#and i don't want to say too much about charles JUST yet but yeah...he's an important character... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sports-on-sundays · 4 months ago

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McLaren hat / OP81

Summary: Oscar x girlfriend!reader - You never realised how much pressure would come from simply being a Formula 1 WAG, and start to go a little bonkers with all the PR.

Warnings: I don't remember if Abu Dhabi was hot this season (probably like wasn't at all) but just pretend it was okay?, stress, kind of low self image, anxiety, taking great lengths just to feel accepted

Requested?: No

"Hey Y/n- whoa." As soon as Oscar looks up from his phone at you, his eyes widen and his eyebrows shoot up.

You watch as he looks you over, and immediately say, "Does it look alright?"

"Does it look alright?!" Oscar asks, standing up right away to be in front of you. "Y/n, you look gorgeous." He steps closer, taking your hands, looking at your tight, short black dress, leather boots, and (of course) the McLaren hat upon your head.

"You sure?"

"What do you mean, 'you sure?'?! Of course I'm sure!" he says with a little smile, his eyes returning back to your gaze. "But what made you decide to dress like a model today, anyway?"

You smile softly, glancing away, feeling comforted by his validation, before saying with a little shrug, "I don't know. Just felt like it." Most of the time, you just wear casual clothes: a McLaren shirt and hat, white jeans, and maybe sunglasses. So you can get how Oscar would be so shocked. You suppose you just weren't expecting this much of a reaction.

He brushes your cheek, saying, "You did your makeup differently, too, didn't you?"

"Yeah... is it too much?"

"Not at all. It's bold, but I like it."

You nod with a little relieved sigh. "You sure?"

He nods confidently. "Positive."

"Oh, good," another little smile creeps up on your face. "That's good to hear. Well, I guess I should leave you to your duties now, Oscar. See you later!" you begin to turn around to leave, but he suddenly grabs your hand to pull you back.

He gives you a quick kiss on your cheek and mutters, "Have fun, beautiful," before letting go of your hand again and letting you walk off.

"Oh! Oscar! Don't you think I would look pretty in this...?" you ask excitedly, tugging his hand, holding up a top on a clothes hanger. It's been two hours already of you dragging Oscar from store to store, buying and trying on clothes, simply because you wanted to apparently 'get more nice clothes to wear to F1 races,' and Oscar hasn't had the heart yet to suggest finishing up.

"Hm? Oh, yeah, I think you would..." he says, a bit distant, before snapping back into it and saying, "But red's not really your color. Not that you don't look good in it. You look good in everything you wear. I'm just saying-"

"No, no, I get it... I just remember Alex wearing something like this..."

"Alex?" Oscar asks, confused. "Alex who?"

"Oh, you know. Alexandra," when he just proceeds to look even more confused, you add, "Charles's girlfriend?"

"Oh..." Oscar nods as he realizes who you're even talking about, and shrugs, before saying after a few seconds, a bit confused, "Well, of course she'd be wearing red. She's Ferrari."

You crinkle your nose. "Do you really expect me to wear bright orange, Oscar?"

He snorts and says, "No. All I'm saying is that maybe she just wears red for Ferrari. I don't know, I'm not paying attention to her. I only pay attention to you, and though I think you look beautiful in red or not, either way, all I'm saying is that it's just not your color. Besides, you told me to be honest at the beginning of all this. I'm just trying to do what you want me to do. But in then end, I don't really care what you wear; you look amazing either way."

You frown, and suddenly groan, "I wish I looked good in red!"

Oscar smiles, still a bit confused at this complaint. "Why?" he asks earnestly.

You shrug, glancing back down at the shirt. "I dunno. Because Alex looks so good in red."

Oscar cocks his head a bit, apparently still not really understanding. "Who cares what Alexandra looks good in? Because I certainly don't."

You sigh, getting a bit exasperated. "I don't know! I guess I'm just trying to look pretty on the paddock, but I look sucky in all the lovely styles that everyone else always wears!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Oscar says, his hand immediately going to your shoulder. "First of all, you never, ever look sucky, no matter what you're wearing. Second of all, in my opinion, you're always the prettiest in the paddock, no matter who's there. And third of all, who says you have to wear the styles everybody else is wearing? I think your current style is perfectly lovely and fine and beautiful, but even if you do want to change it up, you can find your own. Or invent your own. You don't have to copy Alexandra, or whoever else."

But you only hear half of what he's really saying, and register nearly none of it, and the moment he stops talking, you hold up yet another red top (that honestly doesn't really look that different to Oscar), and say, "How about this one? It's a different shade," holding it up to yourself.

Realizing that this really isn't a battle he's going to win, Oscar just sighs, smiles, and nods, saying, "Actually, yeah. I like the fit would be good. And this color suits you a bit more, too." To him, it looks like the exact same color.

You grin, seeming much more pleased, "Oh, good! Can I go try it on?"

Oscar sigh a bit, smiling and shaking his head, murmuring, "M-hm, sounds good. Can't wait to see it on you, beautiful."

As you walk off to the changing room, Oscar thinks he hears you murmur something about how 'maybe you should just go more for Carmen's style.' Oscar's eyebrows just scrunch together at that, and as he sits down outside the changing rooms to wait for you to come show him, all he can think is, Maybe that's just the way girls are, and I really don't understand them after all.

The excitement of having some of the prettiest girls in the paddock complimenting your outfits is almost too much. The girls that you admire so much.

The ones that handle the fame and attention so well.

You feel like you're already doing better with all that stuff. Once you're convinced you look good, which usually takes at least a half hour of switching outfits, at least twenty reassurances from Oscar, and at least one outside person complimenting your appearance, you feel like a different person.

Like you could conquer the world!

Well, Oscar's not a very sensitive person, nor overly perceptive. It doesn't bother him that you seem to be a bit preoccupied. Not really. Sure, there are some times he wishes you were around when you're not, like you used to be, but he doesn't take it personally. He wants the best for you. And if the best of you is to distance yourself a bit in order to find yourself, or whatever you're doing, he trusts you. As long as you keep saying there's nothing wrong, and you're all good, he'll keep being the first person to believe it.

He just keeps sort of ignoring his intuition telling him that something is just off. Because you're not just growing. It's almost as if you're changing into a new person. Not the girl he asked out years ago. Not the girl he's fallen in love with. On the outside, on the paddock, in public, with all the cameras on you, you seem like the bubbly, friendly perfect type of girl with everything all right. You've never really been that type. Of course, you've always been happy, and to him, you're just perfect. But you've never been so camera hungry and extroverted like you seem to be now. You seem so confident in yourself, it almost seems fake. Though Oscar would never dare consider that thought anymore. It's just that in private, you seem to be the polar opposite of that: tired, quiet, let down. It's like the balanced girl he knew that was consistent nearly all the time has just switched to opposite extremes in different situations. And, well, Oscar has no idea why. He'd be lying if he were to say he wasn't concerned.

But he also can't see any way it'd be right to bring it up.

He just kind of misses the way it used to be. The way you used to be.

"Oscar!" his thoughts are suddenly interrupted by your voice and your footsteps entering the room. It's the early morning before he has to head to the paddock to begin the last race weekend of the season, and he's been laying in bed on his phone for a few minutes, waiting for you to get out of the hotel bathroom so he can have a quick shower.

"Yes?" Oscar asks, setting his phone down as you enter the room. You enter the room to show him your clothes, feeling slightly nervous, and unsure, like countless times before.

You twirl in your outfit, which consists of a white strapless top, dress pants, and black high heels. "How do I look?"

This has been going on for months, now. Probably about half the season. And in that moment, it just kind of snaps in Oscar's brain, and without thinking, and without being supportive like he always is, he decides that today, he's going to be honest. "Well, you look gorgeous. As always, of course, Y/n." He sits up and slips off the bed, before continuing practically, "But how thick are those pants? It's supposed to be killer hot today, and I'd hate for you to cook in those. I mean, they do make you look killer hot. They do look nice. And the high heels are lovely, but you always talk about how much your feet hurt after wearing those. Especially out on the paddock? And," he adds, reaching you, so he's nice and close to you, before picking up his McLaren cap off the hotel nightstand and sticking it on your head, "When did you stop wearing this hat, hm? I always thought you looked adorable in it."

You stare at each other for a few seconds, as if neither of you were expecting all that to come out of Oscar's mouth.

But what happens next is about the last thing Oscar would expect.

You take the hat off your head, throw it at his feet, turn on your heel, and walk straight out of that hotel room.

It all happens so fast, Oscar doesn't even have a moment to register what just happened and call you back before the door shuts behind you.

Ten unread messages from Oscar, and you don't even know why you're so mad, but the last thing you want to do right now is see him.

The first thing you want to do is think through it. Convince yourself he's wrong, and you're right.

He wants me to be a certain way for some reason, and it bothers him that I'm becoming who I want to be? So he just likes an ordinary girl with ordinary looks and ordinary fashion and an ordinary personality?

The truth is, you have no idea why he'd want that more than what you're trying to be.

Maybe he's just controlling? He just wants control over what you wear and how you act? But for the years you've dated him, he's never displayed qualities like those.

Then what is it? your brain screams, and for some reason, tears begin to fill your eyes.

And that's when a whisper of a thought dares to say, Doesn't Oscar want the best for you?

Is doing all this really the best for you?

But all the PR and popularity with fans it's brought you... it's so... validating.

But also so exhausting.

And when you come home at the end of the day, don't you want nothing more than to just take that mask off and destroy it?

You know how fake it is. It's like you work every day to make your mask become your face, but that will never happen, and that's painful.

You were happier before, but your outward 'success' was, like, close to nothing.

Do you really want this?

Can you even give up now?

With all the validation from the fans and media?

Maybe Oscar was a bit much today in the hotel. He was. But maybe he had a point, too...

It's like you can't stop. You keep it up for the rest of the weekend, even to Oscar, now, pretending everything is okay, and it's too much.

But you can't stop.

At the end of the weekend, though, after it's all said and done and you've had enough and all you want is to go to sleep and let your dreams sweep you away, everything in you wants to break down.

You need to be alone.

You need to be alone so you can finally be real.

And, of course, when you walk into the hotel room, there Oscar is, sitting by the window.

Just looking out of it.

"What are you doing?" you demand in slight confusion.

You see him look at you in the reflection of the glass. He doesn't even turn around.

Is this all I am now? Merely a reflection in the glass of the person I was to him?

"Looking out the window, and you?"

"That's all?"

He nods, before finally glancing back at you. Showing you his real, handsome face.

It's late, so late.

He just won his driver's championship, and all you want to do is fall apart.

Why isn't he more happy?

Probably just tired.

And here you are, with your nerve, saying, "Oscar, would you mind leaving?"

You see his eyes flash in confusion in the glass. Fear, even, maybe for just a second. He stands up and faces you, his hands going to your shoulders. "Leaving?"

"Just for... a bit."

"Why?" he demands.

"I need some alone time."

He stares, his eyes softening further, before murmuring, "Since when have you ever asked me for that? How many times have we been alone together?"

"Aren't I allowed some privacy, Oscar?"

"Isn't your whole life privacy, by now, Y/n?" It's not an accusation. It's a desperate question, that you have no answer to.

Because you don't want to say yes, but you can't say no. "Please, Osc..." you murmur, trying to keep it together. "I need this time."

"Darling..." he whispers, like a silent prayer.

Your stomach lurches. Why is he calling me that?

Doesn't he only talk like that when he needs me?

"Oscar, listen..."

"Please..." he whispers. "Let it go. At least for me. Don't you see this isn't good for you?"

"Oscar, I-" your voice cracks.

He sighs. "We don't have to talk. We don't have to lay together, or sit together, or be next to each other. We could be on completely opposite sides of the room as each other." He gulps, before adding, "Just let us be alone together. Like we used to always be, when it hurt, and we needed alone time, but we knew we'd both always be there when the other needed it. It's starting to feel so lonely out here without you, darling..." he stroke your cheek gently.

You gulp, fighting back tears.

"Take off those shoes, go put on your pajamas. Just relax, beautiful. Let your cover fall. I don't ever want to forget the you you are without it."

"Do you want me to cry?"

"Never."

"Then why-"

"Because I'd rather you cry if you need to than hold it in and let it rot the inside of you, love."

Love.

"That's the first time you've ever called me that..." you murmur as you slowly lean against the bed to slip off your shoes.

He smiles softly, which surprises you.

You quickly slip on pajamas, before crawling into bed, and murmuring, despite yourself, "Can you come over?"

And in seconds, Oscar's crawling into bed next to you, tucking the two of you in.

"Hold me."

"It's my pleasure," he responds softly, gently pulling you into his chest.

You lay there like that for a while, before whispering, your voice so weak, "Oh, God, Oscar... I'm so, so tired."

"I know you are, darling. I know." He kisses the tops of your head.

Your voice cracks a bit, and this time, you let the tear fall. "I just... I just felt like maybe I should've... been more like them. I'll admit it, I got jealous."

Oscar strokes your hair.

You swallow. More tears fall. "I just guess I felt like I wasn't good enough, but they all were."

"Good enough for what?"

You stare, the question lingering like a germ in the air. "For the media. For the fans. For every single person watching me every single race weekend."

He kisses your nose. "Pressure got to you. Did you ever feel like you weren't good enough for yourself?"

You swallow, shrugging. Nod a bit.

He sighs softly, nodding. Takes your hand and begins whispering, "I want you to know. You're worthy of every single kiss, every single hug, every single sigh, every single tear. You're worthy of every single star in the sky, every single drop in the ocean. You're worthy of laughter and sunshine and so, so much love. You're worthy of..." Oscar trails off, suddenly feeling an unexpected wave of emotion hit himself, before he gains his grip once more again and continues with, in merely a soft whisper, "You're worthy of all the joy and goodness in with world. And you'd know that if you knew how much joy and goodness you project into the world, without even trying, without even thinking about it." He swallows to keep his voice from cracking, and finishes with, "Please know, no matter what happens, or whatever anyone says, I'll always love you for who you are. I'll always be here to be your home. I want you for everything you are, and nothing that you feel you've ought to be. Because to me, you're perfect just the way you are. That is the kind of worth you have, and I wish you could see that, too."

The moment the last beautiful whisper of a word exits his mouth, you break down, fall into him, and cry. And he whispers about wiping away every single one of your tears, because you deserve none of the pain you're going through.

The fact that you've done all this, and brought it on yourself, and hurt him, and he stills says this.

Once your tears have subsided, Oscar smiles a bit, looking into your eyes like you're the most beautiful sunrise, or sparkling dew fresh in the morning, or the glimmer of the sun on the ocean, or any other beautiful thing that could fascinate even the coldest of people. And he whispers, wiping away the last of your stray tears, "Dress for no one but yourself, love. Be who you are. Because whatever you want to wear, you'll stun me. And I love you for exactly the person you are, nt the person you feel you ought to be. Whether you're in an evening gown with the most beautifully done makeup, or in your pajamas with tangled up hair, to me, you'll always, no matter what, be the most gorgeous, amazing, beautiful, perfect woman I have ever set my eyes upon."

Your breath catches in your throat. "Oscar, you..." You're utterly speechless.

He holds you close, and for the first time in months, you feel a certain peace envelop you.

You feel like you're home again.

Maybe all you needed was a good cry and the most perfect boyfriend any girl could ask for.

As your exhausted body gives itself away to slumber you hear Oscar murmur after gently kissing your scalp, "Can't wait to see you in my McLaren hat again, darling."

And you fall asleep with a smile on your face.

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miange1 · 3 months ago

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ANTHONY SWOFFORD

'you'll find, there's never any time for babes or wine'

male reader, anal sex, sexual frustration, raw dogging(ow.), cheating, slight internalized homophobia, sexual actions in the military (DON'T. do that), is it a crime to imagine myself with hair, i have dreads, these AREN'T coming off.

he slammed the white and worn out phone onto the holder of the booth. lunch was next, but he felt much to sick to even think about food right now. this was one of those moments he wish he hadn't signed that damn paper.

he wanted to be back with kris, feel her again instead of jerking himself dry to a picture of her in the stalls just for him to not leak a single drop of nothing.

he swirled the rice and chicken around in the paper bowl, his cup of water still full as he hadn't picked it up unless he received it. 'just a friend' she said. what bullshit.

deep down he knew this would happen. it happened to everyone else, so it was blind to happen to him. "..fuck." he muttered under his breath. he needed to get it together, he couldn't break down over her— not now, not like this. and definitely not here.

what was he gonna do? how could he focus this way? there was just no possible way for it to happen if this shit was nagging in the back of his brain.

he ended up throwing the food away, no longer even wanting to stare at it with this damn girl on his mind.

now he couldn't sleep, staring up at the barracks' ceiling just..thinking. what would he do when he got back and saw that guy just staring back at him. opening that door, seeing some random looking at him like he'd never seen him before.

no, no, fuck that, he'd know him. his friends were probably right saying kris had that military fetish. getting off telling that man that he was a jarhead—

"psst," his thoughts were interrupted by a whisper. was it directed towards him? he sat up, jumping a bit to see you right next to his bed. you were a friend of his he made here, a bit closer to him than anyone else. everyone described you as a sweetheart, you were real kind and caring but you got done what needed to be done whether you disliked it or not.

"i snuck these from the cafeteria," you held up two chocolate chip cookies, and it made him surprised that they even had any sort of flavor here. "you want one?" you gave that smile to him, making his heart melt. you thought of him when taking these? practically risking yourself to get something sweet.

"sure," he sat up, moving over a bit to make room for you to sit with him. he opened the wrapper, giving a hum of satisfaction at the sweet taste touching his tongue. god, this felt great.

"thinking about that white chick of yours?" he almost choked, not thinking that you could tell— but hell it was obvious. ever since the phone calls he had been spacing out, and getting angry easier.

he exhaled through his nose, but he didn't deny it. "there's this guy, charlie or charles or some shit. something with a c, i dunno." he looked down at his bruised knees, his feet planted right on the cold hard ground beneath the two of you.

"she met him at some hotel and..they seem to talk a lot apparently. but i just..i know they're boning and-" he looked over at you, seeing how your cheeks were stuffed with the cookies as you ate. he almost burst out laughing but held it in so no one else woke up. "what?" you swallowed down the rest of the food, confused as to why he was laughing.

"jesus man, im talking about my soon to be ex girlfriend be serious for a sec." you gave him a look, "i am!" your voice was still a whisper as you exclaimed, yet you couldn't help but laugh with him.

you had stopped for a moment but he still had a few chuckles. something just tempted you and you weren't too sure what it was. you always felt a bit of something towards him, but it was mostly just admiration right? yeah, he was a good soldier and you looked up to him to better yourself despite being here longer than him.

your eyes slightly hooded, your head getting a bit closer and he took notice at that. his body backed up a bit, but the two of you were still close. it hit that this must have made him uncomfortable, hint being he was giving you a weird look. he made it clear at the meet when the drill sergeant was yelling at him he most definitely wasn't gay. so what the hell were you thinking?

too ashamed to stand up and walk away, you backed off and looked down at the floor. you weren't gonna cry or anything no, you just felt shameful.

your skin felt cold, and full of goose bumps feeling his finger underneath your chin and tracing at your jaw line. it made you look over at him, the uncomfortable look replaced with longing and need. both of your heads went together again, lips connecting like magnets and moving against each other like smooth waves.

his arm rested on your hips, and your on his chest to keep yourself steady because fuck he was a real rough kisser. there wasn't much teeth, and the kiss still went amazingly but he would push against you like he absolutely needed this.

and he did, he needed it so badly because who else did he have? no one, he had no one else except for you.

"oh..tony, chill out a bit.." he was being as 'chill' as he possibly could. going at a medium pace as to keep everyone asleep, but damn no one ever told you something up there hurt like a bitch.

"trying," he said, leaning down and coming to kiss at your lips and neck. "need you so bad.." his thrusts were slowing down but still harsh and hard. he felt so good, finally feeling something around him other than his damn hand.

he himself couldn't lie that he felt a little something for you as well, even after he knew he would regret this. he might want this to keep going if he could let it happen.

"i know but, mngh.." your words cut off when he aimed at somewhere inside you specifically, making you forget everything all at once. "gosh, right there."

his heart sped up as did his movements. he couldn't help himself! he couldn't keep going so slow, it was killing him.

his hand slapped over your mouth, and feeling the vibrations of your muffled moans against his palm. the bed creaked, your legs wrapping around his waist to keep him close.

yeah, this was definitely going to be more than a one time thing.

#bottom male reader #male reader #bottom reader #jake gyllenhaal x reader #jake gyllenhaal smut #jake gyllenhaal #jake gyllenhaal x you #jake gyllenhaal x male reader #jarhead #jarhead x reader #anthony swofford #anthony swofford x reader #anthony swofford x male reader #jarhead smut #male y/n #male reader smut #male you

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angelluv16 · 2 months ago

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Rumor Has it⁵

✩: Kaia Jenner, the youngest Kardashian-Jenner, is an up-and-coming actress. When F1 driver Charles Leclerc casually calls her his favorite actress, the internet goes crazy. What starts as rumors turns into a whirlwind of drama, chemistry, and public scrutiny.

Part 5

faceclaim: Cindy Kimberly, girls from Pinterest

Want to be added to my taglist?: Click here

pairing: Charles Leclerc x Jenner!reader

request: no!!

warnings: Hate, fluff, Angst, Language,

previous part | Main Masterlist | next part

The doorbell rings, a sharp, unexpected sound that seems to echo through the house. My heart skips a beat, and for a moment, I just stand there, frozen, my hands nervously twisting the edge of my shirt.

It’s happening. He’s here.

Charles Leclerc. Coming to my house. To give me "swimming lessons". Or... something like that. I never imagined this kind of scenario would play out. Sure, I’ve been around famous people all my life, but this feels different. This feels... real.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. It's just swimming. It’s not a Formula 1 car. And it’s not like I’m some rookie—I've been swim racing since I was little, but still can't seem to be any good at it

Okay, Kaia, calm down. I repeat the words in my head like a mantra, but my heart is still racing as I head toward the door.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I grab the handle and pull it open. There he is.

Charles Leclerc. Standing on the other side of the door, looking effortlessly cool in a simple tee and shorts, his hair messily styled like it doesn’t even matter that he’s famous. His smile is warm, friendly, and surprisingly calming.

“Hey,” he says, his voice soft but clear. It’s comforting, and somehow, it makes me feel less like I’m about to drown in awkwardness. “Kaia, right?”

“Yeah. Hi.” My words feel too fast, a little breathless, but I try to shake it off. No big deal. “Sorry, I’m... not used to meeting people for swimming lessons.” I say using quotation marks around "swimming lessons"

Charles chuckles, the sound making me feel a little better. “Don’t worry. I’m sure you’re more than capable. But it’s not so much about swimming... It’s about winning North at swim racing.”

I blink, taken aback by the intensity behind his words, but his smile never wavers. It’s not intimidating, though. It’s just him—confident, calm.

“Right, racing,” I repeat, feeling a bit more grounded. “Guess I’m ready then?”

He gives me a knowing look. “You don’t need to be ready for the race. Just be ready to have fun.”

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. This isn’t so bad, I think to myself. Just a swimming lesson with one of the most famous racers in the world. No pressure.

But, as he steps inside, I can’t shake the feeling that this is the start of something... interesting.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

kaia.jenner posted on her story

{caption 1: Breaktime} {caption 2: #savekingfromthisguy @charlesleclerc}

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by charlesleclerc, kyliejenner, francisca.cgomes, charlotte2304, and 63,839,839

kaia.jenner: Pools days are the best 🌞🌊👙

view all comments

username16: this is what peak influencer-athlete duo looks like 🤭

username17: nah cause why is she actually the coolest jenner??

username18: pOoL dAyS aRe tHe bEsT" yeah girl we know, charles is there 💀

username19: she only gets attention cause of her last name

username20: Charles liking this in 0.2 seconds is sending me

username21: Charles liking this faster than DRS on a straight

lando: Don't drown

kaia.jenner: I almost did dw I'm good I can't leave yet😘

username22: mother is mothering once again 🔥

username23: imagine waking up and deciding to be effortlessly stunning, couldn’t be me

kaia.jenner: Don't say that, You're beautiful, stunning, gorgeous, I love you💕💕

charlesleclerc: Pool days > everything else. No debate.

username24: No bc if I looked like this I would never stop posting either 💅

username25: cause how is every pic in this dump a 10/10?! Some of us struggle to get ONE good pic 😭

username26: Not even that pretty, idk why people hype her up so much.

username27: LOLOL Insecure much?

username28: She’s the moment, she’s the blueprint, she’s EVERYTHING 👑

charlotte2304: STUNNING 💕💕 ❤ by kaia.jenner

username29: why does she always eat and leave NO crumbs?!

username30: The way I gasped… like, how is this real life?!

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

Kaia stretched out on a lounge chair, the sun warming her skin as she wrung out her wet hair. The lesson was an experience. She wouldn’t say she sucked at swim Racing, but she definitely wasn’t about to join the Olympics either. Charles, on the other hand, took his unofficial role as “swim coach” way too seriously, flirty teasing mixed with actual instruction, which made it impossible for her to focus.

Now, with the lesson over, they had both settled into a comfortable silence. Charles was lying on the chair beside her, arms crossed behind his head, eyes closed like he was soaking up every bit of warmth. The breeze was soft, carrying the scent of chlorine and something floral from the garden.

“So,” Kaia broke the silence, glancing at him. “Would you say I passed?”

Charles peeked one eye open, smirking. “Barely.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re a terrible teacher.”

“Excuse me? I’m the best teacher. I was very patient with you.”

“Yeah, because you had too much fun watching me almost drown.”

Charles laughed, turning his head to look at her fully. “I wouldn’t have let you drown.” He paused, his voice shifting to something softer. “You actually did better than you think.”

Kaia hummed, letting the compliment sit between them for a second.

They fell into silence again, but it wasn’t awkward. Just easy.

“You know, I expected you to be different,” she admitted after a moment.

Charles raised an eyebrow. “Different how?”

“I don’t know… more serious? You’re like, the guy in F1 right now. I thought you’d be all intense, obsessed with racing, talking about engines and tire degradation—”

Charles groaned, shaking his head. “That’s literally the worst topic outside of the track.”

Kaia laughed. “See? That’s what I mean. You’re more… normal than I expected.”

“Normal?” Charles scoffed. “I don’t think I’ve ever been called that before.”

“Take it as a compliment.”

He turned his head to look at her again, his expression thoughtful. “And what about you? You’re not what I expected either.”

Kaia raised an eyebrow. “What did you expect?”

“I don’t know.” He grinned. “Something closer to the typical influencer type. Someone who talks in brand deals and posts about ‘good vibes only.’”

She fake-gasped. “Are you saying I don’t give good vibes?”

“You give real vibes,” Charles corrected. “I like that.”

There was something in the way he said it casual, but with enough weight that Kaia felt her stomach flip. She looked away, pretending to focus on the sky.

“So,” she said, changing the subject. “Are you actually tired from today, or are you faking it so you don’t have to get back in the pool with me?”

Charles chuckled, shifting slightly. “I’m pacing myself. Don’t want to overwork my student.”

Kaia smirked. “Oh, so now I’m your student?”

“I mean, technically, you did invite me over for a lesson.” He sat up, resting his arms on his knees as he glanced at her. “But I’ll admit, this part just talking is nice too.”

She held his gaze, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah. It is.”

The sun dipped lower, casting golden light over them. The conversation flowed, moving from childhood stories to the dumbest things they’d ever done. And just like that, in the warmth of the afternoon, something unspoken settled between them, comfortable, effortless, and maybe a little dangerous.

Neither of them was in a rush to move.

Neither of them wanted to.

Taglist: @anamiad00msday @Ale-522 @sarx164@gottalovesae@meadhbhcavanagh@fulla02@fanficfanatic77@ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3@golden-hoax @poolclaws @hadidsworld@perfectmenarefictional@lottalove4evelyn@edgyficuselastica@nebarious@mbioooo0000@fanny2811@greantii@norstappenvibes@mary-op81@jiggly-puff-12 @Karmahnicolas @ana-23-03

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anxious-witch · 10 months ago

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I know, I know we talked about the forest scene with Monty, Edwin and the Cat King to death. But, but. Hear me out.

Edwin was ready to both forgive Monty and thank the Cat King right then and there if they didn't push him, aka crossed a line in the sand for him.

When the Cat King initially informs him of Monty's betrayal, this is Edwin's reaction:

He looks confused, he looks hurt. But he doesn't look angry. Not yet. When he says "Were you just pretending to be my friend" he sounds hurt, but when he sees how Monty is affected, he still looks oddly touched. Especially when Monty says: "At first, yes! Then...no."

I know we joke about Edwin being awful at reading people, but Monty is obviously distressed and Edwin reacts to it. Besides, Monty is his friend. He wants to believe it wasn't all a ploy. But then, Monty makes a fatal mistake and brings up Charles. Immediately, Edwin's expression falls and then it turns angry and says: "Even if it were true, you are a bloody crow!"

We see Edwin forgive Simon, his killer, the person who was responsible for sending him to Hell, in mere minutes, once he finds out why Simon did it. I don't believe for a second he wouldn't have forgiven Monty in a heartbeat if Monty properly explained himself, instead of falling back to his hurt feelings and in turn, trying to hurt Edwin the same way by bringing up Charles. Which is a shame, because they really could have used each other's help.

As for the Cat King, I think it's a very similar story too!

Immediately after Monty walks away, Edwin closes his eyes and says: "I am such an idiot." And the Cat King nods, but you can already see most of the anger Edwin held towards Monty dispersing.

When the Cat King stops him from leaving and says: "I came all the way into this ridiculous forest to save you, I think I am at least owed a thank you," Edwin doesn't seem mad. I'd even go as far as to describe his expression as soft surprise. I think he is thankful, in that moment. And why wouldn't he be? The Cat King did save him from a trap.

It's only when the Cat King brings up a second kiss, implying he should thank him by kissing him, does Edwin grow angry again.

Also, importantly, the way Edwin pushes the Cat King away is almost gentle. Bitchy, and pissed off, for sure, but also gentle. Like, if it was someone who I genuinely didn't want anwhere near me, I'd shove them away by the shoulders, and with much more force. And sure! Edwin isn't a type for violence, but c'mon. We know he is capable if pressed, as seen when Esther hurt Charles.

Edwin keeps his anger tightly locked, only letting it out through his words. He practically spits out "I am not your toy to yank around." But even so, the only tense action we see from his is the way he cocks his head and demingly looks thr Cat King up and down.

Only after the Cat King threatens him, does Edwin get up in his personal space and almost violently(by his standards) shows him the bracelet, saying "This is all that you are. Do you understand?"

My point is, if both the Cat King and Monty essentially told/showed Edwin their actions are somehow tied into his reciprocation of his feelings. Funnily, enough, I feel like if either of them didn't base this interaction on that, and instead rather connected with Edwin emotionally, they would have had a shot at getting exactly what they wanted that night. Monty, Edwin's forgivness and the Cat King, Edwin's thankfulness, perhaps even a sense that he owes him, next time they see each other.

Which is great! Because it shows us sm about the characters, their flaws, and their priorities! But yeah. Talking about shooting themselves in the foot.

I also think that, for all we joke around Edwin holding grudges, he is actually incredible in how quickly he forgives people, as soon as they show the skightest initative for change/goodwill. Part of me hopes he and Monty meet again, just so Edwin can understand his pov, the same way he understood Simon and thr Cat King's but alas. I suppose we'll see

#dead boy detectives #edwin payne #monty the crow #monty finch #the cat king #catwin #montwin #rio's rambly analysis

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alexsoenomel · 6 months ago

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Through The Amplifier

Summary: Seeing Metallica with Dean for his birthday 🎶

Based on: THIS

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI , implied smut, actual smut (but cute fluffy smut), mentions of death, Dean and Reader being nerds

Word count: 8k (I like writing backstories sue me)

Song mentioned (The actual setlist btw): Ride the Lightning, For Whom The Bell Tolls, Lux Æterna, Until It Sleeps, Whiplash, Too Far Gone? Welcome Home (Sanitarium), No Leaf Clover, The Call of Ktulu, Moth into Flame, Wherever I May Roam, Inamorata, Blackened, One and Enter Sandman ( Also Wrong Side of Heaven and Jekyll and Hyde by Five Finger Death Punch)

Note: This year I saw one of my favorite bands and finally fulfilled my lifelong dream. I went by myself and had an absolute blast so this idea just came to me.

Like/ reblog or both if you like it :)

“Are you sure you don't want to come with us, Sam?” I said as I pressed the buy tickets button. The website loaded for a couple of seconds before my phone went off.

“Yeah, I'm sure. I don't listen to Metallica,” Sam told me as I checked my email to see two tickets for Metallica in Inglewood, California in six months.

“How can you NOT listen to Metallica?”

“Not my cup of tea, I guess.”

“You, Charlie?”

“I don’t like old men in leather,” she simply said, making me chuckle.

To say that I was excited would be an understatement. I was overjoyed, ecstatic, and adrenaline-filled, already mentally preparing for the concert. It was indeed destiny. Metallica was performing two days after Dean's birthday in Inglewood, and since we both shared one dream: seeing them live, I saw it as a sign. Videos from their M72 world tour have bombarded my social media ever since it started, and I decided it was now or never.

“How much are the tickets?” Sam asked.

I bit my lip and mumbled: “14k.”

“For two tickets?!” Charlie’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“Each,” I simply said.

" (Y/N)?! " Sam's gaze was on me, and I could feel it burning. I looked at him and smiled awkwardly, and he gave me a silent look of judgment.

“I can explain!”

“I'm listening!” He said, voice as sharp as a knife.

“You know that rich vampire guy I was sleeping with before we met?”

“The son of the rich vampire?”

“Yeah, that one. After we killed them I found his laptop where he kept all of his secrets plus his bank account and asked Charlie to transfer everything to me.”

“How much?”

“Everything,” Charle said proudly.

“Untraceable and undetectable thanks to her, so technically it’s not our money,” I added.

“But wasn't that two years ago?”

“Yeah, he had a lot of money,” Charlie told Sam as he stared at me connecting the dots.

“That explains why the fridge is always full now.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome,” Charlie said.

I chuckled.

Sleeping with a vampire was probably the stupidest thing I have ever done. I didn’t know he was a vampire until I woke up one morning in his bed drowsy with two small holes on my neck. By then, I had been a hunter for ten years and The Winchesters were not in the picture yet. I’ve only heard stories about them; some hunters told me that they were monsters in human form, savage, causing chaos wherever they went; and others had kinder words in mind, like heroes, good, impossible to not like. After I realized what he was I was shocked, but not surprised. I had been collecting red flags like baseball cards all of my life, but I’ve never slept with an actual monster. I’ve been with narcissists, egomaniacs, momma’s boys, but never with a vampire. That day I made a mental note: “Never trust guys on dating apps. Sleazy pubs are better for finding sex.”

The day I planned to kill him and his old man was the day that I met the brothers and Charlie. I caught them trying to sneak into the property from the back, since the cameras there weren’t working. I saw them because I was trying to do the same so the servants wouldn’t see me. I could smell hunter’s blood from a mile away and they could too. Sam told me bodies were piling up in LA and I had no idea because they would cover their tracks well and I was too busy having sex with one of the perpetrators. Dean on the other hand was rolling his eyes because he couldn’t believe how reckless and stupid I was. We didn’t start on a good foot whatsoever. He thought I was annoying and I thought he was an obnoxious jerk. That was before we killed the vampire family.

After we finished the job with minor injuries we went to celebrate –drink. It was Charlie’s idea and I still thank her for that. A few beers later I realized the reason why Dean and I didn’t see eye to eye. It was because we were two sides of the same coin. He was a stubborn nerd with alcoholic tendencies and daddy issues and so was I. And the best part was we both liked the same type of music. Sam and Charlie saw right through us and left after two hours and we stayed and talked for hours. A few more beers and a whole lot of bickering and flirting later, we were fucking in his car like it was our last day on this Earth. I collected one more red flag that night and had too many orgasms. Drunk on sex we both went to his motel room where we had even more sex and barely got any sleep.

The next morning Sam and Charlie were grinning at us while we were trying to wake ourselves up with caffeine.

“I see you guys had a lot of fun,” Sam said, noticing our dark cycles. Charlie giggled.

“Yeah, too much fun,” Dean said, trying to keep his eyes open.

When it was time to say goodbye and exchange numbers, Charlie had yet another brilliant idea.

“You should come with us,” she said, leaving the brothers speechless, Dean especially.

“A hunter alone in a world is a terrible thing,” she told them.

“Did you just quote Maester Aemon?” I asked her. It was nice meeting a fellow Game of Thrones fan.

“You just became even more awesome!” She said and high-fived me. “She is coming with us, guys!”

I was indeed alone. I started hunting when my parents got killed by a werewolf when I was 19. I had no extended family just one friend and she had no idea what I was doing in my free time.

Sam and Dean just stared at each other but naturally agreed since Charlie was running the house and therefore I was moving to Lebanon, Kansas.

For the first time, I had my room and a place I could call home. The bunker was gray and dark and grew on me rather quickly, but things between Dean and I were strange at first. We both thought we were going to fuck each other’s brains out and never see each other again, but the universe (in this case Charlie) had other plans. He was actively avoiding me until I told him to suck it up and talk to me. We didn’t speak, instead, we were memorizing each other’s scars and moles in different positions…over and over again. We even woke up Sam a couple of times while Charlie was clueless since she slept with headphones.

Slowly, we were falling for each other and each kiss became more fatal than the last and since we now lived together, we were spending every waking moment in each other's presence. It wasn’t until one evening we were drinking and a young handsome guy decided to shoot his shot with me and Dean in a drunken jealous rage told him to piss off when he saw his hand on my hip. When the guy refused to leave me alone Dean punched him in the face and we got kicked out of the bar.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?! I was about to tell him to fuck off!” I screamed at him and he just stared at me in complete silence.

“DEAN?”

He came closer and cupped my cheeks with his hands kissing me gently. This time the kiss was different; it wasn’t filled with lust; it was more gentle and vulnerable. His lips were as soft as ever and for the first time I was so painfully aware of them, I wanted him to devour me whole.

“Why are you such a dick sometimes?” I asked, his face inches away from mine.

“I don’t like when people touch what’s mine,” he said, putting a strand of hair behind my ear. I suddenly became aware of my heartbeat.

“Since when do I belong to you?” I asked him, trying to keep a cool head even though my body was on fire. We never made it official, but we both knew it was inevitable.

“Since I belong to you, dickhead,” he said, and from that day on I was his and he was mine.

***

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t in love with Dean. We never said the words, maybe because we were too afraid to verbalize our feelings like grownups, but I knew he loved me just as much as I loved him. His eyes would always sparkle whenever we shared eye contact – even when we fought. He fought a lot, but mostly on hunts, because I would never listen to him and he knew better. In the end, we would get the job done and have angry sex to blow some steam. I’d never thought I’d end up dating a male equivalent of me. I could finally say I was happy with my life, even though objectively speaking it was awful 99% of the time. I was thankful for my chosen family and the fact that I got to experience love for the first time.

***

I had a hard time keeping the secret, but six months later it was time to celebrate his day. Sam, Charlie, and I decided to make everything Metallica-themed. His cake was a classic chocolate cake but the candles were two small guitars one white and one black (one had the number 3 on it and the other one had 6), The frosting was black and had a picture of the band from the 80s when Cliff was still alive. Dean loved Cliff’s bass, so we knew he was going to love the cake.

“Happy birthday, Dean!” We all said in unison as I was putting the cake on the table in front of him. Dean’s eyes widened, sparkling with delight, as he stared at the cake. His mouth dropped open in a gasp, revealing a grin that spread from ear to ear. His cheeks flushed with a rosy shade, and he could hardly contain the bubbling excitement as his eyebrows lifted in disbelief. It was a moment of pure wonder etched across his face. He blew his candles after we sang Happy Birthday to him and now it was time to open the presents.

“This is from me,” Sam said and gave him a bag.

Dean pulled a black shirt from it.

It was a beautiful Metallica shirt, a brand new one from their 72 Seasons merch collection with their yellow album cover and Metallica written on the top.

“Holy crap a Metallica shirt!” Dean said looking at the beautiful design. Sam smiled at him.

“Thank you, Sam! It’s perfect!” He then added.

“You’re welcome, Dean,” Sam said and hugged his brother.

“Now it’s my turn!” Charlie exclaimed and gave him her present.

Dean pulled out a CD and a cassette tape from a small box– their 72 Seasons CD and a limited cassette tape of the same album.

“Oh my God! Charlie!” Dean was bursting with excitement and my heart was melting. I don’t think I remember the last time I saw him this happy. His inner child was healing mine – he deserved the world.

“One is for your car and the other is for your laptop!”

Dean immediately jumped from the chair and hugged Charlie as tight as possible.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“You’re welcome, birthday boy.”

Now it was my turn. While he was licking the frosting with his fingers I sent him his ticket.

Dean was staring at me as I was smiling back at him.

“Check your phone, handsome,” I told him, trying to contain my excitement.

Dean's brow furrowed just a touch, creating a faint line across his forehead as he checked his phone to see that he got an email from me.

“What is this?” He mumbled under his breath and opened it.

Dean’s face lit up with pure joy as realization washed over him. His eyes widened. His mouth dropped open in a wide grin, showcasing his astonishment, while a breathless laugh escaped him. He looked at me for a second before staring back at his phone.

“ARE YOU FREAKIN’ SERIOUS?” He then asked in disbelief.

“Yeah, and guess what? We will be right in front of the stage,” I said and showed him my ticket on my phone.

His cheeks flushed with color, and his eyebrows shot up, giving him a look of sheer exhilaration. He could hardly contain himself, there was an almost childlike glee as he wrapped his hands around my waist and lifted me, completely swept away by the moment. I squealed as he spinned me around like I was a ballerina. It was a mix of shock and joy, a perfect reflection of his excitement to see his favorite band live. When he kissed me my feet hit the ground.

I knew he would remember his 36th birthday for the rest of his life.

***

We packed our bags the next day and went to the airport. Our flight was at 6 pm, so we arrived around 3 pm after lunch. Sam and Charlie came with us because Dean didn’t want to leave Baby at the airport parking lot. We said our goodbyes and went to check in.

“Don’t let him do anything stupid,” Sam told me.

“Don’t worry I won’t! We will be stupid together,” I grinned and Sam looked concerned.

***

The flight was quick and smooth; we didn't even feel it. Since it wasn't my money (well not really) I decided to splurge and booked us two nights in the four-star hotel next to the YouTube Theater where the concert was scheduled. They had a pool, spa, and breakfast buffet, so naturally, I figured Dean was going to appreciate it.

“I don't have swim trunks, (Y/N),” Dean told me as we were entering our room.

“Yeah I know, that's why I bought you a pair a couple of weeks ago,” I said.

The room was an epitome of elegance, bathed in warm light from sheer curtains. A plush king-sized bed, adorned with crisp white linens and a couple of soft pillows was calling our names. A sleek nightstand held a vintage lamp in the corner, while a polished desk offered a coffee maker and a big flat-screen TV handing across the bed was screaming Dean’s name. The en-suite bathroom was heaven, featuring a spacious glass shower, complete with fragrant candles and premium toiletries.

Every detail was screaming luxury and I knew I made the right choice.

We put our bags on the floor and I turned to Dean to see him staring back at me.

“Happy birthday, handsome!” I said and kissed him gently. He immediately pulled me closer to him, closing the gap between us, deepening the kiss, and making me moan a little. I could feel his stubble on my face, his hands on my hips, slowing moving downwards to cup my ass.

“Shower?” He asked before moving his lips to my neck.

“Please,” I managed to say.

After having a quick shower we went to bed and he made love to me until we eventually fell asleep only knowing the sound of each other's names. I loved that man with all my heart and soul.

***

The next morning we woke up at around 8 am, which was our usual time, and went to have breakfast.

The breakfast buffet was a sight to see. There were freshly baked pastries like croissants, danishes, and muffins, all warm and inviting. A big bowl of colorful fruits sat nearby, with strawberries, melons, and pineapple ready to be picked.

In another section, you could find hot dishes: scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, and plump sausages. There was also a selection of artisanal breads, with butter and a variety of jams to choose from. The drink station had fresh coffee and juices. Dean and I were salivating.

“Oh, this bacon looks crisp!” Dean said joyfully as he put a handful of bacon on his plate.

“If monsters don't kill us, high cholesterol sure will,” I chuckled and put a couple of pieces next to my eggs.

Breakfast of champions: bacon, eggs, fluffy croissants, coffee and for dessert fluffy American pancakes with maple syrup. No matter where we went we would always eat the same thing for breakfast.

“The pancakes are so good, my God!” I said as I stuffed my face.

“I need more bacon!” Dean said and went to get more.

After breakfast, we ended up taking an hour-long post-breakfast nap.

***

The concert was at 9 pm. After we woke up Dean wanted to go swimming before lunch so I gave him his new and only pair of swim trunks: blue shorts with yellow ducks all over.

“Seriously?” Dean said, looking at himself in the mirror next to our bed.

“I look ridiculous.”

I tried so hard not to laugh.

“It was either ducks or small purple dildos.”

Dean's face went blank as he looked at himself once more.

“Ducks are good.”

I, on the other hand, bought a black bikini that was perfect for my body. The sleek design highlighted my figure, and the black color added a touch of elegance. I was oozing confidence and sexiness and Dean couldn't get enough of it. His gaze never left my body and it was filled with admiration and affection. His expression was a mix of pride and appreciation. He was on another planet.

“Dean?”

“Um?” He asked, his eyes still fixed on my figure, his mouth partially opened.

“Your gun is showing.”

He looked down and saw what I meant.

“Crap!”

“Let me take care of that before we go!” I chuckled and pointed to the bed.

***

The pool was nice and big. After an hour of fucking like rabbits we went for a swim only to realize we were too exhausted to do anything with our bodies, so we went to the sauna.

In the sauna, my skin felt like it was being enveloped in a warm embrace. The heat made me aware of every pore, and I could feel the sweat starting to bead up and trickle down. It was both soothing and invigorating; my skin felt alive, flushed with warmth.

“I can't believe you planned all of this,” Dean said and closed his eyes, enjoying the sweat dripping from his skin.

I wanted to say it. I wanted to say those goddamn words, but I bit my tongue once more.

“I know, I'm the best,” I said proudly, while in the back of my mind the sentence "Love makes you do crazy things" echoed over and over again.

***

Lunch time, another post food nap and it was time to get ready. Dean wore his usual: jeans, a new Metallica shirt he got from Sam, a leather jacket, and combat boots. I decided it was time to turn myself into a rock’n’roll bombshell. I was going to wear leather black pants, Dean's old Ride the Lightning shirt I “borrowed” and never gave it back, and my staple: black Dr. Martens. I did my hair all nice and curly, and my makeup was a bit over the top and not something I usually do.

I was standing in front of the mirror as I started with a flawless matte base, then created a smokey eye with deep blacks and a dramatic wing. Thick eyeliner and voluminous false lashes (that I bought just for this occasion) made my eyes pop. I swiped on dark, matte plum lipstick and defined my brows to frame my face.

A touch of contour enhanced my cheekbones, and I added a hint of shimmer to my inner corners. Feeling powerful and sexy I was ready to heal my inner child with the love of my life.

“How do I look?” I asked Dean as I put on my leather jacket.

He bit his lower lip and scanned every inch of me in a second.

“Freakin’ gorgeous,” he exclaimed, making me blush.

He was never shy to give me compliments and show me how attracted he was to me. Even in pajamas, dying from period cramps, and crying because my favorite ice cream was sold out, he would still tell me how amazing and pretty I was. Like I said, I loved that man with all my heart and soul, it was pathetic and beautiful.

I kissed him and we were on our way.

We came four hours earlier at around 5 pm, a few minutes before they opened the gates and let us in. In an hour Ice Nine Kills was going to perform and after them Five Fingers Death Punch. When we came in, the pit was already filled with people, but it wasn't full yet. We found a spot just a few inches from the stage. My heart was pounding, I couldn't believe I was there, while Dean was squeezing my hand tightly not wanting to let go.

“Do you want a beer?” Dean asked me.

“I don't think that's a good idea. If we drink we will have to go and if we have to go we will abandon this perfect spot. A lot of people are already coming in.”

Dean nodded.

“Water?”

“That will do,” I agreed, considering we would be standing probably until midnight, staying hydrated was important.

He left to buy us two cups and came back after five minutes. The space was already getting crowded and I was growing impatient.

“I still can't believe we are here,” he told me. He was buzzing with excitement, eyes shining and bouncing on his heels.

“Do you think they will play Enter Sandman?” I asked him.

“I hope so. Pops used to play that song all the time in the car when I was a kid. Sam hated it.”

“My dad used to sing me that song whenever I couldn't fall asleep. I was a lousy sleeper but for some reason, that song would always put me into a coma.”

I told Dean as I remembered how much I missed my old man.

“You're still a lousy sleeper,” he said, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear.

“Yeah, because now I cannot sleep without you,” I said and kissed his cheek. I always had trouble sleeping, going to bed after 3 am, waking up at 3 pm, tossing and turning, nightmares, and so on… until I started sleeping next to him. I was never a big cuddler, especially since I would always feel uncomfortable whenever someone would try to hold me while I slept, but with him it was different. I would sleep like a baby next to him, he was home to me. His heartbeat was my white noise and his warmth was my safe space.

He smiled back at me and at that moment the show began.

Ice Nine Kills was…something else. Dean and I were trying to decide if we liked the music or not, but one thing we agreed on was: that we LOVED the performance. Gore, blood, and chainsaws were all far too familiar, but we especially loved horror references. The music was not bad, but considering we were both classic rock fanatics it wasn't something we would actively listen to.

“I love the Nightmare on Elm Street reference,” I commented after they finished the first song.

“Not bad,” Dean agreed as he wrapped his arms around my waist from behind and pulled me closer.

We were jamming to songs we'd never heard before. People around us were either utterly confused or dancing and head-banging like it was their last day on Earth.

“Oh! That's the Texas Chainsaw Massacre!” Dean said in my ear.

“I know,” I laughed, but I don't think he heard me considering the music was pounding in my ears.

After a good hour, they were done. The crowd was growing impatient again and so were we.

“Five Finger Death Punch is next!” I said and took a sip of my almost empty cup of water.

“I'm kinda excited about that.”

And to be honest I was too. We heard a couple of their songs like Wrong Side of Heaven and Jekyll and Hyde and instantly fell in love with the singer's voice. Dean even said the vocalist sounded a lot like David Draiman of Disturbed and I definitely could hear that.

We were waiting for what felt like hours and my legs started to hurt. I forgot what it felt like standing for so long; the last time I went to a concert I was 16 and my family was still alive. Dad took me to see Deep Purple, it was an unforgettable day.

Five Finger Death Punch came at exactly 8 pm. The band made everyone jump and scream. Their energy was unmatched and the vocalist was giving his all. His voice was strong. The guitarist even threw a couple of picks and Dean almost caught one.

“Damn it!” He shouted.

“Don't worry, maybe you will catch one from Kirk later.”

We all completely lost it when they closed the show with the iconic song Dean and I both loved: Jekyll and Hyde. I was singing my heart out with my man and the rest of the crowd while the singer was jumping around the stage. This whole band had such a strong presence, and I decided to check their other stuff after the show.

"Thank you all for being an incredible audience! Your energy means the world to us. I hope you enjoyed the show as much as we loved performing for you. It was an honor to open for one of the greatest bands to ever exist! Enjoy the rest of the show and be safe!” The singer said and the whole stadium screamed and clapped.

“DAMN RIGHT!” Dean yelled and I smiled.

Seeing Dean so at peace with life and enjoying the present moment made my heart flutter. That man deserved the world and even though I couldn't give him one where he was truly happy (mainly because that would require him to leave hunting behind and he would never do that) I could still make his world a little bit brighter.

I turned around and kissed him, leaving a smudge of lipstick on his perfectly full lips.

“Are you ready?” I asked him whipping the stain from his lips with my thumb.

Dean grinned widely, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Abso-freakin’-lutely!”

People around us were shouting, screaming, and clapping from excitement, and some people went to get more beer, and pee before the show– it was a beautiful chaos around us.

“My legs are killing me already,” Dean complained, trying to stretch as much as he could in the sea of people.

“Yeah, mine turned to stone,” I said and checked my phone only to see they were 20 minutes late. Being late was my biggest pet peeve; even the legendary band that was Metallica didn’t have an excuse. I groaned silently and looked at the empty stage again. I was impatient and filled with adrenaline; ready to sing my heart out, but at the same time I was missing the hotel bed.

Ten minutes later, our favorite chaotic drummer appeared, sending the whole stadium into a state of pure excitement and borderline madness. He waved and then Robert and Kirk appeared with their guitars and big smiles on their faces. The crowd was cheering even louder.

“Kirk’s hair is fabulous!” I told Dean, while we were clapping.

“Yeah, Sam should take some notes!”

And finally, there he was, in the flesh, our favorite voice and my favorite silver fox: James. I've had a crush on James ever since I was a little girl and seeing him right in front of me in his black leather pants, black boots, black shirt, and his beautiful gray beard and hair made my heart beat faster. The man had the presence of a God and I was his loyal worshiper.

“Oh my God! IT'S HAPPENING!” Dean yelled and hugged me from behind.

As the lights dimmed and the crowd erupted, Dean and I felt a surge of adrenaline once again. The opening chords of Ride the Lightning sliced through the air, and we couldn’t contain ourselves. With a wild grin, Dean threw his fists in the air, the pulse of the music igniting a fire within him. I was too starstruck to sing, my voice too shy to come out as I was standing there with my phone in the air trying to record a video with my shaky hands. It was my dad's favorite song and I wanted to immortalize this very moment.

Meanwhile, Dean was transported into another dimension. He swayed to the heavy riffs, shouting the lyrics as they echoed around him. Each note was a release, a reminder of the thrill of being alive. At that moment, we were just fans—no monsters, no worries—lost in the pure magic of live music.

“GOOD EVENING INGLEWOOD! ARE YOU READY TO HAVE SOME FUN?” James' voice was powerful with a gravelly timbre that conveyed excitement. We all screamed and with that, they started playing the second song.

“HOLY SHIT!” I yelled when I realized it was indeed For Whom The Bell Tolls.

As the iconic opening riff surged through the venue, Dean’s heart raced. He felt the familiar rush of nostalgia wash over him, memories of late nights with Sam on the road in the Impala echoing in his mind. The deep, heavy chords resonated in his chest, and he instinctively raised his fists, the crowd's energy fueling his excitement.

With each thundering beat, he found himself singing along. His grin widened, and he couldn’t help but sway with the music, lost in the moment. For Dean, it wasn’t just a song; it was a reminder of everything he fought for—the bond with his brother, the battles they faced, and the moments of joy amidst the chaos. This was rock and roll at its finest, and he was right where he belonged.

I, on the other hand, was trying so hard not to cry. The haunting melody of For Whom the Bell Tolls wrapped around me, pulling at my heartstrings. I felt a mix of exhilaration and nostalgia, the weight of the moment overwhelming as memories flooded back—times spent with my family, laughter shared, my mom telling my dad to turn the volume down. Oh, how I missed my parents at that very moment! The intensity of the crowd, the energy of the band, and the raw emotion in the music made it hard to hold back tears. It was a cathartic release. Dean was standing behind me pulling me closer with one hand as I was holding onto his index finger. I wiped my tears and sang my heart out for my mom and dad and after they finished the song I was left with a slight pain in my right ear. I might have forgotten to bring earplugs, but the truth was I didn't want to nor cared about protecting my ears from potential damage. To quote Dean: “Metallica is too good for earplugs.”

After bringing back so many good memories it was time to mix it up and play something from their newest album.

The melody of Lux Æterna hit me like a bolt of electricity. It opened with a powerful, aggressive guitar riff that instantly raised the tension in the air. As the verses rolled in, the haunting yet energetic melody intertwined with a sense of urgency. When the chorus exploded, the vocals soared, filling me with a mix of exhilaration and defiance. I was completely engulfed in the sound, feeling every note resonate deep within me, embodying everything I loved about Metallica as Dean pulled me closer to him while we were jumping in sync.

“Lux Æternaaaaaaaaa!” We would sing completely out of tune with James.

As Lux Æterna blared through the speakers, the crowd became a living entity, energy surging with every note. Fans pumped their fists and sang along, their voices rising in a powerful roar. Some swayed with eyes closed, while others jumped, danced, and headbanged, united in exhilaration.

“You guys are amazing!” James said. He was covered in sweat and I was salivating. The man was a definition of aging like fine wine and my daddy issues were showing.

I turned to Dean who was hypnotized, his eyes never leaving the stage.

"Would you give me a hall pass if I cheated on you with James?"

Dean arched an eyebrow, a playful smirk crossing his face. “James, huh?”

Amusement in his eyes, he added. “If you think I’m letting you run off with a rock star, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“Really?” I smirked.

“You’re mine—rock star or not.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at Dean’s reaction. “You think I’d leave you for James Hetfield? Really?” I teased, arching an eyebrow. His playful jealousy was endearing, and it warmed my heart.

Dean smirked, leaning in with that familiar teasing glint in his eyes. “Just making sure you know where my head’s at,” he said, his tone light but with an edge of seriousness.

“Rock star or not, I’m the one who gets to take you home.” He chuckled, and I could see the warmth in his gaze. “It’s you and me against the world, always.” At that moment, I felt a rush of affection, knowing our bond was stronger than any fleeting fantasy.

As the opening notes of Until It Sleeps fill the venue, the crowd erupts into a frenzy, a sea of raised fists. The energy was electric, and I felt the pulse of the music vibrating through me as everyone swayed together, singing along with wild abandon.

Beside me, Dean’s face lit up with pure joy, his excitement infectious. I glanced at him, my heart swelling with happiness, knowing this moment was deepening our connection. Surrounded by the thrumming bass and the roar of the crowd, I realized this night will be one we’ll always treasure. The crowd swayed around us, but at this moment, it was just us. He sang every word with fervor, and I couldn't help but join in.

The set list was out of this world: Whiplash, Too Far Gone? Welcome Home (Sanitarium), No Leaf Clover, The Call of Ktulu, and Moth into Flame are just a few they chose.

During Wherever I May Roam Dean and I were screaming every word so hard that I knew our vocal cords would hate us later. We would usually listen to that song after every successful hunt. It became a staple, a reminder of why we do what we do, and a beacon of hope.

“HOLY SHIT!” I shouted at him with a huge grin on my face.

“HOLY SHIT!” Dean shouted back and kissed me.

The band was looking so good.

I loved seeing Robert jamming with the fans with his signature long and beautiful braids while absolutely nailing every note on his base and Kirk just being Kirk and owning the stage in his green leather jacket. Lars was an absolute beast even at 60 years old.

When they started playing Inamorata, James took his time to walk around the stage while playing his guitar and smiled at us all. I could see his face as clear as day: his blue eyes had that sparkle of happiness; he had been doing this for decades and you could still see how much it made him overjoyed to see people enjoying his band's music, his smile was infectious and captivating and I couldn't believe he was standing right in front of me.

I turned to see Dean – he was completely mesmerized, eyes wide and mouth slightly open, staring at James as if he were witnessing a miracle. I chuckled softly, knowing he was the happiest man alive. It was beautiful to see this vulnerable side of him, and I couldn’t help but lean closer, sharing in his joy as the music enveloped us.

The next two songs were Blackened and One. To be completely honest I forgot about Blackened. I was so high on adrenaline, oxytocin, and serotonin that I couldn't remember the song and I was too embarrassed to ask Dean about it. I knew it was an old song, a classic, and I knew Dean would give me a death stare so I kept my mouth shut and listened to him sing (yell).

After the forgotten song James and his bandmates decided to rip our hearts out.

The ominous sounds of distant gunfire and explosions played through the speakers and the crowd fell into a hushed reverence. The chilling audio of war set an intense backdrop for the song that used to make me cry. The moment I recognized the opening notes of One, a thrill shot through me, and I felt my pulse quicken in anticipation. It was as if the world around me faded away, leaving only the haunting melody that resonated with the depths of my soul. I never thought I would hear this song live. My dad showed me the music video when I was eleven (my mother was furious, and thought it was inappropriate) and I cried my eyes out, but loved the song. I rarely listen to that song though, it was too raw and reflected sorrow and despair in a way I knew far too well.

Dean took my hand and placed a soft kiss as James started to sing. I pulled him by his shirt and kissed him, wanting this moment to last forever. He cupped my face pulling me closer, ignoring the sound of people around us screaming the lyrics. It was just me and him, always.

When I broke the kiss I was inches away from his face.

As the crowd roared and the lights pulsed, I turned to Dean, adrenaline still rushing through me. With One echoing around us, I blurted out, “I love you.”

Time froze as surprise washed over his face, vulnerability breaking through his bravado. “Yeah?” he asked, his voice barely audible over the music. At that moment, amidst the chaos, I saw that beneath his tough exterior, he was just as scared of love as he was of losing it.

His eyes locked onto mine, and a slow smile spread across his face. “You mean that?” he asked, his voice softening amidst the music.

Before I could respond, he pulled me close, his arm wrapping around my waist. “I love you too,” he whispered in my ear.

At that moment, surrounded by the concert’s chaos, everything felt right.

Throughout the concert, I took a couple of videos and even got a picture of James shredding his guitar for my new phone wallpaper, but nothing could prepare me for the next song.

“ARE YOU STILL ALIVE?” James said as the opening riff of Enter Sandman sliced through the air, the arena exploded into a frenzy of energy. Lights flashed in sync with the relentless beat, illuminating faces filled with exhilaration. The heavy guitar reverberated through my body, a primal force that united the crowd in a shared heartbeat.

“DEAN!” I shouted, jumping up and down in excitement.

“I CAN DIE HAPPY NOW!” He screamed.

Everyone was singing, fists pumping, the raw intensity of Metallica's sound creating a charged atmosphere that felt almost electric. It was a moment of pure chaos and exhilaration, where the music enveloped us, and nothing else mattered.

Suddenly giant yellow and black balls began to fall from above, bouncing energetically into the crowd. They bounced and rolled, creating an atmosphere of pure chaos and fun. Fans reached up, trying to catch them, laughter and cheers erupting as the balls added an unexpected burst of excitement to the already electrifying performance. The sight of those bright, playful orbs amidst the intensity of the music created a surreal, unforgettable experience. One fell on us too as we jumped with other people making it fly to our left. I was trying to take a video but my hand was shaking while I couldn't stop jumping next to Dean screaming and feeling my throat slowly tighten.

Kirk nailed his solo, while his hair stayed fabulous and James was getting himself ready for the big finale.

“Hush, baby, don't say a word,”

“And never mind that noise you heard,”

“It's just the beasts under your bed,”

“In your closet, in your head!”

Dean and I were screaming at each other's faces, filled with nothing but love for one another.

“Exit light!”

“Enter night!”

“Grain of sand!”

“Exit light!”

“Enter night!”

“Take my hand!”

“We're off to never-never land, yeah”

James voice was so raw, so strong, I was still trying to figure out how he was 61 years old.

“Boo!”

“Yeah-yeah!”

“Yo, whoa!”

The song ended. I was already getting sad because I knew it was the end. I checked my phone and it was almost midnight.

The song finished and we all cheered and clapped wanting more.

I heard people yell encore, but after 15 songs they were done. Lars threw his drumsticks at us and someone behind us caught it. He said thank you but the crowd was so loud I couldn't hear him. Until he got in front of the microphone and said: “You were amazing tonight! Thank you for coming!”

We all screamed even louder. Robert came and tossed a couple of picks and people in front of us were fighting to catch it. He threw five picks in total, covering every part of the pit.

“Come on! I want one!” Dean yelled. We were all still clapping.

“Wait for Kirk! We are close!” I told him.

He indeed came next and blessed fans with a couple of picks, but Dean was now too close to catch one and it flew right above his head…

“DAMN IT!”

James, covered in sweat and looking like a God came right in front of us. I was standing there, completely ignoring Dean and trying to remember every corner of that man's face. While I was in Neverland and watching James throw his picks I didn't even register Dean screaming my name.

“(Y/N)!”

“Huh?” I snapped back finally and saw him holding a small white pick that had White Fang written on it.

“OH MY GOD!” I yelled.

“I DID IT!” He yelled back.

I loved seeing my man truly happy. I loved that band and I loved everything about that day.

***

Getting out of the venue was a nightmare. The crowd surged around us, bodies jostling and voices blending into a chaotic mix of excitement and exhaustion. I clung to Dean’s arm, grateful for his steady presence as we stepped into the cool night air.

“That was insane,” I said, smiling up at him. He grinned back, eyes still shining with adrenaline. As we navigated through the sea of fans, I felt a rush of happiness, knowing we had shared something truly unforgettable.

“That was incredible!” Dean exclaimed, his voice full of energy. “ Best night ever! Best birthday ever!” His smile widened as he looked at me, clearly still buzzing from the concert.

My legs were in pain, I was thirsty and sleepy but it was all worth it.

We were back in our hotel room 10 minutes later, both covered in sweat ready to sleep.

I took off my clothes right away, feeling like my legs were on fire.

“I'm in so much pain!” I complained.

“I cannot feel my legs!” Dean said.

“I'm gonna shower. Wanna join?” I was in my underwear standing next to him waiting for him to stop staring at my boobs.

“Coming!” He simply said and started taking off his pants while his eyes never left my boobs. I loved the fact he loved my body. I, like any woman in this cruel “man's world” sometimes would look at myself in the mirror and just hate what was staring back at me. His little stares were a strong reassurance that I was bullshitting.

Usually, showers meant fooling around (shower sex was complicated), but we were too tired for anything but kisses. We lazily washed ourselves in silence, kissing each other here and there.

“So you love me, huh?” He smirked between kisses. I just smiled at him as the warm water was pouring down my back.

“Yeah, imagine that! You're loveable,” I said as I was shampooing his hair. His eyes were closed but his mouth formed a small o.

“Well…”

“Shut up!” I told him.

After we were all nice and clean it was time to finally get some sleep. I put on a clean pair of underwear and Dean's old Led Zeppelin shirt I also “borrowed” and he put on a clean pair of black boxers.

We snuggled underneath the blanket, my head resting on his chest, feeling my body slowly relaxing and falling asleep.

“You really think I'm loveable?” Dean asked, suddenly. I was half asleep, but this question tore my heart a little and now I was wide awake. I knew he thought he was unworthy of love, unlovable, unclean and it made me incredibly sad, especially because he was the definition of a hero with a heart of gold.

“It’s hard to not fall in love with you, Dean. If you could only see yourself through my eyes, you would understand,” I told him and lifted my head and kissed him, but this time deepening the kiss. I was tired, and my body was in pain, but the urge to be close to him, to love him, was consuming me. He moaned into the kiss and immediately got on top of me. My hands went in his damp hair.

We kissed for a while, our souls intertwined, our bodies keeping each other warm before his hand went into my now wet panties, his finger entered me making me arch my back, moaning even louder into the kiss. I was still in pain, but Dean's touch was slowly healing me until all I could feel was pleasure and love. His finger suddenly left my panties and I was left needy and desperate, but he wasted no time and took off his boxers, his dick fully hard. “Lift your hips, sweetheart!” He demanded and I did, letting him take off my underwear.

He kissed me again before he positioned himself between my legs and entered me. I was so wet and desperate that I took him all instantly.

“You feel so good!” He whispered, his voice deep and raspy, sending shivers down my whole body. I dug my nails into his back as he started to move, light moans escaping my lips.

We were one. One soul, two bodies, always.

“Dean!” I moaned pathetically over and over again as his pace became more erratic. I was so close, so so close.

“God, I love when you say my name!” He managed to say as his face was buried in my neck. “Say it again!” He said and slammed into me.

“FUCK, DEAN!” I screamed, digging my nails into his back, even harder. I could feel the orgasm coming like a tidal wave.

“Oh God!” He moaned into my ear and slammed into me over and over again.

My toes curled, my whole body stiff as my skin was covered in goosebumps. An intense wave of electricity rushed through me as I came so hard I could see stars. Dean didn't stop until he came into me, filling me up completely. I'll have to worry about potential pregnancy tomorrow since we completely forgot the concept of condoms.

We were both breathless, covered in sweat, and panting in each other's faces.

“Best birthday ever?” I asked him.

“Best birthday ever,” he smiled.

I was not ready to check out tomorrow. I was not ready to board that plane and say goodbye to this hotel room. I was not ready for this to end.

As I was laying on his chest, slowly drifting away with my thoughts and as my body relaxed and felt heavier with each passing minute, Dean was playing with my hair and before I started dreaming I heard him whisper:

“I love you so much, sweetheart.”

255 notes · View notes

willowsnook · 7 months ago

Text

Right Place, Right Time (last pt. LN)

pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4

@seasonswinter @drdbnkl2008 @jaematthews15

this is the longest one bc i needed to finish before i go on vacation :)

To say things were not going well was an understatement. On the outside it seemed like you were holding it together but on the inside you were barely staying afloat. You were going out less with your friends, keeping more to yourself at work, and drinking more. You'd watched both of the races since Austin, secretly happy to see that Lando was finishing outside of the top 5 both times. You had been staying off social media but one of your friends had let it slip that he had been fined a bunch for refusing to speak to media after both races.

You'd facetimed Lily a couple of times and she never brought him up but could tell that you were still sad about the situation. She still insisted you come to Vegas and you promised that you were still coming.

Lily was worried about both you and Lando. He was miserable, Oscar talked about it all the time. Moody in team meetings and refusing to hang out with anyone besides Max Fewtrell occasionally. She was a romantic, so she was hoping that you two would make up in Vegas and it would all magically work out in the end. There was one step already in motion that you were just about to tell her.

"So I have some news," you said over the phone, mindlessly picking at your nails. "And am hoping for some advice."

"Okay...what's up?" She said.

"So you know how I was telling you last week about being nervous for this meeting with my boss and her boss?"

"Yeah, what happened?"

"They offered me a new job." Lily squealed.

"That's so exciting, congratulations," she said. "I haven't necessarily accepted it yet," you said.

"Why not?" "The role would be managing the EMEA partner team, meaning I would have to move to the UK," you said and she was silent for a second.

"Oh," she finally said.

"Oh is right," you said sighing. "It's a great career opportunity but with where things stand with Lando I'm not sure if it's a good idea."

"I mean would you really be around him that much?"

"I guess not really but we'd still cross paths a lot."

"Hmm have you talked to him since October?"

"Nope."

"Maybe you guys should talk next week?," she suggested.

You actually had been planning on doing that, trying to make up and see if you could repair what happened but then your friends showed you some tabloid pictures, you changed your mind. You tried to not pay attention to any F1 gossip but you'd gone down a rabbit hole when it was reported that Lando was with a blonde girl while with Max F on a golf trip. Your suspicions were confirmed when you saw a pic him with her in his car. At first you cried for a good couple of hours and then you were livid. He's the one that was sooo into you.

"I don't think so," you said simply. "He's already moved on so it doesn't really matter."

"Well I think you should still take the job, don't let him take away something good."

--------- Vegas GP week, Friday -------------

You walked into the paddock with confidence radiating from you. You actually had passes for Red Bull's garage for the weekend thanks to Max but you thought it would be a bad look professionally to rep their merch so you had a cute Ferrari jacket in case you were cold.

"Ahh hermosa, did you wear that for me?" You laughed pulling Carlos into a hug. "Looks like you stole those jeans from Charles' closet though."

"I missed you buddy," you said and he smiled, throwing his arm around you as you walked through.

"I missed you too, not as bad as someone else though," he said and you stopped walking, crossing your arms over your chest.

"His new company seems to suit him just fine," you said and Carlos raised his eyebrows.

"Y/n I don-," you cut him off.

"I don't want to talk about him," you said and he nodded.

Speaking of the literal devil, your steps faltered as you saw him staring at you from across the path, ignoring the reporter trying to get his attention. He started to step towards you and Carlos but you watched Carlos shake his head and he stopped moving, looking deflated. You kept your eyes forward and let Carlos guide you towards Red Bull.

"Schatje!"

You smiled widely as Max picked you up twirling you around.

"I'm actually very upset with you," he said once he put you down and you looked at him quizzically.

"You're moving closer to me and you didn't say anything," he said and you nodded.

"You're moving?" Carlos asked raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I got promoted to oversee all of our European partnerships so i'll be heading to the land of the British next month," you told him and he grinned.

"Congrats y/n, you deserve it." He said.

"Does Lando know?" Max asked.

"No, and I would prefer to keep it that way," you said firmly. Both boys nodded but gave each other a look. Carlos had to head back to Ferrari so you and Max headed into the garage. You watched his and Checo's practice session and then headed towards hospitality for lunch. Max walked you up there but then beckoned Daniel over to you.

"I have to go to a debrief but Daniel will keep you company," he told you and you rolled your eyes.

"I don't need a babysitter Max," you grumbled.

"We have a united front," he said before leaving you.

You didn't realize what he meant until later when it seemed like you had spent the day being passed from driver to driver keeping you away from anyone wearing Papaya. At one point you sat in silence with Fernando drinking coffee, both feeling awkward but it paid off. Lando had ended up in the same area and he saw his chance but Fernando abruptly stood up and Lando quickly turned on his heel.

At the end of the day you waited in the parking lot for Lily and squealed when you saw her and Oscar walking towards you. You gave her a big hug before moving to give Oscar one. When he pulled away he kept his arms on your shoulders shaking you.

"I am begging you y/n, please talk to him," he said. "I am going to kill him or myself by the end of this weekend if he doesn't stop."

"Just tell him to leave me alone," you said sourly and Oscar sighed. Lily slipped her arms through yours and you headed towards your car.

"I know you're with RB for the weekend but will you please keep me company tomorrow during qualifying?" Lily asked. You thought about it for a minute before agreeing.

The three of you piled into Oscar's car and drove you to the strip to find someplace for dinner. You got seated quickly at a nice restaurant thanks to Oscar's status and you had just opened the menu when someone slid into the 4th seat, across from you.

"Lando," Oscar said and you groaned.

"What?" He asked innocently. "I want to have dinner with my teammate, is that a crime?" You huffed and Lily gave you a sympathetic look.

"Nice jacket," he said causing you to finally meet your eyes. His expression was neutral and you kept yours the same.

"Thanks, it was a gift from Carlos," you replied.

"Lovely," he muttered looking down at his menu. "How have you been?"

"Fine."

"Good, good," he said awkwardly.

Oscar luckily jumped in at that point to take over the conversation. Lando kept trying to catch your eye but you refused to look at him and you could see him growing more frustrated. The waiter came back at the end asking how you guys wanted to split the check and Lando quickly motioned that the two of you were on one and Lily and Oscar on another. You huffed crossing your arms.

The four of you headed out of the restaurant, Lando close behind you.

"Ride with me back?" He asked hopefully.

"Absolutely not," you replied and he sighed.

"Are you going to keep avoiding me the rest of the weekend?" He asked.

"Hopefully for the rest of eternity," you said back.

"Baby please," he said and you whirled on him bringing your finger up to point.

"You don't get to call me that," you seethed and he gave you those sad puppy dog eyes. You caught up with Lily who didn't press about the situation, simply squeezing your hand in support.

----- Qualifying --------

You got to the McLaren garage early the next day to find Lily and unfortunately she was not the first person you saw.

"Come to wish me luck?" Lando said as you walked in, grabbing your attention.

"I quite literally am praying that you are out in Q1," you replied and he frowned. One of his engineers laughed, covering it up with a cough and he shot them a look. You found Lily sitting with a headset on and you joined her. The first round went by fast, both boys making it into Q2.

Q2 was going fine to start but you noticed that some of the engineers jumped in scrambling with anxiety. You furrowed your eyebrows and looked up just in time to watch Lando slam into the wall on turn 14. You gasped and grabbed Lily's hand instinctively, your other one going to cover your mouth. You heard his engineer repeatedly ask over the radio if he was okay and you let out a massive sigh of relief when he groaned out that he was.

You watched as he pulled himself out of the car, holding his side. He disappeared with the stewards and you fiddled with your hands nervously.

"I need to get some air," you told Lily pulling off the headset and heading back outside.

You lingered outside of the medical tent for a little bit before finally deciding to walk in. You saw Lando lying on a bed, clearly in pain waiting on a doctor to come over. You made your way over to him slowly and he reached his hand out to you when he noticed. You slipped your hand in his, bringing the other to run your hand through his hair. The doctor came in and wanted to check Lando's ribs so you helped him pull his suits off. Lando squeezed your hand hard, face grimacing as they felt around his ribs.

They ended up deciding that nothing was broken, just bruised and you walked back to the garage with Lando ,your hand still in his. His team surrounded him as you got back and you squeezed his hand as a goodbye before going to find Lily again.

------- Race Day ----------

Lando's POV

Lando was waiting around for the driver's parade talking to Oscar when Max and Carlos walked up.

"How are you feeling?" Carlos asked.

"Meh, it still hurts but it's survivable," he replied and the guys nodded.

"Heard you had a visitor in the medical tent," Oscar said and Lando blushed.

"I was very surprised to see her," he admitted and Oscar grinned.

"Guess you'll be seeing a lot of her soon too," Max said and both Oscar and Carlos snapped their heads towards him. "Oh fuck."

"What are you talking about?" Lando said confused. All three of them refused to look at him. "Guys?" Oscar sighed.

"She got promoted at Monster and is going to be based out of the UK starting next month," he said and Lando was shocked moving angrily towards him.

"Why didn't anyone fucking tell me that?" He demanded and Carlos stepped in.

"She asked us not to man," he said and Lando slumped back.

"I shouldn't be telling you this because Lily would kill me," Oscar started. "But she was planning on telling you and seeing if you guys could work things out but then the pictures of you and Magui came out and yeah."

"What do you mean pictures?" He asked. "We're just friends, nothing happened."

"Look all I know is that she was really upset and then decided that she didn't want to fix things anymore."

Lando was stunned. He had been with Magui once, and it was in a group. It's not like he could control that those were the pictures that were posted.

Y/n's POV

The race came and went, Oscar securing the win and you were in their hotel room getting ready for the celebration with Lily. Right now you could see her and Oscar whispering to each other, him looking over at you multiple times. Finally Lily came over fidgeting in front of you.

"Spit it out Lil," you said while applying lip gloss in the mirror.

"First I want to say that I didn't mention this earlier because you didn't want to talk about him and then it just never felt like it was going to change anything but after seeing you yesterday and how you reacted I think you should know," she said and you nodded for her to go on. "Nothing happened with that girl. She's one of Max's girlfriend's friends and they were hanging out in a group. I know the pictures looked bad but they weren't really anything."

You looked at her trying to figure out what to say and she continued.

"I know you still care about him. And I know he hurt you but you know how badly he feels about that. So I'm not saying you have to give him a chance romantically but don't let gossip that's not even true hold you back."

"it was much easier when I thought it was true," you smiled sadly at her and she pulled me into a hug.

"You'll figure it out."

You guys showed up at the club a little later, heading to the VIP section where pretty much the whole grid was. Being in Vegas overshadowed having a bad race for sure. Lando was talking with Max and when his eyes met yours you knew that he knew about the job. It all clicked why Lily felt like she had to tell you now. You looked away from Lando quickly following Lily to get a drink.

The next hour the tension between you and Lando grew considerably. The small touch on your back as he moved past you, him catching you staring multiple times, him hovering near you constantly...

Eventually you followed Carlos and Lily down to the dance floor and lost track of Lando. Oscar joined you a little later and you had the most fun that you had all weekend. You soon felt two hands on your waist and were pulled back into someone's chest to dance. You looked up to see Lando holding you, moving you to the music. Eventually you turned around in his arms, wrapping one arm around his neck. You were staring intensely at each other before he leaned in to whisper in your ear.

"Can we talk?"

You nodded and let him pull you off the dance floor, heading back to your section. He found a quiet section in the corner and sat down in an armchair pulling you down to sit on his lap, his arms resting comfortably around your waist.

"This is how you want to talk," you teased and he smiled.

"Easier to hear you like this," he replied before settling into an awkward silence.

"I know-" "I know-" You both started and then stopped amused and he cleared his throat.

"Congratulations on your promotion," he said and you looked down rubbing circles on his arm with your thumb as you mumbled thanks.

"I'm not with that girl," Lando said and you looked back up at him. "She's just a friend."

"I wanted to tell you about the job," you blurted. "But I thought you had moved on because like you said 'you could get any girl you wanted'". He winced as you said this.

"I was upset, and I know it's not a good excuse but you were breaking my heart," he admitted. "Maybe I could get any girl I wanted but that wouldn't matter if I couldn't get you."

You felt butterflies in your stomach and you wrapped your arms around him, resting your head in his neck.

"I'm still going to be far away from you," you mumbled into him.

"A two-hour flight is nothing compared to fourteen," he said bringing a hand up to brush through your hair. "Plus it'd be easier during the season to come stay with you during the in betweens."

"I guess you're right," you agreed and he pulled your chin to look at him.

"I guess I am," he said before he leaned in connecting your lips. You deepened the kiss shifting to where you were straddling him, holding his face in both of your hands. You pulled back resting your head against his, both breathing hard.

"Please come back to my room with me," he begged and you laughed. "Funny business this time."

"You are so lame," you teased slipping off his lap.

"You love it," he said.

"I do," you reply bringing him in for one more short kiss.

The two of you moved out of the section and towards the door holding hands and you smiled as you caught Daniel looking from you to give Max a fist bump.

#f1 imagine #lando norris #f1 x reader #lando norris x reader

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vaguesxrrow · 1 year ago

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this was for a request for an edwin payne/gn reader dating hcs but i accidentally deleted the ask SORRYYY 😭😭 if you requested it here you go !!

edwin payne/reader dating hcs

a/n: there is nothing in this pertaining to the reader's gender but i'd like to clarify they are not a girl, as edwin is not attracted to women (to my knowledge)

reader can be read as either alive or dead

tags: gn!reader

what dating edwin payne would be like...

- before you started dating, or at the start of your relationship, edwin would be a little closed off (as is expected from him) but it was still obvious to everyone he had a soft spot for you

- even if he didnt outwardly show how taken with you he really was, it would be obvious through his actions alone

- on cases, he would especially watch out for your safety

- if you're sick or feeling even slightly unwell he will suggest you take a break from this case

- "i will come back to you. i promise." when you protest that he might need you there

- he'll give you long, long hugs when he returns

- lying in bed together after the case, facing each other, as he tells you about it

- would lay down with his head between your shoulder and neck, tracing patterns over your hand and wrist

- isn't terribly fond of pda but cheek kisses and hand holding, or linking your pinkies together are always on the table

- will also let you, and enjoy it when, you latch onto his arm

- this boy would totally try to court you

- at first his gifts would be typical types of gifts, like flowers or something expensive and fancy because he wants you to think highly of him

- but then one day he finds a silly stuffed animal he thinks you'd like and gives it to you

- you LOVE it ofc, and you dont waste a second in telling him

- he's a bit surprised but is happy you love it and would grin at you fully once you promise that yes, you really do think it's lovely

- after that, if he finds anything he knows you'll like, or if you say you want something, he WILL get it for you

- edwin taking you out on dates:

- he would put a lot of effort into your first date because, with all the running away from supernatural beings that want to kill you, he thinks both of you deserve a little normal

- imagine: a museum date, but at a kind of obscure museum that showcases ancient artifacts or something

- edwin would know a lot of facts about the different pieces and tell you about them

- however he will feel bad about going on too long, because this is your first date and he doesn't want to put you off already

- "i... apologise. i'm rambling."

- you: 'i don't mind. it's... attractive how smart you are."

- you were totally gonna say 'sexy' but is edwin really ready for that?? maybe not.

- then you kiss him before he can react, and his system kind of crashes (yeah, definitely not ready for 'sexy' just yet)

- he appreciates how you value his whole personality and genuinely love all parts of him

- he loves you just as much, if it wasn't obvious

- his love languages would probably be quality time and acts of service

- constantly making excuses to be near you

- "[ ] and i will go conduct some research in the library, the three of you can interview the witnesses."

- he thinks he's being subtle but charles, crystal, and niko always grin at you knowingly

- "have fun, lovebirds! try not to get distracted," <- coming from either of the other three, or maybe even all of them in unison

- edwin will splutter and blush

- once he realises there's no use in hiding how whipped he is for you, he'll outright say he wants to "go with his [boyfriend/partner]" to do whatever he wants to do

- he likes saying it out loud that you're together - it makes him feel giddy inside in a way no one else has before

- if you want a specific book for your research he'll take finding it very seriously

- you need a book from the top shelf? he's on it (like, literally on it, because if there's no step stool around he might actually climb the bookshelf)

- getting tired from your research? he'll mirror travel to a coffee shop and get you a drink and a sweet treat

- edwin would get jealous, and once he's secure in the relationship he would show it

- in the case of you being alive: imagine someone trying to flirt with you, maybe in the library or something from the earlier scenario

- he would knock over a book on purpose to spook the person who dared to flirt with HIS s.o

- when you tease him for it later he'll mutter something about being 'possibly a bit jealous.'

- it isn't that he doesn't trust you, as he will of course clarify, he's just very protective

#edwin payne/reader #edwin payne x reader #edwin payne x you #edwin paine/reader #edwin paine x reader #edwin paine #edwin payne #dead boy detectives x reader #dead boy detectives headcanons #dead boy detectives/reader #dead boy detectives #dbd

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edwin-paynes-bowtie · 5 months ago

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GHOSTS IN THE SNOW

I spent a lot of the day thinking I WILL SPONTANEOUSLY COMBUST IF I DO NOT SEE A PAYNELAND SNOW KISS RIGHT NOW. Unfortunately, I could not find one to look upon, so I decided to write one. Here you are! You can also read it on Ao3.

Edwin did not like to admit it, but he barely remembered what it meant to feel cold.

Charles did - considering the manner in which he died, it was no surprise. And yet all Edwin could recall was heat, not only from the fires of Hell but also from running, and running, and running. As he strolled along the peaceful nighttime streets of London, Charles's hand in his, he contemplated what it might be like to feel the light snowfall on his face. To have his cheeks wind-whipped and numb, to catch the large, fluffy falling snowflakes in his mouth and taste them.

Edwin did not frequently yearn for life, but in that moment, he felt something like nostalgia for it.

"What're you thinking about, mate?" Charles's voice cut through the still darkness. The world was quiet here, away from London's main roads at three in the morning, but Charles's voice was bold and brave. "You've got that look on your face, the one you get when you're really engrossed in some book or puzzle."

"And what sort of look is that?" Edwin's voice was light.

Charles scrunched up his face and narrowed his eyes rather adorably.

Edwin chuckled. "You are being ridiculous," he admonished. "I have never looked like that. You once told me that my contemplative expression is quite clever; I shall choose to believe that rather than your insulting impression."

Charles smiled slightly. "Are you saying I didn't look clever like that? Well, that's rude, isn't it, when I tried so hard."

"You shall have to make a better effort next time." Edwin waved the hand that was not holding Charles's in the air, and Charles squeezed his hand. They continued to stroll along, and Edwin watched the flurries swirl under the light-posts. Electric lighting had been new back in his day, and it was not nearly as bright as this, so bright as to illuminate the snowfall and -

"Oi," Charles said. "You're doing it again." He did not release Edwin's hand, but brought the other one up to poke him on the shoulder. He poked far too many times, far too quickly. Edwin would not have had Charles any other way. "Come on, Edwin," he continued, "what's going on in that big brain of yours, huh?"

Edwin rolled his eyes and huffed. "I am simply contemplating what it might be like to feel... cold," he said. "I do not remember it."

"Oh." Charles stopped walking, and Edwin with him. His hand went slack, and they pulled apart as Charles continued. "That's... I guess... I don't really remember normal cold either, do I? Just like, the perils of terminal hypothermia or whatever."

"Very uplifting," Edwin murmured, and Charles nudged him.

"But. But." Charles tilted his head at Edwin. "I bet it's, like, the opposite of warm, yeah? Like, when you hold my hand, that's warm. Cold would be... the other thing, yeah?"

"Have you never thought it odd that humans always wish to sort things into arbitrary binaries? As much as I enjoy organized thought processes..."

"Hot/cold doesn't feel that arbitrary," Charles argued.

"I shall have to conduct further study." Edwin steepled his hands before himself, an unconscious habit that he knew made him appear confident.

But Charles grinned again. "I mean, if you want something else warm so you can better understand what its opposite might be..."

"Whatever do you mean?"

Charles reached out. He clasped Edwin's hands in his own, breaking his folded hands apart and squeezing his fingers. Then, still smiling, Charles took a step closer to Edwin and placed his hands on either side of his face. Edwin smiled at the last moment before their lips met, and Charles's mouth was as gentle as the snowflakes blowing lightly through the sky.

And warm. Of course, he was warm.

When Charles pulled away, large, uniquely-shaped snowflakes were stark against his black hair. Edwin wondered whether he was in such a state, too, and whether Charles liked the contrast as much as he did. But he did not have to wonder for long. Charles laughed quietly and reached upward to smooth down Edwin's hair, his expression so woefully fond that Edwin had to fight the urge to look away. "Love you, mate," he said casually, and Edwin could not help but smile.

Edwin's heart melted, but his eyes narrowed. "Wait," he said. "What on Earth did that have to do with our previous conversation? How am I meant to better understand the nature of cold due to that?"

"You're not," Charles said without a hint of shame. "I just made up an excuse to kiss you, didn't I. And it worked."

Edwin pivoted toward Charles. "You are trickier than I gave you credit for," he said, smirking.

"And you love me," Charles said, smiling as he trailed after Edwin.

Edwin reached out behind him, and Charles took his hand. "I suppose I do," Edwin mused.

He did not see the way that Charles smiled down at his boots.

dbda taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed):

@tiredandoptimistic @thevagabondexpress @stormkitty97 @innocentmapleleaf

@honorarypines @tragedy-machine @pisces-swirlix @authoricdemon @many-gay-magpies

@edwardianedwin @babyseraphim @stephen0118 @ingridmatthews

#dead boy detectives #dbda #edwin payne #charles rowland #payneland #my fic #drabble

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terresdebrume · 8 months ago

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I've written a couple of scenes of Charles' having an emotional breakdown and Edwin comforting him, I felt is was time for the reverse. Set in the I'm down on my knees universe at like. Some point, IG.

Warning for mentions of racist behavior throughout and also implied ableism via the Paynes vs Edwin. Hurt comfort. Sorta.

Edwin's fists start mashing together the second his hands come off the steering wheel, which Charles knows very well is the the top one sign of a stress spiral. It's pretty much the default position for Edwin's hands whenever they go to a social thing he hasn't got the hang on yet, and the morning before all his business law exams. It feels wrong to see them like that now, sitting in front of a rustic looking restaurant where his parents are waiting for them.

"We can still leave you know," he tells Edwin. "Tell them I tested positive for COVID and you don't want to risk giving it to them or something."

Edwin doesn't quite laugh, but the corners of his mouth lift up, and the creak of his leather driving gloves subsides for a moment. He makes a face like when he's trying to figure out how to say something he's not sure how to handle. Charles, one hand on his still buckled seatbelt and the other on the door handle, waits him out. Eventually, Edwin speaks.

"I should have said earlier," he says, sounding for all the world like the words are taffy stuck in his teeth, "but my parents are sort of... Well. They have a certain idea of how the world should work and be divided—"

"Yeah, I figured," Charles says. He grins when Edwin blinks at him. "Everyone else, when we've got plans, you say shit like 'Oh, Charles is making curry tonight'—"

"I do not sound like that," Edwin protests, but Charles snorts.

"You sound exactly like that, you big toff," he says, grin widening despite himself.

Edwin rolls his eyes and calls him ridiculous, fists softening against one another. Grinning to the point his cheeks ache, Charles gives Edwin's knee a light knock with his knuckles. It makes Edwin click his tongue, but Charles doesn't lose his smile.

"My point is, with you're parents it's always like 'Charles is making dinner' and stuff. Like you're playing the pronouns game with food."

Charles suppresses a wince when. Edwin's eyes widen and his fists tighten together again, like tectonic plates gearing up for an earthquake. Of course Edwin was going to take it the wrong way. Charles should have bloody well known better.

"I'm sorry," Edwin says, I didn't mean to—"

"It's fine," Charles shrugs. "I mean they know what I look like, right?"

"Yes!" Edwin promises, hands so tight together it looks like they're going to merge. "Of course. I made sure they couldn't pretend they'd misunderstood, too, I just—"

"Then I'm fine," Charles says, making sure his smile looks easier than it feels. "I was friends with racist gits for years, I can handle your parents for an hour."

Plus, they'll be in public. What are the Paynes gonna do, try to make him join the staff? Calling him the P slur over dessert? They might think it but Charles suspects they're too interested in seeming proper to be that crassly racist where they can be heard. Probably they'll just make some noise about certain types of people and NHS fraud and jobs being stolen away from the homeless people they have no intention to help. Maybe something about Islam—there people tend to assume Charles is a Muslim a lot. He chalks it up to two birds one stone mentality, and the appeal of unlocking two rants over a single guy.

"Alright," Edwin says, looking relieved but not guilt free yet. "But if you wish to leave early, please pretend you just remembered a favour you promised Jenny, will you? I will drive us back immediately."

"Sure, I'll do that," Charles promises. He genuinely doesn't think it'll be that bad, but if he's wrong he'll be glad have the out anyway.

Reassured, Edwin takes a deep breath, and nods, and in they go. Everything is very posh in that very 'bling is for lesser people' kind of way. The menu predictably shows no prices. Edwin's parents make the usual thinly veiled remarks about Charles and Indians and brown people in general, and it's not the most comfortable but Charles could deal with it if not for the Issue.

It starts when they approach the table, Edwin's parents standing next to it with spines so straight Charles half worries he's hunched down again. Edwin places his hands in his mother's to kiss the air around each of her cheek, but then when he goes to press his fists together again, she takes his wrists and pulls his hands apart. Charles's entire back goes rigid at the sight, but he manages to push it aside and smile as he extends a hand for Mrs. Payne to shake. He said he'd do his best to make the dinner a success, and he meant it.

They sit down, Edwin and Charles on one side of the rectangular table, Edwin's parents on the other. Edwin's hands are very flat on the white tablecloth, gloves pulled away and fingers carefully aligned together. They stay there while Edwin answers increasingly invasive questions about his studies and his life, but they drift together again when the Paynes' attention turns to Charles.

"Stop that," Mr. Payne says with a stern look, cutting himself off in the middle of a sanctimonious explanation of why Charles is not being ambitious enough in life.

It's such a complete contrast to the polite, vaguely affable air he took one when speaking to Charles, and he goes back to it so quickly, Charles barely has time to react. The only thing he can think of is to press his knee against Edwin's in comfort. He should have thought of a signal for Edwin, too. Or at least asked if he wanted one.

The entree's arrival provokes some surprised praise over how their brown waiter is surprisingly well trained and articulate, and Charles takes it in stride. They're not actually saying anything to the waiter, and when they do speak he's out of earshot. He's had worse, and Edwin doesn't quite seem to be ready to throw the towel in, so he'll stick it out a bit longer. Even if Edwin's going pinker and pinker with every minute that passes.

They're about halfway through their main dishes and another rant from Mr. Payne—augmented by his wife's approving noise and not much else, Edwin having fallen silent somewhere around the time his gaspacho touched the table. Charles hates to see him like this: Edwin has always had a big personality, a larger than average presence in any room. He should be leading the conversation, or at least insisting on being heard through it, not looking down at the tablecloth with his mouth shut.

Charles is halfway through opening his mouth to pretend Jenny just texted him about plumbing issues, when Edwin's dad speaks again. He has the kind of articulation they promote on the BBC, yet Charles doesn't register any of what he says, only the fact that Edwin's fists fly together without him even noticing, and then Mr. Payne's hand darts from the other side of the table to slap Edwin's closed hands.

Now, see, the thing about Charles, is he's got excellent reflexes. Between dodging his dad's many and varied projectiles over the years, a decade of cricket, and countless hours of playing shooting games, he's pretty much primed for it. Add to that the fact that he's been getting angrier and angrier on Edwin's behalf throughout the meal, and really Charles doesn't think he can be blamed for dropping his knife, reaching out, and slapping Mr. Payne's hands.

"How dare you?" The man hisses in the deadly silence that falls over the room after the exchange.

The whole restaurant seems to hold its breath, the way Charles and mum used to do whenever dad stopped and asked 'What did you just say?'. In the corner of Charles' vision, Edwin's mouth hangs partially open in shock even as Charles hisses:

"How dare you?"

"The way I discipline my son," Mr. Payne starts, and Charles snarls.

"Your son is twenty-five," he says raising his voice on purpose. "You don't get to treat him like a bloody toddler."

"You little—" Payne senior starts, but before Edwin even has the time to react to his dangerous tone, Charles stands up with a loud scrape of his chair against the floor.

"And another thing," he says, loudly speaking over the fast purpling man in front of him, "there's nothing wrong with Edwin. That thing with the hand? You're making a mountain out of a bloody molehill! And if you didn't spend so much time worrying about it, maybe you'd realize Edwin is really bloody mint, actually, and if you can't appreciate him, then I don't see why we should bother staying here at all." Charles pushes his chair back against the table with another loud scrape, and turns to Edwin. "Come on, let's go."

Edwin's parents protest, mildly at first and then more loudly, but Charles doesn't care. He's too furious at them, at the way they filled their son with a sort of guilty shame Charles had never seen until the, at the way they somehow managed to stop him from even wanting to answer.

He waits until Edwin stands up, and then he takes hold of Edwin's wrist and drags the both of them outside. Edwin has to tug hard on his arm to remind him they used a car to come in, actually, and they can't leave it there. He sounds—well he sounds strained, is what he does. The sort of voice that means there's an emotion somewhere he's not letting out, and this time Charles knows exactly where it's going.

"I'm so sorry," he says, "I ruined dinner!"

"Oh," Charles, Edwin sighs.

His eyes are wide and wet and his grin ks kind of wobbly, but he steps up and engulfs Charles in hug anyway, hands tightly clasped around Charles waist. Charles responds in kind, putting as much love as he can into the embrace, into the pressure of his arms around Edwin.

"Thank you," Edwin mumbles against Charles' neck. "No one ever stood up for me line that."

"They bloody well should have," Charles says, gentling his tone when he realizes something warm dripping down his neck.

Edwin, too busy controlling his crying the best he can, doesn't answer, but it doesn't matter. Charles holds him tight until he's done crying anyway.

#dead boy detectives #dbda fanfic #charles rowland #edwin payne #payneland #s: I'm down on my knees #matt writes #30n #40n #50n #60n #70n #80n #90n #100n

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autumn-equinox-04 · 7 months ago

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everywhere i go (leads me back to you)

Part 1

----

Charles fucked up.

He fucked up big-time.

Why did he say that? He knew how guilty Edwin felt about trapping them in Port Townsend, he knew something was up with the Cat King, he knew that he was being unreasonable. And yet he just kept going.

Normally, he's so good at recognizing Edwin's warning signs. He can't figure out what went wrong this time.

His attempts at apologizing have fallen flat. Edwin's told him it's fine, but it isn't, is it? He can tell it isn't from the the way Edwin doesn't look him in the eyes anymore, from the way he shifts away ever-so-slightly whenever Charles hovers at his shoulder like he's always done.

It doesn't help when Charles loses his mind at the Night Nurse. Afterwards, he can still see it every time he closes his eyes— Edwin's horrified face, looking at him with such an awful expression Charles wants to crawl into a hole and die all over again. It was like Edwin didn't know who Charles was anymore, didn't recognize the boy he gave his lantern and his warmth to all those years ago. It hurts so much Charles almost wishes he was drowning again, if it would make the horrible sinking feeling in his gut go away.

Just like your dad, aren't you? And you thought you were different. Everyone knows poison trees bear poison fruit.

Crystal and Niko pick up on it too. They tread lightly— though maybe that's because of his meltdown— but he can feel them eyeing him in a way they think is discreet. It creates an awful tension that Charles feels like he's suffocating on, because him and Edwin don't fight. They don't, they just.... don't. So how is he meant to navigate this mess that he's created with the novelty of two new additions to the agency?

He sits and he stews, and he pines a little, except it's not really pining when it's your best mate, right?

Then they get a case.

Edwin brings them Brad and Hunter, and Charles' spirits lift a little. A case means return to normalcy. It means a chance for Charles to save his relationship with the most important person in his life. And he will not fuck this up, no matter what.

"Give us a moment to discuss," Edwin says, once Brad and Hunter have presented their case.

"Yeah. Yeah, of course. Uh, and we can pay," Brad adds quickly. "If that helps."

Edwin gives him a considering, almost judgemental look over his shoulder, then turns away. Charles swallows thickly as the three of them huddle together. Normal. Just be normal. He slings an arm around Edwin's shoulder, feeling his stomach drop when Edwin tenses up a little.

"So, I hate jocks, but I kind of like them," Crystal starts.

"Well, yeah, they're good guys," Charles jumps in. Talking is normal, right? He glances at Edwin. Please, please, look at me. "They're just like us, Edwin. Dead mates who want answers after everyone else has moved on."

Edwin keeps his eyes trained on the ground, giving him the tiniest nod.

"Also, no witches, no monsters, no evil seagulls. And—" Crystal glances over her shoulder then leans back down with a small grin— "they can pay."

"Well, it could still be a witch," Edwin says consideringly. "But otherwise, I'm in total agreement."

"Wait," Crystal says, smirking. "Did we all just agree on a case?"

Edwin glances up at her, corner of his mouth quirking up. He doesn't look at Charles once.

Charles feels sick.

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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 1 year ago

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This Is Where You Stand With Me (part 2)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader

Warnings: none

Part 1 here

Y/N's POV

"Hola madre!" I say jokingly as my mother answered the phone.

"Too much influence from Sophie's boyfriend or what?" She chuckles.

"Yeah, something like that." I laugh adjusting myself on the couch. "How are you? What's new?" I ask.

"Nothing much, I'm just going back home from work. What's up with you?"

"I'm enjoying my day off from work." I say biting my lip not sure how's she going to react to my new "job" which I haven't told her about yet. But I'm certain she's not going to be thrilled about it.

"What do you mean y/n? What work?" As soon as she says "Y/N" I know there's no joking anymore.

"Well," I take a deep breath before I continue. "First of all, don't freak out, it's only my temporary job, you know while I'm here in Monaco with Sophie. And second of all, I started working for Ferrari practically. I'm managing their social media."

"Explain it a bit better, please. What does that mean?" She asks confused.

"Basically, I'm spending a lot of time with their drivers. I'm filming them for social media, like when they're getting ready for the race, asking them some questions, filming behind the scenes like what happens before the race, filming them training and stuff like that you know. And I edit those videos and then post them." I try to explain to her as simply as possible. but my mom, like most others, is not on the internet, she is not interested in the world of social media and probably still does not understand why anyone would be interested in any of this.

"So who are you filming then? Sophie's boyfriend and?"

"Carlos and Charles." As I say his name my mind wanders briefly to Charles and the grand prix from last weekend. I wonder how he is, and if he talked to Ava. and what happened between them afterwards. I also wonder if he has already thrown somewhere the bracelet I gave him. As I've already said, you just never know with him.

"Y/n?" My mom's voice snaps me out of my thoughts. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Sorry my thoughts wandered for a moment. What did you ask?"

"I asked if you are satisfied with that job? Are you treated well? What are those boys like?" Like any mother, she worriedly asks a million questions and I, like any other daughter, of course, will not tell her everything in detail.

I have always been close to my mother, but I never liked to share every detail of my life with her, even though she wanted to know it. But I just wasn't comfortable with her knowing all my private things. I believe that you can be close to your mother, without her being involved in all your decisions, attitudes and thoughts. We talk more or less about everything, but I have set some boundaries for myself about what I want to share with her and I think that's exactly why we have a relatively good and healthy relationship.

"Yeah, I mean it's not something I'll do forever, it's just a temporary type of thing, so while I'm here I might as well earn some money." I say. "And everybody's nice to me, of course, I already told you that Carlos is a wonderful person and boyfriend to Sophie, and Charles..He's not so bad either."

"You don't sound so convincing with the other one." She says referring to Charles.

"Don't worry really, both of them are very nice, it's just that I don't know Charles very well yet and I haven't spent much time with him so I can't say much about him." I say honestly.

While talking to her on the phone, I get up and head to the kitchen to make myself some coffee. While walking to the kitchen, I pass by the mirror and almost get scared when I see what I look like. Shaggy hair in a bun, without a hint of makeup, braless in an extra-large t-shirt with a print of Los Pollos Hermanos that also serves as my nightgown and house slippers on my feet. I guess I'm not one of those ex girlfriends that has a glow up after a breakup, but oh well.

"Well, as long as you're happy and safe, I'm fine with it." My mom says. "And besides, I think it's good for you that you left Manchester for a bit. Stay as long as you want."

"Really?" I am a bit taken aback and surprised by her words. "How come you think so?" I ask while waiting for coffee to be poured from the machine into the cup.

"I-I.." Just as she was about to say something the doorbell rings. Sophie went to lunch with Carlos, I doubt they forgot their keys.

"Mom, there's someone at the door, I'll have to call you a little later, okay?"

"Okay, we'll talk later, bye." She says and I hung up the phone.

I leave my phone on the kitchen counter and just as I'm about to go into the hallway to open the door, I accidentally pull the cup with my hand and spill hot coffee on my right thigh.

"Ouchh!" I almost scream in pain while the hot coffee continues to pour down my leg. "Fuck!!" My eyes get watery from the pain and stinging. Cursing my clumsiness I grab a cloth and wipe my thigh which is burning more and more and the doorbell keeps ringing. I go and open the front door when none other than Charles is standing leaning against the door frame.

"Charles, what are you doing here?" I ask with a sniff. I don't open the door all the way, but just peek out with my head. The last thing I needed is him here while I'm crying over my coffee burn and looking like I got mowed by a tornado.

"Y/n, are you alright? Why are you crying?" He asks, his expression immediately turned serious as he tries to enter.

"I just spilled hot coffee on myself. Please don't come in.." I really don't want him to see me like this.

"Let me help you." He says ignoring me and coming in anyway closing the door behind him.

"No, Charles..I-I'll be fine." I say pulling my t-shirt down with one hand and still holding the cloth with the other one.

"Let me see." He bends down and removes my hand with which I'm holding the cloth. "You got burned well." He says.

"Yeah, I can feel it. It hurts pretty bad."

"Come here." He waves his hand for me to follow him into the bathroom. It seems like he has already been in this apartment before. They probably had some gathering at Sophie's, so he knows where everything is.

"Sit there." He says pointing to the tub as he takes a small towel from the shelf under the sink and soaks it in cold water. I briefly feel a sense of relief as he kneels down in front of me and places a wet towel over my burn.

"You know, I really appreciate your help, but I feel terribly uncomfortable-"

"Yeah, I already saw that you don't have a bra on." He cuts me off and my cheeks instantly get as red as the burn on my thigh.

"You don't have to point it out like that.." I can't help but chuckle a little at his nonchalant response.

"You really do have to stop embarrassing yourself in front of me." He laughs.

"Why did you come here in the first place?" I ask shaking my head.

"I'm here to pick up Carlos. We agreed to go to the gym together, and he said he would be at Sophie's." He says taking the towel off my thigh and soaking it again. "So here I am. Where are the two of them anyway?"

"They went out for lunch. I think they should be back any minute now since they've been gone for a while." As he comes back with the cold towel I notice that he's wearing the red bracelet I gave him last weekend. He puts the towel over my thigh again and gently presses it.

"And what are you doing alone in the apartment, except destroying it?" I really like this funny side of Charles. For I moment I wished he could be like this all the time.

"Certainly not waiting for you." I playfully answer back.

"Yeah, sure you aren't." He says confidently and I roll my eyes at him. "I'm going to clean up that coffee you spilled on the floor." You can see the kitchen from the bathroom, so he definitely made sure I knew that he saw the mess I made.

While Charles is cleaning up in the kitchen, I quickly go to my room and put on shorts and a bra under my t shirt. Since he's already seen me at my worst, I decide not to fix my hair but to leave it messy like this. It's already too late now to look presentable anyway.

"Have you put on a bra yet?" He asks shamelessly as I enter the kitchen.

"Has anyone ever told you that you can be very inappropriate?" I honestly ask him.

"Quite rude thing to say to someone who just helped you."

"Thank you. Charles. For your generous help." I say slightly sarcastically through gritted teeth. "Do you want me to check when they're coming back?"

"Why? Can't wait to get rid of me?"

"No." I roll my eyes. "I'm just asking if you're in a hurry."

"I'm not. I'll wait for him. I hope they'll be back soon." He says taking a seat on the high chair at the kitchen island.

"Do you want something to drink while you wait?"

"A glass of water will do."

I reach for a glass from the top kitchen unit and in the process I scratch the injured thigh on the handle of the lower element. I wince in pain and curse under my breath.

"Be careful, where is your towel?" Charles asks me getting up from the chair. Before I can say I left it on the tub, he's already back from the bathroom with it. "Sit there." He almost orders me and I do it obediently while he soaks the towel again in the kitchen sink. He moves my hand from my thigh and puts the wet towel over it.

I don't know why, but I decide not to tell him that I can do it myself. And he doesn't say it either but proceeds to hold his hand a little longer over the cold compress looking down at it and gently pressing on it. I lift up my head to look up at him and for a second we lock our eyes together without saying a word.

"I-I.." In a moment of nervousness I wanted to say something just to break the silence, but luckily I hear the front door open. Charles quickly moves his hand away and goes to the opposite side of the kitchen island clearing his throat.

"Hello..guys..?" Sophie says as Carlos and her enter the kitchen looking very confused at the scene before them.

part 3

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