#apparently he’s told a few people at their work that we’re talking and that he likes me so now everyone in the building knows

[peachlit]

i’m talking to a new guy. on another note….. ethics of dating your mom’s employee??

[gremlinmodetweeker]

Big Guy Big Belly

König is a big man, and with a big man comes a big appetite. We’re talking about a 6’10 man constantly maintaining his peak physique. He needs to be consuming as many calories and as much protein, carbs, fats, fiber and more to keep himself in fit and fighting shape.

At the canteen, he’s a nightmare. I bet that people rush to the cafeteria just to make sure they get something to eat before the big man on base rolls up. He’ll clear out the bins if he gets a chance. There’s a rumour on base that the reason König fought so hard to climb the ranks so quickly was just to be able to eat more and get away with it. Little do they know that they’re absolutely right, but König will never say that out loud. Ever. There’s some secrets you take to your grave. 

Either way, König is a menace in the canteen. He’ll pile his plate as high as he can when he gets a chance. He’s packing away all he can get in the shortest amount of time he can, and everyone has to suffer for it. The worst part is that everyone has to rush to get to the caf before König, and König knows exactly what others are doing, so he’s in a daily race against the entire base to eat his fill. It’s always a photo-finish to see who gets to the cafeteria first.  König currently has been slacking, so he’s not been eating like he normally has. Is he mad? Not really. He’ll clean out the snack cart later. 

He’s a monster late at night. Everyone knows that you need to leave the big man to his snacks, lest you face the wrath of the colossus on base. Well, wrath in a peculiar way. He just gets quiet and angry, but it’s still not a fun experience to try and fight him for a sandwich. If you take the last egg salad sandwich you’ll be at the top of his shit list for the next week. Don’t even think he won’t track you down. He’ll throw around his rank just to get his hands on the poor bastard. Nobody is safe, either.

Stiletto only once took the last pudding cup. Once. She never made that mistake again. For a week he was giving her dirty looks over a cold shoulder as he bumbled down the hall. She eventually had to give in and sacrifice a desert to be able to get back in his good graces. She still thinks he’s a massive bitch because of it. And you know what? She’s right. Everybody knows she’s right, König included, but he’ll keep going after whoever ‘steals’ ‘his’ snacks. They get along a bit better now that they’ve both advanced in rank and worked together, but there was a good period of time where Stiletto had to sleep with one eye open.

It gets a bit better for everyone when König finally finds a partner and doesn’t stay on base so often. Everyone takes a moment to pray for the poor soul who has to cook for König whenever he gets home from deployment.

See, during deployment, König can’t be such a massive bitch about food. He gets his rations, and that’s that. He can’t steal from anybody else, so he gets stuck with these pitiful MREs that barely fill him up. It’s miserable, and he’s losing weight like crazy when on the field. He’s running on fumes and burning calories like crazy as he’s risking his life out there. It’s gotten to a point where König has taken to eating with hostages post-rescue to ‘help them feel safer’ (read: get more food into his gullet). Thankfully, he puts his best foot forward when dealing with victims of trauma and ensures that he has somebody else do all the socializing while he plays with the kids after dinner. Apparently, after the inevitable shower of tears whenever kids have to face König, he becomes pretty popular. They love to use him as a jungle gym (and make fun of him) and he’s just happy to get more to eat. He’ll take being called ‘bigger than even my dad!’, being told ‘you’re weird’ or being asked ‘why are you so big and scary all the time?’ any day for a little extra to eat. He can tolerate a few kids. He won’t ever admit that hanging around them makes him want some kids of his own, or at least not to Horangi, who’s already teasing König about being a surrogate father to the kids. König tells him to keep it to himself, but Horangi is already buying things for the baby shower.

Once König finally comes home, that’s when all Hell breaks loose. This man has been starving and he needs food NOW. He won’t take no for an answer. If you don’t have something prepared, he’ll be ordering a massive order of takeout the likes of which you’ve never seen before in your life. He’ll hit multiple places on his way back to your place if he doesn’t think you’ve been able to get something together for him. If you can’t cook, he won’t even bother telling you to cook for him and just focus on getting a whole banquet of junk food ready for when he arrives home. He brings the pizzas in the door before he even brings in his own bags. You’ll have to go out and grab his bag as he sets up his personal buffet table. The worst part is despite how much he can shove down, he always buys more than he can eat, so you’ve got a couple of days worth of food to shove in the fridge at the end of the night.

If you can cook, this is a multi-day experience. Is it rewarding? Absolutely. Is it painful? Abso-fucking-lutely. He’s got you slaving for hours a day just to get him a nice home cooked meal. You’ll be going all out to get him a big enough meal. We’re thinking a tray of mac and cheese, a whole roast chicken, easily a handful of loaded baked potatoes. If you have something from your traditional cuisine, he’s not picky, he’ll gobble it up in a heartbeat. Knowing you made it for him is more than enough for him. Food is the way to a man’s heart, some say, and König will never let you go if you treat him like the king he is.

The good thing about cooking König such a big meal is that he gives back. He’s not a fan of cooking, but for the next few days he’ll take over cooking and cleaning in the kitchen. It’s just an easy way for him to give back, you know? He can’t thank you enough with words, so why not with actions?

But the best part of König giving back is that he’s an excellent cook. He cooks mostly traditional food from his culture, but he’s down for some french or italian cooking if you’re into it. He can make a mean lasagne. He does not skimp on the cheese, this man. No he’s a cheese fiend. If you’re lactose intolerant, you’ve got another thing coming for you. He will hand feed you lactaid just for the meal. If you have a dietary restriction, he’ll learn how to cook your types of meals in abundance. He’s perfect that way. Vegetarian, vegan, keto, no matter what, he’s got your back. He’s learned how to make an excellent spread for a dinner party, and part of learning to cater to others is to work around other people’s diets; his mother drilled that rule into his little head as a kid. He does it without complaint, too. For at least a week after coming home, he’s just so happy to be around food in abundance again. He’s absolutely thriving in the kitchen before the thrill wears off and he’s back to avoiding cooking like the plague again.

He loves to eat, but usually hates to cook. He’ll mostly eat takeout until he actually has to eat a nutritious meal again for a change. It’s not that cooking is awful, it’s just that he hates doing the dishes. He’d be far more inclined if he didn’t have to do the dishes afterwards. If you take over dishes, he’ll definitely step up his game for the both of you.

All in all, König loves to eat. He’s a big man with a bigger appetite, as hard as that is to believe. Once he retires he has to learn to cut back a fair bit, but he never loses his taste for sweets and snacks. It’s just something you’ll have to learn to live with.

[monzabee]

the alchemy - cs55

masterlist || part 1 || part 3 ||

Summary: The one where not Carlos, nor you, have the power to fight the alchemy. 

Pairing: dad!carlos sainz x mom!reader 

Word Count: 7.2k

Warnings: absolute fluff (been a while), possible ovary explosion bc of dad!carlos, cursing (because i use way too many f-bombs in real life too), kids (apparently, it’s a tw for some people), i tried hating charles but it’s not happenning so a cheater redemption arc (kinda, he's trying okay??)

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! first of all, thank you all so much for the love you showed for part one, i really appreciate it and i'm sorry that this part has been a little delayed, but i just wanted it to be just as drama-filled as the first part whilst still being a bit lighter so i hope i found the right balance for it. while we love dad!carlos, i felt like charles still deserved a chance to redeem himself and come to his senses so we love that redemption arc for him (well, kinda guess?). also, i know we have one more part of this little mini-series to go, a social media au (yay!), but i just wanted to let you all know, once again, that i do not have a taglist, and no i will not be making one!! however, i do appreciate all your support and comments, and please do let me know what you think about this part! thanks to @percervall once again, who had to listen me talk about this part for many many hours and who was kind enough to help me proofread!! i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee 

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

It only happened once every few lifetimes. 

You honestly did not expect to end up with one of your closest friends – especially not after you told your cheating husband that you were getting a divorce, after he chose his lover over you and your baby; and most definitely not after the said close friend told you that he would step up instead of your cheat of a husband.  

But there you are, in the arms of non-other than Carlos Sainz, your boyfriend, having just woken up by the excited pitter patter of feet right outside your bedroom door. “Carlos,” you whisper, nudging him softly to wake him up, “Carlos, wake up.” You watch as he stirs, and then buries his head onto his pillow mumbling all the reasons why he doesn’t want to be awake, but you just chuckle softly as you poke him again. “Carlos, please.” 

With a disgruntled grunt, you watch as his eyes open, and with a scratchy voice he whines, “What, amor, I was sleeping.” 

Rolling your eyes, you point to the bedroom door, “Listen,” you tell him, and watch as his eyes widen as realisation sets in at the same time his expression turns into a smiling one. “I think someone is excited for today.”  

“You think?” He retorts, snorting lightly as he pulls you closer, “That’s all he’s been able to talk about for weeks, amor.”  

“Well, can you blame him?” You nudge him, ignoring the sound of scraping of your son’s step stool outside your door. “He just wants to watch his father win.” Watching the smile on your boyfriend’s face grows as the door handle is jiggling, you point to the pillows with your head, “Let’s just pretend we’re asleep, he’ll be happier that way.”  

With a deep sigh, the happy kind, he pulls you closer to himself – at the right time too, as you hear the patter of footsteps getting closer. With a tug at the comforter, you hear, “Papa, wake up.” You can hear Carlos, badly, muffling a chuckle by burying his head deeper into your neck, but the little voice beside him is non-relenting. “Papa! You promised me we’d go to the race today!”  

“Carlos,” you whisper covertly, “you’re going to make him cry.”  

Giving you a look that silently says, No I won’t, he turns towards the little intruder in your bedroom, quickly gathering him in his arms as he puts him on the bed next to you. The sound of laughter coming from two of the most important men in your life bring a sleepy smile to your face as you watch Carlos tickle your son despites his protests for him to stop.  

“Mommy!” Your son exclaims, climbing over Carlos to reach you, “Tell Papa to stop! We need to get ready!” His face is flushed with excitement and laughter, a sight that fills your heart with warmth. 

“Alright, alright,” you say, giggling as you pull him into a hug, “let’s get ready then. You don’t want to be late for your big day, do you?” 

Carlos finally stops his playful assault, sitting up and stretching with a groan. “She’s right, buddy. We should all get up and get going. Lots to do before the race, you still remember our plan for breakfast?” Your son’s eyes light up even more, if that were possible, and he scrambles off the bed, running back to his room to get dressed. You and Carlos exchange a glance, something you seem to do more now than ever.  

You wait until Rafael is out of the hearing distance before you tilt your head sideways and narrow your eyes in question, “What plan are you talking about?” 

“Nothing for you,” he boops your nose with his pointer finger as he straightens up and gets out of the bed, “to worry your pretty little head about. Just come to the kitchen when you’re ready.” 

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued but willing to play along. “So, you think I’m pretty?” you ask, batting your eyes at him exaggeratedly as he gently shoves you back into the bed. Getting up and stretching, which you shamelessly take the opportunity to ogle him, you watch him with a smile as he heads towards the kitchen following your son. Getting ready consists of brushing your teeth and hastily throwing on a robe for you, too anxious to see what you son and husband cooking up in the kitchen – literally.  

The scene in the kitchen is enough to melt your heart on its own – Rafael is standing on his trusty step stool at the counter, his little hands busy arranging an assortment of fruits on a plate. The concentration on his face is evident by the way his tongue peeks out slightly in that adorable way he does when he’s focused, a habit that he picked up from his father. Your boyfriend, on the other hand, is busy with flipping something in a pan, shirtless might you add.  

“Oh my God, look at my boys!” You croon, leaning against the doorframe with a playful grin. “You even have matching hats and everything!” 

“Boys?” Carlos scoffs, turning to Rafael and pointing his finger towards you, “Can you believe her?” He then turns to you as he places his hands on his hips and puffs out his chest. “We are not boys, amor, we are men.” 

You chuckle at his exaggerated display of masculinity, shaking your head as you walk further into the kitchen. “Oh, of course, how could I forget? The two manliest men I know,” you tease, your voice dripping with playful sarcasm. 

Rafael, picking up on the banter, puffs out his little chest just like his father, mimicking his stance. “Yeah, Mommy! We're strong, right, Papa?” 

Carlos grins, his eyes twinkling as he looks at Rafael. “That’s right, we’re the strongest men in the world." He turns back to you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “And we make the best breakfast too. Isn’t that right, Raf?” 

“Yes!” Rafael exclaims, beaming with pride as he holds up the plate of perfectly arranged fruit. “Look what I made, Mommy!” 

You lean down to inspect his handiwork, smiling softly. “Wow, this looks incredible, sweetheart. You’re so talented!” You give him a big kiss on the cheek, making him giggle. 

Carlos steps closer, holding out a fork with a piece of pancake speared on it. “And how about a taste test, amor?” His voice is softer now, the playful tone giving way to something more tender. 

You take the fork from him, taking a bite of the pancake. The fluffiness and warmth of it fill your senses, and you can’t help but let out a contented sigh. “This is amazing, Carlos. You’ve outdone yourself.” 

He watches you with a satisfied smile, clearly pleased with your reaction. “Only the best for you.” 

Rafael, not wanting to be left out, grabs a piece of fruit and holds it up to you. “Try mine too, Mommy!” 

You take the fruit from him, savouring the sweetness as you chew. “Delicious! You’re both going to spoil me with all this great food.” 

Carlos chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist as he presses a kiss to your temple. “That’s the plan,” he murmurs against your skin, making you shiver slightly. “I can also spoil you in the other way you like,” his voice drops enough for only you to hear.  

You glance up at him, meeting his playful yet heated gaze, and feel a blush creep up your cheeks. “Carlos,” you murmur, half-warning, half-inviting, as Rafael happily oblivious to the exchange, chatters away about his breakfast creation. “I would like to still be able to walk by the time we get to the paddock.” 

But Carlos just smirks, leaning in to brush his lips against your ear, his breath warm and intoxicating. “Later, amor,” he promises, his voice thick with affection and mischief. 

Before you can respond, Rafael tugs at your robe, breaking the spell. “Mommy! Let’s eat now!” His voice is filled with the kind of innocent excitement that only a child can muster, and it instantly brings you back in the present moment. 

You smile down at him, ruffling his hair affectionately. “Alright, let’s eat. I’m starving.” Carlos gives you one last knowing glance before stepping back to grab the plates. As the three of you settle down at the table, you try to ignore his lingering gaze that makes your heart race just a bit faster, though you’re not exactly that successful. 

It would be safe to say that it had been a crazy few years for Carlos Sainz. Or at least, that’s what Charles would say – if, you know, anybody was to ask him his opinion. First, he had lost his seat at Ferrari, and Charles really felt for him at first; after all, he was his teammate. But he was also the man who ended his marriage, so his feelings for Carlos changed for the worse very quickly. The whole situation had him coming to some revelations.  

First revelation he came to was the fact that he was wrong for cheating on his wife, however complicated the situation might be. He had tried to justify it to himself, blaming the stress and the strain, but deep down, he knew there was no excuse for what he’d done. 

Second revelation was that you deserved to be happy, with or without him – he was just being petty because it was with his old teammate. You deserved to be happy, and while Charles could admit that in theory, accepting that your happiness was now tied to Carlos was a bitter pill to swallow. 

Third, and probably the biggest, revelation was that he had royally screwed up when he chose the other woman over you and your son, and it was a loss that he mourned every single day. If he thought seeing Carlos thrive after his own life was crumbling down was hurting his ego, seeing Carlos be the father to his son, was a thousand times worse.  

Life took an interesting turn for Carlos after that night at the hotel in Monte Carlo. You had no expectations for him, you didn’t expect him to stay true to his words and be there for you and your baby. But that was the thing, because he kept his promise. He was at your door the next morning with a short list of apartments and penthouses in Monte Carlo. Anticipating your need of getting out of the country, he was prepared – he also looked at apartments in New York, houses in LA and townhouses in London (the few apartments he chose in Madrid also didn’t escape you, but it was a conversation you weren’t ready to have yet). So, when you were having, yet another breakdown in front of him, he just stood next to you and held you until you calmed down. He was always next to you, somehow managing his schedule for the racing season and coming out to see you between races. He kept true to his promise as he made waffles for you at midnight, grumbling about how pancakes were superior, and he held your hand when you were in the delivery room even though you were probably close to breaking the poor man’s hand. The bigger shock came when he announced that he would not be racing for the next season – something he had conveniently not told you in the months leading up to your pregnancy. It also led up to your first fight, and your first real confrontation since this unexpected journey began. The news that Carlos wouldn’t be racing the next season blindsided you. It wasn’t just the fact that he had made such a monumental decision without consulting you; it was the realisation that he had chosen you and your child over the sport he loved so deeply. 

“What do you mean you’re not racing next season?” you had asked, your voice edged with disbelief. You were standing in the kitchen of the new apartment he had helped you find, your baby—your son—napping peacefully in the next room. Carlos was casually leaning against the counter, arms crossed, as if he had just announced something as mundane as what was for dinner. 

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, a habit you had come to recognize as a sign that he was about to say something serious. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while,” he said, his voice calm, and God it drove you insane how calm and rational he was being with a decision so irrational to you. “And after everything that’s happened... I just think it’s the right decision for now.” 

“But racing is your life,” you insisted, the weight of his words settling in. “I don’t understand how you can just walk away from it.” 

Carlos met your gaze, his brown eyes steady and full of determination. “It’s not about walking away,” he explained. “It’s about priorities. You and Rafael... you’re my priority now. I want to be here for you both, not halfway across the world, missing out on everything.” 

The sincerity in his voice made your heart ache. For so long, you had been used to being let down, to promises that were made and then broken. But here was Carlos, standing in front of you, willing to give up something he loved more than anything for you and your son. 

“That’s not fair to you,” you whispered, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes. “I don’t want to be the reason you give up on your dreams.” 

Carlos stepped closer, gently cupping your face in his hands. “You’re not taking anything away from me,” he assured you. “You’re giving me something I didn’t even know I needed. I’m choosing this, because I want to. I want to be here for you, to be the father Rafael deserves. I want us to be a family.” 

His words broke through the wall you had been holding up, and you let the tears fall. It wasn’t just about the sacrifice he was making; it was about the fact that he was doing it willingly, without hesitation, because he wanted to be with you and Rafael. It was a love that was deeper than anything you had ever known, and it terrified you as much as it filled you with hope. 

“But what if you regret it?” you asked, your voice trembling with the weight of your fears. 

“I won’t,” Carlos said firmly, his thumbs gently brushing away your tears. “I know what I want. And if I ever go back to racing, it’ll be when we’re ready. When we both decide it’s the right time. But for now, this is where I need to be.” 

You searched his eyes for any sign of doubt, but there was none. He was as serious as ever, and in that moment, you realized that this wasn’t just about him making a choice— it was about him choosing you, over and over again, in a way no one ever had before. 

The argument you had anticipated fizzled out before it could even begin. There was nothing left to fight about, not when he had laid his heart bare for you. All you could do was fall into his arms, holding onto him tightly as you let the weight of his decision sink in. It was overwhelming, knowing that someone loved you that much, that they would uproot their entire world just to be by your side. 

So, yeah, Carlos Sainz had not raced for the 2025 season. If it were up to him, he would stay with the two of you for the 2026 season as well, but you and Carlos Sainz Sr managed to convince him to get back to the real world, no matter how much he was enjoying being a stay-at-home dad. But the biggest shock for the world, and Charles, wasn’t that Carlos was returning to the F1 grid – no, the biggest shock was that he was returning to the F1 grid in one of the most coveted seats; right next to Max Verstappen. The reaction to the news had been mixed. Some were thrilled to see him back, eager to see what he could do in a car as competitive as the Red Bull. Others were skeptical, wondering if a year away from the sport had dulled his edge. For Charles, the news was a bitter pill to swallow. Carlos wasn’t just returning to the grid—he was stepping into one of the most sought-after seats in F1. But more than that, it was the reminder that Carlos had taken something else from him, something far more personal and painful. Watching Carlos step into his new role at Red Bull, knowing that he was now part of your life and Rafael’s life in a way Charles never could be, was a constant, aching reminder of everything he had lost. 

And so began the Leclerc-Sainz rivalry – which although sounds riveting, is probably the reason why you had to visit your cardiologist more times than necessary within the last couple of years. On the surface, it was the perfect storyline: two former teammates, now on opposing sides, battling it out on the track in some of the most intense and thrilling races the sport had ever seen. But for you, it was far from entertainment. Each race weekend became a new source of anxiety, and Carlos knew how much it affected you, so he tried his best to keep the rivalry on the track. He would reassure you, telling you that whatever happened during the race, it wouldn’t change how he felt about you or Rafael. But even he couldn’t deny that the tension between him and Charles was personal. It was more than just racing—it was about proving something, not just to the world, but to themselves and each other. And so, race after race, you found yourself on an emotional rollercoaster. The thrill of seeing Carlos perform at his best was always accompanied by the fear of what might happen if things went wrong. The rivalry wasn’t just a storyline for the media—it was a real, living thing that had a profound impact on your life. 

So, when Rafael told you that he wanted to watch his father race live, you were hesitant to agree. The thought of bringing your son into that world—where emotions ran high, and the stakes were even higher—filled you with dread. The last thing you wanted was for Rafael to witness the intensity of the rivalry that had consumed not just Carlos and Charles, but your entire life. 

Carlos, however, was adamant. He knew how much it meant to Rafael to see him race, to be a part of something that had been such a significant part of Carlos’s life before Rafael was born. “He needs to see it,” Carlos told you one evening as you sat together, discussing Rafael’s request. “He needs to know what I do, why it’s important to me, and why I went back to racing in the first place.”  

You couldn’t deny that Carlos had a point. Rafael idolized his father and seeing him in action would only strengthen the bond between them. But the idea of watching the race unfold, of seeing Carlos and Charles go head-to-head while your son was there, was almost too much to bear. The days leading up to the race were a blur of preparation and anxiety. Carlos did his best to reassure you, but the tension was palpable. He understood your fears and promised to keep things professional, but you both knew that once the lights went out, everything would be on the line. So, you weren’t exactly surprised that your boyfriend spent the entire morning buttering you up and getting you to relax as much as possible about the day ahead of you.  

And to be perfectly fair, he was right for the most part. It had been fine from the moment you made it into the paddock, which somehow worked wonders on your anxiety. As you made your way to the circuit, Rafael’s excitement was infectious. He was practically bouncing in his seat, his little face pressed against the window as he took in the sights. You couldn’t help but smile, his joy momentarily easing the knot of anxiety that had been tightening in your chest since the moment you agreed to come to the paddock in the first place.  

Seeing him so happy and in his element, you know instantly that the paddock, no matter in which country, is going to become his safe place. Rafael keeps asking Carlos questions about everything from how they manage to keep the cars so clean to what would happen if they didn’t wear helmets. And Carlos is patient as he answers all his questions, no matter how childish or obvious they might seem. So, when he told Rafael that maybe, just maybe, he might end up in one of the cars he admires so much one day, you know your son won’t miss the beat. “Can I?” He asks you, eyes widened with a pleading look as he clasps his hands together under his chin, “Please, Mommy, I promise I’ll be very careful.”  

“Absolutely not,” you shake your head, mind immediately starting to think about all the things that could go wrong, “it’s so dangerous! Just think about how afraid you’d be of the speed.”  

Rafael scoffs, arms crossed on his chest as he pleads through the pout he has on his face, “I’m not afraid of the speed! Papa, tell her I’m not afraid of the speed!” 

Carlos reaches over Rafael’s head as he takes off his cap and ruffles his hair, which manages to get a series of giggles from the little boy, and he affirms, “You are not afraid of the speed, but your mother is right.” You have to hold in your laughter when you see the indignant look on Rafael’s face, but Carlos continues talking as he signals for his son to listen, “We can talk about it when you are older, but for right now you are my lead strategist, capisce?” 

Rafael steers his pout towards you, and you shrug innocently in response, which gets a resigning sigh from him. “That’s fine, I guess.” He mumbles, and points to the garage door behind the table the three of you are sitting, “Can I look at your car again?” 

“Be careful, and make sure you tell Caco where you are.” Carlos reminds him, as Rafael excitedly scurries off toward the garage, leaving you and Carlos to share a quiet moment. 

Carlos leaned back in his chair, a content smile playing on his lips as he watched Rafael dart off. “He’s got the bug,” he says, a hint of pride in his voice. 

You sigh, shaking your head playfully. “I know. He’s already got the attitude. I don’t think I’m ready for him to jump in a kart and never look back.” 

Carlos reaches for your hand, his touch grounding you. “We’ll keep him safe,” he says quietly, his gaze meeting yours. “I promise. Whatever happens, we’ll make sure he’s ready, and we’ll protect him from the worst of it.” 

You nod, squeezing his hand in return, trusting him like you always have. As you sit together, watching Rafael’s excitement fill the garage, the sweet moment is interrupted by a voice both of you know very well. “Seriously? You’re using him to get to me on a race day now?”  

Your fingers nearly crush your poor boyfriend’s hand as you look at the intruder, your heart immediately racing. You turn to see Charles standing there, his expression a mix of frustration and disbelief. His eyes flicker from Carlos to you, then toward the garage where Rafael had just run off. “Excuse me?” You manage to get out, your voice sharp with surprise. The audacity of his accusation stings more than you expected. Charles' gaze hardens as he steps closer, clearly not backing down. 

“You heard me,” Charles says, his tone edged with bitterness. “Bringing Rafael here, right in the middle of everything... it’s not a coincidence. You’re just trying to—” 

“To what?” Carlos cuts in, his voice calm but firm. His protective instincts kick in as he stands, placing himself between you and Charles. “To have a good day with our son? To let him enjoy the race?” 

Charles scoffs, shaking his head. “He’s not your son, he’s mine. Stop fooling yourself into thinking you’re his father just because you’re here.” 

The words hit like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, everything goes silent. Carlos' expression tightens, but he doesn’t move, his body still a shield between you and Charles. You feel your breath catch in your throat, the weight of Charles’ words hanging heavy in the air. “I know who his father is, Charles,” Carlos says, his voice calm but steely. “And considering the fact that he doesn’t even know you exist, I’d say me being here is more than proof that I am his father.” 

Charles' jaw clenches, and his eyes flicker with something raw—pain, jealousy, frustration, all mixed together. “You think you can just step in and take my place? Be the dad, play happy family with my son?” 

“Cabrón,” Carlos warns, and though you’ve heard him use that nickname for his friends countless of times, this voice is devoid of all affection, “you lost all right to call yourself Rafael’s father when you decided to choose whatever flavour of the month you were with at the time.” You feel your heart race, not from fear, but from the sheer intensity of the moment and the murderous look on Carlos’ face. Carlos steps forward, his voice low but terse. “You think being a father is about biology? About showing up when it’s convenient for you? Rafael doesn’t even know who you are because you’ve never been there for him. I have. I’ve been the one tucking him in, I've been there when he was sick and crying, and I’m the one showing him love every single day.”  

Charles flinches, the sting of the truth evident in his expression. For a moment, the fire in his eyes dims, replaced by something else— regret, perhaps. But it’s gone as quickly as it appeared, and he straightens his posture, trying to regain control of the situation. “I made mistakes,” Charles says, his voice quiet but defiant. “But you can’t just erase me from his life. He has a right to know who his real father is.” 

Carlos’ gaze doesn’t waver, his protective instincts blazing. “Rafael knows who his real father is. He may not understand all the details yet, but he knows who’s been there for him. And when the time comes, when he’s ready, we’ll tell him the truth. But that decision isn’t yours to make anymore, Charles. You gave up that right a long time ago.” 

“You’re just going to sit there and let him talk to me like this?” Charles hisses, turning towards you in an attempt to find sympathy. His eyes are pleading, but there’s anger simmering beneath the surface. 

Your chest tightens as you meet his gaze, feeling the weight of everything that has been left unsaid between the three of you for so long. You take a deep breath, your voice soft but firm when you finally respond. “It’s time to let go, Charles.” Charles' face falls at your words, the weight of their finality hitting him hard. His lips part slightly as if he wants to argue, but no words come. The tension in the air is suffocating, each second stretching out painfully. Carlos remains silent, standing tall beside you, his hand subtly resting on your back for support. He knows this conversation is yours to finish. “It’s not about erasing you from Rafael’s life,” you continue, your voice steady though your heart is pounding in your chest. “It’s about doing what’s best for him. And right now, that means protecting him from the confusion and hurt that the fact that you were too much of a coward to choose him.” 

Charles takes a step back, the anger in his expression dimming into something more fragile. His eyes search yours, perhaps looking for a trace of the bond you once shared, but it’s clear that things have changed too much. Too much time has passed. “I’m not trying to hurt him,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I apologised countless of times, what more do you want from me? I am sorry, okay?” 

“Are you quite done?” Charles flinches at your sharp tone, the weight of your words settling heavily between the three of you. His gaze drops to the ground as if he’s searching for something to say, but nothing comes. Carlos stands steady beside you, his presence strong, comforting, even. “I am sorry, too, about it all.”  

You can feel Carlos’ confused stare on you, and Charles looks at you with the same expression as he asks, “You... do?” 

“I’m sorry that you were cheating on me from the start, I’m sorry you were too weak to stay faithful to me after we got married,” you continue, the words heavy but resolute as they fall from your lips. Charles' expression shifts, a mixture of guilt and pain crossing his face. Carlos’ hand tightens slightly on your back, offering silent support as you finally lay bare what you’ve held inside for so long. “I’m sorry I ignored it for as long as I did, and I’m sorry that I ever found out.” Charles’ face hardens, his eyes clouded with guilt and perhaps a hint of defensiveness as your words hit him. The weight of what you're saying seems to pull him down, and he takes a deep breath as if trying to absorb the impact. He opens his mouth to speak, but you cut him off, not willing to let this moment slip away before you say everything that’s been weighing on your heart. “I’m sorry I ever found out about the lies, but most of all, I’m sorry for Rafael. He deserved better, he deserved a father who was present and loved him without conditions,” you say, your eyes locking with Charles’. “You weren’t there, Charles, you weren’t there before Rafael, and you weren’t going to be there after him. So, I suppose what I’m not sorry for is falling in love with a man who was courageous enough to fill that role for both me and him.” Charles’ lips part as if to argue, but no words form. His eyes betray the guilt and regret he’s been carrying, but there’s nothing left for him to say. He knows it. You know it. Even the mechanics and people around you who have stopped what they are doing to watch this whole thing go down know it. “Finally, I’m sorry that you felt the need and audacity to come down here, now not only have you ruined our marriage, but you’ve also ruined my day-off which I intended to spend with my boyfriend, and our son.” 

Charles flinches at your final words, his face crumpling under the weight of it all. The sting of your truth, laid bare for everyone to hear, leaves him speechless. His bravado has completely evaporated, replaced by a hollow sense of regret and defeat. He opens his mouth as if to respond but quickly closes it, realizing there’s nothing he can say that will undo the damage he caused, the pain he inflicted, or the years he lost. His eyes flicker to Carlos, who stands steady, unmoved by Charles’ turmoil. There’s no room for pity here. “I—” Charles begins but stops as Carlos raises his hand.  

“I think you’ve said enough,” his voice lacks all sympathy for his old friend, his old teammate, “it’s best you should go before you distress my girlfriend, or my son any further.  

Charles’ eyes widen slightly at Carlos’ words, the final blow landing hard. He looks as if he’s been physically struck, his shoulders slumping as any remaining fight drains from him. His gaze flickers between you and Carlos, searching for something—anything—but finding no redemption, no sympathy. There’s nothing left to say. 

He swallows hard, his lips pressed into a tight line, before finally nodding in a reluctant acceptance. “Fine,” he mutters, his voice barely audible. He turns on his heel, walking away with slow, defeated steps. The tension that had gripped the air slowly begins to dissipate as he disappears into the distance, leaving only the echoes of his footsteps behind. 

Carlos turns to you, his hand still resting on your back, but now it’s a comforting gesture rather than a protective one. His expression softens as he searches your face. “Are you okay?” he asks gently. 

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of everything that’s just happened, but also a sense of relief. “I think so,” you reply, your voice steady despite the emotional whirlwind you’ve just gone through. “It needed to happen.” 

Carlos nods, his thumb brushing soothingly against your back. “He’s not going to ruin this for us. Not today, not ever.” 

You smile faintly, grateful for his support. “No, he’s not. He’s gone now, and I’m finally free of it all.” 

“We’re free of him,” Carlos adds, a reassuring strength in his voice. “You, me, and Rafael. That’s what matters.” 

“Just promise me you’ll be careful on the track today,” you plead, chin resting on his chest as you look up to him.  

Carlos chuckles softly, his warm smile easing the tension that still lingers. “I promise,” he says, his voice light but sincere. He tilts his head, giving you a playful wink. “But you know me, I can’t drive too carefully. It's in my nature to push the limits a bit.” 

You roll your eyes with a small laugh, but your heart flutters slightly at the thought of him racing. It’s something you’ve grown used to, but there’s always that edge of worry. "Just... don’t make me regret asking," you tease, though the concern in your voice is real. 

Carlos leans down, brushing his lips gently against your forehead, the gesture filled with tenderness. "I’ll come back to you both, safe and sound," he whispers softly, his forehead resting against yours for a brief moment. "Always." 

You smile, feeling reassured by his words, and you give him a small nod. "Alright. Go show them what you’re made of, then." 

As Carlos pulls away, you can see the familiar spark in his eyes, the passion and excitement that he always carries before a race. He gives your hand one last squeeze before turning to head toward the car. You watch him for a moment, taking in the sight of him—confident, composed, and ready for whatever comes next. Just before he reaches the garage doors, he turns back and flashes you that signature grin that always makes your heart skip a beat. “For you and Rafael,” he calls out. Your smile widens as you watch him go, knowing that no matter what happens on the track today, you’ll always have each other. 

It’s not hard for you to find Rafael when you head back to the garage yourself. He’s completely engrossed in conversation with one of Carlos' engineers, pointing out different tools and parts of the car with wide-eyed fascination. His little hands gesture excitedly, and the engineer listens with a warm smile, clearly amused by Rafael’s enthusiasm. Carlos stands off to the side, leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed, watching his son with a look of pure affection and pride. His eyes sparkle as he takes in the sight of Rafael’s excitement, and there’s a certain softness to his expression that makes your heart swell. 

You walk over, standing beside Carlos, who doesn’t take his eyes off Rafael but greets you with a small grin. “He’s already talking like he’s part of the team,” Carlos says quietly, his voice filled with pride. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s taking over the pit crew in a few years.” 

You chuckle softly, watching Rafael explain something animatedly, his little voice echoing through the garage. “He’s got your passion,” you say, leaning into Carlos slightly, feeling the warmth of his presence. 

Carlos hums in agreement, his arm slipping around your waist. “Maybe,” he says, his tone affectionate, “but the way he talks about everything… that’s all you. He’s got your curiosity, your heart, so, all my favourite parts of you.” 

“My boyfriend the charmer,” you mumble as you lightly hit him on his chest.

Carlos chuckles, catching your hand gently against his chest before pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “Just telling the truth,” he murmurs, his eyes twinkling as he holds your gaze for a moment longer. “You deserve all the charm in the world.” 

You roll your eyes playfully, though you can’t hide the smile tugging at your lips. “You’re lucky you’re good at this, or I might think you’re just trying to get out of bath time for the next few days.” 

Carlos laughs, his warm, deep voice sending a wave of comfort through you. “I’d never do that. Bath time is part of the job.” He leans in slightly, lowering his voice with a mischievous grin. “But if I do this race right, maybe we can negotiate something.” 

You raise an eyebrow, feigning suspicion, but you can’t help the flutter in your chest at the way he always manages to make you feel light and cared for, even in the most mundane moments. “Alright, we’ll see how you perform today,” you tease back “if you win, I’ll let you put a baby in me, how about that?” 

Carlos freezes for a moment, his eyes widening in surprise before a slow, playful grin spreads across his face. “You’re serious?” he asks, his voice filled with both excitement and disbelief. 

You nod, biting your lip, unable to hide your own smile. “If you win today, we can start thinking about it.” 

Carlos lets out a short laugh, running a hand through his hair as if trying to process what you just said. “Well, I’ve never been more motivated to win a race in my life,” he says, his eyes gleaming with a new intensity. 

You chuckle, your heart racing at the look on his face. "Just make sure you’re focused on the track and not… well, other things." 

“Oh, I’ll be focused,” Carlos says, stepping closer and lowering his voice. “But now, I’ve got the best reason in the world to win.” He leans in, brushing his lips against your ear. “For you, and for giving Rafael a baby sister or a brother.” Your breath catches at the sincerity in his voice, and as he pulls back, he flashes you that charming grin again before heading off toward the car. You watch him go, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness settle in your chest. 

Eventually going behind the barriers and watching the race is harder than you’ve expected, you realise. As the laps go by, you keep glancing at Rafael, who’s glued to the action, his eyes wide with admiration for his dad. You smile at the way he clutches his little racing helmet, a miniature version of Carlos’ gear, his excitement evident. It’s clear he’s living every moment of the race through his dad’s performance, just as you are. When Carlos is in the lead, you hold your breath, willing him to stay ahead. When he’s fighting for position, you’re on the edge of your seat, cheering him on with every ounce of energy you have. 

As the final laps approach, you glance at the clock and then at Rafael, who’s practically bouncing with excitement. You can tell he’s just as invested in the outcome as you are. You squeeze his hand, giving him an encouraging smile, and he returns it with a determined nod. 

When Carlos crosses the finish line, the roar of the crowd is deafening, and you let out a cheer of your own, tears of joy welling up in your eyes. You look down at Rafael, who’s jumping up and down, his face beaming with pride and excitement. “He did it!” you shout, lifting him up in your arms as you join in the celebration. 

Caco and a couple of the mechanics help you and Rafael to get to the barriers, weaving through the throng of celebrating fans and team members. As you approach the barriers, Rafael’s excitement is noticeable. His eyes are wide with wonder, and he clutches his mini helmet tightly, bouncing with every step. Caco, with his warm, reassuring smile, offers a few words of congratulations and gives Rafael a high-five. Carlos comes into view, his car parked in the parc fermé. His grin is infectious, and you can see the joy and relief in his eyes as he looks up at you and Rafael. The moment he gets out of the car, he’s enveloped by his team, but his gaze quickly finds you and Rafael. He finds his way to you after getting weighed and you can see him grab his cap before finally rushing towards you. Carlos scoops Rafael up into his arms, spinning him around as they both laugh, and then turns to you, his eyes shining with gratitude and affection. 

“Well, looks like we’ve got a baby sister or brother to start thinking about,” Carlos says with a wink, setting Rafael down so he can pull you a in for a kiss. 

You smile against his lips, feeling the warmth of his embrace and the joy of this moment. When you pull away, you look up at Carlos, your eyes sparkling with love and excitement. “We do, don’t we?” you say softly, your heart full as you take in the sight of your family together in this victorious moment. 

Rafael, still buzzing with excitement, tugs on Carlos’ sleeve, his little voice bubbling over with enthusiasm. “Papa, did you see me cheering? I was so loud!” 

Carlos laughs, his eyes crinkling with joy. “I heard you, buddy. You were the loudest cheerleader out there.” 

As the celebration continues around you, you feel a profound sense of contentment. The day’s events, the race, the emotions—everything has come together perfectly. You take a deep breath, savouring the feeling of being surrounded by the people you love most. 

Carlos pulls you close, wrapping his arms around both you and Rafael. “Thank you for everything today,” he murmurs, his voice filled with sincerity. “You’ve made this day even more special.” 

You rest your head on his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his embrace and the steady beat of his heart. “It’s been an incredible day,” you agree, looking out at the jubilant scene around you. “I wouldn’t have wanted to spend it with anyone else.” 

As you watch him savour the moments with your son before he needs to go for his interview and the podium celebrations, you realise just how lucky you are to have something that only happens every few lifetimes. 

[mywritersmind]

HI KIMI - KA12

summary : she loves to tease, he can’t help but blush.

listen up : not proofread! kinda hate it! totowolffdaughter!reader. really into the whole bosses daughter thing rn

word count :

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My weekend will always be good when I'm at the Paddock. But there’s one factor that may make it a bit more interesting. A dangerous factor that it’s tan, cute, with curly hair. The same factor that is completely off limits.

Kimi Antonelli walks into the garage as I sit in an engineer's seat, chewing gum and scrolling on my phone.

Most everyone is gone on break except for a few sticking around and talking about the cars. I spin around in the chair so I’m facing him, blowing a bubble with my gum and grinning, “Hi, Kimi.”

He walks up to me slowly, smirking. “Hey, Wolff.”

“How’s my favorite future driver, today?” I sit up straight as he shrugs, clearly liking my antics.

“Pretty good.” He sits across from me, “You?”

Before I can answer, I'm interrupted by my lovely father, yelling. “Y/n! Your mom wants you.” I pout at him as he eyes Kimi, “Now.”

I sigh dramatically and stand, “Duty calls.” I smile at Kimi, not missing the blush on his cheeks as I walk past my dad and into the hallway.

Kimi and I have known eachother forever, my dads obsessed with him, and he’s on the grid for next year. This means two things for my dad,

Mr. Toto Wolff will have someone to bandage his broken heart after Lewis.

He will have a permanent headache with me and Kimi around 24/7.

My dad loves Kimi, he loves him so much that he won’t let me get near the kid! As soon as puberty hit and Kimi started blushing at me, my dad vetoed even the thought of us.

But now we’re adults, and Kimi got hot.

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I do have another job then being a permanent fixture to annoy my father and flirt with Kimi. I’m interning with Mercedes (yeah i’m a nepo baby, cry about it.) I work with their socials (yes that’s why they’re so funny!)

I’m videoing Lewis talking to Kimi because apparently I'm the only one who can get Lewis to shoot a funny video. They let me enjoy my tiktok trend before Lewis and George are off in their cars.

I stand with my dad and Kimi, watching them go around for quali.

As soon as Lewis gets out in Q1 and my dad just stares at the screen, I tap Kimi and motion to the door.

We end up in hospitality with all the food, “Are you going to use me to piss off your dad, forever?” He grabs his plate and sits next to me, we both turn behind us to see the cars go around the track.

I shrug and sip my water, “Yes. But I don’t just mess with you to mess with him.” He raises a brow, “I do it because you blushing is hilarious and sorta cute.” He blushes at my words.

“You’re the worst.” He bites into his cookie, “And are probably gonna get me fired.”

I laugh, “Please, my dad would fire me before you!”

He sighs and rests his head against the chair, his curls falling into his face. We watch Alex spin but straighten himself out, both of us sighing. It’s weird to think that Kimi is going to be in one of those cars next year.

“Are you scared?” I face him, his head tilts to me, thinking about it.

“Not really. I’ve always known it’s dangerous but I'm moving up for a reason.” When my dad told me Kimi was getting the 2025 seat, I told him he was too young.

I would die if Kimi found out, but I have to watch all my friends, people who are like brothers to me, crash and take eachother out every week. So maybe I'm a little scared for him.

“You okay?” I realize i’ve been zoning out, So I nod and smile, “Ready to go back? Quali is almost over and i’m trying to get the team to like m-” My eyes are pulled away from him as I see the familiar black and teal car go into the gravel.

“It’s over, now, actually.” We both cringe at George ending quali, “Congratulations Lando.”

“Do not go drool all over him, Wolff.” we start to make our way back, turning to Kimi so i’m walking backwards.

“Kimi Antonelli! Are you jealous?” He doesn’t find his amusing.

“I’m going to find Ollie.” He rolls his eyes at my kissing noises.

“Have fun with your boyfriend!” He flips me off, “Talk about me!” He looks back, shooting me a look that makes my stomach flip.

“I always do.” His accent is smooth and easy.

“What?” He keeps walking away from me, “You always do what!? Talk about me? Have fun with the horsey haas!? Kimi!”

⋆｡‧˚⋆

The next day I follow the Dallas Cowboys cheerleaders around. They're crazy pretty and so talented in a way that’s different from all the drivers I'm constantly around.

I leave them be when Ollie drags me in front of the camera for F1 TV. Ollie and I grab coffee and look around for a bit before we find Kimi who’s holding a plate full of whipped cream.

“I’m getting flashbacks to your birthday.” I shake my head as we approach him, “We could always recreate it!” I reach for the plate but he pulls it away quickly. Damn drivers' reflexes.

“Hey, some people from the track are coming to my hotel and swimming tonight. Wanna join? My least favorite thing about America is the whole 21 thing. But sober fun is still fun!” Ollie claps his hands together, Kini and I nod before Kimi and I get called back into the Mercedes garage.

My dad eyes us, “Really Y/n?” I furrow my brows at him, this time I actually did nothing wrong! I sit with Carmen during the race, cringing as Lewis gets rolled back into the garage.

But George does great and I try hard not to laugh as I listen to his radio. George and Carmen are like my parents in Mercedes. Even though my actual parents are in Mercedes too.

Honestly the day goes by in a blur, I avoid the garage because Lewis did poorly and George did well. So the vibes are off and I make my way to Vcarb.

Except I get intercepted by Kimi and a cupcake. I take it suspiciously, “Poison?”

“You’ll have to find out.” He deadpans as we walk slowly. Suddenly I'm not in a rush to congratulate Liam.

The cupcake is very good and not poisonous. I groan, tilting my head back, “Fuck, K, I could kiss you!”

He stays quiet as I finish my cupcake. When I look at him he’s looking away with an odd expression on his face, “Relax Antonelli, I promise I won’t kiss you.”

He bites back a smile, “Don’t make promises neither of us want you to keep.” This is unusual. Kimi doesn’t usually flirt back. He’ll make a remark or two but the austin air must be doing something to him.

It makes me feel weird and I like it.

Liam rounds the corner with a smile on his face. I snap out of focusing on Kimi and hug Liam quickly, “Ew. You’re gross. But congratulations!”

“Yeah you killed it mate.” Kimi fist bumps the blonde as he nods.

“Points and fucking with fernando! I’m proud.” Liam laughs and thanks us. But a weird part of me is still stuck on what Kimi said.

When he nudges me after Liam leaves, I flinch, “Shit, Wolff. You’ve been weird today.” He just walks away, I follow while running my hands over my face.

Fuck my life. What is happening!?

⋆｡‧˚⋆

“Ollie!” I hug the tall brit as he raises a brow, “Yay!”

“Thought we were supposed to be dry tonight.”

I would say, Well I’m with Kimi tonight so i’m never dry. But even I am can control myself better than that.

I just shrug as Kimi takes over, “She had two shots.”

“A confidence booster!” I smile and take my towel from mimi, skipping over to the girls.

I don’t have many girl friends around the paddock, but I like this group and they seem to like me too. We all get into our swimsuits, going to the bathroom so my friend can braid her hair.

“Who’s the italian?” a new girl says. She’s Ollie’s friend, I think she knows Franco too.

Lia Block, my favorite F1 related woman ever, laughs, “Ask Y/n.”

“Shit. Are you two dating?”

“Uh… no.” I laugh awkwardly.

“Oh!” She frowns, “So… hooking up?”

I shake my head, “No, just friends! We’ve known eachother forever.”

“I think they’re made to be!” Lia wraps her arms around my shoulders, I can see her smiling in the mirror, “But Kimi is a shy idiot.”

“But he’s single?”

Lia laughs uncomfortably, “I think it’s time to swim!”

The water is freezing so I end up in the jacuzzi with Lia. I’m watching Kimi talk to his new girl, “He’s not flirting, you know.”

I dunk my head but she pulls me back up, “He can be!”

“No!” She shakes me, “You’re a big fat liar!”

“He has free will! I like to flirt with him, not be with him!” Her eyes narrow before Kimi jumps into the jacuzzi, splashing us.

Lia shakes her head and dives back in the pool, Kimi frowns at her, “What do I smell?”

I sink back into the water, suddenly feeling very aware of my every movement in my black bikini. “Yeah, like pool water.”

He sits on the step next to me, the water up to his neck as he warms up, “I’ve come to hide.” He floats closer towards me.

“Ollie bugging you?” I joke as he shakes his head.

“You told her I was single!”

“You are!”

He gives me a look. The type of look that makes me want him to say that he isn’t, and that I’m not either. “You could have lied.”

“And why would I do that?” His eyes meet mine and it’s that feeling again. He looks away, the blush on his cheeks not from the steam.

“Kimi!” The girl yells from the pool and he turns to me slowly.

“You did this.”

I scoff, “I did not! If you aren’t single then who will I flirt with.” I pout, joking as he moves his arm around me, touching the jacuzzi wall and not me.

I smirks a bit, “If I wasn’t single I'd be with you.”

I lean in, “When did you get so confident?”

“Quite recently actually!” I could have sworn his eyes flickered down to my lips, “I learned from the best.”

“You speak so highly of me, I'm honored.”

“You should hear my thoughts.” I narrow my eyes at him, trying not to look at his arms or past his chin at all.

“You’re playing with fire here, Antonelli.”

He tilts his head, “You play with me everyday.”

“This payback?”

“No. Just foreplay.” I almost choke. My cheeks going red as Kimis smile grows, “You look good blushing too.”

“Time to swim!” I hurry away and practically fall into the pool. I dunk my head, thinking about today.

Next week will be worse, we have plans for next week! Mexico is next week.

I will be ignoring him next week.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

He's My Man (Part 3)

Summary: Russell's returned and it appears that the reader's past employment problems are behind her. But when a shirtless Russell invites her into his home and their flirting rises to new levels, the reader will have to grapple with a new reality she doesn't know how to deal with. Russell Shaw might just be the first good guy after all...

Masterlist

Pairing: Russell Shaw x reader

Word Count: 3,500ish

Warnings: language, gun shot injury mention, smidge of angst, fluff

A/N: That ending though 👀

__________

The sun was shining high when you woke, streams of light filtering in through the large windows. You hummed as you sat up, Colter typing away at his laptop outside. There was no sign of Russell though, a frown forming on your face.

He hadn’t left already, had he? He’d promised to tell you what happened back home.

You quickly changed in Colter’s bedroom into your joggers and AC/DC shirt, deciding to try Russell’s gifts out. The bra felt amazing, especially after wearing the same dirty one for a few days in a row. Even the lilac underwear was softer than you expected. 

Outside you shrugged on one of Russell’s flannel’s, pouting when you saw his car was gone and yours was in it’s place.

“Morning,” said Colter, nodding towards where a cup of coffee laid waiting for you next to your chair.

“Hey,” you said, taking it without sitting. “I didn’t mean to sleep so late.”

“Not a problem. You haven’t been getting much lately.” You glanced around and noticed he was packed up for the most part, probably itching to get on the road. 

“You have a new case?” 

“Yeah. Oregon, not too far,” he said. He reached into his pocket, holding out your car keys. You wearily took them, Colter glancing over the top of your head. “I told him to stick around but he wanted to make sure it was ready for you.”

You raised an eyebrow, Colter shrugging.

“Apparently Russell has a place 45 minutes from here. Some cabin on a lake? I didn’t know he had a house. But uh, he hasn’t been there in awhile and he went on ahead to clean and stock up or something. He wants you to head up there so you can talk.”

“Oh. That’s…sweet.” You chugged back half your coffee, Colter eyeing you suspiciously. “What?”

“Nothing. Go have your talk.” You hummed, taking another sip. “You don’t owe him anything you know.”

“I know. We’re just friends.” Colter smirked. “You want to go down that road, Shaw? I can’t help but notice you and Reenie got that whole enemies to lovers vibe-”

“And that’s enough of that conversation,” he said, standing with a stretch. He reached into his pocket again, tossing you your phone. “Russell said it’s safe to carry again. Call if you ever need anything, Y/N.”

“Have I grown on you, Colter?” you teased. He rolled hie eyes as you handed him your empty mug. 

“Maybe. I’m working on the having friends thing.” 

“Well, you Shaw boys aren’t conventional but you’ve grown on me,” you said, opening your arms. “Come on. Let’s hug it out.”

“This is why I don’t do friends,” he half grumbled when he stepped into it, rubbing your back once more. “Hey and if you do think you want to try rewardist work, call me. We’ll talk, figure out a safe way for you to do this stuff.”

“What makes you think I won’t just go back home and do what I was before?” you asked. 

“Did you really want to do that crap again?” You frowned, shaking your head. He stepped back, pushing you towards the streamer. “That’s what I thought. Go pack. I’m sure Russell will be looking for you soon.”

One Hour Later

After leaving Colter with a promise to stay in touch, you arrived in a small town on the edges of a lake. It took a few minutes but your GPS eventually found the right road to head down. You had to question it when it told you that you’d arrived at your destination. The cabin Russell supposedly owned look more like a very expensive rustic mini-mansion some rich people would vacation to on the weekends.

Still, you pulled into the driveway and found Russell’s beat up car there. Cautiously you exited your car and went up the steps of the front porch, ringing the doorbell twice. A large wood door whipped open and you’d gotten your wish.

There was Russell before you. Damp hair slicked back, a few water droplets trailing down his broad chest and disappearing into the waist band of his navy sweatpants. You could see his tattoos scattered across his arm, a few on his wrist and thumbs and good god, how long had you been ogling his body?

Your head snapped up, Russell cockily leaning with one arm up against the doorframe wearing a satisfied smirk.

“Oh, please. Look all you want, babe.” You huffed and stormed past him, fighting the urge to turn around and see what his ass looked like in this skinny little joggers he had on. Nope. You had more self-control than that.

“You wish,” you said, surprised at the mixture of modern and rustic touches inside. “So you squatting here, Shaw?”

“I wish,” he chuckled, walking past you into the kitchen area, the smell of sandalwood and vanilla luring you to follow after. “I picked this place up after I got out of the military for cheap. Been renovating it room by room for the past decade.”

“Marble countertops?” you asked, rattling your knuckles against the white and silver veined surface. Russell leaned against the island, his biceps flexing with the movement. “I thought you said you aren’t made of money.”

“Maybe I want you to like me for me and not my wallet,” he said, looking at you through his eyelashes. “You know how much that visit to that little boutique set me back?”

“Oh, I think you can afford it,” you said, smiling as you slipped behind him, ruffling his damp strands. “Next time you want to buy me lingerie, just be a big boy and say so.”

“Here I was being thoughtful with no ulterior motives,” he said, standing and putting a hand to his chest. He frowned, closing his eyes in feigned pain. “I’m hurt, Y/N.”

“You can be thoughtful and at the same time admit you’d like to see what your choices look like.” He dropped his hand smiled.

“I really did buy them without expecting anything. I was there and thought a girl like you deserves something nice in her fucked up life.”

“I know, Russell,” you said quietly, offering him a smile. “I honestly do appreciate it.”

He nodded before going to his fridge and taking out a pair of waters, setting one on the counter near you. “You’re welcome. And if you were ever so inclined to want to show off my fashion choices, I suppose I could suffer through.”

“You’d really take that hit for the team wouldn’t you,” you teased. He hummed, crossing his arms.

“It’s a heavy burden but one I’m willing to bear.” You rolled your eyes and laughed quietly, slipping away before you got any closer to a half-naked Russell. 

You pretended to meander around the house, enjoying the openness compared to Colter’s airstreamer. A large fireplace sat in the corner and you could see through the glass doors to the back covered porch that another sat out there as well. 

“I made up the guest room.” You spun around, Russell pointing down a hallway. “Fresh sheets. Towels. I thought maybe you’d want to take a real shower and relax before you decide your next move.”

“Next move, huh.” You crossed your arms, looking out the back windows as dark clouds rolled in over the lake. “That your subtle way of saying I can’t go back home?”

Russell’s smile fell, quickly replaced with a neutral non-chalence you saw right through. He padded across the hardwoods over to your side, watching the clouds with you.

“I meant what I said last night. You’re safe. No one, and I mean no one, will ever come after you again. Go freshen up and we’ll talk after. I promise.”

“Fine. But only because Colter’s shower sucks.” You knew Russell was holding back something but you’d let it slide for the moment. A hot, long shower sounded amazing.

Forty minutes later you exited the guest suite with freshly washed hair, smooth legs and clean clothes. Alright, maybe they were Russell’s clothes he’d laid out on the bed for you but you weren’t complaining. 

“How was it?” he asked when you found him on the covered back porch, a hard rain coming down.

“I hate to sound like a girl but that was so much nicer than your brother’s tiny ass shower stall,” you said, enjoying the cool air on your flush skin. Russell refrained from saying anything about the black Stones shirt you had put on or the way you were drowning in his sweatpants. You ran your fingers through your hair, Russell watching you try to tame the mess it’d become. “You didn’t happen to pick up any hair ties or scrunchies when you clearly went to the store and got me stuff, did you?”

He reached into his pocket with a smile and a dark green scrunchie appeared on his wrist, your eyes wide. “Wait, really?”

“I’m smarter than I look,” he said. You nearly asked for it when you decided to turn around, presenting your back to him.

“Can you handle a messy bun?” you asked. A spark rang down your spine as he gathered up your hair on top of your head, gently pulling it together and securing it. You patted it when he finished, Russell taking a bow to an imaginary crowd. You put a hand on your hip, shaking your head. “Okay, how the hell do you know how to do that?”

“I could tell you but I’d have to kill you.” You rolled your eyes. “I learned it at special ops school.”

“Russ.” He laughed, taking a seat on the outdoor couch, arm over the back of it.

“I have a kid sister. I used to do her hair and shit when she was little.” You grinned, Russell holding up a finger.

“Don’t. Say-”

“Aw. What a good big brother you are,” you teased, sitting down next to him. Russell’s eyes glinted with a retort but he settled for letting his fingertips dance over your bare neck. Your breath hitched, Russell, cocking his head. “I can’t concentrate on what we need to talk about if you’re going to keep doing that.”

“Does that mean you don’t like it?” he asked, his body inviting you to tuck itself in right under that open arm. He grazed his fingers oh so lightly over your neck again and fuck, you wished he’d just grab hold and smash your lips to his already.

“You think just cause you’re sweet and thoughtful and hot and save a girl, you’ll win her over with your horrible flirting, just like that?” He leaned in close, so close you felt the heat radiating off his breath.

“I already won and she knows it. She just likes making me chase her.” You shivered when he thumbed over the back of your neck, a cocky smile on his face. “And she is a woman worth chasing so I will as long as she wants me to.”

You leaned in just when he pulled away and stood up, taking a seat in the chair opposite you with a big, stupid, cocky as fuck, smile on his face. 

“Fucker,” you growled. Russell only smiled harder. “You’re gonna pay for that.”

“Oh, I pray I do,” he said, putting his hands behind his head, licking his lips. Your eye twitched, Russell chuckling deeply. “That’s my little queen of darkness I adore.”

“We will continue this conversation later,” you said, cutting him off. Russell nodded, taking the zip up from nearby and unfortunately tugging it on over his bare chest.

“So,” he said, shoving his hands in the pockets, taking a deep breath. “You want to know what happened after you left.”

“That’d be nice, yes.” Russell pursed his lips, turning his head towards the downpour. “Russell. Come on.”

“I know you want details but I’m sorry, that’s not happening.” Your jaw dropped as he held up his hands. “You have had enough violence and death in your life. Now, I will answer your questions but I will use my discretion. You do not need…you don’t need that crap anymore. Please.”

Russell dropped his hand, leaning his elbows against his knees. When he looked up, his green eyes were somber and your heart did that flipping thing again.

“Are they all dead? The whole crew?” you asked quietly. He nodded. “That was like twenty five guys.”

“...Technically, they killed each other off. That’s why you didn’t hear about it in the news. Police are keeping it quiet.” 

“How…you tricked them?” you asked. He nodded again. “You’re sure all of them-”

“Every last one. Sides were drawn. Elpine and some of his crew got involved too, killed in the crossfire. There’s no mafia left there. No one will ever look for you again if you decide to go back.”

“If?” you asked. Russell shrugged.

“You were forced to do a job you didn’t want. You don’t want to patch up scummy guys off the street. You get to live the life you want to now. You can do that back in Virginia…or you can do a clean slate. Start over somewhere new.”

“You mean here. Stay here with you,” you said. You stood up, going to the railing, a cold breeze hitting you.

“This is a safe place and you can take as long as you need to figure out what you want to do.” You felt him behind you, his hands settling on your arms. “I have enough. I don’t want to be a private contractor forever. I am more than happy to walk away and start fresh myself.”

“Russell, you are asking a lot.”

“No I’m not.” You frowned, closing your eyes. “Despite…I’m not asking you to pick me. I’m not that crazy. I know we’re still figuring each other out. I’m asking you to pick yourself. I’m asking you to trust now that I am not like those people you worked with. You never have to pick me if that’s what you want and there are no stings attached. Ever. Just don’t go back there. Start over somewhere where life will be kind to you.”

He rubbed your arms once before you felt him move away. You glanced back over your shoulder, Russell going to the fireplace and squatting down in front of it. A moment later, flames appeared and he was tossing a few logs from nearby inside.

“Russell.” He hummed, adjusting a large log with a sharp poker. He kept his back to you for a long beat, slowly rising and setting the poker aside. When he finally looked at you, his face was neutral, void of any signs of how he actually felt. You fidgeted, tugging down the hem of your shirt awkwardly. “Put aside the flirting. You and me…it’s not going to work out.”

“You’re sure about that, are you?” You scoffed, Russell holding up his hands. 

You stormed over to him, stabbing a finger in his firm chest. “I am not whatever you think I am. I’m not a damsel looking for her white knight to come save her. I didn’t ask you to take care of my problem. You decided to do that, not me. I don’t owe you anything.”

He slowly blinked, staring down with the tiniest hint of a smirk. 

“Why are you always fucking smiling?” you growled. 

“Well if you’re going to be the grumpy then I got to be the sunshine.”

“We’re not a fucking trope! I-I don’t need you. I don’t need you to buy me things. Or do things for me. Or offer to let me stay in this beautiful house. I’ve spent my whole life alone. There is no such thing as a good guy. All you want is in my fucking pants so let’s just fuck and get this fucking thing over with so I can go the fuck home.”

Russell’s eyebrows raised. He nodded, crossing his arms. “I’m not fucking you.”

“What? That’s…you’ve been flirting the second we met!” 

“Oh, we’re past the hookup stage. We do this, it’s cause we’re the real deal.”

“Insufferable,” you muttered, going inside, pacing back and forth in the family room. To your extreme annoyance, Russell didn’t follow you. He just sat out there next to his fireplace, watching the rain come down. He really wasn’t going to talk to you about this? He was going to ignore you?

You huffed, wandering throughout the house and finding it frustratingly gorgeous. While it certainly leaned masculine as did most rustic style homes single men lived it, it felt…cozy. There was a warmth to it, even in the large expanses, that you hadn’t felt since you were a child. It was built almost like a retreat, Russell’s safe place away from the world.

You sat down on the top set of the stairs, frowning with your head in your hands.

Was there such a thing as a good guy? No, Russell wanted you for sex. A quick fuck. Maybe a fuck buddy at most but that was it. Right? He was a single man in his forties. Ex-military and he still did contracted black ops work. He was a trained killer. A deadly weapon hidden under a boyish smile and pretty face. There was no way he was a good guy that actually wanted a normal life.

“Do you always talk to yourself?” Your head snapped up, Russell giving you an awkward little wave from the landing a few feet away. You groaned, wiping your face off when you felt the trickle of tears on your cheeks. Russell stepped up and stopped, sitting down a few steps below you, close enough to reach out and grab your hand. 

“I should go,” you said. Russell simply held out his open palm, your own hands now held in your lap.

“Whether I’m good or bad, I’ll leave that up to somebody else to decide. I don’t live my life in the black and white. But I can tell you if I only wanted to screw you, I would never have invited you to my home.” You stared down at your lap, closing your eyes when his callused thumb wiped under your eye, pushing away a rogue tear. “You ain’t a damsel. You’re my queen of darkness, remember?”

Your lip twitched up briefly, Russell letting out some satisfied little sound.

“I meant what I said earlier. Stay. Rest. Figure out your next move on your own time. If me being here complicates that, I can duck out.”

“No.” You grasped his wrist, flicking open your eyes. His palm felt so hot to the touch, your heart skipping when he grazed your skin. “Stay here.”

“Okay then,” he said. He stood, leaning over and kissing your forehead. Then he was moving down the steps, whistling a peppy tune. “I’m going to make us some grilled cheese and tomato soup. Love me some grilled cheese.”

“Wait!” you called, following him down the stairs. Russell spun around at the bottom, smiling up at you. “Why…I…I-I don’t understand. You’re really just going to let me stay here? Without committing to anything?”

His face fell, brow furrowing. “You’re really starting to scare me, Y/N. When’s the last time there was someone decent in your life?”

“I’m not sure anymore,” you said quietly. “The idea of someone like you being so kind crosses a lot of wires in my head.”

“That’s why you keep freaking out when I’m not a dick and give you space.” You nodded, fidgeting with the bottom of your shirt again. He smiled, reaching up, offering his hand again. You let yours slip into it, Russell lacing your fingers together. “Well, I ain’t like other men, sweetheart. I promise you that.”

“Why me?” you asked, taking a step down, putting you at eye level with him. “I mean, why wouldn’t you want someone normal?”

“A normal girl sounds boring. Now queen of darkness? That sounds like a woman that’s badass enough to put up with me. Let’s stop freaking out, go make lunch, and let me try to help you what you want to do, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Perfect.” He pecked a kiss on your cheek, pulling you along after him. “So. Has a man ever cooked for you?”

You shook your head, Russell frowning. You yelped when he picked you up and sat you on the kitchen counter, caging you in with his muscular arms on either side.

“Alright then Y/N Y/L/N. I’m about to make you the best goddamn lunch of your life.” Before he could move, you wrapped your legs tight around his waist, keeping him so, so close. Russell’s gaze turned heated, eyes darkening. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” you breathed out, Russell leaning in close.

“Don’t take me unless you plan on keeping me. Based on our previous conversation, we are not there.” Slowly, you unhooked your legs, Russell straightening, looking you up and down, eyes no less dark.

“Russ?” He stared at you, licking his lips.

“Fuck it.”

And then he slammed his lips to yours, stealing your breath away in the goddamn best kiss of your life.

_________

A/N: Read Part 4 here!

[bryngmemoney]

✁FASHION FLIRT✃

Megumi Fushiguro x Reader

⭑story masterlist link

tw: none

Writing in between messages!!

🪡Chapter Twelve: Reminded me of You

You leaned against the table, watching a few other people walk in and out of the room. Although it was after class hours, there had more people in the studio than usual, though thankfully nothing too overcrowded.

“Hey, here’s your stuff, i’m sorry we had to meet up kinda late again,” Ino spoke as he handed you the folded shirt and pants. “Thanks, and don’t worry about it, I was gonna come in to work on Yuki’s dress anyway.” You fixed the outfit into your bag, and began walking off, Ino following behind. “Good luck on your project Ino, from what you’ve showed me I think it’s going really well.” From the short time you’ve been around him, you could tell Ino was very optimistic and social. When you met with him he’d usually go off talking about whatever to keep the conversation going, and it always seemed to work.

“Thanks y/n, I really hope so, though I think i’m just gonna go get something from the shop outside my dorm building and sleep. I’m done for today. What about you?” You two continued making your way out as you talked. “I’m visiting my friend, the one that’s helping out Yuji with his project.” From past conversations you had found out that Ino knew Yuji, and apparently Megumi too.

“Oh cool, you gonna go help them too?” “No, just bringing them some stuff from the store, Nobara sent me the location.” “Oh nice, well if we’re heading the same way I don’t mind walking around with you.” “Sure that’s fine.”

Unlucky for you, once you bought everything you wanted, two large bottle sodas and a couple bags of chips and candies, the cashier had told you they had just run out of bags. You tried your best to carry it, putting a couple in your bag, but not much could fit and the sodas were becoming uncomfortable to carry. You started considering just leaving some of it behind. “Need help?” You turned your head to see Ino, who only had a bag of chips in his hand. “If we’re going to the same building I can help you drop it off.” “um well.. that would be helpful, yeah.”

Yuji opened the door, only to find you and Ino, both with hands full. “Hey Yuji, surprise!”

“Y/n, Ino what are you guys doing here?” “I’m just helping out, but it’s nice to see you man!”

“Who is it?” you heard an all too familiar voice ask from behind Yuji. He whipped his head around to face Megumi who had shown up beside him. “Hey Megumi, long time no see!” Ino announced.

“Hey Megumi!”

Megumi got up from the small living area and walked to the kitchen island in the shared dorm between Junpei and his roommate, who was currently out somewhere. He saw Yuji excitedly grab a bag of chips and rip it open. Junpei leaning against the counter laughing at his behaviour.

“Megumi, I got you something, I remember you said you liked things that pair with ginger, and I saw these and thought of you, I don’t know if you’ll like it but there’s other chips if you don’t want them.” You held up a bag of some type of Lay’s flavored chips with ginger, he had never really seen them before, but just the fact that you had bought them with him in mind was enough for him to give them a try. “Thanks, these are actually my favorite.” A white lie never hurt anyone. Yuji spoke up, “Really I thought that-” “These are my favorite.”

Author’s Note: when i was writing the chip part i had lays wasabi and ginger chips in mind, they’re low key good ngl i recommend if anyone likes those flavors

hope you guys enjoyed!

Taglist below, feel free to comment or dm me to be added!!

TAGLIST

@iridescentrays @gumimegz @maya-maya-56 @mamafly @lunavixia @swissy23 @coltsgf @m00nglad3-mp3 @etsukis @xosren @qtnfer @oengleli @harek89 @y-sabell-a @morgyyyyyyy @getolvr @liliumaraneae @k3lbade @aiieera @dancedancey @get0sfav @chuyasthighs0 @hyssoplampflickers @kpopanimen @sad-darksoul @vivi-loves-penguins @kasumitenbaz @talkingsperm @nymphsdomain @inlovewithlondonn @rzcnlb @enchantingkitty @fuyuzemi @lysaray @ni-ki-ismyluv

[piratefishmama]

Finders Givers | Part 2

“STEVEN MARION HARRINGTON.”

“Not my middle name.” Although Robin had made several valiant attempts in guessing it every time she needed to burst into his office all guns blazing. Which was unfortunately… often. She still hadn’t managed to crack it.

He didn’t actually have a middle name. He wasn’t going to tell her that though, this was funnier.

She slapped a sheaf of papers down onto his desk, a brief flick of the first page told him they were call logs and transcripts “What did you DO?! Claudia’s been getting calls all morning asking about renovations?”

“Okay, so, in my defence. It was Nancy’s idea.” That was his whole defence. It was Nancy’s idea. His idea had been worse.

“Explain.”

“You know, most people in my position don’t have to explain themselves to people who work for them, their people just respect them, and do as they say without argument.” He mused, mostly to himself, but he could see the woman’s eye twitch in annoyance and so he sighed in defeat, it’d only wind up with him having those papers whapped around his head. “Remember the wallet I found?”

“The one that was bumming you out?”

“Yeah! Well, when I went out for a walk, I found the guys work address and—”

“You know we have guys who do that sort of shit for us, right? You can’t be stalking people, Dingus, what the fuck?” That sheaf of papers was dangerously close to hitting him. She’d picked them back up an everything.

“Just listen! He was at work, I didn’t talk to him or anything I’m not stupid, but... his manager made this girl cry so he just decked him, laid him out, one punch an he was down, then he just quit his job, right there, shit was spectacular.” Steve could appreciate a good bit of muscle, could appreciate a scrapper. Plus the guy was hot so, that helped. “Doesn’t look like his photo either, he’s got so much hair, Robs, it’s... wow, he’s just—”

“Ew, I don’t wanna hear about your crush on some random guy, what’s this got to do with these renovations Claudia’s being spammed over?”

“Okay so, guy lost his job.”

“Quit, quit his job.”

“Defending a ladies honour, something I thought you’d appreciate.” She raised a single unimpressed brow “but, I... I was gonna just send him rent money for a few months, y’know, cover a few bills, charity!” His heart was in the right place, his head however, his head was in space.

“That’s not charity that’s stupidity, but go on.”

“That’s what Nance said! Apparently it’d be suspicious if I were to be found sending large amounts of cash in nondescript envelopes to an apartment block notorious for drug activity, so she suggested that since I’m already buying that bar nearby, it’d look less conspicuous if I just... bought the building the guy lives in and claim I was developing it, make it seem like I have an interest in building up local problem areas.” She frowned, silent in her thoughts as she processed.

“... And what about the rent forgiveness?”

“I was gonna pay for his rent, might as well just not have him pay rent, y’know? An it’s gotta be building wide or there’ll be questions, like why is he so special, it’d put him under scrutiny. So Nance suggested putting a stop on rent as we ‘renovate’ as a sort of, we’re disrupting your life so here’s a break for you kinda deal.” Honestly Nancy really was a life saver, he really ought to give her a raise, he’d have been fucked over years ago had he not pulled her into the fold.

“So that means we’re actually going to have to renovate this block then?”

“I mean—”

“Were going to have to renovate this block, Steve. We can’t just forgive the rent forever, that’s bonkers, that would raise eyebrows, and we can’t afford eyebrows being raised at us right now. So you’re going to have to have professionals go in and survey the apartments inside for renovations.” This was now an actual thing he’d have to do.

“Ah well, gives me something to occupy my time with. Also I was thinking—”

“Never a good sign”

“Shut up, I was thinking of putting Argyle in there as a plant, like... the drugs being peddled out of that block are just trash, at least we could get a solid dealer in there and get Argyle out of the Wheelers basement.” He’d only been staying there because Joyce didn’t have a basement and Jonathan didn’t have room for him.

He was Jonathan's friend, and Jonathan came with Nancy, Steve didn’t have any reason to help him out. Now he did! And that reason was getting those poor people better weed.

“Are you not worried that the existing dealers will start shit with him for moving into their turf?”

“They touch him they deal with Hargrove, he's been particularly irritable lately, anything could set him off, pretty sure he’d be jazzed to break a few legs.” Release some of that pent up rage he seemed so good at bottling up in tiny easily burstable bottles. “One visit from that nut job and they’ll settle right down.”

He didn’t like Hargrove, but he had to admit the guy was a useful enforcer. Indebted to Steve too after Jane had taken a nail imbedded baseball bat to his old employers head in a bid to help her friend Max escape the debt her stepdad had racked up with him. Billy had also been freed, being Max’s step brother, left unmoored and in danger of a jail cell.

Steve had taken them both in after getting rid of Creels corpse. It was Hopper’s idea. Billy wouldn’t have survived in jail, too many enemies in there.

“It only takes one hit to hurt Argyle beyond repair though, maybe get rid of the dealers in there already, then give Argyle one of the apartments.”

“See you’re already on board!” And there was the whack round the head with the papers, his sharp objection going ignored.

“Fine, I’m on board, but only because it’s Nancy’s idea.” She was retreating as she spoke “Yours was a trash fire, like, not just one of those little oil barrel fires I mean like a whole dumpster fire. Argyle stays out until it’s safe though, I mean it Steve, I will get Hopper involved.” She opened the door, ready to go.

“You can’t threaten me with my own Chief of Police! That’s so mean!”

“Watch me, dingus. Also you have two people downstairs from your little block purchase wanting more information, do you wanna deal with them or should I?”

“Do you think I could actually spin a good idea to explain this that won’t get immediately reworked by either you or Nance?” She paused, a thoughtful expression on her face that answered his question more than any actual answer would have. “Exactly, you deal with it, you’re better at timelines an stuff anyway.” He was more the big idea guy.

“Yeah but you’re better at people.” It was true, Steve was more the people person out of the two of them. “Fine, I’ll deal with it, and I’ll ask Nance to find some decent contractors to do the work for us. Maybe… drop into my office in like, ten minutes? Considering you let your dick lead you to places I wouldn’t even go with a gun, you should at least make an appearance for these people whose lives you’ve interrupted.”

“Ngghhh fine. Fine. I’ll be there in ten.” And she was out with a tiny salute as her goodbye.  

Part 4

[sashaisready]

This Must Be The Place: Chapter 2 -Feet on the ground

Biker!Bucky x Femme Reader

Back at your beloved late grandmother's home to pack up her house, you have a run-in with the town's biker gang 'The Howling Commandos' and find yourself entangled with the metal armed President.

Series Masterlist

No specific warnings in this one (apart from Biker!Bucky of course). Some brief references to grief. Sorry it's on the shorter side, just need to set up our story. Thanks to all who have reblogged/commented, it means a lot!

You sipped your drink as you told Bucky all about granny and moving into her house. He nodded solemnly as he leaned on the bar and listened intently, the depth of his attention surprising you. You didn’t expect him to be so easy to talk to. Behind you, Wanda and Vis were very obviously pretending to be chatting, while clearly eavesdropping on your conversation.

“Oh yeah, she was a nice lady. I’m sorry for your loss,” Bucky told you with sincerity after you’d finish the whole tale. “She was a tough old gal”.

“Uh, thanks,” you replied quietly, not realising until now what an emotional gut punch it still was to talk about her. “And yeah…she was”.

You cleared your throat and changed the subject. You cocked an eyebrow and looked at him curiously.

“So…what’s your deal?”

He grinned, “What’d you mean?”

“You know,” you pointed to his kutte, “all this. You’re one of the top guys, I guess? I’m sorry, I don’t really know the lingo…”

“I’m the President” he smirked and pointed to one of his patches, clearly a little amused by your ignorance.

You peered over at the fabric square. “Mm. So, what, you drive around town on your bikes causing mayhem and throwing darts at women’s butts?”

“Something like that, yeah,” he laughed. “But mostly we’re here, or at the auto shop across town”.

“Busy, busy” you teased. “I’m sure its all legitimate and above board…”

He winked. God, what a dangerous wink. You instinctively knew that wink had ruined lives.

You both exchanged a small smile.

“You’re not afraid of me, huh?” Bucky teased.

“Should I be?” you boldly shot back.

He grinned. “No. But a lot of people are”.

“Well…your aesthetics aren’t super warm and fuzzy”.

“No…guess not”.

You continued to sip your drink as you tried to fight off the nagging voice telling you to back off. God only knows what he gets up to when he’s not at the bar or fixing cars or at whatever other business fronts they had. You didn’t need another dangerous, no-good man in your life…You were only supposed to sort the house out, live quietly for a little while and then leave. Not get embroiled with the locals, and certainly not with the President of a probably criminal motorcycle club…

…and yet…

“So…you working while you’re staying here?” he asked curiously.

“Mm. Maybe. I have some savings. And thankfully the mortgage at my grandmother’s place is paid off, so at least that’s one less thing. But I might get something part time to keep the lights on”.

Bucky smirked and held his arm up to the bar behind you. “Work here”.

You laughed. “What? Yeah, good one…”

“I’m serious. You need extra cash. We apparently need some help here after you tore my poor bartender apart. So why not? Sounds like you have some experience…”

“I do yeah…but…”

“But what?” he asked, a hint of interrogation in his voice.

“Well, I was thinking more like a coffee shop or delivering pamphlets or something. Not working nights with drunks…”

“Oh, but we’re friendly drunks. Plus, the regulars tip well,” he pushed. “You can spend the days working on the house and then do a few evenings here until you move on. It’s perfect”.

You frowned. It was pretty perfect, actually. You thought about protesting, but as you looked back at Bucky’s expression you immediately understood that this was someone who was very used to getting his own way.

“You’re not gonna drop this, are you?” you asked.

“Nope” he responded, popping the ‘p’ and shaking his head.

You sighed, chewing your lip with hesitation.

“Will your club mind? I mean…they don’t know me. All they know is I yelled at one of them”.

“Eh. Everyone yells at Parker”, he shrugged. “You’ll fit right in”.

You frowned, then looked back at him suspiciously.

“But…Why are you doing this? You barely know me. I might be a serial killer for all you know…”

He chuckled. “Well, I’ve met a lot of bad guys in my time, Sugar, and trust me, you get pretty good at figuring people out. Plus, I get it, grief is tough, and your grandmother lived here all her life and was a big part of the community. And you’re her family. We do look out for one another here; this is our home after all”.

You blinked in surprise, not expecting that answer. Your sceptical side half believed he just wanted to get in your pants, but he sounded sincere regardless.

You looked over at his group who were laughing and drinking jovially, then across the room at the wide range of clientele. You’d certainly had worked at worse places.

Sighing, you turned back to Bucky. “Well…fine. Let’s do it. But I’m not wearing booty shorts or anything ridiculous for a uniform”.

This coaxed a belly laugh from him. “No…only the male bartenders wear those,” he quipped. “Jeans and tees are fine. Maybe a flannel if you really wanna mix it up”.

You nodded. “Okay, I can do that”.

He smiled back at you sweetly, but a hint of something edgier lay beneath. The way he eyed you made you feel…exposed. Like you were a doe caught in the crosshairs. It wasn’t unpleasant, no, in fact it made your lower belly surge, sending a wave of butterflies through you.

“Welcome aboard, Sugar” he grinned.

You smiled back, once again knowing full well you were treading into dangerous territory...but unable to stop yourself.

[anthurak]

Why I think Grimm!Summer is Going to Happen

So over the last few months I’ve seen a bit of discussion and theorizing on the prospect of Grimm!Summer actually being a red-herring for an even bigger reveal, such as Summer having actually joined Salem and is working with her entirely willingly. With what seems to be a decent chunk of this idea borne out of the idea that Ruby just straight up figuring out the Grimm!Summer twist in Volume 8 feeling like an ‘obvious’ setup for a fakeout.

The thing is (and this is rather ironic given that I was pushing the idea of Grimm!Summer being a red-herring pre-Volume 9), I think we’re not only getting Grimm-Hybrid Summer, but also that Ruby’s big ‘That’s what happened to Mom…’ theory in Volume 8 is actually basically LEGIT. And furthermore, that the writers have actually kind of ‘locked in’ Grimm!Summer to the point that doing some kind of fake-out would significantly undermine and even outright contradict some major plot points in Volume 8.

But to begin, let’s talk about “That’s what happened to Mom…”

The thing is, I totally get why some people might be suspicious of a fake-out here. After all, the main character essentially piecing together what is clearly a massive twist BEFORE the big reveal is something we very much DON’T normally see. This is basically Luke Skywalker walking out of the Dagobah cave in Episode V, sitting down next to Yoda with an absolutely HAUNTED look and straight up stating: “Vader is my father, isn’t he?”

But when has RWBY ever done things NORMAL with fantasy tropes? And Ruby in particular has always been a very ATYPICAL protagonist. So I’d say RWBY’s heroine piecing together a major reveal ahead of time would actually be rather appropriate.

Furthermore, I think what we see play out in this scene is actually very important to one of RWBY’s major overriding narratives: The counterpoint to the repeated use of Unreliable Narrators. With how much RWBY has made use of this trope, that naturally raises the question ‘How can we/the characters be sure of ANYTHING?’ And I think we’re seeing the answer here:

The characters have to piece the answers together themselves.

Ruby finding out that her mother was taken by Salem and turned into a horrific grimm hybrid monstrosity is very much NOT a case of the Unreliable Narrator. Nobody TOLD Ruby this information, she simply figured it out herself.

First, Ruby learned from Tyrian back in Volume 4 that Salem specifically wants her alive.

Then in Volume 6, Ruby learned from Maria that Salem used to simply have Silver Eyed Warriors hunted down and killed. Meaning that something must have changed between Maria’s time and now.

Then in Volume 7, Ruby learned that her mother apparently MET Salem on that fateful final mission of hers.

Finally in Volume 8, Ruby sees this horrifying, monstrous Grimm Hybrid that Salem has created… with a Silver Eyed Warrior inside it.

And with that, the pieces fall into place:

As Ruby herself puts it: “Salem used to kill people with Silver Eyes, like Maria. But she’s always wanted ME alive. But why would that change unless… When she met Mom, she learned she could do something new.”

This isn’t even the first time the show has done something like this. Back in Volume 6, Maria’s and Ruby’s theory that the Silver Eyes originate from or are otherwise connected to the God of Light is NOT something they are ‘told’ but rather something they infer based on observations made during Jinn’s vision.

Given how much RWBY has made use of Unreliable Narrators, I think it’s actually only natural that the information our heroines come across and piece together themselves would be the far more legit answers.

Obviously it might not be the whole story, but it is at least the START of it.

Next let’s talk about Grimm!Summer herself and why I think Summer turning out to have joined and is serving Salem entirely willingly… doesn’t really WORK with everything that’s been set up so far.

The thing is, the big Hound reveal in Volume 8 essentially ‘locks-in’ Summer being the ‘Patient Zero’ of Salem’s whole Grimm Hybrid project. Again, as Ruby herself laid out; Salem used to kill people with Silver Eyes. But now she seems to want them, like Ruby, alive. And it turns out she actually met Summer Rose in the meantime. And now Salem is making horrific Grimm Hybrids using Silver Eyes Warriors. Ergo, meeting Summer is when Salem ‘learned she could do something new’.

So if Grimm!Summer turns out to be a red-herring… then WHERE did the Hybrids come from? Are we supposed to find out that ‘Oh, it wasn’t actually Summer, but rather thanks to some OTHER Silver Eyed Warrior who also just so happened to fight Salem that she learned she could start making Grimm Hybrids’?

Because I don’t think I need to explain why that would be an EXTREMELY UNSATISFYING as a twist. In the ‘red-herring that exists ONLY to be a red-herring’ kind of way.

And with Grimm!Summer as the starting point of Salem’s Hybrids essentially locked-in, I think that kills any possibility that Summer has joined and is working with Salem willingly. After all, I think it’s hard to imagine Summer working with/for Salem fully willingly if she’s also spent years as effectively the Patient Zero for Salem’s twisted hybrid experiments. As I’ve stated elsewhere, I think Summer’s mental state at this point is that she’s ‘willingly’ working for Salem, but only because she’s been so psychologically BROKEN by everything she’s been put through.

Finally, there’s this idea that Ruby ‘figuring out the twist’ in Volume 8 somehow ‘kills the reveal’ of Summer being a Grimm Hybrid. To which I not only VEHEMENTLY disagree with, but I also think it actually MASSIVELY ratchets up the tension surrounding Summer’s fate going forward.

Thanks to essentially figuring the reveal out early, now Ruby has to LIVE with this knowledge. Now this fact of Summer not only being alive, but likely some terrible grimm monstrosity can LOOM over Ruby, Yang, Weiss and Blake, as well as Qrow, Raven, Tai and others who were close to Summer once RWBY fills them in. Going forward, this knowledge will be sitting ominously in the back of Ruby’s mind. I mean it’s pretty clear that this was one of the things weighing HEAVILY on Ruby during Volume 9.

And it gives the appearance of more Grimm Hybrid further down the line an ominous, haunting inevitability for Ruby and her family. Because now she KNOWS that one of these monstrosities isn’t just a silver-eyed warrior like her, but her MOTHER.

It’s basically Alfred Hitchcock’s ‘bomb under the table’ theorem applied to long-form storytelling.

All in all, I do think there’s certainly a lot of really interesting ideas to Summer joining Salem willingly. I just think they don’t line up with where the story seems to be going.

[dd122004dd]

Whispers and Waltzes

So, I got a lovely request from @leylovestaytay and for some reason I couldn't resist writing it. So, here ya go, I hope you like it.

Warnings: Age gap

Gorgeous. It was the only word that came to mind when he saw her as she descended the stairs of their home carrying a bag filled with neatly stacked Tupperware. Her hair shone under the golden lights of their home as she flitted across the rooms, checking that she had everything as he stood, awestruck at his beautiful wife. Wife. A word he didn’t think he’d use again and with as much affection as he had, yet when he looked at her, eyes filled with adoration, no other word filled his mind.

He watched her as she double checked her bag before straightening, beaming at him. “Someone looks handsome.”

“I think you’re mistaking me for a mirror, darling, because you’re the gorgeous one among the two of us.”

“What a charmer. But really, you look amazing. Have I told you I love it when you dress up?” she asked rhetorically.

“Yes, darling. Now, we’d better get going otherwise we’re gonna be late.’’

“As you wish, honey,” she said, as he quickly helped her with her bag, carrying it out to the car and opening her door for her as she locked up.

The drive was relatively short as they approached the familiar drive-way of Aaron Hotchner.

Walking up the drive-way she rapped her fingers across the wood, waiting for the door to open. She smiled, glancing at her husband, he looked charming in his navy suit jacket, contrasting against his blue shirt. He was the epitome of grace and composure, yet his exterior hid a fierce heart that not everyone was allowed to see.

He glanced at her again, smiling softly at her as the soft yellow porch lights reflected off his warm brown eyes.

Within a moment the door swung open, with Haley smiling and welcoming the pair into her home.

She smiled, embracing Haley and asking for directions towards the kitchen.

“Why?” Haley asked curiously.

“Well, I didn’t want to come empty handed, so I made some tiramisu,” she said, smiling sheepishly.

“Oh! That was so sweet of you. I’m sure everyone will love it!” Haley said warmly, leading the other woman towards the kitchen, chatting animatedly.

Jason stood awkwardly in the living room before Spencer spotted him and walked over, talking about his latest book, a psychological critique on the works of Zimbardo. He welcomed the distraction, as he discussed the ethical implications of Zimbardo’s discoveries as well as the nature of good and evil within people.

He walked with Reid, towards a table in the corner of the room and grabbed a glass of Hotch’s finest scotch as he continued with his discussion.

‘It seems Aaron had also called a few of his old friends from the academy as well as a few unfamiliar agents to this get-together,’ Jason mused internally but was broken from his thoughts when he heard a loud laugh from across the room. He turned towards the sound and saw his wife, glowing as she laughed and threw her head back at a joke Derek told her. He was grinning beside her, watching her laugh with soft eyes.

Jason’s heart twisted in his chest as he glanced at the pair, thinking that they looked like a couple. He quickly dismissed the thought, taking a deep sip from his scotch as Reid chattered away beside him, unaware of his shift in mood. He heard an agent a little distance away tell his friend, “Don’t they look lovely together?”

“Who?”

“That guy and girl over there by the table.”

“Oh, her. She’s married to Agent Gideon”

“Really? But she’s so young. I don’t think a grumpy guy like Gideon would’ve gone for someone like…that,” the first agent said in surprise.

“Well, apparently he did, but I always felt like she would’ve been so much better with someone closer to her age, like Agent Morgan or someone else, they have such good chemistry.”

“Yeah, so did you hear about…” the two agents started walking away as their sound trailed off yet their words echoed through Jason’s ears as they struck him. Was he too old for her? Was he making her waste her youth? Was Derek the better option for her? His thoughts started to quickly spiral as he continued watching his beloved wife talking and laughing with Derek.

A bitter taste filled his mouth as he took another swing of his scotch to remove the taste, only to notice that the glass was empty, so he stalked towards the drink table, ignoring Spencer, and poured himself a large glass of scotch and downing it. The alcohol helped numb his pain as he watched his wife talk to the other agents present. He kept his distance from her, going out of his way to appear busy whenever she attempted to approach him.

She was finally able to corner him towards the end of the night as the party started to wind down, the exuberant atmosphere relaxing into a mellow calm with slow jazz playing in the background as couples slowly swayed to the music. She approached him, knowing he loved to waltz, eager to have his hands in hers.

“Hey stranger,” she said, smiling at him.

“Hi,” he said breathlessly as he took another swing from his scotch, feeling pleasantly buzzed.

“May I have this dance?” she asked, palm raised as she gazed hopefully at him. He was a rather private man who rarely engaged in public depictions of his adoration, yet in that moment, he grasped her hand, smiling softly as she beamed at him.

He allowed her to lead him towards the makeshift dancefloor as the two began to sway with the music. Slowly their tempo moved faster as they found themselves in a slow waltz, gracefully moving across the room, weaving their way among the other couples.

“Why are you with me?” he blurted out, unable to hold the words in. His intoxicated mind was desperate for answers, prompting him to be more forward than usual.

“Is that why you’ve been so distant tonight, darling?” she asked sweetly before sighing, “If I could name all the reasons why, well, we’d have to spend all night dancing.”

A small smile played on his lips as he prompted her to answer.

“Well, lets start with this,” she said, squeezing his shoulder, “this shoulder which comforts me when I’m sad or stressed, these shoulders which hold so much responsibility, yet they don’t shake. You, my love, are my foundation, you and your very stable shoulders,” she said, giggling slightly.

Then she trailed her hand up his shoulder till she was gently cradling the base of his head, “This beautiful mind that solves puzzles at the drop of a hat, this mind that stores so much knowledge, this mind that catches the trickiest of criminals, this mind that captivates those closest to you with your quick charm and dry wit.”

She quickly stepped on her tippy-toes as she placed a peck on his lips, his heart stuttering in his chest as she continued, “These lips that charm me, that comfort me, that embrace the deepest parts of me.”

Then she looked deep into his eyes, saying, “Those gorgeous eyes that remind me of hot coffee on a cold winter’s morning, warming me from the inside out. The little twinkle in your eye when you know something I don’t, or when you’ve solved a puzzle or found an interesting fact to share with me.”

Next, she trailed her hand from his shoulder to his chest, over his heart, “This heart, that loves so fiercely and passionately, that is so protective of me and your family. This beautiful heart that you shield from the world, this heart that loves me and that I love in return. These are the reasons I love you, because you are you. And I’d never want anyone else.”

As she finished, she slowly laid her head over his heart, listening to the slow rhythm as they swayed to the lilting tunes.

He looked down at her gently, bringing her closer to him, as they swayed. He felt whole, he felt save and comforted, and most of all, he felt loved by the woman in his arms.

“I love you,” he whispered gently into her ear as she whispered it back, smiling against him.

When he’d written his letter to Spencer over a year ago, he’d left a broken man, with no hope, no belief and no happy ending. But he’d found it again in her, he found his belief in happy endings, because she was it, his happy ending, through even the darkest time in his life, she was his light, his beacon in the storm, and he’d never let her go.

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

OMG PT 3 OF FLAMES PLS

HI! This will definitely get a part 4, so don't think I'm just leaving it up in the air haha. I hope you like it!

Flames - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader - Part 3

Summary: When Ethan gets out of the hospital and shows up at your door, you decided to give him the opportunity to earn your trust back.

Part 1, Part 2

Contains: mom!reader, mentions of things that you do when you have a baby(such as breast feeding and diaper changing), Ethan's struggles with mental health, mentions of homelessness, angst, and a few moments of fluff sprinkled in as Ethan tries to learn how to be a dad. If I missed anything, let me know:)

A/N: I love this little series that myself and the original requester (@l3ndryz) have come up with. This is definitely a little dark, but the story will get a little happier as I write it.

*I'm going to tie up loose ends to other series' I previously started and lost inspiration for soon, I promise 💕*

When you heard the words “Is that your baby?” you didn’t know how to respond. As your heart started to race, part of you felt like you were going into shock. You were quickly pulled out of it when River started to cry.

“It’s okay, baby,” you said, bouncing her as you looked back up to Ethan. “I don’t know what to say to you.”

“What do you mean? Is she…is she mine?” he asked, the fear in his voice obvious.

“Plan B doesn’t work if you’re ovulating, apparently,” you sighed, looking back down at the baby, smiling as she dozed back off.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his eyes trying to read yours in hopes of understanding, “Did you know before you left New York?”

“Yes,” you said, coldly. He looked like he was about to cry.

“You knew and didn’t tell me? That is so fucked up,” he said, running his hand through his hair in frustration.

“No, what’s fucked up is that you and your twisted little family decided to kill people,” you snapped, “I didn’t know that Quinn was your sister. I didn’t know that Detective Bailey was your dad. And I sure as shit didn’t know that Richie, the one that chased me around the house with a knife before Amber stabbed me, was your fucking brother. I don’t even know who you are!”

“Baby, please let me explain,” he said, your eyes getting dark in rage.

“Don’t call me that. We’re done,” you started to shut the door again, as he begged from the other side.

“Please hear me out…I have no where else to go. I was hoping the one person that I love more than anything would at least try to understand,” he sobbed, as you opened the door again. There were so many things running through your head. You needed to make sure your daughter was safe, but that little voice inside your head was screaming for you to at least talk to him.

“Do you have any knives on you? Guns? Anything that could harm me and your daughter?” you asked, as he shook his head. “Come in.”

You placed your daughter in the bassinet as Ethan watched you, so sad that he’s missed out on this experience.

“We can talk, but you have to be quiet. She hasn’t been sleeping well the last few days,” you sighed, knowing that your shirt with spit-up on it and your hair that hadn’t been washed in days probably gave that away.

“I don’t know how to start,” he said, laughing a little.

“I don’t think this is funny,” you said, your eyes connecting with his.

“It’s not...Dad wanted revenge for Richie…and I couldn’t just not help,” he sighed, as you looked at him to continue, “But at the end, after you left, I wanted to stop it.”

“So why didn’t you?” you questioned, as Ethan started to fidget with his fingers.

“Quinn stabbed me when I was about to,” he sighed, looking over to the baby, “I really wish you would’ve told me.”

“I couldn’t. After Amber I had this gut feeling that you had something to do with it. As bad as I didn’t want to believe it, it was always on my mind,” you said, staring at the floor as you thought back to Mindy’s accusations.

“I know you don’t trust me…you have a good reason not to. But I don’t want to miss out on this baby’s life,” he said, his voice cracking as he spoke.

“Ethan,” you paused, trying to think of the right words, “I don’t know how to let you be a part of her life. You hurt me so badly, and I’m not sure how to move past that.”

“Can you at least let me try to prove to you that I’m okay?” he asked, “I was in the hospital for a long time. I’m going to start therapy out here, too. Please just give me that chance.”

You sat there thinking for a few minutes. You didn’t want to say yes, but you didn’t want to say no either.

“When you said you had nowhere to go, what did you mean?” you asked, avoiding answering until you knew.

“I mean no one wants me…All of my family wants nothing to do with me. I can’t really blame them, though.”

“If you stay here, can I trust you?” you asked, as he nodded. “This doesn’t mean that we’re okay. I will give you the chance to be around her, but you won’t be left alone with her.”

“Okay, thank you,” he said, looking back over to the baby, “Can I hold her?”

“No, not yet. You need to prove yourself to me,” you said, as you started to walk into the kitchen.

“Can she be left alone?” he asked as he followed you, panicking at the idea of it.

“She can for a minute. She’s swaddled and in a safe place,” you smiled, walking over to the sink. “I want you to clean these.” You said, pointing to the bottles sitting on the counter beside the sink.

“How do I do that?” he asked, making you roll your eyes.

“Okay, let’s start with the basics,” you sighed, “This is a bottle brush. This little thing on the end unscrews and you clean the nipple part of the bottles with it. I want you to use the baby dish detergent in the pink bottle. After that, you’re going to put them in the sterilizer.”

“I think I can do that,” he said, moving in front of the sink.

“Do I need to take the knives out of here? Or can you be trusted?” your snarky tone and the accusations were starting to trigger all the things his psychiatrist warned him about. He ran through all the steps in his head as he tried to calm down, before speaking.

“I know I’ve done things to break your trust, but you’re going to have to let me prove to you that I’m not the monster you think I am. Please stop mentioning the knife stuff.”

“Okay,” you gave a half-smile, leaving him to clean the bottles as you went back to your daughter.

After twenty minutes, she started to wake up. You recognized her cry as a hungry one, so you picked her up and lifted your shirt. You adjusted so she was able to latch when Ethan walked back in the room.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he said, turning his back to you. “I finished the bottles, they’re in the sterilizer.”

“Quit acting weird, this is natural. It’s not like you haven’t seen my boobs before,” you laughed a little, as he turned around.

“So you do both? You bottle feed and breast feed?” he asked, watching you feed her.

“Yeah. After doing this so many times, your nipples start to hurt,” you groaned, “Like right now.”

“I wish there was something I could do to help.”

“You just did. You cleaned the bottles I haven’t had the chance to get to the last couple days.”

He smiled, happy that he did something to be helpful. Once she started to turn away because she was full, you pulled your shirt back down and looked over to Ethan.

“Come here,” you said, as walked over and sat down beside you. “I’m going to show you how to hold her.”

As he positioned his arms, you passed the baby to him.

“She’s perfect,” he said, finally getting a good look at her tiny little features. “What’s her name?”

“River Judith Landry,” you said, as he started to grin.

“You gave her my last name?” he asked, looking back down at her. “You have no idea how happy that makes me.”

“You are her dad.”

Ethan held her for a while, getting tired himself as he started to drift off.

“Hey,” you said, gently scooping her out of his arms, “Never fall asleep with her in your arms.”

He looked sad as you pulled her away but understood why. You put her back in the bassinet before sitting beside Ethan.

“We need to talk about sleeping arrangements,” you said, looking over at his tired expression. “I don’t know how my parents will feel about this…but they tend to be cool with things so we should be fine. I didn’t go into detail about what happened with you,” he nodded as he waited for you to continue, “We have a guest bedroom beside mine. You can sleep in there while we figure everything out.”

“Okay, I appreciate you giving me a chance,” he said, yawning as relaxed into the couch.

“Please don’t make me regret it,” you sighed, “I have another bassinet in my room that she sleeps in right now, at least until she’s a little older. She’ll be up every few hours tonight, if you wake up and want to come help, you can.”

 “I’d love to,” he mumbled, as he started to fall asleep.

As Ethan slept, the light snores slipping past his lips reminded you of all the nights you’d fallen asleep on his chest when he’d stay over. You couldn’t help but wonder how life could’ve been so different had he not gone along with his dad’s plan. You weren’t sure if he was behind any of the actual murders that happened, but when you thought back to the night at the apartment, you realized that had to be him. Why else would someone completely go around you, then lock the door the second you ran out of it? You wanted to ask, but you didn’t want to know at the same time. You weren’t sure if he’d tell you the truth, and the last thing you needed was for him to start lying. You knew how you’d react, and until you had a better understanding of his mental health, you pushed your thoughts to the back of your mind.

“Hey,” you said, gently nudging Ethan, “My mom’s home. I want you to come meet her.”

He rubbed his eyes as he tried to wake up, “Okay.”

As your mom came in through the garage door, you led Ethan through the kitchen to the dining room.

“Hey, mom,” you said, a smile on her face as she introduced herself to your guest.

“I’m Ethan,” he said, shaking her hand.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said, sitting the groceries down on the table.

“I hope you don’t mind, but he’s going to stay with us for a little while,” you said, searching her face for any negative reaction to the situation.

“Okay, you’ve had so many friends here lately…I’ve gotten used to having a full house,” she laughed, “What do you want for dinner?”

“Honestly, I’m okay with anything,” you said looking over to Ethan.

“Yeah, I’m fine with whatever,” he said, as River started to coo in the other room.

“Someone’s awake,” you smiled, the excitement in your voice as you headed back to the living room. Ethan was right behind you, determined not to miss out on another second of time with her.

“She really doesn’t know anything?” he asked, as you picked the baby up.

“Shhh, she’s going to think I’m fucking nuts if she finds out you had anything to do with what happened in New York.”

“Okay,” he said, “Is she like, awake? Like she’s not going to instantly fall back asleep?”

“Not for a little bit. These moments only happen a few times a day, so I like to enjoy it,” you said, laying her down on the couch as you crouched beside it.

Ethan watched you play with her hands and make goofy little noises at the little sounds she’d make. He never expected to come to your house and see a baby in your arms. He thought it was the end of the road for him, especially if you didn’t give him a chance. He wasn’t sure what he had to live for, but within a matter of hours his whole outlook on everything changed.

“The new baby smell is the best thing ever,” you said, sniffing the top of her head. “You want to play with her?”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea…I don’t want to hurt her,” he said, as you nodded.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t feel comfortable with.”

She soon started to drift off to sleep again when your mom walked in to let you know that dinner would be ready soon.

“Look at my precious granddaughter,” she said, taking her from you. “It’s crazy how fast they grow up. Before you know it, she’ll be a teenager.”

“You’ve only told me that every day since she was born,” you said sarcastically, as she handed her to you to head back to the kitchen.

“I say it so much because it’s true,” she sighed, “I’m so proud of you. Doing all of this on your own isn’t easy, but you’re doing such a good job with her.”

Ethan started to feel guilty as she spoke. As badly as he wanted to tell her that you wouldn’t have to do this by yourself anymore, he didn’t know if that was true. Yeah, you’re giving him a chance, but he was terrified that you’d rip his chance away if he did the slightest thing to fuck up. The only thing he could hope for was that you would realize he was the same person you fell in love with, regardless of all the lies he told. He knew it wouldn’t be easy, but he was determined to get you back and have a life with his daughter.

As you sat at the dinner table across from Ethan, you started to notice how hungry he was, but he wasn’t trying to show it. You were wondering when the last time he ate was; or maybe this was the best thing he’d eaten in a long time. When his eyes connected with yours, he started to chew a little slower as you offered a sad smile.

“So, your dad will be out of town the next couple days,” your mom said, “And I’ll be working late the rest of this week, but Chad and Tara are coming back tomorrow, right?”

Ethan’s eyes widened at the mention of their names. He was trying to get in your good graces, but he started to feel like everything would all fall apart the second they saw him with you.

“Yeah, Mindy might come over, too,” you said, taking a bite of your food.

“I’m so happy they help you out. Chad is so protective of that baby girl,” she said, as Ethan started to feel jealous, “and he did so much to help you out before the baby was born.”

“They’re really good friends,” you smiled, looking back over to Ethan. You could tell he was in his feelings at your mom’s words. “Ethan’s going to be really helpful with her, too.”

He flashed you a weak smile when his eyes met yours.

“It does take a village to raise a baby,” she said, smiling at him.

After dinner, you noticed that the baby’s diaper needed to be changed. Ethan followed you upstairs to the nursery as you started to laugh to yourself, wondering how he’d react to the diaper changing part of parenthood.

“You want to take notes?” you asked, as you laid her on the changing table and started to undress her.

“Oh, uh…I…” he stammered, as you looked over to him.

“You’re eventually going to have to do this if you want the full parenting experience,” you laughed, “Shit, I forgot to refill the diapers earlier. There’s a box of them in her closet that’s open, can you grab a stack out of it for me?”

“Yeah,” he said, feeling confident in his ability to at least help with that. He handed you several diapers as you refilled the little cubby on the changing table.

He watched you take the diaper off, almost gagging at the sight. “Don’t freak out, you’ll get used to it,” you said, trying to assure him.

“That smells awful,” he said, stepping away for a second.

“Again…you’ll get used to it,” you laughed, as you got her cleaned up. “Okay, it’s so important for you to pay attention to stuff like this,” you said, drawing his attention back over. “She’s getting a little diaper rash, and if I don’t put the cream on her now, it’ll get worse. It can be painful for her, so that’s just something you have to look out for, okay?”

“Is she in pain now?” he asked, looking at her as she started to coo and kick her feet.

“No, she’s okay,” you said before talking to River. “Quit trying to kick me,” you said in a soft voice, as she started to coo a little louder. “Don’t be mean to mommy.”

He smiled as you finished changing the diaper, your maternal instincts radiating off you. Ethan was in love with you before the baby but seeing you like this made him fall so much harder.

“You’re a good mom,” Ethan said, as you turned to look at him. “She’s lucky she has you.”

“Thank you,” you smiled, “It’s crazy…I went from being this college kid that wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with my life, to being a mom. If you would’ve told me a year ago that this was how my life was going to be, I wouldn’t have believed it.”

As the night started to wind down and River was asleep once again, you walked into the room beside yours to Ethan.

“Hey, I know you didn’t come here with much…what do you need?” you asked, taking a seat at the foot of the bed.

“Oh, um…I’ll figure it out.”

“I didn’t ask you to figure it out. I asked you to tell me what you needed,” you said sternly, as he nodded. “Do you have all the hygiene products you need?”

“God, this is so fucking embarrassing,” he sighed, looking over to you. “I’ve kind of been homeless the last few weeks since I got out of the hospital. I had a bunch of stuff, but someone stole it yesterday.”

You frowned at his words. The idea of the father of your child on the streets made you feel sick.

“Come with me,” you said, leading him to the bathroom. “Chad showers here a lot because he’s always getting spit up on. He’s her puke target almost always,” you said, laughing a little, “He has this three-in-one body wash. I don’t know how you guys do that because I need like, five different products when I shower. But there’s clean towels in this cabinet, and I have extra toothbrushes in this drawer.”

Ethan had a few things running through his mind. He couldn’t believe you were being so sweet when you hated him earlier in the day, but he also couldn’t shake the sadness of the idea of Chad being so close to you and your daughter.

“Chad’s still with Tara, right?” he asked, trying to play it as cool as possible. You saw right through it, knowing he was asking because he was scared that another man was taking his place.

“Yeah…Ethan, I don’t want you to feel discouraged to build a relationship with your daughter because Chad’s helped a lot. He’s not her dad, you are. I’m trying to give you this chance, but I need you to not get jealous or angry when you see him with her.”

“Okay,” he said, his gaze not leaving from the floor. “I’ll try to get used to it.”

You smiled at him, before thinking about what else he needed. “Oh shit, clothes! Do you have those?”

He nodded, before realizing he hadn’t had a chance to wash what he does have. You noticed the look on his face, “Hang on a second.”

You ran to your room and searched for some things for him to wear, and when you made it back to the bathroom, he felt like he could cry when he saw what you had.

“Is that my sweatpants and shirt that I gave you?” he asked, “I can’t believe you still have these.”

“When we didn’t get to see each other much because of exams, you gave them to me to wear when I was missing you a little extra than usual,” you smiled, “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t still wear them all the time.”

You walked out of the bathroom before he could respond, knowing that you’d just expressed to him that you had missed him while he was gone. He smiled to himself as he cut on the shower and stepped inside.

As you heard the shower running faintly down the hall, you started to wonder how your friends would react to Ethan being back in your life. You knew Chad would really be hurt because he felt so fucked over by Ethan. The two of you were the ones that struggled the most after you found out your boyfriend was Ghostface. He defended Ethan to Mindy countless times until the night that Anika died, and even started to trust him again before everything happened at the theater. He felt so deceived; he had a good reason for feeling that way.

Then you started to think about all the things Ethan had been through. He was manipulated into helping his dad, stabbed and left for dead by his own sister, spent several months in a psychiatric hospital, and experienced homelessness before he showed up at your front door. Your heart broke for him, but you still needed to work on trying to build up that trust, if that was even possible.

When you heard the shower cut off, Ethan popped into your room shortly after in his clothes that you gave him.

“Sorry I didn’t have boxers or anything. Maybe we can go shopping tomorrow to get some of the stuff you need. And we can get the laundry that you do have taken care of.”

“I can’t believe you’re being so sweet to me after everything,” he said, watching River as she slept in the bassinet.

You sighed, smiling as you watched him look at her in awe, “We’ve both been through a lot. I might not be able to trust you right this second, but I believe that you loving me was never a lie, and I can tell you really want this chance to try to make things right. I’m willing to try for her, but the second you give me a reason to doubt your intentions, or you make me uncomfortable, that’s it. No more chances.”

“I promise you that I won’t give you any reason to not trust me. I know you’re probably a little scared, too. The meds I take helps a ton, but I do still have moments where I struggle. I just hope you can be patient with me and try to understand. You don’t owe me shit, but I want you to know that I’m genuine about all of this.”

You nodded at his words, before he stood up to go to the other room. “Goodnight,” he mumbled, before stopping to take one last look at his daughter before walking out.

“Hey,” you said, as he’d just made it past the doorway. He turned back around to face you. “I know I mentioned this earlier, but if she wakes you up with her crying tonight, I’d really appreciate the help if you want to.”

“Of course. I’ll do anything I can to get extra time with her,” he smiled.

“No pressure, though. I know you haven’t slept well lately, so I completely understand if you just want to sleep.”

“No, I’ll wake up. I’ll see you soon, I guess,” he laughed a little, walking into the room next to yours.

[jesswritesthat]

Iwaizumi Hajime: Brothers’ Best Friend

Fandom: Haikyuu!! — [ Masterlist ]

Summary: 2.5k, fluff

• It can be hard when you catch feelings for your brother best friend, but the least you can do is be mature about it and turn it into a game.

Warnings: a few insults

>>>>——————————>

Iwaizumi Hajime had been 5 things to you over the years, some you'd regretted, many you'd denied, but there's 1 he'd finally accept.

———

He was your ‘brothers’ best friend.

Even from a young age, Iwaizumi Hajime had always captured your interest - most would often sway towards Oikawa but considering he was your older brother figure as your families were quite close, you saw quite enough of him already.

To anyone, your favouritism was evident, including to Oikawas' parents who regularly took you to collect Tōru from his Volleyball club practices.

Gingerly you walked past the child players who varied in height but were all taller than you, some recognising you and side stepping so you could locate your targets faster.

All while Tōrus older sister filmed the humorous ritual. You strolled toward the familiar pair, Oikawa immediely breaking into a blinding smile and picking you up with a prideful greeting. Iwaizumi halted beside his partner whilst he lifted you (there was only 2 years between you but at this age you'd yet to grow).

However, it was not your brother you wanted - no, he held you in his arms only for you pout and kick in his grasp.

Adhering to his childish personality, the cute Setter scoffed whilst mumbling curses as he passed you to his best friend who had his arms open already, used to this familiar favouritism behaviour - a smug look sent to his partner as you settled immediately with a content grin.

Happily you allowed Hajime to manoeuvre you to a piggy back position and carry you over to your amused family.

"This'll be good blackmail in the future y'know, I think for all of you~" Tōrus sister finally pressing stop on the recording, you supposed that at her age she had it out for her 'siblings'.

———

He was a crush.

A phase you'd told yourself, just some ridiculous school girl crush that'd pass eventually because above all else, he was a good friend.

"Hi (Y/n), Iwaizumi is here y'know." Oikawas sister said it with a playful mirth to her silky tone, knowing smirk situated on her face upon seeing you light up.

"Iwa?! Really~"

"That's the guy you talk about, on the high school team with your 'brother' right?"

"Yes! You have to me him -them- c'mon." Eagerly you dragged your friend into the kitchen where the two volleyball players were conversing.

"Hey guys."

"Awh! Chibi-chan, did you miss me? I know I'm amaz—"

Fluently you ducked under his open arms, flying straight into the unsuspecting but easily prepared Iwaizumi who only groaned in reply.

"Tch, not as amazing as Iwa-chan apparently."

"You've grown (Y/n), and who’s your friend?"

"Yeah, that's how life generally works Iwaizumi, oh and this Yuki."

"Nice to meet you. Oi, careful, you sound like Crappykawa and one of those is enough thanks." Iwaizumi chided after introductions, leaving you shaking your head but excited to ask your next question.

"How was the game? God I can't wait to start Aobajohsai next year! I'll finally be able to watch you guys for real."

"We won 2-0. Next year you can come to our practices too. We still need a manager and since Crappykawa is going to be Captain, he might put in a good word."

"Not likely, especially since you'll take Iwas' side in everything." Oikawa sneakily replied, giving you a childish face which you naturally returned.

"That's because he's usually right Tōru."

Once finishing your conversation, you left for your own home like originally planned with Yuki, also glad she’d finally met the two most important people in your life.

“Wow, you’re big brother figure is really good looking~”

“Ew no, did you even meet Iwaizumi? He’s so cool, he’s the arm wrestling champion at Aobajohsai.”

“You know we don’t stand a chance, they’ll be thirds years whilst we’re first years.” She’d awkwardly added, but you remained charismatically confident.

“You’re not thinking ahead, I’ll have a chance one day but until then there’s a bunch of cute guys in our year.”

“Yes, speaking of, I finally got the courage to speak to Tadashi-kun today~”

———

He was a protector.

"Back. Off." Every word was deadly punctuated, standing as a warning all on their own without needed the back up of Iwaizumis dangerous glare.

"Who are you?!" The pestered had glowered, having followed you from your friends’ party that night.

"Take another step and you'll find out."

"Iwaizumi, it's fine— I can handle this." You had every intention to, but Iwaizumi stood protectively in front of you and fingers twitching to punch this scoundrel if he dared make a move to touch you, it was best to leave it.

"Whatever.” Then he was gone, storming off in the other direction much to your joint relief.

“(Y/n) you need to be more careful.”

“I was careful! That’s why I messaged Oikawa the second I noticed him following me.” Hold on, why the hell was Iwaizumi here then?

“Creeps will target students walking alone, especially ones like you.”

“Don’t you think I know that? I’m not and idiot an— what do you mean ‘like me’?”

“What? You’re, y’know— you’re ours!” He seemed stifled by his response but he couldn’t exactly tell you it’s because you were considered attractive.

"You can stop treating me like a baby, I'm 16 Hajime! I can take care of myself, besides..." There was brief hesitation but your emotions were too strong. "I need to get used to you and Tōru not being around, don't I?"

It was a low blow, you knew that, but had every right to be angry at both the world and him, especially with that bubbling feeling of betrayal being so fresh.

"What? So protecting you suddenly means I'm treating you like a child?"

"What else would it be?" You bit back again, knowing by this point you were only being hurtful.

"That I—" A pause.

"That I care about you dumbass, is that so hard to believe? I know you're growing up but that doesn't mean me -or Tōru- are gonna stop looking out for you just because we're on the other side of the world."

"Sure it doesn’t, I'm going home." Despite his words being full of honesty, you turned your back on him and started walking.

"I'll walk you."

"No, I'll walk myself thanks."

"It wasn't a request."

Eventually you arrived at Oikawas’ house, storming in and ditching your shoes in his porch - the pretty brunette heaving a knowing sigh. Oikawa would give you a minute, Iwa having now walked into the house moments after without a word, and that’s when Oikawa followed your path and hesitantly knocked on his own bedroom door for entry.

"Don't be mad at Iwa-chan."

"Yeah yeah 'he's only trying to look out for you' and 'Hajime is protective over people close to him', heard it all before Tōru." Came your muffled reply, face hidden in your arms on the setters bed.

"...Guess you have but uh, this is different."

"Tch."

"It's because he's going to miss you, our Ace won't ever admit that but it's true. Not seeing you and dealing with our chaos all the time will be weird for him. You were near the top of his list to tell once he’d made his decision about California y'know?" Tōru sat tentatively beside you, a reassuring hand patting your back in aid of comforting you.

"Doesn't make it hurt any less, finding out I'm not only losing my big brother but his best friend too."

"You're more upset about me though right?" There was a preganant pause, quite honestly you weren't exactly listening but it was enough for Oikawa to sit abruptly from the bed. "Right?!"

"Tōru!"

"Fine fine, I'm taking that as a yes, but anyway, Iwa-chan just wants to make sure you're gonna be okay in life before he leaves (Y/n)."

There was another silence, a quiet sob escaping you that you’d desperately tried to cover up.

"…Where were you? I needed you Tōru and you weren’t there…"

You felt him cease up, the pain laced your voice and he knew it was partly because it’ll be this way for the foreseeable future, but this time wasn’t his fault.

“Iwa-chan was here when I got your message, he was out the house before I could even put my shoes on. So I waited here for when you came back.” They really were the best team. “Anyway, I’ll prepare my sisters old room for you to stay tonight.”

Awkwardly you shuffled into the kitchen, finding the Ace situated at the table, already changed into a t-shirt and joggers he had here and tiredly brooding over some freshly made tea.

"Hey..." The quietened whisper from your lips surprised even you, let alone Hajime who looked up from his cup with a softening frown.

"Hey, you okay?"

"Yeah, I um, I wanted to apologise. You were only trying to help and you even walked me home after I was a crappy friend so..."

"Anytime." There was a hanging silence again, hugging yourself a bit before the brunette awkwardly cleared his throat. "I uh, I understand you were upset, and butting in on the situation probably wasn't necessary so I'm sorry too. It just pissed me off."

"We're good then?"

"Yeah, we're good."

Pausing at the entrance, you sighed quietly - bare feet quickly tapping on the floor and before Hajime could check the origin you'd engulfed him from behind, arms wrapped around his chest and nose buried in the nape of his neck.

"I'll miss you too Hajime."

You heard his breath hitch, muscles tensing under your touch and tentative fingers gracing your own with a gently sigh.

Then you pulled away slightly, the same moment he'd looked back to you, gazes meeting for only a few sacred seconds like sharing a thousand words. Softly you smiled, both of you laughing as your fingers slipped from his figure and you'd walked back to the guest room. Only to find Oikawa sat expectantly on the bed waiting for you.

"You tell him?"

"Not quite. But I said enough."

———

He was a traitor.

Not a phase. It must be a familiarity thing then, Hajime had always been present in your life since you could remember. There wasn't a prolonged period of time when he hadn't been involved - at school, at home, with Oikawa, even on vacations, or via social media.

Maybe once he'd left, once he was no longer around, the constant familiarity wouldn't influence your feelings anymore.

For now though, when you were gifted a moment alone with him that’d likely be your last, you decided it couldn’t hurt to express your feelings. Calmly and nonchalantly.

"I like you Hajime."

"I like you too (Y/n)." He paused, soft and sentimental smile gracing his lips briefly as if resenting his next words. "But you know there's the age thing."

"I know, but I'm in it for the long game."

You could tell your confident statement caught him off guard, yes Iwaizumi knew the topic of conversation was to be handled with care but that didn’t mean he wasn’t perplexed by you.

"I don't want you to wait for me or anything, considering I'm heading to California."

"I had no intention of waiting, our paths will cross again. It's nice knowing you're out there, I'm out there, and we both know. That's enough." You shrugged, leaning back far too casually for the situation.

"Knowing we're both out in the world, I can play along with that."

"Besides, I'll win in the end Hajime."

"Oh yeah? What makes you so sure."

There was a playful smirk on your lips as you sat up a little straighter, hands clasped and head tilted in curiosity. "Well, date me now?"

"No way."

"Okay, then date me later?"

"..." Despite his snapping reply earlier, he now furrowed his brows in thought. "You don't even know what we'll being doing in the future."

"You're not saying no."

"..." A flicker of realisation when meeting your competitive gaze.

"See." You smirked. "That's what makes so sure."

"The long game huh?" Iwaizumi smiled "Count me in."

Oikawa joined you both then, stepping out onto the field and standing before your sitting figures.

"I'm still going to hate you though." A playful punch hitting Iwaizumis’ shoulder as you rose to your feet. "For leaving. I can't hide those feelings very well."

"I know, and it's okay. Hate me for as long as you need to."

“You two done? Let’s go~”

However it was the text later that night which left you more confused than ever.

[ Iwa: Finally. ]

[ (Y/n): Huh? ]

[ Iwa: I didn't give you an answer earlier, so that's it. ]

[ Iwa: Date you finally. ]

[ (Y/n): What does that mean? Eventually??? Later??? Iwaaaaa!!!! 😭 ]

[ Iwa: You're playing the long game remember?  So you'll just have to wait I guess. Anyways tell Shittykawa he better be up early tomorrow, night (Y/n) x ]

[ (Y/n): Tōrus' right, you are mean! 💀 ]

———

He was a friend.

"Someone grew up good." Iwaizumi nodded to you in greeting when you’d shown up to Oikawas’ family home, yourself gladly embracing the former traitor.

"Iwa-chan! That's my little chibi-chan!" Oikawa was quick to chastise, even at your expense.

"Tōru I'm not so little anymore, I'm a grown assed human with a job and rent for crying out loud!"

"With a petty attitude to boot." Oikawa mocked, sticking his tongue at you like you were children again.

"Wonder who they got that from Crappykawa?"

"How dare you compare me to him Iwaizumi?! That's it, we're enemies now - prepare to lose."

"I just got back from California, can't we do things normally for once? Like unpack, then celebrate my graduation by going out for dinner together like old times?"

Yourself and Oikawa looked at each other with offended expressions, mirroring smirks etching onto your lips once you'd set your attention back on an irritated Iwa.

"Nope!" You devilishly grinned, Oikawa already holding up Mario Kart controllers as he finished off.

"We're going to my place to have a tournament, loser buys dinner!"

"Idiots."

“Woah, us ‘idiots’ threw you a graduation party. We’re the best friends ever, you should be thanking rather than insulting us y’know.” Oikawa pointedly corrected referring to the destination later tonight.

“Yeah, when Tōru got back from the airport, we even tried making you a cake!”

“Guys… thanks so much…”

“Iwa-chan, congratulations on your graduation.” Tōru proudly cemented, next you gladly followed. “And welcome home.”

———

He was the love of your life.

It was a beautiful summers night in Tokyo, and you'd come to congratulate Iwaizumi on his recent job offer as the Japanese Olympic Volleyball Teams fitness trainer.

You didn't think you'd be sitting beside him staring up at the stars though, a blissful warm breeze allowing you to truly feel the moment.

It seemed Iwaizumi was the same, content smile upon his face.

"It's nice to see you (Y/n), I'm glad you made it."

"Well it's easier when you don't have to catch a flight from the other side of the world." It was evident to whom you’d referred, his absence always being felt in some way.

"Heh, yeah I got to speak to him over video chat though."

"Ugh that means he didn't get the slaps he deserves." Was your witty reply, Iwaizumi laughing alongside you.

"Nah, but don't worry I managed to scold him for anything ridiculous he came out with."

"Like beating everyone?"

"Exactly. With the team I'm gonna train, I'll kick his ass." It amazed you, that even as best friends their rivalry continued into adulthood.

"I hope you both do well Hajime."

"Hm, I hope Japan and Argentina get to face one another most of all."

"You miss him."

"Yeah." A sentimental smile and Iwa turned to you. "And I miss you too."

The atmosphere once again settled into that of comfortable tranquility. You supposed there was only one last thing to say then.

"Well Iwaizumi Hajime, I have one last question for you tonight."

"I know, you've been waiting. So go ahead." It was a challenge, the brunette facing you with an expectant smirk that matched your own.

"Date me now?"

"Don't you remember? I said date you, finally."

"Finally?" You mimicked again, still not knowing what he’d meant by that phrase.

"Guess the long game is over now huh?" Iwaizumi shrugged nonchalantly, despite his mocking tone which only left you sarcastically retorting.

"Shut up asshole."

"It meant, I may not have been your first love (Y/n), but I have every intention of being your last." His sentiment surprised you, especially if this is the thought he had when typing that text all those years ago. "If that's okay with you obviously."

"It is Hajime, then it's your call."

"(Y/n), will you finally go on a date with me?"

"No." You'd said it proudly, Hajime only knowingly smirking. "You don't get to take the victory lap now. This is my game, and I asked you first. You owe me an answer."

"Ah man, it was worth a shot but the only true loss here is missing the chance to be with you so yeah."

"Don't get all sappy on me Hajime! It doesn't suit you."

"Hey! I said I'd date you (Y/n), aren't I supposed to be a little sentimental with that." Though he seemed confident, Iwaizumi hadn’t hidden his blush very well.

"You might want to make another call to Oikawa, I'm sure dating his 'Chibi-chan' will have him back here in no time. Don't you need his permission huh?"

"Already got it." Iwaizumi seemed smug about it, no doubt probably asking prior to this encounter since he already knew what you wanted to ask - but you had your own surprises.

"Funny, I did too."

"You asked his permission to date me?!"

"Duh, you're his best friend. I got permission before you even left for California~"Not explicitly, but you assumed Oikawa had always known how you felt.

"You really had me from the start didn't you?"

"Yeah, but you had me too Iwa.”

Iwaizumi Hajime was (and had been) your everything. But you were always his everything too.

<——————————<<<<

[ Masterlist ]

[madneedshelp]

Always Choose You - Eddie Roundtree x Female Reader

Summary: You and Eddie were never meant to be more than a fling. So, why did you both keep coming back?

Includes: implied sex, alcohol and drug use, adult language

Note: The bolded names followed by a colon represent interview dialogue like from in the book.

The first time you met Eddie was at some gig he played with The Six. It was before Look At Us Now had blown up and they’d flown to stardom. No, you met him back in the days of small clubs on the Strip.

The band had just finished playing, you’d had a few drinks (and therefore some liquid courage in your blood), and you went for it. As soon as the cute bassist headed to the bar himself, you sauntered over.

“You were great up there. I’ve always wanted to play music like that.” You smiled and slid into the seat next to him.

He returned your grin and took a sip of his drink. “Ah thanks, we’ve been at it for a while now. I’m Eddie, by the way.” 

“Pleasure to meet you, Eddie. I’m Y/N. Have you all been in town long, I can’t say I’ve seen you play before.”

He shook his head. “We’re from Pittsburgh. Kind of took a leap of faith coming down here, but I think we’re all happy we did it.” 

You noticed as he glanced quickly over at the side of the bar. The singer of his band was talking with a beautiful brunette, but you could tell he was more focused on the girl than his friend. He looked back to you after almost a split second though, and you were almost convinced you made it up.

“Well, cheers to your success, I’m glad it’s working out for you guys.” You chuckled and clinked your glass with his.

You and Eddie flirted a bit more, drank a bit more, and at the end of the night he climbed into a taxi with you. Your roommate was out for the weekend, so you had an empty apartment and a hot guy at the ready. A nice one night stand could be just what you needed.  

————————

It never occurred to you that you’d see him again. Hell, you’d practically forgotten him after all that time had passed. Not that the two of you didn’t have a great night together, you were just both a little drunk and it was just once, so it never really crossed your mind. 

But then here you were, at a party for your roommate’s friend. She hadn’t told you much detail about the party, just that her friend Camila was hosting a housewarming party of sorts and she wanted you to come along as her guest. It gave you an excuse to get dressed up and it sounded fun, so you agreed without much thought. 

Your roommate, Sarah, introduced you to Camila and her husband Billy when you first arrived. Something seemed vaguely familiar about them, but you figured it was just because Billy’s band was famous and there was buzz about them everywhere. Still, you felt like maybe there was something else about them. As Camila and Sarah got caught up in conversation, you politely excused yourself to go grab a drink.

The house was full of people and you felt slightly like you were in a maze. Luckily, you wove your way to the bar area and were able to acquire a beer. 

You decided the next stop should be the patio out back. It was getting a little stuffy and some fresh air sounded perfect. You were on your way to the back door when someone stumbled into you from behind.

“Oh shit, my bad.” The man said immediately.

You turned and gave him a small smile. “It’s all good, no worries.” 

“Jesus Warren, I leave you alone for like five minutes and you’re already stumbling around aimlessly,” a familiar voice chuckled as another man strolled up beside him. 

Holy fuck. As you glanced over at his friend, you realized you knew this guy. This was that bar guy from God knows how long ago. 

It looked like said guy was having the same realization, or at least some kind of epiphany. His eyes narrowed slightly as he turned to really look at you.

“I think I know you from somewhere.” He muttered.

Eddie: Okay, I know it sounds bad, but I promise I didn’t forget about her. It had been a long time. Besides, apparently she couldn’t even remember my name, so we were both a little drunk that night.

Warren: I was high as shit, and I could definitely tell he didn’t recognize her. It’s funny to think about that now, God I can’t even imagine.

His friend-Warren- elbowed him with a laugh. “You can’t pick up chicks with that cheesy ass line, brother. No one is gonna fall for that shit.” 

You kind of wished you had some of whatever this guy was on because he was clearly high as a kite and having a grand old time. 

“Oh, I don’t know.” You let out a quiet, nervous laugh. You weren’t about to explain that you two had fucked and never spoken again once like a year or so ago.

“No, we have met before…” He trailed off in thought, but then his eyebrows shot up as it clicked. “Did you hang around the Sunset Strip by any chance?”

You downed what was left of your drink and nodded. “Yeah, I used to. I think you’ve put that together, though. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to grab another of these.” You held up the empty bottle and spun on your heel. 

Thankfully, the house had several exits, so you were able to grab your beer and slip out back unnoticed. Well, at least you thought you were. 

“Hey, can I talk to you?”

Bar guy came up beside you and gestured to the empty seat beside you. You felt like shit for this, but you couldn’t remember his name. Fred, maybe? God, you didn’t sleep around that much, you should be able to keep track of this. 

“Sure,” You shrugged. You do remember him being a nice guy, so you weren’t opposed to hearing him out. 

He hesitantly sat down. “Listen, I feel like I should apologize. I’m sorry it took me a minute to recognize you, and…well, I’m sorry I kind of disappeared from your place right after we…” His voice started trailing off when you started chuckling. “What’s funny?”

You felt your face flush and you waved a hand. “No, no, it’s not you, I promise. You really don’t have to apologize for anything, that’s why I was laughing. We slept together after I met you at a bar, I didn’t exactly expect us to grow old together.”

He was chuckling now too. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I just didn’t want you to think I was an ass or something. Can we start over?”

“Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.” You smiled and held out your hand for him to shake. 

“Eddie, and likewise.” 

Eddie! So you were kind of close earlier. Truth be told though, this was one of the weirdest encounters with a hookup that you’d ever had. Normally, you wouldn’t dream of interacting with someone afterwards, but something about this guy was different. You kind of liked talking to him, and you remember feeling like that the first time you met him too. 

———————— 

You woke up in a room that was definitely not yours, which caused a little bolt of panic to shoot through you. It only took a second for it to all come flooding, thankfully. 

Somehow, you had decided it was a good idea to go home with Eddie last night. Again. That definitely was not in your plan. You weren’t in the habit of dragging out one night stands, but it looks like you had a repeat. You two wound up hanging out for most of the party last night, and you were talking, then you were kissing, and now you were here. But God, was he a good repeat. To be honest, when you snuck a glance down at his sleeping face beside you, all you could think about was that he was kind of beautiful. 

A knocking came from the door and it nearly startled you out of bed. 

“Eddie! We gotta leave for the studio, man! Billy wants us there in an hour!” 

You looked down and realized you were bare ass naked, and immediately lunged for your clothes. You weren’t sure if Eddie’s roommate would just barge in, but you were not about to be caught naked if he did. Immediate relief flooded through you as you pulled on your dress and heard footsteps as the guy walked away from the door, but you were mostly amazed by the fact that none of this had actually woken Eddie. 

This was actually kind of worse. Now you had to make a choice. Did you leave unnoticed or did you wake him up and face the morning after conversation. You really didn’t want to talk. You hooked up once and then again, it was a weird string of events that you couldn’t hash out right now. Unfortunately, he showed no signs of waking up and you’d feel really bad if he was late to his band thing. 

With a sigh you stepped over to the bed and shook his shoulder gently. Then you shook it a little less gently. This man could sleep through a fucking tornado. 

Finally, he sat up and rubbed his face. “Hmm? Oh, mornin’...”

You quickly wiped off the tiny smile that threatened to overtake your face. Thinking he looked cute, all sleepy in the morning, was not a road you needed to go down. “Hey, your friend just knocked and said Billy wants you at the studio in an hour. You seemed pretty out of it, so I just wanted to let you know before I left.”

He muttered something about “he’s such an asshole” under his breath before looking back up at you. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“Yeah, no problem,” You nodded as nonchalantly as possible. “Well, I’m going to head out now. Um, thanks…for last night.”

The second the words left your mouth, you knew how stupid it all sounded. You used to be pretty smooth, but apparently that was temporary. You had to get out of there before you made it worse. You grabbed your purse and strode hurriedly for the door, but before you were outside, Eddie shouted. 

“Hey, wait!”

You looked back over your shoulder at him as he pulled on a pair of flannel pajama bottoms and started over to you. “Yeah?”

“Listen, um, I had fun last night. And I like you.” He combed a hand through his wild hair.

He looked like he wanted to keep going, but you cut him off first. “I’m not really looking for a relationship.” You blurted the words before you could think, and they left a curiously bitter taste in your mouth.

He looked mildly surprised at the outburst, but then shook his head. “I’m not either, actually. Honestly, I’m kind of getting over someone else right now. Stop me if I’m out of line here, but I was wondering if you might want to do this again sometime. All I’m saying is I had fun, and if you had fun too, then could I get your number? I promise I’m not proposing we grow old together here.” 

You chuckled at his reference to your conversation last night. You had to agree with him. Last night was good, and the thought of seeing him again was something you didn’t hate. 

Y/N: I can’t believe I’m actually admitting to this, but yes he became my, oh what is it people say now? My sneaky link? Friends with benefits? Whatever, the point is we kept seeing each other. Just having fun. We were in our 20s and carefree, you know?

————————

You and Eddie kept things casual for a long time. He grew to be one of your closest friends during that time. Yes, it was mainly about the sex for the two of you, but you actually got to know each other well. 

Eddie knew things about you that not even your roommate Sarah did. One night he opened up to you about Camila, about how he’d been in love with her for years and that was why he wasn’t looking for something serious. He seemed really vulnerable about it, and you decided to tell him about your cheating ex and why you didn’t want to date either. The two of you formed an odd sort of bond over that, over loving people that had chosen someone else. 

Eddie: If I’m being honest, I was lying when I told her about Camila. I told her I was still in love with her, but I hadn’t been for a while. I was just too afraid to admit that maybe I moved on. 

Y/N: I was done with it just being a fling at that point. Sure, I was still hurt by what happened, but I think Eddie helped heal that untrusting part of me. I felt ready for a relationship, but I didn’t know where he stood on the matter. I didn’t fess up because it almost felt better to have him in that way, than to not have him in my life anymore.

Karen: They were so obviously in love with each other, I’ll never know how they couldn’t see it in each other. The rest of us definitely could. 

Graham: Y/N and Eddie? Yeah, I think the rest of us knew about them before they knew themselves. It was annoying as hell to live with them, I mean especially sharing a wall with Eddie. Warren and I took bets on how long it would take them to actually figure out their shit, and that son of a bitch beat me. 

You and Eddie were lovers for almost a year. 

Everything changed on a night that seemed so typical. Eddie had showed up at your place, absolutely livid.

“He cut my fucking part from the song! He’s such a fucking asshole!” Eddie slammed the door behind him and flung his coat over the back of the kitchen chair.

You put your book down and hopped up from the couch. “Again? Shit, Eddie, I hate that he keeps doing that to you.” The moment you placed a calming hand to his chest and leaned against his shoulder, you felt him relax beneath your touch. 

He sighed and wrapped his arms around you. “I’m sorry I keep showing up here like this. I just get so pissed at him, and it’s like the only place I can think of to go is here.”

“Yeah?” You laughed softly.

He was quiet for a moment. “Yeah,” he said with such finality that you could feel a shift in the room. 

The way he was looking at you…like you were something special. Like you were something valuable. 

“And why is that, Ed? Why here?” You whispered.

In answer, he leaned down and kissed you. You too had kissed obviously, but this one felt like it meant something different. “Y/N, I’m so fucking in love with you that it’s all I can think about. Even when I’m not thinking about you, I still am. I was so mad at Billy and had to get out of there, and somehow I drove here without even thinking about it. So, yeah, I’m in love with you. I know that wasn’t in the agreement, but I can’t keep going and not tell you this once.”

You could tell he was going to keep rambling, so you decided to muster up the courage and do what you were dying to do. “Eddie!” He stopped and looked at you, visibly anxious. “Eddie, I love you too. I have for so long, and screw the agreement. I want to be with you.”

Eddie’s face lit up and he kissed you again. And again. And then he stopped to why the tears off your cheeks, which you assured him were happy tears. 

“God, I should’ve told you sooner.” You chuckled and leaned your head against his chest. 

He wrapped his arms around you and kissed the top of your head. “Warren would definitely call you a chicken right now, but I wouldn’t stoop that low.”

Even though he couldn’t see it, you rolled your eyes. “You know, I feel like you kind of did by mentioning it, but I’ll let it slide. Besides, I still thought you had feelings for Camila. I didn’t really think it would ever be me.”

Eddie pulled away slightly so he could look you in the eye. “You know I would always choose you, right? You’re it for me, baby. If you’ll have me, anyways.”

“Always, Eddie, always.” 

Y/N Roundtree: We got married like six months after that. 

Eddie: I would’ve married her that night, to be honest.

[somedaylazysomeday]

Experiment - Part Two

Tech x fem!reader

Tech decides to prove how simple female bodies can be.

Can be considered a second part to my one-shot 'Experiment', but can also be read as a stand-alone work.

Rating: Explicit. Minors DNI.

Word Count: 3,800

Warnings: Antagonism, ill-advised bets, assumptions about females, mentions of sexual behavior, sexual touching, fingering, unprotected piv sex, creampie

Previous | Masterlist

---

It wasn’t rare, per se, that you and Tech found yourselves alone. 

Your relationship could be contentious, but it wasn’t anything bad enough that you needed to keep a referee on hand. You found him slightly grating and he thought you were oblivious at times. You also vented some of that low-level irritation by sleeping together every so often, but you had never decided to be anything close to exclusive. 

That being said, Clone Force 99 was busy enough that neither of you had much time for finding another partner. It had been a particularly bad dry spell for you. Which was why you were unashamedly eavesdropping on a few troopers behind you in a market on Savareen.

“Anyway, I told her I wanted to bring someone else with us and she freaked out,” one of the troopers was telling his friends. “She said I wasn’t even good enough to keep her happy, let alone two people at the same time. Can you believe that? Not my fault that making her come is harder than defusing a det on a countdown timer”

Thankfully, you were facing the other direction, because that made you grin broadly. From everything you had heard so far, the relayed statement from the trooper’s girlfriend had been harsh but true. The trooper was a remarkably selfish lover if his stories were to be believed. Personally, you thought the girlfriend had a point. 

“Are you almost finished?” Tech asked. “We need to return to the ship.”

“Shhh!” you hissed. “I want to hear how this plays out.”

You couldn’t be sure whether the troopers had heard you or if they simply weren’t bold enough to tell their friend that his girlfriend was right. In any case, the only answer they offered was a simple, “That sucks, man.”

“Yeah,” the other agreed. “Females are a mystery.”

“We will miss our rendezvous,” Tech warned. 

You huffed at him and went to pay for the basket of produce you were holding. After weeks of nothing but rations, the prospect of fresh fruit and vegetables was something you couldn’t turn down. Still, you were irritated at losing your stolen entertainment and you glared at Tech when he fell into step with you on your way back toward the Havoc Marauder. 

“I don’t know why you were rushing me,” you said eventually. You were passing the last of the small town’s buildings and the forest grew thicker around you. “Hunter sent a comm that the window needed to be pushed back by an hour. They won’t be at the rendezvous for at least two hours and we’re not that far from the ship.” 

“And I don’t know why you were so eager to continue listening to those regs.” Tech shook his head. “It was hardly an interesting story, especially given the trite and untrue assurances at the end. Females are hardly a mystery.” 

Your jaw twitched. “And what exactly does that mean?” 

“Females across most species barriers share several characteristics,” he spouted instantly. “The majority of them prefer to be listened to rather than have their problems solved, prize social bonds rather than holding leverage over others, and are often capable of more complex, circuitous thinking than most males.” 

“They were talking about female bodies, Tech.” 

Tech fell quiet at that. You gloated for a moment, happy to have silenced him for once, but it didn’t last. Apparently, he had needed a moment to consider that, but came back with a reply soon enough: 

“There are too many species to narrow down what he was talking about. Different species have different physiology, and need different stimulation to achieve pleasure.” He adjusted his goggles, and you could see the brightness of his eyes behind them. “For instance, did you know that female Dianogas derive pleasure only from having the pressure in their eyeball increased by a factor of twenty percent?” 

You nodded slowly. “Gross.” 

Tech had been preening at his masterful display of knowledge, but his expression dropped into one of derision when you failed to be as impressed as he thought you should be. “It is far more complex a system than is possessed by most species. Humanoid species are all similar. And human females are the least complex of all.” 

That sounded as if you were being challenged. With the frustration stemming from your recent dry spell and the general irritation of being around Tech when he was in one of his ‘I am the god of all knowledge’ moods, you accepted that challenge. “Go on.” 

“Human females share close similarities to each other, likely stemming from a narrow evolutionary path. Even ignoring the genitals, human females have a set of several extragenital erogenous zones. They are, in descending order: breasts, lips, neck, ears, and buttocks(1).” 

You rolled your eyes, readjusting where your bag sat on your shoulder. “That’s ridiculous. Not everyone likes having all of those places touched.” 

“Not everyone, but a majority,” Tech expanded. “And the type of stimulation can vary between each place. For example, lips are best stimulated orally while breasts can be stimulated either orally or manually. That means manipulated by hand.” 

You hissed at the condescending explanation, but he paid no attention to you. Tech could get this way when he was convinced that someone would benefit from his knowledge. “And that is not taking the actual genitals into account. The human clitoris has over ten thousand nerve fibers, some of which extend into the vaginal channel to form what is known as the g-spot.” 

“I already knew all of this, Tech,” you bit out. Okay, maybe you hadn’t known the exact number of nerve fibers in the average clit, but you didn’t appreciate being lectured on your own body. 

Tech turned to you, raising his eyebrows. “And yet you believed those troopers were correct when they said human females were a mystery. There is nothing mysterious about the body of the human female. If given the proper stimulation, most human females can reach orgasm in under three minutes.” 

“That can’t possibly be true.”

“Are you doubting the research or my knowledge of it?” 

“Are you admitting that you’ve done research into how quickly you can make someone come?” you countered. 

“Of course.” Tech was, as ever, matter-of-fact. “And you personally have benefitted from my research. Yet you still doubt whether I’m correct.”

“I’ve been with some talented people,” you said, making sure to emphasize the plurality so he wouldn’t think you were solely talking about him, “but I’ve never come in less than three minutes. So, according to my personal experience, you’re wrong.” 

“I am not wrong,” Tech disagreed, clearly appalled. “If you don’t believe me, that is your choice, but I am not incorrect.” 

You didn’t answer him, relieved when you saw the Havoc Marauder just ahead. As you had expected, you had plenty of time before you needed to go meet the others, but that meant you could put away the provisions and get some time away from Tech until he started to annoy you less. 

Unfortunately, he didn’t seem capable of letting your disagreement lie. He followed you as you went to the storage room where you kept the rations. “The research is simple and well-supported. Even if you ignore anecdotal evidence, there are clear trends that prove-”

“Tech, can we just let this go?” you asked, trying not to sound overly antagonistic. “We can just agree to have our different opinions.”

“It is not a matter of opinion,” he insisted. “There is a single answer, supported by science, research, and experimentation. I can prove it to you.” 

That made you pause and turn to him. “What? What exactly do you mean by that?”

“Allow me to prove that I am correct,” Tech repeated. 

That was not enough of an answer, so you watched him in silence. There was a strong chance that he meant to show you the papers and studies where he had gathered his information. 

When you didn’t agree, Tech apparently decided to offer more of an explanation: “If you agree, I will use the knowledge I’ve gained to bring you to orgasm in under three minutes.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea-” you started. 

“I understand it can be frightening to have one’s worldview challenged-”

“Yeah, I’m terrified of an orgasm.” The sarcasm was thick in your voice. “You know what? Fine. And when you’re wrong, you’ll have to admit that your research wasn’t as effective as first-hand experience.”

“I look forward to proving you wrong.” Tech took the bag from your shoulder, tucking it neatly inside of the (little-used) produce cabinet in the ration storage room. He latched the cabinet with sure motions, turning expectantly to you when he was finished.

“Bunks,” you suggested. He inclined his head in agreement and followed you to the small barracks aboard the ship.

You shoved aside your sheets and the discarded clothing that was still tangled in them. When you had woken up, it had seemed impossible that you would be bringing anyone back to your bunk, so you hadn’t bothered keeping anything neater than they needed to be. Tech was more than a little messy, himself, so you didn’t worry that he would look down on you for it. 

“How do you want to do this?” you asked, hesitating before you climbed onto the mattress. 

“I do not believe that you undressing should count toward my time,” he pointed out. 

“Fair enough,” you agreed, stripping quickly. You had been dressed casually to visit the nearby market, so the process didn’t take long. When you were naked, you rested your hands on your hips and tilted your chin at Tech. “Next?” 

Tech swallowed hard, like the sight of your bare body had made his mouth go dry. It was a heady feeling, and your confidence soared. 

“Remember what I told you about extragenital erogenous zones?” Tech asked, switching into lecture mode. 

“Yes,” you agreed, adding, “which is not an attractive term, so I don’t think you’re helping your own case, here.” 

“The attractiveness of the term is not what matters.” Tech stepped closer, hand rising. “The important thing is how they impact you.” 

You opened your mouth to loose a sarcastic comment, but stopped short at the feeling of Tech’s fingertips brushing lightly against your bottom lip.

It was… odd, having someone touch your mouth. But the warmth and familiar smell of Tech's skin kept you where you were. You would at least let him have his chance. 

His hand went to your chest, fingers splaying to cup your breast. When you were nestled in his palm, he trailed his fingers together, letting your breast slip under his fingers until they met with a soft pinch on your nipple.

Tech's head tipped closer, letting him mouth at the line of your throat. Those lips traveled upward until he could scrape his teeth lightly over your earlobe. You fought a shiver. 

And then you did anyway, shuddering against him when Tech reached to run his gently squeezing fingers across your ass. 

“Breasts, lips, neck, ears, and buttocks,” he murmured. “Slightly out of order, but have I managed to convince you?” 

“You've managed to waste thirty seconds of your time,” you replied, fighting to keep your voice almost steady. “Two and a half minutes to go and I'm not anywhere near an orgasm.”

“Patience.” 

You frowned at the chastisement, but Tech paid no attention. He guided you down to lay on your bunk, feet on the edge of the mattress supporting your half-bent legs. It left your core exposed to the chill of the air on the ship, and you abruptly realized that those simple touches had left you wet. Not soaking, but well on your way there. 

You watched between your own legs as Tech studied your core. He seemed to be plotting his methods. Before you could remind him again of the time requirement, he brushed gentle fingertips over your labia. 

It felt more intense than you could believe. And when that delicate touch moved to caress your inner lips, you shifted your hips impatiently. 

Tech's attention turned to your clit. His first brush over it was so light that you could hardly feel anything, but he soon grew bolder in his touches. He worked you faster and faster, pausing only to sink two fingers deep into your channel. 

You arched against your bunk, a shocked and plaintive cry leaving you before you could even try to bite it back. 

“Good,” Tech said softly. “I want to hear you. Let me hear that you like what I'm doing.”

You weren't entirely sure how you would have responded to that, because Tech crooked his fingers inside of you and started hunting. Deliberately, he mapped your channel until he zeroed in on a rough, spongy patch on the inside of your front wall. 

A slight smile appeared on Tech's face. You had a moment to think about how handsome it made him before he stole your ability to see. 

He bore down on your g-spot, putting pressure on it until you cried out again. If you had the ability to remember words, you would have told him that it was too much. 

Tech hummed in understanding anyway  and shifted his efforts. His thumb worked against your clit as his fingers started a circular sort of thrusting motion. Your g-spot was still getting more attention than it ever had, but it managed to be less direct - and with that, less intense. 

Just when you started to wonder how close you were to three minutes having passed, Tech's mouth dropped to your hip. He applied lips and teeth to the sensitive crease where your hip met your thigh. 

Your orgasm rose up and swallowed you whole, and you never had a chance to fight against it. One moment, you were treading water in the assault and the next, you were drowning in sensation. 

Dimly, you became aware of the fact that your fingers hurt. With that realization, you came slowly back to your body, letting your stiffened fingers uncurl from where they had been fisted in the sheets. Your thighs unclenched, releasing Tech's hand from where it had been trapped between them. 

His fingers were still working gently inside of you and you gathered your strength to push him away. “How… how long?”

“Two minutes and forty four seconds,” Tech informed you, sounding obnoxiously matter of fact about it. “It likely would have taken less time if I had not stopped to test my understanding of extragenital erogenous zones.”

You would be irritated, but the strength and suddenness of your orgasm had left you largely unable to do anything but stare up at the ceiling. The heaviness of your limbs felt strange without a full buildup of activity, and it almost seemed as if your body was in a state of shock at how quickly the pleasure had been pulled from you. 

“Tech, can- can you-” you trailed off, reluctant to ask him for anything else. Eventually, you settled on, “Water?”

“Of course,” he agreed, instantly on his feet and rushing to get you a canteen.

When he handed you the water, you could watch Tech eyeing how long it took you to accept it, then to raise the canteen to your lips. Even so, he waited until you had finished drinking to ask, “Is something wrong?” 

You lifted one shoulder. “I- no? I don’t think so. It was just weird to come that suddenly. It’s like my body is pissed that there isn’t more.” 

“Do you want me to do it again?” Tech asked. 

You searched for sarcasm or mocking in his tone, but there was only patient curiosity. “Can you.. kiss me?” 

“Gladly.” 

He pressed a kiss to your lips. Then another, kneeling on the bed to reach you more easily. Eventually, he was lying on the bed beside you, all so he could kiss you without putting either of you in an awkward position. One of his hands gently cradled your cheek while you pressed a palm to his chest so you could feel the steady thump of his heartbeat. 

You continued far longer than you had expected, past the solace of a simple kiss and into the realm of need. You didn’t think it was entirely one-sided. Maybe the kiss had started for your benefit, but nothing said Tech couldn’t enjoy it, too. 

And he did. You could tell by the way he squirmed closer, by the heat of him pressed against you, by the steady deepening of the kiss you shared.

“Is this helping?” he asked. 

His eyes were bright with desire, a faint but undeniable rasp edging his voice. Maybe you should let him ask, to help assuage your pride. But you took pity on him instead. “Yes, but it might help more if you made me come again. Slower. The old-fashioned way.” 

Tech started to ask what exactly ‘old-fashioned’ meant. You could hear the question rise behind his parted lips. And yet it faded away before it could be asked, answered by the way you gripped his length through the material covering his lower half.  

His breath shuddered out and his hips twitched, but Tech still asked, “Are you certain-?”

“Yes, if you are.” 

Tech’s response to that was to reach down and grasp the back of your leg, tugging your knee up and over his hip. You were both still cradled by your mattress, but he was perfectly between your thighs. 

“You are stunning,” he told you. 

“You’re still dressed,” you told him. 

Tech paused, glancing down with a mixture of irritation and dread. “A problem I intend to fix momentarily.” 

He pulled away from you, rolling to his feet with his hands already working at the fastenings of his body glove. He had stripped it off in moments and you couldn’t help but be impressed at the efficiency of his movements.

When he slipped back into your bunk, he was all tan skin and subtle musculature. Tech arranged you both the way you had been before the interruption and, without the body glove in the way, the head of him was notched at your entrance. You were noticeably wet from your earlier orgasm, and he started to slip into you simply due to the position and your proximity. 

Tech’s voice was completely unsteady as he asked, “Precisely how slow do you want this to be?” 

“More than three minutes.” 

It may have been a dry witticism, but Tech accepted it like it was the most sincere request he had ever heard. And you couldn’t bring yourself to regret it, not when he pushed into you in a series of shallow thrusts.

When he had bottomed out inside of you, Tech reached to brush a bead of sweat from your temple. “Slow.” 

“Slow,” you confirmed with a nod. 

Tech began to move. He stayed deep inside of you for the most part, using tiny pulses to keep you building toward a reasonably paced orgasm. Occasionally, when he couldn’t help himself, he withdrew further and plunged back into you. Each of those thrusts pushed the breath from your lungs, shocking you no matter how often they happened. 

It wasn’t the frenetic sprint toward pleasure that you had experienced before. Rather than having pleasure ripped mercilessly from your system, Tech’s efforts were coaxing it from you. 

His pelvis rocked against yours, pushing and pulling incrementally inside of you. The bunching of his muscles against your body told you how much he was holding back even as the thick press of him stretched your channel. Compared to the jarring shock of your rushed orgasm, this pleasure felt utterly lazy and self-indulgent.

And you didn’t seem to be the only one who thought so. 

When Tech wasn’t watching you intently, his eyes fell closed and his brow furrowed as if he needed to concentrate so he could process everything he was experiencing. After one particularly deep pulse, your body tightened. It wasn’t your second orgasm - not yet - but it was a warning that another one was coming. 

Tech’s eyes flew open and he made a rough, helpless sound. Ridiculously, that was the thing that finally pushed you over the edge. The fact that you could pull such pleasure from him even without the extensive research he had done into erogenous zones - genital or otherwise - made you feel extraordinarily powerful. And, of course, it didn’t hurt that he was such a gorgeous man. 

In any case, you gasped a warning a half-second before your body clamped down around his. Tech kept going, working you through it, and it only pushed you higher. The pleasure went from silver to a blazing white, blinding in its intensity and almost painful. 

It was hard to come down when Tech’s rhythm was speeding up, but you could tell he was close by the wrinkle between his eyebrows. “Where-?”

“My implant is still good.” 

Tech’s lips parted and his brows furrowed, but you couldn’t see any more of his face than that. By the time he started to spill inside of you, he had buried his face in your neck. His arms wrapped around you, squeezing hard enough that it took extra time for you to catch your breath. 

When the desperate thrusts finally stopped, Tech fell utterly boneless against you. You sympathized as you slumped against the bed. You dozed lightly, rousing only when you felt him pressing his lips against your shoulder. 

You chuckled lightly, glancing down just in time to catch his eyes flicking up toward you. “You okay?” 

“Rather wonderful, actually,” he admitted, his lips still brushing your skin as he spoke. “And you?” 

“Good,” you said, wincing slightly as he moved against your core. “I’ll be sore, I think.”  

“I shouldn't be surprised.” Tech gingerly moved away from you, the stickiness of your activities trying to keep you together. “I'll see if we have any bacta.” 

“Bacta can't do anything about soreness,” you reminded him. Of course, as the Bad Batch's makeshift medic, he was well aware of the limitations of bacta. “Save it for the next mission.” 

Tech's head snapped toward you as your eyes widened. “The rendezvous!” 

Weak-kneed and as bare as the day he was decanted, Tech sprinted for the front of the Havoc Marauder. 

You braced against the shift of liftoff, then started gathering his clothing and a washcloth for him. Hunter would know what had happened, of course, but there was no need to be blatant.

---

Author's Note -

I can't remember if this is a first for me, but it's definitely in character for me as a person: I referenced an actual paper posted in 2016 to get Tech's information about the extragenital erogenous zones. I'm posting the citation below in case anyone wants to read it! I thought it was very interesting, even if you just read the abstract.

Thanks for reading! Feel free to let me know what you thought!

Younis, Ihab, et al. "Female hot spots: extragenital erogenous zones." Human Andrology, vol. 6, no. 1, Mar. 2016, pp. 20-26, www.ingentaconnect.com/content/wk/xha/2016/00000006/00000001/art00004.

[makethatelevenrings]

Angel By the Wing - Twenty-Nine

Just in case you weren't aware, this blog is unequivocally in support of the liberation of Palestine.

Series Masterlist (Mobile Masterlist)

“Mom, what the hell are you doing here?” Jennifer watched as her son carefully pulled away from the two people he had been wrapped around. He stumbled around the bar and tentatively hugged her. God, she remembered when Jake was a skinny stick of a boy. His physique was all Daniel, but his heart was purer than both her or that man.

“You called, Jacob. Of course I was going to come. I wanted to see what was going on.”

Jake glanced over his shoulder at the two people trying to look casual in the way they pretended to ignore them. The man, tall and broad shouldered, held a guarded expression in his gaze as he studied the Seresins. The woman next to him was a lot shyer than she had been before the boy’s arrival. One of her hands had drifted down to rest on her shirt-covered stomach and Jennifer was sharply reminded as to why she was here.

“I didn’t say anything about needing to come down here. I was planning on inviting you and Liz, yeah, but I just needed some time to get acclimated,” Jake explained. “I don’t have the guest room set up or food prepared. I didn’t even take time off work bu-”

Jennifer cut him off. “I have an AirBnB rented for a month.”

“What? A month? Mom, I-”

“You call me and tell me that you knocked a girl up but it’s fine, you three are going to raise the baby together. Jacob, I didn’t even know you were seeing anyone until now, not to mention two people. Forgive me for being a little concerned that this was a rushed decision.”

Jake shut his mouth, his jaw clenching tightly. He inhaled deeply and looked over her head at the crowd of people that were starting to fill up the room.

“You didn’t need to come all the way here and uproot your life. We’re fine. The three of us are figuring it out together.”

“Figuring it out? Jake, this is a baby. Not an Ikea dresser, for God’s sake!”

Jake’s gaze darted over to the bartender once more and he softened at the look on her face. Something akin to determination mixed with worry seeped into the green eyes the same shade as hers.

“Let me drive you to your place, Mom. We can talk more there.”

Jennifer had figured that’s what he would offer, which is precisely why she ordered her Uber to drop her off at the bar he had so affectionately told her was the place he met the woman he knocked up. 

God, this was a fucking mess.

She never expected to be a grandmother, to be honest. Liz was entirely focused on her career as an attorney and, despite not telling her mother yet, seemed to prefer partners of the same sex. Jennifer couldn’t care less about who her daughter was sleeping with, as long as she was safe and happy. Jacob, on the other hand, had made it apparent that he wasn’t the type to have a family. She knew that both of her kids batted for the other team in some way since they were younger, even if Daniel was a shitbag homophobe. But Jake never once brought anyone home to meet her. He never took a girl to more than one dance or talked about a guy more than once to her. He was a one and done kind of guy.

So when Jake called her and said he knocked a girl up that he’s only known for a few months, she booked the first flight out to San Diego. Because that did not sound like her son at all.

Jake stepped away from her to address the two people still watching them. He said something quietly enough that Jennifer couldn’t hear, but then raised his voice.

“I’ll be home before you two so I can make sure someone goes to bed on time,” he said, his voice lighter than it had been the entire time he had spoken to Jennifer. A small smile grew on the bartender’s face and she rolled her eyes.

“It’s not my fault that Sweet Pea likes QVC,” she retorted.

“Yeah, well, Sweet Pea also needs to let her momma get some sleep,” Jake said. He nodded at the man and then grabbed Jennifer’s suitcases and silently led the way towards the parking lot.

Aside from the address she gave him and the quiet voice of the navigation system, the drive was silent. Jennifer took that as a chance to both look around at San Diego and think about her own life.

In the small Texas town she grew up in, it was expected that you served the Lord, married young, and had babies. Daniel was the quintessential All-American guy. He was a church-going quarterback who helped old ladies cross the street and made Jennifer feel like the luckiest girl in all the world because he chose her. She had dreams of leaving that small town, but getting pregnant during her senior year of high school quashed any plans she had of moving to a big city. Instead, she and Daniel had a shotgun wedding and a hasty life thrown together. By the time she realized that he was a monster, Jennifer had a baby in a town where it was expected that you grin and bear it for the children.

Fuck that. Fuck all of that.

Jennifer Seresin had made a lot of choices in her life. Some good, many bad, but all of them couldn’t top her decision to raise her two children with the kindest of hearts. Elizabeth and Jake were the lights of her life, especially through the dark times. Jake had been their saving grace in getting away from that shitbag ex-husband of hers. But he shouldn’t have had to.

The guilt of her failure ate at her. She should have left Daniel years earlier. She should have never let her kids feel their father’s anger. She should have done a million things to make their lives better and yet she failed them over and over. 

She would not let Jake make the same mistakes she did.

Your feet ached as you climbed the few steps up to the front porch. The world was winding down thanks to the late hour, but the soft glow emanating from inside the house let you know that at least one of your boys was still awake.

The door creaked slightly on its hinges and you made a mental note to have Jake fix that one day. Maybe you could convince the boys to do projects around the house while shirtless. It would be your own personal porno.

“Hey,” you greeted Jake quietly. He tore his gaze away from the baseball game that was clearly a rerun and looked at you. A small smile graced his handsome face, but you could see the underlying tension that rested there. You set your purse down and toed off your shoes before winding around the couch to settle in beside him.

“Roo asleep?” you asked. He nodded and pressed his cheek against the top of your head. His whole body held taut as a bowstring and you wished you had some magic wand that would make him relax. 

“How was work?” It was a clear deflection and the two of you knew it. You craned your head up so you could see his face better and sighed.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” you said. It was more of a demand than a question, but you softened your voice to not make him anymore skittish. Jake released a heavy sigh and then shrugged.

“Roo and I kinda got into it when he got home. He said I dumped this on you two but I didn’t even know she was coming.”

“I know that. And he knows that. He’s just thrown off kilter. I won’t lie and say I wasn’t surprised too.”

He pressed a kiss to your temple. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, no apologies. She seems nice, by the way.”

Jake huffed out a laugh. “When she’s not interrogating you, maybe.”

You rubbed your nose along the length of his jaw and pressed a delicate kiss to his pulse. Something warm and bright bloomed in his chest and he tugged you closer to him. Jake inhaled the sweet scent of you, some odd mixture of beer, flowers, and sea salt. Coupled with the heady taste of Rooster–oil, sweat, and sun–that soaked into the townhome, Jake found himself sinking into you.

“C’mon Tex. Let’s go to bed before you fall asleep on the couch,” you teased.

“You’re one to talk,” he grumbled. You giggled and shifted so you were straddling his hips, arms lacing over his shoulders and clasping around his neck. He fumbled for the remote and somehow turned off the TV before he slid an arm under your butt and hauled the both of you off the couch. Your grip tightened just slightly, but you trusted that he wouldn’t drop you.

Jake remembers the night he met you. You and your bright eyes, devilish smirk, and sharp tongue. He had his fair share of people that he welcomed into his bed, but there was something about you that captivated him. Maybe it was the fact that you didn’t take his shit, much like another man he had known years earlier.

Maybe it was the way you loved the taste of his pancakes, his music, and his kisses.

You shushed him as he got closer to the bedroom and he gently set you down so you could stumble in and blindly search for the dresser to steal some of their clothes. Jake slipped away to check the locks and windows before he returned to find you snuggled in the middle, one of Rooster’s arms thrown around your waist.

“You didn’t waste any time, did you, angel?” he whispered. That traitorous part of his mind let his mother’s words filter in. What happens if the baby isn’t his? What happens if the baby isn’t his and you two decide you don’t need him? That you don’t want him? Can he handle that? Can he handle this dream being shattered?

“Why don’t you shut up, strip, and get in here too?” Rooster’s tired voice filled the darkened bedroom and you hid your smile against the pillow before you reached out for Jake. The blond tugged off his shirt and threw his shorts somewhere in the direction of the closet before he climbed into bed. You threw your arm over his neck and settled your face against his chest. Rooster’s fingers brushed over Jake’s bicep and he welcomed the touch.

He couldn’t fall asleep for a long time.

Tag List:

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[ripplestitchskein]

To be a bit clearer about my issue with the tweet that I talked about in this post as I was posting in the car on the way home (I was not driving but had to do it fast because I get super motion sick) and have had some time to expand a bit:

If we’re talking about the general concept “Stolas set the parameters of the initial sexual transaction thus rooting their relationship in sex from the start and because Blitz is too self loathing and willfully blind to see the desired parameters have changed it is Stolas who made their relationship all about sex in large part because Blitz was never going to be in a healthy enough space to be the one to change it” then yes I agree with the sentiment.

Stolas could have simply said “I’ll let you use the grimoire in exchange for a date” instead of jumping straight to sexual relationship and they could have gotten to know each other first, maybe one date for each Full Moon*. So yes, he did make it this way, he set the terms. At the start of the show.

(*Side note: This would be a super cute fanfic premise tbh and if the show did something like that, where they need to exchange something and say “Hey, how about we make a deal to go on a date on the Full Moon” it would be a really fucking adorable way to reconcile them *starry eyes*. Just think about how much that would slap. The narrative circle of that would be *chef’s kiss*. )

My problem with the framing of “Stolas started it that way in Murder Family, was super over the top horny for a few episodes, now he must suffer the consequences despite the fact that he has been trying to change their dynamic since Blitz expressed how he felt in Ozzie’s” is that, the events of The Circus completely recontextualize the deal we see made and Stolas’s behavior.

We, the audience, didn’t know in S1 that Blitz initiated the whole thing and that Stolas was just mirroring that energy, so I am extremely understanding of this perception pre-S2. Even up until Western Energy, but by Oops we have enough evidence to show Stolas has been trying, Blitz is just refusing. So Stolas didn’t “make it this way” for where the characters are NOW. Not in a “It is Blitz’s fault” taking sides in the divorce way, but in a “This is about character growth or the deliberate lack of it within the story” way.

My big issue with the tweet now, and didn’t learn until I read the tags of a lovely person is that is apparently from an individual who actually works on the show. And that is….kinda concerning to me. A bit.

The idea that Stolas’s efforts count for nothing because he set the initial deal and behaved badly at the start, that we the audience should still see the current dynamic as “Stolas making everything sexual” is a problem 8 episodes into the 2nd season. We have many examples of him not doing that any longer, he has changed, we the audience have been shown that change. Why is it still being framed this way by the actual creative team?

I don’t know how animation production works, so I’m not sure if the people who work as animators are given the whole picture or not. I don’t even know they are fans necessarily, or if they get their individual parts to work on and that’s it. I have zero background info on how these meetings are conducted. I am not coming from a position of authority in this regard.

Setting aside the dismissal of Stolas’s character growth this season. framing it this way undermines the journey Blitz is on too. At this point in the story he is refusing to acknowledge Stolas’s earnest attempts, his willful ignorance is not a funny gag but a reflection of his character and state of mind. It is implied his own trauma and self loathing make him unable to believe what has being explicitly told to him. This confrontation is the tipping point for further development in one direction or another. His choice now is to continue to ignore it and lose Stolas entirely or to try and work through it in some way. By implying Stolas is the one who created thier current situation way back in S1 implies Blitz’s ignorance of Stolas’s feelings is not because of character’s motivations and his own choices to ignore it but simply because it was that way at the start and it is immutable. Stolas said “sex for book please” and “jelly sandwiches” and Blitz was just “I’m just doing what he said he wanted, now he’s coming out of nowhere with this feelings stuff” when a huge part of showing the audience that it is Blitz’s self loathing driving the conflicts in his life is that he refuses to believe the truth of the situation which is it wasn’t Stolas making it all about sex at all. That Stolas has been trying and Blitz keeps shutting it down because of his issues.

That just seems like a crucial part of what we’re doing here? Yes Stolas creates the situation in S1 but he went out of his way to do the opposite in S2.

Obviously this individual’s qualifications for interpretation, being an actual employee, trump my “I’ve watched it a bunch and obsess over it constantly” credentials by a long shot. But my concern is to have a meeting of people responsible for creating the show reflect this sentiment after what we’ve seen in S2 so far is just a little baffling to me?

Either those attempts by Stolas portrayed on screen and the change in his behavior towards Blitz after he realizes his feelings are meaningless in the face of first impressions being everything to both Blitz and the audience. If that is the case I’m not sure why they would be included if the end result interpretation is still “Stolas horny. Made it all about sex. The end.”

Or, I am misreading something, either the tweet itself or the canon text. This is very possible, tweets being an imperfect communication tool and myself being an imperfect person. But as I stated in the original post, if we’re accounting for what is shown on screen as being how we should interpret the characters, Stolas has been trying for months to shift gears and Blitz is the one who continues to frame it as “just sex”. So I just find the tweet completely out of touch with the narrative we’re consuming.