#he can appreciate a nice car but after a while it just. yeah

[a-cat-in-toffee]

okay chat im not a super huge car guy geenrally i dont know much about them. but what type of car do we think suck rand would drive? because on one hand rand driving a shitty fucking station wagon would be fucking hilarious but also maybe nbr would only have one car? and the three of them would argue for a while but probably settle on something that wouldnt stand out too much but is still very pretty like a chevy impala (nonbiased statement) or a mercury marquis (another totally nonbiased statement) from around the 60s-70s (rand insists on a tape/CD player)

[traveler-at-heart]

Doctor's In - Part 8

Summary: It's Thanksgiving, your first official holiday with Wanda. Someone stops by to create a little havoc.

Wanda Maximoff x F!R

All the houses look the same, at least to him. The navigation system in his rental car isn’t any better.

Or maybe his sister gave him a fake address just to mess with him.

After a while, he decides it’s enough, pulling over when he sees someone jogging around the neighborhood.

“Excuse me”

“Hey” the woman says, stopping. Her smile is wide, and Pietro’s taken aback by how friendly she seems with a stranger.

“I’m looking for an address, can you help me out?”

“Sure”

“It’s Hill Drive 216”

“Right, well all you have to do is drive straight ahead for five blocks. Then turn right and then left” the woman says, leaning over the car window. As she’s giving directions, he can’t help but stare at her toned legs in full display.

“I really appreciate it. Maybe I can buy you some coffee to thank you?”

“Sure. See ya around” she says with a smirk, running in the opposite direction. Pietro didn’t get her number, but he figures she might know Wanda. So they’ll meet again.

In no time, he finds Wanda’s house. The woman is already sitting in the porch, as if she can feel her twin brother coming.

“This was supposed to be a surprise. You don’t look surprised”

“You asked my neighbor for my address. She called to know if you were a creep so she’d call the cops on you”

“What? She was so nice. And she’s very hot. You should have told me you had hot neighbors”

Wanda gives him a cryptic smile, but he doesn’t have time to ask the meaning behind it, as Tommy and Billy come running down the stairs.

“Uncle Pietro!”

“Bratan” he says, allowing the boys to tackle him to the ground. “You’re so big! What is your mom feeding you two?”

The boys laugh, pulling him inside so they can tell him all about school, soccer and their videogames.

A half hour later, there’s a knock at the door.

“I’ll get it” he volunteers. To his surprise, the girl he spoke to earlier is on the other side. She’s now wearing jeans and a long sleeved sweater.

“Hey, Pietro”

“I didn’t… tell you my name”

But before he can connect the dots, Wanda walks past him, standing on her toes to kiss the woman.

“Hey, baby. Apparently you already met Pietro”

“Oh, yeah. Heard he was hoping to get a hot date out of some simple directions”

At that, his sister and her girlfriend let out a laugh, and he groans, hiding his face in his hands.

—

It was totally worth it, to see Pietro’s face as realization hit him. You were Wanda’s girlfriend.

He looks shocked, and embarrassed as you walk past him, Wanda’s hand in yours.

“At least the Maximoffs have consistency in their taste” you comment, making Wanda laugh and Pietro blushes.

“She never sent me a picture of you, ok? How was I to know?”

“I didn’t send it because I knew you’d fall for her and she is all mine” Wanda rolls her eyes, arms around your waist. You kiss her temple, smiling.

“Are you staying for Thanksgiving?” you ask, curious about his plans for the holidays.

“That’s the idea”

“You’re little buddy Rogers isn’t joining us?” you glare, so he knows you know what he tried to do.

“Oh, yeah. Heard you felt threatened by him. Still jealous, Y/N?”

“Jealous? I’m a Trauma surgeon, for goodness sake. What is your job, by the way? Snowboarding? Or do you call it snow? You know, like Ken in the Barbie movie”

“It gets me all the girl’s phone numbers” he arches an eyebrow.

“You certainly didn’t get mine”

“Stop it” Wanda laughs it off to ease the tension, standing between you two. “It’s Thanksgiving. The holidays. A time to forgive and enjoy”

“Fine,” he agrees. “Truce?”

“Not until you take the kids for a movie so we have an afternoon to ourselves” you say, because now that you’re back to work it’s been harder to get alone time with your girlfriend.

“Alright”

—

“It’s very important to me” Wanda says, stuttering lightly as you kiss down her neck.

“Of course, baby” you say, holding her hips as she tries to continue the conversation. She’s saying something against your lips, so you roll her nipple between your fingers, which makes her quiet for a few minutes.

Then, you’re between her legs when she starts talking again.

“He’s my brother, we’ve known each other our whole lives. I really want him to get to know you”

“Wanda” you sigh, defeated. You look up, with a smile at her disheveled state. “Can we not talk about your brother when I’m eating you out?”

“Sorry”

You kiss her thighs, going up to lie next to her.

“Or am I that bad at giving you head these days, baby?”

“It’s not that” she rushes to say, straddling your lap. Wanda pecks your lips to appease you, hands going up and down your arms. You squeeze her hips, encouraging her to continue. “But I mean it, I want you to get along”

“I was joking before. Mostly”

“Y/N” she whines and you smile.

“Ok, I just feel… the last time we almost broke up because he was trying to test me using Steve, right? I’m a bit butthurt about it, you know I’m proud and petty like that. And I’m not… I’ve never met someone’s family. I told you I’m not good with this relationship stuff”

“All you have to do is try” she says, leaning down to kiss you. “And absolutely nothing will break us apart, my love”

“Promise?”

“Swear” she says against your lips. You kiss her again, hands going down to her ass.

“Can I carry on now or would you like to talk about more family members?”

“Carry on” Wanda giggles when you flip her on her back, but those turn to moans pretty soon, feeling how your tongue works through her folds.

—

“Ok, guys, just like we practiced” Pietro says as he parks in the street, looking at the twins. They nod, staying inside the car while their uncle walks to the door.

“Hey, sestra… ah, seriously?!”

All he sees as he walks in is his sister’s head thrown back on the couch, and he can guess where you are.

“I thought you locked the door” Wanda reprimands you, but you just smirk, getting dressed. You make sure that only Pietro is within earshot when you smack Wanda’s ass, and she yelps.

The man is glaring when Wanda opens the door, her hair a mess and your shirt all wrinkled.

“Where are the kids? Why are they waiting in the car?”

In that moment, the twins open the car door, and you can see they are carrying a small, white dog. You want to cackle, because Pietro is so dead. But you keep a neutral expression, staying behind Wanda.

“You idiot” Wanda says, followed by a string of curses in Sokovian. You’ve never seen her this upset and it’s kinda hot.

“Come on, kids. Let’s go back to my place and bathe this little dude”

“No, please don’t leave me alone with her” Pietro pleads as Wanda pulls him by the ear.

“Sorry, I don’t want to be a witness to whatever it is she’ll do to you” you give him finger guns, hurrying back to take the kids to your place. It’s pretty obvious Wanda won’t appreciate you using her bathtub to take care of the pup.

“So, wanna tell me what happened?” you say once you’re in the bathroom.

“Well, we found Sparky outside the cinema. He was looking for food in the garbage and was so sad and alone”

“Do you think Mom will let us keep him?” Tommy says.

“Let’s take him to the vet tomorrow. Maybe he escaped home and his owners are looking for him”

The boys remain silent as you rinse the soap from Sparky’s fur. Of course, he shakes as soon as you’re done, drops of water flying everywhere. Billy and Tommy laugh, which makes you smile.

They had never brought up the subject of pets, but you have a feeling that it’s because Wanda had told them that the answer was going to be no, no matter what.

You use an old t-shirt and your blow dryer to get him all fluffy. He is a cute dog, that’s for sure.

“Come on, let’s get back home” you tell the kids, letting Tommy carry Sparky.

Pietro is in the porch, hand on his cheek as he sulks around the stairs. His ear is so red from all the pulling that Wanda did and you almost want to laugh.

“She won’t talk to me” he mumbles like a grumpy teenager.

“Jeez, I wonder why”

You walk inside, going straight to Wanda’s room. Still, you knock and let her know it’s you.

“Hey, love. Woah” as soon as you open the door she’s hugging you, and you don’t know if her tears are from anger or sadness. “I’m here, what’s wrong?”

“Pietro is so… immature! Why would he think it’s a good idea to bring a dog into my home? He is always like this. Now, I’ll have to tell the kids we can’t keep him and they will hate me”

“Wanda, they won’t hate you. Breathe for me” you run your hands up and down her back. “Here’s what we’ll do. Tomorrow I will drive with the kids to the vet, they’ll check for a microchip or anything else that tells us if he has a family”

“They always wanted a pet and I just couldn’t do it, it was too much work for one person and I…”

“And you are not alone anymore, ok? You have me. And as it happens, my family’s always had dogs. Don’t stress, leave it to me” you say, kissing her temple.

“Thank you. I’m staying here. Can you make sure the kids have dinner?”

“Of course, baby”

You make a couple of sandwiches and let the kids eat in the living room, while Sparky walks around and smells everything. It’s a good sign that he’s not peeing in every surface of the house.

Once the kids have dinner, you take the dog to the backyard, noticing the wooden fence needs some work, or Sparky will be able to escape.

Another thing on your list.

“Is Mom mad at us?” Billy asks when you’re upstairs, tucking them in. Sparky is in the corner, sleeping between Tommy’s shoes.

“Not at all, kiddo. She’s just not sure we can take care of Sparky. Dogs can be a lot of work, ya know?”

“Did you have dogs?” Tommy says from his bed and you nod.

“Yeah, we had all kinds of dogs. Big ones, small like Sparky. You have to walk them, feed them, take them to the doctor…”

“Maybe it is a lot of work” Billy says, dropping his shoulders.

“Hey, no worries, we will figure it out. Just make sure you’re nice to your mom. She just wants the best for everyone. Rest now. And Sparky doesn’t sleep on anyone’s bed, got it?”

The kids giggle at that, and you roll your eyes, knowing they’ll probably break that rule.

—

“We’re home” you announce.

“How did it go?” Wanda says, while Pietro is in the living room, pretending to read.

“No microchip. But he did get blood work and everything seems fine, we also got him dewormed and he can start with vaccination in two weeks”

“You know a lot about dogs” Pietro says, but shuts his mouth the minute Wanda turns to glare.

“So, yeah. We could call a shelter and ask if they can take him”

“But he would be in one of those cages, alone” Wanda says, sounding sad.

“I guess”

“Let’s just keep him until we figure something out” she decides, looking as the kids play with the dog in the front yard.

“Yeah, ok. We got him some kibble, plates, a new leash and a bed, so he’s all set. I’ll just have to fix the fence”

“Oh? Will you wear your tool belt?” she says, biting her lip. Pietro gags from his place in the couch. Wanda turns to scold him. “Keep it up and you’re staying in a hotel”

“Bossy. And mean. I love it” you say, pulling her closer. You share a quick, but passionate kiss.

“I could fix the fence” Pietro offers.

“You don’t even know how to drive a nail,” Wanda argues.

“I’m trying to do something nice, sestra”

“You’ve done enough”

They begin to argue like a couple of teenagers so you have to step between them, raising your hands.

“Enough. Pietro can help me when I fix the fence. We all win. Isn’t that great? Two of your favorite people working together” you say.

“Only one” Wanda says and Pietro is ready to fight when you snap your fingers.

“To your corner, Pietro” you warn him, dragging Wanda to the kitchen. “Hey, gorgeous”

“Mmm?” she melts when you rub that spot in her lower back that always relaxes her.

“I don’t think Pietro meant to do any harm with this. At most, he thought you’d end up loving Sparky more than me” Wanda laughs, and she leans against you. “He’s visiting and you’re always talking about how much you miss him, so try to forgive him”

“You’re right”

“You sound surprised,” you joke, kissing her softly. “I have work. I’ll be back tomorrow, ok?”

“Don’t leave. I know nothing about dogs” she pleads.

“I’m always one call away, love of my life” you promise.

—

Five missed calls. You sigh when you leave the OR, though it is from an unknown number.

Before you can return the call or contact Wanda to make sure she’s fine, Darcy finds you, dragging you by the hand without any explanation.

“Does this belong to you?” she says, pulling the curtain to reveal Pietro, holding an ice pack against his right hand.

“It belongs to my girlfriend”

“It? Seriously?” he complains, but Darcy ignores him.

“Came in with hammered fingers and cries every time I try to examine him”

“I will take a look. Thanks, pal” you force him to remove the ice pack, ignoring his protests. “What happened?”

“I tried to fix the fence”

“Mhm” you bend his fingers and move them around, trying to check if there’s a fracture. He complains and tries to jank his hand back, but you don’t let him.

“Can’t you take some X-Rays?”

Now, where’s the fun in that?

“Honestly, I think you’ll just have some swelling and pain. Let’s put a bandage in those three fingers and make sure you don’t move them too much”

“At least Wanda’s less mad at me”

You smile.

“Glad to hear it. Did she drive you here?”

“No, I wasn't in the mood to be lectured. I just told her I needed something from the hardware store and came straight to the ER”

You nod, writing a prescription for him. Once you’re done, you take the hand, bandaging the three fingers together.

“You know, I just worry” he interrupts the silence.

“About what?”

“Well, has she ever told you about the twins’ father?”

You glance back at him, arching an eyebrow.

“No, and I respect that. If she ever feels like telling me, I’m sure she will. So I’d appreciate it if we keep it at that, Pietro”

“I’ll just say, he was the biggest asshole. And it almost destroyed her. I promised myself no one would hurt her again”

You nod, still working in silence. Of course, the shovel talk. After the stunt he pulled with Rogers, this is nothing, really. Going along and nodding a few times might just do the trick.

“To be fair, I never liked him. You’re fine, I guess”

“I can live with being just fine in the eyes of Frosty the snowman” you mutter, finishing the bandaging and giving him some pills. “Now go back home and let me take care of the fence when I’m there”

An ambulance parks right outside of the ER and you excuse yourself. You don’t notice Pietro hanging back, watching as you help the paramedics move a woman from their gurney to a hospital bed.

It isn’t until a few hours later when you’re out of the OR and see a text from Wanda that you remember the incident.

Wanda: Thank you for checking Pietro.

Y/N: Happy to help the evil twin, love.

Wanda: What would that make me? The good twin?

Y/N: The hot, beautiful, angel twin.

The sound of your pager snaps you back to reality, which means the last hours of your shift will be busy.

—

“I should go and help”

“Please, don’t”

Wanda and Pietro are sitting in the backyard’s deck, watching as you fix the fence.

“Did you get Sparky as a test? To see how she’d react?”

“That is actually a great idea but no” Pietro laughs, stretching his arms. “I can’t believe you don’t remember”

“Remember what?”

“We were at school, back in Sokovia when we were five or six. The teacher asked us to draw our pet, but we didn’t have one so…”

“So you drew a dragon and said you wanted one for our birthday” Wanda suddenly remembers, frowning. “But what did I draw?”

“A white dog, with a very pink nose and fuzzy hair. And when we were at the theater, I saw him and thought, that’s my sister’s dog”

Wanda laughs, trying not to cry at her brother’s antics, wiping the corner of her eyes before she gets emotional. She reaches for his hand and he squeezes it, smiling.

“Why haven’t you told her about how you had the twins?” Pietro asks after a while, his voice soft.

“Because… I’m afraid she’ll see me differently. And I don’t know if it’s worth it, dwelling in the past. It’s done and nothing can change it”

“It’s not about dwelling in the past, it’s about sharing everything that makes you who you are. And that’s a big part of it” Pietro insists, standing up when the boys show up with Sparky. “We’re going to the park. See you for dinner”

Wanda stays on the deck, watching as you finish replacing the last wooden panel.

“I am so ready for a shower and a nap” you sigh, plopping down next to her. “At least Sparky can be out safely now”

“How can I pay for your very hard work?” Wanda says, and your hand squeezes her thigh.

“I can think of a few ways, Mrs. Maximoff. But when I’m not all sweaty”

“You’ll have to leave the toolbelt on, though” she says, making you laugh as you kiss the spot behind her ear.

You enjoy the breeze as you sit together on the deck, drinking a beer while Wanda looks out her yard.

“If I told you something, would you promise not to judge me?”

“I would never, my love” you say, putting a strand of hair behind her ear gently. “What is it?”

“It’s about the twins”

“Uh. Did Pietro put you up for this?” you click your tongue. “You don’t have to tell me anything; whatever the situation is, I imagine it’s not easy”

“I think… It would help explain why he’s so protective of me. And I want you to know, I do”

“Alright, then. I’m listening”

It takes her a moment to gather her thoughts, looking at her clasped hands.

“We met in college” she begins. “I was 20 and he was on an exchange program. Came from Oxford University, I think. We were in different faculties but somehow crossed paths at a party and got talking. It was the first time I was in love”

“He was elegant and acted like a gentleman, and said funny things without being crass. He acted differently than the rest of guys I ever tried to date. So we were together the whole semester, until winter break came. I was considering inviting him over to spend Christmas with us when he got an unexpected visit from his fiance”

You breathe deeply, knowing where this is going. Wanda still won’t look at you, and she takes a moment to continue.

“Uhm. So, yeah. The minute I saw them together I wanted to scream, but all I could do was hide. I felt like such an idiot. He didn’t even try to find me and apologize. And for a few weeks I was… sick. I threw up every morning, and felt tired. But I thought it was stress”

“Wanda, I’m so sorry” you say, pulling her close and kissing her temple. She leans against you, letting your touch ground her. Wanda’s hand goes to hold your own, and you squeeze it, trying to show your support.

“When I realized what it was, I tried talking to him. I thought he at least deserved to know. But he just wanted to give me some money to deal with it, in his words”

Those words make your heart ache, but you grit your teeth. You admire Pietro’s self control more than ever.

“I’m gonna need you to give me a name so I can find him and kill him”

“I let that go, for my sake. I had two babies to care for. No matter how it happened, I knew I always wanted them. So I told my parents everything and then Pietro, well…”

“He went crazy, I can imagine. Can’t really blame him”

“So, now you know it all. I still have things to figure out, because sometimes the kids ask me about their father and I don’t know how to tell them he never cared about us” she sighs, leaning against you.

“We’ll figure it out together, when the time comes” you promise, kissing her cheek. “And you don’t have to be afraid of me judging you, you did nothing wrong, Wands. I’m so sorry you had to go through that”

“I just thought… I wanted you to know”

“Did you ever see him again? I mean, does he even know their names?”

“No, and I hope it stays that way. If he comes back, I don’t want him anywhere near Tommy and Billy” her voice shakes with emotion, and a bit of her accent comes back.

“That’s ok. We won’t let it happen” you promise, kissing her temple.

“I love you”

“I love you too. And our boys”

“And our dog” she says, which makes you look back at her. She smiles at your shocked expression. “We’re keeping Sparky. No further comment”

“Yes, Ma’am”

—

The twins couldn’t believe it when Wanda told them they could keep Sparky. Pietro smiled as the kids hugged their mother, promising to always take care of him.

“You’re the best mom ever!” Tommy says, running around the living room.

“You’re welcome” Pietro mocks as he walks past her, and she elbows him.

You spend the evening watching a movie in the living room, Sparky sitting between both boys.

The 36 hour shift, coupled with the work on the backyard leaves you exhausted, so 15 minutes into the movie you begin to fall asleep.

“Come on, sweetheart” Wanda says when your head keeps loling to the side. “You need to rest”

“No, but I wanna know what happens with Big Welder” you mumble. Wanda stands up, kissing your forehead and pulling you all the way to the stairs. After brushing your teeth and almost sleeping while standing up, you plop down in bed, taking everything off and deciding to sleep in nothing but your underwear.

“Very tempting” Wanda comments when she sees you.

“I thought you’d be watching the movie” you stretch, appreciating how Wanda’s eyes linger on your breasts.

“Uh, they started playing video games. So that was my cue to go” she crawls into bed with you, not ready to go to sleep but wanting to share some alone time. “Before I forget, who are you inviting for Thanksgiving?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, dinner. We’re having turkey, the Barton’s are stopping by…. You do know it’s this Thursday, right?”

“I haven’t had a Thanksgiving dinner in like 15 years”

“You’re kidding” Wanda says, and you shrug your shoulders.

“I started volunteering when I was 16 to avoid being home. And you know I rarely went back for that stuff. I think the most I’ve done is eat pizza with Darcy while we’re working”

“Well, Darcy should come too! Have her over, I only get to see her at the hospital”

“You sure?” you say, smiling nervously. All you know about holidays in the last decade has been the chaos of a hospital.

“Yeah. It’s gonna be great, you’ll love it” she promises, kissing you.

—

Chaos isn’t exclusive to the ER, it seems. You’ve had a busy morning, mowing the lawn, cleaning the deck and getting ready to set a large table for everyone who’s joining. To your annoyance, Pietro is using his bruised hand as an excuse to not help.

“You’re doing great” he gives you a thumbs up and you want to throw the broom straight to his head.

“You could help your sister in the kitchen” you say, wiping the sweat from your forehead and coming to look over his shoulder. “Tinder? Seriously?”

“Yeah, check this out” he says, showing you some of the matches he’s had.

“Oh, wow” you whistle at a picture of a blonde woman in a bikini. You’re about to comment something else when you hear a cough behind you. Of course, Wanda is staring, her signature head tilt letting you know you’re in danger.

“I mean, oh, wow, what a horrible, unattractive person. Blegh. So not my type” you say, pretending to gag.

“I’m only letting it slide because it’s Thanksgiving” she warns and you nod.

“Yes, love. I’m sorry”

Pietro snorts and you turn to slap the back of his head.

“Sestra, are you gonna let her do that to your brother?”

“Yes” Wanda says, leaning forward to snatch his phone. “Come help me in the kitchen. Now”

“You know, I’m twelve minutes older” he says as they go back inside.

Once you’re done with mowing and picking up the dry leaves, you set a table across the backyard and some lights for extra decoration. Hoping the kids won’t look, you set up a trampoline you know they’ve been asking for.

“Alright, come supervise” you ask Wanda, and for some reason the entire Maximoff entourage follows behind.

“It looks amazing!” she says, inspecting the lights you installed. “I love these”

“I know. I may have stalked your Pinterest board, @witchy16”

“Billy, look!” Tommy points at the trampoline, running to try it out, his brother close behind.

“Be careful” Wanda warns. “I’m not sure I love that”

“They can use it only when I’m around” you promise, turning to her. “That way I can get more alone time with my girl”

Wanda laughs, but the sound is drowned out by your lips on hers, and your hands travel south to squeeze her ass.

“I’m right here!” Pietro complains, which makes you smirk.

“I didn’t see you, sorry” Wanda says.

“I did” you smile, earning a slap on the shoulder from your girlfriend. Something pings in the kitchen, so she excuses herself.

“You know, we usually save the presents for last”

“What presents? This isn’t Christmas” you say.

“People give each other presents during Thanksgiving too. Isn’t it obvious? How do you give thanks to someone? You get them something” he insists, which makes you doubt yourself. Pietro leaves to join the twins on the trampoline.

Maybe he’s right. What if Wanda got you something and after everything she’s done to make sure you enjoy this holiday, you have nothing to give back.

Fuck.

“Hey, sweetheart. Are you done in the backyard?” Wanda says when you walk in.

“I… yeah. Do you want me to do anything else?”

“No, that’s fine. I’m just letting everything in the oven for now. Come sit” 

“Actually… I need to go check something” you lie, feeling awful about it. But you have to get her a present.

“At the hospital?”

“Yes. I won’t take long, I promise” you say when she looks disappointed. “I’ll be back in an hour and I’ll help with whatever’s missing” 

“I just want us to spend time together,” she smiles, taking your hands. You lean forward, kissing her. “Oh, and call Darcy, I just want to confirm she’s coming”

“Yes, my love” 

Pretending to be super calm, you walk to your car. You only let panic take over when you’re driving around, finding the traffic to be awful. Seems like people always leave everything for the last minute, and you hate yourself for not thinking about this sooner.

You can’t let Wanda down.

Darcy’s the only person who can help out, so you call her while you try to find a place to park.

“Hello”

“Hey. Wanda wanted to confirm you’re coming to dinner”

“I am, only for the amazing food. But the hospital will page me if there’s an emergency so don’t expect me to stay for long”

“Got it. By the way, did uh, your family happen to give each other presents during Thanksgiving?”

“No, they only get drunk and yell at each other. Why? Do I have to bring a present? Because then I’m out”

“No, that was just me being stupid, never mind. See you at seven”

You hang up, leaving the car to walk around the shops. Most of them are closed, because of course, it’s a holiday. The only places still working are supermarkets. So, what? Will you have to get your perfect girlfriend toilet paper and say “happy holidays”?

After walking down several blocks, you finally find a jewelry store open. 

“Welcome. How can I help you?” a woman says.

“Hi. I can’t believe you’re open at this time of day” you comment, looking around the store. Wanda never really wears bracelets, or earrings. Necklaces, yes. Though they’re always very discreet. 

“You wouldn’t believe the amount of people who have to buy a peace offering for the holidays” 

“Huh”

“Or last minute engagements” 

“Oh. That’s definitely not the case” you smile, and something behind the woman catches your eye. “That’s a nice pearl necklace”

The woman puts on her sales hat, telling you every detail about the very elegant, very real pearls and how it is an absolute must for any woman. It honestly doesn’t take a lot of convincing. It’s beautiful and you remember how Wanda mentioned she always wanted one, but considered it a bit of a silly expense with two kids and no real use for it.

“I’ll take it” 

“You don’t want to look at the price?”

“I imagine it’s those four figures there”

“Yes”

“Yeah. That’s fine. I’m a trauma surgeon” you explain with a smile, feeling a little smug. 

“She’s a lucky lady”

You don’t really agree, considering this is very last minute. For the twins, you decide to take some of the Christmas presents you started to buy for them and store at your house.

And as much as Pietro annoys you, you’ll have to get him something too. 

Looking at the time, you decide to keep shopping for a bit longer, hoping no one notices if you’re gone too long. 

Wanda definitely notices. By the time you come back home, you’re sneaking around with a few boxes but she comes out of the kitchen.

“Where have you been?” 

Her tone makes you jump, and you look at her with wide eyes.

“I…”

“Doesn’t matter. I need you to go to the supermarket and get me some boxes of mac and cheese for all the kids. And a few bottles of wine, in case Laura and Clint stay longer” 

“Ok” you say, wishing she had called you since you were around the supermarket not long ago. 

By the time you finish all her errands, it’s four and you’ll only have an hour or two to rest. 

“Hey, here’s everything you asked for” you greet with a smile, hoping Wanda is less stressed now.

“Oh, thank you, sweetheart. I think the Bartons aren’t even staying for dinner so I made you go for no reason, I’m sorry”

“It’s ok” you say, putting your arms around her. “What’s wrong?”

“I want this to be perfect. For you to know that having a family is nice so you won’t…” she trails off, trying not to look at you.

“So I won’t, what?”

“So you won’t leave. It’s silly”

“Hey, I’d never leave… sorry” you grumble, looking at your phone and ignoring the call.

“If you need to pick up...”

“It’s just my landlord asking about the lease renewal” you roll your eyes which makes her laugh. “As I was saying, I don’t need a perfect Thanksgiving as a reason to stay. I love you. That’s it”

“I love you too” she smiles, leaning forward to kiss you. With your hands on her cheeks, you deepen the kiss, enjoying how she sighs against your lips when your tongue darts out. Then, your hands travel south to squeeze her ass, encouraging her to put her legs around your waist. 

“Hey, can we…? Ugh, not again” Pietro says, covering his eyes. “We’re thirsty”

Without dropping Wanda, you go through the stuff in the fridge and hand him some drinks.

“We’ll be upstairs, don’t go up in… 20 minutes” you say, making Wanda giggle.

“You guys are gross,” Pietro complains, crashing against the table as he keeps his eyes closed.

“Come on, let’s make those 20 minutes count” you say, carrying Wanda to the bedroom.

—

The Bartons arrive at 7, just like Wanda told them to. Sparky is the main attraction, as all the kids coo and aw at the funky little dog that loves all the attention.

“Pietro, nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you” Laura says.

“Only good things, I hope”

“That must have been a short conversation” you laugh at your own joke, while Pietro glares.

The kids run around the yard as Laura and Wanda chat, Clint handing over Nathaniel to you while Pietro talks about his job.

Darcy shows up a little later, and you make your rounds, introducing her to everyone that hasn’t met her yet. 

“You again” she says when her eyes land on Pietro. 

“What? You’ve heard a lot about me too?” 

“Yeah, mostly bad shit”

“Bad word” all the kids turn to point at her, and she facepalms.

“Fuck”

“Two bad words!” Cooper says. Laura covers Lila’s ears, though she is laughing. You clasp your hands over Darcy‘s mouth because you know she can keep going forever.

“Kids, have you tried going on our brand new trampoline? You can take Sparky with you” that gets them distracted enough, running away to the backyard. “There. Don’t worry, it took me a minute to get used to the no swearing”

“This is why I don’t hang out at PG-13 events. Anyways, I brought some stuff to make pumpkin cocktails and guacamole. Help yourselves” Darcy says, holding a bag of tortilla chips.

“Nobody eats guacamole at Thanksgiving” Pietro says. 

“They do if they’re Mexican. We can pretend. I’ll call you Pedro all night long” Darcy says just to annoy him. “Plus, this is all I can make” 

“Are all surgeons bad cooks?” Wanda teases, and you’re dumb enough to answer honestly.

“Not all! Carol is actually a great… huh” you scratch the back of your neck at Wanda’s glare. 

“Someone’s in trouble,” Pietro guesses.

“Yeah” Wanda tilts her head, making you smile weakly. 

“I’m making cocktails” Darcy interrupts everyone, dragging you to the kitchen. For a while, you talk about some patients that arrived during the day, but it was still a strangely calm shift at the hospital. It was usually busy during dinner or after that some people got injured, while driving back home. 

“Take this to Wanda, that will make her forget that Carol comment” 

Approaching slowly, you put the drink in front of your girlfriend, who takes a sip and then coughs.

“Wow, what is this?” she laughs, the alcohol strong enough to knock her off her feet.

“A fire hazard” Clint comments, able to smell it across the table. Still, Wanda sips on the drink and nods, enjoying the taste.

“Go easy, Miss Maximoff” you joke, which makes her smile.

“I still remember why I’m mad at you”

“Then forget what I said, take these like tequila shots”

“Carol is an ex,” Pietro says, putting together the information. 

“As in Carol Danvers? Nice” Clint comments, earning a slap on the arm by Laura.

“Thread carefully” 

“Ah, jeez. Look what you made me do” Clint laughs, looking at you.

“Pumpkin cocktail for Laura coming right up”

“I’ll bring it, I have to check the turkey” Wanda says, slightly slurring her words. 

“If you go anywhere near the oven, leave that thing here” Clint points out, not wanting to put out fires on his day off.

You take Wanda’s place, sipping casually on the rest of her drink. Everyone stares as you don’t even make a face to the amount of alcohol on it.

“We’ve known each other since college” you explain. ”So this is just like drinking water”

While you keep chatting in the backyard, Darcy and Wanda are both in the kitchen, your friend making herself a drink while Wanda turns off the oven to get the turkey ready.

“Want another cocktail?” she says, pushing a glass towards Wanda. The woman grabs it, sipping again. The sweet taste of the pumpkin hides a bit of the alcohol, so the punch isn’t hitting quite yet. 

“Listen, I know your brother already gave my friend the shovel talk” 

“Really? When?” Wanda says, a little too loudly. 

”Back in the hospital. And I had to hold off on mine because you were always in my territory and I didn’t want to seem like a bully. However, now is the time to tell you… she’s my best friend, has been since college. Life hasn’t been particularly fair and her mother certainly didn’t help, though I’m sure she’s made it seem like no big deal, but Y/N really does deserve someone nice and kind. So don’t break her heart. Under any circumstance”

“I’m not planning to, Daisy” Wanda nods her head, her thoughts a little fuzzy.

“Nobody plans to hurt someone they love. And I’m Darcy”

“I’m a little drunk” Wanda clicks her tongue, leaning on Darcy as they go back to the backyard. 

“Everything ok, love?” you say when Wanda comes back, and to your surprise, she sits on your lap instead of a chair.

“These things are strong. A couple more and I’ll consider doing that thing you wanted to try in bed”

“Oh, dear God” you blush, while Clint, Laura and Darcy whistle. Pietro covers his ears, gagging. “No more cocktails for you… at least with the kids around”

The Bartons stay a little while longer, eating and drinking until Lila and Cooper approach Clint.

“Can we get a dog?”

“That’s our cue to go” he sighs, standing up.

“Please, we want one!” Lila insists, and you laugh at Clint’s defeated expression.

“We’ll see” he compromises. “Come on, we gotta stop by at your grandparents”

They leave, thanking you for the food and you promise to take the twins and Sparky to play at the farm very soon.

Pietro finally gets off his ass to bring the turkey, which looks absolutely delicious. He carves it, saving the biggest piece for his sister.

“I love Thanksgiving” you say, enjoying what’s probably the best meal you’ve ever had.

“Me too” Darcy agrees, getting seconds and thirds of everything. Truth be told, you never get to sit around and eat as much as you like so this is a total luxury for a workaholic doctor.

As you’re finishing up, Wanda takes out a pecan pie. 

“I’m in heaven” Darcy comments upon the first bite.

On the other hand, you cannot hold back a moan, which makes Wanda bite her lip, one of her hands going to squeeze your thigh. 

“Hey, quick question, will you marry me?” Darcy says to Wanda and you elbow her.

“Right in front of my pecan pie?”

“I’m just saying, if you don’t, I will”

“She better get a ring then” Wanda says, smiling at you. Your mind goes back to the woman at the shop, telling you about those last minute engagements.

Surprisingly, Pietro is the one that changes the subject.

“You know what I always find funny? How the flavor makes my throat all tingly. And my tongue numb”

Everyone looks at him in silence, until Darcy speaks.

“That’s an allergic reaction”

“What? No” Pietro dismisses her point.

“It is” you insist, which earns another hand gesture from the man. “Oh, you’re right, what do we know? We only went to medical school”

“You’re so dumb” Wanda says, laughing and holding her sides. “You’ve been allergic our whole lives? Oh, my God!”

“Very funny, sestra. But now you can’t make this anymore”

“Hey, eat a granola bar or something” Darcy snaps, getting a second slice. “Why should we pay the price for your weakness?”

“Let’s finish the pie so he doesn’t get an allergy” you tease.

Darcy and you keep eating while Pietro is instructed to clean up the table and load the dishwasher. As the celebration ends, Darcy goes back home with tons of leftovers.

“I’ll walk you out ” you say, accompanying your friend. As you’re chatting, your phone rings again.

“Your mother?” Darcy guesses when you ignore the call. You click your tongue, putting the phone back in your pocket. “Let me guess, she’s calling for the usual wish you were here bullshit while never calling in advance”

“Yeah, that’s our thing. This year I’m not in the mood to do it, though”

“Well, she’ll hopefully get the hint” Darcy’s pager goes off and she sighs. “There it is”

“Want me to tag along?”

“It’s fine. I’ll call if it gets too crazy. Bye, pal”

You wave as she drives away, walking back with Sparky. For a second, you feel guilty and think about calling your mother back, but this day has been perfect and you don’t want to ruin it.

“Hey, kiddos, did you have fun?” you ruffle Tommy’s hair when you get home, getting Sparky his dinner.

“Yeah, it was awesome!”

“Well, you better check your rooms because I got you a little present”

As usual, Tommy is faster, but Billy is right behind him, both of them shouting excitedly.

“What is all that noise?” Wanda says, alarmed.

“Just following tradition” you explain with a smile, waiting for the kids to open their presents.

“What tradition?” Wanda says, looking confused.

“Thanksgiving presents”

Then you hear it. Pietro snorts a laughter from his spot in the kitchen.

Motherfucker.

“I’m gonna kill you, Evil Twin” you say, going straight to where he’s standing. Pietro runs around the kitchen island, putting distance between you two.

“Stop it, you two!” Wanda says, hands on her hips.

“Sorry, love. But he’s got it coming” you throw a towel his way, and take advantage of the distraction to jump over the counter, falling on top of him.

“Cool!” Billy says, watching as you have Pietro in a headlock.

“How are you so strong?” he complains, unable to free himself.

“I’m in the ER, do you really think I don’t have to deal with drunk assholes?”

“Enough!” Wanda shouts, pulling you by the belt loop of your pants until you’re off balance. “Explain” she asks standing between you two.

“He told me you gave each other presents during Thanksgiving!”

“We love ours!” Tommy says, showing the stands for their controls. You smile, fixing your shirt.

“Well, you’re the only ones getting one. Your uncle is definitely not”

“You got me something?”

“Yes, and it was a damn good present” you smile, knowing the curiosity will drive him crazy.

“Come on, can I have it?”

“No” Wanda and you say at the same time.

You make fun of him, and then Wanda tilts her head.

“Did you get me something?”

“Of course I did” you pat the back of your jeans, finding the necklace box there. “Here”

Wanda’s eyes widen as soon as she opens it, her hand covering her mouth.

“What? You don’t like it? I can return it. Or maybe I can’t. But you don’t have to wear it” you rant, afraid that it’s too much for a tradition that isn’t even real.

“Sweetheart, stop” she says, smiling. “I-I love it. Thank you”

“Well, I love you” you lean forward, letting her kiss you. Billy and Tommy protest at the contact, something that they have unfortunately picked up from their uncle.

“Can I have my present? Please?” Pietro says.

“No, wait until Christmas” you say.

“And for this little joke you’re gonna clean the kitchen” Wanda says, pointing at all the dirty pots and pans.

“My joke got you a pearl necklace”

“Chop, chop, Pietro” she ignores him, pushing the kids upstairs so they can get ready for bed. “You two stink, go and take a shower”

“Where do you want me, Bossypants?” you joke, standing next to her.

“Mhm” she smiles, leaning forward to whisper in your ear. “You like it when I’m bossy?”

“Yes, Ma’am”

“Then go shower too. And stay in bed. You were running around all day”

“Wanna join me in the shower?”

“I’ll help Pietro clean. Or we’ll never hear the end of it” she says, smiling when you pull her close, kissing her cheek.

“Don’t be long”

By the time Wanda comes up, you’re asleep, wearing nothing but shorts and a t-shirt.

The gentleness of her lips against your neck wakes you up with a shudder, and you bring your hand to rub up and down her back.

“Are you done with cleaning?” you say, trying not to yawn. Wanda’s teeth, marking the spot between your shoulder and neck jolt you awake. “Baby?”

“You always give me so much. I want to thank you” she says, moving down your lap. You lean on your elbows, unsure if you’re understanding what she’s saying.

“Wanda?” you’re about to ask something else, but the words get stuck in your throat when you feel her rubbing her nose against your clit through your shorts. “I… uh…”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong” you say, having trouble breathing when she pulls down your shorts, revealing you’re not wearing any underwear.

“Perfect” Wanda smiles, leaning down. You can tell she’s hovering, teasing you with anticipation. Even when she kisses the inside of your thighs, it feels heavenly.

You make the mistake of looking down, and Wanda’s eyes meet yours. She has a predatory smirk on her face, one you’ve never seen before. She knows how much you want this, she can see it, smell it. You’re about to plead for her to continue when she goes down, tongue licking a strip down your center.

“Fuck” you say, your legs instantly going to close around her head. You’re so sensitive and she’s sucking on your clit with such abandonment. Wanda lets you ride her face, enjoying the feeling of your juices coating every inch of her chin.

When you’re close to coming, she manages to pull free of your hold, pushing her hair back. Her chest is heaving, face glistening with your arousal.

“Wha-“ she doesn’t let you finish, pulling down her own shorts, and crawling on top of you.

“I want you to come with me” she sighs against your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself. Her pussy comes in contact with yours, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you feel her wetness.

“Be quiet for me” she hisses, though there’s certain tenderness in her voice. Her palm covers your mouth, and Wanda only moves when you nod, pushing her hips against yours.

“Wanda” you plead, not knowing exactly what you’re after. Even though she’s also getting pleasure out of this, she’s still very much in control, keeping you steady as she rocks her hips, setting the pace.

As your breathing quickens, Wanda picks up the pace, and your arm snakes around her waist, pulling her closer until she drops her body on top of yours, moving and panting next to your ear.

“I’m close” you breathe, and the way she bites down your neck is what pushes you over the edge, letting out a groan and a string of curse words that would put your best friend to shame.

Wanda’s release follows, and you let her dig her nails in your shoulders as she comes. She relaxes against your chest, her heart slowing down as you run your hand up and down her back.

You don’t need to look to know there’s a mess of sheets and clothes around you. Wanda is too far gone to care, the intensity of her orgasm and the exhaustion of the day making her doze off.

“Can we make this into a tradition?” you whisper against her temple. She laughs, cuddling against your side.

“Totally”

—

Wanda: Hey

Y/N: Hey, gorgeous

Wanda: Miss you

Y/N: Miss you more.

Y/N: Thinking about that mindblowing orgasm too.

“Someone got laid for Thanksgiving” Carol reads over your shoulder and you huff.

“Mind your business, Danvers”

“Darcy said it was the best meal of her life. What do we have to do to get invited next year?” she says as you walk down the hospital halls.

“Go back in time and not sleep with me”

“Damn. Wanda’s still jealous? Would it change if I’m a married gal?”

“You set a date?” you stop Carol, excited to hear more.

“Your invitation should be in the mail soon”

“Congrats!” you smile, pulling her for a hug.

“There’s one more thing… I was wondering if you’d be my maid of honor…”

The request catches you completely off guard. Carol had been your friend since you arrived at the hospital, but considering everything that happened, you’d figure Maria wouldn’t be comfortable with that.

“I mean… I would love to, but Maria”

“She’s fine with it. Understands it was just a distraction”

“Aww, that makes me feel so special” you put your hands over your chest, sighing dramatically.

“You know what I mean” Carol says, making you walk to the ER. “So, you in? You’ll have to do dress fittings. Organize a bachelorette party. Make sure I’m there on time”

“Fine, yes. Oh, did I mention we got a dog?”

On the way to the ER, you show Carol a bunch of pictures of Sparky, and she’s still obsessing over his funky hair when you find Kate, finishing some charts.

“How was your night, Bishop?”

“A bit crazy. Some accidents on the road, and cuts with kitchen knives… but it’s been pretty quiet now”

Carol gasps and you want to scream.

“Don’t say the q word, Bishop” you plead.

“Why?”

Two ambulances park right outside and you nod towards them.

“That’s why”

True to the lore, the word quiet attracts a wave of emergencies and freak accidents that take up most of your shift.

That’s not what has you on the edge of a nervouse breakdown, though.

During your first break of the night, you answer a text from Wanda, telling her you’ll be sure to be there for Pietro’s dinner tomorrow, as he’s finally leaving on Monday morning.

No one ever leaves a voicemail so you check out the notification, and you wish you hadn’t.

“For someone who works in the ER, you sure as hell aren’t around for family emergencies” your mother says. “Well, it’s not really an emergency, but you get my point. We’re gonna be in town, Jane’s probably applying to Westview university next year. Call me when you can, it would help if you give us a tour around the city. And pick up the damn phone, it’s Thanksgiving”

Kate finds you in that moment, making you jump out of your seat.

“You wanted me to…”

“Follow up with the patient in 403, yes. I’m going out for a while. Call me if it’s urgent”

The first thing you want to do is throw your phone away, but you settle for walking to a nearby store, looking for a pack of cigarrettes and a lighter. If you didn’t have a shift to go back to, you’d certainly get a bottle of cheap booze.

As you sit on the sidewalk, your hands tremble when you light up a cigarrette. It’s been ten minutes and you’re through the third one when Darcy stops by.

“What’s the matter with you?”

Since you can’t find the strenght to explain it, you hand over your phone. Your friend physically recoils at the sound of your mother’s voice, that’s how much she dislikes her.

“I’m sorry” Darcy says, sitting next to you. “She might not even make time to see you, she’s probably just pretending, like with every holiday”

“It’s not just that, Darcy. What if Jane goes to Westview University? I’m going to… I’m going to be worrying about whether or not she’ll be around. If her daughter needs anything, she’ll call me, if something goes wrong and I don’t find a way to fix it immediately, I’ll be the screw up of a daughter who never cares about her family. I’m gonna have to move, there’s just no way I can…”

“Slow down” Darcy sits next to you, her hand on your shoulder. Her touch helps you stay calm, and you breathe slowly. “That’s a massive if. You don’t know if it’s happening. And we’re both very much aware that you could do everything your mother asks and it still wouldn’t be enough. Don’t let her control you”

“I don’t know how” you admit, your voice breaking down.

“That’s ok” Darcy pulls you in, hugging you. “We’ll figure it out. Or just take her to the nastiest places in town, she’ll never let Jane come here again”

You let out a laugh at that, wiping your tears.

“I love you, friend” you say, feeling exhausted.

“Ugh, you always get so emotional when that witch is lurking around. Careful or you’ll end up proposing to Wanda”

“I don’t want my mother anywhere near Wanda. If she says anything hurtful to her, I swear to God she’ll really regret the minute she pushed me out of her fucking insides”

“Damn, bitch, now that’s the fire I want to see in you” Darcy claps, pulling you up. “Come back inside. Heard it’s been non stop since your minion summoned the entire city”

“Yeah, she said the q word”

“Queef” Darcy sighs and you cackle.

“Sassy queef”

—

The last thing you want to do when your shift is over is have dinner and be social, but you promised Wanda.

So you walk through the door with a smile on your face and some flowers for your girlfriend. Wanda greets you with a kiss, but quickly pulls apart.

“Did you smoke?”

“Uh…”

Seems like the entire pack of gum after smoking for the last 48 hours didn’t do the trick.

“Yes, sorry. I’ll go use some mouthwash and change clothes”

“Hold on” Wanda pulls your hand, looking at you. “What’s wrong? You only smoke if you’re stressed”

“Sestra!” her brother calls, and you’re actually grateful for the interruption.

“I’ll tell you later. Pietro needs your help”

Thankfully the conversation centers on the other Maximoff and his plans for the upcoming weeks, now that the conditions seem more favorable for snowboarding.

You ask a question here and there, but mostly keep to yourself, eating the chicken paprikash and drinking wine. Yeah, you definitely drink a couple of glasses to keep your cool.

If Wanda notices, she keeps it to herself once again.

“Well, sounds like you’ll be needing a pair of brand new gloves” you say to Pietro at one point, taking out a box from behind the tv. “Hidden in plain sight”

“She’s a keeper!” he exclaims when he notices the fine material. “I’m definitely coming back for Christmas now”

“Hey, you better get me something nice too”

You’re halfway the second bottle of wine when everyone’s done with dinner, and the kids are debating between going for ice cream or watching a movie. It’s safer to stay in the kitchen, cleaning everything and hoping you can excuse yourself early.

Truth is, you really want to drink until you pass out but that would raise too many questions with Wanda.

“They settled on Jumanji” Wanda announces when you’re drying your hands.

“Mmkay. I’ll take Sparky out for his walk then” you volunteer, rushing to get his leash before she can ask anything else.

The cold air makes you sober up a little, remembering what Darcy told you.

Don’t let her control you, don’t let her ruin your life.

You’ve told Wanda your relationship with your mother is not the best, but how could you possibly explain that’s a wild understatement?

“Isn’t that the cutest dog?” Agatha greets Sparky, who wags his tail. “What’s their name?”

“Sparky”

“Oh, wow” Agatha waves her hand in front of her nose. “Booze and cigarrettes, did you have fun at the casino?”

“Uh…”

“Come on, I’ll get you a special tea. It always helps”

She rushes you to her porch, making you sit while Sparky is on your lap, comfortably napping.

“One cup of “specialty”. Hah! Get it? Special tea, specialty”

“Very clever… oh, wow! Does this have peppermint?”

“Yes, clever girl”

“My grandmother grew peppermint on her front yard. I always loved the smell of it… even the taste when she made tea” you smile, sipping slowly.

“Everything ok, kiddo?” she asks after a beat of silence.

“No, not really”

“Well, I’m here if you want to…” your neighbor says, petting Sparky.

“I mean, thank you, but I feel like I don’t have a lot of people to tell this to, without being judged. Because you know what it is? I fucking hate my mother, Agatha”

To your surprise, the woman let’s out a loud laugh.

“Oh, honey, please. Tell me about it. My mother was a witch”

“Is that figuratively or…”

“I mean, who knows. She was evil, that’s for sure” Agatha rolls her eyes, and then looks at you. “Yeah, I get it. Most people say that you have to love your family, just because you share blood. Blood is thicker than water, they say. Meanwhile, they don’t know the full phrase is the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb”

“Is that so?”

“Trust me, I know” Agatha nods. “My mother would tell me I was evil, I was bad. Just rotten to the core, in her own words.”

“I’m so sorry”

“Darling, you don’t owe anyone an explanation. You have your own family with the Brady bunch over there.”

“I guess a part of me still believes she’ll apologize”

“Don’t hold your breath. And if she doesn’t, it still doesn’t mean you did something to deserve her shit”

“Thank you, Agatha”

The woman pats your leg, smiling.

“My love, are you coming back to bed?” a voice says from the inside of her house and you almost snap your neck looking back.

“Coming, Rio”

“I had no idea I was interrupting, I’ll leave right now” you stutter, carrying Sparky down the steps of the woman’s porch.

“Don’t sweat it, hot stuff. She needed a break after everything we just did” Agatha winks.

“Good talk, bye Agatha, bye Rio” you wave your hand, running back home all flustered.

The kids are with their uncle watching tv when you go inside. You let Sparky go so he can sit on the couch with them, and go upstairs to get changed and sleep.

Once you’re settling in bed, Wanda pushes the door open, eyeing you curiously.

“Sweetheart” is all she says. It’s both a question and an affirmation.

“It’s been a long day” you admit, too tired to pretend you’re ok, but also not in the mood to explain everything.

Maybe your mother won’t even come, and you’ll have shown Wanda how broken and fucked up you are for no reason. She doesn’t need to know it. Not now, at least.

“Let me help” she offers, climbing on your lap, kissing every inch of your face. You hold on to her waist, digging your fingers in her flesh. “I love you”

“I know. I love you too” you smile, finally connecting her lips with yours. She’s meant to comfort you with her touch, not wanting to start something else, because everyone’s downstairs. But when you swipe your tongue across her bottom lip, Wanda lets out a groan, nails scrapping your scalp as you deepen the kiss.

“Please” you say, switching positions so she’s on her back, you on top. You don’t really know what you’re asking for, but she can sense your desperation, holding on to your shoulders.

“It’s ok. I’m here. Use me, love. Take me”

Those words spurr you on, making you go down to kiss her neck, unbuttoning her shirt and leaving a trail of marks all the way to her hips. You desperately pull at her pants, immediately going down on her, your touch impatient as Wanda covers her mouth to keep quiet.

“Please” she manages to ask, and you give her more, stretching her with two of your fingers. “More”

You’re happy to comply, adding another digit and working them in and out of her clenching cunt, while you go back to meet her lips in a messy kiss.

“I fucking love you” you say against her mouth, and that sends Wanda over the edge, arousal gushing out of her with each of your final thrusts.

“I was… supposed to make you feel better” she says, trying to catch her breath.

“Oh, trust me. You did”

Wanda laughs, looking at you lovingly while you kiss her temple.

“I love you too” she says when your lips meet hers for a quick kiss.

“I know. I’m very lovable”

Her laugh makes you forget all the bad shit you’ve been carrying with you for the last day and a half.

—

“Take care, brat” Wanda says, her arms going around her brother. “See you soon”

“Yes” he then says something in Sokovian, making Wanda laugh.

“Do you guys know what they’re saying?” you approach Billy and Tommy.

“No, mama hasn’t taught us any Sokovian”

“We think it’s so they can say bad words without getting caught”

“Huh”

“What is all that mumbling I’m hearing?” Wanda says, making you stand straight.

“Nothing” the three of you say at the same time, making her laugh.

“Relax, sestra. You two, be good while I’m gone. And if you’re not good…”

“Be careful” they finish the sentence, laughing.

“And you…” Pietro points at you. Wanda is about to intervene, thinking he’s about to give you another shovel talk. but you wink at her, smiling. “Welcome to the family”

“Thank you, Evil Twin. See you at Christmas”

“You’re dressing up as Santa this year” he says in a low voice and you laugh.

The man gets in his car, waving goodbye one last time.

“Alright, you two, we’re gonna be late for school” Wanda says, and the routine slips you back to reality.

“Hey” you say, pulling her close to you. Before she can answer, you kiss her, hands on her cheeks. She squeezes your wrists, smiling. “Do I really have to be Santa?”

“We’ll see” she laughs, kissing you once again. “Come on. We got a busy day ahead of ourselves”

You smile, letting her take you back home.

Whatever happens next, you just need Wanda to get through it.

[darkeralmond]

luke smut when you’re at the lake house and trying to keep quiet .. need all the dirty talk from this man 😭

THANK U SM FOR THE REQUEST ILYSM ❤️❤️

MORE THAN FRIENDS

Luke Hughes x fem! Reader

synopsis: you and luke sneak off from your friends and have to stay quiet

warnings: 18+, smut, FWB, oral (f! receiving), protected sex, swearing

word count: 1.8k

a/n: hey guys!! i’ve started taking requests again since i have been so busy writing this fanfic w/ rutger. i rlly appreciate the support on my smitty smut and on my fanfic!! ily guys sm!! ❤️❤️

Going to up to the Hughes’s lake house for a week in the summer was a yearly tradition ever since your guys’ first year at UMich. When Luke left for Jersey to play with his brother, Jack, on the Devils, he promised to keep the annual trip going.

u, your best friend, Ethan, and Mark were invited to come up for the week like always. “My parents nor brothers will be there, you guys gotta come!” he begged, so you packed your bags and drove up to the lake.

You and your best friend took one car while Ethan and Mark took the other. You were almost to the lake house when your friend turned down the radio and turned to face you. “Are you excited to see Luke again?” they asked.

Excited was an understatement. You and Luke were best friends growing up, but deep down there was more to it. It wasn’t until the sophomore right before he left for New Jersey you two started sleeping together. You kept it a secret as to not mess anything up with him, but casual sex turned into romantic feelings and attachment. When he left, reality set in that you and Luke would never happen.

“Yeah, I haven’t seen him in so long,” you answered while keeping your eyes on the road. “What about you? Are you excited?”

“Duh! I love going to the lake. Plus, I bought this new bathing suit that is perfect for the summer,” they said with a wide grin on their face. After a moment of silence, they spoke up again. “You think you’re gonna make a move on Luke?”

You never them about your situation-ship with Luke, so them asking about it caught you off guard. “What are you talking about?” You glanced over at them with a confused, slightly stunned, expression.

“Ethan thinks Luke has a crush on you, and from the look on your face I can tell you have one on him too,” they teased.

You rolled your eyes as an attempt to downplay it and get them off your back, but your face flushed with heat. “Luke just has chemistry like that with everyone.”

“Okay…” your best friend replied, obviously doubting your excuse.

The rest of the car ride was spent with you two listening to music until you finally made it to the beach house. When you arrived, you saw Mark’s car already parked in the driveway next to Luke’s, so you parked on the street.

You loudly honked your horn in order to get the boys’ attention from inside. Ethan was the first to come out of the house, rushing toward you with a wide smile on his face. “You made it!” he exclaimed when you both got out of the car.

Following behind him were Luke and Mark who were already wet and in their swim trunks. “Took you long enough,” Luke said as he came around the driver’s side and opened his arms. Even though he was dripping, you accepted the hug. You haven’t seen him in so long, you didn’t care about getting a little wet. “Missed you, Y/N.”

“I missed you too,” you replied as you wrapped your arms around his neck. You pulled away from his embrace and the temptation to kiss him was unbelievable. His wet hair, the fact he was wearing no shirt with a chain on, and the smell of his cologne. It was the perfect combination to rev up a girl.

Luke broke the awkward silence by saying, “So… you need me to help you bring your stuff in?”

“Uh, yeah! That would be nice.” You popped open the trunk and let the boys help carry in all the luggage. After setting everything downstairs, you turned to Luke and asked, “Am I gonna be in the same room as last time?”

The last time you were here, you and your best friend shared the room across from Luke’s. It was fun sharing with them, but sneaking into Luke’s room to talk to him was a pain.

“I actually thought you could room with me,” Luke said as he grabbed your suitcase. You looked up at him with a shocked, yet intrigued expression. “Come on. You have a lot of unpacking to do.”

…

The sun began to set behind the horizon. Luke had gone inside a while ago, and you felt the urge to see him. “I’m gonna head in for the night,” you say before swimming to the surface.

You grabbed your towel and wrapped it around yourself while saying good night to the others. You came in through the back door and made your way to the kitchen to get a bottle of water before heading up to your room.

When you entered, you saw Luke sitting on the counter with a cup of soda next to him. “Hey,” he said when he acknowledged you.

“Hi,” you smile back. You grabbed the water from the fridge. “Mind if I sit?”

“Sure,” he answered. You laid the towel down on the counter and hauled yourself up. “Have you had fun so far?” he asked as he grabbed his cup and took a sip.

“Yeah, I’m having a nice time.” You inch closer to him until your thighs are touching. “I’m pretty sure they’re all gonna be out there for another hour if you want to… you know?”

A mischievous grin formed on Luke’s face as he looked in the direction of the back door. “You still have to be quiet just in case. You do get really loud,” he joked. You let out a fake offended gasp in response.

He grabbed your hand and helped you off the counter before leading you up to your shared room. He shut and lock the door before pulling you into a kiss.

His lips were soft and sweet against yours. Your hands moved to caress his chest, feeling his muscles underneath your palms.

Your lips parted slightly, and he licked at your bottom lip before sucking it softly in between his teeth. Luke pulled the string of your bikini top undone to expose more skin before moving his lips down to your neck.

His hands traveled downwards along your sides, stopping at your waist. “Luke,” you breathed as he grazed his fingers against the hem of your bikini bottoms.

“May I?” He asked, raising his eyebrows in invitation.

“Mhm, yeah,” you nodded as he slid them down your legs. He scooped you into his arms and carried you to the bed. He laid you down on the mattress as his lips met yours once again.

He kissed you deeply, making love to your mouth. One of his hands slid up your thigh as his fingers continued tracing small circles on your skin. Your breathing became heavy as your core pulsed.

His kisses trailed down your bare body and landed on your chest. He gently sucked one of your nipples, rolling the other with his fingers gently. You let out a shaky exhale as you ran your fingers through his hair.

“Fuck, I missed you so much, babe,” Luke murmured against your skin as he peppered your body with kisses. Times like this when he called you “babe” or “love” messed with your perception of what you two are.

For a moment, it feels like intimate and as if he adores you the same way you do him. Then it ends and you’re forced to keep it a secret from everyone else.

He spread your legs open and kissed your inner thighs before gently sucking on your clit. Your eyes rolled back into your head as he secured your legs with his arms. “Fuck, Luke, just like that,” you whimpered.

He ran his tongue along your folds before circling your clit with the tip of his tongue again. You let a loud moan slip as pleasure hit your body. “You need to quiet down. Don’t get too worked up over me,” he teased. “I want to fuck you so bad, Y/N.”

“Please Luke,” you begged, “I need you inside me. Please…” your voice was barely a whisper.

He immediately got up before you could finish and made his way over to his dresser where he stored condoms. He pulled out a packet and eagerly ripped it open before pulling down his swim shorts and rolled the rubber over his erection. “I’m ready when you are, my love,” he said huskily as he pulled your body closer to him.

“I’m ready,” you confirm. With that, he positioned himself before slowly inching his way in. You let out a loud wince and dug your nails into the comforter below you. You bit your bottom lip hard in order to prevent any noise that dared to come out of you.

His thrusts began slow and gentle until you adjusted comfortably. Luke started pounding into you roughly, causing you to squirm under him. “You feel so good, baby!” he groaned. “This is why I can never keep my hands off you, Y/N.”

You’ve learned to ignore comments like this since you knew Luke was only saying them in the heat of the moment. “Oh god, oh God,” you cried as your body convulsed beneath him. You could feel as the climax ripped through your body. “Luke! Fuck, Luke!”

You writhed around in delight. You could feel every nerve ending tingle throughout your body. A rush of adrenaline flooded your system making you tremble. Luke wasn’t finished though, and he wouldn’t be until he came.

Luke gripped your waist tightly in response to your excitement before increasing his thrusts faster as his release grew ever closer. You could hear him panting heavily, his hands shaking around your waist. His movements became erratic as he let out choked moans until he finally came, twitching as he did so.

Once his release subsided, Luke pulled out and disposed of the condom. When he came back into the bedroom, he laid on your chest and closed his eyes. You played with his curls as he tried to calm his breathing.

“Y/N?” Luke whispered with his head still laying on your chest.

“Yes, Luke?” you whispered back, now running your fingers along the nape of his neck. You could feel his muscles trembling underneath you. It made you feel a little concerned about him.

“I don’t want you to think I’m only using you for sex.” His words spilled out quickly. “But I really like you,” he paused to take a breath. “You don’t have to answer me now, but do you want to be my girlfriend?”

You were taken aback by his bluntness. He thought that it was too soon to ask you out after fucking for the first time in months. You acknowledged that you couldn’t lie about your feelings. Not anymore.

“Of course I do,” you smiled as you looked into his soft brown eyes. Luke gave you an ecstatic grin before pressing a quick peck to your lips.

[starshideurfics]

Thirsty Thursday - Stevie’s Garage

steddie, omegaverse, 1960s, omegas entering the workforce, single parents, cw: vague references to suicide

Steve liked working with his hands. As a child that meant playing with lincoln logs and tinker toys, after he presented it meant baking a sewing. Then his no-good, two-timing alpha left him for his secretary, with two pups, Danny (6) and Jenny (7 1/2). Steve won full custody in the divorce, and at least his ex pays his alimony on time.

But it isn’t enough to live on, not with the mortgage and the kids. Fortunately, he doesn’t have to worry about the house falling apart; he’s been doing home repairs the entire time, learned to change his own oil in his car, can fix a flat tire with ease.

More and more omegas are driving now, and Steve figures they would appreciate service from someone who won’t talk down to them. He gets a loan from his aunt, a maiden omega who invested well, and opens his own automobile service station: Stevie’s Garage.

Robin helps him get set up: painting the sign, ordering supplies, answering phone calls, while Steve gets under the hoods and gets his hands dirty.

He does well enough that after the first month he puts an ad in the paper to hire a second mechanic. He figures it will take a while to find an alpha (or even a beta) who can stand working for an omega.

Much to his surprise, a man with dark curls and a shy smile comes by later that week asking if the job is still available. Steve has Eddie check the car on the lift, and he finds the loose fan belt in a couple minutes, changes it out.

Steve hires him on the spot.

It turns out Eddie’s got a pup, too. Carrie’s in Danny’s class at school, and all Eddie will say is that her mother isn’t around anymore. Steve doesn’t pry. It means the three pups ride the bus to the garage after school and play together there until the workday is done. Jenny’s bossy, a bit feral, and loyal to a fault. The first day Carrie gets off the bus with them, she asks why she isn’t going home to her mom, all childish bluntness.

“Mama died in the bathtub when I was really little, then I went to live with Daddy,” Carrie answers, just a statement of fact.

Steve’s glad he didn’t pry.

After that, Jenny is as protective of Carrie as she is of her brother.

Three months after he hired Eddie, Steve admits to himself that he likes the alpha. More than likes him. Eddie smells nice, and he’s gentle with the pups, never raises his voice in anger—only in excitement or fear—he tells jokes and stories to pass the time, sings along with the radio. But mostly, he looks at Steve like a starving man looks at bread when he thinks the omega isn’t looking.

Steve wants to feed him.

They both have engine grease under their fingernails, are covered in heavy-duty cotton, Steve’s hair is under a kerchief; there is nothing particular sexy about the moment. But Steve can’t wait any longer, and he presses up against Eddie, pins him in place and kisses his mouth.

“I’m dead, yeah? The lift fell and I was crushed by Mrs. Wheeler’s Bel Air, and I’m dead,” Eddie babbles when their lips part.

“Not dead,” Steve replies with a grin. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Steve leans in for another kiss, one that Eddie deepens, his tongue slipping easily between parted lips. “I’ll need to get Robin to babysit.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, Munson. You’re taking me out dancing.”

✨✨✨

Steve answers the door with his housecoat still on, crouching down to say hello to Carrie first, the pup throwing her arms around his neck. “Head into the living room, honey, the kids are doing a puzzle with Robbie,” he says, watching her scamper past him into the house. He turns to Eddie with a soft smile, “Just give me a couple minutes and I’ll be ready to go.”

“Yeah, sure,” Eddie agrees, smile just as soft.

Steve disappears to his bedroom, and Eddie waits awkwardly in the doorway. He hears laughter from deeper in the house, followed by Robin saying, “Hey there, Care-Bear, come sit by me.”

He’s ruminating on how nice it is to have people who adore his kid as much as he does around, to give her that big family feeling, at least a little bit. Then Steve comes down the hallway wearing a proper dress, and Eddie quite literally stops breathing.

Dressed to the nines, Steve is a revelation, but he simply takes Eddie’s hand and says, “So, where are you taking me?”

“Enzo’s,” Eddie answers, no longer worried that it’s too much. Steve deserves the nicest restaurant in town for their first date. Steve deserves the best of everything.

Not that either of them has fancy tastes, not knowing what half the things on the menu are. Eddie gets spaghetti and meatballs, and Steve gets a chicken dish with some kind of red sauce. They talk and trade bites of food, both careful as they eat—Steve due to a lifetime of practice, Eddie because he realized as soon as the waiter took their order that he’d made a mistake and that leaving without marinara on his shirt would be a miracle.

After, he tells Steve to order dessert, and they split a tiramisu. Eddie pays the bill without really looking at it, having kept a tally in his head of the prices by habit, leaves a nice tip, and helps Steve up from his seat. “Ready for that dance?”

Steve smiles and nods, following Eddie to the dance floor. Enzo’s has a live band on the weekends; “Unforgettable” by Nat King Cole starts just as Steve steps onto the parquet dance floor, his arms settling easily around Eddie’s neck. “I love this song,” he murmurs as they start to sway.

“Makes sense,” Eddie murmurs, “You’re certainly unforgettable, Steve.” They’re silent after that, moving to the music, bodies pressed close. A new song starts, and they keep swaying, dancing merely an excuse to hold each other in public, to trade small kisses.

“Robin’s planning to spend the night at my place,” Steve says once they are safely back in Eddie’s car.

“Oh?”

“We still have plenty of time…”

“Steve?”

“Take me back to your place, Eddie.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice, driving on autopilot, as Steve rubs his hand up and down Eddie’s thigh.

Steve pounces on him as soon as they get through Eddie’s front door, kissing him hard and reaching for his belt. They shed clothes down the hallway, until they reach Eddie’s bedroom, leaving the lights off, everything illuminated well enough by the nearly full moon.

Eddie stops breathing again. Steve is a vision in only his slip, white satin and lace showing off so much more of his skin than Eddie’s ever seen. Carefully, he reaches out, suddenly nervous—a crass, unworthy man standing before the loveliest omega on earth—and pinches a bit of fabric at Steve’s waist, afraid to touch more.

“Hey,” Steve whispers, placing a hand over Eddie’s, “It’s okay. I’m still just me. Not gonna break, Ed.”

Everything after that is slow and sweet. Perfect.

Eddie cries tears of pleasure as he sinks into Steve’s wet heat. Steve mewls at being properly knotted for the first time in years. They fall asleep tangled together, the most relaxed either of them have felt, possibly ever.

Steve wakes early, before the sun is up. Eddie stirs beside him as soon as he moves, and Steve is happy to take a couple minutes to kiss.

There’s plenty of time to get home before the pups wake.

✨✨✨

Big thanks to @itcanbepalped for sharing the inspo with me and then riffing for a bit! Love you, Mads!!!

[ka1rin]

A Match in Munich (part 1)

— kaiser x fem reader

summary: You move to Germany to pursue your studies and volleyball career, adjusting to a new life in a foreign city. Along the way, you meet a confident soccer player, and the growing tension between you both sparks an unexpected connection, leaving you unsure of what comes next.

author note: oikawa is mentioned here btw!! And I posted this at 3am without proofreading so if there’s a mistake, don’t be surprised. (T—T”)

The hum of the airplane engines faded into the background as you leaned your head against the window, watching the cloud-streaked horizon. Moving to Germany was a big step, but it was part of your plan—pursue your studies while preparing for your future as a professional volleyball player. Volleyball was your passion, but your education was equally important.

As you stepped into the bustling Munich airport, you spotted a familiar figure waiting for you. Noel Noa, your cousin and one of the world’s most famous soccer players, waved at you, his platinum hair catching the light.

“Welcome to Germany,” Noel said warmly, pulling you into a brief hug.

“It’s been too long,” you replied, smiling up at him.

Noel helped you with your luggage and led you to his sleek car parked outside. As he drove through the charming streets of Munich, you took in the cobblestone roads and beautiful architecture, feeling both excited and overwhelmed.

“I’ve set up a place for you near your university,” Noel explained. “It’s small, but it’s close to campus. You’ll like it.”

“Thanks, Noel. I really appreciate it,” you said sincerely.

He nodded, then glanced at you. “Actually, I need a favor.

You raised an eyebrow. “Already?”

He chuckled. “I’m swamped tomorrow. Can you pick me up after practice? It’s at the Bastard München stadium. I’ll send you the details.”

“Sure,” you replied with a shrug.

The next evening, you drove to the Bastard München stadium, parking near the players’ entrance. While waiting for Noel, your eyes wandered to the field, where the team was practicing. Their movements were precise and calculated, a testament to their elite status.

One player stood out���blond hair shining under the stadium lights, his confidence radiating as he effortlessly commanded the field. You couldn’t help but watch him.

Then, as if sensing your gaze, he turned. His piercing blue eyes locked onto yours, and a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. You quickly looked away, heat rising to your cheeks.

When practice ended, Noel approached, towel slung over his shoulder. “Thanks for coming. Sorry for the wait.”

“No problem,” you said, trying to sound casual.

Before you could leave, the blond player walked over, his stride casual but purposeful.

“Noa,” he greeted your cousin smoothly before turning his attention to you. “And who’s this?”

“This is my cousin,” Noel replied, his tone guarded. “She’s a professional volleyball player studying here in Germany.”

The player extended a hand, his smirk deepening. “Michael Kaiser. A pleasure to meet you.”

You hesitated briefly before shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you too.”

His grip lingered just a second longer than necessary, his gaze holding yours until Noel cleared his throat.

“All right, Kaiser, don’t bother her,” Noel said, ushering you toward the car.

As you left, you couldn’t shake the feeling of Kaiser’s eyes on you, his smirk etched into your mind.

A few days later, you found yourself at the stadium again, this time after classes. Noel had asked you to pick him up, but when he arrived, he had other plans.

“Sorry,” he said, climbing into the passenger seat. “I have a meeting downtown. I’ll need to leave my car here for now.”

“Okay,” you replied, shrugging.

Before you could drive off, Kaiser appeared, his gym bag slung over his shoulder. “Noa, heading out already?”

“Yeah,” Noel replied, nodding toward you. “(y/n)’s heading back to her place. You live in the same direction, don’t you? Why don’t you ride with her?”

You blinked in surprise, but Kaiser grinned. “If (y/n) doesn’t mind, I’d be happy to.”

You hesitated, but his relaxed demeanor made it hard to say no. “Sure, why not?”

Kaiser slid into the passenger seat after Noel left, his presence immediately filling the car.

“So,” he began, breaking the silence. “What’s a professional volleyball player doing chauffeuring her cousin?”

You laughed lightly. “It’s a one-time thing. I just moved here, and Noel’s been helping me get settled.”

“Ah, a newcomer,” he said, studying you with curiosity. “How are you finding Munich so far?”

“It’s beautiful,” you admitted. “But I’m still adjusting. It’s a big change.”

“You don’t seem like the type to be overwhelmed easily,” he remarked, his smirk returning.

You glanced at him, caught off guard. “And you can tell that from a ten-minute car ride?”

He grinned. “I’m good at reading people.”

When you arrived at his stop, Kaiser lingered, his hand on the door handle. “Thanks for the ride. I owe you one. How about I buy you coffee sometime?”

You hesitated, unsure if he was serious.

“It’s just coffee,” he added, his smirk softening.

“Okay,” you agreed, smiling despite yourself.

A few days later, you met Kaiser at a cozy café. The atmosphere was warm, the smell of freshly brewed coffee filling the air.

"So," Kaiser began after taking a sip of his espresso, "why aren't you playing volleyball right now? You're clearly passionate about it."

You smiled, leaning back in your chair. "I want to finish college first. After that, I'll focus on volleyball completely—no distractions."

He tilted his head, intrigued. "No distractions, huh? What's the plan after college?

"Brazil," you said, your eyes lighting up. "I have a friend there—Oikawa. He's one of the best setters I know, and training with him will push me to my limits. I'll stay there for a few years, then join Japan's national team."

Kaiser raised an eyebrow. "You've already been offered a spot on the national team?"

You nodded. "Yeah. It's a dream come true, but I want to be ready. I don't want to hold back when I step onto that court."

He leaned forward, his blue eyes locked onto yours. "You're playing the long game. That's rare. Most people I know rush into success without thinking."

"I'm not most people," you said, your tone teasing but firm.

Kaiser grinned. "I noticed."

After finishing your coffee and a shared plate of pastries, Kaiser leaned back in his chair. "So, what now? Should I call you a cab, or do you want to walk home?"

You glanced out the window at the calm evening streets. "I'd rather walk. It's not far, and I like the fresh air."

He stood up, slipping on his coat. "Then I'll walk with you. Munich's safer than most cities, but I don't trust it with you walking alone."

You laughed softly but didn't argue, letting him accompany you.

The walk was quiet at first, the cobblestone streets glistening under the streetlights. The city seemed to glow, a mix of old-world charm and modern energy. Kaiser walked beside you, his hands in his pockets, his usual confidence seemingly muted by thought.

"So," he said suddenly, his tone casual but his eyes sharp. "Where will you be staying in Brazil?"

You turned to him, surprised by the question. "Oikawa's already reserved an apartment for me. It's next to his."

Kaiser stopped walking for a moment, his expression darkening. "Next to his?"

You nodded. "Yeah, he insisted. Said it'd be easier for us to train together."

He began walking again, his movements a little stiffer than before. "Are you and Oikawa... a thing?"

The question caught you off guard. "What?"

"You know," he said, his voice flat but laced with irritation. "Dating. Together. Is he more than a friend?"

You stared at him, unsure whether to laugh or be annoyed. "No, Michael. Oikawa's just a friend. We've known each other for years, and that's it.”

Kaiser's shoulders relaxed slightly, but his jaw remained tight. "Good. Because if he were, I'd have a lot to say about him reserving an apartment for you."

You rolled your eyes, choosing to keep walking instead of engaging. Kaiser, however, wasn't done.

"You're really going to spend years with this guy?" he pressed.

"It's not like that," you replied, exasperated but amused by his persistence. "We're both focused on our goals, and training with someone as talented as him is an opportunity I can't pass up. That's all."

Kaiser didn't respond right away, his gaze fixed on the pavement ahead. When you reached your apartment building, he stopped a few steps away, his expression softer but still guarded.

"Well," he said, his voice lighter now, "thanks for the walk. Try not to let this Oikawa guy push you too hard in training. And don't let him distract you from finishing college."

You smirked, raising an eyebrow. "I can handle myself, Kaiser."

He gave a small wave, his usual smirk creeping back. "Goodnight, (y/n)"

"Goodnight, Michael," you replied, watching as he walked away.

You climbed the stairs to your apartment, his words still lingering in your mind. Kaiser was nothing if not persistent—and somehow, you didn't mind that one bit.

The morning came early, as it always did in your life. The prestigious university you were enrolled in wasn't for the faint of heart, and each day felt like an uphill battle. Despite your passion for volleyball, the weight of academic expectations was just as heavy. You had to be at your best—on the court and in the classroom.

As you made your way through the crowded halls, your mind raced with formulas and historical facts, preparing yourself for another grueling round of tests. Being at the top of your game academically wasn't easy, but it was a challenge you gladly accepted.

The tests, assignments, and lectures blurred into a routine, but one thing was always certain—you thrived under pressure. Each paper, each exam, was a chance to prove yourself, to show that you weren't just another student passing through.

After hours of studying and a few brutal tests, you finally wrapped up the day. As you walked out of the university, exhausted but satisfied, the familiar call of coffee beckoned you.

A quick stop at your favorite café gave you just enough energy to power through the night. It was already 10:00 PM, and you had one final task before you could call it a day: picking up Noel.

You pulled into the stadium parking lot, scanning the area for Noel. It was a late-night session, and the stadium lights cast long shadows over the empty spaces. As you waited, the sound of footsteps caught your attention, and your eyes flickered toward a familiar figure.

It was Michael Kaiser, standing near his car, surveying the area with that same confident posture. His eyes caught yours immediately, his lips curling into a familiar smirk. You felt that familiar rush when you saw him, but this time it wasn't just curiosity. Something more lingered in the air between you.

You approached him, not even thinking twice. Kaiser turned to face you, his expression neutral but something flickered in his gaze.

"You here to pick up your cousin?" Kaiser asked, his voice smooth.

"Yeah," you nodded, scanning the area. "Where is he?"

"He's just speaking with someone," Kaiser said casually, though you could tell his focus was elsewhere. "Noel's always talking to someone. Could never get him to keep his head in the game."

You chuckled lightly. "You sound like you know him well."

"I do," Kaiser said, his tone still flat, but you couldn't help but feel that there was more behind his words. His gaze shifted to you, and after a brief pause, he leaned in slightly, almost like it was an afterthought. "I never got your number."

You blinked in surprise before pulling out your phone. "Right. You didn't."

He reaches for his pockets and pulls out his phone, he presses the power button, yet the screen remains black. “Shit my phone’s dead, can I type in my number instead?”

“No problem at all” You handed your phone to him, and without hesitation, he typed in his number. When he returned your phone, his fingers brushed against yours briefly.

"I've got somewhere to be," Kaiser said, checking the time. "But I'll talk to you later." His smirk deepened, and with a final look, he turned to leave.

Before you could gather your thoughts, Noel arrived, waving from a distance. You smiled and waved back.

"Oh, you're here?" Noel asked, jumping into the passenger seat of your car.

"Yeah," you replied, slipping your phone back into your bag, your mind still on the brief exchange with Kaiser. "Let's go home."

As you started the drive, the silence between you and Noel wasn't uncomfortable—it was more a reflection of how tired you both were. The night was peaceful, the streets of Munich empty as you made your way home.

"You were talking to Kaiser?" Noel asked after a long pause, breaking the silence.

You glanced at him, surprised by the question. "Yeah, I ran into him at the stadium. Why?"

Noel didn't immediately answer, but you could sense his curiosity. "He's a good player. But I didn't think you two would meet like that."

You shrugged. "We just talked for a bit. Nothing big."

Noel didn't press further. Instead, he looked out the window, his thoughts likely preoccupied with the training and his performance on the field.

As you neared your apartment, you couldn't shake the feeling that your encounter with Kaiser wasn't a coincidence. There was something about him that kept drawing you in. Maybe it was his intensity, or the way he seemed so effortlessly confident.

You pulled into the parking area of the sleek apartment complex where Noel lived, the car slowly coming to a stop. He'd been silent for most of the ride, probably too tired from training, but now, as you were about to part ways, he seemed to have a few words left to share.

"We've got a game tomorrow," Noel said as he reached for the door handle, his voice carrying a certain level of seriousness. "You should come watch, after all tomorrow is Sunday. We're playing a strong team, and it'd be good to have you there.”

You glanced at him, curious. "A game tomorrow?"

"Yeah," he continued, grinning a little. "And, you know, you should come and give Kaiser some motivation. Maybe he'll need it." His eyes sparkled with mischief as he added, "I'm sure he could use some cheering up."

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. "Haha, very funny," you replied sarcastically. "We're just friends, Noel."

Noel gave a dramatic shrug as he opened the door, but there was a teasing glint in his eyes. "Alright, if that's what you say..." He paused, then added with a smirk, "But I'll still reserve some tickets for you. Just in case you change your mind and decide to come."

You chuckled. "You're impossible," you teased, but the offer still warmed you. "But fine. I'll see about it. Goodnight, Noel."

Noel stepped out of the car, turning back to give you a grateful smile. "Goodnight, (y/n). And thank you for picking me up, really. I know it's late, and you must be tired." He gave you a sincere nod before heading toward the entrance of the building.

"Anytime, couz. Get some rest. You've got a big game ahead," you called after him.

You watched him disappear into the building, your mind still buzzing from the day's events. You were excited for tomorrow's game now, especially after Noel's hint about Kaiser. It seemed like things were definitely starting to shift in unexpected ways.

As you drove home, you couldn't help but feel the pull of the upcoming game—and maybe, just maybe, you'd get a chance to see Kaiser again.

The second you arrived home, you didn't even bother taking off your shoes before you plopped into bed. The exhaustion from the day's work and everything that had happened weighed down on you, and before you knew it, you were under the covers, your eyes slowly closing.

Just as you were about to drift off, your phone buzzed on the nightstand, pulling you out of your drowsy state. You reached for it, blinking a few times to focus on the screen. An unknown number flashed across your phone.

You hesitated for a moment, then opened the message. The text read:

"Hey, this is Kaiser."

Your eyebrows furrowed in surprise. What was Kaiser texting you for? You quickly opened the message, eager to see what he wanted.

The next message appeared:

"Do you know about the game tomorrow?"

You blinked, then typed back, "Yeah, Noel told me. He's been talking about it all day."

Kaiser's reply came swiftly:

"The game starts at 1 PM. Don't forget to come and cheer us on. It's going to be intense."

You let out a small laugh, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as you decided to respond. "You should sleep now, it's almost midnight, and you have a game tomorrow."

Kaiser's reply was almost immediate:

"I'll sleep when I'm ready. But you're right, I need to rest. See you tomorrow at the game."

"Goodnight," you typed, a smile tugging at your lips as you sent it.

You dropped your phone onto the nightstand, turning off the light. As you settled back into the pillows, your thoughts drifted to the game tomorrow—and to Kaiser. Something told you tomorrow would be interesting, to say the least.

With that, you finally allowed yourself to drift off to sleep, ready for the day ahead.

You wake up with a sudden jolt, stretching your arms as you try to shake off the remnants of sleep. Your body feels heavy, but the realization hits you like a splash of cold water. You glance at the clock.

12:15?!

Your eyes widen in shock. You've slept way longer than intended, and now the rush is on. The game starts at 1:00 PM, and you have so much to do before heading out.

Scrambling out of bed, you grab a basic tee and a pair of shorts from your wardrobe. As you lay them out, a small doubt creeps in. What's the right outfit for a game like this? You hadn't thought about it before—just assumed anything would do. But now, standing there, it feels strange to show up unprepared.

After a moment's hesitation, you shrug. Whatever. Simple works.

You quickly pull on the clothes, grab your sneakers, and rush out of your apartment with your essentials—phone, wallet, keys. Locking the door behind you, you head to your car and drive toward the venue.

The trip is quick, but by the time you arrive, it's already 12:45. Just enough time for a quick stroll before the game starts. Noel had reserved a seat for you, so finding a spot wasn't a concern. But as you approach the entrance, you notice something that makes you pause.

Everyone around you is decked out in jerseys—some Bastard Munchen ones, others generic team merch—but they're all representing. Looking down at your simple tee, embarrassment creeps in. You feel out of place.

Scanning the nearby stalls, your eyes land on one selling jerseys. Perfect. You make a beeline for it, browsing through the racks until you find a Noa jersey. Excitement bubbles up, but it's short-lived. They don't have your size.

You frown, disappointment threatening to take over. But then you spot another jersey—a Kaiser one. That'll work.

You buy it and head to the bathroom to change, the fabric feeling a little stiff but comforting in its own way. As you glance at your reflection, a small smile tugs at your lips. You may not have planned this, but at least you won't stand out awkwardly in the crowd.

Alright. Let's do this.

You hurry to your seat just as the game begins. The energy in the arena is electric, the crowd roaring with every play. Your heart races as the teams battle it out, trading points in a nail-biting match. By the time it's 2-2, the tension is almost unbearable.

Then, the final set begins. Your eyes are glued to the court, watching as Kaiser moves with precision and determination. During a brief break, his gaze sweeps the crowd—and lands on you. For a moment, your eyes meet. Heat rushes to your cheeks, and you quickly look away.

The game resumes, and with one powerful strike, Kaiser seals the victory for Bastard Munchen. The arena erupts, fans cheering and celebrating wildly. But before joining his team in the celebration, Kaiser glances at you again. This time, a smirk curves his lips, as if silently acknowledging you.

The crowd was chaotic, with players and staff bustling about in the player's area. You were searching for Noel Noa, your cousin, but the sheer volume of people made it nearly impossible to spot him. Frustrated, you pushed forward, determined to find him.

You bumped into someone solid, nearly losing your balance. "Tch, watch it," came an annoyed but familiar voice. You looked up to see Kaiser, his sharp eyes narrowing at first, then softening with recognition.

"Oh, Y/N? What are you doing here?" he asked, crossing his arms.

"I'm looking for Noa," you said.

Kaiser let out an exaggerated sigh, brushing a hand through his hair. "Figures. Fine, I'll help you. Stay close."

He started cutting through the crowd effortlessly, his confident presence parting people as he went. You followed closely, grateful for the help.

"There he is," Kaiser said, nodding ahead. Sure enough, Noel Noa stood tall, deep in conversation. "Go on, talk to him."

You stepped forward, but just as you called out, a journalist swooped in, pulling Noa aside for an interview. He gave you an apologetic look as he was whisked away, leaving you stranded in the middle of the bustling crowd.

Suddenly, the noise felt deafening, the people pressing in too close. Your breathing quickened as panic started to set in.

A hand grabbed your wrist, steady and reassuring. "Hey, I've got you."

It was Kaiser. He pulled you out of the crowd and into a quieter, more open space. The relief was immediate, and you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.

"You good?" he asked, his tone unusually gentle.

Before you could respond, a voice called out. "Hey!"

You turned to see an interviewer with a camera pointed at you, a curious glint in her eyes.

"Hey! Aren't you the star volleyball player invited to join the Japan national team?"

You freeze, your heart skipping a beat. Turning, you see an interviewer, her camera pointed right at you.

"And," she continues, her tone teasing, "are you two a thing?"

Her words hang in the air, and you feel the heat rising in your face. The camera clicks, capturing you and Kaiser standing close, his name clearly visible on your jersey.

Before you can respond, Kaiser steps in, a charming grin on his face. "We're just talking," he says smoothly, his voice carrying an easy confidence. "But I guess the press loves a good story."

The interviewer isn't deterred. "So no romance, then?"

Kaiser laughs, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Nope. Just friends," he says with a playful wink. "Though I'll admit—she has excellent taste in jerseys."

You glance at him, half-annoyed, half-amused, as the interviewer snaps another photo and moves on, satisfied with her scoop.

"Well," you mutter, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, "that was... something."

Kaiser chuckles. "You'll get used to it. But hey, we looked good, didn't we?"

You can't help but laugh, his lightheartedness easing the tension. "I guess so."

"See?" he says with a grin. "You've got a fanbase now."

Shaking your head, you reply, "I just hope they don't start spreading rumors."

"Let them," Kaiser teases. "We'd make a great duo" His tone softens, and he gives you a sincere look. "But seriously, you okay?"

You nod, offering a small smile. "Yeah, I'm good. Thanks for handling that."

"No problem," he says with a wink. "Just another day in the spotlight."

And with that, the tension melts away. Standing beside him, you feel like you can take on whatever comes next.

you realize that being around Kaiser isn't as overwhelming as you thought. His charisma, while undeniable, has a way of putting you at ease.

As then crowd thins out, he gestures toward an exit. "Come on, let me walk you to your car," he offers, his tone casual.

You nod, falling into step beside him. The evening air is crisp, and the noise from the stadium fades into the distance. For a moment, neither of you speaks, the silence oddly comfortable.

"You know," Kaiser begins, breaking the quiet, "you're full of surprises."

You glance at him, puzzled. "What do you mean?"

He shrugs, a small smirk playing on his lips. "Most people I meet are either intimidated or trying too hard to impress. But you? You're just... you. It's refreshing."

You let out a soft laugh. "Well, I could say the same about you. For someone as confident as you seem, you're not as much of a showoff as I expected."

Kaiser raises an eyebrow, feigning offense. "Not a showoff? Did you not see that goal today?"

You roll your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips. "Okay, maybe a little bit of a showoff. But not in a bad way."

He chuckles, and for a moment, his expression softens. "Thanks for coming today. It was... nice having you there."

The sincerity in his voice catches you off guard, and you feel your cheeks warm. "It was fun," you admit. "You guys are incredible to watch."

As you reach your car, Kaiser leans against the door, his hands tucked into his pockets. "So, about that coffee," he says, his smirk returning. "How about we make it dinner next time?"

You blink, surprised by the sudden shift. "Dinner?"

"Yeah," he says casually, as if it's the most natural thing in the world. "You need a proper introduction to Munich. And who better to show you around than me?"

You hesitate for a moment, unsure if he's teasing or serious. But the look in his eyes tells you he means it.

"Alright," you say finally, a small smile playing on your lips. "Dinner it is."

His grin widens, and he steps back, letting you open your car door. "Good. I'll text you the details."

As you drive away, you can't help but replay the day's events in your mind. Somehow, amidst the chaos of your new life in Germany, Kaiser has managed to slip past your defenses. And while you're not sure what that means yet, could you possibly have feelings for him?

[mountttmase]

Change Of Heart

The End - Part Five

Note - thank you for all your feedback last week, I’m glad we’re all on team Mason but hopefully our girl has a chance to redeem herself this week 😭 feedback is appreciated like always and I hope you enjoy a bit of a lighter chapter 🤭

Pairing - Mason Mount x Reader

Word count - 7.4k

Warnings - series contains angst & fluff

It seemed like no matter where you looked, Mason's name was in your face. His boyhood club dragging him through the mud and as much as you tried to keep in contact and let him know you were there for him, he was keeping his cards close to his chest.

Mason had been linked with a few different clubs over the last few months, but the name Manchester United was one that seemed to be sticking. You didn’t want to get your hopes up that maybe soon enough he’d be closer to you both but as soon as you saw the here we go you couldn’t wipe the smile from your face.

Mason had messaged you ten minutes ago asking if he could call you but so far you hadn’t heard a thing. Gee was up in her room playing while you were making dinner but as soon as you felt your phone vibrating you turned everything off and answered as quickly as you could.

‘Hey Mase’

‘Hey love, you alright?’ He answered but you could tell straight away how emotional he was.

‘Yeah, fine. You?’ You asked carefully. Hoping he knew it would be okay to talk to you and after a beat of silence you heard him sigh.

‘Yeah, I um… I don’t know if you’ve seen’ he asked cautiously and you knew this was your time to step up and be the friend he’d always been to you. It was as clear as day he needed someone and you were ready to be exactly what he wanted.

‘I’ve seen, Mase’

‘Okay’ he gulped, his voice timid and it made your tummy ache at how sad he sounded.

‘How are you feeling?’

‘Dunno, a bit numb to it all I think’ he chuckled but you could tell there was no joy in it. ‘I could really do with a hug’

‘Next time I see you I’ve got the biggest hug ever for you, okay? Gee too, I promise’ you reassured him but you could feel yourself becoming emotional at how he sounded. He’d been through a lot lately but you’d never heard him so downbeat.

‘Thank you’ he laughed ‘I’ll be seeing you soon I guess. We’re leaving the trip early to travel up and I’ve got a hotel for the week but maybe I could pop by?’

‘Of course, you can stay with me the whole time Mase you know that right?’ You offered but you knew it made more sense for him to stay with his family.

‘It’s fine, the club are paying for the hotel and then I’ll be away on tour no doubt. And I’ll hopefully have a house sorted when I get back’

‘Well you know you can come over whenever’. You reiterated and after a beat of silence you could help but ask how he was again. ‘Are you sure you’re okay, Mase?’

‘I’ll be fine, sorry I would say more but we’re in the car’ he explained and you understood immediately that he didn’t want to say too much in front of his family.

‘No it’s fine, listen I need to make Gee’s dinner and sort her out for bed but why don’t you call me later? Like when you’re in your room and we can have a proper talk’ you offered. Not wanting him to bottle it all up and make himself sick.

‘Are you sure? It might be late’

‘I’m sure Mase. I told you I’m always here, yeah? Even if it’s 2am I’ll wait for you, okay?’

‘Thank you’ he whispered and you could hear the emotion in his voice. Trying to gulp it down as best he could before he let you go so you could sort Gee out.

It had just gone midnight when Mason messaged you to say he was ready. He knew it was late and said if you were too tired it could wait until tomorrow but you were high on adrenaline and knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep without speaking to him first.

‘Hey’ he breathed as he answered. A little more pep in his tone which made you feel better but you knew this was going to be a hard conversation.

‘Hey Mase, how’s the hotel?’

‘Yeah it’s nice. Feels weird being in Manchester and not staying with you though’

‘I’ll see you soon though, yeah? I’m so sorry it didn’t work out how you wanted it to Mase, they’re complete dicks I swear to god’ you started but you could tell from his laugh on the other end of the line he was feeling better than earlier.

‘Y/n honestly, it’s fine. Yeah it’s sad and it sucks but I’ve had some time to think about it in the car and I think this is for the best’

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah, like don’t get me wrong It's gonna be weird and will take some getting used to but it’s a fresh start and is not like I’m completely on my own. I’ve got Luke, Harry, Rashy and Jadon there. I’m sure the other guys are nice too but it’ll help having them around’

‘You’ve got a couple of other people up here too’ you told him with a smile and it’s like you could feel his radiating down the line.

‘Oh yeah, who's that?’ he asked cheekily and it was the most normal you’d heard him sound all day.

‘Well there’s me for starters. And there’s a little girl who’s asleep next to me who thinks the absolute world of you and I know she’ll be so excited to have you close by now’ you told him. Usually she would have been asleep in her own bed but you thought she was coming down with something and wanted to check on her so she was currently snoozing away peacefully next to you.

‘Have you told her yet?’

‘No, I thought we could tell her together? You know whenever you’ve got time to come here and I can give you that hug I promised you’

‘How about tomorrow afternoon?’ He suggested and you nodded even though he couldn’t see. Happy that you were seeing him sooner than you thought you’d be able to. ‘I’ve got my medical tomorrow but I might need your help with something after’

‘Let me guess? Is it the fact you look like a highlighter right now?’ You laughed and even through the phone you could see his little embarrassed smile.

‘A little bit’ he giggled. ‘Do you think you could help me sort it out’

‘I’ll grab some dye tomorrow on my lunch break, okay?’

‘And that’s why you’re my best friend’

‘That’s me’ you gulped, the phrase rattling around in your brain a little bit and making you feel uncomfortable.

You weren’t sure if it was the fact you were feeling incredibly protective of him right now but the sound of best friend falling from his lips made you a little disappointed for some reason. You shook it off though and spoke to him for a little while longer until he sounded even more himself again before he had to go. You knew tomorrow would be a long day and he needed his sleep so with a quick goodnight you ended the call.

Mason came over at around 4pm the next day and you opened the door in a hurry. Excitedly pulling him into your arms and you didn’t miss the way he clung to you tighter than he ever had. A quiet sob falling from his lips but you heard it loud and clear and it made your heart break.

‘Oh Mase, come on let’s go and sit down’ you told him. Pulling him into the living room and popping him on the sofa but he was biting his lip to keep it all in and you didn’t want him to. ‘You don't have to put a brave face on for me okay?’

‘I know’ he sniffed, but you knew he didn’t want you to see him upset so you pulled him into your chest and let him hide his face. ‘Fuck I can’t believe it’s just over and done like that’

‘They don’t deserve your sadness. Just think of this as a new adventure okay? It’s not the one you’d planned but life works in mysterious ways’ you told him as you ran your fingers over his scalp

‘I know, thank you love’ he mumbled sleepily. Relaxing fully into your hold and you knew this was the first time he’d been able to be free with his emotions and not put on a front.

You both sat like that for about half an hour. Mason telling you all about his medical that took place and you were pleased to find out he’d passed. He hadn’t managed to see many people at the club yet though and he was hoping he could meet some of his team mates tomorrow but before long the inevitable question came from him.

‘Where’s Gee?’

‘She’s asleep’ you told him with a laugh. ‘I should wake her up soon, she was just being a right grump so I put her down for a nap. I think she’s getting a little cold’

‘Ah no, poor thing. Can I wake her up?’ He asked shyly and you were in no position to deny him. Thinking you’d probably do anything at this point to make him smile so you took his hand and squeezed it gently.

‘Go on then’ you smiled. Following him into her room where he carefully tried to wake her up and you had to hold on your giggles at the way he was being so careful not to make any noise. Laying his face next to hers whilst shaking her gently to try and wake her and you watched in delight as her face lit up at the sight of him.

‘Masey’ she mumbled sleepily. Wrapping her arms around his neck so he could lift her and you could see it as clear as day how much joy she gave him. Watching on from the doorway full of love at your two favourite people and from the way Mason was smiling at you, you knew he was feeling it too.

‘Surprise, pickle’ he laughed. ‘I thought you might not recognise me’

‘She’s been calling you candy floss head ever since I showed her the picture of you the other week’ you laughed, walking over to the pair of them so you could brush your fingers through his grown out locks and you didn’t miss the way his eyes fluttered shut at your touch.

‘Well I can’t be candy floss head anymore. Uncle masey is having his picture taken tomorrow so I need to sort the barnet out’ he told her as she joined you in touching Mason's hair. ‘You're working tomorrow aren’t you? Its okay I was just wondering if you wanted to come along with the rest of us’

‘Oh I would if I could Mase, but I’m down a few staff for holidays and if Gee is out of daycare for a day that I’ve paid for she might lose her place’ you pouted but he just nodded understandingly.

‘It’s okay, I’ll just send you updates’ he smiled. Looking back down at Gee who was smiling up at him happily. ‘Come on then, let’s sort this out’

You made him sit on the edge of the bath with the towel around his shoulders as you applied the dye. Gee watching on as you coated his hair and it was good to see she’d perked up a little bit with Mason around. Singing him the new song she’d learnt that day whilst trying to teach him the actions but he couldn’t quite get it and she would laugh hysterically each time he messed up.

Once it was all washed out and he was back to being your Mason, you made a start on dinner so you could all sit together and once it was over you could see Mason was itching to tell Gee his news.

‘Hey Gee, you know how much you love having uncle Masey around?’ You started, watching her little head nod up and down enthusiastically. ‘Well what if I told you we might be able to see him a lot more often now?’ You told her but the reality suddenly hit that you didn’t know for sure if he’d be able to see you guys anymore than he did. He just said he was moving closer and that was all. ‘Well I hope we will at least’

‘Of course you will, I’ll be bugging you everyday if I can’ he told you sincerely but you just giggled at him before he turned to Gee with a smile. ‘Uncle Masey is getting a new house not too far from here so I’ll be able to see you all the time. And we can have sleepovers and all sorts. Maybe I can come and get you from daycare sometimes? What do you think?’

She couldn’t speak much, her mouth full of pasta as Mason was still feeding her but from the way she clapped her hands and tried to laugh excitedly you could tell she was over the moon at the idea.

‘You don’t have to do that, Mase’

‘I want to though. You help me out all the time and it’s no biggie if it gives you a bit of a break. You’ve been on your own up here but you’ve got help now’ he told you sincerely and you felt your chest warm at how kind he was being. ‘Plus you guys know all the good places up here now. You need to teach me the ways’ he joked but you couldn’t wait to take him to all your favourite places properly.

Mason couldn’t stay too much longer, claiming he needed his beauty sleep so he didn’t look rough in his pictures so you let him go with the promise that he’d call you as soon as he could the next day.

You texted him that morning but didn't expect to hear from him until much later that evening though as you knew he’d had a long day but you just stepped through the door, your phone began to ring.

‘Hey, Mase. How did it go?’ You asked excitedly as soon as you answered the phone and you heard his little giggle straight away.

‘Yeah really good thanks, love. We’re just on the way back to the hotel now’ he told you and you could tell by his voice how much happier he seemed than yesterday. ‘Do you think you’d wanna join us for dinner tonight? We’re just eating there but I know Summer would love to see Gee and my mums asking after you’

‘If it gets me out of cooking then I’m all for it. Just let me know when and where and I’ll be there’ you told him and within the next half an hour you were on your way. Lewis meeting you out the front so he could take you to everyone and Gee was quick to run to Summer who gave her a big hug.

Seeing Mason's parents made you realise how much you missed your own. You saw them every so often when you made the trip home or they came to visit but being surrounded by so much love made you feel a little homesick. Gee’s birthday was coming up soon though and you knew you’d be seeing them soon which cheered you up slightly.

You sat and listened as they told you all about their day. Mason chiming in when he could but he was sitting in between Gee and Summer so he had his hands full but every so often he’d send you a warm smile that made your heart melt.

‘Gee, you wanna come up and see my room?’ He asked her as you were finishing up your dessert and you could see her nodding up at him. ‘I’ve got a little something for you up there too if you’re good’

‘What have you done? You laughed but he just looked at you with his usual cheeky smile and you couldn’t figure out what he was up to.

‘Me? Nothing’ he winked, shrugging his shoulders before leaning over the back of Gee’s chair so he could talk to you a little more privately. ‘What about you anyway, have you been good?’

‘I’m always good’ you chuckled. The question suddenly making your neck and cheeks feel hot and you didn’t miss the way his eyes flashed to your lips before he chuckled light heartedly.

‘I know you are, that’s why I’ve got something for you too’ he told you with a wink and you had to look down into your lap so no one could see how much you were blushing at his silly comment.

You bid his family farewell before he took you up to his room. Mason holding Gee’s hand as they walked in front of you down the corridor and your heart melted at the way she kept looking back and smiling at you like she was the happiest girl in the world to be with him.

Mason had that effect on people though.

Once in Mason's huge room, he sat Gee on his lap as you sat next to them as he did his best to explain to her that he was part of a new team now so he had a new kit before producing a little shirt for her. His name and new number proudly sitting on the back and after you’d helped her put it on over her dress she was straight over to the mirror to admire herself in it.

‘Number seven, yeah? Mason that’s huge’ you told him. Your voice emotional and you finally saw it in the flesh but he grabbed your hand and squeezed it gently.

‘I know’ he chuckled. ‘Big responsibility but I’m up for it. They’ve been really good to me, you know? I wanna pay it back to them’

‘Come here’ you whispered. Opening your arms and pulling him into a hug that he gladly accepted and you couldn’t get over how much you needed him close right now. The feel and smell of him brought you comfort more than anything and it was like you needed the hug just as much as he did. Knowing you’d been worrying about him for weeks but now you knew things would finally be okay made your shoulders relax.

‘I got you one too’ he mumbled. The words almost getting lost in your neck but you pulled away with a quizzical look before he was reaching over to hand you another new shirt. ‘I know it might be weird, you’ve always supported me at Chelsea so I get if you don’t wanna wear it-‘

‘Hey, I’m a you fan, Mase. I’ll support you in whatever way you need’ you smiled. ‘Plus I think I prefer the red anyway, it matches my lipstick. The blue always clashed’

‘I mean I think you look good in whatever, but I’m glad you agree’ he shrugged and you felt heat rising up your neck at his compliment.

Mason stayed in the hotel for the next few weeks until he went on tour but you knew he wasn’t happy there. People had figured out where he was and would follow him home from training so when he got back from America and he told you his house wouldn’t be ready for another week or so, you practically forced him to move in with you.

It was nice having someone to come home to, someone to cook for who wasn’t almost two years old and someone you could have an adult conversation with.

Most of the time anyway.

Gee loved having him there too by all accounts, but ever her perceptive self she knew he was about to leave soon and her mood on his last full day with you took a plumet. She couldn’t understand why he wasn’t staying with you forever and she spent most of the day in a mood on the sofa refusing to eat. The only time she came out of her shell a bit was when Mason laid down next to her and put his head in her lap and she couldn’t resist him. Giggling as she tried to hug his head and kiss it sweetly and the whole interaction made you feel softer than ever for them both.

‘You don’t need to be upset about me going, Gee. You know we’ll still see each other all the time. Even more so than we used to, okay? I’ll only be down the road’ he assured her. ‘I can’t stay away from my favourite girl for too long so I’ll be back all the time’ he explained and you felt your heart thudding in your chest during their little conversation.

Mason had always been good with kids, but to see him like this with your baby was something completely different and as much as Gee was moody that he was going, you couldn’t exactly blame her as you were feeling the same.

‘You’re so good with her’ you smiled, watching him blush slightly at your compliment as he came into the kitchen a few moments later. ‘Though I am a bit mad at you’ you huffed playfully but he took your words seriously. His face dropping as he looked at you carefully and you could see the confusion in his big brown eyes.

‘What did I do?’

‘I thought I was your favourite’ you pouted. ‘I know she’s just a baby but I’ve known you longer’ you teased. Trying your hardest to look upset but he saw right through it. Giggling as he grabbed your waist and when he pulled you into a hug you relaxed as he held you.

‘You know you’ll always be my number one girl’ he told you softly. The words getting lost in your hair but that didn’t mean they lost their effect. Your skin breaking out in goosebumps as you tried to stop the giant smile at the thought of still being his favourite person but before you could tell him he was your number one too, he carried on speaking. ‘But since you decided to clone yourself, unfortunately you’re gonna have to share me’

You didn’t know what it was, but the thought of sharing Mason with anyone but Gee made you feel uncomfortable. Your smile dropping instantly as you instinctively held him closer but he squeezed you back just as tight before dropping a kiss on your head and pulling away.

Mason was yours, no one else’s

You remember thinking years ago that you’d have to put up with the person chose as his his own one day, just like Mason had done for you with Jack but now the prospect filled you with dread.

You didn’t want to see him with anyone else. The thought of him touching anyone else, kissing someone else… you hated the idea of it to the point it made your skin feel hot and clammy.

You knew you were being selfish, Mason wasn’t yours and you’d told him you didn’t see him in a romantic way but the thought suddenly hit you that if no one else could have him then what did that mean?

Did that mean you had to have him?

You’d never given being with him much thought, yes you knew he still harboured some feelings for you, at least he’d admitted as much around a year ago now but Mason had always been your best friend and you never really had time to sit and think about how your relationship had grown.

But now?

He was your safe place. Your light in the dark when things were going wrong and you felt hopeless. The boy that made you laugh when you needed it and held you when you needed that too.

The boy who’d taken on your plus one like she was his own and did everything he could in his power to keep the both of you happy and safe.

He made you feel like a family

You loved Mason. Loved him more than you realised or could possibly explain to anyone else as it only made sense to you but the possibility of now being in love with him was smacking you in the face.

He was over by the stove and you turned to steal a glance of him. His brows pinched and lips pouty as he stirred the pot you’d abandoned and you were filled with that same warm feeling. Like he was human sunshine and all you wanted was to bask in his glow but clearly you’d gotten yourself wrapped up in your feelings a little too much until the sound of his voice was snapping you out of your trance.

‘Have I got something on my face?’ He asked, wiping his cheek softly but you just smiled shyly at him.

‘Oh, n-no you’re good’

‘Stop looking at me like that’ he laughed, wrapping his arms around your shoulders but you were thankful that you could hide your face and the blush that had taken over your cheeks. ‘When Gee’s gone to bed, do you fancy watching a movie? Just us’

‘Yes please’ you whispered. Excited about the prospect of some alone time with him and with a quick kiss to your head he walked back over to the stove.

You had a few veggies left to chop so you asked him to keep on stirring the sauce whilst you chatted lightly and clearly he got a bit too confident as he went a bit too quickly and slopped some sauce on the side which he quickly cleaned with the nearest cloth.

‘Oh Mase’ you huffed. ‘That's a clean tea towel’

‘Sorry love’ he gulped, looking more guilty than he should but you just took it from him with a smile.

‘It’s fine, between you a Jack I’ve gotten used to it over the years. Must be a bloody boy's thing to stain everything’ you told him as you chucked it by the washing machine. When you looked back at him though he was facing away from you however his neck was red and you could see his shoulders were tense. ‘Mase? You alright?’

‘Yeah fine, I’m gonna go set the table’ he told you and without another look he was gone.

In typical Mason fashion he fell asleep watching your movie that night so you coaxed him onto your chest so he could get comfortable but you also used it as a bit of an excuse just to look at him for a bit. His adorable cheek squished as he laid there with his lips slightly open and you had to stop yourself from leaning down and kissing him. Shaking yourself out of your trance as a wave of confusion rolled over you and you sat there blankly looking at the screen.

This new found need to comfort him and love on him was overwhelming but you hadn’t vocalised anything yet and you knew you needed a big gossip session with Ell before you took any next steps. The kissing part was new though and you couldn’t tell if you were thrilled or horrified by it.

You couldn't stop thinking about him. Flicking through all the pictures he’d sent your way lately when you were in bed every night but the more you thought about being with him and everything it would entail, the more you realised it might not work.

You didn’t even know if he still felt the same after all these years. Yes you’d overheard him talking to Gee over a year ago but that was then and this was now. It has been years and you’d never shown him any inkling of wanting anything more, at least you didn’t think you had, and you were pretty sure he’d told her that he was learning to move on. He must have done that by now surely?

You were snapped out of your thoughts soon enough as you heard your front door being opened. It was a Wednesday so that meant Mason was picking Gee up from daycare and they were back for their dinner.

‘Hello love!’ Gee called excitedly as soon as she saw you. Storming over as quickly as her little legs would carry her and you chuckled at Mason's bemused face as you picked her up for a cuddle.

‘Love? Have I missed something?’ He asked but little did he know he was at fault for it.

‘She’s been calling me that for the last few days. I think she’s picked it up from you’ you told him. Kissing her cheek softly as you placed her on the counter so you could carry cooking.

‘Oh Gee’ he laughed standing in front of her and she sent him a giddy smile as he trapped her in between his arms that were leaning on the side. ‘That's mummy, not love’ he explained but you weren’t sure she was even listening properly. ‘She’s my love, but your mummy’

My love.

You hoped he didn’t hear the little gasp that fell from your lips at his words or the way you almost dropped your spoon into the sauce you were stirring but thankfully when you finally looked up Mason was still talking away with Gee and seemed none the wiser.

‘Do you think you could help me out for Gee’s party?’ You asked, trying to change the subject so you didn’t fixate on what had just been said and even though he was playing it cool, you could tell he was happy you’d asked him.

‘Of course, what do you need me to do?’

‘Well I was hoping you could take her out for the morning? Ell said she’d come over and help me decorate and then you could bring her over when it’s all done? Like for the big surprise?’

‘Oh thank god, I thought you wanted me to blow balloons up and as much as I love her I don’t think I’ve got the lungs for it’ he chuckled. ‘Oh wait, I thought your parents were coming up, do you not want them to have her?’

‘No that's a surprise too’ you nodded. ‘If she knows they’re here then she’ll be suspicious. I want her to see everyone all together’

‘Okay, yeah’ he smiled, nodding enthusiastically before turning back to Gee so he could plan their day together.

When the morning of the party came Mason was over early to get Gee and once she was all packed up they were off and out. Mason promising he’d message you with updates as soon as he could but you weren’t expecting one half an hour later no matter how cute it was.

You and Ell were the dream team. Decorating your house in record time with giant animal balloons and bunting that looked like giant leaves. You were going for a jungle theme as you’d managed to pass down your love of the outdoors to her, and the most important decoration was the giant giraffe balloon that you had tied to the back of her chair.

Gem the giraffe was Gee’s favourite toy. Her little comfort animal she’d had from the day she was born and she was rarely seen without it much to Mason's delight. Telling you all the time it was a good job he’d found it in the gift shop and it was the best £15 he’d ever spent but clearly today he was out to spend even more.

That's how most of the morning went. You and Ell working away as Mason sent you lots of updates and you wondered if it was because he was feeling nervous about his first time looking after her properly. He had her once a week all on his own but this was for a lot longer and you could tell he was worried about doing something wrong.

Soon enough guests were arriving. Noah and Tommy were the first to arrive as they’d been to pick up the cake and after your parents arrived you couldn’t contain your emotions. It had only been two months since you’d seen them but you missed them terribly being so far away and you always felt whole when they were up here with you.

You didn’t invite too many people, just a few of Gee’s little friends from daycare with their parents and Mason asked if Luke and his kids could pop by so you were excited to have them there. Luke had always been a sweetheart to you and you were excited to meet Anouska and talk to her about the little one she was currently growing.

You’d packed Gee a dress in her bag and you asked Mason to put her in just before they got back. Hoping that the pair of them could avoid staining it if she didn’t have it on all day and as you watched them walk up the drive hand in hand, you couldn’t contain your laugh as he’d kept on her new trainers with it.

She looked adorable though and when Mason walked her into the living room her face was a picture. Not knowing where to look as there were so many of her favourite people in one room shouted surprise but she was straight to you so she could show you her new shoes.

‘Very nice, baby’ you giggled. Kissing her cheek and wrapping her up in a big hug before everyone else came over to say hello and hand her a present. You could have cried from the soft little fank yews she gave everyone and the big smile she kept sending your way. Knowing she wasn’t 100% sure what was going on but she was happy nonetheless.

Gee wasn’t exactly shy, but you could see how much she loved being the centre of attention. Eventually going to join her little friends from daycare along with Luke’s kids so you could start the party games and before you could even think Mason was by your side with the gift you’d wrapped for pass the parcel. His phone already synced to your speaker and you could see Luke laughing at the way he seemed so into everything out of the corner of your eye.

‘Go sit next to her, I’ll do this bit’ he smiled and you quickly kissed his cheek before joining her. Only noticing around halfway through that he had a massive kiss mark on his cheek from your red lipstick but when Lewis turned up he was quick to wipe it off whilst teasing him.

Throughout the afternoon he was the perfect host. Constantly clearing up any mess he saw and making sure all the snack bowls were full. Doing the rounds and making sure both him and Gee got to speak to everyone and you almost lost it when you walked into the kitchen to find him wearing your favourite pink washing up gloves. He was so in the zone as he scrubbed away he didn’t see you looking at him until you approached and you knew his cheeks were burning.

‘Mason? What are you doing?’ You giggled but he just looked at you shyly before going back to washing up.

‘Just getting some of this done so there’s not loads to do later’

‘I didn’t invite you here to wash up’ you laughed. ‘Come on, I know you love a bit of pin the tail on the elephant’

‘You’re not wrong’ he laughed, placing the final plate into the drying rack and peeling your gloves off. ‘Come on let’s 1v1, I bet I’ll beat you’

‘You haven't changed, have you?’

‘Never have, never well’ he told you proudly as he swung an arm around your shoulders and you felt your love for him consume you.

‘Good’ you whispered, the pair of you seemingly getting lost in each other's eyes a bit but Mason ruined the moment by flicking your nose playfully before roughing your hair up.

‘I really like the theme you’ve gone with’ he told you as you walked back to join the rest of the party. ‘Reminds me of the parties we had as kids’

‘I just wanted her to have good memories like we did growing up’ you told him and you hoped she would. She seemed happy enough running around with all her friends whilst your mum fed her snacks every so often and as you looked around the room you knew you were right where you both needed to be.

‘Well with you as her mummy I know she will’ Mason told you. Snapping you out of your thoughts quickly but your eyes welling up immediately at his words. ‘I’m serious y/n. She’s the sweetest, funniest little girl and you should be so proud of yourself. You’re doing such a good job I promise’

‘Oh Mase’ you blubbed. Not realising how much you needed to hear that from someone and you quickly covered your face with your hands so he couldn’t see you cry.

‘Well that wasn’t meant to happen’ Mason laughed. Pulling you into his body so he could hold you tightly to chest as he rubbed your back.

‘Sorry, it just means a lot you know’ you told him and he nodded. ‘In the interest of saying thank you, then I need to tell you the same. I didn’t realise how much I needed someone until you got here and I appreciate everything you do for the both of us. I love you so much, Mase. You know that, right?’

‘And I love you just as much’ he told you softly. Wondering if he still meant it in the way he used to but his eyes were blurry from his tears and you couldn’t tell.

Once the pair of you were presentable again you re joined the party. Mason beating you at pin the tail on the elephant which he was more than happy about and you knew when it came down to just the pair of you for musical chairs he let you win. You still took it though and lauded it over him for the next hour until you needed his help. Taking his wrist and pulling him into the kitchen where he was looking at you with a surprised smile.

‘I’m gonna do the cake now’ you told him. ‘Would you grab Gee and sit with her at the table so I can bring it over?’

‘Yeah? You sure’ he asked with a coy smile. This felt like a big deal to him, like he was the special person who got to share this moment with her but you knew there was no one else you wanted sat with her. ‘Do you not want to sit with her? Or your parents?’

‘No I want you to do it’ you nodded. ‘I’ll only be a few minutes so be quick’ you told him and he was off before you could say anything else.

Once the candles were lit, you quickly chanced a look around the corner to make sure everyone was ready but the sight in front of you made your heart flutter. Mason sat to the table with Gee in his lap but all the other kids were around him as they listened to him telling them all they had to sing really loud so the whole street could hear them and they were nodding excitedly as they got themselves ready.

You gave a quick nod to your mum. Letting her know it was okay to turn the light off before you came in with the cake. The whole room singing to your baby as she clapped along with pure joy written all over her face but when you caught eyes with Mason you were smiling even wider. Popping the cake down in front of her as Mason was trying to teach her how to blow the candles out but she didn’t quite have the lungs for it. Both you and Mason helping her out in the end but you made out it was her and she was pretty proud of herself.

You cut up the cake so there was enough to go around and by the time everyone had a bit Gee happily munching away at hers so you joined her at the table with Mason.

‘Mumma, you wanna come sit with Gee?’ Mason asked but there was no way you were interrupting the perfect scene in front of you.

‘No it’s okay, you carry on’ you smiled enjoying watching him feed her little spoonfuls of cake but as the pair of you began to chat a little more he slowed down and she began to huff. His multitasking skills clearly failing him at this moment and you covered your mouth as you smiled at them.

‘Quick Masey, more’ she told him. Tapping his wrist gently to get him to speed up but he just laughed and rested his head on top of hers.

‘Sorry baby’ he chucked. Rolling his eyes at you at her sassiness but he sped up. Smiling as she hummed in satisfaction and rubbed her tummy like it was the best thing she’d ever eaten but you could tell Mason was missing out so you loaded up a fork and held it up to him. His cheeks flaming as he caught onto what you were offering him but he gladly accepted. Eyes boring into yours as he wrapped his lips around your fork and the moment was more intense and intimate that you could have imagined.

‘I can see why you want me to be quick now, Gee. That's some good cake, huh?’ He asked her, looking away as you coughed awkwardly and began to tidy around you as not to arouse suspicion as you knew you were blushing a little bit. You could see his eyes following you as he smiled softly though and the next time you looked his way you shared a soft giggle.

It was around an hour later when the last guests started to leave. Only Mason, Lewis and your parents remaining as you tidied up the last few plates but Gee was eager to play with her presents so you all sat In the living room

‘Hey, Gee? You wanna come get the surprise with me?’ Mason asked quietly as he sat with her on the floor. She was currently dressed in the vet dressing up set one of her little friends had gotten her as she gave her Gem a check up but with an excited giggle, Mason led her to the back room where she emerged moments later with a bag almost as big as her.

‘What’s this?’ You laughed. Taking it from her before she fell but as soon as you spotted the red box you knew what was going on.

‘Fank you for birfday mumma’ she laughed, clapping her hands as you took the box out of the bag.

‘That’s okay baby’ you beamed. Kissing her cheek as she pulled you in for a hug but soon enough she sat next to you in anticipation. Your eyes flying up to Masons immediately who sent you a quick wink and you dived back in to pull out the green Nikes that matched Gee’s and Masons. ‘Really Mase?’ You laughed but he just shrugged.

‘What? Can’t have you feeling left out can we’ he joked. ‘Are they okay?’

‘They’re perfect, thank you’

‘Thats okay’ he beamed. ‘I got you a little something else actually, come with me?’ he asked as he held his hand out to help pull you up and you practically ignored everyone else as you followed him into your kitchen.

You spotted it straight away. Sitting in your windowsill proudly in a new pot and your heart was hammering in your ears at the sight of it.

‘Is that an orchid?’

‘Yeah, I don’t know what happened to yours but I saw it was missing the other day so I replaced it’ he told you proudly and you felt your eyes sting.

‘Oh Mase’ you pouted. ‘I accidentally killed the other one’

‘Oh’ he laughed. Wrapping an arm around you so he could pull you flush against him and once he had you hid yourself on his shoulder. Feeling his lips on to crown of your head as he peppered small kisses there and the action made you hold him even tighter. ‘Consider this a second chance then’

Thats all you were asking for, all you needed from him.

A second chance.

To tell him how you really felt now. That he was your one and that you were sorry you never saw it sooner and if he let you, you’d make him so so happy.

You were just praying that moment would come for you soon.

Tag list - @saltyheartnightmare @harvestmount @prideofpd @sid-vii @carlottawllms @footiehoemcfc @katharinanadiaa @whenelifallsinlove @neverinadream @cityzenchick @msnmnt @stikkibun @masonmtxo @chillymountsjess @yoursselo @maseymm @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps @leclerc13

[frvnkcastles]

I just know Frank would feel a different type of pride if reader got her nails done and got the color he suggested.😌☝🏼 He’s like “damn she actually took my opinion into consideration”

YOU PUT MY HEAD IN SUCH A FLURRY ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: You involve Frank in getting your nails done, much to his surprise and delight.

Warnings: Implied sexual content, mostly just fluff, feminine nicknames, language

Word count: 1k

Author’s note: Okay this was supposed to be just a drabble but it kinda got away from me. Anon, you’re absolutely right, he would be so invested and he’d think about it nonstop for days. This was such a wholesome idea, I hope I made it justice <3

He thought it was so silly that you would ask for his opinion on the matter. You getting your nails done in itself wasn’t silly in the slightest — in fact, he enjoyed seeing you get all dolled up and more importantly, he loved how confident you seemed afterwards. It was obviously important to you, and he went out of his way to encourage it, either by driving you to your appointments or even paying for the whole thing.

But asking for his thoughts? He didn’t know what to say, stunned speechless as you stared at him sweetly and expectantly, genuinely curious as to what he was going to answer. He wasn’t stylish or fashionable at all, and he definitely didn’t understand the first thing about color-coding nor did he stay on top of the latest trends. So, when you wondered what he thought your next nail color should be, he struggled to come up with a response.

”Uh… I dunno, darlin’. Don’t wanna give you the wrong answer”, he replied while scratching the back of his neck, his current task of cooking for you on hold as he watched you smile up at him from across the kitchen counter. He knew exactly what your favorite color was, but he supposed that would have been the obvious, no-effort choice.

You chuckled softly, a little amused by his hesitation. ”There’s no right or wrong answer, baby. I just think it’d be nice to have something you picked for me”, you shrugged, insisting that it was just a very casual thing and not something he needed to start sweating over.

A sheepish smile crossed his lips. He was a big fan of your every-day outfits, the way you did your make-up, and yes, also your nails. He knew it mattered to you, so it meant a lot to him that you wanted to involve him in the process.

”Aight, uh, I’mma go with red. Y’know I fuckin’ love seein’ you in red”, he huffed, riled up at the mere thought. It was true — there was no color he didn’t appreciate on you, but whenever you were dressed in red especially, something in him just came to life in a whole new way. He had shown you his admiration multiple times, occasionally resulting in you being late to wherever you were headed just because he couldn’t keep his hands off of you.

You blushed and nodded, receptive to the idea. ”Red it is. Think you can handle it, Frankie?” you teased, very aware of the effect it would have on him. He played it cool, though.

”Guess we’ll have to see, sweetheart”, he challenged you, grinning in that charming way that made your head spin every time.

After the lunch he had been making for you, it was time for your appointment and he made it his responsibility to drive you there, his hand on your thigh as he steered the car. And when you walked in the salon, he held your hand all the way until he couldn’t anymore, giving a look to your go-to nail artist.

”Take good care of my girl, yeah?” he requested, half-joking even if the look in his eyes was grave. You couldn’t hold back a smile, butterflies in your stomach all thanks to his protectiveness over you.

He spent the whole appointment seated in the small waiting area, and the sight of him was so endearing. He wouldn’t touch any of the magazines available, just sat there with his hands folded in front of him and his eyes scanning the area over and over again. Every now and then his alert stare would land on you, and it cracked his stoic expression each time, a small smile tugging on his lips as he watched you ramble to your nail artist about your week.

When you were finally done, you pranced over to Frank, smiling widely and waving your hands in the air with excitement. His heart swelled at your joy, and he tilted his head at you curiously, waiting to see what kind of a look you ended up with.

When he saw the red on your nails, surprise dawned on his face and his smile dropped — not because he didn’t like it, but because he was just that amazed you had taken his opinion into consideration.

”You went with red?” he asked, eyes wide as he met your gaze, so kind and soft. You didn’t really understand what the big deal was, and a little laugh escaped you.

”Of course, I did. That’s what you said, silly”, you reminded, and nodding to confirm, Frank chuckled quietly.

”Yeah, yeah, I did. Just didn’t think… I dunno, just a lil surprised you thought my opinion was that important”, he tried explaining his own surprise, his eyebrows knitted together as he observed the nails, his hand gently grasping yours. You let him take it all in, tilting your hands back and forth to fully appreciate the shine and the details, and it boosted your ego beyond belief. Your nails were a big part of your appearance, and it felt good that Frank always showed love for them, even if he didn’t entirely get it.

”Your opinion is the most important. And now, every time I look at my nails, I’ll think of you”, you explained shyly. Truly touched by your consideration of him, he looked into your eyes and closed the distance between your lips. The kiss was short and sweet, appropriate for being in public, but he hoped it conveyed just how special this moment was to him. And in case it wasn’t, he was already decided on kissing you a lot more at home.

”I’preciate it, sweetheart. Looks real good”, he praised, taking one last look at your nails. Pride surged in his chest — he would have never wanted to take your independence from you, but he liked feeling like he had some kind of claim you. A part of him was with you now, and while it wasn’t permanent, it was enough for him to feel particularly cocky. He had the best girl by his side, after all.

”My gorgeous girl, goddamn”, he muttered under his breath, finding the red incredibly attractive, and it made you grin.

Surely, he was going to show you just how much he liked it later tonight. And he definitely was going to ride this high for days.

[destinationtrekk]

domestic wesker headcanons (afab!reader)

a/n: i’m obsessed with the idea of him being vulnerable and finally trusting someone. I also did not mean for this to be so long LOL I might do a part two without smut nsfw below the cut, 18+ only

afab!reader, descriptions of choking, breeding, penetration, dacryphilia, finishing inside, probably more i’m missing, not beta read

masterlist

sfw:

After the whole ‘Spencer/Wesker Project debacle’ (as you had dubbed it in your head) ended, Albert opened up to you a lot….like surprisingly a lot.

you had noticed a lot on your own too though. the first being that he was a smoker

you could smell it faintly on his coat after a long day at the labs, and on his breath when he woke you to kiss you goodbye in the early mornings

you finally brought it up one day, casually asking if you should pick up a pack for him on the way back from running errands

you’ll never forget the way his face lit up red and how he sputtered like a fish out of water

he ignored you for a few hours, and then finally asked if it bothered you, avoiding your gaze

you laughed and told him you didn’t really mind, and over time you found out more

he was a chain smoker at the peak of Umbrella, right before they had perfected the T-virus (it was the ‘80s after all) but he had stopped when he joined the Army.

Then while he was in S.T.A.R.S. the stress of being a double, then triple agent got to him. He didn’t smoke nearly as much, but he couldn’t help a cig or two after a hard day

something else you’ve noticed is that he’s a perfect driver. You don’t think he even speeds, or rolls through stop signs when he’s in a hurry.

You think those are perfectly normal things, but he is very adamant that you should not be reckless in his nice cars, which, okay yeah

but he explains that he was mainly escorted during his Umbrella days, rarely having time or need to go somewhere alone until the end of it all

then he had been reprimanded for cruising a liiiittle too much in his S.T.A.R.S. cruiser, and that had been that

you do appreciate his driving when he’s taking you home after you’ve had too many drinks though

nsfw:

despite everyone thinking he’s a sadistic machine, I think he is very much the opposite

growing up women were the last thing on his scientific mind, and then he was much too busy for anything other than a one night stand every other now and then

now though, he comes home so tired he can barely keep his eyes open

It’s not like you two never sleep together. Quite the opposite in fact. Albert is a very generous lover, going as many rounds as you ask until he’s either too tired or you’re spent.

he’s got amazing stamina, even when he’s mentally drained. he prefers to take his time with you, making you finish at least once before he even touches himself

looooves to just grind against your pussy and get himself slick with your juices before he thrusts inside, adores the way his cockhead catches on your clit and how you twitch and gasp beneath him

he also loves to push in as slow as he can, making you feel every inch of him stretching your hole

this man whimpers! he moans and whines and pants in your ear like he’s been starved of touch and it turns you on just as much as his calloused hands do.

he doesn’t actually talk all that much, except to encourage you with that’s it, fuck, I’m close, let go, honey, or he’ll ask what you want him to do - unless he’s feeling fuck nasty (love that phrase)

sometimes he just needs a release, to expel all the pent up frustration, and you’re the perfect solution

he won’t even say hello when he gets home, just finds you and paws at your body like an animal until you tell him yes or no

if you say no, he respects you. completely, one hundred percent. you’re the most important thing in his life, and it’s not even enjoyable to him if you aren’t eager and willing

if you say yes though, he will be all over you. Clothes are flying off and somehow you’ve made it across the house into bed without his mouth leaving your lips and skin

he loves to take you face down when he’s like this, your ass in the air so he can lean over you and pin you down with his weight, groaning and panting in your ear while he fucks you so hard you can barely even make a sound

even when he’s tearing apart your insides, he still likes to intertwine your fingers where you’re gripping the sheets. he just covers it up as needing to hold you still

this is when he really talks, he actually won’t shut up, not that you’re complaining. he’s telling you how tight you are, how you squeeze him like a vice and he can barely pull out. the slick sounds of your hole are driving him crazy, he can’t wait to see your pretty tears when you cum around him, love your sweet wet little hole, pet

sometimes he likes to be rough, pulling your hair, wrapping his long thick fingers around your throat to tug you up into a sloppy kiss, gripping your hips and waist in a bruising hold, so tight you can’t even meet his pounding thrusts

always asks to finish inside you. he’s not really into breeding all that much, he’s just obsessed with the way his cum leaks out of your hole and how it leaves his cock sticky and shiny when he pulls out

surprisingly good at aftercare, cleans you up and holds you until you decide to get up or eventually just fall asleep on top of him. he secretly loves this part just as much as the sex, but he won’t admit it

but that’s a whole other post

[erwinsvow]

YOU LOOK SO SWEET — RC.

“i can’t believe you made out with sarah’s brother,” your friend comments. you choke on your water. 

it had been an hour or so since your friends had dragged you out of the bar, bringing you home with them for the pre-planned sleepover that you had been ready to ditch for rafe. in that time you and your friends had taken off your makeup and changed into pajamas, munching on pizza on the floor of your bedroom while discussing the night’s events like you always did. you wipe your mouth, looking up at them incredulously. 

“what?” 

“you didn’t know that was rafe cameron? shut up.”

“he’s a psycho, that’s what she always says-”

“he was really nice to me,” you defend, not liking the way your friends sound right now. the rest of the night goes like that—you trying to counter and justify everything rafe did for you last night with your friends telling you it’s a good thing they dragged you away. 

they fall asleep shortly after, but you lie awake, staring at the ceiling and wondering what time your friends will leave in the morning. you’re making plans to go to tannyhill. 

normally breakfast the morning after going out is a sacred ritual between you and your friends, which is why they’re extra surprised when you usher them out without any real reason. you hurry back to the kitchen after their car drives away, getting everything ready to make cookies and wondering which kind rafe likes best.

rafe sees it from inside tannyhill—the white bike with the wicker basket pulling up the driveway, the tiny figure dressed in pink parking it next to his truck. you climb off your bike and even from up here he can appreciate how short your dress is, how you almost gave the gardeners a show. he's gotta teach you to be more careful.

you reach into the basket to pull out a matching pink container, walking up to the front door. he’s down the stairs and opening the door before you’ve even had a chance to ring the doorbell. 

you beam at rafe, hoping he remembers you and wasn’t drunk during that entire encounter. you smile brightly, offering the pink box of cookies to him.

“sorry to just drop by like this. i made cookies for you. um, to say thank you.”

“yeah, kid? that’s real cute.”

“oh. thank you.” he looks down at you, leaning against the door frame.

your chest is heaving, material of your tight dress moving up and down while you keep your gaze fixed on him, eyes big and blinking fast. you don’t even realize how you look right now, trusting and innocent and staring up at rafe like you’d do whatever he asked. if you looked like prey yesterday night, you’re the definition of an offering today, walking straight into the predator’s den.

“i didn’t know what kind you liked, so i made a whole bunch.”

“yeah?”

“yeah.” you stare back at rafe for another few seconds, then tear your eyes away. you think he wants you to go, and as much as you like him, as much as you feel a little brainless around him, you’re not stupid—you can tell when you’re not wanted. “well, i should go. thanks again for last night.”

“stop thankin’ me. it was nothin’.” rafe steps out of the house, just a foot from you on the porch now. his hand comes to rest on your shoulder and you nearly jump at the touch. “come inside. can’t eat all these myself.”

your pretty smile comes rushing back, following him inside just like you had followed him to the dance floor yesterday, looking around at the walls of tannyhill. you’d been once before, years ago for a party for sarah’s birthday that the entire class had been invited to,  but you hadn’t admired it then. nor did you realize what other treasures laid inside.

“want milk?” rafe questions, opening up the fridge while you rest your hands on the marble island in the kitchen. you nod your head, still looking around and taking in the new environment. rafe comes back to you with the jug of milk and two glasses, pouring you a cup first.

“how was the rest of your night?” you ask tentatively, breaking an oatmeal raisin cookie in half and offering rafe the other piece. he accepts it with a grin. you’re nervous—scared of the answer, wondering if another girl took your place after you left.

“boring. i left after you did.” he bites into the cookie, and then takes a sip of milk. if he thought you were beaming earlier, you’re radiant now—looking up at him like he’s hung the moon for you. your laugh—and even that’s pretty—fills the room.

“that’s not how you’re supposed to do it, rafe,” you giggle, dipping your own cookie into the milk first to demonstrate. “see?”

it’s quick. rafe takes your wrist into his hand, guiding it up to your mouth, making you take a bite. he doesn’t let go while he speaks, either.

“now it’s soggy. see?” you nod, watching where he’s touching you with big eyes. if you’re this reactive to a little skin contact, he’s dying to see what you’ll be like naked in his bed. he reminds himself to be patient.

“i didn’t realize i was doing it wrong,” you comment, picking up another cookie, this time snickerdoodle, to break in half. he’s half surprised at your compliance, half wondering what else he could convince you of with a little manhandling and kissing.

“don’t worry, kid. i’ll teach you right and wrong.”

[luveline]

What about Eddie comforting sunshine reader? Like she’s worried they’ll break up bc of how different they are

thank you for your request! —you worry that you and eddie are too different to last. he changes your mind. fem!reader, fluff + hurt/comfort, 1.3k

"Can I turn this?" Eddie asks. 

You look up from your nails as soon as you can, meeting Eddie's eyes before following his hand and gaze to the rearview mirror. 

"Yeah, 'course you can. I'll turn it back." 

Eddie nods appreciatively and turns your rearview to face him in the passenger seat. His van can't make big trips without blowing a gasket or springing a leak, leaving you behind the wheel of your slightly less dilapidated Escort for tonight's excursion. 

You tear your attention from him to put the brush back into your precariously balanced nail polish and crank down the window, airing out the fumes. Eddie hasn't complained about the smell. He complains about lots of things, but never you. 

That doesn't mean he isn't thinking those complaints, though.

The longer he goes without chastising you, the more you worry. Eventually, you're going to irritate him. You'll be too loud, too saccharine, too much. 

"Got your glitters?" he asks, pulling down the soft skin under his eye, eyeliner pencil poised at his waterline 

"What?" 

Eddie pencils eyeliner under his bottom lashes. "For your nails." 

You watch him draw a messy line. He knows what he wants and after a handful of seconds he's rubbing it out with his pinky fingertip and moving to his other eye. 

"Sweetheart?" Eddie asks. 

"What?" 

Eddie stops drawing on his eyeliner to look at you with fond puzzlement. "Is something wrong?" 

He looks casually cool in his way. Dark hair darker in the evening light, pale skin blown out and his eyes big and sugary. You look at him and feel melted by your affection for him, wanting to reach out and wrap a ringlet of his hair around your finger teasingly, or pet the slope of his cheek with the back of your hand. 

Especially when he's asking you questions like that, delivered without any grandeur. 

"No, I don't think so. Why, is something wrong with you?" You lean back in your chair and close your eyes. "I'm tired already. We need to stop making late night plans." 

"We could get a motel if you don't wanna drive again tonight." You don't see Eddie turn back to his make up, assuming he does when the weight of his gaze is alleviated, and his words come out distractedly slow, "I know that there's… something bothering you. Tell me what it is so I can kiss it better." 

"You'd like that, Munson," you tease. 

"I'd really like that. It would be the highlight of my night." 

There's a wooden plink of the pencil being dropped and the plastic sound of the glove compartment being opened and quickly closed. You spy through barely parted lashes as Eddie leans across the console, eyes widening to look down your nose while he draws ever closer. 

He kisses you quickly, misaligned but well-meaning. 

"Tell me what's wrong and I'll make it worth it," Eddie promises. He's flirting now, the cadence of his voice rougher, his brows lifting ever so slightly. "Is it something serious?" 

"Not really," you say, leaning back as his hand finds your hip, and his index finger slides under the hem of your t-shirt. 

He draws a ticklish circle. "You know I wanna hear it? Whatever it is…" His middle finger joins his index, then his whole hand is under your shirt and sliding across your naked stomach. 

You laugh and clamp a hand down on him. "It's stupid, and it'll sound stupider out loud." 

"Nice, I like stupid shit. If you don't tell me we'll just have to play hooky in your cold car all night and miss the show." He says it like that's more than alright in his book —he makes playing hooky sound like staying at the Ritz.

He pulls you as close to him as he can considering your impossible seats and brings his free hand to your neck. "If you tell me, I'll give you one of those massages you just hate," he offers quietly, the slightest dip of salaciousness all but smothered in concern. 

You won't torture him, even if admitting what's wrong will make you feel like you're standing naked by the side of the I-64. 

"Do you ever worry that me and you are too different?" you ask. 

"Too different?" he repeats, giving your hip a mindless squeeze. "I've never worried that, no." 

"Just 'cos, you're all– you like rock shows 'n' macabre movies. You hate the radio, you say that the colour yellow gives you a headache–" 

"I don't hate yellow." 

"You squint when I wear my yellow sweatshirt." 

Eddie nods severely. "Well, you figured us out. We should break up now, before we get any more serious." He lifts your chin with his thumb and guides your face to his for a kiss. "You don't mind rock shows," he says against your lips, tip of his thumb stroking a short, soft line. 

"I like 'em 'cos they make you happy." 

"That's why I don't hate the radio, either. I don't like half of the stuff they play, but I leave it on because I," —his lips move to the corner of your lips, dipping in for a kiss and then sitting back in his seat— "love to watch you." 

"What, when I do my Madonna impression?" you ask jokingly. 

Eddie's answering smile is far from joking. "I love all your impressions. I love everything you do, all that shit that makes us different are just reasons I like you. Your long stories, your magazine quizzes, your glittery nails. I really like your nails." 

"You do?" you ask. 

"It's nice when you ask me what colours to use, and you make a really cute face when you put the glitter on with a toothpick." He scrunches his eyes. "Like this." 

You laugh, startled. "That's me?" 

"That's you." Eddie brings both hands to your face and presses his thumbs to the apple of your cheeks. He turns your head gently from left to right. "Do you think we're too different?" 

"Kind of. What if you get tired of it, you know? What if one day you look over and you think, fuck, I wish the radio would just break already?" 

Eddie laughs with a giggle bordering ecstatic, a matching smile playing over his pretty mouth. "That's not going to happen!" he says through it, thumbs rubbing a steady back and forth into your cheeks. "I'm never going to look at you and think that. The only stuff I think about when I look at you is how I fucking worship you, baby." 

You turn your cheek indulgently into his hand, like the girls in the chick flicks with the handsome movie stars. He doesn't look like the average leading man, but all the things that disqualify him for pop movies are the things that drew you in —his unruly curls, his dark tattoos, the funny way he smirks like he's the only one who knows a scandalous secret. 

He smiles at you now like you know the secret too. 

"Let's stay different," Eddie says, hands falling to yours to give them a shake. "We only need one thing in common." 

You lean over the console. He's right, you decide, as his soft lips press against the seam of your own, encouraging you to part them gently. Your noses press together, Eddie's hand sliding up your forearm, that common thing sewn into each millimetre of movement and every second of his kiss. The only thing you need to be the same between you is how you feel about one another. 

Plus, he worships you? 

You hook an arm behind his head and pull him closer. Your twin smiles make it hard to kiss, but you keep trying.

[reverie-starlight]

happy birthday miya twins!!!!

here’s an atsumu fic to celebrate and also to make up for the fact only osamu got one last year :3

gn!reader, no physical descriptions. very very very very soft because of course it is. also a bit suggestive at the start. not edited, it’s like 1 am :D

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

you’ve had a busy morning.

atsumu’s birthday just so happened to fall on a saturday this year, meaning you get him all to yourself for the first few hours.

you’ve been up since six, finalizing some top secret plans with your friend over the phone and decorating the living room with tons of streamers and a few balloons.

it’s a miracle you were even able to get out of bed- usually atsumu’s got his arms wrapped around you with the same amount of strength a child grips their favourite teddy with, but you managed to escape.

now that it’s nearly eight o’clock and all the preparations are done, you quickly make your way back to the bedroom and slip under the covers so you can be his wake up call.

pressing kisses against his bare chest has always been the easiest way to pull him out of his dreams, and today is no exception. atsumu stirs a bit and slowly opens his eyes, smiling slightly when he realizes what’s going on.

“happy birthday, lover boy,” you murmur right against his heart.

his hand finds the back of your head with one hand and scratches at your scalp while he rubs sleep from his eyes with the other. “thanks, baby.”

you move up a bit so that you’re now hovering over him, face to face. “sleep well?”

he yawns and rests his arms around your waist. “mhm, ‘cause I dreamt about ya.”

you smile down at him and mindlessly stroke your knuckles over either side of his jaw. he’s infuriatingly pretty despite just waking up. his hair is a mess, his eyes are still bleary, but he’s absolutely the most handsome man you’ve ever laid eyes on. “yeah? what exactly did you dream about?”

he snickers. “if I told ya, I have a feelin’ this mornin’d take a very different turn.” his accent always gets thicker when he’s sleepy.

you giggle and kiss his nose, loving how it scrunches slightly. “how scandalous,” you say, then lean closer to his ear. “maybe I can try to recreate it later.”

his grip tightens. “don’t make a man a promise, baby, ‘specially when he’s got a busy day.”

you laugh and kiss him properly this time before peeling yourself off of him. “I know, I know… so why don’t you get ready and have some breakfast with me before we head to your brother’s?”

he groans and reaches out for you, but you’re just quick enough to scurry off the edge and over to the door. “come on, baby, I made your favourite.”

ten minutes later, he’s walking into the kitchen with freshly brushed teeth and an appreciative look on his face as he takes in the decorations. “babe…” he starts, pouting at you. “you didn’t have to do all this for me…”

you scoff and welcome him into your arms as you lean against the counter. “I’ve done much more for much less when it comes to you, baby, a few decorations for your birthday is light work.”

he hides his smile in your neck and presses kisses in a line up to your cheek. “I love ya so much.”

you return the sentiment and turn around to plate his food. “eat up, handsome, you’re going to need your energy today.”

a long day of birthday celebrations followed, starting with a nice lunch and visit with osamu, his partner and mamma miya that lasted well into the afternoon.

after that was a nice private party at the twins’ favourite restaurant (planned by you and your future in-law) with all their friends, old and new, thankfully not lasting too late into the night (suna joked that it was planned this way so they’d actually be able to remember their party tomorrow morning).

now, on your way home with only a slightly tipsy atsumu in your passenger seat, there’s only one stop left to make before heading home.

atsumu perks up as he feels the car slow to a stop and looks out the window curiously, cutting off his little rant about how happy he was to see everyone. “hm? why’re we here, baby?” he recognizes your friend’s house, but doesn’t recall having plans to visit with her and her husband tonight.

you put the car in park and turn to face him, clearing your throat. “baby,” you grab his hand. “I have a few gifts for you to open at home, but this is my main present to you this year.”

the gears in his head are turning, but he doesn’t have much to go off of. you’re being a bit cryptic. “okay… what does that have to do with coming here?”

you just smile and unbuckle your seatbelt, prompting him to stay put. soon enough you’re knocking on the door and he watches you disappear into the house momentarily.

you pop your head back out a few minutes later, sporting a bright, excited smile, waving him inside.

he’s greeted by your friend wishing him a happy birthday, a mischievous look on her face, and he looks between the two of you suspiciously. “what’s going on?”

you both just laugh and lead him to the living room, where a medium sized cardboard box sits on the ground, a red bow strapped to the side of it.

your friend quickly makes her way out of the room, giggling to herself about something, and then it’s just him and you and whatever is in that box.

“go look inside, atsumu,” you nod.

he moves towards it slowly, unsure, the entire situation filling him with both curiosity and nerves.

and then the box moves. and a small whine comes from inside.

he whips his head around to look at you. “no fucking way.”

you giggle and nudge him closer. he’s now looming over the box and staring down at what he assumes is his very own puppy.

“ya didn’t,” he starts, leaning down to pick the poor thing up. “angel, please don’t tell me this is a prank, I’m already attached.”

he can’t believe this is happening. the two of you have been talking about getting a dog for a year now, having long conversations about how it just felt right for you both. his head is spinning, but he knows it’s no longer because of the alcohol.

you grin, clearly proud of yourself for pulling off this surprise, and move closer to him and the dog. the furry bundle stops shaking as soon as you rest your palm on its head to pet it.

despite everything, atsumu picks up on that. “it recognizes you?”

you nod and gesture in the direction your friend went in a few minutes ago. “her dog had a litter of puppies a couple months ago and she offered us one if we wanted. I just never told you because I wanted it to be part of your gift. I’ve been coming over every week to try to get her used to our scents.”

atsumu gets a little teary eyed as he stares at the puppy and turns his head to kiss your cheek. “thank you so much, this is the best birthday ever.”

you watch as he interacts with her, heart warming at his childlike expression. it makes your early morning start time more than worth it.

eventually your friend comes back with a bag of all the doggy supplies you’ve been hiding at her place, and then you’re on your way home, dog in lap, and smiles on your faces.

he spends the rest of the car ride rambling on about what to name her, where her bed is going to go and what tricks he’s eventually going to teach her.

his excitement is contagious, apparently because as soon as you step into the apartment, you finally let it sink in that you have a dog with atsumu.

you stare at him as he “shows her around” and your entire body fills with love.

one more year down and hopefully forever to go.

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

oh to be doggy co-parents with atsumu 🥹🫶🏻

[the-offside-rule]

Jenson Button (McLaren Era) - Formal

Requested: yes

Prompt: reader using Jensons name instead of his pet name

Warnings: none tbh

Jenson's fingers tapped against the steering wheel as he navigated the familiar roads home from the McLaren Technology Centre. The hum of the engine was drowned out by the cheerful voice of his girlfriend, Y/n, on the other end of the line. "Heya, love." She said, her tone a touch too sweet for the usual end-of-day call. "Could you do me a favor?" Jenson smiled, glancing at the clock. "Of course, darling. What's up?" He asked, beginning to drive down the long road down the MTC. "Well, I was thinking... can you swing by McDonald's and grab me some chips, maybe a burger and a chocolate shake? I'm craving it." She requested, her voice holding a peculiar edge.

"Yeah okay, darling. Burger, chips and a chocolate shake, got it." He replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. Y/n rarely asked for such specific fast food orders. "Oh, and Jenson-" She continued, emphasizing his full name instead of the usual pet names she used. "Make sure it's fresh, okay?" A small frown creased Jenson's forehead. "Not if you keep calling me that." Jenson replied. "What do you mean? I called you Jenson." Y/n said, kind of confused. "Why the sudden formality? You never call me Jenson unless something's up." Y/n giggled amusingly. "Nothing's up, love, I promise. I just thought it would be nice for a change."

"Well don't, please and thank you. I quite like you calling me my pet name." Jenson's skepticism lingered as he pulled into the McDonald's drive-thru. "Jenson, your parents gave you that name." He rolled the window down. "Yes, my parents. You, darling, are my girlfriend. I like when you call me love and if you don't I'm afraid I'll have to block you." He ordered the requested items, making a mental note to ensure they were as hot as possible by the time he got home. As he drove away with the bag of fast food, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Y/n's request.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, Jenson's heart raced as he hurriedly navigated through the evening traffic, eager to reach home and see what he'd done done annoy his girlfriend this time. The anticipation of seeing her after a long day fueled his desire to press on the accelerator just a bit more. Blue and red lights flashed behind him, causing Jenson to let out an exasperated sigh. Pulling over and groaning, he rolled down his window to meet the stern gaze of a police officer. "Do you have any idea how fast you were going?" The officer asked upon reaching the car. Jenson offered a sheepish smile. "I might have been going a tad over the limit, officer. Apologies, I'm just trying to get home."

The officer raised an eyebrow. "Home, huh? And where might that be?" He asked. "Right down the road." Jenson replied, gesturing vaguely ahead. "I've been away for a while, you see. Just eager to get back." The officer eyed Jenson skeptically. "You expect me to believe that? You're in quite a hurry. Who do you think you are? Lewis Hamilton?" Jenson couldn't help but chuckle at the comparison. "No, but I've beaten him a good few times." He replied, smirking.

The officer's expression remained stoic. "I don't appreciate jokes, sir. License and registration, please." Suppressing a sigh, Jenson reached for his documents and handed them over. The officer scrutinized them before returning to his patrol car to run a check. As Jenson waited, he couldn't help but replay the encounter in his mind. He understood the officer's duty, but the delay was becoming increasingly frustrating.

Finally, the officer returned, ticket in hand. "I'm issuing you a speeding ticket, Mr. Button. Please drive more responsibly in the future." Jenson gave a fake smile and took the ticket. "I appreciate the reminder, officer. I'll keep that in mind." As the officer walked off, Jenson mumbled to himself, the words "complete arsehole" being repeated multiple times.

Once home, he found Y/n sitting on the couch, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "You're back! Thanks, Jenson." He handed her the bag, studying her carefully. "Alright. What's going on? Why the sudden craving and the formal use of my name?" Y/n smirked, unable to keep the secret any longer. "Okay, okay. I just wanted to see how you'd react. I like getting reactions out of you." She smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss.

Jenson raised an eyebrow. "Really? You made me drive to McDonald's and speed home because I thought you were pissed off with me. I got a speeding ticket!" Jenson said, lifting the ticket. "And you have a Happy girlfriend who now has McDonald's." Jenson chuckled, shaking his head. "You're something else, Y/n. Next time, just ask for McDonald's without the elaborate plan."

"It's not as effective though, is it?" She teased.

[bigtreefest]

Details

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Summary: Ransom can’t help the way he pays such close attention to every detail regarding you

Word count: 1,081

Content/warnings: very sappy Ransom, no dialogue, ransom’s internal monologue?, references to intimacy, kisses, lots of timeline switching? (Flashbacks and returns to present)

A/N: Below is the song which inspired this fic. It’s been a longtime favorite and I think it definitely fits the summer vibes

I guess we can call this a part of my summer celebration! It’s a vacation at a beach house, and probs an equal partnership? Based off a song. Yeah, I make the rules.

Anyway, comments, likes, reblogs, and asks are so appreciated. Thank you for reading!!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Main Masterlist

Ransom didn’t really have a name for this feeling, despite his vast vocabulary. The main reason was that he had never really felt it before, so how could he be sure? It was definitely beyond the simplicity of the lust he had felt on several occasions. Was it admiration, adoration? Whatever it was, he was sure it went both ways from the crooked smile you gave him as you stretched in the dim morning light.

After a week of your getaway, it was the last morning the two of you were waking up in his family’s coastal home. He loved the way the rays coming through the curtains graced your face, especially today, as you laid tangled in the sheets of the king-sized bed.

The past week had been filled with relaxation and enjoyment each day. Beach picnics, sunbathing, swimming, and…other…enjoyable…things. Those were his favorite. He was desperate to get to that, but not desperate in the moment, where he was worshipping you and your body, and every little thing that he could commit to memory. He never wanted to forget this time; it was simple, with no deadlines, no responsibilities besides each other, although he’d never call you a chore. You were a pleasure. One he was sure he didn’t deserve.

Ransom watched closely as you sat up, the sunshine creating a crown around your head and hair. He couldn’t help but notice you. All he saw was you.

His entire life, Ransom had always noticed the details. That was his strength: little things no one else picked up on, and they were all around him, but honestly, when he was looking at you, he couldn’t tell you anything going on in the background: what he had planned for today, or what he’d done before you woke up the day before.

When you’d gone out to eat at that one restaurant, the one that he thought probably had an ocean view, he couldn’t remember, he wouldn’t be able to recall a single song that had played during dinner.

What he does remember, though, is everything about you that night. The way the sea salt in the air from the long day had added a little extra wave to your hair- tightened the coil, how your skin glowed from the golden hour sunset shining through the glass by the table, the way you got a little tongue-tied after you shared your third glass of wine, which the waiter so rudely interrupted your story to ask if you wanted. No one deserved to stop your beautiful voice from talking, not even Ransom, and especially not the weirdly kind young man pouring the bottle. What was the waiter so nice for, anyway? That quickly left Ransom’s mind, though, attention switching to something much more important. He was completely focused, just not on the usual, external things. There were different details his brain favored these days.

Ransom had visited the coastal home since he was young, playing with the neighbor’s kids while his parents were off doing who knows what. Now, he couldn’t care enough to retain the name of the guy who lives next door. That sort of information was trivial when there was someone else who he would’ve rather had take up every corner of his mind.

That night after dinner, he couldn’t keep his eyes off you in the car, stealing every glance he could without veering off the road. Hundred dollar bills could be falling from the sky and he wouldn’t even notice, which carries its weight when all that Ransom’s ever valued, all that’s ever been steady in his life, is money. That was until you and whatever feeling you were giving him for the first time. It was as if he finally hit the threshold of realization to what’s been creeping up on him this whole time.

Upon your return to the beach house, the two of you laid in bed, cuddled up close as the light from the TV playing late night talk shows danced across the bedroom. You were tucked up into his side, your head on his shoulder as one hand crossed his body and rested on his hip, his one arm doing the same to you as the other tangled in your hair, gently massaging your scalp. He watched as your eyelids fluttered shut, heavy with tiredness of the day and comfort in his hold. Another moment to be savored: your absolute trust in the security of his arms. He smiled to himself as you mumbled in your sleep, studying every little quirk of your lips, every barely intelligible word he could catch, not judging, but committing to memory.

In another life, Ransom would’ve tried to deny that you were any more than just another girl, but there was no use. He was too far gone. Finding ways to surprise you, shower you in gifts, and all the quality time you asked for. Whatever you could desire, really, it was yours, and he had no business withholding from you. His heart wouldn’t allow him.

Ransom was in tune with everything you were doing right now. He pushed aside the thoughts of the week’s earlier memories with you for a second, and cleared everything else nonessential from his mind. He only needed space for what was going on currently. He observed as you scooted closer to him, pushing aside the pillows that were often just so as you slept. Absorbed the way your head tilted to the side at that certain angle when you were leaning in, just about to kiss him. He surely didn’t want to miss it as he closed his eyes and let you fall into him, tongues dancing in an amatory rhythm. So in sync, so naturally that he didn’t care about anything else. Every detail was something he wanted to devote his attention to; memorize and hold onto forever.

Yeah, he should probably get up and make you your coffee. How he loved to see you stir it, just the simplest task, but this felt more pressing. The warmth in his chest from your touch, the way your kisses filled his lungs with light, with life. How your fingertips traced up and down his chest, tucking into the waistband of his boxer briefs. He shuddered at the sensation, at what even your gentlest touch could do to him. Breakfast could wait. You offered enough to feed his soul forever. This feeling? The new wholeness? It was love.

Bonus A/N: Soft!Ran. I only know him. Could you imagine a nice little rainy day in bed, looking out the window at the coast?🥺

Taglist: @hawkeyes-queen @ronearoundblindly

[yoonmetogether]

Not In the Cards Prelude pt. 1

pairing: gambler!Yoongi x !fem reader genre: strangers-to-lovers, age gap, intro to mafia/bodyguard au summary: how it all started. you won all of his money at poker, he hates you for it, but you find yourself hiding in a closet with him. (This is rlly e2l2e2l lol) warnings: alcohol, mild derogatory language, yoongi's an asshole, reader antagonizes him, motorcycle riding, gambling, smoking, drinking, smut, quickie in a janitor’s closet 🥴, insane bickering, usage of sl*t, yoongi and those red chopsticks from haegeum, a smidge of violence (not towards each other), implied parental absence, scars, reader mentions a minor injury from a car crash wc: 10.2k minors dni. 18+ only thanks to my beta reader @yoonglesyeobo and also to @syllviere for their help and support! <333

prologue l ch. 1 play nice l prelude. strangers 1/2 l prelude. strangers 2/2 l ch. 2 l

You picked a great time to fly back home - smack dab in the middle of monsoon season. Of all the light things you packed in your backpack and duffle bag, you forgot an umbrella.

And the first thing you did once you set foot on the mainland soil of your Jeju pit stop, was ask your driver to take you to the Sehwa beach on the east coast. But the cash you had got you only about three-quarters of the way there, so you were dropped off into the one part of town you’re familiar with. Memories of happier times dance around the streets as you walk down them, on your way to the place you know best. Even though it will remind you of how things once were and never will be again, you go because it’s the only place you know where you can earn money without really having to work for it.

You’re soaked to the bone when you walk into the bar. The lights are low and dimmed with a green hue and floating smoke. It’s loud with banter as men get drunk on this gloomy Friday night.

You find an ATM near the bathrooms and withdraw 700,000 won.

“Hi, sweetie. Are you lost?” one of the pretty waitresses asks as she approaches you in a short apron and even shorter skirt, lips painted a vibrant ruby. Her silky bob is curled just above a black choker around her neck, and she glances down as you slide your wad of cash into your wallet, sliding it in your jacket pocket.

“Uh, no. Can I get a drink and a seat please?”

She looks at you with apprehension laced in her polite expression. “There’s a much quieter bar a few blocks down the street. You might have a better time there.”

“I appreciate that, but I’m actually looking to win some money.”

“I see,” she says after a pause, giving you a onceover. “Are you old enough?”

Yeah, an illegal gambling ring probably wouldn’t want to get tacked on with another charge of hosting minors if the cops were ever smart enough to come snooping around a place like this. You pull out your ID and hand it to her, watching as she holds it up and you know just what she’s looking for because you’ve used a fake to get in here before.

The corner of her mouth lifts in a small smile as she passes it back to you. She turns around and beckons you forward with two fingers in the air, leading you through the bar and as you trail behind her, nostalgia walks with you.

At the bar was where you took your first shot, had your first cigarette, in spite of your brother’s protests, and the den downstairs that you’re heading to was where you won your first real hand at poker. It’s still the same old musty, dusty, probably moldy basement that you remember, but now the ghosts of your past linger in the air so it’s hard to go through without getting a little misty-eyed.

As you step off the stairs, the waitress is surveying the room. It’s much more crowded and loud than upstairs since there are high stakes all around. You strain your neck, looking for an empty chair but they’re all occupied by men with too much time and not enough money to lose.

“Well, all of the tables are full right now, but I can set you up with a drink at the bar while you wait for an opening.”

“What about the table in the back?” Her eyes narrow.

“That’s for more experienced players.” Leaning against the railing, you hum, check your manicure.

“I’ll cut you twenty percent of my win if you get me in there.”

Her eyebrows lift in surprise. “You’re that confident?”

“This is where I learned how to play pro. I win more than I lose.”

She looks you up and down again, like she can’t figure you out.

“Make it twenty-five.”

“Deal,” you grin and she mirrors you, flashing her teeth.

“Follow me.”

You pull your damp hoodie further over your head in an attempt to shield your face as you follow her through the maze of tables towards a door in the far corner of the low-ceiling room. It’s slightly obscured by the counter and sheer, moth-eaten curtains that match the shitty wall color, and you thank the waitress when she pulls them to the side to direct you through. She then leads you into a small hallway but pauses right before the second door frame.

“I have to tell you, these men aren’t exactly their mothers’ favorite.”

You shrug. “Nothing I haven’t dealt with before.”

“Alright, well if you change your mind…”

“Thanks, but I won’t. I owe you that big tip.”

She smiles. “Don’t let me down, girlie.”

“Is there room for one more, gentlemen?” Her voice carries over the cocksure babble of the middle-aged men surrounding the round, green-felt table, littered with scattered poker chips, worn ashtrays and crystal glasses of whiskey. You’re met with a thick cloud of smoke as you approach an empty seat at the table. They all fall quiet as you pull down your hood, revealing your wet hair and the fact that you are not one of them.

A collective muttering of derision rises as you pull out the chair but you act completely unbothered, unzipping your drenched coat and shrugging it off. You fish your wallet out of your jacket and pass all of your cash to the attendant who exchanges it for chips.

“What do you know about poker?” one of the men prods.

"Plenty. Deal me in. What’s the ante?”

“I think you’re wasting your time,” another cuts in. “You should go see if they have a kiddie table.”

The men shove elbows into each other in raucous laughter at your expense but it doesn’t affect you at all.

“Let her play.”

You look up at the new voice. Gravelly. Gruff. Tempting.

Shit. How did you miss… him? The youngest man in the room, the one with parts of his face shadowed by the god-awful, dim lighting, has not taken his eyes off of you since you walked in. You can tell by the way the bumps on your skin prickle every time your attention flickers in his direction and your eyes catch. His hair is orangey, as much of it that pokes out from under his black beanie, and he’s wearing a black varsity jacket with white stitching on the front that makes him stand out among the rest of the men’s unflattering suits and loose ties.

He lifts his cigarette, takes a drag, and blows it out, blinking between you and two black poker chips he taps on the table.

You glare at the subtle smirk on his lips as he says, “Easy win.”

This will be fun.

The first few rounds you do get shit hands, but you bet on them anyway, enduring the condescension that leers from the entire table each time. The only one who doesn’t laugh is the one you can’t stop stealing glances at, the one who just nonchalantly smokes and places bets and looks at his cards, and occasionally stares right back. Makes your heart flip. You’ve noticed, though, from watching him a few times, that when the flop is laid out and it’s time for the first bets, if he blinks a little erratically while staring at his hand, he folds soon after. You fold on a two-pair after checking, and the players get a kick out of that when you reveal that you had a potentially winning hand. You pretend to be super bummed. But now you’ve got them right where you want them.

So far, you’ve bet the majority of your money but you’re fairly certain that won’t matter in a few minutes. In your hand, you hold an 8 and 2 of Diamonds. On the table, lies a ten of Spades, six of Clubs, 4 and Queen of Diamonds, and three of hearts. You school your expression. One more diamond card and it’s a flush. You look up and it seems the majority of the table has folded, but ‘kiddie table’ man and ‘beanie with a mean stare’ man are still in the running. Both of their hands have been good so far, but ‘beanie with a mean stare’ has won most of the rounds. This is the last one and you’re running out of time to win all of it back. You feign a nervous glance around the table before you check. ‘Kiddie’ checks as well and you wait for ‘mean beanie’ to follow suit but instead, he scoots the rest of his chips in to raise the bet. Huh. He’s getting cocky, going all in. He only blinked once when the dealer laid down the flop, so you suspect he has a good hand. But not a great one, so you’ll raise the stakes. The men mutter in amusement when you match his bet and he lifts a brow, but the rest of his expression remains neutral. The dealer asks if that’s the final bet, and when no one responds, he flips the fifth card. Your heart jumps. 

A nine of Diamonds.

‘Kiddie’ goes first and displays his three-of-a-kind. Hm. Not bad. You glance over to ‘mean beanie,’ waiting for him to make the next move but he only stares at you, unblinking, a thin line between his lips. You take a deep breath and put on a sheepish smile while flattening your cards near the center of the table so everyone can see.

“Is this a flush?” They all still, and you fail to fight off a grin when their many pairs of eyes go back and forth between the river and your two low rank cards that add up to a high rank hand.

‘Mean beanie’ is now staring at his cards, a noticeable tick in his jaw and you know you’ve won. He tosses them down with a quick flick of his wrist and you can’t help your smirk at his obvious dejection. You observe his 5 of Hearts and 7 of Spades.

“Oh, a straight? How nice.” Your head tilts mockingly. “You almost beat me.”

He frowns and you feel enthralled, resisting the urge to blow him a demeaning kiss. With a content sigh, you lean forward to scrape your scored chips towards you, holding your arms out like a hoop to move them all because there’s just that many. You stand as an attendant appears to retrieve your chips to count and trade for the table’s cash. You think you’ll get a nice hotel room to shelter from the storm.

“It was a pleasure playing with you gentlemen,” you say politely as you stand. “I’ll enjoy spending your money.”

The devilish grin you send to all of them lingers on ‘mean beanie’ who is now refusing to look at you. There’s a pep in your step as you stride up to the attendant behind the counter near the door, waiting for him to cash you out.

You watch as the men file out, glaring at you and muttering bitter curses amongst themselves. You shrug it off. Serves them right for underestimating you just because you’re a young woman. You may have been putting on an act, but men run the world.

Shouldn’t they have been smart enough to pick up on that?

‘Beanie’ is the last one to go, head ducked as he pulls out his phone. He’s still in the hallway when you exit, backpack stacked with 10 million won. His foot is on the bottom step as he types furiously on his device.

“Hey, good game,” you say in a light tone as you pass him, but there’s too much sass in your smile to seem genuine. “And you’re right. That was an easy win.”

He lifts his head slowly, eyes narrowed in a vicious glare, pockets his phone and takes a step up. It makes your heart speed when he comes nearly face to face with you, and you can see him in this mildly better lighting.

“How’d you pull that off, huh? You count cards?” He’s pretty much seething but fucking hell, he's attractive.

“No,” you blink innocently, living for the ferocity in his darkened eyes. “I just count on men to be dumb enough to believe a pretty girl like me doesn’t know how to gamble. Thanks for being so full of yourself that you can’t see through a sham like that.”

His jaw ticks as his glare rakes up and down your form.

“You’re full of yourself, too. You’re not that pretty.”

It’s a cheap shot, but it’s obvious he’s just trying to make himself feel better by hurting your feelings because he has nothing else.

“Aww, you sound like a sore loser. Do you want to go back in there? Try to win some back?”

“I’m done playing for the night.” He still hasn’t gotten out of your face and the scent of his earthy cologne with traces of cigarette smoke is doing unhealthy things to your blood pressure.

“Understandable. It would suck to get your ass beat by a girl twice in a row.”

He's radiating with vexation but it doesn’t intimidate you in the slightest. If anything, it’s making him more attractive, which makes you think you should do some deep, serious internal reflection. His nostrils flare just before he swivels on his heel to face the steps.

“Oh, by the way, I noticed that you blink a lot when you get a bad hand. You should work on that.”

His head jerks to you, seeming to take offense to that. He looks you up and down again, scowls, and starts up the stairs.

“Maybe with your money, I’ll buy some expensive makeup to doll myself up better!” You call up.

“You’d need a lot!” 

Fucking liar. You cackle as he jogs up the rest of the way.

******* Upstairs, he’s already out of sight. You relocate the waitress who greets you expectantly, an enthusiastic grin breaking out on her face when you pull out your winnings. She gives you a small cheer and while you sit at the bar to count out her cut, she makes you a drink on the house.

Once you finish it, you check the time and realize you shouldn’t hang around here for much longer. And you’re starting to feel the effects of jet lag now that you’ve got your money problems squared away. But of course you left your jacket downstairs. You ask the waitress if you can go get it.

“Sure, but come right back.”

In the hallway, you falter when you hear a one-sided conversation, spoken by that low stony voice that tickles your brain. You peek your nosy head around the corner, pulse spiking with a thrill when you see ‘beanie’ standing on the other side of the room, next to another hallway.

“The fuck do you mean it didn’t go through? 

As he listens on the other line, he hangs his head, fingers digging into his eyes in what appears to be frustration before dropping them on his hip.

“Shit, are you serious?... Can you just send me some for a plane ticket? I’ll pay you back...” He sighs dejectedly. “Fine. See you back home.”

He curses again, louder this time, and you take that as your cue to saunter into the room, pretending you don’t notice him as you head for the table.

“You stalking me?” You blow a raspberry, leaning down to grab your jacket from the chair and hold it up for him to see.

“As if. You’re not that interesting. And you’re a sore loser,” you tack on. “Not my type.”

(Straight up lies.)

“Well, you’re fucking annoying.”

“Thank you!” You exclaim, hand on your chest like you’re honored. “I’ve worked so hard to be.”

He glowers at you and you really want to laugh. Why is he so angry? It’s not like you stole his money. Tricked him? Maybe, but you can’t exactly be fair in a place like this. His head shakes as he passes by you for the exit.

“So I really won all of your money, huh? And now you’re strapped for cash?” He pauses, slides narrowed eyes your way, and stuffs his hands in his jacket.

“Mind your business.”

“What? It just sounds like you’re in a tough spot, especially with the big storm coming later. I’d hate to think that you’re stranded in torrential downpour with nowhere to go all because some mid-looking girl took your money.”

“Don’t patronize me,” he snaps.

“How is that patronizing? I’m just saying, I’m sorry you fell for my dirty little trick, but I can help you out if you want.”

He strides into your space and you step back, heart pounding when he gets in your face again. There’s a dangerous look in his eyes but you’re not at all threatened.

“I don’t need shit from you.” You tip your head up and bat your eyelashes, sneaking a glance at his lips, pink and plush and enticing. 

“Okay,” you shrug nonchalantly, failing to fight off a small smirk. Warmth creeps up from your cheeks to your ears when his blown out pupils flash down to your mouth. And the tension in between you transforms with a feral magnetism.

His tongue darts out to his bottom lip and your eyes widen a fraction at the sight.

“You’re really aggravating, you know that?”

“You can walk away.” His head tilts at your challenge and the magnetism grows when he doesn’t move.

Just then, your heads turn towards the stairs when voices and footsteps start to descend.

He grabs your arm and tugs you around the corner and to the end of the hallway, whipping open a small door and stepping inside before pulling you along with him. Your nose wrinkles at the odious smell of industrial cleaning agents.

“What are you doing?”

“Shut up,” he hisses, tugging you away from the door to the adjacent side of the small and dark closet. “No one’s supposed to be down here now that they’ve closed things up.”

“Oh,” you whisper, settling against the wall. “You don’t really strike me as the type to follow the rules.”

“I’m not,” he grits, voice deep enough to not be heard easily. “But I know that consequences still apply if I get caught.”

“Well, this isn’t how I expected to spend my Friday night,” you huff with a cross of your arms. “Holed up in some janitor’s closet with a common criminal.”

“You’re one too, y’know. You committed a felony just by stepping foot in here. And then another, when you won all that money.”

You mimic that last sentence in a childish tone and his chest heaves in a huff.

“Will you be quiet?”

“Am I pissing you off?”

“You have been since the first goddamn minute you walked in.”

“If I annoy you that much, you could’ve just hidden in here yourself and left me out there to get in trouble.”

“I still have time. I could push you out now.”

“Do it then.”

A silence follows, like he’s contemplating. Hesitating. That magnetism comes back to buzz and burn.

“Or maybe, and I’m just spitballing here, you wanted an excuse to get me alone in this dark, tight space?”

He scoffs. “You’re delusional.”

“Hm. Then why are you so close? There’s more than enough room for the both of us to have space.”

When he doesn’t say anything, unease pinches your gut as you think you’ve gotten ahead of yourself and misread things. You can’t help that his whole broody, pissed off vibe turns you on for some reason. So you move to get away from him, create some space now that you’re embarrassed but his hand finds the crook of your elbow and stops you. Heat floods your cheeks for a whole different reason.

“What are you trying to get at?” You smile, heart pounding with nerves because you know his rejection would sting like hell. But you’re not about to let his attitude shit on your confidence.

“C’mon, you’re not that dumb.” His fingers dig into your arm, not enough to hurt but enough to feel that you’ve pinched a nerve.

You gasp when he pushes your arm until your back hits the wall and you stare at the silhouette of his face, his hand lifting above your head. Blood rushes in your ears when he leans in so close that his warm breath fans down to your chin.

“You wanna be fucked in here like a slut? Is that it?”

Holy mother of fuck. The way he said that - husky, dark, low but so intense has to be a sin.

“Can you even get it up this late at night, old man?”

“Who the fuck are you calling old?” He snaps. “You’ve got to be at least 30.”

He better be joking! “What does that make you, then? 45? 50?” 

“Try 27.”

“Huh. You’re still a lot older than me.” You don’t find that hot.

“By how much?” he queries, a bit of apprehension in his tone.

“5 years.”

He exhales sharply, a breath of relief. “Could’ve fooled me.”

“Keep telling yourself that. Is almost 30 too early to have ‘dysfunctional’ problems?”

Large hands on your hips force you to turn around and face the wall, and you plant your palms on it with a gasp when he grinds his clothed erection on the swell of your ass.

“Does this feel ‘dysfunctional’ to you?” he growls, grinding against you again, slower this time but harsher so you can feel all of what’s swelling in his pants. He’s big, because of course he is, and you figure by the end of this, you’ll be the dysfunctional one.

“I-I don’t know,” you stutter, throat suddenly dry. He chuckles, and it’s like a jolt of thunder worthy of a hurricane storming through every seed of your nerves.

Sighing, he leans into you, chest barely brushing your back, and returns his hand to the wall above your head, ducking his chin to breathe down your neck and you gasp again as he rolls his hips once more while muttering darkly into your ear,

“Do you want to find out?” A shiver bolts down your spine, and your center starts to throb with sinful desire.

Getting fucked on a Friday night in a cleaning closet by a common criminal is definitely not something you expected to be doing on your trip back home. But you don’t want it to go in any other way.

“Mhmm.”

“Is that supposed to be a word?”

“Yes!” You whisper yell.

“Yes, what?” he emphasizes, tone gritty and dominating.

“Yes, I want to find out.”

Quiet passes for a minute and you think he’s in the middle of rethinking things, but then he manhandles you to the side of the closet opposite from the door, and you put out your hands to feel that you’re pressed into a set of shelves holding big ass rolls of paper towels or something.

He tugs at the hem of your pants. “Take these off.”

“Why can’t you do it?”

“Because I’m giving you a chance to change your mind,” he mutters.

Huh. You hesitate only because that was unexpected. But you weren’t planning on changing anything. Without a word, you undo the clasp on your jeans and reach back to find his hand, taking note of the insane electricity that surges through you once you touch him, and bring it back to your waist, silent permission that he can continue. Nothing is said as he slides your pants down your ass, and you wait for him to work on his own jeans but instead you feel his fingers trickle on the inside of your upper thigh, breath hitching as he inches closer to your heat. You spread your legs and arch your back to give him indication to touch you. He cups your mound, and you lurch forward with a moan, grabbing the shelf to hold onto for dear life.

“You better stay quiet,” he grumbles. “Because if you get us caught, I’ll tell them I found out you were counting cards.”

“And you were fucking me as punishment?” you challenge over your shoulder, but the vitriol in your sneer is extinguished when he glides a lone finger between your folds.

“Fuck,” he hisses. “You’re already wet. Being a dirty slut like this turns you on?”

You don’t answer, brain malfunctioning when he starts rubbing circles over your clit, and you duck your head as it increases your arousal. A whiny moan floats out when he teases your hole and hums to himself. Your shoulders tense when he slips a digit in, shushing your louder moan as he adds another and pumps in and out to work you open. You have to hold your breath every now and then to keep your noises to yourself.

As he keeps finger-fucking you, there’s some shifting and then a slap of something falling on the floor, followed by the sound of foil tearing.

“Did you just get a condom out of your wallet?” you manage to croak.

“No, I pulled it out of thin air,” he deadpans dryly.

You roll your eyes. Men. Always staying locked and fucking loaded. And he called you a slut? You open your mouth to convey this to him, but you figure one more smart-ass comment will deny you of what you’re craving.

You salivate when you hear him undo his belt and unzip his jeans. He steps back with a faint moan, and you imagine him finally pulling himself out to roll on the condom. Shit. You know you’re in for it.

His hand finds your waist again, and he spits, loudly, before tapping his tip on your center, gathering your arousal. Your body jerks at the sensation of his head dragging through your folds and over your clit before coming back to prod your entrance, making you tense up in anticipation.

“Are you going to back out? Last chance.”

“No, I’m good.” There’s a lapse in movement and in words but then he pushes in and- fuck! It’s a stretch. You moan over a bitten tongue as your eyes squeeze shut, urgently trying to adjust.

“We don’t have to do this if you’re not up for it,” he mutters quietly when your cunt refuses to cooperate, thanks to a mix of nerves.

"I am, damn it!”

“Then fucking relax.”

So you deflate your lungs, using the idea of just how good it’ll feel once he fills you up for motivation to do as he says. You let your body go almost entirely limp and he must notice because he digs his fingers into your waist and guides himself in, agonizingly slow, expanding your walls with girth so fulfilling.

A low growl resonates in his chest when he sinks in all the way, fingers flexing on your naked hips as he gives time for you to adjust. His hard dick twitching within tells you that he needs a second too. Then for a few minutes, he fucks you at a snail’s pace while you try not to lose your shit. He pulls out to bend his knees, and thrusts back up into you, breathing shakily as he increases the pace.

He doesn’t take his hands off of your waist. Doesn’t grope your tits, or cup handfuls of your ass, just holds onto your hips to keep you in place, occasionally uses them to adjust his stance behind you. A part of you wishes he would because you know his large hands could work wonders on your skin, but at the same time there’s a modicum of respect coming from his restraint. You don’t know if that’s what he’s going for or if he just genuinely doesn’t want to touch you - which, ouch - but you’re pretty sure most guys would take you letting them fuck you in a closet as automatic permission to touch all parts of your body whether you asked them to or not, but apparently he’s not one of them.

There is one place, though, that you desperately need him to put his hands on and for whatever reason, he’s not.

“Are you gonna play with my clit anytime soon? Or did you, in your old age, forget where it is?” He huffs, dark and indignant in your ear.

“It’d be nice to get off at some point ton-” A hand slides over your cheek and a pair of fingers gets shoved on your tongue, cutting you off.

“Shut. Your. Mouth.” Your eyes roll back at the rigid and domineering grit in his tone, and your back arches to press further into him, needy, wanting. His other hand rises to replace his fingers with a balled-up piece of fabric, and then he snakes down to in between your legs. You have to bite down on whatever fabric he used to muffle you when he easily finds your aching nub and spreads your saliva over it before stroking in agonizing circles. Your teeth clamp down harder on the mysterious material to barricade a whimper.

His hips, on the other hand, start to smack against your ass with animalistic determination, like he wants to fuck you as fast as he can so he can get this over with. Which is fine by you, because it feels so fucking good. The force of his thrusts paired with the tips of his fingers rubbing your clit in rough, calculated strokes has your nails scraping on the wall due to the overwhelming pleasure building within you.

He starts to fuck you at a different angle and you almost cry out when he spears against your spot.

“There?” he asks, rocking in the same place experimentally while you clench around him. Your thighs start to shake.

“Mhmm!” you exclaim. He doesn’t stop fucking you there until you come, and even though you already can’t see shit, you definitely black out for a second. The material in your mouth isn’t helping your breathing situation but it’s preventing you from crying.

He hisses and then yanks out, lets go of your waist, and you involuntarily drop to your knees.

“Shit, my fault,” he mutters, but you’re focused on plucking the cloth out of your mouth, scrunching it in your palm. You weakly pull your jeans to your hips and turn around when he curses again, reaching out to find his dick as he jerks himself to completion. He stops and rips off the condom, thumb sliding up your chin and into your mouth to force it open.

“Gonna come,” he grumbles. You nod and stick out your tongue, and using his thumb as guidance, he slides his thick mushroom head past your lips, filling your mouth with hot ropes of cum. He emits some kind of purring sound as you swallow it all down and your eyes roll to the back of your head.

After allowing a moment to accept what just happened, he steps back again and sighs heavily as he tucks himself in, fixing his belt while you wipe your mouth with the inside of your shirt. When he bends down to pick up his wallet, you wait for his hand to offer you help up off the floor, but he just turns around, leaving you to stand up on your own with shaky legs.

That’s not the vibe you were starting to get from him, but okay?

Swinging on your jacket with a bit of shame, you walk up behind him where he’s listening at the door for anyone outside, and realize that you just let this guy fuck you in a weird-smelling closet and come in your mouth before you even got his name.

“I’m Angel, by the way.”

“That’s nice," he says flatly, tone withdrawn.

“Did you flunk preschool? This would be the part where you tell me your name.”

“I'm good.” You scoff, taken aback. 

"Geez, dude. After all that, you can’t even tell me your name?”

"Nah. Not like we’re ever gonna see each other again, right?” That stings. He doesn’t have the courtesy to do something normal after doing something so unorthodox?

“Whatever, prick.”

When he opens the door, you toss the fabric at him and shove into his shoulder, not looking back as you hurry towards the stairs, taking two at a time to get away from him.

The waitress gives you a wary look as you stomp towards her, and you offer an embarrassed apology while you gather your bags. You thank her, pass her a few more bills, and make an escape to the bathroom. You refuse to look in the mirror as you get yourself together. What the fuck were you thinking?

But as the universe would have it, he’s outside under the awning because of the rain, scrolling through his phone and smoking a cigarette with a foot propped on the wall.

Without slowing down, you walk by him, pluck the cigarette from his fingers and continue down the block. At the corner, you stop abruptly, and lift the stick to your lips, take a drag, then toss it into the street, staring right at him. He frowns and with the hand not stuffed in his jean pocket, raises his middle finger and you shoot him one right back, blowing out smoke and holding back a cough. You flag down a cab with a heavy weight in your chest that crawls up to your throat and threatens to imitate the storm pouring from the clouds above.

The rain follows you into the crowded restaurant and you do your best to shake it off of your clothes and shoes before you go in. An older male server rushes by carrying a tray of soju and shot glasses, beckons you further inside and gestures over to the far end of the room where a small empty table sits in front of the window. As you weave your way towards it, you pass by groups of friends, some couples, others colleagues, all having a good time staying out of the storm together. It makes you a little bitter and a lot lonely.

You sit down with your back facing away from the reminder that you’re the only one occupying a two-person table and order a bottle of soju and a hot bowl of noodles that will take away some of the wet chill clinging to your skin.

A motorcycle zooms by. The engine sounds like a single-cylinder with a good torque. A Ducati maybe?

As you wait, you lean back in your chair, arms crossed, and stare outside, reminiscing about old times. Old friends. All a part of memories now.

A few minutes after the server delivers you a bottle of soju and you take a shot, you head to the bathroom to wash up and finally acknowledge the shame lingering in your appearance. When you emerge, passing by the bar, you’re stopped in your tracks by the face of the man who is the reason for that shame. Your heart pounds abnormally. He’s sitting a few barstools away from you, beanie gone, unveiling orange hair and roots that could use a touch up, with a black and white bandanna tied under his chin, like it was being used as a mask. Was that what he stuffed in your mouth earlier?

You stare at him as he sips some clear liquor out of a whiskey glass and when he finally notices, he, for some reason, doesn’t look that surprised to see you.

“You again,” you scowl. “Who’s stalking who now?” He shrugs.

“This is a small island.”

Your eyes roll at his shit logic.

“Well, sorry to have ruined your whole ‘we’re never gonna see each other again’ bullshit.”

He doesn't reply, just frowns into his glass. Feeling hot all over, you stew as you stomp back to your table to retrieve your wallet, fishing out a large bill that you slap on the counter once you return to the bar. The bartender comes over and you make a point of looking over at the prick while you say,

"His drinks are on me." You prolong your vengeful gaze on him, fighting your tongue when his jaw only clenches in response, and head back to your table in a huff.

You try to let it go and not sear holes through his back, instead focusing on your wonderful meal and full glass of soju. He can go to hell.

It seems that the universe has other plans in store when mid-bite, you feel a presence approach and you think it’s the server coming to check on you, but when you look up and the presence stops at your table, your heart skips at the musk that pummels your lungs and puts you in a chokehold. Because it’s the same one that enveloped you from behind not too long ago, strong enough to mask the stench of cleaning supplies. And the source of it slaps a familiar lone bill in front of you under a veiny, slender hand. He stares down at you with an unreadable look in his eyes. Glancing at the bill, you make no move to take it back or acknowledge the fact that he didn't let you pay, even though you just won a bunch of his money. What is this guy playing at?

"Take it."

"No," you shoot back, resuming your meal for an excuse not to look at him. 

He sighs and you think that's the end of it.

But then he scoots into the seat across from you. Your heart flatlines when he glances at you, barely acknowledging you or your shocked expression, and cards a hand through his hair, flipping his bangs away to showcase his forehead, clear of blemishes. Isn’t that fucking typical.

“Um, can I help you?”

“The kitchen’s closing soon and I want to order something,” he says casually as he gets comfortable.

“And you’re sitting at my table because? I thought I was annoying.”

“You are,” he replies, still not looking at you but at your bowl. “But all the other tables are full.”

You scoff and take a sweep of the restaurant, desperate to catch him in a lie - surely people have left and freed up spaces since you got here. Nope. The seat across from you was the only one empty. But why does he have to be the one who fills it?

“You could just go somewhere else.”

“It’s pouring out there.”

“Afraid you’ll melt?”

He flickers a small glare your way, then moves it behind you when the bell over the entrance announces a customer’s arrival. He’s acting indifferent, like he wasn’t just a complete dick, and you don’t know what to make of it.

“So does this mean you're done being an asshole to me now?”

“You think I should be nice or something?”

“That would be a start.”

“Aren’t you not supposed to be nice to strangers? Didn’t your mother ever teach you that?”

That draws a cloudy expression over your face. “I’m sure she would’ve if she was ever around.”

He looks at you and you can see a smidge of his hostile demeanor fall away. Your attention drops to your lap, waiting for him to give the little pity party you’re used to people throwing you when they find out you have an absentee parent. But he doesn’t, just shifts in his seat and lets a little tension out of his shoulders.

“Yoongi.”

Your eyebrows furrow as you look across again, thrown for a loop. “What?”

He shrugs, juts out his bottom lip in what you think is a pout. “You wanted my name, right?”

He looks shy and, dare you say, cute saying that. 

“Was that so hard? You know that makes us not strangers anymore,” you point out with a widening smile as he glowers at you.

You reach for the soju bottle but he leans forward and snatches it away. Puzzled, you withdraw your hand, but he gestures to your glass and mimes a pour. There’s uncertainty stitched between your brows as you pick up the glass and hold it out with two hands while he pours a shot. You can’t help but notice the scar etched in a jagged line across the back of his right hand turning the bottle, and you look away from it so you don’t gawk. But you’re curious.

Even though you don’t yet fully respect him, he is still 5 years older, so you turn to the side to knock the shot back. When you’re done, you silently offer to return the favor but he shakes his head, fills your glass once again and sets the bottle down, leaning back in his chair with his arms folded across his chest, glancing between you and the table with a dart of his tongue over his bottom lip.

You stare at the liquor, tips of your fingers dancing around the rim of the glass as you debate how much of your sobriety you should hold onto for the night.

“You’re not drinking?” you ask after you down the shot, wiping your chin.

“I’m driving.” You hum in acknowledgement.

“Are you gonna eat?”

He shakes his head. “I’m good.”

“I thought that was the whole point of sitting at my table.”

“I changed my mind.” Liar. He’s been eyeing your bowl ever since he sat down.

“You’re a shit liar. No wonder I cleaned you out.”

He flips you off and you just sigh. A lost cause. You catch the scar on the back of his hand again, the skin raised but healed.

The atmosphere between you since his gesture has slowed things down, setting a new pace that’s strange but not entirely unwelcome. The liquor spreading warmth in your chest loosens your inhibitions, bringing forth your curiosity.

"What happened to your hand?”

"Bar fight,” he replies a little too quickly. You don't believe that.

"Some bar fight." He rolls his eyes at your sarcasm but then his attention flickers back with a tick of his eyebrows when you lower the collar of your sweater, exposing the skin just below your right clavicle that displays your own gash.

“I got this when I used to race during my first couple years at university.” You smirk when both his brows shoot up, clearly not expecting your story. “I was drifting and my component spun out and drove me off the road and I smashed into a guardrail. He was fine, but my windshield shattered and a big piece of glass just wedged in right here.” You press a finger against the very visible healed stitching. “It hurt like a motherfucker, dug into my bone and all that, but the scar came out pretty bad ass, don’t you think?”

He tilts his head with an amused expression, as if not expecting you to sound somewhat proud of your preventable injury.

“I’m sure you were smart enough to stop racing after that.”

“Yeah, but I still went to functions and stuff. And then one night, cops busted our spot and a bunch of us got arrested. I spent a couple days in jail and my brother had to come bail me out.” You pause to think about how irate Jin had been, flying halfway across the world to pay your bond, dragging Namjoon along to fight for you not to be charged. Jin chewed you out the entire time, about how dangerous that was and how you could’ve killed somebody and yourself. Of course you knew that, but you’ve always proved to be a damn good driver, only racing on empty roads after memorizing every wind, bump, and bend. You never let him see your scar because he would find a way to never let you see the light of day again. But then he made you transfer schools and you lost touch with your racing friends. You made sure your brothers never found out your accident didn't deter you from speed racing. You were just too good and made money off of it that you couldn't give up.

“And what was that you were saying earlier about being stuck alone somewhere with a felon?” He muses sarcastically, snapping you back to the present.

Glossing over that snide remark, you launch into another anecdote, regaling him in the story of the first time you ever raced when you lost horribly to your brother and he never let you live it down. And the time you were the getaway driver when your brother and your friends decided to add to the graffiti collection under a bridge near boarding school.

“I think you’re oversharing,” he intervenes when you bring your spiel to a close.

“Would you rather sit here and talk about the weather?”

“I’d rather not talk at all.” He looks down as soon as he says it and your eyes droop into a frown. Well, so much for that. Leave it to a guy to pull stupid shit like that.

“Right,” you mutter, leaning down to pick up your bags. “All I’m good for is a fuck.”

You get out your wallet and a large chunk of the cash that you won, leaving a sum for the bill on the table. As you rise, you fold a larger wad in half and slam it down next to his hands. He glances at it before dragging his gaze up to you, blinking a few times as you harshly stare him down. You sniff, swing your bag onto your shoulder, and turn your back on him.

“Stop.” You do and turn, slowly. “I know I’m an asshole, but I wasn’t implying that, okay?”

Blinking at his response, you step up to his edge of the table. You tilt your head, waiting for him to elaborate but when he doesn’t, a mildly disappointed sigh leaves your lungs.

“If that’s your idea of an apology…” He stares up as you hold him in suspense. “Then I’ll take what I can get.”

The tiny quirk of his lips has you plopping back in your seat, albeit a bit reluctant. As you set your bag back down, he slides the cash back over.

“Well, I’m not taking your money.” You frown.

“Well, at least order something to eat, I don’t mind treating. Unless you have that weird masculine thing where it’s offensive if a girl pays for food.”

A light smile threatens to break out on his face and you think it could be the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

“Nah, I’m never one to turn down a free meal.”

He finally orders and you try not to watch him eat, finding it endearing the way he rests his fingers holding chopsticks against his cheek while he chews. So you just return to quietly sipping your drink and watching the rain beat down on the pavement, illuminated by the street lamps. Occasionally, bumps rise on your skin like they did earlier when you feel his eyes on you. You just let him stare because it makes you feel warm.

The bowl slides to the middle of the table and Yoongi sits back with a satisfied sigh. You look over and smile, getting ready to tease him about his appetite but then the bell rings and Yoongi’s expression drops completely. He straightens in his seat, pulls the bandanna up over the lower half of his face and a dreadful feeling sinks into your gut when he grabs the chopsticks and holds them with a tight grip, veins popping and knuckles paling. You look over your shoulder, blood stirring with anxiety when you see a few men from the poker game heading straight for your table.

“Get your bag,” Yoongi mutters, shifting so his feet are turned to the side. Swallowing thickly, you bring up your backpack and wrap your arms across it, pressing it into your chest.

“So you decided to catch up to her before us. Well done, my friend,” the man says, clapping Yoongi on the shoulder. A cold front moves in on the tips of your fingers, settles a tundra in your gut and freezes you in your seat when Yoongi doesn’t look at you, just stares at the man above him.

Was this all just a ruse? He was just keeping you here so his friends could come and mug you? You’re not that naive.

Right?

Just when you start to doubt all of your life choices, Yoongi smacks off the man’s hand, leans forward with his eyebrows furrowed at you.

“I’m not with them.” Your heart races as you look between them. For once, you feel backed into a corner.

“Yes, you are, pretty boy. Because if you’re not, then it seems to me that you both plotted to set us up and that means you’re both in trouble.”

“No one plotted anything. I’ve never met him before,” you declare, catching onto their lie, washed over with relief that you haven’t been duped.

“You just underestimated me and that’s not my fault.”

The man looks at you with an ugly lip curl.

“Oh, yes it is. You never should’ve been there in the first place, so hand me and my friends back our money and this all goes away. No one gets hurt.”

Yoongi’s jaw moves like he’s grinding his teeth. “That’s not what I heard,” he mutters.

Your clutch anxiously onto the sides of your backpack, not wanting to know what he means. You slowly reach under your chair to grab onto your duffle, ready to run at a moment’s notice.

The stranger bends down to lean towards you. “Give me the money. Now.”

“Get out of her face, man,” Yoongi spits, standing with a hand on his shoulder to push him back. You stand as well, holding tightly onto both of your bags as you look back at the door, but for all you know, there are more men out there waiting.

You jump when the man attempts to snatch your bag but promptly withdraws with a shout in pain, and you don’t expect to see Yoongi piercing his shoulder with the chopsticks. As your heart and mind race, he yanks the utensils with added red out, keeps them in his fist, and shoves back the two men who crowd him, sending them into the tables behind. Dishes crash and customers leap up in exclamations of surprise, and Yoongi takes the opportunity to push you away and get behind you, hand flattened on your spine to compel you in the direction of the kitchen.

He seizes your duffle bag so you have an easier time moving, and you both ignore the protesting shouts from the chefs and servers as you run through the hot kitchen. As you stumble outside, the rain cascades over you, and your heart stops for a moment when you realize you have no plan to escape. But then he wraps his free hand around your forearm, glancing up as more shouts echo from the restaurant. He pulls down the bandana. His face looks radiant in the blurred street lights.

“This way.”

You both take off down the block, and in the midst of the sprint, Yoongi slides down his hand to instead curl his fingers around your wrist and leads you across the street. It’s not the rain that makes you shiver.

The scent of the storm washes over you as your feet hit asphalt, a few honks blasting from cars you dart past. Yoongi puts himself between you and the vehicles that shout profanities at him and you can’t help the laugh that escapes you when he shouts right back and throws up a middle finger. You slide your hand into his palm to give him a good tug so he won’t end up in another squabble with an irate driver and he turns back to you. For some reason you’re smiling and when he looks at you, your heart pounds, but it could easily be mistaken for exertion. But when you spot the crinkle at the corners of his eyes that tells you he’s smiling too and your pulse skips a beat, you know it has nothing to do with running.

You have no idea where he’s taking you. But at this moment, you trust him with your life. It’s a 360, but it’s freeing. And nothing like you’ve ever felt before.

You run until you reach the end of the block where a black Ducati motorcycle is parallel parked in between a stretch of cars and he picks up a matte black helmet from the seat and holds it out to you.

“Here, put this on. Hurry up.” The fiberglass is covered in droplets of rain. It means safety, but from this man who gave it to you? Who keeps confusing you?

A dilemma.

“Why did you come after me?”

“What?” he half-shouts over the loud pattering of downpour. “We don’t have time-”

You step up to stand face-to-face with him and he blinks confusion down at you, mouth open as his chest heaves, panting, orange hair darkened and drenched. You glance down at the chopsticks are still trembling in his hand. Adrenaline. He snaps them in half and throws them into the street where they get carried into the storm drain.

It’s raining, but there’s a fire. You repeat your question, keeping the helmet down at your side so there’s not more than an inch between you. He holds your gaze - doesn’t blink or look away. Darkness surrounds you, but there’s none in his eyes.

“I just did.”

He gives no reason, so neither do you when you bunch the front of his soaked black crew-neck and yank him into you, into a kiss that will be seared into your mind like a core memory. He doesn’t lean into it for a split second, like you caught him off guard, but when he does, grabs the side of your face to take over and opens your mouth with his tongue like he’s always meant to taste you, it’s messy and desperate, teeth clacking and mouths moving uncoordinated. It’s the hungriest you’ve ever been kissed. Drinking in the rain, drinking in each other, the helmet slips from your fingers and you don’t notice for a second until he breaks away from your swollen lips and holds it up to you.

“We gotta go.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, regret taking over. He shakes his head and places the helmet into your hands. You frantically look over your shoulder where a few men are catching up, pointing their fingers and shouting as they spot you.

“Come on,” he urges and you slip on the helmet, facing back to see him swinging his leg over the bike and starting up the engine. He sits with your duffle slung around his neck in front of him, chin on his shoulder as he glances back just as you slide behind him.

“Hold tight.” He barely gives you enough time to circle your arms around his waist before he kicks off the curb. The bike roars to life and he speeds it away from the pavement, taking off down the street and into the night. Full of possibilities. You rest your head between his shoulder blades, unable to see the way his fingers tighten around the handle bars. Staring off to the side, you watch the night go by, road illuminated by street lights filtered through the rain, and your heart hammers at the adventure of it all.

The engine still purrs when it comes to a stop, now far enough away from danger. The rain has reduced to a drizzle and your heartbeat thunders within the fiberglass. You flip up the visor so he can hear you marvel,

“You stabbed him.” For you. He stabbed a man for you. And you think that’s why you kissed him.

“I know.”

“That was fucking metal.” His chuckle travels through his chest, so you can feel it in your own.

“I’m glad you think so.” ******* “So, where you headed?” he asks once he comes to the next stoplight. The smell of salt wafts in the air, tell tale sign of the beach.

“My hotel.” “Do you know the directions? I’m not google maps.”

You laugh against his back and tighten your hold around him. His muscles tense up beneath you. At this point, you think you’d let him take you anywhere, but you’re feeling bad about the kiss.

“You don’t have to take me all the way there. Just drop me off at a bus stop, it’s around here somewhere.”

“Buses don’t run this late.” You know for a fact that they do, but you don’t want to dispute him. Especially if it means you can hold onto him like this for just a little longer. Damn. You hated him just a little bit ago. Crazy how fast things can change in the blink of an eye.

“I’ll take a cab then.”

A rev of the engine fills a pause. “It’s late.”

“What?” He clears his throat, talks over his shoulder.

“I said it’s late. And it’s raining. I’ll just drop you off.” A spread of heat in your chest makes this chilly night a bit bearable.

“I thought you’d be itching to get away from me.”

“Yeah, you’d think,” he mutters, hanging his head, sounding dismayed. Or bitter.

“What’s the catch?”

“No catch. Trust me.”

“You just want gas money, huh?” He huffs and tosses his head back, strings of wet hair allowing you a glimpse of his undercut.

“Just give me the damn directions.”

******* All too soon, the venture comes to an end when he pulls into the lot of the beachfront hotel. Quietly, he parks and shuts off the engine and it takes you a second to come down from your rush and realize you’re still holding onto him when there’s no reason to anymore. You snap yourself out of your daze of wishful thinking that this night will never end and remove your arms, immediately missing his warmth and touch. A little too quickly you move off of the seat and he straightens as you stand, removing the helmet and you miss the way he watches you shake out your hair. When you meet his gaze, your heart starts racing again, butterflies multiplying beneath your diaphragm as he stares at you for a moment before glancing down to the helmet you hold out to him. He accepts it with a subtle nod and rests it in his lap while you internally panic, trying to find something not stupid to say so this whole ordeal with him doesn’t end.

“Well, thank you. I half-expected you to ditch me on the side of the road and ride off with my money.”

He leans forward with a soft snort, resting his wrists on the center of the bars, and your heart starts to do gymnastics at the notion that he finds you amusing because it gives you hope that he’s interested enough to not leave yet.

“I’m not that much of an asshole.”

“No, but you’re pretty close.”

“And yet you got on my motorcycle.”

“You told me to trust you and I do.”

“You just said you expected me to ditch you and take your money.”

“Half-expected,” you emphasize. “There’s always room for doubt.”

Just the corner of his mouth quirks up in a smile and you don’t want to see it leave.

“Speaking of room, do you have a place to stay?”

“Not around here,” he shakes his head, leaning back to stuff his hands in his jacket pockets. “But I have a friend across town who’ll let me crash, so I should probably get going.”

Tonight, with this man, has been an entire amusement park of emotions. From obscene attraction, to utter loathing, to being enlivened and now to just being plain disappointed. You don’t want to get off this ride just yet.

You squat down and drop your bag to the ground, digging into the front pocket for a pen and notepad. After you find one and rip out a page, you straighten and stride up to the bike without looking at him, writing down the number of your room. You fold it up once you’re done, passing it over, and watch him hesitate before accepting it.

“In case you change your mind,” you say, pointing at the page with your pen as you cap it. “Or if your friend doesn’t want a felon crashing on their couch.”

“And you wouldn’t mind a felon crashing with you?”

“I let a felon fuck me in a goddamn closet. What do you think?”

He holds your stare for a moment before a subtle smile breaks on his otherwise unreadable expression.

“Well, that’s good to know,” he says, shaking his head, and looks at the note for a second longer, then stuffs it in his jacket.

You sense an impending ‘but.’

“But-” You hate being right. “I think I’ll be okay. You should head inside, it’s starting to rain again.”

Not knowing what else to do besides stare at the ground and contemplate if you should write down your number too, you awkwardly hold out your hand, and then upon realizing how weird that is, quickly change your mind and retract it. Embarrassment flooding your cheeks, you reach down to snatch up your bag and turn around. You don’t wave, don’t say anything because what else is there to do? You don’t want to say it was nice to meet him because you’re still trying to figure out if it was, nor do you want to say ‘see you’ because you’re not sure if you ever will after this. 

You don’t look back, and as you head towards the main entrance where you can pick up your room key, the sound of the motorcycle revving into gear echoes around you and it’s only when it disappears in the distance do you turn around, wishing you weren’t watching him go. More like you were still on the back.

.

.

.

thanks for reading!! let me know what you think! i love to yap!!

xxx - claret p.s. i wrote the poker scene after watching a ten-minute wiki-how video on how to play texas hold 'em lmao

masterlist

taglist: @rinkud @taegijns @viankiss @polarnightmyg @futuristicenemychaos

@busanbby-jjk @lixies-favorite-cookie

[sterredem]

enough for you

Lando norris x ex!Singer!reader

Face claim Olivia Rodrigo

Warning comparison, angst (not really), not proofread, spelling mistakes (as always)

Summary basically just the song enough for you

A/N no part 2. I really love this one. It’s a bit short but still one of my favs.

Don’t forget to repast and comments. And dead back is also welcome❤️💜

Twitter

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Real life

Y/n was miserable. That was to say the least.

While her relationship with Lando was at the beginning beautiful now it was… not. As the internet has seen she has changed herself. She begin to where make up. That was because she thought if she looked like the people he had dated before he would like her more. All that and all the hundreds of dollars spent on make up only for him to say he wasn’t the ‘compliment type’.

She also began reading his self-help books. That was because she wanted him to think she was smart- she was. That was besides the point, but she wanted her to seem intelligent in the things he read too.

Besides those things she did some things that he would like; she learned his coffee order, and how you can make. And she learned all his favourite songs. She now knew all of them by hard.

And still, with all that. He was an asshole. Sure he wasn’t mean but he could surtenly be nicer. Because while y/n did all those nice things, Lando just couldn’t get himself to appreciate it or acknowledge what she did.

And that is how she ended up here. Crying on the bathroom floor after she realised everything he did wrong. She realised it after seeing the comments left on her newest YouTube vlog. After that she also saw some twitter threads and then everything hit her. He was in the wrong, not her.

And she was done.

After a few hours of self pity she decided that it was time to get ready. What was she getting ready for you ask? A date with Lando…

Yeah maybe that wasn’t the best idea.

But she stood up and made herself look presentable. After waiting a few more minutes the doorbell rang and she walked to the door. There he stood. He looked good. But she knew what was to come. They greeted each other kind of awkwardly. They both knew that their relationship wasn’t the same as before.

They walked to his car and got to a restaurant where the date was.

That part of the date was alright. The part where it got wrong was when they both returned to the girls house. She invited him in and he took the invasion.

Once in and seated on the couch Lando began talking “Y/n I am so sorry to do this to you.” He began.

“Can you just get to the point?” The girl cut him off. She already had teary eyes.

“Alright. I want to break up. We just aren’t the same anymore. You are never satisfied with anything I do, and I just don’t love you anymore. I care about you as a friend, but not as a partner.” Lando said. It almost looked like he was trying to fake cry. But that happened more than once. Y/n had just accepted that he didn’t have much emotion for her once the 1 year mark passed. And that was 1 year ago.

Y/n was speechless. Well not really. But all what he had to say was ether insulting him, screaming at him or saying things she will regret. So she just waited till he soos something else. She knew that there will be something else. Thief relationship was more complicated to just leave because he ‘didn’t love her anymore’. She knew that.

“Y/n, say something. Please.” She didn’t. He repeated the sentence a few times. Every time he said it a bit louder. Until he was almost screaming. “Say something dammit! Be mad at me, scream at me, punch me. Anything! Just not silence.” Lando said. She had a suspicion why.

“Why Lando?” She whispered. Lando almost didn’t hear her. But he did. And he had a questioning look on his face.

“Why what?” He asked aloud. His voice a little softer than before.

“Why don’t you love me anymore? What is it? I know these is more to the story than you are saying.” She said. She was now talking aloud.

“I- Y/n. I am so sorry.” He said. He didn’t want to say it out loud. “I-“

“Just say it Lando! I deserve to know. You are breaking up with me. Just let me know why.” The girl said.

“Y/n. I don’t want to hurt you.” The boy said. She gave him a look. “Alright. I just- I haven’t loved you for some time. And so I just began talking to some people. And there was this girl- we didn’t do anything. But I have come to love her. I just- I am so sorry Y/n.”

That was the breaking point for the girl. She had a suspicion about it but him really saying it hurt. “Please just leave.” She said. She was now almost crying.

Lando took the hint and walked out of the room. He walked back with some paper towels for her and placed it on a table. “I will go home. I will bring your things at my house to your friend. Can you maybe packs a box with mine? You can just drop that off at mine when I am away on a racing weekend. I will put the keys of your house on the table by the front door.” Lando explained. With that he walked out of her house and placed the key on the table.

When she heard the door close she broke down. At this point she was filling crying. He found someone more exiting. All the things he had said hurt hear deep down. All she had ever wanted was to be enough for him.

Maybe she just wasn’t as interesting as all the girls before. But still- he couldn’t have cared less. She loved him more than she had ever loved someone else.

After a few more minutes of crying she stared thinking again. She didn’t want his sympathy she just wanted herself back.

She didn’t just broke her hard- he broke so much more.

She needed to think about something else. She first needed to poor her heart out and then get a distraction. But how could she do that best?

She had an idea. So she walked towards her music studio, grabbed her notebook and began writing. She sat there for a few hours. Writing, making melodies, recording voice notes and music notes. Until she almost had a whole song.

After that she called het best friend for a distraction. But not befit she had sent all the notes to her producer.

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Instagram

Liked by TaylorSwift and 4.836.836 others

Yourusername ‘Enough for you’ out now! This is a song that is very close to me. I wrote this song a time of my life where it felt like there was no hope. I hope that you will all love this song as much as I do💜

View all 206.835 comments

Taylorswift Amazing song💜

SabrinaCarpenter A real masterpiece

Y/f/n 💜💜

Charles_Leclerc Another banger Y/n!

LewisHamilton Great job Y/n👏

OscarPiastri Always a great song when it is an Y/n y/l/n song

Maxverstappen1 We do love the song as much as you💜

Carlossainz55 Isn’t that good waste?

User1 OMG SO GOOD!!

User2 SO THIS IS ABOUT LANDO??? I am now a Lando hater!

User3 OMG! There are so many drivers in the grid! I think Lando last almost all his on grid friends!

User4 BANGER

User5 💜💜💜💜💜

User6 THIS SONG IS JSYRBYSCEJSGENAUS

User7 WE LOVE IT💜💜

User8 I love how supportive her friends are (the singers and drivers)

User9 AAAAHHHH

User10 Do we maybe get moreee????

User11 YOU FOUND SOMEONE MORE EXITING

User12 THE NEXT SECOND YOU WHERE GONE

User13 This song really hits hard after a break up

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[waynes-multiverse]

The Exit Strategy – Part 1

Summary: Russell is ready to hang it all up and retire, open up a brewery, and enjoy the rest of his civilian life. However, there's one important thing missing before he can take the big plunge. Luckily, he knows just the right person to help him find it.

Pairing: Russell Shaw x Female!Reader

Warnings: +18, language, mystery, a tinge of angst, humor & brotherly banter, one tiny surprise 🤓

Word Count: 5.8k

A/N: Happy holidays, guys! Enjoy 🎄❤️

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Part 1: This Is Not a Pipe

The heavy truck door slammed shut behind him as Russell slid into the passenger seat with an exhaustive sigh. Colter’s big pickup was parked right next to his beautiful Chevelle in that same old motel parking lot in Virginia.

Russell hadn’t moved – yet. Well, sort of. He’d been away on assignment in some frosty region for a couple of weeks. He wasn’t allowed to say where exactly he’d been, and he knew better than to put it into writing, so let’s just agree he was at the North Pole looking for Santa Claus.

He could’ve ended up anywhere he wanted once he touched ground in the States again, but a very appreciated phone call from a former colleague made the decision for him. Besides, Russell knew this particular motel well. The coffee was more than decent and got the job done, the owner and employees were nice, comforting, and, most of all, trustworthy, and there were always fresh towels.

“Extra fluffy for you, Mr. Russell,” Rosa, the maid, would say every morning with the brightest smile.

Oh, and they had a hot tub in the back…

“Thanks for coming, man,” Russell extended his greeting without glancing at his younger brother once. He could feel Colter’s scrutinizing eyes on him, though, drilling for answers. Granted, his request had been rather unusual, so Russell understood where his younger brother’s ever-frozen furrowed brow stemmed from.

Providing answers didn’t come easy for the older Shaw, however. In fact, it had always been sort of a problem for him – even in the past. Especially in the past. Russell never lied, but he did omit things. Important things. On purpose.

“Yeah, uh, sure,” Colter replied with a polite smile as he started the car and rolled out of the lot.

Ah, yes, politeness…

That was what they were at, although it was progressively improving. It was only the third time the brothers were seeing each other since they had reconnected. And while the last two encounters had given the Shaws some well-needed time to talk things out and build trust, Colter was still naturally wary of his estranged sibling. As was Russell.

“So, what’s this about? You were pretty vague on the phone. You in trouble?”

That finally caught Russell’s full attention. He quickly shook his head, causing his hair to fall into his face. “What? No! No… No trouble,” he swiftly assuaged his brother with a dismissive hand gesture and a lighthearted chuckle. “Just need your help tracking down an old friend of mine, is all.”

Colter quirked an eyebrow at that. “Another Army buddy of yours?”

“Uh, something like that, yeah,” Russell replied rather mysteriously and didn’t even try to conceal the fact that he was hiding something more behind his ambiguous answer. But Colter only intensified his stare at him and wouldn’t let go that easily. Russell knew that. After all, they were related.

Persistence was a Shaw family trait. Another survival skill, if you will.

But this time, Russell wasn’t hiding a big government secret (or maybe he was). No lives depended on this particular mission (or so he thought). He wasn’t protecting a client, a company, or even his dubious employer (but someone else). He wasn’t choked by an NDA or about to save someone in grave danger (as far as he knew).

No, if anything, it was the fact that Russell didn’t know how much he could or should share with his brother. They were related, yes. But, technically, they hadn’t seen each other in decades, so they weren’t just considered merely estranged but strangers. Russell had always been aware of that fact, and Colter was beginning to catch on.

Especially during this mission.

See, once upon a time, the two hadn’t been just brothers. After moving to the cabin, societal contacts became scarce for the siblings. All they had was them. They were friends. Best friends. Always competitive, but friends nonetheless.

How much did they really know about each other now, though? How much of the old was still there?

“So, who are we looking for? What’s the guy’s name?” Colter asked, suddenly eager as he jumped into gear. He had always been restless, even as a kid, which fondly reminded Russell of their childhood.

But how much was he still the Russell that Colter once knew?

Well, Russell, on the other hand, remained calm and ruffled a casual hand through his beard. “Well, she’s, uh–”

Eyebrow cocked, Colter snapped his head to the passenger seat where his brother started to squirm. “Oh… Oh, so it’s a she,” he emphasized with a small grin. “Now I think I get it.”

There it is. I knew it, Russell thought with an internal sigh. In order for this mission to work, he knew he had to reveal some things. Private things. Things about himself and his life. Going in, Russell knew he couldn’t ask Colter for help without giving him something.

Their father had loved tests (and so did you – but that’s another story…). Russell always thought it had been the professor in him. So, Russell saw this as a test as well.

Could he trust Colter? And more pressingly, considering some long held accusations of murder, did Colter trust him?

A clear of Russell’s throat cut right through Colter’s chuckle. And then, the eldest tried his best to give no reaction at all. “Yes, she’s a… woman, but hold your horses. It’s not what you think, okay?” Colter lifted his eyebrow once more, causing Russell to heave another exhaustive sigh. “Fine, alright? It’s exactly what you think.”

Well, close enough, Russell thought. He knew Colter couldn’t even possibly imagine the reality in his wildest dreams.

Usually, Russell was an expert in avoiding uncomfortable questions. He was a pro at ditching answers and keeping secrets, even under torture and duress. However, there was just something entirely unique about dodging questions posed by little brothers.

And Russell saw it as a perfect bonding opportunity. He wanted to fill the chasm between them that their father’s death had caused – once and for all. But he couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t walking around on eggshells most of the time – something that reminded him of you again.

Learning from past mistakes, Russell wanted Colter to experience the fun side of him. The one that brewed his own beer, cared too much about his car, and had weird tastes in food. He chose to leave out the rest – the dark stuff and the very best stuff, too.

After all, Russell was good at omitting things.

Colter chuckled triumphantly. “Does this mean you’re finally giving up on Reenie?”

Amused, Russell let out a snort. “Ha! You wish… First things first, alright? Let’s just see how this thing pans out. It’s kind of a long shot. You know that exit plan I told you about?”

“Yeah, you wanna open your own brewery, right?”

“Yeah, well, let’s just say in an ideal world this, uh, woman would be part of that exit,” Russell said and sounded purposely casual as if he didn’t care the mission was successful or not in the end, omitting yet another thing – he did care.

He cared a fucking lot.

“Really? Okay.” Colter scratched his jaw and gave his words some thought. Then he offered a small, yet kind, smile. Honestly, Russell didn’t know what he had expected. “But, you know, if you want me to find the future Mrs. Shaw, I’m gonna need more information to go on. A name, last address, or a-, uh, a picture, maybe?”

“Well, name’s not gonna help you much in this case.” Your first name might’ve been shareable intel, but your last name was of the highest classification. “Her last address that I know of was in Berlin. And while I do have one photo of her, it’s not meant for your eyes, brother,” Russell said with a firmly territorial look that still carried a mischievous twinkle, revealing the exact nature of the photograph to be indeed inappropriate.

Russell had one naughty photo, yes. But he had a whole giant box of others, too.

Colter’s eyebrows met above his nose as he licked his lips. Customarily, people gave him more details when they needed him to find someone. But then again, those people usually weren’t his brother. “Do you know anything about this woman? How long have you two dated?”

“Uhm… not that long,” Russell supplied with a clear of his throat before mumbling the rest of his answer, hoping his beard would swallow most of his words. “Ten years. Give or take…”

What is time anyway if nothing but a concept, right?

Colter blinked at him and almost steered the vehicle off-road before gripping the wheel a little tighter. “I’m sorry… Did you just say ten years?”

“Well, might be more like twelve,” he admitted finally. “Well, anyways, saw her last three years ago.”

“Wow, okay, uhm…” Colter became quiet for a moment, speechless probably, the tiny bits of information running on a loop through his mind. He figured his brother still had lived a life while they hadn’t been speaking. Of course he had. He just never thought about what that life might have entailed, aside from classified military operations. “So, you’ve dated a woman for twelve years…”

“Fourteen.”

“…haven’t seen her in three, and know basically nothing about her?”

Russell snorted a laugh. “Yeah, I know. Ridiculous… Not even sure the name she did give me was her real one,” he said. It was a joke. He did know the name. He knew everything there was to know about you. So, maybe he did lie – sometimes. “But it’s the job, you know? It’s-, uh, it’s complicated.”

That part was true. Truer than he could ever possibly describe in words.

“I guess so…” Colter sighed, and Russell could hear the growing frustration. “So, she does what you do?”

Russell nodded. “In a way, yeah…” And Colter knew what that answer meant – he couldn’t say more. Again. “But don’t worry. We won’t have to turn over every stone on the face of this planet. I have a general idea of where she lives these days,” Russell provided. “One of my, uh, associates was working a job with her not that long ago. That’s how I found out she’s back in the States.”

Colter nodded in acceptance, knowing it was no use to try and prod more answers out of his brother. “Alright. Guess that’s something. So, where are we headed to?”

Russell then flashed him a grin with newfound determination sparkling in his green eyes. “Falls Church.”

The short drive had remained quiet for the most part. Colter refrained from asking more questions, knowing he wouldn’t be able to get straight answers out of his older brother in one form or the other. To accentuate Colter’s assumption of receiving non-answers, Russell mostly stared out the window with an intensity that had Colter believe his brother was counting trees when, in fact, Russell was pondering what he would, could, or should tell Colter.

Of course, Colter could also always ask more questions about their elusive father, but he didn’t do that either. Sure, one could say he was curious. More than that even.

What did Russell really know about his death? Their mother? Their family? Their work?

Another time, he kept telling himself throughout whenever he stole glances at his long-lost sibling. It was too soon. What was the point when Russell was so clearly reluctant to share anything at all?

Thus, there was nothing left but silence among peaceful woods and dense foliage till Colter pulled his truck over curbside in the idyllic town center of Falls Church.

Patiently, he waited a moment for Russell to open the floor and tell them their next logical steps. He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, blew raspberries, clicked his tongue, and waited and waited and waited…

Nothing.

If Colter didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought someone carved a lifeless wax statue out of his brother and planted it on his passenger seat. Russell’s entire body stood motionless, only a set of green eyes flickered alive every once in a while and swayed out the windshield in search of something – or someone.

“So, what’s the plan here?” Colter asked with a clear of his throat. “You just wanna stay here and wait till she accidentally runs across the street?” It was meant as a joke, but to Colter’s dismay, Russell remained dead serious.

“That’s exactly what we’re doing,” the older Shaw confirmed and squinted his eyes at the busy street. Again, he had omitted a few things. In his mind, Colter didn’t need to know why Russell knew to be in front of the post office at exactly 15:03 (UTC–4) on a Tuesday.

Colter snorted a laugh. “What? C’mon, that can’t be the plan… Do you know how many people live in Falls Church? Or in the general Washington metropolitan area? We could be here for days. Weeks even…” The younger Shaw then switched fully into work mode, grabbing his phone from the Bluetooth car mount. “We’re never gonna find her like this. You got a phone number, maybe?” But before Russell could answer, Colter replied himself, shaking his head at his own silliness. “What am I even asking? Of course you don’t.”

Russell only smirked at that. Restless, he thought again.

“What about an old one? Maybe even that would help. I could call Bobby, Reenie… You got anything? Nothing?” But the younger Shaw’s questions apparently stumbled upon deaf ears. “Russell? Russ? Are you even listening to me? I’m trying to help you here. You could at least–”

“Found her!”

Russell almost jumped out of the car as his voice rang with sheer excitement. His heart was beating a mile a minute when his emerald eyes landed on the target. It felt like the very first time all over again.

Granted, the first meeting didn’t go so smoothly – there had definitely been some bumps (all on his part). Then again, he expected this next meeting to go a little roughly too (again, all on him).

“Wait, what?!”

Russell downright beamed. “Told you this would work.”

Colter only scoffed under his breath, the familiar competitiveness crawling back to the surface. “Yeah, well, beginner’s luck, okay?”

One boot had nearly touched asphalt before Russell remembered this wasn’t a situation that required him to storm in guns a-blazing – not even covert. Gentle hands, he reminded himself and swiftly closed the car door again, falling back into his seat. His lungs deflated.

Colter, on the other hand, was more confused than ever. “What-, uh, what are you doing?” Half-amused, his brow furrowed a bit more. “If you’ve found her, go talk to her. Where is she? Who is it?”

Curiosity could only be contained for so long. Colter wanted to know who had been a part of his brother’s life for almost as long as he had. He felt this was a key piece of information that would cause the first domino to fall. And then, revelation after revelation about Russell’s past would unravel.

Basically, Colter was waiting for the big epiphany. No pressure.

Russell vehemently shook his head. “Can’t. At least not like this. I need more intel first. You need to find out her name, and then we need your guy Bobby to get onto this.”

And yet again, guess what? Yes, Russell was, indeed, omitting things.

“Me? Why me?” Colter blinked at him. Surprise, surprise…

“‘Cause, obviously, she’d recognize me,” Russell pointed out. Again, omission. Like he had explained earlier, it was a real problem…

Colter exhaled a deep sigh. “Okay, and I’m guessing you’re still not gonna tell me why we’re doing all of this, right?”

“Nope.”

“Yup, thought so.” Still not convinced, Colter narrowed his eyes at his clearly paranoid brother. Maybe paranoia ran in the family. Not to point fingers – he recognized it in himself, too. “Do we really need to go through all that trouble? I mean, you’ve known that woman for, what, fourteen years, you said? Isn’t that a little extreme… even for you?”

Fifteen, Russell corrected in his mind. Close to sixteen. Nineteen max.

“Just trust me, okay? It’s necessary,” Russell reassured, knowing those words bore some weight. Hurriedly (he was getting antsy – this was a time-sensitive issue), he pointed a finger out the window to the sidewalk across the street. “You see that woman walking into the post office? That’s her.”

“What, the brunette in the flowery dress with the golden cross necklace? That’s her?”

“Yup.”

“Wow, okay…” Surprised didn’t come close to explain how Colter felt. He had expected… different. His brow almost met his hairline, but he still tried his best to conceal his wonder – to no avail.

Suspiciously, Russell leaned back in his seat and assessed his brother’s demeanor with a small glare. “What?”

“Nothing.” Colter threw his hands up in surrender, swallowing. “Just… She doesn’t really seem like your type.”

Amused, Russell stifled a chuckle. “And what exactly do you think is my type, little brother?”

“I don’t know…”

“What, you think some nice Christian girl is too good for me?” Russell deadpanned. Admittedly, he enjoyed bantering with his little brother. It reminded him of what he had missed out on for years. This was what he had wanted and longed for since he had left the family at eighteen.

Well, “left” wasn’t really the right word for it now, was it? It implied a voluntary act, and his leaving wasn’t so voluntary.

“That is exactly what I’m saying,” Colter countered, laughing. “It’s just, you know… dental hygienist in a motel hot tub springs to mind.”

“Okay, alright… You done?” Russell huffed, shaking his head. He refrained from showing his honest amusement. “You’re gonna follow her in or not?”

“Alright, I’ll go,” Colter finally agreed somewhat enthusiastically and jumped out of the car, swiftly following the woman inside. After all, he was curiouser and curiouser…

Russell kept his eyes trained on his younger brother until Colter vanished inside the post office. Now, it was out of his hands, only hoping his little brother wouldn’t blow it. Chances were high he would. Not that Russell didn’t have some faith.

He just had more faith in you.

Colter spotted you picking up mail from a PO box and decided on a plan of action in a matter of seconds. After all, he was quick thinking on his feet and the best at what he did. That’s why he was here. That’s why Russell had picked him for the job, right?

As you made your way back to the door, Colter eloquently intercepted you without disturbing the crowd. Another thing he had learned from his father.

He bumped straight into your shoulder and almost tackled you to the ground by the sheer force of his sneak attack. The mail in your hands scattered to the tiled floor like autumn leaves, and as Colter bent down to help you pick it up, he took a peek at your name on a postcard.

“Oh my God, would you look at that… I’m so sorry, Miss–,” the younger Shaw apologized clumsily, “Nora Laurier.” He uttered your name with a suave smile as he handed you back your pile of letters. The flirt in his eyes, however, he only added for Russell as revenge for Reenie. “Beautiful name.”

Your hands lingered on the letters between you for a moment as you took in his features and tall stature. It left you with a strange haunting of familiarity.

“Thank you,” you finally said with a hint of a smile as he let go of the mail. “Be more careful next time.”

“I will. Sorry again.” Colter chuckled with blushed cheeks and watched you leave. He waited till you had passed the row of windows before exiting himself.

He was a good actor, too.

Antsy, Russell almost bit his lip bloody as he stared the post office down till a migraine began to form. God, what he wouldn’t pay for some X-ray vision and super-hearing. He could be downright Superman with that – and the hero always got the girl.

His heart dithered anew with longing as you walked out – it took his breath away. You always did that, and you did it well. But then, you stopped short for a mere second, which wouldn’t have caused a civilian to raise a single brow. But Russell did.

“Shit…” he mumbled in the silence of the truck and lowered himself down to the dashboard. He watched you reach for your phone in your purse and call someone as you headed down the street.

Eventually, you stopped three houses east and finished your call in the shade of a tree next to a busy (and noisy) bus station. Russell caught your eyes drifting back to the doors of the post office, though, just as his little brother walked out and jogged towards the car.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Russell ducked even further down, hitting his head in several places. “What did that knucklehead do?”

The driver’s door opened as Colter casually slipped inside. “Got a name,” he announced victoriously. Part of his happiness emanated from gathering yet another puzzle piece of his mysterious brother – meeting you. “She goes by Nora Laurier now… And she seems nice. Way too nice for you, actually…” As he drifted off, his eyes searched for the elder one before finding him almost kissing the floor mat. “Russ, uh… What-, uh, what are you doing down there?”

“What the hell did you do?” Russell’s tone was both snappy and frustrated.

“Whoa, what d’you mean what did I do?” Colter waved off defensively. “I did what you told me to do!”

“She made you!”

“She did not make me,” Colter brushed off with a laugh, quite confident of his own skill set. They’d had the same teacher. He would know if you had suspected anything.

“Then why did she wait and look after you, huh?” Russell pointed out in annoyance.

Colter’s lips itched to break a smile. He couldn’t help it. It was the perfect opportunity to teach his flirt of a brother a well-needed lesson. “Well, maybe I caught her eye… piqued her interest, you know?”

Russell cocked a brow from below, his stare lethal. “Did you flirt with her?”

Colter hesitated for a moment. Mostly for dramatic effect. “I-, uh… You told me to get her name. ‘Sides, I told you Reenie was off limits.”

“Oh, so this is about revenge? Very mature.” Russell frowned. “She still there?”

“Where?” Colter stretched himself a bit as he looked out the windshield.

“Tree. Bus station.”

An amused smile formed on Colter’s lips as he spotted you. “Oh, yeah. I see her. I don’t think she suspects anything. She’s not even loo-… No, uh, wait… Yup.”

“What?” Russell’s brows drew together as he rose a little from his crouched position.

“Yeah, she’s definitely looking over here.”

“Well, stop looking down,” Russell hissed through gritted teeth. After a deep breath, he spoke in a calmer, more advising tone, “Pretend I’m not here.”

“Trying to, trust me… Should I wave at her? Smile?”

“Are you nuts?! Just look ahead. Pretend you’re getting a phone call.”

Colter did as he was told and held his phone to his ear. “She’s still looking,” he informed with a pressed smile, barely moving his mouth when he spoke.

“Okay, what’s she doing now?”

“There’s a-, uh, there’s a car coming and pulling over by the bus station. Dark gray Audi A6. Virginia Plates. Yankee-Papa-Charlie-5824,” Colter said as Russell hauled a pen from his pocket and began to jot down the plate numbers on his left palm.

“Copy that.”

He’d memorize them anyway, but one could never be too safe. He could get a concussion in the next hour or so (most likely because of you), and then what?

“Okay, she’s getting in,” Colter narrated. “Driver’s in his late-thirties. Male. Glasses. Medium height. Medium build… I think you could take him,” he added with a teasing grin.

“Shut up,” Russell retorted. “Are they gone now?”

“Pulling away from the curb and… Yep, they’re gone. Headed south down the road,” Colter affirmed.

“Alright.” Russell popped back into his seat with a sigh and some sore muscles. He had been sure he’d heard a few bones crack while he’d been cowering down there. He might be finally getting too old for these missions. But that was part of the reason why he was here in the first place – retirement was calling. And Russell wanted to fill the chair next to him on the porch.

“You good?” Colter checked and choked the small laugh that wanted to escape upon the ruffled sight of his older brother.

“Yeah, go ahead and follow them. Just keep a low profile,” Russell instructed. “On our way, you might wanna call your op analyst, too. See what he can find out.”

“Alright,” Colter agreed somewhat reluctantly but still tailed the sedan. “You sure this is a good idea?”

“What d’you mean?” Russell said mindlessly, keeping his eyes focused on the target vehicle.

“Us… stalking your ex-girlfriend?” Colter noted with a cocked brow. “And her potentially new boyfriend?”

Russell only laughed at that. “We’re good. Trust me.”

Admittedly, though, a small part of him wondered (and worried) if this was all real. Maybe Nora Laurier wasn’t your real name, but it might be your actual new one – one you’d adopted as a safety precaution after you’d left it all behind. Maybe you had finally done it and retired, found a perfectly normal guy, and settled down – just without him.

Or:

Maybe you were still in the game, after all.

Russell was hoping it was the latter. Otherwise, he could probably expect a hefty restraining order in his future, but he wasn’t about to tell Colter that. Not until he knew for sure.

The Audi parked in front of an organic grocery store a few blocks down. Colter chose a spot across the parking lot, keeping a reasonable distance with the perfect view. Russell watched as you and Unnamed Man #1 sauntered into the store, an arm slung tightly around your waist and a smile on your face.

While on the phone with Bobby, Colter could tell that the sight of you in another man’s arms stung. “Okay, uh, thanks, Bobby.”

“What’d he say?” Russell fired as soon as Colter had removed the phone even just an inch from his ear.

“Uh, well, there’s some bad news,” Colter revealed hesitantly and licked his lips, not knowing how he was supposed to break his brother’s heart. “Bobby ran the plate number through the DMV. It’s registered to an Aiden Laurier.”

“Laurier?” Undeniably, Russell’s heart flinched at the connection. “Maybe a brother. Cousin…”

Or a colleague, Russell’s mind stubbornly added.

Colter bit his lower lip hard before he spoke, “They’ve been married for two years. I’m sorry, Russ.”

A hand comfortingly patted Russell’s shoulder. A part of him wanted to scream heavenward, but something else inside was gnawing on him.

He clicked his tongue. “No… No.” Sure, one could argue that denial was always the first step of grief. “No. No way she married sweater-vest John Mulaney over there.”

“I’m pretty sure she did. Bobby sent me the marriage certificate,” Colter countered and showed him the screenshot on his phone.

Russell glanced at it for a short second, not even bothering to waste more time on fake news. He shook his head. He knew better.

“Nah. I’m not buying it. You need to go in there and tell me what you see.” He sealed his words with an encouraging pat on the shoulder.

Colter exhaled deeply. “Russ, I-, uh, I think you need to let this go, man. You’re starting to… Never mind.”

“No. Go ahead. Say it,” Russell prompted with some thunder in his voice. “I’m reminding you of Dad, don’t I?”

Colter only twitched his shoulders. “I mean, yeah. A little.”

Russell’s head bobbed in thought before he met his little brother’s eyes. “You really don’t see it?”

“See what?”

“The post office, the road crew over there, the-, the fake documents?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“C’mon… Just think about everything Dad taught us, huh?”

Was Colter really not getting it? Russell found that quite hard to believe. He had known his little brother to be as sharp as a whip. While Russell didn’t always have the nicest things to say about their father, he could admit the old man had prepared them well for life. Well, one life at least. This one.

The nomad life, the odd jobs that required them to have a particular set of skills like Liam Neeson.

Colter shook his head. “I have no clue what you’re talking about, Russell.”

Russell let out a sigh and leaned back in his seat. “Alright, if you don’t see it, you don’t see it.” A smirk twitched in the corners of his lips. “It’s your funeral, brother…”

With narrowed eyes, Colter pursed his lips. “Alright, just tell me one thing, okay?”

“You know I can’t tell you anything,” Russell reiterated and brushed his beard.

“I know. I know… It’s not that kinda question,” the younger Shaw reassured.

“Go ahead,” Russell relented and curiously looked at his brother.

Within a second, Russell could think of a million questions Colter might want to ask him, but this hadn’t been one of them:

“In the past three years, how many times have you thought about her? And I don’t just mean ‘crossed your mind’ every couple of months. I mean ‘seriously thought’ about her?”

“Hmm.” Russell pondered for a moment before replying, “Every damn day.”

It wasn’t a lie, no omission of anything, and Colter could tell. You were the first thought that popped into Russell’s still groggy mind when he woke up and the last one every night that fluttered across his weary eyelids. Obviously, he didn’t give Colter the soppy answer, though.

“Fine. I’ll go,” Colter softened his stance. “You owe me,” he added with a pointed finger before setting foot outside the car.

“I do owe you. Anything you want, brother,” Russell agreed with a broad grin. “How about we start with a full case of my homebrew, huh?”

Colter danced gracefully through the aisles, spying through canned goods and boxes of cereal. He watched you carefully select fruit with your husband, move through the dairy talking about “organic” and “locally sourced” till you landed on a few choices of toothpaste and finally strolled to the cash register.

Everything seemed boringly normal and ordinary. You chatted with the cashier. They handed you a coupon, which you slipped into your purse. Your husband paid with his credit card (which carried the same name matching the DMV records), and both of you left the store with two paper bags in your arms.

Once through the sliding glass doors, you stopped and turned to your husband. “Darn, honey, I think we forgot the milk.”

“You want me to grab it?”

“No, I’ll do it.”

“Okay, I’ll wait by the car and load the rest of the groceries.”

Now, Colter found that odd. He had watched you spent at least five minutes in the dairy aisle. How could you forget something as basic as milk?

As you hushed inside, your husband sauntered back to the car, and Colter followed you back in. You passed right by the dairy and, with a few looks that resembled a scan of your surroundings, you slipped past the door that led to the restrooms.

Waiting a beat, Colter went in after you. But you were long gone – just not to the restroom. An ‘Employee Only’ door that led to a dumpster alley outside was just falling shut.

Granted, Colter had a bad feeling about this. It was the same feeling he always got shortly before walking into a trap. In his defense, though, you were not a seven-foot-tall, 300-pound kind of guy. He wasn’t about to be ambushed by Shaquille O’Neal, which is probably why Colter didn’t find it necessary to pull his gun.

In hindsight, he should have.

The narrow alley was quiet and empty, except for some trash littering the ground around the dumpsters. It was closed-off, too, wedged between buildings with no view to the parking lot or nearby streets.

And then, something hit him. Or better yet: You hit him. With an elbow to the face and a stiff, flat palm to his throat, Colter stumbled forward before you gave him the final blow and knocked him off balance, tackling him to the ground.

Pressing his cheek into the rough and unforgiving surface of the asphalt, you jumped on him and restrained his arms tightly behind his back. While he squirmed to get out of your hold, he didn’t use as much brutal force as you expected he would.

“Shit,” he muttered below you, his voice muffled by the gravel. A light chuckle escaped him. “Okay, you got me.”

“Sounds about right,” you agreed with a smirk and tightened your grip on his arm.

Then, Colter heard a gun click above him. Hoping to see his brother, he looked up – only to find your husband with a weapon in hand as he stared down the barrel.

“Ah, I think you broke my nose,” the younger Shaw mumbled with a groan.

“Good. You’ve been following me. Why?” you prompted sternly. “Who are you? Who are you working for? Jafari? Mueller?”

“Listen, I-I think you’ve got the wrong idea. I’m not who you think I am,” Colter argued with a strained voice. What the hell had Russell gotten him into? “This is just a big misunderstanding.”

“Uh-huh.” You could only roll your eyes at that. How many times had you heard that line before?

“Let’s hood him. Get him to the Market,” your partner suggested. “We’ll see if he talks then.”

“No, really,” Colter insisted, growing a bit more uneasy. He had no idea what the Market was, but it didn’t sound pleasant. “You know my brother.”

“Who’s your brother?” With your elbow, you put more pressure on his back.

“Ow, alright…” Colter groaned once more as the pain intensified. “Looks kinda like me. Think two decades younger. He was in the Army, so probably didn’t have long hair and a beard. Uh, kind… green eyes? No? Doesn’t ring a bell?”

Colter watched your brow furrow in his periphery as he squinted upwards. He could see the gears starting to turn in your head. You just needed one final push to put all the puzzle pieces together.

“If it helps, my name is Colter. Colter Sh–”

“Shaw,” you shot like a missile. Your jaw plummeted to the ground, your heart springing right out with it. Your grip on the man caught between your thighs loosened, hearing Colter’s sigh of relief before you heard his voice.

“Hiya, sweetheart.”

Your head darted up, the man beneath you long forgotten. You swallowed as your eyes landed on an all too familiar face – even when it was covered by a bunch of hair that had never been there before. The heart-crushing smile was still the same as if it had been ripped straight from an old photograph you had of him.

“Russell?!”

Part 2: This Is a Russell Mission

Quite the entrance! Writing Russell reminded me somewhat of Plastic Hearts Dean (minus the addiction problems unless you count lying) because of all the wild overthinking 😂

If you enjoyed this story, then I'll gladly keep working on its prequel. Was a bit nervous to post this since I filled in some family history gaps myself 😅 I also dove into the books a little and added some things that kinda fit their "show" personalities.

Please let me know what you think and if you'd be interested in a young soldier!Russell series 😉🤍

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