#still shitty Italian

[inkrabbit]

My Light

Summary: After helping Primo get through the mountain of paperwork, he's whisked away by Terzo. Unable to talk to you in the comfort of his own office, he tells you to meet him in the garden for the conversation. So why can't you find him?

Word Count: 2,756

Attention: This fic is the prequel to "Primo's Favorite" and shows the reader finding Primo in the funeral home. This would take place during Chapter Three: Back on the Road, before the brothers are loaded onto the truck.

You’re gathering up Primo’s paperwork, stacking them together and tapping the ends of the paper on the desk to straighten them out. It seemed like today had been busier than usual in regards to the documents Sister Imperator had wanted him to fill out. The poor man had gotten up at the crack of dawn, already scribbling away at the papers by the time you had gotten to his office.

“Papa!” you had scolded when you saw him, the papers already in a forming pile to his right. “You should’ve woken me up! I would’ve helped you.”

“Ah, il mio piccolo fiore, you deserved your rest.” He gave you that warm smile that was irresistible to match. “Besides, I’m a big boy. I can handle a few papers that Sister throws at me.”

“Looks like it’s more than a few…” You walked over to the desk, frowning at the large stack on his left side. “Would you like some help, Papa?”

His lips parted, ready to speak but he took time to think about it. Finally, he had let out a small sigh, his voice soft when he responded, “If you wouldn’t mind, girasole.”

“Not at all, Papa.” You took a good chunk from the stack, rounding the desk and sitting across from him. He handed you one of his extra pens, but when you reached for it, he jerked it back with a playful smile.

“It’s not Papa,” he told you slowly. “When it is just us, you call me Primo. I have told you this, no?”

“I’m just trying to be respectful.” And you gave him a smile when you finally took the pen from him. “All of the other ghouls call you Papa. I didn’t want to act like I was better than them.”

He was silent for a moment. “You said it, not me.”

“Primo!” You two had shared a laugh, your tail flicking excitedly behind you.

You two got to work after that, sharing jokes here and there until the paperwork finally dwindled down. By the time he had signed the last document and placed it on the pile, he had given you a smile.

“La mia luce,” he had started slowly, and that velvety voice made you melt. “There is something I would like to discuss with you. Something more ah…” He trailed off for a bit, his hand raised and making a few small circles in the air. “Well, I suppose it’s not considered taboo anymore.”

“Taboo?” You had laughed when you heard the word. “Primo, just what could you see as taboo?”

“Don’t tease an old man, girasole. It’s not polite.” Still, he gave you a smile and straightened himself up. “Anyway, it’s something important. You see, I have been… thinking and-”

“Primo!” The two of you had jumped when his office door had been pushed open, Terzo standing in the doorway with a less-enthused Secondo behind him. “Ah, I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“Actually, Terzo-”

“No, no! That can wait!” Terzo had shot you one of his charming smiles, bowing slightly to you. “Scusate, ghoul, but I need mio fratello maggiore for something important.” The way he spoke the Italian was mocking, like someone talking to a child.

“Just agree, Primo,” Secondo chimed in. “He won’t shut up otherwise. Trust me, I know.”

And Primo had pinched the bridge of his nose, grumbling a string of angry Italian. Still, Terzo smiled at the eldest brother.

“So…?”

Primo gave you an apologetic smile. “Excuse me, mia luce. I’m sure I won’t be long.”

“Of course, Papa.” You stood when he does, bowing to him.

“Mia luce?” Terzo had parroted, a smug smile on his face. “My my, fratello! Look at you!”

“Silenzio!” You moved to the side when Primo had picked up his pen, throwing it at the younger man. “È abbastanza brutto che ho dovuto fare le scartoffie tutta la mattina. Ora devo ascoltarvi!”

You tried to hide your smile when you saw Terzo use one of his hands like a little puppet, mocking Primo in a higher-pitched voice as his hips shook back and forth. Still, he had given you a small bow as Primo rounded his desk and joined his brothers.

“Always nice to see you, poca luce,” he grinned. You were still confused. Though you had worked with Primo for years, you had never heard that term before. Well, you decided to ask him later.

“We can continue our talk in the garden. Perhaps in half an hour?” Primo told you as he gave you that same warm smile from this morning. “It would be more appropriate as well.”

“Of course, Papa.” You gave him one last bow as he followed the others out of his office and into the hall.

“Onestamente, Primo. Il tuo ghoul?” You heard Terzo start, his voice echoing through the halls. “Sto iniziando a pensare che potrei essere una cattiva influenza.”

“Zitto!” Even from there, you could still hear the distinct sound of a soft scuffle, most likely Primo hitting the younger man. You smiled.

So here you were now, making sure the papers were ready. You didn’t know why Sister had wanted him to fill out so many, but you were just glad you could help. Spending time with Primo, no matter what you two were doing, had always been the favorite parts of your day. Over the years, it felt like the connection with him had gotten stronger; closer. You two had fallen into sync, and there had been several occasions where one of you would start humming a song, only for the other to say “I was just thinking of that.”

Even apart from him, you felt in tune with his emotions. Anger, embarrassment, annoyance. You assumed Terzo was having his fun annoying the eldest Emeritus. You couldn’t wait to hear what Primo had to say about it later on.

Half an hour. You take a moment to yourself, staring down at the little succulent you had gifted your Papa. What had he wanted to talk about so badly? It wasn’t like him to be nervous or to beat around the bush with anything; and yet, the scent of the anxiety had stained your senses.

You take your time, tidying up his office before you make your way to the garden. It wouldn’t be too long before he met with you, and you could finally get to hear what he wanted to talk to you about. You had planned on teasing him some more, deciding to tell him that it wasn’t polite to keep secrets from his favorite ghoul. You couldn’t stop smiling. You could already hear that playful gasp; see how he would lay a hand over his chest as he feigned offense.

While you wait, you decide to rip out some of the weeds that line the walkway by the fountain. Primo always hated these things and you were more than happy to give him a small surprise. You feel at ease as you pull the dandelions out, pleasantly surprised when some of them still have the roots attached. You stand up to discard them in the nearby trash, wiping the dirt off of your hands.

The next thing you know, a surge of adrenaline and fear courses through you, your knees buckling and sending you to the ground. Your hands ball into tight fists, claws pricking at your palms as your tail wraps around your leg. Your mouth hangs open, but you can’t find the strength to scream or even breathe. Images of Primo flash through your mind, offering you a bit of comfort before the feeling finally fades away. Still, you’re kneeling on the ground, a trembling mess as the dirt clings to your black robe, your grucifix just barely scraping the ground as it gently bounces with each heavy breath you take. This wasn’t normal and your first thought goes to Primo. Did the old man nearly fall again? You remember having the same feeling when his foot caught on the leg of his desk and he went tumbling to the ground.

You pick yourself up, dusting off your robe and straightening it out. You take a few more deep breaths, making sure you’ve completely calmed down before starting for the gate. You’d just go check on Primo real fast; tell him you had gotten a bad feeling and just wanted to make sure he was okay.

But the scent you followed led you to an empty room. While it was still flooded with the scent of the brothers, they were nowhere to be found. Maybe they had just left? You decide to retrace your steps, wondering if you possibly had missed Primo on your way through the abbey. The layout was rather huge. It could’ve easily happened.

“Primo?” You call out, slipping through the gate. To your dismay, you don’t get a response. You walk around the entire garden, calling his name, wondering if the wind was carrying off his scent so you couldn’t locate him. But still, he doesn’t turn up. You know it’s silly, but a part of you is starting to get worried. It was normally so easy to find the old man.

You decide to return to his office. Maybe he went there instead to get ready to turn the paperwork over to Sister. So back to the building you go, rubbing your face. You couldn’t wait to tell him about this little goose chase you just went on. You could hear his playful voice now: “I’m not a child, quello piccolo. I know how to care for myself.” And you fully intend to bring up the last time he got sick and pouted up and down while acting so pitiful when it was only the two of you.

“Ghoul!” You see Sister Imperator walking towards you, hands folded in front of her as she’s accompanied by one of Secondo’s ghouls.

“Good afternoon, Sister.” You give her a bow. “I trust everything is well with you?”

“Just splendid.” Her smile feels… off, but you decide to ignore it. “You can go see Papa I now.”

“Oh, you’ve found him?” You feel a wave of relief wash over you. She gives you a nod, turning to the ghoul beside her.

“Go on. You remember where he is.” There’s something about the way she says that – the way the ghoul bristles beside her that doesn’t sit right with you. But still, you follow the ghoul through the abbey and… towards the funeral home?

“Ghoul…” He looks back at you, your steps slow. “Why… why is Papa Primo out here?”

“It’s not just Primo.” His voice is strained. “It’s all of the Emeritus brothers.”

“What do you mean?” You two stop outside, his hands folded in front of him.

“I’m sorry.” No… “Papa Nihil and Sister Imperator – t-the clergy…” He takes a deep breath, steadying himself. “Ghouls weren’t allowed to decide. They appointed three ghouls to carry everything out and that was it.”

You turn away from him, pushing the door open. Your throat closes up when you see the open caskets, hot tears spilling down your eyes. The only thing you can muster through your opened mouth is a pathetic whimper. You force yourself to walk forward, hands shaky as you reach out to touch Primo’s face. He’s wearing his papal robe, along with his makeup and mitre. He looks peaceful, laying there with his hands folded across his chest. But he’s so cold.

The sound you finally get out is unnatural; a guttural scream that takes all of the air out of your lungs as you fall against the casket. You bury your face in the silk robe, tears staining the material.

“Wake up!” It’s the only thing you can manage to get out, aside from calling his name. You grab his hand, squeezing it, hoping that the sensation would rouse him awake. “Please, Primo! You can’t leave me!”

You raise your head, releasing his hand to cradle his face once more. “Please. Please! I need you!” Your wipe your tears on the sleeve of your robe, clearing up your vision. Your hand moves from his cheek to his shoulder, shaking him. And still, he lays there, silent and limp.

You look around. The other brothers are also dressed up, makeup and all. You feel sick. This isn’t how it was supposed to be. You turn your attention back to Primo. “Master, please. Just wake up.” You choke out another sob. “You promised! You told me I would never have to go through this!” Your grip on his shoulder tightens. “Why won’t you wake up?!”

You don’t know how long you stand there, bent over his body. Your throat hurts from your screaming and begging, your tail wrapped around yourself in a pathetic attempt for comfort. Your body is trembling again, shaky hands reaching up to tug at the chain of your grucifix. You pull it over your head before slowly lowering it into his casket, tucked right beside his body. Reality was finally setting in. No amount of begging and crying would bring him back. Still, it didn’t make you feel any better.

Your fingers curl underneath the hem of the robe’s neck. You tug at it a bit, remembering how he used to complain about it choking him. There had even been more than one occasion while on stage where he would try and casually readjust it. You hoped that, by the grace of Lucifer, you loosening the neck would give him some sort of extra peace in the afterlife. The last thing you do is lean forward, pressing your lips to his forehead.

“Ti amo, Primo.” Your voice is still shaky, but you try your best. “I’ll miss you.”

One last gentle caress and you finally pull yourself away from him, your arms wrapped around your middle. You keep trying to breathe steadily and to calm yourself, but you still let out a few pathetic sobs here and there.

Secondo’s ghoul isn’t outside the funeral home when you exit. Fine by you. You weren’t exactly in the mood to exchange any more pleasantries with him.

You let your legs take you past the abbey, mentally checked out as you walk. You don’t exactly realize where you are until you smell the flowers surrounding you. Another hard sob, your chest feeling like it’s going to cave in. It hurts just about as bad as your throat does from your wailing. By this point, you’ve run out of tears, your sleeve soaked from wiping your eyes so much.

You open the glass door to the greenhouse, slowly trudging inside. It’s warm, making a shiver run up your spine. You make your way over to the old bench, legs giving out when you sit down. Still, you bring them up and to your chest, wrapping your arms around your legs as you bury your face between your knees. Why? Why did they have to take him from you? Why so soon?

“Ghoul?” You don’t respond at first, not realizing someone’s calling out to you until it’s said again, louder. “Ghoul?”

You pick your head up, still sniffling as you see that silver mask. “O-Omega?”

He’s slow as he moves further into the greenhouse. He reeks of sorrow just like you’re sure you do, the scent getting more intense as he draws closer.

“May I?” He gestures to the space beside you. Instead of answering, you shuffle over, giving him more room. “I suppose you saw.”

“Yeah.” You can’t muster anything else, trying to keep your composure in front of him as you slowly uncurl your legs. Still, you can’t stop yourself when the crying wants to start back up again.

Omega seems to notice, his arm wrapping around you and pulling you towards him. You only notice that he’s softly crying when you bury your face against his shoulder, his body bouncing with each sob. The more you two cry, the tighter your hold on each other gets.

It takes you a while, especially waiting for the moment you think you’ll be able to talk without stuttering, but you finally pull back to look at Omega. “Do you know what uh… what mia luce means?”

His ears flick and he does his best to clear his throat. “I think that’s… my light? Why?”

Another round of sobs racks through you as you curl in on yourself. Everything hurts more knowing you would never be able to know what Primo truly wanted to talk to you about.

Translation: Mia luce - my light Scusate - Excuse me mio fratello maggiore - my big brother Silenzio! - Silence! È abbastanza brutto che ho dovuto fare le scartoffie tutta la mattina. Ora devo ascoltarvi! - It's bad enough that I had to do paperwork all morning. Now I have to listen to you! Onestamente, Primo. Il tuo ghoul? - Honestly, Primo. Your ghoul? Sto iniziando a pensare di avere una cattiva influenza su di te - I'm starting to think I have a bad influence on you Zitto! - Shut up!

[acgames]

Listening to music before sleep and thinking about your own story really does help to fill some missing plot holes...

[grimgummies]

YIPPEE MORTIS ANGST!!! :D

HELLO you want to see my poor son suffering,, Enduring the worst times of his life,, Dealing with everything he was put through on his own cuz he had literally NOBODY to go to

Because if so...

So do I lol

[magpieinthemorning]

(I left out the stupid joke)

[thewingedwolf]

every time something new with a latino lead pops up i think of that gina torres quote that’s like “hollywood prefers when it’s latinos look italian”

[moriphyte]

mom: do you wanna take this food home?

me:

[devondespresso]

Let Me Raise The Bar

T | 3,602 words | Steddie | also on ao3! | Modern AU, Meet Cute, Fluff

This fic is for the @strangerthingswritersguild fic exchange, by @starryeyedjanai and @devondespresso. Thank you to @dreamwatch and @bubblesandink for betaing for me!! <3

dividers by @/thecutestgrotto

edit: oh my god i forgot the keep reading the first time im so sorry guys

This night is going terribly.

He keeps telling himself he’ll delete all his dating apps for good, but the prospect of being alone forever always has him re-downloading them.

Right now, he’s remembering why he hates them so much.

He hates Tinder, specifically—guys on Tinder only want to fuck. And if that was what he was looking for, that’d be fine, great even!

But he wants a relationship and guys on Tinder will say they want one too and then turn around and leave right after they get what they want.

At least guys on Grindr are upfront about it being just a hookup—no one’s getting their hopes up or feelings hurt when it turns out to be just that.

Tinder guys will take you on a date and pretend to be interested in you as a person and then won't fucking text back after they leave your apartment the next morning. It’s annoying and it’s frustrating and it’s a waste of Steve's fucking time at this point.

And this guy tonight isn't even trying to pretend. He tried to get Steve to blow him in his apartment building garage before they even left for the date and he really should have taken that for the red flag that it was.

But Steve looks good, and he did his hair routine that takes entirely too fucking long for no one to appreciate it.

His date drives him to this hole in the wall restaurant that Steve must have passed a million times on the bus ride to his job without ever noticing.

He thought he might be able to turn things around when they got there—it’s a small Italian place, a real family-owned type vibe to it. He knows before he even orders that the food is going to be some of the best he’s tasted since moving here.

He tries asking the typical first date questions to get to know him, but his date keeps giving him short answers. So he switches to talking about himself a little, but then he realizes his date’s been staring at his mouth the whole time he’s been talking and Steve finally snaps that he isn't getting into his pants.

Steve breathes out a deep sigh as his “date” gets up and goes to the bathroom. Some fucking date this is—they haven't even gotten their fucking food yet. What a disaster.

“Hey,” he hears their waiter—Eddie, his nametag reminds Steve when he looks up—say after a minute of his date being gone. “I hate to be the bearer of super bad news, but I just saw your date slip out the back door, and I don't know if he’s planning on coming back.”

There's a lilt of sympathy in his voice and Steve can't help but snort.

“Of course he did,” Steve says. “Why can't guys just be upfront about what they want? It would save everyone so much time.”

He’s not looking for an answer, but Eddie's mouth twists and he says, “Guys are stupid. I mean, they’d have to be to give up the chance to get to know someone as cute as you.”

Steve can't really muster up a smile at the pity, so he says, “Well, whatever the case, he was my ride home, so I think I need to call a Lyft now. Can you box the food up and bring me the check?” At least he’ll have lunch for tomorrow, which doesn't feel like an adequate consolation prize for how shitty he feels right now.

Eddie shakes his head and says, “There’s no way I’m letting you pay for such a shitty date.” Steve opens his mouth to protest, but Eddie continues, “Tell you what, my shift ends in ten minutes. Why don't I show you how I’d treat you if we went on a date.”

Steve's heart thuds in his chest, a flicker of hope in this incredibly dull evening. “Seriously?” he asks.

Eddie nods. “Think of it as a trial run. See if I rank good enough for a real one.” He winks and Steve finds himself nodding dumbly, still shocked at the rapid turn of events.

“Okay,” Steve says, kind of breathless.

Eddie heads back to finish cleaning up his other tables before he ends his shift, and Steve fills Robin in over text about what happened.

He’s still waiting for a response when Eddie shows back up with two plates of food, setting one in front of Steve and the other where his date sat before sliding into the chair across from him.

He’s wearing a different shirt, Steve realizes. It also looks like he attempted to wrangle his curly hair into something more manageable, maybe sprayed some water on it to smooth it down.

The thought that this guy, this random guy who happened to be his waiter on this horrific night, would put in more effort than his previous date makes Steve's cheeks get hot.

Maybe this night really can turn around.

“Alright, names. Hi, I'm Eddie.” Eddie says, sticking his hand out across the table cartoonishly for a handshake. Steve suppresses a laugh and takes Eddie’s hand with a smile.

“Steve.” He says, and Eddie’s eyes brighten before he takes his hand back.

“So, Steve, what do you do for fun?” Eddie says, leaning forward slightly with vibrant confidence, tone feeling more and more noticeably rehearsed as he goes. “Other than light up the room with that smile, of course.”

Steve huffs a laugh, blushing despite himself.

“You practice that one a lot?”

Eddie shrinks back a little, still smiling even as he messes with the hair on the back of his neck, already starting to ruffle what he’d tried to tame.

“Yeah, it’s uh…”

“It’s sweet.” Steve leans in a little closer himself, trying to match the effort Eddie keeps putting in. “Almost as sweet as the smile you're wearing.”

Eddie flushes pink and lets out a little “Thank you” to cover a nervous laugh—and christ, Steve is already hooked.

Steve hums and grabs his fork to start eating and Eddie mirrors him.

“Thank you for this by the way.” Steve continues, “Tonight's been… ugh, you know.”

“A special kind of shitty?”

“Yeah,” Steve sighs, “So all this is… really nice.”

“I'm glad.” Eddie says, voice soft before he shrugs and continues casually “M’hoping I’ll at least do better than the last guy.”

“Yeah, of course, you haven’t even asked me to blow you yet or anything.”

Eddie turns red and busts out a nervous laugh, looking away immediately. God, he’s so fucking cute.

“Yeah, yeah, I'm not–” Eddie looks back at him, nervous still, but sincere anyway, “That's not exactly my style.”

“You a wine and dine kinda guy?”

Eddie shrugs lightly, then he seems to get an idea, leaning in again with a smile “Actually– ideally, I'm a dine and mine kinda guy.”

A smile takes over Steve’s face that he can’t fully tamp down, a little flustered and a lot amused.

Eddie preens, then continues with a shy smile.

“Though, uh, usually it's more dine and…” Eddie pauses, “Pine. Dine and pine. You know, like pining.”

Steve makes his face relax as he nods and leans back. “Oh, yeah, like the tree.”

Eddie stops and looks at Steve, and soon Steve’s smile breaks out again.

“No, I know what you mean.” He says with a little laugh that Eddie quickly mirrors.

Eddie visibly relaxes, slouching overdramatically to the side with a sigh.

“God, I swear I’m usually good at this sort of thing, words and stories and shit,” He groans, gesturing around almost like he’s talking to himself, “But apparently I meet one pretty boy and suddenly I’ve got screws loose. And they’re all falling out, all across the floor, ‘there they go!’, y’know?”

Steve bites back a snicker and hums a quiet agreement. Eddie notices, though, looks up and sees right to Steve’s amusement, so Steve decides to save them both the embarrassment and move on.

“So your job. You like it here?

“Oh yeah, absolutely,” Eddie says, perking up and gesturing as he starts talking, “The owners are really cool, they were our neighbors– Wayne’s—my uncle’s—neighbors when I first moved in with him, way way back, and they were so chill, loved having people over. Then one time in highschool I mentioned saving up ‘cause I’m trying to make it big with my band, and they offered to give me a job here while we get there.”

“That’s awesome. Your band any good?”

“Depends on who you ask.” Eddie laughs, playing with the food on his plate, “Wayne says we’re pretty good, which is probably the equivalent of moms showing up to their toddler’s dance recitals, but it’s something.”

“Where'd you guys play?”

“The Hideout, a couple blocks down…”

Steve nods.

“Yeah, it’s, uh, pretty fun if you ever wanted to stop by.“

“Sounds like a great second date.”

Eddie blushes, playing with his hair again as he smiles and looks away.

“I’ll probably have to wear earplugs– not because of your band or–”

“No, no, no, you’re good–” Eddie says, almost jumping up to reassure him, “It’s metal, that’s normal– good, even.”

“Oh– good.” Steve says, a bit awkwardly, and looks back down to his food.

Eddie leaves barely a moment of silence before he pulls the conversation back together.

“So what about you? You just a professional bad-Tinder-dater?”

Steve huffs and fiddles with his fork.

“Guidance counselor, actually.”

“Oh damn, really?”

“Yeah, Middle school.”

“Oh god,” Eddie groans playfully, “I can't imagine going back there willingly.”

“Yeah, I mean, it can get pretty rough,” Steve shrugs, “It's good though. Kids start thinking about who they are, I get to try and make that a little less shitty.”

“That’s a tall order.” Eddie laughed into his glass. “I respect it though. Hell, just having a queer adult exist around me would’ve made a lot of it easier.”

“God, yeah. I've got practice, at least, for when they need more than just some guy standing around in an office.” he laughed, pulling out sarcastic air quotes for the next part, “ I ‘babysat’ kids in middle school before I graduated. Bunch of little shits but they were good kids– still are good. They're like four years younger than me though, so they're more like siblings than kids.”

“Yeah, bet they don't take well to ‘kids’.”

“Oh, they hate it.” Steve laughed and Eddie followed with him, “Always hated it, but Dustin put his foot down after highschool. Rob and I call them my ‘twenty-somethings’ now.”

“God, wait, how old are you?” Eddie laughed

“Twenty-six.”

Eddie laughed a little louder, a lively and full laugh that looked enchanting on Eddie.

“You'd love them, they're all–

Steve’s phone buzzes.

Both of them look over to it on the table. Steve moves it to the seat next to him, looked up to Eddie with an apologetic smile.

His phone buzzes again.

And again, and soon Eddie’s eyes flick in that direction, eyebrow quirking with barely-restrained curiosity.

Then Steve’s phone starts ringing, the electric guitars of Hammer To Fall creeping up in volume way too fast for comfort.

“Sorry–” Steve cringes, grabbing his phone and answering the call in a furious whisper, “Robin, are you dying?”

“No, but thank you for confirming that you aren’t.”

“I texted you what happened.”

“Yeah and it was vague as hell! I reserve the right to be a worrywart with this shit.”

“Yeah, I know.” Steve sighs, but can’t really argue with her on it. “This was going well, though–”

“Is.” Eddie chimes in, not trying to be loud enough for the phone to pick it up, just for Steve to hear him clearly.

“Is going well.” Steve smiles.

“Oooo okayyy.” Robin hums and Steve can hear her cheeky smile through the phone.

“Goodbye, Robin.” Steve says, failing a half-assed attempt to cover his amusement.

“Oh wait no, tell him if he tries anything I’ll–”

“M’not doing that.”

“I will though, I’ll go after him–”

“Oh woah you’re breaking up, can’t hear you.” Steve deadpans.

“Steve, I know–”

“Love you, bye–”

“Steeeeve–”

“Don’t pull your hair out.” Steve says and hangs up, coming back to the present to Eddie watching him, thankfully looking amused instead of annoyed.

“Sorry about that.” Steve says.

“No, no, it’s fine.” Eddie leans forward again, propping his head up in one hand, “So… friend?”

“Best friend, has to be to get away with shit like that so easily.”

Eddie snorts.

“What was she calling about?”

“I wasn’t clear that this new date thing was gonna be a good thing.”

Eddie nods civilly.

“She worries,” Steve continues, “Fuckin’ tinder dates, y’know?”

“Uh, not really….” Eddie smiles.

“Good for you. They’re all the same asshole in a different haircut.” Steve says, and Eddie smiles, laughing a little with him before continuing with something calmer, a little more earnest.

“Then why keep going to them?”

Steve shrugs.

“Call me an optimist, I guess.”

Eddie hums noncommittally, like he’s thinking more than he’s sharing, and continues the conversation in a lighter direction.

_

The rest of the date is wonderful. A little less chaotic, especially once they start finally eating their food for real, but what it lacks in eventfulness it makes up for in comfort. They’re not exactly quiet, but Eddie’s energy always comes with a sincerity underneath, like he’s bold and fun because he just is, and not because he’s making himself be.

It’s refreshing. And as the night goes on, it becomes intoxicating.

So when Eddie offers to save him the Lyft fee and just drive Steve home, Steve agrees, just to get a little longer in Eddie’s bubble.

Eddie leads him through the restaurant and out the back into a small parking lot with a handful of cars and one big van, decorated with a clearly hand-painted dragon on the side. Which, of course, ends up being Eddie’s.

“Dustin would love this thing.” Steve says as he hops into the passenger’s seat, not really thinking twice about it as he looks at the interior, eyes lingering on the big fuzzy dice with too many sides hanging from the mirrors.

“So Dustin is…?”

“A Twenty-something.” Steve laughs as he spins the fuzzy dice to see all of its sides. “He’s like my little brother. Loves DnD and science and… all the nerd shit.”

“Nerd shit?”

“Yeah, I mean– it's not my thing but it’s cool. I’ve played with Dustin and them a couple times.”

“Oooo, a bit of a nerd, are we?” Eddie hums in a weird, almost witchy voice.

“Casually.”

“Mmm, but you’re already down the path~~”

“Just drive, dude.” Steve says with a fond eye roll.

“As you wish, your majesty.” Eddie hums in his normal voice, giving Steve a glowing glance before shoving the keys in.

“Alright, I'm about to push your nerd-tolerance to its limits.” Eddie says, pulling out his phone with a grin. He connects it to the car and quickly turns it down before drums and guitar erupt from the speakers, and Steve flinches at the volume.

“Sorry, sorry.” Eddie whispers and turns down the music again.

Steve nods, and after a second of the music playing much more quietly, he finds it much more comfortable. Nice, even. The energy is quick and alive like Eddie is, though the aggressive vocals fit his outward aesthetic more than his borderline goofy demeanor.

“It’s not the music, I promise.” Steve says, saying it casually but meaning it sincerely.

“You’re fine, I get it.” Eddie laughs, a little too cynically for Steve’s liking.

“No, I–” Steve reaches for Eddie’s hand between them, intertwining fingers and bringing both hands up between them, “I’m serious, I like it. My head’s a little sensitive, been hit a few too many times, but it’s nice. It’s bold and very energetic… stuff that I already like about you.”

Eddie blushes hard—a sweet cherry pink—as he slouches, bringing their joined hands closer to his face like he’s trying to hide behind them. Eddie rests his forehead against the back of Steve’s hand and huffs a quiet laugh.

“God, you’re quite the charmer, Stevie.” Eddie says, and Steve finds his face warming too.

“And I’m guessing it’s working?” Steve laughs.

Eddie looks up at him, smiling wide.

“Oh, it’s working very well.” Eddie says, and brings their hands closer to him again to plant a soft kiss onto Steve’s hand.

Steve’s face goes warm again, lights him on fire, and Eddie’s smile turns slightly smug before he looks away.

“Alright,” Eddie says, looking back to the front to drive but not letting go of Steve’s hand. He even reaches his left arm over to change the gears, leaning into how silly he looks to make Steve laugh.

It’s sweet, it's genuine, and it's everything to Steve.

Eddie starts driving, hand still firmly holding onto Steve’s, neither of them willing to let go first. Steve looks at it as Eddie drives, splitting most of his attention between their hands, Eddie’s profile lit up by the colorful city lights, and the road ahead as he navigates Eddie to his apartment.

And if they miss a turn or two because Steve’s tired brain doesn’t want to watch the damn road? Eddie doesn’t mention it.

_

“Alright.” Eddie says, putting the car into park with his left hand again, though far less comically now.

He sits there for a second, quiet like something’s on his mind, so Steve waits.

“Okay, uh,” Eddie starts, looking vaguely down as he wanders through what he wants to say, “I had fun, I’m assuming by how the nights gone that you did, too…”

Steve squeezes Eddie's hand, and Eddie laughs.

“I had a really great time. And I want to do this again, if you want to.” Eddie glances up at Steve for a second before his eyes dart away again. “But I want to be sure you’re… you’re not being an optimist with me. That you want want this, y’know, because you're an amazing guy, Stevie. I don’t know how you keep having such shit luck but believe me when I tell you it's not because of you.”

Eddie looks back up at him again and keeps his gaze there, looking more relaxed now.

“So, uh, I would love to take you out again.” Eddie says, “If you want to.”

If he wants to, as if that's not the most romantic thing Steve’s heard in his life.

Steve almost says that. He also debates kissing him or pulling him into an awkward hug over the center console that he’s sure would be put up with no matter how uncomfortable it’d be. But Steve doesn’t, because Eddie continues before Steve can make a decision.

“What do you want?”

Steve resists the urge to say a cheesy ‘You’ and thinks about it, really thinks so he can put together words that make sense, so he can give Eddie a real answer.

“I want a long relationship. A real one, y’know?”

Eddie nods.

“And I want to get married, someday. I want someone who’ll stay that long, who will love and let me love them, all cheesy and clingy and shit.”

Eddie hums, searching Steve’s face.

“And?”

Steve looks down at the joined hands between them.

“And I’d love if it were you. You’re sweet, so sweet, but you’re also… alive. Everything you do, you’re…” Steve thinks hard for a moment, working out how to phrase it. “It’s like the world doesn’t weigh you down. And you’re so genuine and you’ll come and say what you mean like it’s nothing, and I think every one of the people in my life—my favorite people—would love being around you almost as much as I do.”

Steve looks back up to him, face hot with another intense flush, and tries to smile casually.

“Hate to break it to you, dude, but you’re kinda my perfect man.”

Eddie huffs a breathy laugh, face painted with disbelief and wonder.

“Okay, then. Case closed.”

“Yeah,” Steve hums, with as much fondness as possible. Steve leans in across the center console, bringing a hand up slowly, trying to signal that he’s leaning in for a kiss.

It takes Eddie a second, and Steve gets to watch him look down at Steve’s hand and look at Steve leaning in, gets to see the moment it clicked before Eddie lunges to meet him halfway and then some, making the hand that was supposed to cradle Eddie’s face hold onto the seat beneath him to keep their balance.

Eddie kisses him hard at first, bringing a hand up to card through Steve’s hair, excited and alive. Then Eddie seems to come back to his senses, moving back but taking Steve with him until they’re both leaning over the center again.

Their kiss softens, intensity melting out into fondness, gentle but passionate, warm and Steve wants to melt from it.

Still, Steve’s going home tonight, going to go upstairs to Robin and tell her all about it. He’ll get to have a good night's sleep in a bed that doesn’t need cleaning, and he’ll get to wake up to the idea of something new brewing fresh in his mind.

Steve pulls back gently and Eddie does the same, eyes flicking open one after the other, a smile on Steve’s face and another lighting up Eddie’s.

Steve catches his breath, feeling lighter now than he has in ages, and Eddie opens his mouth to say something again.

“Does this mean I can get your number?”

[ham1lton]

MISS BAD MEDIA KARMA

pairings: (alleged) charles leclerc x reader. lando norris x reader. george russell x reader. (platonic) sebastian vettel x reader.

warnings: misogynistic media and comments.

summary: after a night out with your fellow drivers, the media is alight with rumours and speculation about your romantic life. most people would call a pr meeting, you go through the funniest rumours on instagram live and rate them out of ten.

author’s note: i’m still taking questions/asks/requests so please send some in! also as usual, there is a poll at the end so please vote!

— part of my maneater series ꕤ

START INSTAGRAM LIVE. (20K WATCHING)

Y/N: hi guys! hi! how is everyone? how are you doing?

user1: Y/N NOTICE ME!

user2: y/n girl u look hungover as hell 😭

Y/N: am i hungover? perhaps. that’s probably why i’m doing this. jo is going to kill me but whatever.

user3: what are you planning on doing? 😭

Y/N: after yesterday’s… events. there have been a lot of rumours about me and my fellow drivers that have been spread around social media. so let’s talk through them and rate them out of ten.

user7: ain’t this a pr disaster?

user8: you probably shouldn’t do this.

landonorris: LMFAOOOOOO DO IT

Y/N: lando? how are you not hungover from last night? i’ll start with you. apparently according to this thread by twitter user y/nando, the two of us are secretly engaged to be married. okay first of all, why? second of all, no. i’m sorry. that isn’t happening any time soon. also, my schedule is too packed to be thinking about marriage plans. this one is 2/10 because c’mon.

landonorris: i’m searching that thread right now.

landonorris: wait lol why is this kinda accurate… are you sure we’re not engaged?

user7: LMFAOOOOOO

Y/N: we’re supposed to be EXTINGUISHING the rumours, not adding to them??? we are not engaged. we’re just friends. barely that if anything.

user8: BOOOOOOOOO

y/nando: it’s okay :) you’ll see that you’re perfect for each other one day.

Y/N: will we? anyways. next rumour. according to some monaco newspaper, charles and i have a secret child. this is apparently backed up by some anonymous sources.

landonorris: BOOOOO we get some shitty engagement rumour and you and charles get a child. i want a redo!

charles_leclerc: don’t deny our child y/n 😔

user6: y’all are MESSY 😭

user9: CHARLESY/N SUPREMACY 😍

georgerussell63: end the live y/n 😁👍🏻

Y/N: what is this photo? this is supposed to be proof of my pregnancy? i was just bloated from an evening of indulging at this amazing italian restaurant. it was gorgeous. whoever used this photo is dead wrong for that. this one is 5/10 cause i feel self conscious.

user12: no deadass 😭 if i was famous i would have had a million pregnancy rumours by now.

user68: no charlesy/n baby? BOOO!

Y/N: another one. george and i were spotted buying baby clothes in london. apparently george is me and charles’ baby’s godfather. there is no baby! charles and i don’t have a kid. so george is not the godfather!

georgerussell63: wait… why not? i would be a great godfather actually. i am offended.

user9: george going from telling y/n to switch off the live to being offended he isn’t the godfather of her alleged baby is crazy 😭

Y/N: also why was i shopping with george and not my alleged baby daddy? charles you’re a deadbeat to our non-existent child and that’s why this newspaper is saying that george is raising my kid?

charles_leclerc: apologies to leclerc jr but no way i’m letting george raise him.

georgerussell63: i’m not ready to be a stepdad but c’mon i’d be a great one.

user4: george isn’t the stepdad, he’s the dad that stepped up!

logansargeant: i’m upset that i haven’t been included in these rumors.

Y/N: if i was gonna ask anyone to be my baby’s stepdad it would be oscar. this rumour is 3/10 because it’s so unbelievable.

oscarpiastri: NOOOOOOOO 😰

user9: HELP???

user67: i’m watching this while doing my makeup. y/n is my favourite influencer!

user78: i was watching your vlog when i saw the notification!

Y/N: did you enjoy this vlog? for people who haven’t seen it yet, it’s detailing my offseason with my friends and family! we travelled a little and i did some work with my sponsorships! so check it out. we have some very interesting camera people.

user65: can’t believe you had the usher do your camera work for your superbowl vlog.

user8: you met beyoncé, you never gonna fail!

user67: be honest, did you faint at the sight of all the big celebs?

lewishamilton: y/n, this is all very interesting but maybe you shouldn’t be doing this? - sebastian.

Y/N: seb?? what are you doing here? and why are you on lewis’ account? don’t you have your own?

lewishamilton: i lost my login information 😅 and i got a message from charles telling me to shut this down - sebastian.

Y/N: what a snitch…

user23: he mad y/n didn’t accept their child 😭

Y/N: speaking of sebastian, here is my favourite rumour. that sebastian is my father and i’m his secret lovechild.

youryoungersis: wait…. is that why we look so different? you have a different dad???

lewishamilton: i’m not that much older than you? how can i be your dad? i’m only 13 years older than you! do i look that old? - sebastian, NOT your father.

user7: HELPSOSJSSJ

user5: NOT HIM CLARIFYING 😭😭

Y/N: that one is funny but no. we don’t even look alike! i hear a lot that we have the same mannerisms but that’s probably because i practically grew up around the guy. i’m rating this one…. 7/10.

lewishamilton: grew up around not with! - sebastian, NOT her father.

user2: BRO WE GET IT 😭😭😭😭

Y/N: so basically, time for the last one. this one is definitely the most out of pocket one.

alex_albon: BOOOOO I MISSED MOST OF IT

danielricciardo: 🤣🤣🤣

user98: HELSPSOSJ i’m laughing so hard.

Y/N: oh hi jo! how did you get in? WAIT!-

INSTAGRAM LIVE ENDED. (98K WATCHING)

[kissitbttr]

Miggy getting babied by his pregnant wife?

hiii! i hope you don’t mind, i changed it a bit because I don’t want it to look too much alike on the other one! this one’s short, enjoy! xx

-

being a mother to a 6 month old pregnancy bump isn’t easy. if it was, fathers could do it.

and that’s what miguel had been learning through it all. seeing your mood swings shift in a span of thirty seconds, constant cravings for ice creams, kebabs etc, snapping (directly at him and mostly at him), frequent backaches and fatigue. he’s very much impressed how an existence of a human being living inside of you could actually change you as a person.

still, doesn’t mean he loves you less.

“ugh, i’d give my left tit for a big plate of mofongos and a fat ass joint right now”

the two of you are cuddled up in the couch, watching some lame old american tv show that miguel seems to find enjoyable. you’re dressed in one of his t-shirt and grey sweatpants. ones that you had claimed as yours despite miguel’s protest.

your husband chuckles, pulling you closer by the shoulder. “lucky you, mami. i bought an extra before i came home just for you. i could heat it up for you later if you want.”

a dreamy sigh escape your lips, reaching out to kiss his cheek. “thanks papi. you’re the best. what about the joint?”

he snorts, head shaking as his eyes cast down to yours. “i don’t think weed is good for the baby.”

“says who?” you fake a gasp, pulling back slightly. “it’s literally herbal! unless it’s contaminated with tobacco. don’t we have a stash up in the closet?”

“you finished them all, ma. basically rolling those joints with your pretty fingers before this happened” he points at the bump. “usted es avaro, mi corazon. barely left some for me”

a smile pulls up into your mouth, head resting against his bare chest. hand interlocking with his. “remember when we were celebrating our one year anniversary and got high?”

“ay dios mio” he groans playfully, rolling his head back. “don’t remind me, baby”

“it was so fun” you ignore the embarrassment creeping into his cheeks, grinning even wider when he tries to hide it. “we went to taco bell after.”

“yeah and i threw it up because it tasted like shit”

you hum, nodding along. “and decided to get shawarmas and fries instead because we weren’t satisfied”

“one with the small food truck in 133th street” he confirms, his cheek against the crown of your hair. smiling at the memory. “i remember you told me not to get ones from across that italian place that you like because we need to support small business. had to stop you from crying too much because you kept saying how unfair it was for rich bastards to keep open up restaurants when they have shitty palate”

his comment makes you laugh hard. his grip around your hand tighten. some sort of pride blooms in his chest when he sees you laugh freely like that.

“oh god i remember!” as you slowly recover from the laugh. “we sat on the pavement after that right? you kept telling me how you want me to be the mother of your child.”

“damn, why do you keep recalling all the embarrassing things i did, huh?” he asks jokingly with a deep chuckle. now his attention isn’t even on the tv anymore.

“because it’s cute! you were so cute!” he shakes his head once more, biting down a shy smile as you shift your body weight to wrap your arms around his neck. “my miggy is so cute with the ‘i want you to be my wife, i want to get you pregnant, mi amor. say yes please, please, pleaseeeee’”

you continue to mock his actions back then, watching him cower down at the attempt of you trying to mimic his voice. strangely enough, you almost got it right.

he has his hands covered his face.“stop that, princesa! come onnnn”

you respond with a head shake as a ‘no’. “ay, papi don’t be shy” you giggle, trying to pry his hands off. “come on. let me see my hubby. let me see him”

miguel doesn’t budge for a while before peeking in-between his fingers like a little kid, then slowly peeling his hands away, jutting his lower lip forward.

you gasp, hand over your heart. “god damn! you can’t be walking around looking like that! can’t have all the girls falling for the sexiest man alive”

he rolls his eyes, smiling at your compliment. “stop being biased, baby!”

“i am not! how dare you calling the mother of your kid a liar, hm?” you tug him down, letting his head rest in between your neck and shoulder blade. “my baby daddy is sooo handsome. i won the fucking lottery.”

“definitely the other way around, love.” he disagrees, hand coming up to rest on your bump. “you stole my heart the moment you walked into my office that day. never thought in my life that a gorgeous architect made me get down on my knees and pray to the lord up there to let me have you.”

now that makes your heart skips a beat. how could you compete with that? he never fails to make you swoon even after years of being with him. it’s like the butterflies never stopped.

“hmm now you’re being biased, miggy”

“nope. i was so sure that i was in love with you.” he then turns to look up to you, tone becoming serious. “my god, you were the finest thing i have ever laid my eyes upon, mami. was literally bending over backwards to impress you. and now? seeing you swollen with my baby just made you ten times more gorgeous than before. you’re the love of my life, mi amor. and i will prove it to you for the rest of my life if i had to”

truly, you had never believe in luck or hope. it’s something that never sits well with you. odds never had been in your favor and you believed that for the longest time. you were fine being all alone. you have a job that pays you well, great condo, a body that you learned to adore, a loving mother. four things that you have always been so grateful for. you wouldn’t change a single thing.

but when miguel happened? everything in your life had changed for much better. from having to do everything on your own to ‘i got this one baby’. sure, you weren’t exactly comfortable with it at first, because you had never been the one who had asked for help.

yet you learned to love it all because of him,

with a grateful smile, you trace your fingertips across his soft lips. beautiful red eyes not leaving yours, as if he’s afraid that if he looks away for a second he would lose you completely,

“you’re the love of my life too, miguel”

-

don’t forget to reblog and comment babes!! xx

[chronicowboy]

imagine you're a guy finally admitting he's queer in his thirties in a macho field of first responders, you got to watch your coworker be an out and proud lesbian at your shitty station but you still don't feel like you can be yourself until you leave behind everyone who knows you for harbour, few years down the line an old coworker calls you to ask you to fly them into a hurricane, you say sure what's the worst that can happen, and maybe you want to repay the woman who showed you what bravery was, and there you meet a golden retriever of a man who is too much to think about in that situation actually, so you don't, but then after it all he puts a hand on your shoulder and smiles at you and maybe..., he calls you a few days later to ask for a tour, asks you out for a beer too but you can't quite tell whether it's platonic or not, you panicked and called him kid it's probably platonic, he shows up to a basketball game and you're pretty sure he's in love with his best friend, you mess with him just a little just for fun, but then things get bad and you go to try to smooth things over, you end up on his doorstep somehow, he's golden in the dim light of his loft and you want to kiss him but you've spent the last two weeks learning how deeply integrated he is into his best friend's family, he's not yours to kiss, except he's making fun of your fake mouth static and he's so close and he's asking to spend time with you and telling you that he wants to get to know you and admitting he wanted your attention, and well you kiss him, and he looks a little like he's just found religion but you make sure it's okay just to be safe and it is, it's okay and god you like him, you really like him, so you ask him on a date and he's breathless in his rush to accept and you really fucking like him, you pick him up at 8 on saturday, you take him to an intimate little italian restaurant, he's tense and looking around like he's waiting for someone to jump out on them and throw a bucket of rainbow glitter over their heads, you tell him about your own journey of self discovery and he listens, takes it a little like an accusation, starts rambling about being an ally, and you really fucking like him it's embarrassing.

tommy kinard the man that you are...

[captainreecejames]

Just Friends || MV1 Oneshot

part of the my ex is a footballer series [masterlist] [my ex series masterlist] [max smau]

pairings max verstappen x reader with some ex!ben chilwell x reader in the smau part, danielle campbell is the faceclaim but reader is not described in this part so imagine however

word count 5.2k

warnings talks about depression, injuries and blood dealing with hands, hospitals and medical stuff, mentions of jos verstappen, cursing, angst and fluff, not proofread so probably shitty writing and mistakes

notes this took longer than I initially imagined because i was stuck on how to get it started, but after a good nights sleep and words of encouragement from @coff33andb00ks I got this puppy started. This fic includes Adrian Newey as the point red bull person so I could avoid horner and max as an almost dog dad because I'm a dog person. It starts in the middle of the 2022 season and goes through the 2023 season. If there is enough interest, I might continue to write these two together because I really enjoyed it and there is more to explore.

songs to listen to while reading you're losing me-taylor swift / so long, london-taylor swift / same mistakes-one direction / lose you to love me-selena gomez

You met Max on accident, according to you. When you talked to your father about it years later, you would learn it was no accident. 

><

He was golfing with Adrian Newey and more coworkers but had forgotten his wallet, so he asked you to drop it off.

Now you knew he worked at Red Bull, so really it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that you would eventually meet Max Verstappen, but you walked into the country club expecting to meet some older man, not the reigning Formula 1 world champion. 

How'd Max know who to approach? Your father had shown him a picture of you so he would know who to look for. While you were searching the lobby, Max had come up to you, saying your name.

You had plenty of experience meeting famous people, even one’s who knew your name before meeting (perks of dating a football star) but it was still a shock. 

The meeting consisted of shy words and you fumbling around your bag for your father’s wallet and that’s it. No matter how much experience you had with famous athletes, it would still be weird meeting them. You wouldn’t see Max again for a few weeks, he was busy with races and staying in Monaco.

The next time would be at the base, once again you were dropping something off for your dad. This time it was lunch that he just insisted he needed, not whatever was being served in the cafe that day. 

You stood in the lobby, waiting for your father to get out of a meeting, admiring the trophies on display when Max came up to you. 

He will argue in the future that you admiring his trophies made him interested, and that he wasn’t over a little bragging if it got the attention of a pretty girl. That argument ignores the scheming that your father and Adrian had done, from complaining about your lack of interest in the sport to complaining about you needing to get out more. (Your lack of interest in the sport wasn’t true, just that you preferred Ferrari over the local team.)

So with the subliminal messaging from your father, Max was interested in you.

“I thought you didn’t really like the sport,” he said coming to stand at your side. 

You jumped slightly, not expecting anyone to approach you. “Why would you think that?”

“Your father.” You turn to him with a confused face and Max decided to clarify. “He talks about you a lot.”

“Oh, well, I wouldn’t listen to half of what he says.”

“Really? Even when he talks about the chassis?” His words are teasing and you think he’s flirting with you.

“Maybe that you can listen to.” You shrug, turning back to the cabinet. “He’s really just jealous that I prefer Ferrari.” 

Of fucking course, the Italian team. “A fan of Leclerc?” You can hear the bitterness in his voice and it shocks you a little how quickly he changes his mood.

“He’s okay,” you shrug again. Max thinks that your nonchalantness is annoying, why can’t you just admit you find Charles hot and move on.

(Hidden in the stairwell, Adrian and your father are a little nervous. They can tell that this isn’t going as well as hoped.)

“Schumacher has been my favorite, but I think of the current drivers its Vettel.” Now Max realizes that the two of you are standing in front of Sebastian’s 2010 championship trophy, and he feels a little embarrassed he didn’t realize sooner. “I’m a little bitter he didn’t win the championship with Ferrari.”

There are more “chance” meetings, but the conversation flows much easier now. Like the dinner at Adrian Newey’s house and after, when he has to give you a ride back to your new place because your parents don’t want to leave yet. Or the time when it’s suggested that you give him a ride to Luton airport because it’s on your way to London. Or even the holiday party at the end of the year where he has to give you a ride again because you’re tipsy and shouldn’t drive. 

It’s the airport drive when you both realize that you’re being set up by Adrian and your father, which causes a lot of awkwardness between the both of you during your goodbyes.

You go back home a few days later and scold your father for the set up. You don’t need another relationship right now, you tell him. He says he knows, but Max makes you happy in a way he hasn’t seen in years and that makes him happy. Your mother reminds him that you need to be happy without a man first and he says he’ll give up the endeavors to push you on to Max. If Adrian happens to come up with any more ideas that's not his fault, the man is a genius afterall.

The holiday party is more of an accident than anything, your father and mother leave much earlier than you, and so you are stuck with Max to drive you home.

He complained about the hotel he was staying at, so you offer him some time in your apartment to get away from fancy places and he takes you up on it. And now that you're home, it does’t seem like a bad idea to have another drink, just to take the edge off of having Max in your place. 

“Would you like another drink?” you offer while making your own gin and tonic. He stares around at the quiet kitchen, taking in the place that feels very you. “Or perhaps some tea?” He shakes his head no, eyes catching a picture of you hugging Ben. It’s an old picture, from when Leicester City won the league and you’ve only recently dug it out of the box it was sitting in. 

“I thought you were single,” he says, picking up the picture to examine it closer.

“I am,” you answer, turning around from the counter to look at him. You’re about to ask him where the question came from when you see what’s in his hands. “That’s from 2016, when Leicester City won the league.” Max nods like he understands, but he doesn’t.

“Who’s this?” he points to Ben.

“Ben Chilwell.” Maybe if you’re just vague enough, he’ll drop it. He doesn’t.

“Okay,” he draws it out. “Who is he to you?”

Not much of anything anymore, is what you want to say. You settle for something vague again. “A friend.”

“Looks like more than a friend.” Is Max trying to provoke you or something? He can tell you’re growing frustrated with him and it makes him feel guilty. “Sorry, I just, don’t know much about your life before here.”

You sigh, deciding that alcohol probably isn’t the best drink for now. You move to the kettle next to the stove, opting for tea to help calm you down. 

“Ben and I dated until a couple months ago, I moved back home right after we broke up.” He nods along with your story and you continue the tea making process. “Ben and I were childhood sweethearts, together since we were like 14 years old. So that makes,” it takes you a minute to do the math in your head, “12 years together.” You don’t turn to see what Max’s face looks like. A lot of people during your relationship with Ben were in awe of how long you were together, but there were some who thought it was silly and childish. Who stayed with someone they were dating since 14? (Apparently not you.)

You thought it was romantic up until a few months before the break up. Childhood sweethearts, best friends to lovers, boy next door, all tropes you loved in books and you were living it in real life! Until it wasn’t. Until you moved in the middle of a pandemic to a new city with no support system and became depressed. Until Ben needed support you and you couldn’t make yourself see that giving him everything was leaving you with nothing. 

It took an intervention from your parents to see that you were depressed, and an offhand comment about marriage from Ben to see that the relationship wouldn’t go anywhere new.

“What happened?”

“He didn’t want to marry me.”

><

“I’m just not sure I’m want to marry her, yet,” Ben says to the group. There’s a pause before he says yet, like someone made a face and he’s trying to placate them.

What the fuck? you want to ask. You want to scream it, really, because what the fuck does he mean by that? You’ve been together for over ten years, he’s said since Leicester that he only wants you, for the rest of his life. And now... now he doesn’t know? How the fuck do you not know? How can he not know? It makes you angry, the most emotion you’ve felt in probably months and it’s anger at your boyfriend.

Your grip on your glass is tightening, turning your knuckles white with the force and you worry the glass will shatter in your hand.

It does, but you don’t feel it. You don’t hear the glass shattering in your hand or on the floor, don't feel the splash of ice, gin, and tonic on your legs.

What you feel is something akin to clarity, because you’ve been living in a fog for months, probably the two years you’ve been in London and now you know how Ben feels. If he doesn’t want to marry you now, he probably won’t ever want it.

It takes your friend coming over and putting a hand on your shoulder for you to realize that something is physically wrong. That your hand is bleeding from glass cuts and you’re standing in a puddle of water and alcohol and some blood.

Emma says your name a little louder to grab your attention and now people are staring at you, wondering what’s caused the glass to shatter in your hand. She ignores them, pulling you across the room so she can take care of you.

Unfortunately, the glass is too deep and you have to be taken to an emergency room, where the nurses and doctors fuss over your hand. They ask you questions about how it happened, you explain that a glass shattered in your hands. They're suspicion is eased when Emma corroborates your story. It's soon after that you're allowed to go home.

All this time, Ben hasn’t come running into the room desperate to find you, and that reminds you why you’re here in the first place. Because Ben isn’t sure he wants to marry you.

><

“That’s how you got the scars on your hand?” Max is gentle when he takes your hand in his, holding it so delicately like you might break. You nod, but don’t pull away from him. His touch is soft and it makes you feel something you haven’t felt in a while. His hand turns so you can see the own scar on his hand. “I got this one from Jimmy, my cat.” He lets you run a finger over the scratch on the back of his hand. You run your hand over it one more time and Max get’s goosebumps from your touch.

You look up at him from your hands, your eyes roaming his face and seeing how sincere he is. It makes you nervous. 

You pull your hands back, stepping away to grab a mug for your tea and busy your hands with something besides his own.

Max can see you close off on him, but the story isn’t over yet. “What happened after the hospital?”

><

“Are you going to tell me why this happened?” Emma asks finally, walking with you out of the ED. She’s stayed the whole time, occasionally popping out to call your other friends and update them on the situation. 

It’s on the tip of your tongue to tell her, but you know what she’ll say: 'break up with him already, it’s not going anywhere and you’re obviously hurting over this. '

It’s not what you want to hear, you love Ben so much because you’ve always loved him, he’s all you’ve ever known and it used to be so good, so you know it can go back to being good.

It has to. You need it to. 

So you try to laugh it off, say that your grip is much stronger than you thought and that there must have been a hairline fracture in the glass.

But Emma doesn’t buy it. She lets you try to joke your way out of this, lets you laugh uncomfortably as she stares at you, and then pulls you to a halt at the corner. Your uneasy smile falls and you sigh. You know better than to try and hide this from her. 

“Ben said something,” it’s a whisper, like the quieter you say it makes it hurt less. She waits for you to continue, knowing that you’ll explain if she doesn’t push too hard. You take a deep breath, hoping that the air will do something, anything to make it easier to say out loud. “He’s not sure if he wants to marry me.” You hold the pause like he did, adding the yet in a pointed tone. With how much Ben has hurt you, you still want to spare him the criticism. You love him.

Emma immediately goes off, like you know she would, so you tune it out. It’s nothing you haven’t heard in the last year. 

The traffic light turns green, and you begin your walk back to the carpark, looking around the spaces to find your friend's car.

“YN!” another voice shouts. It’s Ben. 

He’s jogging to you across the lot, eyes a little wide like he’s been panicking for a while. “Why didn’t you grab me before leaving?” He means to direct the question to Emma, but he’s looking at you and you feel like he’s blaming you. “I was looking for you across the house until someone finally told me that you left for the emergency department. I was worried sick.” He looks it, you think. He does care. He wouldn’t look like that if he didn’t care. “You weren’t answering your phone, and-“ he cuts himself off as he stares at your hand. “What the hell happened?”

Oh- he doesn’t know. 

“She heard you,” Emma answers. You want to stop her, explain for yourself so you can just go home and sleep.

“What?” Ben asks, confusion across his face for a second before he realizes. You heard him. You heard him. “You weren’t meant to hear that.”

That’s his excuse?

“That’s your excuse?” Emma takes the words from of your mouth, but not the anger from your body, you clench your bandaged hand, wincing when it pulls at the stitches. Ben is still looking at you, but you’re unable to read him. “She wasn’t meant to fucking hear that?” Her voice is shrill and it grates on you because of a headache, but you know she means well. “You know what, fuck you Ben Chilwell! Go fucking rot in ditch!” With that she pulls you away from him, rushing the two of you towards her car so she can drive you to her home.

><

“That’s his excuse?” Max’s tone is just like Emma’s on that night and still you want to defend Ben. Your relationship is long over with the footballer, but that doesn’t mean you don’t love him. 

“I was a mess then,” you tell him, pouring your water into the cup, “I wouldn’t want to marry me either.”

“But he loved you, and you don’t say something like that about someone you love.” Max looks angry next to you, and that scares you even more. Not because of his anger, but because he clearly cares so much and you’re not sure if you deserve it. 

“Listen to me,” Max grabs your arms, pulling you to face him in your small kitchen. “Friends, boyfriends, people who love you-“ (Do his hands squeeze you harder on friends or boyfriends?) “They don’t talk about you like that behind your back. And also they notice when you’re gone, when you’re hurt, when you aren’t’ yourself.”

“But he was also hurting,” there are tears in your eyes from his words because you believe them, but also you still love Ben.

“And so were you, clearly. Yet you could tell something was wrong with him and he couldn’t see it in you?” Max has known you for only a few months, and has spent even less time physically with you, but he sees you and the way your brain works so clearly and that’s really scary. He must see something in your eyes because then he backs off, taking a step away to put distance between your bodies and space to breathe.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, “I didn’t mean to get so intense.” You shake your head, trying to put away the thoughts of his beautiful blue eyes staring into your own. “Just sometimes, I really want people to know that they deserve better.”

“No, it’s okay.” You pull the tea bag out of the water, looking down for the tiny plate to leave it on. “You’re not the first person to say that to me and you probably won’t be the last.” He nods, watching you spoon sugar into the tea. “But thank you for saying that, sometimes," you pause, "sometimes, it’s good to be reminded.”

><

Your friendship grows from there, but it doesn’t evolve into anything romantic. You’re clearly still healing from Ben and no matter how much he thinks about you while he’s in Monaco or off at a race, you need time.

So instead your flat becomes his base when he’s needed at the factory. He can leave clothes and toiletries at your place without worry, he can sneak a nice home cooked meal from you or your parents when he’s there, and he doesn’t have to deal with shitty hotel mattresses. (Even though it’s a Five Star hotel.)

He meets your friends when a girls night overlaps with some sim testing. They really like him and can see that his awkward charm has pulled you in.

You meet Danny Ric at the beginning of the 2023 season, when Red Bull decides to make him their reserve driver, and the two of you are like two peas in a pod. (On the plane back to Monaco Danny asks him when he’s finally going to ask you out.)

(Max shakes his head and tells him that you two are just friends, because that’s what you need. Just friends.)

Max invites you to the Monaco Grand Prix, but you decline, not interested in the media scrutiny that comes with that particular race. You say yes to the Spanish Grand Prix in Barcelona, but after he peaks at the invite list he tells you it’s probably not the best idea. You agree with him when you finally get him to tell you why you're uninvited. The Silverstone Grand Prix is during a girls trip, and with how busy it gets, you both drop the subject for a while. 

When Max clinches his third championship in Qatar you finally decide that you need to go to a race. The next one is in Texas, but it doesn’t work with your schedule so you get the passes for Mexico.

><

The Mexican Grand Prix is the perfect race to join. It’s Checo’s home race, so the focus is on him instead of Max. You stand to the back of the garage, hiding from view on Friday and Saturday. Occasionally you’ll talk with some engineers you’ve met before or share a few minutes with Adrian, but most of the time is in hiding Max’s drivers room with him. 

Most of Sunday is spent talking with the stars in the garage, explaining why you’re here and how you know people. You avoid any interviews with Sky Sports, knowing that somehow they’ll bring up Ben and Chelsea’s current run of form, something that you just can’t deal with. 

So you stay in the back of the garage, celebrate the podium in the back of the crowd and don’t wait up for Max to finish media duties, instead heading back to the hotel. It hurts to hide yourself away, you want to be the first to congratulate him on a win, or comfort him after a loss. But it’s for the best, you try convince yourself. You're just friends.

Max isn’t bitter about the decision at all. Being noticed at this race is a beacon to all fans that you are something to someone, and no matter how much he maybe wants that to be true, you’re just friends. Besides you have dinner with him and a few of the drivers and their own significant others, so really what more could he ask for?

After the season is over he’s back in Milton Keynes to finish up some things before heading out to start his holidays. Most of them will be spent with his family in Belgium or in Monaco, so he is determined to at least spend a day with you before leaving. He wasn’t planning on it being at a dog shelter.

><

“I think I want a dog,” you had told him while in Mexico. You’d spent a year alone in the flat (not counting Max practically moving in when he was needed at HQ) and things were too quiet for you. 

“Okay.” You were relaxing in his driver’s room before Free Practice 2. You’re both on the couch, him with an iPad going over some data and you with your feet up on his lap researching shelters on your phone. The domesticity of it all was frustrating.

“Are you allergic to dogs?” you ask. You know about Jimmy and Sassy back in Monaco, and he really doesn’t seem like dog person at all, but his opinion on this matters to you. His opinion on the most mundane and trivial things now matter to you. He doesn’t pay rent and so he doesn’t get the final say on anything, but if it makes life easier in Milton Keynes, you want to know what he thinks.

“No, I just prefer cats.” You nod, scrolling through the shelter’s website, looking at dogs and trying to decide which one looks like it needs love the most. “Lewis knows a lot about dogs, you can ask him about it.” It’s hard to get the sentence out, because Lewis having a say in something about your life just isn’t right. 

You shake your head no. “Lewis Hamilton doesn’t sleep in my spare bedroom.” It’s the same argument you make every time you suggest changing something in flat, and while it annoys him that you won’t take any money to pay for small stuff, it still makes him smile. 

“What do you think about this one?” you show him a picture of a Jack Russell Terrier, coincidentally named George. 

“If you get him you need to change his name.”

“Why?” You ask in fake offense. “I think he looks very much like a George.” But you move on anyway, terriers are too active for your lifestyle, you wouldn’t be able to give him the love he deserves. 

You keep on scrolling, feet still in his lap, him still looking through his iPad. You gasp suddenly, pushing yourself up and moving your legs so you can sit on them, much closer to Max. “Look!” you shove your screen in his face. “They just rescued a corgi with puppies! I love corgis!” He can see the excitement in your face and knows that he won’t ever say no to you if you look like that again. 

You pull your phone back, reading through the description quickly. “We are keeping Mama and puppies together for a few weeks to ensure health, puppies will be available for adoption in December. Please register interest.” You're pulling out your laptop to send an email when you're done.

Later that night, when you’re trying to sleep you admire how he let you rant about this dog that you’re getting. You love how he always indulges you on topics about your flat; you love that he’ll watch a shitty tv show with you and listen to you rant about the characters. You love that when you ask him questions about racing he answers with so much sincerity and interest that you can’t help but want to know more. You love so much about him that you think you might love him. 

No, you know you love him.

><

That’s how you got here, with Max at a shelter picking up a tiny corgi. Max has been carrying the collar and leash and necessary paperwork as you play with the small dog, contagious laughter falling from your lips.

“Think I should name him Charles, what do you think?” You look up from the ground, eyes so bright and happy. The smile on your face is teasing, but he misses the name because it hits him.

He’s in love with you.

He’s unable to answer you with his sudden realization, because the only words he can think of are “I love you” or long strings of curse words. 

You think he doesn’t like your joke and try to back track right away. “I’m kidding, obviously. I’m not gonna name him Charles.” Still Max only stares. “Is everything okay?” You stand up, still holding the puppy in your hands. “I promise I’m not going to name him Charles, but I’m sorry for the joke.” The puppy barks in your arms, snapping Max out of his trance. “What do you need, little one?” You ask the dog, momentarily forgetting Max’s presence. That’s what he needs, just a few seconds of you not looking at him to get his thoughts in line. He can’t be in love with you, because you don’t need a boyfriend. Just friends. 

Except he can be in love with you. Because you make him smile all the time, because you offered your spare bedroom to him so he didn’t have to deal with a shitty hotel mattress, because you send him pictures of cats you meet on the street, and let him over explain when you have questions about races. You deal with his mood swings when Jos contacts him. (It’s more than just dealing. You comfort and distract and do anything he needs.)

And maybe you do need just a friend still, but he can still love you.

It takes 20 minutes for you to finish up the paperwork for the shelter, which Max spends playing with the dog and he decides maybe he could be a your dog person. 

The ride back to your place is short, your minds replaying the same moment when you asked him what you should name the little puppy sleeping in the back. You feel bad, like you've insulted him; he’s trying to come up with a way to tell you what he’s realized.

Nothing happens that night, and nothing happens when he leaves for Monaco the next morning. 

Texts between the two of you comprise of pictures of Denny the corgi, Jimmy and Sassy the cats, and updates on how people liked their presents. It feels off, but you have no idea how to make it feel right.

On December 30th, you plan to catch your flight to Nice, but your father gets into an accident and you can’t leave your mom to deal with everything on your own. You say sorry to Max repeatedly, tell him to wish everyone there a Happy New Year and focus back on the quiet life with Denny. 

On December 31st, you wake up to the smell of coffee and toast. It’s alarming because no one else is here, so why does it smell like breakfast?

You push open the door cautiously, forgetting for a moment that Denny is there, so he sneaks out the tiny crack. “Denny! No!” you whisper-shout, hurrying after the little guy, all regard for your own safety lost. You find him in the arms of Max, licking his face and wiggling his butt with untamed excitement. “Max?”

“Hi, schatje.” His smile is almost enough to distract you from the fact that he is here. You approach the two slowly, grabbing Denny from his arms to put him down. 

“What are you doing here?” Denny paws at you, reminding you that he needs to go out and do his business. 

Max ignores your question, instead pushing a mug of coffee into your hands. “Take this, I’ll take Denny outside.” He grabs Denny from the floor again, making his way to the front where you have his leash hanging up. “Be right back, schatje.” You can only nod at him, watching the two walk out of the front door.

They’re back in two minutes, enough time for you to put out Denny’s breakfast and drink some of your coffee in peace, trying to wrap your mind around the fact that Max is here. The door opens and Denny comes rushing in, Max close behind. He hangs up the leash with his keys, then turns back to you with a smile.

Max takes his own mug, leaning his back against the counter to watch you. “Why are you here?” you ask again. 

“You said you couldn’t come to Monaco for New Year’s, so I thought I’d come here.” He says it so casually it irritates you. “Plus, I can take some work off of you or your mom when dealing with your Dad.”

Oh, he’s being sweet. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, but I want to help someone I love.” He says that so casually it catches you off guard. Thank god you didn’t have anything in your mouth or you would have definitely spit it out.

He smirks over his cup, watching you splutter for an answer to his simple confession. “You… you love me?” He nods then puts his mug down. A few steps over to you and he grabs the one in your hands, putting that down next to his own. With his other hand he moves to cup the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him. You want to ask what he’s doing, try to stop this before it can even start, but Max is determined. (You’re grateful for that.)

There’s almost no space left between the two of you, just enough really for him to be able to look at your face while he asks if this is okay. A gulp, a breath, and a nod later he’s dipping his head down to yours, closing the distance, and kissing you. 

Your eyes close instantly. Your hands travel to their own accord, reaching up to lock around his neck and keep him close. Your ears ring for some odd reason and your nose can only smell coffee. You can taste red bull on his lips and you wonder how long he's been up.

The kiss is soft and slow and over before you really have a chance to appreciate it.

You open your eyes to see him, his lips spread in a wide smile that has you blushing. “Been waiting to do that for a while.” That has you blush even deeper, but he doesn’t let you dip your head to hide it. “Seriously, schatje. I love you.”

“I love you too.” It’s a whisper, but he doesn’t miss it with how close you are. But even if he had missed it, you’ll say it so many more times in the future that people get sick of it.

[gremlingottoosilly]

Tourist/On Visa Reader thinking it's part of the culture for them to be touchy because of König

You don't understand why people always say that Austrians are unfriendly - you met this funny, but a bit weird Austrian guy, and he is so touchy and active towards you, you'd think he is Italian or something! He was a bit quiet at first, when you met at some pub at Vienna - you wanted to go where locals go, having no desire to be like a normal, obnoxious tourist - you're going to the weird places, rare places, to something that you never seen on social media before. The guy has funny English - a bit of an accent makes it sound higher than normal, that boyish tone as he asks what you're doing here. He has a hand on your thigh almost immediately - it comes naturally, even the way he fights with the end of your shirt feels...normal. He has big hands, and you're a bit drunk and a bit of a sucker for hands like this, so you allow him to put them here. He says it's a cultural thing - something from the culture of the Salzburg mountains and how close people are to each other. It doesn't sound quite right, but you're too drunk on culture to care. He talks about his country and his job - something like a soldier, he says, and you salute him a bit sluggishly. He gently wraps his fingers around yours to make you salute properly - and you almost fall into his lap because of how careful he is. He handles you like fine china, like a really precious piece of equipment, and you kinda like it. He feels a bit awkward, still; sometimes, he would squeeze your leg a bit too tight and only let go when you whimper - you think he might be nervous about the whole changing into a different language thing. He asks where you're staying, and you tell him about a bit shitty hostel you got a room in - because you wanted to live like a local without being harassed by creepy Airbnb hosts. He asks if you want him to drive you to it - it's pretty late, and you don't really know the transport system yet. You thought he was too drunk to drive, but he didn't touch a single alcohol drop whole evening - he was just ordering you drinks, from beer to heavy liquor, constantly talking about how you have to try it if you really want to check out the culture. You want to trust him - so you smile at him as he pays for your tab and drives you. You don't recognize the area, but it's because you're a tourist, the first time in the city - he probably knows the roads far better. When you realise it's not even remotely close to your hostel, he is already dragging you in. It must be a cultural thing, too.

[vampire-kiing]

Huskerdust Headcanons!

(Warning brings up panic attacks and hinted abuse!!)

Angel used to say things about Husk in Italian to himself like "Dio, sta così bene" or "Vorrei che mi inchiodasse al bar in questo momento" tell Husk responded back one day after they started dating "Forse più tardi, tesoro"

Husk taught Angel how to play black-jack one rainy day in bed

Whenever Angel's having a panic attack about Val or other shitty things that happened, if Angel signals its okay for Husk to touch him he lays his head on Angel's lap and sitting and purrs, Husk knows he starts to calm down when he feels little pets on his head (ofc nuggs is right next to Husk helping btw)

If Angel asks Husk to paint his nails he'll put all his focus into getting them perfect

On their first date Husk didn't know what to do but he surprised Angel with flowers at the door, when Angel started crying needless to say Husk thought he fucked anything up, Angel was just really happy

Angel love's tracing the hearts on Husk with his fingers

After the first time Angel and Husk are intimate, Angel cries when be wakes up in the morning and Husk is still there sleeping next to him

Angel had a hard time saying "I love you" to Husk because of Val, so one night when Husk is laying on Angel's fluff and Angel's many hands scratching his face and he hears a soft quiet "I love you Husky.." Husk had never sat up faster in his life or death (Ofc he said it right back)

[stevieschrodinger]

So one day, I'll write this, but today is not that day.

Steve point blank would not go and work for his dad, he still took the money he was offered though. Argyle pitches a pizza place; Steve thinks, fuck it, and invests.

Jon does deliveries, Robin does the accounts, Nancy swings in once and a while and makes sure they're insured and up to code. Steve does whatever Argyle tells him on busy nights.

It does so good in little old Hawkins. It does so good they expand. Steve buys a run down diner. Steve knows how to cook, and Argyle has taught him how to cook large scale. Steve falls in love with the line cook gig.

The expansion is crazy, within five years Nancy becomes site manager for their 12 restaurants; they have diners, pizza joints, and one fancy Italian place that Steve has been inside of (Maybe) five times total. Robin is the company accountant, Jon still does deliveries, but now it's more logistics and stock management; if a location is stuck for something Jon is the guy they call.

It's all successful enough that Steve just...stops being involved. Nancy is pretty much running the show, he can just...be paid his CEO salary, and take the midweek nightshifts that no one wants. He loves that Diner; it was the first one they opened and it has a special place in his heart.

He loves the quiet of the night shifts, just him and his grill plate and the slow but steady orders for the lonely people who can't sleep, just like Steve.

And then there's this new hire. This..kid, who granted is stupid pretty, but he's all long sharp limbs and clumsy pointy joints and he smashes like, three things on just the first night and Steve is gritting his teeth because his quiet serenity has been disturbed ...because this kid will not shut up.

He has no idea Steve actually owns the company, but that doesn't stop him apologising every thirty seconds for one thing or another. If he's not apologising he's talking about his nerd games, or music, or asking Steve what he's into, not loosing any steam at all of Steve doesn't even answer. Eventually, Steve growls at him to shut it for a bit. And the kid just kind of. Droops.

And Steve feels pretty shitty, and that same night a rowdy bunch of kids come in and even from behind the pass, Steve can see that Eddie Does Not Want To Serve Them.

But he does. It's his job.

And Steve can hear these kids calling Eddie ta freak or whatever. And Steve is not having that; he throws the kids out by the scruff of their necks and tells them to never come back again.

And Eddie's just looking at Steve with his big pretty brown eyes like Steve's an actual Hero. And yeah. Steve has a.problem.

They definitely fuck about it in a supply cupboard or a bathroom or something at some point. Maybe in the pantry and Robin pulls a face about kitchen hygiene. Or something.

Maybe I'll make it A/B/O and put Eddie in a cute little uniform, just to really stress Steve out.

[itoshiexx]

can i dance with your s/o?

how the blue lock boys react when someone asks to dance with you.

pairings: itoshi rin, itoshi sae, reo mikage x fem!reader (separate) | warnings: jealousy, slight possessiveness, overall fluff, teeny bit suggestive on sae's

notes: hi guys! i wasn't planing on posting anything since i haven't been able to write (studying for the bar and all), but since i reached 300 followers, i thought maybe i could post this lil thing that was in my drafts for a long time lol it's quite different from what i usually do but i hope y'all like it! and tysm for 300!! <3

Itoshi Rin

the lights of the room flickered around the sparkles in your long dress and practically made you glow. the piece of clothing was beautiful — an italian design rin bought for you specially for that night, where you would accompany him to a charity event. there were hundreds of football players like him in the venue, but rin’s sight could only focus on you. 

a song was playing softly in the background, and he admired you from afar, sitting in the bar along with some of his teammates while you chatted with their girlfriends, who became your friends pretty quickly. that was just how you were, always easy going and approachable, very unlike him. it was easy to be drawn to you like you were the sun, and rin was more than happy to be in your orbit.

then, the song changed to a slow paced tune, and he saw your beautiful eyes turn to him and sparkle just as much as your dress — if not more. the girls you were chatting with came towards their respective boyfriends, but you remained there, just staring, as if knowing it was a lost cause. 

itoshi rin didn’t like to dance. 

and while he was distracted by your orbs, someone decided to talk.

“can i dance with your girlfriend?”

the voice sent chills down his spine, and rin turned to the owner with a harsh glare, scrutinizing the image of none other than itoshi sae. they still had a pretty fucked up relationship, even after rin went pro, and he was not happy to hear what he just heard.

“what the fuck did you say?” his tone came out slowly, a veiled threat.

sae didn’t even blink. “i asked to dance with your girlfriend. you are certainly not doing it, and since i didn’t come with anyone, it would be rude to leave her there. haven’t you learned shit, rin?”

a vein nearly popped in his forehead. it was already bad enough to hear the condescending tone in sae’s voice, but implying he could take better care of you than him? no, that wouldn’t do.

“fuck off, you shitty brother. don’t come near her.”

he stormed off to the dance floor, leaving his shitty brother and his knowing smirk behind, immediately going to your figure. he could tell you were confused, but gave you no time to ask, taking your soft hand in his and dragging you to where the other couples were dancing.

both of his hands found home in your waist, just like he always found home in you. your arms laced his neck by pure reflex, considering you were still very much confused with your boyfriend’s attitude. 

“what happened?”

rin played dumb. “hm? what do you mean? i’m just dancing with my girlfriend.” he shrugged like it was no big deal. 

it really wasn’t. not when you smiled at him like that.

sure, itoshi rin didn’t like to dance. but he loved you, and if dancing would make you happy and keep you away from his shitty brother, he would do it in a heartbeat.

Itoshi Sae

parties were not really sae’s thing. he wasn’t one to socialize with his teammates, and he didn’t feel the need to talk to sponsors or to the media, considering he had a manager to do that. so how he got caught up in one was a true mystery. 

sure, playing for the U-20 national team could be a big deal for a lot of people, but not for sae. he hated japan and all its weak players, and the only reason he agreed to play in the first place was to see project Blue Lock firsthand. he definitely did not sign for a party.

though he supposed he could endure it if you were there. 

the dance floor was crowded, and a pop hit was blasting through the speakers. you were with sae on the bar just a minute ago, but your already tipsy self exclaimed to love this song and the need to dance it, so that’s what you were doing. and fuck, what a sight you were. 

your skimpy dress hugged your body in all the right places, marking the curve of your ass. every time you moved in sync with the beat, swaying your hips, he could feel his breath hitch in his throat, always eager for what was under the fabric. you were breathtaking, and his. 

“hey, genius boy!”

sae grunted when his eyes were forced to leave your frame, and he was not pleased to find oliver aiku by his side, portraying his signature toothy grin. his only acknowledgement was a hum, hoping oliver would take a hint and leave him the fuck alone. 

“nice night, huh?”

sae sighed. apparently, he can’t take a hint.

“sure,” was all he said, turning his eyes back to you. you were still having fun by dancing like there was no tomorrow, and for a moment, sae wanted to smile from the way you were so carefree. he didn’t, though. but maybe something in his stoic demeanor cracked by looking at you, because the guy next to him spoke up.

“whatcha looking at?” oliver followed his sight before sae could fool him, and he felt anger rising when spotting a glimpse of desire in the heterochromatic eyes of his teammate. “oh, wow. what a babe.”

sae narrowed his eyes with an impossibly harsh glare that could make anyone cower. oliver didn’t. “she’s my girlfriend, so back the fuck off.”

“oh! can i dance with your girlfriend? she seems lonely.” the player smirked, seemingly enjoying to tease sae.

“look,” the older itoshi started, unamused. “you should probably know by now that i don’t tolerate bullshit. especially when it comes to her.”

oliver cocked his brow. sae continued, “so if you wanna have a slight chance to win against Blue Lock and not lose your shitty spot in the U-20 team, don’t fucking test me.”

finally, the player raised his hands in surrender, leaving without saying another word. chugging down the rest of his drink, sae made his way towards you, gluing his body behind yours and securing you close with a hand on your waist.

“hey, baby,” he mumbled in your ear. “wanna get out of here?”

Mikage Reo

being the heir of a billionaire corporation was no easy task. although there were some good parts in it, such as the money to do whatever one pleased, reo mostly dreaded everything related to his position. of course, this included the galas thrown by his family. 

these galas were always full of snobby CEO’s and their heirs, trying to secure their spot in the light by arranging a marriage with the Mikage’s son. this part, at least, was solved when reo finally got married to you, and of course enduring hours of these boring parties became a hundred times better with you by his side. 

however, he couldn’t say he was exactly pleased with the way all eyes were on you every time you put on some high couture outfit. you were stunning — reo knew that much, and he always boasted to anyone who could hear about it —, but he couldn’t help the spark of possessiveness that always ignited inside his chest whenever someone else stated this fact. 

such as the old man talking to him. 

“your wife is truly beautiful, mikage. a hidden gem.”

reo could feel his anger rising, jealousy and overprotectiveness becoming one. but he remained calm on the outside, a smiley façade that could effortlessly fool those around him. he couldn’t be rude, considering this geezer was one of the main investors of the mikage corporation. 

“indeed, she is,” he answered through his teeth. the man didn’t seem to notice his gleaming eyes that could very much be homicidal. 

“how long have you been married again?”

“two years.” he took a sip of the champagne glass in his hands. the liquid went down his throat with a burning sensation that made him momentarily forget about the searing rage in the pit of his stomach. 

“oh, to be young again. i wish i could go back and enjoy my youth a little more,” the investor laughed, and reo had to force himself to do the same. his eyes, however, didn’t leave your frame. 

you were graciously talking with three women of high society, distributing kind smiles as if they weren’t as precious as the diamonds in your neck, if not more. reo was well aware that none of the people on that gala deserved the goodness of your heart, but you couldn’t help but be sympathetic towards everyone. maybe that was why you were so adored. he knew for certain it was one of the reasons he loved you so much. 

“do you mind if i dance one song with her?”

fuck. that man was still there. 

“sure,” albeit hesitantly, reo agreed with a forced smile, watching as the investor walked up to you and bowed to ask for a dance. with your usual gentleness, you agreed, taking his hand and going to the middle of the ballroom for a waltz. the mikage could only watch your ethereal form glowing under the candelabrum, eyes softening with the way you were so carefree.

he was glad to have your purity in such a corrupted world.

when the song ended, reo wasted no time in coming to you and taking your hand from the man with a gentlemanly gesture that made you smile. you bid farewell to the investor with a small courtesy, your hand finding your husband’s easily. 

“hey, beautiful.”

“hey, handsome,” you whispered, eyes sparkling. “you were totally holding yourself back, weren’t you?”

you both laughed at the way you could read him so easily. though reo didn’t mind.

“hell, yes. i was dying to drag you back to my arms.”

it was where you belonged, anyway.

© 2023 itoshiexx. do not plagarise, translate, or repost any of my work on here or other sites.

[morgana-larkin]

I love your stories! Can you write one where Melissa and the reader are really good friends and Mel realizes the reader takes care of her in a way Joe or Gary never did. R helps her to cook, to clean, really listen to her… And then Melissa finally lets te reader fully take care of her one night. Please with a bottom Mel and a strap on to make everything better! Thank you ❤️

Hi! I’m so happy you’re loving my stories. I thought this prompt was so cute. While I see Mel as more of a top, I wrote it where she allows reader to top her for one time. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: I got a cute Chessy one next with a cooking lesson involved. So stay on the lookout for that!

Allow Me

Warnings: smut, bottom Mel, top reader, lotta fluff

Words: 3.1k

“Hey Lissa.” You tell her and sit down next to her in the break room and she looks up at you and forces a smile.

“Hey hon.” She says with a sigh.

“What’s wrong?” You ask her and she sighs again. She then goes on to explain what was bothering her and like always you listen carefully and closely to her. Knowing her for 2 years means you know when she wants advice and just someone to listen to her. Today it was the latter.

“So we still on for tomorrow or did you want to cancel?” You ask her.

“Of course we’re still on, why wouldn’t we be?”

“Didn’t know if you wanted to be alone this weekend.” You tell her gently.

“Hon, the last thing I want is to be alone.” She says and she realises she’ll be alone on Sunday.

“Do you want me to come over on Sunday too?” You ask her.

“Only if you want.” She tells you, trying not to let the fact that she does want you over but doesn’t want to inconvenience you.

“I’ll always be up to come see you.” You tell her and she smiles and blushes. Every Saturday, you come over and you both cook a meal together. Being Italian, Melissa at first didn’t let you help and did it all herself but then she slowly got you to do small things and now you do half each. Saturday was both you and Melissa’s favourite day of the week. It was not just because it was the weekend, but because you got to spend time alone together.

On Saturday you show up an hour early like always. You once told her you were out and if she allowed, you could be there an hour early since you were near her house. She accepted and now you always show up early.

“Hey y/n!” She greets you and allows you in. You walk inside and hand her the bottle of wine you got this time.

“You got my favourite?” She asks and you nod.

“Figured you could use the pick-me-up with the shitty week you had.” You tell her and she looks at you with glossy eyes.

“You didn’t have too, seeing you is already cheering me up.” She tells you and you blush. You’re aware of your crush on her, you’ve been aware for a year now. You feel butterflies every time she gives you a compliment or looks at you. The only reason you haven’t told her is because she was with Gary and now it seems she’s hooking up with the fire chief. You’re no firefighter and not a man either so you think you don’t have a chance with her.

You get to work on the meal and you see Melissa keeps glancing at you. “What?” You ask.

“Nothing, just, I notice how you help take care of me, you know. How you always listen to listen to me when I need to vent, or helping me cook and you always help with the clean up after. Joe and Gary never helped the way you do. It doesn’t go unnoticed.” She tells you and you look down and continue shopping up the peppers.

“It’s not a problem, it’s nothing.” You tell her with a shrug. She stops what she’s doing and walks over to you. She takes the knife from you and sets it down on the counter and grabs your hands and gets you to turn to face her.

“It’s not nothing hon. I really do appreciate it.” She tells you.

“Lissa, you were never taken care of the way you should have been. You should have been treated like the queen you are.” You tell her and she looks at you with adoration in her eyes.

“You always say the sweetest things to me y/n.” She tells you and you smile at her. She cups your cheek and you look at her surprised. The timer from the oven startles you both and you jump. You go back to what you were doing, your mind swirling with the thought that you almost kissed her and that would have ruined the friendship you two have. You got so distracted by your thoughts that you didn’t notice the looks that Melissa keeps giving you.

In Melissa’s mind, similar thoughts are swirling around. She almost kissed you right then and there. She has no idea whether you’re interested in her or not. She figured out that she has feelings for you about 5 months ago, 2 months after she broke up with Gary. She started hooking up with the fire chief to try and get her mind off of you but the more she hooked up with him, the more she wished it was you she was having sex with. She called it off with him about a month ago and she didn’t tell anyone. The only one who knew was Jacob as their roommates and she made him swear not to tell anyone.

Jacob comes home when you two are just about done cooking and comes in the kitchen. “Hey you two.” He says, he knows you come over every Saturday evening. He likes to go out and give you guys some privacy in the hopes that one of you will confess their feelings for the other. But so far that hasn’t happened.

“Hey Jacob, how was your date?” You ask him.

“It was good. Did I miss anything interesting?” He asks and you shake your head.

“I don’t know why you ask that everytime. Makes me wonder what you think we’re doing here.” You joke with him and Melissa snorts. Melissa is at the stove finishing up the cooking while you started on the dishes.

Melissa knows why he always asks, she questioned him about it a couple months ago and he told her. Melissa denied any possible evidence that you like her back that Jacob told her.

The 3 of you sit down and have supper and talk about anything that comes to mind. Then after you and Melissa do the dishes together while Jacob gets a show ready. You all watch desperate housewives and Jacob always makes sure to sit on the side so you two sit together. You end up falling asleep on Melissa and she stops breathing for a second. Jacob glances over at you and Melissa then gives her a look, she glares at him and he looks back to the tv with a smirk. She wraps her arm around you and pulls you closer and then adjusts the blanket that you’re sharing as it fell off of you a bit.

After the show, Jacob goes to his room and leaves Melissa alone with you sleeping on her. Melissa gently shakes you awake and you stir and slowly wake up.

“Hey hon. You fell asleep, are you ok to drive home?” She asks you and she can tell you’re not fully aware of what she said. But you still nod nonetheless and you stand up. You go to get your things but she stops you when she sees how sleepy you are. “Hon, why don’t you just stay the night? You seem like you might fall asleep at the wheel and you’ll be back here tomorrow anyway.” She tells you and you look at her.

“Your couch isn’t comfortable to sleep on with the plastic for longer periods. So I’ll just go home.” You tell her and she is worried you might fall asleep at the wheel.

“Then sleep in my bed with me. I have a queen so it’s big enough for 2 people.” She tells you and you freeze. Did she really just offer that you sleep next to each other?

“Are you sure?” You ask her and she nods. “Ok then.” You agree to her offer and she smiles.

And she’s glad that she offered as you stumble upstairs and you immediately fall asleep before getting ready for bed. Melissa gets you more on the bed as you fell asleep at the foot of the bed and then tucks you in. She gets ready for bed and then gets under the covers with you. She looks at your sleeping form and can’t help but place a kiss on your forehead. “Good night y/n.” She whispers and turns off her lamp. You both wake up to cuddling each other and then pull away from each other when you realise it. “Um, if you want I can give you some clothes to wear or if you want to go home and change and then come back here, you can do that too.” Melissa says, avoiding what just happened.

“If you don’t mind providing an outfit, I would appreciate that.” You tell her and she smiles.

“Ya I think I have something that’s your style and that’ll fit you.” She says softly and gets up and goes to her closet. It’s then that you get a look at her and your brain stops. She’s just there in a light shirt and short shorts as pjs, and you can tell she’s not wearing a bra. She walks back and hands you the clothes and you take it from her with a ‘thank you’. When you take them from her, you’re in perfect view of her cleavage and you think you saw the outline of her breasts through the shirt. Melissa caught you staring and she smiles. She went with the lightest shirt she has and the shortest shorts as well, hoping she’d catch your attention.

Your not fully awake brain yet thought it’d be ok to just change where you are and you take your top off. Only then realising that you’re just there in a bra and Melissa is staring right at you, mouth open and eyes wide. You just decide to fuck it and keep going. You take your pants off as well and Melissa breaks. She walks over to where you are, grabs the back of your head and kisses you. It takes you a second for your brain to catch up and when it does, you kiss her back.

She puts her hands on your hips and you put yours around her neck. She pushes you back and you walk into the nightstand. She goes down and kisses your neck and sucks on it. She goes to unclip your bra but then you push her down to the bed. She’s sitting at the edge of the bed and you straddle her hips and kiss her again. She goes to unclip your bra and you let her this time. You let it fall off of you and give her time to get a look at you and she smiles. You then pull her shirt off and you look at her. You look at her eyes and then remember what she said yesterday, that no one took care of her. You pin her shoulders down and she looks up at you.

“Hon, what are you doing?” She asks, she’s not used to being the one not in control, she’s usually the top.

“I’m going to make you feel good Lissa, and you’re going to let me take care of you.” You tell her and she looks at you with wide eyes. She thinks it over for a few seconds and then she nods. You smile and then you go for her neck. She moans at you sucking on her neck. You then leave a trail of kisses to in between her breasts and then you put a nipple in your mouth.

“Oh my god.” She gasps out, she feels slightly guilty that she knows Jacob is gonna hear her have sex again. Then you suck on her nipple again and the guilt flies out the window, as well as the thought. You suck and swirl your tongue around her nipple and your fingers play with the other one. She moans at the sensation and you put your mouth around the other one and do the same thing. She bucks her hips at you and you smile. You’re glad she’s enjoying this and you're going to prolong it too. You’re not going to rush it like most of the guys she’s been with probably did. You pull back from her nipples and then you go up to an ear and gently nibble on it and she hums, you do the same thing with her other ear and you get the same reaction. You kiss her lips and her hands go to your thighs and trails up but you stop her.

“I told you that I’m going to make you feel good, not the other way around.” You tell her and pin her hands above her head. You know she can easily escape your hold as she’s stronger than you but she makes no attempts to escape. “Now, keep your hands there, hold the headboard if you have too.” You tell her and she looks at you confused.

“I’m on the edge of the bed.” She tells you and you let her move up on the bed and place her head on a pillow.

You then lean down and place kisses on her thighs before pulling her shorts off. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” You say and you roam your eyes on her body. You place more kisses on her thighs and then one on her clit and she bucks her hips.

“Y/n! Please.” She whines out and you put your tongue on her clit and lick. She grabs the headboard for support, spreads her legs further apart and bends her knees to plant her feet flat on the bed. You then insert a finger in her and she gasps and then you add a second and she moans out loud enough that you’re sure Jacob heard. You start sliding them in and out of her and she starts breathing fast. You pull your tongue away from her clit and you lean closer to her.

“Do you have a strap?” You ask her while still fingering her. She nods and taps the nightstand. You open the drawer and you grab the strap and dildo that’s in there. You then pull your fingers out of her and she looks at you in shock before she sees that you’re taking your pants off then putting on the strap on. You crawl on top of her and kiss her lips. You put your hand between her legs and rub her clit. She bucks her hips and gasps into the kiss. You then remove your hand and slowly slide the tip of the strap in her entrance. She gasps and breaks the kiss. You then start kissing her neck and slide it in further. You then slide it all the way in and she gasps. “You ok?” You ask her and she nods. You then start moving slowly, you’re on your hands and knees on top of her and moving the strap in and out of her.

“Faster, please go faster.” She tells you and you obey. You might be the top but you want her to feel good and if that means going faster, then you’ll go faster. You go faster and she wraps her legs around you. You take her hands and interlace your fingers with hers. You continue to place kisses on her neck and she starts breathing hard and fast. The strap was rubbing your clit and you start to feel the build up too. You take one of your hands and go and rub her clit. She moans out and her legs start to shake. “OMG! I’m close, I’m so close.” She says and then she comes. You don’t stop though, you just continue going as if she didn’t and she grabs your hair with your free hand. You can tell the sensitivity is getting to her a bit.

“It’s ok Mel, take your time. I’m right here with you and I’m not going anywhere.” You tell her and kiss her forehead, you slow down on her clit a bit and her next orgasm is approaching. You’re holding yours in, you want her to come again before you do. Her legs start to shake again and then her orgasm crashes through her. You come right after her and you go to pull out but she stops you.

“No, keep going, please.” She tells you and you do. Her third orgasm hits and she screams out. “Ok, I can’t take anymore.” She says and you gently pull out of her. You take the strap off and then you run into the bathroom and come back out with a warm wet cloth and you clean her up. She thinks the warmness of it feels nice against her sensitive core. You’re so delicate when cleaning her up and she can’t believe how she got so lucky with you. She’s been the one taking care of people almost her whole life. And now she has someone who wants to take care of her and is very gentle with her. You finish cleaning her up and then you clean yourself up and bring the cloth back into the bathroom so it doesn’t leak on the floor. You come back and cuddle into her and let her body calm down.

After about half an hour of cuddling you both get dressed and go downstairs. You walk into the kitchen and Jacob is there sipping on a coffee and smirking.

“Good morning Jacob.” You tell him.

“It sounded like you guys are having a good one.” He teases and Melissa looks up at him and rolls her eyes.

“How much did you hear?” She asks him.

“Enough to know that you got satisfied more than you did with that fire chief you ended things with.” He says and you look at her.

“When did you end things with the fire chief?” You ask her and she glares at Jacob.

“About a month ago. When I realised I’d rather be with you.” She tells you and she hands you a cup of coffee along with a kiss. You sneakily grab her ass without Jacob seeing but her surprise yelp gives it away.

“Ok I’m leaving before I get more traumatised.” He says and leaves the kitchen.

Melissa will more than likely have to threaten him to make sure he doesn’t tell anyone what he heard but for now she just smiles at you and kisses you again.

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta

@imaginesmultifandoms

@idonothingalldays-blog

@sexysapphicshopowner

@dvrkhcld

@lilfartbox1

@ricejucie

@unicorniusfallapatorius

Let me know if you want to be added!