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monzabee · 2 years ago

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this is a relationship, that i don’t think anyone saw coming – cl16

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Summary: The one where you and Charles think you are successfully fooling everyone on the grid, when in reality you are the ones being fooled.

Pairing: charles leclerc x merc!driver!reader

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: cursing, kissing, hiding a relationship (and doing it very badly), smut elements! (in one of the scenes, nothing penetrative), idiots to lovers, sexism and racism in motorsports, pop culture references (bad and many of them).

Request: “Hello! Can I request a charles leclerc imagine where the reader is a f1 driver and they try to hide their relationship from the paddock, but everyone knows and in the end they just reveal it. Thanks xx” + “this is not a request, but, can you use a dialogue from one of your favourite tv shows/series?”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! the title comes from an episode of the kardashians, but it was very popular on tiktok for a while so here you go! the request for this one was so good, and i had so much fun writing this, so i hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as i do. the dialogue i used for the second request/promt is from season 1 episode 9 of suits, which is one of my absolute favourite tv series of all time (even though it has too many legal inaccuracies), and you can watch the scene from here. ALSO, because i can never choose one, i decided to use another dialogue from season 1 episode 18 of gilmore girls, and i think it is the best piece of television ever written, and you can watch it from here. there are a bunch of pop culture references in there, so if you can spot them, you are a star! thank you anons for your requests, and i hope you guys enjoy this one! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

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

Charles is not stupid, in fact, he prides himself in being smart. However, as one of his best friends are looking at him with an unamused glare, he suddenly fears that he might have been stupid when he was getting ready before arriving at the venue for the party tonight.

“You are not dressed,” Pierre drawls, “What are you wearing?”

“A suit?” Charles asks, confused as he looks at his friend’s attire. “What are you wearing?”

Pierre points to the outfit he’s wearing, which consists of brown pants with a linen shirt and a brown vest thrown over it, an annoyed look washes over his face as he explains, “I’m Indiana Jones, this is a costume party, Charles.”

“Why would you have a costume party when you’re turning 27?” Charles’ face scrunches up in even more confusion.

“Because it’s fun, and it’s my birthday.” Pierre rolls his eyes, “We have to do something about it; Kika, I need help!” He calls out to her girlfriend, who rushes into the room in a white dress and a very voluminous blonde wig.

“What’s wrong?” Kika asks, her eyes falling on Charles’ outfits as she groans disappointedly, “Who are you supposed to be?”

“I didn’t know!” Charles argues.

“Mate,” Pierre objects, “it was on the invitation; ‘Hollywood Icons’?”

“We can fix this,” Kika tries to offer Charles a supportive smile. “You could be… Patrick Bateman?”

Charles’ eyes widen with shock, “From ‘American Psycho’?”

“Morbid, Kiks,” Pierre shakes his head.

Kika shrugs, “He’s hot. What about Brad Pitt in ‘Mr. and Mrs. Smith’?”

“Does he even wear a suit in that one?” Pierre asks, still shaking his head in thought.

Kika lets out a loud groan, “James Bond!”

“That could work–” Charles start saying at the same time Pierre objects, “The suit is not sharp enough.”

“Then give him a tie, Pierre.” Kika frowns. “God, the two of you are like children, not even the girls had this much trouble, and the two of us almost matched.”

You’re shivering when you finally arrive at the venue thanks to the thin trench coat thrown over your costume. You link your arm with Lily, who is holding Alex’s hand and the two of them are dressed up as Jack and Rose. “Why are we doing this, again?”

“Because we like Pierre, he is nice.” Lily turns to Alex to let him fix her ginger wig for her as she replies to you.

“I don’t know, I think I want to go back to the hotel.” You mumble, your hands nervously playing with the belt of your coat.

“Just give it a try, Y/N,” Alex smiles at you. “We’ll take you back if you’re still feeling nervous.”

You nod your head with a sigh as you let Lily pull you in towards the entrance of the apartment building. You’re too busy admiring the Italian architecture when you hear a squeal. “You guys made it!” Alex excuses himself to go greet some of the other drivers and you smile at Kika as she pulls you and Lily in for a hug at the same time as she chants, “I’m dying to see your guys’ costumes, show me, show me!”

You laugh softly as you take of your coat, pulling gasps from both of the girls looking over your outfit. “You both knew what my costume was going to be!” You whine, holding your coat close to your body.

“I didn’t know it was going to be –” Lily starts, looking at Kika for help.

“Tight,” Kika clears her throat, “it’s very tight, and your body looks amazing!”

“You’re literally a model, Kiks,” you mumble, “can we please focus on Lily and how historically accurate her costume is? Not to mention yours, I mean, Marilyn?”

“You look amazing, Lily.” Kika agrees, giving her a warm smile. “And thank you, Y/N.”

“Thank you, Kika,” she turns to you, “thank you, Y/N. I’m going to find Alex, meet you at the bar?”

“Sure, see you.” You tell her, smiling as she starts to walk towards the crowd.

“Let me take your coat,” Kika leans over you. “You should grab a drink before more people arrive, Pierre made sure to invite half of the city, it seems like.”

You thank her before she leaves to hang your coat, taking a deep breath as you start moving between dancing people, some of whom greet you as you make your way towards the bar. You give the bar tender a tight smile as you order yourself a gin and tonic, strawberry, of course. The first thing Charles notices about you is your hair, having memorised all the different tones mixed between your locks. His eyes travels down your body, his eyes linger particularly on your dress; the white bodice is connected to the tie dye skirt by a metal circle, and it is oh so tight, accentuating all your curves in the best way possible. His legs start to move towards you in their own volition when his eyes reach the leather thigh-high boots, his voice is thick as he approach you from your right. “Y/N.”

You look at him with your lips parted in shock, your voice coming out in a low breath. “Charles, you’re here.” You let him take one of your hands into his as you lock eyes with him. “I thought you were going to be in Monaco.”

“I was already in Italy for the car testing.” He explains, his fingers gently caress your inner wrist. “I’ve missed you. Were you back at home?”

“I’ve missed you too,” a smile takes over your face, “yes, I’m trying to get used to changing cities.”

“I’ll give you a private tour when we go back.” He offers, eliciting a giggle from you as you reach for your drink and take a sip from the straw. His breath hitches for a moment when he focuses too much on the way your red-painted lips close around the plastic, but he’s quick to shake it off. “Did you see the pictures on Twitter?”

“The ones with Frédéric?” You ask him and he nods in return. The pictures he is referring to being his new team principle giving your four-year-old niece some daisies. There is a teasing smile on your lips as you say, “Don’t worry, Charles, I’m not coming for a Ferrari seat. He was just giving Cecily some flowers when we were passing by.”

“I wish you would’ve brought her into the garage, I’ve missed her.” The pout he’s sporting lets you know that he is being genuine and not putting on a show for your attention.

“You know I couldn’t, I had to get back to my own garage before the race.” The emphasis you use makes him roll his eyes as his fingers occupy themselves with the stacked bracelets on your wrist. “Who are you supposed to be, anyway?”

“James Bond.” He replies in an unattached voice, exhaling a deep breath. “I didn’t realise it was a costume party.”

“Charles,” you laugh, head tilted to the side as you keep holding his gaze, “it was on the invitation, darling.”

He groans, “I know that, now. Pierre was not impressed when I first showed up.”

“I can imagine.” You agree in a sympathetic voice. “Maybe we should’ve thought of something before you left last week.”

“Oh, yeah, like what? Vivian?” He smirks, his eyes going over your body once more, but without any shame this time. “Do you have any idea how great you look?”

“It was the last movie we watched.” You shrug, a coy smile on your lips. “Maybe you could’ve been a ballerina, like Natalie Portman, in ‘Black Swan’.”

He lets out a hearty laugh. “Oh please, you know how good my legs would look in tights compared to yours.”

“Oh, chéri,” You tut, stepping closer to him as you rake your fingers down on his tie. “You couldn’t if you tried.”

“I would crush you.” He challenges as he lifts an eyebrow.

You shake your head. “You wouldn’t touch me.”

“Why not?” He asks, amused.

You shrug in a nonchalant manner. “Because you'd be too busy staring at me in tights.”

“No I wouldn’t,” Charles argues, shaking his head slightly.

“You’re doing it right now.” You sing in a light voice.

“You’re not wearing any.” He points out, his hands moving to rest on the bare skin of your waist, curtesy of the cut-outs your dress provides.

You tug on his tie to draw him closer to you, his lips lingering near his ear as you whisper, “I’m not wearing any underwear.”

He is left speechless when you let him go, grab your drink and start walking towards your teammate, making sure to add an extra sway to your hips because you know Charles is watching you to confirm what you’ve just told him.

You have a secret, and it’s big – big, huge. And it has something to do with the Monegasque laying beneath you. Charles talks about the last few days he spent at the Ferrari factory as you listen to him, your eyes focused on the way his face moves through various expressions when he talks about the car. Your chin is placed on your hands which are placed together on his chest, giving you the perfect view of his face. His fingers are moving on the bare skin on your back, the white bed sheet pulled up only enough to cover the globe of your ass. Although you try your best to keep up with his stream of consciousness, humming where accurate and asking him questions here and there, but Charles can see the sleepy look in your eyes through your hooded eyes.

“Are you okay, mon soleil?” He asks, his chest rumbling with his voice underneath your hands.

“Sleepy,” you mumble, leaning up against him to bury your face against the side of his neck, “you’re warm, though.”

He pulls the sheet up your body; interpreting the way you shiver as you being cold, when the actual reason is the pleasure the skin to skin contact brings. “You can go back to sleep; we still have some time.” The incoherent mumbles leaving your lips makes him chuckle, which in return makes you smile against him. Your fingers trace over the edge of his five o’clock shadow, and you suddenly find yourself thanking whatever deity is up there that he forgot to shave because of all the commotion of travelling over the past few days. “What did you just say?”

“It’s just funny that you tell me I should sleep after you’ve kept me up the entire night, darling.” Your breathy chuckle hits the side of his neck as he lets out a chuckle of his own.

“I didn’t hear you complaining at any point,” he raises one of his brows, earning him a pat against his chest and you making yourself rise enough to glare at him.

You try your best to frown at him, locking your gaze with his, as you can feel the heat starting to rise up to your face at the mention of your not so innocent activities of last night. “You’re incorrigible, Charles.”

“Oh, chérie,” he coos, brushing the pad of his thumb over the swell of your cupids-bow. You’re about to give in and give him a kiss when he rises up, himself, with a frown and you in his arms.

“What’s wrong?” You ask in a worried voice, following his line of vision to your closed bedroom door.

“Does anyone else have your keys?” Charles asks, “I heard the front door open–”

Your eyes widen as you scramble to get off him, pulling the sheet up to cover your nakedness. “Charles, hide!” You hiss, while trying to force him to move.

“Y/N?” You hear your assistant, Margo, yell through the house. “I got those thermal things you wanted!”

“One second, please!” You call back to her, looking at Charles with pleading eyes. Thankfully, he manages to hide underneath the sheets just before Margo barges into the room. Even more luckily, the duvet over the sheets ends up hiding his body seamlessly. “Hi, Margo.” You give her the best smile you can muster up under the situation, your hand still clutching the bedsheet on your chest with enough force to make your hand hurt.

“Oh my god, are you naked under there?” Margo babbles, a light blush covering her cheeks. “Since when do you sleep naked?”

“Um… I heard it’s good for your circulation?” You answer her in an unsure voice, causing Charles to tighten his hands on your thighs in warning, you have no idea how he managed to squeeze between them in the first place. “Thank you for the thermals, you’re an angel.”

“N-no problem.” She smiles at you nervously, obviously stressed because of the lack of clothes on your body for the sake of professionalism. “Toto wanted me to tell you that he is meeting up with Lewis for lunch later and asked me to ask you to join them if you were free.”

“Sure, do you know wh-when?” You stutter during the last word, feeling Charles’ fingers and breath coming closer to your center.

Margo checks her watch, then looks back up at you. “Around three, at that Italian place the team went out for dinner the last time.”

You nod in acknowledgement as you try the remember the exact location of the restaurant she mentioned, gasping because Charles decides to give your clit a little lick before taking it between his lips to gently suck on it. “I’ll be there!” You rush out, hands gripping the white sheet even tighter.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Margo asks while eyeing you up with worry, “Should I take you to a doctor, or something?”

“Oh no, I’m fine, honey.” You wave her off with a nervous chuckle. “I think it’s all in your – head!”

“Um.. okay. I’ll see you later, then.” Margo mumbles as she leaves your room with red cheeks.

You throw your head back in a groan over the awkward encounter, waiting until hearing the front door open and close before pulling the sheets back and glaring at the man between your thighs, who still has his mouth on you, by the way. “You are evil, Charles, pure evil! What were you thinking?”

He draws back slightly to raise a questioning brow. “Do you want me to stop?” However, he resumes his torture when you don’t answer him, looking up at you while grinning like the devil himself as he murmurs into your skin, “That’s what I thought.”

It’s hard, being a woman in the motorsport world, and especially in F1. While some may say it’s unprecedented, and you’d agree, you also think there’s going to be misogynistic pigs in any sector you might end up working in, so why not have some fun? The article comes out the day before the race, right before the qualifying session. You’re not the one to check your phone before going on track, but an urge to do so pokes at you when you realise people are giving you worried looks in the Mercedes garage. Your jaw tightens as you read through the article, fingers tightening around your phone as you read every single sexist comment being made about the way you dress, talk, and your entire F1 career and accomplishments being discredited just because of your gender. You’re absolutely fuming as you throw your phone onto the couch in your driver’s room and grab your helmet and balaclava as you walk briskly towards the garage.

Both Toto and Lewis look at you with surprised, but worried, looks as you announce, “Make me go out first.”

“Are you sure, Y/N?” Toto asks, sharing a worried glance with Lewis. “You usually wait for a while for other people to–.”

“No, I’m sure.” You tug on your balaclava as you add, “Make sure I’m on softs, please.”

The two men watch you walk off towards your car, Lewis mumbling, “Hell hath no fury like the woman scorned.” The Austrian turns to him, eyebrows raised, which causes him to roll his eyes. “Yes, Toto, I read.”

You’re a force to be reckoned with on track during qualifying. Although having not the best start to the season, you push your Mercedes to its absolute limits, managing to outpace even the Red Bulls, and constantly asking your engineer for another lap until Toto has to ask you to retire for the day – in long story short, you are the pole sitter for the Sunday’s race. There are four people waiting for you when you get out of your car, those four people being: Toto, Susie, Lewis and Mick – though you’re pretty sure the latter was dragged into this intervention because you’re usually unable to get angry next to the reserve driver.

“You were reckless out there, Y/N.” Toto frowns, crossing his arms over his chest (Mick copies his actions, nodding, as he does his best to give you a stern look).

“I drove the best I have in over a year,” you argue, “we are starting on P1 tomorrow because of my driving today.”

“I don’t care if we start P20, you know you shouldn’t have gone out there that angry!” Susie places a pacifying hand on your team principle’s arm when his voice gets higher.

“We know you were angry about the article,” Lewis starts, but you cut him off as you grumble,

“A very astute conversation, Lewis.” You snap, not allowing him to continue as you begin ranting, “He called me a ‘Malibu Barbie’, and suggested that I should find another career, do you know how disheartening that is?”

“They called me Ken once,” Mick mumbles with a small pout on his lips, quickly mumbling “sorry,” when you give him a scathing look.

“There will always be journalists who are against you and me,” Lewis goes on to remind you, “I told that before you signed, and before your first race.”

“I know, but–” You stop to swallow down a sob, tilting your head back to delay the tears which are threatening to come out. “They implied that I’ve slept my way up to where I am today,” you inhale a deep breath as your voice wavers, “I’m so tired of my accomplishments being reduced to this.”

“Men will always be afraid of women who have the ability to be better at their jobs than they are,” Susie smiles softly at you – soft, but not pitiful, you realise. “It doesn’t mean that we should give up, it means that we do our best to make sure they are proved wrong.”

“You could’ve hurt yourself and others today,” Toto shakes his head, “you almost collided with both of the Ferraris.”

Your entire break pauses at the mention of the red cars, mind quickly drifting to the owner of the eyes you love looking into, but you’re quick to snap yourself out, “Are they okay?”

“Both Carlos and Charles are fine,” Susie assures you.

“No more reckless driving,” Toto points a finger at you and then to Lewis, who raises his arms in surrender. “I mean it.” He pats you on the back before leaving, whispering a quick, “Good job today, kiddo.”

“Why do I get in trouble because of you?” Lewis wonders aloud, his hands on his hips.

“We haven’t been teammates for that long, Lewis.” You squint your eyes.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Mick asks with a concerned look on his face.

You nod in thought, pointed to both of them. “I will be, but I need both of your help.”

Mick gulps, voice tentative as he asks, “We’re not doing anything illegal, are we?”

After you’re done explaining your plan to your teammates, you say goodbye to both of them and make your way towards your driver’s room. Charles gets up, quickly, from the couch as you enter, shocked expressions on both of your faces. “H-how did you get in here?”

“I had to sneak in through the back,” he explains as he gets closer to you, hands quickly cup your cheek for his thumbs to swipe under your eyes. “Chérie, did you cry?”

“I- no!” You shake your head as you try to get him off. “I’m just- ugh, I’m just so angry!”

He lets you rant in his arms, eventually giving in and shedding a few tears of frustration, but he doesn’t comment until you’re done with your thoughts, and when he does comment, it is not to undermine your feelings. He takes you back to the hotel, and before the two of you leave your garage, he sneaks a soft kiss on your lips which has you melting in his arms. Unbeknown to you, Susie, Toto and Lewis watch the interaction from the other end of the corridor, with the latter murmuring, “Love is just a word until someone comes along and gives it meaning.” Lewis gives Toto a side-eye as the team principle looks at him with the same surprised look from before, “For the last time, man, I read!”

All the eyes in the car are on you, the next morning when you, Mick and Lewis arrive to the track in the same car. “You ready to leave?” Lewis asks you, looking at you from the rear-view mirror from the passenger seat; Mick drove to the track instead of you because you told them both there was no way you were driving with the heels you wore today.

“It’s now or never,” you mutter, subconsciously fixing your hair.

“Give them hell.” Mick turns back to smile at you, and you give him a nervous smile as you exit the car.

A few people around the entrance turn to give you funny looks, you reply to some of them by offering a thin-lipped smile. The real show starts when you finally enter the racing grounds, photographers turning to snap a picture of you when they realise it’s actually you. You plaster on a plastic smile, waving at them as you do your absolute best to walk in the 6-inch heels which were definitely not the brightest idea you’ve ever had.

“Hi, Barbie!” A similar voice calls out to you, and you smile genuinely for the first time as you call back. ,

“Hi, Ken!” You turn towards Pierre, pushing your sunglasses up towards your hair as you watch the Frenchman walk towards you with Carlos and Charles behind him.

“Please tell me it’s a wig,” Carlos frowns, his eyes lingering on your suddenly platinum hair.

“I’m having fun as a blonde, Carlos.” You shrug innocently, your arms crossing over your chest, and the pink dress you’ve decided to wear for the occasion.

Pierre nods in support, “Blondes do have more fun, Carlos.”

“I- Why?” Carlos asks, not getting the joke shared between you and Pierre. “I don’t understand.”

“Fine, no soup for you, then.” You mumble rolling your eyes. However, your eyes widen when you realise he genuinely doesn’t get the reference. “Seriously- Carlos, it’s from Seinfeld.”

“I’ve never watched it.” He admits, his frown still prominent on his face.

“It’s okay, mate,” Pierre assures him taking him away to explain the joke to him, which leaves you and Charles alone.

You turn to Charles with a coy smile on your face. “You like the new look?”

“I- but, when?” He asks you, more confused then ever. “You were not blonde when I left last night.”

“Mick bought the dye for me.” You explain, trying to supress a grin. “We stayed up all night trying to bleach my hair.”

“You stayed up all night?” Charles asks, more concerned now that he learns that you didn’t have a good night’s sleep. “That’s so wrong, mon soleil, why did you do it? Is it about the article? Of course, it is.”

“Charles, calm down, darling.” You place a hand on his chest, even though you’re hyperaware of the fact that both of you are out in the open. “I’m just going to prove something, alright? I feel fine.”

“You should’ve slept.” Charles frowns, taking a deep breath. “Are you sure you feel good enough to be in a car?”

You nod excitedly. “Positive, I have a race to win. And wait until you see what Lewis and I are going to wear.”

“I can’t wait, chérie.”

Just as you promised Charles, you win the race. Your pace is even better than the previous day, but instead of being fuelled by anger, you are fuelled by determination to win. Your engineers play Aqua’s Barbie Girl as a surprise, and to make things even better, Lewis and you stand on the podium in a Mercedes 1-2 in your matching pink helmets and shoes – even Toto donned pink glasses for the occasion. Charles lets out a hearty laugh alongside you on the podium when he sees your outfits. Yeah, you decide in that moment, this one is for the girls.

You and Charles’ relationship happened so unexpectedly, but that doesn’t mean that you regret a secret moment of it. It all started when you were moving to Monte Carlo at the end of last year’s season, and Charles was the only one available to help you in the process – not that you asked him of course, he offered you to help because he is a gentleman like that. It didn’t take the both of you long enough to go on dates as you spent more and more time together, and it was a natural transition to both of you dating each other exclusively. Despite what you expected, the first time Charles actually kissed you was on a cliff overlooking the entirety of Monte Carlo, the view was beautiful, but you were still apprehensive because of your location on the cliff. So, being the gentleman he is, Charles offered to hold you, and that’s when he decided to kiss you.

Lewis comes back to the table after taking a phone call as he apologises, “Sorry, I was on the phone; long distance.”

“God?” You ask him, mockingly nodding, which makes George and Carmen laugh.

“London,” Lewis clarifies as he gives you a questioning look.

You gasp as you ask. “God lives in London?”

“No, my mother in lives in London.” Lewis replies in the calmest voice he can muster.

“You mother is God?” You ask right back, without the appearance of joking. Your small discussion grabs the attention of other drivers and couples as the two of you continue bickering.

“Y/N,” Lewis tries to warn you, but you continue on with your rant.

Leaning towards Charles, Alex and Lily who are seated close together, you announce, “So, God is a woman.”

“Y/N!” Lewis groans this time.

“And my teammates mother, it’s so cool! I’m definitely going to ask for strategy points for the next season.”

The table shares a laugh as you and Lewis continue bickering back and forth, eliciting laughs from people who watch you with amusement. Eventually, Pierre clears his throat. “Okay, what is everyone’s plans for the break?” he asks, trying to look over the long table.

“Isa and I are off to Mallorca,” Carlos announces as she presses a sweet kiss to his cheek.

“I’m going back home,” Yuki shrugs.

“I’m going to see Chloe and Scotty,” Lance mumbles, “and probably Daniel, too.”

Everyone goes around to announce their plans for the break, but when it comes to you and Charles, you are nervous as you announce, “I’m just going to stay home, get to know the city, you know?”

“Yeah, same.” Charles nods, thinking he got away with his evasive answer.

“You’re going to get to know the city you were born and raised in?” Fernando asks with a knowing smirk.

“You can always find new things if you know where to look,” Charles replies in a serious tone, trying to appear stern as he nods to strengthen his point. You’re busy squeezing his hand under the table to death.

“Yeah, like what?” Max asks, which earns him a slap on the arm from Kelly. “What? I’m curious.”

“Like, umm, like-like cafés, and bookshops, and you know those little stores which sell souvenirs but not the generic kind?” He rambles, trying to think of more examples.

“Okay that’s enough,” Lewis cuts him off, shaking his head as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “We all know the two of you are dating. The entire grid, and engineers, and probably most of the team principles.”

“What?” You laugh nervously, trying to shrug him off. “Don’t be stupid.”

“Yeah, we are not dating.” Charles shakes his head, his octave going up as he receives looks from people around the table. “We are not!”

“Drop the act, it’s disgusting the way you two look at each other.” Checo complains from the other side of the table.

“Yeah, and I can see him doing stuff to your hand under the table.” Lance winces.

“He is not doing stuff to my hand under the table!” You squeal, but Charles is too busy trying to contain his laughter next to you. “Is this funny to you, Charles?”

“I mean, a little bit,” Charles confirms, finally succumbing to his laugher, “we have nothing to hide now, chérie.”

“I knew it!” Pierre exclaims, “I told you I saw them together at my birthday!” He tells his girlfriend.

“Toto and I saw them kissing after quali,” Lewis shrugs.

You gasp as you turn towards him. “You did not!”

“Yes we did,” Lewis argues, “even Susie saw.”

Charles pulls you towards himself, still laughing over people arguing whether they saw you together over the past year or not, as he wraps your arms around your shoulder, you murmur to him, “I am so crashing next to him next year, Daniel style.” You take a pause to think, “No, Mazepin style.”

“Maybe not crash into your teammate for the sake of poor Toto, mon soleil.”

You let out an unsatisfied grumble as you hear Alex complain to Lily, “Why didn’t she tell me? I thought we were best friends!” You groan and look around the table at all the people around you, who are all surprisingly supportive of your relationship, you smile as you press a soft kiss to Charles’ lips.

He grins as he asks, “What was that for?”

“Nothing,” you shrug, “I just think you’re pretty cool.”

“I think you’re pretty cool, too, my love.” He mumbles and gives you another kiss despite few groans coming from around the table.

#monzabee #requests open #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #formula 1 #fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #imagine #fluff #angst #smut #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc fluff

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arcielee · 4 months ago

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How House of the Dragon’s Ewan Mitchell became TV’s most chilling villain [interview + pictures]

He played Barry Keoghan’s geeky friend in Saltburn. Now, the 27-year-old from Derby is riding dragons as Matt Smith’s terrifying nephew.

House of the Dragon, the Game of Thrones prequel series, is coming to the boil for its second-season finale, a cauldron of Targaryen civil war, court skulduggery and dragon-on-dragon dust-ups. For many, the highlight of this season has been the emergence of a beguiling new villain in Ewan Mitchell’s Prince Aemond Targaryen, who has a character arc that’s more like a zigzag. Spoilers follow.

Aemond lost his eye to the knife of his cousin, Lucerys, got airborne revenge when his dragon, Vhagar, swallowed Lucerys whole and is now on the Iron Throne as prince regent after Vhagar barbecued the king, Aemond’s despised brother Aegon, into a walking kebab. What makes the character, though, is the chilling panache with which Mitchell plays him; an impassive psychopath behind his eyepatch.

The showrunner, Ryan Condal, has said that he was at times taken aback by the Derby-born actor’s intensity. “I sometimes forget to blink,” Mitchell, 27, says with a smile. “I need to just chill out a little bit.” Not if it means losing the edge that defines Aemond, the same contained menace that fuelled Michael Corleone. It’s a Dornish-hot day in Covent Garden. Mitchell is softly spoken like Aemond, with striking blue-grey eyes, but considerably more courteous and less terrifying. His hair, which he buzz-cuts for the show to accommodate a wig, has grown to a tousled mop, dyed a Targaryen peroxide for this publicity tour.

To help him to get into character Mitchell listened to Metallica and Slipknot (“Aemond’s straight out of heavy metal”), while cinematic inspirations included Kirk Douglas’s titular swashbuckler (“with his strong chin”) in the 1958 movie The Vikings, the icily evil android played by Michael Fassbender in Prometheus and slow-walking horror villains such as Michael Myers in Halloween. “That’s the message that Aemond wants to give off: that he has you in his sights and you won’t be able to escape him,” Mitchell says. Sometimes he took it too far. In one scene he stalked into the council chamber, “and [the director] Alan Taylor said, ‘Can you speed up the walk, please?’”

His dragon’s knack of pouncing midair (“She comes up out of nowhere like Jaws”) helps Aemond’s aura, as does that eyepatch, even if it took Mitchell a while to get used to when riding horses. He often kept it on between takes, he says, “because over the course of a couple of hours you develop a headache”. That, in his world, is a good thing because it helps to suggest a “volcano that’s boiling underneath the surface”.

We are increasingly invited to compare Aemond with the show’s other compelling bad boy: his uncle Daemon, played by Matt Smith. Both are spares who believed they deserved the crown more than the heir. “Aemond is a prince who stands to inherit nothing,” Mitchell says. “He recognised, similar to Daemon, that everything he wanted to achieve he’d have to go out and get himself. Daemon and Aemond — their names are anagrams of each other and he definitely looked up to Daemon growing up.”

Similarly, Mitchell was a fan of Doctor Who as a child and Smith was his favourite Doctor. “There is a certain resemblance as well. I remember my nan saying that,” he says. Now, though, Aemond and Daemon are on opposite sides, the former fighting with the “Greens”, the latter, nominally, with Queen Rhaenyra’s “Blacks”. Two men with brutal self-confidence, a sense of grievance and prominent chins … the stage is set for a bloody confrontation, as it was in the original Game of Thrones between the brothers Sandor and Gregor Clegane. Aemond has already said he would “welcome” a chance to test himself against his uncle.

When it will happen, Mitchell can’t say. In preparation, though, he and Smith have been avoiding each other on set. That was Mitchell’s idea, but Smith and Condal agreed that it would help them to keep their grudge-match powder dry. “In the same way that Aemond keeps Daemon on that podium, I wanted to keep Matt Smith on that podium,” he says. “Our stories are very much contained and we shot in different studio spaces, so we never really brushed shoulders.”

Mitchell has also decided not to watch or read the original Game of Thrones. “I didn’t want it to influence me whether it be subconsciously or consciously,” he says, before asking me, “Which one do you prefer, House of the Dragon or Game of Thrones?” It’s hard to say until this show is over, I say, although both are equally obsessed with incest. He looks puzzled. “There was only one Targaryen in Game of Thrones, right?” Erm, not quite but I don’t want to spoil it. He smiles. “I’ll get around to watching it.”

He has certainly steeped himself in the world of House of the Dragon, which was adapted from the book Fire and Blood by the Thrones creator George RR Martin and is set more than a century before the first saga. Mitchell drew Aemond’s family tree when he got the part and can’t hide his annoyance when he briefly confuses Driftmark and High Tide, respectively an island and its castle in the show. “I’m kicking myself,” Mitchell says, which feels typical of his obsessiveness.

What is it about the Midlands that produces actors with such bristling presence? Mitchell, like Paddy Considine, who played Aemond’s father, Viserys, in the show, is a working-class son of Derbyshire and studied at the Television Workshop, an affordable, inclusive drama school in Nottingham whose other alumni include Samantha Morton, Jack O’Connell, Bella Ramsey and Vicky McClure.

“It’s just an amazing platform that champions raw talent,” Mitchell says. “I didn’t necessarily possess the means or the finances to go to drama school — no one in my family has ever done it.” His father’s side is “very much military”, he says, his grandfather having served in the SAS in Malaya and Oman after the Second World War. “He was very stoic; didn’t show much at all.” So that’s where Mitchell gets it from — his friends in Derby, where he still lives, call him “the Iceberg”. “I keep my cards quite close to my chest,” he says and he certainly does when it comes to saying if he has a partner.

After graduating he got his break in The Last Kingdom, the medieval drama series, playing Osferth, a kinsman of King Alfred. Good practice for the sword swinging, horse riding and dagger tossing to come. There was also a small role in High Life, the sci-fi-horror film starring Robert Pattinson, and a bigger one in Saltburn, Emerald Fennell’s remix of Brideshead Revisited, as Barry Keoghan’s geeky mathematician friend — one of the few non-plummy characters. “Emerald would give me something new every single take: ‘Play this one like Travis Bickle, play this one like a serial killer,’” Mitchell says.

• Before Game of Thrones — the story behind House of the Dragon

Like Robert De Niro as Bickle, Mitchell is brilliant at showing vulnerability beneath the menace. He loved shooting the scene in House of the Dragon where a smirking, pre-barbecue Aegon finds a naked Aemond in bed with the brothel worker who has become a mother figure. Aemond’s real mother is Dowager Queen Alicent Hightower (Olivia Cooke), whom he, as regent, has just ruthlessly stood down from the Small Council. “He doesn’t want anyone else to notice that he actually really loves his mum,” he says. “Once the war ends he wants to be sat on a Dornish beach with her sipping piña coladas.”

“Horror is definitely a genre I’d love to venture into at some point.”

They may not get that far, although you sometimes feel that Aemond knows how things will pan out — he accepted the regency with a cool sense of inevitability. Condal has stressed the parallels of his story with the Greek myth of the Cyclops, Mitchell says. “He traded one of his eyes to Hades so he could see the day he would die.” Recent events have tested Aemond’s prescience, though, notably Rhaenyra’s recruitment of low-born Targaryen bastards to ride dragons. In the finale “you’ll see Aemond lose that composure”, Mitchell says. “He’s gonna get desperate, and you don’t want Aemond desperate because that’s when he starts to overextend.”

What next? Mitchell won’t say how many seasons of House of the Dragon he has signed up for and we know by now that anyone can be killed off with zero fanfare. He clearly loves movies, peppering his chat with references to Inglourious Basterds, The Untouchables and the M Night Shyamalan film Split, and says he would love to work with Jodie Comer, the Safdie brothers, who made Uncut Gems, and Rose Glass, who directed Love Lies Bleeding. Oh, and “horror is definitely a genre I’d love to venture into at some point.” He would be a natural.

tagging my beloved @assortedseaglass fuck the paywall

copy pasta from The Times

#ewan mitchell #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen

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rainbowpopeworld · 1 month ago

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(So you don’t have to deal with all the annoying ads on The Mirror’s website, here’s the whole article interview)

EXCLUSIVE: David Tennant reveals his wife Georgia's role) in his 'huge' Rivals series decision

By Nicola Methven

“David Tennant says he jumped at the chance to star in Jilly Cooper’s 1980s bonkbuster Rivals - because his wife said it would be “sensational”.

The former Doctor Who star said she was thrilled when the first script arrived. “I told Georgia and she was convinced that this was something I had to be involved with,” he explains. “She said, ‘This series is going to be huge. This is going to be exactly what the country needs, exactly what the world needs.’

"She knew the books from her teenage years, as I understand, and knew that this was going to make sensational television.”

He duly accepted the role of Lord Tony Baddingham, one of the show’s main villains and was delighted when Georgia eventually got to watch the episodes, and loved them.

"Her reaction was so positive and so joyous," he says. "I know when she's being genuine."

Tony is a grammar school boy with a chip on his shoulder about not being a proper toff. His character runs a regional TV station facing franchise renewal and has a dependable upper-crust wife, played by Sherwood's Claire Rushbrook, but is also having a very steamy affair with the new TV executive he's lured over from New York (Nafessa Williams).

The actor, 53, argues that poor old Tony is just horribly misunderstood. "From the inside, no character believes they're a villain, do they? I think Tony's motivations are very clear. He's very easy to understand in many ways. Tony sees himself as hard done by and someone who's just struggling to survive and to win."

While he can remember the 80s quite clearly, Tenant says that filming Rivals felt very much like being on a period drama. "It's almost like being on the set of a Dickens novel," he muses.

"The 80s seems quite recent history to me, but once you start recreating that world, you realise it's actually very different. That's wonderful fun to film - to be on a time capsule of a set is glorious."

As the Doctor he got to time-travel all over the place in the TARDIS but Tenant says he loved spending time in the 80s, not least because of the music. When you're a teenager at the time, a lot of it, however good it is, is uncool, and therefore you're not really allowed to like it," he says. "Whereas now, as a jaded 53-year-old, I can just go, 'Oh, do you know what I loved? A-ha'."

And what else did he love? "I didn't have to ride a horse, which was a mercy, because I'm a little bit allergic."

Tenant admits that filming the incredibly saucy bedroom scenes was a bit awkward but he felt there was safety in numbers thanks to the huge number of them. Barely any of the cast don't end up getting involved in one way or another.

"| mean, sex scenes are never comfortable, you know? But again, because everyone was in the same boat, there was a lot of discussion about, 'When are you doing that scene?' and 'Have vou done that yet?'

He believes it's fine for Rivals to be labelled a “bonkbuster" - it's full of sex at the end of the day - but only if it's said with due respect for what Dame Jilly achieved with the Rutshire Chronicles. "There are a generation of readers who were so influenced by her, and for whom these novels meant so much, it means that that writing is obviously better than some would have you believe," he says. "The way she writes character is timeless, and people having sex is pretty timeless. So these books have been tenacious for a reason." The actor says an early scene where the pathologically competitive Tony leaps from his helicopter onto the croquet lawn is his favourite career moment so far.

"That hole-in-one, I would like you to know, was probably the greatest day of my professional life," he laughs. Instructed by the director to "whack it" from 30 feet away he was told the cameras would keep running until he managed it. "I thought the crew are gonna hate me by take 402," he remembers. "And I nailed it on take four. I've never felt more pleased with myself than that moment. I felt like a sporting God."”

#david tennant #Rutshire? really?? 😂#I guess it’s the same as Baddingham #I had never heard of Jilly Cooper or her books before David was cast in this #I’m sure I’m going to enjoy the gratuitous sex #I’m not sure I’ll enjoy any of the vibes or plot #david fucking tennant #sexy scottish serpent #rivals #jilly cooper #bonkbuster #interview #tony baddingham #georgia tennant #good omens #crowley #doctor who #dw

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 4 months ago

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How House of the Dragon’s Ewan Mitchell became TV’s most chilling villain

He played Barry Keoghan’s geeky friend in Saltburn. Now, the 27-year-old from Derby is riding dragons as Matt Smith’s terrifying nephew

It’s just an amazing platform that champions raw talent,” Mitchell says. “I didn’t necessarily possess the means or the finances to go to drama school — no one in my family has ever done it.” His father’s side is “very much military”, he says, his grandfather having served in the SAS in Malaya and Oman after the Second World War. “He was very stoic; didn’t show much at all.” So that’s where Mitchell gets it from — his friends in Derby, where he still lives, call him “the Iceberg”. “I keep my cards quite close to my chest,” he says and he certainly does when it comes to saying if he has a partner.

#house of the dragon #ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen #the times

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wonwoosthetic · 2 years ago

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Hi can you do anything that’s pre-outbreak of Joel and reader anniversary. It can be smut but the beginning can be Joel and Sarah planning the anniversary! I love their relationship so much

series masterlist

pairing – pre-outbreak!joel x reader

word count – 11.6k (this was supposed to be short and sweet... what happened...)

warnings – slight injuries, hospital scene but nothing major, cute smut (18+)

a/n – some more cute domestic joel stuff 🥺 with some smut hehe 😬 thank you for the request <3 I hope you like what I made with it ˙ᵕ˙ also just want to quickly take the time and thank you guys for all the love on my previous joel work, you actually made my app crash 😅🤭

Happy Anniversary?

2000

After Sarah had finished her homework at the Adler's place, she ran home and hopped onto the couch to enjoy some child-friendly TV - being stuck in a house with only people over sixty wasn't really her favourite way of spending her free time.

It didn't surprise her when her dad wasn't home at six. It also didn't surprise her when he wasn't there yet at seven. Around eight in the afternoon though, she started to wonder. The only way she could reach him was the landline, so she leaned over the armrest of the sofa to get a hold of the phone before dialling the number her father had made her know by heart back in kindergarten. It didn't even ring. The robot's voice immediately let her know that he was unavailable. With scrunched eyebrows and her lips pressed together in a tight line, she leaned back into the cushions.

There was one other person that would probably know where he was. You. Another number Joel had asked her to learn once he had noticed that things were getting serious between the two of you. The girl didn't need to wait for long before the familiar tone of your voice rang through her eyes.

"Hello?" Of course, you had the number of Joel's landline saved in your phone, but you didn't know who of the Miller household was calling.

"Hi, Y/N!"

"Oh, Sarah, hey! How are you?"

Sarah smiled, just like she always did whenever she got to talk to you. The relationship the two of you had built up over the past year she had known you, was something very special. Not only did she love the connection you, from one woman to another, but she truly felt like you had a close friendship she wouldn't want to give up. Ever.

"I'm good, thanks, how are you?"

You sighed, "Good… now that I'm home."

"Adult work isn't getting any more exciting?" She joked, making you chuckle.

"Exactly." A second of silence passed before you noticed nothing coming from her side. "Are you okay?"

Sarah made herself more comfortable on the couch, "Yup… sorry that I called you-"

"Don't worry, sweetie, trust me, hearing you right now has been the best part of the entire day."

Your comment made her grin even wider, "Well I'm happy to make your day better," to which you both giggled. "I was just wondering if you've heard anything from dad. Did he say he has to work late today?"

You let her question register in your brain before you went through the conversation you had with Joel last night since you haven't heard from today yet. "Ehm… no, I don't think he said anything about that. Isn't he home yet?"

Sarah shook her head before realising, you can't see her, "No, so I kinda thought, maybe he's still at work, but… now I don't know."

"Maybe something came up-"

"He isn't picking up." That made you go quiet. "I tried calling him, and it just went straight to his voicemail."

You bit your lip. Oh, God. You knew the stress of a parent not being at home at the usual time just all too well, remembering all the times it had happened to you as a kid and you immediately thought of the worst-case scenario.

"What about uncle Tommy?" You suggested.

The girl was just about to open her mouth and answer when the front door opened. Her head snapped to her left, eyes immediately on the familiar figure of her father entering the room.

"Wow…" she breathed out.

"What? What is it?" You hastily wondered.

"Speaking of the devil," you could hear the slight annoyance in her voice, "Guess who just walked through the door?" Joel sent her a questioning look as he walked further into the living room, throwing himself onto the couch, right next to his daughter.

You couldn't help but chuckle, "Hm… maybe your father, who once again decided to work longer and not tell us about it?"

"Mh," she grinned before turning to the man and shaking her head with a frown on her face.

A breath of relief fell from your lips as you got up from your position on one of the armchairs in your living room, "Well then, mystery solved. You better interrogate the heck out of him."

"Without you?" She gasped.

"Oh, trust me, he'll get a good talking-to from me tomorrow." Your answer received a grin from the girl, followed by a subtle devilish giggle.

"Good. Thank you for picking up, not like some other people here." Her comment was clearly directed to her father, earning her a soft shove to her upper arm, making her grin.

You smiled, "Anytime, sweetie. I guess I have to go back to my boring life now. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yep!" The happiness and excitement radiated off that little girl, lightning up the sparkle in her eyes at the mention of the following day. "See ya! Good night, Y/N."

"Good night, Sarah."

The youngest Miller placed the phone back on the side table, before turning to the oldest one, crossing her arms in front of her chest. She cleared her throat, "What do you have to say in your defence, Sir?" Her eyes followed his movements as he leaned back into the sofa with a groan, running a hand over his face.

"I forgot to tell you-"

"Oh, really!" She quickly exclaimed, interrupting Joel, receiving a warning glance from him, making her sulk back into the cushions.

"So as I was saying," he glanced at her, "I'm sorry that I forgot to tell you that I'd be in town after work. And I forgot to charge my phone."

Sarah scrunched her eyebrows, "What were you doing in town?"

Joel groaned, getting up to look for some food in the kitchen, "I wanted to get something for Y/N for tomorrow."

His answer made the girl laugh out loud as she got up to join him in the other room, sitting down at the dining table, "Are you serious?"

He looked up at her from his crouched position as he was trying to find something to eat in the fridge. "What?"

His daughter shook her head, "You're looking for an anniversary gift one day before your anniversary?"

Joel took out the container holding dinner from two days ago, grinning when it reminded him of you. Always making sure there was food in the house he lived in. You cared for him. And his daughter. "I've been thinking about what to get her for a few days, alright? But I haven't had the time to actually go and look for it," he defended himself, but it didn't get the look off the girl's face.

"And what did you find?"

He sighed, "Nothing. That's the problem."

"What are you gonna do now?"

"I have no idea…" Sarah could tell how exhausted he must be with the heavy breath leaving his lips. But the fact that he truly cared about getting you something special made her ecstatic. "You hungry?" Her father wondered, getting a shake of her head in response,

"I ate earlier." She shot up from her seat and skipped over into the kitchen, "So?! What are you gonna do?" Leaning on the counter, eyeing her dad suspiciously as he took a bite of the cold food with a fork. That also earned him a weird look from her, but he just wanted to get something into his stomach, not caring about the temperature - your cooking was gourmet to him in any way.

"I don't know," he answered, shrugging, "I can't believe I'm so fucking bad at giving gifts." Sarah ignored the swear word, blaming his fatigue, and didn't remind him of the swear jar you and her had brought into the house two months earlier.

"What did you gift her for her birthday?"

Tomorrow would be your first anniversary together.

A full years of being an official couple. While Joel was a romantic gentleman in every way possible, buying you flowers 'just 'cause', calling you sometimes multiple times a day 'just to hear your voice', keeping you in the house over the weekends and sometimes overnight during the week 'because he could never spend too much time with you', he still was a horrible gift giver - a fact no one could deny.

But more of a problem was your inability of receiving gifts. Because you hated it. You loved giving, hated receiving - not in all parts of life though. Especially not with Joel.

Though, whenever he had asked you what you wanted for your anniversary, birthday, or even International Woman's Day, he got the same answer each time: "I don't want anything." The truth was, you truly didn't. You've never been a big fan of material things, rather finding the thought behind something and a small gesture much more meaningful and loving. All the 'little' things your partner would do for you were enough - opening doors, carrying you whenever your feet hurt and taking you out for dinner on random days, were just a few of them. Yes, it may be the bare minimum, but still a rare minimum.

A rare minimum you had never been blessed with, with any of your past boyfriends. All until you met Joel and found out what it was like to have a true man by your side.

"That necklace you told me she'd like," he reminded her, brushing a hand over the wild curls he adored so much.

Sarah nodded with an open mouth, "Aaah, right right, I remember. She really did like that." They both nodded in sync. "But do you know what she loved even more?" Making the oldest Miller's head perk up,

"What?"

His daughter grinned at him, "The poster I made for her."

"True," he couldn't help but copy her facial expression, "She did like that a lot."

"She LOVED it!" Sarah shouted out, hitting her palms on the top of the counter, "She almost cried when she saw it," followed by giving her father a side-eye look, "She only said thanks to your gift, but she had tears because of mine."

Joel glanced at her, one eyebrow raised, "What are you tryna tell me?"

"Y/N loves me more than you," she flipped an invisible strand of hair to underline her comment.

The older man smiled, "Sure."

"Buuut," she dragged out the word, leaning over to steal a piece of broccoli from the container Joel was eating out of, "I also think that she would just appreciate self-made stuff more than things you can buy."

He stopped for a second to think before nodding his head, "So you're suggesting that I what? Build something?" Sarah nodded. "And what exactly?"

"Man, what do I know… You're the contractor here." But all he could do was sigh. He was in fact the contractor, but what the hell had that something to do with anything. The man put the food to the side to make some space and place his elbows on the counter, shoving his face into his two palms, groaning out loud.

The daughter of the family stood by his side, staring at him in amusement, finding this situation much funnier than her dad. With a chuckle, she passed him placing a somewhat comforting hand on his back.

"You're a lousy gift giver." Her comment though was anything but comforting.

He straightened his back to glare down at the girl, "Thanks." But it just got a giggle out of her.

After a quick glance around the room, the idea she had been holding in, as it was supposed to stay a secret present from her to the couple, came back up into her brain. "We could bake something for her."

That caught his attention. Joel didn't hate the idea. He definitely didn't. Your sweet tooth was known to the family, added to your appreciation and love for self-made gifts turned it into the perfect present.

"We?"

Sarah scoffed, "You really think I'd trust you with baking a cake?"

"Hey," he took her statement as an offence, "I'm doing very well in the kitchen." He didn't even believe that himself.

"Pff," she patted his back once again, "Sure, dad. Sure."

"I'm a great cook, alright?" he took it one step further, but his daughter was having none of it, giggling at him while shaking her head,

"You're an okay cook and a terrible baker."

He took the last bite of what was left in the plastic box before moving to put it into the dishwasher. "You can't be serious right now…"

Moments like these were Sarah's favourite. Watching her dad get all rilled up just never failed to make her chuckle. Joel enjoyed it just as much. The happiness radiating off her, with a beautiful and bright smile decorating her face, was a sight he never wanted to lose. "Uncle Tommy's a better baker than you," she quickly added before sliding past him to find the fitting cookbook on the shelf in the living room.

Joel's head shot into her direction, a finger pointing at her before she disappeared, "You take that back!" Her high-pitched giggles filled his ears with love and joy.

Sarah's feet were dangling off the counter while she was snacking on some of the sprinkles she wanted to put on the cake, along with taste-testing the pink sugar writing. Her father was preparing the frosting, every now and then checking on the cake in the oven, making sure it wouldn't burn because that was the last thing he needed.

They were sharing a few moments of comfortable silence in the room, whereas the girl's mind was filled with questions, daring to slip out any second as she didn't want to hold them back for much longer.

"So, Y/N's coming over tomorrow?"

Joel nodded with a whisk in the bowl, covered in blue-greenish frosting Sarah had coloured, "Yeah, I'm picking her up from work, and I'd bring her here," he looked up, "If that's okay with you."

"Of course," his daughter chuckled, putting the sprinkles down, freeing her hands so she could place them on the counter. She puckered her lips, thinking carefully about her next question. As much as she thought of a way to introduce the subject, she couldn't think of one, so she just jumped into the cold water.

"Do you wanna marry Y/N?" The words made Joel stop in his tracks, his eyes shot up to meet hers.

He sent her a questioning glance, "W-Where's that coming from?"

She shrugged, "I was just thinking. You know… you've been together for a year… and you seem happy-"

"We are," he assured her.

"And don’t adults think about getting married? When they’re happy."

He stood up straighter to lean onto the counter, crossing his arms, leaving the work on the frosting on the side for a bit. "Aren't you a little too young to be thinking about marriage?"

"For me? Yeah," she scoffed, "Because boys? Disgusting," getting a proud smirk for father as a response, "But I mean for you two… I don't know… I was just wondering."

Joel sighed, getting back to work, "Well… I mean, you ain't wrong, sweetheart. But there's a lot of things you need to do before you get married or even think about proposing."

"Like moving in?"

"Sure," he nodded, "Some couples move in before they get married. It's not the traditional way, but as we know, traditional is boring." She copied his head movements with a grin plastered on her face.

"Then why not ask her?" Sarah tilted her head and raised her eyebrows as soon as she locked eyes with the oldest Miller again.

"What do you mean?"

"Ask her to move in."

Joel chuckled in surprise, the spit in his throat almost making him joke, "You sure have some interesting suggestions today, kiddo. You alright? Do I have to be worried?" His facial expression made her laugh out loud as she nudged him with her foot, making him squirm away jokingly.

"Nooo, dad! I'm just saying," she motioned around with her hands,

"You've been together for a while… and… she's already spending every weekend here and sometimes comes over during the week. She makes sure we eat," Joel nodded along with all of the things his daughter was listing, "She takes care of me and you, she already has some of her stuff in your drawer-"

"How do you know about that?" She grinned sheepishly at him, "I saw it when I went through your stuff…"

The father took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a second, "Alright… how about we don't do that anymore?" Eyeing the little girl sitting on the counter to his left, but she just shrugged,

"You said we shouldn't keep any secrets from each other."

He sighed. Fuck. She wasn't wrong. "You're right… I did say that." Goddamn, always smarter than any other adult in the room. That was his little Sarah.

"So, are you gonna ask her?"

After tasting the frosting and checking its consistency, he gave the girl the whisk, just like he saw you doing it multiple times before. She accepted it with a bright smile.

Joel enjoyed having conversations like these. Obviously, he understood that she was still a kid, and he would never deny her of her innocent mind and easy-going-with-the-wind mindset, but he also appreciated the slightly more adult talks they could share. That's why he was more than happy to explain it to her.

"It's not as easy as you think it is, kiddo. Y/N still has an apartment. One that she shares. So, we’d have to talk about that first. And there's a lot of document stuff we'd have to get-"

"I asked her," she caught his attention when he came back up to stand up straight from looking at the cake through the oven window.

"What?"

"I asked her if she would like to move in with us. Not like actually, but just, you know, the idea of it."

Now Joel became interested. Of course, the two of you had had the conversation about a shared home before, but every couple had that at some point in their relationship. Hearing what you'd think about the idea now would have maybe changed. Now it was more relevant than ever, apparently.

"And," he looked down at his fingers, "What did she say?"

Sarah smirked, "She said the same thing as you just did. So really a match made in heaven," and rolled her eyes jokingly, "But she also said that she'd really like the idea… if I was okay with it."

"And? Are you- I-I mean, would you?"

"Of course! Are you kidding me?! I love her so much! Probably even more than you-"

"I doubt that."

"I don't," she stated straightforwardly, "And you're happy when you're with her, and you make her happy. What more you could want? AND thanks to her, the weekends aren't so boring anymore."

"What was wrong with the weekends before?" He was slightly taken aback by her comment, unsure if it was meant ironically or not. But then again, he was probably overthinking a lot at that moment.

Sarah smiled, "Don't get me wrong, dad. I loved the weekends with you and uncle Tommy, but having another woman in the house is just…" She shrugged, unsure of how to explain just how comfortable you made her feel. Joel and her were open about a lot of things, but Joel was… well, he was your typical single Texanian-dad, that didn't know what to do in certain female-focused situations - let's just put it like that.

Having conversations from woman to woman was something the father appreciated very much when it came to what you brought along when getting to know his kid. And the girl was happier than ever, being finally able to talk to an older person about certain struggles she might encounter that were still slightly too embarrassing to discuss with her dad.

"It's different, I know. I understand," he smiled at her.

"It's good different though," she nodded, "I really like her."

"And you'd be okay with her living here?" He finally asked. Sarah was the reason for his still-intact heartbeat. The only thing having kept him alive so far. Now you had also joined to share that position, but he was still his blood, and you'd never even try to get in between that.

"More than okay," she exclaimed, "I'd be SO happy to have her here constantly. I'd finally have someone against you."

Joel squinted his eyes at her, "Because Tommy isn't enough already?" Receiving a smug smile in return.

He shook his head with a chuckle when the timer went off, indicating that the cake was finally done. Sarah hopped off the counter to stand back on her two feet when her father leaned down to get the cake out of the oven and placed it on the stove.

"You know," he threw the dishtowel he used to not burn his hand to the side before turning to face the girl, "You might be a bit too smart for a kid your age."

The youngest Miller crossed her arms proudly, holding her chin up high, "Thanks, I got it from my uncle." That just made Joel look at her in surprise, almost making her laugh out loud.

He put on his low dad voice, "You got that from your father, thank you very much."

She dropped her hands, "Whatever," and moved a bit closer to stand right next to him, "So will you ask her tomorrow?"

"Yes," he promised her, "I will ask her tomorrow." To which she started bouncing up and down, her body full of excitement, making Joel chuckle and pull her in for a side hug and gift her a kiss on the top of her head.

She clapped her hands, "Now, let's start decorating."

You were running -scratch that - Sprinting through the hospital corridors, desperately trying to find the info point a nurse had told you to go to.

You had never crossed town at the speed you just did. Once the message from the other side of the call registered in your brain, you dropped everything at work, ignored the calls from your boss, just shouted a quick, "Family emergency," and raced to catch the next possible bus.

With a big breath shooting out of your lungs, you came to a halt once you came to sight with the hotspot you were looking for. You braced yourself up with your palm, trying to catch your breath before you spoke up, "Hi, sorry, I'm looking for Joel Miller. He's supposed to be in a check-up room."

The nurse looked up at you, surprised by the sound of urgency in your voice. She was quick to type the name into her system, but it felt like hours for you. Your legs were nervously shaking, barely able to hold you up anymore.

She opened her mouth, making you stare at her, eyes widened, "Room 293, down the hall on the right." You were just about to thank her and continue your race but she continued, "He's just got done with the medical exam, but I'd ask you to please wait outside until a doctor comes and approves of him accepting visitors."

Fuck that. You muttered a quick thanks before your legs took you where she explained the room would be.

If they really thought you'd wait for a fucking doctor to allow you to see your boyfriend you expected to be in the worst possible condition, they were wrong. Very wrong.

Hectically, your eyes scanned each number plate on the side of the doors as you tried to find the right one.

290… 291… 292… 293! A sigh of relief washed over you. You got closer to the door, glancing to the left and right, just to make sure there was no one that could see you walk in before you knocked three times. A quiet, "Yeah?" rang through your ears and you didn't wait for another second to open the door.

Your eyes immediately fell to the man sitting on the examining bed. He was alive. At least he looked like it.

"Y/N?"

Out of breath, you tried to speak, "Joel… w-what the fuck?!" He couldn't even open his mouth. "Are you out of your goddamn mind? What the- what the hell happened to you?!" You got closer to him, your fingers coming up to gently touch his chin, turning his head to look at the small scraps next to his eyes. You noticed the bandage on his forehead, guessing he must've gotten stitches there, only making you sigh again.

Joel got a hold of your hands, holding them close to his chest as he tried to calm you down, "Sweetheart… I'm okay," he brushed some wild hairs that were covering your face, to the side, "I'm alright."

"No," you shook your head, already feeling your throat close up, "Look at you."

"This is nothing, I promise."

While his right hand held onto yours tightly, the palm of his left one ran up and down your lower arm. You shrugged out of his grasp to hide your face behind your hands as soon as you could feel the first tears rolling down your cheeks. Your fingers pressed into your eyes.

"You scared the shit of out me," your voice was not much more than a whisper, but the room was quiet, so Joel was able to hear you clearly. He pushed himself off the bed, standing up in front of you to engulf you in a warm hug when he noticed your brittle voice and your whole body shaking.

His low voice tried to calm down your soft cries as he pressed your head into his chest, ignoring the slight pain in his ribs, remembering the big bruise that was forming there. "I'm sorry, darlin'," he whispered, "I'm sorry. But I'm okay. I promise." He moved his hands from brushing over your back to cupping your cheeks, his thumbs caressing your skin, wiping away the wet stains your tears left. "I'm alive," he grinned at you, but you just shook your head.

"You're a fucking idiot, Miller," pushing a finger into his chest, getting a subtle groan out of him, making you flinch back immediately, "What?" Your eyes hastily ran over his body, "You're hurt there too."

You tried to push his shirt up, but he stopped you, placing his hands on top of yours, "No no, don't worry. Just hurts a little."

You couldn't help but to sigh again. That man was going to be the death of you. With a few steps back, you distanced yourself from him, sitting down in one of the chairs by the desk across from the bed. Carefully, Joel sat back on top of the bed. Your eyes scanned his form as you noticed the hiss he was trying to hold back, his lips pressed together tightly.

You shook your head and closed your eyes, lowering your head.

"Did Tommy call you?"

You scoffed, "Obviously."

"Did you call Sarah?" To which you motioned a 'no' to him.

"You don't need two women in your life to have a heart attack," you explained, "And I didn't know what to tell her. Tommy just said there was an accident on the construction site, and you're in the hospital. I didn't even let him finish. I sprinted out of the office." Your story made him chuckle, but he noticed your still anxious and tense body.

"He brought me here just to make sure everything was alright. I wasn't hurt badly. No one was."

You looked up to meet his eye, "Joel, you got stitches!"

He shrugged, "Not the first time, not the last time."

"Why would you say that?!" You stared at him unamused, your mouth open. Taking a deep breath in, your hand brushed through your hair while you let your eyes travel around the room. You hated hospitals. You had yet to have a positive experience in one of these buildings. The silence that overcame the room was choking. But you weren't in the mood to say anything else, nor did you know what to even say, and Joel could read you like the back of his hand. He knew he scared you. He hated it, so he was the first to break the stillness.

"Happy Anniversary."

You raised your head, finding him grinning at you shyly, making you shake your head, "Don't. This isn't funny." He nodded, understanding what was going on in your head. Another moment of silence filled the room.

"I'm sorry. I know this isn't the way you expected to spend our anniver-"

"I couldn't care less about the anniversary, Joel!" You exclaimed in frustration, "I- I thought you were-," you stopped before you could get choked up again, not even wanting to dare to say out loud what was going on in your head when you answered Tommy's phone call. "God knows what could've happened to you!"

"Come 'ere," he nodded you over, but you shook your head,

"Joel-" you were stopped by the motion of his hand for you to come closer. The man was already hurt, you didn't have to add to that. With a sigh, you stood up, leaving your bag on the chair next to you, before walking up to him again. The oldest Miller leaned forward to grasp your hand and pulled you closer, even getting a soft smile out of you.

His hand rested on your hips as you stood between his legs while you intertwined your fingers behind his neck.

"I'm sorry for scaring you, darlin'. I promise I'll be more careful."

"You better," your finger slid through his hair as you noticed the look in his eyes while he was staring at you. His right hand found its way to the back of your neck, pulling you down to finally do what he had been wanting to do all day. His lips moved against yours as you could feel him smirking before he pulled back slightly.

"I'll make it up to you tonight." You looked into his eyes in confusion, but only for a second before you moved your head back with a gasp.

"Joel!" You smacked his shoulders gently, "You're sitting on fucking a hospital bed, how could you think about sex right now?" He just continued grinning, his hands moving all over your body, keeping his eyes on yours, "How could I not with you in front of me."

A chuckle escaped from your lips followed by a shake of your head, "You're unbelievable." You got pulled closer again, his lips smashing against yours.

"Unbelievably in love with you." Earning himself a giggle and a quick peck from you.

Your fingers softly grazed the skin of his cheek, careful not to touch any of his injuries as you smiled, "Happy Anniversary, Joel." He couldn't help but to copy your facial expression, keeping you as close to him as he possibly could.

You drove the two of you home after the oldest Miller had gotten released from the hospital, and Tommy had already made his way back to his place. Joel was definitely moving slightly more carefully, but he assured you he was a-okay - you didn't fully believe it, but it wasn't worth a discussion.

After parking the car in the garage, you made your way into the house through the backdoor. Joel opened it for you to walk in first, just like he always did. You gave him a quick, "thank you," and stepped in before you stopped in your tracks, a high-pitched voice surprising you with a loud,

"HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!"

"Oh, Jesus!" Your hand flew up to your chest, your breathing quickening as you took in the scene in front of you. Sarah was beaming at you with her bright smile, a pink poster with big letters staring directly at you.

You started laughing, "God, you scared me, kid."

Joel stopped behind you, laughing at the sight. She ignored your exclaim, running up to wrap her arms around your torso, making you do the same around her shoulders. You pulled her in, placing a kiss on the top of her head. "You really are just the cutest," pulling back to look at her, petting her cheek, "Thank you, sweetie."

She gave you another quick grin before moving on to her father, doing the same to congratulate him, when she noticed the cuts on his face.

"What happened to you?"

Joel shrugged, a hand brushing over her hair, "Just a little accident at work. Nothing to worry about."

You moved further into the house, placing your bag on one of the dining chairs. Your eyes took in the room, holding your gaze once again on the poster Sarah had clearly self-made. She had placed it on top of the table before she had rushed over to the two of you, so you were able to run your fingers over the little stones and glitter patches she had glued on. You remembered the sign you had gotten from her only a month ago.

"You outdid yourself this time, Sarah," you turned to her when you noticed she had come to stand next to you, "It's so cute."

"Thanks," she radiated her happiness on you. "And look!" She skipped into the kitchen, making your gaze follow her when she pointed to the counter when you saw what got her so excited.

You started giggling. On the countertop sat a turquoise-coloured cake, with white frosting details on the side on pink hearts decorating the top of it.

"Oh my god!" you exclaimed, "Awww, did you do that yourself?"

She shrugged with a smile, "Dad helped me." To which Joel got closer to you two, his eyebrows scrunched in confusion,

"I thought you helped me." His arm snaked around your waist.

"Well," she answered him, "You thought wrong," sending him a sheepish grin that made you chuckle.

You opened your arms to get her into another hug, tightening your arms around her just a little tighter than before, "Well, I appreciate it a lot. Thank you, sweetie. I love it." Your eyes may have gotten a little glassy, but you were able to hold it back, not wanting to surprise them with a gush of happiness.

Joel next to you cleared his throat, gaining all the attention of the room. You released Sarah from your grasped and wrapped your arms around your partner's waist. "And thank you to you too, of course," smiling up at him as he looked down. You puckered your lips, making him smirk and lower his head to meet your mouth, giving you a quick peck.

Sarah interrupted your small moment of love when she called out, "Okay, let's eat!"

All three of you followed her orders and sat down around the dining table after grabbing plates, forks, and a knife to cut the cake. While your eyes were on Joel, who was giving each one of you a good slice, you also noticed the little girl next in the middle of the two of you, happily clapping drumming her hands on the surface, that smile of hers never leaving her face.

It was in moments like these when you truly thought to yourself what you could have possibly done in your past life to deserve people like them in your life. A boyfriend that would carry you to the ends of the world, in whose arms you felt safer than anywhere else, along with a wonderful daughter that looked at you as if you were the reason for the stars lighting up the sky.

You enjoyed the sweet dinner, easily falling into a comfortable conversation like you usually would. Sarah told you about her good day at school, bragging about the grade she had gotten on her chemistry exam, earning her a round of applause from you and a kiss on her cheek from her father. Joel and you talked about your workdays, leaving out the time you had spent in the hospital. He was fine, that's all you cared about.

After the meal, you brought all the dirty dishes into the kitchen, loading up the dishwasher, Joel placed the cake back into the fridge, and Sarah was put in charge of choosing a movie to let the evening come to an end.

Her choice fell on Jurassic Park, knowing how much the oldest in the house loved the movie, and after getting a nod of approval from you, she put it into the DVD player, telling you to hurry up and join her on the couch.

Joel and you sat down on either side of her before the girl made herself comfortable and laid her head on your lap while resting her legs on her father's. Automatically, your hands found their way to her head, brushing through her unruly hair you always complimented.

This position allowed Joel to come just a little bit closer, lifting his daughter's legs to slide over to you, pulling your head to lean on his shoulder and copying your actions to start patting your head as well. Not even forty minutes later, the soft snores and even breaths from the little girl accompanied the sounds coming from the TV. You looked down with a chuckle.

"What?" Joel wondered, "Did she fall asleep?"

"Yeah," you smiled, eyeing him suspiciously once he stood up with a groan,

"Finally." He crouched down slightly, moving one arm underneath Sarah's knees, while his other one steadied her neck. He straightened his back and pointed a finger at you, "You stay here. I still have something to make up to you."

Getting a giggle out of you, "Joel!"

"I mean it!" He shout-whispered at you before disappearing upstairs.

You brought your knees up, hugging them to your body when you remembered the little gift that was still hidden in your bag. With a soft huff, you pushed yourself off the sofa and walked over to the dining room the snatch your bag off the chair.

"Darlin', where- oh, there you are," Joel found you with your back turned towards him, rummaging through your back when he crept up on you and placed his hands on your hips once he got close enough. His lips immediately latched onto your neck, peppering it with kisses, making you giggle.

"Stooop," you laughed, leaning back into his chest.

"What are you doing?" He wondered as you turned around, your hands hidden behind your back.

You grinned up at him, "I've got something for you."

"You do?" His eyebrows shot up, "Why? Having you here is already enough," he didn't even wait for a response from you, just saw you rolling your eyes, making him chuckle as he pulled you in for a quick kiss.

You were first to retrieve back, receiving a low whine from him in return, to which you shook your head with a smile. "May I give you your gift now?"

Joel stood up straighter and put his hands out, palm up, in front of you, closing his eyes along the process. Without wasting another second, you placed the little box into his grasp. He opened his eyes again, looking suspiciously at the packaging, shaking it slightly,

"What is it?"

"You really expect me to tell you instead of just opening it?"

He smiled, "Alright, alright."

You could hardly contain your excitement as he ripped the paper off the box, throwing it onto the table behind you. As soon as Joel opened it, his eyes shot up to find you grinning right at him.

"Darlin'…"

"Sarah told me you've been looking for one," you explained, "But she also said that you never take the time to go downtown and look for one. So, I thought, I'd just save you the stress."

His fingers ran across the rounded edges of the watch in the box. It looked expensive, that's for sure.

"You didn't have to do that, sweetheart," he spoke quietly, still in awe of the present worth so much more than just money in his hands.

You shrugged, "I know, but I wanted to."

Joel took it out of its packaging, putting that to the side as well before wrapping it around his wrist. Your fingers came to help, closing the little buckle so it fit him perfectly.

He couldn't take his eyes off the watch, "Thank you, darlin'," but you were a much better sight to him, "I love it," so he pulled you in again, "I ain't never taking that off ever again."

Your hands found their usual place on the back of his neck again as you kissed him back, whispering against his lips, "I'm glad you like it. Happy anniversary."

"Happy anniversary," he mumbled back, giving you a peck before sliding out of your embrace, "Well, I guess it's time for me to give you your present now?"

"Joel," you whined, "I told you, I don't-"

His hand stopped you before he exited the kitchen and came back only seconds later, his hand in a tight fist. You waited patiently for him to open his mouth again, even though you were anything but that.

He stopped in front of you, raised his arm and let what he was holding drop down while holding onto what looked like a key ring.

"What is it?" You reached out to grab it, laying it flat against your palm to analyse it. A key. Attached to a pendant representing three figures, a figure that was supposed to be a man, next to a woman, who then again stood next to the same figure just in small.

"The key to my heart?" He jokingly answered, making it sound more like a question, making you look up.

"Ha ha," you rolled your eyes. Always the romantic…

Joel took a deep breath before clearing his throat, "I mean… I guess it kinda is, but ehm… it's a housekey." You had to tear your eyes away from the object in your hands once again once your brain registered what he had just said.

"What?"

"So," he started explaining, his hands immediately on your hips again, "I was racking my brain over what I could give you today. But I just couldn't think of anything. Because honestly… I didn't think there was anything in this world that I could buy you, that would show you just how much you mean to me."

"Don't make me cry," you quickly intervened, making him chuckle as he placed a soft kiss on your cheek,

"I'll try," and put a strand of hair behind your ear. "Yesterday Sarah, the way too smart for her own good kid, that she is," the description made you smile, "got the idea of baking something for you because she said you value that a lot more than bought stuff." He had to take another deep breath before continuing, "And then while we were preparing the cake… you know her, she started asking all those questions until we landed on the whole moving-in thing." Throughout the whole speech, you listened attentively to your partner, keeping your eyes on him the entire time even while his drifted around the room. "Since you already spent the weekends with us and are here every now and then during the week, she asked me why you're not living with us yet."

"And your answer was?" A smug smile made its way onto your lips.

"Do you want the truth or what I told her?"

"The truth, please."

Joel's eyes followed his hands as they ran up and down your sides, "That her dad hasn't had the balls yet to ask his girlfriend." You shyly looked down back to your hands. At the little charm.

He noticed where your attention was and pointed at it, "Sarah picked that up today after school." Of course, she did… You could feel the tears coming back up. God, that girl was just too pure for the world…

"So?" His voice made you meet his eyes again, "What do you say? Can you handle three Millers under one roof?"

You pretended to think, playing with the lips he so desperately wanted to feel on his again, "It won't be easy."

He grinned, "That's not a no." You dropped the key onto the table behind you before your hands went back around his neck, pulling him in close enough for your lips to almost touch. You could feel his grip on your hips tighten.

The corners of your lips curled up, "That's because it's a yes," pecking his lips, "I'll take good care of you."

His left hand travelled to your lower back, "And we'll take good care of you too," he repeated giving you multiple little kisses, making you laugh. Oh, God how much he loved that sound. And now he would be able to hear that every single day. "Now, how about I stick true to that promise I made earlier?"

You nodded, breathing against each other's mouths, "Yeah, please do." And he didn't need to be told twice.

With one swift move, you were put onto the table, before he situated himself between your legs. His hands cupped your cheeks, pulling you as close as possible. You moved yourself slightly forward, letting a moan escape from your lips when you felt his tongue glide across your bottom lip.

Opening your mouth wider, gave him the opportunity to slip in, earning a deep groan from the man in front of you. Your fingers started playing with the hem of his shirt, signalling for him to pull back and pull it up as you helped him along with it, dragging him onto you the moment it came off - eyes immediately on the dark bruise forming on his ribs.

"Joel…," you gasped, reaching out to touch the dark spot, but he got a hold of your hand, bringing your knuckles up to his lips,

"It's nothin', darlin', don't worry about it." You could worry about the truth in his statement tomorrow, for now, you wanted to get him back on you, so you smashed your lips back onto his.

He chuckled, "Someone's eager," he started trailing kisses down your neck.

"Well, someone made me think about this for hours," you grabbed his face to bring him back up to you. You could never get enough of the touch of his lips. You would drown in it if you could. You wouldn't even care if you couldn't breathe anymore, it would be a happy death.

"And that someone is gonna make sure you won't be able to think at all for the next few hours," he whispered as his right hand slipped underneath your shirt, his thumb tracing over your bra.

You couldn't help the shake in your voice, "Hours? I think you're getting a little ahead of yourself, Miller." Knowing damn well that he wasn't. You had the privilege of getting the house to yourself every now and then or having had some alone time in your apartment. If he wanted to, he could go on for hours and hours. But you'd be lying if you said you didn't enjoy rilling him up just a little bit.

He scoffed, pulling your shirt over your head easily, "Sure, keep saying that. Keep talking while can." He knew what he was doing to you with those words.

His hands roamed your almost naked torso, cupping your still-covered breasts into his big hands, making you moan into his mouth.

You could feel that gentle touch of his on your body before it stopped on your ass, pulling you closer to him as he mumbled, "Come 'ere. Let's go upstairs."

You were held up tightly against him as he carried you up into the first floor, taking a sharp left to get you both into his, well now your, bedroom. Your bedroom. From now on, this was the room you'd be sharing with your partner. God, what a good time to be alive…

Once you had reached the bed, Joel slouched over, making sure to place you onto the mattress gently.

There were two sides to Joel Miller when it came to sex. You were very familiar with both. There was the soft side you adored so much. When he took his time with you, kissing every inch of your body, working you up just right, adoring your body and covering it with pure passion. His thrust would be slow and deep, gentle, yet just filled with the same amount of lust as his other side. The alter ego, as you'd like to think of it was fast-paced, hard, yet never too short, sex. Still very passionate, but loud and messy. Bruises weren't a rarety after a night like that. And while that was what you understood when thinking of sex, you adored love-making just a little bit more when the time was right. Just like at that moment.

His kisses moved from your neck, down between your breasts, along the middle of your torso, holding onto it tightly, until he reached the rim of your jeans. His fingers got to work on your button, opening it along with the zipper, before getting up slightly to free your legs from them, sliding them down as he started kneeling on the floor. Down at your ankles, he pulled them off completely, getting rid of your socks as well before starting his journey of kisses back up again.

You squirmed more and more the higher he came up, making him have to move his hands to your hips to hold you down and pull you closer to the end of the bed to reach your inner thighs.

"Ah, fuck baby…," he moaned in between kisses, "So. Fucking. Beautiful."

You were brushing some hair out of your face, heavy breaths leaving your lips. You didn't even dare to look down, knowing you'd probably only get closer to coming right then and there with the sight. "Joel, please…" you whined.

"I know, I know, darlin'," he continued admiring your thighs with his lips before hooking his fingers into the side pieces of your underwear. He noticed which ones you were wearing.

"You know," he gave them a kiss too, right onto your pelvic bone,

"These are my favourite."

You chuckled, "Of course, I know. Why do you think I put them on?"

"Well, but then it wouldn't be right of me to just take them off right away, now would it?" He smirked letting go of the fabric and prepping your legs up on the mattress. His lips moved down to the centre of your pussy, placing a gentle kiss right where you wanted him, sending a shiver through your entire body along with a shaky breath tumbling from your lips.

Once again, his finger hooked underneath the fabric of your underwear, only this time, pulling the centre piece to the side, giving him a clear view of your sex, clearly glistening even in the dim light coming from the moon outside.

He didn't let another moment pass before he covered your slit in little kisses, his hands having a tighter grip on you once you started moving again. You were still enjoying the soft feather touches of his lips on yours when you suddenly felt the tip of his tongue running over your clit, getting a low moan out of you. You had to remember there was still a little girl in the room across from you - too much noise would eventually wake her up and you were not ready to have that kind of confrontation with her yet.

"Ah… Joel…" you breathed out, your fingers tangling around his hair, pulling slightly once you felt his tongue movements quicken and deepen.

He slipped around your clit, running it down to your hole before drawing circles around there as well. As soon as he was up again, gently sucking on your clit, you could already feel the arousal dripping out of you, making you shudder and hold onto his hair just a little tighter. He switched between focusing on your bundle of nerves and gathering every drip coming out of you with his tongue.

"Fuck," you couldn't help the whine erupting from you. You had to be quiet, not silent. Especially not when you knew what your sounds could do to Joel. You were confirmed of your thoughts when you heard the buckle of the belt on his jeans opening, followed by his zipper. Joel had to free his hands from holding onto you to get his jeans off his legs, dragging his boxers along with them to free his erect dick. But his tongue never left your heat - he was a God of multitasking and had proved that many times before.

Once you felt his right hand being placed on top of your abdomen and heard a deep groan coming from him, you knew he had started grasping his cock in his free hand. The thought of your partner jerking off to eating you out and the little breaths coming from you only added to the sensation that had been building up between your legs.

"Joel," you whimpered, "Don't-fuck, don't stop," begging him to keep going. His answer was another strong suck on your clit, and a lick of his tongue as he slid into you. The hand that had been holding you down was moving lower, still keeping you from moving too much, while his thumb had found its way to your clit, making sure to stimulate it, while his tongue was working inside of you.

"Oh, God, yeah…" you breathed out, uncontrollably starting to move your hips as well to get closer to the edge. Your moans came out higher-pitched as you pressed your lips together tighter, trying to keep as quiet as possible, while your partner was doing the Lord's work on you.

"Fuck- Joel, I'm gonna cum," you whined out, "I-"

"You can do it, baby," he encouraged you, letting go of his erection, to replace his tongue with two of his fingers, and going back to kissing your clit passionately while his right hand interlaced with yours.

"Come for me," he breathed against you.

You nodded, moaning slightly louder as the grip on his hand tightened, your hips moving around more. The tension kept building up, encouraging you to keep going as he moved his fingers in and out of you, the wet sounds echoing through the room.

"Come on, darlin'." His whisper made your body shake.

And after the last small whiny, "yeah…" slipped from your lips, you fell apart beneath him, tightening around his fingers, humming uncontrollably, and trying to hold in the moans and groans you could've let out.

Joel didn't stop though. He never does. He only removed his fingers to start cleaning you up with his tongue, not letting you recover from the orgasm that had washed over you.

You tried catching your breath, releasing his hand from your tight grasp, as you moved both your hands back to his hair, begging him to come up and hover over you, "Joel," you whispered, chest still heaving heavily.

With a smile, he came back up to face you after finally taking your underwear off completely, his arms resting on either side of you, peppering your face with kisses before stopping at your mouth. You could taste the remains of yourself on his tongue as he pushed it past your lips to slide over yours.

"I love you," he spoke quietly against your mouth, moving down to your jaw, making you smile as you pulled him to look you straight in the eyes, "I love you too," kissing him with just as much passion as before.

His right arm moved underneath your arched back, towing you into him as he sat you up on your knees. His fingers quickly opened the back of your bra, sliding it down your arms, following its trail to mark it with kisses. Once were boobs were free in front of you, he leaned down, getting to work on them as he decorated them with his lips. You threw your head back in relief, giving him easier access, sighing his name out loud.

When he wanted to feel your mouth on his again, he positioned his hand on your tits, engulfing them in the warmth of his palms.

"You're always so good to me." Now it was your time to move your lips down his throat, getting a soft moan out of him, while his fingers came to play with your nipples.

"How could I not," he got a hold of your chin, moving it gently so you'd be facing him again, "You deserve it," going back to stealing your breath and devouring your lips.

Joel sat down properly on the bed, giving you the opportunity, to take a seat on his lap. You let your hand travel down your body, between your legs to smear some of your wetness onto your palm before you moved onto him, covering his fully erect cock. He held himself up with his hands on the mattress, tilting his head back, letting the pleasure wash over him as a groan fell from his lips.

You pumped your hand up and down four times before you were ready to lower your head, but a soft grip on the back of your hair stopped you, gently pulling you back up, "No no, darlin', come on," Joel patted his lap, "Sit down." He had always been more of a giver than a receiver. Not that the hated blowjobs, how could he with your mouth, but he enjoyed giving a lot more than receiving.

You listened to his demand and scootched up onto his lap, not letting go of his erection in your hand as you lined it up with your sex before slowly sinking down on it, your hands coming to rest on his shoulders as soon as he grabbed you by your hips.

A soft but long whine vibrated in your throat as he started to fill you up, stretching you with his size. Your fingers started digging into his shoulders, making him hiss with a chuckle. His strong arms kept you as close as possible to him, waiting for you to set the pace and start moving.

You let your forehead fall against his once he was fully inside, and you started rotating your hip right away. Moving them back and forth to create some friction as both of you shared a round of low moans, kissing to prevent them from getting too loud. He moved his hips along with yours after getting to know the speed you were working with, making you sigh out loud. "Oh… fuck…"

Joel's hand came up to brush some of the hairs that stuck to your forehead, away, giving your cheeks a few pecks.

"You know, you get more beautiful each day," directing them down to your throat and the side of your neck.

You chuckled, "You're one to talk, dilf hot-shot." Your comment made the two of you giggle in chorus as you remembered him of the nickname he had earned himself at the last parent-teacher conference, which you found out, thanks to his daughter, who wondered what it meant.

He rolled his eyes,

"Oh please," he jerked his hips up to tease you, almost making you screech if it wasn't for you hiding your face in his neck. "I'll always find you beautiful, sweetheart, no matter the age."

His hand on your hair pulled you back gently to look at him again,

"Likewise, handsome," you smiled at him, gifting him with a kiss before your hands on his chest pushed him down, while you kept yourself up on your knees. As Joel lowered his body, following your directions, you felt his erection tipping with him, nudging the rough spot inside of you, getting a shaky moan from you in return.

Once he was comfortable, you braced yourself with your arms on the sides of his head to hover above him, continuing your make-out session. You felt his hands going down your body, finding their new place on your ass as he held on to it, keeping you still, while started to move his upwards. Having to pull back from the kiss, you released a soft sigh before starting to move against him, meeting his thrusts in the middle.

His grip tightened with his lips on you again, "Fuck, baby," he hissed, slightly picking up the pace. "Ya' gonna' be fuckin' death of me." You loved whenever his deep Texanian accent made an appearance during sex. It just told you, you were doing everything right.

With one last kiss, you pushed yourself up to fully sit on his cock again. He pushed his knees up slightly to give you a makeshift backrest once you started moving your hips faster. His fingers quickly interlaced with yours, giving you something to hold onto as you yanked them closer to you.

"Joel…" you dragged out his name in a hush, getting a groan from him in response.

"You're doing so good sweetheart, keep doing," he encouraged you.

You sat up straight, "Put your legs down," giving him the directions you needed for your next position, sounding almost out of breath. He did as you asked, giving you the room to lean back and hold onto his thighs, opening up your body as a sight to him.

"So good, baby," he moaned out loud as he put his hand to your pussy, after wetting his fingers with his spit, circling them around your clit, making you shake.

"Fuck," you cursed out, sighing along with it as you started moving your hips faster, now with the encouragement of Joel's touch on your sex.

His groans felt your ear, letting you know he wasn't far from his release, just as much as you. You kept moving, bouncing up and down on his erection that kept brushing your walls, letting you feel every vein on his cock.

"Joel, I'm so close," you moaned, which was all he needed to know before he freed his hands from yours, only to bring them back to your ass, lifting you up to change his position. You kept yourself up, taking a few deep breaths, trying to steady your breathing with the small rest you got.

He sat up on his knees, wrapping his arms around you again to lower you back onto the mattress, this time with your head against the comfort of your pillows.

Joel stayed in this position, making sure to keep you as still as possible in the tight hug, as he started snapping his hips against yours. His cock slid easily in and out of you, the wet sounds ringing through your ears as you felt his balls slapping against your ass.

You lifted your arms, your fingers desperately trying to find the headboard to hold onto as you tried to contain yourself from the noise you wanted to make. All you could let out were high-pitched whimpers and gentle moans when you could've easily screamed into his ears with the pleasure that was rushing through your body.

You could feel Joel's fingers digging into your skin, his groans only getting deeper as he attacked your neck, hoping to keep it as quietly as possible. The second orgasm was approaching you rapidly and you wanted to open your mouth to let him know, but all you could make out was,

"I- Jo-" as he kept on hitting just the sight spots inside of you.

He nodded, "I know, baby," breathing heavily against you, "Ya gonna come with me?" Making you nod hastily, "Yeah?" To which you nodded again, a whimper tumbling from your lips.

Your feet started digging into the mattress as the pressure leading you to your release was getting intensely more.

"I-I'm gonna c- fuck, I'm gonna cum," you managed to get out. Joel kept his lips on your neck, gifting you more encouraging words.

"Yeah baby, come with me," was the last thing you needed to hear before he smashed his lips onto yours just at the right time before you could scream your orgasm out into the world. Your fingers tightened around the wood of the headboard as you felt him shoot his cum into you. His groan against your mouth sent vibrations through your body, which was already shaking from the aftermath of your release.

As soon as he pulled back, the two of you shared your heavy breaths, sweaty foreheads pressed against each other, a smile of pleasure decorating both of your faces.

Joel started peppering your face with kisses again, making you chuckle as you still tried to catch your breath, just as well as he still was doing.

"I love you, darlin'," he whispered against your skin as you brought your fingers back to his hair, brushing them to make him look at you.

After placing a loving kiss against his lips, you breathed out, "I love you, babe. I love you a lot."

"A lot?" He chuckled, raising his eyebrows.

You nodded with a smile, "A lot."

With a deep kiss that let you know just what you needed to know, he was back gazing into your eyes, freeing your face from all the small hairs that had made their way to your sweaty forehead, "Well then, I love you a lot too." But you couldn't let him go yet, yanking him towards you for one last, passion-filled kiss, moaning into his mouth as he smirked.

Joel pushed himself back up, slowly sliding his erection out of you, making you shiver, and him chuckle before he walked over to the basket of clean clothes he had yet to put away.

He searched for the clean cloth he remembered throwing in, and once he had found it, he brought it back to bed with him. He was back to hovering above you, continuing your innocent make-out session while he started cleaning up the mix of his and your cum that was dripping out of you. With every swipe, you buckled your hips up uncontrollably, just enjoying the pleasure washing over your body.

After he got done with that, he threw the cloth into the basket for dirty clothing before starting to look for his boxers, standing up on his two feet to pull them up his legs. You crawled over to the edge of the bed, bending down to gather your underwear before looking up at Joel who was standing closer to the clean clothing than you were.

"Can you give me a shirt, please?" Already knowing that you were asking for one of his, he snatched a dark green one and passed it over to you, who had gotten up from the bed, legs still shaky, but you could make it work.

Once you had thrown that over your body, you felt the familiar strong arms wrap around you again, and Joel lowered his head to get another few kisses from you.

"Happy anniversary," he whispered once again.

You smiled against his lips, "Oh, it is a very happy anniversary, babe." When there didn't seem to be a stop to the make-out session he had initiated, you tried to push him away, but he wasn't budging.

"J-Joel," you giggled, "I need to go."

"Where?" He immediately pulled his head back, gazing at you in surprise, but you quickly calmed him with a soft hand on his chest,

"Downstairs to get our clothes. I don't need to traumatise your daughter on the first day of moving in," you freed yourself from his hug, "And then I have to take a shower."

As you passed him, he couldn't let go of the opportunity to get a hold of your ass, squeezing it, getting a screech from you in response. You were quick to turn around and hit him on the upper arm, making him flinch away with a smirk.

"Joel!" You hissed at him, motioning for him to be quiet.

He raised his arms, "You're the one being so loud," earning himself a death glare from you, but it only made his grin wider.

His eyes followed your form as you left the room before he let himself drop down onto the bed. He ran a hand over his face, not even caring to hide the smile that just didn't seem to go away.

You were officially moved in. From today on, he'd wake up next to you every single day. Sarah and he would have you by their side every afternoon after work. He'd be able to pick you up and bring you both home. Together. He knew now the pressure of the next step in your relationship would be approaching quicker, but he decided to put that thought aside and focus on the present - and on your footsteps that were coming back up.

Joel laughed to himself as he got back up, on his way to join you in the bathroom for round two - after all, he had promised you hours.

joel taglist: @corvusmorte

pedro taglist: @leslieelainetrask

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #imagines #imagine #smut #fluff #the last of us #tlou #pedro pascal #x fem!reader #hbo!joel miller x reader #pre-outbreak!joel #x reader #pedro pascal x reader #x you #one shot #domestic #soft smut

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racheyace · 2 months ago

Note

Do you possibly have a list of the G/t movies and/or shows? I've been looking for stuff to watch and would love to know what good stuff you've come across!

Okay so I've compiled a list from my poster and from more that have popped into my head as I wrote them down, fairly sure there's even more, but these are the ones I know well, if you know of any more please comment, I'd love to add to the list, there's actually so much out there when you really think about it!

Anyway enjoy and I hope I've listed at least some that you haven't seen before

Gt in media list:

Percey Jackson and the Lightning Theif (Literally a 3 minute scene toward the end of the movie but a great scene!)

Gulliver’s Travels (2011 Jack Black)

Gulliver’s Travels (1996 film)

Black Adam (The Atom smasher is a size shifter kinda like ant man)

Ant Man (Ant man and wasp, ant man quantomania, all three of these movies are great!)

Avengers Civil War (Airport scene)

Earths Mightiest Hero’s (Tv show featuring ant man and the wasp with great gt scenes)

Help! I shrunk my teacher (This movie is in another language however I have been able to find an English version pretty sure on YouTube)

Help! I shrunk my parents (Again in another language but should have English version on YouTube)

Help! I shrunk my friends (Now this one I haven’t been able to find with English version or English subtitles so if you find one please share, but visually even better than the other two in regards to gt!)

Tinkerbell and the great fairy rescue

Disney’s Thumbelina

Disney’s original animated Peter Pan as well as Return to Neverland (Tinkerbell gt scenes)

Ella Enchanted

The Borrowers (1973) A little old but super cute!

The Borrowers (1992) Pretty sure this is a mini series or at least 2 or 3 short films and it is great!

The Borrowers (1997) Classic movie, great visual effects, epic cast, amazing gt!

The Borrowers (2011) Another great remake of the movie, a little more modern

Alice in Wonderland – Whether it be the Disney animation or the Johnny Depp remakes, great gt scenes in this also, I personally like the live action remake

Hook – Oh my god is this movie great! Julia Roberts plays Tinkerbell and Robin Williams as an adult Peter, the chemistry and gt interactions in this are amazing!

Wiplala (Also known as Help! I shrunk the family though not from the same series of movies as the other Help! Movies I mentioned above) This is also found in a different language though English versions are available on youtube – Totally underrated movie and has amazing gt all the way through!

Barbie as Thumbelina (For a kids movie this has a super cute story and great gt enemies to friends vibes)

Jack the Giant slayer

Peter Pan (2003 live action) One of my favourites and I rewatch this a lot! Poor tink gets grabbed a lot sometimes gently and sometimes not so gently!

Honey I shrunk the kids

Honey we shrunk ourselves

Honey I blew up the kid

The Secret World of Arrietty (Another one of my all time favourites and rewatches!)

The Iron Giant (Again just amazing and one of my favourites!)

The Indian in the cupboard (So sweet with a lot of really powerful messages)

The Littles (Kids tv show and just all around great gt!)

The incredible shrinking woman (I personally didn’t enjoy this movie as much as I thought I would but still great gt scenes)

The incredible shrinking man (Again didn’t love this but it is also very old, great special effects for its time)

Fern Gully (Another all time favourite!)

Fern Gully 2 the magical rescue (Not as great as the first one but still pretty good as far as gt goes with more interactions with humans)

Epic! (one of the newer gt animations with a fantastic cast, didn’t like that the human’s move so slow but from a scientic viewpoint that does make sense)

Tom Thumb (This is fairly old and a musical, but has some excellent scenes for its time)

George shrinks (A kids tv show I grew up watching, all around amazing)

Jack and the beanstalk: The real story (Fantastic movie, though it may be a mini series, I can’t quiet remember but great gt again!)

Attack on Titan (this is an anime series, it’s also really good in the fact that one of the humans, well a few, but the main character can become a titan and helps to protect his city and his friends, now this show is not for the weak stomach, the titans are quite disturbing and there is a lot of vore and gore so fair warning)

Dinosaur (Disney movie – gt found family the tiny lemurs take in a dinosaur and raise him as their own, inspired my most recent story)

Transformers (There are many of these and can be hit and miss with regards to gt, but its there)

Sugar Apple Fairy Tale (Another anime, actually just started this and its fantastic in regards to gt)

Night at the museum (All three movies as they all include our favourite tiny cowboy and roman)

Robotech (I’ve been told this is great as it contains giant mech people and some gt scenes)

Land of the Giants (TV series, it’s fairly dated but well worth a watch)

Downsizing (Starring Matt Damon, I personally didn’t like this film, it had so much potential and just missed the mark but there is some great gt in it)

Monsters Vs Aliens! (I can’t believe I almost forgot this movie and it’s not in my gt media poster ahhhh! Amazing gt all the way through, one of my favourites!)

Dwarfina (Such a cute tv series, it is in another language but I was able to understand a fair bit, following the series on youtube can be confusing but it is so worth the effort, the story is so sweet with amazing gt and romance)

My little lover (A Japanese series, though I believe there is an english dub, I’ve heard there is a remake now out but I’ve not seen it, the original is fantastic though!)

Okay I’m gonna list a few more below, they all have the same sort of vibe, I didn’t personally enjoy them they were like on the cusp of pornography but for the sake of the gt in media list I’ll put them here:

Attack of the 50 foot cheerleader

Attack of the 50 foot woman (There is two of these, an older one and a remake)

Attack of the 60 foot centrefold

The 30 foot bride of candy rock

The Amazing colossal man

Village of the giants

#gt #g/t #giant/tiny #gianttiny #giant #tiny #sizedifference #gtinmedia #gtcommunity

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xxblairexxss · 1 year ago

Text

Saving your bacon

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x medicstudent!reader

Theme : Light on angst, more heavy of fluff

Word count : 3.4k

I feel like something’s missing but I’m not sure what it is and I don’t wanna keep this in my draft so I’m just gonna drop and dip. Oh, and I wanted to switch up and play around with reader’s personality instead of sticking to one so this time around, reader is more (idk how to explain) but more bright????? And I also don’t want to write her as someone struggling with her studies just because I think I have seen the same plot a few times around so let’s just say she enjoyed doing what she did. I know you asked for more angry Charles but for some reason I found him more of a people pleaser so it’s hard to write him getting angry at the crowd. 😭

Warnings, inaccurate medical term and procedure, as usual.

Requested!

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Charles was catching up to his favourite series, all sluggish and slothful on his day off when he heard your footsteps and humming got closer and closer to which he immediately took a cushion near him and laid down, pretending to sleep.

“Oh?” Your little skip stopped when you reached the living room. You were so, completely sure he was awake because you sworn you heard him laughed at one of the jokes on the television a few minutes ago. Stepping closer, you saw the way his lashes slightly fluttered as he bit the inside of his lip, holding his smile from exposing his little trick. “You are not sleeping!” You called out and chortled, quickly placing your medical files on the tea table before diving into his embrace, making him groaned from the sudden impact. “I caught you!”

“You got the wind knocked out of me, baby.” He moved a little so you could settle down by his side. “What do you need me to do today?”

“How do you know I was gonna ask for your help?” You cackled in his arm at the way he looked completely unfazed with your requests by now.

“Because this isn’t the first time. I just knew how your steps would sound like if you needed my help.”

“Yeah? How does it sound like?” You sat up and his hand snaked its way under your shirt instantly.

“Can’t explain it in words. Lay down or sit up?”

“Lay down! Wait,” You took back your medical files and scanned through your notes. “Oh, wait! No, no! Sit up and turn that way.”

“That way?”

“Yeah! And close your eyes! I’ll be right back.”

Charles had his eyes shut, sitting up straight facing the balcony of his apartment while trying to catch up with the dialogs coming from the tv series he was watching. “No way! I missed the important scene, did– ouch!” He jolted to the front when something cold was pressed on his neck, sending shiver up to her head. “Babe, what was that?!”

“Ice pack! Sit back down!” You pulled him back and placed the ice pack back on what you imagine the pain would be.

“It’s cold! Can’t we just pretend to use an ice pack instead of– cold! Babe, it’s cold! Instead of using actual ice pack?” You held him by his shirt to stop him from moving away while you repetitively went back to scan through your notes.

“Stay still! I’m trying to get these right! Oh, I need to move it in circular motion and never let it sit for more than 20 minutes on the same spot.” You leaned against his back and giggled. “I nearly gave you frostbite!”

“Are we done yet, babe?” He tilted his head to the side to catch your eyes, while still obeying every instructions.

“Wait, let me do one last check on the C1 and C2 first.”

Charles had always been your some sort of medical dummy ever since you started your medical school residency. You would always come to him whenever you needed to revise some of the notes that you had written as you went through different types of medical or surgical problems. Thought it looked more like you were trying to disturb your boyfriend’s peace, it actually helped you a lot. And though it looked like your boyfriend was trying to hide and ran away whenever you needed his help, he was actually excited to be apart of your dummy, claiming to be his some sort of contribution to your career.

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“Oh, this is sour! Babe, give it a try.” His face was all wrinkled up as he tried to feed you the fruit to which you refused. “Try it.”

“I don’t like sour berries!”

“It’s good though.” He popped another one into his mouth and shivered when the sourness hit, causing you to laugh.

“Your face doesn’t seem like it. I think I picked the wrong batch, baby. We need to let it ripe a little longer.” You sprinkled some salt into the the pot before letting it stir. Charles was too busy chumbling on the berries to realise that you had been staring at him with your arms folded.

“So,” You spoke and he stopped chewing.

“Why? Do I have something on my face?”

“No, but let’s say you come in with your nose bleeding.” You moved closer, half leaning your body against his side with your head tilted up so you could admire his pretty face.

“Ah, so we are doing this?” He pushed the berries away and propped both hand on the kitchen counter. “Okay, let’s pretend my nose is bleeding. What’s next?”

“And I asked you how did your nose bleed. What would you say?”

“Babe, I’m completely lost with whatever topic or disease you are proposing right now.” He hummed, eyes wandered away to think of an answer. “I would say “How I would know, doctor. That’s your job to find out.””

“Charles!” You bursted out laughing and he chuckled along, casually left a soft pinch on your cheek.

“I don’t know, pretty. What should I say?”

“Let’s say you got into a mild accident a few hours ago but you refused to go to the hospital because you thought you were fine but then!” You dramatically gasped and Charles’s eyes widen in amusement. “Then you started feeling blockage in breathing. This is one of the symptoms for?”

His lips curved downwards as he shrugged. “I don’t know. Flu?”

“Wrong!”

“Dang it, that was my best shot. What is it then?”

You giggled and stood on your toes to kiss on his cheek. Charles would always try to answer your questions though he never got any of it right but you just found it adorable how he never gave up because he said he would get it right one day. “Septal hematoma! I need to drain it before it collapses your nasal bridge.”

“Really?! Wow, never knew that. How do you drain it?”

“You are gonna fall asleep before I even start explaining the first procedure. Oh, are we still going to the event tonight?”

“What event?” He raised his brow and his mouth went wide when he realised about it. He was talking about an event a few weeks ago and you decided to tag along. You were rarely seen attended any of his weekend events. Even more after you started your practical and though he never said anything about it, you still felt guilty about it, especially when you saw his pictures at any events that you didn’t attend, all alone while most of his friends would have their partners by their side.

He was a little dubious when you told him you wanted to attend his next event. He didn’t want to make it seems as if he was forcing you to do something that you didn’t want to because he knew both of you have different schedules and accountability as a student and an athlete, or public figure. You had to reassure him that it was something you wanted to do, not because you felt like he was forcing you in some sort of way. A fresh breath of air was the reason that you came up with, professing that you needed to get away from your cases this weekend.

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“Are you sure you want to go?”

“I’m all dressed up!” You clipped on your left earrings and gave a little twirl. You had chosen a satin dress with crisscross backless as it would be the perfect dress considering the event was more leaning towards an informal night out vibe. “Why?You don’t… want me to go?”

“No, that’s not what I meant, babe.” He held your hand, wrapping both of his and your arms on your waist as he turned you around, making you faced the mirror. “You are literally the most beautiful doctor I have ever seen.” He stared at your reflection admiringly, giving a soft smile when he locked his eyes with yours in the mirror and pecked on your neck.

“Nice try, handsome but I’m not a qualified one yet.”

“But you will be.”

“Not if I fail my residency.” You spun your body to face him, hands on his shoulders as you found yourself getting butterflies from seeing his face up close, even after all these years.

“Did you forget how many times you made me suffer with all those on hand practices? It’s impossible for you to fail.” He stole a kiss on your newly applied gloss and left the room before you could scream at him.

“Stop kissing me when I got my lip gloss on!”

“Can’t help myself. Come on, we gotta go.”

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“Is this normal?” You blinked as Charles made the final turn towards the entrance of the club. There were tons of people with cameras hung around their neck gathered in front of the building. They would congregate towards every cars regardless of who it was.

“No, not at all. It might have something to do with the other event that is happening at the casino, I think.” Charles saw you clasped your hands together on your lap and knew what you were feeling even when he didn’t see your face. “You okay, babe?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just a little surprised.”

“It’s okay. I’m not gonna leave you behind. Don’t let go of my hand okay?” He unbuckled his seatbelt and was going to unlock the door, when he stopped himself. “No, babe, hold on. Wait for me.” You retreated your hand from the shotgun door as he hopped off the car. Charles handed his car key to the valet staff who greeted him as he walked around to get to your side. You saw the flash went off, following your boyfriend all the way to your side. Though the front windscreen window was half tinted, you could still see how bright it was.

“Ready?” Charles leaned in, one hand gripped on the door seal and other arm at the end of his car roof to make sure you felt safe and had the people blocked before your could step out.

“Ready!”

He offered a hand, while keeping his other on still gripping of the weatherstrip so the door wouldn’t be opened too wide. “Don’t let go of my hand, okay?” He brushed his lips on your cheek before moving away so you could step out.

The first few interactions with the fans were fine. He was handed notebooks, caps, and shirts to be signed. Even a few selfies here and there. You were gripping on his jacket, a little uneasy when you heard a few men with cameras started shouting and scream. At first it sounded far, as if it came from the casino so it shouldn’t be a problem to you. Soon enough, the shouting went louder as if it was brought closer to you by a wave and the fans who were asking for Charles’s autographs and pictures began yelling out to stop the shove and push. Charles heard the commotion and intertwined his hand with yours before making his way to the building before it got any worse.

The flashes suddenly went off to your direction and you could barely see where you should placed your heels, your free hand immediately tried to shield your face. Even some of the fans from earlier started to get shoved around, some even used it as an opportunity to take closer pictures of both you and Charles.

“Charles..” You breathed out, feeling yourself getting pushed. You could feel the crowd getting closer as you tried go get out of the way. He didn’t reply but you could feel his grip on your hand getting more firm as he tried to step away from the crowd.

“Don’t push!”

“Give them space!”

You kept on hearing the words being shouted over and over amongst the crowd but you still felt all closed up with them getting closer and closer regardless of the orders. You let out a gasp when you lost your balance as the crowd started pushing one another, causing a few of them to accidentally inclined towards you.

He stopped and turned back, looking all worried. “You okay? Baby, here. Hold my arm.” You regained your composure and held, more like clinging on his arm while your other hand still fully secured in his. It felt like forever for you to pass your way through the throng, even with the help of the person in charged because none of them even bother to listen and kept on pushing one another towards you.

“Stop it!”

You heard another howl from one of the crowd when you stumbled back as few people were pushed in front of you, the impact caused your hand to slip away from Charles when you tried to move away from the pack of people, your arms were pressed on your chest while you swayed back and forth from constantly being pushed from every sides.

“Y/N– excuse me!” Charles tried to get back to you but he got pushed back by the crowd even more.

“I can’t– !” He heard you called out to him before your voice was swamped with voices amongst the number of people.

You tried to wrap your arms around your body, feeling as if you taking up the space was the reason why you felt suffocating and squeezed up but a sudden shove caused you to jerk forward. You tried stop your fall with your hand but the impact sent a jolt of pain on your wrist. The pain made you wince as you tried to retract your hand but it was stepped on over and over by the number of feet around you.

“Charles, here.”

He was pulled out from the crowd and was being assisted, more like dragged towards the entrance of the building before he stepped back. “I need to get back to my girlfriend.”

“Leave it to us.”

“No.” He sprinted back out and tried to scan amongst the crowd. It got a little under control now that they had enforced more people in charge though the pushing and shoving was still going on.

“Please let me pass..” It took you a while to get back on your feet and tried to squeeze your way out when a camera was thumped on your face, causing your head to tilt. You couldn’t see anything else other than constant flash and light. You started choking back tears and dabbed on your philtrum when it felt like something warm trickled down your nose.

You tried to move away, hand kept on wiping your philtrum as the blood was still leaking down your nose when you felt a firm grip on your arm, yanking you away and out from the crowd. Charles had saw you in the midst and just grabbed on whatever he could get. The grip was harder that he had wished for but he needed to get you somewhere safe, regardless whatever force he had to use.

Your face was forcefully crashed against something hard but you were too beat to repudiate that you continued to cry against the embrace. It was when the familiar scent hit you when you finally realised it was your boyfriend.

“It’s okay, baby. I got you. I’m so, so, sorry.”

You refused to pull away, your whole body was aching but the stroke on your hair and the strong grip on your back made you feel safe, away from the furore. “I was– “ You sobbed. “I was so scared.”

He could feel you trembling in his hold, your head tried to look back to make sure you were really away from the people. “Y/N– Y/N, look at me. Baby, look at me. You’re okay. I got you. You’re okay.”

He leaned away but you could still feel his body latching against yours. “Fuck, you’re bleeding.” Holding your face in his hands, he started scanning through your pretty face. That was when he actually saw the bruise on your temple, your bloody nose and your flushed cheeks. When he caught you by your arm earlier, he was a little at eased as it felt like you weren’t harm but you were far from it. You kept on sobbing, your hand wiped on your tears that was threaten to fall from your chin. “Let’s go home, alright? I’m taking you home.”

Charles wrapped his arm on your waist as you leaned against him while he tried to get you to his just newly parked car.

“Y/N, a picture!” One of the paparazzi snatched on your sprained arm, causing you to shriek in pain.

“Hands off my girl.” He pushed the guy away, feeling so close to land a punch on that face but he had to hold himself from causing any scene that he knew would feed these people even more. Instead of placing his hand back to your waist, he lifted you up in his arms as you placed one arm across his neck, the sprained arm to your chest. He didn’t know you had any other injury because your hand was out of his sight the whole time.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

“Is your nose still bleeding?”

“I think so…” You dabbed the tissue that Charles had given to you when he got in the car and still found a fresh, wet blood stained.

“Keep on pinching your nose, alright?”

“Where did you learn how to treat nosebleed?” You tilted your head to the side and stared at your boyfriend in surprise.

“From my doctor girlfriend.” He gave your hair a stroke and pressed on the pedal as the light turned green.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

“Baby, stay there. I’m gonna get the first aid kit.” He left you and rummaged through the kitchen drawers. “Let’s treat your wrist first.”

You winced and pulled your arm away when he wanted to place it on his lap. “It hurts..” You didn’t think it was that bad but it still hurt. The tears started to fill your eyes again but you looked away so it wouldn’t roll down onto your already wet cheeks.

“Oh, was it too harsh? Sorry, baby.” He scooted closer and tried to place your hand on his lap more gentle this time. “Here. I’m gonna use– yeah, I’m gonna use the one with velcro.”

“Do you know how to do it?”

“Yeah, I have seen you did it to me before.”

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

flash

Charles groaned a little when he heard you placed all sort of stuffs in front of him. “Babe, can I borrow your hand?” He heard you whispered as you sat cross legged on the floor.

“Right now, baby? Let me sleep 5 more minutes.”

“You can just keep on laying down.” You replied as you pull his hand from under his head. He was laying on his stomach on the couch before you disturbed his peace with the first add kid and your notes with you. “I just need your hand.” He is still in the same position, just his arm dangling from the end of the couch.

“Like this,” He heard you kept on murmuring, as if you were chanting something whilst he was trying to get back to sleep. “and this,” He peered at you first with a frown and soon after a smile formed on his lips. “around the thumb,” You were completely focused on wrapping his hand with the compression bandage, completely unaware and thinking he was still sound asleep. He would always find the little wrinkles in between your brows whenever you were too focused on some things made you look so adorable so instead of dozing back, he was gazing at you with fondness.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

“I thought you were asleep when I wrapped your hand!”

“I wasn’t. Your little mumble kept me awake.” He rolled the elastic compression bandage around your wrist one last time before securing it with the velcro. “There you go. Did I do I right?”

“Yeah!” You held your now fully wrapped wrist. “I think you did it better than me.”

Charles had left you again to get an ice pack and you leaned against the back pillows. You were expecting neon lights and loud music before you left the house, not coming back with bleeding nose, bruise, and a sprained wrist.

“You okay, baby?”

“Yeah, just a little overwhelm. Can we cuddle?” He then took a spot next to you, ice pack still in hand as as you leaned your head on his shoulder. His hand is on your back while you propped your legs on his laps.

“How did you get those bruise on your head?”

“One of the man accidentally hit me on the face but I don’t think it was on purpose.” You were playing with his necklace when dabbed the ice pack on your temple, causing you to move away. “It’s cold!”

“Oh, so now it’s cold? Was it warm when you dabbed it on my neck for no reason a few days ago?” He pulled you closer to dab the ice pack back on your bruise. “Baby, stay still!”

“I’m getting brain freeze! Stop it!” You giggled and pushed him away.

“You are overreacting! It’s not even 20 minutes yet.”

✧.* general tag list! @i83andrew @cltrlne @karmabyfernando @ohthemisssery @ru-kru @tastebaldwin @f1obessed @love4lando @shinrjj

if your usernames were crossed meaning I can’t tag you 😭 let me know if you would like to be removed or added to the taglist! or if I missed anyone!

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 imagines #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #f1 imagine #f1 x reader

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ohsohoney · 3 months ago

Text

When it comes to love you're just as blinded.

Part Seven

Eminem x Musician

Summary: It starts with a drunk embarrassing video, it spirals into something a whole lot more.

Note: Seven!! Sorry it's taken a while, I've been busy with life and went away with some friends, but it's finally here! It's a long one too, so hoping it makes up for the wait. Also, I write music but fuckkk is it hard trying to actually rap, so this is just a forewarning to everyone seeing as there's a scene in this part that involves exactly that! Hope you enjoy it anyway:) Thank you for all the love on this series!

| Set in 2014, just after the release of LP 2

taglist: @thelastemzy

Masterlist

“What’s your favourite chocolate?” I wondered around the Twizzler I’d gone ahead and stolen from the bag he’d gotten at the 7-Eleven. We’d been driving for a little while now, just under a half hour if I had to guess, and between us we had already succumbed to three short-lived encounters with brain freeze, all down to the Slurpee we continued to keep sharing.

“Like brand?” Marshall questioned me, face wrinkling in confusion as he made another left hand turn, fingers loosening around the steering wheel when it righted itself.

“No,” I shook my head in answer, chewing on the red stick before I held out its end to Em when he tipped his chin in an asking gesture, “I don't know. Like, type?”

He had to think about it for a second, jaw working against the chewy sweet whilst his eyes continued to trail the length of road ahead. “Fuck, I don’ know. Like a Hershey’s maybe?”

I pulled a face at the reply, “Boring. Figured you might say M&M’s or something. Bring a little irony to the table, you know?”

Marshall’s head tilted sideways to level me with a snide look before he stole the next Twizzler right from out of my hand, “Hilarious.” He deadpanned as he took a big bite, “Come on then, Judge Judy. Tell me yours.”

Even whilst wrinkling my nose at his reference to the Tv Judge, I was quick with my retort, “Easy. Can’t go wrong with a Flake or a KitKat.”

“Heard of that first one.” Marshall mentioned, face dropping its previous snark as he pondered on my answer, “Ain’t ever tried it though.”

My eyes widened as I simultaneously turned to face him, ignoring the way my knee knocked against the centre console in my haste. “Oh, you’ve got to! It’s honest to God like Heaven melting in your mouth.”

With an unconvinced brow, Marshall just blew out a breath and shook his head at me. “But a KitKat?” He added after a second passed, “I don’t know. I mean, a chunky I could prolly get behind.”

My upper lip curled, “A chunky, really? What are you, twelve?”

Marshall returned the quip with a stupid look and then stole the rest of the Twizzler pack as a form of retaliation.

I rolled my eyes and it wasn’t long before he waved the topic away, claiming it was stupid anyway because Oreos were supposedly where it was at. An opinion which was strong enough steered us onto a whole new debate: biscuits vs cookies.

I was still fighting for my life by the time Em eventually pulled the car off to the side, rolling up onto a curb outside a strip of buildings that appeared to get a whole lot of use. “All I’m saying is that a cookie is a kind of biscuit, right? So what the fuck sense does it make to claim that they’re all cookies?”

We’d since come to a slow stop, so confused I pivoted in my seat to look around us with a slight frown, catching sight of a bar on the very corner, a stretch of offices sat on the opposing side, and a huge block building that had long been dubbed ‘Saint Andrew’s’.

“This some sort of convent?” I wondered out loud whilst Marshall simply switched off the engine and unbuckled his seatbelt. When I glanced over at him again I found him already wearing an amused smirk, one which seemed to brighten at my words, though he just shook his head at my question. It was then that he chose to jump out. “Marsh?”

I was left with the low sound of his chuckle just as the door clicked shut behind him, leaving me in sudden silence whilst I watched the man round the front of the car. Blinking, I could only move to follow him, undoing my belt and finishing the last of the Slurpee before my door was opening all on its own. I raised a brow at Em’s gentlemanly act when I climbed out to join him on the pavement, but kept quiet about it as he shut the door behind me and locked up.

“Thanks.” I breathed out before peering around us once more, taking in the noisy street and the rowdy crowd that was gathered inside the bar a couple car lengths away. “Will you tell me where we are now though?”

“And spoil all the fun?” Marshall smirked, eyes glistening now as he backed away from the curb to start up the set of stairs leading into the big block building that had caught my eye a minute earlier.

My face flattened, “You’re the only one having fun here.”

The grin he flashed me was cheeky and only lasted that of a split second before he was gesturing me to follow him up, tucking his hands away in his pockets when we finally reached the top step and came to a stop in front of a pair of heavy wooden doors that gave off such a retro feel.

Staying quiet, Marshall was quick to push through them, as though he’d done it a thousand times before, slipping inside and holding the bottom plank open with just a foot so that I could join him. I wrapped my arms around myself slightly as the door stilted shut behind us, the sound echoing out.

As I walked a little further inside, my gaze caught on the building’s lofty interior, a total contrast from both its outer disguise and what I’d first expected. It was a large lobby of sorts; four long tables were stationed in the very centre, a short stretch away from a snazzy looking bar detailed with ebony wood and warm lighting in the back, and adjacent to a set of stairs which led upwards.

I glanced back over at Em, who appeared to be watching me rather than taking in the room. I felt myself flush lightly under his gaze but quick to cover it up as I took another glance around, noting a different set of double doors sat on the other side of the room and a couple of sofas dotted around by the surrounding walls. I swallowed lightly before turning back to him, “Bit early to be drinking, no?”

It was a joke, a silly one seeing as he’d been sober for years, but one which seemed to loosen the atmosphere around us further as his mouth quirked upwards slightly and he moved to walk once more, nodding his head at me to follow.

Follow I did, eyes catching on all sorts of details the building had to offer as he led me across the room and through the mentioned pair of doors, turning away from what appeared to be the ‘main event’ (a rather large hall decked out with a stage and a plethora of seating rows) so that he could instead jog down a hall full of metal stairs.

The heavy door at the very bottom opened with a long squeak and although there had been people dotting the building here and there as we’d walked through, I took quick note of the small group which resided down here. There were only about six of them, from what I could first tell, the majority messing about with wires and other equipment by a platform stage whilst another two stood behind what looked to be a bar.

My attention was ultimately caught though by the two men bickering back and forth by the side of the stage, just in front of a DJ booth.

“Fuck you, man. I’ma do what I like!” The first one spat, nose wrinkled as he swiped a microphone right from out of the other man’s hand. He was a few inches shorter than the latter but didn’t seem to mind, nor care, about that fact as he practically tiptoed to better get in the guy’s face.

“Awh Jesus man, Soup! Why you always clownin’ around?” The second blew out, tossing the rest of the mic’s lead his way as he swatted at the air, “I mean, come on. You always tryna switch shit up when shit don’ need to be switched up!”

Soup? If that really was his name, didn’t seem to much care about his mate’s lack of excitement for whatever plans he had brewing as he fumbled with the jack lead and jumped back at him to defend himself. “I ain’t clownin’, dawg! Just trust me here on this one, this is gone bring a whole load’a new people in, D! I just know they gone be linin’ up out the door to get their hands on this stuff.”

“We ain’t sellin’ fuckin’ club merch, Soup. How many times I gotta say it?” ‘D’ retorted and shook his head as he turned his back on the other man to grab the rest of the equipment they’d obviously been unboxing.

“Yo, when have I ever been wrong ‘bout shit like this?” Soup followed up, unrelenting as he dragged the mic along with him, creating enough of a trip hazard that I worried when a young guy in a yellow cap swerved on past him. But it appeared that everyone here was far too used to the duo’s antics because the man in the cap skipped over the lead with an ease that looked utterly effortless, making it to the bar in one piece whilst the other two continued on none the wiser.

“How ‘bout every damn time?” D huffed with a look thrown over his shoulder, before he then sighed, “We stick to what we know, man. Stop houndin’ me with all this other crap.”

It was just as Soup opened his mouth to argue his case yet again that Marshall laughed from beside me, making me jump ever so as the noise rang out across the room. Heads spun in our direction then, most eyes widening at the sight of the infamous newcomer but mine were caught on the matching set of grins that Em was immediately met with when kicked off the wall he’d been leaning against, content with having watched the argument play out.

“Mickey, my man!” D hollered, dropping what he held back into the box to meet Marshall halfway.

“Thought I told you to stop callin’ me that.” But even with the snippy retort, Em was smiling as the two of them clapped hands, sharing a short embrace before Soup wormed his way between them.

D shook his head as he took a large step back, although the man was still grinning, eyes captured on the two friends, “Shit, man. It’s good to see you.”

Marshall just smiled before he turned to the shorter man and clapped him on the back, “How you doin’, Soup?” He let his hood fall back as he stood before the small group around us, seeming to become more alive in their presence, “Still mouthin’ off, I see.”

My own lips quirked up at that, watching the three of them from the sidelines. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that they had history, all of them sharing an easy comradery that I hadn’t much seen yet with Em since I’d first arrived, and already I was hooked on watching it all play out.

“I ain’t mouthin’ off, man. This idea’s the real deal!” Soup countered and he was smiling so wide that I could see the silver tooth that was embedded where his front left should have been over from where I stood. “Genius even! Could see it settin’ us up ‘til The Jam finally passes.”

I had no idea what the fuck ‘The Jam’ was but I had a calculating thought as to what the underground level of Saint Andrew’s supposedly was now. It was a little surreal once I’d latched onto the idea, in truth, never having figured I’d be standing in The Shelter of all places. The building was notorious on its own, having hosted a plethora of artists up in the main hall, people like Nirvana, R.E.M., The Beastie Boys, Iggy Pop, Blur, and Bob Dylan. And so I kicked myself for not having realised it sooner, the venue truly was one of the best in the city! Then again, I’d only ever really heard it iconically dubbed as The Shelter.

Marshall appeared to look back over at me then as he shook his head at Soup’s justification, grin softening ever so. I smiled back at him, gaze flickering over the expanse of his face, taking in what I could.

“Yo, come on over.” He said, voice travelling over to me without him even having to yell. The two men seemed to recognise my presence then as they turned to get a good glance at just who Em seemed to be speaking to. So, accompanied by only a little trepidation, I walked over to meet them, D eyes calculating whilst Soup’s lips pursed in an act of surprise, his eyes raking over me.

“Woo, Slim. And they claim you gotta type!” Soup all but whistled at my approach, earning a raised brow from me and a hearty backhand from his promoter friend.

Marshall just rolled his eyes, seemingly used to it, arm stretching out to welcome me into the odd triangle they’d created, an action I allowed even as his hand came to rest on the small of my back. “Ignore Soup, he ain’t never been near a lady.”

Blowing out an unexpected chuckle, I pressed my lips together before they eventually settled into akin to a smirk, eyes flitting over the two men. “Most would beg to differ with those pretty eyes.” I quipped, ignoring the man’s previous remark but filing it away for later.

Soup blinked at the obvious complement, seemingly dazed for a split second before he bounced back with a kilowatt grin. He looked between Marshall and D smugly, batting his eyelashes. “Y’all see?” He said, before he turned to me, “I been tellin’ ‘em, baby. But do they listen? No.”

D rolled his eyes at his friend’s antics, apparently done with him as he shoved Soup hard enough for the man to stumble slightly to the side, ignoring the scowl he got in turn whilst Marshall just snorted, the hand on my back unmoving. “You really gone dropped yourself in it now.” D chuckled to him, peering over at me with a sweet smile that warmed his face whilst Soup tried to right himself, “What, Mickey didn’t warn you?”

“Mickey?” I wondered, eyes flitting between the two. I grinned when Em groaned lowly, tossing his head back a tad.

D laughed at my ask, the sound bright in the shrouded shadows of which lower levels of the building offered, “As a kid he had these giant fuckin’ ears, his momma called him it the first time she picked him up from school and well, it sorta stuck.”

“Actually?” I looked back over at Marshall with an almost adoring face, peering past the brim of his cap to get a better look at his ears, “Oh my god, I can actually see it now!”

I joined D in his snickering after, muffling my amusement slightly when Em’s eyes narrowed a tad in a playful way, his hand dropping from my lower back to pinch my furthest hip. I raised my own in a silent surrender, but his settled there.

“Yeah, yeah. Eat it up.” The man scoffed whilst he shook his head at us, pointing an accusing finger over at D, who’d since settled a hand on his stomach to keep from bowling over, “You know I’ma have to get you back for that one.”

D merely waved the warning away, just as Soup slid on over to pipe up once more, “Ayo, you gone introduce us to yo girl then, Slim, or you just waitin’ on me to work my magic?” He asked around a smug smile, shucking the collar of his heavy jacket before he flashed me a flirty look, “Homegirl’s got a real pretty voice, too. Where you from, baby?”

Never had I ever had someone be so blatant, I was honestly unsure if he was just messing around in hopes to annoy Em or if he was actually trying his luck with me. A little wide eyed, I looked back at Marshall stumped. The man’s face had flattened a tad at Soup’s remarks but his smirk was still ever present.

“Lay off it, man.” D sighed before Marshall could say anything at all, cheek dimpling as he shook his head once more at the shorter man.

“I’m just sayin’!” Soup proclaimed before he spun back around to face Em, “A girl that fine is gone get snatched up real quick, man.”

“Keep talkin’ and you might not keep your tongue.” Marshall responded calmly enough, though it shocked me enough to have me keeping quiet as the man stared back at Soup unblinkingly, lifting an eyebrow at him whilst his hand continued to reside at my hip.

“Oo and the claws have come out!” D cut in with a whoop, obviously humoured by it all, but his response was enough to have Marshall rolling his eyes and for another small smirk to toy at the corner of his lips.

Soup grinned as well, hands held up in a placating gesture, “You know I mean no harm, Slim.”

“Yeah, you ain’t never mean it.” Marshall shot back around a low chuckle, clucking his tongue when Soup immediately tried to argue his case, rapidly mentioning a house fire, some sort of robbery that had gone wrong and then an accidental shooting far too quickly for me to really ask anymore about it, because Em chose then to speak over him, ultimately cutting him off. “You done?”

With a huff, Soup let up. “I was just sayin’.”

D snorted, “When the hell are you not just sayin’, my man."

Marshall shook his head at the duo and wet his lower lip before he finally moved to introduce us, although it was also in that moment that his hand finally slipped away. The lack of it had me blinking.

“Boys, this is Elia. El, this here is Soup and Drew.” Drew shot me a smile alongside a slight tilt of his chin, whilst Soup just wiggled his brow. Marshall continued on with a swift jab to the latter’s abdomen, ignoring the slight squark given, “Known these guys since middle school.”

I tried to add up the age in my head, forever baffled by the difference in education here to that back home. Em must have realised it too, because his next smile was wry and knowing.

“‘Bout ten, if I had to guess.” He mentioned just to settle the matter for me, before he looked back at D and Soup to explain, “Girl’s from London, they do shit different over there.”

I rolled my eyes, though my smile gave away to the fact that he’d amused me with his explanation. Drew nodded in understanding whilst Soup– well, he was Soup, “Oh shit! I thought all them talked real classy.”

My brow rose all on its own, “This your way of saying I’m not classy?”

His eyes grew huge as he realised his mistake, stuttering to correct himself and stumbling ever so to be sure of it, “Nah, no! What? I jus’– I meant it like–” He spluttered before he finally landed on, “I said you had a real pretty voice!”

Snorting, I let myself smile which appeared to ease the man’s evident worry over having offended me and had the remaining two snickering between themselves. He shot the pair of them a scathing look and elbowed Drew, who in return just laughed that little bit harder.

“Shut it.”

I almost felt bad. Peering back over at Soup, I eventually spoke, “You’re all good. I was just teasing.”

“Teasin’.” Soup seemed to linger on the word, twirling it over his tongue and around his mouth as he muttered the word over again, lower lip turning itself out in thought. “Dope.”

Marshall shook his head with a huff before his eyes eventually landed on me once more, I widened my own in jest, but the wordless moment was cut short by D. “Aye, you ain’t the same Elia that sung Sinnerman are you?”

My head jolted back ever so slightly in surprise. Sinnerman had been an early days cover, one from when I’d been busking in pubs way back when and of the few that had been filmed on a shaky camcorder and uploaded to the internet by some random patron. I hadn’t thought of the video in well over a decade, but remembered it had managed to gather a large enough viewing at some point that it had dragged more people into the pub to see me.

Fishmouthing slightly, I nodded just the once. “Yeah. God, yeah. Wow, you saw that?”

Marshall’s brow had since furrowed, watching the conversation play out between us just as Drew’s face brightened considerably. “Hell yeah I saw that! That shit was cold, girl. Remembered hearin’ your voice and thinkin’ 'she’s gone make it someday.” He told me, making me flush a tad at the praise, “‘n I was right.” He continued on, nudging his chin over in my direction with a thoughtful smile, “Knew I recognised you from somewhere. Saw one of your shows when I was last in LA, couple years back now though.”

I actually giggled at that, fingers jumping up to cover my mouth whilst I shook my head slightly, “That’s insane.”

“Hold up,” Soup interrupted, a bemused look marring his face, “So you famous too? You ‘member how I just said you was fine, yeah?”

“Soup, man.” Marshall warned around a put upon sigh.

“I’m jus–”

“Just sayin’. Yeah, we know.” Drew finished for him, smirking as he rolled his brown eyes.

Chuckling, I went a little easy on the former, “I’ll make sure to remember.”

Soup perked up at that, tossing the other two a prideful look, whilst Em’s gaze turned Heavenwards.

It was then that Drew turned to pick up the equipment he’d since dropped, the three of us following him as he spoke, “So what you doin’ down in these parts anyway? Figured you’d be workin’ or some shit ‘cause last we saw you was way back in December.” He threw a couple of cables Soup’s way, huffing out a soft chuckle when the man fumbled to catch them, earning himself a glare he didn’t respond to. “Made a fuckton of sales then though. Got me thinkin’ maybe you should show your face ‘round here more often. We all know those magazines don’t want it no more.”

Marshall flipped him off but came to a stand beside him, reaching inside the box to help out. “Still as unfunny as ever, D.” He replied, handing me a couple of packs to hold onto whilst he grabbed a few more, “Was showin’ Ms. London over there the neighbourhood, so I thought I’d stop in to see how you two knuckleheads were doin’ without me.”

“Hey we survived this long!” Soup exclaimed to him around a laugh, struggling with a mic stand he’d since dragged up onto the stage.

“Don’t I know it.” Drew murmured in a funny sort of self-suffering way that made me grin, “You take her to Cow’s head?”

The question had Marshall rolling his eyes as the man sorted through the packs he’d gathered, me aiding with the process whilst I listened. “Shithole’s gone be there longer than I ever will be, figured I’d have time.”

D blew out a chuckle, “Ain’t that the truth.”

“Red.” I mentioned, handing back the pack Marshall had attempted to give me, fingers brushing over the back of his as he dipped his chin in a show of acknowledgement. “What’s the Cow’s head anyway?”

“Old ice-cream stand on Mack. Used to use it during drivebys or to just deal. You remember Jimmy? He still works that corner.” Drew explained, aiming that last bit over at Em, which ended up making the man chuckle around a small tutting sound. D continued on though, for my supposed benefit, “But mostly it was just a place people got caught hookin’ up behind.”

Feeling bold, I was quick to quip, “And I paint you as that type of girl, do I, D?”

Widening my stare up at the man when his head darted backwards with a shuttered expression, Marshall could only snicker beside me. “Awh, come on, be nice.” He said, though his smile was jeering, “I tell you, Drew’s a real feminist.”

Sharing a smile with him, I was quick to look back at the man in question, who in turn merely tossed another pack at Em, who narrowly avoided it hitting him upside the head. “Asshole.” Drew sniped, “A guy dates one vegan chick and a brother never lets him live it down.”

“It weren’t ‘cause she didn’t like meat, man!” Soup added his two cents in, smile smug as he propped himself up on the mic stand, “It was ‘cause she didn’t - like - meat!”

Marshall’s loud laugh had me looking up, instantly invested in watching the way his eyes closed with the action and how his cheeks then appled. He caught me watching him when he lowered his head and rolled his eyes fondly at his friend, figuring I’d only been staring because I hadn’t caught onto Soup’s joke, “Next person she dated was this vampy chick who worked at Chilly's.”

My mouth formed into an ‘o’ shape before I was tittering away too, much to Drew’s obvious displeasure, the man waved the three of us away with a lazy hand before he carried on hooking up a couple mics.

It continued on that way for a short while, me listening to the trios odd stories and funny tales from their youth whilst Drew and Soup grew comfortable enough to ask me a little more about myself. Though both of them were wholly invested in the story of how Marshall and I met, Soup latching onto it before I could think about where the explanation might lead.

“Come on then, woman.” The man was quick to start, jerking his head at me in a sudden rush of enthusiasm as he jumped past the DJ booth, “Let’s see what you’re made of.”

My forehead pinched in confusion as I pushed myself up from where I’d been crouching down by an amp. It was an older model and the fuse at the back really needed to be resoldered, but it would work for a while longer. I looked over at the man and his newfound excitement, brows furrowing further, “What?”

Soup just waved me over though to where he was now centred midstage. “You heard me, get yo ass up here!”

I could only look to Em then and when he didn’t offer me anything other than an amused shrug, cheek twitching, I turned to Drew.

The tall man simply raised his hands before he shrugged too, smiling ever so sweetly. “Need to mic check anyway,” He mentioned, jutting his chin over to where Soup continued to stand, “I propose a battle.”

“Hell yeah, man!” Soup hollered loudly, already moving to grab a set of mics from the front panel, sending an audible squeak through the room that had most of its occupants wincing.

“Not happening.” I quickly shot down, shaking my head as I moved away from the amp– and therefore the stage.

“Why, you scared?” Soup prodded mockingly, earning a low ‘ooh’ from both Marshall and Drew.

“Terrified.” Came my deadened retort, before I chewed at the inside of my cheek, gaze flitting back and forth between Soup and the duo perched by the side of the deck. “There’s no way I’m doing it.” I added, furthering my previous answer.

“Don’t have to be long. A minute max.” Drew assured me, already moving to work the amp that the mics were connected to. My eyes widened at the move, flicking back to Em in one final plea.

“Don’t look at me.” The older man laughed, his blue eyes shining. “I already done did my time here.”

Way to rub it in, I thought to myself before looking towards the stage with a pinched expression.

One final glance between the three men and I knew I couldn’t say no, not without a fight at the very least, so I let go of the heavy breath I was holding and took a big step up onto the stage’s panelling, holding out a hand to Soup for the remaining microphone. “Don’t say I never did nothing.” I heard myself say, earning a round of chuckles just as D finished setting up and Soup started to stretch theatrically. “I hate you all.”

“El-i-a.” Marshall started up and immediately my head snapped over to find him stood by the front of the stage, hands circling his mouth. “El-i-a!” He chanted again right as a steady beat came through the overhead speakers. I felt my stomach flip and was quick to shoot the man a scathing glare, not that Em minded it, continuing to grin up at me. Smug as could be.

It was that, I supposed, which had me forcing back the bile that was now building, enough to try and shake the nerves away too. I could do it, I breathed in deeply, it was just a little fun. Nothing unlike what Danny and I used to do as kids, making breakfast whilst mum was dead asleep in the next room or off getting high someplace else.

“You ready, Limey?” Soup snarked, but it only proved to further stoke that fire that had started.

“You first.”

Soup dipped his head before he started bouncing it to the rhythm, torso soon following it. I tensed as I waited for his first line, sole focus on the man stood across from me and wondering how the fuck people did this in front of such a huge crowd. All I could do was pray that I didn’t embarrass myself too much.

“See, this here is a little white girl,

Who’s momma told her she could have the whole wide-world,

But just ‘cause she got Slim wrapped ‘round her fin-ger,

Don’t mean that my boy’s ever gonna ring her,

He’s a wraith, yeah, which means he never ling-ers,

Have her sleepin’ in his bed ‘fore he finds another singer.

And that’s not on me clownin’ girl, I’ve seen it,

He’ll wrap and tap, and then he’ll jus’ go ‘n leave it,

You cute and all but you ain’t nothin’ spec-ial,

We all know white girls ain’t on a brother’s lev-el,

So while you thinkin’ you out here makin’ it big,

Jus’ remember who’s runnin’ this motherfuckin’ gig.”

Pursing my lips to keep from grinning too broadly– an act to keep up the facade that this was a very real battle and that his words had actually stung me– I then booed the performance whilst the rest of the room applauded, a few laughs and cheers echoing out around us. “Alright, I see. That’s how it’s gonna be.”

Soup shrugged cooly, though his smile was wide and teasing. “I went easy on you, girl.”

I hummed disbelievingly, then looked over my shoulder at Drew, who nodded in understanding, moving to continue the beat. I sucked in a small breath and attempted to feel the rhythm, the way it pulsed beneath my feet and how it seemed to jump between my ribs.

It was a split second decision I made to glance over at Marshall in the next moment which came and although he stood surly, arms crossed over his chest whilst he waited for me to start, his eyes were watching, anticipating. Between us we’d yet to work on any real music and so I figured this could be my shot to show him what I was really made of.

I inhaled.

“Man, you know for a rapper I think you’re missing one restriction,

The same type they tell kids is in the terms ‘n conditions,

When they try and ride the big boy rides at the theme park,

Only to find out that they went and fucking missed the mark.

I mean, I guess you’re kinda cute for a– short guy,

But kings are made, baby, so I won’t spin you a lie,

‘Bout how it’s okay to only miss a couple inches,

‘Cause it's one thing height wise, but your dick looks like the Grinches.

And I know I should probably stop before I hurt your ego,

But with a name like Soup that ships since sailed, amigo,

Like I can’t help but wonder who’d your mother hate more?

You, or that motherfucking grocery store.”

A loud chorus of applause went up as soon as the beat dropped, leaving me looking back at Soup’s slack jaw in the stooped light. It was only when Drew whooped right by my ear that I realised he’d jumped past the booth to drag both Soup and I into his hold, shaking our shoulders hard enough to rattle the pair of us.

I let the mic slip slightly in my hold, arm dropping to my side as I casted a slow glance out at the audience, finding that a few more people had slipped into the room since we’d started the stupid battle. My chest tightened a little at the realisation but it was easy to let go of the anxiety when Drew was all but bouncing beside me.

“Damn, girl! That was cold, honestly thought Soup would have you there.” D grinned, looking down at me whilst Soup managed to release himself from the taller man’s hold. “You did anything like this before?” He asked and I had to shake my head.

“Hang on. You just butchered and served me up on a plate, ‘n now you gone deny not ever battlin’ before?” Soup spluttered, eyes wide as dinner plates, enough though to match his growing grin, “Woman, you don’t expect me to really believe you.”

Laughing, I tried to rally, but it was then that another body joined the masses, sliding in beside me. It was their appearance that had Drew’s arm loosening its hold on me.

“She ain’t lyin’. I’ve heard her spit a little before, I won’t deny it, but that was some next level shit.” Marshall commented, absorbing all of my attention. “You went in hard.” He laughed incredulously, eyes roaming over me as though he was taking me in again in a whole other way. I felt my cheeks heat but couldn't decide whether or not it was down to the sudden attention we’d garnered or just him.

“Hard?” Drew cut in, “Girl killed him!”

Soup shoved him as payback but it wasn’t enough to really trip the man. “I said I went easy!”

D hummed sarcastically, dragging it out long enough to earn himself another hearty shove before he then chuckled, “Face it, Soup. You got yo short ass handed to you.”

“Sorry, man.” Marshall stepped in before it could escalate and it was then he draped his arm over my shoulders, drawing me in enough to have me leaning against his side. “D ain’t wrong. Best hope no one breathes a word, otherwise you gone be fighting for your life in the next battle.”

I rolled my eyes at the sudden dramatics, and again when Soup’s expression troubled slightly, I shook my head. “I’m gonna say it again, I hate all of you.”

The words earned me a few laughs and the feel of Em’s chin coming to rest atop my head.

–

The drive back was made up of a dull buzzing tension, most of which emanated from me, seeing as I was still riding out the waves of anxiety I’d experienced throughout the battle and then after. I’d gotten a few nods of approval once I’d stepped off the stage under Em’s arm, Soup still echoing his previous sentiment of having gone easy on the new girl, and then a couple people's praises when Marshall had finally decided to head on out, claiming that we had places to be.

So he’d said his goodbyes to his longtime friends, with both Soup and Drew managing to worm their way into my followers list on Twitter and having put their numbers in my phone. They’d claimed it was so I always knew that I had a place to come visit if I ever found myself back in Detroit and so I echoed the notion, saying that they could have tickets to any show they liked and a tour of London if they ever made the trip. Something which had seemed to please Marshall, seeing as his smile stuck all the way back up to the car.

“I still can’t believe I did that.” I breathed once we were a little way away, The Shelter less than a dot behind us in the rearview mirror.

Marshall blew out a small chuckle, “Why not?”

Shrugging, I found that I didn’t really have an obvious answer to his question. “I don’t know, just not my thing, you know? Like I never pictured myself doing anything like that.”

He made a short hum in retort, “I get that. Still, it was a sight to see.” He snickered after, mouth lifting into what I’d label a sarky smile, “Doubt Soup will live it down for a while.”

I winced before eventually laughing too, thinking back on the entire experience. “They’re good guys, real nice. It’s been a while since I really had fun like that.”

Marshall’s head turned to look over at me, eyes lingering on mine. “Me too.”

The smile that took over my face truly was unavoidable and so I looked towards the passenger window in hopes to shield him from it. “You do that often then?” I asked once a half a dozen shop fronts had passed us by, “Drag people down there in hopes they’ll destroy what’s left of Soup’s reputation.” I added teasingly when all he’d done was gift me a look of vague confusion.

The skin between his brows slackened in understanding before he then shook his head, “Nah, reckon you’re the first.”

I blinked slowly at that revelation. “But you said–”

Marshall glanced over at me but was quick to hone his focus back on the road. “Know what I said. Also mentioned that it never worked out, remember?”

I did, remember that is. And immediately thought back to the earlier conversation we’d shared on the car ride over to his old home and how the people he’d let in never seemed to get why all this mattered so much. “Was that what Soup was on about then? When he claimed people thought you had a type.”

Em had to think back on that one and was quiet for a second or two before he worked his jaw. I wondered if he was reminded of the fact that once again he’d failed to mention that I wasn't in fact his girl. I didn’t ask about it.

“Nah, I guess that’s down to them havin’ met a couple of the women I’ve dated.” Marshall evaded slightly, confusing me enough to prod.

“What do you mean?”

He was silent for a long moment, but I allowed him it, figuring that whether he answered or not would be down to him. I wasn’t the type to force shit out of a person.

“After Kim,” He started slowly, already assuming that I knew most of it, which wasn’t incorrect, if you listened to the guy’s music then you probably knew more than needed. “Lot of the girls I was seeing were fling type shit. Superficial, you know? A couple models, other famous people wantin’ to hop on the wagon. Tried to date a few women who weren’t immersed in that lifestyle after rehab and my divorce, but it didn’t work out the way I’d hoped.”

I chewed on my inner cheek, pondering over the string of women who had been welcomed into Marshall’s life. Still stuck on the thought that Soup reckoned I was different to them just from looking at me. ‘Cause see, I knew I was probably overthinking this but I wasn’t horrible looking, had to be at least a little attractive to sell albums with my face on, but I was far from being that of a model. That much I knew. In truth, I didn’t even know why I was so hung up on the thought, me and Em were just friends, that was all.

“Still, I figured that maybe Kim just fucked all that up for me. Hard to trust, to let people in. ‘Sposed it was easier just havin’ people leave before they could fuck me up any further.” Marshall explained, none the wiser to my thoughts as he drummed his thumbs on the steering wheel, “Drew and Soup, they’ve been ‘round for a long while, before Dre, ‘fore I ever even thought too hard about rappin’. They saw me through it all. I guess when you came over they kind of figured that shit had to be different, I ain’t never brought no one ‘round here to them, let alone a girl they’d never met.”

I ran my tongue over my lower lip as I listened, it wasn’t a complete answer to my question— why Soup had figured Marshall had a type and me being far from it— but it was him opening up and I wasn’t about to spit in his face and get all prickly over it.

“Should I feel a sense of privilege then?” I found myself poking fun at him instead, an effort to get away from the handful of ideas that had started to plague my mind. “‘Cause I feel like I should.”

Em laughed, the gesture light, easy. It felt like the visit to Saint Andrew’s had done us both some good. “Fuckin’ right. Shelter alone is somethin’ I don’t visit all that often. D and Soup are just an added nuisance, I guess.”

“Shut up.” I chuckled in return, shaking my head at his words, knowing just how much bullshit they held after having witnessed the relationship the three of them shared. “You love ‘em.”

With a grunt, Marshall then shrugged around a quiet smirk. “Come on, today’s been all about me, I’m sick of it. Don’t tell me you ain’t got no mad stories about a couple crappy exes.”

It was an invite as well as a dip into a pool of unasked questions, a topic where Em didn’t seem too keen on overstepping. But he was right, he’d given me a lot today and that meant something.

“I don’t know what to say really.” I answered him with a subtle shrug, “Never really had an ex.”

Marshall almost came to a full stop with the way his foot stuttered over the brake. The action would have earned us a lot of loud beeps, maybe even a small collision if we hadn’t been the only ones driving down this particular side road.

“Shit, Marshall! What the fuck?” I exclaimed in one fluid breath, releasing my hold on the car door I’d gone and grabbed onto in my haste to stop my body from propelling forward into the dash. I fixed him with a wide eyed stare, “Why the hell would you do that?”

“Why’d I do that? Why’d you say that?” He countered, as if he was making any sense at all.

“Say what!” I asked him, voice shrill and still a decibel too high after the sudden scare, but Marshall appeared mostly unphased by it, having started driving again despite everything.

He scoffed, “That someone as pretty as you don’t have no exes.”

I paused, noting that the way my heart stuttered was very similar to the way the car had, suddenly and then all at once. But although I was surprised by the compliment, I forced myself to relax a tad, ignoring how my pulse jumped rapidly in my throat– down to the scare or his words I wouldn’t ever know.

“I don’t.” I told him point blank, hoping that the heat I felt in my face was just that and not me blushing. “I mean, I've had little flings and the odd date, but nothing like— I don’t know, nothing too real or long lasting.” Describing that fact was more than a little embarrassing, I wouldn’t lie, it always made me feel less than in a strange way.

“There ain’t no way.” Marshall continued on, unknowingly driving that particular wedge in further I supposed. “There’s gotta be somebody.”

I sighed. “No. But if you want a story, the last person I was seeing was this singer, we worked together on my last album, flirted, fucked and then went on a couple dates. He stayed with me in London for a while but ended up sleeping with one of my close friends on my sofa, so, you know.”

I let go of the rest of breath I’d been holding onto then, shoulders slumping a little with it, before I suddenly remembered the next part to that particular tale.

“Oh! And he also decided to dedicate the whole B side of his next album to it. Can you believe that? The B side, Marshall. I mean fair enough, write about an experience and what fucking not, but the B side? That’s just kicking a person whilst they’re already down, no?” I added, shaking my head in hopes to get rid of the memory, but no such luck. “He was the one who did that film too, um— I can’t for the life of me remember the name of it, but when they won that Academy award last year he mentioned me as the ‘one who got away’ and then thanked me for being the reason he was able to channel so much of his ability into the character.”

I actually had to laugh at the reminder, having been utterly fuming when the whole thing had gone down. But I guessed that enough time had passed since then that I only questioned the very decision I’d made to have let that arsehole and his tiny dick anywhere near me whenever his name was mentioned.

“Shit’s messed up.” Em blew out, eyes alert and flitting back and forth between me and the road.

Snorting in reply to that, I couldn’t help but shoot him a wry grin. “No shit. But yeah, I don’t know. I’ve never really let anyone get too close, I ‘spose. Just easier to keep people at arm's length than give them the chance to hurt me.”

“Damn,” Marshall said, “talk about daddy issues.”

Surprised by his words, a laugh bubbled up out of me, “Like you’re one to talk.”

Em’s lips pursed in an attempt to dim his amusement to that, turning the wheel with a single motion and letting it drag back over his palm when we turned onto the next street. “Still. It’s hard to believe.”

I gave a soft chuckle in reply, letting my head loll against the headrest so that I could bat my lashes in his direction, “Why, ‘cause I’m so pretty?” I teased him, recalling his earlier statement.

Marshall’s head shake was slight but visible, as was the tiny curve his mouth made.

I reached out to poke his shoulder, smirking now. “Come on, say it again.”

He swatted my hand away before I could continue on with my fun, “Anyone ever tell you you’re also annoyin’ as fuck?”

“Yes.” I replied easily enough, “No one’s ever called me pretty though.”

“Liar.”

I laughed, the bright sound filling up the car. “Yeah, but at least I’m pretty too.” He went to open his mouth after I said that but I beat him to the jump, “Can’t take it back now you’ve already said it!”

Tutting, Marshall had to shake his head again, eyes flitting over to my wide smile, trailing the length of it. “Such a shithead.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“What are you, two?”

“Maybe.” I shot back, pointing over at him. “What’s that make you then, if I’m two and you think I’m pretty?”

Marshall caught my finger with his free hand in retaliation and clung to it as he resettled his arm back in his lap, “Fuckin’ weirdo.”

“Least I’m not a creep.”

“Asshole.”

“Dickhead.”

“Bitch.” He quipped, eyes gleaming as they darted over to meet mine.

I shook my head in hopes to hide my growing grin, but it was then that I instantly perked up, gaze catching on the large allotment sat up ahead. “Oh, let’s go there!”

“What, to Trader Joe's?” Marshall voiced his confusion at the sudden switch in topic, though his expression was much softer than I had expected in the face of my excitement when I peered back around to look over at him.

“Yeah, can we?” I pushed, an idea now blossoming. “I wanna get some ingredients, bake something nice before Rosie gets home.”

Lifting a single brow, Marshall’s eyes flickered rapidly between my own for a split second. He was quiet before he eventually flipped his indicator to switch lanes, “You gone bake me a cake just ‘cause I called you pretty?”

A full blown grin broke out on my face at that and it was too hard to hide this one from Marshall, seeing as I’d been looking right at him. “No, ‘cause you’re gonna help me.”

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