#this realization brought to you by having to hold someone’s hand through something that I’d have figured out

[ineloquent-tumbling]

I am having one of those moments where I realize that, yes, I am actually much quicker at learning new skills and much better at extrapolating procedural information from finished examples than average.

[pucksandpower]

That’s Not My Name

Toto Wolff x wife!Reader

Summary: in which people assume you are everything except for your husband’s wife

Warnings: mentions of a significant age gap

The Daughter

You take a deep breath as you step through the paddock, clutching your pass tightly in your hand. The noise and energy of the Formula 1 weekend thrums around you. You’ve never been to a race before, and it’s all so new and overwhelming.

When Toto invited you to join him for the British Grand Prix, you were hesitant. This stage of your relationship is still so new — you’ve only been married a few months. But Toto was insistent. He wants you by his side.

Still, you feel out of place among the teams and journalists. You’re just a normal girl, plucked from obscurity by a man twice your age. What must they all think of you?

You arrive at the Mercedes garage and glance around nervously. The mechanics are bustling about, focused on their work. You spot Toto across the garage, talking intensely with his drivers. He looks stressed, his brows furrowed as he discusses strategy. This high pressure environment is his domain, but it’s foreign to you.

Toto glances up and notices you hovering near the entrance. His face breaks into a smile and he quickly excuses himself from his conversation to come greet you.

“Mein liebchen, you made it!” He exclaims, enveloping you in a tight hug. You cling to the solidness of him, drawing comfort from his familiar embrace.

“I wasn’t sure I should come,” you say softly, glancing around. The mechanics are staring curiously. You know how it must look — their team principal hugging an unknown woman half his age.

Toto cups your face gently, “I want you here. This is your world now too. Don’t worry what anyone else thinks.”

You bite your lip but nod, trusting in him. If Toto believes you belong here, then you do.

He tucks you under his arm and leads you further into the garage, introducing you to his team. They greet you politely, hiding any surprise or judgment. You know you’ll have to win them over, prove that you’re more than just Toto’s midlife crisis.

A sudden commotion draws your attention across the paddock. The Red Bull Racing team is gathered around the entrance, greeting their team principal enthusiastically as he arrives. Christian Horner is holding court, shaking hands and clapping shoulders.

You tense involuntarily. The rivalry between Mercedes and Red Bull is legendary, with Christian often attempting to get under Toto’s skin. You don’t know how he’ll react to you.

As if sensing your thoughts, Toto tightens his arm around you. “Don’t worry about him,” he murmurs. “I’m here.”

But you can’t relax as you see Christian look your way, his gaze sharp and assessing. He says something to his team and begins walking towards the Mercedes garage. Your heart sinks. There’s no avoiding this confrontation.

“Toto!” Christian calls out jovially as he approaches. “I see you’ve brought a special guest this weekend.”

Toto presses his lips together but forces a polite smile. “Yes, I wanted her to experience her first race weekend. Christian, meet Y/N, my wife.”

You extend your hand nervously. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Christian raises his eyebrows, blatantly looking you up and down. “Your wife? My, they do start young these days.” His tone is patronizing.

You blush deeply, humiliated. But Toto comes to your defense.

“I’d appreciate if you leave her out of our rivalry,” he says sharply. “She has nothing to do with it.”

Christian holds up his hands in mock surrender. “No need to get defensive! I just didn’t realize you had gotten hitched again. And to someone so … fresh faced. She could be your daughter!” He chuckles.

Your face burns. You hate Christian for putting voice to that thought. You know people judge you and Toto for your age difference. Hearing him joke about it so callously stings.

Toto steps forward angrily but you grab his arm, silently begging him not to cause a scene. He takes a deep breath, struggling to contain his temper.

“It was lovely to meet you, Christian,” you say as evenly as you can manage. “I do hope you’ll have a good weekend.”

Christian looks surprised by your composure. He nods farewell and heads back to the Red Bull garage, throwing one last smirk over his shoulder.

As soon as he’s out of earshot, Toto turns to you. “I’m so sorry about that,” he says earnestly. “Christian is an ass. Don’t let him get to you.”

You shake your head, swallowing back tears. “It’s fine, I knew people would think those things about me … about us ...” you trail off miserably.

Toto cups your face in both hands. “Look at me. None of that matters. He can think what he wants. But I know who you are. You are my heart, my present, and my future. No one can take that away, not even Christian bloody Horner.”

You give a watery laugh at his vehemence and he kisses your forehead tenderly.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you tell him, finding your courage again. “I want to be here.”

Toto smiles proudly and laces his fingers through yours. “Good. Let’s show them we’re not going to hide. I want you here, where you belong.”

Holding hands firmly, you walk with your head held high back into the bustling garage. Let them stare and whisper. You know your place is here with Toto. No judgment or rivalry can change that. This is your world now.

The Assistant

The day has been a whirlwind so far. After the confrontation with Christian Horner, you tried your best to settle into the hectic swing of pre-race preparations. Toto has been swept up in strategy meetings and sponsor obligations. You trail along behind him, clutching your paddock pass, trying not to get in the way.

During a rare free moment, Toto turns to you. “Why don’t you go exploring for a bit? Get a feel for the place. I need to take this call but I’ll come find you soon.”

You nod uncertainly. Venturing off alone makes you nervous, but you want to prove to Toto you can handle this new world.

You wander toward the garages housing the Formula 2 teams. The cars are lined up, mechanics hovering over them making final tweaks and adjustments. You watch them work, enthralled by their practiced movements.

“Are you lost?”

You turn to see a mechanic frowning at you. He’s from one of the backmarker teams, a lower budget operation.

“Oh no, just looking around,” you stammer self-consciously.

The mechanic’s eyes drop to your pass. “Ah a VIP pass eh? Who are you with?”

“Oh um Mercedes ...” you trail off awkwardly.

His eyebrows raise, impressed. “Posh. You must be Toto’s new assistant then?”

You freeze, the old insecurity rising. Assistant. Because why else would someone your age be hanging around the Mercedes garage? You want to correct him, but the words stick in your throat. You don’t want to make a scene.

So you just nod and mumble something noncommittal. The mechanic looks sympathetic.

“First race weekend is it? They can be chaotic. But don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it. Who knows, if you impress the boss, you might get to travel full time!”

He means it kindly, but his words dig into your wounds. You give a thin smile. “Thank you, I appreciate the advice.”

You turn away before he can respond, a lump forming in your throat. No matter what Toto says, people will make assumptions about you.

Lost in thought, you wander toward the bustling fan zone. It’s a sea of colors, supporters wearing their favorite team’s kit. You pass unnoticed, just another face in the crowd.

The roar of an engine makes you glance up. The Formula 2 cars are being pushed out of the garage, heading for the grid. You hurry over, eager to get a closer look.

A harried looking engineer nearly runs right into you, focused on his tablet. “Oh, sorry, excuse me.” He does a double take. “Hey, you’re Toto’s new assistant right? I saw you with him around the paddock earlier.”

Your heart sinks. Word has spread. You open your mouth to correct him but he barrels on.

“Listen, I hate to do this, but any chance you can help me out? My usual assistant called in sick and I’m swamped. I just need someone to hold these and stand with the engineers during the race. You’ll get a front row view of the start!”

He looks at you pleadingly. You hesitate, but his need seems genuine.

“Um, sure, I can help,” you say.

“You’re a lifesaver!” He exclaims, piling several tire blankets into your arms. They’re heavier than you expected. “Just follow me.”

He leads you onto the grid and you get swept up in the controlled chaos, focusing on not dropping the blankets. The cars pull into position around you. The engineer directs you where to stand and you end up right against the barrier, the engines roaring just feet away.

Your heart races with excitement. The start is exhilarating, the cars peeling away in a blur. You forget your insecurities for a moment, lost in the thrill of the race.

The checkered flag waves and the engineer finally relieves you of the weight in your arms. “Thanks so much for your help! I really appreciate it ...” he pauses. “Actually I don’t think I got your name?”

You open your mouth but a familiar voice interrupts. “There you are!”

Toto appears through the crowd and pulls you into his arms. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you! Are you alright?”

He notices the engineer standing there awkwardly. “Can I help you?” Toto asks coolly.

“Nope, we’re all good here. Thanks again for your help,” the engineer nods at you and disappears into the dispersing crowd.

“What was that about?” Toto frowns. “Why was he giving you tire blankets?”

You sigh, feeling the weight of the day pressing down on you again. “He thought I was your new assistant. He needed help so I said yes.” You shrug helplessly.

Understanding flashes across Toto’s face and he swears under his breath. “I’m so sorry, I never should have left you alone. I should have made things clearer who you are.”

You shake your head. “It’s okay. I don’t mind helping out, really.” But your voice wavers, betraying your hurt.

Toto cups your face gently. “No, it’s not okay. You are my partner, my equal. Not my assistant. I need to show people the extraordinary woman you truly are.”

His faith bubbles up your own courage. You straighten your shoulders, looking him in the eye.

“Then let’s go show them. I’m not hiding anymore. Take me where I belong, right by your side.”

Toto kisses you fiercely. “With pleasure, meine liebchen.”

He tucks you under his shoulder proudly. You keep your head high as you walk back through the paddock, passes reflecting in the sun. Let them stare and whisper. You know where you belong.

The Trespasser

A few months later, you’re starting to find your stride. Each race weekend poses new challenges, but with Toto by your side you’re learning to navigate the hectic world of motorsports.

The Mercedes team has slowly warmed up to you as well. Seeing how happy Toto is has softened their skepticism. You pitch in where you can — bringing freshly baked pastries and trying to make yourself useful. Having a purpose eases your lingering insecurities.

The Singapore Grand Prix means a sweltering heat that makes the paddock sticky and humid. The stuffy garage offers little relief so you wander outside hoping for a breeze. You end up in the fan zone, mingling with supporters visiting the various team merch shops and activities.

You chat with a few enthusiastic young fans, gently deflecting their eager questions about Toto and the team. Despite the heat and crowds, their passion for the sport is contagious and you find yourself smiling.

Toto texts that he needs you back at the garage, so you reluctantly leave your anonymous conversations and make your way through the paddock. As you draw closer to the Mercedes garage, you realize your pass has gone missing from your lanyard.

Your heart sinks. The passes grant crucial access and you don’t want to cause problems. But the garage is just ahead so you decide to explain yourself once you’re inside.

Slipping through the open door, you immediately spot Toto in the back. As you weave between bustling mechanics, a hand grasps your shoulder.

You turn to see one of the newer Mercedes mechanics frowning down at you. “What are you doing in here?” He demands. “This area is restricted.”

Flustered, you try to explain about your missing pass. But the mechanic’s stern expression doesn’t waver.

“How did you get in? I know all the team members but I haven’t seen you before.” His eyes narrow suspiciously.

Other mechanics have noticed the confrontation and start drifting over. You shrink under their doubtful gazes.

“I, uh, I’m Toto’s ...” you stammer, but the mechanic cuts you off.

“A likely story. Every race some starry-eyed fan tries to sneak in for an autograph or photo. You picked the wrong garage for that. Come on, let’s go.”

He takes your arm in a firm grip. Your protests fall on deaf ears as he escorts you briskly outside.

To your dismay Toto is occupied with an intense conversation, his back turned. No one intervenes as the mechanic marches you away from the garage and into the paddock.

“I don’t know how you got in here, but I’ll be reporting this. We can’t have unauthorized people wandering around restricted areas.”

You tug uselessly against his hold, trying to explain it’s all just a misunderstanding. But he remains stoic, unmoved by your pleas.

Other teams and drivers are staring now as he parades you past. Your face burns with humiliation at the thought of causing a scene or being accused of lying.

In a stroke of luck, you spot Lewis heading towards the Mercedes motorhome ahead. He knows you, surely he can clear this up!

You call his name desperately. “Lewis, Lewis! Help, please!”

Lewis turns, confusion clouding his features. But then he recognizes you and his brow furrows.

“What’s going on here?” He asks sharply, striding over.

The mechanic snaps to attention, clearly intimidated to be addressed by Lewis directly.

“I caught this girl sneaking around the garage! She claims to know Toto but it’s obviously a ruse to get access. I was just escorting her out.”

Lewis looks incredulous. “This is Toto’s wife, mate. She’s supposed to be there.”

The mechanic gapes, his authoritative air dissipating. “His wife? But she’s so young ...” he glances at you uncertainly. “My apologies, ma’am, I didn’t realize. We have to be vigilant about security.”

You shrug off his now-slack grip. “It’s fine, just a misunderstanding,” you mumble, face still burning.

Lewis places a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “C’mon, let’s get you back where you belong.”

He leads you away from the shrinking mechanic back toward the Mercedes garage. You feel tears pricking your eyes.

“Thank you, Lewis,” you say shakily. “I tried to explain but he wouldn’t listen ...”

“Don’t worry about it. That guy is new around here, still learning the ropes.” Lewis pats your shoulder consolingly.

You nod, trying to brush it off. But the encounter left you rattled. Will there always be those who see you as an outsider?

Lewis seems to sense your swirling doubts. “He was just new. The team knows you well by now. Stuff like this will stop happening once the rest get used to you being around.”

You want to believe him. You’ve tried so hard to find your place here.

As you near the garage, Toto comes rushing out, scanning the paddock anxiously. His shoulders sag with relief when he spots you.

“Where have you been? I turned around and you were gone!” He exclaims, pulling you into his embrace.

Over his shoulder, you see Lewis mouth “tell him” before discreetly slipping away.

You take a deep breath and explain what happened with the mechanic. Toto’s expression darkens, his protective anger rising.

You touch his cheek gently. “It wasn’t his fault. It was just a misunderstanding.”

Toto sighs, anger melting away. “I should have been there. I should have introduced you properly to the new staff.”

You shake your head. “You can’t be responsible for how everyone sees me. I don’t need you fighting my battles. This is something I have to earn for myself. Their respect, their trust … I just need more time.”

Toto gazes at you with so much love and pride it takes your breath away. “You are so much stronger than you know. And if they can’t see that, well that’s on them.”

He kisses you softly. “Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere. We’ll get through this together.”

And wrapped securely in his arms, you finally believe it’s true. This is your world now. Your place is here, with him.

The Nanny

The warm early autumn breeze ruffles your hair as you wait outside the primary school, keeping one eye on the time. Any minute now the bell will ring, signaling the end of your son’s second day of preschool.

You smile thinking of this morning and his eager goodbye hug before practically sprinting into the building, too excited to look back. He has his father’s confidence.

Shifting the baby carrier holding your sleeping newborn daughter, you smooth down your dress self-consciously. Even after years with Toto, you still can’t help but feel out of place at posh schools like this.

The other mothers eye you curiously. No doubt wondering about the young woman with an infant waiting alone.

You know some of them recognized Toto yesterday when he dropped off and picked up your son. Your heart had lurched seeing him cradling Leon’s small hand, both your boys glancing back to wave goodbye.

But duty called for Toto today with important meetings at Mercedes’ Brackley Headquarters, so pickup fell to you today. Not that you mind another glimpse of that overjoyed grin when your son spots you.

The bell rings and a stream of children come pouring out the doors. You crane your neck, looking for a familiar head of tousled curls.

There! You wave eagerly as your son breaks into a run when he sees you.

“Mama!” He cries joyfully, slamming into your legs. You stroke his hair, hugging him tight.

“Did you have a good day baby?” You ask as he looks up at you adoringly.

He nods, launching into a story about finger painting that you can barely follow. But his enthusiasm is contagious and you can’t help but smile.

A polite cough interrupts you. An immaculately dressed woman is hovering nearby, eyeing your son curiously.

“Sorry to bother you, but I wanted to introduce myself properly. I’m Clarice, Emma’s mum,” she gestures to a girl clinging shyly to her leg.

“Lovely to meet you,” you say politely, shaking her offered hand. “I’m Y/N and this is Leon.”

You ruffle his curls and he gives a dimpled smile before hiding against your side. Clarice’s eyes flick between you and your son, a slight furrow in her brow.

“I hope I’m not overstepping, but I met Leon’s father yesterday during drop off. Is his mother … not around?” She asks delicately.

Your cheeks flush. Of course she would assume you’re the nanny, not the mother. Bracing yourself, you shake your head.

“No it’s okay! I’m his mother. Toto — Leon’s dad — had meetings today, so it’s my turn to do pickup.”

Clarice looks mortified. “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry for assuming. You just look so young, I thought ...” she trails off, flustered.

You force an understanding smile. “Don’t worry, it’s an easy mistake. Our age difference does raise some eyebrows.” You punctuate this with an awkward laugh.

Clarice seems eager to change the subject. “What a beautiful baby!” She gushes, peering at your daughter sleeping in her carrier. “And so well behaved.”

Grateful for the redirected conversation, you chat politely about your little girl. Clarice coos over her sweetly.

Other parents begin dispersing with their kids and Clarice makes her goodbyes. “So lovely meeting you both. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

You smile and take Leon’s hand to drive home, his chattering filling your ears. You know curious parents will likely gossip about Toto’s young wife. But it doesn’t sting as much as it once did. You’ve grown used to the assumptions by now.

Unlocking the front door, you’re greeted by the smell of cooking. Leon goes tearing off to the kitchen, shouting “Papa!” at the top of his lungs. Chuckling, you follow after, your daughter beginning to stir in her carrier.

Toto is there to sweep Leon into his arms, smothering his cheeks in kisses as your son giggles. The scene warms your heart.

Noticing your arrival, Toto sets Leon down to embrace you and peer at the baby. “How was pick up? Any tears today?” He asks Leon.

Your son shakes his head proudly. “I made a picture for you, Papa!” He runs off to retrieve it.

You meet Toto’s gaze over your daughter’s downy hair. “It was fine. Just the usual questions about my age from a school mum. She thought I was the nanny when we first met.”

You try to say it lightly, but Toto’s face tightens, protective anger flashing. Even after all this time, he hates when people judge you unfairly.

You touch his arm gently. “It’s okay, really. I don’t care what they think.”

And it’s true. The opinions of strangers can’t touch the beautiful family you’ve built together.

Toto lets out a long breath, anger melting away. “I know. But I still wish people could see you how I do.”

He pulls you close and you lean into him, breathing in his comforting scent. “As long as you and the kids see me, that’s all that matters.”

Leon comes barreling back in, brandishing his painting. “Look!!”

You both admire his abstract swirls of color dutifully. “A masterpiece!” Toto proclaims. “We’ll hang it on the fridge.”

Leon beams under the praise then dashes off again in pursuit of a toy.

You and Toto share a wry smile. “Never a dull moment with that one,” you remark. The baby begins fussing and you gently sway her.

“Here, let me.” Toto takes her expertly and she settles against his broad chest. Your heart squeezes at the sight.

Toto meets your gaze. “I know I’ve put you through a lot over the years. The stares, the gossip … you’ve endured it all with grace when you could have walked away.”

You stroke his cheek. “You and our family are worth any trial. I would do it all again without a second thought.”

Toto leans into your palm. “Having you by my side is the greatest gift.”

You kiss him softly, your heart brimming with love.

From the other room, Leon’s playful giggles reach you. The smell of dinner being prepared still fills the warm kitchen. And your baby girl doses off in her daddy’s arms.

This is your world. The only one that matters. And you know for certain you belong.

The Husband

The morning sun streams through the hotel window as you sip your coffee, scrolling absentmindedly through social media. Race weekends are always a whirlwind, but you’ve learned to carve out small moments of calm when you can.

Toto is already down in the paddock prepping for qualifying today. The room feels empty without him. Sighing, you click over to TikTok, hoping for a distraction.

Immediately a video pops up on your feed from a fan account, the caption “so cute!” catching your eye. You tap play, assuming it’s another clip of drivers’ kids or someone’s grid walk antics.

But you nearly spit out your coffee when the video loads. It’s Toto, standing by the circuit entrance, surrounded by a gaggle of teenage girls. They’re prodding phones toward him eagerly, voices babbling over one another.

“Toto, what’s it like being Y/N’s husband?” One asks boldly.

You freeze, breath caught in your throat. In all the years by Toto’s side, you’ve never heard anyone flip the script like that. It’s always been “what’s it like being Toto’s wife?” You’re an accessory to his fame, not the focus.

Toto looks momentarily surprised, then laughs good-naturedly. “She is extraordinary,” he proclaims sincerely. “Being with her is a privilege every day.”

The girls sigh dreamily at his romanticism. Another chimes in, “You must be so proud of everything she’s accomplished!”

Toto nods, his expression tender. “I am in awe of her strength and resilience. She has faced so much scrutiny with grace. And now people finally see her incredible spirit.”

You press a hand to your mouth as tears spring to your eyes. After years by his side, Toto’s steadfast faith in you still takes your breath away.

“So you’re proud to be Y/N’s husband?” The first girl presses.

“Absolutely.” Toto doesn’t hesitate. “She is my inspiration.”

The video ends and you sit staring at the screen, cheeks wet. Never did you imagine your own fans, separate from Toto. But these girls look up to you, see you as more than just “the wife.”

Your phone buzzes with a text from Toto.

Have you seen the video? The PR team says you’re trending on TikTok!

You type back shakily.

Just watched it. Made me cry happy tears 🥹

His response is immediate.

You deserve all the praise, meine liebchen. I meant every word.

Wiping your eyes, you get up and dress quickly. Down in the paddock, you spot Toto right away. He sweeps you into his arms.

“There’s my superstar wife.” His eyes shine with pride.

You kiss him fiercely. “Thank you for always believing in me. Even when I doubted myself.”

Toto touches your cheek. “You’ve earned every bit of admiration. Don’t ever forget your worth.”

As he walks you into the bustling garage, mechanics glance up from their work to smile and wave. The fans hover nearby, whispering excitedly when they see you.

You no longer feel out of place here. This is your world now, as much as Toto’s. You’ve claimed your seat at the table.

Standing confidently by your husband’s side, you wave back, ready to take on the day.

[ddejavvu]

I’d love to see a jake seresin x secret wife au. The dagger squad doesn’t realize he’s married until Phoenix invites reader out to the bar with them! Thanks you’re the best!!

You're reminded just how little you know Natasha when she invites you out for drinks, and you end up at the bar adjacent to the naval base. You've been inside only once with Jake before, when you were still dating and he was going through training at top gun. Now he's a graduate, and the place brings back fond memories. You've chatted, of course, when she stops by for breakfast at the bakery you work for, but you've never discussed her career before.

"Hope you don't mind we're close to base," She grins, "My friends wanted to meet here, and I get free drinks 'cause the bartender likes me. They have this bell system to embarrass all the assholes here, and I think I ring it more than she does."

"I've been here before," You admit, tentatively grabbing her arm as she weaves through the crowd, "My husband and I came here once, a long time ago. I don't think the bartender was a woman, though."

"She just bought the place a few years ago," Natasha nods, sliding onto a stool at the bar, "Careful, don't put your phone on the bar."

You tuck the device safely away in your pocket as a brunette woman turns to you, a sweet smile on her face as she recognizes Natasha.

"Hey, Phe," She hums, and you don't have time to ask what the nickname means, "Brought a friend?"

"I'm Y/N," You introduce yourself, noting that they seem like close friends, "It's nice to meet you. I'm Penny."

You nod and beam at her when she offers you an identical bottle of beer to the one Natasha takes. You decline, though, ordering your usual instead. Jake's out with his friends tonight, but he's pledged to be a responsible drinker in case you need to be picked up from your girls' night.

"Can I get, uh," Natasha peers through the crowd, turning back when you assume she's found her target, "Five more?"

"Fanboy's got one already," Penny hums, taking four chilled bottles from beneath the counter, "You want help carrying them?"

"We're good!" You wrap one hand around two bottles, trusting Natasha to lead you towards her friends in the hectic crowd. You don't remember it being this busy when you'd come with Jake, maybe the new management really helped.

She treks you all the way over to a pool table along the wall, where a few men in jeans and t-shirts are huddled. You're taken by surprise, though you're not sure why. You'd automatically assumed her friends would be women, and you wonder if that's concerning. Possible internal bias aside, you smile at the men who stand to greet you.

"Hello," You wave, handing off beers to the two that meet you first,"I'm Y/N, you're Natasha's friends?"

"We are," A tall man grins, holding a hand out for you to shake now that it's not wrangling beers, "I'm Reuben. But you can call me Payback, if you want."

Natasha still has one of the beers in her hands, and you hear the man beside her, who she greets as Fanboy, mention something about the bathroom. Apparently you still have someone to meet.

You refocus on Reuben, "Payback," You tilt your head slightly to the side, "Is that a callsign? Are you a pilot?"

"We all are," The man who'd taken the other beer from you nods along with Payback, a burnt red mustache on his lip, "Natasha's is Phoenix. And I'm Rooster."

Your stomach drops.

"Wait, uh- Rooster? And- and Phoenix, and Payback," Your head spins slightly with recollections of Jake's crazy work stories, and you take a step back, "Are you- you're all stationed to this base?"

"Temporarily," Rooster frowns, "Hey, are you okay?"

"My husband-" You don't get the words out before he emerges from the bathroom, stopping dead in his tracks with a furrow in his brow that wrinkles his forehead.

"Darlin'?" He calls, just loud enough to be heard over the music.

"Jake?" You're equally incredulous, "I- these are the friends you're going out with?"

"Yeah, I-" He wanders closer, still at a general loss for words, "You know Phoenix?"

"Natasha gets breakfast at the bakery," You breathe, now that he's close enough to hear your dumbfounded murmur. You have an audience, but you don't care, not as Jake's confused expression melts into a sheepish smile.

"Well, small world. You look stunning tonight, honey."

"Thanks," You grin bashfully, keeping one hand on your drink and using the other to cup his cheek, tugging him down into a quick kiss. No matter how chaste it is, it gets a reaction.

"Oh," Fanboy gawps, "You're- her husband? You- Hangman, dude, you're married?"

"I am," Jake hums, ringing an arm around your waist and taking the beer from Natasha that she's too shock-stricken to hand to him. He pops the cap off on the edge of the pool table, bringing the fizzing mouth to his lips for a swig. He swallows, "Six years and counting."

"You're married to Hangman," Natasha- er, Phoenix repeats, "You married him?"

"Uh, I did," You laugh, twisting the ring on your finger.

"He never wears a ring," Rooster narrows his eyes at Jake accusatorily, "What, you're keeping her hidden away or something?"

"No," Jake scoffs, "It kept getting dirty when I was doing maintenance on my jet. I keep it on my dog tags, Bradshaw."

He brandishes the chain with both his ID and wedding band on it, and Rooster takes a swig of beer in response.

"How the hell was I supposed to know that, man? I don't stare at your chest in the locker room."

"Well you're missin' out," Jake drawls, turning to grin at you, "Ain't that right, honey?"

"Jake," You hiss, "Not here!'

"Oh, don't get all fussy. Most of these guys have seen my dick," He waves a dismissive hand in the air, nearly spilling his beer. You swear you hear someone mumble, 'unfortunately', but Jake drowns them out, "They don't care if we flirt. Hey, whaddya say we sharpen up those pool skills of yours?"

"Alright," You nod, letting him lead you over to the table, "Natasha, can you hold my drink?"

She takes it like it's her duty to protect you, even though your big strong husband has just bent you over the pool table. It takes you a few tries to be able to hit the ball at all with your clumsy grip on the cue, but when it finally cascades the colorful targets around the table, Jake whoops, landing a congratulatory smack to your ass that his friends groan at.

"Nice goin', darlin'. Gonna beat Bradshaw into the ground in no time."

[ajortga]

affection deprived

pairing: jenna ortega x fem reader

authors note: i do not like this but hopefully you do, please send more requests

word count: 1.5k+

-

based off this request!

-

where r asks emma to hold jenna's hand to see if she notices and the second emma held jennas hand she immediately knew it wasnt r's hand

-🥝

It was another filming day. You come in at least 4 times a week, rather if it’s to run a scene over, hair and makeup, a chemistry read or checking on costumes. 

As you get on set, you grab a coffee (that always manages to go untouched and goes cold) while playing a thumb war with your best friend, Emma Myers.

“Do they have strawberries today?” You ask while having your tongue slightly stuck out in concentration. “I don’t know where they get them from, but they’re always so perfectly sweet.”

Emma giggles, trapping your thumb as you squeal. “Gotcha! 1..2.. I think they do, I saw watermelons too if I remember correctly. 3… 4..”

You giggle, huffing when she wins the match. “At least those will make my day. Hey, your hands are so soft.” You begin playing with her hands, admiring how squishy they are.

“Thanks, babycakes,” the blonde jokes, holding your hand as you both swing back and forth while walking through set.

If anything, holding hands makes you think of Jenna. You haven’t been cuddly with her at the moment. You think it’s because she’s so caught up in work and how you always seem to hold her hand, that she doesn’t notice when you’re not. It’s like everywhere you go she automatically thinks her hands are intertwined with your warm ones.

“Hey, Emma. I wanted to ask you something,” you say, glancing into the distance as you see your girlfriend unaware of your presence far away, talking to one of the directors.

“What is it? You need me to help you with something?”

You nod, tearing your eyes away from the ones that weren’t looking at you to the ones that were. “You think you could help me out in trying to cast some spell on Jenna to make her realize that I miss her touches?”

“Oh yes.” The blonde says, making a small ‘pshhhh’ sound as she takes out her invisible wand. “Jenna Marie Ortega, I command you to snap out of your acting character and recognize your girlfriend’s needs!” She says, swaying up and down.

Your eyes roll, watching her be silly and take the opportunity to snap a photo. “Uh huh. I don’t know.. Okay. Jenna and I used to do this thing where I’d sneak under the table and cling onto her hand. It’s just been something that we’ve done ever since.”

In your relationship, you were the sucker for the people who knew you inside and out. Jenna was just that person. She’d rub your knuckles gently in a circle with her thumb whenever you grew nervous, always came home from her other film projects with something you’d like. 

Obviously she still does, you’ve just been feeling like you’ve had the lack of affection. “Which makes you grumpy,” Emma would say. You would sulk before filming a scene and Jenna would’ve noticed if hadn’t a distraction popped up. It was almost like you could see the small puzzles in her head would begin to turn then be interrupted. 

“So.. How is me holding your girlfriend’s hand going to do anything?”

“Hopefully it makes her notice how AFFECTION DEPRIVED I AM!” You almost yell. If she really thought Emma’s hand was really yours, you think you’d break up with her. (You would never be the one to break up first.)

-

It was Friday night. Some would say it was the night to party all night long. 

They were true.

Almost every Friday the Wednesday cast would gather at someone’s house, preferably Georgie’s because he had a trampoline and some dope snacks. You didn’t want to admit that when you and Jenna first saw how many good snacks he had, you slammed them into your bag. Jenna brought an extra tote bag smashed under the things in her backpack to push all the snacks in there the next time you went to Georgie’s house.

You stare down at your hand, chatter filling the room as everyone talks while eating. You wonder if it’s any special. You’re not sure why it matters so much to you. It's just like every other hand, right?

No one knows you better than Jenna, maybe you should just be straightforward with her and the lack of affection you’ve been feeling lately. 

“Ems?” You holler, looking around. You find her on the couch across from your girlfriend, in a deep conversation with each other.

And when Jenna turns to you with those sweet brown eyes, you feel like the happy giddy feeling in your chest. The feeling that lingered when you had a silly, puppy loved crush on the girl for the first time. You were a bundle of nerves, squeaking whenever you talked to her, cheeks flushing easily. 

And she was yours. Except that feeling just popped up again. Your eyes dart the room, opening your mouth to say something, then shutting it. Instead, you give an awkward wave and run out.

Jenna gave you a smile, eyebrows furrowing as she watched you dash out.

“I think my baby is scared of me.”

Emma rolls her eyes, looking at you go, “An affection deprived baby.”

-

“Okay Agent Double Two x Five thousand and Sixty Two, it’s time.” You whisper, you and the blonde eyeing the target in front of you.

Like two partners in crime.

“Roger that.”

Emma crawls under the table and you almost break your facade, a silly smile threatening to plaster on your lips as you see her bump her head on accident. You can see Jenna, talking to Hunter as she brings her drink to her lips. 

You look away, looking down at Emma’s current journey.

As she keeps talking, Emma counts the hands to be able to reach the right one. She approaches the brunette, where her hands are against her lap, and lightly taps it. A stupid grin forms on your face when you see your girlfriend’s face contort into confusion.

Jenna processes what’s going on as her hands roam around. She lightly catches the hand and feels it. Assuming it was you, she intertwined her hand with yours.

It doesn’t take 10 seconds before she feels like something is out of place. The hand is soft, but it’s too soft. Yours is just the perfect amount of soft. She rubs her thumb over the person’s knuckles and the pattern isn’t familiar.

She immediately tugs her hand away and looks under the table to see a goofy Emma Myers looking back.

“Emma? What the hell are you doing under there?”

“I was actually looking for my ball that I dropped.” Emma backs herself up, shoving her hand into her pocket and bringing up a neon green ball with a smiley face. “Oh wow! It was here all along! Thanks!” 

The blonde crawls out as the other girl blinks and watches her walk off. Something about realizing it wasn’t you made Jenna feel disappointed. She hasn’t held your hand whenever you nudged it while walking down the streets together. She’d brush it off thinking that you did it by accident. 

The events of the endless hours of filming caught up to her, she had been neglecting you with her lack of affection. All the signs were in front of her, yet she didn’t notice.

She excuses herself and looks around for you, peeking her head into the living room to see you scrolling through your phone.

“Hey, cutie. I missed you.” The brunette says softly, catching your attention as she squeezes next to you. You don’t respond, making grabby arms. She almost feels how twitchy you are as you cling onto her, her fingers thread through your hair, hoping she can make you feel a little better.

Your hands touch something soft and you feel hers nudging into yours. The perfect amount of softness. She didn’t realize how much she missed your touch until you’re curled up to her like a koala.

“I’m sorry I’ve been neglecting your affection needs. I just feel like filming messes with my surroundings. I would never do it on purpose, okay?”

God you missed her. You missed her cuddles. You missed her hugs. You missed-

“Y/N.”

“You swear?”

“I’ll swear on.. I don’t know!”

She wraps her arms around you tightly, lifting you up on her lap as she presses her lips to your cheek. "I want you to tell me whenever you feel this way, okay? I can’t survive knowing that I let you feel a certain way you don’t like and I don’t even notice.”

“Okay. I will, I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to think that I’m too affectionate.”

“Never.”

A small grin comes upon your lips, “Now can you teach me how to distinguish people’s hands?”

For the rest of the night, Jenna lets her scent comfort you, your hand laced in hers for almost the rest of the party. When you see Emma, you give her a goofy smile and a thumbs up. She grins and does a two finger salute.

Let’s just say that all the days after, you were woken up with kisses and hugs, and definitely a bit too spoiled on set with a showered affectionate girlfriend. She even tied your shoes. Maybe it was too much, but you didn’t want anything less. Too much made you feel like the happiest girl in the world.

[gayeddieagenda]

❤️ 🎵 Number 9 if you’re still doing the prompts? thank you!! I hope you’re having a good day!

another scene prompt game! - 9: listening to the other’s heartbeat + ❤️ 🎵

--

“Huh,” Buck says.

Eddie knocks his ankle against Buck’s. “What?”

“I’m not trying to freak you out,” Buck says. He has his serious face on and that, more than anything, makes Eddie squint at him, suspicious. “When was the last time you went to the doctor?”

“Buck,” Eddie says. “I had a checkup a month ago, jackass.”

“Texas doctors?” Buck says skeptically. Eddie huffs at him. Buck adjusts his grip on Eddie’s arm, pressing his index and middle fingers more firmly into Eddie’s wrist. “It’s probably nothing. It’s just, I can’t find your pulse.”

Eddie rolls his eyes up to the ceiling. “Jesus Christ, Buck!”

“I’m being serious!” Buck tries another spot on Eddie’s wrist, then another, shaking his head both times: nothing. “You should definitely have a pulse.”

“Oh, no,” Eddie says, deadpan. “What if I’m already dead?”

Six months. Eddie waited six months to see Buck in person again. Buck had made a noise like a dying animal on the phone, when they realized that he was going to be in the first hour of a 48-hour shift when Eddie and Chris got in from Texas.

Then, when Bobby asked if Eddie wanted to be scheduled for the last 24 hours of the same shift or wait four more days until his first shift back, Eddie signed on for the earlier shift without thinking twice about it. It meant not waiting a second longer to be back where he belongs—at the 118, on the job. It also meant this: seeing Buck for the first time since…since Texas, since everything, surrounded by all their coworkers.

“Don’t worry,” Buck says. “I have something else I can try.”

Buck releases Eddie’s hand. Eddie draws his arm back to his body, unconsciously reaching his other hand up to grip his wrist where Buck’s hand had been holding him a second ago.

Buck gestures at Eddie’s neck. “Can I—”

“Go ahead.”

“I don’t want to say it,” Buck said. His voice was low and frustrated through the phone. “Not like this.”

“Sorry,” Eddie said, feeling furious, feeling lightheaded. Feeling alone, in a silent Texas house three sizes too big for him. “This is it. I’m here. You’re there. If you’re pissed at me, I’d rather you just tell me.”

Buck reaches for the collar of Eddie’s turnouts. He peels back the velcro strip covering the neck, then undoes the top snaps—one, two, three. He hooks two fingers of one hand on Eddie’s chin, tilting his head back. Sets two fingers of his other hand on Eddie’s neck, just below his jaw, in the divot just behind his trachea, just in front of the muscle.

It’s stupid. Eddie’s fine. He fell down, that’s all. He was rounding a corner to get back to the engine when a kid came sprinting around the other side, running at full force. She ran headfirst into his stomach and they both went sprawling on the grass. Buck caught up to them first, checking over the kid and giving her a sticker after telling her she should consider a career in wrestling. Eddie pushed himself up from the ground, angling to sneak back to the engine and drop off his gear. Buck caught his arm, giving him a where do you think you’re going? look.

So, now they’re here. Sitting in the back of the ambulance, parked in South Pasadena at two in the morning, Chimney’s classic rock radio station still playing quietly from the front seats. The kitchen fire that called them out was put out half an hour ago, but when the upstairs neighbor cracked his door to figure out what had brought a fire truck to his driveway, his cat bolted. Chim spotted her up a tree in the backyard—literally, a cat stuck in a tree. It doesn’t get much more stereotypical than that.

Chimney’s got it handled, apparently, though it’s been twenty minutes and he and the cat are both still in the tree. Eventually, he’s going to get the cat down or some new emergency will materialize from nothing and someone will come looking for Buck and Eddie—but for now, for a minute, they’re alone.

The pads of Buck’s fingers are gentle on the side of Eddie’s neck. His hands are warm. Buck presses in, just enough pressure on Eddie’s throat for him to feel it.

He’s looking Eddie in the eye while he touches him. Eddie looks back. He takes in a slow breath, feeling his throat expand under Buck’s hand. Watches Buck blink back at him. They’re so close like this, Eddie can see where Buck missed a spot shaving just below his sideburns, where Buck’s hair dried flat to his head when he had to pull on his helmet straight out of the shower. He can see where his eyes are crinkling at the corners, like he’s trying to hold back a smile.

“Nope,” Buck says. “Still nothing.”

“Oh, no,” Eddie says dryly. “Do you need to start CPR?”

“I’m sure I can think of something else before it comes to that.”

“I’m not taking off my pants for you to check my femoral.”

“I wasn’t going to do that, Eddie. We’re at work.”

Buck takes his hand off Eddie’s neck. Eddie misses it immediately.

He backs up a little, as far as he can get in the cramped quarters of the ambulance. He rests his hands on his hips, giving Eddie an assessing look.

“I’m not pissed at you,” Buck said, voice low. “That’s why I don’t want to have this conversation now.”

“When do you want to have it?” Eddie asked. He’s angry, and he’s picking a fight, and he can’t stop himself, when this is how he gets to talk to Buck now: in broken halves of conversations, eight hundred miles away. “When you visit in six months? When Chris graduates high school in four years?”

“Come on,” Buck said. “That’s not fair.”

“Then tell me why you’re mad at me.”

“Would you like my opinion?” Eddie asks.

“Pretty sure I’m the firefighter here, thanks.”

Eddie rolls his eyes up to the ceiling. “Didn’t realize.”

“Here,” Buck says.

His hands are back on Eddie’s jacket, undoing the rest of the snaps and opening his jacket. He hooks a hand in Eddie’s suspenders, pulling lightly at them, adjusting Eddie until he’s sitting on the edge of the gurney, knees between Buck’s legs. Eddie goes easily.

Buck places a hand on Eddie’s chest, above his heart.

They’re at work, Eddie reminds himself. It’s two in the morning and it’s Pasadena, it’s the distant sound of Chimney going here, kitty-kitty, and the low hum of the radio.

Buck glances at the ambulance doors. They left them open a crack, but all they can see through the gap is the empty street, cast in yellow and red from the streetlamps and the fire engine lights. No one’s looking for them.

Buck turns back to Eddie. He leans in in one movement, replacing his hand with his ear to Eddie’s chest.

It’s awkward, kind of. The ambulance isn’t exactly roomy and Buck is folded in at a weird angle to get his face to Eddie’s chest. Eddie knows he still smells like the kitchen fire, like smoke and burnt fish and sweat. Any second, someone’s going to realize they disappeared and come barging through the ambulance doors and into this, into the tableau that is Buck leaning on Eddie’s chest.

Eddie breathes, chest rising and falling. Buck moves with it.

He was scared to see Buck again. He can admit that now, with Buck in front of him, the way he couldn’t when he was still in El Paso.

There’s a conversation they’ve been waiting to have. They started it a month ago, on the phone, Buck in his loft and Eddie in the kitchen of his rented house in El Paso. By now, Eddie’s pretty sure he’s figured out where this conversation is going to end. He knows he’s not going to find out here, in the back of an ambulance in Pasadena.

They decided, by mutual agreement, that they wouldn’t touch it until after the shift. They kept their word. Instead, Buck’s been doing…this. Messing with Eddie. Sticking close to him. Touching him, under the barest pretense of medical necessity.

It—this, them—has been an idea in Eddie’s head for so long that he started to lose track of what it was, exactly, that he was waiting for. It doesn’t feel real, that Buck could say something on the phone and a month later Eddie could be in Los Angeles again, cashing checks they wrote when they were eight hundred miles apart.

“I’m not angry with you, Eddie,” Buck said, low, into a phone speaker in Los Angeles. Into Eddie’s ear, in an empty room in El Paso. “I’m in love with you.”

Buck’s head resting on Eddie’s chest is real.

It’s right here. It’s the easiest thing in the world, for Eddie to put his hand on the back of Buck’s neck, where the soft ends of his hair curl. For him to breathe in, slow, and feel the weight of Buck leaning on him.

“Yeah,” Buck says finally. His voice is quiet in the back of his throat. Eddie can feel it in his chest. “Found it.”

[judesmoonbeauty]

Miss Fairytale Keeper, Come Have Fun With Us: Jude Jazza END

Translations will not include screenshots or CGs as mentioned here. Fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors. Cybird owns everything. Feel free to re-blog, but please do not post my translations elsewhere. Thank you, for you support! ☾.

When I reached out, it was Jude’s hand I took.

Jude: If ya let go of me, I won’t letcha off.

Kate: Okay!

He makes me stand up, and kicks away all those attacking me, one after the other.

Jude: Tch, what kind of management do they have to be so hated like this?

Kate: Should YOU be the one to say that about other people?!

Jude: Don’t say unnecessary things!

The ones who attacked me were thin, and looked very poor.

They’re people who’ve lost something very important to them through gambling.

Even if I do sympathize with them a little, it’s never an excuse to draw deadly weapons.

Jude: Run!

Punching and kicking, he defeats his enemies one after the other, pulling me along strongly, and as we head for the door, we dodge bullets in the thick black smoke.

As we left the casino, explosions sounded behind us.

We kept running until we reached a nearby port.

Jude: I’m havin’ a real shitty day.

Kate: Is it okay now?

Our fastened hands were easily released, and the warmth of my right hand cooled quickly.

Feeling a bit lonely, I opened my mouth to gloss it over.

Kate: In the end, we didn’t collect any evidence.

Jude: There’s evidence.

Kate: What?

I’m not sure where he got it from, but holding a thick ledger in his hands, he handed it to me.

When I looked inside, I saw things other than money that had been wagered in the casino so far, and a list of customers who received them alongside Viscount Smith’s signature.

Kate: When did you get this?!

Jude: Took it from that damned Viscount when the explosion happened.

(I couldn’t see because of the smoke, but I guess that’s what happened.)

Based on the overwhelming evidence, the casino will be brought to justice before her Majesty the Queen.

Just as I was feeling relieved over completing the mission, I suddenly remembered something.

Kate: If I had known that I was being used for collateral, I would’ve bet….

(I knew that Jude would win…..)

Then he made a disgusted expression…..

Jude: Our princess doesn’t seemta understand why she was prohibited.

As we stood facing each other, the sea breeze blew through his hair.

Jude: Ain’t no way someone who shows their emotions so easily could win.

Jude: Imagine how much a young woman without much money would hafta pay if she lost?

(Ah…..)

I recall the words of Viscount Smith and realize.

(Selling my body, experiencing atrocious things, the worst case scenario….)

A chill ran down my spine as I realized how naive I’d been.

The client list had records of women and children being sold, and I finally understood those repeated words had been for my sake.

(Jude said that he’d protect me.)

Feeling mixed emotions of his kindness and my own naivete, i bit my lip and looked down, but when his shoes came into view, I looked up.

Jude: Really, cantcha say thanks to the person who saved ya?

Kate: …! Thank you.

When I expressed my gratitude to him, who is foul-mouthed but kind,

Jude: Seems like Crown’s Fairytale Keeper has grown attached to the admirable Vogel.

Jude: Kissin’ the winner. I think ya wanted that bad personality.

Kate: That’s something Nica said on his own,

Jude: Such good friends that yer on a first name basis. (Jude’s angy face.)

His raised voice and pouty expression, seemed to indicate he was in a bad mood.

Jude: I mean, is the princess even bold ‘nuff to kiss a man herself.

Upset with his making fun of me, I confronted him.

Kate: It’s just a kiss, I can do it.

Jude: If so, then I’ll betcha won’t.

Kate: If I can kiss you?

Jude: I’ll do anythin’ ya say. Probably impossible anyway.

He’s so confident I can’t do it despite my enthusiasm.

We faced and stared at each other for a while,

(Where should I kiss him……) T-T on the lips.

I looked at his lips, but didn’t have the courage, so I felt conflicted,

Jude: ….Ridiculous. (I’m with him on this one.)

He turned on heel and walked away.

Kate: W-wait a minute!

I quickly grabbed his arm and stood on my tip toes as he looked back at me,

Jude: Huh?

I kissed his forehead.

Kate: ….I kissed you.

Kate: Now, please listen to what I have to say.

He put his hand to his forehead, his eyes slightly open,

Kate: I’m Crown’s Fairytale Keeper, not Vogel’s Fairytale Keeper!

Starting to feel embarrassed, I ran past him.

Kate: That’s why I’m going home!

A few seconds later, with the sound of him turning around, only one word was heard.

Jude: Kid.

(He’s making fun of me again…..!)

When I turned to say something back, I saw the softest expression on his face.

Kate: Huh……

It was as warm as sunlight, and it was the first time I’d seen it.

It felt like time had stopped for a moment,

Jude: What kinda dumb look are ya makin’?

His grumpy face returned immediately.

Jude: Hurry ‘n go home.

He started walking and I followed him quickly.

Kate: Please wait!

Perhaps the reason why I didn’t stand next to the swinging jacket that was a step ahead of me, was because the excitement I felt still hadn’t gone away.

[Master List] [Jude Epilogue]

Heh, jelly Jude. Pouty Jude. More of that please.

Dividers: @.adornedwithlight

Tags List: @sh0jun @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @letter-from-afar @nateko @cosmowgyrall. @lunaaka

[brattyfork]

drank

summary: matt n his brothers go to a party. he has fun but he missed you.

warnings: drunk sex, sub!matt+mommy kink lol

based on this request!

way back when, when matt and i first started having sex and figuring out our safe word, something interesting came up.

“what if i’m drunk?” i looked at him confused.

“what do you mean?”

“well sometimes when i’m drunk i get horny, i wanna have sex but i don’t want you to feel like you’re taking advantage of me”

“oh ok, uhh i mean we can still use the safe word in that situation right? ill just make sure you remember it before we start?”

“okay sounds good” he smiled at me.

the boys had some influencer party to go to, normally i’d tag along but i really didn’t wanna go anywhere, opting for one of matt’s tshirts instead of a crop top (is this line cringe?).

i knew matt wouldn’t do anything stupid at a party. furthermore, i knew nick and chris, mainly nick, wouldn’t let him do anything really stupid. i trusted him, i knew he’d feel the same about me going out, as long as he knew i’d be safe.

i decided to just sit on the couch, watch tv. i was watching criminal minds when i heard a car door outside. i could hear someone fumbling with the doorknob for a few seconds before before the lock turned and the door opened. nick walked in first, holding the door open for chris and a stumbling matt. he kicked off his shoes, slamming his hand on the wall, almost falling.

“how was the party?” i asked no one in particular.

“well they had fun” nick said, gesturing to the two younger triplets.

“it was cool, matt had too much to drink. lightweight.” chris rolled his eyes.

“be nice” i scolded. matt made his way to the couch, throwing himself over the back, sitting next to me then laying his head in my lap.

“you have fun baby?” i spoke softly.

“yes, missed you tho” i ran my hands through his hair.

“i missed you too my love” i dipped my head down to give him a sweet kiss. it quickly turned rough and needy. i pulled away, conscious of his brothers still downstairs. he let out a whine trying to chase my lips.

“you wanna go to bed baby?” i looked into his eyes, hoping he knew what i meant. his eyes were dark, not black with lust like usual, more doe-y, filled with need.

he nodded using all his strength to sit up, lifting his head off my lap. i stood up, looking back when i noticed he hadn’t moved. “cmon baby, let’s go” i tried to encourage him.

“mmmm, carry me”

“matt you know i can’t carry you, you’re too big”

“don’t be mean!”

“you know what i mean baby, you’re too strong and muscular”

“mhm”

“cmon get up, let’s go” i reached out my hand. he groaned, grabbing it and pulling with so much force i almost fell on him. i brought my other hand over, now using both my arms and all my strength to pull this man up. he finally stood up, he walked perfectly fine. i rolled my eyes, realizing he way just being lazy. he held my hand tight as i walked us up the stairs to our room. i pulled him into the room, he lets go of my hand, falling to the bed.

“how ya feeling baby?” i asked sitting next to him on the edge of the bed.

“i feel good, i missed you”

“i missed you too sweet boy”

“i really, really missed you” looking at me with his doe eyes, silently begging me to understand.

i leaned down to him pressing a sweet but deep kiss, pulling away shortly after.

“what’d you miss baby?” i whispered against his lips, pressing one more kiss to them before moving down his neck.

“your hands, your mouth, you” he whimpered the last word as i bit down into his neck, sucking a deep purple hickey into the soft skin.

“yeah? you want mommy to make you feel good? with my hands?” i ran my hands down his pants, resting my hands right next to his bulge. “with my mouth?” i placed wet kisses to his neck, grazing against the mark i left before.

“fuck yes please god yes”

“do you remember your safe word?”

“yes yes i know my safe word, just touch me already” i grabbed his face harshly.

“don’t be a brat, or ill leave you here to take care of yourself” i spat. he gave me puppy eyes.

“‘m sorry mommy”

“you gonna be a good boy for me?”

“yes yes, wanna be your good boy please”

i ran my hands up his shirt, moving them along his tummy before bringing my fingers to the hem and pulling it up. he got the hint and leaned forward, allowing me to take it off. i brought my hands down to his zipper. i began unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans when i felt him tug on the hem of my shirt. i pulled away, taking my hands off his lap to lift my shirt over my head.

when i looked back at him, his pants were down. i straddled him briefly, moving over him to the other side of the bed. i leaned down, kissing down his now visible v-line, slipping my fingers into the waist band of his boxers. his dick shot up, the tip red and needy, dripping with precum.

“aw baby. so worked up and i’ve barely touched you”

“please…”

“please what baby? what do you want?”

“need you to touch me please” i brought my hand up to his mouth.

“spit”

he did as i asked, or demanded i guess, and i brought my hand down to his cock, stroking up and down him a few times. he threw his head back, letting small moans and whines out, egging me on more.

i stroked him for awhile, focusing on the wonderful faces he made and his desperate noises. he started to squirm, trying to buck up into my hand.

“please mommy more i need more” i smirked at him, the sound of him begging was music to my ears.

i decided to be nice, letting spit fall from my mouth onto his cock before leaning down, sucking on the tip. as soon as i got used to his size in my mouth, i deep throat him, letting his tip hit the back of my throat.

this earned a loud “FUCK” from him, causing me to pull off, making him whine.

“you gotta be quiet baby, don’t want your brothers hearing how needy you are, do you?” i taunted, his cheeks turning a brighter pink. “gonna be quiet? be a good boy for me?”

“yes fuck i promise i’ll be good”

i brought my head down to his lap, taking all of him in my mouth at once. he bit his lip, the whimpers still sounding through. i sped up, going up all the way to the tip and quickly back down to the base. matt had stopped biting his lip, opening his mouth so he could let out large breaths. as i kept sucking him, his breathing turned to what could only be described as panting and fuck it was so hot.

“i-i’m close, f-fuck” he let out between pants. i thought for a second, stilling my movements before pulling off. he let out such a needy groan, i could’ve cum right then and there.

“why?” he looked to me, his eyes brimming with tears.

i gave him a kiss, feeling bad that he was upset.

“i’m sorry baby, mommy wants you to fill her up, don’t you wanna make mommy feel good?”

“yes fuck wanna be inside you mommy please god” he moved his hands up to my bra, still covering my chest.

“can you take this off? wanna see your pretty body” i smiled at him, moving my hands behind my back to unclasp it, pulling it down my shoulders making my tits bounce. i swear i could see some drool leave his open mouth. i quickly pulled my pants and underwear down, not wanting to make him wait any longer and needing him inside me.

i straddled his lap, rubbing my wet clit over his cock, still slippery from my mouth.

“ohmygod” he slurred out, making me giggle a bit, loving how much of an effect i had on him. i lifted myself up, taking him in my hand and lining him up with my entrance.

i sank down slowly on him, feeling every vein against my walls. his eyes rolled back into his head, a deep whine coming from his throat, harmonizing with my moans.

“fuck matty, so fucking big, making mommy feel so good” i bounced on him a few times before i realized how tired i was and began grinding instead.

“h-holy shit mommy, feels s’good”

“been such a good boy for me tonight baby, you wanna cum inside me?”

“fuck, yes please fuck oh my god”

i leaned down connecting our chests, moving my head into the crook of his neck. i sucked another mark into him, nibbling the rest of his neck before breathing on his ear.

“cum whenever you’re ready baby, gonna make mommy cum too” i continued grinding on him, his tip brushing the bottom of my cervix each time. i moved faster, chasing my own high. i felt him twitch inside me, sending me over the edge. i bit down on his neck, trying not to be too loud, matt cried out. between me biting him and clenching around him, his hips sputtered, unloading his cum as far into me as he could.

i let out a squeaky groan as he filled me up. there was no better feeling, his warm load sent me over the edge everytime. i came again, crying out as i clenched around his sensitive cock and began to twitch on him.

matt wrapped his arms around my lower back, trying to still my movements. we both came down from our highs, i lifted my head out of his neck, moving to look at him. his hair was messy, i could see the marks id left, his lips red from biting them so hard, his eyes glossed over.

i kissed him, passionately, there was no sexual motive behind it, i simply wanted to convey how much i appreciate him. he was incredible, in every single way, not just in bed, he was the perfect boyfriend. the perfect man.

“i love you more than anything”

“i love you too baby, so so much” he replied, brushing my hair out of my face.

i gave him another peck before moving to get off him, realizing his cum and cock we’re still inside me. he held my thighs, not letting me get up and i looked at him confused.

“will you uh- can we… sleep like this?”

“of course baby, you like how it feels? leaving your cum inside me? how tight i am around you?” i teased him.

“fuck don’t talk like that, i don’t have the energy for another round” he chuckled.

i gave him another kiss before laying down on top of him, moving carefully so he didn’t come out.

“goodnight matty” i whispered into his ear.

“goodnight my love”

a/n: hi yall, sorry i haven’t posted in a while. busy w school and on top of that we found out we gotta move. but i hope u guys enjoyed, i wrote most of this while high so if anything doesn’t make sense lmk. ALSO i am catching up on requests rn, if you requested something i promise i am working on it <3

[valley-of-headcanons]

I have a request because I’m curious. I’d love to see your headcannons on the bachelors finding out that their lovely farmer that they adore was previously in an abusive relationship and that why they really fled the city. Maybe a little added bonus on how they’d react bumping into said person 

bachelors with an abused partner || headcanons

your past isn't something to be ashamed of, and these lovely bachelors make you feel right at home <3

warnings: heavy topics today! abusive relationship mentions + interactions with the abuser. farmer is triggered by their partner's actions (yelling, joking shove, etc.), resulting in a panic attack. comfort fic :)

requested by: anon! hi, thank you so much for the request! i love comfort fics, so i hope that this provides you comfort as well! if anyone reading is going through this situation, please reach out to the people around you and get tf out, no one deserves such a thing :( anyway! hope you enjoy <3

alex

• When the time came around to tell Alex about your past relationships, you made sure to sit him down. You wanted him to truly understand how serious this was. So, you started to explain everything, detail for detail ... this led to a lot of emotions being brought back. Of course, you were emotional, but Alex seemed even more emotional.

• Alex was pissed. He was livid about how that person treated you. How dare someone even go that far? You're such a lovely person, he just cannot wrap his head around it ... but eventually, he realizes that he needs to put his emotions aside so that he can show you the love you need right now. He wraps stands and wraps his arms around you, kissing your cheek.

• “You're gonna be okay ... I'm gonna keep you safe, not matter what, 'kay? You're not gonna be in any of those situations, none of those words will ever be said in your direction as long as I'm around. Want to go lay down? You look like you're about to fall out ...” he says in the softest voice he can.

• Alex would try his best to respect your triggers as much as he can, but everyone makes mistakes sometimes. When in a simple disagreement, he ends up raising his voice. This sends shivers down your spine. When he notices you start to shake, tears pricking your eyes, he stops what he's doing immediately. It might take him a moment to realize, but he doesn't want to put you in harm's way what-so-ever.

• “Hey, hey, hey, I'm sorry ... listen, I'm not them. I promise you, I'm not him. I didn't mean to raise my voice, and I promise it's not that serious ... I'm not gonna hurt you. I wouldn't do anything on purpose ... you're safe here, I promise. We're just tired and wiped out. We need rest, and we'll bring all this up again later, yeah? Okay ... I love you.”

• If you two were to run into your abuser, Alex would immediately come to your aid. He would block you from the abuser's view, trying his hardest to protect you. He would hold a conversation with you, attempting to keep your mind off of the triggering presence. Eventually, if you need to get out of there, he takes you by the hand and leads you away. He makes sure to keep an eye out for everything that could possibly hurt you, and he does a fantastic job at it.

elliott

• When the time came to tell Elliott about your past relationships, you tried to warn him that this is going to be a heavy topic. After seeing your demeanor change, he started to worry. He inquired more, to which you provided. You explained every detail that you could, which was definitely emotional. But Elliott ... his emotions were written all over his face. God, he was devastated.

• Elliott looked absolutely defeated. He couldn't fathom how anyone could hurt you in such a harsh way. All he wanted to do was protect you with every bit of himself, but he walked into your life a bit too late. So, he needed to do what he could now that he was here. He kneeled down in front of you, taking your hands in his. He pressed a soft kiss onto your knuckles.

• “Love ... I don't know what to say. I have been rendered speechless by an idiotic hoodlum who has forsaken you. You will never be hurt again in my care, and I will promise you that. Live your life with no worry, and I will be at your side. Let me accompany, protect, and adore every aspect of you. You will be okay, my dearest, and I love you.”

• Eliott would rather die than make you uncomfortable. He tried his hardest to avoid any triggers, respect your boundaries, and love you with as much caution as he needed to. However, he accidentally messed up once. He said a phrase that was triggering to you, but he didn't know. You hadn't mentioned it, you had actually blocked that out. But when he said it, memories came flooding back, causing you to have a panic attack. He immediately came to your side, attempting to calm you down as you stuttered out your explanation.

• “My dearest, I am so very sorry. I didn't realize that would upset you. I promise, whatever intention that was used back then is not mine. I apologize as deeply as I can, and I vow to make it up to you. What can I do? ... let's go take a walk, okay? That way we can get our minds off of things. The beach would be a nice place, the sound of the waves can drown out the horrible memories. Is that okay with you? ... then let's go, my love.”

• If you two were to run into your abuser, Elliott would immediately wrap a protective arm around you. He would carry on, keeping an eye on both you and the abuser. If they were to approach you two, he would say something out of character, insulting the deepest darkest parts of their soul. Words that would never leave Elliott's mouth would fly out on this rare occasion. He would then take you home and make you some tea, calming you down as much as he could. He would make you feel as safe as he could.

harvey

• When the time came to tell Harvey about your past relationships, he could read the anxiety on face. It was fairly evident. So, he rested his hand on your back as you began to speak. As you opened up about all of the details you could think of, he softly rubbed your back. It was comforting, but not enough to keep you from being emotional. Harvey tried to keep a calm demeanor the whole time, acting as a stable rock for you.

• He tried to keep you calm by rubbing your back. After realizing this wasn't working, he pulled you into his arms carefully. He was more worried about keeping you calm and happy now, and he wanted to help you cope with everything later on down the line. What happened, happened. He has accepted that. It's a horrendous thing, but with the amount of people he's seen in his office, it happens. So, he focused as much as he could on making you feel better.

• “I'm so sorry, sweetheart. Thank you for sharing all of this with me, I'll certainly keep it in mind. What can I do moving forward that can help you? As your boyfriend, I will try my hardest to keep you safe and sound. I promise. I ... I am baffled that someone could do such a thing to you. You're safe now, sweetheart.”

• Harvey does his best to avoid triggering topics. He does mental gymnastics around these topics, and he sincerely tries his best. But, when you catch him humming a song that your abuser would hum ... you couldn't help but have a panic attack. Of course, after he figured out what was wrong, he would immediately stop and help.

• “Please love, take deep breaths. In ... hold ... out ... keep repeating that for me, alright sweetheart? Okay ... I'm so sorry, I didn't realize. I will keep this in mind from now on, but please tell me what else I can do. I know you forgot and that's not your fault. Keep taking those deep breaths for me ... you're doing okay, I promise. Nothing's going to hurt you here.”

• If you two were to run into your abuser, Harvey would sweep you away as soon as possible. If he even caught a glimpse of the person who hurt you, he would take your hand in his and lead you away as fast as he could. Leading you back to the house, he would sit with you close and make sure to keep an eye on the door. He was insistent on keeping you safe and out of sight. Harvey didn't know what he would do if the abuser was around you, but he knew it wouldn't be good. He loved you too much to put you in harm's way.

sam

• When the time came around to tell Sam about your past relationships, he didn't really expect anything. Okay, you were in a relationship, so what? He didn't expect anything bad, why would anyone do anything bad to you? You're so lovely, bad relationships shouldn't happen to you. But as you told him about everything that had happened to you ... Sam was baffled.

• He was so confused, how could this happen to you? Sam always treated you with respect and kindness and so, so much love! People are horrible, and Sam wasn't expecting this in the slightest. He made that clear to you, resting his hands on your cheeks. He pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead before wiping your tears with his thumb.

• “I never would've guessed that would've happened to you! If I see that fucker, promise you'll let me at 'em? You don't deserve that- you don't deserve anything of the sort! I just ... I love you so much, please don't forget that ... I wouldn't do anything to put you in harm's way, I would rather die, actually. Come here,” he said, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close.

• Sam was pretty cautious about what you said triggered you, but sometimes things happen. He forgot that sudden loud noises made you upset, so when he was practicing on the drum set with no warning ... oops. He noticed how upset you looked, covering your ears. He stopped, cocking his head to the side and asking what was wrong. When you explained, he felt so bad.

• “Oh my God- I am so sorry. I forgot, I didn't realize- fuck ... please, let me make it up to you. Don't cry ... please? I-I promise, I didn't mean to. I was just practicing, but I'll make sure I'll warn you next time or use a mute. I love you, I am so sorry ... you're okay, you're not the one who needs to be apologizing. I love ya, hon. I'll make it up to you, I promise.”

• If you two were to run into your abuser, Sam wouldn't be able to hold back. He would send you off to hang out with Sebastian while he let loose on this fucker. He would beat the absolute shit of out of them (if they are male. If they were female, he would use his words because his mom brought him up right. He would fuck them up with his words though, I promise you that.) He would return to you beaten and bruised, but he would laugh it off. As long as you were safe and nothing was going to harm you, he was perfectly fine.

sebastian

• When the time came to tell Sebastian about your past relationships, he wasn't really worried. He loved you and was curious about your past, but he didn't expect anything necessarily bad. So, you sat him down on the couch. He didn't think it would be too serious, so he laid down against the arm, listening to you intently. But, as you started explaining everything in detail ... he sat straight up.

• Sebastian had always tried his hardest to keep his emotions subdued, he didn't like dealing with them. But things like this ... they made him emotional. Tears were in his eyes, which he tried to blink back. He really loved you, and he couldn't believe anyone could do such a thing to you. He needed to make sure you were okay, so he took your hand.

• “I ... I'm sorry, I'm just kinda speechless ... I promise, I love you, and that's not going to happen again. On my life, nothing will ever happen like that with me. I will ... I will work as hard as I can to keep you safe. Let me know what I can do to help ... you're precious to me. I wouldn't let you in harm's way.”

• He tried his hardest to keep your triggers in mind whenever he could, but we all forget sometimes. While you two were playing video games, he jokingly shoved you a little bit too hard. Of course, this brought back memories which sent you spiralling ... uh oh. Sebastian knew that he had messed up. He needed to bring you back to Earth somehow. He got on his knees in front of you and took your hands in his.

• “Hey, I'm sorry ... I didn't mean it like that. I won't do that anymore, it's just reflexes after hanging out with Sam for so long. I love you, and I would never hurt you on purpose. I won't put my hands on you like that again, okay? ... let me know what I can do to help, I would do anything and everything for you. I'd bend the Earth if I could ... yeah, we can lay down. Wanna pick a movie? ... I'll start some popcorn, go find something and I'll be in there shortly. I love you.”

• If you two were to run into your abuser, Sebastian would make sure to keep you safe. He'd have an arm around you at all times, watching over you while doing daily tasks. If the person were to come up to you, he would shoot a rude comment their way while calculating a way to get you out of this situation safely. The back and forth banter would last a while, but Sebastian wouldn't fight them. He'd make them want to fight him, but he wouldn't dare shoot the first punch. He's mature enough to avoid that situation.

shane

• When the time came around to tell Shane about your past relationships, Shane just shrugged when you brought it up. The past is the past, what's the issue? He soon found out that there were actually a lot of issues. When you slowly went through everything you could, letting all the details slip, Shane just stared daggers into the ground. Holy shit.

• Shane is a damaged person, yes. But knowing that you're damaged, just like him? It made his heart break. You didn't deserve that, that treatment wasn't meant for people like you. He shook his head, his elbows on his knees. He couldn't believe someone would do shit like that, they have some fucking nerve.

• “Fuck 'em. They're not here anymore, and I'll make sure they stay the hell away. Your feelings are valid, and I understand. If you ever need to talk about anythin', let me know ... I'm not the best with emotions, but I promise that I'm always here for ya. Just ... anythin' you need, I guess.”

• Shane tried his hardest to step around your triggers, but when you're a bit tipsy, mistakes are easy to make. You two were having a small disagreement when he accidentally dropped his glass. As the glass shattered, shockwaves were sent through your body. He saw your eyes widen in fear before they began to prick with tears. You didn't think he did it on purpose, did you? He walked closer to you with his hands out, trying to show that he wasn't going to hurt you. He just wanted to comfort you.

• “I promise that wasn't on purpose, hon- the glass just slipped. I wouldn't throw a glass or any shit like that ... has that happened before ...? Fuck- I am so sorry. I love you, I promise, and I wouldn't ever throw shit at you. Let me make it up to you, yeah? I'll hold you for the rest of the night, make you feel all safe ... I am really, really sorry ...”

• If the two of you were to run into your abuser, Shane would certainly have some choice words. He would yell at them from afar, nothing up close, and simply walk away with you by his side. He didn't want to create too much drama, but he wanted that fucker to know that weren't welcome in this town. They weren't welcome around you. All Shane cared about was you, and it was evident.

[silasours]

ৎ⸝⸝⠀DETECTIVE AND MURDERER IN HELL . —

#pairing : alastor x gn reader. #cw : may include adult content. enemies to lovers trope. #summary : you were a detective when you were a human! but uh oh, you died.. and you meet the target that you were on to before your death? #note : I feel bad for not posting for so long, here's a little sneak peek at what I'm working on! i received this prompt from an anon in my inbox and do i love it very much. i have so many ideas for this fic, it'll be my first ever long fic on this blog! i'll reply to the ask once I'm done with the fic :3

“my, isn’t it my favorite detective!” you hear a static, loud voice speak from behind you. you quirk a brow, slowly turning your head to see a demon that somehow resembles a deer. a red deer, that is. he wears this wide smile that stretches from ear to ear, his whole attire so formal it makes you question if you’re underdressed. he holds a cane in his hands; it looks like a speaker that he got custom-made. confusion bubbles inside of you, and multiple questions float across your mind. who is this man, that so happens to know what you work as when you were still alive?

and, out of all demons, why are you his favorite?

“I’m sorry, but have we met?” you turn your body to face him fully, your eyes scanning from head to toe wondering if it’s just a fuzzy memory of yours. the demon steps closer to you, a sense of uneasiness instantly rushes through your veins. you shudder suddenly..

“aha, of course we have! you were even so interested in me back when we were alive!” his words only made your confusion grow. you, being interested in someone? in what way? your work has never allowed you any extra space to catch feelings for anyone around you, so surely it’s not a crush unless you’ve misunderstood. It’s like he read your thoughts, he quickly adds in with a light chuckle.

“constantly trying to gather information about me, pinpointing my location, guessing my next move. fun times! I truly enjoyed watching you do so.” something clicked in your head. so this demon was presumably a target of yours before he died, but how could you know exactly which? you had so many targets, so many psychopaths you had to track down and lock them up for good. though, something about his deer features brings a blurry memory of a specific target that you currently can’t quite put a name to his face.

everyone in the hotel watches your interaction with the red demon quietly. the air is tense, nobody dared to breathe any harder than they are now. charlie is the most anxious one out of everyone in the room; angel is starting to doubt whether he should’ve brought you back to the hotel. but, surely, the manager is smarter than to kill off someone interested in staying, no?

“care to remind me which one are you?” your hands instinctively hide themselves in your pockets as a habit. your tone isn’t as friendly as it was when you spoke to the others, and the demon is loving the reaction he’s getting from you.

“gladly, my dear friend! i’d say my case was the one you spent the most time on,” you suddenly feel a strong tug on your hand before realizing that you’re shaking hands with the demon. his smile widens as you grow more uncomfortable. “the name’s alastor! pleasure to be meeting you, quite a pleasure! I was there to witness your lovely slash boring death,”

you pull your hand back from his grasp, face scrunching at the mention of your death. he witnessed your death? what is he hinting? Is he trying to tell you that it was he who took the life of yours?

“I watched as you were murdered by one petty man i convinced, it was one of the most boring deaths i’ve ever seen! but dear, was i disappointed that you’ll never be able to put a close to my case when i thought you’d do better at fighting back.” you freeze suddenly, blood running cold from your face as he carries on.

“I was the last target you had before dying, it was a joy toying with you like a little mouse.”

so that’s what all the familiarity you felt was. his demeanor and personality, all that was jotted down in the notebook you had for research. he matches everything you wrote; you remember word by word from the number of times you’ve reread it, the times at night when you’re desperate to finally put the case to a stop. you feel anger and disgust pound in your chest, feet stepping back a couple of times.

he’s the reason why you died. you stare at his mocking smile, his expression that clearly shows his enjoyment while watching your reaction. a growl bubbles from your chest, and you see the spider demon hesitantly approach you. he stays beside you, rubbing his arm nervously while trying to think of a reason to pull you away from this scene.

“I died because of you,” you breathe out, body shaking not from fear but anger and realization. you suddenly leap forward when angel is about to reach out for your arm, your fingers curl tightly around the collar of alastor’s shirt. his smile only widens at your actions, a light hum that slides out so smoothly and audibly. “and it was purely for fun?” it’s even possible to notice every small feature you have on your face from how close you’ve pulled his face to yours. you earn a mere shrug from the demon.

“woah! babes, hey, calm down would’ja? let’s head somewhere else.” you feel a tug at your arm, but you don’t budge. you want to hurt this demon, to beat him until he’s curled up into a ball on the ground, but you can’t. there’s something holding you back, something telling you to not go any further than what you’re currently doing. he reeks of danger and mystery, hell knows what would he do to you if you were to cross his line. with another growl, you harshly push him away and he stumbles back a few steps with a small ‘oh!’.

angel sees this and takes the chance to quickly drag you away from the scene, and you let him. Everyone in the hall watches angel drag you all the way to the kitchen until alastor is out of your sight. his clawed fingers release your arm, a concerned gaze fixated on your slumping figure as you let out a deep sigh while pressing your face onto the surface of your palms.

now, you’ll really have to think it through whether you want to stay in this hotel. having so many things to take in so suddenly messes up your thoughts, something you’re unfamiliar with considering how you’re always sharp and organized.

© silas ( @silasours ). all rights reserved. every work posted on this account belongs to me, and only me. please refrain from reposting, plagiarizing, translating, or reproducing my work in any form possible.

[eddiemunsonw]

Princess

Gator Tillman x fem!reader blurb

Summary: He's there for duty, but then you are there, you know?

CW/Disclaimer: No special warnings needed I believe

Author's note: I think sometimes this loserboy can have a little bit of rizz if he isn't shut down right in the same second. Y'know, the silence can either fuck him over or give him cocky confidence. Which is kind of what's happening here.

Words: 777

A sigh escaped your lips as you dunked the last pieces of glass in the trash. Thankfully, aside from a few broken pieces of glass and a slippery slope of olives spread around the aisle, nothing eventful had happened at the robbery, if you could even call it that. It seemed more like a kid that had been pressured into a dare to steal something and had massively fucked up by tripping over their own feet and knocking off some products. Still, you had to call someone in. Letting these things go unnoticed would only make you an easy target. Which is why you weren’t surprised when the Sheriff had sent his son your way.

Gator Tillman came to a screeching halt in front of the shop, music blazing through the speakers. You rolled your eyes and folded up your dishrag as you walked to the back to wash your hands. Behind you, the bell to signal someone entering the shop clanged. You took your time to get to the front, already hearing several “hellos”, patience dropping with each new one.

“Yes, yes, I’m here,” you mumbled, holding back a sigh. Gator frowned and already opened his mouth to retort something towards the rude greeting he received until his eyes landed on you.

“That’s no way to talk to— Oh… well would you look at that,” he smirked and moved closer to the counter you stood behind. “If I’d known this place was run by a pretty bird like you, I would’ve stepped in long ago.”

“Well… What do you need, Tillman? The kid’s probably still a minor, I don’t know if the security footage is—”

“Hush, darlin’, there’s no rush on the matter at hand. Rather… I’d like to hold yours for a moment, may I?”

He held out his hand, palm upwards for you to lay your hand in it. You frowned at this weird request of him wanting to shake your hand. Maybe to introduce himself formally, which made no sense considering everyone knew Roy Tillman, which meant everyone also knew his son. However, when you extended your right hand, he tutted.

“I understand the confusion but I wanted to see somethin’...”

He beckoned for your left hand and in your confusion you held it out for him wordlessly. A soft smile introduced itself on his face as he took hold of your hand, thumb dragging over your knuckles. You vaguely noticed his hand was warm and his calloused thumb didn’t feel all that unpleasant.

“Ah… look here,” he mumbled, more to himself than to you it seemed. He looked up, his thumb still circling a repeating pattern over your knuckles as he spoke.

“No man claimed you just yet? Any suitors?”

A dry chuckle left your throat. First of all, no one could claim you. You decided to humor him a little though.

“No one’s stupid enough to try,” you said with a shrug. It was up to him however he took that bit of information. He hummed lowly, eyes flicking back to your hand again, slowly following the path towards your wrist, up your arm… slowstop at your chest, back to your face.

“We’ll see about that, sweetheart. No boyfriend? Man with a plan?”

“None of the sort, no.”

His thumb came to a stop at your ring finger, tapping it without removing his gaze from yours this time. It was your own gaze that shifted as his thumb rubbed the spot with meaning.

“I’m telling you now, I’ll be putting a ring on that finger of yours, darlin’.”

Another chuckle, one of disbelief, escaped your throat.

“I’d like to see you try.”

He smiled and finally let go of your hand to take his vape out of his pocket. You watched as he brought it closely to his lips, halting right before.

“For you, Princess,” he stated before taking a slow drag of his vape, eyes never leaving you, “anytime.”

Only now you realized that your heart rate had picked up just a notch and you weren’t sure whether you wanted to curse him or yourself for it. He leaned forward to say something else just as his radio went off. He snapped his lips shut and listened to the static voice coming in.

“Duty calls. I’ll see you around,” Gator said as he swiftly turned on his heel.

Just as you thought he was going to leave, he suddenly cocked his head back.

“You got beef jerky and Dew?”

“Sure do.”

“Good.”

And with that, he left with what felt like the promise of a marriage involving a whole ton of beef jerky and Mountain Dew. What a Tuesday.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Driver’s Seat

Pairing: Dominique Luca x fem!reader

Summary: At a classic car show, you meet the only gentleman in attendance and bond over a mutual love for cars.

Warnings: fluff! 1.2k+ words

A/N: This is completely self-indulgent (it’s about me and my car) but I figured I could share it anyway. Happy daydreaming about Luca!😊

“Nice car.”

You bristle, prepared for some variant of nicer driver or bet you look good in it.

“What year? ‘76 or ‘77?”

At the continued discussion of the car, you turn. You’ve seen Dom Luca around car shows before, but haven’t had the chance or a reason to talk to him yet. His kind smile helps you relax and you offer a smile in return. Being a woman at a car show is like travelling back in time to when the cars were new; you’re treated differently here than anywhere else.

“1977,” you answer. “Good eye. You’re Dom Luca, right? You brought a gorgeous 1956 Buick Special a few months ago.”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s me. Friends just call me Luca. I’m stuck with a ‘68 Charger this month. But your car is a beauty.”

“Thanks! I still have a ton of work to do before she’s finished, but I’m proud of everything I’ve managed to do.”

“You should be. Sorry, I didn’t ask your name.”

You smile as you extend your hand and say your name. Luca’s handshake is firm, and you appreciate the respect he shows you. It’s refreshing, and you’re glad your mental image of him from past shows holds up. He’s a gentlemen in a world where there aren’t many left.

“Any chance you have before pictures? I haven’t gotten my hands on a Nova yet but I know good work when I see it. Do it all yourself?”

You pull your phone from your pocket and navigate to your photo albums as you nod. “I did as much as I could. Had a lot of amazing people to help too.”

As you turn your phone to scroll through the before pictures, Luca moves to stand closer. His shoulder presses against yours, and you freeze momentarily before swiping to the next picture.

“Is that you?” Luca asks excitedly.

The picture of you smiling in the driver’s seat after the first test drive is one of your favorites. It was such a special moment, and having it immortalized in a photo is priceless. Luca’s attention, however, makes you a bit shy and you nod before swiping away quickly.

“There’s no shame in being excited. First drives are a special kind of rush,” he assures. “It’s a good picture, too.”

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“Everything original?”

You appreciate the change of subject, happier to focus on the car rather than its owner.

“Yeah, it is. Straight 6, automatic transmission, even the color is the same.”

“Now that takes real talent. Anyone can cover a classic in aftermarket parts, but original? That’s impressive.”

As you turn to face Luca, you realize how close he’s standing. Face-to-face, eye-to-eye, lip-to-lip… you know you should step back but you don’t want to. Luca smiles like he feels the same before his eyes drop to your phone.

“Care for another picture?” he asks. “It’s your first entry into a car show right?”

Someone whistles behind you and shatters the moment. Luca looks over your shoulder as he steps back. You can tell he wants to say something, but you shake your head. It’s always like this, you communicate with a shrug.

“Can I see the Charger you’re stuck with? Though I’d love to get my hands on a ‘69, so I don’t see it as the unfortunate situation you do,” you say with a smile.

Luca’s shoulders drop as he relaxes and steps to the side. He leads you down the row and around a booth at the end. The black Charger is beautiful, and your eyes widen as you walk the length of it.

“Luca,” you murmur. “It’s perfect.”

Luca presses his lips together to hide his smile. He said his friends call him Luca, and it sounds right coming from your lips. After thanking you, Luca pops the trunk open and points to a nearly invisible metallic L welded to the side.

“For Luca?” you ask, once again standing directly at Luca’s side.

“My brother and I work on these cars together. We, uh, didn’t talk for a while, so now that we’re close again, we like putting something in every car.”

“That’s amazing. I- do you have one more minute to spare?”

“If you compliment the car again, maybe I’ll give you two.”

“The body work on this is impeccable. Better than original. Like always,” you compliment.

“Lead the way.”

You unlock the passenger door and open the glovebox of your car. A laminated piece of paper and a photo are in your hands, and you pass them to Luca.

“1987,” he reads. “You have an old title registration for this car? Do you know how rare that is? Was it in the car?”

“Look at the picture,” you answer.

“I take it back. The first drive photo isn’t your best.”

You chuckle at the idea that the photo he’s holding is your best. In it, you’re less than 10 years old, sitting in the driver’s seat like you belong, and it’s proof that you’ve loved this car for nearly your entire life.

“Took me a while to get started on it, but it was worth the wait,” you muse. “Most good things are.”

“So, when you came to shows before, were you looking for inspiration or people to hire?” Luca asks as he passes the papers back.

With the memories of your family’s history with the car secure in the glovebox, you return your attention to Luca.

“You’re different than I thought you’d be,” you say. His face drops, and you add, “I knew you’d be a gentleman, but I didn’t think you’d let me talk to your ear off about my car. And yours.”

“You’d be surprised how long I’d listen to you.”

You playfully roll your eyes before someone yells Luca’s name.

“What are you planning to do next?” Luca asks, pointing to your car.

“Dom!” the man repeats, louder.

“Do you need to go?” you ask.

“My brother,” Luca says. “He can wait. Tell me what’s next. Finish this one and call it good, or are you going to be around with more cars?”

“I’d love to restore another car. Actually, a truck. An old boxy one that needs the love, or a Harvester.”

“1950s Harvester is my dream project,” Luca agrees.

“Finding one that isn’t in a scrap heap seems…”

“Impossible,” you and Luca say together.

“If you ever get your hands on one, send me lots of pictures?” you request as Luca’s brother approaches.

“What if I ask for your help instead?” Luca suggests.

“Why me?”

Luca smiles like he knows something you don’t. He introduces you to his brother, Terry, and shakes your hand again before leaving to talk to a salesman. A paper is transferred to your palm during the shake, and when he’s gone, you look at it. Luca’s phone number accompanies a short message, and your smile grows until your cheeks hurt.

Talk my ear off before the next show? I’d love to learn more about the girl in the car.

When he had time to write this, you don’t know. But you do know your answer. You text Luca that you’d love that, and he turns to wink at you before asking the men around him if anyone knows of a Harvester still on the market.

[dira333]

Of Swings and Snakes - Matsukawa x Reader

part 1 - this is the angsty start, for someone who likes angst to fluff, leave a note so I can tag you in part 2

Warning: Angst, Relationship ending, failed communication

tagging: @lees-chaotic-brain and my angsty Mattsun Anon

The old swingset creaks loudly as you push yourself forward. It’s the only noise in the park and it would probably be creeping you out if your thoughts weren’t occupied as is. 

You barely have enough energy to push yourself forward, but you cannot stay in place either and the loud, whining creak is enough to cut a little slice out of the gloom that’s been settling heavily into your skin.

“This seat taken?” 

You don’t look up. Makki settles in the swing next to you without waiting for an answer.

For a while, there’s just the sound of two swings creaking, the soft sound when your feet hit the floor to push you forward just a little more.

Eventually, though, you come to a stop. Makki follows, puts his feet down so hard dirt flies through the air. 

His left hand moves over to take yours, folding around your cold fingers holding the cold metal.

“I’m staying with you, okay?” He says, “You’re not going to be alone.”

Finally, your tears start to flow.

-

When you’re dating in high school, the reactions are always the same.

There are the ones who think it’s cute.

“Youth,” they’ll say with a wistful smile. “To be young again.”

There are the ones who think you’re too young. 

“You’ll regret this later, trust me. Don’t bind yourself to someone else too early.”

And there are the ones who look like their heart breaks just at the thought of it.

“I wish you the best,” your mother had said when you brought home the news, “I hope it turns out better for you.”

You hadn’t thought to ask then, what she meant. Would you have decided differently, if you had? If you’d heard about her own love story at seventeen? How she loved and lost in much the same way?

Or maybe you’d have told yourself that you are different. 

Only to realize that you are not.

-

“Please welcome our new manager to the team.” 

You wave shyly as the boys turn toward you. Your Middle School Volleyball Club was way smaller.

There’s talk of them making Nationals this year and you do your best to help.

“Oikawa made a name for himself in Middle School,” they say like he’s the Messiah that will bring new life to their hopes and aspirations.

And he’s good, that’s easy to tell. But where your Senpai seem to forget that Oikawa isn’t the only first year, you can see all of them gleam and glitter in the background, like Stars, unable to outshine the moon with their light.

Iwaizumi is a little shy, but you stay back to help him practice his spikes sometimes. 

Hanamaki and Matsukawa, or as they ask you to call them, Makki and Mattsun, tend to goof off most of the time during training but it’s not hard to call them to attention. Watching them play together is something you will not get tired of.

“Hey, Manager, can you help us?” Makki calls out to you, “I wanna practice blocking with Mattsun.”

“Coming!”

.

You don’t make it to Nationals this year. Shiratorizawa has also gained a new star and if Oikawa is the moon, outshining the stars, Ushijima Wakatoshi is the bright midday sun, burning away all memories of the night.

“You are a good manager,” he finds you in the hallways later, face set in a passive frown, “you should come to Shiratorizawa.”

And you’re sure it’s a compliment, in a way. But there’s no question of your loyalty.

“I wouldn’t be half as good as you think if I’d just abandon my team the moment someone asks me to.”

There’s surprise evident on his face that soon falls away.

“Come on, Ushiwaka, we’re going to be late,” a redhead calls for him just as Mattsun appears at the corner, waiting for you.

“We’ll meet again,” Ushijima promises and you shrug before turning around. You suppose there’s nothing you can do about it.

-

“Mom, can you give me my water bottle?”

Silence falls over the Gym, then laughter.

“What?” Watari asks, hackles rising.

“You just called our Manager Mom,” Sawauchi points out.

“No, I didn’t!” Watari defends himself and you pity the poor first year.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind-” 

“You don’t mind?” Makki leans heavily onto your shoulder. You don’t know how he could appear so fast out of thin air. “Mattsun, did you hear that?”

“Hm, I did.” He leans heavily on your other shoulder, winking down at you when you look up at him. Mattsun’s so close you can see every single one of his unfairly long lashes and the slow growth of his lazy smirk. 

He’s terrifyingly good looking and you suspect he knows it too.

-

“Mom!” Kyoutani yells through the Gym a few weeks later, the Nickname stuck like glue.

“Coming,” you yell back, emergency kit ready. “Jeez, you guys need to stop being so rough. Everything okay, Watari?”

“Yeah,” the Libero’s clutching his nose, blood dribbling out from under his hands. “Just managed to receive with my face.”

“Thanks for calling me, Kyoutani,” you tell the other boy who nods gruffly before returning to the court as if nothing happened.

“Come up,” you say, but he stays on the floor, growing paler. 

“I don’t feel so good,” he mutters and your head flies around, looking for someone, anyone who can help.

“I’m here,” Mattsun calls out immediately, already by your side. You didn’t see him come over, nor do you know why he decided to do it, but you’re too thankful to think about it now. 

Together you manage to get Watari out of the Gym where he empties his stomach into a nearby shrub.

“Let’s get you to school nurse,” Mattsun decides before looking at you. “That okay?”

“Yeah, thank you.” 

With Watari supported on your left and Mattsun’s right arm, the walk is more than a little wobbly - height difference and all - but your mind is going elsewhere, unable to focus on the first-year’s health.

Mattsun’s arm rests under yours on Watari’s back, warm and steadfast and safe.

He smiles softly, reassuring, whenever your eyes cross.

He doesn’t have to say anything, he just has to be there.

-

“Hey, I was wondering…” Mattsun’s rubbing the back of his head and you stop to give him some time to think.

“Yeah?”

A pink blush grows on his cheeks. You wonder if this is really what you think it is.

“I really like you. A lot. And I was thinking… if you’d want to be my girlfriend.”

You swallow thickly, look around for any signs that this is a prank.

“Are you being serious?”

“When have I ever not been- scratch that, yes, I’m serious.” He stretches out his hand as if this is a business offer, realizing half-way how weird it looks.

But it’s too late, you’ve already clamped both hands around his and shook it.

“I want to be your girlfriend,” you blurt out, just as awkward in your affection as he is.

A wide, satisfied grin spreads over his face and the blush intensifies to your delight.

“Wait,” Makki calls out from somewhere behind him, “Does that make Mattsun my Dad? I’m veto-ing!”

“You don’t get a say,” you declare just moments before Mattsun pulls you in, face mushed into his chest.

“If we run now,” he whispers, “we can outrun him.”

-

“If you miss this serve, you’re buying Ramen!” Makki declares.

“I want mine with pork!” Mattsun immediately adds on.

Oikawa rolls his eyes, but it doesn’t matter. They might be playing an important game, but this team knows better.

“I want mine extra spicy,” you call out from the side, waving when both Mattsun and Makki give you a thumbs up for the order.

.

“What are you going to do now?” Kindaichi asks after their loss.

“What do you mean?” You ask back.

“Are you still going to come to practice? You’ve got your exams coming up.”

“Are you trying to steal my girlfriend?” Mattsun hooks his head over your shoulder, trying to stare Kindaichi down.

“NO! No, no, I just… it will be different without you there.”

“Yamagata-chan will be helping you just fine,” you assure him, smiling at your feisty first-year manager. “I’m not sure yet, it depends on how well I’m getting on with studying.”

“Lies,” Mattsun whispers into your ear when Kindaichi turns his back on you for a second. “You’ll be back. You care too much.”

And isn’t that the truth?

-x-

“Where’s he staying?” You ask, your hand curled around the doorframe. Even from this distance you can tell that Mattsun’s missing.

Later you’ll find your suitcase missing, along with his suits and a few sets of underwear. He’s never been a materialist.

“I-” Makki pulls his head in as if to avoid the question. 

“Please?”

“He’s staying with Kyoutani for the moment,” he sighs, moves as if to hug you but pulls back when you step out of reach.

“I’m staying with you, okay? You won’t have to be alone.”

“What if I want to be?”

Makki cocks his head to the side, eyeing you curiously. “No, you don’t.”

“Fine,” you sigh, “but you’re making Dinner. I’m going to take a bath.”

“Don’t drown.”

You flip him off.

Though when you’re sitting in the hot water, surrounded by remnants of this lost relationship, you can’t help but weep.

-

“What’s this monstrosity?” You ask when Mattsun drops his hands from your eyes. There, on the shower curtain, is a giant cat in Seijoh colors, flying through space.

“Do you like it?” Mattsun asks, giggling, “Kindaichi ordered it.”

“No, he didn’t.”

“No, he didn’t, Kunimi ordered it. But Kindaichi paid.”

“Poor guy,” you huff, “but I suppose we can’t get rid of it now.”

“You always wanted a cat.”

You snort. “Yeah, and I guess I got one now.”

“And look, Kyoutani got us this kitten soap dishes to match. Isn’t that thoughtful?”

You sigh. “It is. At least now I’m glad I had the foresight to steal towels during my time at Seijoh.”

“You didn’t,” Mattsun gasps, “I’m dating a criminal!”

“You do,” you sling your arms around his shoulders and press a kiss to his jaw, “gonna kill you if you sing.”

He laughs, dips you like you’re dancing. 

And yes, your apartment is barely big enough to fit the two of you, but it doesn’t matter. Not as long as you’re together.

-

“What’s for Dinner?” Makki asks, closing the door behind him with a snap.

“I wanted to make Lasagna but I only had Ramen Noodles left, so I don’t know what to call it,” you announce from the stove.

“Oh, LaRamna, my favorite,” he chirps, going straight for the snack drawer until a well-aimed spoon cuts him off.

“No chocolate before Dinner.”

“But-”

“You can set the table.”

“Fine,” Makki huffs, sticking his tongue out at you. “I brought wine with me, by the way.”

“Oh, how classy of you. Are we pretending to be something other than College Kids?”

“Who’s pretending what?” Mattsun’s still in the door, wet hair hanging into his eyes.

“Oh baby,” you coo, walking over. “Did you forget your umbrella again?”

“Mhm,” he leans down to kiss you, leaving droplets of cold running down your skin. “Missed you.”

“Missed you too,” you hum back. Mattsun leans in to kiss you again though this time he stops, turns and “Makki, no Chocolate before Dinner!”

-

“You good?” Makki asks, pushing an open bar of chocolate in your direction.

“Yeah,” you hum, doodling yet another heart into your book.

“You don’t look it.”

“Just lonely, I guess,” you admit, “I’m not used to Mattsun staying out this late.”

“How long is this course going?”

“Two weeks,” you groan, rubbing your eyes.

“That’s not that long.”

“No,” you shake your head. “It’s not.”

But the gloominess doesn’t really go away that night.

.

“Another course?” You ask, focus on the carrots you’re cutting.

“Yeah,” Mattsun’s at the table, going over the bills. “This one’s not mandatory but I’d get ahead much faster. My uncle said I could start working part-time for him as soon as I’ve got through this one.”

“You wanna work for your uncle?” You ask, turning to look at him.

He purses his lips, taps the table with his pen.

“I mean, it’s honest work, right? I don’t really have any passion to follow and it pays good money.”

“Yeah, but what if you realize you hate it?”

“I’d figure it out then, wouldn’t I?” He cocks his head to the side to look at you. “Do you think I wouldn’t like it?”

“I don’t know. It’s just… I don’t like those late classes.”

“I know,” he coos, getting up and walking over. “I know you hate falling asleep without me.”

“That too,” you huff and lean into him. “I just… I didn’t know growing up was this hard.”

“It won’t be for long, I promise.”

-

The numbers on your alarm clock are a bright, annoying red and a slap in the face.

It’s two hours past midnight yet the other side of your bed is cold and empty. 

There are no new messages on your phone as you slip out of bed and stalk around the room, chewing on your lower lip as you consider your options.

Call the police? Call Makki? 

You call Mattsun, because that’s always been your go-to if you needed help.

The familiar ringtone cuts through the silence, muffled only by the closed door.

When you open it, you’re greeted by the dim lights over the stove and a long body stretched out on the Couch. 

He fell asleep waiting for the Microwave to get done and though you want nothing less than to curl up beside him, he looks far too exhausted for you to wake him up.

So you tuck him in the best you can before you slip back into the bed he should be sharing with you, unable to get rid of a chill that has started creeping in.

-

“Instant Ramen?” Makki’s stopped halfway to the fridge, staring at your choice of Dinner. You shrug and dig your chopsticks into the meal.

He looks like he wants to add something, but instead, he picks a pack out of the drawer Mattsun pretended to hide them in. A few minutes later he’s sitting across from you, blowing on his own bowl of Ramen.

“I thought they’re not healthy.”

“They’re not.”

“Period incoming.”

“Had it last week.”

“Hm.” Makki squints, takes a first sip, and curses when he burns his mouth.

“Okay,” he huffs finally when even that doesn’t make you smile, “Spill. Why are we eating Instant Ramen instead of the usual healthy stuff you like to make?”

“I hate cooking for one person.”

Makki stops, chopsticks halfway to his mouth.

“But you’re not cooking for one person,” he says, confused, “You always cook for-”

You stare at him until he breaks off in the middle of his sentence.

But Makki wouldn’t be Makki if he could be convinced to shut up by a glare alone.

“It’s only a few more days until the course is over.”

“I think he’s cheating on me.”

Makki’s chopsticks drop into his bowl, spraying broth everywhere. But you don’t care. Not about that, at least. 

You eat on, try to stare a hole into the wooden tabletop, right there, where you usually put Mattsun’s bowl when he sits down for Dinner.

“You wouldn’t-” Makki stumbles over the words. “He wouldn’t- Why do you think-”

“Working late,” you count on your fingers, “coming home later than the course needs him to, smelling like perfume. Do you need me to go on?”

“Did you talk to him about it?”

“Yes,” you nod sharply, “but apparently it’s a secret I’m not supposed to know.”

Makki sighs. “It really is, I know it and it’s supposed to be a surprise.”

You freeze. Makki dares to show a small smile and you look up at him, surprised at your own feelings.

“I was actually kinda relieved,” you admit, voice hollow, “because that would have explained why he doesn’t want to spend time with me anymore.”

-x-

It’s hard, getting up in the morning after your first - and worst - breakup.

It’s hard, getting through the day and coming home again only to realize that this is it. This apartment will never be filled with life again, not in the way it was supposed to be. 

Makki only leaves your side for work, sleeping on the Couch as if it’s his bed and not a torture instrument created to destroy your back muscles. 

You think it’s sweet of him until you realize that Mattsun’s probably camping out in Makki’s apartment now. 

All the friends you have are tied to the two of you.

And while none of them pick sides, you kinda want them to.

You want them to tell you that this is wrong. That you should have stayed, that you should have tried harder. 

Because if everyone’s just sympathetic, doesn’t that mean you don’t have any chance to mend this? To have a future with Mattsun in it?

You’re not home when Mattsun comes to pick up most of his things.

All those feelings come back up again at the sight of empty spaces where his things should have been.

The mountain of blankets because he likes to wrap himself like a Burrito. His movie collection. The sweaters you loved to curl up in when he wasn’t around.

But he left the shower curtain and seeing that still hanging feels like the worst betrayal, a knife straight to the heart. 

You’re not doing the best job taking it down, but you’d rather spray water everywhere than look at it again, be reminded of what could have been but didn’t.

-

This time he wakes you up.

Makki must have told him, managed to get a hold of him between classes and work and this stupid course. You can see it in his face, can feel it in the way he holds you, not too close but never too far.

“I’m not cheating on you,” he assures you, shadows under his eyes from not sleeping enough, hair disheveled and sweaty, “I swear, I promise, I’d never do something like that.”

And maybe it’s the late night or the loneliness, watching him be so nonchalant about all the time spent apart, or something else you haven’t yet faced, but the words slip out like snakes, quiet, quick, and unstoppable.

“I want a break.”

“A break?” His voice is high, frightened, like that time he dragged you to a haunted house and realized he’s so much worse at getting through them than you are.

“A break. I can’t go on like this. I don’t see you anymore. I don’t… I don’t know if I love you anymore.”

Mattsun sinks into himself, shrinks until he’s barely tall enough to look at you. 

This is what you did to him, you think, this is what he did to you.

“A break like Rachel or a break like Ross?” He asks, voice wavering.

You stare at the wall behind him, at the absence of a mess in the bedroom because you keep it tidy and he falls asleep on the Couch more often than not.

“Like Ross,” you say because you’ve always believed in clean cuts over jagged edges.

The worst thing is that he doesn’t fight.

Mattsun doesn’t argue with you over the end of your relationship.

If he had, this might have turned out differently.

But he doesn’t, he just sneaks back to the Couch in the living room, curls up in the blankets like a dog that’s been banished to his corner.

He doesn’t even wake up when you sneak outside, unable to sleep, unable to stay in one place.

It’s not Mattsun who finds you at the swingset, the place you always go to when you have to think.

It’s Makki.

Leave a tip?

[bruhhhh-huhhhhh]

Such Small Hands

Junkerqueen x gn!reader

Reader has a nightmare. Allusions to reader having a panic attack. Lots of comfort

The night had started off okay enough. Odessa had to step out for a little bit while you were falling asleep, leaving your subconscious to go haywire. It always did when she wasn’t there as you fell asleep, after all. Sometimes it even did when she was there. 

Things were okay at first. The dream had started off normally. But then it got worse and worse. Your brain made you live out your worst nightmares. Dez leaving. You being forced to leave. Her dying. You dying without her. Coming home to find her dead. Over and over again. It was hell. You never understood why your brain hated you so much. Why it always insisted on putting you through the most horrific things it could think of. 

You woke up in a cold sweat and unable to breathe. It was as if someone had come and stolen your breath from you while you slept. You laid a hand on your chest, trying to force it into moving again. Odessa still wasn’t back, and that panicked you even more. What if one of those nightmares wasn’t really a nightmare? What if she really had left or died? 

The panic seemed to have multiplied at the thought, and any pretense of breathing that you had before seemed to be ripped away from you. You really couldn't breathe now, and that made you panic ever more. It was as if someone had shoved their arm down your throat and were gripping onto your heart so tightly that it was going to explode. 

Just as you felt that you were going to pass out, Odessa came back into the bedroom. What a sight you must be to her. A hand to your chest and your face pale, wide eyed and scared. Your girlfriend instantly made her way to the bed, taking the hand on your chest into her own.

“Breathe, love. In and out, you can do it,” she assured. You tried, really you did. But it just wasn’t working. Every time you tried to breathe in it was like something clogged your lungs, stopping the air from getting to where it needed to go. When Odessa realized this, she placed your hand over her heart and said, “Do it with me.”

She breathed in, her chest rising. You tried to copy, and this time it worked. She breathed out, and so did you. You continued like this for a while until you could finally do it on your own. Still, your hand on her chest never moved. It was reassuring, feeling her heartbeat. 

Odessa got into the bed, holding you in her arms. Your head was on her chest, listening to her heartbeat as she raked her hand up and down your back. Her sports bra that she had on was slowly getting damp, which confused you. It wasn’t until you brought a hand up to your cheek that you realized you were crying. With how badly your head hurt, you’ve probably been crying for a while. 

“Do ya wanna talk about it?” Dessa asked, looking down at you. She was void of the makeup that she normally wore. Her lip piercing was out and her hair was down, all things that you normally only saw during bed time. You couldn’t help but find her striking, even without all of her touch ups that she dedicated an hour to every morning.

“Nightmares,” you mumble. “So many nightmares. You died or you left and I had to watch. Or I died or had to leave and you weren’t there. And every time, there was nothing I could do. Sometimes I’d kill you. Other times you’d scream at me before leaving. It was constant. And I woke up and you were gone and I just…”

Dez hummed in discontent but nodded. She knew what you meant, even when you didn’t or couldn’t say it. 

“I ain’t leaving. Not if I can help it. I ain’t ever gonna leave you alone, babe. Gonna keep you with me always, even if I shouldn’t. Love showing you off far too much to leave you by yourself,” she said, running a hand through your hair.

“Promise?”

“I promise. Hell, I’ll even pinky swear if it makes you feel better.”

Hesitantly, you brought your hand up with your pinky outstretched. Dez chuckled and brought her own hand up, interlocking her pinky with yours. When you finally let go, Dessa put her hand on your cheeks and wiped away any stray tears. “Go on and sleep. I promise I’ll fight off any nightmares and I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

“My savior,” you said, a smile starting to spread across your face. 

“Damn straight. Now sleep, I’m gonna take you around town tomorrow. We’re overdue for a date anyway.”

You let your head lay on her chest again, letting your girlfriend’s heartbeat lull you back to sleep. Odessa stayed up until she was sure that you were asleep before kissing the top of your head and going to bed herself.

~~~ Hey look I finally uploaded

@colemorrison

[prettyyoungandbored]

I know your requests are closed but for when you have them open up can you please write a part two to this? I loved it and only just found it!

https://www.tumblr.com/prettyyoungandbored/693080581256462336/can-you-please-write-some-more-christian

Here’s to you, to everyone who gave the one shot some love, and to the movie’s 15th anniversary.

Pregnant [Bale!Bruce Wayne]: Part 2

Pairing: Christian Bale!Bruce Wayne x Reader

Warnings: Takes place after the events of “The Dark Knight” so major spoilers.

Sequel to this story

NOT MY GIF

ONE YEAR LATER

Y/N opened her eyes, welcomed by the soft touch of moonlight peering through the bedroom window.

She glanced over her shoulder to find Bruce’s side of the bed empty and still untouched, indicating he had yet to come to bed.

She wasn’t surprised nor concerned, having spent years dealing with his Batman patrol. Even after Bruce gave up being the masked crusader and the two settled into Wayne Manor, there were some nights he spent wide awake.

Realizing she wouldn’t get some sleep for a bite, she threw off the covers and padded quietly down the hall into her baby’s nursery.

Damian Wayne was born in August and quickly became the apple of his parent’s eyes. He was the perfect blend of Bruce and Y/N and the happiest baby in the world.

The glow of the nightlight from inside the nursery peered into the hallway, indicating the door was open and that Bruce was more than likely in there. Sure enough, that’s where she found him. He sat in the rocking chair, cradling their sleeping baby boy in his arms.

“Look at my favorite guys,” Y/N cooed quietly. “Was he crying earlier?”

Bruce nodded, giving her a small smile. “I was up anyway. Figured I’d let you rest.”

She took a seat on the foot stool facing the chair, admiring the view in front of her. “I love seeing you with him. It’s my favorite thing in the world.”

“I could say the same about you,” Bruce remarked. “I love watching you walk around the manor holding him.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat as her eyes met his. Even after all this time, his gaze made her melt into a puddle.

“Remember when I told you I was pregnant?” she brought up. “How terrified I was?”

Bruce’s chuckled. “It was the greatest thing you’d ever said to me. Besides, of course, ‘I do.’”

The memory played out in her head. “I spent the whole night fighting the urge to put my hand on my stomach. I didn’t want anyone to know.” She paused. “By the time I was about to tell Rachel, you threw me into a closet.”

He let out a small laugh. “I threw you into a closet to save your life.”

“Yes you did. Saved both of our lives.”

Bruce’s smile faded softly as he shifted their focus to their son.

Y/N avoided bringing up his Batman days, knowing that the end of it nearly killed him. It took him a long time to come back from it, and even then he still wasn’t fully back.

“You…” her voice trailed off

His eyes met hers. “What?”

“You’re still my hero. Despite everything, you are and always will be. Bruce Wayne was my hero before I knew about Batman.” She paused. “And as far as Damian is concerned, you’ll always be his.”

The soft gaze on his face nearly broke her. It was as if he’d waited a lifetime for someone to say that to him. His attention shifted to Damian.

“When you told me you were pregnant, I knew right then and there it all had to end,” he said. “My father spent more time fighting for the city and while he was present for me and my mother, it still was his biggest concern. I wasn’t gonna let that happen. Not with what happened to them.”

His eyes met hers. “I will always regret the way it ended. Always. It will haunt me for as long as I live. But walking away will never be something I regret. If it keeps my family safe, that’s all that matters.”

Y/N pulled back her lips, fighting the tears that pooled in her eyes. She knew he didn’t want to end it the way he did. Not when it cost two lives.

“Has it really been a year?” Y/N spoke up, a slight tremble in her voice.

Rachel’s death plagued the couple enough that by the time the one year anniversary had come, they were all cried out. Still, it hung over them throughout the day. The couple made a silent agreement to avoid acknowledging it.

That was until now.

“It has,” Bruce answered. “Still feels like yesterday.”

Y/N exhaled. “I think about her every single day.”

He reached his hand over, giving hers a squeeze as if to say he did too. He still couldn’t bring himself to say it, but he found other ways to express it that Y/N understood.

“Thank you,” he said. “Without you, I don’t think I would’ve survived.”

She squeezed his hand. “I wouldn’t have survived without you either.”

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too.”

[maidflowery]

Fortified Wager ♣♣♣ 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 8

♦︎♦︎ Aventurine x Reader ♦︎♦︎ 𝕀𝕝𝕝𝕦𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕕

🄱🄰🄲🄺 🅃🄾 【Ｃｈａｐｔｅｒ 7】

𝕋𝕒𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕠𝕗 ℂ𝕠𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕥

𝐂𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝐕𝐒 𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐁𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 (𝟏)

╔══ ≪ ♥♦♥ ≫ ══╗

“See? You should have just kept quiet and done as you were told. The truth is, I actually like you. You’re quiet and obedient.”

When Big Baddie stood up, you realized he was twice your size.

So, you let the gems fall, teetering on the edge of the table as bait.

Sorry, Aventurine.

Meanwhile, you let your watch slid over your knuckle as a makeshift brass knuckle. There was no way you’d deal any real damage otherwise.

“I was just trying to save you, you know? I’m sure you also don’t know this, but that Avgin slave over there killed his owner.”

The moment he leaned in, eager to grab a hold of the gems, you swung your fist straight into his face!

“Of course I know, you piece of shit!

Otherwise, what kind of Aventurine’s fan were you?

“Uuoorrggh—!!”

As your fist connected with his nose, you felt the sharp impact reverberate through your knuckles, followed by a sudden, jarring crunch. Big Baddie took the punch square in the face and staggered backward. Soon, he lost his balance and fell, crashing to the ground in a heap.

Regret always came too late.

As you watched your wristwatch fell, shattering its glass on the floor, you realized you still loved it after all!! Also, your hand hurt like a bitch! Shit! Fuck! You could feel tears welling up in your eyes.

Above all, you were furious.

Aventurine never even brought up his past, so who the fuck gave this guy the right to do so?!

You recalled how the pair of violet-cyan eyes looked so lifeless and devoid of emotion the moment his past was mentioned. It was clearly something difficult—something he preferred to keep private, and for obvious reasons.

If Aventurine were a male lead in a romance novel, it would have taken over 100 chapters and three different arcs before he revealed his past!! Even then, it would be only to the person he trusted most, someone he felt comfortable being vulnerable with!! That was just how delicate this was!!

And yet, and yet... this guy, heartlessly, in front of everyone...

In the past, Aventurine's entire family and clan were massacred by their enemies. Though he survived the ordeal, he was soon enslaved. Only God knows the depths of trauma and torment he suffered at their hands—enough to drive him to kill.

“—Hahahaha! Of course! Of course she doesn’t know! That's what you get for letting his looks fool you!”

“Do you know how hard I’ve been holding back my laugh?! I was wondering how to break the news this whole time! Hahahaha!”

Of course, taking a life was rarely, if ever, justified.

But that is not a reason to laugh at or shame him?! Especially not this bastard, who drove two innocent children to seek revenge!!

A single tear rolled down your cheek. Regret, anger, sorrow and pain washed over you all at once—mostly pain.

While shaking your stinging hand like crazy, you screamed at Big Baddie, “But so what—?! So what if he killed his master?!”

If you were beaten within an inch of your life every day and treated far worse than an animal, what would you do?

If you had nothing left to live for but to await your death at the hands of your enslaver, how would you respond?

“—I’d have done the same!!”

Your shoulders heaved up and down as you struggled to regain composure. All you knew was that you were ranting out of sheer rage.

“Shut up!!” Big Baddie stood up while covering his nose. He glowered at you like a beast, blood oozing out of his hands. “You're just a pathetic slut serving tables!! Do you really think I can't destroy you?! That worthless slave won't protect you from me!!”

“...!”

You instantly went quiet.

Seeing this, Big Baddie grinned with triumph, blood staining his gold and white teeth.

...That’s right.

Back when you were merely a third party, you could easily dismiss the whole incident with Big Baddie as "unreasonable." As much as you hated to admit it, you didn’t see it as that big of a deal.

Why didn’t the staff just skirt around the problem, make some excuses, and feign ignorance? Or, even better yet, fight back. Then, call the authority if things escalated. Easy-peasy.

Well, the reason, as it turned out, was plain and simple.

It was the same reason you didn’t pick a fight with every professor who imposed outrageous assignments or feedbacks on you. Or why you hadn’t shoved your middle finger down Erin’s—your actual manager at the restaurant you actually worked at—prissy throat yet.

Because you’d be a dropout and without a job. Now, you wouldn’t say that you knew how every single staff in Primavera felt, but you certainly wouldn’t survive without your job, let alone switch colleges.

Facing against Billy Burnett, the infamous iron-fisted loan-shark, the stakes were even higher. One wrong move, and your entire life could be in jeopardy.

“Need I remind you what kind of authority they have? A single word from them could ruin the lives of many. I wouldn’t care if you’re the only one affected, but I also have something to protect, so stay in your lane.”

You recalled Marius’ words.

You wouldn’t blame him either—or anyone, for that matter. Everyone had their own circumstances. It was called “picking your battles.”

Which was why, only you could do this.

If it wasn’t you—who would?

You grinned.

Thanks for the reminder, Big Baddie.

Thus, as the waiter of the high-end nightclub Primavera, you shot back, “Watch your language! Aventurine is one of our most valued customers, and we do not tolerate any form of abuse or mistreatment toward him!”

“Wha—?!”

Big Baddie had a dumb look on his face. Perhaps this was the first time someone had called him out so boldly.

Also, you weren’t even lying!! Who else could singlehandedly quadruple the profit of a luxurious nightclub?! Calling him Primavera Jesus would be more fitting! Obviously, the staff would want to cling to him—especially after what you were about to do in their uniform, using their name!

While Big Baddie was still flabbergasted, you continued.

“—Given that this behavior has persisted, we are left with no choice but to ask you to leave and ban you from returning!”

After enduring his tyranny for so long, those were likely the words the staff had been dying to say, but couldn’t.

Then, your gaze briefly landed on your crisp, black uniform. Her uniform.

Of course, you wouldn’t pretend to understand how Judith felt either.

Still, when everyone else was too terrified or stunned to do anything, her manager took a punch in the face for her. If you were her, you’d be happy, knowing that most managers out there wouldn’t do even half as much—and at the same time, sad. But above all, angry.

So, you thought of saying this for her.

“—Also, that’s for punching my manager, asshole!!!”

Yes, only you, or specifically, Aschenputtel, could do this.

Aschenputtel, who was destined to lost her job either way. Aschenputtel, who had neither family nor friends, and would disappear past midnight.

Hence, you, Aschenputtel, decided—

—I’m taking you down with me, Big Baddie.

╚══════╝

🄾🄽🅆🄰🅁🄳 🅃🄾 【Ｃｈａｐｔｅｒ ９】

I realized that at the rate I was doing it before, the update will only come once a month, or even 2 months in case anything happened. ૮(˶ㅠ︿ㅠ)ა I don't want to keep you guys hanging for that long. So I decided to post it as soon as a part is finished. Do tell me if any of you prefer that I just finish it as a whole before updating :D

[stayandot8]

Drawn To You

Genre: fluff?? i guess??

Relationship type: idol!(lowkeytsundere)Seungmin x I.N's bestie reader

Important Contents: requested, i hope you enjoy my second Seungmin piece

WC: 4k

masterlist

I’d known Jeongin since we were kids. I was about a year older, but he’d always been there for me since the young days, before he became this huge kpop idol star with his group. But after I went away, our friendship strained. 

The problem was that I didn’t tell him that I applied for school overseas in America. I needed to get out of our town, on to bigger things, and that upset him. We told each other everything. Everything…except that. He understood, like the amazing friend he was, but as he pursued his own dream, his time was harder to come by. The questions about America came fewer and slower, phone calls went from everyday to twice a week to once a month until the only time I heard from him was when he thought of me in between recording sessions. He always texted me after recording, something about needing to know I was behind him. I always knew he’d be a famous singer. His voice was always unique. Now the world was getting to see what I already knew as fact. And I was damn proud of him. I made sure to tell him every chance I got. Or at least I tried, because those opportunities came fewer and fewer as the years went on.

 What I didn’t realize until I was already there was that America was not what I wanted. But my family had already paid my way through for me to get there and start, so I owed it to them to finish what I started. No, begged them for. I had to do it. Not just for me, but for them too now. And when I finished, degree in hand (well, suitcase), I traipsed back to Korea like my life depended on it. Why? Well… because it did.

The almost 16 hour plane ride was full of going from one book to another to my music apps and podcasts, fighting the impending boredom that came with the “adventure” in a tin can in the sky. The in-house wifi was holding up as best it could and my laptop was on the brink of overheating for the last hour. My mother’s last text before I took off popped up on my side window of messages. 

Mother: Little Jeonginnie is blowing up big now! You would be so proud of him. He’s come so far since you’ve last seen him. 

Jeonginnie?? I remembered the nickname she gave him and couldn’t stop the gagging noise from escaping in the middle of standing in line to board. The woman in front of me gave me a weird look. I stared back at her, glaring until she turned back around and started walking. I grimaced at my phone before I turned it on Airplane mode and put it in my pocket. What could be so different about him now? Had he grown that much? He couldn’t be much taller. I had always been taller than him, ever since we were kids. My mother blamed my father, saying it was his side of the family that gave me such a…problem. But I didn’t mind. It made it easier to scare off the boys I didn’t like. It also made it harder to find ones I did  like that weren’t intimidated but… whatever. This was the way it had always been.

My mom has been looking forward to this day since I left, crying on the phone that she was ‘so excited to have her baby home again’ that I was sure she would chain me to the kitchen sink to prevent me from leaving again. She claimed the house hadn’t been the same since I left, and by the looks of it, it was obvious. It was missing its usual…lived-in charm that I had apparently brought to it. The pillows were too erect, too fluffed. The kitchen counter was too clean, not a stain nor trace of midnight ramen seasoning on the counter. It wasn’t quite…home. It was a space for my parents to entertain. Which is exactly how I ended up face to face with Jeongin in my living room, arms wide open and looking like… a man. 

He was tall now too. His hair was blonde now and styled, even on his day off. It looked good. And his arms had filled out, no longer the sticks they used to be. Someone had gotten him into working out. Must be his older members… At least his smile was the same. Bright as ever, he stumbled over towards me and threw his arms around me with all his might. 

“Noona! You’re back! I can’t believe you’re back, I never thought I’d be home to see it.” His dimples showed so deep that I didn’t realize how much I had missed the sight of them. They were the kind you could swim in, the kind you wanted to roll out like they were made of dough. Which explained why his fans and members called him Baby Bread. His whole face was squishy just like it had been when I left. Except now, the rest of him wasn’t nearly as squishy. It made me second guess myself a little too much. I shook my head, trying to shake the thought. 

“Yeah yeah yeah. I came back because I saw you all over the internet, even over in America! What could you possibly be doing over there?!”

“It’s my band! We’re going everywhere now, I can’t stand to believe it sometimes. I still have a hard time believing it. But you’re finally back from school! How was your last year?! Tell me everything!”

Thus began a very long and tiring story of my senior year of college, everything from the parent-safe topics like classes and academics and American friends I made until our mothers left for the kitchen to make dinner. Then we moved onto the not so safe for parents ears, such as the hookups, the drama, and all of the bullshit that went down without my mother’s knowledge. He laughed when he was supposed to, he nodded at appropriate times, it was like he was using his media training on me and I couldn't help but laugh. He was mid-question and he stopped to tilt his head.

“What? What’s so funny?” He smiled again when I couldn’t keep it in anymore.

“I’m sorry, I just can’t help it. You’ve gotten very good at listening. If I remember correctly, you weren’t able to sit still and listen to me say more than three sentences at a time.”

“That’s because you learned how to tell an interesting story. College was good for something!” That dazzling smile emerged again and I was thinking those weird thoughts again. It wasn’t that I had thoughts of possibly liking him, it was just that the thought of it didn’t repulse me like it once did. It puzzled me. 

“Yeah yeah yeah. So tell me about your group! What’s everyone like? Is it true what they say online about you guys?”

“Well, I don’t know what you’ve seen so I don’t know whether to say yes or no.” He laughed and sat back in his chair. “But things have been going really well! We’re starting up our tour right now, we have our first stop in two days in Seoul. You should come! I want you to meet everyone.” I’d read a little about them while on the plane, just to take a peak at what my friend had been up to in the years I’d been gone. There were eight of them now, and they all brought something special to the group, at least according to Stay, their fans. I knew who was who and that was about it. It was like I had met them already. “Come on, Noona. You can meet everyone tomorrow if you want to, before the concert. Auntie can come too.” I looked at him with wide eyes and hit his leg when he started to crack up.

“You are not funny, Yang Jeongin.”

His inhaling laughter told me he thought otherwise.

*

Strolling by our favorite cafe, the memories came back to me in waves. Between Jeongin cracking jokes about people who were walking by and me trying to keep him from wandering into the street. Our relationship had shifted constantly from friends to siblings of sorts. Being an only child hadn’t provided a lot of opportunities for the older sister types of activities I had itched for so I happened to find them with Jeongin. Everything I had dreamed about being an older sister, I had with him. It helped me feel…complete somehow.

Jeongin thought later that it would be better if I met some of the members little by little. But then I recieved a text countering that idea, stating that the when the others heard what was happening, they jump in the car bfore he could protest. He decided that he wanted to bring us all here, a place of comfort to me and somewhere he’d always wanted to bring them. He had told me the ones he lived with were the ones that would really test how I would get along with the rest of them since they were the ones who were ‘harder to read’ or something.  I didn’t know which ones were the ones he lived with, only knew their names and faces in the group. I wondered if I’d need to do anything special to impress them or being my simple self would do. Jeongin told me to just be myself,  but if these guys were anything like him, they didn’t really care who I was. They probably had people fawning over them constantly so maybe as long as I acted like I didn’t care, it might turn out in my favor. Not that I really cared if they liked me, but it’s always nice to make friends. 

Walking up to the place I saw them all sitting at a table just chatting, like they were just regular people. They all had hats on, some backwards, and a mix of tshirts and sweats and jeans. One that I recognized, Lee Know, had his hat on backwards and his blonde hair was peeking out. It was then that I realized what Stays were talking about with him; he was prettier in real life. Like, a scary kind of pretty. 

Felix on the other hand, was an ethereal kind of pretty with a soft exterior to balance Lee Know’s sharp features. It was a quick reveal to why they called him sunshine. Even with his dark hair, he radiated warmth and empathy. Like you could tell him anything and he would do everything in his power to help or just to listen. His hat was on sideways, like the boy next to him had moved it and he just hadn’t changed it back.

The boy next to him had his hat on straight. I gathered that one was Seungmin because of his baseball t-shirt. Stays knew he loved baseball, saying he would’ve become a baseball player if he hadn’t chosen this path in life. He was the only one watching me walk up to them, catching my eye and staring holes into my head. I didn’t drop his gaze, having the gut feeling that he was watching me for a reason. I just couldn’t point a finger as to why.

Right at the perfect moment, Jeongin turned around to see me approaching, his broad smile only growing wider. 

“Over here!” He was waving me over to the empty seat beside him and Chan, a plate in front of it with a croissant on its center. A glass full of cream-colored liquid was placed in front of that empty seat, waiting for me. He still knew some things about me, proving the years of friendship withstood the idol training I was sure he went through. It didn’t break the kindness in him. 

His smile didn’t fade the closer I got. In fact, I would argue that it got bigger and brighter, only matched by Felix’s with his blonde hair shining in the sun. They all stood when I finally approached the table, awaiting formal introductions from Jeongin.

“Everyone, this is my childhood best friend. She just moved back from the States and she’s coming to the show tonight so we have to do our best for her.” He was still beaming even after he finished, and all the boys took their turns introducing themselves in order around the table. Seungmin was the last, confirming my suspicion that he was the one that was seated beside me. He said his name, not quite smiling or even a polite grimace like Lee Know had. No, he was just staring at me with wide eyes.

“Do I have something on my face?” I whispered to him, trying to break free of his glare. He shook his head. 

“No.” And with that he sat back down, staring at his mug with a slight rosy blush creeping along his cheeks.

Well that was simple enough. I sat back down in the chair and reached for the glass in front of me. “Thanks for ordering for me, I can’t believe you remembered.”

“I was just hoping that your tastebuds hadn’t changed. You’ve been abroad now, you could have acquired an American tongue.”

“Nope, still the same old same old for me. I’m not so easily influenced by others, Innie, you know this.”

“This is true.” He turned to the others. “She once had the whole class trying to tell her that she had something in her hair and she refused to believe it until someone held up a mirror for her!” He started laughing, reliving the memory. The rest of the group chuckled along with him. Then Chan spoke up.

“So what was Jeongin like in school? We only know a little bit, but what was he like as a kid?”

“Oh he was something else. Some days he would be the best little angel ever and others, he would be bouncing off the walls. I never knew what kind of friend I was getting each day. He was a wild card.” I smiled back at Jeongin. “But he’s better now. Now he’s all grown up and singing and dancing with you guys. It's fun to watch.”

“I can’t wait to hear what you think about the show tonight.” The short, dark-haired one, Han, piped up excitedly. “We’ve been working on it for a while. I’m just excited to show Stay. They’re going to love it.”

“Stay is-”

“Your fan base. I know. I might have done some research on the plane ride back.” Jeongin nodded, impressed.

“What else did you find in your ‘research’?” Hyunjin asked. Stay was right, he was prettier in person. Pictures didn’t do him justice. Pictures didn’t do any of them justice. 

“Oh, this and that. I saw something about you being a painter and Chan doesn’t sleep.”

“That about sums me up.” Chan laughed, Hyunjin along with him nodding. “What else did you find?”

“Let’s see… Lee Know-” The boy perked up, now listening closely. “-seems cold but cares the most. Also a great dancer.” Lee Know nodded. “Changbin works out a lot and is quite loud. Can’t wait to find out if that’s actually true or not.”

“It is.” Jeongin rolled his eyes. I laughed. 

“Han is also loud but very funny. And Felix is the cuddle bug.” Felix nodded along with Han. 

“Stay knows us pretty well.”

“And Seungmin…” I paused, not knowing which Stay fact to bring up first. Seungmin was watching me think, like he could watch all of the thoughts going around and around in my head. It was almost like a challenge. “Seungmin is a mystery. He can rap but he doesn’t unless asked. Stay is waiting for a rap part for him, by the way. He’s a ‘quiet-carer’, like Lee Know. And he says some of the most out-of-pocket stuff anyone has ever heard, making him hilarious as well.” Seungmin’s lip twitched, cracking into a smirk. 

“You’ve got it.” He continued smirking, watching my lips move as I spoke. They flickered between my eyes and the other features of my face. It was like I was hypnotized. I couldn’t look away from his features, his eyes locking on mine and watching my every move. I felt my heart beating against my chest bone, hitting it in time with every second that passed by. And then, all of sudden, it stopped beating altogether. And then it was just us. We weren’t outside anymore, it was real-life tunnel vision. He watched me and I watched him just looking at each other. 

And then a sharp cough from somewhere in the distance. 

Seugnmin broke the contact first, looking everywhere to find where the sound that dare interrupt our moment had come from. 

Jeongin had let out one of his signature grandfather coughs again, his eyes wide open watching me and his band mate. 

“I don’t think Seungmin-hyung is that mysterious. And I live with him. Just stay out of his stuff and you’ll be fine.” The boys nodded in agreement, not paying attention to their younger members. “That’s a little tougher for some than others.” He let out another pointed cough. 

“It was ONE TIME.” Felix exclaimed, righteous with indignation and the others bursted out laughing, including Seungmin. I couldn’t help but notice his cheeks pushing up to his eyes when he laughed for real, as opposed to his chuckle earlier while talking to me directly.  

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. 

*

This place was packed, people of all ages everywhere in various colorful outfits and carrying lightsticks were bouncing all over the place on their way out of the stadium. Girls running to the merchandise lines after the show to grab whatever was left, older moms peering over the crowd to find whomever they were looking for, and venue staff were scattered all around the place, the energy from the concert still setting the place abuzz. 

The show was amazing. I didn’t realize how talented Jeongin was. I knew he would go far in whatever he decided to do in life, but I never knew how far he was really going. It was palpable; the boys loved him. All of them. The way they teased him was reminiscent of how I teased him growing up. He really found a family in all of them. I was happy for him, really.

I watched off to the side in clear view of all of them surrounded by some very passionate fans, bound to get rowdier as the boys kept making their way over. Jeongin made sure to shout me out in his speech in the beginning, saying that he was so excited to perform in front of his childhood friends so as not to make it too obvious who I was. Seungmin found me almost immediately because he was dancing near my side. It was just like earlier; my eyes were drawn to him. The way his body moved, I couldn’t help but watch him even if I was supposed to be watching all of them. My excuse to Jeongin would be that he was the only one right in front of me, but I knew the truth.

 He was doing it on purpose. There was no way he wasn’t. Because everytime he came over my way, he found me again and waved to everyone around me. There was a small voice in the back of my head that was telling me it was meant for me. Or it could have been the smirk that followed his big smile while he waved to everyone around me. While he may not have been looking directly at me when he got over to my side, he was definitely staring me down when he walked away and I watched him until his attention was elsewhere. The more he walked over to our side, the more the fans around me jumped and waved their arms, trying to get anyone’s attention from the stage. When they waved their arms, they narrowly missed my head, sometimes knocking me and causing me to stumble into someone else beside me. Some of these fans are nuts. These hits didn’t go unnoticed by Seungmin though. The way his face fell when they bumped into me caused his big smile to falter, sending the corners of his mouth downwards. The joy on his face disappeared as he stared in our direction, not taking his eyes off our section. He didn’t walk away until I stood back up and returned my attention to him. 

Weirdo.

I was waiting near the stage until a burly man wearing a Stray Kids t-shirt came in and waved me over to take me backstage. Down the dark hallway lit by the same fluorescent lights as the main stage was by now, I spotted a taller figure with dark hair leaning on the wall a ways away from us. He was wearing sweatpants and a sweatshirt from what I could tell while being so far away. As we drew closer, he spotted us as well and stood straight, coming to stand right in front of me. He smirked again, just as he had all night long but there was no malice coming from it. No, it was just a mild curiosity. He opened his mouth, possibly to say something snarky as his smirk suggested but just then, Jeongin appeared coming out of a door to our right. 

“Noona! What did you think? Were we any good?” Jeongin smiled brightly, eyes excitedly flicking from one to the other and back again, trying to find my answer. He reached for me, his hand grabbing mine quicker than I could realize what exactly he was reaching for. Seungmin’s gaze darted straight to where our hands connected and his stare could’ve started a fire. If looks could kill, I wouldn't have wanted to be Jeongin at that moment. His deep brown eyes had lost their warmth, void of any playful sparkle I had seen until now as Jeongin dragged me into their dressing room.

*

Next thing I knew, I found myself sitting on the Stray Kids Tour bus on the way back to the hotel for the night instead of in my car, heading back home. And somehow, Seungmin had found himself sitting beside me. Jeongin had escorted me onto the bus, but Seungmin had taken advantage of Jeongin going through his bag of belongings in another section of seats and slid in to occupy the one next to me. I just stared at him, Jeongin unaware of what had just occurred as he continued to shuffle through his bag.

“You’re in my seat.” was all Seungmin said to my stare. 

“So that means you have to sit as close to it as possible?”

“Yes.” And then he put his headphones on. I suspected he used this to avoid Jeongin’s questions because he had just put his bag away. I looked up just in time to see him look confusedly as Seungmin, who had his eyes glued to his phone now. Jeongin looked at me and I shrugged. He did the same and sat in the seat directly in front of me, lightly chuckling. I leaned forward, trying my best to ignore Seungmin’s thigh that was dangerously close to mine. 

“Why is he sitting next to me?”

“I don’t know. He’s a weird one.”

“He said I was sitting in his seat.” Jeongin’s brows furrowed. 

“He doesn’t sit there. He sits near the front most times.” 

I sat back in my seat, bewildered. I nudged Seungmin’s arm until he took his headphones off and when he did, he raised his eyebrow at me. 

“You don’t sit here. What gives?”

“I’m waiting for you to figure it out.” He said with another smirk, a permanent feature around me.

I sat back, stunned and taken aback. He just placed his headphones back on his ears, satisfied with his answer and returned to his phone. 

This was going to be a fun ride.