#to which she responds with ''oh i think he knows. everybody knows''

[howtodrawyourdragon]

Does Berk think Hiccup is frivolous in Httyd 1? Maybe a little bit aloof?

Stoick tells him to stop joking around in the opening scene of the movie, after the dagons have left. "This isn't a joke, Hiccup!" He tells him. And he tells him that after his rant about how he has things to worry about, like making sure the village doesn't starve in the coming winter, Hiccup answers to with a sassy "the village could do with a little less feeding, don't you think?" Which really only manages to make Stoick even more mad.

After their first lesson in dragon training, Gobber asks the class "where did Hiccup go wrong?" and Astrid's response is "he's never where he should be." I think she means it literally. Why is Hiccup, of all people, in dragon training? Ruffnut and Tuffnut make sense. Snotlout makes sense. Even Fishlegs makes sense. (especially since Fishlegs has already shown effort by memorizing the Book of Dragons, effort Astrid clearly approves of given her shock at the twins and Snotlout disregarding Gobber's order to read the book.)

But Hiccup? Hiccup McSassyPants? Who gets told that his village could starve in the winter and answers with "well maybe they should eat less"? Who steps outside during a raid and actually causes more damage than the dragons pretending he's capturing a Night Fury? What is he doing in dragon training? That class literally ended with Hiccup almost losing his life to a Gronckle.

This is further backed up when after she has to protect both herself and Hiccup from a Deadly Nadder, which happened because Hiccup wasn't paying attention the whole time, getting them both in trouble. (Which is because he's fixating on figuring out a certain Night Fury, but they don't know that. To them, it just looks like he's annoying Gobber with meaningless questions. Why are you asking about the Night Fury? The one dragon who's single instruction is "hide and pray it doesn't find you"?) She explicitly asks him "Is this some kind of a joke to you?"

Followed up by "Our parent's war is about to become ours. Figure out which side you're on."

Once again someone questions Hiccup about how serious he takes things. But it's more than that, she's trying to give him a wake up call! Wake up, Hiccup, our parents are actually fighting a genuine war here and someday it'll be your turn! Stop making everything a joke before you get yourself or someone else killed!

Astrid actually isn't as much against Hiccup at this point as people often believe. There are actually a few points in which she eithers feels sorry for him or tries to help him in her own Astrid-y way. (And if the deleted scene hadn't been deleted, there would've been an almost friendly conversation had between the two before dragon training even starts)

Let's also not forget Hiccup's and Stoick's talk before dragon training even starts. When Stoick shows some actual vulnerability by laying his son's life in his son's and Gobber's hands when he decides to give in and let Hiccup go to dragon training while he's off on a voyage.

Hiccup tells his father "I don't wanna fight dragons!" in a tone that is rather pleading. To which is father chuckles and says to him "come on, yes you do!"

Remember in the opening, Hiccup practically makes the claim that he lives and breathes to kill dragon, it's "who he is." And now he suddenly claims he doesn't want to fight dragons at all? Can't fight them?

Stoick keeps his tone light, telling his son that he will fight dragons, don't you worry about that, Hiccup. With Hiccup doubling down that he's very extra-sure that he can't fight dragons, which makes Stoick double down in return, his levity disappearing.

"Can you not hear me?" Hiccup asks, desperate to be heard.

"This is serious, son!" Says Stoick. Which makes this three times that Hiccup is explicitly told to take something serious. (And you can just see the disbelieve or realization in Hiccup's eyes as he's once again not being listened to.)

(Followed by Stoick telling him to act like everyone else and to stop being Hiccup, which gets him, you guessed it, a sarcastic remark from Hiccup.)

We know that Hiccup changed his mind about participating in dragon training because he found out he couldn't kill Toothless. (or rather, he can't kill the scared and the defenseless, as the Red Death would later show) But Stoick doesn't know that. Berk actually seems to know very little about Hiccup and that's why they think that he's joking around at all times.

I'm willing to bet that the "disasters" he causes "every time he steps outside" aren't much of a help either. (and I wonder how many of these are actually Hiccup's fault or if Hiccup happened to be involved, so the blame is just automatically put on him.)

And this isn't a post to bash Hiccup. I love him to death, I love his sass as much as any other fan. And I am very much of the opinion that Hiccup's sass is a defense mechanism.

His feelings get hurt, so he tries to hurt someone else's back. Like when he probably feels guilty about his father worrying about the village getting through the winter, so he makes that comment about how the village could eat less to offset that guilt. (Which again, only makes Stoick angrier.) And I think the proof is in the rest of the franchise.

Hiccup sasses the most when he's 15-16, a.k.a from Httyd 1 to DoB. But by the time we see him again in RttE (chronologically) he sasses a little less and in a friendlier and more playful context, but he has also matured to deal with his negative feelings differently. RttE is, chronologically, when Stoick actually begins to consider if his son is ready to be chief. He can see how much Hiccup has matured, especially when there's such physicaly distance between them. It's the equivalent of not seeing someone over summer break or watching someone go traveling and see how much they've changed when you reunite with them.

(also, he can knock Snotlout unconscious with a single punch, I bet that helps as well.)

But it is the way Hiccup chooses to defend himself, giving sassy comments (think "Thanks, I was trying!" to Snotlout's comment about the mess he made) to either painful comments about him or actual serious statements like the ones Stoick makes that still gets him in the feels that make him seem so shallow and unserious in the eyes of Berk.

Then there is his apparent history of crying wolf. When he actually does manage to shoot down a Night Fury, his father doesn't believe him and Hiccup explicitly says "this isn't like the last few times, I mean I really actually hit it! It went down!"

When you combine all of this, you get a teenager who doesn't appear to take anybody serious, including the lives of himself and others. Terrible traits to have as a person, let alone when you're the chief's son.

Somehow, a narrative of frivolity and aloofness was build around Hiccup that he just could not escape no matter how much he tried to crawl out of it. At some point, Berk put him in a box, marked it "jokester" and Hiccup's efforts to get out of that box only grew and grew. When his efforts failed, whenever he sassed back, Berk just pushed him even deeper into that box. Not looking further into what Hiccup actually needed or was trying to say.

Do I think Berk was right? Not at all, because this is all surface-level, things Hiccup legitimately says and does to protect himself and nobody realizes this.

Toothless doesn't speak a single word to him during the Forbidden Friendship scene, yet he can get across exactly what he expects from Hiccup (mainly "keep your distance, I don't trust you enough") without being mean about it. He doesn't snap, he doesn't bare his teeth. He just gives him faces that Hiccup understands. Only growling or hissing when Hiccup passes a boundary Toothless very clearly isn't comfortable with. (or, let's say, when his feelings are hurt, like when Hiccup steps on toothless' first drawing.)

And it's because he's not mean about it that he actually makes more progress with Hiccup in half a day than Berk does his entire 15 years.

And that's sad. That's what this post is about. About how sad it is that Berk takes Hiccup at a very shallow level and decides that must be his entire self as a person.

[thepitlanepress]

I DON'T LIKE IT –

↳ lando norris + bestfriend!reader

⌗ :: masterlist

⌗ :: a/n: im actually in a lando phase (maybe its bc i f1 is gone for months) but its effecting me so much so im blessing you all with JEALOUS/POSSESSIVE LANDOOOO AHHEHE. merry christmas my lovelies <33 (also if this is bad im sorry i was extremely tired when i wrote this lol)

usually you don't like going out with lando. the clubs, partying, drinking it wasn't exactly your scene.

so when he insists you come out with him to celebrate the constructors championship, you can't exactly say no. hence, the short fitting black dress, and nicely done, hair and makeup that you've put on. when you go out, you go out, it just doesn't happen very often.

"are you nearly done?" lando's voice calls out from the living room as he waits for you.

"yeah, i'm coming now," you call back, walking down the stairs and mentally preparing yourself to talk and interact with people.

you grab the car keys off the small table in the hallway and make your way into the living room your footsteps announcing your presence to lando, he turns around and slightly falters in his movements when he sees you.

"uh, wow, okay," he says looking you up and down slowly, his eyes raking over your body.

"what?" your brows bunch and you look down at your outfit. "i thought it looked good, is there something wrong?"

"uh... no, no, you look amazing, i just wasn't expecting you to look so nic-"

"you weren't expecting me to look nice?" you raise your voice playfully.

"no, no, no i- uh- no- look... shit," lando mutters looking down and shaking his head. "you look amazing, seriously. i just forgot how well you can pull off a black dress."

you smile, and chuck the keys towards him, "i can pull off anything lando norris, even you. and that's not something everybody can do." you wink and walk back out through the hallway to the car.

"you can pull off me?"

"yeah, not every girl can have lando norris on her arm and still be the centre of attention. there are perks to being your best friend you know."

"and there are perks to being yours," lando says unlocking the car and sliding into the drivers seat. you feel the safest when he's driving, always trusting him when he's behind the wheel.

"oh really?" you ask looking over at him. "like what?"

"you," he murmurs backing out of the driveway. you don't hear him though, too distracted by a text you received from your sister.

–––

he didn't like it, you could tell. was it the murderous looks he was sending in the direction of the guy's - who's name you've already forgotten - or was it the looks he was sending you, heated and something else? both probably.

he wasn't even focused on the crowd around him dancing and drinking their nights away.

when the guy started getting too handsy that is when you felt lando's hand wrap around your waist and causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach - which you promptly ignored.

"leave her alone, mate. she's mine," lando's voice comes out harsh his anger directed towards the man who steps back apologising - typical of him to only step back when another man steps in.

"oh sorry, i didn't know," he slurs and walks off, most likely to go puke in some poor person's handbag.

you're about to spin around in lando's arms and thank him for rescuing you but you stop short at the expression on his face. "what?" you look down at your outfit. "is it the same thing from earlier? what's wrong?"

"i don't like it."

"don't like what?" you ask furrowing your brows.

"when other people touch you," he responds quietly his voice low and tempting. thats new.

"oh," you reply slightly dumbfounded. in all your years of knowing lando norris you've always had hidden feelings for him, sure there were points when said feelings were buried deep deep down, but they were always there.

and you always thought they were never reciprocated but they way lando is looking at you right now is... something new. something you like... a lot.

"i don't like people thinking they can just touch you. they can't. because you're mine not theirs. you're my best friend. you're my person. you're not theirs to touch or hold or flirt with, because you're mine."

his arms tighten around your waist as if he's expecting you to run away at any moment.

"oh my," you breathe. "i don't know what to say."

"tell me you feel the same way, tell me that i can be yours, because you're mine, and i'm not letting you go anytime soon."

"possessive are we?" you chuckle trying to diffuse the tension because he's probably drunk, he's going to wake up in the morning and apologise about this insisting he doesn't know what he was talking about and how sorry he was.

its happened so many times before.

your heart gets crushed every time. so you don't go out with him to avoid it.

but tonight this feels different.

"i haven't had a sip of alcohol tonight, this is the most clearheaded i've ever been in a long time... please talk to me."

"lando," you whisper. your heart is teetering on the edge of being shattered to pieces and finally telling the truth. you're walking a thin line between the two hoping to fall on the right side. "i don't want this to be like those other times when you wake up in the morning apologising for what you say."

"i never meant those apologies. i remember all those nights, i lied," he breathes swaying with you to the music. "i freaked out in the morning because you would always want to talk about what happened, and your face was always so distrusting so i shut it down pretending i didn't know what happened."

"really?" you're tilting on the line, swaying from side to side waiting for the words that are going to make or break you.

"really. i've been in love with you ever since the day you stopped to pick a flower that reminded you of me."

"lando," you give him a look. "that was like the second time we met."

"and i've been yours ever since." he smiles at you, his eyes filled with clear adoration, which quickly turns to a pissed off look when someone steps up behind you and asks for a dance. "piss off mate, we're clearly talking."

you smile and don't even bother to look back at the man, everything you've ever wanted is standing in front of you and offering himself on a platter for you. and you're tired, so tired of staying on the ledge between friends and more,

so you take the leap.

pulling him imperceptibly closer you wrap your arms around his neck and hug him tightly whispering in his ear, "i'm yours too."

you can physically feel his body relax and mold around yours - a perfect fit of course.

if you fall, it will hurt for sure, but this moment, right now; flying with him, together, will be worth it if you do.

2024 © thepitlanepress | please do not steal, use, translate or repost any of my works

[strawberrymatchawhore]

away

toxic bf! rafe cameron x reader

"running away is easy, its the leaving thats hard."

summary- the camerons are in charge of the annual new years party this year, you along other kooks as well as the camerons distant family are invited to the estate to celebrate. you unknowingly strike up a conversation with one of rafes cousins whom he has always been in competition with since childhood, eventually having to deal with the consequences of your jealous boyfriend

warning/s- abusive relationship, slapping, degrading, choking, toxic ass relationship, mean rafe, reader is a crybaby, nutting inside as punishment, barely any aftercare, NON/DUBCON (reader lets him fuck to make him less pissed off) IF ANY OF THIS MAKES U UNCOMFY PLS DONT READ <3, etc.. im backkk pls enjoy and comment as well as repost apologies for being gone for so long lolsies 🙁

3 years ago you never would have pictured yourself where you are today, living in one of the finest estates of the island and dating one of the most popular and sought after members of this community. nor have you ever pictured yourself being in a a relationship where everyday was like stepping on eggshells and yet you never felt the urge to leave. you loved him too much to do so.

putting on silver dangly earrings as the final touch to your new years look, you turn to your boyfriend for approval. only to be met with a disgusted look on his face.

"why are you dressed like that"

"i thought you liked it? you bought it for me last week." you argued, folding your arms.

"yeah but i didn't think you'd wear it to a family event, i mean come on baby you look like a hooker." he pointed at the figure forming dress, your eyebrows furrowed. the dress was a maxi dress and the only thing revealing was the slight cleavage.

"never mind i'll just change" you exhale and quickly turn away to avoid starting an argument, but he grabs your arm and ushers for you to stay.

"you know what, lets go. we're already late." he leaves the room and you silently follow behind him.

.....

you and rafe walk through the door with your arm around his bicep, immediately you felt out of place. no one you knew were here and it was just random rich people. you felt your breathing begin to hitch and it continues to grow as you continue your walk into the kitchen to get drinks.

"i'll be back, stay right here." rafe orders and grabs a beer, leaving you to your thoughts.

"hey" a voice interrupted. you look up and see a tall brunette, someone you've never seen in this small island.

"uhm.. hi" you awkwardly respond back, giving a small smile which he returns.

"sorry did i interrupt? i saw you were by yourself so i thought maybe i should come and chat with you for a bit.. not that im calling you lonely. i mea- shit. im adrian by the way." he rambles and you cant help but laugh and slyly look around for your boyfriend. you know know how he gets when you talk to guys, and this guy seemed awfully familiar.

"no no, youre good. please. i was hoping someone would talk to me, everyones so intimidating here." you took another sip of your drink and lean against the marbled counter. who was this guy?

"i know right?! i thought my cousin was going to show up and greet me to everybody but i guess he's too good for that." he joked

"wow he seems like a handfu-" barely getting the response out, you instantly feel someone luring over you and harshly put their hand on your shoulder.

"what are you doing" you hear your boyfriends harsh voice whisper in your ear.

"oh hey man whats up" adrian says, they dap each other up but you could feel the tention behind it.

"i see youve met my girlfriend." rafes hand grabs your waist, massaging it. his fingers dig into your waist.

"i did, shes been a great chat." adrian responded, your jaw clenches and you bite your tongue. you feel your anxiety come back as you know youre about to dig your own grave.

"yeah she is huh. its getting kinda late though. i think we're gonna head out." before even hearing what adrian was going to say, rafe grabs your hand and starts to drag you outside.

"rafe what are you doing??? we just got here." you struggle to catch up with his long angry strides.

"do you think i give a fuck." you release yourself from his grip but he ends up pushing you up against his truck.

"i don-" his hand squeezes your throat, blocking your airways. it was 11 pm and everybody was inside, no one was seeing this.

"tell me. does it look like it?" he seethes, pushing you harder into the truck. you felt your tears start to form when his yelling is followed by his intense eye contact with you.

"no right? so get the fuck in the car." he opens the passenger seat and shoved you inside, slamming the door. rafe then gets into his seat and speeds off. you could tell by the silence and the way he was gripping the steering wheel that you were fucked.

......

rafe pulls up to the driveway and practically drags you inside, you were too scared to speak up. frightened at how much worst that would make his next moves be. pushing you into the guest bedroom he starts to speak up.

"why are you such a slut, i cant even leave you alone for 5 minutes without you trying to hop on my cousins dick." he scolds you, your body sits at the end of the bed in shame. hunching to make yourself smaller, mentally preparing yourself when you see him taking off his clothes.

"take this shit off." he grabs you and tugs on your dress. but you didnt hear him, you were too busy disassociating yourself away from him and this suffocating ass room.

"what'd i fucking say?" rafe slaps you and instead of giving you the time to take off the dress, he rips it and pins you by the wrists to the bed. he glares down at you before leaning down your neck and inhaling your scent and leaving dark bruises behind.

"i was thinking about fucking you real nice and slow tonight. but after you decided to act like a whore, i'm gonna treat you like one. how's that sound baby." he mocks you and caresses you clothed pussy before pulling them off your legs.

"rafe.." you whine when he uses his buff arms to spread your legs as much as they could go. you start to hyperventilate from his threat, and cover your face so you don't have to watch him violate you. his thumb rubs at your clit, and the other hand starts to stroke his cock. the tip showing how angry he truly was.

without a warning your boyfriend slams into your pussy, barley wet and prepped. you weren't adjusted to the size of him.

"ow fuck!" you squealed and immediately tried to seek comfort by grabbing onto rafe's bicep, this only seemed to piss him off more and he pulled out and flipped you onto your stomach.

"you're not allowed to touch me. just lay there and be a good fuck toy for me to use." he gives your ass a hard before forcing his way back into you, the burn and lack of proper lubrication makes you shoot up again but he didn't let you move an inch. this sort of roughness was familiar, yet every time it never fails to terrify you.

"stay the fuck down." his large hand pushes down on the middle of your back, naturally putting you into a face down ass up position. just the way he liked it. your body shakes and trembles in fear when your boyfriends thrusts get harder.

"rafe please it hurts so bad i cant take it" you sobs getting louder, rafe lowers himself closer to you and grabs your throat cutting off your breathing.

"your pussys sucking me right in angel, i think you can." he sneered, your crying and begging seemed to anticipate him even further as he loses all his restraint. you knew you couldn't stop him. its just the way your relationship worked.

he would get mad and then take his anger out on you, and youd let him. why? because you know what he's capable of, the holes displayed throughout your guys bedroom were everyday reminders to not push him too far. but in a way, it made you feel safe and wanted. rafe would do anything to protect you and keep you away from the dangers of the outside world.

"you're starting to get wet shitttt" rafe moaned and releases your throat, both his hands grab onto your hips for leverage as he speeds up his pace hitting the good spots deep inside you. not caring about how there was going to be fingermark bruises later. you hiccup as you try to control the sounds of your crying, using a pillow as comfort while he ruins you from behind.

inevitably your stomach starts to tighten and you feel yourself about to cum, your boyfriend moves one of his hands to your hair and tugs on it. resulting in a moan from you, the other hand moves down to your clit and rubs circles.

"you gonna cum baby? cum on my dick." he orders, he was fucking you so hard and greedily that the sounds of his thrusts and skin colliding were echoing in the room. your body caved into the sensations and you felt yourself fall apart on him.

"thats it squirt all over it, make a fucking mess for me. god you're such a little slut." he coos. the overstimulation of his cock hitting your cervix over and over again made you fucked out to the point of of passing out.

"so fucking tight" his vulgar words fill your ears, he gives your pussy rough slaps and you push against him. you yelped in surprise, eyes widening when you notice that rafes thrusts started to get sloppier.

"no.. no rafe! rafe you cant, we cant!" you protested in between moans, he only laughed in response. trying to push yourself away from him but he easily overpowered you. grabbing both of your arms and pinning them behind your back.

"dont tell me what to do, you did this to yourself." he breathes heavily as he filled you to the brim with him cum, he stayed there for a moment fucking it in as deep as he could before pulling out. enjoying the view of your pretty pussy sucking him right in. your eyes squinted in disgust when you felt his seed slide down your thighs.

rafe got up to clean himself but left you lying on the bed, you definitely werent walk right now and you were so overwhelmed with everything that happened. your conscious couldnt take anymore and your eyes starting tearing up.

"why are you crying." he sat on the edge of the bed and examined your state cluelessly. he scooted closer to you and opened the drawer next to the bed and grabbed a towel, cleaning you with it. you both sat in silence until rafe decided to pick you up and make his way to your actual bedroom.

"youre so mean to me.. you know that." you sniffle into his hard chest and draw circles on it with your finger. he doesn't respond but you know he heard it because he gave you a light squeeze before laying you down on the large bed. he takes his place next to you and turns away from you.

you sigh and turn to face his back, engulfing him in a hug. rafe initially tenses up but then relaxed in your arms. slowly you begin to knock out but before you do, you were sure you heard a brief

"im sorry" from rafe.

[cherry-leclerc]

method acting ☆ cl16

genre: angst, yearning, humor, fluff, journalist!reader, established relationship

word count: 13.2k

There’s a lot of things you’d like to do differently in life. And the weeks leading up to that night is one of them.

inspired by this, this, and this !

cherry here!… hello there. sooo this was supposed to go up a few days ago, but silly me scheduled the wrong date, haha, so this is me formally apologizing for that. on a more lighter note: i’m so excited for you guys to read this one considering this is the re-written version of ‘method acting’ if you guys even remember the original version. love u all very much, and enjoyyy :)

From his boyish smile, to his dominant smirk—you knew it all. 

The way it would slowly start to spread, but always ended with a dimple. You loved many things in life—many, many things—but nothing comes close to him. From the very start, he’s been gentle. A gentle giant, you’d sometimes joke with a teasing voice, to which he’d roll his eyes yet never deny. 

The way he’d start every sentence with—honey—and end with—I love you. The way he’d cradle your face between his hands, kissing the corner of your mouth first before pressing down completely. The way he’d translate for you with all the patience in the world. Everything about him had been so easy to learn, so easy to love.

But here, in a room, staring at each other, you begin to wonder if you ever knew him at all. Because suddenly you don’t know what the frown on his face means. What the furrowed brows with the pinched expression interpret to. You don’t know any of it. 

Why are you so surprised, though?

You caused this, anyways.

-

“I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that you don’t know how to use a USB, Lis. Aren’t you supposed to be, I don’t know—tech savvy?” 

Lissie aims a harsh glare before tapping her nail against the computer screen as if that might make the process a whole lot quicker. “So what? I lied on my resume. Everybody does it.”

You chuckle. “Who even uses USB’s nowadays?”

“Apparently Grandpa Will. Oh, yay, it's done!” She shimmies. “I’ll see you later, m’kay?” With that, she zips down the paddock without a second glance. You sigh, gathering your stuff and making your way down the busy crowd, heading straight towards Ferrari Hospitality. 

He’s on his computer when you first walk in, keys clicking. He nibbles on his bottom lip, knits his dark brows like he’s in pain. As soon as you tap your finger against the wall, he perks up, all his interest suddenly gone. He grins. “And to what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Lis,” you respond, claiming a seat next to him. 

The Monegasque hums, leaning in to kiss your lips swiftly. “Thank you, Elisabella.” You giggle, sneaking a quick peek at his open screen. “Whatcha’ workin’ on? Wait—let me guess. You’re getting your marriage license annulled?”

“To be with you, yes,” he agrees, nodding enthusiastically. “How do you think Joris is going to take it?”

A playful shrug. “He’s just going to have to accept it, no?”

“I suppose.” Snapping the computer shut, he fixes himself, head pressed softly against your lap, closing his eyes. The sight of his even breaths and curved nose makes you smile as you start threading your fingers through his hair. He sighs, tense shoulders instantly rolling back. “Journling, and whatnot. It’s a habit that has a near expiration date, for sure, but is quite nice as of now.”

And though he can’t see you, your neat brows raise up in surprise. “Journaling on an electronic device? Why not an actual journal? You know—something authentic. I actually know of a place back in Portland where they sell some cute ones, ver—”

“I’m not looking for cute. I’m looking for security.” A beat. “I’d lose it in a week, and we don’t want that happening, now do we? My laptop works just fine. Plus, I feel more at peace knowing it’s not something I will just leave behind.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you,” you declare, enjoying the way his lips twist with a childlike snarl. “Anyways, I’m glad you’ve picked up on a new hobby. It’s good for you, Charlie.”

“Learned from the best.” You blush. “By the way, media shouldn’t last longer than an hour? Wanna go out?”

“Aren’t you tired?” you question, forcing his eyelids open as he squirms, pushing your hand away.

“A little. But I still want to do something with you.”

A tired sigh. “Cute, but I can’t. Lissie and William are out for today, so it’s just me, which means I have to conduct all the interviews by myself.”

The brunette bats an eye. “Why?”

“She forgot she had a deadline—hence why I was busy helping her—and Will still has to look it over. They have to send it in by midnight and it’s—it’s a lot.”

“Why couldn’t she just email it?”

“That’s what I’m saying!” you screech, causing him to flinch and squeeze his eyes. Sheepishly, you pat his head. “He insisted on a USB. Says he wants all work done like the olden days.”

“That sucks,” he mumbles. “And who even uses USB’s nowadays? They’re so outdated.”

“That’s what I’m—” You stop, mid-sentence, lowering your voice when he sits up and scoots away. “Saying,” you finish, whispering. You purse your lips, sending a slight grimace. “You get it.”

Charles nods, standing up and placing his laptop into his duffel bag. “I’ll come back and pick you up, yeah? Meanwhile, I can maybe cook something for us.”

“Honey,” you coo. “I love you, but please don’t.” His face drops. What the fuck? You giggle. “How about take-out?”

“How about,” he mutters, stiff as a statue when you press your lips down onto his jaw, but quickly melts. “Chinese?”

“Sounds good.” Another peck. “I’ll call you!”

-

If you remember—and you do remember—you fell in love with writing ever since you watched The Devil Wears Prada. It was a reset for you because before that you had seriously considered going to law. At first, you started with column writing in your school's newspaper. No one ever read it, you’d always find it on the floor after being trampled on, but you never cared. 

Soon after, you started publishing smaller pieces here and there on your fashion blog that has since been taken down, but that was the moment you knew. Thing was, you wanted to nurture this into a career, you really did, but nothing to do with fashion, rather sports. 

Maybe it had to do with the fact that every Sunday your Grandpa would beg for you to come over to his house and watch the races with him. They were extremely boring at first. Who willingly drives for roughly two hours in loops? Then, it clicked. Everything changed and you were enthralled. 

After that, all you knew was that you wanted it bad. It was hard, studying over time in order to get done quickly and just start working, but it was well worth it. You met Lis the same year she started working with Formula One, so you both figured a lot of things out together, and for two years, it was just you and her, interviewing and writing about the drivers on the grid.

But he noticed you both years ago.

He first noticed the burn on the back of your left leg. He initially thought it was a band-aid by the way it healed, but later found out you had burned yourself with a curling iron back in highschool when you were rushing to get your senior pictures taken. Then he noticed your eyes and the way they always had a glimmer to them, even if something wasn't going your way. He respected the hell out of you after that.

 How do you do that? 

You freeze. Do what?

Stay so…so—optimistic. Happy, I suppose.

You laughed then, and he saw the way your hair fell over your shoulder like a silk curtain. He would have smiled if he wasn’t so stuck up on that. It’s all a facade. They way you see me—it’s not real.

Believe me, I don’t think you’re real.

You blush, looking back down at your journal where you’ve been too busy scribbling prior to his question. You just have to ignore them sometimes, you know? Remind yourself that they don’t know you and you don’t know them. Trust me, it helps.

And after that, you two never stopped talking. 

Whether it was about work, or perhaps even the weather, you two always had something going on. Something everyone noticed, but never brought up. And at one point, you confessed your next dream.

Journalist of the Year, he repeated, a goofy smile slowly itching his skin. Yeah, I can see that.

It’s not that easy, though, you retort, exhaling heavily. I mean, I’ve been doing this for quite a while now and I haven’t even been considered once, which is fine, maybe I’m not good enough, but maybe it’s also time to…I don’t know—give up?

He kept quiet, kept his eyes focused on you, and frowned. If it’s something you want, then it’s most likely something you can have. 

Pft, you scoff. Nah. Not this. It’s nearly unattainable for someone like me. Even Lissie has won, and we’ve been here for the same amount of years. Now I’m not saying she doesn’t deserve it, but that just comes to show that there’s always someone better. And I’m just here. You look up. It’s okay, you can laugh.

A beat. I could be a hypocrite to tell you that it’s not good to measure how talented you are or how talented you can be based on some award, but Jesus Chrsit, I do the same thing. I understand. And it’s because I understand that I’m telling you to keep working hard and prove yourself to them. You have it in you—I’ve known ever since we met. You smile. Your time will come, yeah?

And for the first time: you believed it. 

A nod. Thanks, Charles. Yours will too.

About a month later, you two started officially dating. It almost seemed too good to be true at times, but wherever he looked for you in the crowd, you knew it just had to be. 

But the start of your relationship was also the end of something else.

Interviews and articles? 

He nods. Right. None of that.

You follow his actions, nodding numbly as you blink. So, no more working together? Because you want me to have a fair shot?

Yes, he confirmed. I just don’t want you to be nominated—because it’s only a matter of time, I have a feeling—and feel as if they picked you simply because of your dating status. 

Who’s going to do all of that, then? 

There’s plenty of other reporters. Lissie? Will? Maybe even Natalie. He took a step closer, grabbing your hands gently. What I’m trying to say is that I want you to feel accomplished. That what you did was simply because of your work, and not having to do with your connections because trust me, that doesn’t feel good.

But I love working with you. You give his hand a squeeze, tilting your head and smiling sadly. You’re my favorite person to write about and talk to…

And he genuinely seemed to be pained by your words, wincing.

But you suck it up because you know he’s right. I’ll always be your favorite?

Only the best.

A hum. Alright then. You take a step back, extending your hand for a professional handshake. He smiles, taking it and giving it a good tug.

 It was nice working with you, Mr. Leclerc.

-

“I’ll never understand,” Lissie starts, pressing the elevator button for the twenty-fifth floor and chewing on a licorice. “Why you two ever create such a stupid rule like that?” A hard chew. “All I’m saying is that it could have definitely helped you out a whole lot. You probably would have won by now.”

You roll your eyes, but not without thinking how she might be right. You’ve definitely wondered about a world in which you two hadn’t taken this approach, and while it would have been nice, you also know that it would have felt a little less special knowing that being a nepo to Charles had something to do with it. Which is most likely what would have happened, let’s be completely honest here. 

“You came to this arrangement, what? Twenty years ago, maybe fourty? And it’s not to be rude, but you haven't been nominated, so was this really worth it if it hasn’t made much of a difference?”

“Okay,” you grunt, ripping the red candy away from her and throwing it into the nearby trash as soon as you step out of the elevator. She pouts, following along. “I think we get it, I fucked up, very funny.”

“No,” she hums. “I never said you did, I was simply thinking, that's all.” You scoff. “But whatever. I have a feeling this is it. You definitely have it in the bag. They’d be crazy not to add you for a fourth time!”

Spinning, you smile bitterly at the Brit girl. She gulps. “Thank you, Lis, your mild support is very much appreciated.”

You turn back around, walking faster.

“Sheesh, sorry,” she hisses, entering the familiar office with a lost expression.

Carly, your manager runs over, practically jumping onto you and hugging you tight. “Lis, close the door!” You groan at the loud sound against your ear, but she's none the wiser, already embracing you harder. “You did it!”

“I told you!” Lissie shoots smugly.

You freeze, heart racing. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not lying—”

“Why would she be lying?”

Letting go, Carly lets out a delirious laugh. “Everything—all of it—has finally paid off. You did it, you’re on the list!”

“Holy shit,” you whisper in disbelief, playing with your necklace as you pace the spacious office. Lissie and Carly both grin at each other from ear to ear, nodding enthusiastically. You come to a halt. “Are you making this up because I said I would kill myself if I didn’t make it this year because, for your information, I was totally kidding!”

“It’s not a joke,” the redhead squeals, jumping again. “I’m so proud of you!”

“I am too!” Lissie shrieks, running and kissing you face as you try your best to swat her away even though you’re laughing. “Even after what I said in the elevator, I knew this shit was the real deal this time! Didn’t I tell you? Carly, I told her.” She twirls you, making you grin harder.  “You won!”

“Okay, let's touch some grass, ladies,” Carly cuts in. “We can’t forget that this is just a nomination and that there’s still work that needs to be done in order to secure our best chances.”

“Right,” you respond, elegantly fixing yourself and nodding up and down. You freeze. “Wait, what work? I thought this was it?”

Carly shakes her head. “Oh honey, we’re just getting started.” A pause. “You have to write an article.”

“I am—confused. What do you mean by article?”

The Brit takes a seat in a nearby chair, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “It’s their one and only requirement. Show them why they should pick you.”

Carly nods, red hair bouncing. “Shouldn’t be too hard. You’re as talented as they come. Just do what you do, but…better!”

Color drains your face as you go back to pacing. “What do you mean better? This is all I got! There’s nothing left to show, oh God—”

“What are you talking about?” your manager yelps. “There’s always more!”

“Exactly,” Lissie hums, somehow munching on another piece of candy. “There’s always—that, yeah. More.”

Your eye twitches. “Okay, you already went through this and won. How did you do it?”

She pouts, tapping the licorice against her lips before clicking her fingers. “I wrote my piece on fashion and how it’s made its way into Formula One. Wasn’t even that hard. Well. Shouldn't be. Write what you know and it’ll come to ya, they say. Or maybe they don’t, but definitely still do that.”

Your shoulders drop, plopping down next to her and placing a pillow over your face. “Fuck. That’s genius.” It is, isn’t it? she mumbles, slowly chewing in deep thought. Screaming into the pillow, you feel the frustration you didn’t have a second ago finally erupt. “What am I going to do?”

“Sweetheart,” Carly starts, forearms pressed against her glass desk, and stern eyes trained onto you. “You have got to be one of the most raw writers I have ever worked with.” A beat. “Sorry, Lis.” 

“Screw you,” she snarls, focusing on her phone now. 

Your manager sighs, rubbing her temples. “And please take that as a compliment because it is. You don’t hold back, and you tell it how it is. That’s what makes you one of the best! And if it weren’t for you wanting this, I would have definitely sent an angry email on your behalf because you deserve this more than anyone.”

“Wow,” the Brit muttered, raising her dark brows. 

“Sorry,” she mumbles, cringing. “But you’ve won already, Lis, and we supported you, and now…” She faces you again with soft eyes. “We’re doing this for you. You got it, m’kay?”

“But—” your voice cuts off as you blink rapidly, losing focus with the thought of failing, imprinting itself into the forefront of your mind. “I don’t know what to write about, which is weird because I always have an idea, at least. That’s simply a bad sign, that much I know.”

“It’s only bad if you think it is,” Lissie says, clicking her phone off and smiling gently. “But in all honesty, I think it’s actually quite good. That means you know what's at stake, and you know you have to make this the best goddamn article in your entire life.” A beat. “Write what you know, I’m telling you.”

“What she said,” Carly squeaks cheerfully, eyes crinkling as she starts pouring champagne and handing them one by one. “But just so you know, we have to get this in by October thirteenth because they make their decision by the sixteenth.”

“But that’s Charles’ birthday week,” you wail, rubbing your eyes harshly. “Fucking hell—”

“He’ll understand,” Lissie cuts you off, clicking her glass against Carly’s who shrugs, sipping neatly. “All of us know he will.”

“Okay then,” you whisper slowly. You curl your hand tighter against the glass. “Cheers?”

“Cheers, mate!”

-

Entering his Monaco flat, Charles lets out a tired sigh, taking his shoes off and flinging his keys to the nearby coffee table. The loud thud makes him flinch before running over hurriedly. A large scratch lays across the rich wood as he panics, kneeling down to inspect it carefully.

“Are you serious, Charlie?” he hears over his shoulder, jumping to find you with a frown on your lips and hands on your hips. “That was a gift!”

“I’m sorry!” he squeaks. “From your Grandpa, I know, I’m sorry!”

You let out a breath, shrugging. “It’s fine. How was your day?”

He eyes you suspiciously once before getting closer to you and kissing you hello. “Eh. Decent. Yours?”

Plump lips twist before flattening back out. “Decent.”

He squints, noticing the way you play with your necklace. “You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not,” you answer quickly. Defensively.

His brows furrow deeper. “Blow me.”

“Blow you?”

“Yes. Right here, right now—blow me.” He demonstrates, letting out a breath as if taking a breathalyzer test. 

You let out a sore laugh, rolling your heels as you stumble back. What? Your laughing stops, though tears run down your face as you try to get your words out. “You mean breathe out, not blow you.” Your giggles pick up once again, making him blush deep red. “God, you need to learn a bit more proper english.”

He looks away, cringing at the sound of his voice replaying, and then turning with a stoic face. “Don’t change the subject.” A pause. “Breathe out.”

You freeze. “Why?”

“Don’t ask questions, just do it.” “I’m not going to do it.”

“Just do it,” he presses harder.

You glare. “No. I’m not.”

Taking one last glance, he leaps forward with zero warning and starts tickling you, making your squeal. Stop! “Breathe!” I am breathing, you twat! “Blow me—God damn it! Whatever! Blow! Breathe! Blow!” 

“Fine, fine, just stop!” you screech, giggles coming to an end as he nods and stares down at you, which by now, you’re laid down on the couch with him towering over. You blush, breathing out lightly, nearly nothing. He rolls his eyes. Blow me harder. “Blow me harder,” you mimic, copying his accent. 

He groans. “You get what I’m saying—”

“I don’t, though,” you joke, laughing harder. As soon as your eyes shut, he smiles down at you affectionately, but when they open again, he reverts his lips back into a straight line. Your lips wobble playfully. Letting out a big breath, he whiffs strongly. “Gross, Cha!”

“You smell like strawberry sorbet, relax.” A beat. “Open your mouth and stick your tongue out for me.”

“Okay, this is getting really kinky.”

He aims for a deadpan expression. 

Rolling your eyes, you do as you're told and he lets out a scream. “What the fuck!”

“It’s red!”

“No duh, Charles!”

“Strawberry sorbet. The last pint. You ate it all, didn’t you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“So that's a yes.”

You frown.

“And we always share, but when we don’t it’s because you’re going through something and you couldn’t help yourself.”

“Okay, Sherlock Holmes, we get it,” you grunt, pushing him off as you sit up. He does the same, staring at you, concerned. “By the way, does that upset you?”

“The ice cream? Nah.”

You nod, then yawn. “Why do you have to be so attentive?”

“Because I love you.”

You smile. “I made it onto the list.”

“The list?”

“The list.”

A wide grin dances across his pink lips as he jumps onto the coach, up and down, making you bounce and stare up with a soft look. “The list! Thee list. Holy crap, congratulations, honey!” Landing on the ground, he hugs you, digging his face into the crook of your neck and kissing it over and over. “You smell nice—congrats—is that citrus—wait, this smells really nice—”

“It is citrus,” you giggle as he separates from you. “And thanks. It means the most coming from you.”

Silence takes over for a second or two before his brows knit neatly. “What’s wrong?”

“No. Nothing.” They raise up higher. “I’m not gonna lie—I’m scared.”

Tugging you closer to his chest, he drags so you two are laying back down. You close your eyes at the feeling of his arms wrapping around you like some blanket. “About what? You totally got this.”

“Hmph. It’s just that, I, uh. I have to write an article on a topic of my choice, and—I. Don’t know? I have no clue what to write about.”

Listening attentively, he doesn’t interrupt as your words begin to pour out like a prayer. He doesn’t even interrupt when you say something along the lines of being “at best—mediocre”, even though he really wanted to. You scoff. “It’s a silly problem to have, I’m well aware, but…it’s the truth.”

The Monegasque picks your breathing patterns, mindlessly copying as you cuddle him. “You’ll figure it out.”

You swiftly look up, cheek pressed against his heart beat. “That’s it?”

“What else do you want me to say?”

What do you want him to say? Your lips open aimlessly, then close forcefully. 

He grabs a nearby blacket, covering you both and hugging you the same he’s seen you hug your teddy bear. “I think you need to have a little bit more faith. In yourself, that is. Because your mind…” Green eyes connect with yours as your breath comes to a strong halt. He tends to make your body react that way, quite often. He sends a simple grin. Dimples and all.

“It's the most beautiful thing on this earth.”

-

Abu Dhabi 2021.

It’s been talked about too much already.

Spain 2016.

You’re kidding, right?

Fine. Azerbaijan 2018—

You let out a muffled scream. “Pierre, no! I need something better.”

“Better than all that drama?” he dead pans, genuinely confused as to why his ideas are being shut down.

You exhale, hair flying outward. “I love it too, but I need something new. Unheard of.”

The Frenchman pauses, curling a brow. “I’ve gone blank.”

You bite down on your tongue, shrugging it off. “It’s okay. I should probably come up with my own topic, anyways.”

Getting up, you wave goodbye and make your way to the ice cream truck that’s been rented out for the weekend. Smartest investment, you think to yourself as you twirl your tongue around the lavender spoon. 

“This time I really do mean it—blow me.”

Squinting up at the sun—which so happens to be behind Charles like a halo—you chuckle, feeding him a spoonful. “Good, no?”

“Delicious,” he hums, going in for another. “Have you tried the funnel cakes?” They have funnel cakes? you squeal, eyes shining. He nods. “Want one?”

You deflate. “Later.”

Watching the crowd walk by, you two sit there, switching turns and enjoying each other's company. It’s amazing how no one comes up to Charles, either. Not that he would mind, but it’s definitely a nice surprise. Glancing over, he hands the spoon back to you. “Come up with something?”

“I have a few ideas, but nothing solid yet.”

Pistachio ice cream melts away faster. “I told Pierre to leave you alone, I hope he didn’t bother you too much.”

“He’s actually the reason why I have these ideas. Don’t let him know, though, I would never live it down.”

Watercolor eyes go wide. “Really? Pierre actually helped?”

“Weird, huh?”

“Without a doubt.”

“Don’t stress out too much, honey. You still have time.”

You purse your lips. “But the sooner I figure it, the sooner I can start and just focus, and do the proper research and try and—”

“You have time,” he reaffirms with a knowing look. You cock your head and he sends a sly grin. “Plenty.”

“Plenty,” you copy as he nods along. Extending his arm, he signals to the spoon. You shake your head. “You can have the rest.”

“You’re the gift that keeps on giving.”

-

Write what you know. Write. What. You. Know.

What the fuck does that even mean?

Biting down on your pen, you’re spaced out, staring at the picture frame. In it, Charles and Carlos smile, you can tell, behind their helmets. While the Monegasque’s eyes crinkle sweetly, the Spaniards are dilated and wide. Both nice, but nothing beats those green eyes. 

You can slowly feel your sanity slipping away, day by day. There’d be times where you thought you had it figured out, but then you’d bring it up and Lissie would smile and say—

“Yes! Stick to that one! Start it. Right now.”

It wouldn’t seem genuine because you know she just wanted you to get it done given it’s due in less than two weeks. And even though it was good, it wasn’t good enough. 

“I’m just going to brainstorm a few more ideas.”

She’d given up, mumbling beneath her breath and grabbing her keynotes and headed to her meeting. Well, technically it was your meeting too, but again. Time crunch.

Hence, why you’re admiring the picture and thinking harder than you were a minute ago. The door slides open then, the two Ferrari drivers back from their media duties. You rip your gaze away as soon as they make their way closer. “How does one fake their own disappearance?”

“Oi,” the brown eyed boy warns, toothy grin expanding. “Good question, though.”

“Oi, you,” your boyfriend warns back, glaring at his teammate. “At this point, I’m sure she’d go through with it.” He turns to you. “Honey, you’ve got to decide already, it can’t be that hard.”

“I know that!” you burst out, ears burning as you avoid their eyes. “But there’s just so much! I don’t want to jump the gun and make a mistake, is all.”

Carlos juts his lip, then rolls his jaw. “If only you took someone’s very good proposition.”

A scoff. “I wasn’t going to write about Papaya Rules, Chili.”

“It would’ve been so good, though!” A beat. “What about—”

“Nor multi-21.”

His expression drops, along with his shoulders, and strolls away, flipping you off. I hope you figure it out, then! A low chuckle makes its way as you exhale loudly. “C’mon, what’s the problem this time?”

You bite your lip, brows drawn in together as you gaze back at Charles. “I’m not entirely convinced.”

“Honey…”

“A-and I know I’m running out of time, but I just want it to be perfect!”

He smiles, throwing his arm on your shoulder. “And it will be, but you need a topic.”

“Yeah…” You raise a brow.  “What happened to having ‘plenty’ of time?”

The Monegasque wiggles his brows. “You can’t take up too much advantage.”

-

I’ve decided. 

That’s the lie you settle with because quite frankly, you’re done with the constant questions. If you were going to come up with the best matter to write about, then you need to have a clear head. Carly is over the moon, Lissie is ecstatic, and Charles is proud. 

Great! What’s it going to be about?

It’s a surprise. 

At first, they were all as curious as can be, but later when you insisted that it’d be better that way, they nodded, though the interest was still there. 

Now—with only a week and a half before your due date—you lay, plopped on your stomach, fingers teasing the keyboard as you watch Charles jump into his race suit. You sigh, sitting up. “I think I’m going to stay in here today.”

He fixes the zipper. “Yeah?”

You nod. “That way I can work and watch you.” You point to the T.V. hung up on his room wall. “Is that okay with you?”

“Whatever you need to do in order to focus, baby.” A wink. “It’s fine by me.”

They’re in lap sixty out of seventy-five, the last time you check, and your page remains as white as a ghost and as bare as a newborn baby. It’s both amusing and mind-boggling. Groaning, you hit your head with the back of your hand before running it down your face. Then, to make matters worse, your laptop dies.

Shit, you grit as you look around and spot Charles’ placed neatly on top of a nearby chair. Strolling over, you grab and open it, typing in his passcode and signing into your account. A few seconds later, the blank page resurfaces. Blinking slowly, you spot it. 

Notes. 

You take a look around, but really don’t know why since you’re the only one in his motorhome, and then click onto the App, furrowing your brows with concentration. 

Turns out, you really like to read because one after another, you skim through his journal entries without a second thought. Eagerly, might you add. Some things you know, others you don’t, but nevertheless, you’re caught off guard. How sensitive he is and how it portrays in every word. Not only are you amazed, but you’re completely engrossed. 

And it sparks something in you.

With a large grin, the brunette makes his way back to his room, trophy in hand and handshakes and pats on the back all around. Grazie mille, he beams as he makes his way closer, sending a final wave before opening his door. Finding you with his spare helmet over your head, he laughs. You giggle, opening the visor. “That’s one good looking winner!”

He laughs, placing the gold trophy down and enjoying you the way you struggle to take it off. You let out a loud gasp as soon as he assists you, tugging it off. “Shit.” Another gasp. “How do you wear that thing for two hours?” Fixing your hair, you pat it down as you send him a sheepish smile. “Give me a kiss!”

“No thanks. Too sweaty.”

Pouting, you pinch his ear tenderly before he gives in, pressing his lips against yours. “You were amazing out there, Charlie. You really were, I want you to know.”

Green eyes soften as he tries his best to savor this moment. “Only cause you say so.” You giggle, hugging his waist and he drapes his hands over your shoulders and rests his chin on top of your head. “How far along were you able to get?”

A hum. “Quite far, actually.”

He lets out a whistle, making your cheeks glow. “Looks like we’re both having a good day.”

“Looks like,” you swoon. “Looks like.”

Tilting your head back, you match with his eyes as he sends a dimpled smile. 

Write what you know, you think to yourself as he leans back down to kiss you. His lips greedily crash against your own as you let out a soft moan, playing with his hair, large hands making their way down to your ass. And you, my dear Charlie…

He groans, shuddering as soon as you grind back against his thigh. You smile, admiring his open mouth.

I know you very well.

-

You feel guilty when you start on your first page, but by the time you make it to your third, you’ve talked yourself out of it. You would explain. As soon as you’re done, before you turn it in, you would explain it all to him. Tell him that this is simply because you love him. How he’s your biggest inspiration, and how this wasn’t you using him, but rather you showing others how amazing he truly is.

He notices it right away—the determination. And he admires you for it because he hasn’t seen you like that ever since your writer’s block. So, he tries not to intrude in moments where you’re on a roll, and instead makes sure to have a bath ready for you. He joins you sometimes, too.

Cracking your fingers, you yawn, exhausted, and stretch like a cat. He chuckles, closing his book like a light thud. “Update?”

“Six pages.”

“Wow. You really got it going on.” You blush. “You deserve something sweet. What do you want?”

“But it’s so late, and you have to be up early tomorrow…”

He rolls his eyes, already grabbing your trench coat. “It’s a bit cold out right now.”

You smile.

It’s not that far of a walk, three miles. After buying you a hot chocolate—with extra whip—he takes your mitten covered hand and leads you out the small coffee shop. By now, not many people are out, so it makes for a calm stroll.

“Shhh—ah,” you hiss, tongue sticking out as your face twists with subtle pain. He laughs, eyes crinkling. Drink slowly, he says, voice laced with humor. “The cool air helps,” you murmur, blowing on the hot drink. “Are you sure you don’t want anything?”

He shakes his head. “I just wanted you to unwind.”

“You’re so thoughtful,” you coo, enjoying the way his ears turn pink. You giggle. “Why do I feel like you’re thinking about something, though?”

“I am. You.” A gust of wind dances. “Always.”

You purse your lips, taking a slow sip, lipstick painting the white lid. “I’m serious, Cha. You’ve been quiet ever since you got off that phone call two hours ago.” Neat brows knit together with concern. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” he answers, but it’s too quick for it to be the truth.

Giving his large hand a squeeze, you send a knowing look. His breath hitches. “You can talk to me—”

“Are you almost done with your article?” he asks, obviously changing the topic as he stares up ahead, and if not, down at his shoes. Pink nose twitches. “I miss you, and call me greedy, but I was hoping you’d be done before my birthday, at least, that way we could…I don’t know—” He shrugs. “You’ve just been really busy—which I get why, and I understand—but I miss y-you.”

Wincing, you chew your bottom lip a couple times before letting go. “Almost, but.” His shoulders drop, making your stomach twist. You panic. “I feel like I’m missing something. Like the final bang in order for it to be…” A beat. “I’ll be done before your birthday, you can count on that.”

Round eyes finally flicker up as he nods, a more relaxed look evident. “This makes me sound so needy,” he says. “Which I guess I am, bu—”

“Don’t apologize,” you cut him off with a reassuring smile. “But please, tell me what’s going on…”

The Monegasque stiffens. Despite walking, you can tell. You can feel it. Also, it doesn’t take a genius to notice. “They’re not renewing Carlos’ contract for next year.”

You stop walking, making him stop too. He’s still holding onto you, rubbing small circles against cashmere. “W-why?”

“Guess.”

Your mind races. The rumors have definitely been swirling—everyone’s heard—but really? “They’re actually doing it?”

He nods.

“Lewis,” you whisper like it the first time you pronounce his name. “This is, uh…wow. I mean, wow.” 

“Yup,” he says, popping the p. “Wow, for sure.” Letting go, he takes a small step back, but still faces you with an uneasy look. “They brought it up as a possibility, but I don’t know why I never thought they’d be capable of…” He grimaces. “I can’t even begin to imagine how Carlos must be feeling.”

“Weren’t they just praising him last time during your guys’ team meeting?” You curl the cup towards your chest. “That’s fucked up.” Charles sighs, pinching the tip of his nose swiftly. Your eyes fill up with concern. “What about you?”

“I got an extension.”

You let out a breath of relief, nodding. “O-okay, okay. That’s good, Charlie, that’s really good.” When he keeps quiet, you pause all movement and blink feverishly. “Why are you upset, then?”

“I’m not,” he answers. “Only worried.” Listening closely, you silently wait for him to continue. He sighs, rubbing his eyes, suddenly tired. “It’s just that…he. He’s Lewis,” he finishes like that’s enough explanation.

You curl a brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

A weak chuckle. “It means he’s better, and the team is going to favor him over me.” A timid shrug. “I get it, though. If anyone can bring a Championship home for the team, it’s going to be him.”

“It’s going to be you.”

“No.” The light in his eyes gave out, slowly and painfully so. “It’s not.”

Berry lips open, then close lamely, analyzing him like the world's biggest mystery. Sternly, you narrow your eyes down like knives. “World Champion?”

He flinches.

You click your tongue. “Do you realize how crazy you sound?”

“What?” he says, puzzled.

You nod. “Why are you giving up so easily, huh?”

Sharp jaw clenches. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s because he’s a former World Champion, and I’m not.” He chuckles sourly. “It’s really not that difficult to figure out. I mean, I’ve been working for it for so long now, and look at me! I’m nowhere close to being there!”

Silence. Chest heaves. You never let go of your gaze, and he has no other choice than to do the same. He’s not mad at you—not mad at anyone, really—but he’s frustrated. And yeah. Maybe he is giving up the fight, but anyone else who was in his position would too. No one wants to be the laughing stock, no one wants to be compared. 

“Listen to me Charles Leclerc, and listen to me closely because I’m only going to say this once.”

He waits.

“If it’s something you want, then it’s most likely something you can have.”

Pink lips turn upward as he tilts his head in the slightest of tilts.

Holding his face between your delicate hands, you raise your brows, shivering at the icy air. He can feel your hand vibrate against his skin as he grabs them, brings them up to his mouth, and blows hot air onto them. “I believe in you. Everybody does. Do you believe in that?”

And it takes a moment for him to answer. It takes a moment for it to register. He nods. Sure of himself.

“Only because you do.”

-

“A USB?” He frowns. “I thought you hated those?”

“I do,” you say, combing through your hair, staring at him through the reflection of the mirror. “But I feel like this makes it real. Physically turning it in, I mean. It’s dumb, but…” You check the time, shrieking and grabbing your things. “Carly is going to kill me! Okay, I’ll be back in an hour, and then we can go with your family for dinner, or I’ll meet you there, yeah?” You huff. “Red or white wine?”

“Sparkling water,” he ponders. “Maman is trying to get to ‘quit.’ Which is probably not the right way to put it because it’s not like Lorenzo, Arthur, and I are alcoholics.”

“Oh. Alright then, I’ll just get that instead.” Tippy toeing, you peck his cheek briskly, sweet perfume hitting him. “I love you.”

Adoration fills his watercolor eyes. “I love you, too.”

Who knew?

Who knew that’d be the last time you’d hear those words coming from him?

-

Entering the familiar office, you wheeze, crouching down to catch your breath before sending over a coy smile. Carly laughs, clearly amused, before signaling to the chair that sits right in front of her. “We could have done this any other day as long as it was before the deadline, you know?”

“No,” you pant, heart beat barely switching back to its regular pace. Well. Sort of. “I need to get this out of the way, I promised Charles I’d be free before his birthday. He said it was his one and only wish, could you believe that, he’s so cute, isn’t he?” She blinks. Pink dusts your cheekbones. “Anyways, here it is.”

Looking down at your extended hand, she almost lets out a snicker. “I get I’m older than you, but really? You emailing it to me would have been just as effective.”

“I didn’t want to risk it going straight into your spam folder.” That, and I don’t want to see when you actually read it because I have a funny feeling you’re going to disapprove, which is okay, fair. “Here.”

“Very well, then,” she mumbles, retrieving it. “Why don’t we proofread it together one more time before send—”

Horrified at the innocent suggestion, you leap up from your chair, pushing back. “There’s no need, I checked it about a thousand times.” She raises a sharp brow at your outburst, the defensiveness in it. You laugh nervously. “And I should get going, anyways. Pascale is cooking Cha an early birthday dinner, can’t be late.”

Placing her forearms against the table, she nods slowly, but still unsure. “I won’t hold you back any longer, then. Tell him I said happy birthday.”

Tight lips form a forced smile, uneven breaths expanding. “Of course.”

You’re expected in an hour, so when you should be up forty-five minutes early, Pascale is pleased, but a bit surprised. Hugging you hello, she opens the door wider, letting you in. “They’re out in the back. Dinner should be ready in a bit.”

“No worries. Do you need any assistance?”

She shakes her head, thin blond hair swaying. “I’ve got it all under control, chérie.”

Nodding, you put your things down and start making your way towards the sound, beers clinking. You let out a snicker. “And here you are claiming not to be an alcoholic,” you joke. Flustered, Charles turns to face your soft voice. 

“It’s my first,” he squeaks.

“Third,” both Lorenzo and Arthur shoot, greeting you with a gentle nod. 

“It barely even has any alcohol,” your boyfriend tries defending, but the crack in his voice makes everyone burst out with laughter. Blood rushes to his cheeks. “Weren’t you supposed to be with Carly?”

“I was, but we got done pretty quickly.”

“What’d she think?” he asks, tugging you onto his lap. You giggle, meanwhile Arthur gags and Lorenzo blinks unbothered. “Bet she loved it.”

“I wouldn’t know. I left before she read it.”

He cocks his head. “Seriously?”

You nod. “You said you wanted my full attention.”

“I didn’t say it like that—”

“Well, now you have it.” You kiss his nose gingerly. “Happy early birthday, Charlie.”

The Monegasque smiles deeply. “Thank you.”

“Arthur! Lorenzo! Come help and set the table!”

Arthur groans. “Why just us? What about Charles?”

Poking her head out the window, Pascale aims a stern look, making him dash up. You laugh, ideally going to stand up, but gets tugged back down onto his thigh. You roll your eyes. “I should help, too. But you stay here and relax.”

“I will, but only if you stay with me.”

“Pascale needs my help—”

“Right, but she has both of them already.” He gives your hair a gentle tug. “Stay.”

Sighing, you nod, resting your head on his shoulder as he holds you. From here, you can see the breathtaking view of Monaco’s sunset. The ocean, the trees. Filled with satisfaction in life, you kiss the side of his neck, making him squirm slightly. “Carly says happy birthday. Early. Early birthday.”

A hum. “Make sure to tell her that I said thank you, the next time you see her.”

The sound of waves crashing sings softly. He traces shapes down your leg. “When will I be able to read it?”

You’re sure you stop breathing. “S-soon. After Carly gives me the green light, at least.”

A beat. “I’m excited.”

Your stomach churns. “You are?”

“Mhm. Very. Didn’t you know I was your biggest fan?”

Fixing yourself to look at him, you open your lips, feeling how dry they’ve become. “Charles—”

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

A sore laugh. “They’re calling you.”

You reach towards your back pocket, pulling it out. Carly Freeman. Clicking it off, you shake your head. “It’s nothing.”

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

He wiggles his brows. “Doesn’t seem like it’s nothing. Answer her, it’s fine.”

“She’s going to have to wait until tomorrow,” you announce, standing up and dusting your hands off. “I’m here with you, and she's going to have to wait. Whatever it is, it can’t be more important than this.”

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. 

He sends a worried look. “Are you sure? What if it has something to do with your article? You should pick up—”

“I said I’m here with you,” you affirm. “Tomorrow. She’ll be fine.”

“Okay…” Standing to his full height, he sends a gesture towards the house. “Let's go?”

His hand reaches out, waiting for you. You smile, taking it. “Let’s go.”

-

Your phone keeps buzzing and it doesn’t let him sleep.

That, and Carly is a terrible liar.

Shifting in the bed as quietly as possible, Charles reaches for your phone, trying his best not to wake you. “Hello?” he croaks. The line stays quiet, static rolling. “I know it's you, Carly.”

“Charles! How’s my favorite driver?” 

You twist, unwrapping your leg that was draped over him. He freezes, soothing you a bit before you settle down. Climbing off the bed, he walks out, gently closing the door and heading towards the living room. “I know your favorite is Fernando, what’s up?”

She laughs nervously, cursing underneath her breath. “Is my little journalist with you?”

“She is.”

“Great! May I speak with her very quick—”

“But she’s asleep.” She groans. “Why? Is something wrong?”

“Well…”

Sitting down on the couch, he leans back, placing his feet onto the coffee table. Normally, he wouldn’t, but you weren’t here right now, and lucky for him, he wasn’t wearing any shoes. He clicks his tongue. “Does this have something to do with your guys’ meeting today?”

“Yes. And no.” More static. “Do you mind waking her up for me?”

“Um…well I do. Sorry, Carly, but she needs to get some rest, she’s been working non-stop, and—”

“No, no, I get it!” she squeals. “I totally understand. Can you let her know that I need to talk to her as soon as possible? Like—urgent. Please and thank you and have a good night!”

“Wait,” he says, furrowing his brows and pushing the phone closer to his ear. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing to worry about. Too much,” she adds. “It’s just that I need a bit of clarification, that’s all.”

“Clarification?”

“Yup. On a tiny mistake of hers. But we can fix it together, she still has time, and if she hurries then we can still meet the dea—”

“She doesn’t make mistakes, though. Ever.”

A hiss. “It’s a tiny one, Charles—”

“Okay, tell me and I’ll tell her.”

“What? I can’t. I need to speak directly with her first.”

“Carly…”

“What now?” she grits. 

“What’s the issue?” he presses harder. “I’ll let her know right now.”

The line goes quiet. For a moment, he begins to wonder if she’s hung up already, but when she clears her throat, he listens carefully, but can’t decipher her mumbles.

“She gave me the wrong USB.” That’s it? She groans. “Listen to me Charles—the USB she brought to be today only has her title written on it along with a few notes about what it’s supposed to be about. It’s the wrong one and I need the other one now.”

“Okay,” he mutters slowly, nodding. “I’m sure she’ll bring it to you once I let her know, but that’s going to have to be until tomorrow.”

She gasps. “You said you’d let her know right now!”

He winces. “I know I did, but it’s late! Trust me, though. I’ll tell her you called and I’ll even drive her myself tomorrow to drop it off. It must be around here somewhere right…” And it sure is. Sitting nicely on the coffee table, inches away from his feet. He sits up straight away, picking it up as if it were some sort of new discovery. Which in a way, it was. “Carly, why is this so important to you?”

“She’s my favorite client,” she answers without missing a beat. “I only want what’s best for her, and right now we need to fix this little mishap and get this article in as soon as possible.” A beat. “Also, maybe don’t mention the first part to Lissie, she’d totally kill me.”

Analyzing the black USB, he remains stoic, blinking only because he needs to. “Goodnight, Carly…”

“Yeah. I, um—goodnight, Charles.”

Once he hangs up, he’s quick on his feet, retrieving his laptop from the counter and sticking the drive in without a second to process what he’s doing. He shouldn’t. Probably. Definitely not. But the interest Carly clearly has was enough to poke his mind and for him to start wondering what on earth is so significant? 

And it’s so obvious now why.

Charles Lecelrc: The Man Behind the Helmet

His eyes skim fast, narrowing sharply.

Like any other human being, he struggles with depression, though fails to admit. Many sleepless nights, many fights, many canceled therapy appointments, I begin to question: does every praise his fans give him make him think he’s above all these things? The truth hurts, but it's only because it's real. And Charles Lecelrc, you are nowhere close to being as perfect as everyone makes you out to be.

His heart stops, re-reading the last sentence. He wishes for it to say anything but that, but it never changes, and it only mocks him like a school bully. 

Many assume that the death of his late-father, Hervé, and his late-godfather, Jules Bianchi, have made him stronger in a sense. That it has fed the drive in him to succeed. To be the best of the best, but what if that wasn’t true at all? Would any of you be surprised? Probably, but again, no one truly knows him the way I do. So, what feeds his determination? 

The thought of failing the same way they did. 

Anger bubbles up inside of him, grinding his molar until they crunch loudly against his temples. 

But who can blame him for having that fear inherited down onto him? Tabloids also have a part in this, and so do unwanted changes. One way or another, we can relate with the latter, but never in the way he does. Reading and hearing rumors takes a toll on Charles, that much is true, but what can we expect when his next new teammate is a seven-time World Champion. 

I guess the only question that stands in not only our minds, but also his… 

Is he strong enough to come head to head with someone as talented as Lewis Hamil—

“Wake up.”

Groggily, you rub your eyes. “Charlie, it’s dark out, come on. Come back to bed.”

“Stop calling me that, and get up.” In a single movement, he rips the blanket away and yanks you from your wrist, forcing you to sit. You gasp, his change of heart sobering you up from your sleepy daze. 

“What’s wrong with you?”

He laughs. “Me? What’s wrong with me? Are you serious right now or are you stupid?”

You flinch, taken aback. “Don’t talk to me like that, what did I do?”

“I won’t waste my breath explaining.” He drops his laptop on the bed, making you freeze as soon as you spot the familiar USB. “I'll let you re-read it.” 

“Where did you get this from?”

“Really? That’s what’s important to you?” He rolls his jaw, rubbing it until his skin turns a light shade of red. “If you don’t want me finding it, then next time don’t leave it out.”

Your lips go dry, crawling to the edge of the bed, but as soon as you’re about to reach out for him, he grimaces, shaking his head and taking three steps back. “Charlie—”

“No,” he hisses, glaring at you with utter hatred. The sight alone makes your eyes well up. “You don’t get to call me that. You don’t get to call me that ever again.” A cry rings through the air as you cover your hands over your face. “A-am I supposed to be impressed by what I read or what?”

“It’s no—”

“Did I do something to upset you or w-why were you talking about me like that?” he questions, genuine confusion taking over as he furrows his brows until they cause his eyes to pinch up too. 

Sniffling, you get up quickly, shaking your head adamantly until you get dizzy. “It wasn’t supposed to come off across that way! Are you kidding me?” Grabbing your heart, you soften your eyes. “I’m your biggest supporter.”

“Yeah? Well, that,” he snarls, pointing at the open screen like it's the most disturbing thing. “That doesn’t make sense with what you’re saying…” A beat. “Why would you do this to me?”

“Do what, though?” you whimper. “Everything I wrote about you is based on what you told me!”

“Exactly!” he shouts back, making the distance between you smaller, making you shrink. “I told you! Just you! I never once asked you to air out my business, and quite frankly, I thought that was common sense.” He lets out a dry chuckle. “You called me crazy and troublesome among other things. Are you my girlfriend or wolves in sheep's clothing? I’m trying to understand your logic here.”

You push your hair back, breathing hard. “You can’t just say that, there’s context behind that, come on…”

“Oh. Okay. My bad. I’m crazy because I talk to my father’s tombstone and Jules’. It's troublesome because I used to do cocaine in order to de-stress. I’m in over my head because I actually think I stand a chance against Lewis—a chance you convinced me I had!”

“That’s not what I meant!” you squeak. “You’re taking it all wrong, Charles, I would never say that about you!”

“But you did,” he states firmly. “And you know? If I’m so unready to face a friendly competition against my future teammate, then maybe I’m unready to face a lot of other things, too.” You freeze, dreading his next words as you plead him silently not to say them. “Maybe I’m not as ready to settle down with you as much as I thought I was…”

That does it. That seems to cut the little oxygen you had, off. Stumbling back, you feel the tears start to form again. “You don’t mean that…” You smile weakly. “You’re just a tiny bit upset right now, okay, fine. That’s fine. But you don’t mean any of that.”

Glaring until it hurts, he maintains eye contact. “Don’t tell me what I’m feeling, you don’t get to do that!”

You flinch. “I’m sorry.” A droplet slides down. “I’m sorry, okay?” More follows. “For all of it. For all of this. If I could take it all back, I would, you have to believe me, Charles, you know I would.”

His gaze lingers for a while longer, taking in your rosy nose. Your swollen eyes. Your wet cheeks. Everything that's supposed to make him feel better, but it doesn’t. “I really did trust you…” You breath hitches. “And I really did want you to win…” Pause. “And I still do.”

Strolling over, he disconnects the USB, making the screen go completely black, and hands it to you. Blinking down, you shake your head, too embarrassed to even look at it. “I don’t want it.”

“Yeah, well I don’t want it either…” Forcing your palm open, he places it down, instantly making your skin burn. “Journalist of the Year.”

You let out a wet sob, shoulders shaking. You don’t know exactly what you’re feeling, but what you do know is that this doesn’t feel good and that your heart breaks with every passing second.

Never in a million years did you think you would experience any of this, especially with Charles. The Monegasque cocks his head, curls following. “I’m glad you’re about to get everything you’ve ever wanted, I really am.” He chuckles softly, eyeing you intently. “I just can’t help but wonder what that must feel like.”

“I was going to tell you,” you whisper meekly. “And you were supposed to understand where I was coming from.”

And if any anger was gone, well fuck that, it all came right back.

“Understand where you were coming from?” he spits out, shocked by your choice of words. “You really thought I would understand? I planned my entire future around you, and this is how you repay me? You went behind my back to write an article I didn’t even know about! We made a choice years ago!”

“No, you did!” you retort, despair rising hard and fast. “You came up with that decision all by yourself, Charles, I never agreed!” You look down. “Not entirely.”

“Huh,” he scoffs, squinting his eyes. “I was simply looking out for the girl that I love given that the internet is a scary place and she probably wouldn’t have been able to handle it, for God sakes, I guess this is my fault now, isn’t it?”

“I would have been able to handle it, but you never gave me the chance!”

“Yeah, because reporting on a driver and driver who's your boyfriend are two completely different things that you can’t seem to comprehend!”

Trembling, you blink carefully, gulping. “I would have done just fine.”

“You think so?” he challenges, a sour smile forming. You nod. “Okay. Sure. Why not?” Closing the final distance between you two, your breath gets stuck as he sends a dirty glare, one that's meant to sting. “You’re not talented. You only have your position because of your dating status, when in reality, your work is utter shit. Everything is handed to you.”

There’s a mix of a whimper and a plea that comes out of you as you screw your eyes shut. “You’re being mean, Charles…”

He laughs, clapping his hands once with amusement. “That’s what the internet is! Maybe I was right, then—you can’t handle it.”

“I could…” you murmur, but it's no use. 

The brunette catches himself wanting to comfort you. To apologize for everything. But then he figures—why? It’s not like he truly did something wrong. 

“You’re the greatest disappointment of my life.”

Something ended the moment those words left his mouth—you both knew it. Sobbing hard, your shoulders vibrate violently as you seemingly gasp for air. He looks away. 

“You know, our life could have been so good. So fucking good. But you went and ruined it.” Green eyes flicker back. “Why would you do this to us?”

“I never meant to hurt you,” you declare with wet lashes. 

“You did a bit more than that,” he replies, wincing, blinking rapidly. He smiles. “If you wanted to write your article on me, you should’ve asked me. You should have talked to me. But no. And the thing is, I would have let you! God. I would have let you write whatever you wanted—but not like this. You stole an interview from me with no right, honey…”

Quickly, you flicker your gaze up at him, hoping to see any trace of  love in that one word, but you’re not surprised when you don’t find any, deflating furthermore. He shrugs. Like what you did to him was no big deal. 

“You took it from me. But I would have given it to you.”

-

“Are you sure you want to do this? You can always change your mind, babe, it’s totally fine!”

“No.” You fix your hair, posture straight. You smile. “I need to.”

Lissie shares a slow nod, nibbling on her bottom lip before handing you her keynotes. “Alright. Good luck.”

The idea first sparked when the Brit girl mentioned how she was the only one granted permission to interview Charles at this year's FIA prize giving ceremony. You had debated back and forth with what seemed like forever, both Carly and Lissie trying to talk you out of it, but you pleaded until they reluctantly agreed. 

You haven’t seen him ever since that day.

It’s insane to think about, sometimes. You knew each other for two years, dated for three, and haven’t crossed paths for another two. And now, you’re here. He’d been upfront that day, didn’t even flinch with his one and only birthday wish, meanwhile you felt the last stab hurt more than anything.

I wish to never see you again. 

Not long after, he grabbed his things and left. But not before turning around, sending you one last glance, dull, empty, and nothing like him anymore. You still recall.

Turn it in, he said, smiling warmly despite his better judgment. Despite not meaning it. Don’t let this all be for nothing.

Shaking your hands, you grin, fixing your silk dress. The Brit girl stares worriedly, but as soon as you wink, she hides it. Not that well, but enough. “He’s going to be so mad at me,” she jokes, but it’s probably true. He has a soft spot for her, and he only gave permission to her. No one else. 

You wince, grabbing her hands delicately. “I really appreciate this, Lissie. More than you’ll ever know.”

Waving goodbye, you make your way to the private conference hall. It’s daunting, actually, the sight of the large table where he’ll be sitting and the small chair where you will. Quite the narrative. His picture is hung in almost every corner, from the beginning of his career to now. The latest one makes you smile as he lifts the trophy high up with a beaming grin, dimples poking out and eyes crinkled just the way you remember. 

You thought about apologizing again. Better this time. Once things simmered down. You really wanted to, but as soon as Carly informed you that the article would need to be published in order for fans to engage with your content and for them to decide on a winner, you knew the gist of him accepting your apology was most likely never going to happen. 

And you contemplated not posting it. Carly did too. Lissie did too. No one thought it was a good idea, but you still did it. Like he said—you couldn’t let all that be for nothing.

The hate came immediately, you expected nothing less. In their minds, you were a loyal girlfriend, but after reading your work, the comments came rolling in. You were honestly quite grateful because you know you deserved every last bit of it. 

But somehow—somehow—you won Journalist of the Year. 

You were shocked to say the least—bewildered. And you could see it in Lissie and Carly’s eyes too. So, while accepting the award with a forced smile, it hit you like a truck.

Did you truly earn this or was it all thanks to him?

Either way, does it matter anymore?

The door gently opens as he steps in, a loopy smile stretched onto his lips before coming to a complete stop. With your heart in your throat, you cough awkwardly, standing up and waving. You cringe, putting your hand down as soon as he furrows his brows, looking around. 

“S-she’s not here,” you say, voice cracking. You blush. “You’re looking for Lissie, right?” Utter silence. He blinks, unresponsive and as stiff as a tree. You lick your lips. “I-I-I can leave if you want.” But you really hope he doesn’t want you to.

The Monegasque’s features strike with something familiar—something you knew not long ago. Then…

He smiles at you. 

“It’s alright.” Carefully, he makes his way closer, scooting his chair right next to yours as you blink, sitting back down and staring with your plump lips slightly open. He cocks his head. “Y-you look the same.”

You giggle. “Is that supposed to be a good thing?” When he fails to answer, you bite down on your lip hesitantly. “You haven’t changed much, either.” 

He clears his throat, averting his gaze. “I don’t mean to sound rude or anything, but why are you here and where is Lissie?”

You flinch. Okay. This was expected. You practiced hours for this very moment. “Don’t be mad at her, okay, I asked her to let me do this. I wanted to…see you, Charles.” The sound of his name leaving your lips makes his heart stop because it's been so long since he’s heard it. Too long. A subtle blush. “I’m here to apologize.”

“Ah,” he winces, scrunching his nose. “Don’t. We’re cool.”

“Are we, though?”

He stiffens. 

Exhaling, you place your things down, pursing your lips. He watches the way your knee bounces up and down. How you play with your ring before covering it neatly with the opposite hand. That catches him completely off guard as he blinks rapidly, thinking he must be mistaken. 

“I know I don’t deserve any of this,” you say nervously. “By all means, I should have been kicked out five minutes ago, but you…” Round eyes soften, lashes batting slowly. “You’ve always been a kind and generous human being, Charles.”

“Stop,” he whispers. You frown. “Saying my name, I mean. You can talk—we can talk, but please, just. Don’t say it.”

“O-okay,” you mumble, stomach churning. “I won’t.”

He lets out a tight smile, tilting his head. Years ago, his hair was a tad bit longer, fluffier even. Now, it’s still the same, but somehow more mature. His eyes are still young and naive, but with a hint of wisdom. He usually would wear mismatching suits, but now it matches. A lot of him has changed, and you weren’t there to witness it.

“Congrats, by the way,” you add happily. “World Champion, eh?”

Pink spreads across his cheeks, slowly but surely. “Thanks. I was close to losing my mind.”

You laugh. “Seven years later, but it’s well deserved. I’m so proud of you.”

And for a moment, he goes completely numb. He’s heard plenty of kudos ever since winning his first title—and they were nice, they made him feel nice—but this. You? It’s the first time it makes him feel accomplished. And that feels more than nice.

Playing with his bracelet, he nods sheepishly. “How have you—how, um…God. I, um, how have you been?”

“Oh.” You let out a genuine smile. Soft. Angelic. And everything he wishes to find in any other girl that isn’t you. It’s not something he should notice. “I’ve been well.” You raise your hand. “Engaged.”

“You sure are,” he mumbles, finally acknowledging the silver band before flashing an easy smile of his own. And maybe it was real, or maybe it wasn’t, but he wasn’t as upset as he thought he’d be. Just a tiny bit bothered, is all. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

You lick your lips awkwardly. “You remember Carly’s son?”

A tide hits him as he internally screams. “Grayson, right?”

You nod. “She, uh, set us up a while ago and we hit it off.” You wince. “I’m sorry, is that weird?”

“No. Of course not,” he replies, shrugging. “You’re allowed to build your life with whomever you want. What happened between us was…” He chuckles. “So long ago. I’m happy for you both, I really am.”

And he means it this time.

Admiring the oval-shaped ring, you swoon as if you’re thinking of the exact moment he proposed to you, and that’s the prettiest sight Charles thinks he might ever see. Even if it didn’t end up being him. Once you look back up, he looks away, feigning interest in anything else stupidly.

“Yourself?”

“Myself?”

A playful eye roll. “Are you seeing anyone?”

A retch. “Ha ha, no! No, that’s not—that’s not for me.” You frown. He winces. “Please don’t be offended, but after you, I sort of lost interest in meeting other people. Pierre calls it trauma, I call it precaution.” A sore laugh. “B-but maybe one day. Never say never, am I right?”

The lights reflect directly towards you, so that lets him see the rosy blotches beginning to hug your cheekbones as your lips wobble. He panics. “N-no! Fuck. I didn’t mean to—”

“I ruined your life,” you wail, throwing your hands over your face. “Oh my God, I wrecked it!”

“You didn’t!” he tries. “I’ve gone on a couple of dates, here and there!”

You’re tiny cries take a quick pause. Sniffling, you shoot him a look, shiny eyes beaming back at him. “You have?”

“Yeah,” he whispers, slowly relaxing against his seat. “Sort of. Kind of.” A horrified expression maps out against your face. He grimaces. “I-It’s just not my thing!”

“I’m sorry, Ch—” You pause, rethinking your words. “I’m sorry.”

The Monegasque shrugs, hoping that’d be enough for you to drop the topic. “It’s okay, really. It’s a decision I made long ago, and I’d like to keep it like that for a while, at least.” You bite down on your bottom lip, nodding halfheartedly. “But please, um, tell me, how far along are you? Heard from Lissie that it’s a boy.”

You let out a wet giggle, wiping your tears away to the best of your ability. “Nineteen weeks. I’m in my second trimester.” Gingerly, you rub your tiny belly before your eyes light up. “Give me your hand!”

“What?”

Leaning in, you grab his large hand and place it down on your stomach, looking up at him to watch his reaction. At first, he’s weirded out, you can tell. He makes a silly face he probably doesn’t realize he’s making, but seconds later his features soften. His green eyes go round, no tension behind them. His brows lay flat, then knit together in amazement. He laughs, rubbing his thumb gently.

“Does it hurt?” he whispers. “When he kicks?”

You hum. “Sometimes it can. But I suppose it’s more discomfort than anything.” You wiggle your eyebrows. “Cool?”

He nods rapidly. “Super cool.”

Pulling away, he can feel his adrenaline as high as a kite, and as fast as his car. He feels different, he notes, as if something has finally shifted inside of him. With this, he takes time to admire you in a way he hasn’t been able to ever since.

Your hair is cut into layers now, glossy and shorter than he remembers. Your lips, round, plump and berry tinted. Your eyes, doe, innocent, and pure in a way he can’t seem to wrap his head around. Smile, even, wobbly, and everything in between.

Your gaze flickers. “Question…”

“Answer,” he replies, studying your body language. 

It’s harder than you had initially thought it would be, asking him what you’d been wondering for these past two years. Was it all that bad? The answer might be yes. Yes, it was. To him, perhaps. But it tugs your tongue, and it burns a bit, but you push through, focusing on him and his watercolor eyes.

“Do you—”

But he still knows you. He can still read you. Before you, it’s always him who understands your train of thought. 

He shakes his head, dimples imprinting like a finger in sand. “No regrets.” 

A peach seed forms as you let out a sheepish laugh. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in life,” you admit, cringing slightly. “Just yesterday, I bought the wrong plane ticket. Got stuck in the airport for three extra hours.” He chuckles. “Totally unnecessary.”

“It happens,” he comforts you, clicking his tongue. 

“I guess so,” you say, sighing. “But betraying someone you love? Yeah. That’s got to be the worst mistake of my life.”

He flinches, an old wound suddenly opening. “Hey, you—”

You raise your hand, pleading with him. “Let me just…” So, he forces himself to sit there quietly, to not intrude no matter how much he really wants to. It’s fine, he wants to say, I’m fine now, we’re fine now, seriously.

A wince. “Do you know how guilty I feel whenever Grayson polishes my award?” A scoff. “He means no harm with his actions, but it makes me feel like shit everytime I walk past it. I’ve begged him to put it away somewhere in the attic, but he’s as proud as can be. Say’s an accomplishment like that deserves to be shown off. That it’s proof of all my hard work.” You smile. “Much like you and your trophy.”

You exhale. “You were right, though.” A hum. “I don’t deserve it.”

“I never said that.”

“Sure,” you give in quietly. “But you did say that if I won, I’d always wonder if I was truly respected for my work or if I was respected because of you.”

He bites his tongue. 

You shrug lamely. “And that’s just something I’m going to have to live with for the rest of my life…” Steadily, you ease your eyes back towards him as you find him already staring at you, listening close and curious. “And I want you to know that I’m fine with that.” A beat. “What I’m not fine with is you being mad at me for the rest of your life.”

Charles opens his mouth, feeling his tongue as dry as the desert and his throat as dusty as the highest mountain. “I’m not mad at you…anymore.” He sits up straighter. “I said a lot of things to you that night that I shouldn’t have said, but you have to understand that you hurt me a thousand times worse.” 

Tears well up your eyes as you nod shamefully. He continues despite feeling the need to reach out for you. “I just wanted you to feel what I was feeling, even if that meant—well. You know. And, um…I tried to forget all of that, but I, too, felt guilty, so—I’m glad you’re here. That way I can say…I’m sorry.”

“No!” you wail, raising your arms up. “No, I’m sorry! I broke your trust, and I was a God awful girlfriend.”

“You did,” he chuckles before scrunching his nose in deep thought. “But you were also the best I’ll ever have.”

A wet sob escapes.

“I forgive you.”

“S-shit,” you let out. “You don’t know how g-good it feels to finally hear you say that.”

A gentle smile. “You?”

You giggle, standing up. “I have nothing to forgive you for, but yeah. Okay. I forgive you, as well.” You open your arms for a hug. He blinks. “It’ll make me feel better.”

Tsk. “You used to do this all the time wherever we fought,” he says, a hint of sadness wavering in his eyes before disappearing into thin air. Extending to his full height, he towers over you before going in to close the distance. He halts, coughing awkwardly.

You snicker, eyes crinkling with amusement. “Right. You're hugging two of us now.”

A wave of jealousy pangs his chest for a second. You’ve moved on, and he’s stuck in the year you were still in his life. Still his. He envies Grayson in every sense there exists, but he swallows down that pill because he’d always been a nice bloke the very few times he interacted with him. He needs to move on, too. 

Even if it takes him his whole life to figure out how. 

“The more the merrier.”

Your face has gone completely numb by now from how hard you're grinning from ear to ear. Wrapping your arms around his waist as he goes over your shoulders, you sigh contently as you catch the whiff of his cologne. His heartbeat quickened at the smell of your perfume. 

“Question,” he whispered. You chuckle against his chest. Answer. He gulps, nose twitching. “Would it make me a bad person to say that you’re probably the only girl I’ll ever love?” Silence. He screws his eyes shut, gritting his teeth. Why the fuck would he ever say that—

“I’d only say that I don’t deserve to be her,” you respond. “Anyone but me.”

A flinch. “O-of course. You’re getting married, you’re having a baby, what was I th—”

“Honey…”

He freezes. 

You lean back, holding his face between your hands and smiling. “It’s not your name…”

His voice catches. “It’s not…”

A deeper smile. Nostalgic. “A piece of me will always love you.” A pause. “You know me so well. Better than anyone. You’ve seen me naked. You’ve dressed me. You’ve seen me with makeup. You’ve seen me without. And…well—you’ve seen my good side. But you’re also the only one who's seen my bad.”

His palms quickly get sweaty as he tries his best to not do anything he might regret. And not because he’ll wish to take it back, but because you would. Neat brows draw in together as you graze his stubble with your thumb. As nurturing as a mother, which he supposes you already are. 

“I’d say that makes us pretty close, no?”

“Not as close as I’d like to be.” 

“You’ll find someone.” A beat. “Someone who’ll love you right.”

“You didn’t?” he questions before he can stop himself. “Sorry—”

“My love for you was honest. But I blew it.”

I’m still here, he wants to yell out. If you still want me like I want you, then I’m still here.

But he refrains from doing so.

“You’ve never done me wrong,” he attempts, kissing your palm gingerly before softening his gaze. You send a playful glare. “Except for that one time.” You snort. “But I don’t want to talk about it anymore because—because it doesn’t matter anymore…”

Maybe it's the hormones, you sort of wish it was, but you know it’s due to his gentleness. You don’t deserve his sympathy, you don’t deserve even a fraction of it. Crying, you kiss his cheek, hoping everything you feel transfers itself into the warmth of his skin. And you don’t know, but it does just that.

Closing his eyes, he prays to dream about this kiss forever. Have nightmares, who even cares. As long as he doesn’t forget. 

You step away carefully, taking him in as his eyes flutter. 

“Charles Leclerc, first time World Champion…”

He smiles. You smile. 

His dimples pop out. Your eyes crinkle.

He loves you. You love him.

And maybe it didn’t work out in this life.

But maybe in the next.

“May I have an interview with you?”

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious @notkaryna @emmaxdelicate

[kimmryokoo]

"Why would you love an animal like me?" - logan howlet

author: kim ryoko

masterlist

summary: logan has a nightmare about all the people he has killed in the past and starts to think you deserve to be with someone better than him. luckly, you are there to tell him otherwise.

word count: 1.1k

warnings: feeling of not deserving someone, agnst, comfort, emotional dependence, nightmare/slight insomnia, slightly sub logan

author note: english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry for any grammar mistakes, feel free to correct me. Also, I don't know how to feel about this fic, but I hope you like it. and I'm sorry it's short.

A nightmare… again.

But this time, it was different. I din’t dream about the wars; I had a dream about all the people I’ve killed, and God… there where so many.

Maybe I am a monster. An animal, like everyone calls me.

Well, not everybody. She doesn’t call me that. She’s too kind hearted to think that way about anyone; even me. Most times, think I don’t deserve her. That she deserves someone better than me. But she’s always there to tell me I’m wrong. To tell me that I’m actually a kind person that truly deserves to be loved. I want to believe her. I really do. But my mind is always playing these little fucking tricks on me, showing me the bad person everyone knows I am, and I slowly start to believe it’s true again. Why can’t I just live in peace?

If I lived in peace, she could live in peace too. With me.

But why would an animal live in peace?

I wake up, once again, with my claws out and a layer of sweat covering me. I retract my claws, seat up and look to my side. Shit. How can someone be this pretty even when sleeping? And just like that, all those thoughts come running back to me and I feel my heart clench. I know I’m selfish for not letting her go and have the life she deserves with someone better, but I can’t bring myself to let her go. Even in the days where one of us is out on a mission for just 1 hour, my hearts starts to ache from how much I miss her. I wouldn’t survive a single fucking day without her. I move myself a bit to seat at the edge of the bed with my head low. My heart starts beating fast again and with every second that pasts, I feel my insecurities get bigger and bigger. I know I’m fucked up when all I want right now is for the woman sleeping next to me to wake up and kiss and hug all my problems out of me. How could I ever let her go? The only thing I can do is wait for her to grow tired of me like everyone has done after their own time.

I heard the sheets moving behind me and, a few seconds later, I feel two arms wrapping themselves around me, one around my neck and one around my chest, two legs wrapping around my waist and a head snuggling itself to my neck. I smell her scent, the only one that can make me go fucking feral in less than 1 second, and, at the same time, bring me peace no one has ever been able to before.

“Why are you awake? Did you have another nightmare?” she asked and I couldn’t bring myself to answer her so I just nodded. I could only think about how she deserves someone better than an old, murderous, shitty animal.

“Oh honey, I’m so sorry…” she said like it was her fault “Is there anything I can do to help you?” her sweet voice making me melt more with each passing seconds, but also hammering my heart more knowing that the person she ends up with is the luckiest person on earth and I would do anything in my power to be them. To respond to her question I just moved my head again signing a ‘no’.

As if she understood this was worst than normal, she got up and put herself standing between my legs, while cupping my face. Even with me sitting, she wasn’t that much taller than me,which is another thing I find cute i her. One of the thousands. She tilted my head slightly so I was looking at her and I almost forgot everything just by looking at her loved-filled eyes. Almost. She pulled me in for a slow and soft kiss and kissed my forehead as soon as she broke it. She then hugged my head thigh against her chest and I let myself finally enjoy the care she was giving me and relax for a moment.

“Why do you love me?”

“What do you mean, Logan?” she asked genuinely confused as if the question I asked was the stupidest thing on earth.

“Why would you love an animal like me?” I repeated.

“Don’t say stuff like that Logan, you know I don’t like it. And to answer you question, I love you because, either you believe it or not, you are the kindest, most loving person I ever met. You always put everyone else before you, even Scott. Every time you see someone struggling, or sad, you do your very best to help them. Even though you put this ‘tough guy’ look on you face everyday, deep down, you care more about people then you know. I love you, Logan, because you are always ready to give your life in exchange for someone else’s, even a total stranger’s. I don’t care about what you believe or not, or what people tell you or not, but you, James Logan Howlet, The Wolverine or whatever you want to call yourself, you will never be the animal they make you think you are.”

Fuck.

With that I held her tighter and my body started to shake. When she noticed it, she held me even closer than before and started to play with my hair and kissing the top of my head. She relished me from her grip to cup my face again and see the fear and sadness in my eyes as we held eye contact.

“I’m sorry… For burdenin’ you with all my shit problems” I said with a shaky voice.

“Oh, baby… You’re no burden and neither are your problems. I’m here to help you with all your problems the same way you are always there to help me with mine. Nobody’s perfect, but we can be better with the help of each other.”

After a long moment of comfortable silence, I start to feel sleepy in her embrace and murmur a small ‘Thank you’ and she kissed the top of my head again in return. She feels me getting sloppier in her arms and gently helps me to get in bed. She then goes to the other side of the bed and hugs me again, pulling me into her arms, burying her face in my hair and playing with the little ones at the nape of my neck and whispering how much she loved me.

Sometimes, just sometimes, I let myself believe in her and think that an animal like me actually deserves love.

Needless to say I slept like a rock for the rest of the night, finally, nightmare free.

Hope you liked it!

xoxo, kim ryoko

[audliminal]

It's Just a Game, Right? Pt 6

Masterpost

"I'm telling you, Fenton!" Wes announces. "I'm onto you." A few of the kids walking past snicker at them, as Danny does his best to look confused. The startled part is easy; Wes is turning out to be a surprisingly good actor. He's been gradually leaning even harder to the image of a conspiracy nut, and the result is impressive. Danny, on the other hand, is simply trying to keep up with the insanity.

"I have literally no clue what you're talking about, dude." Danny says, attempting to push past Wes, so he can enter their classroom. Wes doesn't seem inclined to let this confrontation end, though.

"You may have everybody else fooled, but I know the truth. You made a pact with the so-called ghosts and their efforts to take over our world. You're just manipulating your parents' tech in order to convince everyone that they actually are ghosts, and not the invading fae army they really are!"

"Dude, what?" Danny responds, not quite able to hold back the laugh.

"Honestly, Wes, don't you have any common sense?" Star asks, as she walks up. "Rumor has it that Fenton's failing like half his classes, and you think a bunch of fae lords, or whatever would trust him to help their scheme? Surely they'd choose someone more competent." She flips her hair, and then walks past the both of them, as a couple of the kids nearest to them start snickering.

Outwardly, Danny winces and hunches in on himself a little more, as he takes the opening Star just created and ducks into the classroom after her.

In hallway outside, Danny catches Wes muttering to himself before following them in. No one says anything for a minute, but the moment the bell rings and Mr Lancer shuts the door, Star turns to Wes.

"I think you should be a writer or something after we get out of here." Star tells him. "That theory was honestly inspired."

"It gets even better. I have so much evidence to force on you guys, it'll be great." Wes answers, then turns to Danny. "You good? I know we don't mean any of it, but it's still gotta suck to have us acting like assholes all the time."

"I mean," Danny hums. "I'm not gonna say it's fun? But like honestly compared to everything else, dissing my work kinda seems..."

"Banal?" Sam offers.

"Yeah, sure, that." Danny nods. "Like, compared to people wanting me dead, who cares, I guess."

"Yikes," Kwan mutters. "Your life is a fucking mess, dude."

"Well, i do have some good news about that." Tucker announces, turning his computer to face everyone else. "Looks like the fanbase is making some progress towards finding the real stuff.

Danny stares at the reddit thread Tucker is on. He's honestly been only loosely paying attention to the actual stuff Tucker and Wes have been posting. He's happy to offer his knowledge of space stuff, or engineering, but the intricacies of secret code aren't really something he ever pursued. Well, except for the secret language he and Tucker had made as kids. Wes, on the other hand, peers at the screen and lets out a soft whoop.

"Hell yeah! They found the second layer!"

"Yeah. Which means they've found our first plea for help."

"Oh, wow," Sam says sardonically. "A plea for help that's so great. Why are they gonna think it's anything other than another part of the damn story."

"Chill out, Sam," Tucker responds. "The point is to encourage them to look harder. And once they find the next level, they'll start finding our info on the infinite realms."

"Whatever," Sam says, frowning. "I just... Don't like how much waiting this involves."

"Yeah it would be a lot easier if we could just, like, beat them up and call it good," Dash agrees. "But, like, jail would probably suck."

"At least they're making progress," Danny points out. "I don't really get how you guys are making these layers, but. It's more progress than anything else we've tried."

"Yeah, but like, what does this mean for us?"

"Why not interact directly with that post?"

"Maybe. We'd have to be extra careful about what and how we say it, so they don't write us off as a copycat or anything, but it could serve to reinforce, uh-" Wes leans in, to read the username. "BenBlues379's theory."

"Okay then, let's draft a reply." Danny zones out as they start to discuss the specifics. He hadn't actually had to go deal with any ghosts last night, but his parents had been working on some new invention, and the noise of their trials had made sure he didn't get much sleep despite the supposed reprieve. Luckily, nobody in this class is going to complain if he takes the opportunity to catch up on the missed shut-eye now, so with one last deep breath, Danny folds himself down onto his and relaxes into sleep, as the sounds of his classmates debating echoes around him.

[eloves-writes]

💜 with carlos sainz!! could you make it spicy? it's ok if you don't want to as well it's your choice :)

fun fact! i can see you was one of my surprise songs at the eras tour and it is very near and dear to my heart😌😌 is this secret relationship trope overdone? yes. will that stop me? no!

song lyric prompt: “i can see you waiting down the hall from me, i can see you up against a wall with me” i can see you ~ taylor swift💜

warnings: kissing, reader n carlos being cute, slightly suggestive, oblivious charles leclerc

————————————————————

the whole press conference, you kept finding your eyes wandering over to carlos opposite you on the large sofa. he looked so beautiful today in his ferrari shirt with his summer break tan and messy yet perfect hair; this was the first time you’d seen him since the last race in spa, not managing to align your vacation plans but mostly not wanting to rouse suspicion if you were caught a beach together somewhere. the secrecy was fun and adrenaline pumping, it made you feel like you were in high school again sneaking around behind your parent’s backs- of course, the stakes were much higher due to your on track ‘rivalry’ with the spaniard. at least, the battling for positions and pushing each other off track was interpreted by the media as such; in reality, it was playful, teasing foreplay that you both enjoyed so much that the thought of getting caught and letting everybody else in on your little game disappointed you both immensely.

when the floor was opened up for questions from the journalists, hands shot up as usual and a question headed straight for you.

“this is for y/n and carlos,” the woman started, respectful in her tone which you appreciated after the shit men had asked you in the years since you started racing. “we’ve all liked watching your on-track battles so far this year, but we wonder if you two are coming in just as hot to the second half of this season, or has the rivalry cooled off over the summer break?”

she posed a valid question, but truthfully it was one you wondered the answer to yourself. had the heat between you cooled in each other’s absence? and if it had, was there an on-track rivalry without the off-track affair?

after a beat of silence allowing you both to think, carlos spoke.

“i don’t know about y/l/n, here,” he answered, connecting his big brown eyes with yours and making your stomach flip. “but i’m coming in just as hot.”

you knew what he was really saying. you paused for a second before answering yourself:

“me too,” you responded playfully. “carlos is a great driver, but i’m better.”

-

as you walked off the stage back to your team’s garage, a hand grabbed your waist and carlos leant down to level his lips with your ear.

“i’m good, but you’re better, huh?”

you turned to look at him, trouble in your eyes. “that’s what i said, yep.”

he grabbed your hand and swiftly dragged you into the ferrari garage without anyone seeing. pushing you up against the wall of the corridor, he kissed you feverishly and you kissed him back, welcoming the taste of his perfect lips on yours again and the gentle pull of his hands tangled in your hair.

“i missed you, cariño,” he breathed, pulling away from the kiss to take in every inch of your face as you did the same to him. you would never tire of seeing him so close up, admiring each feature like it was carved from marble. but it wasn’t; he was so, so real.

“mhm, you’re coming in just as hot,” you teased, quoting his answer to the reporter earlier.

carlos chuckled and nodded his head. “oh yeah. i’m definitely hot for you.”

his sarcastic tone made you laugh, leaning up to kiss him again. the kiss turned from sweet to rough in an instant, and your arms which had been previously draped around his neck dropped to hem of his shirt so your hands could explore his toned stomach under the red fabric as you continued to kiss him. his own hands fell to your ass, grabbing it in a way that pushed your hips forward into his crotch, earning a groan from the taller man.

footsteps down the hall took you out of your intimate moment, immediately removing your hands from each other and putting some needed distance between your bodies. you snorted when you noticed the semi forming in carlos’ jeans, and he lightly hit you on the arm for laughing.

“not my fault,” he said quietly through gritted teeth.

“you dragged me in here,” you whispered. “so kinda is.”

he hit you on the arm again as the source of the footsteps approached and carlos’ teammate came into view. he looked from you to carlos, suspicious.

“think you’re in the wrong garage, y/l/n,” charles joked, going in to hug you. “you alright? carlos hasn’t been trying anything with you, has he? can’t keep his hands to himself,” he continued, clapping his teammate on the back. carlos silently begged you not to start laughing.

“no,” you replied, using all your self control to sound calm and unbothered. “i thought i’d just come and inform him that i’m going to absolutely smash him this weekend.”

you smiled at carlos, milking the double entendre for all it was worth before leaving them both and quickly heading back to your own garage.

-

“you totally like her, mate,” charles laughed at his teammate once you were out of earshot. and carlos could deny it all he wanted, but he totally did.

[xo-adeline]

✮ - Thinking about “you’re not as bad as everybody says you are” with Iwaizumi Hajime

You shrugged slightly as you walked with your friend to her next class. She had been rambling on all lunch about some guy on the volleyball team, and how badly she actually wanted to get to know him. Though whenever she got the chance she was always shut down by this other guy with ‘spiky hair and a mean looking face’. You didn’t really understand all the big hype with some random guy on the volleyball team at your school. Sure. Was he what TV would stereotype as a ‘pretty boy’? Absolutely. But you never saw the same interest as most of the girls around you. The only thing you really knew about the volleyball team was to stay away from this said guy with ‘spiky hair’. Now did you actually know that much about him? No, you never actually cared to learn, you only went there so that you could have a decent education before heading off to college to start your career, but it was what everybody else said about him that made you feel that you had to stay away. You knew that not everything people say is true but even when your friend had repeatedly told you that he was ‘mean’ and ‘abusive’ towards his teammates, it was quite a red flag. Well, that was until you actually met him.

It was a complete accident. You had been walking towards the gym as you were supposed to meet your friend there and the volleyball team happened to be coming out of practice. In all the mix you both accidentally bumped into each other, to which, thank gosh for his quick reflexes, he caught you before you could fall over. It was a short second before he pulled you back upright, apologizing and making sure that you were okay. The mean look that you saw on his face just before you fell completely melting away into one of concern. You hadn't even noticed anything else about him until your friend hurried over to you.

“Oh gosh! Are you okay? Did he try hurting you??”

You were a little confused about your friend's sudden outbreak. Why on god's green earth would he ever try to hurt you? He seemed so sweet and that he even caught you before you fell.

“What? No, he was actually really sweet. Why?”

“Well that’s the guy I was telling you about before, Iwaizumi Hajime. The mean and abusive one towards his teammates, well Oikawa Tooru? Ya know?”

“Weird. He didn’t seem ‘mean’ or ‘abusive’ at all, maybe there is another explanation for what you people see as his ‘abuse’?”

She could only shake her head.

“You don’t watch it as much, you wouldn’t know.”

It wasn’t until the next day that you saw him again. He was standing with some of the other 3rd years, ones that you found out were also on the volleyball team, courtesy of your friend. You didn’t really mind it and continued walking over to your class, well until he walked over and stopped you.

“Hey, you were that girl from yesterday, right? The one that I accidentally bumped into yesterday, sorry about that, once again.”

“Oh yeah, sorry about that as well”

He only smiled once he heard that it was you. Definitely didn’t go through the whole volleyball team to try and figure out your schedule in the morning so he could talk to you, definitely not! It wasn’t long before the two of you were actually having a pretty good conversation, luckily just before the bell rang he was able to ask you if you’d like to talk again after his practice, to which you responded with a yes, before turning and both going your separate ways.

He had given you the time to be over at the gym to which you tried your best to be there on time, but with trying to figure out which entrance he was talking about and not losing track of time you ended up being a couple minutes late. He was still sitting on one set of bleachers as you peeked in. Noticing that he was the only one there, you walked in a couple steps before he noticed you, waving you over to come sit with him, even moving his bag down to the floor to make a spot next to him on his right. You walked over sitting down next to him looking over at the already polished court.

“Soo.. how was practice?”

You started off, unsure the reason he had actually wanted to talk to you. He seemed a little surprised by your question but answered pretty quickly.

“It was good. Besides Oikawa being a little shit at the end, but that’s normal for him.”

You could only laugh. It wasn’t often you heard Oikawa being talked about in a more negative tone.

“So I’m assuming you two are pretty good friends?”

He nodded.

“Sadly. We’ve been friends since childhood, basically grew up with him.”

Light Bulb.

They were childhood friends. Of course they were a little mean to each other, and what others saw as ‘abuse’ was really just because they had been friends for so long, not because he was actually hurting him.

“Ohhh! So that’s why she said that.”

He looked a little confused

“Who said what?”

“Oh, sorry! It was something my friend had mentioned the other day about you ‘abusing’ Oikawa.”

He seemed to understand, and frowned slightly.

“Lemme guess. Your friend is an Oikawa fan?”

“Yup.”

He nodded, looking down at his phone.

“Well It’s getting pretty late.. We should head out before it gets too dark. How about I walk you home, since I was the one who had you stay late?”

“Oh, you really don’t have to do that!

“I insist.”

So with that he ended up walking you home, trying to make small talk on the way back. Asking about your day, how your friend was, anything interesting you were learning in your class, ya know, the norm. It wasn’t until you actually made it to your doorstep that it was quiet for a few seconds. He was about to say goodbye before you spoke up.

“Ya know. You’re not as bad as everybody says you are.”

You leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek before waving and heading back inside your house. He stood there shocked for a moment. It wasn’t normal that he received attention, especially not from girls. After the entail shock was over he smiled and pulled out his phone as he walked home.

Safe to say, Oikawa was confused, and both Mattsun and Hanamaki are now gonna try to find who caught the heart of their stubborn ace.

[bellewintersroe]

Joe Liebgott x Reader

You and Joe are ‘best friends’ that occasionally mess around… Joe’s feelings are revealed to you when he defends you from a rather nasty D-company soldier.

“Yeah D-day was a whole new level of crazy.” I agreed with the conversation that was occurring in the British pub. It was late, everybody had drunken more than a few beers and somehow the topic circulated back to war. It was never a good mix, alcohol and such traumatic conversations. I crossed my legs, taking a sip from my wine, only glancing up again when I heard the soft laugh of a man from D company who’d joined in on the conversation.

“What would you know about it?” He was laughing at me. The question was something I was used to, it seemed the men sometimes forgot us field nurses did more than just stay back in England- which on its own was an accomplishment, but I wouldn’t let mine go forgotten.

“More than you think.” My brows raised in amusement, I’d dealt with this hundreds of times before. “Here’s a girl, what can’t be more than 20? Telling me she knows all about Normandy.” He laughed, nudging his buddies.

“She does. She was there.” Joe spoke from besides me, responding to the man as though it was obvious. I felt my heart swell at Joe butting in, shutting this guy up. We were nothing more than what seemed to be fuck buddies- but my feeling argued otherwise.

“You? Out at Normandy? You can’t even lift a pint, girl, nevermind carry a grown man.” The comment caused a sense of anger like no other to trigger inside me. Men being surprised we nurses were capable of such strenuous work was understandable. But disbelieving and shaming me? That was a step too far. Just as I opened my mouth to snap back a response, another voice cut me off.

“Oh fuck.” Joe borderline laughed, sliding his pint carelessly onto the bar. “Don’t you speak to her like that.” The laughter died out fast, clearly he was pissed. He answered before I could, I didn’t know if it was a good or bad thing, considering this had been an issue before where he’d physically fought a man for me- I didn’t want to see that again.

“Oh what, Liebgott, are you her boyfriend now or somethin’?” The man attempted to laugh again. My mouth fell slightly agape, attempting to place a hand on Liebgotts arm.

“So what if I was?” Joe scraped his chair back, walking past me, daggers formed on this other guys stupid face. Oh great. “Joe, sit down.” I muttered but he waved his hand slightly towards me, anger obvious seeing as the vein had began to bulge out of his neck. His chest was puffed and he began speaking again.

“What’s it to do you with you, huh? Last I heard you didn’t even make it out the plane.” People had started to take notice now, attempting to hush Liebgott and his harsh responses.

“That’s none of your fucking business!” The man now stood up in return, clearly aggravated by Liebgott’s comment. “Joe!” I exclaimed, knowing I’d have absolutely no input on what the outcome of this would be. My heart was in my chest, fearing what would soon follow.

“Watch your fucking mouth then, talking about shit you don’t have a fucking clue about.” Joe spat back, several pairs of hands attempting to pull him back. Out of nowhere, the man reached forwards, pushing Joe back. It was as though he expected it, barely moving too far, and instead springing back and bounding forwards, fist colliding with the man’s jaw with a horrendous crack. Drinks went flying and men jumped in to try break apart the sudden outburst.

I gasped in shock, sliding off my barstool in order to not get caught up in the chaos. Limbs were flying everywhere, body’s pushing to either get involved or get a view of the fight. “Hey, Y/n.” Guarnere tugged me out of the way, thankfully, I was too stunned to move otherwise, trapped by multiple bodies surrounding me. I felt sick, guilty, overwhelmed. I was so powerless in a situation I felt I could’ve diffused. Liebgott would jump into a fight for me, but I didn’t understand why. We weren’t exactly together.

A quick exhale escaped my lips as I scurried out, away from the crowded pub, struggling to manoeuvre my way through the nosy crowd. Being here with Liebgott in the first place was a mistake. I was so stupid, so so stupid, and so was he. I shoved the door open, scurrying out into the chilly autumn breeze, wrapping my arms around my front in an aid to protect my bare skin.

I felt like crying, not only was I humiliated, but I was reminded how much I really fucking was in love with Joe. I hated myself for catching feelings for him, so badly. As my feet hit the pavement I heard the door slam open followed by rowdy noise that was soon drowned out when it shut again.

“Hey!” Joe called out. I huffed, looking up to the sky and continuing with my quickened pace. “Hey! Y/n, wait!” He jogged up to me quicker than I’d expected. “Wait up.” He let out a gentle laugh, thinking this was all some big joke.

“Leave me alone, Joe.” I spoke as he held onto to my arm gently, causing me to pause in the middle of the road, facing him directly. “Are you ok?” He asked seriously now, lip slightly bloodied and busted from where he’d caught a punch. Joe didn’t hesitate to pull off his blazer, wrapping it over my shoulders. “Fuck that guy, y’know. You’re way better than him.” He muttered as he tugged it further down my shoulders. I hated the way my stomach fluttered, my heart was beating way too fast and I didn’t have the willpower in me to shrug his blazer off.

“I know.” I responded, blinking back down to the ground. “Good.” He nodded. “Joe, you didn’t have to get hurt for me.” I sighed out, gazing back over to his face.

“I’d knock out anybody who spoke to you that way.” My breath became caught in my throat as I turned away from him once more. “What, what is it?” He taught on quick. My jaw was tight and I slowly peeled the blazer back off.

“Joe we can’t sleep together anymore.”

“What? Why?” He seemed stunned as I held out his blazer. “No, keep it- what? What makes you say that?” His voice genuinely sounded disappointed, hurt, confused?

“I-I don’t know, Joe.” I lied.

“Was it the fight cos I swear I-”

“Joe, no-”

“- I won’t do that again, I didn’t mean to scare you-”

“No it’s not tha-”

“- I won’t do it again! I’m sorry, dammit!” The two of us spoke over one another, only shutting up at his curse. “I won’t do that again, y/n, I’m sorry. I-I never expected you to get scared.”

“Im not scared of you, Joe. Im scared that you got hurt.” I felt tears beginning to brim my eyes.

“Im fine, you should see the other guy.” He now reached out, nudging the blazer in my hand back towards my body. “I don’t care about the other guy, I care about you! God damn it, Joe. Why are you so blind?” I burst into tears, stuffing his blazer back onto his arm as I completely turned away, beginning to walk. He stood for a moment, stunned before following me.

“Hey, hey, c’mon. Talk to me, baby.” There he was with his pet names, the stupid ones that had me so weak in the knees. His blazer was quickly wrapped over my shoulder, arm hugging me close as he walked slowly beside me. I was mortified that I’d just started crying like that, wiping my tears quickly and swallowing any other urges to cry quickly away.

“I’m fine, I’m not hurt. Did he hurt your feelings?” Joe muttered again. “No.” I pathetically sighed, feeling the admission burning heavy on my chest. The words were on the tip of my tongue, threatening to be spilt.

“Then I don’t understand, Angel, c’mere.” He attempted to hug me close. “No! We can’t do this anymore, Joe!” I desperatly spoke, pulling backwards. “Y/n?” He blinked in confusion. “I can’t do this anymore, I can’t sleep with you anymore! It’s killing me, Joe.”

“Y/n…” he repeated, much softer this time, brows furrowed and lips parted as he watched me through my distress. “I love you, Joe. I do, and I hate it.” There it went. Clearly, he was stunned, eyes widening as he stuttered a little.

“You hate it? Why?” He slowly asked as I sighed, continuing my walk. “Dammit, y/n, just stop walking away and speak to me!” He tugged at my arm, standing closer to me.

“You love me?” He asked in borderline disbelief. “Don’t rub it in, Joe.” I wiped at my eyes. “No, you fucking love me.” He commented again as I sniffled out, attempting to turn away until he tilted my face back to look at him.

“It’s a good thing, huh, doll?” He breathlessly spoke, stepping closer to me so our bodies stumbled backwards slightly. I didn’t know where he was going with his words, I’d already accepted the rejection. “Yeah, it’s a good thing I fucking love you too, huh?” His hand held under my chin, smiling at the slight gasp that escaped my mouth.

“I really fuckin’ love you.” He added on, moving down and pressing his lips firmly against mine. Holy shit. My surprise was unexplainable. Our teeth almost clashed from how strongly he was kissing me, Joe held me a little tighter than all the other times, pushing his jawline forwards to eagerly kiss me.

Who would’ve thought all this would come out of a stupid fight, huh?

[scoobydoodean]

hot take ig but… dean wanting to contain jack was not cruel or even a bad idea…

first, it was not just dean’s idea. sam agreed, and cas had basically the same idea, just using the cage instead. but for some reason everybody ignores this!! second, containing dangerous people is what they always do. sam and cas have done so to dean. the s5 finale was all about locking up a dangerous powerful being. and there are other examples! third, jack was the most powerful being in the universe and had no soul meaning no ability to discern right from wrong. he was killing people! and they’ve always seen soulless people as dangerous. dean was willing to let sam die via the process of returning his soul bc he saw that soulless sam was not sam. and sam agreed!

like. yes dean was not handling the situation well, let alone gently, so i understand why sam and cas were frustrated. but his mother had just been killed (and ftr i do think cas was being kind of insensitive about it), and jack was still killing other people. dean’s allowed to be angry. he was being outwardly meaner, but sam was agreeing with him (he said a part of him wanted jack dead!) up until the point that dean actually agreed to kill jack for chuck.

idk i just feel like people really exaggerate dean’s actions in this situation especially in comparison to what sam and cas were saying and/or doing too. so i’m just wondering what you think of all of this? do you think dean was “right” or was he overreacting? or do you think the audience is too hard on dean (as always :/) about this? could this be another version of samdela effect? cause i feel like people misremember what the others were saying/doing in order to put more on dean…

also omg i just realized how long this became, so so sorry for the long rant!! if you can respond, thank you!

*opens my coat* would you care for some memes?

I will take your hot take and flambé it. When it comes to this subject, I don't feel inclined to be patient with fandom or carefully lay anything out piece by piece. I'm sick and tired of hearing about what a betrayal it was to put Jack in the box and how mean and evil and abusive it was blah blah blah cry me a river. I was there watching when that episode aired and saw how stupid everyone was about that episode in real time and it was annoying then and it continues to be annoying that almost no one seems to bother putting a single granule of thought into this episode or what Sam and Dean were thinking or what the stakes actually were. And yeah—it was not just Dean who did that despite the samdela effect hard at work causing people to insist Dean somehow forced Sam to go along with him when that categorically did not happen.

People act like Jack was just standing there shitting rainbows and unicorns out of his ass and Dean turned around and strangled him to death for it. What happened was Soulless Jack killed Sam and Dean's mom and then went off and turned someone into a pillar of salt for being an atheist and filled someone else's body with worms to punish them for not wanting to be turned into an angel. Then he showed up at the bunker trying to make nice in the most hauntingly emotionless way possible—calling killing Mary an accident and then in his next breath saying he snapped and killed her because she threatened to reveal that the manner in which he killed Nick was scary and disturbed. In other words—he made it very clear to Mary's sons that murdering her was not actually a fucking accident at all even while he was calling it one.

Jack: I know -- I know things have been bad. A-And, if it helps, I regret it. The accident. Sam: The -- The accident? Jack: What happened to Mary. She kept talking about my soul, t-that I didn't have a soul, and she kept pushing. Dean: Oh, so she made you do it. Jack: No, it -- it was me, but I didn't want this no-soul thing to become an issue between us. I guess I snapped. Before I knew it, it was all over. Dean: "It" being the accident.

So Sam and Dean tricked him (the most powerful being in all creation) into getting in a box and he sat in there for 10 minutes. Oh no. How horrible.

A lot of the stupid fandom response to this is rooted in the babyfication of Jack that ran rampant within fandom at the time and continues in many circles. I happen to like Jack, and when I say that, I mean that I actually like him, and not the fanon adultbabydestiellovechild the fandom invented who has the emotional and mental capacity of a two year old and can't understand the difference between right and wrong. The real Jack did understand, and the real Jack would be (and was when he returned) horrified by what soulless Jack did (and for more than just how it would impact him). Jack was always an emotional person who struggled to control great power, but he had a strong moral compass and he loved people. That Jack would never have subjected someone to the twisted biblical punishments soulless Jack did for the crime of not believing in god or in him???? That Jack would have thrown Dumah into a wall in a rage for the mere suggestion he kill people over their beliefs and said, "You're hurting people". That Jack also would have wanted Sam and Dean to lock him up to protect others.

Some of the fandom problem with this also has to do the soulless lore as a whole and the constant usage of Donatello as the "soulless people can manage" poster child. Which ignores not only soulless Jack's actual behavior and how deeply dangerous his powers make him, but... pretty much every other soulless person we ever saw in the series, from soulless Sam, to numerous victims of Amara who turned into raging murderers in season 11 after she ate their souls. Hell though—the same people who insist soulless Jack was some poor little baby who just needed gentle parenting probably also think there was nothing wrong with soulless Sam despite the fact that he watched his brother be assaulted multiple times and seemed to actively enjoy it. Just normal Sam things, right? Donatello is the exceptional soulless person—not the rule—and it's because it isn't in his best interest to make trouble.

The idea that soulless Jack could be molded was suggested by Cas, but he also (as you pointed out) ended up inquiring about putting Jack in The Cage, instead of the Ma'lak box (and after the Ma'lak box was destroyed, so it wasn't an option anymore).

Lbr—the misogyny also jumped out in this string of episodes. Countless posts one after the other about how stupid Mary was and how it was all her fault and Jack did nothing wrong. How dare she make Jack angry. God forbid. What a stupid, frail, illogical woman. She deserved to die long before that anyway because she was a terrible mother, right? I mean it was obvious this sort of nonsense would come from the fandom in advance, given how many people had meltdowns over Dean shooting Jack in the back (something that didn't hurt Jack in the least) to get him to stop strangling a black store clerk to death in 13.23. As always, the imagined frail little fee fees of the white adult baby that fans invented must supersede other people's lives. Jack should be allowed to throw whatever tantrums he wants and kill anyone he wants during them and in response, Dean should shush him and start singing lullabies and carry him to a rocking chair to nurse.

[coolyiooo]

BSD Men - When Someone They Know Has A Crush On You

pairings: Dazai, Ranpo, Fyodor

❗Warnings❗biting, marking, hickeys, slight angst, PDA stuff

🖤DAZAI🖤

Dazai has been noticing how Kunikida has been acting differently towards you. He just seems more timid and nicer to you than the rest of the ADA members. You don't seem to notice it, but he definitely does.

I feel like Dazai wouldn't say anything directly towards Kunikida about how he knows he likes you, but he'd give subtle hints to him. He saw how Kunikida kept looking where you sat in the ADA office ,which was right next to him, and Dazai would say in a teasing tone,

"whatcha looking at Kunikida?" Kunikida blushes a bit

"go back to work. I was just spacing out" he said nonchalantly, only making Dazai smirk.

Sometimes during work, Dazai will just walk up from behind your chair and hug you and whisper sweet nothing's in your ear, but loud enough for Kunikida to hear

"Your so beautiful my belladonna~" he gave you a kiss on the cheek. You were blushing.

"Can't stay away from me for two seconds?" You teasingly asked

"I don't see you complaining my love" he kissed your cheek again with a loving smile.

"I suppose you don't recall our last discussion about PDA rules? Can't you guys wait until you go home?"

"I think someone is jealous~" Dazai responded

"What do you mean?" Kunikida asked a bit startled, wondering if Dazai found out about his secret.

"Just that you don't have a girlfriend, but wait didn't your little journal say you won't find your soulmate until-"

"Enough! Go back to your seat Dazai!"

Dazai would also definitely leave bite marks and hickeys on your neck just so Kunikida can see and remind him who you belong to.You tried your best to cover your hickeys and bite marks Dazai gave you last night, but some of it was still noticeable. You'd have to really look directly at your neck to notice.

During work Kunikida looked at your direction and noticed some marks on your neck, the longer he looked at it he finally knew what it was. He'd get a bit hurt, just another reminder you belong to someone else, but why does it have to be him?

He looked at Dazai and Dazai felt his stare, he'd look back at him "Hm? Getting distracted again Kunikida? Its becoming a bad habit~"

"Oh shut up I was just thinking for one second"

"Oh? About what?"

"None of your business. Get your work done"

Dazai's lips curled into a smirk. Honestly he'd probably feel a tad bad for Kunikida, but at the same time he doesn't just bc there's no way he'd willingly give you up for Kunikida. He knows that you love him and not Kunikida and that he wouldn't make a move on you.

💚RANPO💚

The second he saw how Dazai looked at you, he knew instantly that Dazai has fallen for you. Dazai would know that Ranpo knows that he likes you and Ranpo would know that Dazai knows that he figured out his little crush on you.

Sorry for making this confusing, but they're intellectuals so.

Ranpo wouldn't be insecure or scared about you leaving him for Dazai because he knows you love him, but he'd still keep a close eye on Dazai because he's very flirtatious and a bit touchy towards you. Ranpo would probably confront Dazai about it.

"You do know that being flirty with y/n won't get you anywhere right?"

Dazai smiles sinisterly " yes I'm well aware, but are you perhaps a bit frightened she might choose me over you?"

Ranpo laughs "HA! ofc not! I know she loves me dearly, I just wouldn't want you to get your hopes up so please know your place" he says with a smile.

Dazai looks away, a sinister smile still on his face "Alright, You always know what's best "

Ranpo would know Dazai wouldn't really try anything too bold and Dazai really wouldn't just because he knows it's a loosing game. Still doesn't mean that Ranpo won't show Dazai how much you love him.

It was another normal day at the ADA office and Ranpo was craving some love from you.

He yells across the office "Baby cakes! Can you please come here?"

Everybody jolted from the sudden yelling after the office being quiet for a long period of time. You looked at your boyfriend who was smiling at you.

"Hm? Alright" You walked right next to your boyfriend's side

"is there something wrong?"

Ranpo then suddenly held your waist and forced you to sit on his lap making you yelp. He put his arms around you, hugging you from behind, and put his chin on your shoulder. You were a blushing mess and caught by surprise. Everybody in the office just ignored you and luckily Kunikida wasn't there at the office today.

Ranpo chuckled, "nothing wrong, you were just so cute I couldn't help myself!" He snuggled his nose to your neck .

You chuckled softly, "alright but if you become more of a distraction I will have to go back to my seat"

He sighed gently "fineee" he gives you a quick peck on the neck making you smile.

Ranpo knew Dazai wasn't really watching but he didn't need to, to know what was happening. Ranpo was just smiling to himself. Dazai would feel sorrowful about the situation but he'll just smile through the pain as always :( he'd probably keep his distance from you and that distance will grow larger just so he won't be so heartbroken.

💜FYODOR💜

Our man is very observant so he noticed how Nikolai was more open with you and would try his hardest to make you laugh or how he also took notice on Nikolai's body language and tone in his voice when he's with you. He just knew Nikolai is interested in you.

I feel like Fyodor wouldn't say anything to Nikolai just so there wouldn't be conflict and that'd ruin his plans so he just keeps you and Nikolai at a distance.

I can see Fyodor sneakily making up excuses to separate you two from interacting, but when he can't, he'll find other ways to show Nikolai that he can't have you

Fyodor walks into a room while looking for you, when he does find you he sees that Nikolai is there with you. You were both laughing at whatever the hell y'all were talking about that you didn't even notice your boyfriend standing by the doorway, staring at you two. When you finally realize Fyodor is there, you smile at him.

"Oh hi Fedya! Are you taking a break?"

Nikolai looks at Fyodor with a bit of disappointment, you can barley notice it but Fyodor did.

"No my love, but I do need to see you for a moment" he walks towards you two

"Oh alright! Well bye Nikolai"

You wave Nikolai goodbye while getting up from your seat, he waves back at you

"Don't be gone for too long! You are the only one who cures my boredom" he replied

Fyodor's held his arm out to you and you take his hand, but he smoothly slides it to your hips and takes you to your room. Nikolai's eyes follow you two until your completely out of the room.

When you and Fyodor make it to your room, he starts to gently kiss you and caress your body while putting your back against the wall. You were caught off guard, but you immediately kissed back. Your arms were around his neck and his were on your waist as you both make out passionately.

You pulled on his hair slightly to pull away from the kiss.As you were slightly breathing heavily you asked

"is this why you wanted to see me?" You smiled slightly while tilting your head to the side

"Not exactly"

"Hm? Don't tell me you were a little jealous Fedya~" you asked with amusement in your voice

"Why would I be jealous my love? I have no reason to"

"Yeah your right, jealousy doesn't suit you.. but maybe possessive?"

He pulls your hair back, leaving your neck exposed, making you gasp.He then sinks his teeth into your neck, not enough to make you bleed, he then leaves a couple hickeys on your soft neck and pulls away.

"I just have to remind others what's mine" he kisses your bite mark then looks into your eyes with his harsh ones.

"Don't hide these do you understand?"

You smile at him "wasn't planning on it"

When you return to Nikolai, he sees the marks on your neck. He'll joke/tease you about it as a way to cope with what he's feeling and Fyodor will be able to see the pained look in Nikolai's eyes, but he'll hold no sympathy for him only pity.

[yowumi]

Hotshot surgeon Gojo x Medical Student Reader Ft. Hotshot Surgeon Suguru [ modern au ] TW. Pregnancy & Love Triangle

Shotgun Wedding Ch. 04 | The Proposal

Summary. Satoru Gojo, The states #1 Neurosurgeon, known for his wealthy clan. He was known for his success, parties, and his willingness to fuck anybody and everybody in a 10 mile radius. Unfortunately, one unlucky night, you make the wise decision to do what any hard working young medical student would do when faced with a sexy doctor…you sleep with him in which changes your life forever.

.

.

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Warnings. Accidental pregnancy, no protection (wrap it before you tap it), love triangle, roommates (they all live together), satoru is a bit of a meanie, plot twists, angst, smut, you only end up with one.

A/N. this is my first time writing a fanfic, although i’ve always wanted to! i’m always open to take constructive criticism or any tips to make my writing better! I hope you guys enjoy and definitely lemme know if you have any suggestions, read well luv <3

keep up! // ch. 1 // ch. 2 // ch. 3 // ch. 4 // ch. 5 (coming soon)

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ─── ─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ─── ─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───

“Ah Megumi what a great surprise, it’s been a while since Satoru has dragged you out here” geto jokes, pulling Megumi into a tight hug leaving a pat on his back.

“Yeah unfortunately”

“Hey! I know you love spending time with your older brother!” Satoru pouts while trying to reference himself in which Megumi responds in a disgusted huff,

“He already agreed to come here, no need to torture him too much, Satoru” Suguru closes the door behind you guys finding his way to glide his hand on the small of your back, sending shivers down your spine.

You try and ignore it as you walk into the living room, Suguru guiding you to the kitchen where he has food prepared for laters dinner, which makes you eye ball the delicious food being teased in your face.

Megumi pulls Satoru the side with a small, “We’ve got to talk.” leaving Satoru confused as he follows behind him.

“What’s this all about?” he asks in confusion as they are both now pulled aside.

“I know” He pauses trying to find the words, “I know that you’re the father of the child she’s carrying” He raises his voice a little.

“I figured that much considering you didn’t talk to me nor her for nearly 2 months, I understand you may not like me but it has nothing to do with her” He says, his voice becoming more calm compared to the hyper playful voice he usually kept around Megumi.

“What the hell were you thinking? Knocking her up like that? She deserves better than you, you know you can’t commit to her and give her what she deserves so why the hell would you do it, why?” his voice struggled to stay consistent feeling emotions trying to tear their way out of his throat.

Why was he so upset about this? Why did he care so much who you were with? Why the hell couldn’t he control his emotions.

And it was almost as if Satoru reads his thoughts because his face falls with a new look of realization, he stutters for a moment, “Wait..this isn’t about me, is it? you like her, Megumi…Oh.” He says looking down in guilt.

He cared about you. He cared about Suguru. But Megumi…he took care of Megumi the best way he could as a teenager, seeing the look on Megumi’s face truly made him realize the damage he had inflicted on him.

He would have never done it if he knew Megumi had still loved her.

“This isn’t about me. This is about her and I understand what’s done is done but promise me that you won’t leave her alone with this, promise me you won’t hurt her or fuck around like you do with everything else.” His heart feels heavy, he can’t even keep eye contact.

“Listen…I know i don’t have a good history with relationships and that stuff but I do care about y/n. I wouldn’t do anything that would jeopardize her happiness, trust me on that.”

Megumi takes a few seconds to process it before slowly nodding, “I think we should head back inside.” He says before walking past him.

MEANWHILE IN THE KITCHEN WITH Y/N & SUGURU:

“So…” You start,

“So!” He says cheerfully, putting his elbows down on the counter in front of you, with an interested expression on his face.

“I actually have a question…it’s about Satoru’s parents.” You say nervously hoping he would give you any tips or warnings on what to expect.

“Well, they’re great people as one would say while talking about one of the most popular and rich families in Tokyo but honestly…They can be a little rough on Satoru, and I wouldn’t take anything they say to heart, They seemed to have had an effect on Satoru’s last girlfriend.” He trails off suddenly not wanting to talk about it at the mention of his last girlfriend.

“What happened to his last girlfriend…?” You didn’t want to push any boundaries but you couldn’t help but feel curious on the sudden change of mood at the mention of her.

“Uh…Well-“ He’s cut off before hearing a rowdy Satoru enter the room excitedly, placing a hand beside you.

“Heyyy so what are we talking about!”

“Oh we were just talking about-“ You are about to say before getting cut off by Suguru, “Oh it’s nothing Satoru, just talking about your parents.” He says.

Satoru looks at you looking for any concern before putting a comforting hand on your shoulder, “Oh don’t worry, they aren’t that bad, just ignore most of what they say and you’ll hold up just fineee” He trails off his words playfully as he picks at the food in front of him, earning a slap on the hand from Suguru causing a wince from him

‘ Knock Knock ‘

A knock that seemed to make the room go dead silent, as if everyone went still knowing who was at the other end of the door, making your nerves rise as your hand begins to shake a little.

Satoru notices this and gives you a pat on the head, “Don’t be nervous, everything will be fine.” He says before opening the door, on the other side stood his parents.

His mother, a woman who aged beautifully, long white hair down to her back waved carelessly in the wind outside and his father, who Satoru must take from, being a spitting image of each other, only his fathers face much older and less peaceful, his father held a serious blunt expression. Making you feel intimidated.

You can see where Satoru gets his good looks from, his parents were both jaw dropping.

His mother walks in as Suguru gives her a hug and friendly kiss on the cheek, “You look not a day over twenty, Ms. Gojo, you amaze me.” He compliments her, causing her to chuckle as she walked towards Megumi in which she asked how the boy was doing.

“How are things Megumi? You know you always have that offer if you’d like to get out of that small apartment of yours.” She says, causing Megumi starting to fail hiding his expressions,

“I think i’m fine with where i’m at, thanks.” He says wanting to move on from the conversation.

Meanwhile, Satoru’s father gave out handshakes to the men, greeting them firmly, almost business like.

Once they had both got to you, they paused. You felt unaware of what to do in the moment, wanting to play it safe, you start up words, “Hello, I’m-“ before being interrupted by Satoru.

“This is my girlfriend Y/n, I thought you should meet her.” He says, making you furrow your eyebrows at him almost offended at the thought of being his girlfriend.

“Girlfriend? You never mentioned a girlfriend before or the times we’ve talked on the phone?” His mother questions suspicious as his father gives you a look of judgement. Suddenly you felt conscious of how you looked and appeared.

“Ah well yes it’s a little new.” He says trying to play it off. You wait for him to mention the part where you are pregnant with his child, yet it never seems to come. Did he really not tell his parents yet?

“Ah well uhm okay, it’s nice to meet you uh, y/n was it?” His mother asks giving you a fake smile as her and her husband shared a look or perhaps, the look.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both Mr. and Mrs. Gojo!” You say trying to give them a friendly smile in which they choose to ignore your presence.

“Well then, i smell food and you know how much I miss Suguru’s cooking, I assume we shall eat now” She says clapping her hands as everyone followed along, Satoru’s father still glaring at you.

At the table, small talk was made about how Satoru’s career was going along with Suguru in which received positive feedback in which everything felt okay until the conversation was brought up about Megumi and the past.

“Oh i remember how skinny and fragile he was, jesus the kid was living in such poverty, thank god his father passed or else he would’ve been stuck eating scraps if it weren’t for Satoru.” She says laughing as she sipped her wine.

The talk of losing his father and how he grew up seemed to cause Megumi to go quiet.

The attention seemed to now be turned towards you as Mr. Gojo finally speaks up for the first time since they’ve sat down, “So y/n, I assume you don’t come from money, correct?” He asks bluntly, taking his fork to carve his meat.

You feel yourself start to become uncomfortable which doesn’t go unnoticed but you decide to answer, “Uh well no i suppose i don’t.” You say looking down at your plate, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

“I’m going to be blunt about this, what is it that you’re using my son for? sex? money? or perhaps do you think satoru will raise your status so you could become a surgeon?” He asks crossing his hands over each other.

“Father-“ Satoru starts before his father puts his hand up as a sign for Satoru not to speak,

“Let her speak.” He says and the room became quiet.

You felt offended by what his father was saying. As if money, sex or a title at work would make you want to deal with Satoru on a daily basis. But what boiled your blood more than that was the fact he was asking this only because you didn’t grow up rich.

“None of the Above.” You state, the boil in your blood causing a sudden rise of confidence.

“Oh no need to be humble darling. Just tell me what you want from him or our family and you can get it now rather than distracting my son.” He says leaning back in his seat.

“I am telling the honest truth, I don’t want his money or his-“ You get cut off by Satoru. “Okay dad I think that’s enough interrogating, He’s just joking-“ Satoru says trying to lighten the mood.

“I’m asking an honest question and I would like it if you’d stop interrupting her, Satoru.” He says, almost as a warning as you see Satoru’s change in emotion at the mention of his father saying his name.

“Listen, I don’t want shit to do with your money or using Satoru as anything, Id appreciate it if you stopped accusing me of this bullfuckery” You blurt letting your hormones getting the best of you…or perhaps your temper.

“Tell your whore to watch her mouth.” His mother commented causing your blood to boil as you got up from your chair, Satoru rushing to hold you back, “The fuck did you just say?” You said heated.

In the corner of your eye you can see Megumi with a surprised yet slightly amused expression at the sight of someone standing up towards the Gojo’s.

“I think we should all just calm down, okay?” He says looking at everyone.

“Get your whore a leash and a muzzle while you’re at it. How dare you let her speak to your mother that way!” Satoru’s mom says sipping her glass on wine carelessly.

“Oh i can say a lot worst-“ You say before satoru pulls you back cautiously so he won’t hurt you standing between you and his mother.

“I demand you to leave this woman at once.”

“I can’t do that mother.” He says trying to avoid eye contact.

“Oh sure you can, you can do much better than this whore with a mouth on her!” His mother starts to raise her voice.

“You don’t understand mother, I am not leaving y/n and that is final.” He says and his mother grows furious.

“Oh enlighten me! what’s so special about this woman, because you two haven’t interacted with each other all night so don’t bullshit me that you two are in love.” She yells.

“I- I-“ He stutters wondering if he should just say it. He looks at you looking at how furious and offended you were and the disappointed look on Suguru’s face across the table. “y/n is pregnant.” He says.

His mother seems to not understand as she goes on, “So? You don’t need to take on charity cases-“ She gets interrupted by Satoru who blurts out, “No mother, the baby is mine. I got her pregnant!”

His father’s eyes widen before him and Mrs. Gojo look at each other, them both deciding to stand up.

“Satoru. A word. Now.” His father demands as he walks out of the room, his mother trailing behind him as Satoru looks worried down at you before following his parents.

From the dining table you could hear the faint sounds of yelling and arguing coming from Satoru’s office causing a sudden guilt to fill your stomach, this all felt like so much. You needed fresh air.

You walked out of the room going outside to the snow as you lay on the ground, slowly making a snow angel. Something so childish yet comforting in the moment. You couldn’t quite figure out what about this action made you feel so warm yet you were in the cold.

“I can go-“ Suguru says before trying to follow after you outside before Megumi Interrupts, “I’ve got this one, thanks” He says as Suguru respects that as he begins to clean up the table.

You hear the door close in which you see moments later a familiar black haired man in front of you, hands in his pockets before settling down on the ground next to you, laying still compared to you who was making motions in order to make a snow angel.

“I have a question for you.”

“What?” You asked confused as Megumi isn’t typically the type to ask questions so suddenly.

“Are you happy?” He asks concerned, looking at you in the corner of his eye.

“I mean considering what just happened moments ago, i wouldn’t exactly say i’m too-“

“You know that isn’t what I mean.” He says firmly. You sigh, “Yeah, I know.”

You take a few moments to let the silence take up space as you think about his question.

“I don’t think it matters if I am”

“I think it does, you should be able to choose what life you want to live.”

“I have to do what’s best for this baby, if i chose how to live based on my emotions, I wouldn’t be having this baby. Don’t you think i’m scared? Scared of being a mother, scared of being something that i’m not even familiar with.” You say, a tear breaking its way out of your eye causing you to sniffle a little.

Megumi seems to understand now, “I understand. But just give me the word and i promise i will pick you up from this dump and you can leave it all behind” He says, casually calling Satoru’s million dollar mansion a dump, causing a small choked up laugh to come out of you making a small smile appear on megumi’s lips.

Surprisingly, Megumi’s hand find its way to yours. An act of comfort.

Megumi is suddenly filled with the slight hint of nostalgia having an old feeling hit him hard, making him remember.

MEGUMI POV SWITCH: 7 YEARS AGO

‘ knock knock ‘

he hears the frantic knocking coming from the door, knowing exactly who it was. he opened the door expecting to see her but there was no one there.

he walked out expecting you to have forgot something from your car or for you to be hiding yet no sign before suddenly being hit by a snowball right in the chest, his gaze turned towards y/n, his next door neighbor and best friend.

“gotcha!” he watched her laugh as she ran away as he walked behind her, her keeping a slow enough pace for him to see where she was going yet not slow enough for him to catch up.

she finally stopped in her tracks, tumbling down on the floor with a ‘thump. her body motioned back and forth attempting to create a snow angel as she laughed.

he would watch in awe before she grabbed a hand out to him encouraging him to join her, in which he didn’t refuse.

“cmon!” she dragged him down in a hurry, “okay okay” he says falling down on the floor next to her as the sound of her giggles filled the air, him listening silently.

she turned to look at him, in which she she smiled up at him as he laid down next to her,

“hey”

“hi”

a few words could be spoken between you two yet he always felt so comfortable and used to your company.

“I don’t ever want to grow up” she suddenly admitted.

“why?” he asked suddenly curious of her unfamiliar change of mood and speech.

“because then you’ll be all grown and won’t want to hang out with me” she said jokingly yet her eyes seemed to express an almost worried expression. was she worried he would forget about her?

“you don’t have to worry about that.” he stated.

“why not?” her gaze suddenly turning towards him, the simple act of looking at him so innocently suddenly made his heart heavy,

“you can stay with me however long you’d like.” he says reverting his eyes fully towards her , looking at her straight in the eyes.

a moment that felt like forever passed before the sudden feeling of her lips were felt against his. he takes a few moments to process it before cupping her face gently pulling her into the kiss.

it wasn’t long before the heat between the two teenagers got heated, them both now retreated to the treehouse they built as kids that was near their previous snow angel spot, him now on top of her.

as they kissed he felt the warmth of her clothed cunt grinding against his knee that laid comfortably between her legs. he watches with a shaky breath before breaking the kiss.

“what’s wrong?” she asked trying to catch her break

“are you sure you want to do this?” he asked showing concern for any discomfort or second thoughts she might have.

“i’m sure megumi. I want my first time to be with you.” she said bringing a warm hand up to his cold cheek.

his hand travels down to your thigh as his breath hitches. he takes off his big jacket and puts it beneath her on the floor to make things more comfortable for you.

she began to strip in front of him, his gaze never leaving her eyes before she finally finish, allowing him to avert his eyes down her body, thinking that if perfection was anyone, it would be her.

he trailed soft loving kisses down your body, admiring and touching you like you were art, a beauty that should be praised and admired.

he felt that in that moment, nothing else had mattered. it was only you and him.

afterwards you two were left next to each other comfortably as he held you in his arms, an act he dreamed of doing for the longest.

“what you were saying earlier, i wanted to tell you that you don’t have to worry about me forgetting you because i will spend the rest of my life by your side.” he said feeling confident in finally exposing his true feelings towards you.

you took a few moments before you gave him a soft smile, “thank you megumi, i couldn’t ask for a better friend.”

friend

friend?

friend.

his heart dropped, he felt as if it had been stomped on. after taking her virginity just moments ago, after spending years by your side, as you laughed, cried, sobbed, smiled, it felt like a brick was just brought down on his heart.

THE PRESENT:

Megumi is brought back to the present after reliving the memory in his head. he’s now aware of his surroundings, wondering how he could be so close to you, holding hands with someone would be considered such an intimate act yet he felt so far away from you. As if he could never, would never break that infinite barrier that separates the two of you. A world he could see but never enter. A wet painting he could see but never touch.

he’s interrupted by Suguru who suddenly walks outside causing you both to separate hands.

“They’re done talking and asking for you, id ask that you come inside if you will” He says in the calm voice he always kept.

When you both make your way inside and the mood has changed drastically, the air felt heavy as you now saw Satoru sitting silently across the table looking down, not saying a word nor acknowledging your presence at all.

“We have came to an arrangement in which you have two options.” Mr. Gojo speaks once again,

“As you know the Gojo is a class name and our reputation to the public is very important, it helps us keep our status and remain a good name. See now having the newspaper say ‘Gojo Clans’ and Tokyo’s beloved top neurosurgeon Satoru Gojo knocks up young intern’ doesn’t exactly hold up a good reputation, but ‘Satoru Gojo’s new fiancé seemed to have been getting quite busy with a baby on the way’ seems very more delightful.” He says making your eyes widen in shock of his words, he didn’t seriously think you would agree to marry Satoru, did he?

“and the other?” You ask considering your options.

“The other option is that you can get an abortion and we will pay you 5 million up front to keep your mouth shut and disappear from Satoru’s life, it will all be on the low.”

You felt trapped, abortion wasn’t an option. You chose to have this baby and you want to stick with that choice. Yet marrying Satoru felt like a nightmare, you never even considered marriage let alone with Satoru.

Before you could find the words to speak you hear Suguru speak up, “Listen Mr. and Mrs. Gojo, you guys are respectable people and I wouldn’t go against your beliefs but-“ He states before being interrupted by Satoru’s mother.

“So then don’t.” She bluntly says, glaring at him.

He stops for a moment before starting up again, “I believe this is a decision she needs to make on her own and is something her and Satoru should talk over, they are both young and no offense but times are different now and i don’t believe marriage is necessary as Ms. Y/n is only 2 months in her term, a lot can happen from now to then.” he waited for a response,

“Suguru Geto, you’re parents would agree with this just as much and you know that. This simply will be for business, If some skank decided to get my son into this situation then she should learn the consequences” Satoru’s fathed spoke.

Suguru takes a few moments trying to collect himself the best he can, you began to become nervous not knowing how to answer mumbling a bit trying to stutter out an answer before Suguru interrupts you,

“Don’t worry about it y/n, I believe their stay here has been extended, I would kindly ask you two to leave” He says getting up to get ready to greet them out as the Gojo’s agree, leading themselves out before his father stops.

He places a hand on Satoru’s shoulder trying to say goodbye in his own way before Satoru pulled away from his hand.

“Don’t act out son. You’re lucky we aren’t doing to her what we did to your last girlfriend.” He finishes and makes his way out the door.

Megumi stands silently for a few moments before seeing his way out, waving you a goodbye before heading out. His phone dialing a number waiting for a number to answer.

“Hello?”

“Hey, I need you to pick me up” Megumi speaks from over the phone.

“Sure! is everything alright fushiguro?”

“Yeah…” He stays silent for a few moments thinking, “Actually, are you free tonight?” He asks

“Yeah! why?”

“I was wondering if you’d like to get some drinks”

“Sure! Should i invite everyone?”

“I think i’d like it if it were just me and you.” Megumi says suddenly feeling a little nervous.

“Okay if you say so!”

“Okay, i’ll see you then…thanks itadori.” He says before hanging up.

-

Satoru and you sat in silence for a few minutes, crossing your arms waiting for a response out of him. After a while you realize he just wasn’t gonna say anything so you finally speak, letting anger take over you,

“What the fuck, Satoru.”

He looks up at you but doesn’t respond, he just stares emotionless at you.

“Don’t just sit there! Say something! you couldn’t even say anything while they were sitting there calling me a skank and whore all night, so please enlighten me with your fucking words.” You feel tears trying to make their way out of your eyes but you wont let them.

He pauses before looking back down at his lap, “Are you sure you want to keep our baby”

You huff in disbelief of his words, there’s no way he could seriously be considering that.

“What, are you having second thoughts? having second thoughts now at the thought of marrying me? You aren’t scared of becoming a father but you’re scared of the thought of marrying me, god fuck satoru!” You shouted at him feelings tears fall down your face.

He doesn’t say anything before excusing himself from the table as he walked into his office, locking the door behind him.

Suguru walks in to you with your hands on your knees as you quietly sobbed on the floor, he rushes towards you pulling his arms over you in a hug as tears spilled even more.

You look up at him with teary eyes as he cups your face gently pulling you into him. You try to form words but they don’t come out and Suguru notices this as he spoke gentle words, “It’s okay, I know.” His words came out softly against your ear as he held you.

Your gaze turns towards him, looking up at him as you stare at each other for what felt like forever before you did the unspeakable.

You kissed him.

You hadn’t known why you did so, in the moment it felt so right. And with that, he returned it, he kissed you back passionately before the maid walked in, her stepping back trying to pretend she didn’t see anything before Suguru pulls away.

“Let’s take you to bed, a lot has happened today. I think we all need rest tonight.” He says helping you up offering you a kind smile as he helped you walk to your room.

He leads you to your room before letting you enter yourself before wishing you goodnight as he looked away.

The kiss you shared just before had felt so right yet somehow now things felt so awkward as you laid in bed silently as you thought over the fact that you kissed Suguru in the middle of a breakdown which now made you feel a bit embarrassed.

You began to shut your eyes, choosing not to dwell on it too much as you already had a long night deciding to try and get rest.

Or atleast you try to do before you hear the door open, you figure it may be the maid who forgot something in your room as it’s happened before, an honest mistake so you carry on with your sleep, keeping your eyes shut.

That is until you hear someone sit on the bed next to you placing a hand on your hair, brushing it gently. You don’t dare to make a sound or look who it is, you figured it may have still been the maid checking on you.

A careful arm hugs over your body barely before hearing a whisper “I’m sorry.” the familiar voice of Satoru Gojo fills your ears as you still pretend to be asleep. He presses a soft kiss to your stomach before leaving the room.

The room suddenly felt empty, cold. The interaction was so short, so little yet you found yourself missing the warmth of his hand against your stomach.

.

.

.

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ─── ─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ─── ─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───

A/N. this chapter has by far been my favorite one i’ve written, and the fastest yet longest one i’ve written so far. (I spent my whole thanksgiving righting this up LMAO, who needs to cook a turkey when I can cook up a new SGW chapter!!) I already had an idea for this chapter knowing that i wanted this to be the chapter where reader meets Satoru’s parents and their marriage would be arranged but I changed a lot of things and I honestly like how it turned out. I hope you all enjoy and Reblogs and Asks are appreciated! happy holidays luvs <3

let me know if you guys would like to be added to the tag list for ‘Shotgun Wedding’ updates!

tags: @jeannieboys @maskedpacific @muimuiwisteria @baileebear

[tacticaldiary]

just found ur account, u post some rly awesome stuff. i was just wondering if you could write a fic for either the 141’s ghost or price in an established relationship with the reader and they forgot the readers birthday?

Forget Me Not

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Hurt No Comfort

Simon's a sharp man. He can't afford to be anything less, lest he ends up with a bullet in his back but it's most often the more mundane and meaningful things that slip his mind. Her birthday, for example.

Masterlist

There wasn't an expectation to go all out for every little celebration in their lives. Both Simon and her were relatively quiet people, preferring to keep celebrations more intimate between them. A small gift for an anniversary, a walk along the beach. It was the little things that were the most special to her, they showed her that grandeur and big gestures weren't the only means of expressing love so deep and devoted.

But never had it come to one of them completely withdrawing.

Their birthday were a slightly more lively affair, having more people involved. Simon, of course, was not particularly fond of having his own but hers? In the past he'd arranged surprises for her on the day, whether that be contacting her family and friends or pulling her out of bed in the morning with breakfast he'd made just for her.

It's why it's so surprising to see him go about his morning like a completely normal day.

He'd kissed her in the morning, no different than how he does every day, went about the house gathering his gear for work that day. Nothing special, just a debrief he needed to attend in the afternoon.

"You'll be going in today?" She asks, unable to keep the slight frown off her face. Her coffee cup is set on the counter with a small 'clink.'

He nods, leaning down to lace up his boots. "Got a debrief at noon. Johnny's been yapping our ears off about a new bar he found so I've no doubt he'll find a way to drag everybody there afterwards." He rolls his eyes but she can tell it's in a fond way.

As disinterested as Ghost might act, she knows he's fond of his team.

Ghost nods, straightening up once he's done with his boots. "Don't wait up for me. Might be a while till I'm back." She watches, a little stunned as he leans down to press a kiss to her forehead before hitching his bag over his shoulder.

Oh.

She didn't think he'd...forget.

"Are you sure you're not forgetting something?" She asks half thinking he's playing some sort of joke on her. He couldn't have forgotten...right? Simon was normally so good with these things. He'd never forgotten before. "Something else that's today? Something important, maybe?"

He gives her a blank look, coming to a stop next to her. "Nothing important enough to remember." He responds, pulling out his keys.

She knows he doesn't mean it like it sounds to her, but that doesn't stop the pang of sudden hurt. Nothing worth remembering?

He was probably trying to be funny with that dry humour of his, but after waking up to him already out of bed, excited to spend the day with him, finding out he'd be going to spend some time in some bar instead of with her today...

It really does sting.

She knows she could call out to him, just tell him that it's her birthday today, but part of her just...doesn't want to. If it wasn't worth remembering, maybe she should celebrate by herself this year...

He calls out a goodbye. The front door opens. Shuts close behind him.

Silence.

She draws in a long, slightly shaky breath and picks up her coffee mug, willing the stinging in her eyes to recede.

                                 · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Simon's had a pretty smooth day so far, which is something that almost never happens. The debrief went smoothly confirming that the Russian intel they'd spotted the other day had been solid enough to warrant the extraction op the team was to take in two weeks time. The bar Johnny had been so eager to show them hadn't been half bad either.

The decor was old 80's themed, a nice polished mahogany bar spanning the entire length of a wall. Ghost had taken to sitting down with a whiskey, watching Price and Gaz play pool while making idle conversation with Johnny sat by his side.

Well, 'conversation' was a generous word. It was mostly Johnny doing the talking with him answering every now and then, or chiming in with a hum to show he was still listening.

"I'm surprised your still hear, you know." Johnny says, shaking his head as he takes another sip of his drink.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Had a fight with the missus?" Gaz's voice joins in, the other two having wrapped up their game. He orders a drink for himself before sliding into the stool next to Ghost. "Got to agree with Soap on this one. I'm bloody surprised you're in deep enough shit to spend the night here instead."

Ghost stares at them like they're stupid. Maybe they are, because neither of them are making a lick of sense to him.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" He drains the last of his whiskey, not missing the look exchanged by the other two men.

"Mate-" Gaz says incredulously.

"Nah, he's not that daft." Soap cuts him off. "He's just fucking with ya."

Gaz narrows his eyes at Ghost. "I don't think he is."

"He's gotta be. Everyone knows-"

"Will either of you spit it out?" He sets his glass down on the table with a little more force than necessary.

"Bloody hell, you did forget." Gaz whispers. "Oh, you're a dead man." Soap recognising the frustrated twitch of Ghost's hand decided to blurt it out before hands get thrown.

"It's your lass' birthday today." Soap says. "Don't tell me ya forgot."

Ghost go through a rush of feelings all at once.

First in disbelief. He's not stupid, of course he'd remember something as simple as a birthday, especially hers. The second is doubt, because the look on Gaz's face is one so full of pity it makes him uncomfortable.

Ghost pulls out his phone to check the date and...

Shit.

The third feeling is disbelief. There's no way he just forgot. Someone must be fucking with him.

"Are you sure you're not forgetting something?"

"Nothing important enough to remember."

The barstool scrapes as dread and guilt twist his gut. Grabbing his coat, he makes for the door without another word, cussing out Johnny for the cackle he laughs behind his back as he leaves in more of a hurry than anyone's ever seen him.

8pm. He'd spent the entire day taking the piss with the guys on the one day that should have been dedicated to her.

He'd been away for so long, arriving home only a few days ago and he'd just...left her again. Granted, those few days being so busy had been out of his control but still. That wasn't an excuse, he decides, turning on the car.

He hadn't been busy today, and had had the time to go back home to her after his debriefing.

His hands tighten around the steering wheel.

                                 · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Her earrings glint under the light of their bedroom. Staring at herself in the vanity, admiring the gorgeous dress her friend had gifted her for today, she can't help but feel a lack of excitement for the upcoming night.

Simon has really forgotten. She'd come to terms with it a couple hours ago when the sun had finally set and she'd realised that it wasn't a joke. He'd really, truly forgotten.

Going out partying hadn't been the plan at all, but when he friends had come over to give her a hug and presents, they'd seen her upset, still in her house clothes and decided it was completely unacceptable for her to spend the day like that.

Ushered into getting ready, they'd made plans to meet at this new upscale fancy restaurant before hitting a few clubs on the way back home.

Better than nothing, she reminds herself, chasing away thoughts of what her night might have looked like if Simon had stayed. No time for sulking, this was supposed to be a happy day. She was supposed to be happy.

So why does she feel tears sting at her eyes when she reaches for her purse to check if she has everything? Blinking them away, she takes a second to compose herself.

The key jingle in the lock, the sound echoing from the hallway into their bedroom. She tenses in surprise. Was he home?

Hope blooms in her chest. If Simon was home, maybe he did remember? Maybe he came home early to-

No.

No that wasn't right, she chides herself, smile slipping off her face. Even if he did remember now, that's not an excuse for forgetting the rest of the entire day, for leaving her feeling so shitty and going off to drink with the others.

Straightening her spine, she takes a deep breath and heads for the door. Her feet take her halfway down the hall before the front door flies open on its own, baring the man in question.

His knuckles are white with how hard he's gripping his keys, and some of the tension in his shoulders relaxes when he lays eyes on her. Something akin to relief, as if he might have thought she wouldn't be there when he got home.

"I-"

"Early night?" She straightens out her dress, feeling his eyes on her. He's quiet for a beat, assessing the situation before acting. Ever the soldier. "Mine's just starting." Her voice is as even as she can make it.

Simon shuts the door behind him. "I didn't realise-"

"That's right." He doesn't get to speak right now, doesn't get to fill her mind with pretty apologies and promises. Not this time, not tonight. "You forgot, Simon." A flash of guilt in his eyes makes her feel a pang in her chest she refuses to let take the reigns. "You forgot." She wavers for a moment, clears her throat to regain some control. "Nothing important enough to remember, right?"

It's a punch to the gut, hearing his words thrown back at him with the knowledge of how she interpreted them. His jaw clenches, frustrated at himself for letting something like this slip by him. "I'm going to make it up to you, yeah? Just let me-"

"No thanks." She shakes her head.

"Just let me finish," He narrows his eyes, a little irked at being cut off over and over again.

"No, Ghost." The way he tenses at his name being abandoned for his callsign is proof enough of how he's fucked up. "I don't want to hear it, alright?" She swallows. "I don't want to hear any of it, I'm going out, I'm going to have a good time on my goddamn birthday with my friends, and I'm not going to let you make me cry before I leave."

Cry? It's then that he notices how red her eyes are. Guilt slams into him hard enough to wind him, it worms it's way through his chest and eats him alive, gnawing on the little parts of his heart that haven't gotten calloused.

The first thing he notices when he walked in was how gorgeous she looked. Standing there in front of him in that dress, he's well familiar with most of her clothes, having been the one taking them off at the end of the day, but this one he hasn't ever seen before and it hugs her just right, enough to make his mind blank for a moment when he first walked in.

But he understands. Ghost sees the way she's clutching onto that purse of hers, the way her knuckles are white and the slight shake of her shoulders.

She's trying not to cry.

Because of him.

Fucking hell, that hurts. But not as much as what he's made her feel. Simon wants to argue, wants to tug her close and make it all better, but he sees that she means it, and hell does she deserve to have a good time after the way her morning went.

Simon steps aside with a tight nod.

Letting out what almost is a small, shaky sigh of relief, she brushes past him on the way out and Simon really doesn't have enough self control, because his hand wraps around her elbow to halt her in her tracks.

"I'm sorry, love." He says, so gently, so quiet. Such a stark difference to how he usually is. "I really am. And I will make it up to you, yeah? I promise."

A tight knot forms in her throat, threatening to send a fresh wave of tears at her conflicted feelings. It's all she can do to give him the barest of nods, avoiding his eyes.

"Don't wait up for me. Might be a while till I'm back." She echoes his words from the morning back to him before she shakes off his grip and leaves him alone.

An empty house, a mind full of buzzing remorse.

Requests Are Open! Reblog, Reply and Like!

(11/07/2023)

[boughkeeping]

That Itoshi Sae!

"you're a pain in the ass"

"I'm YOUR pain in the ass"

Itoshi Sae x fem!reader enemies to lovers but it's actually one sided :p high school au let's pretend he studied 💀 songfic

Listening to your currently favourite song Everybody's talks by Neon trees and walking hurriedly to your school, ball just smacked the back of your head almost making you tumble and instead of being greeted with an apology you got a simple "pass the ball"

♫I could hear the chit-chat

Take me to your love shack♫

"I'm telling you- if I wasn't in a hurry that day..." Your friend concerned at your current rising blood pressure gave you a playful pat on your back "okay calm down do you know his name?" You hissed "that's the issue, I don't I was in a hurry that time"

She sighed "Do you at least know what he looks like?" You bit your lower lip "of course! Pink or red head with ugly bangs" "I think the only one with that hair colour in our school is Itoshi Sae" "He's gonna get it- THAT ITOSHI SAE!" and that's exactly when someone coughed behind you.

A very familiar guy behind you two. "You......" do you call him a cunt? Asshole? Would it be too hyper for you to do so? "...have no manners!"

He simply put his pinky finger in his one ear and walked away squeezing himself between you two to make way.

♫ I'm a sorry sucker and this happens all the time

I found out that everybody talks ♫

You swore you don't want to see his face again but as if the fate and universe collaborated together to make sure nothing goes your way here you were with that Itoshi Sae cleaning the grassy grounds at the back of your school as a punishment for being late again.

He was too quiet, you disliked that. Because it prevented you from getting any reason to go off at him. "saysomethingsaysomethingsaysomething" you stared hard into his back profile as he was brooming away the leaves.

You didn't know but he felt goosebumps up his spine, he turned back to look at you with an eyebrow up a 'something the problem?' expression but you just looked away and pretended to ignore him.

After a good twenty seconds which wasn't even long you couldn't hold it in anymore, the incident embarrassed you, your airpods falling into the drain as the ball collided with your head. It all flashed in ur eyes again.

"hey." You called out, he didn't respond. "Is he for real?" "Hello?" You called out again but he didn't respond, you wondered if he was deaf. "Earth to Itoshi???" Still no response you walked with heavy steps and pulled him by his collar "Excuse me mister you're surely not deaf?"

"tch" he hissed, "Wow you're seriously gonna pretend nothing happened yesterday?" He dug his ear again "What happened?" He played dumb.

Seriously that Itoshi Sae....

♫Hey honey, you could be my drug

You could be my new prescription♫

This was severely getting out of hand now, your lunchbox just got knocked out by that Itoshi Sae again. Him and his dumb ball. You got up and marched towards him, all eyes on you two.

You grabbed his collar "See I don't know if you're doing this on purpose or not but get that stupid ball anywhere near me again and the consequences won't be good"

He dumbly tilted his head towards where your lunch had fallen down "oh?" Was all he uttered, "Is that all you have to say!? You have no manners do you!?"

He sighed and put his hand over yours to remove his collar from your grip "I'll treat you to lunch" normally you'd refuse but you were seriously hungry this day because you skipped breakfast, you could swear you saw a smirk for a split second on his face. You huffed and marched towards the canteen "I'm robbing your wallet dry by the way"

♫Hey sugar, show me all your love

All you're giving me is friction ♫

He didn't come to school for two weeks, probably busy with his football bla bla bla stuff you hated it even more, the fact he's actually almost professional at something.

But hey why are you suddenly reminded of that fool? Is it because you saw reddish brown roses on the way? "That Itoshi Sae....cabrón" you hissed as you got into the bus and then again as if fate wanted to tie you two together regardless of your wish,

he was right there in his seat at the corner.

All the seats were empty. You'd want to pick the seat farthest from his. He was sitting at the corner like a loner his earbuds were in, seems like he didn't notice you entered. It hit you, you could do the funniest thing right now.

You sat next to him with a stupid smirk on your face, but he paid no mind. In fact, he didn't even flinch. You waved your hand in front of him that's when he finally turned his head to you.

He didn't even say anything but the 'what do you want?' expression on his face was clear. "I came here to piss you off" you announced and he simply pointed his finger towards his earbuds and waved his hand, it gestured 'I can't hear you over my music'

You just gave a quick sigh and opened your phone, to turn your Bluetooth on but it hit you that your airpods were done for good, obviously because of the guy next to you right now, wait why is an earbuds open to connect on your screen?

You quickly plucked an earbud from his left ear and it was the first time he had an expression other than that dumb deadpan face, his eyes looked a little shocked.

You put that earbud on your ear and.....nothing was playing.

"Were you pretending to not hear me all this time?"

He looked away "yeah."

He looked away expecting you to be mad or start yelling already but instead for the first time his open left ear where you just snatched his earbud from was graced with a genuine laugh from you instead.

You connected your Bluetooth with his, "Seriously? You're so stupid....hah"

A music played, he usually doesn't listen to this type of song but he liked this one for some reason. Maybe because you played it? Or not who knows who cares.

♫Never thought I'd live to see the day (ooh-ah)

When everybody's words got in the way, oh!♫

The song was over and you got up, what surprised you was he grabbed your wrist, "My earbud" you slightly pulled out your tongue and removed your wrist from his grasp. "Not returning till you get me one, payback bye!"

♫I could hear the chit-chat♫

Take me to your love shack

The club meeting was over and being the vice president it was your job to close the classroom after putting the files in place, that's when you saw the magenta haired guy with the badly cut bangs stand firm and in a straight position behind one of the pillars.

"Sae? What are you doing h..." He put a finger over his mouth as his eyes moved toward his right, the teacher was there in a distance.

After a few seconds the teacher left. "You're bunking classes? Not so very academic weapon of you"

He relaxed his shoulders and crouched down "I don't even look at my report cards" you chuckled "You don't look at it because you know you're too good or because you know you're too cooked?"

He put a hand over his cheek and looked above at you, "What do you think?"

Fuck he was kind of cute "wait what?" You realised "what?" He asked.

You immediately gave a disgusted look at him and started to walk away "shut up!" He mumbled "I didn't even say anything..."

Unknown footsteps were heard and the both of you like scared deers looked at each other.

The teacher opened the door to be greeted by an empty classroom. "No one's there? I swear I heard... whatever" he left.

Now currently under the table "why are you hiding?" Sae asked. "You're right why am I hiding too?" You asked as well. "And you're the one who called me stupid..."

You laughed "If you were smart you would've realised I'm giving you company right now"

He looked at you with doubtful eyes "yeah right..." you defended yourself "Hey don't look at me with those eyes, you know what your eyes make up for your bad haircut"

"They're pretty"

The table was a little small and your heads were close, Sae too for some reason his demons told him let him be possessed.

♫It started with a whisper

And that was when I kissed her

And then she made my lips hurt♫

He put his hand over your chin and SMACK!

"ARE YOU CRAZY WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT TO SOMEONE YOU HATE" you immediately got up banging your head on the table, but recovering quicker than super glue you got up again and ran away.

♫Hey sugar, what you gotta say?♫

He didn't appear to school for three weeks again, you were worried he dropped out because of last time. 'haha no way he'd drop out because of something like that right?....right?'

You banged your head hard on the table concerning your friend beside you, in doing so something made a noise beneath your desk.

It was brand new box of airpods with a note

"Sorry and also,

I don't hate you. Never did."

You didn't need a name on the note to guess who it was, You got up immediately and shook your friend "Hey which class is Itoshi Sae in?"

♫It started with a whisper♫

He heard the heaviest footsteps of his life as he was leaving the class at last in the empty corridors. Turning around who else could it be if not you?

You were panting so hard your words were heard in a ghostly whisper "f...uck...the stairs agh hahah" you walked to him and slapped his shoulder very hard "I don't hate people who don't hate me either stupid"

He rubbed the place you slapped him at looking like a victim, you hissed "You're a sports kid you can take that much!"

He suddenly leaned into your face.

"So you don't hate me?"

"not anymore....but!"

"It's wrong to kiss people you hate?"

"...uh...yeah!"

"but now we don't hate each other anymore?"

"you're twisting my words now-"

"So I can't kiss you still?"

"That's not what it means... you're so insuffera-"

And that was when I kissed her♫

Already cut off with a kiss, but you didn't smack him this time, you gave in.

"You're a pain in the ass"

"I'm your pain in the ass"

And then she made my lips hurt♫

I could hear the chit-chat♫

"He looks happy today" you talked about Itoshi Sae that was walking towards you, your friend raised an eyebrow squinting her eyes "Huh? He looks the same what do you mean"

You opened your mouth "He clearly looks like he's in a good mood today" she couldn't believe you "he looks the same okay? Yeah sure only you can read him"

"Oh that Sae he's calling for me, see you later!" You hurriedly scurried to his side.

It doesn't take long for your friend to get hundreds of questions of the same kind "didn't they hate each other?" To which she simply responds "Would take one to know one"

♫Take me to your love shack

Mama's always gotta back-track

When everybody talks back♫

[lisacameron99]

Revelation S.R.

Summary: based on the Criminal Minds episode Revelation (2x15)

Y/N Hotcher (Little Hotch) x eventual Spencer Reid

Warnings: angst, Spencer being tortured, Tobias Henkel, usual Criminal Minds stuff?, swearing, reader/I being really angry at the world because she loves Spencer but won't admit it, friends to lovers, emotions, idk if I am missing anything

LONG AF AND NOT PROOFED

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Where’s Spencer?” I asked, looking around the farm. “And JJ?”

“I don’t know, come check out the barn with me and Prentiss.” Morgan told me. We made our way to the barn and when we opened it, JJ pointed her gun at us, eyes wild.

There was a lot of commotion with trying to get JJ to lower her gun. I noticed the dead dogs. Jezebel. Oh God.

“Tobias Henkel is the unsub.” JJ told us once she realized it was us.

“We know,” I said gently.

“We just thought he was a witness. I had to kill them.” She said referring to the dogs. I glanced at the dead animals again and rubbed my temples. “There’s nothing left.”

“JJ, where’s Spencer?” I asked her but she didn’t answer me.

“JJ, look at me,” Prentiss prompted. JJ focused on her. “Where’s Reid?”

“Oh, uh, we split up. He went around back.”

I ran back outside to tell Dad and Gideon that we found JJ but not Spencer.

"Dad,” I called, running up to him. “Dad, JJ was in the barn, but Spencer’s not.”

“We searched the rest of the property and the house and he’s not there either. Neither is Henkel.”

“So,” I gulped, looking at my dad. “So where’s Spencer?”

“I don’t know. But we will find him.” Dad promised me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was standing with JJ and Emily by the ambulance while they checked JJ out.

“Hey, any sign of him?” Prentiss asked Morgan and he shook his head.

"You can't find Reid?" JJ asked, confused.

"Not yet," Prentiss told her.

"Prentis, Little Hotch." Derek pulled us away from JJ. "I think Reid followed him into the cornfield, it looks likes somebody got dragged." I rubbed my temple, trying to push away the stress migraine that was impounding.

"Hey, what's going on?" Prentiss asked the officer who just got off the phone.

"The sheriff two towns over. He just gave directions to a man who fit Henkel's description. It's to a motor lodge in Fort Bend."

"Let's get Hotch and Gideon." Morgan said and I went back to JJ.

After hours of not finding Spencer, morning came which brought Penelope too.

"You know they do have hotels in Georgia." She told me and Aaron.

"There's no sense splitting time between here and a field office." He told her, ushering her into the house.

"Right." She agreed warily, looking around the property.

"Think of the house as a witness," He explained to her. "If it could talk, what would it tell us?"

"My guess is it would tell us to get the hell out." She responded.

We made our wait into the main living room and JJ greeted Penelope with, "Welcome to our nightmare."

"His computer is an extension of his brain," Gideon told her. "I need you to dissect it."

"I'll get you set up, come on." Derek told her, taking her to where the computers were at.

"I'll come with," I mumbled, walking past my dad and everybody else, to go with Penelope and Morgan.

The rest of our team filled Dad in on everything, but there was no evidence pointing where Spencer and the unsub could be.

"Okay, right out the gate, the guy is self taught." Penelope told us. "His mainframe is totally idiosyncratic, but it's pretty brilliant."

"Talk to me about what this son of a bitch watches online. What the hell is all of this?" Morgan told her, trying his best to figure out the computers and how we could use it to help us know Henkel better.

"It's tame stuff, video games, software sports. Seriously, if I had to guess whose system this belongs to, I would say a crazy smart high school kid."

"Well clearly it's not Penelope. Can you please find us something that will help us find Spencer?" I snapped before walking out the room and back outside.

I hated this. How could Spencer have gotten so far away so fast? Where the hell was he being held? Please God, I begged, please bring him back to me. Please. I hadn't prayed in years, especially with my mom and dad fighting, but I knew we had a slim chance at getting Spencer back, and God was probably the only person to bring him to me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hey guys!" Morgan called to us, I looked up at him from where I was sitting with Gideon on the steps. "I think I got something."

I ran over to where he was and he found a cellar.

I pulled out my gun as Morgan opened the door. "Tobias Henkel, FBI!" Dad and I followed him inside. We got our flashlights out and searched the ice cellar. "Tobias Henkel! Tobias!"

Dad moved closer to the unmoving body. "I think we just found Henkel's father." Well, shit.

We made our way out of the cellar and let CSI do their thing while we went back into the house.

"You need to get some sleep." Gideon told me and I rolled my eyes. "Sometimes it felt like I had two dads between Hotch and Gideon.

"I'm fine."

"When was the last time you slept?" JJ asked me.

"When was the last time for you?" I snapped back, my anger seeping through. I wanted to find Spencer. I wanted him back.

"Y/N, you need to get some sleep." Dad told me and I stomped my foot.

"Is that an order?" I demanded, looking my dad square in the face.

"Yeah, it is." He shot back and I threw my gun on the table, making JJ jump at the noise. I went into the living room and grabbed my blanket and my dad's pillow from the corner and laid on the floor to take a nap. There was no way in hell I was sleeping on any of the furniture here. After a few minutes, I felt JJ come sit by me, resting her back against the couch.

"I'm sorry." She muttered.

"I'm sorry too." I muttered back.

"I'm so stressed out that I can't sleep." She admitted after a few minutes.

"I can't either. I just want to find him." I relented.

"I saw you guys, at the club. You danced."

"Liquid courage fixes a lot of the world's problems. Sometimes."

"You guys would be cute together."

"You must be sleep deprived."

"I know what I saw at the club. You both like each other, you're practically dating anyways, why not just make it official?" And with that thought running through my brain, I fell asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Morgan just told me that he thinks the stressor is the father's death, which happened about six months ago." Dad told me and Gideon as we sifted through the papers.

"So basically he has split personality disorder?" I banged my head on the table.

"This journal is filled with religious ramblings." Morgan told us, coming into the room with the journal. "He notates hour by hour. November 15th, 3:17 - if ye offer a sacrifice of peace offering unto the Lord, ye shall offer it at your own will. And it goes on and on. 5:04, 7:41, 10:22, 1:42. But then it goes blank for days."

Morgan handed me the journal and I looked at it, getting a sense of who Henkel was. Dad put a hand on his head, thinking. "Maybe he got sick of writin'," The sheriff suggested.

"I think I got it," Dad said, and I looked at him hopefully.

"What is it?" Gideon asked him.

"Yeah, Dad, what did you figure out?"

"Journal entry - December 6th - father sick, wants me to put him down. I say, "Thou shalt not kill," He says, "Honor thy father." Must pray for guidance." Oh. So he killed his dad...

Before I could finish my thought, Gideon interrupted. "So he kills his father as an act of mercy?"

"Some sick sort of mercy." I muttered, flipping through the journal in my hand before giving it back to Morgan.

"This is two months ago. Tobias Henkel's father had been dead for four months already." Dad told us.

"That's exactly it. Look at the floor," Morgan told us, pulling a chair out for us to see. "These scuff marks are fresh." He was right, they were. "I mean it's like two people were moving the chairs constantly, trying to fight for control."

"So?" The sheriff asked.

"This journal matches Charles Henkel's handwriting, but it was written after he died. Upstairs, Tobias' bedroom - it's got junk puled from the floor to the ceiling, but the other bedroom could pass a military inspection." Morgan explained.

"So are you telling me, one of Tobias' personalities was his father?" The sheriff asked, trying to make sense of this situation.

"Well," Gideon put in, "Tobias was raised with a strict religious code - black and white - right and wrong. When his father asked Tobias to kill him, something had to give."

"And his brain couldn't handle the moral contradiction, so it split into two personalities." Dad said.

"To keep his father alive." I finished.

"So... who is Raphael?" The sheriff asked, confused.

"My guess - he's a mediator between the two. Angels have no human emotions. Live or die, they don't care, as long as it's God's will."

"We need to start profiling Tobias' father. He may be the one who chose where to take Reid."

"I'll get Penelope on it." I said, standing up and walking to the computer room.

"Pen, I need you to log into the system as Tobias' father."

"The system was set up three months ago. The dad was already dead."

"She knows that, smarty pants, but do it for your favorites anyway, alright?" Morgan said, coming in behind me.

"Okay," Penelope said, starting to type.

"Charles Henkel." Derek told her.

Tons of horrifying imagines and videos showed up on the screen. I closed my eyes and cracked my neck. This was going to be bad.

"Woah," Penelope said trying to take it all in.

"He's crazy." I mumbled. "Like crazy crazy. I can't imagine having split personalities, let alone, one of them be insane."

After a few minutes of Penelope trying to do her thing, the computers went blank.

"What happened?" Morgan asked her, confused.

She wasn't much help because she was equally confused. "I don't know?"

"What do you mean, you don't know?" I demanded, scared.

All of a sudden on most of the screens, Spencer showed up. He was bound to a chair beaten and bloodied.

"Oh my god." Penelope said, taking the words straight from my mouth.

"Guys! Guys!" Morgan shouted to the team. "Get in here!"

"He's been beaten." Prentiss said, assessing him.

"Can't you track him?" JJ asked, confused. I put a hand over my mouth, trying to remain composed.

"Henkel's only streaming this to his home computer." Penelope told them.

"This is for us, for Y/N, he knows we're here."

"I'm gonna put this guy's head on a stick." Morgan spat, angry.

"Why can't you locate him?" Dad asked Penelope.

"He's rerouting to a different I.P Address every thirty seconds. I can't track him."

"Can you really see inside men's minds?" Tobias asked Spencer. "See these vermin. Choose one to die. I'll let you choose one to live."

"No," I gasped at Spencer'svoice.

"I thought you wanted to be some kind of savior." Tobias said.

"You're a sadist ina psychotic break. You won't stop killing. Your word's not true." Spencer told him, trying to snap him out of the personality he was in. Tobias was either Raphael or his father at the moment.

"The other heathens are watching. That whore of yours, she's watching. Choose a sinner to die, and I'll say the name and address of the person to be saved."

"I won't choose who gets slaughtered and have you leave their remains behind like poacher." Playing into the fantasy. Good job, Spence, I thought.

"Can you really see into my mind, boy?" Tobias demanded lifting Spencer out of the chair. I gasped audibly, grabbing onto Gideon's arm. "Can you see I'm not a liar?" He yelled. "Choose one to die, and save a life. Otherwise, they're all dead."

"Alright," Spencer gave in, not wanting more people than necessary to die. "I'll choose who lives."

"They're all the same." Tobias spat at him.

"Far right screen." Spencer finally said.

"Marilyn David, 4913 Walnut Creed Road." Tobias said.

"You got that?" Dad asked Penelope.

"Yeah." She said, typing her fastest on the computer.

Gideon typed the phone number on a phone and it dialed.

"Hello?" The voice on the other end said.

"Marilyn David. My name is Jason Gideon. I'm with the FBI."

"What?" She said alarmed, Gideon told her to turn her computer off immediately and she did so.

"You're Raphael." Spencer said. Before anything else could happen, the screen went dark. Morgan walked out of the room, angry, and punched the door. I gripped JJ's hand hard, needing the contact to stay grounded.

"So now what? We wait for a 911 call, and hope we get there in time?" The sheriff asked.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the next victims were killed, Dad, Gideon and I went to the crime scene.

"Slaughtered, same as the others. We've got roadblocks for a fifteen mile radius. Every unit's on the road, but so far nothing." I pushed the stray hairs out of my face and looked at the crime scene.

"I don't know how much longer Reid can hold out," Dad said quietly, giving in to his fear that Spencer might not make it.

"Who were the victims?" Gideon asked, ignoring Dad.

"Pam and Mike Hayes. He was a local defense attorney."

"And what Bible passage was left?" Gideon asked another question. I went and stood next to him.

"Isaiah 59. No one calls for justice, "no one pleads their case with integrity. They rely on empty arguments, they utter lies they conceive trouble and give birth to evil."

Gideon got close to the camera, "Reid, if you're watching, you're not responsible for this. You understand me? He's perverting God to justify murder. You are strong than him. He cannot break you."

"We're not getting any closer." Dad told us.

"Reid's brilliant. He'll figure out how to survive." Gideon said, trying to reassure us, himself included.

"You know, I always take advantage of Reid for his brain, but I never actually teach him how to deal with things emotionally."

"Lead by example." Gideon responded.

"What kind of example is that?" Dad asked.

"He'll make it."

"He has to." I whispered. "He has to make it." God, I prayed. Bring him back to me. Please just bring him back to me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"We can trace their whole family history." Morgan said, looking at the evidence board we made up. "Here we got happy, smiling pictures of Tobias. Report cards all As and Bs, but as an eight year old, we get nothing."

"That's his mother leaving." Prentiss said from her spot next to me. "Six months later, on the other side of the board, we have a form from child services saying they paid a visit."

"Then Charles starts keeping journals about punishing sinners and needing to remove the devil from his son." I added. "Which corresponds to Tobias' drug use. He's trying to escape."

"So wherever Reid is, it was Tobias' choice, not this fathers." Morgan told us.

"How do you figure?" Prentiss asked him.

"Look at these two lives." Morgan pointed out. "They're like inverse graphs. One's getting weaker while the other one's getting angrier. Tobias would run away, his father would have stood and fought."

"Okay, so Tobias uses drugs as an escape. I'll go back through the journals with Y/N and see if we can find anything connecting his drug use to a hiding place."

"Uh, where's Gideon?" JJ asked walking into the room.

"He's upstairs. Why? What's going on?" Morgan asked her. JJ glanced at me before responding.

"Henkel's jut posted the latest murder."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We all gathered in the computer room to watch. It was horrific. Absolutely horrific. In everyway imaginable.

"I don't understand, why can't we just shut it down?" Gideon asked, pacing, confused by technology.

"Because I can't pinpoint his IPF." Penelope tried to explain.

"Just remove it once he sends it." Jason told her.

"It doesn't work like that." I said. "It's the internet."

"It's the internet, sir. Like Y/N said. Once something's out there, you can never take it back."

"It must remain. You can't undo anything."

"Right, you can't once it's up. Once it's up, it's up forever."

"I hate technology. Can you please do something? Anything? I do not want him thinking he has a pulpit."

"I have a list of everyone from the file-sharing chain. I could send out a mass warning that the video is actually a virus. I'm gonna do that. Okay." Penelope sent it out.

After a few moments, Tobias, as Charles, started streaming live again. "Do you think you can defy me?" Tobias said.

"I don't know what he's talking about." Spencer pleaded with him.

"You're a liar! You're pitiful! Just like my son. This ends now." I gasped when he pulled the gun on Spencer. "Confess your sins. Confess!" He hit Spencer in the face, making me cry out.

"I haven't don anything! Tobias, help me!" Spencer begged. I covered my mouth, tears streaming down my face.

"He can't help you. He's weak." Tobias, as Charles, said to him.

"Tobias!" Spencer cried.

"Confess your sins!" Tobias, as Charles, demanded again.

"Help!"

"Oh my god. He's killing him." Penelope said. I put the other hand over my mouth, trying to stifle my cries as Spencer started choking and the chair toppled over with him in it. He was dying. Actually dying.

Gideon stormed out and Dad, Prentiss, JJ and Morgan raced in. I hugged Dad tightly as Penelope explained what happened. Dad pulled away and went to get Gideon. I continued to silently cry. God, please, please save him. Let him come back to me. Please. I kept praying it over and over in my head, hoping He was listening.

Tobias came back into the room and started performing CPR on Spencer. Eventually after a few rounds, Spencer started coughing and breathing. I let out a strangled cry before clamping my mouth shut.

"Wait, wait a second." Prentiss said. "When was the last video posted?"

"9:23." Penelope responded.

"And - and what was the time of death?" She asked.

"The 911 call came in at 9:04 and the murder must have been moments later." Dad told her.

"That's only a 19 minute difference!" I said, looking over at JJ who nodded.

"How long would it take to post the mpeg?" Morgan asked Penelope.

"Two or three minutes." Penelope mumbled, guessing.

"Let's call it two." Morgan said.

"You figure a maximum of 60 miles an hour in a residential area." I piped up again. "That means Henkel has to be within a seventeen mile radius of the crime scene."

"Garcia, can we see it on a map?" Dad asked her and she did what he asked and pulled it up on the computer.

"Call Farrady." Gideon said. "I want that area locked down like it's martial law." JJ got up to go call him.

"Guys."

"You came back to life." Tobias said as Raphael.

"Raphael." Spencer said.

"There can only be one of two reasons." He declared.

"I was given CPR." Always with the science.

"There are no accidents. How many members are on your team?" Tobias, as Raphael, asked.

"Excluding me, seven."

"The seven angels who had the seven trumpets prepared themselves to sound. The first sounding followed hail and they were thrown down to earth."

"He thinks it's Revelation. The seven archangels versus the seven angels of death." Dad said, understanding the unsub.

"Tell me who you serve." Tobias, as Raphael, demanded. Pulling Spencer up to sitting.

"I serve you." Spencer croaked.

"Then choose one to die." My eyes widened in fear.

"What?" Spencer asked, confused, trying to stall and come up for time.

"Your team members - choose one to die." He repeated himself.

"Kill me." Spencer pleaded. What?

"You said you weren't one of them." He reminded Spencer.

"I lied."

"Your team has seven other members. Tell me who dies!"

"No!" I grabbed Dad's arm in a panic when he pulled a gun on Spencer. Dear God, please save him. Please save him. Please. Please Please.

He rolled the chamber of the gun. "Choose, and prove you'll do God's will."

"No." He clicked the gun. Dad used his free hand to cover his mouth.

"Choose." Tobias, as Raphael, demanded.

"I won't do it." Spencer told him, looking him square in the face. He shot again, but no bullet came out.

"Life is a choice."

"No." The gun clicked again. No bullet.

"Choose."

"I... I choose Aaron Hotchner." There was a moment of relief before Spencer started talking. "He's a classic narcissist. He think's he's better than everyone else on the team. Genesis 23:4. "Let him not deceive himself and trust in emptiness, vanity, falseness, and futility, for these shall be his recompense. In emptiness, vanity, falseness, and futility, for these shall be his recompense."

Tobias, as Raphael, took the bullet out of the camber. "For God's will." and put it back in and spun it.

We all walked out into the main room. "I'm not a narcissist." Dad said.

I looked at Gideon and then my dad. "Come on. Look. You can't take anything from that. He's not in his right mind, Hotch."

"Dad, he's trying to live." I pointed out.

"No. Stop. Stop." Dad said. "Alright, everybody right now - what's my worst quality?" Nobody said anything. "Okay, I'll start. I have no sense of humor."

"You're a bully." JJ said, referring to how he treats unsubs.

"I'm a bully," He agreed.

"You can be a drill sergeant sometimes." Morgan said.

"Right." Dad agreed.

"You don't trust women as much as men." Prentiss said.

Dad looked at me to say something but I shook my had. I wasn't going to say anything back about my dad.

"Okay, good." He relented. "I'm all of these things, but none of you said that I ever put myself above the team, because I don't ever."

"You don't, Dad." I agreed with him. Not sure where he was going with this, I indulged him nevertheless.

"I don't. Reid and I argued about the definition of classic narcissism, and he knew that I would remember that. And he also quoted Genesis chapter 23 verse 4." He picked up one of the many Bibles around the house and handed it to me. "Read it."

"I am a stranger and a sojourner with you. Give me property, forbear a place among you that I may burry my dead out of my sight." I read from the Bible.

"He wouldn't get it wrong unless it was on purpose." Dad scoffed, knowing that Spencer tricked Tobias/Charles/Raphael.

"He's in a cemetery." Morgan concluded.

"I don't see a cemetery." Prentiss said, looking a the map on Penelope's screen.

"Call up the first time we saw Reid." Gideon thought aloud. Penelope did what he asked. "I won't choose who gets slaughtered and have you leave their remains behind like a poacher."

"Check to see if there's any poaching in the last couple days." I demanded, pacing back and forth in the back of the room.

"Okay, uh." Penelope typed as fast as she could. "A farmer reported two sheep being slaughtered on his property."

"Where are we talking?" Morgan asked. She pulled it up on the map.

"What's that patch of green there?" JJ asked her.

I moved closer to the computer, wedging myself between Dad and Gideon.

"Marshall Parish. I think that it's an old plantation." Dad said.

"Wait." Prentiss said.

"Tobias wrote in his journals about staying clean and keeping away from the Marshall." My brain rapid fired.

"Guy's there's a cemetery on the grounds." Penelope told us.

We all rushed to the vehicles.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Spread out! They have to be on foot! Let's go!"

"Spencer!" I screamed. "Spencer! Spencer!" I screamed when I heard the gun shot. I ran towards the noise, everybody else right with me.

"You alright?" Dad asked Spencer after getting him on his feet. I stared at him blankly. He was here. He was alive. He was here.

"I knew you'd understand." He told Dad, hugging him before moving on to JJ.

"I am so sorry." She told him. I put my hands on my face and tried to remain calm. He was alive. He was alive. Thank you God. Thank you for bringing him back to me. Thank you.

"It's alright. It wasn't your fault."

"Let's get you out of here." Gideon said, reaching for Spencer. Spencer pushed away from him and into my arms. I burst into tears.

"I'm okay, you saved me." He mumbled into my hair. "I'm okay."

I clutched to him, holding onto him tightly. “Please don’t leave me again.” I begged. “Please.” I bagged my hands in his shirt.

“I won’t. I’m okay.” He repeated pulling away after a few minutes.

“Okay, let’s get you to an ambulance.” Gideon said again.

“Please - can I have a minutes alone?” Spencer asked.

“I’m not leaving you again.” I clutched his hand.

“I’ll just be a minute.” He squeezed. “Okay? Just a minute.”

Gideon pulled me away from Spencer, giving him a minute.

When Spencer caught back up to us, I held his hand again.

“Please don’t leave me.” I begged as we got to the ambulance.

“I won’t, I won’t leave you.” He promised me sitting in the back of the bus. I leaned my head on his shoulder, sighing at the nightmare this case was.

Part 2 coming soon!

[gaytrashgoblin]

Cute, Little Smile

Merry Pitchmas @ridiculously-over-obsessed!!! Little weird that we got each other Max, and we were both a little late this year??? We should be better friends, my dude. Anyhow, please enjoy this short and sweet lil bechloe fic I cooked up for ya!

Of all the things Beca has done, running seems to be the only constant in her life aside from music. Whether it be from some weird childhood trauma she hasn’t dealt with, her own emotional immaturity as a 19 year old, or what, she’s not sure, but she does know that she is phenomenal at it. I mean, just look at her- for the first time in her life she found a group of friends she felt she really connected with and the moment things got hard what did she do? Oh, right! She yelled at Jesse, who was admittedly on her side if a little misguided in his attempt to prove that, then quit the Bellas. After stewing in what was originally righteous indignation but then turned into regret, she really went for broke. Which is how she finds herself here, in her dad’s house, drinking coffee with him in his kitchen. 

“Yeah I shut everybody out, don’t take it personally, it’s just easier,” she says heavily. After a pause her father responded.

“It’s also really lonely.” With that, Beca flips through some of her memories since coming out to college. How, in the past few months, she’s felt really seen and validated in her hobbies and herself as a person. Like, maybe she doesn’t need to love movies the way everyone else does or change her appearance or be less brash or less… her to be worth someone’s time. She thinks about how movies really aren’t awful if you’re watching them with the right company who doesn’t shut you down for critiquing them. About how supportive her friends had been of her dream to produce music and how she supported her changing the setlist and how she- wait, she? Did she really bond with any of them except Chloe? Fat Amy was probably the closest to her, but that may have just been because she was just as on the fringes of Aubrey’s ideals as Beca was. 

Beca takes a few days to start looking at her time at Barden with a little more scrutiny because, really, was it just Chloe? That can’t be. She spent more time with Jesse than with Chloe! But… she did spend a lot of her time with him wishing she was with Chloe instead. Or, sometimes, even wishing he was Chloe instead. Particularly when he started throwing out those cheesy flirts and getting close to her face and… ah, shit. 

Beca walks into the practice room ready to swallow her pride. If not for herself and the fact that those girls were her friends and she would like them back, thank you very much, but for Chloe, who deserves the ICCA win. And, also, maybe some honesty, because Beca may be a newly discovered queer, but god damn if she doesn’t know it would be easy to treat Chloe better than that asshole she was dating at the start of the year. She didn’t quite know what to expect when she walked in, but it certainly wasn’t whatever the hell it was. 

Aubrey, Chloe, and Amy were wrestling, Lily was lying in a pool of vomit (extra gross, btw), and everyone else was in disarray. 

“I came to apologize,” Beca starts, holding what feels to her like prolific eye contact with Chloe. “What I did was a dick move, and I shouldn’t have left.” She sees Chloe’s eyes widen a little at that admission, which makes her feel more vulnerable than she already is, since Chloe is the only one who knows about her dad and all of that drama. She’s glad that she, or whatever happened here, convinced Aubrey to give changing the setlist a try. She’s also grateful that they are now free to leave the vomit smell of the auditorium- and leads them to the empty pool that they had the riff-off in. 

As much as she wants to have Chloe pick the song, she lets Aubrey do it, as something like an olive branch. Once more locking eyes with Chloe, Beca adds in the Neyo song, hoping beyond hope that maybe, just maybe, Chloe will get what she means and she won’t have to actually come out and say it. Because there is only so much vulnerability Beca can stand in any given time period, let alone all in one day. After they sing their mashup in the pool, she thinks Chloe might get it, based on the way she’s smiling that cute little smile she used to have for Tom-The-Shower-Guy, but nothing ever happens. Beca, admittedly, gets swept up in her new responsibility of arranging nine different girls and vocal ranges into some sort of coherent setlist with a dance, and so her newly recognized feelings kind of get put on the back burner. She had noticed though, that somewhere during the process of arranging the set, that something shifted for Chloe. Beca really couldn’t tell you what, but she decided that after the finals she would suck it up and confront her. 

After their, in Beca’s opinion, killer performance at the finals, she meets Jesse in the crowd. “I told you, he always gets the girl in the end,” he says with a smirk. Beca’s face contorts.

“Dude, what?” 

“Oh, c’mon Bec, don’t be coy. The song! You put that in for me, for us.” 

“Uh, yeah, as an apology for being a dick, not some weird love letter thing.” Jesse’s face falls, and Beca awkwardly makes her way back over to the Bellas. 

“What, no kiss for your new boy-toy?” Amy asks loudly. Again, Beca’s face contorts. 

“Uh, no. No boy-toy for me, thanks. I don’t like him like that, like, at all.” Several of the Bellas express their disbelief. Has everyone been under the impression that she liked him? Beca’s head snaps to look at Chloe, who looks equal parts confused and relieved. Knowing that they have some time while the judges score everything, Beca grabs Chloe’s hand and drags her out.

“What- where are we going?” 

“I need to talk to you,” is all the explanation Beca gives. CR looks smug as they walk out and holds a hand out to Denise, who groans and slides her the $10 they had bet on this.

“Bec- wait, what is it, what’s wrong?” 

“What’s wrong is that apparently everyone thought I liked Jesse! I mean, how old are we that a girl can’t be friends with a guy without it meaning I somehow want to fuck him?” Beca says exasperatedly as she finally drops Chloe’s hand as they reach a mostly empty hallway. Chloe’s arms cross over her chest.

“Well, I mean, he’s the only person you really hang out with besides the Bellas. What were we supposed to think?” 

“That he’s my friend!” She says, throwing her arms up. “I’m pretty sure I said it like, really loud before that he’s not my boyfriend.” 

“Ok, so he’s not your boyfriend. It’s not a big deal, Becs. I don’t get why you’re so upset over it.” 

“I’m upset because everyone somehow thinks I like him, including the person I have actual feelings for!” That makes them both pause. Beca, because she had planned on doing this in a better way. A more private way, but here we go. 

“Oh. I guess that would be upsetting, the person you like thinking you like someone else,” Chloe says quietly, placing her hand on Beca’s arm in support. “I’ll get the girls to drop it, so that the guy you like isn’t getting the wrong idea.” 

“There- Chlo, there is no guy.” 

“But- you said that… okay. So the… girl,” she says carefully, “won’t get the wrong idea then.” 

“I just need you to not have the wrong idea,” Beca mutters with her head down. Chloe freezes. 

“Did you just-”

“It’s you, Chloe. It’s always been you, I… I get that now. It took me quitting and having a conversation with my dad of all people but I- it’s you.” Chloe tilts Beca’s head up with a single finger, smiling that soft little smile again. Finally. 

“For real? You mean that?” 

“Course I do, Beale. You make me feel… special. Like I really matter.”

“You do, Bec. You matter so much. To your dad, to the Bellas… to me.” Unable to stop herself anymore, and getting what she believes to be a green light, Beca leans in and kisses her. She’s vindicated in the fact that the movies are, once again, full of shit. There are no “fireworks” or “explosions” when she kisses Chloe. There is just… happiness. True, unfiltered happiness. And from the big grin that Chloe has when they pull back, it must be the same for her. 

“We should probably get back in there before they announce our victory,” Beca mumbles. 

“In a minute, I’m kissing my girlfriend,” Chloe responds as she leans back in with that cute little smile that, now, is reserved for Beca.