#while dutch doesn’t have a word for that. we do have the word ‘it’ just not the possessive adjective

[tragedykery]

just remembered when I tried to translate the first chapter of the priory of the orange tree like a year and a half ago but gave up not even a quarter of the way through and tbh I get why it hasn’t been translated to dutch because even translating the title and making it sound Not Horrible is pretty much impossible

[cherry-leclerc]

star-crossed ☆ mv1

genre: angst, fluff, humor, lots of back and forth, smut

word count: 9.1k

Fixated, you and Max struggle to stay away from one another. All the while, everyone tries to convince you that it won't ever work out.

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+...penetrative sex, fingering

inspired by this !

cherry here!...as a wise person once told me: footnotes = crumbs. hope that helps!! enjoy :)

The table was long, practically going for miles, but not really—it was just your closest friends. They all converse with one another, talking about the upcoming season, the upcoming season, and oh, what’s that? The upcoming season. And you’ve had enough of it, he can tell, so he gently rubs his thumb over your hand, easing your nervous tick. 

White florals lay neatly on the wooden top, fairy lights hang up above your heads, and Frank Sinatra plays from your fiancé’s phone, connected to the Bluetooth. 

Pierre stands up firmly, clinking his glass with a spoon. When it doesn’t seem to get anyones attention, Alex lets out a loud whistle. Everyone’s heads turn. “Merde—finally. Well, first of all, welcome on behalf of the groom's best man!” Crickets. His smile drops. “I-Its me. I’m the best man.”

“More like Best Party Killer. Sit down,” Daniel yells, aiming a peony at his friend's head. 

The Frenchman swats it away, to which Kika glares as it hits her. He nervously chuckles, pecking her cheek, swiftly. “Comme je le disais…we’re here to celebrate two very important people. Can ya take a guess?”

“Why did you choose Pierre as your best man again?” you whisper to the twenty-six year old. He shrugs, hushing you once before his watercolor eyes flicker back to his friend. 

“Any more guesses?”

“Okay, thank you!” you yelp, standing up and motioning him down. “Thank you, Pierre, for saying a whole lot of nothing, really.”

The blue eyed boy silently pleads, hands pressed together in prayer. “Oui, oui, I’m done, I’m done.” A warm hand snakes to wrap around your wrist and you sigh, sitting back down onto his lap. He clears his throat. “I thought we could go around and…share some stories about the soon-to-be husband and wife. I’ll start.”

“Great,” Kika groans, massaging her temples. 

“September 4, 2022.”

-

Circuit Zandvoort—September 4, 2022 (Dutch Grand Prix)

“You said it would be warm!”

Lissie squeals when you reach out to pinch her forearm. “I said slightly warm. More so cool.” A harsh glare. She winces. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

Despite the evident goosebumps, you march your way over to the pen, awaiting your first interview. Lissie stands besides you, raising two thumbs up and a toothy grin. You got this! Your stomach churns as you fix your set up. She’s right, you’ve worked for this moment, day and night. You weren't going to mess up for any reas—

“Should I just come back later or…”

Blinking, your heart stops beating as your mouth runs completely dry. He looks around for his publicist who just sighs and starts tugging him away. 

And we’re here with Max Verstappen, Lissie hisses—assisists. Coughing loudly, you bring up the microphone to your lips. “Max Verstappen!” The RedBull driver turns back to face you, clearly puzzled. You cringe at your sudden outburst, but continue. “So nice to see you. Saw you had a magnificent drive.”

Blue eyes pierce basically through your soul. He smiles, shoulders relaxing, hands leaning against the barrier. “Yeah. We did have a lot of luck on our side today. Plenty.”

It wasn’t that hard to pick up from there, question after question being basically given to you, to which he answers with professional ease. His dimples even pop out with every punctuation, it makes your chest swell. You clear your throat, eyes flickering to your list that now narrows down to one last inquiry. 

“Everyone nowadays fears you, it seems like.” He laughs, rolling his eyes. “But I do have one question—how does it feel to be the villain in all of Formula One?”

His smile slips away. “Sorry?”

“Uh-oh,” Lissie mutters.

But you don’t catch onto it, his sudden defensive tone, his dark glare. Beaming like the sun on the earth, you nod. “Well you aren’t the most liked, per se. Often hated by others. Do you think your dominance has affected your relationship with the drivers on the grid?”

When you finally look up, you clearly notice his change in demeanor, and that makes you flinch. We should get going, his publicist squeaks, already pushing him away. Let’s not air that last question, thank you. 

Fiercely, you turn to face your friend. “I still had a minute left!”

“Why would you say that?” she screeches. “Why, why, why?”

You blink. “I’m lost. What did I do wrong?”

The brunette sighs, brown orbs analyzing the short clip. “You got on Max Verstappen’s bad side, that’s what.”

-

“Their relationship had started rather…rocky,” Pierre announces, swaying his hands back and forth for emphasis. “But don’t you worry! I. Fixed. Everything.”

-

“She really said that?” 

Max whips his head to Checo, then to Yuki, then to Pierre. Each wears a loopy smile. He scowls. “She’s new here, she must be—I’ve never seen her before. Who does she think she is?”

“A legend, that’s who,” the Frenchman retorts, almost high and mighty. 

Max takes a long sip of his energy drink before scoffing. “I don’t care if she’s royalty, I’m never willingly doing an interview with her ever again.”

A few hours have now rolled by and you’ve finally realized—you messed up. Here you go, basically painting him out to be the bad guy, when really, he’s just a strong driver. No one thinks he’s a villain, you think he’s a villain. 

“You think he’s going to protest against me? Get me fired? Boycott? Hates me?”

Lissie giggles, tidying up the equipment from the last round. “No. No. No. Maybe?”

Groaning, you hit your forehead over and over again with your clipboard before a sharp accent makes you stop. “Hello.”

“Oh! Hi!”

His lips stretch, then steps closer to you. “I’m Pierre—”

“I know who you are,” you cut him off. “It’s so nice to meet you. I’m—”

“New?”

Your cheeks burn up at his accuracy. “Yes?”

“I thought so,” he pronounced with a goofy grin. Annoyance builds up inside of you but hold back and bite your tongue. The Frenchman fixes his sunglasses that lay on the bridge of his nose. “So…I’m going to take the chance and say that what you asked wasn’t meant to hurt his feelings?”

You soften up quickly. “I hurt his feelings?”

A nose scrunch. “Let me backtrack; Max doesn’t have feelings, therefore there’s nothing to hurt, but he does hold killer grudges, so yeah.” He lifts the frames. “He doesn’t like you.”

“Lovely,” Lissie mumbles from her spot besides you. “Is there a way…we…can fix all this misunderstanding? Because that’s what this is! A misunderstanding!”

The Alpha Tauri driver clicks his tongue in deep thought. “There’s not much to do other than apologize. Explain yourselves, maybe? He’s very Old-Fashioned.”

“Okay, yes.” You scurry down the paddock. “I could do that! I could so do that.” 

“Other way!” he yells. Turning around, you see him pointing you down to the right. You giggle, nervously, and continue your sprint.

You catch him quite fast; his tall stature and blond hair are pretty easy to spot. “Hey—hi!” Gasping for air, you clutch onto your side. “H-hello. Again.”

His jaw ticks once, and in an eerie motion, a warm smile forms. You shudder. “Yes?”

“I just wanted to apologize about before. That was not the right thing to say, I am so sorry…please don’t demand for my release.”

A dark brow quirks up, looks around, then back down to you. “I’m not here to ruin your life, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

You sigh in relief. “God. Thank you, thank you, thank you.” 

Crouching down to you, he tilts his head to the side with a sly grin. “You’re very welcome, but that doesn’t mean I like you.”

Your breath hitches, shivers spreading like a wildfire. “Sorry?”

“Yeah.” He steps away. “You already said that.”

-

“He was a bit guarded. Definitely guarded.”

“Isn’t this supposed to make me look good?” your fiancé grunts, dark eyes narrowing down on the Frenchman. “You know what? Just sit down.”

Pierre smirks. “See? Guarded.”

-

Autodromo Nazionale Monza—September 11, 2022 (Italian Grand Prix)

“I’m not a quitter.”

“There we go!”

“But he makes me want to quit.” “Oh, well now we’re back to square one,” Pierre groans. “He’s being hard headed, that’s all. I’ll talk to him again, don’t worry.”

And he does. 

It happens during one of the worst moments in your life; you weren’t wearing makeup. 

“You look—”

“Hideous?” You blush. “Yeah, don’t even mention it.”

He swallows, digging his hands deep into his pockets. “I wanted to apologize… for the way I reacted. It was immature.”

“N-no, you had every right to be upset. I crossed the line and I’m sorry.”

Max nods, Adam’s Apple dancing up, then down. “Truce?” 

Staring down at his large hand, you smile and slip yours past it. “Truce.”

And as a rare occasion, his smile meets his eyes, crinkles and all. The RedBull driver disconnects first, then rubs his jaw once before signaling down to your wet hair. “Pool day, I see? Enjoying the benefits?”

With a cheesy look, you shrug. “It’s one way to relieve stress.”

“Yeah—and what’s another?”

His tone is sultry and irresistible, you can’t help but rip your gaze away. “Anything that brings thrill, I suppose.” A tick. “Whatever that may be.”

“And what if it’s something bad? Does that still count?”

You laugh, throwing your head back. The Dutchman’s lips wobble as a weak attempt to not smile. “You’re not a bad person, so yes.”

His tongue clicks. “Uh, I don't know. As I recall, you called me a villain?”

Groaning, you gently smack his chest. “Will you ever let it go?”

“Might take me a while…”

Just as you’re about to respond, your phone rings and you smile. “L-Lissie.”

 The blue eyed boy nods. “Are you going to be interviewing me from now on?”

“Ah—is my ban lifted?”

“Yes.”

You roll your eyes. “Then yes.” Strolling past him, you wave. “See you around. And put on some sunscreen. It’s good for you.”

-

“Where are you even going with any of this?” Lewis hollers from the end of the table, taking a sip of wine. “You’ve just been talking about yourself, not them.”

Pierre scowls. “I’m getting there!” He returns his attention to the couple, gleaming. “So, as you can imagine, once I weaseled my way in and fixed their problems—your welcome, by the way—a certain spark came through. It was clearly evident.”

-

Marina Bay Street Circuit—October 2, 2022 (Singapore Grand Prix)

“Nepo-Baby?”

You hum. “They all are.”

Lissie groans. “So how will I know which one?”

“Oh, you’ll know.” Squinting accusingly, the British girl sticks her tongue out before standing up, hands on her hips. She yawns. “I have to go find Will. Something about—whatever, you probably don’t even care.”

You giggle. “Nope. Have fun.”

Silence engulfs you as you close your eyes momentarily, pulling your coat over your chest. 

“Don’t you have to watch the race in order to report back on it? Ask questions?”

“Dude, I was just falling asleep…” You peek an eye open. “And yes. But it hasn’t started, so I'm clear.”

Max whistles, unimpressed. Falling down next to you on the fluffy couch, he places his hands over his stomach, closing his eyes, too. You try not to laugh and instead do the same. 

“Haven’t seen you around much.”

“Been hiding from you.”

“Seems like. Don’t do that.”

“Fine.” You grin, sitting up straight. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”

“Probably.”

You snicker, pink tongue poking from in between your teeth. The cold air makes you snuggle deeper into your wannabe-blanket and he can’t help but take occasional glances. Teeth chatter. “C’mon. I’ll walk you.”

“...and I turned and said, isn’t that Celine Dion?” Lissie waves her hands back and forth, swaying like a Fly Guy. She pouts, stopping her movements. “Turns out I was just really freaking high.” Will laughs, jotting down God knows what onto a piece of paper as she continues cluttering herself with an obnoxious amount of wires. The British girl huffs. “Y’know, sometimes I wonder if it was—” A sharp gasp. “Him? Oh my—it’s him!”

“Don’t you mean her?” Will hums from his spot, still not looking up.

But wide-eyed Lissie stares with her jaw on the floor as you and Max cross by, laughing and pushing each other as you make your way down the paddock. As soon as you blush when he winks, it becomes all the more real. The young reporter nods, curled hair bobbing up and down. 

“R-right—her.”

-

Autódromo José Carlos Pace—November 13, 2022 (Brazilian Grand Prix)

“Is he cute? Yeah, maybe.” A finger pinches her top lip before releasing. “In a weird way.”

“Hey,” you warn.

“Is he your type? Don’t know why, but yes. I could see why you’re into him.”

“Great…”

“But is he the right choice? No. Not at all.”

“...and fantastic.” Flopping down onto your towel, you groan. Suddenly the blazing sun wasn’t the worst feeling because Lissie was right. It’s unbearable, almost. You prop up, facing her with a scrunched nose and squinted eyes. “Don’t you think you’re being a bit too harsh?”

“Oh no.” A sip of coconut water. She purses her lips. “God no.” You sigh, slowly, then sprawl back down with a sour snarl. You can hear her debate; muttering, mumbling. Still, that doesn’t get rid of your bad mood. The brunette pokes your thigh gently, nibbling her bottom lip. “He’s just so—and you’re just so—” A beat. “I’m just looking out for you.”

“Yeah.” Waves crash harder. Sun beams brighter. You open up the bottle of sunscreen, spurting some onto your burnt legs. You rub briskly; up, down. She flinches. “Yeah, I know.”

-

“And for a while, that was that,” Pierre announces, feigning indifference. “No more love birds.”

“Oh,” George blurts. Dark brows pinch up, teasing smile playing out. “Then why are we here?”

“Oh God,” you groan, digging your face into the nape of the twenty-six year old. You can faintly sniff out his musk scent, clean and so him. It makes you smile like a teen. “What if we just elope?”

He chuckles, vibrating and sending you on your own personal rollercoaster. “We always can. Is that what you want?” And he asks because he knows—no. That’s not what you want. Separating yourself to peck his cheek, you shake your head with a playful pout. “No. That’s not what I want.” 

“Good.” Watercolor eyes flicker to where Pierre finally gets yanked down and Lissie takes over with a proud smile. “Because I think this is actually going somewhere.”

-

Bahrain International Circuit—-March 5, 2023 (Bahrain Grand Prix)

So you kept your distance, and oddly enough, he did too. For plenty of reasons. And it wasn’t even that hard, really. He spent his summer break traveling and you spent yours as a homebody. No texts, no calls, no nothing.

“Heads or tails?”

“Tails.”

A sly grin. The silver coins flips a couple rounds before jumping up and down, clapping. “Heads! Go on, Coffee Boy. Oh, and make it extra sweet.”

“You’re going to get a sugar high and not be able to sleep later.”

“Until I can feel my teeth rot,” you retort, slipping your tongue over your pearly whites. 

Answering a few emails, you perch onto a chair. It’s too stiff, so you twist and turn until you ultimately decide to just stand. A gust of wind salutes you as your orbs flicker up to the sudden shadow. A breath catches. 

Max tilts his head in greeting. “Working hard already?” Your lips part. “The season’s barely begun.”

And just like that, your world tilts on its axis, but this time with more to lose. 

-

“As your best friend—” Lissie points clumsily at Carmen who giggles while the British girl furrows her thick brows. She glances around before spotting you dying with laughter on your fiancé’s lap. She claps. “I knew straight away—he was the one for you.”

-

Miami International Autodrome—-May 7, 2023 (Miami Grand Prix)

“How long has this been going on for?” she hisses, disappointed eyes challenging both you and Max. She gags at the hickeys on your neck and his tousled hair. 

With wobbly legs, you take her hands into yours. “A week—”

“No.”

“Well, two—”

Green paints her face. “No.”

“One month,” he murmurs from his corner in the elevator. Watercolor eyes flicker up, loopy. “It’s been a month. Ever since—”

“Azerbaijan.” Shamefully, you look down at your shoes and nearly scream bloody murder when you spot your thong just a few steps behind her. “Ew, gross,” Lissie gasps, shutting her eyes in despair. Taking in the opportunity, you scatter down and retrieve the thin fabric. The Dutchman releases a laugh, but bites down when the British girl glares hard. She curls a brow at your breathless state. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Giggling nervously from your place on the floor, you keep your hands behind your back; out of sight, out of mind. “Begging for forgiveness?”

“Oh stop it, a piece of land is what I need in order to forgive you for being dumb as shit.”

You frown, but quickly stand up when she exits the elevator. You can hear him follow with a bored expression. “Lissie, wait!”

Like a spinning top, she turns back, long layers slapping her pink face. “You two know this isn’t a good idea, right?”

“Yes—”

“For a million different reasons—”

“I-I’m aware,” you stutter. 

“Then why did you do it?” she whispers. 

And the truth is, you don’t know. All you know is that nothing else matters when you're with him. It’s sickening how blindsighted you get. Anxious eyes twirl over to the blue eyed boy who shared the same expression despite being unbothered a few seconds ago. 

Licking your lips, you play with the fabric. “That’s it. We’re done.” You turn to the RedBull driver. “Tell her.”

“Done.”

For a moment, you almost let yourself flinch from how fast and easy he’s able to say that one word. Lissie’s judgmental eyes look at you, then him, then sighs, reluctantly nodding. An awkward moment ticks by and then she’s focused, appalled. 

“Are those your panties?”

-

“You were like a dog who couldn’t bear the idea of leaving its bone.” Everyone snickers while you throw the same peony Daniel had aimed at Pierre to shut him up. She laughs, raising her arms up in defense. “And I know—I know—I came in like a monster, warning you off of all the drivers because like it or not, they’re scumbags—” 

“Ey. Watch it,” Carlos deadpans from the corner, brown eyes playfully glaring. 

She shrugs. “But I no longer liked playing the role of an evil step-sister so…” Tears brim and you choke on a wet sob. “I’m just so happy that you’re happy.” A pause. “That you're both happy.”

Leaping off his thick lap, you rush over, embracing her. She laughs, returning the gesture. “I love you,” you start. I know. “And I’m so happy that you never—”

A knowing smile. “I’d do anything for you.” 

-

Circuit de Monaco—May 28, 2023 (Monaco Grand Prix)

Sneaking into his motorhome, you moan as soon as he gets his hands on your; sliding up and down your body with urgency. Heat radiates off of him and onto you. All of this— the cramped room, his lips attacking your neck—makes you dizzy. Clutching onto his sweaty hair, you arch, completely to him and for him. 

“We s-shouldn’t.” You gasp. Long fingers tease your aching pussy as you whine. He instantly slaps a large hand over your mouth as he continues his movements. The stretch burns, but it's fairly familiar that you don’t even cry out, just stare back with knitted brows and an open mouth that he can’t see, but can feel expand beneath his palm. 

“You’re probably right.” A steady stroke. “You should be out there.” His knuckles curl as he reaches your g-spot. “Preparing those foolish questions.” A muffled moan. “But you’re here, because you know that this excites you as much as it does me.”

Calloused pads push down before drawing figure eights deep inside. “You’ve been a bit uptight. Could it be—”

“No,” you cut him off. “Don’t even try and blame it on—”

“Fine, then answer me one thing; is this stress reliever a bad thing?” 

Feeling your orgasm rolling in is one thing, but your snarkiness is another. Gritting your teeth, you force him down to kiss you, teeth and all, and then rip away with a sultry smile. “Maybe, but who cares?”

You’re not completely off. At that moment in time, neither of you cared about the consequences. It’s just that as soon as a room of watchful eyes flicker to you two, you swallow a low wince. 

Grabbing your microphone, you fix your disheveled hair. Lissie’s eyes flicker between you and him, slow and scary. Like she’s reading right through you and your lies.

Beaming at the awaiting grid, you raise your chin up. “Who’s ready?”

-

“Finally,” Daniel yells, rolling his cuffed sleeves. “Someone with an actual story to tell.” A wide smile has never made you more nervous than at this very instant, so reasonably so, you swallow the entire glass of—

“Vodka, baby! That was my vodka—your champagne is right there.”

Blinking, you giggle, wiping your plump lips with the back of your hand. “What yours is mine, no? Isn’t that what marriage is all about?”

He chuckles. Lean arms wrap around your waist like a harness. “Keep this up and you’re not going to be able to sleep later.”

“The opposite, actually,” you state as a matter-of-fact. “Just need to get blackout drunk.”

He cocks his head to the side. “That’s not like you.” “...should have seen her! She was wasted as shit!” the Australian yelps, buzzing with excitement. You nip at the air all while he raises his voice an additional octave. “I found her there, at the bar, close to getting alcohol poisoning, but you know what they say—only drunks and children tell the truth.”

-

Red Bull Ring—July 2, 2023 (Austrian Grand Prix)

“Oui, the beer! Fucking amazing,” Pierre declares with a mouthful. 

“Say it, don’t spray it,” someone screeches, and is quickly identified to be Alex when he wipes his shimmery forehead. You laugh, taking baby sips from your drink. Shirley Temple, because contrary to belief, you weren’t a nasty drunk.

The Frenchman pouts, tapping his fingers against the brown glass. He turns to you with a sheepish grin. “I read your article.”

“Yeah?”

He nods. “Have to admit, it's kind of boring. It’s not your fault though. Max Verstappen's domination has made the sport sort of…” He pretends to wilt, to which you toss your head back with laughter. 

“Your time will come, Pierre, your time will come.”

“Shit, shit, shit! Bathroom!” Lissie’s long legs wobble like a plate of jello as you hurry over to catch her. 

“Crap—you smell like shit.”

The British girl squeals, yanking her hair, dancing from side to side. “I smoked a fat blunt, but never mind that, if I don’t find a loo in approximately five seconds, then I will smell like actual shit.”

A nose scrunch. “That’s not very lady-like.” She paces some more. “Let’s go.”

Meanwhile, on the other side of the crowded room, Max watches as the two journalists slip away. He keeps a close eye for a while until a certain brunette swoops in right next to him with a loopy grin and crinkly eyes. 

“You should talk to her. Seems like you really like her.”

“What? What makes you say that? What makes you think that?”

Daniel shrugs, rotating his blunt back into his mouth. “Dilation.”

The Dutchman gags. “What…like when a woman gives birth?”

A sore laugh. “As in your eyes.” Another hit. “Y’know…they just look—different. When you look at her, I mean.”

And he hopes it is not apparent that these words make him swallow. For the past year, he’s tried his best to hide his feelings for the sake of not making a fool out of himself, and later for a whole other, but…

He licks his sudden dry lips. “Hm. Doesn’t matter if my eyes fucking shine or not, she’s not my type.”

The Australian frowns. “Sucks. Lissie’s really cool.” His eyes flicker over to the RedBull driver in a nonchalant manner, but when he blinks back with rose tinted cheeks, despite not having a sip of alcohol, he chokes on his puff. “Oh shit, no…”

In a flash, Max yanks the blunt away, dipping it into an anonymous drink. “You’re right, she is so cool—”

Brown eyes narrow down in accusation, brows knitted sharply. “Right, but we’re not talking about Lissie…” A wince. “Mate, you can’t…you know you can’t.”

And just like that, Daniel notices the blown out pupils revert back to its original shape. Small and empty. “Yeah. Of course.” He plops back down onto his stiff seat, rubs his eyes, then smiles. “I know that. I-I-I was never going to—yeah.” 

-

“He—” Daniel points over to the broad twenty-six year old who sits with a timid smile. “...didn't have a single sip of beer that night because he was too focused looking after her.” A whistle. “And if that isn’t love, then I don’t know what is.”

“Wow, congrats,” George says to your fiancé. “For not being an alcoholic, really, that's impressive.” You can hear the humor that coats his voice and you can’t help but giggle. Calloused fingers slip up to pinch your thigh as you laugh harder. 

“That’s why I drank twice as much that day,” Pierre announces with a firm voice. “Because he was missing out on some fantastic beer.”

“Drunkard,” Alex whispers to Lily who stifles a snicker. 

The tall Australian clicks his tongue. “So who was the wasted one who confessed their little white lies?”

Everyone’s eyes turn to face you as you burn up with mortification.

“What the fuck, I barely even drink!”

-

Red Bull Ring—July 2, 2023 (Austrian Grand Prix)

“You.”

“Me?”

You snarl, stomping over. “She's a lightweight, dumbass. Why would you get her high? Jesus, we have a flight in eight hours.”

Daniel cackles, clapping as if delighted at the fact. “She kept insisting! I felt bad.”

An eye roll. “Douche.”

He tries to make it up to you with a drink. “Pierre says they’re good.” You eye the bottle hesitantly. He sighs. “Come on, trust me.” He eventually sneaks off for a minute, but returns with a new blunt. 

“Did you pull another one out of your ass or where did you get that from?”

“Oh no. How many did you drink?”

Squinting, you motion him to take a seat. He does, but he can’t even smoke in peace now that you sway from side to side, despite being seated. “I don’t know. Too many.” He groans, large hands tugging his hair. You take a long sip, then raise your glass like some wannabe. “He told me he loves me. Tonight. Right when you left. And you know what I told him?” Another sip. “I told him I love him too.”

The Australian chuckles. “I didn’t expect you to fall for someone like him.”

“Me either. But I fell—tumbled.” You frown. “I’m just not sure this is the right thing to feel, y’know?”

His orbs flicker to the twenty-six year old who huddles with a bunch of the other drivers. He smiles, tilting his head. “Why not?”

“Because everytime I look at him, I fear the way my heart beats. He laughs, I laugh, and it feels wrong. He smiles, I smile, and it feels wrong. He makes one of our inside jokes, I understand, and it feels wrong.” A shaky laugh. “And something that should feel fucking right, doesn’t.” Glossy eyes switch over to him. “Does that make sense?”

“Not really.” 

“Great,” you let out, wiping your tears away. “It’s fine, I didn’t expect you to understand.”

Daniel smiles, fondly, like an older brother. “It doesn’t, and you want to know why?”

“Why?”

A second passes by before he leans back against his chair. “Because it looks like you really—really—like him, so why should any of that matter? Just let yourself be happy, fuck everything else.”

You scoff, furrowing your brows. “You’re a bad influence.”

“Why?”

“Because it would never work out.”

“And why not? You’re giving up too eas—oh.” Almost robotically, he drops his blunt into your beer bottle. “You can’t…”

“Yeah. I know.” A pause. “Beer’s ass, by the way.”

-

Daniel taps his fingers against his chin, comedically. His orbs flicker between you two who stare up at him in deep focus, awaiting for his next words. He grins. “You two, it works. It always has.”

-

Circuit Zandvoort—August 27, 2023 (Dutch Grand Prix)

“Oh fuck,” he grunts, thrusting into you harder as you cling onto his arm, eyes screwed shut. “H-holy fucking—hell.”

You moan, mouth hung wide open. “Feel so good, Maxie, so, so good.”

Blue eyes admire the way you arch towards him like some sort of warm invitation. The way your legs lazily drape over his sweaty waist, how your scent hugs him like no one else. It’s all so familiar, and nice, and right. Your soft palm grazing his jaw makes him alert in an instant, desperate to not miss a single thing that lives inside this moment. 

He furrows his dark brows. “We-We’re not made for one another.”

“I know.” He grunts, animalistically. “They warned me about you.”

“They told me to stay away from you.” His tip brushes against your g-spot and your head lolls back, a loud sound. “But God, it’s been impossible.” 

“Max, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—I’m close.”

He grins, rubs your clit, and whimpers when he feels you reach your orgasm. You shudder when he follows soon after, face digging into the nape of your neck. Your heart pounds like a ticking time bomb, but still, you run your fingers through his dirty blond waves. 

“Lissie…Daniel…they’re—”

“Right?” You choke up. “Yeah, you don’t know how much I hate that they are.”

He pulls away, and somehow, his watercolor eyes appear more blue than ever before. Black, almost—nearly. And you’re sure yours do too. 

Max plays with your hair, tracing it like a map. He gulps. “So do I.” A tug. “I love you. Y-you weren’t some fuck buddy to me…you’ve always been more than that. And…I hate that too.”

A wet laugh. “I love you, too.” Wobbly smile. “And it’s because I love you that I know what comes after this.”

He hums. “What would that be?”

“Nothing.”

-

“I know many of you guys are wondering why I’m best man—”

“Not wondering, more like questioning,” Carlos quips with a sly smirk.

Pierre flips him off and you laugh at the immature interaction between the drivers. “Because it really could have easily been anyone else. Ha! Even you Carlos.” The Spaniard mocks him with a shady, playful, look. 

“Then again, who would have thrown a better rehearsal dinner for Charles and his bride-to-be?”

-

Circuit Zandvoort—September 4, 2022 (Dutch Grand Prix)

"You got on Max Verstappen’s bad side, that’s what."

“It’s probably nothing or he’s just a sensitive little pussy,” you shoot back defensively. 

Lissie snickers, hushing you, orbs scanning the pen. “You can’t say shit like that! Any of it, actually,” she adds. “Just…think before saying anything.”

You huff, arms crossed, stubbornly. “Fine.”

As the open area starts filling up more and more, by some miracle, your nerves start dying down.

Or so you thought.

“Before I let you go, I do have one more question.” Charles smiles down at you, shy dimples poking through. You return the gesture. “Would you consider yourself Ferrari’s savior or their scapegoat?”

“Jesus,” the British girl groans, covering her eyes with second-hand embarrassment. 

The Monegasque lets out a nervous laugh, turning to face his publicist who simply tippy toes and whispers something into his ear. He nods. “I-I-I actually have another interview set up, but thank you for your…questions.” Pink tints his ears as he looks at you one more time before strolling away.

“Alrighty then,” Lissie hollers. She sneaks the microphone away. “Jitters, totally normal, but yeah, you’re done for today.”

-

“I don’t care if she’s royalty, I’m never willingly doing an interview with her ever again.”

“Would you look at that?” Pierre gloats with a wicked grin. “Max Verstappen got butthurt.”

The Dutchman scoffs. “No, I did not. I just don’t like stupid questions, and she made one.”

Yuki snickers at his wary response. Pierre rolls his eyes. “I could talk to her, if you want me to. I love shit like this.”

“I don’t.”

“Well too bad, I’m going to.”

-

“Yeah. You already said that.”

Dumbfounded, you blink as he walks away, wet towel draped over his head. If you had known he was this much of a shithead, then you wouldn’t have bothered to try and apologize. Clicking your tongue, you burn with fury as you glare, but as soon as the Ferrari driver brushes past you, you fall back from your trance. 

“Hey!”

He turns, green eyes furrowed with confusion. “Hey.”

A wince. “I’m sorry about my ignorant question from earlier. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” 

Charles blushes. “Am I that easy to read?”

“No, but Pierre let me know.” You awkwardly kick your shoe against the pavement and his eyes follow. You stop. “I sort of pissed off two of the most important drivers on the grid today. You, uh, just happen to be one of them.”

He softens like ice cream on a hot summer day. “I’m not pissed.” You almost let out a giggle from how foreign his accent makes the curse sound. He stammers. “You just caught me off guard, that’s all. Plus, I can’t answer questions like those. It would make all of us look bad.”

“Oh. Duh. Of course.” Now you burn up. “I should have known. And it’s no excuse, but I’m new and I’m just…figuring it out.”

His eyes crinkle as he nods. “Who was the other driver?”

You groan. “Max.”

He winces, shaking his hands, theatrically. “Yikes. Yeah, now he’s probably pissed.”

-

Autodromo Nazionale Monza—September 11, 2022 (Italian Grand Prix)

 “Will you ever let it go?”

“Might take me a while…”

As soon as your phone dings, vibrating against your palm, he curls a brow. “L-Lissie,” you fill in with a subtle smile. “See you around. And put on some sunscreen. It’s good for you.”

Rushing back to the pool with a new bottle of SPF, you grin as he aims a deadpan expression. “A little Vitamin D is always necessary.”

“Don’t care, I don’t want to look like a peanut in two years.” You plop some onto his hand as he childishly swipes it over his face. You squirm with the way droplets slither down his toned chest.

Charles extends his hands. “Can I have some more?”

You laugh, wet hair tossing back like a curtain. “Hypocrite.” 

Green eyes glare down, playfully.

-

Marina Bay Street Circuit—October 2, 2022 (Singapore Grand Prix)

“I can’t believe someone’s rocking your boat,” Lissie yelps, clutching onto your hand desperately. “This is monumental.” A teasing giggle. “We should definitely document this.”

As soon as she pulls out her phone, you flip her off. “And this, my dear, dear friend, is why I’ve been keeping this a secret.” She zooms in as you laugh, brushing her away. “Quit!”

The British girl groans, slipping it into her back pocket, then wiggles her thick brows. “Can I guess who it is?”

“No.”

“It’ll be fun!”

You spin around. “No, Lissie—no.”

“Nepo-Baby?”

Flustered, you twirl your necklace and hum. “They all are.”

“Fucking hell. So how will I know which one?”

A mocking laugh. “Oh, you’ll know.”

The brunette stays wondering despite being in the middle of telling her story from last week at the pub. She traces back to every possible driver, but they’re all natural flirts, so fuck that, how would she ever even be able to guess that—

“Oh my—it’s him!” She gasps with hawk eyes as she watches you two keep a careful distance from one another, as if temptation burns within the gap. Lissie lets out a delirious laugh as she turns to Will, who is still rather focused on his task. “I, um, will be right back!”

Wearing a goofy smile, you make your way back to the pen, but squeal when a firm grip wraps around your waist, tugging you into a cramped bathroom. You cringe at the suffocated smell. On the other hand, Lissie jumps from corner to corner. “How did I not notice? I mean, shit, you’re eyes—they’re huge!”

You frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

With a toothy grin, she pokes your ribs. “It means I know who it is.”

Your heart stops, then bite the inside of your cheek, feigning indifference. “We’re just getting to know each other, but he’s really kind, and I…I really like him.”

“Oh, I bet you do,” she whispers in a seductive manner, jeweled hands slapping your ass. You chuckle, opening the door, and turning back. “You get lost in his eyes, don’t you? Heard that could happen.” A swoon. “So what? Are they like the ocean? Like a blueberry Laffy Taffy?”

“Hm. No. More like green apple.”

She halts, mid-shimmy. “What do you mean green? His eyes are blue. And I would know—they scare me half of the time.”

“What are you talking about? Charles’ eyes are green.” The brunette gapes, mouth hung wide open as she pushes herself to speak, but can’t find the strength. You knit your brows, neat and high. “I told you not to scroll through your phone at three a.m. anymore. See? Jet lag is catching up to you.”

-

Autódromo José Carlos Pace—November 13, 2022 (Brazilian Grand Prix)

“I’m just looking out for you.”

“Yeah, I know.” Tired eyes squint over at the blue waves, then at the kids who build sandcastles. 

She sighs, propping herself to face you with a sorrowful smile. “It’s okay to be confused about your feelings.”

“You don’t have to sugarcoat it, I know its as bad as it sounds.” You raise your straw onto your plump lips, sucking. “But they’re just so different from one another. I mean, Charles makes me feel giddy. Like really giddy. It’s nauseating. He’s sweet, and caring, and he's snappy but it’s endearing.” A soft smile and dreamy eyes. “He even helps with my notes.”

“But Max…he’s hot tempered. It drives me nuts. He never asks for help and always hides behind some brick wall. It isn’t like him to show me that he’s interested in getting to know me, but…” Cries ring through the hot air as a wave washes the sandcastle. “I want to get to know him. The real him.”

Lissie’s lips turn downwards at your broken tone. You act uninterested, but she knows it just for show, and that might be the worst torture of all. 

She bumps your head with her shoulder, softly, and you instantly pout. “You’ll know what to do, babe. But if we’re being realistic here, Charles won’t wait forever.” Pause. “And Max isn’t the kind to grovel for anything other than podiums.”

-

Bahrain International Circuit—March 5, 2023 (Bahrain Grand Prix)

“Heads! Go on, Coffee Boy. Oh, and make it extra sweet.”

Charles lets out a heavy sigh, shoulders drooping as he strolls away. You pick and choose emails to respond to before leaning against one leg, typing away fiercely. You even have time to get back to your sister who begs for a souvenir. Any, she adds with a thousand smiley faces. 

“Working hard already? The season’s barely begun.” Your breath catches so sharply that it hurts your throat for a second. His voice is somehow deeper, but it could be because you haven’t seen or heard from him in about forever. Max steps closer. “H-how was your summer break?”

Your berry lips open, then close, then repeat. It’s embarrassing. “Never bad to get ahead, and I—had a good one. Much needed.” He nods attentively. “You look—” You stop before admitting. “Healthy. You look really healthy”

A booming chuckle. “Thanks. You look really healthy, too.”

Blue eyes linger for a second too long and that fills you up with unwanted adrenaline. “Why are you here?” Pink expands through your cheekbones as you grimace. “I mean—here.” You point at the tiny tent as if it weren’t obvious what you were referring to. “Here, here.”

The Dutchman’s lips dance, fondly. “Well I was walking by, saw you, and wanted to say hi.” He looks around with a subtle frown. “Is now a bad time?”

“Well—”

“Mate,” a sweet accent rings through the air as you screw your eyes shut. Max turns to face Charles with a slow grin. The Monegasque tilts his head in greeting, hands occupied with your beverage and his. “How have you been?”

“So, so. Yourself?”

“Good. Refreshed.” 

“For me?” he jokes. The brunette chuckles, raising the coffee cups with bright orbs. “Lazy Carlos, always sending you, right?”

The Ferrari driver shakes his head, curls following, then hands it to you. You hesitantly take it from him as you avoid eye contact. “Thank you, Charles.”

His smile widens, pecking your lips. “Still don’t think you should drink it on a daily basis, but hey, you’re welcome.”

Max blinks. “W-when did this happen?”

The green eyed boy hums, lips twisting against his straw. “Over break.”

“Oh.” Gaze slips over to where you bite your cheek. “You spent it in Monaco?”

A harsh tick. “Yes.” With an open mouth, he nods, like a muppet. You purse your lips, facing your boyfriend with pleading eyes. “Do you want to start making your way over? I don’t want Carlos to say anything about being late. You know how he is.”

Charles snickers, then intertwines his fingers through yours. “See you on track?”

The RedBull driver released a low breath, cracking a smile that looked more like a snarl. And while Charles doesn’t notice it, you do. Of course you do.

“See you on track.”

-

Miami International Autodrome—May 7, 2023

“Then why did you do it?” she whispers. The judgment and confusion that radiates off of Lissie is enough for you to grow gray. She rolls her tongue. “You can’t be doing stuff like this anymore, you have a boyfriend.” Her eyes screw shut, then snap open. “He adores the ground you walk on, are you insane?”

Tears well up at her truthful words. They sting all at once, and you carelessly crumble as your numb lips start to wobble. “Lissie—”

“No. Just—stop. Stop talking.” Max raises his eyebrows at the journalist and her sternness, but feels bad as you inch back, heels clicking. She huffs, pacing the hall. When she comes to a stop, she glares at the Dutchman. “How could you do this, too?”

“I never meant any harm—”

“Bullshit! Both of you are so stupid, it’s worrisome.” Shame fills your veins as you look down, pinching your undergarment as some coping mechanism. The British girl sighs. “You have to tell him.”

“No.”

“What do you mean no? He deserves to know.”

Decreasing the gap between you two, you sniffle, shaky hands clutching harder. “It’s going to kill him, Lissie. I can’t do that.”

And you can tell she’s running through her options because she’s your best friend. And above all, you were hers. With hesitance, she nods. “This has to end.”

You nod, desperately. “That’s it. We’re done.”

-

Circuit de Monaco—May 28, 2023 (Monaco Grand Prix)

“You’ve been a bit uptight. Could it be Charles that’s making you feel that way?”

“No. Don’t even try and blame it on him.”

He pinches your nipple, then licks your humid skin. You whine at the sensation. “You’re not getting anything in return for lying. It’s pathetic.”

You hiss when your climax tempts to fall. “What's the lie?”

“That you love him.”

“I do love him—”

He groans into your neck. “You sound so pretty.” A sloppy thrust. “When you choke around my cock, my spit, my cum.” Your eyes roll back when he pushes against your g-spot at a different angle. “Admit it, you’ve always enjoyed it.”

“You’re sick."

“Maybe, but you’re well worth it.” 

You clench around his length and he hisses like a snake. In pain. In lust. Doesn’t matter. “You’re a shitty friend—”

Jaw clenches. “You’re a shitty girlfriend.” When you cry out in pleasure, he smirks. “Fine, then answer me one thing; is this stress reliever a bad thing?” 

“Maybe, but who cares?” 

And there's nothing left for him to do, simply smiling down at you like the Cheshire Cat, somehow scarier than The Joker. If not more. 

-

Red Bull Ring—July 2, 2023 (Austrian Grand Prix)

“Right, but we’re not talking about Lissie. Mate, you can’t…you know you can’t.” Daniel grimaces. “She’s taken.”

“I know,” Max stutters. “Who do you take me for?”

The Australian is easy to tell when he laughs genuinely, but even the RedBull driver can spot the difference to the one exiting his mouth right now. “You think she’s pretty—that’s all.”

“That’s all,” he confirms. 

“And that’s not a weird thing to admit because she is a pretty girl,” the brunette tries to help as Max nods happily. 

“Exactly.” A pause. “You get it.”

Daniel brings the blunt up to his mouth, taking a hit, then blows out. “Y-yeah…because it’d be bad if you liked her, liked her.” 

“I know that. I-I-I was never going to—yeah.” His heart pounds fast against his ribs when you giggle, pecking Charles’s neck, all while conversing with Lissie, Kika, and Pierre. He directs his attention back to the Australian and lets out a raw laugh. 

“I wouldn’t be that stupid.”

-

“You’re a bad influence.”

“Why?”

“Because it would never work out.”

“And why not? You’re giving up too eas—oh.” In an instant, his brown eyes follow yours, and it makes his heart drop. Because it’s not Charles that you’ve suddenly realized that you love, but Max. “You can’t…” Somewhere close by, Pierre yells, cheering with a group of older ladies as Kika glares, shaking her head. He inches closer. “You can’t do that to Charles. He loves you.”

“And I love him,” you announce, brushing your hair back. Timidly, you peek over at him. “I’m not a saint, I know that, but I would appreciate it if we kept this between us.” A sore chuckle. “W-what matters is that I choose Charles. He’s the love of my life.”

And Daniel knows he probably shouldn’t agree to any of this, and yet, he finds himself nodding, curls bouncing. “Just between us.”

You smile gently, going in for another sip before laughing at the blunt that sticks inside. 

 “Beer’s ass, by the way.”

-

Circuit Zandvoort—August 27, 2023 (Dutch Grand Prix)

 “I love you. Y-you weren’t some fuck buddy to me…you’ve always been more than that. And…I hate that too.”

“I love you, too. And it’s because I love you that I know what comes after this.”

“What would that be?”

“Nothing.”

He flinches. “I-it doesn’t have to be that way. You could lea—”

You sigh, pulling your dress up as he zip his race suit. “I can’t leave him, Max. It’s not that easy.”

He pants, blue eyes tracing your face anxiously. “A-and why not? Why can’t it be that easy?”

A cruel laugh wiggles up your throat as you dig your nails into your palm. “Because I’m engaged!”

He ricochets with a scoff. “Oh, what? Now you suddenly care about not being called a cheater?” You look away and he chuckles. “Because that’s what you are—a fucking cheater.”

Your face patches into a shade of pink as you breathe heavily, refusing to let the tears fall. “And what does that make you?”

“I am not a cheater.”

You snarl. “No, but you’re a God awful friend.”

He steps back, large hand running against his lips, drying them out, getting rid of your saliva. “You’re just—you know what? Fuck you.”

You gasp. “No. Fuck you.”

Max rolls his blue eyes, finally reaching his breaking point as he pushes you against the wall to his motorhome. “You’re scared, aren’t you? Of realizing what we actually are.”

Heavy pants. Orbs flicker down to his rosy lips. He almost smiles. “What are we? A cheater and a bad friend?”

“No. A villain and their accomplice.” That seems to do it. A strong tide takes over as you sob against his grip. And it doesn’t hurt, it’s not tight. It’s only secure. He continues with a dark look swirling his orbs. “You know, you were always the first one to point out someone as a bad person, when in reality, it's you.”

“Okay, stop—”

“And I’m not innocent either—I’m well aware—but I’m not the one with a ring around their finger.”

“Stop!” you yell, pushing him away harshly. It should feel foreign, the fury and the shame, but that’s all you seem to know these days. Or ever since you met him. “You’re right. We’re two rotten apples, or whatever the fuck you want to call it, but can you blame me? You’re fucking with my head, Max!”

He softens, and for a moment, its pure silence, other than your tiny cries. Licking his lips, he pats his thigh. “You already know I’m wrongfully in love with you. I just actually thought I stood a chance. That it would be me.”

“Max…”

He winces in pain with how sweet your voice sounds pronouncing his name. It’s always been that way. When you first interviewed him a year ago, to when you first kissed him back and gasped his name. But it only got dirtier and dirtier throughout the course of time. 

“Be honest with me, please.” Bloodshot eyes look up at him. “Is he your safest option? Is that what this is?”

And with one final, tormented look, you open your lips to breathe out. 

“He’s someone I could envision a future with, Max.” A beat. “And you’re just a footnote.”

-

“Voilá!” Charles cheers as he claps loudly against your ear. You yelp at the sudden sound all while trying to reach for his hands to stop his movements. He grins, deep dimples imprinting like feet on sand. “That was beautiful, really, it really was.”

Rubbing your ass against his bulge is the only way you think you can get him to shut up, and he does, immediately letting out a strained chuckle. Smiling sweetly at your friends, you shrug. “I had my doubts, Pierre, but this was pretty cute. Thank you.”

The Frenchman gloats, clicking his fingers. I told you, I told you they’d like it! Your fiancé kisses your cheek. “That’s why I chose him.” A playful frown. “You see, mon amour? You never hold any faith in my decisions.”

Rolling your eyes, you stick your pink tongue out at him. “I still think you should have chosen one of your brothers.” A stern look. “Like Lorenzo—wasn’t he the one that helped you buy the ring?”

“Yes, but that would have been unfair to Arthur. He would’ve felt left out.”

“Arthur’s too distracted trying to figure out the difference between left and right!” The Monegasque tosses his head back and you admire with a soft glow. “I lo—”

“Wait,” Carlos hollers, deep accent ringing. You and Charles turn, bubble bursting. “We all went around sharing but Max.”

“Yeah,” Lily ponders, fingers tracing her lips. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Pierre hums. “Mate?”

Max blinks, shaking his head. “Ah, it’s alright. We’ve heard enough, don’t you think?” His joke is meant to be easy going, but it comes out dry, and even to this day, you can notice it. Licking your already glossed lips, you flip your gaze to Lissie and Daniel who share the same worried expression.

Because Lissie was your best friend. She would carry your secret to the grave.

Because Daniel was Max’s best friend. He would carry his secret to the grave.

But the Dutchman himself didn't care. He honestly felt like he had nothing else to lose.

“Okay then,” he whispers, wiping his sweaty palms against his jeans. He slightly tilts his head to the open sky, as if wondering when it would swallow him whole. He was secretly hoping it would. Beady, excited, and petrified eyes stare back at him as he smiles awkwardly. “I…”

“He doesn’t want to,” you declare, twisting to signal the Frenchman. “If he doesn’t want to, then he doesn’t have to say anything, it’s fine.”

“No.” Blue eyes darken as he places his drink down onto the wooden table. “I want y—” He bites his tongue, immediately tasting metallic. “I want to.”

“Let him,” Charles says, chuckling softly. “Don’t kill his stride.”

So, with neat brows drawn together, clammy fingers playing with your silver band, you sit back down. Like a force of nature, the Monegasque hugs you from behind. You gulp, leaning the back of your head against his shoulder. 

“I think it’s crazy how one minor decision can change absolutely fucking everything.” 

“Oh shit,” Lissie and Daniel mutter next to each other, exchanging the blunt back and forth. 

Your face twists up like a wrinkled shirt. “If you’re not going to say anything nice, then don’t say anything at all.”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to say,” he instantly shoots back, but feverishly deflates when Charles furrows his dark brows like some Doberman. Astonished at his cold tone, you blink, lashes fluttering like a notebook. He almost swoons at the sight, but amazingly holds back. 

“If you hadn’t taken Pierre’s advice and apologized to Charles, then we wouldn't be here. If you hadn’t spent summer break with him, then we wouldn’t be here. If you hadn't fallen in love, then we wouldn’t be here.” He swallows. “It’s the little things.”

“And, um...what makes a relationship work out is the commitment. If one person commits and the other doesn’t then it won’t ever work out, but you two…” You nibble on your bottom lip harshly, holding your breath as he looks into your bright eyes. He releases a forced chuckle, as if it would help get rid of his splintered heart. “You two chose each other, so…cheers to that.”

“Wow,” Charles hums, blankly. “That was surprisingly heartfelt…” A sheepish grin. “Thank you, mate.”

It’s as if he’s suddenly admitting defeat to someone who didn’t know they had him as an opponent to begin with; the way he throws the peony at the Monegasque, who catches it with ease. “Don’t mention it.” 

So, as Max sits alone, with no date, he begins to wonder that maybe—just maybe—you were right all along. 

He gave his speech last.

He was the footnote.

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[verstappen-cult]

Charles likes to spoil you and give you everything you want, you just need to pout and look at him with your big puppy eyes and he’s gone.

Max, however, is a little more stern and doesn’t give in so easily.

And that’s the beauty of your relationship.

The perfect balance.

Like that one time where you had been going out to dinner three nights in a row. Max has been okay with it because he’d missed you since they weren’t home for three weeks. But the fourth day when you came into the living room and sat down on Charles’ lap, Max immediately knew what you wanted and he had made up his mind the day before. You didn’t know, of course, so he just let you try to get your way with Charles while he played some FIFA.

Max knew Charles was a goner the minute you sat on his lap and began to tell him about how much you had missed him. And then Max had you both looking at him and pleading to go out. Again.

“We’re gonna stay here tonight and we’ll cook dinner together.” Max said, too concentrated with the game to look at you.

“But I missed you!” You pouted, snuggling closer, if that’s even possible, to your Monégasque boyfriend. “And I’ve been waiting for you to be back, so we can go to all this new places.”

Charles gave you a kiss on the forehead, “Max, she is right. We can go out tonight, non?”

Finally, Max paused the game and turned his body to look at you both.

“We are not going out.” His voice was stern but his expression soft. “We missed you too and we want to go out and visit all those new places. But we are not gonna expose ourselves to fans and photographers tonight. You understand, right?”

“Alright, Maxie.” You said, standing up from Charles’ lap and walking to your Dutch boyfriend to sit on his lap, and kiss his cheek.

Charles groaned, a little amused too, because how was that even possible.

Or that one time when you came home after one of your Pilates classes while they were cuddling on the couch watching an action movie. They immediately knew that something was going on when you stood in front of them with your hands behind your back and a sheepish look on your face.

“What did you do?” Max asked, brows furrowed.

“Remember when I showed you that picture of the puppy that was up for adoption?”

Charles sat up in a second, eyes wide and a smile making its way to his face.

“You didn’t.”

Then, you showed them what you were hiding behind your back: a dachshund puppy.

Max couldn’t deny that the puppy was very cute.

“Oh my god,” Charles stood up and with all the care in the world took the animal in his arms.

You and Max watched him whisper sweet nothings as the puppy licked his face.

“Can we keep it?” You asked, looking directly at Max. You knew Charles was more than happy to keep the puppy, it was your other boyfriend who you were worried about.

“Have you thought about what it means to have a puppy?” He immediately asked.

And god you love how he’s always been the voice of the reason in your relationship. Always thinking with a clear mind about the pros and cons, because if it were for you and Charles, you wouldn’t survive a day.

“You know how difficult it is with Jimmy and Sassy when we have to travel.”

You pout and look back at Charles who is too busy playing with the puppy to pay attention to what is going on. “I take care of them when you travel.”

“I know,” Max patted his thigh and you went willingly to sit on his lap. “But cats are more independent than dogs.”

“But I feel so alone when you’re not around.” At that, Max heart broke a little. He knew how alone you felt because you’ve had that conversation in the past. “And if I have to travel with you or something I can bring him with me.”

Max looked at his boyfriend only to find him already looking at him.

There was a silent exchange of words between them before Charles nodded and spoke.

“Max,” He said softly, leaving the new puppy on the carpet to sit next to his boyfriend. “We can have a puppy. She will make sure he gets along with Jimmy and Sassy, right, love?”

“Yes, absolutely! I looked up information about that and I can even train him.” The way your eyes lighted up and Charles looked at you so happy was enough to break Max.

He gave in.

The perfect balance.

Because Max can be strict and the responsible adult of the three of you when it’s needed, while Charles is the one who makes him remember that he doesn’t need to be like that all of the time.

[pitchsidestories]

looks can be misleading II Beth Mead x Vivianne Miedema x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1928

a/n: the inspiration for this oneshot came from this adorable request here.

Playing for Arsenal had always been your dream, even as a little child. But now that you were actually here, at the Arsenal Training Centre, reality looked much different. You hated everything.

From the way the other players stared at you, taking in your tattooed arms when you were first introduced to team to the fact that they never seemed to shut up and kept yelling at each other.

As a person who liked it quiet and to keep to herself, it was all too much, too loud. Your social battery had been empty before the warm-up was even over.

So while your new teammates stayed on the training pitch, chatting away, you headed for the shower. Maybe if you were fast enough, you had a few quiet moments to yourself.

You could even be done before the others joined. You walked with quick, impatient steps towards the dressing room, missing the conversation right behind you.

“What do you guys think about the new girl?”, Leah asked the others, genuine curiosity in her voice.

Kim shrugged with a small smile: “I like that she doesn’t talk much.“

“Of course you do.“, Lia laughed, bumping her arm against the smaller midfielders.

“Hey!“, Kim protested.

Laura chimed in, the sweetest smile on her lips: “I like her. She’s so mysterious and her tattoos are cool.“

Katie eyed the young Austrian like she just said the most stupid thing she ever heard: “Nah, I think she’s a bit weird, ye know?”

“I think I agree. She didn’t even say hello when Jonas introduced her.“, Leah stated.

Beth who had been listening quietly, assured her teammates: “We’ll tell you how she’s with us at home.“

“Good luck with her.“, Manu grinned at her.“You know, I’ve gathered quite some experience with quiet, broody women.“ She inconspicuously nodded towards her girlfriend.

With a frown, Vivianne turned to her: “Wait, are you talking about me?”

“Who else would I be talking about, babe?”

Viv rolled her eyes with clear fondness for girlfriend: “Time to go home. Bye, guys.“

“Bye.“, their teammates echoed in unison. 

Beth and Vivianne were the ones that you would stay with until your own flat was ready to move in. If that meant days or weeks, who knew.

At least their apartment was close to the training centre and you had their guest room to yourself.

Sitting on your bed, you enjoyed being in your own company for a moment. A very short moment as you came to realize.

“Y/n? Do you want to come down and cook dinner with us?”, Beths called for you, her voice echoing from the walls and you wondered if the neighbours had heard her too.

You didn’t want to. But you also didn’t want to seem impolite so you joined them in their kitchen.

“I’m not great at cooking…“, you admitted.

“No problem, we can do this together.”, Beth assured you with an encouraging smile.

“Okay, sure.”, you shrugged.

“It’s easy.”, Viv added.

“Yes, you can start with cutting some veggies.”, her girlfriend advised you in an uplifting tone.

While you did as she said the Dutch woman cleared her throat nervously. “How did you like your first training session y/n?”

“Good.”, you answered monosyllabically as you focused on cutting the vegetables in front of you.

“And how do you like London? Do you have any family close by?”, Beth wanted to know curiously.

“I haven’t seen enough of the city yet to say if I like it and no, my family isn’t from here.”, you revealed. From the way you phrased your answer it was clear that you preferred to not talk about your familiar relations.  

“Oh.”, the blonde muttered surprised.

The rest of the cooking and dinner passed uneventfully. During the dinner Beth tried to get you to talk a little bit more, but that turned out to be unsuccessful.

“I’m going to bed, good night you two.”, you announced once you were done with eating.

“Good night, y/n. See you tomorrow.”, the English forward chirmed. She watched you leaving the kitchen with a loud sigh.

“She’s truly intimidating, Beth.”, Viv whispered when you were out of ear-sight. An amused twinkle was in her light eyes.

“Even you think so?”, Beth chuckled, resting the head on her girlfriend’s shoulder.

Reluctantly the Dutch player put an arm around the smaller woman. For a moment she paused before admitting thoughtfully. “No, I think what she really needs is time, it’s not easy to be the new girl in the team.”

“You would know, huh?”, the English forward gave her a teasing smile.

“Yes, I do actually.”, Viv acknowledged, pressing a soft kiss to her girlfriend’s blonde hairline.

In the past she had quite often confessed that the beginning of her Arsenal career was quite tough for her.

As a young foreign girl who already had made herself known in the national team the Dutch forward had to accustomed to a new country, different playing style and a fresh pressure which came with playing for such a big club.

“We’ll see.”, Beth answered hoping her girlfriend was right about you.

“Morning y/n.”, she greeted you warmly the next morning, next to her the young dog was already bouncing excitedly.

“Morning.”, you mumbled suppressing a yawn. It was clear for everyone that you were in desperate need of some caffeine.

“We’re taking Myle on a walk. Would you like to come with us? We can get coffee or something.”, the blonde offered smiling friendly.

“Uhm okay.”

“You don’t have to, obviously.”, Viv added quickly.

“No, I do.”, you smiled shily at them.

The couple seemed happy that you accepted their offer. You all shrugged on jackets and left for a stroll around the neighbourhood.

Beth and Viv walked slightly in front of you, politely giving you your own space while Beth kept talking and Vivianne just listened. You were perfectly fine just taking everything in and watching Myles’ floppy ears bounce with every step. You could feel a smile tug on the corner of your mouth.

When you reached the coffee shop, you offered to wait outside with Myle. Patiently, you sat at a table outside and rubbed your hands together. It was an unusually cold morning. Even the little dog at your feet seemed to shiver slightly in the cold air, despite the thick brown fur.

“Come here.“, you mumbled to yourself as you gently pulled Myle onto your lap, in hopes that your body warmth would help. She immediately curled up on your lap and let you pet her.

“Your puppy is really cute.“, you said softly as your two teammates reemerged from the coffee shop, steaming cups in their hands.

Beths’ face lit up as soon as she saw you two together: “Oh, looks like she likes you already.“

Myle lifted her head as if she was listening attentively.

You could feel your cheeks heating up: “She was getting cold so I warmed her…“

“That’s sweet of you. You like milk and sugar with your coffee, right?”, Beth smiled and pushed a cup of coffee towards you.

You gratefully reached for it, wrapping your hands around the warm drink. “I do. How did you get that?”

“I was hoping for the best. It was either that or black coffee.“, Beth laughed as she took the chair next to yours.

You sipped on your coffee and smiled: “Not bad.“

“Oh, so she can smile!”, Beth exclaimed happily.

You grimaced, slightly embarrassed.

"This is your and Myles' achievement, Beth.”, Vivianne told her girlfriend.

Beth laughed again and you had to admit, you could actually get used to that sound. “I think Myle deserved the majority of the credit.“

“She’s just so cute.“, you mumbled as you looked down at the puppy on your lap.

“Yes, she is.“, Beth agreed, her eyes wandering from Myle to your face.

There was something intense in her gaze and it made you immediately feel insecure, the blush creeping back into your cheeks, so you set the little dog down and got up from your seat, indicating that you would like to continue your walk. “Let’s go.“

Even though you were in London for almost a week now, you still preferred to run your laps away from others in training. You couldn’t focus on yourself when everyone kept talking. Besides, you didn’t care much for the gossip anyway that was so willingly shared during the warm-up.

As you ran by yourself, you didn’t hear any of the conversation Beth was having with her teammates on the other side of the pitch.

“Wait, are you serious, Beth? Are you still talking about her over here.“, Leah asked as she jogged alongside her teammate. She subtly nodded in your general direction.

“Leah! Of course I’m talking about her. She’s such a sweetheart once you get to know her.“

“One could think you’ve a crush on her, Beffy.”, Steph teased the friend grinning.

“I mean.”, the English forward run her free hand nervously through her blonde hair.

“Stephs not wrong here.”, Alessia commented with a cheeky smile.

“She’s kind of cute, don’t you think?”, Beth turned her head to look at her girlfriend, searching for the confirmation she needed.

“No, I do.”, Viv agreed.

“Well, this is going to be interesting.”, Kim remarked with a meaningful glance toward the couple.

The piece of their talk you did hear left you almost speechless.  “Wait, what?”, you interrupted them stunned.

“Oh, y/n.”, Beth sighed softly.

“I forgot my cleats I’ll be right back.”, you lied, you were desperate to get out of this uncomfortable situation as quick as possible.

“Shit.”, the Dutch forward cursed under her breath. There was a mutual understanding between Viv and her lover that didn’t need words, so they quietly followed you into the changing room.

“Y/n? If you feel more at ease not living at our home your place is ready.”, the younger of the two offered heavy heartedly.  

“Yeah, I’ll move out.”, you decided unable to look into their sad eyes.

“Sorry, for our teammates talk from earlier.”, Beth apologized biting her lip guiltily.

“Beth, Viv, stop.”, you demanded.

“We’ll leave.”, Viv nodded.

“No, I want to tell you something,. I like you two .. like a lot.”, you confessed it took all your bravery to say these words out loud.

You know your looks could be misleading, they made you appear tough: your muscles and tattoos were like your armour against a world which hasn’t always treated you with the kindness you and everyone really deserved.

But you were tired of being alone and the two women showed you a way to break out of the loneliness.

“We like you two.”, the Dutch woman assured you earnestly.

“Y/n, what are you trying to say?”, the blonde asked confused by the turn this discussion took.

“I don’t know what I’m trying to say, that’s the problem.”, you admitted.

“That’s okay.”, Beth replied.

“I guess thanks for everything. I’ll get my stuff later.”, you smiled sadly at them.

“Actually, Viv paused a second before continuing, you could stay with us.”

“Really? To be honest I’d like to stay at your home.”, you looked up surprised.

“Our home.”, Viv corrected you as Beth pulled you into a tight group hug.

“We got to keep her.”, the blonde hummed happily.

“Beth, I’m not Myle!”, you protested.

“No, but you’re just as cute.”, she answered giving you a kiss to your cheek which immediately turned red.

Despite the banter these two and the dog were the closet thing you had to call home.

[povlnfour]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ HEY TWITTER! (AA23)

pairing: alex albon x f!reader

summary: alex spends the night of a concert dancing with a beautiful stranger, he remembers everything about her, from her outfit to what her favorite song was — well, except for her name.

genre: humour, fluff

authors note: dedicated to my fabulous 🪐 anon for the most incredible idea (and also just being the most beautiful human being)

*faceclaim for y/n: yasmin wijnaldum (but please imagine her as you see fit)

dutch anthem antis ੈ✩‧₊˚

alex_albon just tweeted ੈ✩‧₊˚

twitter reacts ੈ✩‧₊˚

meanwhile, texts between lily and y/n ੈ✩‧₊˚

lilymhe just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by yourusername and 23,018 others

lilymhe one of us had way too much to drink last night, you have one guess

view all comments

yourusername um idk this is really difficult

lilymhe it’s the sticker gem still on your face that is getting me

user wait…. is this her…

lilymhe is this WHO

user GUYS I THINK THIS MIGHT BE HER

user GOOD JOB INTERNET

user @/alex_albon CAN YOU CONFIRM OR DENY

alex_albon OH MY

user IM TAKING THAT AS A YES

new activity ੈ✩‧₊˚

alex_albon started following yourusername ➡️

⬅️ yourusername followed alex_albon back

dutch anthem antis ੈ✩‧₊˚

y/n’s dms with alex ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by lilymhe, alex_albon and 50,081 others

yourusername challenge: which one of us had the most fun this past few days

view all comment

alex_albon well if you don’t say you then i fear i bought you dinner for no reason

user IT WAS HER!!! WE DID IT GUYS

user he found out who she was a few hours ago and he’s already on her instagram… maybe he has more power than we thought

lilymhe definitely not me i’ve been sat in a hotel room while you go meet boys

yourusername he bought doughnuts for us to share. omw to you with them now🤝

lilymhe i take it back @alex_albon you can stay

alex_albon just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by yourusername and 150,608 others

alex_albon a story in 3 parts

view all comments

user idk what you did but i’m sure you deserved that middle finger

yourusername that food coma hit different

lilymhe you’re telling me i walked in to you both laying like vampires passed out

user the plot thickens

user heavily entertained by the idea of alex legitimately falling in love with a girl whilst drunk, hunting her down using the internet, and then going instagram official within 72 hours

user i don’t think they’re dating aha

user @/user ok well if he doesn’t want her then i do

user okay answer quickly are y’all dating

yourusername no one knows

alex_albon dating? what’s dating?

dutch anthem antis ੈ✩‧₊˚

williamsracing just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by yourusername, mclaren and 100,058 others

williamsracing hit tweet, who’s this?

view all comments

user WILLIAMS I LOVE YOU

lilymhe can u ask him to order me more doughnuts pls

user so real, using best friend privileges

user he’s not a want but a need

yourusername oh i miss that face already☹️

liked by alex_albon

mclaren @/williamsracing heard you may be in need of our services…?

williamsracing we’re listening👀

mclaren plans are already in action🤝

yourusername just tweeted ੈ✩‧₊˚

twitter reacts ੈ✩‧₊˚

williamsracing just posted stories ੈ✩‧₊˚

dutch anthem antis ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by lilymhe, landonorris and 56,109 others

yourusername safe to say he learnt the meaning of the word dating

view all comments

user FINALLY

user alex albon most successful twitter user

lilymhe AND I DIDNT HEAR ABOUT THIS???

yourusername i tried to ring you but you didn’t pick up😔

lilymhe @/yourusername RING ME AGAIN WTF

alex_albon @/lilymhe she’s busy rn😁

lilymhe @/alex_albon GROSS

alex_albon @/lilymhe NOT LIKE THAT

alex_albon just posted a photo, 1 year later ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by landonorris, yourusername and 105,660 others

alex_albon got her number, remembered her name, kept her around for a year

view all comments

user wow who said romance was dead huh

user when we talk about having fanfic moments… that’s these two

user ok now bring her to the next race we miss seeing her in the paddock

landonorris and yet IM the one with no rizz

yourusername your girlfriend literally called you cute and you folded. shut up.

landosgf babe our relationship started because you hit me with your car ? that’s not rizz it’s stupidity

landonorris i regret ever introducing you two

yourusername i love you, or whatever🙄

mclaren @/williamsracing i’m not seeing a thank you?

williamsracing logan would have thanked us

alex_albon yes that’s right set him up next

logansargeant no thank yOU i can’t deal with the headache

——————

a/n: okay🤓 first post in a while. half written pre baby half written post. hopefully i’ve still got it LMAO. off to finish some written bits / write a new oscar imagine idea i had over the month

will i ever stop this mclaren matchmaking saga? i don’t think so

taglist: @iloveyou3000morgan @scopeiguess @gwginnyweasley @hetfieldd @sweetbabygirlsworld @wittywhispers @bingewatche @sebvettelsgirl @casperlikej @geniusalpaca @namgification @orangetreekid @

[iwishf1wasreal]

NSFW F1 Driver Profiles: ✴ Max Verstappen ✴

smut ✴ 18+ readers only please

I. Flirt.

He’s not exactly known as a certified rizzster, but he does carry that Champion’s confidence and aura of success everywhere he goes. That usually works in his favour, but he would only approach if he were solidly in his own element. You’re a guest in the garage? Perfect. You’ve stumbled into the club where he’s having his birthday party in the VIP section? No problem, he’ll get you through the ropes. He’s much better at flirting once he’s in a relationship and you’ve established rapport and trust. He would rather be quiet than look stupid, which pretty much dissipates once you’re officially dating. Then, he’s more than glad to look like an idiot in front of you, especially if it will make you laugh.

II. Propositioning. 

He’s honest and extremely blunt. Straight up asks “do you want to have sex right now?” or “can we fuck when we get back to the hotel?” He purposefully enjoys saying it explicitly in front of someone, so it will instantly have your cheeks burning and your eyes furiously glaring at him. Max likes riling you up. He also likes that you smack or kick him in reaction. Then you yell at him about being a true menace to society or punctuate your whacks with You’re! So! Crude! And then he just has to make good on the accusation, doesn’t he? 

III. Libido.

It's pretty high. If you ended up fucking every time he felt like it, it might end up being two or three times a day. This isn’t to say that can’t or hasn’t been achieved, but it's not exactly practical when he has such a meticulously timed day, down to the approximate minute he must be asleep. But he’d roll his eyes if you ever told him that you considered him a sexual person. It’s not that he doesn’t think he is; it's just that the entire concept of sexual person seems redundant to him. Humans are sexual. Humans have the animal urge to procreate; therefore, it’s built into the human experience. It just seems like an unnecessary distinction to him. But he craves sex; he loves it and is constantly either thinking about it or talking about it. Despite this, he still has the audacity to turn to you and shape his mouth to say, “oh, so you.” with an evil smirk when he finds out what the word ‘nymphomaniac’ means. 

IV. Turn-Ons: tame & nasty.

Tame: Your exposed neck. String bikinis. A thong’s whale tail. When your Dutch isn’t half bad. Back massages. Treating you to nice things. Referring to his cats as your own. When you stand behind him whilst he’s sitting and run your hands down the planes of his body. That time he somehow was able to go to Oktoberfest, and you wore that traditional dress (he’s honestly never stopped thinking about your titties in it). Coming and straddling his lap when he calls you over. When you subconsciously reach for him in the middle of the night. Ignoring other men in favour of paying him attention. Calling him a world champion. Whenever you let him hang all over you. 

Nasty: Spanking. The way your ass ripples after getting spanked. Watching you undress while he remains fully clothed. Telling you what to do and filming it. Sundress and no panties. Your scent after sex. You taking control. Your hand around his throat. Nudes taken with his trophies. Cumming on your chest. Doing it in the dark with the big hotel windows open and city lights twinkling. Threesomes but only with another woman...for now. When you talk him through a handjob/blowjob and an orgasm (sometimes he likes it if you’re a little mean, too). When he does something embarrassing or awkward during sex and you just sweep his hair out of his eyes and laugh because it’s no big deal. 

V. Self-stimulation.

Porn is definitely an option for Max. He won’t be forthright with it, but he’s seen his fair share of the degrading, aggressive stuff. Obviously, you’d wring his neck if you found out that not only is a multi-millionaire too cheap to pay for his porn, but he’s freeriding on the most misogynist content he could find. Well, now that he’s a spoken-for man, he has a hard time keeping it up for women who aren’t you. It’s like he’s imprinted on you; he can only finish if he lets his memory/imagination or private folder on his phone take over. He’s not above a midnight call to you—really no regard for whatever you might be doing (and that’s kinda part of the fun)---all whiny and horny and begging you to at least stay on the line while he strokes off. 

VI. Foreplay.

He lowkey needs foreplay. His ego would never let him admit it, but sex is quite emotional for him. Max has never really excelled with one-night stands because he either finds himself not caring enough or caring too much. He felt like things changed between you once you started sleeping together–in the best way possible. Of course, there are occasions when you’re both just raring and pawing at each other as fast as you can. But generally, he likes to be warmed up and tended to, too. Dry humping is always a good time for him, and he likes watching you work your hips against him (and the patch of wetness that always transfers from your clothes to his) He’s also a big kisser. During sex, before, after, or without even thinking about sex, he wants to kiss you. Likes the heat of your breath, the soft feel of your tongue. Anywhere. Everywhere. 

VII. Rhythm.

To be honest, because of his headstrong tendencies and fast-paced thinking, it’s sort of become your job to set the rhythm. It’s not even that he wants to take you fast and hard; he just kind of…does. Even when he’s in a romantic headspace, he can just have a hard time slowing down and enjoying the moment. It’s not really a surprise to you. It’s the same way he is in every other part of his life. He doesn’t always realise that the habit of trying to speed through his least favourite parts of life has bled over into rushing through some of the good things too. No need to worry, though. The slow rock of your hips, the sweetness of your voice, and the patience in your hands is all he really needs. Maybe that’s why even thinking about sex with someone else is hard. You just get him. You take care of him. You give him exactly what he needs. 

VIII. How He Likes It.

Personally, he likes it deep. Especially because you are usually in more controlling positions. The eye contact, the kisses, the dirty talk. It’s just so much better. His favourite would be any variation on cowgirl (equally fond of front-facing and reverse–for titties and ass, respectively). He feels best in what some might call the chair position, where you’ll sit on his lap as he sits on the bed or a chair. In this position, he can hit your g-spot almost certainly while one of his hands works your clit. He’ll kiss down your shoulder, your cheek, your neck while your hands roam his thighs and your own body, reaching down to feel the two of you connecting. He’s somewhat willing to try new things but only for so long til he’s huffing and just whining for you to crawl on his lap and take over. 

IX. Location, location, location.

Craziest is probably in an alleyway behind a club. Really only is deemed the craziest because of how many close calls you had while trying to do it. You both know it would be a disaster if anyone found out; however… There are not usually many people wandering the streets at 3am and with so many restrictions with his fame and so much alcohol in your systems, it wasn’t that hard to convince you to give it a go. However, his favourite ‘place’ you’ve ever had sex is, for sure, the post-win blowjob he gets after every win. Obviously, some wins are more key than others, so you’ll do the best you can to create unique experiences for him each time. But honestly, he doesn’t really care. Just needs the warmth of your mouth and the shine of pride in your eyes when he’s finished. He also fantasises about Private Jet sex, even came close a few times when he still owned his. But the prophecy was not complete without you. 

X. Kink.

Pretty kinky. He’s down to try a lot but also has hard boundaries he has no issue expressing. He can be sweet and gentle and loving just as much as he can be rough and aggressive. He’s pretty good at catering to what you both feel at the moment. If you need him to go softer or just want to feel him better, nuzzling your face shyly into his neck with a soft whine of the request, he’s instantly adapting to what you want. It’s not that you’re “in charge”; he just really wants to please you. Or, if the mood strikes and you feel turned on by the clench in his jaw and the frustration of his voice, you’re more than willing to ask him to take it all out on you. And he can give you that too. The biggest fantasy fulfilled is probably after-race sex of any variety, even with his press officer banging incessantly on the locked door while you try and make use of the three whole minutes you have until his trainer comes back with the key. Despite how common it is, he’s not really into the Daddy or Mommy kink. He’d never outright say it, but he’s got enough mommy and daddy issues; he doesn’t need to confuse his psyche by bringing you into the mix, too. 

XI. Bedroom aids/Toys 

Feels pretty neutral about toys. Again, his common sense kind of takes over, and he gets why you need it. Does hold on to some hope that you don’t use it while he’s home and he’s readily available. Though if he is gaming all day and won’t tear himself way…Sometimes you’ll just set up the vibrator to rattle loudly against the headboard, so he knows what you’re doing. Almost always, he’ll get off the game and come play with you instead. He likes a lot of lube, if available. If he could squeeze some more ooey gooey stuff all over you just to make it nastier and wetter, he would. 

XII. Cum. 

He’s messy finisher. Not just on you but generally. He doesn’t care about messing up the bed or leaving too much evidence. To him, it’s sex; how are you supposed to control yourself during it? What, like people, can actually plan where they’ll cum? Perhaps it’s because he grew up relatively wealthy, or he’s just gotten used to people picking up after him. The number of times he’d told you, “just leave it, babe. The maids will get it.” while you scoff horrified at him. You make sure he realises his mistake, flinging whatever soiled garment at his face. 

XIII. Pleasure reciprocation. 

He’ll go down on you if you’re into it. He tends to think he’s probably a little bit better than he is, but he’s not bad. If anything, he’s got a passion and dedication for it. He likes the feeling of making you finish quickly or making you feel so good you can’t even keep your eyes open. He’s experienced but still clumsy. He knows his way around (mostly) but likes it better when you tell him what feels good or react to what he’s doing. He doesn’t have enough patience to keep the focus on you for /forever/ so he’s not one to spend hours down there but you get your fair share.  

XIV. Bonus.

Once you had sex in front of two of his friends who were touching themselves. It kinda just happened. You were out glamping for some EDM festival in Europe, pretending to have the humility of camping with all the five star amenities you could need. It was in the early hours of the morning after you’d been partying all night. One of them had complimented you, telling Max he was lucky to have a girlfriend like you. Then, Max kissed you. Never a huge fan of PDA, you always followed his lead on how much he wanted to show to the public. But then his hand was up yours skirt and when you broke away, he used his strength against you to pull you closer and kiss down your neck. Max was two fingers deep into you by the time you even remembered his friends were in the room. He told you to talk them through it, just like you did for him. But you couldn’t. First, the pads of his fingers had reached deep and found the spot that made it hard to thing, let alone talk. You weren’t much of an instructor, mumbling a few cues before popping the button on Max’s pants and pulling him free. He was breathing heavy and hard in your ear, moans muffled against your skin as you faced his friends. They’d fully thrown themselves into to pleasure, hands wrapped around their dicks and stroking in the same deseperate rhythm you were working with Max. As you neared an orgasm, you spread your legs, giving his friends a better view of how he filled you. It drove Max crazy, he moaned against your neck, a cocky laugh coming off the end of it. His friends finished before you–unable to keep up with the pace you and Max had set. Then, Max who helped you ride out your own after him, brain only malfunctioning a few times as you milked him into overstimulation. He made sure to show off how he’d finished inside you to his friends. Then the two of you just showered and went to bed like it never happened. 

[mj0702]

The other Bronze – Pt. 16 🔞

This Chapter contains some adult content

Por mi vida... Te amo a la luna y de vuelta mi hermosa....♥️

“You can keep dreaming because that won't happen” the dark haired woman laughed

“Worth a try” you smirked as you pulled Jennis jersey over your head

“Dear jesus Christ” you gagged lightly after you sniffed the fabric “Sure you only wore that for that game??”

“Actually no... that's the same one we wore at the Euro final” the spaniard deadpanned “We're broke you know... we have to re-use jerseys”

“Seriously??” you asked outraged your eyes wide with shock while Lucy started to snicker behind you

“Of course not... but you and your stupid tactic had me run a lot – sorry that my jersey doesn’t smell like detergent” Jenni rolled her eyes

“I think it was a good tactic” you defended yourself pouting “Lucy you tell her”

“You put me in goal!!!” your sister exclaimed

“Yeah... that was funny.. the way you panicky screamed at Mills to keep “that bloody ball far FAR away” from you....” you chuckled as your sister hit your shoulder

“Y/N... you still have something to do” now Sarina interrupted and you know you still need to come up with an apology to Rubiales

“How believable would it be if I suddenly have a stroke?” you asked the dutch innocently and all players around you snorted

“Not very believable... come on... the sooner you get it over with the sooner I can reward you for your actions” the blonde coach winked

“Hermoso” you looked at Jenni “... it was a pleasure as always... I have to go and fake apologize to your... whatever he is”

“Oh Corazon... I didn't even show you pleasure but okay...” the dark haired winked “and he's the federation president”

“He's a fucking cunt that's what he is” you grumbled not even catching up on Jennis comment

“And THAT'S exactly what we don't say in our apology” Sarina said chuckling

“Do I really have to come up with an apology on the spot without swear words?” you asked in disbelieve

“Yes Bitsy...” Keira rolled her eyes “... and I know you can – you always pull your head out of the sling somehow”

“Okay okay... give me a minute okay” you huffed starting to think of what to say “... Hermoso could you stop drooling over me abs? I know they're fantastic – me girlfriend tells me every time we...”

“STOP talking!” Lucy exclaimed shuddering at the thought of you and Georgia doing anything else than holding hands while Jenni, Keira and Sarina bursted out laughing

“It's distracting!!!” you huffed

“I am distracting you?” Jenni smirked enjoying the little banter which distracted HER from the previous incident

“Not you... you eyes” you grumbled “I need to think quick here”

“Come on Liefje” Sarina suddenly pulled you away “We won't get anywhere if you butterfly with Hermoso all the time”

“I'm NOT butterflying” you huffed annoyed

“Yes you are... now... this is going to happen now... you are going to apologize officially right in front of the crowd and later again at the post-match press” the dutch said and you grimaced

“Really? In front of the crowd?” you whined

“Yes... this is damage control and when everyone sees how “sorry” you are we have a good chance that FIFA won't interfere” Sarina said seriously and you huffed

“But I don't wanna” you whined again but one look from the dutch shut you right off

“You'll do fine Bitsy okay... you're good at that” Keira squeezed your shoulder supporting

“Ugh.... fine” you huffed annoyed as someone handed you a microphone connected to the stadium speakers

You started to walk out of the tunnel and you knew the second the camera caught you and your picture appeared on the big screens since suddenly there was loud cheering and it made you smirk. You walked all the way to the kick off point standing there for a second taking a deep breath before turning around facing the spanish bench where Vida and Rubiales were still standing. You saw how the medics just packed their stuff together and how Rubiales had two tissues hanging out of his nose. You really needed to bite your tongue so you wouldn't start laughing – you were “sorry” after all. At least that's what Sarina told you you were. You saw how all the players – Lionesses and Spanish – were lingering in the tunnel entrance waiting for your speech

“Hi” you started awkwardly looking into the stands after the crowd calmed a little bit which caused a new round of cheering and whistleing. Vida and Rubiales looked at you expectantly and when they saw you wore Jennis Jersey you saw how Rubiales jaw set challenging.

“Okay guys... I'm here to apologize for me actions towards Mr. Rubiales a few minutes ago” you said using your “I'm so so SO sorry”-voice “... I honestly don't know what caused me to act the way I did... I'm in the wrong here because violence is never the answer no matter how disgus... no wait... I'm not allowed to say that... violence is never the answer! Let stop there... I never meant to assault you Mr. Rubiales...” you looked at Rubiales himself trying to sell your apology so hard by talking directly to him “... I never meant to hurt you and I don't have an explanation for what happened. Please believe me when I say I'm sorry from the bottom of my heart”

Even you know you went a little over but you really REALLY tried not to verbally assault him right now

“You did nothing but being polite to me and what happens in your federation is not my business” you said and some people would swear they heard a threatening undertone “I hope you accept me apology and we can forget this... incident”

You walked back towards the tunnel before making a turn towards Rubiales himself offering you your hand to shake it. He grabbed your hand hard his jaw still set when you pulled him a little forward

“If you ever pull off something like that again you fucking cunt I personally will cut off your balls and feed them to you through your asshole and then I make sure that there's no inch of DNA left of your existence...” you growled into his ear covering it up with clapping on his shoulder like both of you made up “... most of them players I consider my friends – family even... I don't take it lightly if they get put in an uncomfortable situation and I always will have their back”

You let go of him smiling sweetly before turning around walking back into the tunnel where everyone stared of it with disbelieving looks. You smirked feeling great pride and satisfaction with yourself.

“I am REALLY proud of you Liefje” Sarina beamed as you reached her letting her pull you into a hug

“I can't believe it... you actually delivered a grown up apology” Leah said her face showed pure shock

“Yeah well...” you shrugged your shoulders

“I can't believe you apologized” Mapí looked at you a little disappointed

“Had to... they made me” you pointed at Sarina, Keira and Lucy

“I'm proud you didn't punch him again – I was worried there for a second when you made a beeline for him” Lucy threw her arm over your shoulder standing next to you proudly “And you didn't threaten him”

“I definitely didn't” you quickly said and your voice was a little high-pitched

“Bitsy” Keira warned you

“Hm?” you looked at her innocently

“Please don't tell me you did...” the blonde looked at you expectantly

“So... my reward” you turned towards Sarina

“Bitsy!” Keira exclaimed

“What? You said to not tell you... so I don't” you defended yourself

“What did you say... I knew that handshake was a cover up... I KNEW IT” Keira said annoyed

“Look... I just let him know how... I consider most of the spanish team me family... and that I'll always will have their back” you said honestly “andhowIwillfeedhimhisballsandthattherewon'tbeanyDNAleftifhepullssomeshitlikethisagain” you mumbled before quickly sprinting behind Alexia and Jenni ducking for cover

“Come again???” Keira looked at you shocked while the spanish players looked at you confused since you spoke to fast for them to understand

“Could you repeat that for the not english speakers please Cariño?” Alexia said confused

“I rather not” you mumble “Keira will have me head”

Luis Rubiales chose that exact moment to walk into the tunnel and you immediately stood up taller again moving in front of Jenni in a protective manner – which looked kind of ridiculous since Jenni was over a head bigger than you. He threw a death glare at you but continued walking as the crowd of english and spanish players parted like the sea for Moses.

“It's kind of cute how you try to protect me little one” Jenni chuckled from behind you

“He's a... Mapí... worst spanish curse word you know” you spat looking at Mapí

“Cojones or Cono” Mapí easily provided earning herself a really hard slap to the head from Irene and a death glare from Alexia

“That... he's both of that...” you growled looking after Rubiales

“Don't teach her that” Irene told Mapí off harshly

“She asked” the blonde tattooed woman defended herself

“And you CHOSE to answer” the Vice-Capitan answered

“I just wanted to helpful...” Mapí mumbled pouting

“Don't push it María León and just keep your mouth shut” Irene grumbled

“Bitsy... come here sweetie” Keira cooed sweetly

“Oh no... not gonna fall for that... it's like the time you told me you wouldn't get angry if I tell you what I did and after I told you you made me do push ups in the pouring rain” you shook your head looking at her scared shuffling backwards

“I promise...” the blonde tried again smiling sweetly but you saw right through it

“No no... I think I'm gonna stay with Ona” you said and the people who knew you could hear the slight fear in your voice

“You still have a pre-match conference to attend” Sarina reminded you smirking

“Aaaawww maaaaan” you whined “I did what you told me to do – why do I have to sit through that as well?”

“Because it was your game today and not mine” the dutch said “So YOU are going to answer all the questions... in a nice civilized manner”

“Ugh” you huffed and turned to walk towards the media room “But I'm not sitting next to that sorry excuse of a human being”

“Good evening Ladies and Gentleman – this is the post-match conference and we have 60 Minutes. We do it the usual way and go 30 minutes each. All question have to remind professional and under no circumstances will private questions answered. You all have one question if you want a follow up you have to talk to the person if they're willing to do one. We start with questions for the representatives of the english Lionesses Head Coach Sarina Wiegman and Y/N Bronze before going to the spanish representatives Jorge Vilda and Luis Rubiales” the coordinator said and you knew the cameras where already on so you pushed the urge down to roll your eyes your face staying stoic “We're starting with Alex Scott”

You exhaled deeply knowing Alex wouldn't ask anything regarding the Rubiales-event and probably would ask something frivolous.

“Alex Scott for BBC Sports” Alex started smiling at you “A question for Y/N Bronze”

“I know your name and where you work... I've known you for years now” you interrupted her confused which lifted the mood in the room since all of the reporters started chuckling

“That's how it goes y/n... we reporters have to introduce ourselves before asking the question” Alex smiled at you

“Oh okay...” you said quickly “... sorry for interrupting”

“No problem... but my question to you... we were all informed beforehand through different social media channels that you joined the Lionesses as a side line analyst – how comes that you basically dictated the game today?”

“I was given the chance by Sarina... Mrs. Wiegman... Coach? What do I call you?” you started then looked at Sarina unsure which caused another round of light laughter

“Sarina is fine...” the dutch smiled encouraging squeezing your knee under the table in a calming manner

“Sarina gave me the chance to work on a tactic for this game – Spain is a hard opponent to play. I got to Camp with Lucy... Bronze... Lucy Bronze my sister” you started but then got all nervous again since you actually never had to do any press stuff before.

Again Sarina jumped in by stroking over your knee calming

“... but you all know that...” you chuckled at your idiocy “... so when we arrived at Camp Sarina pulled me aside telling me she wanted me to watch some of the spanish games and to come up with a play where we at least can annoy them a little bit. I'm pretty sure she just did that to keep me occupied so I wouldn't do some stupid shit...” you said but quickly slapped your hand over your mouth “... I mean so I don't do... stuff... but yeah... after I sat down with her showing her some plays she told me to put a starting XI together.. at this point I still thought it was all like... hypothetical.. so I did... after that she said that she liked what I came up with and that she trusts me and that I'll have the lead on the game...”

“Would you be interested in answering a follow up?” Alex asked quickly knowing that she only had a short time frame before the next reporter would be called up

“For you always... I mean... you did change me diapers – I think it's just fair” you grinned

“And you were so squirmy about it... but my follow up... what made you come up with putting Lucy in Goal?” the short woman asked smiling

“Knew you would pick up on that” you laughed feeling slightly more relaxed “... that was a last second decision – I had four subs planned... two at half time, two around 70th minute... I left one slot for a possible injury sub – I played some players who just came back from an injury and I didn't want to overwork them. That's why I subbed Meado off 73rd minute in... she played outstanding and I didn't want to risk setting her back in her recovery... I quickly talked to her after she came off and she said she felt good but also appreciated getting off. So after I didn't need the left over slot and Lucy was mean to me earlier – and Keira said she would pay to see Lucy in Goal – I thought... why not... and come on... it was funny seeing her panicky waving her arms around like a monkey absolutely losing her plot screaming at Mills to keep the ball far FAR away” you laughed which caused the room to interrupt in laughter

“Okay next question please...” the coordinator said also laughing and called up a reporter you didn't knew who had a question for Sarina so you turned out and started to look around the room with a bored face which ended in a edit about how you and Lucy are so much alike in conferences

“Question for Y/N Bronze...” a young lad said and after you didn't react in the slightest being busy counting the sponsor labels on the wall behind you Sarina flicked your ear

“Huh??” you looked at you confused

“There's a question for you” the dutch gestured towards the room “Attention on the room”

“Sorry...” you said embarrassed

“You got a yellow card... how did that happened?” the young reporter asked

“First of all... that wasn't MY yellow card... THAT was Onas yellow card” you started serious but your lip tugged upwards and everyone noticed that you were joking “... she committed the foul... I just... asked the Ref if she doesn't see the need to card it”

You heard Sarina clear her throat next to you and you looked at her innocently

“What? I did” you defended yourself

“You took my glasses and ask the Ref if she needs them to and I quote “see a foul when it's happening”...” the dutch looked at you unimpressed

“Not my fault she's a blind moron – that WAS a yellow card” you exclaimed before remembering where you are and – again – slapping your hand over your mouth

Sarina exhaled deeply and started to pinch the bridge of her nose shaking her head slightly as the room erupted in laughter again

“Okay next question... Barry... your turn” the coordinator said and you tensed immediately.

Barry O'Connor was a legend under the reporters – he was one of the ones who could make you or break you. He never held back with the uncomfortable questions and he immediately knew when you lie and THAT he would use to break you.

“Thank you Tom... Barry O'Connor for The Guardian...” the older gruff man said and looked straight at you and you just KNEW what was coming “... question for Bronze... there was a slight – let's call it ruffle after the game... any comment on that?”

“Good evening Mr. O'Connor” you said politely “... I'm afraid you have to be more specific – there was a lot going on after the game”

“You punched the president of the spanish federation – the proof is sitting right there” the reporter said pointing at Rubiales

“Yeah... not my best moment is it... I want to apologize again and honestly I can't tell you what happened... I saw how he moved towards Jenni Hermoso and the next thing I know is Sarina yelling at me in the locker room...” you said and everyone in the room knew you told the truth “... I got the great honour to meet most of these players beforehand when I was visiting my sister in Barcelona and they welcomed me with open arms and helped me when I needed help – looked after me when I needed guidance... so I consider them as family... I don't take it likely if someone makes my family uncomfortable – which everyone who knows me can confirm... so I just – acted to protect my family”

“You said you needed help in Barcelona... what happened?” the older man asked

“Barry you had your question and we said from the start...” the coordinator interrupted but then got interrupted by you

“No it's okay... I'm honoured to be interesting enough to get a follow up by a reporter legend” you said and Sarina heard that you were about to get serious “It's not really a secret that I don't play because I suffered quiet early in my career from three ACL's... so even if I wanted to play I simply can't... in Barcelona a... incident happened that left me with a PTSD episode... all of them helped me afterwards – Mapí León right up top.. she went all the way to the airport to get me english chocolate... I got in the honour to get to know a few teams through Lucys career... if it was City, Lyon or now Barcelona... all of the teams have a special place in my heart but Barca now – they are something else... Alexia Putellas is an amazing leader – on and off the pitch... under her lead this team stepped up coming together as a family – no matter which nationality or background...”

You looked back at the reporter who smiled appreciative nodding slightly

“So yes... they helped me a great deal... even when I got overdosed on pain meds and didn't know what I was doing and gave them nicknames and was high as a kite” you winked

“Okay last question for the english side before we're moving on the spanish representatives” the coordinator said and pointed at a young blonde woman

“Thank you... Sarah Mulligan for ITV” the young woman said “Question for both Sarina and y/n... Sarina what made you involve y/n as much and y/n how did feel or managed with the pressure?”

“You first?” you looked at Sarina a little lost which caused the dutch to chuckle

“Thank you for your question” Sarina started and you interrupted her

“We have to thank for questions...” you exclaimed shocked before looked into the room “Thank you?”

This made everyone laugh again before Sarina continued

“It's polite Liefje” the dutch said lovingly “... but back to the question... I got to know y/n when she was recovering from her third surgery. I just took over from Phil Neville trying to get a read on the Team having called up a few young players but also some experienced ones – like Lucy Bronze. Lucy called me two days before Camp would start asking if she could bring her little sister who just got out of hospital. I agreed knowing from former games and also from stories how much Lucy cared for her sister. The moment I saw her for the very first time I knew she was someone special. She was still wearing a leg splint and was still on crutches but that didn't stop her from refusing help even going so far to hit Lucy away with her crutch...” the dutch remembering your first appearance smiling slightly “.... she was so grumpy and angry – a deep anger and I must admit I was unsure for a moment if it was a good idea to have her with the team. I feared she would bring the team spirit down – but I was wrong. So very wrong. The moment she stepped into the Hotel lobby and I saw how many players were happy to see her I knew it was the right decision. At the first training session she sat in the stands just staring down on the pitch – I must admit I kept an eye on her because Lucy asked me too... y/n never moved one muscle just stared down on the session. So I thought I let one of the assistants take over and went up to sit next to her. I sat down and asked how she was doing. Her answer was that I should rethink this formation because it's putting to much pressure on the midfield. Then she just stood up and left. I looked down on the pitch and saw Keira and Jordan Nobbs were struggling to keep up with the pace I tried to put up with the play. That was the moment I decided to get her involved more – one because she has an eye for things no one ever sees and two she needed a task. She needed something to take her mind off her injury and what it meant – what she lost. I got her involved a little bit more every camp and this time she finally accepted my offer to employ her full time which I know is a big step for her. But a big step in the right direction. A big step towards healing” the blonde said lovingly and squeezed your hand

“That got deep Mama Rina” you mumbled getting a little emotional before looking at the young reporter woman “Thank you for your question”

The room chuckled again enjoying your young easy and light way you were handling the situation of getting thrown into a press conference for the first time

“I'm sorry I can't provide such a deep meaningful answer but... I didn't feel any pressure to be honest. As I said before until the very last moment – the moment that Sarina made me explain my tactics to the team to be exact – it was all hypothetical for me. And after that I didn't really have time to feel pressured – I tell ya this team is a handful. Just yesterday Niamh called out Code Red – which means no one is allowed to leave – because she couldn't find her lucky socks... turns out the washed them in the sink and hung them on the balcony and they just fell off onto the balcony of Lottes... that's the shit you guys normally don't get to see” you said shaking your head when you remembered how ridiculously headless Niamh tore her room apart because of a pair of socks.

After the room quiet down from their round of laughter again the whole questioning shifted towards the spanish men and you started to spin with your chair until Sarina stopped you gently putting her hand on your arm to calm you down. You huffed but stayed still trying to listen to the answers of the Vilda and Rubiales but it was no use.

You heard your name a couple of times but since you didn't have any context you chose to ignore it – that was until a fuming Mapí León with an equally fuming Leila Ouahabi hot on her heels came blazing into the room both of them throwing some words at Vilda and Mapí even went so far to crawl onto the table separating the trainers from the reporters. Seconds later an angry looking Alexia entered the room just in time to grab Mapís ankle and pulling her back and away from the spanish national team coach. She tried to get her players under control by pulling both of them back by the hem of their jerseys. Mapí was kicking and screaming like a five year old – of course in spanish so you didn't understand a word – the only thing you understood was when Mapí yelled “mi Nena” - but when you looked at Vildas face it told you everything that you needed to know. You looked flabbergasted to Sarina who looked just as shocked and shrugged her shoulders before you turn towards the reporters where some just shook their head in disbelieve.

The post-match conference was ended pretty quickly after that and you basically jumped over the table sprinting out of the room past Keira and Lucy – who were waiting for you outside the room – towards the spanish locker room. This time you weren't as friendly as before and bolted through the door without knocking even tho you could hear Alexias angry voice half way down the corridor. The second you threw the door open the whole team looked at you and everyone fell silent – even Alexia.

“What the fuck just happened?” you looked at Alexia lost

“Cariño I love you I do... but this is something we have to talk about internally” Alexia said softly

“Mapí was about to strangle that mop in front of thousands and you say this is an internal thing?” you raised an eyebrow

“He called her a “lost little child who wears shoes that are to big for her and she's useless”... mi Nena knows EXACTLY what she's doing... mierda we lost FIVE zero...” Mapí started to rage again and you became big eyes

“Mapí ENOUGH” Alexia scolded her “Everyone SAW what she did and her head coach isn't a useless... culo like ours... there's no need for you to defend her... she has Lucy for that”

“But Lucy didn't do anything...” Mapí said outraged

“Because her spanish is shit and she probably didn't understand” you shrugged accepting the water bottle Ona held out for you “And the way you hesitated at the word “culo” means it's bad and I'll definitely save that down in me brain”

“No you won't Bebita” Ona smiled sweetly but you know just like with Keira it was a warning “Bad word”

“Then Alexia has to do push-ups... that the bad word rule!” you exclaimed and Alexia looked at you unimpressed

“I'm an adult... I can say whatever I want” the blonde spaniard said flatly

“Rule applies for everyone Capi” Jenni now grinned “Down on your hands and knees you go”

“What does culo mean?” you leaned over so you could whisper in Mapís ear

“Asshole” Mapí whispered back

“That'll make 15” you looked at Alexia “That word is an A-grade swear word.. A-grade swear words make 15 push ups...”

“I most definitely won't do any push-ups...” Alexia rolled her eyes

“But I always have to do them” you whined

“And look how much more your arms and shoulders are defined since I last saw you” the spanish capitan smiled and pinched your cheek

“You suck” you grumbled pushing yourself behind Ona to seek cover from her prying hands

“No little one... that's me... she's more the...” Jenni smirked but before she could end the sentence she got punched very hard in the shoulder by Alexia

“Come on Bebita... let's get you back to the Lionesses...” Ona said lovingly already pushing you forward slightly “Say bye-bye”

“Ass-dios” you waved which caused the younger players to explode in laughter – including Jenni – while Alexia threw you a death glare as Ona quickly pushed you out the door

“Keira...” Ona yelled seeing Keira down the corridor

“There you are!!! We where searching the whole place for you!!” Keira exclaimed the second she laid eyes on you “Don't you ever do that again!!!”

“I was just at the spaniards and pretty spaniard taught me a new word” you smiled at the blonde proudly

“Don't even” Ona warned you

“What happened?” Keira turned towards the blonde spaniard

“She suddenly kicked in our locker room door... and didn't except “it's an internally affair” from Alexia” your sisters girlfriend shrugged her shoulders

“Uh Kei...” you pulled on her jacket a little bit “Alexia said an A-grade swear word... and she refused to do push-ups”

“Really now... we can't have that now can we?” Keira mused sensing that you started to get tired and pulled you into her side winking at Ona before turning around slowly leading you back towards the Lioness locker room pulling out her phone to text Lucy and Leah that she “found” you

“You little shite...” Lucy started immediately but got cut off by Keira

“Leave her be... she's dead on her feet” the blond said firmly basically carrying all your weight your head on her shoulder

“Come here Bubs” Lucy exhaled deeply hoisting you away from Kei into her own arms cradling you like you were a three year old again while Keira got all your bags

“How bad is it outside?” your sister asked Leah who sneaked a look outside looking at the crowd waiting for the players to emerge from the stadium walking to the bus

“Nothing we're not used too...” the blonde capitan shrugged

“I'm asking because of her” Lucy nodded towards your sleeping form in her arms slightly drooling on your sisters jacket “If she gets startled half the team won't get an inch of sleep tonight – you remember the drama after the France game?”

“Wait... I get the noise cancelling headphones” Mary said thinking quickly pulling already on Rachels headphones getting them off her and carefully sliding them on your head.

You quickly got startled by the sudden loss of hearing but Lucy had you under control quickly by manoeuvring your head into her neck. The moment you smelled the familiar scent of your sister skin you relaxed again becoming boneless in her arms.

“She's so out” Keira chuckled

“You surprised?” Lucy answered hoisting you up a little more “Fuck me... this was easier when she was 3”

“No shit Sherlock” Millie deadpanned “Gimme... I'll carry her”

“Naah – we're good” your sister said but smiled at her teammate thankfully “I'll just bring her into the bus and then come out to sign some stuff...”

“You don't have to – you're not obligated to do so and you know it” Leah said seriously

“I know... but they waited long enough now and she'll be good once she's inside the bus” your sister answered “Let's get this show on the road”

As soon as the doors opened the fans went wild – as usual and Lucy was so SO thankful for Marys quick thinking of putting the noise cancelling headphones over your ears. Your sister walked quickly with you in her arms towards the bus disappearing inside it. She disposed you into her own seat asking the bus driver if he could have half an eye on you. Of course he agreed quickly being a fan of you himself with all the shenanigans you came up with all the time.

Your eyes fluttered open slowly and you were met with – darkness. Darkness and softness. You bolted upright searching for your phone in the dark. Getting more arrogated which each passing second you knocked over a bottle of water which caused a light to get switched on and you were met with the sleepy looking form of your girlfriend.

“What you doing baby?” Georgia asked her voice raspy

“What are you doing in my room?” you asked confused “Why am I in my room??”

“Firstly... that's my room... secondly... you were out like a light once Keira found you and then YOU wouldn't let go of me shirt and Keira got Lucy to agree to let us room for tonight under the promise that I won't touch you in any “not biblical” form” your girlfriend informed you

“Wait... what day is it???” you looked at her confused

“What?” Georgia asked equally confused

“Day baby... what DAY is it?” you looked at her like you're going to have a mental breakdown any second

“Still Wednesday... game day.. 23:48... why” G answered keeping her voice even to not set you off further

“Oh thank fuck” you sighed “Get ready... come on... take your phone”

You ushered your girlfriend out of her bed – not without ogling her body for a second longer that would go through as “biblical” - and then out of the room up a floor hiding behind a corner taking out our phone.

“23:52... perfect” you grinned

“What have you planned??” your girlfriend whispered in your ear from behind/above you which cause a shiver to run down your spine

“Welcoming Sarinas new year of age” you swallowed hard trying not to think what you could do now with your girlfriend instead of hiding waiting for the pipers to come down the corridor.

“Oh god... WHAT did you do??” G whisper yelled “If I get in trouble for it...”

“Please... as if I let you get in trouble” you snorted spotting the first piper stepping out of the elevator

“Oh god... oh god no... no no no no no” your girlfriend mumbled with wide eyes having spotted the piper as well “You didn't”

“Oh I so did... mi Vida” you grinned evilly

“Me what?” Georgia asked confused

“No idea... Lucy always calls Ona that – probably something dirty turn ons in spanish” you shrugged your shoulder “Where the fuck are Toons and Less?? And Jill... where is Jill?”

The moment you said it you saw your two best friends sprinting down the corridor, little party hats askew on their heads another set in their hands. Less was carrying some glitter bombs and confetti canons.

“We're not late” Toons panted coming to a halt in front of you “What she doing here?”

“I'm her girlfriend??” Georgia said confused

“Still doesn't answer me question... you don't get to bake in our fame” Ella said annoyed holding out a party hat for you which you immediately placed on your head

“Fame? You really think that going down well for you?” your girlfriend snorted nodding towards the piper who just set up their bagpipes.

“Of course... that a birthday she'll never forget” Lessi answered grinning widely “Can we start?”

“No.. we still missing Jill” you pressed taking Georgias phone to look at the clock “23:59... come on Jill”

You heard the “ding” of the elevator and surely enough there came a big three story birthday cake wheeling out with a widely grinning Jill Scott pushing it down the corridor towards you.

“Where were you?” you came out of your hiding – which was useless anyway since Toons and Less stood right in front of you – speed walking towards Jill smashing a party hat on her head.

“Had to think about something to get the room card” your Godaunt and most trusted adult friend – after Keira – said pulling out the little plastic card from her back pocket

“What did you say?” you snorted Jill could come up with the best backstories

“Want to surprise my wife for her birthday” the older woman smirked back “easy in the nights since there are only teenage boys covering Front Desk”

“We'll leave quickly after we delivered our present so you two have some alone time” you smirked

“Thank you Cookie – we very much appreciate it” the dirty blonde laughed “You guys ready?”

All of you nodded and Jill very VERY carefully pushed the card into the electronic lock waiting for the signature “click” before pushing open the door. You had Georgias phone ready and when Jill gave you a thumbs up you started recording. The pipers shuffled into the small hotel room and on a small cough from you they started piping “Auld Lang Syne” and not even five seconds in the light next to the bed got smashed on and a completely demolished Sarina Wiegman sat in her bed, blanket pulled up to her chest, glasses askew from being placed quickly on her nose, hair standing in every direction like she just got electrocuted her eyes wide in shock. The pipers went seamlessly over to “When the Saint go marching in” before finishing with “Scotland the Brave”. The second the little private concert was over Toons and Less let the Glitter bombs and Confetti canons explode right over Sarina – and her bed – all of you yelling “Happy Birthday”.

Your plan was nearly perfect. Get glitter and confetti all over Sarina before bolting. What you DIDN'T think off – pipers where loud. Very loud. Waking up most of the squad in process. Like Leah. And Lucy. And – most dangerously – Keira. So the moment you wanted to bolt you were met with a LOT of Lionesses. Angry looking Lionesses. Angry looking Keira. You locked eyes with her and after a second ducked behind Toons before sinking down on the ground trying to army rob out of the room hoping everyone was too distracted by everything that's going on. Oh boy where you wrong – of COURSE Keira saw you the second you tried to rob out of the room placing herself right in your way. You looked up when you hit her legs with your head which you kept down so it wouldn't been to obvious who was pressed in that room – which was overflowing with players now. Niamh and Toons already got cake in their hands (plates were overrated at this point) as Leah tried to control the chaos. You bumped into Keiras legs and looked up scared to be met with two angry glaring eyes. You tried to quickly rob backwards just to get stuck in Millies legs.

“I don't think so, y/n Bronze” Keira seethed pulling you up by your ear “Are you actually mad? Did you finally lose your plot? Why in gods name...”

“Hey Kei... you want cake... it's chocolate” your sister interrupted Keiras rant holding a hand full of cake right under the blondes nose

Keira just looked at Lucy then to you and back to Lucy who smiled like a happy kid with her handful of cake.

“I don't know if I should yell at both of you or just give up...” the blonde shook her head

“Keep calm and eat cake” Lucy smiled pushing her hand closer to Keiras face who automatically moved her head out of the way

“No thank you... it's in the middle of the night” the blonde said a little disgusted

“And?? You think we ever get away with eating cake in the middle of the night ever again??? Embrace the moment Kei... USE the moment” your sister said before she pushed the handful of cake into her mouth and you listened to what your sister said and used the moment to carefully sneaked away from Keira.

You tugged on Georgias shirt at your swift exit and she followed you just as quickly

“You know you're in big shit tomor... today... today morning... later... in the morning” your girlfriend rambled

“I know... but so worth it” you smiled and the second you two were through the door to the stairs case you pulled her back on her shirt kissing her deeply

“Not that I'm complaining...” Georgia started once you parted again “... but what brought that on?”

“You still had a little frosting..” you smirked pointing at your own lip “... I think I better check for more frosting once we're back in our room... you are a messy eater after all”

“I.. I think I dropped some of the cake...” your girlfriend stuttered a little bit and you could see her eyes darkening

“Yeah... thought so...” you smirked starting to walk up the stairs towards Georgias room when you suddenly feel your feet leave the ground and your girlfriend hoisted you over her shoulder

“What are you doing??” you laughed loudly as Georgia sprinted up the stairs

“You're a slowpoke sometimes” your girlfriend said exiting the staircase sprinting down the corridor on your floor before fumbling with the key card to open the door

“Open you stupid door” your girlfriend grumbled you still hanging over your shoulder snickering

“Let me down... makes it easier” you laughed slightly

“I nearly got it... wait a second” Georgia mumbled but a second later you heard her kicking the door

“Baby come on.... let me down” you laughed louder lightly poking her rips

“But don't run away” your girlfriend said her voice a little whine

“As if” you snorted and felt her scrunch down to put you on the ground before she came up again and you were face to face with each other

Your eyes quickly flickered down to her lips before looking at her eyes again. Before you could make up your mind you felt Georgias lips on yours kissing you deeply and you couldn't suppress a moan which your girlfriend used to slip her tongue into your mouth. She pinned you against the door her hands against your hip she used her whole body to keep you were you currently were. You on the other hand fished the little plastic card out of her hand where it poked into your skin and opened the door behind your back without even looking. The door opened with a small “beep” and you smirked against your girlfriends lips.

“Show off” Georgia mumbled against your lips and pushed you backwards into the hotel room already pulling your shirt over your head

“Fuck” you panted as your back hit the mattress next to your girlfriend a light sheet of sweat covering your body “THAT...”

“Better than the last time?” Georgia smirked smugly her breathing coming out laboured

“Nothing can top last time Babe... but you tried” you chuckled turning your body so you were pressed into the blondes side tucking your head into her neck feeling how her arm sneaked around your back pulling you closer

“I mean... I can try again” you heard the smirk feeling how her hand started to wander again “and again... and again... and again”

“No... please don't... you tried enough for tonight” you chuckled as Georgia stroked lightly over your ribs tickling you slightly before pushing her hand away positioning it on your hip

Georgia showed mercy just rubbing her thumb soothingly over your hipbone pressing a soft kiss to your hair

“You only getter better with training...” your girlfriend smirked then yelped as you poked her side

“You telling me I'm bad at what I'm doing?” you pushed yourself up onto your elbow looking down at her raising your eyebrow

“No no no no...” Georgia quickly said pulling you back down this time on top of her holding you tightly to her chest

“Mhm... that's what I thought” you mumbled closing your eyes relaxing against the blondes chest just enjoying the time you have with your girlfriend without needing to worry about your sister interrupting

You felt Georgia wriggling around under you which caused you to lift your head – again.

“Really? You still want to... again?” you look at your girlfriend expectantly

“No... I actually just tried to get the blanket” Georgia laughed as she finally got the hem of the blanket and pulled it over the two of you “... wouldn't want to deliver you back to your pit bull-like sister with a cold”

“DON'T mention my sister right now... that doesn't.. no.. just no” you grunted

“Sorry...” your girlfriend chuckled

“You're disturbing my post-orgasmic-bliss” you complained whining

“Sorry... I can... I don't know... make you forget that I just said that?” Georgia smiled her hand starting to wander towards your ass again while the other grabbed your breast teasingly

“Gosh... you really are impossible” you rolled your eyes prying her hand off your breast

“I mean... did you see my girlfriend? I can't help meself” the blonde grinned pulling you a little upwards to press a kiss to your lips

“Mhm... I did see her... still don't know how you scored her?” you teased smirking

“I didn't... she's stubborn... but I'm glad she threatened to break me legs if I don't pull my finger out of me ass...” Georgia murmured kissing you softly and smiled

“Did she now? I should talk to her... apparently she knows how to keep you in check – you can be quiet... defying” you grinned letting her kiss you over and over again

“Excuse me?” your girlfriend exclaimed acting upset

“Mhm... didn't my sister told you – multiple times I might add – to keep your hands away from me?” you grinned kissing her this time

“I CAN keep me hands to meself” Georgia smirked “Question is.. would you want that?”

“Such a rebel aren't you...” you smirked kissing along your girlfriends jaw down her to her neck

“Have me moments” Georgias voice betrayed her as she clearly getting turned on again

“Mhm.... Keira told me” you smirked against her neck before biting down slightly

“Keira??” this time it was G who got sober immediately

“It's a turn off isn't it... hearing about them” you grinned sitting up now straddling her waist

“Yes” your girlfriend grumbled “What did that wanna be ginger told you?”

“That you got your first tattoo the day after you turned 18” you smirked the blanket loosely draped around your hip

“SHE roped me into it!” Georgia exclaimed sitting up as well

“Oh really?” you smirked down on her taking her face in your hands kissing her softly “Do tell”

“She just got a new one and because she knew Mama Walsh will have her ass she convinced me to get one too... then after the next england game she hugged her mum and of COURSE Mama Walsh immediately saw it” your girlfriend told you rolling her eyes “And the next thing I know is she pulled me over by me sleeve “Georgia has one too – and she's basically a baby”... then Mama Walsh had me ass too”

“She played you...” you laughed loudly “.... she played you so hard”

“Yeah... I had to stand there for 12 Minutes getting lectured by Mama Walsh about the risks of tattoos...” your girlfriend grumbled

“To be fair... when Mama Walsh has it out for your ass you better find someone who you can distract her with” you shrugged still grinning

“Yeah... she can be scary... but I'm still sure she loves me more than Keira” Georgia grinned straining her neck a little so she could steal a kiss again

“Bet she loves ME more than all of you” you smirked pressing a wet kiss to her lips

“Yeah yeah... you're everyones favourite” your girlfriend rolled her eyes again but the slight smile never leaving her lips

“G... I... have a question” you hesitated a little bit

“What you need, baby?” Georgia asked softly but seriously

“I want a tattoo... I want you to do it” you blurted out

“What?” your girlfriend looked at you dumb folded

“I want you to tattoo me.... I know what I want and where I want it...” you said seriously

“Baby.... I can't do that” Georgia looked up at you as you stare down at her with a little betrayal in your eyes “... first.. I never inked someone and secondly... Lucy and Keira would definitely kill me... and third.. you're 16...”

“Then I'm gonna be your first like you were mine...” you grinned and with each passing second it got wider “... Lucy and Keira never need to know... and my Birthday is in two weeks”

“Which still makes you underage” your girlfriend pointed out and you heard that you slowly wearing her down

“I can get you Lucys signing if you want... like... setting up a document that she's not allowed to kill you” you smiled widely

“I tell you what... If you get that done I'll seriously think about it” Georgia said and you leaned down kissing her softly “... but I'm not doing anything big”

“Don't worry... nothing big...” you promised scratching your girlfriends neck lightly

“And where?” Georgia kissed your neck softly

“Right...” you took her hand laying it on your left side guiding it up to the point where your bra would sit “... here”

“A rib tattoo? Baby... that's a bad idea... that will hurt like a bitch” your girlfriend murmured against your neck kissing her way down to your collarbone

“I can take it... I really want it” you said breathlessly

“Maybe somewhere else?” Georgia mumbled kissing her way further down her destination clear

“That's the only place Luce won't see it immediately” you now outright moaned “Fuck”

“Mhm” your girlfriend hummed sucking your hard nipple into her mouth

“You just can't... fuck...” you started to complain but your voice betrayed you once again and your hip rocked forward on its own accord

“You want something baby??” Georgia asked after she let go of your nipple with a wet pop

“More... please” your head fell onto Gs shoulder your hips still rocking in her lap

“More?” your girlfriend smirked starting to knead your other breast

“Please” you whined

“Fingers or mouth baby?” Georgia basically growled against your skin getting slightly possessive

“Fingers” you whined lifting your hips a bit and Georgia got the hint letting her hand slip in between your legs

“You're gonna be good for me?” your girlfriend growled starting to mark your skin with small bites not enough to leave a constant mark like she'd like to

“Yes... but please” you begged and whined trying to get her fingers inside you but her hand laid still between your legs

“You won't come without permission will you baby? You'll wait until I tell you that you can come, right?” Georgia playfully bit your nipple

“I won't... I promise” you moaned rocking your hips down trying to find some pressure relieve

“Good... and you won't becauseeee...” your girlfriend teased your entrance with one finger

“Yours” you whined desperately

“Mine what?” Georgia nudged the underside of your jaw with her nose

“All yours...” you nearly broke “... G please”

“Ssshh baby... I've got you” your girlfriend soothed you slipping her finger into you

“Fuck” you whimpered feeling Georgias digit enter your heat

“Mhm... so wet... so hot... so desperate” Georgia mumbled against your jaw kissing her way to the point just under your ear “All for me or is there someone else?”

“No one else” you panted against her shoulder

“Are you sure baby? No one...” your girlfriend bit down lightly “... someone spanish maybe... Jenni Hermoso maybe?”

Your hips rocked down hard on her finger your rhythmic movement faltering for a second before it picked up again

“Hmmm...” Georgia hummed pleased “... maybe that could be arranged one day”

“Fuck...” you whimpered

“Bubs??” you heard suddenly through the door loud banging followed

“Fuck” you looked at Georgia shocked her face just as frightened

“BUBS?” Lucy said a little louder

“What??” you yelled back your hand covering your girlfriends mouth

“You okay? You were gone suddenly” your sister spoke loudly

“Yeah... just... didn't wanna wait till Keira recovered from her confusement” you tried

“Can you maybe open the door?? I'm standing here like an idiot” Lucy sneered

“It's... not the best time Luce...” you whined “I'm... about to go shower”

“Well... then let me in and shower then” your sister wasn't giving up and you knew it

“You can also go back to your own room” you said helplessly

“Can't... Less has the key card and I don't know where Less is” Lucy groaned

“Lucy please... just... go somewhere else” you whined back even knowing all mood was gone

“You are my sister... why would I go somewhere... wait a second... where is Georgia?? Is Stanway with you???” your sister exclaimed

“No for god sakes Lucy... I just want to shower in peace... fuck off now” you yelled through the room and suddenly it was quiet

“Fuck me... she really knows how to ruin the mood” you grumbled lifting yourself off your girlfriends lap who was still rooted in her place “Unbelievable”

“That was close” Georgia stammed still a little scared

“Yeah well.. I was too...” you continue to grumble mostly to yourself until... you heard the signature “beep” of the door – your head shot up first to the door then to your girlfriend who spotted the same frightened look as you

You quickly threw on a shirt and gestured to Georgia to hide – which was ridiculous since it was firstly her room and secondly there wasn't really anywhere for her to hide

“Hide” you whisper yelled panicked while you threw a shoe at the door trying to block it

“Where??” Georgia whisper yelled back looking around just as panicked

“I don't know” you pulled on some shorts quickly

“Bubs... you blocking the door?” you heard Lucys voice and already saw the crown of her head trying to make its way inside the room

“Why would I??” you answered and tried to sound annoyed watching your girlfriend ripping open the door of the closet “Really?? You wanna hide in the wardrobe??”

“You have a better idea?” your girlfriend hissed back

“Bath or Balcony?” you looked at her confused

“Bubs... the door is stuck” your sister complained again

“You are stuck you muppet” you shot back pushing your girlfriend outside on the balcony

“Yeah well maybe you open the door then” Lucy said annoyed

You quickly went over ripping the door open looking at her expectantly

“What you want and where did you get that key?” you grunted at her

“Wanted to make sure you okay – you're on Sarinas list now... and key... Leah – as the capitan she has a universal key” your sister shrugged her shoulders “Jesus Christ Bubs... open the windows would you... it seriously stinks in here”

“I will... I just didn't want to come back from me shower into a cold room” you lied weakly “you saw that I'm alright now... so... good night”

“Yeah since I don't know where Less is... can I crash at yours?” Lucy rubbed the back of her neck embarrassed

“No” you exclaimed before clearing your throat “I mean... that's a little inconvenient Luce...”

“I'm your sister” Lucy exclaimed rolling her eyes

“I know and I love you... seriously... but I just want to shower and go to bed.. I...” you said trying to come up with an excuse “... I... have this... woman problem you know....”

“Your period?” your sister asked confused

“Yes...” you nodded slowly

“And? Gosh Bubs you really scared me there for a second... you need anything?” Lucy said lovingly

“Just... peace and quiet... please” you basically begged her at this point

“Geez okay... I'm already leaving...” your sister said and you noticed she got all defensive

“Luce” you whined

“No it's okay... you're a grown up now... you don't need me anymore” Lucy said already half way through the door

“That's not true.... Lucy come on...” you said again trying to calm your sister down

“Keira said I need to let you spread your wings... WINGS Bubs... not your legs okay” your sister said and pointed at you threating

“Okay Ew... that's disgusting” you pulled a face disgusted

“Exactly... sex is disgusting... never take part in it” Lucy said happy with herself

“Yeah...” you said embarrassed “... you're too later for that I'm afraid”

“Good... now go shower and then to bed... Sarina will blast through your door in... four hours” your sister smiled quickly checking her watch

“What does Sarina want?” you ask confused

“You're on her list... you gonna run” Lucy smiled before disappearing into the corridor again

“Fuck me” you exclaimed whining closing the door making your way to the bathroom

You just stepped under the shower when you remembered something important

“FUCK” you quickly jumped out of the shower wrapping yourself in a big fluffy towel before speed walking through the room opening the balcony door again pushing your head outside looking at your girlfriend who was just covered by a thin blanket standing pressed into the corner of the outside space

“Lucys gone” you smiled innocently ushering Georgia inside

“Do you know how cold it is in England this time of the year??” your girlfriend said her teeth chattering slightly

“Yeah I know... I'm sorry... but come on... I already turned on the shower for you” you smiled

“Gosh I love you” Georgia said pressing a kiss to your forehead heading towards the bathroom

“Oh and babe... Sarina will kick our door down in about four hours...” you nonchalantly called after her and you heard a crashing sound

“WHAT??”

[thatsdemko]

just an incident - m.verstappen

masterlist

requested: n

pairings: max verstappen x leclerc!fem!reader

warnings: hints of some friends to lovers trope + google translated French and Dutch + wrote this BEFORE the Monaco 2023 gp!

a/n: I cannot remember who it was that said most Dutch don’t use nicknames like “angel” or “baby” but I didn’t feel like changing the pet names so my apologies 😬 had a lil dream about this so enjoy xx

it really wasn’t supposed to happen. at least you didn’t want it to happen, but he most certainly did.

growing up he was your brothers biggest competitor and challenge. race tracks weren’t the same when max verstappen was on the circuit, and that was still true to this day. max became a menace and impossible to beat in that Red Bull, it made loving him in secret and supporting your brother in public harder.

because every race meant listening to that Dutch national anthem while your brother told off his team for the shit race. it meant spending long nights in the Ferrari garage rather than the ones in his hotel room celebrating his victory. loving max verstappen was not easy.

“mijn engel wat zit je dwars?” he asks, fingers gently brushing down the skin of your back. you’re sitting upright in his bed, pillow covering your chest as you scroll through the chain of text messages from your brothers. you could never have a peaceful evening alone without one of them calling or texting. my angel what's bothering you?

“mes frères.” you grumble tossing your phone into the pile of clothes on the ground before relaxing against his chest, “but I’m all yours now.” you press a kiss to his jawline, watching those beautiful green eyes close in contentment.

“why don’t you tell them about us? are you that worried?” his arm wraps around your shoulders allowing you to sink further against him. he knows Charles would have heart failure hearing his baby sister was more than just a friend with max, and it would give him all more of a reason to push him off the track or do risky overtakes. racing wouldn’t be the same for Charles or max, and maybe he hadn’t thought of that, but you certainly did.

“I’m more worried that I’d be stealing his boyfriend from him.” you joke watching the lines around his eyes crinkle, smile forming on his lips. you loved that smile dearly.

“we broke up a long time ago.”

—

“you go missing? been trying to call you for hours.” Lorenzo doesn’t even need to look up from his computer to know it’s you entering the house. just by the sound of your silent footsteps and nails tapping against your phone, he knew it couldn’t be anybody else.

especially since he began to pick up you were beginning to be late or no shows recently. you would push off family dinner for said alone time or show up to family game night a half an hour late. he wasn’t one to budge into your life and ask the questions, but seeing as things were drastically shifting he felt he needed in.

“what? no, just needed some extra sleep.” your lies weren’t getting any better, he knew the high pitch tone and small stutters were nothing but false words.

“you think to run a brush through your hair?” he scoffs seeing the snarls and tiny mats that you didn’t notice. you’re lucky your mother wasn’t home or else she’d have fainted at the sight.

“why are you in my business?” you ask making him finally look up from his laptop to see the purple faint bruises against your collarbone. there was no sleeping in for you, and he couldn’t help not fighting the smirk against his lips as he pulls the cup of coffee up to try and mask it.

“just go take a shower before Charles and Arthur come home, please?”

you listen to his request and find the warm water against your aching body and sensitive skin comforting. his nail marks at your hips were fresh, the pull in your groins were painful in the steam, and the purple bruises at your collarbone weren’t going to be easy to cover up. it was evident max wanted your family to know about him, whether you would actually drop his name was up to you.

the thick sweatshirt of Arthur’s that you stole covers what you wanted, and the baggy sweatpants you borrowed from max masked your shaking quads with each step. maybe you did miss being home, but you were missing that Dutch accent and being under the gaze is his big green eyes.

“when did you get back?” Arthur asks, head peaking into your room where he sees you tapping away on your phone, a little smile evident against your lips.

“this morning. how was work with Charles?” you turn around to see him moving in your room. Arthur was like your best friend, growing up one year apart, he was the closest thing you had sometimes, and lying to him about your relationship wasn’t easy.

“good, we ran into max.” even his name made your heart skip beats, you shifted uncomfortably against your bed trying to not make it obvious you were eager to hear how he was— despite having seen him only hours ago— or if he mentioned you.

“and?” you ask swallowing nervously, Arthur shifts against the doorframe with a shrug, “he’s alright, just prepping for Monaco.”

you let out a tiny sigh of relief nodding, “good for him I guess, I kind of hope he loses.” you lie biting your tongue and hear a laugh from Charles across the hall, “me too!” he calls out.

—

“you hope I lose? I heard that rumor by the way.” his voice startled you making you turn around to face him. he’s in his suit and tie, dressed his finest just like yourself. the expensive gala you were in was packed to the brim and you had lost all of your family members minutes ago when you spotted the Red Bull drivers appearance.

“you know I want you to win.” you move a little closer to him, his hand discreetly rests against your hip and he presses a friendly kiss to your cheek that you wish could be a little more than that in public.

“hoe gaat het met mijn meisje?” he leans into your ear, the soft whisper leaves a tingling sensation down your spine making your body curl closer to him. how’s my girl?

“il manque juste ta touche.” you reply, hand resting against his chest, nervously adjusting his crooked tie. you know people are staring and cameras are recording, but under his gaze you feel protected. those big hands and aggressive demeanor would go to war for you against anyone here. just missing your touch

he chuckles under his breath, “you have all of me, my love.” his lips press your temple quickly, before excusing himself to shake hands with Sergio Perez, his teammate.

you move out of the way when the cameras begin to flash and interviewers move in to ask questions to the Red Bull drivers. you find yourself watching from the sidelines beside Daniel, but his eyes always find you. a wink in your direction let’s you know he hasn’t lost sight.

“flirty with my man?” Daniel nudges your elbow gently, making you break your stare at the lady who’s getting to close to max for a picture.

“flirty? no, he was winking at you.” you laugh watching max pull Charles in for a photo with the two drivers. three of them smiling proudly for the cameras before Charles pulls away, a little dizzy from all the flashing.

“hm, I don’t recall him making sexy eyes at me in our contract.” daniel pushes you in the direction of max. now that the photos were done, you could tell he was looking for you, but of course Charles whisks him away before you both can close the gaps between each other.

“you think you’ll win in my circuit?” charles jokingly asks. pulling max out from the mass crowds of people, you were trailing behind the two of them pushing through bodies to join them.

max scoffs, “I can’t predict the outcome of this race, mate. we’ll just have to wait and see.” the Dutchman sees you push through a few people and he extends his hand to help you before you stumble into Carlos.

“yeah, well with my luck I’ll be last.”

“no Oscar and lando will make sure you aren’t.” max chuckles, the two make faces at each other before the tipsy giggles escape their lips. you wish all nights were like this, the two of them happy and not pinning each others successes for their failures.

“what will you do if you win?” you ask Charles stepping a little closer to their conversation watching him think. you look up at max who’s thinking through if he should put his hand against your back, maybe pull you closer to him.

“I don’t know yet. maybe take maman out to dinner? this is all hypothetical.”

max nods, hand finally resting against your lower back, “well if I win I think I’ll take a special someone out for dinner.” he pulls you closer to his chest, your arms unconsciously wrapping around his torso.

“oh? who is that?” charles asks, and it has yet to hit him. he’s clueless to Max’s hand resting on your ass, your arms around his torso, and his lips pressing into your hair. charles was clearly oblivious.

“me, idiot.” you scoff finally getting his attention, his eyes scan each part of your bodies and how close you were together. he looks lost, like a puppy trying to find home as the dogs finally connect with what’s in front of him.

“no! when did this happen?!”

“it was just an incident.” max shrugs, there was no other way to describe it. the pieces just fell into place and max verstappen somehow became the man you loved more than just in the dark, he was someone you were beginning to love in public.

“don’t use my words against me.”

[adventuringblind]

Mr. Blue Sky

Charles Leclerc x Reader x Max Verstappen

Genre: Fluff

Request: Yes, I loved every second of this. Y'all are welcome to send me your own ideas :)

Summary: After Max gets cheated on, he can't stand being in the house where it happened. Reader and Charles take him in and show him he's still loved.

Warnings: cheating

Notes: No hate to Kelly. I just needed this as a plot point.

Fun fact: my mom calls Valentine’s Day ‘legislative love day’ and will only do any remotely related activities on the 15th because she has a point to prove.

Masterlist

The sound of Charles' phone buzzing at an ungodly hour is what you woke up to. The room is still pitch black, and you can hardly make out Charles in the bed.

He rolls over and pucks up the phone. "It's Max." He states. Voice filled with the sleep from which he was dragged.

He answers the phone, and you curl up into him, hoping to listen in. "Max? Are you-"

You can hear faint mumbling and the occasional choked sob on the other end of the line. "Breathe, Max. I'm going to come get you. Can you stay on the phone with me?" Charles is throwing off the covers and looking for his car keys.

You look at Charles for some sort of answer. To which Charles pulls the phone away from his ear and kisses your head. "Kelly cheated. I'm going to go get him."

You nod your head in understanding. You clamber out of bed and see Charles off to the door.

Your grateful that Monte Carlo is a small city and that it doesn’t take long for him to come back. His body shouldering a drunk Max through the door.

Max is no coherent and reeks of alcohol. His eyes are puffy and his cheeks tear stained. His lips tremble as them mutter words neither of you can understand.

Your heart hearts for him. You and Charles had made an effort to be around the Dutch. You both actively became friends with him and found yourselves in each others company often.

And did you both end up falling for the same pair of blue eyes? Yes.

It was actually Charles who brought it up first. You’d never considered the idea of being with more then one person. Then you got to know Max and you found yourself considering more often then you’d admit.

Neither of you knew if Max would ever be into that and neither of you wanted to ask. The possibility of ruining what is currently a good friendship was not on the to-do list. Plus, he had Kelly and P.

You shake of your thoughts and help Charles get Max into the guest bed. You and him do your best at cleaning him up and making him comfortable despite the fact he is less then cooperative.

When you two are finally back in your own bed, Charles sighs in pained defeat. “She cheated on him while he was out with P.”

You cringe in disgust. “Has it been going on long?”

“Apparently so. About four months.” Charles climbs further into the blankets and pulls you into his chest. “He gave her the apartment. He was out late because he didn’t know where to go.”

“We could offer him a place here for the time being.” You suggest. The slightest hint of a smirk playing on your lips.

“Pretty sure you are just wanting to see more of him.” He chuckles. “But yes, I think it’s a good offer until he figures things out.”

“Don’t lie, you stare at him all the time! You’re going to be the one who outs us.”

“Shush amour. I’m exhausted and I know you are also. Now sleep.”

~

The week brings interesting events. Max does take the offer to move in, though he’s been quiet and reserved since he started staying with you. Max, Charles, and Lando went back to, now Kelly’s apartment, to get his stuff.

He comes back into the house crying. His heart shattered and the apartment a mere reminder of the events that occurred.

Your grateful it’s the off season and Max will hopefully have some time to process before the start of the new season. You and Charles don’t push him and give him space when he needs. Though you also invade when you can see he’s spiraling. Desperate attempts at not letting him go into those dark places are often just you being in the same room as him.

~

By the time Christmas rolls around, he’s doing the slightest bit better. He’s been out of the room more and you haven’t had to force him to eat. He decorates the apartment with you and Charles.

It’s disastrous.

The three of you can’t stop laughing at the mess you’ve made of the decor.

The three of you spend Christmas Eve with Charles’ family. Max hadn’t wanted to go home to his less then festive father and Victoria was away with her in-laws.

You obviously weren’t going to leave him alone and Pascale had been thrilled when he said he’d come to dinner.

You could tell he felt awkward and out of place at first, but everyone did their best to make him feel welcome. Soon he was relaxing, sipping on his drink and engaging in conversation.

~

Christmas and new years had gone by to fast. January had now descended and the cold weather had yet to completely let up.

Originally you thought Max would be out by now. That he’d want his own space as soon as possible. It’s not like he couldn’t afford it. Yet he stayed and you and Charles welcomed him in.

Max was seemed like he was healing. His eyes had regained their light. The one they lost those first days of December. He definitely hadn’t moved one though. You and Charles could still hear the soft sniffles from his room at night.

He may be smiling, but he’s still broken hearted.

The most interesting new additions are the cats. The felines that are Max’s children. He would probably murder for his cats and become the next John Wick. There is something wholesome and sweet about his interactions with his pets.

Charles on the other hand has a bad relationship with animals in general. Small felines included. He like them, they just don’t like him back yet. Max has been letting him feed them until they realize he is nice.

You also have learned that you can share meal prep with Max. You’d banned Charles from it after he tried once and failed miserably. Max isn’t the best in the kitchen, but he helps out and cooks some nights.

~

February. The month of love.

Everything around reminds Max of what happened. How he will not be doing anything special for the holiday. He doesn’t even want to go out of the apartment and you and Charles have to drag him to go get fresh air.

The fateful day comes around and you and Charles have agreed to keep it small.

Corny, sweet, and romantic is Charles definition of a good day and treats you accordingly.

You try to get Max to come eat something but end up just leaving it at the door.

Despite what people may think, Max is romantic at heart. Charles learned this last year when the Monegasque asked him if he was doing anything with Kelly for the holiday.

You and Charles are lounging on the sofa with a movie playing in the background. His arm draped around you and mouth pressing silly kisses along your jaw.

“I can feel your worry radiating from here.” Charles stops his kisses and you roll your eyes at him in response.

“He’s not eaten all day and I’ve heard him crying. Just wish I could help is all.”

Charles hums in your ear. “We could see if he wants a distraction.” He punctuates his sentence with a cheeky smile.

“Charles Perceval Leclerc! You can not seriously be suggesting what I think you are.” You playfully bat his arm. “I highly doubt he would neither want that or like that.”

“How about we ask and then go from there.”

“I think you just want him to fuck you.” This time it’s your turn to give a cheeky smile.

~

This is definitely not how you envisioned asking Max about this would go. His teary eyes haven’t looked away from Charles since the pretty male started talking.

This left you in an odd place of trying to read his reactions and getting absolutely nothing.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to or if you’re not into it. We would completely understand.” Charles laughs but you can tell he’s nervous. His body language betrays him.

Max looks between the two of you like he’s considering something. “You’re telling me you’ve both been crushing on me since last year? And I didn’t notice?”

“You’re very oblivious at times.” You shrug.

“That’s fair but also not the point.” Max stands up out of the bed and starts pacing. “I just don’t understand why me. You two are amazing people and you’re so great together.”

“Y/N has a numbered list of reasons in her phone that we’ve created in case this ever happened.” Charles looks at you expectantly but Your already pulling up the list.

“-please don’t read it I’m already blushing and that will make it worse. Maybe one day but not now.”

All of you freeze at the fact he insinuated a future.

“Does this mean you like us back?” Charles almost purrs. He’s so flirty now but if this goes farther then just a confession tonight he’ll be stuttering and weak in the knees. You know from experience.

Max is the stuttering mess right now however. He’s lost all of his words and is simply gesturing with his hands.

“Breathe Maxy, take your time.” He manages a few and usable to get a grip on his thoughts.

“I’ve to confess something first.” You both look at him expectedly but don’t push him. “The reason Kelly cheated on me is because she’d found a journal of mine. It was a thing my therapist told me to do and so I did. When you two started coming around more, I fell hard. For both of you. I wrote about to hopefully understand myself better and get the thoughts out of my head but they stayed and I hated myself for it. She read it and thought I cheated first so she just did it back.”

He’s in the verge of tears again but you and Charles can only stare I’d utter disbelief. Apparently, both of you are also oblivious.

“Please say something.”

“I think it must be fate.” Again that smirk is tugging at Charles lips.

The air in the room is replaced by a new tension. The kind Charles was originally insinuating before you three started talking.

“So about that proposal then…”

Valentine’s Day definitely couldn’t have ended any better.

[ninyard]

The monsters and their ability to pick up languages is so interesting to me so here’s some random HCs about monsters + languages that are definitely not original at all:

- Neil learned French in Europe before him and Mary found their way to French-speaking Canada. He essentially had to semi-adopt the language discrepancies while he was there, and even though his fluency is in French from France, sometimes he messes up and pronounces things weirdly or differently (and Kevin frequently makes fun of him for it)

- Kevin has some rusty Japanese that he was forced to learn growing up. He can understand it pretty well, and can somewhat speak it to a lower level, but he can’t read or write it. He’s not fluent, and probably couldn’t hold a conversation with a native speaker, but he could understand his Japanese counterparts in the Nest when he needed to.

- In turn Kevin isn’t able to order in Japanese at a restaurant, but he could explain the rules of Exy to someone fairly coherently if he had to.

- This isn’t an original thought by any means but Neil and Kevin definitely speak in French when they’re by themselves just to make sure they don’t lose it.

- They sometimes make calls to each other on the court in French, and because of this, most of the team picks up very basic calls in French. None of them can actually speak it, but Andrew picks up a little more than the rest, having spent so much time with Kevin. Again, couldn’t hold a conversation, but every now and again he recognises certain words in their conversations.

- Neil is like a walking version of those White Guy Speaks Chinese And Stuns Waitress (he can understand her?!?) polyglot youTube videos. It becomes more of a hobby for him once he’s settled and the FBI are off his back, but the foxes are constantly shocked by how many languages he can speak. He is fluent in English, French, and German of course, with some conversational Spanish, but he can pretty much have a basic interaction in most of the languages of countries he’d been in. His Dutch is the worst, because he could never quite grasp the proper pronunciation of things, but one time he speaks to a waiter in Italian and Andrew can’t believe it.

- (RIP Neil Josten, you would’ve loved duolingo)

- When he goes to the Olympics he’s like a kid in a candy store. It’s like a subconscious bingo game for him to speak to someone from every country at least once.

- Aaron loves listening to music in German. He would definitely drag Nicky to a rave if they ever found themselves in Berlin.

- Katelyn asks him whenever they have their kid if he wants to raise them bilingual, but he decides not to because he only really learned German for Nicky and his brother, and doesn’t really speak it at all after he graduates.

- Neil and Nicky study Spanish together sometimes. It helps Nicky stay close to his roots now that his immediate family is pretty much out of the picture. It means way more to him than Neil even knows.

- Another unoriginal one but Andrew and Neil definitely do learn sign language in the future. I could talk about this one forever.

- When Kevin gets frustrated, he finds it hard to speak ANY language. He messes up words in English, forgets how to say things, and occasionally is the butt of the joke when he combines a French and English word accidentally.

- Kevin watches anime when nobody is around. He thinks dubbed anime is a crime.

- Andrew thinks he’s pretty good at German until he tries to have a conversation with Erik and realises wow native speakers talk a lot faster than we do. You wouldn’t know, because even if he just understands half of a sentence, he can usually piece together what is being said 90% of the time, and he would never admit out loud that he needs Erik to slow down when he’s talking so he can understand him.

- He is, however, REALLY good at accents. He has a talent for speaking gibberish but sounding as if he’s speaking fluent French. It drives Kevin up the wall when he does it, but he also hates when he can’t understand what Kevin and Neil are saying to each other.

And Bonus:

- Jeremy is really bad at accents. He is initially frustrated by Jean and his French, but once he understands that it is Jean’s first language (that the Moriyama’s took from him), he makes an effort to try and learn. He’s just really, really bad at it. Jean cringes every time he tries, because he speaks with a heavy American accent. Jean is not pretentious about his language, but he is, at the end of the day, French. So when Jeremy says bonjour in that hideous so-Cal accent, it’s in part endearing that he’s trying, but mostly like nails on a chalkboard.

[wobblesthecowgirl]

I'm No O’Driscoll!

Chapter Two: Six Point Cabin

Tags: Arthur Morgan x Femreader, enemies to lovers, O'Driscoll reader, game plot, Arthur doesn't have tuberculosis, eventual smut, age difference, 18+, mild gore

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: Hello again! Chapter two is a lot longer and we are kinda getting into it. I know Arthur and reader hate each other but you can't rush enemies to lovers!

Chapter One

Chapter Three

Days had gone by and Y/n hadn’t eaten a proper meal. In fact, she wouldn’t have had anything if it wasn’t for Mary-Beth feeding both her and Kieran scraps of food when the other gang members weren’t looking. Y/n always made sure to thank her, repaying her kindness with respect. She doesn’t have to do that, but she’s got a good heart.

Arthur and Dutch had tried asking about Colm a few more times but without being fed, the two O’Driscoll’s were too tired to respond (that and Y/n was too suborn. She hated this gang as much as the other one). Today however, seemed much different.

It was sunny, a light breeze and the birds were chirping, it would’ve been a calming day if it wasn’t for the predicament. Arthur strode towards the two of them and stood in between the two trees. When she was tied up, the gang made sure Kieran and Y/n couldn’t reach one another, their feet being only a foot apart from each other.

“When is this going to end…” Kieran whined as Arthur got to them, not ready for another day of questioning and torture.

“You both got some speaking to do of your own, about that old gang of yours.” He folded his arms like he always did, which Y/n rolled her eyes at. Here we go again.

Kieran was standing again, whereas she couldn’t, her thigh slightly better but due to her condition, it was healing slower than it should. Kieran groaned, “I said I told you. I don’t know nothing.”

Arthur shook his head, the tiny rope on his hat swung with it, “That’s what I thought.”

Dutch came striding over, his voice cheerful and booming, causing the woman to jump.

“Hold your horses there! It seems the cat has got our friend’s tongue’s.” He stood with Arthur, with a bigger guy before continuing, “I was thinking Mr Williamson could have a word.”

Y/n eyed him carefully; she had been trying to get as much information on everyone, being sat doing nothing makes you people watch. She was sure this guy was called Bill. He had a creepy grin on his face and pointed at Kieran.

“We can start with you. You ready to talk, boy?”

“I told you mister, I told all of you. I don’t know nothing, ok?” He sighed, “Th-They ain’t no friends of mine. I just been ridin’ with them for a while.”

Bill interrupted him, his spit flying out his mouth, “Bullshit! You’re close with this O’Driscoll, and you told us you weren’t close with any of them! So how about you tell us the truth.” He turned to the gang’s leader, “Dutch, what do you want me to do?”

Y/n’s heart dropped. This interrogation session was different than the others, it was much more sinister.

“Hurt him. So the next time he opens his mouth, it is to tell us what is going on.” Dutch’s mouth was twisted into a sly smile, his voice dripping with ill intent.

“Who am I kidding? One of the O’Driscoll’s boys couldn’t open his mouth, but he’d tell a lie.” He got in Kieran’s face before turning to Bill, “Screw it. Let’s just have some fun,” He made a cutting motion with his fingers, “geld him.”

Bill cheered as Y/n pulled at her restraints, “No! You get away from him!” She screamed as Dutch laughed down at her.

“Maybe you’ll talk for him!”

“What’s he doing? Where’s he going?” Her friend panicked, watching Bill bring a pair of long tongs from the fire.

Arthur hadn’t said anything, only stood watching the scene unfold before him, waiting to see who would crack first.

“Oh, don’t worry. They’re only balls boy! Just gonna cause you trouble.” Dutch began to ramble about Rome but the two hostages weren’t listening, instead watching Bill cheerfully make his way over. Kieran’s trousers and pants were then pulled down, and Y/n made sure to look up, in attempts to save the poor boy’s dignity.

“No, no, no, no! You’re kidding right?” Kieran cried, trying to back away but the tree blocked him.

“You disgusting pigs!” Y/n snapped, still wriggling and kicking, her thigh screaming at her to stop.

“You sick bastards! What do you want from me!” Even Kieran was swearing now, fear causing him to sweat profusely.

“Well, you are going to talk. The only question is now, or after we get these little fellas off?” The three men were surrounding Kieran. The pair of tongs getting closer, yet he still wasn’t cracking.

“Ok! I’ll tell you!” Y/n shouted; she couldn’t sacrifice her friend getting hurt over a gang who didn’t even realise they were missing. All the men turned to her, the weapon getting a bit further away from him.

“Six point cabin.” She stated, and when they looked at her she sighed, “That’s where the O’Driscoll’s are. That’s where Colm is lying low.”

The men seemed satisfied, as Bill shouted at Kieran, “Why didn’t you tell us that first, boy?”

“I didn’t know the location!” He whimpered, still keeping an eye of Bill’s hand, and trying to cross his legs.

“But I know where that is! I can take you there. I don’t like him. I mean, I like him even less than I like you. No offence.”

“Oh, none taken.” Dutch cackled. Arthur finally joined in on the conversation. He leant down to Kieran and said, “Ok then, partner. Why don’t you and your friend take a few of us up there. Right now.” He untied Kieran who quickly pulled his trousers up, and Arthur approached Y/n.

“I ain’t helping you!” She spat, her not shot leg kicking out in protest. She could hear him grumbling as he untied her, and when she refused to stand, he grabbed her bicep and forced her up. His grip was purposefully strong, but she couldn’t focus on that, instead, she focused on the fact that she couldn’t stand or walk properly. Being sat for days on top of her wound made her useless.

“I got this, Dutch. Should be fun.” He reassured his leader before turning his attention back to her, “Alright you, come on. Can you walk?”

“What does it look like?” She gritted her teeth, limping slowly to what she assumed was his horse after watching him ride to camp on it. She could feel him chuckling behind her, “Well at least I ain’t gotta worry about you running away.”

Another snide remark from this man and I’ll kill him on pure adrenaline and a pocketknife.

Kieran jogged over to the best of his ability to help her, but she held her hand up to stop him. She didn’t want to appear weaker than what she already did, and if the two kept acting close, the gang would use that against them like how they already did.

“Let’s hope you both ain’t trying to trick us, O’Driscolls.” Arthur warned.

“We ain’t no O’driscoll.” Kieran corrected which only caused the older man to snap back, “But you sure as shit was.” After that, he called for John and Bill to tag along, and Kieran gave them the directions.

“John, you take this little rattlesnake with you. Any nonsense, kill him.”

John nodded, pointing to his horse so Kieran could hop on.

“Don’t do anything rash.” Y/n called out to him as John sat on the front of his horse. Kieran nodded at her as if to say ‘same to you’.

“You’re with me, woman.” Arthur got on his horse, and looked down at her. She looked up and from this angle, she could see how his stubble was neatly kept and his moustache was slightly longer. His eyes were light and the were small scars dotted across his cheek.

I can’t wait to put a bullet through his head.

She grabbed the saddle but winced when she shifted her weight to her bad leg. With a grunt, Arthur extended his hand which only caused her to raise her chin at him.

“You can put your filthy hand away, I don’t need your help.”

“Well, it sure looks like you do. Stop being so stubborn, girl.”

“I hope you drop dead on this mission.” She spat, pulling herself up in an awkward manner, seating behind him with as much distance as she could get. Why does he have to have the biggest horse known to mankind?

“Are they taking us to Colm?” John asked as the three horses galloped out the camp and through the trees that gave comforting shade to the summer’s sun.

“Look, I-I-I’ll give you more directions when we’re close, but if I know where we are, it’s up past Valentine.” Kieran strutted as John moved further up for the rest of them to follow. Y/n tuned out the men the entire ride there, all she heard was talk about throwing knives, O’Driscolls, and horse shit. Instead, she watched the dust kick up from the hooves of the horses, the leaves blowing in the wind, and the occasional people passing by.

Arthur asked Bill if he still had the tongs, to which he replied with the fact he had a knife.

“Keep that in mind, young fella.” He yelled at Kieran, “Right in the forefront of it.”

“What about the woman?” Bill asked; Y/n saw him shrug.

“I’ll just shoot her other leg. I doubt she’ll get far.” His voice found humour in this, and she could only grit her teeth at how helpless she was. She was stronger than this, much stronger, and these idiots didn’t even know it.

“It’s passed these hills. Better get there before I get your gun.” She threatened and couldn’t help her smirk as she saw him instinctively reach for his holster. They stopped their horses at the clearing and planned to reach the cabin from foot. Arthur got off first and looked at her, wondering if she was going to ask for help. Of course she didn’t. Instead, she swung her leg over and jumped down, falling to her knees from the sudden impact. She kept her pained cries inside, only earning a small grunt. Kieran made his way over and helped her back on her feet, which this time she didn’t push him away. When she was steady, Kieran began to walk towards the cabin’s location.

“There’ll be a bunch of fellers hiding out there too.” Kieran stated as the group were crouched behind a log, peering into the woods. A couple of men were further than the rest, taking a toilet break against a tree.

“Are these fellas armed?” Arthur asked.

“Armed. Drunk. Wary of strangers.” Kieran nodded.

“And Colm O’Driscoll?”

“Most likely.” Y/n intervened, “Probably passed out sleeping soundly. After a day of bossing people to their deaths.”

The three O’Driscoll’s continued to talk to one another as Dutch's group tried to conduct a plan. The O’Driscoll’s got close, so John grabbed Kieran and covered his mouth with a gun to his head. Arthur did the same. His giant, calloused hands roughly gripped Y/n face to silence her, the other hand on her shoulder. She could feel his breath on her ear, but she didn’t move a muscle. Not because she was scared, but because doing so would be pointless. If she screamed, either John would shoot her, or her former gang mates would.

“I’m gonna let go of you now, if you so much as move an inch, I’m shooting you in the head this time.” He whispered in her ear, as she stifled a grunt, her eyebrows knitted together. He slowly let go, making sure she didn’t move, and began making his way over to the enemy with his throwing knife, stabbing all three with Bill. John turned to Kieran and Y/n, his eyes narrowed.

“I need to help them. You two stay here, if you try to escape we will hunt you down. Understood?” Kieran nodded while she only rolled her eyes; she was getting tired of all the empty threats. They watched as John descended down the hill.

“We can’t keep doing this, man.” She spoke up after a quick breather, her leg aching. He only hummed in response, too busy trying to get a better look of what was going on. As she scoped the scene, a familiar shine in the corner of her eye caught her attention.

“Is that..” It was. It was a sniper rifle. It was the first time she had a genuine smile. Oh, what a beautiful sight, a beautiful sight that is now mine.

She hopped down the hill, carefully as to not alert either gang, and picked up the gun. Its cold metal only warmed her heart, as she looked through the scope and nodded her head; it wasn’t the best, but it’d do. She heard her friend scramble after her, not wanting to be left alone.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” He scolded, the both of them a bit startled at the sudden loud bangs of guns at the cabin.

“What do you think? I’m going to scope that big grunt and get us the hell out of here. We can wait till they kill all the O’Driscolls, then I aim from a distance an-“

“No! Being alone is too risky! We would get hunted down! Our best bet is to warm up to the Van Der Linde gang and-“

It was her turn to interrupt him, she looked like she had been shot a second time, “What? Are you insane! Have you lost your mind?”

“I’m trying not to lose my head!” He snapped back, much to her surprise. He rubbed his eyes, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. Just… hear me out ok?”

“They will kill us after today you know? We gave them what they needed, Bang. Bye bye us.”

A twig snapped, the two of them now on high alert. An old O’Driscoll had a gun pointed at Kieran, but Y/n quickly head shot him within milliseconds. He thanked her, a hand to his chest.

“Come on, we are sitting ducks here.” She began to limp to the cabin, the gunshots had died down significantly. When they got there, the place was littered with dead bodies.

She made her way to the wooden shed and saw the rest of them there. Arthur had his back turned; it would be so easy. She aimed her rifle at him, just as he got knocked down by a frenzied O’Driscoll with a gun pointing down at him. Saves me a job, she first thought, but Kieran’s previous words nagged her. Nagged and nagged, before she huffed in annoyance. Damn you, horse boy.

She shot the man on top of Arthur between his brows, he went limp, and Arthur pushed the now dead body off of him; blood had splattered on his coat and face. He laid there for a moment, not even acknowledging her, before getting up and peering his head inside the cabin and was suddenly filled with rage. He stormed towards her, his face red.

“You set us up! Come here!” He was towering over her now, their anger mutual.

“No she didn’t!” Kieran tried to defuse the situation which only made Arthur angrier.

“You both did, Colm O’Driscoll ain’t here!”

“If I wanted to set you up, I would’ve used this very rifle in my hand to shoot you dead!” She seethed, raising the rifle as proof she did just in fact save his life.

“She has a good point, Arthur.” Bill butted in, sort of on her side. Arthur paused for a moment, seemingly taking in the situation before shooing her away and saying, “Alright then, go on, get out of here.”

“Eh?” Kieran puzzled, stepping closer to Y/n who only furrowed her brows at him. A trap? Get our back turned to shoot us?

“I’m letting you run away, now go on. Get out of here.”

“Don’t need to tell me twice, come on Kieran.” She was about to walk off, or hobble away, when he grabbed her wrist.

“That’s as good as killing us. Out there, without you, Colm O’Driscoll’s gonna lose his mind about this.”

She groaned, sick of this argument, and Arthur didn’t seem too pleased either, only asking, “So?”

“So, we’re one of you now.” He stated, earning a scoff from Y/n.

“Oh please.”

He shot her a warning glance and for once she obeyed. Arthur rubbed his eyes before murmuring, “Give me a break.” He looked at them both, thinking hard about his next decision.

“Alright then. But I’m warning you both…”

“We get it!” Y/n groaned, throwing the rifle on the ground to his feet so he didn’t keep going on.

“You fellas get to camp, quick. Hey Bill, you tell Dutch, old Kieran and little Y/n ain’t worth killing. Just yet.” He stated, already making his way inside the cabin to find the money stashed in the chimney.

Y/n got on John’s horse this time with said man, deciding the man with the giant scar on his face was still better than Bill, who only this morning was excited to burn a man’s balls off.

“Don’t think for second you’re one of us.” John barked as they began their journey back to camp.

“Trust me. I’ll never have the desire to be accepted by any of you.” She scoffed, all of them going silent as the sun began to set, and the cold air giving her goosebumps.

[margowritesthings]

The Greatest Gift III: She Sleeps

SERIES MASTERPOST

pairing: Arthur Morgan x f!reader word count: 1017 words warnings: teeth-rotting fluff, tbh this made me cry a/n: just a cute lil drabble for my favourite family in the world

taglist:@cowboydisaster@inkandbloodbound@beea-nie@cloudynoiire@punctillous@missvanderlinde@twola@pine4pple-b0i@alice-vanderlinde@photo1030

The newly appointed Uncle Dutch stays for a little while, admiring his new goddaughter until he and Arthur notice you struggling to stay awake. You’ve drifted off completely by the time Dutch hands Jade back to her father and congratulates the pair of you once more, returning to his tent to gush over the new addition to the gang.

Sleep overtakes you completely and utterly, your body so exhausted from the last nine months you could probably sleep through a riot. That much is proven about an hour later, when Jade stirs in her cot and begins to cry, the very first time in a long, long period of sleepless nights for the three of you. Her little screams pierce the formerly tranquil air, the trauma of waking up in the real world seemingly alone not really agreeing with her.

You’re normally not such a heavy sleeper, where the snap of a nearby twig or Uncle’s less than melodic singing, no matter how far away, is enough to wake you. But exhaustion doesn’t begin to cover how your body aches right now, how it longs for rest and clings onto it with a mighty grip when you finally get it. You don’t even stir.

Arthur, on the other hand, is woken instantly, paternal instincts already setting in ferociously. He looks down to you, smiling to himself when he sees you’re sound asleep, just about managing to untangle his limbs from yours without waking you and pressing a kiss to the top of your hair. When he gets off your shared cot, he makes sure to wrap the blanket back around you. 

“Hey, little lady…” he whispers, almost apprehensively as he walks towards his daughter, hands raised in the air as if he’s approaching a spooked horse. Force of habit. “It’s all right, baby girl… Daddy’s here.”

To Arthur, Jade is made of glass, and he lifts her into his arms as such. His precious, fragile little masterpiece, who makes him feel bigger and more brutish than he ever has before. He sits in the chair at the foot of your cot, Jade settling in his strong arms like she was made for them. She was, Arthur thinks, he just never realised until this moment. That’s all it takes for Jade to stop crying: her daddy, who would lasso the moon for her if it meant she could see the stars a little brighter. 

Even in the dark of your tent, Arthur can see her eyes glistening up at him, and can still make out her tiny features. She’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, save for you, of course. 

He thinks of Isaac for a moment, and how he held him like this precious few times, vowing that his memory will live on in the way that he will protect Jade from the evils of the world no matter what stands in his way. He will do for Jade what he failed to do for his son, in his honour. 

Breaking the silence settling around your little family, you moan softly in your sleep, turning onto your side. It draws Arthur’s attention to you again- not that it would ever be too far away- and he smiles to himself, entranced by how peaceful you look, how beautiful you are.

Jade reaches up to Arthur’s chin, pressing tiny fingers against his stubble and capturing his attention once more. The quietest of chuckles escapes his chest, a smile so pure stretching his lips. 

“Ain’t she beautiful, baby girl? I’m so damn proud of her…” Arthur physically winces when he realises he just cursed to a 4 hour old baby, but will later realise he should be the last of his own troubles, what with her having a dozen outlaws for aunts and uncles. “Sorry…” he hums, glancing between his wife and daughter to direct the apology to both of you.

“But I am. Proud of her, that is… We’re the luckiest two people in the whole world, little lady, cause we got her…” 

Apparently finding her father’s chin to be a little scratchy (with Arthur making a mental note to shave first thing in the morning), Jade reaches out into the open air, and Arthur can’t help but reach right back. He adjusts his hold on her, freeing one hand to let her grip her tiny digits around his singular finger. He feels like a giant, but he’ll be damned if his heart isn’t pounding right out of his chest at how happy he is right now. 

“You’ve got the best momma in the whole world, you know that? And I… Well, I’m gonna do everything I can to be a good papa, baby… Everything I can.” 

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t terrified. Arthur has owned a fair few front row tickets to displays of how not to be a father, from his own Pa to how easy it has been for Marston to mess up again and again over the years. And hell, he’s never seen anyone raise a little girl before. But as he promises, with his entire heart and soul, he is going to do his absolute best to be everything he can be to Jade. 

“Hey, and I hope you know how loved you are, little one. Your momma and I… God, I can’t even tell ya’, baby… You were a surprise, I’ll tell ya’, but we love you so much…” She’s squeezing around his finger as hard as she can, leaving the tiniest crescent moons from the smallest fingernails Arthur has ever seen. 

“You both did so well today… you were both so brave, huh? My brave girls…” He whispers, his words riding a content sigh. Jade’s eyes begin to flutter shut, her eyelids too heavy for her little self to fight. “You get some sleep, darlin’... I’ll be here when you wake up, I promise.”

The moon is falling fast, and it’ll soon be sunrise, but Arthur just can’t bring himself to sleep and miss one second of this night, watching his girls and silently promising them the world. 

[bombshelllblonde]

rdr2 head canons about modern technology, social media, etc-

dutch is convinced the 5G is ruining our brains, covid vaccines are just microchips, all the right wing conspiracy theories are correct. he owns a flip phone and uses t9 word to communicate. texts that arthur and john receive look like this “COME HOME SON. ND 2 TLK ABT PLAN. DO NOT REPLY”

hosea has an ipad, a kindle, a laptop, a home PC, and alexa echo, an amazon fire tv, a smart fridge, etc. he is actually one of those old guys who accidentally went viral one time on tiktok and he has a loyal following

the video that went viral was jack recording the fight that broke out in camp between hosea and bill. that video got over 1 million views and everyone loved it

jack helped hosea make his own tiktok account and he immediately gained followers overnight

arthur is the “hot son” who doesn’t like to be on hosea’s tiktoks. arthur always turns his back when hosea tries to include him in the videos

john is the other son that actually wants to be on camera but Half of hosea’s comments are “where’s the hot cowboy, we don’t want the greasy one”

sean pretends to be a twitch streamer and only plays truck simulator or untitled goose game. he has about 300 viewers and he gets money just because of his accent

charles has a facebook but it hasn’t been updated since 2009. his profile picture is a stock photo he found online of a bison with one of those BLM frames around it. his youtube recommendations are just asmr pottery making videos

bill gets into fights on reddit constantly. moderators have banned him from almost every subreddit he has joined, except for two sentence horror stories. he loves that subreddit too much so he leaves it alone

lenny has 76 unopened text messages from the last 6 months. his gmail account has over 20k emails

trelawny loves snapchat. he loves a multi part snapchat story rant from the inside of his tesla, while he is wearing the cat ears filters. he sets the tesla to auto pilot so he can use both his hands to speak and record and animate the retelling of the “bullshit from the starbucks drive thru”

javier is strictly android

tilly is strictly apple

kieran got a hand me down blackberry phone and still uses it to this day. no one understands how it still works

ok well that’s it

bye

[g4sstationdr-gs]

Blood Splattered Teardrops

ghostface!sam x reader. reader is afab. warnings; smut, oral (f receiving), finger sucking, knife-play, blindfolding, blood, murder, obsession, manipulation.

word count - 5,397

NOT PROOFREAD

a/n; this took so long for no reason and is low key bad but..

Chapter Three

You dial Sam’s number and wait anxiously for him to pick up. Your mind is racing and you don’t know how you didn’t piece it together sooner. Sam finally picks up and you sit up straight. “Y/N?” He says and his voice comes out concerned. “Sam, I know who did it.” You say and Sam feels his blood run cold. “What?” He asks, trying to keep his voice calm.

“I know who killed Josh.” You stand up and start to pace around your room. “It was him. The guy from last night. He was there.”

You say. He nervously shifts his body as he listens to your response. He doesn’t think you know that it’s him. Right? Sure, it’s slightly suspicious that he ran off and didn’t come back for a while, but he has a good excuse.

“He was there? Are you alright?” He asks, worry evident in tone. He knows you’re fine, he didn’t hurt you. He couldn’t bring himself to ever hurt you. You give a simple ‘mhm’ on the other end of the line and he lets out a sigh of relief. “Well how do you know he was there? Did you see him?” He asks

You feel yourself blush and you clear you throat “um.. I know he was there because we kind of… had sex?” You say in the form of a question. You brace yourself for his reaction, which you know it’s going to be good. He’s probably make his way to your house to yell at you.

“You did what?” His tone is full of anger and shock. “Are you fucking crazy?!” He yells into the phone and you have to hold it away from you a bit. You tell his chest his heaving as he breathes based on the way he’s huffing into the phone. “Y/N. Were talking about someone that broke into your house is possibly stalking you and killed Josh! And you.. what? Wanted to get laid so bad you chose him?” His tone irritated.

You stop your pacing and your brows furrow. Did he just say that to you? “Excuse me? You have no idea what’s going in my head right now! Why would you say that?” You yell back at him. Where is this coming from? Sam doesn’t usually talk like this so it’s shocking to you.

He scoffs. “That’s honestly sad. I’ve done everything I can to comfort you and try to keep you safe and you go and sleep with him.” He throws the insult at you. You feel anger bubble in your gut. You’re very rarely angry at Sam, but right now he’s acting like a dick. You take a deep breath to collect yourself before you yell at him.

“What is your problem? I can do anything that I want.” You say sternly. You expected some sort of a reaction out of him, but never this. “Can we talk about how he killed someone and not about how we had sex!” You just want to talk to him about it so you can figure out what to do next. Obviously the cops are going to talk to you both soon and you want to communicate with him.

You hear him scoff. “Sure. Was it before or after he fucked you?” He says smugly. That was the last straw for you. You hang up the phone and turn it on silent. You angrily toss it onto the dresser and flop down onto your bed. You feel like screaming and cussing him out but you don’t have the energy. You don’t know where all this is coming from, but it’s pissing you off.

You decide that you just need to sleep it off and that you’ll talk about it in the morning when he picks you up. You roll over and turn the desk lamp off, and the dark takes over your room. You close your eyes and try to sleep but your mind is consumed with the events that went down.

All you can think about is the way he kissed you. The way he touched you. The feeling of his hands on you, the way his lips felt against yours. You huff and turn over to the other side. You shouldn’t be thinking about it. It should be just a one and done thing, but you’re dwelling on it. Every time you close your eyes you think about it. You know it’s going to be a long night of restless sleep.

You wake up in the morning with a headache and you can feel the bags under your eyes. You throw the covers off of you and sluggishly walk to the bathroom. You brush your teeth and do the normal things you do to get ready for school. Your mom has breakfast waiting for you in the kitchen. You eat it and take some medicine for your headache. You make your way outside to wait for Sam.

Some time passes and he hasn’t shown up yet. You chew on your bottom lip and look up and down the street, expecting to see him. He’s ten minutes late at this point and you’re at risk of being late for school. “Asshole.” You say and go back inside the house to have your mom drive you to school. You know how stubborn Sam could be, but you also know that he’ll talk to you eventually. You arrive at school and thank your mom.

You start to search around for Sam, but you can’t find him. You want to talk to him about what happened at the party and on the phone, but since he didn’t pick you up this morning you couldn’t. You get the feeling that he’s avoiding you after last night. You sigh and you round the corner when you spot him, except it’s not what you expected to see. He’s making out with Taylor, one of the popular girls in your grade. You freeze and you feel you heart drop. He has his hands on her waist and he’s holding her against him. You feel your chest burn with jealously, which surprises you.

You’ve always felt something when it came to Sam, but you’ve always brushed it off and saw it as a certain connection you two have as best friends. Now you’re realizing the full truth. You have feelings for him. Your heart pumps in your chest as you stare at Sam kissing her. Any hope you had of him liking you disappears. You wanted to talk things out with him but he wants to make out with some girl.

You turn on your heel, your sneakers screeching along the floor as you do so. You know that Sam most likely heard it, and is looking at you right now, but you don’t care. It shouldn’t matter to you, you had sex with some other guy and you had the right to. Just like Sam has the right to kiss anyone he wants. That’s what’s frustrating you. You know that you shouldn’t react like this, but you are.

You walk into your class room and immediately everyone starts staring at you. You hear the hushed words and take in the looks os disgust and some of sympathy. You take a seat at your desk and try to focus on getting your stuff out of you bag. The whispers continue and you feel your eyes burn with tears.

“She definitely killed him. She was the last one seen with him. plus, he texted her. The cops have all the proof they need.” One of the girls, Jessi whispers. Everyone looks at you and start whispering to one another. You know the way it must seem to everyone. If you weren’t a victim yourself, you’d probably blame you too.

You sigh and lay your head down. The past few days have been a blur of events and emotions. You’re tired and wish things would go back to the way they were before. Sam sits next to you in this class, but right now you’re not all that excited to see him. You already feel the headache forming again and know it’s going to be a long day.

The bell rings and you hear Sam sit in the seat next to you. You look up at the teacher as she starts to teach the class. You can feel Sam’s eyes on you, but you don’t look at him. You’re shaking your leg anxiously and he notices that. You just want to get out of here and go home. “Y/N.” Sam whispers and you turn your head slightly to look out of the corner of your eyes.

He’s holding out a piece of paper in your direction. You glance towards the teacher and you take it from him. You open it and you read it. “I’m sorry.” It says. With a little sad face next to it. You look over at him and he gives you a pouty face. You roll your eyes and look back towards the teacher. A few seconds later another piece of paper is thrown on your desk.

You open this one with a sigh and your heart squeezes when you read it. “I’m serious. I shouldn’t have said what I did. Can we talk?” You look over at him and he mouths “please.” You look back at the paper and flip it over. You write “After class” on it and hand it to him. You see him grin and shove it in his pocket.

You focus on class the rest of the time. Knowing that you’re going to talk to Sam after eases your anxiety a bit. He gives giving you notes that has doodles on them and you can’t help but smile. You can’t be mad at him for too long, and you know he’s truly sorry for what he said. The class comes to an end and you gather your things.

Sam is waiting outside of the classroom for you. He smiles and walks you to your locker. He opens his mouth to speak when you feel someone bump into you, causing you to drop your things. You look up and see Leigh, one of Jessi’s friends snickering. You roll your eyes and bend down to pick them up when you hear one of them mutter “murderer.” Before walking away.

Sam tenses and glares at them. You straighten again and press your head against the locker door. “What was that about? Have they been bothering you?” He asks. You can tell by his tone and how tense he is that he’s mad. You nod and grab your textbook from the top of your locker. “They were whispering about me before last class started. It doesn’t matter, everyone is gonna talk and point fingers.” You say quietly before you turn to him.

He leans against the locker and smiles softly at you. “I really am sorry for what I said last night. I was just worried and stressed out and I said stuff before I thought about it. You didn’t deserve that, I know that you’re just as scared and confused as everyone else. You don’t have to explain yourself unless you really want to. I won’t ask questions, as long as you’re safe.” He says. You can tell that it’s slightly awkward for him to apologize, because he doesn’t do it often. That just makes it all the more real. You smile at him. “Thank you. I appreciate it. And I am safe. Don’t worry.” You shut your locker.

“Just don’t leave me hanging in my driveway again to make out with Taylor.” You say and you watch as the smile on his face drops. He runs his hand through his hair. “About that-“ You cut him off by shaking your head. “It’s fine. I don’t want to hear about it. I’ll see you later.” You turn to go to your next class and leave Sam standing there. You’re glad you got to talk but you’re still slightly hurt.

Sam watches as you walk away until you disappear from view. He turns his attention to the girls that were bothering you earlier. He walks in their direction. He passes by them and he mutters “Sluts.” They both gasp and look at him. He just smirks and walks away. He knows who he’s going after next.

In your next class you’re talking to your friends Ellie and Cata when a police officer walks in and ask to speak with you. You knew it was coming sooner or later but it’s still embarrassing when the room goes silent everyone looks at you. Cata gives you a smile and whispers “good luck.” You smile back and get up to follow the officer.

He brings you into the office where the principal and another officer is. You sit down and give your statement. “Me and Josh were together at the beginning of the party, i’d say for like two or three hours. Then my friend came and got me to show me something outside. That’s when Josh was alone-“ The officer cuts you off. “Which friend?” He asks.

“Sam. He brought me outside to show me the stars. Then he went back inside to get us drinks and didn’t come back, so I went inside again. I actually don’t know where he went..” You say and your mind starts to race. Where did Sam go? Before you can dwell on it anymore the officer asks you what you did when you went back inside.

You take a breath. “I started looking for Sam when I got a text from Josh. He was telling me to go upstairs, so I did. But it wasn’t actually Josh up there. It was someone else, I don’t know who because they were wearing a mask.” You say and the officers exchange a look. “Are you the girl who was attacked the other night?” One of them asks and you nod.

You watch as the officer writes something on his sheet. You’re starting to get anxious. “What happened when you saw the person?” The officer asks. You don’t know if you should tell the truth, because it’ll look bad on your part to say you had sex with someone who tried to attack you. They’ll think you’re crazy, and maybe you are. You shift in the seat. “I um.. I ran. And I hid. After a while I finally went back downstairs and that’s when Sam found me again, and took me home.” You finish speaking and wait for the officer to stop writing.

He looks up and he dismisses you from the office. You walk out and you feel too anxious to go back home. You ask the front desk lady to call your mom to come pick you up. Your head hurts, you’re shaking and you want to cry. When your mom arrives she feels your forehead to see if you’re sick and helps you put your stuff in the car. The car ride is silent on the way home. She understands you’re stressed and scared, and you don’t have to explain it to her. You know that when you get home, you’re going to take the best nap of your life.

Nothing happens over the next few days. Theres been no other killings, or not spotting of the masked man. Everyone thinks that maybe he got scared he was going to get caught and stopped. But you have a feeling in your gut that it’s not even close to the end. Your mom snaps you out of your thoughts when she calls your name. You look up at her and she hands you a cookie. “Me and your father have to go to one of our friends birthday gathering tomorrow night. You’ll be safe, correct? You now know the password to the weapons safe.” She says and looks at you with a pointed look.

You smile and take a bite of the cookie. “I’ll call Sam over to hangout with me.” You say and she smirks. “About Sam. You’re with him a lot. Do you.. like him?” You blush and choke on the cookie. “Mom!” You yell and cover your face. She laughs and leans against the counter. “What? I’m just asking. You have other friends you know? Not just Sam.” She says and gives you another look.

You shake your head and get off of the stool. “I’m going to my room.” You say and you hear her laughing as you go up the stairs. You call Sam when you get up there and ask if he can come over tomorrow night. “Yeah I can. But I might be an hour or two late because I have to help my dad with the stupid house. You’ll be okay for a few right?” He asks. The thought of being alone scares you a bit. But you won’t tell him that.

“Yeah, I should be fine. Thanks, Sam.” You say and you hang up the phone. You bite the inside of your lip as you think of the possibilities of the man showing up. If he hasn’t been around, maybe he hasn’t had a motive to show up? You shake your head to rid of the thoughts. You know thinking about it will only stress you out. Sam will be there for you. And he’d be able to get there before anything happened. Right?

The next night rolls around and your parents leave for the party. You wait up in your room to get the call from Sam that he’s on his way. You play some music and read a book to distract yourself from the feeling you have. You keep looking towards the door and the window anxiously. You sigh and put the book down, knowing you’re not going to be able to focus on it. Time is stretching on as you wait for Sam. He’s usually done with his part of the work quickly.

Instead of Sam hammering away at his fathers house he’s staring at Jessi Minks as she backs away from him in fear. He grips the knife in his hand as he stalks towards her. His mask is already stained with the blood from Leigh, who he’d killed previously.

Jessi tries to back away slowly and look for a way out. She tries to run to the left but Sam swings the knife at her, and it cuts her arm. She stumbles backwards and trips over the table. Sam takes it as an opportunity to grab her. He yanks her towards him and stabs her in the gut. She lets out a cry of pain and Sam leans down into her ear.

“You bitches don’t know how to be nice to anyone, do you? All you do is tear down other girls who are more successful than you, because all you’re busy doing is sleeping around. You want to be a whore so bad, now you’re getting treated like one.” He twists the knife and she lets out a choked yell.

“You fucked with the wrong girl.” He growls before he pulls the knife out. Blood splatters onto the ground and he drops her. Her body hits the floor and blood pools around her. He steps over her body and makes his way out of her house, and towards yours.

You hear the doorbell ring and you jump up. You rush down the stairs and without even thinking, you open the door. Of course you expect to see Sam there but it in fact, is not Sam. Your eyes widen and the masked man tilts his head. “Hi princess.” He says and you go to slam the door.

He puts his foot in between the door frame and he shakes his head, almost disappointingly. “Come on baby. I thought you liked me.” He says and you back away from the door. You notice the blood on his mask and you swallow in fear. “You- you killed someone else.” You say hesitantly.

He chuckles and walks into the house. “Yeah, all for you.” He says and he walks towards you. You continue to back away. “What? You’re still scared of me? I won’t hurt you.” He says lowly and he creeps towards you.

“You couldn’t catch me if I ran.” You say and you stare him down. He chuckles darkly and he stops walking “You think I couldn’t catch you? Really?” He asks and you nod.

He steps back and gestures to the door. “Go ahead then. Run. I’ll give you a head start.”

You eye him and the door. He could easily kill you, you both know that and he’s made it obvious. “Go on.” He says. He starts t get impatient with you standing there, so he starts counting. You suddenly take off towards the door. You swing it open and jump the steps off the porch.

You run to the side of the house and into the backyard. There’s woods covering the area behind your house so you decide to run into them. You don’t know how much of a head start he gave you but if you can get deep enough to hide and still figure a way to get back then you think everything will be okay.

You run until it feels like your lungs are going to collapse. You lead against a large tree and try to slow your breathing and listen for any footsteps. You peak around the tree but it’s too dark to really see anything. You heart is pounding and your hands are shaking. Your breathing finally slows and you look around for a way back.

If you can make it back and call Sam, maybe he could be there before the man comes back. You go to step out from behind the tree when you feel a hand on your wrist. You’re pulled backwards and into his chest. You gasp when you feel his hands on your hips. “Found you. I told you i would, maybe you should listen to me more.” He pulls you closer to him.

“Why are you doing this?” You ask as his hands slide up your body. “Because you’re mine.” He says. His voice is raspy and full of possession. “You can’t deny you felt something the other night. Other than the two orgasms I gave you.” You can hear the smirk in his voice. “You think this is exciting. You find it thrilling being chased around like this. Having someone completely obsessed with you.” He whispers. His hand slides up to your jaw, tilting your head back. The top of your head rests against his chest as you look up at him.

His hand slides up slightly more until his fingers brush your bottom lip. “You want someone to want you. and i want you. Come on Angel, let me love you. I promise you won’t regret it.” You shake your head. “You’ve killed people- you could hurt me, i can’t date you.” You say. You’re starting to question reality and morals.

He flips you around so you’re facing him and he backs you into a tree. “I killed them for you. Everything i do is for you. I’d never hurt you. I just want to love you.” You look into the masks eyes as he speaks. His words are making your heart skip a beat. He’s right, all you want to be is wanted. If he wants you… then what’s the harm? You doubt you’ll ever fall in love with him, but you can act like it.

“Okay..” You whisper and his hands tighten on your waist. “but no more killing.” You say and he nods. “Alright baby. Unless they do something do you that i don’t like.” He brushes your hair back. You open your mouth to speak but he puts his hand over it. “Don’t argue.” He says lowly.

You put your hand on his wrist and guide his hand away from his mouth. You’re still scared. You have a feeling you always will be. “Do you know which way it is to go back?” You ask him and he turns to look at he the woods around you. “No. but let’s figure it out together, yeah?” He says and he grabs your hand.

You follow him through the woods and back to your house. You know that this is a terrible idea and you should turn him into the police, but some part of you is telling you not to. “Um.. you need to be gone soon because my friend will be here anytime now and he won’t be very happy.” As soon as you say that you realize you probably shouldn’t have. You don’t know hoe he’ll react to another man behind around you.

You tense. “Please don’t hurt him- he’s my best friend, and i promise that he’s not into me.” You panic and rush the words out. He chuckles and shake his head. “I won’t. i’m just gonna take you home then i’ll leave.” He says and you let out a sigh of relief.

He guides you back to your house and you’re surprised that he actually knew the way. He brings you inside and up to your room. He shuts the door and he picks you up. You gasp and place your hands on his shoulders.

He drops you onto your bed and he hovers over you. “You gotta trust me if were gonna make this work, you still look scared of me.” He says and you chew on your bottom lip. “I am. it’s probably going to take me a while to trust you.” You reach your hand up to his mask.

“I don’t even know what to call you, you won’t tell me your name.” You whisper. Your fingers brush against the mask. “Obviously your mask is a ghost of some sort, and the news is calling you Ghostface. So do I call you that? Or Ghost for short?” You ask and he shrugs.

“I like Ghost. It’s unique to you, and I’d like anything you called me.” He says as he places his hand on your thigh. “Would you ever show me what you look like?” You tilt your head slightly and run your hand down the mask until it rests on his chest. You can feel his heart pounding. “One day.” He whispers.

His fingers find your fave and they brush over your cheek. “but for now..” He says and pulls something out of his pocket. You look at it and it’s a piece of cloth. Almost like a blindfold? “This is going on you.” He places it over your eyes and almost as if he senes your panic he shushes you.

“It’s fine. You’re okay.” He says softly as he ties it behind your head. You hear rustling and you feel around for his hands. You find one and you grip onto it. You feel him shift his body, then his lips are pressed to yours. His lips are soft and warm, and they fit perfectly against yours.

His tongue slips into your mouth and you part your lips more. You two quickly find a rhythm in kissing each other. He slides one of his hands up your thigh and to the bottom of your shorts. His fingers slowly inch their way to your core.

He presses them onto you through your shorts and your jolt. He breaks the kiss and moves them to your jaw and down your neck. His fingers rub up and down, hitting your clit every time but not giving it the attention you need. You spread your legs more and he smirks against your neck.

He pulls away from you and repositions you to where your head is on the pillows. He moves down to where he’s laying on his stomach, in between you legs. HIs fingers hook into the waistband of your shorts, pulling them down. He groans when he sees your panties. You expect him to pull them down next, but when you feel something cold press into your hip bone, you know what he’s doing.

He pushes the knife under the fabric and jerks it up so it cuts your panties off. He presses the knife to your clit next and you gasp at the cold sensation, your back arching slightly. He chuckles and kisses the inside of your thighs.

His hand reaches up and his thumb and index fingers grip your chin to pull your mouth open. The next thing you know he’s shoving his fingers in your mouth. “Suck.” He says and you listen. Your lips wrap around his fingers and your tongue swirls over them. He groans again. “Yeah.. just like that, baby. Can’t wait till that’s my fucking cock.” He says.

His words pull a moan out of you. He moves his fingers deeper into your mouth and his head dips down to your core. He presses his tongue flat against your folds and then licks up until he reaches your clit. You moan again and grind your hips into his face.

His lips wrap around your clit, and his tongue swirls. The pleasure you feel is so intense that it almost makes you want to cry. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth and brings them down to push inside of you. His fingers curl into you and he flicks your clit rhythmically.

“oh god-“ You reach down to touch his head. You’re expecting to feel the fabric of his mask but you’re met with the feeling of his hair. You grip it and tug slightly. He grunts against you and that only makes you grind into him again.

"That's it, darling," he praises, his voice thick with desire. As your moans intensify, he continues to curl his two fingers inside you, stretching and filling you while maintaining his assault on your clit with his tongue.

His other hand coming to rest on your thigh as he leans into the pressure of your hips. "Fuck, you're so tight.” His fingers move in and out of you in time with his tongue's assault, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

You gasp and moan. “Don’t stop- please don’t stop i’m close.” Your fingers continue to tug at his hair the pleasure intensifies. "Cum for me, baby," he groans. "Let me feel your pleasure." His tongue laps hungrily at your clit, his fingers flexing inside you.

Your thighs close around his head and yours tilts back in a loud moan. Your pussy clenches his fingers as you cum. His rhythm slows down until you calm down and he stops. He pulls his fingers out and he kisses your clit softly. You jolt at the over sensitive feeling.

“I’ll be right back.” He says as he gets up from the bed and walks to your bathroom. You hear the water start running and assume he’s getting a warm washcloth. Your phone dings with a text from whom you think it Sam. You’re too scared to take the blindfold off. You sit up and watch as he comes back out of the bathroom.

He comes back over to you and you feel the wash cloth press against you. “I didn’t have enough time to do this last time.” He says and he gently wipes you clean. He puts the mask back on and unties the blindfold. He hands you your phone. “He’ll be here in fifteen.” His voice is teasing.

You watch as he picks up your shorts and your ripped panties. He slips the panties into his pocket and your lips part in shock. He slips your shorts back onto you and taps your thigh lightly. “There. Now don’t let him touch you, or i will kill him.” He says sternly. Before you can protest he covers your eyes and presses a soft kiss to your lips.

“Bye Angel.” He mutters and leaves. Just like all the other times you’re left there confused and conflicted. This is going to be one big secret that you don’t know if you’ll be able to keep. You slide off your bed and walk to the mirror. You fix your complexion to make it seem like you didn’t just get done coming over someone’s face.

When you hear Sam pull into the driveway and come to front door, you know it’s going to be a night of acting like everything’s fine.

[pitchsidestories]

never judge a book by it's cover II Beth Mead x Vivianne Miedema x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1321

a/n: dear readers, this pairing was quite a requested one, so we hope we've met your expectations. 💗💗

warning: mentions of injuries, but despite that topic a whole lot of wholesomeness and fluff. <3

“Beth, Viv tried to call us.”, you noticed concerned after you looked at your phone. A few minutes ago, Renee ended the training, and the Arsenal team felt more optimistic than it had in recent times.

“She did? Weird, she knows we had training. And she hates calls.”, Beth frowned.

“Yes, it must be important.”, you replied before playing the voice mail your other girlfriend had left. Viviannes frustrated and sad voice filled the changing room. It was in stark contrast to the current joyful and happy atmosphere.

“Hi girls. I know you’re busy. Just wanted to let you know that the team doctor checked on my knee again and it doesn’t seem to get better. I’m off to do some more scans now but he said another surgery might be inevitable. They want to operate as soon as possible. No big deal, just wanted to let you know. Enjoy your training.”

“Oh no, poor Vivi. Love, you know what that means, right?”, the blonde sighed heavily.  

“Yes, of course.”, you told her. Clearing your throat, you turned around to face one of your Australian teammates. “Uhm Steph, sorry, we can’t go on our usual coffee walk with the dogs later. Beth and I need to drive to Manchester because Viv needs us right now.”

“Sure. Everything, okay?”, Steph asked alarmed.

“No, Viv puts her brave face on, but she likely has to go through a surgery again.”, you explained with a heavy heart.

“Tell her we’re all thinking of her.”, she responded empathetically.

“Okay, we’ll.”, you promised her.

“See you soon, Steph.”, Beth waved at one of her best friends.

“Bye girls, take care.”, Steph replied.

Your girlfriend and you didn’t waste time, you quickly got everything you needed for your lover and when drove all the way up to the North in a bit over four hours.

Both your hearts pounded hard against your chests, once you rang at Vivianne’s appartement door in Manchester and waited for her to open it. You couldn’t know in which state you’d find her.

“What are you two doing here?!”, the Dutch woman exclaimed surprised while kneeing down despite the pain to hug the dog who wiggled her tail excitedly, clearly thrilled to see her again.

“Looking after you!”, you answered patiently.

“I can handle that I did it before.”, Vivianne clarified as the brunette slowly stood up again.

“Yes, but you don’t have to handle it alone.”, Beth reminded her softly, wrapping her arms around the taller forward.

“Exactly, we’ll be there for you if you like it or not.”, you added, joining their hug, turning the Dutch’s footballer’s cheeks into a soft pink.

“You didn’t have to come.”, Vivianne stated seriously.

“But we wanted to, you stubborn woman.“, Beth huffed with annoyance but her eyes softened at the sight of her girlfriend.

Vivs eyebrows knotted together: “Who are you calling stubborn? You didn’t even call back to ask how the scans went. You just packed your stuff and drove here!“

You shrugged, trying to calm the situation with an innocent smile: “We just knew that we had to be here.“

With that, you marched past her into her living room that you had helped decorate a few months ago.

Vivianne shook her head: “You’re two idiots.“

“Yeah but we’re your idiots.“, Beth smiled and gently bumped shoulders with her as they followed you.

“Yeah, you are.“, Vivianne confirmed with the hint of a laugh in her voice.

You stopped in front of the sofa and started to unpack the bags you and Beth had packed earlier.

“Plus, we got Myle, your favourite snacks and the new book from that author you love. So basically everything you need to start your recovery.“, you told her.

A bit overwhelmed, Vivianne took in the pile of sweets you created on the coffee table. It took a few seconds until she spoke again: “That’s sweet of you.“

“You’re welcome, Viv. So, what’s next for you?“, you asked, sitting down on her sofa.

“For one, it’s surgery and then rehab again.“, she sighed as she sat down next to you.

Beth calmingly laid a hand on Vivs thigh: “When is the date for the surgery?“

“In a few days so you can’t stay here for that.“

As soon as she had finished, Beth and you looked at each other with silent understanding.

You frowned: “You don’t want us to be here for the surgery?“

“You have training.“, the dutch player replied like the answer should have been obvious. And maybe it should have been. But not when Beth and you were determined to be there for your girlfriend.

“Yes but Renee would understand if we would skip one.“, Beth argued which was met with a determined shake of Vivs head. “But I don’t want you to pause your lives for me.“

You barely stopped yourself from rolling your eyes at her typical stubbornness: “It’s not on pause because you are an important part of our lives.“

She considered you for a moment, silently.

“Yes, everyone would understand.“, Beth nodded to emphasize your point.

Another short break until Vivianne finally admitted: “To be honest, girls, I’m a little scared…“

Taken aback, you bit your lip. It wasn’t often that your girlfriend was open about her emotions.

Beths hand slipped into Vivs, her gaze softening: “You don’t have to be. We’ll be here for you and support you every step of the way.“

“What if I’m not coming back from this?“

“You’ll. You’re a fighter.”, the blonde said in a tone which left no room for doubt and was full of certainty.

“And you two will be there? I know I can get.”, the Dutch woman started.

Before she could add anything, you interrupted her gently. “Of course we’ll be.”

“Promise.”, Beth continued solemnly.

“Okay, thanks.”, Viv let out a relived sigh.

“Cuddles.”, you offered.

“Okay.”, she agreed with a half-crooked smile and opened her arms for you both to cuddle into one of her sides each.

“Do you feel better?”, the English player wanted to know.

“A lot. But still you shouldn’t have come.”, the Manchester city football player mumbled.

“We’re not starting with that again.”, you groaned.

“Yes, shut up and be happy!”, Beth demanded laughing.

“Let’s read out to each other with Viv’s new book. Beth could you..?”, you suggested.

“Make some special Meado hot chocolate? Absolutely.”, your girlfriend exclaimed thrilled.

“You guys know I hate the attention.”, the Dutch forward pouted.

“We do that’s why we’ll focus on fictional characters now. Can you already smell the hot drink?”, you tried your best to distract her.

“I hope Beth doesn’t burn the milk again.”, Viv looked worried into the direction where the scent of hot chocolate came from.

“Have a little faith in me!”, Beth yelled.

“I do. Usually.”, the forward assured the other striker quickly who returned with three cups of warm beverages.

“Okay, fine. I won’t argue with you.”, Viv laughed.

“The cover is really awful though.”, you commented while flipping through the pages of the newly acquired novel.

“You’re not supposed to read the cover.”, the dark-haired woman clicked her tongue.

“And not judge it by it’s looks?”, you raised an eyebrow at your lover, you knew exactly to what she was alluding to.

From the outside you looked very tough with your tattoos and muscular built. Because of your outward appearance people were quite intimidated by you until they got to know the human behind the looks. There was a soft and gentle side to you other persons were surprised to find.

“Of all people you must know that looks can be misleading.”, Beth reminded you with a wink.

“Can we read now?”, Viv threw in impatiently.

“Sure.”, you chuckled and began to read the first lines of the new book.  While you were aware that the best love story lay right next to you, listening to every word you said.

[say-hwaet]

If I Had to Do it All Again

Chapter One: Find Your Place Previous: Prologue Next Chapter: II Summary: You try to adjust to your new life with Arthur's gang, and learn some information about his past. Meanwhile, Arthur opens up to the only one who will really listen. Word Count: ~7,300 Warnings: Mature Themes, sexual harassment, language

The steam envelops your face as you pour the hot water from a wooden pail into a wash basin. You hold your breath a minute, as the heat mists your face, and once the water is poured out, you set the pail onto the ground. 

You then look at the pile of dishes beside you on the table and after swishing the suds around, you take a handful of stew plates and dip them in. 

Kitchen duty, nothing that you aren't a stranger to. This used to be second nature. After all, a waitress doesn’t just wait on tables. 

Wow. It’s been a long time since you’ve thought back that far. You were so very young, then. Eighteen. Working as a waitress since you were orphaned at 16. You had companions in Bethy, the sassy middle-aged woman who you looked up to,  Clarence, the cook who you thought of as a brother, and Joe, the soft-hearted boss with a sand-paper exterior. They were like family in their own way. 

Oh, it’s been years. 

“Once you’re done with all those, I’ll have you wash the stew pot,” Pearson, the swashbuckling personal chef of the gang, tells you as he walks behind you. “It’s been due for a good cleanin’ and your fine work has got me inspired.”

He isn’t rude to you, by any means, and you’re grateful, but you still feel so out of place. It’s only been four days since you’ve, for lack of a better word, joined, the gang, but you feel more of a stranger now than when Arthur was telling you stories about all of them. 

Arthur. You miss him. Every moment he’s out of your sight you long for him. He’s all you know. 

He’s gone off with Hosea on a job. You question the pairing of people when Dutch sends his boys off. John and Bill, the rising stars, with their brazenness and energy as they run off and come back as they were bid. Arthur and Hosea, the two fading lights, who are suspected to take longer and to keep sounding off their hums of dissent or supposed doubt. 

You can’t help but feel protective. Hosea stood up for you and already knowing enough about him, you trust him, just like Arthur does. 

Whenever he comes back from a job or a hunting trip, you are the first to race out into the field, baby in your arms. You always find yourself stopping short of ramming into Boadicea and standing awkwardly while he dismounts and then takes Alice from you to hold her. 

He has hardly touched you or even kissed you. It almost seems impolite, to dare in the presence of the other men and women. You’re back in that limbo again…just like you were years ago…just right after Isaac was born. 

You lift your head to keep an eye on your son. He’s close by, on some flattened grass, keeping an eye on his baby sister as she soaks in some sunshine. You have her laying on her tummy and will soon put her back in the fabric carrier you had fashioned years ago for when you gardened with Isaac. You’ve always liked working with your hands free and have grown to be quite creative over the years. 

“I knew a cook once,” you start to say, but then realize that Simon probably doesn’t want to hear your stories. You exhale sharply and rinse off the plate before setting it down on a nearby towel. 

“Well, are you gonna keep me in suspense?” Pearson’s raspy chortle startles you and you stand straight and look over your shoulder. He brings down a meat cleaver on some deer leg, looking at you expectantly. “Was he a navy man?”

Still stunned, you softly shake your head. “No…” You swallow. “We worked together at a restaurant. Back in what is now Utah.”

His eyebrows lift, his forehead moving his balding scalp. “Utah, huh?” He points the blade of his cleaver in the direction of where Arthur and Hosea left four hours ago. “I thought here is where, uh, you and him met?”

He’s curious? You don’t know enough of the deeper dynamics of the gang to know if he’s a vocal piece for everyone else’s inner thoughts, but you don’t see any harm in answering his question. “It isn’t. He came to the restaurant one day.” You look down and smile, the memory painting a picture in your head. You were so captivated by the tall figure sitting at the table, his dark hat shading his eyes. Your small frame was frozen until Bethy shoved you in his direction. “Wanted some pie.”

Pearson chuckles. “Didn’t think him the type. Always seems to gnaw on jerky all the time.”

You manage a smile as you speak with a soft, but prideful tone. “Not my cooking. He’ll lick the plate clean.” Your eyes widen at your sudden openness as your face loses its color. “Erm…”

But Pearson doesn’t seem to mind, laughing heartily at the thought of Arthur actually doing that. “I find that hard to believe…!”

Not pushing your luck, you decide to drop it. “Anyway, Clarence, our cook, he always had better ideas and recipes than our boss did. He wanted to save enough to open his own restaurant someday.” You lift your eyes. “I hope he made it.”

Pearson sees the thoughtful look on your face. He knows that you are like a fish out of water here, or rather, a mermaid out of the sea. He studies your long, chestnut tresses, the sun-kissed face, and freckles that scatter across your cheeks. If you were resting on a rock near the cape, all bare and singing, he could very well mistake you for a siren. He shakes it out of his mind. While it is not crystal clear, there is something between you and the newly outcast enforcer. “Do you know any of his recipes?” He asks, hoping to remove his thoughts. 

You nod, completely oblivious to his musings. “I remember how he cooked turkey and a couple of stew recipes. They were delicious.”

Pearson smiles. “Maybe you could write them down for me sometime.”

You turn to meet his gaze. “Maybe.”

You continue with the dishes in silence, listening to Pearson as he chops more of the deer leg and disposes of the bone. You hear Isaac giggle as he plays with his sister, talking nonsense to her as she tries to look around. She’s already starting to hold up her head, and her smile is one of the few things that bring joy to you, outside of Arthur’s homecoming each day.

After finishing the dishes and putting them back in the chuck wagon, you go over to your children before moving on to your next chore. Chores are something to help keep you busy when you aren’t reading to Isaac or feeding your daughter.

Isaac sees your shadow cast over him and his sister and he lifts his head as he lays on the grass. He smiles at you. “Hi, Mommy.”

You beam. “Hi, darling.”

He looks back at Alice. “I think she wants to talk.”

You decide to pause and enjoy this moment with them, so you motion to sit down. “She’s too young to say words, but she does try.”

Isaac doesn’t seem too concerned. “What was my first word?”

You pause to think about it. You had been much to busy to record every milestone. It wasn’t until two years ago that you started writing in a journal. You wish that you had done it much sooner.

“It was Mama, I think.”

He almost seems to frown, but it is clear that he tries to hide it. “Not Daddy?”

You aren’t sure how that would be possible. He was only ever around every few months. Isaac was too little to discern the difference between coming and going. “I don’t think so, sweetheart.” You reach a hand and card your fingers through Isaac’s hair. “Your hair is getting longer, I’ll have to get out the scissors and trim it.”

Isaac shakes his head. “No, I like it like this.” His hair sweeps over his eyes and he giggles. “See?”

“I think the problem is that you can’t.” You chuckle and reach over to pick up your baby. Alice squirms in your arms, batting her tiny hands at the air with a gurgle of delight. The sun in the sky, warm against your back, makes the red in your hair reveal itself, and in its light, you see it cast a similar shade in your daughter's fine wisps. “You have my hair,” you say softly and you bring her close to kiss the top of her head. You love the smell of her skin, her sweetness, and how she has hardly given you any grief. 

Isaac gets up and leans against you, watching his little sister. “She likes it here.”

You can’t help but pinch your brow, do you really want to hear your son say that? “Is it because Daddy is here?”

He pauses before answering. “I don’t know.” The melancholy in his answer gives away a hint that that is the reason why and before you can ask him to clarify, he walks away, the distant call of a coyote mixing with the rustling of grass in each of his steps.

In the waves of the grass, you turn your head, scanning the horizon where the sky meets the earth in a line so thin it almost slices the world in two. You imagine yourself like a doe with her fawn, exposed to anything and anyone that could be hiding beneath the grassy waves. Your heart tightens with a pang of worry for Isaac. His small figure seems so vulnerable against the vast, untamed wilderness.

“Eliza?”

You nearly jump and notice the shadow over you. Looking up, you see the soft, round face of Annabelle. You feel yourself relax, but your hold on your baby doesn’t lessen.

She must sense your unease and so she crouches down to your level. “Isaac is following Susan around. She doesn’t mind.”

You look back at your daughter and she coos with a gummy smile. “I don’t want to be a burden.”

Annabelle clicks her tongue. “No one's a burden here, Eliza. This is family, this is what we do. We look out for each other.” Her voice holds a firm conviction that soothes you momentarily. She looks over your shoulder, her eyes tracing the path Isaac took. “He’s just curious, and Susan loves the company.”

Your gaze doesn’t lift from your daughter, and you let her words sink in. “I thought this was a gang of outlaws. A family hardly seems to fit in around here.”

Annabelle could reply quickly to that, but what you need is a guiding hand. Patience. She has faith that you will come around, as she did when she met Dutch. She looks at your baby and wrestles with whether or not to share something in the hopes of removing some of your doubts. “I…I had a child…once.”

You lift your eyes and look at her, dumbfounded. “Was Dutch…?”

She shakes her head softly. “No. I was…in bad circumstances.” Annabelle looks away, eyeing Isaac as he tries to grip onto Susan’s skirt. She quickly turns around, chuckling, and gives chase as he tries to flee from her. Their laughter carries over to them. Annabelle continues, “I had lost my husband and baby to cholera. I was a widow, trying my best to make ends meet.” Her green eyes look back into yours. “When I met Dutch, I had hope again.”

You shake your head. “I wanted to come here, once, like in a fairytale storybook.” You chortle bitterly. “I guess I got what I wished for.”

Annabelle, unsure how you feel about her, takes the risk to put her hand on your shoulder. You don’t flinch and with a feeling of relief, she offers some thought-provoking words. “Is it truly all bad? Being with the one you love so dearly?” Your eyes widen and you feel your face grow hot. And she smiles. “It’s only been a few days, but I see the way you look at him.”

Your throat tightens, the weight of her words hanging heavily between you. You glance back at your daughter, her bright eyes oblivious to the complexities swirling around her. You swallow hard, the reality of your situation pressing in. "It's not him, Annabelle. It’s this life... this uncertainty.” You haven’t cried in days, and you wanted to make a habit of it, but now you feel them well up in your eyes. “I had a home. A place of my own.” You tuck your chin and let Alice grab your finger as she lays against your bent knees. “I’ve ruined things for Arthur, just being here.”

Annabelle’s lips flatten to a thin line. She can’t deny things are bad between Arthur and Dutch right now, even Hosea. But they are the dynamic trio, the old guard. About 15 years they’ve been together, surely things will work themselves out. She rubs your shoulder with her thumb in compassionate sweeps. “Don’t worry, Eliza. things have a way of resolving themselves. You’ve not ruined anything. Believe it or not, we are as close to family as Arthur has ever had, and families fight. They also face hardships, but they endure. It’s what makes them a family.” Her voice is soft yet firm, carrying a certainty that you desperately want to believe. And seeing her words sink in, she rises to her feet. “Let Isaac explore a little. He’s got more people to watch him, now.”

After what happened four days ago, you have been more cautious than ever, but you so desperately want to relax. You want to go a few minutes without looking over your shoulder. You nod at Annabelle with a feigned smile and she turns to leave you with your daughter.

***

Arthur pulls back on the reins and Boadicea skids to a stop on the top of the hill. He hears Hosea and Silver Dollar slide up beside them.

Down below into a grassy valley is a herd of antelope. Food. Another way to help his family not starve.

Dutch is being petty, bitter. Not letting him go on bigger jobs to bring in money, so he isn’t deserving of any praise at all. Sure, food keeps bellies full, but there’s nothing like the shine of coin to stir Dutch’s heart.

Arthur knows that it isn’t like the old days, when they took gold bars from banks and offered them to the poor and orphaned. Since that first clipping, the stakes have been higher and the money box needed to be kept full.

Even so, he knows that it isn’t Hosea’s way. Hosea has always taken on tasks that involve little to no violence. Just some good fun to keep things interesting. Arthur has begun to like those jobs more. It makes him use his brain, though he would never say that out loud.

“Just look at them,” Hosea sighs. “Beautiful, aren’t they?”

Arthur nods softly, his mind still somewhere else. “Shoah.”

“What’s say we take down a couple? If we get decent enough pelts, we could sell ‘em, or have Pearson craft something.”

Now, that is a thought. He could craft a gift. A gift for you, perhaps?

Hosea sees the soft smile on his son’s face and forms a glint in his own eye. “I see that look. You thinkin’ of something good?”

“Maybe.”

“Don’t begrudge an old man his pleasures, what is it?”

Arthur turns to look at his mentor and father figure, and leans back. “Old? I’d hardly think at your age you’d be callin’ yourself old.”

Hosea shakes his head. “Never stick with flattery when you do con work, son,” he chuckles. “It doesn’t suit you.”

Arthur lets out a low laugh, the tension easing from his shoulders as they both look down at the valley again. The antelope graze peacefully, unaware of the hungry eyes scrutinizing them from above.

"Alright," Arthur finally says, his voice firm yet still carrying a hint of warmth from the exchange. "Let's do this.” and he readies himself to spur Boadicea on.

But Hosea stops him. “No, not just yet!” And he takes Arthur’s wrist. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

This has been the most conversant Arthur has seen of Hosea since Bessie died. Something has changed, or healed, for him to want to talk at all. There isn’t a bottle in his hand and he is actually smiling for once. He didn’t quite feel as guilty for wanting to leave the gang and go to you and Isaac, but now, he feels the pang of it. What would Hosea have done if he wasn’t there to support him? It seems that nobody cares about Bessie anymore, or they’re so quick to pack up and go, that they have begun to do that with their feelings, too.

Hosea can feel his eyes intensely looking at him. “What is it?”

Arthur shrugs. “How do I begin?”

Hosea grins. “From the beginning, of course.”

Arthur chuckles. “That could take forever.”

Hosea pats Arthur’s wrist before letting it go. “So, get started.” But he then decides to offer a little help. “Tell me about Eliza.”

Oh, that. That’s what he wants to know. But if he were to tell anyone, it would be Hosea. Arthur swallows. “Well, she’s a waitress I met.”

And Hosea seems to be ready with questions, he isn’t about to let Arthur leave out any details. “Where?”

“A settlement in Utah.”

Hosea thinks on this, and remembers that they had been out that way. He thinks of you, your face, your hair, and suddenly he remembers.

That thin, young lady with the pencil and tablet, taking down orders of flapjacks and coffee. Dutch sat beside him.

“Ah,” Hosea sighs. “I remember now.” And he smiles. “She was a young thing, wasn’t she?”

Arthur nods. “She was eighteen when I met her.”

Hosea nudges Arthur’s arm. “And a strapping buck like you somehow swept her off her feet?”

Arthur feels his face grow hot. “Not exactly.”

“What, got too fresh?” Hosea teases.

Arthur leans back. “No!”

“What then?”

Arthur begins to feel embarrassed talking about this. He only ever had written thoughts like these in his journal. He pauses, searching for the right words. "It... it weren’t like that. She was different, Hosea. Sweet, but curious about everythin’. She always talked about Rome and her eyes always…just…” He runs a hand over his face to cloak his bashfulness. “Not just a girl to pass the time with. She... she mattered."

Hosea's teasing smile softens into something more understanding. "I can see that," he says gently. "Tell me when you knew she did.”

He blinks, thinking it through. “When…when someone else saw it, too.”

Hosea furrows his brow. “Who?”

The memories begin to flood back to that time. When he had heard a ruckus at the edge of town. It was dark, and he was going to scope out new leads, as usually all towns have their dark crevices to look into. That’s when he heard the low tones, the sheepish threats.

It was trouble.

With each calculated step, Arthur closes in on the source of the commotion, carefully avoiding the bright lights and staying hidden in the shadows. He sees you, the waitress from earlier today, pressed against the bank wall with a man looming over you like a predator ready to strike. The man's back is turned towards Arthur, but his expression is unmistakable - one of sadistic pleasure.

"Why do you always try to run from me?" The man taunts, his hand reaching out towards your face. But before he can touch you, you slap it away with a fierce strength that even surprises you.

The man, now revealed as Willy, takes a step closer and snarls,"Oh, the little doe fights back, huh?" He then leans in close to your trembling form. 

"Leave me alone, Willy," you manage to choke out in a feeble attempt at defiance.

Willy tilts his head and leers,"And why would I do that?" His eyes gleam with malice as he prepares to unleash his full intent on you.

Arthur's patience snaps like a brittle twig. Without hesitation, his hand instinctively reaches for his gleaming revolver, fingers wrapping tightly around the grip as he takes determined steps toward the glowing light on the ground.

You desperately try to scare off Willy with another empty threat, but your voice quivers with fear. "If you lay a finger on me, I-I'll scream."

Willy's response is slick and slimy, dripping with wicked intentions. "That's what I was hoping for." His hand inches closer to your face, leering at you as his mind continues to wander, his eyes traveling your body with hunger.

But before he can touch you, Arthur's gun is out and aimed at him, his arm extending into the light while his face remains shrouded in darkness. He speaks through gritted teeth, a low growl of warning. "Touch her and you're dead." The tension in the air is palpable as both men stare each other down, ready for a deadly showdown.

As you turn your head, you catch a glimpse of him and your eyes narrow with suspicion. But when you try to follow your gaze, all you see is darkness. Willy slowly lowers his hands, a sly smirk spreading across his face. "We were just having a little fun," he says with a shrug, his tone dripping with suggestions. “Heck, you could’ve—”

But Arthur takes a step closer, staying hidden in the shadows cast by the street lantern. "How about I end you before you finish that sentence?" he growls, his voice low and dangerous.

Willy's expression turns from smug to contemptuous. It is clear to Arthur that this chump doesn't understand the meaning of no. "You wouldn't dare," he spits out defiantly, but there is a hint of fear in his eyes.

With a cold, calculated movement, Arthur closes the distance between them until the barrel of his revolver is pressed firmly against Willy's temple. He relishes in the sound of the hammer being pulled back, a satisfying click that echoes through the tense air.

"Try me," he challenges with a deadly calmness. 

Like a coward, Willy raises his hands in surrender. But as he begins to back away, he makes one last desperate move, reaching for your face. You instinctively turn your head just in time to narrowly avoid his grasping fingers. With a smirk of false bravado, Willy taunts, "Catch you later, doe." But there's a hint of fear in his voice that betrays his false confidence.

You quickly avert your gaze, feeling your chest tighten as you inhale sharply. Willy doesn't even acknowledge the shadowy figure who saved you, instead disappearing into the darkness behind the partially constructed bank.

Silence envelopes the two of you for a moment, broken only by your heavy panting and the frantic beating of Arthur's heart. He slowly holsters his gun and approaches you, his voice gentle and concerned. "Are you alright?"

You nod, still in shock from the adrenaline rush. Your eyes flicker with recognition, but it’s clear to him that you try to play it cool.

But Arthur can see through your facade and he steps into the light, revealing those piercing marine eyes that seem to hold all the secrets of the ocean. As soon as you see him fully, your breath catches in your throat. "It's you!" you gasp.

A soft smile spreads across his face as he takes in the sight of you. "Hi, brown eyes."

“And so I walked her home,” Arthur's voice carries on the gentle breeze as he finishes his story. The graceful antelope have moved on, but both men remain seated, still captivated by the conversation unfolding between them.

Hosea nods, content with the tale he has just heard. He knows it a privilege to hear much more than he ever would have gotten if he wasn’t sitting here on his mount beside Arthur. "And the rest is simply history?" he asks inquisitively.

Arthur's boisterous laughter echoes through the open plain. Far from it, but he’ll keep that to himself for now. “I guess so.”

***

It won’t be long before you have to put Alice down for bed. She will be awake in the middle of the night for a feeding, and the sooner that gets started, the more sleep later into the night you and Arthur will get.

Alice is in the wrap you fashioned as you feed the four chickens that the gang appears to own. You’re grateful for a little piece that reminds you of home. Aside from Farm Boy, you didn’t get the opportunity to take Little Maid, your dairy cow, with you. You miss her, as cumbersome and stubborn as she was. If anything, she got you to get outside when you didn’t feel up to it. Lord knows, you needed fresh air.

“It’s nice having someone who knows how to work.”

You turn your body to see Susan Grimshaw approach you. She hasn’t spoken much to you, but you can tell she has some holding power on the gang. When Dutch and the leading men aren’t around, most seem to respect and listen to her. Arthur hasn’t spoken to you much on her history, and it really isn’t your business.

But by golly, if you aren’t curious.

“Yes,” you say, then remembering what she was just talking about. “I mean, I am certainly trying.”

Susan crosses her arms and studies you. “Arthur said you had a homestead?”

“Yes, we did.” You rarely have ever included Arthur in that topic, given that you are the one who had done all the work yourself, but it only seems fit and proper to include him for the sake of showing his worth and accomplishments. Maybe, eventually, they will reach Dutch’s ear just like everything else around here. “He’s good at building things.”

Susan doesn’t seem too enthralled, as she crosses her arms. “Uh-huh.” And she goes quiet for a moment before speaking again. “Does…uh…Isaac take after his daddy?”

You narrow your eyes, your brown eyes piercing. “Of course, he does.” You only hope that she asked out of curiosity, not in the spirit of the Spanish Inquisition. Arthur is the only man you’ve had, or ever will have, and you aren’t about to encourage rumors being spread about anything otherwise. "Alice does, too. I don’t doubt that she has his eyes.”

Susan looks at you long and hard, almost sizing you up. You remain still, your expression unflinching as you toss out another handful of corn. Her gaze lingers a bit longer before she nods, a small, almost imperceptible movement. Then, just as quickly as the moment of tension had arrived, it dissipates as she turns her attention to the chickens pecking at the ground.

"Well," Susan starts, shifting her stance slightly, "it's good to have young ones around again. Keeps everyone on their toes, and gives us all something to fight for." Her voice softens just a touch, a rare hint of warmth in the typically stern woman.

“Again?” you ask.

Susan actually lets out a smile. “Well, Arthur and John weren’t as young as your little ones, but they could sure keep me, Dutch, and Hosea on our toes.” She looks at Alice, contently pressed to your breast in her wrap. “Like yours do, no doubt.”

You nod, feeling the tightness in your shoulders loosen slightly. "They certainly do."

The moment of understanding between you and Susan is cut short by a distant thunder of hooves. Susan's head snaps up, her eyes narrowing as she peers into the distance. “Riders,” she mutters, her voice hardening.

You feel your heart skip a beat. Riders could mean trouble—bandits, lawmen, or…

Instinctively, you set the pail of feed on a lone tree branch, and hoist your skirts as you break into a jog, careful not to jostle your baby too much.

You hear Isaac calling out to you, clearly aware of the oncoming sound. “Mommy…!”

Your curiosity lets you stick your neck out most times, and with this chance, you are rewarded.

It’s Arthur, riding in with Hosea.

They have several ducks tied to their saddles, the corpses dangling near Boadicea and Silver Dollar’s legs.

Your heart beats even faster, and not for the short jog. Arthur stops his horse near the others that are grazing, and they seem unperturbed. He dismounts, leaving the ducks tied to the saddle, and walks in your direction. 

You stand there motionless, your eyes never leaving his as he draws closer and closer to you. 

Suddenly, something brushes up past your skirt and you look down to see Isaac running in the space between you and his father, arms outstretched. “Daddy…!”

He wears a warm smile at his son, and that makes you happy.  Arthur sweeps Isaac into his arms, lifting him high above his head before setting him down with a gentle roughness that only a father possesses. He then looks over at you, his eyes crinkling at the edges. "Miss me?" he asks, a playful tilt to his voice that you hadn't realized how much you'd missed until now. His presence, strong and reassuring, washes over you like the first rains after a long drought.

"Yes," you reply, your own voice a mix of relief and nervousness. "But what about those ducks? Looks like trouble followed you home."

Arthur's smile grows at your tease and he nods toward Hosea. “Ask him.”

Hosea dismounts and waggles a finger. “Don’t you go blaming me, son. We would have had those antelope if you didn’t stop to chat.”

Arthur whips around, scoffing. “Me? You talked my ear off the whole ride.”

You haven’t seen Arthur this happy in a good while.

The light-hearted banter fades as the dust settles behind the returned riders. Hosea slaps Arthur on the back, then walks over to join you. His eyebrows knit together under the brim of his hat, casting his eyes in shadow. "We need to talk," he says quietly, just loud enough for you to hear.

Hosea? Talk to you? Why on earth for? You look for Arthur to return his gaze at you once he sets Isaac down. He does and seeing your confused gaze, he only shrugs his shoulders.

Well, that isn’t much help.

“Keep an eye on Isaac. Dinner will be done soon.” You turn and follow Hosea as he walks to a more secluded spot on the other side of camp. You fold your arms and feel the silence unbearable. Is he going to bear the bad news? Dutch has finally decided to kick you and your children out?

You need to prepare yourself for the worst.

So, you give yourself the opportunity to say something first. “Hosea, before you say anything, I just want to—”

“Please, Eliza, I don’t mean to interrupt, but I have something very important to say.”

You blink, caught off guard by his forwardness. But if you thought about it longer, it wouldn’t really be that surprising. “Oh.”

He takes off his hat, his blonde turning silver hair shining like wheat in the fall, and he looks softly in your eyes. “I know who you are.”

Your brows pinch, trying to read his calm expression. “I wasn’t hiding anything.”

Hosea then lets out a smile. “Of course not, but I know where I’ve seen you before.” He lets there be a pause before saying it, “The restaurant. Joe’s Place.”

You let out an exhale and nod. “Yes. You and Dutch came for breakfast.”

Hosea nods, letting out a chuckle. “Did you buy into our stories? No doubt Arthur told you we were gold prospectors.”

You nod. “Yes, but he acted like he was alone.”

Hosea’s smile falls. “I could see why. He wanted you all to himself.”

This untoward comment shocks you. “What?!”

Hosea quickly raises his hands. “Oh! Please don’t mistake me, Eliza. I only mean that he didn’t want anyone to know you. It is clear to me that he did that for good reason…on account of Mary and all.”

Your eyes widen and you feel your heart plummets to your stomach. Mary? You’ve never heard that name before. Ever. 

As you struggle to process this new information, Hosea sees the fear in your widened eyes and senses the tightening of your chest. He realizes his grave error, but it's too late to take back his words now. His voice trembles as he speaks again, "He never told you about her, did he?"

Your response is sharp and cold, laced with betrayal, "No."

He tries to reassure you, his voice hesitant and filled with longing. But deep down, he hopes that Arthur will be the one to tell you. It isn't his place to speak of something so personal and heartbreaking from his past. “It was a long time ago, before he met you. We…we knew it wouldn’t end well.”

Now your curiosity is piqued. You can't help but wonder why this news has suddenly come to light. If you had been with another man, you would have told Arthur without hesitation. You were always open and honest with him about everything that mattered, at least in your mind.  

You fold your arms, hoping to shield yourself from the feelings welling up inside you. “Oh…”

Hosea touches your arm. “Let him tell you. I’m sure he has healed by now.”

Was it all a convenient coincidence? Had he been pining for Mary while out at camp, only to return to you when it was convenient? Were you just a temporary escape for him when you first met years ago? Just a naive young girl, easily charmed by a knight in shining armor? The thought makes your brow furrow and your breaths come sharp with anger and hurt. 

“Eliza?” Hosea asks, concern in his voice. Your gaze hardens, steeling against the churn of betrayal and confusion. "I’m fine," you say, your voice barely above a whisper but slicing through the tense air like a knife.

Hosea hesitates before speaking again, his eyes darting left and right as if searching for a way to salvage this moment. "He told me how you met.” And then his eyes return to yours. “Back in Utah.”

You snort. “I’m sure he did.” It seems he will tell everyone about himself except you. Most of it you had to figure out on your own.

He shakes his head. “It was also what he thought of you.”

You find the intensity in your eyes lessening, and your desire to know daring to push out your hurt, if but for just a moment. “What did he say?”

Hosea smiles again, sensing his chance to make things better again. “He said that you mattered.”

You feel conflicted at this. Love was what you were looking for, and while you normally would have settled for such vague, empty words, you aren’t sure you’re willing to buy into it this time. “I’ve mattered for the last five years.” And you motion to walk away. “But that isn’t good enough anymore.”

You begin to head back into camp and Hosea calls out to you. “Eliza!” You stop, looking over your shoulder. “He’s only a man and you’re only a woman. You both have a place with each other, even if you don’t see that.”

You feel your heart soaking in his words. You feel yourself leaning into them, but just as quickly as the feeling appears, it leaves, the bitterness cloaking it all.

You walk away.

***

After dishes are cleaned and put back into the chuck wagon once again, everyone beside those on guard duty retires for the night. Dutch had been quiet all evening, and only chose to talk to those who were in his good graces for the time being. The charismatic savior that Arthur praised in his stories looks less than the heroes in the fables you read to your son. Fictional, unreal. You can't make sense of him, and you aren’t sure you want to.

You finish tucking in Alice after feeding and changing her and you begin to hum the melody of the Scout’s Lament. You used it with Isaac when he was fussy of has had a nightmare, and it still seems to work on her.

You hear the tent flap open, and turning, you see Arthur come in. For the past four days, he has continued to sleep on the ground beside the cot, and now, after what Hosea told you, you aren’t sure how you feel about it. On one hand, you still desire him, need him, his presence a mere symbol of safety and care. On the other, you want to push him back, resist the temptations that you have wrestled with, and snuff out the flames for good. Your focus should be on your son and daughter. If anything, you can keep the peace for them.

Arthur regards your position as you kneel beside the cradle. You’re in your nightgown, your figure hidden beneath the straight cotton and ruffled cuffs. Your hair is in a loose braid, and it drapes over your right shoulder like a long rope. He wants to touch it, maybe lure you closer to him.

The look in your eyes when he came home, it brought a heat into his belly. Maybe he can tell you now, now that some things have settled. He can tell you the reason why he had come back that day, and why he’s carried a small box in his pocket for the last month.

He smiles at you. “Hey.”

You don’t look up at him as you reply. “Hi.”

Instantly he feels something is wrong. Your words, the sound that came from your lips, was a dullness without any feeling at all. Your hand is in the cradle, Alice clutching onto your forefinger. He swallows and decides to try to lighten your mood. “Pearson said you helped cook the supper tonight. Shoulda known, it was too good.”

You don’t smile.

Then, he decides to not beat around it. “What’s wrong?”

And you, still looking at Alice, speak three words that cause him to freeze. “Who is Mary?”

His eyes search you, his heart beginning to thrum. “Who told you?”

“Why shouldn’t I know?”

His voice tenses up. He doesn’t want you to be concerned over something that has nothing to do with you. “‘Cause it was a long time ago. It don’t matter no more.”

That’s when you turn to look at him. From the lantern hanging, he can see the shine in your eyes. “It matters to me.”

His nose wrinkles and his brow pinches. “Why? She ain’t here now, is she?”

“Would she have been?”

His breath hitches. Would Mary have been here if things went how he had planned? If she did agree to marry him and run away with the gang? Would her lavish ways and upstanding manners have lasted, or would she have adapted and grown to love the wind in her hair, and the sound of a firing gun? How does he answer that?

And since he doesn’t answer, you ask another hard question. “Did you love her?” You blink. “Be honest.”

Hell, you had to ask that question.

He shifts on his feet, the dead grass crunching under the weight of his hesitation. His gaze drifts away from yours, out toward the flickering shadows cast by the small lantern. "Yeah," he admits, the word barely more than a whisper. "Yeah, I did. Once."

Your eyes narrow slightly, and he can see the hurt flicker across your face, quick as a prairie storm. "And now?" you ask, your voice steady but low, carrying a weight that makes his stomach twist.

He turns back to you, sees Alice's small hand in yours, and feels the crushing weight of his past decisions.

But I love you, he thinks. Say it, you fool!

But he can’t find the words. Just like last time. Like a fool. How long can this go on? “I don’t anymore. Mary…Mary’s just a ghost from my past.”

The room goes quiet aside from the steady breathing of your two children. Two living examples of something that was more real to you than anything else. And now, a stranger, a name, has entered in it, and Arthur’s answer has only made it more concrete. You look away. “Okay.”

What? That’s it? The tears? The quivering lips? And all you can say is okay?

Arthur doesn’t want it to be like this. If you are mad, say it. Do it. Tell him why.

“That ain’t just it.”

Your voice is still calm and you rock the cradle absentmindedly. “It is.”

“Eliza—”

“It’s fine, Arthur.” And you won’t let him say anything more. Not tonight. “We should get to bed.”

Like this? No.

Hastily, Arthur bends over, reaching below his cot to grab his sleeping roll. He makes his way out of the tent. “I have guard duty in a couple hours. Don’t wanna wake you.”

And he leaves you alone with the children.

The wind picks up outside, howling like a lone wolf on the prairie, shivering its way through the canvas of the tent. Arthur quickly glances back to make sure the flap is secure, and satisfied that you’re safe, he continues on, tucking the roll under his arm. 

He makes his way to the edge of camp, to one of the few scattered trees. Standing a few feet away from the tree is John, gun ready and eyes watching. 

“My turn, Marston,” Arthur states, holding out his hand for the gun. “Go now.”

John, not realizing who was behind him, whips around. “Arthur?” And in the moonlight, he sees the gloomy expression on his brother’s face. “What’s eatin’ you?”

Arthur takes the gun right out of John’s hands and points back to camp with the barrel. “Go now.”

John knows things are uneasy right now, and while they haven’t always gotten along, they always seem to be there for each other. John has never admitted it, but he’s looked up to Arthur, the closest to a brother he’s ever known. He’s never made above-and-beyond attempts to get sentimental, but knowing now that Arthur has the capacity to father and love children, he’s been questioning what else is Arthur holding out on?

“Arthur,” John begins, unable to remove the raspiness from his voice, but managing a softness that shows compassion. “What’s wrong?”

Nothing. Nothing’s wrong. Except I found out a heart can be broken twice. 

But that isn’t what he says. He lowers his head to where the brim of his hat covers his eyes. “Go to sleep, John.”

John, realizing that his attempt to be open is futile, quietly leaves Arthur to the howling wind and moon. 

Alone, you sit in the tent, the weight of the conversation anchoring your heart to the cold ground. Alice stirs slightly in her sleep, and you gently rub her tummy, soothing her into sleep.

If only Arthur's presence could soothe the turmoil churning inside you as easily. But even if he were next to you, you know it wouldn’t be so. It’s better this way, he’s out there now, under the vast expanse of starlit sky, wrestling his own demons in the silence of the night.

You don’t know his thoughts, and he doesn’t know yours. That’s the trouble. If only you both could just get over the fear of losing one another and speak what you ought to have said, maybe things would be better. 

But just like Hosea said, you both have a place with one another, even though you don’t see it. 

Thank you so much for reading! Leave a like if you want the next chapter!

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