🥂 the f1 boys... after an arguement
MEET THE CAST. CL 16 ◦ CS 55 ◦ LN 4 ◦ MV 1
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ᡣ𐭩 ⎯⎯ CHARLES LECLERC 16
" you're being ridiculous ! " Charles shouts, slamming his hands down on the marble and startling you with the loud echo of his palms against the counter.
" me ? " you mumur under your breath, leaning towards him on the opposite side of the kitchen island, " i'm the ridiculous one ? you're the one who was getting drooled on by your ex-girlfriend . " you snarled and stomped your feet.
" je ne peux pas, je ne peux pas- je ne peux pas avoir à nouveau cette fucking conversation avec toi . mon Dieu . " [ i can't, i can't- i can't have this fucking conversation with you again. my God] He ran his hand through his hair and watched as you gaped at him, slowly translating the words in your mind .
"of course," throwing your hands up in the air, you move away from the kitchen and rush down towards the foyer, "it's my fault, it cannot possibly be you, who made a goddamn mistake ?"
you collected your purse and keys, the metallic fob jingled obnoxiously against the bowl, "no it can't becau- what are you doing ? " Charles stopped mid sentence, eyes widening .
Squinting your eyes at him you shook the metal in your hand, "out."
"where is out ? je te prie de te le dire ? " [ pray tell thee ]
"anywhere but here, i need time charles." you mumured, itching to reach out and take his hand as you breathed heavily yet the anger that was bubbling up to a boil had settled into a seething magma, already solidifying into scathing stone.
"time ? " he spluttered, latching onto your bag that had just been slung onto your shoulder, "for what ?"
"for the clocks to reset." you sassed, dropping the clutch into his hand, "god. i'll be back."
the sun had begun to set by the time you had pressed in your combination into the keypad and attempted to silently pad into the apartment.
lest to say, that didn't work, because as soon as the door clicked open and the jingle of the lock had ceased, the sound of steps bounding up to you was following shortly after.
"tu es de retour, Dieu merci, tu es de retour." [ you're back, thank god you're back ] Charles hugged you tightly, hands winding around your waist to hold you close, the comfort of your heartbeat in time with his made him slump over you with relief.
you patted his back slowly, smiling inwardly, "yeah, i'm back. i told you i would be." pressing kisses to his neck but stopped short when small droplets began to wet your top.
"charlie," you sighed, pulling away to hold his red face in your hands. he sniffled and kept his gaze down on where his hands gripped your hips. his fingers fiddled with the hem of your clothing as his bottom lip wobbled and fresh tears bubbled at his lashline.
"charles ." you tried again, rubbing your thumbs against his temple, "why are you crying ? " he sniffed again and shook his head slowly, already curling around you again, going against the gentle force you applied on his face.
"pensé que" [ thought that ] he started, taking a stuttering breath, "thought that you wouldn't come back."
Your heart shattered, "why ?" with a burning throat, you blinked quickly and listened patiently.
"i was so mad, you were mad." charles bit his lip, despite the skin already being rosy and swollen, most likely from his growing worry throughout the day, "i wouldn't have blamed you, if you didn't come back. "
"honey ? " you call out, smiling gently when he finally met your eyes despite the pang that coursed through your body when you noticed the harsh red lines that sat stark in his eyes, "i would never leave you. "
"you wouldn't ?"
"no-" you choked back a sob, "no, why would you think that." scolding him, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into you, trapping him in your embrace, "stupid, stupid french man." you grit out, salty streams dripping down your face.
"you're right. " he laughed wetly, rubbing a large palm down your back when you begin to sob laboriously.
"i love you," you detach from him quickly, pecking his lips, his eyes, each and every individual freckle littered on his nose and cheeks, "i love you so much- even when that bitch is slobbering over your arm."
"chérie" he starts, but presses his lips together when you pause in between your smooches to arch an eyebrow at him, "i love you too."
ᡣ𐭩 ⎯⎯ CARLOS SAINZ 55
the sun was beating down on the yacht as the crsytaline blue waves lapped at the pristine white of the boat.
you lay on the sun bed, sunglasses propped up on your head as your eyes twitched, watching as carlos and some random chick were talking on the deck.
it was the days leading up to the monaco grand prix, and since it was easiest to procure a yacht here, the boys thought to host a party, where drinks, dancing and daquiri were a must.
so as the music blasted and almost 20 other people were chatting and moving their bodiees to the music, you were busy seething as the girl ran a hand up carlos' salty, sea water covered bicep.
though you stayed away, book disgarded on your exposed stomach whilst your hands twitched with undisclosed rage at your side.
it was when you noticed that even though your boyfriend glanced down at her fingers, he made no move to push it away, that you decided to get up from your place and saunter towards them.
"-wow you're so strong, it must be so hard to drive an f1 car."
"uhm-"
" hi." you gritted out, lacing your arm with carlos', who stood frozen in his spot, "if you would so kindly, stop humping my boyfriend- i would really appreciate it."
the girl stared at you, mouth opening and closing dumbly.
" you can go do that-" you pointed to the throng of the party, where lando was dj-ing, "over there."
she scoffed and walked away, but not before she winked at the driver on your arm and shot you a dirty glare.
as soon as you were sure that she had left, you slowly turned to carlos, who was already gawking at you, "you have 5 minutes to explain, why and how she felt that she could be doing that to you."
he spluttered, eyes igniting with annoyance, "that was the daughter of one of our biggest sponsors- why would you do that ? mujer loca" [crazy woman]
"i'm the crazy one ?" you asked incredulously, "so i'm meant to watch as you let girls just, what? sex you up?"
"oh come on, you know she wasn't." he rolled his eyes, "and what could i do? if i told her no, she could get me fired."
you crossed your arms at him, "so what you're saying, that no matter what, your job is more important than me and my feelings ?"
" Ay, ¿por qué siempre dices eso? " [ay, why do you always say that ? ] carlos shook his head and held your shoulders, "you need to understand that your feelings are important to me, but so is my career."
you shake your head, "but it's all the time carlos, all the damn time." he tilts his head, large brown eyes conveying his confusion, "it's always, 'we can't go here, its bad for my reputation" or "i'll be back late, the office needs me" . what about when i need you ?"
" i can't go everywhere, it's unsafe, you know that. and i'm not always out late. " he reasons, shrugging.
" no- firstly, it was a cafe, you aren't in danger at a fucking cat cafe. and secondly, name one time this entire month that we ate dinner together."
you wait, wedged foot tapping against the laminated wood beneath your sole. carlos stills for a moment, wracking brain before looking at you again and cringing.
"- see ! "
"- i'm sorry cariño !"
you shake your head pushing away his hands, "not this time- i won't forgive you. i deserve better. "
carlos watches, gobsmacked and panicked when you walk away, already collecting your things as the yacht docks.
the bell to the cafe that you sat in jingles quietly, though you ignore it and continue to pet the sweet, grey cat that purrs in your lap whilst sipping a warm tea.
a shadow forms infront of you, and you look up, eyes widening, "carlos- what are you doing ?"
he pants, bracing his hands on his knees as he doubles over- you instictively reach out and take his hand.
"i-" he keens and pants, "i looked everywhere for you, the apartment, all the shops that you normally go to, landos place, max's place, charles' place. then i remembered that you sent me the link for the directions here." carlos leans down to kiss your head, cradling your face in his palms, "gracias a Dios te encontré". [ thank god i found you. ]
you motion to the seat infront of you, letting the cat that now watched interestedly onto the floor so you could tuck your legs beneath the table, "what do you want ?"
carlos sighs, hanging his head before taking your hand and intertwining your fingers, he rests his forehead on your conjoined hands, "i'm sorry, i'm so so sorry. i told fred that- that i don't want to be talking to sponsors, y'know-" he looks up at you, kissing your hand gently, "like that, especially on my down time. and that i won't be staying in the office after 5pm."
you blink at him slowly, tightening your fingers, "oh.. good."
he finds your embarrassed gaze, and locks your eyes together, his caramel pools glistening beneath the sunlight that streamed in through the large windows. your stare softens, "i forgive you carlos." reaching forward, you brush away the hair that had fallen onto his forehead.
"you do ? i had so much grovelling left to do." he mumurs, glancing nervously to his side.
"did you seriously buy me something, already ? it's been-" you check your watch, "-3 hours ?"
"there was a plan in place Niña bonita. " [ pretty girl ] he reaches to his left and places the small black bag infront of you, "open it."
smirking, you begin to reach into the ominous container and retrieve a medium sized velvet box- as you pop it open, you gasp, "oh wow, it's beautiful."
nestled within, was a gold necklace, small diamonds hanging from the last few delicate chain links and in the middle, sat a chili pendant, petite rubies be-dazzling the body of the charm.
"i bought it a few days ago, i was waiting for the perfect moment to give it to you, but this seemed more appropriate." carlos took the jewellery in his hands and gestured for you to come closer.
craning your neck forward, you laugh quietly to yourself as you watch him stuggle with the clasp before grinning victoriously and retracts his hands away from your nape.
you take his face in your hands, "i love you." you declare as you kiss his pouted lips. he holds your wrists that rest against his jaw, running his thumb back and forth against your pulsee before whispering against your mouth,
"i love you more."
ᡣ𐭩 ⎯⎯ LANDO NORRIS 4
you stomped up to the door before banging on the wood angrily, "lando norris" you huff, "get out of this room right now."
"what ?" Lando wretched the door open, staring down at you, visibly annoyed.
"it has been 3 hours, since you have even stepped out of this room. now it is the winter break, you cannot possible think i will allow you to train on the sim for this long."
He opened his mouth to retaliate when gratingly familiar voices began to laugh and, "ohh" in the background.
"are you streaming ?" crossing your arms over, you're half tempted to push past his fuming chest and unplug the entire setup.
" so what ? you said i'm on break, i can stream if i want to." his voice began to raise dangerously.
"not when i told you that i cooked dinner," you poked his chest, making him blink, "that it's your favourite-" you poked again, "and especially not when i made that fucking tiramisu which you kept on going on and on about from japan." you push him, hard, before stalking out to the kitchen.
"wait ! " he called out, the sound of him shuffling and the door clicking closed made you grind your teeth when he didn't appear down the hallway.
Already packing up the food and placing it into the fridge carefully, you remained stoic to the fact that he had finally appeared behind you, wringing his hands as he watched you.
"babe ? "
"babe ? "
"bab-" "what."
you turn around on your heel, growling and if he were to open his mouth to say anything, steam would most likely begin to shoot out of your ears.
Lando stared at you, still playing with his fingers, "i wanted to- uhm," he gulped when you crossed over your arms, "say that i'm sorry." he whimpered.
"you're sorry ?"
"yeah."
"so," you guffaw, "i slave over the stove for hours, cooking, whipping, mixing and you think that i'm here to serve you when all you say is a 'sorry' "
"...no ?" he cringed, squeaking when you slithered past him towards the dining table and drag out a chair before taking a seat, "i don't see the big deal."
"you don't see the big deal ? " you pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes.
"no."
"no ? " you parrot, holding your face in fear that if your hands were to be free, you would strangle him.
"i really don't ."
Inhaling deeply, you attempt to find your inner peace. for both of your sakes.
"lando, it has been 2 weeks of you being back home. 14 days. 336 hours and god knows how many minutes. and throughout that time, you have not touched me," you put up a finger, "you refuse to kiss me nearly as much as you did when you were out of the continent," another finger, "and someone would think you need glasses because you never seem to be looking at me, ever."
Lando's mouth popped open, eyes darting around your face in search of a viable answer, "I-"
"and lord," you scoff, "when i go to make a romantic dinner, in hopes that you could sustain eye-contact for more than a millisecond. you go and forget that as well." covering your mouth, you dip your head down, avoiding his crumpled expression to sob into your hands.
"Are you crying ? "
"i'm not," you retort, sniffing obnoxiously.
"then what are you doing ?"
" they're called allergies. it's the pollen."
"babe," you feel his once distant presensce come and crouch down to your level, warm palms braced on your knees, "its winter."
"i know," you weep, pressing your forehead into his shoulder.
"i'm sorry my love," he pleads, bumping the crown of his head gently with yours, "im so so sorry, i didn't mean to."
you shake your head pitifully, "yes you did. you think i'm ugly" you blubber.
"no- what ? NO ?" he takes your face in his hands, smooshing your cheeks together, "you're beautiful and the only thing that's ugly is my behaviour, i should've paid more attention to you, and i didn't." Lando kissed you tenderly, fingers brushing your hair away from your wet face, "but don't you dare say that you're anything short of stunning."
"shmokay," you lisp, tongue poking through your puckered lips, "shu hungry ?"
you smile contently when he wipes your cheeks and pecks your closed eyelids, "yeah... but not for food."
ᡣ𐭩 ⎯⎯ MAX VERSTAPPEN 1
" come on schat, i said i was sorry." Max tries for what seeemed to be the fiftieth time.
" will sorry bring back the 2 hours i spent outside, looking like an idiot ?" you plant your hands on your hips, staring him down.
Max slaps his head a few times before slowly approaching you, padding his way past the bed, "I have a job, Liefde" he presses his hands together and aims his fingers at you whilst gritting his teeth.
"oh, and i don't ? " you smack his aggitating hands away from your nose, "someone call wallstreet, i've been trading illegally. since apparently, my liscence and MB- fucking - A was for nothing . "
"you being on the phone and playing with money, is different from me driving a deathbox every week. hoe kun je de twee zelfs vergelijken ?" [ how can you even compare the two? ] he eununciates.
You gasp, half tempted to smash your stilleto heel into his poised foot, but decide against it when he follows your gaze and peices together your attack, already shuffling his foot away.
"max- i will not stand here and take this from you. i trade stocks you race jumbo bumper cars."
your voice reaches a new decible as you attempt to get through his thick skull.
"now either you can apologise, or else i'm walking out of the door. because i am done explaining to you how to be a good boyfriend " you point outside the bedroom which you both were currently shouting in.
Max crossed his arms, challenging your threat.
"really ?" you ask, appalled but nonetheless collect your purse from the floor and begin to leave the threshold.
Max hums, catching your eye when you turn around, already pivoting at the corner of the doorway. He shrugs, moving to the bed to sit down and yawn nonchalantly.
You blink a few times before leaning back into the room to snatch up the keys to his pista from the dresser, "fuck you."
and with that, you left the apartment. and max, whose words were beginning to dawn on him.
your feet were beginning to ache with how much you were walking and it was almost 200% confirmed, that blood was begining to pool into the expensive interior.
the sun was starting to set from it's afternoon high point and you watched it whilst continuing on your journey down the sidewalk, already having charged an alarming amount of shopping on max's card, you were nursing a grande cup of the most expensive coffee monaco would offer.
The pista sat 10km away from you, full to the brim with your shopping, so when it began to approach you parrallel on the road, your eyebrows shot up and you were prepared to throw the steaming drink into the drivers window as it rolled down.
"schat- why is there so much shopping in here ? "max asked, guidinng the car dangerously close to the pavement.
"you should know since i charged it to your account. " you clutch your to-go cup to your chest.
Max's eyes widened as he pulled his foot off the accelarator to twist his body back and take in the sheer amount of bags that were pilled into the backseat.
"is there a problem ? " you blink at him innocently, still walking towards what appeared to be the public beach.
he turned back to you, irises huge as saucers before he cleared his throat and shook his head, "nope" his voice cracked, "not at all."
"good" you harumphed, "on my measly sallary, i couldn't afford to buy all of it. thankfully i had your card with me."
Max grimaced at your words, "please just get in, people will think i'm hustling you."
"i hope they do. imagine max verstappen 3X world champion pays for sex ? on the tabloids."
He scoffed and stopped the car, no longer entertaining your trek since your determined trot had morphed into an embarrasing limp and your eyes were starting to water.
"please get into the car, you're in pain."
"no-" you sniffed, wiping your eyes, "no i'm not, my only pain is that my boyfriend doesn't think my job is serious enough or something." you wave a hand over your face, lip wobbling.
You're too busy trying not to sob into your hands to notice that max had parked the car and was currently slamming the door shut to come comfort you, "no, no i do- i think it's serious."
his arms wrap around you as he guides your back again the car, hiding your face into his chest to kiss the crown of your head, "i'm sorry for getting mad and saying those stupid things. it was uncalled for."
you look up at him, chin resting on his shirt, "..and ?"
"and..." he huffs, "i'm sorry for not meeting you at the resturant for lunch and not telling you that i wouldn't be able to make it since my meeting ran over."
you smile at him, giggling under your breath when his hand comes up to wipe your tears away, "my job is super serious, you were mean." you pout.
"yes- i was mean."
biting your lip guility, you take a deep inhale, "and i shouldn't have called your job 'jumbo bumper cars' "
max laughs and kisses your lips softly, "yeah- i think i deserved it."
you grin against his mouth, winding your hands around his neck as he presses you against his chest, hugging you tighter, "yeah you did. but im sorry nonetheless"
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𑣲 RENEWAL. ft. DAN (F)HENG
⠀ — it is not he that is familiar to you, nor you to him.
⠀ OR
⠀ — time and reincarnation aren’t enough to ever make you truly forget each other.
⚠︎ angst if you squint, fluff, mild hsr spoilers? thank u to the high cloud quintet for having the most heart breaking lore, i listened to memory by toby fox on repeat while writing this.
dan heng wasn’t sure what to feel when his eyes met yours.
familiarity? no, that’s not possible. he’s never met you.
nostalgia? no, that too was not possible. he cannot name one person who your eyes could possibly remind him of.
…what was it? what was it that had left dan heng unable to will his gaze to move somewhere else? surely the intense eye contact was leaving you uncomfortable, even he was beginning to feel squirmy in his own skin as you stared back at him with an equal intensity.
dan heng can feel something in the deepest pit of his mind, leaking down and adding to the tense knot in his gut.
yet, the feeling isn’t…unwelcome.
it’s warm. it’s akin to a comforting hand on his shoulder, or a small squeeze to his fingers. he could not, no matter how hard he tried, recall a time such a sensation had left him so utterly speechless.
“dan heng?”
it’s welt’s voice that finally pulled him out of his trance, his eyes blinking rapidly a few times before he turned his head to look at the older man.
“sorry. what was that?”
dan heng shook his head as if to rid himself of the thoughts of you. what was your name again? yukong had just informed him. not that he was really listening, anyway.
the conversation between his crew and the sky-faring commissions helm master continued on, talk of stellarons and something about the cloud knight’s general. dan heng couldn’t seem to focus despite his efforts.
another voice calls out to him just before he can depart alongside caelus and march, however this time it is not the deep and rough voice of his companion, but one that is much sweeter, and seems to strike a chord somewhere within him.
“dan heng?”
he turns around and is once more met with your eyes. dan heng willed himself to blink and nod before he could be entranced by them once more.
“i apologize, but…”
you trailed off before you were able to get the words out of your mouth, and there you found yourself back in the odd silence the two of you had just broken out of.
“…have we met before?”
you asked, and it finally clicked with dan heng where he had seen only snippets and flashes of you before.
my dreams, he thought. the dreams that haunted him night in and night out, but would occasionally grant him just a glance of a peaceful memory.
“no. we haven’t.”
you’re an amicassador of the sky-fairing commission, one brought on board long after he was banned from the ship that you called home. your meeting at any point before now would have been impossible.
yet, his mind drifts to the occasional memory he has only when deep in slumber.
“yingxing gifted me this.”
he looks down at you, head in his lap as you pull a small jade coin out of your pocket, a fine “永” carefully carved into the surface.
“he has too much time on his hands now that jing yuan is growing.”
your chuckle is soothing to his ears, the sound like a balm applied directly to his soul.
your face is unclear, almost as if his eyes are unfocused. yet your voice is unmistakable.
“i don’t disagree.”
is all he responds, fingers idly pushing a few stray hairs behind your ear as he looks down at you. although he can’t see it, he can feel the grass he and you reside on, smell the pollen off the fresh flowers the breeze blows towards him, can feel the sun on his skin.
“you’re sure?” you question again, voice just as calming as he was sure he’d imagined until now.
“you just���“ you chuckle a bit, almost awkwardly. “—seem so familiar, is all.”
you try to approach the topic subtly, but you truly did know him. from your own dreams, the ones you had that woke you in a cold sweat from just how real and jarring they felt, regardless of whether they were mild or sweet in nature. they conjured such emotion in you.
“baiheng was telling me of reincarnation.”
you muse to him, sitting with one hand on the ground just over his crossed legs, leaving you leaning across him.
“do you believe in such a thing?”
“of course.”
he nods, hand naturally finding it’s place on your waist.
“don’t you?”
“i don’t think so.”
you reach your free hand out to play mindlessly with the silver trim of his robes.
“it’s a nice thought, though.”
dan feng can only hum quietly.
“some day,” he began, drawing your attention back up to his face. “after i reach my end, i’ll come back to find you.”
the small tug of his lips could only be described as a smirk, but it felt softer than that.
“to prove it to you.”
you tilt your head teasingly, brow cocked.
“how will you recognize me?”
“I would know you blind.”
he can feel his chest warm as you smile at him.
“i’ll hold you to that.”
“sorry.” dan heng bowed his head lightly.
“but we haven’t met before.”
he was being truthful, you hadn’t. it was your past lives that you two had been acquainted, had formed a bond so strong that it appeared to have transcended death itself.
dan heng did not wish to have dan feng’s deeds or past haunt him any more than they already do. the urge he felt to sit and talk with you, to perhaps hold your hand or touch your face would surely only lead him down a path he’d apparently gone down centuries ago.
“right.”
you nod at him, bowing yourself.
“sorry to keep you, it was nice to meet you.”
dan heng was released and regrouped with his crew, march and caelus bickering about something or the other and walking ahead of him. he decided to stay a bit further behind with welt.
his decision quickly regretted when welt gave him a knowing look, the lines on the older man’s forehead deepening as his eyebrows pushed together.
“you know them.”
“i know who they used to be. that’s all.”
welt can read the room well enough to know to end the topic there. dan heng had never enjoyed or been keen on talking of dan feng, and being back on the xianzhou alone had already left him with an unusual tension in his shoulders.
even as he walked away, moving up to engage in conversation with the sillier two of the quadrant, dan heng couldn’t shake you from his head. your smile, the way you held yourself as yukong introduced you, the small laugh that he had not expected would weave itself so deeply in his chest.
he kept walking on anyway. dan heng was not him.
⠀ 𑣲 MASTERLIST / GOT A REQUEST ?
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Time For Toys and Time For Cheer - Eddie Munson x Reader
An As You Wish story
Collaboration with the El to my Max, @munson-blurbs
Summary: When Brittany’s Christmas presents for the boys come in, it’s evident that “it’s the thought that counts” doesn’t apply.
Note: Jingle bells, Brittany smells, please enjoy this fic today!
Warnings: mild violence, Eddie being a perv, Brittany being Brittany
Words: 2.3k
[As You Wish masterlist]
“Oh, you’ve got to be shitting me.”
Eddie lets the scissors drop down onto his mattress as you peer into the box he just opened. Seeing Brittany’s name on a box when you picked up the mail for your boyfriend was enough to irk you for the rest of the day—especially since Eddie wouldn’t open it until after the kids were in bed because it’s probably their Christmas gifts. The silver lining though, was that you saw Brittany is going by her maiden name again. You hope to God she changed it legally; she doesn’t deserve to be a Munson.
The box did contain gifts for the boys but as you look inside you see what pissed your boyfriend off. You reach in and pick up a box of Legos that were made for a kid half Ryan’s age. The Blue’s Clues coloring book that Eddie takes out is just as insulting. Should she get credit for knowing Ryan likes Legos and Luke likes coloring books? Not in your opinion. Not when she lived with them for most of their lives. Not when she gave birth to them and should know how old they are and that these presents are not age appropriate.
“Is this really a bunch of Lego kids on a bus? Oh look, they’re soccer players on a bus.” You scoff and roll your eyes as you set the gift back in the box it was shipped in. “Yeah, ‘cause Ryan loves sports so much.” Eddie’s eldest was in agreement with his father that sports are stupid. You think his mother would’ve known that. Then again, his mother is Brittany.
“He’d put that together in less than five minutes,” Eddie says, nodding towards the Lego set. He sets the coloring books back inside as well and pulls out a small white paper that got stuck to the bottom of the box. “Looks like they’re from Wal-Mart. Nice of her to send a gift receipt. Almost as if she knew her presents were shit.”
Any irritation you feel for Brittany doesn’t come close to the love you have for Luke and Ryan, and you’d do everything in your power to make sure they have a wonderful Christmas.
“Think Wayne will watch them for a few hours after dinner one night?” you ask, eyes scanning over the gift receipt before meeting Eddie’s deep brown ones.
“If we buy him a mug, he might watch them for the whole weekend.” Eddie puts the gift receipt back in the box and closes it. He looks over at you and an adoring grin grows on his face. “I fucking love you, babe.” He takes your face in his hands and presses a wet, smacking kiss to your forehead.
Eddie falls a little bit deeper in love with you every time you do something for the boys without any hesitation. And since it’s a frequent occurrence, it’s safe to say that he’s head-over-heels for you.
A few nights later, Eddie brings the car to a stop in front of his uncle’s trailer. He puts it in park and looks over his shoulder at his sons in the backseat. Ryan doesn’t seem bothered one bit that he’s being dropped off at his grandfather’s. Luke, on the other hand, looks like you and Eddie just told him he’ll never be able to eat another cookie again in his life.
When Eddie’s eyes meet Luke’s blue ones, the little boy groans and drops his head back against his seat, curls smooshing around his head like a halo.
“Why can’t we go with you?” he whines.
“Luke,” Eddie says with a chuckle. “You hate clothes shopping for yourself. Let alone anyone else.”
“Yeah,” you say as you turn to face him as well. “And I can take forever in dressing rooms. I can never decide what I like better.”
“Plus,” Eddie adds with a smirk, knowing a foolproof way to get the boys out of the car, “you really wanna come with us and watch us kiss the whole night?”
The moment Eddie leans in towards you, both boys groan and Ryan slaps his hand over his eyes. Checkmate.
Luke is quick to scramble out of the car, his older brother right behind him.
“Go!” Luke practically shouts. “Take your time! Make sure you get a nice dress.”
“Yeah,” Ryan adds. “Has to look nice for your work party.”
It’s hard for both you and Eddie to keep a lid on your laughter while the boys are all but pushing your car down the road to get you away from them.
“Be good,” Eddie calls out the open window.
“Yeah, yeah…” Luke mumbles as he trudges up the front steps of the trailer. Ryan follows behind him and gives you and Eddie a wave before they head inside the house.
The moment they’re inside, Eddie turns to you and raises his eyebrows.
“Can we buy you a new dress?” he asks.
“Why?” you ask with a laugh. “You’ll want me to buy a sexy one, then not want me to wear it out anywhere and let people see me in it.”
“Ah, fuck,” he mumbles as he puts the car in drive.
“Maybe after we return the baby-fied toys that are in the trunk and get the new ones, we can look at some lingerie, though?” you tease.
“Deal.”
The Wal-Mart parking lot is a madhouse; Eddie circles it three times before finally snagging a spot all the way at the back. He scoops the presents from the trunk and the two of you make a beeline for the return counter, with you holding onto his jacket sleeve to avoid losing him in the crowd.
“Okay,” Eddie says, once you’ve secured the gift card that contains the store credit. He looks at you with sheer determination. “We gotta divide and conquer. You shop for Ryan, and I’ll shop for Luke.”
You make your way to the Lego aisle; Brittany had the right idea, but the wrong execution. After perusing the shelves for something more age-appropriate, your gaze lands on a kit to build a Statue of Liberty replica.
Just as you grab it, you feel someone tugging on the other side. “Um, sorry, I’m taking this one,” you try to explain, willing your voice not to waver as it often does during confrontation.
The man who’d reached for it as well scowls at you. “Yeah, I don’t think so.” He yanks it from your grasp triumphantly. There’s a nasty sneer on his face as he looks down his nose at you. He’s around Eddie’s height, bald as a cue ball, and has a beer belly that’s larger than most pregnant women’s bumps.
“Hey! What the hell’s your problem?” The words slip from your mouth before you can stop them.
The man smirks menacingly. “What’re you even doing in this aisle? The Easy Bake Ovens are down that way.”
When he points to his left and lets his guard down, you seize the opportunity to pull the Lego set from him.
“What d’you think you’re doing, bitch?” He reaches out a meaty hand to snatch it back, but he’s jerked back by his collar.
“You calling my wife a ‘bitch’?” Eddie growls, eyes blazing with fury. You can’t remember the last time you saw him this angry. He shoves the man, now wide-eyed and fearful, into a display of Tonka trucks, which catches the attention of a security guard.
He marches over to the men, waving his hands and shouting. “Hey, break it up!” The guard pulls Eddie away from the man. “You two,” he looks between Eddie and the guy, “get outta here!”
Eddie sputters. “Wha—no, he called my wife a bitch!” he tries to protest, but the guard just pushes him toward the exit. “This is bullshit!”
Despite the gravity of the situation, you can’t help but feel butterflies at the way he said, “my wife.” It has a much better ring to it than just, “my girlfriend” or even “my fiancée.”
Your awestruck demeanor vanishes as you stare at the back of Eddie’s head in disbelief while the security guard leads him away. You’re left hanging in limbo, unsure if you should follow him out or buy the toy—he is going through a lot of trouble for it, and you’d hate for his efforts to be for naught.
As if he can read your mind, Eddie looks over his shoulder and gives you a wink. “You know what Luke likes, baby,” he calls out.
You can only nod as you hold onto the Lego box for Ryan.
“Meet you in the car,” Eddie says before turning back around, wincing when the guard shoves him out the door.
It’s hard to shake off the fact that Eddie just got kicked out of the store and proceed to shop as though nothing has happened, but you know you need to find something for Luke. Something that isn’t made for a preschool demographic.
“Okay, Legos for Ryan. Luke still likes coloring books. Just not Winnie the Pooh ones.” Brittany was at least on the right track with her gifts for the boys—just a good number of years behind.
The coloring books are a few aisles over and you chew on your bottom lip as you check out the collection. There are lots of Disney ones full of princesses and mice, but Luke only really enjoys the movies made by The Mouse, not any toys or games.
Scooby Doo catches your eye and as soon as you pick that one up, you see a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles book.
“Hmm…” you hum, but then chuckle to yourself. Of course he gets more than one.
You cradle those two books in your arm with the Lego set and also grab Pokémon and a monster truck one.
You’re welcome, Brittany, you think. You sent three but now he’s going to think you sent him four. None of this is for Brittany’s sake—both you and Eddie know that. The boys would be the ones disappointed, not their mother. There will come a day when they recognize her absence and carelessness, but you don’t want to help point it out; you just want to show them love and support.
On the way to the register, you do a double take when you see a mostly empty shelf of wrapping paper. Brittany didn’t bother to wrap the presents before she sent them, but that’s something else the kids don’t need to know.
Making sure to get a paper that’s very different from any of the ones back at the apartment, you add a Frosty the Snowman roll to the pile in your arms. This way, they’ll differentiate these from the presents left by Santa.
Most of the registers are crowded, which makes you huff, but you’ve had your share of fighting for the evening. Instead, you wait silently until the woman behind you in line starts speaking to you. “Last minute shopping for your kids, too?” she says with a laugh.
You nod. “Yeah, it’s been quite the adventure,” you offer, not wanting to relay the near-WWE match that occurred in the toy section.
“I’ll bet,” she chuckles, hoisting a toy Batmobile. “Boys or girls?”
The question catches you off-guard for a moment. “Boys. Two of them.”
She shakes her head. “I can’t imagine having two sons. I have one, and he’s a menace.”
You smile. “Yeah, but they’re my menaces.”
On Christmas morning you’re not entirely sure what’s up first: the sun or the boys. Eddie looks like a zombie as the two of you initially follow the boys out to the living room. Once they see the tree and the mountain of presents scattered about, their joy and excitement are almost as good as a cup of coffee in waking you and your boyfriend up.
Heaps of wrapping paper pile up as they tear open their gifts: action figures and Hot Wheels for Luke, books and science kits for Ryan, and a handful of VHS tapes for them to share.
Once the heap of presents begins to dwindle down to the last handful, Eddie stands up.
“Don’t wanna forget the gifts from Mom.”
The boys instinctively glance at you before they realize that their dad is referring to Brittany.
Eddie hands them the carefully wrapped packages, assessing their expressions to gauge their excitement.
“No way, this is the Lego set I wanted!” Ryan cheers, beaming at the toy.
Luke is equally impressed with his gift. “Yes! New coloring books!” He stands up and does a little happy dance that looks very reminiscent of something you’d see one of The Peanuts characters doing.
Eddie smiles, knowing all the bullshit of dealing with Brittany, in the past, present, or future, is worth it to keep his boys happy.
“You guys wanna call Mom and thank her?” Eddie asks.
They nod, racing each other to the phone so they can get back to playing as soon as possible. There’s a part of you—a petty part—that hopes their phone call wakes Brittany up from a peaceful sleep. Just because you play nice for the kids doesn’t mean you can’t have small moments of joy at the thought of that woman being inconvenienced.
“Your kids are crazy,” Eddie says to you, plopping back onto the couch and flinging his arm over your shoulder. “You should really rein them in.”
You give an exaggerated sigh and shake your head. “I’ve tried, but their father is even worse. Just enables the insanity.”
Eddie laughs, kissing your cheek before tilting your chin towards him so he can press his lips to yours.
“Merry Christmas, my love.”
“Merry Christmas, Eddie.”
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