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#almost 3 years of a break is scary
kochana-lulu · 1 year
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it’s official guys
we are coming back to arts and we are not afraid this time
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sonofsin · 2 months
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ah. very glad to hear our debt has finally been settled and we won't need to worry about collections again.
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spore2008 · 2 months
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two more weeks of work,,,,,,,,
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ponderingmoonlight · 7 months
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Levi being separated from his wife for years after joining the scouts but finding his way back to her
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Pairing: husband!Levi x fem!reader
Word Count: 2,7k
Synopsis: Just before Erwin was about to catch you in the underground city, Levi begs you to stay behind and promises to return. Years pass, years in which he never reached out once. Until an unexptected visitor knocks on your door.
Warnings: heavy angst to comfort, the last part is not proofread so have mercy, please let me know what you think as this is the second aot fanfic I'm posting <3
Tags: @lees-chaotic-brain @sanicsmut @levislegislation
Click here for a cute little spin off
You move with almost frightening speed around the countless buildings, escaping the hands of the blonde male behind you by razor’s edge. Why the hell are the survey corps so much stronger than the military police? So skilled with the 3D manoeuvre gear that it’s almost scary, haunting after you so fast that it’s getting harder and harder to escape their grasps. But everything is going according to plan, right? You need to get yourself caught, you need to join the survey crops, you-
“Move to the left. Just keep going and don’t look back. You are skilled enough to escape them alone.”
Your glossy eyes dart towards your husband in disbelief. No, he can’t be serious about what he just said. That would mean…
“But we’ll get separated”, you argue.
Levi is fully aware of what he’s asking from you. But given the neck-breaking speed and the skills of the people behind you, the risk of getting caught is greater than the benefit of staying together. And that man…Even though he promised you the world, Levi could tell by the sound of his voice that he isn’t trustworthy. He might go to hell, he might die in the process, but you.
There is absolutely no way in hell he’ll risk your life.
At least you’d be safe, even if it means he’ll be away from you for some time.  
“I never intended on taking you with me, (y/n). If we’ll get separated, I will come and find you here. I promise.”
His words don’t make any sense while you shake your head in mistrust. But you agreed on going together, all four of you. Why would you stay behind, why would he even suggest something like that?
“(y/n), I don’t want to lose you because of a mission. Please, move left.”
You don’t know what to do, mind completely clouded by anger, fear and uncertainty. You would trust your husband with everything, laying your life right into his hands. But this? This means you might never see again, this means he’ll leave you here for who knows how long, this means your husband could lose his life for freedom.
“But what if I lose you?”
“You will never lose me. I promise I’ll come back to you, just trust me with this one. I love you, (y/n).”
You take a deep breath, the next intersection coming closer and closer. It’s time to make a decision.
Will you move left like Levi begged you to or will you move right and followi him like you initially planned?  
With a load of gas you propel yourself past a building, moving with horrendous speed down the tight side streets of the underground.
One last glance. One last glance into the eyes of the man who is the only light in your life, one last glance into the cold blue eyes of the man who is now chasing after him.
“You better come back to me, Levi Ackerman”, you mutter to yourself while holding back bitter tears.
-a few years later-
“Take it or leave it. I will find someone else who’ll buy it.”
“Are you up on sale too?”
That’s enough. With a swift motion, you pierce through the man’s dirty hand with your knife before turning around and leaving his house in company of his pathetic screams.
It’s been years. Years since Levi go taken away from you by that blonde man with blue eyes, years since he promised that he’ll come back.
But he never did. With fast and skilled motions, you swing around, making your way back home before the military police starts getting on your nerves again.
Everything seems so cold since he left. Your worn-down house, the bed you used to share, your whole fucking life. Who knows what happened after they got caught. Are all of them still alive? Maybe something went wrong, maybe they die-
No. You shake your head vehemently. This is simply not possible. Levi Ackerman would never die through the hands of a titan, let alone a member of the survey corps. That’s absolutely impossible, unbelievable to say the least. Maybe he started a new life on the surface with his friends, lying under the sun right now while eating the most exquisite food.
Good for him. If you weren’t still stuck in this hell.
A few harsh knocks on the door rip you out of your dreams.
“Who the hell is this?”, you grumble to yourself.
You don’t expect any visitors today. To be exact, you never expected anyone to visit you. So who could this be? The man you threatened before? The military police officers you stole from? Whatever, you will figure it out somehow.
But when you open the door, you aren’t greeted by the face of a disgusting officer. No, you stare right into ice-blue eyes.
“When will you finally let me get her?”
He missed you every single day since you parted your way back then in the underground city. How are you? What are you doing? Are you even alive? Levi’s hands clenched into fist just by the thought of it. Countless lonely night that felt so empty without you by his side, countless people he lost during the process. If you knew what happened…
“Is a woman really that important to you? She must be someone really special if you’re still asking about her”, Erwin commented, staring at the captain sitting in front of him with eagle eyes.
Yes, he does remember you. The girl who took the left path back then, the only one him and his squad weren’t able to catch.
“She is my wife. If you don’t allow me to get her, I will quit my service”, Levi suddenly barked at his commander.
How unexpected. Even though Erwin could tell that you’ve meant something to him when he decided to leave you in the underground city, he never thought his relations to you would go that deep.
“Fine, if that’s what you wish I’ll go and escort her.”
“I will get her myself-“
“You have a job to do, remember? I will take Moblit with me, it shouldn’t take long, given she cooperates.”
Did he even have a choice? One look into Erwin’s face showed him more than urgent that this is nothing to be discussed. And even though he hates to admit it, somehow Erwin is right. These brats were unpredictable, along with Hange.
“Fine”, Levi finally grumbled.
As long as you’ll finally be back in his arms, he won’t complain.
“You”, you hiss through gritted teeth.
Your whole body begins to tremble in thick rage, eyes darting right through his spoiled soul. His eyes haunted you in your dreams, how he talked to your husband back then, how they pushed his gorgeous face into the dirt. You will never forgive him. No, nothing in the world could make you forgive the blonde man in front of you who stole your life away from you so cruel.
“Where is Levi?”
“Maybe if you calm down-“
“SHUT UP”, you immediately interrupt the other man behind him.
“You will pay for all these fucking years I had to live without him. You will pay for every sleepless night, for every tear that I cried. You will pay with your own pathetic life!”
With a swift motion, you lower the knife out of your sleeve, ready to hit his carotid artery with full force.
Until you suddenly fall to the ground, the last thing you are able to see being this asshole’s boots before everything turns black…
“I…hate…y-“
Silence, darkness, nothingness.
“You didn’t have to hit her this hard. Levi will definitely make you pay for punching his wife”, Erwin comments dryly before gently lifting your numb body over his shoulder.
“His wife, huh? No wonder she’s so feisty, what a pain in the ass”, Moblit remarks.
“I understand her anger. After all, I hid her husband for multiple years from her. Let’s see how she acts when she wakes up…”
-back at the base camp-
“Who’s this woman?”, Eren mumbles into his best friend’s ear, staring at the lifeless female body laying in front of Erwin’s feet.
“They just came back with her. But nobody seems to know who she is”, Armin clarifies.
Everything hurts. Your back, your head, your limbs feel like falling off every second. You feel like hit by a horse…Did the military police catch you? Did someone come for you? Impossible…
You rub your head, lids blinking against the harsh light. Where the hell are you? And why is it so damn bright here? This definitely isn’t the candle in the middle of your bedroom.
You lift your trembling limbs off the ground, groaning when a new wave of nausea rolls over you. God, why do you feel so bad? You can’t even remember what happened last. You were at the underground, you made a deal with that asshole, you returned home, it knocked.
It knocked.
Your eyes widen in pure horror when his face lights up in your head. He. He was there. The man who stole your life from you, the man who took your husband with him.
“I’m glad you’re awake, he should return every minute-“
“You.”
Your eyes roam around without an aim until his cold blue eyes meet yours.
“You took everything from me!” you scream on top of your lungs.
The air around you heats up immediately, all the voices quieting down in an instant when your trembling index finger darts towards commander Erwin Smith.
“You took my life from me, you stole my husband and now you kidnap me! I’ve had enough, you’ll pay for all your sins, for how miserable you made my life! Do you know how many lonely nights I begged for him to return, that I even started praying for him to come back home to me? You promised freedom but caged me to the underground in my hopeless dream of him returning someday!”
Again, you shoot towards him with your knife in your hand. Fuck, you hate the way hot tears start to sting in your eyes and take your sight, but you can’t help yourself. This man in front of you is the epitome of living hell, the reason you suffered all these goddamn years. You aim for his neck, ready to slice him open like a fish along with a toe-curling scream that escapes your trembling lips.
“Don’t.”
The sheer force of a pair of fingers wrapped around your wrist is enough to make you stop. This almost sounded like…
“Levi.”
“I have to explain all this to you calmly. Please put down your knife, (y/n).”
“You have some fucking nerve”, you mutter under your breath, eyes darting towards him for the first time in years.
He looks just like you remember him, figure roaming over you for a few inches, eyes as calm as the ocean, hair neatly trimmed. Yes, he is just as attractive as you remembered.
And alive.
And this is the first time you see him, after so many years.
“Where have you been all this time, huh?”, you cry out.
You free yourself out of his grasp, now storming towards him.
“What about the promise you made back then, that you’ll return to me?”
Your hands push against his firm chest harshly, fists slamming over and over against his tight muscles while all he does is standing there.
“You left me without saying goodbye, without even thinking about me twice. Do you know how much I cried that day, how much I missed my fucking husband?”
Tears stream down your face like a waterfall, voice so hoarse that it’s hard to cough out a single word that makes sense.
“Why didn’t you come back? Why did you leave me in the dark? Why-“
He can’t hold back any longer. Before you continue your ramblings, before you are able to hit him again, Levi wraps his arms around you and buries his face in the crook of your neck. God, how much he missed this, how much he missed the simplicity of holding his wife in his arms.
“I love you, (y/n)”, he breathes against your ear.
You see stars, feel like fainting, want to push him away while all you want is to be held at the same time. Countless nights you imagined what it would be like to meet him again, countless nights you pondered about his life, where he might live, what he is doing.
And now he’s standing in front of you, pressing you tightly against his firm body while all you can do is break down and cry in his inviting arms.
“Back then, I have asked you to move left because I feared what lies behind the walls. And I was right, (y/n). The things I saw, the countless lives the titans took. Isabel and Furan, they… They died on our first expedition. It wasn’t safe to drag you into this world. Even if I wanted nothing more than to hold you in my arms again, I figured it would be easier to know you live as far away from the titans and me than being in danger…”
“You idiot”, you spit into the face you learned to love long ago.
“I would rather die by your side than live alone at the safest place. Don’t you understand that all I wanted was to be with you?”
Your words echo through his mind, the past years replaying themselves in front of his eyes like a movie. It’s been so damn long. He should have asked about getting you sooner, he should have moved hell and earth to get you out of the underground.
“I’m sorry about all those years, (y/n). You were the only thing on my mind this whole time, I was longing for your touch, for your presence. I wrote a list of things I want to show you. I know how much I’m asking for, but please forgive me, please be by my side right here and now.”
Is it really this simple? Is one look in his lovely face enough to forget all those years you’ve waited for him? Your heart pounds hard against your ribcage, all pairs of eyes seem to be set on you. What are you supposed to do?
“A simple sorry won’t take away all those years I’ve waited for you.”
Levi swallows hard, this usual cool composure slowly but surely breaking away. Fuck, he messed up. He should have gone after you immediately, he should have ignored Erwin’s advice. If you leave him right here on the spot…His eyes widen in thick fear. No, this would completely tear him apart. After all, you are his precious wife, the love of his life, the only reason he kept going despite all the people that died in front of his eyes.
“But I won’t live in the past with regrets. I was hoping forward for this day so long, let’s enjoy it.”
And then you return his hug, wrapping your arms around his ribcage like you used to. Levi lets himself fall into your touch, soaks in the decent smell of citrons on your clothes. God, how much he missed this, how much he missed you.
“We will never return to the underground, my darling. Your place is right here under the sun.”
You press your lips against his hungrily, soaking up this precious moment. This is exactly how you imagined your reunion. Maybe a few years earlier, maybe being escorted by himself. But god, you can’t help but get lost against his mouth, your fingers re-discovering the valleys of his well-toned body.
“Huh, what’s going on here? HUH, DID I MISS SOMETHING!?”
Levi slowly removes his lips from yours, cold eyes staring darkly behind you. You follow his gaze, looking directly into the way too near face someone wearing glasses.
“This is my wife, shitty four-eyes. Can you stop bothering her?”
“WHAT? You never mentioned anything about a wife! Oh, what a gorgeous woman she is! And you’re just as small as Levi himself. Huh, maybe that’s what comes with living under the ground, right? But don’t worry, you will be just fine here! Apart from some titans here and there, and maybe titan shifters and don’t forget those-“
“Shut.Up.”, Levi hisses through gritted teeth.
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arachine · 9 months
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*slides a big fat twenty your way* uh how about a part two of that non traditional family dynamics with gojo
dinner and a disaster . . .
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synopsis :: when your oldest daughter is at that age where boys are starting to become the focal point of her universe, you bring out the big guns — which in this case, unfortunately happens to be her father (who is not exactly the best when it comes to disciplining his little girls).
or, in other words, you and gojo play good cop bad cop.
genre :: fluff
contents :: co-parent!gojo, mentions of alcohol, heavy dialogue, time skip (the girls are 14 and 12 respectively), gojo is in distress !!!!
note :: link to part 1 + link to part 3
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it's 10 pm when you text gojo about the latest happenings going on in your household.
it's also 10:01 pm when you answer his incoming face time call.
he's wrapped up in a fuzzy blanket, laying down on his bed with a pillow under his chin and a hand propped up to support his head—he's comfortable, to say the least, and 100% tuned in to hear about whatever it is that you just texted him.
"is this what you've been doing all day?" you query with a laugh. there's a brief look of confusion etched onto his face before he picks up on what you were implying. rolling his eyes, he scoffs.
"it was my day off," he pouts, "can't a man relax in his fuzzy blanket?"
you squint teasingly at the screen, then nod slowly before mouthing an 'uh-huh'.
"i didn't call you to get berated about my choice of blanket!"
"okay, okay! i'm sorry," you grab a napkin from your nightstand, waving it like a white flag of surrender. "such a baby..."
"says the one who could never take...you know what, i won't finish that."
"smart man," you smile. "i want to be mad at you sometimes but it's almost kinda impressive how easily you can change the atmosphere...i mean, wow! it's record-breaking, truly."
"ha...ha. alright. i overstepped my bounds, i get it. can we just...can we just get back to our daughter? i'm starting to regret calling you on my day off—which, by the way, was going so great."
"great, love that we're on the same page," you give him a thumbs up through the screen. before you can get into the nitty-gritty of the situation, you take a brief pause to prepare yourself for the dramatics about to ensue—because if you know anything about gojo satoru, you know he's definitely one for the dramatics.
"when i tell you this...i want you to stay calm, keep a level head, and most importantly, i want you not to scream," you say, opening your mouth again to emphasize the last part, "and it's important that you especially won't scream, okay?"
gojo mulls it over before committing, "i don't know...it depends on what you're gonna tell m-"
"just—just promise, gojo," you interrupt, clearly agitated.
"alright, i promise."
"okay, so there's a boy..."
you're mid-sentence when gojo's eye starts to twitch.
"and she's expressed to me that she wants to go on a date with him." when you finish, you're half expecting him to yell, and half expecting him to end the call. but he doesn't.
in fact, he's so still, you're almost convinced he's frozen, but then he begins to smile. slow at first, and then all at once. it's creepy, you think, something straight out of a horror film.
"i know this was a lot of information to process, are you...okay?"
"pfttt, what? of course, why wouldn't i be?"
"well, you look scary. maybe i shouldn't have told yo-"
"SHE WANTS TO WHAT?"
and there it is. gojo satoru, king of dramatics.
"my little girl, my baby, my princess. she's only 10!-"
"she's 14."
"same thing, how could you let this happen?!"
"what happened to not yelling?! you promised!"
"oh be serious, i made a vow to you 14 years ago and look where we are now," he whisper-yells, trying (and failing) to contain his voice.
"dammit, you're right...well, at least we're on the same page! we both don't want this date to happen." when you take another glance at the screen, gojo's no longer laying down on his bed, but up and pacing around his room like a mad man.
you watch him for awhile, and when he doesn't seem to be coming back any time you soon, you call his name, "satoru."
"what?!" he turns to the phone. glaring at him, you wait for him to check his tone. "sorry, what?"
"i was thinking tomorrow you could come over for dinner? it'd give us a chance to talk to her about it...so that it's not just me telling her no."
"so, what i'm hearing is that you want her to hate me too?"
"no, i'm saying i want us to be a team. so, can you come over tomorrow? can you do that?" you ask, raising a brow.
"yeah, i'll be there."
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at the same time the oven alarm goes off, gojo arrives. you can see his car pull into the drive way from where you are in the kitchen, and you mentally curse yourself for not getting ready sooner.
"fuck, uh okay," you throw your oven mitts, "hon, can you get the door for your dad? i need to go upstairs and get changed."
the youngest gets up from her place on the couch, "sure, wait...dad's staying for dinner? what's the occasion?"
you're halfway up the stairs before you stop, "enough questions, please. just open the door, thank youuuu."
ambling from the living room to the foyer, she opens the front door. gojo smiles, and immediately lifts her up into a bone-crushing hug that only a dad could give.
"hey bug, missed you," he squeezes her, much to her behest.
"ugh, dadddd, put me down," she drawls, pawing at his chest. gojo frowns and puts her down, putting a hand over his heart as if he were shot.
"you used to love that, you know."
"yeah, when i was like five."
"are you not?" he teases, but she's not amused. he nudges her arm annoyingly until she begins to smile. "there we go, punk. now can i have a real hug? you're hurting my feelings."
like a true pre-teen, she rolls her eyes and reluctantly trudges over to him, then opens her arms up for a hug. at this stage, you've noticed that hugs are okay, but only when it's on their own terms—and you especially can't initiate them when their friends are around (you learned that the hard way).
when they pull away, gojo takes his shoes off and wanders through the house. "where's the other brat at?"
"upstairs."
gojo nods, "uh-huh...where's your mom at?"
"right here." gojo hears you before he sees you, and then he lifts his head up to see you at the top of the stairs standing behind the banister. before you make your way downstairs, you waltz over to your daughter's room and knock on the door.
"hey, dinner's ready. come on downstairs. somebody's here to see you." as you begin turning around, the door flies open and out comes your moody teenage daughter.
"who is it?" she queries, following behind you like a duckling.
from where he stands at the bottom of the staircase, gojo raises a hand and waves.
"hey, scrub."
"dad? what are you doing here?" your oldest questions, but still goes in for a hug.
"your mom invited me over for dinner, that cool with you?"
she nods, then turns to her sister. they exchange a knowing look that, if translated, would be: something's definitely up. they wait for you and gojo to head to the kitchen before having a quick debrief.
"you definitely did something," the youngest side eyes.
"wha-why would you think i did something? you're the one failing a class," she rebuttals.
"ok well...this isn't about me! they only get together when one of us does something. don't you see? they're teaming up...this is an intervention."
the oldest pinches the space between her brows, "i can see why you're failing english now, because the way you just jumped to conclusions like that is actually insane."
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dinner goes by without a hitch. for majority of it, you spend the time talking about work, school (which seems like a sensitive subject because the youngest wouldn't look either of you in the eye), and the plot of this hbo show with adult kids who're trying to take over their father's company.
gojo brings it up, of course, and jokingly says that the show was written with him in mind. he asks the girls if they'll fight over who'll inherit the company when he dies, and it turns into a i'm the better daughter debate.
when it gets a little too rowdy, you have to remind them that this is all hypothetical and that their father is a menace who likes to cause chaos whenever possible. gojo pouts and says you're no fun, but quickly fixes his face when he sees your pointed glare.
"come help me with the dishes," you say, and then disappear into the kitchen.
the two of you fall back into old habits. you wash the dishes, he dries and sets them on the rack. it feels like it did in the beginning, only this time, he'll be leaving when the two of you set out to do what you originally intended.
"dinner was nice," he says after about 10 minutes of comfortable silence. he doesn't look up, doesn't even make a joke about your cooking (which, you were totally expecting him to do). instead, he just continues drying the plate you handed to him.
"you know, you're welcomed to come again. you don't always have to be away in that apartment all by yourself," you start, choosing your words carefully, gently. "the girls like eating with their dad."
"i like eating with them too. i guess i'll start coming by more often then."
you almost miss it but there's a smile on his face, and it's genuine. instead of pointing it out, you savor the moment.
your reasoning for his coming here was to talk to your daughter, but it was also to get him out of the apartment. see, you were sneaky like him too, and what he didn't know wouldn't kill him. to you, this was just hitting two birds with one stone.
when you finish up, the two of you discuss the plan over for what seems like the 100th time.
"so, we're gonna go in there and be cool about it, okay? we won't hound her. we're just gonna tell her like it is, and then let her down gently. got it?"
"got it."
"after you," gojo extends his arm.
"wha-ugh, fine."
as you lead the way, gojo has to keep a hand on your back to keep you from turning back around. so far, you've attempted to retreat five times—you're two feet away from the kitchen entrance.
"will you just go?" there's irritation laced in his tone.
"okay, just stop pushing me."
"no promises, keep walking."
you sigh, but heed his request. with a hand still on your back, he guides you all the way to the living room. the girls are watching tv but quickly avert their focus when they notice you standing next to the couch with a freakish smile plastered on your face. gojo whispers in your ear to be cool and you immediately gather your wits.
"mom...your face...dad what's wrong with her face she's scaring me," the youngest pauses the tv.
"sweetie, will you go upstairs for a minute? your dad and i have to talk to your sister."
seeming to be catching on, she gets up from the couch and says a 'told you' to her sister before running upstairs. you and gojo share a look.
"what's up?" she asks, still weirded out.
"you see, well...we've been talking and..." you start, "your father has something he wants to tell you!"
gojo snaps his head towards you, gasping in the same motion. "hey, what the hell happened to being cool?"
"no promises, remember?"
"oh, you litt-"
"dad."
"sorry, uh, shit. i wasn't prepared for this. this wasn't the plan," he begins, "so, i heard there's a boy...and...you're at that age where boys are cute..."
she looks at the two of you in abhor and groans. gojo pauses briefly, but you encourage him to continue.
"and i've come to understand that you're interested in one and want to go on a date?"
"yeah."
"oh...okay well, i—we just don't think that's a good idea. you're 14, in school, and honey, you're so young...you have your whole life to be interested in boys."
"wait, what do you mean 'we'?"
"your mom and i talked about it and-"
"mom said she was fine with it."
gojo smiles in shock and then blinks, once, twice, three times.
"we'll be back," he announces, pulling you by the arm to the kitchen.
when you get to the kitchen, he releases your arm and pinches the skin between his brows. it takes all of about five seconds before he erupts.
"'we're a team, satoru', 'we're in this together', bullshit! you wanted me to be the bad cop, didn't you?"
"not initial-"
"didn't you!"
"okay, sorry! i may have...gave in when she asked, but i figured you'd be able to tell her no!"
"why would you think that!? she's my little girl!"
"she's my little girl too!"
gojo walks over to the cabinet and pulls out a glass. "i can't right now, i need a drink. what do you have?"
opening another cabinet, you pull out a bottle of pink whitney. gojo sucks his teeth. it was such a girl drink, but it was all you had so beggars couldn't be choosers. shrugging, he raises his glass for you to pour the drink into.
grabbing another glass, you sit down and join him.
"we've been had, huh?"
"how is that?"
"because we both can't say no to her."
gojo raises his glass to his lips and swallows it all down in a few gulps.
your daughter goes on a date the following week, and gojo starts looking into trackers.
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© arachine 2023
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uglypastels · 2 years
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Following the Herd // dark!cult!Eddie x reader
summary: Eddie Munson has never been anything but sweet and caring to you. He had always made sure you were alright and safe and always helped you with anything you asked for. So now, that he needed you, how could you possibly refuse?
PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING TO READ THIS FIC AND IF YOU DO NOT LIKE THE SOUND OF THEM, DO NOT READ IT. if you do and still have any complaints about the content that has been tagged, that's on you. <3
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word count: 14k
warnings the occult and cult stuff. blood. ritual sacrifices. inflicting non-lasting injury on self/others. subliminal indoctrination. Manipulation and taking advantage of the naive and innocent reader. Eddie is protective, possessive and controlling. has issues. mention of character death [the Creels]. mention of drinking, smoking and drugs.
Explicit Content! 18+ only. Minors DNI! fem reader. PIV sex. unprotected sex (big no-no). heavy s/d dynamic. thigh riding. extended orgasm denial. overstimulation. innocence and corruption kink + virginity. knife kink (kinda). spitting. oral [f receiving]. debatable dacryphilia. blindfold. Eddie's handcuffs. praise. "whore" x1.
If I missed out on any warnings, I severely apologise. Please let me know and I will add them
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"Just as every cop is a criminal
And all the sinners saints
As heads is tails
Just call me Lucifer
'Cause I'm in need of some restraint"
-the Rolling Stones, Sympathy for the Devil
The thing one must understand about Eddie Munson is that he never meant for anything bad to happen. On the contrary, he had nothing but good intentions for you, for anyone. He was a kind, deeply caring person who wanted nothing but the best for others. It was not his fault that people didn't understand him. 
So what? He didn't dress like all the other conservative assholes in town. He was different and dared to speak up for himself; since when is that a crime? He had his beliefs to fight for, just like anyone else; why would that make him the bad guy? People have started wars over way less, and yet, Eddie had been the one cast out from society, branded as a monster. He, who had never done anything wrong in his life. 
You knew like no other how wrong these misconceptions about him were, having experienced his kindness first-hand. It was only a year ago, but it could have been a lifetime. It was almost a coincidence how he found you at that party over spring break. There were so many people, and the music was so loud, that it was easy to get disorientated. The air was thick with smoke and the smell of liquor, making you sick. He had helped you then. It was Eddie who took your hand and led you outside into the fresh and cold night air. 
'You alright?' He looked deep into your eyes with a soft smile, to which you could only smile sheepishly. Maybe that is how he had thought of his cute nickname for you? 'What's a cute little lamb like you doing out here, all alone, anyway?' 
'I'm here with my friends. Just… seemed to have misplaced them somewhere.' You had laughed, not wanting to show how scary that had actually been. The music from inside the house was still blasting, beating against your chest. Eddie nodded in understanding. 
'You've got to be careful, sweetheart, don't want to lose yourself to this chaos.' He brushed some hair out of your face; your skin was burning up from how warm it had been in the house. You only noticed it when compared to the cold touch of his hand. His eyes were still on you, focused, the deep dark of his irises pulling you in. 'Haven't been drinking, have we?' He smiled innocently, clearly teasing, intensifying the burning heat in your cheeks. 
'No.' You could say it earnestly, but the reasons behind your honesty felt a bit embarrassing. You almost didn't want to admit that you had never had a drink before and were still apprehensive about alcohol. He would surely think it's silly, to be 18 and never even have had a beer or a shot. There were so many things you still hadn't done, in fact, that he would probably see as normal.
But his smile grew bigger, and he almost sounded proud when he continued with the conversation: 'Good. Good. You don't want that stuff in you.' 
'I don't?' You blinked as he shook his head. Anyone else would have told you to suck it up, but not him.
'No, all it will do is ruin that pretty mind of yours. And we don't want that, do we?' His voice made your heart flutter in excitement, which proved everyone else's suspicions wrong. Because no evil could make you feel that good, could it? 
And it never really stopped. Neither the feeling you felt when you were around him nor how he treated you. Eddie had a very protective and caring nature. He needed to be sure you were safe and alright. At school, he would ensure you ate your lunch, had a good night's sleep the night before, and weren't too cold or too warm. He invited you to hang out a lot– an offer you could hardly refuse. He walked you home and would help you with your homework or take you back to his trailer, where he would play you songs on his guitar. The music he listened to sure was different from what you were used to. Heavy, gritty and dark, but all of that talk that it was Satan's music was ridiculous. Anyone who would listen to a few bars of it could know that. And the artistry of these musicians was also undeniable. 
Eddie had never expected you to enjoy his kind of music as much as you did, but it brought the biggest smile to his face, which, in turn, made you that much happier. You couldn't get enough of his happiness and could do anything for it. It would be the fair thing to do, considering everything Eddie's done for you... 
When your parents found out you had started hanging out with a boy like Eddie Munson, they were, quite honestly, scared. They did not want his likes to influence you, making you stray down to a dark and dangerous lifestyle. 
But it couldn't be further away from the truth. 
Eddie ensured you stayed away from things such as alcohol or drugs, even cigarettes. He didn't even want you talking about it, didn't want you anywhere near the stuff. And even though he used all of it, he made sure to never do it around you. He would hide away the weed and the liquor bottles in his trailer, and he'd control his need to smoke until you had left. 
'It's too late for me, I'm beyond saving, but that doesn't mean you have to go down that path too.' He would say, stroking your hair, if you ever asked why he was so adamant about keeping you away from these vices. 'Can't have my little lamb be ruined like that.' And he would kiss your forehead, ring-clad hand upon your cheek. His rips were usually chapped, and fingers roughly calloused, but you didn't mind. His touch still felt divine. 
Eddie protected you from more than just these substances. He knew you were not the most experienced in living life, which was something he appreciated and praised, but the shock on his face when you had told him you had never even had your first kiss… the idea of that made his head spin. It excited him more than he had ever thought imaginable, but it also scared him. Since he had found that out about you, you had noticed how much more protective he had gotten over you around certain people. It was cute, how possessive he got when other guys looked at you. 
'Believe me, baby, they're no good for you.' He would hold you close, turning your back to whoever had been trying to catch your eye. 'Guys like that… they only have one thing on their mind.' 
'What's that?' you asked, but he never gave you a direct answer. It was nothing his little lamb should be worried about. You were his pure, innocent girl, and he couldn't have the evils of others corrupt you. He wanted what's best for you. 
He really did make you feel safe and comfortable, in a way no one had ever done before. You felt like you could tell him anything, no matter how personal or embarrassing. Things you wouldn't dare tell any other guy. 
'Uhm, Eddie,' you mumbled one time. You were in your bedroom, sitting on the ground with your backs against your bed. Eddie had you sitting between his legs. His hands around your middle, rubbing small circles on the bare piece of skin between where your shirt and trousers met. The sensation it left on you spread across your whole body in sparks, particularly between your legs, making it very hard to focus on the book you had been trying to read.
'Something wrong?' He asked, head propped up on your shoulder as he spoke, so his words came out with his warm breath against your neck, not helping your situation. 
'I uh–' you were flustered; the only thing you could think about was how his fingers were creeping over your stomach, inching your waistband. 'Nevermind.' 
'No, no, sweetheart. Now you got to tell me.' 
'It's a bit warm in here, don't you think?' You breathed out slowly. 
'Not really.' He shrugged. 'But you can open a window if you want.' 
You took the opportunity to get away from his touch. Not that you minded it or that it wasn't pleasant. On the contrary, you had to escape it because of how good it felt. You had never felt like this before. Hot and bothered, all over. It wasn't something you were used to or even knew how to handle. 
'Are you sure, you're alright?' Eddie asked once you came back to sit in his lap. You hummed out a response, but he could tell it wasn't all true. 'C'mon, it's me. You can tell me, can't you?' Of course, you could. You could tell Eddie anything, that much you knew. 
'I just– feel a bit hot. That's all.' It still all felt a bit silly. A bit difficult to put into words.
'Hot?' He asked for a clarification, to which you only nodded your head. You looked down at your lap, embarrassed even though you knew there was nothing to be ashamed about. Eddie wrapped his arms around you, but his hands were low, pressing at the hem of your trousers, and it wasn't making matters any better. 
'What are you doing?' You gasped when you felt him slip past the material of your shorts, fingers sliding over your panties slowly. You arched your back in anticipation; it was an automatic, subconscious reaction. Still, it felt wrong, though. He had always told you how that part of you was sacred, off limits for others. 
Others. Yes. 
Not him. 
'I just need to check something.' His voice was a mere hush as his fingertips brushed over your core, just the thin layer of cotton keeping up the barrier between you. But he wouldn't actually touch you there. Not yet. He couldn't ruin you like that. It would be inconsiderate and selfish, and that's not who Eddie was. He just wanted what's best for you.
'You are burning up, baby,' he clicked his tongue when his fingers added some pressure to the touch. Your back stiffened, and you held your breath, unsure what to do. 'I wish I could help, but I can't right now.' Of course, you would never actually protest anything he did, knowing he had his valid reasons, but you wished he hadn't pulled away. 
'Why not?' your voice was shaky. 
'It's not the right time,' he pressed you back against his chest, taking in your sweet scent. Your shampoo, your perfume, even the ink of the pen you had been writing with for the past few hours, and your arousal– all mixed into something that could only be described as you. 
'Right time?' you weren't sure what he meant by that, but Eddie talked a lot about funny things that you didn't understand. Mostly, it was about the game he played at school with his friends, Dungeons and Dragons. He had tried to explain it to you several times, and most of it was easy enough to grasp, but he could talk on about it for ages, and it was almost as if he was pulling you into a trance of attention. Words would lose their meaning as you were too focused on Eddie himself. The sound of his voice and his movements– he always used his hands to emphasise what he said. And maybe it was for the better you didn't understand everything that was happening in the club. 
Not that it mattered, anyway. It was nothing his little lamb should be worried about.
'Yeah, got to wait a bit, sweetheart. Patience is a virtue, isn't that what they always say? And believe me, if you wait a bit longer, it will be so worth it.' 
'How long?' you already didn't want to wait. His featherlight touch had been enough to ignite a fire in you. But, unfortunately, it wasn't enough to subside whatever feeling was gnawing at you there. If anything, the memory of his touch only made it worse. You needed more. 
'Not too long. I'll let you know when it's time, ok?' He started rubbing his hand over your arm. 'But you got to promise me one thing.' 
'Of course.' Anything for Eddie. He knew what was best. 
'Do not touch yourself there, ok? It might be difficult because you might not feel much better without it, but it will feel so wonderful in the end. I promise.' He made plenty of these kinds of promises and had held up to them every single time. That was another reason you trusted him; everyone else was simply wrong in their perceptions. An evil person would not keep to their promises as Eddie did. 
Eddie cared
Deeply
About you. 
So you listened to what he asked of you, nearly blindly. 
The feeling inside of you grew much to your frustration, but you kept your promise to Eddie. The days went on rather slowly, not helping your problem, and neither did Eddie. His touches seemed to linger more than they used to. He was always at your side, keeping you close to him; that didn't change that much. But he would let his hands wander over your body. 
Perhaps he was nervous about something, and the way he coped was to draw invisible shapes all over your body when he had his arms wrapped around you. He'd mumble to himself, little nonsense things you couldn't make out. He also got a bit forgetful; at lunchtime, he would forget to save you a seat, leading you to have to sit in his lap. Not that you minded. But what was a bit frustrating was how antsy he had gotten, letting his leg bouncing up and down. (What was he so nervous about?) Other times you wouldn't have minded, but how his jeans grazed over your sensitive and already frustrated core made you want to cry out. 
'Eddie, could you maybe stop that? Please?' You looked up at him, trying to get rid of the lump in your throat. 
'Sorry, baby,' He stopped, but the friction was just replaced by the hand he had put on your thigh. So many people were around you, all chatting and enjoying their free time out of class, yet there was only him for you. His big brown eyes sucked you into a place where it was just the two of you. So you weren't even embarrassed when he asked you: 'have are you feeling? Been a good little lamb for me?' 
'Yes.' As if on cue, you couldn't help but rub your legs together, needing some kind of stimulus to keep you away from that burning feeling between your legs. It had been going on for days, only getting stronger, and you could do nothing about it. 
Your action didn't escape Eddie's vision, and he was quick to pull your legs apart. However, his hand remained sturdily between them. 
'Haven't been touching yourself?' He wasn't whispering or trying not to be heard, but no one was paying attention really anyway. But even if they had, you didn't care. 
'No. Of course not.' He would ask you the same question each day, and each day you could happily respond. Even if every time it got harder and harder to do. 'But… Eddie–' 
'Hmm?' he hummed, pushing some hair out of your face with the hand that had not settled over the warm gap between your thighs.
'I feel like it's just getting worse,' your voice was almost lost in the ocean of others, but he heard you, and he smiled softly as you continued. 'I don't know how much longer–' but that is where he cut you off. 
'I know, baby. I know. But you're not ready yet, and we don't want all of this to go to waste, do we?' He looked you in the eyes until you shook your head in agreement; what you agreed to, however, was a bit vague. 'But it's not much longer anymore, and then just think of how good it will feel. Your reward will be grand.' 
'Reward?' He had never even said anything about a reward. 
'Oh, of course. My little lamb deserves a prize for behaving this well.' He squeezed you into a tight hug, pulling you in. You could feel his thumb press against your sensitive bud again for just a second, but you pushed aside the urge for more. He propped you up, helping you sit up better in his lap, but this again only made you feel his hand on you more prominently. His lips were nearly against your jaw when he spoke up again. 'How about you come over to my place later, and I'll try to help you with your problem, hmm? A… little taste of what's to come?' 
'Are you sure?' You didn't want him to do anything that could end up hurting either of you. If he said, you weren't ready… 
'Yeah, I can't have you walking around like this, all flustered. It's making all the other guys stare.' 
'What?' This made you stiffen up a bit. Why were they all staring at you? Could they tell, see even, how enkindled you were? You hadn't thought so. 
'Shh, it's alright. I'll take care of them. Don't you worry.' He would make sure you were safe, that much you knew. 'Meet me at the car later. I'll drive us home.' The bell for the next class would ring soon, and you wouldn't see Eddie until after school ended. Those were always the hardest times of the day, besides maybe when you were lying in bed alone, wishing he was with you to help you fall asleep and make that ache between your legs finally disappear. 
The classes were almost impossible for you to get through, as all you could think of was Eddie. Minutes were passing by so slowly, that you wanted to scream. Was no one else upset about how time just did not seem to move forward? That could not be possible. But, then again, you were the only one irking to get out of there to meet Eddie in the parking lot. 
You practically jump into his arms. The wind blew in your face, bringing his dark locks along and tickling your neck. He smelled like incense and his musky cologne. Someone like him should have something more bitter about him, you had thought at be beginning of your friendship, but Eddie was sweet. Not just in his actions, but in everything else around him. Because even with that smokey scent, mixed with his cologne, there was still a sweetness around him that you could not identify. It pulled you in, the familiarity of it, and yet you could never quite place it in your mind as to what it was. 
Eddie's hand never left your body as he drove you to the trailer park. You loved when he drove his car, but it was also frustrating that his hand was all he could give you. His eyes were, of course, entirely concentrated on the road ahead, and you missed them. 
Fortunately, the drive wasn't too long, and before you knew it, he led you out to his trailer, into the back of it, where his room was. It was messy, like most days, and there were things strewn about all over the place, which Eddie tried to sort out as he went along. He picked something up that looked like a long glass vase from next to his bed and put it in his closet. 
'What was that?' you asked curiously as he sat down on the bed. You were still standing by the door. 
'That? Oh, nothing, baby. Just c'mere.' He held out his hand for you to take once you had made your way over to him. You were ready to sit down, but Eddie pressed the palm of his other hand over your stomach, keeping you up. 'Hmm, no. Wait up.' He took both your hands in his, kissing your knuckles. 'Before we start, I need you to listen, really carefully, to me. I got to know you understand.' 
Eddie rarely spoke in such a serious manner, so it made you a bit nervous. He held your hands tightly, and you stood between his spread legs. He looked up at you, almost with pleading eyes, as if he didn't know that you were already listening to him intently, taking in each word he gave you desperately, never wanting him to stop giving you his attention or time.  
'I'm listening, Eddie, always,' you smiled, and he hugged out a little laugh. 
'This is just really important to me,' he chuckled lightly again, 'I want to make you feel good, sweetheart, but I can't make that feeling that is bothering you go away just yet. It shouldn't go away just yet, because you're not ready, we're not ready… but we can do something to help with it; for now, does that sound alright?' 
'Yes.' Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as he kissed your knuckles again. 
'Good, come sit here,' he tapped onto his right thigh, and you sat down, but apparently not in the way he had meant for you to do, as he laughed. 'No, baby. Like this. Here.' He shuffled a bit back onto the bed and made you sit with your legs on either side of his, locking him in between you. He put his hand on your hip, pushing you into him. The material of your jeans pressed into you, releasing some of the tension that had been building up in you over the past few days. Then, with his guidance, you started moving your hips over his leg. 
'Feels good, doesn't it?' Eddie asked, and you nodded your head quickly. 'Yeah, and it will only feel better the longer you keep doing it. Go a bit faster– that's it.' 
'It– oh my- aah,' you gasped out at this foreign sensation that rushed through your body. 'Thank you,' the words came out with a heavy breath of air as you found your rhythm.
'You're very welcome, sweetheart. You've been doing so well for me, haven't you? Deserve a little treat.' Your faces were nearly at the same level with you on his lap, and his mouth ghosted over yours. You could feel it there, not even an inch apart, but he couldn't– no matter how much he wanted to kiss your perfect lips, they would remain untouched for now. But it wouldn't be long anymore. Soon, he would make all this wait worthwhile. 
'Keep going as long as you want, baby,' the sight of you pleasuring yourself on his thigh made him short circuit, but he had to keep his mind clear. 
'It feels–' you didn't know how to describe the feeling that started to overcome you. You were tensing up again. Suddenly the release you felt from this friction didn't feel as satisfying anymore. It was urging you on to keep going, to tense that tight feeling in you until it snapped, but it was getting worse. Finally, you had to squeeze your eyes shut. 'Eddie!' 
'Woah, Woah, Woah.' He halted your hips tightly. 'Stop.' 
'What-' you were confused, not sure what had happened. The tight feeling in your gut loosened, but the satisfaction you had felt also reclined. 
'You were close, weren't you?' He asked, and you weren't entirely sure what he meant by "close", but somehow, on a deeper level, you knew that that is what you had felt, and so nodded a bit meekly. Eddie nodded along in understanding. 'See, you're not ready for that yet, baby. So if you feel it again, you got to tell me and stop, got it? If you feel that tightness coming, do not keep going. It can be too much for you right now, I don't want you to ger hurt.'
'I get it,' a lump formed in your throat again. 
'Alright. Do you want to do it again?' He squeezed your hips, and you bit your lip. You did want to keep going, as it did feel amazing when you could release some of that tension your body had built up. Eddie just wanted to help you; it wasn't his fault that he couldn't get rid of this hollow feeling inside you. He did everything he could to make you feel as good as possible. He let you writhe over his leg for an eternity, replaying the cycle of your pleasure, letting you inch toward that unattainable high. Every time you felt the knot in your stomach, you would gasp out his name, and he would hold you still. It was torture you brought upon yourself to keep going over and over again, but it felt so good. It didn't matter that you could never actually get it to completion. That initial feeling of bliss compensated for the pain of unfulfillment. 
'You're so good for me. My sweet little lamb, always listens so well.' Even if there was nothing to inherently pleasure Eddie, he still felt fantastic. Seeing you like this made him feel like never before, and to see you obey his requests as you did… it was pure euphoria. 
Tears were stinging your eyes, but he was quick to brush them away, right at the corners of your eyes. You could not possibly go on much longer. Your grip on his shoulder weakened, and your hips started jutting forward haphazardly, exhausted.
'Eddie,' you gasped out a final time; you didn't even have energy left in you to reach that edge anymore. Your body shut down as you fell forward into Eddie. He fell back, holding on to you as his back hit the mattress. 
'Did so good, baby. So good.' He held you tightly as you caught your breath. You were shaking, so he grabbed the covers and pulled them over you. 
'I– thank you.' You nuzzled deeper into his hold. No words were exchanged for a while. His arms stayed wrapped around you, caressing your back gently as the seconds on the clock ticked by. 
'How are you feeling?' He eventually asked, whispering, in case you had fallen asleep on top of him. But you answered, voice weak and tired: 
'I'm alright.' Everything was still spinning a bit; you couldn't quite tell up from down. The only thing grounding you was Eddie. He started to draw more random shapes over your back, mumbling nothings to himself, and you were ready to doze off. Peace was coming over you. Then his voice turned up a bit louder as he spoke directly to you.
'I'm so proud of you.' It was still a whisper, but his voice vibrated through his throat. 
'Thank you, Eddie.' 
'Mmm, did so good, you know what?' He kissed your forehead. 'How about we go to the mall tomorrow. Get you something nice?' 
Your head shot up in the excitement, and you looked into his eyes. 'Is– that my reward?' 
'No, I just want to spoil you,' he chuckled, petting your hair flat, 'Your reward will be so much better. Just you wait.' He rolled over to his side, taking you along so you'd fall onto the mattress beside him. 'Want me to take you home?' He asked, and you had nodded yes, and maybe had even said it, but your eyelids were so heavy, and you were so tired, that soon sleep came over you, and you had never felt quite as peaceful as you had in his arms. 
Eddie not once thought of letting you go. He did what he had to do to keep you close and safe. 
His pure and innocent little lamb. 
All his. 
✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮
The next day, he did indeed take you shopping. It was a lovely day full of sunshine, and he held your hand as you walked past stores. Even if you hadn't realised it, he already had something in mind he wanted to get you, and it just so happened to be at one store you frequented. 
He watched you go through the racks of clothing and smiled anytime he caught your eye. He had to pull you back. Otherwise, you would have missed the one thing he had wanted you to see. 
'How about this one?' He picked a dress up from the hanger. It was a long and flowy white summer dress. You furrowed your brows, not having expected that to be his choice of outfit for you. It was neither his nor your style, yet he handed it to you with plenty of enthusiasm. 
'Are you sure?' You asked, watching him nod his head adamantly. 
'You'll look gorgeous, I can already tell.' he pressed the dress against you, looking at how it would look on you. 'Wanna go and try it on?' 
'Yeah, of course,' you smiled, and the next thing you knew, Eddie was opening up the door to a dressing room for you. He hung the dress on a hook next to the mirror and closed the door behind him. He said he would be right there if you needed anything, and you knew it was true. He would be sitting right there in one of the fuzzy chairs, waiting for you to come out and spin around for him. 
But unfortunately, the zipper in the back of the dress was not as easy to pull up as you thought, so you called out his name. Not a second later, Eddie popped his head inside the little room, eyes closed for your decency. 
'It's alright, Eds,' you giggled, 'you can look. I just can't get the zipper up.' 
'Ah, well, let me,' he came up to you, and his hands were on the small of your back, holding the two sides of the dress together so he could pull the zipper up. It was cold against your skin, and Eddie moved extremely slowly, not wanting to accidentally snag the fabric or get your hair caught in it. He pulled it all the way up and smoothed out the dress at your sides, not that you thought it had been that wrinkled. You had been facing the mirror, so he put his head on your shoulder to look along with you. 
'Absolutely beautiful.' He whispered, imitating the confined intimacy of the dressing room. Your cheeks heated up at the compliment, but also because you did actually feel beautiful wearing the dress. It fitted perfectly, wrapping around your body at every angle. It was light, comfortable, soft… just the white colour felt slightly off for you. Eddie noticed this apprehension in your face. 'What's wrong, sweetheart?'
'I'm just not so sure about white. It doesn't really feel like me, does it?' 
'Thought you might want to try something new. And just look how good it looks on you.' Then, with a finger under your chin, he made you look in the mirror again, 'An angel.' 
'Oh, Eddie,' you swung around to hug him. 'Thank you.' you mumbled the words against his chest. 
'Anything for you, baby.' His hand moved up and down over your back. 
After the dress shopping, the two of you walked around, with no real goal or destination in mind. The presence of each other was more than enough. But as the day went on, you couldn't help but feel down. Eddie had done so much for you over time, especially in the recent days; you wanted to repay him somehow. Show him that you cared for him just as much as he cared about you. Did he even know that you would do anything for him? You hoped so. 
You kept on thanking him as the day went on, which only made him laugh. The message had been quite clear after the first three times, and now it was becoming almost excessive. But he could never complain either, loving how much you appreciated him, but enough was enough. Surely. 
'I just wish I could do something in return.' 
'You really don't need to.' He cupped your face in the palm of his hand. 
'But I want to.' You persisted. 'There must be something I could do for you.' 
'Not that I can think of, but if anything comes up, I will let you know.' And that was that. You didn't want to press on the matter; why nag on a little thing like that, ruin what would be a lovely day? So, you went and had coffee at a café on Main Street, where Eddie again demanded to pay the bill, and then he drove you back home. Only when the car stopped in front of your driveway did you realise that this had been the longest time you had ever spent with Eddie: Almost an entire day. And it had also been one of the best days ever. Not because of how he had spoiled you– you couldn't care less about that stuff– but because you had not once stopped smiling. With him, you felt like you were on cloud nine, seventh heaven, paradise, and you never wanted it to stop. 
'What are you doing tomorrow?' you asked hopefully. It would be a Sunday then, and like most Sundays, you would have nothing to do. Eddie tapped the steering wheel.
'I got some things to take care of. Nothing too exciting.' Perhaps he saw your deflated expression. 'We'll hang out another time, yeah? I'll see you at school.' If you had been two different people, you would have leaned in and kissed goodbye, but instead, Eddie cupped your face again and tapped your cheek lightly with his hand. You did lean into his touch, not wanting it to leave you, but it always did at some point. 
'I'll miss you.' You pouted, which he mimicked. 
'And I'll miss you too, but this thing– it's really important. I can't miss it, and it will most likely take me the whole day–' 
'Why don't I help you?' You interrupted as the idea jumped to your mind. 'Then we can still spend time together and maybe you might even finish sooner.' 
'Oh, you don't want to–' 
'But I do,' you persisted. This was your chance. You could finally prove to Eddie how much he meant to you. 
'Are you sure?' Eddie raised his brow inquisitively. You nodded your head once but very clearly, indicating your standpoint. He couldn't get rid of you even if he tried. He knew it too, as seen through the deep sigh he took, but he was smiling. Your persistence was adorable. 
'Ok, fine. Do you know where the Creel House is?' 
'The creepy old boarded-up building?' Yeah, you knew the Creel House. Everyone in town did. Everyone had heard the story of what had happened there all those years ago, and it still made you feel uncomfortable to think about it. 
'I'll see you there at 5, ok? Wear the pretty dress we got today, too. I can't get enough of you in it.' And this time, he did lean in to kiss your cheek. Or, almost your cheek. It had been where he had intended for his lips to touch you, but it had only missed your own lips by less than an inch. The kiss was also just like all the other formalities. It probably lasted less than a second but left you wanting more. That warm feeling in your body resurfaced, much to your dismay. After yesterday, you had hoped it would stay hidden a bit longer, but apparently, one tiny featherlight kiss on the apple of your cheek was enough for it to come back up. 
'Who knows,' Eddie took your hand, 'maybe tomorrow will be the day, too.' 
'You mean–' you looked up at him with wide eyes. 
'We'll see. Now go, sweetheart.' He left you thinking about it for the entire night. Were you finally ready? Would this unbearable ache in your pit finally disappear? You hoped so. You were jittery with excitement about the next day. You could barely sleep, even though you knew Eddie wouldn't appreciate that (he always needed you to be well rested). And then the morning came, and you couldn't get a bite of your breakfast down your throat as you jumped in your seat from anticipation. You knew it was silly, but after all this time, you finally got a chance to show Eddie everything. And you had waited for weeks to touch yourself, and it was as if your body could tell that the waiting time was almost over. 
It was almost over; you told yourself as you made your way to the house. You were too early; you knew that, but better too early than too late. Maybe Eddie would already be there, and then… that is when you realised you actually had no idea what you were coming into the house for. What did he want you to do there? 
A harsh wind blew, pulling at the hem of your dress, which you had to hold not to let the street see your backside. The steps to the porch creaked under your footsteps, and the door you knew was once covered in wooden boards was now broken open. The beautiful stained-glass window was broken into shards, with a large hole in the middle– exactly where the rose used to bloom daily. 
'Hello?' You called out as you stepped inside. The temperature immediately seemed to drop, and the air had a moist hint, thick with dust flying around you. Footsteps were coming from upstairs. 
'Baby?' It was Eddie, and the sound of his voice immediately made all your worries go away.
'Yes! It's me!' You wanted to tread the stairs, a large and eccentric staircase, but Eddie showed up at the top of it. His hair was fastened up with his black bandana. You had imagined he would appreciate your early arrival, but a grimace covered his face instead. 
'You're early. I told you 5.' The old clock in the back of the hallway still clicked away and pointed to ten minutes to five, so you weren't that early. 
'I'm sorry. I walked faster than I expected.' 
'It's alright, just– just wait here. I'm almost ready.' Oh, was he setting something up for you? A surprise? Your reward? It brought back all these fluttery feelings in your stomach. 
You could hear Eddie shuffling around the upper floor, right above you. He was walking up and down the room, carrying things around. You wanted to go up and help him, but since he had told you to wait– you waited. Five minutes went by, ten, fifteen, and you were getting restless at the bottom of these tall stairs. With each creak in the floorboards, you hoped Eddie would appear again. 
That only happened a bit later, when you glanced up and saw him walk out of a dark room. He grinned down at you, and your body screamed to run up those stairs, but again, you waited for him to let you. 
'C'mere, I want to show you something.' And that is how you eagerly made your way upstairs finally. Eddie waited at the top step and watched how your dress flowed with your movements. Truly angelic, if such things existed. Holding you by the hand, he led you into the room he had just come out of. 
All the large windows were plastered shut, covered with wooden planks or plastic tarps, and while that should have made the room pitch black, you could still see everything inside clearly. That is because Eddie had set up candles all over the surfaces near the large bed that stood in the middle of the room. The orange flames gave the room a warm glow, and it must have been the most romantic thing you had ever seen. 
'Is this for me?' you glanced over at him, still in awe and shock. He laughed at this lightheartedly, squeezing your hand. It must have taken him hours to prepare all of this, but it was so worth it, you could tell him. The atmosphere brought to the room was fantastical, otherworldly. 
Eddie led you to the centre of the room, where the candles on the ground were positioned in a circular shape, with just enough space for you to stand. 
'You look beautiful, y/n,' Eddie spoke in a hushed whisper. 'Divine. My little lamb.' He pushed the hair out of your face again. Why did it always get in the way? Such a gorgeous face should not be covered up with anything, which is why he was glad you hadn't put on make-up today. You were standing in front of him in your purest form. The white dress accentuated it. 'You know why you're here, don't you?' 
'Because you asked me to?' you spoke, voice shaking for some reason. The fire of the candles flickered on. In the dim light, you could make out some kind of graffiti painted on the walls, strange symbols you did not recognise. 
'Yes, but I meant, why I asked you to come here.' The entire house had been left in its original state, never emptied out after the original owners had… left it. This meant that the old bedroom still had all its furnishings around. The bed was behind you, but you could also see a dresser and an armchair in the corner. Eddie walked up to the dresser and picked something up. Long, thin, the silver reflecting the golden flame light– 
'Eddie?' You wanted to step back at the sight of the sharp knife but remembered the candles positioned all around you. 'What- what are you doing?' 
'It's ok, baby. I'm not going to hurt you,' Eddie smiled kindly. He toyed with the sharp tip of the blade, twirling it against his hand. 'I would never hurt you. You know that, right?' You did know this, so you didn't bother to back away when he came closer. Eyes remained locked, ignoring the fire, the symbols, and the blade. There was just you and him. 'You know that, right?' Eddie repeated his question, to which you nodded. But he needed you to say it and hear your voice.
'Yes.' He only wanted what's best for you, to protect you. But, of course, he would never do you any harm. 
'Good. Really, sweetheart, you don't know how happy I am I found you– you're so– you're just so perfect.' His perfect little lamb. All his. You couldn't tell if the heat burning inside you came from the candles or his words. 'You have always listened so well, always been so good. And you'll keep being good, won't you?' 
'Mhm.' The power of longer words escaped you. Eddie cupped your cheek in his hand, patting it gently.
'Because I really need you to listen and do as I say, baby. This is really important to me.' 
'But-' you pushed the words out, 'what are you doing?' You still couldn't quite make sense of the things around you. But Eddie smiled at your question, as if he had been expecting it, had wanted you to ask. Your hair was poking from behind your ears again, sticking at your cheek, which he brushed off. He could cut it right off with the knife in his hand– he always thought you would look prettier in shorter hair, it would frame your face so nicely–  but it would probably not be appreciated. Maybe one day, if he asked nicely if you would still have him after today.
Of course, you would. 
'We're going to heal the world, sweetheart.' He smiled his big gorgeous smile, but you were too caught up in his words. 'Restore the order of life, make everything wrong right again– you want to help me with that, don't you?' 
'Well, yes, but–' the fire was heating up the room quickly, and you could feel it on your skin. The knife in Eddie's hand kept reflecting the light, making you look at it, but each time you would, Eddie would press his fingers into your cheek so you would find his eyes again. 
'You don't have to be scared; I'm not going to hurt you. I need you to trust me, y/n.' The way your name flowed out of his lips, so smooth and sweet, you felt terrible just for having a thought of doubt ever sour mind. But even if you told yourself not to be scared, he did see that fear in your eyes. It was frustrating to see, because how many times could he comfort you? What would it take for you to understand him? Finally, he moved, turned slightly to the side, and the cold blade hit your arm. It did not cut or hurt, but it made you flinch. 
'Eddie–' your voice was so weak, nothing like he was used to. 
'Can I tell you a story?' He watched you nod your head. ''Humanity is a pest, y/n. We are poisoning our world with this structure and order, depending on these vices as if we were not the ones who had created them in the first place– there is nothing structural about us! We live our days just waiting for them to be over, numbing ourselves and telling lies to make it feel like it means something while it is entirely useless. It is hard to find a pure soul out there, yet… here you are. 
'Me?' you couldn't possibly imagine why you would have anything to do with this. 'I don't understand–'  
'You are at the centre of it all. My sweet sweet little lamb, fresher than fallen snow on a meadow. You are the prime example of what we all could be, a special gift. He sent you to me.' He had been gaining more and more energy and enthusiasm through his speech
'He?' You were starting to feel silly, being able to only respond with more questions and poorly phrased ones at that.
'Vecna,' he breathed out the word in a hush. You had heard him say the name before, but you had never questioned it, figuring it had just been one of the endless characters in his game. Eddie's eyes were bigger than you had ever seen them as he kept on talking passionately. 'He spoke to me, showed me everything. He was the one that made me realise just what a cruel and messed up world this is– and– and I'm not the only one. The people that lived here that died here… You know why they died, don't you? It had all been a part of this plan, you see. A… an offering. They gave their lives subject to a higher power. It was all for a greater cause.
'But they had not meant to die, it all just went so horribly wrong. They didn't know what they were doing, the Creels. But I do! Vecna told me and showed me everything I had to do in order to make this work. I've spent months making sure everything will go right, and you are the key. I need you to do this, y/n. Please.' In the time that you had met Eddie, you had seen a lot of sides to him. You had seen him be happy, sad, angry, tired, hyper, everything between and around it, but this was new. As he spoke to you, he almost seemed desperate. He was shaking with his words, purely out of the need to get his words out, for you to hopefully understand what he was trying to do.
The presence of the cold blade didn't get lost to you anymore, as you could feel it with every breath you took, pressing against your stomach with its flat side. You looked deeply into Eddie's eyes, trying to figure out what his intentions were with it, with you. Surely, he would not actually hurt you? That wasn't him. You could not imagine Eddie, your Eddie, doing such things as your scared mind was conjuring up at the moment. 
'You wanted to help me, didn't you? This would be the most wonderful thing you could ever do for me, y/n. It would be glorious. Just think about it, when it works, the life we will have together. Vecna will show you, help you as well. You just have to let him, let me.' 
Let me guide you, my little lamb. 
Let me help you, my sweetheart. 
Let me use you. 
He needed you. Truly needed you, and only you. You stood there, in your white dress, surrounded by the golden flames of the melting candles, Eddie just far enough not to press his body into yours. As he waited for an answer, maybe bored or nervous, he started tracing the knife over you. The tip of it pinched at your skin, teasing, over your arm up to your collarbone, down your sternum. It had hagged on the strap of the dress, and you had been sure he would have snapped it right off. It would have probably been enough for the whole dress to fall apart. It would pool at your feet, leaving you in nothing but your underwear in front of him. The thought of it should be flooding you with fear, but to your surprise– it excited you. All of it did, in fact. 
'What- what do you need me to do?' You pushed down the lump forming in your throat, but you didn't need much force for it as it dissolved at the sight of Eddie's relieved grin. He kissed the top of your head, the blade in the same hand he brushed your hair with, so you felt the steel at your ear. It made you shiver. You could hear him whisper some more of those little words he always mumbled, still unable to make any sense out of them. Then, he made you leave the circle of candles and walked you to the side of the room, where the symbols were painted onto the wall. It is then that you noticed that the black paint was still wet in spots, freshly applied, but long enough to have already dried up for the most part.
'Give me your hand,' he asked of you, and you eagerly obliged, placing your hand over his palm. But then he pulled that knife up again, and you flinched, which made him visibly upset with a frown. 
'I'm sorry,' you apologised before he had even said anything. 
'I understand, baby, all of this is new, but you have nothing to fear. I'm here, and I've always made sure you're safe, didn't I? Right, so you know you can trust me. Look–' he put up his own hand, flat in front of you, and dragged the sharp knife over the skin, breaking it from the centre of his palm, right to the edge. The blood immediately started to spill out, colouring his pale skin crimson. But what you focused on was how he had not winced, not twitched, barely moved a muscle as the blade penetrated his outer layer. His eyes had been focused on the cut, just to glance up at you momentarily, to ensure you were looking at him. He wiped the knife on his shirt, letting the cut drip out onto the wooden panels of the floor. 'See? It doesn't even hurt.' Then he wiped his hand on his t-shirt, smearing the blood all over it. With the small and shallow cut, it would dry up in a few minutes. There was really nothing to be scared of. Eddie never wanted to hurt you. He just wants what's best for you– what's best for everyone. Just like he had said: restore the world order, make what's wrong right again. 
So, you held your hand out, steady. But as much as you trusted him, you couldn't get yourself to look as he pressed the blade into you. It stung as it moved over your palm. 
'Open your eyes,' Eddie told you. You were greeted with dark red stains on your hand when you did. It was already pooling in the small cup of your manus, dripping between your fingers. It stung as if he had kept on cutting, even though you had heard him put the knife away. It was lying untouched on the set of vintage drawers now. 
Eddie's next words were another request, as he guided your fingers to close in over your palm. 'Squeeze it.' And he pushed your fingers closed. You yelped at the shooting pain that came from it. The indentation splurged for more blood to come out. You saw flashes of white in front of your eyes as Eddie pressed it harder. 
'You see it, don't you?' He asked you eagerly. You nodded, keeping your tears at bay. You didn't want him to see you cry, not when you didn't even mean to. It was just sort of happening. 
Then, Eddie pulled you a step forward, pressing your bloody hand against the wall. This again pulled a wince out of you. It was so sensitive, and he pressed it so hard. He needed the blood to make its mark. He used you like a paintbrush, adding strokes of red over the black, making new symbols out of the already existing ones, finishing what he had started. 
'Look how great this looks. And it could only be you, to make it all work. Only someone as pure and innocent as you has that kind of power.' He had everything prepared in advance, so when he dropped your hand from the wall, he reached for a towel that he had also placed on that dresser earlier. He pressed it into your hand, applying the right kind of pressure this time to hopefully stop the blooding rather than encourage its continuation. He took care of you, just like any other day, showing you that he was still your Eddie after all. There was nothing to be scared of. 
'Is this it?' You looked up at him, the towel still wrapped around your hand. His sympathies peaked through the corners of his lips. 
'Not just yet, baby. There's one more thing, but this we can do together, and I promise you'll enjoy it much more than this.' 
'What is it?' 
'You already started the cleansing process, but we have to show Him that we mean our loyalty, and for that, a sacrifice is needed– just a small one, don't be scared,' he hushed, taking the towel away. 'And don't be nervous. I know you will do well; I made sure of it. That's why we waited. Had to know you would be able to handle it, but you're ready now.' That funny feeling in the pit of your stomach emerged again, covering your body in a flash of heat. It was that frustrating sensation you just could not get rid of that even Eddie could not help you with… but now you were ready. So what the two of you did in his bedroom last Friday… the cycle would be complete. There would be no more torture and pleading for a release. He could bring you to it, finally. 
'You're ready now.' Eddie didn't show it, as he repeated his last words, but he was conflicted about it all. It broke him to see you lose some of that innocence, but it had to be done, and it was an honour that he would be the one to do it. Better him, who understood the value of your purity, rather than some boy who would use you for his own pleasure. In a way, he was doing this to protect you, too. By letting you join him in his venture, he was ensuring safety for you. He would protect you. Vecna will protect you. 
But for this, he actually had to make you his. 
Again, holding your hand, he led you through the room. Avoiding the candles spread out over the floor, he got you to stand next to the bed. Both your hands were sticky with drying blood. The cut still burned when he squeezed at your hand, but neither of you showed any signs of discomfort. 
He wondered if once this was all over, your eyes would still be full of the innocence he was so enamoured by. Would you still look at him with this naive bewilderment, or would he ruin you completely? If so, that would be his sacrifice. He would give up the pleasure of the sight for the sake of the greater good, naturally. 
This would then perhaps be the last time you looked at him this way, so he would have to cherish it to the fullest extent. He let his fingers draw down your face, caressing the soft apples of your cheeks. Finally, his thumb moved over your chin, barely touching your bottom lip. How long he had needed to feel it, touch all of you, but held back. Now he finally could, though. 
Too immersed in his deep brown eyes, you didn't see what was happening around them. You only heard him pull something out of his pocket– material. It was a handkerchief. But not the black skull he would wear often around the school. This one was white, like your dress. However, it was quickly getting tainted by the pink of the last remaining blood that could still transfer from his hands. How you had not noticed it on him before was a bit silly. 
The material was smooth and pleasant to the touch, warm, as Eddie pulled it over your face. The metallic scent of blood wavered over it; no one could tell whether it was his or yours. Eddie tied it behind your head, making sure your eyes were covered, and just like that, you were enveloped in darkness. 
'By taking away one sense,' he whispered into your ear, 'all the others get heightened. It is an experience like no other, to submit yourself to the elements. An honour. Now– ah.' He hadn't even needed to ask you anything, as when his thumb fell over your bottom lip, your mouth immediately parted, like an impulse, to let him enter. He pressed the finger over your tongue and watched you suck on it desperately. This was it—the first touch. Just like that, one simple act had already been enough to corrupt you. 
'Sit down. On your knees. There we go, so good for me.' If he hadn't known better, if he hadn't made sure you never lied to him about what you have or have not done, he wouldn't have assumed you had experience, that you knew exactly what you were doing. That his little lamb was, in fact, just a whore like everyone else. But no, of course, you weren't. He had prepared you for this moment, let out what was only in your nature already. It was the right thing to submit to his touch like this. 
But eventually, after a few seconds, he had to pull his hand away from you. The action came unexpectedly, and you were ready to follow him, even though you couldn't see where he had moved to. You tried your best trying to figure out what was happening, using those other heightened senses to their fullest potential. You could hear the flickering of the flames around you, and the burning smell came with it, which was still not strong enough to cover up the musky scent of Eddie, how the wooden floor dug at your knees, even through the fabric of your dress. And even though you could not see him, you could feel his presence towering over you. 
It didn't matter how much you tried to focus on your surroundings; nothing would have prepared you for Eddie grabbing you by your chin to pull your face up, hollowing your already open mouth into a perfect little O-shape. Next thing you know, you heard a strange noise and felt something wet touch your mouth, spill into it. The sensation made you squirm, no idea what it was that Eddie had just done. You didn't know what to do. 
'C'mon, baby. You know what to do when you have something in your mouth. Swallow.' He shut your mouth with his grip on it, helping you take the spit– because that's what it is, you realised– down your throat. He hummed in satisfaction through your whimpers. 'It's ok, baby. This is all a part of it. Got to get used to each other, it's all bonding.' He wanted to be closer to you, connected, and that idea warmed your heart. The way his hands then brushed over your hair, you nearly mewled into the touch. 
Trying to position him was difficult, as he seemed to walk circles around you, his lips filled with those mysterious words and mumblings again. If you could see now, you would have stared at the ground or the hands you had placed over your lap. His flavour was still in your mouth, and it felt strange, but not in the wrong way.
He had walked another circle around you before stopping at your back. You felt the tension on the dress as he pulled at one of the straps, letting it slide down your shoulder. Then the other. Eddie undid the zipper from behind you as slowly as he had pulled it up the day before in the dressing room. Except for this time, you were not wearing a bra underneath it. It wasn't the kind of dress that would really work with one, you had thought in the morning. It certainly wouldn't look pretty, with the undergarment straps visible, and you wanted to look nice when seeing Eddie… so, that is how you ended up sitting on the floor in this old house, hands on your lap as Eddie pulled the dress off of your top half, revealing your breasts to the hot air.
'So beautiful.' he said, mumbling something under his breath again. 'Absolutely beautiful. He let his hand wander over to your chest, toying with the nipples, taking turns in giving attention to them. To think he was the first person to have the pleasure to touch you like this. To make you arch your back with just a simple pinch– oh, and the sounds that fell from your lips as he pulled at them, he started to feel the constraint of his jeans. Stand up. 
Your legs were already sore from the position you had been sitting in, and they trembled as you got up. The dress fell off your legs, down to the ground as you did. You stepped out of it, accidentally kicking it to the side. A bitter smell erupted from somewhere in the room like the smoke was getting stronger. 
'What is that?'
'Nothing,' Eddie's calm tone had wavered for a moment, or so it seemed his following words were just as smooth and charming as before. 'Nothing you have to worry your pretty little head about. Just, c'mere,' It would have been difficult for you to do that with the blindfold in front of your eyes, but he had reached out with his hands to you.
And then, his lips were on yours. They were chapped as always, feeling a bit rough compared to how soft yours were. He tasted like the cigarettes he smokes when you aren't around, combined with another bitter flavour you couldn't place. It was soo much to take in, your senses all going into overdrive trying to keep up with him. You didn't know what to do with yourself, so you stood still, letting your lips move accordingly to how his did. But he kissed you with such an urgency, such hunger and vigour; you could hardly keep up.
It was messy and left your head spinning, nothing like you had actually expected your first kiss to be, but it was still perfect, as it was with Eddie. 
You were now completely naked, standing in this attic room filled with candles; Eddie was holding on to your sides, kissing your neck. Each time his lips left your skin, it didn't even matter as you could still feel him on you. The trace he left behind was sloppy and needy and seeking out the weak spot on your neck so you could roll your head back in pleasure. All of these feelings were so new to you, so overwhelming, but you understood why Eddie wanted you to wait, why you had to be ready for this… and it was only the beginning. 
Perhaps Eddie got a bit over-excited, for he suddenly picked you up off the ground, hands around your thighs. The suddenness made you scream out. You were utterly disorientated as he took a few stops and then dropped you down onto the bed. It could not have been a drop of more than a foot, but your stomach twisted. The mattress creaked loudly underneath you, but didn't continue as Eddie had not joined you in the bed just yet. So you lay there, waiting for whatever would come next– which was that Eddie had grabbed you by the hand and pulled you across to the head of the bed. A shriek left your lips. It would have been better if he had told you what he would be doing. The constant uncertainty of it all made your brain whirl. 
And then he took your other hand, before you could even say something and gripped both your wrists tightly. 
'Eddie, what–' you felt the cold metal against your skin and the faint clink of something locking. When he released your arms, you wanted to pull them away from what you assumed was the headboard, but you could barely move anymore. 
'Remember those handcuffs that always hang in my room,' Eddie had leaned down beside the bed to be at your level. As you could not see anything, you kept your head straight up, directed at the ceiling. Your breathing got heavier, the constraints confusing you, but Eddie had his reasons. 'It might all get a bit too much for you at a certain point, so this will help you keep grounded. And a physical restraint helps us as a reminder that we should restrict ourselves in indulgences, the things that only break us more. We do not want to get carried away, so this will help, I promise. Just trust me.' He kissed your cheek, which felt wet for some reason. His thumb brushed over the same spot his lips had just met, and then, for a short time that felt like an eternity, there was nothing. Eddie had moved to another part of the room; you could still hear him, walking, shuffling around, mumbling his usual incoherent phrases to himself. You tried to listen to them, finally trying to make out what he was saying, but it was too soft of a whisper that ended too close to his mouth. 
'My little lost sheep has finally found her way,' he said when he came back, the weight on the bed shifted, 'I have done my best guiding you towards this point, y/n, have done anything I could to protect you, to make sure you ended up here, where you belong. Now, you have to tell me, make the final decision– do you want this?' 
'Yes.' You wanted him. He had been gone far too long, and you were already missing his touch. The anticipation was building inside you, coming together at your centre, burning with a need for him. You had thought that hunger and thirst that had been torturing you over the past weeks, the one Eddie had told you to ignore, that it had died down after the little help he had given you, but it was all coming back ten times worse. Something in you was eating you alive, and you couldn't lay still anymore, closing your legs, trying to get some kind of friction from the movement of rubbing them together, trying to find an angle at which some kind of relief would come out. 
'Should have brought something to tie those pretty legs down as well. Stop, please.' He placed his hand over your thigh, rubbing circles over it slowly, 'you're gonna hurt yourself, moving like that.' So, you did stop, both the wiggling of your legs and tugging at the cuffs in frustration. His touch on your leg got rougher as he spread your legs wide open, revealing you to him. 
'Yes, there is no doubt about it, sweetheart. You are ready.' He said voice laced with something that you had never really heard before in Eddie– pure lust. So ready, and he touched you. Right there, between your legs, this time with no panties or jeans to keep you apart, you felt his calloused fingers slide right over your slit. He moved his hand up and down, stroking lightly, and with each lap, he would add a bit more pressure, letting his fingers slip past your folds but not entering you quite yet.  
You moaned; you didn't whimper, mewl or giggle. You moaned out his name. He had broken you now. Unsealed you. He was going to make you his. 
His little lamb. 
His fingers started moving faster, slipping inside you now and then, teasing. But you took it all so well, taking anything he gave you with the most gratitude. It was all so new, so much all at once; even a tease of his fingers was enough to make you see stars. He broke your barrier, broke you; there was no going back now that his fingers were deep inside you. Each time shooting up sparks through your body, letting you revel in it. You pulled at the handcuffs again, not because you needed to get out of them, but because you felt the urge to react somehow, and this was the only thing you could do. Hands tied up in the metal, legs spread out, and hips pushed down by Eddie's grip, you were stuck in a prison of delectation.  
As his fingers continued making you feel ecstatic, he kissed your thighs over and over again. A sweet and haste peppering of his lips at your sensitive skin, hot and needy for both of you. When he pulled his fingers away from you, you could hear a smacking sound, followed by a hum. 
'You know what you taste like, sweetheart?' 
'No?' you could not say that had ever been something you thought about, but now that he had subjected the question, you were eager to find out. 
'You taste like the sweetest nectar,' he kissed your stomach, 'Perfect and pure.' He could not get enough of your authenticity, your unadulterated and untouched body. It still hurt him to think that it would not last much longer, this vestal beauty and glow that seemed to radiate off you, but something so much better would come. Just you wait and see… 
Eddie started repeating his little phrases anew as the kisses continued, and, this time, you could hear his mumbled words more clearly, each syllable emphasised with a breath of hot air against your core. The exact meaning of the words might have escaped you, but it did not stop them from sounding like what it was. A prayer, a blessing, finished with his sigh of "Hail Lord Vecna" in almost a whisper, before delving between your legs and kissing you there passionately. 
The scream had not meant to come out, as the only thing you felt was a foreign pleasure. It was just a heavy shock to the system. Never before had you felt something like that. 
Eddie's tongue pressed deeper into you, dipping at your sweetest spot, licking at your arousal. Before this, the handcuffs had not felt much like a nuisance, but you understood it now. All you wanted to do was to grab Eddie by the hair, pull it, show him how good it made you feel– but it could be distracting. It could pull him out of his concentration, ruin his whole plan, everything he had worked so hard on. 
Yes, he had prepared, as he knew exactly what he was doing, reaching your desired spots, kissing you in a way you never expected a kiss to feel. You were glad he didn't tell you to keep quiet, because it did not seem to be a possible task. Moans kept leaving your mouth constantly.
'Eddie! Oh my–' your eyes rolled back, hips bucked up, which Eddie quickly pushed back down. But, to your horror, he pulled away from you entirely, and if you could see him, you would have seen his eyes, now almost as dark as a starless night, stare at you. 
'It's not me you should be thanking,' he kissed your pelvis before whispering another "hail Lord Vecna". 
'Hail Lord Vecna,' you repeated after him, but much breathier. 
'Yes, good, sweetheart. Say it again, Louder. He will be so happy to hear your voice say his name.' he encouraged. 
'Hail Lord Vecna,' you dared to say it, and Eddie supported it with a new kiss toward your clit. Then, with each repeat of the phrase, he extended it and kissed you longer and deeper until he was back to eating you out completely. 
Hail 
Lord 
Vecna
Not long after, the feeling came back, except ten times harder, as if you had already been circling around it for hours. Again, the knot in your stomach tightened. It was coming closer and closer– 
But Eddie pulled away again, at which you mewled out. 
'No, please, please,' you whined, much to his amusement. Eddie started making his way up again, hands on either side of you, leaving kisses all over your body, his metal necklace chain trailing behind until he reached your lips once more. His chin was wet with your juices, and you could taste yourself on him as he kissed you. A flavour that turned your stomach, but Eddie's hands were still on you, kneading and squeezing at thighs and hips, and then he pulled the blindfold off of you. It was dimly dark in the room, but you still had to get used to the light of the candles. Most of them had already started burning out. 
Eddie hovered above you, the white handkerchief in his mouth before he spat it out next to you. His hair fell down his face, the tips tickling at your collarbone and neck. All you wanted to do was to brush your hair through it, but you couldn't move your arms more than an inch away from the ornate headboard. 
'Eddie,' you whimpered, tugging at the handcuffs again. He just smiled and leaned in to kiss you again. That's when you noticed he had also taken off his clothes. You were both naked, piled on top of each other, in the most intimate and compromising position a person could find themselves in. 
Your heart was beating faster and faster, pushing against your chest, drumming in your ears. This was it. This is what everything had been leading up to. The moment Eddie had been preparing you for. The climax of his plan. 
He kissed you once more, tenderly.
'This might hurt, baby, but it should. It will be a good pain. The best feeling you've ever felt, so don't be scared, ok? It's all going to be ok.' He spoke with his eyes locked on yours; you were dazed and confused, unsure what he was talking about. You had already felt so good, couldn't possibly imagine something that would feel even better. 
But then the pain did come. There where his fingers, and his tongue, had been, and now you felt something stretch you out on the inside. Eddie pushed inside you, ripping you open, stretching you out. 
'Eddie!' You tugged at the handcuffs, but they didn't budge just like before. 
'Shh, this is good. It will be over soon. Trust me. Just trust me,' he repeated as he moved his hips. Moving out of you, but the pain didn't stop. Not when he pushed back into you or when he moved back out. With every thrust, it seemed to get worse, harsher and rougher, the pain not ceasing to stop but instead shooting up your spine. Soon, the tears started to roll down your cheeks again. 
'It's ok, it's all alright,' Eddie whispered, kissing your nose, but he let the tears roll this time, dropping down your ears into your hair and onto the mattress. Just another sign of your loss and what you were willing to give him. How good you were, so willing to give yourself up for the cause. He was so proud, and then your moans returned, and he felt his heart grow twice in size. You looked, sounded, and felt so perfect. 'Yes, that's right. So good. C'mon, baby, doesn't this feel good?' 
'Yes, yes,' you managed to say. The pain had finally receded and slowly turned to the promised pleasure you had been waiting for. The moans were now seeping out of you, body shaking at the force he was taking you with. His lips had made their way down to your breast, kissing at the valley between them, kissing over your pebbled nipples, sucking lightly, stimulating an even higher scream of pleasure from you. He kept on going, hard and fast. 
How right he had been, saying this would be the best feeling you'd ever feel. There was nothing like it than to feel him inside you, stretching you out, hitting at the right places that made your toes curl. He kept this power over you with just his movements, controlling your body with his, giving you so much to respond to. He had prepared, knew what to do to the right reactions out of you, what would please or not, what to do to make it all work. Not much longer now. It was so close, all coming to an end. 
'So beautiful,' his voice was airy but in a lost sense. He was seeking out oxygen as he continued his strikes. Both your breathing started to get heavier; everything was getting hotter and hotter around you. Your stomach tightened, and you remembered what Eddie had told you the first time it happened. 
'Eddie! I- I'm–' what was it that he had called it? You whimpered the words out before it got too much. 'I'm close! Please.' What you were pleading for, you weren't sure. But you had waited so long, so excruciatingly long, you couldn't take it anymore. 
'Wait, baby. Just a bit longer.' He huffed out, his thrusts becoming sloppier. 
'Eddie,' you cried out. How much more could you possibly wait before you would explode? 
'Be good for me. I know you can do it.' You wanted to cry and scream. He had made you wait so long, then said you were ready, just for you to wait even more. When would it finally end? When could you finally gain your euphoric release? 
Was this the sacrifice? This torture he put you under, was it all for the sake of his plan? Would this appeal to Vecna? Your tears and screams as you lost a piece of yourself to him, would that heal the broken part of the world? 
'Hail Lord Vecna,' he grunted with his final juts of the hips. It made your ears ring and your skin rise in goosebumps. And this gravelly coarseness stayed in his voice. 'Come. Come to me.' 
You would follow him anywhere; you knew that. And as he stopped to let his pleasure release into you, you followed right after. Stars were crossing over your shut eyes. You couldn't breathe, move, or do anything but let it all wash over you. A million butterflies fluttered inside you. 
Eddie cursed as he pulled out of you, and you immediately felt empty. It was like a spell had immediately dissolved out of you, and the fatigue took over. 
Just like that, it was over. 
'Here we go,' he breathed out, pulling the chain off his neck, where his guitar pick hung, but now it was also joined by the little key that fits into the handcuff lock. With a click, one cuff opened, then the other, and you were free to let your arms drop to your sides. 
You thought that moving was not an option anymore as you lay in that old bed, staring at the cracks in the wooden ceiling. The muscles in your arms were already souring, only to get even worse by the time the sun would rise again. You'd have to get home, but the idea of just getting up off the mattress was making you tired. Even rolling over to your side to greet Eddie's face was too much at the moment. 
But you could not stay there forever; the candles would burn out entirely soon, shrouding you in darkness and the cold. So, slowly you managed to get up, ignoring how everything seemed to sway around you. Just had to close your eyes for a second. 
You rubbed at your wrists, which were now red and sore from the handcuffs. Eddie had gotten off the bed, too, pulling his shirt over his head as you looked around to see your dress on the floor. The white fabric was covered in red stains. There was no way you could wear this outside now; what would your parents think if they saw the blood?! And maybe, relatively, it wasn't even that big of an amount, but the contrast on the snow white enhanced each drop to an extreme. 
'Eddie,' you gasped, reaching out for the garment, and that is when you noticed the scorch marks underneath. That bitter, smoky smell– it had been your dress burning. You wanted to cry. It was the only thing you had brought with you– your special gift from Eddie nonetheless– and it was now completely destroyed. 'I don't–' 
'Shhh,' he sat back down on the bed, taking your hand in his. The wounds on both of you had stopped bleeding entirely and were closing up, but it still hurt when he dragged his finger along the harsh line. Then, he leaned down and pulled a duffel bag from underneath the bed. It must have been where he had carried everything in. when he opened the bag, you saw a sealed candle, identical to some of the lit, nearly burned up ones around you. But he wasn't pulling the candle out of the bag. Instead, Eddie showed you clothes you recognised all too well. 'I brought these for you in case the dress wouldn't work out after all.' And he handed you the shirt and shorts, both yours, which you had had for years, your favourite until you had lost them, so you thought. Things got misplaced; after all, you could have easily forgotten them once you had been at Eddie's place. 
The fact he had kept them for you and brought them along to this house in case you would need a spare change of clothes… warmed your heart. 
With happy tears threatening to escaper your eyes, you hid your face in the crook of his neck. 
'I'm sorry, Eddie', you mumbled against him, still feeling horrible that his gift to you had been ruined. 
'It's ok, baby. We'll get you a new one.'  He caressed his hand over your back, giving you something to find comfort in. after all, that's all he wanted, for you to be safe and happy. Nothing but the best for his sweet little lamb. Always leading her in the right direction, straying from the dark and the dangerous. 'How about a black, this time? Or a pretty red one?' 
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lowkeyremi · 3 months
Text
Haikyuu men as fathers pt. 5
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
Ft. Ushijima, Kita, Kyotani and Asahi
Note: The age range of the kids will differ for each character but it’s from babies up til like 17 or 18. Bringing this series back for someone who requested Kita :3 @warriordemigosworld
content: Indication of pregnancy, relationships, marriage, certain styles of parenting, etc
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Ushijima Wakatoshi
When you arrive home you're met with the sight of both your husband and your baby girl knocked out on the couch. Her little head is resting upon his chest, her small hand curled up in a fist too.
You can see the drool on his shirt from her little lips. She's just so tiny and he's so big. Whenever you'd post them on your social media the first thing people comment on is the size difference. They always talk about how soft and gentle he is with his baby girl for such a big man.
Wakatoshi seems to notice your staring because his olive eyes open looking around for a second before they meet yours.
"Looks like you two had a good time." A smirk graces your lips. He chuckles quietly, rubbing her back when she starts to stir awake.
"She wanted to play animals so I dressed up as a tiger for her. She insisted that she should paint my face to make me look the part." Oh. So that's why his face is orange with smears of black on it.
"I'm guessing she was a baby tiger?" Your little girl's face was also colored in orange and black face paint.
"Precisely." Wakatoshi watches as you pull out your phone and snap a few pics.
"I'm sure Grandma and Papa would want to see what you two were up to today." He nods, a small smile gracing his face.
Wakatoshi is the kind of parent to let his child experience little moments that make them happy
He doesn't limit their imagination as his mother tried too when he was younger because of his left-handedness
GENTLE GIANTTTTTTT
He doesn't enjoy singing but he will hum his baby to sleep
When his baby was little he would always have her sleep on his chest which is why she's so used to it (i love his chest....)
all in all ushi is such a good dad
Kita Shinsuke
You were watching as Shinsuke and your little boy were out in the rice fields. There were two cold glasses of water waiting for them when they came back.
They had matching hats and overalls; the whole thing. Shinsuke insisted his six year old should be interested in little boy stuff like playing and discovering the world, but your little boy wanted to help his daddy out in the fields.
So of course, Shinsuke would show him how to do basic things around the rice fields. He made his son a mini bag of rice to carry since the normal bags are way too heavy for a six year old.
Little giggles escape your lips watching the two of them haul the bags of rice toward his truck.
"Are you helping daddy out?" You ask recording him.
"Yep! I'm almost as strong as daddy is!" To prove his point he flexes his little muscles.
"Oh wow!! You are super strong." Shinsuke chuckles too. He's sweating up a storm, wiping his forehead every few minutes.
"Do my two favorite boys want to come take a water break?" Your husband is grateful for your observation skills, he could use some water.
Your son looks to his father waiting to see what he says. The little boy admires his father with his life.
"Yeah let's get some water, bud." Shinsuke scoops up his son causing the little boy much joy.
Kita is very stern with his kids, he likes order (which is why they have so much respect for him)
Almost never breaks the rules like if there's not supposed to be any sweets before bed he'll listen to the rules even if his kids beg and beg
He teaches them to be honest hard working children (just like how he was when he used to help his grandma clean)
There are fun days too, he'll take them to amusement parks and such.. only for good behavior though
lmaoo I think he looks a little scary to other kids, so when he's chaperoning at field trips and stuff none of the kids (even the most mischievous ones) dare to act up
he's always taking his kiddos to onigiri miya because they always talk about how much they "love their uncle samu's food!!"
if they show any interest in volleyball he takes them to see the red falcons (aran) or the black jackals (atsumu) they always think it's the coolest thing ever
Kyotani Kentaro
The screaming match going on downstairs didn't concern you in the slightest.
Your husband and your daughters do this at least once a day, which is why you're still laying in bed minding your own business.
"IF YOU DON'T DO YOUR PROJECT YOU'LL FAIL!" Kentaro yelled at his ten year old daughter. She was; in your opinion a carbon copy of her father.
"I DON'T WANT TO!!! IT'S BORING-UHHHHHH." She drags out the last syllable, causing a giggle to leave your lips.
"WELL LET'S GO SEE WHAT YOUR MOM HAS TO SAY ABOUT IT." You pretend to sleep as the three of them stomp up the stairs to see what you have to say.
"[name], your child won't-" when he notices that you're "sleeping" he shushes his children and walks them out of the room.
You hear a mumbled, "Will you do it if I help you?"
The older daughter of yours agrees with her father's suggestion. The younger one has no clue what's going on but she wants to be included too. So, she also hums in agreement.
He communicates his love through snarky comments and eye rolls
Doesn't find them annoying, just could use a break sometimes
He thought being a dad would be a piece of cake.. imagine his surprise when he changes his first poopy diaper
Scary dog privileges still apply; no one dares to look at his kids wrong, much less try to hurt them
He girls think it's funny that he's "bald"
Will NEVER admit it but he is a girl dad
Azumane Asahi
"I think I'm gonna be sick, babe, what if we don't find him?" Asahi asks tugging in your shirt sleeve. This isn't your best parenting moment; your little boy is lost somewhere inside this huge Costco. Your son who's eight insisted he'd go grocery shopping with you even though he was probably gonna complain after ten minutes about his legs hurting.
Of course your husband wanted to tag along. He enjoys family bonding and he saw this grocery trip as an opportunity to execute it. The two of you had gotten so caught up in conversation that you didn't even realize your son went missing for maybe four or five minutes? You hope it was only that long.
"Ren! Where are you honey?!" You yell out, not too loud so it's not fairly obvious of your failure as a parent but loud enough that he could hear you and follow the sound of your voice.
To make matters worse he has his nintendo switch that his eyes are probably glued to.
"Oh baby, what.. what if someone takes him?" Asahi's voice sounds horrified. Little seeds of insecurity make their way into your brain, but you must keep strong because your husband is absolutely losing his shit.
"Management on aisle twenty-seven, we have a child climbing the racks." You two give each other a knowing look. That sounds 100% like something your son would do.
"You stay here with the basket, I'll go get him." Asahi says leaving no room for argument when he runs off to get his child.
Within a few minutes he returns with Ren. Asahi's confused by the way you giggle, but you find it cute how his man bun was undone, most likely from running fast.
"Man, I haven't ran that fast since high scho-"
"Dad you need to work out more!!" Naive little Ren says, causing his father to sigh loudly with a cheeky smile.
"And you," you say pointing to the little boy in question, "need to stay where mom and dad can see you. Are we clear?"
He nods in a respectful manner.
"Now let's finish shopping.. as a family."
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reputationmunson · 1 year
Text
Bad Habit | Eddie Munson x Harrington!Reader
[3.0k]
Summary: your brother’s friend has a bad habit of sneaking into your bedroom
Content: Smut (18+ ONLY), AFAB!reader, r is Steve’s adopted sister and is a year younger than him, making out, grinding, oral/fingering (f receiving), virgin!reader, some pet names, fluff, two dummies in love <3
part two
The first time Eddie climbed through your bedroom window, you thought he was just trying to scare you. You had no idea you’d end that night in Eddie Munson’s lap desperately making out and barely giving in to the need for air.
Now, it’s a part of your nightly routine. It’s pretty simple.
Step 1: Get ready for bed
Step 2: Say goodnight to your naive brother
Step 3: Triple check that your door is locked and let in the cute boy patiently waiting outside your window
Sneaking around with Eddie made you feel alive. He sees you for who you really are.
Everyone else sees you as the quiet, innocent girl that occupies the corner of a room while your eyes wander, observing the people around you. While there’s nothing wrong with those things, Eddie knew you were much more than that and he was the perfect person to help you break out of your shell.
People expect you to be just like your brother. But when you turned out to be the complete opposite, no one paid much attention to you. As much as you loved Steve, being in his shadow made you feel invisible.
You weren’t much of a partier and you weren’t… friendly like Steve was. And by friendly you meant a little slutty. It was hard to get out there and make more friends let alone date anybody.
You were so drawn to Eddie from the moment you met him and ever since that first night he snuck into your room, you felt your walls start to come down and he’s the only person that doesn’t make that scary.
——————————————————————————
Three taps on your window alert you that Eddie’s outside. You scurry over to let him in and greet him with a quick peck on the lips. Your arms wrap around his neck and his hands find your waist, pulling you a step closer to him.
“Hey, gorgeous” He says with his signature smirk on his face.
“Hi’ You reply, shyly. Even though Eddie helps you out of your comfort zone, you can’t help but avert eye contact whenever he compliments you.
Every time you do, Eddie puts his hand under your chin and gently tilts your head up. “Don’t hide from me, pretty girl” He loves making you bashful almost as much as he loves kissing you.
Eddie guides you to your bed, never breaking eye contact. He falls backwards and pulls you down with him, making you giggle.
“I missed you” He whispers quietly, like he’s scared you’ll hear him being vulnerable. “I missed you, too.” Usually you would make a joke like “yeah it’s been a whole twenty-four hours. How did you survive?” But you always miss him.
You can’t exactly tell him you wish you could shrink yourself to three inches tall so you can live in his pocket and never be apart, so you cover it up with humor. But right now, there’s nothing funny about the way your heart is beating because of the way he’s looking at you. Like you’re the only girl in the world.
Eddie likes to tease you. He thinks it’s cute that you whine when he doesn’t immediately give you what you want. He knows it's a little mean but it makes him feel wanted and being wanted by you is the best thing he’s ever experienced.
His nose brushes yours and you think he’s going to put his lips on yours, but instead he gives you a soft kiss on your cheek. Then on your forehead. And one on both corners of your mouth.
“Eddiieeee” You whine and he chuckles. “What, baby?” He asks like he has no clue what he’s doing to you. So as expected, you do your signature pouty face and he has to act like it doesn’t affect him as much as it actually does.
You decide you can’t wait anymore. You take his face in your hands and lean in to get what you’ve been waiting for all day.
His hand comes up to grab a hold of your wrist. You worry he's going to remove your hands from his face, but he just keeps his hand on your wrist, rubbing it lovingly with his thumb. His other hand goes to rest on your lower back, sliding under your shirt. The feeling of his big hand on the bare skin of your back sends shivers down your spine.
Eddie’s tongue swipes across your bottom and you open your mouth to grant him access. He brings the hand that’s holding your wrist to where his other hand rests on your lower back. Both hands begin to slide up your back, making your shirt ride up all the way to your shoulder blades.
You let out a small gasp, suddenly feeling exposed. “You okay?” Eddie asks, worried by your reaction to your shirt being halfway off. You hum in response and find his lips again.
For the past month, you and Eddie hadn’t gone further than messily making out and clothed dry humping. It’s not that you don’t want to go further. You want nothing more than to rip his clothes off and then have him do the same to you, but you worry that your lack of experience would turn him off.
It was no secret to Eddie that you were a virgin. Considering he was your first kiss since Bobby Hopkins in the third grade and how nervous you got around him, it wasn’t that hard to piece together. Of course he wants to be your first time, but doesn't want to pressure you. If things never went any further and he had to go home and jerk off after every makeout session, he would happily do so.
After a while, you pull back for air and roll off of Eddie, laying on your side to look at him. He rolls on his side to look at you. “Hi” He speaks up, scooting closer to you. “Hi” You place a kiss on the tip of his nose. His hand comes up to rest on your hip and you cover his hand with your own.
Neither of you speak a word. You just stare into each other's eyes with lovesick smiles on your faces and soak in each other's presence. These nights are your favorite. Everytime you all hang out in a group, you ache to touch him. It’s difficult to keep your hands off one another, but it’s a sacrifice you’re willing to make if it means keeping your brother from killing Eddie.
Eddie’s about to say something but before he can, there’s a knock at your door. “y/n?’’ Steve calls out your name from the other side of your bedroom door. Your eyes widen and both of you freeze. Steve says your name again and you know he isn’t going away until you respond.
“Y-yeah?” You barely get out. Steve tries to open your door and sounds offended when it doesn’t open. “Why the hell is your door locked?” He’s still wiggling the doorknob. “Because I’m allowed to lock it. How can I help you?” Eddie snorts at this and you glare at him.
“Do you have my walkman?” You can’t help but roll your eyes at this question. “No, I don’t have your walkman. I have my own walkman that I got on the same Christmas that you got yours. I’ll help you look in the morning.” You hear Steve huff dramatically and walk away.
“I’m gonna put on some music” You say before rolling off your bed. “Play my favorite?” Eddie requests. You were going to play his favorite anyway.
Once the music starts, you turn around and see Eddie playing air guitar. He’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. You don’t move from where you're standing. You just stay put and watch him act like a total idiot. He’d act like an idiot for the rest of his life if it meant making you smile.
He finishes his air guitar solo and looks over at you and tilts his head. “C'mere,” He says, motioning for you to sit next to him.
Once you get to the bed, you crawl towards him and straddle his lap. Feeling hot and bothered, you place your hands on his shoulders and start to grind down on him. Eddie lets out a sigh and throws his head back to rest on your headboard.
Feeling bold, you take his chin in your hand and move his head so he’s looking at you. He puts his hands on your hips and encourages you to move faster.
You can feel him getting hard and you let out a small moan. Eddie puts a hand on the back of your head and pushes you closer to him, capturing you in a breathtaking kiss.
You’re moaning into each other's mouths and it feels so good, but you need more. You pull away from him and take a second to catch your breath, thinking of how you want to word what you’re about to say.
Eddie can tell you want to tell him something. “What is it, baby?” He brings a hand to your face and rubs his thumb back and forth on your cheek. Your heart swells at how well he knows you.
“I was wondering if we could take things a bit further tonight.” You respond and his smile widens. “Hell yeah we can. You sure?” You can’t nod fast enough.
“Lay on your back for me. Don’t be scared to tell me if you want me to stop, kay?”
“Okay” You smile and roll onto your back.
Eddie hovers over you and leans down to give you a quick peck on the lips. Then he starts to kiss down your jaw and to your neck. He starts with light kisses and when he hits the sensitive spot on your neck, he kisses harder. He starts to suck on your sensitive spot, making you moan.
Usually, you both steer clear hickeys to avoid questionings from any of your friends and your brother, especially. But right now, you’re so turned on you can’t find it in yourself to care. You wrap your arms around his back and push his full weight onto you. He licks and kisses at the fresh mark.
“Fuck, that feels nice” You moan out. “Want me to do something even better?” He pulls back and smirks at you. “Please.”
He goes to tug at the hem of your shirt and looks at you for approval. Once you give it to him, he removes your shirt and is pleased to see that you aren’t wearing a bra. He looks up at you and raises his eyebrows. “What? No sane woman wears a bra to bed.” He laughs and shakes his head. “Trust me, I am not complaining.”
He goes back to kissing your neck. His kisses start moving down to your chest and he plants one on each of your breasts before taking one of your nipples in his mouth.
It feels…different, but in the best way possible. “Eddie, that feels so good” You’re trying to keep quiet but you’re feeling things you’ve never felt before.
“Say my name again”
“Do something that will make me say your name again”
You can tell he’s surprised at that.
“Challenge accepted”
He kisses down your stomach and puts his fingers in the waistband of your shorts. At a torturously slow place, he pulls your shorts down and throws them on the floor. “No panties either? Is it my birthday, sweetheart?” You laugh and roll your eyes. “Get back to it, Munson” You say in the most unserious tone ever. “Jeez, okay. Someone’s bossy”
“Eddie?”
“Yeah?”
“Can you, uh, take your shirt off too? This feels unfair”
Eddie doesn’t hesitate to take off his shirt.
“Maybe your pants too?”
“Anything for you” And he means it.
He stands up to take off his pants. Once they’re off you can see how hard he is and your jaw drops. Your clit throbs at the sight and you involuntarily whine.
Eddie sits on his knees, placing himself in between your legs. “I’m gonna touch you now, okay?” “Eddie, please. Need you” you mewl.
He runs a finger through your folds and groans at how wet you are. “All this for me, baby?”
You nod “Just for you. Always”
“Tell me, pretty girl. Do you ever touch yourself and think of me?” He starts to slowly rub your clit. Your eyes roll back and you slap your hand over your mouth to muffle your moans. “Tell me or I’ll stop” You remove your hand from your mouth and try to keep quiet. “Yes. Every night after you leave”
He starts rubbing your clit a little faster and you start to lose composure. “What do you think about?”
“I think about you touching me. Just like this. Or going down on me. I think about your cock inside me. Fucking me until I can’t take it anymore” You admit. “Hmm. I think we could start to make some of those fantasies realities”
He removes his fingers from your clit and you feel like you’re gonna pass away if he doesn’t make you cum any time soon. “Eddie, please don’t stop. pleasepleaseplease. Touch me again” You feel desperate for begging, but lucky for you, Eddie is even more turned on than before.
He doesn’t say anything. He just lays down between your legs, admiring how wet you are. You’re about to beg some more but then he starts to run his tongue up and down your folds. “Oh my god”
He begins to suck your clit and it feels so fucking good you can’t believe it. Sure, you’ve heard your friends talk about it, but you never would’ve imagined it feeling this good.
Your eyes start to tear up and you look down at Eddie, letting out a moan when you see how much he’s enjoying it.
Your fingers thread through his hair and pull it a little, making him moan into your pussy. You swear you feel the vibrations throughout your entire body. You don’t think it can get any better until Eddie slowly inserts a finger into you. You would have expected it to feel uncomfortable, but there's nothing unpleasant about it. “More, Eds” You plead.
He thinks about teasing you for a second, but he knows how badly you want it. He obliges and inserts another finger, reaching that spot you can never reach on your own.
You can feel the tension building in your stomach and Eddie starts going faster. His fingers are pumping in and out of you and you can hear how wet you are. He’s eating you out like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. Eddie can’t help rutting up against the mattress. The way your pussy feels and the noises you make are driving him fucking mad. Both of you swear you’ve died and gone to heaven.
It hits you like a fucking bus. Your back is arching off the bed and you have to cover your face with your pillow because it’s impossible to keep quiet. You’ve never been more thankful that you don’t share a wall with Steve.
Eddie works you through your orgasm and slowly takes his fingers out of you when you're finished. You look lifeless and he can’t help but chuckle at how blissed out you look. He slowly crawls next to you and lays down,
“You alright?” He whispers.
“Well, I feel like I left my body for a second so I would say I’m more than alright.”
“Good. So you had fun?” Eddie sounds insecure. You turn to look at him before you respond.
“Eddie, were you not there? I was losing my mind. I had no idea it could be that good” You give him a well-deserved ego boost and he flashes his million dollar smile. “Okay, your turn.” You say, eagerly. “Don’t worry, babe. I came in my boxer like a goddamn teenager.” His cheeks turn red and you give him a kiss on the cheek. “Next time?” you ask. “Definitely”
You lay your head on his chest and he wraps an arm around you. “Thank you” You say, snuggling as close as possible. “For what?” He starts to rub your back. “Everything. My life’s better with you in it’’ Eddie’s heart nearly bursts. He can’t believe he’s improved your life even a little bit.
“Anything for my girl” He kisses the top of your head. Your lift your head up and look at him with the biggest smile on your face “Your girl?” Eddie tries to play it cool “Yeah, if that’s something you’d be interested in.” You can’t think of anything else you’d rather be. “Only if you agree to be my boyfriend.” “Hm.. can I think about it?” You playfully smack his chest. He grabs your hand and kissed it, looking into your eyes.
“How about you agree to be my girlfriend and I’ll agree to be your boyfriend and everyone’s happy”
“Deal, boyfriend” You can’t resist the urge to kiss him any longer. He hums in appreciation and the kiss goes on longer than intended.
“I should probably get going” He sighs. “Nooooo” you protest, holding on to him tighter. “I know, but I gotta unless you want to risk your overprotective brother finding out I’m here” You know he’s right and you move allowing him to get up. He hands you the clothes thrown on the floor and you both get dressed.
“Maybe I can stay with you tomorrow night? I can tell Steve I’m staying with a friend.” You move to stand in front of Eddie. “Yeah, I’d like that.” He smiles and pulls you in for a hug.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” You nod and he gives you one last kiss.
You watch him climb out of your window and after you shut it, you stare out your window to watch him run out of your yard. He turns around to give you a wave and being the wonderful girlfriend that you are, you decide to flash him. Without hesitation, Eddie lifts his shirt up and flashes you back, causing you to laugh a little too loud.
There’s no doubt in your mind that this is the man you’re going to spend your life with.
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dilemmaontwolegs · 6 months
Text
Not A Verstappen: Lights Out {3}
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: You get a glimpse into the future with Charles and Lando as fathers. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, fluff WC: 1.5k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten NAV: Lights Out One || Two || Three || Four
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You collapsed breathless on top of Charles and let your eyes fall shut as the heat inside the SUV soared. Steam fogged the windows and the sounds of your boyfriends panting filled the small space. 
Lando hummed as he sat back on his knees and watched his release, and Charles’, leak out from you. “Missed this pretty mess you make when we fill you up.”
“Putain, oui,” Charles agreed with a deeply satisfied chuckle. “Feels amazing.”
They were absolutely right, it did feel amazing - especially when it had been almost a week since you last had sex. It was almost a record, and not one you wanted to break anytime soon.
“We should head back,” you said despite wanting to stay exactly as you were. “We should also buy something so it actually looks like we went out.”
“Pretty sure your mum knows how much you hate shopping, and do you really want to risk being spotted?”
Lando made a fair point and you climbed off Charles so you could pull your panties back up and push your dress back down. Max’s plane would be tracked to the local airport so soon everyone would know where you were hiding. You would rather savour the peace and quiet before the paparazzi started to haunt you.
Once you got to Austin there would be no place to hide.
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Sitting in the backyard of the pub, you watched the sun set over the countryside backdrop with bittersweet happiness. Luka was squealing with joy as Charles tossed him high into the air and Lando was sprawled on the grass with Lio and Mila clambering over him. It was like a little glimpse into the future you would have all too soon, but it still didn’t feel real. 
“What are you doing, hiding in the corner?” Max took a seat beside you on the bench and scanned the groups that had broken off from the crowd. You could smell the gin in his drink and took a sip of your lemonade as you longed for your usual drink. It didn’t help Lando had ordered you Sprite No Sugar, you weren’t even allowed that anymore.
“Just thinking.”
“I tried that once, but it didn’t work out well for me,” he joked, nudging you with his shoulder when he didn’t get a response. “What are you thinking about?”
You sighed and shifted to face him. “Were you scared you were going to mess up Penelope?”
“No,” he scoffed. 
“Right, because you are good at everything,” you nodded solemnly. “Stupid question.”
“No, it’s because I’m not her father, and I’m not trying to be her father because she already has one. So it is not the same.” Max looked to where Lando and Charles had moved onto dancing with the kids. It probably wasn’t quite dancing, but they were all hugging each other and gently swaying to the music. “You three are going to be fine. You’ve got the responsible parent, the fun one and the worrier.”
“I don’t really want to know who you think is who,” you chuckled, feeling a little better. But another thought had plagued you and there was only one person you could admit it to without fear of judgement. “This is going to sound terrible, but I wish she was a boy.”
Max’s brows shot up his face. “Why?”
You toyed with the condensation running down your glass, drawing little pictures as you spoke. “What if she wants to race? It’s in her blood but this industry is tough on girls, Max. I don’t want her going through the same bullshit I had to.”
“You’re worrying about something that is at least 15 years away, zusje. A lot can change in that time. Plus, she will have you, her fathers and a scary uncle who have been there to make sure she gets treated right.”
You looked across at the young man struggling to understand the horse-riding terms Flo was talking about. “Arthur’s not that scary.”
You laughed at the indignant sound Max made. “Okay, you’re right, you’re right. I don’t need to worry about that now. I just need to get through the rest of the season watching someone else race my car.”
“Checo’s contract is up next year, maybe Red Bull will beg you to come back?”
Your laughter caught the attention of your boyfriends and they smiled at the sound before making their way over. “Yeah, that ain’t happening, they can beg all they want - I would rather be seatless.”
Max turned serious. “They saw your data, you know, when you used my sim. It was the best time anyone has pulled from the car. It was impressive as hell.”
“Well if you want personal driving lessons I am happy to assist. I’ll even give you a family discount.”
Max snickered in amusement as the seats opposite the bench were taken. “Now that you are once again unemployed.”
“Don’t let her mother hear you say that,” Lando warned, only half joking. “She’s not unemployed.”
“Yeah,” you placed a hand on your stomach. “I have the best job in the world now as a human incubator. Me and Vick can be ladies of leisure together.”
“She prefers the term influencer,” Max corrected sarcastically.
“What’s the difference?” Charles asked.
“There isn’t any. Now will you come and dance?”
You accepted Lando’s hand and followed him to the outdoor lights that had been turned on.
“Nutty!” Mila called as she ambled towards you with grabby hands. 
“So close, sweetie,” you laughed as you dropped Lando’s hand to pick her up. “Aunty. Aunt-tee.”
“Nutty is kind of accurate,” Max teased as he walked past to where Kelly was talking with Vicky. He did pause for a second as he watched you spin around with Mila and blow a raspberry onto her neck making the toddler giggle. “Zusje, you’re gonna be fine.” 
You looked up over the top of her curls that were only a few shades lighter than Lando’s and found sincerity in your brother's eyes. “Thanks, Max.”
A pair of arms encircled you and Charles’ chin came to rest on your shoulder. “My dance partner has been stolen.”
Lando spun past with Penelope in his arms and you kissed Charles’ cheek. “Mila, look at Dodo, he thinks he’s a better dancer than us.”
She narrowed her eyes at her uncle dancing with the four year old and her brows furrowed before she squirmed to be put down. “Oops, I think someone is a little jealous,” Charles chuckled, pulling you into his arms while you watched with amusement as she made Lando pick her up too. “Should we save him?”
“Nah, he’ll need to learn how to deal with two females soon enough.” You placed your head on Charles’ shoulder and followed his lead, swaying gently to the music that probably demanded more energy.
“You seem happier,” he commented softly.
“It’s amazing what a little sex in a secluded forest can do for the soul.”
Charles laughed and kissed your forehead, his smile etched on your skin. “Chérie, what we did could hardly be called ‘little’ but even afterwards you still weren’t…I don’t know what the word is…you seem more like yourself.”
You smiled a little as he stumbled over the words. “I’m getting there.”
“I know you will.” He gave up the pretence of dancing and just held you as Lando extracted himself from the girls and they ran off to their mothers before making his way to join you. “We will make sure of it.”
Lando’s warm body pressed against your back and his arms wrapped around you to hold Charles’ hips. “So I was thinking of names…Tulip.”
“Um, no.”
“Hear me out, it’s kind if Dutch and it’s a flower which is pretty cool-”
“Non, mon cher, keep thinking.”
“Daisy?”
You shook your head and he groaned as he was shut down again. “Daphne?”
It was your turn to groan. “No more Bridgerton for you.”
“Clover?”
You paused and his grin widened. “I’m not opposed to that one, but keep brainstorming.”
“How about Juniper?”
“Daddy, where does my name come from?” you asked in a higher pitched voice as you wrinkled your nose.”Well mummy drank lots and lots of Gin one night and that is how you were made.”
“Oh, right,” Lando laughed awkwardly. “I forgot it’s in Gin.”
“It is a good thing we have time,” Charles hummed, holding you both tighter. “There’s no rush finding the perfect name.”
Lando conceded for the moment and fell silent, and you felt content to stay cocooned until your stomach rumbled louder than the music. Your warmth disappeared as they stepped away laughing. “Come on, love. Dinner should be ready.”
Click here for the next part.
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shadesoflsk · 7 months
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LOVE, OR THE LACK THEREOF
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pairing: vendetta!leon x fem!reader.
summary: Leon and you have been divorced for a year now. It’s been one hell of a year between his missions and his new lover: alcohol. He thinks he’s doing just fine, after all you’re the one who’s missing out — or so he thinks. It’s until he has fallen ill that he realizes how lonely he is.
warnings: Kinda angsty, arguments, hurt/comfort, Leon is a bit mean but he gets better, mentions of being sick, vomiting wounds, scars, implied happy ending.
word count: 4k (dear god)
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Ragged breaths filled Leon’s dark room as he gasped for air. It all started with a simple headache which he ignored since it was just that, a headache. It wasn’t supposed to develop into something more because he is Leon S. Kennedy he just can’t fall ill. However, the way he stumbled into a wall was a sign of how sick he actually was. 
He cursed the wall, as if it was the one who got into Leon’s way. He felt weak, physically and emotionally. Physically because the pain he was feeling was almost unbearable. Besides the scars that adorned his back and abdomen he felt as if his insides were being split open — he blamed himself — not his missions, not the alcohol. He’s being weak, he’s being a crying baby, he’s being everything he despises in someone. 
And emotionally because he feels like shit. The alcohol has taken a toll on him. Before the divorce he used to drink now and then. Just on special occasions when his darling and him would go on dates. He loved wine — it made him feel so fancy and classy. He used to be like that. Now he’s just the shell of a man. But he doesn’t blame himself for that, he blames you. 
He knew he was being irrational, you did nothing but support him on every step he made. After both of you said “I do” you promised you would go through hell just to make him happy, you promised you would stick with him in good and bad, in sickness and in health. But no one prepared you for the time where he would push you away. You cried, begged and pleaded. You knew Leon had an habit of pushing away people he loved — but you were his wife, the woman he promised to love until the day where his blonde hair turned into a white color, where his stride would be replaced by a limping and unsteady walk proof of the years he has on his back. Yet, after 3 years he decided he had enough. 
“Enough of what?” You bawled with tears filling your eyes as Leon decided to turn on his back and avoid eye contact with you. You clenched your fists — you were never the violent type yet you wanted to hit a wall by the way Leon was throwing away 3 years of marriage. But no matter how much you tried, your question was responded with a dead silence. 
Why was Leon remembering all of this? Simple: because he realized how fucking lonely he was. Back when the two of you were married he used to pretend he was fine. “Baby, you have been coughing since morning.” you often said as you noticed how red Leon was from holding another cough. With a giggle, you would press your hand against his forehead. “A fever,” you added with a worried tone in your voice. Leon only scoffed, waving his hand in a dismissively way as if you were being dramatic. Yet, he never refused your treatments. For a few days you pampered your husband in a way only he knew. You dragged him to bed, made him swallow the pills he hated because they tasted funny. But you also were a nurturing lover — laying on bed next to him even when he protested that you were going to get sick too. “That just means you will have to take care of me,” you retorted with a warm laugh spooning him the way he loves it. Yes, the big and scary man loved being the smaller spoon.
With shaky hands he reached his cellphone. He knew it was a mistake on his part. He was breaking the promise he made to himself. He felt stupid, no, he was stupid. Pushing away the person he loved the most just for the “sake” of protecting you? Yeah, he was. But he wasn’t perfect, God how he wanted to feel like that yet he was flawed, weak and helpless without his rock, without his sunshine. But moreover, he felt selfish. After a year of being away and not even contacting you and suddenly wishing to hear your voice but to specially, see you. But if he was going to be selfish, he was going to be the most selfish person you’ve ever known.
Nonetheless, when he squinted his eyes in order to see the screen of his cellphone, he hesitated for a moment. As the light illuminated his features, bloodshot eyes, dark eyebags and dried tears around his cheeks he wondered what the hell he was going to say to you. “Hey this is your husb- no sorry your ex husband,” he couldn't say that for the love of God! 
By the time he gathered the courage to type your phone number, his head was almost exploding with pain. He pressed the call button as his forehead met with the cold countertop. Seeking something cold enough to cool down his increasing fever. 
The first few seconds were the most anxious moments he has experienced. He was being dramatic, of course. But the thought of hearing your voice, of hearing that sweet and tender melody of yours which made him melt almost instantly. He blamed the fever, of course. He's just calling because he needs help, nothing more.
“Hello?” You said through the other line, voice full of drowsiness and sleepiness since Leon didn't even notice what time it was when he called. He almost drops his phone when he hears your response — what is he supposed to say? As he's deep in thought, unaware of the fact that he has left you without a reply you spoke again “Hey listen. If you're drunk don't call me I don't want t–” 
“I'm not drunk…” Leon responded with a groan as another throbbing pain stabbed his head. He sounded similar as to when he's drunk, that he won't deny. 
“I don't believe that for a second.” Your voice was laced with exhaustion but now it wasn't due to the lack of sleep, it was because of him. No matter how much you try to forget him it seems that he comes back when you're getting better, when you think you're already getting over him.
It was pathetic, really. You didn't believe in soulmates yet you found yourself thinking if both of you were some kind of star crossed lovers. Right person wrong time type of relationship. But you reminded yourself that real life doesn't work like that. Some people just aren't lucky.
“I'm telling you the damn truth!” Leon's voice echoed through his empty living room leaving him speechless by the sudden outburst. He dug his fingernails into his palm as if distracting himself from the pain in his body and the fact that he just fucking screamed at his ex wife. He was met with dead silence and for a moment he thought he blew up the only opportunity he had to talk to you, but he could hear you, the faintest sound of your breathing made him aware that you haven't hung up. At least not yet.
“Look… I'm sorry.” His voice switched up from his sharp tone to a gentler and softer one. He was ashamed of himself but right now he wasn't in the right state of mind. His speech was slurred, proof of how bad the fever was affecting his body. “I–I'm not feeling well… physically well.” Leon's words stumbled into one another as he was explaining his situation. 
And that simple sentence was everything you needed to hear. Leon wouldn't just call you to tell you he's sick. You know him more than everyone else, you know him more than he knows himself. If only your inner voice could stop ringing alarms in your head; the rational part of yourself told you that you shouldn't go. He was your ex husband for a reason. He has all the money in the world to hire a highly-qualified nurse. But no nurse knows him like you do, at least that's what the emotional part of yourself keeps telling you.
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Besides the droplets falling against the windows, the ride to Leon's apartment was silent. The guilty feeling overwhelmed you as you made sure not to break any traffic law in your little trip. It took you barely a second to get your car keys as soon as you heard Leon throwing up in the middle of the phone call. A slurred waterfall of sorry sorry sorry were the last things you heard as you hopped on your car.
The ride was easy, knocking on his door was the real war here. It took you fifteen minutes to drive there and now you're having second thoughts. “Fucking hell…” you mutter under your breath as your fist knocks against the wooden door. You knock twice, as you usually did when you came back from work. When someone welcomed you with a big smile on his face. A minute passed and you got no response. You almost turned on your heel when the door suddenly opened. The scene developing in front of you made your heart ache. 
There he was – the man who once was the most important person in your life. Your missing piece, your other half. But now he was merely a percentage of what he used to be. His once smooth face was replaced by rough features that seemed only to show more as a growing stubble adorned his face. His once blond hair was now a dark shade of brown – you knew he hasn't had the best year of his life but Jesus he looks awful. Yet you can't help but feel how you still feel so much love for this same man.
For Leon, this is another story. His dizziness only seems to get worse by the second as he tries his best to keep balance. His eyes traveled from your eyes to your legs – not in a sexual way but as if trying to see if you had changed. But you haven't. And how dare you? Why haven't you changed? Leon's world has turned upside down since the divorce and you're here, looking like your old self. Again, he was being irrational and stupid. 
“Hey…” you gathered to say with an unsure voice. No one prepares you to face your ex husband. Especially when the simple sight of him makes you feel both like shit and in love. Loving him was like that. 
“You…” his raspy voice came out as a groan as his eyes remained locked on yours. You remember his baby blue eyes – full of love when he kept praising you. for the tiniest things. Now they're slightly hollow and with lack of life. “Please, come in.” Leon widens the door, gesturing for you to enter. It all felt so foreign, the last time you were alone with him was so different from this.
“Now do me a favor and shut up please! Your damn voice irritates me.” you remember how his voice had no traces of love and tenderness. He spat venom right in front of you, no matter how much your face contorted into a crying expression. You always took pride in standing up for yourself and being a fairly independent woman who takes no shit from anyone. However, your values seemed to crash as soon as the fights started. It all began with Leon drinking more and more. And as his addictions started, so did his insults.
You tried fixing him, really. A savior complex you may say. Nonetheless, loving him was never enough. And eventually, Leon made you a bitter person too. That was expected, really. You can't bend a branch without snapping it in half. 
Now, your plans for the night didn't include taking care of a sick Leon. As soon as you entered his apartment, he basically stumbled on his feet. You were quick to catch him – almost falling to the floor because no matter how rough he looked he was still 80% muscles. 
“Sorry…” he whispers as he tries to lean on your shoulder for support. As soon as his forehead touches your skin, you wince in discomfort.
“Leon, you're burning.” you state the obvious as you manage to make him sit on the couch. Your first thought was bringing him to bed but it would be difficult since your ex husband can't even stand up correctly. “How long have you felt like this?”
Leon groans in pain as he tries to remember. Everything is foggy but in his slurred speech, he answers you. “This morning… just a headache and then…this.” 
You sighed, not sure about what to do. You glanced at Leon who sprawled on the couch. Sweat beads fell from his forehead until they stopped on the junction of his neck and shoulder. You see something metallic shimmering in the dim light – you pay no mind for now.
“I'm going to damp a towel… you stay here,” you explained before excusing yourself and walked to the bathroom. There, the emotions came like a waterfall. Gripping the sink with your hands, tears fall from your face as soon as you are alone. You weren't strong enough for this, you weren't built for this. He used to call you sunshine because you were like the warmest sunlights bathing him. But he broke you until you were merely a cloudy and moody day. 
You remember every little thing, every memory and every wish that you shared with Leon. Your mind was playing dirty tricks on you – your worst enemy being yourself. You often wondered what life had in storage for you, as simple as it sounded you longed for simplicity, Leon did too. Wedding rings echoed through your foggy mind as it drifted back to the moment you first saw him standing at the altar. 
Neither of you were religious people, yet you decided to do a more symbolic type of wedding. You remember saying your vows and him saying his – he didn't keep his promises, though. As soon as his oh so called sins started to weigh heavily on his mind, he decided to take it all on you. 
“I don't know why I married you.” “You're so naive, you don't even know what the hell is happening outside of these four walls. Don't you?” Those phrases kept repeating in your consciousness as you damp the towel, quiet sobs escaping your lips as you tried your best to be silent. 
Eventually, you stepped out of the bathroom. Holding a damp towel with a bowl of water. Eyes locked on the floor to see anything but the sight of your ex husband quietly snoring and mumbling nonsenses. The fever was so high his body ultimately collapsed. 
You sat down next to him, brushing away some of his hair that was covering his sticky forehead. He looked peaceful, safely passed out in his dreams. You knew he was safe even though he was burning to the touch. Because as long as you're here, you will look after him. No matter how much he broke you.
You place the damp fabric over his forehead – a sigh of relief left his lips even when he was unconscious or so you thought. The dark filled room brought some sense of comfort to the both of you. Your hand on the fabric attempted to leave its place as Leon remained still yet as soon as you pulled your hand away, a weak but decisive grip caught your wrist.
Your eyes widen when you notice Leon grabbing your wrist oh so delicately. His breath was still ragged, proof of how much his weakened state has affected him. You wanted to break away from his grip, to pull away from him and tell him not to touch. You really wanted to. But did you do it? No. Instead, you decided to let him be. He’s had his fair share of battles throughout his life. His to carry and his to blame and to be blamed. You weren’t going to take away a simple touch. 
“Sorry…” He mumbles, his eyes trying his hardest to open yet he was still met with darkness surrounding him. The effect of medicine and booze was a cocktail and perfect recipe for almost killing him. But as he seeks forgiveness, you can’t help but wonder if there’s something else behind that word.
Was he saying sorry for suddenly grabbing your wrist as a puppy who doesn’t want his owner to leave him? Or was it for everything they had to go through? You don’t know and you don’t even want to know. Because if it’s the latter, you can’t know for certain if you’ll be strong enough to not crumble.
“It’s okay.” you responded back, an empty attempt at reassuring him. He was no fool, he was stupid for many things he has done. But he wasn’t so self absorbed as to not notice how nothing was okay. 
“No, It’s not okay…” Leon grumbled. “Look I’m really sorry for–” 
“For what, Leon?” You finally snapped, voice nearly breaking at the sight of Leon apologizing. “For leaving me alone without answers and wondering what the hell I did wrong?” Previous emotions dawned upon you as your lips trembled. At least the darkness will hide your tears. 
“For making me feel as if I was a failure in the relationship? For making me feel dumb since I couldn’t understand what you were going through? Guess what, Leon. You were right, I didn’t since you never told me shit!” He remained silent through your outburst which wasn’t really one. In his eyes, you were right – as much as he tried to keep blaming you, he couldn’t. As much as he tried thinking that he was the one who was better without you, reality came back and hit him like a truck. He wasn’t. He was miserable without his sunshine, without the person he trusted the most, without the wife he chose to spend the rest of his life with and promised to give her the life both of them wanted.
“Yes.” Leon stated, it seems that his previous weakened state faded away as your rambling continued. “Yes, for all the shit and fucked up things I made you go through. You never deserved it. You never deserved the way I treated you…” Leon’s eyes, as much to his own dismay, start to water. “You didn’t deserve throwing away 3 years of your life marrying a failure of a man such as myself –.” 
You didn't add anything else for the time being. Ironically enough, your hand stayed glued to the damp towel the whole time they argued. 
“Why…?” you asked the million dollar question. Why did Leon leave you? Why did you have to divorce? You could have faced everything, you had all the love in the world, as pathetic as it sounds. 
“Because I was fucking scared.” Leon exhales, his lips trembling a bit from his own fever. He closes his eyes trying to drown in the cool and refreshing sensation the wet fabric provided. “I–I lost so many people throughout my life… And I know that isn't an excuse but it can help you to – to understand my shitty behavior.”
Leon's necklace once again shimmered with the weak source of light that his living room had. He had his head thrown back, relying on your treatments to feel better. To feel something.
“I knew… that I could live without you knowing that you were alive. But I couldn't even fathom the idea of living without you because you died.” Leon finally let go of his own inhibitions and ego. And he sobbed like a baby. His whole body hurt like hell but his mind was aching even more with past memories of him pushing you away. 
Leon's face reflected everything he had to go through. Since that gruesome night of September until his whole unit dying in front of him. The internal battles he had to face all by himself because he indeed pushed away the only person who would sit down and comfort him after a difficult mission.
“There isn't a day that goes by where I don't miss you. I miss your morning face. I miss the way you would always ask me if I wanted dinner. I miss the way you looked at me as if I was the only man you could ever love.”
Leon was going to continue talking, but a coughing fit came into him as he tried his best to hold it back – he turned red, as he used to do back then when they were married. It brought you a soft smile seeing him trying not to interrupt his speech.
As Leon kept on denying himself to take a breath since it would lead to more cough coming out. Unconsciously you brought your free hand to his cheek. Your thumb grazing over one specific scar that he got ages ago. 
“Let's go to sleep, Leon.” you whisper as Leon finally exhaled. His own fatigue betrays his own desires to continue talking. He had so many things to say, so many sorrys to ask. So many kisses to give. Nonetheless, he silently curses his eyes as they close on their own.
Forgiveness doesn't come easily, especially after a year of grief and pain. You can't expect a kiss to make it all better but you can try. Both of you could see the light in this dark situation and let it shine upon you. 
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Morning comes and neither of you know how you ended up cuddling one another. That's a lie, though. You know that as soon as Leon's words came out of lips, his drowsiness did too. Heavy eyelids followed by yawns were proof of how much comfort he was feeling at the moment and he found a perfect excuse to be clingy. He was sick, after all. He could blame it on that.
You were the first one to wake up. Back's aching as hell while you groan in slight discomfort. But as soon as you try moving, a heavy weight on you stops you from doing anything else. Leon's whole body was on top of you. Sucking the air out of your lungs as his strong arms keep you trapped in his warm embrace.
You ponder between the options, dying between his arms while he keeps hugging you like his life depends on it or wake him up and tell him to move. The first one doesn't sound so bad.
However, life has other plans for you as Leon starts waking up. Groggy and disoriented, his eyes flutter open taking in his surroundings. That's when he sees you, practically under his weight as he uses you like a teddy bear. 
Leon's head slightly rose from the comfort he had found against your neck. His bloodshot eyes have turned back into his usual baby blue ones. 
“Morning…” you greeted as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. As if neither of you have slept together like a married couple. There are many things unsaid and they definitely needed to talk. But it can wait. For now, they just want to be in their little makeshift nest.
“Feeling better?” you asked with the softest of the smiles. Your hand pressed against his growing stubble. It traveled down to his neck as something metallic brushes your finger. With a soft tug, you discovered his own wedding band dangling from a silver chain. 
And you knew from that moment that your heart would always long for him.
“Never been better.” There he goes again, a glimpse of the Leon you've always known. A smug and flirty smile yet full of undivided love. You knew it wouldn't be easy. It won't be easy. 
But the way Leon smiles at you and by the way his lips seem to move on their own accord, make you want to try. It pushes you to help him again. Not changing him because as much as it hurts you – his pain is something he can't just let go. It's part of his identity. But he's the most stubborn man you've ever known. From his ashes, he would grow to be the best agent, the partner and the best husband the world has known. A second chance in life.
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bruh--wtf · 2 days
Text
Tutor for Time
Theodore Nott x gryffindor! reader
summary: Theo is terrible with his words, and reader already had some presumptions about him. So when Theo takes an opportunity to spend time with the reader it is their friend Pansy’s responsibility to fix both of their assumptions.
Warning: this is my first time writing for Theo so idk how good it is but lmk! <3
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You’d never actually spoken to Theodore Nott and you never planned on doing so. No matter how good of friends you were with Pansy, Blaise and Enzo, Theodore Nott was unapproachable.
“No, absolutely not.” Pansy frowns at you.
“He’s not actually that scary. He just has a resting bitch face.” You glare at her and shake your head.
“It’s not that. In fact, he’s quite handsome, it’s the fact that he notoriously hates anything having to do with Gryffindor. He’s also a notorious fuck boy, and seems to take extra pleasure in breaking the girls hearts in my house. I’ve heard to many stories to even think of asking him for help.” You shake your head and start reading the read annotations Snape had left all over your paper.
“He’s your best chance at passing.” You glare at her and glance over at Theodore again on the other side of the room. She was right, he did have a resting bitch face. He always looked like he hated everything, and his gray eyes were perpetually fixed in an expression of annoyed indifference. While his friends laughed around him, the only hint of emotion he showed was the slightest smirk.
So, yes, Theodore Nott was unapproachable. But also incredibly attractive. Which might have said more about you than him.
“I can ask him for you if you like. Or at least mention that you’re looking for a tutor,” Pansy offers, slightly more gentle than previously. You look at her again, chewing on the inside of your cheek. When you glance down at your paper covered in red marks again, you sigh.
“Yeah, alright,” you finally concede. Pansy grins and goes back to her work, unnervingly excited at your agreeing. And when you look up at Theodore again, you find him already looking between you and your friend. When he sees you looking his eyes seem to harden before he looks away.
Oh, he definitely hates you.
***
You finally walk into the library five minutes late, and Theodore is waiting for you at a table in the back corner. You have to take a deep breath before walking up to him and taking a seat across from him.
“Thanks for finally gracing me with your presence.” You blink at him. His accent is thicker somehow when he is speaking directly to you. You would think living surrounded by the English for the past five and a half years would have depleted the accent a bit, but it’s still very prominent.
“I got caught up with some friends. I’m only a few minutes late.” Theodore finally looks up at his books and his dead eyes meet yours.
“And that makes wasting my time alright?” You blink at him and have to bite your tongue to remind yourself that he is actually taking time out of his day to help you. So don’t be a complete bitch.
“No of course not. Sorry. Thank you for meeting me, though.” He just shrugs looking down again.
“Pansy wouldn’t leave me alone. I didn’t have much of a choice.” You clench your naw again and nod.
“Right.” Theodore jumped right into the reading after that. You had to scramble to get your book at, which he didn’t seem to care about in the slightest. By the time it was almost curfew, Theodore didn’t show the slightest sign of being any more tired than when you had sat down with him. You, on the other hand, had earned at least three kicks in the leg when your eyes would start drooping shut.
Finally, you found your out when Madame Pince yelled out that the library would close in ten minutes. You quickly sat up for the first time in over an hour and watched as Theodore just kept rambling on about the importance of some herb.
“Are we almost done?” You finally blurt out. That’s when he finally looks up again. He raises an eyebrow at you, not looking amused in the slightest.
“Do you understand more than you did the last time you got a question wrong?” You scowl at his response and deflate a little in your seat.
“The library closes soon.” He nods and snaps his book shut, making you jump a little at the sudden change.
“Perfect. Then I can have a break of your stupid answers until tomorrow.” You gawk at him. Once the words finally process in your head, you stand up, grabbing your things.
“Just because I have one sore subject doesn’t make me an idiot, Nott. I’m smart enough not to waste my time with an ass like you again.”
“Ouch.” His smirk and sarcastic tone makes you all the angrier, and you send a final glare his way before starting to walk off. “You need me to pass the next test on Thursday.” You turn around to see him gathering his things as if he hadn’t just said anything. For a moment you thought you’d imagined it.
“I can find someone else to help me. Someone who actually wants to and isn’t just here to be a condescending ass who likes to make me feel bad about myself,” you snap. Theodore looks over his shoulder at you and studies you for a moment.
“I admit my last comment was a bit harsh but I just spent the last five hours trying to teach you. Who else is going to do that?” He turns, leaning on the table as his arms cross over his chest. You pause for a moment. That almost sounded like regret from Theodore Nott. You didn’t think there was such a thing.
“Fred’s quite good at potions. I’m sure he’d help me.” Theodore raises an eyebrow.
“Weasley? Sure, he’d help you for ten minutes before distracting himself and you with something else.” You clench your jaw, sad to admit that he had a point. Neither Fred nor George were very academic and even when they were they were terrible at staying focused.
“Why do you want to help me? Is Pansy paying you or something?” Theodore shakes his head, turning back to grab his bag and sling it over his shoulder. He walks up to you, the ass having the gall to tower over you after everything else.
“No. She’s not, nor is anyone else. I’ll see you here same time tomorrow.” You blink at him, and he’s walking away. Unfortunately, he’s right. You will see him tomorrow.
And the next day.
And finally, on Thursday night, you’re staring at the review Theodore had created for the test the very next day with your head in your hands.
“How am I supposed to remember all this?” Theodore shrugs as he works on his own work across from you.
“The same way the rest of us do. You study.” You glare at him and kick his shin like he’d done to you so many times, which manages to earn you his attention.
“I’ve been studying. I’ve spent more time with you in here than I have in my own bed the last few days and I still feel like it’s all going to leave my head the second I leave.” Theodore tilts his head and studies you as you slouch back in your seat.
“What helps you remember when you’re here?” You bite the inside of your cheek. You know the answer and yet you hate to admit it to the boy. However, the truth was the truth. And that was that you had grown attached to Theodore’s praise. Well, about as close as he came to it. Whenever you were right, he’s award you with the smallest of smiles and a little nod. And if he was reading over your papers, you liked watching as his eyes skimmed the words and sometimes you could tell you were right when his head tilted down a little more to hide the smile you liked so much. He didn’t like admitting you were right despite being the reason for it.
Eventually, he gestured for an answer and you had to sigh. “You, I suppose,” you finally admit, neglecting to tell him why you like being right with him so much. Theodore seems to like that answer, though as he gives you one of those small smiles that are nothing like his usual smirk.
“Well, lucky for you I happen to be just across the room, incase you haven’t noticed.” You blink up at him. “So, you should be just fine.” You smile a little and tilt your head.
“Careful, Nott. I believe you just comforted a Gryffindor.” Your sarcasm doesn’t go unnoticed by Theodore. He smirks a little and his eyes go back down to his work and his quill.
“If I’m your good luck charm you could at least call me Theo.” His blatant ignoring of your comment still shocks you.
“Fine, then. Theo?” He lifts his head again and hums in response. “Why are you helping me?” He tilts his head in a way that reminds you of your friend’s cat when you hold catnip.
“Pansy gave me an excuse to sit with you and I took it.” Your brows scrunch together and it is your turn to tilt your head and his to study you. “We have mutual friends, and I never wanted them to be the reason that I got to be alone with you.”
He tilted his head back straight and you continued to stare at him. “Is that one of your lines?” He brings his hand up to rest his chin on. It’s the first time you’ve seen him lean on the table.
“What are you talking about?” You roll your eyes and wait for him to crack up but he doesn’t.
“You don’t like me, or anyone else that has anything to do with my House. Everyone knows that. And I’m not the idiot to fall for it.” He just stares for a moment before shaking his head.
“I’ve definitively had my fun, just like Mattheo, and definitely Enzo have. How does that make me a worse person than them?” Your throat runs dry and you can’t think of a good way to word your thoughts.
“I didn’t say you were… Enzo is terrible to girls and I am well aware of that. You’re not better or worse.” He rolls his eyes and starts gathering his papers.
“I’ve never told a girl I’d be hers and then not followed through. I’m always honest, unlike some of my friends who love false promises because they think it gets them better head. And it’s not my fault if girls think that just because I’ve been in their bed means suddenly I’ll want to go out with them.” You watch as he stands up, looking more annoyed than you have ever seen him. “Before you think about me being an ass again, maybe think that you only hear the side of delusional girls who have also fucked half of my friends. And I didn’t want to meet up with you to get into your pants I could’ve gotten that much easier from someone who tries much harder to get into mine.” He shoves his things in his bag and starts walking out of the library without so much as looking back at you, and your left staring at an empty chair trying to process the words of the boy you’d clearly hurt.
Pansy watches as you flop on her bed and continue to ramble about the weird conversation with Theo. She scoffs and rolls her eyes. “You’re an idiot.”
You shoot up. “What?”
She gives you an unamused look. “Yes, Theo fucks around. But who doesn’t? And he’s the nicest about it. He doesn’t give any false pretenses.” You frown as you cross your arms. “He’s never dated anyone, you know? He doesn’t like the idea of falling for someone. And he’s never lied to girls about that. Besides he’s liked the same girl since first year. He’s quite attached to her, though he’s probably never going to admit it.”
You sit up a little straighter, waiting for her to continue. “Theo… Theo’s been through a lot. He needs someone who will listen to him, really listen to him, because it’s rare he talks about his feelings at all.”
“Why don’t you date him then, if you know him so well?” She rolls her eyes and gives you that same blank stare.
“Like I said. He’s down bad for a girl he’s barely spoken to but watches almost every second of every day. And I like girls.” You smile a little at her though you do have an odd clench in your chest as you look down at your hands. “Are you seriously that oblivious?” You snap your eyes back up to hers.
“What?”
“Theo has liked you since first year, you idiot! And the one time I finally got him to talk to you, you tell him you think he’s an unemotional ass?” You are taken aback by Pansy’s snapping, yet find yourself thinking about the times you’ve caught him staring. Normally it’s with Pansy and you’ve always just assumed he was annoyed at her for being friends with you, but the more you think about it, you remember how it’s always happened. Even before you and Pansy were friends.
“Oh.”
Pansy rolls her eyes again. “Yeah. Oh.”
The next day you find yourself sitting next to Pansy taking the test you’d been cramming for all week with Theo. Midway through your hand is in your hair and you find yourself drifting off in your mind. It’s only when your eyes land on Theo do you remember how little time you have, and look back down at your paper.
A few times, you find yourself glancing up at Theo. Trying to remember the numerous questions he asked you and the answers you said in order to earn his soft smiles. At one point he looked over just as you did, and caught you staring. His brows knit together for a moment, and he glanced at the quill twirling in your hand. He gave you a small nod before looking down at his own test again, and you allowed yourself to do the same.
The next day when Snape handed back your papers you were shocked to find an E at the top of your paper. Exceeds Expectations.
You’d never gotten more than a Poor, or the one or two Acceptables. You stare at the paper and Pansy elbows you, finally drawing you out of your head. She nods at your paper and then toward the other side of the room where Theo was standing up and getting ready to leave. “Least you could do is say thank you,” she says before grabbing her own stuff and leaving.
Theo starts walking out alone seeing as Pansy had stolen Blaise and Mattheo hadn’t dawned the class with his presence that day. So you find yourself running after the tall boy alone in the corridor towards the slytherin dorms. “Nott!” He didn’t even flinch or acknowledge your presence so you call after him again. “Nott, come on!”
Finally you stop running and let out a breath. “Theo, please, just a minute?” This time he pauses and turns to face you.
“Will you stop yelling obnoxiously?” You smile a little and quickly walk up to him.
“Yes, in fact, I will.” You hold out the test for him, and he stares at you for a moment longer before taking it and assessing it. You see the small smile dawn his features and can’t help but smile a little wider as he tries to hide it. “I just wanted to thank you. For spending that time with me.”
“And being your good luck charm?” He looks back up at you and holds out the paper for you to take back. You do, but take a step closer to him as well.
“Yes, that too.” You chew on your lip for a moment before clearing your throat. “And I also need to apologize. I didn’t mean to make you upset the other day. I didn’t realize how bias I sounded until afterwards.” He clears his throat and looks anywhere but at you.
“Pansy talk to you?” You nod a little.
“Yes. But I’m glad she did.” He glances at you but doesn’t seem convinced. “And what Snape started talking about today already has me lost, so maybe you’d consider helping me again?”
His confusion is evident. “You want me to help you?” You nod a little and tilt your head.
“Does being alone with me sound that bad?” His jaw works for a moment, but you swear a small smile appears for a moment. “I’d like to spend some more time with you, if you’d like.”
“Careful, Y/L/N, it almost sounds like you want to hangout with a slytherin. And a fuck boy one at that.” You smile a little more and nod.
“When has that stopped me before? Enzo is much worse than you.” Theo smiles a little more again, and this time lets you see it.
“I’ll see you at the Black Lake tomorrow, the same time as usual.” You raise an eyebrow.
“The Black Lake?” Theo just nods and starts backing away.
“Yes, the library’s a bit stuffy. I’d never take someone I like there.” You can’t hide your surprise and Theo just waves you off. “Don’t act like I just proposed.” You laugh a little and shrug.
“Not yet but give me another week and I’ll have you on your knee.” Theo’s eyebrows raise and he smirks.
“We’ll see about that, love.”
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mo0nfairy · 1 year
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Bro when they remade the game of re4, Leon made me want to just....do anything for him. He's just- so- AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH.....You know? And thinking of him as a yandere made me giggle and kicking my feet
part 2. part 3. part 4.
tw :: yandere!leon, obsessive!leon, alcohol, kidnapping, drugging blood, being chained up, insinuations of suicide.
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⸺ ommgggg !!! i've been playing the game bit by bit in my free time and im actively going batshit over this man. so here are some of my thoughts……………….
you met leon during the events of RE2 in raccoon city. you ever heard of scary dog privilege? that was basically him with you the entire night. your personal bodyguard, your guard dog. he saved your life over and over and over again until you both practically lost count. however, once you both survived the night and the sun arose, you went your separate ways (much to his dismay). law enforcement and the government were attempting to track down survivors, due to their theories of them having links with umbrella. you had absolutely nothing to do with it, obvi. so, to avoid it all, you vanished. and for 6 long, insufferable years, leon has lived without you. countless therapy sessions, solace in alcohol, and numerous partners who didn’t last longer than a month, nothing could make him forget you.
now (knowing your luck), you just so happen to be one of the missing hikers the police officers speak of in the very beginning of RE4. you were taking a daily stroll through the woods to meditate before you were kidnapped and brought into the los iluminados cult. fortunately for you, you managed to evade being infected. however, you have still spent the last week in sheer misery. running from the village-folk, dodging hidden bear-traps, and scavenging for any crumbs you could consume. you can only dream of the shower you'd take after this nightmare, where you can scrub your skin of the grime, blood, and god knows whatever substances have stained your form. you did befriend a lone wolf, however, so that's a plus!
leon just so happens to be in the same area you're in, only with intentions of saving the president's daughter. he had hoped that by becoming a secret agent, he would be able to manipulate the provided resources and find you. before he knows it, leon soon wakes with a gasp, finding his hands above his head and his wrists chained together. he yanks the chain down, only to hear a quiet voice whisper "hey, quit it!" that voice. leon springs to his feet and turns to verify his suspicions, the sudden movement behind you scaring you into doing the same. he gasps your name in disbelief, before he falls into awed silence while staring at you in complete captivation. you have no fucking idea how much he missed you. all these years of searching for you, dread satiated through him at the possibility of you being dead. leon knows in his heart he would not have the strength to live if you had truly been gone forever. but now, there are no worries. the light of his entire life is alive and by his side! exactly where they belong.
on your end, however, was a complete different story. that night 6 years ago was now an entire blur. umbrella had managed to hunt you down mere days after the event, drugging you with a variety of different remedies. their efforts succeeded and had caused you to almost completely forget that night. your brain has only been able to scrutinize the blood, the death, and the groaning and screaming of undead figures around you. weekly visits with your therapist are helping you disinter forgotten pieces, but leon wasn't present in any of these newfound memories. so, when this stranger whispers your name into the air and stares at you as if you had just descended from heaven itself, you aren’t able to connect the dots.
a smile, one that could rival the sun, breaks out on the face of the mysterious blonde. tears brim in his honeyed gaze. "oh, god. you have no fucking idea how happy i am to finally see you!” holding his hands out, he takes several long strides towards you to engulf you, to where you take several steps away from him.
"who the fuck are you?" his world shatters, "how do you know me? are you the one behind this shit?" your eyes are full of confusion and uncertainty. a major contrast to the look of heroism and gratitude you gazed at him with ages ago.
without another breath, leon pulls the chain towards him, causing you to spring forward. your wrists are tied above your head and your feet are practically dangling off the floor. there are now mere inches in between you and this man. and the look of sheer horror on his face is unforgettable.
"look at me…” his eyes feel like bullets stinging into you, tears spilling down his cheeks. “it- it's me, angel! it’s leon! leon scott kennedy, i worked in the RPD that night 6 years ago.” his breath hits your face as he desperately recounts the worst night of your life. “y/n, i saved your life. and you saved mine. don't you remember?"
leon’s hand cups your face, skin hovering over yours, almost as if he were afraid to fully touch you. his face scrunches up from the sobs racking through his body.
“don’t you know how much i still love you?”
you finally have the revelation that whoever this 'leon scott kennedy' is was with you that night in raccoon city. you also conclude that you are most definitely not getting away from him so easily.
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n e ways.... i went wayyyy to overboard with this, but like i said, i've been having some THOUGHTS about re4 and our golden boy. also some other characters too, hehe…………
if you'd like to see more, pls don't be afraid to send some asks in !!
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imaginespazzi · 2 months
Text
Part 5: One Perfect Day
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Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 6 - Part 7
Let me photograph you in this light (in case it is the last time that we might be exactly like we were)
(In which a procrastinating writer procrastinates giving her ship happiness)
Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd
Themes: Angst, Pining, Some Fluff
Words: 7.5K
TW: Swearing, Alcohol, Alludes to Sexual Content
A/N: Good evening my lovelies <3. As many of you have reminded me it is indeed Friday and so here we are, nobody needs to yell at me! I know I'm years too late with this but I hope y'all like it anyways, even though this is very much mainly hurt with very little comfort. But for things to get better, they have to get worse and remember, it's all for the plot! There's plenty of creative liberty taken this chapter with how hotels and post-championship celebrations work and other logistics but I wrote it how I needed to so just go with it. Did I edit? Yes. Are there typos and errors anyway? Probably. As always, tell me what you liked, what you disliked and what you'd like to see next. Have a wonderful weekend lovelies!!
March 2019 
The final buzzer echoes through the Williams Arena, and the disappointment of the last couple of years is finally drowned out as the Hopkins Royals win the state championship. Surrounded by the cheers of her teammates, Paige doesn’t know if she’d call this the happiest moment of her life, the stomach flu symptoms haven’t quite faded yet, but she knows it’s definitely on her mount rushmore of times when life was great. 
For a second, as she’d been crouched over the toilet with Azzi’s hands soothingly rubbing her back, feeling her soul leave with the remnants of last night's dinner, Paige had almost lost hope. But she’d never been taught to give up without a fight. And so it hadn’t mattered that she definitely looked a little green or that standing up was taking twice the energy it normally did, Paige was going to play today. It hadn’t been a flashy scoring night but she’d done everything else her team needed. And as that lead had built and built and built, Paige knew, the moment was still hers. 
“Paigeyyyyy,” Drew is the first one to find her after her and her teammates break apart, launching his tiny body into her legs, “you won!”
Paige laughs, lifting her brother into her arms and spinning him around, “I told you I was gonna didn’t I?”
One by one, her whole family, the epitome of a modern family, pull her into hugs and then they gather into one large group hug, with Paige at the centre of it all. Her siblings look at her with pure admiration while her parent’s eyes are filled with pride. And it fulfils that part of Paige that has always lived a little more for her family than for herself. 
As her family moves away slowly, Paige finds herself face to face with Azzi’s shining smile and her heart skips a beat. And she doesn’t really know when it started or even how really, but it gets a little more difficult every time she sees Azzi, for Paige to convince herself that that fluttering in her chest is nothing. 
“You look a little pale white girl,” Azzi teases, taking a couple of steps towards the blonde, “glad you didn’t vomit all over the floor.”
“Nah no bullshit flu is stopping Paige Bueckers. The flu is scared of me,” Paige juts out her chest with a smirk, earning her a patented eye roll from the younger girl. 
“Oh yeah, you’re real scary,” Azzi indulges before pulling Paige into a bone-crushing hug, “I’m proud of you P.”
Paige smiles into the crook of Azzi’s neck, basking in the glow of the compliment. It’s these little moments they have in between their constant banter, where they let themselves be each other’s biggest cheerleaders, that makes them Paige and Azzi. They pull away, still grinning. and Paige’s eyes roam over the Team Paige jersey framing Azzi’s body. It makes her feel some type of way to see the younger girl wearing her name across her chest, but it’s not a feeling Paige is quite ready to accept. Perhaps it’s been written in their destiny that someday things will change, that eventually they’ll both have to confront the something more that’s simmering underneath it all, but for now, Paige just wants to protect what they already have. 
“That’s a pretty jersey,” she says with a wink, fingers rushing over the soft material. 
“I was forced at gunpoint to wear it,” Azzi sighs dramatically, “I was actually cheering for Stillwater. Their pg’s kinda cute.”
Paige bristles at the comment, the queasiness from this morning returning with vengeance, “she’s mid as hell on and off the court.”
“Don’t be petty Paige. You think she’d let me wear her jersey instead?” 
“You know what,” Paige fights a losing battle with the quick surge of anger that’s taking birth in her stomach, “how about you take off my winner’s jersey and go to the loser’s locker room and beg for her jersey instead.”
She knows Azzi’s joking, knows the point guard on the other team isn’t even really Azzi’s type, knows that even if Azzi’s being serious, Paige doesn’t have a right to feel this way. But that green eyed monster is clawing at her heart, squeezing it and making it hard to breathe. 
“Oh- hey hey hey,” Azzi’s quick to grab at her when Paige tries to storm off, “chill dude. You know I’m just kidding.”
“Well it wasn’t funny,” Paige pouts, aware that she’s being unnecessarily childish. 
Azzi opens her mouth, about to make some smartass quip but there must be something about how genuinely frustrated Paige looks that softens her expression, “I came to watch you P. I have no idea what that other girl was doing. I was cheering for you the whole time.”
“You’re so sappy,” Paige snorts, throwing a handful of confetti at Azzi, but inside, the ice cold jealousy melts into something warm and lovely, spreading through her heart into her veins. 
“Can’t even say nice shit without you being a dick about it,” Azzi rolls her eyes, as she links her arms through Paige’s,  “now come on, let’s go celebrate you.”
***
It’s almost 2 a.m. when Paige’s teammates finally begin to filter out of her house, leaving with droopy eyes and tired smiles. She and Azzi stand in the doorway, waving goodbye to every last one of them and it feels a little domestic, like a couple after a dinner party. Paige shakes that thought away the minute it begins to form, forcing herself to ignore the burst of wouldn’t that be lovely that blooms in her chest.
“What if I just fell asleep here?” Paige sags against the doorframe. 
“You’d probably fall flat on your face and I’d get an epic video of it.”
“You’re so fucking mean to me.”
“Oh yeah right because you’re so nice to me.”
“Am to,” Paige retorts, before she makes grabby hands towards Azzi, “carry me?”
Azzi swats her hands away, “Absolutely not lazy, it’s one flight of stairs.”
“That’s like 20 steps,” Paige whines. To be honest, she’s not that tired. Out of the two of them, she’s probably closer to being a night owl. But Paige is nothing if not a little bit of nuisance, especially when it comes to Azzi. 
“Are you an athlete or not,” Azzi chides, rolling her eyes. 
“Bro I just won a championship AND I had the flu. And you won’t even carry me? What kind of best friend are you?”
“Paige.”
“Azziiiiii.”
“Paige I’m tired.”
“Pleeeeeaseeee.”
The younger girl sighs, a sign of her caving in, before turning around so her back is facing Paige's front, “fine, get on you big baby.”
“YES-”
“Dude shut up, you’re gonna wake everybody up,” Azzi groans, always the responsible one. 
“Sorry, sorry,” Paige whispers as she jumps onto Azzi’s back, the force of it causing the brunette to take a couple steps forward, “fucking hell Azzi don’t drop me.”
Azzi lets out an indignant squawk, as she regains her balance,  “with that attitude, I should drop you.”
“If you’re too weak to carry me, just say that,” Paige teases, wrapping her legs firmly around Azzi’s torso.  She buries her shit-eating grin in her best friend’s neck, as she loops her arms around Azzi’s shoulders.
“It is not my fault you’ve put on like a hundred pounds since I last saw you.”
Azzi squeals when Paige pinches at her ribcage and the blonde immediately slaps a hand on her best friend’s mouth, “what happened to being quiet? Now, onwards horsey- OW! Did you just fucking bite my hand!?”
“What happened to being quiet?” Azzi mocks, adjusting Paige’s weight on her back as she begins to walk towards the staircase, grumbling something under her breath about ‘ungrateful best friends’ but Paige knows she doesn’t mean a word of it. She snuggles further into Azzi’s neck, letting herself breathe in the scent of the younger girl. 
When Azzi had first left Minnesota, after they’d spent every second since the plane ride back from Argentina, Paige had thought that that hollowness in her chest was temporary, that it would fade once she got back into daily life. It didn’t. And the thing is the word miss had existed in Paige’s dictionary before too but she doesn’t think she really understood what it meant til she started to miss Azzi. 
As soon as they reach Paige’s bedroom, Azzi’s already swatting Paige off her back. The blonde falls back onto the pillows on her bed with a content sigh, watching with a cheeky grin as Azzi pretends to stretch out the muscles on her back and her arms.
“I think that might have broke my fucking back,” the younger girl groan, face scrunching up in mock exhaustion, “and I have to sit on a plane again tomorrow.”
That wipes the smile straight off Paige's face. It’s so easy to get lost in the moment with Azzi, so easy to forget that they spend less time together than they do apart. They haven’t bothered with the actual lights but even in the dim glow of the moon through Paige’s windows, Azzi sees her best friend’s change in expression clearly, her own face becoming melancholic. Sighing, she climbs onto the bed herself and lies down next to Paige, intertwining her hands with the older girl’s. 
“You could stay a little longer,” Paige says after a moment, eyes resolutely focused on the ceiling. 
Azzi let out a wistful sigh, “I wish. But you know I can’t.”
“You can, you just won’t, little miss goody-two-shoes,” the light-hearted teasing eases some of the mood as they both let out soft giggles. They dissolve into a comfortable silence before, “I can’t wait til we’re playing for UConn together.”
Paige misses the way Azzi stiffens a little next to her, too enthralled with imagining a future where she and her best friend could conquer the world together. She knows Azzi, with all her indecisive tendencies, hasn’t quite come around to being anywhere near ready to pick a college team yet but Paige still has time to convince her and Paige Bueckers is nothing if not persuasive. 
“So it’s definitely UConn then?” 
“Yeah. I mean it’s UConn dude. The UConn. They’re the best. All these other programs are nice but when UConn calls, you don’t say no to that shit,” and Paige means that with all her heart. As the number one recruit in her class, there had been no shortage of offers and of course Paige had entertained them for a little while. But the minute Geno Auriemma had given his offer, everything else had become obsolete. She hadn’t committed yet, still maintaining a façade of being in the decision stage, but all of that was just a front. Paige knows she’s meant to be a UConn husky, there’s no way around it. 
“I think you’ll make a pretty damn good Husky,” Azzi says with a soft smile, as she absentmindedly plays with Paige’s fingers. 
“We’ll make damn good Huskies,” Paige affirms. 
“I don’t know P, California’s pretty tempting,” it’s said teasingly but a hint of seriousness slips through the cracks anyway. 
Paige scoffs, “cause it’s hot? Bruh that much heat would be boring. Connecticut gets all four seasons. We’d get the heat and the snow.”
“I get all of that in Virginia already,” Azzi points out with a huff, “maybe I want something different.”
“You do get something different. You get to play with me. That’s different.”
“Yeah but-”
“Dude why are you fighting me on this? Do you not want to be on the same team as me or something?” Paige asks agitatedly, suddenly feeling frustrated with the turn the conversation had taken. 
“Okay breathe,” Azzi gives her a stern side-eye, “I was just saying California’s nice. Of course I want to be on your team. Did the shirt not make that obvious?”
Involuntarily, Paige has to smile at the memory of Azzi’s jersey, the team Paige that had been loudly imprinted across her chest, “right, sorry got a little carried away. I just always want you on my team, you know?”
“I’m always on Team Paige. I always have been. I always will be,” Azzi says firmly, as if it’s the most obvious truth in the world.  
When Paige turns her head to look at her best friend, the younger girl is already looking back at her and the sincerity in Azzi’s eyes makes Paige’s heart stutter. The moon shines against Azzi’s face and Paige swears she can see every little detail in the dim light. And the thing is Paige has always known Azzi’s a pretty girl, she’s not blind. But it’s different tonight. Tonight Azzi’s the kind of beautiful that Paige wants to memorise until it’s imprinted in the back of her eyelids, the kind of beautiful that she wants to lock away in a treasure chest and preserve only for her own eyes to ever see again. The kind of beautiful that Paige knows she isn’t allowed to think of Azzi as. But still, right now, Azzi’s the kind of beautiful that makes Paige want to try and see if maybe, just maybe, there’s the possibility for something more. 
That night, when she finally falls asleep to the sound of her best friend’s quiet breathing, Paige dreams of UConn and championships and at the end of it all, kissing Azzi under the confetti. 
***
April 2024
There’s 14 seconds left in the National Championship game and UConn is ahead by eight points. Adrenaline courses through Paige’s veins as that one elusive dream of hers seems to finally be coming closer and closer to fruition. Winning a National Championship had been on her mind since she’d first picked up a basketball. The minute she’d committed to UConn, it had felt inevitable and yet year after year, her team had fallen just a little short. But this afternoon, it seems like it’s finally within grasp. 14 seconds to go. 14 steps closer to having her perfect moment. 
Except, every time Paige had imagined this moment, she’d expected her best friend to be there. In the beginning, before everything, she’d dreamed of them being on the court together, running into each other’s arms the minute the buzzer sounded. And then, until the last second today before she had to take the court, Paige had just assumed that when she’d look in the stands, somewhere in the crowd, there’d be the one face she wanted to see most in the world. But no matter how much she squinted, that face had been nowhere to be found and Paige had forced herself to compartmentalise her disappointment, and focus on the game. She hadn’t looked at the crowd since. 
The ball is in the other team’s hands, their point guard, diligently calling out plays before she inbounds it. Coach’s words echo in Paige’s head, try for a clean steal but don’t under any circumstances foul. Their pg inbounds the ball and the shot clock starts to count down. The ball bounces through the hands of different players on the other team but the UConn defence is stifling. Their coach is out of timeouts and it isn’t until the last millisecond that they heave up a prayer shot. And it doesn’t matter if it goes in, it’s a two point possession game, but Paige’s eyes are glued on the basketball anyways. 
The shot is an airball. The buzzer sounds through the arena. UConn wins their 12th national championship. 
For a second, everything goes silent around Paige. The normally over-excitable girl, known for her insane golden retriever energy, is perfectly still. It takes a couple more seconds for the adrenaline to hit. And then she’s screaming, pummeling her body into the rest of her teammates as the bleed blue crowd goes wild. She loses herself in the noise of her teammates cheering and the bright lights of cameras flashing nearby. They did it. And it doesn’t erase just how fucking hard the last couple of year had been, but it makes the burden significantly lighter. 
Paige rushes through the handshake line, the opposing team’s coach giving her an appreciative review of her performance before she’s recaptured into a group hug by her teammates. It’s a surreal feeling really, one that’s far better than even her most wonderful dreams. For the first time since the game began, Paige lets her gaze wander over to the family section who are all tearfully hugging, smiling at her parents and then her siblings and then- 
When her eyes meet Azzi’s, it’s like the last piece of the puzzle has finally settled into its rightful place, completing the perfect picture of Paige’s perfect moment. A #5 UConn jersey hangs loosely against Azzi’s hips as she smiles shyly at her best friend. And Paige is scared to blink, scared if she looks away, the girl in front of her will disappear. It takes everything in her to not rush into the stands, pull her best friend into her and kiss her under the confetti. 
Azzi doesn’t budge when the rest of the family and friends crew start to move towards the court. There’s too much attention, too much media, for that to be a feasible option. Paige wishes they would all just disappear, let her have her moment the exact way she’d pictured it. She thinks she’d like to fulfil that dream of hers, kiss Azzi in the confetti, twirl her around, and between it all, let the world know that she was Paige’s. 
As always, Drew is the first person to reach her. He’s a little too big for her to pick up, but she spins him around anyway. 
“You won Paigey,” her little brother squeals and he might be older now, but that innocent admiration of his older sister is as palpable as always, “I knew you could do it!”
“Thanks for always believing in me, little dude,” Paige says softly, leaning her cheek against the top of Drew’s head.
Over the top of her brother's head, Paige realises with sudden panic that Azzi’s not there anymore. Dread filters into her bloodstream, the voices in her head screaming it was too good to be true. The way her body tenses doesn’t go unnoticed by her mother who’s quick to hold her. 
“She said to tell you she’d see you at the hotel later,” Amy Jo says with a knowing smile, before letting Paige’s body sag into hers. She rubs her daughter’s back as relief settles into the younger girl's features, “proud of you Paigey.”
Paige smiles into her mother’s chest. Last year had been the hardest of her life and for a while the light at the end of the tunnel had been hard to see. Today, she feels the light surrounding her, washing away all the darkness from the last few years, bathing her in the glow of happiness. 
***
“I always knew you’d look good in a UConn jersey.”
Azzi’s eyes fly open and Paige smirks, leaning her body against the wall. The last couple of hours had been a whirlwind of media, champagne and excited chatter about what the after party would be like. Paige’s focus had been on celebrating, but the thought of getting back to Azzi had been a constantly lingering presence in the back of her mind. And as the bus had gotten closer to the hotel, anxiety had creeped in because what if Azzi wasn’t there? What if she’d changed her mind? 
Paige had smiled for the fans outside the hotel, diligently posing for pictures and signing autographs, ignoring the heaviness in heart. But as soon as she was far away from prying eyes, she was bolting towards her room. And then everything was okay. Paige has heard a lot of cliché things about love, about how it makes you hear violins and see stars and all of that, about how it increases your heart rate and makes you flush. But Paige thinks all of that can’t quite be right. Because when she’d seen Azzi, curled up in her sheets, #5 jersey crumpled but still fitted around her body, Paige had only felt a sense of calm. And that Paige thinks, is probably the actual truth of love, it’s about finding peace and to Paige, Azzi has always been her peace. 
“I’d look great in any jersey,” Azzi claps back groggily, moving to sit up. 
“But you look the best in mine. You always have,” Paige tries to keep her voice teasing, but it comes out sounding rather wistful, and the next words are even softer, “you came.”
Azzi bites her lips, looking down at her fiddling thumbs, “you asked me to.”
Those four little words carve themselves into a little crevice in Paige’s heart as if they’ll stay there forever, as if they’ll echo through her entire body for the rest of time. She practically throws herself onto the younger girl, the force of it pushing Azzi back down into the pillows, as she buries her head in the crook of Azzi’s neck. Their legs slot together of their own accord and it’s a little bit like they’re trying to meld into each other’s skin the way they press themselves as close as possible, til there’s barely space for air in between them. They lie like that for god knows how long; it goes by in a rush and yet ever so slowly. 
“I’m really fucking happy you’re here,” Paige whispers into Azzi’s skin, “really fucking happy.”
Azzi doesn’t say anything, humming into Paige’s hair as she tightens her grip on the blonde’s waist but Paige can tell by the way she stiffens underneath her, that Azzi’s holding herself back from something. Her heart hammers in her chest as she lifts her face from Azzi’s neck to inspect the younger girl’s face. 
“What aren’t you saying to me Az?” she whispers quietly with a sinking feeling.
“Paige,” Azzi closes her eyes. And just that is enough for Paige to understand exactly what’s going through her best friend’s head and suddenly she wishes she’d never asked, just let them have this moment. 
“Never mind, I don't want to hear it.”
“That’s not how that works. I- I wanted to wait a little but we- we need to talk.”
“No we don’t,” Paige retorts stubbornly, fighting the tears threatening to spill, “I don’t want to.”
“Paige-”
The girl in question pushes herself off of Azzi, rising to sit on her knees, “this is meant to be the best day of my life Azzi.”
“I know- I’m sorr-”
“What game are you playing, Azzi? Why even fucking come if you were never gonna stay?” Paige spits out. 
“Maybe I shouldn’t have,” Azzi says softly, as she sits up “maybe- maybe I should have stayed away. But it’s you Paige, it’s you and I- I’ve never been that good at staying away from you. And maybe I’m just really selfish but I- I told you once that I wanted to be there when your dreams came true and so- here I am.”
They’d barely known each other when Azzi had said that, when they had just been young innocent girls with a tentative friendship, lying in the grass and sharing their dreams. Back then, the words had thrown Paige off. She hadn’t quite understood why they had meant that much to her, why they had filled her with more warmth than the sun shining above them. But she’d tucked them away in a little corner of her heart hoping she’d understand it better when she was older. She’s older now and she understands. Except every single emotion she’d felt at fifteen is heightened with the realisation that the words had meant something to Azzi too. And-
Paige surges forward to kiss Azzi. She’s pretty sure this bipolar act of theirs will be the death of them someday but it’s the only thing in the moment that makes sense. Azzi is hesitant at first, clearly too in her head, always the overthinker, but she gives in when Paige squeezes at her waist. It’s not as if they’ve kissed that many times before but it feels familiar, a little bit like coming home. She moves to straddle Azzi’s hips and they can’t get any closer really with every bit of their bodies pressed together now, but Paige tries anyways, tries to etch please don’t leave me into the other girl’s skin. And she isn’t sure if the salt she can taste is from the tears steadily streaming from Azzi’s eyes or the ones free-falling from her own. 
The minute Azzi pulls away, Paige misses her. 
“We can’t-”
“Don’t finish that sentence,” Paige cuts Azzi off immediately, resting her forehead against the younger girl’s, “please.”
“Paige,” Azzi breathes out, “I have to go.”
“No you don’t,” Paige says stubbornly. 
“Paige please-”
“Stay- fuck please- Azzi- just give me tonight. Tomorrow we can talk and you can-,” Paige swallows, not wanting to say leave out loud, “but please- tonight can we just pretend? Can you give me that? Fuck- can I just have tonight? Please- just- stay.”
Azzi lets out a shaky breath, “it won’t make it hurt less.”
“I know- fuck- I know but I just don’t want it to hurt right now.”
“Okay,” Azzi whispers slowly, thumb caressing Paige’s wet eyelashes, “okay, I’ll stay tonight.”
Paige kisses her again. 
***
The UConn team falls in love with Azzi in a matter of hours. No one had been shocked when Paige had shown up to the after party a.k.a everybody gathering at the hotel bar, fashionably late and with a nervous Azzi teetering behind her. It had been awkward at first; everyone was a little unsure of how to act around the new presence. Not only was Azzi from a rival team, but everyone was at least a little aware of her tumultuous relationship with their star player. But then KK had wanted to film a tiktok that needed someone to do random camerawork and when everybody else had groaned, Azzi had quietly volunteered. Much to KK’s delight, Azzi turned out to be quite the cameraman. And that apparently was all that was needed and Paige marvels at the way Azzi just fits.
She moves around Paige’s team as if they’re just as much hers. One second she’s timing some stupid drinking game that KK and Ice are playing, the next she’s sitting in a corner laughing with a more subdued Ash and Q. 
Aubrey and Ayanna gush over their girlfriend and Azzi’s coos over their pictures, a hint of wistfulness on her face when she meets Paige’s eyes. 
The team does their routine of teasing Aaliyah’s about being vegetarian and Azzi diligently backs the Canadian up with a spiel of how tofu isn’t actually that bad. That gets her a hi-5 from Aaliyah despite the eye rolls from the rest of the team. 
Despite being a little tipsy from having been dragged into doing shots with Amari and Carol, the two other people she knows pretty well, Azzi diligently lets Inés and Jana teach her little bits of Portuguese and Egyptian. 
Even Nika sheds her frostiness, amused by Azzi’s curiosity to learn her native language beyond just the curse words, and teaches the younger girl a couple of words. Azzi rolls her eyes fondly when she realises she’s been taught to say UConn is the best team ever in Croatian and amidst Nika’s laughter, Paige knows is a hidden acceptance. 
But the best part of it is that although Azzi’s suddenly being pulled in all different directions by various UConn girls, she never really leaves Paige’s side through it all. There’s always a little bit of them touching, whether it’s their shoulders or their knees, even when they’re both involved in completely different conversations and activities. It feels oddly domestic and Paige is reminded of the part after her state championship all over again. The burst of i want this forever that stirs in her chest makes her want to sob because it collides head first against a wall of this is only for tonight. And Paige knows that one night won’t ever be enough for her. 
“Aye Paige’s girl, come play truth or shots with,” KK’s loud voice breaks through Paige’s cloud of distress and it’s eclipsed by the implication of those two words. 
Paige’s girl. The phrases makes itself home in Paige’s heart, sounding so fucking right. She hasn’t let herself acknowledge it truly ever but that’s how it’s always been in Paige’s mind. It’s how she’s always thought of Azzi. As hers. Her Azzi. Her girl. 
“I’m not-that’s not-” Azzi’s cheeks are tinted pink as she stutters through her words, withering under KK’s cocked eyebrow. 
“Uh-okay if you say so,” KK rolls her eyes, holding her hands up in a sarcastic defensive position, “guess we’re starting off truth or shots by lying.”
The rest of the team laughs as Azzi’s blush grows even deeper and Paige can’t even try and hide her smile, her own neck tingling a little bit as she tucks herself into Azzi’s side. And it’s not real, they’re not anything, but in this moment it feels a little bit like they’re everything. 
“You guys are sickening,” Ice accuses when she notices the two of them cheesily smiling at each other, “it makes me gag.”
“They’re cute. Leave them alone,” Caroline chastises, ever the supportive friend. 
Azzi leans back against Paige’s arm as the group goes around the circle, asking each other ridiculous questions, cheering like little kids when their teammates opts to drink instead of answering a vaguely invasive question. When it’s her turn, Paige can already tell by the glint in KK’s eyes that her menace mini-me is about to cause trouble. 
“Paigey cakes, when’s the last time you had sex?”
Next to her, Paige can feel Azzi stiffen immediately. The shot feels heavy in Paige’s hand as she seriously contemplates taking it. She knows why KK asked the question, probably having concocted some idea of exposing Paige and Azzi. She’d known by the waggling eyebrows that the whole team had thought the two of them were late because they’d been fucking but that couldn’t be further from the bitter truth. 
Paige chances a look at Azzi’s face as she bites down on her lips. The younger girl’s face is stoically devoid of any emotion and Paige knows she’s thinking about the night of the crash (or as Paige likes to call it, the most terrifying night of her life) except- 
“November, last year,” Paige says slowly and Azzi whips her face around to look at her, lips falling apart in shock. 
“Don’t play, there’s no fucking way,” Ice guffaws and Paige shrugs. 
“It’s the truth.”
“Bruh what the fuck,” KK looks a little shell-shocked, “how the fuck did you survive that long?”
“Some of us actually know what to do with our own fingers,” Paige quips defensively, trying to ignore the butterflies dancing in her stomach at the way Azzi’s still looking at her. 
“I bet Azzi knows all about your fingers huh Azzi?” and even that, KK’s unhinged commentary, isn’t enough to get Azzi to pull her gaze away from Paige. It’s almost as if she hadn’t heard it all. 
“You didn’t- that night?” Azzi manages to get out. 
“Couldn’t do it,” Paige mumbles, “she wasn’t you.”
Despite the horde of people around them, they’re in their own little bubble now. There are a multitude of questions swimming in Azzi’s eyes and Paige wants to answer all of them if it means that maybe just maybe, she could prevent the inevitable misery tomorrow would bring. 
“Okay Azzi, it’s your turn,” Amari’s voice draws Azzi’s attention away and Paige feels cold without the heat of it. She doesn’t know how she’ll survive tomorrow. Living in the present isn’t working and Paige finds herself already feeling the emptiness she knows will become her reality in a couple of hours. Her fingers tap an incessant pattern on her thigh as she tries to keep her focus on the game, 
Azzi swallows nervously before mustering up a grin with false confidence, “I’m ready. Hit me with your best, I’m not drinking.”
“We’ll see about that,” KK smirks, diabolically rubbing her hands together, before she turns to Nika, “all yours Nik-Nik.”
The other girls “ooh”, knowing  Nika’s reputation for being notoriously good at this game. The Croatian grins at Azzi, as she sits up from where she’d been lazily lying on the love seat, a glint of mischief in her eyes. And then her eyes meet the forlorn ones of her twin and something shifts. When she looks back at Azzi, there’s a more serious look on Nika’s face. 
“Have you ever been in love?”
There’s pin drop silence once the gravity of the question registers. The light-hearted air in the room is replaced with anticipation, as all of Paige’s teammates look back and forth between their point guard and her best friend. Paige isn’t sure if she wants to know the answer, doesn’t know if there’s an answer that wouldn’t break her heart just a little bit. For a second, it looks like Azzi’s going to drink until she puts the shot down on her hand rest until- 
“Yes,” she confesses in a whisper, and Paige feels her heart begin to race, “I have.”
“How many times?” Nika prods
“That’s not how the game works. I already answered your question.”
“Different rules for newcomers,” Nika shrugs. It’s a blatant lie but nobody says anything. Paige is still caught up in her own head and the other girls won't challenge Nika, not when they’re just as curious, “I get to ask questions til you drink.”
Azzi narrows her eyes, knowing it’s all bullshit and maybe if she wasn’t a little bit tipsy and competitive, maybe if she couldn’t feel every inch of Paige’s side pressed against her, she’d walk away but she can’t. 
“Only once,” she answers. 
“With your ex-girlfriend?” Nika asks. The way she raises an eyebrow suggests there’s only one right answer to the question. Paige doesn’t know if there’s a right or wrong answer, only that there’s an answer that would shatter her. 
“No. I was never in love with her,” Azzi directs the answer towards Nika, but everyone knows it’s meant for Paige’s ears. And despite the tornado still roaring in her body, the blonde lets out a sigh of relief. 
Nika’s intimidating demeanour cracks a little bit when that answer makes her smile, “are you in love with someone right now?”
Even if it’s not said out loud, the implication of Nika’s question, the someone, is clear. And suddenly Paige doesn’t want to hear the answer, not right now, not when they’re both a little tipsy, not when they’re surrounded by all her teammates, not when their future is so unclear. 
“Drink,” Paige cuts in, holding the shot in front of Azzi, “don’t answer it.”
“Paige-”
“Drink Azzi,” Paige says firmly. 
Azzi looks equal parts relieved and frustrated as she downs the drink, happy to have gotten out of the uncomfortable round of questioning but a little annoyed at losing in front of the UConn girls. 
“And you said you wouldn’t drink,” Nika sneers, as she hi-5’s her teammates. 
“Because you bent the rules; she did great,” Paige defends immediately and everyone snickers, the mood in the room returning to something more casual.
“So fucking pussywhipped,” Ice teases. 
“Shut up,” Paige whines, hiding her face against Azzi’s shoulder as everybody else laughs. If the voices in head screaming this is just for tonight would shut up for a second, Paige thinks maybe she could fall in love with this moment, surrounded by her found family. 
It’s almost 3 am when the team decides maybe they should start going to bed, knowing they have a morning flight back to Connecticut. Everyone else is still in a jovial mood, sufficiently drunk of both alcohol and the high of a championship but Paige’s stomach pools with dread. Every minute is a step closer to a goodbye, she’ll never be prepared to say. 
They get to the lobby of the hotel when Paige turns to Azzi, ignoring her anxiety to be a nuisance instead. 
“No,” Azzi says immediately when she sees Paige making grabby hands at her, “there’s literally an elevator Paige.”
“So? That just makes it easier for you. This is tradition.”
“In what world is this a tradition?” Azzi sighs exasperatedly. 
“Since I won the state championship,” Paige grins, “pleeeeease, I’m tired, my feet hurt.”
Azzi gives her an unimpressed look, “you’ve been sitting for the last couple of hours.”
“And before that I was winning a championship, after beating your team by the way,” Paige’s smirk widens when Azzi guffaws at catching a stray. 
“Oh fuck off. Reminding me of that is not the way to get me to carry you by the way.”
“C’mon Az, you know you’re gonna give in anyway. You know you wanna sleep, stop wasting time.”
Azzi rolls her eyes with a dramatic sight before doing exactly what she always does, giving into Paige, “hop on then you big baby.”
Paige cheers, latching on Azzi’s back as her knees circle around the other girl’s waist. Unlike when they were younger, Azzi’s doesn’t stumble anymore at the additional weight. She’s stronger now, completely solid and steady underneath Paige and that absolutely doesn’t trigger any inappropriate thoughts in the older girl’s brains, absolutely. 
“Y’all are so cringe,” KK crinkles up her face when she turns to look at them as they wait for the elevator, but there’s a certain amount of fondness in her voice, “but Azzi’s cool. Much cooler than you P boogers. You should bring her around more often.”
Paige’s smile vanishes in tandem with Azzi letting out a strangled noise. KK looks between the two of them, slowly realising maybe she’d just put her foot in her mouth. 
“Yeah, maybe,” Paige answers noncommittally, trying to keep her voice steady. 
Much to her relief, the elevator dings open, saving her from having to say anything more. She wraps her arms tighter around Azzi, burying her face as far into the other girl’s neck as she can and closing her eyes, trying to lose herself in Azzi, instead of in the jail of her own mind.
She doesn’t look up from where she’s nestled into Azzi’s skin, when the rest of her teammates start towards their own separate rooms, telling Azzi how lovely it was to meet her. 
“Can you get off her back, so I can give her a hug?” Ice pinches Paige’s arm but the older girl just shrugs her off. 
“No. Go hug someone else.”
“Bro you’re so fucking annoying,” Ice groans and Azzi sends her an apologetic wink but it doesn’t go unnoticed that she doesn’t try to shake Paige off like she normally would. It heals something in Paige to know that Azzi doesn’t want to let go either. And she doesn’t understand why they’re doing this, why they’re fighting this, when neither of them want to. 
“I think your teammates might like me better than you,” Azzi teases when they finally get back to the room and Paige climbs off of her back. The blonde is too lost in her thoughts to come back with a smart quip. And of course her best friend notices it immediately, nudging her quietly, “P? You good?”
Paige blinks up at Azzi, and even before she says the word, she knows Azzi’s already read them in her eyes, “I don’t want you to go.”
“Paige,” Azzi sighs tiredly, “what happened to pretending tonight?”
“Fuck pretending,” Paige blames the alcohol for how loud her voice comes out, guilty only because it makes the girl in front of her flinch, “I don’t want just tonight. It’s no where near fucking enough. I want forever. With you.”
“That’s not- Paige- we live on different sides of the country.”
“For now, but we can make it work. It’s us,” Paige pleads desperately. 
Azzi scoffs, stepping away from Paige, “you say that like it a good thing.”
“What-”
“Us! We don’t- it’s not- being ‘us’ is not a good thing Paige. May us from before but us now? Us now is complicated and messy and hard and I just- I can’t do this Paige.”
“You can- we can- Azzi- just- think about it okay- sleep on it- you’ll see. You’ll see, I’m right.”
Azzi shakes her head, closing her eyes as a single teardrop leaks out, “you’re making this so fucking hard Paige.”
“I don’t want to- I’m sorry- I’m so sorry baby,” the term of endearment slips through Paige’s lips before she can catch it, “but I need you to think about it once please.”
She moves to cup Azzi’s cheeks, thumb caressing away the tears, “please.”
“Okay, okay,” Azzi nods, resting her forehead against Paige’s, “I’ll think about it.”
They’re quiet as they get changed for bed, thinking about the same thing. Co-existing together comes naturally to them after years of inhabiting each other’s space and the. there's no getting in each other’s way, even if they’re both dead silent. It’s awkward when they finally get into bed, both of them lying on their back, resolutely staring up at the ceiling. Paige is the first one to move, turning onto her side so she can face Azzi. The moon shines against Azzi’s face and Paige thinks that so much has changed, but Azzi’s still that kind of beautiful, the same kind of beautiful Paige had thought of her as since the state championship. 
“What was your answer going to be,” she asks quietly. 
“To what?”
“To Nika’s question. Are you in love with someone right now?”
Azzi hesitates a little bit, before turning her own body to face Paige, “you know the answer Paige, you don’t need me to say it.”
Paige doesn’t prod, knowing they were too volatile for her to keep pushing. Instead she reaches over to intertwine their hands together. 
“Do you know what my answer would have been?”
“Yeah,” Azzi says softly, squeezing her hands, “yeah I do.”
Maybe there’s peace in knowing. Or maybe there’s only more pain. Paige doesn’t know if the truth sets her free, doesn’t know if she could ever even be set free from the shackles that bind her to Azzi, doesn’t think she even wants to be set free. But at least Azzi knows too. Maybe there’s peace in drowning together. 
***
Paige wakes up in a panic when she reaches over and finds the other side of the bed empty. She gets up with a jolt, eyes frantically searching for Azzi, until they finally land on the girl sitting on the couch next to the bed. 
“Fuck,” Paige’s voice is still wracked with sleep, “I thought you left.”
“That’s more your style,” Azzi says and Paige flinches at the reminder, “how’d you sleep?”
“Pretty good. How about you?”
“Pretty shit actually” Azzi admits, “I woke up every two seconds, scared you’d be gone.”
“Az-”
“You asked me to believe in you- to believe in us and I-” Azzi draws in a sharp breath and Paige knows she’s not going to like where this is going, “I want to- I really, really, wish I could. But I don’t. I can’t- I can’t be with you Paige- not when I’m scared you’re going to break my heart every second.”
“Azzi,” Paige scrambles across the bed, stopping when the girl in question holds her hands up. Everything in her feels like it’s on fire. There are no burn marks on her skin but she swears she’s been turned to ashes underneath. 
“And you deserve better than that too Paige. You deserve someone who- who’s not scared. Who can give you all of herself without- without holding back and I- I can’t do that.”
“You can- fuck- Azzi you can- please,” desperation leaks through every syllable as Paige fights what she knows is a losing battle. 
“Not right now. Too much has happened between us and we can’t- we can’t just ignore all of that and start something new- maybe someday- but not right now.”
Azzi stands up from her seat, hesitantly walking over to Paige’s side of the bed. She cups Paige’s face, watery dark brown eyes meeting crystal blue ones that are glistening with tears. 
“Azzi please,” Paige begs, feeling everything slip away before she’d even had a chance to fight for it. 
Azzi presses her lips to Paige’s forehead, holding them there for what feels like the briefest of seconds until she’s pulling away, “I’m sorry P.”
And then she’s gone and every part of Paige’s heart is gone with her. 
208 notes · View notes
the-froschamethyst4 · 2 months
Text
Their Career Change After the Military
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COD Men Headcanons
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König
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Househusband
He was tired all the time after coming back from the Military so he picked up on being a househusband and doing all the chores around the house while his s/o goes to work
It started out as making lunches for you
Then hand delivering them to you before lunch
He also started to fix things around the house he told you not to call someone for because he could look it up and do it himself free of charge
Hates messes now. He started to develop this thing where he hates messes no matter what it was. It wasn’t OCD, but he hates when he cleans something and thing a few seconds later gets dirty again
Cleans…that’s all he does when he’s bored
Hardly sits, he only sits if he needs a break from whatever he’s doing
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Ghost
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Police officer
He misses how he use to help in the military so picked up an application and filled it out to be an officer
He guards around the royal palace to keep those stupid and annoying tourists in line when touching the royal palaces horses at the gates
His voice starts to slowly become more deeper over the years from telling pedestrians to leave the horses alone
Of course they listened to man holding a gun, not like he was ever going to use it, it was just to make myself look scary
Honestly hates working in the cold or rain but does it for his job
Gets shy when his s/o comes around to have lunch with him. He waits till he is relieved from duty to go eat with his partner
He loves seeing his s/o come around in cute outfits he knows that he will fold to
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Price
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Office manager
Loves wearing the suits to get a rouse from his s/o
Loves it when his s/o visits him in the office just to drop something off he forgot at home or just to have lunch together
Got the job because he knew some people that could help get this job after he retired from the military
His desk at his work his boring with a small framed picture of his s/o sitting next to his pc
He doesn’t go to the office parties, he’d rather stay home with his s/o and not have to worry about them, he deals with them long enough at work he doesn’t need to be there for after hours
Doesn’t have a “work wife/husband” because he’s married
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Soap
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Mechanic
Took the job because he liked fixing cars
He was a personal mechanic to a race car driver for some time but quit to open his own shop
Makes a lot
He fixes his s/o car for free
Has his personal project with a Porsche 911 GT3 that he does drag races in
His personal car has nothing special but maybe a loud exhaust pipe
Takes time in his work, if it’s something bad like a busted engine he’s going to take his time not rush the process just to get the car out of his shop. If it takes a month it’s going to take a month
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Alejandro
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Stock Broker
He didn’t want the job at first knowing it’s probably boring but when his friend bragged about the almost 3 million dollars sitting in his pocket
Took the job and makes close to 5 million
It’s a love hate relationship type of job. Hates it because of the people he works with, loves it because he gets to spend his money on his s/o
His s/o meets him for lunch dates
Doesn’t go to work parties
He does pull the late night hours coming close to 3 in the morning but doesn’t have to go to work till 11
He likes trying on new suits he bought to show them off to his s/o to see their opinion on his suits
Alejandro’s desk is full of random papers from other co-workers and from customers
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Gaz
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Works from home
He starts working from home. He was able to find a job he could work from home from and can go in once a month
Gaz was able to find a job as a I.T. Guy, when Gaz was younger he messed around with coding and helping people with new technology, so he figured this would be good for him
He’s stuck in front of a computer 6 hours a day, but then the rest of his time is with his partner
He loves the view he has from his home office being able to overlook the city as he worked from home and his s/o bring him lunch and snacks every so often
Gaz loves the idea that he can wear whatever he wants to his job and no one will know
Gaz sometimes loses his mind when he has to deal with an elderly who could barely remember their password, there has been many times Gaz would have to remind them that he doesn’t know their passwords
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Alex
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Picks up the hobby of gardening
He lowkey didn’t think he’d enjoy gardening
He thought it was boring till he grew his first strawberry bush with success and no rotten fruit
He started to make the garden bigger and then made a greenhouse for flowers and succulents
Started to sell fruit and vegetables at the local farmers market
Doesn’t make a whole lot and that’s fine with him. What he does make he spends on his garden or his s/o
His s/o also jumps in to help him with the garden
Starts asking his ol’ buddies if they were interested in some of the stuff he grew
The next thing now is he wants chickens to sell their eggs
277 notes · View notes
momotorin · 2 months
Text
no risk, no return
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f1 driver!momo x f1 driver! reader au — fluff, angst if you squint
[keji sent a note!]: first of all, i've been in such a writing slump and this fic helped me to get out of it! i'm sorry if it took really long!!! here it is <3 ++ this is a series btw! @saiidahyunie here it is pookie i hope u have a blast reading it 🙏
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for most of her life, momo has only known what it feels like to win. born to one of the wealthiest families in japan, it's like opportunities come falling to her lap even if she didn't ask for it. but, there's one thing she pursued.
it's the thrilling, blazing speed of having to be in closed circuits— going around and around until you're flying, getting ahead of everyone else. it's a lavish, fun, and insanely challenging lifestyle.
momo thinks that she's everlasting in facing every single golden trophy that comes her way, and she'll do anything to take it.
for you, winning was a privilege. it was always something that not only you worked on.
you started racing because your dad enrolled you into a free session, and totally fell in love with karting. many years and sacrifices pass, but still, you're in love with the speed and the feeling of flying on the ground.
every golden medal and trophy is earned by you, the people who helped you and everyone else.
you'd do everything to win, as momo does too.
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on one rainy f2 race, it was either a hit or miss, and one move equates to a life.
“we can't continue this,” momo arugues, standing up.” “spa has been a killer, even when dry. do you want your lives to be at risk?”
you scoffed, “why, afraid to lose your points, hirai?” you looked at her and everyone agreed.
this was racing, and you know there were risks. with the advancement of technology in these fast cars, risks were lessened, and you're now confident that you could still fight. you just can't back down after being so competitive, fighting for the championship. if anything else, why the hell would hirai momo scour away from this?
“look,” momo sighs. “i just want safety. we all know it's not safe-”
you stood up now, looking at her with a fire in your eyes. “then go to the damn back of the grid if you wanna play safe?”
momo steps closer to you, looking at you straight into the eyes. “if you die tomorrow, i don't mind if you're head is flying off because of me. got it?”
you smiled, sinister and scary. “of course, hirai. my head would say hi and fall onto your lap, too.”
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“you guys are so damn funny.” sana laughs after you've woken up from your coma. she's been your number one friend since diapers, and this sport was one of the things she pulled you in with her. sana was the extrovert friend who always said hi to everyone else for you, and you couldn't take her more.
you sighed in defeat as momo was right. after the rise at eau rouge, and a blind spot, even blinder when raining at the turn in radillion; you were too busy that your attention shifted to the upcoming car that wanted to take over your position in that corner, that you missed the turn, and only you came to a huge spin, hitting the wall at almost 250 km/h. it was a miracle that you were still alive.
you know that the person in that upcoming car was pushing you to the limits, rightfully so in this sport, but you hope they know it isn't their fault. if anything, it was yours.
“momo won, by the way.” sana reminds as she fixes your blanket.
you scoffed, “yeah, right, of course she'd win.”
“all of this wouldn't happen if you just,” sana makes her hands into like two lips, making it kiss and showing you a demonstration. “you know…”
“sana,” you whined. “even over my dead body. no. never.”
sana laughed, “you'll eat your words someday, y/n.”
you dismissed as you rolled your eyes, “and i won’t be full of it because i’ll eat none.”
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[breaking] carrera scaglietti’s world champion, hirai momo moves to jyp shinhan racing team for the 2024 season.
your eyebrows creased into the middle of your forehead, your attention shifting away from the data after you've read the news. momo was through and through red, loud, powerful, rich— very much like the italian scaglietti team. why the hell would she choose to go to jyp?
“oh, that's crazy,” hyunnie takes a peek at your phone, very amused at what is happening. “maybe she fought with her teammate?” hyunnie wonders.
“i doubt,” you sarcastically say. there's a high chance that momo had a dispute with her teammate. but you doubt, her teammate was minatozaki sana, she could literally turn anyone her teammate if she wanted to. “but it's momo, so we never know.”
“right,” hyunnie just agrees with the statement, and proceeds reading the data of the wind tunnel for the new car. you two were checking data in the factory for the new season. “don't you think it's a bit stuck up in the middle?” hyunnie points out at the monitor, seeing the air flow ruin the aerodynamics. it was important for the development of the car, and you're glad that hyunnie was reliable to point it out.
after the first stream of the air through the front wing, it doesn't continue to flow the same to the front wheels, making it scattered which results in it being slower.
“soobin!” you call onto your lead engineer loudly, and he comes running with a couple of coffees in hand. “look, it's not going up the wheel,” both you and hyunnie pointed. “that's gonna cost at least a tenth of a second in the straights.”
“yeah, yeah,” soobin kindly hands your coffee and nods. “better front wheel wing, and a smoother air inlet to have a great slipstream.” he suggests, sitting down on his desktop and setting a new creation into reality. “hey, y/n, have you seen the news?”
hyunnie laughs, “trust me, y/n’s the first person who saw it.”
“really,” soobin condescends, still concentrating on his work. “you know, you'd see her a lot this season.”
“i know, don't worry,” you laughed. “i'm ready for it. it'll be a breeze beating her.”
[breaking] f2 champion y/n to gochiya skyline after being offered a 5 year contract.
“i thought she'll be in vantage?” momo sighs under her breath. they were in the middle of a break from a team photoshoot for the new season. momo throws her head back in a deep disappointment that can be felt across the room.
jihyo greets with a smile, both of their helmets in her hand. “what's that, champ?”
“news,” momo blatantly answered, shutting her phone down. “and just news.”
“i think i know,” jihyo says, having that little amused smile on her face. “it's y/n moving to a different team, no?”
momo just nods. she can't believe that this woman knew exactly what she was thinking.
jihyo chuckles, “well, it's nice to know that we have someone on the grid who can put up a fight.”
jihyo’s not wrong. momo dominated the last season, nearly winning all 24 races. 5 were won by her previous teammate, minatozaki sana, and 2 were won by jihyo in jyp shinhan.
well, it was no shocker to her after your coma, you'd make it to f1. as she said to herself, you were a champion, just like her. you fight like hell with your car, and you in this cup isn't any different.
but, in racing, there's only going to be a sole winner, although three people share the podium— there's always the sole, shining golden first place, and she can't give that up for you.
jihyo tapped momo's shoulder as the photographers came and called her. “c’mon, i think they need us back.”
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the next thing you know is that you're already starting the season. after long hours of development in the factory, it's finally set to be used in bahrain. this was nothing like your previous tiers of racing before, and it's something you've only seen from the surface level, but now that you're in it, you can't help but feel a little nervous.
it was a thursday, and the pit lane was full of people from the media. you spot your best friend from just a few meters from you, talking to her old teammate. from that scene alone, you know that momo's reason for leaving the scaglietti isn't a teammate thing.
“hey.” you greet sana as momo leaves to be interviewed by a sports channel.
“you look constipated,” sana holds down your shoulders, looking you in the eye, worried about your state of health. “you okay?”
“it's hot, dude,” you said, panting. “uh, anyw-”
“sana,” you saw momo come back from the interview, and she was already taking sana by the wrist. “let's go.”
“give me a minute,” you dismissed her, your palm outward to let her know that you were still talking to your best friend. “i’ll let you have her after we talk, okay?”
momo yanks at sana's arm in disapproval, making your best friend wince, “no, what the hell-”
sana was already angry at this point, her eyebrows meeting in the middle. “oh, come on!” she sighs. “okay, y/n, what is it.”
you smiled in confidence, “hyunnie invited the whole grid to a party tonight. well, as she calls it a party, but it's not the club type of thing, though. one last before the actual testing, you know, just to get everyone familiar with each other.”
momo stares and scoffs under her breath, “like we aren't tired of each other enough.”
“you have a choice in declining, though!” you smiled at sana, but you said it loudly that momo hears. “and yeah, drinks are on her, sana. you don't have to worry about that.”
“that's nice,” sana smiles. “um, i’ll get going now with grumpy pants number two here. i’ll catch up with you later, hm?”
“yeah, yeah.” you waved at sana, winking at her. “i’ll just text you the location!”
momo fakes gagging on her own spit at your reaction, “gross.”
“nah, you like it,” sana nudges at her as they walk back to their teams. “why the hell do you pretend to hate each other?”
“sana, you know i can’t pretend,” momo sighs. “if you're still convinced that we have some sexual tension going on… maybe you're blind i don't know, get your eyes checked.”
“you can pretend, i’ll give you that.” sana laughs, patting momo on the back. “but you're not too good at lying, are you?”
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the rookies all got on for the media interview for the day, which included you, and chou tzuyu, the newest addition of carrera scaglietti. you two were the newest addition to the grid, and you know tzuyu well that you know she could compete with you.
“um, hello y/n, hello tzuyu,” the reporter flashes a smile to the both of you, anticipating their question. “the grid has made some pretty solid adjustments following the data made from the practices. as two fairly experienced drivers, do you think that you have a shot at winning at least a grand prix for the year?”
“oh, that's,” tzuyu then smiles, finding the question to be quite expectant of their performance. “it's not impossible, but it will be really hard. as you said, the adjustments for the cars are huge. it will be very competitive, and we will race. but you also have to be a little considerate on the part that we've only been to f1 testing at least twice in our f2 careers, and tested just now, so it's a bit of a mix for us getting used to the feel of the car first, then winning.”
“exactly,” you follow. “although i think i've been through more testing than tzuyu, we're now driving in a completely different car from our teams. i don't wanna brag about the experiences that i have, sorry, tzuyu,” you comfortably tap her arm as you slightly bow with your head, showing your apologies for the little arrogant move. “but, it's pretty fair to say that i can and will compete. i can say that our car is competitive, and from the data, it could catch up to last year's scaglietti’s top speed. so, we're definitely putting up a fight.”
“thank you y/n, and thank you tzuyu,” the reporter smiles once more. “can i have a little request from the both of you to say something for the rest of the guys on the grid?”
tzuyu raises her hands in happiness and says, “let's all have some fun!”
“cute,” you cooed, but then, your face went serious afterwards. “there's no turning back for us now. no risk, no return, and i hope you know i'm fighting for the same thing you're fighting for. let's race!”
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the party was a quiet one, with only most of the women in the grid attending. it was held at a small speakeasy at a hotel, and hyunnie rented it all for the night. pretty impressive, as she was, well, quite occupied with your best friend.
you're left to mingle with a couple of guys from the other teams, saying and wishing well that you have a good time, clinking margheritas.
“hey,” mina, another gem from lagonda vantage, smiles as she makes her way to sit beside you on the bar table. “thank god you're here.”
you looked around to spot her teammate, “kazuha didn't come?”
“she's more of a…” mina then takes a sip of her wine. “couch potato.”
you nodded, understanding the preference of the real rookie, although you know that her teammate was your teammate last few years ago. “well, that's unavoidable,” you laughed, also taking a sip of your own drink. “um, how's everything in vantage?”
“same old, same old green car livery,” mina dismisses. “how's everything at skyline?”
“a whole lot of testing,” you exclaimed and sighed. “a whole lot more than vantage in f2. i'm so shocked to see them make me run a lap just because they read something wrong.”
“you don't get babied there anymore, aww,” mina cooed in sarcasm. “anyways, i know that the car is definitely in deep shit right now for us, so, it's good that you moved there.”
“hey, don't say that,” you deny. “but then, i don't think it's time for me to be a champion yet.”
“it's not you who'd determine that, though, stupid,” mina lightly budges at your arm. “it's the race that does, and you know damn well that you're beating the race even if it means to put a carbon fibre part in your skull.”
“i think everyone does,” you sigh, looking blankly at your drink. “we're not here for a good time. we're here simply to win.”
“jesus,” mina scoffed. “look, i'm doing all of these as a hobby. i’ve only seen a few people be like this with racing, and there's only two of them. you and momo. always talking about the same shit— i'm here to win. you think the same even if you don't get along and that kinda scares me.”
“what…?” you then stared blankly at her as she just nodded at affirmation.
“can i get a sazerac, please? and can you please add a little bit more of the lemon zest? thank you!” you heard a familiar voice order from your back, and mina just full on smiled at you.
mina just tapped your shoulder as she stood up with her drink, off to someone else, “there's your answer.”
you looked down at your own drink. it was a sazerac with a little bit more lemon zest. you think it's a good way to lessen the strongness of the bitters and the cognac.
“oh,” momo sighs deeply, knowing that you were beside her. “good evening, y/n.”
trying to be civil and playing it safe? “good evening too, hirai.” you reply with a smile as you take a sip of your drink. you saw the bartender finally completing hers and you watched her take a sip.
“look,” momo looks directly into your eyes— showing you the littlest, slightest scowl, but her ears tell a different story. it was beet red that you were a tiny bit afraid that all her blood was pumping only in that one part of her body. “i'm not trying to be friends, but,” momo sighs deeply, once more. “i hate being in front of newspapers and these people tell me that i have a bad attitude.”
you scoffed and took a sip of your drink, “what does that have to do with me?”
momo deeply sighs, completely facing you now. “you're the new shining thing. you have all the spotlight from all the media people, and you have their eyes, ears— literally everything locked on you the moment you're on track.”
“do i have to repeat that again, hirai?” you then looked at her once more, half scowling at her at this point. “what does that have to do with me?
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momo thought about it until she tucked herself to her hotel bed. she doesn't know anymore.
she doesn't know if she'd feel guilty for treating you badly since that karting race when you were twelve, impeding her advancements to the scaglietti driver program that you rejected, that one overtake in the japan f4 cup, that one crash in f3, and your crash in f2. she has a list in her mind on how she hates and grieves your presence on how she was literally formed because you were beating her.
you sure know how to create warfare in momo's head. she couldn't sleep well that night.
“jesus fucking christ,” you tucked your pillows between both sides of your ear, trying not to hear the noises coming out of your teammate and bestfriend's room. “please stop, my god …”
more sounds came out of the other side, trying to make you uncomfortable in your bed.
the only way is to get out, so you went out of your room, still hearing them in the hallway until you reached the elevator.
you sighed, finally escaping from the noises and you pressed the button to the cool, high place, the top of the hotel. it was nice, windy, and the greenery spread all around, making you calm.
you went and took a rest on one of the padded benches, closing your head eyes but not fully sleeping.
you thought of how momo approached you, surprisingly a little friendlier, like she's really willing for a change. you really were no stranger to change, as you've been recreating and dying for yourself to create another version of you for another day, for other people to fit their needs and preferences.
you think about how adorable momo was when you were younger, karting— her hair held up by sanrio hair clips before she gets on her helmet, and she stomps after getting at the podium for a second place. you know she absolutely hates losing, but that's exactly why she hates you. you're the reminder of her loss, her guilt, and her dissatisfaction in everything.
you sighed as you took a look at the countless stars of the night sky, wishing that you two just grew together normally. like how you and sana did. momo was a constant in every step of your career too, she did well with sana, but how come that she didn't even spare her meaningful conversations with you? how come she can't share her victories with you? how come she didn't want to be in the same space with you yet continued to reach for her dream?
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the next day was qualifying day, and you got up extra early. you savoured on your iced latte while reading some data gathered from the practices yesterday. then you suggested changes from your highlighted, printed out, tabbed fia rulebook (1, because you're a damn nerd; 2, you don't wanna break the rules; 3, you needed to beat their ass if ever they charge you for something ridiculous. it's better to be safe than sorry.)
the moment you changed into your race suit after a couple of interviews, you saw daehyun already suited up right in front of the garage, talking with her twin sister, dahyun.
“good morning guys,” you said to both of them from behind. they were watching the first few guys try out the track for practice already. “oh, good thing that you are both wearing your suits, or else i would have trouble telling you apart.”
“i'm taller though,” hyunnie mentions. “dahyun's a teeny tiny bit smaller.”
“shut up,” dahyun laughs. “anyways, goodluck to you two today,” dahyun gently pats her sister's shoulder and yours. she looks at you, “especially you, rookie.”
you smiled widely, “thanks.” you watched as dahyun waved goodbye before coming back to her team's garage. the integra team, where dahyun is at, is known for their humility and strength— and you're just so shocked at how dahyun contains all of it.
“how come you two don't fight?” you asked hyunnie as you went inside the garage.
“hm,” hyunnie smiles. “we fight only on track because we're sportspeople. not at home, not at parties, not at the dinner table since we're siblings and friends. the only time we got in a big fight was when dahyun crashed our father's car and drove crazy drunk.”
“people,” you repeat. “yeah…”
“you're blanking out, dude,” daehyun laughs, handing you over your gloves by hitting it playfully on your chest. “you go first, team orders.”
“ah, why,” you whined, removing the case of your helmet. “you go first, i was sleep deprived because of you!”
hyunnies eyes went wider, “what.”
“i’ll tell you later.” you teasingly showed her your tongue out then you put on your blue balaclava to cover your face, then your helmet.
you then went inside the car, and started it with the help of the crew getting your steering wheel. they checked everything from breaks, to temperature, to speed, to limits, to literally everything before they gave you the go signal to be on the track for testing.
a couple of teams had already completed their own session, and you were told that you could be sharing the track with scaglietti as they had 2 more laps left. there was no problem as the pace between this car and scaglietti was impressive, as your race engineer said through the radio that you'd gain a whole second after several laps.
“5 laps for you,” lewis, your amazing race engineer, says on the radio. “5 laps for you, y/n. pace increase in the first lap. pit lane exit cleared.”
“i understand, lewis,” you said at the radio, exiting the pitlane safely, starting your lap. “what's the fastest one here?”
“scaglietti's 1:31:23,” lewis clarifies as you make a turn. “it's set by chou.”
“great,” you chuckled, although lewis couldn't hear that on his end clearly as you were driving through your first sector. “what's my expected fastest?”
“1:29,” he says. “the car can push up to 1:29, y/n.”
“that's on medium tyres, right?” you clarified, as you know that on simulator, the car could run way more than 1:29, and it is on soft tires when you tried it out.
“we tested with kim last night and she said that her best lap time is 1:29 on mediums,” lewis says. “tyre degradation is minimal for the first sector, expect the tyres to be warmer on lap 2.”
you were already at the last turn of the first lap, and you throttle fully on the straight. you were focused in getting that 1:29, but the radio breaks out and says, “hirai from jyp is going to share the track with you for your last two laps,” lewis says. “hirai is going to share the track with you.”
“oh hell no,” you sighed under your breath, not even caring if your voice was heard through the radio or not (you surely hope that it wasn't, since the team records all radio for the duration of the races) “what's jyp’s predicted lap time?”
“1:32 on hards,” lewis clarifies on the radio. “that could be lower though, since it was driven by park on the data they've given.”
“oh,” you descend. “right, okay. i’ll try to make the lap time.”
“push as much as you want,” lewis says. “the car can take it.”
lewis wasn't wrong in any way, the car could take it. it was good and smooth on the corners, even on the hards, but there's a bright blue car, lined up with strips in chrome, flying by your side as you finish the lap.
“1:29:22,” lewis said over the radio once more. “box, box now, y/n. session finished.”
you sigh as you went to the pit lane, returning the car to its original place in your garage now that hyunnie was set to exit. you went out of the car, immediately taking off your helmet and the blue balaclava underneath.
“how’s the laps?” you asked your engineer, watching closely at the current world champion’s car gliding fastly on the track.
“it's as predicted, y/n,” he says. “the simulation did well at the temperature degradation as well, but be careful of the dirty air intake on the second sector during the actual race.”
“okay,” you also watch the car on the screen, it's a live feed from the ones in cable, and you see that momo is doing really well on the straights, gaining much more speed as much as you did (you assume). “how's hyunnie doing?”
“oh, well,” lewis looks at the other data board, and checks on with sebastian, hyunnie’s engineer. “you two are the same on the 1st and 3rd sectors, but kim is getting dirty air intake on the second sector as hirai’s ahead.”
you cursed under your breath, “fuck.” you're fucked. momo was a champion way before you stepped flat out on the pedal and worked your laps around. she's not in any less team than scaglietti, and you might just think that she just took all the talent out of jyp to set a stunning 1:28:12. A whole second in front of you.
that's something momo does. she's always been ahead.
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that leads you to a spot on the grid, front row, but it sure is annoying to see that smug face just show on screen as she puts on her helmet for the race. you saw her as you were reviewing the strategy for the race today.
but despite all the anger, you can't deny that momo was an attractive entity. underneath that bright pastel pink and purple helmet was a woman with such a strong will to win. that image of her plunging in the ice bath, only in her compression underwear pops in your head. (you saw it on their social media okay, it's not something to be guilty about.) but you wriggle your head side to side still, brushing off the thought.
a formation lap later, your heart beats a thousand times more, and your throat gets a little stuck as you see the same red lights that indicate the start. this was it. you are so ready to see it.
and finally, “lights out and away we go!”
it felt like you're in the right place, playing the right game as on the first corner, you nearly overtook momo. but she won't let you do that and didn't even break a sweat.
it was safe to say that you're given a little bit of caution since you are a rookie, same thing with tzuyu on fifth, as it was said that she was keeping the other positions captive in their states as she was conducting a drs train. pretty impressive defence, but what's more impressive is that momo's on her 17th lap out of 57, and she's not even bothering to box.
better late than sorry, you go to the pit lane to get your overly worn set of soft tires into medium ones, just like what you practised last time and set the fastest lap time.
in the 52nd lap of the race, you and momo were chasing each other, quite literally, as she was going wheel to wheel with you. it has been going on for a few couple of laps already, and momo's worried that if the cars could talk, they'd already be best friends.
“let her pass,” lewis commanded over the radio. “just a teeny tiny bit, y/n.”
you just hummed and braked late on the next turn, making momo purposefully go ahead. you sacrificed a few milliseconds to gain a whole couple of seconds to push the whole car in the straight sections, and approaching that turn in front of momo locked in your chance to be the future world champion for the season.
“fuck,” you hold onto the steering wheel ever so tightly as you turned, just grazing behind momo's tires, going ahead of her. “did i do it?”
“smoked a little but you're in p1,” lewis says. “p1 is secured, go flat out.”
you were handed the mic as you fitted your cap, “how does it feel like to be the first winner of the season?”
“ah,” you smiled. “of course i'm very thankful for the team, to daehyun who kept her place defending, and for lewis keeping me in check for the whole race. thank you for the gochiya skyline team for guiding me on this journey.”
“that’s such a great thing for you, y/n,” the interviewer complimented. “you had an amazing drive from the last laps that you encountered on the track. it was a genius and smart race. what more could we expect from you in the future?”
“some more great racing,” you chuckled. “and some more wins, maybe even a championship if the races let me.”
momo, on the other side, tried to put on a face— one that smiles, but you just know the side of her lip was twitching to frown and launch at you when you went up the podium and received your trophy and medal.
momo couldn't sleep that night.
she hates that she has to see that smug little smile on your face after you knew you won over her, she hates the way you pop the champagne gently, careful to not spray her so hard, and how your hand brushed on hers kindly when you said your little ‘congratulations’ in your soft voice.
she hates that you fill her head ever so dearly like she doesn't feel guilt when she sees you.
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“what do you mean you heard us last night?” sana argues, laughing as you two made your way to the hotel elevator going to your floor. you had a couple of drinks with your best friend at the bar, and had a little celebration as well.
“sorry i have ears,” you jokingly plug your ears with your fingers. “you owe me those earplugs. i didn't know that you two were an … item.”
sana laughs. “what, you sincerely thought that i was fucking around with that jimmy choo model i told you?”
“i mean, she's hot,” you commented. “and definitely your type, so, who am i to question. but hyunnie?”
“yeah, why,” sana raised her eyebrow at you, suspecting. “she’s also hot and good at everything, especially in be-”
you rolled your eyes in sarcasm, “oh shut up,” you whined. “i don't need to know that.”
“hyunnie and i were talking about something last night,” sana laughs as you two go out of the elevator as you've reached your floor. “we kinda are still on that ‘y/n and momo would kiss someday’ agenda, but please hear me out,” she sighs, standing in front of you as she knows you'd deem it ridiculous and look at her with your eyes rolled upwards, showing your utter disgust. “we remembered momo literally smoked someone from vantage last year just because she didn't like them. that's why they played the villain card on her in the stupid documentary. but then, the guy's really just ass and mina complained about him too so, point valid…”
you looked at her, grounded her by holding her on her shoulders, “minatozaki, please tell me what you're trying to say.”
“yeah, right,” she then snaps back. “if she really didn't like you, she wouldn't even bother to save face or be civil with you. even though i was all up and cuddly with hyunnie last night, i saw you two. momo has never made a move like that because she doesn't like begging, and you know that too.”
“maybe she's just helping herself, you know,” you chuckled. “it's really not that deep.”
“you're so…” sana hits you lightly. “you've been so empathetic with me but how come you can't see through momo?”
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you thought about that for days on end. how come you haven't seen through momo like you did with everyone else?
maybe it's the time, maybe it's the banter, or maybe, you're just too deep in thought when you're facing her. you're even so shocked when you realized just how self conscious you are around momo— you're hyper aware of how you look, if your clothes look decent, or if you smell good. like you're having a little crush.
it was already mid-season. you and momo were alternating from winning races. it was so funny because the fans say that you two give up each other's places so that you could create an alternating pattern, but that isn't really the case.
“ah, i'm really going crazy,” you sighed, finally taking a hit with your golf club after contemplating. you went out with jeongyeon, a fellow racer from the estrella racing team, and her teammate, nayeon. “i mean, you two know i've been doing really well, but i don't know. i can’t sleep and all.”
nayeon straight up laughs after taking a shot as well, the ball flying to the air, back to the ground, “sana was right, you are silly.”
you looked at them, puzzled as jeongyeon laughs with her wife, wrapping an arm around her waist. damn, they were even in sync leaning back as they laughed.
“you're just like her,” nayeon points to jeongyeon. “that's what she said exactly to me when she confessed.”
jeongyeon then finally stops throwing a laughing fit and puts a grounding hand on your shoulder, “maybe you two need a moment. like an actual talking moment. there's something to unpack between the two of you.”
you get antsy just thinking of it. maybe it was really something you needed, something you craved, but you just can't bring your mouth to say it.
────────────────⋆⋅🏁⋅⋆───────────────
being in formula 1 isn't just about the racing, of course, it's also a lifestyle. now, you figured it isn't easy to get out of momo's sight. you basically have the same social circle, and every single break between races, there's got to be a time where you parked beside each other, sat close to each other, talked to a common person, got the same drink, and said the same things.
“you act like you can't see me.” momo laughs silently, taking a sip of her drink. it was a night before going off to the race, and surprisingly, you also live at the same compound as her, and you were itching to get a drink. that's why you're at the local bar.
“just didn't want to bother you,” you sighed, getting more comfortable on your barstool as you ordered another drink. “you told me that, right? you don't wanna be bothered.”
“on the race, yes,” she sighs. “what, you wanna race me here too?”
“oh, no,” you laughed, immediately dismissing the idea. “i can’t go home shitfaced. i still need to pack my things.”
“you really are a crammer,” she mentioned. you looked at her, quite puzzled at how she knew about it. “sana told me, you know.”
“what,” you then turned to her, meeting the pool of her deep dark brown eyes that matched her leather jacket. “why?”
“i- um-,” she scratched the back of her nape as you observed the slight tinge of red shading the back of her ear. “visited you, when you crashed.”
“oh,” you uttered, holding your breath under your tongue. “um, well, thank you.”
“no need,” momo chuckles. “i'm the one who needs to thank you.”
you asked, “why?”
“nothing.” she shyly looks away from you once more and takes a drink. “aren't you scared?”
you looked at her, seemingly shocked at the question, “of what?”
“crashing,” she mused. “we're off to belgium and i guess you're quite sca-”
“i am,” you claimed, smiling as you looked at her. “i'm scared that i might do one split second decision that could absolutely ruin the whole race, the whole season again.”
momo turns to you again, “you're not afraid of dying?”
“a little,” you take a sip of your whiskey as you contemplate. “i would be more worried about the people blaming themselves, though. some of them don't know that i'm thick skulled and i want to do everything including the risks,” you said. “that one in spa isn't yours, it never was, so never feel guilty about it now that you've seen me.”
her eyebrows clinched together in the middle of her forehead, and her lips turned into a mocking smirk, “what?”
“you know it,” you return the same smirk at her. “that's why you're trying to be nice, aren't you? that's why you're working your ass off trying to tell me about the weather when we're on track, trying to pair up with me in those silly little games that the marketing team says. momo, you don't need to deny. i don't want you to feel guilty for me.”
“who the hell are you to say that i feel guilty because of you?” she scoffed.
“you reek of it,” you held her wrist, making her look at you. “and i hate to see it. you weren't this cautious with me before, momo. i hate that you have to sacrifice your breaks, your speed, just because you don't want the same thing happening. i want you to fight.”
she catches the lump in her throat and gulps, the rim of her eyes threatening to spill the tears, “i can’t do that anymore.” she removed your hold on her wrist and ran away to the door of the bar.
you then leave several bills on the table, letting the bartender know that you're leaving too, and you chase momo, who was just running a few blocks away.
you then start your car, pulling up and honking the horn as you roll down your window. “hirai!” you called out.
she then stops on her tracks, sitting down at the nearby bench. her eyes were bloodshot in tears, and you immediately came to her, taking her in the car.
you swore under your breath as you pulled out a box of tissues in your glove compartment, handing it to her as you reached out for her seatbelt.
“i'm sorry,” you sighed as you continued to drive, and momo wipes off her tears. “i, um-”
“i know,” she chuckles. “you're guilty too, huh?”
“i guess it's just fair to say that,” you said. “mind telling me?”
“about what?”
“how you've been, since that day.”
“well,” she sighs. “guilty. like by a lot,” she laughs. “i shouldn't have let you. sana wanted to get you away from it but she was that much of a tolerator that she wouldn't mind crashing with you.”
“ah, well,” you paused for a while, greeting a red light as you thought. sana did talk to you about it, but she ended up getting upset with you as well before the race. “we actually fought.”
“oh,” she laughs again. “come to think of it, i should've collided with you during that practice, you know? that was a close call.”
you just nodded, it really was a close call as she was so aggressive with her drive that day.
“there's a lot we need to ponder on.” you sighed, lightening your grip on the steering wheel.
momo then looks at you, “wanna ditch the flight?”
that's how you ended up in momo's flat, playing mario kart and downing a couple cans of beer.
“no fair,” she pouts, seeing the result— it was wario who took the lead, and princess peach for the second. “i had the first place for like… most of the game!”
“it's all fair in mario kart,” you smirked as you stood up and looked at your watch. it was already 1:00am, and your flight to belgium with your team is at 3:00am. “i wish i could stay for longer but look,” you showed her the time on your wrist. “it’s a bit late.”
she then held your wrist, the one with the watch, seemingly not wanting you to leave just yet. “nice watch,” she laughs as she traces her fingers on the cold steel band of it. “it’s not late. come on, i didn't think you were this boring.” she then pulls you down again and hands you the blue nintendo switch remote. “just one more round.”
momo's one more round turned into two, to three, to four, and you didn't seem to mind the time anymore until you're bombarded with calls from your team manager.
“stay the night,” momo smiles as she takes the cans of beer with you to her trash can. “it's late anyway. plus, you won't catch that flight.”
“i know,” you laughed. “i’ll sleep on the couch.”
“no,” she insisted. “my bed is big enough.”
“alright,” you just nodded, as you were also getting caught on with sleep. “do you have like… a spare toothbrush though? i can't go to sleep with my mouth smelling like beer.”
“yeah,” she cackled and led you to her bathroom. “i keep these things if ever someone asks me to hand them over one.” she handed you a dental care set, complete with a toothbrush, toothpaste, and a mouthwash in a small pouch.
“you're unbelievable,” your jaw dropped in just pure shock. you didn't know momo was this much of a girl scout. “you're ready for everything, huh.”
“of course,” she smiled. “just call me if you ever need anything else, hm?”
that night, you learned that: momo's a clean person and everything in her room was organised through and through, she likes to take the right side of the bed, and that she has trouble sleeping.
you've been lying on your side for what it seems like forever, and you don't even know why you can't sleep. you've shared beds with your friends for most of your life, most of them with the impeccable cuddle monster minatozaki sana, which you thought was the final boss when it comes to sharing beds.
but she says, “hey, aren't you asleep yet?”
“no, not yet,” you responded, still laying on your side. “i'm thinking of a good excuse.”
momo scoffed, “just don't. just tell them you'll book a direct flight to belgium.”
“that's rude.”
“it's not like they're gonna remove you out of the team,” she laughed. “if you really want it to be believable, try to lie. like your dog had an emergency or something.”
“i don't raise a dog on my own,” you then laughed and faced her side, surprised that she was also facing you. “they won't believe me.”
“then, tell them that you're with me.” she says.
“they're not going to believe that,” you grinned. “plus, i don't think that they'd take that as valid, you know.”
“then, what is?”
“i’d probably just tell them that i got something else to do.”
momo chuckles, “like what?”
“nintendo,” you laughed. “i mean, that's a valid enough reason, right?”
that's how you ended up with your limbs and arms tangled with momo's body.
you come to your senses as you feel a warm breath fanning your neck, and you slowly open your eyes into the morning light. you checked on your watch, surprisingly still there on your wrist, and it shocked you. it was already 12am.
it was 10:00 am, and yet the current world champion is cuddled up in her bed with you.
momo then grunts, stretching out her arms and legs but still keeping ahold of you by your wrist, and she opens her eyes, immediately dropping your hand and her hold.
“good morning?” you smiled.
“good morning,” she forces a smile back, immediately sitting down in nervousness? embarrassment? excitement? honestly, she doesn't know. she then clears her throat and asks, “slept well, rookie?”
“yeah, um,” you cleared your throat too and sat up, feeling the mattress beneath you. “you have a good bed.”
“you're lucky,” she stretches. “you're the first one to know that.”
what? “um,” you gulped. “sorry?”
“sana always slept on the couch when she comes over,” she chuckles. “i owe you breakfast, let's go.”
“and a flight,” you corrected and she nodded, making her way to her kitchen. “you'll cook?”
“of course,” she laughs, taking out some thickly sliced bacon, and some eggs. she saw you quite skeptical about her choice of breakfast, “why, would you like something else?”
“uh,” you thought for a little while. sliced bacon and eggs are exactly what you needed, but, “do you have some coffee?”
“yep,” she says. “if you'd be of some help, then you could make our coffee.”
you then nodded and she handed you over two mugs, getting ready for coffee as she heats a pan on her stove.
“ah, this is great,” momo says as she looks over her window, drinking her cup of coffee and eating her sandwich. “ever had a breakfast this great?”
“yeah,” you smiled. “in monaco, my hotel was just overviewing the whole city so…”
“i won that one though,” she teased. “how's the dnf?”
“awful,” you joked. “like really, it's my first race there and the engine suddenly fails me. that's pure unluckiness.”
“don't worry,” she comforts. “you'll stick around for a long, long time.”
“i know,” you chuckled. “unless i don't find the spark in it anymore.”
“same,” she then looks at you, bringing her cup of coffee down on her wooden table once more. “who do you think will win the race this week?”
you bat your eyelashes at her, “wanna bet?”
“oh, of course,” she laughs. “i’d bet $100 on you.”
“okay,” you then laughed too. “i’ll bet $200 on you, too.”
she looked at you, puzzled, “why?”
“you didn't say that i couldn't bet on you,” you sighed. “and based on the race status, you're ahead of me by several points, you won last week, then, it's just right for me to nominate you.”
she stretches her hand, “deal?”
and you shook it with yours, “deal.”
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“y/n,” daehyun, back at the hotel, looks you in the eyes and sits in front of you. “why the hell did you come with hirai momo, and even riding the same plane as hers? and she even took you to her private pl-”
“yes, i know, but please calm down,” you held her by the shoulders and made her a little grounded so you could talk to her. “we sorted things out,” you sighed. “and it went well. we stayed up all night playing nintendo, so i missed the flight and she let me stay.”
“she let you what?”
you looked at her, puzzled. “let me stay?”
“did you kiss?”
“no,” you dismissed. “that's weird.”
“ah, fuck,” she sighs. “really?”
“yes, really,” you said. “please don't be weird about it. she's trying to really change for the better, you know?”
she smiles and stood up, “yeah, alright, i get it,” she said. “lewis is so pissed with you though, good luck with that.”
hyunnie wasn't lying. your race engineer called you unprofessional the moment you step at the team garage for the day, but you sorted it out by saying you had to attend to something personal. (in this case, the personal was playing nintendo with the current world champion, but you didn't say that part because he didn't ask for it anymore.)
friday came and practices were on. you worried as it was your first race in this car with this weather— surprisingly cold and overly wet. the track was wet, the seat inside of the car was wet, and everything just slid. just like before your crash.
the fear creeps up through your veins, but it doesn't let you not hold onto the wheel. you raced, as promised and as dealt with in your bet with momo. you don't want to lose a couple of hundred dollars because of her.
it rained on the track heavily over the weekend. you successfully finished and secured a pole position for the sunday race, with momo taking place just behind you on the grid in third.
“44 laps, y/n, we're opting for a safe plan a,” lewis says over the radio. “keep your tires guarded and we'll do two stops if needed.”
“okay,” you said. “is the rain expected to worsen during the race?”
“not exactly,” lewis confirmed. “but expect it to seem a little heavier on laps 22 to 34, since the downpour is expected to be harder on those parts.”
“got it,” you said. “careful and fast.” you repeat to yourself until it was lights out.
two things were on your mind during the race: one, is that the rain will get worse and potentially knock people off the track so you're extra careful, and two, why was hirai momo so damn slow?
in lap 29, the rain started pouring harder, but you continued to lead. as expected, the tyres held on for longer as it wasn't that hot nor too slippery, and it feels as if you're just gliding on the ground.
“box, box.” lewis says on the radio, and you immediately put the button ‘okay’ to pit.
you enter the pit lane safely, but you saw a huge spin off just not so far away from the pit exit. it wasn't a crash (thankfully), but it was a spin-off causing drivers to pass by that leading driver.
“who's that?” you asked over the radio as you exited the pit lane safely.
“it was hirai,” lewis updated. “nothing too serious, no calls since she re-entered the track.”
“okay,” you said. your heart skipped a beat the moment you heard her name, but then, you're just glad that she's back on track. “am i still p1?”
“yes,” lewis confirms. “expected to keep p1 till the end of the race.”
you then wondered, “who's behind?”
“hirai,” lewis says over the radio. this is where it starts. “team ordered to switch. watch out for eau rouge.”
“got it.” you confirmed over the radio.
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“what the hell, hirai?”
“don't what the hell at me,” she guilty hangs her head down, sitting with her legs apart at the cool down area. you didn't care if the cameras were on you, or if someone just came in, but you were so mad that you couldn't even get yourself to take the ‘1st’ cap on your head. “i was just trying to not cr-”
“please don't do this here,” sana, after successfully overtaking for the third place, mediates the hot headed arguments. “let's just get this done and go home, okay?”
“okay, sorry,” you stepped down from that attitude and fixed your cap on your head. “it's just tha-”
sana interferes as she pushes her pointer finger on your chest, “save it.”
this is the first time you've ever received a trophy where you felt awful. not because you were upset with a fellow driver, but because it feels like a repayment for guilt.
you went back to the hotel with a heavy heart even after celebrating with your team, but you still can't tuck away that feeling— one rooting from the unjustified move from hirai momo, breaking and not taking the chance to fight for the position that you had.
she was about to do an overtake just after the eau rouge, but she didn't even try to fight, causing her breaks to lock up, but she was quick to recover to second place. you think it's entirely stupid, yes, she doesn't want to crash into you, but then she did that without thinking of the other drivers behind her. you knew that there would be a significant lag to recover after locking up, which had you worried about that move.
momo: meet me here
📍tavern solo, stavelot
you: why would i?
momo: free drink?
you: i could buy one myself.
momo: i've got your hundred dollars and an explanation. isn't that enough?
that was the momo you know. never backing out even after saying no. on the way to the bar, it was cold, and your hands were nearly freezing when you saw momo at one of the tables, waiting patiently as she looked outside, two drinks ready on the table.
“hey,” you sighed, taking the seat in front of her. “was i late?”
“no,” she smiles. “i’m sorry,” she says. “i know you wanted to have a good race and i rui-”
“i understand,” you sighed once more, a little deeper as you sipped on the cocktail. “you just wanted us to be safe. i get it.”
“but still,” she refutes. “that's so unsportsmanlike from me.”
“well, yes,” you chuckled. “there's always a next race to catch.”
“i want you to fight even if it makes my head fly to your lap, y/n!” she suddenly screams, shocking you and other people in the pub.
“momo,” you suddenly went and held her by the shoulders to ground her. “i know it's upsetting but,” you said. “do you trust me?”
“um,” she thought for a while. “yeah…?”
“okay, great,” you chuckled. “you have your car with you?”
“no, my hotel's close by.”
“great,” you then held her wrist, dragging her outside of the pub. you were careful and stopped in front of your car, opening the door for her to sit down. “get inside.”
momo's just in shock. she's fine with trusting you, but, she's conflicted. for all she knows, you could've taken a blow on her stomach or something (it's definitely going to be or something) but she also knows that you're a good person.
she intently watched you as you went to the driver's side, carefully sitting and starting the engine. she realizes it wasn't her first time inside this car. you were known to take this car on cargo with the team's. it was a nissan r34 skyline, beautifully detailed in metallic blue (she thinks it's your favorite color), with a twin turbo inline six engine.
“well,” you say, clearing the air a little. momo can't hide the fact that she was tense. “do you need the ac to be a little higher?”
“no,” she hesitated. “actually, yes, please…”
“okay, if this helps you to relieve,” i sighed. “i'm gonna pay a visit to one of my old friends.”
“and…?”
“he owns a karting track,” you laughed, seeing momo sigh in relief. “if you thought i’d kill you, well, i should've done that way, way back.”
“why didn't you?”
“was there a valid reason?” you ridiculously say. “i mean, apart from anything else that we've been through, i don't hold any grudges from that.”
“well, okay,” she chuckled. “why take me there?”
“show me just how much you wanna beat me.”
“why?”
“i just wanna see,” you laughed. “and i told you. never feel guilty for what you've done before. give me all you've got, ‘kay?”
“okay.”
a few minutes (and a few awkward stares and silences) later, you've arrived at your friend's karting track. as expected, there were no other people who were karting as it was already past midnight, just the lights open, and a person with a towel covered on their face.
“mick,” you called out. “mick!”
“oh,” the guy quickly removed the towel, and immediately fixed his hair to look at you, processing what he was seeing. “oh! hey,” he stands, finally getting out of his desk and greets you with a hug. “been a while since i've seen you here. won the race?”
“definitely,” you smiled. “what have you been up to?”
“oh, you know,” he smiles. “someone's got to keep the place’s lights on.” he pointed at the lights of the karting track. he's runs it with his dad, who was also his mentor and a great mentor to other young racers as well.
“no i mean,” you said. “racing gigs.”
“wec, wrc, heck even indycar teams were calling me,” he sighs. “but i don't think i'm ready for that yet.” he confirms, looking to your left. “ms. hirai!” he comes over to shake her hand, happy as he can be. “i'm mick,” he introduced. “part owner of the track and y/n’s friend from vantage!”
“nice to meet you,” momo partly smiles. “you look familiar. have i met you somewhere?”
“oh, right,” he says, remembering the instances where he passes by momo. “we competed together in the junior karting series. i entered the formulas a year after you two though, so i think that's it?"
“oh, that explains why.” momo says, and you nod.
“okay,” you clasped your hands together, bringing the attention to yours. “i told you we'd race, right?”
“yup.” momo nodded.
“then,” you took her wrist again, now walking slowly towards the helmet and suit section. “gear up.”
momo then changes into a fitting racing suit as you do so too, and she puts on a pink helmet, while you put on a red helmet to match the suit.
mick guided you through the controls of the kart (even though you two were very much familiar with it already) as a precaution, and you two started a lap to determine who'd take the lead on the opening.
you were off to a good start, and momo was pushing hard as well, which was predicted. you wanted her to fight and she gave you exactly that.
not only did she lead that opening lap, but after 40 laps, she did dominate the hell out of you in the kart. you didn't think it was a whack, of course, she's still momo— 2 time world champion, three, possibly if she doesn't fuck it up (which is very unlikely, because she's just that good).
“oh, man,” you threw yourself onto the grass of the open spot between the track after your little session, breathing loudly as you sighed, taking the spot beside momo. she hands you over a cold bottle of water. “thanks,” you smiled in comfort, finally feeling the bottle's coldness as you finished the race. “feel better?”
“you bet,” she laughs. “how about you?”
“hm, feeling great,” you smiled, looking up at the stars. it wasn't any different from what you've seen from any part of the world, but it was a great sight to see. “wow…”
momo shot up her eyes to the sky as well, watching the clouds thread through it and the stars shining its familiar light.
“i have a weird question,” you say. “do you think there are other people much crazier than us when it comes to racing?”
“everyone on the track is,” momo laughs. “you just pay attention to the ones who you're really close with in competition.”
“hm, makes sense.” you then turn to her side, admiring her as she looks at the stars.
she turns to you, admiring your eyes and how it slowly droops to match your little pout, “you tired?”
“a bit.”
“rest,” she taps on her shoulder twice. “don't worry, i won't hit you in your sleep or something.”
still, you were suspicious. “you sure?”
she just nodded and pulled you to her side, slowly guiding your head to lean on her.
you laughed and just succumbed at her warmth as you wrapped your arms around her waist comfortably, the peach scent of her shampoo lacing you into a deep, peaceful and fulfilling nap.
[mick-ey schumi sent a photo]
mick: you two look cute…
you: shut it please
mick: you bet i won't
this is louvre worthy
you: ??? shut up
mick: told you, you bet i won't
sana was right
maybe you two should kiss
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kittykattropicanna · 5 months
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my brain is absolute mush i am in love with him!!!! he tries to get you to send him more photos — and you more than happily oblige — and he guards them like his life depends on it. slowly starts to ask more personal questions, mostly trying to figure out if you have a partner and when he finds out you don’t? the game is on. starts using pet names in his letters here and there, drawing you in deeper and you’re so helpless against him. and then the calls start and he hears your voice and then it’s all he can think about. tries to get you to say certain things — especially his name — for him to tuck away for later when he’s alone with your photo and his hand on his cock and wishing more than anything to have you instead of his fist ):
he thinks himself a good person, all things considered. but knowing you, and knowing you’re out there? no protection, such a sweet and soft thing — it worries him. maybe he asks johnny to try and find you. doesn’t necessarily disclose his true intentions, mostly out of curiosity. but then he starts thinking of when he gets out, how he can meet you, bring you back to his place, knowing he’s the best one to keep you safe and so he uses his time to get a head start so when he’s out he can finally keep you ):
hyperventilating, screaming, projectile vomiting, this, this, this, THISSSSS,
The reason im soooo obsessed with your ask is because 1, you’re a fucking incredible writer and 2, you dived so deep into PrisonPenPal!Simon’s psyche, his such a smart dude and unbelievably manipulative when he needs to be…..
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Sorry everyones!! asks are taking so long to get out!! I just want to go into the most detail possible and give everyones ideas justice!! if you're waiting, I promise you its in the works rn &lt;3
TW: mentions of murder, jail, corruption kink, masterbation (Reader & Simon), public masterbation (kinda), phone sex, smut, manipulative!Simon and kinda stalker vibes I guess (not yandere)
PrisonPenPal!Simon masterlist
Regular masterlist
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If you think about his sentencing, he purposely played his cards in away that made him the victim without him actually having to act like the victim if that kinda makes sense? 
The second he punched that kid he knew he fucked up bad, and then when he saw the blood seeping out of the kids skull and covering the floor, he knew he fucked up really bad. 
A normal person would either run, go into hiding, try and resist the arrest, break down and have a panic attack. But he knew this wasn’t time for an emotional response, he needed to start planning what his next step was going to be and how he was going to execute it in a way that favoured him. 
His not a psychopath, his 100% capable of feeling and experiencing human emotion and is very emotionally intelligent, but when he needs to be, his actions can be extremely calculated to the point its almost scary. 
When he sees your picture though, something definitely clicks in his brain, he just wants more.
If that means more pictures or letters or even a phone call, he just needs it. 
I think maybe its something primal as well… his a man at the end of the day, and being locked up for years in an all male prison with all male guards means he hasn’t even seen a women that isn’t a playboy model for fucking agessss 
His not dumb either, he knows you put effort into taking that photo for him, he knows you put on a red bra because he told you his favourite colour was red. So the idea that maybe, just maybe you feel the same way, or are at least starting to, really erupts something in him.
But you’re completely right. He wouldn’t show a soul the photo you sent him. He’d go to drastic measures to hide everything :( you sent them to him, you’re writing to him, not anybody else,and he knows that if any of the other inmates found out about you, or god forbid, saw a photo of you, they would have an absolute field day. 
He sees how the men his jailed with act when wives, sisters or girlfriends come to visit their loved ones. 
He hears their disgusting comments about the women’s bodies, the detailed answers of what they would do if they ever got their hands on them. It always made his throat fill with bile and stomach twist.
Si may not be a perfect man, but talking like that about another mans women? His above that.  
Thinking about how they would say the same things about you, how’d they’d all pass the photo around with a dirty smirk on their face and snicker? He wasn’t having that, over his dead fucking body. 
He writes back to you keeping it relatively normal, lighthearted and friendly, but he sneaks in a little 
“Ya’ boyfriend probably isn’t over the moon ya’ writtin’ someone like me, aye? I mean, if my missus was writin’ to a felon I’d blow my fuckin’ top love, theres gotta’ be somthin’ out there better for ya’ to been doin’, readin’ a book or somthin’ like that. It was lovely puttin’ a face to a name, just seein’ someone so happy makes me smile”
Receiving his letter makes your heart sore, you made him smile. 
Obviously you had to send him more photos right? You just wanted to make him smile…. right? :( 
You definitely didn’t want to send more because your pussy clenched when he called you “love”
Its definitely not because he was so protective over you, knowing he was so worried about your well-being, always asking if you're doing okay, asking if you’re safe…
“I worry bout’ you out there lovie, ya' gotta keep safe, look after ya’ self”
Getting your friends to help you take more photos for him!!! 
Maybe you force them to go on a hike with you… you wear those leggings that make your arse look fantastic, posing in front of a nice view and purposely sticking out your cute little bum, subtly showing it off to the camera…. Showing it off to him :((((
But its just to show him the view!!!!! He hasn’t seen a nice landscape in years!! He deserves it!!
You’re not a dirty girl :( you’re a good girl!! You would never do something so disgusting for a man who’s locked in jail, your daddy would be so disappointed if he knew you were sticking out your arse for a man like Si >:( 
Calling over your ex-situationships so they can fuck you, your dildo wasn’t enough anymore, you needed the real thing….you needed Si, but obviously you can’t have him, right? There’s no possible way you could ever experience your biggest fantasy….right?
So other men will just have to do :(((
Having them hold you down and fuck your pussy mediocrely, closing your eyes trying to imagine Si :( maybe even moaning his name accidentally…..
Its never really that enjoyable though, all you can think about is how Si would fill you so much better…technically, you have no evidence to prove that, but his such a gentlemen!! He knows how to speak to a women…he must know how to fuck one as well!!! 
It only makes sense….
It makes you so sad… he’d never think about you the same way you think about him >:( 
He’d never fantasies about your sloppy cunt the way you fantasies about licking up his fat cock, teasing his tip and ruining your throat as he shoves his meaty dick down it :(((
Rubbing your swollen clit on your pillow as you moan for him, maybe even looking at the grainy photo of his face while you pleasure yourself :(( you’re so disgusting for him, so needy, he would never want a girl as yucky as you….
When Si receives your next letter informing him that you don’t have a boyfriend as well as a photo of you posing for him, that’s when the obsession really begins :3
His not obsessed on a yandere level but his definitely deep into it :)
He never really thought about what he would do after he got out, he always kinda just guessed that he would go back to his old ways, but now he has you very obviously showing some type of interest in him, his mind is fucking racing!!!
Maybe he can get your number and use his monthly call to talk to you, maybe you can come visit him while his still locked up, maybe you’ll be willing to have him when his out, maybe you can move in together, maybe he’ll marry you, maybe he’ll finally get to fuck that sweet little pussy that his been fantasising about, maybe…maybe…..maybe..Ahhhhh!!! 
Stealing sponges and a rubber glove when his on cleaning duty :((((
Bargaining with his prison mates for hair ties and an empty Pringles can so he can make his own makeshift fleshlight :((( 
Fucking his fat dick with it while his eyes focus on your arse, imagining his got you in doggy and fucking you stupid:((( Maybe even putting his pillow in front of him and pretending its your arse, squeezing and spanking it >:(((
His corruption kink is feral…he knows his a lowlife with nothing good ahead of him, his more then aware that for the rest of his life his going to be labeled as a murderer, but the idea of him taking a pretty little thing like you and pulling you down with him makes him cum so hard his thick juicy thighs shake, fleshlight filling up with his cum and quite moans falling from his mouth >: (((
He doesn’t know were it came from, he just wants you to be with him and he knows he’ll never be able to live the white collar lifestyle you so obviously enjoy. 
The idea of taking you out of that world and reeling you into his consumes him. Shitty one bedroom apartment, cardboard boxes as bed side tables, stained carpet and a flickering kitchen lightbulb. Its almost feeds his cocky superiority complex. Being able to pull a beautiful doll like you, get you so obsessed and needy for him that you’d follow him to the shit hole he calls home. 
Being so obedient, so willing, that you give up everything you’ve worked for just to submit to him…..
Receiving that sweet little letter excites the fuck out of him, don’t get me wrong, but it also scares him a little, his protective instincts kick in a bit. 
If you’re one thing, its a little naive.
You’re so willing to give up sensitive information about yourself without a second thought, you’re very obviously extremely vulnerable and trusting…. 
As much as he wants to protect you, he also sees these personality traits to be extremely beneficial to him. 
You’re very easy to reel in after the line is crossed from polite and friendly to more flirtatious and maybe even a little bit sexual.
He addresses you differently in his letters now, no longer just using your name and actively being more outwardly affectionate towards you
“Hello my sweet girl :)”
and
“been on my mind lot’ lately, been thinkin’ about you, thinkin’ all sorts of things I know I shouldn’t ;)”
Once that barriers broken and your letters are just as enthusiastic, he knows his got you. 
His got you to a point that he knows asking for a phone call isn’t a risky move anymore :3
He plans it though, he knows exactly what his going to do on that phone call and he knows nobody can be around while his doing it. 
Like I mentioned in the first fic, his sentence was reduced because of his good behaviour, this obviously means his on good terms with the guards and most of the other inmates. They all owe him a favour in one way or another. He hadn’t asked for his good deeds to be returned, not needing them to be……until now. 
He writes to you deciding on a date and time, Thursday at 3am. 
He wanted to be alone when he talked to you, have some privacy and not be bothered. 
His on really good terms with the night guard who works Thursdays, with just a little bit of bribing, he could be let out and have his phone call with you alone. 
“Listen mate, ya’ want to know who’s movin’ drugs in and out of this joint? I can tell ya’ with no worries, but I need ya’ to do me a solid favour” 
The guard his reluctant of course, but like I mentioned, Simon can be calculated when he wants to be 
“Magin’ the raise you’d get if ya’ could give ya’ bosses that information? I saw ya had a photo of a little girl on ya car keys, think bout all the toys n’ shit you could buy er’ with some extra cash”
And obviously, he got what he wanted, it was light work really ;)
As 3am slowly got closer, you were shitting yourself, lets be real. It was hard to wrap your head around Si being an actual person, you know? Like of course his real, but it was all becoming a reality now….
You were three large glasses of wine in when it was time to call. 
When your phone started to ring from an unknown number,  you swore your heart dropped :((
The call almost rang out before you got the courage to answer it :(
When you did a very deep, rough voice with a heavy Manchester accent answered, you could hear the smirk through the phone, a confident “hello sweetheart” to match :(
His voice had your breath catch for a minute….of course you’d come up with your own idea of what he would sound like, but never in a million years did you think he would sound so charming, so confident, filled with anticipation, like he had been waiting for this moment for weeks…like he had thought of you the same way you thought about him :(((
It made your tummy swirl, that all too familiar hot ache feeling buzz in your clit :3333
On the other end of the line Si gently stroked his throbbing cock as you said your hellos :(( 
Your voice was even more memorising then he imagined, sweet little nervous giggles as you spoke to him, quietly letting him know that you weren’t quite sure what to say, that you were a little on edge, maybe a little excited. 
You could hear his laboured breath through the phone, a distant wet sound that you couldn’t describe, so quite that you didn’t know if it was real or just your preverted mind playing tricks on you, making you hear things that aren’t really there :(
Just the sound of your voice was driving Si crazy :( you’re just as sweet as he imagined you, maybe even sweeter 
He knew it was wrong of him :(
He knew that asking you to join his little game was evil. He had you right were he wanted you, and asking you to play with your pussy for him on the other end of the phone while directing you on how to finger yourself as he fucks his girthy cock with his hand wasn’t what you deserved…..
But he couldn’t help himself, not when you were talking to him like that, so innocent and sweet :(((
“Sweetheart, I need ya’ to do me a favour darlin’, okay? His cock was so hard it hurt, voice out of breath and sweat dripping down his brow. You were within arms reach, so close but yet so far away. 
“Slide ya’ hand into your panties baby, start playin’ with yourself, come on, tell me what you're doin, describe it to me”
You so easily obliged, so willing to please him :( agreeing nervously with a stutter and shaky breath as you tell him what your doing 
Describing to him what you’re wearing, an oversized t-shirt with nothing underneath :( telling him you didn’t put panties on just for him :(
You let out a quite moan as you play with your tits, telling him how hard your nipples are, squeezing the pebbles and whining as he eggs you on 
“That’s it baby, play with those tits for me, yeah?, that’s my girl, squeeze em’ for me, there ya’ go” Si had to lean himself against the phone box as his tip leaked with pre cum :(((( 
Using it to lubricate his vainy cock making the wet sounds louder through the phone, you whine louder at the thought of his cock, closing your eyes you trail your hand down to your panties and slowly slip underneath the fabric to play with your wet cunt, just like Si asked:(((
“Rub ya’ clit for me baby, tell me how good I make you feel, say ma’ name, say it” he wanted so badly to commit it to memory, lock it away for later >:(
You moan his name as you circle your clit, eyes shut as you imagine Si doing it for you instead. You chant his name while your back arches a little, pleasure building at the sound of his rough grunts and wet cock being pumped through the phone >:((((
“I know, I know sweetheart’ just hold on a little longer for me, yeah? That’s ma’ good girl, ya’ not cumin’ yet” his hand fisted his cock, squeezing himself as tight as possible and screwing his eyes shut trying to imagine he was fucking your wet pussy, not his callused hand rough and dirty from the weights he was lifting early that day :(
“Finger ya’ cunt baby, finger ya’ cunt and scream ma’ name” 
You were dangerously close to the edge, the knot in your tummy tightening by the second, your once nervous moans now turned unashamed. 
Taking your other hand and slipping it into your pussy, you let out a desperate whine, muling your hips as you pumped yourself, squelching noises matching Si’s as you abused your wet pussy :((((
“That’s ma’ perfect girl, that’s it. Come on, let go for me, let me hear those gorgeous moans” 
Finally letting the coil snap your back arched like a cat, legs shaking as you moan his name, desperate whimpers as tears of pleasure roll down your cheeks 
Si gritted his teeth as he pumped himself, ropes of his sperm painting the concrete wall in front of him as his heavy cock twitched in his hands, animalistic grunts falling from his lips as that feral pleasure he’d been chasing washed over him. :((
He’d never cum that hard in his life, vision blurry from the white hot pleasure with your heavy breaths in the background :3
Just as he was about to open his mouth, speak to you again, the phone cut out, he had used up all his time with you :(
Harsh beeps filling his ear as his cock slowly softened, tip bright red from the attention…
He needed you more then ever now, protective instinct going through the roof :( 
Knowing you’re out there all alone with nobody to keep you safe made his blood boil…..
He needed to have a set of eyes on you, the constant letters weren’t enough anymore :((((
Maybe there was a bit of jealously as well, the thought that there may be someone else….
It drove him up the wall, made him feel rage he had only felt very few times in his life 
If he couldn’t have his eyes on you, then he’d 100% send Johnny out to do the work for him.
Looking through your letters and highlighting when you mentioned the name of the cafe you went to every morning, the name of the bar you and your co-workers went to every Friday to celebrate the end of the week. 
Of course he wouldn’t tell Johnny the truth, simply asking him to keep an eye on an “old friend that’s going through a rough time” while his locked up for the rest of his sentence :(
And Johnny obliged, happy that Simon was in contact with people that weren’t just 141.
Reporting back to him every week, always with a positive review :)
A soft thing like you cant be left to fend for yourself sweetheart, not in a world like this. But don’t worry, his got your back, even behind bars ;)
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RAHHHHHHHH, him, my mind is filled with HIM
PrisonPenPal!Simon is open for requests so feel free to send them throughhhhh, add to the AU, ask me expand on certain topics, whatever floats your boat >:)
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