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harmonictechnicality · 8 months

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*no rest for the wicked*

my teensy contribution to @thefreakandthehair's spicy six summer collection 💖 | word count: 3k | rating: T | ao3 link | also, this wouldn't exist if @chocoarts didn't send me a sketch that immediately set off sparklers in my brain so bless youuu ✨

Twenty-six hours. That’s how long Eddie has been up. Twenty-six hours and twelve minutes. The heaviness hanging in his eyes is medieval-level torturous, and the cramp in his left calf is probably permanent by now.

A sane person who enjoys sleeping might be asking, ‘Why? Why put yourself through this when there’s a perfectly decent bed down the hall?’ And Eddie would be forced to reply back with two, simple words:

Concert. Tickets.

That’s right, Eddie is actively murdering his own brain cells to win two vip tickets on the radio. Twenty-seven hours ago, it seemed like a grand idea. Genius, even. It’s free and minimal effort - he just has to call the station every hour on the dot. No biggie, right?

Ha, sure. Tell that to the muscles in his eyelids.

“How much longer do you have?” Chrissy asks, snagging a magazine from the stack on the couch.

Eddie checks his watch. Huffs out a laugh. “Let’s just say, I could watch the entire Star Wars trilogy including the credits for each one.”

“Translating to...?”

“Seven-ish hours.” Robin quickly chimes. She pops out of her bedroom and joins Chrissy’s side, instantly threading their hands together. They share a look, one that makes Eddie believe in nice things, even in his state of misery. It’s their superpower, injecting their optimistic outlook into the atmosphere. Infectious in the best way.

“I always forget that you speak fluent nerd.” Chrissy snorts.

“Ouch.” Robin gasps and pulls away, stomping off to their room. Too dramatic to be believable. “Get back to bed before I actually feel offended by that.”

Normally, Eddie is charmed by how hopelessly in love his roommates are with each other. But right now, they are his mortal enemies (well, tied with The Clock), because they get to sleep and he gets to stare at the lightbulb in the ceiling fan. Every now and then, it flickers, which never fails to startle him.

Good. He desperately needs the extra alertness.

Another forty-five minutes go by before anything noteworthy happens. Eddie’s other roommate gets off his night shift around one in the morning. The front door squeals as it opens, crackling all the adrenaline leftover in Eddie’s body.

“Scared the shit out of me, man.” Which could’ve been a literal statement if Eddie hadn’t just taken a bathroom break.

“Gotta get this door fixed.” Steve says. That’s what he always says when it creaks. The reaction never changes, always skating his fingers over the door hinges, mouth twisting to the side. Hands on his hips in disapproval. Eddie has to look away before Steve breaks out his insufferably cute ‘foot tap’ routine. “Hey - why are you still up?”

Ah, yes. Just what Eddie needed. A reminder that it’s fucking late. He finds the energy (or common decency, who knows) to point at the phone. Then to the radio.

“You’re still doing that, huh?”

Eddie nods twice.

“Damn, I’ve never heard you this quiet.” Steve sounds genuinely surprised. A little too smug for Eddie’s liking. “Didn’t know your mouth could stay in a straight line for this long.”

There it is. The rich boy smartassery that will never die. Always lurking in the depths of his genetic makeup.

Eddie claps, total deadpan.

The conversation lulls while Steve messes around in the kitchen for a bit. He’s noisily opening cabinets and clanking dishes around in the sink. Eventually, he walks back into the living room with two beers.

Both for him apparently. “Well, listen,” he starts out. Kicks his feet up on the coffee table. “I’m pretty wired after work, so if you need some company-”

“Six… hours… left.” Eddie musters out.

“Okay well, I doubt I’ll last that long. But I can give it a shot.”

Eddie smirks, raises both eyebrows. “There’s a dirty joke somewhere in there. Too tired to find it though.”

“Good to know the horny part of your mind is still awake.” Steve gives Eddie a small pat on the head.

“Oh? That’s a good thing?”

“Depends on who you ask.”

“I’m asking you.” It’s too direct, Eddie hears it. And now it’s just Out There - his inability to flirt in a subtle way. And yeah, he could blame it on sleep deprivation, but he’s never been known for his mastery of ambiguity so…

The pause goes on long enough for the light to flicker again, the room growing darker with it. Steve takes a swig of his drink and smiles. “It’s good to know, Ed.”

The light flickers even darker.

Eddie is fully awake after that. Which could’ve been part of Steve’s plan - stimulate his brain with flirty comments and keep him up with those melty smiles. It’s no secret that Eddie turns into a hair-twirling loser around this guy.

Even after living together for a year and seeing one another’s most disgusting habits, he still feels this way. Tight throat, stomach flips. Purely smitten in a way that would nauseate deadbeat poets.

In this moment, however, it’s a wonderful remedy to staying awake throughout the rest of the night. Much more effective than energy drinks and Tootsie Rolls.

Steve ends up on the floor, leaning against the edge of the couch. He sips another beer, recounting some bullshit that happened during his shift at the hotel. Eddie does his best impression of Listening to Steve’s stories, but the words are just buzzing around the glow of Steve’s hair and the shine on his lips. Nodding at seemingly appropriate times is all Eddie currently can offer.

“Sleeping with your eyes open, Munson?”

Eddie blinks hard. “Huh?”

“Creepy, but impressive.” Steve laughs, tapping his hand against Eddie’s leg. “You should add that to the Special Skills column on your resumé.”

“Bold of you to assume I have a resumé.”

They spend the next hour doing just that - adding useless skills to Eddie’s nonexistent resumé. It keeps them busy. Content. Steve smacks Eddie’s knee anytime he laughs, leaves his hand longer every time. Maybe that’s all in Eddie’s semi-dormant mind, especially since Steve shows casual affection to all of his friends. But the warmth of his palm is real enough to have Eddie fully committed to making Steve laugh as much as possible.

“What about… Expert Paper Clip Chain-Maker?” Steve suggests.

Eddie stares at the chain in his hand, the one he was oblivious to creating. He whips it around like a lasso and then shrugs. “A bit wordy.”

“So you’re saying length matters?”

“Christ on toast, Harrington. You’re awfully quick to jump to that conclusion, aren’t you?”

Steve doesn’t answer, just starts laughing again. Eddie didn’t even need to tell a shitty joke this time.

And when Steve’s hand hits his knee, sliding slightly up his thigh, Eddie laughs along with him. It’s the only way to cover up the heat rushing to his face.

Eddie enters the realm of delirium with three hours left in his challenge. He slumps onto the floor next to Steve, nudging his shoulder, staring into his sleep-heavy eyes. It’s four in the morning, inhibitions be damned.

“Do you think if you ever visit Europe, they’d call you Harring-metric-ton?” Eddie picks a piece of lint off Steve’s sleeve. Perfect excuse to reach out, move in closer.

Steve groans. “Yikes. But yes, that question keeps me up at night.”

“So that’s why you’re still awake. See, I knew it wasn’t because of my silly little concert tickets.”

As soon as the words leave his lips, Eddie convinces himself that it’s the truth. Which is so dumb, so stupid. But this seed of insecurity keeps him going, fully projecting his assumptions onto Steve’s harmless comment. Somewhere deep down, buried underneath his exhaustion, Eddie knows it was a joke. But he can’t seem to shut up anymore.

“The riddle has been solved, folks! We finally know why Stevie here is still awake.” Eddie exclaims, flinging his arms out to the side. “Alert Scooby and the gang at once! Mystery Incorporated can finally pack up their magnifying glasses and pursue careers with better health insurance. Ones that covers vision costs this time. It’s what dear, ol' Velma deser-”

“Eddie.” Steve places a hand on Eddie’s arm, holding him still. Was he moving? Oh god, was he shaking?

Fucking mortifying.

Steve’s thumb swipes across Eddie’s skin, tracing diagonal lines back and forth. “You’re rambling.”

“And you’re…” Eddie loses focus. He looks down at the hypnotic patterns that Steve is making. “There. Doing that.”

Steve stops briefly to flip Eddie’s hand over, starts tracing the lines in his palm instead. The pressure makes Eddie’s heart lurch up into his throat. He can feel it thumping in his neck, faster with every stroke of Steve’s fingers. All he wants to do is close his hand around them, keep Steve there for the rest of the night. Longer if he’d let him.

“I can stop if it’s weird.” Steve’s voice is so much quieter than it was earlier.

Don’t stop. Eddie thinks. Can’t say it like that because gross. Humiliating and gross. “It’s not weird.”

Steve keeps his focus on the motion, Eddie does the same. They stay like this for a while, just watching. Intently staring over the invisible lines like pages in a novel. Eddie is pretty sure he’s breathing too loud, can hear it above the whistle in the air conditioner. Wonders if Steve can hear it too.

Probably.

“That’s not why I’m staying awake.” Steve says, never breaking the pattern.

“No?”

“It’s who I’m staying awake for.”

Steve finally stops, right in the center of Eddie’s hand. The air in the room goes dense, weighted with acknowledgment. Something has changed and Eddie can feel it everywhere.

He tilts forward, pulling his gaze away from his hand and up at Steve’s lips. If he weren’t stuck between half-awake and total-delirium, Eddie would just do it. Kiss Steve the way he’s always wanted to. Syrupy slow and deep. Savoring every second.

He could do it right now, right this second. But his focus starts drifting as he closes his eyes. “Did Chrissy tell you?” Eddie grumbles, almost unintelligible.

“Tell me what?”

Eddie’s head falls, landing somewhere on Steve’s chest. He inhales the scent of laundry detergent (because Steve and Chrissy are the only avid laundry-doers in the apartment). It’s so soothing, drawing him further into a dreamlike place.

“Tell me what, Ed?”

“That I…” Eddie is nearly asleep before he can finish the thought. The confession:

‘That I’m crazy about you.’

Sunlight hits Eddie first, startles him so much that he jolts upward. Fully awake. It takes a few seconds of furiously rubbing his eyes before the dread kicks in.

Morning.

It’s morning.

“Shit.”

Eddie fell asleep.

Steve fell asleep.

“Shitshitshit. So many shits!” He fumbles through the labyrinth of blankets and pillows around him, snatching his watch from the coffee table:

10:24 a.m.

“Goddamnit!”

Eddie sinks back down to the floor, clutching the phone that serves him no purpose anymore. All of those hours of waiting and calling for nothing. Even if general admission wasn’t already sold out, it’s not like Eddie could afford tickets on his own. He can barely keep up with his share of the rent. Chrissy had to cover for his grocery run last week and he still hasn’t paid her back.

It’s just so expected too - for him to fuck up like this. Always letting opportunities slip through the cracks, making careless mistakes. No one will be surprised that he failed at such a simple task like calling a fucking radio station.

Eddie sets the phone back on the table and cleans up the living room in a daze. Every now and then, he mutters under his breath about being a total moron. He stays relatively quiet for the most part though. No use in throwing a bitchfest while Steve is blissfully conked out three feet away.

Of course he looks good sleeping too, even in the midst of Eddie’s breakdown. Unfair.

Just before heading back to his room, Eddie hears that familiar door creak. Same one that always sets off Steve’s inner handyman tendencies.

He looks back to see Chrissy padding towards him with a blanket wrapped around her. For someone who hasn’t had their mood-altering cup of coffee yet, she looks extremely pleased to see him. Maybe she knows about the fate of the concert tickets. Maybe this is an early-risers pity party.

Fucking yay.

“Chris, please don’t try to-”

His words are muffled by Chrissy throwing her arms (and blanket cape) around him. She’s so bouncy, the way she always gets with Robin whenever their favorite song comes on at the karaoke bar. He pats her on the back and clears his throat, still trying to piece together what this exchange could be about. However, Eddie is functioning on a few hours of sleep, so his cognitive skills are groggy at best.

She gives him one more squeeze and then looks up, positively gleaming. “I knew it! I knew it would finally happen!”

“That I’d screw up for the umpteenth time in my life? Gee thanks, Chris.” Eddie says.

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about you and Steve!” She whisper-yells back.

Was she snooping on them last night? He wouldn’t put it past her, snoopiness is the foundation of their friendship. Well, whatever Chrissy thought she saw, she’s wrong. Sure, Steve and Eddie flirted, both letting some potentially mutual feelings slip out.

But it was all cut short by Eddie passing out mid-flirt. God knows how Steve took that reaction. Probably assumed Eddie was so bored that he would rather sleep than makeout with him. Or worse, that Eddie was pretending to sleep to let him down easy.

Christ, he doesn’t wanna think about that right now. Not while he’s still mourning the loss of his precious tickets.

“Hate to break it to you, honeyjam, but nothing happened.” Eddie shakes his head, gesturing to Steve who hasn’t budged from the recliner. “It’s just me over here and Steve over there. No conjunction connecting us together in that way.”

He can already tell Chrissy isn’t buying it. She’s getting that little forehead wrinkle right above her eyebrows, just like an angry cartoon character. Her best attempt at intimidation. “You didn’t see what I saw.”

“Gay desperation?”

“No, you jackass. Come here!”

Chrissy yanks Eddie into his bedroom, demanding for him to lock the door. He listens, mainly because the intimidation is starting to work a little. They sit at the edge of the bed and she begins to explain everything she saw:

Steve constructing a wall of blankets and pillows around Eddie to ensure he slept comfortably. Steve waiting by the phone, tapping his foot in that insufferably cute way that Eddie loves so much. Steve scoring the tickets, celebrating quietly to himself.

“How long were you standing at the door, weirdo?” Eddie teases her to avoid the way his stomach is twisting around her words.

Chrissy shushes him and squeals. “And he kissed your cheek!”

“Liar.”

“He did, I swear! He kissed you on the cheek or the chin or the nose. I don't know which one for sure because my view was obstructed by all of your hair.”

Eddie instinctively combs his fingers through a few strands, undoing the knotted pieces. Not all of them, but enough to keep his hands busy while he thinks through this. Processing. “And you’re sure it wasn’t a dream?”

“Positive.”

“What about a hallucination? Didn’t Byers make a batch of those infamous brownies again?”

Chrissy gives a deep sigh. “Whatever. You’re hopeless.” She shrugs the blanket back over her arms and heads toward the door. More than a fair assessment, Eddie can’t argue even if he wanted to (he always does).

He stares at the line of posters along his wall, letting Chrissy’s words replay over and over. Imagining what it might have felt like. If Steve’s breath was warm or if his lips were soft. Eddie wonders how it looked to have Steve dipping down to his level. Staying so quiet, so careful not to disturb him. The visuals swarm his head until there’s nothing left but Steve.

Him and Steve. Connecting them together in that way after all.

So, Eddie gets up and walks back into the living room. He takes in the view of Steve curled up in the recliner, mouth slightly parted open. Chest falling with every sniffle, not quite a snore.

There’s so many emotions while looking at him. Eddie can’t just pin one down to fully comprehend what's going on. All he can do is repeat the scene that’s occupying his mind, settling in his bones.

“Here,” he whispers, placing another blanket across Steve’s lap. It’s feathery gentle, more than he intends for it to be. So gentle that Steve doesn’t shift or stir.

Eddie takes a deep breath and bends down, close enough to notice all the little details. The ones he’s been too sheepish to indulge in before last night.

The tiny hairs on Steve’s forearm. The creases in his t-shirt. The bit of dried toothpaste on his chin. None of it should make his cheeks feel this flushed, but they do.

He lets the rush of bravery wash through him as he kisses Steve on the tip of his nose. Just the way Steve must’ve done to him. It’s swift, lighter than he means for it to be. Barely touching. But it’s enough to switch his heart rate up a few notches, pulsing jumping in his wrist.

Eddie steps away, waiting to see if Steve wakes up. Not entirely sure if he wants that or if he’d rather keep this memory to himself.

“Thanks… by the way.” Eddie adds, brushing the tips of his fingers over Steve’s hand. Wishing he could trace the lines in his palm. Rewind back to last night and pause it there indefinitely. “I’ll tell you again when you’re up, but yeah.”

“Thank you, Steve Harrington.”

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #slight buckingham because I said so #lexssummerfanworkschallenge #biggest of shoutouts to lex for giving us this space to create and share together!!!#is the sleep depravation making Eddie good at flirting???#or is it all in his overactive imagination???#the world may never know #also Eddie is wearing one of Robin's shirts bc he never does laundry #that's not relevant - it's just a brainworm that he ironically wears her marching band tees #okay okay pls enjoy 💖#(and pretend I'm in a timezone where it's still August pls)

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knightfcll · 9 months

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nightcap

welt x reader, 1.6k

note: 🤪 im like not even caught up but i love this gilf tew much okay bye. My first reader fic on da blog, blease be nice 2 me <3

content notes: ❗️❗️🔞🔞🔞❗️❗️ explicit smut here, minors do NOT interact!!! Reader is gender neutral, no specific references to pronouns/body type/genitalia for reader, brief oral sex, penetrative sex, reader calls welt “mr yang” a lot 🥴

The Astral Express is quiet. You've finally returned after another long and difficult journey on another strange, new planet. Everyone else has retired to their own rooms for a well deserved rest, but you still wander the halls. Mr. Yang had stayed behind for this assignment and to say that you felt his absence was an understatement.

You had lasted all of five minutes in your own bed before throwing off the covers and deciding to seek him out. Without the exhaustion of adventure weighing him down, he's likely still awake, perhaps poring over a newspaper from your latest excursion. You make sure to bring one back for him if he's not there; he says it's so he can get a better idea of what effect the Stellaron's had on the planet, but you see how quickly he turns to the comic strips. You'll catch him doodling the characters later, sometimes changing their features, doing two and three different sketches that he thinks you won't see.

You're only half right. You find him almost exactly as you'd imagined when you slip into his room, except his brows are furrowed. He's tapping a pencil against the paper.

“Need any help, Mr. Yang?”

He looks at you briefly before returning to his crossword puzzle. "Evening. And yes."

You smile and saunter towards him, crawling onto the bed eagerly. He opens his arms without prompting, allowing you to settle into his lap with your back to his chest. He has most of it filled out already, with only the bottom left grid glaringly empty. Mr. Yang is one of the smartest people, which is why you like to tease him when he has to ask you for help with these things, but he's also the most mature, which accounts for the good natured chuckle you typically get in response.

"What's the clue?"

"Eight letters. 'Hot term for a recent admirer.'"

You make a show of scrunching up your face and delicately take the pencil from him. Your handwriting isn't quite as neat as his, but finds a certain charm in it.

Welt hums appreciatively. "'New flame.' I think you could be right."

You beam. "Bested by the newcomer, Mr. Yang. You'll have to ask me to explain strange things out in the wild next time we leave the Express."

He chuckles. He thinks it's cute when you try to tease him like this; you're all bark and no bite, really. You fold as soon as he gets his hands on you.

Like right now, as his fingers ghost over your thigh. You lean into it as much as you can, but he's so good at holding back. It's the sweet sting of having someone like Welt for a lover: a wealth of experience to keep you satisfied for hours on end, but the patience and precision needed to keep you just on edge until he thinks you're ready.

"Did you need something?" He says it so casually, like he doesn't know your skin is burning underneath him.

You turn your head to look at him. It's there again, that little bit of sharpness in his gaze that seems to go right through you. He's already thinking about all the ways he can unmake you.

"Just you," you say, waiting the precious few moments it takes for the spark to ignite.

Welt kisses you, softly at first. His hands roam over your thighs, just ghosting underneath your sleep shorts. You whine the third time he does it, unable to handle the loss of his touch. He pulls away.

“Patience.”

You pout. He notices everything. “I’m not impatient.”

He humphs in disbelief. “Don’t make a sound until I tell you to.”

Any other night, you might protest his rigidity. Be the brat he likes you to be, until you’re a sobbing mess in hands, begging him to just fuck you and stop teasing. Tonight, however, you’re inclined towards obedience. You hush up and wait the agonizing few moments that he waits, watching for any sign of defiance. Satisfied, he kisses you again, hungrier this time, sliding his tongue over yours. You hold back a moan when he digs his fingers into your thighs.

Welt pushes you down. He trails his lips down your body, over your chest, your sensitive nipples. He halts just below your belly button, kissing the skin lightly while he pulls down your shorts. You shiver once your exposed to the cool air.

Anticipation burns inside you when he pulls your leg up and over his shoulder. He slowly teases your entrance with his tongue, giving it slow, featherlight licks that he soon follows up with a finger.

“Mr. Yang,” you say, unable to resist calling out as he speeds up.

He doesn’t respond, choosing to punish you instead by letting up. He knows it’s agony, feeling his warm breath on you where you need him most.

It’s too much. You give up on obedience and let desperation take hold as you grab at welt’s shoulders and pull him in to kiss you. Your taste lingers on his tongue. “Mr. Yang, please…“

Welt palms at your ass. It’s a nice reminder that he’s far more affected by you than he typically comes off. Although his words are often measured and his tone even, the way he touches you is nothing short of ravenous.

“Tell me what you need, sweetheart.”

You’re on the brink of tears now. Your legs are locked around his hips, his fingers are rubbing and pinching your nipple. He knows, but he likes to make you say it. “Mr. Yang, please, please,”

He doesn’t budge. You reach for the drawstring on his pants yourself, but he grabs your hand and brings it to his mouth instead. “You can speak, can’t you? Use your words.”

You watch as he pulls your finger into his mouth, sucking on it lightly. He’ll keep going, ignoring your pleas while he toys with you long past the rising of the sun. He’s done it before.

You draw a shaky breath.

“Mr. Yang, I need you inside me.”

You wait for his response. He almost looks bored, that half-awake look he gets when he’s quizzing you on the values of each Aeon with hands roaming across your chest.

He kisses your palm. “Keep going.”

“Welt,” his given name falls from your lips, a strained whisper that sets Welt on edge, “please fuck me, I can’t take it anymore, please.“

Welt lets go of your hand. He disentangles himself from you fully, ignoring your desperate whines. You hear his pants fall to the floor and then he’s hovering over you again, sliding a hand under your shoulder.

“Turn around.”

You hear him, but you’re too distracted by the sight of his weeping cock to really pay attention. He sighs and gently lifts you, maneuvering you so you’re on your hands and knees with your back to him.

Tears of relief fall down your face when Welt drapes himself over your back. You feel him lining himself up with your entrance. You shudder when he finally enters you. His grip on your waist tightens. He lets his cock stay sheathed in you for an agonizing moment before he pulls out and starts to set a rhythm. The slow friction stirs something in Welt; he lets go of your waist and covers your hand with his own. He curses above you and moves in closer, his breath warm against the shell of your ear.

“I want to hear you. Please,” Welt gasps. It makes your heart skip.

You call out to him, moaning his name in a quiet voice that gets louder and louder as his thrusts quicken. Your words become more frantic, endless declarations of how much you need him interrupted by broken sobs of pleasure. Welt speaks your name, too, in between ragged breaths and the rapid stuttering of his hips, curses falling from his lips in a constant prayer.

“Mr. Yang,” you say, because you know how his breathing stops when you call him that, just like the first time it did when he had you on your knees in his bedroom, “Mr. Yang, I love you.”

Welt’s final thread of composure snaps. He hooks his arm around your throat and buried his face in your neck. His hips slap against you harder than before, but he still has the presence of mind to reach down and tease you one last time to put you over the edge. Waves of ecstasy roll through as you give one final, strangled shout.

Welt follows soon after, his thrusts becoming increasingly erratic until he buries himself to the hilt and groans deep into your skin. You both slump forward, breathing heavily. He kisses your neck sloppily before finally pulling out with a sigh. He pulls you once to get you to clean up, but you don’t budge, a telltale look of bliss on your face. He gives up and leaves you, returning with clean cloths to wipe you down. You watch him from the corner of your eye as he flips you onto your back and takes care of you.

“Thanks, Welt.”

He smiles softly, but doesn’t look at you, focused on his task. He climbs back into the bed once he’s done, flat on his back. You lean over and rest your head on his chest.

Exhaustion weighs you down suddenly. Even though you left the mission early to see Welt, the trip back to the express hadn’t been easy. It feels like you’ll drift off into sleep as soon as you close your eyes. So you do, but not before reaching up to kiss Welt just under his chin.

#welt yang x reader #welt x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #welt yang smut #honkai star rail smut #hsr smut #writing tag

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wintervalewritersecond · 1 year

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siren song ||| - xavier thorpe

requested: yes! requests: open! siren song part three!

part one, part two click here for my masterlist

A/N: thank you so much for the overwhelming love! i never expected this to blow up, but i couldn't have done it without the person also requesting this! thank you all and i hope you enjoy the next chapter <3 like last time it picks up immediately where the other chapter ended! let me know what you think and enjoy! <3

wordcount: 4,581 warnings: she/her reader, some cursing, sad xavier

Ajax tells Xavier about what happened. Xavier takes everything into his own hands, which may or may not include sneaking into your room. He finds out the truth.

Ajax awkwardly lets out a laugh. He had a list with answers in his head with a correct response to it, but this one was not on the list.

"What do you mean? Xavier. Your best friend?"

You furrow your brows, shaking your head. The name 'Xavier' is not extremely common, definitely not in a small town like Jericho. Besides, you would know your own best friends, right?

"Ajax, I think you have been smoking too much. I know no one by the name of Xavier."

He looks at you like you have grown an extra head. Are you joking right now, or are you dead serious? You look just as confused as him, and you aren't really the best actress. It is already hard for you to keep a birthday gift a secret, so acting as if someone does not exist at all would be impossible.

"I- What?" The Gorgon shakes his head. "I might be wrong then. Don't worry about it."

The two of you return to your own tasks. You are still doing your Botany homework while Ajax sits and stares off into nothingness.

His head is a jumbled mess. Do you really not remember your best friend? Xavier told him what happened, but he wanted to hear it from you as well. Not that he thought Xavier was lying about what he had said, but just because he wanted to make sure you were doing okay.

It was truly strange, though. Yes, you had a big fight with Xavier, but ignoring someone and forgetting someone is a whole other fact. Not to mention that you didn't even so much react to the name.

Xavier needs to hear this.

"Dude!"

Ajax runs through the door as Xavier lets out a yelp, dropping his pencil to the floor. It's late at night already, does he not realize most people are sleeping already?

"Ajax, you can't just burst in at eleven pm?! You're lucky I don't have a roommate anymore-"

"Listen," he closes the door behind him, sitting down on the empty bed that once belonged to Rowan while catching his breath. "Dude, I wouldn't be here if it wasn't important. "

Xavier picks up the pencil from the ground, placing it on his sketchbook before closing it. The sketch was of you. For the last few weeks, he has drawn nothing other than you. Memories he has with you, things you have done together, and even only some half-finished sketches.

"What could possibly be so important right now-"

"Y/N forgot about you."

Xavier straightens his back, his eyes big as he looks at his friend. He has to be kidding right?

"That can't be," Xavier lets out a breathy laugh. "I would have expected her to ignore me, yes, but how can she forget me?"

"I thought she was kidding at first. I asked her what happened at the Rave'n and she said nothing about it," Ajax rolls off of the bed, pacing around the room. "And I thought that the fight would be something she would mention. Then I asked specifically what happened between you and her, but all she asked was 'Who is Xavier?'!"

The boy is at a loss for words. It is like every single word is pulled out of his head, replaced by a pounding headache.

"Are you sure? She- She is not the best actress, was it really not fake?"

Ajax shakes his head, breathing in deeply before rubbing his hands on his face.

"Nothing. Nada. If you even got close to guessing what a gift was going to be she would always immediately tell us, right? She didn't even flinch when I said your name. And then she told me she has never, ever met someone with the name Xavier."

The Gorgon places a hand on his friend's shoulder, slightly squeezing it before letting go again. Neither of them has any idea of what to do.

"I'll just try again," Xavier whispers. "Worst case scenario is that she genuinely doesn't want to talk again. I- Thank you, Ajax."

"Take it easy, okay?"

After a goodbye he exits the room, leaving the artist stuck in his own dorm. Only he and his thoughts. Thoughts seem to be racing through his head as his heart is pounding against his chest. He was a total asshole, but he just hopes that you still hear him out.

"Hey, Bianca?"

The Siren had placed herself on your bed, flipping through a magazine. The room had been quiet for a bit, only the sound of your laptop, pages flipping, and the soft instrumental music in the background. Bianca hums, looking up from the paper.

"I was in the library with Ajax," you slowly say, your leg bouncing up and down. "And... He said something really weird."

Fuck.

She should have known that Xavier and Ajax were going to be up to something. It's not like she didn't notice Xavier trying to talk to you. He tactically counted the seconds on when he should stand up just to be close to you, even bump into you if he had to. But the Song made it so you kept your distance.

A pen floats in front of your face as you try to distract yourself. You didn't use your telekinesis a lot, but your mind has not been on your laptop anyway.

"Oh?" Bianca raises her eyebrows.

"Yeah," you mumble before suddenly turning around on your chair, facing your friend. "Who is Xavier?"

"Xavier?"

You nod as the pen behind you falls back on your desk. You have not been able to get the name out of your head, repeating it over and over again to try and find some memory attached to him.

Bianca bites her cheeks. Is she to tell you? Or should it be kept a secret? Before the Siren Song, you did not really talk about it. But Bianca wouldn't hold the truth from you. She only wants to protect you from him, something you consented to.

"Xavier is," Bianca hesitates. "A student here at Nevermore. He did something incredibly stupid and dumb."

"Do I know him?"

She doesn't want to cause you any distress. She can say no, but then once the Siren Song breaks, it would only be worse. If she says yes, then you might go seeking answers.

"You used to."

Bianca didn't say much more after that. In a way, she was completely honest. She did tell you that you used to know him, but you had made your intentions very clear. Forget about Xavier and just have a moment of peace and quiet to yourself. It had worked for weeks now, yet Xavier doesn't feel like he has changed one bit.

During class, he still tries to get your attention, but Kent and Bianca are quick to shut him down. Kent doesn't know about the Siren Song, though. No, if he did, then the entire school would have heard it already. He just thinks that you want to stay out of Xavier's way, still mad because of the fight. It is true, in a way.

You were quiet the entire day. Not quite sulking, but you were thinking. Why is it that you can't recall anything about him? You even sneak some glances at the long-haired boy. He seems... Miserable. His eyes are dark, his eyebrows are stuck in a frown, and his hair is just messily placed in a small bun. He does not look bad, but just upset.

Even during lunch, you didn't really say a word. You insisted that you just needed some time and that your social battery was dead. But Bianca knew you were thinking about Xavier. If he just had not pulled this, everything would have been fine. She hasn't heard anyone talk about a Siren Song though, so he doesn't know the truth just yet.

Another few days go by before it is finally Friday again. For the entire week, Xavier had been trying to talk to you, but you have always hurried away from him. Not to mention that especially Bianca and Kent almost formed a wall around you. But Xavier also isn't the person to start drama in the entire Quad. So he waited. Patiently waited. During this time, he came up with a plan. Was it smart? Probably not. But this was the only time he could talk to you.

It is well after ten, which meant that everyone had to stay in their dorms. But Xavier had other ideas. He had sneaked out, running through the halls and out into the side of Nevermore. Your balcony had a fire escape, one that he used quite often to sneak in or out when he would hear Thornhill coming. It is a bit too dangerous to walk through those halls right now, especially considering he might wake people up. He doesn't have the patience to take his time right now, wanting to reach you as fast as possible.

He runs up the long flight of stairs, catching his breath once he finally reaches the top. He thought that running would make this a bit easier, but it doesn't seem to work too well. Your window is similar as to the one in Enid and Wednesday's dorm. It has the same spiderweb-like pattern, though yours is missing the colorful stickers on it.

Your side of the room is decorated with lots of smaller lights. The lightbulbs in the Nevermore lights seem to be dim, and you always insisted that the smaller lights looked more fun anyway. He stands in front of the window, trying to look through the glass.

"Y/N? Are you in there?"

Nothing. At least, no response from you. He can hear the clicking of your keyboard.

"I know you're still mad at me," he says again. "And I totally understand it. I have been wanting to talk to you, but Bianca and Kent always stand between us."

Nothing, again.

He looks behind him to make sure no one followed him before he pushes the bottom of the window, opening it before sneaking in.

There you sit.

It is like this is the first time he has ever seen you. At least, it feels like it. You are sitting with your back towards him, your head moving to the music that sounds through the headphones on your head. It was a gift that Xavier had gotten you for your birthday.

You had been planning to buy a new one for a while, but it was hard to save up money. So, he decided to go with you to the closest store to try some out. You had fallen in love with these, but they were quite expensive. So, as you had already walked out of the store, Xavier had quickly paid for them, hiding them in his backpack before giving them to you on your birthday.

You were even wearing his burgundy-colored t-shirt. You must remember him then, right? He slowly walks over to you, tapping you on your shoulder before he aggressively gets thrown against a wall. Ouch.

You turned around in shock, seeing the boy pinned against the wall.

"Oh!" You exclaim, immediately releasing him from your invisible grip. "I'm sorry-"

You squint at him, raising an eyebrow.

"Wait a second," you point at him. "There are no boys allowed in Ophelia Hall. And definitely, no boys that I don't know!"

Xavier stands back up, a pained expression on his face before he shakes his head.

"I just needed to talk to you for a sec, and you know what happened the last time Thornhill saw me in the halls."

Actually, you didn't.

"You have never been in my room."

You stand opposite the tall boy, looking him up and down. He feels familiar to you, and you are guessing that this is the 'Xavier' that Ajax and Bianca had mentioned. He licks his lips before letting out a deep breath.

"Look, Y/N, I know that you are still mad at me, but-"

"The only reason why I would be mad is because a stranger randomly showed up in my dorm room!"

His shoulders slump as he looks at you. Not one part of you recognizes him.

"Well, ever since the Rave'n and the fight we haven't spoken. I know that I was very, very wrong for doing that to you and you deserve much better," he runs his hands through his hair. "But I really need to apologize."

"Xavier, is it?" You awkwardly laugh. "I think you are mistaken. I don't recall seeing you at the dance, much less having a fight. I'm sorry?"

Should you say sorry? Surely he must recognize the person he had a fight with, and it wasn't you. His heart slowly chips away at itself, less and less connected to each other once he truly realizes you don't remember him.

"You truly don't remember, do you?"

His voice breaks a bit as he starts fiddling with his hands. You look up at the boy, feeling quite bad for him. He does look truly confused and stressed.

"No," you grimace. "Sorry. Truly."

"Nothing? Not even from the Rave'n or- or before that?"

"Everything I remember from the Rave'n is dancing, drinking some of those weird, blue drinks, and then that disgusting paint drenching everyone. After that, I just went to my dorm to try and get all of that out of my clothes and hair." You shrug, still looking up at him. "The only thing I did after, was hanging out with Bianca and sleeping."

There really is not one bit of you that remembers him. Or, you have just become a really good actress overnight. He did really hurt you, but he didn't think you would actually forget him. Xavier pulls on his scarf, coughing awkwardly as he nods.

"Yeah, okay."

"I'm really sorry, Xavier," you look at your window which is still slightly open. "Look, you are very pretty and you must also be super nice, but I think it is better if you leave. I hope you find the person you were looking for."

He nods silently, climbing back out of the window before descending the stairs, not once looking back.

The way back through Nevermore is slower. He doesn't feel the need to hurry anymore. Ajax was absolutely right. There was not one memory of Xavier left in you. Not even when you see him up close, when you smell the perfume he always wears, not even when you wear one of his shirts that he left behind.

Did a witch cast a spell on you, leaving you without any memories of him? There are witches at Nevermore, so it isn't unlikely. But how can it be that you remember everyone except for him? Ajax, Wednesday, Kent, Bianca-

Bianca.

If you recall going to the girl after the Rave'n, then that must be the whole reason why you forgot about Xavier.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he groans, picking up his pace before sneaking into the dorms where Bianca sleeps.

He should have known it. Bianca and you had gotten closer after he screamed at you, but he thought it was because you needed someone to talk to. After all, he turned to Ajax to talk about his problems. But, Bianca has one thing that not a lot of others at Nevermore have; the Siren Song.

He doesn't want to accuse her of having used it, the last time it ended badly. But he does want to know if she had anything to do with it.

Once he reaches Bianca's dorm, he knocks on the door. Not softly, either. He doesn't care if someone sees him now.

The Siren opens the door, an annoyed look on her face which turns even more annoyed when she sees Xavier. She expected him to show up sooner or later, and today was finally the moment.

"Do you not realize that it's almost twelve?" She raises an eyebrow.

"Just let me in," he groans.

Xavier is not here to play games. He wants, no, needs the truth. He needs to hear it, because if it isn't the Song, then he doesn't know what else it could be. Bianca steps to the side, closing the door behind him before crossing her arms.

"What do you want, Xavier?"

"Did you use your Siren Song on Y/N?"

"Why would I tell you?" She raises an eyebrow.

She just walks past him, back to sitting on her bed and scrolling through her phone. Xavier only stares at her, at a loss for words.

"I'm serious, Bianca. Just give me a yes or a no."

"Hm," she hums. "Sucks, doesn't it?"

The boy stays quiet, only looking at the girl. Please, just a simple answer. That is all he needs.

"To be completely ignored by someone you like?" She stands back up with a smirk on her face, throwing her phone on her bed before stepping closer to Xavier. "That, no matter how hard you try, she doesn't even bat an eye at you? Much less say your name?"

"What do you mean?" He grits his teeth. "Just give me an answer."

A smirk is still on her face as she shrugs. She has no need to tell him. Besides, he deserves it. He deserves to suffer, just in the same way you did. No matter how much she believes he has feelings for you; he has to find it out himself.

"Come on, Xavier," she lets out a sigh. "I will not help you if you don't get your head out of your ass."

"Bianca, please."

She takes a good look at the guy in front of her. He might be extremely stupid, but she can't help but feel bad for him. Yes, he is the entire reason that you had felt bad for weeks, and though she still thinks that he has to learn a lesson, he might need the truth.

"Fine," the Siren grits her teeth. "After the Rave'n, she came to my room. Like, right after your fight. Asked me to use my Siren Song and I told her that I would think about it."

She steps away from Xavier, pulling the piece of paper that you had previously signed out of her desk drawer.

"Then I saw how miserable she looked and how much you ignored her," Bianca points at Xavier, holding up the piece of paper. "So, with Y/N's permission, I used it."

This was everything he was scared of. He knew he was wrong, he knew he had to make things right, but he had no idea how bad he had gotten.

"You have to undo it, Bianca. I'm serious."

"Why?" She raises an eyebrow. "So you can go ahead and break her heart again by hanging out with the psycho?"

"No!" He exclaims, running his hands through his hair while letting out a sigh. "So I can make it up to her! I just-"

He paces around the room, fiddling with his fingers and pulling on his scarf. He still had not discarded his winter jacket, he simply couldn't be bothered.

"I really like her, Bianca."

"Then tell me why you ignored her."

Xavier doesn't have one reason. It might be because he truly believed you didn't like him back, he could have been too insecure, maybe because he got pulled into Wednesday's theories about some monster, or maybe he was just a total asshole.

It stays quiet for a good minute. Bianca then just places the paper back in its original place, leaning against her desk before looking up at the boy.

"I'll ask her," she mumbles. "I'm not promising you anything. I only do this because I know she likes you. You better get your shit together, Xavier. Now, get out of my dorm."

It was Saturday which meant that you went to Jericho. This time, you went with Enid, Wednesday, and Bianca. You and Enid tried to keep some distance between Wednesday and Bianca, knowing they aren't best friends. Even though Jericho is not a big town, it still has enough little stores to explore.

At one point, Enid had dragged Bianca with her, leaving you together with Wednesday outside of Weathervane. You sat on the little bench, just in silence as Wednesday was reading a book and you were sketching in a small little notebook.

"I want to ask you a question."

You look up from your sketch, looking at Wednesday.

"Sure!"

"What happened between you and Xavier?"

You raise an eyebrow, shrugging.

"I don't know why everyone keeps asking that. Nothing, I think?"

Wednesday doesn't seem to believe it. She has an eye for lies, not to mention that she is talented at finding out the truth. Most of the time, that is.

"You can not believe that that will fool me. Xavier has only been sulking for the last few weeks. He is living up to the whole tortured artist thing."

"Well, I hope he gets better soon. But I had nothing to do with it, Wednesday. Really."

"What are you girls talking about?"

Enid suddenly jumps out, a big smile on her face as she holds a small bag.

"Nothing," Wednesday shakes her head before closing her book. "Let's go back. These Jericho people make me want to throw up."

You take your shopping bags upstairs as Bianca follows you. The two of you were going to go through everything you bought. After all the bags had been emptied and all the items were tried on again, Bianca speaks up.

"I have to talk to you about something."

What is it with everyone suddenly being so serious?

"If it is about Xavier, I truly don't know what happened. He showed up in my room, insisted on apologizing for a fight that never happened, and then left again."

"It did," Bianca grimaces. "You don't remember what you asked from me?"

You slowly shake your head. You can't really think of anything at this moment. The only thing you feel is confusion. You hadn't known anything about Xavier before you finally heard his name when he sneaked into your room.

Bianca looks at you before nodding, breathing in deeply. She has to tell you; you might have changed your mind.

"You used to know Xavier. Really well, actually."

Question marks almost appear above your head.

"He... kind of ignored you for a few weeks," Bianca looks at you. "Then stood you up again at the Rave'n. You asked me to use a Siren Song on you."

You are at a loss for words. The poor boy had spent weeks being miserable for something you didn't even remember. But, from what you understand, he had done something horrible to you too.

"Okay," you just whisper, nodding your head. "So... For a few weeks now?"

"Yeah," Bianca takes the folded piece of paper out of her pocket, handing it to you. "This is what we agreed on. I just... Wanted to check in on what your thoughts are now. You didn't really let me know about the Song ending in any way, even though we both aren't sure if it'll work."

It stays quiet for a moment as you read the letter over and over. You try hard to remember it, but it just doesn't come back up. Nothing. Nothing about Xavier, nothing about the Song, not even the good memories you had with him.

"Do you think anything changed?"

Bianca looks at you as you hold out the piece of paper to her.

"What do you mean?"

"Xavier," you mumble. "Did anything change? The Song wasn't for nothing, right? If I really used to be best friends with him..."

Did he? He did spend weeks in his art studio, sketching every single memory he had of you with him. He tried to map out exactly when to run into you, He had even broken rules to apologize to you, finally getting his jumbled thoughts straight.

"I think he did. He is well on his way. I might have tried to set him straight," she lets out a laugh. "I told him he had to get his shit together. He really cares about you, but he just doesn't know how to deal with it."

"He might need some therapy," you shake your head. "I feel like it has been long enough, right?"

"You want to undo the Song?"

You nod, sitting down on your bed while looking up at her.

"Maybe he didn't mean it. I don't remember a lot about him, it's like I have only seen him vaguely in a dream or in the background of a picture. I trust him."

"Okay," she nods, "Let's try this. But, I am not too sure if it will work."

The least you could do is try, right?

"What do you think about... 'Remember Xavier from then to now, it is no question as to how. The Siren Song will now end, old memories will now again blend.'? You will remember everything from now on top of your old memories. I hope."

"Let's do it."

The amulet gets removed from her neck as she looks at you with a gentle smile on her face. She truly does wish you the best.

"Remember Xavier from then to now, it is no question as to how. The Siren Song will now end, old memories will start to blend."

Nothing.

It stays quiet for a few seconds before you look up at Bianca who is placing the amulet around her neck again.

"Is it supposed to work immediately?"

She looks you up and down.

"Usually, yes... You don't have your memories back?"

You slowly shake your head.

"Absolutely nothing."

This is exactly what Bianca feared. Though you knew the risk was there, it still was extremely disappointing that it couldn't be changed.

"What if I start over? If Xavier and I became friends once, we might become friends again, right?"

"That is something you need to decide yourself," Bianca takes her bag in her hands. "Do what you are most comfortable with. My input? It might be worth it."

A smile is on her face as she turns around to walk out of your dorm, pausing for a second before looking back at you.

"Xavier is a good guy. Genuinely. He just needs a little push sometimes."

Xavier had finally laid down on his bed, his hair still wet from the shower. He had taken the hottest shower ever, trying to get his mind off of things, yet it didn't work. He was back to sketching all he could remember of you. All pages up to now were filled with your face.

When his phone buzzes, he feels like he wants to throw it around the room. He is not in the mood to talk to anyone, but he had to turn on his alarm still anyway. The light of the phone is extremely bright as he squints his eyes, trying to shield himself from the brightness. But his eyes fly open when he sees the notification that made him grab the phone in the first place.

Y/N ♡

hi xavier! could we talk soon? let me know when you have time :)

He can not believe his eyes. He immediately sits back up, typing on his phone like crazy. With shaking hands, he finally sends you a response.

xav!

yeah! any time tomorrow?

He nervously stares at his screen, seeing the notification of your typing pop up.

Y/N ♡

sure! some relaxing before the visiting week, haha :) see you tomorrow!

------------------------

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#xavier thorpe imagine #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe oneshot #xavier thorpe #wednesday imagine #wednesday oneshot #wednesday netflix #siren song #request

2K notes · View notes

luveline · 10 months

Note

Since we’ve seen zombie au with Steve may we have a little something of vampire!eddie?

Sorry I don’t have any sort of plot in mind, I just think vampire!eddie is cool :)

thank u for your request! vampire!eddie x ditzy!reader

"Eddie," you say, in that meandering way you do, like talking is a pastime with no urgent goal at the end, "one of your friends is in the bathroom."

Eddie blinks, the spoon in his hand quickly put back into the bowl of cereal it had risen from. "What?"

"One of your friends is in the bathroom," you say, and only now does he notice you have soap all over your face. Suds in your brows and the baby hairs of your hairline, across the soft hill of your chin and at your nostrils.

"Baby, you've half-washed your face. Come here."

You sit at the dining table beside him and Eddie sets to work, one hand on your thigh, the other your face as he dabs the soap away with his hoodie sleeve. Your eyes flutter closed at his gentle touches. Eddie feels satisfaction in knowing you trust him to be so close while you're unguarded. You've never been scared of him, but Eddie is scary. He can hear your heart slow as he finishes, and that's when he wonders why it had been beating quickly to begin with.

He tries not to listen to your heart. It plagues him when he's hungry, and it feels like a strange invasion of privacy. "Sorry, it's freaky, but I can hear your heart–"

"Sorry for what?" you ask.

Eddie shakes his head fondly and chucks you under the chin. He wants to go back to his cereal, but he continues, "What has your pulse up?"

"I told you, baby, there's a friend in the bathroom."

Eddie knows better than to expect an explanation. He puts his bowl of cereal in front of you in case you're hungry, kisses the top of your head, and goes to investigate the bathroom.

Eddie's shocked as he opens the door. The bathroom is in extreme disarray, which isn't unusual for you typically but he cleaned it last night, and you may be scatterbrained but you don't often leave the faucet blasting hot water full pelt. He turns it off, collects the pile of tipped laundry on the floor, and wonders how best to ask you if you're feeling alright when he notices something alarmingly large. Your soapy face is explained, as well as your quick-beating heart. You must've seen what he's seeing and run away.

"Holy fuck," he says, flinching back hard into washing machine. "Holy fuck! What the fuck is that?"

"So you've found your friend?" you ask from the hallway.

Eddie scrambles sideways out of the bathroom and into the hall with you, almost knocking the bowl of cereal clean from your hands. "That thing is not my friend."

"What? I thought you liked spiders, they subsist off of the same kinds of things," you murmur, a little drop of milk at the corner of your mouth. You lick it away absentmindedly.

"A spider could slap my ass and hand me a cheque for a million bucks and I still wouldn't like him," Eddie denies, peering into the bathroom cautiously. The Spider had been hanging down from a web and nearly as big as Eddie's hand. He's not making friends with that. "And how about you, huh? I thought you liked spiders? You keep enough of them."

Sometimes you'll keep a spider inside of a mason jar for artistic purposes, sketching them before setting them free. "Yeah, Eds, I like spiders," you say around your spoon, "not tarantulas."

He waves a hand at you, vaguely irritated. You giggle and offer him a spoonful of cereal, which he accepts. The two of you stand and chew with your backs against the bannister, staring at the bathroom door. Too afraid to look away, and too afraid to go back inside.

"Wanna seal it off?" he asks eventually, morosely, knowing he's not brave enough to go and deal with it.

"Yes." You scrape the bottom of the bowl with the spoon. "We could call Steve?"

"I'm not calling Steve."

"Okay. Hey, this could be good for us. Peeing outside connects you to nature, or something."

Eddie sighs and rubs his pale face. He's way too hungry to deal with this, for both cereal and something less family friendly. He can't tell you, though. You keep offering to let him bite you. "Alright," he sighs. "I'll call Harrington."

"Then you'll have two friends in the bathroom," you say, nearly to yourself as you begin down the stairs, "like a party. I'll go make you some more cereal."

"Thanks, sweetheart," Eddie says with a relieved laugh, closing the bathroom door and drawing a cross against the woodgrain.

He doesn't notice the shadow of his definitely-not-friend as it squeezes under the doorway.

438 notes · View notes

cherryredstars · 4 months

Text

Pairing: Miles-42 x gn!reader

Warnings: Fluff, Sneaking Out, Slight Angst

Summary: One of the rare moments his job doesn't keep him away.

A/N: PG version of this request.

Word Count: 1.6K (Unedited)

You were full of doubt.

When Miles had sat with you at lunch, showing you the sketches in his notebook, you hadn’t expected him to ask if you were free tonight. He was always busy lately. Ever since last year, his new job afterschool kept his nights occupied with barely any energy to get through the school day. You were constantly worried that he was overworking himself, maybe his coping method to get his mind off of his dad, but he always reassured you he was fine with a kiss to your cheek.

Of course you were delighted when he asked. It felt like forever since the two of you went on a date or spent time together outside of school. The two of you tried, obviously, but then he would have to cancel. Something coming up with his mom or his uncle or his job. More often than not, it was his job. Of course, it made you sad, but you can never resent him for it. You know how tight money is for his family now that his dad is gone. He had confided in you about how it pained him to see his mom so exhausted with balancing expenses, a kid, and overtime.

But, you had said yes. Nodding at him when he told you that he’ll pick you up at nine. Now, it was 9:15, and no Miles. You looked down at your outfit, picking at a thread in your ripped jeans as you laid in your bed. Waiting. Just waiting. You sighed deeply, an inkling of disappointment settling in your chest as you checked your phone again. 9:17.

The sound of someone tapping at your window made you scream. You turned to look at it quickly, relaxing when you saw Miles. He gave you a lazy smile as he crouched on your fire escape, motioning for you to unlock the window. You walk over with a glare, opening the window for him.

“Hey, babe. Parents asleep?”

You huff and nod, crossing your arms over your chest as you raise an eyebrow at him. “You’re late, Miles. And you scared me, dipshit”

Miles chuckles at the name calling before giving you an apologetic smile. He reaches his hand out for you. You look at it before sighing, grabbing it and letting him lead you outside. Once you’re out, he closes the window behind you and stands up. He wraps his arms around your hips loosely, taking your arms and throwing them over his shoulders. He sways the both of you slightly as he looks down at you. He leans in, nudging your temple with his nose as he takes in your scent. The smell of your shampoo is strong, hinting at the shower you took when you got home. He presses a kiss to your forehead, pulling away slightly so he can talk.

“I know, I know, m’sorry. Ma came home with some groceries, had to help her put’em away first.” He explains gently, his thumbs rubbing at your hips.

You melt into his touch. You weren’t really mad at him in the first place, but now you definitely can’t be. Miles has always been a good son, a complete mommy’s boy. You love that about him. How caring he is towards everyone. He always puts others before him. Just like his dad does… did.

“It’s okay.” You smile when he nudges into you again, mumbling a ‘hm, thank you baby’. You laugh quietly, not wanting to wake your parents up.

You push his head away, walking past him and starting to climb down the rickety ladder. “C’mon dork. Let’s go.”

He gives you another slow smile, following after you with a shake of his head. The fire escape creaks as the two of you make your way down. The two of you have to jump three to four feet to land on the ground. You wait for Miles at the bottom, watching as he jumps down and wipes the flaked paint coating his hands onto his pants. After he does, he turns to you, grabbing your hand and running out of the alley. He looks both ways, stopping abruptly so you smash into his back. You slap his shoulder with a laugh, almost falling when he starts tugging at you again.

Even with his back turned to you, you know he’s sporting the same large smile you are. You laugh as he swerves the two of you between people on the sidewalk, the two of you snickering when a few people curse at you. Your laughter blends perfectly with the late New York traffic, honking and rushing wind filling your ears. You try to look over Miles’s shoulder, but it proves difficult to see through the crowd.

Miles only slows down when the two of you go into a side street. He pulls you into his side, an arm wrapped around your shoulders as you walk with him. He reaches up and fixes your hair for you. You lean into him, appreciating the warmth he radiates as he leads you down the empty street. You continue walking until you’re crossing the street and towards an old car lot. It’s full of old, broken down cars. A nice and quiet area with a ‘NO TRESPASSING’ sign on the chain link fence. No one enforces it, and Miles always reassured you that since his dad is a cop and he doesn’t damage any of the property, the two of you would be let off scot-free. You’ve been coming here with him since the two of you started dating in freshman year.

He walks ahead, finding where the fence breaks away easily. He holds it open for you, doing a stage bow as you pass him with a snort. He’s quick to follow after you, the fence rattling as it folds closed. The two of you beeline to your car. It’s a vintage car, a Chevrolet Impala in a bloody red-purple. The passangers’s side door is dented in with a broken handle, and the hood of the car is dented in with the sides sticking out. The interior is mostly fine besides peeling leather.

Once again, Miles opens the door for you, bringing you around to the driver’s side. You have to hunch over to get to the backseat, sitting down and shivering slightly as the cold material presses into you. Miles leaves the door open as he climbs in, a precaution to make sure the locking mechanism doesn’t act up and trap you guys inside. Once he makes it to the back, he opens his arms out to you, and you crawl over and settle against him. He lays on his back over the entire backseat, a foot on the floor so you can lay in his arms. Your head rests comfortably on his shoulder, your back to his front. His head leans on the door, and he rests his hands on your stomach so you can fidget with them.

You wiggle against him to get comfortable, a content sigh leaving you as you settle down. You turn your head to bury it in his neck, and he bends down to do the same. You can feel one of his braids tickling your shoulder and you smile.

“Missed you.” Miles mutters into your skin, kissing your shoulder. You hum in agreement, closing your eyes. “Ma misses you too. Said I should invite ya over su’time.”

“I’d like that.”

The car goes silent, the two of you just basking in each other’s embrace. His hands begin to fidget on your stomach, fingers ghosting up and down as he snuggles closer to you. After a while, the two of you talk in quiet whispers. It’s ridiculous since no one is around to hear you and the conversation isn’t about anything private. But it feels right, and you’re scared if you talk too loud the moment will end.

The two of you giggle about a story you’re telling. It happened last week in class, but you forgot to tell Miles about it. You only remembered because of something Miles said during the last topic.

“Oh my god, and then…” you cut yourself with a chuckle, picturing the next part of the retelling in your head. Miles smiles fondly down at you as you open your mouth again, “And then Gwen told him that he was a-”

This time you’re cut off by an aggressive vibrating. You stop short, smile slowly dropping as Miles curses. He shifts, leaning on one side to access his back pocket. You get off of him to make it easier, frowning as he curses again when he sees who’s calling. You already know who it is as he angrily shoves it in his pocket and gives you a sorry look.

Work.

“M’sorry, baby. Tha’ was-”

“Your job.” You finish for him with a small smile, tilting your head to the side.

He nods with a sigh reaching over to kiss you on the lips quickly. When he pulls away, he caresses your cheek softly, “You remember how to get home from here?”

You have to stop yourself from making a sour expression. Is it really that important that he can’t even walk you back home? You sigh as you nod, closing your eyes as Miles leans in and places a long kiss to your forehead. His own eyes are squeezed shut and he feels like shit for having to end this early. He rests his forehead against yours, swearing that he’ll make this up to you later. You mumble back a hollow ‘okay’. He gives you one last kiss before he climbs to the front seat and out of the car.

You watch through the windows of the car as he rounds the front, jogging towards the fence opening. He disappears from view, but you can hear the fence rustling. Then…. nothing. It’s quiet again and you’re all by yourself. You sigh loudly, leaning back until your head knocks into the door. You stare at the car’s ceiling as your mouth thins.

There’s that doubt and disappointment again. How fun.

263 notes · View notes

hazybisou · 1 year

Text

ONE CHANCE

fic

reader x mark estapa

summary: for weeks, mark has been trying to get y/n to go out with him but he always got a ‘no’. that all changes one night when she admits she’s developed feelings for him after a game.

a/n: literally i got like four drafts rn so have patience with your girl here

you had been sitting in the same spot for 43 minutes and 32 seconds but who’s counting? obviously, you were. as much as you enjoyed your intro to business course, you were tired and were just yearning to go to your apartment. the idea of lying in bed and doing nothing but binge-watch “New Girl” and cuddling up into your blanket was sounding very, very tempting to you. god wasn’t on your side today.

you finished up taking the final bit of notes you needed before you closed your notebook with a sigh of relief. there was approximately 12 minutes left of class and then you’d be free. to kill time you had begun to scroll through instagram.

at the beginning of the year, your professor had gone over the rules and expectations. one of them included how if you were to finish early, for the reminder of class you could just hang out till you were dismissed as long as you wouldn’t distract your peers.

eventually you got tired of instagram which is when you switched to doodling on the back of your notebook. it was quite relaxing actually. to be able to do whatever you pleased. in between classes, you has always loved going into the courtyard and sitting under a tree, whether it be listening to music or drawing, you had found that time to be peaceful. just like now.

in the midst of sketching a rose, you felt someone tap your shoulder. you turned your head and were met with four grinning faces: johnny druskinis, luca fantilli, luke hughes, and mark estapa. they were known around campus for playing for umich’s mens ice hockey team. to many, they were considered to be royalty, but to you? they were just a bunch of childish men who thought way too much of themselves. so what could they want with you?

“can i help you?” you asked, clearly annoyed with the situation already. the boys all looked at each other before they all spoke in unison, “yes.”

“okay…what is it that you need?”

mark was the first to speak, “for you to go out with me.”

silence.

you couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. why the hell would some guy you barely talked to ever would want to go out with you? it made no sense. the most you’ve ever spoken to him was during your first semester and it was only to ask if you could borrow a pencil. even then, he wasn’t this weird.

“you’re kidding, right?” you really hoped they were. you hoped that this was all some sick joke.

he just shook his head, “no, i’m not.”

you squinted you eyes at him before slowly turning around and getting back to you drawing.

the fours boys looked at each other once again before one of them asked, “sooo is that a yes?” it was luke.

you turned your upper body toward them. “why are you asking me to go on a date with you if we’ve barely ever talked?” it's a valid question. no one goes up to a girl they’ve never had an interaction with before and just blatantly asks them out. unless you’re a cocky son of a bitch but other than that it has never happened.

“well first of all, i think you’re a nice person and second of all, you’re cute. ” mark stated.

you just stared at him for a good minute before turning around again. you tried to convince yourself that, that last comment he made hadn’t made you blush, but you could feel your cheeks get hot. “no.”

mark’s eyebrows furrowed before he turned to his teammates, “what do i do now? she said no.” you were still able to hear them but blocked them out as you continued to sketch the petals of the rose.

“man i don’t know! i’ve never had a girl reject me before, what do you want me to tell you?!” luca whispered-shouted and mark just rolled his eyes before turning back to you.

he had leaned forward and was right at your ear. “oh cmon, i’m not that bad of a person.”

you put your pencil down and just stared ahead before answering. “my answer’s still no,” you turned your head and that’s when you realized how close you were. you couldn’t help but feel the heat creep up to your cheeks.

mark had noticed as he had a small smile plastered on his face. “please?” he begged like a little kid when they wanted something.

“you just won’t give up will you?” you knew he would keep pestering you about it until you’d yes but that’s not like you. you weren’t going to go out with some random guy you just met and expect it to go good. you wanna go out with someone who you know and have had moments with. and mark hadn’t checked either of those boxes.

“nope.”

you just smiled before turning around. your professor had dismissed the class and you quickly picked up before walking out of there and heading to you apartment, wanting to forget about what had just happened.

he was cute but that’s all you had to say about him.

━━━━━━━━━━

it was finals week and you had a huge exam coming up. every chance you got, you’d be going over your notes, reading your textbook, highlighting and writing more notes down. it was a pain in the ass. which is why currently, you were sitting at a table booth in the far corner at some cafe near campus.

you had your headphones on, listening to your playlist you had created for occasions like this. you were singing the lyrics to yourself, not wanting to make so much noise as you were in public and it’d be embarrassing if someone had heard you sing. you were in the middle of highlighting a paragraph when you felt the cushion dip, signaling someone had sat next to you.

you grab your headphones and wrapped them around your neck as you turned to face the perosn who had decided to sit next to you.

it was mark.

you had no idea why you were even surprised. for the past month, he had been trying to get you to go on a date with him. always sitting near you in class, passing you notes as if you were in high school again and sometimes, he would even leave a flower bouquet on your doorstep with a little note. it always said something along the lines of, ‘beautiful flowers for a beautiful girl -mark’ and if you were to be honest, it made you feel something inside.

you tilted your head a bit as you looked at him in confusion. “what are you doing estapa?” you already knew the answer to your question. normally, you’d want the conversation between the two of you to end the second he’d start talking to you but today you felt like talking to him like you would with anyone else.

“sitting down to talk to you,” he answered before scooting closer and leaning forward to look at why you had been doing. he just raised an eyebrow before he leaned back to look at you. “finals?”

“yeah, it’s been a pain in my ass recently and if i don’t pass this upcoming test, my life is practically over” you remarked as you gestured to your stuff laid out over the table. “it’s just been a stressful week and i’ve barely has time to do anything but study.”

mark only smiled. “i know something that can relieve the stress.” mark noticed how you perked up at the statement.

“oh, please! literally anything would help all my worries go away.”

“tomorrow night, go out with me.” mark inquired. you should’ve seen it coming. at this point all conversations with mark had ended in him asking you out and you giving him the answer, ‘no’.

you sighed as you put your head in your hands. “mark,” you stopped yourself before you could go any further.

mark had turned his body towards you, “oh cmon y/n. just one chance, i’ll make it worth your while.”

“i can’t. i have to study and you should be doing the same.” you said as you picked up your highlighter again and began to resume your reading.

mark rolled his eyes at the mention of studying. “all you do is study. you know you’re allowed to go out at times, right?”

you ignored his comments and spoke up, “my answer’s no.”

“i won’t stop until you say yes.”

“then i guess you’ll be trying for a while.” you shot him a fake smile before returning to your reading.

he only shrugged, “that’s fine by me,” and with that he slid out of the booth and headed out.

what is it with this boy and insisting on taking you out? surely it was all a joke, a bet even, between his friends if he could get you to agree to go on a date with him or not. it had to be a joke.

━━━━━━━━━━

it was friday night meaning you had finished all your exams and were happily laying in bed, wanting to relax. you had ‘New Girl’ on and you were enjoying every second of it until your roommate aka your best friend, natalie, had barged into your room. you were pretty sure the door knob had left a hole in the wall.

“get up hoe, we have places to be.” she exclaimed as she began to raid your closet.

you sat up as you stared at her like she were a mad man. “what do you mean, ‘we have places to be’” you began thinking, trying to remember if you had something important to attend to. “did i forget about us having plans or something because i don’t-”

“no, we didn’t have plans but now we do. so get your ass out of bed and start getting ready.” she ushered you into the bathroom and she handed you a pair of light washed jeans, a white tank top and a maize zip up with a michigan beanie. now you were really confused.

natalie had taken out your makeup bag and began to take out your mascara, lip gloss, blush and many other things you didn’t even know you had. you grabbed her hands making her turn towards you. “where are we going?”

“to a hockey game.”

she can’t be serious.

“you can’t be serious.” she only smiled and shrugged before going out of your bathroom and into the living room.

“i’ll be waiting for you and you only have thirty minutes!” she shouted as she made her way to the couch. this bitch is crazy.

you had put on the outfit and began to do your makeup. you hair was already done from when you did it in the morning before your 8:00 am lecture. somehow it had stayed in tact, only a few baby hairs were sticking out but nothing you couldn’t fix with hair gel.

you finished up your makeup and started to put everything in the bag but you left it be as natalie had shouted you only have two minutes. it’d be cleaned up eventually.

you walked out of the bathroom and headed toward the living room where natalie was waiting for you. “can we go now?” natalie looked up form her phone and a grin spread across her face. she nodded her head and you both headed out the door.

on the walk to yost, you both had met up with some of the player’s girlfriends. you and natalie were friends with them and you all hanged out even if you have never been the biggest fan of the men’s hockey team.

a couple minutes later, you had all arrived to the arena and went inside before showing your tickets and heading towards the rink. you followed behind as you watched the boys warm up. you had thought you were to get seats up high where you could barely see the puck, but to your luck, you had front row seats to the game.

you all had began to talk when molly, adam fantilli’s girlfriend, spoke, “so y/n how’s your relationship going with mark?” all the girls turned towards you, some confused while others just had a smirk on their face. what relationship? you guys were just friends. well if you could call it that.

“our relationship?” you questioned. you weren’t even in one. although sometimes you wish you were. over the course of mark’s attempts to ask you out, you couldn’t help but develop some feeling for him. with the flower bouquets on your doorstep, the small conversations you’ve had with him, to him trying to sit near you in class, always staring at you, it made you feel things you’ve never felt before.

molly furrowed her eyebrows, “you’re not together?” you could only skate you head no, “that’s weird. adam keeps telling me about how mark wont shut up about you and how he can’t wait for you to go on a date with him soon.”

“i never agreed to go on a date with him.” you replied to her statement. had he been making up lies? “if anything, i keep telling him no whenever he asks me.”

“why?!”

“you should say yes!”

“he’s in love with you, you know.”

“you guys would be cute together.”

you just looked at all of them and playfully rolled your eyes. “i don’t know.”

“he’s always sending her flowers almost every day. we’re running out of vases to put them in.” natalie explained and they all started squealing, asking you about the whole situation.

you were too busy explaining the whole story from when mark first asked you in class till now that you hadn’t noticed a certain player staring at you from the ice.

mark couldn’t help but smile at the thought of you being here at his game. he was too busy staring that he hadn’t noticed that ethan and mackie had skated over to him when they noticed their friend had been in the same spot for a while. the pair followed his gaze and both smirked at each other when they realized who mark had been looking at the whole time.

ethan put a hand on his shoulder, “dude, you are whipped.” that seemed to snap mark out of his trance.

“what?” mark‘s face had turned a deep shade at red as he had been caught staring at you.

“are two dating or what?”

mark looked at mackie, “where’d you get that from?” he asked.

“for the last month, she’s all you ever talk about. kinda just assumed she was your girl.” mackie shrugged as he skated side to side.

“no way is that ever happening. i’ve asked her out more times than i can count and the answers always been no,” mark said as he moved to stand in front of the two, “i’ve given up hope at this point.”

“might as well try one more time.” ethan suggested as he looked over mark’s shoulder. “i mean she’s looking at you right now,” he pointed over to where you and all the girls were seated. mark turned around and you quickly looked back as you had been caught. “they’re giggling. and are back to looking at you.”

mark could only give him a look. “so what? that’s what they do.”

ethan and mackie looked at each other before they bursted out laughing. “what’s so funny now?”

“god you really are stupid.” ethan told mark who playfully pushed ethan. “she’s in love with you too.”

mark scoffed. “and how would you know?”

“because i heard her talking about you to her friends. she said how at first she was a little annoyed with you because she’d be in class and you would sit either in front or behind her just to ask her out. and then you started to send her flowers with a little note attached and you’d pass her notes in class telling her she looked pretty and how you loved her personality and shit and wow you’re in deep man.” ethan explained and mark got annoyed before gesturing for him to continue, “she couldn’t help but feel something inside. she started to develop feelings for you and now that she looks back at it, she wished she would have said yes to when you asked her if she’d go out with you-”

ethan couldn’t finish what he was saying as frank had called them over. mackie and ethan skated over to the bench, mark not too far behind.

throughout the whole game, mark kept thinking about you and what ethan had said. did you love him? had you said no all those times to avoid your feelings for him? many thoughts ran through his head. he had to ask you. just one more time and hopefully this time you’d admit your feelings to him instead of avoiding them.

━━━━━━━━━━

the boys had won and you were all waiting outside the locker room for the boys to come out. the group was talking about going out next weekend but you zoned out. the whole night you couldn’t help but think, ‘maybe telling mark no was a bad idea’ and you knew it was. when he came out of the locker room, you would tell him how you felt, no hesitation.

about ten minutes later, you could hear the boys all shouting and clapping. you all winced at the noise but soon it stopped and the boys had started to file out of the room, some saying hi while others just smirked as they passed by you. the boys went over to their girlfriends while you stood to the side, letting them have their moment when all of a sudden you heard you name being called.

you turned around and were meet with mark and the sophomores behind him. you were confused, majorly confused. “hi?”

“i’m only going to ask once. y/n will you please go on a date with me?” mark pleaded.

that was unexpected.

you stood there, frozen. you didn’t know what to say. well you did but with everyone around you just froze. mark waved a hand in front of you face. “y/n?”

“huh, what?”

he couldn’t help but smile, “will you go on a date with me?” you did the fist thing that came to mind, you went up to him and pressed a kiss to his cheek. you leaned back and could see the blush on his face. “is that a yes or?”

“it’s a yes.”

everyone that was still there cheered and mark couldn’t help but wrap his arms around you as everyone had practically pounced on you both, celebrating mark’s success of you saying yes to a date.

“you know i like you right?” you broke the hug as you stared up at him. you nodded in response.

“i do mark. and it’s ok because i happen to like you as well.”

“i know.”

what did he mean he knew?

“what do you mean, ‘i know’?” you wondered as you pulled back.

“ethan told me earlier.” that little bitch.

you hid your head in his chest. “i’m gonna kill him.” you felt mark laugh.

“don’t be embarrassed. it’s okay. i mean i’ve loved you since i saw first saw you in class but was too much of a pussy to even talk to you so i just kept my distance. which is probably why you’ve always said no to all those times i asked.” mark said as you two began to walk out of yost behind everyone else.

“woah buddy, how about we keep the ‘i love you’s’ away until after that date.” you both chuckled. “i love you too. i have ever since you started sending over those flowers. and those notes you’d give me in class always made my day better. especially when i was having a shitty day which happened to be very often.” you both walked behind everyone. “i didn’t realize until a month later and now i wished i would’ve said yes sooner. it would’ve saved me all this trouble of denying my feelings for you when clearly i had loved you ever since you started to do all these things just to get me to say yes, which by way worked.” you smiled and he did too.

“i can tell. otherwise i wouldn’t do this.” he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. your hands found his cheeks and his found your waist. you didn’t waste a second to respond. the kiss was slow but passionate. it was all you ever wanted. you pulled away and looked up at him. “i love you.”

“i love you too.” you leaned up and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips before you heard mackie call out, “hey lovebirds, let’s go! we’re going to the bar to celebrate this win!”

you and mark laughed as he stared down at you. “this doesn’t count as our first official date, right?” he asked as you two caught up with everyone.

you shook your head, “no, not unless you want it to be.”

“good.”

the way i honestly got a little carried away with this and it somehow still turned out like shit. it’s fine. the last part was booty as i had gotten tired but at least it’s done. this took me two days to write and i promise all of my other fics won’t be this long.

#mark estapa #mark estapa x reader #mark estapa blurb #umich hockey #ethan edwards #luke hughes #mackie samoskevich #luca fantilli #frank nazar #johnny druskinis #isa’s works

711 notes · View notes

rafferty3207 · 10 months

Note

omg I'm the anon who requested the jamie x reader neighbours fic and boy you delivered! fucking love it! can't wait for part 2

This is so lovely anon, I'm so glad you liked it!!! For you, I will deliver a part two with the caveat that I'm so sorry I got carried away and now it will be in three parts (sorry again), but the last part will be the finale!!! Anyway I present to you:

Too Good to Be True (part two)

read part one here

warnings: allusions to abuse, mention of anxiety/panic attack, daddy issues, two hopeless idiots flirting, a bit of angst at the end but worth it (sorry again)

A/N: I have nothing to add except this gif is not mine and has turned me feral

It’s been several days since you left your phone number and you are nervous.

You don’t get why you care so much.

It’s just Jamie, your annoying neighbour. Your annoying, but also extremely handsome neighbour. Your annoying, handsome neighbour who massaged your feet, and your legs, and almost your thighs and god you couldn’t think straight. You’d been able to get nothing done as you had spent the last few days just constantly replaying that evening in your head. And to make things worse, it turns out Annoying Handsome Jamie was in fact a very famous Premier League footballer. Who has also been caught having sex on TV. (Yes, you had binged the entirety of his Lust Conquers All series since that night, but that was neither her nor there.)

After almost a week you had given up. The exhibition was just under two weeks away and you hadn’t seen him in the garden or outside the house at all. He had probably come to the conclusion that you were both too weird and too normal for him and the only conclusion was move on with your life and forget his stupid sexy face ever existed, when you got a text.

u free tonight

Jxoxo

Of course, you wanted to play it cool. After all, you had spent the entirety of the week waiting for this message.

29 minutes and 59 seconds later.

I might be.

The phone immediately pings.

do u not know??

xoxo

Depends, what are you thinking?

thought u wanted a model

Xoxo

Of course, he was thinking about the painting. As you also definitely were. You were a professional artist. Almost.

What time?

ill come after the match

You spend your evening preparing and also perhaps figuring out an outfit that says 'casual bohemian artist that definitely doesn't care' while redoing your makeup twice. However, as the hours stretch on and on and on you are at the point of giving up and going to bed, when the doorbell finally rings.

You race down, before waiting a minute, quickly checking yourself in the mirror and pulling out your phone to pretend you had already been looking at something when you open the door.

But before you can pull the casual act, he walks right past you.

“Hello to you too, Jamie.”

He strides into your living room where the canvas is set up and immediately starts taking his clothes off.

“Woah, what do you think you’re doing there?”

“Er, I thought you were painting nudes?”

“Er no-” At this point his shirt has already come off and he’s starting to unbutton his trousers. Of course he is very toned, with tanned arms and neck where his football shirt has been. You feel the breath knocked out of your body, glimpsing the very top of his boxers as you struggle for words.. He looks at you confused. Eventually you stutter an answer. "K-Keep the trousers on, okay?”

“What should I do then?”

“What do you mean?”

“How do I pose, like?” You shrug.

“However you want to, Jamie.”

“I dunno what I want.” You sigh.

“You just need to stand there and look pretty.”

“Well I do that all the time, so.”

“Great. So just…keep doing that.”

Jamie smiles to himself.

“What is it?”

“So you do think I’m pretty?” He smirks at you. You fold your arms.

“What are you, a sixteen year old girl Jamie?” You start sketching. “Besides, you know what you look like.” You go back to drawing in silence. You swear you see his cheeks dust pink for a second before he ouffs his chest back out and smiles.

“Aren’t you going to ask if I think you’re pretty?”

You freeze.

“No, because if you haven’t noticed, I’m not sixteen. I am an adult woman and I don’t need random men for unsolicited affirmation, no matter how pretty they are.”

Jamie opens his mouth, before closing it again. Maybe that was a bit harsh, but what else could you say? Tell me how pretty you think I am Jamie. Or better yet, show me. I’m dying to know. You could practically feel the feminism leaving your body.

You dismiss these thoughts and get back to sketching. You can see Jamie is looking down and acting fidgety, swinging his arms.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake.” You walk over and plant your arms on his shoulders. He is surprisingly warm and firm to the touch, and you try not to blush. “Is it okay if I move you?”

He nods, surprisingly quiet. You turn him ever so slightly, before gently pushing him down onto your stool. As you move one of his (very muscly) arms, you swear you feel a slight tremor. Was he shaking? You step a little closer, a hand on his back.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, Jamie.”

His face hardens.

“But I said I will, so I will.”

“But you don’t have to. Only do this if you want to.” You smile at him, and his face softens again.

“I do want to, trust me. It’s just been a long day.”

“Okay, but if you need to stop or take a break, just say the word.”

You step back to your canvas. You try to focus solely on the drawing, but every time he looks at you, you find your whole body heating up. Despite this, you steal glances anyway. He stares at you constantly, in a way that makes you feel stupid and giggly. Observing all the soft and hard lines of his body, you eventually start to notice small scars all over his body until you reach his hands. You don’t know why it took you so long to notice, but his knuckles are slightly bruised.

“Jamie?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell me about your day.”

“Why? It was dead boring.”

“I don’t know. I find it helps me find the right mood.” You prepare your brushes. “You know, it tells me what colours to use.”

“Oh. I mean, nothing much happened.” He looks down at his feet. “I got up, went to play football, came here.”

“But why did you text me? Why today?”

“I dunno.” You sit in silence for a moment, as you mix the colours. “I mean, my dad came to the match.”

“Right.”

“Pulled his usual shit.”

“Usual shit?”

“Just being a complete dickhead.” You start painting.

“In what way?”

“Saying stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“Just the usual stuff.”

“You keep saying “usual” Jamie. I don’t think whatever he said is usual for most people.”

“What about your dad? He said that thing about you being a teacher right? Because you couldn’t paint or summat?” You put your brush down.

“Yeah he did say that. He says a lot of shit, none of which I would consider usual. Or at least it shouldn’t be.” You step off your chair and towards Jamie, reaching gently for his hand. “We don’t just have to take this shit, you know.”

“I don’t fucking take it!” He pulls away. You flinch back. He looks alarmed as he realises. “I should go.” He starts to walk out.

“Jamie, I didn’t mean to upset you -” You walk after him as he paces towards the door. He halts at the entrance.

“I’m not upset, I just - I came here because I didn’t want to think about my dad. When I’m with you, I never think about him. Or anything else, really.” He pauses. “I’m sorry.” Before you can reply, he runs off.

The next few days pass by. You send a few texts to Jamie, but no reply. The exhibition is only a couple of days away now, so you try to keep yourself busy. But his words won’t stop swirling in your head to the point you struggle to sleep. So you do what you always do: paint.

It’s not until one of these nights when you're up late at the canvas that you glance out of the window. Your heart stops. Someone is lying in Jamie's garden, very still. You dare to look closer. Is that..Jamie? He looks glassy eyed. He can't have...Without thinking, you run down.

"Jamie! Jamie!" Your heart is thumping in your ears so loudly you can't hear anything else. "Jamie are you okay?" You ask as you scramble to climb the fence. However just as you are almost over, you catch your foot, spectacularly falling over it into the bushes. You hear that trademark laugh.

"Why are you laughing? I thought you were dead, dipshit!" You say, crawling out of the shrubbery.

He remains lying down but he’s smiling at you now.

"Why would you think I was dead?"

"Why are you lying in your garden on your back completely still at 2am? Let's not pretend this is normal." You crawl down next to him.

“You’re going to think I’m stupid.”

“No I won’t.”

He looks away from you.

“I mean everyone else does, why wouldn’t you?”

“I don’t think they do.”

“There’s my dad. Plus, I’ve read Twitter.”

“You know how I feel about your dad and Twitter is full of very stupid people. But never mind them. I can promise you I don’t. And let’s be honest, I’m the only opinion that matters.” He scoffs as you offer him a pinky. But, he puts his pinky in yours before looking back up at the night sky.

"I can't get up."

"What? Are you injured?"

“No…I dunno, I told you it was stupid."

“It's clearly not that stupid. Are you okay Jamie?”

"I dunno. I was thinking about the other night with you and my dad and then I came outside because I needed some fresh air and then I lay down and started thinking about everything and now it feels like I'm stuck here. It's stupid -"

“Stop saying that.” You lie down and grab his hand. “Sometimes when you've gone through some shit, it comes out of your body in weird ways. But you're okay. We can stay here for as long as you like, but when we get up, you will be able to.”

He nods, and the two of you lie there holding hands in silence. You take some deep breaths and he follows. Eventually a small voice pipes up.

“I think I can go in now.”

You sit up and slowly pull him.

"See?"

He smiles at you gingerly before he looks down.

“You’re bleeding.”

“Huh?”

You look down. Both your knees are cut, along with one of your palms and your wrist.

“Yeah, that makes sense.”

He gently holds your wrist up to the light. He looks sad.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I need to work on my graceful dismount. Either that or just walk around to the back door.”

“I mean, I dunno, I think you could give Simone Biles a run for her money.” You swat him.

“Oi, you cheeky shit! Next time I’ll just leave you for dead.”

“I think the blood loss is going to your head, we should treat that ASAP.” He leads you into his house. “I think I’ve got a first aid kit upstairs.”

He starts walking up and you follow him. He seems surprised. You realise your error.

“Oh, I can wait downstairs if you like.”

“Er, no, it’s fine.” He steps into a bedroom and starts rummaging around in what is clearly an ensuite bathroom. You sit on the edge of his bed and look around. There’s pictures of him and his mum, as well as some pictures with the team and one with a slightly older moustachioed man.

“Is that your dad?”

He pokes his head out and laughs.

“No, that’s our coach Ted.” You look up at him. “He’s a nice guy though. Annoyingly nice. Almost too nice, if you know what I mean.”

“Right.” It was clear Jamie was soft on this man, but you wouldn’t push it today. He sits down and starts gently wiping the cuts. It is the same tenderness he held your foot, and it is the same tenderness that is slowly melting your heart. If you didn’t know any better, you would think you were starting to fall for Jamie Tartt.

You yawn as he applies the final plaster. “Right, you need to go to sleep.” He says, through his own yawn.

"I could say the same for you"

You sit up to leave, but hesitate. YOu feel Jamie’s about to say something.

“Hey, I don’t suppose.. You’d maybe fancy…”

You turn around.

“Staying around?”

Jamie looks at you pleadingly.

“No funny business I promise.” He looks up and offers you a pinky.

“What if I want funny business?”

“Eh?”

“I’m just messing with you Jamie. Besides, I’ve already stolen your knickers anyway.”

“Someone told me that’s a weird thing to say to people.”

“Well, that person sounds very wise.” You look around. “Can I use your bathroom?”

He gestures towards it and you go in. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you think: what the fuck is going on here? You splash some water on your face and tell yourself to get a grip.

“There’s a spare toothbrush in the blue pot if you need it.” Jamie calls through the door.

“Ew gross Jamie, I don’t want to use one of your many girlfriend’s toothbrushes!”

“I’ll have you know that’s brand new as I don’t have any girlfriends at the moment. Although there are sanitary towels if you need them love.”

“Piss off you patronising git!”

“‘Ey, I was trying to be nice and a good feminist and that.”

You brush your teeth before coming out and leaning against the doorframe.

“No girlfriends? What happened to the Island’s top scorer?”

He groans before flopping back onto the bed.

“I thought you didn’t know who I was.”

“I’ve been doing my research.” You get into the bed next to him. He flashes you a dirty grin.

“Bet you have, you little perv.”

“Me? The perv? What you did in that jacuzzi was a crime to my eyes, and probably in several countries.”

“Woah, you have been doing your research - that was like episode 42? 43?”

“What can I say, you make good television?”

Jamie pulls the duvet back before hovering for a moment.��

“You don’t have to do this, you know.” He gestures to the bed.

“I know. But I’ve been in your position before, and I really needed a friend back then. And I think you would do the same.”

“Any time.”

You squeeze his hand.

“Now go to sleep, you menace.”

“Aye aye captain.”

____

You wake up and find yourself once again not in your own bedroom. In fact, not only are you not in your own bedroom, but you appear to be cuddling Jamie Tartt. You panic silently. Your leg is swung over his, while his arm is draped over you. You try to move, but still asleep, he squeezes you a little tighter. And then something really surprising happens.

He kisses you. Just a little kiss on the forehead, but your chest is fluttering. You hate to admit it but, it feels just so natural. You’re so content and relaxed in his arms then…

Fuck. You fell back asleep. You’re in the exact same problem as before.

This time however, you are both awoken by Jamie’s phone going off. He reaches to switch it off, eyes still closed, but then it rings again. And again. The third time his eyes shoot open.

“Shit!”

“What is it?” You ask from behind bleary eyes.

“The match!”

You slowly sit up and watch him run around and get dressed, silently handing him things on occasion. He runs downstairs and you plod along after him, still half asleep. He runs out of the door, before abruptly stopping and turning around.

“Aren’t you going to wish me good luck or something?”

You wrinkle your nose at him in confusion.

“I don’t need to. You’re going to smash it anyway.”

“How do you know that?”

You shrug and smile.

“I just know.”

At this point, he strides right up to you, before cupping your face in both his hands.

“Jamie what are -” Before you can finish, he kisses you, hard. Your eyes flutter closed and you melt into the kiss, before he pulls away, but only just. His arm reaches around the small of your back and his forehead touching yours, he whispers.

“Wait for me.”

He runs off to his car, and you stroke your bottom lip, where you trace the swell of where he used to be.

Your heart is still pounding and you are unsure what to do with yourself, so you try to make yourself at home. You take a very long, hot shower before getting changed. Of course, you didn’t have any clothes here, so you find some pyjama shorts along with one of Jamie’s old jerseys.

You sit down to watch the match. You had never really gotten into football, but now you were glued to the screen. You couldn’t believe that the little Jamie on screen was the same one who shared a bed with you last night. And the same Jamie that kissed you…

The game is electric, and Jamie in particular is the standout player. Even the commentators remark on his zest this match as he keeps skilfully weaving through the players to lead Richmond into not one, not two but three goals.

Once the match is done, you watch, still glued to your seat when Jamie is invited to an interview.

“Jamie the way you played today was extraordinary, against Man City too. If you don’t mind us asking, what happened?”

“Ah well, I was really inspired by Simone Biles. She’s honestly changed my life.” At that moment, he turns straight to the camera, grins and winks, and you feel like he’s somehow winking right at you. Your heart skips a beat. You were really in trouble.

You look at your phone and Jamie Tartt is trending. Simone Biles herself has already tweeted reminding everyone she is a married woman and has never met Jamie. There are plenty of other women, including some famous other gymnasts and celebrities offering their Biles-like services to Jamie in some rather explicit tweets. You wonder if Jamie reads these ones too.

You walk to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea and as you wait for the kettle to boil, you look at Jamie’s calendar. There’s all sorts of notes, primarily training and matchs but you notice your exhibit is there too, with a little heart drawn around it. Jamie never stopped surprising you. But then a cold shock goes down your spine. You remembered today’s date. You are meant to be going to the gallery this evening to plan the exhibition. Shit. You check the time. You’ve still got three hours left, but you need to get back into your flat ASAP. You scramble around before realising that you had left your phone in the flat last night in the chaos to get out. But you also remembered Jamie and what he had said.

Wait for me.

You write a little note and stick it on the fridge.

____

Jamie comes back way later than he planned. Of course, after the match, there were drinks and celebrations but he couldn’t concentrate on them, just trying to leave to get back to you. He finally manages to break away, but when he gets home, he finds the living room empty. He searches around the rest of the house, and you are nowhere to be found. He checks his phone. No messages. He gets a message through from Keeley about how he’s trending online.

Of course he sees all the Simone Biles stuff and smiles to himself. He made a note to send Simone Biles a message in future, if this all worked out. Then he sees all the stuff other women are saying online. A lot of it is quite graphic and he wondered what you’d think. He imagined the two of you laughing together at them. Then he sees. The tabloids are already speculating. Not only do they actually think he’s having an affair with Simone Biles, but they have already posted some paparazzi shot of him with Keeley, along with long extensive timelines of his tumultuous dating history. His stomach drops. Anyone would run away if they saw this much baggage.

He tries to ring you. Once, twice, three times, No pick up. He’s desperate and pacing, until he realises he can just walk over to your front door. He rings the bell several times, before loudly knocking. Still nothing.

He can’t believe how much he’s fucked it. He knew he shouldn’t have kissed you, but he couldn't help it. No one had made him feel like this, like he was going crazy but also that he was calmer than he had ever been, like riding a lifeboat in the centre of the storm. As he walks back into his flat and into his kitchen, he doesn’t see the small corner of a note that has fallen under the fridge. He checks his phone again.

Still nothing. What could he do?

____

Sorry for the angst kids, hope it was worth it and the finale will be juicy!! lmk if you want to be tagged in the final part!! Not sure if I've done these tags right, apols if not!!

@skewedcherries @e-mmygrey @reading-blogs @alex-sulli @cameoutstruggling93 @sqrlgrl22 @maydayfigment @aiyaiy @alipap3 @okkkkkkksure @city-of-cards

#ted lasso #ted lasso fanfic #jamie tartt x reader #fanfic #romance #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt

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rebelwrites · 2 years

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I Will Never Stop Loving You || Part Three

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Final Part

Summary: It was the last race of the season but there was one thing missing for Charles.

Part One || Part Two

As always reblogs and feedback is highly appreciated ❤️

Softly you closed the back door behind you after going for a smoke, making your way around the kitchen you flicked the kettle on before getting out two mugs. One for you and one for your dad. Ever since your call with Charles on Lucy’s birthday things had started to change, you didn’t cry as much and you were hiding yourself away from the world.

You put a post up on your social media apologising for your sudden absence and any orders that had been placed would be fulfilled but you weren't accepting new orders.

“Kiddo, you are gonna miss it if you don’t hurry up.” Your dad shouted from the living room.

“Be through in a min, making a coffee.” You smiled, just as the kettle finished boiling.

Charles had been respectful of you needing space so any contact you had was because you sent the first message. But most of it was wishing him luck for the rest of the season.

Entering the living room you placed the two mugs on the coffee table before flopping on the sofa, picking up your sketch pad as you made yourself comfy on the sofa.

The moment Charles appeared on the screen for the pre-quali interview, you were sure your heart skipped a beat. He looked better than he did on the call, like he actually managed to get some decent sleep and the fire was back in his eyes.

Pulling your phone out you pulled up the conversation with Charles, letting your fingers dart across the screen.

To Charliebear 🐻❤️

Good luck this weekend, smash it like I know you can. Doesn’t matter if you come first or last as long as you put your all into it then that’s all that matters. We will be watching from the sofa x

Charles was in the middle of the interview when he pulled his phone out of his pocket, glancing at the screen when a genuine smile crossed his face as he read your text.

“Well, someone knows how to make you smile.” The interviewer said.

“Yeah, they really do.” He nodded, slipping his phone back in his pocket before winking at the camera.

You felt a smile tug at the corner of your lips as you dropped your gaze to the sketch pad on your lap. Suddenly the world felt like it was going to be right again one day.

“Did you just text him?” Dad asked with a big grin on his face.

“Don’t know what you are talking about.” You shrugged hearing your phone go off. Glancing at the screen you saw Charles had text back sending a string of red hearts and blowing kiss faces.

For the next couple of weeks you had started texting Charles more, at first it started with texting good luck for the race, then it was texting him after the race until you found yourself starting to text him throughout the days. Asking how things were going, what he was up to, telling him about your day etc.

Everyone had noticed a change in you, your smile was coming back and so was the sparkle in your eyes. Everyday your heart called out for Charles, each day that passed you missed him even more.

As you were lying in bed one Friday night rewatching One Tree Hill, you saw your phone ringing out the corner of your eyes. Grabbing the remote you turned the TV down before accepting the FaceTime call from Charles.

“Tout va bien? Everything okay?” You asked, adjusting your position in bed so you were now leaning against the headboard.

“Je ne peux pas dormir. I can’t sleep.” He sighed, running his hand over his face. “J'espère que ça ne te dérange pas que j'appelle. Hope you don't mind me calling.”

“Not at all, I was only watching TV anyway.” You smiled, pausing your comfort show.

“Let me guess, One Tree Hill.” He smirked, propping his phone up on the nightstand.

“No, I was urm watching,” you paused trying to think of another show but your mind went blank. “Okay, yes One Tree Hill.”

“Vous êtes trop mignon. You are too cute.” He grinned, reaching over for the TV remote. “What episode are you on?”

“Urm season one episode 21.” You whispered. “It’s only just started.”

“Okay, wait there.” Charles smiled, flicking onto the streaming service finding the show and loading up the right episode. “We can watch it together if you like?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.” You breathed, propping your phone up on your bedside table before snuggling down in bed.

“Is this the episode of the rain kiss?” Charles asked as he got himself comfy.

“You remember the episodes?”

“Sweetheart, how many times have we watched this show?” Charles hummed, raising his eyebrow at you.

A comfortable silence washed over the pair of you as you watched the show together, albeit in different countries and not exactly together but in this moment it was perfect. However Charles wasn’t really watching the show, his attention was purley on his phone watching how you were snuggled down in your bed clutching something in your arms. Squinting at the small screen he quickly realised it was one of his hoodies, the one that went missing after the night of the argument. A smile quickly spread on his face as he fiddled with your engagement ring that was still hanging around his neck.

In that moment he realised that he didn’t care about racing and the championship as much as he thought he did. He could have that life any day of the week and he was living his dream but what was the gut punching realisation was none of it mattered if you weren’t the one by his side. The only reason he hadn’t flown out to the UK was because you said you needed time and space so he was giving that to you, just like the reason he hadn’t given up on the rest of the season was because you didn’t want him to throw everything down the drain because of everything that had happened over the last couple of months.

The sound of soft snores brought his attention back to his phone, his heart melted at the sight of you sleeping, making him realise how much he missed you. He missed sharing the bed with you, the moments first thing in the morning when you were making the coffee, the late night talks.

He couldn’t bring himself to end the call, this was the most contact he had gotten since the argument.

“Fais de beaux rêves mon ange. Je t'aime pour toujours. Sweet dreams my angel. I love you, forever and always.” He hummed, switching the TV off feeling himself getting sleepy. Taking one last glance at his phone screen he found himself smiling as he drifted off to sleep.

Morning rolled around and the sound of soft snores coming from your left caused you to turn around, your heart melting at sight of Charles peacefully, his hair was now all fluffy. But you couldn’t get over the fact at how relaxed he looked, every time you saw him for the last couple of weeks he still looked like everything was tearing him up a pang of guilt washed over you as everything you both had been going through was because you walked out.

Running your fingers through your hair you came up with a plan. Grabbing your old laptop you waited for it to kick into life. Cursing at the speed it was going. Eventually it sprung into action, opening up the internet browser, you started searching for flights to Abu Dhabi. The plan was to surprise Charles, no matter if he won or lost you wanted to be there. You couldn’t live without him any more, he was your soul mate, the one you wanted to grow old with, the one you wanted to marry.

Smiling to yourself as you booked the flights, all you needed to do was speak to Pierre to arrange the grid passes.

“Qu'est-ce qui te fait sourire? What's got you smiling?” Charles hummed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“Nothing,” you giggled, closing the laptop and turning to face Charles. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you last night.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Charles smiled, pushing himself to a sitting position.

That’s when you caught sight of your engagement ring hanging around his neck.

“Vous avez toujours la bague? You still have the ring?” You whispered, feeling the tears prick your eyes at the fact Charles really meant it when he said he wasn’t giving up on you.

“Bien sûr ma chère. Je savais qu'il finirait par revenir à sa place un jour mais pour l'instant il restera autour de mon cou jusqu'à ce que ce jour vienne. Of course my dear. I knew it would end up back where it belongs one day but for now it will stay around my neck until that day comes.” He smiled, fiddling with the ring.

Before you could say anything your dad walked into your room with a freshly brewed cup of coffee, smiling at the saw you were on FaceTime with Charles.

“Good to see you, son.” Your dad nodded towards the camera. “Are you doing okay?”

“As well as can be.” Charles nodded. “I’d love to stay and chat but I need to get ready for the day of press conferences.”

“I will text you later.” You smiled at him before the call ended. Your dad smirked at the time of the call, he knew that you had been on the call all night whilst you slept, it was something you both used to do at the start of the relationship.

Ignoring the look from your dad you picked your phone up, instantly calling Pierre.

“Pierre, j'ai besoin de ton aide. Pouvez-vous me trier avec des laissez-passer de grille pour Abu Dhabi. Pierre, I need your help. Can you sort me out with grid passes for Abu Dhabi.” You said in a rush the moment he answered the call.

“S'il vous plaît calmez-vous, je viens juste de me réveiller. Please calm down, I've only just woke up.” He chuckled down the phone.

Wander through the house with your phone held against your ear with your shoulder, you swiped your cigarettes off the counter before heading out into the crisp UK autumn air as you babbled away to Pierre about your plan.

This was the best you had felt in a while but now you just had to wait a month for the final race of the season without spilling the surprise to Charles.

Standing in the arrivals of the airport your heart was pounding against your chest. This would be the first time you had seen Charles since you first walked out of the hotel those months ago. Everything had gone to plan so far, Charles still had no idea you would be greeting him at the end of the race no matter if he won or not.

You had a good feeling about the final race of the weekend, he had secured pole position for the race and he was looking strong out there.

Pierre had already texted you saying he was outside but you needed a moment to calm your thoughts. Over the last month it felt like you and Charles were getting back to the old versions of yourself, you were constantly texting or on FaceTime. Taking a breath you wrapped your fingers around the handle of your suitcase dragging it behind you as you made your way through the crowd. The hood on Charles’ hoodie had been pulled over your head, and the baseball cap was securely in place. The last thing you needed was the press catching on to you being here and spoiling everything you had planned.

Over the course of the months you had learnt to ignore the press, there was always some new article about what happened between you and Charles, it was laughable really they obviously did have anything else to report because they were focused on you.

The moment you stepped out of the airport you placed a cigarette between your lips scanning the pick up bays trying to spot Pierre’s car. Frowning when you couldn’t see him you felt your phone start ringing. Rolling your eyes you answered the call.

“Où es-tu? Where are you?”

“Tournez-vous à droite, je suis dans une location. Turn to you right, I'm in a rental.” He chuckled, watching as you turned around smiling when you saw the car ending the call.

Finishing your smoke you chucked your case into the back of the car before you clambered into the front seat.

“How is he doing?” You asked, watching the scenery change.

“Recently a lot better.” Pierre smiled softly, glancing over at you. “Ever since you FaceTimed him on Lucy’s birthday everything changed.”

“Truth is it took a lot for me to text him that day, I did it more so for me than Luce.” You admitted, leaning your head against the window.

“I know,” he winked, “Je ne suis pas aussi stupide que tu le penses. I'm not as stupid as you think I am.”

“Ferme-la et conduit. Shut up and drive.” You giggled, pulling your phone out finding yourself texting Charles with a huge smile on your face.

The crowd was going mental as Charles crossed the line with Pierre close behind him. Your smile was wide as you watched from Pierre’s garage. Everyone on the team had been so accommodating, setting you up so you were hidden out of sight.

Your heart was racing so fast you thought it was going to burst through your chest. Keeping your eyes glued to the screen you watched as the cars pulled up to the podium. All you wanted to do was run over to Charles but you had to wait. The plan was you were going to slip into the crowd blending in whilst he took the podium.

“Y/N, it’s time.” Pierre’s manager grinned, wrapping her arm around your shoulders. “Go get your man.”

Taking a deep breath you silently prayed that this didn’t backfire. Pushing your way through the crowd you found the perfect position in the sea of people, you still had the cap on so your face was shielded for now.

Watching your man brought tears to your eyes as you watched him pull the black cord from his fireproofs, squeezing his eyes closed before kissing your engagement ring, once he had done that he lifted the trophy in the air. That was your queue.

The crowd fell silent for a split second as they watched in awe so you took that to your advantage, wolf whistling causing Pierre to grin, nudging his friend, leaning into him and whispering something to the Monégasque.

You wasn’t quite sure what Pierre said to Charles but he started scanning the crowd until he locked eyes with you, even from this distance you could see the tears that rolled down his cheek as he was trying to determine if this was real or not. Pulling the Ferrari cap off you ran your fingers through your hair, throwing him a wink.

Everything happened in slow motion from that point, as soon as Charles was off the podium he passed the trophy to Pierre before pushing his way through the crowd ignoring everyone that was shouting at him to come back.

All that mattered to him was getting to his girl.

Fumbling with the sleeves of the hoodie you watched as the crowd moved out of his way, you knew the camera’s would be following but you didn’t care.

As soon as he was within touching distance you ran into his arms, jumping so your legs were around his waist and arms around his neck. Automatically you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck inhaling the smell of after shave. Once again the world felt right again.

“Je suis désolé. I’m sorry” you cried over and over against his skin causing him to hold onto you tighter.

“Tu n'as pas besoin de t'excuser, je suis celui qui t'a conduit au point de rupture. You don't need to apologise, I am the one who led you to breaking point.” He cried, refusing to let you go even when your legs dropped to the ground, his arms securely wrapped around your waist.

The pair of you stood in silence with the whole world watching you reconnect.

“Just kiss her!” Pierre hollered, making you both chuckle.

“Il y a quelque chose que je dois faire d'abord. There is something I need to do first.” He grinned, moving so he could pull the black cord from under his fireproofs.

Your eyes fixated on him as he undid the clasp letting the diamond ring fall into the palm of his hand.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as he dropped down onto one knee in the middle of the crowd.

“Je sais que je l'ai déjà demandé, mais je sais que j'ai été un connard et que je passerai ma vie à me rattraper. I know I have asked this before but I know I have been a dick and I will spend my life making it up to you.” He grinned, taking your hand in his, his eyes shining bright with love. “Je t'ai laissé t'éloigner de moi une fois et je ne laisserai plus jamais ça arriver. Y/N tu es mon monde, rien d'autre n'a d'importance si tu n'es pas à mes côtés. I let you walk away from me once and I'm not going to ever let it happen again. Y/N you are my world, nothing else matters if you aren't by my side.” He cried, taking a deep breath. “Je ne peux plus supporter d'être séparé de toi. Y/N allez-vous me rendre l'homme le plus heureux une fois de plus et accepter de reprendre ce stupide monégasque et de devenir sa femme. I can't bear to be apart from you any longer. Y/N will you make me the happiest man once again and agree to take this stupid Monégasque back and become his wife.”

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you looked down on the one person that made everything better. The last couple of months told you that you would rather be by his side no matter how shit times are or how hard they got.

Slowly you nodded your head as a huge grin spread on your face. “Yes.” You breathed, watching his smile grow ten times wider as he slid your engagement ring back in your finger.

Once he was happy it was securely in place he pushed himself to his feet, placing both hands on your cheeks, wiping the tears away with his thumbs.

“Back where it belongs.” He breathed against your lips, before capturing them in a steering kiss.

#Charles Leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc imagine #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula one x reader

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megalony · 9 months

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Locked In

This is my first Dalton Lambert imagine from the Insidious franchise, do let me know what you think. Comments and requests are much aprpeciated.

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Masterlist

Summary: Dalton, (Y/n) and Chris go to a frat party but when Dalton loses sight of (Y/n) he searches everywhere to find her and make sure she's okay.

Enjoy.

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The unique four knocks on the door broke Dalton out of his trance and made him feel like he had just woken up from a dream. He should have been adding some extra details to his latest painting but for the last twenty minutes or so, all he had been doing was staring blankly at the canvas. No more ideas were coming to mind, his thoughts had been wiped clean and if he tried too hard he would only ruin his artwork.

So he had taken to staring angrily at the painting, waiting for something to pop out at him or for his attention to dwindle so he could focus on something else.

But the person on the other side of the door would serve as a great distraction. He knew who it was before the door even opened. The rhythmic knock on the door told Dalton that it was (Y/n) and it was confirmed when she gingerly opened the door and peeked her head round, checking it was alright to come in.

(Y/n) only lived five doors down the hall. That was the excuse they both made when it came to late night chats, games and close encounters when the moon was high in the sky and it was time to call it a night but neither of them ever wanted to.

Dalton watched her tiptoe into his room and lean against the door once it was shut.

She looked lovely.

Somehow, Chris had managed to rope them both into going to a frat party despite knowing that Dalton wasn't the most outgoing of people and (Y/n) was more of a hybernated, quiet soul than a partying girl. (Y/n) had only agreed to go because Dalton was going and likewise, he only said yes because he didn't like the thought of (Y/n) going somewhere like that alone. Without him.

She was wearing highwaisted jeans, pointed flats and a thin, black lace shirt with blue and green butterflies sewn onto it. The shirt was seethrough, Dalton could clearly see her bra and the upper part of her stomach through her shirt. The sight alone made him gulp.

"Do I look okay?" (Y/n) pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear and tightened her ponytail out of habit.

There was no way she would go to a frat party wearing a dress unless she had leggings on underneath. She wouldn't put it past some of the idiotic boys there to try lift or pull her dress if she wore one and she was too self-conscious to wear a skirt or shorts. This combination felt the safest while still looking somewhat appealing for a party.

Although the only person (Y/n) wanted to impress and catch the eye of was standing right in front of her.

"Great, you look great."

(Y/n) watched Dalton stand up from his desk chair but he didn't seem to know what to do with himself. One hand tucked into the back pocket of his jeans and he scratched the back of his neck with the other, ruffling the part of his hair that was still loose. Most of his hair was up in a small bun and (Y/n) always caved when he had his hair up like that. His hair like that was a particular attraction that (Y/n) liked to sketch when Dalton wasn't paying attention.

All they needed was Chris to come down and then they were ready.

"Do you have a plaster?"

Her question caught Dalton off guard and the half-smile he had slowly curved into a frown and he quickly walked over, meeting (Y/n) halfway in the middle of his room. He stood a little closer than usual, almost too close until there was barely any space between them.

Their chests were an inch away from touching but he could feel the lace of her shirt and his fingers itched at his sides to reach out and touch her.

Being this close to her made Dalton's heart race but it also meant that he had to look down on her due to the height difference.

"Why, what've you done?" The concern in his voice made (Y/n)'s stomach curdle with adrenaline and a shiver passed down her spine. She could feel his hands hovering over her hips, unsure whether to actually touch her or not as he waited patiently for her to tell him what she'd done.

"Just a small incident with a knife,"

Dalton watched as (Y/n) held out her left hand towards him which he took gently in both his hands and pulled away the wad of tissue to reveal a small gash down the side of her thumb. Thankfully it didn't look too deep but it was clear the wound had bled a lot.

In a flash, Dalton retreated and (Y/n) missed his touch and closeness until he was back with a triumphant smile and a plaster in hand. She stayed silent but her eyes couldn't look away from Dalton's chest that was so close she was breathing into his shirt and could see his collar bone poking through.

It felt good like sparks were igniting in her fingers when Dalton smeared the blood away from her cut before he taped the plaster tightly over it to seal the wound. She thought he was going to drop her hand but after a heartbeat, and then another, he stayed close but silent, running his fingertips over the back of her hand.

Then, before he could think or stop himself, he leaned down and kissed her hand. He wasn't sure why he did, maybe it was because that was what his family used to do, kiss a wound when it was patched up.

His lips stayed hovering over her hand but he looked up through his lashes, catching (Y/n)'s gaze, unable to look away until a carnal desire shot through his chest to reach out and kiss her properly.

Something about (Y/n) just drew Dalton in, attracted him like he'd never felt around anyone else before. He wanted to be close, he always felt the need to reach out and hold her hand or caress the small of her back. He wanted to be near her, guard her, keep her behind him when he could see her getting anxious or freezing over with dread. Dalton was used to the feeling of (Y/n)'s hands gripping the back of his shirt whenever he had took up a protective stance in front of her and when she had pressed her temple into his back between his shoulders he thought he was about to faint.

Their lips brushed.

Dalton wasn't sure whether he had leaned forward and took the leap or if (Y/n) had kissed him but it didn't matter who moved first. What mattered was he now knew what it felt like to kiss her deep, plump lips. They were wet and soft and inviting and he wanted to devour them whole.

He let go of her hands to hold her hips and pull her as close as he could get her until their chests were moulded together. His fingertips dug into her jeans, squeezing her flesh and a groan vibrated through his lips and against (Y/n)'s when he felt her fingertips pulling at his hair.

A knock at the door broke them apart and for a split second, (Y/n) buried her face into Dalton's shoulder and gripped his shoulder when she felt his hands tighten on her hips. Their moment, something they had been waiting to happen for weeks, now it was ruined.

(Y/n) turned on her heels to face the door just as Chris peeked her head round and a bright smile glimmered on her face.

She could feel Dalton's hand move to rest on the small of her back and a small membrane of space came between them so Chris wouldn't get suspicious or nosey into what had just unfolded between them.

"Are we ready?"

"I think so."

It didn't take them long to reach the frat house where the party was being held, they could practically hear the music the moment they left the dorms. And (Y/n) started to regret agreeing to this as soon as they reached the house.

Apprehension dwelled in her stomach and spread throughout her blood until her steps started to slow and she was about to turn around and head back home. She knew Dalton could sense of even feel her waryness because she felt his hand slip into hers and hold tight as they walked up to the front door that was wide open but at the same time, uninviting.

"Stay close," His words were whispered in the crook of (Y/n)'s ear and it made her shiver and a bubble of adrenaline coursed through her stomach.

She wouldn't be venturing far on her own tonight, (Y/n) was already regretting saying yes to coming here in the first place. There was no way she would leave either Dalton or Chris right now, not when she didn't feel at ease here.

The three of them drifted into the kitchen and Chris was first to grab a drink from the large bowl on the table but one look passed between Dalton and (Y/n) that instantly said no. They didn't know what had been put in that punch, anything could have spiked it and they didn't want to take the risk. Both of them decided on a canned drink from the table instead.

"We're not staying long, are we?" (Y/n) whispered the words to Dalton rather than Chris because she knew Chris would argue. She would only leave if the party was well and truly boring or something happened, she wouldn't want to leave just because (Y/n) was uneasy.

"Not if I can help it."

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"Chris come on, this isn't fun." Tipping his head back against the wall, Dalton scanned his eyes around the room before he looked back at Chris.

They had been up here long enough now, it was time to stop snooping and go back down to the rest of the party before something happened. Anyone could walk up here and catch them in the act of scouting through a stranger's room. It was wrong and it was weird, no one would want people to look through their stuff when they weren't invited to do so.

The more pressing thought on Dalton's mind though, was the fact that he had been away from (Y/n) for too long. She didn't want to come scouting upstairs, even Dalton didn't want to but Chris was adamant someone was snooping with her for 'fun' and (Y/n) said she would be fine downstairs. She had found a seat near where people were dancing and she could sit and people watch and daydream until the pair of them got back to her.

He promised he wouldn't be long and now Dalton just wanted to get (Y/n) and go back to the dorms.

"Aren't you enjoying yourself?"

"Not particularly, no. I'm heading back down." Dalton dragged his fingers through the loose hair at the back of his neck before he pushed off the wall.

"Suit yourself,"

Dalton needed no more than that to leave the room and head back towards the stairs. He knew Chris could handle herself, she would be fine scouting round and when she was bored she would come back down stairs and find him and (Y/n). He didn't feel or think he had to feel as worried about Chris as he did about (Y/n).

He bypassed people on the stairs, shrinking close to the wall to get out of the way and get down both flights of stairs. This party was boring, the voices, music and screeches were too loud and people were too close, too drunk and too irritating.

A slither of fear shot up Dalton's spine when he reached the bottom of the stairs and walked towards the main room of the house.

(Y/n) wasn't where he left her.

Part of him expected her to move. He knew she wouldn't be sitting in the exact same spot he left her but at the same time, he wished she was. It would be easier if she was still near the sofa where she had been before so he could grab her and drag her away and text Chris later to say they had left.

Now he needed to find where she was and make sure she was alright because it was about time they left.

He weaved in and out of the bodies dancing in the back room, being careful not to bump into anyone or accidentally put his hands on someone to get around them. He didn't want to be dragged into a dance with any of the people here who seemed past the point of being drunk.

The unease Dalton felt just kept increasing the further he moved when he couldn't see (Y/n) anywhere in sight. He walked through the almost empty kitchen and back round towards the stairs to no avail.

There was no sight of her lacy butterfly shirt or the black bra that was so visible to the eye or her crimped hair up in a high ponytail. Dalton couldn't see her anywhere, she wasn't crammed into a corner trying to become invisible or sat out the way with a drink or stood chatting to anyone.

Where was she?

Maybe she had gone upstairs to look for him and Chris. That seemed logical, Dalton had swept the ground floor and couldn't see her anywhere and he knew if she saw him she would have called out and made her way over to him.

So he went back up the stairs and stopped on the first floor where he had just been with Chris, peering through the bodies to try and find the one person who always stood out to him.

Surely (Y/n) wouldn't be in one of the rooms up here? Not unless someone had enticed her or made her follow them into a room. Nevertheless, Dalton tried to open a few doors, most of which were locked, and he peered into the rooms that were open to search for (Y/n).

He knew she wouldn't have gone home without either him or Chris and she would have texted him if she was that panicked and was ready to go. She wouldn't go on her own.

"Come on," He muttered under his breath as he scanned the rooms, avoiding Chris who he knew was in the last room at the end of the hall. He didn't want her to panic or come searching with him, not yet. Not until he was sure he had searched every inch of the house and still couldn't find (Y/n).

Anger radiated through Dalton's bones as he headed up to the second floor. Why couldn't he find her? She better be okay because if she wasn't…

A frown pulled at his lips and his brows furrowed when he walked onto the landing of the second floor.

Why were people crowding round one of the rooms?

Something drew Dalton closer to the few students who were hovering in a circle around one of the doors but as he got closer, it felt like claws were scratching the back of his neck and digging under his skin. One or two people were laughing while the others were just, watching, frozen with curiosity and confusion. But what got Dalton's back up was the noise that got louder the closer he got to the room. He reached his arms out and pushed through the people until he was close enough to register what it was.

It was (Y/n).

Dalton knew that voice, he heard it in the few dreams he had when he didn't go wandering the halls of the dorm. He heard that voice when his nightmares plagued him and her voice drew him back into the real world.

But her voice was usually a lulling melody, so far away and quiet that it almost didn't sound real. This voice was shrill, it was broken and loud and desperate in a way that he hated.

"Open the door! L-let me out; let me out!"

"Move!"

With a harsh shove, Dalton pushed someone out of his way so he could stand in front of the door which for some reason, he was sure led to a bathroom.

His hand curled around the handle but it wouldn't open. Someone had locked her in there. (Y/n). His (Y/n), locked in there, screaming for help that no one was bothering to give because they would rather watch the spectacle than get involved and make it stop.

Rage bubbled up inside him like he'd never felt before and before he could process what he was doing, Dalton leaned back and raised his leg up. He slammed the heel of his shoe into the door a total of three times before the wood splintered and the lock broke free.

Dalton barely pushed the door open before a familiar frame burst towards him at full pelt. (Y/n) barelled into him and knocked him down to the floor in front of the crowd in one swoop.

(Y/n) couldn't open her eyes, they were glued shut from fear and her body was shaking, petrified. She didn't know what to do, didn't know how to move or where to go or what to do. She recognised the voice on the other side of the door demanding people move and the moment the door was open, she fled. She saw the familiar face, lined with worry and rage and pelted into him, crashing on top of Dalton and they collided down to the floor.

Her arms cocooned around his chest just before he hit the floor and she could feel all the wind being knocked out of his system but she couldn't find the will to care. (Y/n) buried her face in his shirt and curled up against his chest, laying awkwardly between his legs until she felt those familiar broad hands spreading out on her back and his arms pressing into her sides, safely caging her to him.

For a few seconds, Dalton tried to find the ability to breathe and he shook his head to clear his vision which had turned to stars for a few seconds. When he managed to look down at (Y/n), all he could see was a shaking form laid on top of him, clinging to him like he was her lifeline.

With little effort, Dalton slowly pushed up until he was sitting upright which gave (Y/n) a better opportunity to curl into him and he didn't think twice before he pressed his chin on top of her head.

"Who locked her in there?" Dalton looked round the many faces crowding round, some of whom started to turn away and leave now the commotion had died down. He wanted to know who had done that to her, he wanted to see who thought it would be funny to lock (Y/n) in a tiny bathroom like that and listen to her cry and beg to be let out. "Who the fuck did that?!"

When no one answered, he could have quite happily got up and started throwing punches until someone told him what happened, but he didn't. He couldn't, not when (Y/n) was still in his arms like this.

Tightening his arms around her, he slowly stood up and pulled (Y/n) up with him, making sure to keep his arms tight around her waist so she knew he wasn't about to let her go or leave her alone.

"Come on, we're going."

(Y/n) felt like her legs had turned to jelly but when Dalton guided her towards the stairs and started walking, she went along easily. She could feel him shaking with anger, even as he took out his phone and whispered that he was letting Chris know they were leaving.

The walk back was quiet but it wasn't uneasy.

(Y/n) relished in the fact that Dalton hadn't let her go yet, he didn't dare let go of her. He had both his arms around her back and shoulders, his chin on top of her head and his upper body was twisted to the right to curl around her properly. From the height difference, (Y/n) had her head just beneath his shoulder, pressed into his shirt so she could breathe in his scent and cologne and her eyes were tightly closed. She let him guide her from the house and down the street, back towards their dorms while her arms stayed bound to his slim waist.

"What happened?" Dalton's voice was quiet and tentative when they got back to their dorm block and he only spoke because he felt (Y/n) turn her head to see where they were. She had her cheek pressed into his chest instead but her hold was still crushing but comforting around him.

"I tried to find you two… someone locked the door, I thought I saw something, I just panicked I guess."

He knew of her fear of small spaces just like (Y/n) knew of his fear of the dark.

The bathroom was so small (Y/n) couldn't see how anyone could comfortably stay in there for very long. When the door locked something ignited in her and no one would let her out. Then the light started flickering and for a few seconds, she could have sworn someone else was in that cramped room with her but when Dalton broke the door, no one else was there. Her panicked imagination must have gotten the better of her.

"Can, can I stay in your room tonight?" Her roommate was out late tonight and (Y/n) didn't want to be alone. She didn't fancy lying in bed, panicking and waiting for her roommate to come home so she could settle and not wake up in fright when the door opened.

And Dalton still didn't have a roommate since Chris got reassigned upstairs, he had the room to himself and a spare bed in the corner just screaming out for attention.

"Sure," He couldn't hide the smile from his face as they walked up the stairs. It was strange having the room to himself, sometimes it was good, when he had nightmares or when it was early in the morning and he couldn't sleep, he was glad no one was there with him. He could stay up drawing or painting or sketching or lay with his nightlight and not have anyone complaining.

But other times, he got too lonely and his own company could be frightening. Someone there in the dark would be good.

Dalton didn't want to take his arms away from (Y/n) when they walked into his room, it didn't feel right somehow to let her go even though he knew he needed to so they could go and sit down.

He tangled his fingers in the hair at the back of his head before he moved to sit down on his bed, unsure what to do or how to act or what to say now. But he didn't have to say anything. As he leaned back against the wall, (Y/n) took him by surprise and stood between his legs, staring at him like she was waiting for a sign, for him to encourage her or tell her to move away.

He dropped his hands before suddenly reaching out to hold her hips, hoping that was encouragement enough to tell her to carry on and do whatever she was thinking about. He could have cried in happiness when (Y/n) slowly crawled onto his lap and sat down on his legs, placing her knees on either side of his hips and looping her arms around the back of his neck. It allowed him to tighten his hands on her hips and tug her closer like he did earlier in the night, keeping her chest flush against his.

"Thank you for getting me out of there,"

"I'd do anything for you."

(Y/n) brushed her fingers against the back of his neck, feeling a shiver creep up beneath his skin before she leaned to capture his lips with hers.

#dalton lambert #dalton x reader #dalton lambert x reader #dalton lambert imagine #insidious #insidious the red door #imagine

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dmercer91 · 8 months

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i’m in a roll with luca and black cat-

anyway

black cat not knowing what to get luca’s parents, so she both gives them a few framed photos of the boys big moments, but also sketches one or two of them out on a canvas

and they’re so thankful, but don’t want yo make it awkward

and adam- because he beats luca to it- goes up to his parents while black cat goes to the restroom or soemthing an explains js how much it means fo ther to give them her drawings

and it makes luca all 🥹 for black cat and adam’s bond

i’ve come back from the dead (i’ve been gone for a day)

i was so tired last night i fell asleep on the couch and my dad had to bring me to my room like when i was 7

but i started a load of laundry so i could stay up and write (knowing something needs to be done before i sleep is the only way i can function i hate myself)

but yes!!!! she makes a series of these three moments from ushl to mich to draft day for their christmas present

but like the boys are isolated and the backgrounds are all white

the middle one she’d done for a project (nobody knows this and she will make sure it stays that way) where she had to paint something with like visible facial expressions

but she felt like that wasn’t enough so she made multiple

she showed them to luca before they left for the holidays and he nearly sobbed on the spot

like he hugged her and held her head and smooshed her hair around in excitement and told her how much he loved her

and the hug lasted so long

fantilli christmas’ | opposites attract au, lf63

you’d never woken up early on christmas mornings, you never really celebrated other than being happy to have the day off and exchanging a gift between you and your dad

you’d had trees and sometimes your dad would convince you to make cookies, but only when you were much younger

so it was definitely weird to be awake before daylight, greeted with a tree full of gifts and lucas mom handing you a plate of bacon, eggs and french toast.

your legs were laid over lucas, your head rested on his shoulder while you fought sleep, his hands gently running through your hair not helping your case.

while adam dragged himself into the room, tired and rubbing sleep from his eyes, luca tilted his head to the side to be level with you

you gave him a small grin and he tilted your head to peck your lips, moving back to his original position once adam dropped down beside him and caused a ripple in the cushions

“it’s too early for you two to be-“ adam gestured vaguely in your direction, grumbling to finish his sentence

his mom brought him coffee and his food, and then everyone started on gifts.

yours to lucas parents was buried at the back of the tree- since you felt a little embarrassed by it and wanted to put off letting them open it for as long as possible

when they finally got to it you gave a small smile and clutched onto luca, nerves kicking in full force

luca was giddy, all too excited for his parents to open up your present, so he squeezed your hand and kissed your forehead, trying to reassure you that everything would be okay

they opened it and right away, their mom looked up with a heartfelt smile while they’re dad was just staring

“you’re so talented, sweetheart. thank you,” she turned her attention back to the art and leaned on her husband, smiling.

when they both looked back up, their eyes were watering and yours went wide, looking up at luca who was beaming at his parents

adam sent you a reassuring look, so you looked back over to them.

“can i hug you?” his mom tilted her head, smiling softly while getting up from her seat.

you nodded slightly, feeling a little awkward and you untangled yourself from luca and wrapped your arms around her waist.

she squeezed you tight, cupping your face and pulling back to look at you

“thank you, y/n,” you smiled in return, nodding slightly and moving back to your seat, re attaching yourself to luca.

the five of you sat around the living room for a while after everything was out away, yourself mostly silent

eventually, you poked lucas arm and mumbled that you were going to get ready. he smiled and kissed you, mumbling an okay before taking his arm off from around you and watching you walk off

once you were gone, his mom spoke up

“she’s beautiful, luca. and she’s got the biggest heart,” all he could do was smile, his heart swelling in his chest at her praise of you

“she’s good, isn’t she?” adam beamed, nodding to the piece you’d painted that was safe on the side table until there was time to put it up

both of their parents nodded and adam continued

“she works hard, mama. she was nervous for you to see. think it’s cause she spent so long and wanted you to like it,” luca watched his brother, smile getting harder and harder to contain

“well, we love it,” she reassured, adam smiling

“she’s at michigan for art, so she would’ve had to take extra time on top of other pieces. and i know she prefers to draw, so i think you guys liking it was really important for her,” he finished, smiling to himself

he looked over at luca, who was just glowing with pride for you, and his cheeks flushed

“sorry,” he mumbled and luca shook his head

“she loves you, too, mo,”

#e’s 500 celly!#e’s blurbs!#opposites attract au !#luca fantilli #luca fantilli x reader #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #umich hockey

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