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the-merry-otter · 1 year

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Please note that the image descriptions will be reflecting what I am trying to convey with the photo, rather than the total look of the photo itself. For example if I am trying to describe a dress, the hair colour of the person wearing it will be ignored. This is to reduce the total word count of the descriptions, because I have a lot of images to describe. On this note, I have also streamlined the information as much as possible.

[Plain text description:]

First slide: Mariota’s Guide to 14th Century (Medieval) Women’s Clothing

This slideshow is brought to you by @the-merry-otter on tumblr

ALRIGHT LISTEN UP MOTHERS AND FUCKERS. I’m bored, so today we’re going to be talking about medieval clothing. Specifically fourteenth century English clothing because that’s what I’m good at. (Source: trust me bro I’m a reenacter). Also this is all female stuff - sorry masc leaning folks, I’ll get to you someday!

Disclaimer: this is not completely comprehensive or nuanced in the slightest, it’s just a quick overview guide. Do your own research xoxo.

[Image ID: to the left is a picture of a woman in a light blue dress and a pink hood gazing out at a lake. The hood has a skirt that falls over her shoulders, and there is along thin pipe attached to the back of the hood that dangles to her knees. The edges of the hood are decorated with burgundy crochet. The picture is captioned “beautiful, stunning, gorgeous, literal goals.” End ID]

[Image ID: To the right is a picture of a typical renn faire outfit. It has a white poofy underdress, a black corset, and a brown skirt. There is a red cross drawn over the image. It is captioned “very pretty, but definitely not medieval sorry!” End ID]

Second slide: Underwear (ooh la la)

Now with nasty pocketses

[Image ID: a picture of gollum, from lord of the rings, snarling in disgust. There is a line in The Hobbit where he asks Bilbo what he has in his nasty little pocketses, which is what I am referencing. End ID]

So, corsets, stays, and shapewear in general kind of wasn’t a thing yet. So your underwear was a shift, which was awesome because it was also your pajamas. They were usually made of linen, though some might have been made of cotton is you were rich.

[Image ID: A plain white linen garment laid out flat on the floor. It is a dress that hangs to about knee length, with elbow length sleeves. An arrow points to it with text reading “this is a shift”. End ID]

There is evidence for supportive shifts for busy support, like this one from the fourteenth century!

[Image ID: a second shift, worn by a female presenting person. It is laced up the front, and is a lot tighter and more fitted, especially around the bust. It has straps instead of sleeves. End ID]

There’s also this bra like fragment found in Austria, but that is a whole debate so.

[Image ID: A bra-like garment fitted to a mannequin. It seems to be made out of white linen, coloured with time. The left cup is damaged, and overall the garment looks incomplete. End ID]

Then, over the shift, yet under your main dress went your pockets, which tied on at the waist. Your dresses had slits do that you could get at your stuff without flashing everyone lol.

[Image ID: A picture of medieval pockets. They are upside down teardrop shaped, but the point is flat and is part of the waist ties. There are slits in the side up the top to access the inside. They are cream coloured with bright floral embroidery. The caption reads “these bad boys can fit so many cool pebbles.” End ID]

[Image ID: A young female-presenting person wearing medieval clothing. She has her hands in the pocket slits of her dress. They are just below hip height. End ID]

Third slide: your dress, or the cotehardie. (Pronounced coat hardy)

Over the shift you put your dress, sometimes referred to as either a kirtle or cotehardie. 14th century people started actually form-fitting their clothes more than previous centuries. These needed fastenings, which were mostly lacings (spiral lacings specifically), or buttons made of either metal or cloth, used at the front of the dress from neckline to waist, and on the sleeves from elbow to wrist, with exceptions of course.

(Sidenote: fuck sleeves, all my homies hate sleeves)

[Image ID: a woman in a warm yellow dress to the left of the text. The dress is constructed simply, with a single piece of fabric used for the length of the body so there is no waist seam. The skirt is widened by inserting four triangles, one each at the front and back, and one on each side. The front has buttons made of the same fabric as the dress, that go down to the belt at the waist. The sleeves have similar buttons from wrist to elbow, on the outside of the arm. The woman is also wearing a liripipe hood. End ID]

Dresses seemed to be mostly wool, though I often use linen for mine because I live in Australia and it’s hot in summer and I don’t want to die. Most often they weren’t lined (that is what the underwear was for).

[Image ID: in the top left of the slide is a woman wearing a green woollen dress. It is constructed the same as the previous image, except it has spiral lacing on the front instead of buttons. The sleeves are fastened by three small buttons. She is wearing a simple and veil. End ID]

[Image ID: the top right of the slide shows a woman in a teal coloured dress, similar to the one before. This one has metal buttons at the sleeves and down the front. She wears a veil only. End ID]

The neckline of these dresses was usually round or an oval shape, and some manuscripts have it so wide that it falls off the shoulders slightly.

[Image ID: A photo of a medieval manuscript, depicting six medieval ladies in a row holding hands. The neckline of their dresses is wide enough that the tops of their shoulders are visible. The image is captioned “me and the girls on a Friday night”. End ID]

Clothing was a lot more colourful than the movies would have us believe lol.

[Image ID: Three women, each in dresses similar to the ones before. To the left is a forest green, the middle one is bright saffron yellow, and the one to the right is a vibrant tomato red. End ID].

Fourth slide: Dress two; electric boogaloo

[Image ID: Merry and Pippin from lord of the rings. Above them, meme text reads “we’ve had one, yes”, and then continues below with “but what about second dress?”. End ID]

You could also wear an overdress, which was usually of a contrasting colour and had shorter sleeves.

As well as fashion, they would have been used for extra warmth, and so were usually made of wool.

[Image ID: a woman in a maroon coloured dress like the ones on the previous slide. The sleeves stop just above her elbow, revealing a blue dress underneath. End ID].

Common people would have only owned a couple of different outfits, as fabric was super expensive.

[Image ID: various pictures of women with examples of an overdress. They are all constructed the same as the overdress, but with shorter sleeves that reveal a second sleeve of a different colour underneath. End ID]

A common late thirteenth to mid fourteenth century overdress was the ladies surcoat, which had big holes instead of sleeves.

Belts would have been worn underneath the surcoat.

[Image ID: three photos of women wearing surcoats. They are normal dresses, except there is a large D shape cut out of either side, leaving a large hole from the shoulder to below the hip. They have no buttons down the front. One of the surcoats is made of red brocade, and obviously belongs to an upper-class impression. End ID].

Fifth slide: Hair and headwear

Hair was worn braided and pinned up, with a coif (cap) and either a wimple or veil, or both. The wimple and/or veil were usually pinned to the coif, or secured on a band of fabric around the head.

Veils would be either oval, or a D shape. Wimples were rectangular. A wimple goes under the chin and a veil goes over your head.

[Image ID: a close up of a woman wearing a wimple. It is made of a light fabric, likely silk. The wimple wraps under her chin and is secured at the back of her head. A narrow band of fabric or possibly leather circles her brow, which would have been used to secure the wimple. End ID.]

[Image ID: A picture of YouTuber Morgan Donner wearing a wimple and veil. The wimple wraps under her chin, and the veil is placed on top of her head, draping down past her shoulders. It does not cover her face. Loops of hair are visible either side of her face. End ID]

All the headwear would be made of linen, thin wool, or silk, depending on class. The veils could also be made really fancy by ruffling the front edge or by attaching pearls.

[Image ID: a woman in a wimple and half-circle veil. The edge of the veil that frames her face is elaborately ruffled. The edge of a coif is visible under the veil. End ID]

I ride the bus in my medieval gear a lot because of events, and way too many people think I’m Amish because of my veil. It’s honestly just funny at this point. I should keep a tally.

[Image ID: a woman wearing a St Birgitta’s coif, pinning a wimple at the back of her head. The coif is a simple white linen cap that encloses the head, with a line of lace down the centre of the head. It is secured with a loop of linen around the head. End ID].

[Image ID: a picture of someone with plaits that have been pinned around the head like a crown. It is captioned “you could also pin your hair up like this”. End ID]

Working women might have just wrapped their head in a scarf instead, fuck this fancy shit right?

[Image ID: a woman in a headscarf that has been twisted and then looped around the front of her head. It is captioned #girlboss. End ID].

Fake braids were a thing! Blonde hair in particular was very fashionable, and bleaching or fake braids were sometimes used to achieve that.

[Image ID: two fake braids made of a coarse fibre. They are blonde in colour, and are looped like a hairstyle seen on many of the reenactors. They have white ribbons attached to the top end to help secure them to the head. End ID]

Sixth slide: Cloaks and hoods

These would have actually been two seperate garments! Integrated hoods on cloaks didn’t actually become a thing until the … seventeenth century or so? (Citation needed).

Cloaks were a lot simpler than the typical cloak we think of nowadays. Often they were just a rectangle of wool, or by the fourteenth century, sometimes a half circle.

They were almost always wool as far as I know, and were generally fastened by a cloak pin or buttons.

[Image ID: a metal cloak pin. It is a circle with a small opening at one point. A long pin is attached via a loop, allowing it to slide along the pin. It can fit through the opening in the circle. To use one, you would gather the fabric on the pin, and then slot the circle over the pin and then turn it, so the fabric is trapped between circle and pin. This is much easier to demonstrate than describe. The picture is captioned “these bad boys are the real MVP’s though”. End ID].

[Image ID: a diagram showing the construction of the bocksten man cloak. It is a half circle pieced together by laying strips of fabric together. In the centre of the flat side, a half circle is cut out for the neck. End ID]

[Image ID: a reconstruction of the bocksten man cloak. It is orange wool, and lined with an off-white linen. It is fastened on the right shoulder by three fabric buttons. It would fall to just above the wearers knees. End ID].

Women’s hoods could be short and open, or with a longer skirt and closed with buttons. Liripipe (pronounced leery-pipe) hoods were named for the tube of fabric that dangled off the back of your hood, varying in length. As well as a fashion statement, it could also be wrapped around the neck like a scarf if it got cold.

Hoods were nearly always wool I’m pretty sure, though they were often lined with linen, silk, or cotton.

[General description: a short liripipe hood would be open, with the bottom only reaching your shoulders. They were made from a single piece of fabric that would wrap over your head, with the seam down the centre back of your head. It was flared at the bottom by inserting triangular gores. At the front edge near your face there would be a strip jutting out that went from one side of your chin, over your head, and down to the other side. This would usually be folded back, revealing the lining colour. The bottom of the hood could either just reach the base of your neck, or reach down to just past your shoulders. The former would usually be open at the front, with fastenings optional. The latter option with the longer skirt was almost always able to be fastened up the front with fabric buttons. The liripipe itself was a thin flat tube of fabric fastened at the centre top back of the hood. End ID]

Fun fact, 90% of why I decided to reenact the fourteenth century specifically was because of liripipe hoods.

Seventh slide: Feet (not in a weird way)

Hose were used to keep your legs warm. For women they were usually knee height, and fastened just underneath it with a garter or tie.

[Image ID: a single light yellow hose, belted beneath the knee with a leather garter. The seam is down the centre back of the leg going all the way to your toes, and then around the top of the foot in front of where it connects to your leg. End ID]

Hose usually would have been made from wool, and were cut on the diagonal (bias) of the fabric to get the maximum stretch possible from the fabric. They still were looser than modern tights are though!

Knitted socks were also a thing I’m pretty sure, but I don’t know enough about them. Sorry!

Shoes were simple, usually referred to as turnshoes because of how they were made. Fun fact: the lack of foot support means that turnshoes are similar to going barefoot in terms of how you walk. Some reenactors love it, some hate it, and some are indifferent lol.

[Image ID: a pair of turnshoes made of dark leather. They have a strap that would fasten around the front of the ankle, similar to some modern shoes. The toes are pointed, and it is captioned “pointy toes were fashionable, especially for men”. End ID].

Because shoes were really hard to waterproof, (ask me how I know), and didn’t have solid soles, wooden pattens (pronounced pat-tens) were worn to keep you off the ground while outside.

[Image ID: a person wearing a pair of wooden pattens over their shoes, standing on a drenched cobblestone street. They are wooden platforms with an archway on the bottom, and are attached to the foot with leather straps around the toe, ankle, and around the back of the heel, similar to modern sandals. The image is captioned “ye old crocs”. End ID].

[Image ID: a woman’s leg with the skirts drawn back, revealing the bright yellow hose underneath. It is fastened below the knee with a strip of fabric. She wears a turnshoe with a buckled strap. End ID]

Eighth slide: Accessories

These are a few other items that might have made up a working woman’s outfit.

Aprons would definitely have been used while working. One were just a large rectangle of cloth tucked into the belt, some were smocked to draw in the fabric. They generally stopped at the waist.

[Image ID: a woman in a red dress, with a very light brown apron. It is smocked at the top, and is attached around the waist with a string. End ID].

Pretty broaches and other jewellery existed! There was cheaper stuff made of pewter for the lower classes.

[Image ID: five gold brooches, studded with different jewels and pearls. End ID].

They had a funny sense of humour as well… and they weren’t all prudes.

[Image ID: a pewter broach of a cat carrying a dick and balls in its mouth. It is captioned “you can actually buy these. I know a website.” End ID].

Eating knives were worn on the belt, though it is debated whether women would have carried one. I do because I’m a modern fourteenth century woman.

[Image ID: a small knife with a wooden handle, laying on top of a leather sheath that has been dyed red. End ID]

Belts are a curiously debated topic. Some people reckon that women would have definitely worn them, others say they they weren’t used by women much at all. As far as I know there are depictions of both, so choose what you’d prefer. They are great for hanging stuff on I gotta say.

[Image ID: a coiled up brown leather belt. The buckle and tip are a gold metal, and it has decorative flower studs along its length in the same metal. End ID]

Pretty little purses would have probably been worn. I don’t know enough about them to say anything else though.

[Image ID: two different pictures of reenactors wearing purses. One is brocade and the other a red fabric. They are in the shape of an upright triangle, and both have five tassels hanging from the bottom edge. They hang off the belt with long drawstrings. Unrelated to the purses, one of the women is wearing a gorgeous orange liripipe hood, that is embroidered and dagged on the bottom skirt edge. End ID]

Ninth slide: Fancy Shmancy

There is a lot I haven’t covered, especially in the realm of the upper classes. Here is some of what has been missed. (Buckle up because this section is very image heavy. I will be as concise as possible).

Heraldic dresses! If you are interested, go check out Morgan Donners video on YouTube.

[Image ID: a picture of Morgan Donner in her heraldic dress. One half of the dress is red, and the other is green, except for where it has been cut out by white with an ermine pattern on it. Her hair is unbound and uncovered, except by a small flower crown. It is captioned “Morgan bestie do your hair properly :(“. End ID]

[Image ID: a drawing of two women in heraldic dresses. The first has a blue right half with a yellow printed design. The top left of the dress is yellow with a blue fish, and the bottom left is red with a white fish. Her train is held by the second lady, who’s dress is blue on the right, and white with green birds on the left. End ID].

Fancy headpieces for rich bitches only.

[Image ID: a reenactor doing a high class impression. Her hair is bound up in Pearl studded hair nets on either side of her head like modern earmuffs, with a spiked coronet around her brow. She has a sheer silk wimple on. End ID]

Fancy dagged edged on hoods, sleeves, dresses, etc.

[Dagging description: where the edge has been cut away to make decorative dangly bits. One hood has red leaves around the bottom edge for example, and another just has a pretty geometric pattern. End description].

Brocade gowns! So pretty!

[Image ID: several different pictures of high class ladies wearing brocade gowns of different colours. These are similar to the wool dresses we were looking at earlier, but with longer trains, and often long draping sleeves. There is even a brocade surcoat. End ID]

Fancy sleeves!

[Image ID: examples of different long sleeves. On some, the sleeve is normal until the elbow, and then it falls away to a long strip of fabric that dangles to the ground. Not mentioned on the slide itself is tippets, which was a band of (usually white) fabric just above your elbow, with a thin strip of the same fabric that draped down to the floor. End ID].

Dresses that were two different colours.

[Image ID: examples of dresses that are exactly like the earlier wool dresses, except they are literally half one colour and half another. The manuscript example is a blue and red overdress with fancy sleeves, and the reenactor example is a yellow and green underdress with a red hood. End ID]

And of course, some of the funky fun fabric choices.

[Image ID: a manuscript depiction of a woman carrying a dead bird. Her hood is red and white striped horizontally, and her dress is dark and light blue striped, also horizontally. End ID].

[Image ID: a manuscript depicting a woman talking to a second lady in a chair. The dress on the first has horizontal stripes of white, red, yellow, and blue, repeated, and the second has horizontal stripes of white, pink, and light blue. Interestingly enough the latter colours are very similar to the transgender flag which would make a very cool dress project. Hmm. End ID].

Tenth (and final) slide: In summery

(Small red text below title reads “I hope you have enjoyed” with a drawn smiling face).

Dis you notice all the “usually” “commonly” and “often’s” in there? That’s because I cannot possibly illustrate everything that we know of the time in only ten slides, nor do I know everything, so I have just tried to show what seems to be the most depicted.

Note: I probably even got some stuff wrong by the way.

If you’re interested in this stuff, I really recommend doing your own research now! Hopefully I have given you a good overview of what a fourteenth century womens outfit might have looked like, so now you can go fourth and know what you’re looking for.

If you have any questions about costuming, reenactment, or anything else, feel free to contact me!! I respond on Timblr decently fast ☺️

[Image ID: a reenactor sitting on a log, staring into the distance with a slight smile. She is wearing a grey-blue dress, belted at the waist with a small purse dangling from it. She has a dark blue cape and a light blue hood, that has fallen back to show a ruffled white veil. There is a pewter broach on her hood. A leather turnshoe peeks out from beneath the hem of her dress. End ID]

A list of helpful YouTubers:

Elin Abrahamsson

Morgan Donner

Opus Elenae

Miss Joss (her instagram is more active).

Now go hydrate!!

[Image ID: a woman in fourteenth century garb drinking from a jug. End ID]

#medieval reenactment #historical reenactment #medieval #medievalcore #medieval aesthetic #14th century #sewing #fashion #clothing #history #historical #sca #i’ll be on my merry way now

18K notes · View notes

moneymasnn · 1 year

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Right Timing | Charles Leclerc

Notes: 11k words of Charles and y/n pinning for each other…your all (hopefully) going to love it xx

this is my first post in about 6 months and I'm so happy to be back! thank you all for the continuous love and support I fucking love this app. this fic hasn't been proof read but oh well, ignore some spelling mistakes, sorry. anyways... ENJOY!!!

Blurb: One where you have a huge crush on your best friend's brother, the one and only charles leclerc, since you were a teenager, with him continuously telling you he was too old for you and you had no chance. You eventually gave up hope and moved on. But did charles? (Best friends brother troop/ slight enemy’s to lovers troop/ Older boy and younger girl)

Warnings: lots of angst, crying, sad y/n and sad Charles. lots of arguments and slight nsfw? but not really. Small age gap.

11.1k words

Arthur leclerc, your best friend since nursery… Your favourite partner in crime, your favourite laugh on a bad day, your favourite person in the whole wide world. Best to be described as home, your comfort person. He was the voice within reason, all that was right in the world.

He's your best friend.

Y/n y/l/n, she was truly and utterly his favourite thing about the world. He counts his lucky stars he has her to help him carry his weight. Y/n was the only person Arthur let visit him when his dad died, and in his books, that made her alright. Sure she would make him want to scream and cry and punch walls, especially with her choice in men. But Arthur was always there for her, when she needed to laugh or to cry he knew what it was she needed at any given moment, he could read her like she was his favourite book.

She was his best friend.

—

How it started:

A little girl with puffy red cheeks sat at the bottom of the nursery playground. Her legs crossed on the green summer time grass as she sniffled again, gently plucking a daisy for the ground before adding it to the daisy chain she was making. She liked to say she enjoyed her own presence, but truly she was distracting herself from the lack of company. With the other young girls teasing her for her wild curly hair, she willingly chose to be sat on the grass of the playground alone.

“Hey! Can you teach me how you did that? I wanna make one for my mum!”

And with no regard for her personal space he sat down next to her on the grass, squashing half of her daisy chain, but she didn't tell him that.

He didn't care that she was crying or that she had poofy hair or that she was even a girl, he was eager to learn her talents and carry on with his lunch break.

But when Arthur noticed the signs that the girl was rather shy and sad he thought he would stay with her for the rest of lunch, keep her company.

Little did she know this company wasn't going anywhere any time soon.

And at age five, the pair promised to be friends for life.

It didn't take long for them to get their mothers talking, and after that it was set in stone, playdate after playdate. Arthur's mum became your mum's hairdresser, so there were many nostalgic memories for the two in the salon, especially when y/n would accompany her mother to her appointments. The pair's best memory is y/n letting Arthur cut her hair in the storage cupboard of his mum's shop. The horror on both parents' faces when one of y/n's pig tails were held in the hand of the young boy.

Their friendship only bloomed from there…

After spending almost every weekend watching Arthur and his older brother race in karts in the rain, to spending most afternoons around the leclerc residence playing with Arthur on his xbox, the girl felt like family.

When she was young she always found herself drawn to the middle leclerc. He was away a lot of the time, karting. He was slightly older so no doubt he found the pair childish and would always moan when he was made to spend time with them.

Charles' mother was the first to figure out your little crush on the boy. She first noticed it when you joined the family on a winter skiing trip, you were around thirteen. It was your first time up in the mountains, so when your arms started to wave and you felt your body lean way too far back Charles did the only morally right thing, dropping the glove he was putting on and outstretching his body to catch you in time.

He didn't catch you in time.

Instead his heroic act to save you turned into humiliation when he realised you had taken him down with you.

Pascal carefully watched as you turned around, her eyes glued to yours that were glued to her sons. She watched your tinted red cheeks as Charles scoffed and begged you to get off of him as his bare hands were now engulfed in the thick snow, causing him to suffer with a cold for the rest of the holiday.

Your eyes widened and sparked at the sight of him. You would gaze up at him like he hung the moon and the stars, an expression his mother would soon get used to as she watched you fall for her son over the next few years.

Charles was older, and very uninterested. He didn't find your little crush as cute as everyone else did, the thought it made him look uncool. He would roll his eyes when you would grab his arm or duck when you would try to kiss his cheek. He hated when your families would go out for meals and you would sit next to him, or how you would call him after a race to congratulate him, no matter his result.

Charles always saw you as his little brother's best friend, nothing more and nothing less.

That was until your first boyfriend. A three year age gap wasn't that big of a deal as they all grew older. Charles found himself having mutual friends with his brother and would occasionally bump into Arthur and you at a party.

You were 16, you thought you had met the love of your life, an older boy, he was 18, around charles age who was now 19 and worming his way into f2.

Arthur didn't approve of Joao. He knew you were trying to prove to charles that the age gap isn't that big of a deal after his brother had repetitively told you you were to young for him, but somewhere down the line you found yourself mesmerised by Joaos eyes and that was it for you, charles no longer rented the forefront of your mind.

Joao was great, at first. You knew he wasn't the love of your life, but for the moment he looked to play the role quite well, and you were happy. You just didn't expect it to end like it did, maybe age gaps do matter?

You were at some house party in the hills of monaco, some friend of Joaos. You were downstairs in the kitchen with Arthur as he watched you drink your body weight in alcohol. He could tell something was bothering you but he chose not to mention it. In all your years of friendship he knew you would come to him eventually.

“Where is the lover boy anyway?” he spoke up.

Your lack of response is when Arthur clocked onto your boyfriend being the reason for your excessive drinking. Him ditching you, yet again.

You slammed down your empty red cup, wiping the dribble from your chin as you decided enough was enough and you looked for the presence of your boyfriend.

Arthur bid you good luck on your travels as his attention was now turned to the girl he had been eyeing up across the room.

And with your liquid courage you stumbled around the party. The house was huge. Gigantic windows that draped around the whole house. Everywhere you looked was so picturesque, making you fall in love with Monaco more and more. From the kitchen window you could see the river of lights leading down to the beach front. From the other end you could see continuous hills leading up into the stary sky, tiny specs of light from homes probably just as big and fancy as the one you were currently standing in swarmed your vision, a far cry from the apartment you and your mother shared where your view was a brick wall to another apartment complex.

Your heels were rubbing the back of your ankles as your hands gripped the bottom of your dress pulling it down as it was miles too short as you made your way out to the garden.

And there he sat, on the steps leading to the lit up outdoor pool, your boyfriend. A skinny little blonde girl sat on his knee. She was older than you, clearly. She took the cigarette from his lips and placed it on her own as her other arm draped over his shoulder. It was like this week after week, it was like you were a ghost.

This isn't the young love you put out for, and you decided enough was enough.

You always forgave him, but tonight was different. This night changed everything.

Tears welled in your eyes as you turned back into the house, you were going home. Joao caught a glimpse of this as he jumped up and followed you back into the house, why he would always chase after you you still don't know.

“Y/n, baby stop.” you ignored the sound of his voice as you pushed through the crowds of people to get back to the kitchen in hopes that Arthur was still there. He wasn't.

You made it to the kitchen before he grabbed the back of your arm pushing you against the kitchen island. His hand came up to wipe away a fallen strand of hair as he tucked it behind your ear.

“Come on y/n i didn't even do anything-”

“She was on your lap.” your voice crooked, you so desperately didn't want to be the little girl everyone thought you was and cry, not in front of everyone anyway.

“It's not that big of a deal-”

“It is that big of a deal! I'm humiliated!” you shouted back, creating a scene you so desperately wanted to avoid.

“I just- I just want to go home.” you said in between sniffles.

“Baby, don't cry, let's just go back to mine, okay? I'll call a taxi-”

“No, I want to go home, my home.” you begged, the tears were falling now.

His grip tightened around your arm as you tried to wriggle out of his grasp.

“I need to find Arthur, and I need to go home.” you said, pushing his arm as he still had you pinned against the counter.

“Oh come on y/n, drop the act you know you want to come back to mine.”

You threw your head back dodging his fingers that were trying to touch your hair again, avoiding his eyes.

“Joao let go, you're hurting me.”

That only made his grip tighten around your arms, pushing you against the counter even harder than before. As he leant down to your ear-

“She said let go mate.”

Your vision was too blurry to focus on what happened next, but you felt joao grip loosen as he stood back.

“Yeah and what are you gonna do about it, leclerc?”

That's when punches were thrown and Joao was hunched over holding his busted lip. Joao was grabbed by another person before he could lunge back at who you assumed was Arthur, but as you turned your head you saw a different leclerc shaking his hand. His knuckles were red, and his eyes were darker than the ones you were used to, charles.

“y/n get in the car.” he said, you stood up, sniffing and nodding your head. But then you remembered your missing friend.

“Arthur-”

“I'll get him. Get in the car.” his tone was strong, not what you were used to from the middle leclerc.

You waited by his car in the cold for a few moments just before Charles came out the house, a stumbling tipsy Arthur under his arm. There was pink lip gloss smeared over his cheeks and lips, and at that moment you felt a small smile creep on your face.

However, the car ride home was silent, you sat in the front with Charles, as Arthur passed out in the back seat. Faint french music played from the radio as charles eyes were firmly gripped on the road.

As you rounded the street to your home Charles finally spoke up, “You really know how to pick them.”

You sniffled again, unable to reply to him mainly because he was right and you were embarrassed. As the car came to a stop Charles undid his seat belt mumbling that he would walk you to your door.

He balanced on the back of his heels as he watched the moonlight highlight your tear stained cheeks. Charles thought you looked beautiful that night even though you had been crying for the last half an hour, your hair hadn't been brushed and you were rummaging through your purse like a mad woman, he still thought you were pretty. He would never tell you that though.

“Don't tell me you've lost-”

“Got them!” You giggled, shaking your keys in the air before whipping your nose for what felt like the fifth time that night. You stalled as you pushed the key in the door, turning to look Charles in his eye for the first time since the party.

“Thank you-” but he cut you off, not wanting to hear it. You were his brother's best friend, Arthur wouldn't forgive him if he ever watched you in a position like the one that night and didn't do anything.

“Dont.”

“No really, thank you, charles.” You smiled, Charles smiled too, mainly because it was probably the first time you had called him Charles and not charlie.

After a moment you dropped your bag on the floor and wrapped your arms around the boy's waist, your head rested on his chest as he hastily moved his hand and rubbed your back.

“Just make sure the next one isn't a total dick, okay?” he whispered, his chin placed on the top of your head.

He didn't know how much that sentence broke your little 16 year old heart.

You smiled and entered the house, Charles didn’t drive off that street before you waved at him out your window.

On the drive home we looked back at his younger brother, drooling on the back seat of his car.

It was that night where he realised the both of you weren't all that different, but so far apart.

The first time Charles saw you after that night was a couple months later, a family day at the beach. You had turned seventeen in that time and joao was old news. But charles eyes were stuck on your body as he watched you sat in the sand on your own. Sipping from a bottle of beer that you most likely stole from his crate, your toes were dipped in the wet sand as you watched the sun set on your own.

Arthur had brought his new girlfriend with him and even though you were still as close as ever, Arthur's attention was stuck on the pretty blonde that was talking to his nan.

The rest of your families were distracted too, or so Charles thought. His mum watched him intently as he walked back to the car park, grabbing a spare jumper from his car before making way down the beach front to join you.

He spent so much of his life avoiding you, but after the night of the party he just wanted to make sure you were okay.

He crouched down in the sand next to you, aware of how your eyes were on him. He placed the jumper on your legs,

“You're going to get a cold.”

You scoffed but complied. Putting the jumper over your head and pulling at the sleeves, it smelled like him.

“How are you?” you asked charles, he could feel your eyes staring into his side profile, but he stared at the sun setting over the monegasque sea.

“I'm okay.”

The boys lost their dad a little under a year ago now, you hadn't really seen Charles since. But he knew you hadn't left Arthur's side for them few months.

“How you holding up, really?” you nudged his shoulder with yours, he did his little signature smile before looking down at his lap. Avoiding the question.

“Thank you. For looking after Arthur I mean, he's lucky to have you.”

“Charlie…”

He looked in your eyes this time, he looked so sad, so broken. So desperate for a hug. You didn't pressure him to answer your question, insted you gently placed your head on his shoulder looking along the coastline in silence.

Charles appreciated the silence and the way you didn't push him, moments like these he understood why Arthur loved you so much.

“It will be alright you know.” you hummed on his shoulder.

“I know.” Charles whispered back.

“Really, i can already see Charles leclerc, ferrari formula one driver. Your face will be all over Monaco, and we're all so proud. He'll be so proud.”

Charles hated how much you believed him, because in that moment a nineteen year old boy with dreams bigger than the world itself everything felt impossible.

“Don't forget about me when you're all big and famous, yeah?” you smiled up at him.

Charles looked down at you, his eyes were glossy but the smile on his lips was enough to melt your heart, he threw his head back in a laugh.

“I dont think I'm ever getting rid of you.”

Now it was your turn to laugh, “at least your self aware charlie.”

After all the laughing he noticed how your eyes shifted from his own to his lips, and then he remembered why he was avoiding you in the first place.

“y/n..” he whispered, oh how he whispered your name in his little broken accent, your heart melted as he backed away.

“I know, I know.”

You smiled and placed your head back on his shoulders looking at the sun that was nearly gone.

“You know I'm too old for you, right?” Charles whispered as he leaned his head on yours that was resting on his arm.

“I'm in it for the long game leclerc.” Charles giggled as he let his cheek get comfy on your head, pushing his side into you as you fully watched the sun disappear over the sea.

On the night of your 18th birthday Arthur had taken you out to your first club, you drank, alot…

Charles happened to be at the same club, so when your drunk body collided with his you couldn't help but wrap your arm around his torso, clinging onto him.

He gently placed hand on the small of your back smiling as you leaned on him.

Charles was 20 now, soon to turn 21 and had just signed a contract with alfa romeo, he was officially in formula one. Even Though you were proud of him you missed having him around.

You stood on your heels, leaning up to his ear as Charles met your movements and bent down to hear you better in the loud club and your heart fluttered at the small action of his ear hovering near your face.

“I'm eighteen now charlie.” he could hear the smile in your voice.

“I know, happy birthday mon amour.” kissing your forehead, this was the closest you had ever been to him before, and you craved more. He had never called you the nickname before, he was teasing you.

“I'm officially an adult nowwwww.” you longed out his ear before you hand palmed his cheek. You so desperately wanted to kiss him.

“Y/n.” His tone was serious as he caught onto your intentions.

“Y/nnn.” You teased him back, imitating his serious tone and rolling your eyes as you do so.

“I know you want to Charlie, come on…” you giggled at him, but you were drunk and a mess, so the arm around your waist was to stop you from falling flat on your arse not because he just wanted to touch you, you thought. You pushed his hand off you and stood up straight, Charles sighed as he placed his hand back on the small of your back, you looked up at him. The stupid little puppy dog eyes that he refused to listen to.

“I'm too old for you, love.” Charles' hand once again held you close as you started to lose your balance again, “and you're too drunk.”

“Drunk on love.” you exclaimed, Charles laughed, like really laughed and you couldn't help but admire the creases around his eyes. He moved your arm over his shoulder so he could hold you up.

“Let's find Arthur and get you home, okay?” but as Charles pulled away you pulled him back.

“I've waited eighteen years, Charlie, I'm sure I have the patience to wait a bit longer.”

Charles thought maybe you had forgotten that night, but you remembered the way his hand was filmy stuck to the small of your back most of the night, and how he lent down to hear you and how his stubble felt in the palm of your hand, and the butterflies only got worse.

You were falling harder everyday and you hated yourself for it, he didn't like you back.

Charles carried on with his f1 career with alfa romeo that year and you took up a journalism degree, following around arthur as he navigated the world of f3. You would occasionally bump into Charles when the boys had races at the same circuit.

But with his first Monaco race you obviously had to be there to support him.

Charles hated how his heart beat boomed in his ear when he saw you standing in his garage with your old ferrari cap on and an alfa romeo shirt with the number 16 on the back hugging your chest.

You truly had blossomed into a beautiful young woman and Charles found it harder to stay away. Your hair isn't frizzy anymore and you had for sure gone through puberty, he didn't like to stare but he found it hard not to sometimes. Especially on family boat trips when you would wear a bikini in front of him.

The worst part is you hadn't even openly flirted with him in a while, and he couldn't seem to figure out why, and that bothered him so much more than he liked.

The small little y/n that used to follow him everywhere, always latched to his arm, looking up at him with heart eyes. I mean, you weren't sixteen anymore that was sure, but Charles couldn't help but feel a sense of abandonment that you weren't head over heels for him anymore.

Charles needed to snake off that weird feelling in his stomach.

You were now 19 about to turn 20, it was the off season and you couldn't wait to soak up some sun on the leclerc yacht. Your favourite summer getaway.

You drove up to the small paddock on a little beach and climbed onto the grey boat, it was charles’, of course. The whole family was there, you were talking to pascal as arthur pulled you around the side of the boat, nearly causing you to break an ankle.

“Erm hello? Watch it.” you scolded him for pulling you so ruffly.

“You're over the whole in love with my older brother thing, right?” he asked, his hand running through his hair.

“I- i why?” you said, clocking your head to the side at Arthurs panicked manor. He knew you had been doing great this year, and he also knew why you declined every single boy that had attempted to ask you out on a date this year.

“Okay, erm,'' Arthur stood up straight and scratched the back of his head.

“Forget your stuff, let's just get off this boat. And er, don't turn around okay?” he tried to nonchalantly say, his hands gripping your shoulders were a dead give away something was wrong though.

You nodded your head and followed Arthur down the steps of the boat before stopping in your tracks.

“Since when have I ever listened to you? I going to read my book on the sun-”

Your mouth fell open as you turned around to be met with Charles, your Charles with a girl.

A pretty girl, beautiful actually, she was slim and perfect and her smile was enough to make you want to crumble in a ball.

She was leaning on him, grabbing his bicep as her hand brushed through his hair, he was laughing like really and truly laughing at whatever it was she had to say and you had never felt emotions like the ones you felt in that moment.

You felt like he had personally ripped your heart out himself, no remorse, and had just served it back to you on a silver platter.

He really didn't want you.

“y/n, i didn't even know he was bringing her i-”

“You knew?”

Arthur sighed before running his hands through his hair, “it's been around four months, mum really likes her, she's nice. I mean she's not you, but he's happy so i can't complain.'' Arthur shrugged his shoulders, not sure how to console you in that moment.

You turned away from the happy couple and sat on the small steps that lead down to the bottom of the yacht. Arthur sat down next to you, pulling your body into his as he wrapped his arm around you.

“What about me? When will I be happy?”

You hadn't realised you were crying until Arthur grabbed your arm and pulled you straight off the boat.

That was your wake up call, you had spent too much of your life waiting for someone that never wanted you. 19 years to be exact, a sad sad story to anyone that knew you. You were embarrassed and angry at yourself.

You needed to actually move on.

So that's what you did.

And that's when you met him, a young british boy, he was around your age and drove for a papaya team that shared the f1 grid with charles.

Lando norris.

He was 20, awkward, way too cocky for only his second year, and when you bumped into him in Bahrain of 2020 you chose him to be the one to make you move on.

He asked for your number a few races later and the two of you used to text all the time. He took you on cute picnic dates, asked if he could kiss you before he did, and overall was the kindest most respectful boyfriend a girl could ask for. You were actually happy, and it only took nineteen years.

It was imola when you bumped into Charles in the paddock, his brother wasn't here so he was confused as to why you were here, but then he saw the McLaren hat on your head and his eyebrows furred evenmore.

“y/n?”

“Hello, charles.” you gave him a tight lip smile before moving past him but he chased after you why you walked down the paddock strip. Past the ferrari garage.

“You're a McLaren fan now, huh?”

“Yep.”

Charles' heart hurt at your bluntness, he grabbed your arm so you would stop walking and talk to him.

“y/n.” serious charles. That stupid tone that usually made you freeze and obey whatever he had to say.

But this time you rolled your eyes and pulled your arm from his grip.

“Charles, I really have to be somewhere.” you lied, checking your watch.

“Like a journalism thing? Why didn't you tell me you were going to be here, you could have flown with me and Joris?” and Charlotte, but he didn't mention that.

You really tried to pull your eyes from the red drivers suit that was wrapped around his hips, he was a ferrari driver now and you had never been more happy for him. You just wanted to wrap your arms around him and tell him how proud you were of him.

But right at this moment, you had never wanted to create more distance between you both.

“y/n?”

Both of your heads snapped as Lando ran up to you, you coughed and took a step back from charles.

Landos arm wrapped around your shoulder as he put out a fist for Charles to spud. Charles' eyes were glued to landos arm resting on your shoulder and he could feel the blood pumping in his heart speeding up.

Lando kissed your temple and Charles' eyes were glued to yours.

“Charles.” Lando smiled nodding his head.

“Lando.'' Charles' voice was laced with venom, not that Lando noticed.

“So you guys are?” Charles' eyebrows furred pointing between you both.

“We havent you know, labelled it yet. It's still kind of new” you smiled, it had been months.

“But I'm happy, really happy.” Charles knew that was a message to him, you were happy and he needed to leave you be. But with Lando of all people, Charles couldn't seem to shake this one off.

Charles mumbled something about needing to be somewhere and walked away from you both. Lando again oblivious to the interaction as his arm stayed secured around you and he balabbed on about the race as you walked to the McLaren motorhome.

Charles hated him.

Charles hated himself for his feelings.

He didn't know why he was so bothered, he had never been this bothered, nothing gotten to him like you and Lando just did. Joris told him maybe it was because he had a soft spot for you deep down, he joked that maybe Charles liked you back and Charles ignored him for the rest of the weekend at that accusation. But that didn't mean he didnt ignore his words.

It was over, you grew up and he should feel relieved you've moved on, right?

He broke up with Charlotte a month later.

Charles scoffed when you first bought lando along to family night, he hated how your mum loved his accent and how arthur laughed at all his jokes. He hated that he hadn't caught your eye all night, instead your eyes were glued on the stupid little british boys. Charles hated it, he sat there like a toddler that hadn't gotten their own way all night. He knew it was wrong but he hated his feelings more than he hated lando being sat at his table.

Charles was in the kitchen, he was picking at the leftover pie on the table top as everyone else was outside fawning over one of landos stories, he had really charmed the family.

His mother walked into the kitchen as he was taking a bite of cherry pie looking like a caught child, she laughed at the cherry stains in the corner of his mouth and passed him a tissue.

The pair stood in silence for a moment before Pascal spoke up.

“That's definitely not allowed in your diet, my sweet.” she smirked knowing the driver's strict diet.

“But you won't tell on me maman.” Charles flashed his puppy dog eyes as his mum laughed at his actions. She sighed and moved closer to him as he stood up straight.

“You have a lot on your mind my boy, and don't tell me you don't because I gave birth to you, I know you better than you know yourself.”

“Maman.” Charles sighed.

“This is about her isn't it?” Charles' eyes refused to look at his mother at her words.

“I don't even need to say her name, it's her, it will always be her.” she smiled as she walked over to her son and placed a hand on his cheek.

“She's happy, Charles.'' he heard the sternness in his mothers voice.

“So everyone keeps telling me.” Charles scoffed again.

“So then you know you're being an ass, right?”

Charles' eyes widened at his mothers language but she just laughed and waved him off.

“After all the years she spent pining after you, Charles, it would be cruel for you to not let her be happy.”

“But what if I'm not happy?” he asked his mum, she just sent him a sympathetic smile and grazed his cheek once more.

“Do you love her?”

“I dont know.” Charles shrugged.

“See, it would be cruel to break her heart over this kind of uncertainty. Either you love her or you're just jealous. You have a lot of thinking to do my boy, but don't do anything until you're really sure. She's fragile when it comes to you.”

Charles nodded his head.

His mum was right, he really did have a lot of thinking to do.

And as if on queue there she was, walking into the kitchen, the widest smile on her face as she grabbed another beer from the fridge. She had started to let her curls rome free recently and it was sending charles’ heart into a spiral, with her stupid little shorts and crocs and no doubt she had conned lando into giving her his jumper.

She used to do that to him, Charles thought, remembering all the times you had tricked him into stealing his hoodies.

She smiled at Charles mum and told her again that the food was lovely, nodding at Charles, and she left just as quick as she came in.

“Maman, I'm so in love with her it physically hurts me.”

And there it was, the words you had so desperately wanted to hear your whole life, but you didn't hear a sound as Charles vowed to never say it again out loud. Your happiness came before his.

Charle suffered for a year, he knew he loved you, he had said it out loud once and the vulnerability he felt in that moment knowing you were stood just 15 feet away with the boy you were in love with was enough to make him swear to never voice his feelings again, he was embarrassed and wanted the world to swallow him whole. The worst part was the guilt, he could only feel like he had let one of the best things go, slip straight from his grasp all for a bit of pride. He didn't want to be seen with the young naive girl that had a crush on him, but now he just felt stupid. Stupid that he didn't recognise your love for him sooner, he had always thought you were one of the most amazing humans he had ever met, he found himself looking for you in other people when he didn't even know it. He was stupid, and he knew that for sure.

Charles dedicated the rest of the year to focusing on his f1 seat, with ferrari fucking him and sebastian over and over and after his wins at spa and monza he felt hungry for more and felt that the true love of his life should be formula one.

But his heart hurt when he didn't hear from you after his win in spa, and then it crushed him again when you didn't contact him after his result at monza.

No call.

Not even a text.

He had fully let you slip from his grasp.

It was a long year for Charles that year, and as summer break quickly approached he found girls and training were his favourite pastime. He stopped turning up to family events when he knew lando would be there and you were in love and happy. After a while it was a rarity he would even stay at an event for an hour.

He was 22 and as a new season started the only thing he was talking from lando was his teammate, not that charles was complaining. He liked Carlos, and he was ready to step up and take that 1st driver's seat. He was ready to make everyone proud just like you had promised him that night on the beach.

After a while charles mothers birthday rolled around, one he would definitely not miss as his mother requested a small family meal. Everyone was sitting, looking over the menu when Charles undoubtedly noticed the missing presence of you.

“Where's y/n?” Charles asked Lorenzo, who was sitting next to him.

Lorenzo just shrugged and turned his attention back to his menu, was it normal for you to not attend family outings? Charles hadn't been around for so long he didn't even think to consider that maybe she didn't turn up to these things anymore either.

“With Lando I suppose.” Charles murmured, he tried not to sound jealous but the older brother just laughed.

“Lando?” as he turned to his younger brother.

“Why would she- you really haven't spoken to her have you?” Lorenzo asked, his eyes widening at the thought of his brother being so dumb.

Charles just shrugged his shoulders as he urged his brother to continue.

“They broke up, a while ago actually.”

Charles didnt know why his shoulders felt lighter but he chose to ignore it and try to press some more information out of his brother.

“So? First break up, we've all been there, doesn't mean she can't be here for mamans birthday.'' Charles rolled his eyes as he tried to act like he didn't care.

“She's not even in the country charles.”

Charles' head snapped towards his brothers, “She's taking a gap year, last I heard she was staying in Australia for a while.”

Lorenzo could see the gears turning in charles’ head; he knew he wanted to ask more so he answered for him.

“Hey Arthur, where's y/n these days?” Lorenzo asked his other brother who was at the other end of the table with his girlfriend.

Arthur shrugged before answering, “Still in australia at the moment, she really likes it there, but i told her she cant like it to much because there's no way i'm sitting on a plane for twelve hours every time i want to actually see her face and not on a phone screen.” arthur joked, everyone else laughed along with him for a moment until charles countered up the courage to speak up.

“Why didn't she just travel with formula one? She wanted to be an F1 journalist anyway.”

Arthur's eyes narrowed at his brother.

You definitely hadn't meant to cause it, but there was a small crack in between the brothers' relationship within the last year. Arthur definitely blamed Charles and his stupid effects on you for you running away.

“She wanted to be away from f1 for a while.'' Arthur told his brother like it wasn't the most obvious thing in the world, hoping to squash this table subject, not really wanting to talk about his run away best friend.

“I mean I don't blame her, especially when her Lando ended like it did. She's living her best life.” Carla, Arthurs girlfriend chimed in. Arthur slightly winced at his girlfriend's words not wanting this to be the dinner conversation tonight, especially when Charles clearly knew nothing about y/n's life within the last year.

“What?'' Charles asked the table, but no one answered him, instead everyone's heads were down dead planted down at the table, everyone except for Carla who had no idea what she had just started.

“Why did no one tell me what's been going on?” charles raised his voice slightly, catching the attention from everyone else on the table.

Charles mother intervened knowing where this was going, “charles, not right now-”

“No, she's been going through something and no one even thought to mention it? What the fuck.”

Arthur was visibly turning red, Charles noticed as Lorenzo's head was shaking telling his little brother now wasn't the time, pleading Arthur to just bite his tongue.

“Say it arthur.”

The flame was lit.

“And who do you think upset her in the first place, charles?” Arthur tutted, picking up his menu pretending to scan it so he didn't have to pay attention to the conversation anymore.

“Drop it, arthur.” Lorenzo sternly interrupted.

“Considering no ones told me anything how the fuck am i supposed to answer that question?” Charles spat back at his brother.

Arthurs cheeks were a visible red now, he was about to blow up. Something he had been holding in for a while. He slammed his menu down and turned to look at his older brother.

“You know what Charles, you have no right! No fucking right, sorry maman for the language-” charles mum just put her hands up in defence as she let her youngest son get it all off his chest.

“She loved you, and you constantly broke her heart and told her no and then when she was finally happy in a relationship you had to go tell the world you love her so much that ‘it physically hurts you!” Arthur mugged his brother's words.

Charles was shocked, he had no idea what was happening.

No one knew of his feelings towards you, no one except- charles head snapped towards his mother who pulled a tight lip smile and just shaked her head in a no. Charles was about to deny deny deny when-

“Yeah, she heard it. And it fucking broke her charles. It was mean and it was selfish, and I've never despised someone more than you for what you did to MY best friend.”

“Arthur-”

“I'm not finished. Then you have the decency to finally come to a family meal for the first time in nearly a year, nearly a year charles! And ask about her like you didn't completely cut her and us out of your life? You're selfish, completely and utterly selfish charles.”

Charles sat at the table pale, he felt the colour drain from his face as he scrambled to find the words to say but his mouth didn't open.

“You really do pick and choose your moments brother, I don't know why I even came tonight, I'm sorry maman but I told you I wouldn't be able to sit in a room with him.”

Arthur stood up, he grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and took Carla's hand in the other.

“I'm really sorry maman, and everyone else, happy birthday, i guess.” Arthur gave his mother a hug and walked out of the restaurant with carla. Leaving everyone else at the table in pure shock.

Especially Charles, he had know idea what to say, he looked up at his mother opposite him who looked at him with sympathy.

“My sweet boy, I'm sorry to say it but there was some truth to your brother's words. I told you she was fragile.”

Charles felt awful.

Charles felt like he was going to cry at the table.

It had been a long year for Charles, he had groveld for the most of it, thinking you were happy somewhere while Lando flew you anywhere and everywhere around the world. Now he came to think of it, maybe there was a better reason for the young mclaren driver avoiding him.

He wasn't really friends with Lando, but his teammate, Carlos was close with the boy and whenever there was an offer for the three of them to hang out Lando magically had something come up and couldn't attend.

It all made sense now. Even the fact he hadn't seen you in the paddock, he thought maybe you were caught up in your studies, oh how he was wrong.

He sat at the table for the rest of the meal, and with every passing comment he didn't think he could sink more into his chair.

He was an awful person, he thought.

When the family were leaving the restaurant Charles hugged his family members, swallowing the anxiety and embarrassment down.

He looked over at Lorenzo who sent him a sympathetic smile, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Tonight wasn't supposed to go like that, i told arthur to just drop it i-”

“No, it's okay. I deserved it.”

“I dont know, you fucked up, but you didnt need to run, nether did she.'' Lorenzo, his older brother shrugged.

“What happened? With her and lando." Charles pushed.

“alot .” lorezono chucked.

“I don't know if it's my place to-” enzo sighed at that stupid little puppy dog face his younger brother was pulling.

“I'm pretty sure she cheated on him, Arthur said as she fell into a bit of a hole. So the only thing she really could do was just leave Monaco for a while. She seems good, Charles, healthy and happy." Lorenzo shrugged, watching as Charles' eyes widened and he latched onto every word.

“If it's any closure she's not mad at you, Arthur, well I'm sure he would be he loves y/n like a twin sister, but she's not mad at you. She was just confused and hurt.”

“If i call her-'' Charles started but his voice flattened as he realised it would ne dumb to contact you.

“Call her Charles, I'm sure she would be happy to hear from you.”

You knew what today was, arthur's molthers birthday. You had called her in the morning sending her your love and wishes, she told you that Charles was attending the meal and Arthur would be on his best behaviour, little did you know.

You wondered if Charles knew what you were up to, if pascal or lorenzo had been keeping him in the loop.

You were at the beach, cocktail in hand and book in the other, your earphones were in as you hummed to the faint sound of the music and read, but you were disturbed when the rigging was a call from your phone echoing through your earphones, charles.

Pick it up.

You couldn't do it.

Your body froze in place, you pulled your airpods out, throwing down your book, not caring that you lost the page you were on. You took in a deep breath and picked up your phone, and just as your thumb hovered over the answer button, the ringing stopped.

He had called you?

You needed a moment to think about what you were going to say to him, what he would say.

You so desperately wanted to hear his voice, it had been a year, and you wondered if that was enough time for feelings to vanish.

You looked out at the calm seas for a moment, did you really want to fall back into a loop of pining for him like a puppy. You loved him, loved, past tense. You were a grown woman now, so you opened your phone and called him back.

Ringing.

“Hello?” his voice echoed through the phone.

“Charles?”

You heard his sigh of relief over the phone, and your heart melted all over again, he hadn't even spoken yet, but the closeness of his presence made it all too real.

“I'm sorry.”

He's sorry?

“Charles-”

“I'm sorry, okay. Arthurs right, I was mean and I was selfish and you deserved so much more than what I did to you. From the bottom of my heart y/n/n, I'm so so incredibly sorry.”

“It's- it's okay.”

You forgave him.

“It's not.”

There was a silence that lingered for a moment.

“What I said, what you heard, it wasn't supposed to happen like that. I really didn't want it to happen that way.” he pleaded over the phone, his breathy voice echoing through the speaker.

“I want to see you.”

More silence.

“Please, y/n.”

“Okay.”

More silence.

“Soon, okay.” There was promise to your words.

“Soon.” he repeated, as though it was something for him to hold onto.

Soon.

“When I'm ready Charles I'll come home, I'm just not ready yet.” you winced at your own words because you so desperately wanted to see him too.

“Then don't come home- i'll come to you, i'll catch the next plane if i have too just tell me where you are-”

“Charles, I'm not ready yet.” you interrupted him.

Silence.

Charles wanted to cry, hearing your voice and knowing you were just within reach he wanted to see you, hold you, apologise as much as you would allow him to. He wanted to kiss you and hug you and love you forever, but you weren't ready.

“I'll wait for you, okay? Soon or not.” his voice cracked, and god did it melt your heart.

“I'll see you soon charlie.”

This was feeling a little too much like a goodbye for charles.

“y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“Am I too late?’

“Time doesn't apply when it comes to you.” and Charles had hope. He hadn't fully let you slip, yet.

Charles would now spend every waking moment wondering how soon was soon?

But after a while he figured ‘soon’ was a little long, three more months to be precise.

You had left Australia, travelled around more like you wanted to, and you came back to Monaco just before the end of the f1 season.

Charles was already in Abu Dhabi by the time you landed back in monaco.You had asked everyone to not tell him of your arrival.

You were sitting with Arthur in his mothers living room, just like the old days. You told him about your travels while he updated you on his love life and gossip in the paddock.

You had missed this.

And it wasn't until pascal passed you a warm cup of tea and sat with the two of you, sharing her own gossip from the hair salon you realised how much you were ready to be home again.

Arthur had run to his room quickly to grab his trophies to show you and as he walked out of the room your eyes lingered on the suitcases by the door.

“You're going to Abu dhabi?” you asked pascal.

“Tomorrow.” she smiled at you.

Pascal could visibly see the gears turning in your head, she placed a hand on your knee and smiled up at you.

“I don't want to pressure you y/n, and i know you just got back but you should consider it.”

You knew what she meant and you nodded at her with a small smile, and Arthur came back.

You went home a few hours later and sat in your room, if you go you'll see him, but you're going to see him at some point regardless.

You felt vulnerable.

So completely scared, but that didn't stop you from texting Arthur that night telling him you were going to join him and his family tomorrow.

You were going to see him.

Your time was up.

You were ready.

You meet up with the leclerc family at the airport in the early hours of the morning, your suitcase gripped in your hand as you were mentally preparing yourself to sit on the plane and go over any and every possible outcome this weekend could have.

Arthur sat with Carla at the front, and Pascal was fast asleep. But the chair next to you suddenly became occupied when you looked up and saw the eldest leclerc.

“You look well, y/n.” he smiled down at you.

“Thank you.” you smiled back at lorenzo.

“I think the time away did you good, no?”

“yeah, i really needed some space, but now i'm back and just feeling a little..” you stumbled on your words, struggling to describe your emotions.

“Overwhelmed?”

“Yeah, exactly that.”

“Does he know you're coming?” you knew the ‘he’ lorenzo was referring too.

“I dont think so.”

“He's going to be happy to see you.” lorenzo nudged your shoulder.

“I hope so.” you nervously chucked.

You took in a deep breath and looked back at the eldest leclerc brother, “I'm just anxious, I have no idea how this weekend will pan out. The next time I'll be back on this plane going home I could be happy, sad, crying or planning to run away again. I just feel so lost.”

“Lost isn't a bad thing.'' Lorenzo shrugged.

“He's just as lost as you y/n, trust me. I just hope you both figure it out, you both deserve the peace of mind. And if this all goes to shit, you still got on this plane today and tried.”

“I just don't want to get my hopes up.”

“Then don't, sometimes things aren't just meant to be.”

That's what was worrying, you had loved this man for years, and now was the deciding day if he loved you back or not and you don't know if you were ready to give up the fantasy of him

being the love of your life up yet.

You weren't mentally prepared for the shit outcome of this story, you didn't know if you could handle Charles breaking your heart another time.

When the plane landed and the warm air hit your skin you took in a deep breath. Time to face the music.

You went straight to your hotel, it was a Friday so Charles was about to participate in fp1 by the time you turned up to the track.

The smell of burnt rubber and the sound of happy fans filled your ears, you had missed being in the paddock more than you knew. This place was your home.

You were walking with Arthur and Carla when your name was called, judging by the accent you knew it wasn't the monegasque, it was the papaya coloured boy running up to you.

You told Arthur and Carla you would catch up with them as you stopped and smiled at lando who had now reached you.

“Hey.” he smiled.

“Hey.” you smiled back awkwardly.

“Listen lando, you deserve an explanation-”

“It's okay y/n, we were young, it was a while ago you’re forgiven.” Lando chuckled as he poked your shoulder.

“But that doesn't mean what I did was okay, you deserve more than what I gave you.”

Lando gave you a sympathetic smile.

“Consider it done with, okay? No hard feelings.”

You smiled up at the British boy, he looked good, he seemed well and that made your guilt feel a little less painful.

“I erm, I have a girlfriend actually, she's great, her names luisa.”

You watched as he lips upturned at the mention of his girlfriend, he was smitten.

“I'm happy for you landini.”

You both laughed for a moment, the free air was nice. Seeing lando meant there was a weight lifted off your shoulders.

“I just wanted to see how you were doing, I didn't want things to be awkward.” he said.

“I don't think I could ever be awkward around you.” Lando smiled at your words.

“Are you still thinking about becoming an F1 journalist?” he asked, remembering how it was your dream, he had also hoped your disappearance in the paddock for the last year wasn't his doing, stopping you from reaching your dream.

You smiled as he remembered, “I'm working on it.”

“Well i hope i see you around more often then, you deserve it y/n, really.”

Lando was getting called from the other end of the paddock as he had to be in his car within the next 10 minutes, you both shared a hug and it felt nice to feel comfortable with him.

His hands squeezed your back before saying a quick bye and skipping down the paddock.

As he pulled away and walked past, your eyes connected with them all to familiar grey ones you were so nervous to see.

Charles.

He didn't seem too happy though.

He had just watched you smile and laugh with your ex in the middle of the paddock and then hug him bye, even though you thought nothing of it, Charles' mind was spinning.

There he was, a tight lipped smile right opposite you. He had grown out his stubble and he looked tired. You knew he hadn't had the best of seasons with Ferrari, you didn't keep up with it too much, it upset you that his childhood team had failed him massively.

He nodded his head and followed his press officer in the opposite direction, but you weren't going to let him go just yet.

“Charles, wait!”

And before you could process it you were running, sprinting down the paddock after him, but he had already disappeared into ferrari hospitality.

“Shit.” you mumbled as you jogged down to the garages in hopes of catching up with him.

You scanned your pass and walked into the back of the garage Pascal had walked up to you and grabbed your hand.

“You need to put some headphones on dear, it gets loud in -”

“Pascal, where did he go?” you asked her frantically, like a mad woman out of breath.

“Charles?”

“yes!”

A slight smile just appeared on her face as she turned around, “Be quick dear, I think I can see him putting his balaclava on.” She pushed your shoulder and you walked around the red barrer that clearly said ‘no public entry’.

“You can't be back here, ma'am.” a security officer grabbed the back of your bicep.

“No, I need to get through, it's an emergency.” you whined, pulling your arm from his grip.

“I'm sorry ma’am, it's a safety hazard.” the man's grip tightened on your arm as he pulled you away from the back of the garage. You pushed off him but his grip only improved as he swept you off the floor, lifting you up at your attempt to run. You kicked your legs like a child learning to swim and kicked arms that trapped you.

“If you refuse to cooperate, I'll have no choice but to remove you from the garage.” he said, trying to dodge your feisty little kicks.

“And If you don't get your slimy huge hands off me right now i'm going to-”

“y/n?!”

Your head snapped at the sound of your name, Jorris, Charles' best friend.

“Jorris, oh thank god!”

“She's okay, she can come in.” Jorris grabbed your other hand and wiggled you away from the huge security man's grip as he dropped you back to the floor. You brushed off your dress and gave the security man a dirty look before turning to Charles' best mate.

“Jorris, where is he?” your breathing was rapid and your heart beat feeling like it was thumping out your chest.

“y/n you really shouldn't.” he sent you a sympathetic smile.

“Please.” you pleaded with him. After seeing you try to fight a six foot five security man Joris really didn't want to feel the wrath of you right now, so he complied.

“You have five minutes, follow me.” he led you through the back of the garage.

Whenever Charles got in the car he liked to be left alone to his own devices, it was his switch off time, but you knew on some occasions he didn't mind the company, you just needed to talk to him, tell him you were here for him. You didn't want him getting in the car overthinking that you were here for lando.

And before you knew it, there he was, standing in front of you, you were painting out of breath with your hands on your knees as you looked up at him.

Charles giggled as you held up a finger to let him know you were still getting your breath back. He pulled his ear pieces out of his ear and zipped up the rest of his race suit.

“I hate to rush you, but I have to be in the car in four minutes.” Charles frowned, “and four minutes aren't enough for what I have to say to you, y/n.”

“Let's keep it short and sweet then.” you stood up straight and smiled at the boy.

“Im sor-” he started but you cut him off.

“That's not what I meant by sweet.”

Charles squeezed his eyes and winced at his name being called behind him, he opened his eyes and saw you beaming up at him and he knew he was in love, he just wasn't going to tell you yet, especially not if he had just witnessed you make up with lando. Lando made you happy, Lando didn't break your heart on multiple occasions like he had. Charles wouldn't blame you if you went back to the British driver.

You tilted your head to the left and smiled at Chris, Charles' manager. He was pointing at his watch and tapping his foot.

You looked back at Charles and took in a deep breath, you stood on your tip toes and placed your arms on his shoulders, gently placing a kiss to his cheek.

Your soft lips connecting with his ruff stubble is something Charles cherished, he couldn't wipe the Cheshire cat grin off his face.

“I know it's only a practice session, but good luck out there charlie.”

“Thank you.” he smiled, trying to hide his blush. He couldn't believe he was blushing and how the roles had reversed between the two of you.

“What about lando?” he had to ask, it was on his mind.

“I'm not standing next to Lando wishing him good luck right now, am i?” you smirked at him.

Charles smiled before looking back at his manager, he bent down and kissed your forehead like he had done a thousand times, but this time it felt different, electric, it felt like love. It was love.

“I'll be waiting for you, okay?” you told him.

Charles smiled to himself, he wasn't too late.

If anything was on Charles' side that day it wasnt timing. Charles finished fp2 with a few flying laps and a heavy heart, his first plan was to find you but his press officer had forced him to do interviews, and then he had a meeting and then he had checked his watch and it was way past nine and he knew you were probably back at the hotel by now.

He huffeed as he left his meeting, grabbing his jumper and keys and saying goodbye to the engineers that were going to work on the car overnight.

He had it all planned in his head, he was going to get some flowers on the way home, knock on your hotel door and ask you on a date.

“Charles!” called out his manager, he really hoped he didn't have to stay in this hell hole any longer, he just wanted to leave the track and get his girl.

“What?” he huffed.

“She waited.”

“What?” Charles repeated, his manager now having his full attention.

Charles caught the way his manager's lips turned into a devilish smirk, but he wasn't looking at Charles, yet something behind him. When he whipped his head around there you were, his heart thumped at the massively oversized ferrari jacket one of the staff must have given you to keep you warm while you waited.

You just smiled at him and waited for him to walk to you, but charles sprinted, he was a man on a mission and when he got to you his hands slipped around your waist, pulling you up in the air for a moment before he dropped you back down, his hands still remaining tightly wrapped around your torso.

He tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear before placing his forehead on yours.

“Take what's yours charlie.” you smiled.

Charles' thumb gently traced over your plump bottom lip before he placed his hand on your cheek, smiling like an idiot.

He slowly grazed his lips on your before gently adding pressure and connecting your soft lips with his in a quick kiss. A kiss that was full of smiles as Charles pulled you as close to him as possible. Towering over you as he kissed you unlike he had kissed anyone ever. The way your lips moved in sync with his was magic to him, it had never felt like this before.

He pulled back letting you get some air, before using that as leverage to stick his tongue in your mouth, he put all his power and passion into the kiss and it was just as you imagined him to be with you. Sensual and passionate.

Your hands ran along his shoulders and up to his head where you gently tucked on his hair. Charles groned on your lips and eventually pulled back, he giggled as he placed his forehead on yours again.

“All mine, finally.” He said through a wide smile.

“I've always been yours…”

Thank you for reading!! Here’s a gif of baby Charles because this is how i imagined him when y/n had her teenage crush. Bare faced and spiky hair🥹

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clandestineloki · 7 months

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whose pov do i write this in, yn's or miguel's?

miguel o'hara x housewife!reader where sweet cinammon roll yn goes on grocery runs with her husband and she always looks lovingly at this one little white fluffy puppy in the window of a pet shop but never says anything out loud because she knows miguel is probably not interested in keeping a pet. as time passes she becomes more attached to the little puppy and it even knows her!! and it always jumps up to greet her and she gets sadder and sadder because she knows someone else will adopt it and she might never see it again but she can't find it in herself to detach from the adorable little floofy thing 🥺

and one day she's on her own and coming back from the bank when she sees the empty cage in the window of the store. it happened. no little cloud of joy wagging its tail and no muffled happy puppy yapping noises muffled by the glass. she comes home and sees miguel, and falls into his arms quietly sniffling. miguel presses kisses to her hair and rubs her back and wipes her tears away.

"bebita, love, you know i love you, mm? don't keep things from me, wanna help you cus i don't want my bebita sad, okay?" he sighs. "maybe this'll cheer you up?"

in his hands is the little cloud of joy, with its poofy tail swishing side to side and literally vibrating in excitement waiting for its cue to smother his new mami in kisses. miguel smiles cus he's seen you staring at it in the pet store window every time you pass by it and he knows you secretly get lonely when he's at work so he adopted it to surprise you with it as a gift for being so good and patient with him :((

IT'S SO SAD IMAGINE SHE THOUGHT SOMEONE ELSE ADOPTED IT BUT IT WAS ACTUALLY MIGUEL WHO ADOPTED IT FOR HER BUT HE INADVERTENTLY MADE HER SAD

#miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara x you

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sunrise-imagines · 8 months

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Hello! May I please request headcanons for both Simon and the Winter King with a S/O who’s very feminine and girly? Also a bit of a coward/ damsel in distress type? Thank you so much!

No problem! Enjoy :)

Simon Petrikov/Winter King x Feminine! Damsel! Reader

Simon Petrikov:

• To be honest, he’s also pretty cowardly, but although he isn’t as brave and strong as Finn and Jake , when it comes down to it he always puts your safety and wellbeing above all else, even his own.

• Even though he’s scared himself, he’ll try his best to be the knight in shining armor you deserve

• He’ll sit outside the dressing room in stores while you try on dress after dress, always telling you that you look beautiful no matter what you wear. To him, anything and everything looks good on you!

• Tries to help you apply your makeup, but he always gets flustered being so close to your face and might accidentally poke your eye trying to do your mascara (Sorry honey!)

• One thing he is good at is painting your nails, years of handling delicate artifacts has given him steady hands, and with enough practice he can make some pretty detailed designs

• If he sees a piece of jewelry or an accessory he thinks you might like, he’ll save up his salary to buy it for you as a gift. Eating nothing but cheap ramen and coffee for a month is totally worth it when he sees the smile on your face.

• If you ask him to get dolled up with you, he will be a little hesitant, saying that he could never look as good as you, but with enough persuading and some really good puppy eyes he’ll let you put him in a dress and some minimal makeup. Surprisingly, he finds he likes it more than he though he would!

Winter King:

• Literally a match made in heaven.

• Winter King’s whole thing is being the gentlemanly hero who swoops in to save damsels in distress like you, it feeds his ego so much.

• He’s always ready to valiantly save you from any threat, even something as simple as trying to get something off the top shelf. He’ll burst in the room shouting, “ Fear not, fair maiden! Your King is here to protect you!”

• Sometimes he’ll let Candy Queen kidnap you just so he can be the one to save you, he’s that confident that nothing bad can ever happen to you as long as he’s around.

• He is also very in touch with his feminine side, and he loves that the two of you share this!

• He’ll make matching ice themed outfits for both of you, loving how you look in those icy blues and powdery whites

• Like his voice actor BDG, he loves having his nails painted and will set up regular mani-pedi spa days for you both to relax together.

• Will make you a big, poofy princess gown and invite you to dance with him in the throne room, twirling you around like the scene in Beauty and the Beast.

• He just wants you to always feel as beautiful as he thinks you are.

#adventure time x reader #adventure time imagines #fionna and cake x reader #adventure time #fionna and cake fanfic #fionna and cake imagine #adventure time fanfic #simon petrikov x reader #winter king x reader #fionna and cake #sfw #sfw headcanons

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carnivalcarriondiscarded · 6 months

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how about that uhhhhh Fantasy Julie. she gets her sword <3 no one can take it from her <3

rambles:

SIKE you get an extra, lower quality doodle

SIKE AGAIN here's the rambles

yeah... i caved and gave her a tail... I'm Not Sorry! it's cute! i wanted to stick with her sorta flower motif - it's stronger in her princess look, since I imagine that when she was part of the royals she was very blatantly flower power based. it was her Thing!

but a Julie free of her noble shackles... she deserves her big sword. like yeah, she has flower magic, but who needs it when she has a Giant Blade??? on the royalty vein, and if we're classifying "rainbow monster" as a species, i feel like horn size/curve would be a status symbol of some kind. maybe Julie would have kept her horns filed short. but if she ran away from that life... longer horns! i like to imagine that they'll keep growing until she has a pair of Extra Weapons attached to her head! curved forward like mammoth tusks maybe!

i imagine that like Frank, she goes with minimal armor - range of movement over protection, yk? some scale mail over her front, a thick leather flower over her chest w/ scalloped leather pauldrons, wrist armor and metal knuckles! i'd think that the faux-suspenders include a back sheath for her sword... i wish i'd thought of that Before i finished the little ref! i don't feel like going back and editing!

i imagine that she was forced to cut her hair when it got caught in something (a gelatinous cube, mayhaps). it didn't look good! don't let anime and Mulan fool you! cutting your own hair with a blade will not look nice! but someone - Eddie, probably, he's good with scissors i'd assume - cleaned it up for her. and hey, it didn't look bad! plus, Julie probably liked being able to just tuck up her long strands into her hat when she's feeling a bit more like a Julius than a Julie!

it's been a fun challenge transforming their canon outfits into a similar variation with fantasy flavoring and twists! i want them to suit the setting but still maintain Themselves! Julie's was tough i gotta admit. i was messing around with the princess look and the fighter look side-by-side. it worked better when i sat back and thought "fighter Julie is Julie unrestrained. that version would be more aligned with her canon look"

i wanted her princess form to look Restrained! she has to be a ~delicate flower~, a noble woman, pristine and poised and very much a princess. soft colors, poofy clothing, bright white gloves that are not to be sullied. carefully bundled up hair! jewelry! that dress must be Heavy and hard to move in! her tail must be so cramped under there!

but Julie Unleashed? violent pinks! rose gold accents! short skirt so that she can sprint and Kick! fun boots that she can be active in and delight in watching them get dirty! her hair is free to whip in the wind and get caught in things! fun straps and Deadly Accessories! a sword that she stole from the royal armory on her way out the window! she has forearm wraps both to match Frank and to support her wrists!

#yessss this was mainly an excuse to draw jules with short hair and a tail. i do not apologize #i like to think that poppy has a bottomless bag that she's too scared to use herself #but everybody keeps things in there #julie keeps her hair-hiding-hat in there and some pants and a cape for that Julius Vibe #(yes i could have gone with julian. but julius makes me think of orange julius and. yum)#i've said in initial rambles that i think that julie has Mild plant magic #I TAKE THAT BACK SHE'S SO FUCKING POWERFUL #i think she could hold her own against wally here tbh!#she wouldn't win if home had the reins but yk! it would still be Close!#but why would she use boring magic when she can slash punch kick #she can definitely talk to all plants. like im carrying that over thats so cool #trees warning her of an ambush... trodden-on flowers pointing her in the direction of her quarry...#roots arching out of the ground to trip anyone about to beat her in a race #scribble salad #wh fantasy au #so in canon julie left The Cave #which. fuck is that supposed to be a reference to plato's cave? ok no now's not the time for speculation #so she left the cave to seek out a life of her own #so i imagine that she left the royal life for much the same reason! she didn't want to sit on a throne in a poofy dress and lead!#she wanted to Adventure! see the world! be unrestrained!#i imagine that her repeated sneaking out is how she met frank - then when she ran she went to him cause she knew he wanted to leave #and she went 'hey im ditching this joint wanna come' and Of Course the answer was yes!#adventuring duo that never regret it for a second!#also as im making refs im adding them to a Lineup. which i'll post when ive collected all the pokemon (neighbors). size refs!!!

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roosterforme · 6 months

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The Younger Kind Part 40 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When Casey is obnoxious to you once again, you try your best to go about your day even though you're on the verge of tears. Bradley knew he shouldn't have been lying to you, but he didn't see any other way of dealing with things. Especially not when he was making some last minute changes.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, mentions of smut and age gap (18+)

Length: 5000 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

Bradley didn't answer his phone when you called him on your way to work. Casey was trying to bait you, of that you were almost positive. But Bradley was acting strange all on his own, and the twin bakery boxes made you a little more anxious than you wanted to admit, even to yourself.

This was going to be the downside to being with Bradley. He was older and sexy and had a real job and a cute kid, and other people were always going to take notice of that. But he put you in his will. He'd talked about rings, and you'd seen them in his internet tabs. There was no way he wasn't serious about this, because even if he was messing with you, he wouldn't mess with Noah.

But you still felt jealous and petty as you drove to work. That crown shaped donut was adorable and delicious, but at what cost? Now you wished you had taken the time to see what was inside the pastry box Casey had at the daycare. You called Bradley one more time as you walked into work, but of course he didn't answer even though he should still have his phone on him at this hour. The urge to text or call Natasha was strong right now.

After you took care of a few of your patients, you caved and dug your phone out of your bag. Bradley finally responded to you.

Bradley Bradshaw: Hey, I know you said you're going grocery shopping on your way home today, but I need you to pick up Noah. I'll be late again.

You rolled your eyes as you texted him back.

Why exactly will you be late today?

You didn't have time to wait for a response, because you had to get the exam rooms ready for the upcoming patients. Dr. Kelly was dealing with an emergency in exam room one, and there was another child throwing up all over the waiting room. At the rate you were going here, you'd be lucky if you could even get to Noah on time after work. You felt like you were being pulled in four different directions, and you weren't in the mood for Bradley's bullshit.

When nobody else wanted to clean up the waiting room, you went ahead and did it without complaining; it wasn't that kid's fault he had food poisoning. But you ended up crawling around on the floor for fifteen minutes with rubber gloves on, and then you just got more backed up with the child who was waiting for you in the last exam room. You didn't have time to eat lunch, but you took a quick bathroom break and checked your phone.

There was nothing from Bradley, but Natasha had texted asking what you were wearing to Admiral Bates' retirement party. You pressed your lips together and took a screenshot of the poofy purple skirt and top that should be arriving today and sent it to her. Before she could respond, you sent another quick message.

Are you working late with Bradley today? Did you have to work late with him yesterday?

You used the bathroom and washed your hands, and you checked your phone one last time.

Natasha Trace: I haven't been working late, and I followed him out of the parking garage yesterday. That shade of purple is going to look stunning next to Bradley's dress whites. I can't decide between my own dress whites or a formal gown. What's your opinion? Look like one of the guys or look like I'm trying too hard? Like I can't fucking win here, you know?

You absolutely loved that she wanted to ramble to you about her black tie options, you really did. But now you felt uncomfortable in your own skin. She just confirmed for you that Bradley left work on time yesterday. At the bare minimum he was lying to you again, but he could be doing something behind your back that would hurt you even more than that.

"Fuck," you muttered, knowing you had to get back to work. You smiled at your patients and let them take their time picking out stickers all afternoon. You cleaned and disinfected the exam rooms. You entered all of the information into the electronic charts while you answered questions for parents. You did it all without freaking out like you wanted to.

When you were dismissed, you grabbed your things and rushed to your car to make it to the daycare in time to get Noah. Tears already stung your eyes, because you just knew you'd feel so much better when you got to see him and get a hug. You were still trying to decide if it was better or worse if Casey was still here as you parked and headed inside. Then her eyes locked with yours as soon as you entered the small lobby, and she still looked so smug in her cute outfit. But at least this meant she wasn't with Bradley.

"Oh, it's you again," she said pleasantly as you walked to the counter.

You put your hand out for the clipboard and said, "Yep. It's me. Told you I wasn't going anywhere. Could you please bring Noah out?"

"I will," she replied, reaching into that fucking blue box and pulling out a crown shaped donut. She nibbled on the end before setting it down again and handing you the clipboard. "You're the last one to arrive for pickup, which actually makes sense when I think about it. Bradley has you running all over the place for him, doesn't he?"

You ground your molars together to keep your mouth shut and signed your name as she took another bite of the donut.

"I guess that's what babysitters do though. But it's funny that he didn't mention you at all when he and I were at the bakery yesterday."

Your eyes snapped up to meet her self satisfied gaze, and you wanted to rip that pretty donut out of her hand. "Just go get Noah."

"Gladly," she replied, heading for the classroom door. "You're holding me up right now anyway. I need to get back to Sweet Dreams to meet up with someone who looks damn good in a pair of aviator sunglasses. It's so nice having the best bakery in the city right in my neighborhood. It's a great spot to meet up with people."

If Bradley came home with another blue pastry box and claimed he was at work late again, you were going to throw the box back in his pretty face.

"Mommy!" Noah called as he streaked across the lobby to you a second later. "I painted a purple dog for you!" He was holding up a painting of a purple blob with eyes and a nose, and you couldn't hold back your smile.

"I love it," you whispered as you picked him up and kissed his chubby cheek. You made the decision to completely ignore Casey as you turned and walked out to the parking lot. "Hey, we need to stop and get groceries, so how about you pick what you want for dinner tonight."

He looked at you with those brown eyes that were identical to his dad's, except that these ones didn't have to try to look innocent, they just were. "Probably mac and cheese and ants on logs."

"Sounds perfect."

Once you and he got inside the grocery store, you were feeling extra ridiculous. You thought about making it a point to run up Bradley's credit card bill as high as you could by selecting imported exotic fruits and a bottle of champagne, but you just couldn't waste the money. You did buy yourself some expensive chocolate that you ate on the drive home though as you wondered just how late he was going to be tonight.

You were kind of shocked as you pulled down the block with Noah and a trunk full of groceries to see the Bronco parked in the driveway. It was 6:45, so he must have arrived just before you, and you couldn't wait to put him on the spot. You slammed your door before unbuckling Noah from his seat in the back, and you really did feel like the fucking babysitter again right now.

"Let's go, sweet Noah," you told him, leaving the groceries where they were for now. Hand in hand, the two of you walked up to the porch while he told you how many raisins he wanted on his carrots, but you barely heard him. When you opened the front door, Bradley was standing right there in the middle of the living room with a stupid smile on his face. He was holding another blue pastry box.

"Hi," he said, leaning down to kiss you, but you backed away. His face scrunched in concern. "Everything okay?"

Noah was already bugging to see what was in the box this time, and you noticed Bradley had his other hand tucked behind his broad back.

"I mean... no, not really," you said, slightly embarrassed by the way your voice shook. "Did you see Casey at the bakery again today? Just like last night?"

He looked completely taken aback. "How did you know I saw Casey last night?"

You crossed your arms over your chest and whispered, "Why do you keep lying to me about coming home late?"

Bradley sighed and pressed his lips together. "Look, I didn't want to have to lie to you, okay? That wasn't really my original plan, but then things got a little out of hand, and I didn't really see any other option."

"Just say it," you whispered, ready to reach for the box as your hands shook.

"I just wanted it to be a surprise," he said blandly as he pulled his hand out from behind his back. You gasped, and Noah immediately gave up on his mission to get something sweet out of the blue box.

"A dog!" Noah shouted as you looked at the tiny little Yorkshire terrier that Bradley was holding around the middle with one hand. It had a purple bow on top of its head and one leg in a cast, and it was honestly one of the cutest things you'd ever seen in your life. "A dog! A dog!"

Bradley dropped down to kneel so Noah could get a closer look, but he kept his eyes on you as he said, "I adopted her from the shelter across town. It's on the same block as that fancy bakery. She has a broken leg, so we need to be really gentle with her while she's healing, okay?" He set the box down on the floor and sat with Noah, and now you were feeling pretty embarrassed. You still wanted to know what Casey was doing, but you tentatively sat down on the floor as well.

When Bradley held his other arm out, you crawled in to give him a huge while Noah petted the little brown bundle of fur. He was showing how gently he could be, and the dog started licking his hands. You kissed Bradley's cheek, but he looked a little stern as he softly said, "You know I did this for you, right? You and Noah."

You didn't know what else to say, so you simply said, "Thank you."

He sighed and kissed your lips. "I saw Casey for like five minutes while I waited in line to buy your crown donut, okay? The guy from the shelter needed to interview me about getting a dog with an injury, so he and I sat in the bakery for a while and talked. I dropped off a check this afternoon, because they don't accept app payments, and I stopped at the bakery again for you. Then the guy from the shelter came by and did a quick inspection of the house and our backyard like an hour ago. And he left the dog with me. That's all."

You wrapped your arms around his neck and whispered, "I love you, and I love the dog. And I'm happy you got to use your checkbook without anyone laughing at you."

Bradley chuckled as you ran your fingers through the dog's fur. She looked up at you with brown eyes that you swore perfectly matched those of the Bradshaw boys.

"What's her name?" Noah asked as he got his face licked.

"Whatever you want it to be," Bradley replied. "She doesn't have one yet."

You and Noah made eye contact and both smiled brightly. "Skittles!"

Bradley groaned and laid back on the area rug right next to the snag, and he plopped Skittles down on his chest. "You already had a name picked out? And it's Skittles?"

"Yes!" Noah replied, also laying on Bradley's chest to get better access to his new pet.

"We picked a name that could work for a boy dog or a girl dog," you told Bradley, your heart feeling lighter than it had for the past day. "She's so adorable," you crooned as you ran your dand down her back. "Hi, Skittles. You're precious." Her brown eyes were transfixed on your face as you scratched just the right spot behind her ear. "Why is she in a cast?"

Bradley propped his hands behind his head, and the pup carefully walked up to lick his neck and face as you took a few pictures. "Hit by a car. She was abandoned down near Imperial Beach and someone dropped her at the shelter last week. I mentioned I was looking for a small puppy or younger dog that didn't shed, and Bob found her on the shelter website."

"You were left all alone? You sweet thing," you whispered, getting close enough for a lick across your nose. "She's darling!"

"Can she sleep with me in my bed?" Noah asked as Skittles climbed carefully onto Bradley's bicep and then onto the rug. She sniffed around the pastry box before plopping down bedside Bradley with her broken leg sticking out in front of her.

"Maybe after her cast comes off, Bub."

Noah tried his best to pout, but you saw right through it, and a few seconds later he was smiling again. "Noah, what do you say to Daddy?" you reminded him. Then he was in Bradley's arms saying thank you a million times in a row.

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

While Bradley unloaded the groceries, you and Noah played on the living room floor with Skittles. He shook his head as he locked your car. "Skittles," he muttered, hauling the last few bags inside. "You've got to be shitting me." He chuckled to himself. You'd come into his life with your candy and your glossy lips and your sweetness and upended everything. He owned a fucking dog now, and you'd named it after your favorite snack. He even had a reminder in his phone to pay off his credit card balance so he could start shopping for a ring next month.

You smiled up at him from the floor as Noah squeaked a toy and held it out to the dog. Damn it, she was actually adorable. And the shelter gave her a little purple bow when he asked for that color. And she definitely had the puppy eyes down pat, because Bradley couldn't even walk through the room without stopping to pet her.

He ended up carrying Skittles around the house for the rest of the night after you made mac and cheese for dinner. The dog was already trained to go to the bathroom outside, but he needed to be careful with her cast. The staff from the animal shelter had absolutely grilled him for information before they even came out to inspect whether or not the house and yard were safe for her.

"Yeah, this is your yard now," he whispered to the dog as he carried her outside in one hand. She licked his cheek before he set her down and watched her sniff around as it got darker outside. She was only a year or two old, which is what he wanted. This way Noah and potentially his younger sibling could have more time with her as the dog grew older.

"Come here," Bradley called, and Skittles moved as quickly as her little casted leg would allow her to. She stopped at his feet and looked up at him. "Fuck. You really are cute. And I'm going to look like an asshole when I take you for walks." But he was smiling as he picked her up again. When he turned, you were standing in the open doorway.

"You won't look like an asshole, Daddy. You'll look as adorable as Skittles does."

He kissed your forehead and asked, "Is Noah in bed?"

"Yeah. He wants you to go in and say goodnight. And may I please hold the dog for a few minutes?" you asked with a little pout.

"Nope," he replied, kissing your cheek. "Gotta let Noah say goodnight to her, too."

"Then can I play with her?"

Bradley held the dog's face up to his ear. "What's that, Skittles? You said you like me the best and want me to keep holding you? That's what I thought."

"Hey!" you complained, playfully hitting his arm as the pup licked his ear. You looked happier right now than you had earlier, but Bradley knew he needed to have a conversation about Casey. He couldn't understand what set you off so much earlier.

As he carried Skittles toward Noah's room, he replayed the events from yesterday in his mind. He'd been sitting in the bakery for about an hour before he finished talking to the representative from the animal shelter, and when he stood up, Casey was already there. And yeah, she was a nuisance as usual. She put her hand on Bradley's forearm and mentioned that she liked his uniform, but she always tried to do that shit. Then she waited in line like she was with him instead of behind or in front of him, and she went on and on about how she lived right around the corner.

When he finally managed to leave with the bakery box and your cute donut, he was exhausted. And he'd only had to listen to her for a few minutes. Then she stood next to the Bronco with him like she expected a ride home or something, which was ridiculous since she told him so many times that she lived around the corner.

He sighed and kissed Skittles on the head as he carried her in to say goodnight to Noah. "I love her," his son said as Bradley held her so she could lick his face. "I'll be really careful so she can sleep in here with me," he pleaded.

Bradley kissed his cheek. "Not tonight, Bub. I already told you, she needs to heal up first."

Noah reached out to pet her before rolling onto his side with a little scowl, but he was already asleep by the time Bradley left the room. And then he went into his bedroom which always smelled like wildflowers and found you on the bed wearing that sexy little purple nightie you bought online. For a brief second he wondered if you were wearing your plug, but then he remembered he needed to have a conversation with you.

You held your hands out to Skittles, but Bradley just shook his head and carried her to the little plush bed he set up in the corner and set her there. She walked in a delicate circle before plopping down and yawning. "How are you this cute?" he asked the animal before turning back to where you were sitting with your arms crossed.

"Why won't you let me hold Skittles?"

"Because we need to talk," he replied immediately. You flopped back against the pillows as Bradley climbed in bed with you. "Come here," he whispered, patting his chest, and sure enough, you crawled over and snuggled against him. "Tell me what's bothering you."

You draped your arm across his abs and said, "You won't let me hold Skittles!"

"That's not what I'm talking about," he murmured, kissing the top of your head. He didn't want to have to be the one to say it, so he stroked your bare arm and waited.

You sighed softly and said, "Casey always tries to bait me when I see her at daycare dropoff or pick up. I'm sorry I came in hot with you today. But you should hear what she says."

Bradley thought he'd made it clear that he wasn't interested in her after he returned from his last deployment. He made no secret of grabbing at you and kissing you in front of Casey. He knew it was probably because you and she were the same age, and Casey definitely saw the way he doted on you. "She's probably just jealous, because I like to spoil you."

You snorted. "She's jealous, because you're hot, Daddy."

Bradley could feel his cheeks flush with heat as you shifted slightly and looked up at him. "What did she say to you today?" he asked.

Your eyes fluttered closed in embarrassment, and you looked bashful as you whispered, "She made it seem like she met you at the bakery. Like it was something you and she planned ahead of time. And she had a blue bakery box and a princess crown donut, and she ate it in front of me. And now I'm starting to realize how ridiculous this sounds, because I trust you."

"I know you do, Princess," he replied as he looked at your purple crown on the bedpost. "And I trust you. But I just can't believe she did that." He studied your gorgeous face and ran his knuckles along your cheek. "I'm sorry I lied to you about staying at work late. That was shitty. I just wanted you and Noah both to be surprised since you've both been bugging for a dog. I just wanted to get you something special."

"Apology accepted. And dog accepted, too," you whispered as he stroked the soft skin of your neck.

"Listen. I'm not interested in Casey. I'm never going to be interested in Casey. I saw her for five or ten minutes at the bakery, and she asked why I was on that side of town. I told her the other guy was from the shelter and I was thinking about getting a dog. She waited with me in line and practically gave me a migraine from how much she talks. I didn't pay attention to what she bought, so if she had a princess crown donut, then she bought it herself."

You smiled up at him. "Those donuts are so good. Pissed me off that she had one and tried to rub it in my face. She must have heard what you ordered."

He smirked. "Yeah well, you're the one getting cream filled donuts and a cream filled pussy anytime you want."

"Daddy!" you gasped. "That's fucking naughty."

"Get up here," he whispered, and then you moved up his body until your lips met his. "I love you. You're Noah's mommy. You're my Princess. I want to be with you. Don't worry about Casey." But he knew he'd have to have another conversation tomorrow, which he was more than happy to do for you.

You pressed soft kisses to his mustache as he ran his hand up your thigh, curious if you were wearing panties. You were not. "You know what I really want, Daddy?"

"Tell me, and I'll give it to you."

You gently bit his bottom lip before releasing it and giggling. "I want to play with Skittles."

Bradley groaned as you scrambled off of his semi hard cock and climbed out of bed. He got a delicious view of your bare ass as you bent to pick the dog up and carry her back to bed. "You're the cutest little girl! Look at you in your purple bow! Oh, I just love you!"

Then he watched as you climbed back onto the bed with all the care in the world and had the pup cradled against you. When he chuckled and left the room, you didn't even seem to notice. He used the bathroom and went to the kitchen in search of the blue pastry box while he planned out what he'd say to Casey. He wasn't about to tolerate someone intentionally making you uncomfortable, especially when it came to him.

He grabbed a plate and the fresh princess crown donut, wondering if he could get the bakery to make one that looked like a wedding ring. Then he carried the plate back to the bedroom where Skittles was laying on her back while you tickled her tummy. Bradley just stood there and held the plate as he watched you play and listened to you laugh. You kissed the dog and said, "I'm going to buy you a purple collar and leash with Daddy's credit card. And when your cast comes off, Noah and I will take you for hikes around the block. And Daddy is so big, he's going to look so hot walking such a tiny dog. Either that, or he'll look like an asshole."

"I'm standing right here."

You smirked when you looked at him. "I know," you said, scratching Skittles on her belly as she squirmed around. "Is it okay if I order her a leash and some snacks?"

"Get whatever you want," he said, handing you the plate and kissing you before he stole the dog from your grasp.

"Hey!" you complained with a laugh.

"It's time for Skittles to go to bed. Eat your princess donut, and then I'll fill you with cream if you're in the mood for it."

You just looked at him coyly as you nibbled on the donut, and he put the pup in her little bed once again.

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

The next morning, Bradley let you sleep in a little later than usual while he got Noah ready and packed you a sandwich for your lunch. He'd kept you up pretty late, fucking you slow and steady until he got a shaking orgasm out of you. Then he took his time as you babbled and kissed him sweetly, finally filling you up with his cum. He called you his little donut as you fell asleep.

"Fuck," he grunted as he thought about it, starting to get hard in his flight suit as he made your peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

"Morning," you sang as you strolled into the kitchen in your scrubs. You kissed his cheek and then pet Skittles where she sat looking up at the sandwich, hoping some would fall on the floor. Then you sat down next to Noah as he ate his cereal and told you that he loved Skittles even more than dinosaurs.

"More than dinosaurs?" you asked, brushing his hair back from his forehead as he dipped his spoon back into his bowl. "That's a whole lot."

"Yep," he agreed. "I love Skittles almost as much as I love you and Daddy."

Bradley watched you kiss his son on the cheek before you got your own bowl of cereal ready. "Should we thank Daddy again for bringing her home?"

"Thanks, Daddy," you and Noah sang out in unison.

Bradley just smiled and said, "You're welcome. Noah, finish eating so we're not late. Princess, can you put Skittles in her crate before you leave?"

"Yes," you told him between bites of breakfast. "And I'll order her leash and stuff later today."

He kissed you hard before bringing you coffee in the mug that said Noah's Daddy. Then he scooped Noah up and carried him off to get his shoes on. It was getting seriously late at this point, and he knew he'd be in the daycare for an extra minute or two this morning. "I love you, Baby," he called out, rushing back into the kitchen for a second when he was finally ready to leave.

You gave him and Noah one last kiss apiece, and then Noah hugged Skittles. "We gotta go," Bradley told him, rushing him out to the Bronco. It only took a few minutes to get to the daycare, and Bradley had a good idea what he wanted to say. He found himself hoping that Casey was at the front desk this morning, not wanting to draw this shit out any longer.

When he walked Noah inside, hand in hand, Bradley saw her right away. She looked up at him with parted lips and a little smile as he tugged his aviators off. Then she looked at his son and said, "Good morning, Noah!" Her eyes darted back up as she added in a softer voice, "And Bradley."

He watched her walk Noah into the classroom before he signed his name on the clipboard. When Casey walked back toward him, there was nobody else in the lobby. He held out the clipboard for her and said, "I'd actually prefer it if you called me Lieutenant Bradshaw."

She giggled as if she was being treated to something even better than use of his first name, and Bradley had to fight the urge to roll his eyes. "Okay, Lieutenant Bradshaw," she whispered, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

He cleared his throat. "Can we chat for a minute?"

Casey set the clipboard down and came to stand alarmingly close to him. This was every bit as bad as you had claimed, and frankly he was more than a little bit surprised by how bold she was. Bradley took a step away and shook his head. "Look Casey, this is never going to happen."

She froze on the spot, and her cheeks turned a soft shade of pink. "Oh."

"Right. And I really don't want to have to go to your boss, so I need you to just knock it off, okay? My girl and I don't keep secrets from each other, so I know about how you talk to her, and I don't appreciate it at all. She's as good as being Noah's mom and my wife."

Now her cheeks were a deeper shade of red, and she was rushing back around to the other side of the desk. "Okay," she whispered. "I'm just surprised she said something to you about it."

"Don't be. Like I said, we talk about everything. And if you pull some more shit, I'll hear about that, too. Promise."

He stood his ground until she looked up at him. All she said was, "Okay," and then Bradley put his aviators back on as he turned toward the door.

"You have a great day."

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

Casey, you literal nightmare. She'd be delighted if she broke them up. Can't wait to see her next time Princess shows up. And Daddy shouldn't even try to be sneaky. Just no, Daddy. But welcome, Skittles! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 41

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coralinnii · 11 months

Text

❋Keeping your scrunchie for you❋

Who would keep your scrunchie for you, and would even do your hair feat: Ace ⭑ Sebek ⭑ Azul ⭑ Jack genre: fluff, humor note: reader has hair that uses scrunchies, reader has hair for long hair hairstyles, established relationships, no pronouns used,

I know it's been a while but I have been meaning to write. I just have what I'm calling Silver Syndrome where I fall asleep at any given moment and lose track of time ^_^' whoops

This is sorta self-indulgent since I’m also guilty of always forgetting my hair ties at my friend’s place and when I need one, they would come to me with their arm filled with them xD. Since then, we would always have spares on each other in case any of us need them.

Getting him to keep it

At first he was gonna tease you. What? Do you feel the need to lay claim on him that you want to leave something of yours on him for all to see? You know there’s more than a hair tie you can leave on him-

Oh, you’re just forgetful and you want to have a spare on him if you need one? You guys are practically attached to the hip so there’s logic to it, to you anyway.

He's so gonna fight you on it. It’s one thing to ask him to keep spare some small hair ties on him, heck if you let him use them on occasion he wouldn’t mind at all. But it was those poofy, colorful scrunchies that he can’t even hide underneath his jacket sleeve.

But he loses this fight with you (he always does when it comes to you) and ends up with a cutesy hair tie that contrasts heavily against his black school jacket. He had to fight the embarrassed flush every time he got teased, especially by his upperclassmen like Cater and Floyd.

Don’t let his loud complaining fool you, though. Despite all the teases, he still keeps your scrunchie out in the open when he could have easily stuffed it in his pocket. He secretly likes fidgeting with it during class, partly since it’s really soft and partly that it reminds him of you. He thinks a lot about how pretty you look when you have your hair up.

Would he tie your hair?

Yes, but he wasn't great at it. At first, he can do a simple ponytail but that’s all he really knows about hairstyles. I mean, he only ever ties his bangs back so he’s not the most creative in the hair department.

Have some patience with him as he sometimes messes up and gets your hair tangled. He’s a fast learner so he’ll get the hang of it.

Once he’s used to it, he’ll start experimenting with your hair by giving you goofy hairdos like a unicorn horn on your head. He once tried to make round cartoon-like “ears” with your hair for giggles. But he always offers to brush your hair back to normal each and every time.

Actually, Ace likes to mess with your hair a lot more often now because this gives him a chance to brush your hair. He enjoys the intimacy of the activity, like you two are in your own little world with no one to disturb you. He can spend hours just running his fingers through your hair while you chat about anything and everything.

“Hey, stop moving around so much! Don’t go complaining to me if this new hairdo turns out bad”

Getting him to keep it

Definitely gonna fight you on this. He argued that you should be responsible enough to remember to keep spares on you at all times. It’s your own fault for being so forgetful about your own things. Plus, it goes against his dress code and he can’t bear to ruin Malleus’ reputation just because his loyal knight has a bright puffy scrunchie on his wrist.

You decided it’s fine if he can’t do it but it did bum you out a bit. Imagining the serious Sebek with your bright scrunchie on his wrist would be the cutest thing to see but you didn’t want to push it if it caused this much arguing.

But Sebek noticed your declining mood and started to have conflicted thoughts because of it. Would it really make you that happy to see him with that tacky thing on his arm?

The next day, Sebek came up to you and wordlessly raised his arm towards you. Confused, you asked the green-haired freshman what’s wrong.

“...I shall allow it”

“What?”

Apparently, Sebek couldn’t get your sad face out of his head all day yesterday, ruining his mood and causing him to stress out with worry. Lost as to what to do, he did what he tends to do in these situations, and asked Lilia for advice. The older fae chuckled at poor Sebek and assured him that a trivial piece of fabric would hardly ruin Malleus’ image so he is free to decide what he wants to do.

And Sebek wants to make you happy.

“Give me your cursed scrunchie, human”

Would he tie your hair?

Again, he’s going to fight you on this. He claims he has better things to do but really he’s just terrible with styling hair and was scared if you didn’t like his work. Unless you want your hair gelled up like his, he doesn’t know what else he can really do with hair in general.

Still, you encouraged him to try and with you boosting his courage, he started trying simple hairstyles like braids and ponytails. He was a little clumsy but always up to improve himself. He soon became more confident and would even offer to tie your hair up during P.E classes or club activities.

He especially likes trying out hairstyles that are trendy with his fae kind, like braiding flowers into your hair. The people of Briar Valley are more traditional with their appearance and more extravagant hairstyles are typically reserved for special occasions like parties…or weddings.

The way Sebek’s cheeks burned when he couldn’t stop thinking how beautiful your hair might look for your wedding…with him as your husband-to-be. Your hair would be absolutely ethereal no matter the style, considering that it’s you-what was he thinking?!

Best not to bring up his bright face or he’ll start yelling out of sheer embarrassment.

“...Well, is this to your liking? It is?...I see… What?! I was not worried, don’t be absurd!”

Getting him to keep it

For the right price, sure.

I’m joking (kinda) but honestly Azul wouldn’t mind it since it wasn’t that big of a request. I firmly believe that he has more than enough pockets with his dorm uniform.

Anyone who would even try to tease him about it would just be asking for humiliation as Azul would respond swiftly with some backhanded comments.

“Embarrassing, you say? Well, I suppose having a lover that relies on me so would seem tiresome to some people. However, I'm afraid I'm just so smitten with my adorable lover who just trust me so. Sighhh, woe is me”

This octoman would play the “no b*tches?” card. Such poor, unfortunate souls

But one day you needed a hair tie and you asked Azul if he still had your spare. The merman then pulled out a scrunchie you didn't recognize from his pocket

“Azul Ashengrotto…whose scrunchie is this?!”

Before you start to panic, Azul quickly explained that he came across this scrunchie at a store in the town near the campus.

“I thought this would look good on you, so I bought it in hopes it suits your taste”

Even though Azul tried to sound casual, there was a cute flush coloring his cheeks that he was trying to hide behind his gloved hand. He knew you had enough hair ties and you could always buy more yourself. But, he just couldn't stop himself.

That scrunchie was now your new favorite accessory.

Would he tie your hair?

Contrary to the previous boys, Azul has a better sense of style due to his entrepreneurial nature and his dedicated interest to keep up with the most marketable trends.

I also believe that since Azul is a mommy’s boy, he paid close attention to his mother’s hair styling routine. However, he realizes that it won’t exactly be the same considering you both are not in the ocean and he himself is adjusting to life with dry hair.

But he won’t be stopped by his inexperience. He would research the best hairstyles for your hair type and what would amplify your natural features. Every chance to do your hair was a chance to improve his skills. Get real comfortable because you’ll be his guinea pig for hours. At least you’ll be a beautiful guinea pig by the end of it.

At first Azul had some insecurities about keeping you for so long, surely you would be bored being with him for so long and having him practice with your hair, especially when you wouldn't really gain much from it other than a mess on your head most of the time.

Please reassure him that you love these intimate moments with him and you trust him wholeheartedly with your hair.

“I’ve heard stories that speak of mermaids that used to lure humans with their beautiful hair. I thought it foolish to be so easily charmed…but seeing yours, I suppose there’s some truth to that.”

Getting him to keep it

Grumbled about it at first but will keep it for you. Any exasperation was mostly just you asking him because of your tendency to forget them than anything else. Despite his grumpy look, Jack wasn’t going to fight you on something as trivial as holding some hair ties for you. Would question you what’s so great about scrunchies, though (they’re adorable, ok?!)

All he asked was that it’s a scrunchie that doesn’t get in the way of his daily routine, and if you could pick one that would be a bit water resistant or dark in color since he’s worried that he would get it dirty during his work-out routine or spelldrive practice at Savanaclaw.

He honestly doesn’t understand why anyone would make fun of him for holding a scrunchie for you. He's whipped because you trust him with your stuff? This man just can’t relate to loser behavior.

Even if he's not a fan of scrunchies, he’s still incredibly careful with your hair tie, making sure that it’s either tucked safely under his sleeve or mindful to avoid accidentally snagging the fabric on something.

If he just recently got the scrunchie from you, he can still smell the scent of your shampoo on it as it starts mixing with his own scent. Don’t tell him but some of his dormmates can see his tail slightly wagging when he glimpses down to his wrist every now and again where your hair tie is.

Would he tie your hair?

He’ll fight more on this. You guys are in an academy, you should be able to tie your own hair. Don’t be lazy, he stated.

But watch him later try to excuse his actions when he suddenly pulls your hair back with your scrunchie during lunch, just so your hair doesn’t get in your face as you ate. You honestly forgot he still had your scrunchie and Jack was getting frustrated watching your hair constantly falling forward every time you tried to reach your food.

Since Jack has younger siblings, he has some experience with tying someone’s hair despite having fairly short hair himself. It’s nothing too fancy but he’s pretty good with some basic hairstyles

He’s really gentle with your hair, occasionally pausing to gauge your expression to ensure you’re not in pain. Sometimes you have to be careful or you might just fall asleep with how Jack’s large hands softly handle your hair like it was silk.

“This should keep your hair out of your face. Huh, how do you look? Don’t ask stupid questions…you already know you always look good…No, forget I said anything!”

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #ace trappola #ace trappola x reader #twst ace x reader #sebek zigvolt #sebek x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul x reader #jack howl #twst jack howl #twst jack x reader

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angel-of-the-moons · 5 months

Text

Small Surprises

Moon Knight System (Marc/Jake/Steven) x Single Mother!Reader

TW/CW: Some mentions of past childhood abuse, cheating partner, mostly fluff

A/N: Like the Symbrock one I did, this one will be one whole fic with a few times skips here and there! This fic will also explore a bit more into the autistic side of Steven as a character, based off my own experiences with my autism, tics, habits etc! Also, once again, featuring snippets of the hobby headcanons done by @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction! (I love those headcanons so much they are canon as far as I'm concerned asdfghjkl)

Taglist: @chrishy973 @katitakenway @queerponcho

EDIT: Part 2 is out now!!! Read it here!

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Another droll day at the museum, the same disinterested customers and more nagging from Donna. Honestly, Steven was lucky he got his job back at the museum--though he only surmised it was due to the fact nobody else wanted to work for Donna--but he was grateful for the extra income.

And it definitely helped provide a distraction from Jake's night activities for Khonshu, as well as Marc's from time to time.

But of course, even though it provided a distraction, it wasn't much of one.

That is... until the day a poofy mop of curls bounced into the gift shop, eagerly looking at the wares within with big sparkling eyes. The child couldn't have been older than four--maybe five--as she happily looked at the myriad of items available.

Contrasting to most of the little girls he's seen come in (which, were admittedly few) she didn't immediately run over to the cheap horse figures with the chariots or even the cat plushies.

She went right for things like the plushie scarabs, the statues...

This of course had Donna proverbially chewing her nails as she watched the unaccompanied minor scamper about the gift shop.

"I'm going back to do inventory," She warned Steven. "If she breaks anything, it's coming out of your pay, Stevie."

Steven ground his teeth when she called him that, and waited for her to walk away before muttering. "What little you do pay me, you bloody old biddy."

Steven fixed his name tag and walked up to the little girl, crouching next to her as her chubby little face scrunched in what appeared to be distaste.

"Hey there, poppet. What's got you upset, eh?" He asked, his big brown eyes meeting hers as she crossed her arms with a huff.

"They don't look right!" She complained.

"Oh? What doesn't look right?" Steven asked patiently, a warm smile on his face.

The child pointed to the small canvases and posters of the various Egyptian gods. Namely the ones of Bastet and Anubis, and in particular of the two, one of the canvases depicting Anubis surrounded by shrieking souls and flames.

He himself had raised a complaint with that depiction, as after his own time in the Egyptian afterlife (alongside Marc, and unbeknownst to them at the time, Jake) he knew the afterlife was not like that. While they hadn't met Anubis himself, they were guided and weighed by Taweret.

But he wholeheartedly agreed that the artwork of Anubis was entirely wrong, and frankly, offensive.

"'Nubis isn't like that." She said, stomping her little foot. "He's nice!"

Steven raised his eyebrows at her, tilting his head as some stray curls fell over his face. "Oh?" He asked. "Then tell me little one, how is Anubis?"

"He's--!" She scoffed, rolling her eyes in the typical fashion a child does when they feel like they're explaining something painfully obvious to an oblivious adult.

"He's a good dog-man." She says to him. "He doesn't mess with skulls n' stuffs! He's nice, he helps people who might get lost when they die."

'That's a hefty subject for a kid.' Marc's voice spoke.

"No kidding." Jake remarked. "Where are her parents?"

Steven meanwhile, was positively thrilled that one so young understood that Anubis, while being the god of death, was not evil. And... naturally this sent him into info-dump mode.

"Why, yes! Anubis is good." He held up a finger as the little girl looked at him, awe on her face that he understood what she was saying and was willing to actually talk about it.

"He guided souls once they left their earthly bodies." He explained, grabbing a small replica of an Egyptian temple front. "Once their hearts were weighed, if they were good, he would help guide them to the afterlife. If they were bad..."

"They got ate by the crocko-lion!" The girl finished with a gasp.

Steven suppressed the urge to laugh at how she described Ammit. Jake and Marc meanwhile, held no such compunction and were laughing their asses off.

"I like this kid." Jake said as his laughter died down.

"Yes! They did. But did you know they also had to be judged? Not just with the scales?" Steven grinned at her as she bounced on her heels, the palms of her hands rubbing on her coveralls as she listened.

"Now that subject is very lengthy...." Steven leaned over on the flats of his shoes and plucked a small book about the Egyptian afterlife and mythos and showed it to the little girl. The cover was emblazoned with raised gold print; with images of sarcophagi, and motifs scattered on the front and back.

"But it's always worth a good read." Steven continued. "Now, if you want to know someone else who sometimes assists those who've passed on?"

The little girl plucked the book out of Steven's arms, nodding, her eyes tracking the way his mouth and hair moved. Not once did she make eye contact, instead settling for staring at other features instead.

Steven could understand, sometimes looking into people's eyes was... oof. It was difficult and frankly sometimes it made him uncomfortable, made his palms itch and the hair on the back of his neck tickle.

He stood up, and walked to another shelf, the little girl trailing behind him, the book looking three sizes too large for her tiny body as her little light up sneakers squeaked on the waxed linoleum.

Steven reached down, then, and grabbed a plaster statuette of a familiar feminine shape sporting a hippo head and kneeled back down, showing it to her.

"This is Taweret." He beamed proudly.

"She's the nice hippo lady." The child peeped, staring at the statue with rapt attention.

"Yes! Yes, she is! Very nice." Steven chuckled. "But she's also the goddess of motherhood and children, did you know? She protects women when they have their babies, and helps them."

The little girl nodded, "Yeah, I read a thingy 'bout her! She's--"

"Victoria! Oh my god." A breathless voice called from the front of the shop.

The moment Steven lifted his gaze, he could feel his heart catch on his throat when he saw you. Even Marc and Jake went quiet as you approached.

You were wearing some faded-out jeans and a t-shirt with a faded band logo that hugged your figure very nicely. You had a backpack slung over your shoulders and the keychains dangling from it tinkled and clacked as you moved, rushing to scoop up your child.

Steven could easily see that Victoria got her looks from you, those gorgeous inquisitive eyes, her nose, hair texture...

Jake had to give him the mental equivalent of a slap to stop his gawking as he stood up awkwardly, wiping the hand not holding the statue on his jeans as he gave you what he hoped was a charming smile, but judging by your wariness, you obviously weren't thrilled at the sight of your daughter talking to a strange man.

Steven was about to speak up, but Victoria did so instead for him, not reading the tenseness in the situation.

"Steven's my friend!" She beamed, holding the book in her pudgy little fingers, showing you. "He knows about 'Gyptian stuff, too!"

Steven blinked, feeling a blush creep up on his cheeks as you looked at him, raised eyebrows. It took him a moment of awkward glancing away to realize Victoria knew his name because she read his name tag. He hadn't once said it to her. Hell, he only knew her name because you said it when you ran in!

"Ah... Yes. I work here, in the gift shop. Egyptology is a major... um." He struggled to find a word.

"Hyperfixation?" You sigh, the tension easing from your shoulders as you smile tiredly.

"Oh! Yes. I s'pose!" He said, blinking his big doe eyes at you.

"Yeah, Victoria is... well." You chuckle, propping the young child on your hip with practiced ease. "She's obsessed with the stuff! I swear, the stuff she can shove into her noggin with how much she knows of ancient Egypt, it feels like she was born in the wrong era, I'm telling you!"

Victoria smiled happily and snuggled into you, rubbing her cheek on the soft fabric of your shirt with a content hum, almost like a happy little cat.

You didn't pay any mind to her as she rubbed her face on you, instead conversing with the man in front of you.

"Ah... A little scholar to be, eh?" Steven laughed awkwardly.

"Hah, more like she already is one. With everything she knows, I swear she outpaces me in the IQ department." You sigh fondly, brushing a stray curl from your daughter's face.

Steven's eyes anxiously tracked your movements, how your fingers curled, the way your eyelashes brushed your cheeks when you blinked, the way your foot tapped on the floor...

"I'm surprised she talked to you. She's normally very introverted." You hum softly, raising those drop dead gorgeous eyes to lock with his before he awkwardly dropped his eyes to your lips whilst you spoke.

"But then again, if you started talking about this stuff with her, it's no surprise. I'm the only person she talks to about it because nobody else understands."

You noticed his Steven was looking anywhere but your eyes, and how he nervously licked at his lips, his fingers wrapped around the statuette in his hands tapping idly.

"Oh! She's a lovely little conversationalist. Rather well-knowledged as well!" Steven replied, looking at Victoria again, who grinned as she once again rubbed her face on your shirt.

"Honestly, she's more learned than half the adults who try to talk to me about Egypt." He huffed out a chuckle.

His eyes dropped to the picture of Anubis that initially offended the child. "We got into a little debate about how inaccurate those pieces of Anubis are."

"Oh, don't get her started on those inaccurate artworks... She despises them!" You laugh softly.

"Oh, I fully understand why! It's so offensive!" Steven gasped. "Especially to a culture! Anubis is not an evil god by any means!"

"Oh yeah, believe me... we watched a movie the other day and she had a meltdown because they made Anubis the bad guy. She was so distraught it took thirty minutes to calm her down." You smile with infinite patience at your little girl.

"Oh, poor little dear! But I can totally understand that." Steven smiled, finally locking eyes with you as he reached some level of professional comfort with you.

"Mommy, can I get em?" Victoria peeped, interrupting you before you could get another word out.

"Hm?" You hummed at her, raising an eyebrow.

"The book and hippo lady!" She replied, holding up the book.

"Hippo Lady?"

"Yeah!" She said, sounding a little exasperated, pointing to the statue Steven clutched in his hands. "Her! Tawar!"

"Taweret." Steven chuckled softly at her mispronunciation.

"Tawww--" Victoria frowned as she tried to get the word out. "Tawweret."

"Close 'nough. I'm sure she wouldn't mind." Steven smiled warmly, holding up the statuette.

"All right, all right." You laughed, following Steven to the counter so you could check out, having another nice chat about what he and Victoria discussed. He even tossed in a little keychain that held a preserved scarab beetle in epoxy, much to Victoria's delight!

What you didn't know as you left the shop, was how positively smitten he was with you already.

That was your first meeting with Steven Grant.

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A few weeks crawled by, and every other day you were at the museum, letting Victoria lead you by the hand as she animatedly discussed what every object or picture meant, and you struggled to keep up, making mental (and a few digital) notes on what she was talking about. Of course, she insisted that after every tour, you stopped to say hi to her new "bestest friend" Steven.

You were thrilled that you found someone who operated on the same wavelength as your daughter, knowing that it was hard for her to make connections with other children, let alone adults. But Steven and Victoria took to each other like ducks to water.

And hey, he seemed harmless enough. Cute, too, beneath that mop of curls. You even started researching more just to be able to tag into the conversations between your daughter and her unlikely friend.

Today, you were at the local grocer and Victoria decided that she wanted to walk with you instead of riding in the trolley on her tablet like she normally did. You were happy, but ensured she kept her noise cancelling headphones over her tiny ears to make sure she stayed comfortable.

You had picked up a pack of steaks to examine the cuts when Victoria slipped your hand free of hers and darted off, squealing, "Steven!"

You almost dropped the steaks when Victoria darted down the aisle and wrapped her arms around the legs of the man she ran towards.

One minute Marc was looking at a box of matzahs, the next, he had a child clinging to his legs.

His whole body froze as he looked down, immediately going rigid as the little girl looked up at him, babbling something he didn't quite understand because of how quickly she was speaking.

He did make out the name "Steven".

"Uh--" He said awkwardly.

"I'm so sorry!" You say, hastily bringing the trolley up to the two. "She just got excited to see you, and..."

Your brows furrowed as you looked at him. He looked like Steven Grant, but he didn't feel like Steven Grant. His normally messy curls were combed back neatly, his flannel hanging open with the sleeves rolled up and T-shirt untucked from his pants. His big brown eyes were wide, looking at you with a face that simply pleaded "Help me".

"Uh..."

"I'm... Marc." He said in an unmistakably American accent.

"Oh. Oh!" You lean down and scoop up Victoria, hastily plopping her in the trolley, willing yourself to ignore her little wobbling lip as you messily search up her favorite video to watch on her tablet to prevent the simmering meltdown you could see just beneath her surface.

"I'm... I'm sorry. You just look like someone we know from the museum, and..." You sigh, rubbing your hands together as you cringed.

"Steven, yeah..." Marc said, giving a stiff smile in return as he dropped the box of what looked like crackers into his basket looped over his elbow.

"You..."

'Play it cool, Marc...' Jake's voice softly warned.

"We're, uh, brothers. Triplets. All identical." He spat out with haste.

"Oh! Well... That's... That explains the looks, huh." You smile, hoping to ease the awkward tension. His explanation didn't sit well with you for some reason, as to why he suddenly blurted it all out. But you chocked it up to him trying to explain to avoid upsetting Victoria.

"But, yeah. Um... Your brother, Steven? He and Victoria are like, best friends now. She looks forward to seeing him whenever we're at the museum." You chuckle softly.

Marc's eyes soften as he smiles, giving Victoria a gentle look. "Yeah, uh, Steven's told me about her. She's a smart kid, huh?"

"Oh, yeah. A real genius." You smile at her as she starts tapping away at her tablet, selecting one of her drawing apps and beginning to scribble.

"Sometimes I can't keep up with her."

"Hey, that's good. She'll go places." Marc replied.

Your smile falters a bit. "Yeah, if people will give her a chance..." You mutter.

Marc was about to ask what she meant, but he kept his mouth shut, watching as Victoria was engrossed with her tablet, her little feet wiggling and tapping on the sides of the trolley as she moved her mouth silently, mouthing words to herself.

"She's... Eh." You rub the back of your neck. "She normally doesn't come to the store with me. She says she can hear the lights buzzing and it upsets her, which is why she has to wear her headphones. I mean I can't hear the lights or anything, but all I need to know is that she can..."

"Yeah, Steven is the same way sometimes. It makes him twitch so he has to wear headphones when we go shopping..." Marc said, frowning.

"Yeah. That's something I'm kind of amazed about. Victoria doesn't really have any friends outside of well, me... and your brother? Steven and her are just... man, they're like two peas in a pod!"

Marc stays quiet as you smile fondly at your child, and he notes the relief in your expression as you recount that your child was able to finally connect with someone. It warmed his heart to know that Steven was able to socialize with someone who shared the same mannerisms, even if she was just a kid.

His eyes flicked down to your hands as you put your hands on your hips, and noted the lack of wedding ring and a ring tan line.

'Focus, cabrón.' Jake snickered.

"She's autistic. It was a pain to get her diagnosed, but we managed. I could tell she was different. Namely how she would act with fabrics." You sigh.

Now that grabbed both Marc and Jake's attention. If Steven were aware and co-fronting, he was sure he would be rapt as well. Steven explained the fabric thing to hime a few times, but being in the same body it was still hard at times to understand that Marc or Jake could feel one thing but Steven could feel another.

"Uh... Fabrics? You'll have to forgive me, but..."

"Oh! It's a sensory thing." You explain, rolling your hand. "With her, it's fleece, or satin-like textures. They irritate her and make her fussy. As a baby I never understood why she flipped out when I would put her little socks on her until the doctor explained it when she was older. But for some people it's cotton, or microfiber... The way Victoria describes it is that it's, uh..."

"Scratchy." Marc murmurs.

"Exactly!" You snap your fingers.

"Yeah, Steven is the same way. Though he's not like that with satin, he usually prefers cotton--the super soft kind? Or silk." Marc nods, shoving one hand in his pocket.

"Yeah... It's thankfully easy to shop for her, she prefers cotton and soft microfiber. It's why she rubs her cheek on my shirts or pants. Some people mistake it for being affectionate--and don't get me wrong sometimes it is--but usually it's a grounding thing." You sigh softly. "It helps her calm down."

"Ah... Sounds hard. What about her dad? He know how to handle it?" Marc asked curiously.

He immediately felt bad when he saw how your expression fell, and you glared at the ground.

"He skipped out on us while I was pregnant. I caught him in our bed with someone I thought was my best friend the day I found out she was a girl." You spit, angry and full of venom.

Marc cringed. "God, your best friend? In your bed? That's a whole extra level of degeneracy..."

"I know! Ugh! I swear, if he wasn't stronger than me I would have stabbed him that day!" You groan.

Marc rocks his head back in shock at the admission. "You were gonna stab him?"

"When you're five months pregnant, hormonal, tired, and sore and walk in on your fiancee doing the deed in your own bed? Yeah, emotions get high." You run a hand through your hair, smirking as you looked back at him.

"Grabbed the knife right outta the block and lunged at him. Chased em both half naked out of my flat."

'Shit, I'd be in love. That sounds sexy as hell.' Marc could just imagine the grin that would be spread across Jake's face at that.

Marc laughed, unable to contain himself, both at the retelling of your story and Jake's remark.

'You got problems, Jake.' Marc shot back mentally.

'Pot, meet kettle...'

'Touché...'

"So it's safe to say, he's out of the picture, huh?" Marc says, his laughter dying down into a soft chuckle.

"Oh yeah. Had his parental rights severed, and kicked his sorry.... well. I tossed him out and told him that my "best friend" could deal with him and his lazy antics, considering I pay for the flat."

"Yikes. Sounds like a real dirt bag."

"Oh yeah, he was. I have no idea what I saw in him, to be honest... And knowing that Victoria isn't "normal" like other kids, I feel like he would treat her badly, or... hurt her." You say, shaking your head.

"Hey, if he shows up and does that just call me." Marc grunted. "I hate it when people do that crap to kids. I'll knock his teeth down his throat."

The words slipped out before he could stop them, and the weight of them almost made them feel oppressive as glimpses of his abusive childhood shone through. The memories of his mother swinging her arm down, the crack of the leather belt, the red, bloody welts in his skin...

'Ay, hermano. Come back, don't think about that.' Jake's voice said gently, urging that door in his mind shut. 'That's not your life, anymore.'

Marc blinked and looked back up at you, his eyes locking with yours. And the concern on your face... he felt so undeserving of it. He wasn't sure why, but...

"Ah... I mean... Let's just say I have experience with that sort of thing. So I'm..." He struggled.

"No, no, I get it. My dad was a piece of shhh..." You cringed as the word almost slipped from you, casting a short glance to Victoria, making sure she couldn't hear you. "Er. He was bad. So yeah, I totally get you."

"Oh... Sorry, people get weirded out when I..." He rubbed the back of his neck.

"Disassociate." You finish for him. "I used to do the same thing when it came to my dad. It gets easier once you're free of it, I promise."

The soft, sweet smile you give him was strong enough to make his heart jump into his throat.

'Wow...'

'Ask. Her. Out. Steven won't do it, so you do it!' Jake urged him.

Marc choked suddenly, coughing awkwardly to clear his throat at Jake's further commentary.

"You okay?" You ask him.

"Y-Yeah, I just... Uh..." He cringed again. "It's... allergies! I've been dealing with them since we dusted the flat, and... Yep. Allergies."

You chuckle softly at him as Victoria tugs on your sleeve and whispers in your ear.

"Oop, mama duty calls. It was nice meeting you, Marc." You grin, giving him a short handshake.

"Yeah... You too." Marc replied as you walked off, giving Victoria a wave as she peeked over your shoulder as you push the trolley away.

'Allergies? Smooth, Marc. Really smooth. How the hell did you ever bag Layla with romantic skills like that?' Jake sighed sarcastically.

'I swear Layla probably only married you for your dick, man. You're so BAD at romance.'

Marc knew Layla did love him, at one point but with all the drama of being Moon Knight, it quickly snuffed that relationship... They were still close of course, but they'd never open up to another intimate relationship again. Which was fine, none of them minded particularly.

Especially not now. Not now that there's a cute single mom with and adorably--scarily--smart little girl on her hip to occupy those thoughts.

And that... was your first time meeting Marc Spector.

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Now, meeting Jake was different. Completely different. You technically "met" Jake weeks after you met Marc and built a rapport with him.

One night, Jake was sitting in the window, munching on some saltines he'd spread with sunflower butter as he read some old knitting patterns in a book he'd picked up at a resale shop.

He thought he could knit something for both you and Victoria and have Steven give it to you, it would be a good way to start actually flirting, to hopefully open up that door for all of you.

But of course... well. He knew Steven was way too shy to ask you out on a date, and Marc was too chicken shit and awkward about the subject to bring it up himself.

And so, it fell upon Jake Lockley to find a way to get closer to you, two. He understood that many single mothers found it tricky to date, especially with a child like Victoria. It would require immense levels of trust to get past those walls you would have put up to protect both you and Victoria, especially after you'd told Marc about Victoria's biological father fucking your best friend the day of your ultrasound.

He could just imagine how your poor face fell when you closed your front door, hearing the ridiculously high-pitched, false moans and the squeaking of the mattress as that miserable excuse of a man was having his way with your supposed "best friend"...

All while your hands would have clutched the pictures of your unborn baby girl, tears bubbling up in your eyes as you screamed at them while they scrambled to cover their shame.

And then.... as you told Marc, you would have grabbed the knife and the rest was history; bidding goodbye to that cheating bastard and woman you once trusted.

You were strong, loving and oh so patient with your daughter and her needs. Jake found your whole being attractive, honestly. He hadn't seen you angry, but he just knew you were a badass if you wanted to be.

He chuckled as he picked up his knitting needles, and began to loop the soft, thick yarn through each line. He was sure to pick yarn that wouldn't upset Victoria and her sensory issues, so he picked the softest yarn he possibly could, selecting enough to make the both of you matching jumpers.

Victoria's would be a little big, to allow for comfort and her to grow into it as she wore it. He could just imagine how adorable she'd look with the sleeves hanging over her little hands, squirming and giggling as you two played together--

Jake's hands stopped knitting.

Shit. He had it down bad for you, too.

When he looked down, that's when he noticed the green laser pointed right at him...

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You were there, simply cleaning up the mess from dinner as Victoria happily colored on her dry erase board, drawing the shapes and hieroglyphs she saw in the book Steven selected for her.

She had been quiet and engrossed in her little art project for so long that you jumped and almost dropped a plate on the floor when she squealed loudly.

"Mommy, it's Steven! Or Mister Marc?"

"Huh? What?" You looked around your flat, for some reason your brain told you to look inside instead our our the window where her little finger tapped the glass excitedly.

"No, there!" She insisted. "Over there!"

You walk over to her and lean down, looking out the window.

And sure enough, across the street, in the building across from yours, an apartment had the curtains open with the lights on.

In one of the windows, at a desk, sat a man. The streets were close enough together that you could make out some details. The shadow of a mustache being the first thing you zeroed in on, and then the immaculately slicked-back hair.

He looked like he was... knitting? This man, who looked like Steven and Marc. Marc and Steven both mentioned on different occasions that they had a brother named Jake, maybe this was him?

And wow! So close by, too!

Victoria waved her arms, trying to get her attention, but the man was so absorbed in his task that he didn't notice her try to get his attention. When her little disappointed sniffles could be heard, you snap your fingers.

"I got an idea!" You say, dashing to the end table by the front door and rummaging through the various keychains you'd accumulated. It was a guilty habit of yours, you found.

But then you pluck up the laser toy and run back to the window. It takes shaking it once or twice for the green light to illuminate, but when it does, you shine it directly through the window and at the man's chest.

Then, he looked up.

You break out into a happy grin when he spots the two of you, and Victoria giggles with unabated glee as she waves some more, her whole tiny body moving with every shake of her overly excited hand.

You see the man smile back and he waves at the both of you.

"Hey, baby, why don't we use your board to say hi?" You suggest, rubbing her shoulders.

"Yeah!" She giggles, grabbing the board and erasing her painstakingly re-created drawings from the book, and messily scrawled the word:

Hi :)

The man laughed and looked around until he grabbed a notebook, scribbled something with a marker, and held it up for you two to see.

Hello

You chuckle as Victoria hands you the board, knowing that your writing is neater than hers is, and with how excited she is, she was bound to mess up.

You quickly and clearly write something down and turn the board to face the window.

Steven or Marc?

He smiled at you and scribbled back.

Jake

Marc n Steven told us about you. Hi!

They've told me a lot about you, too.

"That's Jake, honey. Remember what I said? How Steven and Mister Marc look alike? He's the same way." You explain to Victoria.

"Oh." She sighs. Poor little thing seemed dejected that once again, she misidentified someone as her "bestest friend".

You lift your eyes as Jake showed what he put on the notepad next. It was a badly drawn cat with a happy face on it.

You can't help but laugh and grin, nudging Victoria to look at what he drew for her.

"It's a kitty!" She gasps, snatching the board from your hands to draw pictures for him.

You spent much of the evening that night with Victoria and Jake drawing pictures back and forth, writing messages until he ran out of paper.

That's when you put down your phone number and told him to text, to make it easier on Victoria.

Victoria, upon realizing this, dropped her board and snatched your phone, starting a video call with Jake and chattering his ear off. He seemed to take it in stride, engaging with her. Not on the same level as Steven, but something about how he handled it gave you the impression he had experience with kids, or even worked with kids.

He didn't talk down or dumb anything down for her, he spoke to her calmly and clearly like he would anyone else, and the fact he was so sweet was endearing to you.

He was even teaching her little words in Spanish. For some reason, she liked to repeat the word "cat" because she liked how it sounded, and it was "funny".

That was how you met Jake Lockley.

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It was now half a year since you'd indirectly met all three "brothers" and quickly, the pressure was beginning to mount on them to reveal the truth to you as their crush developed more and more into full infatuation with you and your darling girl.

But they still hadn't asked you out, yet. They'd come close a few times, but it was never when Jake was in control so Marc and Steven backed down at the last possible moment. Every time Jake was in control it wasn't a "good moment" for them to propose a date with you. But now?

It was late in the year, the harvest festival being over with and the holidays around the corner with Christmas, as usual, dominating all others. Snow and ice encased everything. It came early this year, and Victoria couldn't be more thrilled. (She could build snowmen with her friends, Steven, Mister Marc and Mister Jake!)

You and Jake would text, and he gave in and told you that he, Marc, and Steven all actually lived together and he would "let" Steven or Marc use his phone so he could video chat with Victoria and you.

You didn't know the boys all shared the same phone regardless.

It was nice having a social life again, even if it was small. Outside work and ensuring a comfortable upbringing for your little girl, you'd forgotten how nice it was to have friends. Even if those friends consisted of three identical, quirky brothers who lived in the flat across the way.

The day was coming soon, for when they would have to confess to you about the true nature of their identities. And the three unanimously agreed that they would tell you about Moon Knight.

For your safety, and Victoria's. They didn't want you to agree to date them (if you ever would) only to find out they snuck out in the dead of night to do the bidding of some creepy ancient bird god who could frankly do with a wardrobe update...

They just didn't anticipate that day to be today. Of course, Steven would rather have broken the news to you over a nice dinner in the corner booth of a quiet restaurant. Or even on a nice walk through the park...

But no. No, it had to come out when you decided to pull out your phone and go through your texts or the day as Victoria sat in Steven's lap on the couch of your living room.

Jake had sent a meme earlier in the day, of a little cat wearing a sombrero and you chuckled. You sent a meme back in reply, of a snail holding some maracas on some drawn-on arms.

That's when Steven twitched when the phone in his back pocket vibrated and chimed with a silly little ringtone.

You blinked at him as he fished it out of his pocket, careful not to knock Victoria off balance as he checked it. He awkwardly cleared his throat and gave you a strained smile as he set it on the coffee table in front of you.

"You okay..." You say, eyeing the very familiar phone. They could just have the same model and case...

"Oh, yes, just an email alert, luv. Don't worry 'bout it!" Steven chirped, quickly shifting his attention back to Victoria as she practiced her reading from the book in her hands.

You squint at him suspiciously. Your finger hovered over the send button when you selected another silly little image...

But you decided to call instead.

That's when a song began to chime. One you recognized very well as Steven's favorite song...

♫"Lonely is a man,

Without looove~"♫

'God damn it, Steven! You forgot to put it on silent again!' Marc's panicked voice shouted inside their headspace.

'Ay, hermanito, not now!' Jake groaned.

Steven began to sweat profusely as Victoria handed the phone innocently to him, urging him to answer it, not making the correlation with the song, or your phone number...

Steven shakily held the phone to his ear and answered.

"H-Hello..."

"Steven." You deadpan, raising an eyebrow and tapping your finger on your arm.

'Shit shit shit shit.' Marc hissed.

'Busted.' Jake almost sang.

You look at Victoria, hesitant to interrupt her time with Steven, but you wanted answers. Why is it that none of the men ever agreed to all meet up in person to hang out? Why did you only ever see one at a time? Yes, work was a convenient excuse, but every single day?

And then there's the phone!

Yeah, you weren't letting Steven wiggle free from this talk, even as Victoria pouted and trudged back into her room to play with her toys.

You almost feel like a cop in a bad movie, the way you lean back with your arms crossed, almost like you were an interrogator in a police precinct.

Would this make you both the bad and good cop?

You felt so bad, knowing that this kind of behavior would only freak Steven out, so you relaxed your jaw and posture, leaning away from him and giving him breathing room as his sweaty hands began to pat nervously in the memorized tune of that specific song that was just playing.

"I'm not blind, and I'm not dumb... So start from the beginning." You sigh. "I don't want anything to come out and upset Victoria, but I have to know who I'm letting around my little girl."

Steven licked at his slightly chapped lips, taking his bottom lip between his teeth briefly.

"Okay..." He peeped.

'Just take it slow, Steven.' Marc urged him gently.

'I can take control, if you want.' Jake offered.

"No, that's too much right now." Steven muttered aloud, without thinking.

You tipped your head to the side. "What's too much?"

Steven jumped and covered his mouth, his big doe eyes wide as can be, like he's a little boy who was caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out.

He despised awkward situations like this. He could never tell what to say to keep someone happy and to avoid them getting angry with him...

"Steven, I'm not mad. I'm honestly confused. Please... Just... Tell me everything, okay? I just wanna know some things." You say, leaning forward to put your hand on his knee, your ever so patient eyes sweet and understanding.

Yeah, those eyes were his undoing.

"Do you know what Dissociative Identity Disorder is?"

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Whatever you had originally expected to hear from Steven, finding out that he, Marc and Jake all shared the same body was a lot to absorb. Especially after Steven blurted out about their superhero alter ego that apparently did bidding for an Egyptian god?

Steven expected you to be mad, braced himself for it, but instead, he and his two headmates were knocked entirely off center when you made the remark that if Khonshu ever got to be too much for the boys, they should lock him in a room with Victoria and her never-ending questions.

That would shut him up for a little while, surely.

Another thing you weren't expecting was the date proposal from Steven (and of course Marc and Jake).

You hesitated, at first... But...

They were so kind and sweet. They already have shown so much care for you and your daughter... And you were honestly happy to realize that you weren't crushing on different guys, that your feelings were no longer awkward and conflicted.

Or wait, were you crushing on different men? Yes they were completely different identities, but they shared a body, and... oh, this was gonna take time to learn more about.

Your first date was for later that week. Steven informed you it would be Jake, taking you out, as he felt like a "bloody awkward fool" and was afraid of messing it up, and Marc was just as bad at those social situations.

But you agreed, and when the date rolled around, you and Victoria were bundled up, all ready to go to the charming little Italian restaurant somewhere in town where apparently Jake was friendly with the employees there.

Victoria skipped in the snow, struggling to match her pace with yours, making sure her footsteps were measured so her prints mirrored yours exactly as she walked on her little tippy toes.

As you approached where Jake had his car parked, he smiled, his mustache quirking up as he scooped Victoria in his large gloved hands, laughing when she dragged her fingers over his hairy upper lip, comparing the stache to a caterpillar.

You stifled a snort and covered your mouth as you watched Jake buckle Victoria into a booster seat in the back of his car.

"Where did you..." You blinked. You fully intended to run back to your flat and grab the booster seat you owned, but you were surprised to see Jake already had one. A rather expensive-looking one, at that.

"Ay, cariño, you didn't think I'd let the little chiquita ride unprotected, did you?" He smirked at you, his dark eyes glinting mischievously.

"But, I have one. You didn't have to..."

"Hey, if it makes it easier, I'll be happy to foot the bill." Jake hummed, leaning in to check Victoria's buckles as she played on her tablet, snow-caked shoes kicking lazily as she did.

Normally, Jake was insane about his car. He always made sure his fares cleaned their damn feet off before getting inside. But for you two he willingly made the exception.

"Now, c'mon mamacita." Jake grinned at you once more as he enabled the child lock and closed the door on Victoria's side. "We got lunch to get to, right?"

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You couldn't remember the last time you were on a date. Actually wait, you could. The night you got pregnant. One of the only times Victoria's sperm donor was ever romantic with you, and he proposed the next morning after.

Yeah, you knew how that story ended.

But now it looked like a whole new book was being written right in front of you, as cliché as it all sounded.

Jake had treated you both well, engaging happily and drawing with Victoria on the activity mat the restaurant provided as you sipped your glass of red wine, watching; your heart was fluttering in your chest as you watched how happy she was interacting with them.

After a while, he went back out to his car and returned with a sparkly red gift bag for the two of you and you immediately felt your heart lurch up from your chest and into your throat.

He knitted the two of you matching jumpers. A mama cat and her kitten, of course, he managed to do it in an Egyptian style, much to Victoria's glee as she ripped off her regular jumper in favor of the one Jake made, immediately rubbing her face on the sleeve with a happy giggle.

You couldn't help but smile warmly as Jake helped her pop her head through the top, and you decided to slip yours on, yourself.

God, it was almost surreal how Hallmark it all seemed. Not one, but three men interested in you, a lonely single mother. All three men who adored your daughter and treated you both with respect. All three men, who shared the same body and nighttime secret.

And you found yourself falling just as hard, and somewhere in the back of your mind wondered if--if--you had met them first... would they have been Victoria's father(s)? Would they have rejoiced in your pregnancy? Gone to your appointments, held your hand in the delivery room? Would they have helped the doctors weigh and print Victoria for the very first time?

Your mind was knocked out of the what-ifs when your phone jingled, catching Jake's attention.

"Oh, it's Victoria's pediatrician. I have to take this." You sigh sadly, not wanting to step away from the cozy atmosphere in your booth.

Jake smiled at you and winked, "Go ahead and take it. I got her handled."

You smiled back, hoping the flush to your face wasn't as obvious as you feared as you got up and answered the call.

Jake continued to play and draw with Victoria, letting her explain how some of her learning games worked, what apps were her favorite, and who her favorite cartoon characters were.

Honestly, if anyone thought Steven was great with Victoria thanks to their same autistic traits? Jake was good simply because he was a natural with kids. Marc was, too, but he was a bit stiff and nervous. He needed to be eased into it just a bit more.

"Hey.... Psst. Mister Jake." Victoria whispered to him, blinking her big, bright, gorgeous eyes up at him.

"Yeah? What is it, gatita?" Jake hummed at her, grinning.

She waved her hand, urging him closer as she whispered conspiratorially, cupping her hand over his ear, "Look where Mommy's standing."

Jake lifts his gaze to find you among the crowd of people, where you stood on your phone, talking to the doctor about Victoria's upcoming appointment. He tracked where Victoria was pointing, and that's when he saw it: the mistletoe.

He knew immediately what Victoria was hinting at.

"That means you gotta kiss my Mommy." She whispered to him again.

"Oh, I do, huh?" Jake teased, poking her in the side. "And what if I don't?"

"Then Imma make you!" She squeaked and giggled.

"Oh, dear, then in that case I definitely have to do it, eh?" He chuckled.

"C'mon." Jake said, scooping Victoria up and holding her on his hip. "Let's go give another present to your wonderful mamá."

As they got closer to you, he caught the tail-end of your conversation.

"...yeah. Next Wednesday at 3pm. See you, then, Doctor Wilson. ...Of course! Happy holidays." You say cheerily, ending the call.

When you turned around, you saw Jake holding Victoria against him as he walked closer to you.

The sight really shouldn't have taken your breath away the way that it did...

But if you thought your breath was taken before? It was entirely robbed from you as Jake leaned in, wrapping an arm around your waist as he tipped his head down to kiss you, his mustache tickling your nose and upper lip.

You were so taken aback that you didn't hear the whooping and laughing from the workers of the restaurant as the scene unfolded in front of them, congratulating Jake.

Victoria squirmed and squealed and laughed and laughed, rubbing her face on Jake's leather jacket as your lips finally parted and your jaw dropped.

"What's the matter, mamacita? Cat got your tongue?"

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God, dating those men was the best decision you ever made. Even with them being Moon Knight.

They were kind enough to always say goodnight to Victoria before they went about their business, giving you a soft kiss before whichever one was in control of the body departed.

You had only been dating a short while, it was now entering February and you were all spending more and more time together. Marc, Jake, and Steven had all spent the night once or twice in their own time.

Nothing sexual happened, but it was so nice to fall asleep with someone wrapping their arms around you. It was even better to wake up and see Victoria snuggled onto his chest, his arms caged around her protectively, flexing when she made any movements as his unconscious body ensured she wouldn't roll off of him and--god forbid--onto the floor.

It was a few days before Valentine's, and Marc had spent the day with you and Victoria. He had gotten much more comfortable around her, falling into a natural and gentle routine unique to them. Just like she had with Steven, and Jake. And above all, they handled her autism well.

Steven was exceptionally good at helping distract her during her meltdowns, whereas Jake could cradle her, singing little songs in Spanish as he rubbed her back. Marc would start by talking to her in a low, gentle tone, urging her to just breathe, and talk, explaining what was upsetting her and what would work best to help her calm down from it.

But right now, Victoria was in the midst of a battle against sleep.

"Don' wanna sleep." Victoria sniffled into Marc's jumper.

"I know, babydoll, but you'll feel loads better once you do, mkay?" He murmured quietly to her as he padded, barefoot into Victoria's almost obnoxiously canary-yellow bedroom.

"I can make some apple pancakes for you in the morning, hm? How's that sound?"

He dodged the minefield of toys scattered about and chuckled softly at the shelf where her little ancient Egypt memorabilia sat meticulously organized alongside her books and drawings on the subject. A half-finished paper sarcophagus lay on the desk in the corner, a project Steven had started with her two days ago that they intended to finish together.

Marc laid her down and she nodded, rubbing her eye. "Okay..." She mumbled in agreement.

Marc picked up the plushy scarab that Steven bought from the gift shop and handed it to her, tucking her in all nice and warm.

"There you go." He said softly to her, kneeling next to the bed. "Snug as a bug in... well. Blankets, right now, huh?"

He grinned when Victoria giggled groggily at his pun, squeezing the beetle plush she named "Digger" and snuggled under the blankets, her feather lashes brushed her cheeks as she began to drift off.

"See you in the morning, babydoll." Marc said softly, giving her a kiss to her forehead before standing.

His finger had just flipped the switch to turn off the lights in her room, so only the salt lamp dimly illuminated her bedside, when he heard her peep as she rolled over.

"G'night daddy."

He felt like his heart stopped beating as he shakily closed the door, dragging his suddenly very heavy feet through your flat as he made his way to your couch, the weight of that word landing on his shoulders.

He felt like Atlas, carrying the world on his back as he dropped down onto the chocolate brown cushions.

You walk over, having finished dishes from dinner, wiping your hands on a tea towel. Upon seeing his shell-shocked expression, you sit next to him in concern as he covered his face with his hands, his arms shaking and skin pale.

"Marc, sweetie, what's wrong?"

"I..." He said, his voice breaking.

You lean in, reaching out to brush a hand through his mop of curls, letting him take his time. Maybe Steven or Jake was trying to front? You've seen how taxing it could be on them when it happened so suddenly. One time Steven had seized control in the kitchen from Jake and he fell and cracked his head open on the counter! Poor Victoria cried when she saw how much he was bleeding, scared that he was dying.

It took a lot of hugs and kisses to convince her otherwise...

"She... God. Fuck." Marc swore softly, sniffing. "She--she called me daddy."

Your jaw dropped and you gawked at him. Was Victoria already so attached to him? To them? But then again, she's never had a father figure, before, either, and suddenly having not one, but technically three men in her life doing all the things a dad should do? You can understand why she would--hell, why you would...

He dropped his arms and you could see the beginnings of tears clump in his beautiful eyelashes, heavy weights of emotion settling deep in his chest.

He looked up at the ceiling, trying to blink the tears away. God, he didn't deserve all of this. He didn't deserve this... this domesticity. Guys like him just didn't get to have a life like that. Not with everything he's had to do as a soldier, a mercenary... in Khonshu's name.

He didn't deserve such a beautiful woman, or the idolized gaze of her sweet and innocent baby girl.

'You're too hard on yourself, Marc.' Steven said to him in their headspace.

'Yeah, hermano...' Jake murmured.

"Marc, honey..." You say, leaning in and adjusting your position, so your head lay on his chest. You spread your hand over his heart, feeling how it hammered in the muscle of his chest.

"I just... What the hell did I do to get this?" He asked softly, bringing his arms around you to bury his nose in your hair.

"Well, I think it all started the day a certain little girl wiggled free of me and ran into a gift shop..."

Marc chuckled, squeezing you tight.

"Would you want us to?" He whispered. "Would you want us to stay? Would you be okay with that? I know it's soon, and--and I'm not saying we move in or anything like that, but..."

"I think it would crush Victoria if I ever shoo'd you boys away, honey." You assured him, tipping your head up to give him a sweet kiss.

You feel the tension slowly bleed from his body and his expression softens into a heartbreakingly sweet smile, his dark eyes sparkling with a warmth that you haven't seen before as your lips parted.

"Then we'll stay. As long as you both will put up with us." He said to you, his voice so quiet you almost couldn't catch his words.

"How do Steven and Jake feel about her calling you daddy?" You smile slyly.

Marc grins and drops his head back with a laugh, listening to the bickering of his headmates as his anxiety ebbed away.

"Oh... They're arguing over who Vicky is gonna call daddy next."

"We need to think of nicknames for you guys so she doesn't confuse you." You laughed with him.

Your laughter was cut short when you heard Victoria's door click open, and out she waddled, blanket clutched in one arm, Digger firmly squeezed into the crook of her elbow and her thumb was in her mouth. She only sucked her thumb when she was frightened, or severely anxious.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Marc asked, shooting to his feet even before you could, at her side in a split second.

You joined him and put your hands on her shoulders, looking into her drowsy and not-entirely-awake eyes. "Did you have a bad dream?"

She shook her head, mumbling something around her thumb.

"What is it, kiddo?" Marc inquired next.

She pulled her thumb out of her mouth with a pop.

"There's a bird-man in my room."

#moon knight #moon boys #moon boys x reader #steven grant x reader #steven grant #marc spector x reader #marc spector #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley

886 notes · View notes

onlyhuis · 1 year

Text

wedding night

member — husband!cheol x wife!f reader genre — smut, fluff, newlyweds au word count — 2.3k synopsis — seungcheol just wants to treat his wife right on their first night together as husband and wife. content warnings — cheol calls reader his wife, reader is described wearing a big poofy wedding dress (also a garter), half of this is filth and the other half is cheesy flowery prose oops smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (reader receiving), praise, fingering, edging, some begging, briefly some spitting & marking, lots and lots of making out, sex while mostly clothed, implied shower sex at the end, cheol has a fat marriage kink and so do i notes — this is inspired by the delusional staff at pledis who decided the concept for fml carat version should be wedding photos! i am crazy. like very much i am so unwell rn. anyway not saying this is for @duhnova but this is definitely for @duhnova

your breath hitches as seungcheol hikes your wedding dress up your leg, layers of soft fabric bunching up between his fingers. his breath is hot on your now-exposed thighs.

flat on your back on the king-size hotel bed, you’re still in the dress you walked down the aisle in. the same one cheol had insisted you wore at the reception; the same one you wore on his private plane on the way to your honeymoon spot where he could barely keep his hands off of you, but resisted because he wanted your first time as husband and wife to be extra special; the same one you had trudged through the hotel lobby in, wrestling the gown into the elevator up to the private suite he had bought.

you grasp the material, struggling a little to hold it all up and out of cheol’s face. “baby, it’ll be easier, i can take this off—”

“no,” he interrupts, tugging on your legs to bring you closer to his mouth, and you yelp, sliding further down the bed. “want you to leave it on. let me fuck my wife in this gorgeous dress i married you in.”

you whine, cunt clenching around nothing at the way he calls you your new title. his wife.

he pushes your skirt up higher, finally revealing what he was searching for: a lacy red and black garter wrapped daintily around one of your thighs. he groans and leans closer to your leg, his teeth grazing over your skin and making you shiver.

he looks up at you, and you can barely see his face through all the layers of silk and tulle, but you can clearly see the familiar lustful look in his eyes. he runs his teeth along the garter, pulling it between his teeth and then letting go to snap it against your thigh.

you hiss at the sting, but the momentary pain quickly fades when your husband grabs your dress from your hands and pulls it over his head, hiding himself between your legs and wrapping his lips around your clit.

you arch your back, hips lifting off the bed when his tongue begins to prod into you, swirling wet circles around your entrance as you writhe in his grip. you can’t see anything that’s going on, except for his legs hanging off the edge of the bed behind you, his top half completely covered.

without the fabric in his way, it’s easy for him to hold your thighs apart beneath the dress, pushing them down hard into the bed so that no matter how hard you try to close your legs around him, it’s impossible to move an inch.

your breath catches in your throat as his tongue moves through your folds, and you can feel his saliva and your wetness dripping down onto the inside of the dress. it’s going to be a pain to wash, but laundry is the last thing on your mind when cheol suddenly pushes his index finger into you, curling up and against your walls at just the right angle that it makes you clench down around him as hard as you can. he curses, the sound muffled underneath the layers of the dress, but continues fucking his finger in and out of you, barely enough room for him to move but somehow he finds a way.

you barely even notice when he slips a second finger inside, followed by a third, your juices pooling in the palm of his hand as he thrusts into you.

as if you weren’t already wet enough, he detaches his lips from you and leans his head back, spitting directly on your pussy.

you cry out his name, lifting your hips to chase his mouth as he uses his tongue to smear the mixture over your folds. he presses his face deeper into your pussy, his nose rubbing directly against your clit, and you feel yourself drawn closer and closer to the edge with each movement, all of it accumulating until you feel like you’re about to snap.

but at that exact moment, cheol’s fingers slide out of you and his mouth leaves you with a pop, and everything you’d been building up to crumbles away in a split second.

“seungcheol, please—”

he pokes his head out from beneath your dress at the mention of his name, bunching the fabric up at your hips. cold air hits your aching cunt, exposed to the temperature of the room now that your lower half is no longer covered, and you whimper at the sudden change.

cheol’s fingers play with the garter’s elastic band, a constant reminder of his presence though you don’t feel any stimulation. “what is it, baby? tell me what you need.”

your cunt throbs, and you whine in frustration, reaching out for him with shaky hands. “need you, cheollie, please. want you so bad. please fuck me.”

he groans and shifts over the bed, leaning over you to capture your lips in his. you taste yourself in his mouth as your lips part, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth.

most of his weight is supported by his arms, holding himself over you but still low enough that you’re pressed chest to chest. his suit jacket was shed long ago, and now you tug at his shirt, silently begging him to take it off so you can see him.

and of course he obliges, readjusting his position until he’s straddling you, so he can keep kissing you as his fingers quickly work to undo the buttons of his shirt. as soon as he shrugs it all the way off, he puts his forearms on either side of your head, falling forward to get closer to you, lips smashing with yours like he’s fighting for breath and you’re the only one that can give it to him.

you can feel him rocking his hips against yours subconsciously and you moan, his erection pressed against your stomach through his pants. you manage to pull away from him for a second to breathe, leaning your head to rest against the pillow as you struggle to get oxygen into your brain.

but this only opens up area on your neck for him to mark, and he dives back in fervently, biting and sucking at your skin. you’re sure he can feel your pulse racing beneath his lips.

he bites at your earlobe particularly roughly and you gasp, hands flying up to grasp at his toned back muscles, clawing and trying to pull him even closer than he already is. your eyes flutter shut when he reaches up to cup your chin in his hands, tilting your face back towards him so he can kiss you again.

it seems like you’re there for hours, both almost completely clothed, tangled up on top of the bed with your lips crashing together like it’s the last time you’ll ever see each other, though this is only just the beginning. it may as well have been hours, with the way your cunt aches with need but you can’t bring yourself to stop kissing him.

the feeling isn’t anything you haven’t experienced many times before. you and seungcheol had been together for years before he proposed, years spent filled with passion and love and good memories. but this time feels completely different. maybe it’s all in your head, the post-wedding jitters finally catching up with you and making your head spin. but just the thought of doing the same things you’d done in the past, but now instead as a married couple, makes you feel like a brand new person. a person that belongs with seungcheol, forever.

finally he breaks away, breathing hard with his cheeks flushed and his hair a tangled mess. he moves off of his position on top of you, and you start to sit up and follow him, but he just pressed another breathy kiss to your cheek.

“‘m not going anywhere, baby,” he says softly, running a hand through your hair. “gonna get you some water and then ‘m gonna fuck you like you deserve.”

you whine in protest, but he doesn’t listen, moving off the bed and grabbing a cup and some ice, along with a water bottle from the refrigerator. he sits at the edge of the bed with you while you take small sips. he’s right; your mouth is dry, and the cool water feels so refreshing.

too soon the glass is empty and abandoned on the nightstand, and cheol moves to take his pants off, now a wrinkled mess but he doesn’t care.

he shifts behind you to unzip the back of your dress, gently sliding the fabric off your shoulders. you start to stand up to step out of the dress completely, but he stops you.

“said i would fuck you in this dress, didn’t i?” he whispers. his breath is warm by your ear and it sends a shiver down your spine. “just wanna see a little more of you.”

you moan, letting him slip the top of the dress down to your stomach, exposing your breasts as he slowly climbs on top of you again. “god, you’re so gorgeous,” he sighs, more to himself than to you as his hands slide up your body, gently kneading and squeezing your skin.

he sits back on his knees, bunching your dress up around your waist again to give him access to your cunt, begging to be filled. he pressed two fingers into you, slowly scissoring them back and forth to work you open, but he stops when you whine again.

“what’s wrong, baby?” he asks, his fingers still inside you as he leans down to kiss your breasts.

“i want you, cheol,” you plead with him, your hand on his wrist to stop him from moving. “tired of waiting, please.”

he presses one last kiss to your cheek, then pulls his fingers out of you, finally lining himself up at your entrance.

it’s the same stretch you’ve felt dozens of times, but everything is so different with him now. his arms are planted on either side of you, muscles bulging as he pushes into you slowly, gently. beads of sweat collect at his hairline and begin to roll down his temples until he’s finally sheathed all the way inside you, both of you panting for breath.

after a minute or two you squeeze seungcheol’s bicep, begging him to move. and he does, slowly rocking his hips back and forth at first, before gradually increasing his pace. you can feel every long, deep stroke of his hips as they crash into you, your breasts bouncing as he pushes you deeper into the mattress.

you grab onto his shoulders and hold on tightly, clinging to him for support. his grunts under his breath only spur you on, dragging him closer to you until he’s laying on top of you.

you spread your legs further apart, trying to wrap around his waist but the dress is in the way, and you call his name frustratedly. “seungcheol, please—”

as much as he doesn’t want to pull out, cheol doesn’t like hearing you upset, either, so with a wince he slows to a stop, moving away from between your legs so you can shove the dress away once and for all before he pushes back into you and resumes his pace.

you moan in relief, finally able to feel him like you’ve wanted to all night. cheol curses when you clench around him, and he grabs hold of your thighs and pushes them against your chest. at this angle you can feel him even deeper than before, and you whimper, eyes falling shut as you feel yourself start to come up to the edge of your orgasm.

“are you gonna cum, baby?” he groans, hips slamming against yours. “can feel you getting close, squeezing me so–ah, good. fuck, i love you so much.”

you grab onto his shoulders, your fingers scrambling over his muscles as you try to find something to ground yourself, nails digging into his skin.

his pace never falters, and without warning you let go when he says your name again, “my beautiful wife, look so fuckin’ beautiful, shit.”

you barely register when his hips begin to stutter as he chases his own orgasm, finally succumbing to it with a breathy whine as he releases inside you, spurt after spurt of his cum filling you up before he collapses on top of you.

your ears are still ringing when you finally come down, wrapped up in a blissful state of peace with seungcheol’s softening cock still inside you.

you inhale deeply, holding it in for a moment before exhaling, feeling your body start to relax and that’s when you know you have to get up now or not at all. you gently poke cheol’s side and he rolls off of you, but not before giving you another giggly kiss. he picks you up in his arms and spins you around once, then carries you off to the bathroom to clean up.

although later you find yourself pressed against the cool tile of the shower wall, caught up in another frenzy of kisses, however this time much softer and gentler. between the day’s festivities and the night’s activities, you’re both exhausted, but you couldn’t be happier being tangled in each other’s arms, not bearing to part for more than a few minutes at a time.

with room service ordered and a movie playing on the tv while you wait, you couldn’t think of a better place to be than by seungcheol’s side, not just tonight, but for every night afterwards.

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it lets me know this is something people want to see more of and it helps a ton with being motivated to write. thanks for reading!!

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