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spxllcxstxr · 3 months ago

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Shitshow at the Soulmate Factory • R.R

(Gif not mine)

Request: Please I'm begging on hands and knees, I'll take any Roman or Tom fic. Anything. I would do desperate things for it. Kisses xxx! I honestly love the countdown soulmate au, just running into each other unexpectedly is a really adorable thing for me. Maybe they are late from somewhere and they run into reader, could be whatever. You can also ignore it. If I may I would like she/her reader, but I'm fine with gender neutral reader also. — anon

Summary: In less than twenty-four hours you’ll meet your soulmate. Your friend drags you to some weird underground private party

Warnings: soulmate AU, logan roy mention (also quick mention of abuse), mention of drugs and alcohol and all that shit, not a lot of dialogue I’m sorry lmao, 9/11 mention? (iykyk)

Word Count: 1.5k

A.N: first Roman fic!!! This was actually going to be a blurb and then I kept fucking writing. I hope his characterization is ok, if you have any tips don’t be afraid to let me know!! Hope you all enjoy!

•

Roman had never cared for the timer on the inside of his elbow. The black bold numbers inked permanently into his flesh. It was always hidden away underneath expensive suit shirts and well-tailored business jackets. It was a ticking time bomb; never to be acknowledged until it finally blew him to bits.

Or, in this case, meet his soulmate (though to him, that was one and the same).

It's not like he wasn't curious about who some higher power judged to be his soulmate--because he was. It was, however, more of a morbid curiosity. He was Roman Roy for fuck's sake, no one should be tied to him.

His father never talked about his own timer, the one time he ever asked about it he got backhanded so hard he face planted onto the tiled floor beneath his feet. That was that. He laughed it off afterwards, when Ken was placing ice against his bruised cheek. He really should've known.

Kendall had spent months convincing Rome and his other siblings that his timer went off when he first met Rava in college, though they got divorced so he highly doubted that was the case. And if it was? Well shit. That didn't bode well for the rest of them.

Shiv's situation confirmed that he was doomed. Despite Roman being in charge of her soon-to-be husband's bachelor party, his sister once drunkenly confided in him that her timer had went off years before she even heard the name Tom Wambsgans. The next morning, when she called him with a splitting headache, she said she couldn't remember anything she told him the night before. She was fucked too.

Connor was Connor and Roman was sure he had ranted about his at one point, but whatever goes in one ear goes out the other with him.

So when Roman glances at his timer in the mirror it feels like a cooler full of ice water just got dumped on him. His body is frozen but his skin crawls with anxiety. Today was the day. In less than twenty-four hours he was to meet the person he was destined to be with.

What a sick cosmic joke.

He bites his nails and paces the length of his kitchen as he waits for his driver to get to his apartment. By the time he's seated in the back of the car with the smell of worn leather overwhelming his senses the thought is pushed so far back in his mind that he barely remembers why his fingers are absentmindedly stroking the inside of his elbow.

You, on the other hand, were the complete opposite.

The timer on your wrist was frequently the topic of discussion both with your friends and in your personal journal. It had always been exciting, the guaranteed notion that you were going to meet the love of your life.

Your friends had married their soulmates which had made you believe even more in the timer. The people around you were happy with what the universe had promised and you just wanted that to be you already. You were content waiting but that never stopped you from watching the numbers tick down whenever you could spare a glance.

The childish romanticism of the timer never faded throughout your life.

It kept you going--you woke up in the morning because you needed to know what, or, rather who, the universe had in store for you.

You were jittery in the morning. Not just because your friend was forcing you to join her and a couple others at some underground private club, but also because your timer had indicated that today, of all days, you were going to meet your soulmate. Every inch of you buzzed with excitement.

Toying with your bottom lip you wait for your friend to pick you up. This party would be it, you determined.

It was going to be a dream come true.

The club sucks.

They had taken your phone at the door, the music is way too loud, and your drink tastes sour when it should be sweet. Not to mention the amount of people having sex in every corner of almost every room.

Your friends ditched you about an hour ago and your timer still has an hour left.

Taking a sip of your drink your face scrunches in disgust. Your eyes focus on the drinks behind the bar, the colorful glasses occupying your vision so you don’t accidentally make eye contact with the drugged up people around you. The pungent smell of weed surrounds you.

You sit and watch the bartenders dart across the space behind the bar, mixing and pouring drinks expertly. Men and women approach you occasionally, but you’re not interested in conversation if your timer doesn’t go off.

You wish you had Twitter to at least occupy your mind.

“Hey, I’m Connor.”

You turn to face the man to your right, his grey hair and piercing blue eyes are nice, but your timer doesn’t go off so what’s the point?

“Not interested.” Taking a quick sip of your drink you turn away from the man.

“Oh come on, I just want to chat,” He sits next to you, nursing his own drink. He smells of alcohol and expensive cologne. “Say, where were you on 9/11?”

Your eyebrows shoot up in shock, eyeing the man trying to find any hint of a joke. He looks completely serious.

“Where was I on 9/11?”

“Yeah, I mean, I gotta make sure…y’know what I mean?” He shrugs at you, still waiting for your answer.

Subtly you glance down at your wrist, the numbers now under a minute. Slowly you smile, nerves washing over your entire being.

You get up from the bar stool, drink in hand. “Try that on another girl, I’m sure it’ll work next time.”

Passing by people you attempt to get out of the stuffy room when someone knocks into your shoulder. It’s not hard, but it certainly warranted some kind of apology.

You turn around only to see the other person doing the same.

Your breath hitches when you hear the noise—it’s crystal clear and high pitched, like a bell. Eyes widening you stare at the stranger in shock.

“Oh fuck.” His brown eyes widen at the noise, the realization washing over him. “Shit so you’re—you’re my…?” With one hand on his hip and the other running through his hair he looks you up and down.

“You’re my soulmate…” You say, just above the music. The air feels as if it’s been punched out of your lungs.

The man’s eyes can’t seem to stay still.

Your own eyes run over his handsome figure. His clothes imply at least a decent amount of money—his white dress shirt crisp and recently pressed. The sleeves, however, are rolled up to his elbow exposing his forearms. Your face heats up at this; the casual gesture being a lot more attractive than it should be.

Swallowing down the thoughts and the bubbling nerves you extend your hand.

“(Y/n) (L/n).” You smile, hoping to ease the tension.

“Oh uh, yeah—yes.” He stutters, hand taking your own. His palms are a bit sweaty but he has a nice firm grip. “Roman Roy.”

Roy—well that explains a lot. So far the universe has got good taste.

Your hand tingles as you pull it back to your side. Biting your lip you take him in again, how he flexes his jaw and drums his fingers against his hip bone. The music pumping throughout the room becomes muffled as you focus solely on Roman Roy.

It seems he has a difficult time tearing his eyes away from your own, but eventually he’s successful at examining the expensive watch on his wrist.

“Oh shit fucking damnit…” He mutters, brows furrowing momentarily before softening when his gaze lands back on you. “I gotta go, I have this stupid fucking meeting…” Apologetically he steps closer to you. You deflate a bit at this. “It’s just big company stuff, I’m sorry. Can I uh…can I get your number though?”

Smirking at the question, you nod. Excitement courses through your veins again. “Do you have a pen?”

“A pen? What is it 1999?”

“They took my phone at the door, dumbass, I assume they took yours too.” You snort teasingly.

“Shit.” He pats his body, searching for anything in his pocket. He’s quite quick about it and eventually he finds a shitty black pen with barely any ink in it.

Giggling you write your number down on his forearm before handing the pen back to him.

“You better call me, Roman Roy. I know where you work.” You wink, toying with your bottom lip again.

He flushes at that, cheeks turning pink as his eyes settle on your lips.

“Oh fuck I’m gonna call you.” Clumsily he winks back before turning around and getting caught in the crowd, heading to whatever meeting he had.

Setting down your drink on the nearest table you head the opposite direction, towards the exit, cheeks aching from the satisfied smile on your face.

•

#succession #succession hbo #succession x reader #succession hbo x reader #Roman Roy #Rome Roy #Roman Roy x reader #Roman Roy x reader fanfiction #Roman Roy x reader fluff #succession fanfic #roman roy x you #succession fic #succession x you #succession hbo x you

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franzkafkagf · 6 months ago

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The fact that Aegon loving his children it’s even book canon. TGC is describing Aegon’s personality as it is hinted in the book and yet people is mad.

Tom literally acknowledges he is not a good parent but he loves his children.It makes total sense that he would have a complicated relationship with fatherhood based on how his father treated him. Or that in his mind, he wants to be better than Viserys.

Thank you anon! You're exactly right, we've always known from the book that he loved his children. Adding onto that is that we have barely seen 20 minutes of Aegon until now, if the early reviews are true we'll get 15 minutes of Aegon in the first episode ALONE. Of course we find out much more about the character, we barely know anything about him!

This made me wonder; what do we know about Aegon?

We meet Aegon for the first time in episode 3 of season 1. He is just a two year-old who plays with a wooden dragon toy and yet the older characters around him only see him as a threat, a pawn or, by his father, as a replacement— watching the episode it's clear to me that Viserys wanted Baelon, Aegon cannot be Baelon. It's pretty telling that the only positive on-screen interactions Aegon has with his father are in this episode. He is a little kid still, Viserys can project his wishes and fantasies about Baelon onto him, something he isn't able to do once his son is grown up.

I think it's pretty crucial to understand this part of Aegon's and Viserys' relationship— the perfect ideal of Baelon (he killed the only woman he ever loved for the perfect son; you cannot come back from that) stands between them, like a shadow Aegon could never escape and a standard he could never meet.

We don't really see Aegon again until episode 6— he is a teenager now and thus a completely different person. The little baby from episode 3 has been shaped by years of neglect, unfulfilled expectations, and the toxic dynamics within the family. What has he become? He is a 15 year old with problematic relationship to alcohol that is used as the punching bag of the family. He jacks off from windows (welcome back Roman Roy!), leers at maids and bullies his younger brother.

Teen Aegon is perceived as a disappointment by his grandfather, who sees him just as a weakling and a pawn to be controlled (a belief he still holds at the start of season 2 apparently). His mother projects her own ambitions, resentments and fears onto him.

These behaviors are all very troubling and someone should've done something to prevent these habits from festering within him; no one did. I honestly feel like no one really cares about him that much.

And yet, there is also so much postitive to be said about this iteration of him too, glimpses of Aegon's potential for goodness and his capacity for loyalty. You might call it naivety, but Aegon seems to believe in the good in people— he trusted Rhaenyra not to hurt him or his brothers if she was to become queen (something I agree with). He also seems to treat his nephews well enough, he doesn't seem to care about the bastard-allegations -> he also seems to be friends with bastards as an adult! Eddard Waters belongs to his entourage, this informs his character— yes he is an entitled prince, but there's also an element to him that is endearingly down-to-earth.

Another notable example is in episode 7, he decided to protect his mother after Aemond blamed him for spreading rumors about his nephews' legitimacy . He never cared about the rumors, yet he stood his ground and shielded his mother when faced with his father's wrath.

Ty Tennant does such a great job here. The scene highlights his complexity— he is not simply a drunken disappointment, a villain or a victim, but a young man trapped in a situation he doesn't seem to be able to get out of.

When we next see Aegon, he is in his early twenties, and the toll his upbringing took on him is evident. His introduction in episode 8 is a hefty one. He is shown sleeping off a hangover, his drinking habit from his youth has fully established itself in him. His mother yells at him, tries to get him to understand the consequences of his behavior— he has raped a maid, something that, disturbingly, is not new for him. This moment speaks volumes about the man the little boy from episode 3 has become: flawed, morally compromised, and numbed by his vices.

Further even, Aegon engages in activities that reflect a deep-seated cruelty and a disconnection from others— watching toddlers rip each other apart in brutal fights shows his general desensitization and apathy to everything. These behaviors are obviously unacceptable, but this is a fictional character we are talking about and you know what these behaviors tell me about him? These are just manifestation of the dehumanizing effects of his upbringing.

He is desperate to be loved but destined to be hated — Tom Glynn Carney

Because characters can be multi-faceted and complex, Aegon fights off insecurities and still yearns for love and acceptance from those around him. Him acting out like this can be read as misguided attempts to drown out the background noise, to try to assert control in a world where he feels constantly undermined and unloved. However, his actions only serve to alienate him further from the people he wants to be accepted by.

Aegon's aversion to the throne and his rejection of the responsibilities that come with it are just other manifestations of his deep-seated apathy. He despises the very idea of kingship and what it represents. He doesn't want to take up responsibility become a pawn, he yearns to run away but he himself knows that he will never be able to run.

The carriage ride to the sept and the coronation are gifts that keep on giving. It's all so horribly tragic. He never wanted this. Crowning him will kill him, he knows this is his end deep down!

He is so preoccupied with what his father wanted, Baelon is absolutely still haunting the narrative— his father's desire for him to embody virtues he never possessed or could aspire to (BAELON) are still at the forefront of his thoughts.

As he walks to receive the crown, he is literally crying, this single moment encapsulates it all so well. He is man who, despite his privileged position, is trapped by the very power and responsibility he was born into but never desired for.

But then, at the very end of episode 9, we see a shift in Aegon— something else to him that will be at the forefront of his character in season 2. He finally gets the adoration and the purpose he always sought after with the crown. The moment he realizes that the smallfolk is cheering for him is the moment the apathy that defined him up until now begins to lose its grip, replaced by newfound determination.

This change in Aegon will be furthered by the death of Jaehaerys, a source of pride and a reminder for him that he is capable to create and care for something precious and pure (thank you TGC) -> I won't go into this deeper, let's wait until the season airs.

In conclusion, a wise woman once said that apathy is death. For so much of his life Aegon embodied apathy, only for the very thing he feared most (kingship) to make him rethink everything. Aegon will be driven by his determination, but this path will lead to his destruction, consuming him until there is barely anything left of him. It will ultimately tear him apart; he is both redeemed and ruined by the weight of a crown he never wanted.

#aegon ii targaryen #tom glynn carney #hotd meta #hotd #princess i love you.#house of the dragon #ales.txt #asks #vizzy t you done fucked up #my writing #my creation #aegonposting

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po1sonous-l0ve · 5 months ago

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Feeling a bit angsty today, you guys know what that means.

So do you guys know the song Army Dreamers by Kate Bush?

Does it not match up with the Big Three boys?

"What could he do? Should've been a rockstar. But he didn't have the money for a guitar."

Percy coded? He so should have had a normal life and I can imagine him playing guitar in a band in someone's basement, but due to him and Sally's situation, they didn't have money to spare.

"What could he do? Should've been a politician. But he never got a proper education."

If we look at the timeline, Nico was ten when Percy and Thalia picked him up. That means he never even made it to middle school, and I doubt the Lotus Casino would have taught him anything except for how to play video games. He is shown to be a great diplomat throughout the series, and could have been a politician in the mortal world had it not been for his lack of education.

"What could he do? Should've been a father. But he never even made it to his twenties."

Jason Grace. Self explanatory. He could have been the greatest dad of all time, but he didn't even reach 18.

#pjo #percy jackson #jason grace #pjo hoo toa #pjo headcanon #nico di angelo #army dreamers #song #angsty #pjo angst #big three #sally jackson #thalia grace

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waitingandwishing · 2 months ago

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(Cross posted on tumblr and AO3)

Prev - Next Chapter

"What's the date. Exactly," Five said, dropping a wooden cutting board on the table.

"March, the twenty-fourth," Y/N replied, fiddling with the hem of her shirt.

The skinny boy came back over with a loaf of bread. He paused, looking at Y/N for a bit before looking back down at the bread. "Good."

Luther piped up from across Y/N, to Five's right, "So are we gonna talk about what just happened?" He didn't respond, keeping himself occupied with two slices he pulled out of the bag. Annoyed, Luther stood from his chair. "It's been seventeen years."

Five looked up at him sternly. "It's been a lot longer than that." He disappeared, only to reappear behind Luther, on a stool to reach the marshmallows on a higher shelf.

"I haven't missed that," Luthur mumbled.

"Where'd you go?" Diego asked, seeming a tad pissed himself.

"The future." He "jumped" back to the table. "It's shit by the way."

"Called it," Klaus cheered.

This time Five walked to grab the peanut butter. "I should've listened to the old man. Jumping through space is one thing, jumping through time is a toss of the dice." He glanced over at me again before laying his eyes on Klaus. "Nice dress."

The druggie made a noise. "Danke!"

"Wait, how did you get back?" Vanya asked.

"I had to project my consciousness forward into a suspended quantum state version of myself that exists across every possible instance of time."

"That makes no sense," Diego said.

"Makes sense to me." Y/N shrugged.

Without looking up, Five replied, "Thank you, Y/N." He leapt from his seat on the table, only to be held back by Luther.

"How long were you there?" Luther asked.

"Eh, maybe forty years years, give or take."

"That would make you… Fifty three years old," Y/N thought out-loud while the others remained silent in awe. She looked him up and down once more. "Mentally, right?"

"My consciousness is fifty, to be precise," he replied. "My body is apparently thirteen again." His eyes quickly traveled up and down. "You seem to be going through something similar."

"I'm physically fourteen." Was all Y/N said. The rest of her siblings didn't push her to elaborate, after all, her being alive was a sensitive topic to Y/N.

"Hold on," Vanya spoke up. "Y/N's situation makes sense. How did that work for you?"

Five only rolled his eyes. "Delores kept saying the equations were off. Eh." He took a bite out of the disgusting sandwich. "Bet she's laughing now."

"Delores?" Y/N asked, intrigued. She pictured a curly grey haired woman nagging Five about things every day. It was almost comical.

He briefly glanced at Y/N before finding the newspaper with our "father's" death as the main headline. "Guess I missed the funeral."

"How'd you know about that?" Diego asked.

"I believe he said that he went into the future, Gogo." Y/N said to him.

"He died of heart failure, huh?" Five said absentmindedly.

"Yeah," Diego said.

"No," Luther butted in. Soon all eyes were turned to him.

"He thinks I killed him." Y/N crossed her arms, looking away and avoiding eye contact.

"I never said that!"

"Didn't deny it." Diego said.

"Oh, of course you're on her side."

Five stared at Y/N for a bit before mumbling, "Nice to see nothing's changed," as he left the room.

Allison turned. "That's it? That's all?"

"What more is there to say?" he asked without turning. "Circle of life."

Dad's remains were carried outside by Luther, who, as well as Diego, had no umbrella as the rain poured down on their small group.

Meanwhile, Y/N, Vanya, Allison, Five, and even Mom had black umbrellas as Klaus sported a clear one with Barbie-pink trim. It seemed fitting for him.

Mom looked at all of then. "What's wrong? Did I miss something?"

"Mom… Dad's dead," Allison said gently. "Don't you remember?"

"Oh, of course," she replied, frowning.

"Is… Is she alright?" Allison asked, leaning to look at Y/N down the row.

"She's perfectly okay," Diego insisted. "She just needs to... Recuperate. To charge or something."

Pogo walked up beside Vanya with a striped umbrella of his own, came in hand as he turned to face Luther. "Whenever you'd like to begin, Luther."

He took a hesitant step forward, popped the top of the urn off, and turned it upside-down. The dark, powdery contents of the jar fell to the ground unceremoniously. Klaus grimaced with a new cigarette in his hand. "Some wind might've made it… Better," the hulk of a man mumbled.

"Would anyone like to give a few words?" Pogo asked kindly. There was a heavy silence from everyone for a while. Even the teacher's pet himself kept his mouth shut tight.

Y/N looked at the statue of Ben with a sad frown, she didn't even get to go to his funeral… And than there was her statue. It was definitely… Something.

The statue of her had been placed next to Ben's, with her head looking down and her arms held up high, forming a cup with her hands. Dramatic as always...

Pogo stepped in. "He was a teacher, father, and friend. He will be missed more than can be expressed." His little sad smile remained on his little sad face.

Diego rolled his eyes. "He was a terrible person. Reginald Hargreeves was a walking disaster and hurt everyone he came into contact with. We're better off with him dead."

Allison interjected, "Diego - "

"He named me Number Two," he stated gruffly. "And that's because that bastard couldn't bother to give us real names. He made Mom do it instead."

Mother randomly asked, "Is anyone hungry? I could whip up some snacks?"

"No, it's fine, Mother," Y/N smiled at her.

"If you say so." She seemed almost dejected.

"I'll… Maybe you could make me a sandwich…" Y/N quickly said, "I wouldn't mind one of those. After all, it's sort of nostalgic." Mother smiled and nodded. She was acting… Off…

Diego moved towards the ashes. "Look, you wanna be polite and give some words? Fine by me. But at least spare all the lies about how much of a 'good person' he was."

"Diego, shut your mouth," Luther said lowly.

"Diego… I'm not sure this is a good idea." Y/N said.

The knife-wielder rounded on him. "You of all people should be agreeing with me, Number One. Years of being his little pet, after everything, he still shipped you all the way to the Moon."

"Shut up!" he hissed.

"That's how much he couldn't bear being around you!" Luther snapped. The two started brawling, Pogo at one point pleading them to stop. Klaus moved protectively in front of Five, who shoved him aside. Y/N quietly stood on the other side of Vanya, in front of Ben's statue, watching the scene unfold.

This seemed familiar, like it happened before. The fighting, the yelling, the cheering… It was all so familiar like a balloon that Y/N had lost to the wind and desperately tried to grab back. Diego started to gain what looked like an upper hand.

Vanya begged the both of them to stop, while Klaus was begging them to continue, cheering like a rabid sports fan.

Pogo huffed and slunk back inside as Diego started shouting encouragement at Luther. The former was then thrown by the latter before getting held in a chokehold.

"Get off me!" Diego wheezed. Luther was knocked off and Diego staggered closer to the statue.

"This is utterly pointless," Five muttered as he turned to leave before turning and grabbing my hand, "I need to talk to you."

"You're telling me, that I end the world?" Y/N asked in disbelief as Five jumped around looking for a coffee mug.

"I'm not saying that, I'm saying that when I ended up a few hours after the apocalypse-"'

"Which is in a few days."

"Which is in a few days. I found this." Five stopped and held up a glass eyeball. "And one of these." Five then dug through his pocket to find a few pieces of chipped porcelain.

Y/N froze, as she saw the cracked pieces and shut down almost immediately as she saw the pieces. Her hands shook and she steadied them on the table with a shaky breath.

Five placed his hand on her shoulder and she snapped her head towards him, quickly clearing her throat.

"I found it in Luthur's hand. As well as the glass eye." Five said, jumping around once again before finding a coffee mug. "If it's not you, then we need to find the owner of the glass eye."

"Hold on, 'we'? We as in our siblings right?" Y/N asked. Five shook his head.

"They're all imbeciles, I need someone who can keep up with me. And I need you to stay around me." Five said, "Keeping you around me may prevent the end of the world.

"I… Think I'm going to take that as a compliment." Y/N said as Klaus and Allison walked in the room. Five dug through the shelves curiously, probably in search of some coffee.

"Where's Vanya?" Allison asked.

"She left a while ago." Y/N said.

"That's unfortunate." Five said before taking an empty container and placing it on the table, "An entire square block, 42 bedrooms, 19 bathrooms, and not a single drop of coffee."

"Dad hated caffeine." Allison pointed out.

"Well, he hated children too and he had plenty of us." Klaus laughed, clutching onto a random electric guitar.

"I mean, he does have a point…" Y/N agreed with her brother.

"Aww… Y/N agrees with me…" Klaus let the guitar drop to the floor as he stumbled over to Y/N and gave her a big hug.

The porcelain girl smiled as Klaus collapsed onto her. "You’re so amazing…" Klaus sighed.

"I'm taking the car." Five left, "Y/N, c'mon."

"Where are you two going?" Klaus asked as Y/N managed to push him off of her and stand up from her seat to follow Five.

"To get a decent cup of coffee. And to talk." Five said with a 'duh' tone.

"Do you even know how to drive?" Allison asked, crossing her arms.

"I know how to do everything." Five said snarkly.

"I mean, I've got a drivers license." Y/N shrugged. Five and Y/N held hands as they both space jumped to the garage.

The girl shivered, "I'll never get used to that." She sighed as she sat in shot gun and Five sat in the drivers seat. After a few minutes of awkwardness, Y/N broke the silence. "So… Did you just learn how to drive during the apocalypse? Like, you were lucky to find a car and ended up teaching yourself?"

Five sighed as the car drove into the road, "And to think I missed your idiotic questions…"

"Aw, you missed me?” Y/N smirked.

The two of them pulled up to Griddy's Donuts, something Y/N was very familiar with.

The bell rang in her ear as a random stranger opened the door for the two of them. "Thank you." Y/N gave a smile to the stranger.

The duo both sat down at the table before another man sat down next to them, exhaling deeply as he took his cap off and started working on a… Crossword puzzle? Y/N didn't really know.

"Sorry, sink was clogged." An elderly waitress wearing pink smiled as she took out a pad of paper and pen, "So, what'll it be?"

"Uh, give me a chocolate eclair." The man said.

"Mhmm, sure. Can I get the kids a glass of milk or something?" The waitress asked.

"The kid wants coffee. Black." Five scoffed. Y/N gave the waitress a friendly smile.

"I'll have some tea." Y/N said.

"Cute kids." The waitress smiled slightly. Five fake smiles at her as she went to the back.

"Even if you're old, you still have to be nice to other people." Y/N said, turning to him, "After all, you're physically thirteen again. Not fifty."

"You're too nice, Y/N. Even for your own good." Five shook his head.

"At least I'm not rude all the time, you've always been a smart-ass." Y/N remarked.

Five looked at her before looking away, smiling slightly as he started a conversation with the man next to him. "Don't remember this place being such a shithole. I used to come here as a kid. Used to sneak out with my brothers and sisters and… Eat donuts 'till we puked. Simpler times, huh?"

"Uh… I suppose." The man said, clearly confused as to why a thirteen year old looking boy was talking like an old man.

The waitress came over to them, setting down their orders as the man offered to pay for the other two's drinks. "Thanks." Five said as he eyed the man's jacket, "You must know your way around the city."

"I hope so. I've been driving it for 20 years." The man said.

"Good. I need an address." Five said.

Y/N drummed her fingers on the counter, looking around at the familiar looking place. She smiled as she remembered there was one time where she had to carry both Ben and Klaus out of the cafe because they got too sick off of donuts.

Their father scolded her for an hour because she took the blame. God, that was a long night.

"When'd you start drinking tea?" Five asked, suddenly snapping her out of her trance.

"Well, I enjoy it more than water and soda." Y/N said, "But sometimes I like to drink coffee.”

Five nodded as Y/N felt his eyes on her. She shifted uncomfortably before the doorbell rang and tons of people filed in.

Since she was facing the other way, she could see that they had guns. She vaguely remembered Diego saying guns were for sissies. Heh, simpler times.

"Hm… I thought they'd have more time before they found me." Five said calmly, setting his coffee mug down.

"You're gonna explain later, Five." Y/N frowned.

"Don't worry, I will." Five said.

"Let's all be professional about this, okay? On your feet and come with us. They wanna talk." The man with the gun pointing to Five's head said.

"I've got nothing to say."

"It doesn't have to go this way." The man said. "You think I wanna shoot a kid? And go back home with that on my conscience?"

"Well, I wouldn't worry about that." Five sighed as he turned to the man pointing the gun at him, "You won't be going home."

Five looked to Y/N and blinked twice. She blinked twice back as Five slowly picked up a knife and space jumped, stabbing the man in the shoulder.

Y/N quickly got up and reached for her pocket, searching for her garrote. Tightening it, she ran up behind a person and slammed them on the ground, effectively choking them before they passed out.

Y/N grunted as a bullet grazed through her side. She hissed at the pain. Five watched her get shot before bashing someone's head on the ground.

Y/N threw a fork and it landed into a man’s eye. She sighed as she felt a burning sensation in her side, dammit, she thought that her dad made her skin impenetrable. So much for that bullshit.

"Hey, Y/N! Leave it to me!" Five smiled as blood splattered onto the floor.

Y/N nodded, holding her side and coughing harshly. She grimaced before tearing her sleeve and wrapping it around her waist as a makeshift bandage.

As the lights flashed rapidly and Five finished off the rest of the attackers, Y/N hopped off the table to join Five, who had finished cutting his arm and digging out a small tracker.

"So… Did you want to come to my place? I mean, I think we have to deal with that injury sooner or later." Y/N suggested as they walked out of the diner.

"No, can't risk it at your place. Let's go to Vanya's." Five said. Y/N frowned.

"Are you sure? I mean-"

"You're injured." Was all Five said. Y/N, as if on cue, winced as she remembered the bullet wound.

"I've-" Y/N coughed, "-Had worse. I'm sure it'll heal like the rest."

"It could get infected." Five said matter-of-factly. Y/N shrugged.

"I guess I can tend to it later. Right now, we need to get to Vanya's place." She said, "We're taking the car, right?"

"Why do that when we can just-" Five grabbed her hand and space jumped into an alleyway.

"Shit! Again, you've got to warn me." Y/N said as he chuckled slightly.

"Sorry." Five said, giving her a smug smirk as he climbed up the side of a building.

"How'd you find out where Vanya lives?" Y/N asked, following him up.

"Sources." Five said as he opened the window to the second floor. Y/N sighed as she followed him.

The room was fairly clean, as expected from Vanya. There was a small kitchenette and a violin sitting on a wooden chair.

Five sat on a plush grandma chair and Y/N sat beside him in another. Five and Y/N heard keys click as the door opened. Five clicked the lamp on to reveal… Vanya. "Jesus!" She said in surprise.

"You should have locks on your windows." Five commented.

"I live on the second-floor." Vanya said, flicking the light switch on to bring some more light to the dark apartment.

"Rapists can climb." Five said.

"Five, that's not…" Y/N's voice trailed off as the stinging in her side made her body feel like it was on fire.

"You are so weird." Vanya said, closing the door and taking off her shoes and coat.

#umbrella academy x reader #five hargreeves #five hargreaves x reader #five hargreeves x reader #five x reader #luther hargreeves #diego hargreeves #allison hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #ben hargreeves #viktor hargreeves #the umbrella academy #umbrella academy #tua

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itwillallbeokay · 5 months ago

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One of my main gripes about Boruto is the weird character assassination of Naruto and Sasuke, particularly in regards to their kids. I don't know why Kishimoto thought that at twenty almost every member of the Konoha 13 were to be married off like come on. You can wait for a few more years. I know this was done for the set up but I personally think the story might've worked out better with the original gang in their 40s. It seems like it would be in character for Naruto to get married after a sufficiently long dating period because he struggles to believe that someone can actually love him for who he is, and not what he has done for the village. We should've seen his internal struggle. One of his character traits was determination and the drive to prove himself as the best, and I have no reason to believe that it wouldn't be carried over to his relationship with Hinata. His thought process would deadass be “I still don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I will damn well make sure you have no regrets choosing me, dattebayo!” He would work so hard to be good father and Hokage, and I fully believe Kakashi would be helping him with Hokage duties. The Naruto I know would try his hardest to fulfil both his roles, and when he realises that it is too much for him to handle all alone, he would call his sensei in. I’ll never understand why Kishimoto made him into a borderline irresponsible father. It is not him.

Now onto Sasuke (I could spend days talking about him). Getting married during his late twenties to early thirties would actually be more in character for him too, because his redemption and the mission would be his top priorities. He has been through severe trauma, he needs time to heal and reflect. I don’t think that twenty year old Sasuke even wanted a wife and a child, btw. I also believe that if he’d been given time, he would’ve been a far better father (the awkward but very, very sweet kind) to Sarada. He KNEW familial love. It seems inconsistent to his character to have a child at twenty. And his return feels like something he did out of a sense of duty rather than an urge to spend time with his family. Are you telling me that the boy who loved his family with all he had, who was ready to destroy the village because they had used and discarded his brother, would not know his own daughter's face? Absolutely not. He would be a present, and attentive father.

I don't have a problem with the next gen characters, they have the potential to be great. I just wish it didn't seem like Kishimoto hated women, marriage and romance to this extent. He made both his main characters - one who knew the importance of a father figure and one whose entire journey was about the love he had for his family - into bad fathers, knowing it would piss off longtime fans of the series.

#naruto #naruto next generation #boruto #naruto uzumaki #sasuke uchiha

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captainsophiestark · 1 month ago

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Pranksters

Maxon Schreave x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2024!

Fandom: The Selection Series

Day Thirteen Prompt: "That's not the point."

Summary: Maxon and his spouse haven't had a moment to breathe since before the end of the Selection. Now, long after their marriage, they're taking some much needed fun and family time.

Word Count: 1,284

Category: Fluff

A/N: Barely got this one in on the 13th, but barely still counts!

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Sh!"

I whirled around, finger on my lip to make the point to my husband. King Maxon Schreave crouched behind me, a faint smile on his face as he shook his head at me.

"I'm confident this is a good idea," I whispered, keeping my voice as low as possible. "We both need the fun, and Adele's kids were asking for it when they found a way to sneak in and short sheet our bed."

"Ah," said Maxon, nodding sagely like something had just clicked. "So they pranked us, and we need to prank them for revenge."

"No! That's not the point! It has nothing to do with revenge."

Maxon raised an eyebrow, but I just huffed.

"Maxon, we've had the weight of the kingdom on our shoulders since before we were married. You've had it on yours for your entire life! We're having a truly rare weekend off to spend with family, and we are owed some carefree fun in our twenties, alright?"

Maxon's eyebrows had raised part way through my answer, but now they'd relaxed back into a sweet smile. His eyes got a soft look in them that I truly couldn't get enough of, and he leaned into me a little.

"Have I told you lately that you are absolutely wonderful? And that I love you?" he asked. I matched his smile and leaned back into him.

"About an hour ago, at dinner. But I'm happy to hear it again."

Maxon leaned the rest of the way in and repeated himself, speaking right by my ear. I sighed, letting myself enjoy the rare moment of peace together. Sure, we were about to enact a much-needed pranking operation, but this was our vacation. We could take a moment to ourselves, too.

Since the end of the Selection, things had been stressful and high-stakes for Maxon and I. From learning about the rebels to learning about his father, the two of us had been dealing with heavy things since before our engagement. But with the attack from the Southern Rebels and the deaths of Maxon's parents, we'd been thrown immediately into the role of leading an entire country, the two of us, even before our wedding. We'd managed it just like we managed everything else—together—but it had never been easy, and for Maxon especially, it meant constant responsibility with very little breathing room. So, when we found a few days away from the palace with his Aunt Adele and some of our other closest family and friends, I decided to take the opportunity to give him a truly fun and carefree night like he should've had a long time ago.

And right now, that meant pranking all of our cousins before spending the rest of the night together doing whatever we wanted.

"Okay, come on," I said, leaning back from Maxon and shuffling a little towards the door of the big suite where all of Adele's kids were staying. "The hallway looks clear, let's go."

I rushed forward, staying quiet and low to the ground. Maxon followed right on my heels, practically bouncing and with a big grin on his face. It made my heart do backflips.

"Do you have the key?" I whispered to him. He nodded, slipping the key to the room out of his pocket.

"Perks of being the king," he whispered back with a wink. I took the key, letting my hand linger on his for a moment.

"Alright, let's do this."

I unlocked the door, then passed Maxon back the key. As planned, the room was totally empty. Everyone else was having a movie night downstairs. Maxon and I had excused ourselves with a made-up stomache ache on my part, then headed straight here.

"So what do we do first?" asked Maxon. He hovered right over my shoulder, ready to follow my lead. I smiled and turned around to face him.

"We have to move fast, so we can't do everything we brainstormed last night. But why don't you pick where we start? Dried nail polish puddle that looks like it spilled on their beds? Gelatin in the milk so they can't pour it out or take a drink like normal? Or potato to replace the soap bar?"

Maxon shook his head, but he was also grinning at me.

"Let's... start with the milk?"

"Sounds like a perfect plan to me."

Maxon and I moved through the room with less efficiency than I would've needed for a successful prank on my siblings back home, but this way was also more fun. Maxon was clearly having the time of his life causing a little harmless mischief, possibly because it was the first time in his life he'd been allowed to cause harmless mischief. We managed to set up all of our favorite prank ideas before heading back to the hallway, just a few minutes later than I'd been planning for us to make our escape.

Not a moment sooner than we got the door closed and locked again, we heard voices and footsteps coming our way from down the hall. Maxon whirled to me with wide eyes, and I fought to hold in a laugh as I grabbed his hand and pulled him after me in the opposite direction.

We made it around two corners before Maxon gave in, laughing as he fell into step beside me and pulled me closer. I shushed him, but it was pretty half-hearted.

"That was so much fun," he breathed when we finally made it back to our room. He slumped against the door, grinning from ear to ear, and I moved to stand in front of him with the same expression.

"I'm glad you thought so. We're probably going to have to be on alert for the rest of our vacation for buckets of water in doorways and similar forms of payback from the kids."

"Worth it," he breathed, reaching out to wrap an arm around my waist. He pulled me into his chest, and I leaned against him, resting my hands on his shoulders. I closed the rest of the distance between us to pull Maxon into a sweet, slow kiss. We took our time, and when we eventually pulled apart, Maxon had a thoughtful expression on his face.

"What's up?" I asked, moving one hand up to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. Maxon's smile took on a softer tone as he met my eyes.

"Nothing. Just... thinking about what it will be like when we get to do things like this with our kids. Someday."

I grinned. "You better start taking notes, sweetheart, because I'm calling team kid now. We're gonna work together to level the playing field against the literal king."

"Hmm, I suppose I'll have to come up with a better proposition for them then, won't I? Thankfully, you have plenty of experience with pranks, so I think I may be able to convince the kids to team up with me to level the playing field against a pranking master."

I laughed, shaking my head and pulling Maxon in for another kiss.

"Well, depending on how many we have, we might not get a choice. They might team up against us, leaving you and I to team up with each other or fall to their pranking power."

"Whichever version we get... I can't wait."

Maxon's eyes shone as he pulled me in for another kiss, and the love seemed to literally make him glow. I hoped he could see I radiated the same happiness. Whether we were dealing with the weight of the world or plotting hypothetical pranks, it always made things a million times better to be doing it with Maxon.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen

The Selection Taglist: @valkyriepirate

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this-machine-runs-on-coffee · 6 months ago

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Guys what if someone "Army Dreamers"ed (the famous part) the choir?

Like as an animatic or edit

I would but I can't draw lmao

("What could he do? Should've been a rockstar" "But he didn't have the money for a guitar"

Ricky: "What could he do? Should've been listened" "But he didn't have the voice for a story"

Noel: "What could he do? Should've been an iconoclast" "But he didn't have the money to go to France")

("What could he do? Should've been a politician" "But he never had a proper education"

Ocean: "What could she do? Should've been someone famous" "But she never had a proper education"

Penny Lamb [I'm linking it to Legoland]: "What could he do? Should've been an animal conservationist" "But she never had a proper education")

("What could he do? Should've been a father" "But he never even made it to his twenties"

Mischa: "What could he do? Should've been a husband" "But he never even made it to Ukraine"

Constance: "What could she do? Should've been a [???]" "But she never even made it to his twenties")

(What a waste, Army Dreamers=What a waste, Uranium Dreamers)

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sharkboy305 · 6 months ago

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What could he do, should've been a Rockstar

But he didn't have the money for a guitar

What could he do, should've been a Politician

But he never had a proper education

What could he do, should've been a Father

But he never even made it to his twenties

#until dawn #matt taylor #mike munroe #josh washington #tw g0re #its almost 11 at night for me when i got this idea #also I couldn't decide on which one to do for Josh

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dandelionflowery · 7 months ago

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I realize almost no one is going to see this i say this and i'll get proven wrong but oh well but here are some of my favorite marauders fics that i just have to share

Peter Pettigrew and The Marauders, by Accio_Sriracha (@accio-sriracha)

An ode to the young Peter Pettigrew. To brotherhood, to love and carefree laughter, to the man who brings the snacks on roadtrips and to study groups; though he may not be the glue, he will always be the warmth of these four childhood best friends.

Peter and his friends, some background Wolfstar but a focus on the friendships

5,246 words, 1 chapter

Time to bloom, by witchastra

Peter is content following his friends around, going along with their plans and pranks, and spending most of his time lost in thought. Until some Slytherins come along to… help? Or Barty and Evan help Peter evaluate what he really feels and wants.

Partyvan + background Jegulily + bg Wolfstar + bg Dorlene (even if the ship isn't your favorite it's worth a read bc the author explores Peter's feelings really well)

9,342 words, 5 chapters

The Web, by lesmardisbleus

It’s just one night at the club, Remus can do this for James. - Another coffee shop au, or is it?

MCD ... Kinda? Idk it's hard to explain, read the tags, but it's not sad

Also this one starts by asking you to look up James's wand so:

18,292 words, 1 chapter

Army Dreamers, by Dakota_is_silly

What could he do, should've been a rockstar. (But he didn't have the money for a guitar.) What could he do, should've been a politician. (But he never had a proper education.) What could he do, should've been a father. (But he never even made it to his twenties.) What a waste, (army dreamers.) ------ Aka I've had enough of crying over marauders edits with this song so I decided to make a fic about it :3

I mean the summary basically says what it is

1,118 words, 1 chapter

#if you read only one of these #read the web #please #anyways useless tags:#marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fics #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #lily evans #lily potter #read these please

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green28go · 2 months ago

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Alec.....

What could he do? Should have been a rock star Alec now has everything he dreamt of, at the age of 23, after fighting so much for his love. Someone whose childhood should've been easy-going and fun, it was full of responsibility, fear, and anguish. But, now, Alec loves his life. But he didn't have the money for a guitar Thule Alec, on the other hand, didn't experience any such thing as what could he have called a luxury at that dire time. He was filled with despair and held onto his love in his last seconds on that forsaken land.

What could he do? Should have been a politician Alec became the Consul at the age of 23, inspired many shadowhunters, and changed the world. Loved by mostly everyone in the shadow world. But he never had a proper education Thule Alec, who is full of innocence, knows about the depths of shadowhunters bigotry but only ever could dream about changing the world and could never make it his reality.

What could he do? Should have been a father Alec enjoying with his kids and being the best kind of father one can have. But he never even made it to his twenties Thule Alec not experiencing any of this joy and leaving the world at the age of 18.

What a waste, army dreamers Oh, what a waste of army dreamers

Alexander and Thule! Alexander.

Lyrics from: Army Dreamers by Kate Bush.

#alec lightwood #alec lightwood bane #consul alec #magnus bane #alternate universe #thule #thule!alec #the shadowhunter chronicles #malec #the mortal instruments #shadowhunters #the eldest curses #queen of air and darkness #city of lost souls #kate bush #army dreamers

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zorishy · 6 months ago

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LOOK IT FITS MAN.

"What could he do? Should have been a rockstar.."

"But he didn't have the money for a guitar!"

He had the money for his own guitar, but never used it again for his own gain when he made L'manberg.

"What could he do? Should've been a politician.."

"But he never had a proper education.."

Wilson failed the election, losing everything he had dearly in the process, all because he wanted a president for his independent country.

"What could he do? Should've been a father.."

"But he never even made it into his twenties.. what a waste.. of army dreamers.."

He failed to be the father he could to Fundy, and in a way, he failed to be the caretaker of Tommy possibly after both ran from the kingdom and during the war. Encouraging Tommy in a way to become this.. child soldier. Along side Fundy.

And he never made it to twenty-five, as his body bled in his fathers arms, dying in his twenties, he lost himself however, when he went insane. A man who's mental psyche broken by war and politics, just snaps whole.

Ended with him losing his whole life in the process, even before blowing up that country, he lost his own purpose and mentality after exilement.

His eyes glowed red for the first time, a part of his past self dying with it.

🟢DSMP

FR!

I have changed a few things in my rewrite so here is how it applies to Wilbur:

Wilbur initially wanted to have a music career but it failed and he ended up working at a gas station and living in his van.

Wilbur wanted to be the president but he never learned how to run a successful campaign (mostly because he grew up in a monarchy) causing him to lose the election.

Wilbur desperately wanted to be a good father to Fundy but was forced to be absent throughout his infancy due to all the war, the election, and Pogtopia. By the time it was all over Wilbur killed himself in the explosion of Lmanberg when Fundy was only 3 (Wilson was 22 when he died).

Either way, sogad! or c!Lmanbur, it fits. ✨

#ask #zorishy says random stuff #tropesonas #burs reclaimed #bursonas #lmanbur #Symphony of gods and dreamers #I love analyzing characters through songs #Zorishy’s bursona lore

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spiritmander13 · 7 months ago

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Four men in uniform to carry home my little soldier

What could (s)he do, should've been a rockstar, but (s)he didn't have the money for a guitar (Microphone)

What could he do, should've been a politician, but he never had a proper education (Pickle)

What could he do, should've been a father, but he never even made it to his twenties (Knife)

What a waste, army dreamers

#inanimate insanity #ii #inanimate insanity invitational #i dunno if that's the tag #ii microphone #ii pickle #ii knife #HEAR ME OUT-#I WAS IN A TRAUMA TACO TRIO MOOD #AND THIS SONG JUST REMINDED ME OF THEM

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spideyhexx · 6 months ago

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toms billy is so army dreamers coded. specifically should've been a father but he never even made it to his twenties idk why

oh gosh I looked up the lyrics and im breaking rn wtf

#asks #thank you anon this is gonna help little darlin a lot

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arielhopepeace · 1 year ago

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Welcome, my loves, to another Joel Miller fanfic! Please be sure to read the trigger warnings before reading this story since this one focuses on the traumatic past of y/n ❤️ it shows how she’s able to push past the trauma to find love in a man again. This is something I have personal experience with, and I know how hard it can be. So, I’m hoping that it may be a comfort to anybody who needs it. It certainly was comforting to write 💕

She is a successful 25 year old lawyer, and Joel is a successful 35 year old dad who owns his own carpentry business and seeks out y/n for help! This was a story suggestion from a good friend of mine, and I hope you all enjoy it.

Part two is here

18+ only

Tw: smut, talk of sexual assault, trauma flashbacks, anxiety, panic attacks, age gap, talk of death of loved ones, talk of drug abuse

Word count: 7,500

"Ms. Y/l/n, your three o' clock is here," my receptionist says gently over the intercom.

I let out a preemptive sigh, squaring my shoulders as I adjust myself in my chair. It's not common for me to take on male clients, being that I'm not particularly fond of them.

The only man in my life is my dad. Even though he lives about an hour away, we still talk every day with the occasional FaceTime chat so that we can see each other when our schedules are too busy for in-person meetings. He's my rock. He got me through the most difficult times in my life, and worked two jobs just to put me through college.

Thanks to him, I'm now an accomplished lawyer at twenty-five years old. I owe my life to my dad, and I know that no other man could ever live up to everything he's done for me. It doesn't matter if they tried. I'd never trust them, anyway.

"Send him in," my voice barks.

It's not Cynthia's fault that I'm on edge about a man coming into my office. It's only that he's the first man I'll have been alone with since...him; the name that I never allow to pass my lips, the name that any time I hear it out in public it makes me cringe and spark that bit of fear in my chest. He is the reason for my total disrespect and mistrust for men, because he showed me how truly evil they can be.

There's a knock on my office door, and I let out a short, clipped entry to the client. He steps in and closes the door behind himself, the lock clicking only promoting my apprehension for accepting his case. I wish my boss wouldn't have talked me into it; wish he wouldn't have made a fuss about me not accepting a male client and how it's not ethical. I can accept whatever client I damn well please, and I don't want a man telling me otherwise. But I have to keep my job. It's always been my dream to be a lawyer. It was my father's dream, too, but he could never afford the schooling. That's why he worked so hard to make sure I got in. He wanted it for me as badly as he wanted it for himself.

"Hi, I'm Joel Miller," the man's voice interrupts me from mindlessly shuffling through papers on my desk.

When I turn my gaze up to his I feel myself gulp, flicking my eyes briefly over to the shut door before having them settle back onto his. They're soft and brown, inviting, and seeming wholly innocent. His skin is tanned and smooth, only having slight wrinkles at the creases of his eyes. He has dark hair that's a bit longer, resulting in small, half-curls scattered sporadically on his head.

His hand is extended to mine, and I stand, reluctantly taking it to maintain professionalism. I never should've accepted a male client. My heart rate must be through the roof at this point, my palms a sweaty mess that he probably took notice of. God, get it together, y/n. It's your job.

"How can I help you today, Mr. Miller?" My voice projects smoothly, not having a hint of anxiety in it.

How did I manage to pull that off?

He shifts a bit in his seat before his eyes meet mine, still having that magnetic, gentle demeanor to them. "Well, I just wanted to say thank you for seeing me on such short notice."

I smile with a nod, even though I didn't really have a choice. My boss was so heavily insisting that I chose a male client, that he basically threw this guy into my lap.

"Of course, Mr. Miller."

"I own Miller Carpentry over on Hugh street," he gestures a tanned finger in the general direction, "and recently I hired a few new people to go do some jobs independently without me being a shadow. Well, that was a mistake. One of them took the money from a few jobs and never gave me, the company, a percentage of it."

My pen glides across the paper as I take notes of his claim, trying not to focus on the fact that we're alone in the room. I make bullet points of everything I'd like to incorporate if this gets brought to court, adding potential selling points beneath each sentence.

"And I'm assuming you tried to reach out and you had no luck?"

Joel shrugs. "It's like he's a ghost. Can't find him anywhere."

"How much did he make off with? Do you know?"

He exhales sharply. "At least five grand."

My eyes flick to the closed door again, letting out a gentle sigh as I try to relax. "I'll contact a friend at the police station and see if he can't find your worker. If he doesn't pay, he'll go to jail and end up having to pay you back one way or another."

"I contacted police, and they said to find a lawyer in the meantime because he most likely won't just give it up."

I scoff as I roll my eyes. "People are untrustworthy."

Joel beams at me once I stop scribbling, my tense body shifting again. "In the ten years I've had my business, this is the first time this has happened, so I'd like to say that's not true."

"Ah, so you're a carpenter and an optimist. Sounds exhausting."

He laughs heartily, the sound slightly relaxing me. "I think it's only normal for lawyers to be pessimists. You deal with criminals for a living."

"I like to avoid taking on cases that make me uncomfortable, Mr. Miller. So, no. I don't normally deal with criminals."

His fingers scratch at his slight facial hair as he continues smiling. The hairs are gray mixed with mostly black, like a medley of salt and pepper.

"I don't blame you. I couldn't do it. It's mentally demanding, I'm sure."

My mouth twists up slightly. "It entertains my therapist."

Joel chuckles, my shoulders relaxing a bit more. "I wanted to discuss cost with you. How much will you cost if we go to court and we win?"

"When you win, it'll be about two and a half grand."

He breathes out heavily. "Okay, I can swing that. I'll be able to use the half of what I'm owed from him, then."

"There's cheaper lawyers out there, Mr. Miller. If finances are an issue, I can refer you to someone else."

He shakes his head vehemently. "A friend suggested you to me, and she said you were great. So, I thought it would be best to go to someone that has a good reputation."

I beam. "I'm glad to hear good things about me."

Joel grins back, flashing a neat, white smile. I'm ashamed to admit that I find him incredibly attractive. It's been years since I've looked at a man in any way other than a predator, but Joel seems—kind. I'm immediately putting an end to those thoughts, shaking my head in disgust for betraying the promise I made to myself when I was seventeen. I'll never let a man in again, and I intend on keeping that promise.

Clearing my throat, I pick up my pen again. "May I have your home and email addresses, please?"

He recites them to me and I scribble them down, nodding my thanks.

"I'll keep in touch via email with any updates on what I hear back. Could I also get the man's first and last name?"

"Kevin Bridges," Joel says bitterly. "Bastard."

I chuckle, a sudden buzzing interrupting the meeting. Joel pulls his phone out and gives me an apologetic look before he answers the call.

"Hi, honey, I'm in an important meeting. Are you okay?" Joel hums sweetly.

Must be his wife, right? I glance over to his left hand and notice an empty ring finger. Okay, his girlfriend, then.

"I'll be home soon. Just stay with Mrs. Cheshire until I get there, okay? I don't want you home alone." His eyes briefly flick to mine and I smile. "Okay. I love you too, Sarah. Bye." Joel sighs with raised brows as he beams. "I'm sorry, that was my daughter."

"Oh," I grin, for some reason feeling relieved. "How old is she?"

"Ten. She thinks she's a full-grown adult who can stay home unsupervised. I just have her go by the neighbor's when I don't make it home in time after school. She's an old lady that loves my Sarah to death."

My chest aches when he talks about his daughter, so much enthusiasm and evident love in his words. It reminds me of my dad and I, and it makes me miss him desperately.

"Sarah seems like a lucky girl to have you as her dad," I smile. "It's just me and my dad, too. My mom left the picture when I was very little. Drugs."

Joel's brows knit with what I can only describe as sympathy. I don't want him to pity me. "I'm sorry. Sarah's mom died when she was a baby, so she doesn't really know what it's like to have a mom."

"I'm sorry for your loss." My voice is robotic, as I always have to be to detach myself from my clients. "Poor girl," I say with a hint of my genuine emotion.

"Ah, she's wonderful. Highest grades in her class, and quick as a whip," he laughs fondly. "Definitely gets it from her mom."

I chuckle, clearing my throat as I stand, holding my hand out. "It was nice meeting you, Mr. Miller. I'll be in touch."

He stands, too, taking my palm into his and giving a firm shake. "It was very nice meeting you, Ms. Y/l/n. Thank you again."

I nod, practically sprinting to the door to allow the fresh air into my suffocating office. Joel walks out with a grin, my eyes briefly following him before I disappear behind my desk again. It feels like I can finally breathe now that he's not here. It's not that I felt unsafe or uncomfortable in his presence, but it's exactly that fact that concerns me. Last time I felt comfortable around a man, horrible things happened. I can't let a man force his power over me ever again. I won't let it happen.

My house is empty as it always is when I walk in, the crisp air greeting me in the delicious way it does to alleviate my warmed body from the scorching summer weather. It's July, and I'm convinced the sweltering heat will be the death of me.

I kick off my heels and strip off my stockings from beneath my skirt, laying them on my neatly made bed before walking naked to the shower. The hot water is a welcoming feeling after the stress of the day.

Joel Miller is the first male stranger I've been alone in a room with since I was seventeen, which was eight years ago. He was friendly and handsome, but he also needed something from me. Men are always nice to you when they need something. I can't think about his soft brown eyes and expect them to be just as inviting when he no longer needs my help.

How am I going to continue meeting him in private until his case is solved? I'm so damned anxious the entire time, and it eats me alive. Yes, he seems kind, but so do all men until it's their time to strike and you instantly become their prey.

Panic consumes me, reliving the horrible, violent memories that I've experienced as I fall to the shower floor, holding myself tightly in my arms. I was so young, and somebody that I loved and trusted took advantage of me. Of course I've somewhat moved passed the sexual abuse, but there's always my days where something triggers my brain, and I'm in a rough state for the remainder of my time awake.

Today is one of those days. Joel's presence set me into a downward spiral of all-consuming panic. I'm tempted to plead to my boss about it, and beg for him to be reassigned elsewhere, but I know he won't have it without an explanation.

Nobody knows what happened to me when I was seventeen besides my dad and a few police officers. My ex-boyfriend who abused me, Justin, got a few months in jail since he was also seventeen. The man who helped him, however, was twenty-four at the time and got sentenced to one year in prison. I wanted the judge to grant a lengthier sentence, but since it was their first offenses, he cut them some slack.

Being a lawyer, I've had several opportunities to defend sexual assault victims, and I have. I've always advocated for lengthier sentences, and almost every time I'm met with a judge who takes my suggestion. I can't help but wonder if Joel's friend who suggested me to him was a woman who I've helped with a sexual assault case.

I'm glad that it's not common knowledge amongst the public about my past. It's not something I want people knowing and pitying me for, or thinking I'd be too emotional to do my job. Never once have I lost my composure in a court room during one of those cases, and I never will.

Before anything else, I'm a professional, and I don't let my emotions get the best of me at work. I'm not the type to express my feelings, either, not even to my dad. He always knows when something's bothering me, but I normally change the subject and brush it off as to just being tired. It's just hard to open up. I hate doing it.

Later as I lay in bed, slightly wine-drunk and ready for sleep, I'm reminded of the gentle burr of Joel Miller's voice. His hand was heavy and calloused in mine, making me feel as if someone had just given me a massive weight to hold. His tanned skin flashes in my mind, and I can't help but wonder what he smells like. Does he have a specific scent that smells just as manly as he appears?

Without realizing, I'm grinning with my eyes closed, picturing my fingers in his loose, soft-looking hair as I inhale whatever aroma lingers on his neck.

***

My eyes scan the document in front of me, nodding as I copy a few pieces of information and type it into my email for a client. A slight ding hums through my computer, and I instantly click on my email notification.

To: Y/n Y/l/n

Subject: Rat Bastard

Hi, Ms. Y/l/n,

I was just reaching out to let you know that the son of a bitch was finally caught. He agreed to give me back what was owed to me, and wants to avoid court and jail at all costs. I decided to not press charges even though he's still a bastard. Thank you again for all of your help so quickly. I really appreciate it. I know that you don't need to be paid unless you win the case, but I still took up your time. If you ever need some carpentry work done around your house, I'll do whatever you need for free. Please don't hesitate to call or text if you ever need anything. My number is 276-555-0909. Thank you again.

Joel Miller

A little sigh leaves my curled lips, my heart drumming in my chest. I'm relieved yet saddened that Joel won't be joining me in my office anymore. Of course I know that I can contact him at any time, but I don't need any carpentry work done around the house even a little bit.

My washer has been on the fritz, leaking a bit almost every time I do laundry, but I was just going to buy a new one. The one I have isn't old, there's just something wrong with it. Should I ask Joel for help with it?

No, that's ridiculous, right?

How insane am I that I'm letting a strange man into my house just because I want to spend some time around him? No, I'm crazy. I can't do that. What if he hurt me? What if he tried to attack me?

I immediately halt my racing thoughts, closing his email and resuming my other one. Just because I find Joel attractive, doesn't mean that I can just start letting my sky high walls down. He's still a man, and that makes him dangerous.

At home, I finish my call with my dad. We caught up on our current work lives and anything new that's happened. It's luckily all the same as usual, and we made plans to see each other soon.

My bare feet patter into my laundry room, seeing that there's a puddle on the floor, making me scoff and curse. It feels like the universe is telling me to call Joel and have him come over to help me, but I'm too afraid.

If I invite him over, he'll be the first man ever in this house, and I don't want to forsake my promise. Deciding to throw caution to the wind, I let out a sharp exhale, pulling up the email app to copy Joel's number, pasting it into my phone. My thumb hovers over the "call" option, my heart feeling like it's about to leap out of my chest.

Before I realize what I've done, the line is trilling, and it's too late to hang up now.

"Hello?" he answers curiously.

"Hi, Mr. Miller. It's y/n y/l/n."

"Oh, hi!" Joel says brightly. "I take it you got my email, then."

"Yes," I say shyly, clearing my throat. "Um, are you busy?"

The line is quiet for a moment, then he speaks. "No, actually. I just settled into the couch with Sarah to watch some show that she likes, but I don't think she cares whether I'm here to watch it or not," he laughs. "What's up? Is everything okay?"

"How much do you know about fixing washing machines?"

Joel chuckles. "I'm a very handy man, Ms. Y/l/n."

"Mine has been leaking for a bit, and I just walked into my laundry room to find a huge puddle. You think you can help?"

"Definitely. I'll grab my tools. Could you send me your address? I'll leave now."

I clear my throat, panic constricting it. "Uh, if you're comfortable with it, you can bring Sarah. I know you said you usually leave her with the neighbor if you can't supervise her."

Joel laughs lightly. "I'm not sure if she'll want to come, but I'll ask her. Thank you for thinking of her. That's sweet of you."

I giggle, the thought of Sarah being here comforting me. "Of course. I'll see you soon."

"Bye."

"Bye." I hang up.

I'm suddenly scrambling to my bathroom, drying my wet feet on the carpet that lays in front of the sink. My fingers run through my hair in an anxious manner, attempting to tame it a bit. I opt for throwing it up into a messy bun, reapplying my subtle makeup just a bit to my eyes.

Why am I trying to look good for Joel? God knows. I haven't been this way in years, but something about him just draws me in. Everything in my mind is screaming at me to not give in, and to stay alone as I had planned to. It's safer when you're alone. There's no one here to hurt you. It's just you and solitude.

When I hear my doorbell, my heart picks up its pace, and the panic has settled in to my bones. I'm letting in deep breaths, breathing them out slowly. Joel won't hurt me, right? He's only here to fix my washer. He wouldn't do anything else...right?

I swing open the door and see Joel with a smile fitted onto his face, and a large toolbox in his right hand. He's wearing dark blue jeans that hang from his hips, a white v-neck shirt and large brown work boots on his feet.

My eyes search for his daughter, desperately hoping that she's here. "Hi, thanks for coming by." I gesture him inside.

Joel nods and steps in, standing in the living room. "Your house is beautiful. When did you buy it?"

"Last year," my voice croaks, making me clear it. "But thank you. I like it a lot. It's my favorite home I've ever lived in."

He chuckles, his eyes briefly on the floor before they meet mine again. "Care to show me to your flood?"

I laugh, beginning to walk toward the laundry room. I open the door, revealing the several towels that I've laid out to clean up the mess. Joel steps right onto them, his boots leaving a distinct print in the fabric.

"Did you turn the water off to the house?"

I nod. "Yes, actually. I figured that might be a problem."

Joel settles down onto his knees on the damp tile, opening the washer door. "Just don't want to be sprayed."

My eyes linger back to the closed front door, shifting in the entryway of the laundry room. "So, Sarah didn't want to come, I take it?"

"Nah, she wanted to watch her show. I told you she didn't care if I was there or not."

I giggle, admiring the flex of his biceps as he stretches into the washer. "I'm sorry to pull you away."

"No, don't be," he beams at me. "I'm more than happy to help you."

"Would you like a drink, Mr. Miller?"

He chuckles. "Water would be fine, and please call me Joel."

"Right," I smile, my cheeks feeling hot.

I leave the laundry room, making my way to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water out of the fridge, walking it back to Joel where half of his body is inside of the washing machine. My lingering gaze admires the strength of his thighs in his jeans. He's such a man.

God, what is he doing to me? I never think like this. Not even about handsome celebrities I see on tv.

"Here you go," I finally say, setting the bottle down beside him. "Is there anything else you need from me?"

"No. I think I see your problem, though."

"Oh, yeah?" I ask hopefully. "What is it?"

"There's a bit of a hole in your water connection. I'm not sure how that happened, but you'll need a new pipe."

I sigh, shaking my head. "How much do those cost?"

He leans out of the washer, standing up. "Free, because I'm buying it."

My eyebrows fit together. "Joel, I can't have you purchase the part and install it. It's too much."

"You helped me. Now I want to help you."

"I barely did anything."

He smiles vastly. "But you were willing to do everything."

"It's just my job." My voice is small.

Joel eyes me. "Do you not like people doing things for you?"

I sink in to myself, my cheeks feeling hot. "I don't know. I guess not."

"Hm," he smirks. "Would you like to go to the supply store with me for a new hose?"

"Sure," I say before even thinking.

Joel beams as we exit the room, my hands shaking as I slide on my shoes. I grip my keys, feeling them jingle more than necessary from my trembling as I lock the front door. I turn around to see a large black truck, relaxing a bit at the roominess of the cab.

Why did I agree to having Joel drive me around town? The last man who ever drove me anywhere was Justin, and I was stuck where he took me, having horrible things done to me with no escape. The memory makes me wince as panic twists in my chest.

Joel opens my door for me, and I look to him with a shocked expression. He holds his hand out for me to grab and surprisingly I do, loading myself into the passenger seat of his truck.

He steps into the driver's seat, my eyes adverted away from him as I buckle my seatbelt. My leg is bouncing anxiously, my gaze fixed out the passenger window.

"Are you okay, y/n?" Joel asks gently from beside me as we drive down my road.

"Yeah," I say breathlessly. "Sorry, just a long day."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

My head turns to look at him, and he's giving me a gentle smile back, the wrinkles by his eyes deepening. His eyes are still that puppy-dog style brown that is alluring and comforting all at once. He isn't looking at me any differently than he was in my office, and he no longer needs anything from me.

"Oh, uh, just a difficult case, I guess. I can't give too many details, you know," I fib.

He nods, "Of course. Well, from what I've heard, you're a wonderful lawyer. My friend raved about you."

"Who's your friend?"

"Vivian Meyers. You helped her with her sexual assault case."

My body stiffens. Damn, I knew it. "Oh, yes. I remember her."

His eyes soften as they look to me. "You really helped her get justice."

"It's just what should've been done. Too many of those creeps get away with light sentences. I don't let that happen, if I can help it."

He beams wide at me, turning his gaze back to the road. "You're an incredible woman, y/n."

My cheeks warm to his compliment, my body wiggling in my seat. "Thank you."

After the supply store, Joel gets right to work on the washing machine, shoving his body behind it to unscrew the faulty hose on the outside to replace it. My stomach turns with hunger, my hand flying to it to grip it tightly. I was far too anxious to eat earlier, and now I'm suffering the consequences of that decision.

"Can I treat you to dinner?" I ask Joel, gazing at his legs since it's the only part of him I can see.

He laughs. "You don't have to repay me for this, y/n. I really don't mind."

"C'mon," I laugh, "please? You've been so kind."

Joel lets out a loud, dramatic sigh, making me giggle. "Fine. What did you have in mind?"

"Ooo, something simple. I'm not much of a cook."

He laughs. "That makes two of us. I'm good with anything. I'm not picky."

"Chinese food?"

"God, my stomach is growling just thinking about it. Yes, please," he says loudly.

I chuckle as I pull out my phone, adding a few things to the basket that I want. "What do you like? I ordered chicken and broccoli, egg rolls, pork fried rice, and steamed dumplings."

"Oh, god," he groans playfully, the sound stirring something unfamiliar within me. "Yes. All of that sounds perfect. Maybe just add a general tso's chicken and that'll be good. That's my favorite."

"You got it."

"I'll be done in about five minutes. The old hose is almost off," he grunts as he exerts himself. "Forgive me for not being dainty for dinner."

I laugh, watching him reach his hand out for the new hose. "Please. I'm just in my comfy home clothes. You're fine."

"I'm a mess and I smell like old water. You sure you want me to stay?"

"Joel, please," I almost scold. "Yes, I want you to stay."

My eyes widen as I realize what I've just said. I've broken so many of my rules today, and I don't know what to make of it. I've let him in my house, let him drive me around, and now I'm insisting that he stays for dinner. What is this man doing to me?

Joel pops out from behind the washing machine a bit later, the Chinese food saying it'll arrive in twenty minutes. His white shirt is dampened on the side, causing it to be a bit see through. His body looks soft, but still in shape. I'm not even sure how old he is, but I know he has to be older than me by at least a few years since he has a daughter that's ten.

My eyes linger on his wet shirt. "I'm sorry, I don't have anything for you to change in to."

He shrugs with a smile. "If you don't mind, neither do I." His eyes look around as we leave the laundry room, making our way to the living room. "So, you live alone, I take it?"

"Yes," I breathe. "Being alone is one of my favorite things."

Joel chuckles. "Not me. I couldn't stand it if I didn't have Sarah. She's a blessing for many reasons."

I smile as I walk into my kitchen, bending down into my fridge to pull out an amber bottle. "Beer?"

He nods. "Didn't take you for a beer drinker."

"I keep them around for my dad, actually," I chuckle. "More of a wine drinker, if I'm honest."

Joel twists off the top and discards it on the counter, leaning against it as I take out my wine that I was drinking just last night, thinking of the man standing before me as I fell asleep.

"Where does your dad live?" he asks.

"Oh, about an hour from here. We see each other when we can since we both work like crazy."

He grins wide at me. "What does he do?"

"He works in a warehouse. I'm always worried he's going to hurt himself, but it keeps him in good shape."

"I'm sure he'll be fine. How old is he?"

"He's forty-five. My mom and him had me when they were both young."

Joel's brows furrow, seemingly wanting to say something upsetting, but it looks like he decides against it when his face changes. "Yeah, my wife and I had Sarah when I was twenty-five."

He's thirty-five?! God, he's still so young, but older than me by a decent amount. Why do I find that so attractive?

"You said your wife passed away," I begin cautiously, "how did she die?"

He gives me a soft, small smile. "Car accident. She was on her way to work and someone t-boned her on the driver's side going sixty miles an hour. They told me it was quick and she didn't feel anything."

My hand reaches out and grips his forearm. "God, Joel, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay. It was nine years ago. I've come to terms with it and learned how to cope. It took a long time, but—" his voice trails off. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be depressing."

"No! I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked." I suddenly move my hand, realizing that it was lingering against his skin.

"Y/n," he chuckles, shaking his head, "you can always ask me anything."

We stand there smiling at each other for a moment, the air feeling electrically charged between us. I take a sharp breath in as the doorbell ding rips me from my little daydreaming bubble, and I slightly jump before scurrying away to the front door.

The young girl hands me the food and I thank her as she leaves, gathering the bags in my hands and settling them down gently onto the coffee table.

"Not the dining room?" Joel asks with a slight chuckle.

I grab the remote and flip on the tv. "Thought we could do with some entertainment."

He leaves to go to the kitchen, returning with my wine and his beer, placing them on the table beside the food. "I'm good with anything."

Joel sits beside me on the couch, and I'm hyper-aware of how close he is. I pull out all of the food, quickly finishing the wine in my glass before I pour myself some more.

I turn on a random movie that's playing, not really knowing what it is. "Chopsticks?" I hand him a pair.

Joel takes them and breaks them apart, giving me a slight smirk. "Do you want me to grab a plate?"

"Only if you want them. I'm fine with just eating out of the containers. Doing dishes might be my least favorite thing to do."

He laughs loudly, his head cocked back. "For someone who doesn't like doing dishes, your house is extremely clean."

"Well, I'm a bit of a control freak, I guess. I'm lazy, but my brain doesn't let me be."

Joel chuckles, flashing that gorgeous smile of his. "Being a control freak probably comes from being a lawyer."

No, it's because I don't trust anybody and I must do everything that I can myself.

"Yeah," I lie, chuckling slightly.

I dig my chopsticks into the chicken, pushing the meat and broccoli between the thin wood before bringing it to my lips. I groan at the flavor, my stomach growling in delight.

"This is so good," I moan, nodding my head.

Joel takes a bite and rolls his eyes in enjoyment. "This is exactly what I needed. I usually eat dinner by now."

"Me, too. I was just too distracted with the washer. I'm sorry for dragging you out here."

He shakes his head. "I wanted to help. Please, stop apologizing. You don't ever have to apologize to me."

I swallow the dry lump of attraction that has formed in my throat, leaning forward to pour myself more wine, quickly downing the glass.

Joel laughs as he glances at me. "I guess today was really tough, then?"

No, being near you is next to impossible.

"Yes," I lie again, pouring myself another glass. "I'm glad you got your money back. I'm surprised he was so willing to give it back once he was caught. Most people would fight it."

He shrugs. "He's stupid."

I laugh, shoveling some rice into my mouth with a hand beneath the chopsticks to prevent any rice from falling onto the floor.

"Most men are," I blurt out.

Joel laughs. "I'd love to say you're wrong, but you're not."

I laugh with him, the alcohol lightening my anxieties. "You're not, though."

"Oh, that's not true," he chuckles. "I've done some really stupid stuff."

"Like what?"

He leans back slightly, wiping his mouth with one of the provided napkins. "When I was a teenager, probably about sixteen, I really wanted this girl to like me. So, I thought the cool thing would be to light fireworks off in front of her house. I swore she would think it was the most romantic gesture she's ever seen. Well, turns out that the tree she had in her front yard was incredibly flammable."

I gasp with my hand to my mouth. "Oh, my god!"

Joel nods with a vast grin. "Yup. Tree burned to the ground and she never spoke to me again. Damn thing nearly fell onto her house! I was lucky her parents didn't try to get me in trouble for that. They were furious, but they knew it wasn't my intention."

I laugh loudly, my head cocked back. "I can't believe that. That's hilarious!"

"She did not think so."

"I've never had anyone do something so crazy for me before." My laughter fades, flashing back to Justin and his friend cornering me in that unfamiliar room.

Quickly, I down more wine, my leg beginning to bounce again as I attempt to push away the negative memories that are replaying in my head. No, no, no. This can't happen now.

"Are you okay, y/n?" Joel asks, cutting me back to reality.

My body is trembling, and I'm doing my best to remain calm, but the terror in my mind won't stop. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Y/n, you're shaking." Joel goes to reach out but I quickly retreat. "Was it something I said?"

"No!" my voice answers quickly. "No, Joel, you're fine."

He lets out a sharp sigh. "You're having a panic attack, I can tell. I had them all the time after my wife died. Talk to me, y/n. What's happening?"

"I can't tell you, Joel. It's—too much."

He backs away a bit as he nods. "Okay, how about I tell you another story about how I'm stupid?"

My eyes squeeze shut, nodding my head. "Tell me."

"When Sarah was born, I hadn't gotten much sleep that night before my wife went into labor because I was so nervous about being a dad. I hadn't been eating or sleeping well for a few days, actually. Anyway, she finally goes into labor and I'm wide awake, running through the house to collect all of her things and get her to the hospital. Well, when we get there, and she's finally having the baby, I faint."

I laugh, my heart rate beginning to settle. "You fainted?!"

"It wasn't the blood, the screams, or any of that. It's because I freaked myself out so bad that I couldn't sleep or eat! So, I basically missed my daughter's birth because I'm an idiot."

My lips quiver up. "You were scared to be a dad?"

"Oh, definitely," he nods, beginning to smile, "but once I held Sarah, I knew being a dad is what I'm meant to do with my life. I loved her from the second I saw her, and I still get that feeling every time I look at her. That girl has my whole heart with her."

My brows slant, emotion welling up in my chest that I force down. "Joel, you're an amazing dad. I can already tell that."

"Thanks," he laughs shyly. "I do my best. It's hard being two parents."

"My dad has been two parents from the time I was Sarah's age. He's everything to me, and I know you're everything to her, too. My dad got two jobs just to get me through law school, something he wanted but never had the money for."

"He sounds like an amazing man."

I nod with a small smile. "He is."

Joel's eyes flick to my legs, then back up to my gaze. "Your legs stopped bouncing. Are you feeling better?"

"Yes," I breathe out slowly. "Thank you, Joel."

He nods. "You're welcome." His eyes flick between mine. "Do you get those often?"

"Not super often, no. Just lately I've been having some triggers, I guess."

Joel frowns with furrowed brows. "What I always tried to do was just take deep breaths and distract my brain by watching something light. Have you tried that?"

I nod with a smirk. "Therapist recommended."

He chuckles. "Mine too."

"You helped a lot, honestly. My dad is the only one who was ever able to help talk me down from an episode."

Joel looks to me with those soft eyes, my living room light shining off the velvety brown of them. "That's a very nice compliment. I had to go through them completely alone. I only had my one year old daughter when they were at their worst. If you ever want to reach out when you're panicking, you can. You shouldn't have to go through them alone."

My gaze softens, those tears trying to make their way to the surface again but I shoo them away. "That means a lot, Joel. Thank you."

"You're welcome, y/n."

After the movie ends, and I'm tipsy from the wine, I lean onto Joel's shoulder, my eyes beginning to flutter closed. I feel calm in this moment beside him, and I'm not sure if it's the alcohol or just Joel.

"Y/n?" he whispers.

"Hmm?"

"It's getting late and I have to get back to Sarah. Will you be okay if I leave?"

I nod, lifting my head to look up at him. "Of course."

His eyes search mine, concern etched into them. "Promise me you'll call or text if you're panicking again. I don't want you going through them alone."

"You're sweet to care, Joel," I beam at him. "Thank you."

He grins as his slightly glares at me. "You didn't promise."

"That's because I can't. I don't open up or express my feelings to anybody, not even my dad."

Joel goes to touch my face, but stops himself. "I was that way too. I promise it's better to not face whatever you're going through alone."

With a steady hand, I grab his and place it on my cheek. "I'm sorry for freaking out earlier. I'm embarrassed."

He tucks some hair behind my ear, cupping the side of my face. "No, don't be. I'm glad I was here to help."

I lean into his touch, my eyes closing a bit to savor the feeling of his skin on mine. When I open them, I see Joel gazing at me, giving me a look that I know is want. Normally it would completely freak me out, but the tipsy affect of the wine mixed with Joel's gentle aura have me feeling incredibly—safe.

"You can," I say softly, my eyes on his lips.

Joel cocks his head. "I can, what?"

"Kiss me. I can see that you want to."

He chuckles slightly, rubbing his thumb against my cheek. "Do you want me to?"

I nod. "Yes."

Joel slowly leans in, my heart suddenly pounding in my chest as he gently takes my lips against his. His mouth is gentle and eager, my own mouth parting to allow him to slip his tongue into it. He does exactly that, eliciting a quiet moan from my throat. He tastes of beer and Chinese food, mixed with his own unique flavor. It's intoxicating, making me feel more drunk on him than the wine.

My fingers go into his hair, gently tugging to control the kiss as our tongues swirl together. My body is alight with a passion I've never experienced, and there's an ache between my legs. Joel's right hand stays on my face, the other at the small of my back, pulling me in closer to him.

I part our lips and kiss his stubbly jaw, moving down to his neck and throat. He lets out a small groan of approval, the sound further arousing me.

"Y/n," he breathes out, stopping me in my tracks. "Please don't take this the wrong way, but we should stop."

My lips come to a halt from his bobbing Adam's apple, moving my face into view of his. "You want to stop?"

He strokes my face, his gaze having a bit of heat to it. "I've thought you were beautiful since the moment I walked into your office, and I've wanted to kiss you all night. That being said, you drank a bit, and I don't want you doing something you'll regret."

I stare at him with a dumbfounded expression, the rate of my heart only increasing from the realization that Joel might actually be a good guy.

"I—" my voice trails off, "I can't believe you said that."

Joel cocks his head as he chuckles. "Why? Who the hell would take advantage of a drunk woman?"

"A lot of people."

"A lot of fucking creeps," he mutters. "It makes me a bit sad that you're impressed by the bare minimum from a man. Have you ever had a decent boyfriend?"

With tears filling my eyes, I shake my head. "No."

Joel's eyes soften as he pulls me in to a tight hug, my body weakening in his hold. He embraces me for a moment, the tears finally spilling over my lids and onto my cheeks. Is this the way men are supposed to treat women? Am I supposed to feel this safe and cherished? I barely know him, yet I feel like he'd go to war to protect me.

"Joel," I say through my sniffling.

He pulls away, swiping my tears away with his thumbs. "Yes, y/n?"

My shoulders sag as I let out a large sigh. "Would you like to go on a date with me some time?"

Joel beams, nodding his head. "Definitely. This Saturday?"

I giggle, "I'd love to."

When Joel leaves, he gives me a soft, lingering kiss at the front door, smiling as I watch him walk away with his tool kit in his hand. My body stays leaning against the doorframe until he drives away, letting out a sigh of pure contentment.

I haven't felt this giddy since Justin and I first started dating, but the fuzzy feelings towards him were short-lived. We didn't date for very long before we slept together for the first time, and after that it was like something switched in him. I was upset that I gave him my virginity, but I trusted him when I did. It was probably about two weeks later when him and his friend took me to his house and had their way with me.

My eyes close as the vivid images of them come back, doing my best to shoo them from my mind. I'd like to be honest with Joel and tell him just how scared I am of being intimate with him, but I don't want to freak him out.

Maybe I will after our date this Saturday. I was more than ready and willing to jump his bones tonight, a feeling I never thought I'd get again. But Joel seems to be changing me, and though I'm terrified, I'm somehow also hopeful that it'll be okay with him.

****

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