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@snowedpeach liked for a starter from this. based on this (third bullet)
"Fucking shit. Come on, you stupid fucking fuck." Dallas grumbled as he stared at the black screen boasting nothing but a blank battery, waiting for his phone to get enough batter to just turn on. He wasn't usually one to lose his temper. Today had really been trying him though. It was the first time he was flying out to meet them after their internship ended and they'd moved home. This was a big deal, but work had run late. He hadn't even had time to go home and change, still wearing a worn navy fire department tee, and he hadn't had time to charge his phone either. The stupid thing had died on the way to the airport. Before he'd even noticed. Before he'd gotten a chance to tell them that he was on the way and the flight had been delayed. How were they supposed to know where to meet him? What if they thought he'd ghosted, that he hadn't even boarded the flight in the first place? Standing anchored to the wall near baggage claim by his phone charger, he'd plugged into the first outlet he'd found, and his excitement to see them was fading as the sudden urge to rip his hair out hit. "Unfuckingbelievable," he sighed heavily and let his head fall back, staring at the ceiling but really just glaring at the heavens. "I know you hate me, but fuck you, asshole."
#snowedpeach#{ dallas threads }#Hiya! Hope this works for you.#Please let me know if you need me to change anything and feel free to throw whoever you'd like at him!
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@regulus-regent liked for a starter!
Y'know, when he first shows up in new universe and can't help himself from making a scene trying to help people, he's come to expect a strong reaction- shock, confusion, fear, the like. There was certainly a lot of that when the massive red alien had leapt in to catch a out-of-control hovercar that was going to crash.
Things like confrontation, suspicion, and even interrogation were pretty common too, but that was usually from government dudes or cops or whatever. Not the case here, though.
The spiky haired man before him not looking like either of those, but what no less mean-mugging him about it like he had authority.
"... do you like, need something, dude?" The Tetramand asked, equal parts annoyed and confused as all four eyes stared down at the man, having not really fully listened to the initial questioning.
#𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐨 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞! // 𝐈𝐂 //#𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐑𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞. // 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐀𝐫𝐦𝐬 //#regulus regent#// hiya! hope this works for you
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The presence of a clearing outside of the walls of the Court had proven to be the perfect spot for Clorinde to carry out her usual regiment of practice. While the duelists were provided with a ring inside the city, she found that she didn't appreciate the various stares and audience that she would gain-- her popularity was a burden more than a positive, and as a result, she chose to remain secluded during her training hours.
A flurry of lightning-fast swings effortlessly slashed through the air, and her arms had begun to burn with the effort. She had been here for hours at this point, and the sweat dripping from her chin gave her enough of an idea that she was nearing the end of her workout. Not to mention, judging by how high the sun sat in the sky, she would most likely be required in the Court.
As she moved to sheath her sword, Clorinde's eyes flickered to the side, surveying the trees and foliage surrounding the open area. She sensed the addition of an unwanted guest, and she made her way to the side to retrieve her dusty cloak from the ground. "Might I ask who I have the pleasure of entertaining?" Her words resounded in the makeshift arena, gaze continuing to make a quick sweep of her surroundings.
@predvestnik
#;ic#;closed starter#predvestnik#// hiya!! i hope this works let me know if you want changes or something else
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@ordonianpumpkin / @bravelink liked this post for a starter!
((AHHH hello old friend! ;u;/ tysm for requesting a starter!))
The trees whispered of a visitor: one clad in hero's garb as green as the forest itself. Their voices broke Spring's tranquil concentration where she'd been growing a bed of sunflowers, and as soon as she heard their description, she knew who it had to be.
Excitement surged through her. With a mental promise to return to the sunflowers at a later time, she abandoned her task and sped off into the forest. Spring had met many people over the ages. She remembered every one of them; holding each friend close to her heart no matter how long ago their bond had formed. Normally she would be more cautious if she were meeting someone new—but such measures weren't necessary for an old friend.
Soon enough she spotted his silhouette through the foliage. "Link!" she called. Her bright grin outshone the sunlight dappling the forest floor. Unhesitatingly, Spring closed the distance between them, her wings enveloping him as she drew him into a hug. "Oh, it has been far too long, my friend! I am so glad to see you visiting the forest again."
Only then realizing she may be smothering him, Spring was quick to let go. Even the sheepishness that crept into her smile couldn't eclipse her delight. "How have you been?"
#bravelink#ordonianpumpkin#《⭒✩⭒ || interaction: nature in bloom (spring) 》#AHHHH hiya! owo/ it's great to see you're still on tumblr!#I hope you don't mind me playing on the fact that these two have interacted before!#and also sorry for @ing your non-RP blog X'D#idk if tumblr won't let you @ side blogs or what but I couldn't get the @ for your actual RP blog to work asdlkfdj#is it tumblr or just ME being stupid? BOTH ARE EQUALLY LIKELY SO WHO KNOWS#thanks for requesting a starter! ❤️
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OXYGEN Maxis-Match Eyes
Hiya! The recent few days I've spent my time on finishing these eyes, which initially were an abandoned project from a while ago, but anyways, here they are! They are a new, maxis-matchified version (cleaner, more cartoony/less photorealistic, plus some more changes) of one of my favorite eyes I've ever made, the Heaven eyes.
Things you should know:
Base game compatible.
For fem + masc frames, infant-elder.
Features a clear, gameplay-friendly sclera.
68 colors (base 18 ones + my own palette of 50)
Available as default, non default & facepaint variations.
Compatible with HQ mod, pics taken without it.
Hope you like them as much as I do, please enjoy ♡
➔ DOWNLOAD (Patreon FREE)
If you like, please consider to support my work 🖤 ● ALL MY CC DOWNLOADS
#my cc#ts4cc#s4cc#the sims 4#the sims#simblr#ts4#sims 4#sims#sims 4 custom content#ts4 cc#s4 cc#ts4mm#s4mm#ts4 mm#s4 mm#ts4 maxismatch#ts4 maxis match
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@tjpatched ... liked this.
this is not a graceful movement inside. they needed a place to crash, and he'd offered up his place. maybe they could have used the door, but they were a little drunk, and the window had seemed like the funnier option. just one of the perks of having nadine around, apparently.
"shit, shit, sorry. i was trying not to uh, be loud." they have done the exact opposite. "did that look cool, at all? or just really stupid."
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I read your post about open enrollment for the ACA and was hoping you might expand on why you believe it would take years to dismantle. I've been terrified that with a Republican house/senate, Trump could just snap his fingers and make it go away within months of taking office. I'd love some reassurance that that's not possible.
Hiya, sure I can share some thoughts on the matter! First, it's very important to understand the ACA is a huuuuuuuuuuuuge system with subject matter experts in dozens of places throughout the process. I'm one of those SMEs, but I am at the end of the process where the revenue is generated, so my insight is limited on the public facing pieces.
What this means is that I am professionally embedded in the ACA in a position that exists purely to show what conditions people are treated for and then generate that data into what's called a "risk score". There's about 6 pages I could write on it, but the takeaway is that the ACA is
1) intricately interwoven with the federal government
2) increasingly profitable, sustainable, and growing (it is STILL a for-profit system if you can believe it)
3) wholeheartedly invested in by the largest insurance companies in the country LARGELY due to the fact that they finally learned the rules of how to make the ACA a thriving center of business
4) since the big issuers are arm+leg invested in the ACA, there is a lot of resistance politically and on an industry level to leave it behind (think of the lobbyists, politicians, corporations that will fight tooth and nail to protect their profit + investment)
The process to calculate a risk score takes roughly 2 years. There is an audit for the concurrent year and then a vigorous retro audit for the prev year - - this is a rolling cycle every year. Medicare has a similar process. These are RVP + RADV audits if you would like the jargon.
Eliminating the ACA abruptly is as internally laughable as us finishing the RADV audit ahead of schedule. If Trump were to blow the ACA into smithereens on day 1, he would be drowning in issuer complaints and an economic health sector that is essentially bleeding out. You cut off the RVP early? We have half of next RADV stuck in the gears now. You cut off the RADV early? No issuer will get their "risk adjusted" payments for services rendered in the prev benefit year (to an extent, again very complex multi-process system).
The ACA is GREAT for the public and should be defended on that basis alone. However, the inner capitalistic nature of the ACA is a powerful armor that has conservatives + liberals defending it on a basis of capital + market growth. It's not sexy, but it makes too much money consistently for the system to be easily dismantled.
Or at least that's what I can tell you from the money center of the ACA. they don't bring us up in political conversation because we are confusing to seasoned professionals, boring to industry outsiders, and consistently we are anathema to the anti-ACA talking points.
I am already preparing for next year's RVP for this window of open enrollment. That RVP process will feed into the RADV in 2026. In 2025, we begin the RADV for 2024. If nothing else, the slow fucking gears of CMS will keep the ACA alive until we finish our work at the end of the process. I highly doubt that will be the only reason the ACA is safeguarded, but it is a powerful type of support to pair with people protecting the ACA for other reasons.
I work every day to show, defend, and educate on how many diagnoses are managed thru my company's ACA plans. My specialty is cancer and I see a lot of it. The revenue drive comes from the Medical Loss Ratio (MLR) rule stating only 20% MAX of profit may go to the issuer + the 80% at a minimum must go back to the customer or be invested in expanding benefits. The more people on the plan using it, the higher that 20% becomes for the issuer and the more impactful that 80% becomes for the next year of benefit growth. It is remarkably profitable once issuers stop seeking out "healthy populations". The ACA is a functional method for issuers to tap into a stable customer base (sick/chronic ill customers) that turns a profit, grows, and builds strong consumer bases in each state.
The industry can never walk away from this overnight - - this is the preferred investment for many big players. Changing the direction of those businesses will be a monumental effort that takes years (at least 2 with the audits). In the meantime, you still have benefits, you still have care, and you still have reason to sign up. Let us deal with the bureaucracy bullshit, go get your care and know you have benefits thru 2025 and we will be working to keep it that way for 2026 and forward. This is a wing of the federal government, it is not a jenga tower like Trump wishes.
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Hiya mamas, love love love your work!! Thank you for the time and effort you put into everything 🩵 quick request if you’re up for it; reader interacting with kids (as a job, nieces/nephews/family babies, et.) and the boys getting baby fever 👀👀
ooh I love the idea of the boys getting baby fever ~~ I also ranked these like - most to least likely to get baby fever over you with a child so this is just a quick Drabble before I shower n check out for the night but I hope you like it !!
OT8 SKZ + Baby Fever
Warnings: 18+ content in most of them, MDNI !! - Hyunjin's also mentions having sex at work, so. Take that as you will.
Chris is absolutely the most likely to get baby fever from seeing you with a kid. You'd offered to babysit your friends six month old for the week while she was gone on a work trip and Chris was completely fine with it - but he didn't realize how much he'd love seeing you with the baby. Cuddled up with the chunky little thing on your chest in the evening when he got home, feeding her from the bottles of breast milk provided by the bestie -- he couldn't help but imagine you breastfeeding your baby one day, and his mouth started to water at the idea of your chest swollen with milk --
Jeongin dates to marry - and he marries to have a family. So when he sees you with your bosses son on 'bring your child to work day' (though for you it was 'bring your boyfriend to work day') running around the office, he couldn't help it when his heart began to swell and his pants tented at the image of you with a bump because of him. What? He's still young! Of course he gets horny at the idea of you pregnant with his child.
Hyunjin - breeding kink, no doubt. And quite the romantic - loves seeing you with kids. And it's something he sees often due to your job as an elementary teacher. He gets to visit your class sometimes and watch as you hand out snacks and put on cartoons, sitting with the kids who have a hard time napping by themselves or helping them put on their jackets as they head out for the afternoon. And he thinks it's so cute, of course. But it also makes him really, really want a little one of his own - and with you, no doubt - so there's been a few times he's visited later in the day after the school day is over just so he can bend you over your desk and start on getting you filled up sooner rather than later.
Jisung is another who dates to marry and he's pretty sure he's never been so in love with you up until now - seeing you sitting with the few toddlers in your room at the daycare when he came to pick you up from work. Yeah, you were a little covered in suspicious substances and food from lunch time, but you still looked so gorgeous holding their hands and telling them not to hit each other. You'd be a perfect mother, in his mind.
Felix has never wanted to fill you so bad. Walking into the apartment after recording all day, he was met with the sight of you and your brother - your niece settled in your lap as she chewed on your fingers and drooled all over you while watching a cartoon. You'd barely noticed, talking to your brother and naturally adjusting your niece as you saw fit - but Felix couldn't help but notice just how much the baby looked like you. Yes, she was your niece, it was fair she shared some similarities, and he knew that -- but it plagued his mind with the idea of you having a baby of your own; your hair, your eyes, his soft skin tone and freckles. Yeah, he was definitely coming inside you tonight - and then plugging you up so he was sure it would take.
Seungmin wants a son, nuff said. He'd be happy with a daughter but he wants a little boy to play baseball with and teach how to pitch. And he's even further set on the idea of having a boy after witnessing you help a little boy up at the field; Seungmin had gone with Jeongin and Minho just for fun, a few other families there as well to play ball or sit in the stands and chat together. You'd helped up the little boy after he'd tripped over his feet, running but unsure of where to go even as his dad laughed and told him to keep running. You pointed to the base, cheering him on off to the side as he ran - and all three of the boys had to stop and watch. But Seungmin - oh. He needed to take a small break after that.
Minho is definitely set on having a family some day. One kid - maybe two. Maybe three... Hell, he'd give you as many as you wanted after seeing you cradling your newborn sister earlier that morning. He'd gone with to the hospital, even held the little girl (which you'd gotten the CUTEST photo wallpaper of) and rocked her until she fell back asleep. But you with the baby? Especially when she looked almost identical to you? He was weak in the knees, I say!! Weak in the knees !! As if his joints aren't bad enough already.
Changbin knows he wants a little girl in the future; a little princess to spoil and give the biggest room in the house and dress up with. But he really, really wants a daughter with you after you'd invited your friend over - her three year old coming along and toddling around the house all day. He was enamored with the little sweetheart from the moment he set his eyes on her, but he was even more in love with the idea of the two of you having your own family after that. As soon as your friend leaves, he wraps his arms around your waist tight from behind and whispers out about how he thinks maybe you two should work on starting a family soon. AKA in ten minutes.
#skz imagine#skz x reader#stray kids x reader#skz smut#felix x reader#bangchan x reader#stray kids smut#changbin x reader#seungmin x reader#Hyunjin x reader#Jeongin x reader#lee know x reader#bangchan smut#lee know smut#Changbin smut#Felix smut#Jisung smut#Hyunjin smut#Jeongin smut
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A Well-Kept Secret
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader
Synopsis: While working on a case in D.C., Spencer didn't expect to hear a familiar name being mentioned as the sole surviving witness. Or, in which the team discovers Spencer's well-kept secret.
Warning(s): established secret relationship, mentions and/or depictions of death/physical violence/gun violence/injury/attack, signs of trauma, survivor's guilt, curse words, hurt/comfort, nudity but it's not sexual, allusions to sexy times, mentions/implied alcohol consumption
Word Count: 5900-ish
Author's Note: hiya! I decided to write this lil piece after seeing the fic challenge posted by @imagining-in-the-margins abt the family/found family trope. I had a lotta fun writing this one and I think it's got potential to be something more. So pls comment or message me if you wanna see me exploring with this idea (either turning it into a series of connected one-shots or multi-parters). Don't forget to like/comment/reblog and give me a follow :) I hope you enjoy! 💞
Criminal Minds Masterlist
When Hotch had notified the team to haul their asses up and drove all the way to D.C., Spencer never expected that it would also entail him having to suffer through a mini heart attack.
The series of attacks around D.C. had been dominating the 6 PM news segments in the entire country. What was initially perceived as a suspected sequence of robberies gone wrong--since the first two targets to have been hit were a bank and a prestigious auction house--soon turned into a nationwide panic as people realized that there was a bigger game at play.
After the third attack was found to have occurred in the headquarters of one of the top, up-and-coming renewable energy startups in the states, the D.C. police finally started to entertain the idea that perhaps they hadn't been dealing with their usual petty robbers at all.
And naturally, that was when the BAU had been called in.
As soon as the team entered the Metropolitan PD bullpen, they were struck with the smell of panic and the sight of chaos.
"Agent Hotchner?" A middle-aged man in a gray shirt and blue tie appeared in front of them. "My name is Detective Mills, we spoke on the phone."
"Of course, Detective." Hotch shook the other man's hand. "This is my team. Agent Prentiss, Jareau, and Dr. Reid. I have two others already at the latest crime scene. What can you tell us so far?"
"As you can see--" Detective Mills gestured towards the frenzied scene behind him, "--the entire D.C. area is going haywire after news broke out about yesterday's attack. The public is demanding the city to be put on lockdown, and I'm getting pressure from above as well. We received information that nearly half the city has called in sick today."
"A classic response to mass paranoia," Spencer noted.
"Well, paranoia or not, I just want to start getting some answers." Detective Mills began to lead the team further into the bullpen. "I have every pair of hands I could spare in this. If they aren't out there chasing leads, they're here interviewing the victims, friends, and families."
"Any luck so far?" Emily asked.
"Nothing more than what you've probably seen in the files."
Detective Mills pushed open the door to an office in the corner, away from the havoc in the center of the station.
"Lieutenant Jeffreys retired a couple of weeks ago. The lucky bastard." Detective Mills scoffed jokingly. "It's the most decent space I can spare at the moment. Think you'll be fine in here?"
"It's more than enough, Detective. Thank you," Hotch replied.
"What about the witnesses from yesterday's attack? Have you had the chance to interview them?" JJ asked as the rest of the team started setting up.
"Some of my men are with them right now. But I doubt they'll have anything useful. Just like the other two cases, the attack happened while most of the office was out. The rest left behind were DOA at the latest scene."
"They're rapidly devolving," Spencer pondered out loud as he skimmed over the case files. "They went from killing a non-compliant security guard during the first attack to executing almost every witness in the last one."
JJ raised an eyebrow. "Almost?"
"It says here there is one survivor." Spencer showed the word he had underlined in the case overview to JJ.
"Yes, there is," Detective Mills confirmed. "I had one of my men talk to her. There's not much she could give us. Thing is, she wasn't even supposed to be there."
"What do you mean?" Emily asked.
"She didn't work in that office. She was a consultant who just happened to be visiting. Poor girl's pretty shaken up. She hid in a supply closet the entire time. She was the one who found the bodies and called 911."
"So, the perpetrators never checked the rooms while they were holding the victims hostage?" Hotch questioned.
"Not according to her statement, no. See, I thought it weird myself. Do you have any idea why?"
"Not sure." Hotch hummed, deep in thought. "Perhaps our UnSubs didn't think to check because they didn't know someone was in there. Detective, you said all of the victims were the only employees of the company who didn't attend the event downtown, correct?"
"Yeah, they were the only ones who weren't listed as attendees. Why? Do you think those people were specifically targeted?"
"Unfortunately, we can't rule out anything yet this early in the investigation," Hotch said. "We need to talk to the witnesses to know more. JJ?"
"On it." JJ nodded. "What can you tell us about yesterday's sole survivor, Detective?"
"Not much. I didn't interview her personally, one of my men did. She works at a consulting engineering firm in town," Detective Mills replied. "I believe her name is... what is it called?"
When Detective Mills mentioned the name, Spencer's heart instantly crashed inside of its cage.
"What?" His hand had stopped scribbling on the board. In a matter of miliseconds, Spencer had crossed the room towards the doorway where Detective Mills was standing. "What did you say her name was?"
Dumbfounded, the detective stared at a dread-stricken Spencer before spelling out the name once more.
"Why? What's wrong?" Detective Mills asked in confusion.
JJ touched Spencer's shoulder. "Hey, you okay?"
But Spencer, either too alarmed or merely choosing not to acknowledge both questions, asked instead, "Where is she? I need to see her."
"In the waiting room by the pantry--"
Spencer didn't even wait for Detective Mills to form his complete thought before dashing out. JJ exchanged a glance with Emily following Spencer's sudden exit, perplexed by his odd turn of behavior.
"I'll go get him," JJ announced before leaving the room, chasing after a flurry of wavy hair and a wool-knitted purple vest sprinting across the bullpen.
The roaring commotion inside the station was almost loud enough to rival the intensity of your racing thoughts.
Almost.
At this point, you didn't think there was anything you could do anymore. The vivid images from yesterday's attack were playing continuously in your head. There was nothing you could do to stop them.
Rubbing your eyes from exhaustion, you mourned the loss of sleep that you failed to get the previous night. As if the waking nightmares weren't torment enough, the images had somehow translated even more cruelly into your subconscious. You could barely close your eyes for three seconds without feeling like you had been brought back to that place.
Cold, cramped, and alone. Fearing for your life in the tiny supply closet that smelled more like death than bleach.
At the sound of the door opening, you quickly turned around in your seat to hide your face away from prying eyes. The last thing you needed at that moment was having a complete stranger seeing you fall apart in the middle of a police station.
But when the voice came carrying the sound of your name, it wasn't the voice of a complete stranger you had heard. It was a voice you knew more than you probably knew your own. A voice you loved and a voice you had longed to hear for the past gruesome twenty-four hours.
"Spencer?" You turned back towards the door, seeing the face you adored most in the whole world staring back at you.
"Sweetheart."
At the speed of a lightning, Spencer dropped to his knees in front of you and gathered your broken little pieces into his arms.
Spencer's touch was everywhere. Your hair, your neck, your shoulders. As if he was checking whether you were real. That you were actually there inside his arms, and you were not a simple imagination that his mind had conjured up.
Surrounded by the safety of his embrace, you could feel the shattered pieces of yourself beginning to mend once more.
"Spencer," you uttered his name again as you pulled away, still in disbelief that he was physically there with you.
"I'm here," he promised you as he cupped your face gently.
"Spencer, what are you... How..."
"My team is working your case. We arrived half an hour ago," he explained simply. "Sunshine, why didn't you tell me? I thought you were still in Alaska?"
You had previously apprised Spencer that you would be hard to reach during your trip since you would be spending most of your time at the power plant site where cellphone receptions were scarce. So when an entire day went by without him ever hearing from you, Spencer didn't have any reason to be worried.
Never in a million years would he have ever predicted that you'd be caught in the middle of a hostage situation.
That thought alone caused Spencer to squeeze your hand a little tighter than usual.
"I'm sorry, Spence," you said sincerely. "My trip ended earlier than planned. I arrived back yesterday morning. I actually wanted to surprise you last night. After yesterday's... incident, I wanted to call you, but my phone was shot--"
"Wait, what? You were shot?"
"No! No, baby. Not me. Just my phone," you assured him. "But that's why I couldn't call. I did attempt you once using this station's phone, but it went straight to voicemail."
At the new piece of information, the colors immediately drained from Spencer's face.
"That was you? Fuck. I didn't--I didn't know. I rejected the call because I didn't know it was you."
"Hey." You stopped his guilty rambling with a hand to his cheek. "It's okay. I'm okay. I'm just glad you're here."
And then, because Spencer needed to make sure that you really were okay, he pulled you back into his arms and held you even tighter this time.
"Uh, Spence?"
The sound in the doorway snapped you both out of your mutual reverie. You looked up to see a blonde woman there, staring in an equal mixture of shock and confusion at the sight in front of her.
Spencer begrudgingly untangled himself from your arms before getting up to approach her.
"JJ, do you mind if I do the cognitive for this one?" Spencer asked.
The woman--JJ-- shifted her eyes a few times between you and Spencer. "Um, of course. I'll just go and inform Hotch. Tell us if you need anything."
After JJ's departure, Spencer closed the door again to award you both a much needed privacy.
He grabbed a wooden chair from the corner and dragged it before sitting down right in front of you.
"I need to start the interview now, sweetheart. Think you're up for it?"
Your whole body went rigid for a matter of seconds before you forced it to restart again. It was gone as soon as it came, but Spencer noticed it just the same.
"Look at me," Spencer ordered softly, using his delicate finger to nudge your face up until he was looking straight into your eyes. "I know it's scary. I don't want you to have to relive yesterday either, but it will help us catch whoever did this."
"I've told the police everything I knew yesterday. I was hiding the entire time." Like a coward. "I didn't see anything. I don't have anything else that could help you."
"I know that, sunshine. But as I've told you before, our method is slightly different. We won't be just focusing on what you saw, but also what you smelled, or maybe even heard." Spencer took your hands then, squeezing affectionately. "I'll be here with you the entire time."
The nod you gave him was hesitant, but it was a start nonetheless. You listened intently to Spencer's words and closed your eyes just as he had instructed.
"We'll start at the beginning," you heard him say. "Why don't you tell me why you went there yesterday?"
"I, uh, received a call from my friend, Nick, after my plane landed. We had been communicating back and forth since his company seeked my consultation for one of their upcoming projects," you began. "I wasn't even supposed to work because I had requested the day off. But Nick said it didn't have to be a formal meeting, so I agreed to meet him."
"Tell me what you remember after arriving at the office."
Your mind traveled back to that specific time one day prior. You remembered walking into the place and seeing its unusual state of vacancy even though there was still a good half an hour left before lunchtime.
"I just assumed everyone had gone to lunch earlier and shrugged it off," you recalled.
Spencer nodded his head. "Did anything else strike you as out of the ordinary?"
"No? I don't... I don't know. It was only my second time being there, I'm not sure what was normal and what wasn't."
"Okay. That's okay. You're doing good so far, sweetheart," Spencer quickly interjected, trying to get you to calm down before your distress could turn into a full-blown panic. "Now, what did you do next?"
"I followed Nick into his office."
Nick was keeping his promise true. It hadn't felt like a formal meeting, just two old college buddies reminiscing about the past and discussing possibilities of the future that, of course, included the company's upcoming project which you would be working on with him.
"I excused myself to the bathroom at some point," you added. "When I first heard the commotion, I thought nothing of it. It's like the idea that a group full of armed men had taken over the building didn't even cross my mind. I mean, why would it? I was on my way back to Nick's office when I saw them."
You recalled turning a corner after exiting the bathroom only to see those figures carrying machine guns and shouting at everyone to get on their knees or put their hands above their heads. You remembered sprinting the way you had come from and opening the first door you could reach that just happened to be the supply closet.
"Let's go back to the moment you saw them," Spencer urged gently. "How many people were there? Do you remember any conspicuous detail? Maybe one of them had tattoos or spoke with an accent. Anything that distinguished them."
Taking a deep breath, you tried replaying those crucial seconds slowly in your head.
"There were four of them. I couldn't see much. They were all wearing identical black clothes."
Suddenly, an unexpected piece of memory rushed to the front of your mind. You opened your eyes in shock, meeting Spencer's curious gaze that had been kept intently on you the entire time.
"I think at least one of them is a woman," you told him.
Spencer's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Are you sure?"
"One of the guys said something about... fucking this place up. And then she laughed. I heard her. It was definitely a female laugh."
"Good. That's good."
"Yeah? Do you think it'll help?"
Spencer nodded assuredly, bringing his hand to leave calming strokes on your head. "I know it will. You've done a great job, sweetheart. I'm proud of you."
The praise Spencer gave eased the tension in your shoulders. As if having been granted fresh air after decades of confinement, you were finally able to let yourself breathe again.
Spencer continued his loving strokes on your head. Little by little, the weight of his touch melted the resolve you had built into a pathetic puddle on the floor. Without its mental shield protecting you, your tears sped forward, gathering in your eyes until they spilled on the vast path down your cheeks.
"Hey, hey." Spencer's voice was laden with panic after seeing you start to cry. "Sunshine, what is it? What's wrong? Talk to me."
"I-I just... God." You struggled to get the words out in between sobs. "I'm a coward, Spencer."
"What?"
"All of those people... They died because I was a fucking coward."
Your admission tore into the air before stabbing Spencer right through his chest.
"Sweetheart, you know that's not true."
"But it is!" you cried out, pulling away from Spencer's grounding hold around your shaking body in favor of your own arms. "I was a coward. I ran and hid because I was too scared to die. Too scared to fight. If I had just tried a little harder, I could've called for help. That way, maybe all of those people wouldn't... And Nick wouldn't..."
A haunting image flashed behind your eyes. The image of Nick's limp and lifeless body on the floor, among those of the others. You remembered crying next to him, punching his chest, body, and arm despite having seen the gunshot wound on his forehead. It took you another five minutes before you eventually managed to gather yourself together, found a phone, and dialed 911.
Not that it made any difference. They were all already dead.
Spencer could hear his heart breaking at the sight of you curling into yourself, recoiling from his touch because you somehow believed you didn't deserve his affection at that moment. If Spencer could just transfer all of your pain towards him, he would. Seeing you beat yourself up that way over something that happened and was done to you was the worst kind of torture he ever had to endure in life.
And Spencer had been through more kinds of torture than the general population in the world.
Deciding that he had seen enough of your self-deprecating torment, he reclaimed your hands inside of his palms and urged you to look at him.
"Are you hearing yourself right now?" Spencer asked incredulously. "How can you even think that way? Sweetheart, what happened to those people, to Nick, it is not your fault."
"B-but, if I hadn't run away--"
"Then you would've died, too," he cut you off. "Sunshine, there were four of them with machine guns. No one stood a single chance against them. Those people were there to kill. There was nothing you could've done."
It was a hard pill to swallow, but Spencer needed you to hear it.
He needed you to know the truth no matter how unacceptable it was.
"If you hadn't hid from them, we would've found seven bodies there instead of six. And I--" Spencer took a shuddering breath, "--I would've lost you."
Your shoulders deflated at his revelation. "Spence--"
"So please--" he searched your eyes then, using his thumb to sweep away the remaining tears under your eyes, "--stop holding yourself accountable. I promise I will do everything I can to find those people and make them pay for what they did."
Spencer's vow triggered a new wave of tears that compelled you to sink into his awaiting arms. He let you stay there until you had cried your tears dry. It was something he also secretly needed for himself after suffering through the short-lived horror over the mention of your name in relation to the heinous case. He just needed to make sure that you were okay.
A few minutes passed by with you in his arms. Eventually, Spencer had to tear himself away to finish his job. He asked you to wait as he wrapped up the transcript of your cognitive interview, along with his professional report over it.
"I need to run somewhere real quick. I promise to be back in a couple of hours," he notified JJ as he handed her the interview report. "Tell Hotch for me? Thanks."
Without waiting for his friend's reply, Spencer rushed back to the waiting room before leading you out to take you home.
Back at your apartment, Spencer guided you towards the direction of your bathroom as soon as you had stepped into the threshold.
"Are you trying to get me naked, Spencer?" you remarked playfully after he refused to let you take your clothes off yourself.
"Yes." The gleaming mischief in your eyes caused him to flick your nose lightly. "Just to get you ready for your bath. Get your head straight, will you?"
You scoffed at his back as he turned around to check the water temperature in the tub.
Once you were submerged safely inside, Spencer left the bathroom to give you some privacy. Meanwhile, he began rummaging through your drawers to pull out a change of clothes, a towel, and a clean sheet for your bed.
By the time you exited, Spencer had changed your bedsheets and lit one of your favorite candles on the bedside table. He asked you to sit down on the bed as he kneeled before you, helping you put on the pajamas he had picked out with little prints of sunflowers on them.
None of Spencer's touches were sexual. They swept over your skin with the care of an artist handling their most precious work. When his eyes found yours, you swore you could almost cry from the intense adoration that seemed to shine so brightly out of them.
As he guided you to lie on the bed, you were surprised to see him following suit. He got under the covers with you, pulling you close to tangle every inch of your limbs with his.
"I love you, Spencer," you admitted to his chest, heart heavy with the deep appreciation and overwhelming affection for the man beside you.
Spencer looked down at your confession, finding his favorite pair of eyes already looking earnestly at him. Instinctively, he reached for your chin with his fingers, tugging your face upward until he could capture your lips with his.
The kiss was slow. Careful. Filled with silent promises and discreet reassurances. When you both parted, Spencer didn't pull himself away. Instead, he let his forehead touch yours while his eyes stayed closed.
"Will you be here when I wake up?" you asked quietly.
"Yes, sweetheart. Now go to sleep."
Although the two of you knew his answer was a lie, you both chose to pretend otherwise. You knew Spencer still had responsibilities to fulfill, along with a promise to you that he intended to keep. You knew that when you woke up later that evening, Spencer would already be long gone, and you would be forced to bask in the traces of himself that he had left behind.
But for now, Spencer was still there, in the comfort of your bedroom, lying on the bed next to you. And that knowledge alone was good enough for you to finally drift further into the land of sleep, surrounded by the warmth of Spencer's loving embrace.
"I'm telling you," JJ insisted, looking at her entire team minus Spencer and Hotch. "There was definitely something going on between them. Why else would he request to take over the cognitive for me?"
"Maybe he was feeling generous," Rossi deadpanned, earning an unimpressed glare from JJ.
It had been a full week since the BAU team had arrived in D.C. to investigate the series of gun attacks in the city. Just the day prior, they had successfully made their fourth arrest, bringing this case to yet another satisfying conclusion in the eye of justice.
If nothing else was amiss, they should have been on their way back to Quantico in less than an hour. In the meantime, though, JJ felt obliged to gather her team members in the middle of the bullpen to share her suspicion about a certain scene she had accidentally caught on their first day working the case.
"Pretty boy did seem more emotionally involved in this case than he usually does, though," Derek pointed out.
"Right? Right?" JJ replied almost too enthusiastically. "Come on, aren't you guys at least half as curious as I am about who this mystery girl might be? Don't you wanna try finding out who she is while we're still here?"
They all stared at each other in hesitation.
"Or, we could just ask Spencer directly and let him explain?" Emily suggested, receiving incredulous looks from the other three in response. "Yeah, you're right. What did you say her name was again?"
"I don't remember," JJ answered.
"It must be listed in the files somewhere, right?" Derek immediately sprung into action, reaching towards the scattered case files that might contain the name they were looking for.
"Just to be clear, I am not taking any part in this." Rossi sighed.
"Got it!" Derek waved the offending file in hand, giving it to JJ, who instantly began skimming over it.
"Alright. Says here that her name is..."
JJ read the name aloud when unexpectedly, an answering sound sprouted from behind them.
"Yes?"
Every single one of them turned in shock at your voice. You smiled at their wide-eyed expressions, waving your hand a little awkwardly in the air.
"You!" JJ exclaimed.
"Me?"
Emily nudged JJ in the ribs, making the blonde woman wince.
"Y-you're the witness from the startup case, right?" JJ said, trying to rectify the situation.
"That's me."
"What can we do for you, Miss?" Rossi asked, stepping forward and away from the rest of the group.
"I'm actually looking for Spencer. Do you know where he might be?"
"Spencer Reid? You know Reid?" Emily asked.
Before you had the chance to reply, the man in question came strolling into the bullpen, rambling animatedly to Hotch who was walking beside him. The moment Spencer caught sight of you, though, he immediately abandoned Hotch's side and rushed towards where you were standing.
"Hey, what are you doing here?"
"Looking for you, of course," you told him, fitting yourself easily into Spencer's side as his arm went around your waist. "Hi, Hotch."
The older man called your name in greeting. "I got your message. You wanted to talk to me?"
"I wanted to ask you--well, all of you, actually--" you glanced around at the other team members, "--if maybe you all would let me treat you to lunch? As a thank you for your hard work on the case."
Hotch nodded in response. "It's fine with me. We don't have to be back until tonight, anyway. Everyone?"
Instead of replying to your offer, Emily voiced aloud the question that was circling everyone's mind.
"You know her?" Emily looked at Hotch before dragging her eyes away towards you. "And you know him? You know each other? How?"
You gazed up at Spencer's eyes, seeing them shining with the same mirth as the one you felt dancing in your stomach.
"I guess this is supposed to be the part where I introduce myself, isn't it?" You chuckled.
Extending your palm, you shook each of their hands while telling them your name, them responding back with theirs even though you already knew who was who long before you had even met them.
"I still don't understand," JJ admitted after you finished shaking her hand. "How did you know Spencer and Hotch?"
Once again, you looked into Spencer's eyes, a question bouncing around in yours. Spencer's nod of affirmation was the only go-ahead you needed.
It's time.
"I'm Spencer's girlfriend."
"She's my wife."
You turned your head towards Spencer in shock.
In front of you, Spencer's teammates were causing an uproar.
"Wait, what?" Emily stared dumbfoundedly.
"You have a girlfriend?" Derek asked in disbelief.
"You're married?!" JJ shrieked.
"Hold on a second," Rossi interjected, holding his palms out as if to tell everyone to stand down and calm themselves. "So which one is it? Girlfriend or wife?"
And that was how you found yourself sitting in the private VIP room of your favorite restaurant in the city with some of Spencer's closest people on earth.
"That's the craziest story I've ever heard," Emily pondered in astonishment.
Rossi, Derek, and JJ were all wearing an identical look on each of their faces after hearing the story of how you and Spencer met: by drunkenly getting married in Vegas after only knowing each other for barely one night when you both weren't even twenty-two yet.
"If someone were to tell me yesterday that there's another member of this team who also went to get married while drunk in Vegas, I would have never even thought of mentioning Spencer's name," JJ mused.
At your curious expression, Spencer explained, "Rossi also got drunkenly married in Vegas to his third ex-wife,"
"Why didn't you two get a divorce?" Emily suddenly asked.
It was something that everyone who knew about your situation with Spencer had questioned at one point or another. The real answer was because you and Spencer had both been reluctant to go through the nasty and lengthy legal process of getting a divorce. Therefore, you decided to part ways without doing anything about it, vowing to only track each other down if one of you ever needed to end the bond because of another impending marriage or any other urgent matter.
But that reason alone was usually not enough to appease people's curiosity. And over the years, you and Spencer had poked fun over that particular fact by coming up with the most outrageous lie you could muster up.
"She wanted to get a divorce," Spencer fabricated smoothly. "I persuaded her otherwise because I had this inkling that someday we were gonna fall in love."
Usually, any other people would coo sweetly at Spencer's statememt.
But these weren't any other people. These people were Spencer's family in more ways except flesh and blood, and even without their profiling skills, you knew they could see right through Spencer's little deception.
"That sounds like bullshit to me. Doesn't that sound like bullshit to you?" Emily asked, turning to JJ for support.
"Yeah, that was bullshit, alright," JJ claimed vehemently, prompting an innocent-looking grin from Spencer and a series of chuckles from everyone else.
"When did you two start dating, then?" Rossi spoke up from one end of the table.
"About two years after Vegas, right?" you estimated, to which Spencer nodded in confirmation. "He strolled into my place of work while he was on a case, and then he asked me out."
Derek sat up on his seat after hearing the new information. "Wait, when was this? Why didn't I know about this?"
"The beginning of my second year in the BAU," Spencer offered. "Elle knew."
"Elle? Elle Greenway? You told Elle but not me?" Derek looked offended.
Spender shrugged nonchalantly. "Elle was assigned with me that day."
"Unbelievable." Derek slumped back down in his chair. "Penelope is gonna freak when she finds out what she missed today."
"Penelope? Oh, she already knows," you told him.
That revelation earned a collective disbelief look across the entire table.
"Yeah... I, uh," you cleared your throat, "I actually just went shopping with her two weeks ago."
"You've got to be kidding me," Emily muttered.
"You told Penelope but not me?" Derek sounded hurt as he pointed his accusatory stare at Spencer. "You even told Hotch!"
"I didn't tell Garcia. She dug through my history and found it out herself. Had to bribe her with candies and chocolates for a whole month to keep her quiet," Spencer grumbled. "And I had to tell Hotch. We needed to add her number to my emergency contact list."
Despite Spencer's concise explanation, Derek still seemed unsatisfied by the whole ordeal.
"How long have you known?" he finally decided to ask Hotch.
"A while," the man answered from his seat at the opposite end of the table from Rossi. "They even babysat Jack a few times for me."
"I don't believe this," Derek scowled. "Pretty boy's got himself a girl for the last six years, and I never knew? Outrageous."
"Technically, we've been married even longer than that," Spencer responded, as if he was unaware of the imminent glower that Derek was sending his way. "Eight years since Vegas."
"That's longer than any of my marriage," Rossi remarked before sipping his drink.
The laugh that resonated upon Rossi's little comment elicited an affectionate smile on your lips.
"So, you live in D.C., then?" JJ asked, at last stirring the conversation away from the topic of your and Spencer's secret marriage-slash-relationship.
"I do, yeah. But most of the time, I live out of my suitcase," you answered. "My firm has clients all over the country. A few overseas, as well. I'm lucky if I even get to have an entire week to sleep uninterrupted in my own bed."
Even then, you truthfully quite enjoyed the work you had to do. You didn't mind having to travel some place new every other week. In fact, you somehow believed that your constant need to travel for your job, and Spencer for his, was one of the reasons why the two of you worked so well together.
Although people might think that two adults who had to travel for a living were a recipe for a disastrous relationship, you and Spencer had so far proven otherwise. Because of your respective schedules, you could sympathize more with the other anytime they had to go somewhere urgent for work. It only made you savor every single second you spent together because of how much precious each one of them became.
The rest of lunch unraveled with the same bucket of smiles, jokes, and laughter. It felt good to finally tell the few people who meant the world in Spencer's life the truth about your relationship. It was also a huge relief to see them opening their arms and welcoming you into the family without an ounce of hesitation.
"Hotch?" Spencer called out after everyone exited the restaurant. "Will it be okay if I stay in the city for one more night?"
"As long as you promise to be back for tomorrow's briefing," Hotch reminded sternly, but the meaningful look he passed over you before he entered his vehicle spoke of a thousand things left unsaid.
"It was so nice meeting you," JJ said as she took you in her arms. "And I'm sorry again about your friend."
"Thank you. And thanks for all of your hard work in catching those guys."
"Of course, it's what we do." JJ smiled as she pulled away. "Invite me and Emily the next time you and Penelope hang out, okay?"
"Will do," you promised.
You watched as every single one of them scrambled into the two black SUVs, waving your goodbye until the cars drove out of your sight.
"I think that went well," you commented before looking up at Spencer. "Do you?"
"I think it went as well as it could."
"So--" you began, circling your arms around Spencer's neck, "--we have more than twelve hours until you're expected back at Quantico. What do you wanna do?"
Spencer nudged your nose with his. "I can think of a few activities we can partake in."
"Really?"
"Really."
Just as he was a hairbreadth away from pressing his lips to yours, you suddenly tore yourself out of Spencer's arms.
"Like getting some frozen yogurts?" you asked giddily, smirking at the dumbfounded look that you managed to put on Spencer's face.
"Fine. Let's go get some frozen yogurts."
Spencer had to hide his amused grin at your elated squeals. He was more than content at that moment to let you produce those addictive sounds at the mere prospect of frozen yogurts.
But later that night, he had a whole different set of activities lined up to pull those same sounds out of you once more.
And it might or might not potentially involve an entirely different yet creative use of frozen yogurts as well.
Spencer simply just hadn't decided yet.
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i'll be home for christmas | part one
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: Having just caught your fiancé cheating on you, you decide to come back home from the big city to Austin for the month of December to try to figure out your next step. You had no idea you would be getting more than you bargained for with the handsome single dad who built your parents' house.
Chapter Warnings: no outbreak, modern day but Joel is 40, language, fluff, flirting, reader has a childhood nickname only her family uses, Hallmark tropes up the wazoo, soft!joel, reader's sister is pregnant, talks of infidelity, talks of divorce, alcohol use, kissing, (smut in part two)
WC: 9.1K
A/N: this is my take on a cheesy, fluffy, soft, smutty, Joel Miller Hallmark Christmas movie. It's just sweet and silly and makes me smile, and I hope it does the same for you. I also wrote this in less than 2 days and didn't really edit it much, so sorry in advance if there's any errors.
Found the pic on Twitter but can't remember the source, if you know please send me a message and i will credit them
Series Masterlist
It was the second week of December as you stood inside the airport in Austin, Texas, waiting for your luggage to emerge on the conveyor belt. You thought by coming home early, you would have avoided the holiday traffic, but you were wrong. All around you, people squealed with excitement and embraced, dragging their worn out luggage behind them as they made their way out of the bustling airport. You tried to keep the scowl from your face as you watched, but it was next to impossible, so you wrapped your Burberry scarf around your neck instead, hoping to hide your displeasure.
This was not the plan you had for Christmas. You should be in New York in a high-rise apartment in front of a roaring fireplace with a glass of wine and your fiancé - ex-fiancé - not back in Austin with your parents, who begged you to come visit for the holidays after you told them the news.
Coming home to visit wasn't your favorite thing, but you felt guilty having avoided the holidays with your family for so many years, and you would have ended up all alone in the city anyway. So you caved, using up all the PTO you saved for the wedding, and took the rest of the year off from work.
Your designer luggage stood out like a sore thumb when it tumbled down the conveyor belt. You winced after watching the impact and snatched it up quickly. Glancing around, you saw a beacon in the storm: a familiar green, glowing sign in the distance - Starbucks. The line was long, but your flight was early, so you waited and got a latte, hoping it would lift your spirits a bit before you had to face your parents.
You tapped the side of your coffee cup anxiously as you rode the escalator down to the first floor, scanning the crowd for your mom and dad. There were a few people holding up signs with names on them, and when you saw the sign that said "Bucket" on it, you cringed.
Your dad's tall, round frame came into view when the people in front of him dispersed. He looked almost exactly the same, except a little greyer. Still sporting a shockingly full head of hair and his signature thick mustache, he grinned and pulled you into a warm hug.
"Really, Dad? 'Bucket'?"
"Well, that's what we call you, ain't it?" he said with a smile. You rolled your eyes and tried to be annoyed, but you had to admit that you were happy to see him.
"Where's Mom?" you asked.
"She's waitin' in the car, didn't wanna pay for parking so we're in a pick up zone, let's hustle," he said, wrapping his arm around you as he led you outside. "How was the flight?"
"Long," you said, then gasped when the cold air hit you. "Wow, I didn't think it would be this cold yet."
"It's been a cold one so far this year," he nodded, directing you to the left where you could see your mom smiling and waving from the passenger seat of their white SUV. You waved back and grinned. Maybe coming home wasn't such a bad idea, after all.
"Hiya, Bucky!" your mom said happily, leaning out of the window to give you a half hug while your dad loaded up your belongings in the back.
"Hey, Mom," you replied. "I like your sweater."
She was wearing one of her tacky Christmas sweaters that she wore every year - unironically. It amazed you how some things never change.
You climbed into the back seat as your dad carefully exited the parking spot and joined the line of cars that were slowly inching towards the main road.
"We're so glad you decided to come home this year, you can finally see the new house!" your mom said excitedly. They had built a brand new house, and the way she provided updates and pictures to you over the phone for the past year, you felt like you had already seen it.
"Yeah, can't wait," you said, staring out the window.
"Hope you don't mind, but we're throwin' a party tomorrow night," your dad said, glancing at you in the review mirror. "Wanted to have our friends over to see the place and have an early holiday party. They'll be so happy to see you, it's been so long since you've been home, Buck."
You had been hoping to spend most of the next three weeks in bed moping and scrolling on your phone. The thought of a party and seeing all those people looking at you with pity made your stomach turn. Your mom must have sensed your discomfort.
"It's alright, honey. They won't say anything," she said softly, and you squeezed your eyes shut.
"Okay," you replied, your voice pained as you opened your eyes to stare at the passing traffic on the thruway.
You'll make an appearance for an hour, and then try to sneak back upstairs until the party ends, already fabricating a headache to blame it on.
The house your parents built was impressive, even you had to admit. It was a two story colonial with four bedrooms and three bathrooms. The open floor plan was stunning as you made your way from room to room. The first floor alone had a spacious living room with vaulted ceilings, a kitchen with an attached dining room, and a separate family room off the back. There was even a small office by the front door that you missed the first time around, and a pantry as big as your closet back home.
You cringed at the thought, reminding yourself that it was no longer your home. That was part of the problem. You had moved in with Will, and when you discovered he had been cheating on you, you crashed at your friend Melanie's place. When you tearfully told your parents the news a few days later, they asked you to come home. Just for the holidays, your mom had said. Just to give you time to figure out your next move.
"This is beautiful, Mom," you said honestly, admiring the fine details on the cabinets.
"Thank you, sweetie. Took a long time, but Joel built it just right for us," she said, beaming.
"Oh, the contractor, right?" you replied, distracted now by the backsplash above the counters.
"He's such a sweet man, he was so patient with us when we changed our minds a million times over every little thing."
"Well, tell him he did a great job," you murmured, opening and shutting different drawers.
"You can tell him yourself, he'll be at the party tomorrow," your dad said, opening the fridge to scrounge for some snacks.
"You invited your contractor to your holiday party?" you asked in disbelief.
"Sure we did. We either saw him or spoke to him almost every single day for a year. He's a good man."
"Okay," you said slowly, still finding it a bit strange, but reminding yourself that things worked a little differently in the south.
"Bucket!" you heard your sister call from the front of the house. A smile plastered across your face instantly as you rushed to the door, both of you squealing as you wrapped your arms around each other and jumped in a circle, unable to contain your excitement.
"Cassie!" you said, pulling back to look at her, brushing her sleek, dark brown hair over her shoulder. "You look fantastic!"
"Ugh, I feel like shit," she said, and you laughed, glancing down at her barely swollen belly.
"How far along are you again?" you asked.
"Twenty weeks, but I'm ready for this to be over! I'm so tired all the time, it sucks," she said, flopping down on the couch in the living room after she gave your parents quick hugs.
"Where's Josh?" your mom asked, referring to your brother in law.
"He's still working, he'll be by later," Cassie said, waving her hand. "Gives us a chance to catch up," she added with a wink.
"You girls do that, we need to go to the store for tomorrow night. Do you need anything?" your mom asked, and you shook your head, eager for them to leave so you could be alone with your sister.
"Tell me everything," Cassie said the moment the door clicked shut.
If it were anyone else, you wouldn't have been in the mood to talk about the mess that was currently your life, but you've always been able to talk about anything with your sister. You trusted each other implicitly and there was no judgement, no matter if you had cheated on a test or gotten drunk during prom, you told each other everything.
So you did. You told her how for months, you felt like something was off with Will. How he would stay out late and say it was for work, but none of his work friends ever posted about going anywhere those nights on social media. He grew more distant and you tried to ignore your paranoia, but when he collapsed into bed one night, too out of it to wash up, and you saw the lipstick on his neck the next morning, you lost it. He hardly even tried to explain himself, barely even attempted to lie, and you began to think maybe he wanted to get caught. Maybe he wanted you to do the dirty work and end things so he didn't have to. Fucking coward.
"What a piece of shit. I never liked him," Cassie said when you were finished. "He acted like he was so much better than everyone when he was here, do you remember the comments he made about the wine mom had? It was so fucking rude."
"Yeah, I know," you agreed.
"So why were you even with him?"
"We had been together since college, Cas," you said, exasperated. "I knew him before he was like that. He used to be sweet and fun. Then he got that finance job and met all those assholes and he became just like them."
"Well, I'm just glad you didn't end up married before finding out what he's really like," she said, shifting her weight on the couch with her hand cupping her small stomach. "That would have been a huge mess."
"It's still a huge mess, I have no where to live now, and I can only couch surf for so long," you said, burying your face in your hands.
"You'll figure it out, Buck. I'll help you look for places online while you're here. Maybe set up some appointments so you can tour them when you get back."
"Thanks," you said, giving her a weak smile. "That would actually be great."
"Now, on to more important things," your sister said, slapping her palms against her knees to stand.
"Baby names?" you asked.
"No! Let's figure out what you'll wear to the party tomorrow," she said, wiggling her eyebrows. "I wanna look through all your fancy designer clothes."
You giggled and stood to join her.
"Fine, but I'm still dropping baby names while you look," you replied.
After spending a majority of the next day helping your parents decorate and prepare food for the party, you finally were able to excuse yourself to shower and get ready. Cassie had picked out a Ralph Lauren lace cocktail dress that Will had bought for your birthday last year. You slipped it on, running your hands over the fabric as you adjusted the dress in the mirror. Just because he bought it didn't mean you couldn't wear it again. You snatched the glass of wine from your dresser and took a sip, trying to push the thought of him from your head as you made your way downstairs.
Cassie and Josh were already in the kitchen, munching on appetizers and chatting with your parents. Cassie let out a low whistle when you entered the room. You waved her off and gave Josh a big hug and kiss on the cheek.
"Good to see you," you told him with a smile. "All ready for the baby?"
"Getting there," Josh replied, wrapping an arm around Cassie's waist. You tried to ignore the ugly, jealous pit in your stomach as he told you how the nursery was coming along. You wasted so many years of your life on Will. Your sister was already married and starting a family, and here you were, basically homeless and starting over. Pathetic.
Family friends slowly began to trickle into the house, luckily being whisked away by your parents to give them a tour after you meekly greeted them and hid back in the kitchen. As more and more people arrived, you began to wonder how your parents kept so many close friends when you barely had a handful back in New York.
A few kids raced by you in the kitchen as you made your way to the bar to refill your wine. Even though it was loud, you could still hear your dad's booming voice as he regaled a friend with a fishing story. You wandered around a bit, trying to find Cassie and Josh so you didn't look out of place, but stopped dead in your tracks when you saw them chatting with Mr. Tanner and his son, Troy, backing away before they could see you. Troy used to have the biggest crush on you when you were kids. If he found out you were single, you wouldn't be able to shake him all night.
You eventually found yourself alone, back in front of the snacks. You picked at the chips on your plate, not really interested in eating but hoping to avoid any awkward conversations, so you kept your eyes down, scrolling mindlessly on your phone. Apparently, it wasn't good enough because you felt someone sidle up next to you.
"Those any good?" a deep, unfamiliar drawl spoke from your side. You looked up to find the softest pair of brown eyes you've ever seen on a man. Blinking, you took a moment as your gaze raked over his patchy beard and the dark, tousled curls on his head. They looked so soft, you had to resist the urge to reach out and touch them. What was wrong with you?
"Huh?" you managed to squeak out after you realized you had waited too long to reply. Idiot.
"The, uh, chips," he said, pointing at your plate before rubbing the back of his neck.
"Oh!" you said, looking at your plate, completely forgetting you even had it. "Yeah, they're alright."
He nodded and glanced around the room, unsure of what to say next. He cleared his throat and tried again.
"How do you know Paul and Martha?"
Distracted, you watched as he crossed his arms over his broad chest, stretching the fabric of his red flannel over his shoulders, pulling the material taught. You had to remind yourself to pay attention and stop gawking at this man like he was a piece of meat. Jesus, maybe you should stop drinking.
"They're my parents," you said after a moment, your eyes flicking across the room, finding them with a group of their friends with your dad's arm wrapped around your mom's shoulder as she giggled and gazed up at him adoringly.
"Oh, you're Cassie," the man said, his eyes dropping from your face to your stomach, and you swore you saw a glimmer of disappointment.
"No!" you said quickly, your hand subconsciously resting on your midsection. "That's my sister, I'm their other daughter." You told him your name and briefly explained you lived in New York and were just visiting for the holidays.
"They must be real happy, havin' you home for so long," he replied, and you shrugged.
"Yeah, it's been a while since I've come home for a visit. I was feeling pretty bad about that," you said, choosing to leave out the biggest reason you were there. This stranger didn't need to be burdened with your love life drama. "Besides, they were so excited to show off the new house," you continued, waving your arm around the room.
"Took us long enough, but it finally came together," he replied with a smile.
"Oh! You must be Joel," you said, realization finally dawning on you.
"Yeah, sorry," he said, shaking his head and stretching out his arm. "That was rude of me, don't know what I was thinkin'." His cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you shook his hand.
"My parents always have such wonderful things to say about you. The house is beautiful, I was blown away when I first saw it," you told him. "I especially love the little details on the cabinets."
"Thanks," he said with a soft smile, averting his gaze to look at the cabinet behind you. "I actually did that myself. It's kind of a hobby of mine. Closest to art I'll ever get, I guess."
"I don't think it's just 'close' to art, I think it is art. It's stunning," you told him, running your fingertips over the intricate floral design. "You're very talented."
"Well, thank you," he said sheepishly, rubbing his beard to hide his smile. You could see the blush creeping up his neck and you bit your lip with a grin, turning your head to try to give him a moment. Were you making him nervous? He was painfully good looking, could this guy actually be into you? Were you even interested? The break up was still so fresh and it had been so long since you've dated anyone besides Will, you hadn't even considered it yet.
"So, how long have you worked in construction?" you asked after a minute, discarding your plate on the counter to give him your full attention.
"Oh, my whole life. Me and my brother started the business when we were in our twenties. Only thing we were any good at, and luckily it pays the bills," he told you with a shrug, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. "What do you-"
Joel's question was cut off by a young girl with curly brown hair in a red velvet dress bouncing up to him.
"Dad! Can Uncle Tommy take me outside so we can look at the pool?" she asked. Dad? You looked down when he pulled his hands out of his pockets, palming one of the girl's shoulders to quiet her down, and noticed the gold wedding band. Of fucking course.
"The pool? Sarah, it's freezin' out," Joel said, and she grinned.
"I'm not going in, Dad, I just wanna see," she said, rolling her eyes. She glanced over, noticing you for the first time, and smiled. "I really like your dress," she said.
"Thank you," you said, running your hand down the fabric. "I like yours, too."
"Uh, yeah, that's fine. Just make sure Uncle Tommy sticks with you, alright?" Joel relented, and she clapped her hands gleefully before running off again.
"She's cute, how old is she?" you asked him, looking around the room to see if Sarah had run back to a woman who could be Joel's wife.
"She's sixteen," he said, eyeing you carefully. He hadn't thought this far ahead and hoped he wasn't scaring you off.
You turned to him, startled, having guessed she was younger.
"You must have had her young," you said, the words slipping out before you could catch them. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean that like it sounded-"
"No, it's alright," he said with a chuckle. "I did. I'm forty."
You nodded and took a sip from your glass, letting your eyes drift away, rethinking your conversation. Maybe you misread him and he was just being friendly. There was no way he would be flirting with you at a party with his kid right there. But then he cleared his throat, drawing your attention back to him.
"Listen, I hope I'm not bein' too forward, but are you here with anyone?"
You raised your eyebrows at him over your glass. There was no misreading that. Blinking rapidly, you tried to formulate a reply that wouldn't cause a scene. Was he seriously hitting on you with a ring on his finger? You put your glass down on the counter and opened your mouth to reply when your sister's voice interrupted you.
"Bucket! Come here, you remember Troy, right?"
You cringed, at both the nickname and the person in question, before slowly turning your body towards her and forcing a fake smile.
"Of course. How are you?" you said with a hug.
"Doing great, just got a new job with a law firm downtown," Troy said, rubbing his sweaty palms on his jeans and shifting his weight nervously. He began to ramble about his new job as your sister introduced herself to Joel behind you. You resisted the urge to strangle her, reminding yourself she was carrying your baby niece or nephew and that you'll have to wait until after she gave birth to kill her. She knew you couldn't stand Troy, but she probably couldn't get rid of him, either.
You stood there, draining your wine glass while he prattled on for the next twenty minutes. By the time Troy's dad walked over and ushered him away, Joel was nowhere to be found.
Probably for the best, anyway. You were getting really sick and tired of only attracting unfaithful men.
You hadn't considered how annoying it would be to have your parents hovering around you all the time, worried that you were slipping into a depression and trying to get you to join them on activities outside the house. After you felt forced to go sledding with them the day before, you decided to make yourself scarce today, which is why you found yourself at the mall in downtown Austin browsing for a Christmas gift for your future niece or nephew.
As you were looking through a storefront window, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. Taking it out, you saw a text from a friend back home.
Sydney: You'll never guess who i just bumped into
You were typing out your response, chin tucked into your chest, when you felt someone knock into you. Startled, you looked up only to lock eyes with Joel the contractor.
"Oh!" you managed to stammer out. His deep brown eyes lit up and a warm smile spread across his face when he looked up and recognized you.
"Sorry, wasn't payin' attention," he said. "How, uh, how are you?"
"Good," you said, nodding and clutching your phone in your hand. "You?"
"Good. Was actually just thinkin' about you," he admitted, looking down and shifting the bag he was carrying from one hand to the other. "Never got to say goodbye to you the other night."
"Yeah, it was pretty crowded. I didn't realize my parents were so popular," you joked. "Is Sarah with you?"
"No, she's in school," he replied, and you bumped the heel of your hand against your forehead, rolling your eyes. Of course she was, it's the middle of the day.
"Duh," you said quietly, finding it hard to hold his gaze without getting butterflies, so you looked away.
"So, uh, I hope this doesn't sound creepy, but I asked your sister if you were seein' anyone the other night," he began, and you felt your face instantly heat up. Why didn't Cassie warn you?? "-was wonderin' if I could get your number."
"Huh?" you asked, your eyes widening as you tried to control your breathing. You glanced down at his hand again when he looked away and saw he was definitely wearing a ring.
"Thought we could go out sometime? If you're interested?" he asked, his own nerves wreaking havoc as he shifted his weight and chewed on the inside of his cheek, praying his face wasn't as red as it felt.
"Are you serious?" you asked him, narrowing your eyes. The audacity of some men!
"'Course I'm serious," he said with a nervous smile. "Thought we hit it off the other night-"
"Joel, listen. I'm not going to say what I'm really thinking for the sake of my parents and everything you did for them, but I am not interested in dating married men," you said with a scowl. He frowned, giving you a confused look before you turned on your heel and stormed away, joining the crowd of Christmas shoppers bustling by.
He looked down at his hand, making a tight fist before swiveling his head around, trying to locate you in the crowd before he lost you.
"Hey, wait!" he called out, pushing past clusters of people as he jogged to try and keep up with you. He called out your name as he got closer. You stopped suddenly but didn't turn around, causing surprised shoppers to have to redirect at the last minute to avoid running into you.
"Hey, I'm sorry-"
"You should apologize to your wife!" you said loudly, causing a few people to turn their heads in your direction as they walked past. Joel looked around nervously.
"I'm not married," he clarified quietly. You looked down at his hand again and he flexed his fingers.
"Can we get a coffee or somethin'? And I'll explain," he begged, his chest rising and falling rapidly with each second that passed as you considered your answer. "Please."
"Fine," you agreed, and his face relaxed once again.
You sat down at a coffee shop within Barnes and Noble as Joel ordered you both something to drink. As you watched him at the counter, you admired his long legs and broad shoulders underneath his brown coat and wondered what possible excuse he was going to come up with.
Oh my god, what if she died?
You rubbed your eyes, hoping you didn't just insult a widower in the middle of a crowded mall.
Joel joined you at the table and set your coffee down in front of you with a smile.
"Thank you," you said softly, fiddling with the cup and avoiding his eyes as he shrugged his coat off, revealing a navy blue V-neck sweater underneath. Your eyes drifted to the small patch of bare chest that was exposed and your stomach clenched. Swallowing hard, you forced yourself to meet his gaze, but he was staring down at his ring finger.
"I'm not married anymore, just wanna make that crystal clear," he began, still staring at his ring.
"Okay," you said slowly, waiting for him to continue. He sighed.
"We've been divorced for a few years now," he said, finally looking at you. "It was... hard. Really hard. I, uh," he scratched his beard as he struggled to find the words. "I've had a tough time lettin' go. Thought for a while we might get back together, so I didn't take it off. Then I guess I just got so used to it, I never thought... I'm sorry, I sound like a mess," he said with a sad smile.
"It's alright, I think I understand," you told him, and he looked at you with renewed optimism, encouraged to continue.
"I never took it off because I never thought 'bout askin' anyone out til now," he said. "Didn't realize how that would come across, you just took me by surprise that night and I couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout you."
You blushed and looked down at your coffee, trying to hide your smile behind your cup, but he saw it and grinned.
"Are you still in love with her?" you asked him. You didn't want to get wrapped up in something that would end up hurting you in the end.
"No," he said firmly. "I mean, I'll always care for her. She gave me Sarah, how could I not? But I'm not in love with her anymore."
You nodded as you absorbed his words, glancing around the little coffee shop before dragging your eyes back to his. He was looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to ask anything else that would make you comfortable with accepting a date from him.
"Well, thank you for being honest with me, but I'm not sure I'm ready for a relationship just yet."
Joel tried to hide the disappointment in his face as he nodded in understanding. The first time in five years he asked someone out and he got shot down.
"It's not you," you clarified. "It's bad timing. I just got out of a really long term relationship. Well, I was actually engaged, and I caught him cheating," you explained with a wince, not expecting to bring this up today. "Probably why I was so sensitive about the wedding ring," you said with a half smirk. He nodded quietly and looked down at the ring on his hand, twisting the metal around with the pad of his thumb as you spoke.
"Sounds like we've both been through a tough time," he murmured, and you quietly agreed.
You sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping your coffees and trying to figure out how to end this awkward interaction without making things worse. You were going to lie about having plans so you could leave when he suddenly spoke up.
"No pressure, but, uh, what if we just went on one very casual date?" He looked at you with those soft, brown eyes and you felt your resolve crumbling. "Sounds like we could both use some practice. You're leavin' at the end of the month anyway. Could just be fun, help get us both back out there."
You paused, not expecting that. He had a good point. It's been so long since you've gone on a date with anyone, and it sounded like he was just as rusty. Besides, what else would you be doing with your time over the next three weeks?
"Okay," you agreed softly. He raised his eyebrows in surprise, parting his lips slightly as he straightened up in his chair.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," you said with a grin. "Why not?"
Early the next morning, you heard your phone buzz on the nightstand next to your bed. With a groan, you cracked an eye open to look at the time, then reached for your phone.
"7:30? Who the hell..." you grumbled, squinting at the bright screen, your eyes widening when you saw Joel's name. You sat up in bed, fully awake now, and slid the notification over to open the text.
Joel Miller: Morning. Are you free tonight?
You grinned, flicking on your light so you could see better to respond, then you paused. Should you make him wait before replying? Would you look too desperate if you answered right away?
You shrugged, deciding to answer him. It was casual, you both knew it wouldn't go anywhere, so who cares how it looked?
You: Good morning, you're up early! And yes, what did you have in mind?
You chewed your thumb nail as you waited for his answer.
Joel Miller: This is nothing, I've been up since 5. For some reason, clients expect me to be at job sites early. How about ice skating?
You giggled and tapped out a reply.
You: I'd love to!
Joel Miller: Great - I'll pick you up at 7
Realizing you forgot to reply to Sydney the day before, you switched messages and shot her a quick answer before sliding back down under the covers to scroll on your phone.
You resisted the urge as long as you could - a whole fifteen minutes - before you typed Joel's name into Facebook. His name popped up with two mutual friends and you rolled your eyes. Of course your parents were friends with him. Clicking on his name, you scrolled down his page, tapping through photos of him and Sarah that looked out of date. He didn't seem like the type to update social media often, and his page reflected that hunch. He didn't have many pictures so it didn't take long until you scrolled all the way to the end, presumably his first photo from when he joined. It was a grainy picture of him with a huge smile and his arm slung around a woman with dark, curly hair, just like Sarah's.
She was pretty, you couldn't deny that, and you vaguely wondered why they broke up. He made it sound like he didn't want a divorce, and you figured he would have mentioned cheating since you brought it up.
You closed the app. If Joel wanted to tell you, he would.
Dragging yourself out of bed, you made your way downstairs on the hunt for coffee. Pouring yourself a cup from the machine, you burrowed into the couch, wrapping yourself in a blanket as you waited for your coffee to cool down and flipped through the various streaming services your parents subscribed to.
"Hey Buck, you're up early," your dad said as he descended the stairs and headed to the coffee.
"Hey, Dad," you said, taking a sip from your mug and wincing as you burned your tongue.
"What're you up to today? You wanna come to dinner with your mom and me?"
"Actually, I have a date," you told him, bracing for the reaction.
"Whoa-ho! Been here not even a week and you got yourself a date? Don't tell me... Troy?" he asked with a big grin, sitting down at the other end of the couch.
"Ew, no!" you said, scrunching your nose. "It's, um, Joel," you said quickly, taking another sip from your mug.
"Our contractor?" he asked incredulously.
"Yeah, we met at the party," you told him. "Then I ran into him at the mall."
"Ran into who at the mall?" you heard Cassie's voice from down the hall.
"When did you get here?" you asked as she rounded the corner and gazed at your coffee enviously.
"Just now. Who did you see at the mall?"
"Joel," you said, glaring at her. "Got something to tell me about that?"
"Oh, yeah," she said, wiggling her eyebrows. "He was asking about you at the party. I made sure to let him know you were single."
"Yeah, he told me, thanks for the heads up, by the way," you said. "We're going out tonight."
"I didn't realize he was single, I just assumed he was married because he's always got Sarah around," your dad said, beginning to zone out to the movie that was on the TV.
"He's single," was all you said, picking your phone back up.
"He's cute," Cassie said, and you blushed. "I'm glad you said yes, mom and dad already love him, so he'll fit right in."
"I don't even live here. It's a casual thing, we're just hanging out," you told her.
"Yeah, okay," she said, giving you a wink. You rolled your eyes and pinched her as you passed by.
"I'm going to shower, then maybe you can help me pick out something to wear," you told her over your shoulder, walking back upstairs.
Joel arrived at your parents' house promptly at 7, just as he promised. He pulled into the driveway, checking his hair in the review mirror quickly before sliding out of his truck and making his way up the porch. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this nervous as he glanced down a the green flannel he wore, praying he didn't miss a button or a stain. He was with his ex for so long that he could barely remember a time when he was nervous around her.
But with you, he felt the butterflies the moment he saw you at the party. You didn't notice him at first, but he saw you enter the living room and freeze in the doorway, your eyes locked on someone across the room before backing out the way you came, as if you were looking to avoid them. He couldn't catch who it was, having hardly known more than five people in the whole house, but he felt compelled to follow you. To see if you were maybe looking for a husband or boyfriend. But when he saw you alone in the kitchen, staring down at your phone, he couldn't stop himself from saying something to you.
Joel never did things like that. He always kept to himself, very quiet and reserved. He was content with his work during the day and hanging out with Sarah at night.
For the most part, he was happy. It was only at night when the loneliness crept up, when he tucked himself into his big, cold bed and tried his best to fall asleep as fast as he could, so he wouldn't lay there wishing someone who cared for him was just in the bathroom washing up.
Tommy had been encouraging him to get back out there, always offering to watch Sarah if he caught Joel looking a little too long at a waitress or a neighbor. Sarah was old enough to be on her own for a few hours, but he still asked Tommy to stop by, anyway. Maybe part of him wanted his brother to know that he was going on a date, if only so he would stop trying to set him up all the time with women he had no interest in.
Joel reached out to ring the doorbell, cringing when he noticed it was one of those camera doorbells. Paul must have installed it after the house was finished. He heard heavy footsteps on the other side of the door and held his breath, realizing he hadn't thought about your dad's reaction to your date.
Paul swung the door open, greeting Joel with a deep scowl as he leaned up against the doorframe.
"What's up, Joel?" he asked. Joel cleared his throat.
"Hey, Paul. I'm here to pick up your daughter," Joel replied, bracing himself. Paul just stared at him, breathing deeply as he looked Joel up and down. Joel wasn't a small man, but Paul had at least sixty pounds on him. He tended to have an intimidating look until you got to know him.
"Oh, yeah? For what?" Paul asked, clenching his jaw. Joel froze, wondering if there was a reason you didn't tell your parents about tonight, unsure what to say. Finally, Paul's face broke into a huge smile as he began to crack up, doubling over at the waist.
"I'm sorry, Joel, I had to," he wheezed, standing back up and clapping Joel on the shoulder. "Couldn't help myself. Come on in," he said, still laughing as he led Joel down the hall and towards the kitchen.
"Jesus, Paul, scared the shit outta me," Joel admitted, his heart racing as he rubbed his forehead.
"Beer?" Paul asked, and Joel shook his head.
"No thanks, I'm drivin'," he replied, and Paul raised his eyebrows with a nod.
"Good man, passed the first test," he said with a wink as he twisted open a beer for himself. "Hey, uh, in all seriousness, I just wanna talk with you before she comes down."
"Yeah, 'course," Joel replied, leaning up against the counter.
"I ain't sure what she's told you about the asshole she was with before, but he really hurt her. Now, I know it ain't got nothin' to do with you, what's in the past is in the past," he said. "But just keep that in mind, will you? I can't stand seein' my little girl hurt like that again."
Joel nodded solemnly, understanding completely.
"I ain't like that, I'll be respectful, I promise," Joel replied. "Besides, we both know she's goin' back to New York in a few weeks. We're just gettin' to know each other, is all."
"Yeah, she said the same thing to her sister earlier, but then she spent all damn day on the phone, pickin' out an outfit and gettin' herself ready," Paul said with a sigh. "I'm just sayin', be careful with her."
Joel felt a flutter in his chest and tried to hide his smile when he found out you had been thinking about him all day. He was glad he wasn't the only one.
"I hope you weren't waiting long," you told Joel as he backed out of your driveway.
"Not at all," he said with a smirk. "You're worth the wait. You look beautiful." He glanced down again at the light pink sweater with a small designer logo he was unfamiliar with in the corner.
You blushed and bit your lip, quietly thanking him and trying to hide your reaction behind your scarf, but he saw it. He always does.
Now that he knew you were looking forward to this date just as much as he was, he felt a little more confident.
"Did you have a good day?" he asked, giving you a sideways glance as he merged his truck into traffic.
"Yeah, did you?"
"It was alright," he said, slowing the truck down at a stop light. He turned to face you now. "Couldn't wait to see you, though."
You turned a darker shade of pink and he smiled, pleased to see that he could elicit that reaction from you, the same way you do to him.
"So, ice skating?" you said, trying to take the heat off of you. You looked at his hands on the steering wheel, noticing he made sure to take his ring off.
"Yeah," he said, pressing his foot on the gas as the light changed. "Thought you could teach me somethin'."
"Teach you? How do you know if I can even skate?" you asked teasingly.
"Just a hunch. Was I right?" he replied, his mouth turning up into a half smirk. You giggled and he felt his stomach tighten. He needed to hear that again.
"Yeah, you were right," you relented. He pulled his lower lip between his teeth and slapped the steering wheel in victory, making you giggle again, and his chest filled with warmth at the sound.
"Where's Sarah tonight?" you asked him as he pulled into a parking spot at the skating rink.
"My brother's watchin' her," he replied, disappointed that you got out of the truck so quickly. He had planned on opening the door for you.
"Does she like to ice skate?" you questioned as he led you inside to the counter to rent your skates.
"Oh, of course she does. But I usually sit it out and just watch her have fun," he said, picking up your rentals and heading over to a bench.
"You should have brought her, I wouldn't have minded."
"We don't have to talk 'bout her, you know," he said quicky, and your fingers froze over your laces.
"Why wouldn't we talk about her? She's your daughter," you asked slowly, straightening back up to look at him.
"No, I know. What I mean is, I know it ain't every woman's fantasy to go out with a single dad and all the baggage that comes with that. So, if you don't wanna talk about her, I get it," he said, casting his eyes down as he focused on tying his laces. You reached out a hand and gently placed it on top of his, immediately making him freeze at your touch.
"She's part of your life, so I want to hear about her. You shouldn't think like that, Joel. It's really not a dealbreaker for most women," you assured him, gently rubbing your thumb over his knuckles, his eyes glued to your hand as he listened. "And if it is, fuck 'em."
His eyes snapped up to yours now, then a slow smile spread across his face.
"Okay," he said softly, and you smiled, pulling your hand back, leaving him wanting more.
"Besides," you said, standing up on your skates as you made your way to the rink. "You have no idea what kind of fantasies I have."
You turned to give him a wink as you effortlessly stepped out onto the ice, holding out your hands encouragingly for him to follow. It was a miracle he was able to move his legs after that comment, but he managed just because he knew he would feel your warm hands on his again.
Joel was a quick study. He was nervous at first, you could tell that he didn't want to embarrass himself, but he did surprisingly good. Especially considering how crowded the ice rink was and how fast people were skating by. After about half an hour, he was able to skate - albeit, slowly - around the rink next to you without any assistance. Part of you wondered if he pretended to need more help than he really did just so it would make you feel good.
"So, anyway, that's basically what I do for work. It's pretty boring," you said with a sigh.
"Not boring. Marketing in New York City sounds like a dream," he replied.
"Yeah, except I work on all the behind the scenes stuff. It's not really as fun as it sounds," you admitted, not missing work in the slightest since you've been back in Texas.
"Well, d'you work with some fun people, at least?"
You paused, considering his question for a moment, before shaking your head with a dry laugh.
"Not really," you said, but he still tried to help you find a reason why you would put up with it.
"You were able to take off almost a whole month, that's pretty great. Not many places'll let you do that, can't be that bad," he offered, and you scoffed.
"It's the time I saved up for the wedding I was supposed to have," you told him sadly, and he groaned.
"I'm knockin' it outta the park tonight, ain't I?" he said, rubbing his face before almost losing his balance. You giggled and he couldn't stop the huge grin that plastered itself across his face.
"It's fine, you didn't know," you said, waving him off. And for the first time, you really didn't mind talking about it. Something about him made it easier.
"What'dya say we get some hot chocolate?" Joel asked, jutting his chin towards the vendor where you first came in.
"Yeah, that sounds great," you replied. Joel turned towards the exit without looking when a teenage boy, who was speed skating around the rink trying to impress a girl, smacked right into him, sending him flying backwards on the ice.
"Joel!" you exclaimed, rushing to his side. He groaned, rubbing the back of his head.
"Hey, why don't you watch it!" you yelled angrily at the teenager, who had managed to only stumble a bit upon impact.
"Sorry, man," the kid mumbled before taking off.
"I'm gonna kick his ass," you said, about to stand up to go after him, but Joel reached up to grip your arms, holding you in place.
"I'm fine, sweetheart," he said with a chuckle. Sweetheart. Your heart skipped a beat at the term.
"Are you sure?" you asked, your brow furrowed with concern.
"Yeah, just gimme a hand," he said, and you stood to give his arm a firm yank, allowing him to stand.
"Let's get you off the ice," you told him, ushering him carefully to the exit and finding a bench.
"Does your head hurt?" you asked, sitting down next to him. Your fingers reached up to graze the back of his head.
"No," he said breathlessly, staring at you as you continued to study him for any injury. God, you were so beautiful, he couldn't force himself to look away.
"That's good. How about your vision?" you pressed, still so focused on the fall and not seeing the way he was looking at you. But when you finally locked your eyes on his, your breath caught in your throat.
All the laughter and playful yelling surrounding you faded. You couldn't look away from his heated gaze, his deep brown eyes boring into yours so intensely, you almost forgot to blink. He brought his hand up to gently cradle the side of your face, his calloused palm meeting your soft skin. Your lips parted to accommodate your sudden need for more oxygen, and his gaze fell to your mouth.
"Joel," you whispered, and the way his name sounded coming from you was so damn sweet, it almost did him in.
"Yeah?" he whispered back, swallowing the lump in his throat.
"Kiss me."
He didn't need to be told twice.
He leaned forward, eyes sliding shut and slotting his lips against yours, deeply breathing in your scent so he could remember it tomorrow. He was determined to commit every second to memory, knowing that by morning he would be aching for you, aching for this. Against his better judgement, he pressed himself into your lips harder, unsure if he will ever get to feel like this again when you inevitably came to your senses. The idea of this feeling being taken away from him spurred him on, desperate and eager for every second you were willing to give him.
Your hand came up to the back of his neck, holding him against you as his lips massaged yours tenderly. You inched closer to him on the bench so you could tuck yourself into his broad chest. He was so warm and soft and strong that it was making you dizzy. Your fingertips stroked the curls at the base of his neck as you tentatively opened your mouth just enough to suck his lower lip between yours. The quiet noise he made when you did that made your insides clench with need, and against all odds, you felt yourself falling, completely losing yourself in him and the moment.
A startling voice over the loudspeaker announcing that the rink was closing in fifteen minutes finally snapped you out of it. You both pulled back but kept your foreheads pressed together as the world around you slowly melted back into focus. His hand still cupped your face and he lifted his thumb to gently trace your swollen lips.
"I should take you home," he murmured. At first, your stomach flipped, thinking he meant his home, but you realized he wasn't that type and he meant your parents' house.
You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, and you sat back reluctantly, breaking away. His hand dropped from your face to the hand in your lap, his thick fingers wrapping around yours for a moment as he collected himself with a deep breath.
Finally, he forced himself to stand, still clutching your hand and helping you up. You glanced down at the floor and smirked.
"We should probably take our skates off," you said, and he chuckled, breaking the tension and sitting back down, his hand reluctantly letting go of yours to undo his laces.
After you turned in your rentals, his hand quickly found yours again, unwilling or unable to let you go as he led you back to his truck, this time making sure to open the car door for you. Thanking him quietly, you jumped up into the cab and watched him round the front of the car, running a hand through his hair and sucking in deep breath.
You grinned and bit your lip as he started the truck, swinging his arm around to grip your headrest and twisting his body to back out of the spot. It took everything in you not to scoot across the seat and tuck yourself into his side.
He let his arm drop loosely on the seat in between you as he drove down the street, one hand on the steering wheel. Your fingers inched forward, sliding your palm underneath his hand, lacing your fingers together. The corners of his mouth tugged into a smile and you drove in a comfortable silence, your hands intertwined the whole time, until he pulled into your driveway and cut the engine.
You sighed as you stared at the darkened house, already missing him and he wasn't even gone yet. He peered over at you, trying to think of a way to prolong the date, but aside from the obvious, which he wasn't going to do just yet, he was coming up empty.
"Lemme walk you up," he said finally, and you nodded, reaching for the handle of the door but he stopped you. You furrowed your brow, confused, until you watched him rush over to open the door, and you grinned, taking his hand so you could slide out of the seat.
You stared at the ground as he led you up the path to the porch, your heart pounding in your ears. You weren't sure what you had been expecting tonight, but it definitely wasn't this feeling. This was so much more.
"Well, thank you for tonight," you said as you reached the door, turning around to look up at him through your lashes. "I had a really good time."
"Yeah, me too," he said, his soft, brown eyes trailing over your face, locking away every little detail. Unable to resist, he stepped forward, his rough hand skimming around to the back of your neck. He tilted your face up, ducking down slightly to meet you halfway and brushed his lips gently over yours.
Your hands flew up to grip the collar of his flannel, keeping him pressed against you as you leaned against the front door. God, for someone who claimed to be rusty, he was a really good kisser. He was gentle and slow and it took your breath away both times. You knew you were getting in over your head, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. All you could think about was him and how badly you wanted more.
Nervously, you opened your mouth and flicked your tongue against his plush lips. He responded by parting his lips and allowing your tongue to dance with his own, his mouth applying more pressure than before as the heat flared between you.
Before you could stop it, a soft moan rumbled from your throat, causing him to pull back, panting slightly as his gaze flickered between your eyes. You gazed up at him, eyes dark and desperate, your fingers still gripping the fabric of his shirt tightly.
You weren't sure what he was searching for, but after a moment he seemed to find it because his mouth came crashing down on yours once again, this time with more yearning and desire. His tongue probed inside your mouth, licking past your teeth and in the back of your mind you realized he tasted faintly of mint and you wondered when on earth he popped a mint into his mouth but it didn't matter. Nothing else mattered except the two of you in that moment, each seeking something within the other that you never expected to find.
His chest ached knowing he would have to stop kissing you soon, or else he would never leave. He always considered himself a strong man, after everything he had been through, how could he not? But something about you made him realize he wasn't nearly as strong as he thought. Your lips were so soft compared to his, so sweet and perfect that it made him want to cry because in that moment, he knew he could never let you go.
#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller fic#joel the last of us#tlou hbo#the last of us hbo#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel x reader#joel x reader smut#joel miller angst#joel miller fluff#pedro pascal#the last of us game#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us#hallmark christmas movies#hallmark#christmas#joel miller christmas
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ANGST ( friendship ended, ego battles, Championship, Ferrari, Red Bull, Dutchman, American Girl, unrequired love, Title battle)
Y/N and Max have been friends since their go-karting days. She was a driver for Alpha Tauri and achieved spectacular results with the team and was hoping to take the second seat at Red Bull, but as other drivers are ahead of her to take that spot, she accepts a million-dollar proposal from Ferrari. Max is bewildered by her decision and breaks up a years-long friendship for a trivial reason, as she is thinking about the good part of her career and at Ferrari she has a chance to fight for titles. She is devastated by Max's reaction and his contempt for her, the Dutchman starts to pretend that the American doesn't exist and ignores her both in the paddock and in Monaco, where they live. Fans, fellow riders and the media are devastated how such a lasting friendship ended in such a heavy climate, the American media blasts Max, while the Dutch media trashes Y/N. Y/N and Max enter into a brutal and fierce dispute for the 2024 championship, more tense than 2021, due to the entire context that involves the two. Max felt betrayed by her leaving Red Bull and by her never realizing that he always liked her, but now she's the one who doesn't want anything to do with him in her life anymore and she's going to do whatever it takes to be world champion. They arrive in Abu Dhabi tied and in the wheel-to-wheel dispute, Y/N becomes world champion, and Max realizes that he made a mistake with the love of his life and is humbled by her forgiveness.
This is the story of us! - Max Verstappen x FerrariDriver! Reader
Plot: In the style of a documentary find out what really happened in the year of 2024 between Max Verstappen and Y/N Y/L/N.
“Audio test in the studio please Y/N” the Documenter asks from behind cameras.
“10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1” you say your face on camera as some continues to fix your hair.
A News Broadcaster pops up from 2023 on Sky Sports News.
“Today the shocking news has come that rather than signing with Red Bull Y/N Y/LN has made a million dollar move to Ferrari”
“Y/L/N to drive in Red for the 2024 season”
“Red Bull decision to not sign Y/L/N leaves them out no options says Adrian Newey”
News articles play in overlay over each other as they get more frequent about your career change 2 years ago.
“Hiya Y/N” the interviewer for the documentary asks.
“Hello” you smile back politely on the footage.
“So this documentary is about the Formula One season of 2024 and … your intense battle for the championship”
“Mmmmm all very interesting no?” You joke before serious music comes on. Showing some shots of you racing, and some of the radios that came from that season.
“This isn’t right! Why isn’t my team working together” your voice come through.
“Y/N it’s time to back off. You can’t win this one”
“I’m never going to give up, it’s me or him in this dust and I don’t care which as this point as long as I know I pushed”
“Y/N are you okay? Y/N?”
“What the fuck was that?”
“Guys this is my last chance let’s put it all in”
“FUCK THIS GUY MAN”
“Yes it was … a heated season for sure” you chuckle.
“So start by telling us about your early life” she asks after a small compilation of early photos of you karting before it’s edited to flick back and forth between your interview and clips of you karting and in the feeder series.
“I started karting from a very young age, around 6 and worked my way up like any other driver. Eventually Red Bull … saw potential in me and decided to sponsor me and make me a part of their Young Drivers Programme. That eventually fed me into a seat in AlphaTauri or what is now Visa CashApp RB” you start, hands clenched together.
“I saw everyone else get a chance at that Red Bull seat before me regardless of my performance. And when they signed Sergio Perez, someone from a different team, that tipped me over the edge” you admit, knowing that it was one of the hardest heartbreaks you experienced.
“And that’s when Ferrari came in?” The interviewer asks.
“That’s when Ferrari came in, they wanted something fresh and new and I’d pretty much grown up with Charles just like I had Max, so there was no concern about us being Team-Mates. It was … despite Ferraris struggles in recent years, my only way forward” you nod your head, before the documentary shows your driving in your AlphaTauri and your incredible win in that car, that should have been the reason Horner wanted to sign you.
“Max … wasn’t happy with this decision” she asks and you nod.
“He wasn’t … i thought if anything was to ruin our friendship it would be an external relationship that didn’t appreciate our bond. Not … because of a job” you laugh thinking of his reaction and how he’d cut you off in all aspects of life.
That year was difficult for you, even though you’d had more people around you than you’d ever had in your life you had never felt more lonely.
Max had pretty much axed you out of his life. He’d blocked you on every social media, every messaging platform and even put your emails into his junk folder. You thought it was a step too far writing to him so, you left it.
You left an eleven year friendship to just go down the drain. You didn’t realise until he was actually gone how much of an impact Max Verstappen had on you and your life. He was there for you for every major thing that happened in your life and this move to Ferrari felt like your next step. But he had no longer wished to be a part of that.
“What did it feel like when you announced going to Ferrari?” Your asked and your paused for a while before you face the interviewer.
“I think everybody dreams of driving for Ferrari, no matter what team your currently with as … it’s the pinnacle of motorsport. But to be the first female to drive for Ferrari is a statement. The day I made the announcement and it went onto the F1 page that my contract was up with RedBull and AlphaTauri for the 2023 season I couldn’t have been happier because it felt like I was finally moving forward and not stuck in the same spot” you answer and she nods.
“And how did that affect your friendships?” She asks and you almost scoff.
“Why didn’t you just say Max” you chuckle before sighing. You never mind talking about it especially now, of course you were upset and heated back then. You normally tending to be after racing if it didn’t go your way anyway, but when it came to Max leaving you there were times you were pretty nonchalant about it because you didn’t know how to react.
It was the later reaction that was more frightening.
“Well, that would spoil that kind of answer, clearly there’s more of an issue here than with any other driver” she asks.
“You’ve done your research, you know exactly what happened”
Media floods in the documentary American News anchors sending hate to Max Verstappen especially when he came to home turf for a race and the Deutch fans butchering you in the Netherlands.
SkySports -
“Max Verstappen is brutal, can’t imagine ever being as petty as he is”
ESPN News -
“And today we have news that Red Bull Driver Max Verstappen has cut all ties with new Ferrari Driver Y/N Y/L/N, for her change of team”
Fan at the Track -
“You know Max is incredibly overrated and childish for what he did to our American pride and joy”
News in the Netherlands
“ze is gewoon een vreselijke chauffeur”
Fan at Zandvoort
“neuk haar”
It pans back to you looking down at your hands before the interviewer speaks up again.
“So before the season started did you and Max have any heated arguments that contributed to the start of the season?” She asks and you shake your head.
“He blocked me on everything, I was with my ex-boyfriend at that point and we were travelling during the winter break so it didn’t bother me too much. I tried to keep myself distracted knowing I had great support around me, a new team to get to know and work with.
But as the 2024 started to get closer and you came back home to Monaco, sensing Max had disappeared from your life finally sunk in. You had many days at home wrapped up in blankets crying, wondering where it all went wrong.
Making you feel lonely in Monaco was one thing, but it only got worse in the paddock when racing resumed for the testy 2024 season.
A video plays of the Bahrain testing in 2024 you on track in a semi fast Ferrari that people cannot tell whether you are sandbagging or not Max breezing past you.
Strangely that was the closest you’d been to Max in months.
“Monaco was different now that you didn’t have your best friend … how did you occupy your time instead?” She asked.
It showed videos of you partying in Monaco with Charles your soon to be team-mate, Lando Norris and Daniel Ricciardo.
Then it flicked to you and Lando golfing with Max Fewtrell, while vacationing.
It flicked to a very public argument between you and your boyfriend which proceeded to your breakup.
“Well, it was an interesting build up to the season. Let’s just say that” you smirk knowing at the start of 2024 before preseason testing you caused a lot of chaos all to try get your mind off the absence of Max.
“Then we find ourselves at Bahrain 2024… a race I think that will be in the history books as one of the most tense season openings ever” she admits writing something down on the notepad she had that she really didn’t need.
“Yes, it was an interesting race. I think that was the first time I was in equal machinery to Max, at the start of the season we didn’t start off as good as RedBull but Charles and I were giving him a run for his money” you admit knowing Sergio Perez didn’t have the greatest start to the season and now that you were locked into Ferrari, Red Bull were beating themselves up over the loss of you.
“So Max took pole and you were only 0.003 seconds behind him, what a margin! You started P2 both front row” she smiles and you nod.
“Yeah I think that’s the most scared I’ve ever felt in a race car, P2 has been my best qualifying position and I couldn’t let it go to waste. But having Max next to me with everything that was going on was a massive headache” you tell her and there’s a clip of you looking over at Max sat next to you just before the formation lap was about to begin.
“Let’s talk about turn 1 Bahrain …” she asks and you nod.
“I mean, I was racing and I was racing hard. I gave Max plenty of room, I had the inside line and I got past him and led. It was a good overtake and the team didn’t exactly tell me not to go for it” you explain and she nods.
“But after your pit stop stuff got real” she adds and you nod with a roll of your eyes.
“Tell me about it” you laugh.
“AND VERSTAPPEN GOES FOR THE OVERTAKE GOING INTO TURN 5, Y/N DEFENDING BEAUTIFULLY AND HE GOES AGAIN EDGING HER INTO TURN SIX AND OMG HES OFF INTO THE GRAVEL! MAX VERSTAPPEN IS OUT IF THE BAHRAIN GP” it shows the commentary from Crofty when this was all happening showing Max getting out the car and slamming his helmet down.
“WHAT THIS Y/N HAS DAMAGE THERE WAS IN FACT CONTACT AND SHES HAD TO PULL OVER NOT MAKING IT BACK TO THE PITS FOR A NEW TYRE” is shown also you getting out of the car, your escorted back to the pit wall while Safety Car is deployed.
“Yours and Max’s argument that day while the race was still underway and Charles was leading, was intense who actually started it?” She asks.
“Oh Max did 100%. I was just talking to my race engineer and he came over all pissy and yelling in my face. Seeing him so red and angry was funny though” you admit.
“I think that’s the first time people had seen seriously Mad Max since the Ocon incident”
“I guess I just bring that side out of him” you admit with a nod.
“What the fuck was that” Max came over to you, you took a step back hoping to defuse the situation knowing their was cameras around and you didn’t really want to bring attention to either of you.
“Look Max we were both racing hard. It happens, you went into me, we both ended up out the race … it happens” you explain and the camera men all get closer.
“You went into me! Are you having a laugh!” He says until he starts ranting in Dutch and his PR manager and a Marshall take him away from you.
“Bahrain was incredibly dramatic for a race. The champion of last year was sat at the bottom of the leader board and Charles, Lando and George were looking at the top spots. How did the make you feel?” She asks and you nod.
“Obviously it’s concerning. Coming back isn’t easy after a feat like that, so we knew we’d have to come back in Saudi and make it better than it was. It’s also hard to come back from something like that mentally? Yano. So Saudi was hard especially all the media around me” you explains and it cuts to clips of all kinds of media swarming around you asking you stuff about Max and your race in Bahrain.
“In Saudi you and Max raced hard but eventually it ended up with Max in P1 and you in P2 and Lando P3… that podium was tense” she explains and a video of the podium came up, showing Max celebrating with everyone but you. You ending up leaving him and Lando and leant over the fence of the podium to spray your team down below.
“Lando and Max are close, but you and Lando are aswell so how did it feel having no celebration up there with you?” She asked.
“Lando is actually the sweetest person I’ve ever met. He cares about everybody and everything and he worries when he thinks he’s upset someone. He messaged me after that podium, apologising for leaving me out of the celebration and he didn’t even realise he had as he was so caught up in Max spraying him he thought it was both of us. I obviously replied saying I wasn’t upset and that it was okay. I had my team and that’s all I really needed at the end of the day” you nod knowing it WAS a hard podium to be up on but you made the best of a bad situation.
“The comes Australia, and this is your first time to regain the points lost in Bahrain. So what did you do?”
“Man … the first time I won was so nice … that I just had to do it twice” you quote Anthony Joshua with a little laugh. Before it shows you’re victory.
“AND FOR THE SECOND TIME IN HER FORMULA ONE CAREER THE AMERICAN TAKES HOME THE CHEQUERED FLAG TAKING VICTORY IN AUSTRALIA, TEAMMATE CHARLES LECLERC BEHIND HER IN P2 WITH LANDO NORRIS CLOSING UP THE PODIUM” Ted commentates.
“It was an incredible feeling, knowing I was now making my way back up the ranks and was in P3 in the championship, Max was behind me and I felt like I was back in the game. To DNF’s for him was almost laughable.
“The points were very amusing come China, you were leading the championship and Ferrari were at the top for the constructors championship. And Max, Lando and Charles were all on 76 points and you were on 78… how tight!?” She adds.
“Yes, it was crazy how varied this season was with wins, especially with how RedBull were insanely dominant the year before and RedBull took all wins bar Singapore. At this point I wasn’t just fighting Max in he championship there was word at Ferrari that team orders were going to come into play to help Charles win but when we were both so close in points it was easier to just let us race” you explain happily, knowing that it was a fun season to be a part of.
“But after China was a sort of turning point for Max correct?” She asks and you nod again.
“It was for both of us. After China it was a constant change between me and Max of who was going to win, Lando and Charles remained close, but not enough to win.” You explain but her look tells you you didn’t give her the answer she was after.
“I meant about Max trying to rekindle that friendship you both once had” she asks and you scoff.
“Mmmmm you’ll have to ask him about that�� at the time I could only assume he wanted to be my friend to distract me from what was important … winning” you answer.
“Hello Max” the interviewer says as their special guest for the documentary comes in. He takes a seat, a stoic nod as he does.
“So, Y/N didn’t seem to be able to tell us what happened after the Chinese Grand Prix, it seems from sources that you unblocked her on everything and attempted contact?” She asks and Max nods.
“I- I did. After seeing her wins, and her face once she realised it was a full fight this year and how excited that made her I knew I was in the wrong for ever letting our bond go. I don’t think she even cared about the championship that year, just being in a team that was letting her drive a good car, with a good team and actually help her improve. I was in the wrong but at this point … she was only focused on racing” he sings and a compilation of videos of the pair of you arguing on track came up.
“It was just affecting you guys either was it?”
“No, it was hard especially for Lando, Daniel and Charles, we’re all so close and Lando and Y/n are like siblings so when it came to the both of us not talking it was difficult for them. Y/N being … well Y/N didn’t want to make it a big deal and started hanging out more with her other friends like Yuki, Logan, Zhou, George and Alex but it still meant it was … awkward to say the least” he admits.
“Yeah, that sounds rough, do you ever regret it?” She asks and he nods.
“For a long long time, I didn’t think that I would be able to reconcile our friendship like Nico and Lewis did” he admits.
“But you think that now?” She asks and he smiles.
“I know so” he smirks
It was the end of the season, you and Max were tied in points so for fans it was like Abu Dhabi 2021 all over again. Max was starting P1 and you were starting P2, you’d overtaken him down the straight having better straight line speed than his car did. You were practically flying round the track, Max chugging along behind you eventually setting the fastest lap, and you just knew the cheer from the crowd would have been phenomenal if you could hear it.
After great strategy from Ferrari you ended up winning that race, along with the Championship. Getting out the car was a feeling like no other, you bend down by the wheel of your car, tears streaming out your eyes and dripping on the still closed visor as your knees give out from a tricky and hot race as you sob.
You run over to the Ferrari team, them all pulling you into hugs along with Charles and his girlfriend who looks so excited to celebrated with you.
“OMG” you cried into Fred’s arms. What surprised you the mot was a tap on your back and a blue race suit. You were silent looking at Max.
“Congratulations” he says and tears are still in your eyes. You just nod at him politely.
“Please Y/N I’m so sorry, I - you deserve the seat and the championship. You’ve done so well this year and I’m so proud of you” he smiles and more tears flood your eyes. All you’d wanted to hear was those words.
“Do you ever think you could forgive me, because I love you Y/N and I cannot loose you” he says tears brimming his own eyes.
“I forgave you a long time ago Max, this was all really stupid” you smile at him. Before your team I pulling you away to get you to the podium.
“After the podium, come meet me at the bay, 3rd yacht along… okay I have to tell you something” he shouts after you and you nod grinning.
“What happened on that boat Max?” The interviewer asks.
“That’s for me to know and no-one to ever find out …” he smirks before laughing and giving you as kiss on the cheek as you come back into the room.
“Y/N?”
“Mmmmm I’m with Max, but let’s just say … we rekindled” you laugh and the cameras cut out the documentary ended.
“So you guys are obviously together … what changed?” She asks off camera curiosity getting the best of her.
“We worked out that we had feeling for each other for a very very long time before the fight!” You answer and well, that was that.
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hiya emmyy
i’m in love with your soft bf!sukuna pieces they’re just, melting me into a puddle of simp- so.. i saw your post abt angst so what would you think abt sukuna and y/n arguing, and making up after that? i dunno why but i’m just picturing him texting you to eat your meals and drink water and take your meds, even tho he acts like he doesn’t care at all 🫣 (did i js want that in bf? yes )
thank you so much for providing a lots of pieces for simps like me (who pretty much simp over anyone they can) and i might show up in your notifications bombarding your posts with likes but i hope you don’t mind ;)
hope you’re having a good day (and get good rest, water, food (and meds if you take them!)) <3
-sky :)
SUKUNA ANGST BUT HIM BEING DOTING MY BELOVED 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻
When you banish him to the couch for the night, he merely scoffs and grabs his pillow to make his way for it, but he hears your soft cries and his heart breaks just enough to make whatever you were fighting about seem beyond unimportant.
He takes his phone out to scroll on through it, trying to distract himself from the situation, too stubborn to fully cave into the guilt. But then he sees the time, and he sends you a text.
SENT don’t forget to take your medicine.
I think there’s a bottle of gatorade in the fridge. Drink that and have one of my protein shakes, since we didn’t eat tonight
dummy 🙄 why do you care?
SENT because I still fucking love you?? Duh??
Fights aren’t going to change that fact, idiot
He clicks his phone off and lays an arm over his eyes to block out the automatic lamp and the moonlight that creeps in from the curtains and into the big living room, and he tries not to look as you come stalking back out of the bedroom and approach him.
“You remembered that I have to take my meds,” you swallow thickly.
He scoffs, “and?”
He hears you shuffle awkwardly, “we’ve just… been fighting so long, I thought you would’ve forgotten, too- because I did.”
Now, he finally peeks at you from his arm, “I’m never going to forget something that important. You know that.”
He watches as you timidly, raise a hand to lay on his thigh, thumb stroking the muscle lovingly, “I’m sorry I banished you to the couch.” You look down in shame, “I never want us to go to bed separate… I don’t want to be the couple that does this, who needs to do this.”
��I didn’t do this,” he grumbles.
“I know; but I only did it because I was hurt, Sukuna. Please understand where I was coming from.”
This makes his heart jerk and tighten, his arm finally coming down to look at you fully, and with a click of his tongue, he reaches down to lace his hand with yours, and he sighs, “I know I’m not the easiest guy to work shit out with, so I get it.”
You sniffle, “Will you… maybe… come back to bed? With me?”
He ponders his options for a minute. He could go back to bed, condition you into thinking that it was okay and you’ll always pull this crap on him. But you look so sad, so heartbroken and wearing your heart on your sleeve-
And hey. Maybe he likes watching you grovel a little bit.
He clicks his tongue and makes a move to get you off his legs, and you smile excitedly. “Alright,” he gruffs. “Pull this shit again though, and I’m sleeping on the porch swing at ma’s.”
You nod your head, and as he sits up, he plants a kiss to your knuckles, squeezing your hand lovingly.
“I’m serious.”
“I know you are, Kuna.”
#☹️🫶🏻#sukuna#sukuna fluff#sukuna angst#sukuna x reader angst#sukuna x reader#sukuna x reader fluff#sukuna x gn!reader#sukuna imagine#sukuna jjk#sukuna ryomen#sukuna ryomen fluff#sukuna ryomen angst#sukuna ryomen x reader#sukuna ryomen x gn!reader#sukuna ryomen x reader fluff#sukuna ryomen x reader angst#sukuna ryomen imagine#sukuna ryomen jjk#jjk#jjk fluff#jjk imagine#jjk x reader#jjk x gn!reader#jjk x gender neutral reader#jjk x you#jjk x yn#jjk x y/n
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@viltrumtraitor liked for a starter!
The Viltrumite's high-speed flight would quite suddenly be intruded upon by a red shape somehow pulling beside (and possibly even a bit ahead) of him in the air, revealing itself as an unfamiliar, manta-like creature remarkably keeping pace next to him.
Clearly not aggressively, though, as it would turn to wave & smile.
"Salutations!" The Aerophibian greeted casually, as if they weren't both currently blasting through the air at incredible speeds. "Don't suppose you can spare the time for some questions? You're clearly in a hurry, but you can trust that I won't be slowing you down.
Awesome cape, by the way!"
#𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐨 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞! // 𝐈𝐂 //#𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞. // 𝐉𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲 //#viltrumtraitor#// hiya! hope this works for you!#// wasn't sure what verse you'd prefer this for#// or whether it's in Nolan's universe or Ben's#// so I left details vague enough to work in any direction
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little family || remus lupin
pairing: remus lupin x reader 1,258 words, single mom! reader, established relationship, FLUFFY FLUFF, kid fic, maybe i just crave domesticity a/n: back to back fics like who is she... (had this in the drafts for a WHILE) omfg guys this was soooo crazy indulgent I'm gong crazy no i did not proof read but i hope you like it anway
Remus is just about to leave work when he gets the call. He sees your contact name pop up on his screen, Y/N <3.
"Hello?" he says when he picks up the call.
"Hi, Re," you reply. You voice sounds rushed and anxious. "Do you happen to be free today?"
"I am, love. What is it?" he asks softly, stopping in his tracks to listen to you.
"Something came up at work today that I have to stay and handle, could you pick up Lyla from daycare?"
Lyla, a little girl equivalent to a ball of sunshine. Though you had only been dating for over a year, he sees her as his own.
"Of course I will. I'll bring her back to yours?"
"Yes please, thank you so much. I'll buy takeout for dinner when I'm done. You okay with that?"
"Yeah, sure. I'll go pick her up now."
He hears you heave a sigh of relief over the phone. "I appreciate you so much, I love you."
He smiles. "I love you, too. I'll see you later."
Remus reaches the daycare and realises he doesn't know what he's supposed to do. He walks by the window and sees Lyla colouring in her classroom. She notices the movement and looks up from her drawing. He can't hear her through the window but she's jumping around and cheering at the sight of him, waving excitedly.
He waves back at her, smiling, then notices one of her teachers gesturing to meet her at the entrance.
She gets past the gate to the classroom, leaving Lyla behind. "Hi, I know you're here for Lyla but since you're not her mum I'm going to need your ID," she says pulling out a file from one of the shelves.
He pulls out his wallet and gives it to her and watches her scan a list of what seems to be names of parents of the children.
She takes a few seconds and finally says, "Ah yes, Remus Lupin. You're on her list. I'll get her for you." He watches the teacher look into the classroom and call Lyla.
And then he realises. He's on the list. He's on the list of people who can pick Lyla up from daycare. You put him on the list of people who can pick Lyla up from daycare.
He's snapped out of his thoughts when he hears Lyla's voice. "Remoose!" she yells, running up to him.
"Hiya, angel," he says and picks her up. His heart melts as she immediately wraps her arms around his neck for a hug. "Mummy will join us later, but for now it's just you and me, okay?"
"We can watch TV?" she asks. "And then- then play toys?"
"Mhm, that sounds like a good plan," Remus replies, and they head to your home.
Later, you turn your key to your flat and open the door. You can hear the television playing a movie and the sound of your daughter's laughter. You kick off your shoes and walk into the living room.
Remus is covered in the fake makeup from Lyla's child-friendly kit. His hair is also adorned with little flower hair clips. He sits cross-legged on the floor while she sits in his lap.
"Looks like you had a lot of fun without me, hm?" you say. Lyla jumps at the sound of your voice, immediately running to you.
"Mummy! Remus fetched me today!"
"I know, darling," you kiss her cheek. "I asked him to. Did he take good care of you?"
She nods aggressively. She runs back to Remus, who is already walking up to you.
"Well don't you look pretty today," you tease. He smiles and breathes a soft laugh.
"My makeup artist is talented. She's very serious about this," he presses a kiss to your forehead. "You hungry? I can heat up dinner."
"That'd be great, and then it's time for this bug to go to bed," you pick up Lyla. "Isn't that right?"
She lays her head on your shoulder, visibly getting sleepy as it gets closer to her usual bedtime.
"Say good night to Remus?" you turn your body, so she faces him.
Remus bends down to kiss her hair, "Good night, angel."
Lyla slowly closes her eyes, "G'night..."
Putting your baby to bed goes smoothly, and she easily winds down as she is tucked into bed. She snuggles into her blanket and looks up at you.
"I like it when Remus fetches me from school," you hear her mumble.
You smile at that. "Really?"
She nods. "I really like Remus."
"I really like Remus too, darling."
"I think you get very happy around him, Mummy," she whispers. "You were not very happy last year, but now I see you be happy with him. So I'm happy."
You feel your heart do something. Jump? Lurch? Lyla was right, being a single parent comes with its challenges and you can admit a lot of late nights were spent biting your nails and wiping tears from your cheeks. You tried your best to prevent her from seeing you in that state, but you know she's observant enough for her age.
And that's why you're so thankful to have met Remus. He accepted you despite the fact you had a whole child. He saw you not only as you but also as the mother of your child. He understood that Lyla would always be a priority to you over romance (unlike most men you've met). Despite all its complications, he has been able to fit into your lives as if he's already meant to be there.
A prime example could be taken from today. Surely he could've said no to picking up Lyla from daycare, he's just her mother's boyfriend, after all. But he agreed and handled the rest.
"He does make me really happy," you say to her. "Does he make you happy too?"
"Mhm! He always plays with me and watches shows with me. He also hugs me and kisses me. He makes me happy. He's like my Daddy."
You chuckle, trying to hide the way your heart is going crazy at that. Somehow, you take the leap. "You want Remus to be your Daddy?"
"Can I call him my Daddy?" she asks, her eyes hopeful.
"You'll have to ask him tomorrow," you say, and you wonder what his reaction would be.
"Okay, I'll ask him tomorrow. Good night, Mummy."
You kiss her forehead, "Good night, darling."
You walk out of her room to see Remus placing your plate of food on the table for you. Without saying anything, you approach him and hug him. He hugs you back.
He is silent for a while, swaying your body slowly as you hug. "You were in there for a while, what were you talking about?" he mumbles into your hair.
You take a deep breath and look up at him, chin resting on your chest. "I love you," you say.
He furrows his brows but nods anyway. "I love you, too."
"Lyla wants to call you her dad."
Remus stops swaying. What is he thinking?
"Okay," he says, simply.
You jerk your head back, "Really?"
"Of course, I love her too, you know. I'd be honoured."
Chuckling, you bury your head into his chest and squeeze him. You feel him press a kiss into your hair.
"We're like a little family," he whispers to you. And you can see it too. You, your daughter, and Remus altogether as one.
And there's honestly nothing you want more than that.
a/n: SO LIKE UM this has been in the drafts about the same time as the james one like i said this is just very very indulgent brainrot i still have plans for the james series!!!!!!! ty sm for your support <3 likes and reblogs are always appreciated.
#marauders x reader#marauders imagine#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin fluff#remus lupin fanfiction#remus lupin x you#remus lupin x y/n#remus lupin imagine#zee writes
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Hope you're hsving a good day/night!!
Maybe Sebastian with reader excessively showering him w/ compliments and trying to fluster him?
I just feel like being turned into a giant fish hybrid isn't the best for his self-esteem... I wanna give him some luuuv...
Yeah of course! :•D Thanks for requesting. Hope you're having a good day/night as well! ^^
"Oh Sebby!" {Name} calls out to Sebastian. "Oh {Name}!" Sebastian calls out as well in that same tone. "I wanna show you something."
"What is it?" He asks, wondering what {Name} had for him. "Get closer to me." Sebastian hesitates but does as he's told. {Name} kissed Sebastian on the cheek, smirking.
Sebastian's face heats up as he holds his face. "You smooth little fucker." He chuckles. {Name} chuckles as well. "Oh but is that all that you have to show me~?"
Sebastian smirks, seeing {Name}'s face get painted with a blush. "Well I uh..." {Name} sees Sebastian chuckle again. "I'm just messing with you. I appreciate your efforts into making me flustered."
"D-did it work?" Sebastian picks up {Name} and kissed them. After that, he nods. "Of course, {Name}. But I managed to make you flustered too."
Hiya! Sorry this took so long ugh. I was too busy doing stuff that I forgot I had a blog to run.
Divider by @/cafekitsune
#pressure sebastian solace#sebastian solace#sebastian solace pressure#sebastian solace pressure x reader#sebastian solace x reader#˗ˏˋ꒰ 📁 ꒱ tobias writes#˗ˏˋ꒰ 🌊 ꒱ tobias answers
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☕️ — 𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲, 𝐎𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐀𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧
summary. — it’s the time of year to be with the one who loves you, even if you don’t know it yet.
pairing. | dark!Steve Rogers x fem!reader.
warnings. | NON/DUBCON, dark themes, drugging, sleeping beauty au (but changed), kidnapping, manipulation, obsession, pet names (petal, baby), smut, kissing, choking, praise, dirty talk, rough sex, creampie kink, use of spit as lube, it’s winter, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!
word count. | 4.4k
author's note. | this is a birthday fic for the amazing @xsapphirescrollsx. happy birthday sweetie! you have been my biggest inspiration since i joined tumblr. your fics are some of the best, and you are such a kind and talented person. i'm so sorry i took so long to post this! i hope you like it, darling. thank you @cuttlefjsh for beta-ing. please enjoy this fic! taglist: @hansensfics. MINORS DNI! 18+ ONLY
In the last three years, the winters have been more bleak than bitter. What once used to be frostbite and fluffy snow is now dry air and slush-filled shoes. But up here, on this mountain, it’s more like a snow globe than anything else. One where the white particles won’t stop swirling, and the wind around you makes everything spin.
“Heya, Stevie,” you hum from your spot behind the wooden table. The bell of the door rings when he enters, a full six feet and two inches that you don’t even have to see to know it’s him. You’re hunched over your latest project—hemming the raw edge of some lady’s red scarf. “Hiya, petal,” he sheepishly greets.
“Got something for me? It better be an ugly Christmas sweater,” you joke, pushing the sharp tip of the needle through the fabric, turning it, and then repeating the motion. “Ah, I wish. It’s just one of the handkerchiefs my mom bought me,” Steve starts, inching closer to your workstation.
He ignores the other people there, the ones waiting for their things and the others repairing or creating said things.
“Why don’t you just bring them all, Stevie? I can repair them in one go, and you won’t have to come down here so much,” you question, knotting the end of the thread and biting the excess off with your tooth. Steve lives up in the mountains, and everyone is in awe of him for it.
Long journeys that only he can handle—he’s a god in their eyes. But to you, he’s just shy Stevie, trying to keep an ever-fading memory intact.
“I like coming down here as much as I can,” he sheepishly admits, ducking away from you. His gaze flits elsewhere, to the mannequin with no arms. “Ah, I see. You enjoy the exercise?” you question, not looking up at him still. You examine your work well done.
“Eh… No, not really. I mean—I do love exercise, but that’s not why I like coming by,” he stammers, hoping you don’t force him to spell it out. Steve is as red as the roses he spies in a vase. Where did those come from? “Really? Pray tell,” you smile, standing up and handing the scarf over to a much older woman.
You turn back around and settle into your cushioned chair, with Steve following your every step. It’s funny, though. His one step is about two strides from you.
“You,” he simply says, as if it’s something obvious that you haven’t quite picked up yet. You snort, admiring his cuteness, and begin to sort out what to do with his mother’s handkerchief. A few moments of silence pass, and Steve says your name. “Mmm?” you hum.
“I like seeing you. I love seeing you,” he emphasizes, and you beam at him, amused. “I love seeing you, too, Stevie. You always put a smile on my face,” you tell him, and his grin falters. It picks up again.
His teeth are nearly pearl-white, straight but not off-putting. Steve is a handsome man—no one can deny that. The gossipers wonder why his ex-girlfriend suddenly left the town, and the college-aged women bat their eyelashes at him.
When Steve visits the market or decidedly takes a stroll, everyone behaves as if there are standards to be met and sweet, simpleton Stevie is a king that’s hard to please. But they don’t know the man who still misses his strong mother or the man who tries his hardest to hold onto the past as it attempts to slip through his fingers.
“Hey, Steve?” you call out, even though you know he’s still standing before you. “Yeah?” he eagerly, loudly replies. “This one’s gonna take me some to get done. You can get your other errands done in the meantime,” you tell him.
She isn’t rejecting you, sweetie. She’s just playing hard to get. It’s what your father and I did…
The reassuring voice of Steve’s mother is right in his ear, her hand smoothing over his golden hair. He can practically feel her there—right next to him, searching for the grocery list as she gives him some of life’s best advice.
He smiles to himself, lips pressing together yet stretched out. Truth be told, Steve does not have anything he needs to do. He convinced James to deliver some groceries a week ago, as he was too busy sorting through Sarah’s belongings.
But he’ll do anything you ask of him. You’re so beautiful and intelligent, the woman he’s always yearned for without realizing.
It’s daily easy to put up a farce—fake smile, ingenuine gleaming eyes. Every woman who passes by Steve swoons, unlike how it was years ago. When he was bullied for things out of his control. No woman wanted him then, but now they all do. In his mind, he sort of scoffs. They don’t hold a candle to you—his dream girl.
“Hey, Steve!” a familiar voice calls out, capturing the blond’s attention. He quickly pinpoints where it’s coming from despite the burning of his ears. The temperature has dropped overnight, and Steve worries you aren’t dressed warm enough to withstand the frigidness.
Natasha stands by a French-style door, cheeks almost as red as her hair. She waves to Steve before making a come-hither motion with her hand, beckoning her friend. He eagerly makes his way over to her before breaking out in a light jog to speed things up.
“How’s it been?” Natasha asks, enveloping Steve in a hug. “Great, actually,” he tells her, much to her surprise.
It’s unlike Steve to lie about how he feels, especially at such a vulnerable moment in his life. And it’s so odd that she cannot sense an ounce of fiction in his words. “Really?” she questions, rubbing his back as usual before pulling away. “Yeah… Well, it’s been a bit hard, but…” he trails off, cheeks flushing.
“But?” Natasha prompts, ushering him into her store. It’s a hidden gem in the county but constantly raved about throughout town. Whatever other shops don’t have, she does—even the most unlikely of things.
“I… Well, there’s this girl,” Steve starts, breaking out in a breathy chuckle as Natasha gawks at him. “A girl, huh?” she laughs, mindlessly shifting bottles on a shelf that’s just been organized. “Yeah, a girl. Gosh, Nat, she’s the best. I can already see her in a wedding dress,” he expresses.
“She must be a catch. She’s got you rhyming and wanting to get married,” Natasha jests, happy to see her once-wilted friend now bloom. The two friends giggle in tandem before sighing deeply. “Well, if I’m being completely honest, she’s also got me staying up way too late at night. I can barely get an hour these days.” Steve’s confession has Natasha cooing at him. “That’s no good. Have you gone to the doctor? Bruce may be busy, but he could connect you to Stephen,” she tries, swiping barely visible dust off a surface. “Nah, it’s not that bad,” he shrugs, picking up a eucalyptus candle.
“Don’t pretend it’s nothing, Stevie. Especially not with me,” Natasha warns, reaching up to a shelf mounted on the wall. She gently grabs a small bottle of green liquid with vines decorating it. “Here, take this,” she urges, pressing it into his palm.
“Nat, I can’t–” he starts, attempting to push it back towards his friend. The redhead shakes her head and takes his other hand, bringing the two together to cover the bottle entirely. “You will, okay? It’s just something that’ll help you. Put just a drop in some tea or coffee, and you’ll be out like a light.”
The blond nods his head, soaking in all the information. “But only one teeny, tiny drop, Steve. A little goes a long way. Too much will make you sleep for longer than you’d like.”
“As in death?”
“No, no. Not death. It’ll be like a coma—knocked out for a few days. Only one small drop.”
The words echo in his mind as he steps out of Natasha’s store. They follow him as he returns to Snowy Stitches, and you wave him over to your station. They're barely present in his head as you speak and hand the handkerchief back to him. But they’re louder than ever when he makes a pot of hot chocolate to give you.
Steve, perhaps your most loyal customer, visits again the next day. It’s not very busy on Tuesdays, especially not towards the end of your shift. It’s dark outside, and the streetlights illuminate the sidewalks enough for you to recognize a few passersby.
You find yourself repairing your own clothes while your coworkers chat. You’re not startled when the blond says your name, two cups of something in his hands.
“Hi,” you hum, glancing up at him and pausing your movements. “How are you?” he asks you, seemingly giddy with how he can’t stop moving. “I’m good, really tired, though,” you admit. “How are you?”
“I’m great, actually,” Steve tells you. “Yeah?” He’s got a wide grin on his face, and you can’t help but mirror it. “Yeah… What’s that?” you question, pointing to the cups he holds. “Oh, I, uh, I brought them. I made them,” he starts, nervous.
You raise your eyebrows, urging him to continue. “Well, I didn’t make the cups, obviously. I made hot chocolate. This is for you,” he tells you, placing the one in his left hand on your desk. “Oh, Steve. Thank you so much! You’re the sweetest.” With a wide grin, you take a sip of the sweet beverage. It glides down your throat and leaves your taste buds begging for more. It’s got a peppermint aftertaste that mixes perfectly with the overall chocolate flavour. You’ve never had anything like it before.
“Wow… Steve, this is delicious. Did you make it yourself?” you ask before going back in for another sip. “Yep. It’s a special recipe of mine,” he tells you, smiling as he watches you grow fond of his gift.
“Why’s it special?” you finally say, pulling the cup away from your face. You feel like a fool for not pacing yourself. But the amusement on Steve’s face quells your embarrassment. “S’a secret ingredient. I can’t say.”
“Well, whatever it is must be magical. Really. You should sell some of this, Steve. I’ve never had anything this good,” you admit.
“You flatter me. Well, enjoy the rest. I’ll make sure to give you another batch next time,” he oddly says. Steve has always found some way to stick around longer than necessary. You don’t think much of this, though. Maybe he has somewhere to be.
“Yes, please. Have a good night, Steve,” you bid, and he nods at you as he walks out.
A little over twenty minutes have passed, and it’s time for you to head home. You bundle up for the unforgiving cold you’ve been dreading and say goodbye to your last two coworkers there.
They’re elderly women who have retired but can’t stand the boredom, so they decided to come up to your snowy hometown and open an alterations store. You’ve been working here longer than either of you can remember.
Steve watches as you do the last button on your coat and push the door open.
He’s been across the street the entire time—hidden under the shelter of Natasha’s store. His view was as clear as day, and he was so worried you’d catch him smiling once he saw you finish every last drop of the hot chocolate.
The streets cleared out as it grew darker and closer to the end of your workday. He was more than grateful for this.
No one to catch him. No one to disturb his work.
Steve trails behind you silently, years of undercover work and dangerous missions coming into use after all.
He notes the way you start to stagger, how you lean on the nearest wall or tree to steady yourself. He almost feels bad for smiling—but he just can’t help it. He’s wanted you for so long—and now you’re here, in his trap, waiting for him to catch you like the perfect prey.
Your eyelids feel heavy as you try your hardest to get home. Your head swings, and your legs feel like they can’t work as they should. Panic sets deep into your bones as the cold nips at your skin, creating an unsavoury feeling you just want to disappear.
It’s hard to think straight as your thoughts turn into a blur of words and nonsense. You slide down on the brick wall to the old blacksmith store, where a man named Thor usually resides. But it’s winter, and he always escapes the cold weather by heading to some beautiful island.
Everything feels surreal—like you’re half asleep and waiting for dreamland to pull you back in. You’re not sure why this is happening. Is it fatigue? Were you running a temperature without realizing it? Did you eat anything? Nothing comes to mind.
“Oh, baby…” a familiar voice croons behind you as a large, warm body joins you on the wet ground. “St– Steve? Is that you?” you slur through your stupor, making out his blond hair and handsome face. “Shh, don’t worry about that,” he reassures, though his overly calm voice does little to quell your worries.
He smoothes a large hand over your hair continuously, holding your body up with his other arm. He rocks you like a baby—like he’s putting you to sleep. It’s terribly bizarre, but you can’t fight it.
Not when you’re sound asleep, anyway.
Your limbs feel heavy—like they’re coated in molasses and held down by something too strong. Blankets keep you warm, but they’re too fluffy to be yours. Remnants of an inexplicable dream taunt you—one of an ordinary day at work with a grim ending.
You try to piece each fragment together and force your eyes to open. You’re met with a bright view from a window—and you know immediately that this isn’t your home.
In a frenzy, you whip your head around to take in your surroundings. The room is dark and grey, reminding you of some evil castle in a movie you watched as a child. None of the items are yours—so then why are you here? How did you end up in this place? Panic takes hold, and you push the blankets off your body, groaning at the immediate chill that takes over your body. You know better than to not dress warm for bed. But you’ve got a white nightgown on, something straight out of a time long before yours, yet with a modern, revealing flip to it.
“Good morning,” a familiar voice calls behind the wooden, bolted door. You rush to it and slam your hands on the material when your head starts to spin. You’re surprised you made it that far. “How did you sleep, petal?” Steve says, and the realization makes your stomach turn in dread.
“St– Steve?!” you incredulously ask, horror painting your features. “Yeah?” he answers, closer than you expected.
You don’t respond to him. Instead, you try your best to think positively. Maybe something happened to you, and Steve saved you. It’s the most plausible explanation and the one that regulates your breathing. You stick to it, turning it over in your mind and repeating this gentler idea.
“I’m coming in,” he warns, and you involuntarily take a step back. The door creaks loudly as Steve opens it, but the clanging of metal bolts and locks is even louder. “Morning!” he cheers, shutting it behind him.
His large frame blocks your view—you can’t even watch him seal your fate.
“Mo– Morning, Steve…” you start, looking at the tray he holds. It’s metal and quite fancy. On it are plates of breakfast foods that are your favourite, including two cups of coffee. “Uh…” you start, so many questions ready for him, but they all fizzle into nothing on the tip of your tongue.
“Hungry? I’m sure you are. I got you some coffee, too. But if you prefer tea, I’ll be happy to oblige,” he rambles, setting the tray on the bedside table. “No, coffee’s fine. What happened to me? How did I get here?” you question, getting straight to the point.
Steve stands up straight, and it’s only then that you realize just how large he is. He towers over you with ease.
“Ah, nothing you need to stress about, don’t worry. You’re home now, baby,” he smiles, sitting on the bed and patting the spot beside him. “Hah, good one. Was there a snowstorm?” you wonder, not sure why you can’t remember anything. “Nope.”
He hands you a plate, and you note how his body radiates plenty of warmth. No wonder there’s no heating here.
“Eat up, buttercup,” he playfully rhymes, but you don’t have an appetite.
A red mug. An empty, dark street. A brick wall. Steve holding you against his body. The hot chocolate.
“Did you drug me, Steve? Did you drug and kidnap me?” you accuse, standing up. But before you can get far, he grabs you by your wrist and pulls you into his lap. “There we are. Of course, I did, baby.”
Steve’s bluntness is horrifying. But shock has you paralyzed, and you don’t think to fight him. “Ma always taught me to take what’s mine, especially when a girl’s playin’ hard to get. It was cute at first, but I grew sick of it,” he seethes, eyes darker than you’re used to.
“You should eat your food before it gets cold. I made your favourite pancakes, and I’d hate to see them go to waste,” he follows, his tone lightening as a small smile spreads across his face. “I’m not really hungry, St– Steve. But thank you for the food,” you choke out, letting his previous words sink in.
Playing hard to get.
An idea strikes you. You’ve always been a creative and quick thinker. It’s one of the qualities Steve admires most about you. “How about we save this for a date later tonight? Or maybe even tomorrow? We can go to my place instead,” you offer, feigning excitement.
He doesn’t even take a moment to think about your offer. “Hmm… Well, why should I wait, petal? Hm? When you’re right here with me already?” he grins.
Steve’s large, smooth hands grab onto your waist, ruffling the fabric of the nightgown you realize he changed you into. His fingers dig into your skin, making you wince from the pain. He shushes you and lays back against the bed, groping at any amount of skin he can reach.
Against your will, you can feel your skin getting warmer and your pussy getting wet. It shouldn’t be this easy to get you worked up—but it is, and you curse yourself for it. “You look gorgeous in white, baby,” he murmurs, pulling you down so your chest touches his. “But you look much better with nothing on,” he whispers.
Steve grabs onto the lace-embellished straps of your dress, and with ease, he pulls at them until they snap. The front of your gown falls, and your bare breasts are exposed, nipples pebbling in the cold air.
“I’ve dreamed about this moment forever,” he breathlessly says, pulling the rest of the dress off your body until you’re completely naked. You can feel the hardness of his cock through his jeans, and his size frightens you. You’ve never slept with anyone that big. “I can’t wait to feel you wrapped around me, baby.”
Steve’s hand comes up to the back of your head, and he forces you into a kiss. It’s heated and literally breathtaking. His soft lips align with yours, and there’s a mix of his tongue caressing your mouth, but he pulls away sooner than you expect.
“Can’t get carried away—I’m usually more of a romantic, but you’re too gorgeous for me to resist,” Steve sheepishly admits, like some sort of lover. Like he didn’t drug and kidnap you. “Steve, I don’t want this. Please, just let me go. I won’t tell anyone. We can still go out! Please, just let me leave.”
He hums as he ignores your words, reaching down to where your core rests on his groin, and he undoes his belt. He follows this action by pulling down his zipper and freeing his aching dick from its confines. Tears sting your eyes, but you don’t make any attempts to fight him, fearing his strength and what he might do if you push him too far.
“I bet you feel like heaven, dontcha, honey? Enough to make a man crazy,” Steve grins, lifting you and dragging the fat tip of his cock through your folds. You’re wet, but it certainly isn’t enough to help with the incoming intrusion. The blond beneath you knows this, and so he spits into his palm and brings his damp fingers down to your cunt.
The touch makes you flinch. Perhaps it’s the filth or the fact that you don’t want him near you at all, yet here you are. “There we go. I’ll make sure to make a mess of this pussy later, petal,” Steve promises, and you involuntarily clench at his words.
Dirty thoughts run through your mind, and you can’t help but let out a whimper when he grinds his cock into your drooling hole. His width stretches your inner walls, the discomfort delicious despite the unfamiliar feeling of being full.
“There you go, good girl. Such a good girl for me,” Steve cooes, and your mind melts from the praise. You’ve always been a sucker for kind words. “Oh, fuck,” you mewl as he bottoms out inside your cunt. Your pussy grips him tightly from both the pain and pleasure.
“Shit—that’s it, petal. You got this,” he eggs on, watching as you scrunch your face from the adjustment. Steve keeps you there, still on his cock, for a few moments. He revels in every expression you make, the sharp exhale and the clenching of your fists. It’s a surreal experience for the blond—every bit of it feels like a fantasy that’s too vivid.
“St– Steve,” you let out a breathy moan. The contrast between the two of you—one fully nude and the other still dressed—makes you feel shameful. “I got ya, honey,” he tells you. Suddenly, a hand wraps around your throat. You grab Steve’s wrist immediately, out of fear and arousal. Nobody’s ever done this to you; you’ve never thought of it before. He squeezes lightly, and you gasp from the pressure. “I won’t hurt you—I would never,�� he reassures, though he’s careful not to tell you how much he loves the look of fear in your eyes.
“You know what to do, don’t you? Ride my cock, baby. C’mon, take what you need. Make yourself feel good,” Steve urges before guiding you himself. He uses his other hand to lift you up and drag you back down. You moan as he makes you fuck yourself on his dick.
You eventually take charge—at least, that’s how you feel at first. Your wet walls slide up and down Steve’s length, coating him in your wetness. Every time he nudges your sweet spot, your knees buckle, and you lose momentum.
“Yeah, that’s it. Such a good girl for me,” he grunts beneath you, though he struggles to appreciate your hard work. The pace is far too slow for him, so he starts to buck his hips upwards, meeting you halfway. His heavy balls slap against your ass each time, and the pleasure is so good that you fall forward onto his chest, with just the hand around your throat supporting you.
You still try to ride his cock, but at most, you simply gyrate your hips until your clit rubs against his pubic bone, adding to your euphoria. Your goal is to take what you want from Steve and put up with the disgusting act until you can escape his clutches. But you can feel your determination wearing away.
Steve’s moans and groans rumble in his chest, along with the clamouring of his heart. “You feel so good, baby. So warm, an’ tight, an’ wet. All for me, right?” he hums in your ear, not caring that you don’t give him a proper response. He’ll fix that soon.
There’s a Brooklyn accent to his words, one that you only pick up on now. An orgasm builds up in you quickly, that familiar elastic band in your stomach tightening with every push and pull of the blond’s member.
You clench around his length, and Steve knows you’re about to come. “Go ahead, honey. Come all over this dick,” he grunts, and as if on command, you reach your climax.
Stars decorate your vision as you squeeze him tightly. Euphoria pulses through your entire body, and your inner walls throb, holding onto the man under you. You stain his cock with your cream and let out a cry that is almost pornographic. “That’s it. Fuck, you were made for me,” Steve says, fucking into you with more fervour and vigour than before.
He makes you ride out your orgasm to the point where it’s almost too much to handle. You’ve never had a lover make you feel this good.
“Shit, I’m sorry, petal, I can’t hold on any longer. Your pussy is just perfect. I’ll do better next time; I swear,” Steve promises, and you furrow your brows. He starts to use you like some sort of toy, bouncing you and chasing after his own pleasure. “I can’t wait to fill you up until you’re leaking with my cum. You want that, dontcha?”
Initially, the idea fills you with disgust. But as his cock repeatedly hits your g-spot, you find yourself agreeing with him. It’s filthy, and you feel ashamed of yourself, but those feelings dissipate swiftly.
He pants like an animal, taking what’s his before shoving his dick deep into you. His balls clench as they empty themselves, white streaks painting your inner walls. Steve curses, and his eyes shut from the pleasure.
At the same time, you come undone for the blond once again. Your moans mirror each other as you’re filled up with his cum. “Fuck, yes,” he groans, running his hands up and down your body, almost as if to soothe you.
You’re exhausted. Maybe it’s from the way Steve just fucked you, or maybe whatever he put in your drink last night is still in your system.
Either way, you doze off right in his arms, just as he’s dreamed of for so long.
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