#I made this decision instead of focusing on a work meeting

[silhouetteonpaper]

Opportunity

Summary: Your first mission as an Avenger was just around the corner with Fury eager to have you on the team. As glad as your girlfriend was to have you around at work, she had her own opinion about you avenging. Would her conflicting hopes get in the way of the biggest opportunity you’d ever had?

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

WC: 1,509

Warnings/Themes: slight angst, fluff, protective Nat

“Alright, let’s give out mission assignments before we adjourn,” Fury lead the bi-weekly meeting at SHIELD, now moving on to the part everyone cared about. You leaned back in your chair, trying to look inconspicuous. But what everyone else couldn’t see was just how excited you were on the inside.

For the past few months, you’d been training non-stop to prepare for being put out onto the field as an agent. Days full of combat training, mental preparation, lessons on weapons, you felt more than ready. If anything, you felt over prepared.

This week, Fury had told you about a mission he marked you down for—your first mission since becoming an Avenger. Still, he didn’t disclose on any details as all missions were fully assigned in these weekly meetings. Now, you could hardly contain the eagerness that filled your entire body with anticipation. Not even Natasha, the person you were closest with could even begin to describe how you were feeling.

She was originally reluctant to have a new trainee on the team, but eventually you both grew inseparable. Nat admired how outgoing you were, and you admired her sense of humor. The two of you soon realized just how much you balanced each other out, it was a perfect match. Over time, your relationship as agents stemmed into something more.

“The first mission is next Wednesday, we’ve got a base out east to infiltrate. Right on enemy lines, I’ve put together a strong team for this specifically,” Fury began, your heart attempting to leap out of your chest in the suspense. “Agent Gale, Agent Earl, Agent Y/L/N, Agent Romanoff-“ He started to list, but not before getting cut off.

“Wait,” Natasha’s arms were crossed, a quizzical expression painted on her face. “Y/N? No, she’s not going.” Your heart dropped, all that excitement built up now plummeting. You shot her a hurt expression, trying to convey your confusion and your let-down. Just like that, Natasha ruined what was supposed to be your debut mission. It felt unfair that she tried to make a decision like this on your behalf. You both made eye contact for a moment before shifting to look at Fury’s frustrated expression.

“She’s ready, Natasha. I asked her specifically to join this mission, you two can resolve your personal affairs elsewhere.” He brushed her off, continuing to explain the mission. Natasha sat back in her chair, her eyes suddenly avoiding yours as she locked in on Fury’s presentation. You did the same, but instead of focusing on every detail, you couldn’t help but overthink Natasha’s actions. Why would she jump in like that and try to ruin an opportunity you’d waited so long for?

After a moment, you realized Nat was glancing up at you. Your gaze briefly met hers again; but there was something different behind her green eyes. Her arms crossed, expression stern—not necessarily unusual for Natasha, but you could tell something was up after that display. Even as stone-faced as she could be, Natasha wouldn’t hurt you on purpose.

Eventually, Fury wrapped up and everyone began to shuffle out; but you and Natasha both naturally lagged behind. The deep breath suddenly became stuck in your chest as Fury shot you one last nod, complete with a sympathetic smile. Finally, you were alone in the conference room that now seemed to be full of unspoken words. You and Natasha both stood uncomfortably, feeling the distance created between yourselves.

Something was on her mind, and you knew she wouldn’t speak first. “What was that about?” You asked her softly. It was easy to tell she was still processing, so you were careful to approach the situation cautiously.

“I don’t want you going on that mission.” Natasha stated like she was in charge, refusing to meet your gaze. You shot her another quizzical look, but this time out of concern more than anything. You both were passionate about freedom and agency, so this behavior was unlike her. She valued the right to choose, but it seemed like she wasn’t giving you any choice at all.

“That’s not for you to decide,” You tried to see through whatever wall the Widow was putting up, but she wasn’t making it easy. You knew her well, or you thought you did. The unlikeliness of her doing this was making you suspicious of what was really going on, and maybe that in itself was enough to give you a clue. “Look, I’m glad you care about me—assuming that’s what’s happening here. But I get to choose if I go or not. And I didn’t like that you did that in front of everyone.”

Natasha’s eyes rose like she suddenly realized something, and you could finally make contact with the familiar green gaze. It was missing that usual shimmer, though. She must’ve really cared, yet you were unsure why she was suddenly so protective.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” She finally spoke. “I just… I heard the premise of the mission and I couldn’t help but feel worried.”

You tilted your head. “You’ve done millions of these missions, you know them like the back of your hand.” There was a pause.

“But you don’t. That’s what scares me.” Now your gaze had found the floor. She was scared you weren’t ready. “What if you get separated and I can’t drop everything to find you? What if you get hurt and I can’t-“

“Nat!” You interrupted, stepping forward as she started to spiral down the path of ‘what if’s’. “That’s not going to happen, I’ve been training for months—I feel ready. And if it does happen, we have a team for a reason. You’re not the only one who has my back.” The person in front of you suddenly felt like a stranger. Natasha was never a huge worrier—if anything, that was you. To see her terrified over what could come of a run-of-the-mill mission made your heart sink. She was only trying to protect you.

But you didn’t need protection. You were an agent now, and maybe Natasha didn’t realize that yet. She sighed, her hand cupping your cheek as she took another step closer. She was holding something back, you could tell as her warm gaze fled your own with affection. Her expression turned soft yet saddened, like a proud parent watching their child graduate.

“What aren’t you telling me?” You questioned, leaning into her touch. The feeling of her hand on your cheek reminded you of the person she was; the cunning, smart, loving person who had your back no matter what. And she was about to prove that to you.

She took a deep breath, refusing to remove her eyes from yours. “I think I’m in love with you, and I’m terrified something will take that away from me… take you away from me.” Your heart nearly spilled out onto the floor, unexpected tears welling in your eyes. There was a silence, a few seconds of emptiness that covered the feeling filling you both. You suddenly felt a need to close the space between you and Nat, so that’s exactly what you did.

Leaning forward, she accepted your kiss gratefully. You had kissed her numerous times, but there was something different about this one. The two of you were both in love, and it was finally spoken aloud. Staying present in the moment, you eventually pulled away to look her in the eyes once more. Natasha also had tears welling in her eyes; maybe out of admiration, maybe out of love, you weren’t sure. But you wanted to stick around long enough to find out. You weren’t going to let this fight get in the way of the future you could have with her.

“I promise I’ll be safe on the mission. I love you too, and I don’t want our love for work to get in the way of our love for each other.” You voiced, watching her nod slightly. Your words made her understand a little more, you loved your work just as much as she did; if you tried to stop Nat from going out on the field, she’d be furious, so how could she do that to you?

That word, love, followed you around longer than you realized. Not just with work, but with Natasha as well. You didn’t think it was possible that two things in your life could lead to love. A love for avenging, and a love for a person. You wouldn’t trade it for the world, and neither would Natasha.

“You’re right,” She sighed, her hands falling to sit on your hips, keeping you pulled close. “I can’t stop you from going, I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m sorry.”

Your breathing synched with hers, your arms lacing around her shoulders. “I’m glad to know someone has my back, but I’m not a trainee anymore. I’m an agent.” You stated. Natasha smiled softly, the person you know and love returning once and for all.

“And I couldn’t be prouder.”

[abovethesmokestacks]

Well????

I guess I'm going to Rollo to see K in December???

[hollyoongs]

Anytime I'm alone, I can't help thinking about you (ariana grande - everyday) All I want, all I need, honestly, it's just me and you

ᨓ 。secretary!karina x ceo!fem reader ꒰✒️꒱﹕smut with plot ﹕+7k contains: smut, masturbation at work (freaky), they are horny for each other but reader is too blind, mention of sexual toys, pet names (slut, needy girl, good girl) d/s dynamics (they are both giving switch), spanking (not so hard, a couple times), oral (both receiving). The text inside a separator like this (━━━━━━☆━━━━━━) is a flashback. Never used Y/N in a story, but this mini series is an exception.

The power you held was absolute, unquestionable. Every decision you made rippled through the walls of your company, and no one dared to challenge it. The glass of your office windows reflected that authority—high above, unreachable. Until Karina came along.

She was efficient, poised, always dressed impeccably in tight skirts and button-up shirts that hugged her curves. And let's not forget a messy yet elegant hairstyle that showed her beautiful features, her shy behavior was her charm in contrast to how she matched your dominant energy at meetings. Her folder, always organized at her side, held her carefully crafted questions—ones that left executives speechless and you with a proud smile.

Karina was flawless in her role. But the way she handled herself wasn’t the only thing that made you notice her. It was the subtle tension that built over time she gave after a couple months of working with you, the lingering glances that lasted a little too long, the accidental touches that felt anything but accidental. She had a way of breaking through your perfect walls, and you hated that you started to like it.

Meetings became the highlight of your day, watching how she tactically maneuvered through conversations, challenging others with a grace that had you hooked. Every time she met your eyes after silencing an executive’s weak argument, you felt that pang of proudness with something more dangerous hidding there—desire.

It became more than professionalism. It was the way her fingers brushed against yours when she handed you documents, how her breath would hitch just barely when she stood close to you to discuss quarterly reports. That composed exterior of hers cracked just enough for you to notice how deeply the tension simmered beneath the surface.

But you kept it together. After all, you were the CEO. Control was what you thrived on. You had never let anyone, especially someone under your employ, cause you to lose your grip on that power. Until that day, damn that fucking day.

━━━━━━☆━━━━━━

It was right after a meeting, but it wasn't as perfect as usual. You could feel your anger boiling inside you, the marketing group of the company did quick and bad reports and handed them to Karina. You both walked to your office, Karina was more worried about your state after rescheduling the meeting and organizing one with the marketing group that day in a few hours.

"Do you want a glass of water, maybe some iced tea?" Karina asked, her voice soft but laced with concern as she watched you angrily pull at the tie of your perfectly tailored suit. Her eyes trailed over your movements, the slow reveal of skin as you undid the top button of your shirt. She should have been focused on calming you down, but instead, she was mesmerized by the way your chest rose and fell with each frustrated breath.

"Karina, I'm so fucking mad," you snapped, tossing the tie onto the chair as you collapsed into it. "They had a month to do this, and the work looks like a first-year university student could have done it better." You slammed the papers on your desk, the sound echoing through the room, but it was the sight of you sinking into the chair, head thrown back and eyes closed in an attempt to relax, that caught her attention.

She was supposed to be concerned, worried about the upcoming meeting, but all she could focus on was the way your shirt opened slightly at the top, revealing the valley of your breasts. Her gaze lingered there longer than it should have. She liked you like this—angry, vulnerable, undone.

"I'm going to bring some iced tea and let you relax until the meeting with the marketing team," Karina said softly, doing a small bow. You opened your eyes at her gesture, watching her.

"Don't come to the meeting with the group. You can go early today, Karina," you replied, standing up and grabbing your tie once more. As you slipped it back on, you glanced in the mirror a few feet away from your desk, your reflection staring back at you, still tense from the mess earlier. "And don’t worry, I’ll go get my tea. I need some fresh air."

Your purse and phone in hand, you walked toward Karina, stopping right in front of her. She stood still, her wide eyes following your every move. Without thinking too much, you reached out, wrapping her in a small hug. Her body stiffened in surprise as you pressed a soft kiss to her cheek.

"Thank you for everything you’ve done, Karina," you whispered. "I don’t know what I would do without you."

The sincerity in your voice lingered in the air, and before she could react, you pulled away and walked out of the office, leaving Karina standing there, frozen in place. Her mind raced, still processing the fact that you—her boss, the person she'd been secretly harboring a crush on for months—had just kissed her.

She turned slowly, her gaze fixed on your hips swaying as you walked away, the loose fabric of your office pants hanging just right. She swallowed hard, heat flooding her cheeks as her thoughts ran wild. She’d always admired the way you moved, the confidence that radiated from you even in moments of frustration. But seeing you like this, relaxed, offering a rare glimpse of your softer side—it was almost too much.

For a moment, she stood in the empty office, her fingers brushing over the spot on her cheek where your lips had touched. She replayed your words over and over in her mind. "I don’t know what I would do without you."

Her heart raced, her mind torn between professionalism and the burning attraction that had been growing for months. She wondered if you knew. If you felt it too.

Hours had passed since your kiss on her cheek, and Karina had tried her best to focus on her work, but the tension had only grown more unbearable. She watched you as you worked late into the evening, your brow furrowed as you wrapped up some final documents. The sight of you, so composed, so in control, only made her more restless.

Karina shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her panties soaked through as her body responded to the images that wouldn’t stop playing in her mind—your lips against her cheek, the warmth of your embrace, the casual dominance you exuded. She couldn't take it anymore.

Excusing herself quietly, she slipped out of the office and headed straight for the bathroom. The building was nearly empty by now, long after most employees had gone home. Her steps quickened as she entered the spacious corporate bathroom, relief flooding her as she realized there were no cameras, no one to catch her in this state.

She felt a mix of shame and desire as she jumped to the large sink, giving her back to the mirror, her breath shaky as she slipped her fingers under her skirt and tugged her soaked panties down. The cool air hit her damp entrance, making her shiver. Karina bit her lip, her fingers grazing her slit as she sat on the edge of the sink, her legs spread wide.

Her mind wandered immediately back to you—the way you had looked at her earlier, the way your lips brushed her cheek, the heat of your body so close to hers. She imagined your hands on her, how strong and sure they would feel, gripping her hips, pulling her against you.

She moaned softly, her fingers circling her clit as she closed her eyes, losing herself in the fantasy. She could see you now, standing in front of her, watching her with that same cocky smile you always had in meetings. Your eyes dark with lust, your chest pressing against hers as you leaned in, your breath hot against her skin.

"Fuck, just like that boss." she moaned lowly, her other hand grabbing her breast to add pleasure.

Karina's breath hitched as she dipped her fingers inside herself, imagining it was you, your hands roaming her body, claiming her. Her hips bucked instinctively, chasing the pleasure that was building inside her. She bit down on her lip, hard, to keep herself from crying out as her fingers worked faster, plunging in and out of her soaked entrance.

She could picture it so vividly—the way your lips would feel on hers, rough and demanding, the way you would push her up against the wall of your office, your body dominating hers completely. She wanted it. God, she wanted you. She wanted you to take control, to take her apart piece by piece until there was nothing left but pure, raw desire.

“Oh… Y/N…” Karina moaned, her voice barely a whisper in the empty bathroom, but it felt deafening to her ears. The way your name slipped past her lips only fueled the heat burning inside her. She pressed her fingers deeper, her slick walls clenching around them as she imagined it was you filling her, your hands all over her body, dominating her just like she craved.

Her breath came in short, ragged gasps as her hips rocked against her hand. Each stroke of her fingers was a reminder of how much she wanted you, how much she needed you to claim her. In her mind, she could feel your hands gripping her hips, pulling her roughly against you, your lips trailing heated kisses down her neck, leaving marks that only she would know were there.

“More… please,” she whimpered, her other hand teasing her breast through the fabric of her blouse, pinching her nipple between her fingers. The sensation made her arch her back, pressing harder against the cold mirror behind her. The contrast between the chill of the glass and the heat of her body sent shivers down her spine.

Karina’s movements became more frantic, her fingers plunging deeper and faster inside her dripping core as she imagined the moment when you’d finally snap. When you’d push her onto your desk, your eyes dark with lust, and tear off her clothes without a second thought. She could see the look on your face—the raw desire as you took control, your lips crashing against hers in a bruising kiss, your body pressing her into submission.

The fantasy felt so real that Karina could almost taste your lips, feel the roughness of your touch as you claimed her in every way she’d dreamed of. Her hips bucked wildly, chasing the orgasm that was quickly building, her body trembling with need.

“Y/N… fuck, please…” Her voice was hoarse, barely more than a breath as her body teetered on the edge. The slick sounds of her fingers moving in and out of her soaked entrance filled the bathroom, the echo only making her wetter.

And then it hit her—a blinding wave of pleasure that ripped through her, making her whole body tremble. Her back arched violently, her legs shaking as she came hard, her walls clenching around her fingers. A strangled moan escaped her lips, and she quickly bit down on her hand to stifle the sound, her heart pounding in her chest.

She sat there for a moment, slumped against the sink, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her body was still buzzing with the aftershocks of her orgasm, her fingers coated in her arousal. She stared at herself in the mirror, her flushed cheeks and slightly disheveled hair a stark contrast to the composed secretary she tried so hard to be around you.

But she knew that no matter how hard she tried to hide it, the desire she felt for you wasn’t going away. If anything, it was growing stronger, more unbearable by the day. She couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if you ever found out. Would you push her away? Or would you give in to the same temptation that haunted her every waking thought?

With a sigh, Karina quickly cleaned herself up and adjusted her clothes, trying to shake off the guilt that always seemed to follow these moments of weakness. But as she made her way back to her desk, one thing was clear—her need for you wasn’t just a passing fantasy.

When she opened the bathroom door, she saw you standing behind it, your cheeks red, but not as much as hers. Her solution? To ran to her stuff and to the stairs to leave the building. She was fucked, really fucked.

Karina’s heart dropped into her stomach the moment she opened the bathroom door. There you were, standing right outside, your eyes widening slightly as you met her gaze. The air between you felt heavy, charged with something undeniable, and the color on your cheeks gave away more than you probably intended. You knew. You must’ve heard her.

Her body froze for a split second, panic flooding her veins. She could see the flicker of curiosity, perhaps even amusement, in your eyes, but it only made her more anxious. She couldn’t face you—not after what she had just done, not with the sound of your name still lingering on her lips from the pleasure she’d just experienced.

Without a word, Karina darted past you, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. Her mind screamed at her to leave, to escape before she made things even worse. She didn’t dare look back as she sprinted toward her desk, her heart racing as she gathered her things in a hurried frenzy. She grabbed her bag and her coat, her fingers trembling as she fumbled with the zipper.

I'm fucked. I'm so fucking fucked.

The thoughts ran wild in her mind as she turned toward the stairs, desperate to leave the building before she had to confront you again. She couldn’t bear the thought of what you must be thinking. How long had you been standing there? Did you hear her moaning your name?

She nearly tripped over her own feet as she stumbled into the stairwell, the pounding of her heartbeat louder than her footsteps echoing in the empty space. She needed to get away—far away. Her mind was spinning, her arousal now tainted with overwhelming guilt and embarrassment. What had she done? What if you called her out? What if this ruined everything?

But as she reached the bottom floor, panting from both the run and the sheer panic consuming her, one thing stuck in her mind like an anchor:

You had been standing there. Watching her.

Karina's hands trembled as she unlocked her apartment door, barely registering the sound of it closing behind her as she hurried inside. Her mind was a blur of panic and humiliation, replaying the moment over and over again. You had been there, watching her—how much had you seen? How much had you heard?

She dropped her bag onto the floor, rushing to her desk. Her laptop sat in its usual spot, but tonight, it felt like a lifeline—a way to escape the nightmare she’d created for herself. Without thinking twice, Karina opened it, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she opened her email.

She couldn’t stay. She couldn’t face you after this. The shame was too much. She had crossed a line, and now there was no going back. Her thoughts raced as she typed out the words, her heart pounding in her chest.

Subject: Resignation Letter

Y/N, I apologize for my actions earlier today. I crossed a line I shouldn’t have, and I understand if you’ve lost any respect for me. I’ve been dealing with some personal feelings that I should never have let interfere with my work, and for that, I’m truly sorry. Effective immediately, I will be resigning from my position as your secretary. Please know that I have nothing but the utmost respect for you as a leader and a person, and I deeply regret putting our professional relationship at risk. I will come in tomorrow to submit my official resignation letter and collect my belongings. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. Sincerely, Karina.

She stared at the words on the screen, her chest tightening as she hovered over the send button. It felt like the only solution, the only way to escape the weight of her mistake.

With a deep breath, she pressed send.

The email disappeared from her screen, and with it, a part of her felt like it was breaking. All the late nights, all the effort she’d put into working for you—it was all coming to an end because of one moment of weakness.

Her phone buzzed on the desk, pulling her out of her spiraling thoughts. She picked it up, her breath catching in her throat when she saw it was a message from you.

Y/N: Karina, we need to talk. Since tomorrow is Saturday and in Chuseok the building is closed, I invite you to have a meeting in my house because I don't find it appropriate to talk about this at a restaurant. This is the direction: xxx-xxx-xx and please be there at 3pm Punctual.

Her stomach dropped.

Karina stared at the message, her heart pounding in her chest as her mind raced. You weren’t angry in the text, at least not from what she could tell, but there was a seriousness in your words that sent chills down her spine. A meeting at your house? The thought alone made her dizzy. What did you want to talk about? Did you see more than she realized?

She bit her lip, pacing around her living room as anxiety gnawed at her. She had already sent the resignation email, but this meeting seemed to complicate everything. If she didn’t show up, it would make things worse—like she was running from the situation. But going to your house? That was a whole different level of intimidation.

The clock ticked away the minutes as Karina stood frozen, unsure of what to do. The image of you standing outside the bathroom, watching her, flashed in her mind again. Had you seen her? Heard her moan your name? Her legs felt weak at the thought. God, why did I let it get this far?

But there was no escaping it now. You had invited her, and Karina knew she couldn’t avoid this confrontation forever. She needed to face you, if only to try and salvage some semblance of professionalism—or at least to explain herself.

The next day arrived too quickly, and Karina found herself standing outside your house at exactly 3 p.m., her nerves threatening to consume her as she raised her hand to knock. She was dressed conservatively, trying to hide the turmoil she felt inside, but her palms were sweating, and her heart wouldn’t stop racing.

Before her hand even made contact with the door, it swung open, and there you were. Dressed casually in a pair of slacks and a simple blouse, your eyes met hers, and Karina’s breath hitched. You looked calm, composed, yet there was something intense in your gaze—something that made her skin tingle with anticipation.

“Karina,” you said softly, stepping aside to let her in. “Come in.”

She hesitated for a moment before stepping over the threshold, her heart pounding in her chest. The atmosphere inside your house was warm, comfortable, but the tension between the two of you was undeniable.

You led her to a sitting area, and as Karina took a seat, she couldn’t help but notice how close you were to her, your presence overpowering in the quiet space. Her mind was racing, her pulse quickening as she tried to figure out what you were thinking.

“You sent me an email,” you started, your tone neutral, but there was something unreadable in your eyes. “About your resignation.”

Karina swallowed hard, nodding slightly, unable to find the words to speak. Her hands fidgeted in her lap, the weight of your gaze making her squirm.

“I read it.” You leaned back slightly, your eyes never leaving hers. “But I’m not accepting it.”

Her heart skipped a beat, her eyes widening in shock. “Y-you’re not?”

You shook your head. “No. I think there’s more to talk about before we make any decisions.” Your voice softened as you leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees. “Karina… you're one of my best employees, you know how many people I had to fight for them to not give you corporate cards? I can't loose you for that.”

Karina's heart was pounding, her pulse racing as she listened to your words. She couldn't believe what she was hearing—after everything, you still wanted her to stay. Her fingers trembled in her lap, the tension between the two of you thick and palpable.

"You fought for me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, still processing the gravity of your words. It wasn’t just about her job performance; it was something deeper. The weight of your gaze made her stomach flutter.

You gave a small nod, your eyes softening as they locked onto hers. “Of course I did. You’re invaluable to this company, and to me. The way you handle things, how you think on your feet… I couldn’t ask for a better secretary. But this”—your eyes flicked down to her nervously fidgeting hands—“this situation is something we need to talk about."

Karina’s mouth went dry, her throat tightening as the reality of the situation settled in. She had crossed a line, and now you were confronting it head-on, yet there was no anger in your voice, just a calm determination. It was the part of you that had always drawn her in—your ability to remain composed, even when things got messy.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking slightly. “I never meant for you to… I mean, I didn’t think you’d see—”

“I did see,” you interrupted gently, standing up and moving around the coffee table to sit directly beside her on the couch. The closeness sent a jolt of electricity through her body. “And I’m not upset, Karina.”

Her head snapped up, eyes wide in confusion. “You’re not?”

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “No. If anything…” You leaned in, your voice dropping to a whisper, “It made things clearer for me.”

Karina’s breath hitched, her heart beating wildly in her chest as your words hung in the air. The proximity between you was almost suffocating, the heat radiating from your body making her feel dizzy.

“Clearer?” she asked, her voice trembling.

You nodded slowly, your gaze never wavering. “I’ve noticed how you look at me, Karina. How you react when I’m close. I didn’t want to cross that line either, but seeing you like that…” You paused, letting the weight of your words sink in. “It made me realize I want this just as much as you do.”

Karina’s world tilted on its axis. She had been consumed by guilt, certain that her feelings were one-sided and inappropriate, but here you were, confessing that you felt the same pull toward her. Her breath caught in her throat as she searched your eyes for any hint of uncertainty, but all she saw was raw desire.

“I…” Karina’s words failed her, her mind spinning as she tried to comprehend what was happening. She wanted to say something, anything, but the only thing she could think about was how close you were—how easy it would be to close the gap between you.

"Don't say anything. You can leave now. See you at the office and have a good Chuseok." You stood up, the moment hanging heavy in the air, charged with the unspoken tension that enveloped you both. Karina remained seated, her eyes wide, still trying to process your confession. The room felt smaller, the air thicker, and every heartbeat echoed in the silence between you.

“Wait—” Karina finally managed, her voice barely above a whisper. She looked up at you, desperation mingling with uncertainty. “You can’t just leave it like that. You can’t just drop a bombshell and walk away!”

You hesitated, your hand resting on the back of the chair as you turned to face her. “What do you want me to say? I’ve been trying to keep things professional, but this… whatever this is between us… it’s becoming impossible to ignore.”

Karina stood, the urgency in her movements belying the vulnerability she felt. “I don’t want to ignore it. I want to understand it. I want to understand us.”

You took a deep breath, the weight of her words sinking in. You’d never imagined you would find yourself in this position, torn between your responsibilities as her boss and the undeniable chemistry that crackled between you. “I’m afraid of what this means. I don’t want to jeopardize your career, or mine,” you admitted, your voice softer now.

Karina stepped closer, her determination shining through. “I’m not worried about that. I’ve wanted this for so long. Just… give me a chance to show you that it can work. That we can make this work.”

Her earnestness tugged at something deep within you. You wanted to say yes, to take a leap into the unknown with her. But the weight of your positions, the risks involved—it all held you back.

“Just… give me time to think,” you finally replied, your voice tinged with regret. “I need to sort through my feelings and figure out what this means for us.”

“Okay,” Karina said, her voice low but resolute. “I’ll wait. Just don’t take too long.”

As you walked toward the door, you felt her gaze on your back, a hopeful one. You paused for a moment, glancing back at her. “Enjoy your Chuseok, Karina. I hope it’s a good one.”

With that, Karina stepped out of the house, the door clicking shut behind her.

━━━━━━☆━━━━━━

All of that led you both to this moment a month and half later, each of you unable to keep your eyes off each other. Karina had taken things to a new level; her outfits had transformed into a tantalizing display that left little to the imagination. The long pencil skirt that once fell to her knees now clung to her curves, shortened just enough to drive your thoughts wild. The first three buttons of her blouse were undone, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of her cleavage—a line that beckoned your gaze like a forbidden invitation.

During meetings, you found it increasingly difficult to concentrate. Her confidence was intoxicating, and every sly glance exchanged felt charged with the thrill of the secret you both held. When the office was quiet, Karina would often approach you, her steps deliberate as she approached your desk with that playful smile that promised trouble.

“Need a little help?” she’d tease, leaning just close enough for you to catch a whiff of her floral perfume, a mix of sweetness and seduction that sent shivers down your spine.

You’d look up, pretending to be busy with work, though every fiber of your being was attuned to her presence. “I’m fine,” you’d reply, your voice betraying a hint of tension.

But she wouldn’t let it go. As the days went on, Karina found ways to brush against you as she leaned over your desk, her hands lightly grazing your arm while she offered suggestions on projects. The massages she gave you were discreet, her fingers kneading your shoulders just enough to bring you back to the moment yet leaving you craving more. The thrill of being caught made every touch feel electric, the boundaries of your professional relationship bending with each fleeting moment.

One afternoon, as the sun streamed through the office windows, casting a warm glow over everything and once again, everybody left, Karina slipped into your office with an almost predatory grace. She closed the door behind her, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I thought we could use a little break,” she said, her voice a sultry whisper that made your pulse quicken.

“What kind of break?” you asked, attempting to keep your tone steady, but the question hung in the air, heavy with anticipation.

With a smirk, she stepped closer, her hands finding your shoulders, fingers digging in as she started to massage you. The pressure was firm, yet gentle, and you could feel the tension of the day melting away under her skilled hands. “The kind that helps you unwind,” she murmured, leaning in closer. You could feel her breath against your ear, the warmth of her body radiating just inches from you.

You closed your eyes for a moment, allowing yourself to sink into the sensation. But the reality of your situation crashed back down. “Karina, we can’t—”

“Can’t what?” she interrupted, her tone teasing, yet a glimmer of seriousness flickered in her gaze. “Can’t enjoy what we both want?”

The boldness of her words sent your heart racing. You opened your eyes to find her staring at you with an intensity that made it hard to breathe. “This is risky,” you warned, though your voice lacked conviction. The truth was, you wanted her—needed her—but the repercussions of crossing that line were terrifying.

“Maybe it’s time to take that risk,” she replied, her fingers pausing as she searched your eyes for a sign of hesitation. “What if it could be more than just… this?”

Her words hung between you, filled with promise and temptation. In that moment, with the door locked and the world outside fading away, you realized the only thing standing in your way was fear. Karina was offering you something thrilling, something that could change everything.

Taking a deep breath, you weighed your options, your heart pounding in your chest. “What do you have in mind?” you finally asked her eyes shinning as she left your shoulder alone.

"I want to take control," she said, her voice low and sultry, laced with a challenge. The way she said it sent a shiver down your spine, awakening a part of you that craved surrender.

“Take control?” you repeated, laughing a little. “You really think you can?”

"What do you even question that? You’ll know it if you give me the chance, boss," she replied, her confidence unwavering.

You arched an eyebrow, intrigued by her boldness. “And what exactly does that entail? You think you can just waltz in here and take charge?”

Karina stepped closer, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh, I don’t just think about it—I know it. You’ve felt it too, haven’t you? The way I make you feel? All that tension building between us?”

Her words struck a chord within you. The tension was undeniable; every encounter, every lingering touch had only added fuel to the fire. “Okay, let’s say I’m intrigued,” you admitted, trying to keep your tone light, though the seriousness of the situation settled over you like a heavy blanket. “What’s your plan?”

"I'm starting like this." Karina grabbed the back of your neck, her lips connecting with yours in a surprising kiss.

The sensation hit you like a jolt of electricity, igniting every nerve ending as she pressed into you, her warmth enveloping you completely. It was unexpected but thrilling, a rush of passion that sent your heart racing. You found yourself leaning into the kiss, your hands instinctively moving to her waist, drawing her even closer.

Karina deepened the kiss, her mouth moving against yours with a fervor that took your breath away. It felt both exhilarating and forbidden, the world outside fading as you lost yourself in the moment. You could taste the sweetness of her lips, a tantalizing promise of everything that could unfold between you.

As the kiss lingered, you felt her fingers tighten around your neck, grounding you in the dizzying rush of desire. Every worry about the implications of this moment melted away, leaving only the raw need that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long.

Finally, Karina pulled back slightly, her breath mingling with yours, her eyes dark with desire. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” she teased, a satisfied smile playing on her lips.

"Oh, shut up," you shot back playfully, your need for her burning brighter than ever. This time, it was your turn. You leaned in, capturing her lips in a heated kiss.

Karina moaned into the kiss, and as you introduced your tongue into her mouth, the taste of her sweetness consumed you. You hissed as she playfully bit down on your tongue, the mix of pleasure and pain igniting a deeper craving within you.

In one swift motion, she pulled off the coat of your suit, casting it aside like it was nothing. The sudden exposure of your blouse made your heart race, but you didn’t have time to process it before she ripped the buttons off, leaving your blouse gaping open.

“Karina!” you gasped, a mix of shock and exhilaration washing over you.

“I’m buying you another one,” she replied with a wicked grin, her voice dripping with mischief. With that, she tossed your bra aside, her mouth immediately finding one of your nipples.

The sensation of her warm mouth enveloping you sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You couldn’t help but arch your back, pressing into her as she expertly teased and tugged with her lips. Every flick of her tongue made you gasp, each pull drawing you deeper into a haze of desire.

You were losing yourself in the moment, your mind swirling with sensations as you surrendered to her completely. The office, the risk, everything outside faded into oblivion. All that mattered was the heat building between you, the way she took charge and the way you willingly followed. Her fingers moved deftly to the zipper of your skirt, pulling it down and letting it pool around your ankles. The cool air rushed against your skin, mixing with the heat radiating from your core, which only heightened your arousal.

As the skirt dropped to the floor, you felt her fingers slide down your thighs, coating them with the wetness that had begun to gather at your entrance. It sent a shiver up your spine, and you couldn’t help but gasp at the sensation. The anticipation was almost unbearable; you wanted her to take you, to fill that yearning space inside you.

“Sit on the desk,” she commanded, her voice low and sultry. Without hesitation, you did as she said, climbing onto the polished surface. The cool wood felt exhilarating against your heated skin, and you leaned back slightly, watching her with eager eyes.

Karina started to take off her own clothes, slowly peeling away the layers that separated you. She was intoxicating, her confidence radiating as she left only her bra and underwear on. With a practiced grace, she gathered her hair into an updo, ensuring not a single strand fell across her face. The sight of her—barely clothed, focused, and so undeniably in control—made your heart race.

“Karina…” you breathed, your voice laced with need.

Without responding, she got on her knees, her face hovering just in front of your entrance. The proximity made your breath hitch, every nerve ending alive with anticipation. The moment felt electric, as if the very air around you crackled with tension.

“Are you ready for this?” she asked, her voice a sultry whisper that sent a jolt of excitement through you.

You nodded, unable to form coherent words, your mind too consumed with the sensation of having her so close. “Just give it to me,” you finally managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Needy girl,” she replied, her eyes darkening with hunger. She leaned in closer, her breath warm against your sensitive skin, and you could feel every ounce of her intention radiating toward you.

Her tongue darted out, teasingly brushing against your entrance, sending a rush of sensation through your body. You gasped, instinctively pushing your hips forward, craving more of her touch. Karina grinned, clearly enjoying your reaction, and with a gentle but firm grip, she held your thighs apart, making sure you were completely open for her.

With deliberate slowness, she began to explore you with her tongue, swirling and teasing as she expertly drew out every moan that slipped past your lips. You couldn’t help but writhe on the desk, your body responding to her every movement, each flick and caress sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

“Karina,” you gasped, the name escaping your lips like a prayer. “That feels so good.”

She responded by intensifying her ministrations, adding pressure and speed as she buried her face deeper between your thighs. The world around you blurred, every thought dissolving into pure ecstasy. You could feel the knot of tension tightening within you, ready to unravel at any moment.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” she murmured against you, the vibrations of her voice sending another wave of pleasure shooting through your body. “So responsive.”

You gripped the edge of the desk, your knuckles turning white as you fought to keep your composure. It was becoming increasingly difficult to maintain any semblance of control. “I’m close,” you breathed, your voice trembling with urgency.

“Let go,” she urged, her tone both commanding and coaxing. “I’ve got you.”

With those words, you surrendered completely to the pleasure, allowing yourself to be swept away in the tide of sensation. Every flick of her tongue, every gentle suckle sent you spiraling closer to the edge. The world faded away completely; there was only you and Karina, entwined in this moment of unrestrained desire.

As she worked you closer to the brink, you felt the tension building higher and higher, your body coiling like a spring ready to snap. “Karina! I can’t hold on much longer!” you cried out, your voice echoing in the quiet office.

“Come on, baby,” she murmured, her eyes locking onto yours with a smoldering intensity. “Let it all out. I want to feel you come apart for me.”

With a final flick of her tongue, she sent you over the edge. A rush of pleasure flooded through you, and you gasped as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over your body. You cried out her name, the sound echoing in the air as you felt yourself surrender completely, unraveling in her grasp.

Karina didn’t relent, continuing to pleasure you through your climax, her tongue coaxing every last bit of sensation from you until you were left breathless and trembling on the desk.

“Lay on the desk, you’re going to eat me out,” she commanded, her tone leaving no room for argument. With a swift motion, she pushed everything off your desk, scattering papers and office supplies to the floor without a second thought. You barely registered the chaos as your heart raced with excitement and anticipation.

As you settled back onto the desk, you watched her climb up, her movements fluid and enticing. The sight of her—the way she gracefully positioned herself—only added to your arousal. She leaned down, capturing your lips in a messy, passionate kiss. You could taste yourself on her lips, the mingling flavors driving you wild. It was intoxicating, and you found yourself melting into her touch.

She separated from you to take her panties off, making you lick your lips in anticipation. Karina positioned herself, kneeling on the desk at the side of your face, exposing her glistening core to you. You could see how she was clenching around nothing, her body eager and ready for your touch.

“Come on, boss. Own me,” she urged, her voice sultry and filled with need. You grabbed her thighs, feeling the heat radiating from her skin, and pushed her down, your mouth finally making contact with her entrance. As your tongue brushed against her, her hands went straight to your hair, fingers gripping tightly as she gasped for air.

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl,” she breathed, her words igniting a fire deep within you. You felt the thrill of pleasure radiate through you at her praise, pushing you to dive deeper into her sweetness.

You began to lick and tease her, your tongue exploring her folds with an eager hunger. Each stroke was met with a delightful response from Karina, her moans sending vibrations of pleasure through you. You could feel her body responding, the way her hips instinctively moved toward your mouth, urging you to take her deeper.

As you continued, you found a rhythm that seemed to drive her wild. The taste of her arousal filled your senses, intoxicating and addictive. You focused on her clit, swirling your tongue around the sensitive nub, watching as her body reacted with every flick and teasing stroke.

“Just like that,” she encouraged, her voice a mix of desperation and delight. “Don’t stop.”

You loved the way she felt beneath you, the way her body writhed with pleasure as you brought her closer to the edge. Her hands tangled in your hair, pulling you closer as if trying to mold you into exactly what she needed. Each gasp and moan fueled your desire to give her everything you had.

“Please, don’t hold back,” she begged, her voice trembling with urgency. “Fuck me, please.”

With a wicked grin, you lifted your gaze to meet hers, locking eyes as you plunged your tongue deeper inside her. The sight of her pleasure, the way her back arched and her breath quickened, drove you to push harder, to give her every ounce of pleasure you could muster.

Karina’s gasps turned into cries, each one a beautiful melody that echoed in the dimly lit office. You loved the power of bringing her to this point, of watching her unravel before you. “You taste so good,” you murmured against her, the vibrations only intensifying the sensations coursing through her.

“God, I’m so close,” she cried out, her voice strained as she clung to you. “Don’t stop, don’t you dare stop!”

You obliged, working your tongue with renewed vigor, alternating between teasing licks and deep thrusts as you sought to bring her to the brink. Her body quivered, her breaths coming in short, desperate gasps as you coaxed her toward the edge.

“Cum for me, Karina,” you urged, your voice dripping with lust as you gave a spank in each of her asscheeks, causing her to jump. “Can you also be a good slut?.”

With that encouragement, you felt her tighten around you, her body trembling as the pleasure surged through her. “Oh my God, yes!” she cried, her voice echoing in the quiet room as she let go, her orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave.

You savored the moment, relishing the taste of her release as it washed over your tongue. Karina’s body shook beneath you, the sound of her moans filling your ears as you continued to pleasure her through the waves of ecstasy.

Finally, as her body began to relax, you pulled back, gazing up at her with a satisfied grin. “You were incredible,” you said, your heart racing from the intensity of the experience.

Karina looked down at you, breathless and flushed, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction. “You have no idea how much I needed that,” she replied, a smile breaking across her face.

You couldn’t help but return her smile, the connection between you deeper than ever. “I think I’m starting to understand,” you said, your voice soft but filled with promise.

"Let's go to my place," Karina said, her face still showing the bliss of the moment.

"Can I ask why?" you said, smiling at her state.

"I have a double penetration dildo and a strap on I want to use on you,"

↷ 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚢'𝚜 note: first wlw work, kinda nervous. Also this work will have 3 parts, this is the 1/3 🦋

[lyrefromthesea]

Kinktober - Dry Humping with Rengoku

author's note: I felt the urge to participate in this year's kinktober, but I can't find the energy to write a story for each day. I will just throw in pieces of fiction when I feel like it.

pairing: Kyojuro Rengoku x reader

warnings: nsfw, dry humping, cumming, Rengoku being inexperienced

You couldn't complain about your boyfriend, he made you happy in every way possible. Cooking, playing, talking - it was easy to find a dynamic with him.

Was there anything your boyfriend wasn't good in? After months of your relationship, you seriously began to doubt it. Yes, he had a habit of talking loudly, but that wasn't a grand flaw. Besides, you did find it endearing.

Nevertheless, you promised to help him should a situation arise where he needed it. It's just that you were more than surprised when he told you about his virginity one day.

Of course you weren't judging him for not having slept with another person, but the confidence he displayed had simply made this scenario unimaginable for you. "It's nothing to be ashamed of."

"I am not, I have been waiting for the right person. I am glad we found each other!" He answered, his optimism made you smile. Yet questions still bubbled up in you, he had been way too flustered when he told you.

"Then why were you so shy about it?" You asked, holding his hands to comfort the man. The mild blush that had tinted his cheeks darkened in hue, revealing that something was up before he even got the chance to admit it himself.

"I was hoping.. you would help me.." he started, swallowing down the shyness trying to hold him back. He met your gaze, fierce determination setting in.

"Should the day arise when we decide to do.. when you're ready to fully indulge in our relationship! I'm not sure how to start, I want you to guide us - me - through this."

His words made your own cheeks heat up in embarrassment. You probably knew more about this than him, he was right, but were you able to take charge for the sake of your relationship?

"Of course." Your answer came before you could comprehend your decision, yet you didn't pull back. The way he encouragingly squeezed your hand told you everything would work out in the end.

That conversation had been a few months ago. Three or four? You weren't sure. You were too focused on Rengoku, whose legs you were straddling with your own right now.

The tie in his hair had come lose from all your kissing, eventually sliding down and letting his hair fall freely. It was a welcome change, allowing you to tug on his locks whenever your kisses became more heated.

"Kyo.." you muttered against his lips, watching his eyes lazily open. He had been much too focused on the sensation of your tongue pressing and swirling against his own. He answered with a small hum, meeting your gaze.

"Are you sure about this..?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. perhaps the question had been needless. His uniform was unbuttoned and slipped down his arms, the fabric pooling by his elbows. You weren't any better, only wearing a yukata and undergarments.

He didn't answer, chasing your lips instead. You understood him, even without words, diving into your shared kiss again. It wasn't hard to feel the bulge in his pants, telling of how desperately he wanted this too.

In a moment of need, you began rocking your hips against him, making his body tense in surprise. He broke the kiss once more, a quiet grunt leaving his parted lips.

"Little flame.. g- gods.." his hips involuntary pressed up, trying to gain more of the sweet friction you were blessing him with. he swore he could feel himself against your most sensitive parts, just like you could feel yourself grinding against the imprint of his cock.

you momentarily forget the needy kisses you have been sharing, instead working yourself into the perfect position to enjoy this moment. his hands tightened around your waist, unsure of why you lightly twisted your hips occasionally, but certainly welcoming the sparks of pleasure it shot through his body.

"T- this.. this feels good.." you finally moaned, trying to copy the movement you have made beforehand, more moans escaping your lips when you successfully found the right rhythm.

"I'm glad you enjoy- oh gods- you like this too.." his head dropped backwards, exposed throat giving you a view of his defined neck. his adam's apple bopping.

You leaned forward, not caring about how your yukata nearly slipped off when your chest pressed against his. Your lips found his neck, sucking on the milky skin.

The action clearly took him by surprise, his hips stuttering up. "If you do it like that, I-"

"Oh, f- fuck.." he cursed, the vulgar language making you stop and look at him. he was panting heavily, his groan filling your ears when the combined pleasure took over his mind.

He let his head fall forward again, resting it against your shoulder as he tried coming down from the exceptional feeling.

"I.. I think I just came.." he panted, feeling you slowly come to a stop. your lips were parted, trying to catch your breath.

Truthfully, you had known how this would rile him up, he wasn't used to this after all. However, you didn't expect him to cum so easily, especially not while still wearing his uniform pants.

"Are you tired..? We can stop-" you offered, but we're quickly cut off by his arms fully wrapping around you. He pulled you even closer to himself, his eyes locking onto yours.

"I'm not, I can still- still continue. Show me how I can make you feel good too, please."

You could feel your skin heating up with his words, your heartbeat picking up. How could you say no to such a request?

[requiemforthepoets]

always be my baby 𖦹 CS55

PAIRINGS: carlos sainz x singer!reader

SUMMARY: It was seven years ago when you last saw each other, it was also seven years ago that you had made a mutual decision that it is best if you both go your own ways. But in those seven years, you never expected that he’ll be leaving you half of him, making it harder for you to completely move on, but jokes on you, you’re still pretty much in love with him. Seven years later, you never expected you’ll be meeting him again, bringing back unresolved feelings and repercussions of the past decisions back to the forefront.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this is my first time writing an f1 imagine, so I hope you guys will like it. this is just a product of brainrot at 3am. i’m sorry if there will be a typo and I also used mariah carey’s (which whom I love so much) song heh

TERMS: solntse - sunshine/ray of sunshine ; schast’ye - happiness ; dyadya - uncle

REMINDER: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect to the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WORD COUNT: 4.2k

WARNINGS: typos and angst

LAS VEGAS

The place where you had been residing for the past seven years, and where you had decided to raise your lovely twins, Thiago and Gabriela, after you and Carlos had parted ways.

Seven years ago, you had been in love with the Carlos Sainz. During that time, he was already starting his F1 journey, with his dreams as big as the tracks he conquered. Though your passion for each other was certainly undeniable, but so were both of your ambitions. So when you had discovered that you were pregnant, you had hoped that it would further cement the bond that you both had. But instead, it shattered your dreams. Carlos had flat out rejected the thought of you being pregnant, and admitted that he wasn’t ready for fatherhood, not now that his racing career is starting to take off. The heart-wrenching decision to part ways had been mutual, yet very agonizing for you.

After your split, you had cut off everyone that is connected with Carlos, even his family—Carlos Sr., Reyes, Blanca, and Ana, whom that had loved you very dearly. They had always been teasing both you and Carlos on how you two would certainly end up marrying each other, but apparently the opposite had happened. Leaving you all alone to navigate the challenges of single parenthood. But you didn’t have to worry of being alone your entire life, your parents, brother, and your sister-in-law had been there for you, helping you every step of the way.

The pregnancy had also prompted you to have a seven year hiatus from the music industry, leaving your fans to wonder when you’ll be coming back. You had focused all of your energy in being a hands on parent to Thiago and Gabriela, but not forgetting to write a new song in your free time when you got a new inspiration for a new album that you had been setting aside. This routine has been going on for seven years, until you had finally released your comeback album last month, where it had taken over the world by storm and had an incredible amount of success that peaked number one in different countries. No one had expected you to drop an album out of nowhere, not when you had been radio silent for over seven years, with a little bit of life update on your instagram account.

Not a week later after your comeback album had been released, you had been offered to a concert residency at Caesar’s Palace, which you had gladly accepted. The prospect of touring scares you as of the moment, so you had decided that doing a show every weekend in the same place and time would much suit you better for the time being. You prefer to have an intimate time with your fans right after your seven year hiatus—which they rightfully deserve of not seeing you for how many years, instead of diving head first at the thought of touring.

So here you are now, it’s the opening night of your concert residency in Las Vegas. You are waiting at the backstage of the Colosseum, watching the dimmed lights of the Colosseum glistened off of the opulent decor. You can hear the buzz of excitement of the eager fans that are excited to see you perform live again after seven years had filled the air. Your heart pounding with a mix of excitement and nerves. It has been years since you had last performed on stage again, you’re praying to the gods that you don’t embarrass yourself, like forgetting the lyrics and tripping on stage.

As you took the stage, your powerful voice that you had always been known for had filled the colosseum, captivating everyone that is present. Your eyes had scanned the crowd, reconnecting with your fans that had waited for you in so long to see you again. For a fleeting moment, your eyes locked with with those familiar eyes that you would never forget in your life. Your heart skipped a bit, but you quickly regained your composure, acting like it did not affect you at all, telling yourself that it’s just your pure imagination, simply a ghost of christmas past, that it’s a different person and not him, and continued your performance, pouring all of your emotions. Singing songs from your new album, where it entails what you had been through for the last seven years, and performing a few songs from your old releases. Which had been a real treat for your fans.

Meanwhile, in the midst of the audience, an F1 racer sat among with his friends, his face showing admiration and a touch of nostalgia. Carlos had come to your show out of respect and curiosity, also because his friends are a fan of yours. When the first notes of one of the song in your setlist played, Carlos had felt a strange sense of familiarity. His mind took him back to a memory of you playing the same song on the piano for him, where you had just began drafting the lyrics for your supposed to be new album that time. But he shook it off and convinced himself that it can’t be you. His memories of yours had been a blur to him, especially when he had lost contact with you. Seven years has been a lot of years for him, and he was sure that you had changed a lot during those years.

During the interlude, before you perform the next song, you had decided to connect with the audience. Entertaining them a little bit. Since it was your opening night, your family came with you in full support, including the twins. They are currently in the private area of the venue, and not forgetting that you had planned something special for your opening night. Hoping that everyone in the audience will like it.

“Las Vegas, how are you doing tonight!” You asked, causing the audience to cheer. “Wow. A whole seven years, huh.” You laughed as the rest of the audience laughed with you as well.

“It feels really good to be back again and performing in front of you all. To be honest, I was so nervous of performing again with a live audience. But once I stepped onto the stage, everything had flowed in naturally, like a muscle memory.” You smiled.

“I must admit though, the past seven years had never been really easy for me. During those years, I can say that there was a LOT going on at that time.”

It was indeed a never easy seven years for you. The entire world had gotten a whiff of your pregnancy, and you had been a cover of various gossip magazines and topic of various podcasts. You and your family had been trying to fight off paparazzis that were following you around and wanted to get some scoop. When it was time for the twins to come out into the world, you and your family made sure that no media or paparazzis will profit off of it. You are very strict and serious when it comes to your twins’ privacy, and not letting the world know of their identity. It’s also a lie when you say that those gossip headlines does not hurt or affect you at all, headlines like—

‘greatest female powerhouse singer of this generation had been knocked up?! No wedding ring visible��could it be a one night stand?!’

It really hurt and pissed you off.

Your pregnancy was never a secret to the world. It was private, but never a secret. But you cannot say the same in your and Carlos’ past relationship, your whole relationship had been a secret from the start, you both don’t want the media nor the paparazzis to meddle in your relationship, and it was a mutual decision. So when you got pregnant, the media couldn’t link you to anyone that could’ve gotten you pregnant. Up until now, the media doesn’t have any clue as to who the twins’ father is, and you inted to keep it that way.

But you know very well that you can’t hide the fact that Thiago is slightly starting to look like his dad, Carlos. While Gabriela took on your features, that there is completely nothing denying that Thiago and Gabriela are both you and Carlos’ mini me. For sure the media is bound to form a speculation as the twins grow up, but you intend to keep the obvious fact hidden for as long as you can. This exposure of the twins in your concert will be a really big one. Hoping that you’ll be able to contain the aftermath of it.

“This next song is from the new album, and as you all know, if you listen to the whole album, it’s basically all about my journey, of what everything that had happened during those years.” You smiled at the crowd.

“I know that there are a lot of people that has different interpretations of the song, which I really loved reading, by the way! I had read some of it and it was all really nice, thank you!” You chuckled.

“I intentionally did not want to include this one on the setlist, because its a personal one. I know what you’re all thinking, why put it on album if it’s a personal song. For me it’s okay to be included in the album, but performing the song…it really hits home.” You explained, “but I had changed my mind and added it the last minute, and thought about how I wanted to just turn it into a positive one.” the crowd cheered.

“I also have a special guests with me, that will help me sing this song because I’m dedicating this to them. This is their song.”

You had turned back your attention towards the backstage and check if the twins are all ready to make their special appearance, but the crew had signaled you that the twins will be joining you in two minutes top since they are still getting ready.

“I want to make this opening night of my concert residency a bit special, so that’s why I’m having a very very very special guests with me.” You smiled widely.

“They had been really begging me to join on this one, which even caught me by surprise because they had already practiced for it even before they could ask if they could join me! Can you guys believe it? They are actually really prepared for it!” You said in disbelief, as the audience laughed.

“Then they explained to me why they want to do it, they said that it’s because I will be performing again for the first time after seven years, and they wanted to make it feel more special.” You put your hands over your heart, with a soft expression showing in your face. So touched on what the twins had told you the reason they wanted to perform with you live on stage.

You turned your attention again backstage to see if the twins are already, and they already are, they are just waiting for your queue for them to enter the stage. You had signaled the band to start playing the song and your fabulous four, which is what you call your backup singers, started harmonizing the intro of the song.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” you announced, “I’d like to introduce my two very special guests tonight. My twins, Thiago and Gabriela!”

Everyone in the Colosseum cheered very loudly, they couldn’t believe that your twins would make an appearance in your opening night. It is the first time that your fans, rather the world have seen your twins, considering that you are a very private person and you wouldn’t want your twins be exposed, you wanted them to grow up and have a normal childhood. But considering your status, you are making triple efforts to safeguard your twins.

The twins bounded onto the stage, being guided by your mom, jumping up and down, their overall energy just being so infectious as they joined you for a rendition of your song. You looked at your twins in awe, pure happiness radiating off from the twins, their eyes sparking as the audience cheers loudly for them.

“Thank you so much, momma!” You thanked your mom as you gently grabbed each of their hand and guiding them to the center stage.

“Mommy, there’s so many people!” Gabriela whispered cutely onto the mic, and the audience awed.

“Woah!” Followed by Thiago, completely fascinated.

“There are indeed a lot of people, isn’t it schast’ye?” You said, “They are really excited to see you both tonight!”

The twins squealed in excitement, the thought of people wanting to see them had made them jump again out of excitement.

“Theo, we’re famous!” Gabriela shouted happily, causing the audience to have another laugh.

“When can we sing mommy?” Thiago asked, as the audience cheered.

“We’ll be singing now, solntse.” You laughed, as the band started to play the music a bit louder. “This next song is called Always Be My Baby, and I dedicate this song to my wonderful angels that is with me here tonight on the stage. Solntse, schast’ye, this is your song. I dedicated this to both of you, mommy loves you so much.”

“We were as one, babe, for a moment in time,” you began singing, looking at the twins lovingly, “and it seemed everlasting, that you would always be mine. Now you want to be free, so I’m lettin’ you fly.” You looked at the audience.

“‘Cause I know in my heart babe, our love will never die—okay my loves, here comes your part!”

“You’ll always be a part of me,” Gabriela started, “I’m part of you indefinitely.” Thiago followed.

You are looking at them lovingly, with a proud smile etched on your face.

“Boy don’t you know you can’t escape me, oh darlin’ ‘cause you’ll always be my baby.” They both sang together.

Truth be told, you had written this song for Carlos, an ode to your relationship. It would be a lie if you said that you had completely moved on from him, but you truly did not, it still pains you every time you see him with another partner, and knowing how you both had children out of wedlock. How can you even move on when he left you half of him, he blessed you with two beautiful angels that you would never trade anything for the world, and would always choose to be their mother in every lifetime. Though for you, it doesn’t matter if you had already split up, Carlos will always own your heart.

“I ain’t gonna cry, no, and I won’t beg you to stay. If you’re determined to leave boy, I will not stand in your way,” at some point, you had made an eye contact again with those familiar eyes, but quickly avert your attention to the audience, “but inevitably, you’ll be back again, ‘cause you know in my heart, babe, our love will never end no.”

The twins sang the whole chorus, and you let them. They really love the chorus of your song, so it’s fitting that they are ones who sing it, but sometimes you harmonize with them. As the end of the song is approaching, you and the twins had sang it altogether.

“‘Cause you’ll always be my baby.” Spreading out an arm to the twins, as the twins rushed to give you a tight hug.

Your and the twins’ giggles had been heard from the mic, you gave both them a kiss om their foreheads, and the whole audience errupted in cheers and stood up for a standing ovation.

“Give it up once again for the twins, ladies and gentlemen!” After the twins’ performance, they were guided back by the crew backstage.

“Bye mommy!” The twins said in unison.

“Bye my babies!” You said, as both of the twins blew a flying kiss at you, and you returned back the sweet gesture.

You continued on performing, and you finally reached the last song of your setlist before you conclude your opening night.

“Okay, the last song I’d like to sing for you, it’s called Dreamlover,” you smiled, “and I just would like to thank everyone for being here with me, and tell you that I love each and everyone of you! You can all stand up and dance if you’d like!”

As the band started playing the notes to your song, everyone stood up and danced. You decided to go down the stage and interact with your fans. A security guided you to get around the venue, once you are comfortable, you walked around the venue and hugging some fans, and taking selfies with you. You also shook hands with some of them.

“Hello there!” You said into the mic as you looked up to the people that are seated in the balcony area of the venue, “yes, I see you all up there and you all are looking very lovely tonight!”

You continued interacting with your fans, when a little girl come up to you and gave you a hug. Touched from the little girl’s action, you immediately hugged her back, and she gave you a cute little bear.

“Is this for me?” She nodded, “thank you so much! This is a very lovely gift!” She then went back to her parents and you waved at them.

As you continued walking and singing, handshaking fans and hugging them—you did not recognize that you’re getting closer at the section where Carlos and his friends were seated. There was a brief panic in your eyes, when you saw Carlos—literally there standing, flesh and blood, the father of your children, standing and enjoying the show with his friends. Simply you cannot ignore Carlos, as the media can conjure a bunch of speculations with the interactions and can use it against you. Media people can be ruthless if they want to and create unnecessary drama if you choose to try and ignore Carlos.

So you continued singing and decided to interact with his friends by giving them a smile and each of them a handshake, Carlos will be the last one you’ll interact with since he’s seated at the last seat of their row. Some of his friends are familiar faces with you, since your brother is a huge F1 fan and had been to many grand prix before. You can identify some his friends—Charles, Lando, Max, Lewis, and Daniel. You also just noticed that they also brought their girlfriends with them, since they had took a photo with you.

Then you had finally reached Carlos. It felt like everything was in slow motion and your heart was beating rapidly, felt like it’s gonna leap our of your chest anytime, but you kept your cool. You smiled at him and briefly shook his hand. Apparently he’s the last one you’ll interact with before going back to the stage. As you went back up to the stage, a fan had called out for you, wanting to give you a rose, the fan is a bit far from you and you wanted to accept the rose from the fan, you went back down of the stage again, but you had never expected that Carlos will be the one that will give you the fan’s rose, he had helped the fan get the rose to reach you. You never got to thank him, since the security is already ushering you back to the stage.

At this very moment, Carlos was internally scolding himself, telling himself why the hell did he just do that. In his defense, he just acted out of impulse, and wanted to help a fan. Charles slightly slapped his back and wiggled his eyebrows at Carlos, and Carlos just rolled his eyes at him. His action did not go unnoticed by his friends and everyone in their section.

“Smooth operator, huh.” Charles teased him.

“Shut up.”

“Thank you so much for the rose.” You said to the fan and wave at them. As the song ended, you thanked everyone again for coming.

“Thank you once again for coming, see you again next weekend. Good night!” You said and had exited the stage.

After the show, celebrity and personal friends of yours that had attended your show was invited backstage, as a special privilege for them now that you’re now back in the music industry. In which Carlos and his friends were also invited backstage. You began talking to everyone, and how they congratulated you for a successful opening night of your concert residency.

“We are really glad that you are now back in the industry, and here’s to many more successful concert residency!” A celebrity friend of yours said, followed by cheering from others.

You had excused yourself to look for the twins. The twins are sitting on the couch with your mother, playing on their ipads as your mother watches over them. As you make your way towards them, a hand had stopped you, a soft grip on your wrist. Turning back and looking at the hand that grabbed you, you saw that it was Carlos. He never fails to make your heart skip, at any given moment, you’ll have a heart attack because of him.

“(Y/N),” he breathed out, “it’s really you.”

“Carlos…hi.” Your reply came more of a whisper, but he still heard it. “What are you doing here?” There’s a surprise, mixed with wariness in your eyes.

Seeing and interacting with Carlos out there is one thing, but him in backstage and talking to you right now is a whole different thing. The gods have not fully prepared you with this encounter, you know that sooner or later you’ll face him, but not when you had just came back from your hiatus.

“I came to see the show, with my friends. They’re a fan of yours,” he said, his eyes shifting to the twins. “They were incredible…you’re incredible.”

“Thank you,” you replied, your voice becoming steady, but your heart still pounding.

Carlos took a deep breath, he noticed that he’s still gripping your wrist, so he softly detached his hands on your wrist.

“(Y/N), the twins…they look so much like you. There’s something…” he breathed, “I can’t help but feel there’s something you’re not telling me.”

Your gaze hardened slightly, but before you could respond, you felt small hands tugging your gown. As you looked behind, you saw Thiago staring at Carlos intently.

“Mommy, who is this man?” You put a hand behind your son’s back and caressed his back softly.

“This is uncle Carlos, solntse. Mommy’s old friend.” You smiled.

“Hey there, bud.” Carlos crouched down to Thiago’s level and greeted him.

“I know you!” Thiago blurted out, “you drive a fast car! My dyadya dislikes you!” He looked at Carlos with eye wide of fascination, but very blunt as ever.

“O-oh, yeah, I drive a fast car.” Carlos chuckled, dismissing what the other thing Thiago had said.

“Solntse, why don’t you go back to schast’ye for a while? Mommy will be right with you in a minute.” Thiago nodded.

“Bye uncle Carlos!”

“How old are they?” Carlos asked.

“Seven. They’re turning eight in a few months.”

Carlos’ heart skipped a beat, looking into your eyes, the weight of seven years of secrets and decisions hanging between them. You wanted to tell him so bad, but it is not the time yet, but you are sure that by now, just looking at Thiago, he has an idea that the twins are his.

“Never knew that you got married.” He blurted out, just for the sake of talking to you a little bit longer.

“I never married. It’s just me and the twins, marriage is not really in my roster at the moment, having the twins is already enough for me. I have a lot of things going on…yeah.”

“They must be a handful.”

“They are,” you said with a chuckle, looking back at the twins, “but they’re worth every second. They are my life, they’re the ones that saved me from losing myself.”

There was a long pause, the air thick with unspoken words. Carlos wanted to ask more, to understand the life that you had built, but something held him back.

“I wish you all the best.” He finally said, his voice tinged with sadness he couldn’t quite place.

“Thank you, Carlos.” You replied, her eyes searching his, “likewise.”

Just in time, one of his friends, Charles, informed Carlos that they’ll about to leave.

“Thank you so much for inviting us backstage of your show, we really had a great time tonight.” Charles thanked you.

“The pleasure is all mine.” You smiled as you shook his hands.

As they both walk away, Carlos couldn’t shake the feeling that somehow, he was missing a crucial piece of the puzzle. That something does not sit right with him. You watched him go, a single tear escaping your eye. The truth, and the twins’ parentage had been remained unspoken of. Hoping that one day both of you would get to sit down and have a proper talk, and when time permits, Carlos formally meets the twins.

[ssa-dado]

1 - Orchids & Knots

Aaron Hotchner x bau!reader

Genre: fluff

Summary: A young profiler, recently recruited by Jason Gideon, joins the BAU and works with experienced agents, including Hotch and Rossi, on a challenging case involving a methodical killer. Despite initial nervousness, you start to bond with Hotch through wit and shared work ethic, revealing unexpected personal sides along the intense investigation.

Warnings: Usual CM case described in detail, hideous use of one bedroom trope, Gissi implied as a joke

Word Count: 4.1k

Dado's Corner: first part of the upcoming series! Still have no clue of how many parts it could have, just expect a very slow burn. My other fic - Symposium (definitely not platonic love) - is part of the same universe, hence why reader is still a philosophy enthusiast. You can enjoy this pilot as its own or read it before or after Symposium. You do you. Again, I'm aware there might be some mistakes as English isn't my first language so bear with me.

part zero - reading optional, but strongly advised ; part two

Everyone who knew you had assumed you'd take an academic route in your professional life, perhaps becoming a professor or researcher, but something you couldn’t explain had always pulled you toward the darker corners of human behavior.

You weren't satisfied with just understanding the human mind, you wanted to see what happened when it broke.

Now, you were standing still on the elevator on your way to meet Jason Gideon, the legend who had recruited you after being impressed by your sharp mind during a lecture he held at the academy.

Maybe it was because of your passion to philosophy that made you a natural curious person, always asking – sometimes asking way too many – questions, never taking anything for granted.

After that lecture you understood that profiling was a subject that rewarded what many considered to be one of your most annoying flaws. Hence why another reason you probably decide to follow that specific path, out of all the others: you wanted to prove everyone wrong.

What many didn’t see though - and most of the times you didn’t even realise yourself - is that you questioned yourself and your decisions more than anything else. Although for once, trusting more your instincts rather than your reasoning to decide to work at the Bureau, somehow sweetly felt right.

“Y/N, right?” A deep voice cut through your thoughts. You turned to see Gideon standing beside a tall man, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit. His expression appeared stoic, yet his eyes - sharp and calculated - were the most striking feature about him, even more than the smoke coming from his ears as he was focusing all of his energies on you to read through your façade.

As you entered the barely lit bullpen, the weight of the moment hit you. The room was filled with agents, all seasoned professionals busy with their work, pouring over case files, dissecting behavioral patterns, and speaking in hushed tones about suspects and profiles. Their years of experience were palpable, but instead of shrinking, you felt a quiet resolve. You were aware you had something unique to offer - not to be cocky about it - and Gideon clearly thought so too, otherwise you wouldn’t be there.

You were trying your best to be as neutral as possible but you couldn’t deny you immediately felt a wave of adrenaline coursing through you. Knowing you were standing before one most formidable profilers the FBI had ever known and next to him the one you hypothesised to be the Bureau’s next rising star. There wouldn’t be any other plausible reasons for him to stand so close to Gideon otherwise, you thought.

“Yes, sir,” you responded, willing yourself to keep calm. Gideon had introduced you to the mystery man next to him – SSA Aaron Hotchner – or you-can-call-me-Hotch; For a moment you felt so uncool for not having a nickname yourself.

Hotch studied you further for a moment, his face unreadable, but you could tell he was intrigued. His nod was brief, but it felt like a form of acknowledgment.

Gideon smiled warmly. “Good to see you again, Y/N. I’ve been just telling Hotch here about your academic work, very impressive stuff. I’m sure the mix of philosophy, linguistics and psychology will give you quite of a unique lens for profiling.”

“Welcome to the team,” Hotch said simply, though his tone carried weight. With just a sentence he made sure to remind you that you weren’t just another recruit, you were expected to contribute. You hoped his remark would just point out at the overall high expectations everyone had of you, instead of him questioning your presence here due to your young age, less than a week passed from your 21st birthday.

"Thank you," you said, trying to balance out with professionalism. "I’m eager to get started."

Gideon gestured for you to follow him. "Come on, there’s someone else I want you to meet. David Rossi."

Your heart raced. David Rossi, the legend who had co-founded the BAU with the man standing next to you. The picture of you working with him felt surreal. As you, Hotch, and Gideon made your way to Rossi’s office, you could feel Hotch’s eyes still occasionally flicking toward you, still assessing, still quiet. His silence felt deliberate, as though he wanted to see how you carried yourself before making any judgments.

When you entered Rossi’s office, he looked up from his desk, his dark eyes locking onto yours. His presence was formidable, the kind of aura that came from decades of experience. For a brief moment, you felt like he was already profiling you, dissecting every nuance of your appearance and demeanor. Then, his face broke into a bright grin, and he stood, extending his hand.

"So, you’re the philosophy kid," Rossi said, his voice gruff but warm. "Gideon’s been talking your ear off about you."

Philosophy kid, as if you didn’t feel odd enough.

You shook his hand. "That’s me. Nice to meet you, Agent Rossi."

You smiled at that, already feeling some of the tension ebbing away in his presence. There was something about Rossi’s bluntness that was oddly reassuring. He was a man who spoke his mind, no pretense, no games.

"Dave," he corrected, flashing a grin. "‘Agent Rossi’ makes me sound like I could be your nonno. You can call me Dave."

"So, Gideon tells me you speak sixteen languages?" Rossi asked, raising an eyebrow. "How come? Ever consider becoming a spy?"

"Bisnonno" He quickly grinned, you had just entered his office and already flexing your Italian, he teased you first though. "Got it, Dave.". If there would have been one thing you had learnt throughout the brief 2 minutes you’ve been working at the BAU, is that profilers were no joke about their nicknames.

You laughed softly. "I was raised in a bilingual household, I have a thing for languages"

Hotch, who had been quiet up until now, finally spoke. "It’ll definitely come in handy in the field. We deal with a lot of international cases."

His voice was calm, measured. Although you had read his file; Hotch wasn’t just any profiler - he was methodical, relentless, and someone who had climbed the ranks through sheer dedication. His seriousness wasn’t arrogance, but a reflection of his deep commitment to the job.

Rossi leaned back slightly, his eyes now flicking over your outfit, your well-fitted total black three-piece suit. “I’ll say, I didn’t expect someone at 21 to show up looking more polished than half of the bureau. You sure you’re not here to give a lecture?”

You chuckled, feeling some of the tension melt away. "This is just my definition of business casual”

Gideon smiled but quickly shifted back to business. “I brought the two of you here in Dave’s office because we just got a tough case” He says gesturing towards you and Hotch “And I want all of us to be working together in on it”.

Rossi laughed, clearly enjoying your response. "Gideon, I think you found someone who might out-dress me."

Normally at the BAU they would either work solo or in pairs, sometimes they would even assest the case from the comfort of their own desk there in Quantico, if travelling was not deemed crucial to build the profile. Only when crime would be particularly complex, they would quicky assemble a team, a small task-force of sorts, take their go-bag with them and travel all across the country struggling more with the train connections rather than with the criminals themselves.

You ironically told yourself that there wouldn’t be a much better start on your new job, your heart raced with anticipation. "What’s the case?" You asked trying to mask the slight feeling of anxiety rushing through your veins.

In a matter of seconds, Gideon quicky exited the office and had already came back firmy holding a bunch of manila folders. He handed you a thick case file, and as you flipped through it, your stomach slightly churned, reminding you this wasn’t these weren’t just pictures on your textbooks.

The unsub had left seven bodies in three states, all bound with intricate knots, posed in ritualistic displays. Each victim had an orchid placed delicately on their chest, and despite the grotesque nature of the crimes, you found there was an eerie beauty in how the unsub treated his victims.

"The knots," Gideon explained, pointing to a photograph. "They’re not random. Each one is different, and each one requires a high level of skill. The unsub is precise, organized, and deliberate. He’s treating these murders like a performance."

These killings to you were manifest of the deeply rooted paradox in human experience - beauty and pain - where both often coexist or follow each other closely. You always found amusing how beauty, whether in art, nature, or human life, often emergeed through struggle or suffering.

You looked closely at the images, analyzing the intricacies of the knots, you feel the need to add something else. "It’s not just performance - it’s communication. The knots are sending a message. He’s not killing out of anger. There’s patience here. He wants control, and the orchids, those suggest he sees the victims as fragile, beautiful objects to be perfected, but ultimately destroyed."

Even historically, humankind tended to these opposites because they reflect the full range of life’s complexities, as joy often emerges from pain, and suffering can heighten the appreciation of beauty. You kept the philosophical monologue to yourself, you definitely didn’t want to reinforce even more the prejudice your teammates could already have on you, the lack of field expertise overly compensated by the knowledge of human nature.

Hotch leaned forward, his dark eyes narrowing slightly. "He’s someone with discipline, military or maybe maritime experience. The variety of knots points to a deeper knowledge of how they work. He’s not just tying them for show. He’s someone who understands the function of every twist and turn."

Rossi smiled at your analysis, clearly impressed. "Not bad. Not bad at all, philosopher. " You now started to suspect Gideon had overly gushed about this particular part of your background as it seemed to be the only thing your new co-workers remembered about you.

You nodded, your mind racing. "And the orchids, they aren’t just decorative. He’s choosing them for a reason. Orchids are notoriously difficult to grow. They’re delicate but require meticulous care, which suggests he sees himself as a cultivator. He picks his victims carefully, like someone choosing a rare flower, and when they don’t live up to his standards, he... prunes them."

The team continued to build the profile, each member adding layers of complexity. The unsub’s background became clearer: someone with a need for control, a perfectionist likely with some connection to floristry or horticulture. You felt a growing sense of camaraderie as you offered ideas and bounced theories off Hotch, who slowly began engaging with you more directly.

“They do act like an old married couple” Hotch hums in a low voice while pointing at Rossi and Gideon vividly arguing far away from the two of you about something you couldn’t grasp yet. You immediately chuckle at the sight, appreciating Hotch’s efforts to bond with you yet still being very reserved and shielding himself through his rare jokes.

A few days into the investigation, you found yourself paired with Hotch all the times, a tactic you knew Gideon pulled just to make you feel the most at ease, despite the overly reserved nature of your partner.

He continued, “See, they might made you think the fraternization rules exist because of Dave, what they didn’t tell you is that he’s probably secretly married with Gideon and apparently the latter today forgot about their anniversary”. You tried your best not to burst into laughing as the Italian man furiously walked towards the two of you, Gideon quick on his feet following him with an apologetic look on his face. Damn, Hotch might have been right, the similarities in the physical language to the scenario he previously mentioned was uncanny.

“The Bureau changed our accommodation, again.” Gideon sighed “They’ll soon send us the address, we have two rooms, two twin beds each, private bathroom” He ironically emphasised the last part, as if he was offering all of you the deal of your life.

“Budget cut again kiddos” Dave announced, oblivious of the reason why both of yours and Hotch's eyes were almost tearing up trying to hold in the laughters.

“Hood rats.” Rossi flamboyantly replied “So here’s another reason to end this case as soon as possible. Figli di puttana, There's no way I'm sleeping more with Jason rather than with my own wife”. Both you and Hotch gave each other a quick mischievous side-eye that could speak more than a thousand words. As the two of them moved away from you and Hotch enough so they wouldn’t hear your next words, you turned towards him. “Dave didn’t even offer us to sleep with him in his room, you actually might have been right all along”.

“I’m always right” He replied showing the dimples on his face.

“Typical lawyer behaviour, gaslighting their way just to be right in their own distorted reality.” You poke fun at him as you reminded he told you he used to work as a persecutor before landing into the Bureau.

Hotch definitely didn’t expect such a quick-witted comeback from you. “I wasn’t aware philosophers knew humor” he teased you.

“We patented it” you smirk.

You and Hotch later surveyed a potential crime scene—a floral shop the unsub had likely visited. As you both examined the area, you could feel Hotch's eyes on you, observing how you worked, how you processed information.

"You’re picking up on a lot for your first case," Hotch said, breaking the silence. "Most people miss the smaller details."

You looked over at him, surprised by the sudden compliment. "Thanks. I guess looking at things in an unorthodox way helps, all the hours spent on Plato apparently paid off"

Hotch nodded. "It shows. Keep it up."

Together, you reviewed the evidence, each of you adding to the emerging profile. You and Hotch began to form a pattern: he’d focus on the precision of the unsub’s actions, while you offered a more abstract perspective, thinking about the emotional motivations behind the crimes.

Later that evening, after a long day of chasing leads and trying to make sense of the tangled web the unsub had woven, you all finally were set into the new accommodation.

Despite Rossi’s earlier complaints about the budget cuts, the place wasn’t that bad - it was modest but clean, with enough space to spread out the case files and work. You and Hotch were indeed been paired up to share a room, as he previously predicted, with two twin beds crammed into a space that would feel much smaller once your notes and case materials were scattered all across the floor.

As soon as you entered the room, Hotch moved with military precision, setting down his go-bag and immediately pulling out a file. He glanced around briefly, as if taking in every detail of the room in a split second, then sat down at the small desk, already deep in thought.

You, on the other hand, sat on the edge of your bed for a moment, looking around and trying to shake off the fatigue that was creeping in. It was only your first case, and yet you felt the pressure building already - both from the weight of the crimes and from wanting to prove yourself in front of someone as formidable as Hotch. Despite the intensity of the case, you couldn’t help but be amused at the situation.

“So, do you believe their honeymoon suite is just as romantic as ours?” You asked with a smirk, hoping to lighten the mood.

Hotch didn’t look up immediately, as if puzzled on how to choose his next words, though you caught the slight twitch of his lips. “Yeah, nothing says romance like crime scene photos and case files scattered everywhere.”

You chuckled and tossed your jacket onto the back of a chair. “I always knew the FBI had a weird way of doing things, but I have to admit this is next level.”

As you pulled out the case file, flipping through the pages and studying the photos, you found it hard to concentrate, mostly because of how quiet the room turned out to become. Hotch was the kind of person whose silence seemed louder than most people’s conversations, and though you could tell he was intensely focused on the case, you sensed that he was also observing you – amazed at how it was the first time he ever saw someone overworking themselves as much as he did.

Breaking the silence, you threw a glance at him. “You ever wonder what makes someone do this? I mean, it’s one thing to read about it in a textbook, but seeing it in person…”

Hotch set his pen down and leaned back slightly in his chair, his gaze fixed on you. “Every time. You get used to it, but it never really stops affecting you.”

You nodded, taking that in. “It’s just so… deliberate. Every little detail, like the knots, the orchids, it’s like he’s creating something, not just destroying.”

Hotch’s eyes narrowed in thought, clearly impressed by your analysis. “That’s an interesting perspective. Most people would only see the destruction.”

“You know,” you said, leaning back on the bed, wanting to return the subtle compliment “when I first joined the academy, I never thought I’d end up here, sitting in a hotel room with one of the newest best profilers in the country.”

Hotch raised an eyebrow. “Flattery, huh? Didn’t think philosophers believed in that.”

You grinned. “We don’t, but I make exceptions.”

He gave you another small smile, his guard dropping just a little. ���Well, I didn’t expect to be working with a 21-year-old who can hold their own on a case like this.”

“I’ve got to keep up with all of you somehow.”

Hotch shook his head slightly, still smiling. “You’re doing more than keeping up, but I’ve already told you this.”

The next morning, while poring over the case, both you and Hotch hit on the idea that the unsub might escalate soon. "He’s been meticulous so far, but there’s a growing desperation in the pattern," you observed. "He’s becoming bolder with each kill, taking greater risks. If he feels like he’s not getting the recognition he craves, he might go after a more high-profile victim."

Hotch considered this, his brow furrowing. "Someone in the public eye. He’d want an audience for his ‘art.’ We should look into upcoming events where he might strike."

Later, Gideon walked into the room with a look that told you something big had just clicked into place. "We’ve got a break," he said, laying down a new set of photographs. They were taken at a local orchid show, a high-profile event that had been held recently. "We missed it before because the show was a private event, members only. But one of the attendees matched the profile. His name is Matthew Carson, a former Navy sailor turned horticulturist."

You leaned over the photos, seeing the man for the first time. Carson was in his mid-thirties, tall, with an air of quiet control about him. "That explains the knots," you said. "He would’ve learned that skill in the Navy. And the flowers - he’s obsessed with perfection, cultivating these delicate orchids. It fits with how he views his victims."

Hotch nodded, already processing the next steps. "We need to move fast. He’s going to escalate, and the orchid show gives him an audience: a high-profile victim pool. He’ll want to make his statement soon."

The team sprang into action, coordinating with local authorities to track Carson down. You, Hotch, Rossi, and Gideon prepared to approach his house, a sprawling property on the outskirts of town, where Carson ran his own private orchid nursery.

As the team closed in, your heart pounded with anticipation. Carson’s house was an eerie reflection of his mind: immaculate, but with an unsettling coldness, orchids lined the windowsills and filled every room with their fragile beauty. It was a place of quiet obsession.

Rossi was the first to spot Carson. The man was in the greenhouse, meticulously pruning an orchid, completely unaware of the FBI’s presence. Hotch signaled for you to stay back as he and Rossi approached cautiously.

"Matthew Carson," Hotch called, his voice steady but firm.

Carson didn’t flinch. He continued trimming the orchid as though nothing out of the ordinary was happening. "You don’t understand," he said quietly, his voice calm but laced with underlying madness. "It’s about perfection. I’m creating something beautiful."

Hotch took a step closer. "You’re hurting people, Matthew. This isn’t beauty, it’s destruction."

Carson finally looked up, his eyes hollow yet intense. "They weren’t good enough. The flowers... they have to be perfect."

You could feel the tension in the air while Hotch was doing what he did best, calmly, methodically drawing Carson out, understanding his twisted mind.

"They’re not flowers, Matthew. They’re people," You said as Hotch took another step closer. You continued "You’re not creating beauty. You’re trying to control what you can’t, but perfection doesn’t exist."

Carson’s grip tightened on the shears in his hand, his knuckles turning white. "I can make it exist," he whispered.

Before he could act, Rossi moved swiftly, disarming Carson and pinning him to the ground, he struggled briefly but then went limp, as if the fight had left him entirely. The unsub’s calm shattered, and in that moment, you saw the deep fragility that had driven his madness.

"You think you understand, but you don’t," Carson muttered as he was handcuffed. "I was so close."

As Gideon secured Carson, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. The case was over, but the weight of it still lingered but before you could start overthinking, you felt a hand on top of your left shoulder. Your heart skips a beat and you quickly turn around to what revealed to be Hotch “Good job on the case, partner” You shyly smile “Not so bad as your first case at all”

“I could say the same about you, especially on the way you handled Carson, but I bet someone like you is used to the myriad of compliments at this point.”

He rolled his eyes, then quickly moved towards Rossi before you could notice the smile tugged on his face - too late – you could see his dimples still showing even when he was far away from you.

Later, on the train ride back to Quantico, you and Hotch found yourselves sitting across from each other. The case had drained everyone, you glanced at Hotch, who was staring out the window, lost in thought.

"So," you said, breaking the silence, curious to know something real about the man you shared a room with for the past two days "now that the case is over, are you going to admit that you do something other than work? Or is profiling literally your only hobby?"

Hotch turned to you, raising an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," you said with a grin, "You must have to do something outside of this. You can't just spend all your downtime preparing for the next criminal mastermind, or developing conspiracy theories" His eyes went to his side, inviting you to glance at the older profilers. Rossi was conveniently standing up from his seat and leaning in front of Gideon, showing him something on a case file while simultaneously tracing small circles with the back of his pen on the papers the other was holding.

He gave you small smirk, his eyes twinkling with just a hint of mischief, then out of the blue he blurts out “I play the guitar."

You blinked, caught off guard. "You play the guitar?! Seriously?"

Hotch nodded, his expression casual, though you could tell he was enjoying your surprise. "Yeah. It’s something I picked up in college. Helps me unwind."

"Wait, wait, wait," you said, holding up a hand. "Aaron Hotchner, stoic, no-nonsense FBI agent extraordinaire, plays the guitar? I need proof. This sounds like a bluff."

He chuckled, the sound rare but genuine. "I don’t think I need to prove anything to you."

You leaned back in your seat, resting one hand on your forehead. "Unbelievable. I was so sure you didn’t have a hobby. I mean, by the way you work, I was starting to think someone else in the Bureau was keeping another big secret from us, C3-PO"

The unexpected Star Wars reference earned you a genuine laugh from him, then shook his head, a small smile still playing on his lips. "Just because I’m focused on the job doesn’t mean I don’t have other interests."

"Okay, fair enough," you admitted. "But now I’m really curious. What kind of music do you play? Classical? Rock? Please tell me it’s something totally unexpected, like heavy metal."

He laughed again, a sound you were quickly becoming fond of. "Mostly blues, actually."

You stared at him, wide-eyed. "Blues? Wow, that’s... I don’t know, I guess I expected you to say something like jazz or folk, but blues? That’s kind of badass."

Hotch gave a modest shrug. "It’s calming. Helps me think."

"I’m still wrapping my head around this," you said with a smirk. "I’m going to need to hear you play one day. Otherwise, I’m sticking with my theory that you’re secretly a robot who plays FBI agent."

He gave you a side-eye but couldn’t suppress his smile. "I’ll think about it, maybe after the next case if you’re still around"

You pretended to be offended by his words "Is this a threat?!”

“I was just trying to be encouraging”

Maybe working at the BAU wouldn’t be as intimidating as you first thought after all.

As the train rumbled on, you felt a sense of camaraderie with Hotch, a shared respect that had grown over the course of the case. You had proven yourself, and in return, he had let you see a side of him that few people probably ever did.

[helluvapoison]

Hi! I feel a little awkward bc I’ve never asked anonymously but I really wanted to ask this but wasn’t comfortable enough to ask regularly, but I really enjoy your hazbin works and the hyperfixation has been gripping me HARD and I wanted to see what you’d think of a Lucifer x Reader where they have a sort of Tony Stark and Pepper Potts vibes, where Reader is his personal assistant and what your thought on that are?

~✨

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

i put my thoughts at the bottom :3c

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

• As his colleague, Lucifer is rather frustrating. He hired you as his personal assistant but won’t let you assist

• In the beginning, the most he’ll ask of you is if you know where something is. The answer is usually in his hand or line of sight. Without making him feel dumb, you simply retrieve it for him

• It doesn’t go unnoticed by Lucifer either. He praises you often and in the form of a soft, “What would I do without you?”

• “I’m sure I don’t want to find out, Mr Morningstar.”

• Maybe it takes a minute for the initial “I’m working for the King of Hell” shock to wear off and when it does you realize it was clouding your judgment. Lucifer truly does require your help but he’s incapable of asking for what he needs; it’s up to you to step in and make necessary decisions on his behalf

• That’s what he’s paying you for, right?

• You tell him exactly what’s going to happen before you do it so he’s not caught off guard. He still is. Baffled, really, that you got so ballsy overnight

• Let the banter and boundary pushing begin. Nothing major! You just keep to your word, continuing your courageous streak

• Plucking all the sticky notes off the wall and collecting the ones that were so old they dropped to the floor, you spend an entire day sorting through them. You give his schedule a must needed update and sync it to both your phones so either of you could make changes and be alerted to it

“Why do I need your play-by-play?” He asks teasingly

“So you don’t call me at 4am because you forget I’m not here. Y’know, like last time.”

• Oh yeah, personal space and boundaries cease to exist between you. He’ll sit right next to you, or pull your chair closer to his. When he’s bored, he’ll sit right on your desk

• When he brings you to meetings, which is always because you’re supposed to be focusing on his behalf, he leans in and makes jokes that have you pressing your lips together to be quiet

• “I need to take notes,”

• “And you’re doing great, now jot down how Asmodeus’ shirt is on backwards,” He snickers

• Texting outside your shifts is a regular occurrence. Messages sent back and forth until it’s beyond sleeping hours and you tell him to go to bed

• “See you in 3 hours.” He texts back like he’s counting down (he is)

• Miraculously, you covered all corners of his (rather empty) mansion. Nothing was off limits to you except Charlie’s old room. You made sure dishes left his room or office and made it to the kitchen, checks for the house staff went out on time, supplies were stocked, etc.

• You take paperwork off his desk, screen and divert miscellaneous calls to your phone instead of his, overall taking unnecessary weight from his shoulders. You go as far as to pencil in mealtimes. It’s appreciated even though he’d still forget if you weren’t around

• “I’m beginning to suspect you’re underpaid,” Lucifer partially jokes

• You’re really, really not

• Sure, he spouts his stream of consciousness and it’s up for you to decipher what’s important and what’s just him sharing random details. Yes, he has you sit on his chair while he gestures wildly and explains the mechanics of something you don’t understand just because he’s excited about it. And yes, maybe, you spend too much time in his house than your own

• But you’re disgustingly overcompensated. You thought he made a mistake when you saw your paycheck. If not by actual money, Lucifer spoils you rotten in ways he definitely shouldn’t and doesn’t for his other employees

• “You deserve it for putting up with me,” His voice is laced with more adoration than acceptable, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

• You haven’t been doing it for the money in a long time

• The two of you have been teetering over the line of professional and inappropriate, praying, begging really, to fall on the side of the latter

• You almost kill him when you say you want to quit. Lucifer’s ready to offer you Hell on a golden platter if you’ll stay

• “It’s not about the money. I-I can’t do this anymore, I feel like a gold digger and I hate it! I don’t want to be your assistant, I want more and I–”

• Lucifer heard more and is struck with the overwhelming urge to kiss you

• “How much more?” He asks instead, voice cracking in anticipation, “If it’s in my power, it’s yours for the taking.”

• “Mr Morning—“

• “You want more? I can give you more. I can give you everything, anything, just tell me what you want. I know I’m a mess but I can be better! I can— I can,” Lucifer scrambles to find something, his wild eyes searching the air between you for anything you haven’t already done for him. He sighs, “I can be better, I promise…”

• “Because I want more too. I want to take you on cheesy dates, I want to have you beside me everywhere I go, I want all of Hell to know you’re mine. I want you to come here and stay here because you want to!” He wheezes and tugs at his collar, “And now I feel like want isn’t a word anymore because I’ve been saying it too much— do you ever do that? You say it over and over again and it starts to.. to…”

• He stares at your hand, placed softly over his to stop him from clutching at his clothes. Oh fuck, he can’t breathe

• “You’re really working for that pride title, aren’t you?” You tease softly, smoothing out the wrinkles in his vest before stealing his other hand, “Tell me more about what you want, Mr—“

• “Lucifer,” He all but begs

• “Lucifer,” You hum and he shivers, “What else?”

• “Don’t leave me,” He breathes, “I’ll be better.”

• “You’re already enough.”

• Painfully aware of how close the two of you have become, Lucifer struggles to keep your eyes locked with his. Your lips look so enticing, they always have

• His voice is quiet, almost broken, when he says, “I—I need you to say it.”

• “I won’t leave you. I’m still quitting though,” You smile, hovering over his lips, “So you’ll have to find a different way to compensate me.”

• “Pfft. Easy peasy,”

• He says nonchalantly as if he hasn’t tripped over nothing imagining your lips on his before. It’s nothing compared to the real thing

• Once again, you’re overcompensated

~

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ hello hi ✨! you’re getting a kith, c’mere. I absolutely see the vibes you’re going for and I am here for it!

i think tony and pepper are hilarious and adorable but i recognise it isn’t the healthiest of relationships out there. i know that’s not what you were implying at all though! the flirting, the bizarre requests, the shameless spending, the nonstop talking, the nonexistent boundaries, the devotion– yes, i see it i see it i see it!

i don’t think lucifer would raise his voice (not to you, anyways) you could get away with actual murder and that’s before he realizes his feelings for you. he can get rid of a body easily

lucifer may (like tony) forget the day of important dates but when he realizes, he makes up for it completely! he feels awful about it

if you look at something for 3 seconds too long, he’s buying it. if you show him something, he’s buying it. if he thinks you want it, he’s buying it

(like pepper) you definitely do put up with a lot of similar antics behind them though are good intentions and lucifer’s better at accepting fault. so if they genuinely upset you, he’ll find a way to mend it... usually it goes over the top

there’s really nothing lucifer wouldn’t do for you, it just takes some reminding that you’d do the same for him

[hurtblossom]

Jealous ln4

Pairing : Lando Norris x ex!Driver!Reader (Female)

Summary : She's jealous of the way hes happy without her. Or she thinks he is...

Warnings : angst, saddness, tears, terrible english, did i mention angst?

Masterlist

Labyrinth Jealous

The paddock was buzzing with the usual pre-race excitement, but I could barely focus on the chatter around me. My heart was somewhere else, trapped in the past where Lando and I used to be. We had shared so much in such a short amount of time, and yet here I was, watching everything crumble before me.

"I just can't do this anymore, Y/N," Lando had said, his voice breaking as he looked anywhere but at me. We were in his apartment, the place that had been our haven, now suddenly feeling cold and unfamiliar. I wanted to ask him why, to beg him to stay, but I could see it in his eyes—the decision was made. There was a finality in his tone that I had never heard before.

"What do you mean? We were fine… we were happy," I stammered, desperately searching for any sign that this wasn’t really happening. But he didn’t meet my eyes. Instead, he stared at the floor, his hands trembling as he tried to hold himself together.

"I'm jealous of the way you’re happy without me," I whispered, echoing the lyrics of the song that had been playing in the background. It felt like the universe was mocking me, as if the words were ripped straight from my heart.

But Lando didn’t hear my whisper. He just nodded, perhaps thinking I was accepting his decision. And then he left, taking with him the future I had dreamed of. The door closed behind him with a finality that echoed in the hollow silence of the room. I stood there for what felt like hours, unable to move, unable to process what had just happened. The life we had built, the love we had shared—it was all gone in an instant.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: * :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

I hadn’t seen Lando since that day. Our teams kept us busy, and I buried myself in work, trying to forget him. But every time I saw him on TV, or heard his name in the paddock, my heart ached. The pain was a constant, dull throb that refused to go away.

When I was around others, I wore a mask—smiling, laughing, pretending that everything was fine. But inside, I was broken. The nights were the worst. Lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, I was haunted by memories of us. His smile, his laugh, the way he used to look at me like I was the only person in the world.

We met again at the FIA Awards Gala. I was there to celebrate my first season as a Formula 1 driver, but all I could think about was him. I spotted him across the room, laughing with our mutual friends, looking as happy as ever. My chest tightened.

"I'm jealous of the nights that I don't spend with you," I thought to myself, the lyrics looping in my mind. I wanted to be the one making him laugh, the one he looked at with those bright eyes.

I tried to focus on the celebration, on the people congratulating me, but my eyes kept drifting back to him. He looked so carefree, so at ease, like he had moved on without a second thought. And when our eyes finally met, it was like time stopped. I forced a smile, but he quickly looked away, turning his attention back to the group around him. It was like I didn’t exist.

The rest of the night was a blur. I mingled with the crowd, nodded at the right moments, and even laughed when expected, but my mind was elsewhere. I couldn’t shake the image of him smiling, the way he seemed so happy without me. It tore me apart.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: * :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

The final race of the season, and I was more focused than ever. Racing was my escape, my way of channeling all the pain. But as fate would have it, Lando and I were once again side by side on the grid.

As the lights went out, I pushed all thoughts of him aside and focused on the track. But even as I raced, weaving through the turns, I couldn’t help but think of him.

"I'm jealous of the love that wasn't here," I sang softly in my helmet during a quiet moment on the straight. Our relationship had been perfect, or so I thought. But now, all that was left was this hollow feeling, the lingering question of what went wrong.

We had started out as friends, both young and eager, navigating the pressures of Formula 1 together. Over time, that friendship had blossomed into something more. I had fallen for him so hard, so fast. And I thought he had fallen for me too. We had shared everything—our hopes, our dreams, our fears. But now, as I raced, all I could think about was how it had all been an illusion.

We both finished the race in the points, and as I pulled into the pit lane, I saw him a few cars down. He was smiling, celebrating with his team. I wanted to walk over, to congratulate him, to tell him how proud I was, but I stopped myself. What was the point? He didn’t need me. He didn’t want me. Instead, I pulled off my helmet and looked away, pretending to be caught up in my own debrief.

But as the adrenaline of the race faded, the reality of my situation hit me like a ton of bricks. Lando was happy. He was thriving, and I was just a distant memory. The pain was unbearable, but I swallowed it down, plastering a fake smile on my face as I went through the motions.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: * :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

The end-of-season break came, and with it, the unexpected. We were both attending a charity event, and this time, there was no avoiding him. The tension between us had been growing, but neither of us had made the first move to talk about it. Until now.

He approached me when I was alone, sitting by the garden at the back of the event. The night was cool, the air crisp with the promise of winter. I had been staring at the stars, lost in thought, when I heard his voice.

"Y/N," he started, his voice soft, almost hesitant.

"Lando," I replied, trying to keep my tone neutral, even though my heart was racing. I didn’t want to show him how much I was still hurting, how much I still cared.

He sat down next to me, leaving a small gap between us. "I’ve been thinking about us," he admitted after a long silence. "I didn’t handle things well."

"I’m jealous of the way you’re moving on," I found myself saying, the words slipping out before I could stop them. I hadn’t planned on being so vulnerable, but there it was. The truth.

He looked at me, his eyes full of something I hadn’t expected—indifference. "Y/N… I need to tell you something."

My heart sank as I watched him struggle to find the right words. "What is it?"

"I’ve met someone," he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Her name is Magui."

The world around me seemed to tilt, and for a moment, I thought I might be sick. "Magui?" I repeated, as if saying her name would make this nightmare real.

He nodded, unable to meet my eyes. "She’s… we’re together now."

"I'm jealous of the way you're happier," I thought, the lyrics stabbing through my heart like a knife. I had held on to hope, believing that we could somehow find our way back to each other. But that hope was gone now, shattered into a million pieces.

I forced myself to nod, to keep my composure. "I see. Well… I hope you’re happy, Lando."

He finally looked at me, and there was a hint of sadness in his eyes, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough to heal the wound he had just inflicted. "I am," he said, and those two words broke me in a way I never thought possible.

We sat in silence for a moment, the weight of his confession hanging heavy in the air. I wanted to scream, to cry, to beg him to take it all back. But I knew it wouldn’t change anything. He had moved on. And I had to live with that.

"I’m glad you found someone," I managed to say, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to stay strong. "I really am."

"Y/N, I—" he started, but I cut him off.

"Please, don’t," I said, standing up and taking a step back. "I need to go."

He didn’t try to stop me, and that hurt even more. As I walked away, I felt the tears streaming down my face, blurring my vision. I had lost him. Truly lost him. And there was nothing I could do to change that.

As the year came to a close, I couldn’t help but think of the lyrics that had been my constant companion throughout this rollercoaster of emotions. "I'm jealous of the way you're happy without me," I had whispered months ago, and now, here we were, with him completely moving on, leaving me behind.

As I lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, I let the tears fall freely. I cried for what we had lost, for the pain I had caused myself by holding on to hope, and for the love that would never be again. I cried until there were no more tears left, only an emptiness that I knew would take a long time to fill.

Lando had moved on, and now I had to find a way to do the same. But deep down, I knew that a part of me would always be jealous of the life he was living—one that didn’t include me.

And as I drifted off to sleep, the lyrics played in my mind one last time, a haunting reminder of what could never be: "I'm jealous of the way you're happier without me."

Charles version

[lonely-cowboy]

chasing rainbows

pairing: connor (rk800) x f!reader

summary: you recently learned that connor has only ever seen the world in one color. gutted at the thought of such a colorless world, you decide to help him see the beauty of the world. only he doesn't care about the world. he only cares about you.

word count: 3.6k

warnings: nothing major, but lowkey a mess bc this is my first longer-ish fic, reader is really embracing her y/n moment, connor is so ooc it's kinda insane but i love him so whatever, they're both really confused about their feelings until they're suddenly not

author's note: i'm replaying dbh as one does bc i was sad and missed connor AND I'M LITERALLY FIGHTING FOR MY LIFE THIS PLAYTHROUGH?? my first playthrough was so nice and sweet and silly so now i'm trying to get other endings BUT I'M NOT STRONG ENOUGH FOR ALL THE EMOTIONAL DAMAGE?? anyway, my solution (as always) was to write happy connor and some grumpy hank yay! yes i did spend the first 1k words talking about literal colors, ignore that

masterlist ⟡ requests

Work was never the place to do work. That was something you learned from Hank after working under him for years.

Sitting at your desk that was situated across from Hank and Connor, you decided to ignore your terminal and the case report it displayed. You’d get to it eventually. Eventually. Besides, you were confident that you would be able to finish it relatively quickly.

Instead, you were tiredly flipping through a book of color swatches. Your gaze flitted across endless pages, darting from color to color as you searched for something eye-catching. In your recent efforts to make your apartment feel more homely, you decided it was time to add an accent wall, you just needed the right color. Obviously, the precinct was the best place to be color searching.

By the time you reached the end of the swatch booklet, you had only found two colors that interested you. At least then it would be easier to make a decision. You eyed the olive and plum swatches like you would a homicide suspect, trying your best to picture them in your apartment. You pursed your lips in thought, staring at the colors for so long that you could’ve sworn you were going cross-eyed.

“Detective?” Connor called, your eyes snapping to meet his. “Are you alright?”

“Actually, no, I’m not,” you answered with an exaggerated sigh, trying to sound as hopeless as possible. “I’m having quite the dilemma.”

“Is there anything I can help you with?” he asked.

The sincerity in his voice made your heart melt. He always showed such care for you. Sometimes you wondered if it was just another part of his social programming, but somehow, you knew it wasn’t. Connor genuinely did care about you, even when it was just your inability to pick a paint color. You almost felt bad for teasing him. Almost.

“I just can’t for the life of me decide on a paint color,” you said, glancing up at him with that shit-eating grin he was unfortunate to know so well.

Connor’s pleasant smile collapsed into a disappointed frown once he realized he had succumbed to your teasing.

“Saw that coming from a mile away,” Hank grumbled.

“You can help too, Lieutenant!” you said in an excessively cheerful tone, just to annoy Hank. “It’s not like you’re doing anything important.”

“Yeah, well, fuck you, kid” Hank sighed, turning his chair to face you fully. Work was never the place to do work.

With both Connor and Hank focused on you, you slid the two color swatches across your desk. Hank leaned forward with mild interest, nodding his head to himself as he considered both choices. Connor mimicked Hank, leaning forward and furrowing his brows at the sight of the swatches.

After a long moment of deliberation, Hank finally said, “Green.”

You nodded in approval as Connor looked at Hank with what could only be described as pure confusion. He then turned back to the colors before looking at you with an unsettled expression.

“I don’t understand,” Connor murmured. “These colors are the same.”

You and Hank stared at Connor in bewilderment. Maybe you could understand it if the colors were different shades of the same color and androids just had a poor sense of color differentiation. But these swatches weren’t even remotely close in color. There was nothing similar about them at all.

You and Hank exchanged a look of confusion. Maybe this was Connor’s attempt at a joke. No, he had made jokes before, and they were genuinely funny. Especially the ones that poked fun at Hank.

“Connor,” you started. “What do you mean?”

“They’re the same,” Connor repeated with a shrug, looking between you and Hank like he didn’t understand what he was missing. And he obviously didn’t understand.

“One is olive, one is plum,” you said.

“Green and purple,” Hank offered rather unhelpfully.

Connor only shrugged again, still unable to differentiate the two.

“Does anything look different than normal?” you questioned.

“No,” Connor replied simply.

Was it possible for androids to be colorblind? The idea baffled you. The only way Connor could be colorblind was if he was programmed to be that way. Why would he be programmed to not see color?

“Can you… I don’t know… describe what things look like to you?” you asked unsurely. Was that too abstract of a thought for an android? It was already too abstract for you. “Does everything look the same color?”

Connor considered your question, eyes narrowed as he glanced around the precinct. Hank looked at you like you were crazy for wanting to get to the root of this. Maybe you were.

“I… I suppose it all appears relatively similar,” Connor said with equal uncertainty.

You frowned at that. The world must have seemed so… well, sad to Connor. You hated the thought of his world being limited to a single color. He deserved to see the world for what it really was. He deserved so much… If you could at least give him this one thing, you would be satisfied.

“Do you want to change that?” you proposed.

“I admit, I would be curious,” Connor replied.

Immediately, you jumped up from your desk chair and started putting your coat on. Connor took that as a sign to do the same, rising from his chair to stand beside you.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Hank interjected. “Where do you two think you’re going?”

“To help Connor, obviously,” you replied with a bratty eye roll.

“That has nothing to do with work, kid, sit down,” Hank retorted, preferring that the two of you stayed with him so that he didn’t have to suffer alone.

“This has everything to do with work,” you countered like the typical asshole Hank knew you as. “Don’t you realize all the ways this probably inhibits Connor’s work? I mean, picture a typical crime scene. There are probably so many details he’s missing because he can’t fucking see color!”

“Actually,” Connor remarked. “I speculate that my limited color sensory was included in an effort to keep me focused on my investigations and avoid any distractions–”

“Connor,” you intervened, turning to give him a stern look.

“Yes, Detective?”

“Shut up.”

Immediately, Connor sealed his lips shut and pressed them into a thin line. You adored it when he listened to you.

You turned your attention back to Hank, flashing that brilliant smile that told him you weren’t going to listen to a single fucking thing he said. He sighed grumpily at the sight of it, turning back to his desk with a shake of his head.

In the absence of any other objections, you grabbed Connor’s hand and led him out of the precinct. You wondered if he could see the vibrant blush that coated your cheeks at the intimate contact. You hoped not.

He did.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Are you sure about this?” you questioned hesitantly.

In the middle of your living room, you stood in front of Connor with his new occipital unit in hand. You held it gingerly as if the slightest touch would break it. Although it was a lot easier to purchase biocomponents than you had expected. If it were to break, you would only have to walk three or so blocks to buy a new one.

You looked at Connor worriedly while he stood patiently. You were far, far from any kind of engineer. You had absolutely zero experience when it came to replacing android biocomponents. No matter how many times Connor reassured you, you still stressed at the thought of making a mistake. He promised it was easy, but how could changing biocomponents be anywhere close to easy?

“You can do it, I promise,” Connor murmured encouragingly.

His hand came up to encircle your wrist, tugging your hand forward gently. Your cheeks heated at the contact, making you aware of just how close the two of you were. You glanced away bashfully as you were overwhelmed by butterflies. When you returned your attention to Connor, you watched in awe as the skin around his right eye peeled away, revealing the natural white plastic. Connor’s eyes flicked across your face nervously, worried that you might be disturbed. But to you, it was like seeing a new and vulnerable side to Connor, one that you very much enjoyed.

As you reached for his current occipital unit, you froze with your brows furrowed. Your apartment was far from an interesting sight. There wasn’t much to look at, your apartment still lacking a homely feeling. Damnit, you really needed that accent wall.

“Come on,” you said without explanation.

You moved to leave your apartment after gently placing the two new occipital units into your bag. Slugging it over your shoulder, you waited at the door for Connor to follow. Connor stared after you, the white plastic disappearing.

“Come on,” you repeated, gesturing for him to follow.

Connor followed without a second thought. God, it really was so endearing when he listened.

You led Connor out of your apartment building and across the street to the nearby park. You wandered aimlessly for what felt like hours, trying to find the most scenic view for Connor to enjoy as his first sight.

At last, you settled on a bench situated in front of a little pond. Tall, stooping trees crowded the pond with just enough space between their branches to see the bright sky above. You were glad to be enjoying this moment in the fall when the leaves were the perfect shades of orange.

You stood with your hands on your hips, eyeing the view with a skeptical glint. Connor would be able to see a good range of colors from here. This place would do just fine.

Pulling Connor along, you sat him down on the bench by lightly pressing on his shoulders. Once he was seated with his hands neatly placed along his thighs, you reached for the first occipital unit from your bag.

“Okay,” you said with a determined huff. “Much better view, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know, I can’t see it very well,” Connor replied cheekily.

You couldn’t help but smile at that, rolling your eyes at Connor’s teasing. This only meant he had been spending a concerning amount of time around you and Hank. When you looked back at him, you exhaled slowly, “Ready?”

Connor nodded once, revealing the white plastic of his right eye once again. Before pulling it out, you reached forward and pressed a soft hand overtop Connor’s eyes, silently reminding him to keep his eyes closed until you said otherwise. When you pulled your hand away, you were pleased to find that his eyes remained closed.

Your fingertips then pressed against the plastic of Connor’s occipital unit. It popped out easily, allowing you to pull it out slowly and with ease, just as Connor had promised. It was jarring to see him without an eye. Or rather without a whole chunk of his face. You worried you might still mess up, leaving him without half of his face.

But when you pressed the new occipital unit forward, you found that it was just as easy as pulling the old one out. It took a moment to adjust, but the new part quickly shifted to match Connor’s appearance, his freckled skin melting over it and the doe-like shape of his eyes returning. That made you sigh with relief. You just hoped they were still the same beautiful brown you found yourself constantly lost in.

You then did the same with his other eye, quietly applauding yourself for not making a single mistake.

With his occipital units in place, you rounded the bench to stand behind Connor whose eyes remained closed obediently. Standing behind him, you placed your hands over his eyes once again, a giddy smile adorning your lips.

“You ready?” you asked, unable to contain your excitement.

“I think so,” Connor said hesitantly.

“Yeah, you’re ready,” you decided.

Slowly, you pulled your hands away, studying Connor with a sweet smile. You expected him to enjoy the view in silence, looking at every single thing he possibly could. But you were surprised to find that he barely even regarded the view. Instead, he immediately turned to look at you from over his shoulder.

With a tentative hand, he reached out for your hand that rested on the bench’s back. He pulled you gently around the bench so that you stood in front of him. His hand still held your limp hand as he stood to face you. He looked down at you with a small but warm smile, eyes exploring every inch of your face.

The unexpected attention had your heart racing, a nervous heat spreading throughout your body. You clenched your jaw tightly, a jumble of confusing and unwanted emotions consuming your entirety. Not wanting to say anything stupid to ruin… whatever this moment was, you clamped your mouth shut. Your eyes couldn’t help but wander, exploring Connor’s features the same way he did yours.

Connor’s warm touch left your hand, making you frown ever so slightly. But you were immediately comforted as he placed both hands on your cheeks. His thumbs rubbed soothing circles along your cheekbones like they had a mind of their own, relaxing your clenched jaw. His eyes locked with yours, never once blinking in fear that he would miss something if he did.

You practically forgot how to speak. You forgot how to do everything. It was a hassle to recall how you were even supposed to breathe. The only thing you could do was stare at Connor with a dreamy glimmer in your eyes.

“Your eyes are really pretty,” Connor mumbled.

You swallowed timidly before speaking, “Thank you.”

“You’re…” Connor began before his LED circled red.

Your gaze flickered to his LED, watching intently as it continued to flash red. That was a poor move on your part. Having broken the intense eye contact, Connor glanced away from you, looking straight ahead and dropping his hands from your cheeks like he suddenly awoke from a trance. Focused on the horizon, Connor’s LED spiraled yellow several times before returning to its typical blue.

His sudden change in attitude only added to your confusion of emotions. You took a pained step back, eyes falling to the ground.

“I didn’t expect the leaves to be this color,” Connor commented casually.

You cleared your throat and turned your back to Connor to focus on the leaves. You didn’t want him to see your embarrassed flush, though you were sure he already did.

“They’re not always this color,” you muttered. “Only in the fall. In the warmer months, they’re green.”

You caught a glimpse of Connor tilting his head, his nose scrunched with intrigue. He tried to visualize what that would look like, but having only seen one color since his creation, he didn’t seem to understand.

“Green like… like the grass,” you clarified, pointing to an open patch of grass.

“I’d like to see that. Perhaps you can bring me back here in the spring,” Connor hummed. When you didn’t say anything, he continued. “Are there other colors to see?”

“So many more,” you answered, flashing Connor a small (and slightly awkward) smile.

Connor trailed along beside you as you strolled through the park. Still too embarrassed to look at him, you also took the opportunity to admire the beauty of the park’s striking colors. You were ignorant to the way Connor watched you contently out of the corner of his eye. Of all the wonderfully colorful sights, you were by far his favorite. You were the only thing he could look at.

“Which one is your favorite?” Connor asked as you slowed your walk, having walked the entirety of the park. “Color, I mean.”

You stopped to consider his question, looking around at the abundance of colors. They were all so beautiful in their own ways that it was difficult to choose. But then your eyes landed on Connor, and it seemed so clear.

“Blue,” you replied definitively.

You felt foolish for your choice, but you couldn’t help that there was some truth to it. Blue had always been a pleasant color, but after knowing Connor, it took on a different meaning. When Connor’s LED was blue, it indicated he was happy. Or at least satisfied. You liked to see him when he was happy. It eased your mind knowing he was content. Because of him, it was now a color you associated with joy.

Though you didn’t say anything, you looked away flustered, wondering if Connor could somehow read your mind. You wouldn’t be at all surprised if he could.

“Do you have a favorite?” you inquired quickly.

Connor pursed his lips, mimicking you as he looked around the park. His head then snapped down to look at you, eyes immediately finding yours. He cocked his head curiously the way he always did. The way that made you so weak you could barely stand.

“What color are your eyes?” Connor wondered.

Your eyes widened, eyebrows arched as if you had misheard him. But you knew you hadn’t.

The way he spoke so nonchalantly drove you insane. How could he be so casual about something like this? Did he know what he was doing to you? Was he doing it on purpose? What did any of this mean? Was there any chance at all that he could care for you the same way you did him?

“Uh…,” you mumbled, stuttering out your eye color.

Connor nodded thoughtfully at your answer, his charming eyes still latched onto yours.

“Then that’s what I would say,” said Connor. “Your eyes are my favorite.”

“Oh,” you said dumbly, clueless as to how on earth you were supposed to respond to that.

The corners of Connor’s lips quirked into an affectionate smile. He arched his brows at you like he expected something more than just oh.

Your mind was racing for anything to say. Were you just supposed to ignore Connor’s loving words that felt far too much like a subtle confession? Were you supposed to confront it head-on? Neither of those options sounded good.

“Thanks,” you whispered. “I like them too.”

As you cursed yourself endlessly for saying the stupidest fucking thing to come to mind, Connor’s grin widened. A quiet laugh escaped his lips, one that you didn’t hear through the blaring alarms screaming “why are you such an idiot?” in your head.

“That was stupid,” you groaned, deciding it was better to admit it than ignore it. “But… thank you. You… you have pretty eyes too.”

“Thank you, Detective,” Connor said cheerfully.

You moved to continue walking with Connor close at your side. Maybe you were crazy (there was always a good chance of that), but you could’ve sworn he was standing considerably closer than before. Your arm swung at your side, his arm brushing against yours in the slightest. It didn’t matter how insignificant that touch was, it meant something to you. Maybe it meant something to Connor too.

You had been walking in complete silence until Connor spoke, his words making you trip and fumble and scream and cry and scream and die a little.

“You’re pretty to look at. All of you, not just your eyes,” he said, shooting you an adorably attractive wink for emphasis.

You stopped dead in your tracks, Connor trailing ahead until he noticed you were no longer beside him. You stared at him with a far too serious expression, one that made him doubt his words. How could he be so casual about something so serious? Did he actually feel this way, or was it all a heartless prank?

“Your words are really fucking with me, Connor, you know that?” you said.

“I know,” Connor nodded with a cocky edge. God, he really was spending way too much time with you and Hank to be this snarky.. “Your heart has been racing the entire time we’ve been together.”

“So you’re purposefully torturing me?”

“I wouldn’t consider this torture. But, yes. I suppose I’ve been… holding this over you.”

“Well, stop that!”

Connor flashed you a cheeky grin as he approached you again. His hands moved to cup your reddened cheeks, warming them with his soft touch.

“You’re right, I shouldn’t do this to you,” Connor said fondly. “Not when you’ve shown me how beautiful the world is… How beautiful you are.”

“Shut up,” you grumbled, trying to hide the smile that crept along your lips.

“You’ve told me before that I’m terrible at shutting up, I don’t see why I should start now.”

You and Connor wore matching smirks as you tried to best the other, subconsciously moving closer to each other.

“Oh, so you don’t want to shut up and kiss me?” you parried.

“When did those words ever leave my mouth?”

“When did you get so cocky?”

“When I realized I could have you.”

You had nothing to say after that. No witty remark or snide comment. All you could offer was a gentle smile.

Connor leaned forward, his nose brushing against yours. He was so close that you could feel his breath– so real for an android– against your lips.

“Pretty smile too,” he murmured, his lips grazing yours.

“It’d look even prettier if you actually kissed me,” you whispered.

Connor knew he couldn’t win this battle of wits. He honorably accepted his loss, knowing it was the only way to kiss you. You beamed into his kiss, proud of yourself for being so stubborn. That was quickly lost on you when you felt the softness of Connor’s lips. You indulged in his touch, leaning forward against his chest to feel as much of him as possible.

Connor pulled away sooner than you would have liked, resting his forehead against yours. A breath of a laugh escaped his lips when he saw that desperate glint in your eyes. He pulled back to look you in the eye after pressing a loving kiss to your forehead. His thumb brushed under your eye, lost in the color he loved so dearly.

“You’ll always be my favorite sight.”

[nhlclover]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐃 | 𝐋𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐒

summary: in the wake of your painful break-up with jack, you find comfort and blossoming feelings with luke.

warning: part two to this fic, bsf ! luke hughes x reader, jack hughes x reader, angst, jack once again being a terrible (ex)boyfriend, little tiny bit of swearing

word count: 2.93k

In the days that followed your birthday, your head felt like it was in a blender. The entire day had left you confused, hurt, and angry. The sting of Jack's absence was a constant ache, and the silence that followed was deafening. You hadn't heard from him at all — not even a ‘sorry for bailing on your birthday’ text. The uncertainty about your relationship status gnawed at you, making you question everything.

Luke had been a steady presence during this time, though he couldn’t provide any more information about Jack’s whereabouts or reasons. He had barely spoken to his brother since their blowup at the arena. Their encounters were limited to brief, awkward glimpses at the rink, where Luke made a point to avoid prolonged interaction. In the meantime, Luke had been staying over at your apartment and occasionally at Jesper's. You hated how you had come between two brothers, creating a rift between two people who had once been so close.

The days dragged on, each one marked by the same painful silence from Jack. You tried to go about your daily routine, but the weight of your unresolved feelings made it difficult to focus. Work was a welcome distraction, though your colleagues noticed the change in your demeanor.

One evening, when you were sitting on your couch, a knock at your door drew your focus off the baseball game playing on your TV. When you opened the door, you were met with a remorseful-looking Jack.

“Can I come in?” he asked softly.

You hesitated momentarily, wondering if it was a good decision, but ultimately stepped aside and let Jack in. Jack had spent the last couple of days in a haze, his argument with Luke replaying in his head. His words had been harsh but true, piercing through the fog of Jack's self-deception and forcing him to confront the reality of his actions.

As he sat across from you at your kitchen table, the silence between you two was almost unbearable. Jack's eyes wandered, unable to meet yours, focusing instead on the bracelets on his wrists.

He took a deep breath, his eyes finally meeting yours. “I’m so sorry… for everything, y/n,” he said. “I know I’ve been a terrible boyfriend and I let you down, not just on your birthday but so many times before that.”

You felt your emotions rising in your chest, tears brimming in your eyes as you remembered your birthday. You remembered waiting throughout the night as everyone who wasn’t your boyfriend arrived to celebrate your birthday. The memory of the pitying glances you’d received as the hours passed by only amplified your heartbreak.

Jack reached out, taking your hand that was resting on the table in his. His touch was tentative as if he feared you might pull away. “I’ve been a fucking idiot,” he continued. “I never meant to make you feel like you weren’t important to me, and I know I’ve messed up more times than I can count, but… I don’t want to lose you. I need a second chance.”

You considered his words but couldn’t help but feel that they rang empty. You took a shaky breath, pulling your hand away gently. “Jack, it’s not a second chance at this point… it’s a fourth or a fifth,” you said. “The amount of times you’ve left me sitting in front of my mirror, my makeup completely done and so excited to go on a date with my boyfriend, only to have you text me that you can’t make it? I can’t keep doing that.”

Jack’s face fell, the true extent of his non-committal behavior sinking in. He looked down at the table, unable to meet your gaze. “I know, y/n… I’ve been awful, and I’ve let you down so many times. I can’t even begin to make up for all the times I wasn’t there for you.”

You wiped a tear from your cheek, trying to keep your voice steady. “It’s not just about the dates, Jack. It’s about feeling like I’m the last thing on your mind, like an afterthought.”

Jack’s eyes snapped back to yours, soft and desperate. “You’re not an afterthought, y/n.”

“Jack…” you shook your head. “If I was everything to you, you wouldn’t have missed my birthday. You wouldn’t have let me down time and time again. I can’t keep being disappointed. I can’t keep letting myself get pushed around like this. I feel like I’m a little girl again, crushing on the older brother of my best friend, wondering if he’ll ever give me the time of day or even spare me a glance.”

Jack’s shoulders slumped as the weight of your words hit him, each sentence like a physical blow. He knew you were right. He knew he had no defense. No valid excuse. He could see the pain in your eyes, shown with every tear that came down from your sullen eyes.

Jack recognized he was at the point of no return. You weren’t going to let him keep acting like this, at least not with you. A silence fell between the two of you as you read Jack’s anguished eyes, realizing he’d backed down.

“You should go, Jack,” you said softly, the finality of the words hanging in the air.

Jack nodded, standing up. He hesitated for a moment as if he wanted to say something, but knew there was nothing left to say, nothing that could change the damage that had been done. He simply walked to your side, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head, before leaving you sitting at your kitchen table, alone.

The door closed behind him with a soft click. You sat there a moment, the still silence of the apartment pressing on you. The reality of the situation finally hit you, and you felt a sob rise in your throat. You buried your head in your hands, the tears coming hard and fast, falling to the wood below you.

It was a mix of sadness and relief that washed over you. The sadness of losing someone you once loved deeply, and the relief of finally choosing yourself.

In the aftermath of your breakup with Jack, life felt like a whirlwind of emotions. Everything from pain to sadness to solace passed by you. Luke, true to his nature, was by your side through it all. The pain of Jack's absence was tempered by Luke's unwavering support. Slowly, you began to see him in a new light.

At first, it was the little things. Luke always knew how to make you laugh; his lighthearted jokes became a soothing balm for your broken heart. You began to notice how he always seemed to be there for you, how he never seemed too busy or distracted to listen. One evening, after you’d complained about your day at work, he came over with takeout and offered to watch the new season of Bridgerton, despite having complained about it previously. As you ate and laughed together, a warmth in your chest began to develop.

The next few weeks brought more of Luke's comforting presence. He came over to fix your leaky faucet that your super had neglected to fix despite your incessant asking. Each hangout also functioned as his way to check in on you, ensuring you were doing okay since the break-up. One night, he brought you a bouquet of flowers, just because he thought you’d like them.

The repeated small gestures spoke volumes to you, changing the way you saw Luke. You realized that he’d always been there, quietly supporting you, understanding you in ways that Jack never did. That realization hit you during one of your late-night conversations, as Luke listened intently while you told a story from your day.

The days passed and the relationship you once had as children came back in full force. You started looking forward to the moments you got to spend with Luke. You began to crave his company, seeking him out even for the simplest things like grabbing coffee or taking a walk in the park, even offering to work out with him despite having to go through his intense hockey regimes.

It all came to a head one evening as you sat on your balcony, watching the sun set upon the city. The two of you sat in comfortable silence, the cool breeze blowing over your skin. You turned to look at him, the setting sun casting a golden glow on his face. It was in that moment that you realized just how much he meant to you.

The more time you spent with Luke, the stronger your feelings grew.

However, with your blossoming feelings came an overwhelming sense of fear and guilt. Fear, because acknowledging these emotions might disrupt the delicate balance of your lives, and disrupt the friendship you'd both held dear for years. Guilt, because crushing on your ex-boyfriend's little brother, even if you knew him first, felt like a cardinal sin, and the idea of causing a rift between them was almost unbearable.

You found yourself in a near-constant state of inner turmoil. The joy of being with Luke was tempered by the anxiety of the potential fallout. What if Luke didn't feel the same way? What if he did? The questions spiraled in your mind, each one bringing a new wave of dread. You were scared of complicating things, of making a mess of something so precious. Your friendship with Luke was one of the most important things in your life, and the thought of losing it because of your feelings was terrifying.

As these emotions churned within you, you started to withdraw slightly, afraid that any small gesture might betray your true feelings. You became hyper-aware of every interaction, second-guessing yourself constantly. Did that touch linger too long? Was that compliment too heartfelt? You began to isolate yourself, creating a distance in an attempt to protect what you had, but this only made the feelings more confusing.

Meanwhile, Luke noticed the shift in your behavior. He brushed it off, as he knew how stressed you were due to work, but when it remained for weeks at a time, he couldn’t ignore the growing distance. He noticed the way you hesitated around him, whether it was when you were going in for a hug or when you laughed, and it was missing the usual genuine ring to it. It was as if a barrier had formed between you, sending profound unease through him.

He started to question himself, wondering if he'd done something to cause your withdrawal. Was he too forward in his gestures of friendship? Did he unknowingly overstep boundaries in his efforts to make you feel comfortable around him again? As he reflected on your interactions and the days spent together, doubts crept into his mind. Maybe he misread your signals, mistaking your friendliness for something more. The fear of having made you uncomfortable ate away at him, casting a shadow over his every interaction with you.

Luke finally decided he couldn't ignore the growing tension any longer. He knew he needed to confront you, not only to ease his own concerns but also because he cared deeply about your well-being. You’d been dodging his calls, coming up with excuses to avoid one-on-one hangouts with him. It pained you to do that, especially after experiencing that with Jack, but you didn’t know if you could be in the same room as Luke without the fear of ruining things coming back.

Since you’d been almost completely ignoring him, Luke knew his only option was to go straight to your place and confront you directly. After a game, he left nearly as soon as media was done, speeding to your place, where he knew you’d be. Because, even though you were ignoring him, he knew you would’ve watched the whole game, your eyes glued to Luke whenever he graced the ice.

The knock at your door at eleven at night sent a worry through your core, but when you saw the curly-headed boy on the other side, the worry subsided before morphing into a different type of fear.

“Can I come in?” Luke asked when you opened the door. He was right about knowing you had watched the game, glancing at the ESPN post-game highlights playing on your TV.

You nodded silently, letting Luke inside. He didn’t sit down, instead standing in the middle of the room, fiddling with the bracelets on his wrists. The sight was all too familiar to when Jack came over a couple of months before. The reminder that you were crushing on your ex's younger brother pounded in your mind, discomfort washing over you.

He noticed the tension in your posture, the way your gaze flickered nervously whenever he tried to meet it. “I… I can’t shake the feeling that something's off between us recently,” Luke said. “Is everything okay?”

Your heart clenched at the concern in his voice. “Yeah, everything’s fine,” you said, putting up a mask of sincerity.

Luke could tell instantly that your vague answer was a lie. The way your arms wrapped tightly around your torso, one that donned his hoodie. “Y/n, if you think I’m believing that, you’re out of your goddamn mind,” Luke said.

You swallowed hard as you looked into his eyes, so full of warmth and genuine care, you found yourself unable to keep up the facade. You let out a sigh, shoulders slumping as you finally admitted, "No, everything's fucked."

His brows furrowed in concern, and he took a small step closer, a silent invitation for you to continue. "Luke, I… I don't know how to say this," you started, your voice trembling slightly. "But being around you lately… it's been… difficult."

Luke’s stomach churned as his fears suddenly came to fruition. He was right; he overstepped and misread your actions. You watched as Luke's expression softened even more, his eyes reflecting a mixture of confusion and concern. "Difficult?" he asked gently.

You took another deep breath, your hands trembling slightly. "I’ve been avoiding you because… I realized… I have feelings for you, Luke. And it scared me. Not just because of Jack and everything with him, but because you’ve been my friend for so long. I didn’t want to mess things up between us."

Luke's posture softened, his concern melting. "Y/n…"

You pressed on, unable to stop the flood of words. "I’m so sorry if this makes things awkward or if it complicates your relationship with Jack. I didn’t want to burden you with my feelings, so I tried to keep them locked away but being around you… God, it got so hard and I couldn’t keep pretending they weren’t there. I’m sorry for everything, I’ve screwed everything up."

You didn’t know when the tears started, but you felt them slide down your cheeks, dripping onto Luke’s hoodie you wore. When you finally finished, you looked at Luke, your heart in your throat. He took a step closer, his eyes locked on yours. “Are you done freaking out now?”

You blinked, taken aback by his calm response. “What?” you croaked out.

Luke smiled, a genuine warmth that reached his eyes. “Y/n, I like you too. Fuck… I’ve liked you for a while now.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, hope mingling with disbelief. “You do?”

As kids, your parents would always tease about the two of you maybe liking each other, which you’d always deny. Quinn would always poke fun at Luke, saying he was in love with you, but you always brushed it off. Cause you were just friends.

He nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Yeah. I've been… scared, too. Scared of losing what we have, of messing things up. But… I can't ignore how I feel, either.”

Relief and joy flooded through you, mingling with the lingering fear. “So… what now?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Luke took a step forward, closing the gap between the two of you, taking your hands in his. “Now, we take things one step at a time. And we’ll talk to Jack when the time is right. We figure this out together.” Luke told you. You felt your heart beat steady, Luke’s calming presence taking over. “But for now, can I kiss you?”

Your heart soared, and you nodded, a smile breaking through your tears. “Please.”

Luke's hand gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing away the tears that lingered. He leaned in slowly as you closed your eyes, anticipation fluttering in your stomach. The moment his lips touched yours, a spark ignited between you, sending a rush of warmth through your body.

When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours. “I've wanted to do that for so long,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “Me too,” you admitted, feeling a weight lift off your chest.

Luke pulled you into a gentle hug, his arms wrapping around you tightly. The two of you stood there for a moment, just holding each other and savoring the moment. Eventually, you pulled back slightly, looking up at him. "What about Jack? How do we tell him?"

Luke sighed. “We’ll be honest with him. I’m sure he’ll be happy for us... Actually maybe not." Luke said, remembering his brother's words during their spat a couple months back. "But whatever happens, we’ll deal with it together.”

You nodded, Luke’s words allowing your nerves to calm a little. "Okay. Together."

[steddieas-shegoes]

Drabble idea for the ask thing: Steve works at a tattoo shop and Eddie works at a flower shop, they both get odd looks when they tell people about their job. Bonus: Eddie gets a tattoo of a flower from Steve and that's how they meet.

This is like if you took call me sunshine, send me to space and made it cuter with a flower shop and made Steve the tattoo artist instead. I'm just gonna write the bonus scene because that's a lot to keep 500 words or less and we all know how I go on 😂 Don't @ me over the super sappy ending, someone with spoons please write another 50k of this.

🌷🌼🌻🌷🌼🌻🌷🌼🌻

"You want a wildflower bouquet in the space of your full sleeve?" Steve stared at the fully tattooed man over his glasses, brows raised in disbelief. "I'm not one to judge tattoo choices but you seem to know what you're doing and I'm a bit confused as to how that fits with...anything else on your arm."

Steve had definitely done some wild tattoos. He was actively part of so many bad decisions made by people who would live to regret getting their girlfriend's name on their neck or the face of their best friend on their thigh.

But this one was different in that this guy had clearly meticulously planned out every tattoo on his body, and that was a lot of tattoos, and now he wanted to add...wildflowers. In between skulls and guitars and some metal band logo. Right.

"Yeah and if it's a problem, I can go somewhere else, man. I just heard a lot of good things about you and my flower shop is two doors down, so-"

"Wait. You're Eddie? You're the guy who owns the flower shop." Steve perked up, face relaxing more into a smile.

"The one and only. You been by?" Eddie didn't remember actually seeing Steve before.

He'd been shocked to walk in and see a barely tattooed Steve sitting behind the counter. Assuming he was the secretary, he'd said he was here for an appointment with the guy in charge, and Steve smiled and explained who he was.

"I haven't. But someone brought me a bouquet you made when I first opened and it was beautiful. Managed to keep it alive and thriving for almost two weeks, which is a record for me, and then someone said it was because of the way you take care of them before they're sold and the minerals you use in the water and I'm turning into Robin. Jesus."

Eddie was endeared.

Steve was looking down at his tablet in front of him, a barely visible sketch on it.

"Is that what you've come up with?" Eddie asked as he leaned over the counter to get a closer look.

They could talk about his love of the bouquet Eddie made later.

"Yeah, but. Now that I'm looking at you...I'm not sure it's right," Steve sighed, closing the app and looking back up at Eddie. "I can redesign at no charge and set up another consultation."

"Can I see?"

"Sure."

Steve pulled his tablet out and opened the picture back up.

It was beautiful, actually resembled a bouquet Eddie had done not long ago for his friend Jonathan.

"It's perfect. Can it be done in one long sitting or do we need to break it up?" Eddie smiled at Steve, pulling up the calendar on his phone to make an appointment.

"Uh. Well." Steve cleared his throat. "I guess you could probably handle the pain so all in one is fine with me? It's probably gonna be six hours with breaks every hour. Are you sure this is what you want?"

Eddie looked at the tablet again, tilting his head as he thought back to when he'd made this bouquet.

"Do you know Jonathan Byers?" Eddie asked, not looking away from the picture.

His eyes focused on the coneflower that he'd only been able to use in one bouquet before his part time employee found out they were allergic.

"Yeah...why?"

"He got you that bouquet, right?"

Steve nodded.

Eddie didn't really believe in fate or destiny or whatever type of miracle people tended to wish for. He also didn't believe in soulmates or the perfect partner.

But wildflowers grow anywhere, and sometimes love can too.

[dindjarindiaries]

Bear My Burdens

character: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian)

prompts: "I knew you'd feel guilty; You do understand that I'd take a thousand wounds if it meant keeping you safe, don't you?” “​​Why is it so difficult for you to believe that you deserve to be protected?” and “I’m going to protect you, now. Because that’s what we do for the ones we love. We keep them safe.”

main masterlist • prompt masterlist

Two knocks is all you’re able to offer before you slump against the side of the cabin’s entryway. The blood on your face has crusted over by now, but the bruises and aches have started to settle within your ribs and your limbs, making the simple task of standing too difficult. You’re surprised you made it to Nevarro in this shape, your ship on the opposite side of the cabin from the N-1.

You’ve fully sunken to the ground with your back resting against the cabin as the door slides open. Din stands in the threshold fully armored, both his blasters drawn as he looks around. His visor snaps in your direction, his helmet tilting as he tucks his blasters back into his belt. Din curses as he kneels down to pick you up.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize through gritted teeth, groaning as you get jostled against his armor. Your cheek presses against his pauldron as he takes you inside.

Din doesn’t say anything, instead focusing on getting you settled as he lays you down on the couch and disappears into the bedroom. Grogu emerges from his own room, his ears lowering at the sight of you as he coos.

“Hey, little guy,” you greet, trying your best to perk up as you give him a small wave. “I’m all right. Promise.”

Grogu tilts his head and snorts, catching your bluff just as effectively as his father always does. He starts to approach you, but Din’s quicker, emerging with his medpac and kneeling down next to your place on the couch. Din begins his work on you once he silently gains your consent to be touched, his gloves removed and his hands tending to the dry blood on your face. He still hasn’t spoken since his curse earlier, worsening the dark pit that festers inside your stomach.

You speak up when the silence starts to drive you mad. “Din,” you begin, your voice soft and wary. He doesn’t stop his work, and if you didn’t already know him so well, you would’ve assumed he wasn’t listening at all. “Are you upset with me?”

Din’s actions slow at that, his cuirass rising and falling in a visible deep breath. He offers his response in a single decisive and telling word. “No.”

That’s all you get. He returns to his usual speed, leaving you to raise an eyebrow at him. “I’m not gonna bother asking if you’re upset with the people who did this, then, because I know you are.”

Din huffs, though the sound isn’t amused. You watch him pull one of his hands into a fist when he exchanges one cloth for another.

You sigh before going on. “But you shouldn’t be upset with yourself.”

Din goes still at your words. His hands remain near your face, but his helmet looks away from you, his chin tucking closer to his cuirass as if he’s trying to hide himself from you. You give him time; It’s the least he deserves after you’ve returned in this condition. His voice is so low you almost miss it. “I could’ve stopped them.”

You tilt your head at him, propping yourself up as best as you can and instantly releasing a tight growl at the pain it causes. Din faces you to urge you back to where you were before. “I was the one who kept you from coming,” you remind him. “I wasn’t taking the chance of you getting hurt for something I did.”

Din doesn’t respond to that. He still doesn’t move, either, his visor instead considering the blood-stained rag that sits at his side. The tension in his armored shoulders tells you everything he doesn’t say.

“I knew you'd feel guilty.” You lift a hand to the side of his helmet, brushing your thumb over the ridge in the metal. “You do understand that I'd take a thousand wounds if it meant keeping you safe, don't you?”

Din’s visor meets your gaze, his hand rising to cover yours. “As would I.” He takes a grasp on your wrist, lowering it and watching as his thumb brushes over the skin there. He passes over the dark marking of Crimson Dawn you’ve never been able to escape from, despite their destruction at the hands of the Empire. Your debts need to be paid, and Din deserves better than to be the one who pays them.

“I know you would.” Din releases your wrist to continue his work, with Grogu now trying to help him by handing him various bacta remedies and bandages. “But I can’t let you.”

Din finishes with the cuts on your face and sighs, the sound as heavy as the burden upon his shoulders. He all but tosses the cloth in his hand aside and takes a tight grasp on his armored thighs, his visor watching them as he shakes his helmet. “No.”

You raise your brow at him again. “No?”

Din’s visor snaps up at you. “I’m not letting this happen again.”

You frown at his words. “Din…”

“​​Why is it so difficult for you to believe that you deserve to be protected?”

Your gaze can’t meet his visor any longer. Now you’re the one who’s avoiding him, your eyes darting all around the room. “It’s not your burden to bear.”

Din lifts a hand to the lip of his helmet, removing the beskar in one swift move. He sets it aside and takes your face between his hands, keeping his grasp gentle in light of your recent wounds. His brown eyes, dull in their concern, never once leave your gaze as he repeats the vow you both exchanged long ago. “Mhi me'dinui an.” We share all.

You try to come up with a rebuttal, but you can’t. Din is a man of honor, and trying to talk him out of upholding the vow he’d sworn to you is an impossible task.

“I’m going to protect you, now.” Din rests his forehead against your own. “Because that’s what we do for the ones we love. We keep them safe.”

You lift a hand to the side of his face, your thumb brushing over a scar he’d gotten once on your behalf as your vision starts to blur with sheer gratitude and affection. “I love you, too.” You repeat the first words you said to him when you first got back home. “I’m sorry.”

Din shakes his head, the corners of his lips pulling into a small smile as he leans even closer to you. “You did nothing wrong.” The gentle reassurance melts against your lips along with his own in a meaningful kiss that becomes the seal of his promise to uphold his word of protecting you, and your agreement to finally letting him.

[look-at-the-soul]

Can’t love in the dark (Part 2)

Tommy Shelby x reader

Sequel to “All I ask”

Request: kind of 🤭 @l1-l4 Andy threw a fantastic idea one day and I saw it, and from that moment I’ve been thinking about it daily… until this idea worked perfectly with another request for my Adele challenge ♥️ Andy, you asked for an angsty story, here you go! I hope you and everyone else like it 🥰 that gif was amazing and summed Tommy’s anger.

Summary: (There’s a time jump between this and the first part) Tommy keeps watching over Y/N, sending flowers, even after getting married to someone else. Until one day he exploded after finding the truth that caused a terrible accident.

“Can’t love in the dark” is one of my favorite Adele songs, the sentiment she sings with every time she performs it on stage gives me chills 🥹

⚠️ Angst but with a little surprise at the end 🤭

Word count: 4,727 (without the lyrics)

Making the decision to let Tommy go was the hardest thing you ever had to do, but it was for the best, or at least you tried to convince yourself of that. Crying your heart out at night you tried to comfort yourself by thinking that his baby would be able to grow next to his father. Forcing yourself to push aside the feelings and expectations you started to develop towards Tommy and the future he had shared with you that’d be taking off right after the races.

He’d have another priorities from now on.

The following day you quit your part time job at the Shelby Company Ltd. and focused entirely on the shoes shop. Tommy tried absolutely everything in his power but all he got in response was a sad glance that broke his heart or you leaving him at the shop speaking to himself while you pretended to be busy in the back.

There was nothing to be angry or resentful towards him, he slept with Grace before meeting you after all… but deep down you wished it was you instead of her the one getting pregnant.

With a heavy heart you thought how you could only dream of what could’ve been.

You had been on the edge ever since, struggling to sleep, eating the bare minimum, you felt like a fragile thing that’d break at the slightest contact, trying to hide from your poor father the sadness that you carried around like a heavy weight on your shoulders.

Nothing seemed to be working out the way he had planned. Not after you made it very clear that the future he had envisioned of the two of you together wasn’t possible, he held the hopes still, thinking you’d accept the marriage proposal and he could be there for his son, but you quickly let him him know that was way too modern and looked extremely bad for you. He tried convincing you over and over, assuring that it would be just fine because it was you the one he wanted to get married to, not Grace.

There was nothing he could say would convince you otherwise.

But what really hit him was that one time when you on the edge of crying asked him to leave, you actually yelled at him frustrated because it was too damn painful to accept the fact that he didn’t belong to you, you accepted out loud that you were jealous of Grace for giving him something you wouldn’t.

As weeks went by, he got the news that Grace’s husband ended with his own life, he decided to not get involved in that matter but it was hard to stay away at the same time because she was pregnant with his baby. She was deeply affected by the way events turned out, constantly on the edge and his major concern was the wellbeing of his unborn child so he did everything he could to ensure it. One thing led to the other and he ended up getting married with Grace because it was the right thing to do.

So here he was, stuck in a marriage for the wrong reasons, thinking of another woman, dreaming of another woman that was slowly, little by little slipping away from him. It was impossible to focus on the fucking papers in front of him, work had been pilling up because he was always looking for a ridiculous excuse to see you, even from afar.

Polly stormed into her nephew’s office fuming after learning that he had blinders guarding Y/N when she took the train to the south to see a new vendor. Despite what happened, Polly still had a good relationship with her.

“It’s been over a year Thomas, you have to let her go, you got married to Grace, have a son now… Y/N needs to live her life, rebuild and start over.”

“What the fuck do you mean start over?” He squinted his eyes, blowing away the smoke of his cigarette.

“Oh! Please don’t play dumb with me, do you really expect her to remain single forever?”

The realization sinking in, it felt as if he got kicked in the gut. The long gulp of whiskey didn’t help.

“No… no, there can’t be another man in her life.”

“Are you even listening to what you say?! She deserves to be happy!”

“What do you know? Ey?!”

“There’s someone who’s interested in her but he can’t get close because of your bloody guards!” Polly exploded.

Jaw clenched at the thought of another man starting to court you. No, anything but that.

“I’ve to protect her.” Tommy leant on his desk with palms wide open. Head hanging low.

“You lost her and all for your stupid revenge towards the woman you’re married now!”

“I never thought she would get pregnant, trust me that wasn’t my intention.”

“But it’s too late now for that… just let the girl move on.” Turning on her heels she walked towards the door. “And be more discreet, the maids keep gossiping about how you are sleeping in the guest room.”

****

Hearing the bell, you called from the back of the room; “The store is closed now, I just forgot to change the sign” but you cut yourself after finding him at the other side of the counter.

“Y/N… please.”

Take your eyes off of me so I can leave

I'm far too ashamed to do it with you watching me

Defeated, you gave up, manners long forgotten. “How many times do I have to tell you that you’re not welcomed here anymore?”

Your attitude made him remember the first time he saw you and Tommy had to hide the smirk that was about to appear on his lips.

Please, stay where you are

Don't come any closer

“Just leave, Thomas, for good.” You pointed at the door. “Goodness, sometimes I wish you could keep your fucking promise and burn this fucking place down so I would’ve a reason to go away.” You admitted with anger, pacing the small shop.

Don't try to change my mind

I'm being cruel to be kind

“I could never do that to you.”

“That look doesn’t charm me anymore, your shoes are new, I bet all bloody Birmingham has new shoes so you really don’t have anything else to do here.”

“I want to help you.”

“Don’t.” You stated bluntly. “I don’t want your help or anything for the matter.”

“When I look around and see all I got, I should be pleased by the way things turned out. But I can’t… because I’m not sharing it with you.”

He was sincere and genuine, you knew that.

“Those were your dreams, not mine.” You added one more -an unnecessary- coat of product to clean the shoes, just to distract you from his gaze.

“Polly mentioned you need to move on. But I can’t let you go.” He was selfish without question, but those strong feelings for you didn’t go away even after marrying Grace.

“So I assume you’ll just go and use that razor blade in any potential man I lay my eyes on.”

“That’s not a bad idea, I’ll consider it thanks.” He added with a smile, loving the irritation in your eyes.

“What do you want Thomas?”

“You.”

It was one word but it included everything he really wanted.

“And what do you suggest then? You want me to be your mistress? That’s not going to happen.”

“Y/N…”

Emotions got the best of her, her eyes filled with tears. “I can’t love you in the dark.”

“Do you nee-”

I can't love you in the dark

It feels like we're oceans apart

There is so much space between us

Baby, we're already defeated

Shaking your head you gave him a warning look. “If you don’t leave right now, I’m going to start throwing shoes at your head for real.”

That was an image he would’ve loved to see, and deep down he knew you would do it without a doubt. So he decided to save himself the embarrassment and headed to the door, but before he even got to open the door, he turned to give you one more look.

Everything changed me

“Please just don’t kiss him the same way you kissed me… cause if you do, you’ll remember me.”

Your fist closed around the shoe you had been holding, way to expensive to throw it away, so instead you threw the brush you had been using. Letting out a groan in frustration.

Time didn’t make it any easier to forget him, all the opposite the feelings for him seemed to be stronger than ever, you wouldn’t stand between him and his son. You returned every single present and basket with fruits and flowers he sent over the last months right after reading every note he added to whatever the present was. His words were tattooed in your heart.

You have given me something that I can't live without

You mustn't underestimate that when you are in doubt

If only he didn’t see Grace back then, you’d be enjoying life together.

****

“You wanted to see me Tommy?” Scudboat poked his head from the door.

“Come in, close the door.” As he saw the blinder step in, he took a long swing of his whiskey, the liquid burning. “I need you to ask your wife to go to Y/N’s shoes shop.”

“Again?” Asked in shock Scudboat, he just went last week, but as Tommy gave him a dead stare, he hid his hands in his pockets.

“Yes, again, but ask her to go on Monday after eleven o’clock that’s after Y/N left for the market, and it will take her a while to go back to the shop and you’ll give her mother this money.” Tommy planned. He knew you’d go then to prepare lunch for your father and eat with him, then you’d take over the shoe shop while your mother returned home.

Tommy knew every single step you took, at what time you got the newspaper and each vendor you’d visit. Yet, you were so far away from him.

It was unfair for you, he knew that. He’d never ask you to be his mistress or anything, he just wished to find a fucking way to get you back. It was hard also for him to admit there was a time when he thought that maybe, just maybe over time he’d learn to love Grace like he used to years ago, but deep down he knew he’d never fully forgive her for betraying him. Let alone having a son together would make their marriage work.

But I don't want to carry on like everything is fine

The longer we ignore it, all the more that we will fight

“What happened Johnny?” Tommy cleared his throat getting anxious by the minute.

“Ehh you won’t like I-” Johnny muttered but he cut himself off when Grace stepped into the office.

“Tommy…” she looked over at Johnny several times, like trying to give him a hint to leave them. “It’s getting late.”

He found it extremely annoying to get interrupted, leaning back in his chair he flicked his cigarette. “I know.”

“Are you coming to say goodnight to Charlie?” She tried batting her eyelashes at him, the sweetest smile on her lips.

“Later, I’m working.”

“Bu-”One annoyed look and a loud sigh and Grace brought a hand to the end of her hair to disguise her disappointment. “Alright.”

Rolling his shoulders, Tommy looked at Johnny again. “So?”

“Tom I don’t like this, why can’t you just leave the poor girl alone? You’ve a family now, a boy.”

But Tommy kept shaking his head. “I’m paying you to watch her and report her moves to me, not asking if you like it or not.”

Polly knew him, his uncle Charlie was able to read him like the palm of his hand, but Johnny couldn’t understand the motives to keep tracking Y/N down.

“You broke up a year ago, got married… there’s no reason to-”

“Johnny, I’m not going to ask you again.” He dragged the words, if it wasn’t for the desk between them, he would’ve Johnny Dogs by the collar of his shirt now.

“Y/N is dating someone.” Johnny murmured, keeping his head down.

A heavy silence filled the Arrow House office.

Please, don't fall apart

I can't face your breaking heart

Tommy got up from his chair and walked quietly towards the window finding darkness only.

“Who is he?” He asked with more control than he expected.

Johnny made a face. “Don’t do this to yourself Tommy, let her move on.”

The man with icy eyes gave him a side look, it was enough to make him talk.

“He’s a Doctor, respectable, good background, treats her right, sends flowers every four or five days, walks with her to the park on Wednesdays and Fridays, on Saturday he goes in for dinner but leaves right after that. On Sundays she brings him food to the hospital and...”

“Apple pie?” Tommy completed while Johnny nodded.

Tommy knew the fucking recipe from start to finish, he could almost smell it and his mouth watered by the simple memory of how it tasted.

Did she give the doctor a small piece with her fork like she used to do with him?

Did she kiss the corner of his mouth after having a bite to remove the remains of sugar?

“That’s all Johnny, thank you.” He swallowed hard, memories making his chest ache.

Johnny wondered if he should also tell Tommy another thing he found out while following them.

Stopping right in front of the heavy door, Johnny twisted the peaky cap between his hands.

“He bought a ring two days ago Tommy.”

“Johnny,” His emotionless voice stopped him, “don’t follow her, you can go back to the gypsy camp.”

Once alone, Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose, defeated he took the glass of whiskey upstairs.

Looking at his son sleeping in his crib he couldn’t help but wonder why he made the mistake of fucking Grace that one time, he swore he could contain himself and he’d only use her to drive Campbell mad. But no, he was weak and the only time they were together she got pregnant. This wasn’t supposed to be how he envisioned his life, he wanted to date you, then propose to you, get married and start a family… you had been there for him to pick up the broken pieces from the ground that Grace left. Somehow you managed to make him softer, showed him he could trust and love again.

It wasn’t a surprise when you took a step back, didn’t accept his apologies, didn’t want to hear his explanations, packing your belongings from his office the very same night of the races, and closed the doors to your heart.

He begged, was willing to get on his knees to ask for forgiveness but you wouldn’t listen. His first mistake was to sleep with Grace that night, the second, marry her because she was with a child.

Was he being selfish? How could he let you go when you got so deep inside his heart?

You were slipping away from him, little by little, if you officially started a relationship with someone else, that man won’t waste time after realizing how fucking awesome you were, and if that happened, there was nothing left he could do to get you back.

I can't love you in the dark

It feels like we're oceans apart

There is so much space between us

“Why don’t you come to bed, Tommy?” Grace circled his desk and slipped her arms around his neck from behind. “It’s late.”

“In a minute.” He replied pretending to look at the papers scattered over the oak desk.

“I think you sho-”

“I said in a fucking minute!” He lost it.

Grace made a little jump when he raised his voice. “I heard what you said, I’m just trying to be a good wife.”

“Don’t try, Grace… just don’t try.” He added sharply.

“I’m doing everything I’m supposed to be doing Tommy, I take care of our house, look over Charlie, I make sure you’ve everything you need and yet I’m always alone here and when my husband is finally home by the end of the day I want him to take care of me.”

Tommy saw Grace toying with her wedding band.

“I’ve a load shit to do, alright?”

“Is that true or are you sleeping with some whore around?”

Her accusation made him snap his head at her. “What did you just said?”

“You haven’t even touch me in weeks…”

He wanted to sarcastically laugh at her question. You wouldn’t let him set a foot in your shop, let alone sleep in your bed.

“The way I see it, if you’re not with me that means you’re fucking someone else. Just tell me what you want and I’ll do it.”

He didn’t have the balls to say that the last time they slept together, he fantasized it was you instead of her, your name almost slipped out of his lips. But it would’ve drive Grace mad.

“I’m trying to go legal, Grace. That’s all… just go to sleep.”

“Tomm-” She started again but he cut her off.

“Don’t make me repeat myself again.”

Before she left, Tommy could swear he heard a sob but he was busy emptying the whiskey in his glass as he stared into the fire absently. Throwing his head back atop of the couch he wondered if you were by yourself that night.

The following day Grace insisted on joining him to visit his beloved horse, who was being trained at another facility. She started telling Charlie he’d see horses and the kid got too excited to advice her against the idea.

“… as I walked into the jewelry, I saw these lovely earrings that match perfectly…” Grace chatted non stop as they were on their way to the stables. He was looking forward a quiet day, but Grace had other ideas.

He just wished she could sleep just like Charlie was doing in her arms.

“Are you listening?”

Tommy dragged his eyes from the road to look at Grace for an instant, snapping out of his own thoughts.

“Yeah.”

“So what do you think?”

Shuddering, he took a long puff from his cigarette, feeling the smoke burn in his throat.

“I knew it, Tommy… you’re not paying attention.”

“Can you please stop this?!”

“Don’t raise your voice, you’ll wake up Charlie.” She tried but it was too late, the kid was already fussing. “See what you did?”

“You started this.” He pointed angrily.

“Shh, shh Charlie don’t cry.” Grace tried to get his boy settled, luckily he found a couple of horses out there.

“Look over there Charlie.” Tommy pointed. “There’s a horse.”

“Joshiee.” Charlie repeated, clapping.

Stopping the car, Tommy took Charlie in his arms, leaving Grace behind him. The gentleman in him wouldn’t be proud. But each passing day it was harder to pretend that he cared.

Placing his son on the ground, Tommy offered his hand to guide him.

“Come ‘ere.” Pointing at the fishes in the water trough, Tommy looked at the kid smiling with his chubby hand extended. “Goldfish keep the water clean.” He explained as if Charlie could understand. Grace joined them minutes later.

“I’ve been thinking… we should go away, for a family holiday.” Grace proposed brushing away a lock from her face.

Tommy shook his head instantly.

“Can’t do that, I’ve lots of work to do.”

“For a few days.” She tried again.

“No, you can go with Charlie though.”

Grace unamused expression didn’t have any effect on him. He was used by now.

*****

Tommy felt a rush of adrenaline through his body as he pushed past the people gathered on the street. The flames consuming the small shop, people trying to use buckets to attempt to extinguish the fire.

“Y/N!” Was all he could think of as he was desperately looking around for you.

We're not the only ones, I don't regret a thing

Every word I've said, you know I'll always mean

Everything was chaos.

Someone shoved him from behind, but since he let his guard down, he never noticed. An angry voice called for him and he recognized it right away.

“You must be happy now, finally kept your promise of burning my place down… MY MOTHER WAS INSIDE! You bastard! Get outta here!” Your fist landed on his chest as he was trying to process everything.

Tommy felt a rush of relief wash over him as he saw you were alive, but then he got in defensive mode.

“You destroyed years of hard work! My grand parents opened this store, my father started here cleaning shoes until he got a promotion and met my mother.” You spat with tears in your eyes, not caring about the venom and anger in your voice, or the people staring. “I HATE YOU THOMAS SHELBY, and I hope you pay for this.”

“I didn’t do this.” He let out a heavy sigh, shocked by your accusation.

His heart was shattered to know you thought he could do something like this. His stomach turned into a tight knot as he found the disappointment in your eyes.

“As if I didn’t know you, leave for good and don’t you ever come back.” You spat with anger oozing from every pore.

It is the world to me that you are in my life

But I want to live and not just survive

Walking backwards, he stumbled with someone who was trying to help. On his way to his vehicle he saw your mother sitting next to another woman on bench, at least she wasn’t injured.

“Find whoever did this.” Tommy instructed one of the blinders before leaving the place, he still couldn’t believe this was happening, but he had an engagement to attend and besides there was nothing he could do if you didn’t want him there.

Rushing into Arrow House he needed to hurry up to be on time, luckily Frances had his outfit prepared. The phone had been ringing in his office, but he really needed to get out of the house as soon as possible, after adjusting the last touches to his tuxedo, he moved to walk around the car, finding Grace already waiting for him. She welcomed him with a smile and a kiss that took him by surprise, there was something in her eyes different, it seemed like she didn’t had been bothering him about another woman in his life.

“Everything will get better for us after tonight Tommy, I just know.” She checked her reflection.

He doubted it was a possibility, but decided to have a peaceful night for once, specially at an event like this. He needed to raise funds.

“Where have you been? You were almost late.” She asked casually disturbing the peace he was looking for.

“Had some trouble at the shop. Finn messed up.” He lied.

“Hmm that’s weird, I looked for you there and couldn’t find you.”

“Went to the Garrison afterwards, that’s the reason I was late.” The lies slipped from his lips so easily.

She wanted to add something else, but Polly intercepted him by the door. “Scudboat has been looking for you, he looked deadly worried but wouldn’t tell me what’s going on.”

“Polly not now, please.” Turning around his head, he found the city Council leader with Grace.

And as they engaged in conversation, Tommy’s gaze was fixed by the entrance, as Father John Hughes and that insufferable MP entered. He couldn’t even stand to watch them, they weren’t welcome so he better hurry up to finish whatever the hell they’re wanted.

“Brother you need to know something.” Arthur whispered into his ear pushing him towards the staircase for some privacy.

With a heavy sigh, Tommy shook his head. “Not now Arthur, I can’t deal with anything else right now.” He spotted his wife talking to that mad Duchess.

“It was Grace.” Arthur admitted.

Confused, Tommy gave him a long look.

“Grace started the fire at the shoes shop, she saw a woman inside and thought it was Y/N. Someone recognized her.”

His head was spinning, anger building up and reaching unknown limits. Everything was so confusing, the bile rising up in his throat. Y/N could’ve been dead by now.

Storming like a bull he pushed past the people to find his wife.

“Come with me.” He grabbed Grace by the arm roughly making her gasp.

“Tommy I was talking to-”

“Why are you so worked up Mr. Shelby?” Tatiana smirked. His head was pounding. “I was telling your wife about the sapphire she’s wearing.”

“Tatiana said it’s Russian.” Grace interjected eager to participate.

And somehow the conversation escalated quickly, Tatiana kept pushing Grace’s buttons but at the moment he needed to keep the Duchess at bay. He’d deal with his wife’s jealousy later.

Scanning the room, he found Ada, fucking finally! Now he needed to deal with a spoiled princess he thought unamused. As his sister charmed Grace about a fucking donation, he tried to convince Tatiana it was a bad idea to go to the factory, but she was stubborn and had certain urgency to fuck him. There was nothing more discouraging than a woman selling herself off.

He was done. Fucking done of everything; the economic league, the duchess, his wife’s lies. This woman was absolutely mad

But time stopped as the duchess told him the sapphire had been cursed by a Gypsy. His ears were ringing, a shiver ran down his spine. Tommy had lost his faith back in France, but if there was one thing he believe in was spirits and Gypsy curses.

Speechless, he reached his wife in a few long strides.

“We need to talk.” Waving his hands anxiously he pointed at Grace’s necklace. “Take it off.”

“No, why?” Grace hissed visibly pissed off. “Tommy you gave it to me. Why are you doing this? You want to give it to someone else?”

“Here we fucking go.” He scoffed bothered. “I don’t fucking care, you want me to say this in front of them? Fine, I’ll tell you what I just learned.”

Anger was boiling inside of him, he simply didn’t care anymore.

He couldn’t explain the real reasons behind his request. “You told me you stopped by the office earlier huh?” He glanced someone passing towards the grand salon for diner. “But you forgot to mention that afterwards you stopped by at a shoes shop, the last place where a woman like you would be, Grace.” Looking up at the ceiling he blew the air he had been holding. “You started a fire at that shoes shop and don’t even try to lie, because people saw you.”

Grace’s features contorted. “Yes, I did it… because you’re distant with me, I know you wanted to marry that shoe saleswoman.”

Tommy saw red. “Yeah, I was going to marry her and when she heard you were pregnant she took a step back, walked away from me. That’s the biggest and selfless act of love.”

That's why I can't love you in the dark

“And where would you be today if it wasn’t for me?” She asked with her jaw clenched.

“Right here with her giving a beautiful speech about kindness.”

“I’m glad she’s dead by now.” She attempted to walk away, but Tommy took her by the shoulders.

“You should be thankful sh-”

“I don’t care about anything related to her.” Grace replied.

“Well, you should.”

“And why would I care about her?”

“BECAUSE I CARE ABOUT HER!” He lost control, Polly turned her head around at the shouting. “MORNING, NOON, AND NIGHT… I CARE ABOUT HER.”

Grace walked backwards, looking down.

“You’re lucky she wasn’t at the shop, she’s alive and I’m going to find her after the gala is over.” Tommy admitted triumphantly.

A man stormed in his direction out of the blue.

“For Angel!” He shouted right before firing his weapon.

The gunshot echoed in every corner of the room.

In the middle of the chaos, Tommy noticed Grace’s body leaned against him harshly, there was blood everywhere and people screaming. Tommy fell to the floor by the impact and Grace’s weightless body.

He called for help, and ambulance, anyone but Grace was already gone…

Someone took her lifeless body away from him and he wasn’t able to react, he remained frozen on spot in a corner. Replaying the images over and over.

Y/N swallowed hard after debating the entire afternoon whether if you were doing the right thing or not, yet here you stood if front of the venue where the Shelby family was leading a gala to raise funds to help people in need. One of the many dreams Tommy had shared with you.

Once the fire was controlled and people started to leave, one of the blinders who helped your mother to come out of it unharmed to let you know it had been Tommy’s wife the one who caused it, not him.

And guilt had been eating you alive ever since.

You needed to apologize for all the terrible things you said to him. You didn’t hate him, said it out of anger.

“Y/N! Oh, there’s been a tragedy… Grace is dead.”

****

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I’m so happy the first part was so well accepted, hoping this following part will like you too… did you see that coming? If you have a few minutes, I’d LOVE to hear what you think!

Master list

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[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 13 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When Nat and Bob are in imminent danger, Bradley is beyond furious about the decisions that have been made. It should have been him up there flying with them. As you count down the minutes until Bradley returns home, the rush of nerves feels more like anxiety than anticipation, and that does not feel good.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff

Length: 5100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

Now that you were just a few days out from Bradley's return home, you were starting to feel antsy and anxious. This wasn't the way you usually felt. It used to be a rush of energy thrumming through your body, knowing he'd be back soon to hold you all night, make love to you, and fill the little pieces of your life that were lost without him. But now you just felt unsure.

When you really thought about it, you knew you and he had been missing the intimacy in your relationship for a little while, too focused on other things. The sex was still enjoyable... well, except for the last time when you felt sick with obligation. And he still held you all night. But some of the pieces of your life together felt like they had gotten lost, and you desperately wanted to find them. Because feeling nervous about reaching those previously known levels of happiness and intimacy when Bradley got back was not something you were prepared for.

So you talked to Dr. Genevieve again, and in her cool and collected voice, she said, "If something is broken, you either take the time to fix it, or you abandon it. And when it's a relationship, you don't have the luxury of making that decision alone. Do you want to fix it or abandon it?"

"I want to fix it," you replied easily. 

"And what did your husband say when you spoke to him?"

Your heart thudded in your chest as you replayed the facetime conversations in your mind and whispered, "He wants to fix it, too." 

She nodded. "Then you'll both take the time to do that."

Afterwards, you felt like hiding in your office, because what did that even mean? You knew what you wanted, but you didn't know how to get it. And you tried your best not to focus on your cycle and wanting to get pregnant, but it would have been impossible to forget about it completely. Where was the balance? You were simultaneously antsy for Bradley to get home so you could see if putting in the time to fix things was worth it and also scared that it wouldn't be.

Instead of hiding in your office, you made your way down to get a burrito bowl for lunch. "Is this seat taken?" you asked Jake, kicking the leg of his chair with your boot and nodding toward the empty seat across from him at the small table. 

"Angel," he said, meeting your smile with a look of panic. "You know I love you, right? But I saved it for Cat. Unless she decides to bail."

"Oh," you gasped, a little surprised by that. When you, Javy and Jake had gone out for pizza two nights ago, Jake claimed he was going to let Cat decide if she wanted to try to be friends with him, but you knew he was hoping for more. He sat on your couch with Jeremiah until Hondo showed up, and Jake didn't back down against the glare from Cat's Uncle. "Guess she's into the idea of hanging out? That's good?"

He kind of shrugged. "Listen, all I want to do is make out with her and hold her kid, but don't tell her that, alright? Oh, there she is."

"She didn't bail," you murmured, watching Cat make her way toward you. When she saw the small table with only two chairs, her steps slowed.

"Go," Jake growled, planting his palm against your lower back and shoving you out of the way. "I'll call you after work."

"Jeez," you groaned, glaring at him and heading toward Cam instead.

"Hey, stranger," Cam said as you sat down across from him, and soon Maria joined the two of you. Eating with them was familiar and comfortable, and you didn't have to think about it too much.

When they asked if you wanted to do brunch on Sunday, you smiled and shook your head. "No way. Bradley's coming home on Friday."

Cam smirked and said, "Oof. Lieutenant Commander Mustache returns home to his little wifey after his long, hard deployment. Sounds like a Lifetime movie."

"I don't know," Maria added. "You said long and hard. Kinda sounds like a porno."

You sat with your forehead on your tray as you shook with silent laughter. "Maybe it'll be a bit of both?"

Cam stole a bite of your burrito bowl as he said, "Report back."

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

Bradley had been chosen as the spare. When Dean told him after he had dismissed everyone else, Bradley knew it was simply to add insult to injury. But he took it on the chin, saluted the admiral, and returned to his bunk.

If Bradley said more than two words to anyone the following day, that was news to him. Nat and Bob gave him a wide berth as they got themselves prepared for the mission, and he appreciated that. He wasn't jealous of them, and he'd been quick to tell them that. And he knew they understood. This was a feeling that came along with the territory, he supposed. But this would mark the first mission he didn't qualify for, and he just needed to take a breather. 

Getting home to you was now his priority, his focus. If he could only be successful in the air or on the ground right now, he was going to choose the ground in San Diego with you. But that didn't stop him from worrying about Bob and Nat flying with Slayer. 

Bradley collapsed back onto his bed with his notebook. He decided to read what he wrote. He hadn't done that yet, favoring scribbling more thoughts and sentiments down every time he picked it up. But reading it from the beginning calmed him down, and just the thought of you made him finally able to fall asleep. 

Bright and early the next morning, he and Bob were both dressing in their flight suits. They walked to breakfast together and ate with Nat. Then the three of them made their way out onto the tarmac. But instead of being part of the main bustle of action, Bradley saluted his friends and stood next to his aircraft with his helmet on. 

The weather looked good, and the comanche was reporting back that everything looked clear. But just before the four aircrafts were due to take off, Admiral Dean made a surprising announcement over the comms. 

"Initiate the backup plan! Option B! Strike the military base first and then head back around to the communications tower. Follow the flight plan for Option B. Please respond that you understand in order."

Bradley climbed the ladder into his F/A-18 as he listened to Nat respond, saying that she copied Dean's orders. This was not a good sign that the plan was changing on the fly. There were probably loads of enemy aircrafts already airborne if such a drastic decision was being made, and Bradley automatically switched to the updated flightpath in his mind, even though he wouldn't be flying it. But being able to envision what was going on might help keep him calm. 

He got himself strapped in and ran his thumb along his silicone wedding band before sliding his hands into his gloves. And then he waited. He watched intently and listened over the comms, and when it was his turn, he said, "Rooster. Spare. Standing by."

The carrier was outrageously far out in the ocean right now. Nearly five hundred miles away from the coastline. And as he watched Nat and Bob launch from the deck, he kept his eyes on them as they faded into the late morning sunlight. It would be about thirty minutes until they were flying over land, and another five minutes more until they reached the military base. 

So he would have to sit here and wait for nearly an hour and a goddamn half while worrying about his friends and having an existential crisis about his career before they all returned and he could get changed out of his flight suit. 

"Unbelievable," he muttered to himself as he listened to the others over the comms. Slayer had been named team leader, and right now he was trying to boss Nat around. She wasn't having it though, and Bradley smiled as he listened in. 

But a few minutes later, he heard the radar tech from the comanche give a heads up that there were some enemy aircraft nearby. And then Slayer said, "Everyone else stay on course, I'll switch to tack northwest and hit the communications tower first."

Bradley lurched fully upright in his cockpit. He must have heard incorrectly. No way Slayer would deviate from the plans like that. But Bradley could hear Nat's panicked voice saying, "You won't have our laser guide! And we won't have your missiles! Stay on course, Slayer!"

"I'm the leader, Phoenix. You stay on course. I'll loop back around. It will be fine."

There was so much commotion all of a sudden, Bradley could only hear a jumble of voices inside his helmet. He did some quick math, visualizing the terrain maps he'd had memorized for nearly two months. Five hundred miles out. Five hundred back. They weren't flying at maximum speed, but they were still burning fuel fast, hauling almost two dozen missiles. There was absolutely no way Slayer would make it back to the carrier if he tried to switch course now and rendezvous with the others at the military base. He'd run out of fuel halfway back to the aircraft carrier. 

"Stay on course!" Admiral Dean demanded loudly. "Everyone stay on course!"

But Slayer was already gone. And now the comanche radar tech was reporting four more enemy fighters in the vicinity of the military base. Bradley pounded his fist on the side of his seat. Nat and Bob were completely fucking screwed. And so were Charmer, Mack and Terror. Unless all six aviators were working in unison, this was going to result in a tragedy. 

"Come on, come on," Bradley chanted under his breath, his fingers already twitching along his control panels. He thought about his friends whose handful of missiles would only get them so far before they were dead without cover. And he thought about you, but then again you were never far from his mind. His perfect wife. The main reason he did anything.

Finally his thoughts settled on the fact that he'd left his wedding band at home with you, and he felt calm knowing that you'd always wear it on your chain. 

"Send the spare." His Super Hornet was being towed to the catapult.

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

It was a weird, stormy evening. There were clouds rolling in from the ocean, and although you could see a lot of lightning and hear thunder, it hadn't started raining yet. So you put on Bradley's sweatshirt and clipped Tramp's leash onto his collar, running your fingers along the tags your husband had gotten engraved for him. 

"Yeah, you're spoiled," you told the dog as you pocketed some treats for him. Then the two of you ventured outside and along the blocks that would take you to the beach. The wind was blowing harder down here, whipping the sand and dune grass around. But the beach was completely deserted, and the storm looked intoxicating. 

As you walked along the water's edge, your flip flops and sweatpants got soaked. Tramp kept pausing to look out into the ocean, and you said, "Daddy's out there. Somewhere." You weren't sure exactly when the mission was being flown. It could have already been completed. You had enough clearance at work to be able to find out for sure, but if Bradley caught wind of that kind of behavior, he would have a fit. You knew he didn't want you worrying about him. 

Tramp whimpered and started barking, and then the clouds rolled in faster. A loud crack of thunder had you running back up the beach with Tramp right next to you. By the time you ran up past the dunes, the sky opened up. You turned back to look at the ocean one last time before hard raindrops started pelting your exposed skin. It was almost painful, and it was hard to keep your eyes open as you made your way back to the pretty craftsman. 

You stood on the covered porch, looking down at your sandy, drenched dog and laughing. "Come here," you said before scooping him up and carrying him right into the bathroom, leaving a sandy trail along the way. 

If Bradley were here, he would take Tramp off your hands and clean him up as you soaked in the tub yourself. But for now, you'd do everything. He'd be back soon. You would take the time to fix things soon.

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

Once Bradley was in the air, the clock was ticking down the minutes until he could see land and locate the others. He'd been given permission to hit mach 1.8. Actually, he'd been given permission to do whatever was necessary. "Spare inbound. Land sighted," he said, easing back on the throttle a bit as he banked along the mountain range and dipped past the river that would lead him to the recently destroyed military base. 

Slayer had managed to destroy the communications tower as part of the solo mission he decided to go on, but at what cost? He got so far off course from the others, and backtracking would have eaten so much fuel. Bradley listened as he was called back to the carrier where he would be safe while everyone else was now in danger. 

Bradley was getting closer now as he listened to what was going on and tried to visualize it.

"Tally, tally! On your nose, Phoenix!"

"Deploying flares!"

"Incoming at twelve o'clock!"

"I can't shake them, Charmer!"

"I'm out of missiles and flares! Switching to guns!"

"We took a hit!"

He would know Nat's voice anywhere, but hearing her say that she and Bob had been hit had Bradley flying way faster than he should have been this close to the river embankment. But one more cut through the mountains, and the aircrafts were in sight. And it was the worst kind of dog fight. 

The air was a mess of flares as Bradley immediately spotted missiles being launched at Charmer. And he knew Charmer said he was out of defensive aids. 

"Tally, tally!" Bradley called out. "Bandit on your nose, Terror!" Then he laid down a cover of flares for Charmer as the other pilot eliminated one enemy with his guns. "Phoenix! Bob! How bad is it?" Bradley asked, deftly launching a missile and watching it collide with the wing of the jet that was headed for Terror. The enemy pilot ejected, but there was no point in pursuit. Not on a rescue mission. 

"We're leaking fuel," Bob shouted, and Bradley could actually hear all of the alarms going off in their Super Hornet through the comms. "Rapidly." Then Phoenix dodged past Charmer and shot down another enemy jet. "And we're out of ammo," Bob added.

"Head back, I'll lay down cover for you," Bradley told them. "Go!" There were still two Bandits, but his friends would never make it back anywhere near the carrier if they delayed leaving. He could smell the jet fuel as it permeated the air around him, and he just knew what a hazard that was. He prayed nothing would cause an explosion at this point.

"Out of ammo now," Charmer reported, and now Bradley was starting to panic. But then he saw the opening they needed. 

"Terror! Follow my lead!" The remaining Bandits saw how vulnerable Nat and Bob were and started to pursue them, so Bradley circled back to get their attention on him.

"I'm almost out of ammo!" Terror responded, getting into position. 

"Then don't miss." Bradley fired his last missile at the first one and then joined Terror and Mack in shooting down the other one. 

"That's splash six!" Charmer announced. 

"Is that everyone?" Terror asked. 

"Affirmative. That's everyone," Mack confirmed. 

"I want everyone back on this carrier, now!" Dean nearly shouted through the comms, and Bradley rolled his eyes. "Phoenix, land first, if you can even get here!"

Then thankfully he eventually heard Nat say, "We're limping in slowly now. It's gonna be close."

What a fucking nightmare this had turned out to be. As Bradley flew cleanup, since he was the only one with bullets and flares left, he kept his head on a swivel. "Comanche? Incoming?"

"Negative. Picture looks clean."

"And an ETA for Phoenix and Bob?" he asked as he followed Charmer and Terror out over the water.

"Seven minutes."

Bradley swore he didn't breathe and barely moved as he flew further away from the coastline. He didn't dare think about anything except the passing clouds overhead and the sound of his own heart beating. He didn't utter another word until he heard Nat say, "Coming in hot! Banking toward the tower. Full engine failure, no fuel to the feedline. Tailhook extended and hoping for the best."

"Come on, Nat." Bradley still couldn't see anything up ahead, but when the tower announced that Phoenix and Bob were safely on deck, he finally let out the breath he had been holding.

When he was able to circle the carrier and see it for himself, Bradley loosened his death grip on the throttle. And when he landed cleanly, that signaled that everyone was back on deck. The crews came to help him unload, and as soon as his boots left the last rung on the ladder, Nat was tossing her helmet aside and reaching for him.

"Thank you," she whispered against his shoulder. 

Years of trust and friendship had him clinging to her. "It should have been me up there with you two the whole time."

"I know. That was so fucked, Rooster."

And then Bob was there as well, looking more flustered than Bradley had seen him all deployment long. But then Bradley pushed past both of them and tossed his own helmet, shouting "What the hell, Slayer!"

But Slayer barely acknowledged him as he walked toward the tower looking like he was headed for the gallows. Bradley stood there, drenched in sweat and reeking of jet fuel, and watched the other aviator as a red faced Admiral Dean appeared on deck and started yelling. It didn't matter. It didn't matter that Slayer fucked everything up or that Bradley saved the day. The only thing that counted now was getting home to you.

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

Friday morning seemed to stretch on for an eternity. You didn't have a specific time to expect Bradley to unload from the carrier, so you decided to go to work until you heard from him. When Bickel called you in for a progress meeting on all of the lab projects, you hauled a stack of folders in with you. And that's when you fully realized that over several years of working with him, he had made you his number two. He always wanted your opinion the most.

"How are you feeling?" he asked as you set everything down on his desk and took a seat. He met your eyes, and he was expecting an honest answer, but you knew he wouldn't give you a hard time. 

"Better. Bradley is coming home today," you told him. "Thanks again." But he just waved you off like it was no big deal and opened up the top folder on the stack. 

Later when you went down to eat lunch, you got cornered by Jake. "Come sit with me."

You just smirked as you grabbed a fistful of tiny packets of hot sauce. "Don't you want to sit with Cat?"

"No, I want to sit with you. Rooster comes back today, and I'll never see you again," he replied. "I know you're struggling, but the two of you will be disgusting again soon."

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. You were nervous. It had been building up all week. Part of you just wanted to get this over with and work things out, and part of you wanted to bask in Bradley's words as he told you how much he missed and loved you. If he told you those things. 

"I miss being disgusting," you told Jake as you followed him to a table. "But I still want to have a baby." You felt tears in your eyes as you sat down, and Jake met your gaze. "I'm anxious that Bradley is going to talk about my cycle and want to know when I'm ovulating. It's bad enough that I know I'm ovulating right now, you know? I don't want him thinking about it, too. And, fuck, I'm sorry Jake."

"Hey, no," he said, reaching across the table and squeezing your hand. "I love that you want to talk to me about stuff. But just dump your hot sauce all over your lunch and take a deep breath. Let Bradley get home and prove to you that he wants to fix things as much as you do. Give him a chance, Angel."

But your nerves carried through lunch. And now you were scared that your husband wouldn't greet you the way he always did. You were afraid that you were just a fragile, broken thing in his eyes, and there would be some sort of undertone of rejection even though the two of you said you were on the same page over facetime. 

As you walked back to your office, your phone vibrated with a text, and you already knew it was him without even looking. Your heart started pounding, knowing what you needed but unsure if you were going to get it. 

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3: I have phone reception! I can see the dock! I should be off this thing around four or five. Think you can skip out of work a little early and meet me? I missed you so much.

No turning back now. A smile actually broke out on your face. There would be no time to run home and change, but it didn't matter. You had missed him, too. 

I'll be there. Of course I'll be there.

When you mentioned to Bickel that you were going to leave two hours early, he told you to have a nice weekend. And when Cat saw you packing up your computer at 3:30, she walked over and gave you a little hug. 

"Don't be nervous."

You tried to act cool. "I'm not."

"I can tell you are. Just enjoy your weekend with your husband. I'll stay late if need be and finish the coding."

"Thanks," you muttered. You and she never explicitly talked about the fact that you were jealous that she had tiny Jeremiah in her life, but you knew she knew. And you were okay with that. 

As you jogged out to the Bronco in the parking garage, you found you were only thinking about one thing: how good it felt every time Bradley wrapped his strong arms around you and held you against his warm body. 

"Shit," you gasped, fumbling the key in the ignition. You needed that. That was it. "Fuck." You could barely start the engine, but when you finally did, you pulled quickly out of the parking space and headed the half mile or so around base toward the military docks. When you drove through the gates and parked again, you could see khaki uniforms pouring down the ramps and onto the dock.

"Oh no." You were out of the Bronco and running, scrambling for your phone. But as you got closer to the ramp, you spotted Bradley. He was so easy to pick out of a crowd. Tall and broad and impossibly handsome with his duffle bag slung over his shoulder. His head was on a swivel, probably wondering if you were here yet. 

And then you froze up. Every feeling hit you all at once as he stepped down onto the dock, boots back on California soil for the first time in almost two months. He looked to his left and then to his right, searching for you, and you could tell he was about to reach for his phone as his hand dipped down toward his pocket. But then he saw you. And that was when you realized that he had the same look of apprehension on his face that you must have had on yours. 

It was so noisy, and there were hundreds of people on all sides of you, but you could see him mouth, "Baby Girl," before his lips formed into a smile that had your feet rushing forward. Bradley was actually shoving people out of his way now which had you laughing. And when you realized you weren't so nervous anymore, tears started to fill your eyes. 

"Baby Girl!" he called out, and a second later, you were in those strong, sure arms that you loved so much. 

"Bradley." But the sound of his name was muffled as he kissed you, holding you so close to him that only your toes touched the ground as you wrapped your arms around his neck. You smiled against him as he shook his bag free and let it drop to the ground next to him, but he didn't break the kiss. 

Every voice around you and the warm sunshine melted into a dreamlike quality. You wanted to stay here in his arms where you finally felt comfortable. There was a lot to say, and you'd get to it eventually, but the feel of his big hands and his mustache were so familiar that you felt more confident again. 

When he finally broke the kiss, Bradley pressed his forehead to yours and kept one big hand at the back of your neck, stroking your skin softly as you shuddered in his arms. "I love you," he promised, voice full of desperation like he was begging you to listen. "I just needed to be with you."

You closed your eyes against your tears and whispered, "I love you, Roo." 

Then his rough fingers were moving slowly along the back of your neck, his other hand coming up to work at the clasp of your necklace. You smiled when you realized what he was doing. Bradley removed your necklace but kept his body pressed against yours and he carefully palmed your gold charms. 

"Been dying to put this back on since I took it off." He kissed your cheek and then slid his wedding band along the chain before carefully clasping your necklace in place again. Then he quickly removed the silicone ring and pocketed it before slipping his gold band into place. "It just didn't feel right. It's not the one we got married with."

And then his arms were wrapped around your waist, and you let your cheek come to rest on his chest. You didn't want to be the first one to say it, but you thought one of you should. About how much you wanted to fix things. About making things work. "Bradley."

But you shouldn't have been worried. He kissed the top of your head, his grip on you unrelenting as so many of the other officers and crew members around you were starting to clear out. "I promise you that you're everything I want. And I'll make sure you know it."

So you nodded and melted into his touch. And it was quite a while later before you moved, but you could hear Bradley's stomach growling which made you smile. "I have some Marry Me Rooster in our fridge that just needs to be reheated." 

He peppered your face with kisses until you were laughing. "Let's go home," he whispered. "Wanna see Tramp and snuggle you on my lap while we eat."

After Bradley had you safely buckled in the passenger seat, he started the engine, and you could tell he missed his Bronco too. He held your hand on the short drive home, and you filled him in on a few things. When he parked in the driveway and helped you out, you asked, "How was your deployment? I didn't even get to see Bob and Nat."

He kissed you softly as you unlocked the front door. "I'll tell you later. It's not as important as this. As being with you."

Your heart swelled as Tramp tried to jump up into Bradley's arms. "Missed you, too," Bradley told him, kneeling and scratching him behind his ears while the dog kicked his other hand. "Were you a good boy?"

"Of course he was. The best." You squeaked as Bradley scooped you up for a piggy back ride as he stood, and he carried you to the laundry room with Tramp jumping around behind you. "What are you doing?" you asked, kissing Bradley's ear as you held onto his shoulders.

"Just want to get out of my uniform before we eat." 

When he set you down and turned, you carefully unbuttoned his shirt and started working on his pins. His hands settled on your waist, stroking you through the fabric of your own khaki uniform shirt. And his eyes were soft. And he wasn't in a rush, except maybe to get dinner. And he wasn't asking about your cycle. And he didn't seem interested in doing anything at this moment except working on your pins and lining them up in the tray near the sink along with his. 

"I missed doing this," you whispered, and then his lips found yours again. And it was a few minutes before Bradley let go of you long enough for both of you to finish getting undressed and put your uniforms into the washing machine. 

"Let me put on some sweatpants, and I'll help you reheat dinner," he said, hoisting you up for another piggy back ride that had you laughing. 

"Sounds good, Roo."

He bent to pick up his duffle on the way to the bedroom, and you helped him empty and sort everything onto your bed. When you dipped your hand inside the bag, you pulled out some neatly folded undershirts and a beat up notebook. You flipped open to the first page while Bradley sat on the floor to play with Tramp. 

Baby Girl, when I think about you, I think about the rest of my life spread out in front of me. And it's not exactly like a map, because I don't know where we are going or where we will end up. But I feel safe when I'm with you. Even though so much is unknown.

You carefully closed the notebook and pressed your lips together, unsure if you were supposed to read that. "Roo?" you asked quietly, and Bradley looked up at you as you showed him the notebook. "What is this?"

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

He's home! Finally! And Slayer is hopefully completely screwed. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 14

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[soaplickerrr]

Accidentally Coincidental

CHAPTER 6 (click pictures for better quality)

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a/n: updates will be slow, i'm working on a pretty long fic on my side blog.

pairing: Idol!Kim Seungmin x Fem!CollegeStudent!Reader

genre: contemporary romance

SMAU

synopsis: Y/N, a regular college student accidentally texts Seungmin, a star in the K-pop group Stray Kids while trying to text her Ex, Soonyoung to come pick up his things, leading to an unexpected connection that blossoms into a heartfelt romance.

ignore time stamps, dates ( other than tge ones mentioned during texting) and typos

THERES A WRITTEN PART SO DONT JUST SCROLL THROUGH THE PICTURES🙏🙏

The meeting room at JYP Entertainment was filled with a palpable tension as the key players gathered around the large, polished table. The CEO sat at the head, flanked by the editing team manager and Bang Chan's own manager. The atmosphere was serious, almost formal, as everyone waited for Bang Chan to speak.

Chan cleared his throat, his usual easygoing demeanor replaced by a more focused, determined air. He knew this wasn’t just any conversation—this was about convincing the higher-ups to take a chance on someone they’d never even met.

“Thank you all for taking the time to meet today,” Chan began, his voice steady and professional. “I want to talk about an opportunity that could benefit both our company and someone outside of it. I’ve recently heard about someone who has a passion for editing, specifically in the realm of music videos. Given that we’re currently short-staffed in the editing department, I think we should seriously consider giving this person a chance.”

The CEO raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical but willing to listen. “And who exactly is this person? Do they have experience in the industry?”

Chan nodded. “She’s not a seasoned professional, but she has talent and a genuine love for the craft. What I’m proposing isn’t an immediate hire. Instead, I suggest we put her through a rigorous test—a project that would allow us to gauge her skills. If she passes, we hire her. If she doesn’t, we look elsewhere. It’s a win-win situation. We get to explore potential new talent without committing prematurely.”

The editing team manager leaned forward, interested but cautious. “What kind of test are you thinking? We can’t afford to waste time on someone who might not be up to par.”

“That’s exactly why I’m proposing a test,” Chan explained. “We can assign her a project—something that’s demanding but realistic. She can work on a segment of an upcoming music video or even a practice reel. We give her a deadline, clear guidelines, and see how she performs under pressure. It’s a controlled environment where we get to see what she’s really capable of.”

The CEO interjected, his tone still carrying a hint of doubt. “And what makes you so confident in this person? We’ve had people with potential come through before, only to realize they weren’t cut out for the pace and demands of this industry.”

Chan met the CEO’s gaze steadily. “I’m confident because I’ve seen her work. More than that, I’ve seen her passion. This isn’t just about filling a role—it’s about bringing in someone who genuinely cares about what they do. Someone who sees the art in editing, who understands the nuances of our music and visuals. I believe she has what it takes, but I’m not asking you to take my word for it. That’s why I’m proposing the test. Let her work speak for itself.”

There was a moment of silence as the CEO considered Chan’s words. The room was thick with anticipation, everyone waiting to see which way the decision would go.

The CEO finally nodded, a small but decisive gesture. “Alright, Chan. You’ve made a compelling case. We’ll arrange the test. If she meets our standards, we’ll consider bringing her on board. But I want to be clear—this is a one-shot deal. If she doesn’t impress, we move on.”

Chan smiled, relieved but still composed. “Understood. I’ll work with the editing team to get everything set up.”

The meeting wrapped up soon after, with everyone agreeing on the next steps. As the others filed out of the room, Chan stayed behind for a moment, letting the success of the conversation sink in. He had done it—he had convinced them to give her a chance. Now, it was up to her to prove herself.

Once he was alone, Chan couldn’t contain his excitement any longer. He quickly pulled out his phone and sent Seungmin a message, his fingers moving swiftly across the screen.

Seungmin’s POV

Seungmin stared at his phone in disbelief, a grin slowly spreading across his face as he realized what this meant. He quickly composed a message to Y/N, his heart racing with excitement.

Your POV

Seungmin put his phone down, unable to wipe the grin off his face. He couldn’t wait to see how this would all unfold. For now, he just hoped that Y/N was ready for what was coming her way.

———

Seungmin’s POV:

BONUS:

I dont like this chapter and college sucks.

😃👍

TAGLIST - CLOSED - if your name is in pink, I couldn’t tag you

@disasterousdangerousbi @akitfffr @alexateurmom @jeonginplsholdmyhand @sunarins-whore @feelikecinderella @minniesuperversee @istglevi-gotmesimping @dreamerwasfound @whiteghostt @your-favorite-pirate @pnutbutter-n-j-elyy @chuuyaobsessed @ihrtlix @onlyhyunjin @jisuperboard @dazzlingjade @sellomaybe @lixiesbrownies333 @kkamismom12 @iatemycatfreckles @puppyminnnie @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @ayyonoona @missvanjii @jc003 @dontwannaexsist @everglowdaisies

[ozzgin]

Hi! I love your works, especially the baki ones. Is it okay for me to request something, like a continuation from your last pickle fic, where the reader is baki's S/O. What if the cute stage then develops into a "potential mate" type?

I really feel like baki would instantly go full on Hanma on pickle tbh, can I get your take on it/headcannon regarding this?

-🍲 anon

I had been wondering if I should leave it as purely platonic or include some tension, so I can definitely do that! Thank you for the suggestion!

Baki Headcanons: Pickle meets Baki’s significant other (II)

Featuring Baki, his cute partner and a Pickle who’s starting to reconsider their playful friendship.

Pickle may be somewhat primitive compared to modern times, but on the social front at least he is very much aware of the nuances that come with a relationship. He’s had friends and mates and knows the difference between the two. Therefore, he’s not entirely ignorant of the current circumstances: you’re Baki’s mate and more of a playmate to himself.

This at least has been made clear to him, sure. But, and here comes the but, having a mate is not some arbitrary decision to be set in stone. It’s more a matter of competition and what one has to offer. And as much as he enjoys the little games you’ve devised and the overall bonding activities, he really can’t help the little tug that bothers his heart every time he looks at you. What is life about if not following one’s wishes and desires?

Even before he reaches this conclusion there’s plenty of hints that unfortunately go over your innocent obliviousness. The hugs that drag along more than usual. The focused gaze that disregards any other distraction. Pickle’s hair ruffles that linger a moment too long as his hand subconsciously wanders to your cheek instead. Baki has been doing his best to ignore the little flirting attempts to avoid you teasingly calling him jealous. He has nothing to worry about, in any case. Right?

Pickle sees his opportunity and does not hesitate to seize it: what better way to show you that he’s a superior choice than utterly defeating and humiliating your tiny boyfriend? When Baki approaches him with the challenge proposal, the large prehistoric man is nearly dizzy with excitement. After the speedy quarrel that leaves the young boy unconscious, Pickle hastily approaches you and does his best to imitate the strange lip contact he’s often observed you initiating with Baki. Your high pitched reaction of surprise is enough to have Baki awake and instantly back on his feet.

Needles to say that an angered Hanma is a scary opponent. You have to plead for the bloodied outcome to stop before Baki does anything regretful. Seeing your boyfriend’s wild, predatory expression quickly drains the blood from your face and reminds you the kind of family you’ve joined. Pickle doesn’t exactly share your fear. He’s certainly shocked about the sudden twist in strength, but more than anything he’s frustrated with himself for losing the bet that would’ve guaranteed your companionship.

Alas, the Jurassic man does not give up just like that. Perhaps being at the top of the food chain for so long has gotten him rusty, too comfortable with his skills. This was an embarrassing reminder that there’s room for improvement. Maybe he’ll even give it a try to these mysterious techniques the previous fighters displayed. He can take his time. But one thing is to be established and indisputable: you will be his mate sooner or later.