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ylangelegy · 2 months ago

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⋆.˚ don't ask "what are we?" ♡︎ skz.

── .✦ headcanons of how the members of stray kids would be like if you were in a 'situationship' with them, ala-i like it. the boys are a bit 🚩 in this one, to varying degrees— you have been warned.

CHAN.

Chan doesn't have the time to date properly. In between managing expectations as a leader and keeping all the boys in line, he hardly has a moment to think of being in a dedicated relationship. He thinks it would only be a distraction from his goal, from everything he has built so carefully over the years.

And so maybe he settles for the next best thing— being just a little too close with you, someone who's supposed to be just a friend. Chan treats you like he's your boyfriend.

He sends 'u up?' texts at 3 AM. He spends his days off at your apartment, just lounging around. He'll hug you at any chance that he gets and chalk it up to the fact that he's always been physically affectionate.

When it comes to blurred lines, it's the worst with him. He's perfectly polite and still plenty friendly, enough to have you justifying that he probably treats everyone this way. Right?

After the nth 'u up?', after the one where you've finally had enough and you respond with "Why do you keep doing this to me?", Chan is frankly just horrified. He had no idea that his affections could be misinterpreted— a product both of his culture, and his comfort with you.

Chan will apologize profusely, will say things about 'never wanting to get your hopes up' and 'being more careful in the future'. He'll probably try his darndest to fall back in to being friends with you, but it won't work. He doesn't know how to be just friends with you.

At the end of the day, the group and its image will always come first for Chan. He wouldn't risk it for anything. If there had been a part of him that had even considered being with you, it's kept under lock and key. He tells himself over and over again that it's for the better.

🎧 friends, ed sheeran | friends don't treat me like you do— and i know that there's a limit to everything, but my friends won't love me like you.

MINHO.

When Minho needs to not be Lee Know, when he just needs to be Minho from Gimpo, he knows that he can count on you. It's Minho's style, to mess around with someone who knew him before all of this— the idol lifestyle, the worldwide stardom.

Minho is aware that he's being a little cruel. You only ever hear from him when he's back home, after all. He gives you nothing of his life in Stray Kids; instead, he gives you the scraps of the boy he once was.

He visits on the rare holiday and the even rarer day-offs. He'll roll his eyes when you ask him to cook for you, but he'll already have all the ingredients to your favorite dishes. He'll complain about you sitting on the kitchen counter, but he'll still listen to your stories about work, about your day-to-day life.

You could convince yourself that you're just two friends who are catching up. But if you squint, you see the little things. How Minho's comments about your suitors are always a touch bitter and snide. How his gaze lingers as you eat the meal he prepared.

And when you ask him, one evening, "Why are you here, Minho?", you almost miss the look on his face. Almost. But it's gone as quickly as it came, replaced with something closer to boredom. "Because I want to be," he'll say. A part of you knows that he means it. Another part of you wishes that he meant it in a different way.

Minho keeps coming home to you, but he also keeps leaving the next day. He never looks back as he drives away.

🎧 'tis the damn season, taylor swift | we could call it even, you could call me babe for the weekend... i'm stayin' at my parents' house, and the road not taken looks real good now.

CHANGBIN.

It should come as no surprise that Changbin finds romance in the gym. It's one of the few places he frequents outside of the company or the dorms, and it's rare for any of the boys to be with him as he goes.

Maybe you know who he is. Maybe you don't. Changbin can't really bring himself to care. The only thing he's concerned about is that your form is atrocious; he's concerned you're going to break your back if you keep it up. On the day he caves, he does it so casually— a cool offer of "Need a gym buddy?"

The two of you fall in to a ninety-minute routine every M-W-F. At first, it's strictly companionship. Over time, it becomes a little closer to friendship. And then— does Changbin's hand stay a beat too long at the small of your back? Is his hold on your bicep just a little on the possessive side? You're not entirely sure.

If nothing ever happens, it's not for the lack of trying. You've asked Chanbgin out to dinner, to drinks, but he always gives you a sheepish smile and some flimsy excuse. Prior plans. A strict diet.

Still, he's devastatingly funny, and always sincere when he compliments your progress. He touches you like you're fragile and his eyes follow you across the gym. It's torturous, the plausible deniability that you both attempt to maintain. Months in to this arrangement, you try to ask him out one last time. Like every other instance before, he looks like he's genuinely debating it.

But, like every other instance before, he shakes his head. You go your separate ways after the usual pleasantries— good night, see you next week, take care— and you learn that some things are just not meant to work out.

🎧 goodnight n go, ariana grande | it's bad enough we get along so well; just say 'good night' and go.

HYUNJIN.

Honestly, anything akin to a 'situationship' would kill a hopeless romantic like Hyunjin. A part of him thinks that he'd rather stay single than deal with the uncertainties of a casual relationship, than not give his all to just one person.

It gets lonely, though. A lot lonelier than he cares to admit. And so Hyunjin finds solace in you, in just how much he can get away with. Unlike Chan, Hyunjin is aware of what he's doing. You're an imitation of the real thing. A balm meant to soothe, but never meant to always have on.

He plays his role well. He gets sulky when you don't respond, but then he'll go days without saying a word to you. He lavishes you with words of affirmation, but it's never the words that matter the most.

It's like putting a band-aid over a bullet wound. Hyunjin knows that his little charade with you doesn't drive away the lonely, not completely. It can only keep it at bay. With the life he lives, he figures that it's the most that he can get.

Out of the eight, Hyunjin is the only one who will ask you to stay. When you try to break it off, when you attempt to call him out— he's not above begging. He knows it's a little pathetic, to be so desperate for the facsimile of the romance he wants. But it's all he can afford.

It's a vicious cycle. Hyunjin is hot; Hyunjin is cold. He leaves you with a love that's lukewarm.

🎧 tug of war, carly rae jepsen | you seem too good, too good to be true. i'm loving you longer— longer than i'm used to.

JISUNG.

Jisung enjoys the anonymity that the internet can give him. There's only so much places he can go without being recognized, only so many people he can meet who don't know him as HAN from Stray Kids.

On the internet, he doesn't have to be an idol. He's just some guy in his mid-twenties, looking for romance. His profile says he likes desserts and music. He's confident, here, because the people on the other side of the screen— like you— are just as nameless.

It gives him confidence. His usual sharp humor is still in place, but he's a smooth talker, too. He shamelessly tells you what he thinks, when he thinks it— everything from that outfit suits you to I like talking to you.

One time, Jisung even jokingly tells you, I'm just trying to find inspiration for my songs. That has always been his biggest flaw: He has yet to learn how to look at a person and not see a writing prompt.

Jisung is the one who makes the cleanest cut. If you dare to ask him more about himself, or if you question what lies underneath your mutual flirtations, he'll just... leave. The internet makes it so easy to ghost, to charge it all up to experience. And if you're the one who leaves— that works, too.

It doesn't matter who leaves. It always ends the same way: Track three on their recent comeback or a member's newest [SKZ PLAYER], with Han in the credits.

🎧 bad guy, hatchie | and you could be the bad guy, i could be the bad guy. any way you wanna try, it doesn't make it feel right.

FELIX.

Felix's situation is somehow one of the worse types, because his is clearly just a matter of circumstance. It's a waltz of 'will they, won't they?', where Felix just can't seem to make up his mind on how he wants you.

He cares for you. He knows that much. And it shows, too, in the ways that you interact, in the little things he does for you. He enjoys your company, whether it's playing video games with you or teaching you how to bake. He likes you. Sure, fine.

Enough to date you, though? To put you through the terrifying ordeal that is dating an idol?... Felix isn't sure about that. He dances around the truth, inadvertently stringing you along as he goes.

In a way, it feels like the two of you are in lockstep. Felix will just barely cross the line of friendship before reeling in, before taking it back. It can be draining; it can be thrilling. It's whatever you make it.

Felix never comes to a decision. There's too much on his plate, and he will ultimately put the boys— in extension, himself— first. The two of you have the best luck in staying in touch, in settling for something that resembles a proper friendship.

(But it's still there. Felix, at the end of the day, cannot completely close himself to you. Call it kindness. Call it cruelty. The door, still half-open; the lights, still on.)

🎧 light on, maggie rogers | if you're gone for good, then i'm okay with that. if you leave the light on, then i'll leave the light on.

SEUNGMIN.

Seungmin might not be the most tactile in the group, might not be the 'clingiest' in the traditional sense of word, but he has his moments. He craves attention, companionship, people. While he has his pick of the litter with the boys, there's also only so much that they can offer.

Enter you. Let it be made clear: Seungmin would never get in an arrangement like this if you weren't both on the same page. From the get go, he tells you his intentions. "Nothing serious," he warns, his eyes sharp and his jaw set. "None of that 'love' stuff."

And it's not because Seungmin doesn't want to fall in love. Of course he wants to! But at the price of his career? Never. He's willing to compromise, though. To treat all of this almost like it's a business transaction. To only ever have you in private, in secret.

He knows his boundaries. He never gives you everything, but he also never leaves you high and dry. In a way, you're both just filling the gaps in each other's lives— almost like it's a quota. You steal away on private dates. You both get your fill of physical affection. Neither of you call it a relationship.

There are one or two versions of this story where Seungmin is the one who falls first. It is inevitably you, and when he picks up on it, there is no screaming match. No 'break up' in a parking lot. It's a quiet sort of ending where you can tell that Seungmin is just a little bit disappointed to have to cut you loose.

🎧 lowkey, niki | i know we're a little fucked up to stay still, love. be as quite as you can 'cause if anyone sees they'll just blow shit up.

JEONGIN.

Being surrounded by seven other guys who constantly treat him like he's the youngest, it's a little difficult for Jeongin to not let it get to his head. He still sometimes acts his age— especially when it comes to dating.

He's never hasty enough to cause any real damage, though there are times where he comes dangerously close. If there's anything bound to get him in to trouble, it's his tendency to just leave when something no longer serves him.

Jeongin is acutely aware, after all, of the little power that he wields. He's a big believer that he can get anything he wants as long as he puts his mind to it. And so he dates you for a short time, in a way that can only really be described as love bombing.

He loves sneaking out to go on dates, loves late night phone calls and shameless flirting. He'll send you a dozen selcas; he'll ask you to help pick out his outfit. He's sweet in a way that only somebody reckless and young can be, and it's the reason why people fall so hard and so fast.

But the moment Jeongin catches any hint of that— the impending commitment conversation, the just-about-to-hit question of 'what are we?'— he's already blocking your number. He may seem devil-may-care, but he'd been careful from the very beginning.

You'll never be able to definitively say that he flirted with you, that you were together. He knows how to cover up his tracks. When Jeongin clears out, it's always in a way that leaves you wondering: Did it really ever happen at all?

🎧 good graces, sabrina carpenter | it's not that complicated; you should stay in my good graces or i'll switch it up like that, so fast!

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duoduotian · 2 years ago

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it's so frustrating living with misophonia especially when the person that is causing the sound you hate, is aware you don't like hearing it and still do it. :) for me, i immensely dislike tv volume higher than usual range when no one is watching the tv. just turn it off it's not that hard lmaooo

#mel 废话时刻 #i have made efforts to communicate civilly and politely but i either get shouted at or they make a childish retort #so now if said person has tv set to their own channel i either camp in my room w/ mp3 or just suffer #the only time they would turn it down is if someone needs it down bc studying or whatever like ?#they always watch news and some ancient ass misogynistic movies so i've developed a strong negative sense of feeling towards these stuff #idrc abt the news actually i am doing very bad i don't need more bad vibes #oh and like our walls are not soundproof so i can still hear it from very far #or like maybe it's not playing but i still hear the sounds subconsciously with feelings of fear and anxiety #sooo i have a very short temper since they also say things that aggravate me #idk maybe you respect me first and i wouldn't be so rude #说我没尊重你但你也没尊重我用你脑去想吧 #also rlly hate when the sound effects just go drastically loud like omg stfu this is not a movie.#i slept at 8 bc es event last day today i sleep at 6 #which is the usual timing last time i slept at 4 #it's so hard to actually wake up now since i have no obligations too #plus i keep feeling a sense of dread so i just continue lying down #i am trying to be disciplined and have a normal sleep cycle #i wish the pay for working on weekends and holidays were better like um hiiii wdym everyone else enjoys their rest days while i'm suffering #am i a joke to u

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missnxthingg · 3 months ago

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𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄, 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃 - 𝑂𝑁𝐸

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 - Lando Norris x Single Mom!Reader (Best friends to lovers) 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 - Lando and Y/N have always been the best of friends, always there for each other through thick and thin. After years of sharing the paddock and building their own silly little family, both of them just can't hold their feelings inside anymore, even though they're are both afraid it would ruin their friendship. So who'll take the first step? 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 - 4.1 K | 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 - None (so far) 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 - All chapters come with a social media version. Click bellow and find more about this story!

smau version | series masterlist | main masterlist | taglist

“My hair is absolutely fine”, Lando complained. He had just woken up from his usual nap before the race and would’ve much rather have used the past five minutes sleeping then getting his hair fixed. Y/N ignored his whining and kept fixing his curls, making sure they fell perfectly into place. “Y/N, I'm literally putting on a helmet five minutes from now”.

“Shut up”, she furrowed her eyebrows and kept herself concentrated on his hair. “You’re gonna look perfect for the pictures before getting in the car with this hair”.

“Y/N L/N, full-time groomer, part-time comms girl”, he joked, making her open a small grin. It’s always nice to have small moments like those in the middle of all the mayhem that is the Formula 1 paddock, specially after so many years knowing each other. Lando and Y/N always found a way to make it even more fun by being there together.

“My job is to get the best image of you out there”, she dusted off his shoulders and winked at him. “Excited to be back?”

“Very”, he smiled at her. “Missed me over the winter?”

“Haven’t had the chance to miss you since you insist on us having a friendship outside work and keeps stopping by my house all the damn time”, she joked, pulling him to walk along with her. “Also, have you forgotten the headache you’ve given me on New Year’s Day?”

Lando went to Bali with his friends on the New Year’s and ended up partying a little too hard, which resulted in Y/N having to work all day as everyone else was enjoying their holiday. She had to stay at her hotel room all day in reunion with his PR team, trying to come up with solutions to his mess. When he found out, he even paid her dinner to apologize for the mess he made.

“I already said I was sorry”, Lando nudged her away with his elbow, making Y/N giggle. Then she toughened up and rolled his eyes at him. They soon were inside the McLaren garage, almost ready to start the first race of the year.

“You can apologize properly by doing great today”, she helped him close his suit, feeling his gaze burning on her face. Lando lowered his sight to pay attention to his friend, making her whole body tingle just with the looks.

“I'll try my best”, he shrugged. And Y/N knew that he was going to be good anyway, even if he didn’t really believe in himself. Lando had done great all weekend, so she knew he was also going to do great on track. She was known to have a sense of when her best friend was going to do good on the race, and today was one of those days. She just didn’t tell him.

It’s been like this since the very first moment they met. Lando and Y/N got to know each other when he was still in Formula 2, but already looking into enrolling in Formula 1 with McLaren. She had just got an internship at the team, working in communications, focused on their social media, and was starting to get into the motorsports world as she worked her way through a degree in college. Lando was also building his career, starting as a test driver and growing into a rookie. With both of them being new into this world, being friends made this entire experience less lonely.

“All good?”, she asked, opening a comforting smile at him to make sure Lando was cheerful enough to kick off the season.

“Does my hair look good for the balaclava?”, he joked as he took his last pieces of fireproofs to wear. Y/N rolled her eyes and nudged him away. “Yes, curly king”, she giggled, earning a quick hug from the boy, who was now ready to get into the car. He sneaked a tiny kiss on her cheek and buried his nose on her neck. “Good luck, champ”.

“Thank you”, he winked at her, walking towards his engineers to have a quick chat before the race.

Y/N’s job was basically on hold for the rest of the race. She already knew the procedures of the media pen after the race, so all she had to do was wait and cheer for her team. It felt good to be back on track, and beginnings of seasons always give her a little bit more of power to do her job. And Bahrain was a solid start for McLaren, with both Lando and Oscar finishing above P6, getting good points for the team.

“I knew you were going to do good”, Y/N commented when she saw Lando walking towards her; his suit already hanging low on his hips and with a tired smile on his face after he finished the countless post race interviews. He wrapped his arms softly around his friend as he stole her bottle of water. “Congratulations!”

“Thank you”, he held her a little tighter and immediately felt relaxed next to her. For years, Y/N has been the calm after the storm for Lando. “Tired?”

“Not really. Just a little bit”, she shrugged, as they walked back together to the McLaren motorhome, ready to get her things and walk away from the paddock.

“Want to grab something to eat before heading back to the hotel? I’m starving, and I really could use some time without talking to anyone but you”, he giggled, knowing his best friend knew how to respect his silence when he needed. Also, they had been working non-stop together for the past month, without a single time to just enjoy their time together. It would be nice to do absolute nothing next to each other.

“Oh, I’m heading back to London tonight. I have to be at the airport in… two hours”, she said, looking at her watch with a sad smile. “Little one needs me. She has a ballet presentation tomorrow, and I have to be there for her”.

“Of course”, Lando said, feeling the endearment on his chest with her words. “Ollie has the best mom in the world. She’s the luckiest little girl”.

Y/N got pregnant shortly after she started her second year in Formula 1, after being very careless with a college boyfriend, who took off the second he found out they were having a baby, only helping financially every month, but not being there to help her with anything. On the first years, when she was mostly required to be in England, it worked. But now that she grew on her job and was asked to travel the entire world, it was getting harder and harder to stay away from her daughter. So she always comes for the weekend and goes back home as soon as she can.

“You’re heading back to England tomorrow for the post-race debrief, right? You should come have dinner with us after the ballet presentation”, Y/N suggested.

“Am I banned from going to the ballet as well?”, Lando arched his brows, making Y/N's cheeks heat up.

“I mean, I thought it would be quite boring for you”, she shrugged, making Norris laugh.

“Are you joking? Olivia can never be boring. I always want to see her, especially on nice days like these”, he said. “I'll be there. And then I'll take you to her favourite restaurant”.

“She’s four, Lando. Her favourite restaurant is McDonald's”, Y/N rolled her eyes, but he shrugged.

“McDonald's it is!”, he giggled. “I'll see you tomorrow. Have a safe trip back home”.

“You too, Lan”, he pulled her for another quick hug and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head.

Lando has been there for Olivia since before she was born. After her boyfriend took off, Y/N was left pregnant, completely scared for her future. She didn’t know how to keep doing her job and her studies. Norris was the one who stuck by her side, did everything in his power to not get her fired, or not to quit her job, and pushed her to keep going with her education. He was there to take her to doctor's appointments whenever he could, and he was there to hold her hand when the time came. Lando was one of the first people who ever had the opportunity to hold Ollie in the arms. And for everything he did for both girls, he immediately became the little baby’s godfather. There was no one else in this world Y/N trusted more.

She has been more than special in his life as well. Y/N understood him better than anyone, and was his home away from home. She made him laugh, and she made sure that he felt comfortable, loved and happy all the time. And if things weren’t alright, having her support always made things better. So before she left, Lando took one last glance at his best friend and thought: “How lucky I am to have her in my life”. But he kept that thought to himself, trying hard not to think too much into it. Deep down, he knew there was something more on the way his heart raced every time he looked at her.

For the next day, Lando felt anxious to finally get home and be with his tiny second family. He hasn’t seen his goddaughter since the pre-season started and was looking forward to being in her presence again. It was his favourite way to relax after a full weekend, being with the people he loved the most in the world. So it felt good once the meeting at McLaren back in Woking was over, which meant that now he could go to the ballet presentation and be with his girls.

He arrived at least twenty minutes before the presentation started and found Y/N among the crowd, sitting right in the front, using her Instagram as a pastime to wait until Olivia was on stage. She updated her social media with a few shots from the weekend in Bahrain before she was pulled out of her thoughts by Lando, who found his spot next to his best friend.

“Hello”, he greeted with a beautiful smile on his face. Norris was wearing an all-black outfit, trying not to catch much attention to his presence, not wanting to deal with the public eye in such an intimate moment between family. “Am I late?”

“No, don’t worry”, she smiled softly at him. “Ollie will on go on stage in a few moments, so you’re fine”.

“Good. I’m glad to be here”, he elbowed his friend and got comfortable next to her. “How was your flight back home?”

“It was fine, a bit tiring. I got home just in time to have some breakfast and get Olivia ready to go to school. My mom drove her and I knocked out on the couch until lunch. Then I got her from school, we had lunch at a restaurant, and then I took her home to get our ballerina ready”.

“Cute”, his cheeks tinted in a pretty pink shade. “At least one of us had some proper sleep. I woke up at four, then flew here and went straight into MTC. I got changed there, had a nap, and now I’m here”.

“You should’ve gone home to rest, Lando…”, she started, but he cut her through her sentence.

“I told you I wanted to be here. I always want to be here for Ollie’s big days, you know that”, he assured, and Y/N knew he was telling the truth. After all, he has always been there for her daughter, coming to see her whenever he could, never forgetting to get her gifts on Christmas and birthdays, always calling to make sure his goddaughter knew how much she was loved by him. Lando cared about Olivia as if she was his own daughter.

“I know”, she smiled, searching for his hand in the darkness of the room to give it a squeeze. “You’ve always been here for her big days. But I worry about your health”.

“Oh, shut up”, he laughed. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me”.

Then Y/N noticed that Lando was holding flowers in his hands, and her heart immediately felt full at the sight. He definitely is a treasure in her daughter’s life.

“You brought her a bouquet?”, she commented, making her friend blush with the comment. “Oh my God, that’s so cute!”

“Of course I did! She deserves it”, he smiled, pulling the bouquet to show it to Y/N. “Do you think she’ll like the daisies? I thought roses were too boring and Ollie is never boring”.

“Obviously. She loves everything you give her”, she giggled, finishing just before the music started and the presentation began.

Y/N obviously cried to see her daughter dancing beautifully on stage, knowing she was on the right path to provide the best life for her little girl. But her heart actually melted to see Lando’s smile as he sat next to her, admiring Olivia’s movements with a hug smile on his face.

“She’s really good”, he commented, not tearing his eyes away from the girl. “Look at her, wow!”

Y/N threw her arms around him and snuggled close to his body, hugging him from the side. She just couldn’t contain her happiness by him being there for her family. Lando only tore his eyes away from Ollie to look at his best friend for a second. He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head and rested a hand on her knee. That was his way to tell her that she was doing a good job.

After the presentation was over, the duo went backstage to pick Olivia to go out for dinner. The little girl was still dressed in her ballerina attire, now with a huge smile on her face as she ran excitedly towards them. But there was only one person she had her eyes for.

“Uncle Lando!”, she shouted, rushing her pace to him, who squatted to hug her. Norris waited for the impact and relaxed once he felt her tiny arms wrapped around his neck. “You came!”

“Of course I came! I wouldn’t miss the best ballerina in town doing her beautiful performance on stage”, he leaned back to look her in the face, the smile never faltering from his face. “You look so beautiful, wow. I’m so proud of you!”

“Thank you”, Ollie giggled, her tiny hands landing on his cheeks, making his smile even wider. Then he pulled the bouquet in his hands and showed it to the girl, who sparkled her eyes at the sight of the flowers.

“These are for you”, he said, and Ollie quickly wrapped her hands around the bouquet, pulling them closer to her face to smell it. She started jumping in excitement before pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Oh, that’s nice”.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”, Olivia said. “I love you, uncle Lando”.

“I love you too, baby”, he declared before picking her up from the floor, walking towards Y/N, whose eyes were welled up with tears from watching the interaction between them. He whipped it off with one of his thumbs before pulling his best friend for a group hug.

“Why are you crying, mummy?”, Olivia asked, her cheeks pressed between Lando and Y/N’s body.

“Oh, it’s because you look so beautiful. I’m so proud!”, she giggled. “These are happy tears, I promise”.

“I love you too, mummy. Just as much as I love uncle Lando”, the girl declared, making Lando’s heart warm up with the comment.

“I love you too, Ollie”, Y/N pressed a kiss to her daughter’s forehead. “Are you hungry, baby? Uncle Lando is taking us for dinner”.

“And you get to choose where”, he smirked, making Olivia even more excited with the proposition.

“McDonald’s!”, she shouted, making Lando laugh. Then he looked at Y/N, who had that ‘I told you so’ look on her face. “I want a burger, nuggies, fries and ice cream. Oh, and the little toy”.

“Your wish is my command”.

Lando always bent over backwards to see Olivia smile. He bought everything she wished to eat, and she was stuffed with goodies that made her belly warm. Then she filled him in with everything that was going on in her life, making Y/N sit back, eat her burger, and admire the interaction between them. He had been helping her with food as he listened carefully to every single world she was saying. It was good to have someone else taking care of her, lifting the weight off her shoulders for a second. By the time they were done, Norris held both of his girls' hands and walked to his car, ready to go home with them.

Olivia fell asleep on the way home as they had a very quiet ride, only listening to some of Lando’s chill music. Then he helped carry her inside when they arrived, as Y/N opened the door and got her daughter’s bed ready for the night. She changed the little girl’s clothes and tucked her in bed, not forgetting her signature forehead kiss before leaving. Norris watched it from the door with a tender smile on his face. He pulled his friend by the elbow, engulfing her in a comforting, long hug.

In the quietness of her house, everything felt perfectly into place. Lando rarely gets those moments alone with his best friend when they are rushing around the paddock. So whenever he sees the opportunity, he takes it. And they stood there, holding each other for a few minutes until he pulled Y/N out of the room. She takes care of both him and Olivia all the time. It’s only fair that he took care of her sometimes.

Norris sat her down on the couch and quickly picked a few items from her room, such as a soft blanket, along with some skincare to take off her makeup and make her relax. Then he sat next to her and patted his lap, just so she could lie down and rest. Lando softly ran wipes across her face, removing her make up before putting a relaxing face mask on her skin. Then he massaged her scalp as she sighed in comfort, enjoying every second of that treatment. He finished the skincare with moisturizer and a little kiss on her forehead, making her smile.

“I don’t deserve you”, she commented as Lando blushed. “Seriously, Ollie and I are so lucky to have you in our lives”.

“I’m just taking care of the people that I love”, he shrugged. “Do you want some tea?”

“I want some wine”, she giggled, making him tag along. “I think there’s a bottle in the fridge and the glasses are still in the same place”.

Lando shot up from his seat, but quickly came back with the bottle, an opener and two glasses. He wasn’t someone to drink much, but he would never refuse this bonding time with his best friend. Still, he poured just a little in his glass before toasting with Y/N.

“God, I’m so tired”, she vented. “I can't sleep when I'm away from Ollie”.

“I know”, he squeezed her knee and Y/N leaned her head into his shoulder. “It sucks having to be away all the time. But I promise you’re doing great in this parenting thing”.

“If you think so”, she shrugged. Most times, Y/N second-guesses herself, wondering if she was being a good mother by leaving her child every other week with their grandmother, only to travel to another country. But she knew that was the only way to provide Ollie with the best life she could have; after all, the salary is very good.

“I know it”, Lando assures. “Olivia is the sweetest kid of all time. She’s kind, funny, very talented and polite. And she absolutely loves you, because you are the best mother in the world”.

“Thanks, Lan”, she smiled at him. “I’m glad she has someone like you in her life. I’m glad to have someone like you in mine”.

“I’ll always be here for you and Ollie, you know that. I’ll take care of you both until the end of my days”, he promised, pulling his best friend for a quick kiss on the crown of her head. “And in the end, everything is worth it, right?”

“Olivia is always worth it”, she assured him, opening the biggest smile. “She’s everything to me. And it’s crazy how much someone can mean to you. But I guess motherhood is always like this”.

“I can’t wait to be a dad. I know I’m going to love it just as much as being a godfather”, he said. “You’re going to enjoy being a godmother someday too”.

“I will be the proudest auntie in the world! Your kid will love me because I’ll pamper them with all the love I can give”.

Deep down, Lando knew he didn’t want Y/N to be the godmother of his children. He has known for a while that he wanted her to be their mother; to be the one he raised a family with through the years. He was very happy whenever he was with her and Olivia, loving more than anything that little family he built with his best friend, so he wanted that to grow even more, maybe with some children of their own.

But confessing his feeling for Y/N tonight, or any night in the near future, wasn’t in Lando’s plans. He would rather just enjoy this little family without taking the risk of losing it for unrequited love. After all, if it didn’t work out, he loses both of the loves of his life.

“Are you staying the night?”, she broke the silence after a few minutes just listening to the sound of television, as they finished their wine together.

“Of course. Did you think I was going to pass the opportunity of cuddling with you?”, he frowned. “I was pissed when McLaren didn’t book us at the same hotel, so I could have an excuse to sneak into your room”.

“Well, you’re the famous driver, McLaren golden boy. I’m just the comms girl. Not all of us can stay at swanky hotels”.

“You deserve the swankiest of them”, Lando said, making Y/N flustered with his comment.. “Come on, you barely can keep your eyes opened. Let’s go to bed”.

He swiped her off her feet and carried her to the bedroom as she tried to laugh quietly to not wake Olivia up. Lando threw her in the mattress as he laughed along, but immediately went into ‘take care mode’ when they were inside those four walls. He chose a comfortable pyjama for Y/N and picked some of his clothes, which he conventionally left in her house for nights like these, then went into her bathroom so they could have some privacy to change.

After they were both dress, Lando hopped into bed too and quickly found his favourite spot: his head resting on her chest, with his arms engulfing her in the most comfortable hug. He felt the tiredness of the weekend crash his body, but he felt relaxed to be in his favourite girl’s arms.

“Does Ollie have school tomorrow?”, he asked, feeling Y/N nod, even with her eyes closed.

“She does, I have to be up very early tomorrow”, she groaned, already feeling too lazy to wake up early tomorrow.

“I can take her to school, don’t worry”, he said, wanting to take this weight off Y/N’s back. After all, he could very much take care of Olivia for her, as he had done countless times before. “And then after classes, we can all do something fun, like going to a park or something. Maybe I can take her to a toyshop and she can buy anything that she wants”.

“Don’t spoil my child too much. I don’t want her to grow as a spoiled kid. You’ll ruin her!”

“I will”, he giggled. “But Olivia deserves everything in the world and more”.

They fell quiet for a moment, and Lando was sure that Y/N had already fallen asleep. That until her fingers rolled in his curls, making him hum in satisfaction. He wanted that feeling for the rest of his life. He wanted to sleep next to her every night until the end of days.

And then came the three words he always adored hearing from her.

“I love you, Lan”, she mumbled. “Thank you for being the best friend one could ever wish for”.

Even after being friend zoned, Lando didn’t care about anything else, feeling his chest burning in adoration for his favourite girl. “I love you too, baby”, he whispered back, his words carrying more than he actually wanted to mean.

⋘ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 // 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ⋙

𝒔𝒐𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒍 𝒎𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒂 𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 . 𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 - @celestialams @kapsylia @igotnorrrizz @hiireadstuff @bishhhitsaurion @mrsmaybank13 @bborra @sltwins @riccdannyf1 @67-angelofthelordme-67 @ctrlyomomma @lan4cha16 @alltoomaples @ellen3101 @hellyesjaehyun @tastebaldwin @sweate-r-weathe-r @carmenita122 @m0cha-bunny @lqvesoph @itscrzy @fangirlvibez @poppyflower-22 @livelovesports @logischeroktopus @happy-jj @saturnbloom77 @formulaal @secretgal66 @taisferrari-blog @sunsshinesunny @eclipsedcherry @tems13 @readingbringsjoy @timmispeach @kenzeyeballs @alilcloudy @rchitect-2015 @tillyt04 @eringaitskill @Honeyhatty12 @dreamercrowd @demig0d0fapollo @mxmtewnz @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @beyond-the-ashes @ijustgomessitupx @floraav @laiba26mindflay3r @marialovesf1 @sltwins @lizaschronicles @katieschry1 @loveofmylife12 @diaa-20 @urfavsgf @likedbygaslyy @notturlover @c-losur3 @brizzy-xo @gorgrussell @ellasaddiction2 @morketheduck @kravitzwhore @darkacademicvibes @jenna123456789 @crispymcniall @arsyao @phantomxoxo @noobmaster6931 @ohlahlaa @c0rpsecore @rafegirly @darleneslane @annalisenelson @nataliambc @amorydsmt @slytherinholland @hstylesmermaid @harrysdimples05 @xxbaby-dollxx @neilakk @xxx-betty

#lando norris #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fic #lando norris imagine #lando norris fluff #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x single mom!reader #ln4 #ln4 fanfic #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 fluff #f1 #f1 fanfic #formula 1 #love from all four corners of the world

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ellecdc · 3 months ago

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elle… elle… imagine me crawling into ur inbox like i’m crawling through the desert like i haven’t had water in days… i have a request.

do you think maybe maybe we can get just some potter!reader and james sibling interactions… i’ve been thinking abt it so hard i love u ok bye

hahaha here, have a quick little baby blurb starring our favourite siblings

Barty Crouch Jr x Potter!reader who is spending the hols with the Potters, apparently [638 words]

CW: siblings, swearing, island of misfit toys, reference to The Shining

“What’s everyone doing for the hols?” Peter asked around a bite of his toast to the rather large group gathered at the Gryffindor table that morning.

Marlene waxed poetic about how she was going to Tuscany with her folks and lamented that she wasn’t going to get to see Dorcas even once, whilst Dorcas simply rolled her eyes and stated she was going to be skiing with her parents in Switzerland and was really looking forward to it.

Lily was going to be visiting some of her relatives but was happy to announce that she was going to be visiting Mary for a weekend at her home.

Remus admitted that it was going to be a quiet affair at the Lupin cottage in Wales but would be spending a weekend at the Potter manor to visit Sirius (and James! Don’t forget James!).

“How about you, Junior?” Peter asked cautiously; always worried of eliciting any sort of response from the Slytherin boy, though not wanting to insult him by not asking him as well.

Barty looked up from his book to see the table's eyes on him. “Uhm, I’m just staying here.” He responded simply, causing you to start shaking your head in disagreement as you worked to swallow the bite of food you’d just taken.

“No.” You amended. “You’re staying with me.”

“I am?” He asked as James gasped “he is!?”

You nodded simply as you took a sip of your tea. “I asked mum and dad last week, they said it was fine.”

And if Barty had been mad that you’d asked your parents for such a thing, or upset that you didn’t deign to inform him of these plans, he didn’t show it as he offered you an agreeable shrug and moved back to his book.

“Excuse me.” James deadpanned as he stared daggers at you. “No one asked me.”

“Why in the buggering fuck would I have asked you, Jamie?” You spat back at him.

“Uhm, because it’s my house too!?”

“No one asked me when you moved in the creepy twins from The Shining! No offence, boys.” You amended quickly as you offered an apologetic smile in Sirius and Regulus’ direction, which earned you a simultaneous “none taken” from Regulus and an offended “we duel at dawn, Trouble” from Sirius.

“Well-...” James started, though he couldn’t seem to find an argument as you raised a brow at him. “Well I just…think someone ought to have informed me, is all.” He finished haughtily.

“Yeah, okay.” You offered sarcastically. “I’ll be sure to give you ample notice next time.”

“Next time!?” James beseeched. “You can’t keep bringing them home!”

“Why not!? You get to have two of them!?”

The two of you continued verbally sparring as Barty, Sirius, and Regulus all exchanged a look at being referred to as them.

“You’re being ridiculous; it’s not a competition.” James spat pretentiously.

“No?” You said, causing everyone else in the group to brace themselves at what was no doubt going to be a special brand of Potter nonsensory. “In that case, I’m going to go see if the Rosier’s want to join us.”

James stared at you with his mouth agape as you made to stand from the bench. “You wouldn’t.”

“Watch me.” You challenged before taking off towards the Ravenclaw table where you knew at least one Rosier would be sitting.

“Fuck.” James hissed, now standing as well as he began frantically searching the Great Hall. “Uhm… oh, Fenwick! Need somewhere to crash for the holidays!?”

"I'm sorry I asked." Peter let out with a heavy sigh as Regulus muttered something French and likely very unflattering regarding his boyfriend under his breath.

“Potter Manor; home of misfit wix.” Remus mumbled, earning him an indignant “oi!” from his boyfriend, “watch who you’re calling misfits, Lupin” from Regulus, and a snort of laughter from Barty.

#marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #barty gate #barty crouch junior #barty crouch jr #barty #slytherin skittles #the slytherin skittles #barty crouch jr imagine #barty crouch jr x reader #barty crouch jr x you #fluff #comedy #siblings #ellecdc fics

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magicalrocketships · 7 days ago

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Oh, Mog. I often think of you and hope you have energy enough to do the things you want to do, and if that happens to be writing amazing fic, what a cherry on the top of the cake.

HOWEVER! It is hard to be so altruistic when you dangle a little nugget of fic that is Sugar Baby Daniel au. I neeeeeeed it like Max needs sim racing, like Daniel needs his emotional support athletes. I am never going to get over this idea - I hope you manage to write it one day!

Thank you, my lovely. Fatigue is the worst. It's the worst. I'm so exhausted all the time, so thank you for thinking of me <3

I do have more energy to think about fic than I do to write it, but I did write a LITTLE bit of sugar baby Daniel fic, and here's what I have (it might never be more than this, but I plan on thinking about it a lot). it's 2022, Daniel never got to F1 - backstory available upon application - and Daniel and Max met on holiday in Ibiza during at the start of Max's summer break.

&&&

"What do you want for Christmas?" Max asks, seven minutes into a phone call on Daniel's lunch break, where he's eaten half of a Sainsbury's meal deal sandwich he doesn't want and spent the other five minutes complaining to Max about how he fucking hates his fucking job.

"Not to work here anymore," Daniel complains, opening a too-small box of tiny bits of chopped melon and squishy grapes and wishing he could afford the fancy packs of chopped mango from M&S.

"Okay," Max says. "Where would you be instead?"

"Partying with you," Daniel grumbles, because the grape isn't nice and he's sick of working through his lunch and all the late nights in the factory and all for a racing team he's starting to hate.

"Okay," Max says again. "What time do you finish on Friday?"

"It's supposed to be five," Daniel says, "but, like, it never fucking is anymore. You know it's supposed to be shorter hours when it isn't a fucking race weekend but if I'm out of here by seven then I'll be fucking lucky." He stabs a bit of melon with a wooden chopstick because the kitchen never has any forks and he doesn't like sticky fingers. He's cold and bad-tempered and he's had his Christmas extended leave turned down so he can't even go back to fucking Australia and see his parents. Fuck. The melon's on the turn too. It's not his fucking day. How can it be this fucking rainy in fucking August? This is supposed to be summer.

"I'll send the car to pick you up at five," Max says, as if Daniel isn't midway through a whine. "It can wait until seven if you're still working. The jet will of course wait for you."

"Wait," Daniel says. "What?"

"You're coming to Monaco for the weekend," Max says. "And I'm going to fuck you in every room in my flat."

Daniel chokes on a going-off grape. "What the fuck."

"You didn't think we were not going to be fucking just because we're not in Ibiza anymore, did you?" Max asks.

That's exactly what Daniel did think. One week in Ibiza fucking a partying racing driver and a few texts and two phone calls afterwards and he'd assumed this was one incredible, heady dream and not something that was ever going to continue beyond a holiday romance. Even this phone call seems improbable and made up. He's been limiting himself to a dream of just being a name Max remembers.

"That's very stupid, Daniel," Max says, as if Daniel's the ridiculous one here. "I'll fly you back in time for work on Monday. Okay?"

"Okay," Daniel says, with a slightly embarrassing squeak.

"Good," Max says in satisfaction. "I've missed being fucked by you."

&&&

Not only is there a car waiting for him on Friday after work, there's a private jet, there's fancy fucking snacks and nice gin and when he lands in Nice, there's a fucking helicopter waiting to fly him to Monte Fucking Carlo. Then there is World fucking Champion Max Verstappen waiting by a car that probably costs more than five times Daniel's annual fucking salary, followed by World fucking Champion Max Verstappen kissing him in the front seat of a supercar and depositing a gift bag in Daniel's lap like it's nothing but a bag of pickled onion Monster Munch.

"We're going for dinner," Max says, starting the engine. "You can wear that."

Inside is a dark blue Tag Heuer watch. Daniel looks at it. "Are you lending me it?"

"I bought it for you," Max says, as the engine roars and Daniel gets hard. "I jerked off thinking about you in it."

"Fuck," Daniel says succinctly. He puts it on.

#sugar baby daniel #fic i wish i was writing #been consumed by many details of this for a good solid 24 hours now #might not have been that long but it feels longer

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mickandmusings · 4 months ago

Text

v. we were happy

part of the 'hangman & honey' series!

summary: Honey's life lately was much like walking on air-everything was light, breezy, full of happiness and excitement. She relishes in it, enjoying her time in Haven before graduation. But if there's one thing Honey knows, it's this: when good things happen to her, the bad things will come tenfold.

word count: 7.4k (oops)

warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI (just to be safe); smut highly implied, but no graphic descriptions besides heavy kissing (i'm not skilled enough for that); descriptions of a panic attack; angst; honey finally getting the important feminine friendships she deserves; notable military inaccuracies

"If you give me the slightest hint of withdrawal and abandonment, I would outdo you." -

"Jake is going to flip his lid when he sees you, Hon!"

Haley's voice rings in Honey's left ear, the girl delicately twisting Honey's hair into a simple up-do. Sarah Grace nods in agreement, giggling as she brushes a neutral eyeshadow across Honey's eyelids. Honey smiles and gives her own soft chuckle, feeling incredibly out of place-but simultaneously comfortable-with the new experience of getting all dolled up. Of course she'd gotten herself ready for dances with Jake before, but having girlfriends do your hair and makeup was entirely different, as Honey was learning. Haley and Sarah Grace had doted and debated about looks all morning, until they both agreed and settled on a unified look to match Honey's simple black dress.

"The dress alone is going to make him want to take you right there in his backseat," Sarah Grace commented, her laughter bouncing off the walls of the bathroom in the Seresin's spare house.

"Oh, gross, SG! Give Honey more credit than that, her boy has tact, which is apparently something Ethan lacks if he's taking you in his backseat." Haley shakes her head, the sequins of her hot pink dress rustling as she moves around Honey's stool to get the back of her head. Her own blonde locks are pulled into an intricate style atop her head, the shiny hairpins glimmering in the bathroom's ample lighting.

"I think you're both overconfident in your ability to take me from homely to supermodel."

Honey's voice is quiet, but the girls hear her clearly. They're both chatterboxes, but Honey had learned quickly that they were always listening, no matter how timidly she spoke. Both of the girls cut their eyes at her with appalled expressions.

"Homely? What makes you think you're ugly, Honey? You're easily one of the prettiest girls in our class. Guys are just shallow, well, except for your boy," Sarah Grace's face breaks into a smile. Honey blushes, not sure how to accept a compliment like that. She stays quiet as the girls finish their work, but her friends can only stand the silence for so long.

"So, Honey," Haley begins as she pins back a section of Honey's hair. "How excited are you for UT? I mean you only have a few weeks until graduation, and then summer, but then it's all over and you're packing your life away to Austin."

"I'm not packing my life away, Hals, I'm still coming back for the holidays and the long weekends. It's not like I'm never coming back to Haven. I mean-" She pauses and a blush spreads across her face. "I imagine Jake wants to settle down here, get married, maybe start a family. At least that's what he's always said."

"AW!" Haley's outburst makes Honey laugh too. "You two make me SICK! Jake Seresin and his perfect little family, all the other PTA moms are gonna give you hell, girl."

Honey rolls her eyes, pursing her lips as Sarah Grace moves to paint lipstick across them. Honey's heart feels full, and her skin is warm with adoration for the girls in front of her. For the first time in her entire life, everything felt right, perfect even. But if there was one thing Honey knew well, nothing good that happens to her lasts forever. She swallows the doubt rising in her chest and stands as the two girls finally finish. She looks at herself in the mirror-a satin black dress adorns her frame, accenting all of her best features. The pearl hairpins Haley had placed in her curly hair shined in the lights, and, while uncomfortable, the heels on her feet fit perfectly. Her eyes widened, for the first time maybe ever, she feels beautiful. Tears rise behind her eyes, and she blinks quickly in an effort not to ruin the makeup. The action isn't lost on Sarah Grace who gives her a sympathetic look, tears forming in her own eyes.

"It all feels so fast, doesn't it?" Sarah Grace's voice is softer than normal. "I mean, we only just became friends and after this summer, we'll all be in different corners of the country. You'll be in Austin, Haley will be in Tennessee, and I'll be Alabama. It doesn't seem fair, does it?"

She was right, in a matter of weeks, Honey would start at UT Austin, Haley at University of Tennessee, and Sarah Grace at Auburn.

Honey shakes her head as she lets a few tears slip through. Haley is a blubbering mess next to her, her arms gathering around both Honey and Sarah Grace's shoulders.

"I love you guys," Haley's voice wobbles as she squeezes them tightly. "But hey, it's a good thing we all look damn good in orange, right? Otherwise we'd be fucked. And! We can all visit each other for games, since we already have the right colors, right?"

Honey laughed into her friend's shoulder, that sinking feeling of dread coming up her throat like bile. As Haley pulls away, she wipes the tears that had fallen, a smile on her face that didn't feel forced at all.

The girl's emotional moment is interrupted by a sharp knock to the bathroom door, Willie's voice sounding.

"You ladies ready?"

Haley said something in reply, but it didn't quiet reach Honey's ears. She was reeling in emotion, and it felt as if her ears were filled with cotton. Her heart raced, and she couldn't stop her mouth from speaking.

"H-Haley? SG?"

The two girls turn to their friend, her eyes filling with another round of tears. They both shuffle to her side, their own eyes cloudy.

"I, um, I just wanted to say...thanks. For so long I truly thought I was invisible, and I just-," she pauses, flashes of the past eight months playing behind her eyes: sleepovers and movie dates, sitting together at football games, gossiping over lunch. "-thanks for seeing me, for being my friend. You'll never know how much that, uh," Honey's bottom lip quivers. She doesn't have to finish her statement, because they've already pulled her back into a massive group hug. They all three laugh as they part, and Haley grabs her hand as they shuffle out the door to the front yard.

Immediately, Honey feels Jake's gaze on her. She pretends to ignore it for a moment, not wanting to meet his jade eyes after just crying, he'd be concerned. Instead, she leaves him waiting as she talks to Haley and SG before they both break off to their own respective partners. Finally, she meets Jake's gaze, his normally light eyes now dark, full of a longing she had only seen once before. She swallows and gives him a shy smile, approaching him timidly.

"You clean up nice, Seresin," she jokes, feeling almost nervous under his gaze, but never uncomfortable.

"Me?" He finally speaks, his calloused hands pulling her in by her hips. "Darlin', you're always beautiful, but-," he shakes his head. "This look will be in my dreams for a while."

Honey laughs, Jake's lips pressing a kiss to the top of her head as they shuffle over for at least an hour's worth of pictures for Janet. The last picture before they all head out, the obligatory picture under Janet's magnolia tree, was one of Honey smiling at the camera, but Jake stared down at her instead. For anyone from the outside looking in, he was simply enamored with her, and couldn't turn his eyes away. While that was true, Jake knew it had more to do with him trying to memorize the happiness painted across her face, because after tonight, he would likely never see it again.

Music thumps in Jake's ears as he sways Honey in his arms. She's a vision below him, and he finds himself unable to keep his eyes (and his hands) off of her. She gives him a smile that dazzles as he spins and dips her to the upbeat pop song sounding from the speakers. She accidentally steps on his toes as he pulls her back in and apologizes, but he pays it no mind, it's not like he could feel it through his dress boots. She had abandoned her heels hours ago at the table they shared with their friends, his suit jacket following not long after. He grins, lifting her over his shoulder without warning, spinning her before placing her back down on her feet. She yelps in surprise, settling back into his hold, it was a move he'd pulled numerous times.

"This isn't a honky tonk! Why are you pullin' out those line dancing moves?!"

She giggles through her words, cheeks rosy with a slightly breathless blush. The action transports them to the summer of their sophomore year, spending hours upon hours in the farmhouse living room in sock feet, desperately attempting to learn the steps to a line dance Jake had convinced her to learn. Jake smiles back down at her, his hands settling on her hips, falling dangerously lower and lower each time.

"Can't I show off a little? Didn't learn all those moves for nothin'," Jake's response intertwines with his cocky smile and a wink. A plastic crown sits crooked on his head, a sash that adorned him 'Prom King' now over Willie's torso across the room. The upbeat pop song slowly morphs into a country love ballad, and Jake pulls her in close. Honey welcomes his touch, resting her head on his shoulder, one of her hands coming to the hair on the nape of his neck, the other resting on his chest. Her hair that Haley had so delicately curled was falling down around her face, and her lipstick that Sarah Grace had spent an hour and a half debating shades of had mostly been wiped away, notably making Jake's lips a little more pink than normal. She nuzzles her nose into the side of his neck as they sway, and Jake feels tingles travel up his spine. His hands pull her closer-if that was even possible-and planted a kiss on her temple.

"Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?"

"Only a thousand times," Honey responds, her eyes now glimmering in the light as she looks up at him.

"Make it a thousand and one, you look beautiful tonight, baby."

He lifts a hand from her hip, pushing stray hair back behind her ear. Honey blushes, hiding her face in his neck again. She's quiet for most of the song, but it doesn't strike Jake as odd, quiet is her usual state of being. The song is fading when he hears her voice over the music.

"Does it feel weird? That everything is happening so fast? I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm glad high school is ending, but...this time three months from now, SG and Haley will be hours away, and we'll be packing up our things and headed towards Austin. I swear to God just yesterday we were nine years old riding bikes up and down the road and now..."

Honey cuts off her own sentence. Jake certainly knew how fast the time was flying. The dread he had been swallowing for weeks was creeping back up, and the guilt of not telling her was beginning to weigh him down completely.

"It's flyin' by, for sure."

She closes her eyes and lets him sway her for the rest of the song, before the sweet song shifts to one more fit for fast-paced dancing. It was late into the night, and it was likely the adults would be kicking them out within the next hour. He waited for Honey's body to detach from his own, but when it never did, he looked down at her. Her eyes meet his, a look of desperation crossing her face. He'd know that look anywhere-she was overstimulated, and ready to go. He pulls her away just a few inches, his hands still lingering on her hips.

"Why don't you go tell the girls you're leavin' and we'll get out of here?"

She was tired of the party, the crowds, the loud music, and was relieved when she didn't have to utter a word for Jake to understand her discomfort. She nodded and shuffled to bid her friends farewell, returning back to their shared table to slide her shoes back on. Jake catches her out of the corner of his eye and approaches her, a confused look written across his face.

"What're you doin'?"

Honey looks up, "Puttin' my shoes on?"

"They hurt your feet, just let me carry you to the truck."

"That's sweet, J, but I'm heavy and this dress-"

"I wasn't askin', baby," His eyes are that same dark shade from before, and she simply swallows her retort.

He sticks his arm out for her to take, her heels now dangling from his opposite hand. She wraps her hand around his bicep until they reach the door, where he scoops her up as if she weighs nothing. Her arms instantly intertwine around his neck, a laugh escaping her as she laughs at the absurdity of it all-Jake Seresin, her childhood best friend, carrying her bridal style to his truck.

"Somethin' about this funny?"

She simply shakes her head and looks up at him, her face hot.

"Just, imaginin' what eight-year-old us would think, ya know? Nine-year-old Honey would've never imagined this. Would the younger you ever picture this?"

Jake doesn't even have to think.

"Yeah, yeah he could. I was in love with you the second I saw you, Honey, I just didn't know it yet."

Honey is rendered speechless, a warmth spreading in her torso and filtering to the rest of her body. Her eyes dart between his own as he slides her into the passenger side of his truck, darting down to place her shoes at her feet, slinging his jacket in the backseat. He goes to close the door, but her voice stops him.

"Jake?"

He looks up at her, an expression drawn across her face that he'd never seen before. He notes her chest rapidly rising and falling with short breaths, her eyes blown wide and dark, her body language radiating a sort of familiar heat that Jake had felt earlier in the night, when he had first seen her in the dress she was wearing.

"What is it, baby?" His voice is barely above a whisper.

She says nothing, bringing his face in-between her hands as she kisses him with a fervor he'd never seen coming from her. His own hands meet her hips, sliding her across the seat and closer to him. It's all lust, clashing teeth and heated kisses, his hands resting too far down her back and gripping her thighs, her lips on the plane of his neck.

She pulls away, breathless.

"We should get out of here."

Jake didn't have to be told twice as he raced over to the driver's side, his hand finding her leg as he peeled out of the parking lot. Her lips placed a kiss on the underside of his jaw as his grip tightened on her, and Jake was thanking the heavens above his grandparents had built that spare house nearly a mile and a half out from their own house. Jake was the epitome of a southern gentleman, never pushing or even insinuating the few intimate acts they'd shared so far, but now, with Honey looking like that, with her lips teasingly caressing his neck, most of his control had flown out the window.

Jake made it to the house in record time (by running a few stop signs and speeding) and all but flung himself out of the truck, pressing his lips fervently against her own as he pulled her from the truck, and was prepared to break down the damn door of the house to get her alone. He tossed his own shoes off at the door, pushing open the bedroom door with his foot as he plopped her carefully on the bed. She gave a soft chuckle, and he hovers over her close enough to feel her heart racing. He brings his hand to her cheek, his eyes meeting hers. His own chest heaves with short breaths, his mind muddled as he gazes into her dark irises. He brings his own lips to her neck and trailed down to her collarbone, the hands on her waist falling lower and lower as he moves his lips down her skin. He stops himself, looking down at her as his voice grows low and serious.

"Are you sure about this, baby? We can stop at any point. We can stop this right now, no pres-"

Her shaky hands fall on either side of his face, her fingers combing through his blonde locks.

"Jake," she pauses, using a beat to catch her breath. "I've never been more sure of anything. I have nothing to hide from you, I want you to do this. I-I love you."

Jake's heart hammers.

"I love you too."

His lips connect with her own, his calloused hand pushing the strap of her dress down her shoulder exposing her bare skin to him. As she revels under his touch, his mind only sees her, and he could not fathom thinking of her in any other way than in her state of pure bliss.

Hours later, as the moonlight glows on Honey's bare skin, Jake's momentary euphoria is diminishing. He watches her chest rise and fall as she sleeps, his fingers lightly tracing shapes onto her arm. She moves closer to him subconsciously, her face buried into the crook of his neck. He's wide awake, relishing in the contact as long as he can, because this time tomorrow, he'll be stammering and stuttering as he tells her the truth. His mind goes in circles about the acceptance letter hidden in the boot box under his bed. He takes a deep breath and kisses her temple before closing his eyes and willing his mind to shut off, but the storm swirling in his heart keeps him from resting. Jake instead spends his night watching her sleep, seeing her eyes flutter as she dreams, and thanks his lucky stars for the short time he had in her orbit. As the sun's rays begin to shine through the curtains of the bedroom, Jake's eyes finally began to close with sleep, his dreams peaceful.

Honey wakes with to the blinding sunlight hours later. She squints her eyes at the intruding brightness, before adjusting and opening them fully. She looks up to see Jake’s eyes closed with sleep, his blonde locks tossed about haphazardly. Even in sleep his eyebrows furrowed and she frowned, not liking seeing him in discomfort. She kisses the underside of his jaw lightly, and it causes him to stir just slightly. She shuffles just a bit in his hold, her body tired, but her mind wide awake. He shuffles again before his eyes blink open, and his spare hand rubs the sleep from them before looking down at her. He grins.

“Hi,” she speaks sheepishly, her pointer finger drawing shapes against his bare shoulder.

“Mornin’ baby,” He whispers down to her, kissing the crown of her head as he’s waking up. He knows they need to get dressed and shuffle back up to the house soon, or else his grandparents would be nosing around. Them lying naked in bed together was the last thing he wanted them to see.

“Are you okay?”

Her words take him by surprise. He wrinkles his brows, pushing her still slightly curly hair out of her face, before letting it rest around her waist again.

“M’peachy, darlin’. Why? Do I look rough or somethin’?”

She shakes her head.

“You were frownin' in your sleep, thought you were having a bad dream or something.”

Jake sighs, he wished it was only a bad dream. He painted on a smirk.

“I’m fine, promise. Didn’t get much sleep, couldn’t stop staring at the pretty girl in my arms.”

Honey wasn’t quite sure if she believed him, but she didn’t want to ruin the moment by pestering him.

“Such a flirt, Seresin,” she rises up to rest on her elbows, leaning down to leave a chaste kiss on his lips. “We should probably head back up before the old folks start poking around.”

He nods, another signature grin forming on his face.

“I’ll get up and movin’ as soon as you do.”

Honey plops back down against her pillows, the sunlight on her exposed skin now giving her a sunkissed appearance. It made Jake’s insides flame with want again, and he says nothing before kissing her neck again. She’s underneath him again in a split second, the air filled with the chirping of the morning birds and the sounds of pleasure tumbling from both of their lips. After they both reach their highs, she collapses back onto her pillow, his warm hands pulling her back to his front. He nuzzles his head into the crook of her neck, placing a kiss there as he lightly rubs his thumb against the top of her hip. They relish in one another’s presence in the shared bed, stealing kisses and not-so-innocent touches. They’re both too caught up in one another to realize that time was ticking by faster than they could imagine.

As Jake fell asleep next to her, he dreamt of a life years from now, curled into the very bedroom he’d fallen asleep in, a little different in decor, and definitely some thicker curtains, but she’d been bare beneath him, her sweet sounds filling his ears. He’d collapsed next to her, but when he looked down, a gold band adorned his left hand. When sunlight began to peep from around the windows of the imaginary life he created, he noted the sound of children’s laughter in the next room over. When he woke up to find Honey resting under his chin, his dream had almost felt real, more a glimpse into the future rather than a dream.

The cloud they live on seems to float into the next few weeks. It was as if they were finally falling victim to all of the typical teenage love things: sneaking around behind his grandparents back, keeping as quiet as possible while they fooled around with one another in shared sheets. They'd sneak out Jake's window and sneak off to an empty pasture in Jake's truck for complete solitude, just the two of them under a starry Texas sky. Honey had never smiled so wide, and her happiness practically radiated off of her. Jake couldn't help but feel her happiness just by being in her presence, her true bubbly nature on full display for him.

But the day before graduation, they're knocked down from their personal cloud nine.

Honey had left the house early for Haley's-a whole day for Honey to enjoy the warm Texas weather before the stress of graduation tomorrow. She'd been so happy before leaving, bumbling around their shared room in a swimsuit that made Jake's head spin. He'd tempted her to stay behind, all puppy dog eyes and grabby hands. She simply ignored him, grabbing her book of the week off of its designated spot on the bedside table, intending to read it while she sat poolside. She left with a beach towel in hand and a kiss on his cheek.

The second the front door shut with her departure, Jake had been a bundle of nerves, completely on edge as he paced back and forth. By the time he finally settled onto the mattress he had likely worn a hole in the carpet of his bedroom. He had finally procrastinated until the literal very last day, and now he had to burst her bubble with something they could've settled already if he'd just told her. He fumbled with the letter in his hand, rereading the paper over and over as if the words would magically change. His full legal name stared back at him in big, black, bold letters, almost taunting him.

'Mr. JACOB T. SERESIN III

1021 SERESIN FARM RD.

HAVEN, TX 77382

Dear Jacob,

I am pleased to invite you to join the United States Naval Academy as a member of the class of...'

Jake stopped, he didn't need to read anymore. He already knew what it said, and it wouldn't change. He'd already sent his acceptance, and, in less than a month he'd be on his way to Maryland for his summer. He slammed the letter onto the empty spot on the bedside table, throwing on his boots and heading towards the barn in an effort to focus his attention on something else. He worked silently, only his grumbles filling the air as his mind spun with the thousand different ways he was going to explain this to the person who he loved most. He had put it off for far too long, and he had to tell her, today. No more making excuses or putting it off, he would do it, no matter how terrified it made him. He took a deep breath and swiped at the sweat forming on his face as he made his way out to the fence line that needed repairing-that'd keep him busy for a while. As he worked, he was so laser-focused he had hardly noticed the sun beginning to set, or the sound of Haley's car rolling down the driveway. He definitely didn't hear the sound of his girlfriend's sweet laughter as she bid her friend farewell and rushed into the house to find him.

She frowned as she looked on the main floor, finding no signs of him, and she shuffled up the stairs as she called after him.

"Jake, are you up here?"

She noted his open bedroom door, and made her way in. Her shoulders fell as his presence was lacking in the empty room. She shook her head and plopped her bag onto his desk chair and moved to sit her (completely unread) novel onto it's spot on the bedside table, only to find the spot already filled. She assumed the paper was for her, maybe a note left by Jake, so she picked it up and began to read it. Her entire body stilled as she noted Jake's full name in a bold font, his address underneath.

'Dear Jacob,

I am pleased to invite you to join the United States Naval Academy...'

Her heart raced, eyes darting as she skimmed over the fluff of the letter, her attention going back when she noticed dates in bold letters.

'Induction Day is June 27th, which is the beginning of your-"

She stopped reading, her chest feeling tight. She sits down on the bed as she rereads the paper in her hand, as if she had misread the words printed so clearly on the page. Her hands were shaking, and her mind was reeling. She simply could not believe this was real, it had to be some mistake in the system. Jake wouldn't be leaving for Maryland come late June, he was coming with her to UT in August. As her chest heaved, she raced down the stairs with the letter held tightly to her torso. She was thankful Janet and Jacob Sr. had been selling at the farmer's market this afternoon, because her emotions had begun to rise to concerning levels, and if Jake didn't explain, things would get explosive.

When she reached the end of the stairs, she caught his work hat out of the corner of her eye.

"Hey, baby, didn't see you come in," His face is painted with a smirk as he leans against the kitchen counter, glass of water in hand. Honey is having none of his flirtations.

"Jake, what is this?" She lifts the letter so the words were facing him.

Jake's smirk falls, his eyes peering into her own, and he swallows thickly. He says nothing, his mouth feeling incredibly dry despite the water he had just downed.

"This is a joke right? O-Or some mix-up in the system? Maybe you should call them, m-maybe there's another Jacob Thomas Seresin in the system and they sent it to the wrong address, or-" She's shaking her head as she looks down at the letter in her shaky hands. "Because this can't be right. I mean...right?"

Jake looks at her, her chest heaving with short breaths, eyes darting between him and the letter in her trembling hold. She bites her lip, waiting for him to speak, to reassure her it was a big mistake, or a mean prank he'd planted for her, just for him to say something.

He longs to look down and see anger behind her eyes, or for her to scream and shout at him, anything to diminish the pleading look that stares up at him.

"Jake? Talk to me, what's going on?"

He had been quiet for too long. He shakes his head at her.

"I-It's not some mix-up, Honey. I'm going to the Naval Academy at the end of June."

Honey's eyes dart back and forth between his own, trying to understand.

"As like a summer program or somethin'?"

Jake shakes his head again, moving slowly to take the letter from her, grasping her trembling hands into his own.

"I'm attending the Academy full-time. I-"

Honey begins to tune out everything he's saying, as if his words had shut off her ability to think. She stares down at her feet, not sure what to say.

"-I-I wanted to tell you soo-"

"How long have you known?"

Her abrupt words cut him off, and he looks at her confused.

"I-"

"Because I've only heard mention of the Naval Academy once. During football season, and only in passing," She pauses, her once bright eyes now heavy with sorrow. "H-Have you been lying to me this whole time?"

She takes two timid steps back from him, ripping her hands from his grasp.

"Honey, baby, no, I-"

"Don't call me that," her voice is quiet, and when he looks up at her again, her eyes are full of tears that had slowly begun to fall down her cheeks. "This induction d-date, it's less than a month from now. Were you ever going to tell me if I didn't find this?"

Her arms are crossed across her chest, her body language fully on defense. There was no shouting or sharp comments that were fueled by anger, as Jake had expected. Instead of lashing out at him, she simply folded in on herself.

"All these months, everything we talked about. Going to college together, movin' in together, marriage, babies...was it some sick joke to you? Because that shit was real to me, Jacob."

The use of his full name comes as a digging surprise, she only ever used it in a joking manner, but now, she was far from joking. Jake doesn't say anything, standing stupidly as the girl he loves falls apart in front of him. His mind is overrun with things he wants to say to her, to shout from the rooftop, but none of it seems worthy enough at this moment. He's hurt her, in a way he couldn't imagine he ever would, and nothing he could say would fix it.

"I-If you wanted to break up with me," she stops, digging the heels of her hands into her eyes as her lips tremble on the cusp of a sob. She takes a deep breath, one that looks painful even through Jake's own teary eyes. "I-If you wanted to break up with me, yo-you should've just told me, because this, this is so much worse."

Jake's heart sinks, that's the last thing he wanted to do.

"Honey, I'm not breakin' up with you. I-I'm doin' this for you," His chest is rising and falling just as rapidly as hers, but he's not quite as good at pulling the reins of his own emotions. "If I went to UT, I'd waste my grandparents' money takin' classes I would half-ass, and probably permanently damage my body playin' football. I'd come back to Haven after wastin' four years, take over the farm, and stay here forever until I die, n-"

"That's a bad thing? I didn't realize my dreams were so lowly compared to yours." Her voice is sharp. Her uneasiness is now festering in insecurity, and, as a result, anger.

"That's not what I'm sayin'," Jake tries to slow his breathing, desperate pleading with her to just listen to him. "When I go and do this Honey, we'll have a better life. You'll get a gorgeous house on a beautiful piece of land, in any city in the country you want. I'll get to do what I truly want to do for the rest of my life. Honey, I know you love Haven, God, I do too, it's my home, but you and I both know we're made for somethin' bigger, baby."

She can't even bear to look at him, putting almost all of her energy in not collapsing into gut-wrenching sobs in the middle of the tile floor. She shakes her head as she lets out a dry laugh.

"You're so hard-headed, Jake. I already have a gorgeous house on a beautiful piece of land, in the only city in the world I'd want to plant roots in. My house could be a cardboard box next to a dumpster in New York City if you were next to me! You think UT was my dream school, that I wanted to plant my life in Austin?! I chose it because I knew you'd be by my side! That was all I ever wanted! But now I'm realizin' just how girlish and naive that sounds, and I'm sorry. I-I didn't realize you dreamt of somethin' different. I-I just wish you would've told me." She wipes the stray tears sliding down her face, the sad, watery smile he expected her to wear paints her face. She looks back down at her hands, picking at the skin around her nails.

"Congratulations," her voice is so small he hardly hears it. "I know you'll do great, you always do. I, um, I'm gonna go home."

Jake's blood freezes. "You are home."

She gives him another faux smile as she shakes her head back and forth.

"This is your home, Jake. My home is at the end of the road. You know where to find me."

"No," he steps in front of her. "I-I know you're angry, and you've got every right to be. But I'm not lettin' you go back there. You take our bed, I'll sleep on the couch. O-Or we can sleep in separate rooms for now. I'm not lettin' you run off because you're scared I'm leavin'. No matter what you think, I still love you, that's never changin'. I'm not dumpin' you off, Honey, that isn't what this is."

He sees it, the light completely draining from her as the conversation continues. The years of breaking her out of her shell, of healing her eternal worry of everyone she loves leaving, it was all wiped within a matter of minutes. He had carved an open wound into the heart he'd sewn back together, and now, she stands in front of him, numb and completely breaking simultaneously.

Her back is facing him, and his hand lands softly on her arm as her torso shudders with an audible sob. She clutches at her chest as her breaths are short and ragged, and Jake knows this action well. She's panicking, her anxious thoughts culminating in physical symptoms. As much as he, too, wanted to collapse into a pile of grief, he moved to help her through her own.

"Hey, hey, you're okay, you're okay," Jake's voice is at a normal level, his hand grabbing her own and bringing it to his chest. "You gotta breathe, darlin'. C'mon."

Her eyes look up at him, and he doesn't even recognize the person staring back at him. It shakes him to his core, but he pushes through until she's breathing calmly next to him, both of their backs against the counter as they sit on the cold kitchen tile. In an action he doesn't quite understand, she moves to rest her head on his shoulder. She doesn't utter a word, but she allows him to hold her close. She falls asleep against him, and he brings her to his own bed, tucking her in before placing a kiss on her forehead. He moves to leave the room, but her voice stops him.

"Jake?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't leave. Stay with me, please. I don't want to lose you before I have to."

He doesn't argue, his heart is too tender to ever deny her request. He slides into the sheets next to her as she tucks her head under his chin, as if nothing had changed. But, for Honey, everything had changed.

She had been a fool, stupid, to think Jake wouldn't dump her after taking what he wanted from her. Her mother's sharp words rang around in her mind:

"That Seresin boy will dump you the second he gets what he wants, girl. Just you watch."

"You? With a boy like him? You must be more stupid than I thought, sweetheart."

"You're going to end up just like me, lied to, cheated on, with a ungrateful, bitch daughter who hates your guts."

Jake rested peacefully, while Honey saw everything she feared most come alive around her. Silent tears ran down her own face, and as she sat there, she knew what she had to do-if Jake was going to abandon her, she'd follow suit.

The night of graduation, after diplomas had been given out and caps had been thrown, Honey and Jake's small friend group had all come together on the Seresin's place, gathered around a bonfire in an empty clearing, most of them nursing bottles of alcohol they had smuggled from their parents' supply. Honey watched as Jake laughed with Brett and Willie, darting her eyes down when Ethan brought Sarah Grace into a smothering kiss as she jokingly pushed him off of her. She felt like the Honey she used to be-sitting idly on the sidelines as life happened to everyone else. She carried a heavy sadness and anger in her chest, one she could never put down, not even with the concoction of various liquids in the solo cup she held, occasionally taking sips. The burn felt nice, an easy distraction from the gnawing of anger in her chest. She smiled as Willie pulled her from her chair and made her dance to a stupid country song, feeling a little lighter as she let loose. One look at Jake had her shut down again, recluse in her green lawn chair. As the night carried on, she looked out at her friend group one last time, memorizing the warm feeling, because it was the last time they would be her friends. Come morning, she'd be long gone from Haven, and, since they were Jake's friends first, she'd lose them.

After the festivities of the night were over and their guests had stumbled back to their own homes, Jake and Honey made their way back inside, carrying out their routine as if it was any other night. Despite the unresolved feelings she carried, Honey refused to let Jake carry them too. She remained neutral, still sleeping in his arms every night, still tagging along at events, as far as he knew, they had three days until he left for the Academy, and he had planned to spend every waking moment with her. He had no idea of the plans that Honey had, the ones that would unexpectedly change his life forever.

The Seresin farm house was eerily quiet. Everyone was asleep as the moonlight seeped in through the thin curtains. At least, mostly everyone.

Under the guise of the darkness, Honey slips out of Jake's arms slowly, moving so carefully as to not wake him up. If he woke up and caught her, she'd never go through with her plan, she'd be sucked back into bed with his encapsulating emerald eyes and his desperate pleas for her to stay. She shuffles across the hall to her own bedroom, sliding the duffel bag she'd packed out from under her bed, sliding on her trusty Converse high tops, and shutting the door behind her. As she shuffles down the stairs with Jake's car keys in her hands, her racing mind thinks of the conversation they'd had just four days prior. She'd been sleeping in his grasp as he whispered down to her.

"My truck," he started, his hands intertwining in her hair. "I want you to take it, to UT. I won't be here to use it, and it'll make me feel better knowing you'll have a way to get back and forth."

She'd protested and fought him on it, but now, as she snuck out of the creaky front door, she was glad he'd done it. She slung her bag into the back seat, sliding into the driver's side, and slamming the door closed. Her chest heaves with anxious breaths, tears already clouding her eyes. She shoves them down and adjusts the seat that had been set for Jake's lanky legs, and turns the key. The local country station comes on, and Honey ignores it, turning her body to look out the back glass and backs the truck out of the yard and down the dusty driveway, ready for the long drive ahead of her. She was leaving Jake in a way that only felt right-he wasn't going to take that from her, she wouldn't be the one abandoned this time-he would.

Jake had woken as he heard her footsteps descend down the stairs. It wasn't unusual, Honey had been up at all hours of the night since the day of their disagreement. He shut his eyes closed again, leaving his arms open for her to slide back into. When the sound of his truck starting fills his ears, he pops his eyes open, not bothering to even throw on a shirt as he takes the stairs two at a time, running through his house and out the front door in only his boxers. He only gets a glimpse of the taillights down the driveway as his bare feet hit the grass of the yard. He's stomping back through the house, not caring much if he wakes anyone. He's lifting the house phone with a quick pace, dialing her cellphone number even quicker. As he expected, no answer. His hands shake, his heart hammers, and he runs back up the stairs to at least toss on a shirt and some shoes, his looks be damned. He was going to grab the keys to his grandfather's truck and take after her, she couldn't have made it further than down the road by now.

When he slams open his door, he notices the letter on his nightstand, because it's out of place. Normally, Honey's book or multiple books rest there, ready for her to pick up whenever. Instead it's a flat, white sheet of paper, and he glares at it as if he could make it catch flames. He snatches it up and opens it, expecting to find Honey's delicate cursive etched onto it in ink. Instead he finds typed letters, Honey's legal first and last name in big, bold letters at the top of the page. She had likely denoted her preferred name, because it was used in the greeting.

"Dear Honey,

Congratulations on your admission to Mississippi State University! For over 100 years, MSU..."

Jake stops reading, his unease turning into flaming hot anger. He slams the letter back onto the nightstand as tears form in his eyes, his chest growing tight with the bout of sobs threatening to fall from his lips. He sits down on his mattress, his head in his hands as he lets his silent tears fall onto the carpet below. How had he not noticed it? Had there been signs? There had been no sudden withdrawal of her affections, no serious changes in her mood. As Jake calms the best he can at the moment, he realizes she didn't mean this in malice, just like he didn't have any malice behind shipping off to the Academy. He loved her, and, at least he hoped, she still loved him. They had been sewn at the hip since they were nine years old, perhaps it was due time they went their separate ways. No matter how much he told himself that this was for the better, he felt alone, empty. At this moment, despite knowing and loving her for over a decade, Jake, for the first time in his life, finally knew exactly how Honey always felt: abandoned.

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st4rfckerz · 11 months ago

Text

early present | anakin skywalker x reader

word count: 2.4k

warnings: MDNI 18+, fluff, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, praise, anakin's a cutie pie

summary: anakin comes home after work with a little surprise.

a/n: MERRY CHRISTMAS AND OTHER HOLIDAYS!!!! i'd be lying if i said this didn't come to me while listening to stargirl interlude but anyways enjoy you filthy animals.

it’s sunday evening and you’ve just finished cooking a large dinner and the dishwasher is running as you’re waiting for your husband, anakin, to get home. the twins were staying at their grandparents' house since its the weekend, leaving you and anakin alone for a few days. you were looking forward to spending time together without any distractions.

the house is quiet and peaceful with the exception of the running dishwasher and the music playing through a little radio you have propped up on the window sill. you hummed softly to yourself as you stood at the kitchen sink, washing the dishes after cooking a delicious dinner. the scent of the freshly cooked meal cooling on the stovetop still lingered in the air, making your stomach growl with anticipation. as you rinsed the foam off the plates, you glanced at the clock on the wall and realized he should be arriving any minute now.

you had decided to wear a green floral dress, hoping to look nice for anakin. the dress was fitted to your body, and you could feel the silk caress your skin as you moved. it was simple but elegant, and you felt good in the dress.

this year, you and anakin had agreed on would spending your money on christmas gifts for the twins instead of each other. there was a mutual understanding that neither of you would be getting each other presents. you had planned to stay true to your word, but it was really difficult to shop without purchasing anything for anakin. so, you secretly bought him a new watch, wrapped it carefully and hid it in your nightstand. it was just a small surprise, but you hoped it would make him happy anyway.

lost in your own thoughts, you didn't hear the front door creak open or the familiar sound of anakin's footsteps approaching from behind. it wasn't until you felt warm hands wrapping around my waist that you jolted in surprise.

"what are you doing!" you hastily turned around at the sound of anakin's booming voice. a small yelp escaped your lips and your hand flew to you chest as you tried to steady your racing heart. you eyes widened in surprise as you met his gaze, only to see the mischievous smile on his face and hear his laughter fill the kitchen. he was thoroughly enjoying the reaction he had elicited from you.

"very funny anakin." you smile and roll your eyes. you turn back around to resume doing dishes, and anakin wraps his arms around your waist and rests his chin on your shoulder.

"i'm sorry," anakin chuckles, you can feel his breath on your neck and his chest pressed against your back. his hands are holding you closely, their warmth spreading through your body. it's a cozy moment of closeness and affection. even though you're not doing dishes well with him wrapped around you, you're enjoying it anyway.

"you look really good today," he complimented, his voice filled with sincerity and genuine appreciation. "you smell good too, you're wearing my favorite." anakin takes a comically large whiff of your neck.

"ani stop, that tickles." you giggle. the warm vanilla scent is intoxicating, and he can't resist. anakin gives you a lingering kiss on your jaw, still keeping his arms around your waist to keep you close.

"ok ok, i'll behave," anakin pauses, his lips still pressed against your neck, to let out a breath. "i got you somethin'," he whispers quietly. anakin lifts a long rectangular box from his pocket and holds it up in front of you. the gift is wrapped in sparkly green and red wrapping paper, adorned with a simple white ribbon. you are filled with anticipation as you stare at the box.

you turn around to meet his playful gaze again. "ani, you didn't have to get me anything." you explain to him.

"you don't even know what it is," anakin replies with a small smirk. "look, i know you said we weren't getting each other gifts, but i just thought this would be nice." ye holds the gift out to you and you take it in your hands. the wrapping is thin, and you can already hear the rustling of paper inside the box. anakin can't keep the grin off his face, as if he's dying to see your reaction to the gift.

you gingerly take the wrapped gift from anakin, slowly peeling back the thin layer of wrapping paper. your eyes widen when you see the gold plated necklace, with a striking "A" initial. it's delicate but vibrant, and the gold plating gives it a subtle touch of elegance. anakin is watching you patiently, his eyes glimmering with pride. ye leans forward eagerly, wanting to see your reaction to the present he chose for you.

"do you like it?" he asks softly. anakin folds his hands behind his back, holding back a smile as he waits for your answer. he keeps a close eye for any hint of disappointment or hesitation in your face, feeling uneasy. he wants this to be a nice surprise.

you nod slowly as you trace the initials with your fingers. the gold is so bright and shiny that you can almost see your reflection in it. "i love it, thank you." you tell him with a smile. anakin's expression is one of pride, and the look on his face tells you that he is happy that you like his gift.

"here, turn around." anakin pulls the necklace from the delicate, little box and puts the necklace around your neck. his fingers linger on your skin as he pulls the chain just tight enough so that the pendant sits above your collarbone. as anakin finishes fixing your necklace, he lifts your chin up to meet his eyes. you can't help the swarm of butterflies in your stomach as his thumb softly grazes against your cheekbone. his deep blue eyes are intense and his face is inches away from yours. you can feel the heat from his body radiating on your skin and it sends a shiver down your spine. anakin's gaze is unwavering and his eyes are locked on yours. he can't help but admire how the necklace highlights your best features and brings out your true beauty.

"so beautiful." anakin whispers before planting a kiss to your lips. the sensation is soft and sweet, like honey. like always, you can feel the spark between the two of you when your lips meet. anakin's hands slide down to your neck, tracing the edge of your collar bone where the necklace sits. anakin pulls you closer, his lips never leaving yours, and his fingers start to roam down your back.

the kiss becomes more heated as anakin starts backing you up against the counter. his lips are greedy, demanding more and more from you. anakin pulls you closer to him, pressing your body tightly against his. the kiss becomes even more heated and anakin's grip on you tightens. the kiss becomes heavier, almost desperate. anakin's hands move to your waist and his grip on you squeezes tightly, like he never wants to let go. his breath is warm as his tongue glides across your lips. you part your lips to grant him access, inviting his tongue to dance with yours. your soft moans reverberate through the air as anakin’s hands tenderly caress your waist, his touch sending sparks of electricity down your spine.

"my girl. mine." anakin's voice is deep and husky, and his words fall like velvet on your ears. he moans softly as he presses his tongue deeper into your mouth, his lips and body pressed deeply against yours. you can almost taste the desperation behind his words, like he is trying to pull you closer and never let go. you feel arousal shoot down to your core as anakin's words hit you in the right place. the feeling is all-encompassing, like a tide rushing towards you, and it's overwhelming in a very good way. your breath is fast and shallow, and you can't help but let out a moan.

"ani, i need you." you speak in between sloppy kisses, the words coming out hot and desperate. the ache that settled in your center was becoming unbearable, you needed something, you needed him.

"i know angel." anakin sighs. the words sent a shiver down your spine and you can feel the heat rising within you. your heart was pounding in your chest, your breath catching in your throat. anakin's hands glide down your back, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake, before firmly settling on your hips. with a sudden surge of strength, anakin spins you around, pushing your body against the cold surface of the kitchen counter. he cups your ass, squeezing it with a possessive grip. anakin's firm grasp then captures the edges of your dress, lifting it up and over the curve of your ass. a low growl escapes his throat once he notices the white lacy panties you decided to wear.

"oh sweetheart, s'this for me?" anakin coos sweetly. he revels in the sight of you, his eyes locked on the alluring contrast of the white lace against your warm flesh. anakin's gaze lingers on the wet spot that adorns the fabric of your panties. the moisture seeps through, leaving a damp and slick sensation against your skin. you nod shyly, a faint blush creeps across your cheeks.

anakin's fingers delicately curl around the waistband of your soaked panties. with a gentle tug, he starts to peel them down, revealing your glossy folds. the cool air caresses your aching cunt, sending an electrifying shiver up your spine.

feeling the heat and urgency of the moment, anakin unbuckles his pants, allowing them to pool at his feet. his engorged cock springs free, standing tall and proud in all its glory. your eyes are drawn to the sight before you, captivated by the throbbing length and girth that anakin possesses.

anakin's hand moves with practiced ease along his pulsating shaft, pumping it a few times, a low groan escapes his lips.

anakin's movements grow more deliberate as he uses his hand to guide the tip of his member along your slick folds, spreading your wetness and teasingly grazing against your sensitive bundle of nerves.

"you're driving me crazy." anakin grits. he aligns his pulsating member with your slick entrance, and with a steady, controlled thrust, he sinks deep inside you. the instant connection of your bodies shatters any remaining restraint, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from both of you. the feeling of fullness envelops you, stretching you deliciously to accommodate his girth. it's a perfect union, as if your bodies were made to fit together like pieces of a puzzle.

your body quivers as the sensations intensify, your arms reaching out in front of you, instinctively grasping at the smooth surface of the countertop. your fingers dig into the material, desperate for something to ground you amidst the overwhelming ecstasy that fills every fiber of your being. you arch your back and let out strings of sweet moans that echo through the room.

"look at you, my pretty little wife dressing up for me," anakin adjusts his angle slightly, aiming to hit that special spot that drives you wild. "i've been thinkin' about you all day angel, jus' the thought of you makes me hard." his words, a sultry murmur in your ear, ignite a fire within you. your body instinctively responds, your walls contracting around him, gripping him in a vice-like embrace. anakin lets out a deep, hoarse moan, the sensation of your gummy walls pushing him to the brink of his own release.

"ani m'close, so close," words tumble from your lips in a breathless babble as you seek to convey the urgency that pulses through your veins.

anakin's voice is shaky and needy, a torrent of words pouring forth from his lips. "angel," he moans, his voice breathless, "i want - i want to put another baby in you. let me fill you up, can i please..." his breath comes in ragged gasps, matching the intensity of his thrusts, as he confesses his own impending climax. a quiet "yes" escapes your lips and your body quivers beneath his forceful thrusts. anakin's breath hitches, an audible groan escaping his lips as your fervent request reaches his ears.

a blinding wave of relief overtakes you as your climax hits, leaving you feeling all warm and fuzzy. you can feel the pulsating warmth as anakin spills himself within you, filling you up completely with his hot cum.

anakin takes a second before carefully withdrawing himself from your tired cunt, you can hear his belt buckle clinking around as he fixes his pants. he trails feather-light kisses along your shoulders, peppering your skin with affectionate adoration.

"stay still," anakin leans down slightly to inspect your pulsating pussy. his gaze roams over your sticky folds, admiring the flushed hue that tells of your arousal. anakin traces the length of your entrance, teasingly circling the rim before slowly slipping inside to push his cum further into you.

"such a pretty pussy." he whispers. anakin's fingers delicately slide your panties back up before tugging your dress back into place, a tender affection resonates in his touch. his hands settle on your waist, his gaze filled with adoration as he turns you around to face him. the intensity in his eyes is evident as he surveys your flushed and satiated form. a satisfied smile curves his lips as he takes in the sight of you, his fingers trailing gently along your jawline. anakin leans in, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss.

in the midst of the tender kiss, you feel a surge of excitement bubbling within you. the realization that you have a surprise gift for anakin cannot be contained, and you gently pull away from the kiss, a spark of eagerness illuminating your eyes.

"i got you something too." you beam. anakin's lips curve into a playful smile, his eyes mirroring your enthusiasm.

"it can wait," he says, his tone filled with a commanding edge that sends shivers down your spine. "right now, i want to see you on the bed, wearing nothing but your necklace." his voice grows husky as he speaks. you press a final, lingering kiss to anakin's lips, a sneaky smile dances across your face. with a playful sway of your hips, you turn to leave the room, but just as you begin to walk away, a sharp and satisfying sting resonates across your ass, making you let out a small yelp. you can hear anakin's footsteps approach from behind, a flutter of nervousness tickles your senses.

anakin had you in the palm of his hands and he had no intention of letting you go soon.

#nai writes ୨୧ #anakin fluff #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #anakin #hayden christensen #hayden christensen x reader #st4rfckerz

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happiest-hotch · 2 years ago

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Mother's Day

Summary: Jack has a very important, surprise gift to give you on a special holiday for your inaugural celebrations together

Paring: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader (Fluff)

WC: 1.4k

Whenever he can, Aaron leaves work early to get Jack. Thankfully, with Strauss's return, he's not still stuck doing two jobs, so he finishes his work in time to get Jack from school. You also love when he has days like that because it means he'll cook something delicious and homemade, maybe even dessert if Jack has anything to say about it.

Jack gets into the car like any other day, but what he says isn't the typical comment about his day or request for an afternoon activity. "Did you know it's Mother's Day this weekend?" Jack asks.

Aaron's heart clenches in his chest. Mother's Days, birthdays, Christmases, and the anniversary of Haley's death are all especially hard days for Jack, and Aaron tries his best to support his son. "Do you want to talk about mom?" He asks softly as he drives. Since Jack doesn't remember a lot of it, Aaron fills in the blanks and answers the questions.

"No, I might want to talk to her tonight, but I want to get a present," Jack explains.

Aaron frowns a little but accepts it. "We can do that. What do you want to get her?"

Jack's thinking face looks like his dad's, something you were the first to point out to Aaron. "I don't know." He admits. "You always get roses for Y/n so maybe I can get her flowers?"

That really throws Aaron, and it rapidly occurs to him that he and Jack aren't talking about the same person. "You want to get a present for Y/n?" He clarifies.

Jack shifts uncomfortably in his car seat, clearly nervous at his father's reaction. "I'm sorry. Is that wrong?"

Aaron can't shake his head fast enough. "No. No, of course not, buddy." He assures his son, reaching back with one hand to touch the boy's foot for extra reassurance. "I think she'd really like that. What made you think you want to get something for her?" He tries to ask it in a non-judgemental, casual tone.

"Well, in class, we were all talking about what we love about our moms, and a lot of the things that my friends were talking about are things that Y/n does for me." He explains, and Aaron feels his heart clench in the best way that time while he bites down a wide smile. "Mom is still my mom, and I'm not forgetting how she used to do those things for me, but Y/n is there for me too."

Aaron notices what he's emphasizing, and he's immensely proud of Jack for being able to express those feelings, understanding that appreciating his mom and recognizing your role in his life aren't mutually exclusive.

Then he's thinking about you as he absorbs the confession. And how lucky he is to have you. You have been a constant source of support and love, a beacon of hope and stability in the wake of their family tragedy, never anything but good to them. He feels so much joy and a tiny bit of sadness. He knows Haley would have loved you and appreciated how much you care for Jack, but he wishes she was there to see it.

He's choked up as he goes to speak. "Jack, that's very sweet of you, and I think, no, I know, Y/n feels the same way about you. She thinks you're the most amazing kid ever."

Jack smiles softly. "She does? Really?"

Aaron can't nod fast enough. "Yes, she always tells me how great she thinks you are."

"So we can get her a gift for her?" Jack confirms, looking hopeful.

"Absolutely." Aaron agrees, taking a right turn to the mall rather than a left to their home. "Whatever you want."

It's been such a long week of work and Saturday mornings are Jack's soccer games, so as soon as your Saturday movie night is over, you're fast asleep next to Aaron.

Like usual, he stirs beside you first on Sunday morning, but when you go to get up with him, he softly whispers for you to go back to sleep and that's very easy to do.

When you next wake up, the sun is creeping through the blinds at a different angle, signaling that you slept in for longer than you usually would.

There's a soft knock at the bedroom door before you can properly wake up and get out of bed, and you softly call out for who you expect to be Jack to come in.

You're right in your guess that it's Jack, who quickly jumps up onto the bed with you, followed by his father who has a breakfast tray with a big vase of flowers on it accompanying a delicious-looking plate of French toast.

"Wow, you've both been busy this morning." You mumble sleepily as you sit up to hug Jack who's jumping into your arms.

"Happy Mother's Day!" He cheers joyfully, and you're taken off guard by the greeting, completely shocked.

Your eyes dart to Aaron's to make sure you heard Jack correctly, and his wide smile confirms you have. He's looking between you both with so much love and tenderness, his heart so full it feels like it's bursting.

Your eyes fill with tears as you realize the enormity of what he's just said. "Thank you, Jack." You squeeze him even tighter in a hug, not wanting him to slip away from this perfect moment.

He pulls back and smiles at you before turning back to his dad. "Can we give it to her?" He asks.

"Sure, bud." Aaron agrees, setting the tray down over the top of your legs. He sits near the foot of the bed while Jack snuggles into your side.

Jack reaches forward to pick up the little box next to the breakfast. "Here." He hands it to you. "Happy Mother's Day. Thank you for caring so much about me."

You kiss his forehead, holding him tighter to his side as you gladly accept his thoughtful and unexpected gift. "You're very welcome. I love you, Jackers."

Whatever he has for you has to be jewelry from the small, flat shape of the box and the designer jewelry stamp. You open it up, and your heart melts more, if it were possible. What's inside is a gorgeous gold bracelet with a flat, circular charm, engraved with the letter J.

Jack touches it as your finger does. "It's a J for Jack."

You nod so you don't start crying too much. You're so overwhelmed by gratitude and happiness that you can't help but let one tear slip out.

"Thank you." You finally get the words out. "It's perfect and I love it so much. I'm going to wear it every day, so you're always with me."

Jack's grinning a proud grin, clearly proud of himself for picking it out. Aaron had told him how much you would love it, but seeing it confirms it for him. "I think it'll look beautiful on you." He tells you adorably.

You chuckle a little. "You're a sweet talker just like your dad, you know?"

Aaron laughs next to you, but Jack's confused at what your compliment means, and his attention is drawn elsewhere. "Daddy and I made French toast for me as well. Oh, and I got you flowers."

It's a gorgeous bunch of flowers, beautiful colors, and lovely smells. "Thank you so much. Both of you." You repeat to them, making sure they're feeling the reciprocated love you're feeling.

"You're welcome," Jack says politely.

Aaron leans over to kiss your forehead. "I love you." He whispers.

You whisper it back before looking back at your breakfast plate. "There's a lot of French toast here, so I might need some help eating it." You say suspiciously, looking between Jack and Aaron.

Jack's eyes light up like he's been waiting for you to offer him some of it, and you can't blame him, it looks and smells like restaurant quality and you know breakfast foods are Aaron's strong suit cooking-wise.

"I am kind of hungry." Jack agrees, smirking at you softly.

"Eat up then, bud." You say, offering him the first spoonful. "We've got lots of fun stuff to do today."

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner one shot #criminal minds oneshot #criminal minds fic #criminal minds family

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thebiggerbear · 5 months ago

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"You're safe now. I'm here." - Russell Shaw Prompt Response Part 1

Summary: You've been taken hostage and Russell is part of the unit sent in to retrieve you.

Pairing: Russell Shaw x Female!Reader

A/N: This is a prompt from @sydnee-kom-spacekru that I had to turn into a two-parter because it got way too long for just one posting. I've been working on this since May 19th when I decided to add Russell to the multi-character prompt response project I'm currently working on.

For this story, I chose Colombia as the country featured in here because I remember when we were growing up, we would ask our parents why we couldn't visit our cousins from there, and we were told it was too dangerous. As we grew older, we obviously found out why. That's the only reason I chose it for that part of the story. Obviously, I'm not making any statements, political or otherwise, about Colombia or any past/present situation happening there.

A tiny disclaimer: I do not work in the medical field so I apologize for any inconsistencies, exaggerations, or complete fallacies. I did my best to research but ultimately, I'm not trained in that industry. I also am not in the military, political, or governmental fields. I also am not the CEO of a major corporation. I utilized those parts of the story strictly for fictional purposes. So I apologize in advance again if I get anything incorrect for those fields.

All unbeta'd.

Part 2

Warnings: graphic violence; attempted sexual assault; trauma; graphic blood/injury; gun violence/gunfire; mentions of dead bodies; death; mentions of execution; kidnapping/hostage situation; PTSD; angst

Word Count: 11k+

You can also read on AO3

“You’re safe now, I’m here.”

Soldier Boy version ✨ SDV Leah version

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat; @deansbbyx

You slowly glanced around the room you were being held in. You winced when the pain in your head started up again from the movement. You knew you had some cuts on your face, your lip, and one near your hairline. One of the people who had taken you and your co-workers hostage had shouted at you in Spanish and worked you over a little. You understood most of what he had screamed but you had no answers for him.

You and your team had come down to visit the Bogota office upon the insistence of your father. The company his grandfather had started decades prior had expanded to become one of the top corporations in the United States, eventually branching out internationally. Growing up, you hadn’t wanted for anything. As you got older and entered high school, your father made it clear to you, being his only child, that he wanted you to follow in his footsteps and take over the family business one day. It wasn’t exactly what you’d dreamed of but it had been made known from the outset that whatever you might want would never matter in the scheme of things. Not when it came to the importance of legacy and carrying on the family name and the company’s brand, all while working closely with the Board. So, you had pursued your business degree in college at an Ivy League school, even going so far as to achieve your MBA and make your father proud.

You were quickly welcomed into the company and you put your nose to the grindstone, worked hard, and began to climb the corporate ladder. A lot of people knew that had to do with your last name but they also saw you working the same long hours as them, working just as much, and sacrificing any semblance of a personal life you could have had. You didn’t even have plants in your lavish city apartment because you were practically never there to water them. Weekends were a concept that ceased to exist the moment you left the university. If your co-workers worked 60-hour work weeks, you worked 80. If they worked through holidays like Memorial Day and July 4th, you worked those days, too, in addition to Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s. So you earned some respect, some envy, and some resentment — a healthy mix of it all as you raced to the top at your father’s constant prodding.

Only a year ago, you’d moved to Manhattan to run the New York office, a promotion that had your father beaming with pride. It was a bit of a transition, as any transition would be, but ultimately, you got to know your team, your department heads, and you’d settled in as best you could. You never truly relaxed into your role but you let your employees know up front that you were there to make things easier, not more difficult. You were interested in flooding the figurative harbor so everyone’s boats would rise, not just yours or the Board’s. Your father had not appreciated that little introductory speech you had made but you couldn’t find it in yourself to regret it. You had meant every word and you set out every single day to not only prove yourself but to also make that vision come true.

Which was partially what had brought you to the Bogota office. While you were responsible for New York, your father had made the valid point that you should travel to the international offices of Bogota, London, and Beijing. You should show your face and introduce yourself in person, not just on Zoom. You had been hesitant, not because you didn’t want to visit the sites and meet the crews, but because you still didn’t feel confident that you could afford to be away from your home office for that long (it would be about a two and a half week trip). Not because you didn’t trust your team to run things without you but because you had several projects in the works that required your constant participation, feedback, approval, and sometimes guidance. It felt strange to put it all at risk by choosing the most inopportune moment for you to go shake hands on the international stage and take tours of the other facilities. You didn’t want to leave your team in a lurch at a dire time such as this one. You had tried to explain all of this to your father when he grew irritated at your resistance.

“Stop with the excuses. You’re going and that’s final,” he had snapped at you before leaving your office. And that had been that.

The next morning, you and a few selected co-workers (handpicked by your father) were on a flight to Bogota, the first stop on your international tour. Thankfully, Colombia was only one hour behind New York so you’d be able to check in with your office as soon as you landed.

Things were going well with your visit, right up until the moment you and your team were leaving the building to head back to the hotel for a late lunch when you were ambushed. A black hood had been thrown over your head, you’d felt pain as something hit you from the side, and the next thing you knew, you woke up in a vehicle that you could feel and hear but not see. You had no idea what happened until you were instructed in Spanish to shut up, stay quiet and not struggle, and you wouldn’t get hurt. You knew you were in trouble when you came to but now you knew without a doubt as you listened to the conversation between the men surrounding you, you had been taken hostage.

You had no idea where they had brought you but you’d been there for what felt like a month though you couldn’t be sure. You had been held in the same room, only able to use the bathroom which they escorted you to. You were in some compound and any time you’d tried to sneak a peek out of an open window during your bathroom treks, you either got yelled at and hit or you could only make out a thick cover of trees. You and your group had been terrified every single day of your captivity that they would kill you all, or worse. You had three men in your group and four women including you. One of the kidnappers had already tried to take advantage of that fact and had thrown Meredith from Finance onto the floor, unbuckling his pants. You had begged in Spanish for her to be left alone while Pat and Suzanne had cried and screamed. Tim, Jerry, and Rob had all been taken to the bathroom beforehand (something that hadn’t happened before, they usually took the guys one at a time) so it had been just you four in the room. When the man didn’t show any signs of stopping and Meredith tearfully begged him from the floor to let her be, something switched off in your brain and you flew at him. You attempted to hit him anywhere you could but he knocked you down flat in seconds. He backhanded you a couple of times, making the women in the background scream louder, and he then decided you were going to be the one he was going to assault instead. He ripped your shirt and you tried to fight him off but he was too strong. Thankfully, another kidnapper heard all of the commotion and came running, rushing into the room and stopping the man, yelling at him that none of you were to be touched, that was part of the deal. Your would-be assailant yelled back at the man who had saved you and then got to his feet, spitting on you, as he stormed out of the room, followed by your unintentional savior.

You attempted to cover yourself with the shreds of your shirt but it was useless. You now only had a bra and little bits of cloth left from how violently he had torn the fabric. You were shaking but somehow you were able to crawl your way over to Meredith to check on her. Sobbing, she held onto you and before you knew it, Pat and Suzanne had rushed over, throwing their arms around you both, still crying themselves but also trying to speak reassurances to you both. Your body shook in their embrace as it finally hit you how close you had come to being assaulted. If that other man hadn’t interrupted when he did… You shuddered at the thought. It wasn’t long after that when Tim, Jerry, and Rob were returned to the room, their hoods removed, and one glance in your direction let them know immediately what had happened. Rob had actually removed his shirt and offered it to you, apologizing for the smell. You appreciated his selfless gesture but you were thankful when Tim instead offered up the windbreaker pullover he had been wearing the day you had been taken. You took the latter, thanking them both for their generosity and thoughtfulness. Tim at least still had his t-shirt.

Then, a couple of days later, you had been dragged from the room, thrust into a chair, and tied up. The questioning began, about the money from your company among other things, and you were worked over when they didn’t get the answers they wanted. You hadn’t noticed a man holding a smartphone while sitting in the corner, taking in every second of the torture you endured, until your interrogation ended. You had been afraid but seeing that phone…you were absolutely terrified. Were they going to kill you on video, sending it off to media outlets to share globally for your father to see? Or would they use social media?

They didn’t end up killing you, though. Instead, they brought you to a room with a single bed that you had never seen before. You did not like the fact that you had been separated from your group. You began to hyperventilate at the realization that they were isolating you for a purpose, thinking you would be attacked again, especially when you heard a loud gunshot reverberate from outside followed by yelling that you couldn’t quite make out. But instead of anyone coming to hurt you, they sent in a doctor to tend to your wounds. Once he had, you curled up into a ball and hugged your knees to your chest, waiting for the worst to happen, intent on fighting tooth and nail when the time came. But a few days later or however long it had been, they brought you back into the interrogation room again.

You expected the blows this time though they still hurt horribly. They began to cut you on your arms, near your neck, your shoulders, your torso…they never cut your face, though. While you were grateful for that small mercy, they still beat the hell out of you, the worst they ever had. While your face may have been spared the cutting, it was not spared the hits. You had even taken a couple of hard blows to the head that left you reeling. You didn’t even remember if you had screamed, cried, or begged for them to stop. Instead, you remembered some random saying in some movie you had seen stating that pain was the way you knew you were still alive. You held onto that as they continued to inflict as much damage as they could without actually killing you or making it impossible for you to speak. They had even unzipped Tim’s pullover at the beginning of the torture, leaving you in your bra, and besides the cuts they had also landed punches to your already severely bruised stomach and sides. They had even stomped on your bare feet, making you cry out as some of your toes broke from the force. They had even taken a bat to your right knee. That time you screamed the loudest you ever had in your life, sobbing so hard you didn’t think you’d ever be able to stop. The pain was immense, something you hadn’t felt before, and tears poured down your face, mixing with the blood dripping from a busted lip and most likely broken nose. When they stopped to take a break, it didn’t surprise you in the least that the same man with the phone from last time was there in the same corner. It did surprise you, though, that they didn’t leave. While you figured they were just ramping up to go for a second round, something told you that you may not come out alive from this particular interrogation. You could only hope the others you had been brought here with somehow did. A small part of you wondered if the reason they were going harder on you this time, possibly about to kill you on video, is because your company didn’t pay the sum demanded in the last one. You knew your father must have done everything he could to secure your release, even if the Board for some reason hadn’t. You hadn’t prayed since you were a girl, right before your mother died, but you sent a silent one up anyway to anyone who might be listening that your father would never see this footage. It would destroy him if he did. You didn’t expect much, though. Your mom had still passed away from a terminal illness, so you were pretty sure your father wouldn’t be spared seeing your last moments like this.

But instead of starting back up again as you anticipated, the men ended up stepping outside of the room though they left the phone behind, on some sort of stand, still pointing in your direction.

So now here you were, your body exhausted yet radiating nothing but pain. You slowly swung your head around in a daze, blinking against the bright light they had turned on before leaving. You waited for them to come back, to finally do their worst and possibly end your life. You were terrified but you also knew how badly injured you were, that there was nothing you could do. Even if you could somehow get loose, how would you manage to escape? Even if you got outside, this compound was heavily patrolled by armed guards. And even if by some miracle you could get past them without being seen or an alarm being sounded when your absence was discovered, you had no idea where you were. You were in the jungle for Christ’s sake, from the brief glimpses you’d managed to catch on your bathroom runs. You had no idea where to go from here. Still, though, you heard that small voice inside your head, telling you to fight, not to give in or give up. You had to work hard, be the best, and prove yourself. Go, go, go. The voice sounded strangely like your father’s.

As you waited for your captors to come back, you glanced around the room to see if there was anything that could help you. You attempted to move your arms but gasped in pain when you did. You didn’t even try anything with your right leg. You knew your kneecap was broken; it had to be. You chanced moving your left leg, though, but it didn’t budge. You were stuck to this chair.

Suddenly, you heard the last thing you expected. Gunfire.

Not that gunfire was all that unusual around here. You had heard some happen during your captivity but it was short and never answered. You and your co-workers had no idea what went on in the rest of the compound but after hearing those rounds being fired every so often, you didn’t really want to know.

But these were extended rapid bursts of gunfire and someone was definitely shooting back. Not to mention all of the furious yelling you could hear down the hall. You idly wondered if one of your people got free and they were making a break for it. If it was, you hoped they got free and were able to go for help.

You knew you should be scared as the gunshots got closer to you, when you heard more yells and some thuds right outside your door, but you simply resigned yourself to your fate. Especially when one of the kidnappers burst into the room and held a gun to your head, yelling in Spanish at an unseen person to stay back or he would kill you. Your body began to shake uncontrollably once more, thinking this was it. You knew it; you were going to die.

Two men swept into the room, dressed in tactical-looking gear and donning black face masks with holes only for eyes and mouths, assault rifles pointed in your captor’s direction. The man on your right told him to let you go in Spanish or he would be dead before he could squeeze a round off.

The man on your left briefly glanced at you, his gaze an assessing one, before focusing back onto his target. Your captor screamed at them and pushed the gun into your temple, making you shake harder and take shallow breaths.

“You got him?” The man on the left asked, surprising you when you heard him speak English. He sounded…American.

“I got him,” the man on the right answered. Another American.

The kidnapper must have understood them because he gripped your head and pulled it back, pushing his gun now into the side of your face, making you scream out in pain. You heard a gunshot and suddenly the barrel against your cheek was gone as was the pressure around your head. A loud thud sounded as your captor’s body fell to the ground behind you and you moved your head to a position that didn’t hurt so much.

The two men were suddenly there, the one on the left laying a hand on your shoulder. “Please…don’t hurt me,” you begged in a raspy whisper. You followed it up with the same plea in Spanish, still not sure who you were exactly dealing with as your head swam.

“Hey,” the left soldier spoke softly. “Look at me.”

You did the best you could. It shocked you to see green eyes staring back at you with something that looked like kindness. Kindness…you hadn’t seen that in what felt like forever. Considering you’d only seen hatred and disgust from everyone around you since this whole ordeal started, this was something new and you held onto it with all of your might.

“We’re here to get you out. Just hold on.” He pulled out a switchblade and you immediately gasped and began to shake again. “It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m just cutting the ropes,” he explained gently as he did it. “See?” You carefully moved your head to gaze down, seeing that he was indeed doing as he said.

Once you were free, you began to slide off of the chair, unable to sit up right due to your head still swimming. The movement caused you to cry out in pain from your injured knee being jostled when he caught you and lifted your arm around his shoulders to gently help you back into your original seated position. Your body still shaking, your brain told you that he was telling you the truth and he had just proved it, but you were still terrified and unsure of what to believe — no matter how kind his eyes were. “Shh, you’re safe now. I’m here and I’m going to get you out. I’m guessing they did a number on your legs?” He frowned down at your bloody feet.

“My knee,” you quietly sobbed, the pain still radiating throughout your right leg. “They—they broke it.”

“Shit,” he muttered, studying the leg you had glanced at.

In the background, you noticed the other man grab the smartphone and slip it into his pocket before heading back over in your direction. “What are we doing, man? Grab her and let’s go. Clock’s ticking.”

The man crouched in front of you looked up at the other one. “She can’t walk.” He inclined his head in the direction of your knee. “We’re going to have to carry her out.”

“Fucking hell,” the other one hissed. “Maybe we can get in touch with the chopper and get an evac.”

The man in front of you shook his head. “No, this is supposed to be a quick in and out. We have to get to the extraction point. They’re not coming for us.” So maybe these two were soldiers? They sounded like they might be military. Had your father somehow managed to get the government to send the US military in to rescue you?

“But, there’s no way we can—”

“No time for this, man. We’ve got to move now before reinforcements arrive.” Your rescuer turned back to you. “Alright, listen, I’m not going to lie to you, this is going to hurt like hell. I’m going to try my best to take it easy on you but we have to get you out of here now.”

You shook your head, causing tears to roll down your face. You wouldn’t admit it but you were as scared of the pain as you were to go out into the chaos you still heard happening outside of the room you were in.

He laid his hand on your shoulder again and locked gazes with you. “We have to do this. I told you before. I’m here to get you out and that means I’m not leaving without you.” He very gently rubbed at your shoulder in reassurance. “So, just try to relax and I’ll—” He carefully tried to slip his free hand underneath your legs and gingerly lift them but the movement caused you to scream in pain.

“Okay, okay,” your soldier soothed and backed off.

The other soldier was shaking his head. “We are so fucked.”

“Hey, we’re not.” Your guy turned to give him a sharp look. “Just give me a second with her.”

The other one let out an aggravated sigh and impatiently pointed to his watch before holding his rifle up and leaving the room.

Your soldier glanced back at you. “Okay. Time for some real talk. We’ve got about seventeen minutes to get to the extraction point which is out of this place and up the hill on the north side. Which would be, not exactly a cakewalk because it would still be tough, but if you were able to use your legs and we were running, we’d probably make it there in the next fifteen despite any resistance we might encounter. But, this is—”

“Going to slow you down,” you choked out. “I’m not going to make it.” More tears rolled down your cheeks, stinging when they came into contact with your injuries. If you had to be left behind, you knew you would die. No question about it.

“Hey,” he spoke softer than he had a moment ago. “I told you I’m not leaving here without you and I meant it. So don’t go thinking anything like that.” His eyes narrowed slightly as your head became too heavy to try to hold up. His hand was suddenly behind your neck, helping you, as he visually inspected one of the wounds at your hairline. “Dammit,” you heard him mutter. “Okay, I’m getting you out of here.”

He bent down to scoop you up but you grabbed onto his uniform, gripping a bit of the fabric in your fingers though it hurt to do so. He turned to look at you and you shook your head, whimpering. “Please,” you begged.

He reached up with a gloved hand and gently wiped under your eyes with his thumb. “I’m sorry but I have to. If I don’t…” He didn’t finish that sentence but he didn’t need to; the concern you saw in his green gaze said more than enough, and confirmed what he had already told you. “I know the pain is going to be a bitch and a half, but you’ve got to push through as best you can. I’ll carry you and get you to that chopper, I promise, but I need you to hold on. If you have to cry, scream, hell, even bite down on me, you do whatever you’ve got to do. But we’re doing this and we’re doing it now. You ready?”

“N-No.” Your voice wobbled a little bit but you heard him. You were going to try your best but you were still scared of the impending pain. “I’ll try.”

“Atta girl.” He gently positioned you as close to him as possible, zipping up the pullover that your captors had left open, and then carefully placed his free arm under your legs again. You got ready for the pain and whimpered again when he got ready to lift you. “I promise, after this, we’ll get that knee looked at, and that head injury, as soon as we get you someplace safe. Hey, look at me.” You struggled to meet his eyes but when you did, you saw the kindness from earlier staring back at you. “You’ve got this. You’ve made it this far and you’re going to make it all the way. I’m going to make sure you do.”

“Okay,” you whispered, afraid to speak any louder when the threat of the impending pain. Almost as if you spoke a half a decibel higher, you might make it hurt worse than it already was going to. It didn’t make sense but you weren’t exactly thinking straight right then.

You held onto the outer edge of his vest, wincing at the flare up of pain in your hand, as ready as you could possibly be in that moment.

He gave you another second, a brief respite from what was to come, and then a nod. “Alright, here we go.”

The man slowly lifted you and it hurt, sure, but what really hurt was when gravity did its work when he carefully got to his feet. You couldn’t help but cry out. You immediately stuck your thumb knuckle into your mouth and bit down, hoping this would all be over very soon.

The other soldier appeared in the doorway, having heard your cries. Your soldier took a few steps towards him, forcing you to bite harder into your skin and more tears to roll down your cheeks. “Let’s get moving. Call the bird and let them know we’re on our way.” The man nodded and turned, speaking to someone to let them know you were about to leave the compound and would need backup on the way.

When he turned around and gave you both a nod, your soldier held you a little closer to him. “You take point and lead us out. We’re good.” He then turned a reassuring smile on you. “Aren’t we?”

You wanted to answer him but you couldn’t. He hadn’t even started really moving yet and already the pain was agonizing. Instead, you carefully laid your head on his shoulder, feeling pure exhaustion wash over you that left an even foggier trace behind in your mind.

“Let’s do this.” Your soldier looked back towards the door and began to follow his fellow soldier out of the room. You gasped from the pain, bit into your flesh harder, and ignored the tears spilling onto your face. You weren’t going to be able to hold back the pained cries for long. You had no idea how you weren’t screaming at this point.

As you all turned down a hallway, you couldn’t help but think of the others and that provided a momentary distraction. “What about—my people?” You asked through gritted teeth.

“Already extracted,” he whispered. “Now it’s your turn, Y/N.”

You were still fighting your way through a misty fog of pain and sluggishness but that caught your attention. You released your thumb and stuttered out, “You know my name.”

“Of course I know your name. We came here for you.” He shot you a wink and then proceeded to carefully make his way down the stairs after the way forward was cleared.

You idly wondered about that as you held onto him, noting several dead bodies in your peripherals but refusing to look straight at them. You could hear him huffing and puffing next to you and you felt badly that he had to carry you because you were unable to walk. A couple of times, he had to stop and hunker down with you while the other soldier engaged the remaining kidnappers you came across. The third time, it was a struggle for you but you whispered, “Slowing you down. Not —gonna make it.”

“Shhh, don’t worry about that. I’ve got you,” he murmured back. And sure enough, once it was clear again, you were on the move. Before long, you had met up with more soldiers (the backup that must have been called for) and one of them offered to take you. You involuntarily tightened your grip on your rescuer’s vest and he shook his head. “Thanks, but I’m good.”

Eventually, you made your way out onto the terrain and you could no longer hold back your pained cries. “Almost there,” he promised. After what felt like prolonged agony, you finally reached an area where a helicopter was indeed waiting. The sight of it made something that felt like relief loosen inside your chest. You were really going to make it out of here alive. Your soldier went to hand you off to another inside when your fingers tightened reflexively around him again. “It’s just for a second to let me get in,” he reassured you.

You nodded, hoping it wouldn’t hurt as bad as that run had, and let him go. Once you were all boarded onto the helicopter, you were moved around again until you were back in your soldier’s embrace, holding tightly onto him as the aircraft lifted into the air and headed away from the compound where more gunfire erupted.

You tried to ask him something but he couldn’t hear you so he ducked his head near yours. “Where are my people?” You asked as loudly as you could, taking every little bit of strength you had left. You were still under the fog, but you still noticed your co-workers weren’t in the helicopter with you.

He turned and placed his lips near your ear. “They’re in another chopper!” You had all made it safely out. Thank God.

You nodded and laid your head against his shoulder, completely spent and feeling the throbbing of pain in your body intensify, making you acutely aware of all the rest of your injuries. The pain radiated from your knee outwardly and now you could feel it in your torso, your arms, your head… Your eyes began to close of their own accord when he shook your shoulder a little. “I’m sure all you want to do right now is sleep but I need you to stay awake. At least until the docs get a good look at you!”

You blinked dazedly up at him. “I don’t think I can,” you mumbled, not even sure he heard you. The tide of pain was washing you under.

He then did the last thing you expected. He lifted his mask and you finally saw the man underneath, the owner of those green eyes that you had been holding onto during this entire ordeal.

“Man, what the hell are you doing?” You heard yelled nearby, but your soldier kept his eyes on yours.

“I need you to stay awake, Y/N! You think you can do that for me?”

You took in his features, your fingers carefully lifting up to touch the thick beard he sported, noting the dirt and grime smears all over his face, but his eyes were what captivated you. Now without the mask in the way, you were free to get lost in those green orbs as deeply as you dared. Too bad you couldn’t seem to stay conscious.

He shook you again. “Y/N! Hey! Stay awake!”

“Sorry,” you slurred before everything went black.

The next time you jerked into consciousness, screaming out in pain, the helicopter had just landed and your soldier, once again wearing his face mask, was yelling instructions to the men around him. You couldn’t hear exactly what they were, the pain was that intense. You were lifted out into another soldier’s arms and looking past him, you saw a second helicopter not that far away. You watched as your co-workers were ushered off of it alongside other masked soldiers but something didn’t seem right. You weren’t sure what it was but something was off to you.

You were placed into someone else’s arms and you saw the eyes of your rescuer once again, softening when he saw that you were crying.

“Something’s—wrong.”

“Stay with me this time, Y/N,” he urged as he hurried you away from the helicopter. “Help is just a few feet away! Only a little bit more to go.”

You tried to stay with him, you really did, but the tide of pain started to blanket you once again. Alongside it, the feeling of something’s wrong surged throughout your body before the darkness overtook you once more.

The next time you came to, you were on a gurney and bright lights were shining down on you. Doctors and nurses surrounded you, talking quickly in Spanish and calling out a few instructions. Your body began to involuntarily tremble again. Had your rescue been a dream? Had your kidnappers brought you to another part of the compound where they had an assembled medical team waiting to somehow keep you alive after they had unleashed such brutality on you? Or were you just dead?

You felt a warm hand in yours, a thumb stroking the top of yours reassuringly. You gingerly turned your head to find your soldier, still wearing his mask, standing right there, smiling down at you. “There you are. You had me worried for a second.”

Before you could ask him if he was real, if any of it was, a nurse started yelling at him, trying to get him to leave. He replied in perfect Spanish, telling her in a very resolved tone that he wasn’t leaving until he knew you were going to be okay. She let out a frustrated huff and shot him a glare before turning away to speak to the doctors. They insisted he had to go and once again, without your permission, you tightened your grip on him, not wanting him to go anywhere.

“No,” you rasped out. “Please let him stay. Please.” He was the only thing anchoring you in this moment. You got the distinct feeling that if you lost him, you’d be lost entirely, never to resurface. He was safety for you, an end to the horrific ordeal you had been through, and you didn’t want him to leave you.

A doctor leaned over you, speaking kindly in English. “It’s okay,” he spoke with a heavy accent. “We are going to make you better but he can’t be in here.”

You shook your head and grabbed at your soldier’s forearm with your free hand though it hurt like hell.

“Doc, can you give us a second?”

The doctor gave him a look but did as he asked, moving back over to his team.

The man next to you pulled a chair from out of nowhere and positioned it next to you. He took a seat and only when he had did you release him, wincing as you dropped your right hand next to you.

He smiled reassuringly down at you. “You’re going to be okay. They’re going to fix you right up. You’ve been through a lot but you’re going to be alright.”

You knew what he was doing; he was calming you down and saying goodbye. For some reason, that made you tear up. Even though you didn’t know this man, he had been your harbor of safety in a chaotic whirlwind, a beacon of hope to cling to in a truly terrifying situation you had found yourself in. When a tear rolled down your cheek, he wiped it away with his thumb. “Will you be here when I wake up?” You choked out.

“I’ll be here until you fall asleep.”

That set loose more tears and he made sure to catch every single one. In the meantime, the nurse came over and injected something into your IV. When you started feeling drowsy a minute or so later, it wasn’t hard to guess what was happening. “Will I ever see you again?” You frantically intertwined your fingers with his as you struggled to stay awake.

He leaned closer, smiling in the same reassurance his green eyes were trying to convey. “I’ll find you,” he murmured, gently squeezing your hand. That made even more tears fall. It surprised you when he moved in to whisper to you, “Get some rest, sweetheart. You’ve more than earned it.”

You wanted to stay awake; you fought it, not wanting to lose sight of those green eyes fixated on you, knowing they would be gone once you closed yours. But you lost that battle as a sea of sleepiness dragged you down with it. You held onto his words as your eyes finally shut from the weight of the drug and you could no longer see him or feel his hand in yours. “I’ll find you” reverberated through your mind as you sank deeper and deeper into oblivion, falling at a rapid rate from deep green into solid black, until you were completely engulfed by it and you were gone.

You briefly closed your eyes as you felt a cool breeze gently make its way past you. You watched as two orange leaves pirouetted in the air, spinning round and round, until they landed several feet away. Silent ripples danced along the water’s surface in front of you and you could hear the sounds of people milling about near you, talking, surrounded by a symphony of nature sounds mixed in with the faroff noises of city life. You couldn’t help but smile when you heard small children giggling as they played on the grass nearby with their parents watching over them. You watched as a small group of teenage girls walked past you, laughing as they reminisced over something that had happened the past weekend. You saw an old man on another bench further down the path, an open book in his hands.

These were the small peaceful moments that you had come to appreciate since you rejoined society a couple of months ago. These were the ones you held onto when the memories of the terror and pain all became a bit too much, that reminded you that you were back home, safe.

You watched as two moms in workout gear jogged by with their strollers. A man and woman coming from the opposite direction made their way around the two women and continued their trek, drinking from to-go cups and dressed in business casual attire. Sure enough, you could hear them discussing work-related topics as they passed you by. You smiled sadly as you watched them get further and further from your sight.

That had been you not that long ago, where you didn’t have a care in the world other than pushing out new product lines and being in charge of one of the main offices of the family business. The pressure had been near soul-crushing most of the time but you had adapted for the most part and rolled with it. You worked hard, you worked long hours, and you were alright with that. You took the stress of hectic deadlines and constantly putting out fires and you rolled with the punches. It became part of your make-up and it could only help fuel you even faster towards your goal — your father’s goal. Now, after what you’d been through, your outlook on it all had changed. What had felt like life and death matters in the corporate world before no longer felt as dire as it used to. You’d been in a literal life and death situation and lived to tell the tale; whatever came your way business wise you knew you could more than handle. There was something about being tortured and having a gun held to your head, convinced you were about to die, that just put things into perspective for you.

And though you survived, you didn’t actually get to tell your tale. The minute you were reunited with your father, while he had been grateful you were alive and kissed your forehead, it was made clear to you that you and the co-workers who had been in captivity with you were to sign NDA’s. That had completely floored you. That was the Board’s main concern? That the public might find out that some of its employees had been kidnapped, terrorized, and tortured? How were they going to explain your month long absence from the job, from your lives? You knew Meredith had a fiance, Pat was a grandmother, Rob had just gotten married weeks before this happened, and Tim had a wife and kids waiting back at home for him. Suzanne was dating someone in HR and you could have sworn you heard Jerry mention at some point that he had a dog to get back to, hoping his neighbor had either checked in on it or at least notified someone to do so. How in the world did the Board plan to explain away any of it?

Your father had let out an aggravated sigh as you fired question after question at him. Who had taken you? What had they wanted besides money? Why hadn’t the Board met their demands? Why had it taken them so long to get the government involved?

“They weren’t involved.”

Your eyes had widened in shock. “What? How?”

Your father had taken your hand in between his and stared into your eyes with meaning. “I’m only going to mention this once and then we’re never going to speak of it again. We hired someone to send in a team to get you out of there.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “Hired someone? As in mercenaries?”

“Private contractors for security. They handle this type of situation quite frequently but they keep it all very hush hush. So that is why the Board is insisting on NDA’s for all of you. It’s not only to protect the brand but also to protect all of you.”

“Protect this organization they hired, you mean.”

Your father nodded, not looking troubled by your accusation in the least.

“I don’t understand, Dad. You have contacts in Defense. Why wouldn’t you call them?”

“We did. They recommended these people and said they were our best option. If we hired them, they could get in quickly and get you out. If we didn’t and chose to go through more official channels, it might prolong the process and that might be time that you didn’t have.”

You could see the wisdom in that advice he’d been given. They had been right; had they gotten there even just an hour later than they did, you might not be alive right now. “But a month, Dad? Why did they wait so long?”

Your father tightened his grip on your hand and you knew you weren’t going to like what he had to say next. “At first, we didn’t know who had taken you. When they made contact…the Board wanted to try negotiating with them first.”

You huffed out a breath in disbelief. Those sons of bitches…

“I pushed for them to do something more drastic but they fought me every step of the way. It wasn’t until they received that first video message that they finally agreed that I should make the call.”

So your father had fought for you, but to a point. That fact rolled around in your brain for a moment. Had your roles been reversed, you would have told the Board to go screw themselves and immediately contacted whoever could rescue your father as soon as possible. No amount of money, litigation threats, or risk to the business would have stopped you. You, his only child, his only surviving family member, had been in mortal danger, and he hadn’t done everything he could to secure your safe return home as soon as possible? It was hard to wrap your mind around that. Then his last words finally registered. “Wait, what video message?”

His blue eyes softened with sympathy then and you could swear you could see a little bit of pain beginning to cloud them. “Where you were tortured.”

You should have known. Why else would your kidnappers have filmed it? Truthfully, you had known it back when they were hurting you. You shouldn’t be surprised, but you also didn’t want to talk about it. “You mean the pictures weren’t enough to convince them?” Before that first night, your kidnappers had forced you and your co-workers to look up at them as they snapped photos of you on their phones. You knew then that they were either using it as a scare tactic for your father and the Board or they were providing proof of life. Either way, it hadn’t mattered in the end since obviously the kidnappers had kicked it up a notch after that.

A haunted look fleeted across your father’s tired face. While you may still be struggling with the idea that he hadn’t done everything you would have done in his place, you knew this had taken a toll on him. He had been genuinely concerned for you and the relief you’d seen on his expression when he saw you for the first time since you’d been separated was palpable. “When they saw the video, they could no longer pretend that this was something they could simply deal their way out of.”

Your brows drew together as you studied him. You were sure it had been hard for them to see what had happened to you, to hear your cries, your screams, your pained whimpers. You knew it must have been even more difficult for your father to see. But somehow you got the distinct impression that’s not what he was referring to. “Dad.” He glanced up at you and sure enough, you could tell he was keeping something from you. “Tell me.”

He grasped your hand tightly once more. This was definitely not going to be good. “It was bad enough to see what they did to you…but the end of the video was what convinced them.” At your knitted brow, he elaborated, “They pulled Tim out of the room they were keeping you all in, brought him somewhere, and then killed him.”

Your eyes widened and your heart stopped. What?

“And they said if they didn’t get what they wanted in three days, you were next.”

Your heart started up again and began to pound in your chest. You felt like you were falling with no end in sight. Tim was…dead? Your breathing sped up into short pants and you could hear beeping from a machine you were connected to but it sounded so far away.

You had blocked out some of that experience, your brain subconsciously trying to protect you perhaps, you weren’t sure. And whatever memories stayed, each time they started to flash in your mind, you would close your eyes and grab hold of your safe harbor in those turbulent waves of trauma that tried to overtake you. You would think of green and while the images didn’t exactly disappear, it kept them at a safe distance. Well, while you were awake at least. The nightmares you experienced were something else entirely.

But this…nothing could protect you from this. You suddenly remembered being locked in that bedroom, hearing the yelling, the gunshot—oh God, the gunshot. You had heard the moment they— Your father urged you to calm down, rubbing your hand comfortingly, but you couldn’t hear him or even when a nurse rushed into the room to ask what was going on. Because at that precise moment, a memory came back to you, ripping your tight grip on your green harbor and tossing you back into the dark ocean of trauma and pain to drown in.

It had been right before you’d passed out the second time. While your soldier had gotten out of the helicopter, you had glanced over to see the other helicopter that your people were disembarking from. At the time, you had been so out of it due to the pain and disorientation you had been feeling that you didn’t realize the number of people you should have been seeing was one short. You didn’t even seem to process the black bag two soldiers removed from the aircraft and carried off the tarmac together. You just knew something was wrong, something you had tried to tell your soldier before you passed out again. But now you knew exactly what you had seen.

Tim. Tim had been with you since you started in the New York office; he preceded you actually. Even though your father had chosen him to accompany you and the others, all you could remember was the nice man who had smiled and said hello as he walked into the office; the man who was quiet and reserved but also a hard worker; who had offered you his jacket to cover up with; the man who had begged the kidnappers for the photos of his kids from his wallet that they had taken and then denied him; the man who talked about his family and proudly told you all about his children. His daughter, Riley, was eight and she had recently taken up soccer. Before you’d left for Bogota, she had told him that her coach wanted her to try the goalie position but she was scared; she didn’t want balls flying at her head. You couldn’t blame her on that one and had said as much. You remembered all too well the sports you had been made to join growing up and it had never really been your thing, but it made your father happy so you did it each time he urged you to sign up or try out. Tim’s son, David, was nearly six and he had just graduated kindergarten. And the baby, Olivia, could be quite the handful since she was a very rambunctious toddler who never seemed to run out of energy, but his wife, Angela, lived up to her name and couldn’t be happier with their current family setup. And now… Now, he would never get to see any of them ever again.

The pained wail that met your ears caught you off guard until you realized it was coming from you. Tim was a good man and he had managed to make a life outside of work. He had something you had never let yourself dream about having since it would inevitably get in the way of your successful climbing of the corporate ladder. Now, he would never get to see his kids grow up, go to any more of Riley’s soccer games to encourage her, go on any more date nights with his wife — none of it. You had the horrible thought for a moment that it should have been you in that bag instead. It nearly had been you.

Your father held onto you as you wept, as the nurse rubbed your back from the opposite side of the bed, crooning soft reassurances to you and urging you to try to calm down. But nothing could reassure you; you were here and Tim was not. A cold hard fact that you could do nothing to change. Even worse, you had missed his funeral since you were stuck in the hospital you had been transferred to once you were flown from the one you had briefly ended up in down in Colombia. You hadn’t even known about his death until this moment, your suddenly resurfaced traumatic memories aside.

Since that day, the memory of that single gunshot had tormented you. Had Tim known it was coming? Did he think about Angela and the kids right then? Had he prayed they would be okay without him? How terrified must he have been? You knew how scared you were in that bedroom, how fearful you had been during your second round of torture, sensing that this wasn’t going to end with the doctor treating you as it had the last time (which had now been confirmed that your instinct had been spot on). You could only imagine how he must have felt in that final moment.

The nightmares proceeded to get even worse and you were afraid to be left alone in your hospital room. Though your father and the medical staff had assured you that you were safe, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you weren’t, no matter how irrational you knew you were being. Eventually, your assistant Luna started working remotely from your room to keep you company and your father had hired two full-time bodyguards to watch over you: Owen during the day and Simon at night. When the nightmares became practically unbearable, that rotation switched. For some reason, you felt safer with Owen there. Perhaps it had to do with his look, specifically his salt and pepper beard…you briefly remembered the feeling of a beard underneath your bloody fingertips though you couldn’t place the face it belonged to. You had a feeling it was connected to the green you remembered, that you clung to in the tumultuous sea of mayhem that was the night you were marked to die — the green that you associated with your rescuer. Why you couldn’t recall his face, you had no idea, but you chalked it up to your brain once again trying to make sense of the chaos that reigned inside your head.

Green continued to symbolize safety and reassurance for you. So much so that when Luna brought a bag of clothes for you to change into for your beginning rehab sessions, you immediately picked out an olive green hoodie she had selected from your closet and set it aside. You took to holding it close as you slept, letting the scent of home attached to it wash over you as you closed your eyes. When you would wake from your nightmares, sometimes gasping for air that wouldn’t come, sometimes crying, or sometimes screaming, you would see the hoodie next to you and grab it, holding it close until you could either breathe again or calm back down. It became a source of comfort for you and long remained that even after you were discharged.

Your doctor had recommended therapy in addition to the outpatient rehab you would be continuing but truth be told, you weren’t in a rush to relive anything or even unearth something that might somehow be worse than what you already remembered. Your father had also dismissed the idea of therapy, saying that focusing on regaining your ability to walk without the assistance of crutches would help, as well as getting back to concentrating on work. You didn’t agree, you knew better, but you also allowed his view to become your excuse, solidifying your refusal to deal with the trauma you had suffered. After all, you were still here, still breathing — as long as you kept reminding yourself of that, you would be fine.

So you did as your father insisted: you focused on your physical therapy and you slowly found your way back to working full-time. You had graduated from crutches to a cane. Your doctor said your knee was healing nicely and right on schedule, which made you glad that you had listened to him and not your father’s initial suggestion of a knee replacement. You still felt a twinge of discomfort and a whispery echo of pain when walking so you relied more heavily on the cane than your doctor or physical therapist might have liked. You may not have remembered everything from your ordeal, but the pain of the initial impact of the bat and afterwards as you were carried to a waiting helicopter to take you to safety was still a very recent and clear memory for you. You doubted you would ever forget it as long as you lived.

Eventually, you returned to your office and you accepted the well wishes all around. You had no idea what they had been told about your obvious injury or what had caused it but thankfully, no one questioned you. You had been in brief touch with Meredith and the others in the days after your initial surgery back in Colombia but not since then. You had been so focused on your recovery and processing the news of Tim’s death that, truthfully, you hadn’t thought of much else. Even though Luna had been working from your hospital room for a time and she kept you apprised on all developments as well as anything that required your attention, you knew your father had instructed her to keep it all to a strictly need-to-know basis until you were finally ready to fully take up the mantle again. And because you were already dealing with more than enough, you allowed it and didn’t push for more than she told you. So the guilt consumed you when you were informed that Suzanne had resigned and Pat had taken an early retirement to be able to spend more time with her kids and grandkids. Rob had taken a position at another company, though Jerry and Meredith were still there. However, Meredith worked remotely most days, something she had worked out with your father while you had been out. You wondered if it might have been a result of Meredith initially refusing to sign the NDA, a sort of compromise to get her to agree to keeping your ordeal under wraps. You made a mental note to reach out to all of them so you could at least check in to see how they were doing. Jerry was in Research; you’d stop by there later.

As tough as all of that had been to learn and stepping back into the swing of things proved to be a little more complicated than you thought it would be, the most difficult moment had been when you went up to Design. Seeing Tim’s office not being Tim’s anymore had left you reeling. Your father moved fast and had hired his replacement within days. From a professional perspective, you more than understood; the business still had to run after all and Design was one of your most crucial departments. But knowing it and seeing it were two different things. The nightmares were particularly brutal that night. You kept hearing the gunshot, kept seeing one of the kidnappers with their cell phone look over at you afterwards and give you the most terrifying smile. Even the hoodie hadn’t helped. When you looked at it, you didn’t see green anymore but red. A very bold and wet shade of dark red. You tossed it away from you and screamed, bursting into sobs as you rocked yourself back and forth in a soothing motion.

You had immediately called out sick the next morning and spent the rest of the day in bed, alternating between crying and staring blankly at the TV on the wall. Later on, when you could think clearly again, you gave yourself a stern talking to. You were here, alive, and you had hundreds of people looking to you to lead them. You refused to dishonor Tim’s memory by hiding away in your apartment for the rest of your life, no matter how appealing the option might feel. You could hear your father’s voice in your head again, pushing you, telling you to get back up and go to work, to be the best you could be.

And sure enough, you heard his voice for real the next day when he walked into your office. “What is he doing here?”

You glanced up and looked over where he was pointing to see Owen sitting in one of the chairs off to the side, watching you both. You pressed your lips together and shut the portfolio in front of you. “His name’s Owen, Dad. You know that. And he’s here because I asked him to be.”

Your father looked quite displeased with that. “I dismissed him and the other one last week. We talked about this.”

You let out a quiet sigh and sat back in your chair. “I know but—”

“It’s not a good look and it certainly isn’t good for morale. The cane you still insist on unnecessarily using is bad enough. Do you think people around here aren’t asking themselves or each other why you have this man sitting in your office, watching your every move?”

You leaned forward and lowered your voice. “Dad, I get that. I do, but I need—”

“Is this why you called out sick yesterday?” You briefly dropped your gaze to your desk. You didn’t really want to talk about that or how despondent you’d been in your bed for hours until your alarm went off, jolting you into grabbing your phone and making the call. Your father’s eyes softened though his tone didn’t. “Honey, what you need is to dismiss him, permanently, and get back to your life, to your work. Don’t forget, you’re at the helm of this ship and everyone’s looking to you to navigate it seamlessly through the waters.”

Your jaw clenched and for the first time in your life, you were about to draw a line in the sand between what he was telling you to do and what you knew you needed to do. “I’m aware of that and I can’t steer the ship unless I feel safe. Owen here,” you nodded in the man’s direction. “Makes me feel safe. With him present, I can focus and get the job done. So, Owen is staying until I say otherwise.”

Your father’s own jaw tightened. “I’m not paying for more—”

“You’re not. I am. And believe it or not, while I’m doing what’s right for me, I’m also doing what’s right for this office, to ensure our complete success. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some reports from Research to review.” You slipped your eyeglasses back on and reopened the portfolio in front of you, scanning the contents.

You glanced up when your father stepped closer to your desk, his voice lower than before though his now angry gaze burned into you. You should have known by dismissing him in that manner after standing your ground, what it would do. “I’m going to strongly suggest that you finish up with Research and take your lunch out of the office. Perhaps outside. It’s a beautiful day and a dose of fresh air might just be what you need.” He gave you a curt nod and then swiftly left the room. Once he was gone, your shoulders deflated and you slumped back into your chair. You knew your father loved you and he only wanted the best for you, for you to succeed, but sometimes you couldn’t help but wonder if it ever came down to the choice of you or the business, who would he choose? He already chose. You blinked the rapidly forming tears in your eyes away at the thought that had popped into your head out of nowhere and carefully got to your feet, reaching for your cane.

“Owen,” Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him immediately stand at attention. “I think we’re going to take my father’s advice. He’s right. It is a beautiful day and I would like to take full advantage of it.” He moved towards you, watching as you moved to the corner and slipped on your light coat. “I’d prefer to be anywhere that isn’t here,” you mumbled, grabbing your handbag.

You carefully made your way across your office with Owen following right behind you, ready to assist if need be while also keeping an eye out. You called out to your assistant as you passed her by, “Luna, I’m going out for lunch today. Please hold all calls until I return.”

“Of course, Ms. Y/L/N. If Research calls while you’re out, is there anything you would like me to tell them?”

You thought it over for a moment before turning towards the elevators. “Tell them I’m still working on it. Thank you.” And for the first time since you’d started in this company, you left without getting the job done. The thought didn’t sit well with you, you had always been conditioned to complete all of the tasks set out before you, no matter how late you might have to stay to complete them. But at the same time, it oddly made you smile a little.

So here you were, in Central Park on a gorgeous fall day, having taken your father’s advice to heart. You took every single one of your lunches outdoors now unless it was raining or too cold to sit outside for long. You always marveled at the fact that you had lived in New York City for close to two years and you had never once taken the time to stop and notice what surrounded you on a daily basis. You had never taken in the present moment, never taken an opportunity just to be, to sit quietly and listen. The bench you were on by the lake had quickly become one of your favorite spots. You could relax and indulge in the art of people watching, take in all of the sounds, sights, and smells around you. Truth be told, it was the best part of your day.

Owen stood sentry not too far from you, giving you enough space but also ready to intervene at any moment should he be needed. Despite sitting in a park in the middle of one of the most crime-ridden cities in the country, you felt beyond safe. Owen would never let anything happen to you and being in public, around people living their everyday lives…you felt the safest you had in a long time. A feeling you ended up trying to replicate by looking up Central Park ambience videos on YouTube and playing them while you fell asleep though it didn’t always manage to keep the nightmares away. But you expected that; trauma could be a real stubborn pain in the ass.

But right now, sitting here like this, you were okay. That is, until someone decided to sit down on the opposite side of the bench you were on. All of the times you had sat in this spot, you had been left alone, free to claim this bench as your own for the hour or so you’d spend here. Now, someone appeared not to have gotten the unofficial memo. Out of your peripherals, you saw Owen quickly approaching, most likely intending to tell the stranger to move to another bench, when the person glanced back at him, holding a hand up.

“Relax, man. I appreciate you looking out but I’m not here to hurt her, alright? I’m just here to talk.” The second you heard the voice, your gaze snapped over to the man across from you. You immediately recognized it; it was one you’d heard in your nightmares over and over, telling you to stay with him as you desperately clung to his hand until the kidnappers snatched you away. Was it even possible or were you just imagining this man had spoken to Owen with that voice?

When the man turned back to look at you, you recognized the green eyes immediately and a small lump began to form in your throat. Sure enough, he had a beard, one that looked startlingly familiar when you warily prodded at the memory, trying to recall it. A flash of his face, dirtier than it appeared now, popped into your mind. As if it had been patiently waiting all of this time for you to simply reach out and grab a hold of it. Tears began to burn in the corner of your eyes; it was him.

“It’s you,” you choked out in a whisper without really meaning to.

The smile you faintly remembered graced his face. “It’s me,” he confirmed.

You stared at him, truly dumbfounded. “How?”

“I told you I’d find you.”

You nearly started crying when the familiar words floated up from your subconscious, the phrase you had somehow forgotten in the midst of everything. But you remembered it now, as clearly and vividly as the man sitting before you who had said it. You had been about to pass out in the makeshift surgical room, crying and holding onto him tightly, afraid to let him go. “Will I ever see you again?” “I’ll find you.”

“I made you a promise and I intended on keeping it.” His green eyes softened slightly, much as they had all of those months ago as he caught every single tear that rolled down your cheeks as you succumbed to the drug beginning to course through your system. “I’ll find you.”

And find you he did.

A little preview of the next installment:

Still sensing your discomfort, Russell immediately lifted up and peeled his shirt off, revealing his bare skin to you for the first time. Immediately, you noticed a small bandage wrapped around his left arm. “What happened?” You gasped, sitting up and gingerly running your fingers below the bandage line. He shrugged and looked down at it. “Got shot on a job.” Your jaw dropped and when he glanced back up at you, he must have seen the worry that was consuming you because he immediately chuckled and affectionately cupped your chin. “I’m okay. Besides, that’s not what I wanted to show you.” He took your hand in his and moved it to his other shoulder, guiding your fingertips over skin that was jagged, puckered slightly, and silver-looking. “Shot.” He then moved your hands down his side until it reached a decent sized line that was anything but smooth. “Stabbed.” Your hands moved again to right above his abdomen. “Cut.” They moved once more and ended up on his clavicle. “Cut from an attempted stab.” You winced as he mentioned each injury he had received; they had all been the result of violent means. He moved your hands up to the upper tip of his right ear. “Bullet graze.” There was no scar there to speak of but you could see the tiniest bit of difference between his ears in that area when you looked closely. He finally brought your hand to rest over his heart, holding it there. “Sofia.” Your brows furrowed in confusion and he smirked over at you. “Cute little waitress in Costa Rica. Gave me one hell of a weekend and then left me high and dry for some young British guy who showed up at the beach and hadn’t yet run out of money.” You scoffed and yanked your hand from underneath his, making him laugh, as you crossed your arms. He moved closer to you, cupping your cheeks and staring into your eyes. “I’m kidding about that last part. The rest, I’m not. I’ve got plenty more on my back and even a few on my legs. A couple more on my arms. We all have scars. They’re just reminders of battles we’ve fought and survived. Don’t be ashamed of yours.” A tear escaped and rolled down your cheek but his thumb caught it. He pressed his forehead against yours and murmured, “You’re beautiful.” When he looked at you like this, spoke softly to you like this, you genuinely believed him.

A/N: Coming soon. Please let me know if you would like to be tagged for Part 2.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

#russell shaw x reader #russell shaw x female reader #russell shaw x y/n #russell shaw fanfiction #you're safe now i'm here part 1 #thebiggerbear writes

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junedenim · 3 months ago

Text

your velveteen suit

part one part two part three

if you've fucked him, might as well do it on your terms

warnings: smut, p in v, fingering, begging, fine dining, pie for dessert, squirting, oh, and a little angsty

word count: 4.2k

You're wearing pigtails in your hair. Two barely there braids, unraveling at their center. It's the cutest fucking thing he's ever seen. He's supposed to be reading these reports but you're in the kitchen, wearing his old university hoodie, and it's the cutest fucking thing he's ever seen. You're the cutest fucking thing he's ever seen.

You've made a mess of the kitchen. You bang the rolling pin and the flour scatters more, puffs of dust shooting up in the air. You're making Christmas cookies, well, attempting it. Since you're not going home for Christmas this year and despite the whole office getting a holiday break, Alex will be working through it, you want a taste of Christmas. So, you want Christmas cookies.

"Do you have any cookie cutters?" You turn around and ask, flour smeared on your cheek.

He's smiling, can't help but fucking smile. He shakes his head.

You frown. "Should've thought of that before making the dough."

"Do you want to go out and get some?" He asks.

You sigh, "No, I'll get creative." You proceed to take out a knife from the block and work away on your sketches.

And he lets you work and even manages to get a couple of peeks down at those reports of his. But then you put them in the oven and exhale a sound of relief.

"C'mere." He motions for you to come over to him sitting at the table.

You drag your feet across the floor and he grabs your hand, sitting you on his lap. He starts kissing your neck, moving all around the column with little care in the world. "Alex, you whine, pushing his mouth off of you.

"You want to do something special?" His smile is mischievous and his grip on you grows tighter.

You roll your eyes. "I am not doing a sex tape, Alex."

He chuckles. It was brought up once, about a week ago, and he said as a serious suggestion for his Christmas present but when you got mad and ranted about how violating it was, he claimed it was a joke. "No. I'm talking about doing something special for the holidays since it'll be just you and me."

"Who says that?"

"Because your gift to me is a little getaway trip."

"I thought you had to work."

"I can get a weekend away. We could stay here too. Doesn't matter as long as I get to fuck your brains out the whole weekend."

You gag, "Yuck." You stand up from his lap, tugging out of his tight hold. "You're so vulgar."

His hands turn your body around to face him. He peers up at you through tempting eyes. "I thought that's what you like about me."

You bend down and kiss the tip of his nose. "I'm going to go make the icing."

As you walk away, he slaps your ass making you screech. "You can do that later," he argues.

"We can do whatever you want to do later too. I thought you had all this work to do that's why you couldn't help me make the cookies."

Alex stands from the table, walking over to you. "No, I'm a terrible cook, that's why I couldn't help you with the cookies." He leans forward on you, trapping you in a cage with his arms against the counter.

"Excuses, excuses," you click your tongue.

He moves closer, you can feel his hot breath on you, coating all over you. He's intoxicating. "You calling me a liar." He's right up against your ear, whispering, leaning closer, kissing just behind your ear.

"I have to watch the cookies," I argue.

"I like them a little burnt," he mutters into your neck.

You don't put up a fight, instead chastising him, "Alex."

"Don't act like you don't want it." His voice is low, husky, and treacherous.

But you give in, letting Alex crowd into your space, pushing a thigh between your legs. He yanks the hoodie off, bending down and tonguing your nipple and you gasp louder. "Fuck, Al."

"I want to bend you over that counter." Alex pulls you forcefully towards him turning you around and shoving you down onto the kitchen counter.

Your breasts feel the chill of the counter and turn your head back, biting your lip. "What about what I want?" You tease.

Alex shakes his head. "You want this." He reaches his thumb out, pulling your bottom lip from your teeth. "Don't you?" His hand drags its way down your spine, reaching your ass, clad in his boxers. "Say you want it." He squeezes a cheek tightly and he knows just what makes you break and what makes you bend, and he's fully intent on getting his way.

You make eye contact with him and his gaze burrows itself into you. "I want it."

"What? What do you want?"

You look at him and he's gotten a little flour on his chin. You reach back, twisting yourself to grab his chin and wipe the spot away. His skin is soft and he's soft and it's insane how gentle he seems when he's being so rough. He grabs your hand before you can take it back and he kisses the back of it. It's a blessed passion. He releases your hand delicately. "Well, aren't you going to fuck me?" You finally answer.

He slips right back into his role. "That's what you want, huh?"

"Yeah," you say cheerfully. "I want you to fuck the shit out of me."

Alex seems overcome by this. He pushes your head down to prevent you from moving so much. You follow orders for now and keep it there as he pulls down the boxers, exposing you. He runs his fingers through you and doesn't bother with much more after he feels the wetness of you. He murmurs, "Fuck."

You hear his belt come undone and the cold metal of the buckle touches your right ass cheek as he pulls his pants down. He moves your hips, sticking your ass out more, his touch making you shiver. He slaps your ass, more purposefully than when he lightly did it earlier. It makes you jump and you'd ask him to do it again if it didn't make power go to his head and threaten your cookies getting burnt.

Alex gave his hard cock a few quick strokes. "Do you know how hot you look right now?"

You meet his eyes and smile at him as you continue to stroke his cock. This seems to move something in him as he moans and moves his hand quicker. "Are you going to put that thing in me?"

He hits the bottom of your butt cheek. "You want to beg for it now?"

You put your head down silently, not saying a word. But then you have to suck a breath in when he touches your clit, rubbing it lightly, reverently even. Alex knows just the right moves to make and it would be infuriating how well he knew how you moved now if it didn't bring you so much pleasure. And, then his mouth is on you, traveling up and down, purposefully avoiding your clit like he gave you a taste of pleasure just to dangle it in front of you for the rest of time.

Alex then has his tongue buried deep inside of you. It moved over the entrance and all around your insides, making you squirm and pant and gasp and moan. You're writhing and pushing against his tongue and you can practically feel him smirk into you. The warmth of his mouth leaves you. You want to whine but you know how cocky he'll be so you bite it back, and lay her head down into your hand.

He stands up and moves his hand over your ass, feeling your soft skin again. He lines himself up with your center slowly. The first push is overwhelming. You're desperate for more contact and although you're not begging, Alex can feel your body beg. He is taking his sweet time.

The push was slow and torturous. Alex's grip tightens on your hips as he pushes in, enough to let a bruise make a memory of this. You clench around him and he gasps and leans forward, pushing further into you impossibly fast. "Fuck," you both moan and groan.

Alex rolls his hips languidly and dirty at first, teasing and coaxing you to move your own. You push back on him, creating pressure pulling him in deeper, harder. Your eyes roll back when he suddenly snaps his hips once and pure, unadulterated pleasure shoots through you.

Alex leans down, his clothed chest rubbing against your bare back. He asks in your ear, "You really like that, huh?" Your bodies move back and forth in a way that could make your skin chafe.

His thrusts became harder and faster with each passing minute. You can't help but emit dirty moans and curses.

Alex pushes you down onto the counter to prevent your erratic movement. "God, you're so hot like this. Everyone must want to fuck you all the time, right? But they don't get to."

"Only you do," you answer before he even asks because you're desperate and so close and he's so fucking hot too and only you get to fuck him.

"Fuck," he groans at your response. He gives his hips a sharp snap. "Do you know what that does to me? What you do? Fuck!" His thrusts become more rushed and rough as everything closes in.

"I'm coming," you tell him as you feel the stirring at the pit of your stomach reach a boiling point.

Alex moves hard. "Me too. Yeah."

You wrap tightly around him, closing in on his cock. You cry out a moan as you clamp like a vise around Alex. He shoves himself deep in you, wrapping his arms around your waist, tugging himself deep into you as he comes. You feel him, all around, in you. His hand lands on the arch of your back and his hair tickles you. You don't want him to move and he doesn't want to move so you stand like that with him buried in you. Then, the oven timer goes off.

"Shit, don't move," Alex begs.

"The beeping is annoying," you complain.

He removes one of his arms and reaches over as far as he can to shut it off before returning to his old position. It's quiet and peaceful. The room smells of sweat, sex, cookies, and him and it might be your favourite scent ever.

"Fuck," he groans. You can feel his nose nudge up against you. "How do people ever get any work done? Did your past partners get fired from their jobs because they didn't show up at work to fuck you all day?"

You giggle. "Not that I'm aware of."

"What fucking idiots?"

He packs 2 sugar cookies into his lunch and stares at them for a while. You chuckle at him in the office kitchen, pouring yourself a cup of tea. "They're not that special," you tell him.

The cheery snowman smiles at him and the sloppy snowflake you attempted is his favourite color. "I can admire them," he tells you. He doesn't want to eat but then again it's a cookie and he already had a few the night before and they're really fucking good.

"I think you can afford to eat a couple, boss," Gunner comments as he walks in, slapping the tops of Alex's shoulders.

Alex's brows furrow as Gunner walks over to the fridge. "Huh?"

"You know," Gunner's voice shakes, "like you're a fit guy. I-I mean, you're in good shape for someone your age."

You giggle into your tea. Gunner is sweating bullets and Alex's face is contoured to mess with him. Alex stands from the table. "Think I'll eat the rest of my lunch in my office."

When Alex leaves, Gunner lets out a deep breath. "That guy scares the shit out of me."

"He's just messing with you," you reassure Gunner as you take a sip.

Gunner sighs. "He probably thinks I was coming onto him or something."

You laugh and leave Gunner to his paranoia, heading toward Alex's office. He's taken a bite out of the snowman, now headless. "Lock the door," he tells you.

He's cheery but not flirtatious. You squint your eyes but comply. "Why?"

"'Cause I want to talk to ya. Come here." He taps the edge of his desk so you walk over to his side of the desk. He takes you off guard and pushes you up so you're sitting on his desk, atop one of his reports. He grabs your hanging legs and places them on his thighs, your kitten heels pressed down on his trousers.

"I'm not having sex in here."

Alex sighs and leans back in his chair. His hand moves up and down your leg, going from your ankle joint to under the first inch of your skirt. "Yeah, yeah. I have a question for you."

He grabs your waist and pulls you forward. "Yes?"

Instead, he kisses you. You can taste the sugar from the icing on his lips and he can taste the honey from your tea on yours. It's impassioned and soft, you half expect rose petals to fall from the sky.

You pull away with a smack of your lips, leaning back on the palms of your hands. "You had a question, mister."

He taps your kneecap. "Okay. Well, I was thinking that maybe we could go to the office's Christmas party."

Something catches in your throat. "Like...together?"

"Yeah." He's not making eye contact. He's staring at your shoes and pulling with the straps on the left one.

"No."

"Okay." His eyes don't look up and he drops your feet, nearly making you fall off the desk.

You stand up straight, steadying yourself. "What did you think I would say?"

"Whatever, just forget it." He acts like a brooding teenager. His arms are crossed and he refuses any chance at looking him directly.

This whole thing is out of the blue, to say the least. "I can't—I can't do that. You know that."

"Yeah, yeah." He's calm, rising from his chair. "I don't know what I was thinking."

"It's fine and it's a lovely thought but I thought we talked about this."

He walks over toward the door and you think he's leaving. "Yeah. Understood." But he opens the door and holds it, gesturing for you to walk out.

Your eyes widen. "You're serious?"

He gestures again.

You're irritated by him. The way his hair falls, his suit fits, and his eyes bore into you. You don't have anything to say, so you leave, arms crossed, and shoes clicking, your left one slightly unbuckled.

You don't go over to his house that night and he doesn't go to your flat. You avoid each other the next day at work, which is easy, you just spend all day in your cubicle and he doesn't leave his office.

The office's Christmas party is a different story. You show up late due to traffic and he seems to be several drinks in already. He's dressed like he just came from work, which in all likelihood he did.

He's talking to Elizabeth, nodding along to whatever she's saying but his eyes are stuck on you, dressed in red silk that more would say resembles the devil than Christmas. Your eyes are stuck on looking at anything but him.

You partake in the free appetizers and stand by the bar, fiddling with a drink so it looks like you're busy. Or busy waiting. He finds you there, maybe because he wants another drink or maybe because he wants you. It's silence and he waits for his scotch to be refilled.

You allow your gaze to fall on him and his eyes steady on the bottles of liquor on the other side of the bar. "You look nice," you say, an olive branch.

Alex clears his throat and rubs his nose. "Thanks." The crackles of Christmas music pass through and you fiddle with the lime on the edge of your glass. He looks over at your downcast eyes. "You look pretty too. Beautiful."

It still makes you blush, even after the childish fight, he shoots right through you. "Thanks."

He sighs heavily and leans down on the bar, rubbing his face. "I'm sorry about the other day. I just got in my own head."

"It's okay," you absolve.

He shakes his head. "I don't know why, I'm just sensitive about that kind of stuff."

"Rejection?"

"I guess."

You nod. "I can tell."

"How?" He's eager to know.

You turn to face him more clearly and he sits down on the barstool next to you. "You're a people pleaser. You're working through the holiday so Ed can take off and you overcompensate for so much because you live in fear that one day he'll turn you away and all your hard work will be for nothing."

He looks down at himself as if he's trying to examine his body. "I suppose." He sips from his glass.

"And," you exhale, "I'm not an idiot I remember when you used to come to these things with her." Her that you don't ever talk about her but sometimes Alex will be telling a story and he'll hit a point where she's involved and he tries to work his way around it without mentioning her.

"That's not what the other day was about," he insists.

You shrug. "Maybe, but you were bent out of shape at the idea you'd come to this alone."

He shakes his head and crosses his brows. "No. I wanted to come here with you."

"I believe you." Part of you wishes you came together too and then went home together. "But you know we can't do that."

"Yeah. I just got lost in a fantasy." He's staring off into the distance like he's looking at that old vision you thought of so he can show it to you.

"That's fine." You lean over and place your hand on his shoulder. His face turns to you and you're so close you almost want to kiss it and pass it off to everyone in the office as a drunk thing. Instead, you whisper, "We could do something else."

"Like what?"

You ask, "Christmas party is when the interns hook up, did you know that?" He shakes his head. "Last year, I caught Henry, that geeky one, and Stephanie, the one who always had her bra straps out, fucking in the coatroom."

"So, am I you're Henry?"

"I mean, you could be Steph if you want."

"Where are your bra straps?" His fingers trail around your shoulder fronts, only touching and seeing the dress strap.

"I'm not wearing a bra."

"Do you do shit like that just to get a rise out of me?"

You laugh at him because he's goofy, running his hands through his roughed-up hair and eyeing you up and down saliciously. "Not intentionally."

You're not stuffed in the coat closet, that's too public. You're stuffed in a cleaning closet that smells like wet mop. He shuts the door and you yank on the lightbulb. You're both illuminated lightly and it's the kind of light when you pass the flashlight around and hold it under your face and tell ghost stories.

Alex doesn't pounce right away, which shocks you. Instead, he stands by the door with his hands on his hips.

You hike up the short skirt of your dress. "Do you wanna see?"

Alex just nods, eyes fixated between your legs and you give him a coy smile as you tug your panties down and step out of them. You pull it back like a slingshot and launch it over by Alex who manages to catch it with a chuckle. "Your turn."

Alex shrugs off his suit jacket and places it over the broken office chair.

"No fair!" You call out.

He shakes his head. "It's not my fault you dress so skimpy to a Christmas party."

You gasp. "I think you'll find you like it when I dress skimpy."

"Yeah." He strides over and kisses you. Hot on the mouth, right to your core. His fingers travel down and he pushes your dress's skirt back up.

"Do you want me to play with your clit? Huh?" He brushes his finger over the swollen flesh, your hips jerking in response. He chuckles and it's so pleasurable you laugh a little at the sounds you make.

Alex shifts down and places his mouth directly on your heat. It's forceful and unforgiving, making your legs shaky and you grip the shelves for balance. He sucks sloppily on your clit, his tongue rubbing along the underside.

"Such a pretty cunt," Alex murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. "You know that right? That no one has a pretty cunt like you." His words against make you writhe. "So slutty and wet for me." He licks broadly up the center. You throb under his touches and licks and still want more. He slips three fingers inside, taking a few seconds to stretch you before fucking them in harshly, pounding against his pussy.

He laps over your clit as he thrusts his fingers inside, pressing upward and making you moan. The heat inside you is building quickly, his fingers curling into the skin of his thighs. You clench under his fingers, lost completely.

"Oh fuck, Al, I'm close—"

"This is what you wanted, isn't it? Me touching this filthy pussy?" He's harsh with his words, even harsher with his actions as he fucks in faster and flicks his tongue restlessly over your swollen clit until you cry out sharply, feeling everything burst inside you.

Your back arches as you come, head tipped back and exposing the long line of your throat. Alex's face stays buried against your pussy, his nose brushing against your mound. You feel yourself gush, making you pull Alex's head off of you. "Fuck, I've never done that before."

Alex looks up with a cocky chuckle and his button-up is slightly soaked. "Did you squirt or pee on me?"

You whack his shoulder. "Shut up."

"What?" He laughs really getting a kick out of himself. "At least we have a mop."

You hit him again when he gestures toward the dirty mop. He only continues to laugh. "It was not that funny and I didn't even do that much."

He hugs your hips and places his chin on your stomach, looking up at you. "I'm just making jokes. I'm happy."

You comb your fingers through his hair. "Me too."

He beams, wide and proud. "Good. I would do anything to make you happy."

"Really?"

"Yes."

You pull him up and undone his belt. He gets the message and tugs down his trousers and underwear. You take his cock in your hand and give him a few pumps, rubbing him against your pussy.

"You want me to fuck you?" He asks. He pushes the head teasingly against the clench of your hole, the fat head slick and messy with precum and your wetness.

His cock is right there and it's close, so fucking close to being inside you. You throb at the thought, eyeing the thickness of his cock and that familiar stretch. Alex starts to push inside at an achingly slow pace, watching the way you grip around the head of his cock, stretching to take him in. He's a little more than halfway in when he pulls out completely and smirks.

You roll your eyes. "I thought this was about what I want."

Alex chuckles. "Alright, then do your worst."

You stare at him, teasing you, making you give into him because giving into him makes you happy. "Just fuck me, okay?"

"Deal." His lips are rough on yours and his hard cock brushes against your stomach.

Finally, he pulls back and lines himself up, thrusting in sharply the first few times, rocking his hips as he becomes entranced with the tight pull and grip. "Fuck, you know how fucking good—"

You cover your hand around his mouth and shake your head. "None of that," you insist. "Just look at me."

Alex nods and he becomes slower, more intimate, and intently instead of rough and sloppy. You wonder if two people have ever made love in a broom closet. You doubt anyone had made love at the office Christmas party. It's loving and tender but you're impatient. "You can go faster," you whisper.

His eyes are worthy of falling into completely. You don't know how he doesn't get lost in his own appearance sometimes. How his not staring at himself in the mirror for hours because you could stare at him for hours. "Okay," he says softly.

He doesn't start pounding into you, but he moves quicker with more purpose of reaching an ending. He reaches down and starts rubbing your clit and you feel yourself tense up and you begin to moan louder and more frantic. He's sweating, his hairline damp, and muscles straining the sleeves of his shirt as he grips your hips tightly.

"Fuck—fuck, oh," you cry out, falling over.

He grunts, "Fuck, I'm gonna come."

"Come in me." Your face burns at how desperate you sound but he listens. His breath is ragged and his movements jerky as he draws the last of energy out, emptying into you.

Alex takes a deep breath, pulling out of you. He still has your panties and you can feel him dripping slowly out of you.

He opens his eyes and smiles a satiated smile at you. "I think we should go home. Your flat. Since you have the cookies."

But you know he says it because it's what you would prefer. And, for that sacrifice, you love him.

a/n: well...part 5?

#alex turner fic #alex turner x fem!reader #alex turner x oc #alex turner x reader #alex turner x y/n #alex turner x you #alex turner smut #junedenim #alex turner #the business

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