#Wine bottle suppliers | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

marvelwitchergilmore · 20 days ago

Text

Just Wanted To Hear Your Voice

Summary: Joel Miller x Fe!Reader -> You and Joel by no means are 'friends', but when things go wrong, you find comfort in hearing his voice.

Disclaimer: Mentions of murder, death, swearing, blood, gunshot wounds. Enemies to lovers, I guess. Single moms hitting on Joel. Hint of fake dating. Age-gap but not really specified. Angst, fluff/smaller intimate moments, Ellie calls Joel 'dad' and they have a cute moment. This is kind of a long one. Not Proof Read.

Yourself and Joel were by no means friends.

In fact, there hadn’t really been a time since you’d both met that you hadn’t knowingly hated each other. He found you too “new” – whatever the hell that meant. And you found him to be, well, an asshole.

You’d both first met through mutual friends. If you could call them that. You’d call Frank a friend. Bill was just…well, all being said he was a decent guy. He just didn’t take much to people.

A small lunch had been put on, allowing a nicer air of discussion around the topics of smuggling and trading. Initially, Joel had been…nice. As nice as he could be for an asshole.

But when he found out you were the one that the suppliers talked through, he practically ran in the other direction.

“She’s too new, Frank.”

Frank shook his head. “Just give her a chance. I promise. She knows more about this than you think.”

Walking around the corner, pretending not to have been eavesdropping, you held up a bottle of wine. “Figured this would go nice with the food?”

Frank smiled. Bill yelled.

“Did you take that from my-”

Keeping eye contact with Joel as you handed the bottle over to Frank, you yelled back to Bill. “Relax. I brought it with me. Your precious collection is safe.”

Bill relaxed after that and Frank went to find a bottle opener. And you stood with Joel in the sunny path.

“If you don’t want my suppliers, you can just say so to my face. But have it be based on their product. Not on how “new” you think I am. Whatever the hell that means.” Turning away, you walked back to the dinner table and acted as if nothing happened.

Ultimately, Joel agreed – however, to a smaller shipment.

“This is a trial run. If you get caught-”

“We won’t.”

For a moment, Joel looked confused, but then seemed to convince himself of something else and the conversation was cleared up before you all went your separate ways.

Except, the trial shipment never made it to Joel. At least, not all of it.

“You're short.”

“Trust goes both ways, Miller.”

Joel didn’t miss the way you were covered in scratches and bruises that were freshly forming. It had shocked him when he rounded the corner and found you considering he didn’t think you were also a delivery courier.

With a heavy sigh, Joel pocketed the goods and handed over his items before he turned to walk away.

“Wait.”

He stopped and looked back at you where he found you pulling an old card from your jacket pocket. “My details. In case you need to reach me.”

Joel took them reluctantly. “Thanks.” Then he nodded to your head. “You’re bleeding.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Then you walked away. But he called after you. “Hey, don’t you need mine?”

“Relax, Miller. I know how to reach you.”

Each meeting after that never got less colder. It was a business exchange being made with minimal trust via delivery system.

And then one day you simply dropped off the face of the planet when you were meant to be making another delivery to him in Boston.

“I knew it! She was too new!”

“Joel.”

“I warned Frank. I told him she would never-”

“She’s been good so far.” Tess explained. “Maybe she’s just having to lay low for a day or two. Security has gotten tighter with the fireflies going around.”

That was true but Joel couldn’t shake the feeling. Then one afternoon, your voice came over the radio.

“Wait a sec. He’s here.”

Tess stood from the chair and handed the receiver over to Joel who had just walked through the door.

“It’s Y/n.” Tess mouthed and the buried fury began to erupt inside of Joel.

“Yeah.”

“Joel?” Your voice crackled over the radio.

“You were meant to be here three days ago.”

“I know. But I’m not coming.”

“What?” Joel’s fury was starting to become white hot. “No, we had a deal.”

“I am sorry, Joel.”

He breathed out. “So what are you gonna do? Run with our supplies? Why call?”

You fell silent for a moment before your voice crackled back over the radio. “Guess I just wanted to hear your voice. I am sorry. To both of you.”

Then you signed off.

And he never heard from you again.

Until he found himself in need of an extra pair of hands at the house Tommy and Maria had set him and Ellie up in. As he stood on his porch in the morning sunlight, he heard a familiar set of tires pull up against his driveway.

First, Tommy stepped out of the passenger side. “Hey, figured you might need some extra panels. The ones around here have mostly rotted away with the winter.”

Then the driver stepped out. And Joel had to check he was still alive.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” You had beaten Joel to his own thoughts.

“Tommy, what the fuck is she doing here?”

Rounding his truck with the extra panels over his shoulder, Tommy looked between both yourself and Joel. “You’ve both met?”

“Yeah, I ran a couple supplies to him a while back.”

“Run off with them more like. What the fuck are you doing here?”

Placing your sunglasses into your shirt pocket, you climbed the stairs of his porch. “Wow, warm welcome. If you must know, I moved here. And I’m guessing you have, too.”

Tommy piped up. “Yeah, Y/n found us after-”

You shot a look at Tommy and he shut up. “After I left Frank and Bill. They left a note for you, if you’ve seen them.”

Joel nodded. “I got it.”

“Good.” And for a moment, the short silence was awkward. “So what can I do?”

“Fuck all.”

Tommy slapped his brother on the shoulder. “She can help fix this porch before Ellie falls through the rotting wood.”

“I can do it myself.”

You looked around and then back at Joel. “Couple extra hands can’t hurt.”

You were right. Joel hated that you were right. And the only reason why he didn’t completely kick you from his home was because the image of Ellie’s foot slipping through one of the wooden slats earlier that morning kept flashing through his mind.

You were banned early on from his porch, left to measure and cut wooden slats for one side of the porch whilst Tommy worked on the one between yourself and Joel, and Joel worked on the opposite side.

Most of it was finished by the time Ellie came strolling back up the driveway. “Joel, you won’t believe what happened today- Hi.”

You looked at Ellie and smiled. “Hi.”

From where Ellie was standing, you were a friend of Tommy’s. “I’m Ellie.”

You went to shake Ellie’s hand and introduce yourself when Joel came around the corner. “I’m-”

“Nobody. Ellie, get inside.”

From the look Joel gave at the sight of you, Ellie didn’t question his order. But she did question his judgement. So, just before he shut the door behind her, she turned back to him.

“Be nice.”

“I am nice.”

Ellie looked around. “Has she been helping all day?”

Joel couldn’t bring himself to voice the answer so just nodded.

“Then be nice.”

Joel just turned her around and lightly pushed her inside. “There’s some soup on the stove.”

Ellie was quick to turn back around just before he shut the door. “I’ve got homework and I…I don’t know…”

Joel just nodded. “I’ll help you.”

Ellie smiled. “Thank you. And be nice.”

An hour or so later, Joel had finally gotten rid of you, leaving him and Tommy with Ellie as she sat at the kitchen table trying to figure out her homework.

Which Joel and Tommy were no help with.

“When would I ever need this shit?”

“Ellie,” Joel sighed. “Language.”

“When would I ever need this stuff?”

Joel nodded. “Better.” Then he turned to Tommy.

“Don’t ask me. I don’t know how a fucking thing is taught anymore.”

“Well do you know who does?” Ellie asked.

“Can’t you ask your teacher?” Joel asked but Ellie shook her head. “Why not?”

“She’s…scary.”

Joel held back a laugh. “She’s scary?”

Ellie didn’t know how else to put it. “She got mad because I didn’t do fractions how she wanted me, too.”

“Did you get the right answer?”

She nodded. “Still got mad though.”

Joel looked to Tommy. “How can fractions change?”

Tommy shrugged. “Beats me. But I do think I know someone who might be able to help. Promise they’re not scary. She tutors a couple of the kids in the square. I can ask if she can drop by later on.”

“Really?”

Tommy nodded. “Sure, kid.”

It was a day later when Joel got a knock to his front door and found you standing there.

“What the fuck are you-”

You held back your smile. “Doing here? Guess I just wanted to hear your voice again.”

Joel wasn’t amused. You held your hand up. “I’m just here to help your daughter. Trouble with homework?”

“You’re the tutor?”

You nodded. “I’m the tutor.”

“You’re a smuggler.”

“I was a teacher before I was a smuggler.”

Then Ellie’s voice called out. “Joel! Who is it?”

Ellie appeared by his side, holding the door open wider. “Oh, hi.”

“Ellie, right?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

“I’m Y/n. I’m, hopefully,” you looked from Joel and back to Ellie, “going to be your new tutor.”

“Promise you won’t get mad if I don’t do it your way?”

You nodded. “A lot of kids, and parents, learn differently from the way your teacher wants people to learn. Promise I won’t get mad.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” Then Ellie looked at her dad and nudged him. “Joel…”

“What?”

“Let her in. I need her help.”

Reluctantly, Joel let you inside your home. “Come on, kitchen’s this way.”

You followed Ellie through her home and towards where she’d set up her homework station and you sat opposite her whilst Joel brought in a couple of old items from the garage outside and laid them on the kitchen island.

By the looks of it, the things he was ‘fixing’, weren’t in desperate necessity of a new working life. Especially considering he only ‘worked’ on them when you looked in his direction.

“Is he always like this?” You whispered to Ellie across the table. Ellie looked to her dad.

“Sometimes. Do you two know each other or something?”

You nodded. “Or something.”

“Aren’t you meant to be talking about contemporary…normal…analytics or something.”

You looked at Joel and smiled. “Or something.” Then you turned back to Ellie when he finally looked you in the eye.

“Let’s try the next line.”

You were in Joel’s home for another hour before you looked at your watch. “I’ve got to go, but I run a small class in the dance hall every Tuesday if you want to join us next week? I think you’d find it fun. You don’t even have to talk if you don’t want to. But it can provide some good insight into what you’re doing at school.”

“Why can’t you be one of the teachers?”

You laughed. “I’ve got my hands full helping others in town. But if your teacher is ever sick, I’ll step in.”

Ellie thought she already knew the answer. “How often does that happen?”

“Not very often.”

Ellie grimaced.

“But still, come on Tuesday. And if you hate it, you don’t have to come again.”

“Okay.”

Joel stood. “I’ll walk you out.”

And he did so, walking you to the end of his driveway towards your truck. “Thank you, for helping her.”

You shook your head. “Don’t mention it.”

“This doesn’t mean we’re okay.”

You gave a flat smile. “Joel, I’m just helping your daughter. We don’t even have to interact outside of you dropping her off at my classes in the week. I get you don’t like me, but that doesn’t mean you have to actively hate me. I’m just trying to help.”

“Like you helped me in Boston?”

You didn’t say anything in reply to that. “Goodnight, Joel. Give Ellie this.”

He opened the paper. “What is it?”

“It’s a schedule. And my radio code. If she needs my help, she knows where to find me.”

You and Joel didn’t talk much, if at all, after that. Ellie attended your classes when they were on and much to his chagrin, Ellie had found a friend in you.

Why was it out of all the people, in all the towns, in all the worlds, it had to be Jackson where you were? And why did you have to be one of the first people Ellie made friends with?

But one afternoon as he was sitting by the kitchen table, tuning up his guitar, he got a sense of deja vu.

The radio in the corner of the kitchen crackled and your voice sounded through its speakers.

“Why are you calling?”

“Just wanted to hear your voice.” You replied. “Joel, it’s Ellie.”

His heart dropped. “What? Is she okay?” He’d completely forgotten she was with you after school before she’d head to the bar to walk up with Tommy.

“She’s fine, but I think you should come down here. She needs her dad.”

Joel was inside the barn hall calling out for you and Ellie when he entered one of the back rooms that had your name and a large poster that looked like it had been decorated by some of the school kids taped on the outside.

As Joel walked inside, he found you and Ellie sat on a bench, your arm over her shoulder. And when you saw him, you whispered something to Ellie before she looked around and found Joel.

Immediately, she ran over to him and crushed him with a hug. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. Babygirl, I’ve got you. What happened?”

Joel managed to pull away a little so he could get a look at her face. “What’s going on?”

“I’m really sorry.”

“Joel, can I speak to you for a moment? Ellie, want to grab your things?”

Ellie looked to you and nodded, forcing herself from Joel’s embrace as she walked back to the bench to grab her bag and books.

“What’s going on?”

You sighed and spoke quietly. “It’s best if you ask Ellie about it but some asshole kid made a comment about Ellie and she stood her ground. As a teacher, I can’t condone her actions. I can’t condone what the kid said, either. But off the record, she was right to stand up for herself and I’m glad she did.”

Joel had to read between the lines from what you said and once Ellie was back at his side, he gave you a curt nod and headed for the door. He didn’t get any answers from Ellie until the next morning at the breakfast table when, in the open silence of the morning, she finally explained what happened.

“I…I know I’m not your daughter, Joel. But as families go, you’re the closest thing I’ve got to one. Some kid,” Ellie named him. “He said some things about me. About me having a family. A…about…about having a dad. Eventually, I lost it and pinned him to one of the posts and Y/n had to break it up. I…I didn’t stick around after that but she came to find me later. I know I shouldn’t have attacked him. He deserved it but I know I shouldn’t have…I just want to tell you I’m sorry and that if Tommy has to do something or if I have to leave, I will-”

Joel shook his head. “No. No, you did right. And, Ellie?”

She looked at him.

“You’re my daughter in every other way that counts. And if you want me to be your dad…I know we’re not blood but, if you see me as your dad…if you say I’m your dad, that’s okay. You’re my family, too.”

Ellie didn’t know what to say exactly so, looking down at her hands, she nodded trying to will the tears away. “Mmh, y-yeah. I…I’d like that.”

Then Joel smiled before standing and cradling his arms around his daughter. “And you don’t have to leave. Y/n’s on your side, too.”

“You really should be nicer to her. She’s a good person, Joel. I know something happened back in Boston but…are you going to hold it against her forever?”

Joel thought about it for a while. He probably would be thinking about it for a while longer, too. You had done what you had said. You had helped. You were helping.

“How about I make us some breakfast? Eggs?”

Ellie nodded.

Joel stood with a smile, kissing the top of her head quickly before turning around. “Sunny side up or scrambled?”

“Scrambled.”

“Coming up. You brushed your teeth?”

Ellie shook her head and stood. “I’ll be back.”

Just as she got to the kitchen entrance, she stopped herself and turned back. “Hey…dad?”

Joel turned around to face her as if it was the most natural thing in the world until he realised what she’d finally called him. “Yeah?”

Ellie let the moment settle. “Thank you.”

Joel just nodded before waving the spatula at her. “Go on, brush your teeth. And maybe run a brush through your hair.”

Ellie laughed a little before disappearing upstairs leaving Joel to finish cooking breakfast with a faint smile on his face. Never in his whole life had he ever imagined hearing someone call him “dad” again, but it washed over him like a fresh wave.

Then he remembered what she had told him.

What Ellie had said about you.

He never thought he’d be called “dad” again. Maybe some things could change for the better after all. He’d just need to learn to trust you more. Trust you in a way that didn’t have the end result be the same as Boston.

It took Joel a week to approach you.

During that week, you saw him across the square. He walked her to your lessons and waited for her every day. By day four, he stood a little closer to the building until one afternoon, when you thought everyone had left, his voice rang through your classroom.

No “hello”, no coughing, no calling of your name to get your attention. Just…

“Thank you.”

You internally swore at yourself for jumping the way you did. Looking around the room, your brain let itself relax when you realised you were correct in your initial thought of who the voice belonged to. Not the rest of the people your head named after him.

“Joel.” You breathed, a hand against your chest. Then you fixed yourself.

Standing straighter with a couple books cradled in your arm, you turned and faced him properly.

Joel felt a little awkward but considering you seemed to not mention how he’d scared you, he didn’t bother to mention it either.

“Thank you,” he repeated. “Ellie..told me how you helped her, so I just…didn’t want it to go unnoticed.”

Never in your life had you heard Joel say so much as a nice thing towards you. To others, it was few and far between. But to you; not so much.

You didn’t know how to take it exactly. “I appreciate that, I do. But that’s not why I did it.”

Ellie had told him the rest of the story when she came back downstairs for breakfast. How you’d broken up the fight, called out the student and warned the rest of the class before dismissing them. And how you’d spoken to her when you found her. You didn’t make her feel scared or “shit” as Ellie had put it every so gracefully to him. And if he was being honest, Ellie’s love for actual school was much better even just after a few weeks with you.

“She’s a good kid, Joel.” You told him. “I don’t pretend to know what either of you went through to get here. But despite whatever did happen, she’s a good kid. She, nor anyone else, deserved to be treated the way she did. She stood up for herself and I’m proud of her for that. And I hope you are, too.”

Joel could only nod. “I am.”

You nodded in agreement. “Good.” You went to turn away to collect the rest of the books but then quickly turned back around. “Oh, here. Let me give you this.”

Joel was about to walk himself before you called out so, standing in the middle of the room a little worried about what you were going to give him, he watched as you rushed towards your desk and picked up a piece of paper.

Walking over, you held it out to him. “We’re having a parent-teacher night next week. Just gives the parents a chance to talk about the kids and see their work for this year. They say it’s mandatory but I do hope you’ll show up.”

Rubbing his jaw, Joel read the page. “Sure.”

“Good. Don’t tell Ellie but I plan on showing a couple of her school books. She’s a smart kid.”

“Smart mouth, too.”

You laughed a little. “That, too.”

But all in all Joel agreed. “I’ll be there.”

“Goodnight, Joel.”

“Yeah, night.” Joel reminded himself that he had to leave and finally made his way towards the door.

Yet he stopped by the door and looked back to where you went back to collecting the rest of the books and he couldn’t help but feel his mind was changing on you. He couldn’t place why but the fact Ellie liked you was a start.

By the time Parent-Teacher night rolled around, Joel found himself being bossed around by Ellie as he got dressed.

“Put on the green one!” Ellie shouted up the stairs.

“What?”

“The green shirt. Put that one on.”

“Why?”

“Just do it!”

Joel grumbled but did as he was told. And once he was showered and dressed, Ellie practically shoved him out of the door. “Come on, we’re gonna be late!”

“Since when did you become so eager to get to school? I usually have to drag you out of bed.”

“I know but tonight’s important.” Ellie laughed. “Come on.”

Joel found himself laughing, too as he locked up before they both headed towards his truck. Maybe they could have walked but Joel had a feeling by the time the night had finished, Ellie would be about ready to fall asleep.

And when they did finally walk inside, Joel looked around before he spotted a familiar face in you. And then you spotted him and waved. Ellie waved back.

Then Joel was greeted by Ellie’s teacher. You chuckled as you watched them both step back and recoil a little. Like father, like daughter.

“Fuck.” They both swore under their breath.

“Mr Miller.”

Joel started getting flashbacks of his middle school principal who seemed to have a vendetta against him and Tommy.

“Ellie.”

Ellie nodded, moving to stand behind Joel a little. “Mrs Davis.”

“Mr Miller, I was hoping to speak to you about Ellie. She’s been, let’s say, a little harsh in her language since she got here. And, despite her improving grades, she hadn’t quite been grasping the concept of how we complete work-”

Joel and Ellie got another shock when you suddenly appeared from behind Mrs Davis, except this was one of pleasant surprises.

“Mrs Davis-”

“Please, do not interrupt-”

“Frankie’s parents are asking to speak to you personally.” That seemed to change Mrs Davis’ tune.

“Oh, right. Um, please…please excuse me.” You pointed her in the direction of Frankie and his parents and replaced where she stood and only spoke when she was finally out of ear-shot.

“Sorry about her. And please ignore everything she said.”

Joel raised his brow. “Everything?”

You both looked at Ellie and then back at each other. “Okay, maybe not everything. But she has been swearing less.”

Joel gave a ‘dad’ look to Ellie but she tried to hold back her smile as she held up her hands. “Hey, she said less.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Ellie, I hope you don’t mind but I’ve decided to show some of your work.”

“Really?”

She seemed shocked, rather than horrified. You nodded. “Both of you follow me?”

They did and once you’d all reach one of the middle tables, you held one of the books out to Joel.

“Holy shit.” Ellie whispered. Joel nearly shut the book to give her another look but she apologised and studied the books you’d laid out.

“Ellie, do you mind giving your dad and I a minute?”

Ellie looked between you both before giving a slight smile and nodding. “Okay.”

Then she disappeared into the crowd.

“How is she?” Joel asked, looking through Ellie’s books.

“She’s good. The swearing could use a bit of an improvement,” you smiled a little and Joel finally met your eyes. You tried your best to avoid taking a mental picture or keeping a written memory of how he looked. “She’s doing well, Joel. She’s even starting to make friends. It’s taking her a while to trust people, but she’s getting there like the rest of us.”

Joel’s stare softened for a moment.

You forced yourself to look away and back at her books. “She needs a bit of help with her maths and science but we’re working on that in our sessions. But she’s excelling at history.”

“There’s a museum not too far away. I was thinking about taking her to see it.”

You graced him with another smile. “I think she’d really enjoy that, Joel.”

He nodded, feeling pleased at your agreement.

“Look, I just need to go and speak to a couple other parents but, feel free to stay here as long as you’d like. We…we have the kids write in a diary every week. Just jotting down what they want to work on, or what they want help with in class. Some kids even write short stories and things. I think you’d like what Ellie did.”

Lifting the diary from underneath the pile, you handed it over to Joel.

“Last couple of pages.”

With a smile, you left him alone.

Joel opened it up. There was the usual. Reviews of books they’d read in class. What Ellie wanted help with (science), what she enjoyed (history). Joel found himself smiling as he read through the comments. He could hear her voice in his head as he did so.

Then he got to the back couple of pages.

It was different sketches of their home. Of their windows, porch, backyard. Then small notes; things he’d told her. Things to remember when playing the guitar, how to fix the porch, what things are in a car. Just small notes of information she believed important to her.

You didn’t know how long you’d left Joel to fend for himself. You knew the minute he walked in that all the single moms had their radars switched on. They already tried to get his attention whenever he walked past the school during the day. But this Joel was freshly showered and wasn’t covered in layers of heavy clothing. He had a green shirt that made his eyes stand out more than usual, his hair softening as it dried in the warmth of the building.

You didn’t know how long you’d left him alone, knowing it wouldn’t take long for the single moms to make their move. But when you were wading deep through double digits of parent-talks, Ellie came and found you.

“I think Joel needs your help.”

You saw when Ellie was looking and held back a short laugh. As Joel managed to get out of the grasp of one woman, another one popped up out of nowhere. And then another one. And another. And another.

“I tried but they kinda swarmed over and I got pushed out of the crowd.”

You chuckled watching the comedy play out in front of your eyes as Joel tried his best to escape.

“Okay, give me a minute.”

“I think it’ll take longer than that but, good luck.”

Making your way over, you called out to him before forcing yourself through the crowd. A few women were about to scold you for doing so until they realised it was you. The teacher. Apparently in search of Joel, the parent.

“Help me.”

Taking Joel by the hand, you drew him in front of you before taking him by the shoulders. “Sorry, ladies but I need to talk with Mr Miller for a moment.”

Practically directing him out of the crowd, you beckoned Ellie over and she immediately pushed around the crowd to get to both you and Joel. You and Ellie looked back to find the women still standing waiting for him to come back.

“I don’t know about you two but I could use a drink.”

“Yes.” Ellie agreed completely.

“Don’t you have work?”

“I’ve spoken to enough parents tonight. Mrs Davis will only speak to them after me anyway. Want that drink, or would you like for me to throw you back into the pack?”

“Anything but the second one.”

“Can I have one?”

“No.” Both you and Joel said before he added. “You can have a soda.”

Grabbing your bag, you showed Joel and Ellie to the back door of the school and you all took the long way round the building to get towards the bar.

“I’ll go and tell Tommy you’re coming.” Ellie took off running. Joel tried to shout back but she just called back.

“Be safe! I know!”

“That kid is gonna be the death of me, I swear.”

You laughed, slowing your steps as you and Joel were finally far enough away from the school.

“Thank you for showing me her work. And the other stuff. Kinda made my night.”

“It wasn’t the single moms asking you a thousand questions that did it?”

Joel chuckled. “Thanks for that, too.”

“Oh, you’ll need to thank Ellie for that one. She came and got me. Who knows, if she didn’t, you could have drowned in phone numbers and radio stations.”

Joel tried his best to laugh it off. But you disagreed.

“Don’t knock it. Hot and handsome single dads are few and far between in this town.”

Joel couldn’t help but repeat your words. “Hot and handsome.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to hide your slight embarrassment of letting your inner thoughts slip. “Alright.”

“No, no. Please. Tell me more of these hot and handsome single dads.”

“You’re hilarious. I hope you know how funny you are.”

“Why?” Joel asked. “Does that make me hotter?”

You rolled your eyes, trying your best to hide your smile. “Okay. Don’t let it go to your head, Miller.”

“Too late. It’s already there.” Joel reached for the door handle of the bar and held it open for you. “Come on.”

“Thanks.”

Entering, you found the place a little quieter than usual before you both met Ellie at the bar and Tommy made his way over.

“Here you go.”

“I already ordered for you.” Ellie told you both. “I didn’t know what you drank but Tommy said he remembered.”

You thanked them both before accepting Joel’s invitation to sit with them at the bar. Joel sat in the corner, his back resting against the wall whilst you sat between both him and Ellie as she moved up quickly before you could take your original seat.

And for the first time, you both talked.

At first, it was just about a few things around town. Joel asked you about how you got into teaching, or at least, why you taught tutor sessions but not lessons at the school. You told him the truth. Day one of you arriving here and meeting Mrs Davis, you knew you didn’t want to be dictated by her rules that were already scaring the kids enough into thinking they were back with FEDRA. They needed help learning and a safe space to do so. That was where you could help.

Then you told him you were sorry about Tess. He tensed for a while, unsure of what to say or how to react.

“I know she meant a lot to you.”

Conversation flowed for a little while longer than a distraction was provided as Ellie disappeared to the toilet and a group of moms walked in through the front door.

Then Joel ducked and somehow tried to shrink himself in the corner of the bar. “Shit.”

You laughed. “Oh please, they won’t hate you for it. In fact it just adds to the chasing element. More than anything they’ll be hating me for dragging you away for some ‘alone time’.”

“Why? Because I’m hot and handsome?”

“I regret saying it now.”

“They’re your words, Darlin’.”

You tried to ignore what his words and accent did to you, and tried to focus on the fact that one of the moms was making their way towards both of you.

“Where’s Ellie?”

“There was a line, she’s probably still in it.” You told him. “Relax, once she comes out, she’ll see that you’re uncomfortable and you can both go home.”

“You can see I’m uncomfortable.”

“Joel.” You leveled with him. “You look like you’re about to run out of your own skin. How could you have been a smuggler in the QZ for so long but be scared of a single mom? Just talked to her.”

“Where are you going?”

You were about to leave when Joel reached out for you. “Going to get Ellie.”

Joel looked at the mom making her way over. She was getting closer. “You said it yourself that she’ll be able to see we’re uncomfortable.”

“We’re?” You questioned. “Joel-”

But you couldn’t say anymore than that because the mom had arrived beside both of you and Joel had tugged you back by your shirt to stand with him.

“Emma, hi.”

She smiled at both of you. “Hi, um, I was wondering if I could speak to Joel. We didn’t really get a chance to finish our conversation since, you know, you came and kinda dragged him away.”

“Yeah,” you laughed. “Sorry about that, it’s just…” You looked at Joel hoping he’d maybe butt into the conversation. “We had to talk about his daughter.”

“I didn’t see you leaving with any of the other parents,” she mentioned to you.

Joel finally spoke up after clearing his throat. “I, uh, well, Ellie actually…invited her out with us.”

“Ellie did?” Emma seemed shocked.

“I did what?”

Both you and Joel seemed more than relieved to see her appear from behind Emma.

Emma looked from Ellie to Joel and then to you, back to Ellie and then she smiled. “I was just hoping to talk with your dad for a minute if that’s okay?”

Taking a quick look at her dad to see him subtly shake his head, Ellie half-faked a yawn.

“We were actually just about to leave.”

“But your drink is still half full.”

“That’s, uh, that’s Tommy’s. Anyway, we’d better be off. Ellie?”

As they got halfway to the door, you called after them, making something up to Emma. “I need to tell you about next week’s homework-”

The doors shut behind you and you rushed to join Joel and Ellie.

“Who was she?” Ellie asked.

“A woman.”

“She was trying to hit on Joel.”

Ellie looked at you. “Hit on Joel or hit you to get to Joel?”

“Both probably.”

Then something strange happened. You and Joel looked at each other and then started to laugh.

On the way back to the school, you explained to Ellie everything that had happened and she started to laugh with both of you before swearing to protect Joel when and where he needed to be.

“Hey, can I drop you off home?”

You hitched a thumb over your shoulder. “I’m just down here. But thanks.”

Then from the car Ellie called out. “Dad! Let’s go!”

Joel laughed and looked back at you where he found a light smile on your face. He tried to ignore what it made him feel.

“You better go, before she comes to hit me to get to you.”

Joel nodded, laughing a little at that. “Okay. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Joel.”

As Joel drove back home, Ellie quickly falling asleep in the passenger seat, but not before saying; “I told you she was a good person.” leaving him to roll his eyes lightly and agree, he found himself thinking over what he had been feeling since he saw you show up beside Mrs Davis.

Maybe his feelings for you were starting to change more than he had expected.

And they only continued to change over the following months.

Three months later, Joel found himself as your actual friend. Between your tutoring sessions with Ellie, and being forced to work together by Tommy when he was a couple hands short for a couple jobs that needed doing around town, you’d both become friends.

And he’d learnt to trust you. And you had learnt to trust him.

From running the lunch tables in the school every Tuesday and Thursday and Friday together, to taking on a couple of patrol shifts on the weekends together, you and Joel earned each other's trust.

And between all of that, you had somehow become Joel’s shield from the rest of the single mothers in the town that did not wish to hide their already obvious crush on Joel.

Until that shield began to crack.

“I heard she left them for dead. Why would anyone want to be with someone like that…he deserves so much better.”

“Left them for dead, more like killed them for everything. And for what? So she can come and teach our kids and steal our men.”

“I’ve tried talking to Maria but she must have her claws in her, too. She doesn’t want to listen to reason. Joel doesn’t deserve her. Nobody does. The stories people tell. And she doesn’t deny them.”

Tommy leaned over the bar. “Don’t listen to them.”

“Hard not to when gossip about you changes every hour.”

“Have you even told Joel what happened?”

You shook your head.

“Why not?”

“I’m happy where I’m at with him. I’m able to help Ellie without her dad wishing me dead because I bailed on a trade.”

Tommy didn’t have the chance to reply because another mom came and sat beside you. “He doesn’t deserve you, you know. He has the choice of a lot of women in this town, and he chooses you? Why?”

You sighed. “Like I told Emma, and Ashely and Tracy and every other mom in your friend group. Joel and I are not dating. We are not a thing. If you want to talk to him, then go ahead but do not blame me for something that I am not doing. And if Joel doesn’t want to talk to you, then maybe take the hint.”

“Why wouldn’t he want to talk to us? What have you been telling him?”

You looked across the bar and shouted to Tommy. “Schedule’s in the glasses!”

“Oh, okay. Thanks!”

And you stood up. But the mom gripped onto your arm to stop you from walking away.

“We know the truth about you and sooner or later, he’ll come to his senses.”

Ripping your arm from her grasp, you made your way out of the doors and down the square. As much and as hard as you tried to forget what she had said, the stories, the gossip and what she had said to you continued to play on your mind.

But a week later, none of that mattered. At least for you. For Joel and Ellie, it meant something different.

When Joel had gotten up that morning, he went about his routine. Getting into the shower, getting dressed, waking Ellie up, getting his work gear ready, knocking on Ellie’s door once again, making breakfast, knocking on her door a third time before she swung it open and stumbled out of her bedroom and into the bathroom. Eating breakfast with his daughter before driving her to school and heading to work.

Except, when he finished work and went to pick Ellie up from the group tutor session after school, he found her sitting outside the doors already waiting for him.

“How was school?”

“Y/n didn’t turn up.”

Joel was confused. “What?”

“I waited for her to, but she didn’t.”

Joel checked the radio. “Did she cancel the session?”

Ellie shook her head. “We were meant to go over the new science homework.”

“Did you try to find Tommy?”

“Couldn’t find him. The dude in the bar said he was on patrol.”

Joel hummed, trying his best to make sure his mind remained focused. Maybe you’d just gotten caught up doing another job. You wouldn’t have forgotten about the kids.

But before he could drive away, there was an uproar of noise coming from the main gates where Tommy rode in as quickly as he could before coming to an abrupt halt.

“What’s going on?”

Joel switched off the engine and unbuckled his seatbelt. “Stay here.”

Ellie did as she was told but wound down the widow in hopes she’d be able to hear what was being said.

“Tommy!”

“Joel! I don’t know what happened but-”

“Who is it?”

Then Tommy went from frantic to unnaturally calm. “It’s Y/n.”

Then Joel saw and slowly made his way over. Your body was slung over the back of a horse before being dragged onto a stretcher. And for a second, Joel saw the worst. He thought you were dead.

“She should be okay if we can get her fixed.”

“What happened? Tommy!”

Tommy joined his brother as you were taken away. “I-I don’t know. She was covering a shift. We were meant to be back an hour ago. But when she didn’t turn up with her partner, I went to look for her. I just found her like that.”

“Dad?” Ellie had gotten out of the car.

“Get back in the car!”

“But-”

“Now, Ellie.”

She just nodded and made her way back.

“Go home, Joel. There’s nothing you can do for her right now.” Those were Tommy’s last words before Maria came running out of one of the town buildings and towards her husband whose hands were covered in patches of blood.

“Is she going to be okay?” Ellie asked, her face pale, as Joel got back into the truck.

“I don’t know.”

You spent the next three days unconscious and Joel spent his time trying to work out what had happened and why. You hadn’t been bitten. You’d been shot.

Joel had also spent three days hearing the whispers around town, hoping to hear any updates on your condition. He couldn’t bring himself to go and see you, and neither could Ellie.

But rather than updates, he heard…stories.

“It’s karma, though, don’t you think?”

“What they say about her? Everything she did? Maybe someone came to get revenge.”

“Maybe it was just self-defence.”

“Would she really do that here?”

“Maybe one of them followed her here and waited for her. After all, she never volunteered for that job.”

“Would you, though? Hunting those things? I couldn’t do it.”

“She's probably just looking for some sympathy. Not getting anywhere with Tommy’s brother – I heard they’ve got a past.”

“A past or a past? Because if I had a past with that man, I’d be making sure it was present and future, too.”

“Would you shoot yourself to make sure of that?”

The woman laughed. “Honey, for a piece of him? I’d do almost anything.”

Over the days, he heard more than just that. Of stories about you and your past before you came to Wyoming. Some were nicer than others, but many were…if he hadn’t somehow become your friend over the last few months, he would have been saying the same thing. So…was it still the same? Were you still hiding something? He still didn’t know what had happened back in Boston. All he knew was that you had practically disappeared off the face of the earth.

When people like you sold his trade, it was usually to someone else. But he hadn’t heard anything. No extra sale. No new traders. Just complete silence.

He had thought about asking you a few times. Part of him, he guessed, still didn’t trust you. Especially since Ellie was now involved, too.

It wasn’t until a week later that Joel could bring himself to come and see you. They’d placed you inside the doctor’s surgery. You still hadn’t woken up but the doctors that were in the town seemed a little more hopeful for you pulling through.

“She’s still young, her body should heal like it did before.”

Joel had to do a double take. “Before?”

The doctor nodded and rested the chart at the end of the bed. “When she arrived here, she collapsed just outside the gates. Thankfully, I was on patrol that day – otherwise they would have shot her. They thought she’d been bitten but…”

The doctor gave a heavy sigh and they both looked back at you before he continued. Joel looked back at the doctor.

“I’ve seen enough of those bites in my life to know the difference between that and a bullet wound.”

“D’you know who shot her?”

The doctor shook his head. “She never could bring herself to tell me. But when Tommy walked in, she looked like she’d pass out again. She didn’t talk for three days after that…then…one day she just opened up. Tommy was the only one she’d talk to and I’d figure he’s the only one who knows that whole story.”

If his brother knew the whole story, why didn’t he ever say anything?

“I suspect she’ll be waking up soon, ‘might be nice if someone is here this time.”

Joel just nodded after a while, realising what the Doctor was asking of him. He’d stay. You were alone last time. You were probably terrified to go through what you did for, as far as he knew, a second time. You shouldn’t have to be alone when you’d wake up, too.

Except, as he sat by your bed, he’d gathered more questions in his head than he had answers.

It took you a while before you could bring yourself to open your eyes, almost like you’d had the deepest sleep of your life and you weren’t ready to get up yet. Beneath your hands and legs you became familiar with the feeling of bedsheets.

Slowly your fingertips felt for some kind of grip. Some kind of notion that you weren’t still left in the dirt, buried between the trees and moss alone. One hand provided you relief. Bedsheets. The other…

Opening your eyes, the brightness cut through your vision until you finally blinked them open and found Joel’s hand in yours.

Carefully looking around the room, you recognised where you were. Only, the last time you were in the same bed, in the same room, you had woken to find yourself alone.

“Take it easy. Tommy…he found you and brought you back.”

You swallowed but your throat felt like it had been attacked by a grater. “How…how long have I been out?”

“Little over a week.”

You relaxed back into the pillows and closed your eyes, forgetting your hand was enclosed in Joel’s.

“Do you remember what happened?”

It took you a moment but you eventually nodded. “The doc…he told me this isn’t the first time you’ve been shot…”

Opening your eyes, your gaze met Joel’s. He looked curious…concerned.

“What happened before you got here?” You waited for his true question. And you didn’t have to wait long.

“What happened back in Boston?”

You figured he’d ask you one day. You just hadn’t expected it to be like this. Joel let you take your time. Blinking back the oncoming tears. Trying to control your breathing. Trying to control your fears from hitting you at full force.

“I was with my team.” You took your time explaining what had happened. When you’d realised Tommy was Joel’s brother, you explained what you could to him. You could deal with Joel hating you for what you’d done. You would have felt the same. But you didn’t want the one place you might have been able to call a home to be thrown away on conspiracy.

“We’d run the route a thousand times. I’d done it on my own for years. But, one night it just poured with rain. Buckets and buckets could have been filled. I remember finding new lakes in parks when I got out, but…umm…”

You swallowed thickly and bit back the tears.

“We were only a couple miles out of Boston so we found shelter. Checked it over. It was clear. We would have been safe for the night. A couple of us stayed on watch for a while but I must have fallen asleep,” tears came to your eyes and a few escaped down your cheeks. “Because…”

You didn’t know where from but you gathered enough strength to bring your voice back, even if only for a short moment.

“Because when I woke, half of my team was missing. A couple of our supplies had been thrown around the place. Grabbed my gun, woke the others and started searching the building. We found the rest of our team on one of the upper floors. One…one of my guys got bit. But he didn’t want to…he didn’t want to die. He’d convinced himself he wasn’t infected and when the others saw, I guess they tried to do something about it but he got…he got one over on them.”

Joel waited for you to continue but then noticed the twitching in your side. You sat up quickly and tried to lift your t-shirt. “It…ahh.”

You closed your eyes from the pain and squeezed Joel’s hand just before he stood up and reached for some of the balm the doctor had made and left by your bedside.

Rounding the bed, Joel sat beside you. “Come here.”

“Joel, it hurts.”

“I know, I know. Can I lift your shirt?”

You nodded and hummed in pain, letting his fingers slowly lift it up. “This might sting, but it’s gonna help.”

You heard Joel open up a metal screw-top tin before he gathered some of it on his fingers and rubbed it gently around and over your healing wound. You let out a small gasp and covered grunt in pain as the hand that had previously been closed in reached for his arm.

“I’m sorry. I know.”

You tried to concentrate on Joel’s continuous movements as he rubbed the balm into your skin. It was less itchy, and it was cooling down a little. The pain in your side was still there but it was becoming bearable.

“The infection came over him pretty quickly.” Joel’s fingers stalled for a moment before he continued, making sure he wasn’t causing more harm than good.

You could finally open your eyes again.

“It all happened so fast. I guess one of us moved and before I knew it…bullets were flying everywhere. I must have gotten caught in them then, but I can’t be sure. I just started shooting and he dropped the gun but then…Joel, he started biting. And I just…I didn’t know what to do. People were trying to help him, trying to help those he was attacking. I just fired. For a moment I thought I could get him out, maybe lose him outside and get back in time. Find another way to you. But he was too fast.”

As your tears fell down your cheek, you hadn’t realised Joel had stopped rubbing the balm into your side and was holding you steady whilst his hand held your face, his thumb tracing the tears away.

You finally looked at him. “I shot them all, Joel. He’d bitten them all. Some in the neck, others in the arm. A few hours and my team that knew every smuggling route, that knew every way into a QZ without being detected, that…that were my family. I tried to wait. Hoped that maybe it was just a bullet graze. That they’d be okay but…just as one turned, so did the others…”

Joel didn’t know fully what to do. If he had known…

He pulled you close to him, kissing your temple before holding you against him. You didn’t know how long he held you for, but you knew he never let you go. He never left your side. He didn’t even try to.

“I don’t know how long it was before I radioed through to you. All I remember was seeing a lot of blood on the floor and wondering why it was down my clothes. But I was glad to hear your voice. Even if you did hate me for bailing on you.” You eventually explained. “I’d managed to get some supplies to take with me. Fixed what I could of my wounds and prayed I’d make it some place. For a while I was okay, my wound was healing. But then I guess I ran into the wrong people. Some guy decided to start firing and I got hit again. I don’t know how long I ran for but the last thing I remembered was hearing horses.”

“Does Tommy know all of this?”

“Parts, but not all.”

Joel wondered whether or not he should tell you about what he’d heard over the last few days. “People…they’ve been talking since you came back…what happened when you went out?”

You shook your head. “I don’t know. I just remember hitting something and then a sharp pain. I told my partner to meet me at the bottom of the hill. Guess the others finished the same as him.”

“What do you want me to tell Ellie?”

“Just tell her I’ll be okay. She doesn’t need to know the whole story yet.”

“Too late.”

Joel and you looked towards the door and found Ellie standing in the hallway. “Mrs Davis let us out early. I wanted to come and see you. And…I’m glad you’re okay. And as far as I’m concerned, everyone can go fuck themselves.”

“Ellie. What have I told you about eavesdropping?” Joel asked her as she walked inside.

“Not…to do it.” She answered slowly. “But you know I’m right. You’ve heard the stories, too.”

“Stories?”

Joel sighed and turned back to you. “People in this town…they’ve got nothing better to do but gossip about what happened to you before you came here.”

Ellie jumped into the chair where Joel had previously been sat. “Yeah, and some of em’ are wild.”

You looked between her and Joel. “Like what?”

Joel looked from his daughter to you and sighed. “Most of them aren’t so nice, but…” Silently, Joel gave his permission to Ellie to tell you.

“There’s one that says you’re some bigwigs daughter who ran away to run his kingdom but then you got overthrown by a rebel group so now you’re waiting here before you can take your kingdom back over.”

You raised your brows. “Wow.”

“And someone else has said you’re actually a fortune teller that is secretly training us to help you and your psychic army to take over the cordyceps and make them human again.”

That one made you laugh a little.

“People have nothing better to do with their time.” Joel told you.

You shook your head. “It’s okay. The people…” you looked at Joel and Ellie. “The people that need to know the truth already know. Nobody else matters.”

Joel smiled at you before looking over at his daughter. “Go and find the doc so he can look her over.”

Ellie nodded before pulling herself out of the chair and spinning out of the door. “I’m really glad you’re okay, Y/n.”

You smiled before looking back at Joel finding him looking at you, too. Then you found your fingers tracing his own.

“I’m really glad you were here with me when I woke up.”

Joel smiled before lifting his hand and lightly brushing the few stray hairs from your face before his eyes found yours.

“Guess I just wanted to be the first to hear your voice.”

You smiled, hearing your own words echoed back to you from him. You leaned into his touch before you felt yourself lean forward a little only to have his lips meet yours in a tender kiss.

With a little confidence growing around your heart, you leaned in a little closer, feeling Joel’s fingers dig a little into your hair as he pulled you closer, and into a deeper kiss.

“Hey, the kid told me- whoa.” Tommy stalled in his tracks and covered his eyes. “Uh, sorry. I…I guess you’re okay. Uh, yeah. I-I’m just gonna-”

Tommy looked around himself, making sure the door he came through was still there and accessible for him to leave through it. “Good–Good door frame job.” He tapped it twice. “I-I’ll remember to knock on next time.”

You chuckled a little, leaning into Joel the same as he did with you as he watched his brother become 12 again and leave through the door.

“I guess we should wait until we’re actually alone before Ellie comes running through her and gets the shock of her life.”

Joel chuckled. “I guess you’re right.”

But he couldn’t help himself. Kissing you once more, you both made sure to listen out for the jingle of the door and when you did, Joel made sure to sit up a little as you leaned back. However, your hand remained in his, his thumb brushing continuously over your knuckles. He pressed a quick kiss to them before Ellie appeared through the door with the doctor who seemed more than relieved to see you awake and alive.

Maybe when you and Joel had met, you were the furthest thing from friends. But now, with a developing connection and deeper feelings, you found yourselves moving further from friends, but in the opposite direction.

Towards happiness.

Towards love.

Towards the light.

131 notes · View notes

lazycats-stuff · 1 year ago

Note

Can I ask for a follow up on Australian bat!bro reader where he gets annoyed bc they won’t let him drink alcohol or smth? Here in Australia there is alot of underage drinking. (I mean I got high and tipsy at my 17th birthday party with parental permission💀)

Just thinking about the culture shock most of them would get 😭

Lol, it's the same thing here where I live. Alcohol flows around here. Despite being an adult, I don't drink at all. I just hate alcohol. Also, I know this is short, but it's fine...

Summary: (Y/N) wants to drink. The fam is not allowing it.

Warnings: Underage drinking,

Australia and America couldn't be anymore different when it came to drinking. In America, a simple of drop for a person under 21 is disappointing to parents. Siblings would probably be happy and proud and would look for each.

In Australia, you just need parent's permission. Oh how nice that was back then. (Y/N) remembered how he got tipsy on one of his birthdays at the time. It was lit and (Y/N) loved it. Of course, he wouldn't drink as if he is an alcoholic.

He would only drink in company of others and that would be a glass tops. Not even a second one. He can't get embarrassed in public now. But there was a slight problem now too.

His family is the biggest problem. Well, some of them are, not all of them are the problem.

Jason is amazing when it came to drinking. The two would sometimes drink together and it was so fun. (Y/N) didn't like to drink something like a shot. He would like to savor the flavor of the drink, whether or not it was some wine or scotch.

Or even some votka.

You don't just drink it, you savor it. And that's what he does every time he drinks with Jason. Sometimes there are times when they just drink in silence, enjoying the company. That usually meant that sharing a bottle something between them two.

Sometimes it was just quiet chatter in between them. It was funny and Jason was the supplier for them both. In return, he got 5 bucks from (Y/N) for his efforts.

It's not easy to hide anything in this household. Everyone was trained to observe and it was just... Sometimes it gets to you and you try hard to hide things.

Damian is the one who doesn't care, but would advise (Y/N) not to drink it. Damian is only thinking about his self awareness and his cognitive thinking in some situations.

Damian is just like Bruce, can't drink for the life of him. Not that he wants to anyway. It's not good for your awareness and Damian always had to be vigilant and observant.

And besides, Damian likes (Y/N) and he just wants to make sure that he is okay. He also likes (Y/N)'s accent a lot. And considering that (Y/N) is not a vigilante and despite the training, (Y/N) is a cinnamon roll according to Damian.

Dick was the one who was against it completely. He didn't like it, he hated it and he wanted (Y/N) to stop drinking. He remembers nearly having a heart attack when he saw (Y/N) drinking for the first time, ever so nonchalantly.

He never ran so fast to get the glass out of (Y/N)'s hands. He was so confused at (Y/N)'s blank look and a simple what. It seems that the concept of drinking below the age of 21 is a foreign thing, something unheard of.

And that's when he got vigilant with (Y/N). It made (Y/N) sigh every time he saw Dick lurking somewhere, watching him. It made his insane and that's how he got better with hiding alcohol.

(Y/N) thought that drinking below 21 in America is like being an alcoholic.

Tim didn't have a say in anything in regards to this matter at all. He was addicted to coffee and he is the one who needs to kind of let go of it. So much caffeine is not healthy at all.

An occasional drink is fine. So much cups of coffee are not.

The two just shrugged towards one another in passing, (Y/N) with some alcohol and Tim with his coffee. They didn't even say anything to each other at this point. Just a nod or a shrug of their shoulders.

That was more than enough.

Now Bruce... Well, he knew that Australia has different laws and that drinking there is something that's more lenient. In America, unless you turn 21 you are, in (Y/N)'s mind, you are really missing in life.

The first time Bruce saw (Y/N) drink he paled and tried to get it away from him, but then asked him about the customs regarding the drinking in Australia.

(Y/N) explained it to him and Bruce advised him not to drink. Well, Bruce started hiding the alcohol in the house. Nobody really drank so it wasn't a difficult thing to hide. However, he knew that Jason is a supplier.

So he had to keep an eye out.

And Alfred? Oh boy, that man hates when (Y/N) drinks. He doesn't care about traditions in Australia. He spent some time in Australia and while he loved the Aussies and the way they drank, he didn't like it when his grandson did.

(Y/N) knew that he had to evade (Y/N) with everything in him. Jason hid the alcohol in his room, knowing that Alfred rarely goes into his room and (Y/N) and Jason agreed to it.

The last time when (Y/N) got caught by Alfred, a shoe went flying past his head. There was yelling and Alfred threatened with something bigger. (Y/N) managed to duck just in time to get in his room where Jason was waiting.

#dc comics #dc x male reader #x male reader #batfamily #bruce wayne x male reader #jason todd x male reader #batman x male reader #red hood x male reader #damian wayne x male reader #robin x male reader #tim drake x male reader #red robin x male reader #nightwing x male reader #dick grayson x male reader

524 notes · View notes

almostgenerallyalways · 2 years ago

Text

mamas (don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys)

Pairing: Jake Seresin x fem!reader Category: angst / fluff / run-on sentences Word count: 3,1k CW: language, I’ve been to Texas once okay forgive me, divorce Author’s note: this was supposed to be a holiday fic but I got stuck on it and almost abandoned it, but here it is rescued from my drafts, shoutout to all the amazing tgm fic writers your writing truly astounds me

Summary: Every year around the holidays, you hear from your ex. This year when you don’t respond, he decides to show up at your door.

2022

Jake UT [November 23, 2022 at 10:24 PM]

Hey stranger

Visiting my mom for Thanksgiving

How’ve you been?

You ignore the message. How you’ve been in the last twelve months is not something you feel up to discussing with him.

You spend the next weeks dealing with crisis after crisis at work, leaning into the chaos like you have been all year. Your personal life? Garbage fire. Reconfiguring your entire pump setup two weeks before going to production, because the DoC slapped an import ban on one of your key suppliers in China? You’re on top of it.

But then, the week before Christmas, another message comes in:

Jake UT [December 17th, 2022 at 3:47 PM]

Hey

In town for the holidays

Would love to see you if you’re free

Brett welcome too, of course

A pang in your chest, but curiosity gets the better of you, so you text back:

Thanksgiving and Christmas? Judy must be thrilled.

You’ve met Jake’s mom all of one time, ten years ago, but she made a lasting impression. Fiercely protective of her only son, she’d been wary of you at first (you were, in order of importance: Too non-Texan, too vegetarian, and too focused on trying to rescue an almost-due group project for your sustainable water management class in which no one was pulling their weight).

And yet, over the Thanksgiving weekend you’d spent at Jake’s mother’s house in Colton, she’d slowly warmed up to you. You’d asked her endless questions about her job as a project manager at Austin-Bergstrom, and she’d poured you half glasses of wine (still exotic, to you, back then) at the kitchen island, shooing Jake back into the living room.

She’d even called you, after you guys broke up, to say she was sorry to hear it, and to tell you to call her up any time you needed someone to talk to. You’d tried your best to keep your voice even, not to break down in tears for the seventh time that day, and never called her again.

* * *

“Dude. Put your phone away for two minutes.”

Jake looks up apologetically at his friend, and pockets the device. “Sorry. Just expecting a text.”

Sandeep holds out his bottle of Lone Star, and Jake clinks it with his own. “It’s good to see you, man. Sorry I wasn’t around at Thanksgiving, we were visiting Jed’s family in NC. I didn’t expect you to be back so soon.”

Jake takes a swig of his beer, the cold liquid feeling like a balm to his throat. “Yeah, well. It’s been a big year, work-wise, so they owed me one. I wanted to spend some extra time with my mom.”

Bringing up his drink to toast again, Sandeep says: “Here’s to you, bud. And to getting that permanent assignment in California. At least we knew where to send our holiday card this year.”

Condensation drips down the neck of his bottle, and Jake spins it slowly in his hand, stopping himself from peeling off the label. He feels on edge, unmoored, despite this 6th Street dive bar being as familiar to him as the back of his own hand.

Sandeep’s got his number. “Seeing anyone else while you’re in town? I don’t know, Myers?”

Jake doesn’t look up, but feels his cheeks heat up fractionally.

His friend takes another swig of his beer. “I guess I should stop calling her Myers. You know, with the divorce and all.”

The bottle escapes Jake’s grip, and amber liquid sloshes across the table, into Sandeep’s lap. “Shit, Seresin! Grab some napkins, will you?”

* * *

2012

You’d always known there was an expiration date on this thing with Jake, which is why you’d been reluctant to meet his mom to begin with.

You wanted fundamentally different things. He, the Navy: Adventure, excitement, a chance to serve his country. You: Stability. A family. A place where you belonged.

Both of you: an opportunity to prove yourself.

It’s civil, as far as breakups go.

“You always knew I wanted to fly.” He says, over breakfast at Magnolia Café. There’s a hard set to his jaw that makes you soften in contrast, because of course you do, everyone who’s ever been near Jake Seresin for longer than ten minutes knows he’s always wanted to fly.

From your first date he told you about how Judy used to park him in her office at the airport when her summer childcare fell through; little Jake happily spending the day watching commercial jets taxiing and taking off in quick succession.

How her coworkers, the civilian engineers who’d stayed on after Bergstrom Air Force Base was decommissioned and commercialized, would regale him with stories about generations of F-4 Phantoms. Or the British Airways Concorde, one of only twenty of the ill-fated aircraft ever made, bringing the Queen to Austin in a little yellow hat. The Reconnaissance Air Meet bringing in the best fighter pilots from across all divisions of the military and abroad, to compete and show off their skills.

Jake would listen to them with stars in his eyes.

You pick at your migas, your appetite gone. “I know, Jake. I would never stop you.”

But you look at him, and you know your face mirrors his determination. “But I can’t come with you, Jake. I can’t start my career following you around from camp to base year to year. I’m forty-thousand dollars in debt getting this degree, and I need to follow my own plan.”

You haven’t moved in together, though Jake spends most of his nights at your tiny off-campus apartment, where you’ve made him countless cups of black coffee trying to fuel weekend study sessions. Where he would come in past midnight, back from the late shift at his part-time job at the H-E-B, and bury his face in your neck, waking you up even though you’d been asleep for hours. Where you would hold his sleeping head to your chest, his deep breathing somehow felt inside of you, and run your fingers up and down the bare skin of his back, trying to memorize him.

You’re twenty-two, you tell yourself. This is not the end of the world.

So you see him off at the front door, a box of his things clutched to his chest, and you force yourself to be strong. “You better be,” and you try to smile up at him, but you’re not sure you’re doing a convincing job, “You better be the best goddamn pilot the Navy has ever seen, Jake.”

For a second, he looks like he wants to say something, but then he just puts down the box, and pulls you into a last embrace. You sink into it, the fundamentally safe feeling of his arms around you, then make yourself pull away after a minute, pretending you don’t see the wet stains on his shirt.

Later you look at all the spaces in your apartment he is now conspicuously absent from (no dog-eared volume of Game of Thrones on the nightstand, no boots by the door), and it hits you then; the crevasse he’s left in your life. It may run deeper than you thought.

* * *

Jake had gone to Officer Candidate School in Rhode Island, then designator-specific training in Pensacola, Florida, and done his best not to think about you.

It helped that his days were intense and exhausting. It helped that, on liberty weekends, girls would flock to him and his friends in bars.

It helped to be several states away from you.

It helped to be living his dream.

* * *

There is a bit of a backslide, that first Thanksgiving after, where you both think it can’t hurt to see each other for one drink, for old time’s sake, which ends in him taking you up against the door in your new apartment, your legs wrapped around his waist because he does not have the willpower or presence of mind to figure out the way to your bedroom.

He knows it was a mistake, at about five AM the next day, when the blue light of morning starts streaming through a gap in the curtains, illuminating your tousled hair fanned out over the pillow, the steady rise and fall of your chest so familiar to him he could cry.

Untangling himself from you hurts, and he does perhaps the most cowardly thing he ever will: he sneaks out before you wake up. But next week he’s shipping out, and the thought of the same dead-end conversation over coffee made just the way he likes it is unbearable, so he makes himself walk away.

Somehow it’s worse, the second time around.

* * *

You’d met someone else, like he’d known you would. He sees the engagement announcement on Facebook, browsing on his phone between drills, and likes the post. It’s the third year he’s been away, and he’s at TOPGUN by then, so he has a lot on his mind. He has a girlfriend, even, a local: cute as a button, beats him savagely at pool.

It doesn’t fully hit him until the first time he sees you with your then-fiancé, at a little holiday reunion of college friends. He sees you with that ring on your finger, another man’s arm around your shoulders, and he gets an acute sense of the alternate reality that could’ve been his.

It feels a little like losing altitude too fast.

Your initial reception of him is understandably frosty, but you seem too genuinely happy to hold a grudge. By the third round, when he sidles up to you at the bar, you give him a quick hug, looking up at him with a smile that squeezes his heart: “I’m so proud of you, Jake.”

He nods, not quite trusting himself to speak, and pulls you back in, just for a moment, tucking your head under his chin. You smell like apple and magnolia, like nights spent with his nose pressed into your back.

You don’t invite him to the wedding, and he’s all too glad not to have to make up an excuse not to go.

* * *

Things settle, after that. Jake gets deployed and reassigned, breaks up with his girlfriend and eventually gets another. You get promoted to senior engineer, then project lead. You see each other, not every year but close enough, sometimes with your husband there, sometimes without.

He braces himself for the next Facebook post; that you’re pregnant, but it never comes. Over time, even that seems to lose some of its potential emotional impact on him.

Until three weeks ago, when you don’t text him back.

* * *

2022

You kick your shoes off in the entryway, then head into the kitchen to pour a glass of water. Before you can reach the tap, the doorbell rings, and for a second you think somehow, some way, your terrible Bumble date has followed you home.

Grabbing the biggest kitchen knife you own off the magnet strip over the sink, just in case, you creep back to the door, barefoot, to press your face up to the peephole.

You don’t really expect to see the guy you just left, the ice in your glass not even melted before you were thinking up excuses to get out of there, but you sure as fuck don’t expect to see Jake either.

The door feels heavier than usual as you slowly slide it open, or maybe you’re just a little stunned. The night air hits your skin, and you can make out the sound of dogs barking in the distance.

For a long moment, Jake just looks at you, but then he says: “What were you planning on doing with that, sweetheart?”

You follow the jut of his chin down the line of your arm, and contemplate the knife for a second, Jake’s sudden appearance having made you forget all about it.

“I thought someone might have followed me here.”

“Ah.” He says, a spark in his eyes, clearly suppressing a smile. “If you were going to defend yourself in hand-to-hand combat, a knife is a terrible choice. I could give you some tips, though.”

Putting the damn thing down on your entryway console, you turn back to look at him. It’s not cold, exactly, in December in South Central Austin, but he looks underdressed: a long-sleeved light grey t-shirt, hands shoved in the pockets of a faded pair of jeans.

He looks good, you can’t deny it: he’s always had an immediate effect on you.

Jake, your somewhat gangly, sweet college boyfriend had it. Jake, ten years of military training later: older, filled out, fine crinkly lines starting to appear at the corners of his eyes (helped along by the California sun and God knows what far-off places), irrevocably still does.

You shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts. “What are you doing here, Jake?”

At that, his expression sobers, and he looks at you for a long moment before he says:

“You didn’t tell me.”

* * *

Fucking Sandeep, you think, rubbing the back of your hand across your eyes, because that fucker has not been subtle with the hints lately, tutting like a Victorian matron while you pass the time evaluating your Bumble matches with his husband during Monday night football’s ad breaks.

The granite of your kitchen countertop feels reassuringly cool beneath your thighs, and you take a deep breath, keeping your eyes on the tile below:

“I wasn’t ready.”

Jake huffs, or so you assume by the little sound that escapes him, as you determinedly face only his sneakers: “It’s been a year. You sure told everyone else we know.”

That makes your head snap up, emotion rising in your chest in a way you don’t like, have always had to tamp down when it comes to him, these last ten years. “Fuck off, Jake. You know it’s different when it comes to you.”

He leans back against the fridge, arms folded, just slightly lifting his right eyebrow at you in that irritating way of his: “I could’ve been there for you.”

Fuck it, you think, all cards on the table then. “I was heartbroken, and embarrassed, and trying to figure out how to exist on my own again after being married for five years to someone who didn’t turn out to be who I thought he was, Jake. Sorry my first impulse wasn’t to come cry on my hometown hero ex-boyfriend’s shoulder.”

His eyes soften, and he pushes off the fridge to come stand next to you, running his fingers over the edge of the countertop. “I’m sorry,” he says, voice quieter than a moment ago. “I’m being a dick. It’s just, you have to know, I would’ve been there for you.”

He pauses for a second, takes a deep breath: “It’s always been different when it comes to you too, sweetheart.”

You start to shake, a little, or maybe it’s your imagination. But your voice wavers as you say his name, everything about your tone a warning: “Jake.”

He closes his eyes, shakes his head: “Our timing sucked, and I don’t regret our decision from back then. I’m proud of who I’ve become in the last ten years, and I’m proud of you. You think I don’t keep up with what you’re doing? The articles you’ve published?”

This stuns you, momentarily. “No, Jake Seresin. If I’m completely honest, I didn’t think you gave a shit about the latest advances in Texas drought management.”

Just being near him, the familiar smell of him bringing up memories you’ve had years to unsuccessfully repress, is overpowering.

He makes it worse by turning to you, face so goddamn heartbreakingly earnest as he says: “I couldn’t give you what you deserved, ten years ago, but I always told myself, if I was ever in a position to…” He swallows. “I tried to forget about it when you got married, I tried to root for you and Brett, I swear.”

His hand settles next to your thigh, not quite touching, and your hand comes down on its own accord to cover his. He straightens almost imperceptibly, uses his other palm to wipe a tear that’s made its way down your cheek.

Cupping your face, he draws a deep breath. “I have a permanent assignment now, in San Diego. I know it’s…”

“Jake.” You interrupt, squeezing your eyes shut, grabbing the hem of his shirt. “I’m not remotely the same person I was back then.”

He moves to stand in front of you now, and you draw him in between your thighs. Suddenly it seems imperative that you feel him, that he holds you.

Dipping his head to yours, you can hear the smile in his voice, watery, tentative: “Then let me get to know you again. Get to know me again.” He leans one hand on the counter, the other tracing your cheekbone. “No pressure. I’m totally very cool about this. Whatever you want.”

You laugh, a little choked up through tears, but genuine. It feels liberating. “What if I say yes? How does this work?”

His smile broadens, eyes crinkling at the corners, and he’s so goddamn close, nudging your nose with his. “Come visit me, for a start. I’ll show you the sights.”

You draw him in a little closer still, legs wrapping around his waist, one hand finding its way into his close-cropped hair, and you could cry for how familiar he still feels after all these years.

But when you close the gap between your lips and his, it’s like coming home and yet not at all: he’s different and rougher and sharper and it floods you with emotion, something big and terrifying and old and new.

He leans into the kiss, grinning, cards his fingers through your hair before he moves to cover your chin, your brow, the space next to your ear with kisses, and you remember this with a jolt to your heart – how singularly intense it is to be the focus of Jake Seresin, like the strength of the sun is aimed at you, how he never does anything by halves.

You take his chin in your hand, kiss him again for good measure, before saying, into the stubble of his jaw: “One visit. No pressure.”

The grin he gives you in return could power half this city: “One visit. No pressure.”

He dips his head to yours again, kissing the skin behind your ear as he tells you: “Southern California has a lot of drought problems, you know. I’ve actually been reading some really scary articles about it.”

i hope you enjoyed :):) - if you liked this I hope you’ll check out some of my other work:

where the wild things are (rooster x reader)

cross my heart (hangman x reader) masterlist

#tgm fic #tgm fanfiction #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x you #top gun maverick fic #why am i like this i stg

2K notes · View notes

pearlywritings · 1 year ago

Text

Your bed is enough

synopsis: after experiencing a not so nice day at work, Diluc decides to stay at your place tonight

prompt: 27

requested by: @bobaboob

pairing: Diluc x fem!reader

tw: pure fluff, domestic moment, established relationship (you are engaged)

word count: 1.2k+ words

a/n: check my Token of appreciation writing event!

It feels like hours have passed since the moment Diluc put the key from the tavern in his jacket’s pocket and took your inviting hand to follow you home. Though home in your and his case could mean two places - either the winery, where he offered you to move in with him a couple of months ago, which with the recent engagement feels absolutely right, or your apartment, situated in the city itself.

And tonight it’s the latter.

Diluc rarely complained and even more rarely he complained out loud, but the evening was worse than he could ever remember. Nothing functioned right - both Charles and a couple of waitresses had fallen sick the day before (he’s gonna find and strangle that merchant from Inazuma who’d offered them, as it turned out, expired snacks from his land), the number of patrons was surprisingly and almost overwhelmingly high, some barrels came with broken taps and he’ll have to deal with extra work tomorrow both with the casks’s supplier and the workers who missed the defect… Oh, and then one of the drunkards must’ve been in such a stupefied haze that he mistook the red-haired male with someone and intentionally spilled a bottle of wine all over his already messy uniform, blaming him for seducing his wife and taking her away from him. The Ragnvindr nearly exploded back then, and the man was out of the door before he could realize who’d he just offended.

You got it - the evening was horrendous.

And even now, in a bath, in your oh so familiar bathroom, in the comfort of your - now also shared - living space, with you getting ready for bed on the other side of the door, he can’t shake off that exhaustion that enveloped him like a heavy cocoon. Hopefully he’ll manage to scrub the smell of alcohol off of him at least.

When he emerges into the bedroom with a towel on his head and some loose sleeping pants sitting low on his hips, he finds you standing in front of your bed, already dressed for sleep, and staring at the piece of furniture with utmost concentration. There is a line between your brows, your pretty lips are pursed and arms crossed. In his eyes even this looks ethereal - if that’s one of the views he’s going to witness once you become his wife - getting to see you focused and serious while helping the winery owner with his work affairs, - then he wants to marry you as soon as possible. He really can’t wait to add another ring to that beautifully crafted engagement one on your finger.

Forcing himself out of his blissful dreams and deciding to finally ask what brought you to such a state, Diluc makes his presence known with a polite cough. You immediately whip your head in his direction, and the previous signs of your brooding are gone, replaced with a soft smile and a bright glimmer in those eyes he loves so much.

“Oh, you are out already,” uncrossing your arms, you make a step closer and he does the same, until you two are standing in front of each other and your hands reach to the towel. “Are you feeling better, dear?”

“Somewhat,” he answers honestly, lowering his eyelids, letting you wipe the heavy mass of his hair dry. “Do I still smell of alcohol?”

“Hmm…” You move your face even closer, sniffing air close to his chest. “No, I don’t smell any. Oh wait, how about here…” and you shamelessly press your face into his neck, making the man shudder and open his eyes. You caught him off guard and shook him out of his drowsy state.

“My flame?” He feels your hands still in his hair and you softly giggle, tickling the sensitive skin even more.

“What?” Is muffled against his shoulder and Diluc shakes his head. But there is a slip of an adorning smile and he can practically feel some weight of the evening disappear.

“Nothing, my dear. If you haven’t suffocated yet, then there is none.”

You plant a kiss where his neck and shoulder connect and draw your face away, tugging the towel and completely dragging it off of his head. Ah, here it is, the bright grin he loves so much and readily mirrors in response.

“Yeah, there is none. Only an amazing smell of my body wash. Now you smell like me.”

“And I am honored,” he says sincerely, to which you happily hum, disappearing in the bathroom and reappearing only a moment after. “But I can’t help but wonder what got you so deep in thought?”

At first you raise a brow at him, but when he motions to the bed it clicks, and you hum, long and thoughtful.

“Oh, nothing, really. I was just thinking that maybe I should get a new bed. You know, enough to fit two people?”

Ah, that’s what it was about. Admittedly, Diluc is a big man - both tall and muscular, and you have only a one-person’s bed, which he alone could take over completely if lying sprawled. He knows he could always take the couch, but in those few times he stayed at your place, you insisted on sleeping together. And those closely tight embraces under the same blanket are ones of the fondest memories the redhead possesses.

“You know, we could redecorate this place a little and use it more frequently when one of us doesn’t have enough strength to go all the way to the winery. And the bed could be the first step.”

“Is your bed cramped when we sleep together?”

He is as surprised as you are when the question hangs in the air - he didn’t expect it to just burst out of his mouth. However, he also doesn’t want to let go of this tight, but so comforting space just yet - admittedly, it gives him some indescribable sense of completeness.

You stare at him silently, as if trying to guess what he’s thinking about and what answer he expects. But nothing is better than the truth itself.

“It is,” crimson eyes widen slightly and are immediately cast down. Not letting him dwell long on whatever he’s already imagined in his head, you step closer, touching his scarred forearm, gently gliding your fingertips over the skin, asking for his attention. And when he gives you just that, Diluc sees a reassuring smile. “In the good way.”

You chuckle softly when he releases a sigh of relief, and reach to cup his cheek, feeling your heart skip a beat when he leans into your open palm.

“But I am worried that you are uncomfortable. I see how much you love to stretch in the morning while in bed at the winery, and there is not enough space in my bed. And I can be in the way of your outstretched arm-”

“You are never in the way,” the words are firm and the dancing flame in the depths of his eyes is proof enough. “You are right by my side. And that’s why it’s perfect.”

“Oh, you…”

With the trilling laughter you let him fall onto his back, landing on the soft mattress, and draw your body right on top of his. Your chemise rides up, bearing your thighs, and rough fingers don’t wait long to dig into plush skin. You stare down at him, with palms firmly planted on his wide chest, feeling the steadily beating heart under the fingertips, relishing in the appreciative look he is giving you. And for all of that and so much more your bed is perfect, because it's enough.

#pearlywritings appreciation event #token of appreciation #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #diluc x reader #diluc x fem!reader #diluc ragnivindr x reader #diluc ragnvindr #genshin impact fluff

466 notes · View notes

redsrooftopprincess · 3 months ago

Text

Drugs HCs

Warnings: alcohol, marijuana, pills, nicotine

@ninnosaurus inspired me, so here's a few headcanons about the boys relationships to intoxicants.

Leo

Alcohol.

Doesn't drink much. A cup of sake with Dad on special occasions, and occasionally he'll have a glass of wine with April if he's over at their apartment, but it slows him down and makes him feel like too many things are out of his control.

Nicotine.

Keeps a pack of cigarettes squirreled away in a hollowed out brick on the roof of the garage. Occasionally, he'll stay out late on patrol and smoke while watching the sunrise before heading inside. Raphael will sometimes join him, especially when they're trying to work something out, either interpersonally or with a mission. Don and Mikey don't know.

Marijuana.

Never. It dulls his senses and makes him slow, sending his anxiety through the roof. Paranoia is a real problem when he smokes weed, so he just doesn't. He also HATES the smell.

Other/Misc.

Used to look at addicts with contempt as weak and lazy, until he got stuck by a needle while stopping a mugging. He never found out what was in that needle, and he wishes he could forget what it felt like, because there's a part of him that would hunt down every dealer in the city to feel that way again. Now he makes a point to drop addicts off in front of rehab facilities instead of police stations.

Raph

Alcohol.

He'll drink pretty much whatever. When given the choice, he's a whiskey guy. Usually neat unless he's got company.

Nicotine.

Had a pretty bad habit as a teen, gave Leo his first cigarette, but has since kicked it. Occasionally he'll have a cigarette with Leo before bed or by himself after a particularly satisfying ass-kicking, but it's by no means a habit.

Marijuana.

Hell. Yes. You mean he *doesn't* have to be in a fuckton of pain, *and* he can get his mind to shut the fuck up for a little while? He doesn't get to do it often, but he'll smoke if he has a night off, or he'll head down the south tunnels and smoke with Mikey if he notices little bro's depression is getting the best of him. He's not shy about smoking in his room. Especially if he's trying to annoy Leo.

Other/Misc.

The healthist of the four when it comes to substances. As a teen, he had a minor substance problem, but he grew out of that. Tried pills once, hoping they would help with his pain, and ended up puking in the bathroom for three hours. He decided the pain was better. Also takes a LOT for anything to effect him.

Donnie

Alcohol.

Microbrews. He makes his own.

Nicotine.

Occasionally. He'll bum one off Raph when he's really stressed out.

Marijuana.

He and Mikey are working on developing a strain that is strong enough for them to not have to smoke an entire bowl, it's more of a brotherly pet project than anything else. He has to test each batch to keep records, of course. Beyond that, he'll occasionally smoke in the lab when he wants to get more creative than logical with what he's working on.

Other/Misc.

Adderall. RARELY, but he keeps a bottle in the lab. He hates the crash, but sometimes his brain just wants to focus on too many things at once, and he needs to work on something important.

Mikey

Alcohol.

Keeps a bottle of Jameson in his room for the nights when his depression is just too loud, so he can drink himself unconscious. It usually takes more than the bottle. Sometimes he's tired enough that he gets lucky. Outside of that he drinks occasionally, but really doesn't like the taste.

Nicotine.

Hates the taste of cigarettes, but owns a hooka and has a great shisha supplier on tap. Will occasionally host hookah sessions with appetizers and drinks when he's feeling super social. Even Splinter joins them occasionally.

Marijuana.

Yes.

Other/Misc.

Has, by far, the most unhealthy relationship with substances and has tried most of the party drugs out there. However, he's got hard limits on the harder drugs. LSD is by far his favorite, but he only takes it once every couple of months.

Bonus! Splinter

Alcohol.

Sake on special occasions, but he really likes this fizzy lemonade drink Michaelangelo handed him once while at a party. Occasionally one happens to appear in, and then disappear from, the refrigerator. The boys don't ask questions.

Nicotine.

Cigarettes are a hard no. The smell sticks to his fur and he hates it. If the boys smoke he makes them shower as soon as they come inside. He will, however smoke hookah with company when he's feeling up to it.

Marijuana.

Mikey convinced him to try it for his arthritis. He smokes in the evening before bed. Leo doesn't say anything.

Other/Misc.

He knows. Of course he knows. However, he only recently discovered Michelangelo's drinking problem. He is currently meditating on the best way to approach him about it.

...

Tag list:

@thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch @fyreball66 @ninnosaurus @tmntngl @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @zagreustomb @ramielll @silverwatergalaxy @gornackeaterofworlds @footninja

#TMNT #teenage mutant ninja turtles #headcanons #cw: drugs #TMNT Leonardo #TMNT Raphael #TMNT Donatello #TMNT Michaelangelo

117 notes · View notes

pinkhairedlily · 7 months ago

Text

"sakura, good morning!" shizune waves her over and gives her coffee.

"busy day huh." most days, she's thankful the hospital staff already knows her preferred brew—dark, hot, bitter.

"you wouldn't believe what just happened though." shizune sips her iced latte. "sasuke asked for your schedule."

sakura takes a beat to reply, savoring instead the aromatic notes that slowly wake her 18-hour-shift-riddled senses. "oh yeah. we agreed to discuss new chore arrangements."

"you're living together."

"he's sleeping over."

"living. together."

"should i blush?" sakura winces. "besides, it has only been a few months. well, a year."

shizune slaps her back and leaves in a giddy. "you're already blushing, lover girl."

===

"hey thanks for dropping these off." naruto grins at her through towering stacks of folders.

"we really should organize a courier system or tap into those digital things gaara has been using in suna."

"totally agree with you." he hands her a chocolate bar. for a few minutes, they pass the sugar supply back and forth, grateful for the silence and the little indulgent treat from olden days.

"by the way, sasuke has been asking some weird things."

"such as?"

"like your favorite color, favorite food, favorite music." naruto gets the last chocolate cube. he cracks it into uneven halves and gives the smaller one to her, as usual. "so i told him mine are red and shoyu ramen."

sakura laughs and pops the piece into her mouth. "back to work, future hokage-san."

===

"where's ino?"

sai hands her an apron and an order slip. sakura releases a petulant sigh, rolls her eyes, and begins to pick the flowers listed. she waits until sai settles on the presentation and prods again.

"supplier issue." he shows her a peony and a carnation.

"the peony definitely."

sai shrugs and finishes off the bouquet. "we had a curious customer earlier."

"hmm?"

"sasuke came in. he said he didn't want reds. it would be too obvious, he said. so i suggested whites."

"mums?"

"uh-uh and roses and lilies."

sakura turns pensive at this. "he must have bought them for his family." she smiles at sai and pats him on the shoulder. "you're sometimes kind-hearted, aren't you?"

sai's fixed smile fades. "sakura, he didn't—"

a customer dings the bell and sakura, already sensing sai's intention, slips out of the boutique like a true swift kunoichi.

===

"haruno-san."

"yes, i know it's midnight and i need to go home."

the guard loiters by her door. "actually, you have a visitor. he's at the wisteria arch."

"oh? but it's so late. can't this wait until morning?"

"it's the uchiha ma'am," the guard purses his lips, "he's been camping since eight in the evening."

sakura runs. she hates running in corridors, particularly when half of the people are asleep, but she manages to reach the grounds without an ambush diagnostic or a surprise checkup.

sasuke is waiting. there is a picnic blanket in a hideous shade of bright red under him, a basket, a bouquet, a bottle of wine that must be lukewarm by now.

"shizune said you were free tonight," he said.

"what's all this for?" sakura has to catch her breath. she sits across him and takes him in. gorgeous, even under the pale moonlight.

"i never got the right answers." sasuke pulls every item out of the basket. thermos for hot water, instant ramen packs, dango, a lunchbox that smells like curry, spring rolls. "i don't know exactly what you like. i don't know if you still like the food that you liked when we were kids."

"i still have a sweet tooth," sakura chuckles as she reaches for the dango.

"but i noticed you always ask me to cook curry and you never fail to look for spring rolls."

"because you cook curry the best, sasuke-kun, that's why i love it the most."

he avoids her chiding glance and hands her instead the bunch of daffodils. "i also don't know if you still like these flowers. you would pick them up in the forest, remember? trying to make me and naruto and kakashi wear these crowns of yellow blooms."

sakura laughs at the surfacing memories. "they're very beautiful, sasuke-kun." she basks for a while in the afterglow of his awkward yet patient persistence as he scoots closer to her side and slowly brushes her fingers against his in reacquaintance.

"what's with all these though? what did i miss?" sakura entangles their hands together, his thumb caressing her knuckles.

"happy anniversary."

"..."

"fuck."

"not here sakura."

"i forgot about it! fuck!"

"it's okay, let me." sasuke plants her down with a hand on her cheek. "you're busy, and there are few things in life i look forward in celebrating."

"i'm so sorry."

"i think it's me who has to apologize. i haven't nailed down everything."

"well, we've got the rest of our lives to figure that out."

sasuke hides a smile. "that's a plan."

#sasusaku #haruno sakura #uchiha sasuke #sakura x sasuke #sakura #sasuke #sssnippetaday #snippet!pinkhairedlily #team 7 #team 7 shenanigans

70 notes · View notes

sw33tsnow · 8 months ago

Text

Marijuana

Mafia!Price x Bartender!GN!Reader (18+)

Summary: With the same age and the dexterity of a bartender, it's hard to find anyone to replace your compatibility with John.

Warning: NOT FOR MINORS, unedited, slow-burn, tension, mentions of violence, mentions of humiliation (towards reader, obv not from John), mentions of blood, non intrusion sex, marking, nipples play, ice kink, dry-humping, etc. Word count: 2k3

NOTE(s):

I'M TERRIBLY APOLOGIZE FOR ANY GRAMMAR ERRS.

Forgive me if this one is quite rush, iluvu.

Another busy night had come to an end, and you were standing behind the bar with your tie loosened, your body swaying slightly to the melodic jazz music still playing from the player. The dim lighting of the pub, combined with its subterranean setting, adds to the gloominess of the surroundings. You wiped the glass then placed it on the shelf behind and took a look around, there were still a few waiters cleaning, so you sighed and threw your black towel over your shoulder. Rubbing your eyes, you believed the night would finish like this after checking the locks and leaving last after those employees, but the familiar ding of the elevator indicated that the road to your bed was much further out of sight, apparently.

John would come in exhausted, just as he did every night after the pub closed, and have a drink to help ease himself. Tonight was no exception, with his somewhat disheveled brown hair and a bulky coat with the layer of snow lingering on the collar revealed that he had just returned from a business visit. Throwing the pistol on the expensive oak surface and sitting down on the leather-covered barstool, John stroked his hair a few times and grinned up at you, a smile that you found charming because of the crow's feet on the corners of his eyes were visibly displayed.

"Evenin', love" The man began, sounding drained with a rasp in his voice.

"Tired day, I guess?" You asked, your arms resting on the lower counter in front of you compared to his as you leaned ever so little towards him.

"Oh no, pistol 's still cold, bet Marley will be very pleased seeing no stubborn impurities on my shirt t'day" John's butler, Marley, she'd been working in his mansion for over ten years so far. There was a time when you were lucky enough to hear the brunet grumble about how he was scolded by that butler for something related to laundry.

You pursed your lips but weren't able to muffle your small laugh, and that made John chuckled too. Given your similar ages, it is likely that you two get along well because you effortlessly understand one another's thoughts.

"What about you?" The man's brows raised.

Without rushing to respond, you strolled over to retrieve John's preferred bottle of Bourbon and poured it into a glass for him. Pushing the glass forward so that John could take it promptly, you set the wine down next to the brunet, and started engaging in conversation.

That way, the two of you can sit and chat for hours on end without worrying that the other will get weary of listening to what people might consider idle banter. As the dong struck precisely one-thirty in the morning, the personnel had dwindled, well, time had gone by quickly. To be honest, you had forgotten your fatigue as soon as you saw John enter the pub, and when he spoke with you for an hour, you assumed he felt the same way. Even while it appears that your relationship is obviously unsuitable for your positions.

John's bars used to consistently import alcohol from your supplier. Naturally, there is no need to discuss the quality of your booze, and in exchange, the brunet must handle shipment and a few necessary circulation documents on your behalf. You had one rule: you wouldn't engage in any major illegal activities but your appearance at John's pub was the complete opposite of what you claimed, which startled a lot of your mutual friends. The truth is that it's a covert promise between you and the man since John had to take charge and make all the arrangements in order to secure your safety after many inquiries strayed into your business under the permission of the authority. Initially, you were rather irritated considering the two tall men who were sent to inform you were too stern while the other had an excessively humorous demeanor. However, you complied with their instructions with perfect obedience, knowing it was John who gave them orders.

Being friends for long before, you two grew even closer and everyone in this place took it for granted that the man went to the pub every night to keep you company was a regular occurrence. Additionally, even though John never smokes marijuana, the lingering odour of cigars that permeates your nose whenever John shows up and the scent of your perfume on the brunet's jacket were enough to turn you two into addicts to each other.

“And don't forget ‘bout my friends stopping by tomorrow” Quickly downing the remaining wine, the brunet stood up and reminded you about the appointment the following day.

You gave a modest smile, nodded, and bided your time until the towering back vanished from your sight. An ugly grimace appeared on your visage, John only informed you about these visits when the guests brought companions, in which case you believed it would either be prostitutes who were getting massive lavished or the sons who were so full of themselves. The success of those negotiations also hinges on how you handle these problematic clients. Anyway, you remind yourself, this wasn't something you had to deal with once or twice, only prayed that things wouldn't get out of hand.

_-_-_-_-_-_

Your head was already pounding with the volume of conversations being turned into screams surrounding you, let alone the sound of digital music seemed to be teasing every nerve of yours. And how wonderful your uniform consisted of a white shirt, black trousers and a gile with a matching tie didn't do anything to assist you feel more comfy in this circumstance.

It turns out that you've landed in the unlucky box because first, the guests you had to greet were a bunch of punks who were already drunk before entering your pub and second, they refused to sit at any of the tables. They chose to line up in front of you with the reason that they want to be served wholeheartedly because the bartender at the previous shop they just visited was very unqualified. You swore that what ever the fuck in front of you was no different from a pornography scene, just lacking a cine-camera and a director. They sang, hugged, kissed and attended to do more repulsive acts than you could possibly list.

"Uhm, sir...you're not allowed to use that here"

The familiar smooth voice prompted you to open your eyes and turn around. A waitress held the tray tightly to her chest, standing behind one punk who was preparing for a puff of his marijuana and poked his shoulder to remind him. However, she was clueless that she had set off a fire anthill.

"Who the fuck are ya to give me orders?" He spoke with an unsober voice, obviously inebriated, and kicked the girl's leg. His accent scratched the back of your brain disgustingly, making you want to punched into his fucking big nose right at the moment.

You hurried over and motioned for the girl to enter the staff changing area, knowing full well that nothing would stop after that warning. Also unintentionally drew the prickly brat's attention to you.

"And who are you to dare to poke your nose into my business?"

Calmly smiled and explained to this dickhead that according to the boss's regulations, all types of stimulants are not allowed because this was an open pub, not underground like others which John owned. But this punk didn't even let you finish your sentences. He yanked you down by your tie and blew the weed's smoke in your face, laughing arrogantly and forcing you not to look away. A hit stench stuck straight to your lungs, hogged your vision and felt like the breath you took demands to be a lot deeper for it to feel enough.

Unable to bear it anymore, you had to turn away only to be stunned by the liquid that had been reduced to room temperature. Dripping from your damp hair, drops of the mesmerizing crimson sparkle of Cabernet Sauvignon spread across your white uniform shirt, revealing your skin beneath the vibrant neon colour lights.

Inhale deeply. After all, you should be thankful for this grace since your headache is completely gone. Maybe until the conclusion of the evening, your focus wouldn't be compromised. As long as John's negotiation proceeded without a hitch, just went along with this.

Clash.

Everyone's attention was drawn to your bar by the sound of the crystal glass shattering and the jerk's abrupt scream. Simon stood there, his thick gloved hand now drenched, staring at the dickhead who was laying on the ground clutching his bleeding head and still kept cursing.

"You should've watched where you are, kid" An unmistakably familiar voice which you didn't need a glance to confirm.

With the cigar between his lips, he removed his outer coat, passing it to Gaz, rolling up his sleeves and squatting down.

"Did your father ever tell you to consider your every action?"

John took grip of the jerk's hair and quickly hauled him back up after he had made himself clear. The brunet punched, then slammed his face into the floor. He dragged him, slowly, with each step to the front of your counter and threw him towards it. The torture, no, punishment was merciless. Not even the father willing to intervene, simply standing outside and shook his head in frustration.

As for you, you just stood there, stoically thanking Soap with the towel he offered you and blotting the alcohol from your wet hair as you watched John take out his rage on the newfound meat bag.

It was a good four minutes until the brunet was satisfied. His subordinates swiftly handed him a fresh rag to clean up the blood on his knuckles while he approached the father to end the terms of their discussion. Only to blame his dumbass of a son.

"Leave us" Was all John said.

Everyone left, Soap went in behind to tell the girl to get off work early.

"You...stay" Pointing at you, he demanded.

When it's just you and John, the brunet gave you his unwavering attention. And you knew without a doubt that you were going to be chastised, so all you did was bow your head and keep wiping your hair without looking up at the man who sat across the bar table from you.

This uncomfortable silence must have offended John, so he grunted, just enough for you to quit and fixed your gazes on him.

"You know it's not necessary, John...." You maintained your calmness.

John groaned and leaned in closer, "There's a limit to everything, and that muppet crossed the line, that's what he deserved."

"And yet behaving so childish,what will they bat around? You, the one and only John Price, beats the hell out of his party's son for a bartender?" You scowled, not willing to back down.

How hilarious it was for John to act like a teenager boy, knowing that it was too ridiculous for him to stand up for you in that situation. Even if he wasn't concerned about his reputation, you were.

John moved away from the wooden table, tossed the partially burned cigar into a random wine glass, circled the bar and approached you. He placed his hand on your neck, drawing you in but not using too much strength.

Ultimately, your lips crashed together, it's so sudden that you froze on your ground, letting him take control over everything including your body.

"A bartender, you say. 'll fuckin' show everyone what's this bartender meant to me, eh?" He snarled in your ear.

The brunet bent you down, hands roaming all over your entire body while his lips trailed hundreds of hot, wet kisses from your mouth, cheek, down to your jaw, shoulders, and chest. He’s so strong, pinning you down making your back laid flat on the counter, unable to escape from this unbreakable bear trap.

John was not rushed about this. He took his time, nibbled on every inch of your skin, leaving red and purple bruises from where his mouth swiped through. Like a predator marking his prey. And you were too stunned, couldn’t form a normal sentence to stop him and limps were so numbed that couldn’t hold him back. But you both knew, you’re not against this, you craved for him as much as he craved for you. So he didn’t slow down, only loosened his grip so that you’d be able to touch him for his, no, you pleasure, too.

“Fuck, John, wait….ah, s-slow down” You let out a breathy moan, nails digged into his back.

But of course he didn’t comply. Only tucked your nipple in and started lapping and twirling with his tongue, the other one was being taken care of by his thick fingers. Setting his leg between yours, rubbing, the brunet put more pressure to his knee and pressed it to the area between your legs. He groaned, sounded not so different from a starved animal.

And it’s almost so painful that you had to reach your hand to John's crotch and tried to ease him. Your movement was quite messy or clumsy somehow but you both were just way too horny to care. You groped him, squeezing it gently and moving your palm up and down his shaft.

"Bloody fuckin'...." John grunted out in frustration, eyes shut in denial.

Couldn’t hold it anymore, the man flipped you around, pulling your lower body stick to his. The swell of your ass to his hard-as-rock midsection and he kept you there, didn’t start moving yet. Reaching for the ice box on his right, John picked two small cubes out and held them to your aching nipples.

“Fuck, John, please no….I can’t” You almost cried out, feeling like breaking your neck just to look back at him.

And this man only responded you with a fucking mischievous smirk on his face.

Took a good handle on your hips, he began to move, rubbing his solid brother against your ass, between your thighs, filthy but tempting. The only audible noises were his grunts and you half crying half pleading tone. And stopped when you both released and panting heavily.

Taglist: @shadowlali , @ghostlythots , @brickwall035

33 notes · View notes

formulauno98 · 2 years ago

Text

Once Upon a Time in Brazil | Chapter Ten

The press could be a useful tool in your game, but it could also be your worst nightmare. Unfortunately, Brazil was to bring about the latter alongside another bump in the road.

Word Count: 8.6k

Warnings: Spice is back. Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it guys and girls) 🌶 Possible pregnancy

Author’s Notes: Disclaimer, purely fiction, no-one is married in this alt-universe.

TUESDAY PM

In the run-up to the Brazillian Grand Prix, you’d spent a week back in the UK and were now in Miami for a few days, working on a sponsor event whilst Toto was in Los Angeles, meeting with a supplier. As ever, you felt like you were cursed to never be free from drama. Since your relationship had been outed, Lara had been on her best behaviour with you and had stopped with the sassy comments, however, it seemed as if it had all been a front.

Having travelled together on the jet from London, you had been dropped off in Miami on Tuesday afternoon, with Lara accompanying Toto alone on the plane between Miami and Los Angeles. It sounded simple enough but that’s when it all started to go pear-shaped.

Getting ready for the event and putting on your make-up in your luxurious hotel bathroom, your phone pinged, it was Toto.

Hi my love, I hope Miami is treating you well. We just got to LA, do you think it’s weird if I invite Lara to dinner? X

You’d replied, thinking it was harmless.

Hey, it’s gorgeous here, just getting ready for the event so nothing interesting, hope LA is fun.

Glad you got there safe and sound. I don’t think it’s weird, she’s by herself. X

You then didn’t hear from him before you left for the event and having been kept busy all evening, putting on your best charm offensive for the sponsor, you hadn’t had time to check your phone. By the time you were sliding into the backseat of the car that would take you back to your hotel, it was late and when you checked your phone you started to panic. Five missed calls from Toto, all within a few minutes of one another.

Worried, you’d immediately called him back but it had rang through to voicemail. It wasn’t until you’d gotten back to your room that a text pinged through.

Call me when you can, I know you are busy but this is serious.

It wasn’t like Toto to panic and it made you feel uneasy. Picking up your phone and dialling his number, he must have been waiting for your call as he picked up on the first ring.

“Y/N.” he said, his voice strained, “I’m so sorry.”

“Hey Toto, what’s wrong?” you asked, trying to hide the worry in your voice.

“I don’t know where to start,” he said, his voice slightly crackly down the unstable connection, “Lara, she kissed me!”

Floored, you flopped down onto the sofa in your suite, “What?” you exclaimed.

“She kissed me!” he said, clearly freaking out.

“How? What?” you said.

“I invited her out to dinner and she came to meet me, all dressed up in next to nothing, and drank an entire bottle of wine to herself over dinner.” Toto said very quickly, “Then after we finished eating, she moved over to me, put her hand on my thigh and kissed me.”

Short of words, you managed a weak reply, “And did you let her?”

“Of course not!” said Toto, seemingly offended that you would imply that, “I didn’t know what to do. I threw her off, and then she started crying.”

“Fuck,” you said, rubbing your forehead. “What did you do?”

“Well by then half the restaurant was staring at us, so I put my arm around her and we left.”

“Toto!” you groaned, “How do you think that looks?”

“I know, but I didn’t know what to do!” he said exasperated. “I dropped her back to her room and she tried to pull me in.”

“Fuck, that’s wild.” you said, “Although I have to say, I’m not surprised. She’s always been so weird and protective of you.”

“I know,” he replied, sounding as if he was at the end of his tether. “I’m worried, there were photographers outside.”

“Fuck.” you said, “But I’m sure it will be fine, I’ll let Rosie know to keep an eye out.”

“Thank you. I am so sorry. I never thought she would do something like this. I thought she hated me because of the Ed incident.” he said.

“Hmm, I thought so too to be honest.” you said, “What are you going to do, report her to HR?”

“Honestly, I want to let her go asap but since we only have two races to go it seems silly.” Toto sounded defeated. It was a tricky situation, “I will talk to Pamela and see what she advises.”

“How about borrowing Sophie?” you asked, your assistant was well versed in managing your crazy schedule and since it was almost identical to Toto’s, it wouldn’t be a huge amount of extra work for her for the next three weeks.

“Do you think she would be up to the task?” asked Toto, “I want Lara gone asap, her behaviour was totally unacceptable.”

“Talk to Pamela, see what she says, maybe we can bump Sophie’s pay up this month for the extra workload?”

“Good idea.” he said, “I am so sorry.”

“Why are you apologising? It’s not like you slept with her.” you said, “You didn’t right?”

“God no!” said Toto.

“Well that’s that.” you said, “Where is she now?”

“I think back in her room,” said Toto.

“Fuck, I think you should call Pamela, it’s early in the UK but she’ll be up. You don’t want Lara coming on the jet with you to Brazil.”

“I don’t want her in Brazil at all,” said Toto miserably.

“Honestly what she did is sexual harassment, Toto, are you okay?” you asked, concerned.

“I know.” he said, “It’s so unacceptable.”

“When is your supplier meeting?” you asked.

“Tomorrow lunchtime.” he replied gloomily, “I will call Pamela now and sort this before.”

“Ok, let me know if I can help in any way,” you offered, “And I will call Rosie now.”

“I love you Y/N,” said Toto, still crackly on the dodgy line.

“I love you too,” you replied, “I’m so sorry for you, I’ll see you soon though.”

“See you,” he said before ringing off.

You’d never heard Toto sounding so dejected and it worried you massively. Sighing, you double-checked the time difference between Miami and the UK and seeing that it was quarter to eight in the morning, dialled Rosie.

“Morning Y/N, what’s up?” she answered almost immediately, sounding a little sleepy.

“Rosie, I am so sorry if I’m waking you up but we might have a PR disaster on our hands.”

Rosie groaned, “Good morning to you too. It’s okay, I was only snoozing.”

As you filled Rosie in on what had happened she was shocked but equally didn’t seem all that surprised.

“Right, so I will put out an alert on pap images of Toto, at least they weren’t at Craig's or somewhere,” she said, now wide awake.

“Thank you, Rosie, that’s true,” you said sighing, “I’m worried about him though, he’s shaken up.”

“Oof I would be too, Lara’s scary when she’s sober, I can’t imagine her trying to drunk kiss me.” said Rosie, ��Don’t panic though we can spin it if anything does come out.”

Just as you were about to reply, your phone started buzzing, “Thanks Rosie, I’ve got Toto trying to call me on the other line, I’ll let you go and keep me posted.”

“No worries will do,” she replied, hanging up to allow you to answer Toto’s call.

“Hey,” you said, trying to sound neutral and not panicked.

“Hi,” he said flatly, “I’ve spoken to Pamela, and she has arranged for Lara to return to the factory today. She’ll be flying commercial back to London and HR will let her know her contract is terminated.”

“Well that’s good news!” you said cheerily, “And what did they say about Sophie?”

“Pamela said we can share her, but you need to speak to her and check if she is comfortable with this.” Toto replied, “And as for Lara, the official line is that she is burnt out and needs to take some time off.”

“Okay,” you said, “That’s very generous of you, I’d be telling everybody.”

Toto sighed, “Until now she’s been an efficient assistant, I don’t want to ruin her career.”

“You’re much nicer than I am,” you said.

“I know,” he said, sounding slightly less glum.

“Ah there’s my cheeky guy,” you said.

“I try,” he replied, “Right, well I need to get some sleep, and you do too. I didn’t even ask you about the event. How was it?”

“All good, same old.” you replied, “You do need some sleep for sure, I will call Sophie now and let you know in the morning?”

“Okay, thank you Y/N.” he said, sounding down again, “I wish you were here.”

“I wish YOU were here!” you said, before adding, “I have a very large marble tub in my room, I think it might fit two.”

“Don’t tempt me,” said Toto, his voice low.

“I might have to, now I know women are throwing themselves at you,” you laughed.

“It’s not funny,” replied Toto, “Now you know how I feel.”

“What?” you said, in a more serious tone.

“Men are always checking you out,” he said.

“As if,” you snorted, surprised that Toto of all people was insecure.

“They do!” said Toto, “In Mexico, at the bar, the barmen were all staring.”

“That’s because they’re barmen,” you said bluntly, “Anyway, I’m not looking anywhere else and that’s what matters.”

“I hope so,” said Toto, “Right, now my eyes are heavy, you need to sleep too. I’ll call you in the morning.”

“Sounds good, love you.”

“I love you too, sweet dreams,” he replied sleepily.

“Night,” you said hanging up.

Getting up from the sofa, you made your way to the bathroom to take your make-up off as you’d rushed in and not moved since Toto had initially called you.

Putting your phone on speaker you called Sophie as you wiped off the evening’s grime, Miami was so humid you always felt a mess after a night out.

“Morning Y/N! How are you?” came Sophie’s voice.

“Morning Sophie, I’m so sorry to call you early but I have a favour to ask,” you said.

“No worries at all, I’m just getting ready for work,” she replied, “What can I do to help?”

“Well, unfortunately, Lara has had to take an unexpected leave of absence.” you started, choosing your words carefully, “This means Toto has no EA for the last two races. Would you be open to supporting him for the next three weeks? I have spoken to HR and if you are agreeable we can double your salary for the month.”

“Oh my goodness,” Sophie replied, “I hope Lara is okay, should I message her? But yes I would be more than happy to help.”

“It’s probably better that you don’t,” you replied, “She’s okay but needs some time away from the business. That’s great news that you’re up to the challenge, I will have HR draft a temporary contract for you.”

“Oh,” Sophie replied, “Sounds good, when do I start?”

“From Thursday if possible, Toto is in LA meeting with a supplier but he will be joining us in Brazil on Thursday. Pamela has access to his diary so will share this with you, but honestly, it’s almost the same as mine,” you explained.

“Great, then I will chat with Pamela today and see you both in Brazil on Thursday,” said Sophie cheerily.

“Thank you, Sophie, Toto will be thrilled.”

“Thanks, Y/N, have a nice evening.”

“Thanks, have a good day!” you said, rubbing your eyes wearily as you hung up. Were you ever going to catch a break?

WEDNESDAY AM

You were woken up the following morning to yet another phone call. As you sat up in bed and reached for your phone you saw it was Rosie.

“Morning,” you said wearily.

“Hey, I am so sorry if I woke you up,” Rosie said, “Photos have come out and a few articles, sending them now.”

“Fuck,” you said, going into the chat to open the links Rosie sent.

WOLFF IN SHEEPISH CLOTHING, FORMULA ONE TEAM BOSS CAUGHT OUT ON THE TOWN WITH ANOTHER YOUNG COLLEAGUE

The article painted Toto as a womaniser, preying on younger colleagues, there were photos of him with a scantily clad Lara draped around him exiting the restaurant, followed up by the photos of you kissing him on the riverbank.

You felt sick, this was a PR nightmare. The next one wasn’t much better.

WOLFF BY NAME, WOLFF BY NATURE. FORMULA ONE BILLIONAIRE PLAYBOY’S WILD NIGHT OUT

There were the same pictures, Lara falling over drunk, Toto with his arm around her.

“Fuck Rosie, this is really bad,” you said, leaning back onto your headboard.

“I know, I’m so sorry Y/N.” she replied, “What do we do?”

You took a deep breath, “I think we make a statement,” pausing to think, you added, “Although, is it not suspicious that paparazzi would know exactly where to find Toto on an unpublicised trip to LA?”

“I thought that,” said Rosie, “And the photos are super clear, they must have been waiting for him.”

“Do we know who took them?” you asked.

“No but I can find out,” Rosie said, determinedly.

“Yes, let’s find out before we make any statements.” you said before groaning, “Fuck Toto is going to be so upset.”

“I know.” said Rosie, “But honestly I think someone set this up.”

“I agree,” you said. “Right, I’m going to call Toto. Speak later.”

“Bye,” said Rosie.

Stealing yourself you hung up and dialled for Toto. It only rang for a short while before he picked up.

“Morning,” he said, sounding much more awake than you did, despite the fact he was three hours behind you.

“Morning, I hope you got some sleep in the end. I have some good news and some bad news, good news is Sophie has agreed to cover Lara for the next three weeks, the bad news is very bad.”

“Well that’s good.” said Toto flatly, “And what’s the bad news?”

Not sure how to broach the subject, “Now don’t go mad, but we have a slight PR disaster on hand.”

“Disaster?” Toto said, his voice raising a few octaves.

“Wellvenient.”

“Huh?” said Toto. “Fuck, the headline, the photos.”

“How would any paparazzi know you were in LA and that you were at that specific restaurant and be able to get photos that are so clear? Someone called them, and I would hazard a guess that it was Lara.”

“Fuck,” was all Toto seemed able to say.

“Indeed,” you replied, “Rosie is on it to find out who took the photos and we’ll get to the bottom of it.”

“Ok great.” said Toto sharply, “Fuck, I have to meet this supplier in an hour. What are they going to think of me? What are my kids going to think of me?”

“I’m sure they won’t have seen it.” you suggested, not entirely convinced yourself, “And if they have, you tell them the truth.”

Toto snorted, “They will never believe me.”

“Honestly Toto, your kids know you’re not like that and after spending two minutes with you the suppliers will know you’re not the type”

“I’m not sure if that is a compliment or not,” he replied dryly.

“It is, trust me.” you said, “Look, don’t panic, we’ll smooth things over and get to the bottom of it. I won’t allow Lara to ruin your reputation.”, there are a few articles about you and Lara and they’re not good. Frankly, they’re shit,” you said matter-of-factly.

“Scheiße.” was all you got from the other end of the phone, “Will you send them to me?”

“Sure,” you said, forwarding Rosie’s links, “But before you freak out, Rosie and I were discussing this and we think you’ve been set up. It’s all a little too con

“It’s not as simple as that.” said Toto cryptically, “I need to get ready, I had better go.”

“Me too,” you replied, “I hope it goes well, text me if you need anything.”

“Okay, bye,” he said, hanging up without giving you to chance to say goodbye back.

You’d barely managed to start getting dressed for the day when your phone rang once again. Shaking your head, you paused applying your make-up and made your way over to where your phone was on charge.

It was Rosie ringing you back, hoping for good news you picked up.

“Hey Rosie, did you find out?” you asked eagerly.

“Kind of.” she said, “I’m sending you another link, there’s another article.”

“Good or bad?” you asked as you went back into the chat.

“Not the best, but I think it answers who was behind this. It’s a smear campaign.” Rosie said.

Reading the headline your eyes widened, SCANDAL IN THE PADDOCK: WOLFF SENDS GLAMOROUS YOUNG MISTRESS PACKING. LARA ASHTON, 25, LET GO FROM MERCEDES IN WAKE OF WOLFF AFFAIR.

“What the fuck?” you said, scrolling down through the article and accompanying twenty-something images of a tearful-looking Lara exiting Heathrow airport with her suitcase.

“I know.” said Rosie, “It has to be Lara, not being funny, no one even knows who she is.”

“I am going to kill her,” you said, your blood boiling. You disliked her on the best of days but now that she was trying to ruin Toto’s reputation you were livid.

“I know.” said Rosie, reassuringly, “I want to too.”

“What the hell do we do? This looks terrible,” you said, musing about what the best course of action was.

“I was hoping you would have some ideas,” said Rosie quietly, “In my opinion, we have to release a statement now.”

“I agree,” you said, “Fuck, Toto is going to be mortified.”

“Well the only good thing is, it’s Brazil in two days, this will get buried by the press surrounding the race,” said Rosie, hopefully.

“That’s true,” you pondered, “Although he’s in the Team Principal press conference on Friday. Christian will almost certainly bring this up. He takes any opportunity to embarrass or belittle Toto.”

“Ugh, I hate that man,” said Rosie. “Okay, so the Daily Mail are requesting a comment from Toto, should I entertain them.”

“I think yes,” you said, “Let me talk to Toto first though.”

WEDNESDAY PM

Having known that Toto was at the supplier lunch and you having had a meeting to attend, the wait to chat with him was agonizing. It didn’t help that people were texting you sympathetic messages as the story broke, thinking that Toto had cheated on you. You hadn’t replied to anyone yet but would do the rounds once you’d spoken to Toto.

When five o’clock came, you dropped him a text.

Hey, can I call you?

Almost instantaneously your phone pinged with a reply.

Yes, I’ve seen the latest article.

Fuck, you thought. Punching in Toto’s contact you waited with bated breath for him to pick up.

“Hello,” he said very sharply, not a hint of his usual charm present.

“Hi,” you said, “So you’ve seen it. It has to be Lara behind this, who the fuck even knows she exists outside of the paddock?”

“I know.” he said, “I’m angry at myself, why did I invite her to dinner?”

“Because it’s a normal thing to do and you’re a nice person. It’s not your fault she’s a psychopath.”

Toto was quiet on the other end of the phone, “What do we do?”

“I’ve spoken to Rosie and we think it is wise to release a statement.”

“Ok, saying what?”

“Saying that it was a mutual decision for her to take some time off after yesterday’s evening’s events as alcohol/drug abuse is strictly against company policy. We can spin it that you were concerned for her mental health and want her to focus on getting better.”

“And you think people will buy that?” asked Toto, not convinced.

“I can’t think of any other way to phrase it.” you said, “Brazil is happening in two days and quite frankly this sweeps it under the rug and shifts focus to the race.”

“That’s true. I just don’t understand why she would do something like this.” Toto said, at a loss for words.

“Me neither, I know she harboured a grudge over the Ed situation but this is an extreme way of getting revenge, unless…”

“Unless what?” Toto interjected.

“Unless someone has paid her off. Someone who was threatened by your threat of telling his wife about his mistress.”

“No, surely not.” said Toto, “He is an idiot but he wouldn’t go that far.”

“Hmm.” you said, “I think he would, I am going to request access to Lara’s phone and emails.”

“Can we do that?” asked Toto.

“Well how is Sophie supposed to do her job without access?” you said. “I’m going to call Pamela.”

“It’s worth a try.” said Toto sadly, “Look I don’t want to stay in LA now, I am going to come to you this evening and then we can fly to Brazil together tomorrow.”

“Of course, obviously I would prefer happier circumstances but I’ve missed you,” you said.

“I’ve missed you too, one day apart and I get myself in this mess.”

“It’s not your doing and realistically it was only a matter of time.”

“I suppose,” he said, “Okay, well I am going to pack and I’ll see you later. I love you.”

“I love you too, text me when you’re on your way,” you said, hanging up.

– – –

A few hours later, Toto had safely landed and was en route to your hotel. As dreadful as the circumstances were, you were looking forward to spending the night together as you hadn’t had time alone together since Mexico.

You busied yourself tidying your hotel room and had almost finished when there was a soft knock on your door. Toto.

Opening the door, you were shocked at Toto’s dishevelled appearance. The normally polished, suave gentleman had rings under his eyes, a crumpled shirt that looked as if an iron had skipped over it briefly and messy hair.

“Hey,” he said, stepping over the threshold, closing the door and embracing you warmly. This was a man who needed a hug and you were more than happy to oblige.

“Hey,” you replied, nuzzling into his chest, “Everything’s going to be okay yeah?”

Stepping back and breaking the hug, Toto shook his head, “I’m not sure, Robert called me and he is furious.”

“Toto, I know you think highly of Robert but please remember he is not your boss, at the end of the day, you own more of the team than he does,” you said, folding your arms.

“I know,” started Toto, “But he is part of the bigger picture. We are fundamentally a marketing tool for him and if we get bad press, it doesn’t reflect well.”

“We will sort it.” you said before gesturing towards the sofa, “Come, sit down, do you want to order room service?”

Plopping down on the sofa, looking exhausted, Toto replied, “Maybe.”

“Oh my gosh, you are so not okay.” you said, settling down beside him and stroking his shoulder, “Lara is lucky she’s not anywhere nearby, if I could get my hands on her…”

“You and your temper,” said Toto, raising a small smile, “She’s not worth it.”

“That’s true,” you said smirking, pressing a kiss to his temple, “Right let's feed you up, then we’re getting in the tub and going to bed.”

“Why do I feel like a child?” groaned Toto.

“I’ve never seen you looking so down,” you replied, pulling him closer to you, “I don’t like it.”

“I have my moments,” he said wistfully. “You choose the food, I’m easy.”

“If you’re sure,” you said, raising an eyebrow, normally Toto was picky about almost everything.

“One hundred per cent,” he said, laying his head on your shoulder.

As you scrolled through the room service menu, your phone buzzed with a text. It was Rosie.

You were right, the paps were called to the restaurant by an anonymous tip that evening. What time did Toto and Lara arrive?

Pleased that you were getting to the bottom of the situation you broke the comfortable silence that had fallen between you and Toto, “What time did you decide which restaurant you were going to?”

“What?” said Toto, lifting his head from your shoulder, confused.

“Rosie has just said the paps were called by an anonymous tip. When did you decide to go to that specific restaurant?”

Toto’s eyes widened, “We didn’t, we tried to go to the place next door but couldn’t get in without a reservation. But as soon as we got a table Lara went to the bathroom. Do you think she called them?”

“Bingo, one hundred per cent,” you said. “Once I get her phone we can prove it once and for all.”

Toto smiled for the first time, before kissing you lightly on the side of your jaw, “You are brilliant.”

“Nah, this was all Rosie,” you said, proud of your colleague slash closest confident. You didn’t know what you’d do without her.

“Well she’s part of your team,” said Toto, “I still can’t believe Lara would do such a thing.”

“I can,” you said.

THURSDAY AM

Waking up in the cushy bed in your Miami hotel room, you were blissfully happy. You’d had a simple room service dinner with Toto, followed by a soak in the large tub before falling into bed together, sleeping contently in each other's arms. It was the first night you’d spent together where you’d not had sex and in a strange way, it had felt more intimate than ever before.

Rolling over, Toto still sound asleep, you took the opportunity to go through your text messages.

There was one from Bella.

Is everything okay? I’ve seen the news. Xx

You replied.

Yes, thank you for asking, poor Toto is distraught, Lara was drunk out of her mind and he was helping her into their car. Nothing untoward but now he doesn’t have an assistant. She’s on a leave of absence and Toto is back with me in Miami. Hope all is well at the track, we’re coming later today x

Next, there were a few messages from Sophie.

I’m sorry to ask this but the story about Lara and Toto. Is it true?

You carefully typed out a similar response to the one you’d just sent to Bella.

No worries, Lara had drunk too much so he helped her into their car. Nothing untoward happened but we have agreed it is best for her to take a break for now. Unfortunately, the press has spun this very strangely. We’ll chat properly later but in the meantime let me know if anything is unclear.

You went through the motions, replying to worried texts, a few more times before you felt the man splayed out beside you starting to stir.

“Morning,” he said, his voice gravelly as he woke up.

“Morning,” you said, leaning over to kiss his neck before a strong arm reached around your middle and pulled you towards him, flush against his chest.

“What new shit show do we have today?” he asked, gently kissing you behind the ear.

“Nothing,” you said, “The good news is, I don’t think it can get any worse.”

“Don’t tempt fate,” he replied, “When do you get Lara’s phone?”

“Sophie is bringing it to Sao Paolo,” you said, “We’ll figure it out, hopefully before your press conference tomorrow.”

Toto groaned, releasing you and rolling over onto his back, bringing a hand to his temple, “I forgot about that.”

“It will be okay, the suppliers were none the wiser, it’s a certain type who read the trashy gossip columns.” you tried to reassure him, stroking his arm.

“Yes, the certain type is Christian,” he said miserably.

“Well if he says anything, you have the ultimate dirt on him,” you said, a dark look in your eyes.

“I have no proof though,” he said.

“That’s true, I’m sure we can figure something out,” you said, your mind going into overdrive.

THURSDAY PM

Touching down in Sao Paolo you were apprehensive. News of Toto’s alleged antics had spread like wildfire and despite the official line you had put out, you still had to field multiple comment requests. Trying to keep Toto out of the drama and allow him to concentrate solely on the impending race, you and your team were putting out fires everywhere.

The one saving grace was that once you had filled your team in on the truth of the matter (at least the official line), they were understanding and had rallied around Toto, loyal to a tee. He was grateful for the support and by the time you were on the way to your hotel, he seemed much more himself.

Most importantly, as you sped towards your destination, you were finally about to get your hands on Lara’s phone.

– – –

Although your assistant Sophie sometimes annoyed you with her boundless pep and enthusiasm, you were over the moon to see her standing in the hotel lobby awaiting your arrival. You had asked for Lara’s phone on the pretence that Toto needed to check some emails that he’d been dropped out of the loop on.

“Hey Y/N, hey Toto.” she said, greeting you both warmly, “How was the flight?”

“Good thank you, Sophie,” said Toto wearily, “How was yours?”

“Good thanks, we arrived earlier this afternoon. The hotel is amazing!” she said, ever-bubbly.

“Ah I’m glad to hear that,” you said, “I forgot it’s your first time in Brazil, make sure you get to the beach.”

“We’re hoping to on Saturday.” she said, “Oh and before I forget, I have Lara’s phone and laptop for you.”

As she handed you the Mercedes-branded tote bag, you struggled to contain your excitement, “Oh wow, her laptop too?”

“Yes, Pamela said I should bring both, I hope that’s the right thing to do?” she said, looking worried she’d misstepped.

“Absolutely not, this is perfect,” Toto said beaming, “Thank you, Sophie, I’m looking forward to working with you.”

“Me too,” she replied, “I have your schedule for tomorrow printed out and will leave it on your desk first thing in the morning. If anything changes, I will update it and send it straight to you.”

“Perfect, thank you, Sophie,” said Toto, pleased with her attention to detail.

“I had better let you both get checked in,” she said, shuffling to make a move, “I’ll see you on track tomorrow.”

“See you Sophie, and thank you again!” you said.

“See you,” she said, waving goodbye.

– – –

Having checked into your respective rooms, you immediately joined Toto in his suite and settled down on the sofa to go through Lara’s emails and phone log.

It didn’t take you long to scroll back to the night before last. “Oh my God!” you exclaimed having found what you were looking for almost immediately.

“What?” he said, looking up from where he was perched at the desk, furiously typing on his iPad.

“She called a US number at eight o’clock on Tuesday night.”

“The photographer?” Toto asked.

“I assume, wait, hang on, there are multiple calls to and from another UK number in the run-up. She hasn’t got it saved as a contact.”

“Are there any messages or just calls?” Toto said, putting his iPad down and crossing the room to sit beside you.

“Fuck, yes!” you said, hitting the jackpot. “Oh my God.”

“What?” asked Toto, craning his neck to read the phone.

There it was, in blue bubbles, the plot to take down Toto’s reputation.

(10:02) I’m just on the plane to Miami, once we get rid of bitchface, it’s on.

(10:15) Amazing. And the cameras are set?

(10:21) Yes, the guys put them in my room.

“Fuck, she had cameras in her room?” Toto asked, his eyes widening.

“Sounds like it,” you said.

Scrolling through the messages it transpired that whoever was plotting with Lara had been planning for a long time, biding their time until you were out of the way to honeytrap Toto. As well as ensuring the paparazzi were at the restaurant, they’d rigged Lara’s room with cameras and the plan was to get him drunk and into her room, seduce him and videotape the whole thing.

Seemingly they hadn’t considered that Toto wouldn’t want to and the messages after he had rejected her were even more interesting.

(01:34) He wouldn’t come in!

(1:41) What the fuck is wrong with that man?

(1:42) I don’t know, what do we do?

(1:43) Leave it to me babe.

“Babe?” you said, “They’re definitely British.”

“How do we find out who it is without them knowing?” asked Toto.

“Hmm,” you said, thinking on your feet, “I know! I’ll check WhatsApp, they’ll have a photo!”

Exiting iMessage and moving to WhatsApp your jaw dropped when you found the contact. It was a photo of the Red Bull car.

“I knew it!” you exclaimed, “Those fuckers!”

Toto looked livid, “Who is it?”

“Look,” you said, handing him the phone, “Red Bull. I don’t know who but it’s someone from their team.”

Toto looked thoroughly shaken up, “I’m going to call my lawyer. Keep the phone for now.”

“You’re going to call your lawyer?” you raised your eyebrows, “That’s serious.”

“This is serious, this is slander.” said Toto bluntly, “Put yourself in my shoes.”

“I know, I know.” you said, “Fuck, this is insane.”

FRIDAY AM

Yesterday had been a whirlwind and as you arrived at the track, you felt off. Emotions were running high and Toto had been preoccupied with legal matters all evening so had barely given you the time of day. You knew this was important but couldn’t help but feel slightly hurt by the cold shoulder he’d given you. You’d ended up returning to your room to sleep as he took calls into the early hours and you hadn’t slept a wink. It didn’t help that you felt nauseous and dizzy, perhaps a result of the fact you’d hardly eaten since landing in Brazil.

Lying awake had allowed you to delve deeper through Lara’s phone. Reading the long message exchange, it emerged that she had met this mysterious Red Bull employee at a party last year and had been chatting for some time before the conversation had turned to how much she hated her boss. Together they’d formulated a plan to ruin his reputation and in the process the team. It was incredibly devious and you couldn’t quite believe what you were reading.

Making sure to screenshot everything for Toto’s legal team, you suddenly felt extra nauseous and had to hotfoot it to the bathroom, only just making it in time. Shaking you shot a text to Sophie.

Good morning Sophie, thank you again for yesterday. I’ve woken up not feeling very well, could you please check in on Toto when you arrive at the track? I will come along later.

Covering all bases, you sent a few more texts to your team, ensuring they all knew what they needed to do in your absence. Knowing that he was stressed as it was, you refrained from telling Toto, texting him a simple good morning.

– – –

A few hours later, you found yourself lying on the long sofa in the hospitality area, one eye on your emails and one eye on Free Practice. Sophie had been a superstar, rallying around the team and diligently checking up on them on your behalf.

Steeling yourself to get up, you sipped a ginger ale (the only thing that seemed to help) and propped yourself up. Toto’s press conference was due to start after Free Practice and it was the one task you had to be present for, sick or not.

Toto’s legal team had advised against discussing the press matters within the conference, something which would undoubtedly be difficult with Christian Horner present. He always loved to stir the pot and this scandal was likely the stuff of his dreams.

Making your way down to the garage to collect Toto, you were nervous on his behalf. As smooth as he was with media appointments, this was a tough situation for even the most seasoned professional. He was sat in his usual spot in the garage, flanked by several senior engineers, deep in discussion.

Spotting you approaching he made his excuses, putting his headset down and crossed the garage to greet you.

“Is it already time?” he asked, looking unsure of himself.

“I’m afraid so,” you said grimacing, leading the way towards the press area. “I’m hoping we’ll be the last ones in, doesn’t give them a chance to say anything stupid.”

Toto’s nervous energy was palpable and as you got nearer you turned to him, “It’s going to be fine, like we said, we’re not going to mention anything that the legal team are working on. You just focus on the race and ignore anyone who tried to bring anything else up, okay?”

“Easier said than done,” he said wistfully.

Luckily you were the last ones to arrive with Toto only receiving some curious looks from his counterparts as the hostess dived straight into the press conference, asking each Team Principal one by one their approach for the weekend. Professional as ever Toto answered flawlessly, expressing his hopes for another strong turnout from the Mercedes team.

Unfortunately, everything began to fall apart as the floor was opened for questions.

“This one’s for Christian,” called out an English-accented voice from the depths of the crowd.

“Yes,” Christian replied, grinning smarmily.

“We all know that your rivalry with Toto is unmatched, do you think his colourful personal life has been his downfall this season?

Toto looked enraged as Christian smirked. “Now, I don’t want to speak ill of my counterpart. I think a smart man knows to keep his personal life separate from his professional one. What’s the saying, you don’t shit where you eat?”

Laughter rumbled through the crowd, Toto looking furious stayed silent.

“Right.” said the hostess awkwardly, any other questions?

Another hand shot up, “Yes, for Toto.”

Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself for whatever shitshow this would be.

“What difference do you think the upgrade package will make this weekend?”

You sighed with relief as Toto answered with perfect composure. It was only when the crowd shifted slightly that you saw it was Tom, your ever-loyal Partnerships Manager, who had asked the question, wearing a non-branded shirt to blend in with the journalists.

A few more questions went back and forth with the other Team Principals before Toto was once again in the firing line.

“Toto, it seems like you’ve been having a lot of fun away from the track, will you be hitting the town tonight?”

Toto looked angry once again, replying curtly, “Our focus as a team is on the race ahead.”

With Christian still smirking away, he interjected, “C’mon Toto, that’s a politician’s answer, answer the man!”

Whipping his head around Toto replied, “I don’t think it’s anyone’s business.”

“Ooh, I touched a nerve there I think,” said Christian, throwing his hands up dramatically. “Watch out ladies of Brazil, Toto’s on the prowl.”

The hostess looked deeply uncomfortable and tried to diffuse the tension with a flustered, “Well thank you, everyone, that’s all we have time for.”

Never one to let an opportunity slide, Christian replied smugly, “Such a shame, I was enjoying that.”

Toto stared daggers at his Red Bull rival as the hostess signalled the end of the press conference. Rushing across to Toto, your priority was to get him away from Christian before he said anything he might regret.

“Oh, I’m surprised to see you here Y/N.” said Christian, “I heard there’s trouble in paradise.”

“You’re a fine one to talk Christian,” you said, Toto looking positively enraged beside you but knowing better than to say anything.

Christian chuckled, “Well I’m not stupid enough to get caught.”

“Let’s go Y/N,” said Toto, grabbing the crook of your arm, “Don’t engage.”

Christian smirked as you made your exit.

“I hate that man,” you said as you rushed back through the paddock to the garage.

“You say this far too often,” said Toto, smiling for the first time in a while.

“I know, I need to let it go blah blah.” you said, squeezing his arm discreetly as you walked alongside him, “To be honest that wasn’t so bad.”

Toto looked unconvinced, “Maybe for you, I look like a dirty old man.”

“But you’re my dirty old man.” you said with a smirk, earning a withering glance from Toto, “I’m joking, it was fine. It will be old news by tomorrow trust me.”

“I hope so.” he said, “Can I see you tonight?”

Surprised he was being so formal, you replied, “Yes, you see me pretty much every night.”

“I didn’t last night and the night before was different.”

“The last few days have been weird.” you said, “I’ll make up for it tonight.”

Toto’s eyes flashed, understanding what you were letting on, “Is that a promise?”

“If you’re nice to me,” you said teasingly.

“I’m always nice!” he said, coming to a stop as you reached the garage entrance.

“Keep telling yourself that, dirty old man. I’m going to head to my office so I’ll see you later,” you said with a wink.

“You’re terrible.” said Toto, shaking his head, “I’ll see you later.”

SATURDAY AM

The last few days' pent-up frustrations had indeed made for an exciting night with Toto. Gone was the dejected shell of a man who had turned up at your door in Miami. Perhaps his discussions with the legal team had bolstered his confidence, or it was the fact that the upgrade packages seemed to have worked wonders, but whatever the reason, Toto was more confident than ever.

You’d barely gotten through his hotel room door when he’d pinned you up against the wall, bringing your arms up above your head and holding them there as he kissed you more passionately than ever before. Pressing his body up against yours he ground his increasing hardness into you, bumping rhythmically as his hands explored your stomach and breasts. It wasn’t long before he scooped you up in his arms, one leg either side of his thick torso, effortlessly carrying you over to the bed.

Throwing you down onto the mattress forcefully, you would have bounced back up if he hasn’t dived straight on top, making quick work of slipping off the floaty sundress you’d put on for the evening, revealing your new lingerie set. It wasn’t dissimilar to the one you’d been wearing on the day he’d walked in on you changing, equally transparent and delicate, except that it was yellow.

“I haven’t seen this before,” he said, his voice low with lust. “I like it, maybe we leave it on?”

You smirked, knowing he’d like the racy set, “Tonight we do whatever you want, you’ve had a rough couple of days.”

“I’m a lucky guy,” he said, diving down to plant kisses along your jawline and neck, working his way up to behind your ear.

“I’m a lucky girl,” you said, unbuttoning his shirt to reveal his muscular torso. “But this has to go.”

“Sorry,” he said blushing, leaning up on his arms as he divested his shirt and shorts, leaving only his boxers.

“And the boxers too,” you smirked, pulling at the waistband. “I want all of you.”

Your words sparked some kind of frenzy as Toto tore them off, leaning down to kiss you deeper than ever before, his hands making their way lower to discover you were already turned on and ready to go. Once again coming back up to rest on his forearms, glancing down at you with his chocolate brown eyes, he pulled your underwear to one side and thrust in with no warning.

“Fuck!” you exclaimed, not quite expecting that, taking a moment to adjust to the full feeling.

Suddenly his lust had turned to concern, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you!”

Smiling, you caressed his face, “It’s okay, it feels good. Just took me by surprise.” you adjusted yourself before leaning up to kiss him once more, melting into his embrace as he started pushing in and out gently.

He grinned, picking up the pace, reaching down in between you to play with your clit, knowing it would drive you wild.

“Fuck, yes Toto,” you said as he continued plunging into you.

Withdrawing wordlessly, he picked up your hips and flipped you over onto your hands and knees, removing your underwear before standing behind you as he thrust back in ruthlessly. Hitting you from this angle you could feel your orgasm quickly building and it wasn’t long before you were on the brink of falling apart.

Continuing to push in and out, he pushed you down further onto the bed, collapsing your arms, removing your bra and deftly cupping your breast with one hand whilst the other grabbed one of your hands in his. He slowly guided your hand down to your lower stomach, covering your hand with his and pushing down just enough for you to feel him as he moved in and out of you.

“Do you feel?” he asked breathily.

You could barely get words out as you were getting closer and closer to completion but managed to utter, “Yes, I love it when you’re inside me.”

Your words seemed to affect Toto on a visceral level as he growled, speeding up as he lost himself in the moment. It wasn’t long before you felt yourself fall off the edge, clenching down on Toto as he continued to work you through your orgasm.

“Fuck, Toto,” you said, as he grabbed your hips tightly, driving into you deeply a few more times before expertly pulling out, moaning as he came on your lower back.

– – –

It had been a frenzied exchange and as you woke up next to a peaceful-looking Toto, you made a mental note to let him fuck out his frustrations more often. He’d been through the wringer this last week and he’d let it show.

Letting Toto snooze a little longer, you crept out of bed to make yourself a ginger tea, hoping to once again quell the nausea that just wouldn’t shake. Trying to be as quiet as possible, standing up hadn’t helped the situation and once again you had to dash to the bathroom, only just making it in time.

Unfortunately, your wretching had woken up Toto who had knocked gently on the door, “Are you okay?”

Easing up you managed to reply, “Yes, just not feeling so great.”

“Can I come in?” he asked.

Quickly flushing the toilet, you replied, “Sure,” Still feeling ill, you continued to kneel in front of the toilet.

Rushing in, Toto bent down to your side, putting an arm around you in concern. “Oh, you poor girl. Do you think it was the food from last night?”

You managed a weak reply, “Maybe, how are you feeling?”

“I’m okay for now,” he replied as you wretched once again. Ever the gentleman, he held your hair out of harm’s way and rubbed your back. “It’s okay, just let it out.”

The nausea finally dissipating, you flushed the toilet once again as Toto handed you a tissue.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” you said, hoping he wasn’t completely disgusted by the morning’s turn of events.

“Don’t be silly, it happens to us all,” he said, squeezing your shoulders and pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I don’t think you should come to quali like this.”

You frowned, “It’s fine, I feel better, like you said, it’s better out than in.”

Toto’s brow furrowed in concern, “But I will worry about you.”

“If I feel sick again, I’ll come back to the hotel, but the team needs me there,” you said bluntly, thinking back to yesterday’s sofa set-up.

“If you’re sure,” he said, not convinced. Grabbing your hand and getting you back on your feet he pulled you towards the bedroom area, “Come on, I’ll make you a tea.”

“Thank you,” you said, surprised by how unphased he was. “Sorry again.”

“Stop apologising!” he said as he busied himself re-boiling the kettle.

SATURDAY PM

Post-qualifying the garage was once again in a celebratory mood, Lewis having qualified P1 and George P2. As happy as you were for the team, you were also secretly pleased that as Rosie had predicted, the good results would bury the Toto and Lara stories in the press.

As the team milled around you, you suddenly felt another wave of nausea and bolted for the fresh air of the paddock. Knowing you were not going to make it back to the hospitality area in time, you ducked into a bathroom next to one of the bars where once again you found yourself hunched over a toilet bowl. To make matters worse you felt dizzy, and as you stood up you felt your vision blurring.

You must not have been out for more than a few seconds when you woke up on the toilet cubicle floor, someone knocking on the door.

“Y/N?” called out a familiar voice. It was Rosie.

Carefully getting up, you replied, “Hey,” opening the door to reveal a worried-looking Rosie outside.

“Are you okay? You didn’t look very well again and you’ve been in there a while.”

You groaned, “I passed out.”

Rosie’s eyebrows shot up, “Fuck, we should take you to the medical building!”

“I’m fine Rosie, honestly, I think I just ate something bad,” you said, trying your best to composite yourself in the mirror. You looked rough, a sheen forming across your face.

“I think you should go anyway,” Rosie said folding her arms.

Knowing she wouldn’t give in you sighed, “Sure, I guess it doesn’t hurt.”

“I’m walking you there though, just in case. I don’t want you passing out in the paddock,” said Rosie firmly, making you roll your eyes.

– – –

Sitting nervously in the medical examination room you waited for the nurse to come and check you over. After much protest, Rosie had left you alone, on the condition that you would call her to come and collect you.

“Good afternoon Y/N, how are you?” said the nurse as she entered the room.

“Hi, I’ve been better not going to lie,” you said.

“Indeed, your colleague told me that you passed out? Have you experienced any other symptoms?” the nurse asked, sitting in the chair opposite you.

“I’ve been feeling dizzy for a while now and have been throwing up quite often,” you admitted.

“Is there a chance you could be pregnant? When was your last menstruation?” said the nurse, raising her eyebrow.

You went white. Of course, like every woman the possibility had been at the back of your mind, but you and Toto had been careful since your slip-up in France, and besides, you’d had a period recently.

“A small chance but probably not.” you said, “I had my last period three weeks ago, it was a little lighter than normal but otherwise all good.”

“Hmm.” said the nurse, “I think we should get you a test anyway, just for peace of mind.”

As she busied herself rummaging through the drawers at the back of the room, you reflected on the possibility. You wanted children at some point but you’d never discussed this with Toto and since he already had two you weren’t even sure if he’d want more.

“Here you go, if you take this cup to the bathroom and fill with urine to this line, we can get a definitive answer.” the nurse said kindly, handing you a small plastic cup.

“Thanks,” you said bluntly.

– – –

Having done what the nurse you’d made your way back, cup full and were now waiting for a small strip of paper to determine your fate.

“Well, we have our answer,” said the nurse, “Y/N, you’re pregnant.”

Fuck. What on earth were you going to do?

#formula one x reader #toto wolff fanfic #f1 x reader #onceuponatimein...

126 notes · View notes