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jakesduskwood · 9 months ago

Text

even statues crumble if they're made to wait

Pairing: Jake x Fem!MC

Genre: Post-Episode 10 Duskwood, Post-Episode 1 Moonvale

Words: 8,916

Summary: It's been three months since the explosion in the mine. Three months since Hannah was found. And MC's accepted that Jake is never coming back. When she gets roped into another missing person's case, it makes for the perfect distraction. Jake is dead. It's fine. That is, until she finds herself on the phone with Alan Bloomgate who says he has something to show her. But it's fine. Jake is dead.

Until he's not.

EPISODE-1 MOONVALE SPOILERS AHEAD (MAYBE)!

[ A/N: Hello! :)

I know it's been a while since I've done this, but I finished Moonvale Episode 1 and if you've seen the ending (and used its Duskwood code), you know what happened and how excited I was to receive that bit of Duskwood. So, I took it and ran with it, and out came this extremely long fic. I did not proofread this as it took me literally almost 12 hours to write so it is completely and 100% me and my love for Jake and I hope you love it.

Side note: I suck with anything related to timelines, so I made one up on my own. I know Episode 1 of Moonvale takes place over the course of a day or two, but for the purpose of this fic, it made sense to make it longer, so it's not a typo, or me losing my mind, it's just the way my brain processed this.

Enjoy! :) ]

It’s been three months since the explosion in the mine.

Three months since Richy had been killed. Three months since Hannah was rescued. Three months since I had last spoken to Thomas or Cleo or Lilly or…or Jessy. I didn’t blame her then and I don’t blame her now. Any of them, really. I didn’t share the bond they had with each other. I wasn’t from Duskwood. It didn’t matter that we’d experienced a tragedy together—and yes, perhaps them more than me, but I loved Richy too. I had lost Richy too. And Jake—

But mostly, I think they just wanted to forget. To move on. They didn’t want to remember that their friend had been capable of…of that. And I was a constant reminder of that to them. So I understood why we didn’t necessarily talk anymore.

The one person I did keep in contact with from Duskwood, oddly enough, other than the occasional update from Alan Bloomgate, was Dan. We weren’t best friends or anything, but he allowed me to check in on our friends in a way that I didn’t know how to do with anyone else. Maybe because I thought he was the least affected among them. I knew he cared about Hannah, but he wasn’t to her what Thomas or Cleo or Lilly were. And he wasn’t to Richy what Jessy had been.

I’d learned from him that Thomas and Hannah had broken up. There was no bad blood, but Thomas hadn’t quite figured out how to accept the things he’d learned about his girlfriend when she’d been gone, and Hannah hadn’t quite figured out how to re-trust someone after Richy. Even if that person was Thomas. But I’d hoped they would find their way back to each other in the end.

I thought about reaching out to Jessy every once in a while—even just as an apology for everything that had happened. I’m sorry that Hannah was found at the expense of Richy. I’m sorry that he did this to you. I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner. We should have. We should have. We should have. I miss you. But I never send it. I’m not all that sure she’d respond anyway.

Cleo and I were never all that close. She has her best friend back, so I think she’s probably as okay as she can be. Helping Hannah find a new kind of normal in a time where her childhood friend had kidnapped her in order to prove a point. I don’t know how you come back from that—I don’t know how you come back from knowing that you killed somebody at all.

I hadn’t found the courage to ask if somebody had told Hannah about Jake.

Not that I think it would matter anyway. I hadn’t heard from him since before the explosion in the mine, which was, like I said—three months ago. I waited the appropriate amount of time—twenty-five days—before I broke down and concluded that maybe he hadn’t survived. Which just piled a shit-ton of guilt onto my shoulders because it was supposed to be me in that mine. He had gone in place of me and now he was dead.

It was the only explanation that made sense. I was used to Jake disappearing for days at a time, but never as long as he had been now. And he didn’t seem like the type to tell me he loved me and then leave without a single explanation. Not unless he had to. But it had been three months and as much as I missed him, as much as my chest ached with the thought that we would never eat Chinese food out of shitty motels and have that on-the-run ending we talked about, I had accepted that he wasn’t coming back.

I wonder if he had known about Richy or if he had died still thinking Michael Hanson was the one who had kidnapped Hannah. I wonder if his last thoughts were of me. Maybe it’s selfish, but I kind of hope they were, because I’m pretty sure I’ll think about him for the rest of my life.

I wonder what it would have felt like to run my hands through his hair. To kiss him. To spend every waking moment with him and know it was because I loved him. Because I would have. Talking to Jake became about more than just finding Hannah. It became a part of my day I looked forward to more than anything else. He confided in me in a way that told me he never had with anyone, maybe not even Hannah, and I needed that from somebody. I needed somebody to trust in me the way that Jake did. I needed somebody to love me the way that Jake did.

It was strange—and maybe a little ironic—the thought that something so beautiful could come out of something so tragic.

Anyway, my point is: it’s been a long couple of months. Of thinking about my friends. Of thinking about Jake. Of wondering if I should have done things differently. I should have gone to Duskwood to help. Not even with the mine, but sooner. I could have. I could’ve gone when Jessy was attacked on the way home. I could’ve gone when the group made plans to cut out of town and hide away in the house Richy had found. Selfishly, I should have. In that moment, when they were settled around the fire and Lilly called me, I had never remembered wanting anything more. I should have grabbed Jake—metaphorically, maybe even literally—and rode it out with them to the end.

I don’t stop missing them after three months. Of wishing things could have been different. Wishing I could have done more. But exactly ninety-five days after the explosion in the mine, seventy days since I had accepted that Jake was never coming back, twenty-two days since I had last heard from anybody from Duskwood (Dan included), my phone dings with a new message.

And the cycle starts all over again.

It’s somebody named Eric, who claims he needs my help to find his friend Adam, who disappeared while he was waiting for a ride in someplace called Redlog Pines. And much like with Duskwood, I have never heard of Redlog, and the case reminds me way too much of Thomas’ first message to me, so much that it makes my chest ache, but I can’t say no because there’s somebody missing, and if I’d say no the first time, God knows where Hannah would be.

So, I say yes, and I help out where I can, and Eric decides he needs to bring about four more friends in on his little plan and I try my best to stay emotionally unattached because I remember everything that happened the last time and I can’t go through that again. I offer up information when I can and keep my words short and careful because I’m not ready to get attached to somebody else I know I might never meet.

I know how this ends.

Two days in, Ash, one of Eric’s friends, brings up my Duskwood past and the unhealed wound I’ve been trying to mend breaks open again. She asks about Richy, and about the mine, and then because I’m me and I can’t help myself, I tell her about Jake. She tells me the news never mentioned another body and I shove that thought to the back of my head because hoping for something that will never come true will kill me.

Four days into Adam’s disappearance, and the police not giving a shit—as Charlie, somebody who reminds me far too much of Richy for comfort, points out—my phone beeps with an incoming call from somebody I haven’t spoken to in a while.

“Go for [MC].” I answer my phone.

Ever since Hannah had been found in the mine and Jake had…you know, my phone had been more silent than I’d gotten used to. Until this new case. But even that—it was only a few days old and I didn’t want to go down the same path with them that I did with my friends in Duskwood. We didn’t really know each other that long, sure—even though sometimes it’d felt like it—but it felt like I’d finally been a part of something. Like, I had found these people who had chosen me for me.

And originally, maybe they had. Maybe they’d had every intention of keeping me around, but then Richy was the Man Without A Face and Alan Bloomgate had rescued Hannah and nothing was the same as it had been when we’d met each other. We knew too many secrets about each other by the time the town settled. Secrets we would have to take to the grave.

Or maybe I’m losing my mind a bit and I had really only been a means to an end.

Either way.

“Alan?” I raise my voice when there’s nothing but breathing on the other end of the line. “Did you mean to call me?”

His tone is clipped. “I found something.”

“You found something.” I repeat.

My heart clenches. For all I know, it might fall into my stomach. As far I know, from watching the news, from what Ash told me, Jake’s body was never found. Richy’s was. Or what was left of him to find, anyway. I had assumed that there just hadn’t been enough of Jake left. The thought left me nauseous, but it was better than hoping for something I knew I could never have.

“I’m sending it to your phone now.” He responds. “Let me know what you think of this.”

And then he hangs up.

That was a riveting conversation, I think as my phone dings with a message. I do my best to ignore my other messages—contacts from Duskwood I’m still not ready to acknowledge—and click Alan Bloomgate. He sent me a video that looks like—oh God.

Immediately, I’m overcome with emotion as an all-too-familiar forest pops up on my phone. It’s a video of Alan’s bodycam footage. He’s searching the Duskwood forest. A forest I’ve seen too many times in the background of other video calls.

I watch as he stumbles upon an object that’s too dark to make out at first. When he gets closer, it’s clear that it’s a backpack. It’s simple. Black. Nothing about it that screams this is mine and I left it here about anybody in particular. You stupid, stupid idiot, I tell my heart when it rattles against my chest in hope. He’s dead.

Alan stands and treks away from the backpack—I want to scream at him to go back, to open it and look through it and tell me if it’s what my heart aches to believe, but I can’t, because this is a video and I’m simply watching with wide eyes, waiting for…for something. But then. But then, he moves further into the forest and I watch as he stumbles upon an object that makes my knees tremble and tears rush to my eyes and my hands shake. A black hoodie. It looks like it’s been through hell, with holes scattered up the sleeves and dirt cakes into the hood, but it’s unmistakably his.

And then—Alan lifts the hood and picks up something that makes me sink to my knees with a sob that wracks my entire frame. Because I’m staring at Jake’s mask. The mask he doesn’t go anywhere without. The mask that protects him. And so my relief is short-lived, because I realize that even if he’s alive—which seems like a very big possibility at this point—he’s alive without the things that he needs to survive.

And then the anger kicks in. Because if he’s been alive, on his own, for three months—why has he not contacted me? Unless he survived the mine but he didn’t survive the after. But that didn’t make any sense. So, okay, he wasn’t dead. But that didn’t make any sense either. He told me he wouldn’t let them catch him. Because catching that meant he would be apart from me. Did something happen that prevented him from being able to reach out and tell me he was at least okay? A quick text that said didn’t die in the explosion in the mine, you don’t need to mourn me, by the way, going off radar for another year. Did he think I would have given up on him?

I wipe my eyes and shoot a message to Alan.

ME: Recently?? Did nobody search the forests before?

ALAN: Searched the forests for what, [MC]? The logical assumption seemed to be that if anybody was inside the mine when Richy set the fire, they would have perished alongside him. Officers were stationed outside every known entrance and exit. Besides, after the story you and your friends spun around this town, do you think anybody would have gone back into its forests?

ME: But it’s possible?

ALAN: I would say these items had been there for some time. But I would say it is likely he ditched them when he fled the mine, yes.

Another sob tears through my throat. Jake is alive. I don’t know quite what that means for us as of now, but I know it’s the best news I’ve heard since Hannah was found. Jake is alive. He’s out there somewhere. And even if it’s been three months, and even if I’m a little bit mad at him right now, I know that if he was here, I would throw my arms around his neck and hold on to him until someone dragged me off, and even then—I would fight kicking and screaming.

I close out of my messages with Alan and pull up a conversation I haven’t had the heart to look at in quite some time.

ME: Jake’s alive.

LILLY: …

LILLY: Have you spoken to him?

ME: Alan called. He found some of Jake’s things in Duskwood. I don’t know a lot of details. But I know he made it out of the mine.

Lilly types for a long while, but she doesn’t respond. I don’t take it personally. I think it’s probably hard for her to be happy that her brother’s okay while also trying to accept that her sister may never be okay again. Her sister, who had once-upon-a-time been kind-of-sort-of in love with their brother she didn’t know she had. I think that would probably mess with any family’s heads. And on top of all that, you throw in manslaughter and a kidnapping. I wouldn’t wish anybody, not even my worst enemy, to have had to go through what the Donforts had.

When it becomes adamant that Lilly isn’t going to respond, I start scrolling through messages with the rest of the group in Duskwood. I click on Jessy. I’m here if you need me. That had been the last thing I sent to her, a couple of days after Richy’s death. She hadn’t responded. I click out of Jessy’s contact and click on Thomas’ instead. Thank you for everything. That had been his last message to me after we found Hannah. I’d liked it. I hadn’t expected at the time it would be the last thing we’d ever say to each other. I click out of Thomas’ and click on Richy. So, you want to turn yourself in? I’d asked. That was before he called me. Before he lit a match and burned himself and the mine to the ground. Some people would call that heroic. I mostly call him a coward.

I click on Jake’s name. It’s been a while since I read messages between the two of us. Maybe before I had accepted—thought—he was dead. In that twenty-five-day period when I’d hoped with all I’d had that he would come back. I love you. That was the last message he sent me. I’d responded with I love you too, Jake. Then, four days later: Are you okay? A week later: Jake, please, you’re starting to scare me. I know you said you would contact when you could, but it’s been a week. After twenty-five days, when I had finally accepted our fate, I’d sent one final message: I hope you know that I love you, and I will always care about you, but I think it’s time for me to move on. I’m so sorry that I sent you into the mine. It should have been me. And I will probably feel the guilt from that for the rest of my life. Thank you for everything. Take care of yourself, wherever you are.

After that, I had closed out of our messages and hadn’t looked back. Partly because I couldn’t bear the pain of it. It felt like I had given up on him. I hadn’t—if I had thought for a second that he was alive, if I knew then what I know now, I would have never sent that message. But holding out hope for somebody who I thought was a ghost at the time? That was slowly killing me.

It’s only then that I notice the screen flickering. Much like the way it used to whenever Jake would hack into my phone. I don’t think he’s much in the mood to be hacking right now, but somehow, I know it’s him. When had he done this? Recently? If I had opened our messages, would I have seen this ten—twenty—even fifty days ago? It hadn’t looked like this the last time I texted him. Did he see my last message about needing to move on? Was that why he hadn’t reached out to tell me that he was okay? Because he thought I was moving on happily without him?

No, my brain supplies. He wouldn’t. He would reach out anyway, because he knows how much the thought of him not being okay would have destroyed you.

The screen flickers once more and then a message pops up, bright and blue-tinted and clear as day on my phone.

[MC]

I WILL FIND YOU

And the world around me shifts.

--------------------------------------------------

Maybe it sounds crazy, considering I’ve never seen his face before, but I always thought that if I’d ran into Jake one day, maybe on the street or at one of those motels he stayed at or maybe even in Duskwood, surrounded by all our friends, I would know it was him. I would, because it’s him, and it’s me, and we’re the only two people who understand each other quite the way we do.

I still believe that.

I believe it when I book my flight to Duskwood (or rather, twenty miles outside of town, which is the closest airport). I believe it when I board the airplane and find a seat next to a mother with her screaming child and when I shoot off a quick text to Eric to let him know I’ll be MIA for the next few hours, but to message me if he needs anything—and I think about how much easier this case would probably be to solve if we had Jake.

Maybe it would have been harder to find Hannah without me, but I know damn well they would’ve never found her without Jake.

Dan picks me up from the airport. I haven’t told the others yet. Something about it felt off—like I shouldn’t message them and say hey, I know we haven’t spoken in a while, but I’m booking a flight to look into why my maybe-slash-not-really boyfriend left his belongings in a forest we really wish we could forget about, and by the way, can I crash at your place?

It’s quiet on the car ride back into town. I’m looking through my messages from Eric and the group from Redlog Pines and thinking about how I’m Duskwood with this group and I want so badly to laugh because it’s ironic, but Dan wouldn’t understand. He might just call me crazy. Better yet, he would ask how I manage to get myself into these situations, and really, I don’t have an answer for him.

“How have you been?” I ask, just to break the tension, as Charlie, in my messages, tries to persuade his friends to head back into that creepy cave in the middle of the forest. He’s going to get someone killed, I think.

Dan looks over at me. “Are you still with Hackerman?”

My chest squeezes. “His name is Jake, Dan. And we were never really together.”

“Hm.” He nods like he doesn’t quite believe me. “You already know mostly everything that’s been happening here. Thomas and Hannah called it quits. They say it was some mutual decision, but it’s hard to find them in the same room together. Jessy hasn’t been out with us since. I think we remind her too much of Richy. The group’s all changed.”

“And you?” I ask.

He gives me a cheshire-like grin that doesn’t quite meet his eyes. “I’m always the same.”

We make it to Duskwood just as the sun’s going down. Much too late for me to try and trek through the forest and retrace the steps Jake might have taken that night. Not that I think it would help give me any clues as to where he might have gone, but mostly because I wonder if it will make me feel closer to him. We’ve never been in the same place before, and even if he’s not there now—he once was.

“Can you drop me at the police station?”

Dan blinks. “The police station.”

I nod. “Yeah.”

“We answered their questions for weeks, [MC]. I don’t think anything you have to tell them at this point is going to help. The investigation’s closed. Everybody knows Richy did it. He died with the fire in the mine. Everybody’s trying to move on from that.” He works his jaw. “Did you come here to open old wounds after all this time?”

I try not to show the hurt look on my face. “This isn’t about Richy. Look, Alan called me. He asked if I could look at some things. I figured it was better for me to do it in person. That’s it. Nothing to do with Richy. Nothing to do with Jessy. Nothing to do with you.”

He sighs, and I’m not entirely sure he’s going to abide by my wishes until we pull in front of a tiny building—tinier than most—that says Duskwood Police on the sign. Duskwood must not have that much crime. Well, not until this, I suppose.

“Thank you.” I tell him as I reach over to undo my seatbelt and climb out of the car. “This is a nice ride, by the way.”

He raises a hand in some mock-salute. “Need me to pick you up?”

“Nah.” I shake my head. “Think I’ll explore the town for a little bit.”

“Suit yourself.” He shrugs and then he’s off.

I square my shoulders and take a deep breath before opening the door to the police station. It wasn’t like Alan asked me to come down here. He hadn’t. Even during the investigation into Richy’s death and Hannah’s kidnapping, when he questioned us, he never asked me to come to Duskwood. We’d done way too many video calls and phone calls and at one point, I had asked if he thought it would be easier for me to come to Duskwood, to which he responded back, are you ready for that?

No, I hadn’t been. I’m not even so sure I was now. But knowing that Jake was alive, that here was the last place was, I had to try.

“Can I help you?” The woman at the front desk asks.

I clear my throat. “I was wondering if I could speak to Alan Bloomgate. I’m one of—I was involved in the Hannah Donfort case. My name is [MC].”

Her eyes widen. “Give me a moment.” She stands and heads to some back office—which looks to me more like a closet—and then returns with a clipped smile. “He’ll be right out.”

Apparently, she isn’t lying, because not two minutes later, Alan is stepping out from the same door and staring me down. I hold his gaze and hope it says that I’m not here to argue. I will tell him my truth, but only my truth, not Hannah’s, not Jake’s, not anybody else’s.

“I was wondering when I would see you.” He says.

I shrug one shoulder. “Isn’t a few months later better than never?”

“Let’s go into my office.” He says, and leads me around the desk and back into the closet space he had come out of. He sits behind the desk and motions for me to take a seat opposite him. “I’m just going to guess you’re not here to talk about Miss Donfort.”

“I want to see them.” I tell him. “His things. I want to see them for myself. And whatever you want from me in return, I’ll give to you.”

“You’re playing a dangerous game here, [MC].”

“He isn’t a game to me.” I snap back and then sit back and try to relax. “I appreciate that you called me. It’s—I helped you find Hannah. I would do it again. Even with knowing the things that we do now, I would do it all again. That’s how much that group means to me. That’s how much he means to me. I’m not asking you to break any rules or to lie for him or to—to let him hide in your basement for the next five years. I’m just asking you to show me what you found.”

He stares me down for a moment. Then, he sighs, says “wait here for a minute” and disappears to another room. When he comes back, it’s with an evidence bag in his hand filled with the objects I saw on his bodycam footage. My breath hitches in my throat.

“I can’t let you touch them.” He says as he lays them in front of me.

I stare into the eyes of the mask. “Did you tell anybody that he’s alive?”

“I don’t know that he’s alive,” is all the answer he gives, which is an answer to my question. I slide my gaze down to the black hoodie, to the dirtied sleeves and muddy hood, and think about the fact that Jake wore this. I’m so close to him.

And yet I’ve never been further away from him.

“Thank you.” I tell him. “For—for this. And for listening to me about Hannah. If you hadn’t, I—I don’t know what would have happened. How much longer he would have gone on for. If he would have ever stopped.”

Alan’s silent for a minute. Then, he clears his throat. “You know, it was strange to me. Both Hannah and yourself swore to me that neither of you knew the other.”

“I don’t.” I swear.

It was one of the (albeit many) things that didn’t make sense to me. How Hannah got a hold of my number. How she sent it to Thomas. She’d told Alan she hadn’t really remembered texting him my number at all.

“I believe you.” He reassures. “I just think it’s strange. One mistake, if you can call it that, and you throw yourself into a missing persons case to help a stranger.”

“They’re not strangers.” Even though Hannah is kind of still a stranger.

“But they were.” Alan reasons. “You had no reason to say yes to helping Thomas. I doubt anybody would have held it against you if you turned the other way. But you decided to follow this until the end. To make sure they found Hannah. And you care about them. Maybe that’s why I find that I’m more lenient with you than maybe I should be. Why you’re sitting across from me right now calling the shots. Why I’m not asking you about the hacker.”

“I wouldn’t tell you if you did.” I look him in the eye so he knows I’m telling the truth.

He returns my gaze. “Maybe that’s the other reason.”

“Hm.” I acknowledge before I turn my gaze away—from him, from the objects that I know belong to Jake and it takes everything in me not to snatch them up and run. “Well. Thank you for allowing me to steal some of your time. For letting me—” I cut myself off before I say something that makes me break down in a fit of tears in front of him. “—just thank you.”

Leaving the station is easier than coming in. I’m still not any closer to knowing where Jake is than I was when I arrived here, but there’s a comfort in knowing he walked these streets. I wonder what he would think if he knew I was here. He hadn’t wanted me to come to Duskwood when everything was happening…but now that it was over, would he be happy that I was here? That I had come to Duskwood to piece together where he might have gone? Would he track my location and come to find me and…or was I grasping at straws?

It felt like I had just gotten him back. Not really, not entirely…but knowing that he was alive, that he was out there somewhere, maybe thinking of me and looking for ways to come back, to live the life we talked about when he asked me if I was sure…that was worth it. The thought that we could maybe someday have that—even if it was a twenty percent chance.

I check my phone again to see a new message from Ash. She’s asking me if I’ve heard from Charlie in the last few hours. Apparently, he’s AWOL, and I want to help, really, but…it doesn’t really feel like that’s where I am at the moment. Not just physically—obviously—but mentally. We got lucky with Hannah. And that was really only because we had Jake. Adam didn’t have a Jake. Or…maybe he did and I just hadn’t met him yet. But I already had a Jake and I didn’t want another one.

Maybe—if I found him, I could convince him to help. That was a big maybe. Not because I thought Jake would say no. He would say yes to anything I asked of him. The maybe was whether or not I could find him. More likely, the maybe was whether or not he would find me.

Three months ago, I would have been able to come to Duskwood and have no shortage of things I wanted to do and people I wanted to see. Now, as I stand outside Duskwood’s police station, I feel nothing but loneliness. Nobody knows I’m here. I could pass Thomas on the street and he wouldn’t even know it. I could run into Jessy at the library and she would walk by me without even a second thought. Why would they? I hadn’t told them I was here.

So, with nothing left to do, I walked. Toward the town center. Toward the library that Jessy showed me on our walk through Duskwood. Toward the Rainbow Café where I knew that Cleo and Hannah had spent a lot of their time. Toward the Black Swan. Toward—

Ah, what the hell.

I had nothing better to do and The Aurora seemed like a great place to drown my sorrows. To think about my next steps. To figure out—now that I was in Duskwood—what I planned to do. The thing about Jake being so secretive (and on the run) was that I couldn’t retrace his steps. I wasn’t able to ask if anyone had seen him. One, because he would make sure nobody had. And two, because three months was a long time to forget somebody’s face if you didn’t know who you were looking for.

I pull open the door to the bar and step inside. Immediately, I’m hit with the stench of whiskey and a handful of chatter. Duskwood’s a small town. And The Aurora definitely proves it. The bartenders move melodically around each other, serving patrons on the other side of the bar. If you walk down further, there’s a handful of tables.

And dead in the center is a table with my friends. Or, some of them. Dan and Cleo and Lilly. Could I still call them my friends? Ex-friends, maybe? Acquaintances? I didn’t know what they were. Or how to address them. It wasn’t like we had gotten into a fight. We didn’t stop talking for any reason other than that we did. We stopped talking.

I make a beeline for the bar to avoid a confrontation and plant myself on one of the stools. One of the bartenders—a girl cute with bleach blonde hair and brown Bambi eyes—asks what I want and I channel my inner Dan to order a whiskey—neat.

Looking over my shoulder, I focus on the table of them. On Lilly, who’s smiling at something Cleo said. On Dan, who’s the only one of them who actually knows I’m here. But even he’s focused on the conversation they’re having. It’s strange—to see Dan a part of something I’m not sure he would have been before. It’s nice.

“[MC]?”

I turn my head away from the table of my friends and focus my attention across the bar on someone I should’ve expected to see. “Phil.”

“I thought I recognized your voice from when we talked.” He smiles. “I wasn’t sure, but I saw you staring longingly at them—” He nods towards Dan and Cleo and Lilly. “—and I knew. What brings you around here? I expected you to show up maybe a few months ago, but by now, I thought you’d moved on without us.”

I was tired of the words move on. Like I’d had a choice. Like the people from this town might open their arms and welcome me back into their lives. So I’d been part of the group who’d saved Hannah Donfort. So had a lot of people. It didn’t make me special and everyone here knew it.

I offer him a smile in return. “I’m looking for somebody.”

“Anybody I know?” He asks.

I shake my head. “Nah. At least nobody you would recognize.” I pause. “How’s Jessy?”

“She’s—Jessy.” He answers, like that is an answer. “I don’t know if she’ll ever really be okay with the way things happened with Richy. I wouldn’t expect her to. Obviously. But I don’t know. I think I just thought she would have gone back to her normal life by now. And then I remember that most of her life revolved around him. He was her best friend. She worked for him. And I’m trying to be patient about that. But—” He shakes his head. “Maybe you should talk to her.”

“She doesn’t know I’m in town.”

“Okay.” He hums. “So, you’re not in town for my sister. And you’re not in town for your group of friends because they’re over there and you look like you’d rather be anywhere else. There’s always Hannah, but I don’t think you knew her that well. Or at all. Would I be right to assume this is about a certain hacker who helped to find Hannah?”

“He didn’t help find Hannah.” I defend. “He was the entire reason we found Hannah. I would have never been able to do it on my own. Even with the others’ help. He’s the only reason we found out about—” I pause before I say something I maybe shouldn’t. “It doesn’t matter. He’s the only reason we found her. Everything I did was just dumb luck.”

“That wasn’t what the news said.” A voice cuts in and I turn my attention from Phil to focus on the stranger that slides into the seat beside me. Not too close—a couple inches away. I don’t recognize him. I don’t know him. But I don’t know every person in Duskwood. Maybe a total of like nine or ten. “I’m sorry to interrupt. But I heard you had a lot to do with finding Hannah Donfort. The news said you were some kind of hero.”

I offer him a tight smile. “That’s nice of them. But…if they knew my—friend—knew what he did to find her, I don’t think I would be as much of a hero as everybody says.”

“That’s noble.” He says, eyes meeting mine, and it strikes me at once how handsome he is. He has dark hair. Bright green eyes. Focus, [MC]. I scold. You have a…a someone.

My phone buzzes.

ERIC SENT A PHOTO.

ERIC: What do you make of this?

I sigh and click on the photo. It’s of—some object. Much like the one that was addressed to me on the envelope in Adam’s glove compartment. The image is a bit different—but I don’t know enough about what it means to have an answer as to why.

ME: Was this one addressed to me?

ERIC: Nope. Ash.

“Are you okay?” Phil asks.

I clear my throat. “I’m a popular person—apparently.” A thought strikes. “Have you ever heard of a place called Redlog Pines?”

Phil frowns. “No.”

I turn to look at the stranger. “You?”

“Redlog Pines is a small town about two hundred miles north of Duskwood.” He answers. “Known for their wooded forests, much like Duskwood.”

“Why are you looking into a place with forests as creepy as ours?” Phil asks, incredulously. “Didn’t you get enough of that with Hannah’s case?”

“Yeah.” I sigh. “You would think.”

“Hey, [MC]!”

I wince at the sound of Dan’s voice. Shooting Phil a look that screams please help me to which he shakes his head amusedly, I turn and plaster on a fake smile as I take in the shocked looks on Cleo and Lilly’s faces. I should have known better than to come to The Aurora and talk to Phil when the three of them were having a conversation across the room. I should have known they would sooner or later see me. I just hoped it was later.

“Hey.” I hop off my stool and make my way across the bar to them. “It’s, uh, fancy seeing the three of you here.”

“What are you doing here?” Cleo asks.

“I haven’t really figured that out.” My eyes meet Lilly’s. “It sounds crazy to say it out loud. But I was hoping that—I’m not sure if Lilly told you—”

“That Jake’s alive.” Cleo nods. “None of us ever really thought he wasn’t.”

I don’t think she means it as a dig—but it still feels like one. Like she’s saying you gave up on him you gave up on him you gave up on him even though she’s not and she didn’t really know him and the only person I can talk to at this table who even might understand is Lilly and even—Jake didn’t confide in her the way he did me.

“Right.” I acknowledge. “So I thought that maybe if I came here, I could trace his steps from when he was here and—I haven’t really thought that far ahead. It’s not like I thought he left me any clues in the forest or anything like that. I don’t think he expected me to be here. He hadn’t wanted me to be the last time we talked. But that was before everything happened.”

Lilly’s eyes track behind me. “Does Jake still have Nymos on your phone?”

“Uh.” I furrow my brows. “I think so. I hadn’t heard from him in a while, but I went back and read through our messages after I talked to Alan and…my phone glitched, like it used to when Jake had hacked it. And then this message appeared on my screen.”

“And by chance, can Nymos track your location?”

“What—” I shake my head. “Maybe. I don’t think I ever really asked him. It didn’t seem necessary at the time.”

“Uh huh.” She focuses on me once more. “Let’s say, for one minute, that Jake has access to Nymos who has access to your location.”

Cleo must catch onto something I’m not sure of. “Jake didn’t want you here.”

“Uh, thank you?”

“You know that’s not what I mean.” She waves me off. “He didn’t want you in Duskwood. He had been adamant about that when we were talking about the mine. That’s why he went. If you showed up in Duskwood—”

“Nymos would have alerted him.” Dan finishes.

“Okay…” I’m not entirely sure I’m on the same page as them. “So—you think that Jake found out when I came to Duskwood.”

“Correct.” Lilly beams like she just solved life’s greatest mystery.

“And you think he would—come find me?”

She smiles sympathetically at me—like I’m the world’s biggest idiot for not realizing what she has been trying to say sooner. “I think he already has.”

“You think Jake’s in Duskwood.” I deadpan.

“[MC].” Cleo grabs my shoulders and turns me around. “We think he’s in this bar.”

Stranger, as I had nicknamed him—AKA the guy sitting beside me at the bar, with Phil and Redlog Pines (which he probably only knew about because of me) and the whole Hannah being kidnapped and not taking any of the credit thing—was looking back at me. So was Phil. Like they thought I was the crazy one. Like it would’ve been so hard for him to look and me and say it’s me or anything that might have clued me into the fact that—

“Jake?” I whisper, because I’ve lost quite a bit of sleep over the past couple of months and I’m not one hundred percent sure what—or who—I’m seeing is real. “Are you here?”

He tilts his head and smiles at me. Actually smiles. A bit shyly, like it’s something he’s not used to doing, but maybe like it’s something he could get used to. And I think about how terrible I probably look right now because I’m not wearing makeup and my hair is tousled from constantly pulling at it and my clothes are wrinkled from the plane and the police station and I look like a mess. But our relationship has never been about looks. Clearly. I didn’t even know the person I’d been talking to until Lilly and Cleo and even Dan pointed out the obvious.

“If I—” I close my eyes and open them again. Nope. Still there. “I need you to still be there by the time I reach you because it’s been a—” I sniffle. “—it’s been a rough few months and I don’t think I could handle you disappearing again.”

He stands from the stool he was sitting on and shuffles his feet. Like he’s not quite sure where he’s supposed to stand. If he thinks about moving, I’ll tackle him onto the floor of The Aurora and then apologize to Phil later. It feels like everything I wanted is right here in front of me. And I’m scared to death that it’s not real.

“What’s one thing you would take with you if you were stranded on an island?”

His smile stretches. “My computer.”

And that—that’s what breaks me. I think I might start blubbering like an idiot but I don’t remember the time it takes for me to cross the measly twenty feet between us. All I remember is grabbing his black hoodie—because of course—and dragging him to me. I don’t kiss him, despite how much I want to, because I don’t want our first kiss to be tainted with my snot and tears. Instead, I bury my face in his collarbone and wrap my arms around his neck and hold on for dear life.

Because I can. Because he isn’t dead.

“Y—You’re here.” I pull back and cup his face with my hands. “How are you here?”

“You came to Duskwood.” He responds, and then—hesitantly—he presses his lips to my forehead in a kiss. “Alan called you.”

“He found your things in the forest.” I whisper back. “He said they’d been there a while. The police hadn’t searched the forest because they assume you died in the mine.”

“They aren’t looking for me here.” He confirms. “I didn’t expect it to take so long for them to find my belongings, but I anticipated that you would find out. At the time, it wasn’t safe for me to reach out and contact you. They kept on my trail for a while before they assumed I died in the mine with Richy.”

“Why didn’t you contact me then?” I ask. “Is it because of what I last messaged you? I didn’t mean it—I swear, I thought you were dead. If I had known you were alive, I would have waited, however long it took. I wasn’t trying to give up on you.”

“Hey.” He places both hands on either side of my face. “I know. I know that, [MC]. That was never why I didn’t reach out to you. I know you said you wanted this life with me. But I didn’t want that for you. But I was selfish. I couldn’t let you go. So I was trying to find a way to make both of those things true. But I was always coming back to you.”

“And did you?”

“Come back to you?” He asks.

I sniffle. “Find a way to make both of those things true.”

“Not entirely.” He admits. “Nymos alerted me you had boarded a plane headed in the direction of Duskwood and I—” He shook his head. “I knew I would find you here.”

“You could have found me sooner.”

He lets go of my face and he feels like he takes my skin with him. “It wasn’t that easy.”

“It could have been.” I demand.

I’m angry again. Now that I know he’s alive and okay and that he could have found me, I’m angry that he didn’t. I told him I would choose that life with him. Over and over and over. He didn’t need to make the decision for me. He didn’t need to try and protect me. And yes, maybe the fact that he did makes my heart flutter a tiny little bit, but that’s besides the point.

“I told you before you left me.” I tell him and I’m aware it sounds like we’ve been in a relationship for five years and I’m aware that everybody in here is watching and listening in on our conversation and they probably all know we’re who we are, two people involved in helping to find the kidnapped Hannah Donfort, and maybe that’s all we’ll ever be in this town. But I would rather be the girl who found Hannah Donfort in Duskwood with him than be me anywhere else. “You told me you would let me go with you.”

“That was before I told you I loved you.”

My heart skips a beat. It screams I love you I love you I love you back, but I say— “What does that have to do with anything?”

He looks somewhat amused. Like he knows I would never hold it against him. It’s clear to both of us that I wouldn’t because even though I’m glaring up at him with my furrowed eyebrows and my lips pouted, I’m still pressed tightly against him. His hands—even though they’ve moved from my face—are now resting on my hips. Pulling my tighter to him. There’s no space in between us. If it was up to me, I’m pretty sure there never would be again.

“[MC].” He says, and oh god I wish he would say my name every day for the rest of his life. “Have I—in the short time we have known each other—ever struck you as the type of person who says I love you? But with you…” His words are a whisper against my lips. “It’s easy to fall back into old emotions with you.”

“I want to be angry with you.” I tell him.

He shakes his head. “No, you don’t.”

“No, I don’t.” I agree. “But I might be if you don’t kiss me.”

He brought one finger underneath my chin and tilted it up until our lips were separated by a fraction of an inch. My eyelids fluttered. I didn’t care that everyone in here was about to see just how much Jake meant to be. I didn’t care because I had waited too long for this. And then—just as I’m leaning toward him to press our lips together, he whispers— “[MC]?”

“Hm.” I acknowledge.

“Who’s Eric?”

My eyelids crack open and I shove at his chest. “That’s what you’re worried about right now? Here I am, in front of you, covered in snot and tears and who-knows-what-else because you’re here right now, and you’re worried about some guy I don’t even know?”

“Who’s Eric?” He repeats.

“Ugh.” I run my hands through my hair and take a step back. “I don’t know. He’s the other side of Thomas or whatever you want to call him. If we lived in a different town.” I glare back at him and try not to admit that I think his jealous side is a little cute. “He messaged me. Thought I picked up his friend from some parking lot and I didn’t, but his friend sent him my number, and it was Hannah all over again. I’m trying to help them.”

“This Adam has been sending you a lot of videos.”

“You know I hate when you hack my phone.” I complain, even though I really don’t. Even though I had prayed for him to help me with this case. “I really don’t know Adam. Like—even less than I know Eric.

“But you know Eric.”

“For like a week.” I reassure. “He added me to this group chat with him and like three other friends of his. They’re desperate to find Adam who has apparently dropped off the face of the earth and I don’t know what to do. I had you with Hannah’s case. And you knew her. And they—” I look over my shoulder at Cleo and Dan and Lilly, who are pretending like they’re not listening in even though I know and Jake knows they are. “—they knew her. And obviously Adam’s friends must know him but I don’t and you don’t and there is no Jake in Redlog Pines.”

“I don’t trust him.” He shakes his head. “Any of them.”

I laugh. “Jake, you didn’t trust half the people in this bar when we first started talking.” I look over at Phil and then Dan. “It doesn’t mean they committed a crime. If I had backed off when you asked me to help you find Hannah, we may never have.”

“I thought that was all thanks to me.” He sounds smug, like that little smiley face he loved to annoy me with (AKA make me fall in love with him). “Did he flirt with you?”

“No.” I deadpan. “I think he was focused on his missing friend.”

“I was focused on my missing sister.” He shoots back.

I close my mouth. Alright. He has a point. But I wasn’t flirting with Eric. He was focused on finding Adam and I was focused on mourning—and then finding—Jake. Maybe it felt like Eric and I were two sides of the same coin. Maybe that’s why I agreed to help him. Because I didn’t want to happen to him what I thought had happened to Jake—to me.

“You’re being ridiculous.” I say instead. “How do you think I could ever entertain the idea of being with somebody else when for the past three months—more than that if you count the time we have actually had together—I’ve been focused on you? On discussing Hannah with you and then talking to you about anything and everything and then worrying about you and then hating you a little for convincing me you should me the one to go into the mine and then mourning you when it was hard to even think about you and then finding you?”

His eyes are wide. I think I’ve rendered him speechless. Which—serves him right. I know he’s not somebody who serves their feelings up on a silver platter. I know that. Obviously, I knew that from the first time I spoke to him. Back when he was nothing more than ??? and I was almost convinced that Dan was right and he was the Man Without A Face—a thought that I now hate with everything in me. But I need him to trust me. Jealousy streak and FBI and the missing persons cases aside, he needs to trust me.

“Trust me.” I cup the sides of his face again. “He’s nothing like you.”

He swallows. “Some people might consider that to be a perk.”

“I don’t.” I say.

And then I’m kissing him and it feels like coming home.

#duskwood #duskwood everbyte #duskwood game #duskwood jake #duskwood jake x mc #moonvale everbyte #moonvale #duskwood fanfic #duskwood mc #everbyte game #everbyte studios

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sugary-daydreams3 · 2 months ago

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Quiet inbetween [Sukuna x Reader]

Summary: Collections of quiet, cozy, intimate moments you share with Sukuna, who thinks you two won't last a year. Someone who used to live a wild, fast-paced, loud lifestyle couldn't possibly be fit for a long-term relationship. But he doesn't know that you're the one he needed this whole time.

Word Count: 3.7K words

Rating: Mostly fluff with a little spice (sexual content) at the end, but no full explicit content. Mostly T with a little M.

A/N: Happy holidays y'all. This might be my last fic posted in the year so I hope you guys transition into the new year safely. Goodness, do I love writing my A.U. version of Sukuna. So fun and flirty that he makes me blush sometimes and I control what he says. But I guess that's a good thing, right. Sadly my next fic is dealing with a not so fun topic, haha. (It's Gojo-centric, so you might know where I'm going with this) Anyways, stay safe out there and I'll see you again in 2025. Enough yapping from me, enjoy!

Normal, quiet moments tend to bring discomfort within Sukuna. Dating trouble as a teen limited his time to sit and enjoy the small pleasures of life. He was all about the grand, overwhelming, taboo pleasures that one wouldn’t dare chase but rather daydream about. Or worse, make simulation games about and live out their guilty pleasures vicariously through fictional characters. But with taboo pleasures come consequences which landed him in jail for some time.

Within the year after his release, he met you which slowly inspired him to alter his fast, vicious lifestyle. You introduced him to things he never would have found himself participating in. Things he used to tease his twin brother for being a sheep for society for. A mom-and-pop coffee shop was one of them.

“How do you drink this shit?” Sukuna sticks out his tongue. Tanned liquid trapped in your mouth almost spills. Air blows from your nose, signifying your amusement at Sukuna’s first experience with coffee.

Swallowing down the first sip of your coffee, your eyes admire Sukuna’s childlike distaste for your go-to morning beverage. “Because I order mine with cream, sugar, and caramel. You’re pretty much drinking burnt black water.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that before?”

You give him a “really?” look. “I said you should start out with the caramel Frappuccino but you said, and I quote.” You notch your voice down several pitches lower. “The hell I look like drinking that sissy shit.”

“You could have recommended me any other drink but this. This was a terrible first impression.”

“I can order you another one to make up for it.”

Sukuna pouts. “I’ll pass. I fear I’ll be disappointed again.”

“Sukuna, you just drink straight black coffee, you can’t write the whole thing off just because you had one variation of it. That’s like saying “I hate potatoes” because you ate unsalted, lukewarm fries.” Sukuna scrunches his face.

“That’s not the same.”

“Yes, it is. It’s a perfect comparison.”

“It’s two completely different scenarios. You really thought you schooled me with that, huh.”

“Shut up. I’m ordering you a new drink.”

Waiting for his redemption cup, Sukuna stares at you typing away on your laptop computer. Your hair curtains over part of your face, tempting Sukuna to reach over and fix it. Yet the messy hair curtain highlights your beauty so effortlessly, he couldn’t stop adoring your natural radiance.

The strong smell of roast occasionally makes its mark. Ranges of chatter mingle with the loud cycle of brewing and baking. Quirky, cheesy posters hang all over, providing a drowning sense of positivity and relatability. Generic chill music slithers through the atmosphere, failing to chill Sukuna’s social anxiety. Thankfully, his new drink just came to save the moment.

Taking a drink from the flat white laced with sugar and cream, he sits back to allow his brain to register. His eyebrows raise with a small smack of his mouth, giving you some hope that coffee redeemed itself on the oh so great Sukuna’s tastebuds.

“Well?” You ask impatiently.

“Not bad. Could use more sugar but it’s drinkable.” Sukuna reviews. A pleased smile killed your worry. “I’m glad you gave it a second chance. I hope we can have more coffee dates like this.”

Sukuna narrows his eyes. “This is a date?”

Your eyes roll. “No this is a job interview.”

“I’m not one for customer service but if I get to look at you all day long and the pay is good then sign me up.” You hate that something as corny as that made you blush.

“Hush Sukuna, of course this is a date. This is like our twelfth time seeing each other, I like to think all of the time we spent together so far wasn't a waste of time.”

“Ooh someone’s no-nonsense.” Sukuna smirks, large arms crossed.

You sigh, “I’m just over the hookups and the flings. Honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t just one-and-done me.”

“Eh, all of the one-night conquests and strictly sex ordeals were starting to get stale. You got a nice face with a body to match. You’re on no bullshit and are fun for the most part. You haven't bored me yet so I don’t mind continuing this.”

“Yet?”

“I tend to get bored with my women so I wouldn't hold hope of this lasting past a year. Just letting you know so the heartbreak will hurt a little less.”

You smirk, amused by his lack of filter. “Well, a year will be record breaking compared to my recent relationships these last few years. So bring it.”

Your polished nails navigate the grassy fields of dusty pink, natural hair oil inked on your fingertips. Your poor thighs are weighed down under his dumbbells for arms. Your other hand caress Sukuna’s right bicep, fixating on the jet black tattoos contrasting with his pale skin. He rubs your left knee as he rests against your stomach.

Sukuna releases a deep sigh, letting go of the temporary stresses of life. He’ll rather die than admit it but this is what he mostly looks forward to when he goes about his day. It took him a while to get used to you being positioned behind him, often side eyeing the first few times you two were like this.

Call it trust issues. Slam the non-medical diagnosis of PTSD resulted from a rough upbringing and life as a criminal. Or if we’re really getting psychological, throw out the fancy “internalized misanthropy” word. Re-fucking-gardless, he’s always been highly aware and on guard whenever people are in close proximity to him, ever since he was a kid.

Now, the more he allows himself to turn his brain off in your lap the easier you hear him lightly snoring within several minutes. You giggle as his resting figure emits loud snores thirty minutes in of scalp scratching and head caressing.

“Sweet dreams.” You reach down to peck warmth on his forehead.

Your wishes go unnoticed as child-like ease warps itself across face tattoos and a sharp jawline. A surprisingly dynamic clash.

Your laughter saturates the kitchen space accompanied by music from the vintage radio. Flour dressed your behemoth all over, making it the sight of the century. Sukuna frowns as he attempts to smooth the pizza dough with the rolling pin. Tears edge your eyes; the catastrophe he was causing was funnier than any standup comedy.

“Hush. You're breaking my focus.” Sukuna was struggling to knead the dough enough to be a thin foundation. It usually ends up shaping to be a deep dish or just a regular sized pizza. This was his third effort to mold the pizza, with two “epic failures” baking in the oven.

When your laughter demoted to light chuckles, you rub his arm for support. “You know I can help you shape the dough. It took me fifteen tries before making an objectively decent pizza.” Sukuna shakes his head.

“That’s because you were the one making it. It’s gonna be perfect this time.” Sukuna smooths out the dough and smirks at his “perfectly” thin pizza. You roll your eyes and walk over to gather the cheese and other toppings.

The pizza rises within the oven, gluing the toppings within the cheese. Sukuna watches it carefully from the kitchen island, like his life depended on whether this Thursday night dinner was great or not.

A marathon of T.V. commercial ramblings was bugging background noise as you tidied up. The other two pizzas sat on the cooling rack, being forgotten tasty mistakes. Flour ages his hair many decades, snowing down his chest with every tiny movement. He turns to see an unlikely troublemaker look down at him, a small hill of flour ready to be thrown from your palm. Sukuna narrows his eyes with a challenging look.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, darling.”

“Game on.” You threw it, igniting a two-man war.

The remaining time for the perfect pizza to cook filled with flour fights, spotting majority of the kitchen with white powder. The cooking timer goes off as you two lay across the table exchanging flour and zeal between prolonged smooches.

This epic fantasy was seducing your imagination during the mundane hours of the late evening. You sense Sukuna spying on you and your book from the corner of your eye. However, the clever arrangement of words trailing above your bookmark helps you ignore him.

“How do you read these things? That shit looks bigger than The Bible.” Sukuna pokes at the spine of your novel, trailing over the gold-engrained lettering.

“I don’t judge stories based on length. If it’s engaging enough then I wouldn’t mind reading three hundred-plus pages of something.”

“Where do you find the time to invest in a story that long?” Sukuna wasn’t even teasing at this point; he was genuinely curious.

“People watch 10 seasons worth of television or animes with more than 100 episodes.”

“Watching TV and reading are different no matter how much you try to make them feel the same. I can simply turn on the T.V. and watch 100 episodes of something without exerting much energy. You have to sit up, read so many words, and decipher hundreds of pages worth of story. It’s not the same.”

“True, I’ll give you that. I just find it funny that people draw the line at consuming a story through reading only because you have to put a little more effort in it.” You bounced back.

Sukuna rubbed his chin. “I remember being into poetry and haikus a lot as a teenager. But I started getting involved in other shit so I lost interest along the way.”

You snap to him, no longer being a silent witness to a passionate kissing scene. “You like poetry?”

“I suppose. I always liked how poets managed to craft thoughts so elegantly. Perfectly describing the complicated or unsaid.”

“You know the local bookstore down the street has a whole section of poetry books. What’s your favorite poets? I could buy you some of their latest work.” Your comforter became a temporary bookmark with your book lying face down.

“Hmm, I don’t really have a favorite poet. I used to buy a bunch of random poetry or haiku books and kept the ones that stuck with me. There is one writer that I really like though...”

You wait in anticipation as you witness him in thought. Simple things like racking his brain makes him a cutie. Sukuna snaps his fingers.

“Ahh, Yosa Takahama is his name. His work is usually written in Japanese but some translators re-publish them in their mother’s tongue. His work is hard to find around here though. I don’t even know how I managed to snag one of his books in the first place.”

Despite the challenge, you were determined to get it for him. “I’ll figure out a way to get you one. That way we could be reading buddies.”

“You don’t have to do all of that, doll. You’ll rip your hair out trying to find those books. I’m fine watching you ignore me in favor of a book that can knock your teeth out.” You chuckle.

During the rest of the night, you noticed the boredom on Sukuna’s face as he mindlessly consumes television. The least you can do is try to hunt down this haiku book for him. Dating him for some time, he confessed to losing touch with so many hobbies he grew up with over the last few years. You wanted to bring that inner child back to life, killed by proving to the world how tough he was.

Getting him to read something that actually interests him can be another way to embrace the innocent pleasures in life. You can tell he misses that wild delinquency some days, but you hope he doesn’t miss it enough to end this relationship over. If you can find it, hopefully it can be a building block that rebuilds his new path after leaving the old behind. Anything to help you be closer to him.

6 weeks later

Sukuna emerges from the bathroom. The odors of the food he cooked from his restaurant today were replaced with standard soap and his natural scent. Like every other night, you sat with your book, seemingly ignoring Sukuna’s lingering stare.

After dressing himself, he sinks on the mattress and attempts to lay against his pillow. His thick neck isn't met with the soft cushion but instead a hard surface in the middle area. He stares at his pillow, offended for it not providing comfort, so he lifts it up. A white hardcover book reveals.

“What’s this?” He asked, not turning to you yet. You shift from the words to your boyfriend’s confusion. “I don’t know where that came from. Maybe the book fairy paid you a visit.” You played dumb.

“You’re so corny.” He holds up the book.

“A corny girl you’ve been dating for almost a year now.”

“Quiet. I’m trying to see what this is.” Sukuna didn’t even examine the title, the pages of the book flutter until he lands on a random page. He reads aloud.

“Vindictive winter / A white, mighty rabbit looks / betrayed by the king / ...wait.” Sukuna looks at you and you copy his shocked expression.

“This is Yosa Takahama’s stuff. How did you even get this? This must have cost you a fortune.”

“It was costly and took me weeks to find a readable copy but the look on your face right now makes it worth it. I wanted you to read with me instead of being a T.V. zombie. Even if that means reading mind fuckery haikus.” You chuckle.

Sukuna grabs your waist from the side and unleashes many wet pecks around your cheek, neck, and upper chest. You giggle as you brush his hair and hug him back.

“I appreciate it.”

“No big deal.” You replicate his cool cat version of “You’re welcome.” that he usually throws at you. Sukuna smirks at the playful imitation.

The rest of the evening is spent with you two lost in your own worlds of literature. Your brains mixed imagination, broadened perspectives, and emotional intelligence from honeyed words inked against the white.

“I’m too big for this tub. You barely have any room to stretch your legs.” Sukuna commented.

He adjusted his position behind you, the bubbles shifting from his large body. Your feet rested on the tip of the tub to keep from smushing against the porcelain. You turn to him, offering a reassuring smile. He snickers at your ridiculous face mask, particularly the cucumbers concealing your eyes.

“No, you’re not. You say that every time you get in with me. You’re fine Kuna, really.”

Sukuna rests his arms around the top edges of the tub, leaning back to make himself comfortable in his slightly cramped soak. The warm water, Epsom salt, and meditation music playing from your phone kneads away the hidden tension that plagues his body from the everyday.

“Before I met you, I haven't taken a bath in almost fifteen years.” He confesses.

“That sounds so disgusting out of context.” You cringe. Sukuna chuckles.

“You know what I mean.”

“I can’t imagine going that long without a bath. Baths are way better than showers.” You admitted.

“Showers are for a quick wash. Baths are more for relaxation.”

“I shower for fifteen minutes minimum, thirty-five minutes max. I spend about three minutes just letting the hot water hit my body and think about whatever. There’s no way I can just shower for ten minutes or less.”

“Is that why you’re so smoking.” Sukuna flirted. You shake your head, “That was so corny, Kuna. C’mon you can flirt better than that.”

“You’re right. I just wanted to see your reaction.”

You two enjoy each other’s company. The heat protects you from winter and the sheet of bubbles float around and pop within. Sukuna arms lay over yours, rubbing over your wrist. Sukuna focuses on your face and develops a sense of mischief.

“Babydoll.”

“Yeah?”

“Turn around for me.”

You quirk a brow but obeyed by slowly turning his way. In a swift motion, Sukuna moves forward and bites off the cucumber sitting on your right eye. Your right vision sees Sukuna munching on your edible eye mask.

“Really, Kuna? You couldn’t resist temptation to eat that?” You scolded. You take off the other cucumber, abandoning your hopes to keep your eyelids nice and fresh. Sukuna steals the other cucumber from your hand and flings it in his mouth.

“You’re impossible to relax with sometimes.”

“Thanks for the snack.” Sukuna mumbles through chewing.

You sigh then lay against his chest and close your eyes. If he was going to interrupt your beauty routine the least he can do is be your pillow.

Sukuna big toe hugs your own after caressing your right foot. Both of your feet poke out from the thick blanket, suffering from the gentle lashes of the nippy air condition. You rest your head on his squishy but firm chest, goosebumps forming from his rough hands brushing your skin.

“We should light the fireplace.” You suggested.

Sukuna let out a lazy sigh, “What you really mean is that I should light it.”

“Yeah, you should.”

“I could but I fear I’ll turn into a popsicle.”

You giggle. “Hey, at least you’ll taste good.”

Sukuna smirks, “I already taste good. You should know out of anyone.”

You playfully shrug. “Eh, you’re alright. No fine dining though.”

“Oh really?”

“Yep.”

“How about you taste this then.”

Sukuna leans down and traps your lips in the moment. His lips were smaller than yours yet they managed to govern the heat stirring between each lingering kiss. The frigid air in the room is forgotten in your minds as you and Sukuna make out under the grey blanket. After a couple minutes of sensual touching and lip pulls, Sukuna goes for your neck.

“Well?” Sukuna lands soft bites inches under your chin.

“I was just kidding earlier but that was...”

“Better than fine dining?”

“I don’t know what’s better than fine dining but, yeah, better than that.”

Sukuna chuckles, “Glad to remind you.”

Sukuna “accidentally” lands a hard bite just above your collarbone, caging a pleasured groan within closed lips. Sukuna kisses the forming red patch, “Sorry baby, got a little greedy there.”

“I hope I give you a brain freeze.” You joked, trying to take your mind off the aching spot.

Sukuna hooks his finger around the side of your silk underwear, his other hand slowly appreciates your ass. “I’m sure it’ll be worth it.”

Your body slowly rocks on top of him, the yellow and orange from the fireplace illuminate your dips and curves. The aftershocks of your second orgasm calm down, giving you the signal to stop riding him. One hand caresses the trimmed hairs sprinkled across Sukuna’s chest. The other traces the small gold chain decorating his pecs. Sukuna squeezes the body fat from your hips then pats your left butt cheek.

You hop off and lay down on the blanket you set down for your second round. Sukuna pulls off the condom and gets up to throw it away. The contained fire warms your naked body from a distance, defending you from the army of white cold. You hum while the fire entertains you until Sukuna comes back. He’s wearing the boxers he had on earlier with the embroidered knife patterns. Where he got those kinds of boxers you may never know.

Sukuna drops the pillow he stole from the couch then sits down on the blanket. He pulls you towards him and you two lie down together. You perform his signature trait, pushing his hair back, enabling his wild look. Sukuna traces your spine, quietly admiring both how strong and weak one’s bone structure could be.

“I never thought I would enjoy silly things like sitting in front of a fireplace during winter.”

“It’s silly?”

“Not really. I guess I just associated this with Christmas activities. Christmas always seemed too cheesy to me so I associated things like this as silly holiday stuff.”

“Yeah, I get it. Sex in front of the fireplace, just silly wholesome Christmas activities.” You joked. You instantly felt Sukuna’s laughter rumble throughout his chest. After calming down he gives your arm a light pinch.

“You know what I mean.”

“I’m just happy you allowed me to bring some mellow in your life. I remember when I met you, you were always in some crazy illegal trouble. It seemed like I could barely keep up with you and your fast-paced lifestyle.”

“Yeah, it was fun for a while, I’ll admit. Even getting caught had some sort of thrill. Now that I’m pushing thirty, I just feel over it.”

You chuckle, “Not a spring chicken as you used to be.”

“Yeah. I suppose every hot shot has their limit.”

“Well, I’m proud that you’re beginning to settle down. I know your brother is too.” You rub his cheek.

“I was surprised when he offered to help me set up my fight clubhouse. He’s usually against violence and shit.”

“Maybe he thought that it would be a nice distraction from your life with crime. Even if it meant supporting you doing something he also doesn’t like. Like a lesser of two evils kind of thing.”

“I never knew someone so predictable yet unpredictable at the same time more than him.” Sukuna said. You giggle then sprawl your hands across Sukuna’s abdomen, trailing over the ridges in a playful matter. Sukuna tender gaze studies your features as he softly pulls little cushions of your skin.

“Thank you for sticking with me.”

You look up to see the wild orange shadowing his strong features. His usual too cool-for-school attitude was replaced with a loving nature only reserved for you. A nature molded by small, seemingly insignificant moments sparked by a mutual agreement of casual dating. You plant a few kisses against his jawline then lay back on his chest.

Before your eyes close for the night, you slur a few words that gets a smile out of Sukuna. “Guess you’re stuck with me now.”

#sukuna x reader #no use of y/n #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #a little spicy #quiet time #reading #jin itadori mentioned #sukuna learns that being quiet and cozy ain't so bad

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kyri45 · 2 months ago

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✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 07/12✨

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

Anonimo ha chiesto: Ok hear me out, what if Mac and Wukong talk about how afraid of dying Wukong is and how that fear now also applies to MK and maybe even Mac too

aaaaahh how about the fact that now Wukong is MROE afraid of MK dying than himself (since that's basically what happened in S5)

Anonimo ha chiesto: I am just imagining how will shadowpeach relationship improve that they will start courting each other and mk is like.. :0 DAMN U SURE UR THE SAME MONKEYS AS WHEN YOU WERE TRYING TO KILL EACH OTHER!!!

BOY SURE THEY ARE!!!

@kristea9ay ha chiesto: Love your last post! I need more Spicynoodles content ISTG 😭 but the last post got me thinking, has anyone told Red what MK attempted to do? Or did MK just randomly mention it during a conversation. MK: oh yeah, I found out I could teleported right before I was about to sacrifice myself- Red: YOU-WHAT?! MK: right?? I didn't even know I could do that! Do you know how much easier delivering noodles would have been? Red: no- you- NOODLE BOY-!

LMAO POOR RED SON EVERY DAY MK PULLS OUT A NEW SHENANIGAN

Anonimo ha chiesto: Please show us Macaque courtnapping wukong in the past 🙏🙏🙏 Anonimo ha chiesto: Can, can we see what Macaque actually DID to courtnap Wukong? Please? Please and thank you? With a cherry on top? AND with an ice cream sundae!!!

I wasn't lying when I said it really was the tickle war. A very jealous tickle war.

@beanspassin ha chiesto: OMG I just had a thought!!! What if when MK finally gets the hang of his shadow powers, shadow portals to be specific- ITS WHEN HES COURTNAPPING REDSON!!!! >:3c

AAAWW THAT COULD BE ADORABLEE!! Unfortunately MK is not able to make shadow powers at all, there are certain powers that just he didn't inherit

Anonimo ha chiesto: What will we see first Shadowpeach marriage OR spicynodlles marriage??

Oh man I don't know, I want to say Shadowpeach since Spicynoodle is still a pretty new couple. They are both young (I mean, MK is) and still need some times to know each other.

Anonimo ha chiesto: I need more of wukong and Mk picking up there boyfriends like there bags of grapes. love me some stronk boyfriends

THEY ARE STRONKKKK I would see Wukong just lifting the whole fam

Anonimo ha chiesto: 1st- I LOVE YOUR COMIC! Is so good! Your stories make me want to draw and create and I really want to thank you because they do inspire me. I love your linework and your use of shape and YOUR EXPRESSIONS!?? Ugh! they are lovely 💕 With that said. And I am sorry if this is a weird question but with MK and Swk being trans and Mac seemingly not, I was wondering if you had any hcs with Mac’s gender? I’ve seen a bunch of the fandom hc mac as either nb, genderfluid or a trans woman. And I found it funny that he is now the cis monkey 😂. So I though I’ll ask. Also totally fine if you hc him as cis! Is just that at least with the fandom I interact with the one that tends to be the trans one is Macaque so It was honestly nice se SWK for a change! But I still wonder, you know? Anyways! Have a good day!

mmmm nope I don't. I don't have any preferences either so any of you can feel free on giving them any kind of headcanon. Anonimo ha chiesto:

*Jumps through window* OW OH HI JUST WANTED TO POP IN AND SAY I LOVE YOUR SHADOWPEACH SERIES OKAY BYE *runs through a wall* @honktraband01 ha chiesto: OUGHHHHHH YOUR ART AND STORYTELLING IS PHENOMENAL!!!! I CAN’T GET ENOUGH!!! (Especially the ShadowPeach AU omg) and I’m so excited for whenever the next part comes out I practically screamed when Mac dropped part of his glamour omg. I may or may not have decided to finally start binging LMK because of this au… and may also be working on various bits of fan art…. So THANK YOU!!! I’ve been in-between hyperfixations and this fixed it :33 @mistress-of-nightmares ha chiesto: So I discovered your Shadowpeach bio parents AU two weeks ago on a sunday evening and my weekly phone screentime thingamabob came this Monday and. My tumblr activity has tripled in a single week. Bc I re-read your comic like four times. Jsyk 👌 Anonimo ha chiesto: I just wanted to let you know that your art is amazing, and your shadowpeach AU is the reason I binged the entire LMK series in 2 weeks. Anonimo ha chiesto: This is not a question. I just want to say I love your shadowpeach bio dad au, and I hope you have a good life and be happy and never give up what makes you happy and I know I like it because when something makes me feel less tired and more happy I know it is a great thing to have so keep it going 💜💜💜

majoraofmask ha chiesto: I LOVE YOUR ART AO MUCH! Both of your comic series have my brain in a chokehold and I do not want to let go! Your art and character writing is so tasty! Gradients my beloved ♥️♥️ zazzalonies ha chiesto: Your comic brings me life, I was drifting out of the fandom until I found this and it’s the best thing I’ve found on tumbler, that you for your work 🥰🥰 m4delin ha chiesto: I have never seen the lego monkey kid series, but I'm super hooked onto the bio dad au. it's amazing

AJCCBOADCB THANK YOU FOR ALL THE LOVE GUYS!!!

@dragonaboni-blog ha chiesto: Hi! I'm thinking of doing a redraw of a scene from Shadowpeach AU (I won't say which one, it's a secret ;3) But I'd like to know if you have a color reference of Redson, pretty please~ OwO

If you wait just a little more I might draw him with colors, but until then very sorry but not at the moment.

Anonimo ha chiesto: So Umm since we got macaque being under moonlight shall we get wukong with sunshine??

Well he is most of the time under the sunshine but maybe we will see him absolutely shining.

Anonimo ha chiesto: does Mac experience anything else during esclipes? Mood swings? Angst? 👀 Hormones? 👀👀👀👀👀 I suspect SWK would be right there for him. It would be so cute to see him help Macque. 🥰

I guess he does have mood swings and also tirediness. He's more sleepy but at same time can't sleep. It doesn't hurt him but he feels the fact that he is weaker.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Ok but in ch.14 of vol.1 of JTTW, Wukong pilfers one of Tripitaka's old shirts and Tripitaka sees him wearing it and says he can keep it. Canon Wukong steals clothes from the people around him!!

AWWW HE GOT A COLLECTION OF LOVED ONES CLOTHES!

#shadowpeach bio parents au #ask box

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isa-ghost · 9 days ago

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✨️ The Philverse Lore Masterpost ✨️

So I planned on making this a while ago and forgot but now I'm doing it.

And the formatting of this post MAY change in the future (like me providing other reference links and such for each Phil), but for now I'm gonna keep it simple.

This post is an explanation of how the Philza Cinematic Universe(tm) works, along with some widely accepted fanon things. It will update as cc!Phil changes things or canonizes new ones.

"Main" rp!Phil

"Main" Phil is Hardcore (hc) Phil, SMP Earth (smpe) Phil, DSMP (c) Phil, and QSMP (q) Phil. This is also the Phil that The Beginning by MaepleTea features.

It's important to note here that rp!Phil is canonically immortal (this is probably true for ALL rp!Phils, not just "main" Phil, cc!Phil has said things along these lines on multiple occasions in the past).

cc!Phil has described rp!Phil has hundreds of years old, though we have no idea how many centuries he's been alive. What we've seen is more or less just the last decade of his life, unless cc!Phil chooses to construct a timeline that says otherwise.

The timeline goes something like this:

HCS2 -> SMPE -> HCS4 -> DSMP -> QSMP -> ???

Obviously it's not linear like that, HCS4 is simultaneously going on during SMPE, DSMP & QSMP. In roleplay, the canon explanation is that hc!Phil can travel to other universes through what is basically dreamwalking. This gets explicitly confirmed in QSMP lore.

In other words, the Hardcore World is rp!Phil's universe of origin. A common headcanon related to this is that all seasons of Hardcore are one universe, which resets itself each time rp!Phil dies. After each reset, rp!Phil retains his memories of the previous iteration and starts over again, but with new knowledge to avoid dying again.

A better way to visualize this timeline would be to refer to IRL dates, like this (click for better quality):

Note: I didn't include HCS3 because it lasted like two weeks. Consider it a blip in rp!Phil's long immortal lifespan, if anything. I also didn't include HCS1 because Phil basically never refers to it other than the way that it ended. Considering there wasn't really any lore about hc!Phil being a historian/explorer prior to HCS4 anyway, this is basically fine to assume.

All of the above being the same guy is canonically confirmed, either explicitly stated BY cc!Phil himself, or with undeniable implications within roleplay.

SMP Earth is the only one of these that gets a little iffy to call confirmed because it's never been explicitly stated and technically SMPE wasn't a roleplay server, BUT: Considering the references and parallels c!Emduo make when they move to the tundra to get away from the rest of the DSMP, it becomes pretty obvious it can be considered canon. There are also multiple occasions where c!Emduo refer to what they did during the Antarctic Empire times. Furthermore, and I'll reiterate this in a moment: q!Phil tells stories to Chayanne & Lullah of things he and rp!Techno did during SMPE.

HCS2 (more specifically Phil's death) obviously gets referred to constantly in and out of roleplay, making it canon whether cc!Phil wants/considers it to be or not. This is one of few deaths we know rp!Phil has experienced, if not the only one. I imply there may be multiple deaths here because I don't remember if cc!Phil confirmed that rp!Phil died at the end of The Beginning before being saved by Goddess of Death or not. If so, that means rp!Phil has died at least twice: then, and in HCS2.

QSMP is actually the key universe to all of these other Phils being connected, since that is where cc!Phil chose to do lore to confirm all of these are the same guy. Prior to QSMP, we only knew SMPE and DSMP were connected thanks to c!Emduo.

QSMP confirmed that q!Phil is hc!Phil formally via the dreamwalking lore. Additionally, prior to this lore being dropped, again: there were multiple instances in which q!Phil told Chayanne & Lullah stories from his time on SMPE. Obviously, if SMPE is canon to both DSMP and QSMP, then those two are also connected by default. These stories were not the only reference to DSMP made during QSMP either. Multiple previous DSMP members also canonized DSMP and QSMP being connected.

And during all of this, rp!Phil is dreamwalking from the Hardcore World to these other worlds.

Origins SMP Phil (o!Phil)

This version of Phil is his own separate guy with a fully unique story from "main" Phil.

While "main" Phil is an immortal historian and explorer from Hardcore that can travel to other worlds via his dreams, o!Phil is an even more avian-coded guy trying his hardest to be a villain but failing at it miserably /aff.

As confirmed by cc!Phil: o!Phil comes from a dirt poor family who didn't want him to suffer the horrific reality of living in poverty, so his parents spoiled him rotten to the point of making themselves suffer. They later mysteriously disappeared (and are likely now dead). o!Phil's story in-rp (eventually) begins with him searching for them.

o!Phil has no idea he's not actually the entitled royalty he thinks he is. He eventually bonds with o!Sneeg, who chooses to be a "villain" with him, and they have a whole riveting, silly, weird ass codependent besties thing going on for the rest of Origin's multiple reboots. Their friendship in OSMP is what inspired 1/3 of the current theories for tr!Phil, who I'll get to momentarily.

o!Phil also canonically appeared in Rats SMP as a guest, as did o!Sneeg. They were searching for each other in the wake of OSMP "ending" (read: dying, again), and this intensified the fandom's interpretation that they're inseparable/codependent. This cameo also confirmed that both o!Phil and o!Sneeg can travel universes like "main" Phil.

Another important note: Some Crows consider cc!Phil's cameo in Aimsey SMP (ASMP) to be o!Phil because they share very similar attitudes and penchants for material goods, especially "shiny things."

Squidcraft Phil (sc!Phil)

The easiest rp!Phil to explain. cc!Phil himself said that sc!Phil is an alternate timeline version of "main" Phil, specifically q!Phil.

This is probably only due to the fact that Missa and several other QSMP members were in 2023's Squidcraft event, and cc!Phil couldn't resist being an angsty little shit with Missa throughout the event until his elimination.

The Realm SMP Phil (tr!Phil)

As of early 2025 when I'm making this post, we have no idea how tr!Phil fits into the Philverse. cc!Phil explicitly states he has no plans or intentions whatsoever to do lore on TRSMP, even if he does roleplay with other players like Sneeg or Fit. Assuming he doesn't change his mind on that, the following is ENTIRELY what the fandom headcanons/theorizes is true.

There are 3 main interpretations for tr!Phil's origin and I explain those in depth in this post here!

If or when we get more to go off of, I will update this section of the post. :)

Bonus Note(s)

MCC

The MCYT fandom widely headcanons MCC as a weird multiverse Hunger Games type thing where Noxcrew and Scott Smajor, whatever kind of higher power they may be, drag MCYTs across several universes into their little liminal space/pocket universe type place and have them to compete in the championship.

There have been references to MCC in SMPs during moments of varying degrees of roleplay were occurring. In rp!Phil's case, it's safe to consider "main" Phil is the one who gets put into MCC.

None of this, to my memory, is considered canon by cc!Phil, just silly popular fanon.

(If/when we get more versions of rp!Phil, I'll add them wherever they belong in this post!)

#philza #philza hardcore #qsmp #dsmp #trsmp #the realm smp #origins smp #osmp #hc!philza #c!philza #q!philza #tr!philza #o!philza #Isa's Crow Shitposts #Philverse

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hazybisou · 1 year ago

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❛ HYBE BOY ❜

🧸🩰 i’m a lucky fella, i’ve just got to tell her that i love her endlessly

summary - quinn hughes, captain of the Vancouver Canucks, is dating model, y/n y/l/n and hard launches his relationship leaving people shocked at how beautiful she is and making his brothers question how he managed to pull her.

pairing - model!f!reader x quinn hughes

side note - miranda kerr will be used as a faceclaim for the ig posts. but like she’s so beautiful omgggg 😻😻 *careless whisper starts playing* anyways uni is going so well. my professors are so chill like literally it’s amazing. i barely know anyone here (yes after a whole month here, i only know like 6 people). but uni is amazing my roommate is the best and it’s js a great experience!!

✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫

_quinnhughes

liked by lhughes_06, user01, trevorzegras, and 81,920 others

_quinnhughes i��ll keep this one, thanks. 😃

tagged: @/y/n.y/l/n

view comments

colecaufield found in the wild 🐗🕵️

_quinnhughes ❌

user81 Y/N Y/L/N DATING A HOCKEY PLAYER??!! MY WORLDS ARE COLLIDING 🥲🥲

jackhughes 👁️🌊🫵

user17 jack what is this??! 😭😭

user38 he’s weird

user82 he js built diff

trevorzegras quinnifer got (no) game??!

_quinnhughes at least i have a girl where’s yours *looks around* oh i forgot 🥲

trevorzegras you’re my girl @/_quinnhughes don’t worry 😘

jackhughes AYE!!

_quinnhughes @/jackhughes @/y/n.y/l/n idk what he’s talking abt 😥

y/n.y/l/n trev wishes 😔😔

user93 NOOOO😭!!!!

user72 sad day for us quinn girlies 😔

user57 trevor and quinn are umm…

y/n.y/l/n weird and not okay i know and also very much in love with each other???

user57 yes

y/n.y/l/n have you fixed the bed yet??

_quinnhughes no..

lhughes_06 the beds broken?? oh 😐

y/n.y/l/n he jumped on it to hard and made a leg break

jackhughes YO WHAT

_quinnhughes @/jackhughes in my defense she was chasing me

y/n.y/l/n @/_quinnhughes you caused that to happen when YOU THREW A PILLOW AT ME

_quinnhughes @/y/n.y/l/n IM SORRY TAKE ME BACK

y/n.y/l/n @/_quinnhughes YOURE NEXT TO ME STUPID

trevorzegras ☕️☕️

user92 SHES SO PRETTY OMGGG 💕💕

user29 new wag alert!!!

user69 girlie so fine 😻😻

bradytkachuk emma said to stop forcing her to say you guys are together

ehtkachuk yea bc she’s MY wife not YOUR gf

y/n.y/l/n @/_quinnhughes ^^

_quinnhughes @/bradytkachuk @/ehtkachuk @/y/n.y/l/n why are you all after me 😔😔

colemcward mama y papa? mama. papa.

y/n.y/l/n my son is all alone 😭😭

_quinnhughes he’ll live

colemcward @/_quinnhughes no i won’t

lhughes_06 @/y/n.y/l/n why is he your son and not me???

y/n.y/l/n @/lhughes_06 bc you’re the annoying little brother i wished i had growing up

elblue6 my beautiful daughter 💕💕 and her interesting bf

_quinnhughes i’m your biological son??!

y/n.y/l/n quinny shh 🤫 ALSO MAMA EL 😘😘♥️

user48 parents so cute 🥰🥰

✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫

y/n and quinn had been together in michigan for a week now and his brothers were yet to meet her. she had met his parents a couple months before and they’ve loved her ever since. ellen treated her as if she were her own daughter. they would talk about quinn and his behavior and quinn would be in the back, getting offended. jim was like her second father. he was protective of her and was his little girl even if they weren’t blood related.

the couple were on the couch, all cozy and cuddling when they heard a car pull up outside. quinn looked down at y/n who had her eyes closed, trying to go asleep after being out that day. “babe,” quinn heard a mumble come from the girl, “they’re here.” she grumbled in response.

quinn had told her last night that they would arrive at the lake house tomorrow evening. she was half asleep when he told her so all he got from her was an “okay,” before he began to hear soft snores come from her mouth.

“quinny, let me sleep please,” y/n whispered, “i’ll meet them later.”

quinn just smiled and leaned down to kiss her temple. he rested his head on top of hers and closed his eyes, hoping to sleep as well.

unfortunately, in this household, a good nights sleep was never a thing. that was proven as the front door suddenly burst open which quinn jumped slightly at the action and caused y/n to stir in her sleep, letting out a small whine.

“honey, we’re home!” an, oh, so familiar voice announced.

quinn turned his head to the side and peaked over the couch. as soon as he saw his brothers, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes at their antics and go back to trying to go to sleep.

he heard chattering and the padding of footsteps get closer, indicating they were coming his way. he began to think of a way of how he would get up without waking up y/n. there was no way.

quinn reopened his eyes and saw two figures standing in front of him. “what the fuck?” he questioned and his brothers laughed at his face.

“i see you’ve been having fun.” luke said and his eyes traveled down to y/n’s sleeping figure and he raised an eyebrow at quinn. “like i knew you had a girlfriend but she’s way out of your league.”

quinn let out a fake chuckle. “get the hell out and let us sleep.” he commented and wrapped his arms around y/n, his arm covering her face from jack and luke.

“but we just got here.” jack pointed out and luke murmured in agreement.

“then go up to your rooms.”

“but we want to meet your girlfriend.” luke stated with a fake pout.

quinn glared at the pair. “she’s sleeping so leave,” he stated and closed his eyes, protecting y/n from their view.

“we’re coming back when you’re both wide awake.” jack pointed a finger at quinn before he and quinn went to the front to get their bags and head upstairs.

quinn shook his head and went back to sleep, awaiting the moment of when y/n wakes up.

the couple had surprisingly slept for an hour and a half. it surprised quinn since he knew his brothers and the amount of noise they made whenever one of them were sleeping.

y/n had begun to wake as she had begun to squirm in quinn’s hold. he let out a groan and held her closer to his body, her squirming subsiding. “q, let go.” she mumbled into his chest. he held her tight. “quinn.”

“go to sleep, princess.” quinn whispered, his eyes still closed.

y/n started to squirm once again. “no, i have to meet your brothers as i said before.” she really wanted to meet luke and jack but with quinn’s hold keeping her restrained, it was impossible.

“they can wait.”

“no we can’t.”

quinn snapped his head towards the voice and y/n lifted her head and looked towards the boy. “why are you everywhere luke?”

luke shrugged, “i don’t know,” he sat at the end of the couch, “i just am.”

quinn rolled his eyes and looked down at y/n. “well you’ve met luke,” he told her.

“and the other?”

“i have a name.” jack.

y/n turned towards the boy, “yeah i know. sorry jack.”

jack shrugged and sat next to luke who gave jack a look. “what?” luke stared at him for a second before using all his force to push jack off. he fell with a thud and quinn, luke, and y/n laughed. “asshole.”

“man whore.”

jack looked up at luke. he got up within a second before he pounced onto luke. the two began to fight, jokingly, of course. jack had an arm wrapped around luke who let out a scream. “get off of me.” luke managed to get out despite jack’s arm suffocating him. luke continuously slapped jack’s arm in an effort for his older brother to let go.

“no.” the two continued to fight and quinn and y/n just stayed there laughing at the two.

“well you’ve met thing 1 and thing 2.” quinn said as he looked down at y/n. “i don’t know how they haven’t killed each other in jersey yet.”

y/n looked up at him. “you have a wonderful family.”

“aren’t we just lovely?” luke asked as he wriggled under jack’s hold. “also one more question,” y/n and quinn looked at him, “did quinn force you to get with him?”

jack’s head perked up at this. “oh yeah, did he?” he let go of luke as he turned towards his older brother and his girlfriend.

y/n only chuckled and quinn gave them a death stare. “no, i didn’t. she simply fell in love with me.”

jack and luke looked at each other. suddenly, the two bursted out laughing. both quinn and y/n were confused. they had a look on there face as the younger pair continued laughing. “what?”

“oh, we’re sorry but how is it that a girl like her, take this in a good way, would fall in love with a guy like you?” jack said and luke was still too busy laughing.

quinn looked at them, offended, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“she’s beautiful! and you’re just..you.” luke exclaimed. “like let’s be real here.”

y/n turned to them, “i didn’t fall in love with him because of his looks, i fell in love with him because of his personality,” she looked towards quinn before looking back at the younger brothers, “although sometimes he’s a little interesting.”

“what do you mean interesting?”

“a wet cat.”

✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫

i fucking hate this so much like actually wtff 😭😭 anyways here’s my monthly post and hopefully some of you enjoy it. uni is my new home and umm it’s great!! now my roommate and my friends are making go to a frat tmrw so uhh hopefully it goes well (ik it won’t) wish me luck 🤞

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #nhl imagine #vancover canucks #nhl #nhl hockey #hockey #jack hughes #luke hughes #isa’s works 🦭

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cheriladycl01 · 1 year ago

Text

Ghost - Oscar Piastri x UnknownDriver! Reader Part 3

Plot: Reader is the first female F1 driver of the century, however no-one knows that as you are a ghost on the grid. You started in 2022, coming in P12 in the championship. You get moved to Red Bull Racing in 2023 with the off year for Sergio Perez.

Standing up on the podium, not being able to do anything as you watched Oscar run off was torture. You had to stay there while your national anthem played that should have been amazing considering it was you, Lewis and Lando all up there together.

And of course, there were no breaks for you afterwards. Everyone wanted you, from SkySports, to F1, to Netflix. Everyone was throwing questions at you and asking how different your achievements feel now knowing that your the first woman to have completed many of them.

You were fine answering them, because like they said. All of your previous achievements were now bigger than they were as Ghost. People could tell that you weren't fully with them, you were a little spacey and sometimes struggled with hearing and answering the questions.

Most of them put it down to the post race fuzz of the win and revealing who you were, but upon getting to the Sky Sports Team who consisted of Jenson Button, Nico Rosberg, Natalie Pinkham and Danica Patrick questions turned sour.

"So Y/N aside from racing we caught light of Oscar Piastri's quick depart after the reveal, any insight on this?" Danica asks, making you look down.

"I don't think these questions are necessary" Jenson says just as the Red Bull PR manager was about to ask for racing related questions only.

"Yes please stick to racing questions only" the Red Bull PR backs up, nodding before taking a step back. You look back up, straight to Nico who had a soft look on his face.

"I'm just interested, you raced for Alpine last year when he was a reserve driver... for Alpine and you've been promoted to Red Bull this year while Piastri's made the move to Mclaren. Can't help but wonder if its underlying sexism that's made him this mad, you all cant deny he was blunt and rude in his interview with us earlier" Danica pushes and you head snaps up. You feel a hand on your shoulder as if to stop you from what your about to say but you go ahead anyway.

"I've hurt a dear friend. So how dare you stand there and try to victimize me, when he is the one that I've hurt. He knew me as Ghost's assistant and media manager... we were close and I've not been truthful to him for obvious reasons. So don't stand there and try to make him out to be a misogynistic twat when he isn't. I don't know what you experienced in NASCAR Danica but in F1 all I've experienced today is love and support. Just because your sport sucks doesn't mean mine does" you snap, and recoil shocked that you'd just said all of that. She looks at you also in shock, Jenson and Nico were trying to stop their laughter.

"Well, some strong opinions there from Y/N Y/L/N" Jenson says as he watches you turn away and walk off. You were done with interviews for the day. You just wanted to find Oscar and talk to him now.

"Lando! Lando" you shout as you see the curly haired boy ahead of you walking into the Mclaren motorhome.

"Hey, Y/N or should i say Ghost" he smiles before pulling you into a hug.

"I was not expecting that bombshell today, and I will admit I'm sorry for assuming you were some ugly guy... your very obviously not" he laughs.

"Where's Oscar" you ask, you didn't want to seem rude but of course he was your priority right now.

"Y/N, I don't think its a good idea to see him right now. I think maybe just wait for him to come to you. He's upset and" he starts but you look him dead in the eye.

"He upset me too, he just ran off... at my first race win" you say as selfish as it was... but he also ruined that experience for you.

"I know, but you did like lie to him for just under 2 years" Lando says softly not wanting to rattle your already unstable cage of self hatred.

"And what was i supposed to do Lando, tell him a secret that Red Bull had me sign an NDA over and break my contract and risk loosing my seat?" you ask, hoping he would start to understand.

"Look Y/N you really should go..." Lando pushes looking around the area you were currently in. He put a hand on your lower back as to guide you back out, but you planted yourself still.

"No, I'm not leaving till i talk to him" you grunt.

"Y/N I'm telling you this as your friend and your co-worker. You need to go" he says, you'd actually never seen his eyes this serious before and it had your head cocking to the side in confusion.

As your about to ask him why the hell he's being so twitchy, two people stumble out of the next room a little disheveled and both laughing. You eyes lock on them.

"O-Oscar?" you ask in shock, the girl looks up at him confused and his face turns red but also a sour expression comes onto his face.

Before any of them can say anything your turning away from them, everything feels slow motion, all the voices around you blur and your heartbeat comes erratic.

You couldn't understand why it hurt so much, the thought of him not even for a moment being happy for you up on a podium that he come here to be with some other girl ... or was it because in the time you'd spent with him you'd fallen for the racer.

You round the corner, stumbling behind the Mclaren motorhome so that you could just breath. You crouch down, your head leaning back against the side.

"Fucks sake" you say to yourself, once you'd calmed yourself from the initial shock you fully sat down on the metal edging outside the Mclaren motorhome.

"Y/N?" you hear a voice ask, your head peaks up and you spot Alex and Logan.

"Oh, hey guys. Great Race today!" you smile.

"Why are you just sat outside the Mclaren motorhome?" Logan asks raising an eyebrow at you.

"Oh, erm no reason. I just got lost on my way back to Red Bull" you smile standing up and walking to the long strip and turning left.

"Your still clearly lost, Red Bull's that way" Alex says pointing to the right hand side, that you weren't facing.

"Right, yeah i knew that" you smile, turning round and scuttering off the other way.

To say that the UK was the start of something spectacular was an understatement. You didn't go out and celebrate that night, you stayed in with your family.

The next race was Hungary where you proceeded to take the win away from Max in the last 3 laps, being on the fresher tires. They asked you to let Max take the win but you begged for them to let you fight it out. You shared the podium with Max and Lando, in Spa you came second, sharing the podium with Max and Charles and in The Netherlands you came 4th.

Throughout all of this Oscar hadn't reached out to you. You'd kept in contact with Lando, asking how he was and what had been going on. However Monza changed things.

An article came out about an interview Oscar had done about you and how you hadn't spoken to him since. He hadn't spoken very nicely about you when all you'd done was stick up for him. You guys got into a massive argument outside the garages that of course people caught on camera.

You had a really bad qualifying, the car just didn't have pace and your mind wasn't in the right place. So you were starting P14 on the grid, after a cry to Christian that you were so overwhelmed and him assuring you that it was today that really mattered.

You had turned off everything when you got in the car on the Sunday. No thoughts in your head just the racing. On the start you managed to get yourself to P12 overtaking Liam and Nico right of the bat.

"Excellent start Y/N lets keep pushing"

Martin Bundle - I have to say that Y/N is incredible with these races where she starts down in the back of the grid, and she gets those amazing starts where she slips in the middle of the two drivers ahead and is able to confidently get herself up too places

"Okay, and Alonso are ahead, you have DRS" your engineer tells you, and you are able to overtake Yuki who doesn't go as aggressively into the chicane as you do. You have a little spin but recover enough to pull up aside Alonso on the straight, going for the overtake.

"Amazing Y/N, that's P10 right now. Keep pushing"

Eventually you were left fighting Carlos, Max clipped a tire and was now down in 4th fighting with Charles.

"Y/N this has been a fantastic race, from P14 up to P2, Carlos is 1.8 second ahead. Lets get him and bring home a double podium. Max is fighting for P3 right now. 5 laps to go" he advises.

"Tell him to speed up, I'll give him DRS we can overtake Sainz together so its a 1.2" you advise looking seeing the Ferrari behind you. You slow down on the hairpin, breaking early, which Charles didn't expect where he was concentrating on defending from Max. You speed up, watching as he spins out a little leaving room for Max on the inside.

"Okay, Sainz has sped up there's now a 2.6 second gap"

"Copy that" you say, Max was using your slip stream, but didn't go for the overtake, you easily defended from Charles together while gaining on the other Ferrari.

"Okay last two laps, Sainz, 0.3 second gap"

"Yeah i can fucking tell I'm riding his rear end" you say, the minute you get onto the straight you and Max both go either side of Sainz, sandwiching him in as your about to go into turn 11. He breaks early falling back leaving you to take the optimal racing line and get ahead of Max.

"Is Max fighting this last lap?" you ask.

"He's been told is free to fight. Mode push and bring us another win" your race engineer advises, you breeze through the final lap, it was a close call but you came first.

"Y/N Y/L/N winner of the 2023 Italian Grand Prix" your race engineer says a big grin coming onto your face as you flip up the visor holding your fist up as you see all the Red Bull crew cheering for you on the fencing.

"Where did Oscar place?" you ask, you hadnt thought about him up until now. Even as you passed the orange 81 car, it was just another car then.

"Not a good race for Piastri, P12 behind Lawson"

"Okay. Thank you for the great drive today. Thank you Christian" you say before preparing yourself for the podium.

Would Oscar be there?

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula one #formula 1 #formula one fanfiction #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri f1 #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri one shot #oscar piastri series #oscar piastri angst

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justagalwhowrites · 15 days ago

Text

The Savage and the Sanctuary - Ch. 7: Precautions

You and Joel deal with a growing threat as you prepare to take on a new role. A continuation of The Savage and the Sanctuary, a no outbreak TLOU story, from the prologue through chapter 6 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

CW: Mild violence. No use of Y/N. Whole fic will be explicit so minors DNI, 18+ only.

Length: 7.7k

Fic Masterlist | Masterlist | AO3 | Prologue | Previous Chapter

Three Weeks Later

“You remember your talking points, right?” Quinn asked, watching Ellie closely. “And all the rules?”

“No,” Ellie said, rolling her eyes. “I’ve completely forgotten the four things you’ve told me because I’m fucking dumb.”

“Hey,” you said, giving her a look. “C’mon, kid.”

“I know, I know,” she sighed. “Language. Yes, I know I can’t swear. I have to talk about how great Sissy is…”

“You don’t have to,” you said, giving Quinn a look. “You should be honest.”

“Then I’ll tell them all about how you make me do the stupidest homework and don’t let me stay up late and also don’t let me beat up people at school even when they deserve it,” Ellie said, smug.

“No,” Quinn said quickly. “You can’t…”

You cut her off before she got too far.

“It’ll be fine,” you said. “Ellie, say whatever you think is best. However this interview goes, it’ll all blow over in a few weeks, anyway.”

“Just try not to swear quite so much, kiddo,” Joel said, his arms crossed as he hovered between you and the front door, waiting for the reporters to arrive. “You and I both know you know better than that.”

“But I like to fucking swear,” she smirked and Joel, you could tell, was trying not to smirk back. “But if Big Miller says so…”

“Jesus,” Joel rolled his eyes.

The doorbell rang and Quinn ground her teeth but went with Joel to answer the door all the same.

This interview had been a last ditch effort on Quinn’s part. The media had latched on to the concept of Ellie’s existence and hadn’t eased up since the news broke. Photographers still showed up outside her school half the week, paparazzi camped outside the gym where you’d been training for Savage Starlight and would yell questions with Ellie’s name in them at you, there were several viral posts theorizing that you and Anna had secretly been lesbians and Ellie was your daughter together.

It didn’t take long for you to reach your breaking point. Quinn had the idea to offer up an interview to the biggest publications, one in your home where you posed for pictures and answered questions about Ellie, the adoption, Anna, the works. In exchange, they agreed to stop buying photos of you and Ellie as you went about your private lives in Austin.

You hoped it worked. You didn’t want to have to uproot Ellie yet again. The whole reason you’d come to Austin to begin with was that Elise had retired here and you didn’t want to keep Ellie from the only blood relation she had left or ask Elise to move to whatever new place you decided to settle, especially if you’d just have to do this same song and dance again in six months to a year when the press found out where you were again.

You were, at least, out of your brace now. It had been a close call on the interview date, Frank planning a few outfits for you - some designed to downplay the brace, others without worrying about it - just to be safe. But the fracture had healed well and quickly, not requiring a full cast or any extended time in the brace. You’d gotten permission to take it off at your follow up appointment a few days earlier and had been relishing your new-found freedom ever since. Your training for Savage Starlight was slated to pick up more now that you were healed but you were enjoying the small reprieve where you weren’t dealing with the brace and weren’t sore and exhausted every night.

Once things calmed down with the paparazzi, though, you could handle it. You hoped, anyway. In part because, outside of all that, things had been going smoothly - even with your surly bodyguard.

It was still a total mystery to you what he’d meant by keeping things “professional,” but things had definitely been that. Cool and distant, no more sitting next to each other by the pool late at night or sharing a drink now and then - things which seemed perfectly professional in your opinion but apparently weren’t for him. But, while he wasn’t wearing the watch you’d given him, he never snapped at you like he did the day you’d presented it to him, either.

You took what you could get with him. It was a little disorienting, having someone treat you with such indifference - especially when he’d shown some basic, human care in the past. Not that you expected him to treat you the way everyone else did. You weren’t stupid, you knew that almost every person you interacted with every day treated you the way they did because you were famous and because you had a carefully crafted public persona that was only loosely tied to who you really were. They were either fans of someone who didn’t really exist but had your body and face and name or they wanted some proximity to your fame and all that came with it. Of course someone like Joel - who had to be around you all the time, whose job required him to move quickly regardless of your feelings - would treat you differently. But it still stung all the same. Anything short of the harshness he’d treated you with that day in your driveway felt like mercy and you were almost ashamed at how desperately you clung to that.

“Hey,” you said to Ellie, reaching out and taking her hand, giving it a small squeeze. Her eyes met yours. “I’m sorry about this. And you should know that you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. We can shut it down right now if you want.”

She smiled a little tightly at you, giving your hand a small squeeze back.

“I know,” she said. “But… this will make it all easier, right? They’ll leave us both alone and you won’t be as stressed?”

“No,” you shook your head. “I don’t want you to do this because you’re worried about my stress level or…”

“I know,” she cut you off, smirking a little. “But I’m also doing it for me. Fuck switching schools again, man.”

You laughed a little and rested your head against hers, taking a deep breath as you heard the distinctive sound of Quinn’s reporter wrangling voice from your entry way.

“Well, now you’ll get an idea of what I do every day,” you said, lacing your fingers with hers. “See just how boring it is so you can tell all your friends at school that they don’t actually want to be movie stars when they grow up.”

Ellie snorted.

“Please,” she said. “I know you’re really off doing cool shit while wearing fancy clothes all the time. Definitely one big party, no work at all.”

You laughed before getting up to go greet the reporter, slipping into the version of yourself that you shared with the press as you did.

The interview went surprisingly well. Quinn had handpicked the reporter so that wasn’t a surprise, a well known freelancer who didn’t ask anything too invasive. Ellie held her own, curbing her swearing (mostly, a few, more minor, curse words snuck in) and being her witty and charming self. The photographer posed the two of you together on your couch, by the pool with your guitars, by the kitchen island pretending to cook - even though you basically never did that yourself, anyway.

Joel hovered the entire time. You could feel his eyes on you, the intensity of his gaze sharp. He stayed at the back of the reporter and photographer the whole time they were in your house. His arms stayed crossed over his chest, his jaw set firm, eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

“Hey,” you said quietly, your hand going to rest gently on Joel’s back, when the photographer was focused on Ellie and the reporter was reviewing his notes. “You OK?”

“Fine,” he grunted, glancing over at you. “Just tryin’ to do my job.”

“It’s just a reporter,” you said, raising your brows and trying not to smile. “I don’t think they’re going to bite.”

He just made a disgruntled sound and kept his eye on the visitors, his whole body still tense.

He didn’t ease up until the reporter and photographer were gone and outside the gates of your property.

“That was kinda fun!” Ellie said. “A lot of bullshit but not that awful.”

You smiled a little.

“Good,” you said. “I’m glad it wasn’t the worst thing in the world.”

“Told you you don’t actually work,” she teased. You snorted and she turned her attention to Joel. “Hey Big Miller, wanna kill some zombies? I was playing a level the other night and getting my ass kicked, I could use another gun.”

You glanced toward Joel, still worried that, at some point, he would decide he wanted to keep a professional distance from Ellie, too. She’d grown attached to your bodyguard over the last few months, not that she would ever admit it. She sought him out often to play video games or watch a movie. You could usually hear when she got home from school when he picked her up because she was still laughing at something he said when she walked in the door.

It still surprised you, how the two of them had connected. You hadn’t expected a - presumably - single, childless man to have bonded with your brash teenaged niece so thoroughly. Had it been anyone else, it would have sent alarm bells ringing. You had plenty of reason to not trust the motivations of men, especially around teenaged girls, but there was something distinctly safe about Joel and his connection with Ellie. And she needed as many people to care for her as she could get. You didn’t want her to lose that because of some misplaced notion of propriety.

“Been a minute since we went and messed up some undead,” he said, noticeably less tense now that the only people in the house were you, him, Ellie and Quinn. “Guess we should go show ‘em who’s boss.”

“Fuck yeah!” Ellie said, punching the air. You didn’t scold her for her language choice, instead just smiling a little at the two of them as he settled into the couch and picked up the controller - the device looking oddly small in his large hands - before going to find Quinn in your office.

“Ellie’s got some natural skill,” Quinn said, glancing up from the Emmy that functioned as a paperweight on your desk. “She’s smart, charismatic. Got a hell of a mouth on her.”

“Tell me about it,” you snorted. “Aren’t you glad you usually only have to rein me in?”

“Wrangling the two of you all the time would be a bit much,” she said. “I get the feeling you just feed off each other…”

“Yeah,” you laughed. “It used to be worse, back when I wasn’t actually responsible for her and we could just goof off and hang out. Drove her mom insane. I’m half surprised she wanted me to take her when…”

You trailed off, a knot tugging at the back of your throat.

“We won’t get any kind of prior article review,” Quinn said, sensing that you were ready to change the subject. “But I’m sure it’ll be positive. You gave them great shit to work with.”

“Thanks,” you smiled, tightly.

“So,” she said. “Ready for the fight choreo?”

“Think so,” you nodded. “It’ll be weird, I think, but good. I hope good, anyway.”

She hummed in agreement, nodding a little.

“What?” You asked. “I feel like there’s something you’re not saying.”

“Well, we have some timing updates and some new asks,” she said.

“OK…”

“They want you in LA a bit earlier than originally planned,” she said. “They’ve got the costume ready and they want to get you properly in it for a final screen test and fitting as well as for a few shots they can polish into a teaser trailer of sorts for the announcement at the con.”

“Seriously?” You groaned. “When?”

“Friday.”

“Friday?” You gaped. “Thursday is Thanksgiving!”

“I know,” she said. “But they’re pretty set on this and it’s already a hell of a truncated timeline given your injury.”

“Jesus,” you pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. “Fine.”

“They also want you to attend the premiere of Scarlet Sentinel after the announcement,” she continued.

“When the hell is that?” You asked.

“The 11th,” she said. “Just a few more days, it’s not too bad.”

“A few more days during the first Christmas after Ellie’s mom died,” you snapped.

“I know,” she said.

“And they know what happened at the last fucking premiere, right?” You asked. “Because…”

“They know,” she said. “But you and I both know with the timing of the convention and the announcement, your name is going to come up a lot on that red carpet. They figure, better to have you there to talk about it yourself than leave it to someone else.”

“Fine,” you sighed. “But I’m coming back on the 12th. This damn movie had better be worth it.”

“Just think of all the little girls who will have a badass superhero to look up to because of you,” she smiled a little. “And remember that you’re the one who wanted me to chase this role for you.”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I know. I’m guessing I’ll have my grumpy shadow for this whole adventure?”

“After what happened at the last premiere?” Quinn scoffed. “Absolutely.”

You sighed, frustrated both at the situation and yourself. Part of you was glad that Joel was coming, his presence making you feel more protected than anyone else’s - including the guards who filled in when he was off. But you knew this trip was going to make both of you miserable.

Another few weeks in Los Angeles with Joel. Perfect. Just perfect.

***

Joel ground his teeth, his head on a swivel.

Was there ever going to come a time that he wasn’t tense and frustrated when it came to you?

He doubted it.

There was something inherently frustrating about you. He couldn’t put his finger on exactly what it was but it was absolutely there.

Maybe it was that you were insufferably, disturbingly stubborn. Maybe it was that the whole fucking world seemed drawn to you. Maybe it was your ceaselessly annoying habit of underestimating any potential threat when it came to yourself.

Maybe it was the fact that, in spite of his request for professionalism and his newfound practice of trying to shove some distance between the two of you, he was just as drawn to you now as ever. Even though you were a bad idea, even though you terrified him, he had to fight to keep himself away from you.

He had to force himself to stay in his room when sitting at your house instead of seeking you out. He had to stop himself from thinking about you in ways he fucking knew he shouldn’t, stop himself from searching your name on Google when he was aching and desperate and couldn’t think of anything else. On the rare occasions he wasn’t near you - when he was taking Ellie to school or on his mandatory days off in between stints of protecting you - he’d see something that would remind him of you and have the strange urge to text you about it. As though he’d ever texted you about anything besides business, as though you were friends. As though he was anything at all to you.

Now, he was stuck sitting outside where you were doing some kind of fucking training for that damn movie. Fuck if he knew what it was, all he knew was that he’d tried to talk you and the trainer - some musclebound jackass named Alan who looked like he knew more about making punching look good than making it effective - into moving the training to your house. Alan had vetoed that.

“No,” he’d said, shaking his head as he took a look around the space that Joel had worked with you in for weeks. “No, this is way too small for what we need.”

“The hell you mean it’s too small,” Joel snapped. “What are you doin’, throwing a goddamn party?”

The guy looked at Joel for a moment.

“You realize that this is a favor, right?” He said. “That I’m the most in demand fight choreographer in the goddamn business and I’m taking time away from other work to come here so I can train her because it’s supposedly safer here than LA? I’m not about to slim shit down any further than I already have, I’ve booked us time at a private gym in the city, she’ll be perfectly safe there since you’re apparently incapable of doing your damn job in California.”

Joel fought the urge to swing on the fucker.

“She gets hurt because you need a goddamn ballroom to teach her how to throw a more cinematic punch…”

“That’ll be on you, won’t it?” He said.

Joel couldn’t argue with him. He was right, the weight of that settling in the pit of his stomach. Your safety was on his head.

That was a double edged sword. He didn’t trust anyone else to keep you safe. He wasn’t comfortable with something like your life sitting squarely on his shoulders. It wasn’t something that had ever bothered him with other clients but you were different. In so many things you were different.

He’d been standing in this stupid fucking waiting room of this stupid fucking private gym for what felt like a small eternity. Nothing had happened, of course. Nothing had happened the two days before, either. That didn’t seem to make a damn difference, though. He was still tense, still watching for any threat, still frustrated that you were in an uncontrolled space and out of his sight.

His phone vibrated in his pocket and Joel did a quick scan of the area - including the parking lot that he could see through the large windows - before checking it. It only ever vibrated for family, work or clients, it had to be something important.

He was right. It was a text from Tommy.

Been a change on the Siren case. Come to HQ with principal ASAP.

“Shit,” Joel said quietly, going to text him back when he heard your voice - sharp and panicked and muffled by the door.

His body reacted before his mind caught up. He reached the door before he fully realized what he was doing, damn near ripping the thing off its hinges and racing into the room where you were training.

You were flat on your back in the middle of the room, mats on the floor to cushion any falls, and Alan was on top of you. He was straddling you, his knees astride your hips, his hands on your throat, holding you down. Your hands were on his chest, face twisted into a snarl as you shoved at him but the man was bigger than you, stronger than you and Joel had to stop him.

He ran for you with a roar, tucking his shoulder and slamming into the other man, the mats on the ground cushioning their fall as they tumbled.

“What the fuck!” Alan yelled as they came to a stop, Joel shoving the other man into the ground and pinning him.

“Joel!” You yelled but he was focused on the man below him.

“I don’t know what -“ Alan began but Joel cut him off with a punch, sharp against the man’s cheek, sending his head whipping around.

“Joel!” You caught his elbow as he went to punch again and he let you pull him back, Alan groaning on the floor. You tugged Joel to his feet and he panted for breath, looking down at the man who’d been hurting you, the man who he wanted to hurt more. But, for now, he wasn’t going anywhere and Joel turned his attention to you.

Your eyes were wide, your skin slick with sweat and your hand had gone from the crook of his arm to his side when he turned and the weight of your palm was heavy on him. But you were alive. He could breathe.

“Joel…” you panted, almost like a question. His hand went to your cheek, your skin warm. He tilted your head gently, looking over your neck, trying to see any damage.

“He hurt you?” He asked, voice rough. “You OK?”

“What?” You asked, gaping at him.

“Did he hurt you,” he said again.

“No!” You shook yourself free of Joel’s hold on you. “No, he didn’t hurt me! It was fucking fight choreography!”

You ducked around Joel and rushed toward Alan, kneeling beside him as he sat up, holding his face and adjusting his jaw.

“Fuck,” Joel said quietly, wincing as he watched you gingerly examine the other man, the two of you talking low, your back to Joel the whole time.

He should be more embarrassed about this and part of him was but he couldn’t help but just be relieved. You were safe. He didn’t need to see you hurting, didn’t need to live in that shock of fear that had all but swallowed him when he saw you on the ground, your life in the hands of another man. You were alive, you were safe. That was all that mattered, he couldn’t bring himself to give a shit about anything else.

After a minute, Alan looked ready to get up and Joel approached him cautiously, your trainer’s eyes narrowing at him.

“Sorry,” Joel said awkwardly, offering him his hand. “Didn’t know… Never had a job with an actress before…”

“S’alright,” he said before taking Joel’s hand. He pulled him to his feet and he cracked his neck. “I’ve taken worse hits but damn, man, you hit like a fucking hammer.”

Joel caught a glimpse of you rolling your eyes off to the side and he smirked a little.

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged. “Might be your job to make it look good, it’s my job to knock someone on their ass and keep ‘em there.”

“You’re damn good at it,” he said before turning to you. “If it’s all the same to you, I’m going to say we call it early.”

“Of course,” you said quickly. “Again, I’m so sorry, I…”

“It’s fine,” he cut you off, laughing a little. “Does me good to take a hit now and then in my line of work. You should be more than prepped for the shots they want to get later this week but I’ll be in LA if you run into any issues. Now I’m going to head back to my hotel to ice my face and try to think of the best way to explain this to my wife when she picks me up from the airport.”

“We need to go, anyway,” Joel said and you frowned. “Got a text from Tommy, told to bring you to HQ as soon as possible so that’s where we’re headed.”

“Fine,” you sighed, exasperated. “Let’s just run home first so I can change…”

“No,” he cut you off. “We’re going straight there.”

“But I’m disgusting!” You said, arms out at your sides as if to prove your point. “I’m not about to go to a meeting when I’m dripping sweat, that’s just…”

“Don’t matter,” Joel said.

“Is everything OK?” Alan asked, looking between the two of you.

You answered before Joel got a chance to respond.

“It’s fine,” you said, shooting Joel a look that almost dared him to talk. “He just loves to make my life difficult, it’s his favorite hobby, so he’s using this as an excuse.”

Joel quirked his jaw but bit his tongue.

“Come on, Siren,” he said. “Let’s go.”

He watched as you stalked off to get your bag and water bottle, snatching them up with an almost comically angry look on your face as you did. He made you stay behind him while he surveyed the small parking lot before keeping you safely hidden from view from as much of the broader world as he could until he got you to the car.

You reminded him of Ellie as he started the drive to the office, your arms crossed tight over your chest, staring straight ahead with your eyes narrowed. It would be intimidating if you were more… well, intimidating. On you it was almost comical, like watching a lion cub try and snarl at a threat.

“That was mortifying,” you said eventually, your fingers digging into your upper arms so hard that Joel could see the indentations in your flesh. “Completely fucking embarrassing, I can’t believe…”

“Can’t believe I did my job?” Joel asked. “Can’t believe I tried to keep you safe? Shouldn’t come as much of a surprise to you at this point, Siren, been doin’ this for a few months now.”

“Oh fuck off,” you snapped. “That was not you doing your fucking job, that was you losing your temper for who knows what reason and…”

“That was me intervening when you were in danger,” Joel snapped back. “How the hell was I supposed to know that guy was supposed to be fuckin’ choking you out? And you, what? Expect me to just sit there and let it happen? Jesus.”

“This is why I don’t need a fucking bodyguard,” you muttered, shaking your head. “Let alone one who doesn’t know the fucking industry. I fake die sometimes, too, Joel, you going to call 911? Plan my funeral?”

Joel ignored you, clenching his jaw as he called Tommy.

“Yeah,” Tommy said by way of greeting.

“One minute out,” Joel said.

“You’re gettin’ an escort in,” Tommy said.

Joel frowned.

“That serious?”

“We’ll discuss it when you get here,” Tommy said. “Just… being cautious.”

A team of four men met the car when Joel pulled up to the building where Tommy’s business was based. He passed the keys to one and fell into formation around you, immediately at your right as the four men surrounded you, blocking you from any view from passing or the random pedestrian.

“This is such overkill,” you muttered.

“Better over kill than you killed,” Joel glared at you as you rolled your eyes.

But Joel did feel like he could relax a little now that the two of you were in the office. This was a controlled space, you weren’t at risk here. You might be pissed at him but he’d take that. If you were safe, alive? Pissed he could handle.

Tommy seemed prepared for it, at least, not shaken by your sour attitude.

“Joel,” Tommy nodded to him before looking to you. “Ma’am.”

“You’ll have to excuse the fact that I smell like a gym sock,” you said, clearly pissed but trying to control yourself. “Someone didn’t let me shower or change before coming here.”

“I’m afraid that’s my fault,” Tommy said. “I got Quinn on the line, I’m gonna loop her into this conversation, too…”

He switched on the speaker phone.

“We’re all here now,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “We OK to get started?”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “Lay things out.”

You frowned and glanced at Joel, as if he’d have any better idea about what this was going to be about than you did. He just frowned, too.

“This was sent to your address here in Austin,” Tommy said, dropping a printed image of a letter on the other side of his desk, closer to you and Joel. You stepped forward and picked it up, Joel looking over your shoulder at it. “Police have the original.”

It was a note, like the ones before.

I love your home. I can’t wait to share it with you. But why do you have other men spending the night? They won’t love you like I love you. Don’t you know that? Don’t you see?

If I can’t have you, no one will.

Joel’s hand trembled as he took the copy from you, tracing the words over and over.

If I can’t have you, no one will.

For a moment - just a moment - Joel had that vision of you again. The one that had come to his dreams more often than he cared to admit, the one where he couldn’t save you.

There was someone out there who wanted you, wanted you so badly they were willing to kill to have you and what if he couldn’t stop them? What if they got to you when he was off for a few days, what if something happened when you were just out of reach? What if all he could do was stand there and watch you die?

“Well someone’s getting ballsy, isn’t he?” You said wryly.

“You don’t sound like you’re taking this seriously,” Quinn said, the sharpness in her tone apparent even through the crackle of the speaker phone.

“Probably because I’m not,” you shrugged, crossing your arms over your torso, your chin raised defiantly. “He’s just some weirdo. He knew where I lived in LA, too, and was too cowardly to show his fucking face, what difference does it make if he’s got my Austin address?”

“We’re going to tighten up security,” Tommy said, looking around you to Joel.

“Tighten up?” You gaped at him before Joel had a chance to respond. “Tighten up how! Someone already follows me everywhere I go, is he supposed to, what, chase me into the bathroom when I take a piss now, too? This is insane! Quinn, tell them they’re insane!”

“It’s not insane,” Quinn said. “He’s escalating, there are valid concerns for your safety and we’re going to take the appropriate precautions. Maybe you should hear what those precautions are before you fly off the handle about it.”

“Jesus,” you rolled your eyes before you sighed. “Fine. Alright, what else am I going to have to fucking give up.”

Joel’s jaw twitched but he remained silent, watching you closely as his brother started reviewing the changes.

“Biggest one will be you’re never on the exterior of your home alone,” Tommy said.

“I’m already never alone outside my house!” You gaped at him.

“You’re never alone when you leave your property,” Tommy corrected. “But you’ve been able to go outside, swim, run, take a walk on your own as long as you stayed on your property. That will no longer be the case.”

“Seriously?” You looked between Tommy and Joel, aghast. “I can’t step outside my own front door unsupervised? What am I, a toddler?”

“We will also be stepping up who is on hand at your home,” Tommy said, ignoring your protests. “We’ll be doing more frequent perimeter checks and generally have a more active presence there. But that will be less obtrusive, you will still have just one body man when you leave the property for most outings.”

“What about when I’m in LA?” You asked.

“You ain’t serious,” Joel said before Tommy had a chance to answer. “You’re not still goin’ to fucking California, not after that letter.”

“Yes, I am,” you said. “I have to do some early shots in two days, the con is a week after that, followed by…”

“And you can’t do any of it if you’re fuckin’ dead!” Joel snapped. “So you’re staying here, not goin’ to where that asshole is!”

“No, she’s not,” Quinn said, a sense of finality in her voice. “She’s going to LA…”

“You really willing to put her fucking life on the line for a goddamn movie?” Joel snapped, louder than he’d meant to but he couldn’t seem to make himself stop. “You’re gonna let her get hurt, get killed so you assholes can make a few bucks?”

“She won’t be at risk if…”

“Not at risk?” Joel cut Quinn off. “If she ain’t at risk then why am I here!”

“She is actually in the fucking room if you assholes would fucking listen to her!” You yelled, Joel turning to face you, shocked. He didn’t think he’d ever heard you yell like that before. “I’m going to LA.”

Joel went to protest but you wouldn’t let him.

“No!” You snapped, rounding on him. “I’m going to LA! I’m going to LA, I’m going to do my fucking job and I’m going to go to the con and the goddamn movie premiere and then I’m going to come home and spend Christmas with my niece and you’re going to stay out of my fucking way!”

“Well that’s where you’re wrong,” Quinn said.

“What?” You asked, still sounding pissed but not yelling now.

“He won’t be out of your way,” Quinn said wryly. “Because he’s coming with you to everything.”

“Well obviously,” you said, rolling your eyes. “He’s been doing that.”

“I mean,” Quinn continued. “He’s going to come with you to the premiere. As your date.”

You and Joel both stood silently for a moment, dumbstruck.

“What,” Joel said eventually.

“You’re going to the premiere as her date,” Tommy said this time, looking between the two of you. “They decided they need you there,” he said, nodding to you. “And last one was enough of an opening that you got hurt but having you walk the red carpet with a bodyguard isn’t really an option. So, we keep Joel close - as your date - and he keeps you safe.”

“No,” Joel shook his head. “No, the answer is she don’t go to the damn premiere, not sending me along with her like I’m some kind of goddamn undercover agent or some shit, this ain’t…”

“Can’t I just go with Chris or Justice or something?” You asked and Joel tried to ignore how his stomach turned at the thought of you with either of those fucking guys on your arm. “We just tell them what’s going on and…”

“Someone who isn’t trained ain’t gonna cut it,” Tommy shook his head. “It has to be Joel.”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Fine,” you said. “If that’s what it takes? Fine.”

“This is a bad fuckin’ idea,” Joel muttered. “I don’t…”

“Oh, come on Big Miller,” you said, your tone shifting to something more familiar, that dry, sarcastic edge to it he’d come to know well. “Didn’t you know? I’m the most beautiful woman in the world. There are men who would kill to be in your shoes.”

“Yeah,” Joel muttered. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

He didn’t press the subject when the two of you got back to your house that night, the new cadence of protection already kicking in, more guards obvious at the perimeter of your property. You didn’t wait for Joel to open the car door for you - something you’d become more willing to do as time had passed. Instead you just stormed off toward the house, Joel following quickly behind you. Before he had the chance to lecture you about it, you looked back over your shoulder to him.

“I’m going in the pool,” you snapped. “Since you apparently have to fucking babysit me anytime I step foot out my goddamn door now.”

He expected you to go get changed into a swimsuit but you didn’t. Instead you just stalked straight through the entry way, the living room, out the back of the house, stepping out of your shoes as went, walking straight to the water’s edge without pausing and jumping in fully clothed.

Joel stood and watched, worried for a moment when you didn’t surface immediately. But then you screamed under the water, the sound muffled and distorted and sounding almost desperate. You went quiet and surfaced, immediately going to a ladder and pulling yourself up, more stalking toward the house than walking, eyes straight ahead like Joel wasn’t even there, leaving a trail of water on the floor in your wake as you went to your bedroom and closed the door.

Joel tried to ignore the tug of concern in his chest. He picked up Ellie from school - the kid so excited about having a few days off for Thanksgiving and seeing her grandmother - and played a video game with her. You didn’t come out of your room. He kept hoping to hear some sign of you when he went to his own room, even as he was desperate for some distance, and he thought he heard you come out at one point. Just your quiet steps in bare feet and the cadence of talking just out of reach of where really hear it.

He tried to let that soothe him. You clearly didn’t want anything to do with him - not that he blamed you, he had literally asked for this - but he couldn’t help but worry as he stared at his ceiling. You were upset but you’d left your room, talked to Ellie, hopefully eaten something. That was… it was fine. Good, even. He didn’t need to be a part of it or see it for himself and he’d done everything he could to make sure that here, within these walls, you were safe.

That thought didn’t help him actually, really rest, though. He started to drift off and the image of you, pinned down with a man’s hands around your throat took over. But this time, he was always too far away to fix it. He’d run and run and run but it was like he was moving through Jell-o, not able to reach you but not able to look away.

He jerked awake, his heart racing in his chest, and he sighed, wiping a layer of sweat away from his face.

It was late now, quiet in the house. He debated it, for a moment, but not for long, getting up and going to the kitchen for a drink. But when he passed the hall with your room and office, he saw a soft glow around your office door. He frowned at that, going to the kitchen and grabbing two beers before going to that glowing door. He hesitated for a moment. He shouldn’t be doing this. He knew better. He was the one who asked for a professional distance, he was the one who knew this couldn’t go anywhere good. But… you were right there, the comfort of knowing you were OK so close.

He knocked.

You were silent for a moment, long enough that he considered just going back to his room when you spoke.

“Come in.”

He did, finding you tucked into a corner of the couch that sat below the window, a tablet and papers spread on every surface around you. You seemed almost surprised to see him, your eyebrows rising as you looked at him through your lashes, not fully looking up from something that was sitting open on your lap.

“I thought you might be Ellie,” you said. “Can I help you?”

He shrugged.

“Saw the light,” he said, handing you the bottle, staying far enough away from you that he had to stretch to reach and you had to reach back to take it. “Thought you might… I dunno.”

You nodded slowly, opening the beer and taking long pull.

“Thanks,” you said, adjusting enough that the pages spread on the couch around you rustled. Joel just nodded, opening his own beer and taking a sip, too. He didn’t taste it much, one hand shoved in the pocket of his pajama pants as he walked slowly through your office, taking everything in. He was rarely in this room, he didn’t know it well. There was an Emmy on your desk and three more on a bookshelf. There were two Golden Globes, too, all in better shape than the Oscar was. He frowned at that.

“How many of these damn things do you have?” He asked, glancing back over his shoulder to you.

“Emmys?” You asked. “Just the four. Three for Siren and then one for Family Tree. That was my first one, they gave me some meatier things once I was in my teens. Some ‘very special episode’ type bullshit. One where I had to decide whether or not to have sex with my high school boyfriend, that sort of thing. The television academy ate it up. Then there are the Globes - one for Siren, one for The District - and there’s a SAG in my office in LA. I think that’s it.”

“Lot of hardware,” Joel said, coming back to the sitting area of your office, taking the chair near your end of the couch, his fingers rapping against the glass of his beer bottle.

“Yeah, well,” you laughed, a little cynically. “I keep telling Leo he needs to get me on Broadway so I can win a Tony. Then all I need is some bullshit way to win a Grammy and I can EGOT.”

“EGOT?” Joel frowned.

“Emmy, Grammy, Oscar, Tony,” you said. “All the big ones.”

“Shit,” he shook his head a little, taking another swig of beer. “Aim high, I guess. What are you workin’ on?”

“Character research,” you said, holding up what was on your lap. It was a comic book, one from the series he’d seen Ellie reading. “I think I’ve just about figured her out but I’m trying to make sure I feel good with it before Friday. I’ve been reading up on how people react to certain traumas, trying to fold that in, see what seems right.”

“Didn’t know playin’ a superhero needed so much research,” he said.

“Playing anyone requires research,” you said. “People are complicated things.”

“Suppose so,” he said. “What…”

“Why are you here, Joel,” you cut him off.

He clenched his jaw for a moment.

“I…” he took a deep breath. “Do you really have to go to LA.”

“Are you serious?” You gaped at him.

“Yes,” he said. “It’s not safe. Should stay here where we have shit more locked down and…”

“And I have a movie to make!” You cut him off. “Do you really expect them to relocate production to fucking Texas because of me?”

“Yes,” he said again.

“Joel,” you pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed.

“Ain’t you some huge star?” He pressed on, staring down at his beer bottle, picking at the label with his thumb. “Got all those damn trophies, everyone on the damn planet knows your name, just have all that shit come to you and…”

“Joel,” you said, more gently this time, gentle enough that he frowned, looking over at you. You smiled a little. “That’s not how it works.”

“Why not.”

“Because,” you said. “Do you know what goes into making a movie? It’s not just some actors and camera men. There’s equipment we’re using that only exists in a few places on the planet and LA is one of those places. We start principal photography in January, do you know how much work has already been done so we’re ready to shoot? Do you know how many people’s livelihoods depend on this movie being made when we said we were making it where we planned to make it? And I mean actual people, not just rich assholes like me. The budget on this movie is $210 million and yeah, $35 million of that is coming to me but the vast majority of that money is going to support the hundreds of people who work on the movie who are just trying to pay their mortgage and put their kids through college. We move locations, shift filming dates now? Those people are suddenly out of work when it’s too late to get on any other projects. If you don’t think you’re up for it, talk to Tommy, have them send someone else…”

“No,” he said sharply.

You frowned.

“Why not?” You asked. “Just…”

Joel clenched his jaw, looking down at the beer bottle again. The corner of the label was shredded.

“Don’t trust anyone else,” he said. “If you’re goin’ to LA, it’s with me. End of story.”

You were quiet for a moment.

“Why do you care so much?” You asked eventually.

“I… I don’t…” he bounced his leg, trying to find the words before finally looking over at you again. “I don’t want to watch you die.”

You scoffed.

“I don’t think anyone would really hold it against you if I do,” you said wryly. “So don’t worry about it.”

“That ain’t why I’m worried,” he said sharply before taking a deep breath and going back to the bottle, picking away at the label more and more. “I didn’t take this job to watch someone fuckin’ hunt you down.”

You were quiet again.

“Why did you hit Alan today.”

He took a shaky breath.

“I thought he was hurtin’ you,” he couldn’t bring himself to look at you. “And I.. I can’t…”

He clenched his jaw, gripping the bottle so tight it hurt.

“I need you to not get hurt,” he said. “Not gonna let you get yourself killed. And you… you just like to ignore what I tell you, you do reckless shit and it’s gonna…”

“I’ll do what I’m told,” you cut him off, a keen kind of honesty in your voice, the shift noticeable enough that he looked over at you. Your eyes were oddly open, looking at him in much the same way you had the night you got hurt at the premiere, like all the artifice of your public persona had been stripped away and all that was left was yourself. “I don’t… I absolutely loathe just how much of my own life is out of my control and how all I am is just some thing all these other people move around to make money and the fact that I can’t even go outside right now without someone babysitting me… It struck a nerve. But… I’ll behave. I’ll do what you tell me to do. I won’t take any risks, I’ll tell you everything you need to know, I’ll obey when you tell me to do something. I’ll take it seriously.”

He watched you for a moment.

“You’ll let me keep you safe?” He asked quietly.

“I’ll let you keep me safe,” you said softly. “I promise. Just come with me to LA. You… you make me feel safe. I’ll do what you say, I’ll let you protect me. I promise.”

“OK,” he nodded, looking at the label in pieces in his hands. “I’ll protect you.”

He just prayed that would be enough.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I know this took me roughly 6 million years to update and I wish I had a good reason for that but, in all honesty, I just don't. I appreciate you spending your time with these characters, even after I've left you hanging.

Things are going to start ramping up next chapter! I really can't wait for what's coming, there's stuff I've been picturing since I first thought up this story that is just around the corner. I hope you enjoy it!

In the mean time, if you want to see what Thanksgiving Day was like for Siren and Joel, you can check out this (now officially canon) one shot I posted for the holiday.

Thanks again for being here! I love sharing this story with you all.

Love you!!

Taglist: @christinamadsen @eff4freddie @brittmb115 @copperhalfcent @r3dheadedwitch @pedropascalsbbg @lovelyjess69 @yopossum @moel-jiller @picketniffler @lilyevanstan1325 @reluctanthalfwayoptimism @wintersquirrel @missladym1981 @mellymbee @canthinkof1user @inept-the-magnificent @secretlyangelic @pedrobae @scarletsloveletter @phry-k @sunnytuliptime

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #bodyguard!joel #bodyguard au #tsats #the savage and the sanctuary

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mstowel · 26 days ago

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this is a lot of posts for me in 24 hours, but there are a couple things i saw/experienced at the show in relation to audience & stage door behavior that i think is important to know to discourage that behavior. this is gonna be super long, so bear with me <3

tldr: be quiet during shows & be respectful to those around u at stage door

first the audience behavior. i was sat behind two people who i have had the unfortunate luck of sitting behind at an earlier show a few weeks ago. so this doesnt go for all audience members, but i have heard other situations like this as well. the ENTIRE show, they were lip syncing to the songs and dancing (which ok worse things have happened, but it was incredibly distracting for the people around me, who kept complaining about their behavior). they also were literally quoting the scenes out loud. like, would say the character's lines before the actor even said it themselves. it was actually insane? like fully ruining scenes and moments in the show, because they clearly wanted people around them to know they had seen the show before. behavior like that is just rude and incosiderate. if u wanna sing along and act out the dialogue, maybe stay home and watch a bootleg? people paid a LOT of money to see the actors perform, not random audience members. it was really frustrating to a lot of people sitting around me, and to me as well. so just dont do that maybe?

for stage door behavior, im gonna name one person (bc multiple ppl have had issues with them), but leave the other two unnamed because i dont think anyone needs to receive unnecessary hate. there were a few people at stage door who werent at the show, and i understand that that happens all the time and u cant really do anything about it! but it was people who often brag and post about going only to the stage door without seeing the show and take up a few spots at the front. like....this is not the first time they've done this, and also they were maybe involved in a certain dming and food situation from a while ago if u guys remember that....so. no hate to them, free will and all, you can do what you want. but like, the repeat offending of constantly stage dooring without seeing the show is wild to me.

for the named person, broadwaypolaroids needs to chill tf out. i know multiple ppl who have had issues with her, and i never really cared to think about her until the last few times i have stage doored (all of which she has been at) where she is just so disrespectful not only to the actors, but the other fans who were at the show waiting to talk to the actors. she was fully interrupting fans conversations with certain actors to make the actors take at lesat 3 or 4 photos on her dumbass camera. she also was fully blocking the way for actors to leave and forcing them into stopping to take pictures. also insane that she charges money for these pictures and i think more people need to be talking about it, but maybe thats just me. i also one night saw her be rude to security because trevor (who was on as pony that show) didnt sign playbills in the section she was standing in. mind u trevor was outside for lile 15 minutes really taking his time with the fans. she went up to security and basically demanded they get trevor to come back outside. it was literally one of the more insane things i have ever witnessed. anyways, that turned into a rant. but the behavior from her last night was seriously not cool and shes just a rude person from what i have seen.

anways! lets remember to be considerate and respectful of those around us, both at the show and afterwards. everyone is there for the reason of enjoying the show and maybe getting to compliment the actors' performances after. so just be quiet during shows and be kind to those around u, in seats and at stage door. its truly not that hard. ok bye! <3

#the outsiders musical #the outsiders broadway #the outsiders stage door

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racinggirl · 10 months ago

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furthest from truth

Lando Norris fic - requested

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a/n: I'm baaack! It's been a while, I have to admit. But after having 3 new requests today, I got motivated again and I decided to write the ones that were yet to be posted on my page. I hope you like it! I've added some spice to the end of the chapter 👀 Don't forget to follow me so you won't miss my other stories! 🫶🏼

Sun. Beach. Sand. Friends.

It might look cliché, but it’s what filled your hearts with joy.

‘’Norris! Give me a hand, will ya?’’ Your lips pulled away from those of your boyfriend the moment he got up to help one of your friends with preparing the jet skis.

‘’Finally,’’ your best friend, Ava, laughed as she took a seat next to you. ‘’Now that your lips are no longer glued to his, what do you think of grabbing a drink, I’m in a desperate need for a Frozen Daiquiri.’’

She pulled you up on your feet after you agreed on getting drinks. It was your holiday, after all, and even though it was just your first day of the 3-week holiday here in Dubai, you were planning on making it the best holiday yet.

You and Lando had been together for a little over 5 months now, the two of you bumping into each other at last year’s Christmas Market in London. You spilled your bottle of water over your shirt, and he was determined to win you a teddy bear so he could make it up to you.

After that Christmas Market, you went on a ton of dates. In London, but also in Monaco, as that was where he lived. You attended 3 races before he finally asked you to be his last summer, and obviously you said yes, otherwise this story is kind of weird, isn’t it?

Anyways, you knew who he was when you met him, having watched a few races here and there, along with your friends.

The moment you told your friends Lando had asked you out on a date, they couldn’t contain their excitement and practically forced you to go out with him. So, you did. And here we are, almost a year later.

‘’Two Frozen Strawberry Daiquiri, please.’’ Ava ordered the drinks for the two of you and once you felt the cold glass in your hand, you immediately took a sip.

‘’Urgh,’’ you groaned, your eyes closed. ‘’Best drink ever.’’ You giggled.

‘’Lando! Oh my god watch out!’’ Your grip on his life jacket was tight as he was riding the jet ski with you on the back. ‘’You idiot!’’ You laughed, hands gripping his shoulders firmly when you felt him go even faster – if that was even possible.

‘’You’re riding a jet ski with an F1 driver, love. Did you really think I was gonna go slow?’’ You groaned at his reply, and you simply held onto him like you could fall off any moment, which was probably the case.

Everything sport related was a game to him, and he was very, very competitive. He hated losing, which is why he tried his hardest to make you his, with success.

‘’Okay, okay, enough speed for me, let’s go back to the shore and have dinner, I’m starving.’’ You breathe, Lando’s hand moving over your leg slowly. He lifted his hand till it rested on your outer thigh, whilst still steering the jet ski with one hand. Slower, though, thankfully.

‘’We will, love, we will.’’ He said, but you could hear the amusement in his voice, his tone, teasingly with a smirk.

‘’Lan-…’’ You couldn’t even finish your sentence before your boyfriend pulled the right handle towards him, the two of you flying over the water. He made sure to keep an eye on you, but he knew you enjoyed this, and he wasn’t wrong.

You might tell him to stop going fast, heck, even in the bedroom you’d tell him to stop, but it was always with that flirty and teasing tone. He knew that tone, and he knew it meant you did not want him to, in fact, stop. So, he kept going.

‘’I should have thought better before signing that contract about us.’’

You were fully drenched, Lando obviously pushing the strings too hard which caused you to fall off the jet ski. Nothing harsh, it was all playful, and the two of you were laughing when it happened.

‘’You’re an idiot.’’ You smirked, rolling your eyes playfully as you squeezed the salty water out of your hair.

‘’I know, but you like it.’’ He teased, slapping your ass lightly as his hand moved its way towards your hip, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. ‘’I love you.’’

Dinner, which was absolutely insane – mostly because you were starving, but definitely because it was one of the best restaurants here in Dubai.

‘’Ehm..’’ Ava shoved you her phone, and you immediately let your eyes wander over the tweets, the Instagram posts, and the articles.

Lando saw the worried look on your face, so he cut off the conversation with his friends and pointed his attention to you, causing his friends to do the same.

‘’What’s wrong, love?’’ He asked, his thumb drawing small circles on your knee as his gaze went from you to the phone, back to you.

You showed him the articles, and a heavy sigh escaped his lips. You could see his jaw clench, the apple in his throat bobbing as he swallowed thickly. ‘’They really need to make rumours about everything, don’t they?’’ He sighed and pressed a kiss to your temple.

‘’Don’t worry, Y/N, I’ll fix it, we’ll post a statement on Insta, alright?’’ He said, his arms wrapping around you which caused you to relax.

You felt guilty, because you were aware of the eyes that were on him now that his contract with McLaren was coming to an end. You knew his contract was getting renewed, but the world didn’t, and you didn’t want to cause issues.

People blaming McLaren for not renewing his contract, and how this. People blaming McLaren for forcing Lando to be in a relationship with you, a PR relationship, which was the furthest from the truth. You loved each other so much, and McLaren had absolutely nothing to do with the two of you.

‘’Come here.’’ Lando’s arms made his way around your shoulders, his strong arms pulling you even closer to his chest. The bed was comfy, soft, but the tension in your face was apparent, especially to Lando.

‘’I just, I feel so stupid for saying that.’’ You sighed but Lando reassured you immediately.

‘’Babe, it’s not the first time we say this, it’s our joke, and people don’t get it, apparently. You know how the media is, they exaggerate everything to get those views and clicks, so they probably overheard you saying that, but did not see the look on your face, or your beautiful smile when you said that.’’ His voice was soft and calm, like he was not stressed at all about this.

‘’But the image McLa-..’’

‘’No, baby, no. That’s not your fault, okay? They should have probably announced the contract extension sooner, yeah, but that has absolutely nothing to do with whatever you said at the beach, okay?’’ He said, stern, but gentle. And you believed him. Of course you did, you believed everything he would tell you because you knew he was right.

‘’Now let’s make that post so people will stop complaining about things that are the furthest from the truth. That, and so I can take you tonight because I really, really want to.’’ He whispered the last thing with a voice so deep, you felt chills all over your body.

landonorris added to his story

landonorris & yourusername

liked by user1, user2, user3 and 1,273,710 others

I love you more than anyone imagine. Nothing can stop us, I promise you. Best decision I've ever made 🧡

view all 39,264 comments

user1 I feel ashamed

user5 as you should user3 we all should. how could we think it was just a PR. they are in love in love.

user2 You are so so so cute together!

‘’Lando, fuck, stop!’’ You breathe, hands pushing against his chest as he looked into your eyes, his bright ones a few shades darker than usually. He smirked, wetted his lips before thrusting even harder… Just how you asked.

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admirationandromantics · 2 months ago

Text

Teacher's Lounge

Another request! I'm thinking about not posting updates to anonymous requests, and instead just pasting said request in here? I'll tag you if you didn't ask anonymously. It's easier and more neat.

🍋‍🟩 Hear me out, Josh becoming a temporary teacher for film with his own office, he often let you study in there seeing as the campus didn’t have enough study space to accommodate everyone and you become quite overstimulated on a normal day (@b3rryb3t)

This is therefore maybe a teacher x student thing, but you're roughly the same age anyway (maybe 2 years difference), since he graduated before you and has already come out with his debut movie. You're still hanging out with the friend group as well.

Word count: 1,6k (Unedited)

It’s hard to find good reading spots on campus. My messy room could be an option, but I can’t get inspired there. I need different surroundings than what I’m used to. Booked rooms are a no-go, especially now that exams are coming closer. They’re always booked, and everyone uses them. I’ve tried going to the library, but if there’s room, the place is never quiet. The librarians don't care. I get it though, everyone is stressed, and the only place you can work on a group assignment is the library. You have to talk, you have to discuss. This means that I’m still left without a spot to study. I’ve tried other libraries, other cafes and even at my friends place. Nothing works. Maybe there’s something in the other buildings? Somewhere quiet where I’ll feel content.

The first building that comes to mind is the Teachers house. A large building with some group rooms and many small study sofas. Many of the teachers have offices there, but if I'm quiet, they won’t mind. These spots are usually also taken, but maybe I’ll have a chance if I’m quick.

I walk down the hall, stopping when I see the old abandoned office. This room is usually always empty, waiting for someone to inhabit it. But it’s not empty anymore. The previously collected dust is cleaned away, the wood door has a new furnish and a brand new slide-on plate reads a familiar name. Joshua Washington.

I widen my eyes in surprise, it cannot be. Why is he here? Didn’t he already finish his degree? He just finished his debut movie, which was excellent. I saw him at one of Emily’s parties too, which was not long ago. About three weeks. He looked good then, very good. Like he felt fulfilled and accomplished. He should feel good about himself. Not many people do that on their first big project. He did talk about a new job he got, but I assumed it was another film-related gig. Was this the job?

My curiosity gets the better of me, and I carefully knock three times. The sound is beautiful, hard and dark wood which doesn’t vibrate as I hit it. I wait, hearing shuffling and metal clinking inside.

“Um, yeah, come in!”

I open the door, holding the handle hard. If I was wrong, then this would be an awfully awkward encounter. The door glides easily without making any sound. They have really improved this place. He lifts his head, meeting my stare as he does. A smile creeps on his face, eyes lighting up by the sight. I stand still, mouth agape and furrowed brows. He’s really here.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite student”

“You teach here?”

“As of this Monday, yes”

I close the door behind me, looking around the room. It’s cozy, filled with family pictures and a couple of movie posters. His diploma is also on the wall. On one surface are many small film trophies from his childhood, and in front of all of them, the price he got last year for his first debut Hollywood movie. I look around in awe, the yellow light making everything feel so professional and real.

“And by the way, I’m not your student, I take another course”

“That can’t stop me from stating that you’re in a superior’s office”

“How did you get this job?”

“They offered it to me”

“Just out of nowhere? You don’t have experience in teaching. You’re not even a professor”

“I guess my talent shines through”

I look at him and his smug face. He’s leaning back in the roller chair, feet upon his desk. Everything here is so neat, so unlike him. He also loves being able to joke like this, but honestly, I’m still surprised by the circumstances. He made one movie, and now, the university wanted him to teach a course?

“If I know you correctly, you’ll probably be fired by the next month”

“And why’s that?”

I take a seat in front of him, not surprised that the chair is lower than him. Oh, how he loves his power trips. The chair is comfortable, and suits the surroundings, but I feel small.

“Because you can’t keep your hands to yourself”

“That’s true”

“There’s only a question about time, when will you fuck one of your students, and when will you get caught”

He laughs, shaking his head as he fiddles with an expensive ball pen. He looks at me in disbelief, maybe a little surprised that I said exactly what I thought.

“Who’s to say I haven’t done it already?”

“One week into the job?”

“Maybe”

“You’re disgusting, Washington”

“That’s Mr. Washington to you” he corrects, pointing at me with the same pen. I smile at him, almost unable to hide my laughter.

“I’m not gonna start calling you that”

“Ugh, damn you”

A slight silence follows, and analyse his desk. Many, many pens, his laptop, a stack of papers and a couple of memory sticks. Again, everything is so neat. It makes me feel weird.

“By the way, I actually haven’t had a teacher-student relationship”

“You shouldn’t” I quickly shoot back. It would not be a good idea. Being in the filming industry is hard in itself, but he also has a shot of doing something more. This was not something to take lightly.

“At least not gonna with my own students”

“Jesus Chris Josh”

He laughs again, loving my overdramatic reactions. He knows what gets me to tip over, how to make me irritated and upset. Of course he’ll use it to his advantage.

“Anyways, what are you doing here? Isn’t your building on the other side of campus?”

I sigh loudly, leaning back in the chair and letting my head fall back. I’m tired, exhausted even. But just two more weeks, and I’ll be finished with the exams. My diploma isn’t far away.

“Trying to find a study spot, but everywhere is taken”

“Why don’t you just use your dorm?”

“Easy for you to say, you never lived in one”

He leans back, furrowing his brows and being deep in thought.

“You could sit here?”

I look up, surprised by the offer. Is that even okay, am I, as a student, allowed to do that? I think about it, the place is quiet, cozy and a completely different atmosphere than usual. It could work.

“Can I?”

“Of course, it wouldn't be the first time you’ve been in my quarters” he teases, leaning back over the desk.

“Haha, very funny, but are you serious?”

“Yeah, I mean, my students usually don’t come here, too busy actually understanding the material, compared to some” he points at me and my backpack. I roll my eyes.

“Well, if getting my degree consisted of knowing the on and off button of a camera, I would excel at it”

“Careful, or you might not get to study here”

“Okay, okay, sorry. You’re an accomplished producer and teacher who’s totally awesome”

“And you have to call me Mr. Washington”

I scoff at his request, shaking my head. He’s still smiling, biting casually into his lower lip.

“I draw the line there”

“Fine”

I take up my laptop, immediately starting to type. This was gonna be great. Might have some negative effects though. We’ve got a history. Too much time spent together has usually led to more uncivilised activities, but that’s not something I have to worry about now.

***

The weeks pass, and I truly enjoy his company, even if it’s in silence. He’s busy grading papers and making schedules. I’m prepping for my exams, writing, reading, and memorising. Everything was going great, and the day of the exam finally came.

I took one look over the questions, and my heart fell. What the hell was this? I did my best, drawing out a mind map to help me refresh my memory. It actually went quite well, if I do say so myself. Not the best, but I’m definitely not failing.

I walk down the hall yet again, not bothering to knock on Josh’s door. His head rises, noticing my presence, and he smiles. God I love how he smiles.

“So, how did it go?”

I close the door, biting my lip as I turn to face him again. He looks up expectantly, eyes big and round. He rises, walking around the desk to face me.

“It went great!” I blurt out excitedly, arms going out. He smiles, meeting me in a hug as I throw my arms around him. His hands go to my waist, pulling me closer against him. I bury my face in his neck, warm skin against mine, smelling his expensive cologne.

“See, you just needed a place to study”

“I indeed did”

We break apart a little, arms still holding tight so none of us leaves. He leans in, eyes lowering to my lips. I know what’s about to happen, it has happened a million times before. In his bedroom, a couple of random bathrooms, the mountain lodge, but never in an office. My finger finds its way to his lips, stopping him in his tracks.

“Mr. Washington, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Just celebrating” he whispers against my finger, hand going up to take it away. He finds his way to the back of my head, tangling in my hair as he pulls me closer.

“You can get in trouble”

“Never stopped us before”

His breath feels hot against my skin, head getting dizzy and body warmer. How long were we going to keep this thing alive?

“Fuck it” I whisper against him, capturing his lips on mine.

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