#he couldn't take time off work. he was devastated

[maggotwithanf]

happy holidays to those who celebrate

[thebearer]

making the bed |carmen berzatto x reader| part one

prompt: carmen's stressed. food critics, a newborn baby, balancing work life and married life and now dad life; he's bound to break, everyone knows it. but no one ever thought he'd lash out on you.

or, part one of the devastation fic. based off this ask from the other day. two more parts to come.

contains: mega angst. mega angst, with no resolution in this part. hurt, no comfort (in this chapter, will be later in part 3). mean!carmen, very mean. mom!reader x dad!carmen with newborn teddy. fighting, language, carmen says mean stuff he doesn't mean. past mentions of trauma, family trauma, mikey mentioned. very angsty and a little heavy, please read at your own discretion. word count- 3.5k+.

"Are you ok?"

Carmen now understood why that phrase used to send Donna into such a blind rage, lips pursing and jaw clenching more and more every time he heard it. First at work, then with you, it felt never ending.

It was beginning to feel like critic season with how many were coming in, snooty and demanding to be impressed. It couldn't have come at a worst time, right in the middle of busy season with the start of the holidays. Days at The Bear were filled with frantic panic, running around, making sure everything was perfect, accounted for, and Carmen always had the sinking feeling it wasn't- that he'd forgotten something, messed something up. 

It wasn't rare for him to work himself up like this, a normal that you always warned him about, but he'd always had a solitude. As long as he'd known you, he'd had a place to go, to unwind, to let himself rest and reset with you. And he still did, it was just shared now with a newborn.

Dorothea Michelle. Teddy, for short. The light of his life, yours too. Nearly two months old with a set of lungs that sounded much louder, much more developed than that. Nights were long, sleepless, spent trying to lull Teddy back to sleep, awake even if he wasn't up with her. Carmen couldn't allow himself the selfishness to relax, to rewind, to "take it easy" like everyone told him to. At work, he was the boss; at home, he was a dad.

"Fuck, fuck," Carmen's sleepy stare was broken by a lick of bubbling heat, the lamb's roux popping with the high heat, splashing all over Carmen's chef whites.

"Jeff, c'mon," Tina clicked, shaking her head, moving the pan to lower heat. "What're you doin'?"

Carmen grit his teeth, snatching a rag off the stainless steel counter tops, scrubbing the burgundy stain, huffing when it only spread the stain.

"What happened?" Sydney turned, looking from the burnt sauce to Carmen's stained chef shirt. "Oh,"

"Do we have a spare coat?" Carmen huffed, throwing the rag down with a firm smack against the counter.

"I don't think so, Carm." Sydney shook her head. "You took the last ones home with you two days ago. The wine-"

"-I know, Chef, I know." Carmen snapped, running a hand through his hair. "Fuck, I-I can't fuckin' serve the critics lookin' like this. With shit all over me- fuck."

"Hey, easy, easy," Richie turned the corner, his hands held up. "What's goin' on?"

"Jeff got sauce over him. He doesn't have any clean clothes." Tina muttered, irritated that she had to fix his mess, more irritated that he wasn't taking care of himself. You have a baby, Jeff, you need to rest and take some time, she'd told him. Carmen only waved her off.

"Okay, okay, hey, that's no problem." Richie's voice raised, lifting over Carmen's. "You go home and change, get your spare, check on my beautiful goddaughter, and then come back with your A game. Yes?"

Carmen didn't even humor him with a snarky remark, yanking his coat off and stomping towards the office to grab his things. Richie and Tina looked at each other, shaking their head gently.

"Kids runnin' thin, T." Richie muttered with a sigh. "He's gonna break. It's gonna be bad."

"Yeah, he is. Gonna wear himself out before then." Tina shook her head. "Jeff needs a vacation." They both jumped at the slamming of the backdoor, Carmen's angry exit shaking the foundation.

"Needs to be fuckin' medicated. Fuckin' lunatic." Richie scoffed, rolling his eyes at Carmen's dramatics.

The drive home was filled with silence, Carmen's iron grip on the wheel, tearing through the traffic towards the house- his house, his home. 

Home, but it didn't provide the same comfort that it usually did. Carmen's shoulders still stayed tense, buzzing with rage, not dissipating when he thought of you, or of Teddy, knowing you'd both be there, excited to see him. 

You jumped at the sound of the car door slamming, peeking out the window to see Carmen's parked next to yours, furiously stomping up the front steps. You frowned, grabbing the baby monitor, walking towards the front door.

Carmen nearly hit you with how fiercely he flung the door open. "Woah," You reached for the door, stopping it before he could flick it shut. "Carm, don't slam it. Teddy's asleep. I just got her down." You frowned at him, shutting it slowly.

Carmen looked at you but didn't speak, looking through you with a rage that had your spine tingling before he finally broke his gaze, stomping towards the laundry room. "Carm? What’re you doing home? Don’t you have dinner soon?" You hesitated slightly, lingering in the doorway with an uncertainty you hadn’t felt with Carmen before. 

Carmen didn’t answer, his jaw still ground tight while he rummaged through the clean clothes, carelessly unfolding and shifting the folded clothes.

"Carmen," You said more firmly, caching his gaze. He didn't speak still, just stared at you- through you. "Are you ok?" You lifted a brow, features softening in worry.

Carmen paused, eyes closing, shoulders tensing in agitation. Are you ok? His ears rang, a familiar rage that he hadn't felt in years bubbling up deep in his chest. Frustrated and blinding and rampant, heat rushing through his veins, pulling himself further and further from reality into someplace different- someplace darker in his mind. 

"What's wrong?" You pressed, he could barely hear it, ears ringing at your question. "Did something happen? Did the critic come-"

"-Where's my chef whites?" Carmen barked, cutting you off, his chest tightening more and more with every heavy heave of his chest. You flinched at his tone.

"Uh, I-I haven't seen the whites. I washed your white tee-"

“-You what? Y-You what?” Carmen spat, eye widening with a wild, raged glint in his eye. Your stomach flipped and fell with fear, stepping back instinctively. 

“I-I washed your tee, Carm, that’s all that you left in the laundry basket-” 

"-Are you fucking kidding me?" Carmen boomed, his head spinning, body buzzing with rage. Your breath hitched, frozen in fear at the anger in his tone, the roar of his voice bouncing off the walls, echoing through your ears in a painful drum. 

Carmen moved, snatching the dirty clothes basket, dumping it into the ground with a shake until the dirty chef coat fell on top. He gripped the basket, flinging it across the room with a hard throw. The final push to his bad mood that sent him right over the edge, crashing into a pit of blinding fury, aggravation, breaking him from the inside out.

"Fuck!" Carmen roared, his voice shaking the walls, your breath leaving your lungs in a trembling exhale of fear. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! This is- This is- Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” 

You tensed in shock, gripping the baby monitor in fear, maybe surprise, as it started to buzz to life with Teddy's startled whimpers. Her small cries pulled you out of your frozen state, something deeper than fear replacing the ache in your stomach. 

"Carmen-" You gaped, voice wobbling with uncertainty, taking slow shuffled steps towards the stairs. “Carmen, calm-calm down. Ok? Calm down.” 

“Calm down? You want me to fuckin’ calm down?” Carmen sneered, an angry red flush blossoming in splotchy deep hues up his neck, towards his cheeks. “You don’t do shit, nothin’ that I fuckin’ ask for! Just sit around all fuckin’ day an-and I’m supposed to calm down?” 

“Carmen,” Your voice wobbled, throat tight with tears, hurt and fear strangling your words. “I-You didn’t ask me to wash them. I-I didn’t know. They weren’t in the hamper-” 

“-I shouldn’t have to ask you to wash them!” Carmen roared, eyes so wide you thought they might pop right out of his head, neck vein protruding on exemplifying his rage. “You know what I’m going through! You know how much fuckin’ stress I’m under! I go to that-that shit hole, an-and work my fuckin’ ass off so you don’t have to! Then I come home, and I-I can’t even get a second of peace!” 

“Stop,” You hiss, finally regaining your composure, his words fully sinking into you  now, feeling the full effect of them. “I-I just had a baby. I’m still on maternity leave taking care of a baby- our baby, and I’m tired too. But I’m not yelling at you-” 

“-Oh, right. Right.” Carmen laughs sarcastically, humorless as he runs his hand down his face. It felt mocking, left you feeling small and too vulnerable for your liking. “Because in between your napping an-and feeding, you couldn’t stick a fucking jacket in the wash, right? You’re so busy.”  

“What is wrong with you?” You snap, hoping he can’t hear the tears in your voice, the way your voice shakes with emotion. 

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with me?” Carmen scoffs, throwing his hands out. “I get no fuckin' sleep, go work my fuckin' ass off, a-and then I come home so I can go back and work my ass off some more, and-and you can’t do one simple fuckin’ thing? You can’t help me out? And then you wanna know what’s wrong with me? When you sit on your ass all fuckin’ day-” 

Teddy’s piercing wail pulls you out of your shocked trance, nose and throat burning with hurt filled tears you refuse to shed. Instead, you turn, climbing the stairs on shaky legs, the sound of Teddy’s cries growing louder and louder. Anchovy watches you from the top of the stairs, sensing the tension, your upset, sliding against your leg as if to comfort you. 

Carmen scoffs, hands buzzing and trembling with rage, the ringing in his ears growing louder and louder with each of your footsteps on the stairs and down the hall. He can barely hear Teddy’s sobs, hands threading through his hair, pulling at his scalp. He sees you walk towards the bedroom, quickly, hugging Teddy to your chest. 

“Oh, don’t go fuckin’ do it now!” Carmen roared, your ignoring him only infuriating him further. “It won’t be ready in time now. I’ll just look like a fuckin’ idiot for the critic tonight! Not that you care! Why would you, huh? I-I mean just our livelihood, just our fuckin’ income!” 

You swallowed back your tears, head tilting towards the ceiling, hands shaking with every shove of your things into the overnight bag. Just enough to get you through the night, the next day. A few essentials, Teddy’s spare onesies, a charger, your wallet- you stopped mid-shove of your items into the weekender bag, the sun’s rays catching in your wedding ring. Your heart fell, more and more, you weren’t sure how that was even possible. 

Carmen’s furious voice was still booming from downstairs, ringing and shaking in his furious fit. Richie and Sugar both warned you about Carmen’s tantrums, brought them up to embarrass him, tease him about it until he was red faced and hissing hushed threats at them. You never, never in your wildest dreams thought you’d be on the receiving end of one. 

You jumped, another slam of something Carmen had thrown, maybe hit in a fit of rage, causing Teddy to wail louder, Anchovy skittering nervously away. Tears leaked out of your eyes, twisting the ring off your finger, setting it on Carmen’s bedside table. Pulling the carrier out of the closet, Anchovy got in much easier than usual, which you were thankful for. 

Carmen was gripping the marble of the countertop when he heard you again, walking from the bottom of the stairs, quick steps towards the door to the garage, Teddy’s voice nearly hoarse from her crying. You kept your head high, tunnel-visioned towards your car, ignoring his heavy breathing and frantic pacing. 

“Wha-What are you doin’?” Carmen’s voice was softer now, still with a jagged edge that was cutting and harsh. The car door opened, the baby carrier hooked into the car seat. 

“Hey, wha- what are you- where’re you goin’? What’re you doin’?” Carmen’s heart dropped in a damning rush of hour, stumbling on heavy legs towards the garage. You ignored him, shushing Teddy gently, running a calming hand over her wet cheek, trying to coax her paci into her mouth. 

“Baby, no-no, no. Hey, no, I-I- What-” Carmen’s chest felt tight, mind numbing and racing, stuttering nervously. You reached for your bag, his hand reaching to grab the strap. “Whe-Where’re you-”

“-Don’t touch me.” You hissed, teeth bared, eyes shining with tears. Carmen flinched, pulling his hand back like he’d touched a hot stove. “Don’t you dare fucking touch me.” You sneered, pinning him with a watery glare that had his stomach turning in sickening fear. 

“Baby, hey, w-wait-C’mon, d-don’t-You don’t, you don’t need to do this, ok? I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Carmen choked out the words, frantic and unsure, his hands shaking when they ghosted over you back just for a moment. Wanting to touch you, to hold you, to grab you and keep you from leaving, but too scared to. Instead, he grabbed the car door you flung open, holding it when you tried to yank it closed. 

“Let go.” You hissed, sniffling back wet, snotty tears of fury and hurt. 

“Please, don’t-do-don’t do this. Please, baby, I-I’m sorry.” Carmen begged, blue eyes deepening with the burning red hues of tears, bloodshot and lashes wet. “Don’t-Don’t do this-” 

“-I didn’t do this.” You sneered, leaving Carmen flinching at your words. “Don’t you dare try to say this was me. After how you just talked to me? The shit you said to me in there? You think I’m going to stay?” Your voice cracked with emotion, lips pressing together to keep a cry in. 

“No, no, no, no, no, baby, please. Please, ju-just come inside. Come inside, please? Please, don’t-” 

“You don’t get to talk to me like that. To say that kinda stuff to me. That hurt, Carmen. That was mean.” You glared at him, tears leaking out of the corner of his eyes. “I don’t care if you’re stressed. I don’t care what’s going on- nothing, and I mean nothing, warrants you talking to me like that. Just because you fucked up, because you forgot to ask me to do it, because you’re stressed out- I don’t care what it is. You don’t talk to me like that, say those things when I’ve been home all day taking care of my ch- our child.” You nod back towards the sniffling baby, whimpering and crying half heartedly, her little eyelids drooping with sleep that was interrupted. 

Carmen felt sick, his knees tightening in fear, he was sure they might give out, that he might fall to the ground right there. Looking at the tiny baby, lip jutted and shaking in the mirror hooked on the back of the seat, then back at you, eyes red-rimmed and glaring at him with a hurt filled anger. 

“Don’t-” Carmen’s chest shook, a white-knuckled grip on the door. 

Your own hand curled around the door’s inner handle, yanking it away from him. “Move,” You hissed, pulling again. 

Carmen wasn’t sure why he let it go, why he let you shut it, locking the door in case he tried to open it again. Why he let you pull out of the driveway, why he didn’t stop you, why he didn’t run after you, only taking soft shuffles down the drive like a zombie as you drove away. Standing in the drive, Carmen swallowed down the spit that pooled in his mouth, stomach churning, sure he was going to be sick. 

He managed to trudge back to the garage, mind racing and far away, the ringing in his ears dulling but still deafening. It felt like he was in a dream- a nightmare, a hallucinating trance that felt like a sick, sick dream- Carmen was hoping it was. That he’d wake up and find you next to him asleep. That he could hug you, pull you into him, nose buried in your neck, still warm from your slumber. 

As the sun began to sink low into the sky, minutes turning into hours that Carmen sat motionless in the garage, staring in a trancelike state, he realized that this wasn’t a dream or a nightmare. No this was his reality, a horrific reality that he’d made into his own. Carmen sat, eyes trained on the concrete of the garage, voice racing and blending in his mind- his words, yours, Teddy’s cries, Natalie and Richie’s, flashbacks of his mother screaming fits. 

He didn’t move, frozen in chilling, eerie fear. What ifs and terrifying possible scenarios, consequences to his own actions that left him feeling sick, hands trembling. A spiraling of fears that only drug him deeper and deeper with every haunting replay of his outburst. Even the flashing of headlights turning into the driveway, filling the garage with light, didn’t pull him from his trance. 

“The fuck is he- Cousin!” Richie roared, laying on the horn. Carmen didn’t move, didn’t acknowledge that he heard it, only stared. Richie frowned, turning the car off, throwing the door open. 

“Cousin? Carm? What-What are you doin’? Dinner service started an hour ago. Syd is freakin’ the fuck out.” Richie threw his hands up, walking towards the man who still didn’t move. Richie’s heart skipped, flashbacks of Mikey flooding into his vision, parallels of the two brothers blurring before him. 

“Yo, Carm, you-you good?” Richie stepped into the garage, his spine tingling with icy fear. It was quiet, an eerie, unsettling quiet. “Cousin, hey, what-what’s wrong?” 

Carmen's chest rose and fell, tighter and tighter. He was suffocating, head spinning and mind racing so fast he felt light headed. He could barely hear Richie’s voice over the noise in his head, Richie’s hand shaking his shoulder finally breaking his trance enough to meet his eyes, rounded in fear filled question. 

“Carmen, what’s wrong? Is it- Don’t fuckin’ tell me it’s the baby. What the fuck is goin’ on-” 

“-She left.” Carmen’s voice shook, raspy and scared. His tongue still felt too thick, head still spinning. He wasn’t even sure he said it, Richie’s widening eyes the only thing confirming that he had said it. 

“What? Who-Who left? Who?” Richie looked around, like the clues might be there, sure that Carmen wasn’t talking about you. No, he wouldn’t- he couldn’t. Not you. 

Carmen’s breath hitched, a strangling of a sob caught in his throat, running his hand over his face. Richie didn’t miss the way it trembled, shaking even as it rested over his eyes. Your car was gone, the house too quiet, no baby Teddy crying, nothing but silence was left. 

Richie’s heartbeat crawled into a rapid, scared pace. “Why? Wh-Why would she-” Richie looked at Carmen, eyes wide but still, reading his expression. “No. No, Cousin, no. What-What did you do? Carmen,” Richie grabbed both his shoulders, shaking him lightly until he met his gaze. “What did you do?” 

Carmen’s face began to crack, behind his eyes, Richie could see flashbacks of something- something he didn’t know what, but whatever it was, it was painful. That was evident by the fear that glossed over Carmen’s eyes, realization and horror. Carmen’s shoulders shook, frame rocking with a sob he tried to swallow, but couldn’t. Deep cries, guttural sobs breaking out of his frame, heels of his hands pressed to his eyes, fingers curled and clenched around his greasy curls in agony. 

The damning realization flooded over him, that you’d left. 

You’d left, you’d taken Teddy, taken Anchovy- you’d left because he’d driven you away. His angry outburst, petulant, mean, hurtful- he’d been so cruel to you. You. His wife, the love of his life, mother of his child, the one person who loved him endlessly without stipulations or boundaries, the one person who truly understood him. 

And he’d driven you away. 

He wished he could blame his mom, his dad, his family for fucking him up so severely, maybe Mikey, even, for leaving him the shit show that was the restaurant, making his anxieties worse and fuse shorter. But sitting in the empty garage, Richie standing above him in silent shock, his sobs and angry sniffles echoing off the cement floor, Carmen knew he had no one to blame but himself. 

He’d fucked up. Really fucked up. Fucked up in a way that made all the other times look obsolete. 

Carmen had fucked up, and for once, he didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t avoid it, ignore it, deflect it like other times. Half hearted apologies and promises of change wouldn’t work, you weren’t here for him to even try to give them to you, and he didn’t know where you went. 

Carmen wasn’t sure where you went, how to fix this, why he’d done what he did, and a million other things that raced through his mind. What he did know, sitting in the too quiet garage, chest stuttering with heaving cries, was that he’d do anything. 

Anything, to get you back home. To make it right. To fix this and make it up to you. 

He wasn’t sure how, but he’d give up everything. Anything. His restaurant, his dreams, his hopes, his life, at this point, to make it up to you. 

[kissbyoon]

(📷) . ݁₊ “HOME”

╰┈ Seungcheol is your home; your comfort and happiness.

₍ 𝑓𝘵. ₎ 𓈒 승철 ˶ fluff, est. rs, comfort * skinship, cheol being too real, petnames (baby, love, hun) ⎯⎯ 1.9k ꒱ ✦ husband!csc x wife&fem!r

♪ A/N : first fic on this blog !! happy new year <3

After what felt like a minute of holding your breath in—you finally breathe a sigh of relief, in disbelief that the project you had been working on for more than six months was complete. All complete.

The project that caused you to do constant night shifts, sometimes even all alone when your colleagues left early, those exhausting hours of work that resulted in you not being able to give enough time to your husband—Seungcheol, was finally complete.

Only the fact that it was Seungcheol, saved you from multiple fights that couples go through, when one can't find the time to give their significant other.

You're grateful. Beyond grateful.

Leaning back in your chair, you throw your arms in the air with contentment, letting out a squeal as you do so.

“Finally,” you couldn't help the grin forming on your face, brightening your face features.

However, as you took the time to look around in search of a colleague to share this happy moment with, your grin immediately dropped.

“Everyone left?” Sighing, you glanced at your watch. It indeed was too late, it shouldn't be a surprise that everyone had left.

You were so focused on completing your project—determined to get it done before the deadline—that you can't even remember when your colleagues left.

You rose from your seat, piling up all the paper works and placing them neatly on your table by the corner, before taking your phone to call Seungcheol—only to frown as it didn't turn on.

“Huh? I had it switched off this whole time?” Confused and slightly panicked, you turn your phone on—now concerned as the screen flashed with text messages from Seungcheol and 10+ missed calls.

Without wasting a second, you immediately call Seungcheol, taking your bag as you make your way out of your department office.

Weirdly enough, Seungcheol wasn't picking up your calls, causing you to stress even more. He did say he would be working for late hours today, but he had tried calling you just an hour ago.

As you reached the elevator, you let out a loud groan at the sight of an ‘out of service' sign.

A million dollar company? Sounded more like a joke to you right now.

You had to take the stairs, Seungcheol didn't pick up the call, he would be working late hours, you'd have to go home alone at this hour, and last but something that leaves you devastated the most—having to sleep on the cold bed that lacked his warmth.

‘Thanks, life.’ you could only think to yourself, your soft footsteps echoing with each step you took down the stairs.

Reaching the bottom floor, you breathe a sigh of relief at the sight of the bright city illuminated with lights, the road filled with cars passing by in front of you.

As you step out of the building, you're immediately hit with the cool breeze of the freezing winter, causing you to hug yourself tightly.

You're always thankful that your company building is located at the centre of the city, meaning you never have to worry about going home late at night.

But today, even this breath-taking view of the city couldn't make your day better or make your eyes shine with awe. Because you know whom you need and he wasn't here with you at this moment.

You just wanted a kiss from him, wanted to hear ‘you did a great job today, baby, I'm so proud of you’ from him, wanted to spend the rest of the night with him, and just wanted him.

Sighing, you take slow but steady steps towards somewhere—you just wanted to take a little stroll before going home, because the one you wanted to see so much right now wouldn't be there when you enter the comfort of your home anyway.

Because the comfort of your home was Seungcheol. Without him, your house just felt like an empty, cool space you really don't feel like living in.

After a few minutes of walking, you stand by a bridge, admiring the view of the calmy flowing river. Indeed, it was too beautiful to resist—causing you to smile finally.

“What's got my baby so smiley?” The voice and the man you recognised right away cooed, carrying a hint of amusement that only you could pick up, followed by his strong arms wrapping around your waist so gently.

Immediately turning around, your face brightens, your lips curling up into the happiest grin that was only reserved for him.

“Cheollie!!” You swear you sounded like an excited child chirping over an ice cream, but you couldn't care less because Seungcheol was in front of you right now. Throwing your arms around his neck, you hugged him tightly.

Maybe too tightly because even Seungcheol couldn't return the hug with the energy you had.

“I think this is enough, love,” he laughed when you refused to let go even after a minute. One of his hands rubbed your back while the other tried to hug you back with the same energy you were hugging him.

“No, it's never enough.” You were quick to defend, immediately shaking your head as you only tighten your grip around him more.

“Hm, let me guess. You missed me too much?” he teased with an intention to get a reaction out of you, only to fold immediately when you nodded so genuinely.

“A little too much.” Finally pulling back from the hug, you look him in the eye with a pout. He softens, his eyes looking at you so intently as he pulls out his hand to hold your face.

“I’m here now, and I love you,” his voice was low and soft, as if it was only meant for you to hear. “But why were you working overnight again? Didn't your boss tell you that you would have a break today?”

Seungcheol was indeed right—your boss had informed your department that the employees can take a day off, except for the ones working on the recent project. This included you and four others, but you had to revise it all over again, which meant you had to stay overnight anyways.

“It wasn't for the ones working on the project,” Seungcheol’s eyebrow immediately furrowed, his expression unpleasant.

“Who is he? Who does he think he is—”

“Cheol, he's my boss.”

He pouted at that, and you let out a giggle.

“Well, unfortunately.” He rolled his eyes, waving his hand in the air—always more than happy to let you know that he despises your boss.

“I always told you, I'm a better CEO and boss than him, with a better company and a better income.” There he goes again, not leaving a chance to convince you to join his company.

“Cheol, hun, we talked about this.” you say, referring to the fact that working in his presence would be difficult for you. Not because he is distracting— No, screw that, he is distracting. You don't like to think that you’d have to work properly, aware of the fact that Seungcheol is in his office, just a hallway away from you, and you wouldn't be able to just run there to hug or kiss him.

He is that distracting.

“Hmph, fine. You love me so much, it's difficult to work in my presence—I get it!” Crossing his arms, he spoke in his pouty manner.

“Oh!” Your eyes widened, remembering the fact that the project causing you (Seungcheol) to go crazy, was finally all done. “I have good news!”

Seungcheol's hand paused mid-air, his eyes dramatically widening—the way you could basically see through him and what he was thinking, you couldn't help but let out a laugh.

This was not how he planned to know about this good news.

“W-what good news…? Why are you laughing?” He whispered, his face speaking out loud—he wanted to hear that.

Seungcheol seemed confused but eager to know the “good news" as your body trembled with laughter. The thought of him being nervous yet so giddy over something that's, unfortunately, not the case, made you want to squish his cheeks.

Finally taking control over your laugh, you let your intrusive thoughts win—reaching out to hold his soft cheeks in your hands, squishing them together.

“No, baby, that's not what I meant,” you look at him with an amused smile as you notice the shift in his expression—now, embarrassed but a hint of smile played on his lips.

He avoided your eyes and hung his head low, cheeks dusted with a bright shade of pink.

Tilting your head, you try to look at him in the eyes, smiling. “Or perhaps you really wanted me to be…”

“No, no,” he shook his head, letting out a chuckle, taking your heads in his. “Forget about that! Tell me what you wanted to say?”

“I completed it.”

“Completed? Completed what, hun?”

“Your most hatest, the project that was causing headaches.” The way Seungcheol’s face immediately brightened, a gasp escaping his mouth.

“Really!?”

“Really!”

Seungcheol kept himself from squealing with excitement right in front of everyone, and instead trapped you in his arms (hugged you), and spinned you around with the brightest smile.

“Cheol! Put me down!” You laughed, and he did, leaning forward to peck both of your cheeks.

“Does that mean you finally get paid leaves? Oh my god?” Exaggerating, the man in front of you covered his mouth and gasped. You hit him lightly on the shoulder.

“I will! You hate that company so much?”

“I do.”

“Me too.” You mumbled, turning around as you rested your elbow on the guardrail.

“You hate your own company? Then stop working there! Why are you there anyway?” He followed, intertwining his fingers with yours.

“Money, cheol, money.” You shoot him a look, followed by a laugh. He chuckled, but his eyes were focused on how the city lights enhance your beauty by far more.

“Which is something I make everyday, and it is more than your boss’s monthly income.” Him and his internal arguments with your boss never failed to make you burst into laughter.

“Hm, why do you hate him though?” Amused, but curious, you ask. He cocks his head to the side and scoffs.

“Why wouldn't I? Just because he is the boss doesn't mean he doesn't have to do anything. He can't rely on his employees for every damn work, and expect them to do it at light speed.” He sighed, rolling his eyes.

His rant went on and on, and you listened to him patiently—your smile never leaving your face as you stared at him.

“What is he, a man in his sixties?” he took a deep breath, huffing with disappointment.

“Cheol?” You called out, wrapping your hands around his arm, looking up at him.

“Hm?” He shifted his eyes on you, waiting for you to continue.

“Did you know? I love you.” Resting your chin on his shoulder, you told him that so sweetly, he had to pause for a moment to process it.

It wasn't like you and him didn't shower each other with ‘I love you' every single minute, but something about you taking your time to say it so sweetly and lovingly—the sincerity and love in your eyes visibly clear—it had an effect on him even after years of being with you.

“W-well,” he cleared his throat, looking away from your gaze. “I love you too. No, more.”

“Yeah? How much more?”

“Definitely more than your boss’s daily salary.” Again, you burst into a fit of laughter—followed by Seungcheol’s giggles and pleading for you to quiet down.

And this is what you mean, when you say he is your home.

@kissbyoon ⌕ ۫ all rights reserved/copying strictly prohibited.

[actual-changeling]

we do not talk enough about the moment right before crowley puts his sunglasses back on. the "nothing lasts forever" is devastating and if you're like me your eyes were so full of tears you couldn't see the screen the first time you watched it (just like crowley, look at us all twinning in sadness!).

there is a shift that happens in his eyes and i think it is absolutely fascinating and heartbreaking at the same time.

we begin with crowley averting his gaze from aziraphale's face and staring off into the distance instead, and you can see his spirit break. that crowley just lost the one thing in the world he cannot live without and we can see it written across his face like a neon sign.

then, as you'd expect, he gives into the need to cover up his pain, to try and make himself less vulnerable, and even before he lifts his glasses he looks down so aziraphale can no longer see his eyes.

now, the next part is what would not let me out of its grasp all day. we know it happens because of his demeanour afterwards and up until the kiss, but you can actually watch as crowley makes himself numb to the world.

i am intimately familiar with dissociation as a trauma and stress response, and while you can never fully control it, you do eventually find the switch in your mind that makes you snap back into the haze. crowley has had six thousand years to get really, really good at leaving reality behind when he needs and/or wants to.

that's exactly what he does.

he still looks sad, and yet there's just something distinctly distant in his eyes, the shift from openly heartbroken to "i don't want to feel any of this let me leave".

glasses? on

emotions? off

hotel? trivago

i have stared at those four frames more than any person probably should and i don't know if it's the light, if i am going insane, or if there is a single tear sliding out of his right (our left) eye. i'm probably insane and the light is a bitch so if anyone has some high resolution shots or anything that could answer that question without a doubt PLEASE do add it.

by now you are probably ready to threaten me with a knife in a dark alley but before you do that or drive your car off a cliff, let me tell you the best part:

aziraphale notices.

they might be communicating on two different frequencies but aziraphale knows crowley. he knows and loves him, and, most importantly, over the last few years he has gotten used to seeing crowley without his glasses. aziraphale could probably write a book on the expressions in his eyes alone and watches that shift happen and is devastated.

look.

he tries to make himself hope the same second, tries to convince himself crowley is putting on his glasses so they can leave together, but he knows.

aziraphale sees the light leave crowley's eyes, sees crowley leave, knowing that he is quite literally running away from him. you and me against the world, angel, but in that moment crowley firmly pushes him back to "the world" (or tries to, anyway).

the entire season we see crowley take off his glasses whenever he enters the bookshop to the point where he's running around without them on in broad daylight with jimbriel right there.

can you imagine how hurt and confused aziraphale must be?

because what crowley is telling him, if we really, really break it down, is that aziraphale is no longer a safe person for him. and repairing that trust is going to take time and work, no matter how much crowley loves him, how badly they love and need each other.

anyway to seal this off and really rub in the pain - how it started vs. how it ended. <3

oh one last thing: now crowley no longer has a single person he can be himself around, no one that knows him, no one he trusts. no one in whose presence he can take his glasses off.

and outside of the bentley and his own flat, he no longer has a place to do so either. the bookshop was theirs. with aziraphale gone, is it really a safe place anymore? is it somewhere he can just let himself be knowing he will be looked after and protected?

easy answer: no.

alright, off i go. see y'all on the next angst post or in the tags.

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 8 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: It has been too long since you heard from Bradley. Perhaps something went wrong. Or maybe he was avoiding you. Just when you start trying to accept that the last few months were too good to be true, things start to turn around again.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, language, Bradley being sweet

Length: 3000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Days went by. With only two weeks left of Bradley's deployment, you weren't really expecting to receive air mail at school with your name on it, but you certainly did miss it anyway. Your students asked about him every morning, wondering if he'd sent a new email, hoping for another video with Marty. But you got nothing in either of your email inboxes.

He was on your mind almost constantly. What happened on his mission? Did the Navy decide it was okay to cut off communication right when you were completely attached to hearing from him? Did this really mean you had to wait until the aircraft carrier arrived back in San Diego? 

It was right before your students were due to arrive in your classroom that you had perhaps the most distressing thoughts of all. What if something went terribly wrong and he didn't survive? Or what if this was simply his way of ghosting you before he had to see you in person?

Jayden raced in ahead of the rest of your class, calling your name along the way. "Did Lieutenant Bradshaw write back yet?"

You pointed him toward his desk as you shook your head. "I already explained that he may not have time to respond before his deployment ends."

Jayden just bounced in place in front of you. "Then that means he can visit us when he gets back!"

Now a small group of your kids surrounded you, and you wished more than anything that you could tell them that Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw, their beloved pen pal, would definitely be visiting your classroom in a few short days. Instead you told them, "Please, take your seats so we can start our Natural History lesson."

This turned out to be your new normal. Every time you got an email notification, you jumped to unlock your phone, but it was never a message from Bradley. When you saw a box tucked in your mail cubby in the school office, you ran for it, only to find the science supplies you ordered weeks ago had arrived. You even forced yourself to go back and read some of the old emails from him, just to make sure it all really happened, but his words left you aching for more.

...I like giving Gorgeous teachers butterflies...

...You'd look adorable snuggled up in your bed. But then again, when aren't you completely Gorgeous?...

...Gorgeous girl, you're messing with my head...

...And it's not a matter of if I touch you, it's a matter of when...

After nearly two weeks had gone by, you tried to figure out if the USS Theodore Roosevelt was back in port, but short of driving to North Island to see for yourself, you couldn't seem to find a solid answer online. And if you did drive there and found it at the dock, what were you supposed to do? Contact the US Navy? If they told you that nothing happened to Lieutenant Bradshaw and that he was perfectly fine, you'd be mortified. If they told you something in fact did happen to him in the last two weeks, you'd be devastated. That's assuming you could even get them to give you any information at all which was doubtful.

On Friday, you were on the verge of tears as you got ready for work. "You're being ridiculous," you whispered, and that fact made you want to cry even more. You tried to take the time to make yourself look presentable, thinking that may be the key to having a good day. Your outfit was cute. Your makeup looked nice. But you weren't smiling, and you didn't feel like doing so at all. 

You grabbed your bag, hoping the short ride with your favorite playlist would be enough to get your spirits up, but all you could think about was how you probably weren't cut out for life with a guy in the military anyway. Waiting around like this to see what was going on was making your stomach upset, and you weren't getting enough sleep. When you closed your eyes, you just pictured a very kissable face with a scarred cheek and big brown eyes.

"You need to focus," you scolded as you parked your car and headed into the school with your ID badge. You had eighteen kids who required your attention, and you'd once again give it to them, because you were fantastic at your job. 

This morning, Violet was the first one to mention Bradley in passing, and you had to shake your head. "Please find your seats. If I hear from Lieutenant Bradshaw, I promise I will let you know. I'm not hiding any letters or emails from you all, okay?" You tried to smile as you said, "I'd like to hear from him every bit as badly as you would. I can guarantee that."

You struggled through your morning lessons, often reminding yourself that you needed to focus on your students. Then you sat quietly at your desk with the classroom lights off during lunch, scrolling back through the dozens of emails you'd exchanged with Bradley on your phone. You pulled up the picture of the sun setting behind him in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, and even though you tried, you couldn't find anything other than the most sincere expression on his handsome face.

Maybe he would text you this weekend, letting you know he was back and your date was on. You had to believe he would still contact you. When the bell rang, you counted to ten, and then your students came flooding back through your classroom door. They wanted to tell you all about how Jasper from Mrs. Wynn's class got in trouble during lunch, and you humored them before saying, "I'm sure none of you would misbehave like that in the cafeteria."

"No way!" Henry promised.

"That's what I like to hear," you told him with a forced smile. "Once you're all in your seats, we'll start our math lesson. Maybe I'll put a few aviation problems on the board at the end if you show me how well you can focus for the next twenty minutes."

You had just started copying the first fraction that you wanted to discuss from your notebook onto the board when there was a sharp knock on your classroom door. You sighed and let your forehead rest briefly on the white board, knowing that another disruption would completely derail your kids after all the lunchtime nonsense. When you turned to face the door, they were already starting to chatter with each other. 

"Come in!" you called out, and every head in your room whipped around to see who was there and what they wanted. 

When the door swung open, the room went silent. The first thing you thought about was how peculiar it was to see someone in a khaki military uniform standing there. Then your eyes slid up that tall, muscular frame as your lips parted in surprise. As soon as you met his gaze, he smiled and said, "Hey, Gorgeous."

You couldn't speak. As he took a full step into your classroom and pulled the door closed, you finally noticed he was holding some pretty flowers. Then he was heading your way, his combat boots squeaking ever so slightly against the tile floor with each long stride. Bradley Bradshaw wasn't hesitating at all as he made his way directly to you while your students started talking again.

"It's Lieutenant Bradshaw!"

"I knew he'd come visit us ever since I asked him to!"

"Does this mean his deployment is over?"

"Why does he have flowers?"

He didn't stop until he was standing right in front of you, and the butterflies in your belly were fluttering so much, you were convinced you could float off of the floor. You weren't sure what else to say, so you simply whispered, "Bradley."

His smile grew as he said, "I love the way that sounds when you say it." You could only squeak in response, and his warm gaze flicked from your eyes down to your lips. At this rate you'd be a puddle at his feet in the next ten seconds. He swallowed hard, cheeks flushed as he leaned in closer, taking another small step forward until his boot gently bumped your shoe. His voice took on a raspier edge as said, "You told me you wanted me to kiss you as soon as I saw you."

He didn't stop slowly closing the distance, and when you reached out and let your fingers tangle with his, you whispered, "Please." Then you closed your eyes as his lips brushed feather light against yours. You gasped. He was here. Nothing had ever felt as good as this in your life. You opened your eyes to find him grinning right in front of you, and you chased him for another one of his dreamy kisses.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw kissed her!"

"I think they're in love!"

"They are definitely going to be girlfriend and boyfriend!"

Bradley wrapped his fingers around yours a little tighter as you and he laughed, and he ducked his head before looking up at your class. His cheeks were the most alluring shade of pink as he told them, "Hey, I hope you don't mind that I decided to surprise you and your teacher."

"We don't mind!" shouter Oliver as he was practically sitting on his desk now in excitement. All of the kids were bouncing with anticipation, and you couldn't stop smiling as Violet clapped her hands together.

"Great, because I brought my responses to your last batch of letters, too. I can't thank you enough for being my pen pals for the last few months. You made my time away from home a lot more fun." He turned to look at you before softly adding, "And you made coming back home feel really good."

You wanted to kiss him again. You wanted to run your fingers along his scars and press your lips to his skin in their wake. You wanted to bury your nose against his neck and inhale the smell of his skin and his uniform collar. You wanted to feel his mustache on your lips. Instead, because every eye in the room was on the two of you, you told him, "I'm really happy you're here." You tugged on his hand so he was standing front and center, and you turned to your kids and asked, "What do we say when we have a special guest visit us?"

"Thank you!" they all shouted in unison.

"That's right," you told them. Then you looked up at Bradley, and he handed you the flowers with a crooked little grin, and that's when you noticed he had a small notebook in his hand as well. 

"Can I call each kid up to get their letter?" he asked, as if you would deny him anything at the moment. "Then I can put faces to all of the names."

You were still definitely at risk of melting. "You wrote each of them a personal letter again?" you asked him, holding your flowers to your chest and trying not to swoon.

"Yeah," he replied, opening his notebook to show you. He stood there, looking devastatingly sexy, tearing out a page for every kid. He called each of them up and talked to them for a minute. He remembered the name of Jayden's dog. He remembered that Violet loved neon-colored everything. He remembered that Henry said his grandfather was in the Navy. He remembered so much, and he was so willing to indulge all of their questions.

You just stood there with your flowers and watched this endearing man captivate all nineteen of you with his words. He let Oliver try on one of his insignia pins. He drew a diagram of an aircraft carrier on your white board. He met your gaze more often than not. He smiled at you every time he did. He told your students that the reason they were so smart was because you were such a good teacher. The butterflies were here to stay now.

When you looked around, you noticed that your kids were cherishing their personal notes just like you were your flowers. You didn't want this afternoon to end, and yet, as soon as the first bell rang at three o'clock, you jumped to attention. The sooner your students cleared out of the room for the weekend, the sooner you could hopefully have a few minutes alone with Bradley before he wanted to go home and rest.

"We need to pack up," you announced, finally setting the bouquet down on your desk while Bradly affixed his pin back on his uniform shirt.

"Do we have to?" whined Jayden. "Lieutenant Bradshaw like just got here!"

He had in fact been in your classroom for over two hours, but you couldn't blame them for wanting more. Bradley cleared his throat and looked at you as he said, "I could come back again?" with that sincere gaze you were already weak for. "Spend a few more hours answering questions? Maybe bring some engine parts with me?"

You bit your lip before you could whimper out loud, and he started to head in your direction. "We would love that," you told him.

"Yeah?" he asked you as your kids erupted into a rowdy mob, grabbing all of their belongings as the final bell rang.

"Mmhmm," you hummed, waving lazily to your students as they shouted their goodbyes to both you and Bradley. His steps had him reaching you right as the last few kids left your room, and you whispered, "You'll come back?"

He reached for your hand as he said, "I'll do anything you want, Gorgeous." He must have been able to read the needy look on your face, because when you tugged on his hand, he came all the way to you. His other hand ended up at your waist as his lips found yours, and this time, the feather light kisses deepened as you parted your lips. Bradley groaned softly, kissing you just right, and then he whispered, "I've been dying for this."

Your arms went around his neck, kissing him a little frantically, melting at his touch and the feel of his soft, wavy hair between your fingers. "Me too," you told him before pulling his bottom lip gently between yours. He backed you up until you bumped into your desk, and all you could think about was how good his weight would feel on top of you.

Your skin felt too hot when he finally broke the kiss, panting softly as you ran your thumb along his scars. "I didn't like not hearing from you the past two weeks," you told him, and his brown eyes softened even as his hold on you tightened a little bit. "It was... kind of scary."

"I didn't like it either," he told you. "And I was going to text you immediately when we docked this morning, but then I decided to just come here instead." He grinned as your fingers crept back up into his hair. "If they didn't let me sign in with my military ID in the front office, I don't know what I would have done. I just wanted to see you."

You kissed his chin and said, "Usually I hate surprises. But this one was perfect."

"Okay, see, that's good information to know," he rasped. "I only got a ride home long enough to throw my duffle in the front door and hop in my Bronco. I stopped for the flowers, and then I just wanted to get here with my notebook."

You tipped your head back and whispered, "How am I supposed to deal with how sweet you are?"

"Oh! That reminds me," he muttered, rubbing his hand along your back before releasing you and strolling over to where he left his notebook on Oliver's desk. The way your body wanted you to follow him was surprising, but it gave you a chance to look at him again from head to toe as you stood next to your desk. There was nothing out of place on this man, and you pressed your lips together as his bicep flexed against his shirt sleeve. He tore another sheet of paper from his notebook and said, "I have one more note to deliver."

He walked back over to you, and when he held it up with a hopeful look, you took it from him and read.

Hey, Gorgeous. I couldn't wait one more minute to see you. And now that I'm here, I don't want today to end. Is there any way I can convince you to let me take you out for our first official date tonight instead of tomorrow? Bradley

When you looked up from the page, his eyebrows were raised, and that crooked little grin was hovering close to the surface. "I know I said to plan for tomorrow, but I can't fucking wait that long."

You bit down on your lip, shocked by how much better today turned out to be than you could have ever imagined earlier this morning. "Yeah. You've convinced me, Bradley. Tonight sounds perfect."

With that, you were treated to a little smirk beneath his mustache. He carefully took the sheet of notebook paper from your hands, set it down next to the flowers on your desk and proceeded to kiss you senseless.

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

He's going to make me hyperventilate. Those kids were SO excited to have him in their classroom, but they were nowhere near as excited as Gorgeous! He's home! And he wants to have his beach picnic and takeout and makeout sesh immediately. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 9

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[dronningreid]

Between letters.

When reader has been acting weird lately, Reid thinks she's going to break up with him but she's actually terrified because she has to give him some life-changing news.

who? Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

category: angst/fluff

warnings: Reid is hopeless, reader is a little mean because she doesn't know how to deal with the stress of her secret. Both must work on their communication. English is not my first language (if i forget something let me know, this is my first time doing this)

word count: 2.6K

a/n: Hello! Thank you to everyone who took the time to read what i wrote with so much love. I have written books, stories, poems but never a fanfic and i must admit that i enjoyed this a lot. Well, without further ado i hope you enjoy this and let me know if you liked it.

It is said that we should wait for good things. But it is so difficult to wait for them when we find ourselves in such a deep abyss, where we believe that the only thing we need is that warm ray of joy to get us out of the pond, to save us from dying in agony.

Spencer needed that warm ray of joy after Maeve's death. He desperately needed to feel alive again, but he had to wait what seemed like an eternity for you to come into his life.

Yet every devastating event like that leaves wounds that bleed into scars, some take perhaps too long and as the blood pours out, it destroys hope.

That's what happened to Reid. Because the day Maeve died, his hopes of having a wife and children, of having a family, died with her…

You came along a couple of years later. You admit that winning Spencer over was something that took time, it was slow but it was worth every second.

You were also thankful that he wasn't like the other jerks you dated before, who thought you would die for them just because you were the one who made the first move.

And that was the difference between you and Spencer. You never let that get you down, you kept trying until you found the one. Who knew it would be someone with three PhDs? Your trusted tarot reader, duh. But you didn't believe it, the guy seemed too perfect to be real.

But there he was, spinning around in his swivel chair when you first walked into the BAU bullpen.

"Who is he?" you asked with a curiosity you hadn't experienced in years.

"Oh, that's Spencer. One of our resident geniuses." The sweet Penelope Garcia cleared up your doubts.

Spencer.

The name tasted so sweet on your lips, it sounded so right. That was the day you decided he would be for you.

Of course you needed some extra help. You were trying to win over someone who hadn't dated in a long time and was also a bit reserved. Luckily for you, Morgan's advice scared him off so you followed JJ's, although it also helped that he was definitely mhm curious? about you.

Well no, he actually thought you were a little crazy for staring at him so intently from a distance. And he thought you were weird, but he was too so it just made both fit together like puzzle pieces.

The relationship seemed to be going great, both loved each other and he couldn't imagine his life without you. But if Spencer Reid had learned something in his life, it was that happiness lasts much less time than pain.

You were acting a little weird around him lately, you were irritable and he definitely knew you were hiding something.

"I think she's going to break up with me." One day he decided to confess his feelings to Morgan, when they were alone in the conference room.

Morgan frowned and dropped the current case file onto the table. “You’re kidding, right?” But with no response, Morgan knew otherwise. "Reid. She loves you so much it makes me a little sick.”

Reid remained with his worried expression. "She's slow to respond to my texts, she avoids me, and there's definitely something she's not telling me.” He counted your recent actions on his fingers before crossing his arms.

Morgan raised an eyebrow. "Don't tell me you're profiling her."

Reid frowned. "What? Of course not." Yeah, that means of course yes.

Morgan shrugged. "Just talk to her or ask the girls, they should know something." This time he gave some good advice, not like the ones he used to give you.

Reid did as Morgan told him, but absolutely no one knew what was going on with you. Although everyone agreed that you were definitely hiding something.

You took a sip of coffee. "I watched that movie last night. People said it was really funny but I found it boring, although I admit the plot twist made me cry.” Yes, lately many things made you cry and it wasn't because of your moon in Pisces.

Anderson nodded. "Exactly! I couldn't even finish watching. I fell asleep."

“Anderson, would you excuse us for a minute?" Reid's appearance was a surprise, his insistence on talking to you wasn't.

"Of course, see you later." Then once Anderson left, Reid stood in front of you.

"What's wrong?" He got straight to the point, not like the previous times.

"Me? Nothing's wrong, I'm perfectly fine." But the drumming of your fingers on your coffee glass gave you away.

"Oh, of course." He crossed his arms, oh no, it seems his infinite patience turned out to be finite.

You immediately took a defensive stance. "Yes. I was perfectly fine before you came to interrupt my conversation with Anderson."

"About movies?" He didn't say it, but you knew he thought it was a nonsense, at least now that he was definitely irritated.

“Yes!" Your outburst earned you a few glances from the other agents. But both were too wrapped up in the tense conversation to deal with them.

"Sure, you have time to talk to other people about movies, but you don't even say a damn good morning to me.” You had to be careful what you said, you were in unfamiliar territory now, as Reid didn't usually swear.

"You're overreacting." Yeah... That probably wasn't the most brilliant thing you've ever said, but you were trying not to give away your secret, at least not yet.

“Overacting?” He was offended by your words. “You talk to everyone in the building except me. You used to spend as much time with me as possible, did I do something wrong?” A hint of fear and insecurity crept into his annoyed tone.

You shook your head. “Of course not.”

He put his hand on your shoulder. “Then tell me what’s wrong.” His tone was firm, but not harsh. Although it was obvious that he wasn't making a request of you.

"Spencer, I already told you that nothing is wrong with me." You emphasized the nothing.

He exhaled in frustration, he was 90% sure that this would work. "Fine! Then don't tell me anything." His patience had run out and he wasn't going to beg you anymore. It had been a week like this and he couldn't take it anymore, so he let go of your shoulder and walked away without even looking at you or giving you a sweet kiss on the cheek.

∗⋅✧⋅∗

Everything was dark, you reached for the light switch and then the spotlight illuminated your apartment. It was a less warm space without Spencer there.

You sighed before throwing your bag on the couch and closed the door.

You stood there for a couple of minutes staring at the lonely space. Well since you became Spencer Reid's girlfriend there weren't many lonely nights, mornings or afternoons.

You would definitely prefer him to be here right now, rambling or mumbling a foreign language movie to you. But for now you had to keep your secret, and that meant keeping Reid away.

The growl of your stomach snapped you out of your mind, so you headed straight for the fridge. But the smell of something made you nauseous, so you immediately ran to the bathroom to empty the contents of your stomach on the toilet.

Yes. You had to hurry to sweeten this horrible memory with a concerned Spencer who would hold your hair and rub your back while you threw up.

After dinner and take a warm shower, you were tired enough to do anything else, so you settled into bed to sleep. But your brain had other plans…

"You look... not very awake." Tara commented as soon as you dropped your coat on the back of your chair.

"I only slept three damn hours," you nearly growled before throwing yourself into the chair and running your hands over your face. You needed a liter of coffee.

Tara stopped typing on her computer and looked at you. "Is this something to do with your strange behavior the last week?" When she got no response, she said your name seriously.

You pulled your hands away from your face. “I…” you began to fiddle with the rings on your fingers, the burden of unspoken words beginning to weigh on your shoulders. "God, why does everyone suddenly care about my fucking life?" You opted for annoyance as the perfect disguise for your vulnerability.

"Hey. None of us want to bother you, but we care about your life because we are your friends and we love you." Tara used a serious tone, like a scolding, but there was genuine affection behind her words. "Besides, Reid is suffering because of your attitude."

A pang of guilt hit your chest. “I don’t want to hurt him.” You whispered.

“I know.” She walked over to your desk. “But you’re hurting him, even if you don’t mean to.”

You swallowed before looking up. "It's just that there's something..." You took a deep breath, this was harder than you thought. "Things are changing, things are definitely going to change if I say this, it's going to be real and I don't know how to feel about it. I need someone to tell me what to do, because I feel so lost."

Tara placed one of her hands over yours. "Well, if I'm going to help you, I need you to tell me what's wrong." Her voice was warm.

"I want Spencer to know first." But your half-hearted answer was enough for her to know.

"In that case you should tell him, because none of his PhDs include mind reading." She made a little joke that actually made you smile.

"Yeah, I know. He'll probably solve everything out like he always does." Then you looked straight at his empty desk, at the nameplate: Spencer Reid. "But I want to give him a surprise, something that will make him happy. I can't just walk up and say hey…” Then you forced yourself to close your mouth when you realized you were going to say more than necessary, although in reality Tara already had her suspicions.

"Okay, I'll help you." She sounded very determined and you really appreciated her help and that she wouldn't question you as much as the others.

∗⋅✧⋅∗

You spun around in your chair and then had an epiphany, but not like the Taylor Swift song. "Crossword!" Your excitement got you the looks of several agents in the bullpen, luckily one of them was Tara.

"With a secret message?"

"Yes. It's literally the best way." You said excitedly.

But in your mind everything was easier than it really was.

You ruffled your hair as you forced yourself to think more, giving you a splitting headache. "When did I think this would be a good idea? Doing a crossword puzzle for the average person is easy, but not for a genius with an IQ of 187." You dropped your head onto your desk.

"You need help."

"But who's as smart as Spencer?" You muttered defeated, still with your head hidden between your arms and the wood of the desk.

Someone ruffled your hair. “Mhm. Tesla? Einstein?”

You immediately raised your head, only to see the famous Derek Morgan. “They’re dead.” You snorted.

Morgan raised his hands in peace. "Hey, what's the bad mood, baby girl? I just answered your question." He let out one of his signature laughs.

You rolled your eyes. You wished you could turn off some damn switch that was responsible for making you so easily angry. God, WHY? You were starting to get desperate.

"Blake!" Another epiphany, you were really on top of it. You didn't even explain it to Tara, you just ran to the parking lot to get your phone which you had forgotten in the car.

Alex Blake was happy to help you put together a crossword puzzle for Spencer. Although she warned you that he once solved one in about five minutes.

Yeah, well, you were going to take the risk.

Once the crossword puzzle with the secret message was ready, you set out to find Reid.

As you were leaving Garcia's office he was getting out of the elevator, but he didn't even notice you. He continued on his way and god, why did he look so attractive?

"Spencer." You caught up to him as he walked up the stairs.

"Not now, I'm busy." He replied with a seriousness not typical of him.

"With what?" You frowned.

"I said I'm busy." I didn't even look at you as he continued walking to the conference room.

You called out to him, but he ignored you. “We need to talk.” You said seriously, raising your voice.

He stopped in his tracks immediately, freezing halfway. He had never experienced anything like this before, but he knew well what we need to talk meant.

He turned to look at you, with an expression that betrayed nothing of what he truly felt. "I said I'm busy, we'll talk later." That didn't convince you. “I have to do a geographic profile and you have to work on victimology like Hotch asked you to.”

The end was near? You were beginning to doubt and he was very sure, only that he would delay it as much as he could.

∗⋅✧⋅∗

You were about to give up, but you really needed him to know. So you resorted to plan B.

"Derek Morgan, my favorite person in the world." You appeared in front of him, with a big smile.

Morgan let out a light laugh. "Yeah sure, what can I do for you, gorgeous?"

"I think Spencer is upset with me."

"He definitely is." He said it without hesitation and it definitely didn't help the state of your aching heart.

"Okay..." You handed him the crossword puzzle. "Could you please give him this for me?"

He picked up the crossword puzzle. "If you think he's going to forgive you for avoiding him for a week just by giving him a crossword puzzle that he'll finish in two seconds, you might be right."

"Just give it to her, okay?"

"Of course. But in exchange for Penelope being the godmother.”

You immediately frowned, but you reacted a little late because Morgan had already left to deliver your order.

From your desk you watched everything. From how Morgan entered the conference room to give Spencer the crossword puzzle to how the bastard answered it in five minutes. When it took you like three hours to do.

But the best part was when he realized the secret message and ran out of the conference room.

But when he saw you, his quickened steps took on a much, much slower pace.

"Tell me what's true." His low tone sounded like a plea.

A slight smile appeared on your face. "Yeah. That's why I've been acting weird, you know I can't keep secre-"

Your words were cut off when his lips met yours. In a kiss so sweet and soft that it was enough to dispel every single one of your doubts.

A few seconds later, he pulled away from the kiss, leaving you wanting more.

He caressed your cheek with his thumb. "You didn't have to do a crossword puzzle to tell me you were pregnant."

"I wanted to surprise you." You whispered.

A smile that could light up this whole town formed on his lips. "I love you so much." He then kissed you warmly again.

🏷️ @floraisunwell

And so it was that the foundations that had crumbled with Maeve's death slowly re-emerged. They began to build themselves again with your arrival and now with this news, their foundations were stronger than ever, because at last he was going to have the family he had dreamed of for a tortuous time.

[punkshort]

Swept Away | Chapter 10: Turn the Tide

Pairing: sugardaddy!Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: A devastating discovery leads you back into Joel's arms. But do you both have what it takes to make it work?

Chapter Warnings: language, sugar baby/daddy dynamics, mountains of angst, miscarriage (discussions and descriptions included, not terribly graphic, blood is mentioned, please skip if this is triggering for you), hurt/comfort, fluff, brief mention of vomit, anxiety, reader has long-ish hair, smut (18+ MDNI), fingering, protected piv sex, secrets are revealed and explain some underlying anxieties/trust issues

WC: 16.6K

Series Masterlist

One Month Later

"Jesus Christ, this place is doing a number on my allergies," Celine whined when she opened your apartment door to find you curled up on your couch with a heating pad. She looked around the room and shook her head, dropping her purse and keys on your floor because every single flat surface was being taken up by flowers. Flowers Joel had been sending you every fucking day since he dropped you off. "How can you stand it in here?"

"I can't," you muttered, staring listlessly at the television while she opened up the windows as far as they would go. "Been meaning to look into places where I could donate them but I'm in the middle of the worst period of my fucking life."

"Yeah, I can see that," she replied before collapsing in a huff on the other end of your couch. Her eyes skimmed your coffee table, filled with pain killers, water and tea before she asked, "Have you eaten?"

You nodded and pointed to the empty bowl under the table. "I heated up some soup."

"Maybe you should call your doctor, are your periods usually this bad?" she asked before picking up the dirty dishes and heading to your sink.

"No," you groaned, rolling onto your back with a wince. "I'm on the pill. They're usually a breeze."

"Then you should definitely call," she said over her shoulder. "Can't hurt to get checked out."

"Yeah? With what health insurance?" you countered angrily as you forced yourself to sit up.

"Still no luck finding a job?"

You shook your head then sneezed, scowling at the roses nearby like it was their fault.

"Then use some of the fifty fucking thousand dollars he gave you and see a goddamn doctor!" she exclaimed after drying your bowl and putting it away. "I know you don't want to use it but it doesn't matter, he won't know either way."

Fifty grand. He had wired you fifty grand instead of twenty. You spent a week going back and forth with your bank, making them reject the funds over and over until you finally caved because you couldn't stand to waste any more time on the phone with them over it. You had decided you would donate it like he suggested, but you never figured out where. Between that and all the flowers he kept sending, you couldn't decide if you should be flattered or pissed off.

On that particular day, with your uterus trying to extract itself from your body, you chose to be pissed off.

As if on cue, your buzzer rang and you could have screamed at the top of your lungs, already knowing who it was. Celine got to the intercom first and pressed the button.

"Yeah?"

"Hey, it's Jim, got today's flowers."

You grabbed a pillow and screamed into it, deciding to give into your urge.

"Alright, buzzing you up."

You heard her press the other button and hold it a few seconds before unlocking your door and leaving it cracked.

"He's in love with you," she said matter-of-factly from the door.

"I'm going to fucking kill him," you replied, making her laugh.

A light tap on the door came a few minutes later and Celine pushed it open to greet Jim, an older man with a white beard that reminded you of Santa, before she signed for the flowers.

"Jim, don't you have someone you could give these to instead?" you asked from the couch. He shook his head and grinned before handing over the vase of peonies, dahlias and roses.

"You know I can't do that."

You made a face and collapsed into the back of your couch.

"Maybe if you just call him, it'll end," Jim offered, "although I don't mind. You're keeping the shop afloat at this point," he joked.

"That's exactly what he wants," you replied. He shrugged and gave you a wave with a see you tomorrow, then disappeared down the hall. Celine closed the door and looked around the room for a clear spot before giving up and setting them on the ground.

"Maybe flower guy was right. Maybe you should call him."

"He's just used to getting his way. He can pull this shit with anyone else but I'm not gonna give in," you told her while simultaneously picking up your phone, fingers tapping angrily at your screen. She grinned and found her spot back on the couch.

"What are you doing?"

"Texting Joel and telling him to knock it the fuck off," you growled.

Celine tipped her head back and laughed. "Same thing! You're talking to him! You're giving him exactly what he wants."

"Okay, so I'm not perfect! What else is new?" you snapped after shooting off a text to Joel that said stop with the fucking flowers, I mean it.

Before Celine could reply, your phone vibrated in your lap.

Does this mean you're willing to see me? Or should I switch to chocolate?

You frowned and Celine knowingly tilted her head to the side.

"Girl. Come on. Hear him out. Maybe if you just meet up once and let him talk, he'll stop. I've never seen a guy text back as quickly as him, and he's got an actual successful business to run! Do you have a magic pussy or something, what the hell did you do to this guy?"

You cracked a smile for the first time in days. You didn't go into much detail with her since you came back. She knew you slept together and she knew he broke your heart, but everything else remained a mystery. And because she knew you would tell her in your own time, she never asked.

"I just think he's not used to hearing the word no," you told her, ignoring his text and setting your phone down on your coffee table.

"Or he's madly in love with you and doesn't know how to handle it," she countered with a raised eyebrow.

You opened your mouth to object, to remind her for the fourth time that Joel didn't fall in love with anyone, when a sharp pain shot through your legs and you doubled over with a deep groan. Celine lunged forward to rub your upper back, her smile long gone when she saw how you badly you were struggling.

"That's it. I'm calling your doctor," she said, snatching your phone from the table to scroll through your contacts.

You took a deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth, not bothering to stop her when she dialed the phone.

You sat on the exam table, a loud and irritating white piece of paper separating your thighs from the padding as your doctor sat before you, gently explaining what was happening while a low ringing began to echo in your head.

Miscarriage... hCG levels... four or five weeks... bleeding will end soon.

You just sat there in complete shock, a dumbstruck look on your face as she continued to explain it was nothing you did or didn't do, that it's extremely common, that you would likely go on to have a perfectly healthy pregnancy if you wanted. Then she said your name softly and your eyes refocused onto her bright blue ones behind her wire rimmed glasses.

"Do you have any questions?" she asked with a comforting hand on your knee.

Those glasses didn't suit her face at all, they were too round. Why didn't anyone ever tell her?

"Uh," you croaked before clearing your throat. "I'm... I'm on the pill. How did this happen?"

"It's ninety nine percent effective but it's lower if you skip days or forget to take them at the same time. Did that happen last month at all?"

Last month. When you were on the island with Joel. It felt like a lifetime ago.

"Um, well, I was in Fiji last month," you began, fingers twisting anxiously in your lap. You still only had a pink paper gown to cover you after your exam. You felt so exposed and raw that your skin hurt.

"Did you account for the time change?" she asked. Your eyes fluttered shut and you dropped your chin to your chest.

"No." How stupid. Why didn't that occur to you? "I might have forgotten a day here and there, too. There was one weekend we were away and I forgot-" you stopped yourself and pinched the bridge of your nose. "Doesn't matter, I guess."

She patted your knee again and gave it a little squeeze.

"It's alright, you're going to be okay," she assured you. You nodded and swallowed thickly before looking back up.

"I know. I just... I thought if this ever happened..." you trailed off as you struggled to find the right words. "I thought I'd feel..." you couldn't finish your sentence but she seemed to understand anyway.

"It's completely normal. You didn't even know until it was already over. You're probably just in shock, it's a lot to take in," she said before kicking off the floor so her stool would roll over to the wall that held various pamphlets. She plucked a few from the hard plastic holders and held them out to you. "These will help explain more of what you're going through, but if you have any questions or if you're finding you need a little extra help to get through this, please give the office a call. We have a twenty four hour service, they'll connect me with you, day or night."

You thanked her softly and stared blankly at the pamphlets while she gathered her things before slipping out of the room, giving you some privacy to get dressed.

It was surreal, driving back home, burdened with this brand new knowledge, this thing you had no idea how to process. Shouldn't you be sad? Shouldn't you grieve the loss in some way? Maybe your doctor was right. Maybe you were in shock.

As you walked up to your building, a familiar olive green truck rumbled up to the curb, tapping out a light beep in greeting and shaking you out of your funk.

"Oh, hey," you said, smiling weakly at Jim when he jumped out with a wave.

"Good timing," he replied before climbing into the back of the truck to hand you a teddy bear with a little rose pinned to its chest. "He's switching it up," Jim said, smile falling when he saw the look on your face. "Hey, everything okay?"

You nodded quickly and reached for the pen to scribble your name. "Yeah, sorry, just tired."

He pressed his lips into a thin line before taking the pen back and giving you one last look.

"Well, get some rest, yeah? Need some help getting up to your place?"

"No, thank you, I'm good," you told him sincerely, then gave him a little wave before heading up the stairs to your building. He called out his usual see you tomorrow and you forced a smile before disappearing inside.

You supposed it was good you hadn't found a job yet. At least you could waste away in your bed until this strange feeling passed and you could process everything.

After you changed back into comfortable clothes with the plan to find some shitty movie to zone out to, you heard your doorbell buzz. With a confused frown, you shuffled back out into the living room, wondering who it could be. Jim had already dropped off Joel's daily gift and Celine had a key.

For one stupid, foolish moment you thought it might be Joel. Like he had somehow, from across the city and with absolutely no knowledge as to what was going on, found out about the miscarriage and came to scoop you into his arms and tell you everything would be okay.

The mere thought caused tears to sting your eyes and you quickly blinked them away, chalking it up to hormonal changes and the emotional morning.

"Yes?" you called weakly through the speaker.

A man's voice replied with your name posed as a question, followed by got a delivery here for you.

You buzzed him in and curiously craned your neck out into your hall, chewing your lower lip until the elevator dinged and a man dressed in an all brown uniform emerged carrying a large, flat, square package.

When he approached, he confirmed your name again before handing you something to sign, which you did blindly as your focus was still on the box at his feet.

"Where's it from?" you asked, stepping to the side so he could set it against your wall.

"Uh..." he trailed off, distracted momentarily by all the flowers, and then squinted at the paper you just signed. "Fiji Islands. That's pretty rad. Hope it's a vacation," he joked before tucking the clipboard under his arm and exiting back out into the hallway.

It took about ten seconds after he left for you to realize what it was, yet you still shakily opened the box, your palm cupping your mouth when the bubble wrap fell to the floor and Ellie's painting sat before you. You crumpled to the ground and squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block out the memories of pink seashells and stolen kisses and warm brown eyes and whispers of my girl. But it was staring you in the face. The painting that spoke to you before you even understood what it was saying, the painting Joel bought for you without a second thought, before you slept together, before it all fell apart.

Hot tears trickled down your face when you fumbled for your phone, your thumb hovering over the call button next to his name.

Just do it. Just call him. You wanted to hear his voice. You wanted him to hold you close and tell you it wasn't your fault. You wanted him to stay with you until the blood and the agony passed and everything from the past few hours became a horrible, distant memory.

Perhaps the shock was beginning to wear off.

At the last second, you scrolled up and tapped Celine's name instead. When she heard the broken sound of your voice, she dropped what she was doing to rush over, not even asking for details until you had stopped crying on her shoulder. You told her about your appointment. About the painting. About the seashells. About Brooks. About everything until your voice was raw and your face felt swollen and hot from crying.

She tucked you into bed and laid curled up next to you. She softly told you about her own miscarriage she had when she was nineteen. She told you the pain would go away, that the void inside would eventually fill again. But halfway through some movie she had found that mostly served as background noise, she turned to you and said the words you needed to hear. Like you were waiting for someone else's permission to give in.

"You gotta tell him, babe."

You couldn't even remember how you got there, standing in front of his hotel five days later, body now mostly recovered and fueled by caffeine from the shop three blocks away. It felt like you were drawn to him, like you weren't even making your own decisions, telling yourself you were just going to take a short walk to enjoy the weather and clear your head after downing an iced coffee.

Certainly if you had known you would have been walking through the doors of his lobby, giving the same man from that first day in the same pristine black suit a nervous smile before making your way across the room, sneakers squeaking on the floor as you walked, you would have prepared a little better.

It was quiet. The concierge looked bored and tapped her pen on a pad of paper, chin resting in her fist as she pretended to work. Elevator cars silently whirred up and down on both sides of you, the glass walls allowing you a sneak peek at guests going up to their rooms.

You cleared your throat when you approached reception, your mouth opening to give them your name when a man's surprised voice said it for you.

Swiveling around, you locked eyes with a dark haired man wearing thick rimmed glasses and a black bow tie over his tight fitting white shirt and tailored pants. You gave him a small smile, but your confusion must have been obvious because he blinked and shook his head before stepping forward and offering you his hand.

"I'm Liam," he began, "Joel's assistant."

"Oh!" you exclaimed, shaking his hand while the gears slowly turned in your head. "Oh, so you're the one who bought all the clothes and stuff."

Liam grinned and nodded, dropping your hand so he could wrap both arms around the pad-folio pressed to his chest.

"I had pictures to work with when I was choosing colors. You know, so I could best compliment your hair and skin tone. I hope you liked everything."

"Yes! Oh, yes, everything was beautiful, thank you so much," you said hurriedly, then lowered your voice when you realized you were echoing. "Uh, is he in?"

Liam's shoulders sagged and he rolled his eyes dramatically.

"Yes, thank god," he breathed, waving you over to an elevator and pressing the button. "I was afraid you were just here picking something up. I'm so glad you want to see him, he's been -"

You frowned when Liam seemed to realize he was saying too much and he cut himself off, lips pursing as he stared at the unopened elevator.

"What?"

Liam shook his head and shrugged right when the doors slid open. He beckoned for you to enter first before following, pressing the pad of his finger into a scanner and tapping a button. Only when the doors shut did he turn back to you.

"He's been worse than usual. I think he's upset about whatever happened," he explained, then waved his hands in the air and added, "I mean, he didn't tell me anything, but I'm assuming something happened because he's picking out flowers every single morning and asking me to have them delivered."

"He's been picking them out?" you repeated.

Liam just nodded. "It's none of my business, but he's never had me do this for anyone before. And I've worked for him for ten years," he said dramatically, raising his thick eyebrows at you knowingly.

"Oh," you said softly, dropping your gaze to the floor.

The elevator chimed and the doors slid open, leading you out into the same hallway you walked down over two months ago when you first met. Butterflies instantly bloomed in your stomach as you followed behind Liam, keeping your gaze low while you tried to regulate your breathing. You had no idea how you were going to tell him, no rehearsed speech, nothing.

"He's in a meeting right now, but it'll be over in," Liam glanced at his watch, "twenty minutes. I'll take you to his office and let him know you're here when he's done."

You nodded and turned the corner, Joel's office already in view when you walked by the executive conference room. It looked the same as it did in your memory, the wall that bordered the hallway made of glass and inside, a long table with high back leather chairs. Only this time, people were inside having what appeared to be a very important meeting. Men and women in suits filled the table. Papers, mugs of coffee and laptops were scattered everywhere. The flat screen televisions projected extremely big numbers connected to various cities, presumably the locations of The Parador, but what made you stumble was seeing Joel at the head of the table.

His black tie was loosened around his neck, suit coat draped over the back of his chair as he stared at the screen, then his phone, gaze bouncing back and forth while next to him, a sweaty looking man gripping a laptop with one flat, shaky hand, spoke about the numbers.

You unconsciously slowed, unable to tear your eyes away when Joel stood up. His gaze was pinned to something on his phone, which now rested on the table. He was still listening to the man on his left but the more he spoke, the angrier Joel looked. You saw his nostrils flare and his jaw set while he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, the irritation rolling off his tight shoulders until he finally snapped.

Their voices were muffled, but you probably wouldn't have been able to understand what they were talking about, anyway. Joel's brows were knit together, lips curled into a sneer as he spoke loudly enough to the group for you to hear the deep timber of his voice from where you stood in the hall.

Liam didn't say a word, allowing you to come to a standstill and watch Joel with a sly smirk from a few feet away.

You couldn't explain the feeling you had as you watched him, never before seeing him at work with your own two eyes. You knew he was important, obviously, but there was just something about the way he commanded the room, the way full grown men practically cowered when he began to pace around, his finger pointing at the sweaty man and then the screen. It made your heart race and your lips part as your breathing grew shallow, like you were in a trance.

And then Joel spun around, his eyes locking on yours through the glass like he suddenly sensed your presence, and the room went silent. His back instantly straightened and his brows relaxed and then a moment later he was storming towards the glass door.

"Joel?" you heard one of the men at the table call out when the door flung open.

"We're done, meeting's over," he tossed back over his shoulder. If you could have looked away from him, you would have seen the relieved look on all their faces as they began to hastily gather their things.

He stalked up to you, slowing to a stop when he was a couple feet away, then scanned you up and down, like he couldn't believe his eyes.

Neither of you spoke. You just stared at one another, hearts thundering wildly in your chests.

"Hey," he finally breathed, afraid if he spoke any louder he might scare you off.

"Hi," you replied timidly. Your gaze flickered around to Liam, to other people pretending to work within earshot, and to the people filing out of the conference room before meeting his eye again.

He finally snapped out of it and held out an arm, ushering you towards the direction of his office.

"C'mon," was all he said, and you quickly scurried down the hall with Joel hot on your heels.

"Can I get you anything? Coffee, water, tea?" Liam called. You could hear the smile in his voice before you turned around and said, "Water would be nice."

"I got water in here," Joel said gruffly, his hand gently grazing your lower back. He turned around to Liam and said, "No interruptions," before closing the door behind you both.

You looked around his office, everything just how you remembered it. Massive mahogany desk, dark green couch and chair near the well stocked bar, the entire room surrounded by bookshelves, awards, and various decor items, but no picture frames. How didn't you notice that before?

"Have a seat," Joel said, sliding past to get you ice water from the bar. You sunk down into the green couch, feeling just as nervous as the last time you were there.

"Thank you," you said when he placed the glass on a coaster. He nodded and seemed to take a moment before deciding to sit in the chair, giving you your space.

"I'm glad you came," he said, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. Your eyes dropped to your shoes. Your dirty sneakers pressing into his expensive carpet and your frayed jeans... you couldn't even remember the last time they were washed.

"Yeah," you replied, voice sounding nothing like your own. You reached for your water and took a sip before carefully setting it down, fearful of even one drop landing on the rug or table. "I'm sorry. You were in a meeting, I would have waited."

"Fuck 'em," he said, and your eyes rose to find his. God, they looked so soft and kind, the way the sunlight hit them took your breath away. "Would rather talk to you than any of 'em," he added with a little smile.

"I got the painting," you told him. "It's beautiful, thank you," you added warmly, then frowned a bit when he excitedly stood to hurry behind his desk.

"That reminds me, I got somethin' else for you."

"Oh, Joel, please don't tell me it's more flowers," you begged, and he laughed lightly before bringing over a small black shopping bag. There was a designer label stamped on the side and you frowned.

"It ain't that - just open it," he insisted, handing you the bag before sitting back down on the edge of his seat.

Hesitantly, you peered inside, and what awaited you tore your heart in two.

"Joel..."

He smiled. He couldn't help himself.

"Was gonna leave it by your door or somethin' later," he said, his brown eyes sparkling as you lifted one of many pink seashells out of the bag to get a closer look.

"When did you -"

"Had to go back for a couple days and sign some paperwork," he explained. Your eyebrows pulled together and tears welled in your eyes as you stared down at the beautiful seashells he had collected, all for you.

"Thank you," you whispered, gingerly setting it back into the bag and placing it at your feet.

"You're welcome," he replied, his soft tone matching yours.

Alright. It was now or never.

You took a deep breath, rubbing your palms anxiously over the tops of your thighs, but before you could get a word out, he spoke again.

"I wanna tell you everythin'," he said. All the air left your lungs and you swallowed tightly. "I mean it. I'll tell you everythin', and not 'cause you want me to, 'cause I want to. I've been doin' alotta thinkin', and -"

"Joel," you interrupted. He scratched his eyebrow with his thumb and shook his head.

"Just hear me out."

"No, Joel, I need to tell you something," you said. He must have heard something change in your voice because he stopped talking. He searched your face for any indication of what was to come, but of course came up empty.

"Okay," he said slowly. He watched your fingers fidget nervously in your lap and suddenly you couldn't make eye contact with him anymore.

"I don't really know how to say this," you began.

Oh fuck, you've met someone else, was his first thought.

"I, uh," then you squeezed your eyes shut and pressed your lips into a tight line and panic seized his throat.

Something was wrong.

"It's okay," he said soothingly. He tried to inch forward but if he moved any more he would fall off the damn chair. "Go ahead, darlin'. What's goin' on?"

One single tear slid down your cheek and he swore he stopped breathing when you said the words I had a miscarriage.

"What?" he whispered, pain and confusion clouding his face.

You opened your eyes and forced yourself to look at him.

"I had a miscarriage and I just thought you had a right to know."

Your voice trembled and cracked as you forced the words out and he couldn't hold back any longer. He stood and rushed to your side, just like you always knew he would, just like you wanted. He enveloped you in his arms and pressed his lips against the top of your head. He rocked you back and forth, strong arms curled around your midsection, and you melted. You melted into him and didn't even try to fight it. For the past week, hell, for the past month, it was all you wanted.

"When?" he choked out. You circled your arms around him and your legs were suddenly pulled across his lap. He smelled so good, like that cologne you never could identify but was so distinctly him. You dragged in a deep breath, unaware of the tears streaming down your cheeks.

"About a week ago."

Joel's grip around you tightened.

"You shoulda called me, baby. I woulda been there."

"I know," you sniffled. You rubbed the back of your hand under your nose and tried to breathe deep. "I know. But I didn't know it even happened until I went to the doctor."

You told him the whole story. Told him how you thought it was a bad period, how Celine called your doctor, how she explained what likely happened and that it was your own stupid fucking fault for messing up your pill.

"It ain't your fault," he told you, his voice reverberating in his chest. You closed your eyes and leaned into him, fingers grappling at the fabric of his shirt.

"You're not mad?" you whimpered.

"Baby, please," he begged, "'Course I ain't mad. Don't go carryin' this 'round. Don't carry that guilt. If it was meant to be, it would be, alright?"

Your tears flowed, then, unstoppable as they barreled down your cheeks. Your sobs could probably be heard from the other side of the door but you didn't care. Joel continued to hold you, cradle you, and hum soothingly against the top of your head until your tears slowed and your breath grew ragged.

"Are you okay?" he asked after you quieted down. His hand was flat against your back, rubbing wide circles as you continued to cling to him.

"Yeah, I think so," you said truthfully. "I just didn't expect it and then with the hormone change, it all kind of hit me at once, you know?"

"Yeah," he answered, "yeah, I get it. Is there anythin' I can do? Anythin' you need?"

You shook your head, biting down hard on your lip so you didn't say I just need you.

It seemed as though maybe he read your mind, or maybe he really had been giving things alot of thought because the next thing he said was, "I wanna do this right."

You felt the next wave of tears coming so you burrowed further into him, pressing your face against his neck, breathing him in and letting him slowly put you back together with each comforting stroke of his hand.

"Lemme do this right, sweetheart, please. Tell me how to fix it."

You didn't have the answer. Your eyes were dry and burning from all the tears you had just spilled and you felt completely drained. Every muscle in your body felt weak and useless, the last thing you wanted to do was think.

You continued to sit in silence, the only sound coming from the gold mantle clock slowly ticking away the seconds and some very faint murmuring when groups of people would walk by Joel's office. You closed your eyes, encased in his warmth, and let your mind drift back to everything that went wrong, wondering how you would do things differently if you could go back in time. Then you remembered something Joel had said on the plane and your eyes snapped open.

"What if we started over?"

His thumb, which was drawing slow, comforting circles over your arm, paused.

"You'd - yeah," he agreed, sounding a little breathless, "yeah, I think that's a good idea."

You sat up, untangling yourself from him so you could sit properly on the couch. You pulled your legs from his lap and tucked them underneath you before sticking out your hand and reintroducing yourself with a shaky smile.

He gave you a little grin before taking your hand in his, eyes glistening when he said, "Joel Miller."

It was impossible to keep the smile from your face when you heard the buzzer, followed by Joel's deep voice letting you know he was there to pick you up for your date.

Your "first" date.

With a skip in your step, you trotted to the elevator, tapped your foot impatiently all the way down, and practically ran out into the lobby with excitement. You caught yourself at the last second, making sure you looked more collected and cool than you really felt before pushing open the front doors.

And there he stood, in all his glory, at the bottom of your building's stone steps. His hands were in the pockets of his expensive black suit, and he grinned when he saw you for the first time, a stark contrast from the last time you each stood in those spots.

"You look beautiful," he murmured when you got closer, eyes dropping appreciatively to take in the light blue floral dress you chose, then bent over to plant a kiss on your cheek. The way his scruff tickled your skin had a wave of goosebumps flashing over your arms, making you shiver.

"Thank you," you said, scooting into the backseat of his car when he held the door open for you.

"Hi, Richie."

"Hey, honey," he replied with a smile and wink in the review mirror.

Joel rounded the back of the car and slipped in beside you, then gave Richie a nod to start driving.

"Wait, where are we going?" you asked as you buckled your seatbelt.

"Got a reservation at this French restaurant that just opened up. Supposed to be impossible to get in but, well..." he smirked a little and shrugged, letting his sentence trail off.

"Uh, I was actually thinking of something else."

Joel gave you a curious look. "Like what?"

"Like... maybe getting pizza at Sal's and then catching the 9:45 showing of Shadow Strike?" you offered with a cheesy smile. Joel laughed, eyes crinkling as he tipped his head back. Seeing him so relaxed and happy was truly a sight to behold.

"Anythin' you want," he replied, then leaned forward. "Hear that, Richie?"

"Yes, sir."

Joel patted the headrest twice and sat back, brown eyes dancing when they found you again.

"Hole in the wall pizza joint and a movie theater? I'm gonna regret wearin' these shoes, ain't I?"

You looked down at the shiny, black leather and giggled.

"How much were they?"

"Seven hundred."

"Oh, yeah, you'll definitely regret it."

The floors at Sal's left little to be desired, for sure, but the pizza was undeniably the best in town. One bite had Joel forgetting all about the stained laminate flooring.

"Right?" you asked excitedly when his eyebrows raised in surprise.

He only nodded, his mouth full until he swallowed and said, "Didn't think there was any decent pizza out here. Reminds me of New York pizza," before taking another large bite.

You giggled and leaned across the high top table to grab the shaker of parmesan cheese.

"I'll have to take your word for it, I've never been."

"You've never been to New York?" he echoed incredulously, and you shook you head as you took another bite. Joel gave you a fake look of disappointment before saying, "I'll have to take you with me next time."

"Do you go often?" you asked, tucking away the idea of traveling again with Joel for later.

"Yeah, 'sides the hotel out here, New York's my biggest source of revenue."

"For now, right?" you countered. He grinned and wiped the corner of his mouth with a thin paper napkin.

"We're a long ways off from openin' in Fiji, but, yeah, that one's projected to make the most."

You nodded, both falling into a comfortable silence while you finished your food.

"Alright," Joel said after balling up his napkins and tossing them onto his greasy paper plate. "Where're you from?"

You laughed and felt your cheeks warm when you replied, "You already know that."

"It's our first date," he reminded you with an adorable smile. His forearms were crossed and resting on the tabletop. He leaned forward like he was sharing a secret, completely oblivious to the looks he was getting when other customers saw him in his sharp, black suit, completely out of place for the setting.

"Okay, I'll play," you decided, leaning forward to mimic his posture. "I'm from Tennessee."

"And what brought you all the way out here?"

You laughed and said, "College."

"You lose your accent or did you never have one?" he asked.

"Uh, I might've had a small accent when I first moved, but I'm afraid it's long gone now. Not like yours," you pointed out.

When you first met, Joel refused to share anything about himself. You were delighted to find out that had changed.

"Grew up in Texas. Whenever I feel it fadin', I know it's time to go back for a visit," he joked, watching your eyes light up when he freely shared something about himself.

"W-where in Texas?" you stammered. You were still unsure of how much he was willing to share, so you figured you would keep your questions to a minimum. But once again, he shocked you.

"Austin. Parents are still out there somewhere. Little brother, too, pretty sure."

"Oh," you replied softly. You grew nervous at the mention of his brother, remembering how the last time he was brought up didn't go so well, so you chose to leave the topic alone and instead focused on his parents.

"Are you close with your mom and dad?"

Joel shrugged, appearing calm on the outside but he could feel his heart pumping faster and his foot began to tap anxiously. If it weren't for the noisy, sticky floor giving him away, you may not have noticed, but you did.

He was nervous, but he was still trying.

You reached out to gently squeeze his arm, making him smile.

"We don't have to," you whispered. We can go slow, it's okay.

"Not as close as I used to be," he said, ignoring the out you gave and allowing the words to tumble out of him all at once. "Y'know how families are. Stupid fights 'n all that."

You nodded vigorously in agreement. "Same with me. Well, I never got along great with my parents. I was always looking for a reason to leave. I applied to schools as far away from home as possible, then me and my best friend both got into UC and it was a no brainer."

Joel looked relieved when you pulled the focus back onto yourself. His shoulders relaxed a bit and he leaned forward.

"The friend you were tellin' me 'bout?" he asked, letting you fill in the rest of the sentence. The one who called the doctor.

"Celine," you offered, "yeah. We've been friends forever."

On the way back to his car, you told him a story from when you and Celine were in high school. Back when you were underage and dumb and drank too much at a house party to impress a boy and you ended up vomiting into some boxwoods while Celine held your hair back.

"The neighbor boy?" Joel guessed.

"You remembered," you said, sounding impressed. He gave you a knowing look, lips pulling into half a smirk, like he were saying of course I remembered.

"Well, yeah. The very same," you confirmed with a deep breath. You fidgeted with the skirt of your dress, trying to hide the sudden wave of shyness that washed over you. Even though you had history, that night somehow really did feel like a first date.

Joel took your hand when you stepped out of the car and he led you into the movie theater, only letting you go when he needed both hands to pay for your tickets.

"I had my first kiss in a movie theater," Joel said as he stood in line beside you for popcorn. You tilted your head to look at him, excited once again he was sharing something personal about himself.

"What movie was it?"

"Indiana Jones," he replied without hesitation. Then you laughed when he added, "I was so nervous the whole time, barely saw a minute of it. Kept psychin' myself up to make a move and couldn't think 'bout anythin' else."

"I can't imagine you nervous," you teased, then right before the clerk called you up to the counter, you locked eyes.

"You make me nervous all the time."

You blinked, stunned by his sudden vulnerability, and then a second later he was at the counter ordering.

"C'mon, don't wanna miss the beginning," he said as he handed you your drink and motioned towards the theaters, completely unperturbed.

When you picked the movie, you figured a standard action flick would be pretty safe. You steered clear of anything romantic, not wanting to inadvertently draw parallels to your own relationship, and you even avoided horror because you had a tendency to cling to the person you're with out of fear. Yet somehow you still found yourself inching closer to him.

At first, you crossed your legs and your foot grazed his knee. Purely accidental. You even apologized and shifted a bit to create more space. But then you kept leaning on the armrest between you and your head tilted to rest between both seats. You wanted to blame it on the fact that he held the popcorn bucket, but he was kind enough to move it closer so you wouldn't have to reach so far.

Around the halfway point of the movie, his hand found your knee. If you recalled correctly, it was during one of the rare funny parts of the movie and you both had leaned forward to laugh. His hand grabbed you for support and just kind of... stayed there.

After that, you had trouble following the plot.

"Wait... who is he again?" you whispered. Joel's fingers flexed on your knee when he leaned over and you were eternally grateful the dark room hid how flustered it made you.

"The marine? He's the brother from earlier."

"Oh, right," you replied, and you must not have sounded very convincing because he gave you a look and you giggled, slapping your palm over your mouth when the people a couple rows ahead of you turned around.

Joel grinned and remained where he was instead of straightening back up.

A few more minutes went by. You pretended to watch the movie but he was too distracting, being that close. Your gaze kept drifting off the screen and down to his hand, then from his hand up to his face, admiring the way the light from the film played across his perfect side profile.

He felt your eyes on him and he turned his head, still smiling when he asked, "You alright?"

"Mhmm," you hummed with a vigorous nod. Then you found yourself leaning a little closer and his gaze flickered from your eyes to your lips, then back to your eyes again.

It wasn't your fault. He looked so ridiculous and handsome in his expensive suit eating buttery popcorn in an old movie theater. You simply couldn't help yourself. You both inched forward at the same time and gently pressed your lips together. At first, it was timid and sweet and sent a spark down your spine. It felt so nice to kiss him again after so long and after everything that happened, you easily lost yourself in him.

Too easily.

By the time the credits rolled and the dim lights slowly turned back on, you had both hands buried in his hair and his tongue halfway down your throat. When you realized that people could see you, you hurriedly pulled apart at the exact same time. Joel's hand, which had once been on your knee and had since traveled up the skirt of your dress, gave your thigh a little squeeze before begrudgingly untangling himself from you.

"Maybe we should go," you said, giving him a shy glance after fixing yourself up a bit.

"Yeah, just... gimme a minute," he replied, his eyes rolling to stare at the ceiling as he took a few deep, focused breaths. The theater was almost empty and you were about to ask what was wrong when you noticed the bulge in his pants. Heat flooded your face and you looked away to hide your laughter, but he caught you.

"Oh, you think it's funny?" he asked. He tried to sound serious but he couldn't keep the smile from his face.

"A little," you admitted when you looked back at him. He grinned and finally stood up with a groan, tugging his suit coat closed before reaching for your hand.

"I'll remember that," he warned as he led you down the steps and back out into the lobby.

Once you were settled in his car with Richie driving through the dark, quiet streets back towards your apartment, you turned to Joel and asked, "Better than Indiana Jones?"

"Oh, no contest, baby," he murmured with a sly smile.

You giggled and let his fingers thread through yours on top of the seat. Your cheeks ached from how much you laughed and smiled that night. Admittedly, you had your doubts you would be able to really start over after everything that happened, but things felt so different now. In large part, that had to do with Joel and how much he was trying. He pushed himself to open up to you a little bit, despite his uneasiness, and he had no problem agreeing to a normal first date at the last minute.

He was really trying, and he was doing it for you.

"I got it, Richie," Joel said when the car pulled up to your curb and the driver had moved to unbuckle his belt. He gave Joel a nod in the review mirror and stayed put as Joel swung his door open to step outside. Then his eyes shifted to yours and he smiled.

"Have a good night, honey."

"Thanks, Richie, you too," you said warmly just as Joel opened your door.

He held out his hand and you took it, steadying yourself to stand, and gave him a grateful smile right when he pushed the door shut. Wrapping your arms around the crook of his elbow, he led you up the steps to the front door of your building, only letting you go to search for your keys.

"Well, thank you," you said, sounding a little more breathless than you intended, but Joel seemed to like it because his brown eyes sparkled and his mouth twitched when he heard the desire laced in your voice. "I had a great time."

"Me, too," he murmured as he casually leaned against the doorframe, playfully cocking his head to the side as he sized you up and down. "Y'know, I've never seen your place," he said innocently, but when your jaw dropped in mock offense and you gave his shoulder a gentle push, he threw his head back and laughed.

"Excuse me, I don't put out on the first date," you joked, unable to stop yourself from smiling.

"No, 'course not. Was just pointin' out a fact, is all," Joel replied with a matching grin of his own.

"Oh, is that all?" you echoed, leaning forward and wrapping his tie around your fist, then giving it a gentle tug so he would meet you halfway.

"Yeah," he whispered right before your mouths found each other once again. You could still taste the salt and butter from the popcorn on his lips as he crowded you against the door, both his hands flying up to cup each side of your face, cradling it gently while his lips massaged yours. There was just something about him that always had you melting into a puddle at his feet, and that evening was no exception. You had to tear yourself away with a soft laugh before you broke your rule and invited him upstairs.

"Can we do this again?" he asked as you slid your key into the door. You pushed it open and stepped inside, turning back to face him.

"I would love that."

Joel grinned and promised he would call before you waved goodnight and disappeared into the lobby.

When your elevator opened up on your floor, you hurried to your apartment, exhausted but giddy with excitement at how perfect the date went. You flicked on your lights and locked your door before kicking your heels off and throwing your purse onto the couch, but not before digging out your phone to taken with you as you got changed and ready for bed.

You had just finished brushing your teeth, not ten minutes after he left, when your phone rang. Your heart fluttered in your chest when you saw his name, and you slipped between your bedsheets before answering.

"Hello?"

"Hey."

You could hear the road noise in the background when you asked, "Did you forget something?"

"Nope. Just said I would call."

You laughed and pulled your blankets up around your chin.

"I thought that meant maybe tomorrow."

"Miss you, didn't wanna wait," he answered immediately. You bit your lower lip and even though he couldn't see you, you pressed your palm over your cheeks when you felt them grow hot.

"I miss you, too," you whispered.

After a beat of silence where you were each smiling like fools for no one to see, he spoke again.

"What do you wanna do for our next date?"

"Hmm," you tapped your chin thoughtfully for a moment. "How about you pick the next one since I picked this one? We can take turns."

You heard his deep chuckle on the other end and you grinned.

"I like it. You're on."

You figured Joel would pick something a little fancier than you, but you weren't expecting him to propose a date to the opera for your fourth date. It was a far cry from the shitty little dive bar around the corner that had a really fun trivia night you dragged him to a few days before.

Joel! I don't have anything to wear to the opera!

I kept all your clothes. I'll have Liam drop off some things before EOD.

Before you even had a chance to process the fact Joel had kept everything from your trip to Fiji and what that could possibly mean, your phone pinged with another text.

Told you you should've kept them

You grinned and shook your head.

And I told *you* I don't have the room

When are you gonna let me see this tiny apartment of yours?

You glanced around your living room, the space was cozy but definitely not spacious. It was hard to even imagine Joel there. Would he even like it? He was definitely used to a very different lifestyle than you. You were nervously chewing your nail, lost in thought, when your phone pinged again.

Sorry, not trying to pressure you, that's not what I meant

Shit, you took too long to answer and had him second guessing himself.

I know lol I was just reading an email - sorry

It wasn't entirely untrue. Your laptop sat open on your coffee table, your email program sitting before you.

Any luck on the job front?

No... not yet. Fortunately I have a handsome benefactor paying my rent for the next two months ;)

Your handsome benefactor would really like it if you let him help you find a job, baby

You rolled your eyes and sighed before typing out, don't you have a company to run?

I can do two things at once

You laughed to yourself and leaned back into your couch, staring at your phone longingly.

Since your first date with Joel, you had spoken every single day, approximately two weeks. What surprised you the most was the constant stream of texts he sent you throughout the day. You saw how he was in Fiji, you knew he was busy and had meetings and calls around the clock. How on earth he managed to do both still astounded you.

Because he was really trying, a little voice in the back of your head piped up.

He really did seem like a completely different man from the one you first met. Traces of him were still there: he hadn't yet come clean about his daughter or brother, but every time you saw each other, he made a point of sharing something new about himself. He told you a handful of stories from when he was younger, living in Texas. He told you his brother was a contractor but that was the only thing you knew about him. And that was okay. You wanted him to tell you about himself on his own terms, without feeling pressured, and that was exactly what he was doing.

Well I need to shower and figure out what to do with my hair for tonight. Unfortunately my phone's not waterproof so I guess I'll just see you later?

Looking forward to it - I'll let you know when to expect Liam

Like he promised, Liam arrived around four in the afternoon with an armful of dresses draped over one arm and a bag of shoes in the other.

"Oh, god, here - lemme help you," you said when you saw how much he was carrying from the elevator. He shot you a relieved smile when you grabbed a few things from his arms and helped him inside your apartment. He took one quick glance around and said, "Cute," before laying the dresses out on your couch and unzipping the bags.

"Alright. I brought a few pieces I thought would work best. You're free to do whatever, of course, but I would recommend the Chanel dress with the Valentino shoes."

Your eyes darted around at the items suddenly taking up all of the space in your living room and tried not to look completely out of your depth, but he must have been able to tell because he snatched up both items and handed them to you.

"Oh, thanks," you told him. The Chanel dress was a slinky black number you never had a chance to wear on the island, and the shoes were strappy heels you thought you wore once to a dinner with Zoe.

"Have you seen La Traviata before?" Liam asked. You chuckled and shook your head.

"I've never even been to the opera before."

Liam smiled and clapped his hands together gleefully. "Oh, you'll have such a great time! This is a great one to see. Especially from the box. You'll be able to see everything and won't have to dodge horrible hairdos or top hats."

"B-box? Joel's got box seats?" you stammered. He laughed and began to open a small toiletry bag filled with jewelry.

"Of course he does."

Liam held up a few necklaces before settling on a thin chain of diamonds and setting it aside. He then dug out matching earrings and a bracelet while he asked, "What are you planning to do with your hair?"

You had washed and dried it but otherwise, you hadn't gotten further than that.

"Uh, just wear it down, I guess."

Liam straightened up and gave you a once over. "Want some help?"

Relief flooded your veins and you quickly nodded. "Do you mind?"

He smiled and shook his head before flapping his hands, ushering you towards your bathroom.

"Not at all. Let's see what you're working with."

"Jesus, you look beautiful," Joel murmured for the fourth time since he picked you up. He had one arm wrapped tightly around your middle, pulling you close to his side as you weaved through the lobby of the opera house. You owed it all to Liam. He was a lifesaver. He picked out your outfit and helped curl your hair where you couldn't reach it, keeping you distracted while he told you about his boyfriend's parents and their lavish home in Malibu.

"Thank you," you replied softly, looking him up and down in his sharp, black tuxedo before reminding him how good he looked, too.

"You wanna get a drink before it starts? We got 'bout ten minutes," he said, looking quickly at his watch before catching your eye.

"Uh, no, thanks. I'm good," you replied, looking past him to admire the ornate architecture. "Do you come to the opera often?"

"Not as much as I like," he told you while leading you towards a flight of carpeted stairs in the corner of the room. "Don't usually have many dates," he added with a little smirk. You smiled back, heart fluttering a little in your chest at how relaxed and happy he seemed.

He had been so good about opening up lately, you decided to test the waters and see how he would react.

"When was your last relationship?"

He faltered for just a quick moment when he reached out to pull back the red velvet curtain that led to your box seats, but he recovered nicely.

"You mean a real relationship?" he asked, and you nodded. He pulled out your chair and you swept the skirt of your dress underneath you before sitting down and thanking him.

"Well, that woulda been with Sarah's mom."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise and you twisted in your seat to look at him. He was fixing his suit coat, looking down as his fingers nervously fidgeted with the buttons while he spoke.

"Was a long time ago. Sarah's fifteen now," he added, clearing his throat before locking eyes with you.

You swallowed and nodded before forcing yourself to reply, trying not to look too eager to hear more.

"That's a long time."

"Explains why I'm so rusty," he joked, cracking a little smile which you quickly reciprocated.

"You're not as rusty as you think," you teased. "I've been having a really great time the past couple weeks."

His smile softened and he instinctively found your hand, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles.

"Me, too," he murmured, dark eyes sparkling in the dim lighting from the chandeliers hanging over the auditorium.

His hand rarely left yours the entire three hours. The brief moments where the audience was expected to clap were the only exception, and then his hand immediately fell to yours once again. There was something so sweet and tender about the gesture, it made your chest squeeze and had you wishing you could curl into his side and wrap yourself around him.

What was wonderful was he didn't expect anything from you in these two short weeks, but then again, he never really did. Not in the way you were thinking, anyway. But that particular evening, you couldn't stop yourself from thinking about it. It might have been the heart-wrenchingly beautiful arias, or his thick fingers laced between yours, or how fucking good he looked in his tux, but whatever it was, it was driving you crazy. During the final hour of the performance, you were trying not to squirm in your seat too much and distract him because it truly was a beautiful opera, and you enjoyed it much more than you expected, but your close proximity and constant contact had your body reacting in ways that were not appropriate for the setting.

Even in the car on the way back to your apartment, you struggled to carry on a simple fucking conversation with him, allowing Joel to do most of the talking as he described his favorite parts while your eyes subtly darted between him and Richie, wishing more than ever that Joel would use that goddamn partition you knew the car had but he never seemed to utilize.

The three dates you've had before all ended the same way. Richie had figured out by now that Joel preferred to open your door himself, so he remained seated after giving you a quick good night over his shoulder while Joel slid out of the car to walk you up. He would kiss you, tell you what a fun time he had, maybe offer up a suggestion for your next date and probably give you a flirty little joke or comment before kissing you one last time with the promise to call.

This time, you only let him get to the first kiss before you whispered against his lips, "Do you want to come up and finally see my apartment?"

He pulled back like he had been electrocuted and you stifled a giggle at the serious look on his face. You could practically see the gears in his head turning as he tried to formulate a response.

"Or, you know, you could see it another time if you're tired," you added, hiding your smirk when you turned to unlock your front door.

"N-no, that's - y'sure?" he asked from over your shoulder. You pushed open the door and took one step inside before turning back around. Dragging your gaze up and down his body, you looked him dead in the eye when you said, "Absolutely."

Joel waved Richie off when you turned to drag him into your building, praying the ancient elevator wouldn't take forever like it normally did. You were in luck: it opened right away for once, and you quickly stepped inside before repeatedly jabbing the button for your floor. Joel chuckled behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist when the doors closed.

"That excited to show me your place, hm?" he murmured, his lips brushing over your bare shoulder. You leaned back into his chest, head lolling to the side and eyelids fluttering when his prickly mustache tickled your neck.

"Mhmm," you hummed, then bravely added, "especially my bedroom."

He groaned and gently bit at the skin behind your ear, teeth grazing over a tender spot, making you shudder.

"C'mon," you muttered once the doors slid open, grabbing his hand and hauling him down the hall towards your apartment. When you turned the corner, your eyes widened in surprise when you almost ran into your neighbor.

"Oh! Mrs. Adams! Hi... s-sorry," you stammered at the elderly woman wrapped in her robe with her tiny white dog cradled in her arms.

"Ma'am," Joel said with a friendly nod.

She said your name in greeting, then gave Joel a suspicious look over her shoulder before disappearing inside your abandoned elevator. You giggled and knocked your door open with your hip, pulling him inside and locking the door while flicking on your lights.

With one hand on your lower back, he looked around your meager apartment, standing in the middle of your living room slash kitchen in his tuxedo looking more out of place than you could have ever imagined, but it didn't bother you. Turned out, you liked seeing him in your space. You wanted to have memories of him sitting on your couch or eating at your table or taking a shower in your bathroom.

"I like it," he said, eyes still darting around to take in every little thing. Then he spotted some framed photographs on your entertainment center and he took a step forward.

"Can we look at those later?" you asked, tugging him back. He grinned and nodded before cupping your jaw and placing a tender kiss against your lips.

"You got somethin' else in mind?" he teased, but you just nodded earnestly and began to tug at his tie. He chuckled and watched you yank it from around his neck, dropping it on your floor before beginning to undo his buttons.

His hands fell to your sides, running up and down and plucking at the slinky fabric of your dress while you undid half the buttons of his crisp white shirt. Pleased to find he wasn't wearing an undershirt, you lunged forward and started to leave a trail of wet kisses leading from the center of his chest all the way up to the corner of his mouth.

"Missed you," he breathed, letting his eyes fall closed while you worked on sucking a bruise into his neck. Your fingers worked faster now, tugging the shirt from his dress pants and fumbling with the remaining buttons.

"Me, too," you whispered, lips still nipping at his skin, tongue darting out to press against his pulse. His shirt finally fell open and your nails lightly dragged down his chest when you added, "Need you. Please, Joel... kiss me."

You didn't need to ask twice.

His mouth collided with yours, all messy and urgent, and he began to walk you backwards towards the open door of your bedroom. He deftly worked the zipper on the back of your dress, pulling it down as he walked, mouth still seared across yours.

When you stepped through the threshold, your heels transitioning from hardwood to carpet, you blindly flung a hand out and flicked a light switch. In the corner of your room, a floor lamp turned on, casting you both in a soft glow when Joel finally pushed you down onto your bed.

His eyes, dark and filled with desire, dragged up and down your body while he unbuttoned his cuffs and shrugged off his shirt. Your dress was unzipped but still hung from your shoulders as you watched him slowly work his belt with bated breath.

"I like your room," he told you, tone casual like he wasn't taking off his pants and palming his cock through his boxers.

"Thanks," you laughed as you began to squirm out of your dress. He grinned and grabbed a heel in each hand before sliding them off and tossing them into a corner. "I can't imagine the kind of bedroom you have. Probably as big as the entire floor of this building."

"You'll have to come over and see," Joel said, eyes glued to your dress when it slid to the floor. He knelt on the edge of your mattress, old bed squeaking under his weight, then fell forward to hover above you.

He traced a finger along your jaw, mesmerized for a moment as he admired you up close. When he heard your breathing stutter under the scrutiny, his gaze flickered up to yours and he pinched your chin.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "For everythin'. For every time I pushed you away 'n every time I made you cry."

The sudden shift in mood stunned you for a second and he took the opportunity to press his lips firmly against yours, tethering you together for just a moment before pulling away.

"Thank you for givin' me another chance," he whispered, closing his eyes and nudging his nose gently against yours. "I won't fuck this up again, baby, I promise."

"You better fucking not," you sniffled, then wrapped your arms loosely around his neck to pull him into another deep kiss so he wouldn't see your eyes grow watery.

"There's my girl," he chuckled at your sass when he broke away to pepper kisses along your jaw. My girl. Hearing those words shot a bolt of arousal through you and your hips began to subtly rock upwards, seeking out some friction to soothe the ache between your legs.

"Want me to take care of you?" he murmured into your skin. "Want me to make you feel good, baby?"

"Yeah," you whined, hips bucking upwards to chase his hand that dropped between your thighs, fingers teasing at your seam through your soaked panties. Then he hooked the fabric to the side, his mouth finding yours right when he slid two thick fingers inside you, swallowing down your gasp and groaning at the sharp bite of pain from your nails digging into his shoulders.

"Shit," you whispered when he began to plunge them in and out, curling and flexing his fingers inside your wet walls, soaked from the arousal building since you first saw him in his tuxedo when he picked you up.

Joel hummed, relishing in the familiar feel around him and trying to hold himself back from pulling his hand out from between your legs so he could bury his cock deep inside you, instead.

But he refused to be selfish. He said he wanted to take care of you, and he meant it. He meant it in every imaginable way.

All he wanted was you.

"So beautiful, y'know that?" he mumbled, mouth dragging over your jaw, teeth lightly nipping at your chin. "So warm 'n perfect, missed havin' you like this," he continued, lips twitching when he saw your eyes squeeze shut and mouth fall open when his fingertips brushed against that spot that had you reduced to a mumbling mess underneath him.

Joel could sense he had you right on the edge. He heard it in the way your breath came in staggered gasps and could feel it in the way your legs began to quake. He picked up the pace, breath puffing hot and fast from his nose, eyes locked on your face, eager to watch you fall apart for him after what felt like an eternity without you.

Then his face broke out into a cocky grin when the heel of his palm started to slap against your clit with each snap of his wrist. The noises you made for him were like music to his ears, a symphony of his name and more and don't stop and a litany of curses.

"Gonna come for me, darlin'? Gonna come 'n let me fuck this perfect little pussy?" he growled while biting gently at your earlobe. You whined and tipped your head back, pushing deep into your pillow as the pleasure mounted low in your belly, burning bright when it finally spilled over with a pathetic hoarse whimper. Joel groaned when your nails dragged down unexpectedly hard, leaving angry red trails over the skin of his back. Marks he would catch in the mirror on Monday and grin proudly at his reflection after he stepped out of his shower.

"Fuck, Joel," you panted, eyes fluttering open to gaze up at him. You looked so beautiful like that. All fucked out, hair a mess, skin hot, lips swollen. He dove down and pulled your lower lip between his teeth, gently tugging before letting it go and slipping his tongue into your eager mouth. His fingers had slowed to a stop inside you, but he could still feel your cunt pulsing with the aftershocks of your orgasm. It was a feeling he was very familiar with. A feeling he craved and now that he had it again, feared he may go insane if he didn't feel it around his painfully hard cock very soon.

As if you read his mind, you dragged your mouth away from his to whisper in his ear, "Fuck me, Joel," and he swore the edges of his vision blurred from just your request alone.

A high pitched moan slipped past your lips when he pulled his fingers out from between your legs. You rolled your head to the side, the sudden emptiness causing you to writhe in discomfort, but you wouldn't have to wait very long.

He reached around to unhook your strapless bra and tossed it onto your floor, like he was mad at it for keeping you from him. Then he made short work of your underwear, which you looked relieved to finally be rid of, before pulling down his boxers and freeing his throbbing cock. He caught your gaze drop and your teeth sunk into your lower lip before sitting up.

"I wanna suck it," you announced, but when you began to lean down, he grabbed your shoulders and hauled you up.

"Not tonight," he told you, and you whined a little as you reached down to stroke him. He groaned and tipped his head back, hips thrusting into your fist on their own accord.

"Please," you pleaded, lips puckering around his adam's apple. And you almost got him. He could hardly resist when you begged, especially with the promise of your warm, soft mouth wrapped around his cock, but he knew he wouldn't last long if he let you.

"Lemme fuck you, baby," he murmured when he gave you a gentle push. You flopped back onto your bed with a playful scowl, tits bouncing a little from the impact when he suddenly reached down to the floor to grab his pants. He pulled out a little foil wrapper and you frowned.

"We don't have to-"

"Just bein' extra careful, alright?" he told you, cutting you off as he rolled the condom on.

"I have an implant now. It won't be a problem like last time," you insisted, but he already tossed the wrapper to the ground and fell onto his elbows, hovering above you.

"Humor me," he said with a little smirk right before his hips pushed your thighs apart, wasting no time lining himself up with your entrance.

Normally, he would go slow. Normally, he would take his time and feed you his cock inch by inch, but on that particular evening, he was too desperate. With one deep grunt and rough thrust, he sheathed himself inside you in one go, making your jaw drop and your eyes roll to the back of your head.

"Sorry," he gasped, forehead falling to your shoulder. He squeezed his eyes shut, the sensation of your pussy gripping him so perfectly sending him reeling. "Sorry," he repeated as the both of you struggled for air, "I didn't mean, I - fuck -" his hips began to move just a little bit and he whimpered when your fingers drifted up to get tangled in his hair.

"It's okay, keep going," you encouraged him, taking a deep breath and forcing your muscles to relax.

"Don't wanna hurt you but, fuck baby, I want you so goddamn bad."

"I know, it's okay, it doesn't hurt," you told him truthfully. His mouth was open, pressed against your chest with his exhale fanning across your skin, making you shiver. You wrapped your legs around his waist and tilted your hips with a gasp. "God, you're so deep," you moaned, nails scraping his scalp when he began to move a little more steadily.

"I know, baby, I know," he murmured, voice sounding strained. It was all too much and, somehow, not enough. You clung to him when his hips began to snap against you, jostling your entire body with each earth-shattering thrust. His groans and your whimpers getting lost in each others mouths. Tears stung your eyes when he whispered, "Think 'bout you all the time. Never stop thinkin' 'bout you." And he growled when you admitted the same.

Your shitty little bed frame screamed underneath you the more desperate Joel became, no doubt grabbing the attention of Mrs. Adams across the hall. His hands never stopped moving. They cupped your breast, the back of your neck, your ass, and then his fingers hooked under your knee, pulling your leg to open up your hips.

Your eyes flew open and you cried out at the intense angle, his cock splitting you in two but his kiss put you right back together again. One of his hands fell to grab your hip, his other arm bracing himself next to your head and it felt utterly overwhelming, being completely consumed by him, that you wanted to do the same. You tugged at his hair, nipped at his throat, wrapped your other leg even tighter around his middle.

If he was going to destroy you, you wanted to give it right back.

He appeared to enjoy it. He groaned and his lips curled into a smile when you tried to take a piece of him. It made him slam his hips into your harder, had him plunging his tongue into your mouth with an urgency that sent your back arching off the bed, pressing your bare chest against his.

"You like that?" he mumbled into your mouth, lips barely leaving yours to speak. "You like when I fuck you like this?"

"So - good -" you moaned, each word bookended by a snap of his hips.

"You like gettin' me all worked up? Like drivin' me fuckin' crazy?"

"Yeah, actually, I do," you breathed, smirking at the sound of his words passing through gritted teeth. His chin dropped and his teeth grazed your nipple a little harsher than you expected and you yelped, which melted into a giggle when you felt him smile against your skin.

You pulled your lower lip between your teeth and, with your lips still curved into a smile, reached down to grab his ass, giving it a firm squeeze while making sure to add a little pinch from your nails. It made him grunt, his hips changing their pace. What was rough, strong thrusts of his hips now faltered to deep strokes which he made sure to drive upwards so he could reach that spot inside you he knew would have you screaming his name.

"Oh, fuck!" you cried out, and he chuckled darkly against your throat. "Fuck! Joel... keep - going," you gasped. Your hands were back to clawing at his shoulders while he drove into you over and over. His forehead prickled with sweat and he could feel his curls beginning to stick to his skin but he refused to let up because you were so close. Your slick walls were clenching around him, making him see stars, while you repeatedly whined his name. He smirked to himself, pleased he got exactly what he wanted. Your voice was already hoarse and he could only imagine what it would sound like in the morning, all raw and thick with sleep.

"You gonna come f'me, baby?" he asked, voice deep and gravelly in your ear. You nodded, mouth still hung open in a silent scream. "Then do it. C'mon, wanna feel you," he coaxed. "Wanna feel your tight little pussy milk this cock. Go on, lemme have it."

The ball of tension growing hotter and brighter at the base of your spine finally broke. Your back arched up again and your head flew back into the pillows as your orgasm rolled through your entire body, his name reduced to just a mere whimper on your lips, unable to give anything else. Your muscles weakened and you collapsed back into the bedding, your brain in a fog. Meanwhile, Joel reared back and dragged your hips onto his lap, pounding steadily into your used cunt, all frantic and delirious in his movements until he slammed into you one final time with a deep, prolonged groan.

Your eyes slid closed, but his mouth was back on yours in an instant. Soft, tender kisses pressed shakily against your lips, silence filling the room except for the quiet sound of your combined heavy breathing and your bed springs occasionally squealing when Joel shifted his weight.

"You good?" he murmured, pressing his forehead against yours with a deep breath. You nodded then winced when he withdrew his softening cock from between your legs. He propped himself up on his elbows and gazed down at you, searching your face very seriously for a moment. You opened your mouth to ask but the words died in your throat. Instead, you let him study you. Your eyes landed on the little wrinkles developing next to his eyes, the cute pout he made when he was deep in thought, the way his hair stood like a halo after your fingers pulled and tugged, rearranging the product that was combed through.

He kept looking at you, something happening behind his eyes, something meaningful. But just when you thought you were on the cusp of something, he blinked and cleared his throat, pushing himself upright.

"Lemme go clean up real quick," he said, glancing out into the hallway.

"Okay," you said quietly, watching as he sauntered naked through your room and disappeared into the bathroom. You could hear the sink running, then a minute later, the toilet flushing, and you suddenly felt cold. You reached for your blankets and slid underneath, and right when your mind was about to get carried away with self-doubt and too many questions, the door flung open and he stepped out with a determined look.

"I almost married Sarah's mom."

You sat up in bed, clutching the sheets to your chest with wide eyes. He was standing in your doorway, still naked except the condom was gone. His fingers fidgeted nervously at his sides and the romantic side of you found it poetic that he was fully naked and about to reveal something so personal, but you couldn't focus much on that.

"Why didn't you?"

Joel blinked.

"I thought I loved her, but I think it was just 'cause she was havin' my baby," he began. "I was thirty, just startin' to make a name for myself, made a huge fuckin' mistake and, I dunno, felt like I had to do the right thing."

"Thirty," you repeated, and he nodded. "Didn't you say that was when you built The Parador?"

He nodded again and finally moved from his spot in the doorway to join you on the bed.

"I was naive. I met her at this networkin' event with a bunch of other guys in the hospitality industry. She was just at the bar, all alone, wasn't even part of the event or a worker or nothin'. Shoulda been my first clue, but I was young and stupid."

"What do you mean?"

He pulled the blankets over his waist and leaned up against your headboard.

"I didn't know it, but she was goin' fishin' that night."

You tilted your head to the side, confusion written all over your face.

"She was lookin' to sink her claws into someone with money. She knew everyone at that event was somebody, so she cast her line and reeled one in."

Slowly, you began to connect the dots.

"She... she was using you for your money?"

Joel swallowed and nodded, his eyes darting around your face nervously.

"Did - you said the pregnancy was a mistake-"

"I don't know if she planned it, but it sure as hell felt that way after I found everythin' out. She was expectin' me to propose, thought she'd be set for life if she had my kid. Heard her on the phone one night with a friend who was doin' the same thing to someone else. Same night I came home early to surprise her after we found out we were havin' a girl."

"Oh, my god," you whispered in disbelief.

"It was wrong, I know it, but I was so fuckin' hurt," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I kicked her out. I know it wasn't Sarah's fault and I tried, I really fuckin' tried, but every time I saw her-" he pressed his lips into a thin line and dropped his gaze to the sheets. "Just reminded me of everythin', and I couldn't handle it."

"So... you don't have a relationship with her? Or with Sarah?" you asked. He shook his head but he kept his eyes shamefully fixed on his hands.

Suddenly, everything made sense. Joel's concern with Glenn and his emphasis on family, Tammy's vague insinuation on the yacht, Joel's inability to trust you, his resistance to opening up. It was all because he was afraid of being used again.

The fact he had never been in love sounded more like he had never allowed himself to fall in love.

But he was trusting you now. Something that was clearly very difficult for him to do while he sat in fear of judgement.

You scooted forward on the bed and tucked yourself into his side. You wrapped your arms around his middle and rested your chin on his chest, curling yourself around him, trying to make him feel safe. His heart fluttered anxiously under his skin, you could feel it, but he slowly picked up his own arms and coiled them around you protectively.

"I'm sorry, Joel."

"What- what're you sorry for?"

"For everything you went through. I'm sorry she broke your heart. I'm sorry you suffered for so long with this burden. I'm sorry you felt like you couldn't tell me before, but I promise you, I'm not judging you."

"I know," he replied, kissing the top of your head. You took another deep breath before speaking again.

"And I'm not after you for your money. I can understand now why you -"

"Sweetheart, I know," he said, cutting you off.

You frowned and looked up at him. "You do?"

He grinned and nudged his nose gently against yours.

"Yeah. Probably the only goddamn sugar baby in the world who didn't want money, so... yeah. I know."

You giggled and pulled away from his grip so you could look him in the eye.

"I mean, it's kind of ironic... you seeking out a woman to pay to be with you? Why would you-"

"'Cause I woulda rather had all our cards on the table and know up front it was just a business deal," he explained. "Didn't need someone sneakin' 'round behind my back tryin' to take advantage of me. Rather know from jump."

You felt your chest tighten a little at that, and you couldn't stop yourself from leaning forward, giving him a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. He pulled you over to straddle his lap and wrapped his arms around your waist, gazing up at you with stars in his eyes.

"But you wanted everythin' else except my money," he murmured. You shifted your eyes to the left and began to play with a curl above his ear, suddenly growing shy under his scrutiny. But he kept going.

"Always had a feelin', but didn't wanna believe it. Couldn't believe it, I suppose," he added, watching your eyes carefully as you continued to focus on his hair. "You never cared 'bout doin' anythin' extravagant on the island. Wanted to spend time with me at the beach, wanted to get food from a stand at the corner with our goddamn faces painted," he chuckled. You grinned and felt your cheeks grow hot.

"Then you left those envelopes," he said, and your eyes finally found his again. He let a heavy moment pass between you as you stared down at him. "Never even opened 'em. Gave you that first one the first night we were there. And you didn't open it."

You shook your head and a slow smile stretched across his face.

"Then with the hell you gave me and the bank 'bout the payment after we got back," he groaned, tilting his face to the ceiling like he was in agony.

"Fifty thousand was too fucking much!" you practically shouted, but he just laughed and pulled you closer.

"You actually fuckin' like me," he said in wonder. "Why would someone like you want anythin' to do with someone like me?"

You threw your head back and laughed, immediately recognizing your own words being parroted back to you.

"Because," you replied once your laughter waned, "you're a good man, despite what you may think. You care and you're sweet and you make me feel safe. You make me feel good about myself. You pay attention to things that mean something to me. You - I -" you cut yourself off with a quick shake of your head. "Yeah... I actually fucking like you," you finished with a slow smile.

He grinned and cupped the back of your neck, but before pulling you down for a kiss, he whispered, "How'd I get so lucky?"

The next morning, you awoke to an empty bed. If it weren't for the incessant ache between your legs and the soreness of your throat, you would have wondered if it was all a dream. You reached for the other side of the bed and felt the sheets cool under your fingertips.

It was Saturday. You didn't think he would have worked that day, but then again, it was Joel, so maybe he did. But would he really leave without saying goodbye? After you were so raw and vulnerable with each other the night before?

That was when you heard it. Faint humming and music turned on low coming from your kitchen.

Oh, now this you had to see.

When you rolled out of bed, you almost reached for your pajamas, but then you spotted his shirt neatly draped over your desk chair and you couldn't resist. You picked it up and slid your arms through, rumpling the fabric underneath your chin and taking a deep breath. It still smelled just like him. A mixture of deodorant, soap, cologne and hair products. A unique scent that was quickly becoming a favorite of yours.

You stepped out of your bedroom and peered into your kitchen, a smile pulling at your lips when you saw him pouring coffee for you both, wearing only his boxers with the sweet sounds of 80s ballads filling the air. You crossed your arms and leaned against the wall, gaze slowly gliding over the strong, broad muscles of his back until he turned around and froze.

"Was gonna make you somethin' to eat and then I remembered... I don't know how to cook."

You burst out laughing and Joel grinned when he handed you your coffee.

"But you figured out the coffee machine," you said, taking a tentative sip and giving him an impressed look.

"That thing's a piece of shit, I'm buyin' you a new one," he scolded.

You dropped your jaw and frowned.

"No, you will not. It's not in its prime, sure, but it makes the best coffee."

Joel chuckled and wrapped the hand not holding his coffee around your ribs. Taking a step forward and dropping his chin had him towering over you seductively.

"Y'look real good in my clothes," he murmured, lips brushing against your forehead with a low hum.

"Couldn't help myself," you admitted softly, "smells just like you."

He pulled back a bit to give you half a smile. "You like smellin' like me?"

"Mhmm," you said under your breath, then nuzzled your nose into his bare chest and took a deep breath. "But now you smell like me."

Joel groaned and dipped his head lower, slotting his lips hungrily against yours. When his tongue slipped past your lips, you giggled and pulled away.

"I need some coffee first," you teased. He just smirked while his fingertips rubbed his bottom lip, like he were chasing the ghost of your kiss. His soft brown eyes were glimmering, so happy and content in your little living room slash kitchen. His cheeks were slightly pink and you weren't sure you'd ever seen him smile so much before.

While you sipped your coffee, you began to crack some eggs in a frying pan while simultaneously tossing some bread in the toaster. Meanwhile, Joel was nosing curiously around your apartment, inspecting little trinkets that he didn't have the chance to look at the night before.

"Snowglobe from Disney?" Joel asked, holding it up from across the room. You looked over your shoulder with a grin.

"My aunt and uncle are obsessed with Disney. They get me Disney themed shit every year for Christmas."

Joel hummed and placed it down gently on the windowsill before spotting a vase filled with sand and seashells. He smiled as he approached, too worried he would break it to pick it up when he asked, "When'd you steal sand?"

He heard you laugh and he turned back around.

"The day we were at the beach together. I had a ziploc for my sunscreen so, you know," you said with a shrug while you flipped the eggs. Joel gave the vase one more look, smiling to himself when he saw the new pink seashells scattered throughout.

"Where are you gonna hang the painting?" he asked when he saw it leaning up against the wall next to your television.

"I don't know yet. Maybe next to the door. Or maybe behind the couch," you answered, focusing on buttering the toast and turning off the gas before the eggs burned. You jumped when you suddenly felt his hands sliding around your waist.

"Supposed to go above the bed," he reminded you. Tilting your head to look at him over your shoulder, you grinned.

"You remember everything, don't you?"

"Sure do," he replied, giving your ass a playful smack before picking up both plates of food. "Where do you wanna eat?"

You both sunk into your old couch and balanced your plates on your knees, shoveling in forkfuls of food in between explaining the story behind every little thing that caught his eye.

Then he spotted your picture frames again. He leaned forward to put his empty plate on your coffee table and stood, his hulking, mostly-still-naked frame captivating you for a moment as he picked up a photo to study it.

"Your folks?" he asked, tilting the frame towards you. You squinted and nodded from the couch. "Any siblings?"

The question came out soft as he angled it back towards him.

"Nope. Just me. I've always wanted a sister but Celine was a pretty good substitute," you smiled as he picked up a photo of you and Celine on New Years Eve.

"'S'nice," he murmured thoughtfully, taking one last look at the photo before putting it back. He pretended to study a photo of you and your grandparents from your graduation when he added, "Probably best you got to pick. My brother's been a pain in the ass since I was old enough to ride a bike."

You perked up at the mention of his brother, folding your legs underneath you and setting your plate down next to his.

"Yeah?"

"Mhmm," he hummed, still staring down at the picture. "Always usin' my shit and breakin' it. Buttin' in with me 'n my friends to do somethin' stupid. Got me in trouble more times than I can count with our Mama," he mused. He finally set the picture down and turned to look at you. "Then he got older. The fuck ups got more serious. Bailin' him outta jail every other weekend. Got a DUI one summer and had me haulin' his ass all over town."

Your eyebrows raised in surprise but you remained silent, just nodding your head and giving him your full attention, too afraid to spook him with any questions just yet.

"Then we grew up. I moved out here, six months later he follows, 'course," he said, sounded exasperated when he plopped down on the couch next to you. "Got a job at a hotel, 'fore you know it he's beggin' me for a job. Got 'em one workin' as a dishwasher in the restaurant inside the hotel but he fucked that up before I could blink an eye."

Before he even finished the story, you could sense where it was going.

"Finally, he finds his own way. Gets in with a construction company. And he did pretty good, too. I had my thing goin' on at the hotel. Learnin' from the manager 'n all that. By the time I was ready to renovate my first hotel, Tommy'd ended up owning his own company. It was small, but, hell... it was the best he ever got."

You chewed your lower lip anxiously, watching as his eyes slid over to your dusty television, staring at it blankly before he continued.

"So, I hired him. Hired his company to renovate part of the hotel. He even cut me a deal. Thought for once he'd finally pulled his head outta his ass and made somethin' of himself."

Joel fell silent for a few minutes, lost in thought while his fingers fidgeted nervously in his lap.

"Then what happened?" you whispered, worried if you had spoken any louder, it would have snapped him out of it and he would clam back up.

"Then... his company went under. He wasn't doin' shit by the book. Got caught payin' guys under the table and fuckin' up his taxes. And he had to start over."

You connected the dots even before he said, "He came to me lookin' for a loan. Lookin' to fix all his goddamn mistakes, like nothin' ever changed. And... I said no."

"And he never forgave you," you guessed. His eyes found yours and he nodded.

"Yeah. Never forgave me. Said I was turnin' my back on blood. Said he woulda done the same for me. But I just had fuckin' enough. I worked hard to get what I had. So, I refused and he had to move back to Texas. Last I heard he got a loan from our Pop and started a business down there."

You sat in silence for a moment, letting his story sink in with the only noise coming from horns blaring on the street below and your next door neighbor shouting at her husband to wake up for work.

"So... that's the brother story, huh?" you finally said, the corner of your mouth lifting when he met your eye and nodded. You shrugged and scooted closer to him on the couch. "That's not so bad. I understand why you did what you did."

"Had the whole situation goin' on with Sarah's mom at the time, too, but 'course he had no idea. Felt like he never asked me much 'bout my life unless he needed somethin'," he said solemnly.

You snuggled in close and lifted his arm to drape over your shoulders.

"It's never too late, you know," you told him softly. His thumb began to trace invisible circles over your shoulder.

"For what?"

"To make peace. With both of them," you replied. "If you wanted to, anyway. And if you ask me, it sounds like you want to."

"Oh, yeah? And how d'you know that?" Joel teased, pinching your arm and making you giggle.

"Because," you said, tilting your chin to look at him. "If you didn't want to, you wouldn't care so much. You wouldn't have kept all this a secret and you wouldn't think you're a bad person. But what do I know?" you said with a sigh before resting your head against his chest. "I'm just the sugar baby."

Joel's loud laugh echoed throughout your tiny apartment. You grinned when he grabbed your waist and pulled you onto his lap to face him, dark eyes sparkling as he gazed up at you.

"You ain't a sugar baby, and you know it."

"Then what am I?"

He cupped the back of your neck and brought your lips down to meet his in a gentle kiss.

"You're the woman I'm fallin' in love with," he whispered, voice trembling a little. You locked eyes, the surprise and excitement coursing through your veins causing you to smile so wide that it hurt.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he replied with a smile of his own. "Real goddamn inconvenient," he added, making you giggle and press another kiss against his mouth.

"Told you," you said breathlessly. "But we can take things slow, seeing as you're a newbie and all." Joel scoffed and tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

The dam had finally broke. All the secrets and lies were revealed. For better or worse, you both put your hearts in each others hands and trusted that the other would keep it safe.

As if reading your mind, Joel's hand dropped to your chest. He flattened his palm over your rapidly beating heart while you played with the curls on the nape of his neck.

"This is real," he stated softly, voice a little thicker than before. He had a look on his face like he couldn't believe it, and you smiled.

"Yeah, it's real."

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[yakii-m0chi]

Natlan Boys as Fathers

i thought this would be a super cute idea to write !! ever since ororon showed up in the questline and how wholesome his character is, i wanted to write something w/ him and kinich!!

pairings: kinich x reader | ororon x reader (gender neutral)

🦎 Kinich

you were out with him while he was completing a commission.

bby wanted to take you with him bc you wanted to see the saurians and he knew how much you liked it when he swung around with you in his arms

eventually he came across the commission site, and the mother that he was supposed to capture had already passed on

obv he was disappointed since he wouldn't get commission money, but you were sad about something else.

KINICH!

what is it?

IT WAS A BABY SAURIAN :(((

more specifically, it was the baby of the mother who was already dead

devastated was an understatement to how you felt

the baby saurian seemed to cling to you for dear life, seemingly bawling in your grasp

...

look at them! the thing is practically glued onto Y/N for dear life! it's already imprinted on them!

kinich ignored ajaw and looked at you and the saurian, his usual blank expression showing hints of fondness.

he was completely fine with taking care of a saurian, but it wasn't going to be easy.

and he also didn't really want to end up taking care of it for you since he already had a lot going on in his life

you're going to ask me if we can keep it, aren't you?

mhm! look at it, kinich! isn't it cute?

hahaha! of course Y/N would be attached to some lowly crea-

kinich put ajaw into timeout.

ofc he'd let you keep the baby saurian since he saw how happy you looked with it

and he also couldn't resist your pleading gaze

love, you do know how much work taking care of a saurian is, right? you need to feed it, train it, make sure it has a place to sleep, and nurture it.

i know! i'll do all of it!

kinich knew you didn't know until reality settled in, but you'd do anything to keep it.

oh well, at least this was a good practice run when it came to parenting

kinich is such a great saurian dad

everyone knows this already, but he's a super caring guy underneath that blank face

even though he did find himself taking care of the little bby, he still enjoyed how much the saurian seemed to blend into both of your lives

ajaw would sometimes plot with the bby saurian about how to take kinich's body, but it was always met with one of you interrupting his bad influence

(if your bby is a yumkasaur) kinich would teach bby how to swing around and frequently takes it on commissions. he'd probably have your bby blast enemies with flamegranates from a tree since he doesn't want your bby to get hurt

(if your bby is a koholasaur) he'd regularly run cool baths for it to swim around in whenever he didn't have time to take it to the hot springs or rivers. led to a lot of father-baby bathtimes that r so wholesome!

(if your bby is a tepetlisaur) kinich would bring your bby to kachina to go digging together for cool gemstones. one day, kinich had come to pick up your bby since you were busy with your work and saw your bby with kachina splashing around in a whole wheelbarrow of gemstones.

🌱Ororon

oh my BABYYY

MY SWEET PRECIOUS BABY BOY

he loves his aphids, as everyone knows

one day, you end up bonding with a particular aphid that he looks after

he noticed it while he was out growing vegetables and doing maintenance on them

you were playing around with one of the aphids, who seemed to enjoy your head rubs and affection

honey? what are you doing?

oh, just playing around. this lil guy seems to like me a lot.

he couldn't help but huff from amusement, seeing the endearing sight of you playing around

i never thought i'd see the day when an aphid enjoyed someone's affection like that. it's almost acting like a dog.

really? the way he's acting, i thought this was completely normal...

not quite. i tend to give them space so i won't scare them off or defer them. but... it looks like he's fond of you.

ororon was so fascinated

and the funny part is, that aphid kept coming around to your shared home every single day

it was as if you two made a small companion friend, but it wormed its way into your hearts and somehow became like your son

ororon found himself preparing servings of food for the small aphid who dined with you all for every single meal. the little guy even threw fits when food was late

sometimes, the aphid would cuddle with you while you napped. ororon had plenty of photos on his kamera of it, and those are some of his favorite

you two even celebrated major holidays with your aphid, and the aphid went everywhere with you two

merry christmas, my love

merry christmas, ororon. and merry christmas, little one.

*holds out some berries*

oh! that's where they went! you stole them for a gift? for me?

*flies up and down*

he's becoming sentient, darling

so it seems...

to the night kingdom, to the colosseum, to the groceries, around natlan - everywhere

ororon managed to purchase some silk flowers to make fabric for the bby :(

when citali came by, she was so confused lol

lady was like "wtf is a bug doing at the dining table? and why is it eating off of its own plate???"

she was very concerned but then saw how tame it was and didn't feel the need to shoo it off

ororon is a great dad :( bby gives your aphid so much love and care

he's so wholesome too! sometimes when your aphid flies off, he gets a little concerned and worried since he knows how much you love him (and ngl, the aphid grew on him)

protect both of them at all costs

[catzncoffee]

A little FiddleStan AU I cooked up, more information about the AU below the cut!

I'll probably post a few more characters from this AU later!

Aren't they just the cutest couple? (* ´ ▽ ` *)

BADEND FiddleStan Au

> Welcome to BLIND EYE CO. : Unsee It All!

-To Start us off, Ford sends his postcard over to Stanley a lá Canon, and Stanley immediately drops everything to rush up to Gravity Falls all the way from New Mexico, spending his last dime on gas and driving with as little breaks as possible. At this point in time, Fiddleford has left Stanford and is actively going through a divorce and the process of loosing his mind via mind gun overexposure. Stanford is not doing well, paranoid and extremely sleep deprived, watching for Bill in any eye sockets or triangles that flash in the corner of his eyes. None of them are doing well to sum it up.

- Stanley arrives fresh off a no breaks drive to meet with his estranged brother of 10 years, and while not exactly expecting a warm welcome, a crossbow pointed at his head and a flashlight shone in his eyes certainly didn't help set the tone of the meeting. Or help the spinning in his head. Or the Nausea. Frankly he only caught the tail end of Fords very concerning speech, but at least he knew to follow him down the stairs.

-naturally things devolve from there, Ford demanding Stanley take his research and flee while Stanley grapples with the fact that it's all Ford wanted of him. Spiraling into a physical fight once old grudges are dug up from their graves. A Fight that brands Stanley with a symbol he can't even understand, turning something on he didn't even know the danger of. A singular shove that absolutely wrecked Stanley's world, and the last words "Do Something Stanley!" Haunting the room as the portal that his brother built ate him and imploded.

- Fiddleford notices the gravitational anomalies and panics, going into hiding but terrified for Fords safety against his better judgment.

- Stanley spends the next week desperately trying to peice together both the portal and the journals contents, and his mental health takes an even steeper decline. He sits in the same lab going over whatever books he can find and that stupid journal over and over and over until he works on the portal till the next injury or road block, surviving off of whatever canned food both he and Ford combined had left

- Enter Fiddleford, who couldn't bear not to check on Ford after the gravitational anomalies and continued radio silence. Just a confirmation that he wasn't dead, Fiddleford told himself. Nothing more. Stanford deserved no more from him, after all Fiddleford had given. Just a quick safety check in for the sake of an old friend. A knock on the door, however, brought a slow shuffle towards it and opened to reveal a very tired, very devastated..... not Ford? But also Ford? At least he certainly looked like Ford. But Ford had less muscle mass last time Fiddleford saw him. Less hair too, because Stanford? Have a mullet? What sealed it was the normal, five fingered hands that the Not-Ford rubbed his eyes with when Fiddleford demanded, as politely as possible, to know who he was and where Stanford went.

- Fiddleford is invited in and the two sit on a couch Not-Ford cleared off in this waste zone of a house and explains that his name is Stanley, and he's the estranged brother of Ford. Who also happens to be his identical twin. Ford had called him up to help him by taking his stupid journal and running, the two got in a fight, and Ford got sucked in. Fiddleford felt cold panic settle in his gut, thoughts scattered and memories of what was on the other side coming back in nauseating waves, lapping at his consciousness.

- At first Stanely succeeds in getting Fiddleford to help him with the portal, and he's extatic while Fiddleford is decidedly not. However much to Fiddlefords surprise, he isn't forced into the basement, or working on that devil machine, or even couped up in the study to work nonstop. Instead, Stanley gives him a notebook and pen, and gives a description or photo of the exact thing he needs help with, explains to the best of his, admittedly limited, knowledge what the problem is, and has Fiddleford help. Then, Stanley thanks him profusely and dissapears by himself down to the depths of the lab, laving Fiddleford with the glow of the TV and a warm drink.

And it confuses him.

Greatly.

Because there were very few times Ford mention having a twin; Fiddleford could count them on one hand. But Ford had been angry most of those times, other than the one or two when crying and drunk, saying that Stanley had been 'ruled by emotion' and was 'brash with no tact'. But where Ford had been accusatory and sharp, Stanley had been understanding and toned down. There had been very few times over the last few days Stanley had raised his voice, and it was more out of frustration or picking at a touchy subject than anything. And more than that was the way he would shrink just a bit and apologize with enough self loathing that Fiddleford could taste it, sticky and bitter in the back of his throat. Stanford ignored everything when in a project. Stanley only seemed to ignore himself. Stanley was nothing like Stanford had been, and Fiddleford found himself craving those differences more and more, craving more time spent with Stanley, more conversation, more memories, just more Stanley. A pleasant but confusing change, especially when Stanley's features where so similar to Fords.

- Fiddleford would blame the fact that he didn't notice Stanley's condition until much later into staying back at Fords place on the way his mind was still shifting itself into something usable again, however once he noticed he would never stop cursing himself for how he didn't before. Stanley had collapsed in the kitchen, and it had taken nearly all of Fiddlefords mental power to drag the information on his injuries out of Stanley so he could treat them. The poor man had been walking around with that nasty burn treated the best Stanley could, but improperly the whole time, and infection had begun to set in like a bastard. That wasn't even beginning to speak of the malnutrition, dehydration and multiple other bruises and cuts, some yellowed, faded, crusted over, some fresh, purpled and bloodied all on too pale skin. Scars told of a life that was harder than Fiddleford had ever originally thought to think of, questions popping in his mind as he treated the increasingly more worrying Stanley.

And in this Time, Fiddleford was alone with his thoughts.

Fiddleford was here. Again. In Fords house, trying to save him from himself. Again. And frankly he was tired. He'd pushed past his family in favor of Fords shiny promises and stayed far past when he should have, gave more of his knowledge, more of his friendship, hell, more of his heart than he'd ever thought possible. And Ford still always wanted, Needed, more. Fiddleford had felt all that rage for himself and his life over and over, but feeling it for someone else was new. Yet here he was.

Here Stanley was.

Because really, what kind of man gets a call from a man he hasn't seen in 10 years, basically a stranger, one who never talks about him, and drops absolutely everything to help them? New Mexico was a 20 hour drive from Gravity Falls, and Stanley had driven that with the absolute last of his money, no sleep, just driving. Only for Ford to completely dismiss him for the survival of his research over the world. Fiddleford had no idea what Stanley supposedly 'did' when they were younger, like Stanford had vaguely mentioned and Stanely kept saying in a heartbreakingly familiar tone dripping with guilt and self hatred, but Fiddleford could tell from a mile away it was bullshit. Stanford had no reason to hate Stanley so badly. Stanley had no reason he should have helped Ford after God knows what he went through, but he did anyways. Ford? Fiddleford would bet the last of his sanity just to say that Ford wouldn't return the favour. He never had before.

- Fiddleford spirals deeper and deeper as he treats a heavily feverish Stanley, his hatred for Ford growing into a tangible thing the more he thought. And oh, how much simpler this would have all been if he'd simply met Stanley first. Rougher around the edges but kinder. Sweeter. God the way he was so gentle with Fiddleford even though he had no reason to be. The way he'd taken the existence of the memory gun in stride and stated he'd be here if Fiddleford needed support with it. It would be so much easier if Stanley just agreed to shut the portal down forever. Then they could just live. Together, of course, Fiddleford didn't think he could live without Stanley's gruff support now that he'd had it, but just. Simply live. Without the threat of the world, or demons, or weirdness over top of them.

Without the threat of Ford.

Oh how tempting it was, Fiddleford thought, in the days were Stanley was becoming more lucid while still soft and warm due to his sickness, to just simply erase Ford from Stanley's mind. But that would leave too much of a gap, and as he regains his mind bit by bit, Fiddleford begins to come to the conclusion that the memory gun needed a bit of work, yes, but as long as it wasn't over used then it's intended purpose would be served. Over using included, however, memories that were too big to simply pluck out completely. Its where he'd went wrong with his own treatment, and like hell he would leave Stanley to deal with the consequences of that.

Then, in the last few days where Stanley was beginning to move about in small increments as he shook away the last clawing hands of illness away, Fiddleford realized it. He didn't need to erase Ford completely from Stanley's mind.

Fiddleford just had to erase Stanley's love for Ford.

- So, he was patient. Fiddleford waited until Stanley was well, until he walked with full strength and his laugh was full again, until he was sure that the grown affection Stanley had for him after his illness allowed him close enough.

Fiddleford even made sure his memory gun was freshly updated and tuned to the most perfect he'd ever gotten it, making sure the shot would be clean and accurate for his Stanley's sake. Only the best for that man from now on, Fiddleford swore it.

Then he waited until he'd made sure Stanley was relaxed. Had gone out for the day and convinced him to go out to Greasys with Fiddleford. Had taken Stanley for a walk through the woods and laughed as his eyes sparked in excitement even as he cussed out a gnome. Had curled up together, warm and safe on the couch, watching movies and drinking a couple beers. Fiddleford even managed to persuade Stanley away from another long night in the portal room, asking him to stay to sleep for Fiddlefords sake, which Stanley relented to nearly immediately. It was all just such a perfect day. It all just confirmed to Fiddleford that he was absolutely doing the right thing. He'd be happier. Stanley would be happier. And Ford could stay having his horrific adventures on the other side, just like he had seemed to want so badly.

In the dead quiet of that night, Fiddleford pulled the memory gun silently from underneath his pillow, and smiled at Stanley, sleeping soundly on his chest, and fired it directly at Stanley's temple. The only sound Stanley made was a soft exhale, one that Fiddleford chose to believe was relief.

- In the following years, Fiddleford never regretted that choice. Stanley woke up and immediately broke down to Fiddleford, initially panicking him at first thinking he'd broken Stanley, them realized the man was talking about desperately not wanting to bring Ford back, asking Fiddleford if he thought he was horrible for saying so. After that it had been Fiddlefords pleasure to inform his sweet Stanley that not only did he not hate him, but shared his thoughts and truthfully didn't want to open that portal ever again. Things had moved quicker with Stanley dismantling the cursed thing than building it, and Fiddleford hadn't ever been happier. Clearing out Fords house of anything not safe to research or just plain garbage had been so satisfying too, convincing Stanley with little effort to replace any symbol of Bill with quite literally anything else. The Society of the Blind Eye had been a surprise, after all Fiddleford had never expected a group of people to find his scrapped plans or suggest he ever start them, but it was sweet, professional conman Stanley who had suggested making something more out of it. Afterall, Fidds had wanted his own company once, why not start with this?

- With that, BLIND EYE CO. was born, originally starting as a cover for the Society to do their work, growing into a more legitimate business with Fiddlefords inventions and Stanley's charisma faster than they'd thought possible. Fiddleford even continued the Gravity Falls anomaly research to better understand what could cause what, and which things were better of forgotten. Stanley, however, wanted nothing to do with the research of the journal to help with these findings, stating that nothing Ford had made he would ever want to touch, which suited Fiddleford just fine, in fact it delighted him. With Fiddleford and Stanley as both the owners and CEOs of the company( and the Society not that the town knew) it was no wonder the town quickly came to love them and know them, this large company that gave back to the community and was started right here in sleepy little Gravity Falls! How novel.

- Fiddlefords son, Tate, (now allowed to visit since Fiddleford was 'mentally stable') had taken the change badly at first, seeing his father turn from fine to broken to better than ever before, but warmed up once Stanley showed his soft side to him. Tate seemed to like Stanley better than he ever had Ford, which made Fiddlefords heart absolutely soar with happiness. Stanley and Fiddleford, while it wasn't legal to be married just yet, didn't have a solid relationship with the law anyhow and happily wore matching rings with pride. The memory gun is still in use and is consistently upgraded, with Fiddleford being the main figurehead to use it while Stanley happily sat next to him and did whatever he needed.

- Meanwhile in the nightmare realm, things are absolutely not going how Bill Cipher thought. Seriously how the hell was he to know the hillbilly would come back and steal Mackerel away from fixing the portal?! Stanley should have been getting that portal open to get Fordsy not forgetting he ever even liked sixer! Once again that stupid Specs, always messing up Bills progress. He does, however, get a new idea on how to screw with Ford while he's trapped here.

- Ford is greeted randomly, via Bill, with mirrors into his home dimension, taunting him with what's happening just to screw with him as he survives.

And screw with him it does.

Ford watches helplessly as his closest friend and former partner cuddles up to his frantically overworked brother finally at rest, and puts the memory gun to his head, and sees pure Red.

Ford is now hopping though dimensions with a purpose; subdue Bill, get home, cure Stanley, and Kill Fiddleford. And he won't stop until he does.

- Enter Mabel and Mason(Dipper) Pines, sent to their Grunkle 'Stanford' and his husband for the summer, when Dipper finds a journal that seems to have a page of a diffrent kind of paper hes never seen sticking out. The note holds an incantation written in the same cursive as the journal, and details preforming a spell on a mirror, labelled simply as EMERGENCY CONTACT NEEDED. Upon doing the incantation, the children are met with a shadow in the mirror telling them he's their trapped uncle, he's trying to get back to someone named 'Stanley' Pines, dont make deals with yellow triangles and above all else:

Do NOT Trust FIDDLEFORD

Do NOT Trust 'STANFORD'

TRUST NO ONE

Welcome to Gravity Falls!~☆

[vivwritesfics]

Handheld Camera

Tyler's best friend and camera person screwing a member of Storm Par? More likely than you think

Warnings: smut, p in v, hate fucking I guess, sex tape, unprotected sex, possible pregnancy

2.7K

"What're you doing?"

The handheld camera was pointed at Tyler as he walked towards her. When he stepped forward, she stepped back, keeping all of him in frame.

It had been a good ride, and she had videoed all of it. Both rounds were on her camera, ready for to be edited and gifted to Tyler. He reached for it, trying to snatch it out of her hands, but she stepped back.

"Come on, Ty!" She said as she stopped filming and put the camera down. "These are gonna be gold when you're a famous bull rider."

That had him grinning as he wrapped his arms around her and led her back to his truck. He wasn't going to tell her that he was rethinking a career as a bull rider, that he was thinking of going to school.

She spent the night clipping up the videos, perfecting the audio and piecing them together. She could have posted it online, drawn more people to Tyler's name.

But she held back. That was a conversation for later.

A conversation that would never come. Before she knew it, Tyler was off to study meteorology and she was, well, left behind.

Left in Oklahoma, working in her parents cafe. She watched the sky as she wiped down tables, thinking of him. Did he miss her as much as she was missing him?

Of course, he came home in the holidays. But he wasn't riding, anymore. He just watched storms, chased them.

At first, she was reluctant to go with him. Why would she throw herself into danger like that? But it had never been easy, saying no to Tyler Owens. Not when he gave her that look that guaranteed fun.

On the first chase, she'd been too scared to do anything other than hold onto her seat. On the second chase, she'd had her camera out the entire time, filming the storm and Tyler.

He was so natural in front of the camera, his personality shining. An idea sparked in her head, one that wouldn't come to fruition just yet.

That came after college, when Tyler was home for good. He was a little lost in what to do next, wanted to do something meaningful with his life. A terrible time to bring up storm chasing on YouTube.

But then they drove through a town, so full of devastation. They stopped, helped where they could, but there wasn't much. Finding people and lost pets.

That was when the idea came to life.

"We start a storm chasing YouTube Channel. We live stream, take the footage for the streams, and clip them up into videos. Ty, we could make so much money." He opened his mouth to protest, but she beat him to it. "And that money could go towards helping people. People who have been ruined by tornadoes."

Tyler went to shake his head, but then he thought about it. "You'd handle the filming and the editing, and I get to just chase storms?"

A grin split across her face. "Exactly, Ty."

He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, looking like some fucked up rabbit. "I'm gonna regret this," he mumbled and shook his head. "I have a condition."

"Lay it on me."

He stared at her, green eyes sparkling as he let his grin match her own. "I get to put my face on a tee-shirt."

***

Storm Par.

They weren't exactly trouble, more a nuisance. Always getting in the way of a good chase. It made for entertaining videos, if they were allowed to upload them.

They couldn't help what they captured on livestream. But that email she had received from a member of the Storm Par legal team had her editing the white trucks out of any clips she had before she uploaded them onto YouTube.

She remembered the first time she laid eyes on him.

Her camera was in front of her face, capturing footage of the storm to later use in the video. It was beautiful, something she didn't understand as well as Tyler.

But then she zoomed out, captured the storm with the wheat field beneath it. And the man in the hat and sunglasses. The tall man, who she could tell was scowling. He didn't even need to remove his glasses.

Ending the recording, she lowered the camera and looked at him. "Can I help you?" She asked, voice a little snippier than she meant for it to be.

He pulled his glasses off of his nose and let his expression soften as he looked at her. What was he thinking? What thoughts were turning over in his mind.

"You like storms?" He asked. For just a second, it sounded like a pickup line.

She looked down at her camera? "Like storms?" A grin crossed her face. "Oh, no. I record them because I hate them."

The sarcasm wasn't missed. It wasn't unappreciated, either. He stepped closer and tucked his glasses into the breast pocket of his white shirt. "I actually chase storms," he said. "As my job."

"Really?" Her eyebrows shot up. This was before Storm Par and Tyler's little gang of chasers were really aware of each other. They knew one another was out there, getting in each others way, but not more than that. "Must be exciting."

"It is," he answered. "You get right up close to the danger."

"Is that all you do? Just chase them?"

He shook his head. "My team and I study them. We collect data on them to... help people." The way he said it, the way he paused. He knew he was spouting shit.

Before she could say anything more to the man from Storm Par (their hottest member, if you held a gun to her head and asked her), Tyler called her name. "We gotta go!" He shouted.

The man's eyes widened. "See ya, Storm Par," she said and saluted to him with just two fingers. She left him standing there as she ran over to Tyler's truck and climbed into the passenger seat.

They encountered each other on the chase, him staring at her through the window. Every time she pointed her camera at him, he looked back at the road.

Storm Par turned left at the fork in the road, and they turned right. Storm Par's tornado died, but theirs stayed strong. She buckled herself in and held the camera up as they drove into the tornado.

Storm Par parked up at the same motel they did. She locked eyes with him as she climbed out of the truck.

It was almost like he couldn't stop himself as he strode towards her. "You work with a bunch of cowboys," he said and chewed the gum in his mouth.

She released a flirtatious giggle. "Thank you," she said and blinked at him. His sunglasses no longer sat on his face and she could finally see his pretty eyes. They really were pretty. "You work with a bunch of stuck up assholes." She looked him up and down. "And you're the biggest stuck up asshole of them all."

Suddenly she was against the wall and his lips were against hers. The way she ran her fingers through his hair was almost feverish, knocking his hat from his head as he pressed his hips against hers.

"I can't fucking stand you," he growled out between kisses.

"I hate you too."

But he pulled her away from the wall and up to his room. It was nothing fancy, just a bed, a television, and a dingy bathroom. It was an exact copy of her own room, but that wasn't what she cared about at he threw her onto the bed.

That night was the first time they hooked up. He pulled down her jeans and discarded them on the floor, along with her shirt. She didn't even know his name as she rolled onto her stomach.

He grabbed her hips and held her up, thumb stroking over her skin as he entered her. That was sweet. The kisses he dropped onto her back were sweet.

But that was where the sweetness stopped. He snapped his hips against hers, setting a brutal pace. The bed beneath them squeaked, but it was drowned out by her whines and moans, her cries for more.

He grunted, tipping his head back. Sweat dripped down his face and his grip on her was bruising. She was loving every second of it.

Her legs spasmed, giving out ad she came. She clenched around him, the only thing holding her up being his strong grip. But he kept coming, kept burning the tip of his cock between her spongy walls.

But he was getting sloppy, his thrusts deeper, holding himself inside of her for longer. His breaths came out in short pants, spilling himself inside of her.

Breathless, he let go of her, let her collapse onto the bed. He fell down beside her, neither of them touching.

Her mouth was dry, throat somewhat sore as she looked at him. This wasn't how things were supposed to be post sex. She shivered as she shuffled closer, not close enough to touch.

"What's your name?" She asked, the question barely audible.

"Scott," he answered and shuffled back against the headboard.

The way he was staring down at her, she couldn't tell what he wanted. If he wanted her to get up and leave, or stay for a moment longer and tell him her name.

She was thinking too hard and too much, Scott decided as he scooted down the bed. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her against his chest. "This can't happen again," he said as she let her hand settle against his beating heart.

"No," she agreed, voice croaking. "It can't."

Spoiler alert, it happened again.

They weren't always after the same tornado, weren't always on the same chase. But every time that red truck pulled in where they were, Scott couldn't help the way his heartbeat quickened.

If they were chasing the same storm, they ended up in each others bed.

At first, it was just sex. Sex with cuddling after (because Scott knew she needed it). But it turned into something more when he sat there reading while she edited their videos.

"I've had an idea," she said one evening as she let Scott into her hotel room. Her camera was in her hand, held down by her side.

Scott's stomach dropped. "We're not making a sex tape," he immediately said as he sat on the bed and toed off his shoes.

Sinking into his lap, she wrapped her arms around him. "C'mon, Scott. I just want to get a quick video of how hot you look while I'm riding you. Just for the Scott files."

The Scott files. A collection of every time she had edited him out of their videos. The collection of angry faces had turned into him unable to hide his smile.

Grinning, she pushed him down onto the bed. Scott held her hips as he looked up at her, the camera already in front of her face. The red light flashed as she began moving her hips.

Scott squeezed her hips but gave nothing away on his face. So, she put the camera down and unbuttoned his shirt.

He laid there, let her work. She unbuttoned his shirt and let it fall open. Grabbing the camera, she held it in front of her face once again, filming herself dragging her nails down his chest.

Throwing his head back, Scott let out a throaty moan. She caught it all on camera.

She opened his trousers and freed him. Scott sucked in a breath as she wrapped her fingers around him. The camera stayed focused on his face as she pumped her hand once, twice and then released him.

His eyes flew open and he glared down at her. But it was short lived. She put down the camera and began stripping off. The moment she grabbed the bottom of her shirt, Scott reached for the camera and held it up, capturing her as she stripped.

She was gorgeous. Scott already knew that, but this he wanted to keep forever.

Dropping her underwear, she reached for the camera once again. "Give it," she said and snatched it away from him.

Sitting on his lap, she concentrated the camera back on his face and ground against him. "Fuck," he breathed and reached for her hips. "Please, cowgirl."

Cowgirl. When had he started calling her that? It had started as an insult, she knew that much. But she loved it. Lifting her hips, Scott positioned himself beneath her and she sank herself down onto him.

Scott sucked in a breath. The camera was trained on him as she began to move. He gripped her hips, helping her to keep a steady rhythm.

She tried to keep the camera trained on Scott as she rode him. But it kept dropping, and it took her a moment to get it focused back on his face. But Scott took the camera from her hands. He put it down on the bed, pulled her to lay against him, and took charge.

The camera kept recording on the bed. It didn't capture much, and the audio wasn't as clear as she wanted it to be. When Scott came, throwing his head back, the camera just about caught it.

***

"Have you got yesterdays footage?" Tyler asked as he walked into her motel room.

Folding her arms over her chest, she grinned as she looked at her best friend. "Yesterdays footage, huh?" She asked and cocked her eyebrow. "What do you want with that?"

Tyler held his hands up in defence, but he was grinning. "Just science, I swear," he said quickly.

Just science and Kate was how she read it. Ever since they'd met Kate, Tyler had requested more footage than he usually wanted to see. But she didn't mind. Tyler was a lonely guy; she was going to do anything she could to help him get some.

"Yeah, it's on my laptop," she said and pointed to her desk.

Tyler walked over to the laptop. He opened the lid and typed in her password (of course he knew it, it was the same password as their YouTube Channel).

The laptop took a moment to load up. It was old, and she was putting a small fund together to get a new one, a better one for video editing. Her editing software opened, the screen blank for a moment.

But then the last thing she was working on, the last video she was editing, came up on her laptop.

"What the hell is this?"

She turned on her heel. There it was on her laptop screen, the video she had taken all those weeks ago. The editing process had been slow, since Scott would watch over her shoulder, start kissing her neck and pull her onto the bed.

Tyler looked back at her. He knew the face on the screen, the man that was staring at the camera as he moaned. "Is that Storm Par?" He asked. "Are you sleeping with Storm Par?"

She swallowed. But then she steadied herself, holding her head up high. "So what if I am?"

Tyler shrugged his shoulders. "Sleep with whoever," he said and clicked out of the editing software, minimising the screen. He didn't need to be seeing that. "As long as he's good to you and you're not getting hurt, you can sleep with who you want."

She released a deep, relieved breath. Hiding all of this from Tyler had been no easy task. She'd almost slipped up, almost mentioned something 'she and Scott' had seen the night before.

Tyler opened his arms and she fell into them, holding her best friend close. "He's not hurting you, is he?"

She shook her head. "He's good to me, Ty," she mumbled and shut her eyes. It felt so good to be in Tyler's arms again.

Neither of them were aware of how late her period was.

[justpeaxchy]

'Why not me?'

Warnings: Jealousy, a "little" misunderstanding between Hiccup and reader.

A/n: !Fem reader! I recommend reading this as a part two to this short writing I did, but either way it can be read on its own! This was originally intended as a separate work but here we are ig lol.

Hiccup's eyes followed your figure once more, watching as you hauled more wood for another house that was "accidentally" burned down again. The report came rather quickly that the Twins had performed another prank and it somehow led to a "small" devastation, as they called it, on a viking's innocent home. You called for Astrid again, who was managing Stormfly as she carefully placed down the pieces needed for the home to repair it, and gestured to the new pile of wood that lay on the ground. She nodded and went back to her work with a glare sent towards the two twins who merely stood next to the burnt heap, giggling among themselves.

He wouldn't admit it, but Hiccup had been noticing more of Berk starting to flock around you as they had finally seen the two of you spend more time together. It brought a certain emotion he couldn't quite pinpoint. For one, most of them only started talking to you since they recognized you as someone now "close" to the Chief. On the other hand, they only wanted to get closer with you because of your connection. Everyone knew Hiccup on Berk, so he was puzzled - and a tad bit angry - that a good portion of them acted as though you never even existed and he was someone on a higher pedestal because of the position handed down to him.

Of course, on the outside, it looked as though they were treating him as normally as they would've before - with the due respect for a Chief - but Hiccup noticed the slight difference, especially with you. He didn't know if you did though. It bothered him in a way he couldn't vocalize it, unusually so. He had barely begun developing his relationship with you, taking the small steps you needed; the ones he was more than willing to take.

So, when these people decided to come in and sneak their way down the path he treaded with you - it made him upset him in more ways than one. He even heard Snotlout ogle over you at one point. He had heard his fanatics before but, for some strange reason, it brought him to the conclusion of physically pushing him out of the Forge where he was trying to gather his thoughts in peace.

Hiccup fumbled with the charcoal pencil in his hand, trying to drown out the noise around him that was the daily turmoil of vikings. He told himself to stay focused on the sketch someone had wanted for a new saddle before handing it off to Gobber - that was supposed to be the plan. His idea of having himself under control for the day were seemingly forgotten as he managed to steal a swift glance in your direction.

Out of everything, Hiccup Haddock did not expect for himself to act up when someone offered to help take the load of wood out of your arms. Perhaps he would've felt better if it wasn't Eret son of Eret who had willingly taken it out of your arms. Hiccup knew he wasn't losing his eyesight when he had seen Eret's hands lightly brush yours when he took the burden of wood out of your hands. It puzzled the Chief as to why he was even feeling this way.

Hiccup wasn't blind or numb to the fact that Eret, ever since he arrived at Berk, was known for his physique and his striking appearance. As well as being a dragon trapper in the past, of course. Sudden thoughts came to Hiccup's mind as he watched the short interaction between you two, not understanding the emotion that gripped his heart when he had seen your smile to the man who offered you his help. He knew that you were getting used to smiling more - he was the one who told you to try it out more - but he pondered over the question in his head that wouldn't leave him alone: Why did it take you longer to smile at him like that?

As if Hiccup's body moved on its own, he called for Toothless, who had been resting by his side in the Forge, and stomped his way to your direction. You were busy directing Astrid for where she should place the wood on top of the house just in case she missed a spot or didn't put it down correctly. You hadn't expected for a hand to grab yours, with such urgency and yet clothed with a gentle tug, to pull you away from the task you were occupied with. "Hey! What is this-"

Your words were interrupted as you caught Hiccup pulling you closer to his side as he called out for the Twins, "Ruff, Tuff! You're going to be the ones to handle this. It was your doing and the least you could do is tell Astrid where to go from here, okay?" He gave them no time for a proper response, other than the annoyed grumbling that came, as he led you beside Toothless. Confusion clouded your mind as your eyes followed him hauling himself on the night fury and reach out his hand for yours as if telling you to do the same.

"Hiccup, you know I have my own dragon, right-" He swiftly grabbed your hand that was slowly reaching out for his in the middle of your speech as he remained silent, "And I guess that doesn't matter because-" Your startled scream soon took over as Toothless shot into the air without warning, causing you to cling onto Hiccup with all of your strength you could possibly muster. It made you question how he could so easily ride the night fury - being that they were known to be the fastest dragon alive. "H-hey! Where are we going?"

Hiccup lightly patted your hand that was settled on his waist, his gaze not moving from the scenery around him. "Just wait a bit, you'll see." He muttered something to Toothless that you couldn't catch due to the high speeds of wind blowing across your face, making you even more nervous. You trusted Hiccup, of course, but sometimes it was obvious that the 'odd' side of himself could get a little carried away. So, you did the only thing you could do in that moment: hold on as tightly as you could as Toothless dived into a deeper part of the woods.

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

"Ah, so this is where you found him." Your legs shakily wobbled off of the night fury who cooed at your ruffled form. Your hair wasn't as neat as you had it before, making you slightly annoyed before turning to Hiccup. "So.. why bring me here?" You carefully inspected him as he hopped off Toothless, much more better than you had, and nervously swing his arms as he normally did in a situation that left him feeling awkward or anxious.

"Why? Oh, you know - just - wanted to spend some time with you. I mean, do you want to spend time with me? Because you don't have to if-" He rubbed the back of his neck as he spoke when he noticed you rolling your eyes at his statement.

"Hiccup, it's too late for me to go back now. You practically dragged me out here on the back of a dragon and I would much rather fly back to Berk than walk." You knew it wasn't a far ways off, but you didn't entirely feel like going all the way back when your legs were recovering from being shot into the air so quickly, "Also, you didn't really give me much of a choice."

You gazed at his hands that seemingly didn't know what do at the moment, hesitating at the thought of grabbing them. "Yeah, I realize that now. That's my fault, sorry." Hiccup muttered out the phrase as if he had been caught doing a scandalous act before stepping closer to you as he crossed his arms over his chest. "I just-" He paused, inhaling as he considered his next words, "I just happen to notice that you've been more.." Another pause; "Occupied with the work load that's been piling up on you recently."

Hiccup inwardly cringed at his reasonings, knowing that it wasn't a good enough excuse as you narrowed your eyes. "Yes? I mean, what do you want me to do? Sit around all day and hope I make some coins by doing nothing?" You sighed and carefully took a step closer to him, the distance between you two slightly bothering you. "I don't want to be like I was before; standing around and barely getting by because of the leftover chores Berk left for me."

Your eyes never left him as he continued to settle on looking at the ground. "Anyway, aren't you the Chief? Shouldn't I be the one saying this to you? I know you've probably got a lot on your shoulders too, not just me." You tried lightening up the mood as Hiccup gently shook his head, a ghost of a smile appearing on his lips before it faded once more.

"I know it sounds stupid." He exhaled, as if trying to breathe away the thing that was bothering him, "I'm sorry, but don't you think people should... I don't know.." He shrugged his shoulders, trying to play his next words off casually, "Give you more personal space..?" Hiccup took the risk and glanced up to see your reaction, which wasn't what he expected.

You snorted, then giggled, then covered your mouth as laughter consumed you, watching the way Hiccup's gaze falter slightly as he took in the sight. "What? Personal space?" You tried your best to grasp in what little air you could as your laughter rang throughout the small cove you two were in. "What're you getting at, Hiccup?" A sudden thought came to mind as you smirked, taking another step closer to the Chief; the nervousness that threatened you earlier having been disappeared. "I hope you're not forgetting when I asked for my own personal space when you came and decided to visit me almost every single day."

Hiccup groaned and rubbed his face, as though a headache were arising. "You know it's not like that! That's not what I meant-" He struggled to speak coherently when your small doses of laughter filled his ears. "Do you like the attention or something? I mean, when Eret touched your hand you seemed pretty okay with it to me." The realization of what he said had finally came to Hiccup before he quickly waved his hands, noticing your smile dim away, "Wait! That's not what I meant-"

"Okay, Hiccup. What're you really getting at? You should know me enough that I won't go out of my way to get the attention of people that I wouldn't want to talk to." You huffed, slightly hurt at the idea that crossed Hiccup's mind. "And I didn't ask for Eret to help me, he was just kind enough to take that load of wood from me - which was very heavy by the way." You crossed your arms, stubbornly taking a step away from him as he decided to take two more steps closer.

"I'm sorry, that was my fault - again - but I didn't mean it in that way. I know that is the complete opposite of who you are, but I-" Hiccup sighed, forcing himself to see what was actually wrong with him. "I think I'm not used to all of these people coming in and talking with you and working with you like they've been friends with you since birth. I guess I got used to-"

Hiccup managed to catch himself before uttering anything else, causing you to questioningly narrow your eyes at him. "Got used to what, Chief?" You held back another burst of laughter at the flustered state of the man before you, watching with intent eyes every gesture he made with his hands.

"N-nevermind. How about we go back and I'll let you work in peace and I won't bother you about it anymore." He reached out for your arm as he began to pull you towards Toothless. "C'mon, here we go-" Hiccup winced as you suddenly maneuvered his hand off your arm with a twist, causing him to let go of your arm as he spun around. "Why would you do that?"

You grinned, the atmosphere from earlier forgotten as you dusted yourself off from imaginary dirt. "Tell me what you were going to say." When he tried to escape the situation with more rambling you cracked your fingers, intimidatingly stepping forward, "Say it."

Hiccup kicked the ground like a toddler as he shook his head. "You're so stubborn.." He barely managed to see your hand getting closer to his ear as you threatened to pinch them before he stepped to the side, potentially saving himself from even more pain. "Alright, alright! Just don't get the ears!" He protectively covered the sides of his face as you triumphantly grinned, awaiting his answer.

"Look, I guess I got used to.." He found himself looking at the ground once more as he spoke. "Having you more to myself." He purposefully mumbled the last bit of his speech, hoping he could somehow get away with it. Much to his despair, however, you still listened to every word.

He heard your footsteps approaching to where he stood and he glanced up to see a delicate smile taking over your features before your hand reached out for his. You held it as if you were handling a precious piece of glass, carefully lifting it away from his side. "Is that really what you think?" Your eyes held a sincerity to them that Hiccup couldn't ignore, making his heart beat slightly faster than before.

When all he could do was nod, you finally took it upon yourself to be the one to hug him first - which you gladly did the moment he gave you his answer. You found yourself smiling into his shoulder as he stood still in his spot for a moment. "Hiccup, just know I'll never be able to look at them in the way I view you. They can't replace what you did, no matter how hard they might try."

When you felt his arms embrace you in return, you couldn't help but let the smile on your face continue to grow as he sighed, his breath fanning your neck in - what sounded like - relief. "Are you upset with me?"

"Not anymore. Maybe if you gave me a kiss I'd be over the moon. But, hey, that's just me." You chuckled when you heard nothing but silence come from him, assuming he was too much in a flustered state to respond.

You squeezed him one final time before letting him go. The weight of your words hadn't settled in until you stepped away from him, causing you to fumble with your hair. "So, we should - probably - uhm, head back -"

Hiccup, noticing your actions, nodded once more before swiftly taking your hand in his as he lead you both back to Toothless. You told yourself not to be consumed with the fluttering of your heart by his simple move, but it became much more of a challenge when he stopped in front of his dragon to face you.

"One more thing before we go." Hiccup pulled you closer to him by your hand he had grabbed, officially closing any remaining distance between you both as his lips met yours. You didn't expect it, which caused you to nearly trip on your own feet before his other arm caught you, still engaged in the kiss as though it had never happened. If you weren't imagining things, you could've sworn you felt him smile in the midst of it all.

You were breathless as he, unfortunately, pulled away from you, gazing intently at your flustered form before guiding you onto Toothless. "So, you're definitely not angry now, right?"

You rolled your eyes as Hiccup readied himself on Toothless, glancing back at you for an answer. "I already said I wasn't..." You folded your arms, making yourself now look like the toddler as he snickered and turned forward.

"Well, you might want to hang on." He gleefully muttered something to Toothless as you stubbornly held your position, which was not hanging onto him at all. When he came to the conclusion that you were rather grumpily not obliging to him, he tapped his dragon to silently tell him to leave.

It was only when Toothless had darted up in the air that you screamed and tightly held onto Hiccup for your dear life, which he quite enjoyed.

[callumsturn]

Longing

Summary: Bucky is feeling down, and you're the only one who can bring him back to himself. Warnings: smut (18+, minors don't interact), fingering. Notes: Let me know if you'd like me to write any specific scenarios or stories :) reblogs and comments are appreciated!

Major John Bucky Egan was devastated. The news of Buck not returning from his last mission spread quickly at the base camp. You saw people try to talk to him and cheer him up in their own way, but Bucky was drenched in alcohol most of the time and with huge dark bags under his eyes. You decided it was your turn to try and bring his hopes up. Couldn't hurt.

You knocked on his door, calling out his name from the outside.

Bucky lifted his head from where he sat at the table, looking up at you with slightly bleary eyes. He cleared his throat as he pulled himself together, trying to sober up in mere seconds. "Yeah?" he asked, his voice gruff. You peered inside his room.

You knew he would brush you off if you asked if he was okay. Instead, you made him believe you needed him. "Do you mind if I come in and stay with you for a little? I can't sleep."

Bucky paused for a moment, seeming just tired enough to fall for your trick. He shifted slightly in his seat, nodding slowly as he sat up. "Yeah. Yeah, come here." he pointed to his bed. "Sit with me."

"Thanks." you spoke as you closed the door behind you and sat next to him.

Bucky watched wordlessly as you sat down next to him, leaning forward and resing his elbows on his knees. He was quiet for a moment before he spoke. "You said you couldn't sleep?" he questioned, tilting his head slightly so he could look at you.

You nodded. "Yeah... I had coffee, more than one cup."

He chuckled lightly, running a hand through his messy hair. "Yeah, that'll do it to ya. Caffeine's a cruel mistress like that."

"Well, I wanted some. So I had it."

"And now you have to suffer the consequences." he mused along, taking a few moments to look you over. "You look tired." he pointed out, as if it wasn't obvious.

"Thanks." you chuckled.

Bucky smirked ever so slightly, rolling his eyes. "You know what I mean. You look exhausted. When was the last time you got a full night of sleep?"

You looked at him for a second before answering. "It's been a while, actually. The infirmary's been a complete chaos lately."

His expression softened, a flicker of concern in his eyes. "When's the last time you clocked off?" he asked, a hint of protective tone in his voice.

You looked at him for a while. "It's been a couple of weeks, but it's alright, we're short on staff! And it's not like I haven't done it before!"

That answer didn't seem to appease Bucky at all. His lips pressed into a firm, unamused line and he fixe you with a stern look. "Bullshit. It's not alright. You're runnin' yourself into the ground. How many hours did you work this week?" he inquried.

"I'm not exactly counting."

Bucky sighed in frustration, shaking his head. "Of course you're not." He paused for a moment, studying you. You could almost see the gears turning as he thought about what to say next. "When's the last time you ate?" he finally questioned.

"C'mon John, I'm eating alright." you insisted.

The Major shot you a doubtful look, his expression serious. "I'm being serious. You look like you haven't had a proper meal in weeks. When's the last time you ate a full meal?"

"Maybe you can eat lunch with me tomorrow."

"I'm not asking that." he said with a sigh, his voice just barely above a whisper. "I want to know when the last time you ate a full goddamn meal was. Tell me the truth."

You looked at the door. "Yesterday, I think."

Bucky raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical of your response. "Yesterday?" he repeated. "You think?"

"Bucky, I'm alright. I'm just really tired."

His irritation grew tenfold at this, his patience at an all-time low. "You ain't alright, you're being reckless." he retorted gruffly. "Look at you, you look like a damn zombie. 'I'm just tired' my ass."

You let the room fall silent for a few seconds. "And how are you?" you finally decided to ask.

Bucky almost froze at the question. He was a mess, even he could see that for himself. For a moment, he thought about brushing off your question. Giving the standard, generic answer. But he couldn't. He knew how he was, and you deserved the truth more than anything. "Like garbage." he finally admitted, quietly after a few moments.

"I'm worried about you Bucky." you began. "You barely come by the infirmary anymore."

He lokoed down, docusing his eyes on his hands as you spoke. "I've been busy." he mumbled half heartedly, knowing damn well it was a blatant lie.

"Too busy to visit me?" you simply asked.

Bucky internally winced at that, his heart aching. "No." he said, his voice cracking slightly from guilt. "I- I just... it's hard, y'know?"

You nodded. "I get it. I can go by just fine without your visits." you tried to win him over with humor.

It seemed to work, even just slightly. He lifted his head, looking at you with a tired hino of playful sarcasmo in his eyes. "Is that so?" he questioned, a soft smile on his face.

"Oh I'm sure of it. It's been real peaceful without you pestering me at work."

He huffed, a soft chuckled escaping his lips. "That's rich, coming from you. You're always bugging me." he pointed out, shifting in his seat to get a different angle of you.

"But that you love."

"You're making that up." Bucky denied, though his smirk didn't falter. He tried so hard to ignore the flutter in his heart he got as he looked at you - his gaze almost involuntarily flicking down for a moment to your lips.

"I don't think I am." you smiled at him.

He paused, his heart giving another flutter as he saw you smile. It'd been a while since he'd seen that smile. He chuckled softly, shaling his head and running his hand through his hair. "You drive me crazy, you know that?"

Your expression of surprise came quickly to your face. After a few seconds in silence you spoke again. "You're drunk." You chuckled at him.

Bucky let out another soft huff at that, but he didn't deny it. "Maybe a little." he admitted, that smirk on his face returning. "And what about it?"

"You're not making sense, that's what."

Bucky raised an eyebrow at that, looking at you with an amused expression. "And what about it doesn't make sense?" he asked, tilting his head slightly. "I said you drive me crase. You do."

"Bucky..." you started but he interrupted you as he got closer to you, before grabbing your hand gently.

His calloused hand wrapping around yours like it belonged there. He was quiet for a moment, looking at you with a mixture of affection and something else you couldn't quite put your finger on. He almost looked a little nervous.

"Are you okay?" you asked.

Another loaded question.

He opened his mouth to answer but stopped himself. His gaze falls from your face down to his hand holding yours. Bucky was quiet for a few more moments, his grip on your hand almost imperceptibly tighter. His tongue darted out to lick his lips, the words stuck in his throat. He took a shaky breath, lifting his gaze back up to your face. "No. " he finally said, shaking his head slightly as he did. "I'm not okay." His expression serious. "But you make it hurt a little less."

Bucky's eyes flicked back and forth, analising your features. He sighed softly, his guard completely down. "Look at me." he softly insisted, his voice barely above a whisper.

You did as he asked, first his eyes and then his lips. God, he was handsome, specially under the dim lights of his room.

"You have no idea," he said, his voice low, "how hard it was to stay away from you the past few weeks."

His hand kept around your own as he spoke. He could be so gentle if he wanted to. Bucky softly tun his thumb in small circles against the back of your hand, trying to focus on that instead of the growing urge within himself. "I missed you so damn much." he murmered, his voice just barely above a whisper.

You cut him off by closing the gap between your lips.

He let out a soft, almost involuntary sound as he returned the kiss, his free hand moving to cup your face. His hand fently tugged you closer, as if he was afraid you'd pull away.

In turn, you grabbed his uniform's shirt tight between your fingers, pulling him closer to you.

Any thoughts of restraint or resistance melted out of Bucky's brain the moment he felt you grab him. His hand moved to your waist, his grip firm as he pulled you into his lap. "God, I missed you." he mumbled against your lips.

You didn't respond, just climbed on his lap and grabbed the nape of his neck with both your hands, never breaking the kiss you two shared.

Bucky let out another soft sound as you did. His hands sliding to your hips, the feeling of your body against his nearly overwhelming. He kissed you passionately, his tongue gently running along your bottom lip as if he was pleading for more.

He broke your kiss only to kiss your neck, your head rolled back as he catched it with one of his hands.

Bucky's kisses gently yet firm, as he moved along your skin. He could hear the sound of your breath catching in yout throat, his brain nearly short-circuiting from yout little sounds of pleasure.

One of his hands found its way under your dhirt, his fingers tracing along the warm skin of your back.

His hands were rough on your back, but you didn't mind it.

Bucky's lips returned to yours, his kisses a bit more desperate now. He wanted to be closer to you, to have your body against his. One of his hands slid up your body, gently resting against your ribcage. His thumb lightly teased against the underside of your breast.

His touch sent shivers through your whole body.

He broke the kiss for a moment, his chest heaving with want. "You're so damn Beautiful." he murmured, his hand gently gripping your hip as he kept you against him.

You moaned quietly at his words, the way he was holding you down on his lap by your hips was making you dizzy.

He noticed your reaction, the soft sounds of your monas driving him wild. He used his grip on your hip to push you down to grind against him slightly, a soft smirk on his face. "You like that?" he asked, his voice gruff.

You nodded out of desperation.

Bucky let out a soft chuckle, rolling his hips against you to give you a but more friction. "You can't even speak, huh?" he taunted you lightly.

"I can speak." you managed to say quietly.

"Then try sayin' something." he mumbled against the skin of your neck, continuing to push his hips against you ever so slightly.

"Your hands." you pleaded him.

You heard his groan, his grip on your hips tightening as he took in your request. "What about my hands?" he mumbled, his lips moving down from your neck to your collarbone.

You let go of his neck to grab his right hand and position it near your core.

He could feel the heat practically radiating from you, the thought alone nearly sending him over the edge. His fingers gently traced along the edge of your pants, as if he was silently asking you for permission to continue. You gave it to him.

Bucky wasted no time. He was a man of action after all.

He pushed your pants to the Side, his fingertips ghosting along your soaked core. He let out another soft moan against your skin, the feeling of you driving him crazy. "You're so wet, darling." he mumbled as he started to rub small circles, moving slowly to work you up even more.

Your reactions, the little sounds you were making, the way you were grinding against his hand - it was almost too much for him to handle. His fingers teased at your entrance, occasionally slipping inside to drive you absolutely crazy. "I could listen to you all night." he mumbled, his voice low and rough with want.

"John" you trailed off.

Bucky lifted his head from your neck to look at you, his fingers still working at you. "Yeah?" he breathed out, doing his damned bect to keep some control of himself.

"I need you."

Bucky practically groaned at the sound of your voice, the want in your tone nearly making his head spin with a primal need to bury himself inside you. "Say it again." he told you breathlessly, adding a second finger inside you.

You only managed to moan louder.

"God you sound perfect." his lips just below your car. "I need you so bad it hurts."

"Please" you whined quietly.

"You don't ever have to ask me please." his voice sincere.

He lifted his head to look at you, his breathing ragged. His fingers curling slightly on their own, making you let out another delicious sound.

"Make me come." the words come out of your tired mouth.

He moved his fingers faster, adding a third, knowing exactly what to do based on the sounds you were making. "I'll take care of you. "he assured you. "I'll take care of you, I promise."

And he did. In a matter of seconds, you were coming undone on top of his lap.

Bucky watched intently as you came, his fingers working you through it. He then gently removed his hand, bringin it to his mouth and licking his fingers clean with a low moan.

His free hand moved to gently brush the hair from your face, his thumb tracing your cheek as he looked at you with affection and desire.

You looked down at him after that. "What is it?"

Bucky chuckled, gently lifting your chin for you to look at him. "You look so damn beautiful when you're all flushed like this." he told you, a hino of pride in his voice as he added, "I did that."

"Yes you did." you chuckled quietly.

His smiled returned, his hand moving to cup your cheek ever so gently. He was quiet for a moment, just studying you as he tried to find the right words. "I've been a real idiot, sweetheart." he finally said, his voice soft. "I shoud've come by sooner..."

"Don't worry about that."

"I do worry. You've gotta stop lettin' me be a dumbass, you know that?"

"Me?" you chuckled. "I have nothing to do with that!"

Bucky's grip on you tightened, his expression still serious. "Bullshit." he insisted, shaking his head. "You have everything to do with that. You could set me straight if you wanted to, I'd listen to you in a heartbeat."

You smiled at him. "The I'll be wiser with my choices from now on."

John returned your smile with a smirk, his hand moving to rest against the side of your neck. "Damn right you will be." he told you, tugging you closer to him. "Gotta make up for lost time, sweetheart."

[alchemistc]

Let's goooo! 15. trembling hands

I already did this prompt but I've been steeping in a pile of blankets and a heating pad and miserable cramps for hours just thinking about this so:

"I just keep thinking about the last time you kissed me," Buck says, and he hates the waver in it, hates the way he has to set the neatly packed bankers box down on his island because his hands are shaking as bad as his voice.

Tommy gives him the kind of look he'd expect to see if he rounded a dark curve late at night and his headlights caught a deer crossing the road.

Total devastation lies ahead. Neither one of them gets out of this without a scratch.

He'd had a call, years back now. Some family driving home after an evening of movies and arcades and dinner, a nice newer SUV, a nervous creature who would have had plenty of time to cross into the woods but got stuck in the beam of light hurtling towards it. Until it tried to jump the vehicle right before impact.

The dad had died quick, Buck remembers. They'd only found that out later, though, because the deer hadn't died. Not then. Not right away. Not until after they'd arrived, because they'd watch the thing, stuck in the windscreen, panicked and dying and kicking.

Animal control didn't make it on scene until after the moms chest had been caved in.

Tommy's grip on the box in his own hands looks painful.

"It was just - it was the kind of kiss I figured we'd share a few thousand more times, you know?"

Nothing special, a barely there peck, an appetizer because they had places to be and they'd lost more than one reservation getting caught up before so they'd made it a habit of the greeting kiss being... quick.

"I just wish I'd known it was gonna be the last time."

It hurts to say. It hurts to think, but this one's been spinning on a loop every time he's got idle hands and an idle mind and it feels like Tommy should at least know that he -

"I have to go," Tommy says. He'd set this up with that excuse - I have some of your things, can I drop them off before work - like he could rip the bandaid and be done and Buck had spent twenty minutes folding and refolding the same pair of Tommy's sweatpants before he found the nerve to respond with a thumbs up.

"Yeah," Buck says, and takes a moment to drink in the sight of him a final time. Tommy's eyes dart to the hand still hanging at his side, fingers tapping out a rhythm against his palm, unlike the one holding onto his kitchen island like a lifeline.

This is it.

There's - nothing left to tie them together. No excuses to see each other again outside of random happenstance. He'd debated stuffing one of Tommy's zip ups into the bottom of his laundry basket for about ten minutes after Tommy let him know he was headed over, but that's in the box with everything else.

He has to look away when he realizes his vision's gone a little blurry.

"I'll... see you," Buck manages, and convinces himself he doesn't hear the blown out breath from where Tommy's standing.

He listens to the footsteps moving away. Hears the latch click and sucks in a breath so harsh Tommy has to hear it.

He remembers trying to shield those kids in the back seat from the sight of both their parents and wishes he at least had some bruises to show for the way his own chest feels like it's caving in.

The door clicks shut, and Buck turns towards it a second before he feels his chin being angled.

It's nothing like their first kiss, or the greeting kiss. This is the kiss he'd get when he couldn't shut the hell up about something and Tommy had to do something about it. The kiss they'd share when it became clear a movie wasn't holding his attention and Tommy pressed him into the couch cushions with a grin. The kiss he'd give when he was so overwhelmed by how he felt and didn't have the words to explain it so he'd poured every ounce of - of love into his lips and his tongue and his teeth because even if he didn't know how to say it he wanted Tommy to know.

It slows and settles into something soft and breathy and Buck lets the hand he'd curled over Tommy's jaw drop to his chest when they break it. Their breathing is shaky, and the hand clenched in the back of Buck's shirt shakes before he breaks the hold. Buck keeps his eyes closed. His throat is tight.

"That's - if I'd known it was the last one, that's the one I'd have wanted it to be," Tommy says, and then he's pulling away. Leaving.

The door clicks open and shut while Buck's eyes are still closed, and he stands there in silence for a good ten minutes until he's sure he can breath again. When he licks his lips he doesn't recognize the taste of the lip balm Tommy'd left behind there.

The box of Tommy's stuff is sitting on the end table.

It takes Buck four goddamn tries to type out a coherent text, with the way it's shaking in his hand.

You forgot to take your stuff, he sends.

Tommy's the kind of old school where he keeps his phone in the center console while he's driving, so he doesn't expect anything back immediately.

He refuses to let himself read into it at all. An honest mistake after leaving them both more hurt than the first time around.

He'll ask Chim to deliver it so they don't have to see each other again.

Forty-two minutes later, he happens to glance at his phone just in time to see the bubbles.

They disappear. Reappear. Disappear.

How forgetful of me.

And that's - that's all he gets for another five minutes. He nearly tosses his phone in the air when the bubbles come back, like somehow someone will have witnessed him staring at it hard enough to burn a hole through it.

Maybe you could bring it by sometime.

MVA, two adult males, significant internal injuries.

The bubbles are still there.

Think I may have forgotten a few of your things, anyway.

Buck doesn't believe that for a fucking second. He'd had a drawer, two hangers, a spot under the sink in the bathroom. Tommy's place had always reminded Buck how well suited they were, with how meticulously everything had a place.

Doesn't seem like you, Buck shoots back, and tries not to examine how close to the line of flirty he's being.

That was a terrible last kiss, Tommy sends back, almost immediately.

Buck's hands don't shake when he sends the next message. It's a blatant lie. It probably broke top ten. We could fix that.

[coolemmasulivan2]

Public Secret

Pairing: Pedri Gonzalez x Reader

Summary: You're not together, but everybody knows that you're together.

Word count: 2409

Author's note: It's my first time writing about Pedri. I had another idea in mind but as I was writing it, it came out like this. Tell me what you think.

No me alcanza el tiempo Cuando estoy contigo Faltan tantos momentos Sobran los motivos Pa' que ya no llore

Everybody knew! Everybody.

It was no secret that you liked Pedri and that he liked you back. People could see how you felt about each other, clear as day. Except for you two, of course. You were both totally blind to it.

You'd been working together at Barcelona and with the Spanish National Team for five years. You worked in the Medical and Performance department, and you had a good relationship with everyone.

Pedri was three years younger than you, but when you met you hit it off right away. He was always so easygoing and had this calming way about him. And there was something about his voice that made you feel safe.

You were really close, but things changed after his injury at the Euros. Seeing him in pain was heartbreaking, and when he found out he'd miss the rest of the tournament, he was devastated. Since then, you'd been working together almost every day to get him back on the pitch for the start of La Liga.

"You'll come back stronger than before!" You'd reassure him, your words a constant source of encouragement and he'd always return your smile.

Back in Barcelona after the injury, and his vacations, the reality of his feelings for you hit him hard. It was time to stop hinting and take a leap. But every attempt to ask you out was interrupted by either another person or his own crippling fear. And then Dani Olmo joined the team, and everything changed.

"God, she's really beautiful!" Dani exclaimed as he saw you walking by when the the locker room door swung open.

"Who?" Ansu asked, curious.

"The physiotherapist. Y/n!" Ferran looked at him, a smirk playing on his lips. A few of the other players exchanged knowing glances. "Do you think she's single? I'm thinking about asking her out." Dani added, a cocky grin spreading across his face.

Ferran chuckled slightly. "That's a bad idea."

"Why?" Dani asked, genuinely confused.

"Well, how can I put this... She and Pedri are kind of a thing." Ferran explained.

Dani's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Pedri? And Y/n? Are you serious?" The boys nodded, a mix of amusement in their eyes. "No way!" Dani exclaimed.

"Todo el mundo lo sabe!" Ferran continued. "They act like best friends, but it's clear they're into each other. Everyone can see it except them, apparently." (Everyone know!)

Dani whistled. "Damn!"

Just as Dani was going to say something else, Pedri walked into the locker room, greeted everyone with a friendly smile. As he scanned the room, he noticed the odd looks being exchanged.

"¿Qué?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. (What?)

The boys quickly looked away, trying to appear nonchalant. "Nada!" Ferran replied, a bit too quickly. (Nothing!)

Pedri shook his leg nervously in the physio room while waiting for your arrival. He was still recovering from his injury and had been undergoing treatment with you. The thought of asking you out made him even more anxious than usual. He'd never had trouble asking girls out in school, but this was different.

"Hi, Pedri!" You greeted him, your voice warm and friendly.

Pedri looked up, a smile spreading across his face. "Hey!"

"How was practice? Did you experience any discomfort?" You put on a pair of blue gloves to examine his knee. His intense gaze made you blush. "Ahm-- Pedri?"

"Perdona. ¿Qué has dicho?" He shook his head, clearly distracted. (Sorry. What did you say?)

You chuckled. "How was practice? Any discomfort?" You gently touched his leg.

Pedri shook his head. "No! Everything's fine."

"Good. Let's take a look and see if it's healing well." You sat down on the stool and inspected his knee.

Pedri couldn't take his eyes off you, lost in your beauty. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words wouldn't come out. Every time he was about to ask you out, something seemed to block him.

"If it's so difficult to ask her on a date, just ask her if she wants to have dinner! As friends." He remembered Ferran's advice. But even that simple task seemed impossible.

"It seems like everything's fine." You said, stepping away to write something on the computer. "Just be careful, and in no time you'll be training with the team and playing."

"¡Ese es el objetivo!" Pedri replied, finally looking away from you to focus on his knee. (That's the goal!)

Unknown to him, you were in the same dilemma. Asking a guy out wasn't something you normally did, but it shouldn't be this difficult.

"Pedri?" You began.

Pedri looked up. "Hmm?"

Just do it! "Do you wa--" You interrupted yourself, your mind filled with doubt. Why would a famous footballer agree to a date with you, a simple woman? Rejection would be humiliating, and it could make working together awkward. "Do you want a lollipop?" You took one from your drawer.

Pedri laughed. "Do you always keep sweets in your drawer? You know we can't eat those, right?"

You shrugged. "Si tú no cuentas, yo tampoco." (I won't tell if you don't.)

Pedri hesitated, glancing at the door to make sure you were alone. "You'll be the death of me!" He said, grabbing the lollipop.

A knock on the door startled both of you. "Come in." You called out.

The door creaked open, and Ferran poked his head inside. "Hola!" He greeted you, and you returned the smile. "¿Mano, estás pronto?" (Are you ready?)

"Si!" Pedri jumped off the stretcher and grabbed his phone from your table. "Thanks, Y/n!"

You smiled. "De nada. Bye, Pedri!" (You're welcome.)

"Bye." He mumbled, his voice barely audible.

As he left the room, Ferran pushed him against the corridor wall. "Did you do it?" He whispered.

Pedri looked away. "I can't. Let's just forget it!"

"No! Come on, just do it." Ferran insisted.

Inside the room, you could hear them talking outside, but their voices were too low to make out the words.

"Mano, no puedo. Cada vez que lo intento, me rajo." Pedri confessed, his head against the wall. "She makes me so nervous." (Bro, I can't do it. Every time I try, I chicken out.)

Ferran rolled his eyes and let out a sigh. He grabbed his friend's arm and knocked on your door again. Pedri's eyes widened in panic. "Trust me!" Ferran assured him. You told them to come in, and Ferran opened the door. "Hey, Y/n, do you want to have dinner at my house? I'm inviting some of the players and the staff, just to celebrate the beginning of the session."

You hesitated, but eventually agreed. "I'd like that." You replied.

Ferran smiled, and for some reason, you saw Pedri blush. "I'll text you the address." He said. You nodded, and he closed the door.

You smiled, looking at the computer. This was your opportunity to ask Pedri out. Maybe outside of work, it would be easier.

On the other side of the door, Pedri hid his face in his hands as Ferran placed his arm on his shoulder. "Tonight is your chance. Stop running away and ask her out." Ferran urged.

You paused in front of Ferran's house, taking a deep breath. Tonight was the night. You were going to ask Pedri out, even if he rejected you. At least then you would know. You were out of work, in a different and comfortable environment, with all the ingredients to work in your favor.

"What are we waiting for?" A voice whispered in your ear, making you jump. You looked behind and saw Raphinha.

"You scared me!" You said, hitting his shoulder.

"That was the point! Anyway, what are you doing outside? Waiting for someone special?"

You rolled your eyes. Raphinha was the only one you had admitted you liked Pedri. Others had asked you, teased you, but you had never admitted to anyone else.

"I'm going to ask him out, tonight!" You told him.

Raphinha's face lit up. "It's about damn time." You blushed. He put his arm around your shoulders. "Come on, let's go find your lover boy."

Pedri was already on his third beer, he didn't know why, maybe to calm his nerves. This night had to go perfectly. He couldn't mess it up, it was finally his opportunity.

"Slow down!" Ferran said, taking the beer from his hand. "¿Qué cojones te pasa?" (What's going on with you?)

"Estoy nervioso! Have you seen her?" He said, looking around. (I'm nervous!)

"No, I haven't." He told him, grabbing his shoulders to make him look at him. "Hermano, cálmate! She's your friend, you talk to her all the time. Just take a deep breath. Everything is going to be alright." (Bro, relax!)

"If I mess this up, kill me!" Pedri said.

"Deal!"

You knocked on the door, and Ferran opened it, giving you a big smile.

"Y/n! I thought you had lost yourself." He said, giving you a hug and bumping fists with Raphinha. "Come on in."

"Nice house, Ferran! Who's the decorator?" You teased.

Ferran rolled his eyes. "I am! Stop assuming I don't have good taste." You laughed.

On the other side of the room, Pedri stopped listening to the new coach and turned his attention to the sound of your laughter. He knew your laugh anywhere.

He saw you talking with Ferran and Raphinha and instantly smiled.

"Excuse me!" He said to the group and walked away. As he approached, you saw him and smiled at him. "Hola!" (Hello!)

"Hola, Pedri!" You sounded like an angel to him. You always did. "¿Cómo estás?" (How are you?)

Without either of you noticing, Raphinha and Ferran had left you alone.

"Bien!" He replied, a smile spreading across his face. "For a second I thought you weren't coming." (Good!)

You smirked. "Why? Would that be so bad? Not having my company."

"It would be terrible!" He played along, his confidence unwavering. "With who would I talk? And enjoy the actual conversation?"

You laughed at his joke. Pedri was loved by everyone, and everyone loved Pedri.

"Says the man that's loved by all!"

Not you! Pedri thought to himself.

Even me! You thought to yourself.

"You know I like your company. It's always easy to talk to you." He admitted.

You blushed. "And you know I feel the same way."

It's now! You both thought.

"Everybody? ¡Vamos a comer!" Ferran shouted, his voice interrupting your moment. (Let's eat!)

If looks could kill, Ferran would be lying on the floor by the way both you and Pedri looked at him. He seemed to notice, because he quickly looked away from you.

You and Pedri sat down next to each other at the dinner table, closer than necessary. You found yourselves falling into conversations, completely forgetting about the other people around you.

"Pedri is going to ask her out, tonight!" Ferran whispered to Raphinha next to him.

Raphinha looked surprised, a smile growing on his face. "Are you serious?" Ferran nodded. "Y/n's is also going to ask him out, tonight!"

Ferran's eyes widened. "Puta Madre!"

"Well, I got to go!" Raphinha said, getting up from the sofa. "Y/n, do you want a ride home?"

After dinner, everyone had left except you, Pedri and Raphinha. The three of you along with Ferran sat together in the living room, talking about the next matches and about Pedri recovery.

You needed a ride home indeed, but you hadn't done what you were supposed to and before you could accept his offer, Pedri spoke.

"I can give you a ride home!" You looked at him, blushing, while Ferran and Raphinha exchanged knowing smiles. "I mean, we're going in the same direction."

"Oh, okay. Gracias, Pedri!" (Thank you)

The truth was that he didn't even know where you lived. He had no idea if you were going in the same direction as him, but the ride home was an opportunity to be alone with you and so be easier to ask you out.

As you and Pedri drove home, a comfortable silence settled between you. You were both lost in your thoughts, each of you trying to find the courage to say what you were feeling.

Finally, Pedri broke the silence. "I actually have no idea where you live, so I'm going to need the directions."

You looked at him and laughed. "So why did you say that?"

He scratched the back of his neck, nervously. "I just wanted to be with you. Since the Euros, we haven't been together that much and I miss it."

Your heart pounded in your chest. "I miss it too!" You said, your voice low.

With a smile on your face, you gave him the directions to your house. When he parked in front of it, you couldn't bring yourself to step out.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. "Pedri?"

"Y/n?" You both said at the same time. "Sorry. You first."

"I… I've been wanting to ask you something," you said, your voice trembling slightly.

Pedri swallowed a lump in his throat. "What is it?"

"I… I have feelings for you." You finally admitted, your voice barely audible.

Pedri's eyes widened. "What?" He asked, his voice filled with disbelief. "I mean… really?"

"I've tried to hide it, but it's been getting harder and harder." You admitted. "And I've been wanting to ask you out… like, on a date."

Pedri took a deep breath and looked at you astonished. "I… I've been trying to ask you out since we came back from Germany!" You couldn't believe it. You had been so afraid of rejection that you hadn't dared to admit your feelings. But now, here you were. "I've liked you since the first day we met."

"Me too!" You replied.

There was a long moment of silence as you both took in the significance of what you had just said. Then, Pedri leaned in and kissed you softly.

Your heart raced as you cupped his face and kissed him back. It was a gentle and sweet kiss. Even better than you had imagined.

When you pulled away, you were both breathless. "I've been wanting to do that for a long time!" Pedri said.

You bushed. "Me too."

"So, what do you say? Want to go on a date?"

You smiled. "Yes, I'd like that."

[websterss]

JUST TRYING TO BE BRAVE — ERIC (AQPDO)

REQUEST: A request for Eric from A Quiet Place: Day One The reader only knows of one way to calm him whilst he's having a panic attack during the madness, and they gently let him rest against their chest and listen to their heartbeat until he calms down <3

WARNING(S): SLIGHT SPOILERS, fluff, angst, panic attacks

WORD COUNT: 1,286

PAIRING: Eric x fem!Reader

A/N: I hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed! I didn’t know where you wanted the reader to calm him down so you get a two-for-one scenario fic lmfao <33

MASTERLIST

You don’t know what you would’ve done if you hadn’t run into Sam like you and Eric had. You two probably would have continued to wander the discarded vacant streets of New York, had you decided not to follow the cat.

Sam had been insistent on you both leaving her be with her cat, but at last she got used to your presence. Now as you shelter in her abandoned home, watching and hearing the rain fall from the windows, you can’t help but feel relieved those creatures can’t hear your beloved's panicked inhales and exhales.

“Eric, it’s okay! You’re alright. We’re okay!” He only shakes his head at your reassured comments. Your consolation this time wasn’t doing the trick to calm him down, if you hadn’t run out you would have given him his prescribed anxiety meds. “It’s okay. They can’t hear us up here right now. You’re okay. We’ve made it this far haven’t we?” You breathe out a laugh as you cup his face. He barely musters a nod before his eyes close again, you could imagine the tornado spinning around in his chest. Wreaking havoc on his sanity and any small chance of serenity. You could imagine it all. You could see the panic, the fear in his eyes, making his chest rise and fall rapidly as he struggled to maintain his breath. “Do you want to try it again, what your doctor recommended us to do? Your head pressed on my chest. Match your breathing to the rhythm of each beat of my heart…” You trailed off letting him take the lead.

At your suggestion, he nods slowly, his eyes closing as he reaches out for your hands again. "O-Okay..." Eric tried to take deep breaths, but they came out as panicked stutters.

You sat back against the sofa, allowing space for him to rest against your chest. You began to steady your rhythmic pace, knowing it only worked if you were just as calm and relaxed. You press a gentle kiss against his curls. As his breathing slows to a soft inhale and exhale. He tuned out everything around him. Hearing every thump, feeling every minor skip in your chest. He felt your steadiness, felt the caresses in his hair. The strong warm hold of your other arm as you held him close. He could feel you, hear every intake of air. You were present for him, and he was welcoming the stillness the moment allowed for you both to have once again. He guessed as much though just how the rest of your lives would dissolve into, a world of quiet.

It seemed heavenly at first, but otherworldly frightening, knowing he might just have to savor the small moments where he’d get to hear your voice again. Just as he was doing now.

Once you registered his slackened jaw and relaxed shoulders, you assumed as much that he had fallen asleep. You didn’t dare move. Your fingers continued to rake through his hair as he had succumbed to sleep. You couldn't help but feel relieved that he had calmed down and been able to find some rest. The rain continued to patter against the windows, its soothing sound acting as a natural lullaby to ease your nerves. As you held him close, you found yourself unable to tear your gaze away from his peaceful face.

“What started the attacks?” Sam watches you both from the windows.

“Moving far from home. His parents were so proud of him for following through with law school, but he was devastated to leave them. I completely out of mind in love with him, made the biggest jump of my life following him to the U.S.”

“Do you ever regret it?”

You peer up at Sam with glistened eyes. “N-No. I wouldn’t be sane going through this apocalypse without him. Whatever this whole mess is!” You exclaimed quietly. You look down at him, brushing back his curls. “I’d regret it more if I hadn’t followed him here. I can’t imagine what he would’ve done all alone, if he’d survived it this far. I think he would. I wonder if he’d have met you just the same if I wasn’t here. I’d have been thankful just the same though, Sam. For letting him stick with you.” You choke back a sob, your smile widening at the corners. Sam only nods, turning her head away from your vulnerable confession. You didn’t take it to the heart. Who knew what pain she was going through herself.

As you spoke to Sam, your voice quivered with a mix of love and vulnerability. You could feel the weight of your words hanging in the air, and for a moment, it was as if the world outside faded away, leaving only the three of you to navigate this strange new reality. You couldn’t help but wonder how Eric would have fared if you hadn't been by his side, a thought that sent a shiver down your spine. With bated breaths, you turned your focus back to him, sleeping peacefully in your arms.

-

“Eric baby please!” You swish around in the water, eyes glistening as you look up at the creature crawling out from the hole on the roof. Sam had taken a more firmer approach. Holding her hand over his mouth. You had caught him about to squeak, before Sam shushed him. His need to express his panic in screams was hard to muffle.

You moved as quietly as you could in the water. Making your way to take over Sam’s place. Eric only shook his head at you. You had to nod, to remind him to stay calm.

“Eric, we need to slow your heart.”

“N-No, no, no.” He muttered. “I can’t…”

“You can, you can. Baby, look at me.” You whispered harshly, gripping his face like Sam had done. In a more serene and calm scenario, your softer touch would have been your go-to, but not when that thing was getting closer. “I’m scared right now, I’m scared too, but we need to get you back on track. I need you to focus and match your breathing to mine, right now!” Your eyes plead with him. “Please!”

His eyes were wide with fear, pupils dilated and breaths shallow. The panic was clearly taking over him as water dipped into his mouth, making it difficult for him to focus on anything other than the impending danger. Despite his obvious distress, he nodded slightly, trying his best to calm himself down. As you held his face, he tried to match his breathing to yours, each breath a struggle for control over the mounting fear. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to stay grounded in the presence of your touch.

"I got you. D-Deep breaths…" You barely whisper to him, your frequency morphing into mouthed words.

He took a shaky breath, shuddering as he attempted to follow your instructions. Your steady presence grounded him to the moment.

You didn't hesitate to place his head on your chest. You placed your hand on the back of his head, rubbing his wet hair back and forth in hopes of reassuring him. You tread lightly backwards, keeping your sights on the beast behind you three.

Eric pressed his ear against your chest, the sound of your steady heartbeat providing a calming rhythm to focus on. His breaths were still shaky, but with your hand on the back of his head, soothing in soft caresses, he slowly began to calm down. He closed his eyes and let himself be guided through the water, trusting your instincts to lead the way. Trusting both Sam and you to get him far away from the damned creature.

[thebestsetter]

Thinking about Rin Itoshi with a partner who's an oldest sibling.

Well, he didn't even know you had a little sibling at first, since that topic never popped up in your conversations (actually, he probably avoided the topic family altogether). It just happened to slip up during an outing at the mall. You both just passed through a shop you knew your sibling liked, which made you remember their birthday was coming up. So, you grasped the opportunity to buy their gift beforehand to prevent you from forgetting it like you did last year and making your family member mad (again).

"Rinnie, let's stop here!"

"Huh? Why? I don't remember you mentioning you liked this shop before"

"It's not for me silly! It's for my lil sibling!"

"....you have a younger sibling?"

"Yeah!"

"And you buy them gifts?"

"...you don't buy your sibling presents?" (Of course, you didn't know about what happened between him and Sae and their strained relationship at the time)

"...no"

He looked really uncomfortable, so you just left it at that. You knew he would tell you eventually when he finally felt like he trusted you enough.

After that, Rin actually got pretty curious about you and your sibling. How was your relationship with eachother? Do you treat them well? (he knows you do, but the trauma he got when Sae left still haunts him to this day) Do they treat you well? (He hopes they do, because he won't take it lightly if they don't). Sadly, he couldn't go to their birthday becsuse he was playing abroad, but you gushed about the party while in call with him, talking about how "Your little baby was growing too fast" and how "You weren't ready for that". So, that answered (a part of) his questions: your relationship was just great. Amazing, even. And that only made him more curious and more anxious to meet them.

The opportunity to actually meet your sibling presents itself in an unsuspected night. It was one of Rin's rare day offs, which you both usually spend cuddling in the couch, eating tons of chocolate (actually it was you eating chocolate and him watching, because he had to follow a strict diet. More for you, I guess!) and watching some horrible horror movies that had such bad script, acting and special effects that they looked more like comedy movies.

You were finishing the popcorn when you heard the doorbell ringing. Since your hands were full, you asked Rin to open the door.

"Rinrin, sweetheart, could you please open the door? I'm busy with the popcorn right now!"

Without saying a word, Rin got up from the couch (where he was picking the movie for the night) and went straight to the door, wondering who could it be. Maybe you ordered take out. Maybe it was that sweet old lady that lived next door offering brownies again. Maybe a scout selling cookies. It could also be--

Oh.

He was NOT expecting this.

"...I think you got the wrong house" The striker said after opening the door and finding a teenager, probably not a lot younger that him (5 years at most). They were crying badly, with snot running down their nose and looking absolutely devastated.

"So, who is it--" you said, blissfully unaware that someone was having a breakdown at your front door. However, when you finally got to the door and saw who was there, you quickly put your hands over your mouth, muttering your sibling's name with a worried "Oh dear! What happened?" following right after.

You quickly ushered your sibling inside, told them to sit at the couch and went into the kitchen to make them some tea to help them calm down, not knowing Rin was right behind you ever since you closed the door, wondering "Who the hell is this person?", but not quite knowing how to ask.

"You're probably wondering who they are". There you were. Always knowing what he wants without him even needing to utter a word. That was probably one of the reasons your relationship worked so well, Rin thought.

"Yeah"

"They're my little sibling, the one I went to that birthday party last month"

"...ah."

"I don't know why they're crying tho. I hope I can figure it out."

"I'm sure you can"

"C'mon, let's go to couch. They're waiting there" You said, holding the tea in your hands. But, before you both got out at the kitchen, you stopped and turned to him with a smile "Actually, could you please grab some napkins at the bathroom stall? I'm sure I'll need some"

"Sure, no problem"

Then, you both parted ways. While Rin was searching for the damn napkins that Itoshi was sure were actually straight up hiding from him, only your sibling's sniffs and your soothing words filled the house. He gradually heard the crying disappearing though, so you must have done a very good job at comforting your family member.

Rin must have spent a long time searching for the napkins, because at the time he finally got to the living room, he could no longer hear sniffs or hushed whispers.

"Honey? I found the napkins." He said while getting closer to the couch.

When he did get to where you were, he understood why he wasn't hearing anything anymore. No wonder the sniffs disappeared: you and your sibling were both sleeping, with their head in your lap and your hand in their hair, as though you were passing your hand through their locks to soothe the pain they were feeling. You both had calm expressions on your faces (well, as calm as a face of a person who probably spent more than 1 hour crying could be) and the cup of tea sat empty in the table beside the armchair.

"Oh."

Rin looked at the scene in front of him with a sad sparkle in his eyes, wondering how his life would be if Sae was a sibling like you in the past: a caring brother, that wouldn't call him lukewarm and wouldn't say he makes him wanna vomit.

Shaking this thoughts out of his mind since they were going to make him more harm than good and it was no use thinking about Sae now, Rin grabbed the blanket you both use during movie nights and threw it over you and your sibling, looking at the scene one last time before heading towards your shared bedroom, your movie night long forgotten. He wasn't sad though, because what happened today made him be sure of something:

You were the perfect match for him, and he would be damned if he let you go.

A/n: Did this based on me and my little brother's relationship. His birthday was yesterday, so I got creative. A great idea, not so great execution. Wish I could've done a better job on my Rin debut fic, sorry Rin 😔

Masterlist