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Hi, I read your post about Joong/Est & Dunk beef and I wanted to give you more information as I felt like you were missing some-- and bc I got to know them just 2 months and followed them on twitter and the things have been really insane? wild? and I just need to share.
So after Joong posted the tweet about him & Dunk not being on good terms right now, New(!) posted a reply to it "Is this okay?" (I assume he means is it okay to post such a thing?"). And after that Joong's tweet, I saw many fans who were unaware things have been weird btn JD finding out the two weren't getting along well. I'm not against actors sharing their feelings, but it really felt like a bad PR to me that hurts their branding. I was honestly wondering why GMMTV does not give their artists PR training when Joong suddenly posted a selfie of him & Dunk smiling with moustache filter and Dunk also posted a pic with him & Joong & P'tha who is CEO of GMMTV. AND Joong also deleted his tweet about the beef.
Now my unconfirmed theory is that after Joong posted that tweet, things got a bit out of hand and reached the ears of P'Tha and he made them sort of make up or at least ordered them to act more like usual, and for Joong to delete the tweet. In the event they had the next day, they were doing some fanservice too. It was very jarring to see the whole thing unfold tbh, especially Joong's emotional subtweets and retweets of shady quotes that lasted for weeks made me a little worried if he is mentally okay. I'm not sure JD are even on good terms right now (I don't think they are) - I don't know about Joong but Dunk seems to be trying to reach out like wishing him safe flight... but I sure do hope they can keep their working friendship or recover from whatever they are going through right now bc it would be really sad to see it end.
For Est/Joong, there seems to no visible movement for that side as far as I know except for both of their fans fighting each other like twice a week. They got into fight again today bc Joong doesn't even acknowledge or promote ThamePo even though he guest starred in it. The fan communities have been so toxic and weird and I just honestly feel so bad for the actors.
Anon, I turned off reblogs to this post except for the people mentioned within it because I just learned I could (look at this old dog learning new tricks!) and I hope this encourages you to come back to my inbox, anonymously, and offer more discussion without it getting muddled with others' thoughts.
Because I have a question.
But first I want to solidify one key point - I am invested in whatever happened between Joong and Est and, by extension, Joong and everyone else including Dunk. I just want to make that clear, so you don't think I'm trying to claim some level of emotional superiority with my following question because I'm not. I'm interested in everything you wrote because I'm nosy for no good reason, so I want to know what happened and all the details simply because I want to, and I want to make that clear before I continue.
Now, my question:
Why do you perceive Joong's behavior for the past few months as mentally unstable?
It was very jarring to see the whole thing unfold tbh, especially Joong's emotional subtweets and retweets of shady quotes that lasted for weeks made me a little worried if he is mentally okay.
You are not the first to write this. I have seen this sentiment in various spaces raised here with @waitmyturtles and @simysaru43, and on Reddit, so based on your comment, why do you think his behavior equates to him not being mentally okay? Regardless if he is or isn't, I want to know why YOU think that? And please know that I am genuinely asking anyone who has expressed this thought because I truly want to know others' perspective since I think his behavior is a suitable response to what is happening, whatever it might be (which, once again, I want to know what *that* is because I am soooo very nosy).
Joong is no longer friends (friendly?) with Est, yet they work at the same company; therefore, they must be around each other in a professional capacity. He doesn't seem to be friends (friendly?) with Daou anymore either. Yet Dunk, his work partner, hung out with them outside of work, so why can't he be bothered by that? People have stated it seems immature that he would dictate someone else's behavior, but I think we are underestimating the demands of their jobs and the unstated obligations they must abide by within their working relationships. Joong is an actor in a genre that is known for its (toxic) fans, so I am also surprised that GMMTV doesn't have a stronger grasp on any of its actors' social media presences, but Joong is also human, so having emotions, even public ones, is part of that.
So is the worrisome part of his posts that they focus on his emotions? Does it worry you that his posts are rooted in him publicly revealing his feelings? I'm not in the practice of defending men or their behavior, but I don't like the implication that a man feeling is cause for concern. That's why I'm asking why you are worried about him because I don't want to assume this is where you are coming from. I'm not asking for you to defend yourself or your comments because this is not a battle. I'm kindly asking for your perspective because my background (Mexican, Black, American) tells me this is messy behavior from a man, but my ideologies (feminist, anarchist, lover) tell me to be proud that he is allowing himself to display his feelings on a public forum.
But I might be missing something, culturally, generationally, or a third item I haven't thought about. Which is why I'm asking why his behavior is unsettling to you? I truly hope you respond, and if you want, I won't share your response.
Either way, let's discuss this further.
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o ((//>ω<//)) o Just curious cause it's almost the end of year and I wanna know frfr ✨ (and feedback would be noice.) 🥰
:3 Here my art tag #ruelin024art
#ruelin024art#i genuinely want to know#btw#lol i'm still taking a break#sighhhh#imma be gone for a bit again#sorry if i don't respond at a timely manner >W<#hopefully i correctly tagged my artworks >;3#i'm also working on the asks for the expression bases too for when i come back!#and i read the color tree#you guys make me happy#like 😭😭😭#💖#thank you guys#undertale artist#undertale fandom#digital artist
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like snow on the beach
pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader
word count: ~2.8k
summary: You're on a work trip with your boss, who you don't like and who you're convinced doesn't like you either. Unfortunately, there's only one bed.
tags/warnings: only one bed trope (ayyyy), fluff, idiots in love, alternating povs, reader has hair that drips down her neck after showering at one point but there are no texture or color descriptors, able-bodied reader, no use of y/n, my nonexistent knowledge of colombian geography which i'm asking you to ignore for the sake of this silly story THANK YOU
a/n: my entry for the summer lovin' challenge brought to us by queens @pedgito, @chaotic-mystery and @amanitacowboy <3 i got the moodboard you see in the header and the location by the water. i'm also posting a little early but i'm too excited and it's almost midnight here so i think it's gonna be fine hehe
biggest love to @sizzlingcloudmentality who held my hand through writing this and patiently listened to all my complaints lol. i love drinking more caffeine than pedro and writing with you while getting distracted by cats <3
dividers by @plum98!
find my full masterlist here and follow @guiltyasdavenotifs to get notified when i post a new fic :)
You’re hot, too hot.
It’s disorienting, as you blink awake, slow to get your bearings. Arms are wrapped around you, caging you in, engulfing you in the warmth of the body pressed against your back. Hot air is fanning against your neck, accompanied by a scratching sensation on the sensitive skin.
Your surroundings are unfamiliar, faded wallpaper in an unappealing shade of green and light filtering in through the battered up blinds. It comes back to you in pieces, the motel you’re staying at, the small Colombian town where you’re hoping to get a hold of one of the Cali cartel men.
The obnoxious scent of Peña’s aftershave is flooding your nostrils, paired with the traces of tobacco that follow him everywhere he goes. It’s honestly embarrassing, how easily you recognize it.
It clicks into place now. The arms around you, the warmth. The scratch that you now realize is his mustache as he’s breathing against your neck.
You start wriggling around, causing the man behind you to stir, a confused groan coming out slightly muffled, his mouth still so close to your skin. He lets go of you after a second, allowing you to turn around and glare at him.
His face is already forming his signature annoyed scowl, an expression that you’re more than well acquainted with.
“What the hell are you doing?!”
He sounds different like this, voice still thick with sleep, a hint of the disorientation that you’ve shaken off by now.
“What am I doing? I woke up with your arms around me, Peña.”
He blinks, shifting to sit up and lean against the headboard. You mirror him, putting as much space between you as the rather small bed frame allows.
“Sorry,” he allows after a beat, running a hand through his hair, tousling the mess of black strands that has formed in his sleep. “That wasn’t… appropriate. I apologize.”
If you weren’t as annoyed right now, you’d probably think that he looks adorable like this. The you from a few months ago would most likely go wild at seeing Javier Peña right after waking up, after he held you in his arms no less.
The you from a few months ago hadn’t experienced what an asshole of a boss he could be yet, hadn’t been taken off investigations again and again, because Peña thought you weren’t ready. She also hadn’t heard about his terrible reputation with women, hadn’t been subjected to all the office gossip that surrounded him yet.
Now, after days of practically begging him to take you along on this trip because the whole investigation was based on information that you had gathered, you’re stuck in this motel room with him. Something about your booking of two single rooms accidentally having been processed as one double room, with no other rooms available because of course there weren’t.
Peña had offered to sleep on the ground, or in the car, but you had waved him off, thinking about how often he had complained how his back was getting worse the older he got on the drive here. You hadn’t expected to wake up to him all but wrapped around you.
Maybe a small, very small part of you is still going wild about it. A part that you can easily swallow down though. He’s objectively attractive, yes. Doesn’t change the fact that he’s an asshole.
“Just forget it,” you mumble, heat rising belatedly in your cheeks. Gathering your clothes for the day, you flee to the bathroom, eager to wash the whole decidedly weird situation off your body and out of your mind. You’re here because you have a job to do, not to get flustered around your boss.
When you reemerge, wet strands of your hair dripping down your neck, he’s already dressed, clasping his hands in a way that almost seems nervous. If you weren’t pretty convinced that Javier Peña isn’t physically able to get nervous.
“I– I’m really sorry,” he repeats, raising from the worn down arm chair he’s been sitting in. “I didn’t mean to put you in an uncomfortable position. I’m not– I’m not exactly used to sharing a bed.”
A scoff leaves you at that. Sure, Agent Peña, who’s notorious for sleeping with his informants and with at least half of the female staff of the American embassy, isn’t used to sharing his bed.
“Don’t worry about it, Peña.”
You turn away before he can reply, collecting your notes on the investigation that you hope will come in helpful eventually. You don’t catch the remorseful look in his eyes, or the way they linger on you as you open the door, the early morning light illuminating your figure.
It’s another day filled with nothing but waiting and growing frustration, just like the one before. The sun is beating down on the car that you’re occupying, the heat suffocating even with the windows rolled down and the cool bottle of water that you’re pressing against your neck.
Minutes tick by, turning into hours that go by too quickly and seem to last forever at the same time. Peña is surprisingly quiet, not goading you in the way you had expected him to.
“Maybe the information was bad,” you mumble eventually, sinking deeper into the car seat. The leather is sticking uncomfortably to your skin and you can’t shake the growing feeling that you’ve insisted on coming out here for nothing.
He slowly turns his head in your direction, regarding you through the dark tint of his aviators.
“I looked at it. We wouldn’t be here if it was bad.”
You huff, your patience running short and shorter at the subtle indication of his superiority, his quiet arrogance, always so fucking sure of himself.
“You weren’t exactly thrilled about coming here, remember?”
He raises a brow, a hint of impatience on his own features.
“I wasn’t thrilled about you coming here.”
You roll your eyes, openly scowling at him now.
“It’s my intel.”
“Doesn’t make it less dangerous, does it?”
Biting your lip, you force your blood to not boil over. He’s still your boss, at the end of the day, someone you probably shouldn’t start cussing out, no matter how openly he underestimates you and how badly it annoys you. And you’re gonna have to share that wretched bed with him again tonight.
Javier watches your face, watches you swallow down your anger, watches your teeth digging into your plush bottom lip. He understands your frustration, understands that no part of this trip is turning out the way you expected it to.
You’re still new to the workfield, not yet experienced with the hours upon hours of waiting, more often than not without a satisfying result to show for it. If he’s being honest with himself, he isn’t mad about it this time. He’ll rather have you frustrated than in danger.
You want to prove yourself, you’ve made that abundantly clear. You work hard, determined to bring in results, hungry for praise. It’s not that he doesn’t see that, doesn’t think that you’re capable. But he’s seen enough, enough injuries, enough psychological trauma, enough deaths, to know that he wants you far away from that side of your work.
Even if that means you’re angry at him more often than not, a glint of bitterness in your eyes every time he refuses to send you out yet again.
After another few hours, accompanied by the increasing rumbling in both your stomachs, he finally calls it quits for the day.
“We can drive back to Bogotá tomorrow,” he quietly offers on the way back to the motel, after picking up food for the both of you and refusing to let you pay for your share. “Gather more information, see why we didn’t find anything.”
You huff in return, irritated about the whole situation. The one chance you had to convince him to take you seriously, and this is what you get. “Fine,” you agree, gritting your teeth. Maybe your intel was bad. Maybe you just aren’t that good at your job.
“Keep to your side of the bed tonight,” you grumble later, after the bored woman at the reception told you that there still aren't any other rooms available.
“Of course,” he sighs, sliding under the covers with the biggest possible distance from you.
You nod, closing your eyes and willing for sleep to take you, but it’s a losing game. You toss and turn, feeling both too hot and too cold at the same time, unable to find a comfortable position and to get the voices in your head to shut up.
When you roll over yet again, his voice rings through the dark, somewhat agitatedly asking what’s wrong.
“Nothing,” comes your frustrated reply, pressing your face deeper into the cushion, your eyes squeezed shut. After a few more breaths and zero sign of your brain slowing down, you turn towards him, only able to make out his silhouette in the dark. Your judgment is probably hazy with how tired you are, but the words are out of your mouth before you can think them over.
“Can I ask you a question, Agent Peña?”
“Javier is fine.”
Your heart gives a tiny flutter, despite your conflicted feelings about him, despite the question that you’re about to ask.
“Why do you not like me?”
It’s inappropriate, especially right now, lying in the dark and sharing a fucking bed with him. But you think that if you don’t ask now, you probably never will, and you need to know.
“Why would you think that I don’t like you?”
You huff, squinting at him. “It’s pretty obvious. You don’t trust my work, you never send me to go out, dismiss my intel most of the time–”
It’s silent for a long time, safe for his quiet breaths.
“That’s not–” He sighs deeply, turning his head towards you as well. “That’s not true. You’re making it about yourself when you shouldn’t. I treat you exactly like your colleagues, you’re the one taking it personal.”
It’s curt, dismissive. Laced with carefully feigned indifference, bordering on coldness. Too carefully. You didn’t think he’d lie to you if you asked him this directly, but here you are.
Blinking back angry tears, you roll onto your back again, unseeingly staring at the ceiling. You don’t understand why it hits you like this. You’ve had shitty bosses before, far worse than Peña. You’ve just never wanted them to like you the way you want him to.
“Good night, Agent Peña.” You turn onto your other side, your back towards him.
“Good night,” comes his solemn reply.
You don’t wake up with his arms around you again, thankfully, but he hasn’t exactly kept to his side of the bed either. One hand is curled over your shoulder, like he had to reach out and hold onto you in his sleep.
You’re the one taking it personal.
Clearly he hasn’t been reaching for you specifically. It’s probably just second nature for him, something that usually goes well with the women sharing his bed.
You’re able to shake his hold off without waking him up, something that you’re grateful for.
When he wakes and repeats how he thinks you should abandon the investigation, you don’t argue. It’s a quiet affair, packing up and getting ready to leave.
Sitting in the driver’s seat, he turns to you, his brow furrowed into that moody expression you’ve gotten used to. “I’ve been thinking,” he begins, eyeing you warily. “We’re not far from the ocean right now. Have you been to the beach since you came to Colombia?”
You raise an eyebrow in mild suspicion, curious where he’s going with this.
“I haven’t been out of Bogotá since I landed there. But–”
His eyes grow softer, his hand twitching like he almost reached out towards you.
“No buts. At least then it won’t have been a total waste of time to come here, right?”
The dig towards you, towards the reason you drove all the way out here for nothing isn’t lost on you. You don’t have it in you to argue against it, so you just nod, staring straight ahead.
Javier realizes how badly you misunderstood his words as soon as they’re out of his mouth and he sees your face. He doesn’t know how he consistently manages to fuck up his interactions with you like this. It’s not him, the blundering, the words constantly coming out all wrong, but you make him nervous in a way that he hasn’t experienced in years.
He starts driving, hopeful to somehow still be able to turn this trip around. There’s a whole day on the road ahead of them, and he’d much rather spend those hours without feeling like he’s made you hate him.
You do soften at the sight of the ocean, the sound of waves rolling against the shore having a soothing effect almost instantly. It’s beautiful, the water a brilliant blue, the sun glittering on the surface. You can’t be mad right now, not even at Javier, who’s keeping his distance, letting you wander along the shore by yourself.
You focus on taking in the scenery, hoping to somehow take it with you to when you’re back in your bleak, government issued apartment, staring at the vastness of gray buildings that is of Bogotá.
When you turn back to him, his eyes are already on you, less tense, more open than you’re used to. You don’t know how long they’ve been lingering on you, how little attention he had been paying to the nature surrounding you. How good it had felt, to see you like this, without the usual distaste in your face that you have come to regard him with most of the time. The silhouette of you against the bright sky, your skin glowing under the beaming sun.
“Thank you,” you say, actually smiling at him. A spark of warmth grows in his chest. “This was a good idea, I– I enjoyed it.”
“I’m glad.” He eagerly returns the smile, allows himself to reach out and graze one finger against the soft skin of your hand. Finding himself unable to stop touching you, now that he’s had a taste of it.
Confusion crosses your face before you quickly avert your eyes, but you don’t pull away. It gives him a sliver of hope, that maybe you’re starting to understand what he doesn’t know how to tell you.
After a mostly quiet drive back, both of you too exhausted to talk much, Javier drops you off at your apartment, his hand once again hovering over yours before you get out.
“Good night,” he breathes, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. After a moment of hesitation, he continues on. “You– you’re doing good work. Don’t beat yourself up over this, okay?”
You manage a nod, murmuring thank you, Javier before opening the car door and stepping out onto your street, illuminated by the glow of yellow lights. You only realize that you used his first name by the time that your apartment door falls shut behind you. It doesn’t bother you as much as you thought it would.
Breathing in the familiar scent of your own place, a deep relief washes over you, reveling in the knowledge that you’re gonna sleep in your own bed tonight, alone. You turn on your shower, eager to let the warm water soothe your muscles, stiff from spending the entire day in a car.
When you exit the bathroom, wrapped into a towel and with a cloud of steam accompanying you, your answering machine is blinking. You press the button to let the message play, moving through your apartment to put on your comfiest sleepwear and ready to fall straight into bed.
You stop in your tracks when Javier’s voice rings through the room, tripping over the words in a way that’s difficult to associate with the calm, self-assured man that you know.
“Hey, it’s Javier. You– you’re probably showering, or already asleep. I just– I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings these past days, or– or any day, really. I wanted you to know that. You’re good at what you do, you really are, but– I worry about you, I guess. And I know that I shouldn’t, that I shouldn’t treat you differently. It’s– it’s not because I don’t like you. I like you too much, if anything, and– and now I know what it’s like to sleep next to you, and– anyway, I’m– shit, I’m making a fool of myself. Just– just call me back. Please.”
Your hand finds your phone as soon as the recording ends.
thank you for reading! as always, reblogs, comments and asks are love and absolutely make my day <3
#SummerLovin24#javier peña#javier pena x reader#javier pena fanfiction#javier pena x you#javier pena narcos#javier peña x f!reader#javier peña x female reader#janas fics
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Asking the L&Ds boys "What are we?" Part 4: Sylus
Summary: MC and her boy have been in a sort of situation-ship but MC wants to know why they haven't officially called her their girlfriend
a/n: This ended up being much longer than I thought so I'm making it into 4 parts (one for each boy) Here's Sylus' part its the longest part, but also my favourite. hope you like it. also, I probably mixed up Luke and Kieran multiple times so just ignore it lol.
Genres/Warnings: lots of Luke and Kieran shenanigans, a bit of angst, fluff, kinda slow burn
Word count: 1936
Previous Parts 1 2 3
You were spending the day with Luke and Kieran, it was supposed to be with sylus but something came up. He didn’t want you to waste your day off so he arranged for them to escort you around Linkon and basically do whatever you want for the whole day. While you were happy to have a chill day with your bodyguards/friends Luke and Keiran you were really looking forward to spending a whole day with Sylus. But recently lots of things have come up and he kept rescheduling all your dates. Was he trying to tell you something, is this his way of saying he’s not actually interested in you romantically but he’s too chicken to tell you? No, he wouldn’t do that, Sylus is one of the most direct people you know, if he didn’t like you, he’d just say so. So then why does it feel like he’s just stringing you along, when is he going to make you two official?
“MC?...MC?...” Luke’s voice snapped you out of your train of thought.
“What? sorry I was a little spaced out.” you turn to the twins standing above you while you sit at one of the tables of the Linkon Mall foodcourt.
“I said where do you want to go for lunch? There's so many choices” Luke gestured to the row of different restaurants among the foodcourt.
“We could always have the boss’s favourite, ever since you let him try your instant ramen that's all he asks the chefs to make for him when you’re away,” Kieran suggested as both boys took a seat next to you on the other side of the table. “There's a ramen place right over there”
“Umm… I’m not sure… I’m not really hungry right now” You looked vacantly across the mall foodcourt starting to space out again
“The boss said there's no limit to how much we can spend today so we don’t have to eat here. Or if you can’t decide on what to eat we can buy a bit of everything and you can taste them all” Kieran suggests while taking out Sylus’ black credit card from his pocket.
“You have to eat something, the boss doesn’t want you to skip meals he told us to make sure you eat something or else” Luke warned in a fake threatening voice.
“Well, I guess if I have to in order to save you two from Sylus’ wrath, then I want something homemade, not this cheap generic stuff, so let’s go back to the base and see what we can cook up, what do you say?”
“Anything for the Boss’s girlfriend,” Kieran said with a smile, he stood up and put out his arm for him to escort you to the car.
“Huh… what did you say?” You stopped reaching for Kieran’s arm at the word girlfriend.
“Anything for the boss’s …girlfriend…. I’m confused, are you not his girlfriend” Kieran looked embarrassed like he might have misread the situation.
“Well yeah…but .. he’s never said it before…so I didn’t think he thought of me as his girlfriend.” you stood awkwardly looking at the floor and playing with your hands.
“Of course he thinks of you that way he gets all smiley when he or anyone else mentions you. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the boss smile so much before you came along” Luke grabbed your bags as you guys started to head to the car. “The boss just has a hard time expressing his emotions. ” he mentioned brightly
“Yeah for the first year of us working for him he pretended not to remember our names cuz he didn’t want to seem soft, even tho he could already tell us apart after the first day even with our masks on.” Kieran said as he looked up to the sky like he was reminiscing on the Good-old-days
“But he always calls you his girlfriend around us”
“Right, he even calls you his girlfriend in the task memos he sends us” Luke shows you his phone with all the tasks set out by sylus. He clicks play and a voice recording of Sylus starts.
“1. As I’ll be away for the day take my girlfriend to the mall and get her anything she wants, to keep her happy
2. Make sure she eats something for lunch, she tends to skip meals and gets really tired halfway through the day because of it. If she doesn’t eat anything, a punishment will be waiting for you upon your return.
3. Carry everything for her no matter how much she buys, rent a truck if you have to, I don’t want her straining herself before tonight’s special event…”
“Wait” you click pause on Luke’s phone. “what event, he never told me about that.”
“Uhh…oops” Luke quickly puts away his phone “You weren’t supposed to hear that. Just pretend it didn’t happen”
Kieran slaps Luke’s arm “You idiot, that was supposed to be a surprise, the boss is gonna kill us”
“Just what is he planning?” you interrogate the twins. Both of them looked at each other as they opened the car door and helped you in.
“our lips are sealed.” they both said in unison while placing their fingers in an X over their lips
You guys were now in the car on the way back to the base. You’ve fallen silent thinking about this special event. just what kind of event was this? It couldn't be something bad, right? Was he breaking up with you? Is that why he let you use his card with no limit, to give you one final good day then he’d cut you off??? You couldn’t take the suspense anymore, you had to know. You took your phone out of your purse and called Sylus. Your phone was connected to the car’s speakers and Kieran saw that you were calling him and got a little nervous. Sylus picked up almost immediately.
“Yes, Sweetie? What's wrong, are Luke and Kieran not treating You well, do you need me to get rid of them for you? I’ve been looking for some new Henchmen anyway” He said with a chuckle
“Hey, we’re right here you know?” Kieran said in a hurt voice
“I know, that's why I said it” “Sylus joked
“And you wouldn’t get rid of us, right boss?” Luke asked, “We’re your favourite henchmen, right?”
Sylus completely ignores Luke's question “...So why did you call sweetie? Remember when I said I was very busy today and that we’d see each other later tonight?”
You didn’t want to beat around the bush so you got straight to the point.“Yeah, that’s what I wanted to ask about, what exactly is happening tonight? What's the Special event and why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
There was silence on the other end and then an annoyed groan. “Did you two tell her?” Sylus sounded like he was about to jump through the phone and punch both of them in the face.
“No boss we promise all she knows is that there’s an event tonight she doesn’t know anything else,” Kieran said frantically “Please don’t get rid of us”
Ignoring them again he sighed. “Where are you right now babe?”
“We were on our way to the base for lunch.” You informed him
“at least those two can do something right” he sighs. “Ok then I’ll be waiting for you at the base and I’ll explain everything.” *Click* he hangs up
Now you were even more curious, what was sylus planning?
“Do you think the boss is really gonna get rid of us?” Luke asked you in a scared voice.
“I doubt it, you guys mess up all the time and he hasn’t gotten rid of you yet, what's one more mess up” you say in a joking tone “Plus if he’s as nice as you say he is, then you don’t have anything to worry about.”
Later back at the base you all walk into the living room to see Sylus sitting on the couch reading a book. “Oh, you’re back.” Sylus puts down his book and pats the space next to him for you to join him on the couch. “Come, sit. Let’s talk.” as you sit he wraps an arm around your waist to pull you closer. He then looked up to where the twins were standing. “You two, I’ll deal with you later. Leave us be for now.”
“Yes boss.” they both say and hurriedly walk out of the room.
On the way to the base after the phone call you just couldn’t stop thinking about what this event could be and mixed with your thoughts from earlier you were only coming up with every bad result it could be. All those thoughts and emotions were boiling inside and before Sylus could say anything they overflowed “What are we?”
“Huh?” Sylus looked confused “Sweetie, what do you mean?”
“Why do you keep avoiding me and why won't you call me your girlfriend? Apparently, you’ll say it in front of everyone else but me.” You moved back so you were out of his grip
“Those two, I’ll fire them for sure this time,” He says under his breath.
“And what is this event? Why didn’t you tell me about it, is it about me? Did I do something wrong?” Your voice slightly cracked on the last word and your eyes started to get misty.
“Woah, slow down, if I knew it would make you feel like this I would have explained sooner.” He pulls you close again, holds your face in his palms and wipes your tears with his thumbs “First, We are Sylus and MC the strongest and most feared couple in the N109 Zone.” He chuckled. “Second, I’m sorry that I made you feel this way. I knew you were curious but I didn’t know the curiosity would get to you this much. I wasn’t avoiding you, I’ve been setting up the special event that I’ll tell you more about in due time. But, as for your third question…” Sylus pulls your head in closer and places a soft kiss on your lips that nearly takes your breath away. He pulls away and looks at you with a smirk “You’ve also never called me your boyfriend so I guess we’re even”
“Yeah well…I didn’t want to assume… I” You start to stutter both from the kiss and his accusation.
He stops you and places another kiss on your lips “I guess we both felt that way”
“So then what about the event?” you’re now sitting closer to him his hands on your waist to keep you close.
“Oh yeah, the event… I was gonna let you watch while I fire Luke and Kieran. I set up events every time I want to fire one of my men, why do you think I had you keep them out of the house the whole day?” He joked.
You softly slapped his chest and rolled your eyes “ I know you’re joking those two might be idiots but you’d never fire them. Come on seriously what is it really?”
“Ok, I'll tell you, if you can tell me something first, what day is it today? He asks, hoping you’ll know the answer.
“Uh, Sunday?” you say confused as to why this day of the week had any significance.
“You can’t even remember yet you want me to call you my girlfriend,” Sylus said pretending to be offended “It’s the anniversary of when a little kitten first wandered into the N109 Zone and…” he pulls you into a hug “ into my life”
#I like to imagine that Luke and Kieran were outside the door listening in cuz they were scared Sylus was gonna actually fire them lol#love and deepspace sylus#l&ds#lnds#love and deep space#luke and kieran#love and deepspace luke and kieran#sylus#love and deepspace#cute#sylusxMC#Sylus x reader#Love and deepspace fluff#love and deepspace angst#creative writing#writing#love and deepspace headcanon#headcannons#love and deepspace scenarios
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Acting Out Of Love
Based on this request
Your husband Daemon and you have an ugly fight after which you don't speak to each other. Your children are quick to notice it though and come up with a plan to make you reconcile.
I loved this request and I had so so much fun writing this so thank you very much <3 Also, please feel free to send me your requests and tell me what you would like me to write
Contains: angst, fighting, fluff
Wordcount: ~5.67k
Masterlist
You had your lips pressed together and head turned away.
Your hand gripped the edge of the table tightly, anger controlling your senses and you felt so heated that you just wished for a cold rain soaking your body.
"I said no, Daemon.", you hissed at him.
Your husband had his eyes closed as if he tried to calm himself but it clearly didn't worked because he pushed himself away from the wall against which he had rested and restlessly walked back and forth.
"And I'm asking you once again, why?! Why, y/n?"
You exhaled loudly and threw your hands in the air. "Because she is too young. I can't believe I even have to discuss this with you. Visenya is 8 years old. Not old enough to climb on a dragon on her own. She can fly with you but she is not going to take off with Sirmai alone."
He rolled his eyes. "Gods be good, y/n! Our daughter is made of fire. She belongs on that dragonback. It's where she is alive."
You laughed out madly and approached him with quick steps.
"Yes. I want her to be alive. And if she is on that dragon alone nothing can assure me that she'll get back on the ground alive."
Daemon shook his head and lowered his head. "Visenya claimed Sirmai, she is not going to get her in danger."
"But she is eight, Daemon! Saena was 10 when we first let her fly on Cloudchaser and Wyllam as well."
Your husband raised his chin and defiantly chewed on his buttom lip. "Visenya is tough. And she wants it too."
You threw your head back. "This is so stupid, Daemon. I said no. I'm her mother and I'm not going to risk my daughter's life because you act irresponsible and emotional and without reason."
"Oh so I'm the bad father now, is that what you're trying to say?"
You crossed your arms in front of your chest.
"No, but it in this case, yes. You're putting your honor as a Targaryen and as a dragonrider above Visenya's well-being."
Now it was Daemon who laughed and rubbed his tired eyes. "I can't believe you just said that…" He abruptly turned around and lifted his finger to point at you.
"I love our daughter as much as a father can love his child. But she is ready and maybe you can't see that but I can. I'm telling you, we should allow her to mount Sirmai."
You shook your head, trying to make your expression look as cold as possible. "No, Daemon. I will not allow it and so it's not going to happen."
He exhaled loudly and shook his head in disbelief.
"And I can't believe you are always coming up with that 'she's meant for it as a Targaryen'. Yes, the blood of the dragon runs in her veins but that doesn't mean that you can use that fact as a justification. She is still my daughter and as much as I respect Targaryen tradition, she is still half dornish and sometimes I have the feeling that you think of your side as superior and more distinctive."
He turned to walk away from you. "This is stupid…"
You glared at him and narrowed your eyes. "No it's not, Daemon."
"It is and I have no desire to listen to any more of your childish outbursts. I'm going to bed now."
You watched him with flashing eyes as he hasted through your chambers but before he passed you you held out your arm to stop him. Your head hit his chest and his eyes shot down to meet yours.
"You will not sleep in here tonight.", you whispered dangerously and Daemon frowned.
"You're not being serious, are you?" But you remained persistend and gestured to the door.
"I am. I don't want you in here."
He grinded his teeth and his eyes twinkled and yet he did as you had demanded and was quick to leave your chambers.
Once he was outside you inhaled deeply and sat down on a chair. You closed your eyes in a desperate attempt to make your boiling blood calm down but it took you some time until you opened them and you were able to think normally again.
~~~~~~~~~~
You saw your husband again the next day for breakfast. Your children were playing by the fire surrounded by maids and servants and septas and when you entered Daemon was just reading a piece of parchment but lowered it when he saw you.
You on the other hand completely ignored him and didn't look at him for a mere second. You had decided to give him the silent treatment and just act like he wasn't there. So instead of giving him a morning kiss like you usually would have done you walked to your children and caressed your daughter Saena's dark hair.
Your children were a mixture of your husband's and your features. While Visenya, Wyllam and Meradith came more after Daemon and his Targaryen looks, your eldest daughter Saena and Orlyn had your thick brown hair and darker eyes and skin as their siblings. Meralith on the other hand was the pure image of her father. Silver straight hair, light eyes and the only difference to Daemon was her darker tan. The girl would soon turn 6 and you lovingly watched your children while ignoring your husband's presence.
Orlyn, your youngest just brought you a little dragon that his uncle had gifted him for his name day and pulled it through the air.
"I called him Aero, mother. And when I have my dragon one day I'll call him Aero too."
You smiled softly and caressed your son's shoulder. "That's a name fit for a fierce dragon, my darling."
Your son smiled contendly and babbled something while shifting his attention to his toy again. You straightened up again now and walked towards the breakfast table, still not giving a glance at Daemon. He on the other hand watched your every move but when he realized what it was you were doing he lowered his head as well and folded his hands in front of him.
He was way too proud to give in and talk to you. He was pissed and hurt (even if he wouldn't admit it) but definitely wouldn't communicate with you about his feelings now that you seemed so indifferent. So his expression changed to cold as well and he leaned back in his chair grabbing the parchment once more and fixed his eyes on the letter beneath him. If you were to treat him like this he would play along.
~~~~~~~~~~
The next days you spent almost entirely ignoring each other. Of course you saw Daemon during the meals and when you spent time with your children but you didn't say more than necessary, never looked at him and especially never exchanged any sort of loving affection. You were stubborn and still furious and wanted him to feel that.
In your head Daemon had acted unreasonable and childish and you just hated it because you felt like he didn't actually listen to you. Why was it that you always had to keep a light head while he came up with dangerous ideas and plans and acted as if you were too controlling and scared. You weren't scared, you simply wanted your children to be safe, seven hells.
Daemon on the other hand was equally angry and couldn't understand your behaviour any better. To him, his suggestion was the perfect proof of his love to his children and he simply knew that Visenya would be perfectly fine on her dragon. He felt like you were controlling him and taking part in a piece of his family history that you just couldn't understand that well because you weren't a dragon rider yourself. Daemon was secretly hurt because in his understanding you were trying to claim that part of his identity and that translated in his anger.
And yet through all of his fury, he couldn't help but glance at you when you entered a room. Just like you also took care of him from afar, he had to make sure that you were alright, that you were eating enough and that you weren't overwhelmed with taking care of the children.
One time you didn't attend supper and Daemon had been worried when he found out that you had a headache. Everything inside of his screamed to approach you to take care of you but he couldn't get over his pride and he also wasn't sure whether you would even want him there.
So instead of visiting you, Daemon sent servants to your rooms every 10 minutes and ordered them to make sure you were fine and ask you whether you needed anything. In the meantime the prince walked up and down in his chambers and nervously nibbled at his nails. He hated this so much but what was he to do? He was a stubborn and proud person and remained angry with you. He certainly wouldn't be the first one to give and come apologizing.
~~~~~~~~~~
Four days after your fight, things shifted though because while Daemon tied his hair in the morrow there was a knock on the door.
A part of him hoped that it was you who finally wanted to discuss things but once he had ordered the person to come in the door slowly opened. He turned to see who it was and his face softened when he saw his daughters one by one peeking into the room. Daemon smiled gently and gestured them to come in. The three girls walked to their father who sat down on a chair and lifted his eyebrows at their careful and uncertain expressions.
"What is it, girls? You seem serious."
Saena, your eldest daughter nibbled at her thumb while glaring at her sisters.
"I-Is there something wrong?"
Daemon frowned. "What do you mean, darling?"
Now it was Meralith who stared at her father with big eyes and seemingly was sad. "You almost haven't spoken to mommy yesterday. And the day before. And the day before.", she mumbled and Daemon felt a little stitch in his heart.
He reached down to grab the girl under her arms and lifed her onto his lap. Then he caressed her silver hair out of her face and determindly looked into his daughters' eyes.
"Everything is fine, girls. Your mother and I have been very stressed the past days and sometimes there isn't a lot of time to talk to each other. But we cherish and love every second we get to see each other, alright?"
The only one who looked a little more relieved was Meralith on his lap but Saena and Visenya frowned and pouted.
"But it's never like that.", Visenya claimed and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "You never talk to mother or kiss her or even look at her."
Daemon shook his head. "I promise you that we have everything under control. In a few days there will be less things going on and your mother and I will have more time for each other again. You on the other hand – " He caressed his daughter's head. "Don't need to worry about anything."
Visenya sighed while Saena still looked suspicious but the three girls decided not to uphold the discussion any longer and told their father they would go in the gardens to play now. Daemon nodded feeling relieved and told them he would have to attend a small council meeting and reminded them of their lessons with their septa later.
What the rogue prince didn't know was that you just had had quite a similar conversation with your sons only a few feet away. Because Wyllam and Orlyn had knocked on your door even earlier. Orlyn with his four years was your youngest child and Wyllam had come to you with him because his brother had felt very anxious the past days because just like his sisters, he had sensed that his parents weren't on good terms with each other.
And so you had assured your sons that everything was perfectly fine, just as Daemon had your daughters. Of course you knew that you shouldn't lie to your children but this whole situation was already exhausting enough so you didn't additionally need your children to suffer from this. It was easier that way. Telling them that mommy and daddy were fine and they didn't have to worry about anything. And perhaps you would be. Maybe.
But Daemon and you didn't know that your children were way too smart to be tricked like that. They had left the both of you alone and pretended to believe you to some extent but once your three daughters had left Daemon's room and walked outside the castle to sit on a bench in the gardens Visenya looked at her older sister with a deep frown between her eyebrows.
"Do you believe father, Sae?", she asked and Saena thoughtfully bit her buttom lip.
"I don't know. I can't believe that we imagined this."
Tears were glistening in Meralith's eyes as she pulled at her sister's sleeve. "I-I want mommy and daddy to love each other.", she whimpered and Saena caringly wrapped her arms around the little girl.
"It's fine, Mera. They do love each other." But then she turned to Visenya again.
"But if father says so we are to believe him. He says we shouldn't worry and maybe – "
But her sister crossed her arms in front of her chest. "I don't care what he says. I know that something's wrong."
Meralith stared at her other sister now and pouted. "B-But no… Please Sae, do something."
Her eldest sister sighed and chewed on her lower lip. She wanted to say something when they were interrupted by their brother Wyllam who had sneaked up on his sisters from behind a tree.
"Arghhh.", he made and Saena shrieked. "Oh Wyllam, stop it."
Her brother laughed and held his stomach while Visenya angrily flashed her eyes at him.
"Not funny at all.", she hissed.
Orlyn stumbled towards his sister behind his brother and as with his sister Meralith tears swam in his eyes. Wyllam turned to him and then sighed.
"He is sad all the time and I wanted to play with him but he didn't want to so I thought you could take him."
Visenya reared up in front of him. "So you thought you could just bring him to us whenever he bores you?"
Her brother rolled his eyes and attempted to pat her head but the girl pushed away his hand. "Relax, sister. You are… girls. You are better with emotions."
That made Visenya jump at Wyllam and her fists came down to hit him in his stomach.
"I make you feel emotions now, you little – " Saena came forward and wrapped her arms around her sister to pull her back.
"Oh stop it, the both of you." Being older and stronger Saena was able to separate the fighting siblings and then once everyone was at calm again and Wyllam and Visenya only angrily glared at each other the eldest sibling kneeled down in front of Orlyn.
"What is it, little brother?" The boy sucked on his thumb and stared up to his sister without bringing out a word.
Wyllam shrugged. "It's because of mother and father. He believes they are fighting because they haven't spoken that much and now his whole world has been destroyed."
He rolled his eyes and indifferently plucked an apple from a nearby tree which he examined closely for holes or worms.
"Oh Orlyn.", Saena sighed and hugged her brother.
"I don't think there is reason to worry though.", said Saena then. "We've spoken to father and everything is fine between them."
Visenya cleared her throat while her youngest brother looked from one sibling to the other. "At least that's what he said. I believe that they have fought. It's always like this when they fight."
Saena shifted her attention from Orlyn to her sister. "What do you mean, always? They don't fight often."
Visenya rolled her eyes. "Yes, I know. But when it happens they always ignore each other. Like today and the day before."
Saena tiredly rubbed her eyes. "I mean… Maybe you are right after all. I sensed something as well but I thought now that father has claimed that we shouldn't worry…"
Wyllam had started to eat his apple but now that even his eldest sister doubted their parents' reassurances he also looked a little worried.
"I've taken Orlyn to mother in the morrow. He was so sad that I thought if we spoke to her, mother could calm him. But though she did, Orlyn remained panicky."
Visenya lifted her eyebrows. "You've spoken to mother? And she said that as well?"
Wyllam nodded. "Yes. She said that her and father were perfectly fine."
Saena put a hand to her lip and hummed to herself. "What should we do now?"
Everyone stared at each other as if they would find a solution in their sibling's faces but no one came forward with a suggestion. It was Meralith who opened her mouth first.
"I want mommy and daddy to love each other again.", she whispered again with her eyes dropped to the ground. Saena, who felt the most responsible and caring towards her siblings took a step towards her sister and pressed the girl's head to her chest.
"They still love each other even when they're fighting, Mera. They are just not talking at the moment but they are still in love, do you understand me?"
Saena kissed her hair and felt her sister nod slightly. So she pulled back, having made sure that Meralith was fine and questioningly looked around in the circle. Visenya cleared her throat and rested her hands on her hips.
"We should do something. Give them no choice but to talk to each other."
Wyllam agreed and nodded. "We could lock them in the same room.", he suggested but Saena shook her head.
"That goes too far, brother. And how would you even do it? No, we have to come up with something else. Though I'm not sure if we even should interfere…"
Visenya rolled her eyes and walked back and forth. "Of course we should interfere, sister. Otherwise they're never gonna speak again."
Her youngest siblings looked shocked at her words and fearfully stared at her with big eyes.
"Stop scaring them.", complained Saena. "She is not being serious.", she then spoke to Meralith and Orlyn. "Of course mother and father are going to speak again."
Then the eldest girl sighed and looked at Visenya. "Fine. Maybe we could try it. We should make them talk again."
Her sister nodded contendly and clapped her hands. "Perfect. I already have a plan."
Wyllam frowned. "You do?"
She nodded and pointed at Orlyn. "What is your favourite game?"
The boy widened his eyes and his gaze wandered over his sibling. "Hide and seek."
Visenya nodded. "Exactly. Mother and father will notice that Orlyn is feeling a little weary and sad. So he will go them, perhaps separately and tell them that he would love to play a round of hide and seek with the whole family." She smiled mischieviously. "And then we will manipulate the game so mother and father are in the same team. Then they will have no choice but to talk again and everything will be fine."
The girl smiled proudly and looked from Saena to Wyllam waiting for their admirations but her sister frowned.
"What if they don't have the time? Or they don't want to? Father said it himself, they're very stressed at the moment."
But Visenya shook her head and sighed. "You forget that this was only an excuse, sister. And Orlyn just has to be persistent with them."
"I can do that.", her brother claimed and raised his chin.
Wyllam also thoughtfully hummed. "But what if they won't talk? They can play the game with us and still just ignore each other…"
Visenya realized that he had a point and his sisters remained silent for a moment. Then it was Saena who shrugged.
"We could try it though, right? It's not a perfect plan but it's better than doing nothing."
Visenya nodded enthusiastically while Wyllam hesitatingly tilted his head but it was decided. Meralith and Orlyn were seemingly merely glad that something was happening to make their parents reconcile and so in the afternoon Orlyn shyly knocked at your door while your handmaidens were brushing your hair that always got so messy over the day.
When you saw who it was you smiled softly and sent away your servants. Your son still looked a little sad so you took him into your arms, lifted him and caressed his dark hair.
"My sweet boy.", you purred while holding him closely to you. Orlyn crouched against your neck which made you close your eyes simply enjoying the closeness to your youngest child.
"Mommy?", he then hummed against your neck after a while and you felt the vibrations in your whole body.
"Yes, love?"
"Can we play a game in the gardens? Please."
You sighed and drew your face in a painful smile. "Oh Orlyn, it's really… I have so much to do…"
Your son pouted at you and you felt a little stitch in your heart at his dissatisfied expression. "Please mommy."
You chuckled at his dark puppy eyes that looked so much like your little sister's and suddenly you remembered the way she had looked at you as a child when she used to ask you to play with her and so you knew you couldn't refuse your son.
"Alright, sweetling. What do you want to play?"
Your son shrieked excitedly which made you deepen your smile and his hands grabbed your shoulders.
"I want to play hide and seek. With Meralith and Wyllam and Visenya and Saena."
You nodded and put Orlyn back to his feet. "Fine. As you wish, love."
And so the two of you walked out of your chambers and to the gardens where your other children were already waiting. You hadn't lied when you said that you had a lot of things to do, but when Orlyn had come to you earlier to ask about Daemon and you, you had sensed that your son was feeling a little worried and anxious, even after you had assured him that everything was the way it was supposed to be. And so you had decided to make some time for your youngest son to give him your love and affection and make sure he didn't feel sad and concerned anymore.
Now you stood with your children but just when you were about to ask them what teams each of you were playing in Orlyn excused himself. You didn't see the wink that was exchanged between your son and Visenya because their plan was it to get your husband now and in that way give Daemon and you no choice but to talk about your differences.
You didn't know that though and just watched your son haste inside the castle with a surprised expression but were quickly distracted by Meralith who showed you a bunch of beautiful flowers she had collected. You admired and complimented each of it and were leaned down to closely examine the flowers when suddenly your daughter shrieked and twitched. A bee had stung her on her arm and tears filled her eyes at once.
"Owww.", she cried and you were shocked when you saw the sting starting to swell.
"Oh no no.", you made and grabbed your daughter's arm to look at the sting. The girl cried panicky while your other children gathered around their sister.
"What is it, mother?", Wyllam asked concerned and you kneeled in front of Meralith.
"Saena, get the grand maester. Quickly."
Your eldest daughter looked equally shocked as your other children and swiftly ran off inside the castle.
"It's alright, sweet girl.", you tried to sooth Meralith even though you felt really scared yourself. Her whole arm was swollen by now and your daughter looked pale in her face though you weren't sure if it might be caused by her shock.
"Everything will be fine, Mera. Just look at me and breathe."
You had to keep a clear head and clam your children who all nervously wandered around and Wyllam had started nibble at his thumb, a habit he had since he was a young boy.
"Mother what's happening? It looks so scary.", he asked.
You caressed Meralith's shoulders and tried to breathe steadily. "It's just a bee sting. Saena will be back soon with the grand maester and then everything will be fine."
Your daughter's cheeks were coated with her tears and you just prayed that your words would turn out to be truthful. And then finally your eldest daughter returned, old grand maester Simon hasting behind her. He was breathless and held his chest as he kneeled down in front of your daughter.
"Oh gods be good. What happened here?", the old man asked and Meralith's lower lip trembled.
You took a step back to let Simon take a look at the sting and wrapped your arm around Wyllam and Visenya. Anxiously you bit your lip and waited while watching the grand maester doing his work when there was suddenly someone else entering the gardens. You had totally forgotten about Orlyn and the fact that he had mysteriously left the scene to get back to the castle but now your son walked out with Daemon.
All of a sudden there was a tightness in your throat and you felt the need to cry and just hug your husband. He narrowed his eyes when he understood the scene and hurried to Meralith who was still crying.
"Darling! What happened?"
It wasn't you who answered though you wanted to. Simon explained it to Daemon while your youngest frightened son ran to you and pressed himself to your legs. You petted his hair while you watched Daemon talking to his daughter with his eyebrows drawn together. His hands held hers tightly and then you head Simon speak again.
"First she should go to bed now and rest. I'll bring the medicine that she might require."
And so your husband picked your daughter up from the ground and carried her inside with Simon following close behind. For a brief moment Daemon and your eyes met and all he could see was the worry and angst on your face. Then they were inside and as much as you wanted to hurry inside too to by at your daughter's side, you had to calm and be there for your other children now.
~~~~~~~~~~
And that you did. You stayed with Orlyn, Wyllam, Saena and Visenya by the fireplace, read them from their favourite books and assured them that their sister would be fine.
It had gotten late and soon Wyllam expressed that he was tired and wanted to go to bed so that was what you did next. It took some time bringing each child to their rooms, covering them up with their blanket (the only exception was Visenya who insisted that she was old enough to do it herself), wishing them a good night and promising them that in the morrow they could see Meralith.
It was the hour of the owl when Saena drifted off to sleep and you sighed as you left her chambers. Your plan was to finally look after Meralith but just when you were about to enter her rooms grand maester Simon opened the door and put his finger to his lips.
"Shh. She has just fallen asleep."
He closed the door behind him so you didn't have a chance to peek inside the room.
"How is she? Please, I need to see her."
Simon looked pitiful as he shook his head. "She is fine, my lady. She will be fine. But you shouldn't disturb her now, it has taken hours until she was calm enough to drift away to sleep."
You exhaled bitterly. Everything was just so overwhelming and the worry about your daughter restricted the air coming to your lungs.
"Fuck.", you breathed because you had held back your emotions all evening and now all you wanted was to see that Meralith was fine and not even that you could do.
"I'm sorry. But she needs her rest, I recommend you come and see her first thing in the morrow."
You nodded though you felt disappointed and sad. Simon bowed his head and then turned to walk away from you. You were left feeling cold and lonely and in desperation. You inhaled a few times and then unwillingly returned to your chambers.
Once you were there you felt empty and numb but knew that you wouldn't be able to sleep now. You wished you could fall asleep next to your daughter because you were certain that her presence was all you needed right now to be calm. Knowing that you were denied that, you walked up and down in your chambers so close to tears but they just wouldn't spill for some reason.
Suddenly there was a knock on your door and absently you called "Come."
Only after the words had left your mouth did you realized what you had done. You couldn't bare the presence of anyone who was not Meralith right now and you wanted to slap yourself for not thinking before speaking.
But when the door opened your eyes rounded and it felt as though a weight dropped from your heart.
Daemon stood in the door watching you with tired eyes that in an instant made a warmth spread in your body. The lump in your throat seemed to somehow increase in size and now you felt that the tears started to form in the corner of your eyes.
You saw him gulp and then walk towards you and without speaking a word Daemon wrapped his arms around you. You held him equally tightly and for a moment you felt so relaxed and at calm that you forgot every worry or concern and the comfort of his body so close to yours made a few tears escape your eyes.
"She'll be fine, y/n.", Daemon hummed against your hair and you nodded against him.
"Yes. Yes, she will be."
Then you pulled away from him but still had your hands on his shoulders. "Did you see her? Is she in pain?"
Daemon smiled softly and caressed your back. "I did see her. She was scared but… no, she wasn't in great pain."
Then he pressed you against his chest again so you felt the warmth of his body and now you realized how much you had missed him these past days. Gods, how had you done it? How had you survived without laying next to him at nights, without smelling his familiar scent?
"I'm sorry, y/n.", he now whispered against your ear and your thumb soothed his collarbone.
"Me too.", you said and then once again pulled back to watch your husband.
"I know that all you did was act out of love for Visenya. I'm sorry for what I accused you of and I know that I perhaps was too hasty and I… I didn't think about what I was asking of you.", Daemon stuttered and you smiled softly.
"And I shouldn't have said that you were acting like a bad father. I know that you're not."
He grabbed your hand while watching you with these puppy eyes that immediately made you melt.
"I know that you're right. Our daughter should always be safe and I-I don't know what possessed me. There's nothing wrong with waiting another year until she will mount her dragon and I want her to be safe too. I just… I guess I just felt hurt hearing you speak about how dangerous it is to be on dragonback. It felt like you thought of dragonriders as ridiculous and imprudent. And then... I thought you were trying to take this part of me and my identity away. And then maybe I was scared that you would never allow Visenya to mount her dragon and that made me act irrational and emotional. Gods… I know that it was so childish of me to come forward with this idea and stubbornly insist on it."
He kissed the back of your hand and then you reached up to hold the side of his beautiful face.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to feel you like that. And I know that you acted out of love as well. I know that you're proud of your family and your traditions and I respect that so much, love. I know that you want Visenya to carry this tradition as well and share it with her and just like you, I can't wait until she will. I don't think of dragonriders as imprudent. I think of them as fierce and brave and I know that Visenya will do an amazing job."
His eyes lovingly looked into yours and he squeezed your hand tightly.
"Thank you.", he merely spoke and then you leaned forward to kiss Daemon on his lips.
That night you didn't throw out Daemon. That night you didn't feel cold or lonely.
That night you held your husband tightly with his arms wrapped around your back while your hands were buried in his hair. You both knew that it would probably get way too warm in the night because a thick blanket was additionally covering the both of you but you didn't care. All you wanted was to feel Daemon again and so you drew patterns on his scalp while the both of you drifted away with your thoughts.
"I love you, y/n. So much."
You smiled with closed eyes. "I love you too, Daemon."
And then you fell asleep with your last thought being that you promised yourself you would never let such a stupid fight get between you.
#daemon fanfic#daemon x reader#hotd#hotd daemon#daemon targaryen#house of the dragon#daemon targaryen smut#daemon smut#daemon fic#prince daemon targaryen#daemon imagine#daemon x oc#daemon x you#daemon x y/n#daemon targaryen fanfic#smut#daemon targaryen x reader#daemon targaryen x oc#daemon targaryen imagine#daemon targeryan#daemon targaryen fic#daemon targaryen x female reader#daemon targaryen x y/n#house of the dragon fanfiction#rogue prince#daemon targeryen x reader#hotd fanfic#hotd x reader#house of the dragon fanfic
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Double Lives
Damian was certain that his wife was keeping a secret from him.
He trusted her with his life, of course—Marinette had kept a number of things from him in the earlier stages of their relationship, like her experience and trauma in Paris. He knew not to pry, and eventually she opened up. He was glad that some burden was taken off her shoulders.
But this was different. She was deliberately trying not to get caught; she took care to hide her phone from his view, and there were days she'd come home very late. When asked, she'd get irritable but also nervous around him. Damian didn't want to assume things right off the bat, but he did hope she would finally grow comfortable to talk it out with him. And so he resisted using his ‘resources’ to peek into her life—what kind of distrusting partner would he be if he did that?
He knew, too, that he was being awfully hypocritical. He was still yet to sit her down and reveal his vigilante alter ego to her as well as his family's. Damian would swear he planned to rip the bandaid off when they got engaged. But he couldn't bring himself to do it, out of the fear that she'd leave him. As far as he knew, Marinette wanted a normal quiet life after living through the Evil Butterfly Man's reign of terror. Telling her his identity would just put a target on her back, if there wasn't any already after she became a Wayne.
He couldn't imagine his sweet innocent wife exposed to the horrors of vigilantism.
Still, even though he had his own secrets, it felt quite frustrating not to know hers. That was what Damian was thinking one dark night when the door finally opened, signalling her arrival from work.
“Damian?” Her eyes widened. “Why are you still up? You shouldn't have waited for me.”
“It's alright. I couldn't sleep anyways.” And I will be sneaking out for patrol later. He stood up to kiss her cheek—
But froze upon seeing a red mark right at the base of her neck.
Marinette hummed tiredly. “Next time, don't wait for me if you're tired, okay?”
“. . . What's that on your neck?” He dared to ask.
Her hand immediately flew to the spot on her skin. For a split second, her expression changed into a hint of annoyance. “It's—it's . . .” she stammered, “I accidentally hit myself.”
“You hit yourself?”
She nodded meekly.
Damian stared at her for a moment. There was one thing he knew about his wife: she was a bad liar. But she was expert at omitting things, partly because she probably knew he wouldn't interrogate her further. He knew that she was aware it was the vaguest of explanations but she never tried to elaborate.
He mustered out a smile. “Be careful next time.”
She let out a nervous laugh and squeaked out a ‘yes’.
“By the way.” He took a deep breath, “I visited your office this morning.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, and your secretary told me you hadn't punched in for the day yet.”
The silence between them was thick.
“Ah . . .” Damian could practically see the gears turning in her head. “That was . . . erm, I had to run an errand before work! Yeah . . .”
“I see. I was hoping to have lunch with you earlier but it seems that you're busy nowadays.”
She cursed in French under her breath.
“I'm really sorry, Damian.” She fidgeted with her fingers. “I'll make time this week. I promise.”
She hurried off to their bedroom, leaving Damian with his thoughts.
He really really didn't want to assume the worst. But his heart was racing and when he looked at the signs, they were clear as day. His mind started to spiral a little, wondering where he could've gone wrong, wondering if he didn't spend enough time on her or if she felt that he wasn't giving enough effort.
But he pushed all those thoughts away and followed her to bed.
***
One Saturday afternoon saw Robin and Superboy in the Watchtower's breakroom, talking about Damian's predicament. He hoped his friend could at least contribute an objective outsider's perspective in his dilemma and encourage him to broach the topic with Marinette.
“She's cheating,” Superboy deadpanned.
“She's—she's not,” he argued back, “Perhaps I am just reading too much into it . . .”
“Um but the hickey? The late night escapades?” Superboy frowned. “I don't know about you, but I don't think there's any other explanation for it.”
Robin bit his tongue. No, it's not possible. He loved Marinette terribly, and he knew—he could feel the same love from her if not more.
His friend sighed, “Look, I know it's hard to believe. Even I don't think M can be . . . unfaithful but you should confront her about it.”
“I can't. I can't face her like that when I am still keeping a secret of my own.”
“Then tell her you're Robin. A secret for a secret, hm?”
Robin didn't even want to think about how messy that conversation would be.
“It's all just about communication,” Superboy continued. “If you're worried she won't accept you, take my mom and dad as an example—”
He stopped talking, indicating that he sensed another presence nearby. Just on cue, a fuming Ladybug stomped into the breakroom, heading straight to one of the refrigerators.
The two men watched as she muttered angrily while looking around for food—Robin could see the clear exhaustion on her tensed figure. The Parisian heroine had joined the Justice League after the Hawkmoth fiasco became public; the heroes were quick to recruit her but not before she voiced out her complaints about the League neglecting her city. Though she hadn't revealed her identity to anyone, she had formed bonds with the other heroes her age, not excluding Robin and Superboy.
Superboy winced when she kicked the fridge door.
Ladybug did a hundred eighty, showing both the fires of hell and sleepless nights in her blue eyes. “You don't happen to have an extra stock of Kryptonite, do you?”
Superboy looked at her warily. “What happened this time?”
“Your dad assigned me to another magic-involved mission!” She tugged at her hair, sitting beside them. “I thought I made it clear I didn't want to be involved in too many missions especially if it's non-miraculous related ones!”
“You could . . . tell him that?”
She shot a sharp glare at them. “You don't think I did? They're insisting it's miraculous related when Constantine hasn't even confirmed anything! Just because Paris was terrorized, it doesn't mean miraculi are going to pop out from everywhere! These missions are affecting my normal life!”
It was a common complaint for heroes who had alternate civilian lives, but Robin was a bit surprised that she was that open about her feelings.
“And—and Batman too!” She pointed a finger at Robin. “I know Monsieur Furry's guilty about the Paris thing and all and me not having a mentor but he keeps checking on my progress after missions liked a damned helicopter parent! “
Before either of them could reply, she continued ranting, “I was going to meet an important client yesterday but they just had to call me in to help with the mission! And then it goes on until freaking midnight! What about my precious sleep?! Then Zatanna accidentally used a spell on me—it hit my neck and now it looks like a hickey!”
Her head dropped onto the table. “How the fuck do I fucking explain that to my husband?!”
Robin and Superboy looked at each other, wide-eyed.
“You—you haven't told your husband that you're a hero?” Superboy asked carefully.
Not lifting up her head, she replied with a muffled voice, “Of course not! I can't do that to him! He's already exposed to enough danger because of his last name! I just can't tell him ‘ hey mon amour so I'm actually that heroine from Paris on top of my emotional PTSD!’”
Robin swallowed. That was Marinette's name for him.
It ticked too many boxes.
He started to subconsciously connect the dots: catching his wife absent at work at the time the magic-wielding team of the JL was away on a mission; Ladybug sharing that she finally linked up messages from her yoyo to her personal phone; his wife coming home late, tired and fatigued from head to toe when all she was supposed to be doing was designing.
“I'm sure he'll come to understand your circumstances,” Superboy consoled.
“He won't.” The heroine sat up, revealing that her eyes were now welling up with tears. “He probably hates me right now because I'm sending the wrong signals. What if he thinks I'm just taking advantage of him for his money? His family already hates me! What if he's filing for a divorce right now?”
Robin felt the nudge from his friend, as if to tell him to do damage control. Superboy abruptly stood up, spouted out an excuse about being called by someone, and left the room to the two of them.
Ladybug sniffed, “Sorry, you probably didn't want to hear all of that.”
“It helps to get your problems off your chest.” Robin awkwardly patted her head. In truth, she was really Marinette, he wanted to pull her into a hug already.
He coughed. “Why—why do you think your husband's family hates you?”
“Oh . . . I don't know, but his father’s always distant. Whenever I'm at a family dinner, they're just very quiet,” she replied sadly. “I know they're good people but I felt like I didn't belong somehow. My husband keeps saying they adore me though.”
Robin wanted to sigh out loud. His father still had his guard up because he believed she was a civilian, hence there was a side of her family they could never show her. It was always quiet due to Alfred's stern lecture about behaving in front of Marinette lest they accidentally spill something they shouldn't.
“It sounds like your husband cares a lot about you,” he told her, “Don't you think he would trust you if you told him the truth?”
“But I can't! I don't know where to begin!” She pursed her lips. “He's always been good to me and he never steps the line even if I'm obviously lying. I just . . . I thought I could tell him before we got married but I was too scared and I didn't want to ruin what we had.”
“But he won't think any differently of you, would he?”
“No . . .”
“Then you have nothing to be afraid of.” He smiled a little. “It may come off as a shock at first but he will accept it in time. You will be stressing yourself out even more if you keep thinking about the worst scenarios.”
She stared at him. “When did you get so wise?”
“Ever since I started thinking about what my wife was doing.”
She tilted her head. “Huh?”
It was unmistakable. Those gleaming blue eyes were Marinette's.
He was such an idiot.
“She keeps coming home late, hides her phone every time I'm near,” he listed, gauging her reaction. “Last night, I found out she hadn't come to her office even when she said she was working, and I caught her with a strange mark on her neck.”
Her eyes slowly widened as she seemed to come to the same realization. The heroine's gloved hands flew up to cover her mouth. “Damian?” she whispered.
He checked if the coast was clear and slowly peeled off his domino mask to show his full face. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you habib –”
He was cut off by her warm lips, her arms winding around his neck. Damian immediately melted into her touch, relieved that they finally divulged their secrets. He wouldn't have to be worried about introducing her to the hero world after all.
He was extremely relieved, in fact, that he hadn't noticed his father and eldest brother stroll into the room.
“ROBIN! Are you cheating on your wife?!”
Robin pulled away from Ladybug, withholding a sigh of exasperation. He put his mask back on and turned around to see Batman looking constipated and Nightwing utterly shocked.
"How could you do that to—to . . ." Nightwing cried out.
"Leave us." He glared.
"Robin—" His father's voice was tinged with disapproval.
"Leave. Us."
Fortunately, the two scurried off. Damian faced his wife, who seemed as flabbergasted. He was worried since it was her identity that was at risk, unless he embraced the unexpected cheating allegations.
"Oh my kwamis," Ladybug said softly, "I called my father-in-law a furry ."
"It's deserved." He rubbed up and down her shoulders. "What do you want to do?"
"Oh um . . ." She ducked her head. "Maybe go home and I'll—I'll explain everything from the beginning."
***
Damian had to recount his life story after his wife shared hers whilst they cuddled in bed. After they talked, he was surprised to learn so many new things about her—he thought he had her memorized already, even before they exchanged vows. At the same time, he was mentally kicking himself for thinking that Marinette was never closely involved in the war against Hawkmoth.
Of course she was Ladybug.
Of course she was a hero.
So while she was spiraling at the number of times she'd unknowingly mocked her in-laws in the suit, he was regretting not telling her the truth sooner. If they'd opened up years ago, he would've stayed by her side during missions, helping her deal with the troubles of having a masked alter egos, and sharing his own experiences with her. A stronger bond would've formed between them, because they both understood the hero's life after all this time.
Not long after, she finally decided she was ready to tell the Waynes who she was. ‘It would do more harm than good if I kept hiding it anyway,’ she reasoned. He did agree, since she was part of the family, both as Ladybug and Marinette. The others would surely be overjoyed (and less overprotective) if they found out that she was a hero. What Damian found strange, however, was Marinette seemed to worry that Bruce's opinion on her would change and he'd become ‘distant’ as Batman as well.
“Remember, Batman is afraid of you,” he had reminded her over and over again.
(And Batman would be ecstatic to discover that Ladybug was his daughter-in-law, but Damian would never tell her that. The caped vigilante had grown fussy over the Parisian heroes as his way of ‘making up’ for the Paris incidents . . . But at the same time, he cowered ever so slightly when Ladybug raised her voice on him. Damian's siblings blamed Ladybug's black hair and blue eyes for triggering the adopt-itis.)
And so Damian and Marinette decided to arrange a family lunch to break the news to everyone. It was then Damian remembered that there was one issue he hadn't resolved yet.
“If you don't tell Marinette today, I'm telling her.” Dick glared at him from across the table.
Damian glanced at his watch. His wife wasn't present yet, and had sent him a message about picking up pastries from Paris first.
“Tt. That would mean revealing our identities, Richard.” He crossed his arms.
“Just because you have the mask on it doesn't mean you can do that to her!” Dick argued. “Does Ladybug even know you're married?! ”
“What did he do to Pixie-pop?” asked Jason.
“He---he—” Dick was once again trembling in anger and disbelief.
“We saw him kissing Ladybug.” It was Bruce who replied. “Damian, I never expected this from you. You will have to talk and apologize to Marinette.”
“You did what?!” Jason stood up so abruptly that the utensils clattered.
“What the fuck?” Tim exclaimed.
Stephanie gasped. “What the hell Damian?”
“Holy shit,” Duke whispered.
Damian could only stare at the entryway of the dining hall, hoping that Marinette would arrive soon. If he was left with his family any longer, they'd be beating him up and disowning him.
“I have . . . a reason,” he said through gritted teeth. He couldn't exactly tell them right off the bat, since Marinette wasn't there yet.
“Open . . . open relationship?” Cass frowned.
Suddenly, a bright light appeared at the ceiling—a portal— and from it, a figure dropped down, much to everyone's shock. Ladybug, unified with the Horse miraculous, grinned at them with an armful of boxes filled with croissants and macarons.
“Ladybug?” Bruce gaped.
“Your daughter-in-law actually.” She lowered the sunglasses, showing her narrowed eyes. “And your worst fucking nightmare.”
“W---What?”
Damian could barely control his laughter, seeing his father frozen.
She detransformed completely and scowled at Bruce. “This is technically your fault, furry old man! If you didn't keep agreeing to send me on those magical missions, I wouldn't be so tired and caused a misunderstanding in the first place.”
Damian didn't have time to shield himself from the eruption of noise on the table. With his wife's theatrical reveal, everyone was in different states of shock. Tim stood up quietly to face a wall with a blank stare, entertaining another existential crisis. Duke choked on the water he was drinking. Jason was crouched on the floor miserably with his hands over his face, perhaps because of the times he complained to Marinette about Ladybug's uptight methods. Dick's jaw was completely unhinged, and he was slapping himself every minute or so. Stephanie passed a hundred dollar bill to Cass.
And Bruce. Poor Bruce was paler than their porcelain plates, speechless and unmoving.
Damian exchanged a wide smile with his wife. He loved her so much.
#maribat fic#maribat fanfic#dc x mlb#mlb x dc#maribat#daminette#maribat marinette dupain cheng#ggomoz#maribat damian wayne
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Last, Last Time
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (she/her pronouns)
WC: ~7.3k
TW: Angst, guns, violence, mentions of domestic violence, blood, swearing, depression, kidnapping, manipulation, self-deprecating thoughts, heartbreak, arguing, the grieving process, drinking, screaming, crying, sobbing, throwing up, being under pressure, and anything else that comes with a criminal minds episode.
a/n: based on S15 E6 - first date. I love u aubrey plaza <3. Also inspired by the song Last, Last Time by Boys Go To Jupitar. writing this was a little bit of a catharsis since it's one of the first things I've been able to write. I'm sorry I've been so m.i.a., i just moved to a new country and that has been a crazy experience. But to cope with that, enjoy some gut-wrenching angst!
Alternate Ending! Spencer Masterlist
“Spencer I won’t—I can’t keep doing this. I’m sick of arguing in circles.”
“Y/n…”
“I-I feel like you take me for fucking granted Spencer. All I do is work and then come home and wait for you to actually be able to, I don’t know, sleep in the same bed as me for more than four hours.”
The look in his eyes almost took you out but your heart had already been broken long, long before this argument. If anything, you were starting to feel this sense of freedom as you broke his heart.
“Please. Y/n. Just–I don’t—Just give me a few days to convince Hotch to let me have some time off and we can work on this please.”
“Wait for the potential of us?”
Spencer’s jaw loosened. You couldn’t read beyond the initial layer of pain and confusion, which made your chest ache since not too long ago you could have been able to find everything you needed in his expression.
“God Spencer this can’t be fucking news to you. We’ve been drifting apart for months now.”
“I know, I know. You have been so patient with me and I’ve just been….there was that whole thing with Cat and then….I-I was trying so hard y/n…”
“No, first there was that whole thing with Maeve.”
“That’s not fair—”
“Oh that’s not fair? Really? You’re going to tell me the entire Maeve thing isn’t fair to you?”
“I’m sorry.”
You sighed and closed your eyes. “I’m not saying you weren’t trying but come one Spencer. There’s no need to deny this shit anymore. I hate it when you lie to me about these kinds of things.”
Spencer’s hand came up to his face and it dragged down, aging him significantly with the fatigue written all over his face.
“So you’re just going to pack up everything, break my heart, and leave? Were you even going to say goodbye, or was I going to come home to an empty home. A note or....”
“I-I don’t know Spencer. I just don’t…”
The tears were starting to creep in, and you had to place the box down before you lost it.
“This isn’t easy for me either…” Your chest heaved.
The both of you stood in silence, tension simmering surrounding the both of you like heat on a summer’s eve. Neither of you could really look at one another, but it felt wrong to look at anything else. Something was missing but you couldn’t say it outloud. You knew you would always love Spencer Reid but this time it was not enough.
“I’m tired of arguing Spencer.”
Your eyes met his. You felt Spencer’s arms around you before you could even feel the tears hit your cheeks. Your arms immediately went to his neck, so familiar. No longer home.
Spencer’s voice muttered into your ear. “Don’t cry Jolie. It’ll be okay..”
About three years ago, Spencer had decided that he didn’t like that you had nicknames for him, and he had none for you. He spent weeks workshopping different ones : Sugar, Honey, Pumpkin, Sweetheart, Darlin, Pookie, Lover, Sunny (like sunshine), Sunshine—it was a wild few weeks trying to figure out who he was talking to. Then one day, offhandedly, he was trying to tell you about this french film he had been watching, and trying to get Emily to watch with him.
He called you ‘tres jolie’, and blushing you had asked him what it meant. He told you it meant pretty.
And it stuck.
Now? It stung.
All you could do was squeeze tightly onto him, not ready to let go.
“You’re so pretty when you’re lying through your teeth.” You whispered after a few moments, pulling away out of his arms.
“I.” You swallow and step back, out of his reach. “Maybe I’ll...”
Spencer just looked up at the ceiling, trying to hold in the tears that were streaming down his face.
You grabbed the last box on the counter and your keys, and walked out, for the last time.
You awoke in your bed, eyes adjusting to the complete darkness the blackout curtains provided you.
Another fucking night thinking about your decision those four years ago, and how your life may have gotten better because of it.
Moving to get up from the bed, you decided to leave the curtains closed for now, feeling as if you could melt from the sun touching you.
You turned on the bathroom light and started your morning routine. Wash face. Take meds. Brush teeth. Fix hair—
Somewhere in that process, you got lost, and just stared at yourself in the mirror. You weren’t sure for how long. All you could do was replay the last four years.
Did you make the right choice? You were happy, you had your dream job.
Maybe it was true what they say, you can only have a career or love, but not both—
The only thing taking you out of this spiral was the ringer on your phone going off.
This caused some hesitation because your phone’s ringer was always off––the loud noise startling you. There were only a few people who had that emergency bypass, and none of them had called you in four years.
You peaked out of the bathroom and saw the name light up on your phone.
Emily Prentiss
______________________________________________________________
The door to the round room opened up and in walked Spencer Reid. “Catch me up.”
Prentiss clicked the remote, and the TV lit up with a picture of a woman smirking facing the camera while holding a gun up to another one next to her. “Early this morning, Garcia got an email from an anonymous server.”
The second woman was tied up, mouth slightly open, and eyes filled with tears, while a man on the other side just had his eyes closed, tired. .
Spencer just stared at the photo.
Rossi nodded at the picture. “She's not obscuring her face, telling us she's got nothing to hide.”
He never pulled focus away from the screen, mouth dry at the thought of what today was going to be. “Any ideas on the unsub?”
“No.” Prentiss sighed. “Only the unsub's demand. That we release Catherine Adams in 24 hours. I'm having her transferred here for questioning, but we have no illusions. This is just a game to her. We know that. The question is, do we want to play it or not?”
______________________________________________________________
Receiving a call from the FBI was not entirely new to you, since you had been engaged to one of their agents, but receiving one now? Weird. Off brand. Something was deeply wrong from them to have to give you a call.
You hesitantly pick up the phone. “Hello?”
“Hey Y/n, it’s Emily Prentiss—“
“I know who you are, Emily. It’s been a couple years, not millions.”
Emily hummed a brief laugh, and you could hear other voices behind her, unable to make out anything.
“I know this is hard to ask of you, but would you stay on the phone with me and come in?”
“What?”
“I need you to stay very calm Y/n, but I need you to stay on the line with me, leave your apartment as soon as you can, and get to the BAU.”
“Oh my god I totally forgot. It might take me an hour to get there with all this bullshit traffic, could we push the reservation an hour? Would they be willing to do that?”
Your entire tone changed, having remembered what Spencer had told you all those years ago about if people were listening into your apartment, if they bugged your car—all paranoia that didn’t pay off then, might be paying off now.
You were sure you could hear Emily sigh, and it sounded a little upset at the fact that you knew what to do–you knew how to handle a dangerous situation, which made her question everything in her life.
Quickly you pulled on a pair of jeans and threw a sweatshirt over your pajama top and grabbed your keys off of the counter.
You left your apartment, waved to one of your neighbors, and hopped into your car, still on the line, just trying not to panic. Maybe something went wrong, maybe Spencer wasn’t okay, maybe he had died—you refused to even acknowledge that thought and decided it was something else entirely.
It was a very tense hour of driving, that was only about forty minutes since you knew how to drive above the speed limit.
You realized that it was past midday, and you had taken full advantage of the weekend. So at least you had a decent amount of sleep under your belt for what felt like the beginning of an extraneous night.
As you pulled into the parking garage, Emily Prentiss and someone you had never met before were standing there waiting for you. You placed your car in park, hopped out and walked up to them–only hanging up as soon as you were out of the car.
Both of them had such grim looks on their faces, but at least they were trying to pretend like the situation wasn’t as bad as it appeared to your face.
Emily engulfed you in a hug. “Missed you Y/n. It’s been too long.”
“Well Em, next time I end an engagement with someone I’ll consider your feelings first.” You squeezed him back, dryly laughing at your own joke. At least it caused Emily to snort.
“Y/n this is SSA Luke Alvez. Luke, this is Y/n Y/l/n.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” He gave a small smile and nodded at you.
“I wish it were under different circumstances.” You nodded back and looked over at Emily.
“Let’s head inside?”
The three of you moved inside.
Sure, you hadn’t been here in a while, but you knew your way around the BAU Bullpen if your life depended on it, which was ironic since that was what this feels like.
As soon as you were safely in their round table room, Luke shut the door, and stood by it, Emily coming and sitting down next to you.
“What do you know about Cat Adams?”
That bitch.
______________________________________________________________
“I would like to go on a date. With you.”
Spencer stared at her, face stoic as ever. “A date?”
“Yes. I want to look pretty. And I want to have fun.” She looked him up and down. “And I won't even get physical, ok? Unless you want me to.”
Spencer sat down across from her. “Come here. Closer.”
Cat leaned in, a small smile on her face, absolutely intoxicated by being so close to him.
“The only date that I'll be there for is the one where they stick a needle in your vein.”
Cat scoffed. “You're just going to let her father and sister die? I don't think so.”
“I never said it was a father and daughter. You're already slipping.” He stood up from the table. “We'll find them. We always do.”
Cat leaned back and crossed her arms. “Not tonight. Tonight I win.”
His resolution had yet to change, “The score between me and you is two to zero. By tomorrow morning, it'll be a clean sweep. Enjoy eternal nothingness. It's a metaphor for your life.”
And with that, the door slammed shut behind him.
______________________________________________________________
Both the profilers watched a series of emotions run rampant across your face, before you settled on a somewhat displeased smile. “A lot.”
They exchanged a look, and you didn’t have the energy to pretend like you didn’t know what it was.
“Don’t start with me you two. I know profiling. I know what you’re doing. Ask me the questions you want to ask. Don’t try and trick me into giving the answers you want.”
Alvez bit his tongue and looked away, trying to hide a small smile that appeared on his lips.
Emily, on the other hand, hid her smile a bit better than him, but part of being previously engaged to a profiler meant you picked up on some of their tricks too.
She nodded and pulled a file from across the table. “I’m assuming you know the basics since she, uh, is obsessed with Spencer.”
“Glad to see he still has that going for him.” You muttered and looked into the file.
Emily shot Luke a look when he let out a huff or air, trying his damndest not to laugh.
“What is the last thing you know about her?”
You recounted the days leading up to the restaurant, and then the few days after, decidedly stopping short of the engagement breaking off a week later.
They shared another look, and you didn’t enjoy whatever it was that had moved across their faces.
“What? What happened?”
“Y/n..”
“No Emily, I drove from DC to here, I deserve to know what happened. without some weird sugarcoating, alright?”
Emily then begins to explain to you the past four years of Reid’s life. Cat pretending she was pregnant with his kid in prison, kidnapping his mother, framing him for murder in Mexico, going to prison—
“Spencer went to prison and none of you thought to call me….”
“We didn’t think you’d–”
“I’m a fucking criminal defense attorney in DC Emily. Of course I’d want to know if he was arrested, especially internationally. I know that law better than all of you. If someone I knew was kidnapped, I’d call you immediately. Faster than the cops.”
Both of them went silent.
“So is he out?”
They nodded slowly, silently.
“How long was he in there.”
Nothing.
“I asked. How. Long.”
Luke spoke up. “Three months.”
“Jesus christ.” You stood up and started to pace around the room, taking the time you needed to calm down.
Why didn’t Spencer call you—well you knew why Spencer wouldn’t call you.
“Okay so he’s out.” You said finally. “Why am I here?”
“Cat’s execution is coming up, and we….we found out that she’s convinced someone to kidnap some….people…close to Reid, and we knew you’d be on that list for him.”
Your eyebrows went up at people but said nothing of it. Just as you went to say something else, JJ knocked on the door, another blonde woman behind her.
They entered and JJ gave you a small, yet genuine smile.
You returned it, but quickly shifted your gaze onto the woman behind.
Your whole body shifted slightly, into a place of defense, locking your emotions down. You knew all the profilers were watching it happen in real time, which is why Emily walked over and stood next to you, a hand appearing on the small of your back as a comfort.
“Would someone like to tell me what is going on here?” The blonde woman spoke up, arms crossed.
At least Spencer’s taste in partners with attitude hadn’t changed.
______________________________________________________________
“Victimology is off.”
“How so?” Prentiss looked up at him as he walked into the room.
“Father and daughter. She’s never done that before.”
Lewis spoke up. “She usually kills men that remind her of her father. Children–even adult children, are off limits. Do we have an ID yet.”
Prentiss, Rossi, Garcia, and JJ all looked over at Reid, and he just pulled a hand down his face. “It’s. It’s Issac and Noelle Y/l/n.”
“Y/l/n…as is Y/n Y/l/n.” Tara looked up surprised at Spencer.
Reid nodded slowly, just staring at the picture on the projector.
While Luke spoke up. “Who is Y/n Y/l/n.”
“An old friend.” Rossi quickly interjected, before any more explanation had to be said. It was clear both Alvez and Simmons, that whoever this was, was an extremely touchy subject for Reid.
Tara, who had only known you for a little while, looked back at the picture.
Rossie spoke up. “What do we know about the partner who’s helping her?”
“It’s got to be someone from her prison.” Simmons spoke up. “She hasn’t had contact with anyone else.”
______________________________________________________________
After all of that, you found yourself back in a place you left four years ago. It looked almost the same as when you had first moved in, but there was less of it.
Almost as if he was having trouble covering places where things used to be.
There were almost no photos on the walls, since you had taken half of them, and were in the rest.
Calling someone you once loved a stranger feels wrong.
Max, as you had learned her name, was just sitting on the couch in your spot . She was looking around as you and Rossi stood by the kitchen counter.
“Cat had a cellmate named Juliette Weaver. We believe the two were working together, as a way for Cat to get something against Spencer, and as payment, Cat would get Juliette’s ex.”
You nodded. “How does this affect me?”
“She took your father and sister.”
Your back straightened and immediately brought out your phone, to call your sister, but Rossi just grabbed your wrist (gently) and shook his head. “If she finds out you know, then it’s all over. She’s doing this on purpose. She knows about you and Reid, but she knows that dragging you into all of this will hurt him more than anything else.”
His voice had gone low and quiet, so that the girl on the couch couldn’t hear.
“So why is she here?” You whispered back.
“Because we don’t want anyone in danger.”
You closed your eyes and nodded. “I need a cup of tea.”
Rossi let go of your wrist, and you walked into the kitchen, mostly eyes closed from the stress of the situation.
The apartment was silent, the others watching as you grabbed a kettle, and started to make tea. It was like second nature to you as you turned the stovetop on, grabbed a mug from the cabinet (careful to not grab one of his favorites), and grabbed some tea from the cabinet.
It didn’t dawn on you that you were drinking your favorite type of tea until the second sip, while the entire apartment was still silent.
The pity from Rossi's look was palpable.
“Don’t even start.”
He shrugged and stayed silent.
Until his walkie went off and he looked at Max. “It’s time. Let’s go.”
Rossi looked back at you and gave you a quick hug, squeezing you tightly. “You’ve got this kid. Remember everything we talked about.”
You nodded and gave them both a strained smile as they left the apartment, leaving you all alone in this place you once called home, alone.
Never once, since you left, did you think you would ever be back here. You didn’t even realize you were drinking from one of your own mugs until it was just you. The irony of it was not lost on you, and you sat down in your spot on the couch.
Well first you sat in Spencer’s seat but it felt too weird, so you shifted back into your spot on the couch.
______________________________________________________________
“Juliette staked out in Reid’s life. Found out he was dating someone, but then must have discovered his ex-fiancée.” Simmons sighed. “He was probably so focused on Max, he didn’t even realize that someone was digging into his history, following them around.”
Prentiss nodded as they walked and talked. “But if Juliette was able to find Max, that meant she was easily able to find Y/n and her family. It means she must have access to all of her publicly available information. “
“Well at least we found their hidden agenda.”
“No. We found Cat’s hidden agenda. Juliette doesn’t care about Reid. There’s something we’re missing here. Do a deep dive with Garcia.”
Simmons nodded at Prentis. “On it.”
“I’ll go to Reid's apartment and monitor onsite. Is there a trap and trace on his landline?”
“Garcia’s almost set up.” Simmons walked away from Prentiss, and down towards Penelope’s office.
“Well this went from bad to worse.” Tara walked up to Emily.
Emily sighed in agreement.
Lewis spoke up. “Female narcissists destroy their competition.Y/n really shouldn’t be in there.”
Emily just nodded and the two of them headed out of the bullpen. “Walk with me.”
Tara kept stride with her as they pushed through the doors. Rossi was just getting off the phone with someone and turned to look at the two women approaching him and JJ.
JJ spoke up when Rossi was finished. “So, the hospital just released the dad– Issac Y/l/n. He's on his way here now.
Rossi scoffed. “Question is, why let him go at all?”
“Matt's on that.” Emily gestures in the direction of Garcia’s office. “Juliette Weaver's real agenda should tell us where she's taking Y/n’s younger sister.”
Lewis spoke next. “I still think the play here is to get Cat and Juliette to contact each other, but I have no idea how.”
Prentiss crossed her arms. “I have a plan, but first we have to talk about Y/n.”
______________________________________________________________
Just then, you heard the click of the door, and stood up, watching as the door swung open.
And there he was.
This was the first time you had seen Spencer in four years.
And here he was, kissing Catherine Adams.
The woman you could give partial credit to for ending your relationship.
After a moment Spencer looked up, and took several steps away from Cat. His eyes were wide and locked on yours.
It took a lot of self-restraint to not punch the lights out of Cat, and to stand still arms crossed.
“Y/n?” Spencer’s voice broke a little bit.
You never would say that Spencer was unattractive. In fact, it would be a lie if you ever said it. But something about the past four years aged him like a fine wine.
His hair was a bit longer, he had some scruff—his baby face had melted away and standing in front of you was a man who thought you knew everything about, but was now a stranger.
You didn’t answer him, watching as he took you in, standing in his apartment, for the first time since…
“What are you doing here?”
You looked over at Cat, who had the most devious smirk on her face.
Remember what Prentiss had said to you.
“You know why I’m here.”
Cat nodded and the two of them moved into the apartment, the door closing behind them.
Spencer just stood ten feet away from you, eyes never leaving you, and you watched him right back.
Cat, on the other hand, was walking around, examining the apartment. You could see her take notice of the tea you had made yourself on the counter. You could see the hatred from the corner of your eyes. The two of you were starting to piss her off.
She spoke up, after a few moments of silence. “Did it make you mad that I was kissing your Fiancé?”
You shook your head. “No.”
Your focus had fully turned to Cat, but you swore you swore you could hear Spencer take a sharp inhale as you spoke your next words.
“Well, he's not my fiancé and I kind of have some other things on my mind.”
Cat didn’t scare you, but there was just something so off-putting about her. “Like what?”
“Are you gonna hurt Noelle?”
Cat shrugged. “Not if I don't have to, no. Honestly, if she follows instructions, she might even learn from this whole experience.”
You scoffed. “What does that mean?”
Cat just started fiddling with the chess set on the dresser.
“Spencer, what does she mean?” You turned to look back at him, his name feeling so good on your tongue.
Spencer, who really hadn’t stopped looking at you and sighed. “I think…She means that Noelle isn’t learning from her, but from Juliette.”
You sat down in your spot on the couch, arms crossed. You were on the full defense.
Spencer noticed where you sat and had to look down to conceal any notions of a smile on his face.
Cat watched him before turning and looking at you, some more disdain on her face than before.
“Normally, Spencie and I, we spend our time together playing games, but tonight, I've brought you all here to make a point. You are doing so much better.”
Spencer spoke up. “With you?”
“I'm not talking to you.” Cat snapped at him before she turned to you. “I'm talking to you. Because, girlfriend, you need to know the truth about your fiancé.”
“He's not my finacé.” You were unsure about how many more times you could say that outloud.
“No kidding. When’s the last time you spoke? Right…” Cat walked over to the center of the room, right in front of the couch. “Here?”
Your head whipped around to Spencer. “You told her about that?”
Spencer was pleading with his eyes. “I had to say a lot of things tonight.”
Cat’s voice caused your head to snap back to her. “Yes, he has. He said that you never compared to me, that, um... That no matter what, he will never get me out of his mind, unlike you. Unlike that girlfriend.”
You tried not to wince at the mention of that girl Maxine out in one of the trucks.
Spencer sat down next to you. “Everything I said—I was lying to save your family.”
Cat scoffed. “Did our kiss look like a lie?”
“No.” you just looked down at your hands.
“Thank you. See, now we're getting to the heart of the matter.” Cat started mocking Spencer. “You see, everyone thinks that Dr. Spencer Reid is... Is just this nice, bookish, uh, genius who, uh, always saves the day and has all the answers. And has zero mommy issues, right? But, um... I know the real him.”
“Oh, yeah? Who's the real me, Cat?”
“The real Spencer Reid throws women against walls. And hisses that he's going to kill them.”
Spencer stood up, squaring off against her. “That was a very different situation.”
“No, it wasn't.” Cat was holding the smirk back this time, making your gut wretch.
“Spencer…What is she talking about?” You looked from the psychopath in front of you, to the man you realized you might have never really known beside you.
“You tell her. She's not gonna believe it coming from me.” She huffed.
Reid turned and looked at you. “Two years ago, Cat had her partner kidnap my mother. Just like tonight. She got under my skin and…”
Your chest hurts. “And you threw her against a wall?”
Cat’s smirk was breaking through whatever resolve she had. “Don't skimp on the details, Spencie. She deserves to know everything.”
Every single time she said Spencie you swore a shock went up your spine.
Spencer looked down at his hands, and then over at you. His voice had gotten quieter. “She was pregnant at the time and I knew that when I hurt her.”
“And?” She stood there expectantly, waiting for Spencer to finish. When he didn’t, her face suddenly became solemn. “The next day... I miscarried. The end.”
Spencer looked at her. “That's not true.”
“It is most certainly true. Check my medical records.”
“That doesn't mean I-I would…”
Cat held up her hand to him. “Stop. Look.”
Spencer looked over at you, just sitting on the couch, trying to process everything that was going through your head.
After thinking about everything you had gone through, especially with Spencer. “I thought you were better than that Spence.”
It was the first time you had used a nickname for him in years. And he was hearing it for the first time while you were stuck in a standoff between himself and Cat Adams, your sister being god knows where.
Spencer’s voice cracked. “I'm sorry.”
Cat squatted down in front of you, a sick smile on her lips. She was enjoying this. She truly enjoyed watching his life crumble to bits. “Notice how your Spencie is apologizing to you and not me.”
You clenched your hands. “He’s not mine…”
Spencer just looked over at you.
Cat nodded. “That's good. Because men are all the same. Aren't they, Jolie?”
Spencer’s eyes lit up with an emotion you rarely saw from him when you were together. “Don't call her that.”
And you couldn’t blame him. The word ran you through like a spear and you were sure if you looked behind you, the blade would be through the couch. You tried so hard to not let either of the two people near you see how much it messed with you. Luckily for you, Cat was too busy pushing Spencer’s buttons to see the way her words won against you.
Cat hissed at him. “What, are you gonna throw me against a wall and choke me, or do you only do that to pregnant women?”
You finally spoke up. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because I want you to see it.” She gestured to Spencer. “I want you to see that he is...no better than he was before, or any man after. They’re all the same.”
“Stop.”
Cat squatted down in front of you. “I can see it on your face. What's his name?”
You stared back at her. “It's none of your business.”
That damned smirk of hers returned. “It is exactly my business. In fact, it's my specialty. I mean, I could have Juliette and baby sister go over there if you want. They could take care of him.”
Reid looked over at you. “Say yes. Give her what she wants.”
“Hmm. See, he wants you to get me to make a little phone call so they can trace it.” She moved away from you both and sat down in the lounging chair across from you. “They're so good, the FBI.”
You jumped up and started pacing, a spitting image of four years ago. “What is wrong with the two of you? What is this sick, twisted thing that you have? Listen, I just want to save my sister. Will you please just tell me what I have to do to do that?”
“Tell me his name. Tell me the story. That's it. And then if they can let Juliette exit stage right, then I promise you I will let her go.”
You looked between Cat and Spencer before walking over to the kitchen, and hanging up the phone. After staring down at the decision you had just made, you walked back over and took your phone out. “Here. Use this. Use my phone. They can't trace it.”
She just watched you. “You'd be surprised.”
“I don't even need a call. Just... just a photo.” You held the phone out to her. “Something to prove to me that she's still alive. Please”.
Cat just looked up at your face. “Story first.”
“Y/n. Please.” Spencer turned to you, hoping you’d look back at him. “I have been here with her before. She called the number and told the partner to kill my mom.”
“It is so tricky, isn't it? I mean, who are you gonna trust? The lying, cheating, violent psychopath... Or me?”
You looked down at the ground, refusing to look over at Spencer. “His…His name was Mike Davis. We dated for two years. I met him a month after we…we split.”
Cat’s attention on you felt as if there were a million bees stinging your body all at different intervals, pain coursing through your body. “Good. When did it end?”
“Last year.”
“Was he good in bed?”
Spencer stood up. “Shut up.”
Cat was enjoying this. She was enjoying watching you make Spencer uncomfortable. She was enjoying hurting him in every masochistic way she could. “What? You have to know where you stand.”
“He was good…” You looked back at Cat. “Good at, um, separating me from my friends and my family. Enough that the first time he punched me in the face, I didn't have anywhere to go. And my first response wasn't "get out." It wasn't "go to hell." It was "I'm sorry, Mike." That's when he knew he had me.”
There was a glint in Spencer’s eyes, and you could swear they were tears, but you couldn’t tell from rage or sorrow.
Cat continued to probe. “How many hospital visits were there?”
You showed her a small scar on the inside of your elbow. “None. No, he... He knew how to hurt me just enough to hide it all, I guess.”
“But you found the strength to leave. What did you do?”
“ I planned and I... I waited.”
Cat’s eyes lit up. “Waited for what? “
“I live here in D.C.” You looked between Spencer and Cat. “but I'm also a resident in Virginia. It takes 60 days for the permit to clear.”
Spencer’s eyes widened. “Y/n, stop talking. Stop talking right now.”
Cat shushed him. “No, don't stop. Here. Give me the phone. Look, I'm gonna enter the text. Stick the landing and I'll hit "send."
You handed her the phone and she quickly typed out a message, her thumb hovering over send.
Fiddling with your ring finger, you started to speak again. Slowly. Concisely. “When I was ready, I picked a fight. Loud enough for the neighbors to hear. And he came at me with his fist just cocked back, so I pulled my Glock 19 out of my purse. I shot him.”
Spencer tried to interject. “It was self-defense. He was attacking you—”
“That's what I told 911 as he was struggling to breathe on his kitchen floor. That's why the police never charged me. I’m a lawyer, I know how to plead.” You closed your eyes. “But I... after I hung up, I... I shot him two more times.”
Cat was glowing, spinning around to face Spencer. “Wow, you really have a type, don't you? Quite a dilemma, too. She just admitted to murder.”
Spencer was in disbelief. “She'll beat it.” .
“Probably. But whatever feelings she might have still had for you, and whatever Maxine might have seen in you—-it’s all gone.”
The phone in your hand buzzed.
“Oh, wow. Look at that. Your sister. Alive and well. You're welcome.”
Your face hardened up, and you stood up straighter. Walking away from the two of them, you opened the door. “I got it.”
She took the phone from your hand and you turned back to the two of them. There was no emotion behind your eyes as you looked back at Spencer.
Cat smirked and looked up at Spencer. “I win.”
______________________________________________________________
The prison transport was quiet, with the two guards sitting across from Spencer and Cat. It had been silent for about twenty minutes, but then, Cat spoke up.
“Do you know why I did this? Why I really did this?”
Spencer looked down at his hands. “You wanted to prove I'm a monster just like you.”
“No... Silly. I just wanted to see you again. I just wanted to make sure that you would never forget about me.” She sighed. “'Cause when they do put that needle in my arm, I just want there to be even the slightest chance that... Maybe you're still thinking about me…”
Spencer stiffened as she placed her head on his shoulder. “You didn't have to terrorize 3 innocent people. You could've just written a letter.”
“Would you have written me back?”
When Spencer didn’t respond, Cat knew her answer.
“Bye, Spencie. I really enjoyed our date.” She smiled at him desperately, getting dragged out of the vehicle by the guards to the prison.
______________________________________________________________
The elevator door opened and Spencer walked out of it, his whole body reeked of defeat, and he barely looked at Emily as she spoke. “We need to debrief.”
Spencer just walked right past her, and into the bullpen. His expression changed when he saw you on one side talking to Tara, and Max on the other, looking up at him right as he walked in.
“Spencer, are you okay?”
Her voice caught your ear, and immediately you looked up to see her walk over and embrace him in a hug.
He smiled at her, and grateful returned the hug before muttering that he would be back, and explain everything.
You were never going to get back together with Spencer, but watching it in real time was like unlacing an old wound.
Spencer walked over to you, and you stood up as he approached.
“Uh, Tara, would you mind giving us…”
She nodded at him and walked away.
Both of you went to speak, trying to say something to the other.
“I should explain all of this.”
Spencer shook his head. “You don’t have to explain any of that Y/n—it doesn’t.”
You cut him off. “It was fake—most of it. I didn’t kill anyone, Spence. I was just lying to her to get her to send the text from my phone. It was all…It was made up.”
He just nodded, staring at you really.
You gave him a soft smile, and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. Both of you could feel the pulse between it, making you remove your hand and take a small step back.
“Thank you for saving my sister and father.”
Spencer watched your resolve fully formed, masking whatever you were feeling. He hated watching it happen to him, watching as you placed whatever feelings you had back into somewhere he couldn’t find.
Garcia walked over and placed a hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “I just need you both to know, Cat Adams had a miscarriage, but it was months after whatever encounter you had. It’s not your fault. We looked at her records.” She was speaking low for you both, yet both of you let out a quiet sigh of relief.
“They filled me in on everything that happened between both of you in the past couple years, and they asked me if I would be willing to…help them beat her.”
Spencer looked up at you, and unlike yourself, every single emotion Spencer was feeling was racing across his face.
He didn’t like that you knew about everything that had gone down. He was so happy you were okay. He was a little impressed by the way you beat Cat at her own game. He was upset that you put yourself in danger.
“They gave me an ear piece and everything.”
Spencer shook his head. “You’re not trained—that’s extremely dangerous of you.”
You sighed and nodded. “Unfortunately Spencer, this is…this was the life I was used to when we were together. I knew the stakes. I mean the briefings I had with Hotch after you relapsed…”
Spencer just clammed up and stood a bit straighter. “ I never knew..”
“It was like that on purpose. I didn’t want you to think that you were a burden or too much or—I was doing it for the potential of…” You cut yourself of, flinching at the parallels between this and your previous final conversation.
You looked over at Garcia. “I need my bag Pen.” You whispered, taking a step away from Spencer. “I shouldn’t…I finished my job. My family is safe…”
She had a rueful look on her face, but she nodded and took your arm, walking you back over to the desk where your stuff was.
He looked up at Emily and walked over to her. “I’m…uh. I’m gonna go walk her out and then I’ll be right back.”
Emily gave him the saddest smile, and just nodded. She knew that nothing she could say could make it any better.
You grabbed your coat, and your bag, and the two of you walked to the elevator in silence, riding it all the way down to the parking garage, where your car was still there from this afternoon, all of those hours ago.
You looked over at Spencer, tears in your eyes, having not said anything to him.
As soon as he met your eyes, you dropped your bag, and Spencer wrapped his arms around you tightly, just holding you and resting his head on yours; trying to give you the comfort that he was rarely able to give you.
Sobbing into his arms, you just tightly wrapped your arms around his torso and just held onto him tightly. Trying to decompress, trying to truly understand everything that had happened in the past twelve hours.
It was Spencer who spoke first.
“I’m so so sorry Y/n.” He whispered. “I never meant any of this to happen to you, and for you to get dragged back here and—”
You shook your head slightly, but didn’t move from where you were. Neither of you did.
“It’s what she wanted, Spence, and unfortunately for us, this was always bound to happen.” You whispered.
The hug felt so good, but something about it was just so different.
It’s not the way it used to be.
“I need to go Spencer.”
He nodded, and this time you moved away from him. His hand came up and wiped away one of the remaining tears on your cheek.
You closed your eyes, and took a deep breath.
“Oh fuck, why is this so fucking hard four years later.” You laughed, trying to regain any sort of composure.
“Y/n…”
You took another step away from him and shook your head.
“We can’t—I’m not.” You tried so hard to find the right words without bursting into tears again. “Spencer. I cannot put myself back to where I was four years ago. I can’t do it. And yes things have changed, but maybe that is for the better. Maybe you were always meant to be my maybe, and not my always.”
You took another breath, but kept going. “You are amazing, and funny, and so smart Spence. But this…we ran our course. It didn’t work then, and I don’t know if I have it in me to try again just for it to fail.”
“Y/n please.”
“I will always love you but this…It’s time to…It’s time to stop. I have to go back to my life, and you go back upstairs to yours, with Prentiss and Rossi and Penelope and…Max.”
Both of you winced as you said her name, but you took a step forward, moving to kiss him on the cheek.
Spencer gently grabbed you face, giving you enough time to back out.
You didn’t.
His lips locked with yours, his thumb rubbing against your cheek as the two of you shared one more moment, just for the two of you.
But it had to end.
You couldn’t go back to the anxiety, the arguing, the petty disagreements. It wasn’t good for you. It was good for either of you.
Stepping away again, you gently kissed his cheek, and started to slowly walk to your car.
Right as you got to your car, you turned around and made eye contact with him one last time before the elevator doors closed, both of you with the most gut wrenching smile slightly plastered across your faces.
You mouthed goodbye, unable to speak it out loud, and he nodded, tears filling his eyes as he whispered it back to you.
The doors shut.
You were all alone in this hollow parking garage.
Your heart was aching, burning.
But there was a sigh of relief, that came with the doors closing, and saying goodbye for the last, last time.
#x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid angst#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x reader fluff#spencer reid x reader angst#dr spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x self insert#criminal minds fanfiction#Spencer reid x y/n angst#Dr Spencer reid x dr!reader#spencer reid masterlist#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fanfic#so much angst
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santa's little helper 𐂐◯𓇋 (klh)
desc: mall santa!leehan x mall elf!reader
warnings: smut, mdni!, perv!leehan (ofc), p in v, no protection used (no glove, no love 🫵), reader is mean but it's okay bc leehan is into it, degradation, praise, cute petnames, sexual acts in a public space (restroom), oral (reader receiving), sub!leehan, dom!reader, afab!reader, + lmk if there's anything i missed :)
wc: 2,842
you pulled the elf hat down again, annoyed that it kept drifting up on your head. you certainly didn’t feel very festive, the bright green clothing scratchy against your body anytime you moved an inch. in fact, you looked like you had come straight out of a christmas comedy, with your bored expression and your green pointed shoe tapping against the tiled floor.
your university had collaborated with the local mall for the annual santa pop-up, allowing college students to put work toward any necessary volunteer hours. you didn't have many other opportunities since your classes filled up a lot of time, so here you were, dressed in a tacky, too-tight costume waiting for the onslaught of kids to show up.
"perk up. elves aren't supposed to look cranky."
oh yeah, and there was that. or him, rather.
you turned around to fix the boy with a scowl. "the event hasn’t even started yet."
his response was that wide, irritating grin of his. "tsk, tsk… talking back to santa? do you want to be on the naughty list this year?"
kim leehan. of course he got the role of santa, being one of the most proactive students at the university. he was on the dean's list, president of the aquatic club, was apart of at least five other clubs, and was present at most volunteering events. he also happened to be incredibly annoying, always so egotistical. even if he was objectively one of the more attractive boys on campus, his personality irked you to no end.
you rolled your eyes and turned around, ignoring the chuckle he let out.
"lighten up. i'm just trying to look out for you–we’re going to start soon."
right. sure he was.
as if on cue, a gaggle of children ran toward the gated-off area like a swarm of hyperactive puppies. you quickly plastered on a smile and started by greeting the first one, instructing her to sit on santa's lap and tell him what she wanted for christmas. you stood in front of the line so no rogue child could enter, and watched as another elf wrote down the girl's wish. then you allowed the next child to enter.
your shift went by like that, rather monotonously, until the last child had gone through.
"alright, folks! that's the end of today. thank you so much for your work. if you need me to sign a slip saying you were present, just let me know," the person in charge of the event said. "for those of you that don't mind, can you help us clean up the area for tomorrow's volunteers?"
you watched as the only other elf left, leaving you, leehan, and the event coordinator. you frowned but decided it wouldn't hurt to have some extra minutes of volunteer time, bending down and straightening the tinsel and fairy lights along the base of santa's chair.
"wasn't that fun?" leehan's voice came from behind you, startling you a little. "seeing all those happy children... it just made my heart melt."
"i guess. it wasn't fun having to keep the little ones out. they looked at me like i was their number one opp."
leehan let out a laugh. "well, that's okay. at least you look cute in your uniform."
you raised an eyebrow. "um... thanks?"
"it really suits you." leehan added, smiling down at you. "really accentuates your features."
you became more aware of how tight your costume was. they didn't have your size when you got to the event, them stating that they didn't order enough costumes. apparently they let all of their volunteers keep the costume when they were done as a token of appreciation. you now wished that was not the case.
"leehan, aren't you supposed to be helping me straighten things up?" you asked in an attempt to change the subject.
"fine." leehan said to your surprise. he bent down and helped you with straightening up the christmas decorations, then stood back up. "there. done."
"we should let the event coordinator know."
"they left." leehan said, gesturing at the gate. "probably going to do paperwork or something. we better head out."
you grabbed your backpack and followed him out of the gated area leading to the rest of the mall.
"i wonder why they stop the santa visits so early. the mall doesn't close for another three hours." leehan mused.
"the kids probably have an early bedtime." you said absentmindedly, looking around for the nearest bathroom so you could change back into your clothes.
your eyes landed on a large restroom sign and you immediately started walking toward it. you heard footsteps behind you and turned your head, seeing that leehan was following you. right, he probably wanted to change back into his clothes too.
you stopped at the restroom door, realizing that it was unisex, one stall. you turned around to tell leehan this so he could find another restroom, but he just brushed past you, opening the restroom door with a smirk. the door closed behind him, and you noticed that the door still indicated that it was vacant, meaning he didn't yet lock it. you scoffed.
was this a challenge?
you felt the familiar feeling of irritation and you let out a sigh. you had seen the restroom first, and you knew that the next restroom would probably be quite a few feet away. the itchy green fabric rubbed against your skin, as though making the decision for you. you pushed open the restroom door.
"okay, you freak. i found this restroom fair and square." you said with your hands on your hips.
leehan was leaned against the sink counter still in his santa getup as though expecting you. "oh?"
"yeah. so get out."
"or what?" leehan scoffed, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "what will you do if i don't?"
you let out another sigh, feeling disheartened and prepared to give up the damn restroom when your eyes trailed down and noticed the tent straining against leehan's pants.
"oh... my god. you sick freak." you said, scrunching your nose in disgust. "do you seriously have a boner right now?"
leehan pushed off of the counter, taking a few steps closer to you. "maybe. maybe not. why? wanna help me with it?"
"help you with it?" you sneered. "tell me, why do you have one in the first place? is it because of me?"
"yes." leehan said immediately, not an ounce of shame in his voice. his eyes softened even as he stood tall over you. "please... i want you."
"you sound pathetic." you said, although your tone had less bite than it previously did. in truth, his words sent a warmth straight to your cunt. the prospect of fucking him didn't sound entirely awful. in fact, the idea seemed almost enticing, and his pleading eyes didn't help.
you locked the door, sliding it from "vacant" to "occupied."
"you want me?" you chided, taking a step toward leehan, closing the distance.
leehan nodded eagerly. "yes. god, please, yes."
"unbutton your coat." you said while crossing your arms, unimpressed.
leehan brought his hands up to the fleece material, his fingers clumsily unbuttoning the coat one by one, leaving his chest bare. he didn’t even have a shirt on under it? you scoffed, wondering if he had somehow planned this.
leehan started to slide the coat off, but you stopped him. "did i tell you to take it off?"
"n-no..." leehan said with raised eyebrows, stopping his actions. "sorry."
“make it up to me. wanna touch me?” you gently pushed him so he was against the wall.
leehan let out an involuntary moan, making your pussy throb. “yes, please… wanna touch you so bad.”
"mm well, since you asked so nicely..." you leaned forward so that your face was inches away from his. then you grabbed his hands and placed them on your boobs.
leehan began kneading them gently, his thumb running over your nipple through the fabric. you let out a sharp gasp at the contact and felt his dick get harder against your leg.
"you're so fucking hot..." he murmured, leaning forward to kiss you.
you kissed him back as you slowly rubbed your thigh against his dick. he pulled away with a moan, his head falling back. you took the opportunity to pepper kisses along his neck, sucking and leaving marks as you went.
"please..." leehan's voice cracked.
"hmm? please what?" you asked, reaching up to pinch his nipple.
"ah! f-fuck... please t-touch me!"
"i am touching you, leehan." you said matter-of-factly, squeezing his nipple again for emphasis.
leehan bit his lip. "w-want you to touch my dick, p-please!"
"i think i need some convincing first." you leaned back, leehan whimpering at the loss of contact. "make me feel good, then i'll consider it."
"i'll make you feel good... make you feel so, so fucking good."
"then do it." you said with a scoff. "or are you just all talk?"
leehan smashed his lips against yours, pulling you into him. the kiss was messy, with saliva mixing and short breaths of air. he tugged on the hem of your shirt and you took the hint, breaking away from the kiss to tug the shirt up and over your head. your bra followed soon after, the cool air hitting your already perky nipples.
"fuck..." leehan breathed, staring at your chest. "so fucking pretty."
before you had the chance to feel shy, leehan resumed kneading your tits, paying special attention to your nipples. you threw your head back with a moan as leehan swirled his tongue around your nipple, using his other hand to rub against your clothed clit.
"oh fuck, leehan..." you groaned, biting your lip.
"feel good? do i make you feel good?" leehan asked, looking at you intently.
"so good, leehan. so good, just as you promised." you didn't miss the way that leehan's dick twitched at your praise.
you felt your orgasm building fairly quickly just from his hand and fingers alone, your body betraying you. "l-leehan, i'm gonna cum."
"wait."
you froze, eyes wide as you looked at leehan. oh god, was he uncomfortable? did he realize how crazy this--
"i want to taste you." leehan said, a dopey smile on his face. "please, y/n. please let me eat you out."
and how could you deny that?
you quickly slid out of your green leggings, tossing the damned elf hat off while you were at it. leehan sunk down to the floor, face-to-face with your pelvis. before you could take off your panties, leehan reached forward and pushed your panties to the side before grabbing your waist and pulling you toward him. you gasped as he dove face-first into your cunt. as he nibbled on your clit, you swore you could see stars. leehan's tongue lapped inside you as though his life depended on it.
"nngh... l-leehan, fuck! s-slow down, i'm not gonna last!"
"don't want you to." leehan managed to get out between sucking on your folds and panting. "want you to cum."
his words pushed you over the edge, your vision going blurry as you came in his mouth, just as he wanted. as your vision came back, you panted and leehan peeled himself from you, a sheen of your cum on his chin. he licked his lips and wiped his chin with his sleeve, grinning up at you. "that was so hot. you taste so good, baby."
you ignored the way the pet name made your heart flutter. "now then... i believe it's your turn."
leehan's eyes grew wide as though he had forgotten about himself. he hastily stood up and shucked off his pants along with his boxers, his dick springing up proudly.
you let out a chuckle. "looks like someone's excited to see me..."
leehan nodded, sucking in a breath, "i need you, y/n."
"need me, huh? tell me, do you do this often?" you spit in your hand before reaching forward, grabbing his dick and sliding your hand down it.
he let out a choked moan. "n-no, just you..."
"oh? just me? so what, you've been thinking about me?"
"mmh... yes, y-yes..."
"and what have you been thinking about?" you ran your thumb over his slit, causing him to throw his head back in pleasure. "nasty things, i'm sure."
leehan didn't respond, instead letting out more lewd moans. but his flushed face told you everything you needed to know.
"i'm right, aren't i? you're such a fucking pervert." you said, speeding up your pace.
"n-n-no!" leehan managed to choke out.
"don't you lie to me. i could stop, you know." you said, doing just that. leehan's cock stood in your hand, the tip weeping and red.
"no! p-please!" leehan begged, almost manically. "please don't stop, please please--"
"then don't lie. you've been thinking nasty thoughts about me, haven't you?"
leehan's lip quivered. "y-yes... i have..." he looked like a hurt puppy, shame spread across his cheeks in a pink dust.
you felt a pang in your heart at the poor, pathetic boy in front of you. "tell me what you've been thinking about."
"w-what?" leehan bit his lip nervously.
"tell me or you won't get to cum." you said firmly.
leehan let out a soft sigh. "i just... thought about you fucking me. you... finding out about my feelings toward you and..." he trailed off, his blush deepening. his feelings toward you? you felt your lips tug into a smile, finding the sentiment endearing. but you’d have to revisit this later.
you resumed jerking him off at the same rapid pace you were previously, causing him to moan loudly. "so you wanted this to happen? i wonder how many nights you spent jerking off to the thought of me fucking you. how pathetic..."
"w-wait... w-wanna be inside y-you... please! please..." leehan whined out between moans.
you stopped your ministrations on his cock, feeling the growing wetness in your cunt. "oh, you want to be inside me, huh?”
leehan nodded insistently, eyes wide and pleading. “please, y/n, please…”
“aww…” you cooed, raking your free, unsoiled hand through his hair. “let’s switch spots.”
the two of you shifted so that you were against the wall and you finally pulled off his coat, admiring his arms. “alright, pretty… do you think you could help me keep one of my legs up?”
leehan visibly melted a bit at the nickname. “yes, i think so.” he lifted your right leg up with one hand, using the other to steady himself against the wall.
you placed your hands on his shoulders, placing a kiss against his jawline. "alright, whenever you’re ready."
leehan nodded and licked his lips, moving your underwear to the side once again before slowly pushing his girth into you.
"oh, f-fuck!" you moaned, wrapping your arms around leehan's neck.
once leehan's dick was buried inside you, he promptly pulled out and slammed back in, eliciting moans from both of you.
"you're doing so good." you cooed in his ear, sucking more marks into his skin.
his pace quickened, the sound of flesh against flesh filling the room. his movements were so needy, so impatient. if you weren’t equally as needy, you would have teased him about it.
"nngh... f-fuck, y/n... so wet..." leehan's voice came out breathy. "i think i'm g-gonna cum..."
"already? we just started." you said, trying to keep your voice steady. "you really can't last any longer? too excited to get your dick wet?"
"c-can't... help it!" leehan's eyes squeezed shut, his thrusting getting inconsistent and sloppy.
"that's okay... you're just my cumslut, aren't you?" you said, raking your nails against his back.
"fuck... y-yes, i'm your-- cum-- i'm cumming!" leehan choked out before you felt a warmth gushing inside of you, filling you up. you followed soon after, his orgasm fueling your own.
leehan gently pulled you off of him and helped you lean back against the wall, your legs a bit wobbly. "fuck, y/n... that was so..." he trailed off, grinning at you from ear to ear.
you felt your face grow warm, becoming aware of your nakedness. "um... yeah."
"so... i don't want things to be awkward between us." leehan said softly. "so um... would you maybe like to go out with me? i was kinda hoping for something more beyond the physical."
"oh, so there some innocent thoughts scattered among the dirty ones?"
leehan's blush returned. "uh... yeah. i would say there were quite a few. innocent ones, i mean!"
you laughed. "yeah, sure. i'll go on a date with you."
"really?" leehan beamed at you, his eyes nearly disappearing with how big his smile was.
"yeah... but first let's put on some clothes, hmm? and by clothes, i mean our regular clothes."
"what's wrong with the santa costume? it seemed to get you going." leehan said, wiggling his eyebrows.
you wrinkled your nose. "um, no. incorrect."
"liar. i bet you loved being santa's little helper."
"gross." you groaned. "you're such a freak."
leehan grinned. "so i've been told."
a/n: i was at the mall w @blueberrybeomgyu & @escapistgarden when berry was like omg mall santa fic as a joke and then ofc i couldn't stop thinking abt it 😭 im SICK but it's okay bc i made this :p i cant believe how long this turned out... im used to writing drabbles but slay ig. anyway, if ur reading this, tysm for ur support! <3 hope u enjoyed :) also, merry christmas! (if you celebrate <3)
#bnd smut#boynextdoor smut#kim leehan#kim leehan smut#kim donghyun#kim donghyun smut#bnd hard hours#boynextdoor hard hours#boynextdoor hard thoughts#kim leehan hard thoughts#kim donghyun hard thoughts#kim leehan hard hours#kim donghyun hard hours#boynextdoor x reader#boynextdoor imagines#kim leehan imagines#kim donghyun imagines
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Rule Breaker - Pt 3
max Verstappen x single mom!reader
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warnings: cursing, jos is an even bigger asshole, barely proofread, logan's there, glazed-over mentioning of childhood trauma Summary: Max has it all...right? Besides, he's too busy collecting trophies and completing side quests for anything else. Until... You moved across a whole ass ocean to start over, uprooting you and your son's lives to become social media admin for cars that drive in circles. word count: 7937 (i got so carried away holy shit) auth.note: listen, eagle boy swayed me with his pretty eyes and soft voice... also this was a great excuse for me to rewatch Mulan for the millionth time. spotify: i made a playlist
"Team meeting in ten," GP commented.
Max nodded, eyes following y/n through the window as she paced in the small courtyard, talking on her phone. He hadn't seen or spoken to her since they'd finished the Q and A the day before. Surprisingly, he'd actually enjoyed it. He told himself it was because she'd made sure to gather thought provoking questions, not because some of his answers had made her laugh and her laugh made him feel relaxed. GP turned to look out the window and Max quickly looked down at his plate, even though he'd just taken the last bite of his breakfast. When the engineer turned back, Max could feel his amused expression.
"Looks like it might rain," GP said casually.
Nodding again, Max washed down the last of his food with his coffee. "More chances for fuck ups."
"It's not a crime."
He finally looked up. "What?"
GP nodded towards the window.
"If rain was a crime, would they put god in prison?" Max asked, keeping his face blank when his friend snorted and rolled his eyes.
"You're not a robot, Max."
From the corner of his eye he could see her approaching Christian, who was coming from the garage. "I never said I was."
"Then stop acting like one. You're still young, I guess you're attractive, and you're at the top of your career."
"Thank you for that endorsement," Max said drily. Horner had stepped aside with y/n, whose hands were moving as she spoke to him. "I'll be sure and put it in my Tinder profile."
GP's eyebrows lifted. "You have one?"
"Fuck no." He pushed his chair back. "I don't have time."
"Max," his friend sighed.
"I'll see you at the meeting." He took care of his dishes, making sure to thank the staff working the dining area before leaving the motorhome, telling himself it was so he could get some fresh air and clear his head for the meeting. His legs carried him around the corner to where y/n and Christian were still talking, and he boldly approached.
"…speak to him." Christian shot a look at Max.
"If he was joking I wouldn't think twice about it.," y/n said, frowning. "But I don't see how it could have been. He was extremely rude, implied I wasn't worth hiring based on my looks, and…"
Max kept his mouth shut, knowing she needed to do the speaking. Giving her a faint nod when she looked at him, he felt a glimmer of pride when she straightened her shoulders.
"I didn't spend four years in college – sorry, university – and work three jobs at once to be demeaned. I know I have the skills and drive to do my job, but if this team continues to foster that sort of toxic environment you'll have to look for a new social media admin," she said firmly.
He tried to but couldn't keep the smile from forming.
Christian looked slightly impressed, giving her a reassuring nod. "I understand. He's not employed by us, he's only here by our good graces."
"I know he's the father of the your top driver, and I spoke with him before coming to you," she said, as though Max wasn't standing right there.
Christian pressed his lips together and Max knew he was trying to hide his smile. "Of course. We'll deal with it, I promise."
"Thank you." She relaxed, sighing softly. "I'm not trying to cause trouble, Mr. Horner."
"It's Jos fucking Verstappen, he's the trouble," Christian muttered. "Don't worry, alright? If anyone ever gives you a problem, reach out to me."
She nodded. "Thanks again. Oh!" She turned to Max, smiling hopefully. "I already asked Checo and he said yes to doing it this week. Would you be up to 24 hours with you at Monaco? Not the full 24 hours since I don't want to watch you sleep, but I just stick with you for the rest of the day and show fans a behind the scenes look at what a practice or quali day for you looks like."
"Why?" he asked, still stuck on the thought of her watching him sleep.
"Well! Casual fans don't realize how much work goes into being you. The training and diet and analyzing and teamwork. All the stuff you do even before practice and quali, like walking the track."
"For the whole day."
"Yeah, except for sleeping. I mean, that would probably really ramp up views, but—"
"I'm not that interesting though," he said. Why would anyone want to spend a practice or quali day with him?
"Oh don't start with the modesty. You're an elite athlete. I'm not asking you to invite me into your bedroom and let me show your bed to the world, just a small peek at what you're like. We can highlight your sim racing, explain how it's helped you learn the tracks so well. Talk about your suit, why the fireproof is so important." She tipped her head. "Maybe a shot of your suitcase to prove you do have clothes other than Red Bull gear? If you do, because I'm beginning to think you only have one pair of jeans and a Red Bull shirt."
He laughed at that, shaking his head. "I guess I can do it. We'll see how Checo's goes."
"Perfect. Speaking of, I'm doing that tomorrow so I gotta start posting to hype it up—"
"Meeting in two minutes," Christian told them.
Max looked at him, chagrined to admit he'd forgotten the man was there. "On the way," he promised, rubbing the back of his neck when Christian shot him a knowing look and headed off. Turning back to y/n, he cleared his throat. "I'm not showing my suitcase to the world."
"Is it that embarrassing?" she asked, clicking her tongue in sympathy. "Do you have Red Bull boxers too?"
"No, I—" he cut off, remembering the company's joke birthday gift to him the year before. "Okay, I do, but they're not in my suitcase."
"At least let me throw a team logo pillow on the bed—"
"Absolutely not."
She fell into step next to him, an extra bounce in her walk. "Are you saying there's already one there?"
He shouldn't say it. It would probably be inappropriate. He told himself that repeatedly, even as he drew a breath and opened his mouth. "Why the interest in my bed?"
"I told you, I love sleep. Oh." She frowned. "It'll be a hotel bed anyway."
Opening the motorhome door for her, he glanced up at the cloudy sky as the aroma of flowers he couldn't identify washed over him. "No?"
"Are you saying you get an Airbnb?" she asked in confusion. "Do they even have that in Monaco—"
"You didn't know? I thought you asked Google everything," he teased.
Her brow furrowed deeply. "Didn't know what?"
"I live in Monaco. So no, it wouldn't be a hotel room."
The confusion melted away, her eyes widening a little. "Oh. Wow."
"Wow?" he echoed, heading to the stairs.
"You're rich rich."
"Don't say that," he requested, making a face. She made wealth sound dirty.
"In my defense I didn't think to look up everyone's salary when I got hired. I mean I knew you were rich, but—"
"Stop saying it—"
"Sorry." She smiled sweetly, which told him she wasn't sorry at all. "Have a good meeting, Max. Oh, wait!"
He stopped at the top of the stairs, huffing when she lifted her phone and snapped a photo of him. "Why do you need a picture of me right now?"
"To show the world that even Max Verstappen, three time world champion, record breaker and maker, is sometimes late for a meeting."
Dragging a hand over his face, he sighed. "You're in a strange mood today."
"I'm getting comfortable. It's what I do. Lull everyone into thinking I'm sweet and quiet, then once I know I can relax I let my true self out."
"I'm scared to ask what your true self is," he admitted, ignoring his phone when it began to buzz with a phone call.
"Chaos," she told him, snapping another photo. "And I'm so putting a team logo pillow on your bed next week."
"No," he warned her as she turned to go back down the stairs. "No pillow."
"Go to your meeting or I'll post on Twitter than you have Red Bull boxers!"
"You wouldn't."
"Try me, rich boy."
And, damn everything, he laughed. She spun at the bottom of the stairs, giving him a smile that was pure sunshine. Not about to tempt fate, he held up his hands in surrender and went to the conference room for the meeting, still smiling as he slid into his seat next to Checo. When the meeting was over he hung back, his smile long gone as he waited for whatever Christian had to say.
"Two things," Christian started, leaning back in his seat with a sigh.
Max rolled his water bottle between his hands and stayed silent.
"Your dad."
He nodded. "I'll talk to him—"
"He's on probation now. If he so much as looks at anyone the wrong way, he'll be banned from the garage and the paddock." Christian steepled his hands. "It would probably be best if I did it now, but…"
"I'll talk to him," Max said again, already dreading that conversation. "Sometimes he speaks before he thinks, and unfortunately y/n was on the receiving end."
"Are you defending him?"
"No. I'm saying…" What was he saying? He didn't even know himself, so how could he explain it to Christian?
"You're saying what he would expect you to say. Max." Christian leaned forward. "I know he's your father. But – what did y/n say? He creates a toxic environment."
Max was on his feet and pacing before he realized he was moving. "What do you want me to do? Cut him out of my life completely? He's my dad. He made me who I am." Slinging his cap onto the table, he ran a hand through his hair. "He gave up on a marriage so I could achieve my dreams. I know people call it abuse and yeah if I could change the past I would, or at least some parts, but… Would I be me if he didn't do what he did?"
Christian sighed and Max hung his head. The bitterness between team principal and his father had been around as long as he could remember. And he understood, he did. Most days even he didn't like Jos that much.
"What he said to y/n was unacceptable. I know that. When she told me, I…" He paused, unsure whether he wanted to admit what his first thoughts had been. Starting to pace again, he stopped at the window and looked outside, noting that the earlier clouds had rolled away. "I was ready to tell you to ban him."
Christian nodded. "You sure you want to talk to him? Because I'll do it. I don't have a problem telling him to go fuck himself."
"I should do it," Max said with a sigh.
There was silence from Christian, and Max finally snatched up his hat and sat back down. "I'll do it, Max."
He would never admit to the rush of relief at those words. "What was the other thing?"
"Y/n."
He set his jaw. "What about her?"
"She's off limits."
Max blinked. "How do you mean?"
"I've seen the way you look at her."
He pinched his eyebrows together. He wasn't aware he'd been looking at her in any particular way. He just…looked at her. It was true that she did make him smile a little bit more than he usually did, but that had to be due to her self-professed chaos—
"It's in her contract. Yours too, I'm sure."
"I'm – Nothing's happened." Yes, she'd slept in his private room and yes, his sheets had smelled of her and given him dreams he shouldn't have been dreaming. But nothing else had happened.
Soft hands, plush hips, bright eyes, lush mouth—
"Keep it that way. We can't afford another PR disaster."
Max snorted, unsure how anything he did – not that he would do anything – with y/n could come close to the disaster Christian had caused. "I'm not texting her, so."
"Cheeky bastard," Christian muttered. "Go get prepped for practice."
Grabbing his water bottle from the floor, Max left. Off limits. What the hell did that even mean? He couldn't be friendly with her? He couldn't keep his promise to watch a movie with Kevin?
Fuck Christian anyway, he wasn't one to talk about someone being off limits, he decided. He went down for another coffee, inconspicuously looking around for y/n. Not seeing her, he turned his attention to the upcoming practice, trying his best to push his worries about his father to the back of his mind.
When he approached the garage he saw her, and he frowned slightly when he saw Logan talking to her. Did they know each other? They obviously did, judging by the way she laughed at something he said. Sourness filled his mouth and he gulped down his water, grunting when a hand suddenly clapped his shoulder.
"Mate, you coming out tonight?" Lando asked with a grin.
"Not a good idea to go out before quali, mate," Max said automatically.
"I'm not gonna get drunk. A few of us are just going out to eat. You in?"
"I think I'll skip it. But we'll go out Sunday?"
Lando's grin widened and Max chuckled, knowing he was remembering what little he could of the celebration in Miami. Lando loved to party after a race. "Absolutely. Good practice, yeah?"
Max grinned, bumping fists with him before they parted. The American was still talking to y/n. Didn't he need to get ready? Go fluff his hair or something? Walking up to them, he nodded at Logan. "Have a good practice alright, mate?"
"Oh, yeah, better get to the garage." Logan turned and flashed a smile at y/n. "I'll see you later, okay?"
"Sure. Be safe," she said.
She was smiling a little too hard, in his opinion. And then she was—
Hugging? Him?
Max felt like he might vomit.
"Later, Max," Logan said as he jogged off.
"What did he want?" Max asked.
She looked up from checking something on her camera. "Hm? Oh, nothing, just chatting. He's nice."
"Yeah, a complete sweetheart," he said with a roll of his eyes. Then, shoving the sourness away, he cleared his throat. "I've got the sim racing tomorrow after quali, then the race is Sunday."
Y/n blinked, then nodded slowly. "Yes?"
"I promised Kevin we'd watch the movie?" he reminded her.
"Oh, yeah. Don't worry about it, I know you're too busy. He hasn't even mentioned it again, I'm sure he's already forgotten." She turned slightly and knelt to take pictures of his car in the garage.
"But I promised."
"Max, it's really not that big a deal."
It was. To her it might not be. If she couldn't do something with her son when she had promised she could, she was able to do it another time. He couldn't just show up to her flat to watch a movie. And Kevin had been so excited… He tried not to remember all the promises that had been made to him as a child, promises he had learned at an early age would never be kept. "Y/n…"
She looked up at him, drawing a breath to, he was sure, tell him again that it was fine. But she paused, studying his face, and he heard her sigh as she lowered the camera. "This is really important to you, isn't it?"
"And to Kevin," he pointed out.
"He did talk about it a lot last night before he went to sleep. Made sure the hotel tv had Disney plus and asked if Ellie would buy some popcorn…" She sighed, smiling. "Did you want to do it next week before Monaco?"
"I was thinking today? After the practice and debrief. If you're not too busy," he added, unintentionally looking towards the Williams garage.
"No, I don't have any plans. Just editing and posting, and I can do that while you two watch a movie. I've got plans for dinner, but there's plenty of time."
"Plans?" he asked, trying his best to sound casual.
"Yeah! Logan offered to take me out to see a little of the town. He's offered to be my tour guide."
At night. Now he knew he would vomit. "How delightful," he managed.
"Yeah, he's sweet. Don't worry, I won't give away any secrets."
The sourness returned, doubled, and he recognized it now as jealousy. Which was beyond ridiculous, because she wasn't his to be jealous over. Seeing that she was about to stand he immediately offered his hand, easily steadying her as she rose to her feet.
"Thanks."
He wondered what sort of cream she used on her hands. They were so soft. "Y/n—"
"Max!"
Y/n's smile faded and she practically snatched her hand away. "I'll message you the hotel info," she said, turning on her heel and sweeping into the garage.
"I need to talk to you," his father demanded.
Looking into the garage, he saw that he had a full thirty minutes before practice began. No way out of this conversation. Nodding, he followed his father to a relatively secluded spot, keeping his head down.
*-*
"His father is such an asshole, honestly. We were talking outside the garage and he marched up like he owns the—" Y/n glanced to make sure Kevin still had his headphones on and wasn't listening in. Seeing that he did and wasn't, she turned back to Ellie. "—fucking place and barked at him all 'I need to talk to you' like the guy isn't about to go out on the track."
Ellie made a face. "What a prick. What did he have to say to him that was so important?"
Y/n shrugged, bending to gather the dirty pair of socks off the floor. "No idea. He dragged him off and I could see them but couldn't hear anything. I felt so bad for Max."
"I would have too. And he didn't say anything when he got back to the garage?" Ellie smoothed the bedding while y/n stuffed the dirty laundry into a sack.
"Not to me." Sighing, y/n dropped the sack inside the bathroom and then got down on her hands and knees to make sure nothing embarrassing was lying around. "He looked like a kid getting yelled at, Ellie. I had no idea his dad was that much of an—"
She saw Kevin moving and stopped, getting to her feet while he set his tablet and headphones on the table. "Gotta pee, mama," he said, sliding out of the chair.
"Did you finish your game?" she asked while Ellie looked around to make sure the hotel room was presentable.
"Yeah, it's easy," Kevin said.
"Are you gonna tell him?" Ellie whispered.
"No… What if he can't make it? I don't want to get his hopes up." Y/n pushed the chair in at the table and checked the tablet, seeing that Kevin had indeed finished the alphabet game she'd downloaded that morning for him.
"If he doesn't come, maybe we can—" Ellie laughed when there was a knock at the door. "Never mind."
"It might not be him," y/n muttered, even though she knew it had to be. He'd been so insistent, and she'd been able to tell that it was possibly more important to him than it would be to Kevin.
"I'll make sure the lil rugrat washes his hand," Ellie murmured, slipping into the bathroom.
Y/n rubbed her hands on her thighs and went to open the door, giving the hotel room one last glance before doing so. And, just as she'd known, Max was in the hallway. "Hey," she greeted softly, eyes widening a little when she saw he was wearing a pair of sweats and a hoodie. "Holy shit, you're allowed to wear non-Red Bull clothes?"
He snorted, letting out a laugh when she just stared at him. "Very funny."
"No, no, I'm serious. Isn't that in your contract or something?" Stepping back, she finally gave him a grin. "C'mon in."
"I don't know if he's allowed, but I brought some sweets." Max held up the grocery bag hanging from one finger.
"Yeah, he's allowed. No allergies or anything," she assured him, closing the door once he'd stepped inside. "He's washing his—"
"Mister Max!"
Y/n nearly teared up. Her son sounded so excited, and she had a moment of panic for letting him befriend Max. He was too busy to drop by regularly, and after Monaco Kevin would be staying home with Ellie, so—
"There's my little mate!"
Fuck's sake, even Max sounded excited. As though a movie with a three year old was the height of his day. Looking on as he swung Kevin up and spun him in a circle, she took the bag and emptied the packets onto the table while Ellie greeted Max and brought out the popcorn from where she'd hidden it from Kevin. Max and Kevin talked nonstop to one another, Max telling him about practice after Kevin gave him a detailed report on what he'd done all day. The boy grabbed his tablet and showed him the games he'd played, showing off his alphabet skills.
"You're good with letters, yeah? Maybe you'd be good learning a new language?" Max suggested.
"Do you know a new language?" Kevin asked.
"He's really good with him," Ellie whispered to y/n.
"Shh," she hissed. Because she already knew. And she didn't need it pointed out to her. Besides, she was listening to Max tell Kevin about the languages he spoke, then to him rattle off a few sentences in each one, much to Kevin's amazement.
"Can you teach me?" he asked hopefully.
"When I can, kleine maat." Max ruffled Kevin's hair. "That means little mate."
"You're my big mate," Kevin decided.
"Grote maat," Max said, repeating it slowly a couple times before Kevin said it properly. "There you go. You'll be speaking Dutch like a pro in no time."
"You want a drink, Max?" Y/n offered. "We don't have Red Bull, sorry—"
"Water's fine. Thanks."
"Can I have water too, mama?"
Nodding, y/n fixed their drinks while Kevin turned on the TV and opened Disney+, rolling her eyes when he told Max the password so he could put it in for him. She saw that Ellie was putting on her shoes and raised her eyebrows. "Where are you going?"
"Oh, I don't want to intrude on big mate, little mate bonding time," Ellie said with a small smile. Peeling Kevin from Max long enough to give him a quick hug, she grabbed her wallet and phone. "And I've seen Mulan about six hundred times, so I'm just gonna go for a walk. Take pictures. Get a coffee and a pastry."
"Have fun," y/n said.
"Mhmm, you too," Ellie said with a smirk as she left.
She rolled her eyes and handed Max his drink then Kevin his cup. Motioning for Max to have a seat on the small sofa, she couldn't help but smile when Kevin immediately climbed to sit next to him, and had the feeling that before the movie was over her son would be cuddled close to his big mate.
"Join us?" Max asked while Kevin looked for the movie.
"Work," she reminded him, transferring the sweets and popcorn to the coffee table and getting her laptop. "I'll watch from here."
"It doesn't look very comfortable."
"It shouldn't. It's work."
He looked ready to argue, but instead took a sip of his water and grabbed a bag of candy. Tossing it onto the table, he gave a small shrug when she looked at him. "You said you like strawberry milk."
Y/n looked from him to the bag several times. He remembered that? She'd mentioned it during the Q and A, when the question had been other than red bull what's your favorite drink? Staring at the bag, she felt a sudden rush of warmth. No one had bought her candy in so long… "Thank you," she murmured.
"You're welcome," he said softly.
She almost told him he didn't have to, but she knew that he already knew that. He'd done it because… She didn't know. Maybe to apologize for his father's behavior. Maybe to show he listened. Maybe, just maybe, because he'd seen it in the shop, remembered her liking strawberry milk, and had bought it because that was something he did, buy a little something for no other reason than you said you liked it.
She tried to focus on work, but the movie kept getting her attention. Finally she gave up, scheduling the posts she'd edited and closing her laptop. Grabbing a bottle of water, she joined them on the sofa as Mushu revealed himself to Mulan. As she'd expected, Kevin had already crawled into Max's lap, sharing his bag of popcorn with the man as they both focused on the movie.
"Mama," Kevin whispered, reaching for her.
She scooted closer, sighing as he turned so he could lean against her arm. Max shifted, and she tried to act nonchalant when he draped his arm behind her on the back of the sofa. Smoothing her son's hair, she pretended not to notice when the arm slid to her shoulders. He probably hadn't even noticed, she told herself, aware that his eyes were locked on the TV screen, paying attention to the movie. When Kevin's favorite part began he sat up, quickly sliding to the floor to sing along and she fully expected Max to pull away from her.
But he didn't, and she pulled her knees up, unable to focus on anything except the weight of his arm around her. It was solid but not uncomfortable, a very real reminder that she hadn't been in this position in a very long time.
"He's so mean," Kevin mumbled as Shun-Yu appeared on the screen. Y/n waited for him to hurry over to climb into her lap but he chose Max instead, and she bit back a sigh when the man gently soothed him, hugging him close.
"It's okay, kleine maat. The good guys will beat him, yeah?" he murmured, pausing the movie.
Kevin nodded against Max's shoulder. "Yeah but he's bad."
"A lot of people are," Max said softly. "But if we focus on that we don't see the good. Do you think about your happy days more or your bad days?"
"Happy days," Kevin said.
"Because they make you happy, yeah? If you think about bad days you'll always be having them. It's like that with people. Focus on the good and do what you can to keep the bad from happening. Bad happens, but the good will always be there."
"Okay."
"You ready to finish the movie?" Max asked gently.
Kevin nodded.
Max finally looked at y/n, glancing down when he saw the way she was staring at him. "I didn't—"
"No, you're good," she promised in a whisper, picking up the remote to resume the movie then hugging her knees. If she didn't occupy her arms, she would throw them around him. Usually she had to explain those things to Kevin. Ellie helped, of course, but Kevin always came to her for more explanation after a life lesson. But Max… He'd explained it so eloquently and gently that he'd understood. And she didn't know why, but, god help her…
It was the sexiest thing she'd ever witnessed.
His arm stayed around her shoulders through the rest of the movie. When Mulan was cast out, she got a little emotional as she always did, even after over six hundred views, and she felt his arm tighten around her, hesitating a tiny bit before letting her head lean against him. All she could smell now was him, the gentle but memorable sandalwood and amber scent that she remembered well from the day before.
"Gotta pee," Kevin announced a little bit later, clambering down and running to the bathroom. Max took the remote to pause the movie.
Y/n began to pull away, lifting her head when he squeezed her arm.
"You're fine," he whispered.
His face was so close. Seeing a tiny piece of popcorn on his chin, she reached up to brush it away, freezing at the sound of his sharp inhale. "Sorry, you got a little…"
When the hell had his eyes become so blue? Just a day ago they'd been a normal blue. Now they reminded her of the antique blue willow china her great grandmother had treasured. Her gaze slipped to his mouth and quickly moved back to his eyes and she heard him inhale again.
"Max?"
"Y/n, I…" His eyes flicked down and she unconsciously licked her lips.
She knew she shouldn't but she suddenly, desperately, wanted to know what it was like to kiss him. She hadn't thought about kissing anyone in what felt like a lifetime, but now she needed it. Lifting her chin slightly, she dropped her hand to his chest. "Max—"
"Y/n, you… I—"
"Okay!"
She snatched herself away from Max as though she'd been burned, going so far as to jump to her feet while Kevin rushed back to the sofa. "Go ahead and hit play, I'll be back in just a minute," she promised, nearly tripping over nothing in her haste to get as far away from Max as possible. "Hit play, it's fine, I've seen it a million times."
Once in the bathroom she closed the door and leaned against it, covering her face with both hands. What the hell was wrong with her? Just because she hadn't been kissed since— She dropped her hands, wrinkling her nose in thought. Kevin was three years and two months, and… At any rate, it had been so long she'd assumed she was never going to be kissed again. She hadn't even thought about it in ages, because she'd been so focused on work and raising her son and trying to survive. Now, all of a sudden, she was craving one so bad she'd practically begged him.
He'd been about to tell her he couldn't. She was sure of that. Which only made it even more embarrassing. How could he even want to? She'd seen the girlfriends of other drivers on the grid, there was no way he'd be even remotely interested in her. She wasn't a model or tennis star or whatever their occupations were.
Not to mention she couldn't. It would be wrong on so many levels. What kind of impression would her behavior leave on her son? Not to mention the troubles it would cause at work? And it was in her contract that any sort of fraternization with other members of the team were forbidden. She'd known that but she had read the full contract on the flight to Italy. If she and Max did anything it would eventually come out and she'd be jobless again, this time in a foreign country.
Checking her phone when she felt it buzz in her pocket, she sighed while reading Logan's text.
We're still on right?
She wanted to say no. The best thing for her to do would be to suffer through the rest of the movie, say goodbye to Max, have an early dinner, put Kevin to bed, then take the world's coldest shower. But she was already typing out her reply.
Of course! Looking forward to it.
And she was, she thought, seeing the delivered change to read then the three little dots that he was typing a message. Logan was fun. Nice. Completely uninterested in her romantically, she thought with a sigh.
Great. Be there at 8 to pick you up. Give Kev a high 5 for me?
Will do.
Pushing away from the door, she turned on the water to wash her hands and jumped slightly when there was a gentle knock.
"Y/n?"
"I'm almost done," she called.
She heard his sigh. "Can I come in?"
No. "Yeah, sure."
He opened the door and stepped in, and she swallowed when he closed the door behind him. "I…"
"Max, don't," she groaned, washing her hands and grabbing the towel. "You don't have to tell me you wouldn't have… Even if I wanted you to. I know."
"Wouldn't have what?" he asked.
God, could the moment get any more embarrassing? "I – You – Jesus, never mind."
"Kiss you?" he murmured.
Why did the way he said it sound like so much more than a kiss? "It's fine. Go back and finish the movie."
"Y/n, I can't."
"You have to leave?" she asked.
"What – no, not the movie," he said. Cupping a hand over his mouth, he breathed deeply and dropped his hand after a few seconds, looking pained. "I can't kiss you."
"Oh." Oh. "Do you have a girlfriend or—"
"If I had a girlfriend I wouldn't be in this tiny toilet with you."
And she believed him. He didn't seem the type to put himself in a situation that could be misinterpreted if he had a partner. "Right. Of course. Then…"
"It's…" He sighed.
"Are you gay? Because I won't tell any—"
"I'm not gay," he cut in gently. "It's… I'm not allowed to kiss you."
She blinked, suddenly understanding. And she wondered if he'd read the contract, too. "Right. Neither am I."
"Christian talked to you too?"
"No? Why would he?"
"He told me you're off limits." Max shook his head. "Said I look at you or something."
"Oh." He did? And just how did Max look at her? "I see."
"And it's in our contracts. Yours and mine, I mean. So… I can't."
She nodded. "Of course. Understood. No more explanation necessary, Max."
"I wouldn't want you to lose your job," he said softly.
She continued to nod. "Got it. Thanks."
He tipped his head, then reached to take the towel from her and she realized she was still drying her hands. "I'll still be Kevin's friend."
Still nodding, she picked up her hand cream and squeezed a dollop into her palm. "Thanks. He likes you."
"I like him too." He hesitated, watching her carefully. "You okay?"
"Peachy keen," she promised, rubbing the cream into her hands. "Just getting ready for my dinner."
His lips settled into a fine line. "Your date."
The way he said it irritated her. As though she was in the wrong for making plans with a new friend. "It's not a date, but yes."
"I'm sure you'll have a wonderful time," he said with absolutely no emotion.
"Well, he's not contractually obligated to be nice to me, so… I know I will," she said, forcing as much sweetness into her voice as possible.
"I'm not nice because of a contract," he snapped.
"Right, sorry, my mistake. He won't not kiss me because of a piece of paper," she corrected.
Max's eyes flashed, a muscle in his jaw twitching. "I thought it wasn't a date?" he asked carefully.
Good, at least he had some emotion. "Oh, so I'm only allowed to kiss him if we're on a date?"
"I didn't say—" He cut off, pressing his lips tight together and exhaling slowly. "You said it wasn't a date."
"Why do you care either way?"
"Is it a date or not?" he ground out.
"It's not." She took her hair down from the ponytail as he sighed with something like relief. "But it could be in the future."
"What, so you'll kiss him because I won't kiss you?"
"If I kiss him, it'll be because both of us want it," she said. She knew she was being silly, maybe even a little stupid. But he was acting as though he were doing her a favor. As though he were somehow honorable, a gentleman even, because he refused to do what she now knew they both wanted.
"Y/n, I can't—"
"A word I'm sure you're not used to saying about yourself," she muttered under her breath.
"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, an edge in his voice.
"I didn't know that 'can't' was in your vocabulary is all." Looking at her phone to check the time, she cleared her throat. "Now, if you don't mind, I have to change."
He hesitated while she opened her makeup bag. "Do you want to kiss him?"
"Why do you care?"
He visibly bristled. "I don't want you to get hurt."
"Does he have a reputation for hurting women?" She picked up her hairbrush, and had brushed out her hair completely before he finally answered.
"No." It sounded like it hurt him to say it. "He's nice."
"Then you don't have to worry."
"Where are you going?"
"Oh, no." She laughed humorlessly. "You don't get to ask that. Now please, I have to change."
He stared at her, looking annoyed and irritated, his jaw still twitching. Then, with a huff, he turned to open the door. And froze when he saw the dress hanging from the hook. "Is… That's what you're wearing?"
"Oh my god, Max, you're starting to sound like a jealous boyfriend."
"I'm not jealous," he snorted.
"And you're not my boyfriend," she snapped.
She waited for him to turn around and restart their argument. Altercation. Whatever it was. Instead, he muttered something under his breath and snatched the door open. Went out, closing it. And sounded perfectly normal when he apologized to Kevin and resumed the movie.
Y/n was still annoyed even after changing and doing her makeup. She fussed over her hair, unsure whether she wanted to wear it up or down, finally leaving it down. She was fully aware that she was putting more work into her appearance than she would have if Max hadn't said what he had, and still knew she was being silly and stupid. Hadn't she just told herself nothing could happen between them?
Yes, but maybe if he hadn't acted as though he were doing an immense favor she wouldn't be so upset. I wouldn't want you to lose your job. Indicating that if he kissed her and they were found out, his job was secure.
"Sanctimonious prick," she muttered while she spritzed perfume on her wrists and rubbed them together. As she exited the bathroom the outer door of the room opened and Ellie came in, her jaw dropping when she saw her.
"Holy shit babes, you look amazing!"
She smiled, doing a turn for her friend. "You think so?"
"His jaw is gonna be on the floor the whole time. Holy shit, milf alert." Ellie whistled softly, waving her hand as though overcome with heat.
Y/n giggled. "Thanks."
The movie was ending and Kevin oohed and aahed over her dress, telling her over and over how pretty she was. Max stared at her, his jaw set, but said nothing, looking away and starting to clear up the remains of the snacks.
"Isn't she pretty, grote maat?" Kevin asked.
And even though her back was to him, she felt his gaze. Glancing over her shoulder at him while she fastened her necklace, she watched his shoulders rise and fall with a sigh. "Very pretty, kleine maat."
"You're supposed to tell her," Kevin whispered. "Always tell a lady she's beautiful. Right, aunt Ellie?"
"That's right, buddy," Ellie said proudly. She gave y/n an odd look, silently asking what had happened, narrowing her eyes when y/n merely shrugged.
"Because women are pretty all the time," Kevin went on and y/n smiled. At least she was doing something right…
After fastening her earrings she turned from the dresser, breath catching in her throat when she found Max staring at her. Vaguely aware of Ellie telling Kevin to wash his hands so they could eat the dinner she'd brought, she squatted, getting her heels from her suitcase, along with her shawl.
"Je bent mooi," Max said.
She met his gaze as she rose to her feet. "What's that mean?"
"You're beautiful," he whispered.
"Thank you." And though she knew it was catty, she couldn't help the words that slipped out of her mouth. "Do you think Logan will like it?"
His jaw twitched. "He'd be stupid not to."
"That doesn't answer my question," she practically cooed, slipping on her heels.
He made a sound of disgust in his throat. "He's annoying and dumb sometimes, but he's not stupid. So, yes, I think he'll like it."
"Look at you, hyping me up." She wasn't stupid either, she could hear and feel the jealousy. Good, she thought, getting her small handbag and transferring her few necessities to it.
"Is he picking you up?" Max asked. "Or are you meeting him somewhere?"
"Are you gonna stick around and question his intentions?" she scoffed. "Because if so, I'm meeting him."
"I just—"
"Do you want some pasta, Mister Max?" Kevin asked as he came out of the bathroom with Ellie.
"Ah, maybe next time," Max said after clearing his throat. "You eat some for me, hm?"
She wanted to be mad that he was so good with her son. Proclaim they could only ever be coworkers, then turn around and continue to be her son's favorite person. It wasn't fair. But she didn't want him to be mean to Kevin. So she smiled, fixing her shawl while Max told Kevin he would see him at quali tomorrow, wishing she could stay mad at him but that was impossible, especially when he lifted her son up and gave him a tight hug, telling him he'd enjoyed the movie.
"Can we watch another one day?" Kevin asked hopefully and y/n drew in a breath, prepared to say they couldn't ask Max that, he was too busy.
"Of course we can. You pick the movie and we'll watch it next week?"
He gave Kevin another hug then gently encouraged him to eat his dinner, smiling and saying goodnight to Ellie. Then he turned to her, and she felt an unexpected heat ripple through her as his eyes slowly looked her up and down.
"Thanks for coming," she murmured, walking him to the door.
"I enjoyed it." He rubbed the back of his neck. "For the most part."
"Kevin had a great time."
"Yes. And that's all that matters."
Ouch. "Goodnight, Max."
"Enjoy your dinner with Logan."
"I will."
He rocked back on his heels, exhaling harshly. "I'm…" He cleared his throat. "Goodnight, y/n."
She closed the door and bit back a whine. Stupid, stupid, stupid—
"Talk tonight when you get back?" Ellie asked gently, watching her while she fixed Kevin's plate.
"It's nothing," she insisted, double checking that she had everything in her handbag. Phone, ID and passport, room key, lipstick, mirror. "Just being stupid."
"You're not stupid, mama," Kevin said anxiously.
"I know, thank you. Sorry. Just feeling stupid."
"But you look so pretty," he told her.
She smiled, sighing as she crossed the room to kiss his cheek. "You're the best son in the world, you know that?"
He giggled, rubbing the lipstick from his cheek. "And you're the best mama."
"Only because you're the best son," she insisted.
"Do you like Mister Logan?" he asked suddenly, scrunching his face when she fastened the bib around his neck.
"He's nice. But he's just a friend."
"But." Kevin's lips poked out in thought. "He's taking you on a date."
"Dinner. You know how you miss Cotton?" She took a napkin and cleaned the smudge of lipstick from his cheek when he nodded. "He misses America sometimes. It's kind of like when you pet the cats on your walks."
"Ohh…" Kevin nodded with all the understanding a three year old could muster. "So he's gonna pet you?"
She blinked, instinctively reaching to swat Ellie's arm when her friend choked back a giggle. "Not exactly," she groaned. "We're just gonna talk."
Ellie was still giggling ten minutes later when Logan knocked on the door. "Sorry, sorry," she gasped when y/n shot her a glare. "I'll behave."
"That'll be the day," y/n muttered under her breath as she went to open the door. "Hey," she greeted warmly, smiling up at him.
He was dressed in slacks, a button down, and a jacket. His smile faded a little as he stared at her, and she saw his throat move as he swallowed. "Whoa. You look great."
"Thanks. You do too."
She let him in so Kevin could say hi, ducking into the bathroom to fix her lipstick and remind herself that it was just dinner. Logan was just a friend, or at least would hopefully be a friend. Saying goodnight to her son, she felt her shawl slipping, ignoring Ellie's knowing look when Logan immediately reached to catch it, his hands gentle as he draped it over her shoulders. Just dinner. Just dinner with just a friend.
But when they walked down the street to the restaurant, which was just around the corner, and his hand brushed hers she told herself it was alright. And when he slipped his hand protectively over hers she didn't pull away. In the restaurant when Lando and a few others called out to him she hung back, blushing when Logan gently tugged her along to greet his friends.
"Didn't know you had a date tonight, mate," Oscar commented, nodding to her in greeting.
She could have corrected him. Could have announced to everyone that it wasn't a date. But Logan's bashful chuckle warmed her and she smiled. "We American's have to stick together," she said, enjoying Logan's laugh.
"You know, England is an ally," Lando said with a smirk.
"Still haven't forgiven you for taxation without representation," she sighed.
"That wasn't me," Lando defended while the others laughed.
"Your ancestors though," Oscar told him.
"They were doing what they thought was right? How am I at fault now?"
"You opened your mouth," Carlos said with a laugh.
"C'mon, babe, our table's ready," Logan murmured, hand slipping to the small of her back.
"Enjoy your date!" Oscar called after them.
"I hope you trip over your independence!" Lando yelped when Oscar elbowed him.
Laughing, y/n let Logan guide her to the other side of the dining room, where they were thankfully shielded from the table of drivers. He held the chair for her and she thanked him while the waiter handed them the menus.
"I'm sorry about that. Oscar and Lando… I should have told them it wasn't a date," Logan said once they were alone.
"It's fine," she assured him. "I mean, technically, it is a date."
"I guess so. I just don't want you thinking I'm making it out to more than it is."
"What is it?" she asked.
"Two friends, hopefully. Spending time together." He looked up from his menu. "Probably should have taken you somewhere more casual, huh? This place makes it look like I'm trying to impress you."
She hadn't thought of it like that. "…Are you trying to impress me?"
"Do you want me to?"
Their eyes met and she slowly inhaled, thinking over what the best answer would be.
So you'll kiss him because I won't kiss you?
Do you want to kiss him?
She exhaled, sending thoughts of Max as far away as possible. "I think I do."
He looked relieved and oh, so handsome in this light. "Then I might be trying to impress you a little."
"You're doing amazing so far."
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#f1#f1 fic#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#max verstappen#max verstappen fic#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen imagine#my writings > mv > rulebreaker
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The First Morning ☀️
Masterlist — OG Drabble
Boyfriend!Ghost x Chubby!Reader, but they wake up in each other's body.
A.K.A. How Simon would react to waking up in his dear lovie body.
There isn't any freaky accident, no car crash pushing one against the other, no lightning hitting them and melting them together, not a bullet flying hitting the one jumping in front or the other but still going through the both of them. Any of that.
Simon just got back from deployment, left the guns at the base, told Price he would be back in the morning and went home to you. Took off his boots, took a shower, got into the bed with you, made sweet sweet love to you while cuddling (you being the little spoon) and then fell asleep with you in his arms.
So there is no reason as to why he can see himself staring back at him from the bathroom door. At first, he thinks he's dead, he got distracted and was unable to outrun the inevitable. But then he realizes he's alive, and he sits up pulling away the covers. He never expected that seeing your naked body would cause him an even remotely negative sensation, but seeing it in first person point of view without further explanation has him jumping off the bed as if that would push him back into his original body.
“Simon?” A deep voice emerges from his body on the other side of the room, his own voice sounding strange not coming from within himself. He asks your name, weirded out by the higher pitch voice that he manages to get out.
“I am not dreaming, right? You are seeing your body too, right?” You ask, a bit of shake on your voice so uncharacteristic of the body it is coming out of.
“No, love. I can also see us in each other body.” He says, leaving a sigh exhale. “C’mere, let's sit down for a second.”
He sits down at the feet of the bed, patting the mattress next to him. He looks at you, and he doesn't have time to say anything before you hit your forehead on the door frame of the bathroom causing you to crouch down grabbing your head. He wonders for a second how you didn't hit it on your way in.
You whine rubbing your head, and Simon can't help but cringe at the sound leaving his body. “Don't do that…” He says, trying to peel your hands away to check the damage and you whip your head to look at him, brows furrowed offended by his words. “Well, I'm sorry for cracking my head open, Simon.”
He sighs, rubbing his face. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry, it's just fucking weird to see myself like that.” He says, and when he takes his hands away from his face he sees you looking at his chest, well, your original body chest. “It's that how much my boobs move when I talk?�� You ask, frankly surprised by the amount of movement.
“Love, I know your boobs are hypnotic, but let's focus.” He says, covering his chest with his hands. You quickly nod, coming back to your senses and stand up, once at your full size you look down at Simon, who is still crouching down staring between your legs. He looks up, a little terrified expression on his face when he makes eye contact with you. He stands up without saying anything, but you have just earned yourself another kind of respect from Simon, because if he had to affront somebody his size while being yours, he would be terrified.
He looks at the time on his phone and says: “I need to leave in 40 minutes to make it on time at the base.”
“I'll send a message to the office that I need to work from home for a couple of days, it'll be okay.” You answer, picking up your own phone to send said message.
“Perfect, we both going to the base then. We'll explain everything to the Captain, I don't think he'll be able to help but there is no point in hiding it, it wouldn't work.” He says, opening your closet to find clothes
“Wait… I'm going to meet your team?” You ask, surprised because Simon has always told you that he didn't want to expose you either to the military or his own team, justifying as it being too risky for your own safety. He sighs turning to look at you and nods. “Yeah, it's not ideal and I would have very much rather introduce you to them with you on your own body but I guess this is how we are doing it now. Get dressed, doll.”
Each of you begins to walk to your closet, only to stop once you reach it and turn around to walk to the other one. Picking up the clothes for Simon is easy, his uniform is always ready just as you open the door. You pick up a pair of knickers from his drawer, and frown when you see there is a hole in it. You pick up another one, only to find the same hole. “Simon.” You call him, getting a hum as a response that he is listening. “Why is all your underwear ripped?”
“What?” He asks, turning around to figure out what you are talking about. When he sees it on your hand, he chuckles before explaining. “That's not ripped, is on purpose, to get your dick out to pee without taking them off.”
There is a beat of silence before you ask. “I beg you pardon?” Simon laughs at your reaction and says. “Put them on, then try what I told you.”
You hold a hand up, letting Simon know to wait and you put the underwear on. You peek through the hole in the underwear and realise it is at the perfect height to get your new dick out. And it is then that you realise: “Wait… I can pee standing up!” You exclaim looking at him like you just discovered a new continent. Simon nods at you smiling softly when he sees you walk to the bathroom. “Watch your head.” You managed to avoid the hit in the last second thanks to him, and raise the toilet lid.
Simon walks behind you, crossing his arms when he sees you crouching down on the toilet. “What are you doing? Stand up!” He says confused.
“I don't want to pee out!” You say back, still in an awkward position. You hear him chuckle again and then you feel a stinging slap on your ass cheek causing you to move your hips forward away from his hand. “Simon!”
His hands find their way to your hips and move your hands to his dick to pee inside the toilet. “See? Not so hard right?” He says walking back to wash his hands and face, and then looks back at you when he sees a weird movement on the corner of his eyes. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing.” You say a bit too quickly and turn around, an obvious half-boner on your crotch. Simon sighs, half laughing at the way you act as if there is nothing wrong.
“Lovie.” He says walking up to him, holding your hands. “I'm gonna need you to keep your mind clear, all right? Nothing nasty is that little head of yours, all right?”
“Simon.” You say, holding back his hands. “I'll try my best… but I can't promise anything.”
You kiss his forehead, before walking back to the room, barely hitting your head again and walk to your closet. Pulling clothes out for Simon, pitying his own style of clothing and choosing some of your more tame clothes. A pair of straight black jeans, a white undershirt and a grey jersey; Simon shows his gratitude towards your choice with a quick nod before getting dressed. Before he puts the shirt over his head you are quick to throw your bra at him: “Put it on, Simon. I'm not meeting your boss with my nipples saying hi before me.” He groans, as if it was a daily occurrence and you quickly put on the rest of the clothes.
You turn around when you are ready and chuckle when you hear Simon complain under his breath about the bra stabbing him. He puts the rest of the clothes on and turns to you, checking for your approval and you nod at him smiling. You walk into the bathroom to pick up the brush and come back, sitting on the bed and asking him to step between your legs to brush your hair.
You do a braid on your hair, keeping the hair from his face and smile at him when he looks at you. He sighs and picks up his mask from his nightstand. “Try it on, alright? If it suffocates you or something, take it off; but if you don't mind I would like it a lot if you keep it on.”
You nod, and help him put it on without twisting an ear. You readjust it and take a couple of deep breaths to test it, you look at him and shroud your shoulder. “Fine for now, I'll tell if I start to feel like I'm dying.”
You stay looking at each other for a second broken by your voice “We should be a lot more panicked than we are, right?”
“Yeah, probably.” He says resting his hand on your shoulder as yours finds his way to the back of his knees. “But it's still us, so. It's just us, like always.”
Once the both of you are dressed and ready for the day, the both of you walk out to his car. You enter the copilot seat, hitting your head on the way in but starting to get used at this point. Simon enters the driver seat, looking confused when he can’t reach either the pedals or the wheels. He moves the seat to the front, and looks at you: “This is how close you need to move the seat to drive? If you ever get in a crash you are out before you see the other car, love.”
#lovi writes 🩷#call of duty#cod#ghost#simon ghost riley#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#cod x reader#ghost cod#simon riley#chubby#call of duty headcanons#call of duty imagine#ghost headcanons#simon imagine#ghost imagine#simon ghost imagine#task force 141#call of duty x reader#cod modern warfare#call of duty modern warfare#cod mwii#ghost mw2#ghost simon riley#ghost riley#ghost x female reader#ghost x y/n#ghost x you
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Coppélia
Chapter 4 - The Piano Man
Chapter Summary - It's the night before Y/N is supposed to meet with Seonghwa and his partners, and a new visitor is waiting for her in her dressing room.
Series Masterlist
The nerves kicked in a lot earlier than I thought. The Friday night before I was supposed to meet Seonghwa and his partners, I felt unbelievably sick to my stomach. So much so that I genuinely thought I was going to throw up during the final bows.
I shuffled into my dressing room, hand rubbing my stomach as a pout adorned my features. A throat cleared from my right, causing me to jump in surprise. A tall man with dyed blond hair slowly pushed off his spot on the far wall.
"Sorry for scaring you." He says, his voice deep and gruff. I clear my throat.
"It's fine, just tired from the show," I say, offering him a smile. Another handsome guy coming to visit me? I really must be good.
"Seonghwa said we should come and watch, didn't understand why until now." He states and the smile fades. Seonghwa. He knew Seonghwa. "Oh! I'm Mingi." He says with an awkward smile, extending his hand before quickly retracting it and wiping the palm on his hands. He was nervous, in a cute way, which I found funny considering how intimidating he looked.
"You know Seonghwa?" I ask. I walked past him and towards my dresser where sure enough another bouquet of fresh Gardenias waited for me.
"Uh, yeah. He sent me to give you details about tomorrow night." He says, hesitating to follow me. I bit back a smile, already finding his presence endearing.
"So you're one of his assistants?" I ask, glancing up at him through the mirror. He looked too well dressed to be just an assistant, however I'd also expect ATZ Corps workers to be paid extremely well.
"No." He chuckles. "I'm a co-owner, like him. He just couldn't make it tonight so he sent me... Said you liked Gardenias so.." He mumbles the last part, scuffing his shoe on the carpet.
So he was one of the men who I'd be meeting with tomorrow, making that 3 I knew the faces of now. It felt refreshing to talk to him, then again it was the same with Seonghwa before he offered me that suspicious document. Was Mingi going to be the same?
"Uhm, miss? You okay?" Mingi asks, clearing his throat. My eyes widened as I turned to face him.
"Sorry! So, what were those details?" I ask, leaning back on the counter.
He thinks for a moment, like trying to order the details correctly in his head for a moment before nodding to himself in satisfaction.
"We'll be sending a car to your place at 6pm sharp, so be ready by then." He says. "We've booked a private room so it'll just be the nine of us."
"It's not expensive is it?" I cringe slightly, based on the place Seonghwa took me for our first date, I expected this dinner spot to cost more than all my furniture combined. Especially if there were private rooms to be booked.
"You don't need to worry about paying, we got that handled," Mingi says, offering me a toothy grin. I smiled back, however, my eyes didn't. Mingi looked at me for a moment before letting out a heavy sigh.
"I'm sorry, about all this." He says, tilting his head down in semi-shame. Was this guy really apologizing? I didn't think any of them had that capability considering their upbringing. "I know it's a lot, and a few of us agree." He explains.
"It's just easier for us this way. We all have similar types and it's hard to date when you're in our line of work." He rambled. He was rambling, to me, in my dressing room about his and his partner's odd situation. I couldn't help but bite back a smile finding his boba-eyed expression cute.
"Mingi, it's okay," I say with a breathy laugh, he perks up at the sound.
"Really?" He asked.
"Yes, really."
He stared at me momentarily, studying to see if I was being genuine before clearing his throat and looking away.
"I should warn you, some of the guys are a little... High maintenance." He says moving across the room to look at the Gardenias tucked away in the corner of the room.
"High maintenance?" I question, turning to find my clothes to get changed.
"They like things done a specific way. May not like it that you're asking for a change." He explains. "Especially Captain." He chuckles before coughing. "I mean Hongjoong."
I nod, taking my folded clothes before heading towards the changing room.
"Would you like me to leave?" Mingi asks his figure stiffening. I shake my head.
"No, you're fine," I say, giving him a smile before closing the curtain to keep myself out of sight. I couldn't hear him move as I changed back into my normal clothes, which gave me a sinking feeling. A thought crossed my mind, was this really one of the owners of ATZ Corp? What if he was just a random guy? I shake that thought to the back of my head, pulling my shirt over my head before pulling the curtain back.
Mingi stood exactly where he was, his eyes on the curtain and face stern. I stare back at him for a moment before he perks up suddenly.
"Are you hungry?" He asks, offering me a smile. I think for a moment.
"A little," I answered, shoving the sick feeling in my stomach down. If he's paying, I'll go. Free food is free food.
"Cool! Uhm, I'll wait for you outside?" He asks, taking a big step towards the door. I nod and watch him as he leaves, shutting the door behind him quietly.
Mingi was odd. I figured that pretty fast. He seemed a bit shy, probably pushed to talk to me by Seonghwa himself. Did I hurt the man's pride by my phone call? Is that why he laughed? To hide his embarrassment? I smile to myself at the thought, rarely did I manage to do that.
I quickly pack away my things, preparing everything for Monday night show preparations before taking a deep breath. I walked towards the door, opening it to see Mingi leaning on the opposite wall, waiting patiently. His hands were in his pockets and yet again, he was staring blankly at the door. I give him a tight-lipped smile, closing the door behind me.
He pushes himself off the wall before falling into step beside me.
"Can I ask you something?" I ask him as the cold night air hits our faces. He hums positively in response, holding the door open for me before shoving his hands back into his pockets. "Have you guys done this before? Like dated one girl?"
"Once before." He answers, his eyes ahead.
"What happened?" I ask softly. "If it's alright me asking?"
Mingi hesitates for a moment before speaking. "Can I be honest with you?"
I blink in surprise, "Of course." I whisper.
"The rumors that you may have heard... About our company and how we may be involved in some darker stuff." He starts, his throat bobbing as he swallows nervously. "They aren't entirely false."
I stop in my tracks, staring up at him. "You're serious?" I question.
He just looks down at me, his gaze serious and unblinking. "I'm telling you this now before you get into something you can't get out of." He says. "Because trust me when I say, once you're in, there's no getting out."
My feet are frozen to the pavement as I feel a lump in my throat. "What type of dark stuff?" I ask, my eyes boring into his.
"Stuff I shouldn't tell you." He answers softly. His eyes lowered for a moment before he turned to continue walking. My feet scramble into gear as I start to follow him again.
"Why are you telling me this? Wouldn't you get into trouble?" I ask, trying to catch up to his long strides.
"Because I don't want what happened to her to happen to you." He answers. "If there's a chance for me to save you by warning you now, then I'll take it." He stops outside of a pizza parlor, holding the door open for me once again.
He doesn't order anything, waiting patiently before paying for my pizza, carrying the takeaway box for me, and walking me back to my apartment. The apartment complex was probably as old as my grandparents, in desperate need of repairs and touch-ups. Occasionally the hot water would turn off, which meant I'd have to travel from the 7th floor to the basement where more often than not a lot of sketchy things would go done. I swear it's haunted, which doesn't help with my anxiety.
Mingi stands outside the lobby, staring up at the old and dingy building before handing me the pizza box.
"I thought you had money?" He questions, eyes gazing up at the building. I snap my head to look at him and raise my eyebrow.
"How did you know that?" I ask, unlocking the lobby doors.
His ears go pink and he stutters for a moment. "We may have done some research." He murmurs, lowering his head.
I look him up and down for a moment before shaking my head. "Thanks for the food, and walking me home," I say, holding the lobby door open with my foot.
"Y/N?" He calls out quietly. "Think about what I said, please?" His voice was soft, pleading. His boba eyes stared into mine, searching for anything to soothe his worries.
I sigh, glancing back into the building before looking back at him. "I will," I say, before turning and walking inside.
I did think about what he said. I was up all night staring up at my ceiling. What happened to that other girl? Did she die? Why would Mingi feel so obligated to go out of his way and warn me, especially considering the others may not have even thought of doing the same.
I was a stranger to him. A woman that Seonghwa spoke of when he was home and nothing more. My mind would drift to what he said about a few of the others. Did some of them not agree with the contract? I guess it made sense that it was hard for them to all date, considering how large ATZ Corp is. Even with eight people running it, it seemed like so much work.
And then I'd think about the 'darker' stuff Mingi claimed they were involved in. I knew it was common, I'd seen my own father indulge in some unlawful intimidation for the sake of his company, but the way Mingi said it... It was like it was so much worse than that.
I managed to fall asleep at around 4am, waking up a little past lunchtime. A car would come to get me at 6pm, that's what Mingi said anyway. I didn't know what type of car, but I assumed it would be expensive.
I lazed around until 4:30 before I started to get ready. I found the dress I wore for expensive Society dinners. A black dress with off-the-shoulder sleeves and a slit of one leg. I wore it more often than I care to admit, considering it was my most expensive item of clothing. I fished out a pair of heels found my purse and waited.
Was I really doing this? Did I even have to go? What would they do if I didn't? At five to six I took the elevator down to the lobby and waited just inside the doors.
Just like clockwork, a limousine drives up outside and parks out front. The driver gets out and walks to the side facing the building and waits patiently with his hands folded behind him. I take a deep breath.
No going back now.
Thank you all so much for the love so far! More chapters are coming now that the MV is out (don't forget to stream!) and they'll start getting a bit longer.
taglist:
@bellaptv @arilevenatz @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @hecateslittlewitchling @neuviloved @monstacheol @latisthegenderfluidwannabealone
#kpop#ateez#ateez fic#ateez ot8#ateez fanfic#ateez smut#ateez x reader#ateez angst#hongjoong#seonghwa#yunho#yeosang#san#mingi#wooyoung#jongho#atz x reader#atz#golden hour part 2
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Be still my foolish heart (don't ruin this on me)
Neighbor!Joel Miller x f!Reader
Summary: you and Joel have been neighbors for a while but despite your mutual interest in one another, you never crossed this line. until, after one tense situation, Joel slips up (based on this wonderful request!)
Tags: friends to lovers, love confessions, fluff and angst, Joel is your sexy neighbor you shamelessly drool over, also his toolbelt is an important character in the fic (don't judge me)
Warnings: angst, 'nice guy' alert 🙄, attempted assault (stopped by Joel), some nsfw content but not actual smut (yar girl is gettin there 😌)
Word count: 6.2K
A/N: hiiii my darlings!! sorry for the wait, i know it's been a long time but life was crazy. here's sth i've been workin for a looong time and honestly i stared at it for so long i no longer know if i'm proud of it or not 🙈 anyway, i really hope you guys will like it and as always, happy reading!! 💕
“I really don’t know how to thank you, Joel. This is incredible.”
Joel watched, slightly embarrassed, as you walked around the table with a wide, bright smile. You gripped one of the legs – the one that was previously crookedly attached and broke down when you put something heavier on the counter – and tested its stability. After a successful inspection you looked up at him.
“You’re a lifesaver.”
“Nah, nothin’ of the sort.” He waved his hand, feeling a big lump in his throat when you directed that pretty smile of yours at him. “M’just glad I could help.”
“You didn’t have to fix this, too, though.” You brushed the edge of the table which Joel sanded so you wouldn’t get a splinter from the rough surface. His eyes followed your fingertips before he coughed.
“Didn’t want you to hurt yourself. This side was practically smashed up, after all…”
“Still, I didn’t even need to ask you.” You shook your head in thoughts before glancing at him with gratitude. “Thanks again.”
“You really gotta stop thankin’ me.” Joel started to gather his things into the toolbox and wiped his palms on his pants (certainly not because they were slick with sweat). “It was a piece of cake.”
“But, you know.” You tilted your head to the left and right, scrunching your nose playfully, and it was so fucking adorable that Joel thought his heart was going to give out. “You already fixed the sink in my kitchen, that hole in the wall, my door, and now my table… Are you sure I’m not leeching off your generosity?”
A half-smile found its place on Joel’s face, and he shook his head with a chuckle. “M’sure. It’s only fair since we’re neighbors, sweet girl.”
Sweet girl.
Joel never knew if he wasn’t crossing the line by calling you that. You never gave any sign of discomfort or disgust when he did, but he also recognized that regardless of your reaction, he should stop. He couldn’t deny that his old heart harbored an embarrassingly big crush on you – after all, you were the most beautiful girl he had ever laid his eyes on – but it wasn’t right to think about you in that way.
If he only knew that every time he let those words of endearment slip, your heart started to do crazy somersaults.
Joel Miller was an extremely handsome man, there was no denying that. And with his deep drawl, the salt-and-pepper hair, the warm, brown eyes and that dangerous smirk he sometimes sent in your direction… it was no wonder you fell for him.
It also didn’t help that he was so kind, always ready and eager to help you with the smallest inconvenience. Sometimes it made you want to smash something in your house yourself, just to have an excuse for him to come over again and for you to be able to watch him work.
But you weren’t that desperate, yet. Yet.
Your daydreaming was rudely interrupted by a series of knocks on your front door. Both your heads snapped in the direction of the sound, but when you recognized the familiar pattern of it, your mood dampened in an instant.
Joel noticed the change in your expression, of course, and immediately stood up, leaving the toolbox on the floor.
“What is it?” he asked with a hint of alert in his gruff voice, but you shook your head.
“It’s nothing. Don’t go yet, okay? I’ll be right back.”
You exited the room before he could ask another question, and Joel furrowed his brows. He stayed rooted in spot, listening to your heavy step as you walked to the door and opened it. And then… he heard a male voice that started to say something to you.
Joel couldn’t help but grind his teeth as he finished gathering his stuff, ready to go back home. It was the second time that some man came to visit you while you had him over, and the bitterness he felt in his mouth was even more noticeable than on the previous occasion.
He knew you were quite popular in Jackson, especially with boys your age. There was always someone offering to buy you a drink or dance whenever you went out with your friends, and once Joel had to even step in when two drunk guys kept pestering you. But as much as it pained him, some of those men who showed genuine interest in you were quite nice. And good-looking.
And a lot younger than him.
He knew very well that he was too old for you. He knew that he shouldn’t fantasize about sharing a life with you, and that thinking of any form of intimacy between you and him was making him a big old creep, but no matter how many times he swore to himself it’ll be the last, he could not stop. You were just so beautiful, so sweet and so nice…
He saw your smiling face when he went to bed late at night, and imagined your body beside him when he woke up early in the morning. He looked at your house on his way to work and wondered if you were eating breakfast already, taking a shower or still sleeping peacefully amidst the many blankets he saw once on your bed. He felt a rush of energy and endorphins every time you knocked on his door, asking him to help you with something, and it only enhanced his already existent protectiveness toward you.
Suddenly, Joel heard a raised male voice from the porch, which instantly got his guard up. He quickly followed the sound, and upon rounding the corner he saw you trying to close the door on Jack, a boy he recognized but never talked to. He saw him a couple of times at the bar, though he wasn’t one of those bothering you and never seemed to give anyone any trouble.
Still, you looked really uncomfortable, so when your and Joel’s eyes met, he nodded reassuringly and took his place in front of you.
“Is somethin’ the matter?” he asked dryly. The sight of him took Jack aback and he opened his mouth, looking lost for a good moment. Joel raised his eyebrows, and the young man cleared his throat.
“Nothing at all. We were just chattin’.” Then Jack looked over Joel’s shoulder at you, completely ignoring the other man. “What the fuck is Miller doing in your house, anyway?”
You stammered, but Joel kept his cool, leaning against the doorframe casually. Jack was tall and well-built, but still smaller than Joel, and he made use of this fact to intimidate the boy to the extreme.
“Mr Miller is helpin’ her with the sink that needs fixin’,” Joel answered instead with a pang of irritation. “And you’re kinda interruptin’.” Jack didn’t move, and Joel clenched his jaw. “Scurry. Now.”
The boy huffed, murmuring something under his breath before he bid you a grudging adieu. Joel shut the door behind him with more force than he intended and took a second to calm his breathing before turning back to you.
“Sorry if that was too harsh–”
“No, don’t apologize.” You sighed tiredly and went to the living room, plopping down on the couch. “It’s okay. Maybe he’ll back off a little.”
Joel bit the inside of his cheek, wondering if he should ask the question that was gnawing at him mercilessly.
“Are…” he started, and you lifted your head. “I mean, are you two…”
“No!” you quickly answered, blushing a little to Joel’s surprise. “No, no, nothing of the sort. He asked me out and I told him I’m not interested, but he still tries to…” You waved your arm in the direction when he saw the youngster last. “I don’t know, convince me?”
Joel sat down next to you, clasping his hands together. “Well… if he ever gives you any trouble, you lemme know, alrigh’?”
A small smile spread across your face when you tilted your head to look at him.
“Thanks. I appreciate it.” Then a playful glint appeared in your eyes, and your smile turned mischievous. “...Mr Miller.”
A breathless laugh escaped Joel, and he dragged his hand over his face, praying that he managed to stifle a groan wanting to escape his chest. He shook his head to regain some clarity, but could still feel all the blood in his body rushing down. It didn’t help that your couch was too small, and your knees were touching – though Joel couldn’t tell if it happened when he sat down or a little bit later.
Fuck.
“Shut up,” he just murmured, not looking at you in fear you’ll see what your words did to him. “I tried to make him leave quicker.”
“And he did. And I think you deserve a reward for your help.”
You stood up and for a second Joel panicked. A reward, you said.
He couldn’t help the images that flooded his brain in that moment – of you on your knees in front of him, or bent over the table he just fixed. His eyes went to your thighs, and his own flexed involuntary when he envisioned how you’d feel underneath him, what sweet sounds he could coax out of you, how soft your skin would be in those places you kept covered…
But then you walked past him, and he snapped out of the naughty daydreams.
“Wh-where are you goin’?” he asked, his voice strained, and you looked over your shoulder with an oblivious smile.
“I made a cake this morning. I’m gonna bring you a piece, yeah?”
You didn’t wait for an answer, and just left the room with pep in your step.
Joel groaned and let his head fall back, covering the redness of his cheeks with his hands.
Idiot.
Almost two weeks have passed since the last time you asked for his help with something, and surprisingly, Joel was okay with that. After that embarrassment he experienced in his own mind, he told himself that it would be prudent to distance himself from you for a little bit. At least until he could act normally around you.
He still thought about you constantly, that he couldn’t help. Every time he saw you in town he instantly felt lighter, but so very often you were accompanied by another man – and no matter if you seemed comfortable with the attention or not, Joel always had this urge to come over and protect you from any unwanted suitors.
He was being ridiculous, he knew that. You didn’t like him the way he liked you, and even if he somehow grew a pair and told you about his feelings, a pretty and young girl like you would never be interested in someone who could be her father’s age.
The thought of you thinking of him as a father figure churned up his guts, making him feel sick. Jesus Christ.
But it still did nothing to weaken his infatuation, and when you finally knocked on his door again, asking if he could fix the rack in your room, he didn’t even hesitate before agreeing.
So here you both were. Joel, looking at the problem at hand, and you, looking at (none-the-wiser) Joel.
“S’nothin’ big,” he finally said after some examination. “I’ll replace the shelf and reaffix it to the wall better. Shouldn’t take long.”
You nodded, but truthfully you were only half-listening. The sight of Joel in your bedroom was far too distracting.
It’s been so long since Joel was a guest in your house – well, only a couple of weeks tops – but you missed seeing him in your private space. Though one could say, he never truly left with how often you thought about him.
So maybe that’s why you were so shameless with your staring.
His broad shoulders were to die for, and you bit your lip absentmindedly as your eyes wandered across his muscular back and forearms, usually hidden under the sleeves. You knew you shouldn’t be ogling your neighbor who was nice enough to lend you a helping hand whenever you needed, but… well, a little admiring wouldn’t hurt anyone, right?
And there was a lot to admire.
“You listenin’ to me?”
The brutal wake-up call of his voice pulled you out of your thoughts, making you blush wildly and your body hot with embarrassment at being caught staring.
Okay, maybe it would hurt someone.
“Y-yeah,” you stuttered, feeling your whole neck heating up rapidly. “Uh-huh. I understand.”
Joel’s lips stretched into a lopsided smile, and he turned to face you fully.
“I asked if you have some nails in the house,” he repeated, not breaking eye contact. If you allowed yourself to be delusional, you’d say his voice sounded almost… flirtatious. But that was probably only your head telling you what you wanted to hear.
“Yeah…” you breathed distractedly, but then shook your head quickly. “I mean, no. No, I don’t.”
Joel smirked, stepping closer to you and making you swallow heavily. Your gaze once again dropped to his strong arms, down to his big hands and… fuck. He had his thumbs hooked in his tool belt, already hanging low on his waist, and it made him look so ridiculously hot.
Lord have mercy.
“What got ya so distracted, sweet girl?”
Have fuckin’ mercy.
“Nothing!” you said, a bit louder than you intended, crossing your arms over your chest to do something with this splitting tension in your body. “I was just looking at… the shelf.”
Joel’s eyebrows shot upright. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that he didn’t believe you. “The shelf,” he repeated blankly, and you nodded, trying to appear calm despite feeling like you were going to burst into flames if he kept looking at you like that. But then Joel chuckled, and his eyes turned as warm as always. “M’only teasin’. Stop lookin’ so scared.”
“I’m not–” you started, but your lips also spread into a grin when you saw his genuine smile. “God, you’re insufferable. Will you fix it or not?”
“So demandin’,” Joel mused, shaking his head and walking out of the room. “I’m gonna go get the nails from my house. Be right back.”
You whispered under your breath something he didn’t hear, but it made him smile to himself nonetheless.
It was so easy to slip back into this playful banter with you, Joel thought as he made his way back home. Maybe things between you two won’t be as awkward anymore (though he was aware all this awkwardness was his fault), and he could go back to being your friend.
No matter that he wished he could be something more. No, it wasn’t right to think that way. What you two had was enough.
Still, as he looked for those damn nails, he couldn’t get out of his mind the way that adorable blush spread across your face. And how your eyes lingered on his figure when he looked at you. But no, surely he was only imagining things.
…right?
Joel sighed, closing the door behind him and going back toward your house, his thoughts already on the best way to fix that shelf of yours and maybe stabilize it a bit more, because by the look of how it hung on the wall, it was only a matter of time until he’ll have to visit again.
Or maybe he’ll leave it be. Only to have an extra excuse to see you sooner rather than later.
He rolled his eyes at his own musings, but the train of his thoughts abruptly stopped when he saw your front door slightly opened. He slowed down, wondering if you went after him… but no, there was no sign of you anywhere, and he was pretty sure he closed it on his way out.
And then he heard a faint sound of glass shattering.
Joel’s mind went completely blank. In a blink of an eye he stormed into the house, his survival instincts formed over the last twenty years kicking in and screaming for him to find you, to make sure you’re safe and unharmed.
But your bedroom was empty and when Jeol yelled your name, no one answered him. You were within the safe walls of Jackson, and there was no way the infected or raiders could ambush you, but still Joel felt an icy wave of panic washing over him, his mind providing him with terrible scenarios that would explain the open door and your silence.
Then a small thud reverberated from the other room, and Joel’s legs carried him there without a second thought.
He slammed the door open, and his eyes immediately locked on the man holding you against the wall. Your assaulter – that fucking kid, Jack – had one hand covering your mouth, the other forearm pinning your shoulders to the wall. His knee was between your legs and Joel could see you standing on your tippy toes, trying to pull away as far as possible.
Joel’s hands were itching to get rid of the threat that guy was for you, but first his gaze involuntarily shifted to your face – and his heart clenched painfully when he noticed your terrified expression and tears streaming down your cheeks.
The blinding rage in Joel’s veins almost charred him from the inside out and he felt like he was about to explode from the fury seething inside of him. In two long strides he ran towards Jack and all but threw him off of you, stepping to the side to act as a shield between you and him.
“You just signed your death sentence, kid,” he growled and punched the other man in the face when he tried to get up. You screamed behind him, but Joel ignored it, the need to beat the living daylights out of this little shit almost overwhelming his senses.
“What the fuck is your problem?!” Jack yelled from the floor, holding a hand in front of his face. “You broke me fucking nose, man!”
It was true, the blood was flowing freely from the already swelling nose, but it didn’t feel like enough. Joel had to utilize every fiber of his willpower to keep himself from venting his wrath on this kid. He knew damn well it wouldn’t end well for either of them – Jackson had hard laws when it came to violence.
“You deserve a lot worse,” Joel gritted his teeth and motioned with his head towards the exit. “Now get out.”
“She wanted it!” Jack shouted, as if he hoped that his explanations would make the situation any better. He wiped the blood flowing from his nose, glaring at you angrily. “Stupid bitch,” he snarled, “can’t make up her mind. Didn’t I do enough for you?! I was nice, always helped you–”
“Get the fuck out of here before I break your jaw,” Joel cut in, clenching his fists and taking a step forward. The young fucker seemed to size him up for a couple of seconds, probably wondering if starting a fight was worth it, but eventually spluttered contemptuously.
“Fine,” he snarled, and then looked below Joel’s arm at you. “I wouldn’t want to catch somethin’ from you, either way, if you’re already fucking this old geezer.”
Your face, and also Joel’s, grew hot – but while yours was red from embarrassment and shame, his was burning from barely concealed rage.
“OUT!!” he shouted, his thundering and powerful voice making both you and Jack flinch. His face was twisted in fury and the other man must’ve realized that staying here longer would only mean worse for him, because he scrambled to his feet and ran out without another word.
The front door slammed shut behind him, and for a few seconds a heavy silence hung in the air.
Joel took a steadying breath, trying to restore his cool, but he felt himself shaking from rage. If he didn’t come back in time… if he was a minute late, he didn’t want to think what that bastard would’ve done to you.
Trying to shut down the intrusive thoughts, Joel turned around and knelt by where you were still seated on the ground. He couldn’t will the tension in his body to lessen, and his muscles and tendons were so taut that he thought they were going to snap. But he forced his hands to unclench before he gently cupped your face.
“Did he hurt you?” he asked quietly, his brows knitted in worry. You shook your head, but your eyes were filled with tears, and it felt like something was ripping Joel’s chest apart.
“He pushed me. And I… the glass.”
You lifted your hand and Joel winced when he saw a shard of green glass – from the flower vase which previously stood on the table – embedded in your palm. A trickle of blood was running down your wrist, but he presumed there would be much more once he took it out.
“It’s alright, sweet girl. I’ll take care of it.” I’ll take care of you. “Let’s go to the kitchen so I can patch you up, ‘kay?”
You nodded, letting him pull you to your feet.
Once you made your way there and you instructed him on where some bandages and disinfectant were, Joel gently grabbed your waist and hoisted you up onto the table, seemingly without any problem at all. You blushed when you felt his touch, for a moment forgetting about the pain piercing your palm, but the gravity of what you just experienced crept up on you again soon enough.
Joel noticed your silence as he carefully removed the shard and bandaged your hand. He didn’t want to imagine what exactly happened when he was gone, but it was obvious it shook you quite strongly. So when he saw tears welling in your eyes, he threw all caution to the wind and wrapped his arms tightly around you.
Not one ounce of regret had time to haze his mind over, because you instantly clung to him, too, letting out a shaky exhale. Joel hugged you tightly, letting go of all the tension and fear in his body. He was never this close to you before, and he allowed himself to indulge in the warmth of your body and the feeling of your arms around him, reminding him that you’re okay, that you’re with him now. He breathed in your scent, hiding his nose in the crown of your head and pressing his lips to your hair, hoping to calm you down.
“It’s alright, baby. I’m here, you’re safe now.”
You tensed, but Joel just held you closer, not realizing he said something wrong. He planted a soft kiss on your hairline, sighing when you started moving your hands up and down his back soothingly. Despite standing up, Joel felt relaxed like never before, like he could fall asleep right here and now.
That is, until you spoke up.
“What did you say?”
…shit.
Joel opened his mouth, then closed it almost immediately. His eyes raced wildly across the room, trying to think of what to say, but he didn’t let go of you. There might’ve been a selfish reason behind his inaction, but mostly he didn’t want you to see his flustered face.
“Nothin’,” he answered after a pregnant and rather uncomfortable pause, and cleared his throat. “You don’t wanna… t’was nothin’ important.”
Maybe you really didn’t hear him. It would have saved him a lot of trouble and embarrassment, and probably another two weeks of his life of avoiding you. But judging by the silence in the room, he wasn’t so lucky.
“Did you…” You swallowed before finishing softly, “call me ‘baby’?”
Joel cringed, closing his eyes tightly, and prayed for some higher power to smite him off the surface of the Earth. But again – luck wasn’t on his side.
The silence prolonged, and you finally grew impatient. You pulled away, looking up to scan his face. “Joel?”
“I’m sorry, it… slipped out,” he mumbled, all red and not meeting your eyes. That was a shame, because if he did find the courage to look at you, he would notice a small smile forming on your face as you regarded him.
“So I heard you correctly?” you asked again, and he sighed heavily, running his hand over his face and rubbing his eyes.
“Yes, yes you did. M’really sorry, I wasn’t thinkin’. I just tried to comfort you and– fuck,” he whispered to himself, lowering his hand but still not looking in your direction. “I, I don’t want ya to feel uncomfortable. I’m sorry, I can go…”
“No.” Your uninjured hand shot out and grabbed his shirt before you could process what you were doing. Joel glanced down at your fist clutching the material, and then back up into your wide eyes. “Please, no. Stay.”
His lips parted slightly at your request and unexplained (at least from his perspective) hope filling your gaze. He looked so adorable that you had never wanted to kiss him more than right now.
“Come closer,” you pleaded, barely louder than a whisper.
Joel obliged, letting your hand guide him. You gently pulled him to you, so that he was almost standing between your legs, and your fingers loosened their hold, now smoothing over the material of his shirt.
You took a deep breath and leaned forward, bracing your weight on his chest. Joel looked puzzled by your behavior, but when he realized what you were doing, he stopped you gently by putting his own hand on your shoulder.
“No,” he whispered, his voice full of pain, but steady. “Don’t do that. You… you’re in a state of shock.”
“I know what I want,” you spoke equally quietly, staring at him with nothing but pure genuineness and need in your eyes. “And I want you, Joel.”
“Please, ba–” he cut himself off before he could finish this word. It pained him deeply to reject you, but he knew that if he let you kiss him, you’d regret it later. And that he wouldn’t be able to survive. “I’m sorry, sweet girl, but it wouldn’t be right. I don’t wanna be takin’ advantage of you.”
Your face fell in confusion and disappointment, but you didn’t let him go even when he put a light pressure on your hand.
“You never..” you gulped, searching his face, “thought about it? About… me, in that way?”
Christ, what was he supposed to say to that? He wouldn’t be able to lie to you, not if you kept looking at him with those innocent and full of desire eyes of yours.
“Don’t ask me.” Joel closed his eyes, the muscle in his cheek pulsing when he felt your touch on the side of his face. “Please, don’t ask me.”
“Because I have,” you continued in a sudden rush of courage. “I think about you constantly, and about us. Every time I invite you over or see you in the town working... And I’m only saying all that, because I thought maybe… maybe you felt it, too. I think you do.” Joel didn’t answer, and you looked up at him with determination you didn’t really feel. “Tell me.”
Joel clenched his jaw, exhaling heavily, but didn’t pull away. He weighed the options in his mind while you waited patiently, and finally, his resolve cracked under your hopeful gaze.
“I think about you,” he began slowly, earnestly, “every night. Every fuckin’ night and day, sweetheart.” His voice was raspy, but that drawl of his so soft and delicious to your ears. “But I shouldn’t. You and I both know that.”
He still hasn’t looked your way. You tried to lean to the side to fit in his field of vision, but Joel turned away even more, attempting to take a step back. You grabbed his shirt again before he could do that, and he didn’t fight you.
“Why not?” you whispered, transfixed on his handsome features.
“‘Cause you deserve better. I’m way too old for you,” he answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, like you should know it already. “You have so many admirers who are probably much more fit for you, and it would be… it is so wrong that I’m lettin’ those thoughts linger.”
“I don’t want any of them, though.” Joel finally locked eyes with you, but still seemed conflicted. You slowly let go of his clothes and reached for his hands, then guided them to your cheeks. You saw his throat bob nervously when you placed them there and brushed his knuckles with your thumbs. “Look, it’s hard for me to open up, but… I really like you. Really.”
Joel swallowed heavily, his face contorted in pain – as if your words were wounding not only his soul, but his very flesh. Then the pressure on your cheeks became a little stronger, and he tentatively swiped his thumbs under your eyes in a loving manner. Your heart fluttered like a hummingbird’s wings as he slowly scanned your face for any sign of hesitancy, then let his eyelids drop and pressed his forehead to yours. You lifted your chin slightly, nudging his nose with the tip of yours.
“Call me that again,” you whispered pleadingly. His wooden, earthly scent was enveloping all your senses, making you feel so very calm and safe. You’d gladly lose yourself in him. “Please.”
Joel instantly knew what you meant. His resolve was wavering and his body giving in, but the doubt was still there in his mind. The fear that he was somehow reading you wrong.
“Don’t beg me, sweet girl.” His breath was on your lips, beckoning you even closer. “M’too weak for that.”
“Please,” you repeated more urgently, and when he didn’t move, you turned your head and pressed your lips to the inside of his wrist tenderly. “Joel.”
He cursed softly. It appeared that the tension between you both was getting to him, too, and Joel was losing the battle he fought with himself. He lowered his lips to the edge of your jaw, his pupils blown wide and eyelids heavy, almost as if he was under a spell. You whimpered when he withdrew one of his hands on your cheeks, but the loss was quickly replaced by relief when he moved it to the small of your back, pulling you closer and flush against his body.
“You sure about this?” he murmured lowly, making you shiver against him. His nose traveled along your jaw and the column of your neck, then back up until his lips brushed the shell of your ear. “I don’t want ya to regret it.”
“I won’t,” you promised. “Please, baby.”
Your plea sent a shiver down his spine. Joel couldn’t hold back anymore, didn’t want to. It was clear you wanted him, and he never was a strong enough man to deny you anything.
Your eyes met, and Joel took a second to get his heart under control. You were so beautiful, and your skin so soft under his touch… He tilted your chin up, barely able to comprehend that all of it was really happening, that it was you who put his hands on yourself. And you wanted him to kiss you.
For fuck’s sake, you begged him to.
All the remaining traces of his self-control evaporated in a heartbeat, and he pulled you in, pressing your body closer before bringing his lips to yours, locking them in a soft kiss.
His mouth molded perfectly to yours, causing you to sigh with relief at the gentle caress. You felt heat pooling in your stomach, and you were glad for sitting down because your weak knees would surely buckle under you in different circumstances. The intensity of the kiss gradually grew until it became so heated that you had to grab a fistful of Joel’s hair on the nape of his neck for support.
At one point, Joel pried your lips away, searching your eyes with concern. You worried that he was having second thoughts, but the longer he looked at you, the more his own irises darkened with lust and insatiable hunger, making your face burn like it was on fire. His clear want and the knowledge that you were the cause of it made you feel powerful, but somehow at the same time completely naked under his gaze.
Without any warning, he dived back in, his wide palm enveloping one side of your face while he tangled the other hand in your hair. He tugged on it, probably a little rougher than he intended, eliciting a needy moan from your chest. You instantly felt embarrassed about your response, but when you tried to pull away, Joel practically growled, not letting you turn away.
“S’alright, baby,” he rasped, trailing hot kisses down your neck, making your breath hitch in your throat. “Keep makin’ those pretty sounds for me.”
You felt dizzy. Like he could make you melt from the tone of his voice alone.
Having his lips on yours felt better than you have ever imagined, and so perfect that you never wanted this moment to end. But one thought kept nagging at you, making it harder and harder to focus, and finally after some time Joel softly drew away. He sent you a soft, almost shy smile.
“What is it, sweetheart? Not havin’ second thoughts, I hope?”
It hit you in that moment that it wasn’t the first time he looked at you with so much warmth and affection in his eyes. You just never noticed before that he always looked at you this way.
“No, no,” you hurried to reassure him. “Just something… Something I wanted to do for a while.”
He raised his eyebrows playfully. “Somethin’ other than kissin’ your handsome neighbor?”
You clicked your tongue at his unexpected cockiness.
“Not exactly.” Your answer only made him more intrigued, and you grinned. “Indulge me and take a step back.”
Joel squinted suspiciously, but eventually humored you. You bit your lip, feeling giddy at finally having a chance to do something you thought about every time this infuriatingly handsome man was in your house.
His eyes followed the tip of your tongue when it ran across your bottom lip… and you took this moment to hook your thumbs on his tool belt and yank him forward.
Your lips connected again, though it was far from perfect – your teeth clashed together and your noses collided, causing you both to yelp in small pain and discomfort, but you didn’t let go of him. Your joy from this silliness lasted only a couple of seconds, though, because before long Joel started to laugh uncontrollably.
You huffed and tried to kiss him again, but he withdrew out of your reach, wrapping his arms around your waist with a big, goofy smile.
“Get back here.”
“What the hell was that, sweetheart?”
His eyes crinkled in amusement and you felt a bit foolish from what you just did. You turned your gaze down, but Joel lifted your chin with his fingertip, and you couldn’t help but smile, too, when you saw how happy he looked.
“It looked more romantic in my head,” you murmured with an awkward chuckle. “I actually wanted to do it the first time I saw you with that belt on.”
“S’that so?” Joel asked and kissed you briefly again, this time with a hint of hunger he was keeping at bay until now. “You like seein’ me in it?”
“I really, really do,” you whispered, hiding your face in his chest. “I don’t know why, but it look so fucking hot on you…”
“My dirty baby,” Joel purred into your hair. The bright grin on his face only grew when he heard you groaning in embarrassment. “Gimme a kiss.”
You didn’t move, not wanting to face him, so Joel opted to nuzzle the sensitive skin of your neck with his nose. “You’re adorable, y’know that? Don’t get all shy on me now, babygirl.”
A deep sigh escaped your chest and the tension in your shoulders lessened. Joel smirked into the crook of your neck, still planting soft kisses on your skin. His lower back was starting to ache from the position, but there wasn’t anywhere else he’d rather be.
And then all the discomfort in his body was put in the shade when you moaned quietly, pressing yourself against him more and wrapping your arms around Joel’s neck.
“Do you wanna get back to my room?” you asked after a while, and Joel hummed into your skin, now littered with love bites his lips and teeth left in their wake.
“You want me to fix that shelf of yours?” he teased back, making you snort.
“Just wanna cuddle with you. If that’s okay.” You nuzzled into his neck, and added quietly. “I can still feel his touch on me. And I only wanna feel you.”
Though Joel would be more than okay with that, by the sounds you were making and the look you were giving him, he doubted that’s all you’ll be doing. Still, his back hurt like hell and he almost let out a relieved groan at the thought of laying down.
“If you want me, baby. If you want me, then I’m all yours.”
Not a week has passed, and Joel had to get his toolbox out again – this time to fix your broken bed.
Though now he knew exactly what caused the damage.
#joel miller x reader#joel miller#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#the last of us#joel miller fluff#i played with perspective a bit in this one as you can probably tell#joel miller x you#joel tlou#the last of us fanfiction#joel miller fanfiction
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Never Hold Back
Day 31: Squirting — Lucien x f!reader
Warnings: oral (f receiving), fingering, insecure reader
Word count: 1.099
A/N: we've finally got to the end of Kinktober! This was so much fun, but it was also exhausting ngl. I'm working on new fics and I'm so glad it's not smut bc I seriously need a break from it. I didn't think I'd be able to write a fic for each day when I decided to do this and I have to say I'm quite of myself for making it. Thank you so much to everyone who read/commented/reblogged my silly smutty blurbs and if you've stuck around to read them all, I love you pls let's get married.
based on this suggestion
You didn’t have much experience with sex. Or rather, you did, but the people you had been with could be counted on one hand. And if there was one thing you learned after your first time, it was how to fake an orgasm just before the real one hit you. That way, your partner would relent, sparing you the embarrassment.
But Lucien wasn’t like your previous lovers. He was your mate.
When you arched off the bed and moaned louder than before, he pulled his mouth away from you and watched you with a furrowed brow.
“Why do you do that?”
At first, you didn’t understand what he was talking about, and your insecurities took over. What had you done? Did you have an actual orgasm? No, you would have felt that, and Lucien would have looked more grossed out than concerned.
“Do what?” you asked, trying to keep the tremor from your voice.
Lucien sat up straight and you immediately felt the absence of his head between your thighs. His eyes found yours and the uneasiness etched on his face made you brace yourself for what might be coming.
He was silent for a moment before he said quietly, “If you don’t enjoy what I’m doing, please just tell me.”
Eyes wide, you sat up too. “Why would you think that? Of course I enjoy it, Lu!”
“Then why did you just fake an orgasm?”
“I didn’t—”
“You did it last time too.”
Your breath caught, heat rising to your cheeks until you were sure you looked like a tomato. Unsure how to respond, you looked down at your fidgeting hands.
You always thought you were good at faking, that it looked real enough to not raise suspicions. None of the males you’d been with before had ever noticed. And now that your mate had realized it, you wished the ground would open and swallow you whole.
“Sunshine,” he called softly.
A slender finger hooked under your chin, and then you were looking into his eyes. He didn’t seem upset, which spurred you to finally say something.
“I’m sorry,” you stuttered, and words began pouring out in an incoherent stream. “It’s just… my body. When I come, it does— it’s really gross, so I just… I thought you—”
You stopped abruptly when his thumb moved to cover your lips. He searched your face, his brows still furrowed, before he asked, “What do you mean ‘gross’?”
You shook your head, resisting the urge to look away again, but his gaze was piercing, and his golden eye seemed to see right through you, so eventually you answered, voice just above a whisper.
“I… I tend to squirt.”
You expected disgust, judgment, maybe even rejection—the same reactions you had gotten the few times it happened, the reasons you had started faking.
Instead, Lucien smiled broadly. “You do?”
He sounded so excited that you frowned as you gave him a single nod. His hands traveled down your body, caressing your sides until they rested on your waist. You were still waiting for a rejection, and he probably read it on your face because he gently squeezed you.
“Y/N… did someone tell you it’s gross?” he questioned. “Is that why you say that?”
You blinked. “You don’t think it is?”
As soon as the words left your mouth, Lucien’s posture changed. His back went a bit rigid, and his jaw clenched as he let you go. “Lay back down,” he said, or rather ordered. No soft tone was left in his voice, in his expression.
“Lucien…” you tried, but he cut you off.
“Lay down. I’m going to make you come.”
You did as he asked, though with a touch of hesitation. Lucien was quick to settle between your legs again. When you opened your mouth to try and talk him out of it one last time, he beat you to it.
“I am going to make you come,” he repeated, even more firmly than the first time. And then he was licking a stripe up your folds, his hands holding you open for him to feast on.
You decided to just enjoy it, then. What else were you supposed to do when he flicked his tongue over your clit and gently rolled it between his lips? Your hand shot out to tangle in his fiery hair, and you sucked in a breath, feeling his low chuckle reverberate against your cunt.
He probed your entrance with a finger, and when you squirmed, he pushed it in and curled it, hitting that sweet spot that drew a groan from deep in your throat. And then you lost all sense of time and space as the fingers became two and his mouth latched onto your clit.
The pleasure was rising fast—faster than ever, now that you weren’t worrying about waiting for the perfect moment to fake your orgasm. Yet as you felt it approaching, the thought that maybe you should stop before it was too late lingered at the back of your mind.
“Lucien, I’m… I’m close,” you warned, your voice a breathless murmur.
“Then come for me, sunshine.” He looked up at you through his lashes, and his next words were a low, commanding growl. “Don’t you dare hold it back.”
When he thrust his fingers in deeper and curled them once more, you didn’t hold it back, and after so long without such an intense feeling, you were utterly overwhelmed by it. A loud cry broke free from you as your whole body shook while you squirted all over Lucien’s fingers and chin. He held you firm, still working you until you went limp, spent and panting. Only then did he pull back, and you blushed at the sight of his face covered in your release.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered.
Lucien only smiled. “Don’t be. Don’t ever apologize for it.”
He climbed up your body, and you wrapped your arms around his neck out of instinct. As he kissed you, you could taste yourself on his lips and tongue. You weren’t sure how you felt about it.
“It was amazing, sunshine,” he murmured against your lips. “Hot, even.”
His words warmed your heart and a bit of the shame you had grown accustomed to began to melt away. If Lucien, your mate, found it hot… then maybe it wasn’t actually that bad after all.
“And to think that you've denied yourself so many orgasms because of it…” he went on. A smirk blossomed on his lips and a mischievous glint sparked in his russet eye. “Let me remedy that.”
General taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @aaahhh0127 @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings
Kinktober taglist: @thyellablackk @p1nkfluffysocks @maddieboo8 @a-courtof-azriel @whataenginerd @loviseamms @chaconnelatte @okaytrashpanda @scarsandallaz @velarisdusk @olive-main @krispypotato @scorpioriesling @fourthwing4ever @asaucecoveredsomething
#kinktober 2024#lucien#lucien acotar#lucien smut#lucien x reader#lucien x you#lucien fic#acotar#acotar x reader#acotar smut#acotar fanfic#a court of thorns and roses#sjm#sarah j maas#smut#fanfiction#kinktober
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Cool | Jack Hughes
summary: after your breakup with jack, you thought your EP release party would be dreadful- especially after your single about him is the biggest hit. what happens when you see him at the party and all past feelings come rushing back.
3.8k
warnings: SFW! ex! jack | singer! reader | angst | kissing | mentions of cheating + insecurities | second chance romance | suggestive dialogue and themes |
a/n: based off this request! hope you enjoy what I’ve done with your idea! also I used sabrina for my little album mock ups, so that’s that 🤍
link to masterlist
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when you and jack met, it was anything but glamorous.
working in music was something you'd always wanted to pursue, but the journey of getting into the music industry isn't always easy. sending demo after demo to different record companies was coming up short, and as a last resort, you'd decided to post a video showcasing your talents on tiktok.
it blew up - the cover of one direction's night changes was heard on every video you'd scroll by. people were using your audio as background noise for there own videos, continuing to further your success.
nessa barrett and her team had reached out not longer after your up-roaring success, asking if you'd like to be featured on one of her songs on her upcoming album. nessa had expressed her love for your style of singing and iceralll vibe, and thought you'd be the perfect final piece in her creation. you'd obviously agreed.
the day of recording was an eventful one. not being able to fly out to LA to record, nessa's team arranged a studio session in new jersey where you lived and because they'd put so much effort in for you - you didn't want to disappoint them.
but the recording session wasn't the craziest part of your day - the journey home was. your mom had called you, frantically trying to plan your younger sisters 21st birthday while you exited the recording studio. trying to calm your mother down, insisting that 5 different balloon colours was too many (especially when your sister only liked pink), all while digging through your tote in search of your car keys, left you rather distracted.
you’re rudely brought back to the reality of the busy sidewalks around you, when you walk into something hard. you phone slips out of your hand on impact, falling to the icy ground below. just as that happens, the person you'd inevitably ran into, spills their drink on you - hot chocolate stinging your chest through your white hoodie.
"shit, i'm so sorry." the smooth voice is instantly spewing apologies, and large, slightly calloused hands reach out and hover over your coat covered arms.
finally, you look away from the hot chocolate dripping off you, standing the white snow, and meet the deep blue eyes in front of you. you dance over his soft, round features - following the littering of freckles and moles on his face.
his brows are furrowed in worry, deep gaze trained on you as he attempts to asses you for injuries - darting between the hot chocolate stain and your rosy cheeks.
you shake your head slightly, "no, it's okay. I should've watched where I was going."
"same - my brother and teammates were heckling me about my choice of hot drink - ironically enough, I wasn't looking in your direction. I'm sorry again." he swallows nervously, running a sticky, hot chocolate covered hand through his brown hair.
you notice then, off the the side against one of the brick buildings lining the streets, a small group of guys. they're moving between shooting you both amused looks, and hiding their embarrassed grins behind there hands. you think that must be the brother and teammates in question.
"don't apologize, it was an accident." you sigh gently, forcing a somewhat happy smile on your face. although you're not actually mad at this stranger, it was still an inconvenience and you're glad this happened after your studio session - not before.
you lean down to. collect your cellphone and see that your mom is still on the line. the chances of her still blabbing on about party supplies and not noticing your absence is very high. "I'm y/n."
the ghost of a smile rests upon his lips, "jack - and again, so sorry-"
"yo, hughesy," one of the teammates call, one hand cupped around his mouth to further echo his voice. "we should probably go, coach wants us at the meeting in 15 minutes." he sounds foreign, but if it wasn't for the lingering accent you'd have no idea.
"can I at least get your number? I want to buy you a new sweater." jack insists, already digging out his phone from his black, puffy coat pocket.
you smile, "you really don't need to."
his brow quirks up in a playful manner, and his smirk is almost teasing. "so I can't have your number?"
you giggle gently and start reciting your 7 digit code to jack - the warm, sticky chocolate stain covering your front long forgotten about as you are consumed by the handsome stranger.
like promised, jack had bought you a new white sweater from aritzia - a much more expensive, better quality sweater than your original adidas one.
you and jack had very quickly become close, and started dating only a month after your run in outside the studio. you shared your aspiring music career, and your hopes moving forward in the industry. jack had also told you about his career, and how hockey pretty much took up all his time and energy. but you didn't mind it, because you new your boyfriend was following his hopes and passions - just as you are.
what you weren't expecting was the specific fame that came with jack being in the nhl. in some ways, you weren't shocked that you boyfriend was one of the most sought out nhl player by women, because you knew he was attractive, young and talented - but you were surprised with just how intense these women can be and how you were feeling about it all.
you were pretty good and working through any jealous feelings with jack, and he'd always reassure you that the comments, dms and videos were just stupid talk - rumours.
and you'd always believe him - you loved him and trusted him despite everything and everyone else rooting against you. it wasn't until a year after dating and being in love with jack, that you reached an unseen breaking point - the hurt and jealousy coming to a hill top, teetering on the edge of falling away.
you watch him wordlessly, stewing in your own emotions- a mixture of jealousy and anger very prevalent in your demeanour.
jack scrolls through your dm messages just as quiet as you, his soft brows pulled together tightly to create two deep frown marks. he looks up at you again, because yes, this is the third time he's read though the messages on your phone. "nothing happened, y/n. these messages are just trying to get you," he pauses, waving his hand frantically in your direction, "like this."
you scoff, "so i'm overreacting?"
"no," he huffs, "you're not but I don't understand why you're not believing me."
"jack...multiple people have messaged me and said they saw you and your ex spending time with one another at the bar! some even said you two were dancing together! this isn't just one person, it's 10."
"yeah 10 people who saw my ex and I in the same location and immediately started talking about it to you - trying to convince you that something was going on!"
when jack left for his week long road trip with the devils to the west coast, you'd never would of expected to it end up like this. after a devils win, the boys had gone to one of the local bars to have some greasy food and a beer - let loose for one night, regardless of teaming staff's recommendations. oddly enough, one of jacks ex-girlfriends had moved out to LA to finish her degree, and so happened to be at the same bar as your boyfriend and his teammates.
your instagram dms flooded. multiple people claiming they saw them talking, and dancing. one message even said she caught them kissing off towards the back of the bar.
you just snapped.
it was too much of a coincidence and too many witnesses for you to just 'trust him'.
"don't you trust me?" jack questions, locking your phone and setting it on his kitchen island. the tv from luke's room is louder than it was when you first got to the brothers' apartment - probably trying to block out the argument.
you feel yourself getting emotional. you eyes start to blur with tears, and you blink desperately to try and clear your vision. "I did! I do! it's just," you pause, taking a shaky breath. "this is too much. I can't keep pretending all this attention isn't killing me...I can't keep just hoping it's all rumours. I love you but I can't keep sharing you with the world and feeling like the laughing stock on social media."
"then don't share me!" he stresses, taking a quick step towards you. jack almost reaches out to touch you, but he decides against it, not wanting to push you away any further. "please, just don't believe them...believe me. nothing happened-"
"there's pictures jack." you whisper. tears begin to fall from your glossy coated eyes, falling down your flushed cheeks.
"picture of us just talking, barley talking if anything-"
"yeah but you didn't even tell me- social media did."
jack pauses, his eyes full of a swimming pool of emotions as looks down at you. he doesn't have an excuse, because you're right - he didn't tell you.
even though pictures only captured your boyfriend and his ex talking, nothing more, how could you believe his words and broken promises when he couldn't even be honest about a so called innocent talk.
you sniffle, "I need space."
"okay," he nods, "I can drive you home and then tomorrow we can talk again, okay? we can get breakfast at the cafe you really like and just figure this all out."
"no," you correct, "I need space from us."
"what?"
"I can't do this anymore - the rumours, the comments and the complete disregard for my feelings. I just need to figure it all out...alone."
with your new heartbreak came a whole new lyrical world. you put your uncertainty, jealousy, anger, and sadness onto paper - which birthed your very first single on your small EP.
releasing your song tilted cool immediately had fans speculating your and jack's relationship. the lyrics hide nothing about the rumors circulating around the hockey community, and once you and jack stopped posting together and not spotted with one another - your break-up was confirmed to the world.
your EP, titled sucker, was a collection of four, self-written tracks that perfectly captured the emotions you'd gone through (and still dealing with) in the break-up with jack.
and sucker in its fullness and greatness, was being released tonight. your newly appointed manager through your record company, insisted throwing a release party for you and the already overwhelming successes of your single, cool, and the upcoming EP.
so here you stood, in your frilly pink dress that perfectly matched the colour of one of three vinyl variants - happily greeting friends, musicians, and fans as they pulled into the event hall. the space was covered in astonishing, expensive looking decorations to bring the atmosphere to life. streamers, shiny balloons, multi-coloured lights, and many more beautiful items.
you take a sip out of your fourth champagne flute, trying to keep your excitement alive, while trying to keep your earlier nerves at bay. you wanted your peers and fans to love your art, and you wanted them to feel proud.
you swallow the bitter drink, looking away from the crowded room and over to the large procedure screen against one of the wallpapered walls. half and hour until midnight - thirty minutes until the world would here your most precious emotions. in thirty minutes the judgment would start, and the hate....in thirty minutes there'd be no more secrets.
you sigh gently, looking through the crowd. as per request, everyone was dressed in either pale blue, cream or baby pink, matching each album variant. it makes the whole ordeal feel even more real, and that sends the flutter of butterflies in your stomach loose - your body going numb and warm.
"y/n," a familiar voice calls your name, and instantly your stomach feels funny. you look over towards the source of the greeley voice, and are meet with the tall figure of luke hughes. he's smiling widely, the same smile you'd see when he actually finds something funny or when something brought him joy, and he's wearing the pale peach colour of your record - a nice, button up with appropriate, matching bottoms.
you force yourself to smile back, pushing away any prior emotion and worry. "luke, hey." the tallest hughes brother embraces you in a friendly way, congratulating you on the success of your career.
you separate, and instantly, your smile falters. behind his brother, stands jack. he looks just as uncertain as you feel, looking at you with a mixture of sadness and hope. his tanned, calloused hands are shoved into his dress pants awkwardly, bunching up the hem of his baby blue shirt. the colour brings out his eyes, making the usual ocean blue look brighter.
he clears his throat, "hey, congratulations."
you're almost in shock, and you can't look away from the man infront of you. before you realize, luke has slipped away from you both, your once buffer now nosying around the food table - shoving cheese and crackers into his mouth.
you blink. "jack, what are you doing here?" you're not angry, and you certainly don't sound it. your tone is very soft, bordering on emotional- your overwhelming internal energy now presenting on the outside.
"I always said I'd show my support for you - no matter the circumstances. I'm so proud of you, y/n."
you say his name again, an almost warning tone lacing your words. you can't do this with him, especially tonight on top of all the other thousands thoughts running through your mind. "thank you for the support, jack but i'm not sure what you want me to do here."
his brows furrow, "I don't want you to do anything except celebrate yourself, but I do think we need to talk-"
your manager comes skipping over, guiding you away from your ex-boyfriend as she explains what you'll be doing next. with the music releasing in the next few minutes, she's asking for you to make a brief speech about the night and the upcoming EP.
you shoot jack an unapologetic look over your shoulder, rounding into the grand living space of the rented extravagant house.
jack follows slowly behind, and just as you're walking onto the stage, right infront of the countdown display, he settles near the back of the room, watching you with a guilty expression. he shouldn't of said anything to you, especially on your special night - especially when he can see how overwhelmed you are.
you tap gently on the microphone, checking the sound. the echoing noise grabs the busy crowds attention, the once chatty laughter coming to a slow halt. you smile warmly, "hi, everyone."
people smile and clap excitedly, some people even cheering at your greeting. your smile doesn't falter, and neither do your nervous butterflies. your wrong your hands out nervously, a typical nervous habit you've always done. "thank you all so much for coming out here and showing your love and support for me and my career. I'm so overwhelmed with joy at the thought of my small piece of art being heard by all of you and I can only hope that you'll love and enjoy the three new songs as much as cool."
through the bright lights, familiar and unfamiliar faces, your gaze finds jack. the sight of him as your nerves changing, and somehow you feel yourself become calm under his gaze. you clear your throat, "with less than three minutes to go, as just want to say that all these songs are so personal and raw with emotion and I just want to remind anybody who can relate to these lyrics and music that it's okay to feel overwhelmed, or angry, or jealous, even when you know there's no reason to feel that way."
once again, you find jack at the back of the room. his face hasn't changed, and you can't quite read the expression he's showing. without looking away from him, you continue. "finally, I want to thank you for believing in me and always supporting me. from tiktok, to my first feature and single - now my EP. thank you for everything, I love you."
you blink, finally tearing your gaze away. "all of you! get ready, because these are the emotional, up and downs of sucker!"
the crowd roars in excitement, counting down the last minute before the tracks will be shared. you slip off the stage, forcing smiles to the crowd as you slip through bodies and crowds of people, trying to get out of the bustling, loud and overwhelming room.
everyone is unaware of your motives, and because everyone is gathered in the same room, it makes your space easier. your shoes echo in the empty hallway, heels clicking up the grand staircase as you ascend upstairs.
you find an empty, unlocked room and slip inside quickly. it's a cleaning closet, and now you can understand why there's no lock on the door. it smells strongly of lysol and clorox, but the strong smells provides a nice distraction from your frantic breathing.
you move further into the room, pressing your back to one of the cool, metal shelving units. it was all feeling like too much - the party, the EP releasing, seeing jack....you can feel your stomach turn just at the back and forth motion from the thoughts in your brain. you close your eyes, taking a deep breath.
suddenly, the sound of your opening track gets louder, turning from muffled vibrations into full, coherent sounds. your eyes snap open, just as jack enters the room with you.
your chest tightens warmly, and the heartbroken girlfriend in you desperately wants to reach out and let jack pull you into his embrace- providing his usual calming comfort.
jack shuts the door behind himself, letting the silence once again consume the small cleaning closet. his cheeks look rosy in the dim light, and his hair is pushed back like he's been running his hand through it over and over.
“are you okay?” he asks gently, taking a step closer to you.
“no, jack,” you huff through disbelieved laughter. “i'm so confused and overwhelmed and I don't know why you're actually here. do you want an apology from me? is that why you want to talk?”
“no,” he replies, “I want to talk because I was wrong.”
your brows furrow and your confusion is evident. “what do you mean?”
jack takes another step towards you, “I shouldn't have lied to you and I immediately should've told you that I saw my ex and had a brief conversation with her - even though that was the extent of it. I made myself look guilty and because of that, I made you feel like you couldn't trust me.”
he continues, eyes swimming with emotions as he keeps his gaze locked on you. “all your feelings about what happened are absolutely valid and i'm sorry for being the cause of your pain. that song, cool - I know it's about me and when I heard it, it solidified how badly I screwed up.”
you frown uncertainly. “why now? why are you saying all this now?”
“because the guilt of it all is eating me alive. I couldn't go an hour longer with you thinking that I would ever cheat on you. even though I talked to my ex for only that minute in LA, I shouldn't have been so sketchy about the situation. I should've reassured you, and listened to your concerns and I should've told you as soon as it happened - end of story.”
he pauses, asserting your face of emotions. jack sees the way your eyes have glossed over, but your shoulders are still broad - indicating that you’re upset, but not uncomfortable. you’re still here, listening to his apology. with that, he continues. “you don't need to forgive me, and you don't even need to say anything, but I just wanted you to know that i'm sorry for how I handled the situation that I very easily could've fixed. I love you….so much and i'm so proud of you and I don’t want you to think anything but that.”
you blink and look away from him, sniffling away any lingering emotion. hearing jacks apology has solidified so much for you and the situation a few weeks prior. the second track on your EP is vibrating through the floor, the bass lined chorus tickling the soles of your feet through your heels. softly, you set your gaze back on jack - who’s soft, guilty expression hasn’t changed.
“I agree, you should’ve mentioned the situation with your ex before I found out through social media, and you telling me that you recognize how that made me feel and how it made you look, has me feeling so much relief.” you take a shaky inhale, “your apology means so much to me because I love you and I should’ve truly expressed how I was feeling about everything, instead of arguing, deflecting and shutting down. I trust you and I always have but I was feeling angry, and jealous about the slinky feeling of it all.”
“you still love me?” he breathes shakily, a ghost of a smile beginning to pull at his mouth.
you nod, your own bright smile gracing your face - shining through the dim, bleach scented closet. “I love you.”
jack releases a visible sigh of relief, and he closes the gap between you in favour of gently taking whole of your warm face, softly caressing your plump cheeks affectionately. you smile as jacks thumb subconsciously runs under your lash line, collecting any tears before they can fall and ruin your makeup - something you’d complained about often.
“I love you.” jack repeats, his words a breathless whisper as he leans down. his nose nudges yours once affectionately, before slotting next to yours comfortably. then, thankfully, jack presses his lips to yours in a much missed kiss.
you don’t regret the raw, jealous and angry emotions you’d put into your new EP - all those emotions being directed at jack and the miscommunicated situation. you’re proud and excited to help others going through the same heartbreak as you did.
and with jack here now, kissing you like he’s done a thousand times, you’re looking forward to the blissing relationship to return, as well as the amazing career ahead of both of you.
you can’t wait for the love songs you’ll create - all because of jack.
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
a/n okay I hope this was okay! I didn’t edit it because i’m a lil lazy (whoops) but the idea was fun and cute! also when I was writing I didn’t want to be too on the nose with the song or lyrics of cool, so I did the best I could:) also I added visual links for the colour and outfits of the reader, luke and jack!
#🤍⊹˚₊ cute and hughesy fic#hockey imagine#nhl imagine#hockey#nhl x reader#nhl fic#nhl fanfiction#nhl#nhl hockey#jack hughes imagine#jack hughes fanfiction#jack hughes fic#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes#new jersey devils imagine
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Evening Mr. Flansburgh!
I am an aspiring musician! I really want to create my own songs, but since I'm an absolute beginner starting from the ground up, I am soul-crushingly daunted by which skill I should focus on learning first, especially with the amount of resources available to me online (Singing? Lyric writing? Learning a particular instrument? Mixing? Music Theory? etc).
Do you remember what skill(s) you focused on doing first when you were just getting into music, or have any recommendations about the order to do then in?
Much appreciated!
JF: reflecting on it, my experience was extremely organic, slow-evolving and combined so many of my interests and obsessions I am not sure it is necessarily that universal. (For instance I was kinda obsessed with recorded sound before I started writing and recording songs on a tape recorder, which I did for a couple of YEARS before I ever played in front of another human being). So I came to writing songs with some extra skills that actually facilitated my earliest efforts.
An art history professor of mine said "Art is foisting your obsessions on the world" and I think he was right. Another art professor of mine said if you embark on a dozen creative projects, the odds of creating an inspired one greatly increases over simply working on one. I think this is very good advice, and is echoed by a lot of folks writing about the nature of creativity.
If you can't play chords, or move your hands around a keyboard or a fretboard fast enough to play a chord progression, saddle up to a screen with a movie and practice scales so your fingers get stronger. Do it everyday for some time. Then practice toggling back and forth between two chords as quickly as possible. Get a metronome. You know why!
Yes, a song is exactly the confected thing your mentioned in your request--it's a lyric, a melody, a progression, a beat, an evolving musical notion. But those parts are often created at separate times and simply smushed together. It doesn't have to be done in one go, and if the whole enterprise seems odd, or your skill set is underdeveloped in one way or another, assembling a song from the various moving elements might be an easier way to approach it.
(also a couple of days ago someone was asking about singing and I pointed at a few ideas there--essentially taking advantage of these free online vocal warm up videos)
I think you should gather a small clutch of tools--a tape recorder or a DAW that is simple enough to master quickly--there are multitrack recording apps that you can install on your phone that are intuitive. A couple of instruments-a guitar or keyboard, maybe an auto harp.
Find a place to work where you can make noise and not be heard.
I think you should start writing in a physical notebook where you can write down your ideas and revisit them. I wouldn't do it on a computer. It's slow writing, and the screen just creates distractions.
Write a bunch of lyrics without trying to write music: Make one about you but write it like it's about someone else, one about someone else's experience but sing it first person, write one about a group of people. Be positive. Be negative. Be regretful. Be optimistic. Express anger. Be as extreme as you can stand. Experiment in writing in every mode you can think of. Here somebody would write "express your own ideas", but ALL of your ideas will be your own! You are making choices based on musical notions that inspired you, but what comes out of you will almost certainly be different enough, and if it's too close to something else, shimmy it around so it isn't distracting! Write a few chord progressions. (A two chord progression that just sounds interesting going back and forth. A four chord progression. Make a beat, or find a beat online, and write a bass line or just a sequence of single notes on a keyboard or guitar to make a pleasant, evolving line. And see if you can write a "song" or two with a two or four chord verse, and a chorus that is a different chord progression.) Write it down and revisit it! Record it slow. You might want to speed it up later when it's "under your fingers."
Pretty soon you will have all the component of what you need to put lyrics to music. You can also try just singing lyrics over a beat, and then figure out the chords underneath AFTER you have a notion of a melody.
That's enough free advice. Go write some songs!
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More Simon X Single mom!Reader💕🌙
Based on this drabble😚
wc: 1.1k
You're so, painfully reluctant to ask Simon for help. He offers, frequently, to help you get bedded in to your small flat, which only now, finally free from the clutches of your desperation, do you understand why it was so cheap. The first time he comes over for dinner he notes the way your kitchen faucet takes ages to put out hot water, and honestly, it took a fair bit of blindly tapping (smacking) random pipes to get any water at all. He seems to take issue with not only the lack of amenities that could help you get settled, but also the fact that the few basics that you do have access to don't work. You're a single mom, with a three year old daughter, and his sense of justice has always been at war with his longing search for peace and isolation.
Simon doesn't have much to do when he's not deployed, Price putting him on some kind of mandatory break after the last mission went south, as did his mental health. Because of said lack of hobbies, work and education, Simon finds himself doing literally whatever he can think of to occupy his mind, to forget about what happened in October - if that means helping you string a wreath on the front of your apartment door and lugging a christmas tree up the stairs for you, that's what he'll do. You'll be the first to admit that you're cash poor - buying this house ate up the majority of your savings, and the rest you're currently blowing through supporting your daughter whilst also trying to get a job, very contradictory to the fact that you're also trying to lay low.
The man that lives next door to you is no fool, not as blind and imperceptive as you wish he'd be. You see the way his eyes occaionally shoot to the fading tan line on your left ring finger and the small, raised scar on your bicep. Occasionally, he himself wishes that he wouldn't see the bags under your eyes or the way you clutch onto your daughter like she'll be ripped away from you - maybe then he wouldn't feel such a sense of duty to you. Maybe he wouldn't lie awake at night thinking of the fact that he's spent his life plagued by gunfire to protect innocent women and children, and now faced with the people he vowed to lay down his life for, all he can do is offer to fix your blocked hot water pipe.
So, when you stand on his doorstep, sniffling down fat tears threatening to spill, apologising profusley when you look up to see his confused expression, he can't help but to engulf you, and your wailing daughter at your hip, into what he can only hope is a comforting embrace. "Y' a'right? Whats goin' on?" He murmurs, a hint of panic in his voice. Simon knows the feeling of your past coming back to haunt you all too well.
"I'm sorry I just - the oven is broken, and I need to make her dinner and bath her and put her down to bed -" Is all you can manage before you're hiccuping into the hand not supporting your equally as distraught baby girl.
For a second he just stops, his brain short circuits as he struggles to comprehend the fact that you're coming to him for help. He can't understand the way you lay your soul bare before him, not when he's so distant, so intimidating, and you're oh so soft, lovely as a morning songbird and as warm as sun soaked sand.
"Would you mind looking at it?" Even you recognise how pathetic you sound, standing here practically grovelling at your neighbours door, but apparently it works when he's guiding you back to the front door you stupidly left open in your panic, pulling out a kitchen chair and easing you down as you sit between utter misery and the panic which filled your lungs like a puncture in a life raft when one little part of your routine you'd become so reliant on fell out of place.
"Gas's out." He tells you softly, like any more bad news might make you shatter completely, and the thought of delivering that blow makes him feel physically sick. "Right - Right, no gas." You murmur, brain whirring at a million miles a second in order to work out what to do next.
"You could use my oven? I'll call the gas company in the morning and have them install a new bottle."
His words make you stop, processing his offer, his generosity, the generosity of a man who's never once been cruel or rough or mean to you, and you give a little grateful nod, cooing to your daughter about how you're going on an adventure to Simon's place. The way he scoops her up so that you can stuff a bag with all of the things you need to make dinner, bouncing her on his hip to stop her wailing makes your insides warm in an unfamiliar way, one that you promptly shake off as you follow him across the threshold of his undecorated apartment, trying not to stare at your surroundings as you're guided to a kitchen that you're sure is far more functional than your own.
The way Simon doesn't have any cartoon channels on his TV, so he grabs his laptop instead, plopping your daughter down on the couch with a blanket around her shoulders and some kind of kids show playing on the screen makes you ache, and you can't imagine how a man with no kids of his own could be so good with yours. There's a softness to him despite his physical body being comprised of muscle and sinew and scars, his soul is gentle. He's gentle with you, and he's gentle with your daughter, and that's all that you can ask for.
You make enough dinner for the three of you, mostly to thank Simon for his hospitality, but also because you're starving and the meat needs eating. When you ask where the cutlery is, he gives a little chuckle, grabbing out two sets for you and him, as well as your daughter's little blue Peter Rabbit spoon and tray. He helps you dish up dinner, and when you go to sit at the table, he steers you into the lounge.
"You're not worried about food on the couch?" You squeak in utter confusion, to which he gives a laugh and plops down on one end, placing your daughters tray before her where she sits in the middle of the two of you, happily scarfing down her dinner and watching whatever Simon could find on such short notice.
When you inevitably fall asleep on his couch, your daughter doing the same, Simon sets a blanket over the two of you before going into the kitchen to call the gas company, putting down his card details to pay for the new bottle. He's happy to cough up fifty quid that he's sure you don't have if it means not seeing his girls cry again.
#cod mwii#cod mw2#tf 141#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#Simon ghost Riley x f!reader#Simon ghost Riley x yn#Simon Riley x reader#simon riley x f!reader#Simon Riley x yn#Simon riley#ghost x reader#ghost x f!reader#ghost x y/n#ghost simon riley#ghost mw2#simon riley x you#ghost cod#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x y/n#simon riley cod#ghost call of duty#cod ghost#cod#cod simon riley#ghost#ghost riley#call of duty#Single mom!reader x Simon Riley
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