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party-hearses · 1 year

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i am a nightmare, you are a miracle // 3

do i get callous, or do i stay tender

series masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

pairing: joel x ofc!reader, ex!tommy x ofc!reader (NO USE OF Y/N)

rating: explicit, MDNI 18+

word count: 8k

chapter summary: the boundaries of your new relationship with joel are explored.

chapter warnings/tags: no outbreak AU, soft!joel, age gap, alcohol, language, characters eating food, alfred hitchcock, allusions to verbal/mental abuse (not joel), dry humping (i guess?). let me know if I’m forgetting anything!

a/n: this feels very ‘slice of life’, but it’s important to me, dammit! I love each and every one of you (yes, you!) who read, comment, and reblog. this fic is my baby, and every interaction means the world to me. @nostalxgic beta’d for me, because she’s the best human in the world and I love her to pieces.

comments and reblogs are appreciated! support your creators!

There was, Joel knows, a depth to the things you had shared with him. He just doesn’t know how to piece them together.

You had led him, a proverbial blindfold over his eyes, to the darkest recesses of your psyche. Allowed him to graze those things with his fingers. Not to grasp, never to grasp, but to ghost the ridges of his rough digits against the truths they contained. Visceral and unrefined, flexing without giving, beneath his prodding touch. A reluctant invitation.

He had wanted to claw his way in. He had wanted to rip you apart, to gorge himself on your suffering. To lick your velvet bones and make his home inside your ribcage. Half heaven, half hell.

Instead, he finds himself turning your words over in his head again and again, whiskey a thick smoke on his tongue. The television is still on in the background, the light flickering across the angles of the room, casting everything in jagged shadow.

Frustration curls tight in the pit of his stomach. Understanding feels just out of reach — as if the words you had spoken had been in secret tongues. If only he could decode it.

It will take time, he knows, to learn your language. To speak the complexities, to articulate the syntax. To appreciate the nuances from the inside, wrap his tongue around the letters. It will be an exercise in patience, he is sure, but one that he will commit himself to. He hungers to be fluent in reading and speaking you, to savor the delicate flavors of your dialect.

You, the unknowable creature asleep just down the hallway. That his hands had been on; that had made his cock twitch and ache; that had looked at him with those wet, pleading eyes, desperate to be known.

He rolls the wrist that holds his whiskey glass in a circular motion, eyeing the contents intently.

Asking you to stay in his home was a calculated risk. It had been when he’d first done it, and it remains to be the longer you stay. Tommy’s involvement — even in the capacity of ‘ex boyfriend’ — makes things complicated, and Joel knows that those things will border on volatile once he finds out where you are.

Not if, but when.

And truly, Joel doesn’t know what he’ll do when that happens. He hasn’t thought that far ahead, his vision too clouded with you, you, you.

He had known, since the first time you stood in his kitchen, a case of Shiner in your small hands, that the hot knife of devotion he felt when your eyes met his would eventually destroy him. Inevitability twisting its hands into his gut, whispering in his ear to prepare for his own eventual decimation. Lamb, meet slaughter, it said.

He’d let Tommy beat the shit out of him, he thinks, if it keeps you in his proximity.

The acute awareness of it had caught him off guard. Mutual, useless damage — two unfillable voids recognizing one another from across the room. A collision of fire and the ocean floor.

You, in a little black tank top and jean shorts, the tender flesh of your thigh peeking out just below the hem. Shoulders bare, warmed from the afternoon sunlight, skin aglow. It took strength he didn’t know he possessed to not sink his teeth into you right then and there. Lick up the slender column of your neck. Feast.

Tommy, grinning and oblivious as all fuck to the cosmic shift taking place two feet away from him.

Joel wanting to slug the smugness off his younger brother’s face. He knows Tommy — knows him always as a collector of people, of experiences. Not handling things — beautiful, fragile things — with the care they ought to be handled with. Leapfrogging from one thing to the next, nothing but ruin in his wake.

And oh, how Joel wanted to ruin you — but not in the way he knew Tommy would.

Your words to him tonight make his skin itch with that same recognition. That same inevitability. Asking you to stay meant there was no going back — that you would either let him swallow you whole, or he’d die trying to.

Throwing his head back to drain the glass, he savors the burn of the liquor sliding down his throat before flipping the television off and rising from the couch. Retracing his footsteps past your room, a dull throb settles again between his thighs at the thought of your body pressed against his.

It wouldn’t be difficult, he thinks, to open your door and take. He knows you because he knows himself, and what little restraint he has left is stretched thin.

But he will be patient, because it is you. Because he knows how this ends. Because he wants you to want it, too. To need it like he does. To reveal yourself to him in your own time, fragment by fragment. To recognize the inevitability.

And so he closes the door to his bedroom, himself on the wrong side of it, knowing that that is what a better man would do. And like a better man should, he falls asleep to images of your supple skin rippling beneath him, your mouth open and wanting.

You are unknowable, but you have never been a stranger.

You’re still in your dress when you wake up the next morning.

The hem is bunched up around your waist, your panties on display for the four walls of the empty bedroom. The slippery material clings to you, flesh slick with sweat, in a significantly less flattering way than it did last night.

Everything about you is less flattering than it was last night — the shimmer and sugar of it all worn off in the sweltering light of midmorning.

With a groan, you roll onto your back, the hard edges of your phone cutting into the flesh of your hip beneath you. You can’t bring yourself to look at it, to relive the previous twelve hours of…well, everything. Hands and drinks and tongues and flesh and desire and Joel’s voice.

Something else shifts into focus from behind the hazy veil — Joel carrying you to bed. Half-asleep and just on the other side of drunk, drippingly saturnine and pathetic. The recollection of it makes your chest pinch; the most recent admission into the museum of your naiveté.

You scrub your hand across your eyes, thick black flakes of mascara crumbling off your lashes and landing on your cheeks, chalky streaks of it painted across your knuckles. A strange laugh bubbles up in your throat — you can’t even imagine how wrecked you look.

Sharp hesitancy crests your lungs, tempts you to curl up further into the blazing bedsheets, to avoid. To shrink back into yourself. You raise a hand to your still-swollen lips, delicately pressing your fingertips into their fullness, the memory of Peter’s mouth slotted over yours replaying behind your eyelids.

You wish you had been drunk enough to forget that part of the night — but only that part.

Ava’s fingers interlocked with your own, the holographic sheen of her love wrapping around you, the way all of your pain had spilled out into her waiting hands on the dancefloor. Her magic had dug its tendrils into the soft muscle of your heart, her dreamy voice in your ear an incantation: I have the best feeling about you staying with Joel.

It was those things that you never wanted to forget.

And Joel — Joel. The way he had angled his body towards you, had been so attuned to your words. The consideration in his face as he absorbed them all, brows knitted in concentration. The restless twitch of his fingers.

Him sliding his hands beneath your body, pulling you close to his chest.

Everything had poured out of you so naturally, without any of the apprehension or anxiety you’d come to call companion. The sutures you had sewn years and years ago had been neatly, delicately, untied by Joel’s nimble fingers, in a way that you don’t even think he understood. And it took almost nothing.

Like something magic.

Fire crawls across your already heated skin, not so much a realization but a possibility.

It’s the only reason you get up, and peel your dress off of your sticky body, and let the cold water of the shower chill you. Your lungs open up, the buzzing of your nerves quieting under the stream.

Joel hears the quiet patter of your bare feet on the hardwood before he sees you. The beating of his heart matches the measured pace of your steps, both quickening as the distance between you closes.

He glances sideways, pulse hammering when you finally enter his line of vision. The wet ropes of your hair cling to your neck, dripping down the fabric of your threadbare t-shirt. There’s something so cozy about it, a significant intimacy that comes with knowing you’re just out of the shower.

It’s vulnerable in a way that he’s all too cognizant of.

“Hey.”

Your voice is sweet, if not apprehensive. Testing the waters. You gently pop a hip into the lip of the kitchen counter, next to the full, still-steaming coffee pot. Joel is situated at the stove, pan of something resembling food in front of him, his own mug clutched in his left hand.

“How ya feelin’, champ?” There’s a crooked smile on his face, one that disappears behind the curve of his mug as he brings it to his mouth.

You laugh, a gentle sigh of a laugh — a laugh that invigorates his blood more than the coffee does.

“I’m actually okay. Y’know, considering.” You tip your head to the side, watching as he stirs whatever it is in the pan. A grin tugs at the corners of your mouth, seeing him cook. It’s endearing, being allowed a peek into his life.

The way his cheeks round out tell you that he’s still got the same small smile painted on his face, despite the way it’s hidden.

“Mind if I have some?” You gesture with a flick of your chin to his coffee, clocking the way his face immediately falls, eyes narrowing in your direction.

“Y’already know the answer t’that.”

Gaze darting back to the stove, he’s quick to set his coffee to the side, muttering a curse under his breath as he lowers the flame burning under the pan. You twist your body to grab a mug from the cupboard and fill it with the blazing hot liquid, crossing the kitchen to settle at the table.

The subsequent silence is companionable, and you let the coffee rouse the parts of your brain that haven’t quite caught up with you, yet. You watch the strong muscles of Joel’s back, rippling and pulling under his shirt, as he extends his arm to pull a plate down from a different cupboard.

It’s mesmerizing, the agile way he moves, so it catches you off guard when he slides the plate and a fork in front of you, steam rolling off the scrambled eggs and slices of toast.

You hadn’t even noticed him using the toaster.

“Oh,” you squeak, blinking away the surprise you know is written all over your face. “You shouldn’t h-”

“Wanted to.” It’s kind, but matter-of-fact. A stern statement to dissuade you from arguing back.

As he lowers himself into the chair across from you, tossing his own full plate onto the table, you can’t help but remember his hands on your jaw the last time the two of you had been here together.

Together.

He immediately digs into his food, shoveling it into his mouth and slurping his coffee. You drop your gaze to the plate in front of you, picking up the fork and gingerly shuffling the contents of it around.

Something close to guilt needles at your stomach, and all too suddenly the words are hot on your tongue.

“I lied to you last night.”

Joel doesn’t flinch, doesn’t look up at you — just keeps chewing and swallowing.

“Yeah?” Another bite, more chewing, swallowing again.

“I…I kissed someone. At the club.”

The confession hangs between you, though he remains as taciturn as you’ve ever seen him. It’s only when he draws his mug up to his mouth that he even meets your eyes, subtle amusement dancing in the liquid amber of them.

It’s candy Pop Rocks compared to what would have been Tommy’s dynamite.

Joel hasn’t stilled at all, continuing to drink his coffee and scoop his eggs on top of his toast.

“You…asked if I met anyone. And I lied to you.”

Toast halfway to his mouth, the small pile of eggs perched atop it dangerously close to slipping off, he pauses. His brows pull together in a question that you can’t quite read. An epiphany that you’re not privy to.

Lowering his arm, your eyes follow the eggs as they fall to his plate with a muted plop.

“Y’don’t owe me anythin’, Peach.”

Liar.

“But I-”

He shakes his head, and whatever it was that you wanted to say dies in your throat. “Y’had a reason to not tell me. And that reason belongs to you and you alone.”

You scrunch your brows together, an unfamiliar feeling building in your chest. He watches as it happens, his own chest pulling tight at the recognition of your uncertainty, of the doubt in your eyes. He’s quick to lean over the table, over the momentarily forgotten plates of food, to soothe your skin with a knowing drag of his thumb. The fork in your hand falls, clattering against the ceramic.

“Hey. Soften up, darlin’. Just don’t want you to think y’have t’tell me anythin’ y’don’t want to.” His voice is low, eyes intently searching yours. “Doesn’t mean I don’t understand why you’re tellin’ me.”

There’s something so tender about the way he tells you this, the way he touches you, that you’re sure you’ll spontaneously combust. Nothing has ever belonged to you — and only you — before. Not even your thoughts have ever been your own, the space reserved and velvet-roped for the ghosts of your shortcomings.

And you know that though Joel doesn’t quite grasp the gravity of what he’s saying, the words are bubblegum and champagne to you. Exactly, perfectly right.

“You’re good. It’s okay.” He gently brushes a still-damp tangle of your hair back over your ear, and you wonder if he can feel how hard your heart is pounding. “Y’don’t always have to be so…hard on yourself.”

You’re good.

“Say it, Peach.”

Like he can read your mind. Like he can reach directly inside you, all those ties he’d undone, to extract the most vulnerable parts. Soften them. Shield them. Nurture them.

As though he can taste the desperation surging off your skin.

“I’m good.” Your own voice is so small, you hardly recognize it. The words taste bitter, grapefruit with the sugar dusted off. Unearned.

“You’re good, sweetheart,” he repeats, the rough tips of his fingers sliding along your jaw as he pulls his hand back, dropping it to retrieve his abandoned toast. “Now please eat. It’ll help.”

Hesitantly picking up your fork again, you mirror him — biting and chewing thoughtfully, humming as the toast settles in your stomach. Sipping your coffee. It’s almost easy.

Joel makes it easy.

Every now and again he flicks his eyes up to watch you, to make sure you’re actually eating, silently pleased as the amount on your plate slowly diminishes. He finishes before you do, shoving his plate forward and tipping back in his chair, fingers wrapping around his mug comfortably.

Moving the last bits of egg around the perimeter of your plate, you take the opening as Joel’s shoulders relax against the slatted wood.

“I, um, didn’t think you’d be…like this.”

It catches him off guard, a warm laugh betraying his usual stoicism. The levity of it curls around your limbs, climbs the length of your spine. “Oh yeah? ‘N what’d you think I’d be like?”

Avoidant. Brooding. Grumpy.

“Much less…pleasant?” You crinkle your nose at the word, not satisfied with it. “Or, like, you’re kind of…nice?”

This time he laughs out loud, angling his head back and opening his mouth wide. The sound of it lights you up from the inside, sparkly and hot.

“I mean…oh my god, that’s so stupid. I just mean…like, I think being here…will be good for me.”

You’re babbling now, skirting around the fact that you think being around him will be good for you. But something deep in your stomach tells you that he already knows. That he’s always known.

Dropping his head to his chest, you think you see a light sprinkle of pink break out across his tanned cheeks and nose. He clears his throat, mouth obscured by his coffee mug.

“I’m nice t’you, sweetheart.”

The remainder of the day is spent zeroed in on your work laptop, still at the kitchen table, legs stretched across the chair Joel had occupied that morning.

He had slipped out after breakfast to run errands — a few work related, a few personal — asking if you’d wanted to come. The invitation had made your heart swell, the feeling of being wanted stirring in your veins. It was hard to resist, the promise of more time with him so incredibly alluring, but you’d declined, work hanging over your head like a raincloud.

“It’s Saturday, Peach,” he’d murmured, eyeing you as you’d flipped open the slender screen of the device.

“Good thing I don’t have any plans, then,” you’d replied, clicking the trackpad to open your multiple files — budgets and spreadsheets and invoices stacking one on top of the other — thoughts turning to how much you’d rather be climbing into Joel’s truck beside him.

But he’d backed off, dropping a quick squeeze to your shoulder before leaving.

It’s not until he’d been gone for some time that it strikes you how different the interaction was with Joel than it ever had been with Tommy — no exasperation, no stomping out of the house, no argument. And you can’t compare them, you know, because he’s not Tommy, and he’s not your boyfriend —but it’s stable, sustainable. A quiet admission of knowing what you need. Of some kind of trust passing between the two of you.

A disruptive ringing snaps you back to reality, your fingers still resting on the keyboard of the laptop. The screen has gone black, an indication of the amount of time passed.

With a slight shake of your head, your eyes track to the smaller screen, your sister’s name and picture lit up. Uneasiness rolls through you, as it always does when she calls.

“Hey, Kit.” You drop your head back onto the curved wood of the chair, exhaling shallowly through your nose.

“Have you been avoiding me?”

You can hear the shrieking of children in the background, the clatter of pots and pans and running water.

“Are you doing the dishes?” It’s in your best interest to sidestep the question, her giving you the perfect opportunity to do so.

“I didn’t think you’d actually answer.”

The fingers of your other hand find the bridge of your nose, squeezing gently.

“I’ve been…busy. Work has been a lot.”

Liar sits just below your diaphragm, pendulous and dark.

“And how has living with Joel been?”

You should have known that she’d cut straight to the point. Like she always does.

“It’s fine, Kit. It’s been going really well, actually.” You can’t help but snap, the tranquil feeling of Joel’s confidence in you waning into annoyance at being treated like a child by your sister.

Beyond that, a significant part of you is determined to protect the strange, placid thing between you and Joel, whatever it is. Whatever it isn’t.

Kit sighs, but it’s soft. “I’m just calling to say hey. We haven’t talked in so long.”

“You’re calling to check up on me.”

“Is there something so wrong with that? I’m your sister.”

“Not my mother.”

You regret the words as soon as they pass your lips. You can feel her hurt seeping through the phone, from thousands of miles away. It cuts to your core.

“Kit, I didn’t-”

“You’re right. I’m not your mom. But you could at least be fucking kind to me, because I am all you’ve got.”

Your breath catches in your throat. Kit rarely — if ever — curses, and it hits you like a punch in the stomach.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, tears immediately swimming in your line of vision. “You just, remind me of her so much sometimes, and…and I…”

“Have a lot of unresolved bullshit with her.”

“Yeah.”

She’s never said the words aloud before; it’s a subject the two of you had always avoided into adulthood. The crevasse between you, wide and gaping. Hearing her say it, acknowledge it, feels like sucking fresh air into your lungs after holding your breath underwater for too long.

“Daniel! Stop hitting your sister!” She suddenly calls out, and the moment crashes down at your feet.

“Look, um, I’m working. Let’s talk later this week, okay?” You sniffle, salty tears threatening to spill over. “Love you.”

You click to end the call before she can protest.

Rubbing your hands down your face, you wish you hadn’t even answered. Talking about her is never easy, but talking about her with Kit is something you’d danced around for years.

The phone begins to vibrate again, and you almost swipe to ignore it, assuming it’s Kit angrily calling back. But it’s Joel’s name splashed across the screen, and your heart thrums with familiarity. With relief.

“Hey, darlin’.” He says when you answer, the warm timbre of his voice washing everything else out of your head — Tommy and Kit and work included. “I’m thinkin’ about orderin’ pizza, that sound okay t’you?”

“Please, that sounds great.” And it does. Easy. Low maintenance. Comfortable. Exactly what you need. “But only if we can have beers, too.”

He chuckles, the sound low in his throat. “Read my mind, Peach.”

“You’re in the same exact place you were when I left,” Joel exclaims as he walks through the door, a rack of beer on his hip.

“Money never sleeps,” you reply, closing the laptop with finality and stifling a yawn.

“Maybe not, but you need to.”

“Mmm, pizza and beer first,” you hum, pushing yourself up from the table and joining him at the counter, his hands already tearing at the cardboard.

“Anythin’ excitin’ happen while I was out?” He holds a bottle out to you, fingers grazing yours as you take it. A thrill shoots down your spine, settling between your legs.

You lean back against the sink, drawing in a deep breath before tipping the beer back into your mouth. “Nothing I’d love to revisit at this moment.”

The only thing you’d love in this moment is to bask in Joel’s magic — let it wash over you, head to toe. Erase the terrible things you’d said to Kit. Be good again.

He quirks a brow at you, but doesn’t press. Instead, he holds his phone out in front of him, a pizza app pulled up. You shake your head, pushing it away.

“I will eat literally whatever you order.”

Shrugging, he drops his gaze to the screen, thumb flicking up to scroll through the menu slowly. “Hope y’actually mean that. Might try to order a gross pizza just to call y’on your bluff.”

45 minutes later, you’re both on the couch, beer and pizza in hand, an old movie playing in the background. One of your favorites — a sprawling mansion on the English coast, a haunted marriage, the shadow of a mysterious ex-wife, Rebecca. One of Hitchcock’s best, in your opinion.

Joel is happy to oblige, love a good black ‘n white slipping out of his otherwise full mouth.

As much as you love the film, you’re preoccupied with the way the evening sun casts the room in a golden glow, and how it seems to accentuate Joel’s innate softness. A softness you feel privileged to see, to have lavished on you. You want to drown in it — let his kindness corrupt you, let him untangle you.

Selfish fizzes at your fingertips, creeps up the span of your arms.

You shift your focus to the ropey muscles and tendons of Joel’s neck, gaze climbing up his strong jaw, covered in a smattering of salt and pepper scruff, to the long line of his aquiline nose. He balances his half-empty beer bottle on his knee, fingers wrapped around the neck of it.

And if you’re being perfectly honest with yourself, you don’t want to think about anything else. You don’t want to consider what it all means, yet. You want to just exist, here, with him. Watching the way he watches the movie, the way he gulps his beer down.

Hidden from the rest of the world.

Tucking your legs up underneath your body, you let your head loll on the cushion of the couch. You’d hide forever, if you could.

You stretch your arms above you, a sleepy, dopey grin splayed across your mouth — secure glowing fluorescent at the apex of your thighs. The movem ent draws his attention, as though he’d heard your pulse cry his name.

“Tired?” His voice thick, eyes tracing the soft shape of your arms as they reach skyward.

“Mhm. But I wanna finish the movie.”

A coy, sideways smile pulls at the corners of his mouth, and he leans forward to place his pizza plate on the coffee table.

“C’mere, sweetheart,” he drawls lowly, sloping back to slide his hand across your shoulders and wrap his fingers gently around your bicep to tug you closer. Turning, you meet him with wide eyes, glittering in the dark, your heart a trembling magic eight ball — are you sure this is okay?

And without words, he lets you know that it is. Lets you know that he wants you to.

Guided by his large open palm, you carefully curl into his side, dropping your head to his lap. You pull your legs up to your chest, both hands nestling narrowly under his thigh. His hand hovers over the soft curve of your hip, a barely-there touch that makes you ache.

You draw in a deliberate breath, holding it deep until he finally lets his hand drop to the exposed flesh between the band of your shorts and raised hem of your t-shirt.

A million sparks of light burst over your skin, fireworks exploding across the creamy silk of it. Your eyes flutter closed, hyper-aware of every tense of his fingers. The movie continues to play, but the whole world has fluctuated to both start and end in the exact place that he touches you.

As though there is no before this moment in time, only after.

Inevitable.

His hand slides up the length of your body, over the notches of your ribs, and higher still so that his fingers skim the delicate line of your neck. You can feel him relax further into the cushions of the couch, broad body molding to its shape, and you wonder if he’s concentrating on you as hard as you are on him.

In an answer to your unspoken question, he begins to tenderly stroke the spread of your hair, fanned down your shoulders and pooled in his lap.

“Y’know,” he mumbles, eyes still cast to the television, “we had breakfast and dinner together today.”

“We did,” you agree, a slight simper at your lips.

“‘N the world didn’t end, did it, Peach?” He angles his chin down to look at you at the same time you tilt your head to look up at him. He hasn’t stopped caressing the silky locks of your hair, and when you meet his eyes, he grasps a fistful of it gently. The pleasurepain of it makes your blood hot.

“No,” you whisper, “it didn’t.”

He leans closer by just a fraction, and you can’t help but be entranced by the shape of his mouth as his plush lips form the words that cross them.

“Want it to be like that everyday.”

He’s looking at you like there’s a peephole into your soul — a pinpoint view of the feral thing inside of you, on display for him. He’s looking at you like it excites him.

“Me too, Joel,” you breathe, the possibility a white static between you.

Not a single thing outside of the two of you exists in this moment. He prefers it that way, having you all to himself.

“Like you bein’ here, sweetheart.” There’s not a trace of hesitancy in his voice, but he says it like it’s a secret. “Like you workin’ at my kitchen table, and havin’ pizza and beer, and watchin’ old movies with you. Like wakin’ up knowin’ you’re here.”

He moves to trace the outline of your bottom lip with his thumb, and you’re suddenly looking up at him through half-lidded eyes, breathing stilted.

Closing the distance between you, he noses along the soft cut of your jaw, burying his face in your hair. He wants to drink down the way you gasp when he does; the sound burned into his brain, knowing it will come back to him when he’s stroking himself off later.

The elastic compulsion of his need so prominent, so inescapable, that the next words out of his mouth surprise even him.

“Go to sleep, Peach.” His mouth is on your ear, goosebumps rising in the wake of his breath over your skin. “‘M not goin’ anywhere.”

Taking one last deep breath of you in, he pulls back, resuming running his hand up and down the hills and valleys of your body.

The most that he’ll allow himself.

“I said some fucked up things to Kit today. She called while you were gone.”

The words fall out of your mouth, buried shame and anger spilling out with them. A confession.

Joel hums, hand still roaming, almost absentmindedly. It’s reassuring, a reminder of his words — you’re good.

“Siblings are…hard,” he suggests, emphasizing his point with a quick press of his fingers into your hip. “They get your best ‘n your worst, and don’t have a choice. It’s…safe to put the hard things on ‘em.”

“And bein’ the older one is…is…” he continues, pausing to clear his throat, voice tinged with something you can’t name, “a lot of responsibility. ‘N y’always wanna do right by them, y’know? Protect ‘em. But sometimes y’can’t. Hafta let ‘em figure it out on their own. Fuck up on their own.”

The silence that hangs in the air is charged with unsaid words. Unasked questions. Realities and consequences that neither of you are ready to explore the depths of. Guilt.

“Do you think I’m fucking up?”

“No, sweetheart. But I can’t say the same for other people.”

He squeezes your side again, letting his fingers linger just a touch longer than he had before. Dizziness snakes up your vertebrae, cloudy and disorienting. Desire. Want.

It’s a torrid kind of want, one that burrows under your skin and makes itself known. You think Joel can feel it, too, the way his touch roves over you — can feel it burn ing hot at the intersection of your skin and his.

But your brain pulls your body back, settles it to a low simmer. Reminds you to think instead of act.

And eventually, you fall asleep doing exactly that.

When you wake up later, sleep-drunk and unsure of the time, a too-bright infomercial in place of the movie, Joel is still there, just like he’d promised, head dropped to the flat of the couch, softly snoring. Chest steadily rising and falling, fingers curled into your flesh, firmly clasped just below your ribcage.

You don’t move an inch, afraid to wake him, and fall back asleep to the sound of his breathing.

A week passes. Then two weeks. And before you know it, summer winds into autumn, and the two of you slip into an easy routine — somewhat delicate, somewhat hesitant, but comfortable. And you feel silly, now, considering how naturally effortless it is. As though it could have always been this way.

And truly, that’s the hardest part to navigate. Drawing the line between what is, and what you want it to be.

Neither of you has brought up that night, at least to one another. But after you’ve gone to bed each night, you replay it in your mind, the feeling of his hands on you the image at the forefront of it; his name a whimper on your lips as your own fingers crawl beneath your panties.

Each night, wishing they were his.

It’s far too easy to overthink, second guess, dissect the way Joel’s fingers brush yours as you hand him his coffee, or the way his lips quirk up while he watches you struggle to assemble a bookshelf.

“Peach, please let me help. Promise it’ll be so much faster.”

Your indignant scowl, arms twisted over your chest in defiance. His soft laugh, deft hands picking up where yours had left off, piecing the cheap wood together without a hitch. Sitting back on his haunches, massive fingers tugging at your forearms to untangle them. The sticky warmth in his eyes when you let him.

“See? Coulda just asked me.”

Ensuring a soft landing, in every sense of the word.

The routine you’ve created is grounding, satisfying. Something to focus on aside from your intensely confusing feelings about Joel, something that pushes everything else to the back of your mind. Something to lose yourself in.

It’s not much — no caviar and lingerie and nightcaps, but it’s yours. An ardent, fulfilling thing that makes you feel steady on your feet. That makes the sharp, prodding fingers of your thoughts dissolve into a gleaming mist. Even the edges of the words in your head, the angry curvatures of your mother’s voice, bleed into nothing in the safety net of him.

The magic of it lies in its simplicity: taking turns cooking, laundry on Sundays, greetings with warm smiles even when you have to work late or spend entire evenings parked in front of your laptop. Some evenings he’ll go to the local dive with friends, some nights you’ll bury yourself in a book in your bed. The divine act of surviving.

The foundation of something, being constructed slowly from the ground up. Methodically. Each brick a meaningful gesture, word, moment.

You, being rebuilt from the ground up, at the skilled hands of Joel Miller.

A way back to yourself.

And it’s not like you don’t catch him watching you while you work, or let him drag your legs over his lap while your laptop perches precariously on your thighs on the couch. His hands are on you in some way or another more often than not, and you like it. You want it.

If only it were that easy.

If only it could be so uncomplicated — some semblance of normal.

But it’s not. And you know it never will be. So you take what you can get — reveling in the hours spent watching movies together, the errands run together, the shared jokes and spilled chinese takeout. Your own brand of normal.

And he tells you, often, how much he prefers this kind of normal — the one with you in it.

“You ‘n me, Peach, remember?”

The line a continuous, hazy blur — what is, and what you want it to be.

“Hi babe! It’s been ages since I’ve seen you, so we should go out tonight? Thoughts? No, wait — don’t think about it, we should just driiiink about it! Love you!”

Ava’s chocolate-box trill fills the cabin of your car. Rain drizzles lazily down the windows as you click to replay the voicemail, the familiarity of her elongated words and upward inflection making your heart ache. It’s not the first time she’s invited you out since what you’ve come to refer to as the incident, but it’s the first time you’ve felt genuine remorse at turning her down.

But you will do so without hesitating, the grocery bags in the trunk of your car being the only thing on your agenda for the dreary Friday evening.

Typing out a quick text to Ava (sorry babe! raincheck!), your thumb lingers over the thread just below hers. Clicking it open again, the words on the screen send a languid fire rolling through your veins.

You: I’m cooking tonight

Joel Miller: whatever you want, peach

Whatever you want.

The possibility licks hot at every inch of you.

The kitchen has become your favorite place in the house. The heart of it, the life of it. You’ve memorized every nook and cranny, each knot and split of the woodwork. The contents of all drawers and cabinets, the haphazard organization of it all.

You move around the room fluidly, exuding a sense of belonging that’s not lost on Joel. Body propped against the doorframe, he watches as you pour and stir and salt — as comfortable, as confident, as he’s ever seen you.

A bittersweet conception stirs in him, the edges of it coming into soft-focus. Before it can fully form on the screen of his mind, grow roots in the cavern of his heart, he clears his throat to get your attention.

“Peach.”

“Hmm?” You twist just enough to catch his gaze, clocking the expectant look in his eyes. Immediately laying the spoon in your hand on the counter, you face your entire body to his, matching the open expression.

“Close your eyes.”

You obey without question, squeezing them shut and unfolding your hands in front of you like a prayer. There’s the sound of his feet and a quick hiss as Joel opens and closes the refrigerator, placing something cold and dewy in your open palms. Your fingers automatically close around the curves of it.

A wine bottle.

Dragging your bottom lip with your teeth, the corners of your mouth quirk up. Your lashes flutter open, gaze sweeping over the intricate label — a golden goddess, surrounded by ribbons of different shades of pink and blue, dotted with tiny golden star details. The shiny, beveled type spells out Prophecy just below the image.

“This is my favorite.” There’s awe in your voice. Reverence. It shines in your irises as you look up at Joel, who is posted up against the counter, arms crossed over his broad chest.

“Was on sale.”

He breaks into a smirk, cheeks flushing as your sweet laugh fills the space between the two of you.

“Either way,” you respond, humor bleeding into the edges of your voice, eyes rolling fondly, “mind opening it up while I finish everything else?”

Raising his hand to retrieve the bottle, he’s quick to wrap his fingers around the arches of yours. He tugs once, firmly, pulling both you and the bottle close to his chest.

It rattles the air in your lungs, the tiniest oh fanning the base of his throat. He dips his head to meet your gaze, breath punching warm across the bridge of your nose and cheekbones. It’s dizzying, the closeness.

“How’d you know?”

You’re asking about the wine. There’s two inches of space separating you, and you’re asking about the wine.

He leans down further, the slope of his nose pulling across your cheek to graze the shell of your ear. His breathing is deep, measured, in control.

“You brought’t over for dinner once. Said the same thing — was your favorite. I just remembered, that’s all.” He says it casually, as if discussing the weather. As if knowing your favorite wine is the most natural thing in the world to him. “Wanted to get you somethin’ special.”

Whatever you want, Peach.

Your fingers draw swirls against the bottle, the heat from his leeching overtop of them. His grip tightens, words ringing in your ears. You can smell his shampoo, his cologne, him. The spicy warmth of it is mesmerizing — it infiltrates your senses, knocks you off balance.

The rest of the world feels a million miles away.

“Shit!” you hiss suddenly, wrenching your hands away and spinning to remove the saucepan from the flame. “I don’t want it to scorch.”

Joel hums amusedly, hands scrambling so the bottle doesn’t slip and shatter. You then hear him begin to drag open and slam closed multiple drawers, the clang and clatter of various utensils nearly drowning out the swearing under his breath.

“Where’s the damn—”

“Here.” Using your hand not balancing the saucepan, you stretch to retrieve the corkscrew buried in the drawer closest to you, watching through your lashes as he meets your extended grasp to take it.

His gaze lingers on you a split second, corners of his mouth downturned, brows drawn low. Analyzing. Memorizing. It doesn’t last long, him turning on his heel to retreat to the kitchen table.

Something about the way he does it pulls at you, a tangle that you can’t quite find the end of. It’s kindling to the fire smoldering low in your belly, the one you’re desperate to keep at bay — the one that roars back to life as Joel carefully pours your favorite wine into two plastic solo cups.

You can’t help but watch, the repetitive glug glug glug of the liquid into the cup matching the beat of the nearly-boiling blood in your veins. A sheepish smile overtakes his stoic facade, his eyes meeting yours across the room.

“Don’t have any wine glasses.” He nods to the plastic cups, a gentle laugh at the very edge of his words.

“Wouldn’t want one anyway,” you reply, mirroring the way his cheeks round out in a grin.

You’re just spooning the pasta and sauce onto plates when he materializes at your elbow, making a grab for both dishes.

“Uh! I don’t think so!” You click your tongue against your teeth teasingly, blocking his body with yours. “You go sit. I’ll bring them over.”

“You cooked,” he protests, smooth palm grazing your ribs in another attempt to bypass you.

“So you can clean, if you’re worried about it.” Flashing another brilliant sideways grin at him, you pick up a plate in each hand and nudge him backwards with your hip.

“Yes ma’am.” It’s a capitulation, a willingness to step back and let you lead him.

The notion strikes hot against you, nestles in the aching space between your thighs. It scales your stomach, gains speed in the span of your arms, makes your fingers tremble as you set the plates on the table.

“Cheers,” you mumble, scrabbling to pick up the flimsy cup, tipping it just so in his direction before taking a sizable gulp.

As he parallels your action in bringing the wine to his mouth, you wonder if there will ever be a time when he doesn’t trigger the roiling heat in your veins.

Then again, you think, maybe you want him to stoke that in you — always.

Fingers delicate around the body of your just-refilled red solo, you make your way from the kitchen to the couch, where Joel is slouched back, legs parted. It’s impossible not to drag your eyes across the muscled heft of his thighs, to not linger on the way his jeans stretch to accommodate him. His heavy hands rest on the bulk of them, fingers spread languidly.

While you watch him, he’s watching you. You can tell by the way his digits flex and relax, callused pads pulling patterned lines over denim. Keeping his composure, despite the way the wine ignites him. Despite the way you ignite him.

The lights in the room are low, the comforting drum of fat raindrops on the glass panes of the window constant. Your limbs feel loose, a combination of Joel and the wine. There’s a record on low in the background, but you don’t know who. You’d settled on the cushions while he’d taken the shiny disc out of the dust jacket gently, dropped the needle softly, with the most care you’d ever seen, and let the smooth rhythm of it fill the room.

“You gonna cook like that more often?” It’s casual, airy. As if the walls of the room aren’t closing in on the two of you, pushing you nearer and nearer to him.

Inescapable.

You giggle — you fucking giggle — stepping over him to curl back into your place on the couch.

“If you’ll let me.”

He scoffs, turning his body to face you. “Let you?”

You smile dreamily, looking up at him through your lashes. He’s close enough that you can climb over him, bracket his thighs with yours, take his hands and drag them up the length of your body.

There’s no voice in the back of your head telling you not to, for once. No whispers admonishing you, reminding you that you’re wicked and worthless and unlovable.

So when he repeats himself, asking “let you?” in a thick voice, you do.

Your body moves before your brain has time to react — you throw one leg over his lap, hands grasping for purchase on the back of the couch for balance, situating your thighs on the outside of his. It’s a snug fit, one that opens your hips wide, the stinging stretch of it pushing you forward. You relax your core over his, the zipper of his jeans biting into the ice-cream flesh of your inner thigh.

And when your brain finally does catch up, all you can feel are his big palms cupped around the backs of your thighs, kneading the exposed flesh there. His fingertips barely graze beneath the hems of your sleep shorts, and you’re all too-aware of how close they are to your center.

There’s a satisfied hum on his lips, a knowing growl in his throat. A silent admission of how long he’s waited for you. A confession of a different kind of hunger, a kind with legs and buoyancy.

His eyes burn into yours — no traces of hesitancy, surprise, guilt woven into the golden gleam of them.

Twin masks slipping at the same time. Resolve stretched to snapping, satisfaction within tasting distance as you grind down into him — just once, desperation sliding down your spine.

“You can have whatever you want, Peach.” His voice is low, a wanton whisper that punches somewhere near your throat.

Those words again.

Whatever you want.

You’re looking down at him, his irises shining with earnestness, and you can’t help but raise your hand from the couch to card through his thick waves. But he catches your wrist before you can, bringing it down to the heat of his mouth to press his lips to your open palm without breaking his searing gaze.

You moan. At least, you think you do, though it’s a quiet, broken thing. A whine. A plea.

His thumb swipes back and forth over your wrist, your hand small in his grip. You watch through hooded eyes as he lowers it to the crotch of his jeans, your breath catching in the cavern of your chest as you feel him for the first time.

It’s somewhat surreal — the thickness of his hard cock in your palm, separated only by the material of his pants. Every fantasy you’ve harbored about him unwrapped at the tips of your fingers, his hand pressing yours into him, unforgiving and firm.

His other hand swallows the curve of your thigh, chases up your side to grasp at your hip, dragging your cunt over him. He drops his head back, repeating the action, the ropes of muscle in his neck pulled taut as he bites back a groan.

Your head is swimming — Joel’s heady scent and bruising touch combined with the wine makes everything feel soft-focus and shimmery, like a dream. You cant your hips again, focusing on the way his jaw ticks when you do, lost in watching the way his body responds to yours.

The reality of it sits heavy between the place his skin meets yours — breaths mingling as a cry of finally, finally, finally. It consumes you both in such a way that neither of you hear a key turning in the lock, the door slamming open, or heavy boots in the entryway.

It’s not until he speaks that both you and Joel snap your heads in his direction, chests heaving, hands climbing. Caught.

“Guess it’s true, huh? Y’really are enjoyin’ my sloppy seconds.”

#joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fic #joel miller tlou #tlou fanfiction

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whatdoeseverybodywant · 7 months

Text

You're the Only Girl for Me - Chapter 15

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤

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Series Masterlist

Taglist: @christinabae @southerngirl41 @reci1996 @jeyusos-girl @jeyusosgirl @melaninsugababy @bemybabiibish @jstarr86 @baconeggndcheez @nbanenefrmdao @purplehairgawdess @arination99 @m3llowww @alyyaanna @harmshake @jeysbae @empressdede @theninthwonder @badbitchcentralinc @bluesole16 @leaderofthebadbitchbrigade @bonni-98 @raya-hunter01 @bebesobrielo @venusesworld @babysyhsyh

if your name is bold, tumblr won’t let me tag you

WARNING: MENTIONS OF DOMESTIC ABUSE ;

February 14th 2021

Airelle woke up when a loud muffled moan came from the other side of her wall, where Yasmine’s room was located. “Oh fuck Joe, right there!” Airielle’s eyes widened before she grabbed the pillow that was next to her head and placed it over her face letting out a muffled scream. She sat up in her bed and glared at the wall once she heard the headboard start to knock against the wall.

“Lucky bitch.” She muttered as she picked her phone up to check the time 6:34 am. She sighed and got out of the bed. “Guess I can go workout.” She said to herself as she quickly got dressed, trying to ignore the sounds of Yasmine and Joe getting down.

Grabbing her keys, Airielle ran out of the apartment as fast as she could. When she got to the gym, she failed to pay attention to a familiar car in the parking lot. A black Ford F-150. After checking in with the front desk she made her way over to the equipment stopping in her tracks at the sight of familiar tattooed arms lifting weights.

Airielle’s heart sped up as their eyes locked. She sent him a small smile and a wave which he returned, before he went back to his workout. She cursed herself as she walked over to the treadmill, if she wasn’t so preoccupied with getting out of the apartment, she would have realized that Josh should've been at the gym. This was his gym, he was the one who told her about it.

Airielle knew that Josh normally worked out around this time, he dealt with insomnia and had FacTimed her multiple times while he worked out claiming that seeing her face gave him motivation even though she was sleeping while they were on the phone.

Airielle tried her hardest to not look at him, but she could feel his eyes on her as she started her workout. She had thought hard about their relationship and she did miss Josh badly and she wanted to be with him but Tracy was going to have to stay far away from her. Because there was no real reason for Tracy to even lie the way she did, she was apparently in a relationship so why was she trying to ruin Josh and Airielle’s?

“You still ignoring me?” Airielle choked on her water and turned her head to look at Josh with wide eyes. She hadn’t even heard him walk over to her. Josh chuckled at the look on her face and reached over to slow down the treadmill before she went and fell on her face.

“Huh?” She said after her coughing fit, stepping off the treadmill and standing in front of him.

“I said, are you still ignoring me?” Airielle sighed and shuffled on her feet. She was uncomfortable but she also knew that she needed to talk to him even if it was in the middle of the deserted gym.

“I wasn't ignoring you Josh, I just needed time to think.” Josh nodded and bit the inside of his cheek.

“About us?” He asked after a moment of silence to which Airielle nodded.

“Yes, about us, about your baby momma, about everything.” Josh nodded again but didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what to say all he knew was that he wanted to be with Airielle and he needed her to know that. He needed her to know that she made him happy and that she was all he could think about. Well tell her that dummy. His inner voice scolded him.

“Before you tell me your decision, have dinner with me later on.” She opened her mouth to protest but Josh cut her off. “Please, just come over to my place and have dinner with me and we can talk about us. Just don’t break up with me without us having a conversation.” Airielle sighed before she nodded, agreeing to be at his apartment no later than 7 pm. Josh smiled and went to give her a kiss on the cheek before stopping himself. He said goodbye before leaving the gym, the smile still on his face.

“So you’re going to Josh’s apartment?” Yasmine asked for the 1000th time causing Airielle to sigh and roll her eyes as she finished up the final touches of her make-up.

“Yes Yas. I’m going over to Josh’s” she paused then added “For dinner only.”

“On Valentine's Day?” Airielle locked eyes with Yasmine in the mirror and arched an eyebrow.

“Whatchu’ tryna say Yasmine?” Airielle turned around and leaned against her vanity, cocking her head to the side as she waited for Yasmine’s answer. Yasmine held her hands up defensively and let out a little chuckle.

“Hey. I mean. The old Airielle would’ve blocked him and been moved on by now, but you must really like him.” Yasmine teased.

Airielle rolled her eyes again and pushed past Yasmine. “Shut up,” Airielle mumbled and Yasmine’s eyes widened before she let out a squeal and started jumping up and down

“You love him!” Airielle stumbled in her heels and she whirled around and faced Yasmine.

“No I don’t, I didn’t say that. I don’t love him, why would you say that?” Airielle rambled on and the smile started to slowly fade from Yasmine’s face as Airirlle’s breathing increased, almost to a full blown panic attack.

“Airie chill. Relax. I was only joking.” Yasmine tried to pull Airielle into a hug but Airielle pushed her away.

“Well, don’t joke like that Yas.” Airielle mumbled, trying her hardest to blink back tears because what Yasmine said was 100% true. She was in love with Josh and she was scared. She had only been in love one time and it ended with her in the hospital with two broken ribs, a broken ankle and a broken nose that needed to be surgically fixed.

“Oh honey,” Yasmine sighed and pulled Airielle into a hug, despite her fighting. Yasmine rubbed her back as she broke down in her arms. “It’s okay babe. Josh ain’t nothing like Christopher and you know that which is why you gravitate towards him, he treats you way better than Christopher ever did, even before y’all got engaged.” Yasmine lifted Airielle’s face off of her shoulder and wiped her tears away. “Now go fix your make-up and go get your man.”

AIRIELLEJONES

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AirielleJones: Happy Valentines Day ❤️

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user: please say you back with @uceyjucey

uceyjucey: ❤️🔥 (❤️ by author)

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raymondwwe: Happy V-day Rih 🫶🏽

uceyjucey: breh yasmine_jones: read the room homie (❤️ by author)

Airielle tried to stop shaking as she reached Josh’s front door but her nerves were all over the place. She took a deep breath before knocking on the door, not surprised at how quickly Josh opened it.

“Hey.” Airielle whispered, eyeing his outfit. “You look nice.” She said, smiling when he moved to the side to let her in.

“You do too.” He said back but Airielle wasn’t listening, her eyes moving around the kitchen/dining room area in awe.

“Josh” She whispered, tears threatening to fall from her eyes as she looked at all the balloons and rose petals he had spread out in his apartment.

“Happy Valentine’s Day Airielle.” He whispered as he came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her.

His attention to detail was immaculate as he had her favorite… everything. Her favorite wine, her favorite takeout food (she noted as he did a poor job of hiding the containers in the trash) and her favorite chocolate candy.

“You didn’t have to do all this.” She whispered, turning around so she could look at him.

“I know, I wanted to,” He sighed and grabbed her hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of it.. “I just wanted to show you how much you mean to me. Even if you have been ignoring me..” He said with a small smile. “You make me happy as hell Airielle and I just wanted to apologize for putting you in that situation with Tracy. I should’ve told her ass to go home when she came Friday morning, I just didn’t want her to take the boys with her.”

“I understand that” Airielle nodded, “I just don’t want to deal with that Josh -

“And I don’t want you to have to deal with that. What T did was wrong as hell and she knows that. You don’t deserve to have my ex come and tell you a bunch of lies and I completely understand if that's you deal breaker Rih.”

Airielle sighed. Was that a deal breaker for her? And Yas was right if Josh was anybody else she would have cut ties with him and been moved on.. So why couldn’t she?

is this considered a cliff hanger??

Lmao.. she she realized she's in love with him, y'all think she gon tell him or walk away from him?

#wwe #jey uso #jey uso x black reader #jey uso imagine #main event jey uso #jey uso x reader #wwe x black reader #jey uso smut #jey uso fluff #jey uso fanfic #jey uso fanfiction #jey uso x oc #wwe smut #wwe x fem reader #wwe x oc #jey uso x fem reader #black reader #black writblr #your the only girl for me

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maximoffcarter · 4 months

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Enough for you.

Pairings: Casey Novak x Alex Cabot.

Summary: Casey Novak was not for relationships, she was not a person who went to bars and left with the first person that complimented her or bought her a drink; she was not that kind of person. But then she found herself in the same bar as Alex Cabot; how could she say no?

A/n: So...*cough* another angst cause why not. If this goes well...there might be a part 2. This was my own creation from my own mind, so my own request🤷🏻‍♀️ If you got any more requests, please send them my way guys, either on my asks box or message me privately! Hope you guys enjoy this, leave comments, hearts, whatever you like and reblog so this gets some love🫶🏻

Part 2.

*not my gif*

‘You’re still young, you should be having a bit of fun even if you’re busy with work.’ If Casey could get a dollar for each time she heard someone say that she’d be rich at this point, maybe she wouldn’t have to work hectic hours. She knew they were not wrong, she was still young, even if she had gotten a good job at White Collar, she still had a right to live and enjoy her twenties, go for drinks with friends and coworkers every night, but she truly didn’t like that life. If anything, Mary Clark had shown her better, and she was not about to disappoint her; she was willing to focus on her job, to focus on what she came to do, and that was exactly what she was here for, not to go out with her coworkers and then get home all wasted and barely being able to get through the door. Yes, she went out time to time, she was in a softball team, she went to practice whenever her afternoon was free, she had a life out of work. She knew what her coworker meant by fun, but she didn’t want that fun, she didn’t think she’d ever want it.

The last time Casey had dated someone was back when she was engaged, not too long ago, and after that, she decided that she was better off alone. That had been a big mistake, she had rushed things before even meeting the person better and she ended up not only emotionally abused but physically too. Of course she knew that not everyone was the same, she knew that maybe she could be lucky enough to find someone who would treat her right, that could show her what true love was, but she still had many scars left, she still had some pieces to put together, and she was not about to risk it again for someone that she didn’t know, and for someone that could be just like her ex. So that’s why she also preferred to go drink alone every now and then; yes, she liked her coworkers, some of them were fun to be around, but she sometimes believed that she was probably more mature than all of them together so that’s why she enjoyed her time alone.

The one time she decided to finally ignore work for a while and go out with two workers, both of them had ditched her for two guys. There was a third guy, but Casey had rejected him even before he tried to make his move. So she found herself sitting alone at the bar with her second drink in hand, wondering if it was time to go home or if she could have one or two drinks more. She knew she had work to do, maybe she could even go back to the office to pick up her paperwork and take it home along with some take out. But just as she was debating with her thoughts, she felt someone sitting beside her, and at first Casey was going to ignore it, but the strong scent of expensive perfume invaded her nose, making her turn to find a blond woman sitting right beside her. She couldn’t help but stare for a moment, finding the woman beautiful. But when she noticed she had been staring for long, she returned her stare to her almost empty glass.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

Casey felt chills running down her spine at the woman’s voice, she was not expecting it…she was not exactly expecting to have any interaction with this woman or anyone at all. “Uh…I think I’m done with drinks.”

The blonde chuckled. “Seems like you do know how to count them.”

Casey nibbled on her lip as she turned to look at the blonde again, a small grin on her face. “You don’t?”

“Not when I had a hard day.” The blonde turned to look at her, offering a small grin.

“Well, then I get why you wouldn’t count them.” Casey chuckled.

The blonde nodded. “You got those days too?”

Casey nodded. “When you’re a lawyer…you gotta have them.”

The blonde raised a brow. “Seems like we got the same job then.” She grinned.

Casey squinted her eyes as she grinned. “Wait…I’ve seen you somewhere.”

The blonde chuckled as she extended her hand. “Alex Cabot.”

“Right…Sex Crimes.” Casey smiled, extending her hand to take Alex’s. “Casey Novak.”

“Nice to meet you.” Alex grinned, letting go of Casey’s hand. “White Collar?”

“Actually, yes.” Casey nodded.

“Thought I had seen you somewhere.” Alex took her drink and took a sip of it, never taking her eyes away from Casey.

Casey couldn’t help but stare into those beautiful blue eyes, almost as if they were enchanting her in some way. “So, what brings Alex Cabot into this bar?”

Alex shrugged. “Tough case. Needed a drink.”

“I don’t think I could ever do Sex Crimes. So I respect you for that.”

Alex smiled. “Well…you learn to deal with it…” she huffed a chuckle as she raised her drink. “And this right here helps.”

Casey chuckled as she nodded. “I’m sure.” She smiled softly.

No, Casey was not planning on staying more at the bar. No, she did not plan on having more drinks. No, she was not expecting to engage in a conversation with someone, let alone such a beautiful girl as Alex. She has heard a lot of things about Alexandra Cabot, some rumors, some facts, she never listened to the gossip, but when she saw Alex in a press conference and the next time she found herself in the same courtroom, her curiosity for Alex started, and now she had spent easily two hours talking about everything with her, and she was fascinated. They decided to avoid talking about cases, so they talked about other things, and laughs soon joined in the conversation, giving them both a feeling of comfort. And no…Casey did not expect for Alex to ask if she wanted to get out of the bar; actually…she figured at some point that it could happen, but what she did not expect was for her answer to be yes.

Casey moaned the moment her back hit the wall, her eyes staring into blue one as her hands worked their way to Alex’s coat, pulling it off and throwing it somewhere on the floor. Alex’s hands soon found Casey’s neck and pulled her for another heated kiss, her body pressing against Casey’s. “Alex…” she breathed out once she felt Alex’s lips traveling down her neck and finding her pulse point.

“Yes baby?” Alex whispered as she looked up to look into green eyes, panting as they stared at each other. “We can stop if you want to.”

Casey breathed heavily as she wetted her lips, her eyes landing on Alex’s swollen lips and back to blue eyes. She shook her head, a small grin on her face. “I want you to fuck me.”

Alex smirked. “As you wish.”

********************

“So, Novak.” Jessica grinned as she stood at the doorframe of Casey’s office.

Casey looked up from her paperwork and furrowed her brows. “Yes?”

“I got a question for you.” Jessica walked inside the office, the grin never leaving her face.

“No, I am not going to drink with you guys again. You left me. Plus, I’m going to the cages today.” Casey returned her attention to the paperwork.

“That wasn’t my question, but good to know that we won’t be counting on you again.” Jessica chuckled. “Why do you suddenly look so happy?”

Casey frowned, looking up at Jessica again. “I look happy?” Jessica nodded. “I…don’t think I look any different than I have before.”

“You’re getting laid, aren’t you?” Jessica smirked.

“I-“ Casey scoffed. “Jessica! What the hell? No! I’m not. I’ve been having good cases, free time, I get to do more out of work.”

“Oh, you get to do someone…”

Casey rolled her eyes. “Please get out.”

Jessica laughed as she walked to the door. “I know you, Novak!”

Casey cleared her throat as she tried to focus back on her paperwork. Yes, it was true. It had been three months since Casey started seeing Alex after work. After that night, both of them had exchanged numbers after Casey decided to leave in the middle of the night. No, it wasn’t her first time being with a girl, she had always suspected that she liked girls but never actually got with one because her parents expected her to be with a guy. So it was no surprise that she was fascinated by Alexandra Cabot. She knew she was going against her own words, saying that she was not that kind of person, that she’d mainly focus on her job, but after some drinks and engaging in conversation with Alex, she couldn’t help it; and she didn’t regret any of it. But that was it…just a hook up. Nothing more. She was not ready to get into anything serious, it could never be anything serious. She was sure she was not the first attorney to fall into Alex’s bed, as bad as that sounded, but she heard the rumors. So no, this was nothing more than a hook up and that was it.

As for Alex, she knew the rumors that went around in her own office, she knew the nickname that was now known even at the precinct, she knew her reputation, but she really couldn’t care less about it. It was nothing, they were simply rumors and gossip, she was mature enough to let it get to her, and some of them, were nothing but lied, but again, if they wanted to tell them around, they could, she knew the truth and she knew who she was, and that was it. Yes, she had her hook ups before, she had stopped once she had joined Sex Crimes since she had focused her whole attention in the job, and she barely had any time to focus on her private life. But that night, the night she met Casey, something called her in, and she couldn’t help but go against her own words but noticing how beautiful she was, that beautiful smile she had, that voice and laugh…she got lost. And she knew she wanted more. It was impossible to not want more.

“Come here often?” Alex whispered as she stood behind Casey, smirking at the way she had shivered.

Casey turned to look at Alex and smiled. “Starting to. I come to meet someone.”

“Oh, so you mind if I sit with you while you wait?” Alex grinned.

“Not at all.” Casey grinned as she placed Alex’s drink in front of her. “Thought I’d get ahead.”

“Oh, thank you.” Alex smiled as she sat down. “Had a good day?”

Casey nodded. “It was slow. Yours?”

Alex sighed before she took a sip of her drink. “Delightful.”

Casey nodded again, looking down at her drink. “That’s why you called?”

Alex furrowed her brows as she looked at Casey. “I wanted to see you.” She offered a smile. “Just needed someone to talk to.”

Casey smiled softly, looking up at Alex. “We can go to my place.”

Alex grinned as she nodded. “Sounds fair.”

It wasn’t the first time that they met at the bar, had two or three drinks, and then left to Alex’s apartment. Most of their nights went like this. Sometimes Alex would go to Casey’s office in her lunch time and make a plan with Casey to meet at night, or Casey went to Alex’s office to confirm if they’d see each other that night. It had now become a routine, for both of them, they barely talked about work, they only asked about their day, had their drinks, and then went to each other’s apartments. Casey debated with her mind daily, saying this was definitely not something she did, that this was definitely not her, but she couldn’t help it; Alex was beautiful, the way she dressed, the way she talked, the way she laughed…the way she moaned Casey’s name, the way she trembled when Casey’s fingers were inside her, the way she came undone and stared at Casey, looking so beautiful underneath her. It was impossible to not want more of that, she couldn’t get enough, and she knew Alex couldn’t either.

Alex kissed Casey’s naked shoulder as she moved to lay down beside Casey. “You good?”

Casey nodded, clearing her throat as she tried to catch her breath. “Good.”

Alex chuckled softly. “Good.” She laid on her side, staring at Casey.

Casey felt Alex’s eyes on her, making her turn to look at Alex, frowning as a smile appeared on her face. “What?”

“Nothing…you’re just beautiful.” Alex smiled.

Casey’s breath hitched as she stared at Alex, suddenly speechless as she heard the sincerity in her words. “So are you.”

“Thanks.” Alex sighed then, moving to get up from the bed. “Guess this is my cue to leave.”

Casey nibbled on her bottom lip as she sat in bed. “You know…you could…stay. It’s late.”

Alex turned to look at her and smiled softly. “I-“ suddenly her phone went off, making her groan as she stood up and went to find her phone. “Cabot.” She closed her eyes as she sighed. “On my way.” She hung up and turned to look at Casey. “Work.”

Casey sighed. “I understand.” She stared at her the whole time as she collected her clothes and got dressed quickly.

Alex put on her blazer and turned to look at Casey, smiling. “I’ll call you?”

Casey nodded. “Yes.”

Alex bit her lip before she crawled in bed and kissed Casey’s lips. “Sleep well.” She whispered against her lips before she pecked her lips one last time and then grabbed her phone and left the room.

Casey sighed as she heard the door closing, throwing herself back in bed and groaning softly. This was only a hook up. She couldn’t have feelings for Alex, and she didn’t. They just knew each other’s bodies now, they were used to each other, they had a good fuck, and that was it. It was a hook up and nothing more. And it was going to stay that way.

********************

“Heard the news.” Alex grinned as she leaned over Casey’s doorframe.

Casey looked up from her briefcase and smiled, leaning over her desk. “Sorry if I’m gonna take some of your cases.” She grinned.

Alex chuckled as she walked inside, closing the door behind her. “I don’t mind. Not when it’s you.” She grinned.

Casey raised her brow as she bit her lip. “Oh, so if it was someone else, you’d have fought Branch or Liz?” She grinned.

“Maybe.” Alex smirked as she stood in front of Casey, one of her hands going to Casey’s waist and the other stroking her cheek softly. “But now I’ll have you closer.” She whispered softly.

Casey shook her head. “We can’t do this at work, Alex.” She whispered back.

“You sure we can’t?” Alex raised her brow.

Casey grinned as she placed her hands on Alex’s waist, turning her so Alex was leaning over her desk, moving her to sit on it. “We can try it then.”

Alex gasped, her hands gripping Casey’s shoulders. “Thought we couldn’t, Novak.” She chuckled.

“Changed my mind.” Casey smiled as she closed the gap between them, moaning as Alex’s hand wrapped around her and her hand went into Casey’s hair to pull her impossibly closer.

Alex started moving her hands down to Casey’s front, but her phone interrupted them once again. She broke the kiss and leaned her head on Casey’s chest. “Not again.” She whispered.

“Duty calls.” Casey chuckled. She kissed her forehead softly before she stepped away from her. “I need to go to court anyway.”

Alex nodded as she hopped off the desk. “Alright.”

“See you tonight?” Casey smirked. “I’d like to finish what I started.”

Alex grinned. “Sure.” She nodded before she left Casey’s office almost in a hurry, calling Olivia back.

After almost two years of knowing each other, Alex could’ve sworn that there was more between them. Some nights, they stayed in each other’s apartment after many rounds, deciding that it was ‘safer’ for them to not go back to their homes in the early hours. Sometimes they even stayed weekends together, spending the whole day in bed making each other come undone, or just simply talking about everything but nothing at the same time. Alex had been afraid to admit it, she had been in denial for so long, but the reality was…that she was starting to feel something for Casey, and it was so obvious, there was no denial. All those days and nights that they had spent together, all those laughs and smiles they had shared; it wasn’t just a hook up to her, it had become more. But the more they got used to each other, the more she noticed that Casey called her whenever she needed to get off her stress or when she had a bad day. Yes, Alex had done that the first few weeks, but after figuring out that she mostly did it because she wanted to see Casey, it’s when her whole perspective of the situation changed. But she could risk what they had if she said anything, so it was better to keep it to herself and continue as they were. What could possibly go wrong?

And as for Casey, she had been nervous when Branch had called her to his office to let her know that she’d be moving to Sex Crimes with Alex. They had figured out that more than usual, they were loaded with cases and sometimes Alex couldn’t keep up with all of them, so they figured that bringing someone to help wouldn’t be a bad idea. And now she’d be seeing Alex daily, they’d be working together. The idea wasn’t that bad, she already saw Alex daily, but not exactly in the building, now they’d be working together, not only hooking up. She was afraid that the more time they spent together, the more she would let herself get lost, and she couldn’t allow that.

The first few weeks went away so quickly. They had someone fallen into an easy routine and even met up for lunch to help each other out with the cases. Thanks to Alex, Casey was not being accepted by the squad, she knew that they were used to Alex, and Casey somehow worked in her own way and that was something that the squad hadn’t agreed on at the beginning, but with the help of Alex, they were getting used to it. For a moment, she noticed the way that Alex had entirely changed since the first time they had met; she was more…soft. Casey couldn’t deny that she liked it, but she was also not sure that she could buy it. They gave each other what they needed, they gave each other pleasure, they gave each other a space to get off the stress of the day or the week, what they had was nothing but sex. She was sure Alex wanted nothing more than that. And she confirmed it soon enough when she saw her with Olivia.

It was notorious the first day when Olivia was basically pushing away Casey, at first she thought that she had just made a bad impression, but then she saw her with Alex. She acted so differently with her, she got so close to Alex, and Alex to her, and their conversations were so easy, Olivia would do anything that Alex asked her to do, and Alex would give in to whatever Olivia asked from her, but if it was Casey, everything would be different. She noticed the way Alex seemed so relaxed with Olivia, the way she just enjoyed having her in her office, and they could stay there for hours. And that’s when Casey understood, that’s when she confirmed her doubts and answered her own questions; it was only a hook up, nothing more.

Alex smiled as she opened the door to find Casey standing there. “Hey.”

Casey smiled. “Hi.” She walked into the apartment and turned to look at Alex, waiting for her to close the door. She took her coat off and sighed softly. “Day okay?”

“It was.” Alex smiled as she turned to look at Casey. She felt something was off with Casey, so she only stood there and crossed her arms. “Was your day okay?”

“Sure.” Casey smiled. “Should we go ahead?”

Alex furrowed her brows, tilting her head. “Are you in a hurry?”

Casey huffed a chuckle. “C’mon, Alex. We both know why I’m here. So, might as well just save time and get on with it.”

Alex felt like she had been punched right on her chest as she looked at Casey. “Casey…I didn’t call you for that. I just…thought maybe we could just spend the night here instead of going to a bar.”

“We know how that ends anyway, at the bar or here.” Casey shrugged. “Or…did you call me to tell me you don’t wanna do this anymore?”

“I’m…confused as to what is happening right now.” Alex huffed a chuckle as she shook her head. “Did I do or say something?”

Casey nibbled on her lip as she looked away from Alex. “Alex…” she sighed. “Why are we pretending like this is something when we both know this is just a casual thing?” She looked back at Alex. “We’ve been doing this for so long now, we fell into a routine but…the result is the same. We end up in bed and then we start over again.”

“So…it’s just a casual thing.” Alex nodded.

“Isn’t it?” Casey raised her brows. “Tell me I’m wrong. I’m-“ she shook her head as she looked down at her coat. “I don’t really do dating. And since we started this, I made it clear. So yes…it is just sex.” She looked back at Alex with a serious look.

Alex nodded again as she looked away. “I’m glad to know now.”

Casey nodded. “Maybe we should give each other some time.”

“I think you’re right.” Alex bit her lip as she tried to avoid Casey’s stare. “Maybe you should go.”

“Okay.” Casey said softly as she put back her coat, walking to the door. She stopped for a moment to look at Alex who was still looking away. “I’ll…see you at the office.” She said almost in a whisper as she opened the door and left the apartment.

Once she heard the door closing, Alex couldn’t help the tears that rolled down her cheeks. She was afraid that this day would come, and she begged anyone that it would never come, but here she was now. She knew since the first moment that it was wrong to let herself feel anything at all for Casey, she knew that it would hurt at the end, but she still let herself get lost in Casey because she had a bit of hope that maybe, just maybe, she could be wrong and that there was a chance. But there wasn’t. Casey now confirmed it; it had been just sex and nothing more, and there was nothing else she could do about it. She lost what they had…she lost Casey.

#casey novak x alex cabot #casey novak #alex cabot #alexandra cabot #calex fic #casey novak fic #alex cabot fic #calex #svu fic #law and order svu #svu

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wangxianficrecs · 5 months

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the world wags on by justdoityoufucker

�� the world wags on

by justdoityoufucker (orphan_account)

T, 5k, Wangxian & Wei Changze/Lan Qiren

Summary: Wei Ying learns quickly that he cannot be seen by the Jiang. Or, more specifically, he can’t be seen by Madam Yu, who seems to be around the streets of the city more than she ever had been before. Her seeing him will result in the usual spoken barbs, but also in lashings with the sparking purple of Zidian if there are few around. - Or, the one where Wei Changze returns. Kay's comments: Recently re-read this gem and loved it just as much as I did when the story first came out. Having Wei Changze and Lan Qiren getting together works surprisingly well and of course it's a delight to have Wei Ying grow up in Gusu, as a Lan. It starts out heart-breaking and then it turns out so soft and the petty part of me enjoyed watching the Jiangs flounder as well. Excerpt: Qiren looks as if he’s seen a ghost when the disciple leads Wei Changze into his office, dropping his brush. In a way, he has seen a ghost. “Changze,” he gasps, stumbling to his feet, nearly overturning his desk in his haste, “you—how? The boy??” “She’s gone, a-Ren,” and he can’t keep the grief out of his voice. He’s had five years, yes, but really he’s only had the past week. “I almost died during the hunt; I didn’t remember anything—not until a week ago. a-Ying—” He almost feels like he’s going to collapse if he has to think about what a-Ying went through for months, years, when he should’ve been loved and cared for. “Sit,” Qiren says, leading him to the table, hand remaining on his arm as if when he lets go, Wei Changze will disappear again. “a-Ren, they threw him out,” he says, because he has not been able to talk about this with anyone else and he cannot hold back any longer. “Fengmian didn’t even know if he still lived; my son, like he was naught but some trash!”

pov wei changze, canon divergence, pov wei wuxian, wei changze lives, lan qiren/wei changze, somebody lives/not everybody dies, dysfunctional jiang family, jiang family bashing, past child abuse, parent-child relationship, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, childhood friends

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

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mae-i-scribble · 4 months

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Seeing that one reblog of yours about the manhwa I Became The Male Lead's Adopted Daughter really intrigued me! Is it a good one? 👀

Funny story about that, after your reblog brought the post to my attention again and after talking with a friend on discord about stories that subvert tropes I just went back and reread that entire manhwa up to the end of season 2 so this is great timing XD. Im summary: It's absolutely worth your time if you're a fan of father/isekaied daughter fantasy, if you're an isekai manhwa fan in general, or if you just want a well made fantasy father daughter story. Its fantastical concepts are handled with a grounded maturity that most stories in the same genre just don't manage to pull off because it takes the time to truly flesh out its characters as human being first and any tropes last.

The long story is below the cut, I'll be discussing vague spoilers throughout seasons 1 and 2. (side note, im using the official TL names for this bc i like em better)

I Became the Male Lead's daughter has a lot going for it, first of which being Pelliot, the cold duke of the north who adopts Lionia from the orphanage. Most manhwa of this nature have the isekaied person be our main pov with brief glimpses into the parent's perspective, usually done more for plots sake or to comment on how strange the isekaied child is acting. Pelliot shares the protagonist spotlight with Lionia because this story is about both of them concurrently- in fact, we don't even get a look int Lionia's head to find out she's been isekaied until chapter 8(i think, either way its after chapter 5). Before that we get to know her from how Pelliot and the people at the estate see her. Which is such a refreshing take for me, especially when you consider that Pelliot while a stereotypical "violent and competent northern duke who becomes a parent" in theory, is actually played out in a grounded way. The reason he even wanted a child is because he's feeling lonely and he sees how his best friend (yes!! our cold duke has friendships!! and they're super sweet!!) is so happy with 2 children, that he goes about getting a child in the most pragmatic way possible. He is violent and regularly commits war crimes, but he isn't cruel to his staff or his knights as is standard fair for these archetypes. (Can't say the manhwa avoids classist tropes, but such is the way when you have noble protagonists and don't want to make them look complicit in a degrading class system but overall things are handled well enough in that regard). Pelliot, in his fatherhood, also avoids falling into trope traps yet again by being a very believable first time parent. He struggles to adjust to Lionia's emotional needs but is learning, he goes to his knights for advice, he's studying Lionia and trying to make sure she gets a proper childhood and does his best to protect her from further exposure to violence beyond what happens with the abusive orphanage staff. They have a believable banter and play off each other to a scary degree, and while he loves her and worries for her he isn't an overbearing protective trope either. I feel like this is already too long but like. He's such a cool protag to have in a genre that tends to have very narrow and singular dynamics of parent/child relationships. And this isn't even talking about the other relationships we see him have with his peers which are just as good.

Moving onto our other protagonist, Lionia, the post made by @living-as-the-enemy-prince HERE (which clearly you have read but in case other curious souls want to look at it) sums a large part of what makes her work. This is a story that fully realizes its concept to the most effective degree. And I love in turn the story addresses the trauma that comes with being reincarnated- not only from a "i miss my home and family and friends" but from the inherent trauma of being an adult only to one day become a child. Lionia didn't get a chance to rest, she was thrown into a life of abuse, all her agency stolen from her, forced to look after the other orphans because she was the only one who could thus she felt responsible. That sort of disruptive event isn't something that can be brushed off, and it shows in the way Lionia is deeply insecure about her relationship to Pelliot. In this way their dynamic is made equivalent from both sides- in many stories its almost one sided, with the parent figuring out this relationship naturally and the isekaied child playing things 'for the story' and only recognizing the relationship theyve built later (thank you wmmap for helping solidify that -_-). It's truly so well thought out and every aspect of the central relationship feels so natural.

As for the story at large, I'm very excited to see what the plot has in store. As of season 2 of the manhwa, we're only just starting to kick things off plot wise, up until now its been far more concerned with relationship building and giving us a foundation on these characters. But things are definitely cooking now that we've heard mention Baria- the protagonist of the novel Lionia read in her past life (I could probably write another blurb about how well that is being handled but this post is so long already so). On that note though, don't be worried about that "oh but i have to follow the original plot against all common sense and reason" trope bc that doesn't matter at all here. Lionia has her concerns when it comes to the story, some of her insecurities stem from the fact that Pelliot never had a daughter in it, mentioned or otherwise, but at the end of the day she doesn't give a shit, she just wants her dad to have a happy and peaceful life.

Tbh anyone who hasn't read this should absolutely give it a chance bc I haven't even mentioned half the things I find cool about it like all the side characters that I love or the empress storyline that I am eyeing with extreme interest, etc etc

#I became the male lead's adopted granddaughter #manhwa #mae rambles #i hold a lot of love in my heart for this so i just went a wittle crazy

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haleyhunwritess · 2 years

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HIIII❤️ Would you write something with dark!nat and like soft!dark!bucky as caregivers? or like nat is the caregiver but bucky also wants to be a part of their dyanmic but reader doesn't want that so she punishes her and she's very abusive but finally bucky comes in to stop her and she accepts him?💟

Bunny

warnings: dark themes, dark!nat x little!reader, soft!dark bucky x little reader, kindaabusive behaviour from nat, reader passes out, dd/lg + md/lg themes

a/n: okay this has been in my drafts for a while now but i added some stuff to it to kinda fit the request. please reblog, comment, and like to support if you can, i would really appreciate it 🥺🥺❤️

"Stop it! Stop, stop, it hurts! It h-" You were cut off with another blow to your head as you tried to get up from the bed. There were was no use in begging her for mercy because it didn't seem like she was going to show you any. After enduring her torture for about another hour, you finally passed out on the bed. Natasha finally stopped when she noticed you stopped struggling against her. She cupped your delicate face with her hands, roughly pushing it away when she realized you passed out.

Nat walked out of the room and went to downstairs to cool off. She was so angry that you weren't more accepting of Bucky as another caregiver for you. You always loved spending time with him, especially when she first forced brought you to her place. You'd been so scared of her but after talking to Bucky you began to soften up to her, letting her take care of you, taking care of her especially after a hard day, letting her baby you and treat you the way you should be treated. She just wanted to repay him for his kindness. All that he asked was to take care care of you, to be involved in this with her, but you just refused.

Nat heard the front door open, but she remained seated on her chair with a drink in her hand. She knew Bucky was coming over, but she wanted to give him good news, not tell him that you were passed out upstairs with a black eye and bruises all over your body. Bucky sat down next to her, taking the drink from her and putting it down on the table.

"She doesn't want me, does she?"

"I don't know how to convince her. She's passed out upstairs with god knows how many bruises on her body because I thought I could get her to agree..." She groaned, looking down at the ground, ashamed of how she treated you.

"Jesus, Nat...you didn't have to do that, I could've waited a bit longer." He grimaced at the thought of her hurting you.

"Yes, but I don't understand why she said no. She clearly loves having you around, sometimes even more than me." She rolled her eyes, and got up to get herself another drink.

Before Bucky could reply, he heard a loud wailing coming from the bedroom upstairs. He looked over at Nat, who noticed the high-pitched crying as well. She sighed and continued to make her drink, "Why don't you go? I don't think she wants to see me right now..."

Bucky hesitated before making his way upstairs to your bedroom. He quietly opened the door, not wanting to scare you any more. He walked inside and noticed you were on the bed and your naked body was covered with only a sheet while you were bawling your eyes out. He slowly walked over to you, and grimaced at all the marks Natasha had left on your body.

"Sweetheart? Are you okay?" He whispered as he sat down on the bed to get a proper look at your face.

At first you were startled by his voice, but you still crawled over to him when he held his arms out for you to climb into. He hugged you gently, knowing he had to be careful with all the bruises on your body. He carefully cupped your face and kissed your forehead before letting you go back to resting your head on his shoulders.

"Mommy got real upset with you, didn't she?" He whispered, as she softly sobbed on his shoulder.

She slowly nodded before whispering, "Daddy..."

His brows furrowed when he thought he misheard her. He pulled away from her, making her whimper, "What did you say, love?"

"Daddy, my daddy..." She whispered, blushing and looking away from him.

"Oh, love...yes daddy is here. Daddy is right here, not going anywhere." He smiled, kissing her cheek and hugging her tightly.

#dark!bucky barnes #dark!natasha x reader #dark!natasha romanoff x reader #soft!dark bucky x reader #daddy!bucky #daddy!bucky x reader #mommy!nat #natasha x little!reader #daddy!bucky x little!reader #soft!dark!natasha

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bellaireland1981 · 1 year

Text

Starting Over | 8

Summary: You come home to work to find your husband of three years in bed with your supposed best friend. It’s the wake up call you finally needed to take your two year old daughter and get the hell out of Texas. With nowhere to go you head to your big brother in San Diego. The sagger squad takes you under their wings, and shows you what having a family means. You get a fresh start… will you find your happily ever after?

Characters: Jake “hangman” Seresin x Sister! Reader, Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Seresin! Reader (Eventually), Hangman x Phoenix , Adorable OC Gracie! The Dagger squad

Word Count: 10,161

Warnings: Angst, fighting, cheating husband, emotional abuse, eventual fluff, smut in later chapters, Sweet uncle Jake, Adorable Rooster with a toddler… if I miss any please let me know.

A/N: I don’t own the characters or storyline for Top Gun Maverick. All OC’s are mine. I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR ANYONE TO COPY OR REPOST MY WORK TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM! DON’T STEAL! Reblogs, likes and comments ALWAYS welcomed. THANK YOU @waywardodysseys and @beyondthesefourwalls as always for reading over my work and helping me flush out ideas!!

Taglist is open! If I missed anyone who asked to be tagged, please fill out this GOOGLE FORM to be added. It’s getting to hard to keep track of asks.

CH 1 CH 2 CH 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7

The weekend flew by, with a much needed beach day with the whole squad on Saturday and a relaxing day spent at the house on Sunday. With Trent in jail without the ability to be released on a bond this time, you finally felt like you were able to breathe for the first time since everything started.

Jake decided to still keep his leave time, using it as an opportunity to help you with Gracie so you could start to look into daycares and meet with Penny to figure out hours for the job she’d offered. He was also making you go to UCSD to meet with an admissions representative to look into masters programs for degrees you REALLY wanted and not just something you were forced into. It felt like your life was finally falling into place and everything was going so well… you were almost afraid to trust it.

Tuesday afternoon your lawyer called to let you know that Trent’s hearing was set for the following week. Since the divorce hearing would also be next Tuesday, it appeared as if everything could potentially be over by next week, or at least closer to being over. She reassured you that with this being the second time that he violated the order of protection he would definitely be looking at jail time, just as the officers had said on Friday. She also said that she’d be surprised if he didn’t go ahead and sign off on the divorce and parental rights ahead of the other hearing as his lawyer would most likely advise it. You doubted that though since Trent rarely did anything anyone advised him to do.

“Tulip, I’m going to take Princess G to the park then to get some ice cream.” Jake said, bringing Gracie into the living room after her nap. “I think Nix is going to try to meet us there. Take some time for yourself this afternoon. Enjoy ‘you’ time.”

“I don’t even know what to do with ‘me’ time.” You laughed.

“Exactly the point.” He said, “Maybe go get your toes painted or whatever girls do. Or go drive to UCSD, or go shopping… get your hair done… just… something that is 100% for YOU Tulip.”

“Ok.” You said, giving in, knowing Jake wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer anyway.

“And do not even THINK about dinner tonight.” He added, “Phoenix and I are stealing this one tonight. Bradley will be coming to get you after he’s off to take you to dinner.”

“I guess you have it all figured out then, huh?” You laughed. “Thank you, Jakey. I love you… and I’m lucky to have you for my big brother.”

“I love you too, Tulip.” He replied. “Alright, Princess G… ready to go to the park? Nix is gonna meet us there!”

“Yes Pwease.” She replied, still sleepily, “Mommy, you go too?”

“No, baby.” you replied, smiling, “You get to have Uncle Jakey all to yourself. Mommy will see you later.”

“Tomorrow morning.” Jake corrected, “We’re going to have a sleepover with Aunty Nix and build forts and watch movies and eat pizza. No mommies allowed.”

“Why no mommies, Unco Jakey?” Gracie asked, looking concerned.

“Because then we couldn’t stay up past bedtime and eat junk food and watch movies IN the fort.” He explained in an exaggerated whisper.

“Otay” She whispered back loudly, “Sowy Mommy!”

“It’s ok, Baby.” You laughed, “You have fun with Uncle Jakey and Aunty Nix.”

“Pack an overnight bag before Bradley picks you up for dinner, Tulip.” Jake said, winking at you.

“Daddy Woosta?” Gracie asked, “I see him too!”

“DADDY Rooster?” Jake asked, smiling widely and looking at you with eyebrows raised.

“She started calling him that Friday night after everything happened…” You explained, “Bradley melted… I didn’t see a problem…”

“I like it.” Jake said, “I approve, just so you know.”

“How about we stop over after dinner to check on the fort building, Baby Girl?” You suggested.

“Yes!” She said, excited, “I wuv him. We call him?”

“Princess G, Daddy Rooster is flying in his plane right now. Mommy will make sure he comes to see you later, ok?” Jake suggested..

“Otay!” She agreed, “We go park now?”

“Sure can,” Jake said, “Let me grab your bag, Princess.”

“Come give Mommy big hugs, Baby girl!” You said, taking her from Jake so he could go get her stuff packed. “Be good for Uncle Jakey and Aunty Nix, Ok?”

“Otay, Mommy.” She promised, hugging you, “I wuv you.”

“I love you too, my Baby girl!” You replied, hugging her back. You were thankful she was so little and none of the crap with Trent would have any lasting effects on her. She was a happy and loving little girl, living her best life.

“Alright, Princess G, the park awaits!” Jake said, coming back to the living room. “Have fun, Tulip. Love you” He dropped a kiss on your head, reclaiming Gracie and the two were off on their adventure, leaving you to shake your head and laugh at the closing door on their way out.

You decided to go get a pedicure before heading to the Hard Deck to talk to Penny about finally taking her up on her offer of the part time job handling the books and inventory, freeing her up to take time away from the bar during the day occasionally. You would work 3 days a week, leaving you enough time to take classes if you decided to pursue a master’s degree. You were still undecided on that for the time being. You had enough changes happening, enough on your plate…you were afraid to make any more decisions of that magnitude. You did promise Jake you’d talk to someone from the university to get options and you would, but you weren’t sure you were quite ready to actually pursue the degree yet. You DID need to find a daycare though for Gracie. You knew it would be good for Gracie to have other kids to play with the few days a week you’d be working.

You had just left the Hard Deck and were heading to your car when Bradley called.

“Hey, Sweetheart.” He said. You could hear the smile in his voice. “I’m finishing up here then I’ll be over to get you. Jake talk to you?”

“Yup.” You laughed. “He told me he’s having a sleepover with Gracie and Nix and no mommies allowed because then they can’t stay up late, sleep in forts and watch movies.”

“Sounds about right.” He chuckled, “Mommies are definitely allowed at my sleepover. We can build our own fort, Sweetheart.”

“I think I like sleepovers with you.” You replied, “Gracie requested a visit from Daddy Rooster.”

“I REALLY love that title,” He rasped, his voice full of emotion, “I absolutely need to see my girl tonight.”

“Jake approves of the title too.” You informed him. “I promised her we’d stop.”

“I’m walking out of here in 10 minutes tops so I’ll be there in about 20.” He said, “Do you want me to pick up take out and we eat at my place or go out somewhere?”

“I like the idea of staying in, actually.” You replied, “You make fort building sound very appealing.”

“I’ll see you soon, Sweetheart.” He laughed, “Drive safe going home.”

“You too.” You replied.

You got home and decided to jump in the shower quickly before changing into a sundress and a pair of sandals. Jake and Nix ended up getting back with Gracie as you were coming out of your room before Bradley made it over.

“Mommy!” Gracie exclaimed, running over to you, arms up for you to lift her up. “We pway at the park! And eat ice cweam!”

“Wow!” You said, “What sounds like so much fun! Were you good for Uncle Jakey and Aunt Nix?”

“Yup!” She nodded her head. “I good!”

“Of course!” Phoenix said, “She was fantastic! We had fun, didn’t we, Sweet girl?”

“Yes! Now we make forts!” She informed you, “Mommy, where Daddy Woosta?”

“He’ll be here soon, Baby girl.” You said kissing her head and setting her down, “He’s so excited to see you.”

“Let’s go get you washed up for dinner, quickly Princess G” Jake said, taking her hand and leaning her back to the bathroom to wash her hands.

“Daddy Rooster?” Phoenix gushed, “That’s absolutely adorable.”

“I KNOW!” You exclaimed, “He turned to a puddle when she said it. She just spontaneously busted out with it.”

“How do you feel about it?” She asked

“I’m completely ok with it.” You replied, “You don’t think it’s too soon do you?”

“Sweetie, I think there is no timetable for these things.” She replied, “If you, as her mom, are ok with it, and Rooster, the person on the receiving end of it, is ok, and Gracie is obviously ok… then I say… Daddy Rooster has a new title.”

“Nat, I am 100% gone for that man.” You confided in her, “I know I should feel guilty since I’m legally married to another but my heart fully belongs to Bradley.”

“We all kinda figured that one out already,” She laughed. “But I’m glad to know you’re aware. He feels the same, just so you know. Just promise that you won’t get tied down by timetables or what you think social norms dictate. Do what feels right to you and Bradley and what’s best for Gracie.”

“I promise.” You said.

Bradley arrived not long after. Jake had just finished getting Gracie cleaned up when he came through the front door.

“Daddy Woosta!” She exclaimed, barreling through the living room and straight into Bradley’s arms. He’d dropped down to his knees to be at her level and swooped her up. “I wuv you.”

“Hi Princess.” He said, kissing the top of her head, “I love you too, my girl.”

“You sweep ova wif me?” She asked him sweetly.

“How about we have a sleep over another night, Princess?” He countered, “I hear you have a super fun sleepover with forts planned with Uncle Jake and Aunty Nix tonight.”

“Otay.” She agreed. “And Mommy too?”

“And Mommy too.” He promised.

“Alright, Princess G.” Jake said, “Ready to start our super fun sleepover?”

“Yes!” She exclaimed, then turned to kiss Bradley on the cheek and hug him before wiggling out of his arms and running to say goodbye to you. “Wuv you Mommy! Wuv you Daddy Woosta!”

“Love you too, Baby girl.” You replied, hugging her and kissing her. “Be good for Uncle Jakey and Aunty Nix, and Mommy will see you tomorrow morning.”

“Otay, Mommy.” She said before running over to Phoenix.

“Ready to go, Sweetheart?” Bradley asked, his hand coming up to rest on the small of your back.

“Yup.” You replied, smiling, “Overnight bag packed, as ordered by my dear sweet brother who said no mommies allowed at their super fun sleepover…. I’m all yours, Lieutenant Bradshaw.”

“Well, then it’s a very good thing that mommies are very much allowed at my super fun sleepover tonight.” He winked, grabbing your overnight bag and guiding you out of the front door.

Back at Bradley’s the two of you ate the take out that he’d picked up before picking you up. Afterwards he sent you to change into comfy clothes while he constructed the promised fort in the middle room. You changed out of the dress, putting on the sleep shorts you’d packed, but opting instead to pull on one of Bradley’s well worn Navy t-shirts. You pulled your hair into a messy bun on top of your head before making your way out to the living room.

“That’s some impressive fort building, Lieutenant.” You said, walking into the room. He’d moved around some of the furniture to make room for the fort, using the dining room chairs and couch as the structure to drape the blankets over.

“Wait until you see the inside, Sweetheart.” He said, smiling. “You look really good in my shirt, too.”

“Thanks.” You beamed, “It looked more comfortable than the one I brought with me.”

“You can wear my clothes anytime.” He said. “Come on inside our very own fort.”

You walked around to the opening in the front where he was holding the blanket open for you. You crouched down and crawled inside to find more blankets laid out on the floor with pillows to keep you both comfortable. He’d found and strung up some battery operated fairy lights to give you some light inside the fort as well as a couple of the flameless battery operated candles. He had his laptop opened for you to watch a movie on and a variety of snacks as well.

“Bradley.” You laughed, “How in the hell did you get this all set up in the short time I was changing?”

“I may have had everything already set up and ready to go…” He replied, a blush creeping up his neck to his cheeks. “Jake and I hashed this plan out yesterday. I ran home at lunch instead of actually eating lunch.”

“Bradley!” You admonished, “Please tell me you didn’t fly without proper nutrition? The only thing worse than you eating vending machine food for lunch is you eating no lunch at all!”

“I grabbed a bag of chips and a granola bar.” He shrugged. “I was ok.”

“You will either bring your sexy ass to the house tomorrow on your lunch to get a proper meal or I will make Jake bring me to the base to deliver the lunch to you.” You informed him

“You like my ass, huh Sweetheart?” He asked, smirking at you, settling against the pillows piled up and pulling you down with him. You settled between his legs, resting your back against his chest.

“That’s what you got from that? You laughed, “But for the record, I do like your ass.”

“For the record, I think everything about you is sexy as hell, Sweetheart.” He said, his voice right by your ear, sending shivers down your body. He had changed into gray Navy sweats, and you were discovering how soft they were against your skin as you ran your palms over his legs.

“So what’s the plan for this super fun sleepover tonight?” You asked, tilting your head back to look up at him.

He leaned his head down, connecting his lips to yours, his arms already wrapped around your middle, fingers splayed wide over your torso.

“The plan is to keep you locked in my arms, while we watch a movie and relax in our super cool fort here.” He said, using his face to nudge your head to the side and drop kisses on and nip at your neck, “Hopefully with a little bit of making out with my girl thrown in.”

“I like that plan.” You replied smiling. “Your girl, huh?”

“Baby, Gracie is literally calling me ‘Daddy Rooster’.” He laughed, “We’re gonna have a very sad little girl if you’re not my girl.”

You turned around so that you were facing him, straddling him and wrapping your arms around his neck, your fingers working into his hair at the nape of his neck.

“I am absolutely yours.” You said without hesitation. “Gracie and I are both yours if you want us. I know we still have a few hurdles to jump and definitely come with some baggage, but …”

“Sweetheart, there is nothing I want more.” He said, interrupting you, his lips finding yours, his hands moving to your hips to anchor you to him. His tongue snaked out, licking over your lower lip seaking entrance. You opened, allowing him in, your own tongue moving to meet his, tasting one another. His hands moved over your back before dropping down to the hem of the t-shirt and moving up and under, until his hands connected with your bare skin. You gasp, burying your fingers deeper into his hair, and grinding down onto him as you deepen the kiss.

“Shit, Sweetheart.” He groans as your core rubs against his semi hardened cock. “You feel so fucking good.”

You continue to move against him, knowing you would need to stop, but not ready to lose this feeling just yet. You kiss your way to his neck, tracing over the scars with your tongue, causing a shiver to move over his whole body. He groans deeply, his hands moving over you feverishly, pulling you closer.

“Mmm” You moaned, panting, “Bradley, as much as I desperately want to continue this, we need to hit the breaks.”

“I know.” He agreed, sucking air into his own lungs, using his hands to gently still your movement, giving him a moment to collect himself. “Just need a minute here, Sweetheart.”

“I want the first time we’re together to be when I’m able to freely give every piece of myself to you, without any legalities standing in the way.” You said quietly, “He doesn’t get to taint anything between us.”

“There’s no way he could taint anything we have, Sweetheart” Bradley assured you, pulling you down against him again, “I would happily wait forever for you.”

You both sat together, recovering from the heavy makeout session for several moments before you were once more tucked with your back against his chest, nestled between his legs with his laptop propped up on the coffee table so you could watch a movie together.

The next morning, you made Bradley breakfast and packed him a lunch while he was getting ready for work.

“I could definitely get used to this.” He smiled, walking into the kitchen.

“Something other than cold cereal or frozen waffles for breakfast?” You asked, smiling at him over your shoulder, soaking in the sight of him in his flightsuit.

“Getting to wake up with you, getting ready for work knowing you’re in the same house…” He replied, wrapping his arms around you from behind and kissing your neck, just under your ear. “And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little bit excited about this amazing breakfast you’ve made.”

“I knew it was the food.” You teased, rolling your eyes. He easily spun you around in his arms and dropped his head down to capture your lips with his own in a heated kiss.

“Now THAT is how I need to start every day.” He said, once you’d both had to pull away to breathe.

“No arguments from me.” You replied, “Let’s get you fed, fly boy. You need to get to work and I’ve got an appointment to check out a daycare for Gracie today.”

“How do you feel about that?” He asked, carrying plates to the table. You joined him at the table, sitting down next to him while you both dug into the omelettes you’d made.

“It’ll only be part time.” You said, “It makes me nervous, but I know she needs to be with kids, and I need to get out and be around adults… work. Eventually, I’ll maybe look at going back for my master’s degree. One step at a time.”

“Do you want me to go with you?” He offered, “I can get one of the others to cover my class this afternoon. I’m sure Mav will be fine with it.”

“You’re perfect and amazing for offering.” You answered, offering a smile, “I’ll be ok though. I’ll actually probably need you more next week at the court hearing if you’re able to get off for that… if you want that is…”

“Sweetheart, that’s already a done deal.” He replied. “I already have the entire week for leave. Mav put it in for me before last Friday and I told him to leave it. There’s no way in hell I’d let you face that alone. I know you’ll have Jake… but you have me now too.”

“Thank you.” You said, relieved to know he’d be there with you.

“You absolutely do not need to thank me for that, Baby.” He replied, leaning over to kiss your forehead, “We’re officially a team.”

After finishing breakfast, Bradley grabbed his flight bag and the two of you headed out to the Bronco. He drove you home on his way to the base, which was not actually on his way to the base at all.

“In hindsight, I should have just met you over her last night.” You laughed, when he parked in the driveway. “You’re going to be so late, Bradley!”

“Worth it.” He replied, leaning over to kiss you, “Give my Princess hugs and kisses for me?”

“I will.” You promised, “If you’re not doing anything tonight, do you want to come over after work for dinner?”

“As long as you’re not sick of met yet.” He teased, “Jake’s probably ready to boot me to the curb.”

“He’s too busy with Nat to even notice.” You laughed, “But he doens’t mind because he just wants Gracie and me to be happy… and we are.”

“Good.” He smiled widely, “Mission accomplished. I’ll see you after work, Sweetheart.”

“Fly safe.” You said, leaning in to kiss him again.

“Always.” He promised.

The visit the daycare went really well. Gracie loved the room and teacher she’d be with and had already made a friend. Jake had gone with and had asked all the pertinent safety questions setting your own mind at ease. You knew that Trent would definitely be spending the foreseeable future in jail but for your own sanity you needed a plan in place. The daycare had strict policies for who was allowed in and out and nobody was allowed to pick up a child that wasn’t on that child’s list.

After going through the center, Jake kept Gracie busy while you filled out the needed paperwork to enroll her.

“Jakey I’m adding you as emergency contact.” You told him, writing down his contact information.

“Add Rooster too.” He replied, flashing a knowing smile.

“Shouldn’t I ask him before I add his name?” You asked. “That seems like basic etiquette.”

“Tulip, she calls him Daddy Rooster, and he’s perfectly fine with it… in fact, he actually loves it.” Jake said, “I highly doubt he’ll be upset about being added as Princess G’s emergency contact. I’d be willing to bet he’d be upset if he WASN’T added.”

“You’re probably right.” You laughed, “Ok, Bradley is being added… but what do you suggest I put down as the relationship?”

“Daddy Woosta?” Gracie asked, “I see him?”

“We’ll go see him after we leave here, Princess.” Jake promised, “You heard the Princess. He’s Daddy Woosta.”

“Jake, I cannot put that on here.” You laughed.

“Put down, Dad.” He said, “It’ll make one less thing to change later. And on the pick up list, you might want to add the whole squad.”

“I am not imposing on them by having them pick up Gracie.” You argued.

Jake pulled out his phone, typing out a text before tucking his phone back into his pocket. You continued to fill out the paperwork, trying to hurry now that you knew you’d be heading to base to see Bradley afterwards.

Jakes phone dinged, then your own phone rang with an incoming FaceTime call. Looking at the caller ID you saw it was Nat. You glared at Jake before quicking answering. As soon as the call went through you saw it wasn’t just Nat. The entire dagger squad, minus Jake was staring back at you, giving you ‘the look’.

“Hi guys…” You said. “How’s your day going?”

“Imposing on us?” Nat asked indignantly.

“There’s a question of even adding us to the pick up list?” Coyote asked, “I’m hurt, Y/N.”

“Sweetheart…” Bradley started.

“Oh you’re already emergency contact, Man.” Jake called, “Only hiccup was she didn’t know what to put for the relationship.”

“I’m good then!” He beamed, “And Daddy Rooster is my title, Sweetheart.”

“Not putting that on the paperwork, Bradley.” you laughed.

“I told her to shorten it.” Jake added.

“Sweetheart, just put down whatever you’re comfortable with.” Bradley said, smiling at you. Phoenix took her phone back from him so you were looking at her.

“Hey, seriously, Y/N.” She said, “Add us all to the pick up list. You never know when you’ll need someone to get her and this way you’re covered. You know we’re all trustworthy… some more than others of course… but we all love that little girl. Now, finish filling out the paperwork and bring her to us…”

“Yes, ma’am.” You replied, laughing. After hanging up, you quickly finished the paperwork. You decided to put down Daddy under the relationship and when you handed the paperwork to the director you explained the situation. She smiled and reassured you that yours wasn’t the first nor the last unconventional family to come through the center and the most important thing was that Gracie was clearly surrounded by people who loved hear dearly.

Confident that you’d made the right choice, you all left, with a list of supplies she’d need for her first day the following week.

You made your way to the base, stopping for lunch on the way so that you can feed Gracie. You knew that once you lef the base she’d need a nap.

“Ready to go see Daddy Rooster, Princess G?” Jake asked, as he was waved through the guard gate on base.

“Yes!” She exclaimed happily from her carseat. “Daddy Woosta! We see Aunty Nix too?”

“We sure will, Sweet girl!” You promised, “Everyone is waiting and so excited to see you!”

Jake drove around to the front of the hangar and parked his truck next to Bradley’s Bronco.

“Mommy!’ Gracie yelled from the backseat, “Dat’s Daddy Woosta’s Bwoo twuck!”

“It is!” You confirmed, “And here he comes now.” Bradley was making his way out of the building, too impatient to wait for you all to come inside. Phoenix, apparently just as impatient, but whether it was to see Gracie or Jake you weren’t entirely sure. You unbuckled your seatbelt and got out of the truck as Bradley got to you.

“Hey, Sweetheart.” He said, wrapping arm around your waist and lowering his head to kiss you softly. “I missed you.”

“It’s only been a few hours,” You reasoned, kissing him back, “But I missed you too.”

“Where’s my girl?” He asked, opening the back door to the truck. “There’s my princess!”

“Daddy Woosta!” Gracie exclaimed, squirming in her seat, making grabby hands towards Bradley. He quickly unbuckled her carseat and pulled her out of the truck. She threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. He hugged her back, dropping a kiss in her soft curls.

“I missed you, Princess.” Bradley said, pulling back to look at her, “Did you have fun today?”

“I miss you too.” She said, “Yes! I go pway and Mommy and Unco Jakey ask wots of stuffs!”

“We were thorough.” Jake shrugged, smiling when nugged him. “Not just anyone can take care of Princess G.”

“They have tight security protocols in place?” Bradley asked

“Nobody is allowed inside the center that isn’t on the list. There’s a bell with a camera out front you have to ring in unless you have a keycard. If your name isn’t on the list of approved pick up and you don’t have proper ID you aren’t allowed to take the child from the property.” Jake confirmed, “If an attempt is made by a non-approved pick up person, the parents are notified as are the authorities if there is an order of protection in place.”

“Perfect.” Bradley said approvingly, “So our Princess will be nice and safe while she’s not in with us. Did you like the kids and your new classroom, Princess?”

“Yes!” She squealed, “I have fwends! Mommy says I go back and pway!”

“Next week you’ll go back and Mommy will go to work.” You said.

“How about this weekend, Mommy and I take you to go buy a backpack perfect for a Princess?” Bradley asked. “You’ll need a backpack to carry all your pretty pictures that you color at daycare home in.”

“Yes!” Gracie agreed, happily.

“Hey!” Coyote yelled through the open door, “The rest of the squad and Mav are wondering why you’re keeping our little Gracie Nugget out here and not sharing her? It’s rude.”

“He’s right.” Phoenix agreed, reaching over to take Gracie from Bradley. “It is rude. Come on, Sweetie, let’s go play with the rest of the squad. They’re more fun.”

Friday night the squad descended on the house for the weekly dinner. While you were normally the one that did the majority of the cooking, this time, they’d all pulled together and organized amongst themselves to pull off the dinner so that you just got to sit back and take it all in. Unfortunately you weren’t very good at doing nothing, so you found yourself full of nervous energy.

“Sweetheart, you running back and forth to refill stuff defeats the purpose of us all taking care of you for a change.” Bradley said gently, reaching for the bowl of cut up fruit in your hand.

“I don’t know if you noticed, but I kinda suck at doing nothing, Bradley.” You sighed, “I also don’t do so well stayin’ out of my head when I’m not busy…”

“Come here,” He said, pulling you into his arms. You wrapped your own around his middle, resting your head against his chest. “I know telling you it’s going to be ok isn’t helpful. The anxiety is real, you’ve been living in this limbo for too long. But I WILL tell you, you are not alone. I am here. Jake is here. The whole team is here.”

“Thank you.” You whispered, “I honestly don’t know what I would do without you, Bradley.”

“Sweetheart, you’re never going to have to find out.” He promised. “I am not going anywhere. I have a strict no return policy, so I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”

“Damnit, Tulip.” Jake teased, coming up behind you, “I told you to read return policies before taking in stray chickens. Now we’re stuck with him”

“You love him and you know it.” Phoenix said, laughing.

“He’s alright.” Jake winked, taking Phoenix’s hand as they walked past into the house.

“He’s an idiot.” You laughed, once they’d gone inside.

“He is.” Bradley agreed, smirking, “But he’s our idiot and we’re stuck with him.”

“We are.” You said, “Wouldn’t want it any other way.”

You spent the weekend getting ready to start your new job at the Hard Deck, which mainly just included making sure Gracie had everything she needed to start daycare. As promised, you and Bradley took Gracie to find the perfect backpack for her. She picked out a Disney Princess backpack (not surprisingly). You let her pick up new toddler panties as she’d done really well with potty training over the last several days. You were hoping it would continue with being at daycare, but you grabbed another pack of pullups just in case.

Sunday Jake and Phoenix one again stole Gracie for the day, taking her to a splash pad and park. Bradley picked you up early and drove you out to a hangar in what appeared to be the middle of nowhere. He got Mav to let him borrow his plane to take you for a ride. It was amazing to be in Bradley’s world, to experience a small part of what he loved.

“That, was AMAZING!” You gushed, once he’d landed and come around to help you down from the plane. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down to connect your lips in a soft kiss. “Thank you for sharing your world with me.”

“Sweetheart, I’ll happily share my entire world with you.” He replied. “I’m glad you enjoyed flying though.”

“I’ve never been in a plane so small before.” You said. “I think I just enjoyed it because I fully trust the Pilot.”

“I’m happy to hear that, Sweetheart,” He laughed, kissing you again. “Ready to head back?”

After securing the plane and locking the hangar up for Mav, Bradley led you to the Bronco, opening the passenger door and helping you in. He made sure to lean over to steal a final kiss before making his way around to the driver’s side.

“How would you feel about us stealing our girl back from Jake and Phoenix and kicking them out for the night?” Bradley asked as you headed back to town from the Hangar. “I think they need a date night. We can spend time with Gracie then once we get her tucked in we can have our own date night in.”

“I love that idea.” You said, smiling over at him. “I really love that you get to take her to her first day of daycare with me tomorrow. I’m going to be an emotional wreck.”

“I’m not sure I won’t be a wreck right along with you, Sweetheart.” He admitted. “Will she go all day?”

“Yeah, she goes Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, while I work.” You said, “I don’t have to be at the bar until 10 though, we’ll have time to recover after dropping her off before I have to go work.”

“I can take you to work and then go take care of some stuff and pick you back up when you’re done.” He offered, “Then we can go get Gracie from daycare after and treat her to ice cream after her first day.”

“Sounds perfect.” You agreed, “Tomorrow night will need to be really low key and an early night. I’m going to be a nervous wreck.”

“Then that’s exactly what we’ll do, Sweetheart.” He said.

When you arrived home, Jake and Phoenix had been happy to take you up on date night, but made it known they would be tagging in for pick up the next day since they’d miss first day drop off. You had a feeling that Gracie’s first day of Kindergarten was going to be whole production.

After lots of extra playtime and Gracie insisting on Daddy Rooster being the one to read her a bedtime story, you had finally gotten her tucked in and off to dreamland. You and Bradley spent the rest of the night cuddled up on the couch watching a movie before heading to bed to fall asleep tucked into one another’s arms.

Monday morning you woke up wrapped in Bradley’s arms, your legs intertwined with his. Not quite ready to leave his embrace, snuggle down further into him, tucking your face back into the crook of his shoulder.

“Morning, Sweetheart.” He chuckled, his voice deep from sleep.

“Five more minutes.” You mumbled into his neck, “I’m too comfy. You’re so warm.”

“No arguments here.” He replied, “The alarm hasn’t gone off yet, so I think we have a few more minutes.”

“I like waking up in your arms.” You said, lifting your head just enough to be heard, “And I sleep better with you… listening to your heartbeat… feeling your warmth, the smell of your body wash mixed with jet fuel…”

“I sleep better with you too, Sweetheart.” He admitted, “And I definitely love waking up with you in my arms. I don’t know if I should be offended by the jet fuel comment thought.”

“NO!” You said, shooting up to look at him, only to see the sparkle of amusement in his eyes. You playfully slapped him and settled back down so you were once more laying on his chest, “You just have a unique scent’s that’s beyond just your body wash and it’s very comforting.”

“You’re cute when you’re riled up.” He laughed. “We should probably get going so we can get our Princess some breakfast and make sure everything is perfect without having to rush.”

“We have to make sure we take picture too.” You reminded him, “Jake made me promise I’d get some since he won’t be home this morning to take them.”

“Let’s rock and roll then, Sweetheart.” He said lifting his head to kiss the top of yours.

The two of you got up and got ready before Bradley headed off to the kitchen to start getting breakfast ready while you went in and got Gracie up.

She was excited to go to her new “school” so she sprung right up and you got her dressed in a pair of cute knit shorts and a Disney Princess t-shirt. She wanted her hair in two pony tails so you pulled her curly hair into two matching pony tails with small purple bows to match her shirt. Once she was dressed you ushered her out to the kitchen to get breakfast.

“There’s my beautiful Princess!” Bradley said when Gracie walked into the kitchen, “Are you hungry baby girl?”

“Yes pwease!” She answered, heading directly to Bradley and lifting her arms up to be picked up. Bradley quickly wiped his hands on the towel and picked her up, covering her face in kisses, causing her to burst into a round of giggles. “Dat tickles Daddy!”

“I had to make sure I gave you lots and lots of kisses to get you through the day!” He explained, “I didn’t want you to run outta power half way through.”

“You siwy!” She laughed, but then leaned forward and placed several kisses on Bradleys face in return. “You have powa now too!”

“Thank you, Princess!” He smiled, “Now I’ll make it all day until I see you again tonight.”

“Alright, my two crazies, time for breakfast.” You said, chucklling at their antics, “We need to get you fed, then Uncle Jakey wants us to take lots of pictures so he can see how pretty and grown up you look heading off to your first day!”

After breakfast you all headed outside to the front porch for pictures you made sure to snap some of just Gracie, then took a few of Gracie with Bradley, he got a few with you and her before finally taking some in selfie mode with all three of you. It may have been a little overkill for just a first day at daycare but it was also the first day of a fresh start of sorts.

Drop off went pretty smooth… as far as Gracie was concerned. She went right in and was excited to play with the kids. You and Bradley managed to hold it together until you were back in the Bronco and then there were a few tears shed.

“We’re going to be absolute wrecks when we take her to kindergarten.” He chuckled, glancing over at you.

“Or when she graduates high school.” You smiled over at him. “Does it seem crazy that we’ve only known one another for a short time but we’re already in so deep… that when I picture the future for Gracie and me, no version of it is without you?”

“Sweetheart, it’s not crazy.” He assure you. “I really believe that when people are meant to be and they find each other time doesn’t matter. We will do this at whatever pace we determine is right.” He turned so that his body was facing you and he took your hands in his own, “And the only future I want is one with you and Gracie. You two are my entire world.”

To keep the emotions from bubbling up you leaned over and connected your lips with his in a gentle kiss. Smiling against him.

“We’re on the same page then.” You said.

You sent several pictures to the group chat while Bradley drove you back home. You got stuff ready for dinner that night before needing to get ready for work. Bradley dropped you off at the Hard Deck, promising to come back as soon as he ran some errands.

Penny showed you the books and the inventory lists on the computer, explaining the system. You spent the afternoon familiarizing yourself with the system and making a list of what was running low and what would be needed sooner rather than later. Bradley arrived a few hours after dropping you off and sat at the bar chatting with Penny until you were ready to head out for the day.

“I think I’ve got a good handle on the current system.” You said coming out to bar area from the back office, “I started a list of what’s running low and can finalize what needs to be ordered on Wednesday when I’m back.”

“Sounds good.” She replied, “So tomorrow morning… what time do you need me there?”

“My lawyer wants to meet before going in, so we need to be at the courthouse at 8.” You replied, “I can’t thank you enough for staying with Gracie, Penny. Just knowing she’s going to be safe and taken care of takes lot off of my shoulders.”

“Sweetie, you do not need to thanke me one bit.” She assured you, “I’m more than happy to spend time with that sweet little girl. You just focus on getting yourself free from that piece of shit and staying strong tomorrow, ok?”

“Ok” You said, smiling. “I can handle that.”

“Perfect.” She said, coming around the bar to wrap you in a hug, “Rooster, take this sweet one home to spend time with her baby and I’ll see you both in the morning.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” He replied wrapping his arm around your waist and guiding you out of the bar.

As per the deal the night before, Jake and Phoenix got to pick up Gracie from daycare and bring her home. They stopped on the way for a slushie to celebrate and to hear all about her first day. When they arrived you had already changed clothes were working in the kitchen on dinner with Bradley.

“Mommy, we home!” Gracie called when they arrived. You could hear Jake prompting her to take off her shoes and little backpack before she came running to the kitchen.

“How was your first day of daycare, Sweet Girl” You asked, wiping your hands of and scooping her up into your arms. “Did you have so much fun?”

“Yes!” She confirmed, “I dwawed, pwayed, and wead books!”

“That sounds like a very full day!” Bradley said, stepping over and kissing her head, “Did you have enough power?”

“Yes!” She laughed, holding her hands out to Bradley, who immediately pulled her into his arms.

“I missed you today, Princess.” He said, giving her snuggles.

“I missed you too, Daddy Woosta.” She replied, hugging him back tightly.

“How did pick up go?” You asked, as Jake and Phoenix walked into the kitchen, “Did they give you any trouble?”

“Nope.” Jake smiled, “They remembered me from last week and I have the card so no issues. They said she had a fantastic day. Already making lots of new friends.”

“Are we surprised?” You asked, laughing, “She’s one hundred percent her uncle when it comes to being an extrovert.”

“We may need to work on the whole ‘stranger danger’ thing with her.” Jake acknowledged, “She’s probably a little too friendly.”

That night you and Bradley both tucked Gracie into bed after reading her a book and going through the nightly routine of bathtime and snuggles with Uncle Jakey while watching one episode of whatever classic cartoon Jake managed to find for that night. He was determined that Gracie would be exposed to all of the great classic cartoons we’d grown up on.

“Sweet dreams, Princess.” Bradley said, leaning down to kiss her forehead, “I love you.”

“I wuv you too, Daddy Woosta.” She replied softly, smiling at him. He stood up and made room for you to move in to sit next to her.

“I love you Sweet Girl.” You said, leaning down to hug her and kiss her, “Sweetest of dreams, Baby.”

“Wuv you, Mommy” She replied, hugging you back.

The next morning you were on autopilot getting ready. Bradley and Jake did their best to make sure you at least tried to eat some breakfast but your anxiety was really high and the thought of food made you want to throw up.

“Tulip, you need to eat something.” Jake said, “Even if it’s just toast. If you don’t, you’ll pass out in court.”

“He’s right, Sweetheart.” Bradley agreed, “Maybe eat a slice of toast and a half of banana.”

“Mommy, you sick?” Gracie asked, concerned, not knowing what was happening but picking up on something being off with her adults.

“No, Sweet Girl.” You reassured her, forcing a small smile, “Mommy just has butterflies in her belly this morning.”

“Mommy, you siwy” She giggled, “You eat my nana?”

“That’s so sweet of you, Baby,” you smiled, “You need to eat your banana so you have energy to play with Penny today. Mommy will get another banana ok?”

Penny arrived not long after and quickly took over with Gracie so that the three of you could get out the door.

Jake sent a text to everyone letting them know you were headin the courthouse so they could plan their arrival accordingly. You didn’t know but they’d all made arrangements to take the day off to there to support you. Mav had put in a word with the higher ups to get it approved.

“It’s going to be OK, Tulip.” Jake said confidently, standing outside of the courthouse. “No matter the outcome of today’s hearing, in the end, it’s all going work out. Keep your head up, we’ve all got you.”

“We’re right here by your side, Sweetheart.” Bradley added, “Not going anywhere, no matter what happens. None of us are.”

“There’s zero chance I’d make it through this without you guys.” You said, your voice shaky with emotion. “Thank you both for being my strength when I’m not so sure I can be strong on my own.”

“Y/N Seresin you are the strongest woman I know.” Jake said, “Even when you don’t believe it. You’d be just fine on your own, but you’ll never have to find out. We love you and we’ll always have your back.”

“Every one of us.” Phoenix said walking over to you. You turned to see the entire Squadron and Mav waking up. Overwhelmed by the outpouring of love and support from your new found family you turned into Bradley’s embrace and burst into tears. Knowing the reason behind the tears, Jake added his support hugging you from behind, sandwhiching you in the middle of himself and Bradley. The rest of team formed a huddle, essentially forming one giant group hug.

“I can add this to the list of unexpected experiences.” Jake joked, trying to ease your anxiety. “Glad I showered this morning.”

You let you a laugh, muffled by Bradley’s chest. The squad started to separate allowing you to take a step back and look at everyone.

“Y’all are the best.” You said, “Obviously I can’t even put into words how much this means to me that you’re all here.”

“Nowhere we’d rather be.” Phoenix said smiling, slipping her hand into Jake’s.

“And that’s saying a lot coming from a bunch of aviators who’d always rather be in the air than on the ground.” Coyote added. “But you don’t mess with one of our own without getting all of us.”

“We should get inside, Ms. Kennedy wants meet with Tulip before going in.” Jake said, ushering everyone toward the entrance.

Bradley took your hand walking along side you into the building. Once inside you all had to go through security and then were directed toward the correct courtroom. Lauren was waiting outside when you all got there.

“Good morning, Y/N.” Lauren greeted, smiling,“Looks like you have your whole support system in attendance today.”

“Yes, ma’am.” You smiled back, “My family has expanded over the last month. I’m very lucky to have them all in my corner.”

“You can never have too many in your corner.” She said, “If you want to come on into the conference room with me, we can go over what to expect today.”

“We’ll go in and get seated, Y/N.” Mav said, “Keep your chin up, Kid. You’ve got this.”

“Thank you, Mav.” You replied, smiling at him, then you turned to Lauren, “Can Jake and Bradley come in with us?”

“Absoultely.” She replied, leading the way into the conference room a few doors down from the courtroom you’d be in shortly. “Jake, I’ve met, Bradley, you I’ve only heard about. You were there both times Trent showed up and broke the court order?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Bradley replied, “It’s nice to meet you. Thank you for everything you’re doing for Y/N and Gracie.”

“It’s absolutely my pleasure.” She replied, “I’m glad Y/N has such an amazing support team. I take it, you’ve take my advice then and have started living again, Y/N?”

“Yes.” You replied, looking over at Bradley and smiling. “We were actually coming back from our first date when Trent showed up the first time. Things have progressed since then.”

“Good. You look happy,” She observed, “You deserve to be happy. How’s Gracie doing, she’s pretty little, so I’m guessing she’s pretty resilient and not aware of everything going on around her.”

“She’s great.” You beamed, “She picks up on when emotions are running high. She knew something was wrong when Trent showed up and Nat sent her out to get Jake and Bradley. But she’s a happy little girl that makes friends wherever she goes.”

“She’s already claimed Bradley as her own.” Jake added, winking at you. “She’s got the whole squadron wrapped around her little Princess finger.”

“She owns me.” Bradley admitted, chuckling. Looking at you, smiling he added, “Her momma does too.”

“Alright, that’s exactly what I love to hear.” Lauren said, smiling at the three of you. “Let’s make sure when we leave here today we have all the loose ends tied up to allow you to move foreward with your new family, Y/N.”

“Is that a possibility?” You asked, afraid to get your hopes up. “I figured Trent would do something to drag it all out somehow.”

“In this case, his actions have tied his hands. Literally and figuratively.” She said. “He’s established that he’s verbally abusive and left marks on you while trying to forceuflly remove you from your residence against your will. You’re not asking for anything other than what you left Texas with. You’ve got the order of protection that was violated twice… Sweetie, the odds are in your favor that the judge will happily grant you the divorce today. In terms of disolving Trent’s parental rights, again we can establish he’s a danger to Gracie’s wellbeing, we can establish a lack of involvement prior to the request based on the texts we saved, and he was planning on removing her from your residence along with you against your will. He will be doing jail time for the second violation of the order of protection and we can use that to our advantage as well. It at least gets you full custody with zero visitation from him.”

“I don’t want him being anything to my little girl.” You said. “I know I can’t erase her DNA, but I need to erase him from her life on paper… please help me do that.”

“I will be pushing for that, Y/N.” Lauren assured you. “Is there another reason you’d need Trent to sign away his rights or to have them removed?”

“So that I can give Gracie the daddy she deserves.” You whispered, “The daddy she loves and who loves her.”

“Sweetheart.” Bradley said, taking your hand and turning you to face him, “It doesn’t matter what a piece of paper says or what DNA says, or even what her last name is. That little Princess is already my baby girl and will be my baby girl forever.”

“He’s right, Tulip.” Jake added softly, “She’s already claimed him as her Daddy Woosta. She doesn’t care if it’s not official in the courts. To her it’s already real. And he’s ‘daddy’ on the emergency contact list at daycare so I’d say that’s official.”

“I’d say that’s about all that matters too.” Lauren said, “The rest is just the icing on the cake. I’ll do my best to make sure that cake has icing when you’re ready to add it. Sound like a plan?”

“Yes. Thank you.” You replied, wiping tears from your eyes. “He won’t be physically allowed in the courtroom today, right? Just his lawyer can appear?”

“Correct.” Lauren said, “Due to him being currently incarcerated pending his court appearance and due to the order of protection.”

“Ok.” You replied, taking a deep breath. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

“Alright. The judge is due into court in about fifteen minutes so let’s go in and get seated until your case is called.” Lauren said, “I believe yours is the first one on the docket for the day.”

The three of you walked back down to the courtroom where the others had already gone in and found seats close to them but where you were directed to sit by the court deputy. You tried to keep from bouncing out of the chair with nervous energy. Jake ended up holding one of your hands and Bradley holding the other in order to prevent you from twisting them into knots.

“Breathe, Sweetheart.” Bradley whispered, “It’ll all be over soon.”

Jake squeezed the hand he was holding three times to let you know he loved you, you squeezed back, looking over with a small smile.

“All rise for the Honorable Judge Edwards” The deputy called out. Everyone stood while the judge walked into the courtroom from his chambers and took his spot.

“You may be seated” He said.

The deputy called the first court of the day, your case. Lauren stood up and addressed the Judge going over what was requested and a little bit of the history. He took a moment to review the files in front of him, asking her clarifying questions here and there. The entire time you sat there, feeling as though you would throw up from the nerves. You regretted eating the banana and toast that morning, and prayed it didn’t make a reappearence in the courtroom.

“After reviewing everything Ms. Kennedy has provided as well as the countersuits provided by Mr. Andrews on behalf of his client, and taking into consideration the two violations of the order of protection put into place not even a month ago,” Judge Edwards said, “It’s really a no brainer here on dissolving this marriage. Mr. Andrews, you can relay to your client that even though it wasn’t requested, I am ordering that all assets be split equally between parties. I cannot in good conscience allow this young woman who has already been through the wringer, to walk away with nothing, especially when there is a child involved. I’m assuming young lady, and correct me if I am wrong, but I believe I saw an added note for a request for name change in this paperwork, so is ok if I address you as Ms. Seresin?”

“Yes, You Honor.” You said, standing up next to Lauren when she held her hand out to you and smiled.

“Ms. Seresin.” He continued, “I am happy to push that name change through for you as well here today, I’m sure you remember how much work is involved in changing your name, but I don’t blame you one bit. As for the custody and parental rights of the your child. I would love to settle that for you today, but that is not within my power to do so. I will be referring you to a family court and will personally put a rush on that, there are a few judges over there that owe me favors. Mr. Owens, you would be wise to advise your client it would be in his best interests to think about coming to an agreement ahead of the next court date. Is there anything else I can do for you today, Ms. Seresin?”

“No, Sir.” You replied, your voice shaking with emotion. “Thank you so much for everything you’ve already done, Your Honor.”

“You’re very welcome.” He replied, “You are a free woman, Ms. Seresin. Ms. Kennedy, file this at the clerk’s desk on your way out, they’ll get it expedited for you.”

“Thank you, Your Honor.” She replied. She turned towards you and motioned for you all to head towards the exit.

Once you were out of the courtroom you collapsed into Bradley’s arms, overcome with the mixed emotions. You were elated to finally be freed from Trent, but devastated that you hadne’t yet freed your little girl. Bradley held you tightly to him, supporting you against him, letting you breathe and reign in the tears.

“It’s all Ok, Sweetheart.” he whispered, “Let it out. I’ve got you.”

“We’re halfway there, Tulip.” Jake said, rubbing your back, “We had to get you out in order to get Princess G out, Ok?”

“They’re right, Sweetie.” Lauren said gently, “This is good. Judge Edwards was our best case scenario today. I’ve known him for years. He was actually the judge that got me out of my marriage. I knew we had this in the bag when I saw the docket. His friends in the family court will be the same way. It’s no longer a matter of ‘If”, Y/N. It’s now just ‘when’.”

“So what happens now?” You asked, finding your voice.

“Now…” She said, smiling, “I go get copies of these papers, and then I file them with the clerk. These papers mean you, Y/N, are no longer married to Trent. They mean your legal last name is once more Seresin… meaning a very long wait at the DMV and Social Security office… and they mean you get to 100% take back your life. I will get the custody and parental rights forms refiled with Judge Edwards signatures so they’re rushed. I’ll call you when I hear anything, ok?”

“Thank you.” You choked out past the trears once more clogging your throat, “Thank you so much for everything.”

“You’re so welcome, Sweetie.” She replied, hugging you. “Let’s get your copies so you can go celebrate with your family.”

Once outside of the courthouse, you stopped and took a deep breath, tipping your head back to let the sun wash over your face, the warmth of it washing away all of the worries, the anxiety, the unhappiness. You were finally free of Trent. You were Y/N Seresin again.

“I’d say this calls for a celebration.” Mav said. “Since we’ve got the day off, let’s head to the beach. I’ll get pizzas and coolers of drinks and everyone can let off some steam.”

“Sounds good to me!” Fanboy agreed.

“I’m in!” Bob said.

“Dogfight Football!” Coyote cheered.

“What do you think, Tulip?” Jake asked, “Beach day with the fam? Gracie can nap there under the umbrella when she’s sleepy.”

“I think it sounds perfect.” You agreed, smiling at them all. Jake and Phoenix walked ahead with the others, everyone discussing plans for the impromptu beach day.

“You Ok, Sweetheart?” Bradley asked, slipping his hand into yours, entwining your fingers together as you slowly started to walk to the truck.

You paused walking, pulling Bradley to a stop with you. He looked down at you with a look of concern until he saw you smiling up at him.

“I’m not married.” You said, letting go of his hand so you could wrap your arms around his neck.

“No you’re not.” He agreed, smiling down at you, his own arms wrapping around your waist.

“I’m 100% free to date and give my heart to whomever I want.” You said, your smile growning.

“You are.” He agreed, his own smile growing with your words.

“I was waiting for this moment.” You said, taking a deep breath, your eyes getting lost in his own, “I love you Bradley Bradshaw, so, so much. I have since the first night you stayed over… maybe even before that… and it scared me at first but only because I thought I was stuck and you deserved someone who could love you freely without all of the baggage… but I AM free… so you’re stuck with me now, no returns and all that…”

He stopped your babbling, leaning down and capturing your lips with his own, pouring all of the love he’s felt but hasn’t said out loud into the kiss. His tongue licked over your lips seeking entrance, which you granted, your own tongue dancing over his, as the kiss deepened.

“I love you too, Y/N Seresin.” He rasped, when the need for oxygen drew the two of you apart. “I love you so damn much. No returns. No givebacks. It’s for keeps.”

“Let’s go get our girl and go to the beach.” You said, stealing another kiss. “It’s time to celebrate our fresh start.”

“Let’s get our girl.” He agreed.

A/N: I am SO sorry for the wait on that one! I promise there is more to come! There are TWO more planned chapters this story, so stay tuned!!! What are your thoughts on this one???

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thehollowwriter · 2 months

Text

Warnings: Technically none, but I suppose child abuse Word count: 3697

Summary: At six years old, Finn can't look after himself. When an unexpected situation befalls his Papa and his Papa's staff, there is nobody to look after him besides the last resort: his grandmother.

(Pls reblog and leave a comment ♥️)

The Grandmother

Grandparents. Everybody had them. Even if they weren't alive anymore or you didn't know them, there isn't a single person in Twisted Wonderland without them.

The relationships between grandchild and grandparents were different everywhere for every family. Some are close, some are distant, some are complicated, and others never got to know or meet their grandparents at all.

Finn fell into the distant category. Extremely distant. At least for the one living grandparent he did have.

His grandmother, on his dad's side, was somebody he had only met once.

His Papa didn't mention her (or Finn's grandfather, but he died a few years ago) or talk about her at all. In fact, Finn wouldn't have even known she existed if it weren't for his classmates.

"My Grammy makes the best crab rolls. You've got to try them!"

"Oh, my grandpa knows how to wrestle. He was a wrestler when he was young!"

"My grandparents said they had to swim through ice to get to school."

The few kids willing to talk to Finn looked at him.

"And what about you?" One asked. "What are your grandparents like?"

Finn, knowing they were just going to make fun of how he talked if he answered, just shrugged.

However, even as the conversation was dropped, Finn wouldn't stop thinking about it. Grandparents? His Papa's parents were dead, but he didn't know about the other side. Did he have any? What did they look like? Why didn't Papa talk about them?

When Finn got home from school, he swam into the kitchen where his Papa was making lunch and tugged at his arm.

"Papa," He said. "Do I have g-g- gwamparens?"

His Papa paused his actions and took a moment to translate his botched pronunciation.

"Grandparents." He corrected quietly. "Yes, one. Your dad's mother."

He didn't say any more, and Finn knew not to ask anymore. He could hear in his Papa's voice, the way it wavered slightly, that he didn't like this topic.

That was fine. Finn didn't actually care that much. His curiosity was fulfilled, and really, he just wanted to go play in the sand and hunt crabs in the garden.

This topic was only brought up again later, when Finn and his class were given a school assignment relating to their little history lesson about some times of civil unrest in the past.

"Talk to your parents, grandparents, uncles, aunts, whoever you can," said Finn's teacher. "It's important to hear from lots of different people."

Finn went home with the paper containing the information about his project clutched in his hand, then held it up for his Papa to see.

"Can I see gwamparens?" He asked. "For questions."

"Grandparents." His Papa patiently corrected. "And no. You can talk to Timo and the others instead."

It was around this time that Finn realised that being no contact with certain relatives was considered abnormal. Wrong. Something to pity.

When Finn relayed what his Papa said to his teacher, and she, after several tries, eventually translated his stilted, slurred speech, her demeanour became awkward.

"Oh." She said. "Are you sure?"

Finn nodded. She looked uncomfortable.

"Ask your Papa again." She said, and when Finn was on his way out the door, she mumbled. "Honestly, parents always let their petty family drama get in the way of their children's schooling."

She said it under breath, thinking Finn wouldn't hear, but he very much did.

Finn came home wondering why his Papa wouldn't let him see his grandmother, and then asked him again to see her.

"No." His Papa repeated. He was annoyed, but not at Finn. Never at Finn. "Tell her not to make you ask me again."

Finn nodded. "K. But Miss Key said fammy dwama gets in the way of... of..." He frowned, annoyed at the words that refused to come out right. "S-sooling."

His Papa squinted at him. "Family drama gets in the way of schooling?"

"Yeah."

His Papa drew in a slow breath but said nothing more on the topic. Instead, he told Finn to take his questions to the staff. They were happy to comply, ruffling Finn's hair and telling him all about their experiences "back in the day."

Finn was given many school projects revolving around talking to or about his family. He would always ask Timo, who was like his big brother, and Gale and the others, who were like his aunts and uncles.

His teachers didn't really like this, insisting he talk to his real family instead.

"Dey are." Finn said, blinking, and his teacher sighed and grinded her jaw.

"They need to be related to you, sweetie." She said.

When Finn repeated what he said to his Papa, the older shark just rolled hus eyes and muttered, "Bullshit." followed by a hurried, "Don't copy that."

From time to time, especially when given these projects, Finn wandered what this grandmother he apparently had was like. However, he would quickly lose interest because if his Papa didn't like her, he probably wouldn't either.

Oh, how he underestimated how true that statement would be.

It started when his Papa got in trouble for something. Finn wasn't sure what it was exactly, but he knew whatever it was, it wasn't true, so he didn't understand why these people wouldn't leave them alone.

Timo was in trouble, too, as well as some of the others. There wasn't anybody to look after him while whatever was going on was being sorted out, and his Papa absolutely refused to leave him home alone, so it was eventually decided he'd stay with his grandmother.

His Papa looked furious about it, finns trembling, hands clenching, eyes dark.

"Papa?" Finn asked, grabbing his hand. He stared at his Papa, wondering why he seemed upset.

His Papa muttered something and looked back at Finn, squeezing his hand.

"You're going to stay with your grandmother for a little bit, okay?" He said, his voice tinged with that same waver from before. "Probably just for a night until I get this sorted out."

Finn was given ten minutes or so to pack a little bag for himself. Toothbrush, toothpaste, his drawing things, and some of his toys were hurriedly shoved into a bag made of kelp, and then he was waiting at the door to go.

They swam for a while, until they reached the main part of the city. The streets were empty due to how late it was, and the sky was dark.

Silas turned Finn around and gently held his face. "Whatever she says to you, just ignore it, do you understand? Think of it as a nonsense rhyme. I promise I'll come fetch you as soon as possible."

Finn nodded, unsure why this was being said at all. He didn't care to listen to anyone besides his Papa most of the time anyway.

Eventually, they both noticed a lone figure drifting down the street towards them.

She was pink and white in hue, and skin sagged in a way that felt sad, somehow. Hair as white as snow flowed past her back, which was straight as an arrow. Her wrists were adorned with golden bangles, and she wore many rings. Two gold necklaces with a diamond on each one hung elegantly around her neck, clinking softly as she swam gracefully toward them.

Her face, now, that was the interesting part, was obscured by a thick white veil with golden patterns woven into it.

She looked like a ghost, and the thought made Finn's heart nearly stop. Next to him, his Papa tensed.

"Ah, Finn, dear, there you are." Said the stranger, who then turned her face towards his Papa."And.. Silas."

It felt wrong, in a way, to hear his Papa's name coming out of her mouth. Especially in a tone filled with such resentment and disgust.

"Cyrus." Said Finn's Papa.

A silence settled over them for a moment. A heavy, pregnant silence.

"Look after him." His Finn's Papa said after a while. He then covered Finn's earfins with his hands and said something Finn couldn't hear. He then lifted his hands just in time for Finn to hear the grandmother call his Papa a brute.

They hugged goodbye, and Silas once again reminded Finn not to listen to her, then parted ways

Finn followed the grandmother down the street, the two of them swimming in silence. He could feel her eyes on him behind that veil, scanning him from head to tailfin.

"How old are you?" The grandmother finally asked as they weaved through silent, unlit houses. "I haven't seen you were just a little baby. You've certainly... grown."

"Six." Finn mumbled, staring at the ground.

"Speak up." Said the the grandmother, her tail flicking in annoyance. "And look at me when I'm talking to you. Your father may not have bothered with teaching you manners, but I certainly will. I'll ask again, how old are you?"

"Six." Finn repeated a little louder, annoyed. He knew manners! He just didn't like people's eyes or looking into them. His Papa said he didn't have to do any of that.

Tye grandmother sighed. "We'll work on it. Six, hmm? My, how time flies. I'm surprised you're still alive."

Finn didn't understand what she meant by that, but he still didn't like it. He decided he didn't like her either.

Eventually, they arrived at a large double story home with a fenced front garden that contained a stone pathway and coral sculptures. The house itself was carved out of limestone, and it was very pretty.

"Woah." said Finn.

"Better than a rock, isn't it?" Said the grandmother, and Finn decided not to answer.

The inside of the house was neat and tidy. It was almost too perfect. More props for a movie set than an actual home.

Furniture, picture frames, and paintings were perfectly placed an angled, looking brand new and untouched by time. The only thing out of place was the dining room table, which had deep clawmarks running through it.

Finn stared at it, wondering what happened, until the grandmother ushered him away.

The house was so big. There was an entrance hall, a lounge, a separate dining room, a large kitchen, a small library, several bedrooms, and two master bedrooms.

"You must feel so cramped in that hunk of rock you live in." Said the grandmother. "This would be a much better place to stay, don't you think?"

Finn shrugged his shoulders, and she sighed but didn't say anything, opting to open up one of the bedroom doors instead.

"You will be staying here." She told him, opening the curtain of seaweed that functioned as a door. "This was Morri- your other father's room when he was younger."

Finn slowly swam inside and looked around. He felt like he'd travelled back in time for a moment, taken to an era from long before he was born.

The room that had apparently belonged to his late dad was just as freakishly perfect as the rest of the house. Not a speck of algae in sight, not a single sign of age or decay. It hadn't been disturbed, seemingly the exact same as it was when it was being used.

Overall, there wasn't actually much to it. The walls were painted teal, and the floor lilac. A box of various musical instruments sat in the corner, probably the most disorganised thing in this house.

In the back corner of the room was a huge trophy cabinet that was fit floor to ceiling. It was filled to the brim with trophies, plaques, scrolls, and certificates. Finn couldn't read yet, so he didn't know what they were for, but it seemed important.

Band and movie posters, a calendar marking an age of almost fifty years ago, and sketches of odd diagrams were hung up on the walls, slightly faded.

The large clamshell bed was littered with clawmarks on the sides, the only odd sight on the perfectly made bed.

On an empty dressing table sat a single framed picture of Finn's dad, surrounded by little glass containers of tiny bioluminiscent creatures.

Unlike all the other pictures Finn had seen of him, he wasn't smiling here. No, his face held a blank, exhausted expression.

"He was such a talented and clever child." The grandmother sighed suddenly. "I hope you are, too, Finn."

Finn's earfins flattened unhappily at the odd, unplaceable tone of her voice.

The grandmother shuffled back down to the ground floor, leaving Finn alone in that eerie room.

Finn didn't know why, but he didn't like it in there. Being there felt wrong. He put his bag down on the bed and swam out of there to instead watch the grandmother make food in the kitchen.

"You're awfully quiet, boy." She said. Finn blinked at her, and she sighed. "I believe you're meant to thank your kind grandmother for looking after you while your crook of a father deals with the police."

"Oh." Finn said, silently wondering if this was something he should ignore. "F... Fank you."

"Oh, don't tell me you can't talk right either." The grandmother groaned and raked her hands through her hair, careful to avoid the veil. "Thank you. It's quite simple, dear."

Finn frowned, his cheeks flushing in mild embarrassment. He'd always been slow in learning to talk. It took him far longer than considered normal to even say his first word, nevernind a sentence.

"Speech delay," it was calmly explained to both himself and his Papa. Quite a frw children experience it. All he needed to do was go to speech therapy for a while until he caught up with his peers.

Finn knew all of this, though in a much more simplified manner. "Talking problems." He would explain to people, but he couldn't muster the words to elaborate.

This stranger, this grandmother, probably wouldn't even bother trying to decipher his botched pronunciation.

Finn bowed his head and muttered a quiet "Sorry."

"You need to speak up." Was the reply. "Does Silas even talk to you?"

His Papa did talk to him, just not a whole lot. At least, compared to other parents. It wasn't because he didn't like talking to Finn or anything, but because he didn't have much he felt he needed to say.

He talked to Finn enough that Finn didn't feel ignored or abandoned and that he could learn how to talk. He just didn't constantly try to fill the air.

Trying to get this across to adults who were convinced his Papa was neglecting and mistreating him was impossible, so Finn just shook his head and said, "Papa talks lots."

The grandmother muttered something disbelief as she cut up kelp with a knife. "Yes, I'm sure two sentences a day is 'lots' for Silas. No wonder you're so behind... oh, I know this would happen without Morrigan there..."

Finn didn't understand what she was talking about, but the vague feeling he did something wrong and his Papa was being blamed for it gnawed at the back of his mind.

"Here, I talk to you like a parent should." Said the grandmother. "Isn't nice, having a conversation with someone who actually talks?"

Finn didn't answer.

Dinner was served at that scratched up table in that perfect dining room in that perfect, empty house.

Finn was tired and hungry, so when a platter of shredded seaweed, shrimp, and crab legs was placed in front of him, he reached out to grab some.

A sudden stinging pain on his knuckles made him yelp and draw his hand back, shaking it as it ached. That hurt, that really hurt, and it made his eyes water.

He looked up to find the grandmother holding a metal salad fork, waving it at him and looking at him like he'd committed a crime.

"Ungrateful." She seethed. "Greedy boy. I was worried Silas wasn't feeding you, but it seems that instead, he raised a little glutton who thinks he can take what he wants. Well, not under my roof. You take what I give you, the amount a child is supposed to eat, nothing more and nothing less."

Finn blinked back the tears and looked at his hand, noticing the bruises already forming on his knuckles. He nodded slowly. "Kay."

He was given a tiny helping and a fork, which was forcefully shoved into his hand until he was holding it "correctly."

"There." Said the grandmother. "Perfect. Civilised. Isn't this better, dear?"

Finn still didn't answer, and she just huffed and dished herself up an obscenely small portion of the dinner.

There was a pause as Finn stared at her veil, and she raised her hands to it.

"Don't say a word." She said and slowly removed it.

Finn blinked, surprised.

Her face was scarred. Very scarred. One could say she was little more damage away from being mangled. The jagged, rough marks on her flesh seemed to indicate she had been slashed in the face in a very violent manner. Attacked by something with claws.

Her lips were scarred, too, almost clefted. Her eyebrows were missing hair in some places. Her eyes, her bright turquoise eyes, were cold as ice.

Finn was no stranger to scars. His Papa had many, and Timo and the others had a few of their own. But even by those standards, this damage was... extreme.

They ate in silence, accompanied by only the ticking of the kitchen clock. The obnoxiously loud "tick tick tick" made Finn flinch and squirm in discomfort.

Even as he ate, he couldn't take his eyes off the grandmother's face. Those scars, they told a story. A very violent, painful one.

The grandmother stopped eating and stared back at Finn with those haunting eyes.

"Your father did this to me, you know." She said. "Ruined me. I can't even show my face in public anymore, not like this."

Finn narrowed his eyes. He didn't believe her. He'd never seen his Papa hurt someone before, only sea creatures.

"Oh, I suppose you think he's just wonderful." The grandmother said with a bitter laugh. "That your 'Papa' is just a stoic man who wouldn't hurt a fly. That's what he convinced your dad, too. Shame my poor Morrigan never saw the truth before it did him in."

Finn shifted uncomfortably, trying to ignore her like his Papa told him to. 'Nonsense rhyme that doesn't rhyme.' He told himself, even as his eyes brimmed with tears again, and he wished he could go home.

The grandmother reached across the table and took Finn's hand in hers. "I see the truth. I know you must be suffering, being raised by him. I can help you."

Finn yanked his hand back, staring at her. She sighed.

"Fine. You'll understand soon. Brush your teeth, now, and off to bed with you."

Finn eventually went back to that awful room and curled up in that awful bed, staring at that awful picture of a sad, dull version of his dad. He thought about what his grandmother had said and, by extension, what the others at school had said about his Papa, and then cried until he fell asleep.

The next day, his breakfast was a single crab with a glass of water. He was still hungry from the night before, and honestly, the crab looked a little... old. But he ate it anyway, scared of being hit again.

When he finished up and went to fetch his bag, a knock at the door and the sound of familiar voice calling made him perk up and come rushing down towards it, only to be grabbed by the grandmother.

Her grip hurt, the golden rings digging painfully into his skin as she stared at him with those cold eyes.

"You're not safe with him." She said. "Stay with me. I can raise you properly, make sure you're cared for. I'll make sure I don't make the same mistakes I did with Morrigan. You'll be happy. Wouldn't you like that, dear?"

Finn yanked himself out of her grip and shook his head wildly. "No!" He shouted. "No!"

The door suddenly burst open, and Finn took the opportunity to rush through it until he crashed into his Papa and buried his face in his chest.

His Papa paused for a moment, then placed a hand on Finn's back and gently patted him.

"Papa," Finn sobbed, his voice wobbly. "Papa, I wanna go home."

His Papa held him close and grabbed his hand. "We're going home, my treasure, I promise."

Finn yelped and pulled his hand away. "Owie..."

"What?" His Papa's brows furrowed. "What is it?"

"Hand." Finn said, holding up his bruised hand for his Papa to see. It was worse than it was the night before.

His Papa's breath hitched. There was a long stretch of silence as he seemed frozen in place. Then he suddenly moved Finn so he was sitting on the sand by the door.

"Wait here." He said to Finn, then swam inside and closed the door behind him.

Finn, happy his Papa was finally here, drew little pictures in the sand and hummed quietly, only vaguely aware of the muffled voices coming from behind the door.

A high-pitched shriek made him look up, but after a moment or two, he simply went back to drawing, unbothered.

A moment or two later, his Papa swam out of the bride and carefully picked him up.

"Let's go home now, Finn." He said quietly.

During their silent swim, Finn's head was buzzing with thoughts. The grandmother was terrible. He didn't like her. She said strange things and hurt him. But the main thing that stuck in his mind was that one sentence.

"Your father did this to me."

Finn gnawed on his hand nervously, his tail flicking back and forth. It couldn't possibly be true, could it? Or maybe it was, and it was a misunderstanding of some kind.

"Gamma says you hurted her." Finn blurted after a while. "Hurted her face. Why?"

His Papa glanced at him but didn't answer for a while. He seemed to be thinking, remembering something Finn wouldn't know about. Then, he spoke.

"She tried to take you from me."

...........................................

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed this little fic! It was a lot of fun writing it. And if you're wondering what Silas did at the end there, he broke Cyrus' hand. Moral or the story; don't hurt Finn. Fun Fact: my little brother also has speech delay, and the way Finn pronounces things was taken from him.

Tagging: @distant-velleity @br3adtoasty @rainesol @theleechyskrunkly @jovieinramshackle

@galaxies-and-gore @cyanide-latte @cynthinesia @officialdaydreamer00 @krenenbaker

@offorestsongs @kitwasnothere @elenauaurs @boopshoops @inotonline

@1dont-really-know @kazumify @minteasketches @elysia-nsimp @skrimpyskimpy

@casp1an-sea @offorestsongs @tixdixl @poisoned-pearls @the-trinket-witch

@ramshacklerumble @ghostiidasponk @thegoldencontracts @the-banana-0verlord @cloudcountry

@skriblee-ksk @twstinginthewind @lumdays @theolivetree123 @natsukishinomiyaswife

@authoruio @jewelulu @raguiras @honeynclove @moonyasnow

#finn clearcove #silas clearcove #cyrus clearcove #twisted wonderland #twst oc #writing

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questionableratatouille00 · 7 months

Text

𝓜𝓸𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓞𝓷 11

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Y/n has accepted Natasha’s passing. She believes that it’s safe to say she’s moved on. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t still love Nat, and that she doesn’t care about the time they spent together, it just means that she’s able to continue living, even after a tragic event. But that’s not the only way she’s going to be moving.

Warnings (Entire Series): This series deals with mature topics, including, but not limited to: death, mental health issues, physical, emotional, and sexual abuse, grief, trauma, general unwellness, illness (both mental and physical), and a most likely inaccurate portrayal of group therapy (though it’s much better than whatever was going on in TFATWS.) Please mind the warnings below.

Warnings: dead romantic partners, moving.

🌻Series Masterlist 🌻

𝐈 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐀𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭

𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝙼𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚑𝚜 𝙻𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛

Things were going good with Wanda and the rest of the group. You and Wanda’s relationship was only getting stronger, and you didn’t even have to tell the group that you two were dating; they already knew.

You walked out of the therapy office, Wanda’s hand laced in yours.

“See you all next week!” She called towards the group, waving goodbye. You waved too, and grinned.

You hopped into the driver’s seat of your car, and she got in the passenger’s seat. As you pulled out of the parking lot, she flicked on the radio.

‘Fearless’ by Taylor Swift played softly.

“I know we’ve only been together for a while, but..do you think that you’d ever move in with me?” She asked suddenly, and you were shocked.

“What?” Your voice cracked awkwardly.

“Would you ever move in with me?”

You thought about it for a moment, before coming to your conclusion.

“Yes.” You murmured.

“Will you move in with me?” Wanda asked a week or so later.

“Yes.” You pressed a kiss to her lips.

And so, here you were. Packing up all of your belongings into boxes. All of your friends were there helping, so it wasn’t all sad. Even Sharon and Yelena had shown up.

“Hi.” Yelena greeted Bucky again, drawing out the ‘i’.

Bucky glanced at Steve, before greeting her back.

You just shook your head and laughed.

Sharon was making friends with your friends, and you were glad that they liked her and she liked them.

A year ago, you’d had no friends. And now you were surrounded by them.

Something about that sentiment made your eyes water, though you quickly pushed it away.

You were going to miss your apartment. You’d shared the apartment with Natasha. It felt like leaving the apartment was leaving the last traces of her.

But you’d realized that she’d always really be with you, no matter where you lived.

Sam and Bruce were packing up the kitchen, all of your plates and silverware you intended to keep.

Clint and Tony were taking care of all of the bookshelves and decor. Thor, Steve, and Bucky were packing up things like the mixer and the coffee machine.

You and Wanda were packing up your bedroom.

“This is a cute shirt,” she murmured as she held up one of your shirts. You chuckled as she tossed it to you.

As you folded it and set it in the box, she continued setting empty hangers in their own box.

The days went by quicker. And not in the ‘days-are-all-blending-together-and-I-feel-like-shit’ way. But in a good way.

Things were getting better.

Maybe you were moving on.

A/n: we’re getting close to the end. Makes me a bit emotional, if I’m honest. Thank you so so much for reading, and please leave a comment and reblog if you enjoyed!! It motivates me a lot.

#moving on #wanda fanfic #wanda x reader #wanda x y/n #wanda marvel #wanda maximoff #wanda x you #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff fluff

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charincharge · 6 months

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I Don't Want To Wait, sixy-nine

AN: I’ve been waiting literal years to get to chapter 69, but alas. It didn’t work out the way I wanted it to. In fact, I think this chap is going to be split in two. Hopefully the second half will be up by the end of the weekend. Please enjoy and lmk via comment or reblog if you’re still out there.

Aelin leaned her head back into the seat rest and let the wind whip through her long hair, her stress melting away with each mile they drove away from Orynth. In the aftermath of the Evalin debacle, she was more than ready for a full week of nothing resembling schoolwork or stress whatsoever. Nothing but relaxation, sunshine, and sex. She’d even made a special trip to the mall with Manon and Elide to purchase a few new nightgowns for the occasion. And she could not wait to show them off. And honestly, she couldn’t wait to have sex in a real bed. Her knees were totally bruised and red from the back seat of the Jeep. She sighed happily, imagining the week-full of scantily clad moments and couldn’t help but look over at Rowan, who was hyper focused as he made his way through the winding highways at the base of the Terrasen mountains.

She took a moment to truly ogle him. The flex of his forearm as he made his way meticulously around every curve. His furrowed brow and his recently cropped hair showing off the thick column of his throat. One of his teeth peeked from between his pillowy lips, gnawing on the skin there, completely oblivious to Aelin’s lusting.

“Aelin, look away from your boyfriend before he crashes the car,” Lysandra laughed from the backseat, causing Aedion to snort loudly beside her. “Could you be any hornier? Gods.”

“Yes,” Rowan smirked, still not taking his eyes off the road ahead of him. Okay, so maybe not completely oblivious. “You sure your parents won’t care that we’re spending the week at their beach house?” Rowan asked Lysandra for approximately hundredth time since she’d pitched the idea the week earlier.

“They’re on a luxury cruise on the coast of the Southern continent for the rest of the month,” she replied, giving her same answer no matter how many times he asked for reassurance.

The plan had come together fairly last minute, not that Aelin was complaining. She’d anticipated her spring break being a boring (but still delightful) affair of vegging out in front of the television, but this was going to be a whole lot better. Obviously, spring break was a minefield of substance use (and abuse), and Lysandra had pitched the idea of a sober week at her parents’ completely empty beachside mansion. Aelin could tell that Lysandra was feeling genuinely nervous about the prospect of being alone, and Aelin was happy to gather a group of people, who would enjoy a week of sobriety. Manon and Elide had jumped at the opportunity to be unsupervised for a week, while Dorian had pratically thrown himself across the table asking to join. (Apparently his dad had been more annoying than usual as he waited for college apps to roll in). And though Aelin had anticipated Chaol not wanting to participate, given whatever weirdness was going on with him and Dorian, he also seemed exciting to come.

What Aelin hadn’t anticipated, though, was her cousin’s presence. He was waiting at Lysandra’s, suitcase in hand, as Rowan and Aelin swung by earlier this morning. He’d waved her raised brow off with a loud, “Let’s get this sober party started!” And that was, apparently that.

She looked behind her at the pair, wondering what was actually going on between them. Despite the absence of any kind of drugs or alcohol, Aelin had a distinct feeling this week was going to be a wild one.

. . .

The house was… incredible. She’d seen pictures of it before, but Lysandra’s family used it primarily as an event space, renting it out during the summer months. It was still slightly too chilly to utilize the beach, so it sat, dark and empty. But, just stepping into the brightly lit foyer, Aelin felt lighter than air.

“You and Rowan are in the master on the fourth floor,” Lysandra said, pointing to the staircase.

“Really?”

“Aedion requested that you both be out of earshot from him,” she said with a teasing smile.

“And where is my dear cousin going to be sleeping?” Aelin asked, curiosity peaking.

Lysandra rolled her eyes, and Aelin didn’t fail to notice that wasn’t an answer.

“Manon and Elide are stopping for takeout, so text them with your order ASAP,” she said instead.

Aelin was going to push further, but Rowan came sweeping in beside her, their suitcases in hand, and starting running up the stairs.

“Race ya!”

“That’s cheating!”

Aelin tripped over her own sneakers trying to get ahead of him, but the man was built like a tree trunk, and no matter how many times she tried to snake around him, he blocked her again and again.

Finally, as they rounded the corner to master suite, Aelin was able to pull ahead. And the sight that awaited her was even better than she could have imagined.

Squealing, she took off in a run before falling back, full body flopping and bouncing onto the

king-sized bed, which took up the center of the room. She sighed happily as she stared up at the billowy canopy above her, the smell of beachside breeze surrounding her as Rowan cracked open their giant bay window. Behind a set of gauzy curtains was a private balcony, overlooking the beach and the ocean beyond it, and Aelin felt like royalty with how good everything felt. She could get used to this.

With a wide smile, Rowan came and flopped next to her, both of them bouncing in tandem off the mattress and crashing down into each other in a breathless pile of limbs.

“Hi,” Rowan said, curling his body towards hers, his green eyes dark as his hand ran its way under the hem of her shirt. She inched forward in return, leaning into the pads of his fingers as they circled the skin of her back.

“Hi.”

Her voice sounded breathless to her own ears. Although, that could be due to the fact that they’d just sprinted up four flights of stairs.

“Dinner! Text.” Lys shouted up the stairs, breaking the spell between them momentarily. She jotted off a quick text, then resumed her position staring at Rowan. Gods, he was so beautiful. And she was so lucky to have him. His fingers never ceased their movement, delicately running up and down the curve of her side, as his face relaxed into a contended smile. She briefly had the urge to pull her journal from her backpack and record this moment, this prolonged moment of touching between them, as she had before they’d admitted their feelings for each other. The shadow of a past that she barely knew anymore.

She’d brought the journal in hopes that she’d be able to write out any of her feelings regarding her murky future, but with Rowan’s face merely inches away, it all seemed so clear. She’d only ever need him. Unable to resist the pull between them for a second longer, she tugged the collar of his shirt toward her and pressed her lips to his in a soft kiss.

He mumbled something against her mouth, but she was too blissed out to really hear his words.

“Shouldn’t we go downstairs,” he laughed, as she trailed kisses down his throat. “Help Lys unpack the groceries and games and stuff?”

“Mmm, no,” Aelin said, rolling her boyfriend to his back and lifting up his shirt to scatter soft kisses against his abs. She loved the way they clenched beneath her touch. It made her feel so powerful. Rowan snorted loudly, but it morphed quickly into a groan as she fiddled with the waistband of his pants.

“Ace,” he attempted to admonish her. “Friends. Downstairs.”

“Guess we’ll just have to be quiet.”

He flopped back onto the fluffy white comforter with a muffled groan as Aelin tugged on his pants. And as she started to move over him, she errantly thought she should have texted her friends that they would be late to dinner and not to wait for them.

. . .

They were indeed late for dinner. But no one minded. The table was filled with chatter between their friends, who barely spared the freshly showered pair a glance as they walked in. They table was mid-card game already, and Aelin laughed loudly as she figured out they were playing an extremely intense game of Go Fish between bites of their seafood feast.

“Go. Fish,” Aedion said confidently, causing Dorian’s blue eyes to narrow with irritation.

“If you have a three you have to give it to me,” Dorian insisted, causing Aedion to smirk back.

“I know how to play the game, pretty boy.”

“You think I’m pretty?”

A matching smirk appeared on Dorian’s face, and the sudden moment of silence was so charged that Aelin felt herself warm slightly. Looking around the table, she knew she was not the only one who noticed. The tension coming from both Lysandra and Chaol’s tight smiles was palpable.

Well, that was certainly an interesting development.

“Dorian, do you have any fives?” Manon cut in, apparently observing the same situation that Aelin had.

The spark died quickly as the game progressed, but it didn’t escape Aelin’s attention that Chaol’s eyes flicked between Aedion and Dorian a few dozen times. He’d insisted they were fine and that the moment they spent as more than friends was just a blip in the past, but given his furrowed brow and tipped frown, Aelin had a feeling that wasn’t exactly true. Poor Chaol.

The rest of the night followed without incident — they received a full house tour from Lysandra, who showed them how to use the highly complicated smart house settings, which included internet, lights, the thermostat and auto-timed blackout shades. She also led them out to the deck and taught them how to turn on the hot tub, as well as the outdoor lights and music system. After she taught them how to turn on the projector in the theater room, and where everything had been put away in the kitchen, they decided they deserved an evening of rest. They all gathered on the family room the couch to eat copious amounts of candy and popcorn and watch a horror comedy that Aedion had picked. Aelin was glad she and Rowan had gotten in some alone time earlier, because somewhere toward the middle of the movie, she could feel her eyes getting heavy with sleep.

“You okay?” she could hear Rowan ask somewhere just out of reach of the depths of her exhaustion.

She mumbled a soft, “I’m asleep,” as she flopped harder onto his chest, and she could feel the rumble of his laughter beneath her cheek as he stroked her hair, and that was all she remembered.

She didn’t wake until hours later when the first hints of buttery sunlight peaked through the curtains of their master suite. Based on Rowan’s soft and steady breath beside her, she knew it must be really early, and a quick glance at the clock told her it wasn’t even six yet. Despite not being a morning person at all, she felt invigorated and inspired. She crept quietly out of bed, throwing on a pair of sweats and grabbing her journal before heading downstairs.

The delicious aroma of coffee awaited her downstairs, a full pot already brewed from the fancy machine Lysandra had taught them how to use last night in their detailed house tour. She looked around to see who else was awake, but the kitchen was completely empty. Instead of doing further inspection, she poured a hefty amount of hazelnut creamer into her coffee and grabbed a blanket from the stack on the end of the couch to wrap around her shoulders before making her way onto the deck.

The sun was just starting to peak over the horizon when she settled in at the outdoor table with her coffee. Awash in the beauty of the blue waves softly lapping at the shore of the beach, contrasting with the deep purple and pink sky first tinged with the first rays of the firey red-orange sun, Aelin felt like she could finally breathe for the first time in a long time.

Her worn journal was battered and bruised, and she regretted that it had been ignored in the recent months, in favor of her color-coded planner. It was her dad who’d reminded her of its existence, wondering if she wouldn’t feel better if she put pen to paper about how she was feeling. And though she wasn’t exactly sure what was going to come out, she placed her pen against a fresh page and took off. As the words formed in her messy sloping print, she found herself writing about the moment itself. She wanted to remember this sky, the way the sunlight spilled over the darkness like a molten lava, lighting up the horizon like a fire, starting deep glowing red, then turning a burning orange, until it became unmistakably golden.

She didn’t know how long she’d been writing for when the seats next to her started to fill up with her friends, but the sun was firmly fixed in the sky, daylight pouring over the wide expanse of sand and glistening atop the ocean’s placid undulations. She shut her journal and reached for her coffee mug, which had been freshly filled and was steaming again. Her glance drifted next to her where Rowan lifted his own mug, which read “World’s Best Granddad” in a scrawling script, in an air cheers, and they both smiled as they took a sip in unison.

“So, what’s on the agenda today, Miss Lys?” Aedion asked, clapping his hand loudly on her shoulder.

Lys glanced up at him with a beaming smile. “Glad you asked.”

Lysandra had put in more prep than Aelin had even anticipated, making sure that they had multiple activity options for each day they spend there. Aelin had known Lysandra was nervous about this week, but she hadn’t realized exactly how nervous until she saw Lys’s list for potential activities and which weather they’d be best for.

Since the weather was abnormally warm for this time of year, they decided to take advantage of the sunshine and explore the local town. It was a short walk from the house, and though it was pretty much just two streets of “downtown,” it was fun to look into each of the darkened windows, seeing where tourists would line up to indulge in artisan fudge and hand crafted beach bags, decadent scoops of ice cream, and kitschy beachwear as soon as summer came around.

“Sup, buttmunch?” Aedion swung a large arm around Aelin’s shoulders as they ambled down the main street.

Aelin’s instinct was to shrink out of her cousin’s arms and tell him to fuck off, but he had the distinct privilege of catching her in a moment where she was trying to relish the moment. She remembered how hard it sucked when he went away to college, how far away he felt, and couldn’t resist leaning into his grasp. It only caused him confusion.

“You good?”

Aelin nodded. But Aedion knew her too well.

“I heard about your mom.”

Well, that caught Aelin’s attention.

“What? How?”

He nodded toward Lysandra. “Don’t be mad if she wasn’t supposed to tell. She was just… worried. If anyone knows about parental issues…”

Aelin shrugged. “I’m okay.” But Aedion wasn’t satisfied with that answer and proceeded to pinch her side. “OW!”

She must have reacted too exuberantly because before she could say anything, Rowan was there, hovering and worrying and asking Aedion what was going on.

“I’m fine, buzzard,” she laughed, shooing him away.

“Sorry I upset your bodyguard,” Aedion chuckled. And it felt so natural to just be with him that she almost cried. She thought about the way their relationship had ebbed and flowed in the last two years, and she regretted… a lot. She loved Aedion. And cutting him out was one of the worst things she’d done in a long list of mistakes.

“He’s fine. And so am I,” Aelin reassured her cousin, who was still peering at her with the eyes she saw in the mirror every day. Damn, it was so hard to lie to him. “Or, I will be.” She took a deep breath. “I’m just looking forward to a week with no drama.”

At that, Aedion snorted loudly.

“I’m sorry, you gathered a group of stressed out couples and almost couples and former couples and expected them not to bring you drama?” he asked, eyes sparkling.

Aelin’s jaw dropped. “And which one are you?”

“I don’t believe in labels,” he replied, puffing out his chest. But his posturing was short-lived as he lowered his voice. “Dorian is… nice.”

“I KNEW IT!” Aelin hissed.

“Shush,” he chastised her, pulling her closer.

“But what about Lys?” she asked.

And she saw the way Aedion’s eyes glazed over with concern as he sought out the brunette in front of them. “She’s an incredible human, and I like her a lot.” He paused. “Maybe more than I should.” He sighed as he looked down at Aelin again. “She’s strong as hell, and she’d straight up die for anyone she cares about. It reminds me a lot of someone else I know…” He chuckled. “But, she’s not allowed to date for at least another six months, according to her sobriety rules. And she said she’ll probably follow it for longer, given how fucked up her last relationship was. And, she’s straight up told me that. And I have to respect that. So, yeah, I’m looking elsewhere.” He paused, his eyes sliding to Dorian’s swaying hips a few feet in front of them. “And elsewhere is cute.”

Aelin rolled her eyes. “Yeah, and elsewhere has a former-almost relationship sleeping next door to him.”

“I know,” Aedion laughed. “Which is why I think you should be prepared for drama,” he said, tickling her side. “I know you can’t possssibly understand because you’re in the most incredible amazing relationship ever, but…”

“You talking about my butt?” Dorian quipped, winking over his shoulder, and Aedion’s cheeks had the audacity to turn pink.

Aelin didn’t think she’d ever seen him blush before, and she couldn’t believe the shade of scarlet he turned at Dorian’s attention. Which… was worrisome, given Chaol and Lysandra’s sudden tension in their posture. Drama. Oh dear. Perhaps Aedion was right. Aelin considered herself warned.

. . .

When they got back to the house, everyone was ordered to leave the kitchen. Manon and Chaol (of all people!) had decided to cook everyone a gourmet dinner. Unbeknownst to anyone, Chaol had pursued an interest in the culinary arts and he was enamored by the technology available to him in Lysandra’s parents’ kitchen. And apparently Manon was an excellent chef, according to Elide, who had enjoyed many meals via her girlfriends’ talents. As they had walked by a local grocery, they’d picked up all the ingredients they needed for the most delicious dinner ever. They spent their time walking through the aisles, deciding what to prepare and landed on a multi-course meal that would knock everyone’s socks off. Apparently last night’s takeout was… fine, but they wanted something more elevated. Just from overhearing their planning, Aelin had deduced dinner would consist of several different salads, seared scallops, a complicated steak dish, and a dessert that Aelin would be dreaming about for hours. She thought perhaps they had watched too much Top Chef, but who was she to complain about receiving the fruits of their labor?

Since the group had hours to kill and the sun was starting to sink into the horizon and leave the house shrouded in dark shadow, Lys suggested that they start up the hot tub while Manon and Chaol manned the kitchen. Elide and Chaol had offered themselves up as sous chefs to help with any prep, but they were rejected, leaving them to join the hot tub crew. Aelin felt absolutely great about that. And as soon as she put on her bikini, so did Rowan. His hands wrapped around her waist, pulling her close and nuzzling his face into her neck. “Mmm, you smell so good,” he moaned, and Aelin couldn’t resist smiling widely as she remembered the multiple nightgowns she’d brought and hadn’t taken out yet. Rowan would be dying. And they’d be putting this master bed with its fluffy mattress and even fluffier comforter to good use. She’d specifically bought a few sexy nightgowns in colors she knew he would love – gold, green, and red. But she was careful to push them to the bottom of the suitcase and out of Rowan’s view. After arranging the clothes just so, so everything was out of sight, she placed her her journal on top to and pulled her bathing suit out.

He was already clad in low-slung shorts, which highlighted his abs in an obscene way, and she contemplated saying fuck it to the hot tub and just pulling him into bed right in that very moment, but she also knew that she should be social and that this was not just a sexcation for her and her boyfriend. When she looked at the wide expanse of his chest and thick roped arms that was hard to remember. So she pulled him out of the room quickly, not wanting to tempt herself more than she needed.

In the hot tub, Lys and Aedion were already stewing in the steamy water, seltzers in hand as they tried to control their temperature. Aelin stepped in and let the lapping bubbles overtake her, sliding onto a seat that was right next to a pulsing jet. She couldn’t help but moan, causing all the eyes in the hot tub to slide to her.

“Sorry,” she apologized, causing a round of laughter to take off.

Dorian and Elide slinked in shortly after, and even though Aelin was leaning hard into Rowan’s side, she kept an eye on Aedion and Dorian and Lys, wondering exactly what was going on between all of them at every moment. Rowan definitely noticed at one point, elbowing her side, but she ignored him.

“Ugh, I’m overheated,” Rowan complained about thirty minutes into their soak.

“Really? I’m perfect,” Aelin replied, causing everyone to laugh.

Rowan shook his head, laughing at his girlfriend. “I’m gonna take a cold shower and then I’ll be back,” he assured her, leaving her with a solid kiss that left Aelin breathless.

“Y’all are as disgusting as ever,” Aedion said, causing Dorian to snort loudly.

“That’s nothing,” he added. “Wait until you see them in the minutes before they head to their not-so-secret parking lot spot to fuck.”

Aelin’s cheek’s filled with blood at his words, but she wasn’t ashamed. “Whatever,” she laughed off.

Even Elide joined in the razzing, making Aelin realize that maybe she and Rowan were more obvious than they let on. She was so busy laughing that she barely realized that Rowan hadn’t rejoined them until everyone was getting out of the tub an hour later.

As she walked through the kitchen, she sniffed in the incredible aromas and told Manon that she was looking forward to dinner, to which her friend simply replied, “You better be.”

Dripping slightly, she skipped up the stairs to the master bedroom. Rowan was laid out on the bed, his eyes closed, and Aelin assumed that he was simply exhausted, and walked herself straight into the shower. She showered the chlorine out of her hair and took extra time to shave her legs all the way up to her hips, making sure that she was feeling good and confident about being alone with Rowan tonight.

But when she made her way out to the bedroom, Rowan was staring at her with such vitriol that she was taken aback.

“Uh, hi?” she asked, and he simply scoffed.

“Hi.” She wrapped the towel tighter around her chest and looked at him for real. He did not look happy. His frown tugged down exaggeratedly and his brow was crinkled with stress lines.

“You okay?” she asked, even though the answer was an obvious no.

“Just wondering why you’re with me if you think I’m inconsiderate and emotionally stunted,” he said super casually, as if he hadn’t said something completely insane.

“What?”

He reached for her journal, which she hadn’t even realized was in his grasp, and held it in front of them.

“Apparently you think I’m selfish and horrible and completely unworthy of your attention, so I guess I’m not so sure of what you’re doing with me.”

Aelin was aghast.

“You read my journal?”

He scoffed, as if he hadn’t done anything wrong. “Well, it was out there for anyone to see. I barely had to flip through it to see all the shit you wrote about me,” he said, annoyed as ever. But all it did was spur Aelin’s anger. How…dare he?

She snatched the journal from his hands and clutched it to her still damp chest.

“You’re not even denying it. You read my journal.”

He stuck his nose into the air, not denying a thing, and Aelin’s heart panged with a hurt so large she thought maybe she was having a heart attack.

“That wasn’t okay, Ro.”

“Obviously,” he quipped. “This is where you write how much you fucking hate me.”

She could feel herself vibrating with anger as she opened the journal in front of him. “Oh yeah? I hate you?” she sassed. “Then please tell me why I spent all of the summer between junior and senior year cataloguing every time you touched me? Because I hated you?” she seethed. “This journal is my most private thoughts and feelings,” she admitted. “And most of them are about how in love with you I am.” She took a deep breath, her shoulders shaking with every deep breath. “So you read the one page where I was frustrated that you didn’t love me too? Get over it, Rowan. You put me through hell. HELL!” she shouted. “You didn’t give me any signal that you loved me too, at all. So, sorry if I had one stupid journal entry talking about how frustrated I was with you. If you had turned the fucking page,” she said, turning the page for effect. “You would have seen how stupidly obsessed and in love I was with you, but you don’t deserve to read that either.”

She shook with her anger, unaffected by the change in her boyfriends’ expression.

“Now get out.”

“But—”

“Get out.”

She watched as Rowan gathered himself off the bed and headed out the door, and she chose to ignore the small furrow in Rowan’s brow or the clenching of his jaw, as she slammed the door shut.

How dare he. Like, really. How. Dare. He? He had no right to invade her privacy and then be mad about what he’d discovered. Not to mention, if he’d only skipped ahead a few pages in the journal he would have stumbled on a time stamped record of every time he’d touched her, making her skin light on fire with lust and wanting. I’m fact, nearly 99% of that journal was just wishing and hoping that he’d ever look her way or see her as more than a friend. It was the contents of a lovestruck puppy. But NO. He had to crack open her journal and peer inside the one, single day where she hated the wanting and the pain from wanting so bad that she had to get it out — expel the poison from inside her, knowing that none of it was really how she felt. It wasn’t true then and it certainly wasn’t true now. And he knew that! So, how dare he have the audacity to be upset about her most private painful thoughts when he was the one invading them?

She could feel tears burning the edges of her eyelids but refused to let them through. Instead, she sniffed back loudly and tilted her head to the ceiling. An old fan whirred slowly above her, letting out a soft clinking sound with each rotation. One of the blades was slightly off and kept catching the very top of the chain that dangled below. Her breathing steadied as she watched the fan do its wonky loop again and again, the clinking starting to soothe her and she inhaled and exhaled with each sound.

What a dick.

“UGH!” Aelin pushed herself up and stalked to the door, swinging it back open.

Rowan stood exactly where the door had slammed in his face, and she watched him take a breath, presumably to say he was sorry, but Aelin didn’t care. “Don’t,” she whispered under her breath. “I’m starving, and this dinner sounds so fucking good, and I don’t want to fight.”

“I just want to talk—”

“Well, I don’t,” she snapped.

To his credit, he nodded succinctly, not pushing for more.

“I’m so mad at you,” she continued. “What you did is not okay,” she said, breathing hard and ignoring the way his green eyes pinched at her words. “That journal is my private thoughts and feelings, and you reading it without me… I thought we had boundaries.”

His eyes looked sad as he said, “But I thought we told each other everything.”

And she took a large breath to reply. Because she understood. She really did. “We do. Now. But Ro, that journal is from years and years of our lives. It starts freshman year, and I still use it today. Do you know how many thoughts and feelings I’ve had about you since then?” she asked. She grabbed the journal. “If you turned the page, you would have seen a detailed time stamped spreadsheet of every time you touched me our sophomore year. Literally time stamped. But there were so many times that I wasn’t sure about us. You were with fucking Lyria! For months,” she shouted. “So, how dare you come and be mad at me when you read how I was feeling during that time? I didn’t know if you’d be with me ever.” She took another deep breath, ignoring Rowan’s pained face. “I’m sorry you got your feelings hurt, but I’m not sorry for writing my feelings down in my journal. It was the only way I was able to survive. And youi peaking into that time without acknowledging how hard you hurt me then isn’t just tone deaf, but it's stupid, Ro. Really fucking stupid.”

“I thought you wanted me to read it…” he said, trying to explain himself.

“Well, that was your mistake,” she said, wiping a rogue tear from her cheek.

Rowan apologized, but Aelin barely heard him. She’d wanted to be apart from the drama, but as she and Rowan made her way down to dinner, she realized that they were the drama. And it was about to be everyone else’s problem.

#idwtw #rowaelin #tog fanfiction #rowaelin fanfiction #tog fanfic #rowaelin fanfic #throne of glass

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mariamariquinha · 11 months

Text

tear you apart - Dave York x f!reader (one shot)

Summary: You were his assistant. You had a crush on him. Classic.

Word count: 8.8k

Warnings: Bad words, p in v, unprotected sex, slight mention of abusive coworker (not Dave), possessiveness (from Dave hehe) and alcohol comsuption.

Author’s Note: My mother saw me writing this and she said it was impressive that I was writing in English. That's one of the good sides of being the only one who can speak and understand English in a brazilian household - I can write 8k words of smut about a Pedro Pascal's character.

He isn't even in my list of regulars. But again, since when you guys try to understand me?

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! THIS BLOG IS +18!

Join my taglist! Don’t forget to reblog, comment and like! As always, I would love to know what you’re all thinking! ❤

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

It wasn’t like he was your boss - in matters of hierarchy, he had more pomp, but he didn't have the power to order you to serve coffee, for example. Unlike the other agents in his ranks, however, Dave York was… likable. He limited himself to almost symbolic instructions or requests - a report, a question about the availability of a meeting room (he didn't like his).

The thing that made him tolerable was simple. Dave York knew how to ask just as much as he knew how to demand.

You mentioned him to your coworkers sometimes and you all would share nothing but a few words about the guy - that he was nice, polite, discreet. With nothing but an old LinkedIn profile, there wasn’t much to see about him. Well, in the meaning of personality.

Dave was attractive. And married.

That being said, you couldn’t see yourself as the purest of the souls for feeling such a magnetism towards him. You wouldn’t come to some excuse, to say that the looks you sent his way had this uncontrollable intensity because, hey, you would go feral over him. It wasn’t true. If you wanted, if you tried hard enough, Dave would be just someone from work. What gave you some sense of preservation was that you’d never give the first step. What took it away from you was that if he asked, if he suggested, you wouldn’t… be contrary to the idea. But you would say no.

“Did you hear?” Alessia, a fellow friend, came to your desk with fast steps and a weird eagerness.

“Hear what?” You raised your head nonchalantly, ready for whatever gossip she had on her because… Well, Alessia never hid her intense interest in whatever off-work situation was happening around the office.

She eyed your surroundings, surprisingly making sure no one was listening - it seemed so odd that you yourself looked around as well, frowning at the sudden mystery around whatever topic she would bring.

“You know Dave York, right?” Alessia whispered, body leaning over your desk.

“... Yes?”

“He’s getting divorced.”

“WHAT.”

“Shut up!” She shushed you with a scolding, enough to make you tap your mouth shut almost immediately.

“How do you-Fuck, Alessia, how do you know that?” You asked after composing your discreet tone, not even daring to pretend you weren’t interested in what sounded like a huge lie.

Dave loved his family, he acted like a girl-dad-family-guy type of man, even if in subtle ways - to not involve any business thing with personal issues. From what you saw, which wasn’t much, he would at least be in a couple therapy. Hell, Dave would fucking try. And given the number of women around the building who gave him intentional glances and flirty lines, you would know by now if he had given up to the ‘temptation’.

You felt bad for thinking of him like that, like he was a cheater, even if it was common for guys like him. There were other reasons for people to divorce, especially if you’re working on a job that takes so much of your time and-

“... I might’ve been passing by his assistant’s desk and eventually listened to her talking on the phone…”

“Alessia.” You warned.

“It wasn’t on purpose, I swear! Dave is… Well, he’s nice with us. I wouldn’t snoop through his things, he’s not Dawson or that stupid Mark Russo-”

“Mark Rudolph.”

“Yeah, whatever.” She waved you off. “The point is that she mentioned something about Dave being kinda unstable because of marital crises. Divorce. Her words, not mine.”

All of this sounded so secretive, so intimate; you know Alessia enough to be comforted by the idea of her not spreading the news. She was too curious, but not cruel to prejudice Dave or his assistant. All in all, she would just bring the subject up again in the privacy of your lunch breaks or night outs - nothing more sexy than that.

“... Oh.”

“That’s all you have? Oh?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know, engage! How could you not be surprised by it?”

“I don’t look surprised?”

“You look lost.”

Because you were. During your lifetime, you had your fair share of big news or surprises - an aunt of yours assuming that she was lesbian in her late 50s, your college grades being enough to have a job in the government, finding out that losing your virginity wasn’t that big a deal. The difference was that they were all expectations, things you imagined in a way and turned out to be something else. Well, you could guess that your aunt could have inclinations. Applying for an office job in Governmental Security, in the CIA, was your first option since high school. You had at least 5 friends telling you that sex wasn’t great.

You couldn’t guess, in your spare time with the senior agents, that Dave York would be divorced.

“... We shouldn’t be speculating,” You said in a defensive tone, adjusting yourself in your seat and looking back at the computer screen.

“Don’t act so innocent, yeah? I know you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, so you think you’re always so subtle about the biggest crush you-”

“Shhhhh! Are you out of your fucking mind?!” Your desperate shout came lower than her clear intention to fuzz with your absence of reaction. A hiss, you could say, with your hand slapping her wrist.

Alessia grinned like the devil itself.

“Just sayin’,” She raised her hands in defeat, straightening her stance and looking you over with a smirk. “He’s officially on now, baby.”

“Get the fuck outta here.”

And if you felt your cheeks and neck burn - if you knew that this was because she was kinda right, you blinked a few times and got back to your work.

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

“Hold on!”

You’d heard it before you saw whoever the person was - you just held the elevator’s doors with a small ‘oof’ and dizzy feet. Just when you smelled the perfume, when you heard, again, the same voice but with a soft low tone saying a single thanks, you noticed who it was.

Fuck.

Seeing Dave standing there, both hands on his pockets with a neutral expression, not even giving you a side glance to notice your surprise. You cleared your throat, turned your heated face to the side and watched the doors closing - him staying on one side of the thing, you almost being swallowed by the wall from the other.

You unconsciously passed your hands over your dress. A new one, in a color you liked. You were so fucking nervous, as if the conversation with Alessia made you a criminal of something you shouldn’t be interested about. And, well, you weren’t, you know? It's just… Ugh.

“Seventh floor?” The sudden question made you turn to him with a frown.

“... What?”

“You’re going to the seventh floor?”

“Oh. Oh, yeah, we… Our department changed to this floor.” No etiquette towards the topic of just saying ‘yes’ or ‘no’. You needed to embarrass yourself.

Dave smiled in comprehension, then nodded his head.

“Has it been recently?”

“Three months.”

“Mm.”

And you looked at him, when you dared to give him more of a real glance, you noticed that he was still watching your nervous stance with a small pleased grin on his face. You smiled back - not with the same confidence, of course, but that was something at least.

“I’ll take notes from now on.” Dave said after a long elevator ride in silence, right when you were leaving him there alone. You turned around, saw the same grin staring back at you. “That you’re on the seventh floor now.”

It seemed sweet enough, polite for a colleague; you couldn’t help but smile at the amused tone of his voice and his ease into making small talk.

“Yes.”

And even if it was regular, not odd or invasive, you stood there in the corridor, after the doors were closed and the elevator kept going up, up, up…

You stared at the thing until Alessia came by your side, asking what took you so long.

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

For better or worse, you didn't tell Alessia about the little encounter with Dave, or the others that happened over the next few weeks. It wasn't like there was a point A and a point B - he was kind, polite and subtle in his approaches, as you would see him doing with any other colleague. You were conveniently there and the interactions were never awkward in any way.

The said magnetism was there. Your attraction as well. For that very reason, you kept everything there, in the professional line of things, where the schedule of occupations and spaces on the seventh floor were always more convenient. And until you could gather reliable information, one that didn’t come with too much excitement from Alessia because damn you loved her but she could be really delusional, you decided to keep it cool, on your quiet side of the things, without big hopes or inventful ideas. Or let your imagination flow to-

“Good afternoon?”

You gasped at the voice, startled by the sudden noise in the middle of such a quiet room, and when you turned around, pencil in hand, you saw Dave standing in the doorway with a small smile on his face.

“Hi! Erm-” You cleared your throat, blinking a few times. “Hi. Dave. Sorry for that, I was distracted. Wasn’t expecting anyone here… so… soon.”

“Yeah, a meeting of mine ended early and I thought I'd use the free time to check some emails before we start here. Do you mind?” He pointed at one of the empty chairs, not daring to move before you could nod. “Thanks.”

It was unconscious the way you rubbed your hands on the fabric of your dress before going back to the board and writing the topics Joe had asked for - it was as if your palms were suddenly wet with a taut, unexpected sweat. And to be fair, you never really liked Joe's traditional handwriting method; PowerPoints would cut your time on your feet and certainly save you the trouble of writing or erasing the same things over and over to make your handwriting minimally legible, but it would do you some good to keep yourself busy with something while being alone with York.

It also seemed like the kind of situation that was pretty depressing for your morale. With Dave there, you'd need to limit your curses and defeated mutters to each erase, which revealed itself to be a stressing quest. You would hate to give him the impression that you hated what you were doing even if you did - Dave could be nice, but he wouldn’t stop himself from giving Joe his opinions about your behavior.

And, well, you kind of needed the job.

All the silence in the room, interrupted now and then by the pen scratching the whiteboard, was only interrupted after a good few minutes, when he decided to speak.

“Do you-”

“Yes?”

Your quickness to turn with visible stress and discomfort had him frowning, then looking down at the way your fingers tightened around the pen. Maybe it just wasn't a good day or the situation itself was always this stressful, but your shoulders were tight and your posture tense. No, that wasn't it. It wasn't Dave or the writing on the board. Meetings involving Joe would always put you on edge - days of prep, practically doing all the work for charts and data, and even information you barely had access to, all to receive other types of demands that left you stuck with too much work.

Dave noticed that.

“... Do you have news from Eleanor?” Being decent enough for that, he decided to ask this instead, which made you blink a few times, as if waiting for a blow that never came. “I end up getting few updates on how she is doing. I've been pretty busy lately and I couldn't congratulate her. It's a boy, isn't it?”

Oh. Oh, yeah. Eleanor. His assistant, who became a mother recently and was out on maternity leave. That Eleanor.

“Yes. I think his name is Bryan. Or John. Or Bryan John or John Bryan… I’m not sure.”

“Seems like something she would choose,” He said with an amused smile. “And as much as I want her to take her time, I admit that I miss her around here.”

“Yeah, well, not everyone can replace an assistant.”

“You’re right. Joe is the lucky one to have you, always ready to provide and organized. If he didn't waste your time with such nonsense-”

“Nonsense?”

“I could-Yes, nonsense-I could use some help. Or just take you for me already.”

The joking tone made you scoff a giggle, hiding your mouth with your hand and averting his gaze. Dave was giggling as well, but with a huge confidence - not tearing his eyes away, measuring your reaction. When you raised your eyes again, he still had that attentive face.

“I’m sure there’s other great assistants willing to help you.”

“Well, I haven't found these ones yet. If you ever know where to find them, don’t hesitate to tell me.”

“Of course,” You smiled, not being able to help but feel a little shy at the attention.

When Joe appeared shortly afterwards, along with the few who would also be present at the meeting, the topic died down, but you got the impression that Dave kept a focused look in your direction for a while longer before getting distracted with work.

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

If you're being completely honest, you knew you were the kind of person that other people took time to feel the kind of sexual appreciation for. It took a while, without love at first sight or passionate looks - it was like unveiling a beauty that perhaps wasn't clear at first. Alessia said that you were very modest and inattentive, that people looked at you or that you didn't really notice flirting because people did; you'd rather think that you just occupied yourself with different things and, you know, that's okay. It was a normal enough life within the work you did.

You didn't have a car, despite knowing how to drive a little (with a short list of incidents in your history), so you always took the bus or train or, on difficult days, a taxi or Uber. This, of course, when there were no extraordinary conditions, such as extended working hours because Joe made you stay. That day, you were busy with a lot of documentation that had come to you late. Alessia even offered to give you a ride, but she had a date that night and you knew it would get in the way. 'That’s okay,' you said, and then saw the entire floor empty completely as the hours passed.

When you took an elevator with a defeated sigh, around eight, you thought you would be able to get the difficult day's transport; it was dangerous to walk at that time of night, of course. But then you ended up on the sidewalk of the building, no battery on your phone and not even a sight of a taxi nearby. Fine. Fine. Yeah, totally fine. That was the epitome of your career, of working with Joe, of… being a fucking ‘good employee’ just so that motherfucker could-

“Hey!”

You turned around at the sound of the voice, startled to see Dave parking his car in front of you and leaning over the passenger seat to grab your attention from the desperate swipes you made on your phone. He was smiling politely at you, waiting for a reaction you didn’t give for a few seconds.

“Hey,” You said with a small smile. “I didn’t know you were working late.”

“Yeah, had some stuff to do,” He shrugged. “Are you waiting for someone?”

“No, I’m just trying to find a ride home. My phone’s off, I can’t call an Uber and there’s no taxis around.”

Dave raised his eyebrows, looking around and nodding a little.

“You live nearby?”

“I wouldn’t say nearby, but…”

“I can give you a ride.”

The offer made you blink dumbly at him for a moment, phone in one hand and purse in the other.

“No, no, I don’t want to bother.” You waved him off with a smile.

“It's late and it's getting cold. I would hate to leave you here when I can leave you at home,” He argued, still without losing his friendly smile and soft tone. “I'll drop you off.”

You could say 'no', you could insist that a taxi would show up soon or that you could just use his phone to order an Uber, but you knew it would be in vain because Dave was insistent and might get upset if you refused to accept the ride from him. Besides, who were you kidding? It was a ride from Dave York, the guy you were really interested in. What other opportunity would you have to learn more about him, even just a little, outside of work?

“... Okay then,” You conceded with a nod, hearing his ‘attagirl’ while he let you enter his car. Once inside, you put the seatbelt on and kept your purse firmly on your lap to keep your hands busy. “Thank you.”

“It’s okay. What are co-workers if not to help in these difficult times?” And he said it so nonchalantly, using one of his hands to simply touch your knee in a friendly manner before putting it back on the steering wheel, that when you finally noticed the action, you also noticed that you left him hanging on a question about why you were there so late.

“Joe gave me some paperwork at the end of the day and the deadline was tomorrow,” You said, seeing the way he frowned.

“Does he always do this? Make you stay alone here until late?”

Well, you didn’t want to complain, it would be unprofessional. But you were so tired, so done with Joe’s shit, that you couldn’t help but say something about it.

“He’s always saying it’s work.”

Dave scoffed.

“This is ridiculous.”

You nodded, eyeing the streets silently. That was the beginning and the end of the conversation, with you just giving basic instructions of where you live. During this time, you noticed a few things inside the car; small things, like the childlike ornament on the inside rearview mirror or the pleasant scent of bergamot or the soft music from the radio station that played almost like a discreet soundtrack. He looked as organized there as he was in the office, without a crumb of food on the inside or a stain on the dashboard. Everything was impeccable.

“You know, that job to be my assistant is still open.” The sudden comment made you turn to him with surprise. Dave was already on the street where you lived and you thought he wouldn’t say anything else, but that made you frown.

“What?”

“There’s a big chance that Eleanor will not be back. I’m gonna need someone to help me.”

“But…” You considered. “I'm sure the agency has a list of more experienced people for you.”

He smiled at that, parking right in front of your building and turning his body to you, one arm hanging on the steering wheel and the other brushing his chin.

“I think you have enough experience for what I need. And believe me, I’m meticulous when it comes to choosing who I want to work with, and I’ve been watching you for some time.”

Really?

“Really?”

“Mm-hm. I always envied Joe for having someone so valuable on his team, I already told you that. And let's face it, as a senior agent, I can give you more benefits and I certainly don't intend to keep you working late into the night.”

That made you smile a little, shaking your head and eyeing the street ahead with uncertainty.

“... I need to think about it.”

“Hey,” He brushed his fingers on your jaw, making you turn your eyes at him again. Get your shit together, woman, for the love of God… “No pressure, yeah? You take your time to consider. And if you’re afraid of how Joe might react, I’ll deal with him.”

“O-Okay…”

“Tell me your decision when you feel like it,” Dave leaned in, disconnecting your seatbelt and brushing his hand on your shoulder, then opened your door. “I would be happy to work with you anyhow.”

“Okay,” You repeated yourself, nodding and getting out of the car. “Thanks for the ride, Dave. And for the opportunity.”

“Anything, honey. Good night.”

He sped down the street and you stood for a long time on the sidewalk outside your building thinking about a few things: you should take your charger to work, Joe was an asshole, Dave York gave you a ride (his car smelled really good, like him), he had been paying attention to you and… God, he called you 'honey'?

Yeah, definitely get your shit together.

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

It was like having one foot outside. In the morning, all it took was for Joe to send you an email saying that you should pick up his suits from the dry cleaners and, as soon as you arrived at work (without the suits), you went to the ninth floor and, effectively, to Dave's office.

He had the same charming smile he always had when you said you accepted the job.

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

It was a curiously peaceful transfer, most likely due to the bureaucratic situation between Dave, a higher caliber agent, and Joe. Dave's room was much larger, with large windows and good lighting, and everything seemed much more comfortable. You felt impressed and wanted to impress.

Eleanor told you everything, but curiously she didn't know how Dave liked his coffee or his favorite restaurant for lunch. She mentioned that he never asked her that kind of thing, and when you mentioned it to Alessia, she said that maybe that was why people liked him there (apart from, as she herself mentioned, 'his nice, toned ass in stockings age').

As soon as you started, he had a two-week trip to Brussels. This gave you time to get used to his routine, with calendars and schedules, even with who he preferred to talk to or who should leave messages on your desk. All the effort (that you convinced yourself that came from a place of pure professionalism) had some return when he arrived that morning, after the trip, with a smile on his face and his casual blue suit, Dave had two cups of coffee on his hand, accompanied by a small paper bag from Starbucks.

“I unfortunately didn't have time to bring the champagne,” He teased, handing you a cup and the bag. “Latte and cinnamon roll, right?”

“How did you-”

“Alessia.”

Hah. Of course. That would explain why she sent you a million morning texts telling you she would be the one bringing you coffee.

“That's very kind of you,” You said with a smile. “But it's a shame I don't know yet which coffee you like.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Dave reassured, walking in the direction of his office and observing you from head to toe. “That's not the first thing I value in an assistant like you.”

Like you. Of course you didn’t know what it meant, but you tried not to read into it. Either way, you smiled a little while sipping on your coffee and eating the cinnamon roll, touched by the considerate act.

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

It would always be a cliché for the boss and the secretary to have such a passionate and fiery affair. At the CIA, there were very strict rules about this type of behavior, but they didn't have the same weight as not being able to tell government secrets or being one of those retired guys who went on TV documentaries to talk about how aliens existed. The break rooms were full of true stories of similar cases, just like an everyday convenience, so it was normal when, over time, people started to speculate or make jokes about your relationship with Dave.

At first, you just denied it with a smile. Little by little, everyone started to believe, because ethically speaking, Dave never showed any signs of giving you some kind of special treatment compared to anyone there. The curious thing was that, as people let the speculation cool, you noticed some kind of tension between the two of you.

After the first month, he started to have subtle touches on some part of your body: fingers that brushed your back when you two took the elevator together and he told you to go first, or touches of his fingertips as he asked about the color of your nails. Sometimes, unconsciously, he would stay close enough while showing something on your computer and then, before leaving, he would give your shoulder a brief squeeze before leaving.

Between the second and fourth, more or less, the stares began. At first you thought he was just staring into space in contemplation or reasoning, with you conveniently there in his eyesight, but then it seemed more like a deliberate action. You felt him watching and the next thing you knew, Dave was smiling like nothing had happened before going back to work.

From the fifth to the sixth, he started bringing you small gifts from trips he took. From Canada, a pair of winter socks; from Malta, a ceramic set of espresso cups; from Spain, a Manila shawl. They progressed from small considerations for your services to finally 'I remembered you when I saw this' and 'I thought it would go with your kitchen'. He gave you rides, paid for your lunch, complimented your hair or your nails or your skirt or your shoes and sometimes he just kept staring, as if paying attention to something.

Dave, that same man who you labored a regular interest in, wore the same tailored clothes, the ones that accentuated his body, revealing potentially strong thighs and a perfect physical structure for someone his age. At that point, though, being so close, you knew he bit pen caps when he was focused, ran his hands through his hair when he was tense, and always left two buttons on his shirt open after the last meeting of the day was over. His hands were an interesting counterpoint, steady and reflective of manual labor, even though he was always impeccable.

That all meant you were noticing each other.

Deep down, in fact, you just had the impression that he was naturally inclined to know everything from a person who would be so close to his routine, his professional environment and his life as a whole, and therefore, he would always know everything about you unconsciously while you would only know what he wanted you to know.

“Oh, what’s the special occasion?”

The question caught you by surprise, enough to make you gasp. Dave was entering his office nonchalantly, looking at you with an amused frown. You were just putting some paperwork on his desk when he came back from a meeting.

“... What?”

“Your dress. I’ve never seen you wear this one before,” He pointed out. “And it’s way too cool for the environment.”

Oh yeah, the dress. The dress you were almost dying for him to notice, but you didn’t get so lucky because of how busy his morning was - enough for not being able to see him until that exact moment, after lunch time. The dress you chose carefully at a shopping trip with Alessia, one she approved, one that was new. It was an earthy shade of brown, kind of satiny and fitted to your body almost like a glove. It wasn't really a dress, it was a discrete set - the tighter shirt had a few buttons and the skirt complemented it, as it was the same color, in a harmonious way. Well, those were things Alessia had told you. In a way, you agreed. You felt good in the morning when you wore it and you were feeling good (in a different way) about the fact that Dave paid attention; finally paid attention.

“I hope I'm not straying from dress protocol,” You said, trying to sound funny or collected about his comment. He smiled, walking closer.

“Wouldn’t say you did it,” Dave stood two steps away, both hands inside his pockets while, without any shame, looking at the extent of your body. “You are quite distracting, but I don’t think you can help it. Wearing this or not, you’re a pretty woman who happens to wear pretty clothes.”

You blinked at him a few times, taking notes on the way he said it so casually, without a single tone of flirting, then turned around his desk to go through his day.

“So? Any special occasion?” He pressed calmly, focusing on the papers in front of him.

“... No! No, I mean… I’ll go for a few drinks with some friends from work. Alessia, some other assistants… Happy hour.”

“Oh,” Unimpressed. “Seems like you’ll have a lotta fun tonight then.”

“So-so.”

“So-so?”

“Joe will be there too.”

With your time working together with Dave, you began to expose small aggressions and positions that Joe used to have. It wasn't anything serious, it was even 'normal', like comments that came very close to inappropriate and absurd during working hours. In the beginning, you mentioned things he did to others, things that Dave had often witnessed. When you told him about yourself, about what Joe directed at you, about the calls for drinks and rides that you always politely declined, Dave even apologized if he was being invasive. You said no. After that, he got weird when he heard about the guy.

Mentioning this to him made you watch that same reaction. He raised his eyes at you with a big scowl, papers forgotten and a stern expression on his face.

“Will he.” Dave said in an emotionless tone, as if making sure you said it right.

“Yeah, some agents will, in fact,” You nodded. “You could come by too if you want to. I know it’s not your kind of thing, but maybe, I don’t know, you could decompress a little?”

The offer was left hanging in the air for quite some time, with him staring at you without a reaction. You waited for a decline, really, because Dave wasn’t one of going out with coworkers just because. But then, all of the sudden, his face relaxed, he smiled and became a whole different person in a matter of seconds.

“‘Would love to, honey. Just don’t want to interrupt your complainings about the bosses ‘round here,” He teased, going back to the papers once again, being all playful.

“We’ll be careful to keep it away from your ears,” The answer made him giggle.

“Just tell me when and where, yeah?”

“I will.”

You left his room satisfied, even if not so hopeful that he would really appear at that get-together. Perhaps, and that could be a fair statement, obnoxious of how Dave’s face fell into that same ugly scowl with the reminder of Joe’s presence still surrounding your social life - or your life, in general.

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

“What are you looking at?” Alessia asked, pushing a drink in your hand and following your eyesight at the door. You just averted your gaze, sipping in a way too strong cup of gin and vodka.

“Nothin’.”

“It must be something. Should we be waiting for someone else?”

Dammit, why did this woman know you so well?

“... I just…” You looked around, making sure none of your coworkers would hear you two. “I invited Dave.”

“YOU DI-”

“Shut up!” Preventing the storm of words coming out of her mouth, you shushed her off, giving another wary look around the bar. “I offered. Nothing more than that.”

“And I assume he said yes?!”

“He did.”

“Oh,” She raised her eyebrows. “Bold of you.”

“Yeah, I can see it.”

“No, seriously. That’s the most brave thing you did since that dude from IT.”

“Really?” You made a face at her.

“Just sayin’, baby, sorry. But let’s hope he comes by, give us some good talk instead of this… whatever this is with Joe and his guys.”

Over her shoulder, exactly where she pointed out, you saw Joe sharing some of those suspicious laughs with some other fellow agents, obviously saying something that your colleagues couldn’t find funny in the slightest. You sipped on your drink again, raising an eyebrow at her and shrugging.

“Let’s hope.”

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

It was a long night, even if it was fun despite the company. You moderated your alcohol intake, laughed with your friends, knew how to dismiss Joe's mean or typically provocative comments. He behaved, somehow, at least for what anyone could expect from him, and the problem was just that his whole personality was just annoying. By the end of the encounter, later on, with people disappearing and any sign that Dave might appear had already vanished, you decided to call it a night, phone in hand, ordering an Uber for you and Alessia.

Chilly night, peaceful street - not a lot of cars available, which didn’t bother your friend, who leaned against the brick wall on the sidewalk, lighting a cigarette and staring at the sky during what seemed like a really good drunk state. You kept an eye on her from time to time, splitting your attention between her and the phone screen, sometimes seeing those drunk eyes looking at people passing by or just wandering around.

You turned your back for a second, anxious at the possibility of finally getting a car and-

“Hey!”

It wasn’t aggressive, nor harsh, but you jumped at the possibility of drunk-Alessia interacting with anyone by any means. When you snapped your head in her direction again, ready to start a fight or anything that she could throw your way, you saw that it wasn’t the case - that she was smiling at the sight of the person approaching.

“You’re, like, really late” She said to Dave, narrowing her eyes to see the time on her wrist watch and then waving it in front of his face.

“Got stuck with work, sorry,” He smiled apologetically, turning to you. “Last minute problem.”

“Is everything okay?” You asked, mind already working on what you could’ve forgotten to do before leaving to the bar.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry,” Dave waved you off. “I take it the night went well?”

“Except for that stupid Joe talking a lot of shit, it was good,” Alessia intervened, voice full of venom while blowing the smoke of her cigarette in the night air. “That bitch can’t shut the fuck up…”

“I think we’ve got the point, Alessia, thank you,” You scolded her, taking a few steps closer to make sure she was listening to you properly. She tsked, face turning to the side while she started to get distracted again.

That just made you huff, shaking your head while going back to your phone to find the damn Uber.

“No luck?” Dave asked.

“No, this just-” You raised your eyes in time to see him really closer, looking curiously at you and the phone screen. That made you stop in your tracks, clearing your throat before speaking again. “I’m not really lucky with this stuff, maybe.”

“Huh,” He grinned, looking around for a second. “I was hoping I could come by, but since your night ended early, I can give you two a ride.”

“That’s not really necess-”

“It is!” Alessia cheerfully said from behind Dave, raising both hands in the air. “My feet are killing me, baby…”

That made you roll your eyes.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” You said. “Really, Dave, you can have your drink, enjoy the night. We’ll find a ride to go back home.”

“I insist,” He pressed, one of his hands carefully placed on your right arm. “And anyway, I was planning on enjoying the night with good company. The only difference is that you’ll be in my car.”

Hah. How charming… You couldn’t help but smile at his statement, seeing from your peripheral that Alessia was smirking and making pouty kissy lips in your direction.

“... If you say so.”

“Yeah, he said so, can we go now?” The way your friend throwed the comment at you two made Dave grin grow wider.

“C’mon, ladies.”

He helped Alessia to sit properly on his back seat, even opened the door for you to sit at the passenger side. Took Alessia ten or fifteen seconds to pass out, sleeping soundly in a very embarrassing way. All the while, you sat there quiet, talking now and again to give directions to where your friend lived; Dave drove peacefully, right hand on the steering wheel while his left elbow was propped up on his open window, head tilted to the side.

You couldn’t help but pay attention, like any other moment you two were in the same room. He seemed tired, stern - work clothes still on, mind probably going somewhere else.

“You should start charging me, you know?” You decided to make small talk right after you two left Alessia at her place.

“Mm?” Dave hummed absently, not taking his eyes off the street.

“For these rides.”

He raised his eyebrows in acknowledgement, smiling a little.

“Should I?”

“Any other person with common sense would.”

For a moment, all he did was huff, but when you two stopped at a red light, Dave leaned comfortably on his seat and looked at you.

“You should know by now that I don’t play by common sense.”

“... No?” You frowned.

“Nn-nn. There’s a lot I prevent myself from doing that could have something to do with common sense.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Why not?” The traffic light changed and he started driving again, but now more attentive to what you were saying, almost amused by the way his face was softer.

“You’re the perfect example of someone who plays by common sense. Polite, well dressed, family man…” The last word made you hiss internally.

“Mm.” He didn’t seem affected by your words, by the slight mention of his family, because that was one of the things you two never talked about. Still, you could punch yourself in the face for that.

“I mean, the usual.”

“Makes sense.”

“Right.”

“But everyone has things that don't have to do with socially acceptable stuff,” It carried an intensity, the way he said it, one that made you shift in your seat and burn your cheeks.

You brushed your fingers on the fabric of your skirt, averted your gaze from him to watch the street. Deciding against your better judgment, or just being a coward, you didn’t elaborate.

“Joe behaved?” He asked after a beat of silence, changing the subject.

“On his own terms, yes.”

“‘Would hate to have another talk about his approach with my assistant.”

My assistant. Why did that sound slightly… No, no. Get your fucking shit together.

“You two… talked?” You asked with curiosity, clearly a little confused by such information. He clearly didn’t need to do that.

“Did I do it wrong?”

“I just don’t want to bring you any problems.”

“You’re not,” Dave reassured you, shaking his head. “You’re my friend, aren’t you? I like to be sure my friend has anything they need if I can help.”

Yeah, friend would be… Yeah. Friend. Huh. Friend.

“Fair point.”

“I know,” He smiled.

The rest of the ride went on in silence, but you couldn't tell for sure if you were comfortable or anxious or confused. Or all at the same time. It was like you felt bad for even trying to read beyond kindness, like an obsessed teenager interpreting signs that weren't there. Maybe he just thought that Joe's presence still hovering around him could interfere with the quality of his work and, therefore, he just made sure he stayed away. It made sense.

When you arrived at your house, it took you a while to get out of the car, with a strange delay. It was clear that you wanted to enjoy that almost intimate and private time with Dave, to be close, to talk about what the two of you could have talked about at the bar if he hadn't been busy with work. You wanted to continue feeling the electricity of being close, of attraction, of hearing his voice for longer, his laugh, his mannerisms.

“I have beer,” You said bluntly. “If you want to, you know.”

He stared at you for a moment, measuring your face and lightly licking his bottom lip, then using his thumb to brush his chin - that regular tick he had.

“It’s late.” He said.

“... I know, sorry, I-”

“But beer sounds good.”

At the same time as you felt relieved, you felt a feeling in the pit of your stomach of anticipation. You smiled, got out of the car and clenched your fists when you heard him do the same behind you, followed by his footsteps on the asphalt until you realized that you should start walking to your door. Dave followed silently, keeping a respectful distance but curiously watching you the entire time you invited him in.

He didn't look around your living room when you turned on the light, nor at the place where you left your bag and keys - Dave looked at you, at what you were doing, in a look that seemed to penetrate your insides. You made a comment about him not noticing the mess and he just shook his head. You started walking to the kitchen, asked him to follow you and he did, stopping next to the counter and, again, burning your back as he stared at you, taking the beers from the fridge.

It was safer to sit at the kitchen table, so you did. Only then, when you started making comments about what was talked about in the bar hours before, about how fun it was, did Dave re-engage in the conversation, losing all his silent and observant posture for a more conversational one. You managed to relax more, but your body felt the way his eyes went from your eyes to your mouth as you spoke, or to your throat as you took a sip of beer. And you could certainly never catch him making any of these observations, because they were quick, subtle, almost hallucinogenic, as if you were imagining it.

At some point during that conversation, when it was actually much later in the night, you were wearing no heels, he was wearing just one more button undone on his shirt and the two of you became more comfortable on the couch, extending what seemed like the first conversation you were having in months. It could be the buzz of the beer or the tiredness, but you started to notice more closely the same things he might have been noticing about you: the little skin that showed at the opening of his shirt, the fabric of his pants pressing against his half-open thighs, the mouth touching the bottle spout.

You didn't even pay attention to whether you were being discreet about it or not.

“It surprises me,” He said casually, pulling you out of your trance.

“What?” You asked.

“No boyfriend or girlfriend on the line for you?”

“No… I think I’m always busy enough for that.”

“I can give you some days off if you need,” He joked, which made you two giggle a little. “But really, I’m impressed there isn’t no one in the game for you.”

The words were out of your mouth before you could stop them.

“There actually is someone.”

Dave raised his eyebrows.

“Oh?”

“But it’s more like a platonic thing.”

“So a friend from work?”

Don’t answer that. Lie.

“Yes.”

“Do I know him?”

Lie!

“Maybe.”

He nodded his head, contemplating your answer carefully without taking his eyes off you. There was a pregnant pause, with you both just looking at each other without saying anything.

He was the one who approached first.

It wasn't something blatant, like grabbing a person out of nowhere, but it felt more like a probe, as if he was testing the waters before moving forward. You let him, because you knew it was incredibly sensual to see him take such small, subtle steps towards the end of all your doubts. He just adjusted his position and sat a little closer, placing one arm stretched across the back of the couch, his fingers almost touching your shoulder but not enough.

“So I am your will outside of common sense?” Dave asked in a low voice, head tilted to the side while he brought the same fingers close to the collar of your shirt, brushing the fabric calmly without losing eye contact. You swallowed hard, feeling a heat between your legs and the most irregular beating of your heart.

“... Mm-hm.”

“I see…” He hummed, moving his hand closer to your face, the tip of his fingers now grazing the skin of your neck, up to your jaw, cheek, the bridge of your nose and then the cupid bow of your lips.

That wandering tip of his finger booped the tip of your nose lightly, almost playfully, with a smile growing on his face at your lack of answer.

“I've always admired your facility with words, dear. Why are you suddenly so quiet with me?”

You blinked a few times at the call out.

“What do you want me to say?”

“That you want me, for starters. At least just as much as I want you.”

“How can I say that if I don’t know how much you want me?” It was your turn to be the smartass, but he liked it, biting his bottom lip.

“There we go, there’s my good girl back…” Dave leaned in even more, breath touching the corner of your mouth. “You’ll have to earn this info, baby. That’s how it works. Wanna know how to do it?”

You nodded.

“Words.” He used a stern tone, eye to eye.

“Yes,” Was your answer, one that came out breathly from the proximity.

“You’ll take your clothes off, then you’ll bounce on my cock like I know you dreamed of doing. I’m sure you’re already wet, I can fucking feel it. And you’re always so efficient, I know you can do it effortlessly.”

Dave had a commanding presence, a calm but stern way of ordering. He walked away, smiling like a rascal when he saw you try to follow the heat of his mouth with a pathetic movement of your head, and sat comfortably on the sofa, legs open and both hands resting on his thighs. You would find it ridiculous if it were anyone else, but it was Dave, so you unconsciously started to go for the buttons of your shirt.

“Get up,” He interrupted your movements. “‘Want you to put on a show for me.”

And damn, you did it. You got up, wobbling a little from arousal, standing in front of his spread legs and getting even more hot with his lustful gaze. Tentatively, you unzipped your skirt and moved your hips so it fell to your feet. As soon as you opened each button on your shirt, he lifted your hips a little off the couch, taking one of his hands to adjust his hard on. It was a scene you certainly wouldn't forget.

“Nah,” Dave raised a single finger before you could open your bra. “Changed my mind. Sit here.”

Again, you obliged, both hands on his shoulders for support while you straddled his waist. He seemed distracted by your lingerie, looking and analyzing you, running his hand over the straps, then over the transparent fabric that barely covered your nipples, attentive to the care he was directing towards them. When you sighed at the contact, he leaned his head and gave one of them a small kiss through the fabric, making you whimper.

He was so hard against your covered core, you almost moved your hips for some friction, but before you had the chance, Dave grabbed the sides of your panties, pulling them up and pressing the fabric against your throbbing clit. The motherfucker was playing with you, observing each change in your expression at the teasing.

“Such a pretty pussy…” There was an amused tone there too when he pulled the panties to the side and brushed his knuckles on that sensitive area. “What’s taking you so long to fuck yourself on me, hon? Go on. Take it off.”

Gaining some ‘decency’, you went to his belt, easily opening his pants and taking in the sight of a big and really hard cock that was melting with pre cum. You couldn’t help but lick your lips at the sight, of being able to hold it against your palm and pump him a few times. He groaned at the stimulation, as if warning you to go faster, to fucking sit on it, so you obliged again, stretching yourself with his length and moaning at the sensation of being so full.

“Thaaaat’s it,” Dave gripped your hips firmly, growling. “Get used to it, baby. Stretch that pussy, get used to my cock so you can have it anytime you want.”

“Yeah?” You panted.

“Mm-hm,” That was all the encouragement you needed to start moving, rolling your hips and going up and down slowly, savoring the moment with him. “Since the first time I saw you looking at me, begging me to fuck you good, I wanted to bend you over that desk and give exactly what you’re asking. Because that’s what you wanted, eh? Wanted me to fuck this pussy?”

“Yes… Fuck, yes…” You closed your eyes at his words, aroused by the discovery that your desire didn’t go unnoticed by him.

“So do it. Prove to me that this lingerie is for me, not for Joe.”

Dave was frowning in concentration when you blinked at him. The admission seemed coherent, like all the reactions he had about you mentioning Joe started to make sense. Fuck, he was jealous and that was so hot.

“Jealous?” You smirked, speeding up the movements of your hips against his.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fucking jealous,” He slapped one of your ass cheeks, bringing your face closer with a hand wrapped possessively on the nape of your neck. “Jealous that he got to get you, to talk to me about how hot you were and that you’re not mine. Almost taught him a lesson, almost fucking killed him…”

It could be a reaction of the intensity of the moment, but you thought it was so hot that all you could do was moan. Suddenly, then, you were on your back on the couch, with him sealing your lips in a harsh and wet kiss, pounding inside of you restlessly.

“All mine, you hear me? You’re mine,” Dave bit your bottom lip harshly, making you taste blood on your tongue, then touched your forehead with his. “Say it.”

“I…” You were close, so close, faster than with any other partner you ever had in your bed before. “I’m yours, Dave… Yours…”

“That’s it, you’re mine. Fucking mine,” He got on his knees, putting your legs up around his hips, going even more deeper while watching him disappearing inside you. “Joe doesn’t get to fuck you like this, I do.”

Taken by the same lust as you, he groaned when he noticed you getting your orgasm with a high moan, wrapping his fingers around your neck for stability while not stopping the movement of his hips. The slap sound of skin on skin made you go crazy, gripping his arms with the sensation of your second orgasm coming in full force.

He came a lot. Taking deep breaths, you just felt all of his seed inside, but also dripping around your thighs and probably wetting the cushions below you two. All of this, all of the intensity, and Dave was fully dressed.

“Are you okay?” His voice was soft again, nothing like the savage he’d been minutes before. With the weight of him on top of you, his breath on your neck and his come on your legs, all you could do was nod. “Words.”

The second order made you put your arms around his torso, holding him close.

“I am, Dave. I am.”

He groaned a little to support himself on his hands, eyeing you from above and taking in your cock drunk expression.

“You look even more gorgeous like that,” The comment made you smile shyly at him. “Been jerking off for quite some time imagining your face after I fucked you, not I’ll need to do more times so I can’t forget.”

“I’m willing to help.”

“Good,” He smiled, leaning down to kiss you slowly and sensually, probably tasting a little blood from your injured lip. “Because I’ll fucking tear you apart.”

#dave york x reader #female reader #dave york fic #dave york smut #dave york x you #equalizer 2 #dave york fanfiction #dave york x female reader #pedro pascal

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devils-dares · 2 years

Text

Safe and Sound

summary: what happens when matt finds a little girl hiding from her dad in her room and takes her home.

pairing: matt with unnamed!child!oc

wordcount: 2842

warnings: abuse, mentions of abuse, mentions of abandonment, mentions of death, a father being shitty to a child, crying. like a lot of crying. matt having attachment issues, mentions of bluey the show, scraped knees, ends semi-sad.

a/n: this isn't x reader, because i thought that would be kind of strange to write in this instance. this is really just headcanons turned into a fic, been sitting on it for like a month. let me know if you guys want a part two.

comments and reblogs appreciated!

-----

Matt couldn't begin to understand how this day was ending. A long day in court followed by anger management patrol, and now he's in some little girl's room shushing her before she cries and alerts her already drunk and aggressive dad.

"Hey, hey! It's okay, it's just me! Do you know who I am?"

"No but you look scary, please go away."

"I'm here to help you get away from your dad, but you gotta be real quiet alright?"

"Are those horns?" Matt rubs the forehead on the mask.

"Yes they are, and if you come with me I'll let you touch them, but I gotta get you out of here."

"Are you the stranger danger man?" He needed to find a way to get her out of here.

"I'll explain everything if you can pack a bag with everything you need so we can leave alright?" She nods reluctantly, grabbing what seemed to be her school bag.

"It's a Bluey bag. You know Bluey?"

"I don't."

"Boring." She walks over to him, and he takes the bag from her, slinging Bluey over the coarse armor. He steps out onto the fire escape, signaling the girl to follow him.

"Wait!" She whispers, "I'm scared of heights." He beckons her over still, yet she holds steadfast in her grip on the window frame.

"Will it be better if I hold you?" He asks, and she nods, so he picks her up, arm wrapped around her as her legs wrap around his hip and her head thunks on his shoulder.

Matt wracks his brain on where to take her for the night. He could just take her to a police department or a hospital, but there’s no evidence of harm on her, and they’d just return her. Crisis centers weren’t open 24/7, and the only place he could think of was his own apartment.

This was a stupid idea.

She was shaking, the poor girl, when they reached Matt’s rooftop. She couldn’t have been older than seven, and she was freezing cold. Her breaths froze midair, amusing her slightly as she kept making huffing noises next to Matt’s ear.

“We’re here.” He says, gently placing her on the ground before opening to the rooftop door.

“Head inside, it should be warm.” Her shoes tip tap down the stairs, pausing at the bottom.

“Where are we?” She asks.

“My apartment.” He sighs, scratching at his chin.

“Are you going to hurt me?” She asks.

“I’m not going to hurt you, but if you could tell me about your dad, I can make sure you never get hurt by him again.” Her body jolts ever so slightly at the sound of the title.

“How did you know?” Childish wonder pours through her voice, but Matt can hear the undertones of skepticism.

“I heard your mom scream.”

“Not my mom, dad’s girlfriend.”

“Okay,” Matt listens, “tell me more. Does he do it often?” She pauses, and then nods.

“All the time.”

“Has he hurt you recently?” She nods again, then pulls both her pant legs to above her knees. Matt smells dried blood.

“He pushed me.” She says simply, and Matt feels his hands curl tightly into fists.

“I’m going to get you something for that.” He walks to the bathroom, and she wraps her arms around her stomach, trying her best to make herself appear smaller.

“I got you some bandaids and some antibiotic cream, but I gotta clean it first okay?” He gestures to her to sit on the chair by the dining table and kneels in front of her.

“Do you have the bandaids with the smiley faces?”

“Hm, no. But I can draw on these ones with a marker?”

“Okay.” She did not sound amused.

“Can you take the helmet off?” She asks, touching the horns.

“I can,” he says, “but you have to promise not to tell anyone, okay?” She nods enthusiastically, and his fingers graze the helmet before tugging it off.

“I’m going to clean your scrapes now.” He says. Her whines break his heart when he presses the alcohol wipe to her raw skin.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He says, and he can tell her bottom lip is quivering as the smell of salt fills the air. He goes through it as quickly as possible, grabbing the marker behind him to cheer her up.

“Want smiley faces?” He asks, and her mood shifts almost immediately. She wipes her tears away and nods. She watches as he finds the edges of the bandaid with his thumb, drawing within the barrier he created with his fingers. It’s then that she notices that he’s not made eye contact with anything.

“All done.” Matt stands up, smiling at her.

“Are you blind?”

“Oh- uh- yes. I am.” He rubs the back of his neck, as if he’s been cornered.

“That’s cool.”

“Cool?”

“I’ve never met a blind person before.”

“Oh.”

“Can I ask about stuff?”

“About being blind?” She hums.

“Okay,” Matt says, grabbing her a glass of water from the kitchen and some snacks, she must be hungry, “but you gotta eat these and drink this while you ask, I don’t want you going hungry.”

“‘M not hungry.” Right on cue, her stomach growls.

“You sure about that?” She grumbles and takes the snack.

“How does the cane help?” Her voice comes out mumbled from her stuffing her face.

“It helps by telling me what I’m going over, like if I’m going to run into something, or if I’m going to hit a curb. It also helps people know that I’m blind.”

“What color are your glasses?” He laughs.

“I’m told they’re red.”

“Red glasses are cool.”

“Thank you.” She falls silent, the only sound coming from her chewing.

“Are those two the only questions you had?” He asks, amused.

“Mhm.”

“Okay, is it alright if I leave you for a bit? Just to take a shower?”

“Do you have Bluey?”

“I’m- not sure what Bluey is on.”

“Do you have a tv?”

“I have a laptop.”

“Gimme.”

He gets her set up with the show, and before he steps into the bathroom, she has another question.

“Why is there a man talking on the computer?”

“What do you mean?”

“This man is not on Bluey.”

“Oh! Those are audio descriptions, they help me ‘watch’ tv by describing what’s happening. Here, I can turn it off for you.”

-----

Matt’s rubbing his damp hair dry with a towel when he emerges from the bathroom. The kid’s not on the couch, and Matt realizes she’s rummaging around the kitchen.

“Are you still hungry?” He asks, checking the time on his watch. It was just half past two in the morning.

“I didn’t have breakfast or dinner,” she explains, “just stinky school lunch. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I don’t think I have anything you’ll like, but I know a diner that’s still open and delivers. Does that sound alright with you?”

“Waffles and hot chocolate?”

“Waffles and hot chocolate.” He confirms, a smile growing on his face.

“Can I have whipped cream?”

“On the hot chocolate or on the waffles?”

“Both! And chocolate chips on the waffles!”

“Okay kiddo,” Matt says, chuckling, “let’s see what I can do.”

Thirty minutes later, the two of them are sitting at the dining table and eating waffles and drinking hot chocolate. Matt also indulged himself in whipped cream, and the kid was laughing from his whipped cream mustache. Her giggles are interrupted by a yawn, and Matt finally realizes just how late it is for her, even if this is normal operating hours for him.

“Why don’t you finish up that waffle while I set the bed for you? It’s been a long day.” She nods, and Matt gets up to set the bedroom for her. He’s glad he put in the investment to get curtains installed in the bedroom, so it’s easier for her to sleep. He grabs a few pillows and thicker blankets for her, as well as plugging a nightlight into the wall. She’s falling asleep at the table by the time he comes back, and he resorts to just carrying her to the bed.

“You’re sleeping here tonight, I’ll be on the couch. If you need anything you can wake me up, okay?” He explains, and she nods.

He settles on the couch, blanket up to his chin. He ventures in and out of slumber, listening in to the kid’s heartbeat until he realizes it hasn’t settled or slowed. He listens a bit more, getting up when he hears soft sobs.

“Hey,” he slides the door on its rollers, “are you alright?” She shakes her head quickly and reaches out for him. He rushes to her side and allows her to wrap her arms around his neck when he sits next to her. His hands rub up and down her back, as she buries her head in his neck and he lets her cry to her heart’s content. She cries about everything her dad did to her and his girlfriend, to her mom, she cries about her mom leaving her, she cries about getting bullied at school and being hungry all the time. The one thing that breaks Matt’s heart the most is how badly she cries about how nice he’s been to her. That the waffles were the most she’s eaten in one sitting in a month. That this is the first time she’s had clean sheets since she can remember. That he let her watch tv on his laptop.

He lets her cry until her sobs fall quiet, hiccups running through her little body. She asks him to stay, and he does just that. He props himself up against his headboard with a pillow tucked behind his back while she stays in the same position, body tucked against his, and she falls asleep with her head on his shoulder.

-----

He gets woken up by small taps on his shoulder. He jolts awake, trying to get his bearings.

“Why are you up?” He asks, hands coming up to rub his eyes.

“I have school. You gotta take me to school.”

“You have- can you miss today?”

“Nuh uh, they’ll call my dad, and plus I have a spelling test.”

“When does your school start?”

“8:30.”

“That’s in- that’s in twenty minutes. Oh god.” He springs out of bed, running around like a chicken with its head cut off.

The two of them are out the door in eight minutes, Matt’s tie is crooked and his hair isn’t brushed, but the kid looks impeccable and that’s what matters.

“What time does school end?”

“Three.”

“Okay, I’ll be right here to pick you up alright? I’ll try to get something sorted for you as far as everything else goes.” She nods, hugging Matt quickly, and before he can react she runs through the doors of the school.

-----

“Do I want to ask what happened last night?” Foggy says, but Matt’s focus is on Karen.

“Can you call Mahoney up here? And also child services? I have a- case, an important one.”

“Child services?” Karen asks.

“I’ll explain everything when they get here.”

The good thing about Mahoney knowing that Matt was Daredevil was the fact that he never questioned where exactly Matt got the kid from. He knew it was probably some vigilante act, but all Brett really cared about was knowing that there was a kid out there who was safe.

“Where did she stay last night?”

“She stayed with me.”

“Okay, we’re going to have you fill out some paperwork, Mr. Murdock, and then we’ll need to talk to her. Do you know where she is right now?” The woman from child services asks.

“School. She’s at school,” he turns to Brett, “could you request a wellness check on the girlfriend?” Mahoney nods.

“I’ll call it in.”

A few hours of paperwork and worried looks from Foggy and Karen puts Matt at 2:45. He asks if he can leave to pick the kid up from school, and they agree. Brett accompanies Matt in the fear that her dad might show up to pick her up, but nobody’s there when school lets out. Matt’s relieved and also a little heartbroken for her; Jack wasn’t the best father but he was still present and loved Matt as much as he could.

“You’re here!” He hears her squeal, her body making impact against his legs, her head thudding against his stomach.

“‘Course I am,” he says, taking her backpack from her and slinging it across his back before picking her up, “told you I’d be here.” She wraps her arms around his shoulders and hugs him tight.

“Murdock, I gotta talk to you when we get to the office,” Brett says, “in private.” Matt nods, and the girl peers at him.

“Who’s he?” She points at Mahoney.

“He’s someone who’s going to help put you in a safer place, I promise. Are you hungry?” She nods.

“Why don’t I meet you two back at the office?” Mahoney suggests, and Matt agrees.

“What are you in the mood for, kiddo?”

“Fries!” Matt sighs happily.

“Fries it is.”

Twenty minutes later the two of them show up, fries and burgers in tow. The child services worker pulls the kid away, and Brett finally gets to talk to Matt.

“They performed that wellness check, the dad answered, and officers were able to enter. They found a trail of blood leading to the bathroom. Matt, the girlfriend’s dead.”

“So you’re saying-”

“Kid can testify for assault and a witness for murder.”

“Jesus.” Matt rubs his forehead.

“We get her into some foster care or orphanage, we can keep her safe.”

“What about her mom?”

“Not on the records.”

“Birth certificate?”

“Was changed not to include her.”

“So she’s alone now.”

“Yeah.”

“That poor kid.”

“I’m sorry.”

“So what part do I have to take?”

“Nothing. As far as I know, you’re done with caring for the kid.” Matt rubs his forehead again, only looking up when the door to the conference room opens and little footsteps charge towards him.

“She said she’s taking me somewhere fun, are you coming with us?”

“Sweetheart-”

“You’re coming with, right?” Her voice softens, “he’s coming with us?” The lady shakes her head sadly, and the kid almost bursts into tears right then.

“You’re leaving me? I thought you liked me!” Her voice raises in anger and sadness, and Matt kneels in front of her.

“I do, sweetheart, I really do. But you’ll be better off with them. They’ll keep you safe.”

“You’re leaving me just like Mom did!” She bangs her small fists against Matt’s chest. He lets her, her anger bubbling over until she can’t contain it anymore. When she stops and begins crying, Matt takes her into a hug. She squeezes tight, and he lets her sob into his jacket.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but they’re going to take care of you.”

“I want you to take care of me.” She says, and Matt bites back tears at her confession.

“You’ve known me for a night, love. They have the resources, I don’t.”

“I’ll be so good! I won’t ever get in trouble!” A tear does fall from Matt’s face now, and he hugs her back tighter.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he gets her to settle down slowly, “I’ll come visit. I’ll visit you all the time with chocolate chip waffles and whipped cream on everything. I’ll be there, I promise.” She nods slowly in understanding.

“You have to make a pinky promise.” He holds out his pinky solemnly, and she takes it with her shaky hands. She hugs him again, and he presses a kiss to her forehead.

“Time to go,” the worker says, “you get to meet new friends there!” She tries to entice the kid, but she stays glued to Matt.

“Do you want me to walk you to the car?” She nods, holding his hand as she walks with him.

The goodbye at the car was tearful. She clung to him, wishing she didn’t have to leave while Matt sobbed silently. She tugs her backpack in with her and waves bye to him as the worker rolls up the window.

Matt goes straight home. He tried to stay in the office, but Foggy and Karen told him to leave, come back tomorrow when you feel better. He throws out the empty boxes from last night’s dinner and opens his laptop on the couch with a beer in hand to distract himself with case files. Except he’s not greeted with case files. He’s greeted with the Bluey theme song.

He sits there as episode after episode of the Australian show plays, sipping his beer as tears run down his face.

“This is stupid.” He mutters. He knew that kid for less than a day and was already so attached to her. He wipes his face and cleans around the house to distract his mind.

And then he gets waffles and hot chocolate with whipped cream for dinner.

#matt murdock #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock angst #matt murdock x child #dad!matt murdock #matt murdock x fem!child #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel fluff #marvel angst

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mysterious-moonstruck-musings · 1 year

Text

Destiny & Deliverance: Chapter 17

Destiny & Deliverance Masterlist ||| Dieter Bravo X OFC Smut Warning - Minors DNI New as of 8/18/2023

SUPPORT YOUR CREATORS. REBLOGGING & COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED.

Series Rating: Explicit (18+)

Series Summary: Natalia Cohen is experiencing major life changes, beginning with leaving an emotionally abusive husband. She is learning how to navigate life on her own while dealing with high functioning anxiety, depression, and mild PTSD. Everything is looking up for her. She is a highly respected consultant for a major LA firm, has her best friend, Lauren, by her side, and is on her path to healing. Everything changes when she meets a handsome and broken stranger on a work trip. He turns out to be a well-known actor, with a heart-breaking past. They quickly develop a connection that will forever alter their lives.

Warnings: Themes dealing with mental health, emotional trauma, alcohol use, and discussions about suicide. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn type of story. Read at your own risk.

Chapter Quote: “Can you please stop fucking teasing me?”

I could tell he was leaving the choice to me. He wasn’t going to continue unless I gave him a clear indication that I wanted to. He had always taken my lead on these things, and I was finally breaking. I pulled him down to me, our lips crashing together into a passionate kiss. Our tongues tangled together without hesitation.

He ran both of his hands up the back side of my thighs, until he reached my ass. He grabbed my flesh tightly, pulling me toward the edge of the island. I could feel his hardness pressing into my center.

He broke away and started kissing down my neck as he palmed my breast with one hand and supported me with the other. I leaned backward to give him better access, arching my back into him. I put one of my arms back behind me for support. My hand met with the plate of food I had just abandoned, knocking it onto the floor. The sound of glass shattering not phasing us.

Dieter slowly lowered me all the way onto the island. I was again met with an offending dish as I laid my head back. I reached up and shoved it out of the way onto the floor. It clattered loudly. He pulled the straps of my dress down, exposing me while he worked his way down my body. I reached to pull his shirt off over his head and quickly discarded it on the floor.

He hiked my dress above my hips, rubbing roughly at my thighs as he admired the black lace. A small smirk formed on his lips. “I’ve been thinking about these damn things all night. My imagination did not do them justice.” I gave him a flirty smirk in response.

He picked up my leg, kissing and sucking at my ankle. He slowly worked his way down, eventually propping my leg on his shoulder. When he reached my knee, he used his other hand to start rubbing at my center where he found I was already a wet mess. He rubbed lightly at first, but slowly increased the pressure. He was driving me crazy.

“Can you please stop fucking teasing me?”

He chuckled, “Yes ma’am.”

He slid his fingers underneath my panties and sunk them in deep causing me to gasp and writhe beneath him. He continued to suck and nip at my inner thigh with his teeth, which was sending jolts directly to my core. I reached down and slid my hand into the waistband of my panties to rub at the sensitive area, eliciting a deep groan from him. He watched my motions intently as he continued the steady rhythm with his fingers, hitting just the right spot deep inside me. It wasn’t long before I was rocked with a powerful rush of pleasure. My body tensed, causing me to arch off of the counter until the euphoric feeling dissipated. I collapsed, trying to catch my breath while I continued to tremble from the pulsating aftershocks.

Dieter lowered my leg, quickly slid my panties off, then reached to pull me back upward into his arms. He kissed me softly, giving me a minute to come down from the high I had just experienced. Once I was coherent again, I reached for his belt buckle and made quick work of undoing his pants. He discarded those on the floor, then grabbed hold of my hips, sliding me to the edge of the island again. In one swift motion, he entered me all the way. I gasped in pleasure while he paused briefly to give me a moment to adjust to the full length of him. When he began to move again, it was deep, hard thrusts that made my toes curl and legs tighten around his waist. His hands grasped my hips firmly as he pulled me to meet him with each thrust. I could feel each of his fingertips digging into my skin in the most delicious way.

As he picked up the pace, I tangled one hand in his hair, pulling it roughly. The other hand alternated between squeezing his upper arm and digging into his back, leaving deep fingernail marks behind. He groaned from the pleasantly painful sensation it caused. I grazed his neck with my teeth, lightly nipping and sucking while he continued his movements. He dropped his head to my shoulder as he reached down to rub the bundle of nerves between my legs, gruffly insisting that I come for him again. It didn’t take long once he added his fingers to his motions. I completely unraveled on him as the prickly sensation radiated throughout my body for a second time. His pace quickened when he felt me tensing. His thrusts became more erratic as he followed with his own release.

We leaned into each other's bodies trying to catch our breath, sweaty and absolutely spent. This time had been different than before. There was so much tension that had built between us that the snap caused an outpouring of pure need and carnal desire. The roughness of it, only maximizing the pleasure. It was exactly what we needed at the moment.

He raised his head to look at me and brushed my damp hair back off my forehead. We gave each other lazy smiles before he leaned down to kiss me again.

“Are you ok? That wasn’t too much was it?” He asked against my lips.

“It was fucking perfect,” I said as my smile widened against his.

We spent several minutes gently getting reacquainted with each other. Placing small kisses and caresses anywhere we could reach. Eventually, the kisses turned into something deeper and more sensual. Dieter started to massage my thighs and pressed in closer against me.

“You feel like going for another round?” He whispered in his husky voice against my lips. I responded with open mouthed kisses. I sucked on his pouty bottom lip, dragging my teeth across it as I pulled away. He puckered his lips slightly as he fought a grin and shook his head up and down.

“Ok then. That was new and also fucking hot.” I smiled up at him, biting at my own lip.

The look I gave him left no questions. “Yep, let’s go,” he responded through laughter. He slid his hands under my thighs and lifted me off the counter. I squealed, grabbing hold around his shoulders and tightened my legs around his waist. He carried me to the bedroom in the dark, then tossed me onto the bed. I crawled over to the edge and asked him to unzip my dress.

“I swear, if the fucking zipper gets stuck again, I'm gonna absolutely lose my mind,” he muttered. I couldn’t help the fit of laughter that overtook me. He started to struggle with it, mostly because I couldn’t be still from laughing. He chuckled at me while he tried to work it loose. He eventually got it down far enough to pull the dress off over my head.

We tumbled to the bed, both of us back to business, with the deep sensual kisses we had started in the kitchen. He pulled himself above me and settled in between my legs. Slowly entering me for a second time that evening. For round two, we took our time. Savoring every movement, touch, and kiss. Furthering the emotional connection that bonded us from the beginning. We moved in tandem, slowly, gazing into each other's eyes throughout. There was no panic or fear from the intensity of it. We welcomed it this time. Craved it even.

Once Dieter was close to finishing, he reached down between us to rub between my folds. His fingers moved in time with his thrusts, causing my body to tense for another release. As soon as he felt my muscles clench down on him, he increased speed, coming with me. Both of us moaned loudly as I arched up into him and he buried his face under my chin.

I fell back onto the bed, my breathing ragged. My fingers were still tangled in his sweaty hair. After a few moments, he raised his head and kissed my chin. Then kissed again softly on my lips before rubbing his nose against mine. We sat like that for several minutes. Just being present and in the moment with each other. No other thoughts or feelings imposing on us.

I realized I could no longer ignore my feelings. I had fallen for him a long time ago. Maybe it happened in New York, or maybe it happened the day he found me again. I wasn’t sure, but there was no denying it anymore. I was in love with him and for the first time in a long time, or maybe ever, I felt blissfully happy.

Dieter eventually scooted down between my legs, so that his cheek was laying on my chest. He was on his stomach with his arms tucked into my sides. I gently ran my fingers through the back of his hair for several minutes, eventually realizing he had fallen asleep. I could feel my eyes getting heavy too, so I reached over and attempted to fold the blanket over us. I drifted off soon after.

My alarm for work went off at 6AM the next morning. We both groaned as I blindly reached toward the nightstand to turn it off. I was feeling the events from the previous night. I had a headache and a serious case of cottonmouth. I was also absolutely burning up. I glanced down at Dieter. He hadn’t moved all night. He was still laying on top of me with the cover over both of us.

I scratched at his head. He hummed at the sensation as he lifted himself up. We were both sweating.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep like that, cariño.”

“You’re fine. I didn’t mind.”

He leaned up to kiss me, before he sunk down on the bed beside me.

“Ugh, I feel like death, but also like I had a night of amazing sex,” he said with a small laugh.

“That is so relatable.” I responded with a chuckle.

I sighed heavily, “I can’t do work. I think I might actually take a personal day. I’m hungover and my body has been absolutely wrecked, in the best way possible.”

He laughed as he laid his arm across my stomach, gently rubbing my side with his fingertips.

“Do you know where my phone is?”

“I don’t even know where my clothes are.” We both burst into laughter. We were so ridiculous last night.

“I’m gonna go find my phone and text Aubrey that I’m taking the day off…and also get some water. And maybe some pain relievers. You need anything?”

“All the above.”

I leaned down and kissed him, “I’ll be right back.” We gave each other a small smile before I crawled out of bed in the very dimly lit room. The only light sneaking in from the perimeter of the black out curtains. I found my robe and threw it on as I walked toward the living room. I found my phone and clutch discarded on the couch. I picked up my phone and shot a quick text to Aubrey letting her know that I wasn’t feeling that great, so I was going to take the day off. She immediately texted back and asked if I was dying because I never took days off. I assured her that I was fine before throwing my phone back down on the couch.

I walked into the kitchen, which was still lit from the light on the hood above the stove and the dim morning sun creeping in. I just stood there staring at the mess. I could tell it was bad but didn’t bother to turn the overhead light on to see properly. I managed to make it over to the refrigerator without stepping in anything and grabbed a couple of waters. I reached around to the cabinet beside the refrigerator to grab a bottle of Excedrin. As I came back through, I noticed Dieter’s clothes on the floor. I walked back toward the bedroom shaking my head.

When I got back into the bedroom, Dieter was coming back from the bathroom. I watched as his naked form crawled back into the bed and settled in under the comforter. I handed him a water and pain reliever before taking one myself. After we both drank half a bottle of water, I finally spoke.

“I think the kitchen may be a disaster zone.” He sighed heavily before allowing a wide smile to creep across his face.

“Worth it.”

“You may not say that after you see it in the light of day.”

“Let's not worry about that right now, ok?” He drew his brows down together and scrunched his face as he spoke.

“Oh, I’m not worried about it right now. I’m worrying about peeing and going back to sleep.”

He laughed at me. I ran to the bathroom, quickly peed, then shuffled toward the bed, discarding my robe before climbing in. Dieter reached his arms out toward me. I crawled over to him and settled in with my back to his chest. He wrapped his arms around me tightly. We were both asleep again within minutes.

I was later awoken by Dieter lightly grazing his fingers down my side and hip, then back up again. I glanced up at the clock. It was a little after eleven. I grabbed his hand and threaded our fingers together. Resting them on my hip. I twisted so that I could look up at him. He was propped up on his elbow, looking down at me with a smirk on his face.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I think you have spaghetti sauce in your hair.”

I let my head fall back down onto the pillow and sighed. I gave him an exasperated look before we both started to laugh.

“I think we both need a shower,” he said as he leaned down to kiss me.

We spent several minutes having a small make out session before we finally pulled ourselves away from each other to head toward the bathroom. I caught sight of myself in the mirror. I looked like a hot fucking mess. And yes, I had spaghetti sauce all in the back of my hair and a very visible hickey on my neck.

I looked up as Dieter walked in, he paused briefly, looking me over. He walked up beside me and rubbed at my hip and the back side of my thigh with concern on his face.

“Damn, you ok, cariño?” I met his eyes, confused. He turned me so that I could see my hip and back side in the mirror. I had very obvious bruises. I think mostly from the edge of the counter digging into the back of my thighs, but some were definitely from fingers. I laughed.

“Can’t say that’s happened before.”

He looked a little upset by it.

“I’m sorry, I was too rough.”

“No, it was perfect. If you had been hurting me, I would’ve told you.”

I pulled him in for a kiss, catching sight of his back and arms in the mirror. He had fingernail marks and scratches clearly visible. The back of his left arm also looked slightly bruised.

“Well, if it makes you feel better, I got a little too rough with you too it seems.” I said with a smirk.

He turned to look over his shoulder, his eyes widened at the sight before a grin spread across his face.

“Also, you have spaghetti sauce in your hair too.” We both started laughing at the absurdity of our actions the previous night, before continuing the kiss I had started.

We eventually made our way to the shower and got in. Attentively washing each other, careful of the tender areas and occasionally stopping to have a brief make out session. Nothing more than that though because I was starting to feel a little sore. After we finished, I found my bathrobe and threw it on. I brushed out my hair and left it to air dry. Dieter fished out a pair of gym shorts from his bag that still sat in the bedroom.

We both slowly wandered into the kitchen, pausing in the entryway as I flipped on the light.

“Fucking hell,” he said as he surveyed the mess with a chuckle.

We both moved to start cleaning up. There was broken glass scattered about and sauce splattered everywhere on the floor and lower cabinets. It was comical.

I bent down and started wiping the floor, “Ugh, I think it stained the grout.” I could hear Dieter quietly laughing behind me.

My attention was then drawn to Lauren calling from downstairs. Dieter yelled to let her know we were in the kitchen. She came walking in, then abruptly stopped when she caught sight of us cleaning the mess.

“What the hell?” She exclaimed. I glanced up at her and grimaced.

“In my wasted state last night, I dropped the spaghetti.”

Her eyes scanned us. She looked like she was trying to decipher a puzzle.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were working this morning?” I asked her.

“Well, I’m on my lunch break. I’ve been texting and calling you both all morning and you haven’t answered. I wanted to make sure you’re still alive.”

“I’m sorry, we slept in. We just got up.”

“We?” Lauren asked with a smirk forming on her face. I paused for a moment, realizing my slip. I hadn’t told Lauren that Dieter had been staying with me at night.

“Yes, we. We got back late.”

Her eyes darted between me and Dieter as an awkward silence took hold. He turned to pull the bag out of the trash can and her eyes widened as she caught sight of his back.

“Holy shit. You guys had sex, didn’t you?”

In my periphery, I saw Dieter’s head and shoulders drop as he realized what had prompted her. I sighed heavily and ran my hand down my face.

“It’s about damn time. It was getting ridiculous,” Lauren added.

Dieter turned, his face tinged with red as he spoke, “I’m gonna take the trash out, because, you know, broken glass.” He grimaced slightly at his tone.

“Yeah, thanks for that. I appreciate it.” I said to him sarcastically. He was leaving me to deal with this one by myself. He gave me a nervous look and shrugged as he walked out.

I stood as we both watched his retreating form. Lauren turned to me, a wide smile on her face.

“So, are you guys like, together now?”

I sighed again as I rolled my eyes, “I don’t know. We haven’t talked about it. We’ve literally only been up long enough to take a shower. We had fucking spaghetti sauce all over us. So don’t mention anything and make it weird. Please.”

“Wait, did you guys have sex in the kitchen? Oh geez, please bleach every surface. I eat food prepared in here,” she said with a snort laugh. I rolled my eyes at her again. She paused, staring at my neck. She reached over to pull my hair back.

“You have a giant hickey. Nice. I take it he wrecked you properly, yeah?” I couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled up out of me as I felt my face heat up.

“You have no idea.”

She burst out laughing as that wasn’t the response she expected. Dieter came back in, eyeing us both nervously as we stifled our laughs.

“Please don’t tell me what’s so funny, I’m not sure if my ego can handle it,” he said jokingly.

That set us off on another round of laughter, while he silently worked to put another bag in the trash can with a smirk on his face.

“Well, now that I know you’re alive, I’m going back to work. I guess I should say congratulations for getting laid? Happy humping? I hope you both had an orgasmic experience? I’m not sure what the proper sentiment is in this situation,” she said with a pensive look on her face. Dieter finally broke and started laughing at her.

“Alright, that’s enough from you. Get out of here,” I said while pushing her to leave, trying to contain the smile threatening to break free.

Dieter and I worked in silence while we continued to clean. After I was done with the kitchen, I went to check the bed. Thanks to the mess that had been in my hair, the sheets needed washing too. I quickly stripped those. Dieter helped me put some clean ones on, then immediately crawled back into the bed. I laughed at him.

I dropped the bedding off in the laundry room. I dug through the pile of clean laundry sitting on the dryer in a basket and found one of his t-shirts. I discarded my bathrobe on top of the dirty laundry pile and went to join him in bed.

We spent all afternoon napping, cuddling, and kissing. We had sex again, twice. Though these times were a lot softer and gentler. We took our time, worshiping each other’s bodies. Memorizing every curve, freckle, and scar. It was by far one of the most intimate days of my existence.

As the hour grew later, we realized that we needed to get up and make ourselves presentable. We were supposed to have dinner at Gabby’s. By this point, her place was on normal rotation for our Friday night dinners. I threw on his worn band t-shirt and jeans. I tried to tame my hair but gave up and ended up doing a messy bun. I had to go a little heavier on the makeup to cover a few spots on my neck, thanks to Dieter. He went with gym shorts, a t-shirt, hat, and flip-flops. We were both unusually casual, even for a Friday night with family and friends.

On the drive over, he held my hand the entire time. Occasionally pulling it to his lips as he snuck glances at me. When we got to Gabby’s, he entered without knocking. Pulling me by the hand behind him while we walked toward the kitchen. He greeted his sister when we walked in. She turned and her eyes instantly fell to our joined hands. She didn’t say anything, but a wide smile spread across her face as she came over to hug us.

Alex was already there, leaning against the counter with a drink in his hand. Lauren arrived soon after. Shaun and the kids eventually came in from the back yard to join us. He got them settled at the table while he and Gabby prepared their plates.

During dinner, Dieter seemed very smiley and talkative with everyone. He was completely relaxed and very affectionate toward me. Stealing glances and smiling at me every chance he got. As we sat talking to the group he would put his arm around the back of my chair, hold my hand, or rub the inside of my knee with his thumb. These actions weren’t out of the ordinary for us. We often sought physical touch when we were near each other, especially if one of us was anxious. However, it was obvious to everyone sitting at the table that the vibe between us was different. It was less about comfort and more about staying connected. I noticed the looks they were giving us and each other. Lauren of course knew things were different, but she kept that information to herself.

Gabby was in a very enthusiastic mood the entire evening. I got the feeling that she could sense things shifting between Dieter and me. I think it made her hopeful for him and excited at the prospect that he may finally be moving on with his life. Enjoying it even.

Even though I was a little distracted throughout dinner, it did not go unnoticed that Lauren and Alex were chatting with each other. At certain points, they had even leaned in closely to talk quietly amongst themselves. They seemed almost a little too familiar given that they hadn’t spent much time together. When I noticed it, I tapped Dieter on the leg and nodded toward them. He looked over, slightly tilting his head to the side as he raised an eyebrow in their direction. He watched them for a second before turning back to me and shrugging. I made a mental note to ask her about that later.

Once dinner was over, we all helped Gabby clean up before heading out. We said our goodbyes and made our way back to my house. I collapsed onto the couch as soon as we got inside. I suddenly felt exhausted and sore. Dieter had noticed the occasional wince as I moved throughout the evening. Several times asking if I was ok.

“You want me to run you a bath? It might help.” he said tenderly as he looked down at me. I don’t know why, but the offer shocked me a little. It isn’t one I had ever gotten before. It was amazing how often he surprised me with his compassion and care. I was still getting used to having that in my life.

“That actually sounds amazing. Only do it if you plan to join me though.”

I gave him a flirty grin. He laughed at me as he walked toward the bedroom.

“Make sure it’s scalding please!” I yelled after him. He waved his hand dismissively as he disappeared down the hallway.

Dieter appeared a few minutes later to let me know the water was ready. He grabbed my hand and pulled me up off the couch and shooed me toward the bedroom. I gave him a quizzical look as I walked toward the bath. When I entered the bathroom, I found that he had the lights dimmed and had added bubbles. He was too damn cute. I immediately peeled my clothes off and slowly sunk down into the water. It felt amazing on my aching and sore muscles.

Dieter appeared just after I had fully submerged myself. He came bearing water and pain relievers.

“Ugh, my hero,” I muttered as I took his offering. He smiled at me before he proceeded to undress. I scooted forward so he could settle in behind me. Once he was situated, I sat the bottle of water on the floor and leaned back against his chest, dropping my head backward against him. He rested his face on the top of my head as he rubbed and massaged at my arms and shoulders. I hummed in appreciation.

“Why are you so amazing?” I asked him as I closed my eyes. He chuckled as he kissed the side of my forehead.

We sat in silence for a while. I could tell something was now on his mind. He seemed to be tensing up. I draped my left hand over his thigh and drew lazy circles with my finger on the back side of it.

“What’s going through that mind of yours?” I asked him quietly.

He let out a small huff, “How do you always know when something’s on my mind?”

“I don’t know, I can sense it. Your energy changes. I’m sure it's the same way you sense it with me. Tell me, please. What is it?”

He let out a heavy sigh.

“I’m just worried about leaving again. This movie shoot that’s coming up, it’s five months. A week was bad enough. What if I’m not ready for that? I honestly think the only reason I’ve done so well is because of you. I’m not sure I can do it without you being with me.”

I sat up and twisted to face him, he looked broken again. He wouldn’t meet my eyes. I reached up to cup his face, forcing him to look at me.

“I told you; we’ll figure it out. It’s not the full five months. I can come visit you for extended periods. You can call me at any time of the day. We’ll make it work.”

“It’s not that simple. It’s long hours and there are gonna be a lot of night shoots. My schedule is gonna be crazy. I won’t be able to call you every night like last time. My routine is gonna be fucked.”

I turned fully facing him, pulling him to me as I slid my legs around his waist, hugging him to me tightly. He laid his head on my shoulder while I ran my hand through his messy hair. He loosely wrapped his arms around me.

My stomach suddenly felt like an empty pit. It occurred to me that I really didn’t know how bad it could get. I didn’t know how bad he was before. It must have been worse than I could imagine, otherwise, why would he be so scared of the possibilities?

He eventually raised his head to look at me, then reached up to pull me in for a chaste kiss. He sat with his forehead against mine for a moment. His eyes closed in thought. He leaned back and looked at me intently as he rubbed the side of my face.

“I know this is completely out of left field, but do you think you can take Monday and Tuesday off work?”

My brows drew down together. I was confused by the look in his eye and his tone. It was different. Determined.

“Yeah, I’m sure it won’t be an issue. Why?”

“I wanna take you somewhere.”

I gave him a confused smile, “Where?”

“Sonoma.”

“Why? What’s in Sonoma?”

He looked conflicted about his answer. He knitted his brows together before answering.

“Can you just trust me and not ask any questions?”

I was a little stunned by his response. It was unexpected and odd.

“Of course, I trust you. I’d go anywhere for you.”

He gave me one of his brilliant smiles before pulling me into another passionate kiss.

A/N: So, for those of you that guessed Talia was the culprit, good job! As if there was really any question. We know Dieter is a perfect gentleman. 🤣 I know this was a hot topic on the teaser post. We now know they are going to Sonoma, but not the specifics as to where or why. The location is somewhere Dieter has been to in the past. That is all you are getting out of me on that topic. You will find out the details the same time Talia does. 🤐 I'm going to warn you now. Their little get away is going to get very angsty. We are going to learn a lot of things in the next chapter. It is going to cover some heavy topics. Truth be told, the last half of the next chapter is the very first part that I wrote for the series because it's that important. A teaser will be posted on Monday (8/21). The full chapter will follow within a day or so. 😬

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