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13uswntimagines · 2 days ago

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All In My Head (Alessia Russo X Singer!r)

Part III of the Safe Harbor Universe. Find other parts here

Summary: Being Sick on tour sucks, but that doesn't mean that you want your team to inform your girlfriend. She has her own career to think about. The problem is that honesty is rule number 1 in your relationship.

Warnings: there is mention of a D/s dynamic, but nothing is super explicit. Alessia is referred to as daddy.

Authors note: Yes the ending is a cliffhanger. But this has honestly been in my drafts since like August, so i wanted to put it out. I'm considering a Pt. 2, but it will depend on if people want it. I really hope you enjoy it, and let me know what you think.

You sighed heavily, leaning against the stadium's cool stone wall and twisting the bracelet around your wrist.

Which stadium, you couldn’t remember. It didn’t matter, really. They all looked the same after a while anyway, blurring together in the never-ending cycle of rehearsals, performances, interviews, and meet and greets.

All your life seemed to be was performing and promoting music you weren’t even excited about anymore. It was a nonstop grind filled with late nights and early mornings, with almost no time for your well-being.

You almost wished your girlfriend had implemented a rule that placed a limit on how much you could do. At least that would give you the power to say no.

You did your best.

You squeezed in as many phone calls with your girlfriend, Alessia as you could, but she had her own commitments with the Lionesses as they prepared to defend their European championship.

Most of the time you ended up passing out over FaceTime, and waking up to texts telling you she loved you.

You understood. You both had careers and obligations. You both had to make sacrifices to get to do the things you loved.

It was… intense, but for the most part, you enjoyed it. You loved playing for the fans. You would deal with all the promotional bs just so you could interact with the people who loved your music as much as possible.

They deserved that.

And this tour had been going far better than the ones you had been on before it. You were holding it all together far better than you had in the past.

Or it had been.

It all started with a slight tickle in your throat in the city before last. A whisper of huskiness that went away with a nice steam session and some tea.

It was easy to ignore in the beginning.

Then you played 4 shows back to back last weekend.

By the end of the 3rd show, you knew you were screwed, you could barely muster a horse whisper. Alessia had commented that you sounded like a chain smoker, your first sign that she was seeing through you, but you assured her you would be fine. You even joked that you had enough throat coat and grether's pastilles to turn her off for a year. She let you soothe her worries.

You pushed on, powered my menthol lozenges and Honey, and you made it through the 4th show.

It would have been fine. It shouldn’t have mattered that your ability to make any sound at all was hanging on by a thread. The 5 days off you had should have been enough to set everything right.

Except you didn’t have 5 days off.

It was filled with promotional performances for a new album and interviews about how well it would accompany the movie it was attached to. If someone else asked you about how it felt about the possibility of an Oscar nod, you were going to scream. Or rip all of your hair out or both.

The tickle had turned to hot nails, and nothing - not the steam machine or tea and honey - had the power to soothe it.

You sounded like you were talking through gravel, and your team had been hesitant to even let you go on tonight.

Alessia definitely would not have, if she knew how bad it really was. You started avoiding her two days ago after you couldn’t make it through a sentence without a crack, and you couldn’t continue to blame the low whistle that accompanied every one of your breaths on allergies.

You knew going in that performing tonight wasn’t a great idea, but you refused to let the fans down. There were only 4 shows left. Surely you could make it.

The entire show felt like a battle.

You had to fight for every note. For every breath.

Your lungs felt like they were on fire and your throat was raw before you even got to the piano set.

It took everything in you to hide the thinness in your voice. To prevent every sound from cracking as you forced each lyric out.

It was…rough to say the least.

But you made it- even if it was only by the skin of your teeth.

You were shot by the time you did your final bow and disappeared backstage. You ignored the cold Gatorade being pressed into your palms, knowing it would only aggravate the glass shards in your throat, and shrugged off Steven and Clint.

You didn’t need their concern, you needed to escape the roaring in your ears. The pounding in your chest.

So you took turn after turn until you were in an abandoned section of hallways.

You sighed, grasping at your throat as you slid down the cool wall, pulling your knees to your chest and pressing your forehead into the rough material of your costume to drown out the pounding in your head. Your fingers tangled in the hair at the back of your head and you groaned.

The sound felt like hot coals in your throat, and it made your chest ache.

You feared that no amount of steam, or tea, or pastilles would stop it this time.

The cold bricks of the stadium felt nice against your skin, leaching the heat from your body, though it did nothing to help the fire in your chest.

A fire that was quickly moving past the gray areas in your agreement with Alessia, and into a place that your daddy would definitely have something to say about.

You were treating your limits with her like a tightrope, carefully toeing the edge. Except with the way you felt, you knew you were about to topple one way or the other.

You ignored the sounds of clicking shoes coming closer, hoping that whoever it was wouldn’t see you. That they would leave you be to pull the cracked pieces of yourself back together.

But your team knew better than to leave you to your own devices.

“Y/n?”

You tensed at the soft hand on your shoulders, and the sound of shifting clothing as someone settled on the ground beside you.

“You ok, kid?” Natasha asked softly, running soothing circles on the top of your shoulders.

You let out another breath before you pulled your face from its hiding spot, resting your chin on your knees. “I’m ok. Just wanted some quiet,”

You frowned at the horse whisper that left your lips, and the flair of pain that accompanied it.

Natasha hummed.

She had been part of your team from the beginning, back when you were a dumb 16-year-old, long before Pepper, Tony, Steve and the rest of the crew had joined, and she knew you nearly as well as Alessia did.

She raised an eyebrow at you. “Just some quiet?”

You knew that wasn’t what she was actually asking.

The question went much deeper.

She knew about your… dynamic with Alessia, and she had seen the striker take care of you in various ways. She was asking you what you needed.

You nodded, looking away from her, afraid that she would see through you.

“I needed a minute,” You said, your voice barely a squeak. “It was all too much, and I wanted to be alone before I got pulled into something else,”

She made a low sound at the familiar explanation. “And this has nothing to do with how you sound like you’re gargling rocks?”

You grimaced. “Nothing at all,”

She hummed. “So you’re not in any pain at all?”

“Nope,” You breathed out, the p the only clear part of the word.

“Y/n,” She sighed. “I know you have an… aversion to admitting when you’re not… at the top of your game, but pushing yourself isn’t going to help anything. You don’t have anything to prove here,”

You ran a hand through your hair and rolled your eyes dramatically at her. She chuckled at the action.

“There are only 3 more shows,” You said. “I can make it 3 more shows,”

“And how would Alessia feel if she knew you were going to put your comfort aside for 3 more shows?” Natasha asked softly. “And not just your comfort, your health. You sound like shit,”

You huffed at the mention of your girlfriend, your fingers instinctively finding the braided bracelet that never left your wrist.

You knew how she would feel. You could practically hear what she would say. I expect you to take care of the things that belong to me. I expect you to treat them with respect and give them the love and care they deserve.

“I’ve got it all under control,” You rasped, wincing at the action.

It was Natasha’s turn to roll her eyes. “Sure you do. Since you have it all under control, you’ll stop ignoring your girlfriend,” She pulled the device out of her back pocket and balanced it on top of your knees. “She’s been blowing up your phone all day. I think she’s worried,”

You stared at the phone, and as if on cue, it buzzed again with a new message.

Alessia was going to be furious with you, and your daddy would be on another level entirely.

She was usually the one to take the reigns when you were set on driving yourself into oblivion for the benefit of everyone else. But she wasn’t here.

You sighed heavily.

You knew that if you told her, she would drop everything. She would move heaven and earth if that was what you needed.

You didn’t want that.

She needed to focus on her game, and that meant that you couldn’t be a distraction. You would not disappoint her. Not when you were so close to finishing.

“She needs to focus,” You mumbled, your voice straining. “She’s gotta impress Sarina to make the team. It’s important,”

“I think you forget that you are also important,” Natasha argued back softly, patting your back before carefully pushing herself to her feet. “I’m going to have Pepper cancel the meet and greet. You’re in no shape to meet fans. I should also have her call a doctor, but I already know you’ll fight me on it,”

You frowned. You never sold meet and greet tickets, choosing to instead have your team select fans at each show.

“But-“

She held up her hand before you could argue. “That isn’t up for debate. Get rest tonight, and we’ll assess tomorrow in the morning.”

Your jaw clenched, but you nodded, knowing there was no arguing with her.

“I know the world thinks you’re superhuman, but it’s ok not to be indestructible,” She said, softly. “You need to remember to be Clarke Kent sometimes too. There’s a reason Lois fell in love with him first,”

With that, she walked away, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

The silence of the empty hallway wasn’t as welcoming as it had been. It didn’t quiet your thoughts like it had.

Instead, it felt suffocating. Like the walls were closing in on you, trapping you in your misery.

You sighed another painful breath, before you grabbed your phone, reading the top notification, longing not to feel so…alone.

Hey babe, caught the end of your show on a random livestream. Are we still on for our FaceTime tonight?

You let your head fall back, thumping the wall.

Everything in you longed to say yes.

But you couldn’t. You wouldn’t.

It was still nice to fantasize about seeing her. About hearing her say ‘Hello my little one,’ with a soft smile that brought out her dimples. If you closed your eyes you could almost feel the pressure of her fingers on the back of your neck, running through the baby hairs that lived there. ‘I’m here, and I’ve got you,’

You let your mind linger there for a long second before you forced your eyes back open.

It took you three tries to type out your reply: sorry darling, I’m super tired. Rain check?

And you paused, your trembling finger over the send button, knowing you shouldn’t send it, but hitting the little blue arrow anyway.

It was awful but necessary.

You let out another long, ragged breath before you forced yourself to your feet and shoved your phone into your pocket, so you didn’t have to see her reply. You leaned heavily on the wall, no longer enjoying how it sucked the warmth from your skin, but using it to stay upright as the entire hallway tilted to the side.

You should go back to your dressing room before Steve sent out a search party. Dealing with Nat was one thing, dealing with the overprotective instincts of Steve, Clint, and Thor was another.

You didn’t have the mental capacity for that, and maybe your dressing room couldn’t make you feel like there was a rope on your lungs, dragging out your soul.

*****

You were not particular about a lot of things when you were on tour. You didn’t care about the size of your hotel room or the cars you were shuttled around in. You didn’t request overly expensive foods or special bubbly waters.

The only thing on your rider that you were very specific about was your dressing room.

It was your sanctuary away from the noise. A place you would spend more time in than your hotel room.

It was important to you that it was always the same. Lit with twinkling fairy lights, the comfy gray couch that followed you on every tour stop standing near the table with your kettle and vocal steamer, and a diffuser already filling the room with the soft scent of lavender and honey.

It filled your lungs the second you stepped through the door, wiping away the burning ache that accompanied every breath for just a second. Reminding you for one fleeting moment of the honeysuckle of Alessia’s favorite shampoo (the reason she picked the essential oil blend to begin with), before the knives returned to your chest.

You rubbed your knuckles over your sternum to quell the feeling, stumbling over to the couch and collapsing into it.

You pressed your nose into the soft gray material, wishing that you had grabbed the bright red sweatshirt you stole from your girlfriend when you last saw her. The smell of her perfume was beginning to fade, but it wasn’t gone yet, and there was a distinct longing in your stomach to be close to her. Even if you were the reason there was any space to begin with.

You could hear your kettle bubbling next to you, and you knew you should make yourself some tea to soothe the sharp edges in your windpipe, but the thought of moving felt like too much.

Instead, you sunk into the couch, your arm dangling off the cushion, your fingers brushing the ugly red carpet.

You felt your phone buzz in your pocket, and you didn’t have to look to know who was texting you. Still, the urge to see what she would say was too great for you to ignore it.

It took all of your strength to move your heavy arm to your pocket and pull out your phone. Your fingers fumbled over the screen as you squinted at the device with the eye not pressed into the couch.

The light made the throbbing in your head worse, and the words written on the screen made your lungs constrict.

Ok, my love. Are you sure everything is alright? This is the 3rd time this week.

You could almost hear the worry in her voice. See the suspicion in her blue eyes.

They never failed to see through you. To strip away your exterior and leave you vulnerable and raw beneath them. It never made you feel exposed, even in the beginning when the two of you decided to extend your dynamic beyond your bedroom. Instead, you felt seen and safe.

Sometimes she liked to have to work for your submission. She liked to peel away each layer of you one by one until you were a trembling mess beneath her. Open and vulnerable in a way no one else ever got to see you.

Other times, you gave your submission willingly, stripping off your public persona like a dirty shirt and allowing her to envelop you in her warm comfort.

How much you wanted that. How much you needed it.

It was a desperation that filled your entire being.

Before you could process what you were doing, you had already pressed her contact photo and brought the now-ringing phone to your ear.

You laid the device on the side of your head and let your arm go back to dangling. It was too heavy to hold.

It only rang twice before her voice filled your ears.

“Hey my love,” She said, worry and relief mingling strangely in her tone. “I’m so happy you called me. How are you?”

Her voice washed over you like a soothing wave, like a balm on the sharp edges of your nerves, though it did little to help the fire in your lungs and throat.

You pressed your nose into the couch, pretending that it was her shoulder for just a second. That the honey and lavender surrounding you was her perfume. That she was here.

“Y/n, are you there?” She asked, and you opened your mouth to respond, but the words just wouldn’t come out.

You couldn’t force any sound, beyond a low whistle past your inflamed throat. Your lungs crackled with each breath.

Your inability to make sound didn’t bother you as much as it should have.

“Y/n? Did you butt-dial me?” Alessia asked again, and you could almost feel her running her nails through your hair, gently scratching your scalp. “I’m worried,”

The words were said with too much force, not at all the soft murmur your brain had been waiting to hear.

It shook you out of your haze just enough for you to reach up and grab your phone, clicking the decline button too fast.

You let the phone drop to the floor with a low thump as it immediately began to ring again.

Your fingers twitched above the screen, but you didn’t have the strength to reach for it, even as it lit up again with your girlfriend's contact photo.

Well, it was a photo of the two of you. You were curled up in her lap, in one of her blue UNC sweatshirts that were too big, and she was kissing the side of your head.

It had been taken after a particularly grueling day in the studio. It was Alessia’s turn to host team bonding night. You didn’t remember exactly who took the picture, Leah or Lotte, maybe, but it was one of your favorites.

What the camera didn’t catch was that your arms were not in the sleeves. Instead, they were tied with intricate knots behind your back, hidden by the sweatshirt.

It was something the two of you often did, and it was one of her go-to's when you were starting to spiral out of control.

A part of you longed for the feeling of the knots now, and her fingers twisting the soft rope against your skin.

Sure, the weight of your bracelet was nice, but it wasn’t enough.

You let out a wheezing breath that crackled and hurt.

If you asked, she would be here. She would wrap you up and pull you from your free fall.

It took you a long second to remember why you couldn’t have that.

Alessia had a job to do, and you wouldn’t stand in the way of that.

The phone buzzed again against the ugly carpet, the little voicemail icon flashing. You doubted you would be able to resist calling her back if you listened to it.

Still, you had to do something.

So you flicked the screen with one finger, going to your messages, and typing out words that felt fake, even to you.

Sorry, I’m ok. Just tired. I’ll call you tomorrow after the game. Love you.

You clicked send before you could overthink it though, or your trembling fingers could betray you and type out the truth. You laid your head back down on the couch, curling into yourself as a painful cough forced its way past your lips.

You weren’t sure how long you laid there, shivering before there was a soft knock at the door, and then the little click as it opened.

A part of your brain hoped that it would be Alessia. That she had read your mind and somehow teleported to whatever city you were in.

But the feeling of gentle fingers on the top of your shoulders told you that it wasn’t.

“Y/n?” Natasha asked, very close to your ear, and you blinked up at her.

You didn’t remember closing your eyes.

“Hm?” You hummed, the sound raw and painful.

“Let’s get you changed, and then we can go back to the hotel and you can sleep,” She said, placing a hand under your armpit and guiding you to a sitting position.

The tiny movement had coughs ripping past your lips.

She held you steady with one hand and grabbed you a change of clothes with the other.

“Easy,” She breathed out, carefully unbuttoning your shirt and pulling it from your sweaty skin.

She left you shirtless for a long second as she disappeared into your bathroom, and the cool air of the dressing room felt nice on your overheated skin.

It didn’t bother you. Natasha had seen you in far less clothing than your sports bra and underwear.

She returned only a moment later with a towel, using it to dry you off before she slipped a light blue t-shirt with a foot on the back over your head.

The pants took a little more wiggling, but eventually, she was able to get you out of your costume and into a pair of sweats that were far too big for you.

She slid a pair of Converse onto your feet, scooping up your phone and tucking it into her pocket.

“Let’s get you to the car,” She guided you to stand, keeping an arm wrapped tightly around you.

“People?” You asked, leaning more of your weight onto her as she pulled you towards the door.

You missed her eye roll.

Of course, all you were worried about right now was who would see you, and what they would think.

“Not here,” Natasha reassured you gently, opening the door. “Only when we get back to the hotel,”

You made a low, painful sound as she half-carried you into the hallway.

You still had time before you had to pull yourself together.

******

The city lights blurred into a distorted kaleidoscope of colors during the short ride back to the hotel.

The cool glass felt nice against your temple, though it did little to ease the throb in your head or the lava in your throat.

The feeling of eyes watching you for any wavering in your resolve also wouldn’t go away. You couldn’t be sure if it was worry (that you would puke all over the car or pass out), or concern about what the fans would think when you pulled up to the hotel.

The whirring of the engine wasn’t loud enough to block out your racing thoughts, but any music was too much for you to handle.

You were drowning.

Every breath hurt, but you didn’t know if it was because of the physical pain or the anxiety gnawing at you.

You didn’t like to upset people. You didn’t like to disappoint them.

You were a people pleaser to a fault, and this wasn’t the first time you had self-destructed to meet everyone’s expectations.

But at the end of the day, the person you wanted to please most. The person you wanted to not disappoint the most was Alessia. Was your Daddy.

You knew you were failing, but you didn’t know how to stop.

The car came to a stop in front of the hotel far too quickly, and not for the first time, you were thankful that the dark tint kept you hidden from public view.

“Ready, kid?” Steve asked, turning around in the driver's seat to look at you.

You nodded once, reaching forward and grabbing the sunglasses facing the wrong way on his head, and pulled them over your own eyes.

You took a deep breath before Clint opened your door, painting your signature smile across your features.

You didn’t wave when you got out, too focused on keeping yourself upright, as Steve’sarm wrapped around you on one side and Natasha’s did the same on the other.

You felt safe tucked between them, though they did nothing to shield you from shrill screams and cheers that met you as soon as your feet touched the ground. They amplified the pounding behind your eyes, and the way the crowd pressed around you made it even harder to breathe (not that you thought that was possible).

You did try to flash the crowd smiles as Natasha and Steve guided you through, Clint protecting your back, and you were thankful your eyes were hidden, despite it being nighttime.

You never wanted the fans to see the… fakeness. The lie.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when the hotel doors slid closed behind you, placing more of your weight on Steve as Natash called the elevator.

“You’re burning up kid,” Steve murmured, shifting to get a better grip around your waist.

You made a low sound, that turned into a full body caught that nearly had you doubling over. “Is that your way of calling me hot Stevie? What would Tony think?”

The words came out garbled, cracking with every syllable as you tried to talk through the coughs.

Steve’s arm tightened around you to keep you upright.

“I think he would say that you are sick,” Steve sighed at the mention of his husband, your publicist, taking more of your weight as another round of coughs wracked you.

You pushed off of him as soon as you could breathe again, even if it felt like sucking air through a straw filled with needles, and swayed your way toward the elevator.

It binged open as soon as you reached it, and you stumbled inside, gripping the metal bar on the back wall for support, and resting your forehead on the cool wall.

You could feel the heat of your skin leaching into the surface, but it did little to quell the pounding in your ears or the feeling like everything was tipping on its head.

Your fingers instinctively found the braided bracelet, running over the soft leather strands.

However, this time, it didn’t ease the bubbling anxiety and fire in your chest.

“We’re almost there, and then you can rest,” Natasha said softly, and you felt both her and Steve’s eyes on you as you leaned further into the wall.

The movement of the elevator was starting to make you nauseous, but you didn’t think you could voice that even if you wanted to. Not with how raw your throat was.

It took you a second to realize the elevator had stopped, and it wasn’t until Natasha gently touched your shoulder that you began to move again.

You let Steve guide you out of the elevator and into the hallway.

Natasha had the door to your suite open before you even got there, and Steve half-carried you to the bed, settling you on the fluffy white comforter.

Your fingers tangled in the expensive sheets as you fought to keep yourself upright.

“Do you want to take a shower?” Natasha asked you softly, kneeling in front of you and carefully undoing your sneakers.

You shook your head slowly, smothering another cough. “Sweatshirt,”

The croaky word hurt as it left your lips, barely audible and surrounded by more lung-crunching coughs.

But they understood, Steve, passing you a bright red sweatshirt from your bag.

You brought it to your face and collapsed back onto the bed, breathing in the perfume that clung to the material.

It burned as it filled your senses, but you could pretend that it soothed the edges of glass in your throat and lungs. You could pretend that it was her taking off your shoes and tucking you in.

You could pretend that it was all ok and that she wasn’t going to be livid when she found out. Not that you were sick, but that you hadn’t told her immediately.

You knew you would take whatever punishment she decided you deserved with no questions. She could be rather creative when she was annoyed with you.

“Let’s get you settled properly,” Natasha said, shifting you on the bed so your head was on the pillows, as Steve moved the covers and tucked them around you. “Rest now, and we’ll deal with the rest in the morning,”

You groaned, sending more flames down your airway, rolling over and pressing your face more firmly into the sweatshirt.

You heard the distinctive sound of your phone being plugged in, and the click of the door.

And then you were alone.

More alone than you had been in a very long time.

Even if it was all your own doing, you hadn’t been this disconnected since the beginning of Alessia’s college career, and your first tour with Taylor. The infamous break in your relationship. Even though neither of you had actually experimented with anyone else, and you had texted and called nonstop, you had been hesitant to push too far, to ask for too much.

You blew out a long breath into her sweatshirt, ignoring the little needles that followed the air, eyes fixed on the phone on your bedside.

It buzzed again as if it knew you were thinking about it.

You reached your hand out, pulling it close so you could look at it, but it was still plugged in.

The movement had the screen lighting up with a string of messages. The one at the top made your heart hurt.

Please don’t ignore me, my Little One. I’m worried.

It said, and you could almost hear the inflection in her tone. You could almost see her eyes softening, and feel her fingers brushing your hair behind your ear.

You closed your eyes, pressing more deeply into the sweatshirt under your head.

Your fantasy world was far nicer than the reality you were in, and the universe wouldn’t end if you stayed in it until morning.

********

Your night was… hazy, filled with half-dreams that were increasingly difficult to distinguish from real life. As the morning light crept its way further and further across the ceiling, you leaned into the sweatshirt slowly losing its smell, one eye peeking out to track its progress.

It felt like a timer. A countdown clock on the imagined feelings of soothing hands on your back and whispered reassurance that everything would be okay.

Soon enough the door would open and you would have to be you again. You would have to pretend like each breath you took didn’t feel like a bear was mauling your lungs, and your brain wasn’t a freight train threatening to escape from your skull.

You would have to deal with the incessant buzzing of your phone that had kept you on the edge of real sleep all night.

You would have to face your girlfriend. Your daddy.

You were not looking forward to it. Any of it.

The only thing that you were semi-excited about was watching your girlfriend play, even through a screen. That had been your only saving grace back when she was in college before the two of you got back together, and you knew it would be your only saving grace now.

You sighed, rolling over, the sweatshirt falling from its bunched-up place against your cheek, and reaching for the phone still on the corner of the bed next to you.

It buzzed again as your fingers caught it, and brought it closer so you could see the screen. It was filled with notifications.

Some were from the group thread you shared with your manager, assistant, and publicist. Some were emails from people you were collaborating with.

But the majority were from Alessia.

You couldn’t help but click on the thread.

You knew it was a mistake immediately.

Good morning little one. I’ll have some time if you want to FaceTime before the game. I miss you, and I’m worried. You don’t usually ignore me.

It was like an arrow straight through your heart.

A direct hit to your will.

You swallowed hard, ignoring how badly it burned, and typed out a message.

I miss you too. Good luck today. You’re going to do amazing

You dropped your phone after you hit send, deciding that finding the starting 11 wasn’t important anymore, and stared up at the ceiling through half-lidded eyes, pulling the comforter more tightly around you despite the sweat breaking out across your chest.

You thought it would help the hollow feeling slowly taking over your insides, or the dull throb that accompanied each breath.

It did not.

You let your eyes slide back closed, deciding that the light hadn’t transversed far enough across the ceiling for you to need to be awake yet. Not when the pull of sleep was so strong, and the comfort of your half dreams was too difficult to resist.

“You know I don't like it when you hide from me,” Alessia’s voice said sternly, as though it was right next to your ear, and you felt fingertips graze your lips.

You didn’t open your eyes. Even amongst the haze that was filling every crack in your brain, you knew she wasn't here. She couldn’t be here. Not when she was back in London about to play some team you couldn’t remember.

“I know,” You rasped out.

The fingers gently pulled at your bottom lip before they circled back towards your cheek, and a thumb brushed across your closed eyelid.

“And you’re still doing it?” She asked, and you felt the air of each word on your ear.

You shook your head, turning it slightly, hoping to feel her nose bump hers. “You need to focus on the important things,”

You didn’t come into contact with her, though you knew you should have with the way you shifted.

“And you are not important to me?” She asked her voice hardening in the way it only did when you were about to receive a punishment.

An involuntary shiver ran down your spine, and your eyes opened automatically.

You sucked in a painful breath, blinking blearily at the face above you.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” Natasha said quietly, even as your eyes darted around, searching for your girlfriend. “It’s 1, so you need to wake up so we can make a decision about tonight,”

“Less?” You asked, your voice barely a whisper when you saw that Natasha was the only other person in the room with you.

Natasha frowned, brushing your hair away from your forehead. “She’s in London, remember? The game against Luxembourg starts soon,”

Your eyebrows pulled tightly together. You hadn’t remembered that they were playing Luxembourg.

“She’s starting?”

“No,” Natasha shook her head. “It’s mostly the young ones starting since the over-under is plus 20 for England,”

Your nose scrunched, and you forced yourself to sit up. “She has to play,”

None of this would be worth it if she never touched the field.

“I think Serina is using this as more of an identification camp,” Natasha countered, stepping in to help you sit up. “The girls need rest after doing both the Champions League and regular play these last couple of weeks,”

You grunted though it sounded more like a pained wheeze than a grunt.

Alessia’s schedule had been nearly as insane as your own for the past few months. It was part of the reason you were so… reluctant to bother her with something as trivial as a tickle in your throat.

“Maybe you should take a page out of her book,” Natasha added.

Your nostrils flared immediately at the implication.

Your job was so much less physical than Alessia’s. You didn’t do anything to deserve rest like she did.

The pressure you both face to perform was inherently different.

She didn’t let down millions of people every time she rode the bench. She wouldn’t crush the dreams of thousands of people if she didn’t take the pitch.

But still, you could already hear her argument ringing in your head.

I expect you to care for the things that belong to me as deeply and completely as I do. That includes yourself. Your needs matter, and I will not allow you to disregard them.

“No.” You rasped, none of the bite you meant appearing in the word.

“Yes,” Natasha countered, shifting the pillows behind you before you leaned back. “There is no way you can perform tonight,”

You huffed, and crossed your arms, glaring at the city beyond the large window to the right of the bed. “People paid-“

“To hear you sing. Not hack your way through a set,” Natasha cut you off. “They’ll be more disappointed if you give them a show that’s not your best. Reschedule the last 3, so they’re worth what they paid,”

Your glare only deepened, and your eyebrows pulled very tightly together as you processed what she was saying (taking a few extra minutes to cut through the thick fog in your brain).

You knew she was playing on your sensibility. You thought ticket prices were disgusting, and had fought to lower them as much as you could. You had made your show longer in retaliation, so the fans got what they paid for.

You wouldn’t give them a sub-par show.

You didn’t look at her but nodded once.

“I’ll have Tony write a statement. Do you want to approve it before it goes out?” She asked, her voice gentle.

You shook your head, your lips pursing.

“We’ll release it then, and I’ll call a doctor so we can get you some real medication,” The redhead continued, ignoring the deep frown pulling at your features.

It wasn’t that you were trying to be difficult. You just knew what would happen the second the people staked outside of your hotel caught sight of a doctor.

But now you felt like you didn’t have a choice, and not in the fun way.

“Fine,” You muttered, a hacking cough following it.

Natasha patted your back until the coughing stopped, and you relaxed back against the pillows. “I’ll take care of everything. I’ll have food sent up, you just watch the game and try to get more sleep before the doctor gets here,”

You huffed but didn’t protest as she tucked the blanket tighter around your torso.

“I know you’re unhappy with all of this, but it is what it is, and we need to look after your health too,” She sighed, turning and bustling around the room, flipping on the television to the game and grabbing a mug you hadn't noticed from the dresser by the door. “Drink that, and I’ll be back in a bit,”

You didn’t respond as she placed the mug on the table beside you, and disappeared through the hotel room door with a soft click.

You wanted to groan. To yell. To throw the mug across the room, but you knew it wouldn’t help.

The other part of you wanted your guitar, not that you were sure your fingers were strong enough right now to actually play.

You closed your eyes, tilting your head back on the pillows.

It wasn’t long before you felt fingers in your hair, though you hadn’t heard the door open again.

You instantly knew who it was, though her perfume was suspiciously missing.

“You look like you got hit by a bus,” She murmured, her breath brushing across your nose.

Your eyes fluttered open, meeting her blue, except it was two shades darker than you remembered, the same shade as the old UNC jersey she was wearing.

“I’m fine,” You croaked, the sound pulling a hacking cough from your lungs that burned as it left you.

“Ah yes, because you sound just fine,” She huffed, her nails scratching lazily at your scalp. “You don’t need to hide from me,”

You blinked slowly, and her form shimmered slightly beside you. “‘M not. ‘M right here,”

“Rule one is honesty for a reason,” She countered, her hand pausing. “You’ve not abided by that.”

You swallowed around the glass in your throat at the confirmation of what you already knew, and your eyes closed again as the heavy weight of it settled on your mind.

You had broken the most sacred rule and you were in trouble. It wouldn’t just be a punishment you would have to take. It would be regaining her trust that would take the longest time.

It was a fragile thing, and you had shattered it.

You forced your eyes open again, determined to say something- anything- that would make it better, except when you did, she was gone.

You blinked heavily at the empty bed beside you. The space she had been seconds ago.

You wanted to shake your head, but with the freight train pounding in your skull, you knew that was a terrible idea.

“This is a very different starting eleven for England, but it’s what we expected. The only change of note is that Alessia Russo is unavailable for this game.”

Your eyebrows furrowed at the television, flashing the starting lineup for the game.

Natasha said Alessia wasn’t starting, but you expected her to at least be on the bench.

You closed your eyes and let your head fall back.

What was the point of suffering alone if Alessia wasn’t even going to play?

You weren’t sure anymore.

******

“I’ve got her,”

You stirred at the familiar voice, and the feeling of gentle fingers running through your hair and the bed shifting next to you. The scent of lavender and honey wrapped around you like a comforting blanket, pulling you closer to consciousness.

Your eyebrows pulled tightly together before your eyes flickered open, meeting the familiar blue of your girlfriend.

“Hey there,” She said softly, her thumb smoothing out the crease between your eyebrows. “How are you feeling?”

You opened your mouth, but nothing but a low hacking cough came out.

“Easy, little one,” Alessia shushed you softly. “Just relax. I’m here, and I’ll take care of you now, ok?”

It was painful how real she felt. Painful how much you wanted to believe she was here with you.

“Trouble,” You mumbled, coughing violently afterward, unable to stop yourself from leaning into her hand.

“I think we should make it your middle name since you seem to find it so often,” She murmured, running her hand again through your hair. “But no. You’re not in trouble. Not right now,”

You made a low, wheezing sound, shaking your head, despite the waves of nausea it sent to your stomach. “Real daddy disagrees,”

She frowned. “Real daddy?”

You swallowed hard, forcing words past your stolen vocal cords. “Not here. In Luxembourg. Won’t fool me again,”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” She said, her nails dragging against your scalp in the way she knew you loved. “Natasha called me last night, and I got on the flight as soon as I could,”

It took a few extra seconds for her words to filter through the unpleasant haze in your brain. Even then, they didn’t make sense.

Hell, her entire demeanor, including the softness in her features as she looked at you, didn’t make sense.

You explicitly told Natasha not to call her, and you couldn’t process her going against that request. Not when Alessia had a game to play.

“My brain is making you up,” You wheezed after another long second.

She breathed out a half chuckle. “While your brain is brilliant, I wasn’t conjured by it,”

You made a low, husky sound that could only be incredulity.

Her thumb again smoothed the space between your eyebrows. “What will it take for you to believe you’re awake?”

You blinked heavily at her, your shoulders lifting and falling.

She shook her head. “You’re too much,”

“No,” You mumbled, the crease between your eyebrows pushing against her finger. “‘M a good girl,”

“Yes. You are always my good girl, even when you’re being a stubborn pain in the ass,” She agreed fondly, leaning down to press a kiss to your too-warm forehead. “Sleep. I’ll be here where you wake up, and maybe you’ll actually believe you’re not dreaming,”

“Promise?” you asked. Sounding small, as exhaustion pulled at you.

She hummed. “I promise,”

Her fingers kept their soft rhythm in your hair as your eyes fluttered closed, and you shifted to press your nose into her shoulder, breathing in her perfume with each rattling intake from your lungs. It surrounded you, soothing the burning in your chest, and soothing the sharp edges in your throat.

For the first time since the lingering tickle started, you actually felt at peace. You felt calm enough to let yourself truly relax.

It would suck when you woke up and Alessia was gone, but doing anything other than allowing your mind to linger in this delusion felt unbearable.

Instead, you allowed yourself to sink into the overwhelming pull of exhaustion.

And you swore you heard an “always,” before sleep pulled you under.

Even if this alessia didn’t turn out to be real, you trusted her. And as angry as you wanted to be at Natasha and Steve for calling her, you knew she was exactly what you needed.

She always would be, even if she was just made up in your mind.

#woso x reader #woso imagines #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #safe harbor universe #woso imagine

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jaggedamethyst · 2 days ago

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circuit breaker 🔬🌌 (part two)

tutor!jayce talis x reader college au

content: reader recently decided to get a physics tutor...it's time for the first session with jayce talis

notes: walk with me and suspend ur disbelief in the actual physics talk...i have to make it somewhat believable that they're actually having tutoring sessions so i dug into the crevices of my brain for old physics topics that aren't too hard if you know them...if you don't..hopefully jayce makes sense LMAOOOO. but i will try not to do too much physics that it takes you out of it, i just want to build the tension and relationship. just trust me.

again mentions of neurodivergence/adhd references but that’s it really

word count: 1.9k

series masterlist

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

Ekko was your longest friend—the closest one you had. He understood your brain even more than Viktor did, which was saying something. Since the day the two of you met in middle school, you became accustomed to one another. You knew each other like the back of your hands—which is why you knew he’d be so upset right now.

Immediately after leaving the student center, you scrambled to the dining hall. You and Ekko had a standing lunch date every day unless one of you said otherwise. There wasn’t always anything to say, but the idea of each other’s company comforted you—comforted him. He had been adamant that even if you two sat in silence, worked on classwork, or simply watched something on your phones, that the time was well spent.

Ekko valued these meetings in particular after his last girlfriend. You didn’t talk about Powder much…but he was devastated when she left town. The three of you had been friends for a long time…she’d abandoned you too. Acknowledging how much harder it may have been for Ekko was hard. You were forced to pick up the pieces and it started with daily check-ins over lunch. They stuck.

You spotted him sitting alone, sipping on his drink through the glass. You tapped on it softly, getting his attention, waving.

He lit up when you approached the table, “Funny seeing you here.” Ekko looked at his watch dramatically, “Almost thought you couldn’t tell time for a second there.”

“I am so sorry.” You moved to sit, pulling out the chair across from him. “I got caught up at the student center, needed a tutor for physics.”

Ekko watched you reach and grab his bag on the table. He rolled his eyes knowingly—you were going for the fries of course.

You continued, “Viktor recommended this guy, his lab partner.”

Ekko nodded, “Thats great…but I’m also good at physics ya know?”

“Oh yes, I totally forgot to ask my best friend to be my tutor. My best friend who knows I cannot stay on topic to save my life…wants me to ask him to be my tutor…so we can definitely not work on physics for the entire session.” You paused, a fry just on your lip, “Besides, I didn’t really have a choice.”

“Okay first, I would be a great tutor! And second, what do you mean, didn’t have a choice?”

“Viktor kinda just…led me there?”

“So you didn’t have a chance to get yourself worked up and find a way to not go…great tactic on Viktor’s part.”

There was a silence, but never uncomfortable when you were with Ekko. You smiled to yourself at that, and then about how surprisingly well the first meeting went.

“He seemed nice…Jayce…my tutor.”

Ekko reached into his bag, grabbing his sandwich. “Am I sensing a but?”

“No, actually. He just seemed genuinely invested in me not feeling bad when it comes to sucking at school.” You paused, rubbing your hands in a napkin. “He said we could work on making it all seem more interesting…which I liked.” Ekko still hadn’t unraveled his sandwich, listening intently. You watched him observe you, but not speak up. “What?”

He shook his head, “Nothing…that’s great.”

The rest of your lunch was spent quietly recounting your days, not much of note happening otherwise. Eventually, you parted ways with an unspoken yet understood promise that you would see each other tomorrow.

Your first session with Jayce was also tomorrow. That was on top of everything else you had to do. So much to be done…such little time, you thought.

The following day came just as quickly as the previous had ended. You woke in a frenzy, almost always rushing to and from one class and toward the next. Then, to tutoring.

You stumbled in, looking for any familiar face. You were met with only one, Jayce’s. He stood quickly, grabbing a folder and his bag before approaching you.

“Right on time.” He turned, walking you toward a room off to the side. “This will be the office we use, I requested one with a white board.” He glanced back at you for affirmation before speaking again. “If you ever come for our meetings and don’t see me in the lobby, you can just come in here.”

“Sounds good.” Your lip curled at your voice coming out more weak than you expected. You had to admire your own consistent ability to embarrass yourself, truly.

He stepped back, allowing you to walk in first, again. “So…I printed these forms out for you.” He opened the folder, taking out some of the pages and spreading them on the table. “This is the basis for everything you’ll need to know about physics. There’s legends here, conversion charts, some of the greek symbols you’ll need to know, circuit diagrams, acronyms…everything.” You slowly sat in your chair, observing the filled pages. Jayce noticed you looking between the table and him with wide eyes.

“This is a lot of information…”

He finally sat down. “It is…but we have time to get you up to speed.”

“But there’s these quizzes.” You looked down at the table, tapping a finger lightly against the wood. “Every week we have to prove we understood the concept and I am already weeks behind so it just keeps building on things I didn’t even understand to begin with. I don’t have time, I have to pass the quizzes so I can pass the class and keep my scholarship. If I lose my scholarship, I can’t pay for school and I’ll have to drop out. And all of this over stupid fucking physics and a professor who seems to want to ruin my life specifically.” You finally took a breath, “I can’t do this.”

“I think you can.”

Your eyes snapped up, meeting his. The look on his face seemed sincere—as if he truly believed in the statement. Hardly knowing you at all, he had enough faith that you could, in fact, do this.

“So,” he clasped his hands together. “What’s this next quiz on? What’s the topic for the week?” He got up, grabbing a marker from the white board’s small shelf. He looked at you expectantly, a brow arching as if to ask you again.

“Vectors.”

He nodded, “Okay, and what confuses you about vectors?”

“Well, I feel like I’m pretty good at understanding angles. But as soon as we add in speed or velocity I am just…confused.”

“Let’s start there.” He wrote the words speed and velocity on the white board in broad strokes, leaving space beneath each. “What is speed? Don’t think about it too hard.”

“How fast something is going?”

“Exactly, like a car.” He drew a makeshift car, and an indicator of both miles and kilometers. “Velocity is different.” He sketched a quick graph, a simple y and x axis and an arrow. “Velocity indicates the direction of an object.” His hand followed the trail of the arrow he drew, emphasizing that it was in motion. “So, velocity is the only one that actually would be considered when you look at vectors. Speed is just a number…velocity represents a change in position…which is what vectors do.”

You grimaced at his attempt to make it make sense for you. The effort was appreciated, truly, but it didn’t stick. You feigned understanding, nodding your head in an attempt to get him to move on and explain more. This was common for you. Something wouldn’t make sense, but you wouldn’t want to hold everyone up, to be a burden. So you would sit in class, half listening, half in another world. After class, you’d be forced to scour videos about the very subject the teacher had spent class time explaining. Unfortunately that was a rabbit hole, too, as you would always end up on videos that had nothing to do with school.

His eyes narrowed, not believing that your nod was enough of an indicator that you understood. “Come with me.” He moved to grab the papers for you, stuffing them in the folder and sliding them to you. You followed without a thought, trying to match his steady pace. He lead you to a nearby park down the street and sat his bag underneath a tree. You copied, placing your bag down beside his. It was impossible to not feel awkward, and yet, he persisted.

“Okay stand here,” he pointed a finger to a random spot on the ground. Your feet stood perfect on the space where the asphalt and grass met, one foot on each side. “So just imagine that standing here, you are the bottom of a line graph along the x-axis. He moved his hand side-to-side, palm down, reminding you that this would be the horizontal line. Hotdogs and hamburgers. You remembered the silly phrase from elementary school.

“Okay, standing here…x-axis.”

He walked over to the grass side, “Okay, over here…in the nice green grass…this is positive.” He walked over to the asphalt, “I’m on your left now, on the asphalt…this is negative.”

“…Okay.”

He walked to mirror your position, one foot on each terrain. Then, he slowly stepped on the grass. “Without thinking about numbers, how would you describe what I just did.”

“You…” Your brows furrowed, “You walked to the grass?”

“Right, and that is-“

“Positive?”

“Exactly.”

In a split second, he darted over to the asphalt. “How bout now?”

“You ran to the…to the negative?”

He nodded, meeting you back at center again. He smirked at how quickly he’d even come up with this demonstration. “This is an example of how vectors work. When you think of me running somewhere, picking up my speed, but moving to the quote unquote ‘negative,’ this could also mean that from my original position-“

Your eyes lit up, “You moved backwards?”

“Yup, or even down. On a graph, I mean.” He smiled with each word, amused by how you caught on to his unorthodox teachings. “But if I move slowly and to the ‘positive’ side?” He waited for you to answer.

“You…moved up or to the right.”

“Just like a point on a graph.” He stood, hands on his hips.

You were on the edge of every word he spoke, analyzing his every movement. You knew it was inopportune, but it was rather characteristic for you to lose focus right then. Jayce’s eyes were…interesting. Your first instinct was to say that they were yellow. When you looked closer you noticed the border of dark brown, the flecks of hazel and copper. It was unlike anything you’d ever seen. You got so caught up, you missed his hand coming up—leaving it lingering in the air.

“What,” he questioned, “Do you not like high-fives as encouragement?”

You chuckled, finally meeting his hand with yours. “I actually prefer snacks as encouragement, but this works.”

It was his turn to laugh, then. It was short-lived. You followed his line of sight to see the same woman from the resource center, the one he’d been so enraptured by. Rightfully so; she was even more beautiful than you thought. The sunlight hit her skin just right, almost glistening. You gulped, somewhat intimidated by her presence alone.

She reached you both, immediately giving Jayce a hug before turning to greet you.

“Hey, how’s the tutoring going?” She nudged the man beside her, looking to you for an answer.

“It’s going well,” you glanced at your phone screen, shit. “I actually should get going, but today was really helpful, thank you Jayce, bye.”

You shuffled to grab your things as quickly as possible, avoiding the look of surprise on Jayce’s face. It didn’t really matter, though.

Ekko was going to be pissed, again.

part three

#jaggedamethyst #angst #jayce talis #arcane jayce #jayce talis x reader #jayce talis x you #arcane #arcane x reader #jayce x reader #jayce league of legends #ekko arcane #ekko x reader #circuit breaker

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chaoticbardlady99 · 1 day ago

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Now and Tomorrow and Everyday After (Sylus x F! Reader) MDNI 18+

Synopsis: In spite of the 'tails' attempts to separate you from Sylus, it only seems to bring the two of you closer.

CW: Fingering, Oral (Female receiving), P in V, Praise Kink, after care, adult themes

Author Disclaimer- I do not own the LADS characters or lore and did use some dialogue from the recent banner's Sylus Card. I do NOT use AI and do not permit anyone else (or any other entity) to copy and advertise my work as their own. Definitely not proof read or edited because I was having “don’t post fear” and just needed to go for it.

Author Note: I made an attempt and this is my first time writing Sylus and posting it so yeah! Thanks for reading- all kind comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated! Remember, to be kind to yourself and others today! I also high key think Sylus is going to this zone to protect MC from Ever cause he makes mention of that but that's beside the point.

*this is my take on the Night of Secrecy Card. I wanted to fill in some gaps*

You pick at your nails nervously under the warm air of the AC. The city of Linkon passes you by- your eyes flickering to Sylus every so often as he drives you both to one of his safe houses.

Your nerves are on fire- not from the danger of whatever pot Sylus decided to stir up, but rather the fact that tonight is the night.

Or so you have decided.

And the night meaning boning. You want to bone this man hard.

Okay- wait, it’s probably more like make love to, but you aren’t sure where you stand in Sylus’ life or if his feelings are all that deep.

And would he even be capable of feeling that way towards you?

The thought makes that tight ring of nerves turn into a heavy ball in the pit of your stomach. Sylus really means a lot to you and you feel he shares that sentiment, but you have also been wrong before and it ended up just being a friends with benefits situation. You weren’t “girlfriend material” as you often joked with Tara.

But he is having you tag along, you think, he didn’t say he didn’t want you around. He just said he was leaving to protect you so maybe-

“What are you agonizing about over there?”

Shit.

“If you changed your mind-“

“No!” You say probably too abruptly, “I’m fine- everything is great, better than great even! Just thinking.”

Sylus chuckles and you don’t even have to look at him to know he is seeing right through. He knows you better than anyone at this point and he knows when something is bothering you.

You would honestly consider Sylus the closest thing to a best friend you could ever have. You can confide in him, depend on him, and you have a lot of fun with him.

For the most part, you think he has learned to depend on you, confide in you, and he certainly seems to enjoy himself when he is in your company. Luke and Kieran say they can tell when he’s been with you because he’s less trigger happy with the people he’s dealing with (which you’ll take as a win if you need to find one somewhere).

Not to mention- the way his hands were splayed along your thighs last night when he sat you on the kitchen counter was mind numbingly intimate. His fingers drew gentle shapes on your bare skin and left goosebumps in their wake. Sylus’ forehead was pressed against your own and his lips mere inches away, but he didn’t kiss you and you have been thinking about that all day.

What if he didn’t want to because he’s just trying to lead you on until you are of no use to him? What if all of these nice things and words and actions are all just to make sure you will still help him and resonating won’t be an issue again?

“What is it?” His voice is gentle, “maybe I can help you be less… befuddled.”

You shoot him a look that earns you a laugh, but you can see the genuine concern in his eyes. Sylus has been so invested in hiding you from the worst parts of his world and now that he’s opened up, he’s worried he’s lost you unintentionally and that all the time you have spent together is long forgotten.

You shrink slightly into your seat- avoiding his eyes the best you can and you say your question as quietly as you possibly can.

“I didn’t catch that, Kitten.”

You say it slightly louder now but still not enough and you can feel the deadpan look he is giving you.

“Howdoyouknowifsomeoneisromanticallyinterestedinyou?”

It’s all a bunch of gibberish, you had been far more confident of your assessment of his feelings when you were both walking and he was holding your hand. That would have been a really natural transition into discovering this question without any anxiety, but now you’ve had time to think about it and overthinking is the enemy of success.

And love, evidently.

“How they treat you, I suppose.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, sweetie, when someone is interested in you romantically, they may do things like hold your hand, call you pet names,” he says with the slightest bit of humor, “go to the movies, buy you gifts, play the Claw Machine until it’s dark outside and the arcade owner has to finally kick you both out. Maybe even play kitty cards in spite of losing almost every match because their opponent is a cheater.”

“I am not a-“

Your brain does a hard reset as you begin to realize what he is trying to tell you.

Sylus is telling you ‘yes- I am romantically interested in you’ and the dumbest, biggest smile ever on your face.

“Was that the answer you were looking for?”

You nod, suddenly feeling shy, “yeah- that was exactly the answer I was looking for.”

The rest of the ride is quiet with one of his hands on the steering wheel and the other on your thigh. You watch as the city quickly turns into a distant dream and Sylus’ safe house, not to your surprise, is very very large and it does very little to calm your nerves.

“I see owning multiple properties can be quite handy. A smart crow always has a few tricks up his sleeves.”

“The same can be said about having multiple slippers.”

You turn to him and stick your tongue out playfully, “ha ha, very funny.

“This safehouse doesn’t happen to warm up, does it?” your teeth begin to chatter slightly and your bare legs are littered in goose bumps, “it’s colder than hell in here.”

Sylus rolls his eyes at you, but begins to walk towards the fire place.

“It is snowing outside.”

The warm hues of the fire illuminated the room and reveals several boxes scattered about, some opened and others not. The rest of the house looks similar to his main house, but maybe slightly more scaled down. It’s beautiful and it has a great view of Linkon and the mountains behind it. It’s almost easy to forget this is a safe house and not a vacation home.

“I’ll leave after dawn. You should stay here for a while.”

You turn with a scoff, “I know your ‘territory’ is pretty safe, but as I said, a hunter doesn’t like being passive.”

“Really?”

You choose to ignore him- knowing all too well that he will suss out your plan to join him on his dangerous little adventure. There isn’t a single thing in the whole world that could convince you to stay here otherwise, but Sylus has his own ways of ensuring things go the way he wants and you don’t feel like waking up handcuffed somewhere for your own safety.

“What’s with all the gifts? I didn’t think you celebrated Christmas.”

Sylus chuckles, “I don’t, sweetie. I held an… ‘appraisal salon’ not that long ago.

“Would you like to take a look?”

It honestly is kind of like being in a candy shop, but the candy shop is the black market and instead of delicious treats, they sell guns and while guns are cool (when used appropriately), they certainly aren’t helping you get Sylus any closer to the bedroom than you were five minutes ago.

“Look at these bad boys!” You hold the unwrapped vintage gun, “this is a classic piece and very difficult to find.”

Then a stroke of genius occurs.

“Let’s have a contest,” you flash a cheeky grin, “whoever can disassemble their gun first gets to ask the other any question they want.”

“You truly are relentless.”

And of course Sylus agrees because he’s Sylus and he loves a good challenge. However, you are extremely determined to be the person asking the question and you know this specific gun quite well. You and Caleb learned how to shoot using these guns and you could disassemble it by telling it to.

The gun is pointed at Sylus’ chin right as he is about to finish putting together his own weapon. You eat up the delicious grin on his face. It makes you feel empowered- he makes you feel empowered.

“First- say the thing.”

He rolls his eyes and gives you a soft smile, “I like your confidence and your determination very much. Now go ahead, ask your question.”

Uh oh- you hadn’t actually thought that far ahead.

“I’m sleepy.”

WHAT ARE YOU EVEN SAYING RIGHT NOW?

Sylus looks a bit perplexed and you cannot blame him- you need to fix this NOW!

“Can you… tuck me in?”

“I thought a certain relentless hunter would ask about my destination.”

You shrug, “I care more about the present than an answer I won’t get. So will you do it or not?”

Sylus is suddenly swinging you up into his arms and you yelp in surprise, but it doesn’t seem to get the usual laughing reaction you thought it would. Instead, there is a heat in his eyes that you have seen before but could never place what he was feeling until you began to feel it too.

“Of course, Kitten,” his nose brushes against yours, “this request is way more powerful than that little gun.”

Every footstep closer to the bedroom is another step towards you having to be brave and you find yourself studying Sylus’ features as the dim light of the hall lamps barely kisses his features. He is so beautiful- you could probably study him forever and find more things you adore about him.

He catches you looking and he returns your smile of adoration- flinging your shoes to the side and going to set you on the couch to quite literally tuck you in.

And ACTION!

“I’m not ready to lie down just yet.”

Sylus cocks an eyebrow, “if you don’t want to lie down, I can keep holding you until I leave.”

“What if I don’t want you to leave?”

Your question hangs in the air and it’s hidden meaning seems obvious to you, but then Sylus puts you down on the ground and you realize he may have missed the actual meaning of your words. Is it that unbelievable that you would want to have sex or are you doing a magnificently poor job of conveying that point?

“We better make the most of our time until dawn then.”

In the spur of the moment and desire coursing through your veins, you find the courage to push him down onto the couch behind him. With a gracefulness you have never been able to execute before, you straddle him and the way his breath hitches makes something inside you break.

Sylus’ face is an adorable and sexy pink and his breathing becomes more unsteady in your clumsy hands.

When your lips finally touch his, it feels as if you have been asleep your entire life until this very moment.

Your fingers find purchase in his hair and Sylus pulls you into him- his fingers surely leaving bruises along the back of your thigh. The kiss is filled with passion and desperation- his skin feels like it’s on fire under your touch and every moan against your lips sends shockwaves through you.

“You really don’t want me to leave.”

To emphasize his point- you tease his lower lip between your teeth that makes him feel absolutely feral.

“S-Sylus,” you pant between kisses, “over there.”

You anticipated him to be a bit rougher, maybe throwing you down on the bed or something, but he lays you down gently like you are a precious, fragile gift. His hands are firm and confident as he cradles you, needing to have you as close as physically possible.

Your clumsy hands make quick work of the buttons on his shirt and loosening his tie. Your hands glide across his chest and your nails gently graze your territory- one of your nails taking the time drag across his nipple. Sylus bites your lower lip in response, his hips grinding into you, and the growl that claws it’s way up his throat excites you. Your heart feels as if it’s beating out of your chest by the time he pulls away and (not so gently) takes of your shirt.

The cool air is a stark contrast to the heat you feel on the inside- Sylus roams your bare chest and core with his eyes, his fingers hooking into your pants and pulling them down. You help by lifting your hips at an embarrassingly fast pace.

“Looks like we are on the same page with not wanting to waste any time.”

He crushes his lips against yours again, leaving bruising kisses on every inch of skin he comes in contact with. Sylus returns the favor from earlier, his practiced mouth circling your nipple with care. His tongue flicks and laps at the sensitive skin and his teeth are quick to follow, leaving love marks and spit littering your skin before making his way to the the other.

You are mesmerized as you watch him- your core wound tight and dripping with need at the sight of him worshipping your body. Leaning back, you close your eyes and enjoy every single sensation.

You have soaked the bed underneath you by the time he makes his way between your legs- you are so caught up in his silent worship that you can barely focus on the task at hand.

Strong, corded arms pull you to the edge of the bed and you jolt from your bliss filled daze- and God are you grateful you have. Sylus looks beautiful between your legs with his cocky smirk and pink cheeks- his warm breath lingers on the sensitive skin between your thighs.

With your legs slung over his shoulders- Sylus licks a stripe along your folds and ends at your clit, circling the sensitive nub and making lewd noises that you have only ever heard in porn. No one has truly, properly gone down on you and when they have, it always seemed like a chore.

“Sy-Sylus, you don’t have to if you don't wan-”

You are cut off when he sucks on your clit, his tongue taking the time to tease the nerves and leave you a whimpering mess.

“I’m not doing anything I haven’t thought about doing for a very long time now,” he kisses along the inside of your thighs, “now stay focused, kitten.

“Don’t look.”

One of your hands tangles in his hair and the other twists into the sheets. Sylus feasts and laps up your pleasure, his face covered in your essence and his nose breathes in your heady scent with happy, deep hums. His large hands roam your body, keeping your hips down and your legs clenched around him. They eventually return to your sore nipples and those practice, cold hands, become warm and attentive. He gropes and squeezes your breasts in time with his tongue as it darts in and out of your heat, his nose working to keep your bundle of nerves stimulated.

“Sy-” you clench your legs around his head tightly, a string of curse words leaving your mouth, “f-fuck- I’m, I’m-”

Sylus’ fingers dip between your folds and his tongue returns to your clit. His other hand holds down your hips as his fingers drive you to your first orgasm of the night. Your moans are shrill and untamed- embarrassing almost- but the more you sing for him, the harder Sylus works to get more and more of those pretty noises out of your mouth.

When he finally comes up for air, your pleasure is dripping from around his mouth and down his chin. Crimson eyes make eye contact with you and he brings his soaked fingers to his lips- shamelessly savoring the taste of you on his skin.

You can barely contain yourself when he begins to crawl along you- your greedy hands using his hands to pull him to you faster. Sylus gazes at you adoringly and you are overwhelmed with your own affections for him. You went from hating him to loving him, desiring him, and at least for tonight, he is all yours.

“What are you thinking about?”

Mindlessly, your hand cups his cheek and your thumb traces the spot where a scar should be from your first encounter.

“Am I being too greedy… if I ask you to keep your eyes only on me?”

Sylus almost looks relieved by your words, grabbing your arm and leaving a plethora of kisses as if to reward you for being open with him.

“You always had that right,” his warm breath and deep tone sends goosebumps of excitement up your spine, “which means… you can be even greedier. Do you want it, kitten?”

Your breath catches when you realize what he is insinuating and you blink a few times before nodding. He smiles and leans down, but you stop him momentarily. Your mind feels like it is going a thousand miles a minute as you run through every negative outcome. What if you are really bad in bed? What if he decides he doesn’t want to be with you or bother with you anymore after you share such an intimate moment with each other?

“Sylus-”

“You haven’t changed your mind, have you…? You just said “yes?” his voice is desperate, “I’m hoping yes is still your answer because… I just can’t hold back anymore.”

A wave of want and need flows through you, but before you can continue, you want to make sure this isn’t the beginning of the end.

“If we do this,” you whisper, “if we have this intimate moment together- you can’t just disappear on me. I want you, Sylus. Now and tomorrow and everyday after.”

The Onychinus leader blinks a few times before the largest smile paints his face.

“Oh, y/n,” he sighs against your lips, “you have no idea how long I have wanted to hear you say those words.”

Sylus kisses you deeply, his lips caress yours and your hands explore each other- your nails make designs in his back as you try to keep yourself as close to him as you possibly can. Sylus’ clothed crotch is stained in the mess between your legs while he rocks his hips into you. His hand is tangled in your hair and the other is pressing you flush to his sweat soaked chest. The kiss only continues to deepen in passion and need- you barely get him to let you take a moment to breathe.

“He-hey- no biting here,” you tease, pulling him back by his hair after he nips the skin on your neck a bit too roughly.

His pupils are blown wide with lust and pent up frustration, “First you want it rough, then you want it soft. You’re a tough one to please tonight, y/n.”

You are lost in the depths of his eyes and the pooling of emotions behind them. You forget to breathe until he breaks eye contact to leave soothing kisses over the bite mark.

“What do you really want?” he uncharacteristically pleads, “won’t you tell me like you just did?”

While his voice may be innocent, you are far from believing this act. With a smirk, you use your strength to roll him on his back and your hands intertwine with his- keeping them pinned to the bed. The look of surprise on his face is refreshing, to say the least.

You lean down and kiss him slowly, nipping at his lower lip and eating up the breathy chuckle he releases.

“I told you a hunter doesn’t like being passive.”

“So you want control?”

You nod victoriously, certain you are going to be the one in control tonight. Sylus returns your confident smile with one of mischief before he somehow pins you down in the spot he was before.

Sylus chuckles deeply, “Unfortunately, I can’t give it to you. Not yet, at least.”

Before you can inquire about what he means, you feel the pressure of two of his fingers sliding inside your wet cunt. An open mouthed, guttural moan leaves your lips and Sylus just watches- his other hand holding your chin so he can make eye contact. He wants to see your pleasure and know he is the only one you are thinking of- the only one you are seeing.

Sylus wants you to know- no, understand- that you are his, not anyone else’s.

“Sy-sylus,” you plead, “pl-please I ne-”

“Don’t run.”

Your back arches upwards and you try to pull away from his hand when you feel a warm wave gush and soak the sheets beneath you. Sylus doesn’t relent and quickly coaxes another orgasm from your shaking body.

“Yo-you’re… so annoying…”

“I won’t deny it,” he crawls off of you with a grin, “I guess you can say I lied. Tonight, you’re not the only one feeling greedy…”

Sylus unzips his pants and pulls down his brief- his cock springs free and slaps against his lower ab muscles. Your mouth is watering in anticipation at his size- of course he’s perfect. He’s Sylus.

He climbs back on the bed and pulls you closer to him- the head of his cock presses against your folds and you feel yourself clench around nothing.

“I misspoke.”

“What…?”

Is he changing his mind?

“Greed can never be satisfied,” he places your hand on his chest, your hearts beating in sync, “but you can temporarily soothe it.

“Say it again, y/n, do you want it?”

Time feels like it stops completely when his eyes meet yours. Your devotion and adoration for each other is magnetic- an unspoken magic between both of you. Your fingers lace themselves in his hair, pulling him to you and you take your time to kiss him slowly, reassuringly.

“This is my answer.”

Whatever lust and want that had been held back erupts within an instant. Sylus crushes your lips with his and he slowly glides himself inside of you- your legs tighten around his torso and your whine of pleasure interrupts the heated kiss.

“F-fuck, y/n.”

Sylus’ pace is both gentle and punishing- you can feel him trying to be gentle, but the more he holds himself back, the more you want him to let go.

“Let go, Sy,” you whisper, “I’m yours.”

His hips set a punishing pace- your collective sighs and moans are the melody to the filthy sound of sex soaked skin and your hips meeting. His tip grazes the opening of your cervix and his abs stimulate your aching clit. The spongy sensitive spot inside of you is relentlessly stimulated with each movement.

“Such a good girl,” he growls into your ear, “fuck you’re so tight.”

Your only response to his praise is pathetic whimpers and cries. It doesn’t stop him- if anything, he only begins to praise you more. Sylus is wrapped up in the moment and wants nothing more than to stay in this moment with you forever. You are safe and in his arms- he is finally reunited with you in body, mind, and soul and this spurs him on more, his cock driving into you harder and harder and his hands digging into the flesh of your ass and hips to keep you in place.

You cling to each other, lips and teeth clashing against each other sloppily as you both lose your composure to the others’ wanting. Your velvet walls clench around him desperately and your fingers try to find purchase on his back, in his hair, anywhere as your orgasm overtakes you.

With a few more rough thrusts, Sylus stutters inside of you and thick ropes of cum coats the inside of your walls and fills you to the brim. He lays on top of you with very little of his weight, his face in the crook of your neck. Sylus leaves soft kisses along your neck and sings words of praise that you can barely register.

At some point, he gets up and you hear the bathtub turn on and the soft padding of feet. Sylus’s strong arms cradle you- taking you to the now filled bathtub that is more than big enough for two.

You straddle his lap so that you can face him. Sylus kisses you slowly while he cleans you- pouring water on your hair, scrubbing your scalp, cleaning the sweat along your shoulders and on the back of your neck. You return the favor, taking your time to make sure he can feel all the love you have for him and how much you care for him.

He helps you lotion and brush your teeth- at no point do your feet ever actually touch the ground again. Sylus sets you on the couch in one of his shirts and begins to change the sheets.

“Do you want some help?” you offer, your legs sore, but not wanting to be too much of a pillow princess.

Sylus rolls his eyes at you, “I’m capable of tackling this mission on my own, sweetie, but I will let you know if another pressing issue arises.”

You scoff playfully and wait for him to finish making the bed. Sylus picks you up and places you on the bed, you snuggle up next to him as soon as he lies down and, much like when you were in the grasslands, you lay your head on his bicep and he pulls you closer to him. You have never felt quite so warm or safe in your entire life and your resolve only hardens further.

You cannot allow Sylus to go by himself into the jaws of danger. You refuse to.

You turn and kiss his bicep, settling deeper into his arms.

“Good night, my clever Crow,” you say with a yawn, “remember not to steal the blanket.”

He snorts, “I will try my best, kitten. Now get some rest- I’ll keep you safe.”

You nod- knowing in your heart that you will always be safe with Sylus around- and let sleep take you. You have a long flight and some ass whooping on the agenda tomorrow, after all.

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yourlocalsmutwriter · 3 days ago

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Unsurvivable ride - Fernando Alonso x reader

Summary: Old man loves his car, and you, once again, written on a train, author loves old men and old men know

Fernando Alonso wasn't the type of person who loved to boast. Sure, when he was young, he was cocky. Impressing female reporters with his card tricks or the fact that he could crack a walnut with his neck. A line that didn't make it to air was him saying, "So you don't need to worry about sitting on my face, I'm strong, I can take it, see?" right after. And even with "Fernando is faster than you," even with the "villain" comments in drive to survive, he wasn't prideful. He was just honest. You wouldn't see him flaunting his wealth or doing noveau rich stuff. Yacht aside, luxury cars aside. Yes, he had those things but didn't ever mention them or use them as props, the way some of the other drivers did. Fernando Alonso was the king of quiet luxury, old money. But, with every job came its little quirks. And in Nando's was the new car.

Don't get him wrong he loved the Valkyrie. It was truly a beautiful car. Fast, too. Perfect for him. But having to prep your shared Monaco living room for it was not fun. Fernando loved having pictures of you two around, the framed memories were a must-have. Whether it was in the tax paradise where most F1 drivers lived, in Spain, to even his garage. Everyone was seeing that Fernando was with you. It was almost funny to see new people guess the nature of your relationship. With you being closer in age to your 20s than your thirties, people assumed you were his relative, a cousin, or perhaps a sister. Some even thought you were his daughter. Then he pulled out the vacation pictures of himself, taking down your swimsuit with his teeth. That cleared up the fact that you were his girlfriend. All the pictures were gone for the day. Any magazines or books that didn't seem like they fit him. Your clothes that hung on the hooks, everything. Truth be told, now the living room looked white and sterile and, thus, perfect for a video. Fernando had to film, and it was fun. Driving around the streets of Monaco in this custom beast didn't suit him still. But he had to do it again and again. That was in his contract.

Despite him having to take it around all the time, you didn't get a chance to ride in it for a long time. Truth is, you avoided it. The two seater was way too fancy for your taste. You couldn't shake the sinking feeling that you'd scratch it just by opening the door or something. So you didn't even come near it. Took public transport or walked. Used the excuse of "I know it's Monaco, and people don't film you as much, but in this, they definitely will.". And that was literally the point. The Aston Martin marketing person called it a mere exposure theory. Show something to people enough, and they will remember it. Then something about the car creating organic word of mouth and this driving sales. Nando thought it was a little ridiculous that all he drove week in and week out was an Aston Martin. Especially after Brazil.

But duty called. And the word of Lawrence Stroll and co was law. So Nando took the Valkyrie out, again and again. Finally, he managed to get you in it. Seeing you in the Valkyrie did something to him. Maybe it was the triple header. Maybe it was you in a mini dress pressed up against him. With the seat belt between your perfect tits, he was a goner. Lord knows how he made it to the restaurant without slipping his fingers inside of you while driving with his left hand. It was a miracle. The fancy restaurant he had picked out had no vallet. Only an exclusive underground parking. Fernando got out of the car with a plan in mind. By the end of the night, your first ride in the Valkyrie was going to be a memorable one.

Everything went smoothly. Then it was time to go. Fernando put on an Oscar worthy performance of looking for his car keys. A pat down of his jeans, a scrunched up face, a low swear in Spanish. All the while, they sat snugley in his jacket pocket.

"I must have left them on the dash. The car, it has this app that lets you do certain functions remotely. Can you look after I've rolled down the window, doll." He asks. Sometimes, he loves how serviceable you are. Others would call you ditzy, but he knew that all you ever wanted was to be a good girl for him. So you didn't question why the Valkyrie's windows could be opened remotely. You assumed it had something to do with its confusing butterfly doors. Fernando rolls it down, and you twist your body inside. At his plea to "really look, make sure the keys aren't somewhere on the floor," your entire upper body is pretzled in. Leaving your ass to stick out. And that's when Nando strikes like a viper. The window moves up. Not enough to hurt you, but it is definitely enough to make you stuck. He unlocks and locks the car again to taunt you, to show you that he wants you there.

"Can I touch you, pretty girl?" He asks, but you can already feel his fingers near your bare legs. He's flipped up your skirt, completely exposing your underwear. As soon as you say yes, he traces the seams of it, enjoying how you get excited over that.

"Look at you, already getting wet for me. We'll have to be quick here, princess. Is that okay with you?" He asks, and he's happy when you practically beg for that. Truth is, he can't stand to tease you right now. He needs you like a fish needs water. Fernando wasted no time in taking off your panties and putting two fingers inside of you. He curls them and tries to get them to hit that spot inside of you. When he uses his other hand to rub your clit, you're a goner, clenching against him. But he doesn't stop.

"You got yours, doll. It's time for me to get mine." He says. Fernando's belt clangs on the concrete, his pants pooled against his ankles. He takes his fingers out of you, and you can hear a loud suck as you guess he puts them in his mouth. The same fingers wrap around his shaft as he guides himself inside of you. The position is driving you both crazy. You can feel his deeper than usual, and you can't squirm away from him. You're at his mercy, and he has none. He thrusts inside of you, almost bottoming out and then slides almost all the way out. He squeezes your ass and hips. Watches himself wreck your pretty weeping pussy with his cock. Feels you get tighter against him. Sees you cum and then clench against nothing as he pulls out. Wonders whether his cum might somehow damage the paint as he watches it on your thighs.

"There goes one incentive to keep driving this thing. Now I'll think of this every time I get in it." Fernando says, to see you squirm and tell him to shut up. Yep, he was gonna make you warm up to the Valkyrie, one way or another.

#f1 x reader #f1 smut #f1 x you #f1 imagine #fernando alonso x you #fernando alonso smut #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso drabble

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sea-lanterns · 10 hours ago

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*rises from the depths of hell in an extremely gay way*

Being in a poly relationship with Chiori and Chevreuse!!! (because I have two hands and two holes)

Going out eating with your two girlfriends and getting pampered by them 🥺🥺🥺 like Chiori helping you get ready so you don't look horrible on your dinner date and then Chevy occasionally sharing her food with you, and at one point you end up unintentionally reenacting that Lady and the tramp scene where you accidentally end up kissing each other by eating the same spaghetti noodle??

And if you were being too bratty you would end up getting handcuffed by Chevy and then pounded by her strap-on while Chiori fingers you 😵‍💫 (I just know her finger game is heavenly) and you can hear the cuffs jingling while your gfs wreck you 😳

(Idk if Chevy would top, this just popped into my mind and it wouldn't leave)

- 🐊 anon, who has lived another day and will make it everyone's problem

CW: Poly relationship, pyro strap one, fingering, slight spanking, threesome

A poly relationship with Chiori and Chevreuse is very interesting. You have your very sharp tongued, quick witted girlfriend Chiori, and you have your equally as strict, but still a bit lenient girlfriend Chevreuse who treats the two of you as her ladies and considers herself the “gentlewoman” of the relationship. Nevertheless, both are the doms when it comes to you, with Chevreuse more focused on bringing you pleasure while Chiori is more focused on actually punishing you for what you did.

What exactly did you do? No idea. Only Chiori really knows tbh, as she’s the one blindfolding you in one of her satin fabrics and making you gag on Chevreuse’s strap. You’re drooling over Chevy’s warm, pyro-infused toy but unable to pull away as Chiori pushes your head down to continue bobbing your head. Chevreuse is extremely turned on, watching as you are situated in between her legs and trying so hard not to choke, all the while Chiori fingers your cute pussy and occasionally gives your clit a small spank.

Sex aside though, I think Chiori and Chevreuse would be quite the fun girlfriends to have. Chiori wears panties and Chevreuse wears boxers, so I think it would be fun if after waking up from a long night of sex, you grab the first underwear you see and it’s either Chiori or Chevreuse. They both silently compete with each other to see whose underwear you grab in the morning, playfully chastising each other when you pick the one that belongs to them.

Also Chiori and Chevreuse are heavily protective over you. They most definitely have body slammed someone or threw someone out the window for you, and even though Chevreuse is a law enforcer whose job is to restrict violence, she lets whatever Chiori does slide. It’s to protect you after all, Chevy would shoot someone in the face for you 😅

#🫧feeding the fishes #🐊 anon #chiori smut #chevreuse smut

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eyneyke · 3 days ago

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Secret smiles pt.2 - Reactions

Pairing: Max Verstappen x PewDiePie!sibling Summary: What if Felix had a genius brother who works as a RedBull's engineer and is also secretly dating Max part 37 of A Calm to my Storm Masterlist

Reddit Thread: “Sam's ‘I'm-In-Love Smile’ Compilation”

u/F1Fanatic4Life: So I’ve been compiling a list of videos of Sam in the Red Bull garage, and I swear every time he has this super sappy smile on his face when he’s on his phone or talking to certain people. I’m calling it his ‘in-love smile.’ And no, I don’t know who his partner is, but Sam never used any gendered word for his partner and in his last live, Felix also said 'boyfriend or girlfriend or something else' so I say we just use non-gendered words when mentioning them until Sam says something. Anyways, I bet he’s thinking about them in all these moments. Here are a few videos that fans have captured.

Video 1:

Sam is seen walking through the Red Bull garage with his phone in hand, grinning like an idiot while typing away. A mechanic asks him something, and he just chuckles and keeps typing before shaking his head.

u/SpeedDemon1995: "That’s the smile of someone who’s getting cute texts🥹"

u/RBRObsessed: "How does someone make texting look that adorable? I need to know what’s on his phone!"

u/NotACreep: "You just know he’s texting someone he’s really into. That grin is everything."

Video 2:

Sam is seen standing with Christian and Adrian Newey, chatting casually. Christian says something to him, and Sam starts blushing and laughing softly while looking down at his phone, his face glowing with that same smile.

u/F1DramaQueen: "The way Christian smirks like he knows exactly what’s going on... I wonder if he’s teasing Sam about his mystery partner."

u/RedBullStan: "Newey’s trying to keep a straight face, but I bet they all know. Christian’s probably the one who introduced them or something equally corny like that! XD"

u/PewDieFan: "Okay but can we talk about how precious Sam looks when he blushes? Partner or not, I’m dead."

Video 3:

Sam is walking toward Max’s car, but just before he gets there, he pulls out his phone, looks at the screen, and his face lights up. He quickly pockets the phone when Max arrives, but the smile is still on his face as they chat about something technical.

u/MaxSuperFan: "Bro... if this isn’t a I'm-in-love smile, I don’t know what is. Look at him. LOOK."

u/WhatIsAir: "Max just ignoring look on Sam's face and is probably talking about car stuff, and Sam’s clearly in another world. Who’s got his attention like that??"

u/ThisIsSuspicious: "Lowkey think Max knows who Sam’s dating... he smiled too when Sam did 🤔"

Video 4:

Sam is seen casually leaning against a wall, talking to a Red Bull team member. He’s nodding at whatever they’re saying but keeps sneaking glances at his phone, smiling to himself every time it lights up.

u/TextingAddict: "He’s doing that thing again!! Every time he looks at his phone, he smiles like a lovesick puppy."

u/RedBullRacingFan: "My heart is melting! That smile is way too soft for just regular texts."

u/SamLover: "Whoever this person is, they're so lucky to have Sam smiling at his phone like that!"

Video 5:

Sam and Christian are walking through the paddock, and Sam’s phone goes off. He looks at the screen, and that now-familiar grin spreads across his face. Christian notices, leans in to say something, and Sam bursts out laughing while turning his phone screen away.

u/TheChristianFan: "Christian definitely knows who the mystery beau is. Look at the way he’s teasing Sam!!"

u/MaxFanatic: "Sam’s always smiling when he’s with Christian or on his phone. I’m convinced Christian has insider knowledge!"

u/SuspectSquad: "Christian was probably like, ‘Tell your boyfriend I said hi,’ and Sam lost it😂"

Video 6:

Sam sitting in the back of the garage during a down moment, scrolling through his phone and giggling quietly to himself. Every now and then, he blushes and bites his lip as if trying to contain his smile.

u/HeartEyes4Sam: "Okay, WHO is making him blush and giggle like that??? That’s the ‘I’m in love’ smile if I ever saw one."

u/RBRForever: "I swear, every time Sam gets a text, he turns into a mushy pile of adorableness. I need to know who’s doing this to him."

u/DetectiveF1: "I’m putting money on this being a fellow F1 person. He’s always at races when he gets these texts."

---

u/F1Fanatic4Life (OP):

"So, I think it’s safe to say Sam is 100% in a relationship, and whoever it is makes him insanely happy. I wonder if they’re in F1, because he seems to be getting these texts all the time during race weekends but not during race time. Whoever it is, they better treat him right!"

---

Top Comments:

u/F1MysterySolver: "This has to be someone in the paddock, right? How else would he be smiling like this during race weekends?"

u/SusieDetective: "I mean, Christian and Newey definitely know who it is, but they’re both tight-lipped. Ughhh, I need answers!"

u/SamTheTechGuy: "I’m just here thirsting over Sam’s hands while he’s texting. But yes, also, WHO IS THE PARTNER?!"

u/MaxVerLover: "The mystery continues... but Sam looks so in love 🥺 Whoever it is, they’re making him super happy, and I love that for him."

u/TeamSam: "At this point, I don’t even care who it is. I just want more of these videos. Sam’s boyfriend smile is my new fave thing."

#fanfic #writing #max verstappen x male reader #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #funny #max verstappen x male oc

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lillaydee · 1 day ago

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Uncoupled - The Beginning

Roommate! Joel Miller / Reader

Two people leaving their marriages ended up going through the mandatory one year separation together before filing for divorce.

Nothing could possibly happen in a year, right?

WARNINGS: Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Ellie & Joel Bonding (The Last of Us), Good Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Soft Joel (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Hurt Joel (The Last of Us), Protective Joel (The Last of Us), No age gap, Roommate Joel, Teacher Joel, Handyman Joel, Insecure Joel, Minor Character Death, Grief/Mourning.

SERIES MASTER LIST

June

---

… Previously on Uncoupled …

(Sorry, couldn’t help myself – insert dramatic music here, if you prefer. In my head, it’s the L&O SVU two-note since Joel had apparently committed a serious offense)

She pleaded with him to stay, telling him she knew he didn’t really want to leave. Because if he did, he wouldn’t have left something extremely valuable to him with her at the house. Please, Joel, come back to me. I’ll do better, she said, practically grabbing his arm to lay in bed with her, before losing consciousness again.

His thoughts and reminisces of their past life was suddenly interrupted by his phone dinging. Someone had texted him. An unknown number.

‘You sure your girlfriend doesn’t want her husband back, Miller?’

A picture quickly followed. Joel could feel his heart drop to the floor, the picture blurry from his immediate tears, his insides turned ice cold.

Another text. From you, this time.

‘Max just stopped by. Something happened. I’ll explain when you get back, okay?’

And whatever warmth that his body had left just escaped his form altogether.

**********

His phone was knocked out of his hand. It flew across the small room, hitting the wall before dropping on the ground, the screen cracked beyond recognition, darkened.

He turned around to see Jen, who he thought was unconscious, wide awake, glaring daggers at him.

“Why are you still thinking about her? You’re here with me. She cheated on you, Joel. If you could leave me for cheating, why won’t you leave her?”

Joel forced himself to stay calm. If there was one thing Maria and her colleague who was handling his divorce had told the two of you time and again, it was to stay calm. Be patient. Assume everything being done to you a trick to get evidence against you. Make you look bad in the divorce. So yes, he will stay calm. He wasn’t going to give her any ammunition. Not right now.

“How did you know she was cheating on me?”

Her face warped from anger to panic. She dismissively mentioned the picture someone just sent him.

“That was a kiss, which was somehow conveniently captured while it was happening. Weird how someone just happened to stand by to take a picture, wasn’t it? And let’s not forget, you kissed me too. And I’m definitely not cheating on Lily with you.”

He tried his best to get his feelings in check, despite his shaking hands and the turmoil going on in his heart. Even though he doubted you were willingly kissing Max, he couldn’t help the jealousy and anger that was spreading steadily throughout his body, as he was sure you would have felt if someone had sent you a picture of him and Jen kissing. As he was sure you felt when he told you she had kissed him.

“She fucked him, Joel. He told me. He went to the house sometimes when Ellie was napping after school.”

Bingo.

He knew she was lying. How could you have done that? He picked up Ellie, not you. If she was napping, it was either at his classroom or office, your bakery, or at home with him. Never with you alone. Not without him being present too. When you were not with him you were at the bakery, with Tess, Frank and Alice. He doubted they would have let you get away with such stupidity. Even if you went out for deliveries, Tess or Frank was always with you. And more importantly, he knew you wouldn’t do that to him, with Max, of all people. He trusted you with his life, let alone his heart.

He was angry. Angry she had stooped so low, angry that Max had stooped so low. That they were still trying to separate you and him, despite the two of you making it quite clear that you were not interested in reconciliation.

“Joel, honey, please. Can’t you see? She’s no good for you. Look, why don’t you come home with me? We can start over, I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll change, I promise. All this,” she said, gesturing to the room, the wires on her chest, the tubes going into her arm, “Had shown me how important you are to me, Joel. Life is short, honey, let’s not throw away 15 years of love for something so silly. Please? I need you right now, Joel. Are you really going to leave me alone after all this?”

Joel didn’t say anything.

“Joel, how could you stay with her after a few months when she did exactly what I did to you? We were together 15 years Joel! Is that how little you feel about me? Don’t you have any love left for me at all?”

Joel remined silent. His mind calculating his next move. He needed to call you. But his phone was shattered and dead on the other side of the room. And try as he might, he couldn’t remember your number. He cursed the fact that he hadn’t bothered remembering any numbers other than Tommy’s and his Mama’s. He could, he supposed, call them and have them warn you, but what if Jen noticed? She wasn’t letting him out of her sight, to the point of stubbornly fighting her anaesthesia.

He could just leave. But knowing that Max and Jen had gone out of their way to find reasons to split the two of you up, he was now worried that she would use his leaving in her condition as a way to turn the divorce around on him. Make him the guilty party. Worse, that it would make you look like the guilty party too. And he couldn’t, wouldn’t chance putting you and Ellie under any additional duress at this point. You were so close. One week.

“Joel, come back. If you do, I’ll give you back what you thought you had lost. Surely that baker and the little orphan are not worth losing a pretty penny?”

His head snapped towards his soon to be ex-wife at this statement.

Just like that, he knew what he had to do.

**********

You stood in the doorway of Ellie’s room for what felt like hours, watching the little girl sleep, tears falling down your face, wondering how on earth you were going to tell her Joel had left. You couldn’t believe it. You couldn’t believe Joel would fall for such a stupid manipulation. Someone took a picture of the kiss. Who? You were not a celebrity. Why would someone stand by in front of your house with a camera to capture a kiss between you and your soon to be ex-husband?

You were suddenly angry. At Joel. He told you Jen kissed him. And as much as you wanted to tear her face off for that, you stood by him. Believed him when he said he didn’t want the kiss. How could he just leave without listening to your half of the story?

You went into your closet to ‘help’ him pack. You were seething. He wanted out? Fine. You’ll help. He didn’t even have to come back for the rest of his stuff. You’ll pay someone to deliver them to him.

But when you opened your closet, you were dumbstruck to find all his belongings, his clothes, his books, his toiletries, were all still where they were before he left. What the heck did he pack into those suitcases?

This wasn’t making any sense.

Your phone dinged. You went to the living room where you left it. Pictures of Joel carrying his suitcases back into his marital home, Jen in tow, flooded your screen. All from Max. You tried Joel’s number again, still straight to voicemail. You texted him again, still undelivered.

Fuck, you were going crazy. You didn’t want to call anyone, lest they, namely Bill, decided to go out on a warpath and tear Joel’s head off. Not when you yourself was still confused and unsure of what was going on.

Max called you. Again and again. You didn’t pick up. At this point, you needed to be very careful with him. You always were before, listening to Maria’s advice. Never picking up, never replying his texts. You cursed your weakness for letting him hug you earlier. Cursed the fact that you felt obliged to let him, that you were, in no small way, mourning the end of the marriage you had with him.

You tried to recall what happened when he came home. But you found yourself encased in the memory of Jen’s smug face, pushing the fact that Joel had decided to go back to her into yours, the flood of emotion you were feeling, the defeat, the confusion, and try as you might, you couldn’t get the image of her wedding ring on her finger out of your mind. Was Joel wearing his? What did he say to you before he left?

He’ll be back for the rest of his stuff.

Fuck. Your head was swimming. You found yourself sitting numbly on your couch, the one you always snuggled with Joel on, laying yourself down and pulling the blanket draped across the back over yourself, Joel’s smell still on it, and closed your eyes, ignoring the stubborn tears that fell as you tried your hardest to fall asleep, hopefully waking up when this nightmare was over.

God, you hoped this was just that. A nightmare.

**********

The sound of his pick-up truck driving up your driveway woke you. You sat up, waiting for whatever may come next. Although groggy, your mind was fresh with today’s happenings. You felt helpless, confused, really not knowing what to expect. The sounds of doors opening and closing caused you to sit frozen. Was there someone with him? You knew that was his truck. But your heard two doors opening and closing. Did he bring Jen back here with him?

The sounds of a key being inserted into the lock and the jiggle that followed was perhaps the loudest sounds you had ever heard in your entire life. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t breathe. You felt your tears were readily pooling behind your eyeballs, just ready to be pushed out at a moment’s notice.

The door opened, and Joel walked in, carrying the two suitcases he had brought out with him back in. He saw you immediately, and your tears found their way out uncontrollably. He took long strides and sat next to you, pulling you into his arms, placing you on his lap, hugging you tight, kissing your temple over and over again, telling you he’s sorry, he didn’t have a way of telling you. He had to do it, he couldn’t chance Jen knowing. He’s so sorry.

“Joel, he tricked me, I didn’t want to kiss him, he pretended to come over to bring the rest of my things and he asked for a hug and I was so stupid…”

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay, I believe you. No, baby, don’t cry. I’m not mad at you. I know they planned this. Shh… shh… no baby, I’m not going anywhere, I’m here. I’m sorry I scared you… I’m not leaving you. I’m never leaving you. Shh… shh…”

He kept coaxing you, comforting you, holding you close, until you calmed down. When you finally pulled back from him, his own eyes were filled with tears, apologizing to you for scaring you, before pulling his phone out, showing you its shattered carcass.

He told you everything that happened at the hospital. He told you why he had to come back and pull what he pulled – he had to, to retrieve something that was invaluable to him. Something he thought he had lost years ago. Something he had not even thought of this past year, already accepting he had lost it, or so he thought.

He pulled a broken piece of thick black string out of his pocket, tied to a worn out penny with a tiny hole drilled into it. You took it from him. The penny was so worn out parts of it were missing, no longer round nor smooth around the edges. You looked at him, confusion in your eyes. He put you through all that, for this?

“My late Papa taught me how to play the guitar. This was the penny he used as a pick. He used to wear this string around his wrist. He only took it off when he wanted to play. When he died, I wore it around mine. Never took it off. I only stopped using it as a pick when it started to fall apart,” he told you, running his thumb on the uneven edge. “It fell off my wrist one day, I just looked down and saw that it wasn’t there anymore. I looked for it for weeks, months, and finally I gave up, figuring it fell somewhere when I was out and about.”

He took it back from you, looked at it for a long time, before continuing.

“Today, I found out she had found it and kept it. Never told me. She knew how much this meant to me. My Mama kept his wedding band, Tommy kept his watch, and I kept this. It’s all I have of his.”

You laid your head on his chest and traced your finger around the penny in his palm. He closed his hand around yours, kissing you on the temple, inhaling your scent in as long as he could.

“She told me that she would give it back to me, if I agree to go back home with her. I wasn’t planning to come home first, but she insisted. I had to, she threatened to destroy this. I couldn’t call you to warn you, I was kind of hoping you would be at the bakery. When I agreed, she took out her wedding band and put it back on. I’m sorry for whatever she said to you. I tried to be as fast as I could, minimize the damage, you know? Took empty suitcases with me to make her believe I was going back. But clearly, she did what she did. I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so sorry. But it’s over, I’m here, I’m not going anywhere. I just really wanted this back. I wanted to give it to Ellie one day, you know? My Papa taught me the guitar, and I’m teaching Ellie, and I wanted to pass this on to her one day.”

“Like an heirloom?”

“If it’s too presumptive of me…”

“No… it’s perfect.”

He interlaced his fingers with yours, the penny in between your palms.

“I love you, Lily, I’ve been in love with you for a while, I didn’t say it because I thought it was too soon, but thinking I could’ve lost you today, I can’t hold it in anymore. I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you and Ellie. I’m so sorry. Please understand, I didn’t mean to scare you like that, much less hurt you. Please.”

He held your forehead close to his own, begging you to forgive him. You kissed him in response, telling him you forgave him, and asked that he forgave you too. He told you there was nothing for him to forgive, lifting you up and taking you to bed, where he proved to you again and again that his love was only for you, and that he was never leaving you as long as he was breathing.

As he held you close in his arms that night, you told him you loved him too.

**********

Joel went over to the new neighbour’s house the next morning before school and came back with a huge smile on his face. He told you to expect some texts from them, since his phone was still out of commission. He took Ellie’s phone with him to school just so you had a way of calling him if needed, the little girl thankfully clueless about yesterday’s drama.

You received a video from the young man down the street, immediately going to Joel’s classroom to show him. He took you to the staff common room, where Lucy was idly going through her phone, a cup of noodle in her hand. She looked a bit uneasy seeing you there but managed a smile regardless. Joel sat next to her, asking her what she was doing in front of his house the day before.

“What? I wasn’t in front of your house. I don’t know where you live,” she said, rather defensively.

He showed her the video in return, a security camera the young men had installed on their driveway, where she could clearly be seen standing just off your driveway with her phone in hand.

Her face turned chalk white.

“Listen, remember the Christmas concert? When you kissed me against my will? That was sexual harassment, Lucy, in case you didn’t know. I haven’t told anyone about it, didn’t want to ruin your career or anything, but I will, if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”

“I didn’t kiss you at the Christmas concert,” she attempted, panic surrounding her. She didn’t think of it that way, obviously.

“I saw it, I was there. I can talk too,” you quickly supplied.

Lucy deflated. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and told Joel that Jen had approached her. She was looking for Joel one day and heard Lucy telling another teacher about her unrequited crush on Joel and her lame attempts to forget him – going after the new Maths teacher hoping that she could forget Joel. It wasn’t working. Jen offered a very lucrative payment if she would just help Max out with the picture. She figured, why not? If she couldn’t have him, the least she could do was make sure you couldn’t have him either, make a few bucks in the process. So she went to your place at the agreed time, took some pictures and sent them to Max.

She agreed to give a statement to Maria in case Max tried to use the picture against you in the divorce, and apologized for the trouble she may have caused, looking very ashamed of herself. Joel quickly asked her to go to his classroom with the two of you so you could arrange a Zoom session with Maria for the statement. The sooner the better.

Just as the three of you left the common room, you ran into Jen, who had come in looking for Joel, stomping her way towards the common room. Her initially indignant face snapped shut the moment Lucy came out, knowing that she had talked.

She took a deep breath, tried to put on a smile and stepped closer to Joel, who immediately pulled you behind him, just in case.

“You said you would come back to me.”

“No, I said I would go home with you, and I did. I didn’t say I would stay married to you.”

“You drugged me, stole my belonging and left me to die!” her perfect teeth were so gritted at this point you could hear them squeak.

You could see why Joel said she was not as beautiful as you thought she was. She looked like a deranged Barbie. Even Lucy was taken aback.

“No, I gave you your prescribed medication, took my belonging, and left when you fell asleep.”

“And you,” she snarled at Lucy, making the leggy blonde take a step back, “You owe me ten thousand dollars!”

“Really? For what?” you asked, an innocent look on your face.

Jen made to grab at you, but Joel stopped her, “Do it, and I will take everything you have with me,” he said, “I’ve been nice, all I ask is you leave us alone. But do this, push my patience, and you will see just how vengeful I can get. Try me, Jen.”

He looked so serious, Jen shrunk back. Never in all the years she had known him had she ever seen him this angry. It actually scared her. It suddenly occurred to her he had never snapped in all the years she had known him, not even when he caught her cheating on him, and now, when the safety of the woman he loved was threatened, he might actually hit his limit.

She stared at him for a while, before finally coming to her senses. She shook her head in defeat, turned around and left.

**********

You walked out of the meeting room with Maria, arms around each other, thanking her for coming in to settle this during her maternity leave. She insisted, really. You would have been fine if one of her associates had come in in her stead. No, we’re sisters now. Sisters help each other, she assured you.

The door to the meeting room opposite yours opened, and Joel walked out, immediately coming to you and Maria, giving her a kiss on the cheek and hugging her before taking you into his arms, both of you releasing thankful breaths.

Honestly, the two of you had never felt lighter or happier. It’s all over. Papers were willingly signed, no drama.

Max and Jen finally accepted defeat, realizing that you and Joel were never going back to them. Max even apologized, actually cooperating throughout the entire process. He knew he was defeated when Joel seemed unphased by the picture of the kiss – he had to admit that Joel was a bigger man than he was – he knew he wouldn’t have accepted it if it were him. And ultimately, he accepted that Joel really did love you for who you were, unlike him. Despite her cooperation, Jen didn’t speak to you or Joel again without her lawyer present, worried Joel would actually stay true to his words and take her to the cleaners.

The three of you walked into the bakery where everyone was waiting, Jackson happily cooing in his Uncle Bill’s arms, Ellie making funny faces at him. There was no problem finding willing babysitters in this family, Frank had said.

The family toasted the happy occasion, and the possibility of many more to come. Joel held you in one arm, Ellie in the other, looking so content and happy he could burst. He gave Ellie a slobbery kiss and turned to give you one, Ellie immediately making a face and climbing down from his hold.

“God, they’re worse than my parents!”

**********

“Joel!”

Hmm?

“Joel! Wake up!”

Joel opened one eye, feeling way too comfortable to open both. He had you in his arms, his bed all warm, his face full of your smell.

“Joel!”

“What?”

“Wake up!”

He lifted his head up, looked at the alarm next to your side of the bed. It’s 5 am.

“What are you doing up? You have school in a few hours. Go back to sleep. First day of big girl school! Yay!” he said sleepily, before burying his face in your hair again.

“Joel! Where’s your wife?”

What? He’s holding you. You’re right…

He lifted his head and looked at you. Only it wasn’t you he was hugging. It was your pillow, and that darned furry blanket his Mama had knitted for you that you suddenly couldn’t live without.

He shot up. Ellie was looking at him, judgment in her eyes, arms crossed on her chest.

“Her car is gone. I thought I heard someone leave. I thought she wasn’t supposed to go to the bakery today.”

“She wasn’t. She hasn’t since last week.”

He leapt out of bed and knocked on the guest bedroom. Anita answered, eyes bleary from sleep.

“Lily’s gone,” Joel shouted at her, getting dressed as fast as he could, almost falling face first into the closet door trying to get his jeans on. “Ellie! Go back to bed. Mama, watch her will you?”

“No, I’m going with you,” Ellie protested, already pulling her jacket on. Anita joined her, magically dressed, ridding the crusts in her eyes.

Joel didn’t even want to stop to protest. He grabbed his keys and ran out, peeling out as soon as Anita buckled Ellie in from her seat. His phone rang just as he pulled in behind the bakery, parked right in between your car and Tess’s, almost ramming into Frank’s. He jumped out, almost bulldozing Tess over as she opened the service door for him.

“I was just calling…” she started, giving up as he ran in to find you. “She’s nesting,” she told Anita, “In front of the oven,” she pulled Ellie in for a hug, shutting the door behind her.

You were on all fours in front of the oven, watching the croissants rise, breathing in through your nose, releasing through your mouth, sweating profusely. Frank sat next to you, breathing with you.

Joel squatted next to you, choosing his words carefully.

“Baby, what are you doing here? You were supposed to be in bed, resting.”

“I’m fine, I just wanted to make sure the croissants are oohhh!!!” your body stiffened, and your breathing quickened, sweat pooling on your forehead.

Joel froze.

“Erm, sweetie, I think your wife’s in labour,” Anita said, immediately getting behind you to rub your back.

“What? She’s not due for another week!”

“Babies do come early, sweetie. Lily, honey, when did your contractions start?”

You calmed down a little, “Yesterday morning,” you told her.

Joel fell on his ass. “Why didn’t you tell me? You seemed fine… I thought…”

“It wasn’t that strong… I thought it was just those Braxton thingies. I’m fine. Ooooh!!!”

“Okay, sweetie, that’s far too close for comfort. Hospital, now!” Frank said, helping you up.

“No, the croissants…”

“The croissants will be fine. Come on, now,” Tess chimed in, helping Frank get you up.

“But Ellie’s first day of school…”

“She’ll be fine, honey, that’s what I’m here for,” Anita said, helping you walk out to Joel’s truck.

Ellie came to hug you, trying hard not to let you see her worries. She was so scared for you, but excited to meet her little brother or sister.

“I’m so sorry I can’t send you to school today, Bellie,” you told her, hugging her tight. “Anita, my bag, in my trunk.”

“I’ve got it,” Frank said, shutting your trunk, your bag and pillow in his hands. He placed them in the passenger seat of Joel’s truck.

“I love you Beans, you can do this, okay? Love you so much,” Ellie said, not letting you go.

“I’ll take her to the hospital after school. I’ll go over after she’s settled. Take some of Joel’s stuff with me,” Anita told you, gently peeling Ellie off you, giving you a hug as well, telling you she will see you soon. Tess and Frank did the same, giving you kisses. They’ll take turns visiting later, they told you. They’ll call everyone.

Okay, you nodded, as Frank helped buckle you in and closed the door for you. Okay, you’re all set.

Except, the driver, your husband, your rock, was not there.

They found him still sitting, frozen in place in front of the oven, a panicked look on his face. It took a few minutes of coaxing from Anita to get him to calm down and finally snapping back into reality before running out to you, helping you breathe through another contraction. He hugged you, kissed you, apologizing for panicking, before putting the gear in reverse and taking you to the hospital.

**********

It had been quite a ride. During those first few weeks after he left Jen, Joel often found himself wishing that the 15 years he was with Jen didn’t happen. They brought him to where he was then, a broken, defeated man at 30, single for the first time in his adult life, not knowing where life would take him, wondering if he would ever be happy again.

But right now, as he watched his brand new BabyGirl feed, he knew everything that had happened, happened for a reason. Never in his life did he ever think he could be this happy. No amount of service, kisses, hugs, money, even love, could ever repay his debt to you for how happy he was at this very moment.

Things were surprisingly calm after the divorces were finalized.

The bakery was doing well. Business picked up, and you ended up hiring two more staff to help with the demand.

Joel proposed to you after only six months. The two of you married at City Hall, with only the usual suspects in attendance. Benny even made a surprise appearance. Your reception was a potluck barbeque in your now gorgeous backyard. Joel rented a small cabin in the mountains for your honeymoon. There was no extravagance, no over the top ceremonies. Just the people you loved, celebrating the two of you.

Your house was now devoid of the ugly carpeting you hated. And Joel stripped and repainted the kitchen cabinetry to make your kitchen look brand new again.

It’s home.

Lucy transferred to another district, embarrassed at the way she had been acting throughout that year, opting to start anew in a brand new place.

Max accepted a job overseas, selling his house, and in a surprising move, gave you half of the profits, his way of apologizing for treating you so badly over the years. He actually shook Joel’s hand, congratulating the two of you on your marriage, wishing both of you well. He texted you a congratulations when he found out the two of you were expecting.

Jen left the city soon after the divorce. Last you heard she was somewhere in Europe, living as one of those van-lifers. She had a travel blog, apparently, not that you or Joel ever saw the blog. She had never contacted you or Joel again.

A soft knock came from the door. Anita came in, a nervous Ellie following behind. Her little face lit up as she saw your new daughter. Joel lifted her up and hugged her tightly, asking her if she was ready to meet her sister. She nodded excitedly. Joel placed her next to you in bed, sitting on the edge of the bed next to her. You placed your now sleeping daughter in her waiting arms, and Ellie carefully held the tiny little girl, hand supporting her neck and head, just as she had practiced at home.

“Hi Sarah,” she said to the sleeping tot. “I’m your big sister, Ellie.”

She gave her sister gentle kisses, and little Sarah opened her eyes slightly to look at her big sister, before closing them again, sleeping contentedly in her arms.

“Look over here, everyone,” Anita said softly, “Smile!” and snapped the first official picture of the new Millers.

Joel kissed you on your forehead, his arm stretching protectively around his ladies. He knew right there and then that he would suffer through those 15 years over and over again if he had to, knowing that it would bring him here, to his very own little piece of heaven.

THE END

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