#would take too long to tag everyone who crashed

[atelophobicself]

watching quali on mute while in a meeting and having to go back to see all the crashes.

[wholoveseggs]

Homecoming

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

{Daemon Targaryen x Reader} You haven't seen your husband since your passionate wedding night, leaving you to doubt his love. Now, three months later, you're round with child and missing him more than ever—until he suddenly returns.

♡♡ This is purely just to get all my daddy Daemon feelings out, I 100% believe he has a breeding kink. ♡♡

3.2k words - Warnings: smut, major breeding kink, slow sex, so so so much fluff, a little bit of angst and Daemon apologizing in bed...

@elijahstwink @starshipcookie @absolutemarveltrash @odairtrqsh @darkened-writer

@cheneyq @fallout-girl219 @nina6708 @evasmlp @sadmonke

@deamonloverrrr @urmomsgirlfriend1 @moonsleep

It was another quiet night, in a bed far too large for one. The wind was gently blowing through the curtains, bringing with it a cool breeze and the smell of the sea. It was late, and everyone was asleep, yet you laid awake, tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep.

You rolled over onto your side, the silk of the sheets sliding against your bare skin. These days, sleep evaded you, no matter how much you tried. If it wasn't your thoughts keeping you up, it was your changing body and the ever growing life inside of you.

Three months ago you had gotten married to the prince Daemon, a dream of many girls across the kingdom. But your marriage was hardly that. The day after the ceremony you woke up in an empty bed, and hadn't seen your husband since, leaving you to wonder if you had done something wrong.

He had left you no letter, no message. Nothing. Only the memory of your wedding night, the way he touched and kissed you, his sweet whispers of adoration as he made you his. On the loneliest days you would close your eyes and remember it all, his lips on yours, the way his fingers caressed you, the feel of him inside you.

You place your hand on the small bump of your stomach, a smile spreading across your lips. Although it had only been one night, he did his duty and you were pregnant. A piece of him was always with you.

But it wasn't enough.

You longed to see him again, to touch him and be held by him, to tell him of the life growing within you. You wanted so desperately to be with him, but instead you were left with the ghost of his love, a memory that wasn't enough to fill the hole in your heart.

You sighed, trying to push away those thoughts, and attempted to fall asleep, but every time you closed your eyes all you could see was his handsome face. You opened them again and sat up, staring into the darkness.

You could see the light of a torch through the cracks of the door, and the sound of footsteps. You knew exactly who it was, the guard outside your door. His shift was almost over, and soon a new one would be out there, watching over you. There was a muffled conversation, and the sound of someone walking away.

A few moments later the door cracked open, and the torch light poured into the room. Your eyes squinted at the sudden brightness, and as the person entered the room they shut the door.

You were about to give your guard a kindly lecture on waking you up when you noticed that it wasn't the guard who had walked in, but a hooded man. You opened your mouth to call for help, but before you could get a sound out he was at your bedside, his hand covering your mouth.

"Don't scream, my love, it's me." He whispered.

You blinked at the voice, your mind taking a second to process what was happening. Your eyes widened, and you reached for his hand. He took it away from your mouth and intertwined your fingers together, his other hand pulling down his hood.

"Daemon." You breathed, looking up at his face.

The torchlight casted a warm glow on his handsome features, highlighting his strong cheekbones and sharp jawline. His hair was longer than the last time you saw him, hanging past his shoulders, his eyes were dark and clever, looking you over with admiration.

You pulled him towards you, your lips crashing into his. He let out a sigh, a sound that sounded almost pained, and returned your kiss. Then you harshly pushed him away, hitting his chest.

"Where have you been?" You demanded.

"I had matters to attend to." He told you.

"Three months!" You cried. "Three months I waited for you, and you were doing what?"

He smiled and pulled off his cloak, his eyes raking over your form. He reached out to cup your cheek, his thumb gently stroking your skin.

You wanted to be angry with him, you really did, but the look he was giving you, like he was starved, melted away your resolve. You leaned into his touch and looked up at him through your lashes, a smile tugging at your lips.

"Asshole," You whispered.

"My love." He whispered back, leaning down and placing a kiss to your forehead.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for another heated kiss. You were angry, yes, but seeing him now made all of that fade away. Your ire could wait until the morning.

His lips were gentle and loving, and you were so happy that you had almost forgotten that he had been gone. He kneeled on the bed and pulled you close, his hands cupping your cheeks.

When he pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, smiling and breathing hard.

"I thought you left me," You admitted, your hands gripping his wrists, as though you could keep him there forever by holding on to him.

He hummed, his nose nuzzling against yours and you pressed yourself closer to him, trying to get as much contact as possible.

His large, warm hands moved down to the swell of your stomach. He placed his palms flat against the bump and leaned back, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Did the maesters tell you?" You asked, placing your hands over his.

He nodded, his eyes lifting up to meet yours. "How are you feeling?" He asked, with such gentle kindness that it made your heart melt.

"Big." You answered, laughing slightly. "I can't wear any of my old clothes, and I have to have new ones made all the time. And the way the ladies look at me when I go out..."

He shook his head, a breathy laugh escaping him, his thumbs caressing your skin. It was true that you had changed since the wedding, your body swelling with his child. You were nervous about how he would react, but the softness in his eyes and the way he touched you told you otherwise.

"I wish I could have told you the news myself, it's a shame you had to hear it from some crusty old maester," you said.

"It is a wonderful thing to return home too," he smiled, leaning forward and pressing his lips against yours.

He kissed you deeply, his arms wrapping around your waist. You smiled into the kiss, your fingers weaving through his long, silver hair. You could feel his lips turn up against yours, and you both pulled away.

He looked at you for a moment, his eyes raking over your features, a smirk tugging at his lips. His hands trailed down your sides, sending a wave of heat through you.

"My prince," you said softly, your fingers brushing along his cheekbone. "We've already made a baby. You don't have to do this."

He laughed, and shook his head, a look in his eyes you couldn't decipher. "I forget just how innocent you are," he said, his hands trailing down to your thighs.

“Well, whose fault is that?” You teased, smiling up at your handsome husband.

You sucked in a breath as he leaned down, his lips trailing kisses along your neck, his teeth grazing over your skin.

"It's true, I've been away for too long, my lady wife has forgotten what it is I crave," he breathed against your skin, his lips finding yours once more.

Your hands slid down his shoulders and arms, feeling his muscles. He pulled back slightly and tugged off his shirt, letting it fall to the floor.

"You have gotten bigger as well," you said, running your hands across his chest, feeling the hard muscles.

He smirked, a cocky gleam in his eyes. "Oh?"

"It suits you," you said, a playful smile on your lips.

His hand came to rest on the side of your neck, his fingers caressing your jaw. His thumb brushed against your bottom lip and he leaned in, capturing your mouth with his.

"And you are more beautiful than the day we wed," he said, his voice husky.

"My prince flatters me." You breathed, a blush rising on your cheeks.

His eyes went to the ties on your nightdress, a row of pretty little bows that went down to the valley of your breasts. He tugged at one of the ribbons, the fabric becoming loose.

He pushed it aside and his hand moved up to caress your breast, his thumb rubbing your nipple, causing you to gasp.

"Still as sensitive." He said, a smirk on his lips.

He leaned down and took your other nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, before gently biting down. You tugged hard on his hair, your legs kicking and squirming as he continued to play with you.

"Daemon," you moaned.

He hummed, the vibration causing a wave of pleasure to wash over you. He let go of your nipple, and his mouth moved lower, placing hot kisses along your skin, his hand pushing up your night dress.

"Perhaps a bit more sensitive." He commented, his hand brushing along your thigh.

He hooked a finger into the waistband of your small clothes and pulled them off. You were now naked, your body on full display for him, and he leaned back and admired his work. His hand on the swell of your belly, his thumb tracing over a stretch mark.

"Beautiful." He said, a sincerity in his voice that made your heart skip a beat.

You looked away, suddenly shy. You had only spent one night with him, and now he was here again. His touch, his words, they all still had an affect on you, making your stomach flutter and heart race.

He leaned down, and pressed a kiss to your bump, his hand resting on the side of it, his lips trailing lower. You smiled softly, and ran your fingers through his hair, the silver strands smooth between your fingers.

His hand came to rest on your thighs, gently coaxing your legs open. You watched as he positioned himself between them, his head almost disappearing behind your bump.

His eyes flickered up to yours, and his smirk was all too knowing, causing you to blush and turn away. He leaned forward, his tongue darting out and licking up your slit.

You gasped, your grip on his hair tightening. He did it again, this time focusing his attention on that sensitive little spot he introduced to you on your wedding night. He placed a soft kiss on it, his tongue circling it.

"Dae-ah," you moaned, trying to muffle the sound by pressing a hand over your mouth.

You didn't know if it was the fact that you were pregnant, or maybe that you missed him more than anything, but everything felt different, his touch more intense.

His hands gripped the backs of your thighs, holding you down as his tongue licked and circled you. His mouth moved down and his tongue slid into you, making you arch and cry out. He lapped at your arousal, his tongue going in and out, the sounds he made, the hums and sighs, driving you wild.

He groaned, a sound that vibrated through your entire body, and his tongue went up, swirling around that little spot again, his mouth closing over it.

You moaned his name, your thighs squeezing him, your whole body trembling as your release washed over you.

He placed a few more kisses to the inside of your thighs before rising up, his hair messy and face glistening with you. He wiped his face with his arm and leaned down, his lips capturing yours.

You could taste yourself on him, and you kissed him hard, your hand tangling into his hair, the other reaching down to the ties of his trousers. He helped you undo them, and kicked off his pants.

His hard length sprung free, and you wrapped a hand around it, causing him to let out a shaky moan. He pressed his forehead against yours, his hand cupping your cheek, and his eyes locking onto yours.

You slowly started to stroke him, and he let out another moan, his eyes fluttering closed, his breath hot against your skin.

"My love," he groaned, his hips thrusting into your hand.

You loved the effect you had on him, the control you had. To have the prince of dragonstone, the most dangerous man in the realm, at the palm of your hand, made your heart flutter.

His hand found yours, and he guided it away from his length, a whine leaving your throat. He chuckled and gave you a quick kiss before positioning himself between your legs.

He slowly pushed himself in, causing you both to moan. It hurt a little, just like the first time, but his hands were on your thighs, his thumb caressing your skin, and he slowly pulled out and pushed back in, letting you adjust.

"My love, I'm not going to break," you said.

He smirked and gave a shallow thrust, a gasp leaving you.

"I can't be too careful with what is mine." He said, leaning down and giving you a heated kiss.

He pulled away and rested his forehead against yours, his hand sliding up the length of your leg, coming to rest on your bump, his other hand planted next to your head, holding himself up.

He started to move, his length slowly sliding in and out, the pace slow and gentle. You could feel every inch of him, rubbing against that perfect spot. A soft moan left you, and you reached out, your hands on his chest, feeling the hand planes of muscle underneath his skin.

His thumb caressed your belly, his eyes never leaving your face, studying every detail, memorizing each feature. You felt so exposed under his gaze and turned away, your cheeks flushed.

He smiled, a soft, loving smile, and kissed you.

"How I've missed you, my beautiful wife," he said, his voice thick with emotion.

You looked up at him, seeing nothing but love in his eyes. It was the way he had looked at you at your wedding, the two of you standing there in the sept, whispering promises to each other. The world had disappeared around you, and in that moment you were the only people that existed.

He kissed you again, and began moving a little faster, the sound of his hips meeting yours filling the room. He groaned, his hand still gently stroking your bump.

"I can't believe such a perfect creature could bear my child," he said, his eyes trailing down to where his hand rested.

"Our child," you corrected, giving him a teasing smile.

He hummed, leaning back and wrapping his arms around your waist and helping you into a sitting position. He pulled you onto his lap, and you moaned at the way he was buried deeper inside you.

His lips left open mouth kisses on your shoulders, and his hands rested on your hips, guiding you. You braced yourself on his shoulders, his hands back on your bump as you moved. You knew he liked the feel of it, and he couldn't get enough.

Your name left his lips as you bounced in his lap, his hands cupping your ass, squeezing you. You moaned, your hands sliding into his hair, tugging at the silver locks. You were growing louder, your body humming, that feeling building within you.

"Not too loud, my love," he whispered. "I do not wish for the guards to hear,"

A moan, that was halfway to a laugh escaped you, and he cut it off with a deep kiss. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, as you kept moving, the feeling of your release building.

"For your lovely sounds are only for me," he continued, his voice in your ear.

You let out another shaky moan, his hands squeezing you. He was moving his hips to meet yours, and you could feel him shaking beneath you. His hands gripped your hips tighter, and pulled you harder, his voice soft yet commanding as he talked you closer to your peak.

Your hands gripped his arms and back, and when he said your name, a deep, low groan that sounded almost pained, you toppled over the edge, falling in a pool of ecstasy. All the pent up emotions and frustration that you had been holding in were released, and you let go of a final moan that you muffle in the crook of his neck.

He followed soon after, capturing your lips in a heated kiss and letting out a deep, satisfied moan. You clung to him, afraid that he might disappear if you didn't. His arms were wrapped around your middle, cradling you close to him, his lips pressed to your temple.

The two of you breathed in each other's air, a simple shared breath, your foreheads pressed together, your eyes closed. You could feel his lips on your sweat slicked skin, his fingertips still caressing your bump.

When you both had returned to your senses, he gently laid you back on the bed. He leaned down, the tip of his nose nuzzling against yours, and peppered your face with little kisses. You smiled and let your eyes flutter open, finding him staring at you, a sweet, lovestruck look in his eye.

He grabbed the blanket, and covered your naked form with it, tucking it around you, almost protectively. He crawled under with you,his head resting against your chest, his hand still protectively cradling the swell of your stomach.

You wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and ran your fingers through his hair, smiling. He looked up at you, his eyes sleepy, and he pressed a kiss to your bump.

"I hope it's a boy," you said, continuing to stroke his hair. "With the most handsome features, and a true warrior, like his father."

"Mm," he hummed, his eyes closing, and his arms wrapping around your waist. "I hope it is a girl, a daughter that looks just like her mother."

He was silent for a moment, and you wondered if he had fallen asleep, when his eyes suddenly opened.

"Or perhaps both," he said, his voice serious, a glimmer of something in his eyes.

"Twins?" You laughed. "I don't think I could handle two little dragons running about."

He chuckled, his fingers drawing lazy circles on your skin. "I will be here to help you," he said, his eyes meeting yours. "I am not going anywhere."

"You better not," you warned, poking his chest. "You've kept me waiting long enough."

He laughed again and caught your wrist, bringing your finger to his lips and placing a gentle kiss there. He slid his arms back around you, and pulled you close, your foreheads touching, your noses brushing.

You were content, your heart filled with so much love for him, and as his breathing evened out and his eyelids drooped, you knew he felt the same. You drifted off to sleep, dreaming of what was to come. Of a big family, a happy life, and many more nights just like this one. 

[sunderwight]

Cumplane where Airplane, in a fit of either bravery or insanity or positive or negative self-esteem (he's not totally sure) decides to cosplay as Luo Binghe and post the pictures online.

Of course, he doesn't do it as "Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky", he knows he has some questionable fans and doesn't really want to hand them a picture of his face. So he posts the images under one of the pseudonyms he uses for lurking around the comment section and social media tags. It's just a handful of images of him looking like the protagonist in his head, attempting to strike cool poses in a wig and some period clothes (he rented both).

The reception is... mixed. Airplane does not have abs, after all, nor a flawless complexion or much skill with makeup. He is fat, freckled, and awkward. The PIDW readership is not known for being particularly supportive either. In fact they're mostly a crab bucket of negativity and masculine posturing, so he gets a lot of mean-spirited commentary.

It's fine. Nothing he hadn't expected. Really solidifies for him that posting was a fit of madness, actually! What did he even expect? He's bracing himself for the worst when he sees that Peerless Cucumber, notorious hate-reader and defender of Luo Binghe's honor, has commented. Ah, shit. He's probably going to rip into Airplane for daring to sully his precious Binghe's reputation by dressing up like that, isn't he?

The comment is long, too. Fuck. Airplane's not sure if his self-esteem can take a comprehensive beating from the champion hater himself, but he's too curious not to look.

Shen Yuan, in the meanwhile, is just pleased that there has FINALLY been a Luo Binghe cosplayer who looks the part. Of course Luo Binghe wouldn't have exaggerated muscles, those are just a product of dehydration. Binghe spent most of his disciple years running around chopping wood and hauling laundry, and then later doing whatever he could to pack on the calories in order to make it through the Abyss. A hefty workman's build would only make sense for him, anything else would be nonsense. Airplane also described Luo Binghe as having a beautiful face, which Shen Yuan won't blame most cosplayers for not being able to just make happen, but a beautiful face doesn't mean "covered in so much makeup it looks like an anime character"! When would Luo Binghe have the time or inclination to put on makeup? A natural beauty with some inevitable blemishes would make more sense and be much more appealing, and this "Airplane Crashing to the Ground" (funny play on the author's name, Shen Yuan approves) has very pretty features! Everyone hating on this cosplay is just an idiot, the only actual problem is that his wig is poorly fitted.

So in true Peerless Cucumber fashion, he lays this all out.

This gets him embroiled in arguments with several other fans, who even accuse him of actually being the guy in the photos, claiming that there's no other reason why he would defend them. Shen Yuan doesn't care if people think that's him, because that's still the best Luo Binghe cosplay he's ever seen, but he doesn't want them doubting the sincerity of his arguments. So, he decides that the only reasonable thing to do is dress himself up in cosplay as well and then post the actual photos of himself.

While he'd like to dress up as one of Luo Binghe's allies like Mobei Jun, or maybe someone cool like Yue Qingyuan, he is too pedantic to think he could pull that off. Those guys are all strong warrior types, and Shen Yuan is a scrawny pale rich kid who looks like he'd probably lose a fight with a wet paper towel. The only characters he could plausibly pull off would be some of the more consumptive members of Binghe's harem and maybe, maybe, one of the weaker villains like Shen Qingqiu.

Shen Yuan is NOT posting pictures of himself crossplaying to the central nexus of toxic masculinity itself, so... Shen Qingqiu it is!

Poor Airplane has to go sit and stare at a while for a while. Peerless Cucumber likes his cosplay. Peerless Cucumber, ardent defender of Shang Qinghua's sellout crappy main character mary-sue, thinks Airplane is good-looking enough to cosplay as him. And said so. Repeatedly. And then posted borderline thirst-trap villain cosplay of himself, inadvertently revealing in the process that he is hot.

What the. What. What?!

Anyway, Shen Yuan suggests that they attend the next convention both cosplaying together because Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky is supposed to be doing a meet & greet at that one, and wouldn't it be fun to go as a pair? And Airplane agrees before his brain catches up and he realizes that might present a problem.

[shellshocklove]

ridin' shotgun | joel miller

pairing/AU: joel miller x female!reader – post breakout & no ellie AU

summary: as the snow covers the land, joel starts to like his new life on the farm, but is it too good to be true?

warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni!!! canon-typical violence, age gap (reader is mid to late twenties), swearing, guns, vomit, use of pet names, fluff, angst, fingering, oral (f receiving), some tags are left out to avoid spoilers, no use of y/n

a/n: this is the second part to this. so i'd recommend reading that before this one. i'm very sorry this took me so long! i'm hoping it was worth the wait! <3 also a big thank you to @dustydaddyyy who's always up for helping me when i'm stuck <3 happy reading!

main masterlist / series masterlist / ao3 / playlist

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 this account stands with palestine. the creator of tlou is a zionist, and the second game is largly based on israel/palestine. please, everyone who interacts, educate yourself about the genocide happening right now, and support/donate.

“Morning, Joel,” Arthur greeted him as Joel entered the kitchen.

Joel felt far from rested. His eyes burned with sleep behind his eyelids. He’d love another hour or two on his pillow, but Arthur’s heavy steps coming down the stairs had woken him.

Damn, these thin walls.

“Mornin’,” Joel said as he sat down at the dining table, looking past the curtain on the portrait of the day. The world was blue with dusk, contrasting the low candlelight inside. Alma stood at the stove, butter crackling in the frying pan as she cracked an egg, then another, two suns in a greasy night sky.

“I think we’ll bring the logging sled today,” Arthur spoke up and gestured out the window, “I think the snow is more than deep enough for the sled.”

“Yeah?” Joel looked out the window again. Assessing the snow, he guessed it was about two feet give or take.

“Yeah, I think it’s gonna be enough– If not we’ll test-drive the sled, make sure it can handle the weight.” Arthur continued, but Joel lost interest as soon as he heard the sound of a door shutting down the hall.

Joel hummed, leaning back in his chair, his eyes flickering to the door of the kitchen waiting to see you walk through. A moment later, you padded into the kitchen in your pajamas, feet clad in soft wool socks. You’d thrown a sweater over your sleep shirt, but Joel remembered how the thin fabric had clung to your skin last night. Remembered the shape of your nipples poking through, the sounds you’d made as you’d whimpered his name. Joel’s cock twitched in his pants at the memory; crashing against the wave of shame and guilt that washed over him when he recalled what he’d done after he’d stepped back into his room.

“Good morning, sweetie,” Arthur greeted you as you sat down, opposite Joel.

“Good morning,” you smiled, resting your chin in the palm of your hand, tiredness like a faraway look across your face.

“Did you sleep well?” Arthur asked.

Your eyes widened at the question, quickly flickering to Joel before they found the table. Your face dug deeper into your hand as you twisted slightly in your chair. A shy smile blossomed across your face.

Huh.

A forgotten tickling feeling of pride filled Joel’s chest as he watched you. The way you avoided his gaze, like your dreams would show through your eyes if you did. But Joel didn’t need to hold your gaze to understand. Something had shifted, both for him and for you. It was different now.

A chuckle escaped Arthur at your motions, “That good, huh?” Arthur teased, “All fairytales and rainbows?”

“Something like that,” you breathed out a chuckle.

Joel cringed. He was closer to a nightmare. Why did he even entertain his thoughts of you? You were the one who was a rainbow, while he’d paint you in a dull grayscale.

Joel let out an inaudible sight, and leaned back in the creaky kitchen chair, as his hands twisted in his lap. He didn’t miss the way his movement caught your eye as he felt the drumroll of your gaze break over him. Joel didn’t dare move, scared he’d scare the warmth of your attention away. But something pulled at his chest, and he couldn’t deny himself to look at you, to drink in your early morning shyness. You didn’t look away this time, instead you smiled. It was a small and polite smile, but it still felt like a kiss to his skin. The small moment between you only lasted a second, but to Joel it felt like an eternity – one he wouldn’t mind spending with you.

You dropped your gaze when Alma placed the breadbasket on the table, and like it had broken a spell, you immediately stood to your feet, “Let me help you, Alma.”

A moment later the table was set and ready, and Arthur was already helping himself to a fried egg. Safe for the sound of cutlery against porcelain plates, a silence fell over the kitchen.

“We uh,” Arthur started, looking over at you, “We were thinking of using the logging sled today,” he informed with a dig into his eggs. “'Could use your help saddling up the horse.”

“Okay,” you nodded, reaching across the table for the butter, “but I need to milk the cows first– you know how they get if I don’t do it first thing–”

“I can do that, sweetie,” Alma interrupted you with a smile, taking a bite of her bread.

“Oh, okay,” you turned your head to Alma as you said it, giving her a smile, but Joel could see the worry behind it. “But if it’s too much I’ll be right there–”

Alma cut you off again, “I can handle it– I did this all by myself before you came along, you know.” She said it with a wink to put you at ease, but Joel saw how your teeth dug into your bottom lip, and he wanted nothing more than to ease it away with a kiss.

No. No kiss.

Shit.

After last night, Joel couldn’t think straight. He wanted you now. He wanted what he knew he couldn’t have– what he shouldn’t have. With his eyes boring down into his plate, he tried to will his wants away. Tried his best to not build memories on things not yet said – to not feel the ache of never having touched you.

The air nipped harshly at Joel’s cheeks. The sun had finally risen over the mountain, shining its light over the crystals in the snow. A thousand diamonds blinked at him as he helped Arthur pull the log sled out of the barn. It was covered in dust and dirt, and the cobwebs stuck to Joel’s mittens like cling film. Clapping his hands, a cloud of dust evaporated from his hands – almost cartoon-like.

Joel picked at the yarn, trying to cover the hole that had become wider and wider every day. He felt bad about it; you’d made them for him out of the goodness of your heart, and now he’d ruined them– or the work had. Sharp branches had hooked themselves through the stiches, and the rough bark had worn the yarn down.

As Arthur checked the sled, and got it ready, Joel felt himself drawn to the open stable door. Leaning against the barn door he watched you quietly. You worked with practiced hands, saddling the old workhorse, Ingydar, as you talked to it in a low voice.

“You’re going to work in the woods today,” you said to the beloved nag, “Work in the woods with Arthur and Joel. Do you remember Joel? He’s a nice man, isn’t he?”

Joel felt his cheeks warm at your words, his eyes falling to the worn wood floor, as he continued to listen to your little conversation.

“Yes, he is! He’s very nice– fed you too many carrots last time he said hello, didn’t he? But you liked that, didn’t you?”

Joel looked up at that, his eyes locking with yours’ as you looked straight at him, a teasing smirk covering your face.

“That ain’t how I remember it,” Joel defended, stepping closer to the open stall door. You tightened the straps on the saddle while your smile grew larger at his words.

“No?” You teased, moving on to checking the straps on the bridle.

Joel stepped closer, his mitten clad hand coming up to pet the old horse. “No,” Joel shook his head, “you kept handin’ me all those carrots ‘s how I remember it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you laughed, stepping closer.

“Sure, you don’t,” Joel teased, a rare smile tugging at his lips, matching your own.

Locking eyes with you again, Joel felt something light bubble under the surface of his ribcage. You really were beautiful like this – eyes sparkling and smile wide. He couldn’t remember the last time someone looked at him the way you were right now – like he hadn’t lost everything, like he didn’t have blood all over his hands, like he was worthy of a smile.

Stepping even closer, you noticed the holes in them. “Joel, your mittens.”

“Sorry…” he started, trailing off when you grabbed his hands, “They get hooked in the branches ‘nd–”

“Don’t apologize,” you cut him off, with a shake of your head, “I can fix them– it’s no problem.”

The sun shone through a small window in the back wall of the stall. Bright white light lit up the back of your head, crowning you in the morning. You stood so close now, the warmth of your finger brushing over his rough skin through the hole, and his hands suddenly felt heavy in yours.

A burden you shouldn’t bear.

“Uh…” Joel cleared his throat as he stepped away, pulling his hands from yours, “Thank you.”

Finishing up saddling the horse you led it out the stall door, the iron shoes click-clacked against the worn wood floor before it fell silent against the snow when you led the horse outside. With a nod in the direction of the house you told him to wait inside for you.

“Would ya let Arthur know he can go right ahead with the sled?” he asked you, his body half-turned towards the barn house.

You let out a breathy laugh, a frosty cloud of smoke clouding your smile before you nodded.

Inside, he waited for you on the couch, watching you wave Arthur off on the horse through the window. Joel’s heart picked up its beat when he heard your hollow steps across the porch. He shifted slightly in his seat when you walked in, almost standing but then decided against it in the same moment, rubbing his hands over his thighs instead.

Stomping off the snow covering your shoes you smiled at him like always, and Joel didn’t know what to do. A feeling starting to bubble under the surface of his skin. Excitement? Nervousness? Dread? Joel couldn’t tell. Maybe he felt all three at once– if that was possible. Excitement at the prospect of being alone with you, but also nervousness at the prospect of being alone with you. They gathered around his heart, filled his chest, but the dread, it climbed up his spine, bit its cold teeth in the back of his neck.

“Just let me grab my things,” you hurried with a gesture towards your room.

Joel cleared his throat and nodded. It felt clumsy and awkward, and he cursed himself for it while he waited for you. He couldn’t be alone with you. Couldn’t entertain the growing feelings. It wasn’t right – to you – Joel needed to stay away, to keep a friendly distance.

Joel sighed and closed his eyes.

Nothin’s happenin’. 

Like a broken record, those two words spun in Joel’s head in the few seconds it took before you were back in the living room, dropping down next to him with your basket overflowing with yarn.

It felt like déjà vu.

You worked in a comfortable silence, and Joel didn’t know if he should say anything. He watched how you worked your needle with a practiced hand – you made it look so easy – but Joel knew it wasn’t. A lifetime ago he’d spent way too many nights with a needle in his hand trying to mend a hole over the knee of tiny pink pants, his stubby fingers gripping the needle tightly, guiding it clumsily through the fabric until he was red in the face from frustration.

He needed to thank you, but should he say it now or wait until you’d finished? The longer he watched you, the stronger that bubbling feeling felt, bubbling over, up his throat and over the bite of dread.

“There!” you smiled when you’d fastened off the last stich. You grabbed a hold of his hands before he’d had time to think and pulled the mittens over his knuckles.

“Thank you,” he said, voice scruff but tone still shyer than he’d expected.

You smiled at him again and leaned a little closer to readjust the mittens, tugging at the yarn where you’d mended them, pulling them into the right shape.

“You’re welcome, Joel.” You locked eyes with him and suddenly Joel noticed how close you sat. It made him hold his breath as his heart started hammering against his chest.

His gaze flickered towards your lips for half a second, wishing for something he couldn’t have– shouldn’t have. He caught himself quickly, finding your eyes again but they were fixated on something else, his lips. Who leaned in first, Joel would never know, the only thing he knew was the feel of your breath against his lips before they brushed over yours in a soft kiss.

Warm. Joel felt so warm.

His hands worked by their own volition; mitten clad, and soft against your cheek, pulling you closer to him, but not close enough. Your hand grabbed at his jacket in the crook of his elbow, tethering yourself to him, to the moment, like you’d float away if you didn’t. You hummed against his lips, a desperate sound as you shifted closer.

The sound messed with Joel’s head, he wanted to hear more of it, pull it from you again. His tongue teased at the seam of your lips, a distant thought at the back of his head questioning where his boldness suddenly came from, but he ignored it.

It didn’t matter.

The sound escaped you once more and you opened yourself up to him. Joel’s other hand, moving with desperate urgency, found your hip – pulling you even closer. He licked into your mouth, and he fell deeper into you, deeper into the grip you’d snaked around his heart.

A loud slam of the kitchen door pulled Joel away, and the reality of what he’d done trickled coldly down his spine. Out in the kitchen Alma rummaged around while you looked at him with bright eyes, pupils slightly dilated with a hazy smile across your lips.

Joel felt awful.

He shouldn’t have done that.

He’d taken advantage of you. He’s too old for you – none of this was right.

You noticed the change in him, you must’ve, because your eyebrows pulled together in the smallest of frowns as you regarded him.

“Joel,” you started, your voice low and soft, but he just shook his head.

“I’m sorry!” Joel quickly stood to his feet, wiping his hands on his jeans as though that would somehow erase what he’d done. “We– I shouldn’t have done that– I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” you tried to grab at his hand, but Joel only shook his head again.

“I’m sorry.”

Joel was out the door before he could regret it, lord knows he couldn’t take anymore regret. His life had been full of them, full of ‘I shouldn’t haves’. He dug his mitten-clad hands in the pockets of his jacket, his head hanging low as he headed down the road towards the forest.

A heavy blanket of clouds had shaded the morning sun, the world darkened in the beginnings of real winter. As a snowflake kissed his cheek, his thoughts wandered to the butterfly he’d seen all those weeks ago. How it had rested over his knee– made him think of Sarah.

You’re on the right path.

Joel had never felt this lost.

The kiss.

It took up most of Joel’s mind. When he worked himself hard with an axe in his hand, when he was counting sheep, but most of all, each time he saw you. Then his thoughts had a mind of its own, reminding him of how your lips had felt against his own, the feel of your body under his touch, and the sounds you’d made just for him. The kiss had been the first kiss who’d made him want another. The first kiss where he’d pulled away and not been satisfied. He needed to kiss you again, to feed this new hunger for you.

But it wasn’t right. An old man like him with someone like you. It wasn’t a good idea– would never be a good idea.

So, Joel tried his best to avoid you, but avoiding you was impossible – you lived in the same house, shared a bedroom wall. He saw you every day whether he liked it or not – and he did.

He liked you, and it scared the shit out of him.

He felt like he lived in a cruel state of limbo. He didn’t know what you were thinking. If you were mad (you had every right), if you were disappointed (he hoped you weren’t), or happy (maybe the most devastating thought of all).

The fire crackled loudly, sparks kicking, the sound making you look up from your book. Joel’s eyes found his own book, rereading the same paragraph he’d been trying to read for the last thirty minutes– ever since Arthur and Alma had retired to bed. This was the first time he’d been alone with you since the kiss, and he felt it all over his body. The aftermath of the kiss sticking to his body like the Austin heat had done in the peak of summer – he couldn’t shake it off, couldn’t ignore it.

“When was the last time you cut your hair?” you suddenly spoke across the silence.

Your question was unexpected, and it made him pull his brows together in a frown. “You sayin’ I look bad?” Joel asked, dogearing the page he was on before closing his book.

“No,” you said quickly, shaking your head, “No-no, I mean it’s just a little long.”

Joel looked at you for a second before he ran a hand through his hair. Well, it wasn’t like you weren’t right. Lately his hair had started to get in his eyes, even when he pushed it back. Most days when he was working outside, he could tame it under the knitted beanie you’d made him, but it had started to have a life of its own.

“Boston. I think, Tes–” he cut himself off before he said her name, clearing his throat awkwardly to cover his slip up. He’d forgotten, forgotten for a second that she was dead. Forgotten she’d died for him and his stupid quest to find his brother. Died for nothing.

“I can trim it for you… if you want?” you asked with a bite of your lip.

He couldn’t say no to you.

“Uh… yeah,” he nodded, “Okay.”

As you led him up the stairs to the bathroom, Joel tried not to think too hard about what it would mean – you cutting his hair. He tried not to think about how the last person who’d done something like that for him was Tess, and what it meant that she was gone– that it now would be you.

Your fingers running through his wet hair felt good– what didn’t feel good was the way his back almost gave out from leaning his head in the bathroom sink. The basin was too small, and the tap hung too low for him to comfortably turn his head, instead the water spilled down his face.

Why the hell was he drowning himself for you?

“Done soon?” he grunted, his hands gripping the sides of the sink while he felt your fingers scrub at his roots.

Yes, Joel was uncomfortable, but the way you stood so close – practically leaning on him – it felt nice. So nice that Joel thought that if his eyes weren’t already shut, they’d flutter shut at your touch.

Soap suds ran down the sides of his face as you giggled, “Just a little longer.”

You maneuvered his head back under the tap, your right hand running through his hair under the water while the left covered his eyes in a useless attempt. Then you grabbed the towel resting next to him on the porcelain, the world suddenly silenced through fabric as you dried his now clean hair.

“You can stand now,” you told him with a small tap to his back as you stepped away. You’d laid the towel around his shoulders, ready to catch any excess water.

Joel groaned, “I don’t think I can.”

You giggled again and then your hands wrapped around him, helping him up. Joel groaned again, but this time for show. He liked the way you touched him, gentle – always gentle. He plopped down in the chair you’d brought in from the spare bedroom, while you got your comb and scissors ready. The wooden chair creaked as he shifted his legs, widening them while he rested his hands in his lap.

He’d never seen this chair before, but then again Joel hadn’t explored the house much – it didn’t feel right. He was a guest after all, only staying for a few months– or was he? His eyes found you in the mirror, and then that thought suddenly felt awfully wrong.

“Ready?” you turned around to him, a pair of kitchen scissors in one hand, and an old shaver plugged into the wall in the other.

You didn’t say much as you worked. It was uncharacteristic for a hairdresser, at least from what he could remember. Back before the outbreak he’d rarely gotten his hair cut by someone other than himself. With his clipper guard set to four he’d tidy up the sides when it was needed and called it a day.

Your quietness was also uncharacteristic to you. You never talked his ear off, but you were never this quiet – at least you weren’t before the–

Stop.

Joel tried not to think about that.

He’d gone and fucked everything up now. Instead, he stole a glance at you in the mirror, watched the way your lips pursed in concentration to the metal sound of scissors snipping, and the low buzz of the shaver.

He needed to apologize to you.

“I…” he started, watching your head snap curiously to watch him in the mirror.

No turning back now– just say it.

“I’m sorry ‘bout the other day– It wasn’t right to kiss you like that.”

Your curiosity pulled into confusion across your face, and your eyebrows tugged together in a frown.

“You don’t have to be sorry, Joel,” you told him, your voice gentle, “I didn’t exactly–... well I definitely wasn’t stopping you.” You said it with an awkward laugh. Your kind, always kind, eyes that’d watched him in the mirror, now glued to the back of his head as you gently combed his hair.

Joel felt something bloom in his chest at your words, and despite himself, he felt his cheeks warm slightly as thoughts invaded his mind. 

Maybe he should tell you why he did it. 

Shit, did Joel even know why he did it? 

“I thought you–” Joel felt the words stall in his throat for a second, before he cleared it decisively. 

No going back now, he thought to himself, just rip off the band aid you idiot.

Another part of Joel screamed at him to stop the words before they even left his lips, and his doubts gnawed at his insides with more intensity than ever.

“The other night, when you were asleep,” he paused to swallow, a lump growing in his throat, “I was getting to bed and I heard–... well, y’were sort of having a dream, sweetheart.”

With nervous eyes, Joel found your face in the mirror, and watched the way the smiling expression dropped off your face, quickly replaced by a wide-eyed look of pure mortification. 

“I–” you stuttered out, and Joel rushed to correct himself. 

“It’s nothin’ to be embarrassed about, I shouldn’t a been watchin’ you, I just–... thought maybe y’liked me, or something.” 

His words hung heavy in the air between you, and Joel’s heart picked up its beat as he watched how all your movements suddenly went quiet, along with the shaver, seemingly processing all this new information.

Your eyes found the back of his head again, and when he felt the comb run through his hair again, Joel suddenly felt very guilty for even bringing it up. 

Stupid. Why on earth would he do that? Was he trying to send you into an early grave? 

“I’m sorry you walked in on that,” you finally managed, your eyes fixated on your working hands as you refused to meet Joel’s eye – looking infinitely embarrassed.

You’re sorry? He didn’t want to hear those words leave your mouth ever again – the only person in this bathroom who was sorry, was him.

In the mirror you looked so small, and it was his own doing. Your teeth dug harshly into your bottom lip as your combed, and combed, and combed his hair in a shaky hand. Joel felt his heart break.

He’d dug himself too deep now, Joel thought, he had to tell you, to reassure you it was okay.

After a beat of silence, Joel spoke again.

“I’m not.” 

Your eyes widened at his words before they snapped to the mirror, staring at him as the shears trembled slightly in your hand. Still, you didn’t say anything.

Joel didn’t have the faintest idea where he was going with this, and with the way you looked at him now, his doubts seemed to overtake him as he got the sudden urge to swallow his words right back up. 

“Look, forget I even said anything angel, I didn’t mean anythin’ by it–” 

The word slipped from his lips like the most natural thing in the world. Something flashed in your eyes through the mirror, he could’ve sworn it, and Joel seemed to realize a beat too late what he’d called you. Feeling his cheeks heat up, his embarrassment forced his gaze to fall anywhere but at you, quicklyfinding his hands knotted in his lap.

“Joel,” you said softly, and despite himself, Joel felt the earlier warmth expanding like a balloon in his chest, “It’s okay.” 

He perked up at your words, his eyes snapping from his hands to you as you moved, coming to stand in front of him. Your hands deftly moved the comb through his curls as he looked up at you through the strands. You seemed focused on cutting the ends, before you let out a breath. 

“It would’ve been okay if you had been watching, you know,” you said, your voice simple and even.

Joel felt his entire body tense at your words as his eyes bored into your face. He watched the way your face grimaced slightly; your eyes focused on snipping the strands right.

“I just mean I–” There was a pause as you gave him a half-embarrassed smile, your lips pursed together as you seemed to search for your next words. 

You were standing so close, so close he could smell the sweetness off you. You made him dizzy. Dizzy with warmth. Dizzy with proximity. Dizzy with something heavy in the depths of his chest he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Joel didn’t know why he did it, didn’t know why the way his hands moved felt like second nature, but when the tips of his fingers grazed the back of your knee in an attempt to reassure you, it felt like something was calling to him.

“It’s okay,” he told you, “You can tell me, angel.” 

Finally, your eyes met Joel’s. Those kind sparkling eyes bored into his own as you, in an attempt to gather some courage, swallowed hard.

“I–I do like you,” you said.

The finality of your words lodged something loose in Joel, and something he hadn’t felt in a long time flicker to life in his chest.

“That so?” he asked, his voice a little lower.

Somehow, you were stood even closer, only slightly taller than Joel as he angled his head up towards you. Your chest started to rise and fall in a quicker rhythm at his question. Looking at him, your lips twitched in a nervous smile as you turned slightly away from his, placing the comb and scissors on the sink gently.

You nodded.

Still turned away from him, he watched how you gathered yourself, your hands resting on the porcelain as your head hung low between your shoulder blades.

“When you…” you trailed off, moving the comb and scissors in a perfect parallel line next to each other. “When you,” you repeated, “kissed me… I thought maybe… you liked me back.”

It was now or never.

Joel knew it.

Standing from his chair, Joel’s hand found your shoulder, turning you to face him. You didn’t look at him right away, your head tipped in a bow as you fiddled with your fingers.

“Hey,” his fingers brushed lightly under your chin, tilting your head up. Your eyes were wide, flickering like sunlight over wavy water as you studied his face. His eyes fell to your lips – he couldn’t help it, and the memories of how they’d felt against him resurfaced in his mind. If he just leaned a little closer, he’d feel them again.

“Joel… if you don’t want me– if you don’t like me, you can just tell me– I’m a big girl.” Your voice sounded almost breathless, like you’d run up a flight of stairs or walked miles in knee deep snow.

Joel shook his head before you’d even finished your sentence. Don’t want you? Don’t like you? It was absurd.

“It ain’t that.”

“Then what is it?” The way the words left your lips, broken, beaten, it had Joel’s heart tear apart in his chest.

“It ain’t right, angel. I’m too old f’you– I can’t take advantage of you like that.”

A frown pulled at your face then, “Take advantage?” you questioned with a shake of your head. “I’m a grown woman, Joel. Would it be taking advantage if it was what I wanted? If what I wanted was… you?”

Joel had never thought about it like that before. The thought of you wanting him back had seemed like a fantasy – something that would never even be a possibility.

Your fingers moved a strand of hair out of his face, brushing it away, and Joel held his breath. Hesitating for just a second, you cupped his cheek gently and leaned closer. The softness of your lips over his own had Joel reeling – didn’t matter how quick or chaste the kiss had been – it only left him wanting more.

“I look stupid.”

“You don’t look stupid, Joel,” you laughed, full of joy.

You adjusted the bandana holder and fixed the crooked kerchief around his neck slightly. The red fabric picked up the warmth in his lined leather jacket, and the metal holder caught the shine of the sun.

Joel couldn’t believe he’d said yes.

This morning when he’d gotten up with the sun, Alma had stuck her head out of her and Arthur’s bedroom right as he was on his way out the bathroom. Arthur wasn’t feeling well, and Joel had prepared himself to work in the woods alone. It wasn’t the first time Arthur had gotten sick, and with the way he was looking lately, Joel figured it wouldn’t be the last.

He'd been washing his dishes from his breakfast when you’d padded into the kitchen. With a look over his shoulder, he’d caught the way you’d smiled at him before you padded over to him.

“Good morning,” you’d said and wrapped your arms around him from behind.

“Mornin’, angel,” he’d hummed back. He’d dried his plate and placed it on the counter before he’d turned around, still in your embrace.

Joel wasn’t used to it yet, your affection, he still had a hard time comprehending it was meant for him. That it wasn’t some joke you’d so cruelly played on him. A joke to see how long you could feed him this adoration until he’d get hooked on it, hooked on you, before pulling away.

Joel didn’t dare hold you too tightly. Everyone he’s ever held in his arms had been pulled away by death’s hands. Every day since you’d told him you liked him, wanted him, Joel had been afraid to lose you.

Maybe that’s why he’d said yes? You’d convinced him it’ll be safer for you if you knew how to shoot.

Joel didn’t know.

The only thing he knew was that he’d caved under your wide and blinking eyes. You’d looked too cute to say no, and he disliked seeing a frown upon your lips, unless he could kiss it away.

Which he did – but only when you were alone.

You’d both agreed to keep this thing, the fondness, the love, growing between you a secret. It was easier that way, at least until you both knew what it all meant. Right now, it was a thing, a fondness, but not yet a love, although Joel wasn’t far off if he were being honest with himself, especially when you looked at him with those moony eyes.

With a pat to his chest, you pushed off him with a smile. In a closet upstairs you’d found you both a cowboy hat and some bandanas you’d insisted on him wearing. The whole thing was silly, but the way you’d lit up with happiness when you’d placed the cowboy hat on his head, it didn’t matter to Joel.

“C'mon cowboy,” you laughed, and grabbed his hand.

He let you drag him with you before he caught up with you. He pulled at your arm so you crashed into his side, and wrapped his arm around your shoulder. It made you giggle, and the sound bubbled around Joel’s heart.

Ingydar stood waiting dutifully in his stall, where you’d gotten him ready. The saddle bags were packed with your lunches and a box of ammunition, and at the back of the saddle you’d rolled two sheep skins and tied them with leather ties. Everything was ready for your day out together.

Or your date, Joel thought as he trailed after you, closing the stable door behind him as you led the horse outside.

Joel insisted you get on the horse first with his help. He wanted to make sure you were comfortable and sat as safely as possible before he slid his foot into the stirrups. You wiggled around to mess with him, and Joel grabbed your knee to steady you. It made you giggle again, and he earned himself a ‘Relax, honey’. Then you leaned back and made space for him to get in front of you.

Joel liked the sound of ‘honey’.

“Y’alright back there?” Joel said over his shoulder after he’d gotten on the horse. Placing the shotgun over his lap, Joel made sure the safety was on before his hands came down to take yours where they rested over your thighs, and gently guided them to slot around his waist.

“Y’actually gotta hang on sweetheart, or you’ll slide right off the minute he starts trotting,” Joel said, fighting back a smile when he felt your arms tighten around him.

“I know how to ride a horse,” you retorted, and his chest shook with a slight chuckle. 

“Not saying you don’t, angel,” he replied easily, and kicked Ingydar lightly in the sides.

The old horse started walking, and Joel pulled on the reins, steering it down the road and then south towards the woods.

“’Just makin’ sure you ain’t gonna fall off ‘s all,” he said.

You hummed in return, leaning your body against his back. “It’ll have to be a really bumpy ride for me to fall off, Joel,” you spoke, the innuendo not lost on Joel.

He decided to pull at the thread a little, “And I s’pose you’ve had a lot of these bumpy rides, have you, angel?”

Your hands around his waist tightened slightly as he felt you lean over his shoulder, your hat dumping into his. A smile tugged at his lips, and in his side vision he could see you narrow your eyes playfully at him. 

“What are you insinuating, Joel Miller?” you asked him, your tone only half-sharp.

A chuckle rumbled in Joel’s chest, before he bit back a smirk. “I’m not insinuatin’ nothin’,” he replied, keeping his tone as normal as he could.

He felt your eyes study him for a moment before he heard you let out a dissatisfied hum. “You definitely are.” 

“Well, we got an entire horse ride to god knows where to debate it,” he shot back, which made you smile.

You leaned back again, and a second later he felt you rest your forehead against his back. Joel figured you must’ve flicked your hat off; letting it rest against your back tied by the string around your neck.

“An entire horse ride to god knows where?” you repeated half-mockingly, speaking into his back but Joel could hear your smile in your voice, “You really know how to make a girl wait for it.”  

“You have no idea, angel,” Joel replied, an otherwise joking tone overshadowed by something else, something more honest.

Behind him, Joel felt you shift, and a small spark of pride filled his chest. He had an effect on you, the same way you had an effect on him. Quickly, you changed the subject, and that spark of pride grew larger in Joel’s chest.

“Did you have a plan, by the way?” you asked him, your voice light and innocent, “Or are we just riding this horse off into the sunset?” 

“It’s the middle of the day,” Joel pointed out, “And you’re the one who put me in a bandana, so don’t even bother tellin’ me you ain’t the one with the plan.” 

You let out a giggle at this and pressed your face into his back once more. “Just keep going straight for now, you bore, I’ll tell you when.” 

Joel chuckled at you, and did as you said, guiding the horse south at the edge of the forest where the snow wasn’t as deep. He felt you tighten your hands slightly around his waist, before you fell into a comfortable silence.  

The horse held a steady pace, rocking you in a soothing rhythm in the saddle. The day was bright and sunny, almost blinding against the snow. Joel had never gone down this way before, never seen the stone face of the mountain up close, the way it cried glittery winter tears when the sun shone.

“There’s a river down here somewhere,” you suddenly spoke, breaking the silence that had built between you. “There’s a nice little spot down there where we can camp.”

Joel pulled at the reins, following in the direction you’d pointed. “You���ve been down this way before?” he asked.

“Maybe once or twice a year,” you started, “There’s this town, Jackson, maybe a week’s ride south. I’m not exactly supposed to talk about it– they run a pretty tight ship, coming off a little more threatening than they are, but they’re sort of like a commune. Arthur has this deal with one of the ladies, Maria, where we help each other out by trading.”

A frown pulled at Joel’s face, “I thought y’all were all alone out here?” 

“Well, we are, but not really. It’s because of them we still have running water and electricity– we’re connected to the same system they use. And then usually in the fall or in the spring Arthur will go trade with them for things we need like soap, or nails and stuff we can’t make on our own at the farm.”

Joel hummed, and the puzzle pieces of information you’d given him, started to fit into the bigger picture he’d painted of your life at the farm. He could understand why Alma and Arthur still resided at the farm. It was their home, the place where they’d lived their whole life, but for you, for you it was different.

“So… you know ‘em? You’ve gone with Arthur to meet this Maria?” he asked.

“A little, I guess. She’s uh…” you trailed off, resting your cheek against Joel’s back instead.

The river finally came into view, and Joel let you have the silence. He guided Ingydar down towards the riverbank. A wound cut the ice in two where the river poured backwards eternally. The water clucked under the ice as you rode along the edge; was it wishful thinking to think it sounded like the coming of spring?

“She?” Joel prodded gently.

Joel heard you sight before you sat up, no longer leaning your weight on him. “She invited me to come live with them… in Jackson.”

Joel frowned, “’nd you told her no?”

“Well… yes– I just, I can’t leave them alone.”

“Sweetheart–” Joel started, but you cut him off.

“Let’s stop here!”

You didn’t say anything as Joel watched you loosen the saddle bags and sheep skins, while he petted the old horse. He found himself wondering how you’d ended up on the farm, and if you could’ve been happier somewhere else– like Jackson.

He tied Ingydar to a tree, before he waded back to where you were trampling the snow flat. He helped you form a bench out of the snow, cutting through the layers until you found a hard enough crust to hold both your weights. The sheepskin warmed under him, as he sat down with a groan. It made you turn around from where you sat on your haunches in front of the fire you were building, a teasing smile pulling at the corner of your mouth.

“Tired already, old man?” you teased as you stood to your feet and walked closer.

Spreading his legs, Joel made room for you to stand between them, as he tipped his head back to study you above him. Your smile was dangerous, wild and wonderful.

“Old man, huh?” He raised an eyebrow at you, not able to resist the urge to wrap his hand around the back of your knee.

Your teeth caught on your bottom lip at his touch, and a pride swelled inside Joel. Pride at pulling a reaction from you. Before you could answer him, a boldness took a hold of him, and he wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you down into his lap.

You yelped out a giggle and your hands came down to brace yourself against his shoulder. Joel felt a feeling overcome him; one he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Happiness.

It tickled at his heart, teared at something inside, and it scared him.

“You okay?” you asked, your voice coated in concern, and Joel felt his cheeks heat up. He let out a dry chuckle, embarrassed by how easily you could read him.

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat, “I just…” he trailed off, studying your face and watching how your eyebrows pulled together in the smallest of frowns.

He shook his head again, before he leaned forward, not thinking it through as he brushed his lips over yours in a kiss. You reciprocated the kiss immediately, although maybe a little caught off guard. Joel’s arm around your waist tightened, as his other hand brushed up your side. He needed to hold you close for just a second, just to know this was real, that this feeling was real, and that you were real.

You broke away first, breathless with a giggle before you dove down again for another peck. Joel let you kiss him; let you cup his cheek and bring him closer. You shifted in his lap, your core rubbing slightly over his crotch. It could’ve been an accident, but the small gasp you let out told him it wasn’t. His arm around your waist tightened, and he had to pull away.

Wide eyes looked back at him, and Joel couldn’t help but stare at your lips. He felt like a teenager, a teenager sneaking out the house to meet a girl. To finally be with you without the secrecy – to touch you and kiss you openly.

“You’re somethin’ else, aren’t you?” he whispered.

A smile teased at your lips before you leaned in closer, your breath brushing over his ear, “You have no idea.”

Blood coursed south, and Joel felt his cock come alive behind the confinements of his jeans. It was cold enough for a man to freeze his balls off, but desire’s warmth filled him anyway.

He pulled his head away, finding your eyes blown full of lust. A smile teased at the corner of his mouth as he spoke, “Let’me teach ya to shoot before you get too excited.”

“Before I get too excited?” you laughed, and sat up properly in his lap again, “I think that might be you, old man.”

Teaching you to shoot was less of a success than Joel had intended. He’d found a couple of old glass bottles in the barn to use as target practice, but your aim was terrible, missing each shot. To your credit, it wasn’t your fault. He’d taught you how to load the gun, how to stand safely, and with his hand snaking around your body, how to hold it properly.

He could swear his intentions were good at first, he actually wanted to teach you, to make sure you knew how to shoot, and safely, but when he saw how your body shivered from his voice in your ear – he decided to play with you a little.

Maybe he whispered a couple of innuendos in your ear while he dropped his voice an octave just to see your reaction. Or maybe he pressed himself a little closer to your body, showing you how it was done like in those cliché romcoms he’d been forced to watch with Sarah.

It didn’t take long before the empty bottles, or the shot gun was forgotten, as you pressed your lips against his in a desperate kiss, your cold nose rubbing against his own.

But Joel didn’t have it in him to complain.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The sound at the door jolted Joel from his sleep. He’d almost been dragged under, laying in that limbo state between awake and asleep– not yet in dreamland, but not still among the living.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Joel sat up, letting the duvet fall into his lap and exposing his chest as the streak of yellow light coming through the ajar door cut his bedroom in two. Joel had to squint to see you properly in the doorway as he shed the last grip of sleep.

“Angel?” he questioned, as a tight grip of fear ran through him. He sat up properly now, ready to jump out of bed, his hands already searching for his shotgun resting at the foot of the bed.

With his eyes now fully adjusted to the dark, he watched how you quietly stepped inside his bedroom, closing the door as gently as you could – and the panic seemed to seize just a little. You padded to the edge of his bed, still so quiet, with your hands clasped nervously over where the hem of your sleep shirt met the bare of your thighs.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you whispered.

Joel shifted over slightly and lifted the duvet for you to slip under. An open invitation– one you were quick to accept.

“D’you have a nightmare?” Joel whispered, the wolf hour keeping his voice down.  

You shifted closer to him, your head rested on his pillow, and Joel couldn’t help himself from touching your waist gently – his fingers dancing over the soft cotton of your shirt.

“No,” you whispered back, “just couldn’t sleep.”

Joel hummed and shifted over onto his back, extending his arm for you to shift closer. It felt natural now – touching you. You felt like his, and he felt like yours. He didn’t know where it was going, but he was starting to enjoy the road to you. To get to know you more, what made you laugh, your quirks, and the way your body felt under his hands.

The weight of your head on his chest, Joel welcomed; his other hand quick to intertwine with the one you’d slung over his middle. He just wanted you close now, every chance he got.

“’Just try ‘nd get some sleep, my angel.” Joel pressed a kiss to the top of your head before he pulled back and closed his eyes. With you in his arms now, he knew he’d have no trouble falling back asleep.

“I–” you whispered.

Joel hummed; his eyes still closed.

“I kept thinking about you.”

Curiously Joel opened his eyes to find yours. You had tilted your head to look at him, you mouth slightly parted as you studied him with moony eyes. The way you looked at him stirred something inside him, a warmth pooling in the depth of his core.

“Yeah?” he questioned with a slight cock of his eyebrow, “’bout what?”

Then you got shy all of a sudden, hiding your head in his chest. “Thought about how you touched me,” you whispered.

“Touched ya how?” he prodded, gliding his hand up your arm slowly.

He knew it was wrong to play with you like this. Everything was still new, each touch unexplored and seeking. He couldn’t fuck you, even if he wanted to, and he did, badly, but Joel couldn’t risk it. Not in this world, not at this farm, it wasn’t fair to you.

Over him you held your breath as he teased your skin, eyes fluttering shut as his hand moved down the side of your body, and under the duvet.

“Like… like how you touched me in my dream,” you exhaled in a breathless voice.

Now Joel sucked in a breath, holding it in his lungs as he tried to calm himself down. He had an idea on how he’d touched you in your dream, but he couldn’t hold himself back from asking anyway.

“’nd where did I touch ya in your dream, angel.”

You squirmed against his body when his hand reached your bare thigh under the duvet, and soon your fingers locked around his wrist to guide it up over the soft skin of the inside of your thigh.

“Here,” you whispered.

A small gasp escaped you when he brushed his thumb gently over your clothed clit. Joel felt the wet warmth of you against the pad of his finger, making his cock twitch to life in his pajama pants.

“Here?” Joel whispered back, as his thumb started rubbing small circles over your clit.

“Y-yes.”

The noise you made, the noise he pulled from you from his small touch, sounded like the sweetest melody in Joel’s ear, and he wanted to hear it again. He ran his fingers through your cloth covered folds, and felt the wetness already seeped through.

Fuck.

“My angel… You’re so wet already,” he tutted, “Were you touchin’ yourself thinkin’ ‘bout me in that bed of yours?” he hummed in your ear.

A shiver ran through your body when his fingers found your clit again. Slowly, he started circling his fingers again, and the quiet moan that escaped you filled his chest with desire.

“Yes,” you breathed out, almost a whimper.

His teeth caught on his bottom lip, biting down to stave off the groan he wanted to let out at your words. He needed more of you, to feel the softness of you, to pull more of those breathy whimpers from your breath.

“Tell me, angel.”

In a bold move, Joel dipped his fingers into your panties, gliding two thick fingers through the seam of your folds, dipping into your arousal soiling your panties. His touch made you suck in a quick breath, as your eyes squeezed shut in pleasure. A proud grin spread across Joel’s face. It had been a while since he’d been with a woman, even longer since he’d been with a woman he felt something for.

He’d felt something for Tess, but that had been so complicated – it didn’t work right, they didn’t work right together as more than friends, like the puzzle pieces didn’t quite fit together. But the sex had been good, something to make them both forget for a little while.

Everything with you worked almost too easily, and Joel wanted to make you feel good, you deserved it, he thought.

“I-I,” you said breathlessly, as he worked his fingers slowly up and down from your hole to your clit, “I thought about your f-fingers.”

“Yeah, baby? Where?” He whispered in your ear before placing a kiss to the column of your neck. Joel was playing with you now, seeing how desperate he could get you before he tasted you.

“I-inside… I thought about your fingers inside me.”

Joel smiled into your neck. This felt as good a time as any to slip a finger inside you, so he did, slowly. You keened under his touch, and the sound of the small gasp you let out made Joel’s cock even harder.

“Like this baby?” he teased, pumping his finger slowly in and out of your wet warmth. He felt your hand wrap around his wrist, holding his arm, almost guiding him in his movements. He curled his finger inside you, trying to find that spongy spot inside that made you see stars.

“Y-yes, Joel–ah!”

There it was.

He liked the sound of his name falling from your lips like this, and he intended to hear it again. He couldn’t help but think about the way your cunt would squeeze around his cock, how tight you’d feel around him, as he continued to massage the spot with the pad of his finger.

“That feels good, doesn’t it?” he cooed, and placed a kiss to your cheek.

“Uh-uh,” you nodded, your eyebrows pulling together in a frown of pleasure, “Uh-uh.”

He felt your walls flutter around him, and Joel knew he had you just where he wanted you. Quickly, he pulled out his finger before slipping in a second. Your wetness dripped down his hand, coating him in your arousal with every pump of his fingers inside you.

Your breathing picked up, and small moans escaped you in time with the thrusting of his fingers. Joel had to contain himself from rubbing his bulge against your thigh, chasing any kind of relief.

This wasn’t about him, he told himself, he only wanted to make you feel good.

He knew you were close now, with just a flick of his thumb over your clit he’d have you coming on his hand – but Joel didn’t want it to be over yet. He needed to taste you, he’d thought about it as he’d jerked himself of, fantasized about how you’d taste on his tongue.

Suddenly, Joel pulled his finger out of your cunt. A strangled noise of, what Joel could only describe as disappointment, escaped your lips. It made Joel chuckle.

“Joel,” you whined, and squeezed your fingers around his wrist.

He didn’t answer, instead he sat up, a teasing smile coating his face as he shifted down the bed and pulled the duvet with him.

“Calm down, angel, be good f’me, okay?”

His hand wrapped around your calf to spread you apart for him, and he slotted between your legs. He placed a gentle kiss to your knee and let his eyes find yours where they looked back at him wide with anticipation.

“Are you gonna be good f’me?” he asked as he gave you another soft kiss, but this time to the inside of your thigh.

A breath escaped you in staccato, and you nodded, “Y-yes, Joel.”

“Good girl,” he rumbled, placing fluttering kisses up your thigh until he reached your core.

Joel didn’t want to waste any more time.

He stripped you out of your panties, and threw them to the side to get lost in the bedding. Finally, he got a good look at you, and fuck you were beautiful. Your cunt glistened with your wetness in the low white light of the moon coming through the window. Your hole pulsed when his thumb found your clit, where he pulling the hood back slightly as he teased you.

“Please,” you pleaded, your hand wrapping around his shoulder; searching for something to hold on to.

“It’s okay, angel,” he comforted you, as his finger spread your lips apart, and put you on display for him before he pinched them together. Under him you let out the smallest of whimpers as he played with you.

“I’m gonna put my mouth on you now, baby,” he told you, his finger back to circling your clit. “Gonna taste you pussy.”

His eyes flicked from your cunt to your face, searching for any indication that this wasn’t what you wanted. But Joel didn’t find any, your mouth had dropped open in the smallest of o’s, and your eyes were glazed over in lust.

“Please, Joel,” you begged, spreading your legs wider for him.

A grin spread across Joel’s face, and at last he finally closed the distance between his lips and your cunt, placing a kiss to your clit to start.

A hand found his head, as your fingers dug into his hair, which only made him smile wider. He dipped lower, flattening his tongue to taste you properly. You tasted so good, a sweet-salty taste he instantly craved more of. He licked a stripe from your clit to your hole, gathering up the arousal leaking from you, and hummed in contentment.

The fingers in his hair tightened their grip as he teased at your hole, pushing his tongue inside you a couple of times and earning himself the sweetest moans. Joel made sure to remember every twist of pleasure, and whiny moan.

He continued with a lick up the seam of your folds, which made your hips buck, chasing the swipes and zigzags of his tongue.

“That feel good, angel?” he prodded before latching onto your clit.

“Y-yes!” you gasped as he sucked and flicked his tongue.

The noises he pulled from you went straight to his hard cock. He could feel the precum leak from the tip and staining the fabric of his pajama pants. Shamelessly, he started bucking his hips against the bed.

He had to calm down, this wasn’t about him.

With a sudden move he pulled away, making a breathy whine escape you at the loss of his mouth. Joel sat up on his knees, before his hands found the back of your knees.

“Hold your legs f’me, angel,” he commanded, and pushed your legs up towards your chest. You did as he told you, and hooked your arms under your knees to put your cunt on full display for him.

“Fuck,” he breathed out, “so pretty f’me… so messy– listen.”

He ran a finger down your cunt to prove his point, a slick wet sound filling the air.

“Please, Joel,” you begged again, your voice broken with a breathless whine.

“Please what, angel?” he mocked, a spark of pride filling his chest as he watched you bite down on your lip.

“Please… make me come,” you whispered, and Joel thought he’d never heard anything sound so hot in his life.

He dove down again, consumed your cunt. His tongue lapped at your core, his finger teased your hole, pushing the pad just inside your opening; in and out, in and out. His lips found your clit again, where he flattened his tongue before drawing precise circles. Around his finger your cunt pulsed – you were close.

Joel never slowed down his tempo, determined now to make you come. He continued to lick and suck, thrusting his fingers inside you fully now as he pushed up against the spot he’d found earlier. Your breath picked up the pace, small breathy moans and whines escaping you in an increasing tempo.

“R-right there,” you heaved, your face scrunched together in pleasure. “D-don’t stop– I’m gonna c-come.”

Joel hummed against you, continuing his rhythm with his fingers and his tongue, coaxing you closer and closer to your orgasm. You started to mumble something, but Joel couldn’t hear it clearly between your heaving breaths.

He was determined now.

Curling his fingers again, your eyes snapped open, “Joel!”

Your cunt spasms around his fingers, and then you came around his fingers. Your eyes screwed shut as you moaned, as your body squirmed under him.

You looked so beautiful– you sounded so beautiful.

He continued to massage his fingers inside you, thrusting them slowly as you rode out your high. Making sure to drink in every sound, every squirm and twist of your pleasure as he watched you calm down.

When your breath had started to come back to normal, Joel pulled his fingers from your cunt. His fingers were coated in you, coated in your slick arousal and your cum. With a cheeky smile he brought his fingers to his mouth as he locked eyes with you and sucked them clean. The wide-eyed look on your face was the sweetest thing he’d seen.

“Joel,” you begged, your hand pulling him down over you.

He held himself up with a hand digging into your pillow, and he couldn’t help but smile as he looked down at you. He never wanted to forget the look on your face in this moment, never wanted to forget what you looked like glowing in a post-orgasm bliss.

Your hands cupped his cheek and pulled him down to your lips. The kiss was desperate, wet and messy, and it made Joel’s heart soar inside his chest. His cock was so hard. He could slip it inside you just for a moment, only the tip.

“Please,” you said breathlessly between kisses, “you can fuck me, Joel.”

No, not yet.

With a shake of his head, he came to his senses, “No, angel, this was just f’you.”

Your eyes widened with confusion; a slight frown pulled at your eyebrows as he pulled away. Joel bought himself some time by pulling you closer and wrapping an arm around you, careful not to press his hard cock into your ass.

“There ain’t exactly any condoms out here,” he told you, “It’s just too risky.”

It was a sorry excuse, Joel knew it, and he could tell you did too. His boner rubbing into your ass told you as much. Joel wanted to, he wanted to fuck you, but he just couldn’t, not yet anyway. Not until he knew that it was what you wanted, that he was what you wanted.

A moment went by before he heard you whisper, “You can pull out?”

Joel couldn’t hold back the smile threatening to spill across his face, “I’ve heard that one before, didn’t exactly go to plan.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, turning around in his arms to find his face.

Shit.

“Nothin’,” he shook his head. He didn’t want to think about that right now, didn’t want to feel that grief that’s never gone away, didn’t want it to tear at the happiness he felt in this moment. “It’s just somethin’ from before.”

Your interest seemed to pique at that. You turned around fully in his arms and slung your arm around his broad chest. Your eyes glittered with curiosity, “How was it? Your life before?”

Memories flashed before Joel’s eyes; days of hard work under the Austin sun, drunk laughter at the bar with his brother, pink birthday parties, and singing along to girl groups in the truck.

He held his breath for a moment before he let out a quiet sigh, “Normal, I guess.”

When he looked down at you where you rested your head on his shoulder, it seemed his brief answer had disappointed you, so he decided to elaborate, “I worked too damn much– me ‘nd my lil’ brother we uh, had a business together–”

“Contractors,” you remembered.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “that’s right.”

“What’s his name?” you asked.

“Who’s name?” Joel frowned.

“Your brother,” you said, the ‘duh’ not spoken out loud, but your tone indicative of it either way.

“Uh, Tommy.”

“Joel and Tommy,” he could hear the smile in your voice. “What’s he like?”

Joel sucked in a breath, “A pain in my ass first of all.”

A playful slap landed on his chest and Joel couldn’t help but smile, “I’m serious.”

Interlocking his fingers with your hand on his chest, Joel opened up to you. “Tommy always wanted to be a hero. He enlisted in the army right outta high school, I was… well, it doesn’t matter– they shipped him off to Iraq a few months later and he…” Joel trailed off, his eyes fixating on a crack in the ceiling.

“What happened when he got back?” you gently asked with a squeeze of his hand.

“Turns out bein’ in the army doesn’t make you feel much like a hero,” Joel sighed, “I watched out for him, kept him outta trouble, made sure he had a steady job.”

“You’re a good brother,” you told him, but Joel felt the opposite.

“I don’t know,” Joel shook his head slightly, “Then the outbreak happens, and Tommy convinces me to join a group makin’ their way up to Boston, which I did, mostly to keep an eye on him, keep him alive. We meet Tess, join a crew ‘nd… did some things I ain’t proud of, but we were survinin’, right?”

You squeezed his hand again, urging him to continue. “Then Tommy meets Marlene. She talks him into joinin’ the Fireflies. Same mistake he made when he was eighteen– wants to save the world. ‘Course, last I heard he quit the Fireflies too. So, now he’s on his own out there.”

“And that’s how you ended up here, looking for him.” You said the words slowly, like you were contemplating each word, “and he’s still out there somewhere.”

A lump of guilt grew in Joel’s throat. Had he abandoned his brother for the safety of your arms? Let Tess die for nothing?

“Yeah,” he swallowed around his guilt, “Last contact I heard from him came from around the Cody tower– in Wyoming.”

“Cody?” you sat up, “That’s not too far from Jackson… maybe that’s where he is? I need to ask Arthur, but there’s no other settlements around here except in Jackson.”

A small glimmer of hope awakened in him, “You sure?”

“Yeah,” you nodded your head, “when spring comes you should go to Jackson with Arthur– maybe he’s there!”

Your enthusiasm was cute; the way you seemed to glow above him. “Maybe,” he hummed, noncommittedly, as he pulled you down to rest against his chest again.

A moment passed in silence before you whispered, “And this Tess… was she your wife?”

“No, she… she was my partner– but she was family.” The words strained in his throat, like they didn’t want to come out, “She’s dead… got bit.”

“I’m sorry, Joel,” you said, your voice gentle as you squeezed him tighter. “I understand… my family–” you cut yourself of, but Joel understood.

Dead.

“Arthur said I wasn’t the first person passin’ through. I’m guessing that was you?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, “I uh, my family and I, we were travelling with a group. It wasn’t very large, but I guess it was big enough to draw attention. One night, uh,” your voice started to tremble, and it broke something in Joel.

“Angel,” he whispered, his hand wrapping tighter around you, “It’s okay, you can tell me.”

“I’m sorry,” you sniffled, “it’s just really hard to talk about.”

“Don’t apologize, I know baby, I know,” Joel soothed before pressing light kisses to the top of your head.

“One night,” you cleared your throat, “We’d camped, had dinner and I… I waited for my parents to fall asleep so I could sneak into the tent of this boy that I liked, Ben. He was the only person my age in our group. I had just turned eighteen and I was in love, I guess.”

You paused, and Joel pressed another kiss to the top of your head. “We were fooling around in his tent when I heard something outside,” you continued, “Ben said I was being paranoid, that I was just afraid to get caught by my parents, but then we heard a gunshot. It was chaos, e-everything, t-they’d killed my family, Ben, e-everyone. I managed to hide behind a tree, my feet were like frozen to the ground, I-I couldn’t run. I saw each and every face of the men who murdered my family. They raided the camp, took e-everything.”

“Angel,” Joel soothed when you started crying, “You’re safe… you’re safe now.”

“I don’t know how I did it, but I managed to get away– I just ran, ran as fast as I could for as long as I could. I’ve never been so cold, or tired or hungry as when I stumbled on this farm. I don’t remember the first days, I was so sick, but Alma and Arthur took care of me– I owe them everything, they saved my life.”

You were full on crying now, and Joel tried his best to calm you. He whispered soothing words in your ear, pressed soft kisses to your skin, and held you in his arm. He let you cry, as he cursed the people who’d done this to you – cursed the world who continued to take, and take, and take.

Joel couldn’t leave you, and maybe deep down he’d know it for a long time. He’d do as you’d suggested and go with Arthur to Jackson come spring, but he was coming back for you.

He wasn’t gonna leave you.

The days came and went and collected into a tranquil rhythm of the cogs in Joel’s routine. He’d wake to the bleeding blade of the sun over the lip of the mountain, or your kisses over his heavy eyelids. After that first night together, you slept in his bed more nights than not, as his bed transformed into a room for just the two of you. A place where Joel didn’t have to think or be anything other than completely himself. A place to laugh and smile, whisper under the bright moon, and hear his name fall from your lips in breathy moans.

Your chest rose and fell in a steady beat, your eyes closed so delicately you looked like a sleeping angel. And you were, his angel. Joel never made a habit of watching you sleep, but sometimes he’d indulge himself in the peacefulness of the hour between night and dusk. By the time the room started to turn blue with the morning light, that’s when Joel missed you too much; wrapping his arms around you with just enough movement to wake you without being blamed.

He’d let you dream for a few moments longer, though. Content to lay in the silence with you before the noise of the day would pull you apart. But the moment of peace could only last for so long, the soft thumps of Alma’s steps down the stairs told Joel it was time to wake up.

Under the crinkling of the sheets, Joel’s hand found the dip in your waist. He was about to kiss you good morning when he heard Alma’s steps come closer and closer. A surge of panic coursed to his chest.

“Joel?” she knocked on his door.

“I ain’t decent yet, Alma,” Joel yelled through the door. The loud bass of his voice made you blink your eyes open, looking up at him with a curious look.

“I’m sorry Joel– I was just letting you know that Arthur isn’t feeling well today.”

Joel sighed. This was the third time in as many weeks Arthur was sick, and now Joel was in for another day alone with the work and the trees.

“Thank you, ma’am. I’ll be out in a second.”

“I’m going to get started on breakfast for you, Joel,” she answered.

When Joel had thanked Alma, and her steps had faded away, Joel indulged himself in a morning kiss. The way your lips slotted against his felt like oxygen rebounding his lungs. 

“Again?” you sighed when you broke away from the kiss, your hand found his hair to brush a curl from his face.

“’s the cold I reckon– ‘nd the work… it ain’t exactly easy on the old man.”

You hummed and cupped his chin. “Maybe I should go with you today? Help you out?” you posed.

Joel heard himself chuckle and shook his head, “That ain’t happenin’, angel.”

A gasp left your lips in mock shock, “Why?”

“’Cause the animals would miss you, and I intend on stayin’ on their good side,” he said, a smile hanging off his face.

You narrowed your eyes at him playfully, intent on making him cave, “They’ll be fine.”

Joel only laughed, “You say that ‘nd the next thing I know I got Colonel Eggsworth on my ass.”

“I don’t believe that,” now you were giggling, “Colonel Eggsworth is the nicest rooster we’ve had!”

“I ain’t takin’ any chances, angel,” Joel pecked your lips.

“Coward,” he heard you mumble under your breath as he got out of bed. It made Joel smile, and a warmth gathered around his heart.

Back in the routine, after another quick kiss, you sneakily slipped back into your room to get dressed. While Joel pulled his sweater over his head, he thought about what it meant to wake up each morning with you and feel three words rive at his heart, never having it in him to say them, to let them spill out his mouth.

Maybe saying nothing was honesty’s default. Maybe it was how he could avoid telling you all the stupid things he wanted to say. So, for now he said nothing. Said nothing at the breakfast table. Nothing when you’d helped him saddle up Ingydar. And nothing as you waved him goodbye.

After months working in the woods, Joel did his work on autopilot. He always started with a reconnaissance round, looking for which trees to chop down. Then, with the weight of the axe in his hands, he’d start his work. Now, after they’d brought the horse out, the work was somewhat easier. He still had to chop down the tree, and clean off the branches, but he could move the trunks much easier now with the horse.

The wind howled like a hound, biting at Joel’s cheeks but the sun was out, and Joel didn’t mind. He’d gotten used to the cold by now, and Arthur had taught him quickly how to layer up. The increasing number of knitted pieces of clothing you’d made him also helped.

By the time the sun was at its highest peak, Joel debated going back for lunch. He’d done so every time he was alone out here, and especially after they’d started bringing the horse. The walk back had been cut in half on horseback, maybe even more than half now that he didn’t have to wade through the snow.

Looking back, Joel almost couldn’t see Ingydar where he’d tied him to a tree. He’d gone deeper into the woods than yesterday. Maybe it wasn’t worth it today? He could eat his packed lunch and finish up a little earlier instead.

The days had gotten shorter and shorter, and the hours of daylight had shrunk in the months he and Arthur had been working. But the sun had turned, Joel felt it. It wasn’t much, maybe a half hour or so, but he felt the difference.

He ate his lunch in the company of Ingydar, feeding him some carrots he’d snagged from the basement. He was a good horse, old and tired but hard working. Joel worked until the sun dropped behind the mountain, a shadow coating the world as it grew darker and darker. He needed to get back before it got properly dark. Joel quickly gathered his things, swinging his gun over his shoulders before he was back on horseback.

The horse knew the way back by itself at this point, even in the dark, but something wasn’t right. What was that smell? Small snowflakes started to fall from the sky the closer he got to the edge of the wood, but the smell only grew stronger.

Smoke.

Thoughts tumbled in Joel’s head, small fleets on a stormy sea. With a kick to the sides of Ingydar, they picked up their pace. The muted rhythm of horse hoofs against the packed snow trail, beat along to Joel’s heart.

A cloud of smoke rose up to the sky, dancing through bright yellow and orange flames. Joel couldn’t get there fast enough, pushing Ingydar to the limit as they galloped up the trail to the house. Joel’s heart was in his throat.

What the fuck was happening?

The flames licked at the sky, devouring the house, moaning and kicking like a beast. The heat was unbearable, the light almost blinding. Ingydar neighed loudly as Joel quickly jumped down, not bothering to tie him to something or calm him down. Joel watched the house burn in total disbelief. Frozen to the ground by shock, his heart beating loudly in his ears.

You.

Where were you? You had to been able to get out somehow, right? Why was everything so quiet?

Something caught his eye then, only a few steps from the porch stairs. His feet carried him without a second thought. Arthur was clad in only his pajamas and his robe. He must’ve been forced out of bed. The snow around him was stained crimson from where the life had spilled out of him.

Joel’s first thought was that he was dead, but then Arthur’s eyes flickered open to find Joel’s. The snow creaking under Joel’s shoes must’ve pulled him from his slowed death.

“Joel?” he croaked, blood spilling from his mouth.

“Don’t try ‘nd speak.” Joel’s voice came out colder than he’d expected. This couldn’t be real. Falling to his knees, Joel worked quickly, placing Arthur’s head gently in his lap as he found the source of the bleeding.

The blood oozed from a hole in his stomach. A bullet wound, most definitely. Joel put as much pressure on it as he could manage. His mittens drank the blood greedily, saturated by red. It just kept coming, the warmth coating his fingers.

What the fuck had happened?

Under him Arthur coughed, spilling more blood down his chin, coating his white beard in red. “Listen…”

Joel shook his head. This couldn’t be happening. This was just a bad dream. If he could just open his eyes, he’d be back in bed with you. He just needed to open his eyes.

“She’s alive,” Arthur managed to say, “They took her alive. Raiders–” another cough, “Broke in. Alma dead.”

The panic in Arthur’s face was almost too much for Joel to watch. His breath was heavy, breathing through this new information as his head spun with questions. Arthur’s eyes glazed over, and Joel knew there wasn’t enough time.

“Where is she?” he hurried, his hand lightly tapping Arthur on his cheek. He just needed to stay alive a little longer.

“Woods.” Was the only word Arthur could manage, as he used the last of his strength to point south.

An awful stench mixed with the smoke, and Joel knew Arthur was gonna die. His body couldn’t control itself anymore, ridding itself of the last of pieces of life. There was nothing beautiful about it. Nothing peaceful or dignified. Not how an old man like Arthur should leave this world.

Joel grabbed Arthur’s hand, it was clammy and cold, but it was the least he could do – Arthur wasn’t gonna die alone. He tried to think of something to say, anything at all, but the words died on his tongue.

“Alma…” Arthur whispered with his last breath, and Arthur’s hand went slack in his hand.

An eerie silence fell over the farm, safe from the fire crackling and moaning. Emotions raged inside Joel, fighting to bubble to the top. Anger, confusion, guilt, grief. A loud crack could be heard, like glass shattering, and it pulled Joel from his shock. He gently laid Arthur down on the ground, before he managed to rise on unsteady feet.

A loud noise started ringing in his ears, and Joel’s breath started coming out in an uneven pace. Shit. Joel tied a fist over his chest, his body tilting forward as he tried to catch his breath over the panic tying up his throat. He took a few shuffling steps before he hurled, gall burning his tastebuds as Joel vomited on the ground.

When he’d thrown up all there was in his stomach, Joel groaned. He ripped off the bloody mittens as quickly as he could, his hands digging into the white snow to wash his mouth of the bitter taste.

Joel burned inside and outside. Standing so close to the house, the heat was unbearable. Everything was unbearable. Sarah was dead, Tess was dead, Alma was dead, and Arthur was dead.

Could he take anymore grief? Joel wondered. How much grief was a man supposed to endure in a lifetime? None of this was fair.

Had he just gone back to the house for lunch, they’d all be alive. Had he not dragged her across the country to find his stupid brother, she’d still be alive. Had he not told that soldier she was hurt, she’d still be alive.

As he stared into the raging fire, Joel felt his own anger simmer to the surface. It pushed away all the grief, and the guilt, and sharpened his senses, made him laser focused. His arms and legs moved by their own accord, tugging the shotgun from his shoulder, before he started moving in the direction Arthur had pointed.

They were gonna pay for this. They’d made his world go up in flames and struck the match on their own life in return.

As Joel vanished into the night, he left a piece of himself behind. He was going to find you. He was going to hold you and kiss you again. Nothing or no one could come in the way of that.

Nothing could come in the way of Joel.

i hope someone liked this? i'm very curious about what your thoughts for the last part will be, so if you have them please leave a comment, reply or an ask. they are always super welcomed, and they make me super happy <3 other than that thank you for reading!!

next part -> here!

© shellshocklove, 2024 i do not give any permission to repost, translate, feed to AI or redistribute any of my writing, with or without credit!

[viennakarma]

Happiness is a butterfly

Fernando Alonso x Reader

Summary: He wants you but he can't have you. But when a fatal crash happens, he realizes maybe he should just take the jump, before it's too late.

Word count: 6.4k

Tags: Female reader, teammate reader, smut, oral, angst, crash, very remorseful nano, cursing, mostly fernando pov, fernando is in denial, age gap (not defined), hurt/comfort, brief mention of Jules Bianchi, happy ending, not beta read

Relationships: Fernando Alonso x Reader

Notes: LISTEN I wish I could control my creative brain but I can’t. *taps mic* Ok, so, who's ready for our little monthly crying session? This actually came to me in a dream after I listened to Happiness is a butterfly, and I ended up incorporating some of the lyrics in the story. I was only contemplating writing this when Anon sent this request asking for angst after a big fight, and I thought it goes perfectly with what I had in mind.

Hope it's to your liking, Anon!

Find me on Twitter!

“Fernando,” You whispered like it wasn’t wrong, like his name was a prayer.

Fernando knew it was wrong, not only because you were a driver and his teammate, but also because you were way too young for him. But whenever you two were like that, you in his arms, it felt so right, so perfect.

Sometimes he wondered to himself if he took advantage of you. Because ever since you first met, you looked at him with big shiny eyes, like you were facing a hero. He knew you were a fan of his, but then again, most of the younger drivers were. But when you two became teammates and got closer, he’d notice how your eyes would find his first thing after entering any room. Whenever you two had chats alone, you’d smile at him in a specific way you didn’t smile at anyone else, blush creeping up your face.

It was so easy to be enchanted by you, by your kindness and willingness. Fernando was drawn to you like a moth to flame, only you didn’t burn him. You were kind to everyone and very talkative, and for a while, Fernando wondered how you managed to get into Formula 1 and keep your spirit intact. Everyone called you a social butterfly. Then he started calling you Mariposa, as a sweet nickname, and he explained to you it meant “Butterfly”.

You two were always together, being teammates, so it didn’t take long for the dynamic shift. Soon, there were longing looks and lingering touches. The way Fernando would always touch the small of your back for a little too long when talking to you, or the way you lean too close whenever talking to him, or the way his eyes stare at your lips every opportunity. Or when you finished a good race and the first thing you’d do was jump on his arms. How you’d always knock three times on his helmet right before going off to the race, he started reciprocating the gesture, since he knew it was probably your thing for good luck or something.

Things went like that for too long, and neither of you were brave enough to take the jump, as you called it.

That until fate put you face to face during summer break. You were in Mallorca with a bunch of your friends for a girls trip in a resort by the sea. You were having brunch when you spotted Fernando at the same time he spotted you, his eyebrows raising in surprise, he muttered something to the people with him that looked like his family members, before coming to you.

“Mariposa!” He hugged you softly.

“Hi! Good to see you!” You chirped, nervously.

Fernando blatantly checked you out. You were wearing simple bikinis and a light beach robe. You were tanned, hair wild and cheeks red like you had come straight out of one of his wet dreams.

“Enjoying summer break?” He asked.

“Yeah, with my friends,” You pointed to where they waited for you at the table, “will you be here for long?”

“No, my family is going back today and I’m leaving tomorrow. We’ve been here for a few days already.”

You waved him goodbye after a quick chat. That night, the weather, the breeze and the empty villa tempted him into calling you. He didn’t want to be that guy so he resisted the urge, instead going for a walk by the beach, alone. As fate would have it, he found you at a small beach party with your friends, dancing and drinking.

Like a magnet, your eyes found his, and you said something to your friends before walking up to him.

“You came to the party?” You asked.

“No, I was just taking a walk and passed by,” He shrugged, and started walking away “I’ll let you go back to your friends.”

“No! No- I mean- Can I walk with you?” You asked and he just nodded.

You two walked away by the shore, the small waves crashing over your feet, and you two chatting about the island and all the adventures you got to go.

“So you went diving, surfing? Everything?”

“I have always been kind of a scaredy-cat, especially as a kid. My dad used to tell me ‘you just have to breathe ten seconds of courage and take the jump’. Funnily, racing was the only thing I wasn’t afraid of. I’m in control, me and the car are one.”

He listened to you for a long while, his eyes focused on the way the wind picked up your hair, your dress flowy in the wind and your bikini top peeking from under the neckline. You were looking delicious, he had to admit. You always were, but now, after spending the whole day under the sun, your skin was golden and glowy, and he imagined himself biting into your shoulder and kissing up your neck.

When you two finally stopped by the villa, Fernando looked at you attentively.

“Won’t your boyfriend be worried about you?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” you shook your head knowing that he was just trying to find out if you had someone.

“You don’t? Well you’re pretty and nice, I thought you’d have one by now.” 

“You think I’m pretty?” You asked, blushing which made him chuckle.

“You know you are stunning.”

“Well, I know I’m pretty, I just didn’t know if I am pretty enough for you.”

“Mariposa,” his voice had a tone of reprimand, but his eyes falling down your cleavage and body, betrayed him.

“Just one kiss?” You asked, pouting, “and we don’t even have to talk about it after.”

“I can’t.”

“But you want to?” You asked, full of hope.

“We should not,” he whispered as you closed the distance to his face, your face barely centimeters from his, lips dangerously close.

“We could just,” you tried to come up with an argument, but your lips brushed his beard and you lost all train of thought.

“If we start, I will not be able to stop,” he mumbled, trying so hard to refrain himself.

“Then don’t.”

That’s all it took for him to press his fingers to your nape, pulling you in and smashing his lips to yours. And it felt divine, like nothing he had ever done before, you were sweet and the harder he kissed you, the more pliant you got in his arms, sighing and moaning softly as his hand found home over your ass, pressing firmly until your whole body was flush to his.

“Fernando,” you whispered, his lips going down your neck, his beard making goosebumps raise on your skin.

Then you walked inside without really breaking apart. Fernando pulled your dress from your body, staring at you in your bikini.

“This is tiny,” he said, hooking a finger by the string on the sides of the bottom.

You smiled some way you hoped was seductive, taking a step back so he could see you fully as you pulled the strings, letting your bikini top fall to the floor, followed by the bottom soon after.

Soon he had you bent over the back of the sofa, holding onto the seat for dear life as he knelt behind you and ate you out, fingering you ass all the way to a mind blowing orgasm. Then he fucked you senseless, whispering dirty nothings into your ear, switching English and Spanish back and forth. He slapped your ass until it was stinging, whispering about your “tempting tiny bikini”. He had you groaning, drooling against the sofa until your toes curled and you came around his cock.

“Nano… Fuck-” you moaned feeling him cumming too.

He cuddled you, both of you falling on the sofa, spent.

“Why were we holding back? We should’ve done this a long time ago.” You said, lips brushing his beard.

He didn’t answer because he knew why he had been holding back. You were young, sometimes naive, and his teammate. It was double the trouble. But he didn’t allow himself to wallow in those feelings, rather focusing on the feel of you naked in his arms.

“You know what we should do? Stay here a bit longer,” you rose from his chest, eyes glinting mischievously, “we should extend our stay here.”

“Just you and me?”

“Just us,” you whispered, planting a kiss on his chest.

And so you stayed with him. You sent your friends to Ibiza as a gift and Fernando extended his rent on the villa. You’d spend the day lazing around, cooking together and going to the beach or the pool. You played tennis and trained together in the small gym. You made love on every possible surface of that whole villa, which left you spent and satisfied every single day.

And you talked. Fernando considered you to be one of the closests people to him on the grid, but still, he learned so much more about you, about your mental strength to rise and thrive in motorsport. And you were clever and witty, joking around him, talking about life and all your dreams. And he could hear you for hours on end, never getting tired of you.

Unfortunately, your little time of uninterrupted happiness had to end. With a heavy heart, you kissed him goodbye, both of you aware that things would never go back to the way they were before summer break. But you two were also too scared to name anything, or to ruin whatever this dynamic was.

But you left Mallorca admitting to yourself that you had fallen in love even deeper.

You tried to keep texting and calling him, but you usually were in very different time zones so the texts were few and far between. Fernando even sent you a sweet text on your birthday a few of days later.

There was a gala by the end of summer break almost three weeks later, hosted by the FIA, it was mostly for mingling, and most drivers usually went, especially those trying to keep an image to the big shots.

Fernando went there because he rarely missed it. And maybe because he knew you would be there too, and maybe he could leave with you.

You arrived a little late, stunning in a green gown, with a tight corset and a big slit showing your leg. Fernando watched as you made rounds, greeting people and old men, other drivers that were your friends and their wives or girlfriends. You eventually made your way to Fernando, and he proudly waited for you when you walked up to him, the most beautiful smile adorning your lips and eyes shining just as much as the diamonds on your earrings.

“You’re beautiful, mariposa.” Fernando whispered.

“Thank you, you look handsome too. Love me a man in a tuxedo.” You whispered back conspiratorially, winking at him.

You two chatted for a little, watching the people around. You told him everything you did during summer break after you two parted ways in Mallorca. When the slow music started, you watched the couples getting to the dancefloor.

“Nano, can we dance?” You asked. He just stiffened, face unsure.

“Hm, I’m not sure.”

“Nobody will mind, we’re teammates,” you shrugged.

“I don’t think it's a good idea,” He looked at your face, still staring longingly at the couples slow dancing on the dancefloor. Yearning for something he couldn’t give you.

“Mhm…” You hummed, disappointed. You stood there silent for a couple more minutes, watching the dancefloor. Fernando imagined dancing with you, having you in his arms, listening to your voice, your hand on his shoulder. You cleared your throat for a second, “I’m gonna get a drink.”

You didn’t wait for his response, leaving with long strides to the bar, the opposite side. Fernando’s eyes never left you, he watched as you got a drink and sipped a little, sitting on a bar stool. Some people stopped to greet you quickly. At some point, Charles Leclerc stopped you, whispering something that made you giggle a little, then he offered you a hand, probably inviting you to dance, but you refused politely. You grabbed a second drink and turned on the stool, nursing your drink and still watching the party go on.

You wanted to dance with him, not anyone else.

Eventually, the party died down, and Fernando got close to you again, whispering in your ear to meet him in the most discreet parking lot and then he left. You watched his back as he made his way out. Downing whatever was left of your drink, you stood up, making a quick route to say goodbye to everyone.

Finally, you met Fernando in the car. He had driven himself in his expensive car.

As he drove away in the middle of the night, he put his hand on your thigh under the slit of the dress. You honestly wanted to jump him, to make him stop the car anywhere and just get into it.

Quietly making into his hotel room, you kicked your high heels off and kissed him, not giving him any second before deepening the kiss, pressing your body to his.

“Wait,” he managed to croak out. You took a step back. He went into his luggage and picked a small box, handing it to you, “I know your birthday was two weeks ago, but since I didn’t see you- well, happy birthday.”

“You didn’t have to…” you whispered, opening the box to a beautiful and delicate necklace with a gold butterfly pendant with small diamonds all around the wings, “it’s so beautiful, Fernando.”

“Not as much as you, Mariposa.” He whispered back, taking the necklace, placing you in front of the full body mirror and standing behind you and locking the necklace around your neck.

“Thank you”

He kissed your neck, running a hand down your arm, then kissing your shoulders while pulling the hair pins out of your hair, letting your hair free. He kept leaving hot wet kisses on your skin, calling you “hermosa” and “my mariposa” all while unzipping your dress slowly. You let him do whatever, his hands pushing the corset out until the fabric pooled around your ankles kicking it away too, and you stood in nothing but panties and the necklace.

You gasped, staring at your reflection on the mirror and him behind you, his rough fingertips running over your side, getting to your front and cupping your boobs. You felt soft as his fingers pinched your nipples, making you moan softly.

“You ready to take me?” He asked against your ears.

“Please, Nano,” you moaned his name the way you only said it when you were alone and getting intimate.

“Foot there,” he pointed to a chair. You did as he said, one leg up so he could have better access to your panties.

He pressed his chest to your back, fingers sliding inside your panties to feel your obscene wetness dampening the fabric. His fingers slid right over your clit, spreading your juices all around, before diving into your cunt. You moaned, head lolling back against his shoulder, as he pleasured you nonstop. You had been turned on even since the gala, and the ride to the hotel had been pure torture not being touched. So it didn’t take much for him to build you up, his thumb brushing your clit. Your moaning got louder and with the way he could feel your cunt clenching around his fingers, he knew you were close.

And so he stopped, making you whine. He just chuckled.

“Nano! I was so close!” You pouted.

“Needy girl, get on the bed,” he pointed again, like an order, “you’re cumming around my cock first.”

You sat on the bed slowly, still reeling from almost orgasming. You watched as Fernando started undressing in front of you, so you just ran both hands from his chest down to his thighs, fingers barely touching the straining erection in his pants.

“Don’t get greedy now. Wait.”

With his words, you stopped touching him, leaning back so you could watch him undress. When he finally got rid of all clothing, he leaned, kissing your stomach and up your boobs, mouthing your nipples as his hands pulled your panties, letting you lay down on the edge of the bed. You held his head against your nipples, his eyes finding yours through his eyelashes. 

When you were both fully naked, he just held your legs open and sank into your cunt, making you moan loud as you back rose up from the bed.

“Nano- oh, fuck!” You moaned, and pulled by his neck to kiss you.

He kissed you back slowly, patiently contrasting your desperate hands on his shoulder, crawling up his neck, fingertips sinking into his soft hair, as he fucked you slowly, pressing you deliciously into the bed, one hand firmly on the bedrest and the other holding your neck, pressing until you were cumming, his lips sucking hickeys into your skin.

You two were cuddling quietly when you decided to say what you’ve been thinking about ever since Mallorca.

“We should go on a date, Fernando. Take the next step, I really like what we have.”

You could feel him stiffening against you, and you closed your eyes, afraid of what his response would be.

“We can’t, mariposa. You are way younger than me,” He said somberly, “and we’re teammates. This would be too messy for the both of us, but especially for you, who is just starting your career.”

“I don’t mind if that’s the price I need to pay to have you.”

“We can’t take this kind of risk for something we don’t even know it’s real.”

That squeezed your heart and made you angry with his denial.

“Fernando, this is real- You know that!”

“Calling a cab to take you to your hotel,” he said standing up and picking his phone. His tone was cold, detached from you, like you were just some toy for him to have fun with, and now you served your purpose.

“Don’t be like that, Fernando. This is more than just sex,” you got up, covering yourself with the bedsheet because it felt too vulnerable having this conversation naked.

“We can’t be anymore than that. You’re too young to understand.” He said not looking at you.

There was a lump on your throat rapidly forming. He knew you hated when people treated you like you were dumb because you were young.

“Please let us just talk about it-”

“There’s nothing to talk about. This means nothing! Nada!” He exclaimed.

“You don’t mean that. Don’t be a jerk.” Your voice was already wavering.

You stared at his back as he turned around, going to the opposite side of the room, your tears started falling down.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He finally said but still didn’t look at you.

“I’m already hurt,” you said, picking up your panties from the floor hastily putting them on, realizing how Fernando had helped you with your dress, so you just picked up one of his sweaters and dressed, “do you want me or do you not?”

“I don’t want you.”

“You’re missing good things in life because of fear. Just take the fucking jump, Fernando.”

The next thing he heard was the slamming door behind you.

When he walked back, he noticed you had left the butterfly necklace on the table. Holding the necklace against the palm of his hand, he wondered if he did the right thing or just lost the best thing in his life.

You didn’t text or called him. And he didn’t either. Eventually he texted you, to tell you had “forgot” the necklace, to test the waters.

“You’re the only one who calls me mariposa. This necklace has no meaning to me if you’re not in my life.”

His mind would often wander back to Mallorca, to those few days you and him lived in paradise. Sleeping late, waking up even later, then making love lazily under the sun, sunbathing naked by the pool, and cooking together, training together. There was never silence with you, since you were always talking or singing or playing loud music.

And he missed it. As the weeks progressed and the more race weeks came, you didn’t try to talk to him about the two of you. You were still polite and talkative, usually filling his silence with stories, talks about the track and strategies. You still knocked on his helmet three times before every race, probably a pre race ritual by now.

He missed you. He missed not only the feel of your cunt around his cock, but he missed your loudness, and your laugh. He missed the light in your eyes that was slowly darkening each passing day. Like you were losing hope he would come around and change his mind.

The last race of the season, he was a little late from a meeting, so you were already getting in the car when he came out. Your visor was up, so you just looked at him, and knocked your own helmet three times as a sign to him, who did the same gesture back to you.

By around ⅔ of the race, there was an accident and the red flag was called.

It took maybe two or three minutes until all cars stopped on the pitlane, lined up under the red flag. As Fernando climbed out of the car, he turned around, looking for you, removing his helmet, guard and balaclava, he went inside the garage.

“Where’s Mariposa?” He asked, to one in particular. But then his eyes landed in Martha, your PT, and her eyes were watery as she pointed to the screen.

A sinking feeling expanded in his stomach as he saw your car, that now looked like an unrecognizable wreckage. He dropped his helmet, covering his mouth with a hand. The marshals were all around your burning car, various people with fire extinguishers, trying to lower the fire enough to pull you out.

“Has she responded yet? Did she say anything?” Fernando asked without removing his eyes from the screen.

“No,” Somebody said, somberly.

“She’ll be fine,” Fernando assured, probably trying to convince himself, and his rapid heartbeat. He had seen and had been in many ugly crashes, and in the end, the driver had come out unscathed. He was sure you could manage, you were very strong and stubborn.

When the fire died down enough, a couple of marshals pulled you out, and Fernando’s heart felt like it was stopping as they pulled you out unconscious. The marshals made a small shield around you and carried you to the ambulance.

Looking around, Fernando finally noticed how everyone was horrified by the crash, and all the drivers around seemed pale and worried. It took a couple of minutes for the FIA to decide to keep the race going, setting it to restart 15 minutes later.

“Fernando,” someone called, and he turned to be faced with George and Alex, who were your closest friends on the grid, “any news on her?”

“Not yet,” he paused, trying really hard to not freak out, “Mike went to the hospital with her.”

“That was ugly,” Alex muttered gloomily.

The tree of them stayed silent, eyes on the screen where a replay of your crash. It was probably a mechanical issue, since you were in high speed when the tyres locked, and you visibly couldn’t brake, going straight into the barriers, full force.

“Will-” George started but his voice failed a little and he cleared his throat, “will she be ok?”

“Yes. She’ll be ok.” Fernando said, not only to calm down the two young drivers, but also to convince himself, since no other option was acceptable in his mind.

You had to be fine.

“Fuck it,” Fernando went inside his room, changing quickly into more casual clothes, as he came out, the team was confused, “I’m sorry, but I have to check on her. Martha, come with me.”

He left knowing he would face terrible consequences with the FIA, not only for not going back to the race, but also because he avoided the press to go to the hospital you were taken to.

On the car, on the way to the hospital they had taken you to, his phone rang, and it was Mike, who had been the first one to go with you to the hospital. Fernando supposed Mike would want to tear him a new one for abandoning the race.

But no. Mike wanted to update him, telling you had a concussion that had knocked you out on the spot, inside the car. They were going to check if you had any more injuries with scans and tests.

By the time he got to the hospital, he met with Mike, and with Vince, your friend and manager, they said you were still unconscious and going through all the examinations necessary. The doctors wanted to see if you didn’t have any internal bleeding or fractures. They kept you unconscious during urgent care, hoping you would wake up after the tests and after the meds wear off.

Fernando sat in the waiting room unmoved, his fear eating him inside every minute you had not woken up yet. Martha was tearful the whole time, while Vince was making calls right and left, he got in touch with your family and closest friends. Alberto showed up around an hour after to pick Fernando up to go back to the hotel.

“I am not leaving,” Fernando said.

“Fernando, there’s nothing you can do. Vince said she will probably wake up late morning tomorrow, we can just-”

“I will not leave.”

Fernando’s words left no space for debate. He didn’t have any commitments for the next week. So he stayed after everyone left, waiting for news on his mariposa. He could barely drink the coffee because his stomach was churning with the lack of news. In the middle of the night, finally they finished the tests and they put you in a room.

After bribing his way inside, Fernando was able to get into your room and see you. You were sleeping, looking peaceful in that hospital bed, using an oxygen inhaler.

“Why does she need oxygen?” He asked the nurse checking on you.

“Here it says she inhaled some smoke before the fire was put off,” the woman explained, reading your chart.

“She will be alright, isn’t she?” He asked, his tone audibly worried. The nurse sighed, as if she didn’t want to say her next words.

“We can’t tell just yet. For now the scans and tests show she is fine, but we can only tell for sure after she wakes up.”

She left Fernando behind with dread consuming his every thought.

As he stared at your unconscious body on the bed, he couldn’t help but remember when you slept with him in Mallorca. Your naked body tangled with the blankets, hair splayed on the pillows and tanned limbs looking for him even in sleep, hugging him and keeping him in bed with you longer than he usually did. He sat by the bed, hand holding yours, running his thumb over your cold knuckles.

The remorse was eating him alive. You had to be alright. You had to wake up soon and laugh at his worried face, joking that you’re tougher than you look. Giving him those eyes. He couldn’t bear not looking at your eyes again, that would break him apart one last time.

Because you could have been his the whole time. He could have slept with you in his arms more often than not. He could have been stealing your kisses in dark corners and going out for dinner after late team meetings. He could’ve received random cute selfies from you throughout his day. He could’ve whispered “I love you” into your skin every night. Only he didn’t.

His last words to you were “I don’t want you” and he couldn’t take it if those were his last words for you ever. He never let himself admit to you that he had fallen. That he was absolutely crazy for you, that he loved you even before you ever kissed him.

He was about to spiral in guilt when your sister arrived in the early morning. She visibly didn’t expect Fernando there, holding her sister’s hand.

“I just talked to the doctor,” Mila, your sister, muttered.

“He said the meds will wear off later today,” Fernando said.

“You can go rest now, come back later.” Mila offered. Didn’t sound like she wanted him specifically out, but more out of worry.

“No, I- I want to stay until she’s awake.”

“Fernando, she wouldn’t want you to wear yourself thin because of her,” The way Mila said the words, it left a little unsaid.

“You know?” Was all he asked. Do you know about us? What do you think? What did she say about me? But Mila just nodded, she didn’t look judgemental.

“I know.”

He was about to leave to at least shower and eat something before coming back. As Mila got closer to your sleeping form, Fernando stood back and your sister touched your hand. Then she knocked three times on the bedside table. Fernando frowned.

“Why did you do that?” He asked Mila.

“When we were kids in karting, Dad used to do that to our helmets before races, each knock means a word. ‘I love you’, and with time it just became a silly habit of hers,” Mila explained.

Fernando’s heart twisted inside, eyes watering.

Knock. I. Knock. Love. Knock. You.

You had been doing the knocks to him for months, even before the summer break.

He left the room without a word, breathing in and out to stop the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. He wasn’t an emotional man by any means, but the knowledge that you have been loving him for so long, broke his heart.

After going back to the hotel to shower and eat, he went knocking in Alberto’s room when he noticed he didn’t have his phone anywhere in sight ever since before the race had started. Like predicted, Alberto had his phone.

In his suite, Fernando unlocked his phone to hundreds of notifications, a lot from other drivers, asking for news about you, since not the Formula 1 or the FIA had released any notes about your condition. After shooting a few answers to the other drivers, he finally saw one notification, saying you had left him a voicemail the day before. From the time stamp, it was a bit before the race.

Wide eyed, he pressed play on the voicemail.

“Hey, I’m about to go out in the car, but I guess I just breathed 10 seconds of courage, well not enough to wait to say it to you face to face,” you giggled nervously, “but what I mean to say is, I love you. Probably not what you wanted to hear, but I do love you. And I know you don’t feel the same, but maybe you could… I don’t know, maybe you could take a chance on me. I know your reservations about the world, but… We should take the jump. I can make you really happy if you let me. And maybe one day you will grow to love me- god, that last part was pathetic- Shit- How do I delete this?” There was noise as if you were struggling with the phone and then someone called your name far away, “one second!” you told the person, “shit, I gotta go. Just please, can we talk over the winter break? I guess what I mean is that-” Then the beep ended the message, cutting your voicemail off.

He pressed play a couple more times, until he could breathe again, your voice offering some sense of peace to his mind. You were willing to have him, even after he kicked you out of his hotel room, even after he pretty much ignored your history all these past few months.

It would be alright. You would wake up, he would tell you he loved you and he was so sorry that he had wasted so much time being afraid of what people may think or how the world might treat you.

Only you didn’t.

You didn’t wake up after the meds wore off. And Fernando, your sister, Vince and Martha were all shocked when the doctor said it was possible you were in a coma.

“Everything seems ok, but she’s not waking up. Sometimes the body takes a little more time to recover from traumas like this.”

“When-” Mila’s voice failed, tears streaming down her face, “when do you believe she could wake up?”

“We can’t pinpoint that with precision,” the doctor answered.

“Get all the tests redone,” Fernando said suddenly, “maybe you missed something.”

“But-”

“I’ll pay for it.”

That’s all he said before leaving and entering a toilet by the waiting room. His chest heaving, he watered his shaky hands to try and calm down. You didn’t wake up. They weren’t sure when or if you would wake up. And, fuck, Fernando had seen that before with Jules, who was comatose for months before passing away.

He remembered the blinding pain of losing a friend and he couldn’t bear losing the love of his life too. Fernando stayed in the stall for a while, trying to calm down his terrified thoughts.

When he went back, your sister was still crying, being comforted by Vince.

“Fernando, can you stay here while we call my family?” Mila asked, and Fernando nodded.

As they left, Fernando sat by your side, holding your hand. With his thumb running over the back of your hand, he looked at your face.

“I don’t want you to go,” he whispered, “I need you here. There’s still so much for you here. Please, I just need you to fight a little more, yes? You have always been stubborn.”

He waited for some kind of miracle, for you to wake up, for your eyes to find him like they always did even in a crowded room.

“When you recover, we will go out, on a proper date, and we’ll dance, like you wanted to. We’ll hold hands and I’ll take you to meet my family.” He kissed the back of your hand softly, “Wake up, Mariposa.”

He stayed there the whole day, letting your sister go find a hotel to stay and get some sleep. Then at night, she came back, assuring Fernando that he should go to sleep too, she knew he was more than a day and a half awake. Back at the hotel, he showered the smell of hospital off and made some calls to take care of his businesses. He texted George and Alex to update them. He also talked to his family, giving updates on his teammate, but not prolonging the chat as to not risk breaking down because of the state his mariposa was in the hospital. Then he went to sleep after a quick dinner, exhausted enough to sleep fairly quickly.

He managed to sleep the whole night, going in and off dreams of you, his brain probably too worried to really forget, even unconscious. He woke up at dawn, going back to the hospital so your sister could leave to rest.

Fernando checked on you first thing, and you were still unconscious, but your sister was on the phone talking to your parents, so he just left to give her a little privacy. He went into the cafeteria and drank a small cup of coffee.

As he went back, he noticed how agitated Vince looked on the phone right outside your room.

“Vince, what happened?” He asked, dreading that the worse had happened in the few minutes he was away.

“She woke up!”

Fernando’s eyes welled up with tears as he opened the door.

“-No, no, don’t talk just yet. Let’s wait for the doctor,” you sister said to you, then both of them looked at Fernando, who looked rooted to the spot, “Fernando! She woke up!” Your sister said through happy tears.

Your sister hugged again, kissing your head, whispering how she loved you all while Fernando stood there, trying to will his limbs to move. Then the doctor and a nurse came, asking you all to leave so he could examine you.

He waited outside as your sister went on the phone with the good news to your family again. Then the doctor came out, announcing you were looking good, and apparently no sequelae but they would still keep you for a few more days for close examination and to make sure everything was alright.

Barely registering anything, Fernando just entered your room, and you smiled at him. You smiled. Your eyes shining bright like you had just woken up from a simple nap.

And then he cried. Fully cried for the first time since the accident, like the relief of seeing you alive and well broke the dam of the tears he had been trying to hold back. And he could breathe again. Covering his face with both hands, he tried to get himself in control but he only stopped when he heard you.

“Na-” your voice was hoarse, “-no.”

“No, don’t talk yet. The nurse said your throat might feel a little dry.” He managed to subside his tears enough to talk.

When he sat down on the chair, you lifted your hand to hold his face. You were still a bit weak, but you wiped his face of the tears. He held your hand with both of his, kissing your palm.

“You gave us quite the scare,” Fernando said with a small smile. You smiled back, looking sleepy, “I thought I was going to lose you.”

You shook your head minimally but your eyes had that mischievous glint, like you were thinking of a silly joke about how tough you actually are.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for making you think I don’t love you, when I really do. I have for the longest time. We’ll make it work, however you want,” he just dumped the words, not wanting to lose another precious second not being yours, “soy tuyo, Mariposa. Te amo, mi amor.”

You just held his hand, squeezing it slowly three times. I. Love. You.

[ln4smiamitrophy]

𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔

𐙚 summary; the one where carlos sainz finally meets charles’ childhood friend and can’t help but fall in love.

ʚɞ pairing; carlos sainz jr x reader

ᡣ𐭩 fc; julia.hatchh on insta

⭒ type; smau

⟡ a/n; feel free not to read this, this is just me going on a rant about austria. can i just say yesterday’s race was crazy!? i felt so bad for charles, that collision with oscar really did mess up his race but i’m so happy he was able to climb back up to p11, i wish he could’ve finished in the points but he showed his skills as a driver and it was amazing to watch.

as for the lando and max situation, in my personal opinion, i believe that both drivers made errors in their judgement throughout the battle, and i am well aware that lando had his own issues concerning track limits and that some of his moves on max may not have been the safest but that’s racing. however when looking at the crash alone, i do believe max is at fault. he was the inside driver, and he knows that he has to leave a cars width between him and the outside line. he did not do that and that’s what caused the crash. i personally believe that they both fought too aggressively and i understand that racing is, at its heart, a dangerous sport, but this is why there are safety regulations and rules in which were broken in the austrian grand prix by both drivers, but in the end, it was max who caused the crash, resulting in lando’s dnf and himself finishing in p5.

i also acknowledge that race control and the stewards took far too long in reacting to the battle and if they had been quicker, the crash may not have happened at all. lando had pointed out several times that the way in which max was reacting to his moves was against the rules put in place. their slow reaction caused the battle to continue, and they failed to put a stop to the dangerous situation the rules were set out to prevent causing both cars to suffer damage, especially lando’s, and max receiving a 10 second penalty. i think a situation like this shines light on how race control and the stewards have to be quick in their decision whilst also taking in all factors so situations that could put any driver at risk can be prevented.

when it comes to how both drivers are handling the situation, i do believe max is being more mature about it. however i also acknowledge that lando is still getting used to being in the fight for the win and as fans we have to understand that they are still human beings with real emotions, and that as human beings they may say things in the heat of the moment that they do not fully mean. everybody does it, it’s a normal thing. i hope they can talk it out amongst themselves and come to an agreement. in my personal opinion, i think max needs to accept that he was the cause of the crash and apologise for it and lando needs to accept that some of the moves he made on max were not the safest and apologise for that.

i would just like to say that in no way is this meant to be me sending hate to any driver, this is just my personal opinion. i am not saying that any of you reading this have to think the same way i do about it, i just wanted to voice my opinion as i know many other fans have.

again, i would just like to reiterate that these drivers are people, they are not machines and they have emotions. there are also things going on behind the scenes that we do not know about. i think everyone needs to keep that in mind when discussing their views on this and other matters surrounding this and every sport, celebrity etc.

this was a long one, thank you for coming to my ted talk.

enjoy the fic loves xx

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———————————————————————

y/nusername

📍• melbourne grand prix circuit

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbff and others

y/nusername what a lovely time

tagged; scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55

comments…

charles_leclerc BREAKING NEWS!!! y/n finally attended a race!!

⤷ y/nusername rescheduled a shoot just for you, be grateful

user1 y/n finally at a race!?

⤷ user2 dream come true

arthur_leclerc so glad you were there, made it a bearable weekend

⤷ y/nusername i apologise profoundly for leaving you alone with charles for so long, i shall try to attend more

⤷ arthur_leclerc thank you don’t know how much more i can take

⤷ charles_leclerc hey!! i’m not that bad

⤷ y/nusername ….

user3 i missed charles x y/n content so much

user4 charles is contemplating life in that last pic

carlossainz55 wonderful to meet you

⤷ y/nusername you too !! hope to see you soon

⤷ user5 why do i lowkey ship it??

⤷ user6 they just met, calm tf down

and more…

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y/nusername

liked by carlossainz55, alexandrasaintmleux and others

y/nusername this shoot was incredible, i had an amazing time ❤️ (yes this was the shoot i rescheduled due to the gp)

comments…

user1 how can one women be this hot??

charles_leclerc very grateful you rescheduled

⤷ y/nusername as you should be

user2 the outfit is EVERYTHING

⤷ user3 she devoured

user4 MOTHERRR

carlossainz55 looking good

⤷ y/nusername why thank you mr sainz

⤷ user5 is this his attempt at flirting?? 😭😭

alexandrasaintmleux marry me?

⤷ y/nusername meet you at the registry office in a half hour?

⤷ alexandrasaintmleux i’m there 🏃🏻‍♀️💨

⤷ charles_leclerc y/n stop stealing my gf challenge

⤷ y/nusername no.

and more…

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y/nusername

📍• miami, florida

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and others

y/nusername your fav ferrari girl (& the two so called ferrari “drivers”)

tagged; charles_leclerc, carlossainz55

comments…

user1 bro she’s so gorgeous

user2 the only ferrari girl ever

charles_leclerc not you saying “drivers” as if you didn’t fail your test like 3 times

⤷ y/nusername and?? i can still driver better than you

alexandrasaintmleux prettiest girl

⤷ charles_leclerc what about me? 😔

⤷ alexandrasaintmleux you’re a pretty girl too charles

user3 carlos looking sooooo fine

*liked by y/nusername*

⤷ user3 Y/N LIKED!?

carlossainz55 don’t let her fool you, she’s evil

⤷ y/nusername the LIES!!

⤷ carlossainz55 you stole my drink and laughed in my face when i asked for just a sip

⤷ y/nusername you have legs, you could’ve used them to get another drink

and more…

———————————————————————y/nusername

liked by francisca.cgomes, alexandrasaintmleux and others

y/nusername don’t call me, too busy in bali

comments…

user1 that dress is EVERYTHING

user2 y/n filling the void during f1 summer break

francisca.cgomes stunning as per usual

⤷ y/nusername coming from you, crazy

user3 wait isn’t carlos in bali

⤷ user4 omg is he??

⤷ user5 yeah he posted a story from a boat with bali tagged as the location

charles_leclerc can’t believe you opted for bali rather than spending time with me 😒

⤷ y/nusername oh you’ll get over it

alexandrasaintmleux let’s make out

⤷ y/nusername omg yes please 😍

and more…

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y/nusername

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and others

y/nusername look who i found hiding on my boat

tagged @/carlossainz55

comments…

user1 wait so did they not go together? they just went at the same time

⤷ user2 apparently

carlossainz55 i was forced to take pictures all day 😔

⤷ y/nusername okay 1. you were not forced and 2. it was only like half an hour stfu

charles_leclerc girl don’t even try

⤷ y/nusername what??

⤷ charles_leclerc you know what

⤷ user3 HUH??!?

⤷ user4 the idea of charles saying girl is so funny to me

user5 still think they’d make a cute couple

alexandrasaintmleux “kiss my ass” i’ll definitely kiss your baby 🫦😘

⤷ y/nusername kiss my ass anytime you want sweetheart

⤷ charles_leclerc weird but sure

⤷ y/nusername @/charles_leclerc how do i put this gently?? she wasn’t talking to you idiot

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carlossainz55

liked by landonorris, y/nusername and others

carlossainz55 is this what you kids call a “hard launch”?

tagged y/nusername

comments…

user1 i already love them so much

landonorris yes buddy, this is a hard launch

user2 my parents

user3 f1 bestie turned f1 wag, we love to see it

charles_leclerc if you hurt her, i will not hesitate to crash into every race

⤷ scuderiaferrari no charles

⤷ carlossainz55 @/charles_leclerc wouldn’t dream of it

user4 they’re so cute

y/nusername i wanted to soft launch 😔 soft launches are more fun

⤷ carlossainz55 i’m sorry mi amor, i just like showing you off ❤️

⤷ y/nusername …you’re forgiven ❤️

user5 I FUCKING CALLED IT!!! FROM DAY ONE!!!

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y/nusername

liked by carlossainz55, georgerussell63 and others

y/nusername wanted to soft launch cause it’s fun watching you all scramble for answers but i guess carlos is incapable so yk, here’s my wonderful, amazing, gorgeous boyfriend. (and about bali… no i didn’t “find him” 🫣)

tagged carlossainz55

comments…

user1 I KNEW THEY WERE IN BALI TOGETHER

user2 stop they’re so cute

user3 chef carlos came out in that second pic

⤷ y/nusername he kicked me out the kitchen. my own kitchen.

charles_leclerc i knew it was mistake getting you to come to a race

⤷ y/nusername girl stfu you begged

user4 vacation carlos is so sexy 😍

⤷ y/nusername i know right, making me feel things

carlossainz55 cariño ❤️

⤷ y/nusername te amo ❤️

user5 from day one. you guys will never forget how i called this from. day. one

alexandrasaintmleux stole my girl

⤷ y/nusername yk i’m always yours ❤️🤫

carlossainz55 when are you coming home?

⤷ y/nusername i’m on my way now

⤷ carlossainz55 good i have a surprise for you 😉

⤷ y/nusername running 🏃🏻‍♀️ 💨

⤷ charles_leclerc no.

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no part 2 requests for this one pls xx i hope you all enjoyed

comment to be added to tag list

taglist; @danielshoe @amorrziinho @soamericn @urfavwelshie @xylinasdiary @cleaswn @marknolee @shineforever19 @formulaal @manicpixiemom @lemon-lav

[somerandomdere]

Yandere! actor x crew member! g/n reader

tags: fluff, slight? yandere themes (duh), you can tell I don't know much about how hollywood scandal works, it's my first fic pls feedback

Fame was everything to Gabriel, it's been his whole life. He was a nepo baby, he has seen the cameras the moment he was born. Blessed with a good face, filthy rich parents, and a flirtatious personality, he was everything ladies wanted in a man.

Until everything came crashing down.

He got into a huge scandal he wasn't even aware of. He was accused of sexually harassing a fellow co actress, when in fact he never laid a finger on her. Sure, he was a well known celebrity and has a history of sleeping around, but that doesn't mean he will force himself on someone without consent!

The scandal got so big he was defamed everywhere. His sponsors withdrew, his parents and friends wanted to cut ties with him, and his girlfriend cussed him out before leaving.

It wasn't him! But at this point, no one believed in him. He started being depressed, having suicidal thoughts, and contemplating on quitting his dream career.

Enter you. Beautiful, radiant you.

After a long day of carrying heavy sets and helping out around the set. You were exhausted, so you went out to breathe some fresh air and smoke. As you lit up your cigarette, the main actor of your current show, Gabriel, seemed to be crying. You wanted to smoke, but you couldn't just leave a crying man alone! and you did want some privacy while taking a puff

"Hey... you alright?" You genuinely asked.

You didn't know much about Gabriel's scandal, since you weren't very interested in the affairs of celebrities and thought that fans should just mind their own business.

And you were just here to make extra money, what's the worst that could happen? You'll be gone in no time anyways. He'll just quickly forget you.

"Hey um..." You started awkwardly, and cleared your throat. "I may not be the best person that can comfort, but you can talk to me. I'll listen."

You thought he would be suspicious of you, because of his celebrity status, but he ranted to you and cried. How he was misunderstood. How the people closest to him never believed in him. How he felt so hopeless after he lost everything.

You reached out to touch his hand. You let him know you understood. How painful this period of life will be and how it will all be fine after.

You told him to take a look around him. Look through a different scope, see the people who actually cares for him. You told him how your uncle never believed any of those rumors and took advantage of this to hire him.

He teared up, not from self pity this time, but from realisation. Maybe he should abandon those people who never saw his true self anyways. For the first time, he looked into your eyes. The sunlight danced over your eyes, it reminded him of the warmth his parents used to give him, before they got too busy.

Maybe that's when he fell for you. He couldn't really point out when he fell head over heels, but he can kinda figure he feelings sprouted here.

He came back, stronger than ever. His acting caused your uncle's movie grossing to skyrocket. It hit the box office, everyone was talking about his movie through social media, how he so accurately acted his role, to the point they shivered. He decided to take this opportunity to clear his name. Due to the how overwhelmingly successful his new movie was, people decided to believe him.

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

"Y/N! My name was cleared!" He squealed into the phone. You sincerely felt happy for him and offered to celebrate with him.

He wouldn't let this opportunity go without a waste! He immediately said yes. He wanted to see your beautiful face again, and finally ask you out.

He will finally be yours, and you will finally be his.

@hana-no-seiiki

@lovverletters

@moyazaika

@yxami

@mightypossibly

@suiana

My inspos on how to write fics (and my fav fic writers!) PLS PLS PLS PLS GIVE ME FEEDBACKKK

[fanficimagery]

Joining the Biz.

When the hotels are all booked up, your cousin asks if a few friends can crash at your place. You accept, not knowing you'll be meeting some people who will become lifelong friends and get a shot at doing what you once loved. [Part One of Three]

Words: 7.7K Author's Note: Never thought I'd wanna write for wrestlers. Just a reminder that I am writing for the CHARACTERS they portray on TV and the way I think these CHARACTERS would be "at home", therefore everyone is single lol. I will tagging this as Jey Uso X Reader, but please be informed that it will not be romance heavy. I'm pretty sure there's not a lot of Jey/Reader interactions, but some of the stuff between them is cutesy rather than steamy. ALSO EVERYONE'S OOC BECAUSE I JUST RECENTLY STARTED WATCHING AND I DON'T KNOW THEIR PERSONALITIES JUST YET.

You're watching the new A Quiet Place movie when your cell rings. Glancing briefly at the screen sitting next to your thigh, you see it's your cousin that you haven't seen in quite a few months.

Pausing the movie, you answer the call. "Dum-Dum, you're alive!"

"Aye, prima, I got a huge favor to ask."

"Hey, YN, long time no talk. How are you? I'm good, what about you, cuz?" You retort a little mockingly.

Dominik sighs and your lips twitch in amusement. "Hi, prima. You good?"

"Never better. Now what do you need?"

The line goes quiet for a few seconds before, "So Monday Night Raw and Friday Night Smackdown are gonna be in the same arena next week and with all the wrestlers in one place, the hotels booked up pretty quickly."

"Okay, and?"

"It's in your city."

It takes a moment, but a lightbulb goes off over your head. "Let me guess, you need a place to stay?"

"Not me, but three friends do. They're scrambling right now, cuz. Please tell me no one's moved in since we last talked."

Chuckling softly, you say, "You know I'm gonna be the perpetually single prima." Dominik chuckles on his side of the line. "And my two spare rooms are always ready for a visitor. But if you're really desperate for a third, I don't mind bunking up with someone since my bed is huge. So long as it doesn't piss off any significant other, someone can bunk with me."

"Aw damn. Your bed is comfy as fuck, and you never let anyone in it."

"No, I just don't let you in it, Dum-Dum. I learned my lesson when we were little. You fight in your sleep."

"Do not."

"Do too. Now, am I rolling out the welcome mat or what? And for how long?"

"One sec." You hang on, listening to the muffled chatter. You don't know who it is that might possibly be staying with you, but you do catch Dominik mentioning that someone named Damian could benefit from sharing with you since he's the tallest and would actually fit in your bed. A few more moments and then he says, "Yes, and are you able to host for like a week or so? We'll be flying out early tomorrow morning. I can be at your place with your guests around five or six in the evening."

"That's fine. Do I get to know who I'm hosting?"

You hear Dominik squeak before, "Hi, mate. It's Rhea. Thanks so much for doing this. I really wasn't looking forward to sharing a small bed with someone."

"It's 'ya uce, Jey Uso." You chuckle at his enthusiasm, realizing his energy matches his persona on TV.

"And, uh, I'm Damian. I promise I don't punch or kick in my sleep."

You huff a laugh. "Priest, right? The tall one?"

"Yeah."

"You'll be good, man. The mattress of my bed is literally from one side of the wall to the other. The only way to get on it is to crawl on from the foot of the bed. Just ask Dominik."

"S'true, man. YN has always been weird about her space on the bed. She needs a lot of it."

"But I'll be fine sharing. I just wasn't a fan of waking up spooning or being spooned by a cousin. But walking, talking, kink material? Yes, please."

There's a sharp bark of laughter of who you assume is Rhea.

"What did you just say?" Dominik muses, more laughter ringing out as your words sink in.

"Don't worry your pretty little head about it, cuz. I'm only joking."

"No, you're not. You totally think he's hot."

"Duh. Ripley, Priest, the Usos, Roman Reigns.. they're all smokin'."

"Thanks, mate!"

"You're welcome, mi amor," you retort. "But just because I think they're hot doesn't mean I wanna be railed by them, Dum-Dum."

"I know." He gives a long suffering sigh that you can't help but smile at. "It's why when I realized we were gonna be in town and these morons needed a place to crash, I thought of you. You won't fuck around with my friends. Not like that."

"Aw, I love you too, cuz. Now get off my phone. I was watching a movie before you interrupted me."

"Alright, alright. I'll text you tomorrow."

"Okay. Bye, everyone!"

After hearing a chorus of byes in return, you end the call and go back to your movie.

After a long morning and afternoon of cleaning and changing out bedsheets for fresh ones, you're finally able to relax. You had planned to make a meal, but not knowing if anyone had any dietary restrictions, you decided against it. Instead, your cousin Dominik assured you that they'd pick up some food on the way to your house for you and themselves since you're hosting them.

You're cleaning the pool and making sure the water is balanced to be of use the next day when your phone pings with alerts from your security cameras out front. When you check it and see a black SUV parked behind your Jeep Compass and Range Rover in the driveway, you put everything away and head inside to greet your guests through the front door.

You open your front door, leaning against the door jamb as you watch the men unload suitcases and duffel bags.

Rhea Ripley, however, is walking up your porch stairs with four boxes of pizza in hand. "Ding dong," she muses.

"Hi," you greet. She manages to balance the boxes on one hand, reaching out with the other to give you a brief hug. "Did you guys have a good flight? Drive?"

"Yeah, dude, it was fine. Just this thing with the hotel was stressing us out, but you and Dom came through for us."

"Well, I'm glad to be of service," you say. Just then, the guys start walking up. "Hey, Dum-Dum."

You offer him a brief hug right before he personally introduces you to Rhea, Damian, and Jey.

"Hey, lil' mama, thanks for doing this. It was really cool of you to let us crash here," Jey says.

"It's no problem whatsoever," you assure him. "Now if you guys wanna come in and set the food in the kitchen, I'll show you around real quick."

Rhea sets the pizzas down on the kitchen island, Dominik volunteers to get drinks out, as well as plates while you show your three guests around. The main rooms they need to know on the first floor are the bathroom, the laundry room, your office in case they have any work that needs to be addressed with a computer, and one of the free guest rooms. Rhea and Jey glance at each other, but when you assure them the two guest rooms are the same size, Jey opts for it and sets his belongings in the room.

Upstairs, Rhea places her own belongings in the second spare room, peeks into the main bathroom between the bedrooms, and then the way Damian smiles when he sees the bed you and him are to share makes you laugh.

"Looks like I'm actually gonna get some good sleep this week," he says as he places his suitcase and bags off to the side. "Hotels really need to make bigger beds for those of us over six feet."

"Goddamn, you're tall," you mutter.

Rhea laughs, even more so when Jey tries to swap places with Damian because your bed looks really inviting as large as it is.

When you head downstairs and back into the kitchen, Dominik asks, "Did you show them the gym?"

"Gym? What gym?" Rhea asks, clearly excited.

You roll your eyes at your cousin. "It's nothing fancy. I just closed off my garage and turned into a gym that's perfect for me."

"I wanna see it."

Chuckling softly, you lead them to your small gym. When you turn on the lights, you say, "It's nothing sophisticated, but it's mine."

"Can we use it?" Jey asks.

"Sure. You probably won't get the workout you're used to with this equipment, but you're more than welcomed to this space."

"As long as we can break a sweat, we're good," Rhea says.

"Question," Damian says, his deep voice sending shivers down your back. It's really unfair that your cousin's friends are so good looking. "Is that a stripper pole?"

"Yeah." You laugh. "Dum-Dum didn't tell you how I bought this house?"

Jey's mouth drops open. "Girl, you a stripper?"

"Was a stripper," you correct him. "But that's a long story. I can tell it over pizza."

As you head into the kitchen, Dominik tells the four of you to dig in while it's still warm. Dominik leans against one of the kitchen counters, you hop up on another, and your three guests take a seat on a stool at the kitchen island.

Only after everyone has downed at least a slice and a half does Dominik start talking.

"Is anyone curious as to why YN has a gym in her home?"

"Because she likes to work out?" Rhea shrugs, glancing around at the random question.

"To keep in shape for that stripper pole we peeped out there," Jey tries.

You grin, shaking your head at him. Apparently, he really wants that stripper story.

Damian, however, seems to piece a part of your story together. "With Dom and Rey in the business, my guess is that you're training for the family business as well."

With your free hand, you touch the tip of your nose and point at Damian with a wink. "Sort of."

"YN used to train with me when we were younger," Dominik says. "Was supposed to join the biz when I joined."

"What happened?" Rhea asks.

"My dad." With a sigh, you set down your half-eaten slice of pizza and take a drink of your soda. "I really love everything about the wrestling life and was stoked to be a part of it when Tio Rey said I had potential. My dad wanted me to head off to college, but my mom wanted me to do whatever made me happy."

"And wrestling made you happy," Jey says.

You nod. "Very much. I started training after school, giving Dum-Dum a run for his money," you muse before turning a little sad, "but then my mom got sick. Her insurance barely wanted to pay the bare minimum, my dad couldn't keep up with the bills, and it was my turn to get an after-school job that paid."

Everyone winces in sympathy.

"After I graduated high school, I knew I needed a job that would pay well without a college degree, so I took up stripping. It took me almost a year to make a name for myself and have some regular customers that showed up for only me, but I did it. I could tell my dad was highly disappointed, but he didn't say shit to my face because my money was making a dent in the bills that had been piling up." You pause to give a sigh. "After five years, the treatments just stopped working for my mom. She passed, my dad and I made plans to purchase this exact house we're standing in, but then his new girlfriend had to go and ruin that."

Dominik chuckles. "Pendeja was under the impression my tio was paying for this house. Little did she know that YN was putting up eighty percent of the cash for this place and was going to be paying the mortgage while her dad only paid the electric and water."

You shake your head as you remember everything you went through with your dad. "We were at the meeting to close on this house when his girlfriend started gushing about the changes she was going to make and how it was her house, and I scoffed. I informed her my name was going to be on the deed, changes would have to go through me and my dad, and that she wasn't going to have a say so like she planned. Only when my dad told me to just let his name and her name be on the deed, and he was serious about it, did I pull out from the deal.

"The homeowners who were selling understood because they'd been dealing with me the entire time, and in front of my dad, promised that they'd hold off if I still wanted the place and would give me time to get the rest of the cash. I wasn't going to agree because I really didn't need a place this big for just myself, but the second my dad called me a selfish bratty bitch did I agree to purchase the house and cut all contact with my dad."

"Damn, girl. That's rough," Damian says.

You nod. "It was, but I made do. I continued to dance to make up the difference, bought this place, and then danced some more to put myself through college. I earned a nice little nest egg while getting a higher education, and now that I work for myself.. I'm golden. I'm peachy fuckin' keen."

"That's what I like to hear," Rhea says, smiling and saluting you with her own drink.

"But that's not all, is it?" Dominik muses. "A little birdie told me that dad's been advocating for you in WWE."

You smile as everyone glances at you. "Your little sister is a narc." Dominik laughs as you explain. "Tio Rey wants me in, not to fight in the women's division but to just be someone on the sidelines to cause interference since I'm so rusty. And since my work schedule is pretty fuckin' flexible, I can swing it. There's just not a storyline that can be easily manipulated to bring in an unknown female."

"Well, whatever happens, I hope you get in," Rhea says. "We need more ladies."

"And look, uce, you can come to Raw with all the cool kids or I can hook you up with my brothers and cousins on Smackdown."

You laugh. "You guys are talking as if I'm for sure going to work in the WWE. It's all just talk right now."

"Well, if you still got that talent from when we were younger," Dominik says. "I'm sure we'll be seeing you on the sidelines soon."

"Yeah, yeah. Shut up and finish eating."

As everyone finishes up eating, Damian and Rhea take it upon themselves to wash dishes and Dominik takes out the trash since he's on his way out to go get settled in at his hotel.

You walk with Dominik outside, leaning against your porch railing.

"You good, prima?" He asks. You nod, smiling softly. "I just wanna say thanks again for doing this for my friends."

"Don't even worry about it," you say. "I've been bored lately. It'll be nice to have some noise for a little bit."

"Yeah? Well, if you need anything, I'm only a phone call away. Rey too."

"I'll be fine, Dum-Dum. Rhea, Jey, and Damian seem really cool."

"Alright." Dominik gives you a hug. "I'll see you if I'm not busy working. You also have ringside tickets for Monday, so clear your schedule for that day."

"Thanks. Night, Dom."

"Night, YN."

Waking up the following morning, you stretch and quietly groan. For a moment you forget you have guests, but then a deep chuckle from the other side of your bed reminds you that not only do you have guests but that you have a guest in bed with you. You turn your head, spotting a sleepy Damian just waking up himself.

"Goddamn. This bed had no right being this comfortable."

You huff a laugh and roll onto your side, tucking an arm beneath your head. "I take it you slept well?"

"Yeah. It's been a while since I've slept in."

His words slowly make you realize that you've slept in too. "Shit. What time is it?" You sit up, patting the bed around you for your phone until you remember you placed it on the floating shelf connected to the wall above where you had slept. Turning, you snatch your phone and check the time. It's nine in the morning. "Fuckkk," you groan as you fall back against your pillows.

"What happened? You miss work or something?"

"Nah. Nothing like that." You take a moment to yawn. "I just have a routine, and I forgot to set my alarm," you tell him.

He hums in understanding. The two of you go quiet, sleep threatening to take you back under until you feel the bed at your feet shift and jostle. Opening your eyes, you find Rhea crawling into bed, burrowing under the blanket you're using.

"Oi. What are we talking about?"

You chuckle as Rhea snuggles down, hair mused and face clean of her usual dark makeup.

"Nothing. YN was just talking about how she missed her routine."

"What routine?"

"I run in the mornings," you admit. "Wake up at six, run two miles around the neighborhood to get the blood pumping, and then do whatever needs to be done whether it be work-work or house-work."

"What's on the agenda for today?"

"Not a damn thing. I cleared my schedule until the middle of next week," you say. "I'm free as a bird, so if you want to do something in town, I'm down. Or if you have errands to run or need to head to the arena to train, the Range Rover is yours to use while you're staying here."

Damian and Rhea are saying their thanks when Jey launches himself on the other side of you. You groan as the others laugh. "Damn, uce, this bed is huge. You can fit at least one other body in here."

Jey is apparently an affectionate person and has no issue sliding under your blanket as well. But while Rhea kept a few inches between you, Jey practically plasters his chest to your back and snuggles up to you with a content sigh.

You shake with suppressed laughter. "Comfortable, Uso?"

"Extremely. What's everyone doin' today?"

"Priest and I have a meeting with the higher ups," Rhea says. "After that, nothing."

"I'll be making use of the gym here to get the blood pumping," Jey says.

All three go quiet and you only speak when you feel Jey squeeze you around the waist. "Well while you guys are working, I'll be relaxing out back in the pool."

Time seems to freeze before,

"You got a pool?!"

"Yes?" You laugh.

"Alright, change of plans. I'm gonna work out and then float my ass in the pool out back. You got any floaties, uce?"

"Duh."

"Then yeah, we floatin'."

You grin sleepily. "You guys gonna be free for dinner?" At their confirmed status of being free, you say, "I'm feelin' steaks, jalapeño poppers, and roasted corn. Any objections?"

"Nope."

"No."

"Hell nah."

"This arrangement is proving to be better than staying at a hotel," Damian muses. "You sure we're not putting you out?"

"No way. I grew up with big family cookouts, random hangouts, and sleepovers and I miss it. When mom died, dad and I stopped going out as much. Dad's side of the family kind of wanted nothing to do with me when I wouldn't let his then girlfriend take control of the house I was buying, and while I kept in touch with my mom's side of the family, it just wasn't the same."

"Which side does Dom come from?" Rhea asks.

"Mom's." You smile sadly. "My mom and his mom were sisters."

"Family is everything," she says and you nod in agreement. "But blood does not define family. If the rest of your family won't recognize you, we will. You're stuck with us now."

As Rhea spoke, your eyes got a little teary. "Goddammit, Ripley. It's too early to be crying."

"I'm sorry." She laughs and reaches for your hand, squeezing it.

"Come on," Damian eventually groans, reaching over to nudge Rhea. "The sooner we get this meeting over with, the quicker we can get back to chill by the pool."

Rhea groans as she has to get out of bed and Damian immediately calls dibs on the bathroom upstairs as he scoots out of bed after her.

"And then there were two," Jey muses, brazenly pressing his face into the back of your neck as he holds you.

Chuckling, you free an arm from beneath the blanket and then gently slap him on the thigh. "Come on, Uso. Let's get sweaty."

"That's what I'm talking about!"

This time, you bark out a laugh. "Down, boy. We're just going for a run to get that blood of yours pumping before you hit up the mini gym."

"Not what I had in mind, but I'm down."

Since Damian's occupying the upstairs bathroom, you grab an extra toothbrush and toothpaste from your hall closet and head towards the downstairs bathroom where Rhea is. Knocking on the door, you wait until you hear her call out.

"Yeah?"

"Is it cool if I brush my teeth in there? I promise I won't sneak any looks!"

Rhea laughs. "Sure thing, babe. Door's unlocked!"

Your shower stalls have glass doors, so you keep your gaze averted. Fortunately, Rhea likes a steamy shower so even if you had glanced in her direction, all you would see is the outline of her body.

"Didn't want to sneak any looks at Damian?" She muses.

You laugh as you wet your toothbrush and apply some toothpaste. "I still think of that man as walking, talking, kink material-" Rhea barks out a laugh, "-but now that I've met him, he gives off major big brother energy. I do not want to see the peen. Well, I kind of do, but I'm intimidated."

"Oh my god. I'm gonna love hanging out with you this week."

You make quick work of brushing your teeth and washing your face, and then tell Rhea where to find the keys to the Range Rover in case you and Jey leave before her and Damian are ready.

Back up in your room, you get dressed in your workout gear- a cropped dark tank top made out of spandex material and a pair of black and white running shorts. You put on your running shoes, tie your hair up into a ponytail, then grab the strap that your phone zips into before securing it around your bicep.

You run into Damian on your way downstairs, telling him what you told Rhea about where to find the keys to the Range Rover and not to bother locking up if you and Jey are gone before he and Rhea leave. He thanks you for letting them use your vehicle and you head outside into the backyard, stretching in the little spot that you've sectioned off for yoga sessions.

Jey is outside as well, taking a picture of the pool where he's apparently set loose some pool floats and rearranged the chairs off to the side. You shake your head at him in amusement, twisting your body into the runner's lunge twist.

As you're holding the pose, stretching your muscles, you hear, "Look up, sweetheart. Let me see that smile." Instead of just smiling, however, you flip him off. Jey laughs, snapping the pic. "Is it cool if I post that?"

"That's fine."

As Jey does a few of his own stretches, he's messing with his phone. He's smiling the entire time and when he puts his phone away, you finish up your stretching and check his socials to see what he posted and/or said.

It doesn't take you long to find the post on Instagram, a post of two pics. The first is your pool looking rather inviting and the next pic is of you flipping him off. The caption reads, Can't wait to go for a swim, but first I need to get the blood pumping with this peach of a lady and an added kissy face emoji.

"You're ridiculous," you call out and he laughs.

"You see it?"

"Yes." In response to his post, you leave a comment with the middle finger emoji and two blue hearts. "Now come on, Uso. Time to run."

You and Jey round the side of the house just as Rhea and Damian walk down the porch stairs. You tell Damian that the address to your house is already programmed into the GPS should he need it on the way back and he nods, tossing and catching the key fob in his hand. You and Jey then stand side by side on the sidewalk, and after making sure he's ready, you set off at a leisurely pace.

As you round the street corner, you speed up a little more. Jey keeps pace and the only sound for a good while is your feet pounding against the pavement. Several minutes into your run, however, you notice Jey lagging behind. And when you glance over your shoulder to see if he's fine, you see him with his phone out again.

Not wanting to speak and expend your breath, you continue running. Jey follows you, keeping pace once more, and then urging you faster on the way back to your house.

By the time you make it back to your kitchen, you're panting and leaning against the kitchen island. "I'm never running with you again."

"Aw, come on, girl. That was fun."

"For you! What were you doing with your phone out anyway?"

Before he can answer, his phone starts ringing. He glances at it, then at you. "It's Jimmy. Do you mind?"

"Go ahead."

Jey answers what ends up being a Facetime call and you walk around your kitchen, grabbing yourself a glass of water as they talk.

"Ay, uce, you good?" Jey asks.

"Yeah, but not as good as you apparently. Where the hell you at that you have access to a pool?"

You're mid-sip, grinning against the rim of your glass when Jey points his phone at you. "Mysterio's cuz came through. Say hi." You awkwardly wave at the camera as you hear Jimmy laugh and hear him call out his own hello. Then Jey continues the talk. "So how's the hotel?"

"Boring. We either hang out in our rooms or at the arena. Nothing fancy or fun."

Quickly finding a pen and pad of paper, you jot something down and then slide it over to Jey- Invite him over. Pool's big enough and dinner is on me.

"Ay, uce, who's with you right now?" Jey asks after reading your note.

"Just Solo and Roman. Why?"

Jey glances at you and you nod. "You guys wanna come over? Pool's big enough and YN is grilling steaks tonight for us here."

"Shit. Forreal?"

"Yeah." You call out when Jey looks at you once more. "I just need a headcount so I can go grab the steaks and corn from the store here in a bit. Damian and Rhea are currently at the arena in one of my vehicles, so I'm sure they can swing by and pick you up if you guys need a ride."

"No worries, we got our own ride. We just need an address."

"I'll have Jey send it to you. Are all three of you coming?"

"Sure thing, ma."

Jey talks to his brother for another minute before ending the call, opening up his texts and handing you the phone so you can enter your address. You do so and then after downing your water, you tell Jey you're going to shower before heading out to the store. Jey tells you he'll tag along and to not leave without him.

. . . .

Later, when you're done shopping and preparing the backyard for guests, you smile wide when you spot your cousin walking in with a case of beer and a holler that the party has arrived. Behind him, Jimmy Uso, Solo Sikoa, and Roman Reigns enter.

You greet everyone with a smile and hug (if they offered), then proceed to show them where both bathrooms are and the room that Jey is staying in so they can change into their swim trunks wherever they're most comfortable. Then before you go back outside, you take a moment to change into your own two piece bathing suit that consists of a dark green v-neck top that pulls down over your head like a sports bra and dark green high waisted bottoms that have cutouts along your hips. And since you're not jumping into the water right away, you pull on a loose, white button down shirt with its sleeves rolled up to your elbows and tuck the front hem of the shirt into a pair of cutoff denim shorts.

As you head back out, you pass Damian and Rhea in the kitchen, cutting jalapeños in half and scooping out the seeds so they can put cream cheese in them before wrapping them in bacon.

Dominik is outside, looking everything over before meeting your gaze with a smile. "You're loving this, aren't you?"

"I miss hanging out," you admit with a chuckle. "And hosting isn't so bad when all the men are handsome as fuck."

He shakes his head in amusement. "You opening up the hot tub?"

"Should I?" You frown.

"Yes, estúpida. I can guarantee that'll be the hangout spot after dinner."

"Well go get it set up," you tell him.

As Dominik preps the hot tub, you make sure the outside bar is all stocked up. The beer Dominik brought and the beer Jey suggested you buy earlier is in the cooler, the freezer is filled with ice, your blender is clean and ready for margaritas, and there's a whole stash of alcohol in case anyone wants anything stronger.

You're connecting a laptop to the outside speakers when Damian pops up. "Hey, hermosa, the poppers are sitting in the fridge for when you're ready for them. Do you need anything else done?"

"No, sir. You and Rhea are guests. Go change and lounge. I can do the rest."

"Are you sure?"

You smile at him. "Positive. Enjoy your time off, Priest."

"Alright. But hurry up. You deserve to have some fun too before you start cooking."

After shooing Damian off, you head inside to quickly peel some potatoes. Four shirtless Samoans finally walk out from Jey's room, and you have to shoo Jey out when he tries to help out in the kitchen.

"I'm good," you say, swatting at his hands when he tries to grab the potato peeler from the counter. "Go have fun."

"But-"

"No buts!" His jaw snaps shut and you arch an eyebrow at him, silently challenging him to do something about it. Hearing a snicker, you glance at his grinning twin Jimmy and younger brother Solo. "Can y'all please go throw his ass in the pool? Not only did this fool have the audacity to jump into my bed this morning-"

"Rhea was in there too! I thought it was a group thing!"

"-but he snapped pics of my ass on our run this morning."

"You saw those?"

You glare at him, but end up laughing when his brothers look offended on your behalf. "I follow you on Instagram. Of course I saw them! You're just lucky my account is private. Your fans already stalked the hell out of my pages and tried adding me." And before Jey can say anything to defend himself, there's a small scuffle as Jimmy and Solo grapple with their brother before pushing him out the door.

You and Roman follow, laughing and then whooping when Jey gets tossed into the pool. Roman lingers and when you glance up at him, he asks, "You sure you don't need any help?"

"Positive. Go have fun, Reigns. And if you want, the laptop at the bar controls the music. I'm not sure what you like listening to, so have fun making a playlist if you want."

"Will do."

You get back to work in the kitchen, but it doesn't take you long to finish up. There's still a couple of hours before you have to get to work, so you head outside to see what everyone's up to. Rhea and Dominik are laid out on the lounges next to the pool, conversing with each other and with Damian and Roman who are inside the pool but hanging onto the ledge near them. Jey, Jimmy, and Solo are not too far, the three brothers splayed out casually on pool floats.

Taking a moment for yourself, you head to the bar and immediately work on a pitcher of margaritas. Rhea hollers that she wants one and you give her a thumbs up to let her know you heard her loud and clear. On reflex, you dig your phone out of your pocket and leave it on the bar so there's no electronic casualties as you walk by the pool's ledge. Then salting the rim of two margarita glasses, you fill them with the slushie goodness and walk yourself over to where Rhea is just sitting up.

"Thanks, mate." She sips her margarita, humming, and you do the same.

You had only taken your eyes off the pool's occupants for a minute that you don't notice one in particular is missing. When you clock Jimmy and Solo staring at you though, your gaze darts around for Jey. Their smirks grow and you tense up. But before you can question where the troublesome individual is, wet arms come down around you from behind. You yelp and a deep chuckle sounds next to your ear.

"You thought you could get away with siccin' my brothers on me, didn't you? My own blood? Nope. Not today, baby girl."

"Jey…" He starts walking towards the pool and you do your best to push back. Unfortunately, he's stronger. "Jey, I have a drink in my hand!"

"Not anymore." Jey had stopped right at the pool's ledge, right where Roman and Damian were, when the margarita is pulled from your hand. You stare down in shock at Damian who's now sipping it.

"You traitor! I'm giving you the shittiest blanket tonight, Priest!"

He shrugs, grinning. "I'll just steal yours."

Everyone starts chanting to toss you in and your toes curl over the pool's ledge as if that'll keep you from going in. "Jey, if you toss me in, I'll-"

"You'll what?"

You know there's no getting out of this predicament, so you reach back and grip onto the sides of Jey's shorts. "I'm taking you with me."

"Wh-" Before he can get the word out, you fall forward and take Jey back into the water with you.

All his weight falls on top of you as you go under water, but it's not as bad as apparently everyone thinks it is. When you resurface, wiping water from your eyes, you're surprised to see everyone looking quite freaked out. Even Jey looks worried, but you merely laugh in return.

"You good, uce?" Jimmy calls out. "That was a whole lot of fat falling on top of you."

You snort as Jey gasps in offense. "I'm good, Jimmy."

You tread water like a foot away from Jey and start stripping off your shirt and shorts while you grumble. You toss them onto the side of the pool, rolling your eyes when Rhea wiggles her eyebrows at you. Jey looks you up and down, even going as far to dip under the water. When he resurfaces, smirking, you swat the back of his head and end up treading water with him and his brothers for a bit.

Eventually, you all end up hanging out around the ledge and in front of the pool lounges where Damian and Solo have swapped out with Rhea and Dominik. Jimmy is the most vocal about getting to know you, especially when he spots you hanging onto his brother's back with Jey's hands supporting you under your thighs as you talk with everyone. He's never seen his twin so comfortable with someone he's just met like this.

No one bats an eye at your stripper past, hell Roman even cracks a joke about taking up stripping if wrestling ever falls through, and then Dominik happily informs them that you're actually quite the little wrestler yourself. You keep it humble though, telling everyone that you're very out of shape and rusty in the ring, and you're like eighty percent sure nothing will come of Rey's thoughts.

They all try to hype you up into seriously thinking about it if wrestling is something you love, but you brush it all off and tell Dominik to help you bring out the steaks from inside.

After drying off, you get the grill going and then put on an apron over your bathing suit. You get the seasoned steaks going on one side of the grill while Dominik fills the other side with corn on the cob that's been smothered in butter and wrapped in foil, as well as the jalapeño poppers. Then while that's cooking, you quickly head inside to dice up the peeled potatoes before dropping them into a pot of water so they can boil.

You and Dominik remain by the grill to make sure nothing overcooks. Then when you have to head back inside, he keeps watch while you mash the potatoes and make a small pot of brown gravy.

When the food gets taken inside, you set everything out on the kitchen island before calling everyone in. They all flood in with towels wrapped around their waists, and none of the men will serve themselves until you and Rhea have made up your plates first. So while you and Rhea take a seat at the table with full plates, you both watch in amusement as they moan and groan about the smell, practically salivating when they take their own seats with their own plates of food.

Dinner ended up being quite the affair, and you were very glad that you had cooked up more steaks than Jey deemed necessary. Apparently his brothers and cousin could really chow down.

Then after dinner and deciding to let the dishwasher get a workout, everyone takes a moment to let their food settle in their stomachs before heading back outside. Instead of the pool, however, they sink into the hot tub.

Drinks are passed around again and the last thing you remember is laughing uncontrollably with this group of people before everything goes dark.

When you wake up, you have a throbbing headache. But not only that, your mouth feels extremely gross, and you want nothing more than to brush your teeth and eat a mountain of breakfast foods. You take a moment to just lay there and wait for the room to stop spinning, and when it does do you take notice of the weight across your stomach. Slowly, you glance to your right and find Jey sleeping peacefully with his arm draped across you. But for some reason, the bed feels like there's more of a presence in it, and when you glance to your left you can't help but smile.

Next to you and under his own blanket is Jimmy, and then on his other side are Rhea and Damian who are sharing a blanket of their own. You're not sure how you all ended up here, but you carefully extricate yourself from the bed to get some answers. You're still in your bikini and you have a feeling everyone else is still in their swimsuits as well, so you know you're gonna have to do laundry so your bedding doesn't smell like chlorine.

After grabbing a pair of baggy sweatpants, a sports bra, and a pair of socks, you take the quickest shower you've ever taken to get the pool smell off of you and brush your teeth. You wring out as much water as you can from your hair, run a towel through it to soak up some more, and then run your fingers through the strands before tying it up in a messy bun just to keep it all off your neck.

As you pad downstairs and into your kitchen, you find Solo and Roman looking through the cabinets. You take a moment to watch them, grinning when you hear Solo quietly moan about wanting coffee, but not knowing where anything is.

"Two cabinets to your left." Solo jerks in surprise and you grin, walking to the cabinet yourself to grab the coffee grounds. You grab the grounds and filters, handing them off to Solo. "Not that I'm mad about it, but what the hell are you guys doing here?"

Roman's chuckle makes you turn around to face him. "You don't remember?"

"Unfortunately, no. I remember a lot of laughing in the hot tub and then sleeping." You squint your eyes a little, flashes of the night coming back. "Was there dancing?"

Solo snorts as he prepares a pot of coffee. "Do not check your Instagram."

"Aww, man. Who gave me the hard stuff to drink?"

"Your cousin."

"Dominik said you're very family orientated and that you needed last night," Roman says. "Rhea kept you supplied with margaritas, Jey and Jimmy took over the music and there was a dancing competition, your cousin decided shots was a good idea, then you got affectionate like a cat on Jey's lap-" you wince in embarrassment, "-and once the weepiness set in, Dom cut you off."

"And where is my idiot cousin?"

"Back at the hotel. He didn't drink like everyone else did. Solo, Jimmy, and I were capable of driving, but no one wanted to risk it with Smackdown in a couple of days."

"Jey jumped at the chance to bunk with you and Damian, and then Rhea volunteered as well. Jimmy, Roman, and I drew straws, and the shortest one had to bunk in your bed with everyone."

You giggle. "Poor Jimmy."

Solo grins. "He wasn't too mad about it though. He got to slip between you and Rhea."

"But Jey was quick to drag you all the way to the wall to keep Jimmy away from you," Roman muses.

You chuckle, reaching up to rub at your temple as you close your eyes. "Shit, guys. I just met you last night and already I made a terrible first impression."

"Nah, you're good," Roman assures you. "You don't know how bad we needed last night. It's been a while since we were able to unwind and last night was-"

"Exactly what we needed," Solo finishes.

"And besides, it's not everyday we meet a fan that's able to still be normal around us."

You freeze. "Why do you say I'm a fan?"

Roman slowly grins. "Well besides the fact that you have family in the biz, you also spent some time last night doing Ripley's entrance alongside her."

"Oh my god."

"Instagram," Solo says. "Don't check it."

"I hate you guys."

The two men chuckle and your stomach grumbling puts you in motion to make something to eat. Roman helps, pulling out some frozen hash that's in the freezer. He gets that going just as you throw some sausage links into another pan, and then Solo takes over making a huge pan of eggs.

Just as you're setting a plate of toast onto the table, Jimmy comes down. He doesn't say anything, but does grab himself a plate and load it up.

The four of you are quiet as you eat, exhaustion still lingering in everyone.

It isn't until Solo takes it upon himself to clear the table do you realize Jimmy and Roman are staring at you. You squint your eyes at them, then at Solo when he reclaims his seat. "What-"

"What are your intentions with Jey?" Jimmy asks.

You snort, grinning. "What?" Roman chuckles and you glance between the three Samoans. "Is this- is this a shovel talk?"

Jimmy shrugs. "It's not every day that Jey shows genuine interest in someone. We just wanna know where you stand."

Upon realizing just how serious these three are, your smile slowly fades. "I like him. I do," you admit. "It's very rare I connect with someone like I did with Jey…" You trail off.

"But-" Jimmy urges.

"But I literally met him like a day and a half ago! And besides, Jey's life is on the road," you tell them. "Being flirty and affectionate is all that I'm able to give him because if I give more…" You sigh sadly. "If I give more, it's inevitable that feelings will develop on my end, and I won't do that to myself." You pause, letting your words sink in. Your gaze falls to the table and your voice lowers. "As cheesy as it sounds, Jey is my definition of right guy, wrong time."

An arm is slung around your shoulders and then you're pulled into Jimmy's side. "Look at this way, sis. If your unc gets you in, you'll be traveling on the road with us and you can be disgustingly cute with my brother all you want."

"Shut up." You nudge him with your elbow. "Now if you gentlemen will excuse me, I need to sweat out all this alcohol in my system. I'll be in my baby gym while you do whatever you guys wanna do."

Roman starts to stand. "We need to get to the arena and train. Is it cool if we come back later?"

"That's fine. Like I told everyone else, I'm not working until next week. My house is your house."

"Thank you."

As Roman and Jimmy head off to the bathrooms before leaving, Solo surprises you by lingering behind. You smile at him, letting him say whatever's on his mind.

"For what it's worth, I really hope your uncle's serious about getting you into the business. I think my brother really likes you."

"Aw, Solo," you coo. He shakes his head in amusement as you lean in to hug him. "Outside of the ring, you're a good guy. But inside the ring, I'm sad to say that Roman is still my Tribal Chief."

Solo barks out a laugh. As he pulls out of the hug, he asks, "What are you doing Friday night?"

"Nothing. Why?"

"Roman and I are gonna have a face to face in the ring. You think you can crack his facade if I get you ringside?"

"Solo," you slowly smirk, "it'll be my genuine pleasure."

End Note: Alright, this was bad. I admit that. But I'm slightly obsessed with these characters. Why are they so handsome?

Spanish translations: Prima/Primo - Cousin. Mi amor - My love. Pendenja - Stupid girl. Estúpida - feminine version for stupid. Hermosa - Beautiful.

[quixotical-lymbo]

Hi I really love your transformers one fics and I was hoping if you could write a fic about B-127 meeting a predacon like dragon fem s/o in the surface while searching for the metrix with his friends, I would love that 😊

Pairing: B-127/Bee x fem!predacon!Reader Rating: SFW Summary: B-127 meets an unlikely stranger, and you meet an odd group of bots for the first time in a long time. Warnings/Tags:  first meetings, reader has a bad time picking up social cues, hehe B-127 is silly, has no concept of personal space, but he's also up in ur grill, size difference, D-16, Orion, and Elita are like 'damn not another one ffs'.  A/N: I'mma not put spoilers anymore since I feel like everyone has watched TFO at this point. Ty for the love!! Word Count: 800+ words 

"Uhh, guys what is that?" 

"What is what-" 

A loud crash made the group of four turn towards one of the dilapidated structures. A gaping hole could be seen in the roof as dust rose from the damaged part. 

"....we should go," Elita muttered as she began inching away while not taking her optics off of the building. D-16 nodded silently and followed the pink femme's lead. Orion and Bee, however, wanted to investigate. 

"Pax." A warning hiss came from Elita as she noticed the hesitancy from the two. "Let's go." 

"Yeahhh, I'm with Elita on this one," Bee began turning around when Orion stepped toward the building instead. 

"I just wanna get another look." Orion spoke as he walked toward the entrance of the building. He peered inside the darkness and leaned forward, nothing seemed to be moving or inside the structure. After a few more nanoklicks had passed, Orion hummed and backed away.  

Only something big popped out and tackled him to the ground. 

Orion screamed as well as the B-127. 

"Orion!" D-16 was quick to act and rushed over to his friend. Elita groaned and ran after D-16 to aid in saving Orion. 

"It's eating his face! It's eating his face!" Bee shrieked as he pointed at the weird beast thing on top of Orion. It wasn't that big, just a few sizes bigger than Orion and the more Orion examined the beast on him the more he recognized what it was. Seeing that Orion wasn't struggling anymore, the beast also stopped snapping it's maw at him.

"Hehe!" A strange laugh came from the beast as it began transforming. Before anyone knew it, a femme appeared where the beast was and sat on Orion. 

"You lot sure are funny-!" You didn't have time to introduce yourself before two bodies slammed into yours. You blinked and glanced down at the bots who were attempting to..shove you off? 

"Get off of him!" The silver mech demanded. 

"Oh! Yeah, sorry, sometimes I forget I'm stronger than most bots, but then again I haven't seen any bot for a long, longggg time so maybe I just haven't had any strong bot to test my strength against and-" 

"JUST GET OFF." 

"Okay! Okay! Geez," You raised your servos up and got off of their friend. "Better?" 

"B-better," Orion hadn't realized he was out of breath as he sat up and wheezed. "You're…a predacon?" 

"What now?" 

"A predacon," Elita's optics widened as she took in your form. "I thought…no, weren't they supposed to be dead?" 

"Who said that? I'm alive and well, thank you very much," You crossed your arms and huffed. 

"Wait, what's a predacon, guys? It sounds cool," Bee piped up as he bounced over to you. "You're like…really big and grrrr rahhh! What's that about?? What's your designation? Mine is B-127 but I like to call myself, b a d a s s a t r o n. Do you live here? How long have you been here? Hey, why are you living in this…lovely place? Hey, are you single-?" 

You sat there stunned as the barrage of questions assaulted your processor too quickly for you to even remember the first one. You turned your helm to look at the trio who only shrugged. 

"Uh, yes?" 

The yellow mech let out a joyous laugh that was infectious, your previous confusion melted away as you leaned down to examine B-127 or 'Badassatron.' 

"You're funny, I like it." You poked a claw at Bee's helm before picking at his arm. 

"Well, you're gonna like me more since…being funny is my whole thing," Bee didn't seem to mind your touchy-feelyness and even went as far as to poke and prod at you too. 

"Excuse me, sorry for interrupting the happy couple," Elita rose her voice. "But I think we have somewhere to be, let's go." 

"Oh! Right…you can come with us!" 

"What?" 

"I don't…"

"Why not?" Orion shrugged. Elita gave Orion a hard stare and D-16 just gave in with a loop-sided smile. 

"Eeeee! It's official!" Bee and you cheered as the two of you rushed ahead of the group. 

"...I mean, at least they'll balance each other out." 

"Yeah, now I won't have to entertain 'badassatron' anymore." Elita sighed but a small grin formed on her dermas. 

"I think they're kind of cute?" 

"Yeah, yeah, haul some aft, cupid." D-16 shoved Orion's arm and trailed after the chattering duo. Elita and Orion followed. 

😼 - I do not give permission for anyone to translate, copy, republish, or plagiarize any of my written works. I provide no permission for any of my literary works to be used in artificial intelligence. like my writing? consider buying me a kofi :)

honeycomb banner(s) by @thecutestgrotto!!

[syoddeye]

consequence / ink

price x f!reader | 1.6k words series directory tags: alcohol, miscommunication (resolved) a/n: john is a down bad, as the youths would say. thank you to my beloved @/pfhwrittes for britpicking. ☕

her cast is gone. a sleeve hides the arm, but it’s clearly off.

john holds the door for a customer, unsure if he ought to take another step or retreat while he can. he tried to compose a text on the flight, on the drive, in the shower. a heads-up, a ‘hello, i’ve returned, i’m sorry, don't worry about my face when you see it’—but he couldn’t. somehow, he thought simply turning up would be better.

when she spots him, the look on her face says a text would’ve been the right call.

ah, well.

she glares over the other man’s shoulder as he pays. he’s truly awful because it only makes him happier to see her. if she didn’t care, her face would be a blank slate.

the man takes a short eternity to move to the end of the bar. john checks to ensure he isn’t holding up a queue he knows isn’t there, if only to buy another second—

“yurbeck.” she blurts out.

“sorry?”

slower, she repeats herself, “you’re back.”

“i am. you’re healed up.” 

“you’re not.”

the black eye he sports is ugly but faded. yellowish, with ugly splotches of blood still pooled beneath the skin. he’d like to say, you should see the other guy, but the bastard’s probably jaguar shit by now. instead, he shrugs. “looks worse than it feels. can we grab a drink when you’re off?”

she glances and frowns at her coworker, who’s clearly listening in over the noise of the espresso machine and sighs. her uncertainty is as plain as day.

“no.”

alright. damage control. he can fix this, he thinks, heart crashing into his gut. he didn’t leave her on bad terms. “listen, i know—”

she interrupts a second time. “we’ll go to mine.”

his mouth shuts, teeth clacking. he won’t argue with that.

~~

before you leave the café, you check your last exchange.

>> thanks for dinner the other night. i had a wonderful time. unfortunately, i won’t be by for a bit.

> ominous > prison?

>> not quite. work. i won’t be able to text.

> well don’t be gone too long > i might forget your order

it’s ridiculous, in hindsight, all your worrying over a man you assumed ghosted you. a regular you took a stupid leap of faith for. the shopping trip was a way to test the waters, and despite an awkward intensity he seemed desperate to hide and his bad jokes, john charmed you. even when you extended the exam to your place, he passed. no snide comments about cece or the decor. he helped with cooking without being asked. washed the dishes. it was a wonderful time. he said it. you believed it.

but two months isn’t ‘a bit’. it’s a disappearing act.

you say as much, as annoyed with yourself as you are with him. he quietly concedes he could have explained better. you tell him friends don’t go MIA for weeks. he laughs.

~~

“funny you should say that.”

“what?”

john stares hard at her profile as they walk. this part is always hard. pivotal. he puts it simply: “i’m in the military—special forces. that’s why i was ‘MIA’, as you put it.”

her brows raise, but she doesn’t falter. “oh.”

his lip curls. he’s been cussed out, fawned over, and ditched entirely for sharing his profession. no one usually reacts so little. it’s a divisive topic. everyone’s got an opinion. 

“that’s it? oh?” john echoes, trying to tease something out. he once listened to her harsh critique of the illegibility of packaging at the café—he cannot imagine her indifference as genuine. “you can ask questions, y’know.”

“okay. where were you? what were you doing?”

crawling on my belly through mud and fending off giant cockroaches. shooting. getting shot at.

“seeing the sights, meeting people.”

that withering glare returns, but it’s shorter-lived this time. she huffs. “see, i assumed ‘special forces’ means it’s the type of military business you don’t get answers about.”

“yes and no. i can’t compromise my clearance.”

“what can you tell me?”

he smiles when she sneaks a look, irritation giving way to curiosity. “i sunburn very easily.”

she snorts. “no way, not with that complexion.”

“and, i have thirty, forty mosquito bites where the sun doesn’t shine.”

john’s bruised cheek hurts from grinning as she laughs. this is the first time he’s heard it uninhibited, neither bitten back nor politely smothered by a hand. he needs to brush up on his humor. he needs to hear that sound more often.

“sorry. i’m a mess.”

john aligns their shoes and removes his jacket. it’s hardly messy. her flat appears mostly unchanged, except for the small mountain of citrus on her dining table. a single banana. she starts to sweep it into a plastic bin, but he catches a stray orange, and his thumb drags over an odd indentation. he turns it in hand, eyebrows pitching at the sight of a rose etched into the skin.

“is this…?” 

he watches her press a machine into a foam insert, then hurriedly zip a case shut. the look on her face clearly says he wasn’t supposed to see that. 

she takes the orange and shrugs. “something i’m having fun with. a new hobby.”

“solid work for a hobby.”

“don’t tease.”

“you’d know if i was.” 

she excuses herself to change after setting the bin aside, stepping over a wary cece. the cat stands guard at the mouth of the hall. unimpressed. he can practically hear the and where have you been?

john gives the cat a fond but tight smile. he’ll need to get in good with her again, too, it seems. he checks the water bowl before settling onto the couch. cece follows to investigate, her tiny black nose tapping his knuckles when he offers a hand. 

her aloofness swiftly melts after he coaxes her into his lap, though he suspects that the subsequent stabbing of her kneading paws is her brand of punishment. little thing seems to relish it.

“you can move her if she’s too much.”

his face lifts, and he wonders if the cat feels the palpitations in his chest.

given what he’s only just learned, he shouldn't be surprised, but the patchwork tattoos decorating her arms steal his breath anyway. the impulse to touch is instant. to trace every fine line and jealously ask where she had them done and by whom. 

he grips the arm of the couch hard, and cece pauses her biscuit-making, eyes half-lidded and judgmental. dismissing the cat, he nonchalantly places a throw pillow over his lap and scrubs a hand over his face.

the plot thickens.

“nice ink. didn’t realize you had any. makes sense.”

“yep. twenty-one. mm. no. twenty-two.”

far more than what the shirt shows. “any damage?” 

her head tilts as she cracks the refrigerator, pulling two bottles by their necks. “nope. don’t got anything there.”

john takes a beer as she plops down. she tucks her legs beneath, and he studies the artfully drawn black shapes on the one arm: a network of barbed thorns and flowers, a woman contorted into a skull, a mouse sleeping in a sardine tin, a stamp, and several stars.

“do you have any?” she asks, taking a swig.

nothing as lovely as hers. the first and last instance john had time to sit for a piece, he was clean-shaven and further from the thick of it. but she’s shown him hers; returning the favor is only polite. “one.” he sets the bottle aside to ruck up his left sleeve. she shifts, and the tips of his ears redden. fuck he wishes it wasn’t so—

“traditional. ha, had you pinned for the type. cute.”

cute. the ink has faded into muted tones, the lines softened. the mermaid’s once coy smile blurs into a vague shape, and now that he looks at it, the anchor’s shank is slightly crooked. the subtle, natural distortions of time make the mermaid perched in the curved arm of the anchor appear as aged as his face.

“can i?” 

she extends a hand. has she touched him before? intentionally?

“yes.”

her fingers follow the lines without an ounce of hesitation or hovering. the corner of her mouth quirks when john instinctively squeezes his bicep, the mermaid’s blue tail flexing under her thumb. he can’t tell what she’s thinking despite watching her pretty eyes. he simply laments he doesn’t have more to show her if only to keep her this close.

john’s focus narrows to the heat of her hand as it moves. he imagines five perfect ovals burning into his arm hair where she grabs and adjusts her view. that his skin might melt, and her palm would graft to his limb for all time, barring surgical intervention.

the first words out of her mouth in a minute are a bucket of cold water.

“six inches, right?”

“what?”

her gaze flicks up. “from the tip to the base?” a prolonged beat passes before she adds, “or, i guess, to the fins of her tail?”

she’s gonna be the death of me. 

“i think so.”

“it’s aged well.”

“ah. you’re taking the piss.”

“you’d know if i was.” she echoes. “i’m serious. i’m guessing it’s fifteen or twenty years old? it could look worse.” her nails scritch in a tight circle for a half-second, long enough that he might combust, but she pulls away and swirls her beer. “why’d you stop at one?”

“busy schedule. and i don’t want to be too identifiable.”

“yes. the chops are the subtler choice.” she smiles behind the bottle. “now i’m taking the piss.”

john thinks of precisely three responses to her cheek, none of which make it to his tongue. he sips slowly, catching on a slip of skin when she stretches, the hem of her shirt lifting just so. a tempting black line practically hooks his eye before it disappears.

“oh, you’re funny. got me curious, though. which one was your first?”

her legs straighten, and she pushes to her feet. “it’ll be easier if i show you.”

[hwaightme]

With you

(masterlist) (taglist)

🫂 pairing: bf!seonghwa x gn!reader 🫂 genre: comfort, healing from hurt, established long-term relationship, fluff 🫂 summary: even when it feels like the world is crashing down, seonghwa was, is and will be with you. 🫂 wordcount: 2.3k total 🫂 warnings/tags: not edited, implied work challenges, clutter, focus, negative self-perception, crying, negative self-talk, catastrophising, physical/mental health, hugs, sharing struggles, unconditional love, supporting loved ones in darkness, feeling overwhelmed, love does not have a limit or price 🫂 taglist: at the bottom of the fic 🫂 a/n: this one was in the drafts, and now completed in a flurry, perhaps having waited for its time. hope you find comfort in this, and have love and your safe space. any notes, reblogs, comments are always appreciated. much love.

Sometimes, people said it was “not their day” - much like a sudden downpour. Sometimes, they could even say that it was “not their week” - much like a rainy season. For you, well, for you it was starting to turn into “not your life” - a perpetual cacophony of droplets pelting down and taking you with them. Perhaps when you were a child you did not pay much attention to your habits and your natural pitfalls, but as you entered adulthood and launched yourself headfirst into the corporate workforce to play the role of a diligent office worker earning your share and volunteered to take more and more responsibilities in every aspect of life outside of nine to five, cursed quirks were becoming harder and harder to ignore, or rather, to hide.

And this was exactly why you had found yourself in the darkness of your room, wanting to be abandoned by the world, staring at the ceiling and only seeing your mistakes and what had to be overreactions that were accumulating into a colossus faster than a snowball rolling down a hill. Nothing was right, and every single time, you were the one to blame. You couldn’t even change out of your work clothes into what, in your happier times, you called your favourite pyjamas - maybe it was because you were afraid to ruin them too. A rational thought? No. But it somehow ended up making more sense than the bingo card of emotional rollercoaster-inducing nightmares that kept on being filled out.

You did not want to count the minutes, possibly hours that you spent suspended in your own dread and misery. The time must have been considerable, since you could hear the turning of a key, and the slow opening of the front door to welcome none other than the subject of one of your present flavours of despair. Anticipating disaster, you curled up into a ball on the cold, now messy bed, and tried your best to force any tears away. Sleeves rubbing at wet cheeks and eyes, you did not want your boyfriend to see you like this. Weak, helpless, broken. Worn down into nothing more than the clumsy disappointment with medical bills and chaotic thought processes you actually have been all along. What a tragic ‘big reveal’. Absorbing everything around you and spilling out everything brewing within - you should have trusted those who had told you that you would make anyone and everyone run away. Who would want someone who couldn’t sort out their own messes before making another? Who would be able to stand someone who could barely last a day before ruining a piece of clothing, losing or breaking something, and on the better days almost guaranteeing a stain in the oddest place or some kind of trail of a sloppy existence? How could anyone rely on you when you could not even sort out your own noise?

With a trembling lip, you watched scenarios flash before your sore eyes of how Seonghwa would undoubtedly hate you. And when you heard a sigh travel from the corridor and crash against your eardrums, you knew that at the end of the day, all those people who had been saying the same thing over, and over, and over again to you were right. Until knuckles were starting to turn white you clutched at the material of the throw that had been lying on top of the sheets - without a doubt a protective measure, and here you were, ruining things. Never in anyone’s plans, you were an elephant in a porcelain shop. An elephant who should be put far, far away from anything human. An insensitive crybaby who both physically and mentally represented discord. You couldn’t even-

“Y/N, how many times did I tell you to not leave your shoes at the-”

Here. It. Was. The end. It had to be. It had to be the grand finale to what sliver of happiness you had left in your life. The little bit of festive cheer was already starting to evaporate, you could sense it. Soon, he would utter the words you had imagined many times. Soon, you would be alone and lonely. Soon, you would be where you were supposed to be according to what others established you deserved. You couldn’t breathe, with your back turned to the door, you could only sense your boyfriend’s presence, and catch the hint of a shadow falling over your frail, exhausted form. 

“-Y/N?”

You did not dare answer, no matter how sweet, or how supposedly concerned Seonghwa sounded. He could be coaxing you out of your cave to scold you, or better yet, recite all the words you despised, but had grown used to hearing. The only thing on your mind was the thousand things you managed to ‘achieve’ today. One of them included those shoes.

“Hey… talk to me,” voice more gentle, barely above a whisper, floats across the room and practically caresses your head. You couldn’t move. He would be disappointed even more if you were to do anything. You should pretend you were just a pile of laundry, maybe then it would all stop and you wouldn’t be out here losing buttons, breaking baubles and scratching up perfectly good heels. 

You sensed a dip on the bed. A warm presence. Your boyfriend scooted closer to you until you could feel him leaning over towards you, his chest hovering just above your side. The most impossible feat in the world was to hide yourself from him, but you could not help but try with all your might. A shiver jolted over your body despite you still being in a woollen sweater, resulting in a familiar, loving hand finding purchase on your upper arm. The thumb traced abstract shapes in a soothing motion, and soon enough, you were being turned a little ways backwards. Face to face with fear, you felt the tears that had stalled in a panic threatening to spill over once again.

“Have you… have you been crying?” despite being in the semi-darkness, the glistening trails on your cheeks must have given you away. One peck, another delivered by Seonghwa’s plush lips while a soft hand positioned itself on the side of your face, preventing you from hiding yourself, “...oh baby please, tell me, what happened?” 

Your eyes bore into his, not dissimilar to a deer caught in the headlights, as though you had been spotted committing a crime. While you had been in a relationship with a man who you swore was an angel for a considerable amount of time, so substantial in fact that you had a shared lease under both of your names like proper adults sometimes decided to do, there was one thing that you could not bear to do - burden him with your troubles. You could not allow yourself to complain, instead choosing to bottle up all the miniature disasters into one catastrophic potion, waiting until it bubbles over and only then crawling towards salvation in the form of a long shower where no one could hear you cry. It had to be you who was wrong, anyways. It was always you. Even in things that were meant to be outside of your control, you felt guilty, repeating this to yourself until illusion became fact.

It was always you who had forgotten to take something out to defrost or had not checked the mail again. Always you who had not put some abstract item away, or you did but not in the right place. Always you who had not found the energy or the time to clean something or to water the plants. It was you and your family and your friends who had to untie Gordian knots, and you were the weakling who cried, and cried and cried while others seemed to be able to stand tall and face any challenge. In the inevitable times of a storm, be it your own or another’s you were the thin and hollow piece of straw that was bent in the wind and all the previous beauty crumbled to join the rotting ground. Your inner voice was loud and hurtful, blockading you from believing in anything else except the fact that you could not handle a simple twenty four hours. A tiny piece of news, a tiny little change be it in schedule or tone, a little hurdle all had the capability to ruin you and make you fall, leading you to how you were now. Did you try to manage? Of course you did, always. Was it enough? Never.

“Hug?” There it was. An offer that could never be refused. Perhaps this was the last ever time you would be allowed to come so close to the love of your life. Heart to heart, the delightful, comforting scent of vanilla being the only thing on the senses.

With a quick gesture, Seonghwa encouraged you to roll over completely, and lift yourself so he could wrap his arms around you, as though sheltering you from a storm. His chin nestled into the crook of your neck, and he tightened his embrace until you had no choice but to give into the comfort. Tired body and mind, unwinding at his touch, falling apart only to be rebuilt again, better, brighter, warmer. The long-awaited spring. Legs folded, you wriggled to close whatever space was left between your bodies, grabbing a fistful of his black turtleneck sweater as though to confirm that this wonderful man was real. Indeed, he was. More than real. As real as the kiss he planted on your cheek. As real as the reassurance that poured from his soul without any words uttered. Well, none except:

“Let’s walk through it, okay?”

Your head - fuzzy from the overflowing tears and emotional haze. Your eyes, puffed up and reddened. And even then, Seonghwa was looking at you as though you were the one to hang the moon and the stars. How could you dare disappoint him and bring him down by being such a disaster? You could feel another burst of terror and despair welling up and threatening to spill over, and it appeared that your boyfriend did too, for the speed with which he pressed you impossibly close to himself was beyond your comprehension. It was as if he was trying to squeeze every bit of pain out of you, sorry that you had to feel what you were feeling, sorry that he could not take it away.

“I’m with you, Y/N. I’m always with you…” soft whispers - sharp swords on your dark consciousness, slashing at the demons that had been rearing their ugly heads again and again for however long. You had stopped counting after a couple weeks, pretending that they could be kept under control. Again, how wrong you were.

He was neat. Seonghwa was borderline pedantic at times, but you were convinced that that was the exact reason why the walls of your home had not come down yet. But, if it meant that you would be calmer, and you could see more sunshine in your inner world, he would let you cry into every single sweater, every single shirt, and would never dare let you go. If there was one thing he was infuriated by, was by whatever or whoever had ingrained in you that hiding was the same as powering through.

“I’m done, Seonghwa… I’m so tired…” you sobbed into the warmth of his chest, allowing for everything you had been holding back to flow through and out of you.

“We’re together, so we will make it through. Through everything. Whatever happens, happens so that the future can happen. We will power through it,” he repeated the words like a mantra, aware of the turmoil that he had to combat to get to you, but was going to never give up trying. 

“I feel… so small…”

“We can do it,” he cut you off, planting another velvety peck on your head before rocking gently side to side, running a hand over and over again down your back.

“So… so small…” the words disappeared, swallowed by an indescribable void that came with the onset of fatigue.

“I love you so much, Y/N. You hear me?” How could he? This was a question you would never be able to answer, but you thanked every part of the universe for giving such a blessing to you.

“I- I love you so… so much too…”

“So you and I, right now, we will lie right here, breathe, and then put all of the little pieces in order okay?”

“O-okay.”

“We share everything. Mhm?”

“Everything…”

A silence. Pangs of fatigue and worry about everything under the sun were not yet abating, but were becoming easier to manage as you focused on Seonghwa’s steady breathing, and the rhythmic thrum of his golden heart. You pulled away, admiring every part of him, not wanting to focus on anything else. You drifted into a trance, sinking deeper and deeper into his adoring gaze, unbroken. His hands found yours, thumbs tracing your skin in that same lulling way. You watched his lips as they let another miracle wash over you:

“I am so happy that I am with you.”“Even-”

“Especially. We. Yeah? We. And because we are ‘we’, we will make it through everything.”

The words echoed in your mind as you gave the love of your life a tiny smile. Your person. The one who was always on your team, even when you tried to delude yourself into thinking the opposite. He was here. With you. Through all the downs, through all the ups. When you know what is happening and when you need a little more time to figure things out. You and Seonghwa are here and will be here. Together.

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[rainkays]

EVERYWHERE, EVERYTHING. | LEE HARKER X READER

(SUMMARY) when you, an emt, meet special agent lee harker, it doesn’t take long for you to fall for each other.

(WARNINGS) none/mentions of smoking

(NOTES) hi hi everyone !! just wanted to say THANK U SO MUCH for all the love on my first lee fic and to everyone who’s been sending asks/suggestions for future fics <3 this was an anon suggestion/ask and i absolutely love the idea of lee with an emt gf so i hope u guys enjoy !

WE DIDN’T KNOW THE SUN WAS COLLAPSING

TIL THE SEAS ROSE, &

THE BUILDINGS CAME CRASHING

it was another long night, the cold wind biting at lee’s skin as she stood, leant against the side of an ambulance recalling the details of the crime scene she’d been called out to to local law enforcement while you attended to the victim in the back of the vehicle. she almost felt like a kid again when she saw you pull onto the scene. there you were, hopping out of the ambulance and rushing inside to help as soon as you arrived. there you were throwing her a soft smile like you’d known her your whole life. suddenly she felt a little less cold.

she’d finally finished with the scene report, the cops finally starting to trickle away as you’d finished up securing the patient, ready to leave. she was waiting by the car, carter still inside when you swung out from the back of the vehicle.

“agent harker?”

you spoke, head cocked to the side as you looked over at lee for a response. her mouth went dry for a moment, admiring the way the moonlight hit your face just right when you looked at her like this.

“is there something i can do…”

she finally spoke, mentally kicking herself for sounding so cordial in stark contrast to your soft tone. the gravel crunched beneath her boots as she walked closer to you.

“i was wondering if you’d like to take a ride along, that is, if you’re not too busy. might want to get his statement when he wakes up.”

you gestured toward the victim in the back of the car, head leaning against the open door as you watched the gears in lee’s head turn.

“i’m supposed to be waiting for-”

“harker! tag along with the poor girl, won’t you?”

carter spoke, making his presence known on the porch as lee’s head turned sharply and gave him a blank stare. he shrugged, smiling slightly as you let out a quiet laugh.

“i guess that settles it then.”

you opened the door wider, waiting for lee to climb in before swinging them both shut, your shoulder brushing against hers in the process. lee would have to thank carter later, she thought.

TWO BODIES RIDDLED WITH

SCARS FROM OUR PRETEENS

it had been a few excruciating months since lee last saw you. she was ashamed to admit that she’d spent so much of free time thinking about you. sure, her colleagues treated her like any other agent, tolerated her, but the kindness you’d shown her in one night was a cut right through the bone.

she could barely hide the disappointment on her face when she watched emt’s pull up to a crime scene, not one of them being you. it was selfish of her, of course. but she couldn’t help that you’d had bewitched her, body and soul. it was rare for her to be captured by a person like this. which made it even more hand shakingly painful the longer she went without you.

it was almost past midnight when lee had finally gathered her belongings and began to walk downstairs to leave headquarters. she was tired, eyes half shut and a dull ache in the back of her head as she flinched at the fluorescent lighting. she made her way to the elevator, the door almost closing, opening once more much to her suprise. and there you were. standing there like no time had passed at all. your med bag was slung over your shoulder, strands of hair falling into your face as you stepped in next to her. there it was again, that smile of yours. the one that she’d been thinking of ever since she saw you.

“fancy seeing you here, harker.”

you spoke, running a hand through your hair as you looked her over, eyes soft. she could’ve sworn the elevator wasn’t this hot when she got in. a strand of hair fell in your face, lee unable to stop herself as she instinctively brushed it out of your way. she didn’t miss the way you looked up at her, or the way your breathing stopped for a moment.

“what are you doing here so late?”

she spoke, trying to change the subject before you could say anything about what she’d just done. you looked over at her, clearly surprised that she decided to initiate the conversation.

“i was dropping something off and i uh- i thought i’d come and see you.”

lee couldn’t stop the way her head jerked to look over at you, a puzzled look on her face.

“what?”

you laughed, the one that had been playing in the back of her mind for weeks since the last time she saw you.

“i enjoyed talking to you when we met, you know. most officers or agents could care less about what i do.”

you trailed off, looking down for a moment before lee the elevator dinged and the doors opened. you walked out, the doors almost closing before lee finally snapped out of it and walked toward you.

“i don’t- you came to see me?”

“it can’t be that hard to believe, can it?”

lee shook her head, a genuine laugh coming from her, one that you wish you could’ve bottled up and kept in that very moment.

“you have no idea.”

EVERYWHERE, EVERYTHING

I WANNA LOVE YOU ‘TIL

WE’RE FOOD FOR THE WORMS TO EAT

it was a few months later, many nights spent in hole in the wall bars on your off days in which you sipped a whiskey sour and lee listened to you intently. most of the bars close to head quarters were filled with young, rowdy recruits and bright lights that were the opposite of the crowd you wanted to hang around with lee. you both preferred the more quiet, dimly lit environments that were only frequented by the few locals on their days off.

you’d grown to know lee more and more by the day. the way she purposefully showed up to scenes where her presence was likely unneeded, just to see you. you were guilty of doing the same, of course. stopping into headquarters, getting looks from the other agents as you swung around the doorframe into lee’s small office. she was always delighted to see you even moving to sit on the floor and give you her chair whenever you show up.

then there were the nights spent at her home, shoulders touching on the back porch as you talked over a cigarette that was passed between the two of you. lee felt the sort of tension that had built up between the two of you. it was inevitable, but it couldn’t help but make her hands shake every time she was near you.

“you know, i was thinking about taking some time off and going down to california.”

you spoke, exhaling the smoke from your cigarette before handing it back to lee, awaiting her response. she let it crackle between her fingertips as she responded.

“that sounds nice. i’ve never been to california.”

you hummed, leaning further into her side, her posture folding a bit to allow you to lean comfortably against her. you fingers found hers, dancing around, almost interlacing them together.

“i think the sun could do you some good. both of us.”

lee tilted her head towards you, absorbing your words. she thought about it, the idea of spending a california summer with you. taking a long drive down the coast, spending nights sitting at a quiet beach, watching the waves crash at your feet. sure, she’d seen oregon beaches, but they were nothing compared to california.

“i used to go all the time when i was a kid. my dad and i, we’d get to the beach and run straight into the water, i’d play catch with my dogs until the sunset and i was burnt to hell.”

you laughed, smoothing your hair over your shoulder as a small smile formed on lee’s face as she listened.

“i’d like that.”

she spoke, not realizing she’d said the words out loud.

“i’d like being there, with you.”

she clarified, your hands finally intertwining as she spoke out the words. your hand found its way to her cheekbone, resting there as she instinctively tilted her head into your touch as you spoke softly.

“me too.”

‘TIL OUR FINGERS DECOMPOSE

KEEP MY HAND IN YOURS

2 YEARS LATER, JULY 1992. CALIFORNIA.

the radio played quietly in the old convertible you’d bought for your birthday last year at an auction, lee’s hand draped over the wheel as you leaned over the door. the wind whipped your hair around, the smell of salt in the air as you navigated the winding roads. it was surreal to finally be here, with lee. you looked over at her, the smile on her face as she took in the scenery, much different than what the two of you were used to.

“we made it baby.”

you whispered, hand clutching her own as you smiled so hard your cheeks began to hurt. you never would’ve imaged you’d be here, with the agent you met all that time ago. it didn’t take long for you to fall in love with lee, not when she made it so easy. she was everything you could ever want. caring, attentive, smart, and incredibly in love with you.

the two of you had spent the day wandering around small beach towns, driving by the rows of colorful houses, the golden retrievers on the beach reminding you of your childhood. it was therapeutic to see lee like this, so relaxed, and the experience was for you too. it had been too long since either of you was able to step back from your work and truly decompress. after some slight convincing, you’d even swam in the ocean with lee. her hands rested on your waist, yours slung around her neck. the sun was setting as you rested your head against her shoulder, listening to the sound of the crashing waves.

part of you was a little melancholy, knowing this had to end, but the other part of you imagine what your life will be like here. some odd years down the line and maybe you and lee could find yourselves a home here, maybe get a dog or two.

“what are you thinking about?”

lee spoke, reading your mind like she always did. her hand brushed wet strands of hair away from your face, fingers softly brushing over your cheekbone.

“just how happy i am to be here with you.”

you hummed, enjoying the feeling of her warm hands on her lower back, a stark contrast to the cold waters you found yourselves in. she pulled you closer, a small act that never failed to make your cheeks warm, as you wrapped your arms around her tighter. the water rose and fell at your waist, the salt foam against your skin.

lee’s fingers connected the constellations between the freckles on your face, the california sun working wonders for you. she always had this way of admiring you that made you feel like you’d hung the stars in her sky.

her hands cradled the back of your head, fingers tangling through the wet strands of your hair. you rested your forehead against hers, the quiet sound of the ocean filling your senses.

“maybe we can stay here.”

lee whispered, a quiet vow to you.

[multiplefandomwritings]

How to be a child

pairing: reader x the grid (platonically), Pierre Gasly x reader

warnings: swearing, description of injuries/bruises, throwing up, passing out, unconsciousness, mentioning of hospital, mentioning of crash, angst

summary: You were the mum of the grid, you always had been. Until it one day it all just gets too much, and you are in desperate need of support. Suddenly 19 boys collectively become your mum, and you need to once again learn how to be a child.

notes: i am so, sorry for the wait. life has been terrible for the me the past months, but here it finally is: part two! as a small compensation, it is very long, and i hope you will like it! feel free to leave comments and/or feedback. likes and reblogs are always appreciated! also, feel free to send in requests! you can find the first part here. a third part will follow at some point, so let me know if you want to be tagged 😊 also, a question for everyone on the taglist: Would you like to be tagged in all of my F1 work, or just in this one?

disclaimer: english is not my first language, so please excuse any mistakes 😊

word count: 8.1k

taglist: @cilliansgirl @tyna-19 @hc-dutch @honethatty12 @sheslikeacurse @rb-danny @hc-dutch @hiphopdancer101universe @teddyluvs @dan3avocado @stillbreathin @mellowturtleangellamp @mcmuppet @shqwqrma @alice07ea @ricsaigaslec @witchychicken @rockyhayzkid @sheluvsf1 @hiddleslovs @laurevdd @caosfanblr @dessxoxsworld @fryskje @stickygladitorbear @goldenharrysworld @mehrmonga @anon-1112 @abcdefghijklmopqrstuvwxyzz @yunoguns @jaydenhateslife @itsandreaca @tsukishimawhore @formula-hamilton @cfjkdyihjkdd @whodis-26 @basicallyherondale @wtrmlnsgr94

“Shut up, you dumbass!”, whisper-yells a voice that sounds like Charles to you. “Or do you want the nurse to realize that we are way more people in here than allowed?” Several people shush at the same time, and you are utterly confused. You slowly open your eyes and catch sight of almost the whole grid cramped into the room. They are bickering with each other, and you cannot help but smile. “Hey guys!”, you croak out and your voice sounds hoarse. Immediately, they all stop talking and look at you. Pierre is the first to move and rushes over to your bed to take a hold of your hand.

“Finally, mon ange!”, he breathes out and you could’ve sworn that you can see tears welling up in his eyes. “What happened?”, you ask, still very much confused. You try to sit up, and immediately Max and Daniel rush to your side to assist you in your undertaking. When you are propped up, you look at your friends, who are standing around the bed – a hospital bed as you have realized by now. Pierre gently strokes your hand, and Lewis raises his voice to tell you what had happened.

After your collapsed in Pierre´s arms, and your friends and colleagues form a wall to shield you, Pierre gently picks you up and carries you out of the public eye and into Lando´s room. Everyone is close to panic, no one really knowing what had prompted you to pass out. The doctors, alerted by someone, rush in, and examine you. They cannot really find any reason, apart from the injuries in your face. They suspect that it might be something severe, so the whole grid is close to losing their mind. You are than a friend to most, rather part of their family. The called ambulance takes you with them, Pierre riding in the back with you.

When you arrive at the hospital, the doctors take you away from Pierre to examine you thoroughly, determined to find out what is wrong with you. It takes an hour, one more, and another. By now, the hallway of the floor you are on is filled with the other drivers. Everyone wanted to be there for you when you wake up. With every minute, the boys get more nervous, grow more worried. After four hours, the doctor comes out.

“We stabilized her. We assume that she suffered an acute exhaustion attack, caused by a lack of sleep and too much stress paired with a concussion. We expect her to sleep for a few days, but she was lucky. It could have been way worse. She will need to rest as much as possible once she wakes up to ensure that neither her brain nor her heart will suffer from long term consequences.”

The drivers are all shocked. You are still so young, and now this. They realise, all for themselves, that maybe they had demanded too much of you for too long. Guilt threatened to eat up them, more with every day you didn’t wake up for. Until three later, on a Wednesday, you finally wake up again.

You are quiet for a few minutes. Just when you are about to say something, the door opens and a nurse steps in. When she sees all the drivers, she rushes them out - all except one. Pierre doesn’t leave your side. He sits with you when the doctor comes in and tells you that you were lucky. He makes it very clear that you must take time for yourself to make sure that you would not suffer lasting effects. You nod, trying to understand everything he says.

“Would you mind leaving me alone for a minute, please?”, you ask. The doctor nods, while Pierre stays by your side. “You too, Pierre.” He looks at you, shocked for a minute, offended even. “Don’t send me away, y/n. You seem like you need someone with you right now.” “Just give me a fucking minute alone, Pierre!”, you snap at him, and he gets up and leaves without another word. You know that wasn’t fair, but your whole world just turned upside down. You will apologize later.

You clench your hands to fists; you feel like you are going to lose your shit. The feelings threaten to drown you, you are barely able to keep yourself over the water. You need to get out of here – you want to be everywhere but here. You lift yourself out of bed, determination flooding your system. When you stand up, you grind your teeth. Your whole body is almost shaking because just the act of getting up was so exhausting. You feel so very small, weak, and fragile. You take two, three slow steps, holding onto the hospital bed with every step. When you reach the end of the bed, you back another step forward, but without holding onto something, your body gives in. You crash to the ground; your body hits the floor with a loud thud.

Immediately, the door opens and Pierre storms in. He sees on you sitting on the floor, knees pulled to your chest, head buried in your hands. He rushes over to you and takes you in his arms. “I am so afraid, Pierre!”, you sob into his shoulder as he holds you. His heart breaks right there and then. You cry for what feels like hours, and when you are done, Pierre helps you onto the bed again. The doctors had allowed for you to leave the hospital in Brazil to be taken care of by your personal doctor in Monaco. However, much comes with that – your transport must be organized, you have to talk to the team, and all of that.

You are starting to panic, you feel so exhausted still, you have no idea how you would be able to manage all of that. “You don’t need to worry, ange. We are scheduled to fly out tonight in the private jet, everything around the transport is organized. Only Max, Daniel, Lando and I will join so that you can rest as much as possible. We will have to leave for the weekend, but I will promise you that we will be back as soon as possible.” You nod, overwhelmed that they cared so much for you. After one last check up, the doctor wishes you all the best and discharges you.

They provide you with a wheelchair because you are still weakened and every bone in your body hurts – even the ones you didn’t know you had. Pierre pushes you out of the hospital and towards the parking lot, where you can spot Daniel standing between an unfamiliar car. Usually, all of you drove fast and sporty cars, but this was a car you expected to see in a suburban neighbourhood where everyone had at least three kids.

“Nice ride!”, you say, and your voice is still hoarse. You are pretty sure that you look like shit, but the boys do not let on. They don’t look at you with pity and you are beyond grateful for that. “Thanks, we had to improvise a bit!” Daniel walks over to you and pulls you out of the wheelchair with ease, lifting you into his arms bridal style. He carries you over to the car, careful to not hurt you. However, his limb coordination when it comes to carrying people apparently isn’t the best. You close your eyes when you see the car door frame coming closer, but instead of bumping into the hard metal, your head is met with a soft surface. You open your eyes and see Lando smiling at you. The boy had put his hand over the door frame, softening the impact. Your eyes almost start to water at the sweet gesture.

Once you are seated, Pierre climbs into the back with you and helps you to put your seatbelt on before he settles himself in. Lando sits in the back as well. Max is the passenger princess. Daniel is starting the car, and you watch Max still without his seatbelt on. Before, you can say something, Pierre turns to Max. “Put your fucking seatbelt on!”, he says and a small smile appears on your face. You don’t really catch more of the chatting, as just the way to the car exhausted you completely and you opt for some sleep. Pierre´s shoulder functions as your cushion, and it is quite comfortable, at least for this purpose. Already almost in slumber you only subconsciously realize that someone puts a blanket over you. You snuggle closer into Pierre and fall into a deep and dreamless slumber.

You wake when someone unbuckles your seatbelt. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you!”, Pierre apologizes, but you wave it off. “I think I have slept enough the past days”, you joke half-heartedly, and he gives you a tiny smile. Only now in this close proximity, you can see the dark bags under his eyes, the worry on his face. He looks five years older, beard unshaved, little stubbles growing in a disorganized way. “I am sorry for causing you so much worry”, you whisper barely audible, but he hears you, like he always does. He shakes his head. “Mon ange, no. None of this is your fault, if anything, it is ours.” You are just about to ask what he means when Daniel interrupts the two of you.

“We should get going!”, he says, and Pierre helps you out of the car. He carries you the last few meters to the jet, and places you down on one of the seats. Before you can engage in a conversation with him, Lando joins you on the seat next to you and slams a big bag on the table. “Y/n, I hope you are hungry!” You focus your attention on him and just now realize how hungry you are. “Starving, actually!” Lando smacks his lips and starts unpacking the bag. “Well, in that case, good for you, because I come prepared!” There is everything you could ask for – snacks, fruits, sandwiches. You decide to start with an apple, which Lando insists on cutting into small pieces for you. “Lando!”, you laugh, “I am not a child!” He grins. “Well, y/n, you need care and nursing and love now, so we all have decided to you are no longer our mum, you are now our child!” You flip him off playfully and continue to eat your apple pieces quietly while Lando talks your ear off, which you honestly do not mind. It distracts you from all the negative thoughts.

After a few hours, Daniel, Lando and Max are asleep. You are quite awake on the other hand and the soft shine of a display coming from Pierre´s seat indicates that he as well is awake. You carefully walk over to him, holding onto the seats. It takes all of your strength to make the few meters, but you manage and fall into the seat next to the Frenchman. He looks up from his phone and gifts you a smile. “Hey”, you say softly, “You okay?” Pierre shakes his head but continues to smile. “You are unbelievable, y/n! You are the one that was in the hospital the last days, not me.” “I can still worry about you guys though, no?”, you grin crookedly, but Pierre is still very serious. “Of course, but the important thing now is that you need to get better, and to do that, you need to learn to say no, and you need to learn to listen to yourself.” You want to interrupt him, but he doesn’t let you. “But most importantly, we – me and the others – need to learn to get our own shit together, and not always bother you!”

You can feel that he is a bit angry, so you gently place your hand on his biceps. “Pierre, you never bothered me. It was just a bit too much the past weeks! Everything will be fine, in fact, everything is fine.” Pierre shakes his head at you, you can feel that he is still upset. “No, nothing is fine. The last days were absolutely horrible, y/n. I was so afraid; I don’t think I have ever been this afraid. I couldn’t sleep because I was afraid that I would wake up and someone was going to tell me that you died. It was a nightmare, I don’t ever want to feel that again – so I am begging you, please take all the time you need to rest and heal. I cannot lose you.” You are a taken aback by his words. “I will, I promise!”, you say, and Pierre pulls you onto his lap and into a tight hug. He doesn’t let go for a while, and you don’t mind. It keeps you from falling apart.

You land a few hours later, you before you can protest, Lando lifts you out of your seat. “My turn!”, he laughs, and you decide to not pick a fight. “Yeah, it’s cool”, you say and playfully roll your eyes, “Just pick me up whenever.” Lando makes a sad face, and you can sense that he feels bad. “I am sorry”, he utters, “I should have at least asked if it was okay for me to pick you up!” You shake your head. “Don’t worry about it, its not like a have a choice. I can´t exactly walk away”, you joke. You know it is a bad joke, and maybe it was too early to joke about it. For a moment, it is quiet, but then Daniel lets out a little snort. He tries his best to keep in a laugh, but when Max looks at him, he cannot help himself and bursts out laughing. The Dutchman joins him, so do you, and in a matter of seconds, Pierre and Lando are laughing as well. It takes you a while to calm down, because all of you just really needed to laugh off the shock of the past days.

Lando carries you down and into the car. Charles had offered to pick you up and drive you to your apartment, joined by Pierre. “Hey Charles!”, you greet the man and move over to give him an uncomfortable hug over the middle console. He doesn’t seem to mind, however. “You don’t know how good it is to see you, y/n!” You smile at him after you pull away, and he starts the car as soon as Pierre has settled in as well. A bit later, you arrive by your apartment building. Pierre gets out the wheelchair, and helps you to climb in. It is still new for you, and you hope that you will get rid of it soon. It makes you feel utterly helpless, but just the few steps in the plane earlier were hard and exhausting. For a moment, the thought that you might never be able to race again crosses your mind, but you push it away violently. So far, you had achieved everything in your life that you had set your mind to, and you sure as hell will not let anything stop you now.

It feels good to be back in your own space. You exhale deeply and you immediately start to feel a bit better. The familiar surrounding eases your negative thoughts, and you find yourself calming down. “Alright”, says Charles, “I will get going and get the crutches from the doctor, and get groceries, then I will be back!” Before you can say something, he is out of the door. “The doctors in Brazil contacted your doctor here to consult and discuss next steps.” You nod, feeling slightly overwhelmed. Pierre tells you bit more about the topic, but you can’t really focus your attention. At some point, you let out a big yawn. Pierre chuckles. “Seems like someone is tired!” “Exhausted”, you tell him, and he gives you an understanding nod. “How about you take a nap?”, he offers. “Sounds super!”

He helps you into your room, where you quickly change into some shorts and a shirt. After you are done, Pierre enters the room with a glass of water in his hand. “I know that you like to keep a glass of water next to your bed, so I figured I would bring you one!” “How do you know?”, you question. He shrugs his shoulders. “You mentioned it one day…” “Thank you!” He smiles at you, puts the glass down and grabs the blanket. He throws it over you and gently tugs you in. “Sleep well, mon ange!”, he says but you are already sound asleep.

The next week is exhausting, more mentally than physically. You are able to leave the wheelchair rather quickly, but you still the need the crutches for support. Despite the fact that you weren’t really injured, at least not in the traditional sense, your body was still weak. You just cannot really rely on it right now, so the crutches are there to support and help you. You are just happy that you are out of the wheelchair and that you have a tiny bit of your independency back. What helps even more however, is the constant support of your friends. They cannot be with you right now, as there are still two more races for them to finish. Your doctor appointments keep you occupied, your family visits and helps you with whatever you need. Your friends call you, sometimes just to tell you minor things but it helps. You don’t feel isolated, and you cheer on them from your living room. Right now, it feels okay to not be on track – you feel like you are going to be okay.

The season ends in the end of November. Winter has Monaco in its grip, the first snow falls. Everything looks so pretty that you cannot really feel down. On top of that you love Christmas, and you keep yourself busy with present shopping, at least until you have to get ready to leave for England. It is a Tuesday, and you had just been at the doctor’s office. While your doctor is sure that you will fully recover, he also gives you a real perspective on things. The possibility is there that you can race next season, but the cost could potentially be high. He tells you to consider your options. Lando picks you up from this appointment and together you drive to the airport. The two of you were scheduled to fly to the McLaren headquarters for a week to discuss the next possible steps. The flight goes over quick, you are unusually quiet – and Lando just lets you be. He can sense that you need the time, so he gives it to you.

When you step out of the airport, Zak waits for there for you personally. The older man pulls you in a tight hug, it had been a while since he had seen you in person. “Good to see you, kid!”, he tells you with a fatherly tone in his voice. You grin at him, happy to see him. You climb into the car and Zak drives you to his home, to have dinner with his family. You quite enjoy it, but you feel yourself get tired after a while. Lando notices and decides to call a taxi for the both of you to drive to the hotel.

You share a suite, in case something was to happen during the night, but you sleep well. After a nice breakfast, you are getting picked up for the headquarters and inside you are feeling very nervous. You are good at hiding it, but you fiddle with your fingers. Lando takes one of your hands and gently squeezes it. Only now that you are not good on foot you realize how big the McLaren compound really is.

The core team meets in a room close to the entrance for your sake. They are all beyond happy to see you, everyone is relieved that you are on your feet again, at least partly. It is not many people, as you agreed with Zak to discuss the next steps in a small team before you met with everyone. After exchanging some courtesies, it is time for you to tell them of your decision. You take a deep breath and Lando once again squeezes your hand. No one knows what you are going to tell them, and you don’t really know how to tell them. You decide it is best to rip the band aid of fast.

“After consulting with my doctor yesterday, I think it is best if I resign for indeterminate time, until I am fully recovered.” The room is eerily quiet, everyone is a bit shocked. “While I could possibly sit myself into the car next season, I would not be able to give you guys the results you deserve. Trust me, this is not what I wanted, but if I race next season, the possibility of lasting health issues is very likely, and I do not believe that some half-assed results are worth that. I want to apologize –“ “Don’t!”, Zak interrupts you, “We have all developed a soft spot for you in our hearts, and we were all shocked when we heard what the doctors in Brazil said. Your health comes first. While we are deeply saddened about you resigning for indeterminate time, I believe I speak for all of us when I say that we would like to keep you around one way or the other.” You nod, tears welling up in your eyes. On the one side because they were so supportive, on the other side because you stating your resignation makes it a lot more real.

Now it is official – at least within your team – that you will not start next season. It feels a bit like your world is ending, your goals are out of your reach. You feel hopeless, and like you are – quite frankly – an absolute loser. Self-doubts threaten to eat you up, you want to curl up in a ball and just stop existing for a while. You spent the rest of the meeting lost in your thoughts, and the next days go by in a blur. You visit the headquarter many more times that week, talking to the team, discussing the best way to communicate your indeterminate resignation. You call Pierre a lot, telling him about everything. He deserves to know from you, so do all of your other friends. You cry a lot those days, Lando never quite leaving your side. He is there for you, so is everyone else. Yet you find yourself withdrawing yourself from almost everyone except Pierre. You call him daily, sometimes more than once. Many times, he has to listen to you softly sobbing into the phone, and it breaks his heart. But he never blames you, he always listens, he always comforts you.

After an exhausting week, there is only one more thing to do – film your resignation video. You cry during the video too, but you don’t mind – you love your fans, and they deserve to know the truth and witness your real feelings about your resignation. In the end, the video is 10 minutes long – you explain your reasons, you promise that you will be back. And you mean that. Somehow, you have found your fighting spirit once again. The video ends with a collage of your best moments in F1. A tribute to your achievements so far, but you are now certain there will be more eventually. You will put all the work in necessary so that you would heal properly, and that you would be able to sit in the car next year.

You fly back to Monaco alone – Lando would have come with you, but you told him to stay home with his family for a bit. He drove you to the airport and saw that you get to the plane just fine. When you land, Lewis and Valtteri are already there to welcome you back. They are kind and gentle and brotherly, and your soul heals a bit when they take you to lunch that day. They don’t make you feel like a loser anymore, they tell you that they are proud of you for making this hard decision. The three of you share things that you have never spoken about before, and it helps. The sun is shining on a white Monaco and your heart becomes full and hopeful. You are still weak and exhausted, and when they take you home you are more than ready to sleep, but it is different.

The next week is a busy week once again. You visit your doctor and your personal trainer a lot, discussing measures to help you healing, and setting up a slow training program that would help keep you in shape, while not overburdening your body. You still call Pierre every day to talk to him. He is with his family in France for Christmas, and he has invited you to join him. You tell him you will once you feel better. He understands, like he always does. He makes you laugh with his joke, and he tells you he misses you. You miss him, and when he drops one of his compliments, it is somehow different now. Your cheeks heat up sometimes, and your heart skips a beat.

Christmas is nice, and special. You are home, and for once you have nothing to do – no real training, only little exercises. No media duties, and you enjoy the time with your family. After New Year’s, you travel back to home to Monaco to rest and heal. The boys are all there for you – for whatever you need. They ask you how you are all the time, and they help you where they can. It is the little things, really, and one day you feel particularly bad about it. You cannot really give them anything back at the moment, and you feel like you are using them. You wake up with those feelings that they, and to distract yourself from them, you go on Instagram. Scrolling through your feed, you occasionally send them funny videos. It was the least you could do. After an hour or so, you lift yourself out of the bed, finally. You are very hungry, and you think about ordering something, when suddenly your doorbell rings. You need some time to reach it, walking slowly with your crutches, and when you open it, Daniel stands there in front of you. “You send me the first Reel on Instagram like one hour ago, so I figured you are hungry by now. I brought groceries and I am here to cook for you!” “I… You shouldn’t have!”, you try to argue, but Daniel already moves past you and into your kitchen. You follow him slowly.

When you see that he is already collecting dishes to prepare breakfast, you just sigh. He picks up the defeated sound and perks up, smiling at you. His face falls when he sees the way you look at him, like you are almost crying. “Hey hon, what´s up?”, he asks you. “I just… I feel so bad about all of this. I feel like I am using all of you, and like I am not giving anything back!” Daniel shakes is head violently, and he comes over to pull you in a hug. You almost disappear in it, and he draws soothing circles on your back. “Y/n, don’t ever say or think something like that again. You have almost given your life for us, and this is what friends are here for. We help each other when we can – sometimes one or the other does give a bit more. It equals out in the end. Besides, you still listen to all of us rambling, and you still give the best advice!” He pulls away and a tiny smile is on your face now. He ruffles your hair and before you can protest, he is back in the kitchen. “Now, go rest your ass on the couch, mate!”, he says, and you cannot help but laugh when you limp over to the living room.

Breakfast is nice, and Daniel makes you laugh with his stupid jokes. It is good to feel like this. You know that right now was the easy part – your friends are here, and they all have time for you. But you are afraid of what is coming after the winter break – when they are all gone, and you won’t be able to be with them doing the things you love the most. It will most likely break your heart, but you try not to think about it, at least not now.

It is a few weeks later, the next season will start soon. You have picked up training again, very slowly. It mainly consisted off walking on the treadmill, holding onto the sides. A few easy exercises that keep your body mobile and flexible and your muscles occupied. Spring is blooming in Monaco; the first sun is shining. Everything is going well. Well, almost everything. Right now, you are beyond embarrassed.

You had felt better today, so you had taken the taxi down to your favourite park to enjoy some time there. It had been late afternoon already, you had walked around a bit and sat down in a small restaurant to eat dinner. Now, it is later than expected, it was dark, getting colder by the minute, and you are beyond exhausted. Furthermore, the crippling feeling in your legs leaves you to panic, which is why you – against all rationality – do not call a taxi. Instead, you call Max, who picks up almost immediately. “Can you pick me up, Maxie?”, you choke out, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. “Send me your location!”, he says, and you can hear that he already picks up his keys. You nod, even though he cannot see that, and send him your location with shaky fingers. Max is there just ten minutes later to collect you. As soon as you see him, the tears really start to flow. He wraps his arms around you, his sweatshirt is collecting your tears, and he whispers encouragements while he gently strokes your hair. After a few minutes, you calm down and he helps you to his car.

He holds open the passenger door for you, and you climb in, almost falling because your legs are giving out under you. But Max is there, he catches you, and helps you. He closes the door behind you and gets in on his side. “You okay?”, he asks. You nod, using the sleeves of your sweatshirt to wipe away the leftovers of your tears. Max starts the car and drives through the dark streets of Monaco. You don’t know where he is going until he stops at the drive through of a Fast-Food restaurant. “I figured the occasion called for ice cream or a milkshake”, he tells you when you he sees your questioning expression. A tiny smile creeps onto your face. Max orders you a milkshake and gives it to you. You hold it in two hands like a child and Max cannot help but laugh. You pout a little, but ultimately smile when he takes a picture of you holding the cup in your hand.

He drives you to your place and helps you up to your apartment. Reaching the door, he stops for a moment and thinks. “Would you like some company tonight?” For a moment you think about telling him to go home, because you don’t want to trouble him any further. But being alone tonight sounds terrible, so you push down the unnecessary feeling of guilt and nod. He steps into the apartment with you and helps you take of your jacket. Together, the two of you settle in on the couch and put on a movie. You feel your eyes get heavy, but before you can tell Max that he might as well go home as you are about to fall asleep, you slip into slumber.

The next morning, you wake up in your bed. You stretch and roll over to your phone. A text from Max. “Don’t get scared when you wake up, I am sleeping on the couch.” You smile to yourself and get up. Max is still asleep, so you climb into the shower. Once you are done and dressed, you make your way into the kitchen to make breakfast. Already in the hallway, you hear voices. You are confused – you know that Max is here, but who else? Stepping into the kitchen, your eyes fall on Pierre. Immediately, a big smile appears on your face. “Pierre!”, you exclaim happily and his face lights up once his eyes fall on you. He rushed over and wraps you in a tight hug. What you don’t see is the wiggling eyebrows Max aims at Pierre. Pierre just rolls his eyes and then closes them to take in your scent for a moment. Soon after, you break the hug, but Pierre stays close, his arm loosely wrapped around your hips.

Max excuses himself shortly after, as he has an appointment. You bit him goodbye, and when the door falls close, you turn around to Pierre. “Why are you here already?”, you ask him, and he flashes you a cheeky grin. “Not happy to see me?” You shake your head but laugh. “I am more than happy to see you, Pierre! I was just thought you would arrive in two days.” “Well,”, he says and wraps you in another hug, “I really wanted to see you!” You are happy that your face is buried in his chest because a blush creeps on your cheeks.

Pierre pulls back a little and looks at you. “Are you feeling better today?”, he asks with genuine concern. You nod, “Yeah, thanks to Max. He picked me up last night and stayed over to make sure I was okay.” “Max told me what happened. Please, ange, you need to be careful. I know it is hard to be confined in this space and not being as independent as you used to be, but you need to watch out for your health.” You sigh, but nod. “I know. I am just really tired off this, and I want to experience things again. I am afraid that I won’t ever be able to get into the car again…” Pierre nods understandingly. “I get that. But the more you rest and listen to your body, the sooner you will be fully healed.” “Yeah, you are right. I –“, you want to say something more, but suddenly, your stomach growls.

Pierre laughs and you grin, a bit embarrassed. “I think you need some food!”, Pierre says. “Yeah, I am starving!” The two of you make your way into the kitchen and just now you see the huge bouquet of flowers on your kitchen counter. “Wow, these are beautiful”, you exclaim, “Thank you Pierre!” He smiles and waves it off. “It´s nothing”, he says, but for you, it is everything. Pierre pulls out one of your pans, and as you are about to help him, he shoots you a glare. You lift your hands up in mock defence and make your way into the living room. You get your laptop from the couch and sit down on the dining table, as you have some things to finish up. Just because you were not a driver anymore, that didn’t mean that you had nothing to do. Especially now that the winter break slowly came to an end – you had agreed with McLaren that you would be involved in their Social Media activity. It had been Lando´s idea, and you are really grateful for it.

While you couldn’t start on the grid next season, you also didn’t want to entirely leave the F1 world. You are not yet sure if that is a good decision, to be involved but not driving, but you would have to wait and see. Pierre joins you a bit later with some breakfast, and you are beyond happy to finally have him with you again. The two of you will spend some time in Monaco together, before the new season started.

You make the most out of that time. Some days you just sleep in, you in your bed and Pierre in the guest bedroom, and then you would have a long breakfast, you would take a little walk, talked with the fans. He helps you with your exercises, he is a gentle trainer, yet he inspires you to go a tiny, tiny step forward every day. He massages your muscles when they are tired, he applies the lotion your doctor prescribed you. He takes you out for lunch or dinner, he goes shopping with you if that is what you desire. He finds the best clothes for you, you feel pretty in them, you feel worth it in them. He makes you feel safe and protected and if you knew better you would say that he makes you feel loved, but you don’t talk about that. Right now, it is not the time for it, and you both just enjoy what you have for now. The lingering touches, the way the two of you gravitated towards each other. He takes good care of you, and he never gives you the feeling of being a burden, even if you need help with silly little things. Like when your arms and hands are so tired that you cannot take off your own socks. He never makes you feel like you have to be embarrassed about any of those things and it helps.

The break ends soon after these great moments and you hold up quite well. Saying goodbye to Pierre is hard, and you cry. He holds you and presses a kiss on your forehead and tell you that you can always call him. But it will be different, there will be the time difference and he will be busy, and you will be not. He still makes sure to call you whenever, and it works good somehow. Maybe it is because summer comes to Monaco and your friends visit you whenever you can. You train, you take it easy, you rest, and you heal. Soon enough, you are able to go for jogs again, your training becomes longer and harder and you seem to be on the right way. By the summer break, you feel stronger already, and life is rather normal again. You still feel exhausted some days and you are not where you used to be. But you were okay with that.

The sun lifts your mood up, even on the days you don’t manage to run very far. You still go out these days, just go get the kilometres down, to keep your body moving. Summer break comes, and with that the boys are back in town. They spend most of their free time with you, and you are beyond grateful for that. It means the world to you, that they come and visit. Pierre spends a lot of time in Monaco with you as well. You take it easy, enjoying the time together. Just like over winter break, he takes you out a lot. You go and see museums, concerts, whatever there is to do. Some days are exciting, others are slow and relaxing. You take naps on the day bed on your balcony, enjoying the warm summer sun. Your head often rests on Pierre´s lap, or you are cuddled up in his arms during those naps. Still, you don’t talk about it, it is all very natural, your relationship growing stronger every minute you spend together. However, labelling it is not your priority right now, it is still your healing journey.

The two of you also spend lot of time together with the other drivers. Like today for example. Currently, you are laying in the warm sun on the deck of Charles yacht. The boys are bickering about something, while you are reading. You had just left the harbour a few minutes ago, and the boys already distracted you from your book. You cannot help but smile though, you had missed this. It was almost like you were still part of the driver line-up, and you feel relieved that nothing has really changed. They are all still the same adorable dorks they used to be. Some time later, Charles stops the yacht in the middle of the sea. By now you are sweating and very warm, so you are the first person to take the leap of the deck into the ocean.

It is not really a problem; you feel good today. The guys follow soon after, and you start to joke around, splash each other with water, dunking each other under. You have so much fun that you don’t really listen to your body. You splash and dunk and swim around. Pierre watches you closely, like he always does. When you climb up the ladder, he is relieved that you choose to take a break, so he follows. You, however, have other plans. You are about to get ready to jump off the boat another time, when Pierre stops you. “You sure about that, do you not rather want to take a break?” You grin at him with the objective to calm him down. “I feel fine, Pierre!” He nods. “Just be careful, okay?” “Of course!”

You feel your mistake when you start to run to jump off the deck. Your legs are suddenly very, very heavy. You cannot stop anymore however, and before you realize, you are in the air. The force of impact on the surface of the water knocks the breath out of your lungs, your entire body suddenly feels heavy – almost too heavy for you to swim towards the surface. It takes you long to emerge from the water, too long. The others realize when you don’t come up immediately. Charles starts to swim towards you. A splash rips you from your apathy and you swim towards the surface with heavy arms. You emerge coughing and one second later Pierre is right next to you. He helps you to hold yourself over water, and soon, Charles is by your side as well. You are embarrassed, but they don’t let on how scared they really were. Pierre helps you up the stairs and you sit down in one of the seating areas. Pierre brings you a towel and wraps you in it. When the towel is around you, he doesn’t let go. “I am sorry!”, you whisper, “I should have listened to you.” Pierre shakes his head. “Don’t worry, just don’t scare me like that again.” “I won´t!”, you promise and snuggle closer into Pierre. He holds you and you fall asleep soon after.

The rest of the summer break is spent similar. You hang out with Pierre and the guys, you go to France with Pierre, you visit your family, life is good. But then, the races start again, and fall comes to Monaco and with that the rain and the grey days. You are not able to go out of your apartment that much anymore, you are lacking energy and you feel like you are making steps back. Your training doesn’t go as smooch anymore, you feel like your comeback might be in jeopardy.

You are in a bad mood, there is no reason to sugar coat that. You are beyond miserable. The feeling that you will not return next season haunts you, and you are terrified of it. What if you will not manage to ever race again? You have never known something else; you have never learned something else. You feel like you are drowning, and your saving comes in form of a particular Frenchman. He knows that you had been able to go on runs again and that you did harder workouts again, he knows that you were on a way to get better. When your best friend calls him and tells him that you spent most of your days inside now not doing much, he doesn’t believe it at first.

He does, however, when you open the door and look like you haven’t changed out of your sweatpants in a week. You look messy, eyes puffy and tired features. He is scared to see you like this, so hopeless and so… He doesn’t know how to describe it, but you look so little, so tiny. You weren’t the tallest, but usually you carried yourself like you were the tallest in any room. Now, you are hunched over. For a moment he thinks you are going to close the door in his face, but you don’t. “Put your clothes on, we are going for a run!”, he tells you. You don’t protest verbally, but your attitude shows him enough. He doesn’t flinch though. He drags you out of the apartment – you still haven’t said a word. He takes your hand when you arrive downstairs, and he pulls you with him. A little “Pierre, I can´t!” leaves your mouth, but he pretends that he doesn’t hear it. And, after the first meters, you seem to shake off the paralysis that had a tight grip on you the past week.

Your breath is steady, and you are keeping up well with him. It starts to rain, the trail becomes wet, and you slip at some point. You fall, and this little happening seems to make you fall apart. You stay on the ground, and you don’t grab Pierre´s hand when he reaches out. At first, he doesn’t realize but then he sees that you are crying, and he doesn’t care about his outfit – he drops to his knees next to you and hugs you. You want to turn away from him, you feel so fucking weak and pathetic, and he sees you in that state. It embarrasses you; it makes you angry. You want to push him away, you struggle a bit against his grip, but Pierre doesn't let go of you.

“Why am I so weak?”, you cry softly in his shirt, but Pierre hears you. “You are not weak, mon ange”, he whispers. He pulls you a bit closer, like he is afraid that the rain will wash and carry you away. “You are the strongest person I know. I know that life is hard at the moment, and I cannot imagine how you are feeling. But you will get there, I know that!” “I feel like I am the absolute worst version of myself right now, and I just don’t see myself driving next year, but… But that´s all I have ever known, it´s all I have ever wanted!” Pierre still holds you close. The rain is coming down harder now, and you are getting soaked to the skin. You don’t care, it doesn’t matter to you. “If I know anything, I know that you will come back stronger next than ever next year!” “Why do you keep on believing in me, Pierre?”

“You might see yourself as the worst version of yourself right now, but I think you are the strongest, the fiercest version of yourself right now.” For a moment, Pierre falls silent. He takes a deep breathe before he whispers the words into your ear, as if he is afraid that they will be washed away by the rain when he speaks up or speaks them further away from you. “And I believe in you because it is the only thing that keeps me sane. I cannot even begin to think about the fact that you might not ever race again, because it would affect my life in so many ways. It might be selfish, but I would not get to see you as much anymore, and the thought of that is terrible to me. I want to be able to come out of the garage and walk over to hug you. I want to hear your laugh sound all over the paddock because someone cracked a joke. And, most importantly, I believe in you because I am completely and helplessly in love with you.”

You need a moment to take that information in, understanding what he just told you. “You don’t need to say anything, I –“, you stop him by pulling out of his hug and taking your face in both of your hands. The position is not really comfortable, but you don´t care. You press your cold lips against his and kiss him. He kisses you back, and you can feel his warmth seeping into your bones. The rain is still coming down hard, but all you can feel is Pierre's arms around you, and it feels like you have found a lifeline, like you have a new purpose to fight and return stronger than before.

[genshinluvr]

Watch the World Burn

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Villain!Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: Those who have wronged you, chased you out of the region, and ostracized you will all go down with Teyvat. You will watch the world burn as bodies around you fall to the ground one by one.

Note: This is a lot shorter than the first part, mainly because there's not much to really type about. Plus, I mainly wanted this fic to be graphic and depressing. It's an angst and villain!isekai'd!reader, so I might as well make it all angst and all death. I don't recommend reading this if you were hoping there would be a happy ending. Not every man speaks in this story, but uh, everyone tagged is gone. Not sure about how I feel about this fic, but oh well. It is what it is. Anyway! I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: Beheading, suicide, torture, blood, decapitation, betrayal, lots and lots of death

Word Count: 3.8k

This is part 2 of Where I Truly Belong.

You hear nothing but the ocean waves crashing against each other. You’re waist-deep in the ocean, letting the cool water hug your body. It has been four months (Abyss time) since you have seen Dainsleif and four months (actually four days) since you have dealt with the former Geo Archon of Liyue. The Abyss Order has yet to cause any further damage to Teyvat. However, it doesn’t mean the people of Teyvat get to feel at peace. You and the Abyss Order were just getting started. 

Splashing and squeaking pulls you out of your thoughts. You blink and look down to see three leisurely otters floating around you, their bellies facing the sky while gazing at you curiously. You stare back, watching them float closer to where you stand. As the otters swim closer, you hesitantly reach out to pet them, only to stop. You don’t want to taint something as innocent as the creatures of Teyvat, but it’s too late now, isn’t it?

You have destroyed many environments of these innocent creatures. Yet, you worry about tainting the three others that are now floating in front of you? The otters squeak curiously, hugging the seashells to their chests, their little noses twitching as they sniff you. One otter swims closer, leaning up to nudge you with their nose. You hold your hand out, and the otter presses their head into the palm of your hand.

For once, you smile and stroke the otter’s head while they squeak happily. The other two otters mimic the first otter— swimming closer and nudging you for attention and pets. You feel at peace in a region you’re not welcome in. Despite not meeting the Hydro Archon and the citizens of Fontaine, you know you’re not welcome in the land of the Hydro Archon. You don’t need to step into the region to know your presence is unwelcome. 

A shadow looms over you and the three otters, causing you to freeze, and the otters look up and squeak. You turn to see the Chief Justice of Fontaine standing before you, thighs deep in the water. You size him up, taking a step back to keep the distance between you and the mysterious man. The Chief Justice of Fontaine holds both hands up in front of him.

“I am not here to hurt you,” says Neuvillette.

You clench your hands into fists. “How can I be so sure that you won’t?” You demand, glaring at Neuvillette.

The otters squeak happily, swimming over to the Chief Justice of Fontaine. Neuvillette looks away from you, and a soft smile appears on Neuvillette’s face as he squats down and starts petting each otter. The otters toss their seashells in the air, presenting the pink and vanilla-colored seashells to the long-haired man. While Neuvillette is distracted with the three otters, you’re surveying your surroundings to make sure there aren’t any people lingering around the area.

Once you double-check to make sure Neuvillette is alone, you look over at the Chief Justice of Fontaine, only to see him now standing tall and gazing at you curiously. You clear your throat and cross your arms over your chest, hands itching to open a portal for you to return to the Abyss. It was risky of you to leave the Abyss on your own without Enjou, Agnarr, and Egill at your side to protect you from those who want your head on the silver platter.

You look away from the tall man. “It’s best you leave, Chief Justice of Fontaine. It’s not safe for you to be seen with me… unless the Hydro Archon sent you to kill me,” you mutter bitterly, narrowing your eyes at the white-haired man.

A smile ghosts over Neuvillette’s face. Despite being the Ruler of the Abyss Order, you still cared for his safety. Maybe you’re not as hostile with Neuvillette because you didn’t step foot in Fontaine, nor were you chased out of the region by angry mobs of vision holders. Or maybe, just maybe, the Abyss Order has yet to fully consume you entirely. You still have a small chunk of humanity in you. At least, that’s what Neuvillette is assuming as he continues to analyze you. A squeak and nudge pull your attention away from the Chief Justice of Fontaine. The otter holds up a seashell toward you, gazing at you curiously.

You’re about to grab the seashell when the air suddenly feels out of place. You turn to see Wriothesley charging toward you, prepared to attack you. The three otters dive into the water and swim off in fear. Wriothesley lunges in the air, his fist raised to hit you. You jump out of the way and open a large portal where you previously stood.

“You are under arrest in the Court of Fontaine for— AH!” Wriothesley falls into the portal, and the portal closes up behind him.

Neuvillette narrows his eyes at you, gripping hard on his cane. “Where did you send him?” Neuvillette demands.

You point over to the east, and Neuvillette follows your gesture. A hole opens up in the sky, and Wriothesley plops into the ocean, creating a moderate-sized splash. You sigh in defeat, rubbing your neck. So much for wanting peace— unfortunately, as the Rule of the Abyss, you will never see peace unless you’re in the Abyss.

“I’ll take my leave now,” you say, preparing to leave when an arrow whizzs past you, nicking your neck.

A familiar obnoxious laugh rings in the air, sending chills down your spine. Neuvillette glares at the perpetrator and criminal of Fontaine. The ginger-haired Harbinger struts toward you and Neuvillette with his hands on his hips and head held high. Childe’s bow materializes in his hands, aiming another arrow at your face.

“Think you can get away from me easily?” Childe asks, the corner of his lips quirking up.

Great, more trouble to deal with. Childe lunges toward you and starts attacking. Somehow, Wriothesley is beside Childe, aiding him with the attacks toward you. The strange thing is that Neuvillette isn’t joining in on the fight. Instead, he’s watching from the sidelines. 

You roundhouse kick Childe in the face, causing the ginger to stumble back against Wriothesley. Before the two men land on the ground, you open a portal below them and quickly shut it. You don’t look at Neuvillette; instead, you open another portal and step into the galaxy-like portal, leaving the Chief Justice of Fontaine alone. 

— Somewhere in the Abyss —

Chained to the wall, Dainsleif leans his head against the wall, closing his eyes with a defeated sigh. A strange sound fills the prison cell, causing Dainsleif to open his eyes. Dainsleif hears a faint scream echoing in the portal, although the same screams are getting louder and louder. Before Dainsleif knows it, Childe and Wriothesley tumble out from the portal, landing on the cold, hard ground. 

Childe and Wriothesley quickly get off the ground and look around, still disoriented from their journey through the starry wormhole. Dainsleif looks at the jail cell bars to see two Abyss Lectors standing there, their arms over their chests. Dainsleif frowns and closes his eyes, tilting his head back against the wall.

“I didn’t ask for a cellmate,” Dainsleif mutters.

Agnarr and Egill look at one another before cackling, their laughter echoing through the dungeon. Childe and Wriothesley grab the metal bars, glaring at the two Abyss Lectors as the two Abyssal beings continue to cackle maniacally. 

“Those who try to harm the Ruler of the Abyss shall suffer the consequences,” Agnarr thunders, electro crackling in the clenched fist of the Abyss Lector.

Egill and Agnarr soon open a portal and disappear through the celestial door. Childe growls and punches the bars, making Wriothesley and Dainsleif stare at the angry ginger Harbinger. Childe plops on the ground and sighs, resting his head against the wall and closing his eyes. Wriothesley leans against the wall, not saying a word. Killing you is going to be a lot harder than they thought.

Meanwhile, somewhere in the Abyss, you stand before the Anemo Archon. Kneeling before you, arms chained behind his back, the Anemo Archon glares up at you while you smirk at him. You would comment about how pathetic he looks, but his face doesn’t even belong to him. You squat down and grab him by the chin.

“If I kill that traveler, would you also steal his body and parade around Teyvat like how you did with that poor, poor, nameless bard?” You coo, digging your sharp nails into his flesh. “You enjoy stealing someone’s corpse and playing dress up, don’t you?”

Venti glares at you. “Don’t you dare speak on the name of—”

“Name? Oh, please. I never said anyone’s name, Barbatos. You have to be foolish to think I said someone’s name when I didn’t name anyone,” You scoff, releasing the Anemo Archon’s chin and walking to your throne.

Enjou stands beside your throne as you sit down and cross your right leg over your left. You look at two Abyss Heralds and nod. The two Abyss Heralds tighten their grip on Venti’s shoulders, holding him down as Enjou and Egill levitate over to the weak Anemo Archon. Agnarr stands beside your throne, watching the scene unfold.

You lean back in your seat, nodding. “You may begin,” you say nonchalantly.

Flames engulf Enjou and Egill’s hands before they grab the Anemo Archon’s arms, burning through the thin fabric of his clothes. Venti cries out in pain, writhing and trying to escape from their grasp. You yawn and stretch your arms in the air before snickering.

“I’m not sure if you’re screaming and crying in agony because you’re in pain or if it’s because the body of the nameless bard is being harmed,” You tease, tapping your fingers on your biceps and smirking at the writhing Archon. 

Agnarr leans down, whispering in your ears, “Your Highness, what do you wish for this Archon’s fate to be?”

You close your eyes, tapping your cheek while trying to block out the sounds of the Anemo Archon screaming and screeching in agony as he continues to burn alive. What shall his fate be? Should you let him live or watch him burn?

You smirk bitterly. “I would say kill him, but Barbatos is a wind spirit cosplaying as his dead friend. Kill the vessel and the wind spirit,” You order. “If it’s impossible to kill the wind spirit, then let the power of the Abyss course through his veins.”

The sounds of Venti’s anguish screams echo through the corridor of the Abyss Order temple, sending chills down the spines of three prisoners. You prop your arm on the armrest, watching the sleeves of the bard’s clothes wither away and his pale flesh turning into an angry red before melting and dripping on the ground. The scent of burning flesh fills the air, causing you to scrunch your nose in disgust and pinch your nose. Agnarr opens the portal beside you and gestures for you to enter the celestial doorway. You shake your head, insisting that you want to watch the Anemo Archon fall before your eyes. Agnarr chuckles and closes the portal, watching you pull out a popcorn bucket from thin air and begin munching away. One Archon down, six more to go.

“I will be watching the world burn as the bodies fall around me one by one,” You say softly. 

Agnarr looks at you. “Is that your wish, Your Highness?”

You smirk. “Of course. Those who go against the Abyss Order shall watch their friends and loved ones perish in the hands of the Abyss Order,” you state.

And who are they, the Abyssal beings, to deny the wishes of their dearest Ruler? Your wish is their command. After what felt like hours, you retreat to your bedroom and collapse on your bed, closing your eyes. The torture and the death of the Anemo Archon was quite a show. 

Although it’s a shame that he didn’t fight back. I mean, it’s not like he can fight back anyway. If his arms weren’t chained and bound behind his back, he still wouldn’t stand the chance. Barbatos is a weak Archon— nothing more than a wind spirit who loves to cosplay as the dead. How shameless.

Enjou stands at the foot of your bed. “Your Highness, are you headed off to bed now?” asks the Pyro Abyss Lector.

“I am, Enjou. Despite having the power of the Abyss Order coursing through my veins, I, unfortunately, still need to get some sleep,” You lament. 

Enjou nods and bids you a goodnight before exiting your bedroom. You lay on your bed, pulling the blankets to your chin before drifting to sleep. Meanwhile, on Teyvat, flames continue to kiss every surface it nears. There’s not enough water in the world to extinguish the raging flames of the Abyss Order. Abyssal beasts and beings lurk in the corners of Teyvat, stalking their prey before striking when the victim least expects it.

“Where is Thoma?” Lord Ayato asks, walking through the Kamisato Estate, searching for the blond man.

The blond man pops up from the end of the hallway, waving to the Kamisato heir. “I’m right here, my Lord. Is there anything I can help you with?” Thoma asks, smiling at the blue-haired man. 

The Kamisato Heir sighs in relief, glad to see his retainer amidst the chaos running amok on Teyvat. While the flames have yet to kiss the City of Eternity, the orange and red glow of the blazing fire illuminates the night sky. The smoke suffocates and buries the glimmering stars.

Ayaka peeks her head from the corner, curious. “Did something happen, big brother? You look… shaken,” Ayaka says cautiously, approaching her brother and blond retainer.

The head of the Kamisato clan looks over at Gorou and Heizou, who gulp and nod. Gorou lets out a shaky sigh, crossing his arms over his chest and looking at the ground. Due to the chaos running rampant on Teyvat, the death toll skyrockets.

“We have found several bodies of… familiar faces,” Gorou says, his voice shaking.

Heizou looks at the list of names. “Arataki Itto was found dead in Chinju Forest— his horns were ripped out of his skill and plunged into his eye sockets. Kaedehara Kazuha was found dead in the ocean. His death has been ruled by accidental drowning,” Heizou says, his hands shaking.

The lights in the Kamisato Estate flicker before plunging the five Inazumans into total darkness. Ayaka whimpers and stands close to her brother, grabbing onto his sleeves tightly. Two portals open in the center of the Kamisato Estate, and out comes the two Abyss Heralds. Everyone in the room draws out their weapons, backs pressed against each other, preparing to attack the Abyss Heralds. The first person to go is Thoma— the Cryo Abyss Herald throws shards of ice in Thoma’s direction, piercing him in the chest, neck, and head. Thoma’s body drops to the ground as Ayaka and Ayato let out a piercing scream.

The Hydro Abyss Herald slams the Kamisato Heir against the wall before slicing the heir in half at the torso. Gorou, Heizou, and Ayaka were soaked to the bone and frozen multiple times before ultimately dying of hypothermia and decapitation. 

Just as the two Abyss Heralds return to the Abyss, the Cryo Abyss Herald grabs the head of the Kamisato Heir and tosses the head in the air. 

“What are you doing with that? Leave it at the Estate,” the Hydro Abyss Herald says, irritated.

The Cyro Abyss Herald snorts. “I think Their Highness would appreciate us bringing back a souvenir from Inazuma,” the Cryo Abyss Herald retorts, stepping into the portal with the head of the Kamisato Heir.

“If we’re going to do that, we might as well return with all their heads,” groused the Hydro Abyss Herald.

The Cryo Abyss Herald stops halfway into the portal and turns around. “Oh? And what’s stopping you?”

In the Chasm, you stand before the Geo Archon, his face in your hands. His arms are bound behind his back. Enjou and Agnarr hold Zhongli by the biceps, watching the former Geo Archon fight against their grasps pathetically. You giggle and stroke his cheek with your thumb.

“Oh, Zhongli. What’s so bad about joining the Abyss Order, hmm?” You coo.

Zhongli is trying to fight back, but he can’t hold on any longer. Zhongli’s amber eyes slowly turn pitch black, black veins creeping up his face. Zhongli growls and thrashes around, only for Enjou to hit him in the back of his head to immobilize him. 

You whisper, “Don’t fight it, Morax. Embrace the power of the Abyss Order coursing through your veins.”

Zhongli goes limp, breathing heavily. You take a step back and watch Zhongli curiously, head tilting to the side. Zhongli suddenly breaks out of Enjou and Agnarr’s grasp, charging at you like an angry Lawachurl. You remain still, waiting to see what the former Geo Archon is going to do. Enjou and Agnarr are about to attack Zhongli, but you hold your hand up, shaking your head. Enjou and Agnarr watch anxiously. 

Zhongli stops before you, staring you down. His body is shaking, hands clenched at his sides. Zhongli’s polearm materializes in his hands. He raises the weapon in the air, and before you know it, Zhongli plunges the blade into his chest. You gasp in horror, watching the former Geo Archon sink the polearm further into his chest cavity, blood spurting out of his chest like a water fountain. Zhongli looks up at you, blood spilling out of his mouth as he smiles at you ruefully. 

“I do not wish to harm you, [Y/N]. I would rather die than hurt you,” Zhongli coughs, falling to his knees.

You run toward Zhongli, only for Egill to hold you back. “Zhongli….” You whisper.

The ex-Archon coughs. “I’m sorry things have to turn out this way,” Zhongli rasps, closing his eyes.

You stare at Zhongli in disbelief before laughing weakly. You don’t know how to handle all of this. Zhongli claims that he chose to kill himself because he didn’t want to hurt you, but you don’t know if Zhongli’s telling the truth or if he’s trying to get you to crack. Enjou offers to dismember Zhongli’s limbs, but you protest against the idea of dismembering Zhongli. As much as you would love to scatter the remains of the former Geo Archon throughout Liyue, you decide not to do it. Instead, you have his corpse on display in your throne room. It, dare you say it, hurts you that you can’t give the deceased Geo Archon a proper burial. However, out of all the people you dealt with on Teyvat, the only person who deserves a proper burial is the former Geo Archon. Perhaps with Abyssal magic, you’ll find a way to preserve the deceased Archon’s body.

You step out of the gloomy palace of the Abyss Order, looking around the vast darkness. You have yet to return to Teyvat, but you don’t see the need to. You pinch your nose in disgust and turn to Egill, who’s levitating toward you.

“Perhaps the biggest mistake I have made is choosing to display the corpses of my enemies,” you sigh, shuddering with disgust. 

Angry shouts grab your and Egill’s attention. You turn to see a black-haired Harbinger struggling against Klingsor’s iron grip. You and the black-haired Harbinger make eye contact, and he shouts for you.

“I betrayed everyone in the Fatui and helped you carry out your plans! This is what I get in return?!” shouts the Regrator, his eyes blazing with anger. 

Klingsor levitates toward you and Egill, dragging the Regrator, also known as Pantalone, along. The black-haired Harbinger isn’t too pleased to find out his assistance will not spare him of his impending doom. Heck, everyone in Teyvat— at least, those with visions— have been slain. You stand before Pantalone, chuckling.

You grab Pantalone by the chin and tilt his head upward. “Out of all the Harbingers, you treat me the worst. You put a bounty over my head, offering up to almost two hundred million Mora. It’s comical to see you switch sides so fast after realizing the Abyss Order has taken over Teyvat,” you chortle. 

You release Pantalone’s face and walk away. “Klingsor, you can do as you please with Pantalone. I have three prisoners to visit,” you say nonchalantly, waving your hands around.

Klingsor drags a screaming Pantalone away as you and Egill walk to the palace. Walking past the display, you tap on each head, humming contently.  

“This place is really coming together, don’t you think? At first, I thought about having them hold their severed heads on their lap, but having their heads on stakes is way better,” you say, turning to Egill.

Egill clears his throat. “Your Highness, is it too late for me to inform you that two out of three of the prisoners have killed one another due to being driven to the point of insanity?” Egill asks, peeking at you.

You stop in your tracks and sigh. “Is that so? Darn, I was hoping to have them fight to the death in a ring,” you kick the nearest marble on the ground. “What about Dainsleif? Is he still alive?” 

Egill doesn’t reply and leads you to the dungeon where Dainsleif was kept. Upon arriving at the jail cell, you stop in your tracks.

“Egill?” You keep your eyes on the jail cell, “Where is Dainsleif?” You ask through clenched jaws, now looking at the empty jail cell aside from the chunks of flesh and pool of blood on the concrete floor.

A portal opens before you, and Dainsleif lunges from the portal, tackling you to the ground. You glare up at Dainsleif. Dainsleif plunges a knife into your chest before crying out in pain. Dainsleif looks down to see a polearm impaling his chest. Dainsleif collapses on top of you as your vision becomes blurry. If this is how it ends for you, then so be it. At least you were able to watch the world burn. You close your eyes and prepare for your impending death, but it never arrives. You open your eyes to see Egill, Agnarr, and Enjou hovering over you.

“Did you really think we would let our Ruler die?” Enjou asks smugly, crossing his arms over his chest.

Agnarr helps you up and kicks Dainsleif’s body to the side. You place your hand over where Dainsleif stabbed you, only to see that the wound is gone. You point at Dainsleif and gesture for Egill to leave with the body. Egill bows and tosses Dainsleif’s body over his shoulders and walks off.

“How many times did we save your ass, Your Highness?” Enjou teases, nudging you with his elbow.

You roll your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose. “Shut it, Enjou,” you grumble, walking out of the dungeon. “Make sure someone cleans up the mess in the cell.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” Agnarr and Enjou murmur, following you out of the dungeon.

Note: Now that I got this out of the way, I do have school coming up very soon. Because this is my final year in university, I really need to focus on school and do well so I can graduate on time. I am going to be on hiatus, meaning the Genshin and HSR isekai fics will be put on pause. I will try to post something every now and then, but I (and the isekai fanfics for both Genshin and HSR) will be on hiatus. Tbh, idk who reads the notes at the end of my fics, but I'll announce my hiatus separately very soon. Since school is starting soon, this will be the last time I post invite links to my Discord server, and I will not be giving out invite links after the link expires. If you want to join, you can click the temporary link to [Zhongli's Abode]. Anyway, to all my new and returning readers, keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

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[rubyvhs]

blowing smoke [sam winchester]

masterlist request summary: you’ve liked sam ever since you’ve known him and now he’s interested in this ‘nelly’ girl.

tags: mutual pinning, cursing, said short but it’s a ‘jared’ short so you’re shorter than 6’4.

If you ever see Nelly Smith again, it’ll be too soon. Way too fucking soon. Granted, you’ve only met her a couple of times, but it’s more than enough to see her for who she is, which is nothing, she’s as shallow as they come. 

This isn’t to shame her per se, she's a great hunter considering each time you met her she’s saved your ass. And this time wasn't any different, except that she’s saved you, Sam and Dean, but she’s not an incredible human being either. 

Because, first of all, when has anyone ever accepted a ‘do you want to stay over’ invite? Sam and Dean were being polite after she saved your lives when Sam had offered for her to crash at the bunker till the morning. Completely polite. And you’re sure he assumed she would decline anyways. A usual, ‘thanks but I have a motel’. 

Instead she was all smiles and grateful as she stroked Sam’s arm to emphasize her thanks. Which, totally unnecessary, lady. She drives back with the three of you, behind your car, and parks just outside the bunker. She says she’ll leave in the morning when Sam shows her to Cass’s room that they never use, but at least it’s clean enough for a human being to inhabit. Dean says he’ll grab new sheets and you’re staring daggers at her. 

You’re not an unkind person, in fact, everyone that’s met you has said nothing but nice things about you, but she’s just not clicking. Everything she says and does makes you hate her a little more. Which is why you take Dean’s place and get the sheets instead as you tell him that he’s already tired enough as is. He accepts, hugs you quickly in appreciation and heads to his room. Probably for a shower. You’re all due a good, long shower after the ghoul insides decorating you. 

“Here,” you smile tightly, it’s less of a smile and more of you pursing your lips in challenge. She catches the sheets with a charming grin and nods, thanking you. Sam passes by the room after his five minute shower to catch the scene and rushes to help her like the sweet guy he is. 

He doesn’t scowl at you for being rude or anything, he just assists her with no complaint and then you both leave her room with a faint goodnight. That’s when you decide to ask what the hell is going on. You know you don’t have the right to do that, you’re as much of an intruder as she is— but still! 

“Is she actually staying here?” Sam’s eyes widen a little and he looks over at you as he walks you to your room, which is across from his. “I mean like, you’re so nice to her.”

“Yeah, she’s a hunter— a friend,” a friend? Might as well bake her a cake at this fucking point. A friend? What’s next, they’ll fuck?

Okay, in your defense, you were being sarcastic. You didn’t think you’d actually wake up at five in the morning to see a freshly showered Nelly walk out of Sam’s room. She spots you as you open your door, jaw on the floor, and buttons up her shirt, no, Sam’s shirt. “Morning, honey! Didn’t know you woke up so early.”

“Yeah,” you look her up and down, just once, and she looks great. Her hair’s perfect and she’s wearing her own jeans that fit just right, you can’t blame Sam. “Morning to you too.”

“I’ll head to my room. Sleep a few hours before I hit the road, you know.” You can’t even be mad at her anymore, you’re just upset, like there’s a churning in your stomach, deep inside, and everytime you think about it it hurts a thousand times more. 

Just as she’s about to bolt, you assume he heard the commotion, and Sam opens his door. “What’s— oh, hey,” he addresses you and you give him something that resembles a greeting for one second before you mumble about a shower and shut your door closed. 

What. Is. Happening. One night stands? Totally Dean’s thing, not Sam’s. Never Sam’s. And you were so grateful about it, too, considering you’ve been in love with him for years. But where do you find the time to tell someone that when they’re being attacked constantly? 

And now that things… well, they haven’t settled, but they’re not as chaotic thanks to Chuck leaving. Everyone’s hunting and happy, still on the lookout, but you guys escaped his ‘welcome to the end’ charade, the Winchesters are free to be happy, and you’ve been invading Sam’s space more often these past days. Trying to give him hints, trying to make progress. 

He’s been giving them back, or you thought he had. You’d even found Eileen and brought her back to life but instead of him jumping into her arms, she stayed for a few days and left to keep hunting. Everything is supposed to finally frickin’ click between you guys, you’re done! And yet, of course, it doesn’t.

You actually do decide to take that shower and it calms you down a lot more than you’d like to admit. You’d have probably done soemthing stupid if you didn’t take it before you left your room— like choke Nelly. Or kiss Sam. Both are equally catastrophic.

As you’re drying your hair in between a towel, walking into the kitchen, you see Dean already on the stove. “Hey, De.” Your eyes gleam as you notice the pancakes he’s hovering over. “No way, is there enough?”

He faces you, and nods. Looks like he’s still asleep. “You okay?”

“I couldn’t sleep a fucking second with Sam and Nelly going at it all night.” Your blood runs cold and you try to shrug it off. Oh god, seriously? All night? Come on, no way. There’s no doubt in your mind Sam can make it that good but he must’ve liked— practically loved Nelly to stay that long. 

“All night?” You repeat and its a little pathetic so you decide to straighten up and shake your head, willing the thoughts to go away. “What are we gonna do today?” You ask before he can comment on your first statement.

He gives you a look before going back to flipping the pancake. “Nothin’ that I’m aware of. I’ll try to find a hunt but we could wait until tomorrow.” You could, considering the only reason you took a hunt in the first place was because of the proximity, you’re in no rush to find another one. All of you kind of enjoy the quiet. 

“Why are you up so early, though?” He shrugs, placing the last one on a plate and turning off the fire. Three incredibly full plates of pancakes. Dean’s been awake for a while. “Seriously? Talk to me.”

“I told you.”

“Liar. You could’ve picked another room.” The only reason Dean heard everything is because his vents are connected to Sam’s, which is the way he likes it. So Sam’s far away from the entrance in case anything comes in, but He’ll wake up if anything tries to take him. 

“It’s fine.” You don’t push after that cause Dean’s  scary in the morning and if he has a serious problem he would let you guys know. He would let Sam know. 

Speaking of the devil (unironically), he comes into the kitchen, his eyes scanning the counter. You wave at him wordlessly and start on the, no doubt, delicious breakfast Dean prepared. Obviously it needs some white chocolate sauce, but to do that you’d need to stand up and go get it— not exactly appealing. Eating it half dry? Yeah, more appealing.

Until you find your favorite sauce container right next to your plate and when you look up Sam’s smiling at you. Yeah, not that easy, pal, but good try. You take it from him with a murmured thanks and add an unhealthy amount. Drowning your sorrows in chocolate, no better way to start the day.

It’s a slow day. No matter what Dean said you didn’t expect that he’d actually wait for a day before finding a hunt. But that not what’s actually bothering you, no, worse than all this sitting at home doing nothing is frickin Nelly sleeping in the bunker still. It’s been four hours. How long does she plan on sleeping? On staying? 

Someone should probably wake her up and make her leave. For her safety, of course, you wouldn’t want her to drive after daylight, what with all the things that go bumping in the night. 

Dean comes to sit next to you on the couch in the… entertainment room? Playroom? (You’re not calling it the Dean Cave if your life depends on it) “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself,” he offers his beer and you just shake your head. “What’re you doing here?”

“Why’s Nelly here?” Oh God. Someone shut you up. Immediately. “I’m sorry—”

“Nah, it’s okay. I knew you’d break eventually. She’s supposed to leave today anyway.”

“Break?”

“Yeah. You like Sam, he’s sleeping with Nelly, ‘course you want her gone.” Your eyebrows furrow and your pout deepens but the time you face him. He’s about to take a sip from his beer like it doesn’t matter when you snatch it out of his hand to drown most of it. 

When you’re done you aggressively place it on the table, “what did you mean?”

“Oh, come on!” You snap your fingers once in his face so he can focus on you, causing him to flap his hand to brush yours away, “you’re a bitch when you want to be, you know that? Come on, everyone knows you like Sam.”

“That’s bullshit—”

“Fine, then call Jody and ask her!”

“Dean,” You’re much more stern this time and he actually scoots back to answer.

“Look, it ain’t a secret. You like Sam, he likes you. That’s all.” You shake your head. “I don’t know why he slept with Nelly, okay? Stupid move, you should probably try to talk to him.” With an unspoken and leave me alone. 

Which fine, fuck you Dean, you will be doing exactly that. You look for Sam everywhere only to pass by his room, the last place you’ll be looking, and find an actual fucking purse on the door. Not even a sock, her whole damn purse. What does that mean? She knows it’s supposed to be a sock, right? 

And then you hear it. Her moans. Her “oh, Sam, oh!” And Sam’s grunts, his groans as he pounds into her and “so good, baby.”

God no. You’re a damn hunter, there’s no way you’re tearing up listening to people have sex. You immediately run into your own room to slam the door and fight to brush your feelings. He isn’t doing the one night stand thing, no, Sam is doing the ‘I like you so I’m going to fuck you’ thing. Which means whatever you thought you guys had, or whatever feelings you thought were there, you’d made up. Everything had been in your head. The touches and the kisses on the cheek— all strictly platonic in a ‘i see you as my sister’ way. 

Everytime he leaned down to kiss your cheek you were thinking about spending the night with him while his thoughts were more along the lines of: “love having a little sister”.

And of course it makes sense, why else would he let you stay at the bunker and be so comfortable around you? It’s because he doesn’t care what you think of him. Everything. The past years, every time it’s been a step closer to heartbreak. Every single time you thought you had a chance, you didn’t.

“Hey,” You hear none other than Sam’s knock on your door, shouting your name just loud enough for you to hear him, “you in there?”

“Come in.” You reply and wash your face in the sink quickly before he can notice your red eyes and teared up face. “Hey, Sam.” It comes out naturally with your eyes still shut until you grab the hem of your shirt to dry your face. What’s the point, right? He doesn’t see it that way.

When you open your eyes he’s staring at you. At you, since his eyes are on your body, not face. “Sam? You okay? What did you need?”

“You— I was worried about you. I heard the door slam and I thought something was wrong.” As if the only guy you’ve ever seriously liked not feeling anything towards you isn’t embarrassing enough, now he thinks you’re childish too. 

“No, I’m great. Thanks for checking in. Sorry for interrupting—” Oh shit. You slowly scrunch your face as if that’ll help you disappear. He didn’t even know that you knew that they were together. Wait, does that mean he left her to come check on you? Was she already finished? Was he finished?

“Interrupting what?”

“Your… alone time.”

“I wasn’t alone, don’t worry. But if there’s something wrong you should tell me.” He runs a hand through his hair so it’s out of his face and when you look at him, really look at him, you can see just how incredibly soft his features are. It’s always been such a drastic contrast from how sharp Dean’s are. Sam’s jawline is the only exception but somehow it doesn’t change the overall tone.

“Okay.” You retort quietly. It’s either that or scream at him to leave. “Did you need anything else?”

“Come on—” And then he stops, sighs and shakes his head, “meet us in the library, we’re looking for a hunt.”

“I’ll look for one in here.”

“Seriously, why are you acting like this?” He snaps facing you aggressively. Sam’s always talked with his hands which you found endearing, that and how expressive he is, tone wise and facial expressions too, it helps you read him which calms you down beyond belief, you don’t like to be left out of someone’s thoughts about a situation you’re both in. 

“Like what?”

“Like— I don’t know, bratty!” Bratty? Bratty is what Dean calls Sam. It’s not what Sam calls you.

You grit your teeth, “Fuck you, Sam. Get out.” He storms out like you asked but leaves the door open. Which means when you go to close it you spot Nelly sitting on Sam’s bed, on her phone. 

Naked. And alone. So where did Sam storm off to? The library leaving Nelly alone? You don’t know whether that rubs you the right way or not because on one hand, he left her to come check on you, on the other, he trusts her to stay in his room without supervision. Since when does he trust people two days into knowing them?

Well, the rest of the day doesn’t go any better, because after you see him retreat into his room one more time, you beg Dean to go out with you so you can leave the house to them. He agrees, mostly for your sanity, and you run to your room to get dressed.

Then, and this is completely normal, you stop in front of Sam’s room to see if you can hear anything and thank god you couldn’t. Again, totally normal to check, just in case. So you get dressed, run over to the garage where Dean is sending a quick ‘going out’ text to Sam. You’re both in the car and the second you’re out of the bunker you let out a sigh of relief. 

“Hey, it can’t be that bad.”

“You have no idea how I feel with her in his room the entire day. It’s already three, shouldn’t she have left by now?” Dean chuckles as he takes a sharp turn, away from the road. The only reason cars don’t pop up by the bunker is because it’s a broken down road, unless you take the path the MoL paved in the forest behind it.

“Yeah, she’ll probably be gone by the time we’re back. But you shouldn’t let it bother you so much, don’t let him affect you like this.”

You frown and lean back against the window to face Dean who’s giving his full attention to the rocky road, “what is this, cheap therapy? No way! I am so letting it affect me. I’ve liked Sam for so long and it’s annoying that he’d just— I mean, he could at least hide it. Take it to her room or something, but instead it’s right in my face.”

Dean tries to say something before you cut in, another loud complaint, “Dean, I heard her. Heard.”

“Heard her? Why were you standing outside his room?” You roll your eyes and huff as you throw yourself against the seat. That’s not the point. “You’re letting it get to you and it’s not healthy.”

“Look, I obviously want him to be happy. He deserves it. And if he’s happy with Nelly I would’ve taken my complaints to the grave, but it’s a casual thing considering they’ve known each other for, what, two days?” 

“Yeah, I get what you mean. It’s fine, I’d want you to tell me what you’re thinking anyways. You’re not fun when you bottle things up.” Says the king of it. But you don’t mention that, just grunt when he gets back on the road. “We’re going on a supply run, by the way.”

You nod absentmindedly and get on your phone. You see a message from Sam and your heart immediately seizes up. 

You could’ve talked to me instead of running out.

About what?

Whatever is making you act like this.

Like what?

Bitchy.

If your dropped jaw was anything to go by, Dean knew you were texting Sam. Which is why he snatches the phone from your hand.

“Don’t let it—”

“If you say affect me one more time, Dean Winchester I will fucking—”

“Alright alright, calm down.” And it’s maybe the calmest you’ll get. With the smoke coming out of your ears and your whole face a tomato shade of red.

“No, I just don’t get it!” You say exasperatedly as you get out of the impala and walk with Dean as he unloads the groceries from the trunk.

“Seriously?” You were just talking about a hunt that he’d picked up on and somehow you’d found a way to make it about Sam. “I swear if you don’t tell Sam how you feel I will.” You gasp like he admitted to something much worse and he rolls his eyes, motioning at you to close the trunk since his hands are full and you haven’t bothered offering help. 

“You wouldn’t! He’s happy now with fucking Nelly or whatever. And you know what? I so don’t care.”

“You talk like a twelve year old.”

“You act like one.”

Sam stops you right before you both enter the kitchen, “Alright, children, let’s not fight.” Which makes both of you mock him as you walk past him. 

You can’t help it when the words tumble out of your mouth, “Where’s Nelly?” And you can’t exactly help it when you say her name like that either. 

“Gone. Found a hunt nearby and said to tell you both goodbye.” Oh thank God. Because no matter how confident you act in front of Dean, you were freakin’ terrified he’d actually end up liking her. Sex you can try to write off but keeping her here is more. “Sucks. Seemed like you liked having her around.” You say, giving him your back to put the groceries in their place, mostly just to have something to do with yourself. 

“She’s kind.” Kind your ass. Her moans? Way too exaggerated. She wanted you to know he was with her. Which makes no sense because in the end she’s the one who left and you’re the one who gets to stay. You don’t notice how close Sam is walking towards you until you turn around and he has to hold you so you don’t fall over in surprise, “But she pissed you off.”

You shake your head automatically. He’s standing way too close. Where’s Dean? You look around and— yeah, the asshole’s gone. “You called me a bitch.” Much like all your words, you blurt it. Like you don’t know what’s coming out of your mouth next and you want to make sure you can get all of it out.

“I didn’t. I said you’re acting bitchy. Which you were, and you wouldn’t even tell me why, pretty girl.” That’s a new nickname. ‘Sweetheart’ you’ve heard multiple times, even grown accustomed to. But it’s generic to the Winchesters. It’s what they call anyone with two legs (or four wheels… or a barrel).

“I— I don’t know, she was here and you…” and it comes to you again, forcing you back from his grip. He can’t put you under a trance like that! He fucked another girl, in the room opposite to yours and called you a bitch? No way were you forgiving him. Not without an apology, at least. “You called me a bitch!”

He lets out a small laugh, “I didn’t— whatever, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that, but you can’t avoid me when you don’t like something.”

“Sleeping with someone to make me jealous? How am I supposed to not ignore you.”

“I wasn’t trying to make you jealous.”

“Well Nelly was! With her— her, loud moans or whatever and she’s so whiny.” She wasn’t. Or if she was, you wouldn’t have heard it, but you’ve already made up your mind about this and there’s no way you’re taking it back now. 

You walk away from him to the library. It’s neutral ground, the kitchen feels like he’ll suffocate you in there. “Come on, she wasn’t trying anything,” he says, walking behind you. Before you reach the steps to the main door he pulls your arm, “stop it. She wasn’t. And I wasn’t either— why would you even be jealous?”

“Why would I— why are you clueless?” Maybe you do talk like a twelve year old when you’re angry, but it doesn’t change the fact that your argument is right. “We— i mean, I thought I was so obvious, Sam! I tried telling you how I felt, I practically all but threw myself onto you and you didn’t even care. And that’s okay, you don’t feel the same way, but don’t get angry at me for wanting to protect myself from—”

Sam Winchester is kissing you, as much of a kiss as anything. He wraps his lips around your top one, pulling you in closer by your waist and you let yourself melt in his grip. He doesn’t seem to mind, pushing you towards the table and you jump to sit on it, he takes a second to pull away and smile at you. 

“What are you doing?” You whisper, out of breath even if it’s only been a few seconds. He seems to recover faster, only to smirk and invade your space again. You let your hands wander in his hair, Sam’s best feature (no matter what Dean says) because you can feel just how soft and velvety it actually is, you run your fingers through it, using it to push him down to you. Even when you’re sitting on the table you’re still a few inches shorter.

“Sam,” you breathe out against his lips, he’s becoming reckless and quick, pulling you and practically carrying you away from the table. “Sam.” He slowly nods, pulling away before leaning in for a another kiss to solidify the others and then he stands up. 

“I’m sorry.” You shake your head, confused. Oh, he’s talking about Nelly. 

“What does that mean? For us.” You ask, your hand coming down to rest on his cheek, as if it’ll make him give you a better answer. An answer that won’t result in your heart breaking because you’ve kissed. You’ve officially felt Sam’s kisses first hand. You can’t go back.

“That I— I want you here, always.” And it says a hell of a lot more than if he’d said he loves you. Because you already know that. You know it no matter how fucked up things get between you. “And I wanted you to see that.”

“I know,” it hurts to think he used Nelly to get to you but maybe it was the push you need. Not that there’s time to think about it because he’s already bringing your waist closer to his, slowly moving his hips against yours. “Sammy,” you let out, your head falling back. “Sam, my room.” 

He smiles like he’s won a prize you didn’t know was on the table before helping you to the ground, only to push you onto the wall right next to it, another deep kiss—

“For fucks sake, Sammy.” You laugh against Sam’s lips as Dean groans, walking into the kitchen. 

title: blowing smoke by gracie abrams

This was a request, hope you liked it! If you wanna be tagged for anything and everything Sam Winchester, comment! Also this is maybe as much smut as I’ll do, I’ll probably go a little further but I didn’t want to for this fix but next one maybe or remedy. Requests are open!

masterlist

[cfierce116]

No Sleep Part Two

A/N: Thank you to everyone for the support for Part One. Hope you all enjoy the next installment. Also, if anybody wants to be tagged for updates please let me know.

*Pairings: Jey Uso/OC (black fem)

*Warnings: 18+

*Word Count: Approximately 4600 words.

“I shoulda went home.” 

Imani smacked her lips as she rolled onto her other side trying to find a comfortable position in the queen sized bed in Sefa and Krystle's guest room. It was several hours after dinner and she was trying to force herself to get a few hours of sleep before she had to drag herself to work. Once the group returned to the couple's house, the liquor continued to flow (or water in Imani's case because she refused to have a hangover at work) as they played cards and listened to music. Like at dinner, the conversation flowed easily and despite her earlier protests Imani was happy she decided against ending her night early especially since she got to spend extra time with Josh. As the night continued in Imani found herself relaxing more around Josh. He was easy to talk to and actually seemed interested in whatever she had to say. Watching him and Sefa crack jokes on one another reminded her of watching her own three older brothers doing the same whenever they reunited during the holidays.

However, the later it got the more drowsy Imani got. She was not lying when she told Krystle that her days of partying into the wee hours of the morning were long gone and even her staying up until a quarter to 3 AM was pushing her limits. Imani quickly lost the battle against Krystle, Sefa, and Josh to order an Uber to go back to her apartment which is how she eventually wound up in the guest room. On one hand she was grateful to have friends that cared about her wellbeing that also had a guest room for her to crash in.

But on the other hand, she wanted to strangle both Krystle and Sefa for keeping her awake with the loud giggling happening in the room next to her as Sefa did God knows what to her best friend's body.

Don’t get her wrong she was happy for her best friend finding the love of her life. The two of them were perfect for one another. However, Imani could’ve been happy for them without hearing them get frisky with each other since she herself was in the middle of a year long dry spell. 

It wasn’t as if her dry spell was intentional. After her latest heartbreak with another man who decided to show his true colors after wasting Imani’s time for two years, Imani made the choice to take a break from dating and focus on her career and working on herself. Learning how to enjoy being single and figuring out who she was without letting her personality be dictated by whoever she was dating at the time. After a year of self reflection, Imani finally decided she was ready to dip her toe back into the dating pool to see what was out there. 

But all she found was trash. Nothing but trash. 

After a few dates Imani still hadn’t made a connection with anybody. There was either no spark between her and the men that sat across from her, the date reminiscent of going to grab a quick bite to eat with one of her older brothers. Or she detected a red flag that sent her running far away as quickly as she could, determined to not allow herself fall into the familiar trap of her thinking she could ignore the flags and fix the man instead. While some people (namely her mom Joyce who was desperate for a grandchild from her only daughter) thought Imani might have been setting her expectations and requirements too high, she believed she was simply weeding out the men who weren’t right for her because she would be damned if she would waste her time on a man that wasn’t worth it. And if she had to remain single until she met her perfect match then so be it.

Yet there were still nights like tonight, where she was being subjected to hearing her best friend’s moans over her head when the loneliness felt extremely suffocating. 

Deciding she couldn’t handle listening to the frolicking going on next door, Imani quietly slipped out of the bed and started searching for her belongings. If she left now, she could make it back to her place within thirty minutes. She folded the dress she wore earlier into a neat pile and grabbed her heels off the floor opting to carry them instead of wearing them so Krystle wouldn’t discover her trying to leave. Regardless of being an adult and knowing she could make whatever decision she wanted, Imani really didn’t want to deal with another repeat of Krystle trying to convince her to stay the night.  

Imani stepped out of the guest room and sneakily walked towards the stairs, easing down each step before reaching the main floor. She reached inside her purse and pulled out her phone to request another Uber ride.

“Sneakin out?” 

Imani quietly yelped at the voice behind her and quickly twirled around.  Her eyes landed on Josh who stood in the kitchen drinking a bottle of water. She stopped her gaze from traveling over his body, his chest bare and showing off his intricate tribal tattoos and his lower half covered in a pair of gray basketball shorts. Imani placed her hand over her chest as she tried to catch her breath – whether it was from Josh startling her or the image before her she didn’t know. 

“I am not sneaking out.” 

Josh smirked. “So why you tiptoein around here with your stuff?” 

“I didn’t wanna disturb anybody that’s all.” Imani and Josh held their stare before erupting in laughter. “Fine. You caught me. I am sneaking out. But I shoulda just took my ass home in the first place. It’s so hard for me to sleep anywhere besides my bed and having to listen to those two act like horny teenagers I can’t get a wink of sleep.” 

“What was it that you told me at dinner? Be nice - they’re annoying but they’re sweet,” Josh joked with a laugh. 

Imani rolled her eyes. “Fuck that I like my sleep. I don’t see how you stay here when you come visit.” 

“It usually don’t bother me because I can sleep through anything. But since I’m sleepin’ in the guest room down here I can barely hear em.” 

Imani furrowed her brow. “There’s not a guest room down here.” 

“You standing in it.” 

Imani glanced behind her to see a bedsheet and a pillow on the couch behind her. “You’re sleeping in the living room?” 

Josh shrugged as he finished the last drop of water. “I ain’t picky. Just gimme a flat surface and I can fall asleep anywhere,” he said as he walked to the corner where the trash can and recycling bin sat dropping the empty bottle into the bin. 

Imani watched as Josh walked to the couch and plopped down, stretching his legs out in front of him. She dropped the items in her hand on a chair and walked in front of him, placing a hand on her hip.

“Wait you usually sleep in the room upstairs? Why didn’t y’all just say that? I coulda slept down here.” 

“I’m not lettin’ you sleep on a couch Imani. It’s fine I told you I’m not picky.” 

Imani pushed away the guilt she felt for taking the guest room from Josh as she gently dropped down on the couch next to him. She flashed him a small smile. “Thanks for the drinks tonight. Although I should’ve stopped at one shot.” 

“It’s yo birthday. A few shots ain’t gonna hurt,” Josh said with a wink. He glanced over Imani’s body that was now dressed in a pair of gray leggings Krystle loaned her to sleep in with an oversized white t-shirt. Her hair was tossed into a messy high ponytail exposing her slender neck that was adorned with a simple thin gold necklace. ”So did you enjoy yo’self tonight?” he asked after a few seconds of silence. 

“You know I actually did. It felt nice to let loose and relax for a few hours,” Imani answered with a smile. “Sorry you had to spend one of your few off days tagging along to a birthday dinner so I wouldn’t feel like a third wheel loser.” 

Josh smacked his lips. “Ay, you not a loser.”

“I’m just saying I’m sure you could’ve found something better to do with your time. Call up one of your many girlfriends to link up with.” 

Josh softly laughed and ran his hand over his hair, pushing it off his forehead temporarily before it fell back in place, errant strands framing his face. “Look I ain’t gonna sit up here and pretend I couldn’t have called up some other woman to hang with tonight.” 

“Of course you could’ve.” 

“But I didn’t because I wanted to spend time with you. And I had fun,” Josh said with a smirk. “None of them other chicks are you Imani.” 

Imani chuckled softly. “Wow Krys was right. You are a charmer.” 

A heavy silence filled the room after Imani’s statement and she mentally kicked herself. She barely knew Josh and here she was being her typical sarcastic self that she usually reserved for her conversations with Krystle. Turning to mumble a quick apology to Josh before getting ready to head home, Imani movements halted as her eyes locked with his. Intensity burned in his gaze as he stared at her making her stomach flutter with nervousness as her skin’s temperature increased, sweat gathering on her palms and between her legs.

At least she thought that was sweat. 

“I sho-“

“You really don’t get it do you?” 

Imani’s face crinkled with confusion. “I don’t know what you mea-“

Imani’s words instantly died on her lips as Josh quickly thread his fingers through her ponytail and pulled her face closer to his, smashing his lips against hers. The movement caught her off guard as her body stumbled backwards from the impact. A few seconds later her brain registered what was happening and she naturally relaxed in Josh’s arms, wrapping her arms around his neck as she returned the kiss. His plush lips moved in unison with hers as his tongue slipped between the seam of her lips. Imani released a soft moan the moment their tongues touched making Josh’s grip on her ponytail tighten as he groaned lowly. 

The sound of his groan snapped Imani back to reality and she pulled away quickly, remembering what she was doing and who she was doing it with. She quickly stood up to distance herself from Josh, not trusting herself to be close to him. 

“Josh-“

“Damn that was better than I imagined,” Josh interjected.

Imani’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?” 

Josh stood as well, adjusting his basketball shorts. Imani quickly diverted her gaze from him choosing to stare at her pale pink painted toenails instead. 

“You tellin me you really don’t know?” Josh asked. Imani shook her head as she continued to avoid his eyes. He stepped towards her and placed his index finger underneath her chin, lifting her head. The fire in his stare made her pulse quicken as she felt stuck in place, her eyes watching as he slowly licked his lips.

“Imani I like you.”  

Confusion washed over Imani’s face. “What?”

“I like you,” Josh repeated. 

“You do?” 

“Yeah For a minute now actually.  Like why do you think every time I see you around I always go out of my way to speak to you? Or the amount of times I comment on your posts and slide into your DMs on Instagram?”

“I just thought you were being friendly. I didn’t think nothing of it.” Imani shrugged. 

Josh chuckled. “Shit I spent the past two weeks pleading with Krys to let me come to dinner tonight. Even had to get Uce to plead my case and shit with her too.” 

“Wait, Krys knows?” Imani asked, her light brown eyes widening more. 

“Hell yeah Krys knows. Sefa knows. Jon knows. Joe knows. Trinity knows. I guess everybody knows but you.” 

Silence fell over the two as Imani tried to figure out how everybody else knew about how Josh felt about her but her.  Memories of the brief conversations they shared whenever they crossed paths or managed to end up sitting next to each other when Krystle and Sefa had a gathering at their house flooded her brain. Josh was always nice to her, always greeting her when he saw her and asking her how things were going. But he never made a move to indicate he was interested in her. 

And sure he slid into her DMs on a couple occasions with an emoji response to one of her stories or some corny joke that made her chuckle. But she never thought much of that either because she was positive a man that was as fine as him slid into plenty of DMs. She simply thought it was Josh being Josh. 

Clearly it was much more than that.

Imani crossed her arms over her chest as she stared at the man in front of her. “So if everyone knew why didn’t you tell me?” 

Josh nervously chuckled as he released the hold he had on Imani’s chin. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Shit I ain’t think I had a chance.” 

“Why not?” 

Josh stepped away from her as he started pacing. “You seem like the type of woman that wants a man that’s the CEO of some big time corporation or some shit like that. Has multiple degrees. Drives a luxury SUV that’s big enough to drive the kids y’all will eventually have to school and after school activities. Knows which forks to use when he takes you to a fancy restaurant.  A man that would know all the right things to say instead of getting nervous every time y’all speak.” Josh stuffed his hands inside the pockets of his shorts and shrugged as he continued to pace. “So basically the opposite of me.”

Imani’s expression softened as her brain registered Josh’s words. On screen Jey Uso was an overly confident, charismatic, energetic superstar. But Josh was showing her a side of him that she hadn’t seen before. Sure he still had that same swagger and charm as his television persona. But in this moment of vulnerability he was giving her a glimpse of his timid and uncertain side, features that reminded her of how she behaved around him. Before her brain could protest Imani reached out and grabbed his forearm which stopped his movements.

“Josh-“

Josh shook his head and held up his hand, an uneasy smile spreading across his face. “You know what just forget I said anything Mani. I’m sorry for gettin weird and kissin you.” He turned to walk away.

“I like you too!” Imani blurted, her hand immediately covering her mouth.

Josh’s head whipped around towards Imani, curiously eyeing her. “Huh?” 

Imani chuckled nervously as she silently berated herself for the word vomit ungraciously spilling out of her mouth. She bounced her weight from one leg to the other and exhaled. 

“I like you. Hell I’ve liked you for a while too,” Imani admitted. 

A relieved grin spread across Josh’s lips as he also crossed his arms, mimicking her earlier stance. “So why you ain’t say something?” 

“We might actually have more in common than you think because I also didn’t think I had a chance. Never thought I was your type.” 

“My type?” Josh asked. “Whatchu mean by that?” 

“Let’s be for real. You’re a WWE superstar. You can choose any woman you want in any city you visit. If I were to put money on it I would guarantee you would go for the Instagram baddie with the fat ass wearing the best designer clothes the world has to offer instead of a plain jane with a small ass who shops at Old Navy.” 

Josh shook his head. “Ay stop that shit. There’s nothin plain jane about you. You’re beautiful and you look fine as hell in anything you wear.” 

Imani pursed her lips together to stop the goofy smile from appearing on her face. “I’m just saying I know I’m not the kind of woman that makes men go wild with desire. And I’m not like Krys - bubbly and full of personality who can easily talk to anybody she meets. I’m mild mannered and reserved. I just prefer to keep a low profile and most of the time that means men overlook me.” 

“I don’t overlook you,” Josh countered. “Hell every time you walk into a room I can’t keep my eyes off of you.” 

“Really?” Surprise dripped from Imani’s voice. 

“Yeah really. You have this vibe that just oozes confidence you know. You have this understated beauty where you don’t need flashy clothes to stand out you just do so naturally. Yeah you keep a low profile but I like that the most about you. You don’t have to be loud to get noticed you just happy stayin in the background and chillin. I think you only share your energy with people that you think are worthy enough to experience it. And I wanna be one of those people.” 

Josh stepped closer to Imani, the heat from his body engulfing her own and making her lightheaded. Like earlier his gaze remained steady on her but this time she didn’t look away.  She felt her breath hitch in her throat as his brown orbs stared deep into her eyes, her soul feeling exposed. 

“I wish you could see yo’self the way that I see you.” 

Before Imani could respond Josh’s lips descended upon hers in another searing kiss. She pushed every thought out of her mind that screamed at her to pull away as her hands ran through his hair, her nails lightly scratching his scalp. Her mouth swallowed his deep groan as his muscular arms wrapped around her waist pulling her body flush against his. Imani whimpered softly as she felt his hardened dick pressing into her thigh, his large hands roughly grabbing her ass. 

Josh quickly moved his mouth to the base of Imani’s neck his lips sucking on the space that connected her neck to her collarbone making her hiss softly.

“Talkin’ about you ain’t got no ass. What’s all this back here huh?” He asked with a grunt, squeezing harder to accentuate his question.

“Mmmm Josh,” Imani gasped as she tilted her head back to give him more room to mark. Her eyes fluttered closed, pleasure coursing through her body.

“Keep sayin my name like that I ain’t gonna be able to stop,” Josh warned. 

“Who says I want you to?”

Josh pulled away from Imani holding her at arms length. “Imani look at me,” he commanded. The moment her eyes cracked open and locked with his he sucked in a sharp breath. Desire and lust sparkled in her eyes as her chest heaved up and down with every breath she took. “You sure? Cuz I ain’t tryna make you do anything you ain’t ready for.”

Imani tugged on her bottom lip with her teeth as she silently pondered Josh’s question. She couldn’t comprehend how she ended up in this position with the man she had been crushing on but here she was. Typical Imani would choose this moment to completely halt the brakes and run away. Or pull out a pen and paper to jot down the pros and cons for having sex with Josh. But for the first time in a long time she didn’t give a fuck about the consequences. She just wanted to shut her brain off and finally allow herself to do what felt right. 

Imani wordlessly stepped closer to Josh and wrapped her arm around his neck. She started to press soft kisses to his throat, the coolness of his chain a sharp contrast  against his burning skin. Her lips moved up and across his jawline his beard prickling her chin. She smirked against his neck as he sucked in a ragged breath while his dick continued to come alive in his shorts. His hand squeezed Imani’s ass again before slapping it causing her to whimper softly. Imani reached for the waistband of his shorts and started to push them down his legs.  

Josh placed his larger free hand over Imani’s. Her eyes snapped up to his, confused. Josh shook his head.

“Nah. Tonight is all bout you birthday girl.”

Before Imani could protest, Josh grabbed the hem of the t-shirt she wore and haphazardly yanked it over her head revealing her black lace bra. He groaned loudly at the sight of her breasts threatening to spill out of the fabric. He grabbed her covered breasts and squeezed them roughly forcing her to groan before he quickly moved to unsnap the clasp in the back. Once her breasts were freed Josh pushed Imani down on the couch and climbed on top of her and buried his head in between her cleavage.  He peppered kisses on her skin, his tongue creating a trail of saliva from the middle of her chest towards her breast. The second his mouth engulfed her nipple, Imani moaned loudly, her arms wrapping around his neck to hold him in place.

“Fuuuccckkk Josh,” Imani whimpered. Her heartbeat rumbled in her ears as he continued to suck and lightly bite her nipples before moving to her other breast to repeat the actions. She should’ve felt embarrassed by how easily undone she was becoming simply from him sucking her breasts but her drought made her body extremely sensitive to his touch.  “Oh fuck don’t stop.” 

Despite her plea, Josh raised his head a devious glint in his eye. His fingers hooked inside the waistband of her leggings and he started to pull them down. 

“Trust me I could suck on yo big ass titties for hours. But there’s something else I wanna do to you. You ok with that bae?”

Anticipation bubbled in Imani’s stomach as her body moved on autopilot. She lifted her hips so he could remove the intrusive garment completely from her body. She bit her bottom lip shyly as Josh’s eyes roamed over her completely naked body.

“I knew yo ass ain’t have on no panties when I saw you walk down those steps,” Josh mumbled shaking his head with a chuckle. He glanced up at Imani, hunger sparkling in his brown eyes. “Tell me what you want Mani.” 

Deciding now was not the time to be bashful, Imani silently thanked Krystle for the many times she dragged her to an early morning yoga class before they started work. Imani wordlessly raised her legs and reached between them, grabbing her ankles and contorting her body to reveal her dripping pussy to Josh. 

“Eat my pussy bae.”

Josh’s eyes widened at the sight of Imani’s fully exposed pussy in front of him. The sight of her juices dripping between her folds made his chocolate brown eyes darken with passion as he carefully lowered himself to his knees in front of her.  His hands softly caressed her thighs before he hooked his arms under them pulling her closer to the edge of the couch. Imani watched with bated breath as he wrapped her legs around his neck, wedging his face in between her limbs. He kissed her thighs softly, slowly moving towards her core. He smirked against her skin as she impatiently thrusted her hips towards him silently begging for him to stop teasing her. Josh looked up at Imani, admiring her half lidded eyes glazed over with lust, her full lips partially open to suck in oxygen.

“Relax baby. I got you,” Josh said with a wink.

Imani’s drawn out moan filled the room as Josh’s long tongue snaked out of his mouth and licked the juices between her lips before dragging upward and landing on her clit.

“Oh fuck!” Imani cried out. Her hips thrust upward at the feeling of Josh’s tongue on her pussy as she clenched her eyes closed. His strong arms forced her hips back down as he completely buried his face between her legs, his mouth enclosing around her clit and sucking on it. Sweat gathered on Imani’s chest as Josh began to devour her pussy. It was everything she had dreamed it to be. His mouth was sinful but heavenly at the same time. His movements were erratic but methodical.  It was as if somebody had gave him a road map to her pussy that he studied to create the perfect course of action to make her lose her fuckin mind. 

“Damn this pussy sweeter than I thought it would be,” Josh mumbled after he released Imani’s clit from his mouth. He pulled her labia into his mouth and sucked on it making Imani’s moans increase in volume. He released her lip with a loud and appalling plopping noise before directing his attention to her other lip repeating the actions, softly nibbling on the flesh. 

 Imani’s breathing grew shallow as Josh’s tongue swirled around in her juices that continuously descended in a rainfall motion before he slipped it inside her quivering hole. The calloused fingertip of his index finger found her clit and started to rub it in a circular motion, the pressure from the pad of his finger just right. 

“Ah fuck fuck fuck,” Imani chanted as Josh removed his tongue from inside her. He quickly replaced it with the index and middle finger of his free hand, the two digits moving in a scissoring motion. Her walls gripped his fingers tightly and he started to thrust them back and forth.  

“Yeah go ahead and fuck Daddy fingers just like that,” Josh encouraged with a smirk. He felt his dick throbbing in his shorts as he watched her body beginning to stiffen with tension, his keen sense telling him Imani was close to shattering. “Can’t wait to get up in this fuckin pussy Mani. Fuck the shit out yo sexy ass. How that sound bae?”  

Imani nodded her head mindlessly before Josh dived back between her legs his tongue attacking her pussy with sucks and licks. Her upper torso rose from the couch as she felt a tingling sensation in her legs. Her ass cheeks clenched together as her hips started to raise uncontrollably.  “Ah shit Josh I-I-”

“You about to cum baby? Don’t hold back. Go ahead and cum right on Daddy face.” 

“Fuck Josh!” Imani cried out as her orgasm rammed into her at lighting speed. Her toes curled forward as juices drizzled from her pussy into Josh’s awaiting mouth. Imani’s body flailed around on the couch as she tried to pull away from Josh as he continued to suck on her clit extending her orgasm. But he was too powerful and her resistance was in vain as he kept her right where he wanted her, forcing her to endure the pleasure that was racking her body.  She continued to mewl his name as her orgasm started to subside, her body unfurling and heart rate slowly decreasing. 

“Open your eyes baby.” 

Imani slowly cracked open her light brown eyes locking onto Josh’s glistening orbs. His lips coated in Imani’s essence spread into a sexy smile and if she wasn’t so worn out she would’ve had another orgasm just staring at him. 

“You so sexy when you scream my name.” 

Imani rolled her eyes playfully as she flipped Josh off with a giggle. He unwrapped her legs from his neck and placed her feet on the floor. With as much strength as she could muster, Imani sat up and gently grabbed Josh by his chain and pulled him to her. She captured his lips in a kiss.  Josh groaned as he thrust his tongue inside Imani’s mouth allowing her to taste herself before he wrapped his hand around her ponytail and tugged. 

“Now if you two are finally done down there can yall keep it down? Some of us gotta be up early tomorrow you know!” Krystle yelled from upstairs. 

Imani and Josh jerked away from one another, their eyes widened in shock. They shared another look before they broke out into laughter as their cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Josh grabbed the t-shirt Imani wore earlier and handed it to her. Once she pulled it over her head, he pulled her to her feet and wrapped his arm around her shoulder as they started walking towards the stairs.

Josh placed a kiss on her temple.  “Don’t worry about they ass bae. Consider it payback for them keeping you up earlier,” he said causing Imani to laugh as they made their way to the guest room. 

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