#got a call from her office the day before that she’d had a personal | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

too-deviant · 6 months

Text

jackie and wilson.

previous | next series masterlist.

summary: you haven’t been given a quest, but you have made it your personal mission to make luke castellan smile.

paring: luke castellan x unclaimed!reader

word count: 4k

content: luke is still a moody teenager, reader is still the fly he cant get rid of. does he really want to, though?

notes: these first two parts feel very introductory but it gets juicy as we dive a little further in the next parts hehe. also who do we think readers godly parent is?

PART II — and lord, she found me just in time

For a hotshot lawyer, your mom couldn’t lie for the life of her. Every time you brought it up, she’d always quip that she didn’t need to be a good liar to be a good lawyer, since all new evidence is legally required to be disclosed to both parties before they are presented in court. Therefore, there is no lying, only brief twisting of the truth. She was good at that — clearly.

“You said you didn’t want me to leave you!”

The wooden floor of Chiron’s office wasn’t the most comfortable of lounging places, but you’d accidentally kicked the radiator after tripping over a horseshoe and Mr. D — who had escorted you there when you’d asked about speaking to your mom — had just sighed and told you to use the mist currently spraying from it as a form of communication. The whole Iris Message thing was still unusual to you, but at the same time, you’d tripped over a horseshoe because the owner of the office was half-horse. Does it get weirder than that? Probably not.

You leaned back on your haunches, disbelief written all over your face at the scene you…walked in on? Called in on? Iris Messaged in on? Whatever — you were more worried about what you were looking at than the right terminology to describe it.

“Oh — sweetie!” Your mom was quick to hop down from the kitchen counter, pushing the man who had been standing between her legs away from her so forcefully he fell back into the living room.

“What was that?” You heard him ask from afar. Your mom chuckled, buttoning up her blouse.

“The answering machine.” She excused, “I completely forgot I was supposed to call back my daughter. Would you give me a minute?”

The man agreed with a huff and your mom pushed the kitchen door closed with a click before looking at you, narrowing her eyes and crossing her arms, “I didn’t. I sure do now!”

“I’ve been gone for, like, two days!” You exclaimed, “And you’re already inviting your boyfriend over? How old are you?”

“Oh, let it go.” The woman chastised, shaking her head and attempting to push down her amused smile. “I was bored.”

“Bored.” You chuckled, “Of course.”

“But I miss you.” She said then, smiling sweetly and leaning her hip on the island, “How’s camp?”

“It’s great.” You grinned, “The people are great, the food is great. Turns out, I am super with a spear.”

“A spear, huh?” Your mom nodded, “No surprise there, you’ve got a hell of an arm.”

You hummed excitedly, the previous event long forgotten as you filled her in on your first few days at camp, “One of my friends in cabin nine offered to make me a personal one.” Your mom furrowed her brows, “Children of Hephaestus. Blacksmith guy.”

“Right.” She nodded with a click of her tongue. “Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.” You smirked cheekily, ignoring the scoff and evil look she sent you in response.

“Alright. I best go.” She interrupted just as you went to make another comment about her guest, “I will see you at the end of summer. Okay?”

“Okay. Love you.”

Truthfully, you were happy to spend the rest of the day talking to your mom — it was so hot that morning that you’d thought about sacrificing your breakfast to Apollo in hopes that he’d ease up a little. You decided against it and just sent your prayers to each of them in general, hoping maybe your dad could fess up to actually being your dad.

Clarisse had suspected you would soon join her in the Ares Cabin — something about your skills with a spear and the swift right hook you sent Chris when he made one too many comments on your form during your training session with her. You weren’t even sure why he’d been there, but you could probably fathom a guess if you judged by the looks he sent her whenever she wasn’t looking.

After the exciting discovery that yes, you were good at something, Mr. D had come by to say you could either call your mom now or never. You chose the former option, obviously, and you only regretted it slightly as you heaved yourself up from the ground — already missing the sound of her voice.

You didn’t let it linger, instead you pushed the creaky door of the Big House open as gently as you could, even though it still swung back against the wall, and nodded at the pair sitting on the porch, currently in a heated card game you couldn’t recognise. They didn’t look at you for long, Chiron muttering something about meeting the Demeter kids by the fields to test your gardening skills before putting down a card that made Mr. D grumble in his seat.

You were trudging through the grass, huffing when the longer bits tickled your legs and made you go all itchy, when you spotted a body sat by the hearth in the horseshoe of cabins. You lit up, changing course and jogging over to them, “JoJo!”

Luke looked up at you, frowning, “What?”

His curls fell over his eyes and he shook them away, only to squint at the sun that shone into them. You sidestepped, your shadow proving ample shade so he could focus on you, and you stammered a bit when his face fell into focus. He was pretty.

You let out a breathless chuckle, folding your arms, “From Horton Hears a Who.” He shows no signs of recognition, “You’ve never seen it?” Again, his face did little to answer you, so you shrugged, “Whatever. I’ll get an answer out of you one day, I’m sure. We’ve made steady progress.”

“Have we?” He hummed, picking at the worn sleeve of his hoodie.

“Of course we have, ya’ nutmegger.” You quipped with a short chuckle, grinning when his eyes snapped back to yours.

“You still haven’t told me where you’re from.”

You tutted, “Where’s the fun in that? You gotta find out.”

He huffed, “Whatever.”

Since his outburst about New England the day before, Luke had done a considerable job at avoiding you. Well, you didn’t think he was doing it on purpose — he just wasn’t obligated to spend time with you anymore now that you were cleared to roam camp on your own. You’d seen him at breakfast, perched silently on the end of the bench and staring sadly at his soggy oatmeal, but then Clarisse had whisked you off to the training fields with Chris hot on her tail and you hadn’t seen him since.

You weren’t completely sure why you were so determined to break his shell. Maybe it was because you knew he never used to be this way — that underneath the deep frowns and annoyed huffs, was a happy boy who would spend days in the sun with his teeth bared in a wide grin — and you yearned to get a peek of who Luke Castellan used to be. To bear your eyes on the side of him he kept away and to find out why he did so, to understand him on a level deeper than anyone around you did, or even deeper than you understood yourself.

Or maybe because he’s hot.

Either way, you weren’t letting him slide away that easily. No sir. You straightened your back, “Going to the gardens.”

No reply, as usual.

A huff, “Mind walking me? I don’t wanna get lost.”

He looked at you, brown eyes flitting over your expression, before licking his lips and standing, “Fine.”

You grinned then, wide and sunny, “Great.”

You knew where the gardens were — hell, you could see them from where you stood, the two teenage sons of Dionysus chasing each other with sticks while the Demeter kids scowled at them. But you were new, and Luke was ‘the guy’ for all the new campers, so really he wasn’t allowed to say no.

You were desperate to know more about him; his favourite sport, movie, colour. Anything irrelevant that you could see in public and think: Luke. You just didn’t know where to start — he could shut down at any given moment, so which question was more fitting to ask before he built up his walls and fucked off?

You settled for something easy — something subtle that wouldn’t hint towards you asking about him. An easy question that any reasonable tour guide would have to answer.

“So, do you guys host any…mortal activities?” Looking up at him in question, brows raised as he once again made no indication that he’d even heard you speak.

But he had, “Not usually. Sometimes on weekends we’ll play volleyball on the beach, and I think Lee Fletcher has a soccer ball he kicks around but…” He shrugged, “No. Not really.”

You hummed, “You said we. Do you play volleyball?”

Nice one.

Luke stiffened a little, sort of appalled that you’d swerved the question on him so easily, but he answered with a grumble, “Not anymore.”

“Why?”

He shrugged, “Grew out of it.”

“Huh.” You said then, facing forward with a nod and continuing your trek through the long grass, occasionally reaching down to scratch your calves, “I don’t think I’ll ever grow out of baseball.”

Come on, Castellan, take the bait.

“Baseball?”

“Yes!” You exclaimed, a little too excitedly for it to be a simple answer to a simple question. You lowered your volume and gave a more collected nod, “Yeah. Yes. I’ve played since I was old enough…little league.” You let out a weak chuckle, suddenly shy about the subject.

Luke nodded at you, “First base?”

“Left field.” You corrected with a proud smile, “I got legs.”

“Oh.” He replied, a little caught off guard at that. Although, he was also caught off guard when you said you played baseball.

You were debating whether or not to press when a gangly blonde boy with dark purple eyes jogged up to you and held out a wicker basket, “You’re the new kid right?” He didn’t wait for an answer before thrusting the basket to your chest, “I’m Pollux. We’re picking strawberries, c’mon, I’ll show you the best way to get ‘em.”

You weren’t sure there was a specific tactic to picking strawberries, but you stepped to follow him anyway. Turning your head to send a thankful smile to Luke for walking you down, you spotted him looking between you and Pollux with furrowed brows — then he noticed your stare and swallowed, nodding, “Uh, see you later.”

“Bye.” You replied, slightly starstruck. He walked off, but he did it slowly as if he was unsure of where to go next. You were positive he had somewhere to be — big shot counsellor and all — but as you stood, one foot in front of the other, face turned back to watch him go, he seemed to stutter in his steps at the top of the hill, deciding where to turn. His beaten converse led him west, and Pollux yelled you out of your stupor so you could help him and his brother pick strawberries.

As suspected, your strawberry-picking skills were pretty much the same as everyone else’s — really, how can one person be any better at picking strawberries than another? It’s a very simple task. Either way, Castor and Pollux didn’t envision you as their long lost sister, and the Demeter kids apparently couldn’t smell it on you that you were one of them, whatever that meant, so you were back to your search for daddy dearest — at this point, you weren’t even sure if you wanted to find out anymore. All this hassle and for what? It’s not as if he was going to attend the daddy-daughter dance with you, no matter which god he might be.

“So, do you, like, know Luke or something?”

Henry Furstatt was a Demeter kid a couple of years younger than you, who had been set the task of walking you to the lake where you would rejoin the Hermes cabin on their canoe lesson. He wasn’t very talkative until you’d put some distance between yourselves and the strawberry fields, where he posed his question.

You glanced at him with a thoughtful frown, “I mean, he’s been showing me around the past couple days, so…I guess —“

“I meant like,” He swallowed, waving his hands around, “from before. Did you know each other before you came to camp?”

“Oh.” You responded, tucking a loose hair that had fallen in front of your face away, “No. Why’d you think that?”

Henry shrugged, his loose-fitting camp shirt doing wonders to hide the movements, “Dunno. He just hasn’t talked to many people since he got back from his quest…but he’s talking to you.”

“Well.” You were suddenly a little sheepish — were you pushing Luke too much? Was your constant questioning making him uncomfortable? You were only on a mission to find out more about him because he interested you, but did you interest him, or was he ready to boot you as far as you’d fly? “He has to, doesn’t he? He’s still a counsellor, even if he does hate everyone here.”

“True.” He settled with a nod, fiddling with a daisy he’d picked while you were walking.

You breathed a content sigh when you finally stepped out of the grass — the summer blooming made it slightly unbearable to walk through, tickling at your legs the whole afternoon. The beating sun didn’t make you feel any nicer, but you just wafted your shirt a little as you walked past the Hermes cabin and towards the dock.

Camp was always noisy; something you’d grown accustomed to the longer you stayed there. You never really noticed it until you were alone, but the chatter of the kids filled the air the whole day and only really faded out when they all went to sleep. It was slightly unnerving to sit in the silence, and the loud murmurs often comforted you — made you feel less suffocated as the new kid. Less eyes on you, the better.

You were so used to the noise, in fact, that you almost completely brushed past the argument that was brewing outside the Ares cabin just a few metres away. Fortunately, Henry spotted the commotion, and pulled you to a halt in favour of staring at the ever-growing crowd.

You followed his eyeline and spotted a burly looking boy with black hair — when he moved his head and the sun hit the right spots, you could see dark red highlights swimming in his locks. You thought that was a little bit much, but you forfeited commenting on it considering the giant machaira that hung on his back.

The boy in question was sneering at someone in front of him, but the corners of his mouth were perked up in an amused smile that made you think he wasn’t angry yet, but he sure was getting there. You couldn’t see who he was talking to, but as Henry ventured closer, you were forced to follow and eventually his words reached your ears.

“—big shot golden boy finally got himself a quest and doesn’t fancy sharing the details.” He laughed, deep and low in his throat.

Henry patted someone on the shoulder, and they stepped aside to let him into the circle. You stayed behind him, watching over his head and finally checking out the opponent. Your eyes stopped on the familiar figure, and his familiar curls that hung over his eyes — eyes that were glaring daggers in the Ares kid’s direction, casting shadows over his cheekbones and making his scar look a little menacing.

The boy continued after Luke showed no signs of replying, “We get it, Castellan. You failed, but that doesn’t mean you get to gatekeep the whole thing.”

“Dean, man.” You finally noticed Chris, standing off to the side of Luke and glancing at his brother in apprehension at the boy's words. “Back off.”

Dean just snorted, “Don’t defend him, Rodriguez. We let him mope, now it’s time for him to spill the beans.” He took a step closer to Luke, “What happened on your quest?”

You had only known Luke for two days. You weren’t sure if he was the type to fly off the handle, swing before reasoning, but you suddenly became aware that neither did anyone else. Sure, these people had known him for years — but you’d heard it from enough people to know that he was a different person these days. After his quest a couple of weeks ago, people had been walking on eggshells around the boy. Maybe a month ago, he would’ve calmly walked away and let Dean simmer in his anger. But now? Nobody could be sure, but judging by the look in his eyes, darkening by the second, you might be able to fathom a guess as to what he’s going to do with his hands now that they were rolled into fists.

“I mean, is this about glory? Because you won’t exactly be sharing it — ya’ can’t share what you don’t have.” Dean let out a chortle at his own joke, looking between his friends around him and grinning with them.

Luke stepped forward. And — you couldn’t blame anyone, really. After that last comment, you were all expecting fists to be swung. It was only reasonable. Maybe the old Luke wouldn’t have done it, but this new Luke was looking increasingly more angry at the world as the days went by, so when he took one measly step forward, the crowd around him let out a collective woah! and put their hands out to stop him from lunging. Including yourself.

Only he wasn’t about to punch Dean. His hand stayed dormant at his side, the only clear movement was the single step closer he’d taken to match the one the Ares boy had made earlier. He was only really stepping forward so his next words would hit harder — that’s all it was, words. They died on his lips when he realised the implications of his actions, looking between the outstretched arms and tense faces.

He looked at Dean, “We can discuss quests when you get your own.”

Then he walked off, past the crowd that didn’t bother stopping him. Looking around, you saw the looks on their faces — shame, from assuming Luke would evoke such violence off the sparring mat. You definitely felt it, but you didn’t stick around long enough to confirm that with anyone else. Instead, you left Chris to berate Dean in place of the head counsellor and followed the boy in question as he huffed up the hill towards the edge of the woods.

“Hey!” You said, breathless (you were not an uphill climber). “Hey, Luke!”

He hesitated in his steps like he did earlier, but he didn’t turn around. His head twitched a little, like he wanted to look but was holding himself back, but you simply rounded him until you were face to face. The anger had long since dissolved from his expression, replaced with soft confusion.

“Hi.” You huffed, still recovering from that incline, “Are you okay? That guy’s a dick.”

“I know.” He replied, short as usual.

You licked your lips, still catching your breath, and nodded. He remained silent, looking around you like he was just waiting for you to leave. You decided to take the hint, muttering lowly, “Okay, sorry for bothering you.”

But his hand reached out, circling your wrist just as you passed him. You looked at Luke, raising your eyebrows, watching as he stammered on his words, “I, uh, you aren’t bothering me. I just…”

He let go of you and you stepped back to your precious spot. Behind him, the crowd had dissipated, Dean long gone. Chris remained, staring up at the pair of you on top of the hill. You couldn’t pinpoint his expression, but he seemed to hesitate before turning his back. You looked up at Luke.

“Why did you…come after me?”

You scoffed a laugh, “What? Anyone would’ve, it’s like…common decency.”

He twisted his expression, looking amused and devastated all at the same time, “But they didn’t.”

He was right; before you’d set off up the hill, everyone had just been watching him walk off. It seemed a little out of character, but then again, you didn’t know these people as well as you thought. Luke let out a sad chuckle, shaking his head, “Everyone’s sorta given up on me now that I’m…”

“Moody and depressed?” You finished, raising a single brow. You smiled at him, and it lifted into a grin when he smiled back, albeit only slightly. But you’d take it. “I just think that they’re a little unsure.”

“They’re scared, is what they are.” He said firmly, staring at the ground in mirth, “Their precious golden boy won’t clean up all of their messes anymore and they’re scared that they’ll have to start looking after themselves.”

“I don’t think that’s true.” You said, even if you didn’t believe it. How could you? You didn’t know these people, Luke did. “They’re just worried about you.”

He scoffed, finally moving his head up and meeting your eyes. He went to say something, presumably another quip about the campers, but stopped himself. Backtracked. Instead he said, “Aren’t you angry that you haven’t been claimed yet?”

That was a deep question. You sat on it for a couple of seconds, reeling at the sudden shift of conversation, until you finally let out a low puff of air and shrugged, “I don’t really know how I feel. Why? Should I be?”

“This camp, it’s —“ He huffed, “It helps you, sure. But it also forces you to…mould yourself into the perfect kid for — for a parent who doesn’t care enough to watch you grow up. Help you live, use their divine powers when a dragon is clawing your fucking face off!”

He’d stepped closer to you, unknowingly, that final shout making you wince a little at the volume. He stopped then, evening his breaths and stepping back with an apologetic expression. You brushed it off.

“A dragon clawed your face off?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled weakly, “Tell anyone and I’ll kill you.”

You smiled at him, shamefully admiring his face. Now that he wasn’t glaring in anger, and his face was more relaxed, you could see the whites of his eyes. His lashes, unreasonably long, and his lips that were so plush you were close to asking him if he took a trip to see Dr Miami while he was on his quest.

“Gods.” You murmured under your breath, “You’re so pretty it sorta pisses me off.”

Luke laughed then — a genuine chortle that shook his chest and made passers by glance in his direction. His grin was uncharacteristically wide and for a second, a brief moment, you saw it. Luke Castellan, the one everyone looks up to. The one they turn to in times of peril, the one they giggle and gossip about under the shade of the fir trees.

Then you knew your answer to Luke’s question. No — you weren’t angry that you hadn’t been claimed. In fact, you didn’t think you’d care even if you were so long as he was smiling at you like that.

He calmed down, catching his breath, his face relaxing back into that cool expression he’s always got on. Maybe your eyes were playing tricks on you, but you were sure he looked a little less tense than before. He nodded, waving a hand, “Alright, Sunny. Let’s go canoeing.”

“Sunny?” You asked, walking alongside him.

He clicked his tongue, glancing down at you, “If Apollo won’t claim you as a child of the sun, then I will.”

“Alright.” You smiled softly, looking forward so he wouldn’t see it and run off. You picked at your nails, “So long as I can call you JoJo.”

“Let’s watch that silly movie it’s from and I’ll decide if you can call me that.”

“Deal.”

🏷️ @katherines-imagines @lovingjasontoddmakemewanttocry @jennapancake @cobaltskiez @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @m00ng4z3r @mischiefmoons (comment to be added/removed!)

#sunny!verse #@lia’s works #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you

520 notes · View notes

scarletts-scribbles · 9 months

Note

Reader works for Lena that turns into working buddies with benefits, but reader starts catching feelings. Maybe angst but happy ending?

Highly Unprofessional

⁀➷ Pairing: Lena Luthor x Reader

⁀➷ Notes: Okay so I haven’t written smut properly before so hopefully this is a decent attempt :,) Let me know what you think! Sorry this took a while, its like 3k words long so editing was a bitch.

⁀➷ Summary: When a one-time hookup turns into a regular occurance, it sets off a chain of events which you're helpless to stop.

⁀➷ WARNINGS: 18+ Minors DNI, fingering, cunnilingus, semi-public (I mean its in her office but the door was open oopsie)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

In the bustling chaos of corporate life, where stress reigns supreme the last thing you want to do is mix business and your personal life. It only ever ended in disaster.

When you’d first moved to National City, you’d never imagined just a few short months later you’d be working directly under the city’s most prevenient businesswoman. Lena Luthor was a force to be reckoned with. It was a miracle you’d gotten the position of her assistant at all, your CV was sharp, but it wasn’t anything to be in awe of so when you’d got the call that you’d received the job it was safe to say she was over the moon.

It taken a little while to warm up to you. She’d been a rather cold at first. Not that you could blame her of course, given her family history. However slowly but surely you found her opening up more to you, building up her trust gradually. In the meantime, whilst she’d grown to depend on your assistance, you payed close attention and slowly learnt her tells. You knew when Lena was upset, she’d get that little crinkle in her brows or that when she was anxious, she’d gently bite the left corner of her lip. Infact you’d become so observant of her habits and body language that sometimes you knew how she was feeling before she’d register the emotions herself.

One particularly hectic day in the bustling office, the air thick with tension, you noticed Lena pacing nervously in her office. The telltale signs were there – the crinkle in her brows, the subtle lip-biting – Lena was clearly on edge about the upcoming meeting with a major client.

Truth to told, seeing her like this made you feel anxious as well. How could someone as powerful and accomplished as Lena get so nervous? You’dhad never seen her like this before, and it was almost like seeing a completely different person.

You had to help.

You knocked gentle on the door, clearing your throat quietly to announce your presence, “Miss Luthor?”

A wave of relief washed over Lena as she heard your voice calling through the door. This meeting had been weighing heavily on her mind, and she was desperate to find some way to relax before it started.

“You know you can call me Lena.” She smiled and nodded for you to enter.

You stepped into the room and approached Lena with the gentle warmth and confidence that always radiated from you. She found herself walking over to you, looking at you deeply before taking a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. You took her closeness as a chance to reach out to squeeze her shoulder and when she didn’t object, you softly applied pressure to her muscles.

“Fuck.” She let the curse split out involuntarily before trying to regain herself, “Do you need something from me?”

“You’re tense, let me help?” You mumbled softly to which she nodded. Your touch was like a balm for her. As you began subtly massaging Lena's shoulders, the tension began to subside, and her frown faded away, you let your hand slide down to her wrist, holding it gently as you pulled her over to the pristine sofa at the other side of her office, “Come, sit.”

"Thank you." Lena took a deep breath and sunk into the seat. She could feel the stress and anxiety that had been weighing heavily on her began to melt away. She turned her head toward you and smiled softly, letting out a sigh of relief. Lena gave in and allowed herself to sink deep into your warm embrace. With her worries temporarily relieved, she closed her eyes and began to enjoy the feeling of your hands working away at her tension.

Leaning in, you reached to place a comforting hand on her thigh, feeling the subtle tension in her muscles. You had no intention’s behind the action. Your touch was light, meant to reassure rather than intrude. But Lena’s eyes slowly opened and cast over to meet yours, her emerald green iris's seemingly sparkling with a new found feeling.

It was obvious she was a little surprised by the gesture, but there was a moment of pause. She tried to be professional, but her body was responding positively to the touch.

The feeling was both calming and exciting, sending a shiver of desire down her spine, the creeping onset on desire making her leg’s bounce nervously.

She looked into your eyes and saw the unmistakable spark of attraction between the pair of you. Of course she’d noticed your lokg glances before and she wasn’t ashamed to say she’d given you some the day you’d left her office when you’d interviewed for the position. Her previous tension was soon replaced with a subtle feeling of arousal, and she couldn't help but crave more.

"Could you...keep going?" she whispered, words shaking through her soft yet overwhelming sensual voice - filled with desire.

“You mean?” Your voice was quiet as you very slowly moved your hand up her thigh, waiting for to confirm her consent, “Is this okay? I need to hear you say it Lena.”

"Keep going," Lena whispered. Her voice was raspy from the tension, but there was no mistaking the excitement in her voice. She wanted you to keep touching her. She craved it. Soaked in the intimacy of your touch. "Please..."

The feeling of your hand gliding over her thighs was intoxicating, sending shivers of arousal through her body. You teased her lightly, fingers reaching her line of her panties. You could hardly fight back your own growing blush at the feeling of the wet fabric. Lena let out a soft moan as you softly ran your finger around her entrance – she was so sensitive. Her eyes closed once again as she leaned back into the couch, surrounding herself to your touch.

Your touch was intoxicating. You kept it light, but your slow strokes were sending her body into ecstasy. Lena's breaths grew shallow as she leaned toward you, her lips meeting yours in an intimate kiss.

"Don't stop," she whispered against your lips, her body urging you to keep going as you edged her sodden clit, rubbing circles as her back arched involuntarily.

“I wasn’t planning on it.” You whispered back with a husky tone as your fingers continued to work their magic on her. You could feel the heat radiating off her body, adding to the intoxicating atmosphere. Your touch became firmer, getting closer to her core, making sure every stroke and tease was intense. You were doing your job finely, the way she moaned into your mouth was driving you wild with validation, knowing you were making her feel good. Truely you were completely under her control, willing to do anything she desired - anything to please her.

With each passing moment, the lust between you both grew more intense, fuelling your passion. Both your excitement only grew with every teasing touch and feather-light kiss. You knew she enjoyed the buildup of anticipation just as much as you did. In the heat of the moment, time seemed to stand still as you lost yourself to the moment.

Your hand never stopped tracing along her sensitive folds as Lena’s moans grew louder, encouraging you to continue. She kissed you again and the kiss deepened as she pushed against you, urging you to take control. Her body ached for you as you pressed your fingers against her entrance, playing with her and teasing her. You held her deep in your embrace, feeling her shudder helplessly, her body giving into yours as you continued to stroke her. Finally, you gave into the inevitable and pushed inside, finally giving her the release, she craved.

Lena writhed beneath you, gasping for breath as you drove her toward climax. She muscles were tight against your fingers and you couldnt feel your hand going a little numb from how hard her thighs were squeezed together. She kept her hands clenched in your hair as you felt her body convulsing beneath yours. She moaned, high desperate sounds before finally, with a shudder of ecstasy, she peaked. Her back arching helplessly as she reached her climaxed under your guide.

Once she’d caught her breath, you carefully pulled out of her, making sure to be gentle against her sensitivities. You stroked her hair tenderly, feeling her body begin to relax against you as she came down down from her high.

"Do you feel better now?" you asked her, as she leaned back against you, still breathing heavily from the experience.

Lena sighed softly, a satisfied smile on her face, “So much better," she replied, her voice still light and breathless from the rush "Thank you for helping me relax.”

You brushed your fingers across her cheek, lingering for a beat. The intimacy of the moment was intoxicating, the shared look of pleasure and satisfaction. You couldn't help but wonder if there was more to it than just stress relief. As your head wandered the clouds, you didn’t notice Lena fixing her hair, tying it back in a tight ponytail.

She checked her watch, seemingly debating something for a moment before her voice pulled you back down to reality, “I think we’ve got just enough time.” She said, sitting back down against you, pulling on of your legs over hers, opening you up.

“Enough time for what?”

Lena smirked mischievously, tugging at the edge of your skirt. “For me to return the favour...”

･ﾟ: ･ﾟ: ﾟ･

That had been the first of many times you’d helped her relax. It had become a sort of ritual really. Whenever she’d have a big meeting or important event coming up, she’d come to you to help her unwind. Truthfully the first it’d happened; it had taken you a few days to really process it all. The experience had changed you. You couldn’t just see her as your boss anymore. She was more than that. Lena had always had a stunning body of course but now it was almost as if though you couldn’t keep her eyes off her.

The ways her hips curved had you weak in the knees, it wasn’t just her physical attributes though. It was everything, the weak she spoke, the way she held herself. It was intoxicating. Safe to say you were happy to lend a hand whenever needed. Maybe you could’ve kept this up forever, helping her out without a second thought – she was still your boss after all. But this latest time had changed something in you.

It had started off in its usual way, you’d seen the meeting scheduled on the calendar and let yourself into her office – the two of you were way past knocking now. Lena knew what was about to happen, she’d been waiting for it.

As you entered her office, Lena didn't waste any time before pulling you closer to her. You felt the heat and need radiating off of her as she kissed you passionately, her hands moving greedily over your body. You moaned as she pushed you up against the desk, her mouth hot against your neck.

Suddenly, she pulled back, looking at you with a predatory glint in her eyes. "Do you know what I want to do to you?" she whispered, her voice low with desire as her tender fingers danced down the front of your shirt - making a show out of unbuttoning them.

As she spoke, Lena left the kiss and moved down your body with purpose, her lips and tongue leaving a trail of heat and anticipation down your torso. Your hands found her hair, pulling it as if to guide her further where you wanted her. But the CEO had plans of her own. She knew what she wanted and she wanted it now, right this moment. So much so that she hadn’t even bothered closing her office door.

Without warning, she pushed your shoulders down, forcing you to sit on her desk. Lena smirked, moving in to kiss you deeply, so deep that it left you chasing her lips as she pulled away. Without a pause, she pushed your legs apart and planted herself between them, her eagerness so apparent it sent a shiver of desire right through you.

You could feel her looking up at you as she kissed through the fabric of your panties, her hands moving to stroke and soothe wherever they could reach.

You couldn't help but moan now, one hand coming to grip her hair and the other gripping the edge of the desk with such force that your knuckles turned white. You were helpless to resist as Lena worked her way deeper, your grip became more frenzied, less able to control yourself.

It hadn’t taken long before your panties had been pulled down and Lena was happily satisfying herself on your clit whilst you slowly grinded against her face, desire driving you wild.

Then something suddenly caught your attention. You heard someone in the hall…

You tried to voice this but through your whimpers, not much was articulated. Despite this, Lena didn't even flinch when she’d heard them, seemingly not bothered by the accompanying approaching footsteps.

Instead, she kept going, her tongue working magic on you as she held your hips steady with one hand. You could hear people talking just outside the open door, but Lena didn't seem to care. In fact, it seemed to turn her on even more - the thrill of getting caught.

You tried to stifle your moans, but it was impossible with Lena's skilled mouth on you. Your body was writhing on the edge of the desk, your toes curling as the pleasure built and built. And still, she didn't stop.

Lena never broke eye contact with you as she continued to work her tongue and lips over your pussy, sending you further and further into ecstasy. The sounds of voices in the hallway were drowned out by your moans, which the Luthor seemed to be enjoying immensely.

She added a couple of fingers inside you, curling them just right to hit your sweet spot, and you felt your body convulse in response. You couldn't hold back anymore, and you came hard, your body shaking with the force of it.

Lena didn't stop, though; she kept going, licking and sucking until you were overstimulated and sensitive. Finally, she stood up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she grinned down at you.

“You’re so fucking hot.” She laughed, the sound of her voice sending shivers down your spine again.

Your cheeks blushed crimson as you cleaned yourself up, “Do you want me-” You took a step forward but stopped when she held out her hand, shaking her head as she fixed her hair.

“I just wanted you darling, nothing more. Now if you’ll excuse me. I’ve got a meeting to attend too.”

With that Lena smoothed out the crease in her skirt before heading out the door, leaving you to catch your breath, still perched upon her table.

Darling?

The pet name replayed over and over in your head as the day passed by. You couldn’t stop thinking about her, about these sessions.

It wasn’t just about favours anymore. It felt like she had wanted you. You’d wanted her. God you’d been trying so hard to ignore the fact you’d crave her touch when you were alone. It had gotten to the point where you’d started to miss simply being around her. In fact you’d started coming in earlier and leaving later just to be near her. But you had tried to ignore it. Dammit! Why couldn’t you stop thinking about it!

The rational part of your brain was telling you to pull back, to remind yourself that her actions were just physical and didn't mean anything more. But the other part of you, the part that craved the closeness and heat of your body wanted her for more. You wanted to feel more than just the pleasure of their bodies. You wanted to build a connection, a partnership. You wanted more.

Oh shit... You wanted love.

The realisation had made you sick. What you wanted could never happen. You knew Lena’s life; it was busy and packed. She didn’t have time for something solid. It was why your little favours had worked so well. You’d kept each other going. You could hardly tell her that you wanted more.

Goddamn it!

ﾟ: ･ﾟ: ﾟ･

The ringing it your ears hadn’t really faded since you’d realised. You’d called out of work the past 2 days; you couldn’t bring yourself to look at her. Her eyes were a tease, a reminder of what you couldn’t have. Instead, you’d stayed home, trying to wrap your head around all the feelings swirling round in your head, your rapid thoughts never seemed to slow down long enough for you to process them.

You were in love with Lena Luthor.

You were in love with your boss…

Casual sex! That was all it was meant to be, no, no, no! How could you let yourself fall like this?

In all honesty, it felt like you were grieving. Grieving something you could never have. Something forbidden. It was awful.

You felt like shit. It had taken most of your energy to make the treacherous journey from your bed to the sofa - there was no point getting dressed. It wasn’t like you were going to work today anyway. You couldn’t bare the thought of facing her, the thought of it ate you up inside.

As you lay on your sofa, consumed by the weight of your emotions, a knock on the door suddenly startled you. You contemplated just ignoring it, hoping whoever it is will just get the hint, go away and leave you alone. However, the knocking persists, growing louder and more insistent with each rap.

With a heavy sigh, you dragged yourself off the sofa and reluctantly opened the door. To your surprise, it was Lena standing there. A concerned expression etched across her face. Her usual confident demeanor seemed softened by genuine worry.

"Lena?" you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper.

She stepped inside without waiting for an invitation, scanning the disarrayed room. "I've been trying to reach you for days. What's going on? Why haven't you been at work?”

Lena's concerned gaze met yours, and you could sense the weight of unspoken questions in her eyes. Your throat tightened, grappling with the words you hadn't dared to say.

"I... I just needed some time to think," you admitted, avoiding direct eye contact with her, staring hard at the floor, "Things have... changed.”

Her brow furrowed as she took in the gravity of your words. "Changed how?"

You hesitated, then let out a defeated sigh, "I can't keep doing this, Lena. Us. Secretly fucking each other at work just because we can. I don’t want to just be someone of the side anymore, I want to be more than that."

There was a moment of silence as Lena processed your words. Tension hung heavy over the room, a silence so thick you could’ve slice it with a knife, and you wondered if you had just ruined whatever fragile arrangement existed between you.

Finally, Lena spoke up, her soft voice wavering as she spoke, "More? What do you mean?"

"I mean..." You paused, gathering your courage. "I want a real relationship, Lena. Not just these secret little rendezvous we keep having. Lena, I want something genuine."

Her eyes searched yours, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of vulnerability. "I didn't think... I didn't know you wanted that," she admitted, her usual confidence waning.

"I do," You nodded slowly, affirming your words, "I can't keep pretending that this is enough for me. I want more than just physical connection; I want an emotional one too."

Lena took a hesitant step closer, the distance between you diminishing. "I thought we were both on the same page, I thought-.”

"No, Lena, I can't do this anymore," you repeated, the weight of your unspoken desires finally finding a voice, “I can’t keep pretending I’m fine with this anymore. I’m sorry but I just can’t.”

Lena's expression shifted, torn between conflicting emotions. The room hung in suspended silence, waiting for her response.

Lena’s eyes softened, and a vulnerable smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "I never realised how much you wanted this," she admitted, a hint of regret in her voice. "Maybe I've been too guarded, too afraid to admit it to myself…”

You felt a mix of relief and hope as Lena continued, “I'd think I’d like to try a real relationship too…”

There it was. The sentence that changed your life. You had a chance with Lena and you weren’t going to let it pass you by. Maybe this time, mixing your business and personal life wouldn’t end in disaster after all… even if it was horribly unprofessional.

✧･ﾟ: *

〚 Masterlist! 〛 ೃ༄ 〚Join My Taglist! 〛

#lena luthor x reader #lena luthor x you #lena luthor smut #lena luthor imagines #lena luthor #one shot #request #lena luthor imagine #lena x reader #fem reader #female reader #fem!reader #smut #supergirl #cw supergirl #lesbian #lena luthor x fem!reader

432 notes · View notes

finxwrites · 27 days

Note

strange & grimm, which btw sounds like an urban fantasy affectionately parodic hardboiled detective agency. probably queer.

It was a hot, muggy night in the Enchanted Forest. Everyone with a lick of sense was down in the fairy glens, hoping the Winter Court would put in an appearance and bring a breeze on with them. Lucky me, I’m the sucker who fingered the Snow Queen for the missing persons case last winter, so I’m persona non grata in the fairy glens these days.

Just as well. I couldn’t afford to leave the office, not when it’d been so long since my last case. Though on a night like this, I might as well not bother. It was too hot for crime. Even the leaves on the enchanted trees were drooping in the heat.

I was just about to call it a night when a dame walked in my door. Tall, blonde, legs for days, with an air of tragedy that could put an unloved stepchild to shame. I looked her over suspiciously for any cheery woodland creatures hidden in her golden ringlets. If she was a princess, I’d turf her right back out of the office, case unheard. Princesses paid well, but they were more trouble than they were worth.

No mice poked their adorable little noses out of her pockets as the dame sank into a chair and fixed me with a hard look. “I hear you’re the best in the business,” she said without preamble. “And I need the best.”

I leaned back in my seat. “Baby, I’m the only one in the business. It’s not a good genre for private dicks.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, yes, far too child-friendly for any sort of dicks.” Before I could recover from that little gem, she went on, “It’s a child I’m here about. My sister. She’s…she’s gone missing.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “Please, Detective, you’re my last hope. The royal courts won’t hear me out, they think she’s gone on the lam!”

I nodded grimly. “One of those Bo Peep situations, huh?” I get a depressing number of those. All it takes is one wolf in sheep’s clothing—you’d think the kids would learn.

The dame glared. There was enough cold iron in her gaze to put a fairy off her ambrosia. “On the lam, Detective. On the run. My sister has…something of a record.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Your sister the child? She some kind of crime prodigy?”

The dame fidgeted, looking away. “She’s…” She sighed explosively. “My sister is Goldilocks.”

I whistled, low and long. Crime prodigy indeed—Goldilocks was wanted in five kingdoms for the most impressive string of burglaries the Enchanted Forest had ever seen. No one could ever prove she’d done it, but the circumstantial evidence had piled up higher than mattresses on a pea. No wonder no royal court would take this case.

The dame’s shoulders hunched defensively, but she bulled on without trying to defend her wayward sister. “She’s gone missing, and I know it’s not another one of her sprees. Something is wrong this time.” She turned back to meet my eyes, her lovely features harsh with poorly-suppressed fear. “It’s her first crime come back to haunt her, I just know it is. They’ve always wanted revenge—especially the baby of the family, and he’s all grown up now. What they’d do if they got hold of her—“ She cut herself off with a watery gasp; her eyes were wet with tears. “Oh, it doesn’t bear thinking about!”

I handed her a handkerchief and gave her a minute to compose herself. It gave me a minute, too, to decide if I was really going to be this stupid. You don’t tangle with the big predators, not if you know what’s good for you, and especially not a whole family of them. Families are a dangerous thing in any genre.

But I was her last hope, and I’m a sucker for lost causes. And if I didn’t get paid soon, this business would become a lost cause itself. I said a silent farewell to my good sense as it packed its bags and left for kinder climes. “Alright,” I told the dame, “Give me the facts. We’ll see what kind of a story they tell.”

#finx has friends on the internet #fairy tales #delivered to you on the stroke of midnight!#or pretty close to it anyway #only missed it by a few minutes

156 notes · View notes

euno11a · 8 months

Text

Tattooed Hearts

Genre: No one to someone Tattoo artist! Jungkook X Reader

Summary: What happened to us? Why did we end up like this? It was only a one time thing. Now it’s ruined us both.

Warnings: fluff, angst, smut, mentions of hookups, insults, arguing, blood, mentions of period

Edit: Hey guys, I got this idea for some reason and was thinking of making it into a series, so let me know if you enjoy it and want a part two :)

Pt II • Pt III • Pt IV • Pt V • Pt VI • Pt VII • Pt VIII

*** You weren’t one to put out, always waiting for the one person who made you feel special. But you never seemed to feel that, except for when you were with Jungkook. He made you special, he made you happy, he made you feel loved. Maybe giving yourself to him was your mistake, but how could you not? He looked so handsome with his piercings and tattoos. That’s where you should’ve known what you did was a mistake. Sleeping with him was never on your bucket list, sure you’d thought about it before, but you never intended for anything to actually happen. It felt good, it always did, but the pain of being pushed out always pained you after. Mistakes get made, but this one hurt too much.

Sobbing on the bathroom floor was something you’d never wanted to do when it came to a guy. But seeing him with that girl hurt, way too much. Why weren’t you used to this yet? It’s happened before, get used to it. “He doesn’t deserve your tears, Y/N, please stop crying…” Lindsay, your friend, pleaded. She’d been here when it first happened, the other hundred times it had happened, and now. Maybe you were the stupid one for never taking her advice. Now, you hated calling anything stupid, nothing was stupid. There was always reason for something being one way and not the other, but you were just stupid for how many times you’d fallen for his tricks. Tattoos make a story when on your skin, most of the time. The story behind your tattoo was that you’d fallen for a handsome tattoo artist, letting him sweep you off your feet, wine and dine you and then fuck you. Big mistake. It’s almost funny how many mistakes you’ve made with him. Going the day after to get your tattoo finished was not the happy ending you were expecting, instead finding a woman walk out of his office looking drunk off of sex. Just like you did. He apologized, wine and dined you, then fucked you again. The same thing happened. Something wasn’t clicking, stay away from him; he’s bad for you; he’s using you; all things you should’ve listened to, but didn’t. That was on you, you decided to keep going back and keep getting your heart broken. That was until now, countless nights of crying about him, going back to him, waiting for him to call and use you again, you were done.

Wiping your tears for the last time, you wouldn’t let this man or any man make you cry like that ever again. That was a promise. ***

“Are you ever gonna get that tattoo finished?” Lindsay asked as she placed the bowl of popcorn between you two. It was Wednesday night, your scheduled movie night. “I think it would look really cool actually completed.”

You placed some popcorn in your mouth, thinking for a moment, “I don’t know…I think it looks kinda cool now!” Placing the blanket over your legs, you looked at your shoulder, a half finished tattoo of a skeleton hand holding a rose.

“Girl, don’t lie, you need to get it finished. Please? I’ve been looking at it for so long, I can’t stand it anymore! How are you not annoyed it’s only half done?!” She was adamant about making you get it finished, partially because she wanted you to go back to rub it in Jungkook’s face how amazing you were and what he lost when he slummed it with those other women.

“Fine! Fine! I’ll get it finished, but you need to get me tteokbokki after, got it?” It was something you’d dreaded, but having the feeling inside that you’d let him win by not seeing him again was eating at you from the inside.

Lindsay squealed in joy, clapping her hands, “ I’m gonna make you so hot! He’s gonna regret sleeping with those other bitches!”

“Whoa, whoa, I’m going to get my tattoo finished, not see him. And don’t call them bitches! Women stick up for women, no matter how fucked up some might be.” Secretly, you were hoping to make him jealous or upset with how he left you. He deserved to feel like shit.

“Okay, okay, sorry…I’M GONNA GET MY HEELS!!” Lindsay yelled as she ran out of the living room to grab her heels from her room. I sighed, knowing that I couldn’t stop her.

***

A week later, you walked into the shop, seeing the familiar face of RM. He was one of the piercers that worked in the parlour, “Y/N, hey, it’s been a while!” He spoke with a big smile, happy to see you again. With the time you’d spent there before everything, you’d befriended his friends. It felt unfair leaving them behind after it all.

“Yeah, hi, how’ve you been?” Even though Jungkook was nowhere to be seen, you couldn’t help but feel a lump growing in your throat.

RM had a bright smile on his face, one that he’d always had that always managed to make your day better. “Good! I’ve been good, uh, how can I help you today?” He asked, standing up from behind the front desk.

“I want to get my tattoo finished. I think it’s finally time.” You gave him a small smile, he’d known about what happened between you and Jungkook. It was hard not to know, he was friends with him after all.

“Alright, we can do that! Let me see…V could take you.” He looked up from the computer, seeing what was open now. You nodded your head, willing to take anyone who wasn’t Jungkook.

They’d gotten you situated at a station, instructing you to take off your sweater. Your half finished tattoo was now on display, waiting to be finished. V was nice, making small talk here and there, making sure you were comfortable with everything and that nothing was too painful. Pain wasn’t your thing, yes, you had to go through a period every month and maybe one day give birth, but you had a low pain tolerance. He used to squeeze your thigh, kiss your neck, finger you to keep you calm…stop it! Don’t think about him! He’s not in your life anymore, don’t waste precious thinking space on him! Not thinking about the needle piercing your skin was abruptly stopped when you felt a prick, yelping, you moved your shoulder away. V looked at you with wide eyes, “ I’m sorry! Was that painful? Oh god, are you okay? I didn’t mean to hurt you!”

“No, no! It’s okay! I’m fine, just startled! Sorry, I zoned out for a moment…” You gave him a sheepish smile, relaxing in the chair again.

“That’s fine, just let me know if you need a break or anything, okay? Maybe I can sneak you a juice if you really want, too.” He gave you his signature boxy smile, instantly warming your heart.

You giggled, nodding your head, “That would be nice…” Smiling up at him, it felt nice to still be friendly with them even though you were nowhere close to being friendly with Jungkook.

V stood up, walking away to get you a juice from the break room. He left you in the chair, leaving you alone to listen to the music playing softly through the speakers. Quietly humming along, your thoughts were halted by hearing two voices. “Hey, RM, when’s my next client?”

“She should be here soon, it’s a touch up.” I could hear RM talk to the person. The other guy hummed, shuffling around a little.

You sat up, being faced with Jungkook. Everything seemed to go fuzzy, your thoughts, the sounds around you, even your eyesight. The lump in your throat returned, making it hard for you to breathe, V returned with your juice, “ I got you watermelon! You know? Since it’s your favourite!”

You were startled out of your trance, looking up at V who was holding your favourite juice. They still had it…? “Thanks…how do you-?”

You were cut off by V smiling sheepishly and rubbing the back of his neck. “We all thought you’d show up again…but when you didn’t, we kept the fridge stocked for whenever you decided to show up again.”

Heat rushed up to your cheeks, they’d waited for you? Why? His boxy smile came back again, looking over to Jungkook, waving “Hey, JK, lunch was good?”

“Yeah, it was fine. Pussy would’ve been better though.” Jungkook replied as if it were nothing, finally looking over to you. He faltered a little bit, quickly recovering by giving you a cocky smirk, “Glad to see you back, Y/N.”

Without another word, he walked away, back into his office. Biting the inside of your cheek, you knew this wasn’t the last time you’d see him. He was like a parasite, once you had it, it would never go away.

#bts #bts army #bangtan #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts jungkook #jungkook #bts smut #jeon jungkook #jungkookie #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader

397 notes · View notes

miniwheat77 · 7 months

Text

Blood. (141 x Reader.)

!sexual assault, groping, violence, blood, THIS IS SENSITIVE MATERIAL YOU’VE BEEN WARNED!

The first time it happened, you brushed it off like it was an accident.

He’d finished talking to you, sent you on your way and where he was standing. His hand brushing over your backside.

In your gut it felt wrong, but you brushed it off.

The second time. It was much different.

He was scolding you for something stupid, a new recruit had messed something up under your watch and he’d reached out, groping you through your shirt. You shoved his hand away, mortified. But he only moved closer. “It’s okay. You’ll learn to be good.”

Just as you were getting ready to bolt away, he gripped your wrist and forced you closer. His lips right near your ear. “If you tell anyone about this, I’ll have your job. And you don’t want that right? Be a good girl.” He breathes. Breathing in the scent of your hair. You trembled as you left his office that day.

The commander was hungry to be higher than everyone else, and why it was you he chose to harass you’d never understand.

You were making your way out of his office. Trembling. Tears pooling at your waterline. You made your way to your friends car. She told you she’d take you off base for the day. When you asked for the day off, you payed the price. Just as you reached her car, your phone rang. You lifted it up, seeing his name flash across the screen. You took a deep breath, answering it. “I’ve got a gift for you when you come back tonight darling. Don’t be afraid when you come into your room.”

You hang up the phone. Resting your arm on the top of the car. Burying your face into your elbow and letting out a sob. Your friend looks at you sympathetically. “Y/N..” she breathes. She’s the only other person who knows. She’s tried to convince you to tell others plenty of times, but you won’t budge. Scared of what he could do. Knowing what he’s capable of. “Hey, everything alright?” You hear Gaz’s voice. But keep your face buried in your arm. You hear her sigh. “No. No nothing is alright.” She answers for you. “What’s going on?”

Gaz and Soap had just gotten off of watch. “It’s the commander.” She crosses her arms. You wipe your eyes, looking up at her. “Just.. don’t. It doesn’t matter.”

Soap moves closer. Seeing just how distraught you are. “He.. he’s been…” she freezes.

Gaz looks up. “Is he touching you?” He looks at you.

You drop your head again. Gaz and Soap exchange glances. Soaps jawline hardens as he grits his teeth. “For a couple months now.” She answers for you. “Take her off base. We’ve got it.” Soap pats the top of the car. “Wait- what are you going to do?” She asks. “Don’t worry, he won’t do anything anymore.” He’s answers. “Just.. take her out.” He nods.

The both of you get into the car.

“What do you think they’re going to do?” She looks at you. You turn your head to the window.

“Don’t know. Hopefully kill him.”

“What are we going to do?” Gaz asks Soap. “We’re going to get Ghost and Price first.” He opens up the door to Captain Price’s office, thankful when Ghost is sitting there. “Boys?” Captain Price raises an eyebrow. “Commander Mason has been assaulting Y/N.”

Soap crosses his arms. Price’s face hardens immediately. “What?”

“We seen her out in the parking lot. Fucking distraught.” Gaz answers. “Are you sure?”

“About positive sir. Said it’s been going on a couple months now. Assuming he’s been threatening her rank.” Price nods his head. “Alright. Come on.” He stands up from his chair, and the four of them walk down the hallway together. Price goes in first and the others wait outside.

He knocks at the door. “Come in!” He calls. Price steps inside, being sure to leave the door open. “Ah, Captain. What brings you in here?”

“I’ve just been informed that you’ve been inappropriately touching people on my base.”

Price can see him stiffen up immediately. “What?”

“Y/N is lying.” The words leave his lips before John can answer. “Weird… I didn’t say who told me, did I?”

His eyes are wide. He’s just sold himself out and he knows it. “This has nothing to do with you, Price. I suggest you stay out of this. This discussion is over.” He goes to walk out the door, but Soap steps into the doorway, leaning up against the frame.

He’s got a knife in his hand and he’s moving it back and fourth. “Don’t think you’re going anywhere, buddy.” Soap smiles. “Tell the truth.” John crosses his arms, leaning up against the desk. “I.. I don’t know what she told you but it’s not true.” He backs up into the wall behind him. “See… that’s where you’ve got it wrong. Because she didn’t tell us anything. Someone else did. But since you jumped to conclusions, you’ve just incriminated yourself so much more.” Gaz shakes his head. “You’re supposed to be someone girls can trust. How many women have you done this to hm?” Soap has moved and the other two men have walked in, Ghost still blocking the door. “You’ve got it all wrong. Look.. we can call Y/N in and she’ll clear this whole thing up.”

John shakes his head. “No. She’s… out. And.. you’re never gonna see her again. Not ever.”

“Yes I will.”

“No. You won’t.” John draws his gun. Seeing the panic flare in his eyes. “Let’s take a walk.”

———

When you got back to base, you got out of her car and made your way back inside, dread in your chest. He probably talked them down. Probably told them you were lying and they believed him. So he’ll be waiting for you in your room, like usual. He’s probably going to hurt you this time.

You open up your door, but it’s quiet. You take a deep breath.

“Y/N.”

You spin around, seeing Captain Price standing there. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. Come with me?” He asks. You nod your head. Following him. You follow right along side him. “Why didn’t you come to me sooner, darling?”

You look at your feet as you walk. “I was scared.”

He nods his head. “I’ll always believe you, you know that?” He sighs. “I want you to know that I’ve got your back and I’d NEVER let anyone do that to you. None of us would.” You follow him outside, it’s starting to get dark. The sun has disappeared behind the mountains around you. He leads you out to the garage, where he opens the door of the Humvee for you.

“Where are we going?”

“I’m going to show you something.”

He reaches across the center of the Humvee, slowly resting his hand on your thigh. He’s trying to soothe you. “I’m sorry about what he’s done to you. And I want you to know it’s not going to happen anymore.” You rest your hand on top of his. Squeezing it slightly. You’re not scared of him. He never scared you. He’d never do anything to hurt you. Nobody in this task force would.

He pulls up to pretty much the middle of nowhere. Getting out and moving around the other side to open your door for you. You follow him up to what looks like disturbed ground.

“What is this?”

“It’s a promise I’m making you.” He turns to look at you. “What?”

“Nobody is going to hurt you ever again, not as long I’m around. No matter what they say to you, they can’t hurt you. They can’t fire you. Can’t get you into trouble, if something happens, you come straight to me.” He looks at you. You nod your head. “Do you understand me?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good. Because if they do.” He turns to look at the ground.

“They’ll end up here.”

Your eyes widen when you realize what he means.

“Thank you Captain Price.” You breathe. “I’m just.. so glad that it’s over.” You sigh.

“Us too. Now let’s get back. I’m going to help you move your room. I know you’ve got some bad memories in the last.”

“How do you know that?”

“He told us everything.” He turns away from you. Bile growing at the back of his throat.

“You’re safe now, and that’s what matters.”

#call of duty mw2 #cod mw2 #soap mw2 #captain john price #ghost mw2 #price mw2 #captain price #johnny soap mactavish

315 notes · View notes

veeluvss · 2 months

Note

could you write something about JJ and her kid getting into an argument about them getting into a fight at school context isn't important just something like that

I loved this ask! Thank you. Here's about 2k words :) Non-binary reader (they/them pronouns)

You're not listening.

JJ pulled up outside your school in an angry fit. This was her third time being called in this month for your fighting and she was sick of it. Sick of your behaviour. They’d already suspended you for a few days after your first fight. Since you didn’t start the second one there was no disciplinary but your mum was made aware but now with the third one this month which had called her out of work - she was not happy.

She marched through the glass doors, her blonde hair bounced behind her and she looked powerful in her suit. However, you didn’t see her as that. Sitting in the principal's waiting, your fear grew thicker. She was angry. Really angry.

You watched the way she held herself, so assertive. You held the bloody gauze against your nose more and sniffed. The blood still hadn’t stopped but you didn’t even think she’d noticed.

She took a deep breath, not looking in your direction, before addressing the receptionist. “I’m here for Y/N - to see Principal Alex,” she said. Her voice was thin and sharp. “Of course, I’ll let him know you’re here. Thank you for coming so quickly,” the receptionist replied. “Just take a seat and he’ll call you in.” JJ nodded and turned to you. She looked you up and down. Your shirt was stained with crimson blood. Your hands were covered in blood too as no one had cleaned you up - you’d been sent straight to the principal. “Excuse me, can we have some wipes for their hands?” JJ asked the receptionist. The woman behind the desk quickly grabbed some wipes from her desk drawer and handed them over.

In a huff, JJ came over and sat beside you. “Hand,” she ordered and held out her hand for yours. You swapped your hand holding the gauze against your nose and put the bloody one in hers. She quickly began wiping you down, making sure to get around your fingernails and in your knuckles. “Mum-” You tried to speak but she raised a finger. That meant it was not your turn to speak. “Save it,” she said, clearly upset with you. Once your hands were clean, she looked up at your face. “Let me see,” she said. Her voice was softer but still strict. You pulled the gauze away from your nose. It was bruised and very sore but you didn’t think it was broken. “They didn’t even give you ice? Goddamnit,” she whispered and stood back up to talk to the receptionist. You sat there, sullen. You hated that you’d made your mum this angry and that she wouldn’t listen to your side first. When your mum got angry, she went silent and that frustrated you. It was the easy JJ had always coped but you hated it.

“I’m sorry but only the school nurse can administer that sort of medical care,” the receptionist said. “Well get the school nurse down here then. They need ice on their nose before it gets anymore swollen,” JJ replied, her anger rising. “I’m afraid we have to wait until after Principal Alex has spoken to them.” “No. Just because they broke a few school rules, doesn’t mean their needs are pushed aside. I want the nurse down here with a bag of ice for them before I even think about stepping into that office.” JJ’s tone was assertive and dominant. The receptionist didn’t hesitate to pick up the phone and call the nurse.

After you had been given the ice for your nose, you and JJ were called into the principal's office. The person you fought walked out sheepishly with their father and took a seat. You hobbled behind your mum into the office and sat down in the large leather chair. Your mum shook the principal’s hand and sat in the chair adjacent to yours.

“Now, Miss Jareau,” Principal Alex began, addressing your mum. “It’s unfortunate I have to see you here again but by my reports, Y/N started the fight this time and as we discussed previously, that means expulsion.” Shit. You gulped and looked at your mum. Her expression was serious and upset. Expulsion? This was never, ever discussed with you. “I understand however, I’d like to know what happened before we get to such extreme circumstances,” JJ said. “Y/N? I’ve heard the story from the other person's account - I’d like to hear yours.” The principal said, turning to you. You shuffled in your seat and removed the ice from your nose so you could be heard better. “I was sticking up for myself,” You began. Your mum had turned to you too and you felt sweat form on your brow. Her gaze was scary. “They were making fun of me again, Sir. Calling me a girl and throwing tampons at me,” you whispered. Your gender had always been something you struggled with and while a lot of people accepted you were non-binary – there were people at school who didn’t. “And why didn’t you walk away and report it like I told you to if it happens again?” Principal Alex asked. “Because they were surrounding me, just coming at me. All three of them. It was scary!” You said, growing angry again. No one understood the struggles you faced internally and externally. However, the principal shot you a stern look and you turned away. “Did you have to punch them?” your mum asked, breaking up the silence. You looked at her. Her blue eyes held a different kind of emotion you couldn’t quite figure out. “They were just coming closer to me, Mum. Calling me a freak and asking what was between my legs,” You explained. “But violence is never the answer,” The principal said. “Neither is targeting me for something I can’t control!” You spat. “Watch your tone, Y/N,” JJ said and you scoffed, turning away. “No one understands or listens or even thinks of me in these situations. I get expelled for retaliation - what do they get?” You addressed the question Alex and he sighed and shuffled the papers on his desk. “What do they get?” You asked again, raising your voice and standing up. “Suspension.” “Y/N sit down,” JJ said and grabbed your hand. You pushed her off but sat down in a huff. “Why do they get suspended for repeated bullying and I get expelled? How is that fair?” You asked, turning to your mum in hope she’d stick up for you. “This is the third fight you’ve been involved in this month and we’re only three weeks in, Y/N,” Principal Alex said. “Their alleged bullying hasn’t been reported and there’s no evidence of it.” “Oh so my broken nose isn’t evidence enough?” You retorted, throwing up your arms. JJ shot you a ‘please calm down’ look but you ignored her. “You threw the first punch.” “They cornered me, it was my only way out!” You shouted, losing your patience. “Y/N, calm down, now.” JJ said.

“No. No. No mum, I won't calm down because you’re sitting there, peaceful as anything whilst I’m trying to fight for my place in this school even though it’s a literal hell hole and I get bullied constantly. Although apparently none of my reports have been filed. I’m sick of all of this stupid bullshit!” You said and crossed your arms in a huff and kicked out your foot. “Curve your language right now. This behaviour is not acceptable, angry or not,” JJ said. “And you won’t even address the fact I’m being bullied. All you care about is your stupid FBI job and all those other hurt kids you save. You can’t even see that I’m struggling.”

“That’s not true whatsoever, of course I care about you. I’m here - aren’t I?” “Because you have to be. You didn’t even ask if I was okay when you came in. You didn’t give me a chance to explain myself. When was the last time you checked in with me?” You shouted. JJ sighed and looked around the room, embarrassed. You scoffed. She knew you were right. “Can we save this conversation for some place else?” She asked. You felt a punch in your stomach from her words and turned away before the tears could form in your eyes. “Whatever, mum.”

Silence fell upon the office and Principal Alex shuffled his papers again. “Y/N, Miss Jareau,” he sighed and addressed the two of you. “I’m going to cut the expulsion to a month’s suspension. In the meantime, I expect you to start therapy, Y/N - anger management or anything you seem fit. I think it will help you massively. The other girls involved in the incident are being dealt with accordingly as I understand their behaviour today was also unacceptable. How does that sound?” “I can come back in a month?” You asked, through gritted teeth, still overwhelmed and angry at your mum. “If you can prove you’ve started regular therapy appointments and keep up with your school work whilst you’re away, yes.” “Okay, that’s a good deal. Y/N?” Your mum said and turned to you. You only nodded and shrugged. “Okay, thank you, Sir,” JJ said and stood up to shake his hand. “Come on, you.” You followed her out the room with the ice back against your nose and out to the car. You climbed into the passenger seat and she made sure both belts were on before setting off home. No one spoke for the twenty minute drive.

You pulled up on the driveway and noticed your dad’s car. You wanted your dad. He cared. But your mum's voice stopped you. “Wait,” She said. You stopped, with your back turned to her. “I’m sorry I made you feel like I didn’t care. I do care, Y/N. More than anyone or anything. I worry about you.” You didn’t know what to say so you let her continue. “I lie awake at night thinking about what goes on at school, about how you cope. You’re so strong and I just - I’m proud of you. I feel like I don’t need to check in when you’re always so smiley and happy and always on your best behaviour. When you act out, like you have been, I get worried I’m doing something wrong and it scares me.” “But you never tell me this,” You whispered. You sat back in your seat and turned to face her. She had tears in her eyes and you felt yours fill with tears too. “You’re growing up, it’s natural for a parent to be scared. You’re different from other kids at school, it worries me more. But you have your bubble. You don’t need your mum checking up on you everyday and making sure everything is okay - I thought it was. I didn’t see past the facade, I guess because it scared me.” “You’re an FBI agent who faces danger everyday but asking if I’m okay scares you?” You asked. She chuckled and sniffed, nodding. “It does. Because believe it or not, I care about you and Henry and Michael so much. You’re my babies and I’m sorry I failed you.” She looked up at you and quickly wiped a tear away. You felt your heart burst and leaned over, you wrapped your arms around her and she held you tight. “I’m sorry I shouted at you,” You whispered. “It’s okay, I deserved it. I wasn’t listening to you.” “I love you, no matter what,” You told her. “Oh you're too grown up,” she blubbered. “I love you so much my baby,” she replied.

#criminal minds #criminal minds evolution #jennifer jareau #jennifer jareau head canons #jennifer jareau x reader #jennifer jareau imagine #jennifer jareau x daughter!reader #jennifer jj jareau #jj jareau #jj #jennifer jareau x you #reader insert #criminal minds x reader #gender neutral reader #they/them #nonbinary

103 notes · View notes

etherealising · 7 months

Text

chapter twelve | a slow burn for me

masterlist | ↢ previous chapter | next chapter ↣ |

pairing(s): carmen berzatto x fem!reader

summary: a peek into the beginning of an awkwardly domestic night between you and carmy.

warning(s): honestly none for this chapter, what a surprise.

wc: 6.4k (of filler someone get this girl an editor)

It was late. If the lack of light streaming through your office windows wasn’t enough of an indicator of the hour, the time on the small analog clock gifted to you by Nat and Pete was enough to force you to call it quits for the night. You did a quick check of the document staring back at you on your computer to make sure not only was it saved to the software you’d chosen to use, but also to the backup hard drive you’d learned to use over time.

The building was quiet as you tidied up your desk and powered down your appliances, your coworkers having cleared out hours ago. You could feel the exhaustion seeping into your bones, working overtime wasn’t on your agenda this morning but considering the two personal days you took after your emotionally demanding conversation with Carmy, it was no surprise the extra time was needed to catch up on all the work you missed out on. The hour wasn’t horrendous per se but watching the clock on your desk tick past 9:30 was all the excuse you needed to begin your journey home.

Your decision to return to the Tribune wasn’t as hard as you expected it to be. You were finally getting your life back on track, you were in a city you loved surrounded by the people you loved and cared about. If you needed to spend the next year avoiding and appearing indifferent to your boss, so be it you would figure things out as the days passed by. And maybe it wasn’t your most logical decision but you were sure within a year or two you might find another position, for now, though you just wanted to go home.

An exhausted sigh escaped into the dimly lit office as you began to gather your belongings of the day, eyes catching onto the pristine manila envelope that you remembered plucking out of your mailbox before driving to work. Ignoring the envelope you shrugged on your jacket before bending to grab your bag from one of your desk drawers quickly slipping your laptop and the unassuming envelope inside before double checking everything was exactly how you always left it.

The elevator ride to the ground floor was surprisingly relaxing considering how annoying the music playing through the speakers was. Exiting the metal box as it stopped you gave a cordial goodbye to the night guard on duty before exiting the building and speed walking to your car before the cool air could assault you any longer.

You were quick to start the car, allowing it to warm up as you turned on the heater and placed your hand in front of the air vents. The artificial warmth wafted through your car as you carefully plucked your phone out of your bag casually eyeing the envelope that you’d rather deliver sooner than later. A few minutes ticked by as you thought about the best course of action, scrolling through your contacts you quickly found Nat’s and pressed the call button hoping she’d be able to help you.

The phone didn’t ring for long before you heard Nat’s voice ring through. Your hopes that she wouldn’t answer didn’t have a foot to stand on knowing she always made time to answer your calls whether she was busy or not.

“Nat, hey I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” You could hear Pete’s voice in the background as Natalie sounded like she was maneuvering around.

“Baby, no you’re fine. Is everything okay? It's pretty late.” A small smile graced your lips at the slightly worrying tone in Nat’s voice.

“Yeah I’m fine, I uh...I was just hoping I could stop by real quick. I got the revised trademark paperwork in the mail today and was hoping to drop it off.”

The line was quiet for a moment as you awaited the woman’s response, part of you was sure the call had dropped but you could still hear her little noises through the phone.

“Nat? You still there?”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to drop it off with Carmen? He doesn’t live too far from where you are now.” You frowned knowing you hadn’t mentioned where you were during the conversation.

“I never said where I was Nat.”

“Oh, I know my love Pete checked your location.” Of course, you were on speaker, not that it annoyed you, whatever you divulged in this conversation with Natalie she’d be sure to gossip about it with Pete regardless if he could hear the conversation or not.

“Isn��t that like an abuse of trust? I shared my location for emergencies Nat.”

“Isn’t this an emergency? You’ve been avoiding Carmy since the night of my baby shower and as much as I love my brother Baby, I am sick of his moping.” You bit your lip suddenly realizing the truth behind Nat’s words, it hadn’t been your intention to avoid him but then you remembered the unanswered texts and the missed calls you had plenty of time to return but for some reason chose not to.

“Is he even home, feels a bit early doesn't it?”

“I’m sending you his address Baby. And I love you, but I am tired of this cycle between the two of you and trust me I know Carmy has his faults, I know the part he’s played in this relationship between you two. But aren’t you now doing exactly what you’ve been crucifying him for?” You could feel the indignation rising in your chest, the need to defend yourself coming in hot.

“I’m not excusing his actions Baby, but the two of you are adults and the fact that Carmy’s pulled his head out of his ass and is finally trying is a big step in whatever the hell is going on between you two.”

The sting of tears behind your eyes was the last thing you wanted to deal with right now. You hated when Natalie was right but you appreciated her perspective and the way she appeared unbiased. You took a deep breath trying to keep the tears at bay not wanting to cry once you began driving.

“I’m scared Nat.” It was quiet as she let you gather your thoughts. “Things have just been fucked up between us for so long that I’m not sure how to navigate a healthy relationship with him. And I…god I kind of hoped him finding out about everything would make him hate me and want nothing to do with me. But then he just accepted it and forgave me and now he’s checking in on me daily and sending me little anecdotes about his day and I’ve just been ignoring him hoping he’d finally just give up because Nat I just…I don’t know everything just feels too good to be true you know?”

You took a minute to even your breathing surprised by what you just admitted to Natalie, unaware that what you’d been feeling over the past few days could be put into words. You reached over to turn off your car, sure you wouldn’t be leaving this spot anytime soon, before laying your head against the headrest and allowing your eyes to flutter closed.

“Baby, you’re never going to be healthy if you continue self-sabotaging.” Nat gave you a minute before continuing. “I appreciate your candor but I don’t think I’m the person who needs to hear these things. Given Carm a chance, I know he’s a bit inexperienced in the relationship department but you both deserve a shot at whatever this dumpster fire of a relationship is.”

You let out a quiet laugh thanking Nat for her oh so kind words of wisdom. You checked the time on your phone as Natalie hung up, time wouldn’t stop just because you wanted it to. Your eyes were drawn to the incoming message from Natalie, a pin with Carmy’s address followed by a quick good luck text. You gave a tired smile at the combination of emojis before clicking on the pin and watching it load in the maps app, an easy 15-minute drive to his apartment complex.

Throwing the phone into the seat next to you, you quickly started the car forcing yourself to begin the journey before you had any more time to talk yourself out of showing up on Carmen’s doorstep unannounced.

This whole situation felt like deja vu. Here you were at Carmy’s doorstep uninvited once again, trying to work up the courage to just even knock on his door. A part of you hoped he wasn’t home to spare yourself from the apology you knew he deserved, but you also just wanted to clear things up between the two of you, finally get things out in the open, and hope the two of you could move forward in whatever way you both agreed upon.

You took one last deep breath before raising your hand to finally knock, cringing a bit at how hard the knocks must have come across. You waited a few seconds with no answer deciding to knock again, you were already here so all you could do was try.

Another series of knocks went unanswered, you couldn’t help the huff of laughter that escaped out of you at the parallels between this moment and your visit to Carmy’s New York apartment a year ago. You checked the time on your watch, deciding to call it a night and send Carmy a text when you returned home, hoping the two of you would be able to connect at a more decent time. Spinning around to return to your car you jumped on the spot, your hand moving to clutch the spot over your heart as it raced.

“Fuck Carmen! Why are you sneaking around?” You did your best to calm your breathing, surprised to find Carmy’s figure in front of you along with the fact that you hadn’t even heard his approach in the first place.

“I uh…I wasn’t.” He looked surprised to see you outside his door, slight confusion drifting through him as he tried to recall ever giving you his address.

The tension in the hallway leading to Carmy’s apartment was palpable, neither of you saying a word in hopes that the other would begin the conversation. An awkward smile curled your lips as Carmy’s eyes darted everywhere but your eyes. If anyone walked in on this scene of the two of you they’d be confused if you told them you’d known the man in front of you your whole life.

“I have-,”

“Would yo-,”

Awkward laughs left the both of you, your hand gesturing for Carmy to go first. He cleared his throat adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder, one hand digging into his pocket as he pulled out what could only be his keys.

“Would you uh, like to come in?” Carmy jingled the keys slightly to clarify as if his question wasn’t obvious enough.

You nodded, sending him a genuine smile, “Yes please if that’s okay with you.”

Carmy nodded clearing his throat as he shuffled past you, fingertips slightly grazing your waist in a move you both knew to be unnecessary but neither of you cared to comment on. You waited as he unlocked the door cautiously following behind him as he held the door open for you. A small nod of thanks was sent his way as you walked past eyes surveying what you could see of his apartment thus far.

Although the layout was different from his lodgings in New York, you got the same feeling you had when you entered that apartment a year ago. There was minuscule decoration hardly any to be exact but his presence could be felt as soon as you walked through the door a warmth that was incandescently Carmy radiated around you.

You felt heat at the small of your back as Carmy rounded on you walking past the board in the middle of his living room as he made his way towards the kitchen.

“Are you hungry? Have you eaten yet?” You watched as he rummaged through his fridge in search of something as you continued to look around his abode.

“Actually I-,” Carmy cut you off with a quiet curse under his breath, his figure quickly moving towards you before stopping in front of you. Confusion washed over your features as he carefully removed your purse out of your hands gently setting it on his coffee table and returning to you. You watched as he reached for your arm, hands tugging the sleeve of your jacket off before walking around you and removing it fully, the domesticity of the moment sent a shiver up your spine.

“I uh..I’m out of groceries but I’ll run and go get us some take out yeah?” He still wasn’t looking at you as he spoke whatever was going on in his mind keeping him occupied.

“Carmen I-,” You stopped upon seeing his sporadic unfocused gaze.

“Stay please?” Carmy’s eyes finally met yours after the constant minutes without doing so. The soft glint of hope you found there went straight to your chest as you gave a forced smile nodding your head in acquiesce.

The corner of Carmy’s lips ticked up, eyes quickly darting across your face before moving towards the door removing his wallet from his bag and stopping by the door, you slowly followed behind so you could lock up for him.

“Anything in particular?” He asked, shoving his hands into his pocket as he turned to look at you.

You shook your head, nothing coming to your mind as you stared at him, “Surprise me?”

He stood there for a moment before rapidly nodding his head, turning to leave, stopping in the now open doorway, “Call me if you want anything specific, yeah?”

A genuine smile was sent his way at just how considerate he was, you moved to close the door, immediately stopping as his hands reached out surprising you as they found purchase on your waist. There was no time for you to question his motives as he quickly leaned in, chapped lips softly ghosting across your cheek before he quickly pulled away.

“I’ll be home soon, lock up okay?”

You stood there dumbfounded unsure of what to say or do or if you should say anything for that matter. The further Carmy got from the door the longer you stood there trying to wrap your head around how that man's mind worked. And even after he’d been gone awhile you tried to rationalize that the feel of his lips caressing your cheek meant nothing.

Carmy sat at the small table waiting for the order as he stared down at his phone. On the outside, he appeared calm like someone just stopping for a late-night bite to eat, and while the latter part was true the idea that he was anywhere near calm couldn’t be further from the truth.

At every stop he made he was itching to pick up the phone and call you, to apologize for the random kiss, unsure himself what even drove him to do it. When he stopped off to buy you more comfortable clothes so you could change if you wanted to, he almost called you. And then as he drove across town to pick up the order he placed at your favorite restaurant from your younger years all he could think about was the impromptu kiss he’d left you with.

His hand reached up for the nth time, his thumb unconsciously grazed his lips. The longer he sat there waiting the stronger the urge to call you and apologize became. He didn’t know what the fuck was going on with him when it came to you he was double and triple texting you throughout the week, basically having a conversation with himself with all the messages you’d left unanswered. Checking his phone for what felt like every second of the day, hoping that at some point your contact would be there waiting for him.

Carmen was sure he was going overboard but he couldn’t help the incessant need he felt to surround himself in you. He couldn’t be 100% sure but he felt like the time you spent together after the baby shower, basking in and understanding each other's hurt helped the two of you to come to some new point in your relationship. And then you continued to let him in, you allowed yourself to be the most vulnerable he’d seen you since before your fallout. You allowed him into your life, allowed him to see the hardened parts of you.

Something changed that day…well almost everything changed that day for Carmy. But the morning after as the two of you sat in your backyard and then you asked him to help you tend to your garden he realized he wanted to spend his Sunday mornings like that always with you. With you guiding him, teaching him a trade he wasn’t aware he’d ever enjoy. But watching as the morning sun pierced through the gloomy clouds and illuminated you at such a peaceful moment, the only time he swore he’d seen you truly in peace since you’d arrived back in town.

He remembered watching you from a few feet away tugging at the overgrown weeds, your skin glowing even as the sun fought with the overcast clouds to be able to steal glances at you the way Carmy was allowed to while in your presence. The way your gloved hand would travel up to wipe the sweat off of your face, leaving behind a dusting of dirt and mud in its wake. Carmy could indulge in your beauty forever and not just the physical aspects of it but the beauty in your movement, in the way you spoke, the beauty in your personality, and the grace you gave others; especially him.

Carmy’s reverie was broken as his packaged order was placed in front of him, he sent the worker a quick smile thanking them for their service before gathering his food and exiting the establishment. Carmy usually didn’t have many reasons to feel excited about returning to his lodgings, but reminding himself that he was returning home to you was all the truth he needed to lead him back to you.

The sound of keys turning in the door alerted you to Carmy’s return, but you didn’t give it a second thought as you continued working on the rough draft you began writing in his absence. A spark of motivation hit you as you were left to your own devices in your childhood friend’s apartment.

“Baby?” You let out a small distracted hum as you continued working doing your best to build the foundations of an article you were already weeks behind on. “Baby!” Your head shot up at Carmy’s raised call of your name, eyebrows furrowed until you turned to find him still standing by the door, hands full. The worry you could see on his face melted away the longer he looked at the silver of your head barely visible over the couch from your position on the floor.

You quickly stood up making your way towards him, surprised at how full his hands were, your eyes quickly darting around before landing on the bouquet among the few bags. “You get lost on the way home?” Carmen’s cheeks took on a pink hue at your teasing.

His lack of verbal response caused you to falter, unsure if you had read the situation wrong when he asked you to stay. You watched as his eyes glanced over to his small living area, your laptop open on his coffee table with papers he knew weren’t his scattered around it. You prepared yourself to apologize for the mess knowing Carmy had his own system of organized chaos and that maybe having your own added chaos was unwelcome.

“These are for you,” your eyes snapped back to him as he held out the bouquet to you. “There uh nothing compared to Willie’s but I uh…I saw them on the way home and I,” Carmy cleared his throat looking around for any sense of confidence he could find. “I wanted to get them for you.”

You nodded along with his explanation, uncaring of how much the smile on your lips may have given away your feelings, “Thank you for thinking of me, Carm.” Your hand rested on his forearm as you carefully removed the bouquet from his hand, “Let’s get these in some water yeah?”

Carmy sent you a small shy smile placing his now free hand on your back and leading you to the kitchen portion of his apartment, “Is it okay if I use these as a vase?” Carmy looked in your direction after setting the remainder of the bags on unoccupied counter space, a slight chuckle leaving him as you held up the plastic containers he’d use at the restaurant for certain ingredients and often time to drink out of.

“Course’ Baby.” He watched you for a moment longer, the smile on your face easing whatever doubts he’d been feeling about the rocky status of your relationship, one last longing look sent your way as he began unpacking the food.

The smell of delicious food wafted through the air as you began cutting the stems of your bouquet and arranging them in the containers. You could see Carmy moving around in your peripheral, not paying him much attention as he moved around you, your head finally perking up at the sound of the washing machine starting eyes finding Carmy as he once again joined you in the kitchenette.

You finished arranging the flowers, moving to the sink to fill the makeshift vases with water before turning and looking for a spot for them. The containers were momentarily forgotten as your eyes landed on an all too familiar photo hanging on Carmy’s fridge. A small sad smile lined your lips, the five of you all together like one big happy family, your heart ached for the younger versions of each of you in the picture who wouldn’t realize until it was too late that life wouldn’t always be this way. Your eyes strayed to Mikey’s figure for one last time wishing you had just a bit more time with him.

Giving yourself a small moment to tame your emotions, you maneuvered to the only empty counter space still left. Carefully you placed the two containers in the bit of space, a warmth radiating through you at Carmy randomly buying you flowers, you were loathe to admit it but he was the first person to buy you flowers unprovoked, and the fact that this was his second time doing so was not lost on you.

You turned to Carmy to find him still removing food from the takeaway bag, surprised at the amount of boxes now littering his counter. “Do you need any help?” You leaned back against the stove watching as Carmy’s head shot up, almost as if he’d forgotten you were there.

He nodded, “Could you grab some forks, from the drawer to your left.” He turned back to his previous activity, leaving you to grab the utensils.

Locating the only drawer on your left you quickly grabbed the only two forks taking up space in the draw, a soft laugh escaped you, part of you hoping Carmy had more forks that just needed to be clean. You felt a little sad at the idea of him only having utensils for himself, you were curious how much time he even willingly spent in this apartment but it didn’t feel like something you could outright ask given the awkward tension between the two of you. Though for once it wasn’t Carmy’s fault, you caused the awkwardness this time.

Closing the drawer your eyes focused on the forks for a few moments longer, as if they could give you answers to the self-doubt you felt about fixing your relationship with Carm. Moving to join Carmy you caught a very familiar, very intimate photo tapped above the stove.

You did a double take unsure if your eyes were playing tricks on you, but upon staring head-on at the Polaroid, you were surely not mistaken. From the intimate image of you and Carmy in bed, your eyes so full of love looking at the still image almost made you sick, and of course at the bottom your phone number. A part of you felt angry, it didn’t seem like Carmy had just randomly placed the Polaroid above the stove one day, you couldn’t explain it but the placement felt deliberate and if it hung there for however long it did, then why was it so easy for him to give Claire your number instead of calling you himself when you were sure he saw your number almost every day.

Taking a deep breath you allowed yourself to feel hurt about the picture, you had every right to be. But you also knew if you let your hurt guide you the two of you would just fall back into your cycle of arguing and going days without speaking. It was obvious the two of you had a lot more to talk about, so you would take the high road and hope more things got solved tonight.

“Hey Carm,” your hand reached out to delicately remove the photo from its place on the wall.

“Hmm,” he was now occupied with plating you each a portion of the food, eyes not giving you any attention.

A small smirk made its way to your face as you made your way over to him, your arm brushing his as you stopped next to him. “Do you keep all your porn in the kitchen?”

You felt him freeze next to you arms going slack as his head snapped up to look at the side of your face.

“W-what?” You could hear the slight fear and tinge of embarrassment in his voice, the notion making you smile bigger at how easy it was to mess with him. You allowed him to simmer in those feelings as you perused the plates surprised to see the familiar logos on the takeout boxes, your heart warming at Carmy’s attention to detail. You carefully set the forks on each of the dishes before grabbing the one closest to you.

You dropped the Polaroid in the empty spot the plate once was, “Thank you for dinner Carmy.” You placed a chaste kiss on his cheek before maneuvering yourself around him so you could eat.

The apartment was quiet as you took a seat on the floor, placing your plate on the coffee table, before beginning to eat. The quiet expletive that left Carmy’s lips gained a small laugh from you, you sent him a wide smile as he joined you on the couch, neither of you saying a word as you ate dinner.

The awkward air from earlier returned as the two of you finished your respective meals, the quiet dialogue from the random T.V. show playing was the only noise in the apartment as you and Carmy sat on opposite sides of the couch. You intended to initiate a conversation after dinner but found yourself overthinking the best way to address everything between you two at the moment. The longer you sat there in silence the more resigned you felt to just thank Carm for dinner and leave his apartment without another word.

As if the atmosphere wasn’t ripe enough with tension, the “sneaky” glances the two of you stole from each other did little to help especially when one of you caught the other and shy smiles ensued. You felt like a teenager all over again all shy and uncertain. But the longer you sat in Carmy’s apartment you realized just how juvenile this all was, Carmy already knew how strongly you felt for him and if it wasn’t clear when you let him pump and dump you a year ago, then you were damn well sure it was clear when you yelled that you loved him in the restaurant all those weeks ago. And now the two of you were just dancing around what everybody else had known for some time.

Suddenly you sat forward from your position on the couch reaching to grab your bag off the coffee table. Carefully removing the pristine envelope you placed your bag down and turned to look at Carmy, unsurprised to find his eyes already on you.

You held out your hand to him urging him to take the envelope, “This came in the mail today. Everything is in your name now, the trademark is yours, Carm.” You waited with bated breath as his eyes flickered from yours down to the envelope in your hand, confusion sweeping over you the longer the envelope hung between the two of you.

His hand reached out gently removing the object from your grip, you wanted to tease him from the unnecessary contact he’d created. His hand latched delicately around your wrist to hold it in place while his free hand reached for the envelope, the hand still holding your wrist gently slid away as he pulled back making sure each of his work-calloused fingers left behind the whisper of a kiss against your now empty palm.

You watched as he silently opened the envelope taking the time to read over the enclosed document. You could tell he read it more than once, likely soaking in that what he’d been working for was finally coming to fruition; that Mikey’s dream would finally become reality. Your heart lurched as his fingers traced over the printed words, you couldn’t help the wetness that rose to your waterline, a feeling of gratefulness raced through you at the fact that you were back here in Chicago surrounded by family watching each of them accomplish something different.

As Carmy continued ruminating on whatever thoughts were racing through his head, you quietly began gathering your items feeling as though this was a good time to call it a night. You had just slipped on your jacket when you felt pressure at the base of your spine, looking over your shoulder to find Carmy’s confused eyes looking at you.

“You’re leaving?” You were surprised by the slight hurt in his voice, your arms dropping to your side as you felt like you had done something wrong.

You gave him a small nod motioning toward the watch on your wrist, “It's late Carm, I don’t want to inconvenience you more than I already have.” You hoped the joking tone in your voice was evident to him.

“You haven’t inconvenienced me.” The conviction in his voice wasn’t lost as you stared at him for a moment.

A quiet laugh left you, “I showed up at your doorstep unannounced Carm, and then I basically forced you into buying me dinner. Does that not sound inconvenient to you? Plus, I’m sure you want some alone time.”

His eyes locked on yours as though he were searching for something, you couldn’t be sure but standing in his living room under his penetrating gaze like so warmed you. You watched as a light blush raced up his neck, his cheeks tinging a pretty shade of pink, you could tell his mind was racing with what to say next, his eyes were still locked on yours but now had a faraway look to them.

“Would it…ahem,” the clearing of his throat brought his full focus back to you. “Would it be weird if I wanted to spend my alone time with…uh with you?”

It was quiet after his confession, the smile you once held dropping as you realized his words to be serious, his widening eyes told you that he was seconds from backtracking on his previous words. You quickly shook your head, sending him a quick smile.

“Are you asking me to have a sleepover with you, Carmy?” Your eyes were full of mirth as his earlier blush deepened when your eyes found his once again. “Like when we were kids?” The latter question was unnecessary it would always be worth it every time if it meant you got to watch Carmy clam up as he thought of a way to relieve his embarrassment.

You waited for his response, part of you assuming you’d teased him too much as he just stared at you wide-eyed, you tried to laugh off the awkwardness you were beginning to feel. “It was sweet of you to ask Carm, but I don’t have an emergency overnight bag in my car.” You hoped your tone didn’t give away just how much you were actually thinking about accepting his offer.

“You do.” You frowned at his words, eyebrows raising as you urged him to continue, “I mean…it's just that I uh picked up some stuff for you when I was out.”

You felt your heart clench at Carmy’s confession, his eyes looking everywhere but at your as he realized how the whole thing may have come across to you. “I…sorry I didn’t mean to overstep or…or imply anything I just-,”

“Carm hey,” you reached out to grip his hand, your thumb rubbing soothing circles against it. “You didn’t do anything wrong, I’d be happy to spend the night with you.”

He nodded, you could still see the apprehension on his face and you couldn’t tell if it was because of his own actions, or if he was regretting having asked you to stay the night in the first place.

“Not to sound ungrateful but did you happen to pick up anything I could change into?” Your question had its intended effect, diverting Carmy’s attention as he pointed to the washer in answer before leading you back to the kitchenette to the still-full bag you paid little attention to while in the kitchen with him earlier.

To say it was a surprise to see the bag full of the products that could be found in your bathroom back home would be a lie. You zoned out as Carmy took the time to explain that he picked out what he could remember seeing in your shower, your eyes burning into the side of his head as you took the time to allow the events of the past hour to sink into your mind thinking back on the advice you’d received from Natalie.

“Baby?” The questioning tone of Carmy’s voice revealed he tried to gain your attention for some time now.

You blinked a couple of times your eyes immediately finding Carmy’s as you cleared the blur of tears away. You couldn’t help the way your heart seemed to beat faster the longer you looked at him, or the way it ached all the same as though it was longing for a want that was finally so close, a want that could become tangible if you allowed it to. The silence permeated between the two of you, worry lines etching into Carmy’s forehead the longer you went without speaking.

It was as though a realization had just dawned on you, sure you were standing in front of Carmen Berzatto, but you didn’t know this man standing in front of you; not really. He was so different from the young man you left behind all of those years ago and in some ways all the same. Although you’d seen him at Christmas that one time and spent a few hours with him in New York, neither of those instances made up for the 10 years the two of you spent apart living and maturing without each other.

But you wanted to know him, to know him intimately. To know him as a friend and a lover and everything in between. And even though you still had so much time to make up for between the two of you, you knew deep down that it would all be okay. You knew it in the way he cared for you as you showcased your most vulnerable parts to him. He showed it in the way he forgave you so easily for hiding such a horrifying truth from him. In the way he checked in on you over this week as you went silent, the way he so easily invited you into his space made sure you ate, and brought you flowers all because he wanted to.

It felt abysmal the way you were picking at straws at this moment, but Natalie was right the self-sabotaging was getting ridiculous. And right now all you wanted was to be happy, and Carmy seemed to be offering you that in his in-experienced way.

You took a step forward, arms instantly wrapping around his neck as you melted into him regardless of whether he returned your affection. But it was immediate, the way one of his firm arms snaked around your waist, the remaining one moving up to grip the back of your neck holding you as tight as he possibly could, if it was possible you were sure he would’ve melded your bodies together. The rough pad of his thumb swept across the skin of your neck, you listened as he took a sharp intake of breath, his body relaxing into yours even more as he inhaled your scent finding comfort in the mixture of your signature perfume and just the smell of you.

“I’ve missed you so much, Carmen.” The quiet words found their home in the space of his neck, your soft lips leaving behind the ghost of a kiss.

a/n: domestic filler with a subtle splash of fluff and angst. next chapter will pick up where this one left off enjoy. 🤍

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x you #carmy the bear x reader #the bear fic #the bear x reader #the bear x you #all i ever knew only you ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

212 notes · View notes

causenessus · 2 months

Text

try again

part 0.3. FEELING A LITTLE DAPPER

“she still has his contact in her phone. some days she still looks through their old texts; at the last conversation they had, without even knowing it’d be their last. other days, she hovers over the delete button, but she’s never hit it. she could never sever her last tie to him. she wants to believe that maybe their lives are intertwined, sewn together in some way. she looks at the prunus mume tree right outside her office window as she cleans up the place a bit. it had to mean something, right? to her, it didn’t signify a lot, just forever. it was a heart-twisting reminder of him every time she saw it, and she wonders, did he recognize the tree? when he walked into her office and stared out her window, did he recognize it as the one that bears his favorite food? her head instinctively turns to look at it every time she passes it by, much like she used to do when she’d walk by his house when they still lived close to each other, even after they stopped talking. it’s not like there’d be anything new about the tree she hadn’t already seen; the flowers were blooming from the branches dancing in the wind, and its roots were peeking out from underneath the ground, but she still can’t help turning her head every time she walks by it. she can’t ever stop herself from looking at anything that reminds her of him. which is funny, because she sees him in everything; every song is about him, every story is about him–he was everything to her, and he still is everything. he’ll always be in her life. not a lot, just forever.”

content warning: lighthearted joke about being an alcoholic

"when you walked in, i just stood still. i said, 'i'm sorry, love, i have no will. if i try to move, i'll break and spill. tired is the burning sea that calls me to the bottom like a stone. and i'm sinking alone.'"

prev. | m.list | next

extras <3

today has been a day...so if this is a crusty boring chapter i am SO sorry

i tried i promise

when the tea gossipers gc moved in they all ended up writing like a document with multiple agreements

some of which being a cycle in which they will all cook for everyone, or if they're feeling lazy, they have to treat everyone out (but there's a $40 limit on how much they have to pay, anything more than that is either split between the rest of the three roomies or they'll each pay for their own drinks. tldr; there's lots of holes and amendments to this rule)

iwaizumi (although this applies to everyone, it's mainly for him since this is required in the rest of their jobs) is sworn to secrecy because he lives with three people who all specialize in dealing with serious cases and personal lives

omi is very admant about recycling. and he makes sure to wash out everything before it's recycled so that it's done properly (i'm projecting)

the tea gossipers went out to a sushi restaurant first before akaashi and y/n agreed it was too peaceful there and they wanted to go to a bar to drink (they're both only slightly tipsy atp, y/n doesn't feel like getting blackout drunk today and akaashi debating it rn)

the peas in a pod gc went to onigiri miya once omi got home when osamu stood there listening to atsumu explain the situation and try and convince omi to text y/n while omi ignored him the entire time

and then texted y/n five minutes later bc he couldn't hold himself back anymore

and as mentioned in the beginning :) y/n has kept his contact and a pfp of him from when he played volleyball when he was younger

taglist: @eggyrocks @wyrcan @guitarstringed-scars @strawberryuri @violetesensou @kakeru-eem @glmge @heytheredemonsss @mollyrolls @bemebiu @daszy @snail-squasher @0moonii @thiisisntlovely @todorokiskitten @rory-cakes @iiwaijime @iatethemochi @yuminako @savemebrazilhinata @kismyscars @bokutoko @nobodybutnnoorr @wolffmaiden @daisy-room @softpia @lees-chaotic-brain @v3nusplanetofluv @crispchocolates @phoenix-eclipses @hhoneyhan @encrypta @rockleeisbaeeee @cr4yolaas @zombriesworld @localgaytrainwreck @moucheslove @hibernatinghamster @notverymarley @certaindreampost @akaakeis @ciderscape @lucien-luna @strawbrinkofdeath @wave2mia @samuel1004 @01trickster10 @dazqa @cosmiicdust @chemiru

119 notes · View notes

separatist-apologist · 2 months

Text

Long Live

Summary: All archeologist Elain Archeron wants is answers about the past.

Fate is determined to give them to her

MASSIVE thank you @abbadinfluence for having the idea AND allowing me to write - I've had the time of my life, this has been so fun.

And @octobers-veryown for being my personal Rome/Italy consultant- thank you for your knowledge, your time, and most importantly, catching when I used a particularly offensive and/or wrong swear word

For @elucienweekofficial | Read on AO3

Italy in July was miserable. Rome itself was even worse with all the blacktops and the people crammed together. Tourists mingled with locals, moving in crowds so large Elain thought it was a wonder no one got lost inside. How many parents lost track of their children that way, she wondered?

Elain sidestepped a vendor thrusting flowers into her face, one hand up as she shook her head back and forth. She’d lived in Rome for the past five years and thought she knew it like the back of her hand. All its imperfections, the warts it hid, the secrets it tried to keep buried—Elain knew it all.

Or, she thought she did. But when she got a call from University higher-ups that a couple had accidentally uncovered a mosaic floor that, at least on first glance, looked as though it belonged to the Imperial period, which Elain found exciting. She’d been tapped to lead the excavation, her first ever.

She was prepared, ready to go…and wandering toward the Spanish steps for reasons that were still unclear to her. She ought to be in her office running through her plans one last time. Something called her the way it so often did, pulling like a thread tied to her ribs. Elain often found herself jerking awake at night covered in a thin sheen of sweat, trying to recall what, exactly, woke her.

It was driving her fiance crazy. Graysen was ready to leave Rome altogether and return to the United States where Elain would spend more time teaching than she would doing actual archeological work. It sounded miserable to her…and yet she’d promised when he’d slid that ring on her finger.

She didn’t want to go back. She was buying herself time with the mosaic floor but once that was done, she knew Graysen’s patience would reach its end. Maybe that was what drove Elain into the hot Italian sun with only a half-filled bottle of sunscreen taking up space at the bottom of her bag. At least she had her hat.

Battling tourists, Elain made her way up the steps, skin sweat soaked before she’d made it even a third of the way up. Why did she keep doing this to herself?

Because you’ll miss it.

Even the heat, miserable as it could be, was a welcome friend Elain didn’t want to lose. Gray was from the rainy northwest and spoke often about how he longed to return to cloud cover and days that rarely topped the mid-70s.

No more sunburns, he’d reminded her cheerfully just the night before. And sure, the bridge of Elain’s nose was sunburned so often she suspected she’d be in trouble when she was older, but it wasn’t from a lack of trying. And she tanned so nicely in the aftermath that she almost didn’t care.

As she reached the top of the steps, a new, yet persistent thought wormed its way through her mind. You don’t have to marry him.

Catching her breath, Elain banished it. She did have to marry him. They’d been together for years, he’d moved across the world to be with her, had stayed the last five years when it would have been easier to leave. He’d never acclimated to Italian culture, could barely speak the language despite being immersed in it, and he loathed the weather, the tourists, and the locals on scooters who did, on occasion, attempt to mow down a pedestrian in their way.

As if life in the US was so much better. It was merely familiar to him. Elain thought it would all feel foreign and strange, too bright and too loud for her eyes and ears. She didn’t want to return, didn’t want to find a new job or give up a career she was passionate about.

But she couldn’t tell him. Elain knew if she told him, Graysen would ask why they were even getting married, a question he’d broached the first time she’d dug in her heels and said she didn’t want to go. Maybe he’d known it would scare her—she’d certainly folded fairly quickly—or maybe it was how he felt.

All she knew was that if he left, no one would ever be able to love her again. Not like he did. No one would have done even half of what Gray had done for her and she knew she’d never find another man willing to tolerate her obsession, her long hours, and her unwillingness to leave Rome.

Her whole life was a love letter to the city. Elain still remembered how the love affair had begun. She’d heard a story about the goddess Diana turning the hunter Acteaon into a deer when he’d accidentally spied her bathing and Elain had been desperate to hear more. Learn more. It had started with mythology, which spawned an interest in the emperor's themselves. So much of their lives had been mythologized that it felt like listening to a particularly bloody story on par with the gods themselves.

That had spawned a love affair with Roman architecture and history that persisted even to that day. Elain had a doctorate in archeology, was tenured at [Roman University], and lived in the city. It all felt like a dream—one that was slowly becoming a nightmare.

Elain took a breath, intending to return to work if only to get her out of the sun and out of her head. She turned, delighted to see a familiar blonde grinning as she made her way toward her.

“You’re not working today?” Arina asked in her thick, Italian accent. She was the first friend Elain had made when she landed in Rome, bright eyed and so painfully American that people could clock her on the street.

“I should be,” Elain replied, falling into step with Arina. Arina wasn’t from Rome, but Florence, though Elain never would have been able to tell given the way Arina moved through the city. She wasn’t concerned with the men constantly trying to stop her to talk, nor did she care about the vehicles on the road not paying attention when she was in the street. Elain had once watched her scream at a man, hands in the air, curses flying as vicious as any knife.

Arina joked that Elain was the lover, she the fighter.

“What are you doing out here?” Arina demanded, eyeing a woman in khakis with that familiar, Roman judgment Elain hoped to never be on the opposite end of.

“Graysen got a job up in Oregon,” Elain told her, earning an eye roll from Arina.

“Let him go,” she said dismissively. “As if there aren’t men in Rome. They’re all awful, but they’re here. Maybe you could find the one good one, wherever he is.”

“I don’t want another man,” Elain said, a familiar refrain. Arina rolled her eyes again, mumbling something Elain didn’t quite catch under her breath.

“Explain it to me again. Like I’m stupid,” Arina ordered, weaving in and out of crowds without batting an eye. “What about him is so special?”

“You’ve never been in love?” Elain questioned, certain they’d had this conversation a million times before.

Arina shrugged. “Every time I see a beautiful face. So what? What does love have to do with anything?”

“Love is everything—”

“He’s holding you back. He’d see your career crumble to dust if it meant he could be comfortable. Let him go back if that’s what he wants, and let him realize the best thing that ever happened to him was this city.”

“You just don’t understand,” Elain said without anger. Arina didn’t—Elain knew her friend wasn’t lying about how often she fell in love. The problem was how easily Arina fell out of love, too.

The light would shift, dawn would break, and Arina was over it. A lifetime had passed in her mind and whoever she’d imagined herself to be while she’d been with that man was gone, too. Elain envied Arina’s ability to put herself above everything else, to walk away when things no longer suited her.

A greater woman wouldn’t let a man dictate her entire life. Was she pathetic? She’d wondered that many times throughout her relationship with Graysen. Elain simply did not know how to love herself more than she loved him. She wanted love, the kind that people wrote songs about. The kind that transcended time itself. Elain knew that Graysen wasn’t that kind of love, and yet she still couldn’t leave.

She simply wanted to be with him more than she wanted to start all over again. What if there was no one else? What if no one else could love her? She was scared and if she was honest with herself, she knew that was what would convince her to resign and return to the United States.

“I understand perfectly well,” Arina disagreed, pulling Elain from her thoughts. “We lose too many good women to these losers that have nothing going on for them. He’ll have you in his kitchen, pregnant while your research is dustier than Cicero’s writings and the world will be a worse place for it. You’re on the verge of something big, Elain. What if this is the missing estate of Emperor Lucius—”

“It’s not,” she said firmly, heart pounding in her throat. Arina had hurt her feelings just enough that Elain didn’t want to play the what-if game. Finding the missing home of the late Emperor would give Elain the one thing she’d always wanted—true insight into the missing Empress Helena . Every piece of research she’d done over the past five years had centered around the two of them.

In the later writings before Lucius died, he lamented the loss of Helena , though he never spoke of what happened to her. Only that she had gone on the eve of a great battle, leaving scholars to speculate she had returned to the fringes of the Empire, back to Britania where she had been born. There was no record of her departure, no writings that confirmed she’d ever arrived. Elain’s thesis had been that Elena had been slaughtered by Saxons before she made it home and could write to the Emperor, and Lucius had been so heartbroken, he’d never been able to write the whole story down.

Not everyone agreed, of course. A myriad of other scholars believed she’d died in childbirth or Lucius had divorced her, bending to public pressure around his foreign born wife. The one thing they all agreed on, however, was that he’d loved her. If Elain could find the home he’d had outside the city—the home it was rumored that she often stayed in during the final months of their marriage—Elain could piece together the final days of the Empress and validate her research.

Finding proof of the Empress right as Graysen wanted to leave would put Elain in a terrible position. Did she stay and end her relationship? Or did she pick Graysen and leave someone else to finish what she’d started, taking all the credit while she became exactly what Arina accused her of?

Elain could think of nothing else that night as she made her way back to the little apartment she shared with Graysen. He had the shutters closed tight like he always did because he hated the sounds of the city that Elain loved so much. While he stared down at his phone, she made her way methodically through the home and unlatched the windows, ignoring the heavy sigh he exhaled behind her.

“So,” she began, Arina’s words still ringing in her head, “tomorrow is the beginning of the excavation.”

Graysen seemed to perk up. “How long will it take?”

Months. Elain shrugged. “A month, maybe less.”

Better to lie and drag it out than tell him the truth and let him tell her no right away.

“I’m looking at houses,” Graysen told her as he rose from a black leather chair. “I want you to look at some of them, tell me what you think.”

Elain’s heart began to race all over again. “Houses?”

Graysen stepped around her, shoes still on, to make his way toward the kitchen. “Yes, Elain. Houses. Aren’t you tired of these tiny ass apartments in these dirty fucking cities?”

No. “Where are you looking?”

“Outside Portland. Close enough to commute but quiet. A place with a lawn, and neighbors for our kids to play with.”

Elain thought she might be sick. “Kids?”

Graysen whipped around so fast Elain stumbled back a step. “We’ve talked about this, Elain. Kids, a family, a life.”

“I know…I just thought…” She didn’t know what she thought, honestly. Biting her bottom lip, Elain said, “I’m not ready for kids, Gray.”

“Let’s just get out of here, first, and get married. This is just a plan, okay? Don’t freak out, baby.”

But she was freaking out. Even as Graysen pulled her into his chest, all she could think about was Arina’s accusation that Graysen wanted to turn her into his housewife. “In a year, who knows? Maybe you’ll be tired of all this, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she lied.

Elain knew she’d never be tired of it.

—

Lucien glanced over at his brother, lounging casually against a pillar. They weren’t alone. As they waited just outside the Curia. Voices echoed off the high ceiling, slipping into the ether before any one could be untangled for a curious eavesdropper. Normally, Lucien would try and pick out the philosophers from the politicians but today he was focused.

If they succeeded—and it was a big if—he needed to be entirely focused. The same was true if they failed, honestly. If their plot was revealed before they could carry it out, Lucien would be jailed for treason before being made into a public spectacle.

Beron would see the Empire laid to ruin under his madness. The people starved, their coffers were dwindling by the day, and the city was still reeling from a recent fire. They needed stability. They’d tried other means first. Eris had poisoned multiple goblets of wine, they’d sent snakes, assassins—everyone failed.

It was time to get their own hands bloody.

For the sixth time that day, Lucien adjusted the fabric of his toga draped over an arm, careful to ensure the purple stripe was visible. Across the room, Jurian glanced out the open bronze doors, cheeks flushed from the heat. It was a miserable day already, the sun bearing down on them unbearably. Lucien wanted to retreat to the countryside where he swore to the gods it was never this hot.

The entry went silent as Beron swept in, devoid of the guards Octavian had once commanded. Beron believed himself to be divine, more god than man. Lucien intended to show him otherwise.

Eris stepped forward, immaculate despite the heat, and bowed his head in a show of deference. “Are we ready?”

Beron’s brown eyes swept the room. “Is this everyone today?”

“There’s a war, if you recall,” Lucien reminded the Emperor, trying not to grind his teeth. Another costly war with the gauls that was unlikely to yield anything but more widows and wasted money. Beron was going to cost them Britania if he wasn’t careful—Lucien knew the Saxons were watching, waiting to see how things shook out on the Germanic border. How long before Beron was sending Lucien out to war, too?

And Eris?

Before every enemy he had in Rome was marching on a battlefield where a knife to the back was much easier to orchestrate? Lucien didn’t intend on dying that way. No, if he died it was going to be in his bed because old age had finally come for him. If he was lucky, he’d be surrounded by children and grandchildren, though that assumed he had a wife and Lucien had not been lucky on that front.

If he let himself think about Jesminda, Lucien would utterly fail in his part in their plot. He couldn’t help himself, ruminating on his failures that had led to her death. It had been no one's fault…and yet he blamed himself anyway. Married for just a year—the best year of Lucien’s life, if he was honest with himself. He’d been just a junior Senator then, a nobles son from the Galatia province desperate to cut his teeth on Roman politics.

And Jesminda had been…well. She’d been wild. Too wild for patrician life and yet she’d tried anyway. If Lucien had been smart, he would have given it all up and taken her far, far away from the city. He’d merely loved it too much and assured himself she would learn to love it, too. Everything had been for her. The money, the social climbing—everything.

She should have been with him, listening to him plotting from beside him in their shared bed. And their child…he should have been there, too. He’d have been toddling around by then, speaking his first words with a mop of Jesminda’s dark curls. Lucien thought of them often, wishing Jesminda hadn’t lost her life trying to bring his son into the world.

By the time Lucien realized what was happening, it was all too late. Jesminda was gone, hair stained red from all the blood she’d lost. He hadn’t even been able to tell her goodbye. And the babe…the baby hadn’t lasted the night, taking his last, frail breaths from Lucien’s trembling arms. He’d prayed on his knees to the gods, begging them to let the baby to live.

And then he’d prayed to bring her back. He’d offered a trade—his life for hers. He’d go into the underworld himself if he could only just find it. The gods were silent, their decision final. So he raged, instead, and then he fell silent when it was clear there was no undoing what was done. No bringing either of them back, no happiness the way he’d envisioned it.

And he knew eventually he’d marry another Senator's daughter, likely to cement some powerful alliance between them. Lucien dreaded it all the same.

Lost in thought, he’d forgotten where he was or what he was doing until Jurian’s elbow connected with his rib. No words were exchanged between them, but Lucien knew what Jurian was asking.

Are you still coming?

There was time to back out if he wanted. Lucien might have if he’d been a coward, but he wasn’t. He was going to see Eris crowned Emperor if it was the last thing he did and it might be. Beron wasn’t known for being merciful. In one particular instance of lunacy, Beron had decided to wage war with Neptune himself, marching an army all the way to the shores of Britannia only to slash at the sea with his sword.

That had been Lucien’s final breaking point. He’d read the report through clenched teeth and decided right then and there that he’d had enough. Beron made a mockery of Rome’s greatness and threatened to undo everything their predecessors had worked for. Lucien would be damned if he let the Empire fall to ruin when there was a simple fix.

He followed Jurian into the Curia, closing the bronze doors behind him with a heavy click. Dragging his eyes around the room, Lucien focused on the bright green and red tiles adorning the floors rather than look behind Beron at the fountain of Saturn bubbling cheerfully in a stream of bright, golden light. In a few moments—just as soon as Eris gave the signal—those same tiles would be soaked with blood.

“Is this everyone who means to attend today?” Beron demanded, unaware this session had been called in secret. Of the six hundred Senators, only fifty were in attendance and that was by design. By the time the rest learned of what happened, Eris’s guards would have taken the city and he’d be crowned Emperor.

Eris only shrugged, fingers flexing over his chest. That was the signal. The rest of them made their way toward Beron, still unaware, while Jurian stood against the door to keep Beron from getting out or his guards, were they to show up, from getting in.

Eris’s blade connected with Beron’s stomach first—he’d wanted the first cut given Beron had raised him. He’d been a cruel father before he’d been a crueler Emperor. It was only right that Eris got the satisfaction of looking Beron in the eye and Beron knowing the plot had been orchestrated by Eris.

Beron’s knees buckled, eyes wide not with fear but blazing, burning hatred. “Omnis homo mendax,” he spat, clearly caught off guard. Lucien joined the fray, his blade bloodied by the time Beron gasped out his last.

It wasn’t the first death he’d ever seen—but it was one of the more satisfying ones. Panting, arm aching from the effort it took to pierce flesh and bone, Lucien looked up at Eris.

“We must go, brother,” he warned as Jurian pushed off the door. “Quickly, before this was all for nothing.” They’d made it five steps across the room, Senators trailing behind Eris, when the doors shoved open. Armed guards with familiar faces made their way into the room. They weren’t Eris’s men, but Lucien’s and when they saw him, they immediately took a knee.

“What are you doing?” Lucien demanded. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go.

“Beron’s men swept the city,” Antonius began apprehensive, looking from the pooling blood to Lucien. “Say the word and we’ll secure the city in your name.”

“Where are my—”

“Dead, Senator,” Antonius told him, jaw set with determination. They had seconds to act before word spread—before one of the Senators standing behind them had a change of heart and declared himself Dictator. “Say the word.”

Lucien turned to Eris, thinking of Beron’s last words. Omnis homo mendax. Every man is a liar. Eris must have been thinking it, too. Would they become enemies? Lucien needed Eris’s support, not just politically, but generally. They were brothers in every way that mattered, though also technically as Lucien’s mother was Eris’s mother. He’d been sent away when he’d been born rather than shame Beron’s good name and Lucien imagined it must have rankled Beron to see the product of his wife’s infidelity turn up in Rome as a man.

Lucien wouldn’t give the word until Eris did.

“Better you than anyone else,” Eris finally said, sweeping aside the fabric of his toga to kneel before Lucien. “Take the city.”

“Go,” Lucien ordered, heart racing. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. It should have been him on his knees while Eris was crowned, not the other way around. Lucien had never been so ambitious, hadn’t spent the years cultivating allies and purging his enemies. Right then, Lucien wasn’t sure if he could trust anyone in that room. Even as Antonius stood, barking orders to lock the city down until everyone loyal to Beron was removed, Lucien wondered if there wouldn’t be a dagger in his back by the end of the day.

There was no taking it back. Only Jurian had a sense of humor about the whole thing, laughing loudly as Lucien approached.

“Well,” he said with a broad, unrestrained grin, “long live the Emperor.”

Lucien very much doubted he’d live long at all.

And still.

Long live the Emperor.

ELAIN:

The whole drive out into the countryside, all Elain could think about was Graysen and the plans he’d made. She felt like a doll in a toy box, one that could be moved around at will but had no say in where she went or what she did. He’d sent her the houses he was looking into, aided by his parents who were already touring them back in the states and sending pictures of each room.

This would be perfect for a nursery. That had been the message his mother had sent over, showing off a large room with bay windows overlooking a spacious, lush backyard. Elain’s stomach was still churning as she thought about it. Her future was decided—all she had to do was smile and nod her head.

Truthfully, she probably didn’t need to even do that much. Just stay with him and Graysen would decide it all for her. She could be passive, even in her own life. A leaf blown along stronger winds until she was a stranger even to herself. If she thought about it too hard, Elain started to cry though she didn’t understand why.

This was what she wanted. She’d told Graysen so for years—she wanted kids, wanted marriage, wanted the white picket fence and the house in the suburbs. So why did it fill her with panic now that she was so close to getting everything she’d ever wanted?

The bus jostled, tire slamming into a pothole. Arina slammed against Elain from the seat beside her, elbow hitting her rib as Elain’s temple collided with the glass. Arina mumbled out a quick apology, her own expression as moody as the sky overhead. Elain didn’t think it was going to rain, though the cloud cover was a welcome relief after the week they’d had. She didn’t think she could withstand a straight month of nothing but sun.

Though, she would. Elain needed good news. She wanted to excavate a whole estate, with statues and a fountain—and if she was lucky, and the current homeowners unlucky, a bath house too.

For now, though, she had a mosaic floor and that was enough to keep her busy and away from home. She and Arina had booked a room in the village and would stay for the next week before returning to Rome for the weekend. Elain considered, briefly, telling Graysen her cell reception was bad.

And yet there she was, right then, texting him.

Miss you already.

What was wrong with her, she wondered? She ought to be studied. Crack open her skull and see where the disconnect between her heart and mind was because rationally Elain knew what she needed to do. It was emotionally that tangled her all up. She still loved him, still wanted everything they’d talked about. And part of her hoped, foolishly, that she could have everything if she simply refused to make a choice.

“I can hear your thoughts,” Arina complained when Elain remained uncharacteristically quiet. “You might as well scream them at me.”

“Shut up.”

“No, I won’t shut up,” Arina replied without malice. “What did he do now?”

“Nothing,” Elain said, resting her head on the window of the bus. “He’s looking at houses in Portland.”

Arina wrinkled her nose with distaste, though Elain was willing to bet if she laid out a map of the United States, Arina couldn’t tell her where Portland even was. It didn’t matter when Elain also knew that Arina simply thought there was nowhere better to live but Italy. Elain agreed, though she had no intention of admitting that to Arina just then. Her smugness would be unbearable.

“Did you tell him you don’t want to go?”

Elain sighed, earning an even heavier sigh from Arina.

“Why not? What are you waiting for?”

“I don’t know? A sign from Jupiter?” she joked weakly. “If he could just…tell me what I should do—”

��That’s what your gut is for but you’re not listening,” Arina replied, poking Elain in the ribs. “He’s already there telling you to dump Gray and step into your destiny.”

“What a cliche,” Elain lamented, turning her eyes back toward the green Italian landscape. “She’s married to her work.”

“Better than being some man’s slave,” Arina muttered darkly.

“How do you do that? Turn it all off, I mean?” Elain asked curiously. “My parents were so in love and I just want a sliver of what they had.”

“Well, my parents were not in love—not like that, anyway. My father was loud and mean and my mother tolerated it. Abuse wasn’t in her vocabulary, and she’d been taught that was just how men were. And I told myself I would never let a man steal my life from me. You’re going to die one day, Elain. Is this how you want to spend it?”

“If I could make myself love him less, I would.”

“You don’t have to love him less, just love yourself more,” Arina told her softly. Her words struck Elain harder than any physical blow, robbing her of breath. Love yourself more. Elain didn’t know how. Her whole life had been in service of others—keeping the peace between her two sisters and their loud personalities, taking care of her father when her mother died, making sure everyone was happy no matter what. When Graysen came along, Elain was working toward something that made her happy at the expense of what everyone else wanted for her and he’d seemed supportive. How many times had Gray said he wanted to take care of her, for once?

He’d encouraged her to apply for the professorship in Italy, had been so willing to pack up his life and move that she felt selfish, suddenly, for denying him something he clearly wanted.

Relationships were give and take, right?

Arina shook her head, reading Elain’s mind like she always did. Elain wore her every thought against her expression, making it easy for the rest of the world to know what she was thinking. Or maybe Arina just understood Elain better than anyone else—she couldn’t be sure.

They arrived not much later, arriving in idyllic Caprarola. From there it was a decent walk hauling all their supplies toward the home nestled among rolling hills and the remnants of the Italian Renaissance. Arina was in heaven, pointing out this architectural style and that type of stone while Elain tried to stay present in the moment.

Her thoughts kept shifting back to Gray. Glancing upward at the cloud-filled sky, she wondered if it was foolish to send a prayer to a god she didn’t believe in. Still, as Elain climbed out after Arina, she decided to try.

Saturn, if you can hear me- give me a sign. Anything. I’ll take any sign at all.

Elain didn’t know why she settled on Saturn other than she was thinking about Rome, still, and the old temple of Saturn that had once stood in the forum. It didn’t matter. Saturn didn’t exist and there would be no divine intervention. No signs, no watchful gods trying to steer her on the right path.

“Are you ready?” Arina whispered, lacing her fingers through Elain’s for a moment to offer an excited squeeze. Elain was desperate, her plans tucked up under her arms. The first few days would be carefully excavating the existing floor and looking for anything else that may be nearby. Elain felt a little bad for the homeowners—if their home was on top of Roman ruins, it belonged to the Italian government.

Arina had no business being there other than Elain had invited her. They didn’t need an art historian this early in the process and yet as they all descended on the backyard, Elain was glad she’d brought Arina.

“Wow,” Arina murmured, eyes as bright as the midday Italian sun. Time had faded the once vibrant blue and red tiles and still they were visible beneath the scattered layer of dirt. There, a good six feet or more underground, lay the one glorious floor of a Roman. If she was lucky, the rumors would be true and she'd uncover it belonged to Emperor Lucien.

And if she was less lucky, she’d still get to excavate a piece of Roman history.

“Let’s get started.”

So much of the day was inching along carefully—Elain spent the vast majority of the day creating a grid of the site and assigning her grad students to each square. From there they took pictures in an attempt to see what lay beneath the soil, all of which was noted very carefully in logs. Though she was desperate to start digging, it was important to ensure nothing was damaged.

There was more than just a floor there—Elain was certain that it had a whole bath house within that yard and the one connected to the neighbors. No matter what happened next, Elain knew she had a patrician’s home under her feet.

She didn’t sleep well. Her dreams were drenched in color so bright she woke with a pounding headache and aching eyes, her skin so sweaty the sheets stuck to her body. Elain had fallen asleep texting Graysen, frustrated he wasn’t more excited about her potential discovery. He’d mustered a, that’s great, babe! before going right back to sending her house listings and pictures from his mom.

Make a choice.

Elain wanted to throw her life to the wolves and see what happened. She was frustrated and tired and if she was honest with herself, bored to death. The idea that this was the future waiting for her made her stomach tumble viciously, not with excitement but dread.

Wasn’t that enough of a sign?

She still loved him. Loved him enough to want to want the life he was offering her. What was so bad about it? Other than the dreary monotony and the fact that it was only her sacrificing her dreams? People went their whole lives without the kind of security Graysen was promising. Why couldn’t she just decide? Why couldn’t she get over herself and be the right woman for him? Elain vowed that night she’d show more enthusiasm, pick a house, and get on board. It wasn’t fair to punish him for her indecision and she couldn’t stay with him if it made her unhappy. If they were going to be together then they needed to be together.

Elain shook the thought from her head and laced up her boots. Today she was getting dirty, which meant utility pants and a white shirt tucked neatly into the waistband. She’d pulled her thick curls into a messy french braid and slathered sunscreen over her face before jamming her wide brim sun hat against her head.

Arina was waiting in a soft, blue cotton dress that looked beautiful against the golden brown of her skin. She’s left her hair down, her face uncovered and a little mascara slicked over her eyelashes. Elain envied Arina’s ability to seem effortlessly put together regardless of the circumstances, though she was absurdly overdressed for excavating.

“I’ll leave the dirt to you,” Arina said with a grin, reading Elain’s thoughts as she so often did. “I want to see that Roman bath.”

“I think we’ve got a genuine hot tub,” Elain said, pulling out some of the pictures taken the day before. “Intact and well preserved, though we won’t know until we’re looking at it.”

“Let’s get to it, then,” Arina replied.

And so they did. The morning was spent carefully digging. Her grad students were obviously frustrated by the afternoon, having grown up on a steady diet of The Mummy and Indiana Jones. Real life archeology was slower, careful and precise. After all, no one wanted to be the person who destroyed a priceless piece of history because they’d been too eager and careless.

And Elain was desperate at that point—she’d been right. A whole bath house was emerging, pieces crumbling from centuries of disuse, its lead pipes cracked, the tiles chipped. She’d resketched their area to include the new discovery, demolishing nearly the entire back garden. The owners of the home watched from the window, scowls on their faces. Maybe it had been unkind of Elain to send the grad student she liked the least to let them know what had been found. She’d been in that position, once, though not to this degree, and decided it was a character defining moment.

The afternoon was spent going layer by layer in the soil, careful not to accidentally miss anything that may have shifted over the centuries. They dug up a couple necklaces and the broken pieces of an amphora that once had held water or wine—or maybe oil. It was hard to tell given the few shards they had.

Elain worked well into the night, turning overhead lights on as she crept closer and closer to a true, Roman bath. Arina stayed with her, even after they cut their grad students loose.

“Should we be here this late?” Arina asked, climbing gingerly down into the trench Elain had dug.

“No…but I want to see it before anyone else.”

Elain swore the world felt different down in that hole. Surrounded by the white and red mosaic, cracked and in some places completely gone, Elain could almost imagine what it would have been like.

“Look at this,” Arina breathed, running her fingers over a half ruined fresco on what was left of an archway.

“What’s the time period?”

“Imperial for sure,” Arina told her, echoing what Elain already knew. Still, the confirmation was nice. There would be no narrowing it down tonight, though they both were thinking the same thing—this could belong to the period Lucius had ruled. This could be the home he’d died in, where he’d penned those journals lamenting the loss of his late wife Elena.

“Look at this,” Arina said, beckoning for Elain to follow after her. Careful of where they stepped, the pair made their way to the furthest wall to look at what once would have been a vibrant fresco. The reds had faded to a rusty colored orange, the faces worn away by time.

“It’s Chronos,” Arina breathed, fingers hovering without quite touching. “See how he hunches over? His beard is still there…just barely. And here, it’s Kairos I think. Usually a younger, handsome man beside Chronos would be Kairos—”

“Greek?”

She shrugged. “The Romans borrowed a lot from the Greeks. Perfected it, I’m sure they’d say. The wealthy would have known all the Greek philosophers and they would have been familiar with Greek mythology. I suppose our Emperor was a fan.”

“Why have the Greek god of time on the wall?” Arina looked around in the dark, trying to make out the rest of the wall. “It’s probably some larger theme. Maybe he was worried about the years passing? Or not seizing an opportunity?”

Static had caused pieces of Arina’s blonde hair to stand on end and the smell of something sulfuric had begun to fill the air. Elain, like Arina, was transfixed by the image and the space they currently stood in.

Arina glanced at Elain. “No one would know if we just—”

“Carefully,” she said, heart thudding with excitement. “If the oil from our fingers—”

“Think about how they used to excavate things. No gloves, just dirty hands,” Arina said as she pulled a thing of vanilla scented hand sanitizer from the bag wrapped around her waist. “We can’t be any worse than them.”

Elain didn’t know about that, though she didn’t argue. With one hand, she clasped Arina’s, linking them inextricably and with the other she reached for the wall at the same moment Arina did.

A hook jerked just behind her navel, ripping her forward so quickly Elain’s eyes slammed shut to avoid the inevitable crash against solid, Roman concrete. She was going to be in so much trouble—the university would be irate when they realized she and Arina had destroyed a priceless piece of Roman architecture.

Elain and Arina tumbled to the ground, elbow connecting with the solid floor. The smell of sulfur was more present as heat danced along her skin. Elain felt condensation on her cheek, mopped up from the floor she was sprawled against.

Arina groaned, dragging her lower body off of Elain. “I’m sorry…” she began, voice trailing off. Opening her eyes, Elain expected to be engulfed by darkness. Instead, she found bronze lamps hanging from the ceiling blazing, illuminating a truly magnificent room. A bath room, complete with a massive pool with glittering blue water that wafted steam up toward the vaulted ceiling. Empty chaises with plush, red fabric were set along the wall painted in colors so vivid Elain was certain she must be hallucinating.

Arina stood, her white dress ripped just above the knee from where they’d fallen. While Elain remained on the ground, desperately trying to catch her breath, Arina went to look at the painting.

“Look,” she said, her voice too breathless for Elain’s liking. “It’s the same fresco. There he is…Chronos—”

“Qu quidnam facis?”

Elain and Arina turned, Elain clambering to her feet as the latin words slithered through the warm air. There, just outside an open bronzed door, stood two men in belted brown tunics and worn, leather sandals. Dark curls spilled over olive skin, while two sets of brown eyes stared at them accusingly.

“We…” Elain trailed off, unsure what to make about any of this.

“Chi sei esattamente?!” Arina snapped back in sharp Italian. It was the wrong thing to say in perhaps the wrong language, because the two men began calling for guards in Latin. In Latin. Elain couldn’t get her mind to keep up with what was happening because Latin was a dead language and no one spoke it outside of academia. She was dreaming, she decided, and not even having iron cuffs clamped around her wrist could convince her otherwise.

“Elain,” Arina whispered when the doors to the room they were being held in were locked, “I think we’re in trouble.”

“Wake up,” Elain whispered to herself.

But she never did.

—

Lucien was in hell. Declared Emperor by the cohortes praetoriae, Lucien found himself standing before a packed Senate, about to be crowned. Among the gathered crowd of patricians, Lucien found his older brother looking back at him, cheeks reddened from the heat. There was no taking it back, not without making his whole line look weak and painting a target on their backs.

He didn’t understand how it had happened. Somewhere in the very back, Lucien saw his father talking with another Senator, deliberately not looking at his son.

This kind of maneuver had his father written all over it.

It was tempting to touch the golden fibula on his shoulder, each bearing the symbols of Rome. Lucien still felt like he was dreaming and had ever since the purple paludamentum had been brought to him, now fluttering behind his armor. He was the picture of Roman strength, the promise of the Roman future. And as he stood before his peers, Lucien felt like a fraud.

He hadn’t been born to rule. And still, he had the recognition and support of the Roman Army—all he needed was the Senate to declare him Imperator Caesar and Lucien as he’d once been would be no more.

The room went silent as Eris stood, the only living consul available to Lucien at the moment—they’d executed the other just the morning before. Lucien could still hear the wails of the man’s widow as Jurian had dragged him cowering from his home where Lucien had been waiting, sword in hand. He may not have considered himself worthy of the title, but he’d be damned if some sniveling coward put a knife in his back.

Eris could refuse. Could spit at Lucien’s feet if he’d wanted. Lucien knew he wouldn’t, though he could see the furious resentment burning in Eris’ gaze. The only thing that would spare Lucien was the knowledge that Lucien had not been the one to betray Eris. He doubted it would save his father from Eris’ wrath, and it had occurred to Lucien that he might be better off sending Eris to a far-flung province and forgetting him entirely.

He needed his brother. Eris was just as cunning, just as conniving, but with a talent for surviving. Lucien wanted Eris at his right hand until the day he died, and so when his brother who should have been Emperor approached, Lucien let him. He knew the vipers surrounding them were half hoping for a spectacle—a little more blood spilled on the floor, a little more violence to satisfy their hunger.

Eris held a golden crown made to look like laurel leaves. “Behold,” Eris said, his voice echoing off the vaulted ceilings overhead, “Imperator Caesar Augustus Lucius. Long may He serve Rome.” Lucien inclined his head just enough for Eris to set that crown atop his head before his eyes swept over the room, trying to meet the eyes of everyone who was still living. I let you live, he hoped his expression said, I will not be so generous if you betray me.

And then he launched into the speech he’d spent the night working on. Lucien had read from predecessors long past, looking at those who had done the job well and the words they’d spoken. He wanted to evoke a sense of safety and trust—he was here to take care of the Roman people, not enrich himself at their expense. And to that end, Lucien had ordered a month of games starting on the next kalendes to give him time to prepare a true spectacle and get himself mostly settled into his new position.

His proclamation was received with thunderous applause—everyone loved an excuse to celebrate and it had been a long time since they’d had cause for it. Beron had all but banned the games, calling them too expensive and too distracting to a populace better suited for work than pleasure.

It wasn’t the Roman way. Had Eris not orchestrated his death, Beron was well on his way to being declared enemy of the people much like Nero before him. Lucien had been content to wait and watch before Eris put his foot down. Did his brother regret it, he wondered?

With the Senate convened, Lucien was free to accept congratulations from his fellow patricians. Jurian and Eris hung back by the door, waiting for the rest to file out so they could descend on Lucien like wolves.

He needed to speak with his father. Catching the older man by the wrist, Lucien muttered, “Was this your doing?” Helion was unrepentant. “Blasphemy, son.”

“You—”

“Not here. Dinner with your mother and I? I assume our new Imperator isn’t so busy he can’t spare a little time for his mother?”

Lucien ground his teeth together before nodding. “Fine. Send word when you’d like me.”

“You have a standing invitation,” Helion reminded him before sauntering out, the last of the stragglers.

“How does it feel?” Jurian asked once Helion was gone. Lucien glanced toward Eris.

“I didn’t—”

“I know,” Eris said, jaw set all the same. “That dead bastard guessing my plan is my fault—I should have planned for that inevitably.”

Lucien opened his mouth to offer to step down but the scathing look Eris shot him silenced him. Eris had always been good at reading his mind.

“What’s done is done,” Eris said, his disappointment clear. “I won’t be wasting any more time on what might have been. The gods have spoken.”

“Well I—”

“Princeps,” a servant bowed low, stopping Lucien in the hall leading out of the Curia, eyes on the marble below them.

“Speak.”

“Word has come from your estate in Eturia. Two spies have infiltrated and are being held while we await your instruction.”

Already? “Spies? From where?”

The slave winced, olive skin already burned in the sun. They spoke like a Roman, though their accent betrayed them. They sounded suspiciously Dacian, though he couldn’t be sure and truthfully, he cared very little.

The servant shrugged beneath their brown tunic. “They are difficult to understand.”

Eris and Jurian cut a glance to Lucien. “Germanic?”

“Possibly.”

“Bring them to Rome,” Lucien ordered. “I’ll question them myself.”

They waited for the servant to depart before they began speaking among themselves. “A barbarian this close to the city?” Jurian asked with amusement as they stepped out into the bright sunlight of the late morning. Light reflected from the marble, blinding Lucien temporarily before his eyes adjusted. Bustling crowds jostled for space, their conversations blurring into a murmuring jumble of words.

Slipping past a group arguing passionately about rising olive prices, Lucien continued his conversation with Eris and Jurian.

“Do you really think two germanic barbarians came all this way to rob you?” Jurian questioned, eyes sliding upward toward the markets, built not with marble like the rest of the forum, but with brick directly against the hillside. Lucien could smell cooking meat, mingled alongside sweat, leather, and citrus.

“No,” Lucien replied. “Scouts would have been swept up in Gaul before they ever made it this far.” If he hadn’t just been made Emperor, Lucien would have gone himself just to keep things quiet. He didn’t need word spreading and causing a panic–though, if he was clever, Lucien saw a future in which he could deploy troops back to the Rhine and take more territory.

“Assassins, then,” Eris said with a little too much amusement. “You’re better off cutting their throats before they ever reach Rome.”

“I’ll make them part of the games,” Lucien declared, running his fingers over a large pillar depicting the accomplishments of an emperor long before him. He needed one of his own—a project for later, he decided privately. “If they’re assassins, the lions can have them, and if they’re barbarians, the gladiators can show them what happens when one attempts to challenge Rome.”

It was settled, leaving Lucien to make the rounds. His praetorian guards trailed just behind, their mere presence a warning to anyone who thought to get too close. Those, Lucien kept a weapon on his person as well, paranoid of every face he didn’t recognize—and many he did.

He didn’t sleep well that night—nor the next one. Everything was happening quickly. Decisions needed to be made and a legacy built. Lucien, like so many before him, was interested in expansion to add to the glory of Rome and prove to the Romans he was worthy of his title and position.

Lucien commissioned works of art—and not just of himself—and began his preparations for the games. Animals needed to be brought in which took time—of which he had very little. Lucien had nearly forgotten about the intruders until Eris came around Palatine Hill, strolling into the palace that had once belonged to Beron—and every emperor that had come before him—as though it belonged to him.

“Your captives have arrived,” Eris said, a grin on his face.

“What’s so funny?”

“Apparently your captives have been giving your soldiers a difficult time.”

“And that amuses you?”

“Come with me,” Eris said, beckoning Lucien to leave his place at his desk. “You’ll see why.”

And indeed, Lucien did find the source of Eris’s amusement when they descended into the bowels of Mamertine. It reeked of human suffering and filth and was so dark and damp that despite the heat of the day, Lucien felt cold.

Eris ordered for the door of the cell to be opened, revealing not two barbaric soldiers itching for blood…but two slim, dirty women peering back at him from the gloom. Lucien turned to look at Eris, exasperated.

“Is this supposed to be funny? You wrangled two prostitutes—”

The blonde woman began snarling words in a language he didn’t recognize, though the tone conveyed just what she thought about what he’d said.

The brunette, however, spoke Latin. “We’re not prostitutes,” she said earnestly, leaning forward in an attempt to really look at him. “This is a misunderstanding.”

Eris held his hands up, iron ring glinting in the firelight. “I had no part in this.”

“You were caught trespassing,” Lucien informed them, stepping a few feet into the tiny cell. “How do you account for that?”

The women exchanged a glance and Lucien knew, without needing to read their thoughts, that they were about to tell him a lie. What would they invent, he wondered?

“We’re from Britannia,” she said—and Lucien believed that, given the fairness of her skin and the blonde hair of the woman beside her. “We were overtaken on the road and forced to continue alone on foot. When we saw your estate, we hoped someone might welcome us inside—”

“And instead we’ve been imprisoned, assaulted, and accused of prostitution!” the blonde beside her bit out. Their accents were unusual, tinged with an inflection he didn’t recognize. They weren’t even the same accent—the blonde’s words were sharper while the brunette spoke with a rolling drawl he found oddly charming.

“Prove you’re not a prostitute,” Eris said, clearly willing to provoke an angry woman. Lucien didn’t move, still curious as the blonde offered him a deceptively sweet smile.

“Come and see for yourself,” she offered. Lucien wouldn’t have dared—he knew an armed opponent when he saw one. Eris should have known better and yet he crossed the stone floor and reached out a hand, perhaps curious about the mass of blonde hair tangled around her face.

“Arina—” the brunette tried to stop her friend, but the woman bit Eris hard enough that Lucien saw the blood before he heard Eris’s furious curse.

With bloody lips, the blonde looked up at him and said, “Biting is bad for business.”

Eris turned to look at Lucien, mouth agape.

“This whole thing is merely a misunderstanding,” the brunette told him. “If you let us go—”

“Where would I release you to? A husband? Father?” Lucien questioned.

Both women exchanged a glance. “I…”

Liars, the pair of them. He could leave them, of course—it was tempting to wash his hands of the entire thing and return back to a world filled with daylight. The light from the hall shifted, through firelight onto the brunettes features and Lucien found himself unable to do so. She was…well.

She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, even with dirt staining her features. And she was looking at him with soft pleading, brown eyes and Lucien simply could not bring himself to treat her cruelly.

“You’ll stay in my household as guests,” he declared as Eris swore softly beside him, shaking out his injured hand. “Just until we can find a relative to place you with.”

The blonde muttered something to the brunette in a third language—not the sharp constants from before, but something harsher and angrier sounding.

“Um,” the brunette began, gaze darting between the three of them. “Will we stay here in Rome, or can we—”

“In Rome,” Lucien said, nose burning from the stench of suffering. “That is where you were headed, is it not?”

The brunette didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

“Then there should be no problems.”

Whatever these women had been doing would reveal itself in time, and until then, keeping them in his household allowed Lucien to keep watch on them. He swore that was all he cared about—the safety of his city and the security of his position. But as the brunette stood, in clothes so strange he couldn’t figure them out at all, he knew this was more than pragmatism. She was beautiful and Lucien was still a man.

Eris, too, was taking in their clothing, his nose wrinkled with distaste.

“Be careful of your next words,” the blonde warned, eyes wide.

Eris scowled. “Be careful of yours. Is this how men are treated in your home?”

“Worse,” she replied with a savage, bloodstained smile.

“You look like a whore,” Eris snapped, clearly still pissed. Lucien’s head whipped around, a warning to silence himself on his tongue. The brunette clearly had the same thought because she gripped her friend’s wrist and whispered a clear, harsh warning in the ugly native tongue of hers. She was too beautiful to speak such a barbaric language, and more beautiful still when she turned to him and said, in Latin, “We’re so grateful for your hospitality.”

“Your name?” Lucien heard himself asking. Tell me the truth.

“Elain,” she said, the word easily the most beautiful thing that had come from her lips since they’d met. “And this is Arina.”

Eris’ scowl deepened. “The soldiers. Did they touch you?”

Elain and Arina exchanged another glance, a yes if Lucien had ever seen it. It was unlike his brother to care and yet it was clear Eris wanted an answer, and intended to exact punishment on those who he felt had done wrong.

“And if they did?” Arina demanded, crossing her arms over a ripped, white shift that made Lucien uncomfortable to look at.

Eris nodded, pointing a finger in her face. “You will point them out to me—”

“That’s not…we’re unharmed,” Elain hastened to assure him, but Lucien found himself agreeing with Eris. If they’d been touched unwillingly, maybe he might like to see some justice done, too.

“You will tell him which of my soldiers harmed you,” Lucien said, his word law. Did they know? Or had they departed believing Beron was Emperor. He gestured toward his brother and added,

“This is Consul Eris,” Lucien began, strangely pleased to tell Elain who he was, “and I am Lucien, Caesar Imperator Augustus.”

Elain and Arina both inclined their heads, knees bending strangely. Were they bowing? That was wholly unnecessary though…Lucien allowed it. He couldn’t explain himself, certainly not to his brother who was watching…but he liked the sight of Elain sinking to her knees before him. He beckoned for them to follow him out, gulping down fresh air the moment they were back outside.

“See them to my home,” he told his brother, wanting a minute to himself. “Ensure they’re made comfortable.”

Eris nodded. “You’ll regret this.”

Lucien smiled.

He had no doubts about that.

#elucien #pro elucien #REMEMBER THIS IS LIKE THE REIGN OF FICS OK???

129 notes · View notes

wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 7 months

Note

for a prompt? 3 words sugar mommy agatha... perhaps ✨️feelings✨️ are involved fluff? smut? idk (sorry this is vague)

Please Mommy?

Sugar Mommy!Agatha Harkness x Sugar baby!fem!reader

Summary: You're such a good girl for Mommy and good girls get rewarded.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, R calls A Mommy, A calls R Princess, Fingering, strap use, degradation, Agatha teasing you while on the phone, oral fixation

Word count: 1.4K

A/N: This honestly felt so sweet to write~

Your eyes sparkled as you looked through the window of a shop on Broadway. You were looking at all the pretty rings they had you’d always loved to accessories with rings adorning your fingers. Your tongue poked out ever so slightly as you smiled looking over the different rings, they had a whole line of Disney princess inspired rings and before you could even ask you felt an arm around your waist, a small squeak coming out of you as she pulled you against her.

“See something you like princess?” You smiled up at her, she loved seeing you so happy. The two of you had started this relationship close to a year ago and at first you were hesitant to ask for things. Soon enough though you became more comfortable with outright asking and Agatha had no problem saying no if she felt you didn’t deserve something.

Today the two of you were out because Agatha had been away and you had been so well behaved in her absence that she promised she’d treat you to a special day.

“They just have so many pretty rings Mommy!” You turned your attention back to the rings glistening in the sunlight. You looked over all of them and then one caught your eye, it was a ring that wasn’t closed a round diamond on one side and the other was a tetragonal. “Ooo Mommy that one!” You called out excitedly. She followed your finger and smiled.

“Okay princess let’s go inside and get you one your size.” You did a little wiggle in happiness at the prospect of getting a new ring.

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

After many hours of being out in Time Square you and Agatha arrived back at her home, well it was slowly becoming yours as well little bits of you littered everywhere from throw blankets, to clothes, to your Nintendo switch.

Before Agatha could even stop you you were wiggling out of your ‘outside’ clothes and into one of her shirts that looked more like a night gown on you as you curled yourself up on the couch ready to recharge your social battery.

“Did you have a good time princess?” Agatha asked taking care of the mess you left behind knowing now wasn’t the time to reprimand.

“Yes Mommy thank you for everything.” You responded with a yawn.

“I think it’s nap time darling. Close your pretty eyes now Mommy will wake you up soon.” You gave a sleepy smile as you closed your eyes.

You sat up, rubbing your eyes calling out, “Mommy?” You got no response as you looked around. Grumbling you got up bringing your blanket with you. As you headed upstairs towards her office you could hear her talking on the phone with someone which explains why she didn’t answer. You slip your way into her office and she smiles at you gesturing you to come over.

You happily make your way over leaving your blanket on the couch she has in her office to sit her her lap. You happily sit there playing with a fidget she keeps on her desk for you as she carries on her conversation until you feel her hand move onto your thigh. You look back, but she moves her hand to face you back forward, moving her hand back to your thigh. She rubs and squeezes soon enough pushing her fingers against your clothed and very wet cunt. You have to bite your lip to keep quiet.

She lets her fingers slip past your panties, running through your slick folds, kissing your shoulder blade gently as she pushes two fingers into you making you gasp and cover your mouth. You didn’t want her to stop and if you got too loud where the person she was talking with could hear you she’d leave you like that for the rest of the night.

You slowly moved your hips against her fingers which she so graciously allowed you. Small whimpers and mewls falling past your lips as she carried on teasing you as she continued her conversation and you could only hope it would end soon. If you didn’t ask for permission you weren’t allowed to cum. You could feel it building up so nicely and that’s when you heard it,

“Alright this was a productive call. We’ll carry out with it on Monday Wanda. I’ll see you then. Buh-bye dear.” Before you could think Agatha stood up, bending you over her desk, fingers pumping in and out of you roughly.

“Ahhh Mommy!” You squeaked out.

“Such a little slut, you were already so wet for Mommy. Did it turn you on that I was on the phone? That she might hear you?” Agatha teased, gripping her other hand into your hair, pulling roughly as you let out a loud moan.

“Yes Mommy! Yes! I was good though! She didn’t hear me!”

“That’s right princess she didn’t which means you get to cum.” Suddenly her fingers left you, you whined at the loss. “Shhh don’t worry Mommy is going to fill you up.” You perked up, looking behind you to see her pulling out your favorite thick purple strap that you had picked out.

“Mmmm please Mommy!” You wiggled your butt making her chuckle.

“Such good manners princess, but Mommy was already giving it to you. No need to beg more.” She spoke as she lined herself up, slowly pushing into you until she bottomed out and you you feel the fake cock fill you up completely as you moaned out. “You can cum whenever you want princess you’ve been so good all day for Mommy.”

“Thank you Mommy! Thank you!” You cried out as she pounded into you until you’re tightening and cumming around her strap. You fall back against the desk. Slowly she pulls out and this time you groan at the loss as you clench around nothing.

“Shhh Mommy’s got you Princess. Let’s go get you a nice bubble bath.” You nod dumbly as she helps get you up and cling onto her as she gets the bath ready. Once you two are in the bath you search for her hand until you find it. She already knows what you’re looking for as she holds out her pointer and middle finger. You let your lips wrap around them, sucking gently.

“You are my precious little princess, you know that?” She asks softly and you nod, leaning back against her, closing your eyes.

“I love you Mommy...” You mumble hesitantly. Feelings weren’t supposed to be a thing and yet here you were saying the ultimate phrase. You couldn’t help it, it was the truth and Mommy always encourages you to tell the truth. She was quiet for a moment. She tapped lightly on your tongue, her signal for you to release and as much as you didn’t want to you did. You let her fingers go and she tilted your face back towards her as she pulled you into a soft kiss.

“Say that again.” She husked against your lips, kissing you again and again until you let the words slip out once more. This time against her lips,

“I love you Mommy.”

“Again.”

“I love you.” The kisses didn’t stop, you were pulled into her, completely pressed against her,

“Again.”

“I love you Agatha.” You heard and felt her moan into the kiss at the use of her name. You rarely used it anymore, but now felt like a moment to use it.

“I love you Princess. I love you Y/N.” She pulled away and looked you in the eyes. “I know we said no feelings, but how could I not fall for a precious little thing like you Princess?” Agatha smiled and kissed you again.

“I couldn’t ask for a better Mommy...you’re so good to me all of the time even when I’m a brat. How could I not love someone as loving and caring as you Mommy?”

The two of you spent a little extra time in the tub that night. The water going cold before you two finally stepped out. Agatha got you put into a new pair of panties and a different shirt of hers that you proudly wore. You loved being hers and she loved knowing you were hers. The two of you cuddled up under the sheets as you sucked on her fingers and she gave you kisses on top of your head until both of you fell asleep.

#ley speaks #ley writes #ley requests #agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #agatha harkness #sugar Mommy!Agatha #sugar baby!Reader

315 notes · View notes

thetriumphantpanda · 1 year

Text

Let Me Love You | Javier Peña (One Shot)

Javier Peña has been the bane of your existence since you arrived to work for the ambassador. When you find yourself at a loose end following an altercation in the street on your way home, Javier is the only person you could turn to which turns your evening into something you'd never dreamed of.

Pairing | Javier Peña x Reader

Warnings | Smut, oral sex (F receiving), Protected PIV sex, descriptions of physical assault/robber, alcohol consumption but nothing else I can think of.

Word Count | 5.2K

Authors Note | Been holed up in bed this weekend rewatching Narcos and this is the result. I hope you like it! Like, Reblogs and feedback are my lifeblood so please let me know if you enjoy this! Just a warning that I am very high on painkillers and this hasn't been proofread so apologies for any spelling mistakes.

Javier Peña wasn’t used to rejection. Whether he liked it or not he was the epitome of a ladies’ man and had no issue in getting whichever woman he wanted that night into his bed. That was until you came bounding into his life with your apathy and disdain towards him. What he should have done was leave well alone but if there was anything Javier enjoyed it was a challenge and you had become a very personal one to him.

You’d been an assistant to Ambassador Noonan for a few months now – everyone back at home in El Paso had been so proud when you’d beaten everyone else for the role in Colombia, it’s the only time you’d ever seen your father cry. His little girl, all grown up and off to play with the big guns at an overseas posting.

Colombia had been a culture shock, there was no getting around it. It was busy and loud and all sorts of colourful that you weren’t used to but in the best way possible. When you phoned home each Sunday to catch up with your parents you could feel the desire to go back to your old life fading a little.

The only aspect of your job you weren’t fond of was Javier Peña. Almost immediately one arrival he’d made it his personal endeavor to conquer you as another office romance. Almost all the office girls had filled you in on his reputation as the DEA’s resident womanizer and you’d done everything possible in your power to avoid becoming just another notch on his bedpost.

He hadn’t made it easy for you though. It didn’t help that he was just your type. Tall and handsome, with dark brown eyes that pierced right through your own whenever he spoke to you. You’d learnt from the girl who sat on the desk next to you that he was also from Texas and the rumor was that before coming to Colombia he’d jilted his soon-to-be wife on their wedding day.

“You know he’s got eyes for you, right?” She’d said one afternoon a few weeks ago when Javier had tried to get you to shift the ambassador’s entire schedule around so he could present new intelligence.

“I don’t care, miel,” Was what you’d replied, using your limited Spanish to call her honey, the pet name you’d fallen on for each other in the short months you’d worked together, “I worked too hard to get here to become just another of the girls Agent Peña has slept with.”

“Girl, take it from someone who knows, you would not be disappointed.”

You’d waved her off before gathering a pile of files for the ambassador, using the need to drop them off as an excuse to end the conversation. When you arrived back at your desk, Javier’s partner Steve was waiting at your desk.

“Agent Murphy, what a nice surprise.” You weren’t lying, you much preferred to deal with Steve when it came to the pair of agents, he was married and you appreciated that unlike his partner, he didn’t openly gawk at you when trying to hold a conversation.

“Javier sends his apologies, he had to head out to follow a lead…” You shrugged your shoulders at him, “Anyway, he asked me to bring this down for the ambassador and said if you could make sure it lands up on the desk before the end of the day, he would be most appreciative.”

“You know, if you’d come down and asked without mentioning him, I would have done that, but you can tell him the ambassador is very busy and it’ll wait until tomorrow.”

“Oh come on,” Steve groaned, “If not for Javi then for me? He’s gonna chew my ass if I don’t get this sorted.”

“You can tell him if he’s got an issue he can take it up with me personally, surely that’ll get you off the chopping block?”

“I hope you know what you’re getting yourself in for.” Was all Steve replied with before throwing the file down on your desk and walking away.

***

It was late. Later than you’d normally stay at work, but the ambassador had asked you for some financial reports which were proving trickier to put together than you had anticipated. Everyone else had left a while ago, the only sounds in the office were your pen scrawling across paper trying to make the numbers make sense and the far-off sounds of the cleaners in the hallway. That was until you could hear shoes on the flooring coming towards you.

“Querida, what are you doing here this late?”

“I could ask the same of you Agent Peña.” You replied, not looking up from the scrawls of numbers in front of you.

“I just came back after following up on something and Steve said you wouldn’t give the ambassador our intelligence today?”

“Ambassador Noonan is a busy woman, what do you want me to say?” You finally put your pen down to look at him, stood in front of your desk in his stupidly handsome leather jacket with his stupidly handsome hands on his stupidly handsome hips.

“Do you know how important that information is to catching Escobar?” He asked, his eyes boring holes into your own.

“And do you know how many people stand at my desk and insist their files are the most important thing she’s ever going to read in her life?” You countered.

You watched intently as he used one of his hands to pinch the bridge of his nose, you could tell he was thinking about what to say next.

“Listen, I know we’ve not always seen eye to eye,” He began, which earned a scoff from you as if to say no shit, “But this was really important.”

“Like I said to Steve, she’ll get it first thing in the morning.”

Without saying a word back to you, Javier turned on his heels and walked away to leave, before stopping to turn back and say two words you don’t think he’d ever said to you.

“Thank you.

***

Weeks had passed without incident. Javier and Steve hadn’t been around all that much – as far as you’d managed to find out they’d been in and out chasing up leads on Escobar out in the field. You hadn’t even bumped into Javier in the apartment building you all lived at. The only sign of life being the sounds of him and whatever woman he’d bought back that night. It was one of the only downsides to your living arrangement – living right next door to him and having to come up with inventive ways to get to sleep when all you could hear was another woman calling his name.

You’d worked late again. It was a Friday night and everyone else had left a while ago to the bar just around the corner from the embassy. Some of the girls had begged you to go with them but you wanted to get ahead of the ambassador’s schedule for next week, opting instead to spend your Friday pouring over briefing documents and getting everything in a row.

It probably hadn’t been wise considering there had been an increase in cartel violence on the streets – but you knew that the narcos were smarter than to try and attack the American embassy or anyone who they watched entering or leaving. As the clock struck nine you decided to call it a night. There was a long bath and a glass of wine with your name written all over it at home. Picking up your handbag and swapping your office heels for something more comfortable to walk home in you started making your way to your apartment.

You weren’t exactly sure when you became aware that someone was following behind you. You’d noticed the sound of feet on the pavement, but it was a Friday night so that wasn’t all that unusual. Something in your subconscious had told you to speed up a little and you’re sure it was when the footsteps behind you did the same that you began to panic a little. You were only a few blocks away from the apartment building. All you needed to do was make it there and you’d be safe.

The mysterious person behind you had other ideas. You were a street away from the building when you felt a tug on the strap of your handbag. It dragged you backwards and you came face to face with a man. He was much taller than you and had a heavy build. Your brain immediately deciding that fighting him off was impossible.

You tried in vain to drag your handbag from his hands, but his strength was obviously greater. You gave a good fight but suddenly felt a sharp sting across your face. Whoever this man was he’d just hit you. Hard. You could already feel the telltale slither of blood falling from your nose and the impact had caused a cut to your lip as well. The force was enough to make you let go of your handbag and you watched miserably as the man ran back off down the street with it.

You wished him luck – there was a tiny bit of money and the keys to your apartment door but not much else. You tried as hard as you could to stifle a laugh at the situation – a bloody nose, cut lip and judging by the ache behind your eye, a black eye, for a few pesos and a useless door key.

Thankful that you were just a few minutes’ walk away from your apartment you arrived, ready to down a glass of wine until your headache dulled before realise whoever that piece of shit was, he had your keys.

You groaned out loud, leaning yourself against your apartment door. Connie and Steve lived upstairs but it was late, and you had no intention of waking their new baby and invading their apartment. There was only one option. Javier.

You prayed to whichever God out there would listen as you knocked on his front door, hoping that had chosen the comfort of his own home and opposed to a brothel for the night. If he did, it was a lovely night on the floor for you.

It took a moment, but you could hear shuffling at the other side of the door before it swung open to reveal Javier, top buttons undone and without a belt on his jeans.

“Jesus Christ, Querida,” He exclaimed, taking in the sight of your face, bloody and already bruising, “What on earth happened?!”

“Some guy tried to take my bag as I was walking home, when I tried to fight it back from him he hit me,” You explained, “Stupid of me really considering he was at least twice my size.”

Javier ushered you inside, closing the door behind you before motioning for you to sit on his couch, “Was there anything important in there?”

“No, I don’t take papers home with me, just a few hundred pesos and my apartment keys.”

“Okay, that’s good, we can get you a new set keys in the morning,” He spoke over his shoulder as he rooted around in his freezer, “Does it hurt?”

“Are you seriously asking if my bloody nose, split lip and potential black eye hurts?” You shot back, deadpan as he wrapped some ice in a towel, “Yes, it fucking hurts Javier.”

“Alright, I’m sorry, just take this and rest it where it hurts.” He spoke, handing over the ice before heading back to the kitchen.

He returned with two glasses filled with amber liquid which you could only assume was whiskey and popped two pills next to the glass he set down for you, “You know you’re not supposed to take pills with alcohol right?” “Trust me, I’ve been doing it most of my life and I seem to be alright,” Was his response as he sat down in the chair away from you, “Both will help take the sting away, I promise.”

At this point you would do anything to get rid of the dull ache behind your eyeballs so, putting down the ice, you popped both pills on your tongue at the same time before draining the whole glass of whiskey in on go. When you opened your eyes, Javier’s were trained on you, staring.

“What?” You challenged, picking up the ice again, “Never seen a girl shoot a whiskey before?”

Without a word, he stood from the chair and took a few wide strides before he was on his knees on the floor in front of you.

“Let me see.” He all but demanded, moving your hand that was holding the ice to your swollen lip.

Once the ice had moved, he used his hand to lean your chin up so he could see your injuries better. Your breath and caught in your throat at him being so close to you. His eyes were pouring over your face as he turned you into the light to get a better look at each injury.

“Whilst he did a number on you, hermosa,” Javier spoke, “I don’t think you need stitches.”

“Thank the lord for small mercies.” You replied as Javier walked to the kitchen and retrieved the bottle of whiskey, stopping to pour a shot into your glass before doing the same to his own glass.

“Do you want to have a shower?” He asked, “You can get yourself clean and I’ll see if I’ve got some clothes you can wear for tonight.”

You gave a small smile, suddenly feeling quite helpless about the whole situation, “That would be nice Javi, thank you.”

***

The warm water of Javier’s shower did wonders for loosening the joints you hadn’t realized you’d tensed so much. Watching the blood from your nose wash down the drain was concerning, and you were sure the headache you had was getting worse, but you hoped the pills and the alcohol would do their job soon enough.

Once you were wrapped in a towel and stood in Javier’s bedroom, you couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself. He’d lain out a t-shirt and a pair of his boxers, the only clothes you think he could find that would fit you. Once you were dry and had slipped on the clothes you took a moment to gather yourself.

You wondered how many other women had been in this room, wearing his clothes. Granted, you doubted that very few of them, if any, had received a slap round the face in exchange for their bag, but there was a telltale pang of jealously that this felt like something he would do for every girl fresh out of his shower.

“Hermosa…” Javi dragged out of his mouth when he caught site of you leaving his room, before couching a little to cover up the obvious slip of the tongue he hadn’t meant to let leave his thoughts.

“Thank you, I feel much better now.” You replied, taking up your old seat on his couch.

“You shouldn’t be walking back this late on your own by the way.” He offered.

“It’s never been an issue before,” You spoke softly, taking a sip of your drink, “I know things are getting more dangerous, but it really is only a few streets, and I don’t drive.”

“Whenever you need to work late you tell me,” He ordered, “I’m usually always around and I’ll drive you back.” “I don’t need you to be my chauffer, Javier.” You snorted.

“I’m not asking to be your chauffer, querida, I’m asking to be your friend.”

An involuntary snort left your mouth when Javier spoke, “You don’t want to be my friend Javier, you hate me.” Was your response.

A sigh left Javier’s lips, “I don’t hate you querida,” His voice was low, “Quite the opposite actually.”

“What the hell are you talking about Peña?”

Another ragged sigh left his mouth as he pinched the bridge of his nose as if to collect his thoughts, “I like you, okay?” He looked you dead in the eyes, “I Like you very much.”

“But you don’t know anything about me, Javier?!” You exclaimed, not understanding how the man in front of you, who had been the cause of most of your problems since coming to Colombia, was admitting he liked you. This had to be a joke.

“I know enough to make my judgement, hermosa,” He replied, “I know that you’re one of the only women at the embassy who won’t stand for my shit, I know that you’re fiercely intelligent and that you’d do anything in your power to help those you care about, I know you’re from Texas and that tequila is what you like to drink on a Friday when you want to forget about your week. I know you call your family every Sunday and it’s the part of your week you look forward to the most because that’s what you always talk to the girls in the office about when Steve and I come for Monday briefing.”

As he trails off you sit on his couch dumbfounded. Javier Peña liked you. Maybe every time he’d tried to coax you into leaving the bar with him hadn’t been for just another conquest. Maybe when the girls in the office had told you he was flirting with you, it was because he was and not because he wanted you to slip his files to the top of the ambassador’s pile.

“Listen querida,” Javier spoke again, moving so you were caught in his eyeline, “I might not know everything about you, like your favourite colour or how you like your eggs cooked in the morning, but I know that you are the only woman in this godforsaken place that makes me feel anything.”

“It’s orange.” You spoke without thinking, looking him dead in the eye.

“Hmm?” “My favourite colour, it’s orange.”

Javier chuckled, pushing himself up from his seat to sit next to you on the couch, placing a hand lightly on your thigh, “Mine is blue.” He offered, causing you both to laugh at each other.

“Jesus Christ Javi, just kiss me already.”

He didn’t need telling twice. Aware of the injuries to your face, he used his hands to cup either side of your face before pressing a soft kiss to your lips, trying to avoid putting too much pressure on the swelling. He needn’t have worried because almost immediately you snaked a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him in closer, allowing your mouth to open slightly to him.

Javi immediately accepted the invitation of your open mouth, tentatively using it to tangle his tongue with your own as he deepened the kiss. The faint taste of blood in your mouth had him pulling back. You could tell he was searching your face for any signs of discomfort.

“Javi it’s fine, it’s a split lip, just…” You trailed off, pulling him back closer to you, “Don’t stop.”

Instead of latching himself back onto your mouth, Javier used his bodyweight to push you back so you were led on his couch with his body covering yours above you. One of his hands was placed next to your head to keep him held up above you, the other was resting at your hip as he looked down at you.

“You look lovely like this querida,” He breathed, “Trapped underneath me all breathless and wanting.”

“It’s not nice to tease, Peña.” Came your response as you bucked your hips towards him slightly, letting him know you needed him.

He smirked down at you before taking the assault of his mouth to your neck. He pressed open mouth kisses down your throat and along your collarbone as his hand slowly worked the hem of your shirt free from where you’d tucked it into your skirt before tracing his fingers up inside the material to rest just under the band of your bra.

A moan ripped from your throat as Javier bit down on the skin behind your ear, sucking gently but enough that you knew there would be a mark there in the morning.

“You like that huh?” He whispered into your ear, “You like it when I mark you?”

“Mmm Hmm.” Was all you could manage to get out as Javier continued to trail his mouth over your exposed skin.

“Words, Hermosa,” He stopped, lifting his head to look you in the eye, “Use them.”

“Ye…yes, I like it whe… when you mark me, Javi.” Came your strangled reply.

“I bet you do,” He rasped into your ear, “I bet if I slipped my hand into your panties you’d be wet for me, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes!” You called out without even thinking, “Oh my god Javi please take my clothes off and touch me.”

You almost expected Javier to tease you more at this point but instead, he pushed himself back so he was knelt between your thighs before making quick work on situating himself on the floor on his knees.

“Sit up for me hermosa.” He spoke, helping you to move yourself so your ass was only just hanging onto the edge of the couch with your back up against it.

Almost on instinct your spread your legs wide for him, watching as he bunched your skirt up against your waist, revealing the light grey cotton panties you’d thrown on this morning. If you’d known then that by the evening you’d be baring them to Javier’s face, you’d have picked something sexier.

You looked down at him between your thighs and saw his chest was heaving slightly with his heavy breathing, “What’s this?” He asked, before brushing his fingers over the material that was covering your core, “You’re soaking already, this little wet patch is giving you away.”

A light moan left your lips as his fingers moved from the wet patch at your entrance all the way up to where he could touch your clit. His touch was feather light but just like anything he’d done in the past few minutes it was lighting you on fire.

“I’m going to eat your pussy, darling girl,” He spoke, hooking his fingers around your panties to drag them off, “Is that okay?”

“Only if you’re good at it, Peña.” Came your response.

If he wanted to respond to your smart mouth he thought better of it. Pulling your panties all the way off and discarding them somewhere on the floor behind him before bringing his face as close to your pussy as he could get without touching you. He stayed like that for what felt like hours as he watched your wiggle your hips and move about to try and get his mouth to touch you.

When he finally did put his mouth to you it was like the universe exploded. He licked a single stripe from your entrance to your clit, using the tip of his tongue to tease the bundle of nerves before pulling away. A petulant whine left your mouth but Javier had waited a long time for this so it wasn’t long until his tongue was back to teasing your clit. He switched between light flicks of his tongue to enveloping your clit between his lips to suck on it. Within no time your hands were tangled in his hair and you were grinding your pussy into his mouth, begging him to make you cum.

“You want to cum, hermosa?” He asked, tearing himself away from your pussy, “You going to make a mess of my face?”

“Oh god,” You moaned, “Javi please, it’s too much.” You looked down and watched as he smirked at you before latching his mouth back around your clit. You’d never felt like this with anyone before, you could certainly understand why most of the girls in the office were obsessed with this man if this is what he could do to them in mere minutes. A flash of jealousy seeped into you which you tried to push to the back of your mind.

Suddenly you felt him push two fingers inside your aching pussy. Your felt him expertly curl them upwards, hitting a spot inside you that you weren’t aware could feel so good. Your hips began moving to meet the thrusts of his fingers inside you as his tongue continued teasing your clit. You could feel the telltale tightening in your abdomen and just silently prayed to god that he didn’t stop.

“I can feel you getting tighter around my fingers hermosa,” Javi groaned from your pussy, “I want you to cum for me.”

His words mixed with the assault of his fingers and mouth were all you needed at that point. Your thighs tightened around his face as you cried out his name whilst his mouth worked your through your orgasm.

Once Javi had worked you through most of the aftershocks of your orgasm he sat back on his heels to look at you.

“I don’t think anyone has made me cum like that,” You spoke breathlessly, “That was insane.” You took the time to look at Javi, from his place sat on the floor.

His mouth was glistening with your slick and the further you let your eye roam the better the view got, until your eyes settled on the prominent bulge at the front of his jeans.

“Looks like you’ve got a little problem there, agent.” You teased, pointing to him.

“Little?” He asked, raising an eyebrow, “You’re going to regret that.”

He stood, making light work of removing the belt that held his jeans up, “Turn around and lift your skirt up.” He ordered.

You did as you were told, draping the upper half of your body over the back of the couch, widening your legs so Javier had a view of your ass and your exposed pussy. You looked over your shoulder to find him fishing a condom out of his wallet before shedding himself of his jeans and boxers. Little had been as far from correct as you could have been. His cock was hard and you watched intently as he rolled the condom on swiftly. Your mouth watered at the thought of having him heavy in your mouth.

“Enjoying the show?” He asked as he moved behind you, letting two of his fingers dip into your pussy, “So wet for me hermosa, you ready for my cock?”

“Yes Javi,” You breathed, moving yourself back in an attempt to get him closer to you, “I want you to fill me up.”

“Whatever you want, darling girl.” Was his answer.

You felt him scoot up behind you, taking your hip in one of his hands, using the other to guide the head of his cock to your wet slit. The friction caused when he started pushing inside of your was delightful. He was big, the biggest you think you’d ever taken but the feeling of fullness was overwhelming.

You could hear soft grunts from behind you as he pushed himself all the way into you, stilling once he had bottomed out, “You okay?” He asked softly into your ear as the hand at your hip squeezed lightly.

“Fuck Javi,” You moaned, “You’re so fucking big, it feels so good.” “Yeah?” He asked, a slight chuckle to his voice, “You like my cock inside of you?”

“Uh huh.” You managed to drag out from your mouth as he slowly pulled out and thrust back into you.

The pace was slow to begin with, giving you a chance to get used to his size within you and half because Javier knew if he started his usual bruising pace with you, he would be done in mere seconds. God you felt good around him.

“Javi please,” You begged, “I need you to move.”

“You want me to fuck you?” He asked, pulling his cock almost all the way out of your pussy before stilling, “Needy little thing, begging for my cock like that.”

He wasn’t one to deny a lady what she wanted though so he set about giving you exactly what you wanted. Soon enough he was pounding into your pussy from behind. The strangled cries that he pulled from your lips were enough to let him know you were enjoying yourself – pair those sounds with the way your pussy was clenching around him every time he pushed himself into you and he was ready to come undone.

“You’re such a good girl for me aren’t you?” He cooed into your ear as the hand that wasn’t keeping him upright tangled in your hair, “Put your hand on your pussy baby,” He ordered, “Make yourself cum on my cock.”

You did as you were told, snaking one of your hands underneath your body. You used one of your fingers to circle your clit, the wetness dripping from your entrance enough to slicken you.

“That it’s baby,” Javier spoke in encouragement, “I can feel that pussy clenching around me, you going to cum for me?”

The entire thing was overwhelming – the filth falling from Javi’s mouth, the feeling of his cock filling you up and your fingers on your clit pushing you to the edge. Your second orgasm creeped up on you, falling over you in waves as you cried Javi’s name.

“God fucking dammit,” Came a voice from behind you, “Baby I’m going to cum.”

Words had failed you, but you moaned in approval, doing what you could to push your pussy further into Javi’s hips. A few more thrusts and he stilled within you, letting out a raged moan as his hand squeezed hard enough to bruise at your hips.

Javier stayed still for as long as he could, letting the two of you catch your breath for a moment before he pulled himself out of you. Without his body to keep you upright you collapsed into the couch, doing what you could to pull your skirt down so you weren’t bared to the room anymore.

Javi padded back into the room after disposing of the condom in his bathroom. He sat down on the couch, lifting your legs to rest against his thighs. He was still dressed in his shirt and had thrown on a fresh pair of boxers on his way back to you.

“Javi…” You spoke, drawing his attention to you.

“What is it, hermosa?”

“I think we skipped right past friends, don’t you?”

A laugh erupted from his mouth. You think it’s the first time you’ve seen him properly laugh and you like it.

“You mean your friends don’t eat your pussy and fuck you like that?” He asked, raising his eyebrows at you.

You let your hand swat his arm, “You know, I can’t say they do.”

His eyes darkened slightly as they looked at you, “Does that mean they don’t wrap you up in bed, let you sleep for a few hours and then wake you up to bury themselves inside of you?”

Your eyes widened at the insinuation. You’d assumed you’d spend the night sleeping on his couch until you could slip out and get your keys sorted.

“You want me to sleep in your bed?” “Hermosa….” He breathed, “We won’t be sleeping much at all.”

#javier pena #narcos #Pedro pascal #Javier pena smut #Javier pena fic #javier pena x reader #javier pena x female reader #javier pena x f!reader #javier pena x you #javier pena fanfiction #Javier pena Pedro pascal

678 notes · View notes

thefallennightmare · 10 months

Text

Just Pretend-fourteen

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader

Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut, star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse.

Summary: “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.” A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.

Authors Note: Have fun 🪽🍡

Collaborating With: @thescarlettvvitch(better give her all the love as well)

Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @ozwriterchick @waake-meee-up @notingridslurkaccount @niicoleleigh @sammyjoeee @xxrainstorm @dominuslunae @notmaddihealy @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @iknownothingpeople @writethrough @thebadchic @blackveilomens Claudia on Tumblr @tobe-written @blacksoul-27 @loeytuan98 @loverofagoodbeard @comfortcharactercraze @lma1986 @plutonikchaos1 @spicywhenspeaking @lyschko666 @somewhere-diamond @hi-fancy-seeing-you-here @koskeepsake @bngurngheart

NOAH

My knee bounced with nerves as I sat in the chair in the quiet waiting room, the only noise came from the slow ticking of the clock on the wall opposite of me. I eyed it carefully as the seconds ticked by. My appointment didn’t start for another five minutes. I still had time to walk away from here but the daunting reality of the guys asking how it went today kept me rooted in place. So instead of dwelling on the fear of what’s coming, I typed out a new message on the Hollow Omens group chat.

Me: The new song premieres on Octane tomorrow night. Eight pm!

Malcolm: Oh shiit

Jolly: let’s fucking go! We’re excited for you guys to hear it.

Angel 🪽: excitement is so mother fucking real. I’m sad I’ll still be in Japan so I’ll have to figure out what time that would be here! I want to listen to it live.

My stomach dropped as all the wind got knocked out of me, the realization that Y/N would hear the song. The one I wrote about her in my haste of anger. Would she know it? What would she think?

Y/N had another week in Japan and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss her like fucking crazy. She’d already been gone a week so another seven days without her close to me made my heart stutter. I’d been taking care of Salem for her and the scent of her in her bedroom didn’t help the ache in my heart and stomach. I miss the way she smelled so when I noticed her perfume on her vanity; I spritzed the sweater I wore that day a couple of times, so it felt like she was close.

We kept our 2:30 FaceTime call every day since she left, even if it only lasted a few minutes. Just the occasional check-up on how things were going on each of our ends before she had to go, her dad having something planned for them. I called her every morning at 7:30, except this morning since I overslept. I was furious with myself but kept my cool as I sent her a text, letting her know I’d call her at 2:30 my time.

Angel 🪽: I’ll be in bed so don’t make fun of my bedhead.

Me: You’ll still look beautiful.

The corner of my lip turned up when I remembered the selfie I sent her the other day of Salem and I lounging on the floor of her bedroom.

Angel 🪽: oh, my baby! I miss you so much.

Angel 🪽: Oh, you too mochi!

Me: ouch, I’m hurt, angel.

Angel 🪽: I’ll make it up to you when you take me out for dinner. We can go half and half on an appetizer.

Me: For you? I’ll cover the whole bill while you order whatever you want.

Two days ago, Chase and Malcolm returned home so there was no need for me to check on Salem anymore. We expected Y/N to come back with them but she stayed longer for more one-on-one time with her dad.

“Noah?”

Snapping my eyes up to the petite voice, I nodded towards the older lady who stood at the open doorway of the office.

“I’m ready whenever you are,” she stepped to the side, allowing more space for me to walk inside.

I chewed on the inside of my cheek as my eyes cast towards the other door; the one that led outside where my car was parked.

“I hate to tell you this but even if you leave right now, I’ll still get paid,” the doctor joked with a small smile.

I hummed while slowly rising to my feet and walking past her into the office, the words on the door barely catching my attention. “Might as well get this over with.”

Dr. Poulos. Therapist.

NOAH

“Are you concerned she’ll be upset by what you’ve written?” Dr. Polous wondered while writing something down in the book on her lap.

I shrugged while chipping away the black nail polish on my fingernails. “Maybe.”

“Hm, I’m sensing you are.”

For the last twenty minutes, I told the therapist everything about my life; from the past till now. At first, I was apprehensive but knowing this was something I needed, I gave in.

“It doesn't matter. What happened is in the past. We’ve moved on.”

“Why are you using the past tense, Noah? She’s in your life. You’re starting over again, and trying things from a different approach.” Dr. Poulos steepled her fingers together.

“Yeah, I know,” I nodded

She hummed while sitting there to analyze me with her blue eyes, a slight pull on her thin lips.

“Y/N’S on a vacation, right?”

When I nodded, she continued. “Why don’t you take one as well? It might be good for you.”

I shifted on my spot on the couch, eyes darting over to the plant she had on the left side of her dresser. A bit fuzzy because of the connection between phone lines.

“I don’t need a vacation, that’s not what I do- I work. I have too much to do, so much shit to handle. Everything would fall apart if I didn’t,” I admitted. “It keeps my mind focused on what it needs to be focused on.”

Dr. Poulos raised a brow. “What shouldn’t you be focusing on?”

“I hate how much of my mind gets fucking distracted by her. It’s fuckin pathetic, all I see is a life I doubt we’ll ever have. Everything will be taken from me, I’m used to that by now,” I sighed while running a hand over my face.

“Your need to control everything is leaving you vulnerable to the parts of your life you can’t control. It makes you feel uncomfortable not being able to read her feelings, and control the situation, doesn’t it?”

My eyes snapped up from the floor, shoulders rigid with anger. “What do you think? I’ve never known the feeling of a stable home. There were so many years of my life living out of backpacks and on the road. I have these panic attacks, something she hasn’t seen, she doesn’t know about my darkness. She’ll never come back to me if she sees that.”

Dr. Poulos sighed while closing her notebook to set it on the table in between us. “You don’t know that, Noah. Unless you talk to her, you don’t know what she’ll think. Your issue with communication and feelings is, I think, causing a barrier between the two of you. You would rather live in your fantasies than risk giving up control. You wanted to give up control, even for a moment, and run. Are you upset you didn’t?”

I rubbed at my chin while adjusting my position on the worn leather couch. I didn’t know how to answer that so it took a few long beats of silence for me to find the right words.

“Fantasies don’t include repercussions. We were safe in our expressive, well-appointed studios, locked up with our rages and rebellions. I just want things to go the way they’re supposed to, the way I need them to. There’s no life without my band, my work, without her.”

Dr. Poulos smiled. “You don’t need to run from those feelings Noah, I think you need to start by opening up and letting yourself be truly honest. From the get-go, you’re only making yourself crazy running in circles, pushing your own limits.”

I couldn't help but snicker. “Are you sure you haven’t listened to my band before?”

She simply smirked while pulling out her schedule book.

“I’ll see what I can do,” I said, going back to her previous statement.

“It won’t be easy Noah, but I think we can start from here. What days work best for you?”

I mentally went through my schedule. “Wednesdays are fine. Just not at 2:30. I have another appointment I can't miss.”

NOAH

Music played from the speakers, bass pounding against the walls of the house, as I sat with Jolly and Michael on either side of me on the couch. It was still early in the afternoon so we hung out at the house. Jesse and Orie were cooking something on the grill while the three of us were browsing on our phones. My eyes were glued straight down at mine, my heart hammering throughout my body as my breath was still caught in my throat. My cock twitched lightly in my pants but I was frozen to adjust myself discreetly.

“How sweet does Y/N look in this photo?” Michael said while showing his phone to Jolly, who agreed with a small smile.

“Looks like she’s having fun. Noah, did you see it?”

I’d been staring at it for 5 minutes. Everything about it was beautiful. She was truly just as ethereal, as I said she was.

“I wonder if her caption is for a song,” Michael continued to analyze the picture, a little too long for my liking.

Realizing I didn’t even read the caption, I peered down and read it; my head tilted in confusion.

Fuck this wondering. Fuck this trying and trying. Fuck this belief that two people can become one ideal. Fuck this helplessness. Fuck this waiting for something to happen that probably won’t ever happen.

I knew it wasn’t good enough, no matter what I did, or how much I attempted to show her I was the man she needed. She didn’t want to feel trapped under someone’s gaze. Well, okay then.

Tossing my phone on the couch, I got up in a huff, irritated, walked to the kitchen, and slammed the cabinets as I looked for a glass.

“What’s the matter now?” Jolly asked with a sigh.

“Nothing,” I said while pouring myself some orange juice, slamming the fridge after putting the jug back.

“Who the fuck is slamming shit?” Jesse wondered while walking back inside with a platter of burgers and brats and setting it on the kitchen counter.

“Dude, it’s nothing.” I sucked in a breath, trying to keep my anger in check.

“Your actions beseech you, my friend, why are you mad?” Orie said now standing next to Jesse.

I shrugged while crossing my arms over my chest. “I’m just done,”

“Done with what?”

“Y/N feels trapped, Jolly! I knew she’d never fall back in with me. I knew it. She probably met some Japanese dude who can give her real ramen and is having the time of her fucking life. Maybe that’s why she hasn’t come home yet.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Jesse pinched his eyes in annoyance. “Noah, it’s not that deep. Nowhere in her post does it say that or imply that she’s seeing another man. Y/N is with her dad.”

“All I’m saying is she doesn’t need to be trapped under my gaze anymore, she can do whatever the fuck she wants,” I grumbled while sitting on top of the kitchen counter, legs dangling off the edge.

“You’re so dramatic. You can literally just ask to FaceTime her you know, talk this shit out like rational adults,” Orie said.

“No,” my voice was firm while my heart said something else.

It was almost 2 in the afternoon, which meant our daily FaceTime call would happen soon. Should I bring up the post to Y/N? Or just ignore it like we did every other elephant in the room.

“Good, good hide your feelings. Don't actually share them- see where that gets you.” Jolly shook his head in defeat then rose to his feet.

“We’re writing a record, aren’t we?” I shot back.

“Yeah that don’t mean-”

“Wait, sit down jolly. I just thought of another track. We need to write this down.”

With a reluctant sigh, Jolly pulled out his phone to type as I sang softly the melody that was buzzing in my brain.

“I asked for more than I could take with nothing left to give. So who, who, who, who are you, you? Who, who, who are you? Every day it’s all the same. I don’t wanna play your games. If you wanna know, it depends on who’s asking. Who, who are you?”

“You really are a head case you know,” Michael says before retreating up the stairs to his room.

“Good, don’t care!” I called back before jumping off the counter. “Shit, we need a new amp tuner! I’m going to head to the record store and get a new one.”

“You can use mine,” Jesse said with a mouth full of cheeseburger.

This mother fucker is always munching on something.

“No, it’s fine, I need to clear my head, anyway. I’ll be back soon.”

NOAH

I held my phone in my hand, the constant ringing as I walked towards the record store irritating my already on-edge attitude. It was 2:35 and the second time I tried calling Y/N with no answer. I tried to tell myself that she even said she would miss a few calls, but she hasn’t yet. A week away and we still made our 2:30 FaceTime calls.

Something still didn’t add up.

With an agitated groan, I stuffed my phone back into my pocket while I hummed a new tune to myself, the words rolling off my tongue with ease.

“You’re too good to be true, yeah I gotta go, gotta run You don’t want me the way I want you, no. You walked too close to the rails; I picked you up when you fell.”

As I walked into the record store, a loud bell sounded my presence, and a brunette lifted her head from the front desk to give me a small smile. “Hi, welcome in.”

Her eyes shined as her face twitched, the typical holy shit, I know that person's face that I always recognized when I went out in public.

“Hi,” I waved before walking over to the front desk, her eyes getting larger the closer I got. “How are you?”

“Go-good,” she stood straighter. “I’m sorry, I’m a little star-struck right now.”

I chuckled. “You’re fine. How long have you been a fan?”

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “For the last few months. I saw you guys play with Hollow Souls this last tour.”

My face twitched at the mention of Y/N’s band but kept my composure.

“You know, Y/N’s a huge inspiration for me. Just how she dealt with everything with Trey. It’s amazing how she overcame that relationship.”

I went stiff but slack at the same time. “How do you know about that?”

The girl shrugged. “It’s all over the internet. Reddit has some pretty insane stories about the breakup. Some say Trey was cheating with underage girls while some say she cheated on him but I don’t believe that. She’s not that kind of person.”

“Um,” I rubbed at my chin, desperate to change the subject. “Can you show me where your tuners are?”

She nodded and motioned for me to follow her to the back of the store. We spent the next few minutes talking about the different kinds they had, even though I was familiar with it all, but having a conversation with someone who didn’t judge me or my actions was nice. For the first time in a long time, Y/N was at the back of my mind.

“So,” I peered down at the nametag on her shirt. “Bailey.”

Her cheeks reddened as her lips curled up. “I’d never thought I’d hear Noah Sebastian say my name.”

I chuckled, enjoying how easy it was to talk to her. “What’s your favorite song of ours?”

“It’s not a song but more so a verse off your self-entitled album; My pretty little face with all the right parts. My pretty little face I couldn’t keep from the dark, I learned from the best as my sorrows grew. And then they pulled me out after I introduced them to you.”

“You liked that?,” I asked, almost astonished.

Bailey smiled as she stared up at me, a soft expression on her face.“Yeah, it was deep, like you said you’re perfect on the surface but deep inside you’re flawed, like anyone else. But didn’t notice until the person who hurt you pulled them out.”

When my eyes widened, she quickly stammered over her words.“I’m sorry if that was a wrong assumption, it’s just how I saw it.”

“No, no,” I spoke quickly while running a hand through my hair. “That’s-that’s pretty close. I’m glad it has meaning to you, in that way. That’s special.”

“A lot of your lyrics make me feel that way,” she admitted sheepishly.

“Well, I hope the next record does the same.”

Bailey's brows raised to her hairline. “You’re already working on the next one?”

“Most of it is in the early stages. We’re about to release our first single tomorrow night; octane at eight. Make sure you’re ready.”

“There’s no such thing as ready,” she says. “There’s only willing.”

My jaw went slack for a few seconds until I let out a low cough to make my feelings. Her words had a different meaning than what I was thinking but it still sat deep low in my stomach; the comment kept replaying in my mind.

“What are you doing later?” I blurted before I could stop myself.

“Later?” Bailey raised a brow.

“Yeah, maybe grab some food and talk?”

“I don’t know,” she shifted on her feet to tuck another piece of hair behind her ear.

It was a simple action that reminded me of Y/N. Except it was something that made my heart flutter when she did it. With Bailey, nothing. My heart rate was slow, almost even, and there were none of those butterflies there.

“Are you- are you sure?”

Bailey’s voice brought me away from thoughts of Y/N and how she didn’t answer my call or any of the texts I sent her earlier.

I shrugged. “Well, I asked you, didn’t I?”

NOAH

Walking through the front door, guilt weighed down my heart. Jolly and Jesse were sitting on the couch watching a movie and they raised brows at me.

“You’re back late,” Jolly noted.

“Yeah, I uh- I went out with a girl tonight.” I stopped at the first step, hand gripping the railing.

“I’m sorry?” Jesse nearly dropped the bowl of popcorn. “Who?”

I sighed while turning more towards them while on the stairs. “The cashier at the record shop was nice, and we hung out. We went to Applebee’s and went half and half on an appetizer.”

“Wait- what about Y/N?” Jolly asked.

I snickered, eyes narrowing. “Y/N won’t mind, trust me.”

Anger still pooled low in my stomach because before walking into the house, I sent another text to Y/N to ask how everything was going.

Nothing.

Silence.

Kept me on read.

Message loud and fucking clear, angel.

“Noah, do you not remember what we discussed in the kitchen this morning?” Jolly said, raising his voice a bit, unusual for him. “What the hell, dude?”

Jesse tossed a handful of popcorn in his mouth. “You can’t tell a girl you’ll wait for her then go out with someone else.”

“It’s nothing serious,” I scratched my face. “I hung out with this girl. That’s all.”

“Noah-,” Jolly started.

I motioned upstairs, ready to change the subject. “Hey, Chase and Malcolm want to play Fallout. Are you in?”

“Yeah, I guess,” he sighed.

MALCOLM

“Hey, sweets. How are you feeling?” Chase asked into the phone that lay between us on our bed.

“I’m alright,” Y/N’s tired voice came through the speaker. “I spent the entire day sleeping. My dad had a full day planned for our last day together but I couldn’t get out of bed. I feel like shit.”

I gave a small smile even though she couldn’t see. “He understands, Y/N. Your dad isn’t going to be upset.”

There was a long beat of silence. “Before he dropped me off at the airport, we had a heart-to-heart today. About everything, about Noah.”

I shared a look with Chase. “What about Noah?”

“I’m ready, guys. Noah’s been so patient with waiting for me to go through these feelings and trauma. I thought being with him would deter me from healing but he’s actually what I need to heal.”

“You sure, buttercup? Don’t take this the wrong way, we’re happy that you’re finally at a good place mentally and that you want to jump into this with Noah. But we want to make sure that you’re sure.”

“It’s Noah,” there wasn’t a hint of hesitation in her voice. “I’d never been more sure about anything like this before.”

Chase smiled a little as we linked our hands together. Both of us were so proud of how far Y/N came within the last few months. When she first moved in with us, there was a dark point in all our lives we didn’t know if she would make it past the pain of what she did to Noah; even though it wasn’t completely her fault.

“We’re proud of you, Y/N,” Chase said.

“I love you guys. I feel like I don’t say that enough. Every single bad thing in my life, the two of you have been by my side.”

We could hear the tears in her voice.

“We love you too, sweets.”

We chatted for a few more minutes, making plans for when she returned to the States before her flight home was called. We weren’t able to pick her up when her flight landed so we dropped her car off earlier at the airport so she could drive herself back.

As soon as we hung up, a noise came from my computer, an invitation on Twitch.

“You sure you don’t want to play with us?” I asked Chase while I set up at my desk.

Chase nodded. “I’m fine with watching you play.”

“What’s up, fuckers,” I snorted into my microphone as I loaded up into the game with Noah.

Jolly was there as well but only Noah was listening to me.

“Hey guys.”

I glanced over to Chase when we heard the somber voice of Noah.

“What’s wrong with you, Sebastian?” Chase asked.

“It’s been a long day,” he sighed.

For the next half hour, I played with Noah and Jolly, with Chase watching, and we all joked about random shit but Noah was quiet for most of the time. Something was off with him and as the last match ended, I was ready to get off the game until Noah’s words gave us pause.

“I went out on a date tonight.”

Chase stiffened next to me as I fell back to my chair with my heart-stopping. “I know I’m colorblind but I’m not deaf. What did you just say?”

“No, you’re not,” Chase playfully smacked my chest.

Noah let out a deep breath. “I’m seeing somebody- I can’t, I - she doesn’t want me how I want her.”

Although he never said her name, we knew exactly who he was walking about.

“That’s not true, Noah, you know it’s not. She does. She’s just-.” I said.

“Look, please don’t start this shit right now. I just need to attempt to move on, at least.”

I quickly put my microphone on my mute and then turned my chair towards Chase.

“What the fuck?” I said with an exasperated breath.

“I don’t understand, this isn’t making sense,” He ran a hand over his buzzed head, something he always did when something bothered him. “Should we tell him about her dad and the song?”

“No, 'cause she’ll be pissed.”

“You don’t think she’ll be more mad now? Noah went on a fucking date tonight,” Chase seethed.

I pushed my auburn curls away from my face. “Man, I don’t know. It almost feels like it’s not our place to get involved but it’s-.”

“Y/N,” Chase finished my sentence.

“We need to give her a heads up, just end this tension bullshit. They have to talk,” I sighed.

“She can’t get upset,” Noah’s voice brought us back to the conversation, and I unmuted my microphone.

“Who can’t get upset?” I asked.

“Y/N, she can’t get upset. She ignored me all day after that post on Instagram.”

Chase scoffed. “What the fuck, dude. What does that have to do with you going on a date?”

“I tried to call her, it was 2:30! No answer.”

The way that Noah was speaking clarified that there were underlying feelings behind his actions but of course, wouldn’t tell anyone about it.

“You want to fucking know why she didn’t call you?” Chase sat forward, elbows on his knees and veins in his neck twitching. “News flash, Noah, the world just doesn’t stop when you don’t get attention.”

“Excuse me?”

I could see the darkness take over Chase’s usual bright eyes and knew what he was about to say. I shook my head. “Chase no, it’s not-.”

“No, fuck this soap opera shit. Y/N passed out at 2:30, she has been all fucking day. She was in pain you, idiot.”

A long beat of silence. “What do you mean?”

“Chase-,” I tried again.

This wasn't our business to tell. This should have been something Y/N and Noah talked about privately.

Chase ignored me as his knee bounced with anger. “No, I’m tired of this nonsense. Y/N has endometriosis you ass!”

More silence, only this time you could hear the background noise coming from Noah’s mic clear as day; voices.

“Wait-she told me she deals with something that takes a lot out of her every month. That’s it?”

“Yeah,” I sighed. “Stage Three. It’s a disease in which tissue similar to the lining of the uterus grows outside of the uterus. Every month when she has her period, the pain is worse than normal because of this. Hence today all she did was sleep. She wasn’t ignoring you, Noah. She was just asleep.”

“It's serious. She’s been dealing with this for years and she’ll continue to deal with it for the rest of her life,” Chase said.

“If it wasn’t for the surgery, it could have been worse,” I informed next.

“Wait, what surgery? When?,” Noah asked with pure confusion in his voice.

Chase bit the inside of his cheek. “It was a few years ago before Hollow Souls took off. It’s called a laparoscopy.”

“She had a what? I don’t know what the fuck that is?”

I repeated the word for Noah but his agitation was clear in his next words.

“A lapara-parascopy”

“Bro, sound it out, lapar-o-scopy,” Chase gave a light chuckle, given how tense the conversation got.

“Yeah still don’t know what the fuck that is, is she alright? Is she-.”

Chase and I shared a look, knowing there’s a lot more we can go on about this but also knowing that we’ve said all we could say.

“Like Malcolm said, Endometriosis comes with pain and inflammation, and she can pass out from the pain. Y/N gets sick a lot-you have to do your own research on this, Noah. But you also need to know, it’s not all about you,” Chase said with a shake of his head.

“Why can’t she just tell me that?”

“She wants to, trust us. We know-.”

Noah’s voice cut me off. “I know you know her, but you don’t know what feelings she has. I can’t keep falling for this every time.”

“Noah. come on you’re so stubborn! What happened to waiting?” I shot back with an edge to my voice.

I rarely ever lost my patience but right now with how stubborn Noah was being, I couldn’t help but scoff.

“Never said I wasn’t, but I need to move forward too until she speaks to me herself about this. What else can I do?”

“Noah, she loves you, man. She fucking loves you.”

“If that’s true she would tell me, Malcolm, this shit fucking hurts enough. I’ve got to go, I’ll talk to you guys later.”

Before we could even say goodbye, Noah exited our chat that we used to play video games, leaving just the buzz of dead air playing back on my speakers.

NOAH

Stage 3 of endometriosis is considered moderate.

Endometriosis itself is not a fatal condition. However, experts associate endometriosis with some potentially life-threatening conditions, such as ectopic pregnancy and depression.

There are two types of endometriosis surgery: excision and ablation. Both are laparoscopic, meaning the surgeon makes tiny holes in the patient’s skin and can enter through those holes to perform the surgery, rather than needing to make large incisions. Ablation uses heat to destroy tissue, while excision uses heat to remove it. Ablation can only remove tissue on the surface, while excision can dig deeper to remove all of it.

“Oh Angel baby,” I sighed while dropping my pen on the piece of paper I’d been writing on for the last thirty minutes.

With both hands dragging down my face, I let out another deep sigh before scrolling through another article.

The most common symptom of endometriosis is pelvic and lower back pain, especially during the menstrual period. Rather than the cramping that many women experience during their periods, women with endometriosis often experience severe pain that can be difficult to manage. Other symptoms include pain during intercourse, pain with urination or bowel movements, heavy bleeding during periods, bleeding between periods, fatigue, and infertility.

A small gasp left my lips when I remembered back to that night we shared. The pained expression as I hovered over her until we switched positions then the blood on the condom.

Fuck, infertility. That’s why she freaked when I mentioned a family.

Deciding I had enough research for one night, I called out for Jolly and Jesse.

“Everything alright?” Jesse asked a moment later, followed by Jolly.

The two of them sat on the edge of my bed while I continued to sit on my computer chair, slowly rocking back and forth.

“I-um-I just found out something about Y/N. Might explain why she left that night,” I said while handing them the notepad of paper that I was using for my notes.

Both of them read through it, Jesse sucking in a breath while Jolly let his shoulders fall and took a deep breath.

“Shit,” Jesse said.

Jolly, however, gave me a look. One I knew all too well.

“You fucking knew,” I accused while leaning forward in my chair.

“Not what she was going through. Nick wanted to tell me but-.”

“Wait,” I shook my head in disbelief. “Nick knew?”

I didn’t give Jolly time to explain because I quickly dialed Nick’s number and put the call on speaker while it rang.

“Yellow?” Nick answered on the third ring.

I rolled my eyes. “First of all, don’t answer the phone like that. You know I hate it.”

“Exactly why I do it. What's up?”

“You knew, I fucking know you knew,” I seethed.

There was a very long moment of silence from Nick’s end before a tired breath sounded. “Noah-.”

“No! Why did you fucking help them lie to me? You had me believing I did some shit for months! You all knew what her issue was and you just let me sit here in the dark over it?”

I rose from my chair and paced my room as the anger intensified. For months, they made me think I was the problem; it was my fault that Y/N walked away.

“It wasn’t our place to bring it up, Noah,” Jolly said.

“Y/N should have just been honest upfront about it,” Nick spoke next.

“Clearly she was scared! Read this shit!,” I pointed to the notepad. “She goes through that every month. And not one of you told me. I could have faced her anger later. Fuck, man.”

A shaky breath fell from my lips as I ran a hand over my chin, trying to control the way my heart raced and pulse quickened.

“It’s not too late, Noah,” Jesse reminded me.

“It is because I certainly don’t know how she feels; not now,” I said reminding them about the Instagram post this morning.

Jolly pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “Not this again. It was a post, Noah!”

“Whatever, I’m not dealing with this right now, just know I fucking know you knew and it’s irritating,” I told Nick on the phone.

“But now that you know, does it change how you feel?”

As I opened my mouth to answer, the phone buzzed in my hand and my heart rate now doubled, thinking it was Y/N.

Unknown: had an awesome time with you! 💕 so glad we’re trying this.

Fuck.

My heart sank to the depths of my insides realizing that the text message wasn’t from Y/N.

“It doesn’t matter now,” I answered Nick’s question with a defeated sigh.

CHASE

Malcolm paced the entire length of our bedroom with his hands on his hips. His auburn hair fell around his shoulders in curly waves and if it was any other situation, I would marvel at how gorgeous he looked.

“Mal, you need to calm down. You’re going to burn a hole in the floor,” I tried to reach for his hand but he sped past me.

His emerald eyes burned. “He’s dating someone. Can you believe that? After all that bullshit about waiting for her. The second she’s ready, he moves on?”

“We don’t know that they’re dating. Noah said they went out on one date, it doesn’t mean anything.”

Malcolm sighed before falling onto the bed next to me. It was nearing eight in the evening. Y/N’s flight would land any minute and we were patiently waiting for her to return home.

“Are we going to listen to their song?” Malcolm asked.

I rubbed his knee. “They’re still our friends, Mal. We need to support them.”

Eventually, he nodded before resting his hand over mine. “We need to warn, Y/N. I don’t want her to be blindsided by this news or find out about it from someone else.”

I agreed and pulled out my phone, quickly typing a message out to Y/N.

Chase: sweets, we need to talk to you. Call us when you can.

Sweets: I have pretty shitty service where I’m at. What’s up?

Malcolm and I shared a look, neither of us wanting to tell her over text but knew that it would be better if she found out from one of us. The words almost burned on my fingers as I typed them.

Chase: Noah went out on a date. He’s seeing someone.

Read 9:30 pm.

Chase: sweets??

Read 9:43 pm.

After almost twenty-five minutes with no response from Y/N, I tried calling her twice which only went straight to voicemail. Malcolm pulled out his phone so he could pull up her location. The three of us always shared our location, in cases of times like this.

“Fuck,” he cursed.

“What?” I asked, heart pounding hard against my chest as I peered over his shoulder to look at his phone.

Immediately, we recognized where Y/N was; her avatar on the map unmoving and staying in the same spot for the last half an hour.

Chase: Y/N, please let me know you’re okay.

“What do you think she’s doing there?” I asked.

Malcolm rested his head in his hands. “I don’t know, babe. But whatever the reason, shit’s changed now. It can’t be good.”

We sat in silence for another long few minutes, my hand rubbing soothing circles on Malcolm’s back in a way to keep him calm. I was about ready to text Jolly when Malcolm’s phone rang.

“Buttercup, where are you?” He rushed out once he saw the caller ID.

There was silence on the other end until a broken, destroyed voice sobbed into the phone.

“I fucked up, guys.”

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian and reader #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian reader insert #noah sebastian smut #enemies to lovers #right person wrong time #starcrossed lovers

295 notes · View notes

ponyosmom35 · 10 months

Text

welcome to hell

Simon Ghost Riley x reader

Liability series, chapter one!

synopsis: reader is transferred to a new base as a medic. upon meeting the Lieutenant she realizes that she may have gotten in over her head.

warnings: cursing, ghost is rude

Link to full Liability series!

https://www.tumblr.com/ponyosmom35/733401347573088256/simon-ghost-riley?source=share

“What do you mean we’ve got a new medic on the base?” Ghost asks as Price slides her file across the desk. He picks it up and reads through it quickly, his eyes skimming the qualifications, more the lack thereof. “What the fuck is this Price”

“Miss y/l/n is a young woman whose been sent here by Laswell. She’s good at her job, she’ll do just fine here”

“Shes not military”

“No she’s not”

“Then why is she here?” he questions once more

“Between you and I, Laswell sent her in because her sister is training for 141”

“Emma” Ghost realizes as he puts together their last names.

“In order to get Emma here, Laswell had to pull some strings. One of the requirements was the transfer of her younger sister”

“Its a waste of space!” he states, crossing his arms in annoyance “what good is a medic who has no military background or field experience? Sounds like a fucking liability to me”

“She’s strictly on base, she won’t be in the field”

“So I say again, what’s the point of her? We need medics for the field! She’s only 26!”

“Ghost I don’t make the rules, I just follow them. When Laswell gives me a transfer I deal with it, just like you’re going to listen to me when I say that this girl is more than welcome here. If she’s the price we pay for Emma then so be it” Price says, taking the file out of his hands. He nods to the door and Ghost shakes his head before exiting the office. He was livid, just one more mouth to feed. One more person he’d have to worry about. He didn’t care if this girl was the best in the world, without military or field experience she was as good as useless to him. He fucking hated useless people.

He walks through the base angrily, searching for Soap and Gaz to inform them. He stops dead in his tracks at the sight of Emma with her arm wrapped around a much shorter woman’s shoulders as she led her through the room. She was gorgeous, her long hair fell down her back, she was wearing a pair of scrubs, with a long sleeve underneath it. She had large golden glasses sitting uptop her small nose. He watches as she spots him, she stops in her tracks and stares at him in confusion.

“Oh perfect timing, y/n I’d like to introduce you to our Lieutenant goes by Ghost” Emma says

“Nice to meet you Ghost, I’m y/n, I’m excited to be here” she says with a kind smile on her face, holding her hand out for him to shake.

“A medic with no combat experience, I’ve heard about you”

“Yeah, I’m on base only”

“Fucking useless” he grunts before walking away and leaving the women in shock.

“Excuse me?” she calls out to him, dropping her bag and walking over to him, he stares down at her, his dark eyes boring into her. If looks could kill, she’d be dead. “How dare you speak to me like that!”

Ghost is taken aback at her words, he hadn’t expected her to react this way. Nobody ever talked back to him, this was quite new. “I’m your Lieutenant” he reminds her

“Okay got it, that gives you no right to be a dick!”

“Oh fuck!” Emma calls out, hurrying over to her sister. “You can’t talk to him like that”

“I’d listen to your sister” Ghost warns as they continue to glare at each other

“I’m so sorry Ghost, please ignore her, it’s been a long day she just got off a 10-hour flight, and she’s a little delirious” Emma rambles

“No I’m not delirious, I’m just-”

“y/n!” Emma snaps, clutching her sisters arm tightly. “We’ll be on our way now”

Emma pulls her sister out of the room, trying to ignore the whispers and small laughs from the others in the common room and. They hurry to her room and set her things on the ground. Nobody had ever seen anything like it, this young woman, fresh off the plane looked Ghost in the face and yelled at him, calling him out for being rude.

“What the fuck were you thinking? That is my fucking Lieutenant! The only person above him on this base is Price!”

“He was a dick Emma!”

“He’s allowed to be a dick! He’s the Lieutenant!” she exclaims

“I really don’t care who he is”

“do you have any idea how lucky you are to be here? You aren’t a trained military medic, you don’t belong here! Ghost knows it, that’s why he reacted that way! The only reason you’re here is because Laswell wants me on his fucking team! You forget that I’m in training with him right now, that’s why I’m here, I can’t have you fucking it up for me!”

“I’m sorry Em, I don’t want to get you in trouble”

“Then don’t pull that shit again okay?” Emma asks, she sits down on her bed and nods watching as her sister sighs angrily before leaving her alone.

Later that night she walked out of her room for the first time in hours. Admittedly she was embarrassed about what happened earlier. She shouldn’t have lost her cool with the Lieutenant, but she was hurt by his words. They were simple yet they cut so deep. She walks to the dining hall and all eyes turn to her. Whispers spread through the soldiers and her cheeks burn.

“Don’t worry about them, they’ll be over it in a day” a man says as he walks up to her with his own plate of food, his was stuffed so high she wasn’t sure how he’d gotten it all to fit. “I’m John MacTavish, call me soap”

“Why soap?” she asks

“I clean house” he answers with a smirk, as he walks over to a table with several people sitting there eating “come sit”

“Oh it’s okay-” she starts

“Come on lass we don’t bite” Soap says holding his hand out to the empty seat across from him. She nods and takes a seat next to another young man with a hat on.

“y/n this is Kyle aka Gaz”

“Nice to meet you love”

“It’s nice to meet you, Gaz. How do you guys know my name?” she asks

“That was quite a scene you made earlier, you’re a celebrity”

“Great, my sisters gonna kill me”

“Yeah if Ghost doesn’t get ya first” Soap jokes

“You’re a brave soul” Gaz chuckles “in all my time here I never seen anyone do that”

“Oh so you guys know him?”

“Yeah he’s our Lieutenant”

“Oh you guys are on the taskforce?”

“141” Soap nods as he shovels food into his mouth.

“Thats what my sister is here for, she’s training”

“Emma”

“Oh you know her?” she asks in surprise

“Of course, we train with her daily, she’s one hell of a solider”

“Yeah she is” she responds

“So you must be y/n” a deep British voice says, she looks up to see a tall man with mutton chops.

“Yes”

“I’m Captain John Price, it’s a pleasure to meet you” he says holding his hand out to her, she takes it and shakes it.

“Its nice to meet you too Sir”

“I hear you’ve made quite an impression already” he smiles

“Seems like it” she says nervously

“Between you and I, you’ve got guts I like that. Keep your head up, you deserve to be here. Stop by my office tomorrow at 7 and I’ll introduce you to the other medics”

“Yes sir” she smiles

“Have a good night guys” he nods before leaving their table

“Looks like you might survive, if Price isn’t mad at you then you might have a chance” Gaz comments

“Great” she smiles sarcastically

“Eh you’ll be find lass, just takes gettin used to is all” Soap says

“Thanks guys”

“Anytime you wanna go toe to toe with LT let me know so I can get front-row seats” Soap says causing them all to laugh.

"welcome to hell, love"

chapter two: https://www.tumblr.com/ponyosmom35/733825688470192128/you-dont-like-me-i-dont-like-you?source=share

222 notes · View notes

yelena-bellova · 1 year

Text

Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Three

Chapter Three: Meet the Greyhounds

Plot: On the first day of season training, the Greyhounds welcome the newest member of AFC Richmond and Y/n gets a crash course in Ted Lasso’s unconventional coaching methods.

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: language, use of f!reader (16+)

A/N: Here we are again, now with the Greyhounds entering the story…👀

As always, let me know if you’d like to be tagged, though I’m still only tagging 16+. Enjoy!!

————

Contrary to the whirlwind of her hiring, Y/n’s first week at AFC Richmond was nothing but calm waters.

The first few days had been spent mostly in meetings with Higgins, learning the basic operations of parts of the club she’d be involved in. She bounced back to the KJPR offices every few days for a meeting with Keeley. Already, there was a rhythm developing to her days.

Y/n took the weekend to set up her office, driving over a few boxes of books, wall hangings and office supplies to Nelson Road Stadium. Season training started on Monday and Y/n knew it was her last chance to get settled before the work truly started.

On Sunday evening, she stayed late organizing her desk the way she liked. When she was finally done, taking a final satisfactory look at the space, she collected her coat and locked up for the night. She was on her way out when she noticed up the stairwell, there were still lights on.

Thinking only her and the night cleaning crew were still around, Y/n shuffled up the steps. The closer she got, the better she could make out the light was coming from Rebecca’s office. Not only that, she could hear mumbled curses.

Y/n rapped her knuckles twice against her boss’s door, poking her head in just enough to show who it was.

“Oh,” Rebecca breathed, sat behind her desk, “Come in.”

Y/n took a cautious step through the doorway, giving a little wave, “I saw the light and didn’t know who was still here.”

“Well, I shouldn’t be here,” Rebecca replied, trying to put on a smile for Y/n, “Not till tomorrow anyway.”

Nodding, Y/n shifted her coat in her arms.

“You’re here awfully late as well,” Rebecca changed the subject.

“Oh,” Y/n answered, “Finally took the time to unpack everything. Figured it was a good idea before tomorrow.”

“Good,” Rebecca replied.

It went without saying that there was something wrong. Rebecca had no reason to be there.

“Is everything…” Y/n shifted in her spot a little. She was skirting one of the professional lines she valued. “Alright?”

The moment the question hit the air, Rebecca’s facade cracked. The edges of her smile drooped ever so slightly and whatever faux cheeriness had been masking her eyes faded.

“Do you read many tabloids, Y/n?” Rebecca asked.

“Not actively, but,” Y/n answered, her eyes darting between the floor, the lamp, anywhere other than directly at Rebecca until absolutely necessary, “I see things.”

Rebecca knew, without asking, what headlines she was referring to.

“My ex-husband recently purchased West Ham United,” the woman began to explain, “He poached one of our coaches from last season and…” Rebecca shook her head from the ridiculousness of it all, “There was just a headline that…”

Y/n waited for her boss to find the words, knowing they probably wouldn’t come. Nor did they need to.

Rebecca inhaled, “I suppose I shouldn’t let it get to me but…”

“Hey,” Y/n held up a hand, “There’s no judgement here.”

Rebecca gave a genuine smile, thankful for the understanding. “Well, we both need to get home and get some rest,” she said as she rose from her desk.

“We do,” Y/n was thankful the subject was shifting from personal matters, “Goodnight, Ms. Welton.”

“Oh, please don’t tell me you’re going to call me that the entire season,” Rebecca sighed, half-laughing at the formality, “Rebecca.”

It shouldn’t have mattered, but Y/n felt most comfortable with her barriers in place. However, going up against Rebecca was a fight she knew she’d lose.

“Alright,” Y/n conceded, the only time she planned on doing so, “Goodnight, Rebecca.”

“Goodnight, Y/n,” Rebecca said in return.

That night, once she returned home and settled in bed with a cup of tea, Y/n did research on the enemy. Rupert Mannion, Rebecca’s ex-husband, had indeed purchased West Ham United at the end of last season. He’d gone one step further and hired Richmond’s old coach, Nathan Shelley. There was much speculation as to why the former kitman had left and why he’d chosen specifically to work for Rebecca’s ex. Several tabloids had framed the upcoming season as a battleground not only for the Greyhounds and Hammers, but the ex-spouses as well.

Y/n shut her laptop and rubbed at her eyes. She could uphold all the professional boundaries she liked, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t become a part of a deeply personal fight.

—————————

Come Monday morning, the parking lot at Nelson Road was packed.

Season training had begun.

Y/n had gotten in early, having stopped by Keeley’s office to pick some papers up, and had yet to cross paths with any of the Greyhounds or coaches. She wasn’t trying to avoid meeting them, but she also wasn’t actively seeking out the opportunity. There was safety in the isolation of her office with the only intruder being Higgins every once in a while.

It was around 10 when the first knock at the door came.

Y/n looked up from her desk to see Sam Obisanya standing in her doorway.

“Ms. Y/l/n?”

“Yes,” Y/n answered with a small smile.

“Ah,” Sam took one step inside the office, “I just wanted to stop by and introduce myself. Sam-“

“Obisanya,” Y/n finished for him, rising from her desk to come and shake his hand, “I may not be a football fanatic, but I know your work.”

Sam laughed humbly, Y/n didn’t think there was such a thing until then.

“You’re very kind,” Sam let go of her hand, “I heard you were hired over our break and I wanted to be one of the first to say ‘welcome.’”

“That’s very kind of you, Mr. Obisanya,” Y/n replied, feeling genuinely touched.

“Please,” he smiled, “Call me Sam.”

“Sam,” Y/n nodded, she was 0 for 2…

“Are you finding everything okay?” Sam asked.

Y/n glanced at the space around them, “Everything I need so far, yes.”

“Ah, good,” Sam grinned, “Well, if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. It’s a lot to get used to.”

“Well, I’ll agree with you there,” Y/n chuckled, “But really, Sam, thank you. I genuinely look forward to getting to see you play this season.”

“Ah,” Sam’s hand briefly touched his chest, “Thank you. I hope you have a wonderful day.”

“You as well,” Y/n replied as the midfielder headed back through her office door. Her Youtube observations had been correct; Sam Obisanya was as genuine off the pitch as he was on it.

A few moments after settling back at her desk, a second knock came.

“Hola, Ms. Y/n!”

Dani Rojas.

“Hi,” Y/n greeted, a little surprised, “You must be Mr. Rojas.”

“Dani, please,” the player grinned, “I wanted to come and officially welcome you to Richmond.”

Y/n rose from her desk and crossed the room once again. “That’s very kind of you, D- oh!”

Dani had pulled her in for a hug and had practically lifted her off the ground. In any other case, Y/n would have slingshotted them both into the HR office, but she could tell his intentions were 100% pure.

“I hope you will be very happy working here with us,” Dani said, finally releasing Y/n from his arms, “It is like one big family.”

Y/n chuckled awkwardly, trying to hide her dismay at the thought from someone who was the human embodiment of joy.

“I’m sure I’ll be quite content,” she replied politely, “And I look forward to seeing you play, Dani.”

“Oh, thank you,” Dani said, his grin hadn’t dropped half an inch since he’d arrived, “I look forward to getting to work with you.”

“You too, Dani,” Y/n nodded, “I hope you have a great day.”

“You as well,” Dani wished cheerily before exiting Y/n’s office.

Y/n stayed in the middle of the room a moment longer, trying to process the interaction. She was half sure that within the next thirty seconds, another Greyhound would come through her door.

She wasn’t wrong.

Five minutes after Dani, Colin Hughes and team captain Isaac Mcadoo showed up. While their greetings were less personal than Sam’s and they let Y/n stay on the ground, unlike Dani, they took their time to welcome her. Two minutes after them, Thierry Zoreaux swung by. Just as he was leaving, Jan Maas took his place. In and out, the Richmond players seemed to form a never ending stream of well wishes.

As Will, the team’s kitman, was on his way out from his introduction, Y/n decided answers were worth seeking.

“Can I ask,” she tapped her pen against her desk, “How did you guys even know I was here?”

“Oh, Coach Lasso told us,” Will answered plainly, “He wanted us each to stop by and introduce ourselves. See if you needed anything, officially welcome you to Richmond.”

Y/n nodded, it all made sense now.

“Got it,” she politely smiled, “Well, thank you, Will. I definitely feel welcomed.

With a polite farewell, Will left Y/n on her own once more. She felt like locking the door just to ensure she could actually get some work done. She was pleased to know that the team she worked for wasn’t comprised of inconsiderate pricks, but their kindness had been more than overwhelming.

“Alright, Ted Lasso,” she mumbled to the empty room, “Message received.”

Itwas an hour later, after five more stop-bys by various Greyhounds, that Y/n escaped her office. She headed to the cafe to grab a tea before her morning meeting with Rebecca and Higgins. She made it in and out without any more ambushes, and headed on her way to Rebecca’s office.

Just as her eye caught on one of the placards on the hallway wall, a door swung open at Y/n’s side. She froze as the emerging body nearly bumped into hers.

“Whoa,” the culprit said as they too stopped in their tracks.

Y/n awkwardly laughed as she held her tea in the air, trying to prevent a mess.

“Sorry, that was on me,” the man apologized as the door swung back into place.

“No, no,” Y/n exhaled, “It’s on me for not paying attention.”

The man breathed out a laugh as Y/n brought her arm back into her side.

“And nothing’s on anyone so,” Y/n gestured to her tea, “Could’ve been worse.”

Finally looking up at the man in front of her, Y/n recognized him instantly.

“You’re Jamie Tartt.”

Jamie pursed his lips and pointed a finger at Y/n, “And you’re the new girl? Keeley’s new hire?”

Y/n didn’t love the sound of her position being explained so casually. “Miss Jones hired me to do some work for Richmond, yes. Y/n Y/l/n.”

“Ah,” Jamie nodded, attempting not to laugh at the formality, “Coach wanted us all to come by and introduce ourselves.”

“Well, you saved yourself a trip,” Y/n replied, somewhere between a polite and genuine smile.

Jamie chuckled, his hands awkwardly clasped in front of him. “Well, good to put a face to the name.”

Y/n nodded a little, “Same to you.”

“Right, well,” Jamie bent at the knees and flashed Y/n a smile, “See you ‘round, I guess.”

“See you around,” Y/n returned.

Without another word, Jamie and Y/n walked off down opposite ends of the hallway.

As she climbed the stairs up to Rebecca’s office, Y/n made a note that the Jamie Tartt she’d (quite literally) run into was, indeed, far different than the ill reputation he’d built for himself. He seemed perfectly pleasant, a little blunt, but polite nonetheless. It didn’t seem like the Greyhounds didn’t have any bad eggs.

Switching back to work mode, Y/n knocked on Rebecca’s semi-open door.

“Ah, come in, Y/n,” Rebecca quickly greeted.

Y/n walked in and saw that Higgins and Ted were already standing across from Rebecca’s desk.

“Hey, it’s the newest Greyhound,” Ted said cheerily.

“So sorry I’m late,” Y/n apologized, setting her purse and tea down on the coffee table. She was happy to bypass Ted’s greeting with nothing more than a polite smile.

“Oh, no it’s fine,” Rebecca waved her concern off before turning back to the matter at hand, “As I was saying, everyone alive has picked Richmond to finish in 20th place this season.”

Y/n came to stand between Higgins and Ted.

“Except for the The Daily Mirror,” Higgins interjected, “Which has us finishing ‘twentyelf.’ An adorable but devastating typo.”

Ted hummed, “Okay. Well, you know what? I predict all their predictions ain’t gonna come true. So it looks like we got ourselves a prediction Mexican standoff,” Ted turned to Y/n and Higgins, “Or as they call them in Mexico, a prediction standoff.”

Y/n wondered if the man had an off button.

“Well, the worst part is they’ve picked Rupert to finish in the top four,” Rebecca said with a heavy sigh.

“Rupert’s gonna play this year?” Ted asked in all seriousness.

“What?” Rebecca replied, “No.”

“You’re referring to West Ham United,” Y/n spoke up, trying to move the conversation along, “Correct?”

“Precisely,” Rebecca said, “Everyone thinks he’s better than us.”

“They,” Ted corrected his boss, “Everyone thinks they are better than us.”

Rebecca nodded a little too fast to be considered normal, “Yes, that’s what I said. They. So, what’s the plan? How are we going to beat him?”

Once again, Ted caught the error that Y/n knew was no error at all. “Them.”

“Exactly,” Rebecca replied.

“Oh, boy,” Ted said lowly.

“You know, this might be a good time for us to update our roster,” Higgins spoke up, “Put some more firepower in the team.”

Rebecca pointed towards Higgins, “That is an great idea, Leslie.”

“I agree,” Y/n threw in her support, thankful the conversation was moving back towards work, “Plenty of opportunity to make a big fuss over it, get people excited, pack the stands a little more.”

“Let’s put some feelers out, shall we?” Rebecca continued, glancing over to her manager, “Ted?”

“Well, I know Roy and Coach Beard are workin’ on some new tactics,” he answered, “And, you know, the fellas we already got are gelling real nice. I think we’re gonna do just fine this season.”

If Y/n could have measured the indignity on Rebecca’s face, she couldn’t have.

“Ted, this team doing ‘just fine’ is a far cry from you telling me we’re going to win the whole fucking thing.”

Y/n’s eyebrows raised just as Higgins exclaimed, “Whoa!”

“Did I really say that?” Ted asked, just as shocked.

“Yes, you did,” Rebecca’s voice raised an octave as she pointed towards her couch, “Over there after the Man City loss. Just before you blasted half a liter of Pellegrino in my face.”

The memory finally rang Ted’s bell, “Oh, right.”

“Wait, what happened?” Higgins confusedly asked.

Y/n nearly raised her pen to ask questions but decided against it.

“That,” Rebecca pointed towards Ted, “Is the Ted Lasso I want coaching my team this season. The one who’s willing to fight. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ted nodded, “You watch, from now on, I’ll be floating like a butterfly and stinging like a bee. Except I won’t die immediately after using my stinger. I plan to float and sting for the entirety of the whole season.”

“Excellent,” Rebecca’s expression finally shifted and she looked to Y/n, “I apologize if we’ve thrown you into the deep end of our problems.”

Y/n held up a hand to signal there were no issues, but she was a little confused as to what the purpose of the meeting had been.

“I have a very important lunch meeting with one Miss Keeley Jones,” Rebecca continued as she collected her purse and came out from around her desk, “For some much needed girl talk.”

“Hey, tell her we said howdy and…” Ted wished before looking to Higgins.

“Yo,” Higgins added in a deep voice.

Rebecca looked to Y/n last.

“Tell her I’ll be in tomorrow,” Y/n added, still holding onto her binder.

“Okay,” Rebecca left out the door, off to the KJPR offices.

Y/n sighed as Ted and Higgins began to converse over the later’s out of character greeting.

“Hey, Y/n,” Ted tapped her on the arm, “You settling in alright?”

“Yes,” Y/n nodded, adjusting the waist of her skirt, “Very excited to get started.”

“Well, don’t be afraid to stop by if you need anything,” Ted smiled, missing the slight edge to Y/n’s words, “Or if you just wanna chat. Roy and Beard’d love to meet you.”

Y/n gave one more cordial nod before crossing the room to retrieve her belongings. “I’m sure we’ll cross paths at some point,” she replied, desperate to escape, “But I really do have a few things that need to get done. I’ll see you both later.”

With a trail of goodbyes from Ted and Higgins, Y/n vacated the office as quickly as she could without being too obvious. Not only did she feel it was a waste of a meeting to simply discuss the team’s standings, but no work had really been accomplished. She did, however, learn a great deal more about Rebecca’s mindset for the season than she’d set out to know.

When she returned to her office, Y/n shut the door and locked it. No more interruptions, no more distractions, she could do what she was here to do…her job. If the only way she could do that was by literally shutting Richmond out, so be it.

—————————

Much later in the day, Y/n took her second scheduled leave back up to Rebecca’s office. There was a West Ham press conference being held and Rebecca had requested her presence for the viewing. Something about PR strategies, but Y/n suspected she was partially valued as another essential piece in the takedown of Rupert Mannion.

She arrived just as Higgins was coming to stand behind Rebecca’s desk with her.

“Has it started?” Y/n asked as she crossed the room.

“Just about to,” Rebecca breathed, steel in her voice already.

“Are you sure you want to watch this?” Higgins made a point of asking.

“No, I don’t want to, Leslie,” Rebecca replied, as she loaded the stream link, “But it’s part of my job. I need to be ready to comment if Rupert were to say something snide about me or the team.”

Y/n came to stand on the other side of Rebecca, “I agree. Preparation isn’t always fun, but necessary.”

Rebecca blindly gestured to Y/n as she clicked away on her screen, she only looked up to glance out her window. “Where are they, by the way? Shouldn’t they be training now?”

Y/n peeked out the glass, she hadn’t noticed that the team was completely absent from the pitch. Odd for the first proper day of training.

“Oh,” Y/n said, coming to stand a little closer as the laptop screen changed, “It’s loading.”

Rebecca scooted her chair closer as the feed went live and a West Ham United backdrop became visible. Striding in from off camera came Rupert Mannion, calm, collected and charming.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the press, welcome,” he announced, “Lovely to see you all, and thank you for selecting our humble little football club to do so well this season.”

As the press let out chuckles, Rebecca reached into her desk drawer and pulled out a small pink box. Y/n watched as her boss pulled it open and angrily shoved a bite of a thick biscuit in her mouth.

“Twat,” Rebecca mumbled through a half-full mouth.

“The person you are here to see,” Rupert continued in a grandiose tone, “The Wonder Kid himself, our new manager, Nathan Shelley.”

Rebecca’s ex extended a hand towards his right and seconds later, Nathan and him exchanged places in the center of the room.

“Thank you,” Nathan smiled once he was seated, “Very nice to be here. I’m pretty sure I said ‘wunderkind.’”

Silence from the press.

“This is the same Nathan Shelley who was the kitman here,” Y/n said, half-asking, “Became assistant coach and then stole over to West Ham?”

“Yes,” Higgins answered as Rebecca was chewing, “Rather a hasty and heated exit.”

Y/n hummed in reply, nothing about the man struck her as particularly hasty or heated. The tabloids had painted a much different picture of the man. As Nathan stuttered over his answers, Y/n sensed nothing but a rather awkward humility.

She was proven terribly wrong over the next two minutes.

Nathan’s answers came quicker and were delivered with more confidence. At some point, they became biting. The sudden character shift felt like a reverse of Jamie Tartt’s, from the little Y/n had observed of both.

“Coach Shelley, regarding your old team, AFC Richmond,” one of the reporters began, “Any idea why everyone is expecting them to finish 20th this season?”

Y/n shifted in place as they awaited Nathan’s answer. Something about the smile that pulled at his cheeks just before he spoke unsettled her.

“Probably because there’s no 21st.”

If there was tension in the room before, it had just intensified tenfold.

“Meow,” Higgins commented.

Y/n turned to her co-worker, “Hasty and heated, you said?”

Before they could hear the next question, the Twitter alert on Y/n’s phone sounded from her jacket pocket. She’d set up alerts for the club, each Greyhound and the coaches. Pulling out her phone, the keyword ‘AFC Richmond’ was the first one she saw.

Her eyes widened, “Oh, no.”

Higgins tugged out his phone half a second later.

“What is it?” Rebecca asked.

Y/n and Higgins looked to one another, Higgins braving it and showing Rebecca his phone. Displayed on both their screens was a picture of the Greyhounds, led by Ted Lasso, climbing down a manhole into a sewer.

A PR nightmare.

Y/n distractedly looked up at Rebecca’s computer screen, still scrolling the tag. Someone had asked Nathan a question regarding the photo.

“Yeah, well, it makes sense,” Nathan answered, “They probably have to train in a sewer because their coach is so shitty.”

The press both gasped and laughed, each reporter’s eyes lighting up at the headline possibilities.

Rebecca slammed her laptop shut, fuming.

“Oh, boy,” Higgins broke the silence.

“Coach Lasso needs to address this,” Y/n spoke up, going into strategy mode, “Immediately. This is being turned into memes as we speak.”

Rebecca took a deep breath, pressing her hands together and to her lips in an effort to retain calm. “I will be speaking to him the second they are back,” she answered, before looking up to Y/n, “Come up with some potential response for the press conference.”

“Absolutely,” Y/n nodded, already out from behind Rebecca’s desk, “It’s best if the players don’t say anything either. Don’t give Coach Shelley any more ammunition.”

The day had officially turned and while Y/n had prayed for actual work to do, she hadn’t wanted it like this. Was this the gig? Digging Ted Lasso out of whatever absurd headlines his actions created? Combatting bitter ex-coaches?

Come 2:15, fifteen minutes before Ted’s press conference was scheduled to begin, Y/n gathered the notes she’d made and headed downstairs. She waited outside the press room until Ted came out of his office.

“Coach Lasso,” Y/n called, coming to walk alongside him, “The press are all ready for you but I think it’s important to address the matter of the picture trending on social media. The best strategy is not to stay on it too long, but don’t laugh it off. I wrote down a few responses that might be of use.”

By the time she’d finished, they were stood outside the press room once more.

“I appreciate it, Y/n,” Ted thanked her, “But I think I’m gonna Buffalo Wild this one.”

“You’re gonna-“ Y/n began to question the sentence before connecting her dots, biting down on her lip, “Wing it?”

“Exactly, Tom Clancy,” Ted smiled easily before heading in through the side door and leaving Y/n in the hallway.

With no one else around, Y/n took the opportunity to take a deep breath, throw her head back in frustration and scrunch up her face. Things were about to go from bad to worse.

After collecting herself, she rounded the corner of the hall and entered the press room through the back door. Rebecca was already waiting at the rear of the room.

“Did he take the suggestions?” Rebecca whispered as Ted began to speak.

Y/n inhaled deeply, “He did not.”

Side by side, the two women tried to contain their emotions and project confidence towards whatever was about to be said.

Though his ability lay in questionable standing, Y/n was surprised at how well Ted handled himself. The reporters and him had a rapport that Y/n shouldn’t have been shocked by. For all the comical flaws he possessed, Ted Lasso was likable. It wasn’t many coaches who would compliment a reporter on her new choice of hair color before she asked her question.

“Coach, how are you feeling about the unanimous opinion that Richmond will be relegated at the end of the season?”

“Yeah, that’s true, isn’t it?” Ted replied, “Expectations for us are as low as a rattlesnake’s belly button, huh?”

A few chuckles and smiles from the press.

“But, hey, we got 38 chances to prove all them folks wrong though, right?” Ted continued, “Yeah. And my hopes are as high as a giraffe’s top hat. Next question. And if it’s ‘why is a giraffe wearing a top hat?’ Don’t ask me, man. Go ask a giraffe.”

Y/n felt like she was regaining the ability to breathe as the midwestern wit was accepted. Ted chose his next interrogator, Marcus Adeybo, who was clearly known but in a new position judging by the ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ of the press room.

“Do you have any response to comments made earlier today by your former assistant coach, Nathan Shelley?” Marcus asked.

Y/n tightened her hold on her notebook, Rebecca pursed her lips. They waited with bated breath as Ted thought over his next words with great care.

“Uh, yes, I do. Yeah,” Ted began, pausing with a small smile before continuing, “I thought it was hilarious.”

Through her peripherals, Y/n could see Rebecca was less than pleased. She was thrown herself, but decided to wait for Ted’s full answer before reacting in full.

“I mean, he came and got us, didn’t he? No doubt about that,” Ted laughed, “Hey, but that’s Nate the Great for you, you know? He’s the same way on the pitch. He’ll find the tiniest weakness in a team and just wanna attack that, you know? I mean, he’s a junkyard dog, man. And smart. They’re real lucky to have him over there at West Ham. I wish him the best of luck.”

For all her schooling and experience, Y/n found herself watching Ted in pleasant surprise as he pulled out a strategy she never would have thought of.

“I guess I am a little surprised that’s all he could come up with,” Ted kept going, shrugging slightly, “Especially against me. You know, not one joke about me being a dumb American? Come on, man. It’s sittin’ there. I mean, I’m so dumb…”

Ted’s grin hung open as he waited for a reply to a joke that clearly only served on one continent.

“Y’all are supposed to say ‘how dumb are you?’” Ted helped them out. One reporter raised their hand, “Gary?”

“Why?”

“I-I mean, it’s just classic joke structure,” Ted answered, “Give it a shot. I mean, I’m so dumb…” he nodded towards another reporter, “Lloyd?”

“How dumb are you?”

“Okay, well,” Ted raised his voice loud enough for the room to hear, “I’m so dumb, that the first time I heard y’all talkin’ about Yorkshire pudding, I thought it was a fancy word y’all had for dog poop.”

A few laughs came quietly.

“I mean, I’m so dumb,” Ted continued, waiting for the next line. A slightly confused chorus of questioning his intellect followed.

“Yeah, okay, well, whenever I text someone over here about money, I still spell pounds L-B-S.”

Y/n allowed herself to smile, realizing that there had been no point in giving Ted any suggestions. He was far better on his own.

“Look, man, I’m not a great coach,” Ted shrugged, “Probably ain’t. You know, I’ve been doing this sport now for three years, and I still get a chuckle every time someone talks about a handball violation.”

Shaking her head as it happened, Rebecca nudged Y/n with her elbow and held up her phone. There was a text from Keeley.

Way to let Ted be Ted!

Quickly, Y/n pulled out her own phone and opened up Twitter. Sure enough, there were tweets pouring in under Ted’s name, filled with nothing but praise and ‘LOLs.’

“Yeah, and not one crack about my appearance?” Ted continued, “About this mustache? I look like Ned Flanders is doing cosplay as Ned Flanders.”

Finally, the whole press room was laughing. Even Rebecca had found her smile once again, reserved as it may be for the unconventional approach.

“When I talk it sounds like Dr. Phil hasn’t gone through puberty yet.”

Y/n covered her mouth as she snorted.

“Yeah, I’m more corny than Kevin Costner’s outfield,” Ted waited for the joke to land, with no such reward, “Oh, I lost you on that one. Yeah. Field of Dreams? No?” Ted glanced to the back of the room and spotted Y/n who gave him a slight nod, signaling she understood it. “I guess y’all don’t really like baseball over here, so why would you like movies about it?”

Ted briefly bent down to check his phone, giving Y/n and Rebecca the chance to glance at one another. Rebecca sighed and Y/n shrugged with one hand, the wheels were entirely off and there was no point in trying to reattach them.

“Well, hey, how ‘bout this one?” Ted went on with a new strength, it seemed, “Regarding my panic attacks, I’ve had more psychotic episodes than Twin Peaks.”

The room filled with laughter again, including Ted’s.

“I mean, I’m so crazy…”

This time, both Rebecca and Y/n joined the reporters in asking just how crazy Ted Lasso was.

“There we go,” Ted said approvingly before continuing another round of self-depreciation.

As Y/n watched the room, and Twitter, sing Ted’s praises and reject Nathan Shelley, she made a mental note. No more notes on speaking to the press. Ted was aiming to kill with kindness, and she wasn’t planning to stand in his way.

Names and press conferences, the only things she planned to bend on.

—————————

By the end of the day, Ted was trending heavily and by association, so were the Greyhounds. The manhole picture had been thoroughly memed and it would take a week or two for the image to get lost in the Twitter-verse. Regardless of how good Ted was with the press, Y/n suspected there’d be several more sewer-type messes to clean up.

The sun was just setting as Y/n headed out to the parking lot. A few stray players had stayed late and were trailing out, most of whom she’d already met.

As Y/n searched through her bag for her keys, she heard a familiar voice wishing a teammate a good night. Jamie Tartt.

Y/n glanced up as the striker walked towards the car parked two spaces apart from hers.

“So tell me,” she called across the lot, “Do you guys save the sewer visits for special occasions or am I going to have to get used to doing this kind of damage control daily?”

Jamie chuckled, slinging his bag over his shoulder, “Uh, yeah, that was a new one.”

“Uh-huh,” Y/n’s smile was barely perceptible.

“Coach was tryin’ to teach us a lesson,” Jamie explained, standing at the boot of his car, “See, everyone’s got us finishin’ dead last, but we’re supposed to let that shit flow,” Jamie made a sweeping gesture with his hand, “Like the canals in the sewers.”

Y/n’s tongue poked her cheek as she tried to understand the teaching moment.

“I know it sounds bizarre,” Jamie admitted, most of Ted’s methods sounded insane outside the Greyhound’s locker room, “But he had a point.”

“Uh-huh,” Y/n replied, before grabbing her keys, “Well, whether the shit was literal or metaphorical, you guys just made my job a hell of a lot more interesting.”

“Hey, you didn’t have to fuckin’ go down there,” Jamie’s voice jumped an octave.

The two shared a laugh before moving to unlock each of their cars.

“I’ll see ya,” Jamie said with a smile.

“See ya,” Y/n replied, sliding into the driver’s seat.

Once she shut the door, she let her head hit the headrest. The day had felt like one big preview of how the season would go, and if it continued that way, Y/n was in for much more than she’d bargained for…

——

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex

#ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fic #ted lasso imagine #ted lasso x reader #rebecca welton x reader #keeley jones x reader #jamie tartt x reader #heartfirst

672 notes · View notes