#in a week i won't be busy any more and i'll finally be able to share like

[sirhinkjinks]

a gaggle of little guys

[hotchner-edu]

The Bet | Aaron Hotchner

Synopsis: The team bets Aaron that he won't be able to find himself a date for Dave's annual summer barbecue. Little do they know, he's already got his eye on you.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x F!BAU!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Hotch being perfect

It's half past ten, the smell of paper and brewing coffee permeates through the bullpen, and your eyes were narrowed at the small little circle surrounding Emily's desk.

"Okay, I'll bite. What are we talking about?" You finally lean over to ask, rolling your eyes fondly when Derek flashes a mischievous grin at you. He had been giving you numerous glances over the past ten minutes to try and draw your attention, possessing the giddiness and subtly of a puppy.

"Rossi's barbecue is next week." Emily muses, a bright glint in her eyes.

You nod slowly and cautiously, not sure what you were walking into. "Right..." you drag the word out a bit. "And? What are you planning? You only have that kind of smile when you're up to something, Em."

"Well, Rossi's making plus one's mandatory this year." Derek says with a sly grin, crossing his arms as he leans back against Emily's desk.

You raise your eyebrows and glance to Spencer. "Oh? And we're all in agreement with this new rule?"

"I believe Rossi's exact words were 'you people need to get out more,' so..." Emily laughs softly, shrugging as if his words had become law.

Spencer frowns a little and nods. "He also said that it would be good to bring someone we actually like and know because 'a man who doesn't spend time with his family can never be a real man.'"

"Did Rossi really just quote the fucking Godfather at us." You deadpan and glance over to Emily who raises her hands up and shrugs again. "Okay, fine. Now I'm a bit scared to ask, but why are you guys laughing?"

Derek smiles brightly before answering with an amused tone. "Because this means Hotch has to bring a date too. Rossi's already made a bet with him that he won't be able to find a date, and we're all getting in on the action too. Losers owe a hundred each."

"Wow, Rossi's not wasting any time. So, what did you guys bet on?" You ask with a near unimpressed tone and raise an eyebrow.

Spencer glances between the three of you guys before giving you the Sparknotes version. "Well, the three of us are betting with Rossi. Penelope's still deciding, and we haven't gotten to JJ yet."

"Well, I'll bet you twenty that JJ decides to sit out on this. I mean, guys, please, are you all really convinced that Aaron Hotchner of all people can't score himself a date?" You raise your eyebrows, unimpressed by the wit of your three friends.

You have to refrain from speaking further, knowing it'd turn into a spiel of how attractive you thought your unit chief was. Plus, you weren't trying to deal with them profiling the HR nightmare-sized crush you harbored for Aaron.

"You're going against the grain, sweetheart?" Derek chuckles, lips tugged into an excited grin.

Emily shakes her head and interjects. "Okay, but there's no way he's going to be able to get a date before the party. He was hand delivered like two weeks worth of paperwork this morning."

"It's Hotch. He's full of surprises." You grin, glancing around the bustling bullpen. "And anyway, you guys already have dates?"

Derek clicks his tongue and nods with a pleased smirk. "Yep. You guys remember Savannah, right?"

"Oh yeah, I like her." Emily chimes in before groaning and leaning back in her chair. "Ugh, I don't know if my guy is going to be busy."

You shake your head and smile, teasing her with a sympathetic tone. "Well, if he has any sense, he'll drop whatever he's doing to come with you."

Emily flashes a grin at you, silently telling you that she'd talk to you later about outfit details. Spencer is lost in thought for a second before you see him frowning.

"Spence?" You ask slowly, tilting your head.

He hesitates for a moment before looking at the three of you. "Do you guys think Rossi will let me in without a date?"

"No." Rossi's voice suddenly rings out as he walks by, blowing on his steaming coffee to hide his grin as he beelines to his office.

Derek snickers and claps his hand over Spencer's shoulder. "There's your answer, kid."

Later that day, you're hunched over your desk and nursing your headache with a cup of tea as you read through some reports. Just as you were about to reread the paragraph you zoned out on, you hear your name being called.

Raising your head up and blinking away the blobs swimming across your vision, you see Aaron standing in front of his office door, hands on the railing as he eyes you. "My office."

Standing up slowly, you feel your muscles aching as you stretch a bit. When you've made your way into Aaron's office, you see him leaning back against his desk, arms crossed.

"Yes, sir?" You ask and slowly come to a stop in the middle of his office.

"You've heard about Dave's party next Saturday, yes?" He asks lowly, eyebrows drawn together.

Nodding in confusion, you wait for him to continue.

"And his terms for the night?"

"Uhm, yes, I have. Is this about the bet being made, sir?" You prod gently, wanting to know if he was trying to sleuth out who was betting what.

"Yes." He answers with an unyielding gaze, looking unsure of himself for a moment. "I was wondering if you had someone you were going to bring."

"Oh." You blush a little and smile smally. "No... A lot of us are still trying to find dates."

Aaron huffs in amusement and nods. "Yeah, Dave's really stepping on our necks this year."

"He just wants an excuse to cook more, I'm sure." You chuckle softly.

"It wouldn't be the first time..." He smiles before clearing his throat and straightening up again. "Well, I was wondering if you'd like to accompany me that evening as my plus one." He says, looking at you gently.

It feels like the wind is being knocked out of you as you stare at him owlishly. "Me?" You ask dumbly.

"Yes, it's okay if you would prefer not to though, I know this is very sudden." He reassures you.

Blinking rapidly, you see the slightest bit of pink creeping across his ears. "Oh, no, I would love to be your date for the party." You answer quickly, not wanting to let the opportunity slip through your fingers.

"Really?" He says with a bit of relief, the stress immediately dissipating from his face.

You nod and smile shyly, fiddling with your fingers. "Yes. I'm happy that you thought of me."

Aaron nods back and tries to compose himself a bit. "Of course... and I'm happy that you agreed."

Grinning softly at him, you chuckle a bit. "Well, I'll call you this weekend so we can settle the details, if that's okay..."

"That's perfect." He answers quickly, his eyes warm and filled with an indistinguishable emotion.

"Great! Well, I'll, uh, leave you to it then." You slowly back out of the room, shooting him a reassuring smile and fleeing back to your desk in disbelief.

When the night of Rossi's party finally turns up, you're anxiously pacing around your apartment, checking your outfit for the fifth time. Aaron had insisted on picking you up, ever the gentleman.

Time trickles by slowly, and when you finally hear a gentle knock on your door, you're practically flying toward it. Checking the peephole for a split second, you swing the door open and your eyes immediately dart down to the bouquet of roses in Aaron's hand.

"Oh!" You sputter out in shock, taking a moment to gather yourself. "Wow, they're beautiful. Thank you..." Blushing brightly, you smile as he hands you the bouquet.

"You look beautiful." He speaks gently, but his gaze is intense as he takes you in.

"Thank you. You look amazing..." It's clear that you're a bit flustered as you hurry to quickly put the roses in a vase, eyes continuing to flicker to his figure in your doorway.

He was in a black button up that hugged his arms and torso in ways that had you almost faceplanting with every step.

You're amazed that you manage to make it down to where his car is parked without your knees giving out as his hand ghosts over the small of your back the entire trek there.

He opens the passenger door for you and waits for you to get in before gently closing the door. It was driving you up the wall how gentle and warm he was being, and you almost wanted this to be a real date.

As he drives you both to Rossi's mansion, you speak softly to him, trying to ignore the way he steers with one hand on the wheel.

"Spencer texted me yesterday. He's bringing a girl he met at a coffee shop." You smile softly, meeting Aaron's gaze as he rolls to a stop at a red light.

"Really? That's good." He responds quietly, smiling fondly at the mention of Spencer.

"I know. He was worried about it all week, but I don't think he realizes how many women are attracted to him." You chuckle softly, nodding subtly toward the windshield as the stoplight turns green.

Aaron nods and grows quiet. A few minutes of silence pass before he speaks up, voice laden with nerves. "I'm grateful that Dave made the bet."

"Really?" You respond in surprise, wondering if it was because he was going to be a couple hundred dollars richer by the end of the night.

"Yes because it gave me the push I needed to finally ask you out."

Your lips part a bit at his words, butterflies swinging around your stomach and buzzing to the tips of your fingers. "Aaron?"

"I don't want tonight to continue with the pretense that I only asked you out to win the bet." His voice is mellow and growing more confident by the syllable, eyes occasionally flitting to yours as he drives on the highway. "I've admired you for a long time as an agent and a friend... and it didn't take long for that to turn into something more for me."

"Why are you telling me this now?" You muster up the courage to ask, leaning a bit closer to the center console between your seats.

"Because I realized these feelings were only growing everyday I saw you. Even if it's selfish, I want to be honest with you." He braves another glance at you.

You let out a heavy breath full of relief as you smile brightly at him, the setting sun casting a glowing pool of pinks and oranges across your beaming face. "I like you too, Aaron. I have for a long time as well."

Aaron's free hand reaches for your hand, and you happily let him tangle his fingers with yours. It was clear that nothing more needed to be said between you both, the connection between your hearts growing stronger with every ounce of relief and adrenaline that filled you both.

The feeling of his calloused hand in yours keeps a buzzing warmth coursing through your body for the rest of the drive.

When you pull up to Rossi's opulent house, neither of you notice the curtains of the window by the front door moving as your team take turns peeking outside when they realize Aaron's car has arrived.

Aaron walks with you to the front door with his arm around your waist, a bright glint in his gaze as he's radiating unadulterated joy.

Neither of you even pretend to be sheepish when the door swings open and Penelope's squeals meet your ears, everyone piecing together the puzzle when they see Aaron holding you close.

"We were starting to think you both got lost." Rossi's voice rings out as he chuckles and beckons you both in, looking at Aaron with an impressed smirk.

"Thanks for having us, Dave." Aaron grins, squeezing your waist before loosening his hold to let Penelope tackle you in a hug, Emily and JJ's enthusiastic questions not far behind.

"When did that happen?" Emily gapes, excitedly poking your side and raising her eyebrows.

You hug JJ and answer her from over JJ's shoulder. "The day you all made the bet. I told you guys that Aaron's full of surprises."

"Remind me to never bet against you in the future. Well, someone get Derek over here." Emily shakes her head in disbelief as you all slowly migrate toward the kitchen.

Aaron's hand finds yours again as you triumphantly smile, "Oh right, I hope you all brought your wallets! It's time to pay up."

"My man!" Derek's voice echoes around the house as he emerges from the wine cellar, beaming at Aaron. "Where's your date?" He asks, clearly unaware of the proximity between you and Aaron.

Aaron holds up your joined hands and chuckles. "I think this means I win?"

Morgan nearly drops the bottle of wine in his grip as he swivels his head for a double take at you both.

Rossi leaps toward Morgan, arms extended forward as panic seeps into his eyes. "Careful! That's 1860 Madeira!"

Morgan groans and lets Rossi wrestle the bottle from his grip. "Will you ever let us win at something, man?"

Aaron's chest rumbles with a chuckle as he rubs your knuckles with his thumb and shakes his head in amusement. "Not a chance."

[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override (4)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

Ewan wants to clear things up about the night out and his mystery companion, and the reader gets another surprise in LA. Will the two finally have their first date or will something get in the way once more?

Ewan's publicist Donna has never had any issue with her client before. Always present and accounted for, on time for whatever interview, photoshoot or audition he has booked for the day.

But she hasn't been able to get a hold of him in the past two days, which is worrying her to no end, because he is set to meet with a major casting director in New York some time in the coming week.

Donna may have a clue as to why. It's only been two days as well since the pub incident, when The Sun ran a story speculating on Ewan's lovelife - the exact kind of thing he's always been trying to avoid.

It had taken a life of its own, with fans taking it upon themselves to track down every clue of the girl on the internet. Her instagram. Her relation to the cast - apparently she is a cousin of Luke and Elliott. Even the marketing agency where she works. Louise, a 26-year old graphic designer, admittedly harbours a crush on Ewan, and when she heard that her cousins were hanging out with him at a pub nearby, she almost immediately invited herself and her friends over.

But that's all, according to Ewan. After talking to Luke, memories of the night came rushing back to him.

Stumbling out in the alley to send you that voice message. Rejoining the boys to see that they've got new company. Being introduced to Louise, with Tom joking that he should be careful with the missus. Wouldn't want her - you - to think that he's flirting with anyone else.

Even though that's exactly what happened. Not the flirting, per se. Not from Ewan's side, at least. Louise had been brazen with admiration, barely leaving his side the rest of the night. Asking him a bunch of probing questions he had neither the interest nor the patience to answer.

They had all thought the pub was safe from prying eyes. No one approached them for anything, not even a single look of recognition followed by the question, “Are you that guy from House of the Dragon?” Unfortunately, it only takes one rat for a headline to surface. Ewan Mitchell’s mystery girl has been the talk of the fandom and Donna has been trying hard to quell the rumours. 

Such is the nasty nature of the business, as she knows Ewan has quickly learned.

She dials him again, and to her surprise, the call actually patches through.

Her client's throaty voice is heard on the other line, "Hey, Donna, sorry if I've missed your calls."

"It's alright, it's alright, Ewan," Donna stammers. "Just glad to hear from you. Where are you? I've managed to do some damage control about those rumours and - "

"Oh, I'm in LA. I just landed about an hour ago," Ewan responds casually, not mirroring the stress in Donna's tone. Has he gotten over the fuss so easily?

"LA? You know your meeting is not till next week, right? And it's in New York. It's very, very important that you don't miss it, Ewan."

"And I won't," Ewan affirms, laughing dryly to console his worried publicist. "I just need to see about something over here."

Someone, he thinks. He's got his priorities straight.

"Work-related?" Donna asks, curious.

"Uhhhm," Ewan dithers, but decides against telling her about you. Not just yet. "Just visiting a friend. I'll stay here for a while then fly out to New York, don't worry."

"Okay, just keep in touch, alright? I'll send more details about the meeting soon."

"Sure thing. Thank you, Donna."

"Talk soon, Ewan. Take care of yourself."

Donna feels a huge sense of relief wash over her when the call ends, knowing the whereabouts of one of her biggest clients. But why LA? Perhaps Ewan just needed some time off after the flurry of annoying headlines put out in the UK.

Or maybe he's visiting with a friend? Who is stateside right now? Fabien's filming in Philly. The rest of the boys are still in England. But then...

Her thoughts land on the one thing - the one person - that would make him fly out on such short notice. Without giving thought to anything else, especially after the speculation on his romantic life.

Ewan's never been one to share about personal affairs, not even to his close-knit team, but no matter how reclusive he is, no one can deny the way he looks at you. The way he lights up when you're brought up in conversation. The number of times he had excused himself from their meetings to make a call, standing in the corner with a permanent smile etched on his face.

Oh, Donna knows now just who he is in LA for.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Like inevitable spectres haunting someone of his profession, Ewan noticed the papparazzi snapping away as he arrived in LA.

He told no one he would be coming, so it must be an automatic thing in the city. The photogs are always scurrying in the periphery, ready to catch anyone of note, no matter the degree of fame or notoriety.

If you were keeping up with such news, you would know he is in the city.

But according to your assistant Clara, who was kind enough to inform him of your schedule, you are still finishing up on another day of rehearsals for your upcoming rom-com. Ewan checked in the same hotel as you, planning to seek you out as soon as you arrive back from work.

He hasn't spoken to you since the voicemail, and since those false news broke out. Not that he can blame you - wouldn't anyone be suspicious of a drunken confession made by a guy who was allegedly in the company of another girl?

He hates it, being subject to all of this. This nonsense that is keeping you from him, not even worth any consequence.

But he will deal with the blows. As long as he sets things right with you. As long he gets you in the end.

He settles in his suite, getting ready to meet with you once more. He showers, shaves, tousles his hair. He even checks whether he smells decent after all of that - once, twice, and another time. Being nervous to stand in front of a crowd is one thing; it's a whole other conundrum for him finally see you again.

Maybe the crowds are more manageable, and it baffles him to realise so. He can put on a persona, be the actor, and disappear inside himself as the cameras flash bright enough for him to disassociate.

But not with you. He wants to show you everything that he is, who he truly is, and it scares him. There is no team to help him get ready now. It's all him, just Ewan.

Clad in his trusty black jeans and a comfortable hoodie of the same dark colour, he looks in the mirror one last time after receiving a text from Clara that you've arrived at the hotel about half an hour ago.

He contemplates opening the bottle of bourbon from the minibar and taking a shot of liquid courage - something to help him get his explanation ready. Just so he wouldn't stammer in front of you.

Just so you he can make you see, without any error or trace of doubt, that he meant every word in that voicemail, no matter how embarrassing it might have sounded.

He decides against it, imagining the wrinkling of your nose as you catch a whiff of the alcohol. It's cute when you do it, and he adores it so dearly, but he knows that it isn't the right moment.

He rights himself, rolls his shoulders, and he's out the door.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Jacob trails you inside your hotel suite, laughing at some shared remark about the scenes you rehearsed for the day.

They were emotionally demanding and even after tossing around ideas for hours, the two of you were unable to achieve a satisfying approach to the scenes.

Which is why he had proposed practicing well into the evening, and you found yourselves heading back to your suite together. He has his own house in LA, but your hotel just happened to be closer to the rehearsal studio.

"Care for a drink?" you asked him.

"Why the hell not?" he immediately assents in that easy, Aussie drawl. "We might need it for this shite."

You laugh in agreement, "Indeed. I've got some canned gin and tonics if that's alright.. or beer... or whiskey... " you trail off as you study the contents of your fridge.

"G and t, please, mate," he settles down on the couch, legs stretching in front of him. "We were so unproductive today. I just could not get that line right."

"Tell me about it." You hand him his drink, and he clinks it with yours with a mumbled cheers. "It was me who can't land the right tone," you say. "I mean, is my character supposed to be confused in that moment? Or angry? Or sad?"

"Or all of 'em." he shrugs. "Tricky, isn't it?"

You hurriedly fetch your script from a table, getting right down to it. "So for the first scene in the third act..."

Moments later, with cans of gin and tonic discarded on the coffee table, you and Jacob sit with legs crossed on the couch facing each other. Scripts in hand, you go through the lines over and over, with only seemingly minor tweaks each time. To an actor though, even just the slightest change of pitch or expression makes all the difference.

"Is that better? I think we almost got it," you say after a read-through.

"Yeah, so much better," he grins, holding his hand up for a high-five. Just as your hands smack in the air, another sound echoes faintly from the door.

"Someone's knocking?" Jacob asks. "You expecting anybody? Room service or anything?"

"No," you shake your head, trying to think of whether your assistant or publicist said anything about dropping by. "Maybe it's just housekeeping?"

"I'll get it," Jacob states, already padding his way to the door.

A beat later, you hear Jacob loudly exclaim, "Ewan, mate! It's good to see you!"

Ewan? A shiver runs up your spine. Craning your neck to get a view of a doorway, you catch sight of him, half-obscured by Jacob's tall frame.

Confused, surprised, and feeling some other emotion you can't pinpoint, you head over to greet him.

"How are you doing?" Jacob greets, shaking Ewan's hand, oblivious to the poorly hidden distaste in his eyes.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" Ewan finds himself asking Jacob, a bit rudely, just as you ask him the same.

"What are you doing here?" you mirror his question at the exact same time.

"Oh!" Jacob breathes out a laugh, "Well, I'll go first. We were just practicing lines."

"In her room? Isn't it a bit late for rehearsal? I thought you're supposed to be off work." Ewan asks, and it sounds like an accusation. He starts to feel all kinds of uneasy - were the twins right about life imitating art?

You narrow your eyes at him. "We decided to continue running lines after rehearsal. There's a scene we can't get right. It's quite tricky - "

"Just the two of you? Alone, here?" Ewan tilts his head, gesturing towards the room like it's some forbidden place.

Jacob shakes his head, smile steady on his lips. If he's caught on to how Ewan must be feeling, he doesn't let it affect him. He gives you a look, as if to check your reaction, and you give him a reassuring shrug.

Ewan does not overlook this exchange. He clenches his jaw, irate from the assumptions popping up in his mind. Before he forgets his manners, he says, "Excuse me, I just... wasn't expecting... I just wanted to speak to you."

"I didn't even know you were in LA," you say, before moving aside to usher him in. "But I'm glad you are, of course. Come join us - "

He nods, making his way to the seating area, where he spies the discarded cans of alcohol and dog-eared scripts. Maybe he should have taken that bloody shot after all.

He laughs joylessly to himself, shaking his head. "Sorry, you guys. I just flew in today, and I must have been exhausted from the flight."

"Hey, no worries, mate," Jacob says. "You know what, I'll be on my way. Give you time to catch up and all." He picks up his own tattered script then gives you a kiss on the cheek, bidding you with a, "I'll see you tomorrow. Have a good night, sweetheart."

If looks could kill, and if his dear mother hadn't raised him right, he would have incinerated Jacob in that moment.

He is snapped out of his thoughts when Jacob claps him on the shoulder, "Great to see you again, mate. Have a good night, eh?"

Ewan knows he's being ridiculous. There's nothing wrong with two friends and co-stars spending some time alone to rehearse. Besides, last he heard, you were adamant that you and Jacob are just friends.

So why is he being so irrational? Why does the idea of you spending more time than necessary with Jacob, possibly falling for him, bother him so much?

Ewan realises that this is what jealousy must feel like.

He's had career envy before. Another actor landing a role he vied for. Someone else getting the praise he deserves.

But nothing like this. It's petty and possessive.

He wants you to just be his.

You stand in front of him once more after you walk Jacob out of the suite.

"Hey," you say, smiling weakly.

"Hi, darling."

Both of you want to do more. Say more. Usually you would greet each other with a hug and a kiss on a cheek, his hands lingering on your forearms even after you pull away, but the air is thick with tension.

You look at him with those bright, expecting eyes of yours, and Ewan just wants to cave in and make a sloppy confession. But not after that voicemail, no. He's determined to do this right. Words not slurred, head clear.

"So I got your voicemail," you finally say, smiling coyly. "That was... something."

"Hmm," he can't help but mirror your smile, as always. "It was, wasn't it?"

"I understand," you continue, taking a step closer, "if you were drunk. We all say things when we're off it that we maybe don't mean - "

"But darling, I meant every word," he says, way too quickly.

You laugh, the sound of it erasing whatever apprehension remained in him. "Do you even remember what you said?"

"I do," he counters, moving even closer to you. Another step and he'd be able to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you to him. "At least, some of - no - most of it."

"Oh yeah?" you ask cheekily, aided by the effect of gin. He still has your heart racing, but a part of you now knows that the feeling is mutual. "What did you say again?"

He sees that glint in your eye, and it causes him to smirk. "Why don't I make it simple for you, darling?" He closes the distance, one hand brushing the hair from your face.

"Okay," you swallow, getting lost in his blues.

"I missed you." He kisses your cheek. "I like you. A lot." He kisses the other. "And I, uh, I would like to take you on a date."

His eyes meet yours. His voice is steady, but you notice some nervousness in his gaze. How the tables have turned. You make Ewan Mitchell's heart go awry.

"Please, darling?" he timidly adds, the sentiment so sweet you want to blurt out yes immediately. Before you can, he's already leaned back, an explanation rushing out of his lips, "And... I'm not sure but you must have seen those headlines? They're not true, I swear. We were out drinking and - "

"I know, Ewan." You cut him off with a hand pressed gently on his chest but he keeps going.

" - some other people joined us. One of them being - "

"Luke and Elliott's cousin. I know. Elliott called and told me everything."

"Oh. He called you?" A huge sense of relief washes over him, better than any comfort he might have found in a shot or three of bourbon.

"Mhmm, he called me yesterday. So, you know, you didn't really have to fly out. I was about to call you eventually."

He smiles bashfully, eyes cast down as a blush spreads across his cheeks. Damn it, Elliott, you brilliant lad. He reminds himself to treat Elliott to a pint the next time he sees him.

"I still wanted to see you," Ewan maintains, pressing a kiss to your forehead and you're immediately enveloped by the familiar comfort of his scent. Surprisingly without the staple hint of cigarette smoke, due to his frantic scrubbing after the flight.

"I'm happy you're here," you say, wrapping your arms around his waist, cheek pressed against his chest. "And no offence to Louise or anything, but she needs to learn some boundaries with my - "

Ewan looks down at you fondly, squeezing your arms to prompt your next words, "Yeah, darling? Your what?"

"My - " you attempt to bury your face in his hoodie, but he keeps your gaze with a hand cupping your jaw. So you end up saving yourself with " - my Aemond."

"Hmm," he hums, lips curling, and it's so very Aemond of him it makes you feel warm all over. "Your Aemond.Your Ewan. I'm all yours, love."

The whole thing couldn't have gone any better, all things considered, and Ewan feels content to have gotten over his first brush with the rumour mill. What matters is right in front of him, and you know the truth.

"Are you staying in this hotel? How did you even know I was here?" You take his hand, guiding him over to the couch.

"Clara," is all Ewan says by way of explanation.

"Well, thank you, Clara," you declare. Ewan shuffles closer to you and rests his arm around your shoulders, planting a kiss on your forehead again. The gesture is already becoming instinctive, providing the both of you with a sense of ease.

"Darling?"

"Yeah?" you respond absentmindedly, fingers toying with the soft fabric of his hoodie.

"Is that a yes?"

You exhale deeply. As if it wasn't clear enough already. "What do you think, handsome?"

"I don't know, angel. You tell me," he counters cheekily, his fingers playing with your hair as you playfully glare at him.

"What if I say no, baby?"

"Then I'll have to work hard to change your mind, princess."

"And how would you do that, honey?"

His gaze darkens, and something flashes across his blue eyes as he whispers intensely, "Use your imagination, bunny."

"Ri-right," you bite your lip, then shake your head to snap out of it. "We'll have to draw the line at bunny."

He laughs at your flustered state, pleased by the effect he has on you. "What's wrong with bunny?"

That elicits a groan out of you, but you smile anyway. "I already said yes, Ewan. Quit it with the bunny."

"Alright, beautiful," he relents, making you lean even closer against him.

The haze of gin after a long work day starts to subside and the rush of emotion is coming back to you. You find yourself gazing at Ewan in mild disbelief, in awe that he just confessed that he wants you.

Feeling antsy, you stand and pace around the room. You start tidying things, putting your scattered knick-knacks back in your handbag. If you sit with him any longer, you just might end up hurrying things through and jump his bones already, kiss him the next time he does that hmm.

"Can I get you anything?" you ask.

"No," he says smoothly. "I just need you." The words make you stop in your tracks. He still sits in the same position, looking at you with that undeniable desire in his eyes.

"Uhhhm," your mouth feels dry all of the sudden. Nothing his tongue past your lips can't fix, your intrusive thoughts barge right in. "So... the... the media rollout's still going on isn't it? Should we check and see?" You take your laptop and plop back down next to him. He doesn't miss a beat and cuddles against you once more, wrapping his arm around your tense frame.

"I think so, darling." The media rollout is how the interviews and promotional material filmed by the cast is being released gradually, on a weekly basis, after each new episode comes out.

A simple search on Youtube confirms it, and the first thing that popped up is the Where is The Lie? video you did for Elle.

It was slated for just Tom, Phia, and Ewan but your Blackwood character became such a fan-favourite that they asked you to join in. Not to mention the frenzy you and Ewan caused online with the initial interviews you did together.

"Shall we watch this?" Ewan offers, solely for the intent of seeing you in the video.

You click on it, and for the next 8 minutes or so, all you can take note of are the signs that had clearly already been there. The fans were on to something when they claimed that you and Ewan are a really good ship.

The video starts with a clip of Phia hitting her head on the overhead lamp when she stands, prompting her to uncontrollably giggle along with you and Tom. Ewan, being the exception, is beside himself with worry, and he appears to instinctively reach for your hand as you sit beside him.

"Huh," Ewan smiles, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it.

Tom is the first to be put on the hot seat, and he slowly recites the three statements he prepared. "Ewan, pay attention," Tom blurts out when he notices that Ewan kept sneaking glances at you. "Sure, I'm locked in," Ewan says right back, as you and Phia share a look.

"What were you looking at?" you ask playfully, poking him in the side. "You seem plenty distracted there."

He snorts at himself in the video, when he ends up smiling as he caught your eye. "It was your fault. You were distracting me."

"I was not!" you exclaim. "I thought you were just being competitive then."

Phia is next to have a go. She tells you of a Wifi repellent necklace, a wrestling career, and saving a squirrel from a drainpipe. "The Wifi thing sounds like something Ewan would have," Tom jokes. "Oh sure," you concur, "except that he'd actually keep it so he can watch films." Ewan smiles at your acute observation.

"I'd also keep it to stalk your Instagram," Ewan mumbles from beside you. "And you know, just stalk you in general."

"I'm sure you do, Mitchell," you respond casually, but your face warms up anyhow.

It's Ewan's turn, and as he sits on the hot seat, you see Tom and Phia casting a look at each other then at the two of you, a secret message shared between them. "I bet she will know the answer right away," Phia says. "Yeah, how do we know the two of you didn't conspire together?" Tom asks. "Are you kidding me, you guys?" you laugh at them, thinking how silly they were being, not knowing then that they were definitely on to something.

"Darling, you have to know this," Ewan tells you specifically as you all try to guess the answer. "Oh, darling!" Tom mouths to Phia, dramatically flipping nonexistent long hair over his shoulder. Phia laughs at his antics, before nudging you and saying, "Which one is it? Which is the lie? I trust you." You respond, "Why me? You two should know this too!"

"Because I wasn't trying to date them, my love," Ewan says, smiling at the screen.

"Oh, come on now." You crane your neck up to press a soft kiss against his cheek before turning your attention back to the video. So you don't notice the switch in Ewan's breathing. The jumps in his heartbeart. The way he subtly clears his throat to deal with his flustered state.

The video comes to a close after your turn and even at the very end, Ewan can be seen admiring you as you give the closing remarks with Phia.

Admiring you, as he does in the moment.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" he says, when you turn to look at him.

"Thank you," you reply softly, your voice barely audible.

Some time passes with the two of you catching up, talking about your upcoming projects, his big meeting in New York - all the while his fingers trace patterns on your exposed skin, his arm wrapped around you snugly.

"Have you been keeping up with the show?" he asks.

"The last episode I saw fully was... the second one? I got pretty busy after that. How about you?"

"Oh," he looks down in thought, piquing your curiosity, "so you didn't get to see the third episode yet then?"

"No, not yet," you shake your head, "but I've seen some stuff here and there."

He hums again and he wants to ask, have you seen his stuff? There are around a dozen or so potential jokes at play here. He has an inkling to tell you to watch the episode so you can see just what you're in for. So you can see him and all he has to offer. He'd also fumble through a justification, as he had done in some interview, about the new studio they had filmed in being cold as a fridge freezer.

What to say? What to say? He picks at some lint on his jeans, smirking to himself.

"Yeah," you eventually giggle at his obvious hesitation. "I've only seen some of the episode. But what I've seen... is enough to make me jealous of Madame Sylvie."

He stiffens, throat suddenly dry, but one look at your smile does away with his concerns.

He soon finds himself laughing, a muffled, "Oh, darling," whispered lovingly against your hair.

"That was very brave of you, Ewan," you express sincerely.

"Thank you, love."

"So... just how cold was it in there?"

Your shared, unrestrained laughter echo throughout the room.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Your first date was meant to happen the following night, but such is the nature of the job that Ewan's schedule gets moved up all of a sudden.

Once the bigshot casting director in New York found out that Ewan is already stateside, he requested that the meeting be held at the earliest possible opportunity.

He calls you while you are in rehearsals, profusely apologizing and promising to fly back to LA in the next two days, right after his meeting is all sorted.

"It's okay, Ewan," you reassure him, genuinely understanding. "I will see you when you come back. Good luck, I know you're going to smash it, whatever opportunity this is!"

"Thank you, darling," he says, already wanting to have you back in his arms already, mentally kicking himself for not kissing you when he had about a hundred chances to do so. "I'm going to miss you."

"I'll miss you too," you respond, blushing silly with the phone pressed to your ear. "But it'll only be two days."

"Hmm, doesn't matter. I need to take you on our bloody date, darling. I've already taken so damn long."

"Don't worry," you say, "I've already seen you way more than I should before the first date."

"Wha - " a protest forms on his lips, but he gets your point right away. "Oh. Clever, darling."

"I know."

"But I'm planning to give you something that's just for you. That the whole world won't ever be privy to."

You swallow hard, your very being heating up at his insinuation. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Mitchell."

"I guess you'll just have to wait and see."

Bonus chapter!

Nocturnal file 🤫

💌 next chapter

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The cast's Where is The Lie? video is an actual thing! I hope yous got the reference!

Notice how the two nerve-wrecked shites didn't have their first proper kiss yet??? Will they ever?? 😩😩😩

Taglist is officially closed for this one. Please bookmark this series or the masterlist (or follow my page) to keep up with updates <3

I can't even overstate how mad all the love for this series has been! I'm always looking forward to hearing from you guys - suggestions, comments, complaints are always welcome!

See you in part five! (preview: something will happen in NY that might cause Ewan to question things!)

[russellsppttemplates]

That’s bullshit if I’ve heard of any (Lando Norris)

Lando finally had enough of seeing you hurt like that

Note: english is not my first language. I've been writing this one for a little bit and today felt like the day to finish it ✨️ this also felt close to home, but good to write it out, too!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: reader's self-doubt and low self esteem, loneliness, curse words, mentions a bad date with a rude person

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"Are you sure you want me to come over?", you asked your best friend over the phone, refusing to accept that he had no better plans for his Friday night now that he was not racing.

"Is this your way of telling me you don't want to come over? Because that's fine, I'll stay in - are you going somewhere though? Like a date?", Lando said over the phoneline.

"Bold of you to assume I would have plans, and with a date nonetheless", you muttered, "all I'm saying is if you have something better to do, you should go do it!", you explained, not wanting to get into the topic too deeply.

"There's nothing better than spending time with my bestfriend! Do you need me to pick you up or do you feel comfortable driving at this time of night?", he wondered, "I'll be there in 10 then", you chatted off, ending the call.

Looking around your room, you found clothes that were both comfortable and presentable in case, with your usual luck, you were pulled over by the police and had to come out of your car.

Lando finally had some time off before the season began and he wanted to spend it with you. While you were usually able to fly out to most of the European races and even travel the long distance to other race tracks, this season you had more responsibilities to juggle between your internship, your studies and your family.

He arranged the pillows on the sofa and brought out your favourite snacks, getting his place ready while occupying the time until you rang his doorbell, walking up to the door so he could let you inside, "hey!", he greeted, excited to finally have you with him after weeks where you both had been busy.

"Hey", you said, nudging his hip slightly with yours as you went to the shoe cabinet, leaving your shoes there and putting on your slippers you kept at his house.

Following him silently to the living room, you watched him sit down as you took in the comfort his place made you feel.

"You're not okay", Lando stated, "I noticed when we were on the phone".

"So this is a pity visit?", you wondered, "That's why you called me over?", you grumbled, feeling the blush erupt on your cheeks along with a little annoyance.

"I never said that! I, I called you and then noticed you weren't okay! Scoot, scoot, I got a tray full of goodies for us to eat", Lando urged, pushing the blanket to the side so you could get in the warm cocoon he created with the soft fabric along with pillows in various shapes and sizes you had insisted he needed to make the place feel more home-y.

"Are you going to talk about what's on your mind or do you want to watch this new show in silence?", he wondered, pointing the remote at the TV.

"I don't want to talk about it, not now anyway", you grumbled, finding your perfect position as you laid against your bestfriend, his arm going around your shoulders as you snuggled your legs under the blanket.

The new show ended up involving a romantic couple which only heightened your feelings. Lately, it was all you could see. Everyone around you seemed to have something romantic going on and they were happy with it. One of your friends was even convinced that she would be proposed to within the next few months, and you were single. Soon enough after you entered these thoughts, they pulled you to questions like why won't people love me? why am I single? what is it that doesn't attract people to me? and the one that you had yet to find a proper answer to, the list becoming too long for your own good am I unlovable?

"Can we watch something else, please?", you asked after debating for a few minutes wether or not you should interrupt, "I'm sorry, but I'm not enjoying it that much", you mumbled.

"That's okay, Y/N, I'll just put on one of our reruns", he smiled, changing the streaming platform and looking for the square on the screen, "if you want to just lay here, that's fine, too", he encouraged.

"At least I'm not alone with my thoughts", you mumbled again, looking at the ceiling as Lando moved his neck to join you, "I'm not sure what you mean, but I'm here for you anyway", he squeezed your hand that found its way to his own.

"It's just, - I've been reflecting? I don't even know if that's the word, but I've been feeling lonely", you blurted, still unsure if you were voicing all of it.

Lando hummed, urging you to continue, "like, I'm craving to have somebody there for me, someone who I know is in my corner, who I feel totally comfortable with. My brother was telling me all about the stuffed bunny his girlfriend asked him to take care off! I want that with someone", you pouted.

Lando tensed, rearranging his position on the sofa to look at you softly as you kept looking at his white ceiling.

"Maybe I should be less opinionated, less vocal about what I think and feel", you mused.

You'd lose your essence, Lando thought as he heard you rant on and on about the traits you wanted to change about yourself.

"Changing something physical is harder, but maybe I can change that, right? Be a bit quieter with what I say, measure my opinions, say yes and agree with things more", you shrugged, shaking the whole thing off of your body, wanting to rid yourself of the thought, "I can't, I won't be able to do that, they'd notice it straight away", you sighed.

As the night went on, Lando quickly changing the subject, you spoke about anything that came to mind until you looked at your watch, "Fuck, it's so late, I have to go", you stood up quickly, bending to pick your slippers up from the floor when he stopped you, "stay in the guest bedroom for tonight. Sleep here", he tried.

"Is it because I said I was lonely? I was just venting it out, you don't need to worry about me being a loner", you tried your best to assure it.

"No, you muppet. I'm doing it because I don't like the idea of you having to drive all the way back at this time of night", he reasoned, getting up himself and walking with you to the guest bedroom.

"Is this still made from the last time I was here?", you wondered, looking at the sheets.

"I made it before you came here! And I've washed the sheets, thank you very much. You have a fresh bed to sleep on", he smiled charmingly.

"Thanks", you smiled back, grabbing the clothes you usually wore to sleep when you stayed over from the drawer, "those have been washed, too", he pointed, "if you need anything, I'm in my usual spot", he winked, "Good night, Y/N, sleep tight!".

"Thanks for this", you gestured, "Good night, Lando", you said before he saluted you playfully, closing the door behind him.

Using the ensuite for your night routine, you changed into the shorts and Lando's t-shirt, noticing that all of the washes had made it smell less of his cologne and more of the scented fabric softener he uses.

The t-shirt fit snug against your hips, embracing your curvy body as you got under the sheets, letting the weight of them lull you to sleep and slow down your thoughts.

.

Lando was driving to a restaurant he knew well enough. He had had a few dates there before, one team dinner and a few family birthdays too whenever they were in town.

But right now, he was picking you up. From a date that apparently wasn't going well since he got a text from you asking him to pick you up.

"Hey, gorgeous girl", he said once he opened the car window as he parked in front of the restaurant, thankful that it wasn't too busy and no one seemed to notice or care that he was there.

"Thanks for picking me up", you mumbled as you sat down, pulling on your seatbelt and nothing your bestfriend's gaze on you, silently questioning you.

"He was an asshole", you explained, "kept asking me if I was sure of what I was doing, if I knew any Formula One drivers - don't worry, didn't out anything - and then he just kept being rude to me, to the waiter, who was wonderful by the way".

"I didn't mean him. I don't care about him, I care about you", Lando said, driving back to his place, assuming you'd want to have someone close by that wouldn't ask too many questions.

"It was just another one where it didn't go well", you mumbled, letting your head rest on the window and looking out at the lights illuminating the city.

"Do you want to go to my place?", Lando asked, knowing you wouldn't want to be pushed about the subject, "yes, please", you said.

As soon as you got inside his place, you took your shoes off, walking up to the spare bedroom to leave your bag in there, "thank you for picking me up, you're the best, Lando", you smiled as you rested against the door frame.

"No worries, okay? Sleep tight, I have good plans for tomorrow so this will be out of your mind", he smiled a small one.

"Night night, Lando", you said back, closing the door behind you and letting the tears finally fall.

It was horrible. The way he treated other people should have been the first clue and red flag, but somehow it still surprised you how he conducted the whole date. You weren't expecting a prince or a gentleman, but you expected human decency and it turns out you were not afforded that. He kept leaving snarky comments about his exes. He was rude, sexist and definitely not your type, and after splitting the bill, you informed him that someone would come to pick you up.

Could someone be unlovable? Not worthy of love to the point where anyone they attracted to their presence just wasn't a match and they had to be content with the bare minimum?

Splashing some water on your face and wiping it with the towel, you took one good look in the mirror. It looks like it's going to be you for a while, so you might as well get used to it, Y/N.

.

When morning rolled around, Lando was the first to wake up, getting ready and heading to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for the two of you. He wanted to make something special, because even though you had your tough shell on yesterday, he knew you were feeling it deeply and painfully.

This quest of yours was doing you more harm than good. And it wasn't helping him either. For a few years, Lando figured, he has loved you. At first, it wasn't a clear sentiment. You were best friends, obviously there was a deeper connection. But then it felt so much all the time, there was never a break for the butterflies on his stomach or for the jealous green eyed monster whenever you so much as mentioned anyone else. He wouldn't dare say it, but he's so glad your date last night sucked.

As he prepared your coffee, your footsteps approached, "Good morning", you croaked out. You looked like you hadn't slept well, which Lando figured was a given considering the heard you move a lot during the night.

"Good morning, I made this for you. The balcony had nice sunlight right now, I figured you'd enjoy breakfast there", he attempted, bringing a small smile to your lips as you thanked him for the mug, "I'll bring the rest shortly", he called.

As you looked out to the always busy streets, you took in their quickness and rush. How it was all fleeting and momentary.

Lando placed the tray on the table, arranging it so you both could reach everything.

"I heard you crying last night", he began, his fist clenched at the memory as he sat down.

"I'm fine", you shrugged.

"I don't think you are, and I don't want you to suffer, Y/N", he insisted, unusually bold considering he knew which territory he was stepping into.

"It's not easy to come to terms with the fact that I'm single and that it might look like that for a bit, and who even knows how long that 'bit' might actually be", you chuckled, looking at him expecting his understanding gaze but being face with furrowed brows instead along with a scoff. "What? It's not like I'm being unreasonable, I'm just stating the facts", you squinted.

"That's not how it works, and you know that Y/N", he sternly spoke, straightening his back and facing you completely.

It was your time to laugh and scoff a little, "unless something changes within me, I'm sure this is how I'll find myself in the foreseeable", you shock your head.

"All of those things you want to change about yourself? Or that you say you should change to make you more likeable and lovable? That's dimming your light and your spark", Lando bit back, having had enough of it, "if someone loved you after all of those changes, they wouldn't love you for who you are, they would love a fabricated version of you. You're not unlovable", he smiled at the irony of it all. How after all these years, he still hadn't plucked up the courage to tell you how he felt about you.

"How can you say that when you have everyone falling at your feet? Women see you and they're ready to have anything you'll give them! You don't have to change who you are because someone made you feel like you couldn't be loved because of who you are and what you do!", you bit back, sensing a tone in him that was unusual and certainly not comfortable.

“I just need to know who the fuck told you you don’t deserve to be loved, because I’m about to beat their asses up", Lando called, elbows supported on the chair's arms as he looked at you.

"No one's ever told me, I'm probably the one saying it to myself, the rest of the people just make me feel like I'm unlovable, so if you want to hit me, I would prefer you didn't, I bruise quite easily", you tried to joke, not wanting to let your mind wander to the parallel utopian reality where your bestfriend feels the same way about you.

"Then it's all the people that made you feel unloved", Lando said, "none of them deserved a second of your attention, but I can give them a second of mine just for that".

“That’s a lot of people you’re gonna have to beat up, then, and I’m not sure if I want to bail you out of jail for that. We can't all have full bank accounts like yours", you joked again, watching him as he kept on with the subject.

"Stop joking about this! I'm being serious with you, Y/N! You deserve all of the love in the world - and even that wouldn't be enough!", he got up.

“Please, I think we have both realised and reached the conclusion that maybe I’m just not meant to be loved", you added.

“That’s bullshit if I’ve heard of any! No one’s not meant to be loved. There’s someone out there for you, and I think I’ve made it clear that, if it’s really not anyone else, then that someone’s me”, he stopped in front of you. There it was. Out in the open for everyone to hear. His balcony was covered and closed, something he was grateful about as he confessed his love for you.

"You can't joke about this", it was your turn to mention it, getting up as he took your hand in his.

"I'm not, Y/N, I'm really not", he whispered, resting his forehead in yours.

"Kiss me", you pleaded. He was quick to comply to your request, hand cupping your cheek as he tasted the bitter coffee from your lips and felt you unravel to him in a way he didn't think was possible anymore.

"I have loved you for so long, Lando", you whispered once you pulled away for air, "and I couldn't imagine a world where anyone would love me back, let alone you", you admitted, looking into his beautiful orbs.

"You don't have to make any effort to imagine it anymore, baby. I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere. You're so loved and I'll be damned if I don't show you how much everyday of our lives", he smiled, kissing your lips again as your hands travelled to his messy curls.

[letterlitter]

Blanket Warm

Lando Norris x F1 academy driver reader

Wordcount: 1k

Tags: fluff

•in which you become unwell after a racing accident and Lando is determined to take care of you.

"Two weeks off the track. Start physiotherapy on week two, then come back to see me. Hopefully you'll be back to racing in no time." The team's doctor smiled and handed you your prescription, along with a paper that said you had to rest and weren't in a condition to race.

Now you were at home all day, trying to keep yourself busy but there wasn't much to be done. Only if you'd been more careful during testing for the F1 academy. The crash wasn't that hard and it didn't ruin the car's livery much, but it sent it spinning several times to finally hit the wall, causing you to strain a neck muscle quite hard. You were okay during the check up, but how you tumbled around whith every step after getting out of bed the next morning scared you.

Lando, who had ran after you to keep you from falling, insisted to drive you to the doctor when the dizziness didn't get better after a couple of hours like you had said to convince him it's nothing. So there you were, having nowhere to go and nothing to do. Thankfully the F1 season hadn't started yet, so you and Lando had the house all to yourself after the briefing session he had to attend. Except, this was no regular holiday.

---****---

"No no, you need to sit down." Lando told you as he pulled you to the couch when he saw you stumbling while trying to make dinner. "I'll take care of things."

"Lando you can't cook" you smiled sarcastically, "I can do it."

Lando gave you a sassy side eye, "what did you say?"

"Well can you? Cook?"

He stood in a defeated silence and finally replied "okay I can't. But I can carry myself. I've got the internet and everything."

You sighed in disagreement.

"Come on babe. I am not letting you do anything. I may not be able to cook but no offence, you're not able to stand straight."

You bit the inside of your cheeks to hide your laughter.

"If you want to get better and go back soon, you have to listen to the doctor."

He waited and stared at you until you agreed. You couldn't resist those ocean blue puppy eyes anyway. And he was correct.

"Alright." You sighed, "but I will sit in the kitchen and tell you what to do."

"Oh no you won't." Lando stood up and pulled your arm to himself, threw it over his shoulder and lifted your body off the couch like firemen do; Making you squeak in surprise, "you're not doing anything but rest sweetheart. Let's get you to bed."

He finally put you on the bed, tucked you in, and you could tell moving you up the stairs was a little bit of a workout for his tiny, F1 driver arms. He didn't complain and you didn't either. It made your heart warm to see how he cared about your well being and the lengths he would go to to make sure you were alright. You were willing to do the same for him any day.

"Get some more sleep. I'll come and wake you up when everything's ready okay?"

Lando responded to your under breath "whatever you say" with a kiss on the forehead and left you to the silence of the room.

When you woke up two hours later, the smell of fried beef and cheese had came up all the way to your room. Surprisingly, it didn't smell as if something was burned or nasty.

Lando walked in all of a sudden with a big tray, pushing the door open with his back,

"Oh shit you're awake." He went right back out, making you laugh.

He came back empty handed and stood right next to your bed.

"Madam..." he helped you sit up eventhough you were capable of doing so yourself. Your head wasn't that dizzy but he still wanted to make sure everything is well.

Lando, who had wrapped a napkin around his waist stood infront of you like a waiter, "now that you are awake my dear lady, dinner will be served." He went back out and grabbed the tray he had left on the floor.

"I couldn't do a longer intro I was afraid it would get cold." And he put the tray on the bed beside you. He had made lasagna.

"Oh wow. Very well executed sir." You wanted to go along with the theme he started.

"Than you madam. Hopefully you'll like it. First..." he handed you the wet towel he had brought. He knew you hated eating before washing your hands and face after you wake up.

"Let's see." You lifted your fork and started slicing the piece.

"Hmmm, this is great Lando."

He smiled with satisfaction. You had never complimented him on his cooking before.

"It's a bit salty to be fair but how the hell did you do this?"

"My mom, a really long video call, many many dirty dishes and one broken one."

You smiled. It was the best you could ask for. Your boyfriend who cares for you, your house you could rest in, and so much comfort. Your life had been passing on such a fast track lately that you couldn't step back to appreciate the little things that were yours. This injury, how frustrating it was, had made you realize how grateful you are for the people who love you.

"What about you?" You said with you mouth half full.

"Oh I have tasted everything so many damn times I am completely full. No no really, that's all yours. My mom kept asking me to describe the taste for her like it's a competition."

You laughed "Well. I think you have won."

"I don't think you would say that if you saw what's going on downstairs."

---****---

The next 10 days went by really quickly. You were trying to get better and Lando was doing his best to keep your dizzy head entertained.

He would help you get dressed, tie your shoes, brush your hair and sit down on the couch to watch a movie with you. He would make you hot chocolate and give you your medication; and when the physiotherapy was due, he would message your neck gently like the doctor had taught him. He kept making you food and finally agreed to get some help from you when he almost burned down the kitchen.

And all he replied when you thanked him was "anything for my girl."

You finally reached full recovery a little sooner than two weeks. The doctor told you "everything seems in place. You must've had quite a good rest."

"I had a good care taker." You replied, looking at your boyfriend with a loving smile.

He really, really was one.

[sansaorgana]

Ok but Buck getting jealous or riled up from a British Air Force trying to get at his gal 👀

EDIT: I've just realized I totally misread this and didn't notice it's about BRITISH Air Force sdfghjkl; I hope you forgive me 🤣 I'm an idiot, I swear to God. feel free to send it again so I'll write another one!!!

hi, babe 🧸 thank you for your request 💗 Buck and reader are in America while this short fic takes place. let's say he got a few weeks off to spend at home 🏡

i currently have 2 more requests in my inbox but i was busy watching the bear today and now i have a slight migraine so i'll deal with them tomorrow, sorry xx

my inbox is open for blurb/short fic requests for major cleven 🤗

"What are you thinking of, doll?" his deep voice made you look up and blink a few times like you couldn't believe that he was there; back in your arms, so close and so warm. You were slow dancing together with Buck for the past half an hour but you couldn't focus on the moment even though you knew you should. He wasn't back for good. Not yet.

"You've only a few missions left," you bit on your lower lip and he chuckled before leaning in to look deep into your eyes.

"Aw, don't think 'bout it, babe. I left it behind for a few weeks, yes?" he pecked your lips and you tried to smile. "Come on, why the long face?"

"I'm sorry," you sniffled back the tears forming in the corners of your eyes and shook your head.

"Makes me think you're not happy to see me back in town," he teased and spun you around gently before pressing you close to him again. "What? Won't be able to see a loverboy for a while?"

"Don't be stupid, Buck. There ain't no loverboy but you," you chuckled finally and pushed him softly.

"There better not be 'cause I'd have to fix his face right."

"Sure thing, big man," you gave him a wide smile and cupped his face to caress his cheeks. You loved seeing your hands on him. You especially loved seeing your engagment ring on your finger. "You look so handsome in that suit, Cleven."

"That's Major Cleven for you, big mouth," he winked at you and you pulled a face to make him laugh.

"Fetch me something to drink, will you, Major Cleven?" you leaned in to kiss his cheek and asked. "All that dancing made me thirsty."

"Yes, ma'am," he nodded and walked you back to the table that had been occupied by you two before. He grabbed his cap to put it back on his head and approached the bar.

In the meantime, you opened your purse and tried to find a compact mirror with the powder to fix your shining nose and forehead. You didn't notice that some man stood above you. When you were done with your looks, you closed the mirror with a loud pop sound and you almost jumped in your seat at the sound of a tall dark-haired guy that kept staring at you.

"Excuse me?" you asked and looked him up and down. He was wearing a suit like your Buck but he was no Major.

"Um, I'm sorry, I've just noticed a beautiful girl sitting here all by herself and… I thought that, well, uh, I'mma fix that, perhaps…?" he took his cap off and squeezed it nervously with one of his hands as his other one went behind his head to scratch it awkwardly.

"And you are…?" you tried not to laugh at him. He was kind of adorable in that.

"Um… Sergeant… Sergeant Tommy Smith, miss," he introduced himself.

"Sergeant?" you raised an eyebrow. "Have you been to Europe already?"

"No, miss, no, I… I am going soon… It's my last few weeks before I go," he explained and you could see sweat forming upon his forehead. "Can I… Can I perhaps sit down?" he proposed, probably not realizing how bold it was. But he looked like he was about to faint any given moment.

"Sure thing, honey," you moved a little to give him a spot next to you but you tried to find Buck amongst the crowd. You couldn't see him, though, which was no surprise because the place was full of people – airmen, soldiers and their sweethearts... or girls hoping to become sweethearts soon.

"You're so… So kind, miss," Tommy nodded his head at you as he sat next to you. "What are you doing here all alone?"

"Who said I was alone?" you smiled at him and he blushed. "Oh, don't worry, he's not the beating up kind, my man."

Tommy seemed to sigh with relief but then his eyes widened at the sight of someone standing behind you.

"Is… Is that him?"

"Oh, honey, he's not scary at all, my man, he's…" you started with a chuckle but then you turned around and you saw the man that Tommy had been referring to.

It wasn't Buck. He was huge, enormous even. You've never seen an uniform so tight on the muscles like that. And he was tall as well. Wearing sunglasses inside at night type of guy. He was handsome, oh yes, he was. But he had this aura around him as if he had thought that the whole wolrd revolved around him. He was also an airman and he was chewing gum arrogantly.

"Is that kid bothering you, love?" he asked.

"Um… No," you shook your head and tried to find Buck desperately with your eyes but there was still no sight of him. "Not at all," you added.

"I'll g-go now…" Tommy stood up to leave quietly.

"No, don't leave me…" you tried to plead in a whisper but he put his cap back on and disappeared as quickly as he appeared.

So, now you were left with the big guy.

"Finally. These new ones are like pests," he sighed and sat next to you without asking for permission.

"Excuse me…?" you squealed but he only laughed and took his sunglasses off to take a better look at you.

"Why so scared, gorgeous?" he grinned showing off a set of pearly white teeth.

"Care to at least give me your name?" you asked, trying to move as far away as possible while staying discreet.

"Let's say you're about to find out later that night when you're gonna scream it, sugar," he winked at you and you almost gagged.

"Oh, I do believe I already have a name to scream," you stated, deciding that perhaps being as vulgar as him would make him finally get the message. But that was not the case.

"That guy's?" he laughed. "That kid's?"

"No," you shook your head and looked around but Buck wasn't coming.

"Something tells me you're bluffing me, little one," he leaned in and you took a deep breath in, trying to calm yourself down.

"Why would I?" you raised your hand to show him your ring. He hummed and whistled at it.

"Nice piece, baby. But it can mean anything," he insisted. "I think you're just playing hard to get, am I right, sweetheart?"

"Please, I am not interested," you shook your head as he was trying to put his arm around you.

"Why not? You seemed to be interested in the other guy and he was a fucking nobody."

"He was kind… And he wasn't pushy," you tried to get away as he was moving closer and closer.

"What's your name, by the way, sugar?" the man asked.

"Her name is Mrs. Gale Cleven," Buck's familiar, deep and warm voice made you look up as you smiled through the tears of humiliation.

He was standing above you with a drink in his hand and he looked oh-so-pissed like you've never seen him before.

"Shit, man, you mean she's married to that Major Cleven?" the big man let go of you and stood up immediately, grabbing his sunglasses from the table. "Thanks for the heads up, dude. And you are…?"

"Major Gale Cleven, dude," Buck answered angrily and you watched how the creep's smile dropped instantly.

"Oh, there's… There's been some misunderstanding, Major, I… There was a young Sergeant bothering your wife and I…" he started to stutter.

Buck looked at you now and you knew that he wasn't angry at you but his intense bright eyes still caused a chill go down your spine.

"Is that true?" he asked.

"There was a young Sergeant talking to me, I invited him to sit with me. He was friendly," you nodded. "I did not require saving as far as I am concerned… You, on the other hand," you looked at the scared big guy, "you were far from polite and you didn't treat me like a lady at all."

Buck put the glass down loudly in front of you and stared at the guy with contempt as the muscles of his jaw twitched.

"Let's take it outside," he proposed as your eyes widened. Buck was never the type to start a bar fight or anything of that sort. And as much as you believed in your brave Major, you didn't want him to fight that huge man.

"Buck, honey," you stood up to put a hand on his chest, "let him go, he's just drunk. He's not worth getting in trouble."

"I'm sorry Major, I didn't mean to be rude to your wife, sir," the man saluted.

"You only apologize because you know she's my wife. Otherwise you'd keep bothering her," Buck squinted his eyes.

"No, sir."

"Yes, Lieutenant, now get the fuck out of here."

"Sir, yes, sir!" the man saluted for the last time before walking away as fast as possible.

"Buck!" you pushed him gently as your jaw dropped. "Where did you learn such language?"

He didn't answer, however. He sat down, took his cap off and ran his fingers through his hair. You could see his hands shaking from restraining himself. You decided to give him a moment so you just sat down as well and sipped on your drink.

"Thanks for the coke, baby," you whispered eventually.

"You're welcome. The queue was long, sorry 'bout that."

"Oh, no need to be sorry," you caressed his tense arm. "Buck, you're okay?"

"Yeah, um, no," he looked up to meet your gaze and you furrowed your brow. He took your left hand and caressed your knuckles. "We should get married for real."

"I know, baby," you smiled widely, "when you come back to me for good, yes?"

"No, now," he insited all of sudden in a serious tone. "What if I don't come back for good?"

"Oh, don't say that! You've only a few missions left and… And this is supposed to ensure that you come back! God won't let you die when he knows you've a marriage to look forward to!"

"I want you to be safe if I don't come back," he didn't listen to you. "You'll have more privileges as a widow."

"Why are you bringing this up?!" you could feel tears forming in your eyes. "You were the one to tell me to stop thinking about it."

"But that jerk made me realize a thing or two, alright? Shh… Shh…" he cupped your face and kissed you. "Don't you want to be Mrs. Gale Cleven for real, sweetheart?"

"I… I do," you chuckled and nodded.

"God," he sighed and pecked your lips one more time, "thinking of you wearing my surname makes me dizzy more than any turbulence I've ever had to deal with."

"Just you wait and see, Major," you laughed through the tears, "being married to me will be the worst turbulence you'll ever experience."

"I hope that's a promise, doll."

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

[phillydilly]

Priorities

⊹♡— In which Charles and his long distance girlfriend get into an argument over her priorities

Part 1 , Part 2

Charles Leclerc x fem!reader

Warnings: arguing, angst

Charles had been counting down the days until his planned trip to London to visit his girlfriend, Y/n. They had been in a long-distance relationship for a while, and every moment together was cherished. Charles had meticulously planned the weekend, envisioning romantic strolls through Hyde Park and candlelit dinners at their favorite restaurants.

As Charles sat in the bustling Nice airport, his excitement was palpable. The engine-like roar of the airplanes outside seemed to echo his racing heartbeats. He checked his watch, anticipating the moment when he would finally board the flight to London.

Meanwhile, Y/n, a dedicated business manager at a prestigious firm in London, had been juggling her hectic work schedule with the anticipation of Charles's visit. She had managed to free up her weekend, or so she thought, ensuring that they would have quality time together.

Just as Charles was about to board the plane, Y/n's name flashed on his phone's screen. He smiled and answered, expecting her warm and excited voice on the other end. But the voice that greeted him was strained and filled with regret.

"Charles," Y/n began, her tone hesitant, "I have some bad news."

His heart sank as he clutched the phone tighter, "What's wrong, amour? Are you okay?"

Y/n sighed, "I've just been told that I have back-to-back meetings scheduled for the entire weekend. I can't believe it, but I won't be able to do any of the fun things you had planned."

Charles's excitement turned to frustration, and he couldn't hide his disappointment. "You knew I was coming, Y/n. We've been looking forward to this for weeks. How can you let work take precedence over us?"

Y/n's voice quivered, "It's not that simple, Charles. I have commitments, and my job is important. You know that."

Frustration simmered in Charles's voice, "I understand your job is important, but so is our relationship, Y/n. I've been looking forward to this weekend for so long, and now you're telling me it's all off?"

Y/n tried to explain, "I tried to rearrange my schedule, but these meetings are critical. I can't just bail on them."

Charles clenched his jaw, struggling to keep his emotions in check. "So, what? I just drive back to Monaco and pretend like everything's fine?"

Y/n's voice trembled with guilt, "No, Charles, please. We can still spend time together in the evenings after my meetings. It won't be the weekend we planned, but we can make the most of it."

Charles felt a wave of frustration wash over him. He had been looking forward to this weekend with Y/n, a break from the high-speed world of Formula 1. "I can't believe you're doing this, Y/n. I thought we meant more to each other than this."

Tears welled up in Y/n's eyes as she pleaded, "Charles, please try to understand. I never wanted this to happen, but sometimes work just takes over. I love you, and I want to make this work."

Charles, his patience wearing thin, snapped, "Love isn't just words, Y/n. It's actions. And right now, your actions are telling me that work comes before us. I'll talk to you later." With that, he hung up the phone, his anger boiling over.

He walked away from the gate, his luggage in hand, and returned to his car. Charles sat in the driver's seat, tears threatening to stream down his face. The frustration and disappointment he felt were overwhelming. He had been so excited about spending time with Y/n, and now it felt like a dream shattered.

As he drove away from the airport, Charles's mind was a whirlwind of emotions. The engine's roar provided a stark contrast to the turmoil in his heart. He had never expected such a turn of events. Y/n had always been understanding of his career's demands, but now it seemed like she was prioritizing her work over their relationship.

Hours passed, and Charles's tears had given way to a deep sadness. He replayed the argument in his head, wondering if he had been too harsh on Y/n. He loved her deeply, and he didn't want to lose her, but she had really hurt him. He knew he himself wasn’t always available, but they had planned this for weeks, he felt that his frustration was justified.

Back in London, Y/n sat in her office, tears streaming down her face. She had never seen Charles so angry and hurt. She knew she had let him down, but the demands of her job were relentless. She had hoped he would understand, but now she feared she might have pushed him away.

Unable to focus on her work, Y/n picked up her phone and dialed Charles's number. It went straight to voicemail. She left a heartfelt message, "Charles, I'm so sorry for everything. Please, let's talk this through. I love you more than anything."

[tarjapearce]

I’m missing Miguel ((and spider family)) more recently 💔 and just thinking of him going on a business trip where he gets more busy and barely being able to talk or text you ((which makes you sad)) :(( he isn’t home until a week but that’s when he decided to work harder and do all nighters to finish early and get home to you and the little spiders :((

Timeskip to him coming home early without telling you about it, silently walking into the house without making any noise. Kids are at school during the time he arrives. Quietly going into the bedroom knowing you’re taking your noon nap. He carefully lays besides you and wraps his arms around to try and at least not to wake you up but fails 😭 ☹️ you’re up and happy to see him telling him he isn’t supposed come until the next week. 💔

Bonus: He surprises Gabby and Benji while picking them up from school 😭

Welcome Back, Papa!

Had a lil strength to come up with this 🥹. I'm sorry, I'm in dire need of fluff after this week 😭.

Warnings: None. Just Fluff, Slice of life, Domesticity, Dad Miguel ~

It was times like these Miguel sometimes regretted taking that promotion as a lead scientist and manager in Alchemax Lab's department. No project came without his approval, his knowledge was highly valued among the multinational.

But that meant more responsibilities, which sometimes demanded his presence  outside Nueva York, hold meetings and even give some workshops to younger scientists entering the company.

His reluctance finally was brought down when you saw him brooding in his office, nursing his temple as he looked through some files. Lab coat still on.

What started as a little tease and joking, ended up in a honest talk.

He couldn't help but chuckle faintly at your attempt to light the mood.

"Hey..." You cupped his face and kissed his temple, "Work is work. They want  you there cause you're the smartest cookie in the pack."

"Besides... I'll manage. Don't worry okay?"

"Hard to not when Benjamin just came out from a cold and fever"

You sat next to him, taking his hand in yours.

"Look, mi amor. We'll be fine. I know this won't be the first nor the last time you'll get sent away to another branch. Of course we'll miss you."

His shoulders slumped. He had tried to delay as much as he could this responsibility, but unavoidably as it was, he had to go, for three weeks.

He'd be gone for twenty one days, deprived of you and his family. Gabi gave him a squeeze upon noticing him in the blues, same as Benjamin, Rosie was fussy; as if sensing trouble, but eventually got to sleep.

"We're not going anywhere, okay? We'll videochat every night, I'll call you in your lunch breaks, and when you return"

You smooched him and grinned, "We'll have all the fun you want."

"Oh really?"

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer to him as he sunk his face in your neck. Taking a deep inhale, as if memorizing your scent. He hadn't left yet and was already missing you.

"Yeah. Will wear that red lace set you love-"

Your sentence was left hanging as a squeal replaced it. He peppered your face and lips with his kisses, to then rest at your temple.

"If something happens, you call me. Entendido?" (Understood?)

"Yes sir."

-----

The hardest thing he had to do that morning was kissing you all goodbye, but the sooner he got there, he'd pour himself to work, and finish it all soon so he could return to his awaiting family.

"Love you so much. Help your mom while I'm gone, okay, champ?" Benjamin nodded teary eyed, "I'll be back soon okay?" Miguel kissed Gabi's and Rosie's temple, and finally kissed you.

"Call me." He instructed before going away

"Bye Papa!"

"Nos vemos, campeón! Pórtense bien!" (See you, champ, be good!)

"Adiós, Pa!"

He waved off to Gabi.

And an hour later you'd get a text from him.

Ya te extraño, mi reina.

This made your heart bloom with warmth. These two weeks would definitely be torture without him, but with a great power, came a great responsibility.

Soon you'll have him all to yourself again. But right now, all you could do was to hug a heartbroken Benji.

"He'll be back soon, mi amor. I promise."

Benjamin just nodded and followed Gabriella inside as Rosie stared at you.

"I know you want your Papa to sing to you before bed, but you'll have to put up with me, princesita."

Rosie cooed but smiled. Her lovely eyes raked over your face, as you took her inside.

----

Miguel's absence had started to seep through you all. It was bittersweet to call him, seeing him but being unable to touch or talk to him properly, to then hang up and see everyone's faces all glum.

You tried to keep them busy, Gabriella helped you around with Rosie or the house keeping, and so did Benjamin.

After the first three nights, the both had surprised you by joining you on bed. Gabriella had seen you cry as you folded the laundry. It didn't help that you were on your period, making a mess out of your hormones and emotions.

"We miss him too, Mama."

Rosie had her crib in your room, Benjamin cuddled you on the right, and Gabriella to your left, holding you by your waist.

"I know, Solecito. Just a couple of weeks more and we'll have your dad back."

"I don't like it when Papa leaves." Benjamin mumbled and you kissed his head as your hands caressed Gabi's hair.

"I don't like it either, but he is a busy man, mi amor. " 

His little hands hogged the sheets.

"What does he do anyway?"

This made you chuckle. Benjamin wasn't used to see Miguel in his work clothes.

"Dad is a scientist, Benji. He, uh, creates things." Gabriella explained while rubbing her eyes, sleepily.

"A dentist?!" You chuckled

"No, mi amor. A scientist"

"I thought Papa was a doctor"

"He is. But not the kind of doctor that you see at hospitals. Imagine being in a laboratory, and there is alot of people there. Your Papa works with them so we can have new things."

"Like?" He yawned

"New vaccines, medicines, that sort of stuff"

"Can you ask him to make medicines that tastes like my nuggies?"

This pulled a genuine laugh off your chest, your baby boy followed.

"Let me ask him tomorrow."

-----

There wasn't a day that you all weren't in his mind. At first he grew anxious, knowing how difficult it was to handle a whole household on your own.

He'd send text often, asking about you, or the kids. You'd send him pictures of them doing different activities or sleeping. And sometimes to keep him motivated, you'd send him a couple of pictures or videos of yourself.

He missed you. That was sure, he missed your hair tickling his nose and trapping his face in it. Your huggable body he relished spooning onto, you welcoming home with the calm he needed after a hectic day and his kids being annoyingly adorable. He missed you all.

The kids and your saddened yet understanding face were enough for him to work hard every day, by pulling all nighters to have his didactic material and reports done. By the end of the week, he was tired enough, to just return to his hotel room and crash, absolutely quanked after hours of meetings, holed up in labs and audiroriums.

But it granted him the outcome he was looking for. With a couple of talks to an old friend of his, Xina, Miguel rearranged the whole scheduled activities to finish the workshops in a week, leaving him completely free for the next one. He had everything done for the other scientists and managers in charge.

They saw no reason to keep him longer than they should, so they let Miguel go.

He spent the whole day sleeping, recharging, he didn't call you that night, which worried you, but you knew how Alchemax got whenever they needed him.

Hope everything is going fine. Te amo.

----

As soon as the alarm hit five am, he checked out the room and drove back home. If his calculations were correct, he'd be there in a couple of hours.

The need of seeing you and his family after two weeks away. He couldn't have another. He needed you.

He needed your kisses, Gabriella's joy and jokes, Benjamin's odd questions and Rosie's laugh. And he needed them now.

After long hours of driving a familiar neighborhood came into view, and soon his home came into sight. Clock ticked three pm, meaning you'd be asleep with Rosie.

He parked the car, got his stuff out and closed the door. Heart beating a mile per second, it reminded him of the first time you came to his home, to watch a movie, without knowing it'd be the night you'd kiss and seal your forever deal.

Thrill ran through his body as he quietly opened the main door and put his things on the couch. He wasted no time and came up the stairs, and pushed the ajar door open. A relieved yet breathless sigh escaped his mouth upon watching you.

Curled up in the middle, cuddling his pillow, hugging it.

For a second, he'd scowl at the pillow as it was so lucky to have you just thw way he liked. But no object would replace him.

No object could hug you and love you the way he did. With slow and silent strides, he kneeled on the mattress, dipping it's surface with his weight to then lay next to you.

His shoulders slumped as he wrapped his arms around you. Fingertips roaming and exploring, as if he was discovering you for the first time again. You were real and his. He was there, with you, breathing the same air.

His face sunk in your hair, lovely strands caressed his face, just the way he had missed. Sweet aroma oozed from your skin, heartbeats calming down enough from their frenzy. He was home.

Eyes raked over your sleepy form, and he couldn't help but kiss your cheek, your temple and the corner of your lips.

The latter stirred you awake. For a moment he regretted waking you up, but guiltiness flew out the window when you stared at him like the first time he said he loved you. Wide eyed, blinking almost stupidly at him but oh so full of joy.

Your arms immediately went around him as he kissed you. Lips crashing on yours with such hunger he fumbled.

"Mi reina" he breathed before squeezing you into his broad chest, peppering your face and lips in kisses, mumbling I love you's and I missed you's so much in between them.

"Mi amor" His heart fluttered as yours came in tandem with it. "I thought you weren't coming until next week"

He shook his head, cupping your face in his hands, delivering you a final and loving kiss.

"Couldn't do it. I was missing you too much."

"We've been missing you too, the kids have been making me company."

"Yeah?" Another kiss, cause the previous thousands weren't enough.

"Yeah. Benji asked if you could make medicine taste like his Dino nuggets."

He chuckled while hoarding you in his frame.

"It's not impossible but, it's complicated.  Por Dios. No sabes cuánto me alegro de estar aquí." (By God, you have no idea how happy I am to be here)

"Not to be mean, but Gabi kicks in her sleep."

He removed a straying strand off your face, to properly admire you. Ever beautiful and radiant, like that night in Peter's carneada.

God, he loved you.

"What?" Your smile stretched further as he mimicked your lips.

"Nothing. Just thinking how... lucky I am."

Your heart melted. Your patience had rewarded you with a sweet man. He had passed from being difficult to express his feelings, to shower you in affection on a daily basis.

Public displays of affection weren't his thing, until you showed up and taught him the right ways. You had rewired his brain in such a wonderful way he'd be a liar to say if he didn't enjoy.

"Let's pick up the kids."

He offered and you nodded, already excited for the idea.

"Let's get Gabi first."

------

Rosie awoke as you drove the car, seeing her Papa made her squeal and kick her feet excitedly.

"Hola, Rosita preciosa" She cooed with a smile as Miguel winked her way.

You picked your car since you both wanted to be as sneaky as possible about it. You let Gabi know you were outside.

A couple of minutes passed when you heard the squealing outside the car as Miguel squeezed her.

"Papa!!!"

"Mi Solecito hermoso. I missed you." (My beautiful sunshine.)

"Thought you'd come next week? Never mind that. You're home!"

His princess was like the Koala to his tree built. His hands ruffled Gabi's hair to then kiss the top of her head as she laughed.

"Let's go get your brother."

"Can we have some pizza later?!"

"'Course we can."

She beamed to then hug you and get in the car.

"I'll go get Benjamin."

You walked over the pre-school area and went towards Benjamin's classroom. He was finishing a drawing and beamed when he saw you.

"Mama!"

"Hello my pretty boy"

You hugged him and kissed his cheek repeatedly, "Ready to go home?"

"Yes. Look!" He showed you the drawing, you gasped, "Look at that! You did it by yourself?"

He giggled as he put on his backpack

"Teacher helped me."

"Why, thank you, Mrs. Mackie."

Benji waved his goodbyes to his teacher and walked with you towards the entrance.

"Benji, baby."

"Yes, Mama?"

You helped him to remove the little backpack and held his drawing.

"Do you know who's that man?"

"Who?"

His eyes followed your finger and gasped when he saw Miguel

"Papa!!" He bolted towards him, curls bouncing in the way, "Papa!"

Tears begun streaming down his face as he clung to him. Miguel quickly hugged him.

"Mi campeón, te extrañé mucho" Miguel mumbled as he rubbed in soothing circles his son's back, letting him cry while Benji now clung to his neck.

"You'll make me cry for real, buddy"

Miguel held Benjamin in one arm as he used his other free hand to wipe his tears.

"I'm here okay?"

"¿Te vas a ir otra vez?" (Will you leave again?)

Miguel shook his head and kissed his boy's curly head

"No. I just returned cause your Mama told me you missed me. I had work to do but I finished early. Couldn't leave my boy like that."

You put Benjamin's things inside the car

"Wanna go get some pizza?"

Benjamin just nodded and Miguel gave him a squeeze, earning a giggle from his boy.

"Let's go then."

[owliellder]

circling back to this finally!

i'm so sorry i wasn't able to do this sooner. i was gonna write it out yesterday but i was busy surviving a tummy ache on top of a 60 hour work week.

i tried to make this super duper sweet for you. forgive me, my sweet anon 💔

ID! Leon x Pregnant! Reader

MDNI 18+

Pregnancy was more than difficult.

Day in and out you hoped your pregnancy would be easy like your friends' had been, but of course you can't always get what you want.

Dealing with everything you didn't want to happen was more than frustrating, and for the first seven months, Leon was constantly being pulled away from you to work.

However, that man was incredibly helpful when he was home, doting on you as if you'd break at the slightest breeze. The most amazing person you could ever ask for.

Swollen ankles, strong food cravings, intense mood swings, horrible morning sickness which is not limited to just the morning, and the overall struggle to perform basic tasks was hard to handle, physically and emotionally. Everything would be so much better if you just had more of Leon.

Closing in on the eight-month mark, he was finally able to take leave, those months of stressing his need to be at home with you ultimately paying off in the end.

From there, you were taken care of. Everything you asked for, you got. You wanted a large pizza at three in the morning? No problem. Need help getting your socks on in the morning? You don't even need to ask. Can you get a back massage? Is that even a question?

You were never afraid to ask Leon for anything, expect for one thing. The need for this specific thing had been growing throughout your pregnancy and you weren't really expecting it to, hoping it would simply come and go. That thing that you were dreading bringing up to him was sex.

Understandably, it was a hard topic to approach, seeing as the man would treat you like expensive china. And no matter how many times he told you, that nagging voice in the back of your head was constantly whispering negative insults about yourself; you're overweight, you're too needy, you complain too much, etc.

Thinking about asking would always lead to you crying and that freaked Leon out, immediately rushing to make sure you were okay. That really only made you cry more. He was so unbelievably sweet and kind, how could you think so low of him to say no to such a simple request like sex?

You always refused to tell him why you were crying, brushing it off as hormones or maybe you just saw a video of the cutest kitten being rescued. You'd cried over similar things, so it was easy to excuse.

Though you'd been able to ignore the urge for quite some time, you couldn't ignore it forever.

The baby had you up at odd hours of the night to waddle into the bathroom, waking Leon in the process since the guy is the lightest sleeper ever. It never failed to make you cry, apologizing for waking him, to which he would just gently shush you while helping you to and from the toilet.

After one such bathroom trip, you couldn't fall back asleep, doing your best to ignore that feeling breaking away at your composure.

"Leon? Are you still awake?" You suddenly whispered, looking away from your phone to study him for any sort of movement.

"Mm.. mhm.." He breathed in through his nose as he rolled onto his side to face you, eyes squinting from the glow of your phone. "What's up baby?"

All you could do was stare, silently working up the courage to ask. Your need was too hard to ignore now, and that deep, sleepy voice of his wasn't helping. "I-... can I ask you for something?"

Leon nodded and slowly lifted himself up, resting his head in his hand as he propped himself up with his elbow. "You don't need to ask, just let me know what you need and I'll do it. Or get it."

"You have to promise me you won't laugh, okay?" You placed your phone down on your stomach, screen side down.

Leon pursed his lips, raising an eyebrow. "I promise."

"Is it-.." You paused, running one of your hands over the top of the other nervously. You didn't really think this far ahead, so forming the question was proving difficult. "Uh.. would it be weird if I asked for sex right now..?"

His soft laugh broke the silence and that only made you even more nervous. "You said you wouldn't laugh!"

"I know, I know! I'm sorry, I just think you're funny." Leon lifted himself up so he was now sitting up next to you, scooting closer in the process. "It's not weird to ask." His voice remained low and smooth, which did help calm your nerves. If only a little.

"Are you sure it's not weird? Cause I've been having urges for months and-" You were cut off by his hand suddenly grabbing yours, stopping you from fidgeting. "You've been having urges for months? And you didn't tell me?"

The question itself was definitely not meant to come off as mean, but regardless it was bringing you close to tears, bottom lip quivering as you tried to apologize once more.

"No- hey, hey c'mon.. I would never say no to you, sweetheart." He brought his hand up to stroke you cheek, wiping a stray tear away with his thumb.

"But-" You tried again only to be cut off again. "No buts. You're perfect, I love you, and I want you." He leaned over and kissed the tip of your nose before planting a tender kiss to your lips.

You gave Leon a weak smile before you let him take off your nightgown and lay you down, lifting up a bit so he could slip his pillow underneath you to cradle the small of your back. He triple checked that you were comfortable, running his hands along the swell of your belly.

Such tender touches, such sweet kisses. This man provided you with everything you could possibly want, how did you end up so lucky?

Your underwear hasn't fit you since month six and maternity underwear felt a little constricting, so you've been going without them for awhile. Leon definitely didn't mind that.

"Wanting sex for months and never asked..." He shook his head with another soft laugh, dragging his rough hands up your body to massage your swollen breasts which made you gasp. "I'll never be able to resist you."

He squeezed your breasts and pinched your nipples, letting out sounds akin to growls as he watched your milk-filled breasts leak at his ministrations. "Been wanting to play with these since you bought those pumps. Making me jealous of them."

His gravely voice was hitting all the right spots in your brain. "Leon.. please.." You whined, biting at your bottom lip in a poor attempt to hide your increased sensitivity.

"So pretty for me. Always so beautiful." He bent over you, careful of your stomach, to bring one of your nipples into his mouth. The vibration of his moan made you cry out, hands flying into his hair. He sucked and swirled his tongue around it, eyebrows furrowed as he concentrated.

Leon pulled off with a loud pop, swallowing with a sigh before moving over to your other nipple, repeating the process over. By the time he was done taking his fill of your milk, you were a crying, drooling mess. You gave up hiding your pitiful noises as soon as you started trying.

"Tastes so good.." Leon groaned, giving both of your nipples one last harsh suck before kissing his way down your stomach to your dripping pussy.

For a brief moment you were embarrassed at the fact that you hadn't shaved, you hadn't been able to since your stomach masked the view that you needed. Yet, he said nothing but the sweetest things as he stroked through your folds with his finger, bringing it into his mouth before quickly descending between your legs.

He groaned into your cunt, lapping at your entrance and clit like it was the last thing he'd ever do. You were soaked, he couldn't just pass up getting a good taste of you.

"Fuck! Leon- ah~!" You moaned as he sucked on your clit, making sure he paid extra attention to it. He sat back on his legs with a content sigh, giving your pussy a few extra rubs with his fingers before sinking the entirety of his middle finger into you. Before you knew it, he was stretching you with two. "Couldn't fuck you without giving this neglected pussy a little extra attention.."

He was so skillful with his fingers, stretching you out like it was an art, but you were desperate to have him deep in you, aching to your core. "N-no more-.. gah.. I need more.. please Leon..."

"Yeah? You need more?" Leon cooed, thrusting his fingers in you a few more times before slowly pulling them out. "Need my cock deep in that cunt?" Feeling him grind his dick against your slick folds was torture. He knew just how badly you needed it and he *still* decided to tease you.

"Yes! Please! God, please.." Your moan fell to a whimper as he carefully pushed the tip of his dick into you, pausing for a moment to rub the tops of your thighs as they trembled with your orgasm. "Poor thing, just feels that good huh?"

One of Leon's hands on your face brought you to open your eyes again. You didn't even realize you started crying until he wiped them from your temple. You could only nod, leaning your head against his hand as he sunk deeper into you.

Once he was flush against you, you both let out a sigh, sitting still so he could caress your body. His hands felt so good against your hot skin, eyes falling back closed as he massaged your breasts for a minute.

It wasn't long before he started to thrust into you, his slow place quickly frustrating you. "Faster, Leon- ngh~.. I-.. I'm not gonna break I promise!" You whined, panting in between words.

"You're perfect." Leon wasn't going to pass up a request like that, immediately beginning to pound your sloppy cunt once his hands settled on the barely visible divots from your hips. "Feel so good around me, baby~..."

You were incredibly sensitive from already having came once and his brutal pace was bringing you close to another. He knew just what angle to hit at and just what to say to get you right back to that edge.

You felt amazing with Leon taking care of you like this. Even as your body changed, he still made you feel like the most beautiful girl in the world.

"That's it, ohhh, there ya go baby~.. Fuck that's hot.." Leon grunted as you came again, your walls clamping around him. He leaned back a bit to watch his cock disappear into your cunt as he neared his own high. "Gonna cum baby, shit, I'm gonna cum-" He spilled his seed deep inside you with a long, drawn out moan, gripping onto you tightly as his thrusts slowed to a stop.

After catching his breath, he let out an airy laugh, bending over to kiss right above your belly button before pulling out of you.

"I promised I would take care of you, didn't I?" He whispered against your skin, and you nodded with a small hum. "Right. So the next time you want me to fuck you, please don't be afraid to jump my bones."

You couldn't help but let out a laugh of your own, placing your arm over your eyes. If you knew pregnancy sex would be this good, you would've asked him ages ago.

[seventeenpins]

bloom

pairing: stepdad!joel miller x f!reader

word count: 5.8k

summary: part three of bad girl. you decide to go out on a tinder date. joel gets jealous.

warnings: joel is an asshole, stepcest, infidelity, oral sex, somnophilia (mentioned) unsafe piv, creampie, dirty talk, fingering, daddy kink, age difference (reader is late 20s, joel is mid-40s), a bit of dom/sub vibes, smidge of role reversal (really just two stubborn people being stubborn), multiple orgasms, romance almost????, joel is sad and lost and possibly in love but mainly just wants to be wanted (but is bad at talking about real things), maybe not edited as much as it ought to be--pls tell me if there are any glaring issues you notice

a/n: finally finally actually got this finished weeks after i was certain i'd be posting. thanks to @livingdeadmaria for the jealousy angle. kinda gets away from itself, but i hope very much that you enjoy. i can't begin to express how much i appreciate your thoughtful messages and comments and interactions 💕

these past few weeks had gone by in a blur and you're hyperaware of how quickly the time is passing. joel had been taking good care of you, fucking you pretty much any time your mom was out of the house, and a couple times when she wasn't.

after casually mentioning how you'd love for him to make you feel good every minute of the day, he had laughed.

"doubt you'd want me makin' ya feel good if you're not even awake to enjoy it," he'd said.

"are you kidding me? waking up to you playing with me sounds like a dream," you told him, and he stilled, swallowing deeply.

your mom would pass out heavily after a night of drinking, and when her snores started in earnest, joel would sneak into your room, lock the door, and wake you up by dragging a palm over your tits, pinching at your nipples, rubbing a finger along your pussy, all the while telling you how good you're doin', that you taste so fuckin' sweet, god you're a fuckin angel when you're sleepin', and the one that you heard him say right as you woke up with his fingers deep in your cunt and a hand on your breast, already all worked up, and you came instantly; "you'd better hush that goddamn mouth or i'll hush it for you, baby, you gotta be quiet for daddy or your momma might wake up and then daddy won't be able to make you feel good like this-"

so no, you weren't unsatisfied with your sex life. in fact, you were more than satisfied.

it scared the hell out of you.

you were waiting, you realised, for shit to hit the fan. for joel to get bored with you. to get too busy. to come to his senses.

and, after all, the summer would be over soon, and you'll be back to your usual life. getting absolutely railed by your stepdad didn't exactly seem like something that was sustainable, long-term.

the two of you had never defined this, but you decided you needed a palate cleanser. something that'd catapult you back into the real world. if you ended up with a disappointing hookup, so be it. most hookups were, and the pornographically cinematic sex you were having with joel couldn't last forever. hell, you expected him to file for divorce any day now, and the likelihood of having any kind of relationship after he'd gone for good seemed very low indeed.

and so you decided that it was unhealthy to focus on only one person, especially when monogamy had never suited you, and the one person just so happened to be your stepdad.

you'd never deleted tinder but you couldn't remember the last time you'd opened the app. at this point, you'd convinced yourself you kept it because you thought of it as a kind of sociological study -- you endured because it meant you got to examine the extremes of human behavior and it was absolutely fucking fascinating.

so you scrolled aimlessly, appreciating the change in the pool of people that was your hometown, but quickly cursing yourself when you saw that a former student teacher of yours had just super liked you. horrifying.

you stared at your phone screen--swiping left on almost everyone, adjusting your filters to include ages 25-50, and feeling wholeheartedly disappointed at what tinder had to offer--until one face popped up. you'd almost swiped left by default, but stopped yourself just in time.

it's your old high school boyfriend, connor. not your first. not your last. but the most serious you'd had throughout high school, and definitively one of the best sexual experiences you'd had before your twenties. you'd ended things on good terms before you each went off to college.

his entire profile, you decide, is an assortment of green flags containing exactly what you need; looking for short term fun. social drinker and 420 friendly.

he's got a couple of goofy pictures, but he's aged well in the past decade, and you'd be down to find out if he's as good a lay as you remember. no possibility of falling in love; you're both only in town for the summer, nor are you looking for anything long-term. and, you add on to your mental list of reasons, he was never a creep, nor a murderer, and though that's a very low bar it's still nice to clear it. you can work with this. you swipe right and it's a match!

your mom has a girls weekend planned that you think might actually involve her and her friends, and joel told you he'll be out all weekend for his brother's bachelor party, so that's when you decide to set your date. it's nice to have the option to bring a guy back home and not have to worry about any awkward situations.

it's a friday night and you are all dolled up. your dress is tight, your tits look amazing, and the bar is lively. tonight is clearly the night to be out. there's a celebration going on in the corner with an incredibly drunk birthday girl scream-singing along to the music. pool tables packed. a group of men loudly complaining about the friend they're waiting for who's always late.

it doesn't take you long to spot connor. he's there, looking surprisingly good, leaning against the bar. a flash of dazzling white greets you when he catches your eye, grinning.

"hey," connor calls over to you, "it's been a minute! you look great!"

he gives you a quick kiss on the cheek and looks you up and down, eyes sweeping over the spill of your cleavage and cinch of your curves. you know you look good, and he knows it too.

"wasn't sure if this was still your drink," he tells you, passing you a mojito, "but this is for you."

"i can't believe you remembered!" you tell him--mojitos used to be your favorite-- "i usually go for something less sweet these days, but i still love em. thank you."

you take a sip and watch as he takes a big gulp of his beer. the condensation on the bottle drips down his thumb, a drop of moisture hanging on for a moment before falling. his arms are nicer than you remember, veins drawn in beautiful patterns, muscles tensing at seemingly the slightest movement.

yeah, you could fuck him.

he offers you a questioning half smile and you realise you've really just been staring at him, not sure how long for. "didn't realise how hot you'd gotten," you tell him, and he cracks up. any uncomfortable tension dissolves, and you relax into it. you're almost able to forget about joel miller.

you're having a great night. one drink turns to three and before you know it, you're on the dance floor, enjoying the sensation of connor's hands all over you--holding your waist, brushing your cheek, groping at your ass as you grind together, both of you hot and sweaty and feeling wonderful. you turn your face to connor and kiss him, hot and passionate, running your tongue along his perfect teeth. it's... nice. he lets out a little whimper, which you like, but where joel would've leaned in deeper, cupped your face, tangled his hands in your hair and growled into your mouth in response, connor pulls back and practically giggles. "you're so sexy, baby," he says, and that's all fine and good, but it's not as exciting as you'd hoped. it just feels bland.

but you've made the effort to come out, and you're not gonna give up just yet.

you kiss him again, trying to will a bit of passion into the exchange, but all of a sudden he's shoved aside by some asshole barrelling past and he's nearly knocked over.

"hey what the fuck!" connor shouts, and the person who shoved into him stops. turns to you both.

before you see his face, you know it's him. broad shoulders and a muscled back. patchy beard. great forearms. and his jaw is set in the most beautiful scowl you've ever seen.

"joel-" you gasp.

this wasn't part of the plan. why the fuck is he here?

then you notice the group of somewhat rowdy men in the corner, right in the direction he was heading. one of them calls over in his direction, and he holds up a finger before turning back to you.

this must be his brother's bachelor party.

connor looks between the two of you. "you know this guy?" he asks, and you nod. he turns to joel. "you need to watch where you're walking, man."

a muscle in joel's clenched jaw ticks as he stares him down, and connor takes a tiny step back.

"connor," you say, "this is, uh, this is joel. my stepdad. joel, this is connor."

"oh," connor says, "well, just be more careful next time. nice to meet you, man. joel."

he extends a hand, which joel blatantly ignores as he fixes you with a gaze.

"best be gettin' home, sweetheart," he says, tone colder than you've ever heard it before. you swear you can see a vein in his forehead pulsing. "it's getting late."

you raise your eyebrows. is he... mad? and if so, is this the best he can do? "joel, it's a friday night. i'm having a good time, and i'm gonna keep having a good time."

he stares you down.

"that alright?" you ask, a challenge.

he grits his teeth again and nods sharply, hissing out a fine, throwing one last glare at connor before he walks away rigidly.

connor frowns at you and you shrug, but you glance over at joel, watching him retreat.

now that you know he's here, at this bar, it's almost impossible not to keep looking over at him.

he looks strangely awkward over there, like he's trying to appear relaxed but is following a relaxation guide written by aliens. he's rigid. uncomfortable. a man clasps him on the shoulder (his brother?) and doubles over in a laugh, which he seems to join half-heartedly. you can see how he's holding his beer with a white-knuckled grasp. his shoulders have relaxed a little, but in a way that looks intentional. you're not sure if anyone else would notice, but you've watched joel a lot these past few weeks. you can see it. you don't know what that means.

as connor tells you all about his work, you catch joel looking at you, too. there are a few times your eyes meet and something would flash between you. if connor noticed that you were distracted, he didn't show it.

you're a few more drinks in, loose and warm, getting quite cosy, when connor's phone starts to buzz. he glances the name on the caller id and his eyes go wide. "i'm so sorry," he tells you, points at his phone, "a friend of mine's going through a hard time--i need to get this. excuse me a minute?"

"of course!" you tell him, and watch him head outside for some quiet.

it takes less than two minutes before you feel joel sidle up beside you. you know it's him before you even turn to look.

"hi, joel," you say, and he grunts in response.

you're silent for a moment.

"so," you try again, "you wanna tell me why you look like you've been chewing a lemon?"

he frowns. "huh?"

"sour," you supply.

he rolls his eyes.

"don't like seein ya with that boy."

"oh really?" you ask, "and how is that any of your business? has he offended you in some way?"

he shrugs. "just don't like it."

"i'm gonna try again, joel. what's your fuckin problem?"

he huffs out a breath. "a fuckin' kid like that's just tryin' to get his dick wet."

"i should hope so," you scoff, "that's kinda the point."

"seriously?" his voice drops to a lower register, "am i not takin' good enough care of you?"

"no, joel, it's not-"

he cuts you off, "hush, girl-" and despite the quiet of his words, now you notice the slight slur to them. "cos how i remember it," he tells you, "just a day ago you were cryin' my name, ridin' my cock."

you feel your face heat, but he keeps going- "would you let that boy fuck you raw? huh?" he doesn't even give you a chance to respond. "guess you really do take after your momma, huh? mother's a whore and her daughter is too."

"fuck you joel-"

"worst mistake of my fuckin' life getting mixed up with all this shit- with you-"

rage surges through you, shoving aside any embarrassment you felt earlier, and before you can stop yourself, you slap joel across the face.

the impact breaks something that's been building and you both reel back, deflated. you stare at each other for a moment in shock and silence. the place your hand made contact with him starts to bloom blotchy red.

joel rubs his jaw with his palm and winces. "okay, i deserved that," he huffs.

you soften just a little, "you did deserve that."

"i shouldn't be talkin' to ya like that," he groans, chastened, "not your fault. i've had too much to drink, i think. gonna stick with water the rest of the night."

"can we call a truce for tonight?" you ask. connor could be back any moment now and you aren't gonna do any of this in front of him. but as unreasonable as joel's being, you don't wanna hurt him. your anger has all but dissolved and you just want peace.

"sure," he says, "truce."

you smile, half-hearted.

"so, big bachelor party, huh?" you ask, nodding at his group still in the corner.

"hah," he breathes, "yeah. can't believe my little brother's gettin' married."

"which one is he?"

joel points. "over there. the one in th' button-down, currently double fistin' his beer."

you roll your eyes. "no wonder you're so fucked up. must run in the family," you say pointedly, and he knows he's not off the hook for his earlier jibe.

a pause.

"so, who is this guy?" he asks, and he notices you tense. "no, no, i'm not gonna- be more of an asshole."

"good."

"so?"

"his name is connor. we dated back in high school. just seemed like a safe option for a hookup. no strings, any of that."

joel hums. grimaces. "seems a bit young for you, hmm? you seem to like your men old and grey, not bright eyed and bushy tailed."

you snort and roll your eyes, "oh, fuck off."

the moment falls between you.

"look, joel. i don't know what- this is between us." you gesture between the two of you, "like, it's not... sustainable. i know that. you're married to my fuckin' mom, and that's not even touching our age gap."

he sighs. "yeah. i know."

"so, what is it you want? from me? from this?"

he huffs out a breath. "truth is, i don't know," he admits.

"well, you sure as fuck had better figure it out

"he finds out his wife's cheating on him, he fucks her daughter-"

"hey, don' say it like that-"

"-and then gets jealous at the thought of her daughter fucking someone else."

"hey now-"

"am i wrong?"

silence. an awkward cough.

"no," he concedes, "you're not wrong. and i don't know what this is, but i do know what i want."

"and what's that?"

"you."

you stare at one another. he leans towards you, his voice gravelly, barely above a whisper.

"i want you to forget all about that boy. i wanna make you feel good, as much as i can for as long as i can. i wanna make you come on my tongue, and my fingers, and my cock. i wanna hear you scream my name-"

your breath hitches and you can almost taste the whiskey on his warm breath as it tickles your cheek. joel's hand is gripping your arm now and the grip is a comfort.

of course, that's the exact moment connor reappears.

"hey, there, sorry it took so long! really glad i picked up-"

you and joel pull back, and mostly manage to pull off looking casually friendly, but connor misreads it entirely and looks between the two of you.

and then he turns on joel.

"get off her ass, old man," he hisses, "she's an adult, and you're not even her dad! she can stay out if she wants to!"

joel stares at him, wide-eyed, startled as hell, and you do your best to stifle a laugh at the idea of joel being your actual dad. yikes.

"it's okay babe," you reach out to connor, patting his arm to soothe him. "joel and i were just catching up. is your friend okay?"

his eyes dart between you before he tries to catch up. recalibrate.

"uh, yeah-" he says, "yeah he was having a hard time but i think he's doing better now."

another glance to joel. back to you.

"so, uh-" he ventures, tentative, "do you wanna get out of here?"

if it hadn't been for joel turning up at this bar, you'd say yes in a heartbeat.

but you know for a damn fact that isn't gonna happen now.

"ah shit, connor, i'm sorry. i'm feeling a bit off tonight, and i think i should call it an early night."

"oh."

"i'm really sorry, it really was nice to see you."

connor sighs, nods, and then flashes you one last dazzling smile.

"you too," he says, and leans in to press a kiss to your cheek. "take care of yourself, yeah? and if you ever wanna meet up again, just let me know."

you nod and watch as he walks away.

it's only a moment later that you feel joel's hand snake around your waist and hold you close to him. it's familiar and lovely, the callouses that trace across your skin.

'i think," you tell him, "you should tell your group you're heading out soon."

he looks over at the group and one of them waves at him with a confused expression on his face.

"and then i want you to meet me in the bathroom. single stall at the end of the hallway. don't make me wait more than ten minutes."

joel's mouth goes very dry very quickly, and he nods almost too eagerly. his pupils are blown and you can't get enough of the bead of sweat that rolls from his temple.

"good boy," you tell him and he gulps. turns away from you and back to his group.

you walk towards the bathrooms and catch his gaze and a brief nod as you walk by him.

you feel exhilarated. goosebumps prickle up and down your arms and your stomach flips in an excited swoop. you've inadvertently just swapped roles. you didn't tend to take the lead, at least not in this way. if anything, you tended to beg, please daddy, please fuck me.

after you close the bathroom door behind you, you take a moment to collect yourself. you adjust your hair, smooth out your dress, and wait.

a few minutes pass, and then--a knock at the door. three gentle raps; a rhythm you know so well.

you open the door, grab him by the collar, and pull him in.

he practically squeaks as he's pulled through, but then you're pressing him against the door and he melts under you. he lets out a long, throaty groan as your tongue drags along his jaw, your hands slapping his out of the way as you undo the buttons of his shirt and rake your nails down his chest.

"gonna put your money where your mouth is?" you ask. his brow furrows. "gonna make me feel good, daddy?"

"yes-" he moans and devours your mouth in a kiss. pulls away, breathless, "what do you want, baby, tell me--"

"mouth. and fingers."

"god yes-"

before you have a moment to react, he hikes the skirt of your dress up and backs you up against the sink. "get on up, baby," he says, and you do, hopping up onto the sink with your skirt around your waist and your panties on full display, damp and translucent with your slick. you lean back against the mirror and joel grabs at your thighs, spreading them wider apart.

when he sees how wet you are, he lets out a strangled moan. "jesus christ, honey-" he says, and drags his forefinger along your slit, through your panties, "you're gonna fuckin' kill me."

then he looks at you with those dark, beautiful eyes. searches your face. then drops to his knees.

he starts by mouthing against your panties, just his lips at first, but then he starts to lick and suck at you, sucking your slick from the fabric.

"cute panties," he tells you, and then he's got his fingers hooked on the waistband and pulls them down and off you, helping to lift your hips.

then, when they're off, he wraps them around his hand, buries his nose into his fist and inhales deeply.

"fucking hell, joel-" you breathe, and he turns a little pink, grinning sheepishly. fuckin' joel miller sniffing your panties. how is it that that's the hottest thing you've ever seen?

he doesn't liger too long, though. before you know it, his big hands are grabbing at your thighs again, holding you open. then he's tracing a fingertip along your cunt. prodding in, just a little. pushing your folds open and looking at how messy you already are. sloppily scissoring his fingers, opening you up

"needy little thing, huh?" joel asks and you nod.

leaving his fingers inside, he pulls the hood of your clit back with his thumb and leans in to kitten lick it. it leaves you writhing, but the grip of his other hand on your thigh helps keep you in place. he pulls back, just a little, and spits on your pussy. rubs it in with the thumb, giving you the most lovely pressure, extra slick exactly where you need it.

pumps gently, leaning back in to start licking you in earnest. after a few lazy pumps, he hooks his fingers in you and starts pressing into you with more speed, more urgency.

he pulls back for only a moment and you can see that his moustache and his bottom lip are glistening with your slick. he opens his mouth to praise you, telling you those perfect sounds you're makin' are drivin' me crazy, honey, love how you let daddy know just how good he's makin ya feel, that's it, don't hold back-

and suddenly you're coming.

despite the dullness from the alcohol, and the fact that you're propped up on a sink and just realising your back is smashed up against an uncomfortable knobby faucet--despite all that--waves of pleasure surge through you, hot and bright at your core, flowing across your entire body as you ride his fingers, practically sobbing his name.

your hips rock back up, forcing his fingers deeper into you, and he holds you tight as you ride it through.

for a moment, your vision is replaced with a million little black dots, but then the haze clears and you see joel kneeling in front of you, one hand with stilled fingers still inside you, the other, grasping your hip and holding on gently but firmly.

it takes you longer than you expected to come down from it, but after a few minutes you've gathered yourself.

joel's no longer fingering you, instead rubbing soothing circles to a sensitive bit right at the inside of your thigh. he's telling you lovely things, and you bask in the sensation of his closeness.. you notice his fingers feel funny, but you let out a giggle when you realise they're pruney from being inside you.

he notices what you're looking at and snorts. then thinks for a moment. decides.

"you got any plans tonight?" joel asks you.

"just connor," you laugh, and joel glowers, unimpressed.

"but no, this was much better. and i have no other plans tonight. got something in mind?"

he nods, and suddenly looks almost bashful. "i've got a hotel room. technically part of the bachelor party, but my room's at the opposite end of the hallway from the rest of the party."

you grin.

"i know-" he starts, "i know we hardly ever have a chance to sleep in a bed together. but this could be a chance. if you want?"

for the second time this evening, you grab him by the collar and pull him in for a kiss.

the hotel is really only ten minutes away, but it feels like about five million hours.

you're trying not to look recently fucked, and joel's trying not to let his enormous hard-on look visible through his jeans.

you both sit rigidly in the back seat of the cab. neither of you know if you're being too cautious, or not cautious enough, but you both want to keep whatever you're doing between just the two of you.

despite the distance, though, you can still feel the tug between you. you could cut the tension with a knife. it's only when you arrive at your destination do you feel like you can breathe again. you don't know how, but you know joel feels it too.

there was always the risk that joel's brother could, potentially, run into them in the elevator.

so, all things considered, it was a really, really stupid idea to fool around on the elevator ride to the tenth floor.

"think they have cameras in here?" you ask, and joel snorts.

"if they do, they'll be getting quite a show, huh baby?"

"yes daddy," you agree, and joel groans at your words, closing his eyes, his head tilting back to rest against the cool metal wall behind him. he feels you undo his zipper, unfastens his belt and the button of his jeans. then the wet warmth of your mouth is wrapped against the head of his cock and his groan turns into a shudder of absolute pleasure.

his pants are still up at his hips, cock hanging out impressively. you drag your nails along his thighs all the same, providing enough pressure so he doesn't lose sensation through the fabric.

his hands are tangled up in your hair as you pull his hips towards you, encouraging him to fuck your throat. he's getting frantic, when the elevator suddenly dings!

you break apart instantly and for a moment your stomach flips as you're certain someone else is about to walk into the elevator, but then you realise you've arrived at your floor.

joel composes himself, slicks his sweaty hair back and pulls his pants back up, pretending to ignore the enormous hard-on straining against the fabric.

"this way," he tells you, and you follow him.

any initial reversal of your usual roles becomes a rhythm of give and take. you're barely through the door before joel's grabbing at the hem of your dress and pulling it up and over your shoulders. unhooks your bra and tosses it to the floor.

he stands there and stares at you for a moment, mapping out every curve, every angle, every stretch mark. you're completely bare for him, your panties still in his pocket.

then he's on you, hands gripping your waist, your jaw, stroking over your breasts, fingers dragging over your bellybutton, cupping your pussy-- the sensation is overwhelming, almost too much. if someone told you he'd grown extra hands, you'd believe them; his touch is all over you.

"you feel so good baby," he tells you as his hands slide down to grab at your ass, "you sweet thing-"

you work at unbuttoning his shirt, shoving it off his arms. you pull off his belt, too, which he never rebuckled. shuck his pants down, drop to your knees.

but then he pulls you back up. "uh-uh," he shakes his head, "get on this bed right now for daddy. i wanna taste you while you taste me."

you scoot back onto the bed and lay down, your head near the pillows. joel walks around the bed and kisses you once more, deeply, and then he yanks off his socks and straddles your face.

"this okay baby?" he asks. his cock is thick and heavy and hanging against your cheek.

"yes, daddy-" you tell him, and move to take a tentative lick of his swollen head.

"good girl," he groans and stretches out. you grab his cock with one hand, gripping onto his hip with the other. you guide his cock in your mouth, relaxing and opening your throat just how you need to for this angle. the salty tang is perfect, and you can feel his body tremble.

then you can feel his breath on your abdomen as he trails kisses down and down and down and then his lips meet yours, his hands grip your ass, and he's pointed his tongue in the most delicious way as it flicks over your clit and then inside you. you're doing your best to stay focused on sucking his cock--you know he hasn't gotten off once yet tonight--but the sensation starts to build and build and build and it's all you can do to at least keep your throat open for him to fuck into as he brings you towards another climax.

he holds onto you as you come, as if any distance would cause you to disintegrate. you ride his tongue, dazed by the sensation, the brush of his beard, the way he's gotten loud and feral as he licks up the slick of your release. your thighs are wet, both from your own arousal and his spit, and as you come back to yourself, you know you need him to fuck you.

"joel-," you say, and he ignores you, continuing to lick at you.

"joel, please-," you beg, "need your cock so bad. need you to fuck me, to fill me up-"

he pulls back, "try again," and then dives in again.

"daddy, please!", you cry, and it comes out almost as a shout.m

"there's my good girl," he tells you, and swings his leg back over you so he's no longer straddling your face. he holds his dick and slaps it a few times on your cheek. "need this cock filling you up?"

"yes."

"better beg for it, baby girl."

you fucking love when he makes you beg, but you hate it too. he walks around the bed and then kneels on the foot of it. hooks his hands under your knees and pulls you towards him.

"need it, daddy. use this pussy, use me, please-" your begging has turned to whining, and joel's eyes are blown black, hard and beautiful as he looks at you.

"fill me up with your cum, take your pleasure from me, daddy, let me be so good for you."

in a single fluid motion, he yanks your knees up onto his shoulders and fucks into you in with a single long thrust.

you scream out, it's so much and so good.

"such a good girl, huh?" he asks you, cupping your jaw as he pounds into you. it's not soft, not languid, not gentle. he sets a brutal pace, his hips stuttering, cock ramming into you again and again and again. "sweet little toy for me to use, aren't you baby? keep that pussy open wide for your daddy, huh? so wet for me, you just wanna make daddy feel good, don'tcha?"

the sensation is too much, his coarse hair grinding against your clit as he fucks so deeply into you, sending sparks flying through you at the thought of it. he presses a palm into your belly, just below your navel, and the pleasure increases beautifully.

you've lost the ability to form coherent sentences, just "yes, yes, yes, so good daddy, so fucking deep, you're so big, such a big fuckin' cock, fuck!"

his moans have turned into strangled grunts, all his focus on getting himself off in you. you adjust your hips just a little and the angle allows him to press in just that little bit deeper.

"you love feeling me in here, don't ya?" he asks, pressing his fingers harder into your belly, pulling a moan from you you weren't expecting. his eyes flicker back to your face and his eyes crinkle, "takin' daddy's cock so nice."

then he moves his fingers back down to play with your clit again.

"gettin' close, baby," he tells you, "but i need just one more from ya. can you do that, pretty girl? come one more time on daddy's dick?"

you whine and writhe but you know you can--it's already building--and you tell him so.

"that's my good girl," he praises, his fingertips slick and teasing as he coaxes another orgasm out of you.

it hits you like a freight train, and suddenly you're spasming around him, sucking his cock almost deeper inside you, exploding with waves and waves of pleasure. you scream, and he lets out a strangled cry before he spills inside you.

it takes a few minutes before either of you move again. he pulls himself out gingerly, and you wince at the lack of fullness.

"took it so nice, baby," he tells you, and cupping a soothing hand over your pussy, being careful to avoid your clit or anything too sensitive. he pulls his hand away and looks at the mess on it, your come mixed together and dripping out of you. "so good for me."

then he kisses you, gentle, sweet and deep.

he runs a shower for the both of you and scrubs you both clean. it's possibly the most tender moment you've had with him, as he tucks a wet lock of your hair back, kissing you again as his softened cock presses against you and you let yourself savour the sensation of your bodies inhabiting the same space.

joel sorts through the linens and changes the sheets before you go to bed. it's unnecessary and oddly thoughtful, something you didn't really expect.

he wraps his arm around you, pulling you close as you snuggle in together. you can feel your eyelids growing heavy, but joel brings you back to him before you can drift off properly.

"you asked what this is between us. what i wanted."

you stay silent, waiting for him to continue.

"i-" he falters, "i still don't know. but i know that i care for you."

"joel-"

"and i know there's no place i'd rather be right now."

you let that sit for a moment. then turn and kiss him.

"go to sleep, joel."

"okay, pretty lady."

he pulls you close and you drift off in his arms.

[kirby-manga-translated]

It’s Kirby Time - Book 9 English Translation + An Update on Blog Happenings

HAPPY NEW YEAR!! IT'S HEEEEERE!! A truly adorable story about Kirby and Meta Knight deciding to spend some alone time and the activities they like to do during that time. Featuring beautiful illustrations painstakingly cleaned up by myself, this one is a must-read for fans of the relationship between Kirby and Meta Knight. Read the full thing at the links below:

Imgur

MangaDex

Google Drive

...But wait, there's more! Because the illustrations are so pretty, here's a link to a folder containing just those illustrations with no text at all! https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/19z8WLah-ZGES2jnyZOILJKc9kE75Wvs9?usp=drive_link (I'm probably also gonna make a post featuring all these images on their own soon.)

Finally, I have an update regarding the blog. tl;dr, I'm definitely gonna keep doing translations, but the rate at which they are completed and uploaded is most likely going to change soon. I don't know by how much or even if it will be positive or negative. For a more detailed explanation, click the Keep Reading.

So, I got a job! *audience cheers* But the job does not involve translating Kirby manga. *audience "aww"s* Ordinarily I wouldn't get more specific than that since I try to avoid revealing too much about my personal life, but in this case the explanation won't make much sense unless I do, so: The job entails working on fishing boats. This means that there isn't really a set daily schedule or even a weekly schedule. When the boats are fishing, I'm working, and when they're not, I have next to nothing to do.

I've been told by many people that I should expect a lot of down time for that reason, so I'll definitely have time to work on translations. However, I can't predict exactly how much I get and I also most likely won't have an internet connection on the boat. All this is to say that I literally do not know how this is going to affect the rate of translations on this blog beyond just, "It's going to change." I could find that I have so much down time on the boat that translating is the only thing that keeps me sane and I actually get more done. I could find that the boat I'm on is a super-busy one and I get barely any time at all. And regardless of which one of those happens, I won't be able to actually upload anything until the boat gets back into port, which is entirely dependent on how long it takes for the boat to catch all the fish it needs.

The job doesn't start for a couple weeks yet, so I'm gonna try to fulfill a few more requested chapters before then. Once again: I'm definitely going to keep translating, I just don't know how often I'll actually be able to do it. So enjoy this translation, look forward to more coming in the future, and please wish me luck both in my work and in getting time to translate!

[glossdebut]

Take a Bite Ch. 3

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SUMMARY: Your fledgling career as a music journalist is finally going in some kind of direction that must be on the path to success. Your coworkers like you enough to invite you out on Fridays, your boss is starting to think you’re competent enough to let you score a few bylines, and you're finally getting the hang of InDesign. All of your hard work, late nights, and complete lack of a social life are starting to pay off... Even if it all came at the expense of the longest relationship of your life. Fine. You've accepted the fact that romance isn't for you, under any circumstances. You won't risk your career for anybody. Not even Min Yoongi.

✧ TAGS: slow burn, eventual smut, eventual romance, producer yoongi, music journalist reader, neighbors to friends to lovers? you'll see, reader is bad at feelings, reader is post-break up

✧ WARNINGS: yoongi being RICH. also... remember that eventual smut? well it's kind of here! if you wanna skip, stop reading at [Maybe you should fix that.] and then continue at [After another moment, you roll over onto your stomach...]

✧ WORDCOUNT: 3.5k

✧ STATUS: ongoing

✧ AUTHOR'S NOTE: hi i normally post on wednesdays but we're about to get a HURRICANE where i'm at so i'm posting early lmfao. rating goes up in this chapter whoops! not sure when chapter 4 will be posted but i'll keep you guys updated. thank you all so much for the engagement i've been receiving on this fic!!! it's my first one ever and i never expected to get so many readers so quickly <3 you guys are keeping me writing so please feel free to send me feedback if you like this chapter. i'd love to read it if i have power over the next few days LOL

Chapter 3: I Wanna Fold Clothes For You

So, you and Yoongi are friends.

Of course, seeing him three times within twenty four hours was a fluke, and over the next six days you don’t see him once, not even in passing in your shared hallway. You’re not privy to his work hours, but you know based on what little he’s told you that working as a producer demands more than the normal nine to five, as does your job.

Still, there’s something about coming home every night and knowing that you have a friend right down the hall, if you need one. You haven’t had that in a long time, and you feel so much lighter now that you do have it. 

There is, of course, an upside to not being able to see Yoongi often. Given that you’ve only just met him, you don’t have his appearance committed to memory quite yet, and mercifully, you’re beginning to forget why you were so viscerally attracted to him in the first place. 

You reason that it must’ve been the alcohol. You were getting drunk when you met him, stupidly drunk when you discovered that you’re neighbors, hungover when you shared a tangerine, and drinking from a bottomless glass of wine (courtesy of Seokjin) when you drooled over his hands for a solid ten minutes. You have yet to interact with Yoongi clear-headed and lucid. Not to mention you’re just a little bit… pent up, recently. Drunk and horny Y/N had the wheel. That has to be it. Nobody is that hot. You’re sure of that. Men ain’t special!

So you go through your week business as usual, but with a slight spring in your step, and it’s lovely. You even venture way further away from the office for your lunch hour on Friday than you normally would to go to a restaurant you’ve been dying to try. You’re usually so tied to the office that the furthest you tend to go is the convenience store down the street for the instant stuff.

And then, since the universe demands correction (or overcorrection where you’re concerned), all of the floaty goodness comes to a screeching halt when you get in your car to head back to the office. Your car which, in the past hour you’ve been blissfully stuffing your face with tteokbokki, has decided it has done its job and is ready to retire.

It just straight up won’t start.

Sitting in the parking lot of the restaurant, you go into crisis management mode.

You’re thankfully not completely clueless where cars are concerned. It comes with the territory of owning a beater. You keep up with your oil changes, you don’t leave the lights on when you get home late. You replaced your battery semi-recently, so that shouldn’t be it. Unfortunately, you don’t have much time to troubleshoot. You need to get back to work. Okay… Damage control, then.

The most obvious solution is to call one of your coworkers to come and rescue you, but your coworkers are just as notorious for being tethered within a one mile radius of the office as you are, so that would more than likely end up being a waste of time. You could find the nearest bus stop, but who knows how long public transportation could take right now? Too unpredictable. You could call your boss and tell him that you’re not going to be back to the office anytime soon (or at all today) and get your car towed and repaired. But then you would suddenly have a reputation of being unreliable, because god forbid you have a human moment. That’s straight up not an option. You’ve been doing so good this week.

You’re sure there are other options. But isn’t this what friends are for?

He answers on the fifth ring, but he answers.

“Y/N?” 

“Yoongi.” You feel your shoulders slump in relief. You try your best not to sound as panicked as you feel. “Are you busy?”

“Um. I’m at the studio,” he says, confusion in his voice. “But I have a minute. Is everything okay?” Confusion and concern? That’s nice.

“Everything’s fine!” you blurt out. “Okay, maybe not. My car won’t start! I don’t know why, but it won’t, and I need to get back to work, but you’re at work, too! I don’t even know where you work, but I doubt it’s anywhere near where I am, and even if it is, I don’t want to tear you away from anything important—”

“Y/N.”

“—I know you said you had a minute, but I really don’t want to fuck up your flow. That’s a term, right? You’re a producer, you… flow. Anyway, I just don’t really know anyone here and I didn’t know who to call, and if I don’t get back to work soon my boss is going to kill me—”

“Y/N,” he says, more firmly. Your mouth snaps shut. “Where are you?”

“In my car,” you say dumbly, frazzled.

Yoongi sighs. “Send me your location.”

“For what?”

“I’m gonna send a car to come get you and drive you to your office,” he says, and he sounds just the slightest bit exasperated about needing to explain that to you.

Send a car? What the fuck? You have so many questions, such as: how fucking loaded is the guy who lives two doors down from you in your very shitty apartment building? What label does he even work for? How famous of a producer is he to be able to send a car to you? But your immediate instinct to turn down his help wins out over asking any of them.

“What? Yoongi, no, that’s too much,” you complain. “Don’t do that. I just freaked out a little bit, I can–”

“Y/N,” he interrupts. If you’re not mistaken, it sounds a bit like he’s trying not to laugh at you. Fucker. “Location.”

So you send him your location. What other option do you have?

“You’re not far,” Yoongi says once he receives your text. A few moments pass, and then: “Car will be there in ten.”

“Thank you,” you say. You feel nauseous, like maybe you’re going to cry, but there’s also a good amount of relief there, too. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“No need,” he says. “I’d come get you myself, but I really can’t get away right now.”

“Still, there’s a comically large bottle of an alcohol of your choosing in your future. Seriously, thank you.”

His responding laugh is enough to settle your stomach just a little. “Seriously, you don’t need to pay me back…” A pause. “But for the record, I like whiskey.”

You wrinkle your nose even though he can’t see it. “Gross.”

“Don’t be a hater.”

“As long as you don’t make me drink it with you, I’ll keep my comments to myself,” you say, finding yourself smiling.

“Oh, you think I share?” Yoongi teases back. He sighs again. “I really have to go.”

“Go, go,” you say. “Thanks for saving me. Even if it’s by proxy.”

“You can always call me if you need shit like this,” he says. You can tell that he means it. “I’m glad you called me. Means I’m doing something right.”

“You are,” you say, your voice soft. Your cheeks feel warm. Probably because you’re sitting in a dead car. “Thanks.”

Yoongi hums in response. “Text me when you get back to the office safe, okay?”

“I will. Bye, Yoongi.”

And that’s that.

★ ★ ★

True to your word, you text Yoongi when the stupidly luxurious car he ordered for you drops you off at your office, only ten minutes later than you’re due back from your lunch break. You’re able to slip in without anyone noticing that you’re late at all, which is great. Crisis partially averted.

He sends back a thumbs up emoji, and then decides to drop the bomb that he intends to pay for your car to be towed.

[1:21] You: YOONGI NO

[1:21] You: you can’t do that!!!!

[1:24] Yoongi: 100% I can and will as soon as I get ten minutes to make a phone call to sort it out.

The audacity of this man.

[1:25] You: seriously i cannot ask you to do that

[1:25] You: i was just going to take the bus back to the restaurant after work and deal with it from there. i’m actively researching towing companies and repair places on company time as we speak

[1:30] Yoongi: You’re not asking me. You’ve got enough to worry about. Let me take care of it. I know the places.

[1:31] You: still, i can’t let you spend money like that on me. i don’t even wanna think about what that car cost you

[1:31] Yoongi: If it helps you sleep at night you can pay me back on your own time. You definitely don’t have to though.

[1:32] Yoongi: That reminds me. You can use that car until yours is taken care of if you need to. I’ll send you the driver’s contact. Don’t take the bus.

You feel like you’re going insane.

[1:33] You: do you have a grammy or something? what do you DO to be able to afford shit like this? why do you live in our building? are you a drug dealer?

[1:37] Yoongi: :]

Of course, he gives you no clues about what exactly he does, but after a bit more back-and-forth, you finally give in and let Yoongi handle everything under the condition that you’re going to pay him back. He doesn’t seem all that worried about it, which infuriates you just a little.

You go through the rest of your day like normal, if not a tad twitchy. Come quitting time, you take advantage of having a driver at your disposal and have him stop a liquor store on your way home.

As you take the elevator up to your floor, comically large whiskey bottle (as promised) in tow, you text Yoongi and ask if he’s home yet. At his responding ‘No, why?’ you cackle to yourself and pocket your phone. The elevator doors slide open. You were hoping that would be the case. 

You clocked out at a semi-normal time tonight, a gift to yourself to cope with the stress of the day, and so you take great pleasure in setting the bottle down on Yoongi’s very tasteful cat doormat, flipping it off right back on your way into your own apartment.

You silently pray to whatever god may be listening that the whiskey isn’t swiped by someone before Yoongi gets home. Your cat, Pepper, is blinking at you lazily on the kitchen counter, and you give her a triumphant little scratch on the head before padding to your bedroom to deal with your laundry.

Your move, Min Yoongi.

★ ★ ★

“Do I need to be jealous?”

You take advantage of getting off work early to call your best friend Rina for the first time in what feels like forever. She’s in Paris this month, debuting a play that she’s been working on tirelessly about aliens and drug addiction. You’ve read the script six times over. It’s both campy and gut wrenching all at once, and you’ve cried every time. You picture her with her very chic haircut, sipping from a flute of champagne. The thought of her being jealous of any part of your life is laughable. 

“What do you have to be jealous of, exactly?” you snort, holding your phone between your ear and shoulder as you toss your laundry basket upside down on your bed unceremoniously. Your clothes are covered in a perma-layer of Pepper hair, and you think it’s lucky that Pepper is a black cat and most of your clothes are black. Very enviable.

“Of Yoongi, dipshit,” she coos through the phone. “You’re replacing me.”

“Sure,” you say, like she’s making total sense. You’re lying on top of your laundry now instead of folding it. You put her on speakerphone and rest your phone on your chest. “I’m throwing away ten years of being your best friend for a guy that I met a week ago. I’m glad you figured it out, honestly, because I was dreading telling you. I was going to wait until your matinée, but you don’t seem too broken up about it.”

“Of course. You have to do what’s right for you, I’ve always told you that,” she deadpans back, and you groan. You don’t want to hear it. “No, I just mean… It’s good. That you’re meeting people.”

“We’re neighbors,” you say, flopping over onto your front to rub at your temples. Rina is resting on a pile of your underwear now. “We talk about work. My work, not his, because he thinks it’s funny to act like he’s too cool to tell me about his job. He’s helping me with my car. We’re… neighborly.”

“And you want to fuck him,” she says. Maybe calling Rina was a bad idea. Debriefing over text would have sufficed.

“I don’t want to fuck him,” you say, indignant. “We’re friends. He’s nice. I can have a guy friend.”

“Of course you can,” Rina says, like you’re dumb for even thinking she would imply otherwise. “And you can be friends with him all you want. But you also want to fuck him.”

You groan in protest but she speaks over it.

“Baby, you can pretend, but I know how you talk about people you want to have sex with, even if you don’t say it outright,” she continues. “He may just be feeding you and helping you and talking to you about the weather, but I know you, and I know the whole time he’s talking you’re just agonizing over how he might fuck you if you let him.”

“That’s not fair,” you mumble, letting your face drop into your laundry. It smells good. Small comforts.

“Are you going to let him?”

“No,” you whine, muffled by the cotton. “I don’t need that. There are always strings. I hate strings.”

“You said he’s a super straightforward, honest guy, right?” Rina asks.

“Brutally so,” you grumble.

“So. Maybe he’d be cool with a lack of strings. You won’t know unless you ask, baby.”

You want to tell her that’s easy for her to say, but you don’t want to fight with her when you know you won’t hear from her like this again for a while. 

Rina has never compromised for anything. She decided in both of your sophomore year of college, after flirting with both performance and directing, that she wanted to be a playwright, and that was that. 

She wrote and wrote and wrote, and after you graduated together, her career blossomed almost instantly because she worked goddamn hard for it. She got opportunities to travel and work with theatre companies around the world, and she took them without giving it a second thought because she knew it was what she wanted. And she’s had a consistent, loyal boyfriend nearly the whole time. He doesn’t always travel with her, but he supports her in everything she does. They’re excruciatingly healthy about it. 

When your long-term college boyfriend dumped you unceremoniously two months into your first reporter gig because he felt he came second to your career, Rina was there for you. But you resented her a little bit. There was no way she could understand any of it. 

Still, as much as you hate to admit it, she has a point. You could just ask Yoongi if he wants to fool around without it being a thing, and you know he’d give you a straight answer. You’re even pretty confident he wouldn’t make it weird if his answer was no. That’s not the problem. It never is.

“The problem isn’t whether or not I think he’d be cool with it,” you mumble. “The problem is if he is cool with it, and then the strings come anyway. The friendship is nice. I’m attracted to him, yeah, fine. But I can ignore it if it means I get to be his friend.”

Theres a long pause on the line, and then Rina sighs.

“Your life would be a lot easier if you could do one night stands,” she says.

Don’t you know it. 

“Yeah.”

“I’ve gotta go, okay? Text me. Keep me updated on life.” You read between the lines. On Yoongi, she means. “I love you.”

“Mmmhh,” you mumble back, still burying your face into your laundry. 

When the line disconnects, you feel considerably more twitchy and irritable than you did before talking to Rina.

So, you’re attracted to Yoongi. Or you were, when you were drunk and he was all… hot and considerate. That doesn’t mean you have to act on it! You’re not going to act on it. You’re just pent up, that’s all. It’s been a long time since you’ve had an orgasm, self-inflicted or otherwise, and you can’t think straight.

Maybe you should fix that.

It’s clear you’re giving up on laundry for the night, so you shove the mountain of clothes back into the basket on the floor, sighing as you lay back on your bed.

You feel only slightly ridiculous as you shimmy your sleep shorts down your thighs, your hands sliding up your shirt to cup your breasts, squeezing slightly. Warming yourself up.

You quickly decide to get to the point, though. You’re struggling to immerse yourself in the fantasy that usually does the trick, too wound up and embarrassed (as if it’s not you in here by yourself, as usual) at groping yourself.

Despite the embarrassment, it becomes abundantly clear that you didn’t really need to warm yourself up anyway. Your fingers slide through your folds with ease, drenched like you’ve been that way all fucking day, unbeknownst to you, and a surprised moan falls from your lips. Fuck.

Closing your eyes, you circle two fingers around your clit experimentally, making your hips jerk up under you, sensitive. You do it again, a little firmer, starting a slow rhythm that makes you squirm against your mattress, your bottom lip rolling between your teeth.

It feels good. It usually does—you’ve always been able to make quick work of an orgasm to rid yourself of any lingering jitters before bed. But it feels really good right now, your pussy extra sensitive tonight, and you can’t figure out why. There’s nothing new about what you’re doing.

Rina’s words worm their way into your brain uninvited—the whole time he’s talking you’re just agonizing over how he might fuck you if you let him—and you’re too turned on to stop that train of thought, flashes of capable hands and pink tongue (tonguetechnologytonguetechnologytonguetechnology) filling your mind, and you’re moaning softly despite yourself as you rub your clit a little faster.

You continue to make soft noises of pleasure, your tongue darting out to wet your lips, dry from panting as the barrage of Yoongi-related thoughts keep coming, bringing you closer and closer to your release. 

Dark, dark eyes looking down at you. A delicate chain dangling above your face. You whimper, your fingers sliding down from your clit to sink into your pussy, curling up to rub at your inner walls. A thick cock sliding into you, filling you so deliciously.

You pump your fingers fast and desperate as you get closer and closer to that sweet edge. You wonder what Yoongi would sound like if he was the one fucking into you right now. Would he moan in your ear in that gravelly voice of his? He’s a man of few words. Would he be like that in bed, too? Would he call you sweet names? Not so sweet? Which ones?

Your walls flutter around your fingers, your hips stuttering up off the mattress as your orgasm crashes over you and you gasp out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

You stare up at the ceiling for a minute panting. The high of your release buzzes pleasantly through your body before it starts ebbing away, but the thoughts of Yoongi pervade. Well, fuck.

After another moment, you roll over onto your stomach to grab a towel from your laundry basket and wipe off your fingers, tossing it on the floor. You grab your phone, only to be greeted by a notification from the subject of your masturbation fantasy himself. He sent it about ten minutes ago.

When you tap it open, you’re greeted with a photo (!!!) of Yoongi holding your gift next to his head, the hand wrapped around the neck of the whiskey bottle almost dwarfed by its sheer size. A testament to the ridiculousness of it, because you’re well aware of how long Yoongi’s fingers are. There’s a lazy smirk on his face, and a mole that you’re just now noticing on his right cheek.

[8:23] Yoongi: Cute. 

Yep. Yep. Cool.

You swipe out, tapping on Rina’s contact.

[8:35] You: okay. i want to fuck him. 

[8:35] Rina: 🥂🥳🎉

Shit.

✧ shoot me a reply or an ask if you enjoyed this chapter! feedback is always appreciated <3 join my taglist if you want to be tagged in future chapters!

@dollfaceksj @jajabro

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[throughthetwistedmirror]

Something Special ~ *Azul Ashengrotto*

Summary: Azul is driving himself half sick with anxiety. He needed to make this party special for you because it's you! The twins have never seen him this bent out of shape, and they're going to tease the living hell out of him...

Pairing: Azul Ashengrotto X G/N!Reader

Genre: Fluffy Drabble

Word Count: 834

Warning: N/A

Masterlist

Taglist: @moonitsune @savanaclaw1996 @goseew

A/N: This is a request!

It has to be perfect. That was the thought that was running through Azul's mind as he sorted through the documents on his desk. He had been making himself sick with planning and preparations for a very important day this month. He was never this involved in any events hosted at the Mostro Lounge, but this was different. This was special. And it had to be perfect!

Jade and Floyd noticed there was something up with their boss when they noticed him spending more time than usual in his office. At first, they didn't think much of it. But lately, it's been hard to ignore. Azul wasn't one to shirk his school responsibilities, priding himself on being a model student. But this event had him so wound up, he was beginning to skip classes and his grades were beginning to slip.

It wasn't in the Leech Brothers' nature to be worried about their boss, but they were naturally curious eels. So they decided to investigate their boss's strange behavior.

"You've been in here for hours, boss." Jade commented, slowly coming around his desk to look at all the papers in disarray.

"Yeah, we haven't seen you in ages!" Floyd whined. "It's like you don't care about us anymore!"

"Hmmm? What are we talking about?" Azul slightly inclined his head, but his eyes were still focused on the work before him.

Jade shook his head and tsked. "I hate to say this, but you are working too hard. Perhaps a break is what you need."

"Yeah! A break!" Floyd perked up. "Let's go terrorize the halls of school like we used to! I'm sure there's some poor soul we can squeeze into a contract out there!"

He shook his head. "I am unfortunately preoccupied at the moment. If you need to go, Floyd, by all means, go ahead."

"I'm taking that as permission to squeeze whoever I want!" Floyd saluted his boss. "Don't worry, Azul, I won't let you down!"

With Floyd out of the office, Jade shook his head. "Now, Azul, why don't you tell me what's going on? You've been very preoccupied as of late, and it's not quite like you. Is it something the staff of Mostro Lounge should be concerned with?"

Azul finally looked up at his right hand man and sighed. "It's something very important that needs to be perfect. I have to make sure it's perfect!"

"And that is?"

"It's Y/n's birthday party."

"Oh, is that all?" Jade snickered behind his hand, though his eyes were cold and calculating. "Forgive me for saying this, Azul, but with all of this work you are putting into this little celebration, one would almost believe you harbored feelings for them."

Azul's cheeks burned bright pink before he could stop them. "Who said anything about that?! I never said, you think, no! I don't-"

Jade's chuckling became a little louder. "Goodness, you certainly are flustered! Forgive me for assuming. It won't happen again. Now, back to business. Is there anything you need from Floyd or me to make sure this party goes according to plan?"

Azul opened and closed his mouth a couple of times before finally settling on what he wanted to say, "The party is in a week. Is it possible for you and Floyd to distract them while we set up, and then lead them to the Lounge when I give you a signal?"

He grinned before waving his hand in slight dismissal. "Think nothing of it! Floyd and I will be able to accomplish such a task, I assure you."

"Thank you." Azul sighed and slumped back in his office chair. "That takes care of one problem."

"Well, if you need help with anything else, you know where to find us. I'll leave you to do your planning." Jade gave a small bow before slipping out of the office, leaving Azul alone.

He didn't return to his planning right away. Instead, he mulled over Jade's words. Feelings for you? He couldn't deny he did feel a strong attraction to you, but he never really thought too much about it. Did you think he had feelings for you? Did you care about him the same way he cared about you?

The thought made butterflies swarm in his stomach and his cheeks burn hotter. Perhaps, during your surprise party in a week, he could tell you all the feelings he felt for you. He could tell you just how much he cared about you and wanted to be with you. Sure, the idea scared him half to death, but it was you. You were always so kind to him. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea.

With a deep sigh, he gave a resolute nod. Yes, he'd explain everything during the party, with the sincere hope that everything would go according to plan. He hoped that by confessing his feelings to you, it would be something special that would truly make this year an extra special year to remember.

[poetry-protest-pornography]

Okay, here's some Mafia Wife Tonkla thoughts.

I have an idea for an AU that diverges from canon very early that I've been thinking about for a couple weeks, but this one hit me tonight and I had to type it up. I'll get the other one written in the next day or two, but please enjoy this:

(ao3 here)

Canon verse where they escape, and move out of Bangkok. It's a near miss with Win, and even after learning that Tonkla shot Great, almost losing Tonkla is so terrifying that Korn is sure that if he hadn't pulled Tonkla just that little bit to the left, if he’d been a half a breath slower, if Tonkla had died, that he would have taken his own life immediately after. Tonkla has been his reason for everything since college, without him, Korn has nothing to live for. 

So he forgives him (Great is out of the woods now, and Korn is so, so grateful and relieved; he loves his brother more than anything – anything except for Tonkla. He hopes he gets to hug his brother again, and scold him for smoking, and tell him he's sorry, but he needs Tonkla to breathe. He's not proud of it, but he won't deny Tonkla ever again).

Korn has the money and the phone with the contacts, and a list of burner identities. 

They get a modest house, trying to stay under the radar. Tonkla gets therapy to deal with Dome’s death, they work on their communication; Korn apologizes a lot. He apologizes until Tonkla tells him to stop, because he's already forgiven (it takes a lot, but not as much as it probably should, because Tonkla needs Korn just as much as Korn needs him.) They get a cast, and then another one to keep the first one company.

After they've been settled for a while – decorated the house and had a frankly absurd amount of sex (no condoms, finally. Tonkla is thrilled and Korn has developed a probably unhealthy come kink as a result of that enthusiasm) – they have a discussion about what they're going to do now.

Tonkla could do the programming and design that he used to do, Korn could get a management job easily, and they could make a comfortable, quiet life. 

Only, the phone is in a lockbox in a  drawer in their closet, it's the only thing in it.

Tonkla is the one who brings it up. Korn is… not sure he can do it. He was only ever interested in the actual business part of his family business. The illegal stuff was a surprise, and he only tried so hard to make it work because of he did well and got to take over from his dad, he could finally be with Tonkla properly.

Tonkla thinks it's cute, really, how Korn thinks that he would suggest that Korn give being a criminal another shot. He was not cut out for the violence necessary to running a criminal enterprise.

But Tonkla knows he is.

Korn is very resistant to the idea, but Tonkla gets really honest and confesses that the violence makes him feel powerful. After growing up on the other side of it, being the one to enact it is liberating. He isn't exactly proud of it, but he isn't ashamed either; he was able to free himself and his brother from their father's wrath, and he was able to avenge Dome when someone with more power aimed their rage at him and took him from Tonkla. 

(He has mostly forgiven Great, felt enough remorse that he doesn't have to lie to Korn about being sorry. It helps that he knows Great was just too spineless and selfish at the time to try to help Some. It also helps that turned himself in and he's being prosecuted.)

Korn accepts his confession without question, holds him while he says his piece, and is still holding him after. Korn tells him that there's nothing he could say that would make him leave, or love him any less. And then he proves it by going to their closet, getting the lockbox with the phone, and presenting it to Tonkla with a simple “Where do you think we should start?”

They go through the phone, and figure out who's who with a little bit of Korn’s knowledge, some careful internet searching and minor hacking to confirm dirty dealings.

They decide on the legitimate business first. They need to avoid anything related to what his family used to do, but Korn is confident is his ability to run any type of company, and they decide to start with a medium sized supply operation to get established. They but a space and get up and running before they make any phone calls.

They quickly find that a lot of Korn’s family's contacts are eager for a new way to launder their money. 

They've decided that they don't want to get involved with anyone who is in a business that exploits poor people – Korn remembers Nan and her story, and he doesn't want to pay people who could do what his parent's people did to her friend. And Tonkla's enjoyment of violence only really hits when it's committed against someone who thinks they're important and powerful. 

So, they choose people who mostly fuck over other rich people. Businessmen who manufacture subpar products that the wealthy love to buy to show off their wealth, construction companies who use legal loopholes to shirk responsibilities to their investors, and the like. They do a lot of corporate scavenging and acquisition, taking good fronts from bad people and scooping up their related criminal empires in the deal. Tonkla likes cleaning house after, getting rid of employees on either end who don't fall in line with their “company policy”.

Korn is in fact very good at running a company, and Tonkla enjoys the occasional opportunity for murder that presents itself. Sometimes, they hire someone that they know is going to fuck up, just because Tonkla can feel the itch for it (his first cat still appears to him sometimes, and so he tells Korn, who finds him someone despicable to deal with.)

Their business grows – both the legal one and the illegal one. The more upstanding criminals like working with them because they keep their hands relatively clean, and also because they occasionally take out their competition in the business or criminal world.

They're an even better team than they thought they'd be. Korn is respected and feared in the business world, and Tonkla is feared and respected in the criminal underworld. 

Once, some rich asshole whose daddy let them run a business negotiation tried to screw them over, and then made the mistake of threatening Korn with a fancy gun that he barely knew how to hold. Tonkla has his hand skewered to the conference table with a knife before he can aim it properly, and he leaves with one less finger and a signed contract that heavily favors Korn’s business interests.

He's even generous enough to let him take him the finger with him, since he was so agreeable after he stopped screaming. 

It isn't the last time it happens, but it doesn't happen often. 

Korn finds his motivation for violence when Tonkla gets shot. 

Tonkla was visiting one of their warehouses, checking on operations and inspecting a shipment when an employee who they later discovered had been bribed attacked Tonkla. They struggled with the gun, and in the struggle a bullet hit Tonkla's arm.

Korn has been waiting in the car, as it was meant to be a quick visit – he still didn't have the stomach for the more creative violence that Tonkla gets up to, but he does love watching him intimidate and occasionally beat someone up, but this was supposed to take twenty minutes, tops – after twenty five minutes have passed, he gets a weird feeling and goes to see what's holding him up, only to arrive just as the gun goes off.

He registers the crack of the gun. He registers Tonkla falling to the ground. He registers blood.

The next thing he registers is Tonkla's hand on his shoulder, and his voice telling him “You can stop now, baby”. He realizes very quickly that he is straddling the other man’s legs, and that his hands are covered in blood. The man is still and unrecognizable under the damage Korn has done. His hands are shaking.

Tonkla is looking at him with a look that absolutely should not be on his face while they're both covered in blood, but makes Korn feel an answering spark nonetheless. They fall into a filthy kiss, and it isn't until Tonkla goes to wrap his arms around Korn and his wound screams that either of them realize what they're doing. 

Korn freaks out while Tonkla reassures him over and over that he's fine, it's barely a graze, but Korn takes them immediately to their personal doctor. Tonkla makes arrangements to take care of the body on the way, they hold hands the whole drive.

They do a very careful revaluation of all their people after. 

Korn does reconnect with Great, it's awkward, at first, to have family dinner with Great and Tyme and him and Tonkla, but they all avoid taking about the less than legal things that their involved in, even though Korn has been honest about what they're doing, and it's honestly better than it used to be when their parents were around. 

They get properly married – well, their game identities do – and it feels like Korn has finally fulfilled his promise from all those years ago.

Their marriage is celebrated by their legal business associates, and somehow makes their reputation in the criminal underworld more terrifying, but mostly it makes them very, very happy.

----

I am still very obsessed with this idea, please continue to yell about it with me.

Read on ao3 here

[kfedup]

Regretsy no more

Hey, y'all. It's the lurker here.

I've been in the funkiest of funkless funks for the past few months and over the past few weeks, I've been unpacking why. Seeing how much I'm isolating because of a constellation of health-related issues and generalized depression. Have been considering trying meds. But one thing keeps coming to the surface and I finally decided it's time to deal with it.

The one thing is the only thing in my life that I regret. That thing is never having finished my bachelor's degree.

I'm twice divorced, have lost several important friendships, and moved more times than I can count to places I didn't really want to live to maintain relationships I should have never entered in the first place, but I wouldn't trade any of those things. I don't feel regret about them. Why would I? I discovered who I am and who I am not because I experienced those things. Each of them allowed me to learn how to repair what's possible and how to let go of that which is complete.

I'm very good at this marketing copywriting work but I'm bored senseless. I want to challenge myself and taking online workshops is fine but it's just more interacting through a screen and lord love a duck, my spirit needs more. Plus, I am not using my gifts of communication, empathy, mirroring, and holding space for others in the way I know I am meant to use them. For two years I've felt like I'm wasting what's left of my life.

I am so afraid I will die full of this regret.

The cost has kept me from pulling the trigger on this dream for several years. I wish I started sooner, but clearly, I wasn't miserable enough yet. I'm well and truly stuck in the muck at the bottom of the lake about it now. There's nothing left to do but swim to the surface, so here I go.

Today I applied as a transfer student to the Psychology program at Kent State University to start classes this summer. It will probably take me 3 years to finish the 2 years I have left because I'm a single-income household and will have to work. I'm terrified I won't be able to manage both, but I hope I can rally.

I'm not sure if I'll continue on to get the Psych MA at KSU or go elsewhere to get an MA in Art Therapy after I finish the BA. I also want to get certified in Internal Family Systems therapy, so I'll be 63ish or older starting a new career as a therapist and I feel excited about my future for the first time in... well... I don't even know. A very long time.

I want a career that feels meaningful to me, helps people instead of businesses, and lets me use my gifts. One I can do until I'm dead because I'mma need to work until they're spreading my ashes.

I plan to take a class this summer to dip my toes in.

Holy shit, y'all. Lila will be a senior and I will be a junior on the same campus. She's so supportive and I've been crying happy-scared-overwhelmed-curious-excited tears all day.

Kelly's going back to college. Holy shit.

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

Word count: 2100+

Warnings: mentions of killing - blood, wounds, pain, fear - I tried to be decent and as non descriptive as possible, but..👀

Second chapter this week because every voice matters and counts 😉

Anyway, this one is probably horrible 😅

Part XVI | Part XVIII

You were determined. Right that night after Lucien's visit, you looked up Rhys' office again. Inside you felt cold and empty, somehow disconnected as you knocked on the door. The answer came immediately. Being it other day you would laugh because it seemed as if Rhys lived in his office. When you needed you always found him there. But today wasn't the day.

You peeked in finding him seated behind his desk covered with different documents. At first he didn't pay you any attention, too busy with whatever he was reading. He was frowning at the paper in his hand, the other one played with the pen. You knew what this gesture meant. Something worried him. Or pissed him off. When he was younger he unconsciously played with different objects all the time. The habit almost disappeared as he grew older.

"May I?" Hearing your voice he jerked up and finally looked up from the papers. He blinked as if he didn't hear you come in.

"Y/N? Yeah.. Yeah, sure," Rhys stood up, offering you a seat. He checked the time "Something happened? It's quite late."

Yes, you wanted to shout at him, but you wouldn't do so. A lot of things had happened, the conversation between him and Lucien that you overheard, was one of them. But you already made up your mind. You wouldn't mention Tamlin. He would refuse you as he refused Lucien. Your brother was too stubborn. You came to ask him for the last favour, for the last piece of puzzle. It was strange and hard to explain, but you knew you needed it. At last you were ready.

Your face had to give you away because his jaw tightened and he crossed hands on the chest. His piercing gaze scanned you, his shoulders tensed. Words weren't necessary, he understood.

"It.. it won't be easy," Rhysand spoke slowly. "I won't be able to take out one memory at a time. They are too tangled up. I'll have to break the barrier. The process can be quite unpleasant, maybe even painful and the memories will all come at once. It might be very traumatic experience."

He was trying to warn you, prepare you for inevitable. Of course he was worried for your wellbeing and how it could hurt you, yet he was impatient, too. Since you came he kept asking about that particular night, never really pressuring you about it. However Rhysand eagerly waited for this moment.

Straightening your back you stuck out your chin. Your gaze didn't falter. "I know." You were ready. You'd spent all afternoon preparing for the worst.

Rhysand curled his lip, thinking. "Fine," he spoke after a moment. "But there is one thing I want from you."

"What is it?"

"I want to see it. All. From the start to the end. Everything you remember, not just some glimpses."

You frowned. "Why?"

He pushed off of the desk that he was leaning against and turning away from you headed to the window where lights of the city on the other bank of Sidra shone. He was silent. Minutes passed. You waited.

"I-.. I need to know what he caused."

You swallowed watching his back. You shivered with cold even though the room was warm. "He?"

Rhysand slowly turned back to you, looking straight in your eyes. "Tamlin." His voice wasn't more than a whisper, but it was so harsh, so full of rage you winced as if he slapped you.

"What does he have to do with it?" Your voice was hoarse. Lump grew in your throat and breathing once again became laboured.

"He was the one who told his father where you would be."

"Why would he do that? And how could he know anyway?"

"At that time we were still friends. He knew it because I told him. It'd never occurred to me that something like that could happen."

You held your breath, still shivering. Rhysand watched your trembling hands with hardened expression. You clenched them into fists pressing them to your lap to hide the tremors. "And what will you do after you find out?"

He considered it. "I'll hate him even more," he said at last. "Our father made him pay enough already."

"You won't hurt him?" Rhysand just shook his head. "Can you promise it?"

"I can, but.. I know you care about him even though I'm against it. And I don't get it. Honestly. However I wouldn't hurt you that way. For me you are much more than a promise."

You pressed your lips together. You believed him, you really did. But if you managed to get back to Spring Court, there was no doubt Rhysand would be angry. Very angry. Then anything could happen and you didn't want to risk it. And so thinking about the future, you asked him to make a promise. He didn't hesitate for even a second and did what you asked him for.

You felt a prickling sensation on your right shoulder. Rhysand rolled up his right sleeve. With awe you watched as a tattoo of small rose appeared on his forearm and you knew that its twin was on your shoulder.

Now you could start.

It was just as Rhysand warned you. He couldn't untangle the threads no matter how hard he tried and to get them out he had to destroy the barrier. As soon as it was down the confused images that chased you in the nightmares came alive.

You were camping with your mother and a few other females and children on the rocky bank of the river in Illyrian mountains. It was peaceful time and you had a lot of fun sitting with them around the campfire, listening to the stories. After eating some more marshmallows you all retired to own tents for the night.

Several hours later you were woken up by screams and smell of smoke and something metallic. Bed next to you was empty. You crept through the tent on all fours and peeked out.

The ground was smeared with blood, some of the tents were burning, females protecting their children, were trying to hide or run away, but all of them were met with the same fate. Small group of males slaughtered them on the spot or hurt them enough, so they couldn't move, and dragged them to the center of the camp. Blood dripped from their swords, wild grins on their faces. They spared no one.

You were terrified, but you knew the second you would make any noise, even the smallest, they would notice you. Your muscles locked on the spot and only thing you could do, was watching the horror around.

Movement at the edge of the campsite caught your attention. A blond hair male appeared. Your eyes widened. You knew him. It was the young male from Spring Court who you saw with your brother once. His clothes were clean, without a single drop of blood. He was unarmed and looked around in horror. Your eyes met for a moment. His mouth moved as if he was telling you to stay hidden.

Then he grabbed one of the girls and.. in a flash of light her features changed. Now she looked exactly like you. Your heart painfully throbbed in your chest. What did he just do?

Another male with sword came into view, getting close to him. The male was older, his clothes and light colored hair were stained with blood, but that was all you could say about him. You didn't see his face.

The male laughed. "Great job, son! We were looking for this little bitch."

He grabbed the girl. "Now return home," he ordered to young male.

Tamlin didn't move, his eyes jumping between the male and the girl. He didn't dare to even look your direction. "But.."

"I told you to leave!" male snapped, authority of high lord in his voice. Tamlin gritted his teeth as his body bent and then he winnowed away.

You watched as male dragged the girl to the group gathered in the center of camp where you all sat around campfire only several hours earlier.

Females and children who survived cried in pain. The male tossed girl to them. A female reached for girl, tugging her to her chest to protect her. It was your mother. Her wings were broken, blood seeping from deep wound on her side. She was pale, but baring her teeth she said something. You didn't hear her through all the cries and crackling of the fire. All males boomed with laughter.

Then they took one person after another and cut their throats in front of your mother. She didn't cry, refusing to give them what they sought. Soon enough your mother and the girl were the only ones alive.

One of the males reached for the girl. Your mother fought him, but he was stronger. He punched her to the face and for a moment her grip on the girl weakened. Male snatched the girl, dragging her to the pile of bodies. Other two males gripped your mother's arms when she tried to get to her.

This time it wasn't fast death that waited for the girl. First, the oldest of them cut the membranes of her wings. Girl screamed in pain, but the male who dragged her there, held her in place. Then slowly they cut off her wings making it as painful as possible. At some point girls shrieks stopped as she fainted. At last they cut her head off, tossing it to your mother's knees.

Your mother screamed at the top of her lungs and cried this time. When the oldest of the males moved toward your mother you couldn't watch it anymore. You curled to ball, your body was shaking uncontrollably and not only with sobs. Closing eyes you pressed hands to your ears, but you still heard your mother's screams until they fell silent.

You didn't know how long you lay there. Maybe you even fainted for a moment. A strong hand grabbed your elbow, dragging you to your feet. It was one of the younger males.

"Look what I found," he grinned. Others were confused.

"Didn't we already take care of her?"

"I could swear I put her head into that box," the other said.

"How is it possible there are two of them?"

You wanted to fight the male who held you. However his grip was so strong you already felt the forming bruises.

Around you stood only the young males, the older one was nowhere to be seen. You managed to slap one with your wing.

"Bitch!" he shouted in anger.

A sharp pain shot through your body. You cried out. One of your wing landed in the dirt, droplets of blood rolled down your arm, clothes on your back became soaked, sticking to your body. Blood dripped on the ground, mixing with the others. Another wave of pain shot through your body as the other wing followed the first one.

You fell to your knees without feeling the impact or the sharp stones cutting into your flesh. It was the most agonizing pain you'd ever felt. Everything blurred before your eyes. Voices around you kept fading and coming back like echo, but you didn't understand a single word. Your world turned upside down.

You had to faint because you didn't remember much of what followed. At one moment you felt hands around your shoulders and under knees, blurred face of older male and night sky above you.

You awoke for a while in a room that looked more like a cell. It was dark and reeked with dirt, blood and magic. So much magic.

You were lying on your stomach, your back was burning. The older male was bending over you, doing something with your wounds. It hurt so much.

Your mind kept switching between unconsciousness and awareness. The buzzing in your head was driving you crazy. You heard muffled voices, but didn't understand what they spoke of. World was spinning with you too fast and you were nauseous. You remembered puking once, but that was all.

And then it suddenly stopped. Fresh air filled your lungs, stretching them delightfully. You opened your eyes, looking around.

Soft green light was penetrating through the windows. You were lying in a soft bed. You felt strangely empty and little confused. But there was no pain and that was the only thing that mattered. Who would care in that situation about not remembering anything, about not knowing where you were and how you got there. It didn't hurt anymore. And that mattered the most.

Taglist:

@impossibelle @sevikas-whore @b0xerdancer @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @tele86 @mybestfriendmademe @nocasdatsgay @yunloyal @nebarious @isabiss @st0rmyt @lilah-asteria @ubigaia @paleidiot