Hi Becca! I would literally die for you blog. It’s my go to any time I need some good self care😉. You’re incredibly talented!
But I’ve had this idea bouncing around in my head. It boils down to just Bucky and cock warming. Like the reader is on him begging for more but he is just having way to much fun playing with their clit to start moving. Making them cum on him with out thrusting once.
Just an idea I thought you might like. I love you work, have a great day!!
I'm really glad you've been enjoying my stuff so much!! That's so sweet!💗 and I keep getting told I can get ✨filthier✨ so I'd love to mess with this is little bit
Because I love the thought of Bucky making you start off with a dildo that's just a little bit smaller in size than he is. Maybe one of those dildos with a suction cup on the bottom so it's stuck on a wooden chair.
"Good girl, take it all." He encourages, kneeling between your legs, watching your cunt greedily swallow the toy. It's a sight he doesn't often get to see and he's really not sure why he doesn't make a point of watching it more often.
You whine quietly, feeling the toy bottom out. Your ass makes contact with the cool, varnished wood beneath you and you can't help but roll your hips a little, enjoying the feeling of the tip rubbing against your velvety walls.
"If I wanted you to fuck yourself on that, I'd tell you to. Did I tell you to?" Bucky's voice has a sharp edge that almost knocks you out of your daze.
"N-no... But-" You begin, trying to justify your movement but he cuts you off.
"No. So don't. I want you to keep your cunt stuffed and take what I give you." He watches up at you as he presses your knees apart, keeping his eyes on your face until he can't bare it anymore.
You gasp quietly at the feeling of his hot breath on your exposed, slick sex and there's nothing you can do but whimper at the feeling of his tongue gently grazing your clit.
Fuck, it's good. It's not long before he's licking you like he's starving, lapping and sucking gently on your clit before forcing your legs wider apart to lick your arousal from the base of the toy.
"Bucky, please. Please let me move." You didn't mean to sound so pathetic but with each lick, you get closer and closer to an orgasm you won't be able to stop. An orgasm you've been warned you're not allowed to have.
You're almost surprised he takes pity on you, giving you permission to get off the toy. He removes it from the chair and sits down in it's place, offering his cock as a replacement.
You sit back down as you had earlier with your back to his chest but you can't help but feel amazed at how much better his dick feels. He's slightly bigger and while that's nice, nothing beats the way he throbs inside you and the hot, breathy groans against your ear at the feeling of your body taking all of him.
"Such a good girl." He smirks against your neck, littering your skin with kisses between his soft praises. You feel one of his hands on your chin, gently directing you to look to your right, over in the direction of the full length mirror.
The reflection you're looking at makes your walls flutter involuntarily because fuck, you really are stuffed full of his cock and he's making sure you're not able to fully enjoy it yet.
With one hand still holding your head in place, making sure you keep watching, Bucky's free hand trails down between your legs, flicking and rubbing your clit again.
"Oh f-fuck." You whine, watching Bucky's smirk widen. You can't sit still. You just can't. You want to grind your hips and take what you need and in that moment, his pleasure and all the instructions he's given you come second. You need to get off, consequences be damned.
"Don't even fucking think about it." He warns, delivering one harsh slap to your clit. It's not overly hard but it's enough to shock you. "You know you're not allowed to cum. I want to feel this pretty pussy dripping first. Don't worry though. Once you're wet and messy enough, I'll fuck you stupid on the carpet, right in front of the mirror. Want you to watch yourself cum so hard you forget your own name."
you can do one where female reader and jenna are interviewing and at some point they start staring intensely and jenna kisses the reader knowing that jenna wanted to keep the fans informed about their relationship while the reader didn't because she's very shy ? ;)
Word count: 2.0K
Summary: request above
Pairing: Jenna Ortega X Fem!Reader
Ughhh this was so cute to write! I hope y’all like it!🤍✨
Your first ever role as an actress was a blast, you didn’t expect all the fame that came with it and most particularly all the love from fans and from one person in particular. Jenna Ortega. You two had met on set of her new series “Wednesday”. You portrayed one of the member of nightshade and even though you were a side character you still got some importance and some recognition for the role you portrayed. You have always admired that girl, and even though you two didn’t really know each other at first, when you shot your first scene together you started spending more time together and grew real close.
You would spend a lot of time in her trailer at night after the recordings finished and you two had grown really intimate with each other. She would snuggle up to you and viceversa, you eventually developed some feelings for her and even though you were too shy to admit them, you didn’t have to because she was the first one to kiss you. From that day on you got together and started out your relationship together. She had been pushing a lot to make your relationship public, but no one knew you a lot yet, you were afraid of being judged by her fans so you always asked her to not make it public just yet, at least wait until people knew you better, and she always respected your decision.
Fast forward to today, you were going on your first premiere ever. The show had been out for about a week now, of course everyone had already binge watched it a lot of times. You and Jenna were about to leave her apartment and you stood nervously in the hall as you waited for Jenna. “Honey are you almost done? The premiere starts soon! You don’t want to be late right?” You called for her nervously, and you heard her laugh from the other room before catching up to you. Your jaw immediately dropped as you saw her coming out of her room, god she looked gorgeous. Of course she was wearing her black outfit with the black thin veil on her head. “Wow… you look-“ you put your hands on her waist as you gently pulled her close to you. “You look amazing” she smiled at your comment, gently biting her own lip as she looked at you as well.
“Have you seen yourself? You’re like, the most stunning person I’ve ever seen. No wonder why you’re my girlfriend” she said putting her hands on her cheek. That made you blush a lot and in this position you couldn’t look away. She loved making you blush. You were wearing a white top with a black skirt, nothing too elegant as you weren’t the protagonist of the night, your girlfriend was. Not that you minded that, you weren’t one for attentions. “Come on let’s go” she took your hand as you headed to the door “Jenna wait,” you stopped and she turned around to look at you, brows furrowed in confusion. “We’re not… gonna go public tonight, right?” You asked, fidget with your own fingers in anxiety and looking worried.
“Honey…” Jenna said, once again walking closer to you and taking your hand gently. “We’ll have to eventually-“ you interrupted her soon enough “I know that Jenna, but please, not today..” she looked at you with pleading eyes, which only led you to talk again “it’s the first time they see me, it’s the first time people want to interview me and I’m already nervous for this, please just let’s not add to it with going public. No one knows me well and-“ your girlfriend interrupted you again, seeing you were about to panic. “Babe, calm down” she squeezed your hand, making you look at her “we’re not gonna go public, okay? I get it that you’re nervous but really the interviews are not a big deal, you’ll get used to it” she smiled and you nodded having calmed down a bit. Shen pulled you in for a sweet kiss before heading to the premiere, in two different cars as to not get noticed too much.
When you arrived, of course you didn’t get much recognition, having portrayed a side character, but there was still a small group of people that loved you and that yelled in admiration when you got out of the car. If you wanted to get used to this, you knew you’d had to stop being shy and get used to all of this. However at some point everyone else started arriving too, and you went and said hi to them with a small hug, including your girlfriend as you didn’t want to draw too much attentions on the two of you. Then, you decided to stop by a few people and talk with them, take photos with them so that you’d get used to it. However, all of you got soon called to the carpet to start taking pictures. You didn’t know how to pose, but you followed everyone else and eventually posed. You were standing right behind Jenna and all you wanted to do was turn her around and kiss her.
Eventually after the pictures with all of us were taken, we were split up for single photos. “(Y/N) over here please!” This sentence kept ringing in your ears the whole time, people wanted to take photos with you and you didn’t know where to look, but eventually ended up posing for the cameras like you were supposed to and looking in different cameras for each pictures. This was all too overwhelming for you, the confusion, the too many people. You didn’t like this one bit. This is why after the last Photo Booth you quickly ran backstage, trying to calm down your nerves. You drank a whole bottle of water and fixed your hair as you tried to breathe slower, but it was getting hard.
“Hey Jen, have you seen (Y/N)? Journalists have been looking for her but she’s not around” Emma asked her when she saw Jenna finish up with her interview. Of course the cast crew knew about the relationship and also knew that you wanted to keep private, so she talked quietly. “The last time I saw her she was on the carpet taking pictures, isn’t she there?” She replied her own questions after looking over at the carpet and seeing no one. “I’ll go check backstage” Emma nodded at her statement and watched as Jenna went backstage. She did find you, but you were in the middle of a panic attack.
“(Y/N)? Hey, calm down love” she said walking over to you as she took your face in her hands, making you look at her as she saw the panicked tears in your eyes. “What’s wrong?” She asked quietly. She hated seeing you like this, it didn’t happen often. You were too panicked to even talk to her so she started whispering sweet nothings to you and trying to calm you down, all while the journalists were looking for you outside. “Do you feel like you can talk to me now? It’s okay if you can’t” she reassured you, but eventually you managed to talk. “Jen this is too much for me, there are too many people, I don’t know how to act, it’s so strange and different for me I don’t know how to deal with it” you started, this whole time Jenna kept a hand on your cheek, gently caressing it to calm you down.
“Love I completely understand how you feel… my first time to a premiere was like this too. I know how to help you” she said and gave you a small smile as she fixed your make up that had smeared with the crying. “Now we’re gonna go back outside together. If you get called for interviews I’ll make them with you. I won’t leave you alone okay? I’ll be there the whole time.” She suggested. It took you a while, but eventually you accepted and went with her, holding hands until you were completely outside, people started cheering for the both of you again. “Can you handle it?” She asked nicely and you nodded, taking a deep breath as you went for your first ever interview.
“Well good Evening (Y/N)! You look gorgeous!” The interviewer said. You were aware that interviews at premieres were like this, but hearing the words directed at yourself was very much different. You blushed and smiled brightly as the interviewer made compliments to Jenna too. “Thank you so much, it’s nice being here” you said smiling as you looked around. “And it’s nice having you here! Am I right saying this is your first ever interview as an actress and on set with THE Jenna Ortega?” The woman asked. She was being very nice, you were quite comfortable with her questions. “Yes this is my first ever interviews. I have to say that I didn’t expect all this recognition but it’s really nice actually. It was also my first time on a tv show set, but it was amazing. Everyone was amazing, too. I made really good friends with everyone, especially with Jenna” you said looking at her who was now at your side. You stared at her briefly, glancing from her eyes to her lips and viceversa.
“She’s become kind of like my best friend, that is” you said as you turned back to the interviewer. “She is the nicest person I ever met I have to say” she smiled at your words and stared at you back in awe. “You said you didn’t expect this much recognition right? How is that?” The woman asked. “Well, I’ve never acted in my life before the show and even if I portrayed a side character, the experience taught me a lot. Usually side characters don’t get loved a lot, but mine did and it’s lovely because that means that I did a great job, and I’m so proud of that and of what that made me” you nodded as you spoke your words. The interview continued for a while more and the woman started asking more personal questions.
“So, people here want to know, are you in a relationship with anyone at the moment? Because a lot of fans have been simping over you and they want to know” the question made you blush and stare at Jenna. You didn’t know how to reply to that and you smiled awkwardly. “Well uh- it’s…” you looked at Jenna once again, who eventually came into the view of the camera and kissed you softly, caressing your cheek. After a while she pulled back and you looked down embarrassed. “Yes, she’s in a relationship. With me if you didn’t understand that” Jenna said right after the kiss. the interview finished like that as you heard the fans around you scream and cheer in excitement. Your cast members were happy as hell too. Jenna being the happiest of them all as you had turned as red as a tomato
When the night was over you two stepped in the same car and the autist started driving you towards your shared apartment. “Jen you’re so freaking crazy!” You told her as you laughed and jokingly pushed her shoulder. She looked at you with nothing but love. “Well I made you less nervous didn’t I?”
The Ribbon (Part XVII of Crush)
Pairing: Javier Peña x Fem!Reader/OFC!Isabel
Summary: You and Javier start a new day.
Rating: Explicit 18+ (By proceeding to read beyond this warning, you are agreeing that you are 18 years or older)
Content Warnings: Removed due to spoilers but there is nothing new in terms of warnings if you have been reading up to this point
Word Count: 10.7K
A/N: I will be holding onto asks with spoilers until Wednesday night (Jan 4th). I will also tag them with #crushspoilers.
To @frannyzooey who continues to be the best cheerleader and friend. Love you, my wife.
And to Crush Fam, who has stayed with me on this journey. I love you all. Additional author's note at the end.
To be notified when I post new content, please turn on notifications for my writing blog @ren-browne-writes
Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Part 16 | Part 18
He used to fall asleep to the song of cicadas.
The synchronized drone rose and receded like a wave through his open window, accompanied by the rhythmic creaking of his overworked ceiling fan as he tried to stay cool enough to sleep through a hot summer night. He had a book in his hand while he pictured being someplace else, while he waited for another morning that would be just the same.
Now he falls asleep to an explosive ribbon of bullets.
The rapid eruption of sound on the street outside ricochets between buildings before it makes its way into his apartment, the volume only magnified by the blank walls and empty rooms. He keeps a police radio in his hand while he thinks about finding something to help buffer the sound, while he waits for the blare of sirens that rarely come.
He used to recognize everyone.
The same faces he’s seen since childhood looked up to greet him whenever he made his way through town, long hellos and extensive goodbyes on every street corner and in every store as he repeated the same story they all already knew. His grin widened as he thought about planting a piece of gossip just to see how far it went, as he wondered if his mother or her best friend would get wind of it first.
Now he recognizes so few.
The neighbors keep their heads down in doorways and alleyways as he makes his way through the city, quick nods and short dismissals as he’s given new orders that always amount to the same. His frown deepens as he thinks about planting a piece of information just to see who he can trust, as he wonders if he even wants to know how alone he really is.
He used to want to make a difference.
Leave his small mark on a big wide world, do something that mattered, see things that others hadn’t. His plans were always five steps ahead of where he was standing, but he was willing to leap without caring where he landed. He just needed the chance. He had one hand on the steering wheel and one out the window as he drove down memory-imprinted backroads, while he figured out which one would get him out of there fastest.
Now he just wants it to stop.
Leave this world with one less gaping wound, get one step closer instead of two steps back… He’s already seen too much. He still leaps without caring where he lands just as long as it’s only him that breaks at the bottom. He has one hand on a glass of whiskey and one hand digging through files as he searches for information he’s already been through too many times, as he figures out a way to make sure they lose even if he can’t win.
He used to know his way back home.
Now he’s not so sure.
He can’t make himself let go.
Not with the way you cling to him just as tightly, your trembling and your tears gradually subsiding. For what feels like a long time, he can’t seem to stop shaking either, too many words from too many voices reverberating through his head, but he tries to only hear yours. To focus on yours.
A savage edge of panic accompanies each instant where he thinks you might be pulling away, and he finds himself searching your every shift for signs that you are now going to do what he had expected you to do hours ago. But he still isn’t ready. He isn’t ready for it to be over. Not nearly ready to lose again, especially if it’s you.
There’s a frantic chaos to his thoughts as he struggles to pull together the words to beg you to stay even though he still doesn’t know if he should. A half-assembled, half-coherent plea for your forgiveness already on his tongue at the same moment your mouth seeks his, your hair threading between his fingers as he skims his hand from your cheek to the nape of your neck. Your small sigh steals his breath just before you give it back to him again. And again. And again.
His mouth. His jaw. His neck. His brow. Every press of your lips on his skin is paired with his murmured apologies and your whispered reassurances. At last starting to make his heartbeat slow, make his mind go quiet. To strip away whatever shredded resolve he has left to try to leave.
Without it, he can’t help sagging back against the wall with you still in his arms, the exhaustion from the last several days hitting him again at full force. So overwhelmingly complete that he isn’t sure how he manages to get to his feet without his arm around your shoulders, your smaller frame leaning into and supporting his larger one as you guide him to his bed.
His bed. And yours. He doesn’t want it without you in it.
“I know you’re tired,” you tell him as you get him to where he’s sitting on the side of the bed, his shoulders low with the crushing weight of keeping himself upright. You’re afraid if you stop touching him right now that he’ll fall either forward or back, and you just hope for both of your sakes that it’s the latter.
“Don’t go to sleep yet,” you tell him, trying to move quickly because you’re really not sure how much longer he’s going to be able to help it. “Let me get you out of these clothes first.”
His eyebrows raise along with his head, his warm brown eyes blinking open to fix you with an interested look you know well, and you let out an exasperated sigh as your fingers start to fly over his shirt buttons. The corresponding shake of your head as much at yourself as it is at him because your body’s response to that look also happens to be one you know well.
“Don’t get any ideas,” you scold him, your tone far more gentle with him now than it’s been since his truck pulled into the driveway. “We’re not done talking, your clothes smell like cigarette smoke, and you’re very clearly about three minutes away from passing out.”
“Plenty I could do with three minutes,” he tells you confidently, the impact lessened slightly by the way he sways when you push the loose button-up from his shoulders, but there’s still the ghost of a smile on his lips when he sees you fail to hold back your own.
The expression stays even as his eyes start to drift shut again, right up until the moment he tugs the tail of his shirt free from his jeans, and there’s a soft thud onto the bed behind him. He reaches for the fallen object he had tucked beneath his waistband before showing it to you.
“I didn’t want to leave it on the couch,” he explains, carefully watching your face as his hands hold your diary, and he’s quick to confirm, “I haven’t looked at it yet.”
You feel relieved, not sure you have it in you to discuss it tonight. So much so that you miss at first the way he’s giving you the chance to take it back from him. To easily reclaim the thing you had practically shoved at him in the heat of your anger.
Part of you wants to. Part of you wants to snatch the diary back so you can hide it away again. The instinct strong after so long with the diary as your secret, with him as your secret.
But the other part… You look at his face. All the lingering hurt, the broken edges, the stubborn worry. And you just want him to know how loved he is. To know how loved he’s always been.
Your fingers skim along the yellow ribbons holding the pages closed before you take the diary from his hands and set it on your bedside table. Your decision no different in the aftermath than it had been in the explosion.
“We can look at it together tomorrow,” you say, turning your full attention back to him, and as he nods, you can see the glint of burning curiosity in his eyes even as he struggles to keep them open.
Going back to his task, Javier splays his legs slightly as he moves his hands down to his belt to slip off his jeans, and despite your best efforts, your mind switches gears almost immediately, your mouth going a bit dry at the sound of the leather and metal sliding together.
You were just yelling at him less than an hour ago and now you’re just trying not to climb into his lap again.
His eyes flick to yours, watching you watch him, and your hands bunch at your side so you don’t torment you both by taking over.
Jesus, get it together.
Maybe you should take a minute. Clear your thoughts.
“I’m going to go ge–” you start to say, and his head immediately shoots up as he moves to stand, his jeans falling low on his hips now that the top button is undone, and you swear that you drink in every inch of him like it’s been weeks instead of a couple days since you had him as close as you currently want him.
“You don’t need to go,” he tells you, brow furrowing and voice a low rasp. “You should have the bed. I can sleep on the couch.”
“What?” You shake your head to clear it, not understanding how this conversation took a sudden turn back in that direction and feeling immediately anxious at the thought of him leaving again. “No, that’s not…”
“I know you’re still mad at me. You should be, and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable if you’d rather be alone,” he tells you, voice tight. “I should be the one to– You don’t need to go. I’ll take the couch.”
“I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you,” you tell him, pushing a hand against his chest to keep him in place. “You’re not making me uncomfortable. I didn’t mean–” You sigh, hating how broken everything still feels but also knowing you won’t fix everything tonight. “Javi, I don’t want you to sleep on the couch. I was only going to go get some water.”
“Oh.” He exhales, squeezing his eyes shut before stepping back to sit on the bed again. “Right. Sorry, fuck, I…” He lets his head drop into his hands. “I’m sorry.”
You step forward after him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and running your fingers through his hair while he lifts his head to press his face into your abdomen. When he glances up to meet your eyes, you bend down to kiss him slowly, trying to keep the pace soothing even with more than enough tension simmering beneath the surface.
“Stay with me,” you tell him a few moments later, pressing your forehead to his and hoping he knows you don’t just mean tonight. “Stay with me.”
He nods, shoulders relaxing a fraction as he watches you move away, but you still see the way he grips his quilt in each hand as if it’s the only thing keeping him in place. Keeping him anchored, and your heart cracks just a bit more than it already had.
The words repeat in your mind as you step out into the hall, and the anger they inspire feels like a living thing, gnashing its teeth through the bars of its barely constructed cage. Just waiting for the first opportunity to lunge.
How much longer?
As you had pushed Javier’s shirt away you hadn’t been able to help searching his skin, looking for bruises or marks. For signs that a physical altercation had gone along with the verbal one with your father, even though you know that isn’t what happened. That it isn’t the method your father had used, had chosen, and you wonder if when he did…
If he knew how much longer it would take to heal.
You’re only gone a few minutes, but when you return, Javier is standing by the dresser, already changed into a pair of sweats and one of the same soft cotton tees that you are so partial to stealing. He stoops to toss his recently discarded clothes into the far corner of the room before crossing to you and taking the water you are holding out for him.
“Thanks, bonita,” he mutters before obediently draining the glass in a few long pulls and setting it down beside your diary on the nightstand. A few of the drops still clinging to his mustache when you lean up to kiss him again before taking his hand and taking him back to bed.
It’s easier then. When you have him right next to you, his body lying against yours without any space in between. Your head on his shoulder and your hand on his chest as his arm wraps around you. It’s easier to believe it when you tell him that it will be alright, hoping he managed to stay awake long enough to hear you and believe it, too. To hear you ask one more time for him to stay.
You get your answer a few minutes later, feeling his hand cover yours over his chest and intertwining your fingers so that they’re locked together. “Okay.”
So deep that he doesn’t even dream. Or if he does, he doesn’t remember.
He doesn’t really remember any of it until the moment his eyes first crack open. Not sure what had even woken him as he peers into his fully sunlit bedroom, content with the feeling of you next to him even if he is also borderline disoriented by the sensation of feeling so… Rested? But also as if he could sleep for days more.
Not that it’s an option.
A fact made abundantly clear to him when everything comes back as abruptly and painfully as a slammed bedroom door.
Fuck, what had he done? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Your father. The DEA. His dad. Yesterday’s full series of fuck ups coming screaming back, including every single one he’d ever made when it came to you.
Fuck, what had he done?
He shifts just enough to be able to see you, taking in your face that’s still slightly puffy from crying as you sleep burrowed against him. Neither him nor you apparently having moved much at all from the way you’d fallen asleep.
He skims his lips against your brow while murmuring a silent prayer of gratitude that he somehow hasn’t lost you completely, trying to keep himself from waking you just so he can be sure.
Why can’t this time be the dream? Why can’t yesterday be the thing that is all in his head? Just one more instance of his nightmares running too close to reality, but–
A loud clanging sound from down the hall makes him jump, the metallic ringing quickly followed by the sound of voices, and he has just enough time to register that a similar noise is likely what had woken him before you’re stirring at his side.
“Morning,” you mutter sleepily, settling right back in against him. “Did you sleep?”
“I did…” There’s more sounds from down the hall, cabinet doors opening and closing in quick succession. You grumble at him when he sits up, apparently far less concerned than he is by the disturbance. “What the fuck is that?”
“Reinforcements,” you say with a yawn, turning over and stealing his pillow since he is apparently no longer suitably fulfilling that role. “Five more minutes.”
“Isa,” he says slowly, continuing to listen and trying to pick out distinct voices from the din. “What do you mean reinforcements?”
You sigh before turning back over. “She insisted.”
“Who insisted?” he repeats, trying to wake up enough to determine the level of threat.
You press your lips together, your expression not quite apologetic but certainly sympathetic. “She knows you went to the DEA office, and when she called later to check in, you still weren’t back, and she’s been very worried so I told her she could— Well really I asked her to—” There’s more noise from the kitchen and you pat his leg before rolling back into his pillow. “Anyway, best of luck.”
“Isa–” he starts, because he’s certain even without your explanation that one of the voices is the only one he knows on this earth that can manage to convey that much authority even when he can’t make out the words. “Is your mother in my kitchen right now?”
You look over your shoulder towards the door, cocking your head to listen as you stretch and move to get up. “Pretty sure Gabe and Eli are, too.”
When he just stares at you from the bed, you put your hands on your hips and stare back. “Well you scared the hell out of everyone. No one wants you going back into the DEA.”
“Not no one.” he reminds you, feeling guilty when he sees your eyes fall to the floor. “Sorry. Look, don’t worry about it. I’m just surprised they’re here. That’s all.”
Javier had expected you to be upset about his decision. His dad, too. But given what your own father had to say, he hadn’t expected to hear much about it from the rest of your family. Even with how close he’d started to become with Gabe. Even knowing how your mother had reacted when he’d first left eight years ago.
What Aarón Sr. said had always been what went… Although that was before you had practically told him to go fuck himself in the church parking lot.
“Hey, listen to me.” You crawl into bed again, situating yourself in his lap, and even with sheets, his clothes and yours between, it’s hard not to notice you are now in a very idea-inducing location. “They’re just here because they’re worried and because they care about you. Everyone was angry with my dad when they found out what happened. Not even Aarón took his side.”
Javier snorts, but the corner of his mouth tugs up at the thought of your father’s prize son failing to provide backup. “Really?”
You nod before giving him a pointed look. “You know it’s bad when Aarón doesn’t even think it’s a good idea.”
Javier chuckles. “Hard to argue with that.” He catches one of your hands where it rests against his chest, bringing it to his mouth to kiss your palm. “I’m so sorry, bonita. I just— I just kept thinking… What if he was right? You deserve someone who will make you happy, and what if I’m too fucked up to be able to take care of you like I should?”
“You are not. Javi, we take care of each other. And you do make me happy,” you tell him adamantly before adding, “At least you do when you’re not trying to flee the country.”
He huffs out another laugh. “I wasn’t exactly fleeing—” You give him that look again. “Okay, maybe I was. I didn’t think I would be able to go through with it otherwise.”
“And now?” Your eyes search his own. “Are you going to go through with it now?”
He fidgets under the weight of your question, briefly looking away as that voice in the back of his head rears up to tell him that he’s being naïve, selfish, greedy. That someday you really will look at him and wonder what your life would’ve been like if he’d never come back.
He clears his throat, trying to buy himself time to sift through the noise. “Seeing as how I didn’t even make it a night on the couch.”
“Javi.” Your hands cup his face so he’ll look at you again. “Do you want to go back to the DEA? Because if that’s what you want…”
“No.” He shakes his head, trying to also shake off the clawing fear he still has of your threat to follow him, to put yourself in that kind of danger because of him. “No. I don’t want to go back. That wasn’t what it was.”
You let out a relieved sigh. “Then don’t. We can figure out a way to undo whatever has been done. I’ve actually been meaning to tell you that I talked to—” Javier opens his mouth, and your eyes flash. “Don’t you dare say you’re going to handle it yourself. We’re not doing that anymore.”
“I know,” he tells you, taking your hands again and giving them a comforting squeeze. “That’s not what I was going to say.”
“Oh,” you say softly. “What were you going to say then?”
His jaw clenches, almost as if to keep the words in, but he knows he needs to say them. Needs you to hear them, too.
“You are what I want, and even if I’d gone back into the DEA, I would’ve gone back wanting you. I’m always going to want you.” He releases one of your hands so he can brush your hair back from your face, his heart thudding in his chest when you turn and kiss his palm as he just had yours. “And I don’t want you to think that leaving you would have done anything less than killed me.”
He means it. Even if the heartbreak hadn’t done it, he is confident that one more round of war with the cartels would have, and you seem to know it, too, because your eyes are brimming with fresh tears when you ask, “Would you really never have come back?”
He shakes his head again, voice thick with emotion, and he bites out the first response that comes to mind before he has a chance to really think about it. “And have to see you living a life with someone else? Married to someone else? Holding someone else’s kids?”
He manages to stop himself there, watching your eyes go more than a little wide at his words. Shit.
“I mean…” Well it’s out there now. Might as well be upfront since hiding hasn’t gotten him anything but in trouble. “No, that’s exactly what I meant. No, I wouldn’t have come back because I wouldn't be able to take—”
You stop his words for him this time, and he barely manages to keep himself upright as you collide into him without restraint, your mouth on his as you shift in his lap. The hitch in your breathing when he presses back into you letting him know he’s not the only one getting ideas, and he wants you bad enough that he knows he wouldn’t hesitate if you gave him the word. Even with most of your family down the hall.
He can be quiet. He can help keep you quiet.
“Someone else’s kids?” you repeat above him between kisses, your arms wrapped tight around him as if you’re still afraid he’ll slip away. “Does that mean you’d like me to be holding yours?”
“Yes. Fuck, yes,” he murmurs, gripping the plush weight of your thighs as if he shares your same worry, each of his thumbs rubbing small, slow circles into your skin that could be interpreted as soothing. For you and for him. That is if he wasn’t really picturing doing it somewhere else…
Christ, you’re so pretty when you come, and even though it’s only been a couple days, it feels like it’s been far too long since he’s seen it. He wants to.
“I’d be good with that,” you say, rolling your hips to grind against him in a slow rhythm while he leans forward to run his nose and his mouth along your throat. You tremble, letting out a soft sigh. “Really good with it.”
“Thank fuckin’ Christ.” He tugs your shirt collar to the side to expose the slope of your shoulder and lets his mouth make its way there, teeth digging in just enough to remind you without leaving a reminder. You let out a soft moan, and fuck all he can think about is getting you onto your back, legs spread for him, your hands in his hair, and his—
There’s another surge of sound from down the hall, and he really doesn’t give a fuck if the whole house falls down. He’ll build a new one. He’ll rebuild this one and one for you and him if that’s what it takes to get some fucking privacy so he can have you all the ways he wants.
There’s a soft knock on the door a few moments later that he refuses to hear, too busy with one of his hands pulling up your shirt and the other down the back of your sweats so he can guide your movements. If he just ignores it, they’ll surely fuck off.
The knock immediately gets louder.
“God, what?” you snap out, annoyed, and your voice is breathy enough that Javier laughs a bit even if he’s not sure he would have managed to speak at all.
There’s a pause until, on the other side of the door, Gabe sounds truly upset to be the messenger as he says, “You’re being summoned.”
Less than ten minutes later you’re both dressed in chore clothes, teeth brushed, Javier’s hair as close to manageable as he can get it while yours swings in a ponytail while you make your way down the hall in front of him towards the kitchen.
There’s less activity now. And you think your brothers and presumably Javier’s dad must have already been herded outside, though you can still hear your mamá moving around the kitchen.
You’re almost to the doorway when the sharp ring of the telephone breaks the quiet, the sound exceedingly short-lived due to the way the handset is promptly picked up and no more than a half minute passes before it’s abruptly crashed back down into the cradle. The accompanying string of profanity that follows so at odds with the voice that creates it that you draw up short only to have Javier do the same.
“Have you ever heard your mother curse like that?” he mutters close to your ear as he stands behind you, and you shake your head. “Nope.”
“Javier. Isabel,” she shouts from the kitchen, still thinking you’re down the hall judging by the volume. How is it that mothers manage to infuse each syllable of a name with a threat?
Javier freezes as you try not to laugh, tilting your head to the side as you look up at him and grin. He actually looks afraid. Not that you blame him, but you’re too busy being giddy to feel the same.
You haven’t lost him. You won’t.
With a pleasant hum in your blood, you start to move forward again, but at the last second, you remember the one other topic besides your still-waiting diary that you haven’t gotten to discussing.
“Wait, I forgot,” you mutter as he bumps into you, and when his hands grab your hips to steady himself, you just barely hold back the groan. Far too aware of him given the recent interruption and the topic that had been at hand.
“What is it, bonita?” he mutters, lips ghosting along the shell of your ear and innocently asking as if he has any doubt it’s him, “What did you forget?”
“I, um…” What were you even saying? Surely nothing is as pressing as him pressing into you from behind like he’s doing right now.
You hear your mamá flip on the faucet in the kitchen, and you remember again just as if she’d stuck your head under it.
“Steve,” you mutter, feeling Javier instantly go still. You turn to look up into his bewildered face as he asks, “What?”
“I talked to Steve,” you clarify in a whisper, trying to recover quickly. “He called yesterday while you were at the DEA office.”
Javier frowns. “Right, okay, I owe him a call. Haven’t talked to him in a while. Was everything alright?”
“Well,” you start, trying not to let all your reclaimed happiness evaporate as your stomach twists with nerves. “He said Connie and the kids are good. Thank you for sending them books. And that he will see you tomorrow— I mean, today now, I guess.”
“What?” he asks you again, bending down so he can keep his voice low. “What do you mean he’ll see me today?”
“He’s coming here,” you say, watching for Javier’s reaction. However, confusion seems to still be winning out as he asks, “Why?”
“Because he asked where you were,” you explain as you lace your fingers together. “And I told him.”
“So he’s coming here?” Javier asks, his voice getting bordering on too loud before he lowers it. “When?”
“I’m not sure. He was going to call this morning with his flight info,” you whisper while Javier pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry. I know I should have asked you first before inviting him, but I was going out of my mind, and I didn’t know what was going on, and I thought maybe he could help if you were really set on rejoining the DEA, since he also seemed to think that was a terrible idea.”
“He is still in the DEA. What did he… Nevermind.” Javier sighs.
“I’m sorry,” you tell him again, making a point to confirm your mother still has the water running in the other room. “But since you’re not going back to the DEA, maybe you can just catch up, you know? You like Steve, right? You’ve talked about him like you do.”
“I do,” Javier mutters in an exaggerated whisper. “I love Steve. He’s like a brother to me. One I never wanted or asked for, but really it’ll be good to see him. It’s fine.”
You plant your feet with your hands on your hips. “You don’t act like it’s fine.”
“No, it is,” he says, looking away as his jaw works to the side. “Fuck.”
“They’ve got a new baby at home,” you emphasize, now worried that you might have just undone some of the progress from this morning. “Which is why he’s only staying the one night.”
“Yeah, that’s the problem,” Javier says through gritted teeth.
“It’s a problem that he’s staying the night? He’s coming all the way from Miami. It seemed like the polite thing to…”
“No, it absolutely is,” Javier says tightly, seeming to listen for your mother for a moment, too, before tugging you closer by the belt loops of your jeans. You gasp when your body connects with his, the drop in his voice making your toes curl as he murmurs, “Unfortunately my plans for the night are not polite nor conducive to having someone across the hall in the guest room.”
“Oh,” you answer softly, your skin feeling hot as more than a few images of what he might have in mind pass through yours. You bunch your fingers in his shirt to pull him down to you, and he nearly has his mouth slanted over yours again when your mother next yells out your name, another interruption that makes the anticipation and need in your bloodstream spike.
“Isabel,” she says once more, her heels clicking closer on the tile. “Honestly, the whole day is nearly–”
“I’m coming,” you call back quickly, relieved when you hear her steps pause. Your eyes close as his lips skate along your jaw. “Probably shouldn’t keep her waiting. Just makes it worse.”
He grumbles something unintelligible in response, hands now on either side of your head where he has you pinned against the wall.
“What was that?” you whisper, arching into him just a bit. “Missed it.”
“I said I’m going to need a minute,” he tells you with a huff, and you enjoy that piece of knowledge more than you probably should. Making him groan when you also make sure to brush against him more than you probably should as you duck beneath his arm.
“I’ll go first,” you whisper, planting a quick kiss on his cheek before you disappear into the kitchen while he remains rooted to his current spot in the hall.
You see your mamá as soon as you turn the corner, her hair tied back in a bright red ribbon as she stands at the kitchen counter with the water still running and a sinkful of suds and dishes. When she sees you, she flips the water off and grabs a towel from nearby to dry her hands.
“There you are,” she says, looking you up and down. Apparently not particularly liking what she sees because she frowns and says, “Are you alright? You look so tired, mija. Do you want a cold pack for your eyes?”
“No, mamá, I’m fine,” you say, knowing she means well and trying to keep the exasperation out of your expression. “Thank you for—”
“Where is Javi?” she asks, peeking over your shoulder as if you could be hiding him behind your back. “Chucho said he came home late last night.”
You nod. “He did. He’ll be just a few minutes.”
She tosses her towel on the counter and starts to walk towards the hall.
“Mamá,” you say, intercepting her and leading her deeper into the kitchen, nearly to the back door with your hand on her arm. Then you’re whispering again as you say, “Go easy on him, okay? We’ve already talked about a lot of it, and he says he’s not going to go back into the DEA.”
“That’s good,” she responds, her voice unwavering in its firm tone. “But I still want to speak to him.”
You sigh. “Fine, but the thing dad said to him—”
“I know what your father said to him,” your mother says quickly, smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles in the front of her apron with her hands. “He told me.”
“He did?” You’re not sure why that surprises you so much, but her next statement surprises you even more.
“He did.” Her eyes are on the ground, not fully looking at you. “Which is why he is back in the barn. And will be for the foreseeable future.”
You promptly hug her, a gesture she returns just as quickly, and your face is in her neck when you mutter, “Thank you, mamá. I’m so angry at him. I’m just… I’m so mad.”
“I know. I am, too,” she tells you, her hand brushing up and down your back until you both pull away. When you do, you notice tears in her eyes as well as yours even after she dabs hers with the corner of her apron so as not to ruin her makeup
“I can’t believe you really kicked him out,” you say with a small smile and shake of your head.
“Well,” she sniffs, head held high. “Your father told me when we got married that the house was mine to do with as I like… and right now I like him to not be there.”
You laugh. “Well, I’m…” You hesitate hoping she takes your words as you mean them. “I’m proud of you, mamá.”
“Thank you.” She smiles, just for a second before she looks away and her hand goes to her hair to fix what’s already perfect. “Given everything, I do just want to talk to Javi and… Remind him of some things. Since his mamá isn’t here to do it.”
“Okay,” you agree, chest tight while your gaze shifts back to the hallway where you know he’s still lingering.
This had been the point. The reason you had told her to come over in the first place. The reason you had invited Steve, too. Reinforcements.
So Javier knows he is far from alone, that he doesn’t have to face it alone when the next bad day comes…
“I’ll, um, I’ll go check in with Chucho then,” you offer, wanting to give her a moment with him to say what she wants to say without an audience. “Do you know if someone named Steve called this morning?”
“There have been lots of calls,” your mamá replies, giving the phone an icy death glare as if it bears personal responsibility. “He hasn’t rang while I’ve been here, but he could’ve before. Ask Chucho. He went out to the south barn with your brothers.”
“Thanks. I’ll be back.” You give her one more quick squeeze before you head for the door and tell her, “Be nice.”
“Isabel, have some faith,” she says after you, focus already switching to the hall like a hunter spotting prey. “When am I ever not nice?”
You did not just–
The kitchen is quiet now except for what sounds like an impatiently tapping foot, and… Yes, you did. You left him alone with your mother. He knows you’re likely still mad at him, but…
No. No, absolutely not. He’s going the fuck back to bed.
He pivots, but before he can get even two steps the other direction, the floorboard creaks beneath his foot as if even the house is in on it.
“Javier Alejandro Peña,” comes your mother’s voice from behind him once again, and he doesn’t even need to look to know she’s in the doorway now. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“To Hell probably,” he mutters as he looks at the ceiling, letting out a resigned sigh before he wisely turns himself around. “Good morning, ma’am.”
“We’ll see,” she replies evenly, using the spatula in her hand to point in the direction of the kitchen table. “Sit.”
He stays put just long enough to watch Eva’s eyes narrow and her grip tighten around her spatula before he moves, giving her as wide a berth as he can manage before making his way over, dropping into the indicated chair, and resting his elbows on the table. A lapse of judgment that Eva greets with raised brows until he realizes his error and corrects it by moving his hands to his lap.
Seemingly satisfied for the time being, Eva turns away from him and heads for the fridge, pulling out the now severely depleted carton of eggs he had watched his dad put away the night before. She sets them on the counter before returning for a container of homemade salsa, and assembling both alongside what is already out on the counter. Finally she strikes up a match to light the two front burners beneath waiting skillets, remaining with her back to him for several long minutes of painful silence as she keeps her attention on the stove.
“Well, this has been great,” Javier finally ventures, figuring that at least with the match safely out, his risk of being set alight has somewhat diminished. “I should probably go help out.”
“Who?” she asks, her hand hovering so close over each skillet to check the temperature that it almost looks like she’s touching the surface before she pulls her hand away and pours a generous helping of salsa in one and a tab of butter in the other. Both sizzle when they hit the surface, the aroma of butter, tomatoes, onions, chiles and garlic filling the air, making his stomach clench and his mouth water.
When was the last time he ate? He’s suddenly starving, his eyes trained on the food, which is how he misses at first that Eva’s eyes are still trained on him and expecting an answer.
She raises her eyebrows again before giving each skillet a quick stir. “I’ll repeat myself. You said you should go help. Did you mean here or the DEA?”
Leave it to Eva to get straight to the point.
“They’ve called five times this morning by the way,” she goes on despite him still not having given her an answer. “They seem to be under the impression that you’re late for work.”
Shit. Shit. Shit. He had told Spencer he’d be back in the office this morning, or at the very least he’d agreed to be.
“Which I’ve told them cannot possibly be the case because you left the DEA months ago? I told them, no, no, he’s a full-time rancher now. Not to mention one who is seriously dating my daughter. Or have I misunderstood?”
“You told them I was dating your daughter?” he quips, immediately throwing his hands up in surrender when Eva takes a step in his direction. “Sorry, no, you’re right. You’re right.”
She gives him one more warning glare before going back to her skillet, reaching over to crack two eggs into the butter with an efficiency that borders on brutal, and he figures he better get on with it.
“I went to the DEA office yesterday. That’s why they’re calling,” he explains, knowing she already knows but she nods along as if she doesn’t. “The DEA is looking for someone to lead their team for Mexico, and I thought…”
“You thought that just had to be you?” she finishes for him, facing him once more while still keeping an eye on the stove.
“No, I…” He doesn’t want to talk about this again. Not really. Not with Eva.
Not when he’s already caused so much upset in her family. Not when she reminds him so much of his mamá. The concern she has carried for him into his adulthood clear on her face, especially when she’s scolding him like a child.
“I thought it might be better if it was,” Javier says quietly. “For a few reasons.”
Eva nods again, turning the heat down on the salsa while she keeps her eyes on the eggs.
“You know, my father served, too,” she tells Javier, letting him know without repeating her husband’s words that she knows exactly what was said. “He even received a medal for his bravery in the line of duty, though he walked with a limp for the rest of his life.”
She looks away from the skillet temporarily, to bend down and grab a couple warm tortillas out of the oven, popping them onto a plate before pouring the salsa on top.
“The injury never seemed to bother him too much or slow him too far down. Sure it might have taken him a bit longer in the mornings to get going and some days it hurt a lot worse than others. He started keeping a stool in the restaurant kitchen for those days when he needed help, so he could just sit down while he was at the stove. Of course, he also used it as an excuse to sit right down at the table with the customers whenever he wandered up front. Not that he really needed one. People always made room for him.”
She flips the burners off before scooping both eggs onto the plate, finishing it off with avocado, cilantro and queso. She sets it in front of him with a fork and a large glass of water before turning the chair next to him in his direction and taking a seat.
“I remember that he would do that,” Javier tells her, his hands starting to run anxiously up and down the denim of his work jeans. He knows what she’s trying to tell him. Knows this whole story isn’t just a story for her own amusement. “Mom used to take me by the restaurant when I was a kid. He always had sweets tucked away behind the counter.”
“He did,” she agrees with a smile before her expression turns. “I miss him every day. Every single day. Because I loved him and because he was a good man. He was when the war started, and he still was when it ended. He was a hero.” Eva looks at Javier again, and the sadness in her eyes seems to magnify his own. “Just like you.”
“I’m not a hero.” Javier scoffs, shaking his head. “He won his war. I didn’t.”
“You know, I promised her that I would,” Javier says, not sure if he’s looking for understanding or absolution. “I promised her I’d fix it. Stop it.”
Eva’s frown deepens, head tilting to the side in a gesture that reminds him of you. “Stop what?”
“The drugs,” he says, thinking about how after twelve years of his life spent trying it’s likely only going to get worse. “I promised her that I’d make sure others didn’t lose someone the same way we did. Seems like a bad promise to break. Not that I’ve had much chance to keep it.”
“Oh, Javi.” Her hands reach for his, holding them in the space between with a gentle squeeze as she leans forward. “I made your mamá promises, too. And so did your dad. We’re trying our best to keep them, which is why you’ll have to forgive me for being a bit selfish when I tell you to ask yourself which promises are the ones she would actually want kept. As a mother, I can promise you that the one that risks her son’s life isn’t one of them.”
She waits for Javier’s rebuttal during the long minutes it takes before the phone rings again, causing her to get up, patting his cheek just before she stalks back to the phone.
“Hello,” she snaps, holding the phone to her ear and listening intently before asking, “Young man, what is your name?”
Whatever his answer is Javier pities him based on the triumphant look on Eva’s face alone.
“Ah, yes, remind me, does that make you Sofía or Daniela’s boy? Doesn’t matter. You know I sit behind your abuela at church every Sunday, and I think it might interest her to know that her darling grandson is harassing my family. Yes, harassing.”
There’s another pause as she listens to his response, and whatever it is, it’s the wrong one.
“Oh, I understand perfectly that you are just following orders,” she says, her voice pleasant and polished. “However, I’m not sure you are understanding that I will personally call every single one of your relatives. Including those in the grave. Is that clear?”
She smiles at the words on the other end. “Yes, you take care as well. Goodbye.”
Eva hangs the phone up before letting out an annoyed sigh and looking back his way. “Javier, are you sitting there letting your food get cold? Eat.”
She doesn’t have to ask him twice.
You nearly turn around half a dozen times on the five minute walk to the south barn, wondering how high on your list of sins leaving Javier to fend for himself with your mother ranked.
He would be fine. You’re sure of it. Seeing your mother go toe-to-toe with your father for him had convinced you of that fact.
You turn at the sound of your name, seeing Gabe climb down from a tractor parked around the corner from the barn’s wide double doors.
“Hey,” you greet him warmly, letting yourself be enveloped in a bear hug as soon as he reaches you. “How’s it going out here?”
“Fine,” he says with a shrug when he lets go. “Sorry about the wake up call this morning. I was under duress.”
You laugh, already having forgiven him. “I figured.”
He gives you a relieved smile before glancing back in the direction of the house. “How are you holding up? Where’s Jav?”
“I, uh, I left him with mom,” you tell him, your face pinching as you wait for the condemnation.
“What?” Gabe asks, looking toward the house again as if expecting to see Javier making a run for it. “I thought you two made up?”
“I know,” you whine. “But she asked to talk to him, and she’s been super supportive so— wait, how did you know we made up? Did you…” You put your face in your hands. “God, what did you hear?”
“Please,” Gabe scoffs. “Give me some credit. I did not need to hear anything to put that together. The fact that the blankets were on the couch but Javi clearly wasn’t said plenty. Not to mention the fact that you were both still in bed together well into mid-morning. I thought mom was going to have a stroke. Do you know the kind of stress I was under while you were busy—”
“Thank you, I got it,” you say quickly, still not at the point where you’re ready to discuss that subject with your big brother. “Well I appreciate your struggle on my behalf.”
“Of course,” he says modestly, and you both start heading for the barn doors, your steps a little quicker just to keep up with his longer stride.
“I’ll be here tomorrow, too,” he continues. “Plenty of free time on my hands since I already told dad I’m done working for him. At least, until he works things out with you and Javi, but who knows… Maybe for good.”
Your steps falter, worry setting in. “Gabe, you didn’t have to–”
“It was time,” he tells you with a solid attempt at a smile. “Been thinking a lot about things lately. This was just the final straw.”
“How did he take it?” you ask with a grimace, hating the idea of Gabe in the line of fire.
“Hard to say,” he tells you with a considering frown. “Face is still pretty swollen from Chucho clocking him one. He’s being a real baby about it, but Mom refuses to even give him a bag of peas to ice it. She also wouldn’t tell him where the Tylenol is, so he had to take himself to the store this morning. The money I would’ve put down to see it.”
You laugh, feeling an overwhelming burst of pride to be able to call yourself Eva Rivera’s daughter.
“Wait, what kind of things have you been thinking about?” you ask him, not wanting to get too far off track from what he’d said as you both step foot into the barn aisle and the ruckus of cattle requires you to raise your voice. “What will you do instead?”
He shrugs again. “I don’t know actually. I’ve never done anything else. I think that’s the part I’m kind of looking forward to… doing something else. I mean, I’ve got enough money saved to get me by until I figure it out.” Gabe stops to pick up a few large buckets of feed, taking them with him. “Don’t worry though, I’ll be around to help you through the rest of winter prep.”
“Around?” You put a hand on his arm so he’ll pause. “Gabe, are you thinking of leaving Laredo?”
He sets his buckets right back down to look at you, his expression a mix of nervousness and excitement. “Maybe? I… I kept thinking after seeing you yesterday. I’ve never had anything that I would fight for like you fight for Javi.” He frowns, brow furrowing as if in deep concentration. “And I think… I think maybe I’d like to?”
You nearly topple over on the buckets in your haste to throw your arms around him, but the hold you fall into is solid. “I’d like that for you, too.”
Once the feed buckets are dispersed to their waiting cattle, you and Gabe meet up with Chucho and Eli, busy working away in one of the paddocks at the opposite end. They both look up when they see you coming, and you walk right up to Eli to give him a hug, too.
“What was that for?” he asks with a sheepish grin after you let go, and you smile back at him when you say, “Just cause. Thanks for coming.”
He beams, the smile growing wider after Chucho claps him on the shoulder. “Sure, glad to do it.”
“Can you take over, Eli? Just want to talk to Isa for a moment,” Chucho asks him before ushering you to the side. Eli gives him a thumbs up as Gabe steps in to help with whatever task they’d been in the middle of doing.
“How’s Javi?” Chucho asks you when you’re a few yards away. “Is he—”
“He said he’s not planning on going back into the DEA,”
you reassure him quickly. “We’ve talked about it.”
Chucho nods, visibly relaxing in front of you as he looks down at the barn floor and hides his eyes beneath his hat. “Good. That’s good. Maybe something finally got through. He still at the house?”
“Yeah, I left him with mom,” you say again, Chucho appearing far less horrified by the idea than Gabe had been. “She said there have been a lot of calls this morning. Did Steve call?”
Chucho clears his throat, making your heart squeeze at the way his eyes are a bit red when you’re able to see them again. “No, but his wife Connie did. Steve was able to get a flight out early this morning. No direct flights from Miami to Laredo, so he has a layover in Houston. Should get here just before dinner. Did you tell Javi he was coming?”
“I did,” you say, trying to keep your expression neutral. “He had, um, mixed feelings on the subject. But I still think it’s a good idea. Even if Javi isn’t going back into the DEA, he still needs to talk to someone about everything. He still needs help with it.”
Chucho nods, his jaw clenching before he says, “I know. I should have intervened sooner.”
You shake your head, your throat feeling tight as you place a hand on his arm and lean against him. “Hey, I tried to talk to him about it before, too. I don’t think he was ready then, but maybe he is now.”
Chucho exhales, his broad shoulders straightening. “Then we do it now.”
Javier stares at his reflection in the foggy bathroom mirror, shaving cream can in his hand and his razor set out on the counter.
He needs to shave. Hasn’t since Halloween and he desperately needs a hair trim but… he finds himself tucking both the can and razor back in the cabinet instead.
One more day won’t hurt.
He’s drying his hand and his face on the towel at his waist, his hair still dripping wet from his shower, when there’s a soft knock on the door, and while he’s fairly certain it’s you, there are currently too many people moving in and out of this house for him to not check first. “Yeah?”
“It’s me,” comes your voice through the door, and he smiles as he tells you, “Come in.”
You open the door just wide enough to sneak in, your eyes giving him a quick once over as you lean back into it to shut it and give him a tentative “Hi.”
“Hi,” he says in return, stepping closer with his eyes on yours. “Is everyone else in the kitchen?”
You shake your head, starting to smile. “No, they’re heading out on the horses to the back pasture. We’re supposed to meet up with them. Did… Did everything go okay with my mom?”
“Yes, it's not the first time I’ve gotten a talking to from your mamá, and I’m sure it won’t be the last.” He reaches out and tugs at the hem of your shirt so you move closer, too. He just needs a bit of time with you, something to help take the edge off for both of you before you and him are surrounded again. “When is everyone expecting us?”
You trace a line of water down his chest with your finger before you tilt your head up to look at him, your gaze only coming as high as his mouth. “Whenever you’re done getting ready. I’m sure mom will send a search party if we’re gone too long. Not a lot of time, but I thought…”
He brushes your lips with his, a teasing stroke meant to rile you up more than anything else. Meant to get you on the same page he’s been reading since he had you back in his reach last night. “What were you thinking, bonita?”
“I, um…” You lean up on tiptoes to chase his touch, eyes half-lidded as you talk to him. “I was thinking we could take a few minutes. Maybe, pick up where we left off this morning?”
One of his hands comes up to cradle your jaw, thumb running across your mouth. You open and trace the pad of it with your tongue while his other hand grips harder at your waist.
“Mm,” he murmurs to you, “is that what you want?”
The kitchen phone rings again in the distance, and for a moment the bubble bursts, your eyes flickering that direction with a worried look. “When my mom came out to the barn, she said they keep calling. Are they— What if they…”
“It’s all they can do right now,” Javier tells you, wishing again that he could take it all back as he waits for the phone to stop and for them to give up. He just doesn’t know when they ever will. “I never signed anything. They’re just having some rookies hit redial all day.”
You nod, but the pinch in your brow remains when he leans in to press a kiss there.
“I’m so sorry, baby,” he tells you again as you let him gather you against his chest. “I’m so sorry. I swear that I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you if you’ll let me.”
“You promise?” you ask softly against him.
“Yeah,” he tells you, already looking forward to keeping it. “I promise.”
You take a deep breath, not pulling away in the slightest as your fingers start drifting down his chest to the edge of his towel. “You could start now.”
All you had to do was say the word.
His mouth crushes against yours hungrily, his touch becoming just a bit rougher as he reaches for any part of you he can get his hands on, your shirt quickly dragged up and tossed aside so he can feel your skin against his.
You answer his need with just as much frenzy, and he grins at your corresponding greed for him while moving his hands from your back to either side of your waist, directing you so you're pressed up against the bathroom counter. He lifts you up and deposits you on the edge before going to his knees.
Your eyes widen when you see him on the floor, watching him as his palms skim your calves and he nuzzles along each of your thighs. Moving his fingers to the button of your jeans once he sees your breathing pick up and your hips shift, sliding his fingertips beneath your waistband to pull the denim and your underwear down your legs in one quick drag.
You lean back with your hands braced behind you as he starts to work his way up with his mouth. And by the time he’s pushing your legs wider, you’re already whining for him, one of your hands leaving the counter to find its place in his hair. The breadth of his shoulders keeps you open while his palms skim up the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, his thumbs parting you prettily for him so he can place a kiss right at your center before he starts to work you on his tongue.
“Fuck,” you murmur, rolling into him with your hips while your head falls back against the mirror, reminding him of its presence.
Your thighs tense against him as sucks on your clit, your taste and the sound of your quiet moans shooting straight to his cock, and he’s grateful when his shifting causes his towel to fall away. One of his hands dropping to give himself languid strokes as his other slips a single finger inside your tight heat, searching for and finding that spot that always makes you give him more.
“Javi,” you whimper his name again and again when he adds a second finger, and starts to thrust faster, chasing the feeling of you clenching tight around him, the look on your face when you fall apart.
“Come, bonita, I need to see it,” he tells you, before he returns his mouth to you, letting the vibration of his voice as he encourages you be the thing to push you over the edge.
His fingers keep moving even as he stands, drawing out your orgasm as he wraps his other arm around you, waiting until your trembling subsides before he sets you back on the floor on your feet, turning you around so that you're bent over in front of him, your ass flush against his hips and your hands bracing against the counter.
“When we have time, Isabel, I’m going to fuck you so many ways that you won’t remember what it was like to not have me inside you.” You whimper at his words, teeth digging into your bottom lip until he tugs it free with his thumb, keeping his hand on your jaw so that your eyes stay on the reflection of him and you together in the mirror. “But how about we start with your favorite?”
While he uses his left hand to line himself up, his right drags down the cups of your bra, baring you to him so he can see you absorb every impact as he fucks into you. And you’re already pushing back before he can even start pushing into you, taking him to the hilt in one deep thrust. Moaning and clenching around him like you’re already close.
If he had longer to spend here with you, he’d stay just like this for as long as he could, feel you tight around him. Wet and needy for him while he presses his chest to your back and just lets you react to the feel of him.
“Javi,” his name is a high pitched plea on your tongue as he starts to move, hard thrusts that make him pant behind you as he watches you watch in the mirror. As he sees you crave it, too.
“My perfect girl, look how fucking well you take me.” One hand still on your jaw, he runs his mouth along the slope of your shoulder, his teeth leaving a mark now in the exact spot where he’d hesitated to do so this morning. “Fucking perfect. You have no idea how much I love you.”
You gasp at a particularly hard thrust, your words drowned out in your mingled cries, but you try again, “I love you, too. I— Fuck, I’m going to come again.”
He nods, letting you see his smile at knowing it, already feeling it in the way you’re gripping him. He kneads each of your breasts and pinches your nipples to make you moan again while he pictures doing it with his teeth.
“Come, baby, I’ve got you.” His hand skins down your stomach, pressing between you and the counter so he can circle your clit just the way you like. “I’ve got you.”
Your hands grip his forearm as you hit your peak, hanging on and pushing back into him to take him with you, and the way you’re pulsing around his cock when he’s already so drunk on you keeps him from lasting much longer.
He groans as he comes, resting his forehead against the nape of your neck and letting himself enjoy the sensation of filling you up, continuing to thrust his spend deep, wanting it deep enough to stay inside long after this moment.
For the few more minutes he thinks the two of you can risk it, he stays buried just like that, murmuring praise into your ear as you smile and your breathing slows. He never wants to let go, promises you that he never will.
Finally one he’s sure he can keep.
A/N: Special shout to the anon who sent in the ask about Javi not even being able to make it on the couch. When you right you right. And thank you all for the ongoing love, support, and asks that make me laugh and cry. I'm so grateful for all of you!
Dancing With Our Hands Tied
Champagne Problems Part 7
A/N: Hello! I hope you all enjoy and don't kill me! ❤️ Thank you to my live @haterpenny. Gif credit to @mclarenpodium
✨Previous parts linked here✨
Warnings: Swearing, panic attacks, drinking.
You woke up on Wednesday morning with Daniel fast asleep beside you. Nothing happened the previous night save for a few kisses. By the end of the second Ace Ventura movie you were both struggling to keep your eyes open and you were far too comfortable to move.
You glanced down at his sleep-tousled curls, a tired smile spreading over his lips as your eyes met.
“Good morning,” He said groggily, his arm wrapped around your waist pulling you in a bit closer. Not quite ready to let go yet.
“Good morning Danny,” You replied softly.
“I love when you call me that.” His voice was low and thick with sleep. It was a simple comment but it felt oddly intimate.
“I don’t think I’ve ever told you.” There was a slight pause as he thought, his brows scrunching.
“I guess there’s a lot I never told you.” He finally said, forcing a weak smile to his lips. You pursed your lips and couldn’t stop yourself from moving one of the stray curls on his forehead. You snuggled back into his chest, hiding yourself away in him. You would have been content to stay in that moment forever.
“We should get up.” You muttered against him.
“No, I think we should stay here.” Daniel responded, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
“We have training, we have media appearances,” Your voice trailed off a bit as the long list of responsibilities the two of you had ran through your mind.
“No, I quit.” He replied simply, making you giggle. You tried your best to sit up, but he pulled you right back into him. You found it difficult to fight him.
“You’re a terrible influence.” You said with a smirk.
“Thank you.” Daniel’s smile had returned at that. Again, you sat up and again he pulled you back down beside him. You let out a frustrated groan although you weren’t really upset. His face was only a couple inches from yours and you couldn’t help but think about how gorgeous he looked. His eyes staring back into yours like pools of golden honey.
“Once we leave this room… I just don’t know that I’ll ever get to spend this kind of time with you again.” He confessed, doing his best to avoid your gaze. That really let the air out of your sail.
“I… I’m going to figure things out. I just need a little more time. I know it hasn’t been fair to you, and I’m sorry.” You told him, your fingers running over the astronaut tattoo on his arm.
“No, I know the kind of pressure you’ve been under. And I should have figured out how I felt sooner. I’m sorry that it took this long.” You shook your head at his words but said nothing.
“So, the big party’s tonight. Gonna get shitfaced? I’d love an excuse to.” You said, propping yourself up to gaze down at him and doing your best to change the subject.
“Yeah? On a race weekend?” He asked, brows raised in surprise.
“Well, it’s Wednesday. So definitely not the weekend.” You told him, a finger poking his chest. His head tilted back and forth in consideration.
“Alright, fair. So how messy are we getting?” Daniel asked.
“Messy enough to forget about our problems.” You answered.
“Sounds perfect.” He agreed. You couldn’t help but lean over and press a kiss to his lips. He held you tightly by your waist, milking the kiss for all it was worth. When you pulled away that time, he let you go.
“Wanna meet for breakfast?” You questioned, peeking down at him as you stretched. You didn’t think there would be anything too scandalous about sharing a meal with your best friend.
“Yeah, that sounds good.”
“Alright, I’m going to get a shower.” You told him while rummaging through your dresser for something to put on.
“Is that a shower for two or…?” Daniel asked, his eyebrows raised in question. You pursed your lips and gave him a look.
“No? Okay, got it.” He said with a nod, a sort of chuckle leaving his lips.
“I’ll meet you downstairs in a bit.” You said before disappearing into the bathroom.
You and Daniel shared breakfast and mostly reflected on the start of the new season. You did your best to stick to business, talking about his new merch line, the McLaren updates he was a bit desperate for and some of the reliability issues you and Checo had been experiencing.
“Doesn’t matter how fast I go if I can’t finish the damn race.” You had told him, earning a chuckle in response.
When you finished your meal you promised to find him at the party that evening and parted ways.
You caught up with Marsali and did an ab circuit and some cardio that thoroughly kicked your ass. On your way back to your room you stopped for a few photos and autographs and found yourself stunned at the popularity Drive to Survive had brought the sport in America. In Texas barely two years ago no one had any idea who the hell you were. Now you were stopped every hundred feet or so to be wished well- even by those with the number 44 plastered across their shirts.
The party started around 7 and you got back to your room around 4:30. You took your second shower of the day before debating on outfits and how you were going to do your hair and makeup. The event was rather unusual for you and you had pretty much no idea what to expect. Likely some soft media questions, some drinks and some music. You chose to go with your team wear but decided to bring a short light dress to change into for when your press responsibilities were over with. Your phone buzzed as you worked on your hair.
Carlos: I’m going to need a dance with you tonight.
Your cheeks heated up at the thought. You felt a grin tugging at your lips as you wrote your reply.
Y/N: The press will be there. You’ll have to keep it PG. 😏
While you would literally never pass up the chance to have Carlos near you, the idea of being so close in front of everyone concerned you. You weren’t looking for attention in that regard. But perhaps a shot or two would help quell those fears. After all- it was a party, right? Who could blame you for cutting loose and having a little fun?
Carlos: I’ll behave if you will.
You let out a groan at that. What the hell was he trying to do to you?
Images from your golf date with Carlos flashed through your mind. You remembered how lovely it felt to have him so near you, the way his kiss made your knees go weak. You were excited to see him again.
Then your eyes glanced over to the bed you had shared with Daniel the previous night, a lump forming in your chest. You hadn’t been in the same place as the two men since the night at the club where this whole mess began and you had no idea what it was going to be like. You pushed the pessimistic thoughts out of your mind and tried to remember that the party was not the most important part of the trip. The first practice session was the next day and you were eager to get out on the track and see for yourself what it was like. You glanced into the mirror and smiled- it seemed you would be doing a lot of it that evening.
You left the hotel in your team polo and a pair of high-rise black shorts that made your legs look extra long. Paired with some cute Vans, you felt comfortable and ready for whatever festivities the night would hold.
When you got to the track you headed to the Red Bull garage to meet up with Checo and Christian. One of the members of the PR team, Patricia was fluttering about, talking a mile a minute about what to say, topics to avoid and how to behave at a F1 sponsored party. The only F1 events you typically attended were the races, press conferences and the end of the year award ceremony. But a party? With alcohol? And your two favorite people to makeout with?
You were just the tiniest bit nervous.
“So you know, pretend it’s a press conference. Just smile and don’t have too many Heineken’s. They’re the sponsors so they’re passing them out like candy.” You chuckled until you realized this warning only seemed to be for you, Checo and Christian shooting you a knowing look with raised eyebrows.
“Wh-what? Why are you looking at me?” You sputtered, mildly offended.
“Let’s just say I’ve stopped a photo or two from going to the press. And when was the last time you saw Checo drunk?” You opened your mouth to protest but they had a point.
“Yeah- fine. Bet no one said anything to Kimi,” You grumbled under your breath, arms crossed as though you had just been scolded by your parents.
Soon the three of you were making your way backstage and you were already overwhelmed by your surroundings. You could hear the crowd on the other side of the stage, but really had no idea what you were in for. Your eyes wandered through the drivers wandering around, all hunching over into one another in an effort to hear over the booming music. Before you could catch sight of Daniel or Carlos, you were being shooed into a line up of sorts. You realized Mattia, Charles and Carlos were in front of you. You poked right between the 55 printed across the back of Carlos’ shirt. His head whipped around and the minute his eyes found yours a big smile was spreading across his cheeks.
“Oh- hola,” He said, his voice lowering into a bit of a hush as he leaned in towards you.
“Hey. This is… weird, right?” You asked, unsure of why you had decided to grab his attention in the first place. It just seemed wrong for him to be so near and not have his eyes on yours.
“Yes, weird. But it should be fun-” Carlos was cut off as he rushed a bit to keep up with his teammate. You listened as the emcees announced the Ferrari team and took a shaky exhale as you were next.
“Now let’s welcome Sergio Perez and- here comes Trouble- our championship leader!” You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes just a little bit. You stepped out from behind the curtain and became acutely aware of the way your heart was beating. There had to be thousands and thousands of people below, all watching you with bated breath. You were the picture of perfect composure, a well-practiced smile on your lips as you waved a wave pretty enough to make pageant queens envious. At some points in your career, you truly couldn’t see the difference between racing and pageants.
Christian stood beside the two of you, looking very much like a proud Papa.
“How are you feeling to be here in Miami?” They asked you, handing a mic your way.
“Damp. It’s very humid.” You said, coaxing a laugh from the interviewers.
“No, we’re thrilled to be here. The city, the food, the people- everything is beautiful.” That earned a cheer from the party-goers.
“And how are you feeling about your chances of extending your lead?” There was that damned question again.
“Fingers crossed! We have the team, we have the car, we have the drive. We’re ready to make it happen.” You answered, Christian nodding his agreement over your shoulder. Of course that was the only answer you could give.
They turned to Checo and he spoke in Spanish- of course the crowd went bananas. You loved seeing him get that kind of response- he was a wonderful teammate and you genuinely celebrated his successes.
Thankfully after that the three of you were out of the spotlight, with the Mercedes boys stepping up behind you.
“Fuck that.” You muttered under your breath, so relieved that portion of the evening was over. You never had a problem speaking to the press, but standing in front of a literal sea of people was intimidating in a way that you had not been expecting. Usually you could hide behind your helmet or your car- but being out in the open made you feel exposed.
You were pulled back to the present at the sound of Daniel’s hearty laugh. His voice echoed through the speakers as he talked about the car’s new updates and his excitement for the race. Then they brought up his helmet and he was doing his Ace Ventura impression and you couldn’t help but smile at his antics.
You often found yourself envious at the way people couldn’t help but adore Daniel. He fed off of people’s attention and it all seemed so easy and natural for him. You did not have that same kind of comfort in front of the crowds. People doubted your ability, talked down to you and always asked you questions that never seemed relevant to the sport. Questions like ‘How do you balance having a love life and racing?’ or ‘How do you stay in shape to keep up with the other drivers?’. You always did your best to smile through the misogyny and drive the car as best as you could. But Daniel- even when confronted with uncomfortable or just plain rude questions- took it all in stride and won his critics over; it was a part of his magical Ricciardo charm.
You stood as more teammates and principals walked out and more questions were asked and answered. You did your best to look interested, but still you found it difficult to ignore the thunderous way your heart was thumping. Your desperation to be literally anywhere else was growing exponentially with every passing second. After what felt like hours, the formal portion of the evening was coming to an end. You posed for photos and spent a few minutes making small talk before finally being able to make your escape.
You vanished into a private room and slipped into your light dress, hoping it may make breathing in the heat a bit easier. Then you were forcing yourself back out and into the chaos.
You climbed down the little stairs and into the VIP section, hoping to mingle and hide among the crowd. You were brought out of your thoughts when you felt a hand on your arm.
“Ready for your first drink of the evening?” Daniel asked, a beer outstretched in offering. You had no idea how he’d gotten them so fast. You happily accepted nonetheless.
“Yes, please.” You took a generous first sip, hoping it would distract you and cool you down a bit.
“This whole thing… It’s a bit much, don’t you think?” You hollered up at him, hoping your tone sounded more casual than you felt. Dan didn’t seem to be buying it, his brow furrowed as his eyes scanned your features. His hand gently rested on yours.
“Are you okay?” Daniel asked, leaning in ever-closer in an effort to keep your comments private. You put that same winning smile back on.
“Yeah- great, I’m great. I just would love a distraction.” You yelled back.
“Too many eyes,” You added, hoping that would be enough for him to catch your meaning. Almost as if on cue, Kygo began playing and Daniel commandeered your beer, setting both yours and his on the nearest table.
“Come on,” He said, outstretching his hand towards you. Normally you would be extra cautious about dancing with Daniel in public, but some drivers were dancing with their friends and guests so it didn’t seem like it would raise too many eyebrows. Every one knew how close the pair of you were, and as long as you didn’t let things get too intimate you thought it would be fine. Plus, Daniel wasn’t trying to seduce you this time- he was trying to make you laugh. Daniel busted out his most embarrassing moves- almost like he was in Pulp Fiction. You were giggling and just doing your best to keep up as Dan took your hand and spun you. It wasn’t at all pretty- you stumbled over yourself a little as he maneuvered you into a dip. You almost toppled over, but somehow he kept you on your feet. The pair of you had your heads thrown back in laughter as you broke apart, the light from a flashing camera catching your attention. The photographer nodded their thanks before moving on to photograph Toto and Lewis who seemed to be talking over drinks. Just as you went to speak you felt a finger tap your shoulder. You turned away from Daniel and there stood Carlos. He had a smile on his lips- but it was different from the one that you were familiar with.
“You don’t mind if I cut in, do you Daniel?” You could barely hear the exchange. For the first time you saw Daniel’s calm exterior crack just the slightest. His usual big grin fell for just a moment before he put it back on. You glanced between the two men, unsure of what to say or if you should speak at all.
“Of course not.” Dan glanced at you, as if to see your reaction. You did your best to avoid his gaze and smiled weakly. You barely registered a nod from Dan and then he was grabbing his beer and disappearing back into the crowd. You felt a pang of guilt but you had been nothing but honest with him and Carlos was already slipping his arms around you. You were swaying to the music but you didn’t feel much like dancing. It seemed like everywhere you turned there were expectant eyes anxiously watching your every move, asking questions you couldn’t answer. You didn’t know if you would be the next world champion, you didn’t know which man you wanted to be with.
You dropped Carlos’ hands and took an abrupt step back. Immediately a look of concern flashed over his features.
“Are you okay?” He questioned, his brows pressed together in confusion.
“Yeah- I, I just need a minute.” You backed away, quickly looking around for an escape route. You dodged past Lando who shot you a look, and almost ran straight into Toto Wolff. You tried to feign a smile before apologizing to the wall-of-a-man, and then you were back on the run. You made it backstage, but there was still far too much activity going on for your liking. You wandered a bit until you found yourself alone and you slumped back against a wall and slid down to a sitting position. Your chest heaved as you did your best to breathe, your shaky hands coming up to put your hair behind your ears. You dropped your head, tears streaming down your cheeks with abandon. Everyone was so busy partying, they didn’t seem to notice your absence. You just couldn’t hold it in, your body ached and you tried to focus on getting your breathing back under control. You were so out of it, you didn’t even realize someone had followed you.
“Hey- it’s okay, everything’s fine.” The voice startled you and you looked up through glassy eyes to see Lewis Hamilton. Normally you would be embarrassed- mortified even, for him to see you in such a state but for some reason you couldn’t bring yourself to care. He sat beside you, his elbows resting on his knees, worried eyes watching yours.
“Just breathe, yeah? Come on, in 1, 2, 3, 4. Hold, 1, 2, 3, 4. Out, 1, 2, 3, 4.” He said in a calm and even voice, joining you in the breathing exercise. You nodded and did as he instructed. Something about the way he spoke and hearing his breathing line up with yours really did have a calming effect.
“Good, again.” He told you, holding your gaze as you saw his chest fill with air once more. The two of you sat like that for at least five minutes before you found yourself capable of speaking. You wiped your bleary eyes and forced a smile.
“Thank you. I- I don’t know what happened.” You said finally finding it in yourself to meet his eyes.
“I’m embarrassed,” You muttered, hiding behind a slight chuckle.
“No, come on. This stays between us. I know exactly how you feel.” Lewis placed his hand on your shoulder as he spoke. Usually the two of you had short, polite exchanges, but you never expected for him to see you in such a vulnerable position.
“I’m a mess.” You groaned.
“No, you’ve got a lot going on. Working for the championship… it’s not easy. Even with the right team and the right car. I know what it’s like to feel alone here.” You chewed at the side of your lip as you considered how much you and Lewis really did have in common. You watched as he stood.
He offered you his hand and helped you to your feet.
“You’re not alone. We’re competitors, but we can be friends too.” He told you. You were touched by his sincerity.
“I would like that.” You agreed. He extended you his hand, but you pulled him into a friendly hug. Once you released one another, you weren’t quite sure what to say.
“Do you want to go back to the party?” Lewis asked, his thumb pointed back towards nthe chaos where you now heard- was that Joe fucking Jonas?
“Yeah, yeah I think so. Thanks again, really.” You told him sincerely.
The two of you emerged back into the crowd and went your separate ways, a nod in each other’s direction. You grabbed yourself another beer and focused on enjoying the music. You kept your eyes away from Carlos and Dan’s, eager to focus on yourself and having a good time. Instead you found Seb, huddled over with Mick in the corner. He had on his Miami 2060 First GP Underwater tee on, and you couldn’t help but smile at just how ‘Seb’ the message was. You pointed your finger over at him, and beckoned him over, a big goofy smile on his features. He gave in and set his drink down and made his way over to you. If you thought Dan’s dance moves were bad, Seb’s were way worse. It was exactly what you needed to distract yourself. After a minute you went and grabbed Mick and forced him to join in, an embarrassed blush settling over his cheeks. The two of you had overlapped a bit already in your racing careers and you were thrilled when he got the call to F1. He and Seb were like your weird little work family and you were more than happy to make a fool out of yourself with them beside you.
Between songs you went to grab a drink and found Daniel there, likely on his fourth beer or so with his elbows leaned back on the bar and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of you.
“You should come join us.” You said, nudging your elbow towards your two favorite German dorks dancing disjointedly only a couple yards away.
“The life of the party.” He said with a smirk.
“I was thinking I might head out.” Dan told you and your smile fell a little.
“Yeah, okay. I probably won't last much longer either.” You replied casually.
“You know I’m here for you, right?” He asked suddenly, catching you a bit by surprise.
“Y-yeah, of course I know that.” You replied with a faltering smile, taken aback by his sudden sincerity.
“Well, I hope you have a good night.” He told you simply and you nodded.
“Yeah- you too, Danny.” You grabbed your drink and headed back to dancing. Mick and Seb did a great job of making you forget about the panic that had so recently been flowing through your veins. Especially because Mick was a lightweight and a very goofy drunk.
The three of you hung out for about another hour before you decided to call it a night. You were exhausted, physically and emotionally. You wished Seb and Mick a goodnight and thanked them for being your distractions and watched as Seb guided a very wobbly Mick into the backseat of a car.
You laughed and shook your head before you wandered over to the entrance where you planned to meet with Marsali for a ride back home.
While waiting for her you heard your name in Carlos’ low voice.
“Are you okay? You kind of disappeared earlier.” You bit at your lip and glanced towards the ground.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I just had a rough minute there.” You explained. He nodded knowingly.
“Alright, well how about a nightcap?” He asked sweetly just as your trainer pulled up in the Honda that had been deemed yours for the weekend. You considered his invitation for a moment before deciding you weren’t up for it.
“Sorry, I’m ready to call it a night. Maybe later this weekend though?” You offered, hoping that wouldn’t discourage him.
You bid him goodnight with a hand patting his shoulder gently, and then you were climbing into the car and heading back to the hotel.
The rest of the weekend went by fairly quickly- you had at least a dozen public appearances to make and had no time to yourself, which you were pretty grateful for. Your busy schedule kept you out of your head and helped you focus more on the race ahead. You hadn’t been given a chance to reschedule with Carlos, though you had bumped into him once or twice around the paddock.
Before you knew it, it was Sunday afternoon and you were stretching in your race suit in your driver’s room. Marsali was doing her best to hype you up, making jokes and playing your favorite playlist to get you in the right mindset.
Soon it was time- you climbed into the cockpit and tugged your helmet on. You thought about your encounter with Lewis back at the party.
In, 1, 2, 3, 4. Hold 1, 2, 3, 4. Out 1, 2, 3, 4. Even though having a panic attack in a public place was an absolute nightmare, you were almost grateful it had happened. It gave you a peek at a much different Lewis than you were used to. You were two different generations of drivers, so you had never gotten the opportunity to be particularly close. It wouldn’t make him less intimidating in your rear view mirror, but it reminded you that you weren’t alone. The two of you knew what it was like to be an underdog, maybe more so than the other drivers on the grid.
“Alright, Y/N. Just go out there and do what we all know you can.” Christian’s voice came in over the radio.
“Got it.” You answered simply, determined to keep your cool. You flipped your visor down and rolled out onto the track, taking pole position and coming to a stop. You had managed to outqualify Hamilton as Mercedes struggled with a mechanical issue and a poorly timed yellow flag in quali. Leclerc had snagged P3 followed by Sainz, Perez, Norris and Ricciardo.
You led the pack during the warm up lap, weaving back and forth on your soft tyres as the other 19 drivers did the same. You slowed your pace as you hit the grid, hoping to let Albon and Latifi catch up a bit before you took your spot.
Finally you were all in position, eagerly watching the red lights blink, blink, blink before going out. You were roaring away from the start, doing your best to keep your eyes locked ahead instead of on any possible first- lap carnage that may happen behind you. You hardly ever made it through a first lap without a yellow flag, and this race wasn’t an exception. After flying down the rather long straight and taking the turn easily enough yourself, you heard your engineer through your headset.
“Big crash, yellow flag. Yellow flag.” You glanced in your mirror to try and figure out who it was, but all you could really see was debris. You slowed your speed before taking another peek behind you. You still saw Hamilton, Leclerc, Perez and some papaya- though you couldn’t be sure who.
“What happened? Who is it?” You asked, feeling yourself tense. The radio stayed quiet.
“Hey- who is it?” You repeated, letting your annoyance shine through.
“Ricciardo- Ricciardo and Sainz.” Your stomach dropped.
“Are they okay? Are they out- what happened?” You asked as calmly as you could- you knew your radio would be available for people to listen to after the race and you wanted to keep your composure- even if it was a lie.
“I will keep you updated.” Well what the fuck did that mean?
“Are they out?” You asked again, louder. As if perhaps he hadn’t heard you correctly the first time.
“They are getting out.” You sighed your relief at that. Your team was well aware of how close you and Daniel were and any time he was in an incident they did their best to shield you from it so you could focus on yourself.
“Are they going to red flag it?” You asked, doing your best to keep your head down and follow the Aston Martin in front of you. If there was a red flag you could maybe sneak away for a moment and go check on them.
“Negative. Mostly large debris and they’re removing the cars now.” You clenched your jaw. You wanted to know what the hell happened. You wanted to see for yourself that they were both okay.
Usually you loved hiding away in your car. You used it as a sort of escape from reality. It was a place in which you could be completely selfish in the pursuit of victory- push yourself to be the absolute best that you could be. But at that moment it felt like a prison. You were confined to it for the next hour and fifty minutes.
“They’re both headed to the medical tent.” Fuck. You didn’t reply for fear of what your voice may sound like.
Soon you were nearing the accident space, your car slowing to nearly a crawl to avoid the bits of wings and side pods littering the pavement. The wreck did look big- and it was into a concrete wall rather than the many well-cushioned spots along the track. The longer you followed the Aston the more you tortured yourself wondering about what had happened and if they truly were okay. Finally after passing the scene another two times, you were given the green light for the race to continue.
“Alright- let’s stay focused.” You knew Christian meant well but you wanted to tell him to fuck off.
“Ricciardo and Sainz are back in their garages. No serious injuries.” You were grateful to hear that, but until you had your eyes on them you couldn’t let yourself relax.
It took literally all of your experience and training to get you through the rest of that race. Every time you saw Hamilton crawling up your side you reminded yourself to breathe. You successfully held him off and extended the gap between you to about three seconds where you held a comfortable lead until you crossed the finish line.
That victory- you didn’t feel like celebrating. Every lap felt like an eternity and all you wanted to do was finish the race as quickly as you could. You weren't even that concerned about winning- you just didn’t want to let your team down.
You pulled into your designated spot and quickly removed your steering wheel and unhooked your helmet from the HANS device. You still felt full of adrenaline and you hopped out of the car, handing your wheel off to the nearest engineer.
“Y/N, you need to speak to the media and then get ready for the podium.”
“I’ll take the fine.” You said absently as you passed Patricia and headed towards the garages.
As you trotted off towards the garages, it hit you.
You knew exactly who you wanted to be with.
Run to Carlos
Run to Danny
Sorry guys but my tags aren’t working and tumblr keeps crashing. This was as many as it allowed! Love you guys!
Tags: @ferrarifwendvale @oyesmendes @f1thirsttraps @she-shines-bright @heyitskay-21 @spngi @cowboydr @internetgremlin @lestappiebaby @dad-seb @an-ocean-blue @d0ntjudgemy50shades @f1thirsttraps @formulacherry @gridgirldrabbles @merrymissesmaxiel @watermel0nsugarhigh @vinvantae @prettybiching @noldcardigan @naturastace @ujisworld @jasmindaughteroftheworld @danielricciardo3f1 @witchy-whore @dad-seb @justaddicted @honeybadger03 @valkryejh @ellalovesvettel @delilah-leclerc @crappystoryteller @miahelen @chilisainz @rankystankycowboy @myjourneysmuses @beebuilds @dr3lover @teapartydreams @imaginemrvel @misswolff @saintandrea-droidsmuggler
5 is so wenclair lol I haven't even watched the show yet lol
🧨stop asking me to do crimes with you I am falling in love too hard
Wednesday asked her to break into a supposedly abandoned house just a few weeks after meeting each other for the first time. There was a huge mystery going on around them, Wednesday’s life was in danger, they saved the school, whatever. Enid swore she would never do anything like that again. She had an awful time, she nearly died, and she could never be convinced of doing anything similar ever again.
They returned to school and Wednesday had a stalker and the simple thought of it was enough to make Enid wolf out randomly at night. Wednesday was her roommate, her friend, her best friend, her… Nothing else. They were just friends. And friends would do anything to protect each other, right? So, when Wednesday looked at her with those inexplicably expressionless yet somehow warm eyes and asked her to steal the cell phones of all their classmates while she worked on a distraction, Enid did it. She lied and stole and got through a panic attack and she felt like shit. But Wednesday was safe again, and she even let Enid hug her again. Every time Enid found herself in Wednesday’s arms she felt like everything was worth it.
“Wednesday! I can’t steal and drive a car! A police car!” Enid exclaimed, feeling like she might faint.
“Do you prefer to lean out the passengers' window and shoot the monster currently chasing us?” Wednesday asked her.
Enid complained and possibly cried the entire time, but she got in that stolen car and drove them to safety and, in the end, Wednesday even smiled at her. So maybe it was worth it. And maybe she had a tiny little crush on Wednesday. Whatever.
“Wednesday! This is called arson. And it’s a crime! I can’t set this building on fire for you. I refuse to…”
“Please,” Wednesday interrupted her. And then, to Enid’s utter shock, Wednesday grabbed her hand. Wednesday probably said something else, something about frustrating the despicable plans of some evil billionaire or whatever it was they were doing, but Enid was too focused on the feeling of Wednesday’s hand in hers.
“Alright,” Enid sighed, taking the lighter from Wednesday. So what if she liked her mysterious and not-entirely-heartless roommate as something a little more than friends? It wasn’t a big deal.
“Wednesday! I can’t believe you’re asking me to kidnap a family! Oh my God, I can’t believe I am going to kidnap a family for you!” Enid exclaimed, covering her face with her hands, almost embarrassed of how easy she gave in this time.
“I appreciate it,” Wednesday said with usual calm. She reached out for Enid’s wrists and gently pulled her hands from her face so they could see each other.
Enid wasn’t sure if it was the adrenaline, the guilt, the anxiety, or the simple effect of having Wednesday holding her hands, but she thought she was hallucinating, because she was almost sure that Wednesday was giving her a very small and discreet but definitely genuine smile. Maybe her crush wasn’t so little after all.
“You have to stop doing this, asking me to commit all these crimes with you,” Enid whispered.
“Because it’s making me fall in love with you,” she admitted with a nervous smile and a shrug of her shoulders. She was terrible at holding back her feelings, and Wednesday made it surprisingly easy to bare her heart for her.
For one miraculous moment, Wednesday looked surprised, but then her usually cold face warmed, and she looked more pleased than Enid had ever seen before. “Then it means my mother’s advice worked, and I shall never stop doing this,” Wednesday replied, her smile widened a little and then she simply walked away proudly.
“Oh… Oh,” Enid gasped as she realized that not only her feelings were reciprocated, but that she was totally going to keep following Wednesday into whatever crimes she would lead her to.
emoji prompts! (accepting ronance, avatrice, and wenclair prompts)
Can you do a fruity four oneshot/imagine where they notice reader start to get anxious then reader has an anxiety attack which leads to reader passing out? And then they take care of reader because it really worried them. (At home)
I've asked so many people this and none of them have done it so.
Yes!! I’ve been wanting to write some fluffy stuff and this is right up my alley cause I’ve been anxious asf lately.
You’re Not What You Think You Are
Fruity Four x Reader
Angst and Fluff
Trigger Warning: Anxious behaviors, dissociating, flashbacks, verbal parental abuse, panic attack, passing out
It’s Wednesday and you already want this week to be over. Your entire family is out of town on vacation and you had to stay home because of school. You hate being alone, it not only makes you depressed, but it also makes your anxiety much worse. Normally, you’d ask one of your friends to stay with you, at least for a night or two while your family’s gone, but each of them has their own stuff going on. You don’t want to bother them, between their jobs and school, you can’t imagine how stressed they are. School isn’t helping your anxiety and depression either, not at all. So far, you’ve had at least one test each day this week, with another one tomorrow and a project due Friday that you’re only a quarter of the way done with. You’re so overwhelmed, but the only person aware of that, is you. None of your friends know because you don’t want to trouble them with your problems. You’d never mention this to your parents, they’d only make you feel worse. So, you decided that this is your battle to fight and you’ll manage it alone. You’re currently at school, sitting in your chemistry class, taking a test. Suddenly, the lunch bell rings, signaling your time is up. In shock, you look up at the clock in the classroom and the time proves that it wasn’t a false bell, class was actually over. You’re on the second to last question and you realize that you’re not going to finish. Everyone else in your class is standing up, backpacks on, and handing their tests to your teacher. Once the last student leaves, the teacher finally notices you in the back corner of the classroom. He notices that you’re rushing to write things down and says, “Y/N, I’m sorry, but I need your test.” You look up at him with tears in your eyes. A lump forms in your throat as you’re trying not to cry. You ask him, “Mr. Johnson, can I please just have five more minutes? Please?” His eyes soften and he says, “(Y/N), I’m sorry. I wish I could, but it wouldn’t be fair to the other students.” As much as you hated his response, you knew he was right. You stand up, throw your backpack over your shoulder, then walk over to him and hand him your test with your head down. He says, “(Y/N), I’m truly sorry you weren’t able to finish” and you can tell by his tone that he was being sincere. You weren’t able to look at him because you were trying your best not to cry. A mumbled, “It’s okay” leaves your mouth, before you leave the classroom and head directly to the bathroom. You immediately head to the big stall, then lock its door behind you. Tears are rolling down your cheeks as you’re taking deep breaths, attempting to calm yourself down. A couple minutes after, you stop crying, then leave the stall and look in the mirror. Your eyes and face are a little red, but other than that, you looked fine. You left the bathroom and made your way towards the cafeteria, acting like nothing happened.
When you enter the cafeteria, you see your friends eating at their normal lunch table. You walk over to them and they all greet you while you sit down. Nancy’s sitting beside you, Robin’s sitting in front of her, and Eddie is sitting across from you. Eddie says, “(Y/N), we were about to go looking for you, what took you so long?” You reply, “I just had to go to the bathroom, that’s all” and they nod. Nancy turns to you and says, “You just had your chemistry test, right? How’d that go?” Immediately, you start feeling a pain in your chest and the lump in your throat returns, but you’re determined to fight it off. You say, “I did, yeah. It was fine”, that may have been your response, but all three of them could tell something was off. None of them wanted to push you though, so Nancy just said, “Well, that’s good, I think. You’re really smart, so I’m sure you did well.” All you could manage to respond with was a slight nod, not making eye contact with any of them. That was all the confirmation they needed to know that something was definitely wrong. Immediately, you think to yourself, “If I was smart, I would have finished the test” and the pain in your chest starts to hurt more. Robin’s the first to say something, she asks, “(Y/N), is something wrong?” You can feel three pairs of eyes staring at you, awaiting your response. You shake your head and say, “No, I’m okay. What were you guys talking about before I came over?” Robin replies, but you’re so in your head, that you can’t comprehend what she’s saying. You think to yourself, “I’m a liar.” The three of them go back to their conversation, hoping that you’ll join in, but you don’t. You can hear them talking, but none of their words are processing through your brain. More thoughts form and they’re coming at you a mile a second, eating you alive. You’re just sitting there, staring at a chip in the table. You’re completely zoned out, but it feels a hundred times worse than usual. You have no idea what’s happening and you feel like you’re in a movie. The pain in your chest hasn’t gone away and neither has the lump in your throat. The pain is the only thing making you feel like you’re real. You start to feel yourself getting dizzy, but you ignore it. As your brain continues to focus on your thoughts, your chest starts to feel tight and the lump in your throat is making you feel like you can’t breathe. Then, the chip in the table you’ve been staring at has been blocked by a hand that’s waving in front of your face. It’s big and has callouses on the finger tips with several metal rings on its knuckles. You’re so zoned out that it takes you a few seconds to realize Eddie is waving his hand in front of your face. He says in a playful tone, “(Y/N). Hellooooo, earth to, (Y/N).” You blink harshly, squeezing your eyes shut for a few seconds and shake your head a few times. When you open your eyes and look at him, you mumble, “Sorry.” His eyes soften and he asks, “Are you sure you’re okay?” You can feel Robin and Nancy looking at you, also wanting to make sure you’re okay. You lie to them for the second time and say, “Mhmmm. I’m fine, I’m just tired. Don’t worry.” Eddie nods, even though he doesn’t believe you and you keep repeating the word “Liar” in your head. It’s interrupted by Eddie tapping you and he says, “We wanted to know if you’re free on Saturday? We were talking about hanging out at Steve’s. Just us three and Steve, of course. Nothing crazy either, we’ll probably just watch some movies and hang out.” You reply, “That sounds good, I’ll be there” and Eddie says, “Okay, great!” Then, the three of them start talking again. As soon as their attention is no longer on you, you start to zone out again.
Your thoughts come rushing back to you, this time harsher than before. There were so many before, but now the same ones keep cycling back, like they’re stuck on a loop. “If you tell them what’s wrong, you’ll worry them”, “You’ll be a burden”, “You don’t want to be a burden, do you?”, “You’re a liar”, “You’re dumb”, “You’re going to fail your test tomorrow”, “You’re not going to be able to finish your project by Friday”, “You should’ve finished that test”, and “You’re pathetic” keep repeating, over and over again. Then, flashbacks of your parents screaming, “You’re pathetic” and “You’re a failure” to you, play in your mind like it happened just a few minutes ago. You start to feel the pain in your chest getting much worse and the lump in your throat makes you feel like you can no longer breathe. You’re on the verge of tears, but you remind yourself where you are. You quickly stand up, throw your backpack over your shoulder, and dart to the bathroom. Luckily for you, it was empty again, so you return to the big stall and lock its door behind you. You immediately start bursting into tears and lean up against the painted brick wall of the bathroom. Too overwhelmed to care about how dirty the floor is, you just slide down, until your butt hits the floor. Your knees are at your chest and you curl yourself up into a ball while crying. The flashbacks of your parents screaming at you are on replay in your mind. You put your hands over your ears and keep mumbling “stop”, over and over again. They continue playing, their voices are all you can hear and their faces are all you can see. The lump in your throat becomes unbearable and it starts to feel like you’re suffocating. Your chest feels extremely tight and it’s making it feel impossible for you breathe. You start hyperventilating and seconds later, the door to the bathroom swings open. Your eyes are fluttering open and shut, but you see a pair of red converse with doodles on them, followed by a pair of black flats. It’s Robin and Nancy. They hear crying and hyperventilating, but if they’re saying anything, you can’t hear it. All you can hear are your parents’ voices. You watch as Nancy ducks her head down to look underneath the stalls. Apparently, she can recognize you by your shoes and pants. She comes running over to the big stall and tries to open it, but realizes you locked it. Before she can even think about breaking down the door, Robin lays on her backpack and slides underneath the stall door. She sees you hyperventilating with your hands over your ears, your body shaking and you’re aggressively shaking your head side-to-side. Robin quickly unlocks the stall door for Nancy and rushes over to you first. She sits beside you and puts her leg against yours in attempt to ground you, but you’re too far gone. You stop shaking your head as your eyes start taking longer flutters. You’re trying to resist passing out and you keep jerking your head up every time your eyes are closed too long. Nancy quickly makes her way into the stall and kneels down in front of you. That’s all you remember before everything goes black.
You passed out, falling into Robin, who extends her legs and moves your head onto her lap. She starts freaking out and rambling, “Nance, what are we going to do? I don’t know what to do! I knew something was wrong, I knew it! Why wouldn’t they tell us that whatever was going on was this bad? Cause this is bad. Clearly, very very bad.” Nancy says, “Robin, I need you to calm down, so I can think. Okay? They’re going to be fine.” Robin nods, takes a deep breath, and says, “Okay. Okay. Yeah, I can do that. Totally. I can totally do that.” Nancy starts pacing and a minute later, she says, “Okay. Steve’s at home, right?” Robin thinks for a second and replies, “Yeah, we don’t work today at all. Why?” Nancy says, “Okay, that’s perfect. The plan is, you’re going to stay here with (Y/N), while I go call Steve. He’s going to come pick you and (Y/N) up, then the three of you are going to go back to his house. After I call Steve, I’m going to find Eddie and we’re going to meet you guys at Steve’s.” Robin takes a few seconds to process everything and replies, “Okay, sounds good. Now go!” Nancy quickly makes her way to the school’s phone and calls Steve. The phone rings a few times before he answers. He says, “This is the Harrington residence, Steve Harrington speaking how-”, but Nancy cuts his greeting short. She says, “Steve! I need you to come to the school ASAP. (Y/N) had a panic attack and passed out.” He says, “Nance? Wait, what? I’ll be there in 10 are they okay?” and Nancy replies, “I don’t know, but they’re with Robin in the bathroom. I’m going to go find Eddie and we’ll meet you at your house. Sound good?” Steve says, “Yeah, I’ll be there as fast as I can” and Nancy says, “Thank you”, before Steve hangs up the phone. She runs back to the cafeteria and as soon as she enters, the bell rings. Nancy can see Eddie’s mane of hair and immediately runs over to him. He sees how stressed she looks and asks, “Everything good, Wheeler?” and Nancy replies, “Robin and I found (Y/N) in the bathroom crying, then they passed out. They’re with Robin now and I called Steve. He’s on his way right now to pick the two of them up. You’re riding with me and we’re going to Steve’s.” He says, “Dammit! I knew they weren’t okay!” and the two of them start quickly walking towards the parking lot. Eddie asks, “Did (Y/N) say anything before passing out?” and Nancy says, “Not that I know of. They locked themself in the big stall, so Robin slid under and got in there first. She unlocked the door for me and I quickly kneeled in front of them. Only a couple seconds later, they passed out, falling into Robin’s shoulder.” He replies, “I wish they would have said something. I’d drop everything to make sure they’re okay” and Nancy says, “Me too. We all would.” The two of them make it out to the parking lot and wait for Steve. A couple minutes later, he pulls in at an alarming speed and hops out of the car like it’s on fire. He looks at Eddie and Nancy, then says, “Which bathroom are they in?”, his eyes and tone showing just how worried he is. Nancy replies, “East. The one closest to the cafeteria” and then he was gone. As soon as he heard everything, Steve was sprinting into the building, while Eddie and Nancy waited in the parking lot until everyone returned.
Steve was running through the school hallways until he came across the bathroom. He knocked before he walked in and said, “Robin?” She replied, “Steve! Steve, come in! Come in!” and he barged through the bathroom. He ran over to the big stall and stopped as soon as he saw your head on Robin’s lap. You were still unconscious and Robin had tears in her eyes. He said, “Okay, let me pick her up and while we walk back to my car, please tell me what the hell happened?” and Robin replied, “Okay. Of course, yeah. Of course.” Steve picks (Y/N) up with ease and Robin opens the bathroom door for him. As they’re walking, Robin says, “Okay, I- I have no idea what’s really going on with (Y/N), but this is what happened. They came over to us at lunch and something was obviously wrong, but Eddie, Nancy, and I didn’t want to push them to say anything they didn’t want to. We were all talking and then, out of nowhere, they just got up and ran away. Nance and I went to look for them, cause we of course were worried, cause they wouldn’t just run off like that for no reason, you know? Anyway, we entered the bathroom and heard crying, but nobody would respond. We looked underneath the stalls and found them curled up in a ball, locked in the big stall. I slid underneath it, then unlocked the door for Nance. A couple seconds after she entered, (Y/N) passed out.” Steve said, “I really wish they would have told at least one of us what was happening. They know we care, right? I care about them so much.” A couple tears fall and roll down Robin’s cheeks. With her voice quivering she says, “We all- We all do.” He looks at her with soft eyes and nods, wishing he could hug her. They’re about to leave the school and Robin starts wiping her tears away. She opens the door for Steve and they start walking to the parking lot. Nancy and Eddie come running up to them and Nancy asks, “They haven’t woken up yet?” Both Steve and Robin respond shaking their heads no, making both of them more anxious than they were. Eddie starts fidgeting with his rings and Nancy start biting her lip while pacing. Nancy stops her pacing, takes a deep breath, and says, “It’ll be okay. We need to get them back to Steve’s though. So, uh- okay. Okay, I got it. Robin, sit in the back of Steve’s car for me. The three of us are going to get (Y/N) situated in the back with you. Their head is going to be on your lap again and I’m going to need you to, you know, protect their body while Steve drives. Sound good?” As Robin starts moving towards the backseat of Steve’s car, she says, “Yeah, I got it Nance.” She sits in the back and puts her seatbelt on, then Nancy, Eddie, and Steve, work on getting (Y/N) into the backseat. Once (Y/N)’s situated in the backseat, Steve gets in the driver seat and starts the car. Meanwhile, Eddie and Nancy are quickly making their way to Nancy’s car. Steve drives off and Nancy leaves only a minute or two after them. Robin started tearing up in the backseat as she ran her fingers through your hair. Steve heard sniffles and looked through his rear view mirror. His eyes soften again and he says, “Rob, it’s gonna be okay. They’re gonna wake up and everything’s going to be fine.” She replies, “Yeah, I know. I’m just worried about them, cause why wouldn’t they tell us? And I don’t want to bombard them with questions when they wake up, but I want to know. I want to know what’s going on, everything.” Tears start rolling down her cheeks again and Steve says, “I know, Rob. I know. We’re all worried and we all want to know. We’ll figure everything out once they wake up and we’ll help them the best we can, that’s all we can do.” Robin nods her head while wiping her tears away with one hand, the other still combing through your hair. By the time everyone arrives to Steve’s house, you’re still unconscious. Steve turns off his car and throws his keys to Nancy. She quickly unlocks and opens his door, while Steve maneuvers you off of Robin’s lap. He picks you up and carries you inside, then places you on the couch, with your head resting on some pillows.
Robin, Eddie, and Nancy are in the kitchen, anxiously waiting for you to wake up. Steve gets you a glass of water and puts it on the coffee table beside you for when you wake up. Afterwards, he joins the others in the kitchen, also anxiously waiting. Around five minutes after arriving at Steve’s, the four of them hear grumbling. They look over to see you stretching and when you opened your eyes, you looked very confused. Everyone quickly came into Steve’s living room and as you were sitting up, you asked, “What- What happened? Why am- Why am I at Steve’s?” Nancy sat beside you and said, “You were having a panic attack when Robin and I found you. Around a minute later, you passed out and you’ve been out for probably 30 minutes now. I called Steve and he picked you up, while Robin stayed with you in the backseat. Eddie and I followed them here, since we both wanted to be here when you woke up. Are you okay?” Immediately everything started coming back to you and you said, “You guys didn’t have to do all that for me. I’m fine.” Nancy put her hand on your knee and said, “(Y/N), we care about you and we want to help you.” Eddie sits on the other side of you and when you look into his eyes, you immediately feel a rush of guilt. His normal sweet eyes, now look like a sad puppy and you know it’s because of you. You immediately break eye contact with him and mumble an, “I’m sorry.” Eddie wraps his arm around you and that’s all it takes before you turn your head into his chest, then break down. He puts his other arm around you and wraps you in a tight embrace, while Nancy lightly scratches your back. Steve sits down beside Eddie and Robin sits beside Nancy, all four of them watching you break down and sob. Eddie and Nancy have been whispering sweet things to you, trying their best to calm you down. After a while, you stop crying and you move back to your original position, then look at everyone. You look at Eddie first and say, “I’m sorry I broke down in your arms, Eds. I don’t kn-” He interrupts you and says, “Don’t apologize for that. That’s what I’m here for. No no, that’s what we’re all here for. (Y/N), we care about you and we’d do anything for you, anything.” Steve chimes in and says, “I don’t care what I’m doing, I would drop anything if you needed me. We care about you so much, (Y/N).” Robin nods her head and says, “Really we do. You mean a lot to me (Y/N). You mean a lot to us.” You nod your head and Nancy says in the sweetest voice imaginable, multiplied by 1000, “Can you tell us what’s wrong, please?” You reply, “Y- Yeah. I’m just a little ner- nervous.” Nancy nods and says, “Take your time, there’s no rush.” You nod and take a deep breath, then notice the glass of water in front of you. You grab the glass and chug it like you’ve never had water before, then Steve takes the empty glass from you. As he gets up to go refill it, you take deep breaths until he comes back.
Steve returns with a full glass of water and places it on the coffee table before sitting back down again. You take a deep and say, “Okay. So um- I didn’t tell any of you, but my parents- they’re uh- out of town. They left me home alone and I hate being alone. I would’ve asked one of you to stay with me, but I didn’t want to um- b- bother you guys. I know school and work has to be stressful, so I didn’t want to bur-” and Robin interrupts you. Her voice is a little shaky as she says, “(Y/N), no. Don’t you dare finish that sentence. You never bother us, ever and asking for help when you need it, is okay. That’s what we’re here for. You’re not a burden and you never will be.” A few tears rolls down her face and you say, “Th- Thank you, Robs.” She nods and you continue, “So, I haven’t been slee- sleeping and that’s even if I’ve had time to. I’ve had so many tests this week, I have one tomorrow I need to study for and I have a project on Friday I’m nowhere near done with. I had my chemistry test today and I-” You pause and inhale shakily.
Steve refills the glass and puts it back on the coffee table. Once he’s sat back down, you say, “Okay. So I’ve been really stressed this week. I didn’t uh- I didn’t tell any of you, but my family went on vacation and left me home alone. I really hate being- being alone, but I didn’t want to b- bother you guys. I know- I know you’ve all been str- stressed too, so I didn’t want to add- add onto it. I haven’t been slee- sleeping well and that’s if I’ve even had time to. I’ve had a test every- every day this week and my chemistry test today, I-” You pause and take a deep breath. Eddie puts his hand on your leg and says, “It’s okay. We’re here.” Nancy gently grabs your hand and rubs her thumb across your knuckles. You take another deep breath before continuing, “My chemistry test, I- I didn’t f- f- finish it. I had two questions left and I ran- I ran out of time. It made me feel like I’m a f- f-” and a few tears fall. Nancy gently wipes them away and squeezes your hand. Then, she says, “It’s okay, (Y/N). Breath for me. Take your time.” You take a deep breath and say, “It made me feel like a f- failure and like I’m pa- pathetic. My parents used to- they used to scream it at me when I was a kid if I didn’t get good grades. I was having um- flashbacks when Nancy and Robin found me. But um- tomorrow I have another test and Friday I have a project due that I’m nowhere near done with. I’m just- I’m so overwhelmed and I don’t- I don’t know what to do.” Everyone can tell that you’re starting to get really anxious again, so before you can even start to spiral, everyone finds a way to ground you. Nancy continues holding your hand and rubbing her thumb across your knuckles. Eddie puts his arm back around you and when he does, Steve notices a lighter in his pocket. He steals it out of Eddie’s pocket and lights the scented candle on the coffee table. Last but not least, Robin moves to sit on the floor in front of you, then starts tracing different shapes and patterns on different areas of your legs. Once they’ve noticed you’re more grounded, Steve says, “(Y/N), you know you’re never bothering us if you ask for help, never. I would stay at your house for a whole month if you needed me to. I truly don’t mind.” You watch as everyone else nods their heads and you say, “I just- I didn’t- I didn’t want to be a bur- burden.” Robin says, “(Y/N), no. Don’t say that. Please don’t say that. You aren’t and you’ll never be a burden to me or to any of us. Never never think that about yourself because it’s simply not true.” Everyone nods in agreement again and you say, “But with-” and Eddie interrupts you. He says, “No buts, you are not a burden and you’re not an inconvenience to any of our lives. We want to help you and be there for you, so something like what happened today, doesn’t happen again. You’re not alone, (Y/N). Your battles are our battles too, okay?” You start to tear up again and you mumble, “O- Okay.” Eddie wraps both his arms around you, this time in an awkward side hug. He squeezes you tight before letting his other arm fall back by his side again.
You have a smile on your face, feeling so loved and appreciated by everyone around you. Nancy says, “(Y/N), please don’t let what your parents have said to you in the past get to you. You’re so smart, you’re not a failure and definitely not pathetic. Please please know that.” Your eyes soften and you say, “Thank you guys, that’s all really sweet.” Everyone smiles and Eddie says, “(Y/N), I know you don’t want to be alone tonight and I’d be happy to stay with you, if you want” and Steve says, “You’re also more than welcome to crash here if you don’t want to go home.” You reply, “Thank you both. I do want to go home though cause I have to study and work on my project.” Steve nods, then Nancy chimes in and says, “(Y/N), I can help you study tonight if you want.” Your eyes widen and she giggles, then says, “Not how I normally study, you’ve been through enough today. We’ll just make flashcards based off your notes and I’ll quiz you.” Robin says, “And while you guys are studying, I can help you with your project. You’ll just need to explain it to me and stuff, but I’m sure I can help.” You say, “You guys really don’t have to, I’ll be okay. Really, I will.” Robin replies, “We know we don’t have to, we want to.” You smile and say, “Thank you guys, I don’t know what I’d do without you. How about everyone comes over and we can all have a sleepover?” You look over at Eddie and Steve, then say, “I do have to study though, which, as we’re all aware, is not your guys’ strong suits.” Both boys hold a hand to their chest, acting offended. Steve says, “(Y/N), I’m hurt!” with a pout on his face, forcing it not to break into a smile. You giggle and Eddie says, “Me too!” Everyone starts laughing and you say, “I’m sorry, geeeeez” while giggling. You continue on and say, “Everyone can come, let’s just relax here for a little bit first.” Everyone nods and Nancy says, “Thank you for trusting us and telling us everything. We love and care about you.” She squeezes your hand and you smile, then reply, “I love and appreciate you guys more than you’ll ever know. Thank you for everything.” As you sit there, with the four of them surrounding you, you realize that there’s no place you’d rather be. The four of them make you feel more loved then anyone ever has in your entire life. Your smile grows wider as you finally feel what it’s like to be 100% loved and appreciated by not only one person, but four.
I hope you liked this!!🥺💖
!!!MINORS DNI!!! 18+ONLY !!!
This is the first part of my little 'Teachers Pet Series' (I will add the link once I got all parts covered and the right ideas).
Summary: A simple task fucked up late at night as you send the wrong version of a piece of homework to your English literature teacher Mister Bakugo. Of course, he would want to see you after class the next day. But not for the reasons you might think.
Pairing: Docent!Bakugo x afab!student!y/n // Words: 4.2k+
Side note: Insert a friend or random name you want for X :)
TW: nsfw: slow burn (sorry), spanking with a ruler, hair pulling, being bend over a desk, calling him sir, spitting, choking, dirty talk, degrading, slight praise
„Write an essay about the worst description of a woman or coitus. In the essay, explain why it is bad and then rewrite it. At least 30 pages, max. 60 pages (sources and any other extras you please to include, excluded). Due Date: 8 weeks from now on, 35% worth of your end grade. Questions can be asked per E-Mail, or, if you must, I’m free every Wednesday afternoon for meetings strictly for this essay and this essay only.“
A sigh left your lips as you starred at the piece of paper for the tenth time today ever since he handed it out to you and your classmates. The options you had were endless, you knew so many bad pieces about both topics and could write more than 100 pages about them as well. Everyone in class you talked to had decided on their topic already, some were even further. It was X who told you to just write the topics on a piece of paper and let fate do its work.
Black ink on a badly ripped blue note decided that you were going to write about a sex scene. Just now that you thought about it, rewriting something like that for your professor to read was an awfully stupid idea, yet you decided to listen to a small piece of paper.
At first, you were going to go with Fifty Shades of Grey but you felt like the choice was chewed up and spat out. It took you three days to finally decide on a book and once you settled there was no turning back. Considering your ignited interest in this topic you weren’t surprised when you were done within the first four weeks. Knowing the editing is going to take another week, maybe even a week and a half, you decided to take a small break, just one or two days off. On your second day, you decided to visit the new coffee shop that had just opened up around the corner.
Never had you expected to see your professor near your living spot. You were about to greet him when you noticed his pissed-off expression on his face and only now did you spot the woman behind him. She grabbed his arm and made him turn on the relatively small and empty street.
„Suki you can’t be serious,“ she was angry and hurt, while he seemed to be angry and annoyed. Not much of a difference than to how you see him on the daily, to be honest.
„Are you fucking stupid? Of course, I’m fucking god damn serious. It was your choice to cheat on me and now I choose to throw you on the streets where you apparently belong, go ask one of your little boy toys to take you in for all I care,“ you were frozen in place, not entirely sure what to do. Right now your eyes were glued on his chest that was clad in a tight, black pullover, rising up and down heavily as his nostrils were flared caused by his anger.
„Because you gave me no choice! If you like that sort of weird, rough shit then paddle your own canoe! I need something soft and tender-,“ before she could finish her sentence he laughed. Cold and slightly maniac in a way.
„Then get some fucking chicken! If you don’t like how I’m in bed then break up with me and piss off but don’t send my best friend a nude to ask him to come over. Even a ten-year-old would see how stupid that is,“at that moment your eyes met. His eyebrows were furled together, red eyes expression furry and disgust. Blond hair usually styled like he was going to be on the cover of Vogue, like he had been before, now slightly messy. Plump lips slightly apart to let his teeth shine through slightly before wetting them with his tongue. Your eyes widened and before you knew what you were doing you waved at him, making him cock his eyebrows in confusion for a second before noticing it was you who he was looking at. Turning on your heels you walked past busy crowds of people as you walked back home, trying to understand what you had just seen and why your angry professor had turned you on more than anyone had done before.
It was a stupid idea to ditch the next teaching unit of his but you had absolutely no clue how you were going to look at him. You knew teachers had a private life themselves, but never would you have guessed that you would run into one of them in your small area. As far as you knew he lived across town according to the very, very few private stories he had shared in magazines.
down below is my finished project as an attachment in form of a PDF. I know you request it to be printed as well and I had planned to hand it in today, but sadly I came down with the flu. I’m looking forward to attending your next unit in the following week.
Have a nice week,
Maybe he had forgotten that you were there already and you were worrying too much about it. You were his student, nothing more, nothing less. Bakugo could care less about you, right? The flu did go around a lot right now, so it wouldn’t be completely unthinkable that you were sick. Itching eyes signaled you that it was time to go to bed now, so you closed your laptop and went to bed, not knowing what the next day will hold for you.
X had waited for you at the main entrance the next day to give you all the information you might need and ask why you weren’t there, considering it was obvious that you had the flu for one day only. At first, you were hesitant to explain what you had witnessed, it was messy already and you doubt Mister Bakugo would want the fight to go viral at his workplace.
„Just one of those days you know? I had my mind completely full and felt like crap,“ that was the best excuse you could come up with, a white little lie that wouldn’t harm anyone.
„Glad to see you’re doing- Oh, hello Professor,“ X smiled at someone behind you. There was no need to turn around to know who it was, the scent of his very expensive and extremely beguiling perfume clouding your mind.
„Hello,“ his gruff voice greeted your friend shortly as you turned around, met with his muscular chest. You didn’t expect him to be so close to you, but here you were, tilting your head slightly as you looked up to him through your lashes, feeling not just your cheeks growing hot.
„Good morning Sir,“ your voice sounded a lot more confident than you were feeling. Bakugo clenched his fist around the fake leather of his bag, his red eyes starring right into your soul as you had no chance of escaping whatever was going to happen next.
„Miss Y/L/N, just the person I was looking for,“ fuck.
„You were?“ X and you said at the same time, but your friend decided to excuse themself after a single glare from the older man.
„How may I help you, Professor?“ You asked after swallowing down the anxious feeling that threatened to rise.
„I received your Mail yesterday, with the PDF,“ okay, why did he search you just to tell you he got your assignment? Was it that bad?
„But I’m relatively sure that it was the wrong one, considering I doubt that you want your teacher to know that 'this shit is so bad, but I wouldn’t mind being bent over a writing desk like that' with a smirking emoji at the end,“ only when his finger pushed your chin upwards gently you noticed that it was agape, shame filling every molecule in your body as you already planned your escape out of this country. Nobody was near you to see the weirdly intimidating scene happening between you and your teacher.
„Also I know you didn’t have the flu. I don’t appreciate being lied to. Tomorrow five p.m. in my office, don’t be late or you will get in more trouble. Send me the actual version tonight so I can grade it. I won’t let something as unprofessional as this slide again, understood?“ You nodded, taking in all of the information given to you, and somewhat in all of this mess felt thankful that he was giving you a second chance.
The man in front of you rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue, ordering you to speak up.
„Yes Sir, thank you,“ you sounded more confident than you felt inside.
„Good,“ was all Bakugo said before he turned around, leaving you behind in the big hall dumbfounded and confused… And horny.
As if Chronos himself felt immense joy in your misery, minutes appeared to be hours and the panic inside of you only grew the closer you came to five in the afternoon. You tried everything, watching a show, listening to podcasts and audiobooks, reading a book you had put of for so long, went outside, cooked something, worked on another assignment, stopped yourself from destroying your hair, made the phone call you so desperately had put off and it’s still only ten p.m on the same day. How was that even possible? As you laid in bed you tossed and turned, the thought of your really hot teacher all angry, breathing heavily, his hands roaming your body. It was hard to pinpoint exactly when those thoughts turned into a very lucid dream, but when you woke up in the morning, already an hour too late to your first period, all you wanted to do was scream into your pillow.
Considering first class is canceled, you wanna go grab breakfast?
X texted you.
Canceled? Checking your mails you saw your teacher had sent out a mail, excusing themselves and explaining they came down with the flu. A blessing in disguise. You let X know that you would meet up at the building and go grab something near it. Once agreed, you took a quick shower, a moment of peace given to you as water hit your body. There was no way you could do anything between your last class and the meeting with Professor Bakugo, so you tried to look your best possible for the next upcoming hours.
Suddenly time flew by and the closer you got the more you begged for a little bit more time, for him to postpone it, anything. But no, here you were, five minutes early and looking around to spot the blond man with no luck.
„Miss Y/L/N. Step inside,“ you jumped slightly as his voice boomed up behind you, not expecting him to be in the office already.
Once you walked inside you were stunned about how clean everything was, no matter where you looked it was neat. His books were sorted alphabetically with marks between them to let him know when a new letter began. As far as you could tell he used cherry wood for his pieces of furniture, a big, black carpet in a corner underneath a small seating area, and some books placed on the table. Even his paperwork was stacked in order. Big glass windows allowed the evening sun to fall into the room, its warmness kissing your skin while you were seated in front of him, a big writing desk between the two of you, on it your work.
It was quiet for a short moment, before he leaned back in his chair, red eyes mustering you up and down which didn’t help at all.
„What would you like to talk about first? Your assignment or the fact that you lied to me?“ Why was he so bothered by your lie? You knew plenty of students calling in sick every once in a while even though they aren’t.
„I apologize for both of it. It shouldn’t have happened and I learned from my mistake,“ you were hoping that it would ease his anger a little bit but he seemed more worked up than usual.
„Although I don’t understand why you are so angry at me for it? Plenty students lie-,“
„Yes, but they aren’t stupid enough to make it so obvious,“ he interrupted you.
„I could care less about who’s missing my class, it’s their fault in the end if they decide learning is unnecessary. However you are one of my top students, I expected better from you. You could have excused yourself with no explanation. But you chose to add the feeble lie about being sick for what?“
You took in a deep breath, feeling as if another lie would be caught immediate, so you had no other choice but to tell him the real reason:
„I heard the fight you had with the woman you were with, in the café, and I didn’t know how to react when I see you in your class,“ there was a small moment where he looked honestly confused before something clicked in his brain.
„So it was you who I saw. What did you hear?“
„I can’t really rem-,“
„One more lie and I will lose my temper, don’t test me,“ shit, why was he turning you on so much right now. He’s your teacher for god’s sake and angry at you, this wasn’t the right time.
„That she doesn’t agree with certain things in your private life,“
„Like?“ he knew you tried to talk around it, yet he wanted you to talk about, to see you embarrassed again, he liked that look on you.
„The way you fuck,“ it was said before your brain could even comprehend the words, another apology laying at the tip of your tongue but his next question cut you off before you could say something else.
„Why were you there in the first place? I’ve been there a few times and never saw you or any other student,“ he explained.
„Because I live close by?“ It sounded more defiantly than you had wanted, causing your opponent to cock his eyebrow.
„I feel like you’re forgetting who’s the authority figure here,“ he walked up to his door, locking it before coming back. Now he was right in front of you, slightly sitting on his desk and the sleeves of his button-up shirt pushed up a little.
„No sir, I’m sorry,“
„You see, the problem is, I don’t really believe you,“ with that he pulled you up, bodies pressed against each other, letting you feel his toned torso while the muscles in his arms flexed slightly.
„You lied to me once already, I think I have to teach you a lesson,“ everything happened so fast and you suddenly found yourself face down on his desk with his hand between your shoulder blades, the other one grabbing his wooden ruler.
„If I recall correctly this is what you wanted right?“ His voice was low, slightly above a whisper as his upper body was pressed against your back while he pulled a few hair strands from your face.
„Yes, but Professor I don’t think this is a good idea,“ your inner voice yelled at you, saying this was the best idea ever, angry that you possibly ruined your dreams coming true.
„Tell me to stop and I will do so immediately. Your choice. There will be no consequences if you worry about that,“ he reassured you, waiting for you to get up and run, but you didn’t and the current position allowed him to feel you clench your legs.
„So?“ He asked again, the ruler in his hand basically burning with the anticipation of hitting your skin.
„No, don't stop,“ you breathed, awaiting his next move.
„Good,“ with that he exposed your raised ass, your underwear the only thing between your bare skin and the wood that came down upon it, one foot raising in the air because of the sudden pain.
„From now on if you say stop I won’t listen, you will tell me how you feel through colors. If it’s too much you tell me red and I will drop everything, understood?“ Another spank was delivered to the same spot.
„Yes,“ another one. You weren’t sure if he hit harder or if your skin turned more sensitive with every blow.
„It’s sir to you,“ you could feel him lunge out but shortly before the ruler came down he stoped, laughing slightly at your small jump.
„Yes sir,“ another one.
„You’re going to apologize every time my ruler paints your cute ass even redder, got it?“ You nodded your head, a moan escaping the back of your throat as he spanked you yet again.
„One more thing, be a good girl and stay quiet, wouldn’t wanna get caught now do we?“ He knew it was going to be torture for you to follow his order the more he continued and in a way he wanted you to fail. There was so much build-up inside of him and it appears that you were willing enough for him to use you as he pleased. That’s why you were his favorite. Bakugo knew what he was doing was wrong and he never expected to feel this way for one of his students but forbidden fruit tastes the best.
You stopped counting after the seventh blow, sorries, sirs and small whimpers fall from your lips as if they were your whole vocabulary. At one point you started crying, tears mixed with mascara running down your cheeks. He tried to remember something that turned him on more than the sight of your messed-up body with no luck. Everything build up inside of him, everything itching in his hands, the inner desires he had to soften for his ex, it all was going to come down on you. His thick girth twitched at the simple thought of finally being surrounded by your dripping wet cunt.
A warm soft hand rubbed over your bruised flesh while the other one found its way into your hair to pull you up to him, your back arched.
„What are you sorry for?“ Your mind was clouded with pleasure and pain, the only thought right now was the feeling of his dick print right between your sore cheeks.
„I asked my little bitch a question, I expect you to fucking answer,“ this time he spanked you with his hand but it was just as intense as his ruler.
„I don’t know,“ you breathed, a soft moan slipping out of you when his thumb barely circled your throbbing clit.
„You’re just apologizing because you want me to use you?“ You could hear him chuckle lowly before he pushed your underwear to the side, his middle finger now playing with you.
„Yes sir,“ Katsuki couldn’t hear a single ounce of shame in your voice and he wondered how long you had been thinking about him like this before.
„I never expected you to be such a dumb, cock hungry whore,“ The sound of his belt hitting the floor was dull like it was far away from you but at the same time, you felt him closer than before. Strong hands around your waist turned you around and once again he lifted your head with his finger underneath your chin, studying your ruined make-up as if he was memorizing every little detail he never wanted to forget. The blond, muscular man lifted you with ease, your behind getting a small moment of cooling as it hit his wooden desk.
Bakugo dried your tears slightly with his thumb, smearing it even more.
„Only for you,“ you whispered and in that moment he couldn’t stop himself, he just had to kiss you. Not sweet and gentle, but passionately and hungry, like he was poisoned and your kiss was the antidote. The hand behind your head traveling to the front as you were laid down completely.
„If I had known before I would have fucked you so much sooner,“ with one hard thrust he was buried deep inside of you, one hand over your mouth because he knew you wouldn’t be able to keep quiet and the other one around your throat, squeezing shut and watching you struggle against it slightly. Your professor was thicker than what you were used to and you didn’t know how good it would feel until now. With the first few snaps of his hips, you knew you never wanted to feel something else anymore.
Your hands went to his arms and you tugged on them, causing him to let go as the blood found its way back to your brain.
„Color?“ he asked, afraid you weren’t able to handle him.
„Green,“ was all you could get out before another moan cut off your ability to talk.
„Good girl,“ he whispered into your ear, kissing down from your earlobe to your shoulder before sucking on a rather sensitive spot. Both of your wrists were held over your head with his left hand, with the explanation that he doesn’t appreciate being stopped while using you however he pleased. The right hand was going from between your chest after he admired your bouncing tits thoroughly, to your stomach to connect with your most sensitive bundle of nerves. Bakugo switched from circles to eights, from fast to slow, but the harshness of his hips never haltered.
„I know you wanna scream right now, but I can’t allow that. Can’t let others hear what a dirty slut you are for me right now. I promise I will fuck you in my house if you behave now. You can moan my name as much as you want. Or maybe I will gag you, watch you drool all over yourself. Maybe I will tie you up and edge you for an hour straight until you’re begging me to fuck you, you like the sound of that, huh? I can feel you squeezing around me,“ another chuckle left his plump lips as he watched you struggle to stay up on your feet.
„Maybe I will let you choke on my dick while I work on something for the next lesson. Gonna use you as my little cum dump. Let you think about it again when I talk about it in front of the whole class. Do-,“ you were so close when a sudden knock on the door startled you both, but he never once stopped what he was doing, if anything he went even harder, whispering into your ear to be quiet for him.
„Hey Kat, your ex is outside and says she wants to talk, want me to send her in?“ It was the psychologist professor Shinso, his voice as done and deep as usual.
„No, I’m occupied,“ Bakugo saw your mouth open after you fought so hard against it, he couldn’t let you moan, not right now. He did the first thing he could think of, spitting into it and watching you swallow. Oh, he would definitely film you do this with his cum covering you everywhere and the thought brought him slightly closer to his release.
„Still grading papers huh? I don’t get where you got all of that energy from,“ his voice was blurred out by Bakugo whispering into your ear.
„Do you want me to tell you what we're doing right now? Let him know I’m fucking my little toy stupid right now?“
And while you were shaking your head no it was the last straw for you and you found yourself grabbing his hand to put over your mouth, biting your lips until you tasted blood to muffle the scream you couldn’t stop. Bakugo cursed under his breath when he could feel you throbbing around his dick and your nails digging into his arm.
„Tell her to leave me the fuck alone, she’s already forgotten,“ his voice sounded strained and you knew he was close as well.
„Ah, I see. Well then have fun,“ his laugh was fading away the further he went.
„Can’t believe that made you cum, you’re even more perfect than I thought, such a dirty girl, tsk,“ both his hands are on your hips and he pulled your body against him with every thrust. You were still coming down from your orgasm when you felt his thrusts turning sloppy before he stopped completely, his dick now pulsing while he was holding you tightly. Breath uneven and getting stable on his feet again he turned you around, careful so he wouldn’t hurt you.
„Next time I gonna make sure you can’t walk but right now I need you to be able to leave the building,“ he pulled his pants back up and added: „Sadly,“ before walking around his desk.
It was still hard for you to stand so you sat down, wincing as the usually soft cushion now felt like thousand of tiny spikes on your bruised ass. Before you pull your bottoms up again he grabbed your wrist and pulled you up, once again with a stern expression on his face you were so familiar with.
„I apparently really fucked you stupid if you think I let you leave like this,“ having him put cooling cream on your bare bum felt more intimate than having him be balls deep inside you.
„Sorry I just thought-,“
„Well, you thought wrong. I don’t know what kind of boys you had in the past but now that you have me there are going to be changes, got that?“
just a wittle request, could you do something where bucky comforts the reader who has mommy issues after she has a panic attack over the thought of turning out like her mother?
Hi there, sorry this took so long! I still haven’t processed my own so I had to take a few breaks. I apologize if this is off the path of what you meant, I’m going off of my own experience but I know it’s different for everyone.
You're nothing like her.
Bucky x reader
Word count: 3219
Warnings: mommy issues, toxic childhood, talk of divorce, panic attack/anxiety, negative self-talk
A/N: This takes place in a timeline where Bucky is retired
You did everything you could to avoid it. To avoid her
You left home as soon as you could. When you were in college you were surrounded by people who were homesick, people who wanted to go home, people who finally had to take care of themselves. Things you couldn’t relate to.
You had been supporting yourself most of your life. Not that you had much of a choice. Your dad left when you were younger, your mother blaming it on you. If you had been better, maybe he wouldn’t have left. You, being young, believed her. What else were you supposed to do, growing up in a world that preaches ‘mother knows best’?
Load of bullshit to you.
You knew better now, being an adult, that she didn’t know best. She worked or went out with friends and left you to raise yourself, telling you it was your fault when she neglected her responsibilities. And when you would get upset she would play the victim, crying ‘woe is me’ because you were so ungrateful to the person who raised you after you drove her husband out.
“You know it’s your fault right?” she had snapped at you one night at dinner. There was a graded paper, a B written on the top of it.
“You’re the reason he left me. He just couldn’t stand you. You’re the reason why he left and why I’m so miserable now.”
You had felt tears in your eyes.
“Tears, really? Tears aren't going to change the fact that MY husband LEFT.”
Her husband, not your father.
No, you knew better now to know that what she had done and said was wrong. But that didn’t make you forget. It didn’t make it any easier for you.
You went to college, saved up as much as you could, and gave tight-lipped smiles when people asked why you didn’t go home on weekends or vacations. You tried not to talk about her much, but that didn’t stop you from thinking about her.
You had stood at your college graduation, caps thrown and loud laughs and cheers echoing around. There were a bunch of people celebrating around you, taking photos, but you had stood on the outskirts. You had a small smile on your face for everyone else, but you couldn’t help but feel empty inside. You hadn’t made many friends, not close friends, but that was a good thing. You could take the photo so no one was left out.
Not so much of a text from her. She hadn’t come, she hadn’t called or anything.
In a twisted way, you were glad that she hadn’t. She couldn’t make a big deal about how you weren’t the top of your class or how you didn’t deserve to be. How you didn’t have a job set up to start the next week even though you already were planning on submitting your resumes. There wasn’t a way to please her, so it was almost better that she wasn’t there.
You had texted her after a few days and she made up some bullshit excuse that she had forgotten to put it on the calendar.
She liked your Instagram photo though. So thoughtful
You worried you would turn out the same way. Or that she had rubbed off on you in some way. You kept to yourself as much as you could, staying in, keeping your emotions to yourself. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust people, maybe it was, but more so you were worried that you would seem like you were playing the victim.
You didn’t want to bother anyone or make anyone feel obligated to listen to you. You worried that behind your back they would complain about you being emotional or making everything about you.
You worried they would talk about you the same way you thought about your mother.
People are supposed to look to their parents to teach them what to be, yet you found yourself wanting to avoid everything your parents did to you. They taught you exactly who you didn’t want to be.
Your father left. Your mother hated you.
You didn’t share your opinions because you didn’t want to be told you were wrong. You didn’t want to force your ideas onto anyone. Not like what you said would make a difference anyway, not that it mattered in the first place.
You remembered all of the sentences you would start but not finish because no one had heard you. Trying to jump in a few times and eventually giving up when the conversation had moved onto a new subject. All the times people would interrupt or interject, making you feel like you didn’t have something to say that was worth hearing.
You thought it would get better when you got a job. But the pressure you put on yourself to do well in school was transferred to the job you had gotten. You still were afraid that people saw yourself as your mom used to and that you would never be good enough for anyone. You thought that achievements would make you feel fulfilled.
But if you didn’t believe in yourself, what were a few “job well done's” supposed to do?
It made it hard to get into a relationship. People say that “you have to love yourself before you can love someone else,” but that didn’t feel so true to you. It was more that you didn’t trust yourself to love someone else. You worried about hurting whoever you were with, and you told yourself that if you didn’t get close to anyone, you couldn’t hurt them.
But then you ran into him.
He was on a morning run and you were walking home from a night shift, both too tired to see each other coming. You because you had just finished a shift, him because he was running off the nightmare he had had the night previous. Both of you craving a sleep that seemed just out of reach.
You were very apologetic, as was he, both afraid that you had hurt the other. You avoided his eyes even though they were trained anywhere but your own, as he fiddled with his gloved hands and you scratched the back of your neck.
It was the first time either of you had seen someone as unsure as yourselves
You had parted ways with only each other's names. Bucky and y/n.
The two of you crossed paths a few times in the following weeks, eventually getting each other’s phone numbers and agreeing to meet for coffee rather than hoping the other left at the right time. Eventually, the subtle nervous tics each of you had died down as you got to know each other.
For the most part.
You still overly apologized for everything. If you were a few minutes late, if you spaced out...you took the blame for everything.
Traffic had been bad, a storm and an accident causing you to be 5 minutes late rather than 15 minutes early. You had run into the coffee shop, scanning the restaurant with wide eyes when you saw Bucky sitting there casually.
“I am so so so sorry, I should’ve left earlier, there was an accident, I’m so sorry I’m late -”
“Y/n, don’t worry about it,” he had said, a smile on his face and a slight flash of concern on his face. “Seriously, it’s a couple of minutes. It’s literally fine.”
“No, I’m really sorry, I should’ve known or called or something.”
“Relax. It’s totally fine, I promise,” he had said, concern a little more present on his face. “Are you okay though?”
“What? Yeah, I’m good. How have you been with everything?
You wouldn’t let him talk about you. The same way your mother never let you talk about yourself.
Don’t think about her.
He had started opening up to you but you still kept your personal life under lock and key. Your name, how work was, and your physical well-being was about as personal as you got. Even so, if work had been a shit show or you had to pull an all-nighter would go unspoken. He didn’t need the burden of your personal issues. Not when there was nothing he could do about it.
The past was the past, you just had to learn how to get over yourself.
You couldn’t change what your mother had said over a decade ago.
You worried if you talked about yourself at all then you would be making the situation about you. You worried you would project your anger or sadness onto him. He didn’t deserve that. Plus, it wasn’t like he would be able to do anything, right?
You promised yourself you wouldn’t let him get too close. That if he didn’t get close to you, you couldn’t hurt him.
But damn, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t start developing feelings for him. And from the way he had started acting, you thought maybe he was too.
The hugs that were ever so slightly too tight or when he smiled at you a little longer than normal. He had opened up to you about many things in his past, and from the way he talked about it, you could tell he hadn’t talked about it much with anyone else.
You found comfort in your friendship, the way he trusted you. You liked being there for him, and you were honored that he trusted you enough to open up to you. Yet it also made you uneasy that you would ruin it in some way or drive him out.
The same way your mom drove out your father.
Goddamn it don’t think about her.
The closer you got and the closer you and Bucky had gotten, the more nervous you were. That you would turn out like your mother. You were having a harder time keeping to yourself, keeping up the façade that everything was all bright in your world. You wanted to be a light for everyone.
But at some point, days turn to nights and the light gives way to the darkness.
And you weren’t sure how much time you had left before you cracked.
Bucky had started making small moves towards you, and you were trying your best to deflect them in efforts to not fall flat on your face for him. He came over Wednesday nights for a movie and take out with you, and what started as being on two opposite ends of the couch had moved to being next to each other to him having his arm wrapped around you. Sometimes you felt he was a little too close and you would either shift away or get up to grab another drink or ‘use the bathroom’.
When you came back you would make an attempt to sit a bit further away.
Sometimes when Bucky would say goodbye at the end of the night he would hug you. That was nothing new, you were both big on hugs, but lately, he had been hugging you longer or tighter, lingering a few moments longer than could be platonic. You had started ending the hugs earlier, giving him a small squeeze before pulling away.
It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be with Bucky. It was that you were so scared that you would drive him away, leaving you as soon as you had started calling yourself his.
Which is what brought you here. Bucky had come over for another one of your movie nights and had his arm behind the couch rather than around you. An invitation for you to curl into his side, but he wanted you to make that choice. Eventually, you had found yourself curled up with him, his arm wrapped around you, and you could feel the tension.
You wanted to move away before you found yourself in too deep, but you couldn’t resist. It had been a long day and you found comfort with Bucky. Bucky turned his face slightly towards yours, kissing the side of your temple and you felt butterflies in your stomach. Your mind told you to shift away, to not let him get too close, but you found yourself turning your head towards Bucky and he leaned forward to kiss you gently.
After a moment you broke away, emotion taking over you. “I’m sorry, Bucky, I - I can’t do this,” you said, resting your forehead against his.
“Why not?” Bucky whispered, looking into your eyes.
Because I’ll hurt you.
I’ll disappoint you.
I’ll drive you away and I can’t lose the best thing that’s happened to me.
You sighed, standing up and moving away from Bucky. You couldn’t say those things to him out loud. Not without the entire story. And you weren’t ready to share all of that with him.
Bucky stood up with you, afraid he had just ruined the friendship or whatever relationship he had with you. “Y/n, wait, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
You had already left the room and couldn’t really hear him over the sound of your thoughts.
This wasn’t supposed to happen
I wasn’t supposed to let this happen
How could I be so stupid?
You were feeling tears in your eyes and Bucky followed you, afraid of what he did. Your breathing was picking up and you had started mumbling some of these things to yourself.
“Y/n, what’s happening, what did I do?”
You shook your head “You didn’t do anything, but I need you to leave, please,” you said, trying to hide your emotions. You hated being like this.
“I’m not going anywhere y/n, just tell me what’s wrong.”
“Get the fuck out of here Bucky! I don’t want your help!” you snapped suddenly, Bucky looking taken aback before your eyes widened.
You shook your head and started crying harder, stumbling over your words. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like that, I didn’t mean to yell, I’m so sorry Bucky please don’t leave I'm so sorry.”
Bucky came forward and hugged you gently and you cried into his shirt. He whispered comforting words into your ear as you tried to breathe, embarrassed at how vulnerable you were being.
Bucky kept his breathing slow and even, trying to get you to match him. He had no idea what was happening but he knew he needed you to calm down before he asked. Whatever it was had to be something deep, and you weren’t in the space to talk about it right now.
He brought you over to sit on the corner of your bed, still hugging you as you cried. You were mumbling out apology after apology but Bucky wasn’t having any of it. He kept hugging you, telling you that he wasn’t going anywhere and that you were safe. He had never seen you so upset, or upset at all to begin with.
After you had calmed down a bit, Bucky asked you again what had happened. You shook your head, not knowing what to say.
“I’ve opened up about so many things to you, right?” he pulled back to look at you.
You nodded slightly.
“And you’ve never judged me for any of it.”
You shook your head this time.
“Then why can’t you let me do the same for you?”
You took a deep breath, fiddling with your hands. “I don’t wanna hurt you,” you said, not meeting his eyes.
Bucky drew his eyebrows together, still confused. “Y/n, you’ve been the nicest person I’ve ever met. How would you hurt me?”
You were already shaking your head. “No, see, that’s what’s gonna happen. I’m gonna be nice and sweet and...and I’m gonna fall in love with you, and you’re gonna fall in love with me. A-and then I’m gonna let you down over and over again and snap at you for things that aren’t your fault and...and you’ll get sick of it and leave and I’m going to hate myself for it, okay?”
“Hey, hey, slow down,” Bucky held your shoulders as they started shaking. You brought a hand to cover your mouth, Bucky hushing you again. “What are you talking about? Where is this coming from?”
You took a shaky breath as you ran a hand over your face. “I’m just like her, Bucky. I told myself I would never let myself be like her…”
“Like who?” Bucky asked, blood already boiling at who made you feel like this.
You weren’t supposed to think about her.
You promised yourself.
“Y/n, stay with me here,” he said, guiding your face back to look at him. “Who?”
Bucky looked at you for a moment. “What?”
“You know, mothers bring you into the world. They say a mother knows when something is wrong with their kid, that babies are put on their mother’s chest because the skin-to-skin contact starts the bonding process. They’re supposed to protect you, and love you, and take care of you. But then you start to get older and it’s your fault that you were born when you didn’t ask, or your dad left and it’s your fault before you even knew he was gone. All I wanted was to be told what to do and all she would do is tell me what I did wrong. I can’t be like her and the older I get the more scared I am that I’m going to hurt everyone the way that she hurt my father and me.”
You had started crying again as Bucky looked at you, both broken-hearted and furious that someone would make you feel this way. Not to mention it was your own mother.
You took another shaky breath. “I thought the world of her when I was younger. And she barely even gave me the time of day. I keep telling myself that I’m not what she thought of me, but what if I am?” you shook your head again. “And I am so scared that I’m just like her.”
“Y/n, look at me, I need you to look at me when I say this, okay?” he cupped your face with both hands, wiping away your tears with the pads of his thumbs as he looked into your eyes. “You are nothing like your mother.”
You let out a small sob. “You don’t know her.”
“I don’t need to,” he said firmly. “You are kind and gentle. You work hard and you make sure that everyone is taken care of before you even consider yourself. You aren’t going to scare me away or hurt me.” He wiped fresh tears from your eyes. “You are your own person, your mother has no say in who you get to be. Who you are. You are not your mother, and you never will be.” he said, still holding your gaze.
You held his gaze a little longer, knowing he believed what he was saying. You didn’t, not quite yet, but maybe if he believed in you, you could too. You nodded slightly, giving him the smallest of smiles. “Thank you.”
Bucky returned the small smile. “You know I love you, right?”
“I love you too,” you said, smiling.
You meant it, and you knew he did too. And maybe one day, you would love who you’d become too.
tags: @babydaddy-buckybarnes @buckys-blue-eyes @buckys2thicc @broadwaybabe18 @peggycarter-steverogers @im-sick-of-failing @barnesplums @bucks-bunny @mardema @abitgryffindorky @freigeistundanderes @thatfangirl42 @strawberrimae @sup--ernova
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A Song Unknown- JTK: ch 2
note: Happy Wednesday children! I had wrote this and changed it around a bit so hopefully there aren't too many errors. But anyway like always: REQUESTS AND ASKS ARE OPEN:)
also if you want to be added to a tag list (for either this series, the baby series, or an imagines) let me know. I'll probably create a little tag list sheet thing to fill out within the next couple days.
warnings: cursing (I think that's it)
Jake was up early the next morning, sitting in his backyard, strumming his ukulele absent minded. Josh stood in the kitchen, feeling the nervousness radiating off of his twin brother, not being able to quiet place what was going on with him. Karen was busy taking out the cinnamon rolls from the oven.
"How was last night?" Karen asked, placing another pan of vegan cinnamon rolls in the oven.
"Great," Josh smiled, "I'll always love playing for the hometown crowds."
"Julie said you guys stopped over last night," Karen said, "I'm happy you guys saw Y/N. I invited her over for breakfast, I haven't seen that girl in ages."
"She's the same but different all together. There's just something about her." Josh said, sipping on his cup of coffee.
"Have you met TJ? He's the sweetest little boy. She brought him back for Christmas last year when you guys were in LA for a recording session." Karen said, "It was so nice to have a child around for the holidays."
"No, We didn't, or at least I didn't," Josh said as Sam sauntered in, looking like the kiss of death, "This is why we should have never let you two start a drinking game."
"Shush it," Sam said and Karen laughed, setting a cup of coffee in front of the lanky boy. He looked up and smiled at his mom as he began to put cream and sugar in the cup.
Josh set out to the back yard, eyeing his twin. He could hear him mumbling some words and writing them down. Jake was gifted in songwriting, which actually surprised his twin. Josh remembered the panic that was set in Jake as he waited last minute to write papers in high school.
"I like that," Josh said sitting down in a chair next to him, "Got a name?"
"Not yet," Jake said sitting the ukulele down next to him.
"You came home late,"
"We all did." Jake deadpanned.
"Later than the rest of us," Josh rolled his eyes, "You two. . . "
"Nothing happened. Her uh. . . TJ. . . he woke up had a nightmare and so she put him in her bed." Jake said, "He's three, and has brown eyes and brown curly hair."
Josh squinted his eyes and looked at his brother, "What does that have to do with anything?"
"He was born in March," Jake said.
"Again, what does that- No. . . you two? You think. . . did you. . ."
"I haven't even asked." Jake said, "I was going to last night but stopped myself. She had driven from Nashville all the way here with a three year old, I'm guessing it was going to be hard to get him to sleep. And how the fuck do I ask her that? Just show up on her door step and say 'hey, I think your kid is my kid?' That sounds kinda douchebaggy if you ask me,"
"You're right, it does," Josh said, "Do you have a plan then?"
"Wait it out," Jake said, "If she's the same girl that I remember, the guilt will eat her alive, and she'll tell the truth if he's my kid eventually,"
"Do you wish he is?"
Jake froze, "I-I don't know. I don't know if I'm playing shit in my mind because I'm not really over her, or because I strongly believe TJ is my son,"
Josh nodded and looked at his brother. They sat in silence as the back door opened and Karen called out to them to come inside for breakfast. Jake stood up, taking a deep breath as he was about to face Y/N. Josh went in before his twin and hugged Y/N again. Jake's eyes fell on the little boy in Sam's lap, who was eating away on a cinnamon roll.
"So this is TJ," Josh said walking over and standing next to his younger brother, "Well damn Y/N, you really said copy paste."
Y/N laughed and looked at her sone who's eyes were now big from the sugar he was ingesting, "I'm glad someone sees it. My mom swears up and down he's got his father's looks," Y/N looked down at her hands.
Jake sat down at the table across from TJ and Sam, not taking his eyes off of him. TJ was a cute kid, and Jake could see what Josh meant when he said 'copy paste'. The little boy really did look just like Y/N, from the crease in his eyebrows to the way his nose curved slightly to the right. Y/N sat down next to TJ, ruffling the mess of curls on his head before kissing his forehead.
"What's on your pajamas, TJ?" Jake asked.
"Chase!" TJ yelled with a bright smile.
"Oh my gosh really?!" Josh said in excitement. TJ giggled and fell into a conversation with Josh. Y/N smiled at how easy Josh got along with the toddler.
Jake pushed himself up from the table after he was done eating and walked over to Y/N, "Walk with me?" He whispered. The girl nodded her head and stood up following Jake, not before warning the boys to keep TJ out of trouble.
Jake waited for Y/N outside, as she stepped out into the brisk June air. It was still a tad chilly in the morning, and Y/N threw on one of Jake's sweatshirts before following him down the street. The two walked to the closest park and over to the swings. Y/N sat down and then Jake with a sigh.
"Been awhile," Y/N said, kicking her feet back and forth lightly. The park was deserted at this hour except the two of them.
"It has," Jake answered. It had been nearly 3 years since they had seen each other, "He a good kid?" Jake asked kicking the rocks under his shoes.
"The best." Y/N answered and pulled her phone out, pulling up her photos and handing the phone to him. Jake swiped through the pictures of him at swim lessons, or piano lessons, or dance class, or running around with the other 3 year olds on his soccer team, "I couldn't have asked for a better child."
"Was he a good baby? I remember people always asking my mom that question with Sam and Ronnie." Jake said.
"My pregnancy itself was rough, I had morning sickness the whole nine months. And morning sickness is such a bullshit term, cause it was all day. The birth was. . ." Y/N sighed and Jake took her hand, "The cord got wrapped around his neck, and I threw a clot. They rushed me into a c-section, and then rushed us both off, me to the ICU and him to the NICU. I didn't get to hold him for 2 weeks. I thought I was gonna go crazy just sitting there and looking at him through a plastic box."
"I can only imagine, you aren't the most patient person ever," Jake said and Y/N faked hurt.
"Me? Impatient?" Y/N said with her hand over her heart.
Jake laughed and rolled her eyes, "What does TJ stand for?"
"O-oh h-he's named after his father. . . uh, Taylor," Y/N stuttered.
"Taylor? You got with a man named Taylor?" Jake asked, his eyes squinting at her.
"Yeah," Y/N said strongly, "He's a good dad. Cares a lot for TJ,"
Jake shook his head and looked down at his feet. He wasn't sure what he was feeling, if he was upset that Y/N had loved someone else besides him or TJ wasn't his. His mind was drowning in confusion, "That's good. I'm glad he's got a good family."
"Yeah, we should probably get back," Y/N said with a tight lipped smile, "He doesn't need to be stuffed up with anymore sugar than the boys have already given him."
Jake chuckled and stood up from the swing. He held his hand out to her, and she took it, standing up with him. They walked, hand in hand, back to the Kiszka house. Small talk filled the silence, and they two of them just felt natural. Everything seemed to settle back into place around them. Jake's heart felt like it was at home in her small hands.
"Hey, what did your mom mean when she said she knew everything that happened in the house?" Jake asked Y/N as they got to the front door.
"You. . . uh, left your underwear, after that night," Y/N said turning red. Jake looked at her confused and then remembered.
"I basically tore your whole bedroom apart looking for them," Jake said his mouth falling open, "I convinced myself I had just free balled it and didn't have any. Oh my god, that's embarrassing,"
"It really wasn't that bad. . . Spiderman," Y/N laughed and Jake's face turned red at the mention of the comic book character that was printed on said particular underwear. Y/N opened the door and went in quickly to the house, that was filled with the giggles of a 3 year old boy. The boys had retreated down to the basement, where Y/N could hear the familiar banging of Danny's drum set.
Y/N walked down stairs to see TJ completely mesmerized by the way Danny and Sam were playing. He sat on Josh's lap, as Josh was writing down some lyrics to a song. Jake came up behind the girl and touched her hip.
"If you want, I can show you what's on my underwear now," Jake whispered in her ear and Y/N went flush.
"Don't be whispering dirty things in her ear, Jacob!" Sam scolded him, "Y/N, since you claim to have magical ears, can you help me with this?"
Y/N went over to Sam who was sitting at the piano. She stood over his shoulder as he started playing a melody. The girl closed her eyes, to hear and feel what he was playing. Jake looked at her in wonder, wishing he could see the gears turning in her mind as she moving her fingers in the air like she was playing the piano. He had seen her do this plenty of times, it was her way of writing and composing music. When Sam was done with what he had written, he moved off the piano bench so Y/N could have a chance.
Her fingers were like magic, as they played what Sam had just played, tacking on her own melody, changing it ever so slightly to make it fit. Jake sat down on the couch next to his twin. He grabbed a pen and a napkin and wrote down the words that came to his mind. When Y/N stopped playing, she looked at Sam sheepishly.
"That sound okay?"
"Did it sound okay? That was absolutely beautiful!" Sam said and Y/N smiled, "Play it again, I'm gonna record it."
Josh leaned over and looked what his twin had wrote down, squinting slightly, "Your mind is a stream of colors?"
"Hey!" Jake said, snatching his napkin away, "It's nothing,"
"No, I like it," Josh said and followed his twins eyesight over to the girl at the piano, "If you don't tell her how you feel, I'm going to. I'm tired of your pining love songs,"
"What do you mean?" Jake said looking at his brother.
"Mountain of the Sun? it's literally her love letter to you and vice versa. And don't get me started on You're The One-"
"Okay, okay, shut up," Jake said and went back to watching Y/N and Sam mess around on the piano. TJ wiggled off of Josh's lap and over to his mother. Sam quickly picked him up and wedged him in between him and Y/N. TJ looked at his mother in awe as she played Beethovens 5th.
"TJ play?" Sam asked and Y/N nodded removing her hands, "Show us what you got, kid!"
"Your first tryout, buddy, if you're good enough we might replace Sam with you," Jake said and Sam shot him a glare. TJ giggled while his little fingers found the right keys. Y/N watched as he pressed one and listened, trying to find the right key to start on.
"Middle C," He mumbled as he pressed the key down, "Mid E?" TJ looked up at Sam, his brown eyes wide.
"Yep," Sam nodded and TJ looked back down. He slowly started playing the treble line to Cannon D. Y/N smiled and ruffled his hair as he poked at the keys.
"That's actually really impressive, what have you been teaching him?" Jake said, now over by the piano. He was in awe by how talented the child was at a young age, which reminded him a lot of Y/N, "Perfect hearing?"
"I think so," Y/N said, "I asked his piano teacher, and she just said he is eager to learn. She hasn't really been able to build on it yet, mainly cause he doesn't like to sit still long enough,"
"Hey Y/N, does TJ have-" Danny started but was quickly cut off my the girl.
"No, Daniel, you will not be purchasing a drum set for my child," Y/N said.
"No, Joshua, you will not be purchasing a tambourine for him either," Y/N also said.
Jake snickered and put his hands on Y/N's shoulders, they watched as Sam took over playing for TJ. Jake wanted so bad to ask Y/N to ask if he was possibly TJ's father. And then it dawned on him, what if she didn't know. What if she believes he is this Taylor guys son? Jake didn't want to embarrass her, so he pushed the thought out of his mind and enjoyed being in the moment with Y/N.
They all spent hours down in the basement. Y/N and TJ moved to the couch to watch the boys mess around and try to put things together for a song. Josh had explained they are working on their next album. Josh had also begged Y/N to come with them on their writing trip.
"I can't just leave Josh, there's more to than just myself," Y/N said looking at TJ who was curled up on the couch, asleep.
"He can come with!" Josh said, eyes wide.
"We both know that's not ideal for a 3 year old to be," Y/N said matter a factly. Her hands were slowly patting TJ's back as small snores left his lips.
Once TJ woke up, Josh came up with a grand idea of going swimming at the Parker house. TJ was all for going swimming with his "uncles". Y/N got him dressed in his paw patrol swim trunks and secured his life jacket, before he went running in and belly flopping into the pool. Julie had invited the boys over for dinner, and was busy prepping things in the kitchen.
"Mom, did you get the vegan burgers?" Y/N asked looking in the fridge as Julie was cutting some peppers up.
"Yes, top shelf," Julie said, "How are things going with him?"
Y/N sighed and looked down at the burgers in her hand, "Well, I guess,"
"Y/N. . . "
"I didn't do it!" Y/N said, and Julie shook her head setting the knife in her hand down, "Mom, I feel so fucking guilty. It's eating me alive every day that I look at him. He'll hate me, I can't tell him and lose my best friend. I can't lose any of them!" Tears were starting to form in Y/N's eyes.
"The longer you keep this from him, the more anger and resentment he will have against you," Julie said, "He's not going to hate you forever, but he's going to be upset. It's life changing news."
"He's going to want things I'm not ready to give him. What if he wants to take TJ? Or do the whole house bullshit? I can't live without TJ, and there's Tayler,"
"Oh, I forgot about him," Julie said waving off her daughter.
Tayler Carmichael was an up and coming rapper, that Y/N had met at the recording studio one day. She had literally ran into him, spilling coffee on his faux leather and apologizing profusely. Tayler said that she can repay him with a date, and that lunch at some Greek restaurant was over 7 months ago. Tayler's career wasn't really taking off, so he basically had to move himself into Y/N's house. TJ didn't mind, liking having someone to play Mario Cart with, but Y/N sometimes found Tayler too childish. And not to mention, she strongly disliked his music.
"You need to tell him, preferably before you go back to Nashville," Julie said, pointing her knife at her daughter.
"Okay, okay, put the knife down," Y/N said putting her hands up in defense. Julie chuckled and handed her a bowl of watermelon to go take to the boys in the pool.
Y/N turned on her feet and walked outside only for a wet three year old to run up and hug her tightly. She grunted at his weight hitting her legs and picked him up. She kissed his cheek before blowing a raspberry against his sun kissed skin.
"Did Uncle Sam put sunscreen on you?" She said moving his hair out of his face.
"Yes, I did." Sam said, "Tell her what we practiced TJ,"
"Uncy Sammy is the best," TJ whispered and Sam looked around proud of himself, "But he smells,"
"Hey!" Sam said and looked over at Josh and Danny laughing, "You teach him that?"
"Possibly," Danny said. Y/N laughed and set her son down, watching as he ran over and jumped straight into Danny's arms, "He said he wants to grow his hair out too."
"Like Uncle Danny!" TJ smiled and threw his arms around his neck.
"Okay, the hair is fine, but if I come home and you guys are showing him how to light a poster cut out of Florida Georgia Line with hairspray and a lighter, I'm going to have to have a serious conversation," Y/N said sitting down in a pool chair.
"You not getting in?" Jake asked looking at her.
"Eventually," Y/N said looking at the boys, "Don't want to steal the show. Besides I uh. . . have the c-section scar. It's kinda ugly," Y/N now felt self conscious without the encouragement from alcohol in her system and the sun beating down on the earth.
"Impossible. Your body has always been a work out art," Jake said and Y/N felt heat rising in her body, "Come on, if you can swim with Sam drunk at 2 AM, you can swim with me sober."
Y/N smiled and stripped off her shorts and t-shirt before walking over to the stairs and slowly getting into the pool, shuddering at the cold water. TJ swam over to her with the help of Josh and his life jacket, and grabbed his mom's hands.
"Showing them how you can swim?" Y/N said helping him stand on the stairs.
"Yes!" TJ smiled and put his face in the water before lifting it out, "They let me jump in the deep pool, but they caught me!"
"No way!" Y/N smiled and Jake waded over to them, "You swim with Jake too?"
"Yeah!" TJ smiled brightly and lunged at Jake who caught him quickly, "To the deep end!"
Y/N smiled watching as Jake swam into the deep end with TJ on his back, and watched as he would catch him as he jumped in. She finally saw what her mom had been saying for 3 years now. It surprised her that no one had asked about TJ's dad or said how much he looks like him. She was actually shocked that Josh said TJ looked like her. Every time she glanced at TJ, she always saw the carbon copy of him. From the eyebrows, to his nose, TJ was his dad's twin.
Y/N swallowed her thoughts and swam into the deep end with her son. TJ squirted the water gun right in Sam's face, making him dramatically flop down in the water and go under. The little boy's giggle and smile were contagious, everyone couldn't help but smile. Y/N let him swim for a little bit longer, before pulling the sun-kissed boy out of the water and drying him off for a nap.
"Need help?" Jake asked as she took TJ's life jacket off.
"Yeah, Actually," Y/N said drying off TJ's face lightly, "There should be some snack size packages of crackers in the pantry, and he should have a sippy cup of milk in the fridge, can you grab that? I'm gonna take him upstairs to change and get ready for a nap."
"Yeah, I'll meet you up there," Jake said, put stopped when he heard TJ ask-
"Can Jake read me a book?"
"I'm sure that he can, buddy. Let's go get changed into some jammies, and he'll bring your snack upstairs and he can read to you," Y/N said and Jake couldn't help the smile that arose on his cheeks before walking into the house.
Y/N followed behind him, holding TJ on her hip as she took him upstairs. She let him pick out his pajamas, he chose the Iron Man ones he had got for Christmas. Y/N got him dressed and combed his hair as Jake came up with his snack. TJ grabbed the first book for Y/N to read, 'GoodNight, Tractor.' TJ sat on her lap, and laid his back against her chest. Jake sat on the boys bed and watched as his brown eyes got heavier and heavier as Y/N read the book and rocked him slowly. When she finished the book, she stood up with him in his arms, and laid him on his bed.
"What book should Jake read?"
"Stellaluna," TJ whispered. Jake found the book on the dresser in the room and picked it up. The tattered cover and opened the cover page. His breath caught in his throat seeing the two hand-written notes in it.
'For Jake and Josh, Merry Christmas- love mommy and daddy'
'For TJ, my Jake loved this book too, Merry Christmas- love Grandma and Grandpa Kiskza'
Y/N adverted her eyes and let out a shaky breath. Jake cleared his throat, flipping the pages and began reading. Y/N rubbed TJ's back as he fell asleep for his nap. Jake finished the book and placed it back on the dresser as Y/N kissed TJ's head and tucked him. They both walked out of the room and shut the door quietly. Jake stood across the hall from Y/N and looked her up and down. Her face was unreadable, and the words Jake wanted to ask where on the tip of his tongue. Jake opened his mouth to say something when he was cut off by Y/N's phone. Y/N looked at Jake, before pulling her phone out of her pocket. She looked down at the lock screened and frowned.
'Tayler <3. . .'
Jake didn't say anything as she stepped away from him and down the hall to her room. Jake watched her go and the door close. His mind was swimming with too many things. First, how did his parents know about TJ and not him? Two, he was still in love with Y/N Parker. And three, TJ was his child.
@kiszkawagnerwhore @mgk777 @kgllmre @trashx678 @jakekiszkasguitarpick
TW: Panic attack
On Monday, he brought home a girl to screw and kept the entire house up with her screaming his name. On Tuesday, he smoked a bowl indoors and turned the entire house into one big hotbox. You couldn’t focus with the smell of weed permeating every surface so you spent the night on Uraraka’s dorm room floor (which her roommate was less than thrilled with). On Wednesday, he invited a couple friends over to drink and they kept you up until three in the morning with their lack of voice volume control.
Now it was Thursday. You had an hour before your interview and you were standing outside the bathroom in nothing but your robe. The bathroom door was locked and the loud pattering of water hitting the bottom of the tub could be heard from where you stood.
You rapped on the door. “Dabi? Dabi hurry up.” You checked the time on your phone again. “I have my interview in an hour and I need to take a shower and the other bathroom is occupied.”
There was no response from the other side.
You knocked on the door again, louder this time. “Dabi, hurry up!”
Spinner walked by and side-eyed you but didn’t say anything.
You leaned your head against the doorframe. “I swear to God, if you don’t get out of the shower in five seconds, I’ll--”
As soon as you said that, the door opened and the steam made its way out of the room before dissipating in the air. You took a step back and looked up at Dabi. He seemed to be staring you down. Even though he looked like he wanted to say something, he remained silent and began walking away.
It wasn’t until you were about to push the door open that he piped up. “I wouldn’t if I were you. Someone’s still in there.”
Your mouth hung open as he walked back to his room in nothing but a towel hugging tight against his ass. How could he do that to you? He knew about your interview, he knew you were stressed, and if you had to guess, he knew that you could hear his Monday night activities from the other side of the wall.
It took another couple minutes, but the other person finally came out of the bathroom. She was a tall woman with gorgeous sun-kissed skin and long dark hair . She looked at you with big brown eyes and smiled a sort of pitying smile. “Sorry about that,” her voice rang and she tightened the towel around her chest.
You nodded and pushed your way into the room.
“Oh,” she piped up. “Sorry, there’s no more hot water.”
As she walked away, your face fell and you could feel the last of your willpower begin to crumble as well. You couldn’t take any more. This was the final straw.
Dabi was sitting on the couch, cigarette between his lips and phone in his hand, when Shigaraki approached him.
“What the hell is wrong with you,” the leader of the house said.
Dabi looked up at him with lazy eyes and blew smoke out into his face.
Shigaraki took the cigarette from his lips and threw it on the hardwood floor, smashing it out with his steel toed boot.
“What the fuck man?”
“What the fuck, Dabi?” Shigaraki mocked back. “Any idea why our youngest roommate came to me right before her interview saying she needs to move out?”
Dabi looked down at his feet. Of course you’d fucking blab to Shigaraki about how he’s been treating you.
“You’ve been treating her like shit for the last few weeks. Fuck it, not just her. It’s all of us.” Shigaraki stared him down.
Dabi narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean? I’m not being a dick to anyone else in the house.”
“Oh cut the crap. You bring home a girl to fuck loudly into the night knowing that your room is next to (Y/n)’s but we could all hear it.” He shuddered at the memory. “And then you smoked up the whole house so she’d leave but we all had to deal with it too. Then you brought those frat guys over and none of us could sleep last night because they were screaming and drinking all our booze and raiding our fridge.”
Dabi just scoffed. “Are you done monologuing? It’s not like I did anything to you today.”
“Watching (Y/n) beg for you to open the bathroom door while she’s wearing nothing but a bathrobe isn’t a form of entertainment, Dabi!” he yelled. “It’s pitiful.”
Dabi took out another cigarette and lit it. If he was going to have this conversation he needed something to get him through it. “Okay maybe I went too far with that last one.”
“Why are you being such a dick to her?”
Dabi stiffened his muscles. He couldn’t let it all come out. He didn’t want to let it all come out. And he sure as hell didn’t want Shigaraki to be the person he let it all come out to. So he thought up the best bullshit excuse he could think of. “It’s just, she’s here all the time. And she’s in Big Sis Mags’ room and... she’s not her, you know?”
“Bullshit,” Shigaraki spat. “You never cared about Big Sis Magne and that sure as hell isn’t the reason you’re acting like a dick.”
“She’s not like us, okay?” Dabi spat at him. He sucked deep onto his cigarette and weaved a hand through his hair. His leg bounced up and down at a rapid pace. Here goes everything. “She’s not like us. She’s a goody two-shoes, the kind of girl I made fun of in high school. She hasn’t struggled the way we have. She hasn’t lived through real life like we have. She doesn’t belong with people like us, okay?”
Shigaraki waited for a few moments to pass. A sneer was painted across his worn out features. “Are you done monologuing?” His tone left a sour feeling in Dabi’s stomach. “Are you a fucking idiot?”
Dabi stayed silent.
“Why do you think this job interview is so important to her? She struggles, more than you probably ever will. She doesn’t have the luxury of having someone else pay her full tuition for her. So what if you hate your dad, at least he’s giving you something.”
Suddenly, Dabi felt as though he’d been punched in the gut several times.
“And yeah she’s smart but so is Spinner. And she’s sweet but so is Jin. And just because you,” Shigaraki jabbed his chest, “would have made fun of her in high school doesn’t mean you have the right to treat her like shit now. So go and fucking apologize before she moves out for good.”
Once he finished speaking, Shigaraki stalked away, leaving Dabi alone in the living room. He didn’t smoke the final few drags of his cigarette, instead letting the ash fall into a pile on his lap.
You were exhausted by the time you got home. You switched your shift around, which was nice, but after your interview, all you wanted to do was curl up in bed and watch Vine compilations.
You were also exhausted from the thought of going into your own home. You didn’t want to see Dabi. You didn’t want him to give you another reason to move out. You thought back to your conversation with Uraraka and Midoriya. You loved your roommates and the thought of leaving them was scary. But at the same time, seeing Dabi every day was torture.
You couldn’t understand how he could flip like a switch the way he did. He went from being someone you considered a close friend to a complete asshole. You didn’t know what you had done wrong or what you could do to make him your friend again, but at the same time you weren’t sure if you wanted to be friends with someone who treats you the way he has for the last few weeks.
What you hated the most about living with Dabi, though, was the way that your heart would still skip a beat every time you’d be in the same room as him. Anyone who glances at him or even hears his voice would say that he’s hot. That’s undeniable. But as the two of you began to grow closer, it was hard for you to deny the swelling feelings you had developed for your roommate.
There was something so dangerous and sexy about his rebellious life that made you want to learn more about him, about his tattoos and piercings, about his life. And you have also seen the sweet side of Dabi. The side that offered you a coping mechanism when work had you down and that brought you coffee after having a panic attack and fainting.
As much as you hated the person who brought someone home to loudly fuck into the night, you missed the person you knew as your friend and wanted that person to become something more.
After pushing the sticky lock open and trudging upstairs, you looked around at your home. It was warm, but felt different from what you knew. You unbuttoned your coat but left it hanging open.
Jin and Shigaraki were sitting at the round table in the kitchen. When you walked in, Jin smiled at you and greeted you with an enthusiastic, “how did it go?”
You looked down at the floor as you walked over and sat in the third and final chair around the table. “I don’t think I’m gonna get in.”
Shigaraki looked up and narrowed his eyes, but you were too wrapped up in your thoughts to notice.
“What do you mean?” Jin asked. “You prepared so hard for this interview.”
“I know but it wasn’t anything like what I was expecting.” Your voice began to break as you relayed what happened. “The interviewer only asked four questions, none of which were on my note cards, and I stumbled over at least half of them.”
As you thought more and more about how the interview went, your body began to tremble.
The two men in front of you watched as tears fell from your eyes, neither of them knowing what to do. While everyone in the house was close with one another, no one except Toga was really equipped to deal with tears--and she was not planning on returning home until later that night.
“I can’t continue living like this,” you let out. “I can’t continue working two jobs. It’s agonizing, and I’m losing sleep, and my grades are dropping.” Your breathing became more rapid and your eyes reddened. “I don’t know what to do.”
Jin and Shigaraki looked back and forth between you and each other. Jin tried calming you down by shushing you like you would a fussy baby, but of course that would never work in any situation. Shigaraki attempted to call Toga, but after three rings it went to voicemail.
Your body was shaking as you managed to get in your head about your future and your ability to hold a job and whether or not you would be able to stay in school if your grades were to fall even further. You had shed your coat as your body had become too overheated with it on, but now you were itching at your shirt. It all needed to go but at the same time you felt too exposed in front of your roommates; your friends.
“(Y/n), you need to calm down.” Shigaraki held his hand out but he froze. It was as if he thought that if he touched you, you would combust.
“I can’t,” you let out. And then you could only let out those words in staggered breaths. “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.”
It wasn’t until you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around you that you finally felt safe enough to let out a sob. The delicate dam that had been tested all week was finally breaking open, and you squeezed the arms that wrapped around you as you cried.
“Shh,” Dabi’s voice cooed as he stroked his hand over your head. “It’s okay. Let it all out.”
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lost at sea
damiano david x non-specified!reader
requested: reader is stressed about work, and damiano comforts them
synopsis: when a catastrophe at work upends your day, there’s only one person who can help.
warnings: descriptions of a panic attack, imagery of drowning, themes of stress, swearing, my terrible attempts at roman dialect/italian in general
word count: 1.6k
a/n: i’m not very good at writing this sort of thing, but i did my best and i hope that it will suffice! reblogs are very much appeciated xx
These days, it was as though you did nothing but work.
The profession of journalism was a stressful one. There were always deadlines to be met, stories to be run, late nights and early mornings to be worked, to ensure that your newspaper was the one that reported on whatever event as the first newspaper. You were, after all, its senior editor, and therefore felt the most responsibility where the paper was involved.
It was Thursday night, and looking over at the clock hung on the wall across from your office desk, you were dismayed to discover that it was already a quarter past midnight. Yet another work day extended beyond the abyss of the twelfth hour, and you were still not finished.
You wondered vaguely if anyone was missing you yet, but you had no missed calls or unread texts. Then again, maybe your partner was busy too.
Damiano had what you would consider perhaps the most stressful job in the world. As the singer of an up-and-coming band, he was constantly trapped beneath the watchful eyes of not only the media, but of his adoring fans too, who seemed to hang on his every word. It was natural, though, that he was so loved, because his shy charm was what had drawn you to him in the first place.
With a sigh, you shuffled the documents in front of you, needing some form of organisation to keep you going as you yawned.
A single piece of paper fluttered to the ground, and with a sigh, you knelt to the ground to pick it up.
And then the blood rushed from your head.
You knew you’d forgotten something.
You had drafted, written, and sent off to print a story on a recent human rights court case from London, and had forgotten to include the game-changing quote from this last source — the private interview that you had scored with the leading defence attorney. An interview only you had succeeded in obtaining, and you had left it out of your story.
You would have to redraft the entire story to shape it around the attorney’s quote, and then rewrite it — but you’d already fucking sent it off to print. To make matters worse, your printing supplier had closed up shop at midnight. They would open again in four hours time, but there was no way you would be able to redo the story by then and cancel the previous printing and order the next one and have it all sorted by four o’clock in the morning.
You were exhausted to the point of being in tears, and there was just no way — no way at all. You’d spoiled the best thing you’d ever written, the most interesting story you’d ever had the chance to write, and it was garbage. A flaming pile of rubbish because you’d fucking ruined it.
And all of a sudden you couldn’t breathe.
You needed to get out of your office.
You’d opened the window hours ago, but the night was windless and the air had remained stuffy. You were running on a combination of caffeine and nervous energy, and your hands were growing shakier by the minute.
The highlighter you’d been using fell from your grip as you stood up, knocking your chair to the ground in your hurry.
Out, out, out, get out. The room was too small, the walls were up against you, and you couldn’t breathe.
But your body was a cage, and even out in the joint offices, by the kitchenette and the big, wide windows, with the city skyline glittering beyond, you felt no respite from the feeling of drowning.
You were lost at sea, and you were drowning.
Over and over again, that self-destructive thought — I’ve ruined it I’ve ruined it I’ve ruined it I can’t fix it — pulled you down further, deeper, into the abyss, and you were gasping for air.
You were crying now, and you couldn’t stop, couldn’t even wipe your tears away for your shaking hands, your shaky breaths.
You were sinking to the ground by the nearest desk, your chest contracting, your skin cold and clammy, and then a door slammed, and someone was shouting your name.
You were dimly aware of Damiano’s fingers curling around your own, as he knelt beside you. He didn’t get in your face, but he also didn’t shy away, unfrightened by the panic which wracked your body.
“What —” you heaved for air, “I can’t — I can’t breathe, Damiano—”
Dimly, you felt his hand touch your hair. “You’re having a panic attack, but it’s okay. I’m here, okay? Take a breath, deep. I’ll do it with you.”
“But I can’t —”
“Yes,” he said firmly, “you can.”
You turned your head to find him gazing at you, all soft eyes and even breaths, and there was a calmness in just looking at him.
“You’re going to be alright. This will be over soon, and then you can tell me, amore, what’s going on with you, yes?”
He was being so gentle, so kind, and the ghost of a smile touched his lips when you nodded in response to his askance, so much that you almost nodded again, just to see him smile fully.
But your vision still blurred at the edges — green and purple and black — and you remembered. Remembered the story, your failure, your fault, and you gasped as the intake of air constricted your lungs.
“You’re okay, I’ve got you. Just breathe with me.”
His thumb traced a gentle line at the base of your palm, and then he began to count slowly. Holding one of your hands, he took your other hand and placed it over his heart. It was a strangely grounding gesture, and really, something you never would have thought of.
By the time he had been counting for a minute, the ocean which had tried to drown you cowered and slipped away, and Damiano was sitting on the floor completely, holding you to his chest.
His steady, calm heartbeat echoed in your ears, and you closed your eyes in relief.
You thought that he was humming now, running his fingers through your hair, his breathing soft, and he was there.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered.
“Per quello?” he murmured, drawing back slightly so as to meet your eyes.
“For this, for being so dramatic.”
Damiano chuckled softly. “You? Dramatic? I have never known you to be dramatic. That role is reserved for me, amore. Crazy rockstar, you know. We’re all insane.”
At this, you laughed.
“Ah,” Damiano smiled. “There’s my love.”
You cast your eyes downward with a slight smile of your own.
“Now what’s it that’s been bothering you so badly, hm?” He touched your neck gently. “Who am I to kill? Okay, maybe not. Unless you want me to. Victoria was talking about destroying an old guitar the other day. Might as well put it to good use.”
You rolled your eyes and turned in his grasp, so that you sat beside him, but Damiano shifted and guided you to the floor, letting you rest your head in his lap.
“Tell Damiano,” he said, in such a comical manner that you snorted, and for a moment could not remember what it was that had tipped you over the edge to begin with.
But then, of course, the whirring of the clock on the wall nearby reminded you.
You breathed sharply, but Damiano hummed.
“It’s okay. Tell me slowly.”
Taking a proper, deep breath, you related to him all of what had happened that night, from your early, busy start, to your discovery that what you thought was going to be your best story yet had become your very best disaster.
Damiano listened carefully, nodding and murmuring every now again, never once interrupting except to reiterate some detail or another.
“So,” you said, “I’m doomed.”
“No,” Damiano shook his head as you stared up at him. “Because you’ve forgotten one little detail, amore.”
He smiled that lovely smile of his, but there was something pitying in his eyes. “It’s not Thursday night, Friday morning. It’s Tuesday night, Wednesday morning, and you’ve scheduled the printing of your story for Friday. You have more than a day to fix it.”
Your eyes widened. Had you really forgotten what day it was? Had you been that tired, that out of sorts?
As though reading your mind, as he seemingly often did, Damiano reached for his phone and pressed the home button, the screen lighting up with the picture of you and him laughing by the seaside as the sun sank into the water. The date flashed above your heads.
It was indeed only Wednesday morning.
You were so relieved that you laughed, and threw your arms around him, and you could feel him laughing softly too.
“Just know,” he whispered, when your laughter had died away but he still sat holding you, “you’re brilliant, and even if it had been Friday morning, it wouldn’t have been the end of the world. I’d have run down to that supplier of yours at four in the morning and cancelled the print, and you’d have slept and rewritten the story later. I know your work is important to you, but the world would not end, nor think any less of you, if you ran that story on Monday instead of Friday.”
You could do nothing but hold him tighter and thank him quietly as fresh tears sprang to your eyes. There were no words to describe to him what he meant to you, and so you forwent them entirely.
But when he kissed your hair, you knew that he knew precisely what he was to you.
And what you were to him.
taglist: @tabi-toast, @hazypoppy, @aprilaady
aphrotitty - xli
↳ Don’t do anything stupid
↳↳ does something stupid
~~ pairing: OC x Leon S(exy) Kennedy.
~~ genre: fluff, a slice of life, angst, gore at some point, smut/suggestive themes
~~ word count: no
✠ = time skip
✠✠ = switching povs/characters
prev -> next
The forty-first time Leon saw her; it was Saturday, one final day of the year. Families were coming and going, the neighbourhood never seemed more alive. It was strange to think as Leon was never the type of man to really think about time, but ever since a certain Wednesday in August, time had gone by fast.
Not the type you’d panic at why is it going Sonic speed, but the kind where you stop in amusement and wonder, ‘Damn, time really flies like that blue hedgehog.’
It was Diane’s party tonight. Usually, New Year’s parties start around nine at night, but she has a big family, so the party starts around seven; which he didn’t mind since he knew with a specific South Korean girl, they’re bound to get there around nine anyways.
Not only does she take a while to get ready, but he sent her a good morning text around ten in the morning and she responded at three in the afternoon. Her duality with sleep intrigued him, yet it did make him curious as to why she had slept in.
Still, his need to tease her light-heartedly overtook the slight worry.
Leon was already done and ready by six, whistling a tune as he did the dishes to pass the time; but with her on his mind, he couldn’t help but wonder what was taking her so long.
Her hand shot out to grab onto her dresser when So Ah nearly slipped and her other hand tightened its grip on her towel. Water dripped from the lashes of her wide eyes as she took deep breaths to calm her fast-beating heart. Balancing herself, she made sure to really dry her feet the next time she skips out of the bathroom.
But she was late.
The party’s in an hour and she was butt naked. She didn’t even know what to wear. It was drizzling outside so she assumed it was going to be a cold night but Diane’s heating system is godsend. She concluded the gathering would be inside and away from the slow process of a long night’s rain.
With her internal, and sometimes vocal, analysis, So Ah began looking for something to wear. She ticked the heater up a few times then stood in front of her open wardrobe in her bra and panties with her hair up in the towel.
Denim a-line skirt with a black barely sheer long-sleeved shirt? No, the skirt is a bit too short for this type of weather.
How about a royal blue long-sleeved dress that reaches her knees? Hmm, too formal.
Okay, what do you think of black jeans, a grey sweater and a thick jacket? Eh, too casual and warm.
Then a light-bulb went on in her head; Leon did pick an attire for her – though indirectly. All she did was show him a skirt or a shirt and he’d put them together, hum, and then nod.
She admired the outfit in her mirror, doing a little twirl for her giddy sake.
It was a plain white short-sleeved shirt with a small cute printed cactus on the right chest side tucked into a light blue skirt overall that Leon had personally picked, which surprised her, and finally, black tights, black Lita boots with a bow on the side.
Checking the time, she nearly tripped over her feet again on her way to her vanity’s desk; “Shit!”
It was thirty past seven.
Nothing too eventful happened while So Ah was doing her makeup, but it did take her around forty minutes to be done; leaving only her hair to be styled.
Then her phone rang just as she was heading out to her bathroom where her hairdryer was. She checked the caller and her cheeks blushed instinctively at the ID. She tapped on answer and went to the bathroom to prepare.
“Hi, I’m almost done.”
Leon laughed on the other end, causing her stomach to do gymnastic back-flips, “Took the words right out of my mouth.”
“Are you not done too?” She asked in a hurried but hopeful tone, pulling out the hairdryer and brush.
“No, I’ve been ready to head out since six.”
“What?! Why didn’t you tell me?!”
“I thought I’d be a gentleman for waiting for you.”
She could just imagine his signature smirk and that alone made her heart skip a beat.
“You didn’t have to be late for me; you could’ve gone there.”
“Would you want me to?”
That made her stop with butterflies in her head; but instead of vocally saying it, she turned on her hairdryer and he laughed at her subtle way of saying; ‘no’.
“Give me a moment...”
The clock had hit thirty past eight when she was finally done.
After some final touches of accessories, a few sprays of her vanilla-scented perfume, her cross-body purse and lastly, her oversized brown knitted jacket – she was ready.
So Ah watered her potted mint with soft humming.
“I’ll be right back; watch over the house when I’m gone.” She cooed to the bright greenery leaves then put down the bottle spray.
During the first few days and weeks of being in this foreign part of America, before she and Leon had gotten close, her mint was the only thing she talked to – not in a crazy old lady way, and sure her plant didn’t reply back, but it was better than nothing.
It was like a piece of her favourite grandparent was with her; it brought peace to her.
The house keys giggled in her hand as she picked it up along with her phone and left the house, locking the door behind her. She brought up her phone to text Leon just as she made her way down the walkway.
Picasso next door: Hey I’m ready, are you at her place?
Before So Ah could text more, she let out a hitched oomf when she bumped into a toned chest and stumbled back; then a chuckle left through a familiar pair of lips.
“Oh, Leon.” So Ah breathed in, caught off guard and she internally cursed when she felt her cheeks heat up at the amused grin on his kissable handsome face.
“Took you long enough,” Leon said jokingly, his eyes taking in her attire and widening just a little in delight; she wore the skirt overall that he had picked.
But it was nothing compared to the heart eyes she was involuntarily giving him; he was wearing what she had bought and chosen for him.
The cobalt button-up shirt had fit him perfectly, tucked into his off-blue jeans with the belt that she had snuck to the cashier whilst he was mindlessly scanning through other clothes, black boots that he already owned along with the black fingerless gloves that made her insides clench at just the sight of how sexy it complimented his hands, and finally, the motor racer leather jacket that fell right under his belt.
This is proof that apparently, I do have a thing for hands...
“Oh, wow.” The words escaped her lips through a gushing dreamy sigh before she could even think of something to actually say.
Leon was perceptive enough to notice the heart-eyes she held, and also was perceptive enough to realize that maybe, just maybe; she does not act like this around others – not around Patrick, her siblings, nor Diane; just him.
And red crept up his neck and to his ears at the sudden actualization – it’s been right in front of him, right in his face with no personal space whatsoever; she felt the same way towards him just as he was to her.
He felt like he didn’t deserve it – but that only lasted a split second before she cleared her throat, shy eyes darting away.
“You look – uh, really good.” So Ah managed to compliment, fingers beginning to wring with one another – and he noticed.
Holy fuck, all these small signs –
Leon exhaled out a chuckle, “Thanks; you still look as beautiful as ever.”
He gave her a wink and offered his arm before she could stammer out a feeble comeback, “Shall we go? It’s already close to nine.”
Her eyes widened and looked at her watch, cringing when she saw he was right.
“Crap, we’re late.” She muttered, grabbing onto his arm and they both made their way down the street.
“Don’t worry about it.” He assured her, “I saw someone arrive about twenty minutes ago,”
“Yeah, but we literally live right across from her.”
Leon rolled his eyes exasperatedly, “It’s fine; consider it we showed up fashionably late.” He said, gazing down at her just as she did up to him, stars were in her eyes.
How could he have been that bad at perceiving?
“Two hours late.” She shot back when they got to Diane’s porch.
He laughed, other hand coming up to pat the one grasping onto his arm, “You think too much in that pretty head of yours, sweetheart.”
“Overthinking is my hobby.” She let out a feigned prideful sigh, emitting a breathily chuckle from him as he rang the bell.
So Ah could hear the upbeat but classic music coming from the house and from just glancing at the windows, she saw people of different ages mingling and talking, some laughing with drinks in their hands.
That caused anxiety to begin stirring up inside of her, unintentionally tightening her grip on Leon’s arm just a second before the door swung open, revealing Diane.
“Oh! You guys made it! Come in, come in!” Diane beamed and So Ah returned the smile, though in an apologetic way as the duo entered the confines of the chattering warm household.
Diane had a black high-waist pencil skirt, spruce blue button-up shirt, wide-collared thin cardigan, black tights and high heels; and her hair was up in a bun.
My God, the warmth is heavenly in here...
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Leon stated with a grin of his own and Diane giggled before turning to So Ah.
“Should I take your coats?” She offered but the girl shook her head; if anything, her jacket brought her comfort.
“It’s fine, but sorry for showing up late.” So Ah apologized and Diane waved at her dismissively.
“No, it’s alright! My uncle Roger just arrived like twenty minutes ago.” Diane laughed, gesturing over her shoulder with her thumb to the old-aged man standing by the snacks’ table, munching on some nachos.
“Oh, right! Come, I want to introduce you to my family.” Diane smiled and ushered them to the living room, the duo following after her.
Leon leaned down just a little to brush his lips faintly against So Ah’s ear.
“I can feel you shaking on my arm; just say the word and we can get outta here, okay?” Leon spoke lowly gently with a soft smile, sending goose-bumps down her spine and caused her cheeks to flush.
So Ah chose to nod with a similar smile just as they reached the living room; she did not trust her mouth to say something coherent.
It was endearing; he was endearing.
“Hey, Kennedy, was it?” Diane’s husband’s – Richard – gruff voice made So Ah jump and nearly choke on her mug of hot chocolate that Diane had given out a few minutes ago.
“Yeah, that’s me,” Leon replied with a polite smile to the middle-aged man, smirking in amusement a little at So Ah’s reaction.
“You good with choppin’ wood?” Richard asked, his southern accent seeping through faintly and Leon raised an eyebrow in confusion at the man.
“The fireplace’s cold and I forgot to chop more wood for it, think you can lend a hand?” Richard continued.
“Of course.” Leon sat down his drink and So Ah’s eyes visibly widened in panic when his arm was slipping from her hold and Richard noticed.
“Don’t worry, young lady.” Richard reassured with a tilted grin, “Your man will be back in one piece if he knows how to swing the axe.” He patted Leon’s back, letting out a bark of laughter.
“Oh, uh...” She stammered, trying to correct the misunderstanding with rose-red cheeks – that she wished was true – but Leon winked at her.
“You heard the man, buttercup.” His hand caressed her arm soothingly before Richard led him away to the backyard with a ‘we’ll be back’, leaving So Ah by the fireplace alone.
Ah, double fuck.
It’s been ten minutes until she had decided standing alone would make her stand out more than she had wanted and she ran out of hot chocolate too; so that was another motivator to get her out of her little not-so-warm spot next to the fireplace.
She spotted Diane with a tray of more snacks, specifically nachos because a certain uncle by the name of Roger wouldn’t stop finishing them.
“Oh, Diane, is there any chocolate left?” So Ah whispered bashfully and Diane had to lean it to hear her.
“Huh? Yeah! It’s on the kitchen’s counter, help yourself out.” Diane offered her a smile then So Ah thanked her and made her way there.
When she got to the kitchen, she noticed how no one but a teenage boy was leaning against the counter with his Nintendo Switch in his hands and eyes boring straight into it.
She didn’t pay much attention to the boy and went to the counter, spotting the electric kettle as if it was a prize – unaware that said boy had looked up from his switch and lost complete interest in his game.
“How do you operate this thing?” She questioned to herself when the chocolate treat wouldn’t come out when she’d tip the kettle over.
“There’s a switch right on the handle.” The boy perked up, catching her attention and she blinked, looking back down at the handle but saw two buttons instead.
“Uhm, which one? There are two.” She giggled and he smiled, shoving his switch into his jumper’s pockets and walked towards her.
“This one opens the hatch, see?” He pressed the button and she heard the audible click then tilted the kettle slowly, letting out a stretched oh when her steaming drink poured out.
“Ah, there it is.” So Ah gave him a soft smile, “Thanks.”
“No problem.” He nodded, blushing a little which she didn’t notice as she was busy pouring her drink.
“So, uh, you’re not from around here, are you?” He asked and she tilted her head at the nervous tone in his voice and assumed he was just trying to make small talk.
“No, I’m from Seoul.” She replied, setting the kettle back down after pressing the button again, closing the hatch, “I moved next door about four months ago.”
“Oh? That’s cool! I’ve got friends in Korea too!” He grinned, as if happy to find something in common... Somewhat.
She let out a small giggle, nodding as she took a sip, noticing how he stood with both hands in his pockets and he seemed like he was thinking of something else to say. She decided to chat along; Leon wasn’t back yet and the boy wasn’t half as bad – talking wise.
Minus the eight years of an age difference between them, she was just glad she wasn’t gonna look like a loner.
“How are you related to Diane?” So Ah asked after swallowing the warm drink, “I didn’t see you in the living room when she introduced her family.”
“Oh, I’m her nephew – so she’d be my aunt... Like how a family tree works...” He trailed away, nearly stuttering when she smiled politely.
“I’m Timothy but my friends call me Tim.” The teenage boy, now Timothy, introduced himself, putting his hand out with a toothy grin.
“Oh, that’s a cool name.” She complimented; recalling one of her male friends who shared the same name.
“I’m So Ah.” She shook his hand, instantly feeling how warm and a bit sticky it was.
Is he that nervous? Or is it that hot in here?
“Th – Thanks.” He smiled awkwardly but her hand stayed in his, unaware of So Ah slowly beginning to realize what was happening, especially when he wouldn’t let go of her hand.
“Sorry!” Timothy quickly removed his hand, wiping the sweaty palm against his jeans.
“The, uh, the heater in here is a bit high.” He awkwardly laughed before clearing his throat, “So, how do you like it so far?”
“It?” So Ah repeated, brows furrowing in confusion as her eyes darted behind her for a second; what is Leon chopping? A forest?
“Oh, it’s nice actually.” She hummed with a faint smile, recalling every place Leon had taken her; that mountain, Matthew’s mansion, the picnic, the shopping spree.
She thought she’d leave this city with little to no memories – but a certain government worker had to prove her wrong.
“Have you been to Button Mash?” He asked, not noticing the way her fingers tightened around her mug for a split second.
She shook her head with a curious look, “No, what’s that?”
“It’s an arcade place.” Timothy answered, “My friends from school and I go there all the time.”
“Oh, that sounds nice.” She gave him a polite smile and pulled her mug up to her lips, beginning to take a sip.
“I could take you there.”
Oh, double-double fuck.
She nearly sputtered over her drink, coughing a little and looked over at him with surprised eyes, “What?”
Timothy suddenly seemed nervous but on the ballsy side, putting one hand on his hip and the other on the counter, trying to seem nonchalant.
“Yeah, I’ve recently got my own ride – oh, and you can meet my friends! If you want to of course.”
To say that she was taken aback would be an understatement, already feeling a little bad.
“Listen, Timothy –”
“Tim.” She corrected, trying to pick her words carefully, “I’m flattered, really but uh, you’re very young, you know?”
Timothy blinked, tilting his head as he was puzzled, “I’m eighteen, what do you mean?” He questioned.
“Yeah, you... You don’t have a girl or a guy around your age?”
“What do you me–”
Before that honeyed voice would register in her head, a gentle kiss was planted on her cheek along with a stubble tickling her skin and a hand rested on her waist tenderly.
So Ah’s eyes snapped up behind her, seeing Leon standing there with a grin, “Leon.”
She didn’t even know what to say, her little brain-cells going off the rails at the lingering sensation on her flushed cheek and he looked at Timothy.
“Ah, this is Tim.” So Ah replied before giving Timothy an apologetic smile, “Tim, this is Leon – I came with him.”
It seemed to click partially in the teen’s head, eyeing up at the older man who gave him a raised eyebrow look, “Oh, is – uhm – are you two –”
So Ah opened her mouth to refute but Leon seemed to have other plans, “Yeah; sorry, kid.”
She gave him an incredulous look as if saying ‘what the hell are you saying?’ But Leon only gave her a sideways glance.
“Oh...” Timothy trailed away, visibly frowning at the answer – which was false; “I didn’t know you were into, uhm, older men.”
“Old?” Leon seemed offended, straightening up at the words that came out of Timothy’s mouth but this time, So Ah jumped in.
“No, no.” She shook her head with an awkward giggle, “I’m actually twenty-six.”
Timothy’s eyes widened at this, jaw-dropping, “Are you kidding me?”
And she shook her head, glancing at her mug as if God was giving her the script of what to say.
“You don’t look twenty-six.” He looked at her up and down then back up, narrowing his eyes a little in suspicion.
“I’ve been told that before, but really, I’m twenty-six.” She gave him what would one call; an ‘I’m-sorry-you-have-to-go-through-this-embarrassing-moment’ smile and watched his face go from surprise to humiliated tomato at the realization.
“Oh, crap,” Timothy uttered and the silence in the kitchen never seemed more awkward to the point cringe was crawling up her back.
“I’m so sorry – shit, uhm, I gotta go.”
And just like that, poor teen scurried out of the kitchen and straight up the stairs.
Leon chuckled and she glared playfully at him, smacking his stomach, “What was that for?”
“What was what?” Leon played dumb, furrowing his eyebrows in feigned confusion.
“You know, the whole hey buttercup right in front of the poor guy,” So Ah reminded him, cheeks still red at the kiss.
“What? Did you really like the idea of your first date at some arcade place?” He teased and she grumbled, rolling her eyes. She had million different ways of turning him down but Leon wanted to be Leon.
“Kids around his age are highly sensitive, alright? You’re telling me you weren’t just like him?” She shot back as he leaned against the counter across from her, crossing his arms as he pretended to think it over.
“Nope.” Leon shook his head with a grin, “I was quite the ladies’ man.”
She snorted, causing his smug look to falter, “At the age of eighteen?”
“Is it that hard to believe?” He countered, raising an eyebrow at her as she innocently took another sip from her drink.
She shrugged before perking up at the question in mind, “When was your last serious relationship then?”
Leon stopped to think of an answer, but to her eyes, she watched him go from content to grim and her heart clenched.
“I – I’m sorry, was that too personal?” She instantly asked, hand shooting out to gently hold onto his arm.
His eyes fluttered to a blink, finding her petite hand then looked at her, exhaling with a chuckle.
“No, it’s okay; I was just thinking.” He reassured her, shaking his head and she only frowned at his answer.
“I was twenty-one but on one night, I told her I was going away for a job.” Leon began to talk before she knew it and she stayed quiet to listen to every word that came out of those lips.
“She didn’t like it that I would be gone for long so she ended it right before I left.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know –”
“Hey, that was so long ago, I don’t remember,” Leon said, not all that fazed by having been through one of the worse heartbreaks a twenty-one-year-old would go through.
He was more fazed by the night it had happened; showing up late with a terrible hangover and still having to fight through an entire zombie outbreak then escape before the city was wiped off the map.
That itself was trauma he could never forget about.
Then she gave him a soft smile, giving him a reassurance squeeze just a second before choosing to change the subject, reading the distant glint in his eyes.
“How did it go with Diane’s husband? Gave you a hard time with the axe?”
Leon laughed a little at her way of switching topics but felt glad deep down at her attempt, “Honestly, I think he more so stood back and let me do all the work.”
“Sounds like him alright.” She giggled, flicking away some stray chips of wood from his leather jacket.
“But I’m glad you’re back in one piece, now I won’t feel so alone.” Her cinnamon soft eyes gazed up at him with a toothy smile to which he couldn’t help but smile back; officially rendering him, Leon the one who always teases anyone, silent.
Maybe the vow I’ve made to myself can be altered a little...
Even with all the music and the chatter, So Ah had managed to hear the faint ringtone of her phone followed by the vibrations. They were heading out because Richard and the others had set up the fireworks there now that midnight was nearing.
She stood by as they went out but Leon stood at the doorway, eyeing her expectantly while she was rummaging her purse for her phone, “Don’t wanna see the fireworks?”
“I’ll head out in a sec.” She said, taking out her phone and her brows furrowed at the unknown number. Leon glanced down at it then nodded, going down the porch but stayed within view-shot just in case.
So Ah answered the call, confused and pressed the phone to her ear.
“Oh, thank goodness, So Ah.”
Her entire world paused as she straightened up at the familiar voice. Shutting out all the laughter coming from outside, she took a few steps away from the front door as a way to muffle out the noise.
“Mom?” So Ah asked but only got laboured breaths in returned and rushed hushed words that she couldn’t pick up; “Mom, is everything okay? What’s going on?”
“Listen – your dad – damn it – your dad and I made a big mistake, okay? We didn’t know this was happening - shit! Michael, are you okay?” Her mom, Sena, cursed which was completely out of character of her and that only made So Ah more panicked.
“Mom, what’s going on? Where’s dad?” She pressed on, glancing outside at the counting down chant but missed the soft concerned gaze that was set on her.
“Your dad and I – we – our technology was exploited and – and we’ve been trying to contact you since Christmas but you’ve never answered – and l know you’re upset with us but –”
“What are you talking about? You never called me since that day.” So Ah shot back, anxious at the dreadful feeling on the back of her head.
“What? We did try calling and even texting you! I swear – no, NO, MICHAEL! IT’S HERE, WE’VE GOTTA GO!”
“Mom, mom! Mom, answer me!” So Ah was forced to hear the loud ruckus and screaming on the other side, followed by very eerie thuds that just sounded like impending doom.
“Dad, what’s going on?! Where are you two?!”
The argument they’ve had was instantly forgotten the moment she heard his tone. Usually, it was stern with light mockery but now; now it was dripping with fear.
“We’re – fuck, Sena, just keep running, alright?! – At Green Life and I’m sorry for what I’ve said, okay? I –” She heard him whimper and her heart broke in two, syncing up to the sudden ear-splitting crash on the other side followed by gunshots?
“Sena?! Sena, no –”
“Happy New Year!”
“Mom? Dad? Hey, answer me!” So Ah begged, pressing one hand against her ear and keeping the phone against the other; but it was only beeping.
The call was dropped and she nearly followed if it weren’t for the wall next to her, holding onto the table for support. Everything was loud and her vision was blurring up, she didn’t know if they were tears but the dread only made her heart pound harder.
Trying to call the same number again was futile; just remembering the cries and the uncharacteristic tones in their voices made her knees buckle but gentle hands kept her stable.
“Hey, is everything okay?” Leon’s concerned voice reached her ears, slowly returning her to her surroundings and her chest felt tight.
“My – my parents – they – the –”
“So Ah, I need you to breathe, alright? Just breathe.” His voice interrupted her stammers and her fingers gripped onto his wrists, trying to level her breathings just like the last time she felt this way.
“There you go.” Leon breathed out, palm going to the side of her neck as his thumb caressed her jawline, “Can you tell me what happened?”
“Mhm...” She swallowed heavily, nodding as she blinked away her tears, “My parents – they called but something was wrong.”
“What do you mean?”
Leon was instantly on alert – he knew the FOS’s eyes were dead set on them, considering they’ve got the whole witness protection thing on them. He knew nothing was supposed to happen to them; this was serious.
“I – they were – I think they were running from something at the corporation and I...” She took in a deep breath when she felt she couldn’t talk, receiving tingles from his thumb on her skin.
“Then the call dropped and – Leon, I need to see them.”
Leon nodded, “Okay, you get ready and I’ll bring the car around, alright? I just gotta make a quick call.”
Too Good To Be True - Ch. 47 | kth(m)
Summary: Kim Taehyung is a world famous idol in the hit K-pop group, BTS, and you are his personal stylist. Per your contract with Big Hit, he is absolutely, 100% off-limits, and yet, you are completely and hopelessly in love with him. You’ve spent years trying to shove your feelings down, but it’s getting harder and harder to ignore and hide them, especially considering the way Tae always treats you. He’s affectionate and protective and sometimes outright flirtatious, but that’s how he is with everyone, right? Confused, frustrated, and lovesick, you find yourself wondering if it might finally be worth risking your career and your heart to find out.
pairing: Taehyung x reader
genre: Idol! au, fluff, angst, eventual smut, friends to lovers, slow burn
word count: 5.8k
A/N: The long ass chapter was unanimously voted for so here it is! I hope you enjoy. Also, I would LOVE LOVE LOVE to hear your thoughts and reactions and predictions :)
Chapter 47: Lying To Yourself - Part 2
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There are moments in your life that you know without question you will never forget. They are indelible, monumental ones with profound and lasting effects, ones during which everything changes and after which you know you will never be the same.
The moment in your backyard when your mom told you her diagnosis was one.
The moment on the beach when Tae first called you his and kissed your temple was another.
The moment in your bedroom when you unconsciously recoiled from him was the most recent.
The panic and unease that you felt when he touched you subsided by the time he left the room, but by then the damage had already been done. The look on his face after you pulled away from him had caused a fracture somewhere deep down in your heart. From it emanated a dull, throbbing ache that reverberated throughout every corner of your body right down to the very core of your being. Tae was the love of your life. He was one day going to be your husband and father of your children. He was your home.
But you had let things get so bad, had kept so many secrets and let your mental health deteriorate to such an extent that, for the briefest of moments, you had been afraid of him.
Feelings of immense shame and deep regret began welling up inside you almost instantly and only intensified as the night progressed and Tae showered you with a level of love and attention that you felt wholly undeserving of.
He made one of his grandmother’s recipes for dinner, one he said she always made for him whenever he wasn’t feeling well. Once he was done, he didn’t call you into the kitchen, he brought a plate to you right there in the living room. After settling in behind you on the couch with your back to his chest, he proceeded to feed you with one hand and hold you close with the other. As if that wasn’t adorable enough, he spent the whole time saying sweet things like, ‘Have to take care of my Jagi’ and ‘Want my sweetheart to feel better’. Later on, after you had watched several episodes of your show and were starting to drift off, he carried you to bed and tucked you in.
The flood of guilt that poured down upon you that night as you tried and failed to fall asleep nearly drowned you. Tae had given you everything. Not just that night, but every night and every day since that moment on the beach. He had shown you over and over again how much he loved and respected and cherished you, but still you let in doubts about him, stomping all over his unwavering support and commitment with your unfounded mistrust and suspicion.
Yes, you were in a unique, complicated, and stressful situation by dating Tae in secret and having a fake dating cover. Yes, you were being harassed and manipulated by a selfish, conniving bitch who was clearly determined to ruin your relationship. But, at the end of the day, you were ultimately the one to blame for your life’s current state of disrepair.
You didn’t speak up.
You didn’t ask for help.
You didn’t take control of your own life.
As you laid there in Tae’s arms, the faint, but steady panging in your chest a cruel reminder of the hurt you had caused to you both, your mind latched onto a small flicker of hope.
It’s not too late to fix this.
Monday night you had lied when you said you didn’t feel well, but over the course of the next few days you found yourself feeling legitimately ill as you toiled over how to fix the mess you had created. Your head hurt all the time, no doubt from the turbulent thoughts that endlessly swirled through your mind. You felt nauseous when you remembered the awful things you’d allowed yourself to imagine or thought about how close you’d been to ruining everything. Your body ached from head to toe, though, nothing hurt quite as much as your heart. And, you were tired, so, very tired.
You knew these physical symptoms were psychosomatic, mere manifestations of the emotional stress you were experiencing, but Tae didn’t and immediately went into concerned, protective boyfriend mode. Whenever he asked what you thought might be wrong you said you just felt off and not like yourself which was technically the truth. You told him not to worry, though, and that you were sure you would feel better soon which was also the truth. At the end of the week, once you talked to him and made a plan for how to move forward together, you would feel better.
However, your reassurances unfortunately did nothing to quell his worries. He spent all week fretting about your health and doting on you, making sure you were comfortable and taken care of at all times. Around the apartment, he didn’t let you lift a finger. Despite your protests, he insisted on doing all the cooking and cleaning and laundry. He was also extremely physically affectionate, giving you shoulder massages and endless forehead kisses and all the cuddles, but he thankfully didn’t push for any kind of intimacy. Although the thought of it no longer made you uncomfortable, you wanted to wait until after you talked to be with him again.
He kept pleading for you to stay home from work and rest and even began threatening to tell Mrs. Choi that you were pushing yourself through sickness. You assured him it wasn’t that serious and that you were fine to keep working, but made an appointment with your doctor for next week anyway to appease him. It had been your plan to eventually make one anyway to discuss birth control options so the timing worked out.
While at work he was more affectionate and protective than ever before. Every day, he left one of your favorite dark chocolate truffles on the counter next to the ‘Best Friend Tata’ along with a secret, sweet note. When Mrs. Choi asked you to bring up some boxes from the storage closet downstairs, he offered to go with you and then refused to let you take any, carrying all three up by himself. He reminded you to stay hydrated throughout the day and refilled your water bottle every time it was close to empty. He even once accidentally gave your back an affectionate rub after you casually mentioned it was sore which thankfully no one saw.
All week long Jisoo seemed to be an afterthought to him, that is, if he even remembered at all that they were supposed to ‘dating’. He skipped all his cafe lunches with her and instead opted to eat with you in the break room. Clearly not wanting to leave your side unless absolutely necessary, he never went over to her studio. The few times she came to visit your studio, he paid her little mind and instead kept his focus on you, periodically asking how you were feeling or if there was anything you needed.
Although your original plan of purposefully rubbing your relationship in Jisoo’s face had gone out the window after the whole ‘J’ text message discovery, you realized partway through the week that Tae was unintentionally doing it anyway. Her displeasure over his lack of attention to her was deliciously obvious to you and the fact that he didn’t notice whatsoever made it all the sweeter. If him skipping lunch with her to have sex with you was winning the battle, then him basically forgetting about her existence because he was so concerned for your well-being was definitely winning the war.
You felt somewhat guilty for not telling him the real reason why you weren’t feeling well and for keeping him at arm’s length, but the space you created for yourself by doing so gave you some much-needed perspective regarding your current situation and its implications for your future together. Originally, you just wanted to confront him about what it was that he was hiding, but it dawned on you Monday night that doing so would only be addressing the symptom of a greater problem: the lack of trust and stability in your relationship. As the week progressed, and you thought through all that had happened and everything you were feeling, you eventually came to several crucial, long-overdue realizations.
By Tuesday, you knew you needed to come clean about everything you had been bottling up this past month. You were concealing your true feelings so as not to hurt him, but concealing your true feelings was causing him pain anyway. The longer you went without sharing them, the more damage they would cause when they inevitably spilled out. It would be painful for you both to talk about your deep-seated insecurities and the ways in which he had inadvertently hurt you, but together you would heal and your relationship would be that much stronger.
By Wednesday, you knew you needed to put an end to the fake dating immediately. Tae was fake dating Jisoo to protect your relationship, but fake dating Jisoo was putting your relationship in even greater danger than before. She had proven she could not be trusted and that her intentions were purely selfish. She was a deadly, toxic leech and it was clear she would keep taking from you until there was nothing left if given the chance. If Bang PD or anyone else still had doubts after they broke up, so be it. That was a risk you were willing to take to get her out of your life and take away the power she currently had over you.
By Thursday, though, you had come to the biggest, most consequential realization of all. You were at your station getting ready to head home for the day when Eunji and Donghae came over. You assumed they were coming over to gossip or just say goodbye…until you noticed they were holding hands. In hindsight, you shouldn’t have been surprised to learn they were dating. There had always been a little spark between them. You had always felt ever-so-slightly like a third wheel when you were all together.
Truly, though, you couldn’t be happier for them; they made a great couple. The excitement radiating off of them was contagious, and you found your mood lifting instantly just seeing them beam at one another all sappily. However, it was something Eunji said that had the most profound effect on you.
‘It just feels so good to say it out loud and not have to hide it anymore.'
That was the precise moment when you finally accepted a truth you had been avoiding for days: you needed to leave Big Hit. You were keeping your relationship a secret so you could be together, but keeping your relationship a secret was tearing you apart. You had come to this conclusion once before only to have Tae then convince you otherwise. His heart was absolutely in the right place when he did so, and you did not fault him for trying to preserve what seemed to be the ideal situation, but you knew now that the dream of being with him at Big Hit and with him was just too good to be true.
Sneaking around, keeping secrets, lying to everyone. You simply could not keep living like that for the next five plus years. It wasn’t healthy. It wasn’t safe. It wasn’t fair. The truth, you now realized, was that you needed more. You both deserved more. You didn't deserve to have to keep things hidden, to be made to feel like your love was shameful and what you were doing was wrong. You deserved to be in a relationship where you felt secure, one where you could openly give and receive all the love and support you needed.
You leaving Big Hit would certainly present new challenges to your relationship, but if Tae loved you like you thought he did, he would understand it was truly the right decision. If you wanted that beautiful future he told you about - the kids, the big house in the countryside, the happily ever after - then this was a sacrifice that needed to be made.
Coming to all of these realizations had been a difficult and emotionally draining process, but you knew that sharing them with Tae was going to be even harder. No matter how carefully you chose your words, no matter how calmly you spoke, he was going to get extremely upset. For that reason, you thought long and hard about when to have this big, life-changing conversation.
Originally, you had planned to talk to him tomorrow before he met up with ‘J’, but he had actually not yet mentioned that he was going anywhere. If he wasn’t going out after all, you thought it might be best to wait until after the Big Hit family photoshoot on Saturday; dropping this bomb the night before seemed rather cruel. However, when you remembered that Jisoo was going to be there, and that she was going to be putting on a big show with Tae for Bang PD, you knew you couldn’t wait. You had to talk to him tomorrow.
You were looking forward to relaxing and enjoying this last evening with him before everything changed, but as soon as you got home from work you noticed Tae was a little off. He was strangely quiet throughout all of dinner and then only grew more withdrawn once you started cuddling on the couch watching Netflix. You were just about to ask him what was wrong when he suddenly paused the episode you were watching.
For the next few minutes he didn’t say anything, but you swear you could just hear him thinking. Eventually, he gently turned you around in his arms so you were facing him. The way he was nervously biting his lips and fidgeting his hands on your waist instantly set off alarm bells in your head. He looked so scared right now and your immediate thought was that he somehow knew what you were planning to tell him tomorrow.
“Jagi, the reason why you aren’t feeling well...is it because...are you…,” he began apprehensively before his voice trailed off.
You waited anxiously for him to finish that sentence and admit he somehow knew you had spent all week having an existential crisis which ultimately resulted in your decision to leave Big Hit. Taking a slow, deep breath, he gave you one last searching look before continuing.
“A-Are you pregnant?” he finally asked in a shaky, breathy voice.
Upon hearing his words, your eyes went wide. That was the absolute last thing you thought he was going to ask you.
“It’s just...I know it can happen even when you use protection and you brought up birth control for the first time on Sunday and now you’re suddenly feeling nauseous and achy and exhausted without any other explanation,” he rushed out.
“I can’t help but wonder if you took a test after we talked and found out you are, but that you’re afraid to tell me because you think I’ll be upset and not want you to keep it,” he then added, the hurt in his voice unmistakable.
“I know it would be really overwhelming and even a little scary if you were, but it hurts me to think that you wouldn’t want to tell me,” he went on, now getting a bit emotional. “That you think I wouldn’t be supportive.”
“Because the truth is, if you told me right now that you were pregnant I would be the happiest man in the world,” he said softly.
“I always saw us starting our family in the next few years before I went into the military so if we unintentionally got a head start that would be perfectly OK,” he then admitted with a hesitant smile.
“I would take care of you, sweetheart,” he added earnestly as he cupped your cheek with his hand. “We would get married and I would take care of you and our baby and I would be so unbelievably happy.”
For a few moments you simply stared back at him in stunned silence. You didn’t know what shocked you more, that your behavior this week had led him to this conclusion or the fact that he wouldn’t be at all upset if you had accidentally gotten pregnant. In all honesty, you always thought it would be many years before he’d want to get married and then many more after that before he’d want to start a family. As much as he loved kids, you assumed he wouldn’t want to start having them at the height of his career with BTS.
His declaration that he wouldn’t just be there for you, but would be genuinely excited, was by far the sweetest, most romantic thing he’d ever said to you. In that moment, you knew with absolute certainty that you and him were going to be OK. The changes that were coming would be difficult, yes, but you would get through them together.
You had half a mind to tell him everything right then and there, but you soon found yourself overcome with emotion. You felt guilty that you’d caused him to worry like this. You felt relieved that you would still be able to tell him of your decision on your own terms tomorrow. But, mostly you just felt grateful. Grateful that he was yours. Grateful to have his love.
“Tae, I’m not pregnant,” was all you managed to get out before you buried your face in his neck and began crying happy tears.
“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry,” Tae quickly said as he hugged you tightly to his chest. “I didn’t mean to make you upset.”
“I was just worried,” he then added before placing a tender kiss on your temple. “You’ve never gotten sick like this before and I was worried and then I started thinking about things and Googling your symptoms and that made me more worried but also kind of excited and I just wanted to make sure and-“
You stopped his adorable rambling by gently pressing your lips to his.
“Baby, I’m not upset,” you said softly. “These are good tears.”
“I just love you so much,” you then added as you kissed the tip of his nose.
“I love you too,” he replied, gazing at you with a look of such adoration it made your heart melt.
“When the time comes, I promise you’ll be the first to know,” you then said with a shy smile.
“OK, Jagi,” he said back, giving you a big, boxy smile as he brushed away a stray tear with his thumb.
The two of you then spent the rest of the night holding each other close, sharing tender, lingering kisses, and whispering sweet nothings. This time, as you laid there in his arms, you felt the ache in your heart fade and the flicker of hope grow with each passing second.
You wouldn’t just fix it, you would make it better than ever before.
The following morning when you woke up, you felt better than you had in a long time. You felt well-rested, having fallen asleep rather quickly and finally gotten a decent night’s sleep. More than that, though, you felt at peace. At peace with your decision and the new direction your life with Tae was going to take. You were certainly still a little anxious about actually having the conversation, but last night gave you all the reassurance you needed to know that he would understand and support you.
After enjoying some lazy morning snuggles with him which Tannie boldly intruded on, the two of you eventually got yourselves out of bed and dressed for work. A short while later you were in the kitchen sipping coffee and reading the news when Tae came in.
“Hey, I just realized that I forgot to tell you I’m going over to Jimin's tonight for dinner,” he said casually as he began making himself some tea. “We realized on Monday that we haven’t really hung out in a while.”
“He says he’s worried you’ve replaced him as my soulmate,” he went on with a laugh. “He’s absolutely right, but I can’t let him know that just yet.”
The laugh you let out in response was hearty and genuine. All week long you had been waiting for this moment, but now that it was here you realized you didn’t want to press him and force him to reveal the truth. You trusted Tae, wholly and unequivocally. Whatever he was doing, whatever project he was working on, you believed with all your heart that he had a perfectly valid reason for not telling you about it yet, that it had absolutely nothing to do with Jisoo, and that it wasn’t anything you needed to worry about. It would probably come up anyway when you talked about everything tonight; there was no need to interrogate him about it right now.
“I suppose I could share you for a little while,” you said back in an exaggeratedly disappointed voice.
“Will you be out late you think?” you then questioned lightly, hoping he wouldn’t because your talk would probably take a fair amount of time.
“No, definitely not,” he assured you with a smile. “Not with the shoot tomorrow.”
“Ok, I’ll wait up for you then,” you replied nonchalantly.
“I’d like that,” he said back shyly, turning to give you a little smile. “I don’t like to go to bed without saying goodnight to you.”
Blushing a bit at his sweet words, you gave him a bashful smile of your own as you felt yourself relax a tiny bit more.
Tonight is going to go just fine
The day went by incredibly quickly. There was so much you and the other stylists needed to do to prepare for the photoshoot that there was hardly time to even think about your impending talk with Tae. You did, however, schedule a meeting with Mrs. Choi for Monday morning. Assuming your talk tonight went well, you would need to let her know about your plans to leave Big Hit. You were thinking it would be best to leave just before the holidays and wanted to give her enough time to find a replacement before then.
You also needed to give yourself time to find another job. Where you wanted to work next was something you hadn’t figured out yet and obviously needed to talk over with Tae. Given your experience, it made sense to go work with another group at one of the other management companies, but part of you wondered if it would be best to leave the music industry altogether. Perhaps you could take Park Seo-joon up on his offer and get a job working on a TV show. It would be different, for sure, but maybe the change would be good and would make you miss Big Hit and Tae a little less.
You only saw him once during the day when he dropped by the studio to pick something up from the storage closet. As he walked by the table where you were ironing his outfit for tomorrow, he shot you a wink which immediately made your heart flutter. Biting back a smile, you quickly looked down and got back to work. You would definitely miss being able to enjoy little moments like this with him, but you knew that having a healthy, solid relationship would be infinitely more rewarding.
As you were packing up at the end of the day, grateful not to be getting out ridiculously late, you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket.
[Taehyung 5:03 PM]
I’m heading off to Jimin’s now.
[Taehyung 5:03 PM]
I’ll see you later tonight, sweetheart.
[Taehyung 5:04 PM]
I love you so much 💜
I love you too 💜
During the drive home it finally hit you that tonight was the night that would change everything. You had managed to stay calm throughout the day, but you were officially starting to get nervous now. It’s not that you didn’t think your conversation would go well because you absolutely believed that it would. You just knew it was going to be a tough one, filled with many tears on both sides.
Once you got home you changed into pajamas, had some leftovers for dinner, and then sat on the couch with a glass of wine. You put on a show to try and distract yourself, but your mind was most definitely elsewhere. You were trying to decide where and how to start the conversation and whether or not you should have some kind of speech prepared. After an hour of contemplation, the only thing you knew for sure was that the first thing you would say was a simple, ‘I love you.’ From there, you would just speak from the heart and trust that the words would come to you.
As the night wore on, you found yourself growing a bit restless. Although you didn’t specifically ask Tae what time he would be home, when he said not too late you assumed that meant around 8 or 9:00 PM. It was nearly 10:00 PM, now, though, and you hadn’t heard anything from him. Over the next half hour you wrote and erased a dozen messages to him. You were getting slightly worried, but didn’t want to disturb him and come off as too clingy. Thankfully, before you let your mind fill with dark thoughts that involved Tae lying in a ditch somewhere, your phone buzzed on the couch beside you.
[Taehyung 10:34 PM]
I’m actually going to be here a while longer.
[Taehyung 10:35 PM]
You don’t need to wait up.
Staring down at the words on the screen, your heart sank. You really wanted to talk to him about everything tonight. While you could theoretically still talk in the morning, you knew you wouldn’t have a lot of time. You also knew he was going to be a wreck afterwards and didn’t want him to then have to go straight to the photoshoot. Briefly, you considered just telling him you needed to talk to him and asking if there was any way he could come home sooner, but that felt kind of desperate. You still didn’t know where he was or what he was doing and you felt guilty bothering him. Letting out a long sigh, you finally replied back.
OK. Drive safe.
You didn’t then say goodnight because you didn’t actually have any intention of going to bed. The fact of the matter was you needed to talk to him tonight, even if that meant you stayed up until 3 in the morning and then had to hide the little baggies under his eyes in the shoot tomorrow. You had waited long enough as it was and you honestly didn’t think you would be able to sleep if you didn’t get all of this off your chest. Placing your phone back down on the couch beside you, you wrapped a blanket around yourself, snuggled Tanju to your chest, and waited.
It was almost midnight by the time he finally came home. The moment you heard the apartment door open, your stomach filled with butterflies. ‘This is it’, you thought to yourself. After a month of keeping everything inside, you were finally going to let it all out. You were extremely nervous, but also excited. Tonight would mark the start of the next chapter of your life together.
“Hi, Tae,” you said softly as he rounded the corner and entered the living room.
Clearly not expecting you to be there, he literally jumped at the sound of your voice.
“Oh, you’re still up,” was all he said, looking at you with an unreadable expression.
It was just four words, just a simple sentence, but with it he still managed to completely level you. It wasn’t even what he said, but the way he said it. In his voice there wasn’t just surprise, but disappointment. You could see it too in the way his face had fallen the moment he saw you. It was almost as if he was hoping you would be asleep when he got home.
“Yea, I…I said I would wait up,” you replied back hesitantly, trying not to convey the hurt you felt at his reaction.
“Well, you didn’t have to,” he said flatly as he looked away and rubbed the back of his neck with one hand.
A beat of uncomfortable silence then passed between you two as you tried to think of how to respond. Wherever he had been, whatever he had been doing, clearly something happened to make him upset. Standing up from the couch, you started walking towards him, hoping to comfort him with a hug, but the way he subtly stepped back and retreated from you had you stopping in your tracks.
“You should get to bed,” he said, his tone slightly clipped. “We have a long day tomorrow.”
As you looked him over, noting the way his hands were nervously fidgeting at his sides, the air between you grew heavy.
“Tae, is everything OK?” you asked after another few moments of awkward silence.
Your voice was now laden with concern and your expression one of genuine worry. Something was most definitely wrong right now.
“Everything is fine,” he replied, a hint of defensiveness in his voice.
“I just feel bad that you waited up,” he then added, his tone now suspiciously light and gentle. “I want to make sure you get a good night's sleep before the shoot tomorrow.”
The look he gave you then was much softer, but still reticent and with it you could just tell that he was silently pleading for you to stop asking questions. Whatever was bothering him, he didn’t want to talk about it right now. You didn’t want to press him on it if he wasn’t ready to share, but you did still want to have the conversation you had been preparing for all week long.
“I appreciate that,” you said cautiously.
“But I...I wanted to talk to you about something,” you then added hesitantly, trying to keep your voice even despite the fact that you were very much on edge at that moment.
In response, he let out a long, frustrated sigh.
“Look, I’m not really in the mood to talk right now,” he then replied irritatedly. “I’m tired and I just want to go to sleep.”
At the sound of his words, all of the courage you spent so long building up began draining out of you. Obviously, he didn’t know just how important the something you wanted to talk about was, but the fact that he just shut you down like that really stung. For a moment you thought about trying to explain to him that it really couldn’t wait, but one glance at the annoyed expression on his face immediately squashed that idea.
“OK,” you said quietly as you turned around and started towards the bedroom. “I’ll…I’ll head to bed then.”
Walking into the bedroom, you felt a heavy blanket of unease settle over you. You had never seen Tae act so strangely before, so distant and cagey and snippy. Last night he was so sweet and affectionate and caring, but right now he seemed like an entirely different person. Hoping that he was currently cooling off out in the living room, you slipped into bed and anxiously waited for him.
You waited for a long time, so long that you thought perhaps he fell asleep already out there on the couch, but eventually, sometime near 1:00 AM, he came into the room. From the way he trudged around, sighing deeply, you could tell he was still upset. When he finally climbed into bed, though, and laid down beside you but then didn’t put his arms around you like he usually did, you knew something was truly not OK.
“Tae, what’s wrong?” you whispered as you fought back tears. “Did I…did I do something to make you upset?”
From the way your words startled him, it was obvious he thought you were already asleep. Your heart plummeted in your chest when you realized he must have purposefully waited so long to come to bed in the hopes that you were no longer awake so he could avoid talking to you.
“No, sweetheart, you didn’t,” he quickly assured you as he wound his arms around you and pulled you close.
“I…I got into an argument with Jimin before I left his apartment,” he then said reluctantly. “I'm just upset about that.”
Obviously, you knew that wasn’t the truth, but you didn’t want to let him know you knew that since you hadn’t had a chance to talk to him about everything. Still, you wanted to try and understand what was wrong and why he was acting like this.
“Are you sure that’s it?” you asked in the smallest voice imaginable. “It just…it seemed like you weren’t happy to see me when you got home.”
“Jagi, I’m so sorry I made you feel that way,” he replied, the guilt in his voice evident. “You didn't do anything wrong.”
“I’m just stressed and frustrated with myself and I took it out on you,” he then added sadly. “I’m so sorry for doing that.”
For a few moments, you didn’t respond as you let his words wash over you. He did seem more flustered than angry right now, so perhaps whatever was bothering him truly wasn’t about you. Part of you still wanted to talk, but it was already so late and it just didn’t seem like the right time to get into everything. You were tired now, and still hurt from the way he had treated you, and no longer felt ready to share any of the important things you needed to tell him. With a heavy heart, you accept that it would just have to wait until tomorrow morning.
“It’s OK,” you finally said back.
“I’m sorry again, sweetheart,” he said back, sounding genuinely remorseful.
“It’s OK,” you repeated tiredly. “Let’s just get some sleep.”
“Goodnight, Tae,” you whispered.
“Goodnight, Jagi,” he said back before pressing a kiss to your shoulder.
As you laid there, trying to relax and get comfortable after the unexpectedly stressful events of the evening, you suddenly noticed something. You had been so relieved when Tae finally put his arms around you and snuggled you against his chest that it initially failed to catch your attention. For the first time since you had started dating, for the first time since he stayed with you the night of the Dynamite music video shoot, he was doing something that very well might have been a coincidence, but was extremely peculiar and ever-so-slightly unsettling nonetheless.
He was sleeping with a shirt on.
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You Worry Me
Pairings: Emily & Hotch
Summary: college au things, Hotch checking himself into a mental hospital for the weekend
Warnings: child abuse, mental health struggles, abuse, suicide attempt, drugs, alcohol
When Emily asked him if he wanted to get an apartment with her she had expected far more hesitation than what she was met with. It’s not that she doesn't have other people to ask but when she really has to think about it he’s the only person she wants around like that. She’s content with his silence and his strange but enrapturing bouts of… oddness. She’s already thrown up in front of him (bad stomach flu she refused to admit was as bad as it was) and stood guard so he could pee behind a dumpster when they’d walked to the store at midnight for cigarettes and energy drinks.
She finds the courage to ask him on the front lawn of campus, stretched out on their backs ignoring their work and just photosynthesizing. Closing their eyes in silent enjoyment as spring tries to peek through winter's tight grip. When she turns to look at him the words just come tumbling out and she waits for his reaction. She’s not sure why she’s expecting anything other than that predictable crooked smirk but it still shocks her. He turns his head, lifting his arm to shield his eyes as he does so. Mostly, he just wants to know where he came in the line-up. How many people told her no before she came to him?
The honest answer is none but she smirks and tells him four and he laughs that deep goofy laugh that he does and she doesn’t know why she was nervous he’d say no. With a tired sigh, he nods and that’s all it takes-- they’re sharing an apartment.
He carries her clothes up to their floor, leaves her the pillows and her comforter for her to drag up. He’s exhausted by the time he’s got her things sitting on her bedroom floor but goes down to the beaten old pick-up truck his mother let him borrow to get his own things. Informs her with one of those long crooked fingers to worry with her own things and leave him to get his own. She resigns herself to listening but only because she’d seen his load and knew her help wouldn’t really quicken the whole six, small, boxes he has.
On his third trip she’s had enough and with a dramatic sigh she shakes her head and stands right in the doorway to his room. “No,” she says, crossing her arms. “No, I refuse to believe this. There’s no way you’ve read all these books.” She’s watched him carry three boxes of books into this apartment and not just boxes with things like thrown in he’s got them stacked to take up as little room as possible in these boxes. They’re heavy, he’s sweating and they keep coming.
With a sigh he leans down and sets the box currently in his arms down on the floor. “I read,” is his very complex answer. Aaron Hotchner has a way with words and she’s come to know that well. He shrugs, pushing at the hair slicked with sweat against his scalp. “I have read them… all of them.” Most of them more than once.
Books are the only thing he’s ever had. When he’d packed up for college all of the room had been taken up by these books. His clothes fit into one box but the books, he made room for the books. Every year, for as long as he can remember, his mother would buy him a book for his birthday. He got a job in town to have money to buy books to try and stifle his insatiable hunger (and his up-and-coming smoking habit).
She looks down at the box he’s just placed down, sighing when she sees that atop a pair of jeans there’s another book. Sherlock Holmes, she recognizes easily, and she shakes her head. “You know,” she steps out of his way and he heaves the box back up with a grunt. “My mother asked if I thought you’d kill me.” He falters mid-step but doesn’t stop. Carries the box to the others and sits it down heavily. He turns and finds her watching him with that quizzical, intuitive frown of hers. “You’re big but I think I could take you.”
He huffs at that, shaking his head and sliding past her so he can get his other boxes. She has no worries about him hurting her and strangely she hadn’t even considered that he might hurt her until her mother had mentioned it. Besides, she knows just enough to never truly worry. He’s the boy who vomits when he gets angry - if he shouts he’ll end up curled around the toilet shaking with a fever. He’d never hit a soul and if he did, she can only imagine the penance his body would conjure up as punishment.
But he huffs and she hears it.
She jumps on his back as he’s setting his box down on the ground. He moves just a little, stumbling under their combined weight. “Emily,” he warns, doing his best to not react. He knows how she is. She wants him to get rough, to hook his arm under her leg and yank her around. If he acts unbothered she’ll leave him alone. She’s far too much like having a little sibling around again - a sobering and, yet, comforting notion.
She does get bored and quickly. “I’m gonna go see Eric,” she informs him, slipping down off his back. He grunts and it’s just the wrong sound and she falters for a moment. Aaron’s met Eric and she’d thought they got along well but… she’s started to second guess that a little more every time she mentions either to the other. “I’ll be back this afternoon,” she adds apprehensively. Catches on to move the conversation on and away from the subject of her boyfriend but she still finds herself hovering by his doorway. Chewing her lip and anxiously asking, “do you mind if I bring Eric Wednesday?”
He just looks down at the box he’s sorting through, back turned to her. He shakes his head, sighing, “I don’t care what you do Emily.” He does care, deeply, but he looks back at her for only a brief moment. Sad brown eyes begging with her to not push, to not make him talk about this more.
With a nod, the conversation is over.
Wednesday night he smokes the pot that Derek passes to him without a second thought. It’s been burned down to the last few puffs, the heat from the lit end burns his fingers tips but he still puts it to his lips. Pulls from what little remains of the blunt as if it’s oxygen itself, a mask over his face meant to level him out. Maybe it will. The heat sinks down into his lungs and he ends up doubled over, spit drooling over his lips. Laughter bubbles up around him and a hand rubs at his back, Emily, he knows but only by the way that her perfume stings his nose he tries to breathe through the assault.
“Give it here before it burns out--”
Emily takes the blunt from his fingers and passes it to Eric. He’s an asshole and they all hate him but they love Emily and if they want her around then they have to deal with him. It’s safer to have him here, where they can watch him. He won’t dare hurt her in front of them -- but is that not what he’s doing when he leaves bruises across her face like constellations? Sends her back to them so that they can dab makeup over the Milky Way and breathe reassurances over Orian’s Belt when she falls into a hug.
Emily pulls him back upright, guides his head to lilt to the side as he sags against her. He can feel Eric’s fingers near his collar, the possessive hand he keeps on Emily at all times. A silent reminder of the power he holds over them all. Emily kisses his temple, oblivious to the mental war happening on both sides of her.
Derek reaches over and smacks his thigh, and encouraging little maneuver he means to comfort Aaron with. Aaron has checked out, arms too heavy to push away from all the touching. Can’t worm out of Emily’s arms or Derek’s comforting hand on his leg. He feels nothing past the tip of his nose. Not Emily’s bones underneath his cheek, her body carved down by Eric’s harmful comments about her weight and the coke he supplies like it’s a love language. Not Derek’s hold on him, the fear he can’t express but feels deep within his churning stomach, that Aaron’s slipping away and they’re all just bystanders to his eventual suicide.
Thursday night he’s woken up by Emily sneaking into his room, the soft click of a glass of water being sat down on his nightstand and the clatter of pills finding their way beside it. She presses her fist into his sternum, applying pressure where he feels like he’s coming unraveled. It’s like her hands are grasping his strayed ends, holding him together like a shredded kite until she can pull the fabric halves back together. “Okay,” she breathes, failing to provide him with steeled calm. His heart is beating so hard against her hand she’s afraid to let go. Her understanding of medicine is narrowed to just knowing you’re not supposed to put a bandaid on a burn. Kids can still have heart attacks, maybe not the over-worked, a little heavy-set dad kind caused by blocked arteries but he’s got the stress level and something certainly isn’t right.
He wakes up alone, doesn’t remember when she left or if she came at all. His only clue is those pills sitting in the perspiration of the now lukewarm water on his nightstand. He can’t move just yet, force his hand out to obtain the pills but he’ll wake up again in a pain-filled haze moved only by such intense pain that he fears sitting still another moment will rip him in half. The pills are slimy as they sit on his tongue and leave their bitter medicine laced into the gulp of water he manages. He’ll turn back over onto his side, pull his knees to his chest, and hope he doesn’t throw them back up.
He writes an essay in the haze of the Rizatriptan six hours later. His brain is only half-working, thoughts jumbled together or not there at all. The migraine lingers, fingers made of cotton muffling the world in a spirling nothing. It’s a similar feeling to being high, the haze is just too much but he has to write this paper because his professor won’t give him another extension -- he would if he knew Aaron needed one but he’s already asked once so he won’t do it again.
Friday the panic sets in.
Everyone is watching him.
Nobody likes him.
Why is he here?
Starfished out on a picnic blanket, Emily is spending her Friday out of the apartment. Armed with a water bottle filled with Vodka, a quilt, and a cooler full of popsicles they stumble their way through the unplowed field behind campus. Spencer hates the bugs and he holds tightly to Emily’s belt, making sure to step where she does as they trample through the too-high grass. Like broken dolls, they fall onto the quilt, familiar with one another enough not to care how they land in the tangle of limbs.
She hums, not opening her eyes. The sun will remain stubbornly risen for a few more minutes and until it sets she’s trying to soak in every second of its warmth. Until it falls behind the trees and they’re bathed in the moonlight.
“Do you want a drink?”
She opens her hand, holding it up in the general direction of Derek’s voice. The water bottle finds her palm, slightly warm from sitting in the sun and in their laps as it makes its rounds. It feels oddly light but she doesn’t comment. The vodka stings down her throat but it’s familiar and it’s nearly as warm as the sun itself falling down her body.
She passes it to Penelope before laying back down, closing her eyes. “His psychiatrist put him on -” suddenly she can’t remember what it’s called. “Clom-something --”
Spencer looks up, understands this is a place for him to jump in. He feels overwhelmed with his excitement as he helpfully adds, “clomipramine! It’s a selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor, SSRI is the short-hand. It increases levels of serotonin in the brain.” He shifts himself, turning closer to them and away from where he’d been watching the blanket's edge for potential bugs trying to crawl near him. “It has the same side-effects as most SSRIs: drowsiness, intestinal upsets, decreased libido, changes in appetite--”
“Woah!” Derek sits up, suddenly paying attention. His eyebrows are scrunched together, alarmed. “He can’t… He won’t be able to like get it up?” He looks at Spencer and then at Emily. “That’s what libido means, man. How’s not being able to have sex going to help him not get all… gummed in the gears? Stuck in his head?” Aaron’s having a hard enough time, it hardly feels like ruining his sex life is the solution to that.
Spencer shakes his head, trying to understand how they’ve moved from facts about antidepressants to Hotch’s sex drive. “What?” If he took a second to think about it, he’d be blushing too hard to even bother with that statement. “No, the brain--”
“Spence,” Emily warns softly. Hotch might not be here to stop them from talking about his sex life but she is and she doesn’t want to talk about it. Besides, it’s none of their business. They’ve seen how bad things can get. “Hotch is basically a nun,” she reminds them. And it’s true. Before anyone diagnosed him, before he even knew something was wrong he wasn’t nearly as adventurous as her or Derek. “He didn’t come today because despite the--” she motions at Spencer.
“The clomipramine,” he supplies.
“Yes, the that, it doesn't work. He has a new psychiatrist, though, and he wants to run through some old stuff again.” She shakes her head, “a stronger dosage and a better plan. I don’t know, I guess we’ll know in another month. He’ll either end up in the hospital again or he’ll be fine.” She shrugs, “right now he’s locked himself in his room.”
There’s a low murmur of understanding and Spencer’s eyes go back to the edge of the blanket. They all remember what happened the last time he had to change medications. Emily had called JJ, the dead of the night making their intensely private and scary conversation seeping with the darkness’s own mixed intensities. Aaron had taken some bad drugs from a guy he didn’t even know, stumbled home, and passed out in his and Emily’s apartment bathroom. Where she found him seizing, choking on his vomit.
They didn’t and couldn’t see him for seventy-two hours, the mandatory hold from the hospital because they ruled it an attempted suicide and Aaron didn’t even try to put up a fight and say it was something else.
Friday night when she stumbles home he isn’t there.
His room is empty -- bedsheets are thrown back as if he left in a rush and his desk lamp still on. She feels that fear sink back into her, throat tight and mind racing, but the bathroom door is open, his pills still meticulously organized in the cabinet over the sink. Even his toothbrush is in the dish. So wherever he is, he won’t be gone long. She stills warns the others, asks them to look out for him or to, at the very least, expect his imminent arrival.
Derek offers to drive around and look for him.
Emily lets him do it, give him something to do -- he would have done it even if she told him it was unnecessary. She’s fairly certain she knows where he is.
Sure enough, she gets the call Monday morning at 7:30.
He does this every once in a while. As often as he can without them enforcing a longer hold, without it going on some sort of record that might prohibit getting a job. She doesn’t really understand why. He hates the mental hospital. Complains that it’s freezing cold and he hates the entire function and yet, here she is spending her Monday morning picking him up. This makes only about the fourth time since she’s known him but how many times has he just made the decision to walk? How many times hasn’t he called her to pick him up?
“You have got to stop walking here.” She rolls the window down first, shouting out at him as she pulls to a stop. He looks better than he had Friday morning when she invited him out to the field with the rest of them. She’d barely managed to get him to sit up, feeding pills between his pale lips, and then pulling his blanket back up over his shoulders. Shutting the blinds and leaving him a glass of water. Maybe she should have just offered to take him then, she’d known with hindsight this is where he would be.
He opens the backdoor without saying a word, crawls into the backseat, and curls up across the seats. He’s wearing a sweatshirt they must have given him, shoes not even on just held by the tips of his curled fingers. They land with a thud on the floor and all the response she gets is a pair of grippy socks landing on her passenger seat, the wordless thanks for picking him up… again.
“Class or home?” she asks, pulling out of the parking lot.
She did bring his bookbag with her, it’s sitting on the floor beside her own, but she will not be taking him to class. He recognizes that when she pulls out of the exit when she turns left instead of right. He grunts but doesn’t say anything, opting to curl further into himself. Protecting his head from an unseen threat.
The rest is practice. He’s foggy from the medicine they give him, always something different from what he’s taken. It’s meant to bring him down, strengthen his haze, and keep him calm. To shut his mind up -- and it’s good, it really does work. It just makes him so exhausted.
“Get your big butt--” Emily has to help him get into his bed and just as he’s about to apologize -- mouth hung open and his eyes squinting as he tries to force sluggish thoughts through a brain that hasn’t worked in days -- she climbs up after him.
His head hits the pillow and his mind goes blank, can’t even form the “I’m sorry” trying to trip its way out of his mouth.
Within seconds she’s laying down beside him, wiggling down under the covers and pulling them up over them. “Derek was pretty pissed you left again without telling us,” she whispers. It takes her a moment but she leans back up and pulls the blinds down, shuts the light from outside from coming in. Then she’s right back beside him, head on his chest. “You’ve got to stop doing that, Aaron. It’s-- It’s--” cruel.
Breathlessly he whispers, “sorry.” It’s all he can manage, drugs still heavy in his bloodstream and eyes forced shut, to move his hand to her back. To try and convey more than what he’s capable of with words that he didn’t mean to scare her. He just scared himself.
She turns her face into his sweatshirt and lets out a little sob, holding onto him. “I think I’m going to break up with Eric.” She’d come up with a thousand reasons Aaron would have disappeared, even as logic dictated where she knew he was. Her fear covered everything until she was sat wondering if she was making things worse for Aaron. His anxiety and migraines and everything else. Was she adding to his stresses or helping?
Coming home and having to ask him to relive parts of his childhood for her… Having him dab foundation over her bruises with his tremoring hands knowing he was thinking about his mother. That he was thinking about doing this exact exercise on himself, covering bruises his father left across his own face. Dabbing blood away and whispering empty, useless promises.
“Okay,” he whispers.
His mother had offered him that same lie a thousand times. She’d drawn lines in the sand and washed them away the next morning with the reconstruction of a wave -- thin cold fingers touching a bruise and asking what happened. As if she hadn’t watched. As if she hadn’t picked him up off the floor and hidden him away in his room, draping her body over his.
“I mean it,” she whispers, her tone mixed with conviction she doesn’t have.
“I know.” He’ll pretend to not remember this conversation when she goes bar crawling with Eric Thursday night. He’ll avoid the other’s eyes when they look at him for some sort of explanation, why she’s taken by her promise this time. But for now, he’s tired and he’s warm and he feels safe. He’ll call Spencer and Penelope later and apologize for blowing off the plans they had to watch Doctor Who, act like they all don’t know where he’s been.
“I love you.”
He squeezes her hips, gives in to his exhaustion. “I love you too.”
REDACTED verse - The aloof Bombay & wounded Border Collie
Summary: They say you are what you are in the dark. So you prove just who you are when there's only you and Frederick in a dark house, with no one else around.
TW: [Swearing], [Profanity], [Angst with a happy ending] & [Mild panic attack]
So, first thing first, a little backstory about this oneshot. I had already written out the first scene a week before Redacted announced the discontinuation of Frederick & Bright Eyes series. Although he mentioned that it’s fine to continue on writing headcanons about the two, I was hesitant to continue writing this fic.
But I’ve been missing them terribly so I sat my ass down and finally completed it! Yay! Fred & Bright Eyes had one of the most interesting dynamics in this fandom so I wanted to give it a go based on my headcanons of them.
There's a strange sort of energy hovering around Vincent and Sam lately.
It's not subtle either. Its anxiety, stress and uncertainty all roll together into a heavily dense fog that makes you itches under the skin.
This has been going on for days now.
Vincent constantly has thick textbooks with him whenever he comes over to Sam's place. They would exchange short pleasantries before Sam hurried off to his Werewolf beau (it's sort of funny the first time Sam returns home, and you spotted courses of wolf's hair stuck onto the hem of his clothes and jeans. You figured that this man's main hobby was tussling with Wolves, but when Sam would sneak back into his own fucking house like a teenager, it wasn't hard to put two-and-two together). Vincent would then make sure that you and Frederick are fed, settled in for the night before he completely ignores the two of you in favour of his school work.
As if the two of you are a pair to toddlers. You'd laugh if it didn't annoy you.
Fred, ever the gentle sweetheart, attempted to make small talks at first. Tentatively asking if he's stressed out over exams and if there's anything he could do to help - the result was expected. With pen in hand, notebooks and the two hundred and one pages depicting the foundations of magical healing, Vincent rather absentmindedly shooed him away.
Sam is arguably the worst. Ever since he stepped outside of the house during their crash course of the Empowered creatures in Dahlia to answer a phone call, he returns with lines on his forehead and shoulders tensed as hell.
Their impromptu lesson ended just like that when another Clan member had to babysit the two of you after Sam stormed out of the house.
You don't know whether they realise how taunt their strings have been, and you don't really care, honestly. Just curious; you're pretty confident that something big will happen soon.
At least there's something exciting to look forward to other than Sam's disapproving frowns and Fred's frustrated attempts at making you bear your heart and guts out.
And something big will happen soon. Apparently, there's something equivalent to a magical Olympics that occurs every year called the Elemental & Energetic Games, and this year, the local supernatural academy would be the one hosting it in Dahlia. Interesting.
Speaking of which, you could hear Vincent talking to his lover outside your bedroom through his phone. "Sam's on the way... yeah, he just texted me." A short pause. "Yeah, I can do that. Hey, hey, Lovely - listen to me. Everything's going to be alright. You've been practising non-stop for the Games. You deserve a special night for a change. So here's what we're going to do: I'll pick up some of that blueberry pie you love so much on the way back, we'll watch some movies after dinner and then have an early night so you'll feel better tomorrow. Sounds good? Nice. Oh wait - I think I can hear Sam outside. See you in a little bit. Love you too, Lovely."
You tune the outside world after that. It makes sense now why Vincent was stressed out; he's busy playing the good boyfriend.
With a tired sigh, you try your best to occupy your mind. It's three hours to midnight, but to Vampires, that's practically early morning, and you're already so bored. You don't want to step out of your little sanctuary if it means having to deal with Sam, Vincent and Fred tonight.
Or ever. Forever sounds good.
Not knowing what else to do, you pushed yourself out of bed and padded towards the window sill. The cool night air greets you as well as the trees and shadows that stretch on for miles. Once you and Fred were officially brought under Sam's care as his Progenies, you quickly realise that his house is located on the outskirts of Dahlia. Where the forests sprawl behind the abode and the city lights are just far enough not to pollute the night sky.
A perfect place to raise a pair of unplanned Newborn Vampires. You conclude that either Sam enjoys living by himself in a secluded property or that this house was given to him by Mr. Solaire.
Either way, you would've love to sneak out and explore the forest if it weren't for the magical wards that Sam had warned the two of you. The moment you or Fred steps out of the immediate area, Sam would know right away that one of them disobeyed his rules.
So despite the pleasant night air, there's a strum of anxiety and restlessness stirring within you. Is it because of Sam's recent behaviours or the upcoming Games? You can't tell, not when no one is bothered enough to tell you what's going on.
You take a deep breath and take your sweet time to exhale the air out. There's no use in working yourself up; not when you just need to get through this Newborn phase. It's better to think of the future.
And that bastard's mangled corpse at your feet.
"You should've listened to your friend, little mouse."
Ironically, the monster's voice is the only thing keeping you sane during this whole happy house facade that Sam and Frederick insist on playing. Late-night fantasies of ripping that smug's asshole to pieces are the only thing that keeps you going, sad as it is.
It's not revenge; it's justice. It's your atonement for hurting Frederick. What good would apologies serve when you can present that monster's head to him? You're not deluded enough to play the victim; you're the reason why the two of you are the way you are now, but you'll be damn if you admit that to Sam.
Sam's already blamed you for what happened to Fred. Even if he never says it. His lingering glances and furrowed brows are telling enough. There's no need to give him more ammunition against you.
You breathe in and out again; willing yourself to calm down. So you start to distract yourself by planning to gather enough money and resources to leave the Clan once Mr. Solaire deems that you're safe to be on your own and to others. His kind smile and knowing eyes should've made you uncomfortable, but all you can feel is genuine compassion and understanding coming from that ancient Vampire King.
So. Priorities: Passing the Newborn period, gather enough money, clothes and anything else that's important, thank Mr. Solaire for taking you into his Clan, and if it's not too presumptuous, ask him to continue to care for Fred.
A knock on the door startles you from your train of thoughts, but you keep your gaze on the dark forest laid before you.
You heard the door creak as it slowly swings open and then, "Bright Eyes? Is... Is everything ok?"
It's Fred. Of course, it would be Fred.
"Mm-hmm." You reply absentmindedly. You didn't even have to look at him to know that he doesn't believe your bullshit. And him being your Sire makes it impossible to lie to him, so you often gives out vague responses.
Most of these days, your interactions with him are curt, with doubt thrown into the mix. Fred is hesitant to press you when you brush away his questions, and in return, you hide as often as possible so you wouldn't step on any emotional landmines in this house.
"Are you sure? Because I can kind of sense that you're upset..." Fred said after a brief moment of hesitation. Ah, it's going to be one of those nights.
The bond between a Sire and his Progeny once again proves to be a fucking nuisance. Not only could you not lie to Fred, but he could also sense phantom emotions coming from you. So much for privacy.
"It's fine, Fred. I was just thinking." There. Not a lie but not the total truth either.
"O-Oh." From the doorway, Fred bit his lower lip. Why is it getting harder and harder to approach Bright Eyes nowadays? He hates this distance between them. He hates how they rarely left their room.
He hates how it feels like he's losing his friend as the days go by.
"Do you, uh, maybe want to play a game or something? Vincent hooked up a Playstation 5 before he left. I think he also left some video games - "
"I'm not in the mood to play tonight, Fred. Maybe tomorrow."
Fred sighs at the clear dismissal. It honestly hurt; Bright Eyes constant rebuff is getting sharper and sharper. Without another word, Fred left Bright Eyes to their thoughts.
As usual, nothing is absolved tonight.
It's a boring rainy Wednesday night. The gentle pitter-patter of raindrops against the shutters promises an incoming storm when you hear the sound of rumbling thunders approaching the city from a distance.
Tonight, Vincent is too busy at D.A.M.N to babysit you and Fred. Sam already left the house an hour after the sun had set with his usual instructions not to go beyond the wards and that a Clan member would be coming over to supervise them.
Why does this feel like you and Fred are the unwanted children from a divorced couple? Oh well, all the more reason to leave the clan ASAP.
You plan to brood in your room as usual after draining your share of the blood bags in the fridge. However, the moment you take three steps out of the kitchen, lightning flashes across the sky.
The power trip, hurtling the entire house into total darkness.
"The circuit breaker," You murmur, inhumane eyes quickly adjusting to the darkness as you look around the area in 4K HD. "Did Sam ever mentioned where it was?" You tried to recall the house's layout from Sam's words alone, but you tend to tune out his voice whenever he speaks more than twenty minutes. So it looks like you better start from the basement.
Just when you're about to head downstairs, a whimper froze you. You tilt your head towards one of the bedrooms.
The sound is coming from Fred's.
You stood your ground for only a few seconds of hesitation before you quietly approached his bedroom and slowly opened the door as to not startle him — concern creeping into your heart.
Just like the rest of the house, Fred's bedroom is completely dark. Lightning flashed once more to illuminate Fred's huddled figure on the floor near the window. He's breathing very hard and rapidly with his head in between his knees.
Your heart twisted into a knot at the sight of a frightened Fred, and you couldn't help but wonder if this is how he looked like when that monster hurt him.
You forcefully put that thought away. You're horrible with words, but there's one way you can still comfort him.
Fred's breath hitches when your back lean against his. "B-Bright Eyes?" He calls out with a choked sob, head slightly raised in surprise.
When you said nothing, Fred let out a ragged sigh. "What are you doing here? I thought you couldn't stand the sight of me."
You blink and turn your head to give him a side-eye. Say what?
"Don't give me that l-look." Fred snaps after a sniffle. "You could hardly look at my face lately, and you only leave your bedroom whenever you have to eat. If it weren't for that, you'd happily pretend that Sam and I don't even exist."
"That's because whenever I'm around, you keep wanting to talk about Wonderworld, and Sam keeps shooting me looks as if I'm a shitstain underneath his fucking boots." You shoot back reflexively.
Much to the surprise of absolutely no one, your words upset Fred even further. "You can't talk about Sam like that! He's been nothing but kind to us. To you and you just - "
"He blames me for what happened to you!" Fred can't be this oblivious, can he?
Behind you, Fred went stiff.
"You're his Progeny, and I'm the deadweight that he's stuck with because you Turned me. He knows it, Vincent knows it. Fuck it, everyone in the Clan knows it! So why should I give a damn when I'm unwanted? And that's alright! That's totally alright! You want to know why that's alright, Freddy?" Lightning split the night sky. A rather powerful thunder shakes the house, but at this moment, nothing exists except for you, Fred and the tension that has been brewing between the two of you the moment your humanities were forfeit.
"I'm not planning to stay here any longer than I have to! The moment Mr. Solaire give us the green light, I'm out of Dahlia! Buh-bye! You and Sam can do whatever the fuck you want, but I don't want to stay in this city any longer! I don't have anything left here!"
Silence enveloped the bedroom. What are you even doing here? Why did you even think you could comfort Fred when all you've been doing is hurting him. Even now! This was a mistake. You should've -
"I was right. I'm losing you too..."
Fred tucks his head in between legs tighter as if he's trying to hide from the world. "I think I always knew that you were going to leave me when you started to pull away from everyone. That's why I wanted us to talk about that Halloween night so badly." His voice is ragged, tears stream down his face. "Y-You said that you don't have anything left in Dahlia, but... you're all that I have left and if you leave... I..." Fred sighed and quietly continued, "I thought I was your friend. I thought I meant something to you."
"I've hurt you." You reply, just as quietly. "I've been hurting you since Wonderworld, and even tonight, I'm hurting you. I didn't listen to you that night, and because of it, we're here. You lost your family, friends and future and for that I'm... I'm so sorry, Fred. You didn't deserve anything that happened to you."
"Thank you, Bright Eyes. I-I needed to hear that." Fred reply. When he reaches for your hand, you squeeze it back. "What happened was... fucked up, but none of us knew about that Vampire. Or that Vampires actually exist. So it's stupid of me to blame you for our d-deaths."
"But I didn't listen - "
"Yes, you didn't listen but will you listen to what I have to say now, Bright Eyes? Please? I want us to move on from this together. I want us to be better."
Perhaps it's how raw and near begging Fred sounds that both of your walls are down tonight. Perhaps, tonight, you finally realise that it's you that doesn't like confrontations and that despite Fred's gentle and reserved nature, he has no problem mending the wounds between the two of you with force if he has to. Huh, who could've thought?
The two of you talk for hours in the darkness. It feels so awkward to bear your heart to Fred after everything, but to your immense surprise and relief, he listens to you patiently, and once you're done, he let you into his heart. All the fears, insecurities, regrets, shame and horror are laid between you and together, you address them one by one until the storm lets up.
And when the silver light of the moon peeking through heavy clouds, you found yourself snuggling with Fred on his bed. Your head tucks into the crook of his neck while Fred's arm is around you. It's strange how lighter your heart is now.
"Have you stop crying already?" You ask, wondering if you'd need to run to the kitchen to make a simple bag of ice for Fred's red, puffy eyes before they swelled.
Fred snort. He sniffles and squeezes your body in assurance. Being slightly taller than you, it feels sort of nice to be held like this. Despite their heartfelt conversation and confessions, the trauma they both carry is still fresh, but now, it doesn't feel like an overwhelming miasma threatening to drown you in guilt and sorrow. "Yeah, yeah. I'm alright now. It feels good to finally cry after... after everything."
"Can't relate." You bluntly interject. "I usually get pissed off after a crying session."
"I can actually believe that." Fred giggles. "I'm beginning to understand you a lot better, Bright Eyes. Thank you for listening; I know that words are hard for you, so I'm very grateful that you want to work things out as much as I do."
Outside, the rain has become a gentle drizzle, and the stars ushered a bright full moon. It's too lovely of a night to brood; you might as well take a nap with Fred.
"Bright Eyes?" Fred suddenly speaks up, bringing you out of your sleepy haze.
"Do you... I mean... are you still planning to leave Dahlia?" His voice returns to its timid and hesitant state.
"Well... yeah. After our - urgh - mushy talk, I realise it's all the more reason I need to do it. You're the only thing I have left in this city after all."
"You want to leave me despite just saying that all you have is me? Uh, I don't... don't get it. Can you please explain it to me, Bright Eyes?"
You hold back a groan. It looks like Fred has discovered the magic of 'please' and your weakness to it. "I'm planning to kill the Vampire who killed us and use his skull as my apology gift to you."
Unlike you, Fred groans in disbelieve. You yelp when he manoeuvres you so your body can lie on top of his and trap you in his arms. "No... Bright Eyes, no... no hunting that asshole, OK? You don't need to give me a skull; just stay here with me. Skulls are gross anyway." He whines like a needy toddler, which, surprisingly, makes you feel fond instead of irritated.
So you roll your eyes and press your face into Fred's chest. Perhaps you can try to convince Fred to leave with you in the future, but for now, nothing matters but the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest and the faint scent of wet grass outside.
They're going to be alright.
Sick - Tanaka x reader
Summary: You and your neighbor walk your dogs at the same everyday, but what happens when he stops showing up
A/n :! I am so so so so sorry for disappearing off the face of the earth, college is hard man and then it’s partially online and COVID and things and the depression really hit and I have started a new self care book and it is adding one thing back in my life at a time that I am passionate about and last week was French and this week it is writing because I really do miss it! I threw this together last night based off of a request I got forever ago and I hope it is liked <3
You’ve lived in the same apartment for years and people always come and go, in and out, it feels like you see a new face everyday. In your three years there, you’ve only had one consistent fact, and that’s your bald neighbor who goes on walks with his dogs at the same time as you twice a day. At first you only saw him occasionally and now the two of you go out at 7:30 am and 6:30 pm on the dot. You have no idea how it started but now you get kinda excited to run into your neighbor on the stairs everyday and hopefully make a comment about how good his two big dogs are looking or even jsut the smallest acknowledgement with him.
Speaking of your neighbor, he wasn’t out this morning before work, and you didn’t think too much of it because he works kinda funny hours and some random days misses the times. (Though he always tells you about it in the afternoon or the next time you see him) and because you’ve learned he’s a personal trainer he has finicky clients and sometimes is up wayy too early or way too late. It bugged you all day that you hadn’t seen him and no matter how hard you tried to focus at work you couldn’t imagine why he wasn’t out on a Wednesday. All of your explainations could make sense but you really don’t feel right about any of it. And when you got home and took your two babies out and he wasn’t there you were sure something was up. Tanaka loved his dogs more than anything and says that their routine keeps them together and that it keeps them well behaved. Something had to be wrong. Maybe he got a new girlfriend? Or he forgot? But he didn't forget and he hasn’t been with anyone ever, and if he was his dogs would still come first. You had no idea what you were thinking but when you came back up the stairs you kept walking and knocked on the door of the man you knew so completely and not at all. You quickly realized what you’d done and your heart was racing as you silent prayed that no one was home and that you could creep back to your door before anyone heard you.
This was a great thought, except you forgot what happens when you knock with dogs. They bark. And unfortunately for you Tanaka doesn’t get a lot of guests so his dogs barked a lot. Like they could wake the entire neighborhood a lot. You had to grin and bear it and face the consequences of your irrational actions.
After thirty or so seconds the door creeps open and there he is, Takana Ryuunosuke, in his pajamas and a beanie opening the door. He looked like a walking corpse and by the way he sniffed out a weak “hello” as he opened the door told you everything you needed to know. He was sick. Very sick, and you had just knocked at the door and now have to figure out what to say to him.
“Oh, hey,” you stutter, “I was just checking on you to see if everything was alright, you weren’t out with your dogs and I was wondering if anything was up, or if you needed me to take them out for you because of their routine and everything,” you ramble on, hoping that somewhere your logic connected and this made sense.
Takana stared at you blankly and you couldn’t help but mentally smack yourself because that was exactly what a stalker would say and you now seemed like his stalker.
After a few more seconds of blank stares his expression caught up to your words and he broke out the goofy smile you love so much.
“My dogs? Walk them?” He asked. Maybe they hadn’t caught up after all.
“Well yeah, they weren’t out at their regular time and i wanted to make sure they were still going out and I have my two out and they are so well behaved and you clearly don’t feel well so it would really be no problem,” you rambled on again.
This time he was closely listening and nodded along with you before smiling once again. “No no no,” he chuckled, “ I can take them out” though he was laughing you could hear that he wasn’t feeling well and his energy was lower than you had ever heard.
“Let me do this one favor for you, I can take them out, no big deal, okay?” You smiled.
After you smiled it was a done deal for Tanaka, he grabbed the leash and thanked you about a hundred times. His dogs are fantastic and took you less than five minutes to walk before they’d used the restroom and were ready to go back inside. You took them back and he thanked you once again and you headed back to your apartment to make some dinner.
You settled on a sun dried tomato soup with grilled cheese and happened *wink* accidentally *wink* make more than you could eat on your own and you’d hate for it to go to waste and you do have a neighbor who is sick and could probably use a hot meal right about now. So, you packed up a container for him and wrapped the sandwich in aluminum foil so that it would be hot for him and put some tea in a thermos and headed out your door once more. This time though, you were a little less bold and just rang the doorbell and ran back to your room. You did however, leave a little note saying “hope you feel better soon - room 420” on it and you hoped that it would at least help his night a little bit.
Little do you know, Tanaka was so shocked to see this from you that he almost dropped the hot soup onto himself in a panic because this not only meant you paid attention to him but you cared for him. This was the best thing to ever happen to him. He finished every last bite and washed the container and thermos and placed them back by your door with a note of his own.
When you got up the next morning and went to take your dog out you couldn’t help but beam when you saw your tupperware back in front of your door. You picked up the two items before seeing the little note on top of the container.
‘Best Soup Ever! -Room 419’
You beamed and did a little happy dance before deciding to go knock and see if he needed your help with his dogs again today, and boy are you lucky that you went. WHen he opened the door he somehow looked worse than yesterday, you could have swore that he had snot dried to his face and he was a total mouth breather and the bags under his eyes as well as tripled overnight. There were no arguments when you asked if he needed help with his dogs, because truthfully he really did.
The walk was quick and the morning was over before you knew it. Another distracted day at work, you found yourself wondering how you could help him feel better, especially because he lived all alone and his closest family was something like an hour away last he told you.
You had a brilliant idea and decided to go to the store after work and make him a ‘get well’ basket. You filled the basket with cough drops, tissues, teas, chocolates and other little goodies that help him feel better and put him in a better mood. You got the groceries and were right on your way, practically skipping with excitement.
Once again, you accidentally made an extra soup after you’d taken care of the dogs and happened to leave it with the basket later that evening.
In the morning however, none of your dishes were by your door, which was no big deal, especially because he was feeling so under the weather, but what was even more strange is that he didn’t answer the door and the last thing you wanted to do was wake him up. So, you headed to work wondering if he liked what you did for him or if you’d crossed a line or if he was allergic to chicken noodle, or if he was too much of a health nut and you’d offended him, or if he’d… you had no idea, maybe died. This was not good for you and you could feel the stress starting to get to you when you got off work the sprint back home was exhausting and anxious. You rounded the corner of the stairs when you saw
You saw nothing.
That was fine, everything is fine. You are fine. Life is fine. If he doesn’t feel good you can’t expect him to do dishes or even leave his room. That’s best for everyone, no one wants a walking germ contaminating everything around, there were probably old ladies on this floor, you hadn’t seen any, but they were there, probably, so he was just doing the world a favor.
Again, he didnt answer the door for his dogs and you couldn’t force your kindness onto him so you had a night to yourself and went to bed way earlier than usual. You couldn’t help but wake up earlier than usual and instead of looking for things that weren’t there you got out and went to work early and got busy right away. You had a full day and worked until almost 8pm, hurrying back to hopefully get home before your local take away had closed. You made it, but just barely, and got your favorite meal to bring home with you to watch something horrible with.
You got home and plopped on the couch completely exhausted. Immediatley you started eating and got about halfway through when you heard a knock at the door. Oh shit. You had no one in your life that would ever knock, well almost no one. THere was one person you were really hoping wasn’t on the other side of the door. You were in a t-shirt you got 10 years ago and a pair of crappy shorts from the general store, there was nothing remotely nice, or even tame about your appearance, you looked to be frank, crazy.
You creeped the door open and saw exactly who you were hoping not to see, Tanaka Ryuunosuke standing in front of your door beaming.
“Hey?” You question nervously.
“Hey, I noticed that you didn’t take your dogs out earlier and was wondering if you needed me to take them out for you?” He questioned genuinely, smiling from head to toe, clearly feeling better.
You had no idea what to say or do but he just smiled as your dogs trotted out the door with him, without you saying a word. You awkwardly closed the door and stood there in shock. That was horrible. An embarrassment to you, an embarrassment to your family name and even worse an embarrassment to society. The shock still hadn’t worn off when you heard a second knock at your door, and well that was the man with your dogs and you couldn’t just leave them outside.
This time when you opened the door you couldn’t help but gasp. Tanaka has a giant bouquet of red roses and a giant blush on his face.
“Y/n, I know this is going to sound ridiculous, but I have had a crush on you since I first met you, and I never knew how to tell you, every time I got close to you I just freeze and I started taking my dogs out when you do to try and get to know you and I could never make myself do it but you have been unbelievably kind to me and I can’t wait any longer. I want nothing more than to have a chance with someone as stunning as you are. Y/n, will you go on a date with me?”
This time it was you standing there dumbstruck for longer than you should have. You heard every single one of his words and your heart was fluttering out of your chest. You’d had feelings for him for as long as you can remember and here he was with a bouquet of flowers standing in your doorway asking you to go on a date with him. You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything so you just grinned and nodded at him enthusiastically, hoping he understood just how much this means to you.
He beamed right back and handed you the bouquet of flowers, “perfect, then I’ll see you Friday at 7, I’ll pick you up.” He winked.
You were still dumbstruck and nodded again, and right as you were about to close the door for the night he stuck his foot in the doorway.
“One more thing y/n,” he pushed the door back open and had a basket of little goodies for you, as well as a homemade meal in the containers you’d given him with a little note that says ‘your soup warmed my soul, and my heart’. You couldn’t help but absolutely beam with happiness. You set the basket down and threw your arms around his shoulders and pulled him into a big hug, repeatedly thanking him for his kindness. You two parted ways happier than you could have imagined and both in great anticipation for Friday.
The next morning, you were both out at 7:30 on the dot, excited to see one another.