#with any luck the next update should be right around the corner | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

andreafmn · 2 years

Text

12 Days of Ficmas - Day 7

Prompt (by @12-days-of-ficmas): anonymous donor pays for the kids at your nonprofit to have a perfect christmas wait this handwriting looks familiar

Word Count: 2.2K

Story Description: (Y/N) has always worked tirelessly for the Heaven's Care Foundation to provide orphaned children and at-risk youth with a safe place to be. But working in a nonprofit is hard, and trying to give hundreds of children a Christmas to remember even more. Unless an anonymous donor changes everything.

Fandom: Twilight

Pairing: Carlisle Cullen x Female!Reader

A/N: i may or may not be working on another part for this fic, be on the lookout 🫣 and to any of my Speak fans, I will be updating sooon 😬

Follow 😊 -> TikTok • Instagram • Business

If you’d like to be tagged in 12 days of ficmas, let me know in the comments.

For any other story: click here

Here’s the 12 days of Ficmas schedule: click me

<- Previous | Next ->

Christmas Miracles Come in Attractive Packages

Working at a nonprofit was hard enough. Working at a nonprofit for kids during Christmas was close to impossible. Especially when the organization couldn’t provide to give them a proper celebration.

(Y/N) was doing all she could to give them a good Christmas day, filled with presents, good food, fun, and games. But there simply wasn’t enough to give them that. Sure there had been some monetary donations, some toys, and food too, but nowhere near enough to provide for every one of them.

She canvassed, she petitioned, and she even put some of her own money. But it wasn’t near enough. It was never near enough when unforeseeable things always seemed to happen, one right after the other. Still, she didn’t give up. There was no way she could.

That day she was out leaving flyers in hospitals, local cafes, and any place that would take a piece of paper. If more people knew of the foundation, maybe then she could have a miracle — the kids could have their miracle.

“Hi there! My name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and I work with the Heaven’s Care Foundation,” she told the nurse at the front desk of the Cayuga Medical Center. “I was wondering if I could leave some flyers here. We are trying to give the kids an unforgettable Christmas and need all types of donations. So we’re hoping to appeal to the hearts of everyone in Ithaca to hopefully be able to give them that.”

“Well then, go ahead, honey,” the nurse smiled. “There are bulletin boards on every floor and you can leave some on each nurse’s desk.”

She took some flyers from the box she was holding and put them on the counter. “Thank you so much,” she said. “I’ll leave these here then.”

“Alright, honey, I’ll let the other floors know you’re going up,” the woman smiled once again. “Good luck and Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.”

(Y/N) took the box back into her hands and headed for the elevators. The hospital was rather empty, only the night shift staff left roaming the hallways and a few patient companions. She had spent the whole day driving around the area, stopping at any place that looked even the least bit crowded.

As she rounded the corner into the elevator area, she collided with someone, sending the box of papers flying through the air and onto the floor. It was a mess of papers and folders. And (Y/N) couldn’t help the embarrassment that washed over her.

“I’m so sorry,” she said as she scrambled to gather the flyers closest to her. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“I am the one who should be apologizing,” a melodious voice responded. Somehow the owner of that voice was able to pick up every piece of paper that had flown away in the area. “Heaven’s Care Foundation?”

She finally looked up, meeting face-to-face with entrancing golden eyes. They were a quite peculiar amber color and they belonged to a man that was ten times as beautiful as his eyes.

“Uh, yes,” she finally snapped out of her trance. “It’s a nonprofit organization that cares for orphaned and at-risk children, providing them with food, shelter, and education. We’re currently asking for donations to give the kids a special Christmas. Although we still have our charity gala to go, we want to raise enough to also be able to provide the kids with better accommodations, learning supplies, and all that.”

“It sounds like quite an outstanding organization,” he smiled before writing something on a piece of paper and handing it to her. “I would love to hear more about it sometime.”

“Of course! That’d be great,” (Y/N) responded excitedly. They both started to walk away before she turned abruptly. “Uh, I’m (Y/N), by the way.”

“Carlisle Cullen,” he responded warmly. “Nice to meet you, (Y/N). I look forward to that call.”

“Likewise.”

After delivering the rest of the papers she had with her, she went home. As she lay in bed, thinking of other ways she could raise money for the foundation, pictures of Carlisle snuck into her head. He was an intriguing sight to behold. With his perfect blond hair, his honey-colored eyes, and his smooth and pale skin. But it wasn’t just his beauty that had piqued her interest.

There was something in the way he spoke, in the way he looked at her, how attentive he had been when she spoke to him. She looked at the paper he had given her with his name and phone number and studied the fine penmanship. It was as beautiful as he was, she thought.

“Who are you, Carlisle Cullen?”

As the morning light started to creep through the horizon two days later, (Y/N) was already on her way in to work. With a tray filled with coffee and a smile on her face, she entered the rehabilitated high school they had turned into the headquarters and living facilities of the organization.

She had been one of the founding members, giving almost all of her college savings to renovate the place. (Y/N) had always wanted to provide a place for children that had no other place to go where they felt safe, accepted, and cared for. And for the past ten years, she had been doing just that – with barely any money.

“Good morning, Maggie,” she smiled at the foundation’s receptionist, placing a coffee cup on her desk. “How have we done this past week?”

“Well, it’s been better than the last one,” she tried to sound hopeful. “But at the pace we’re going we’re gonna have enough for the bathroom repairs and the ceiling leaks. As for the Christmas party, it’s not looking too good.”

“Guess we’re gonna have to have some faith,” (Y/N) sighed, but tried to keep the smile on her face. “We still have the gala at the end of the week, so hopefully many rich people are feeling guilty for something this Christmas season.”

“That would require them to actually feel guilt,” Maggie chuckled. “But you’re right. We have to keep a good attitude about it. Anything can change in even just a couple of hours.”

(Y/N) went on with her day. She checked on the kids, and made necessary purchases to replenish food inventory, cleaning supplies, or any requests the kids or staff had made. Her day was so booked she barely had any time to eat her lunch. She had been stuck in her office with limited interactions, glued to her phone and her computer.

It was getting late at the point she finally decided to call it a day. The sun had gone down by then, the bustle of the still roaring and alive outside. She was finishing closing up her office when suddenly Maggie came in running, cheering excitedly.

“Mags, calm down,” (Y/N) laughed. “What’s got you all excited? Are you and Lila finally engaged?”

“Better than that.”

“What could be better than getting engaged to your girlfriend of six years?”

“We just received the most sizeable donation in our history,” she said. “It’s for ten million dollars, (Y/N).”

“You’re joking, right? It has to be a joke.”

“I can promise you it is not. I even called the bank. And even though they wouldn’t give me the person’s identity, they confirmed it was a real check,” she recalled joyfully. “(Y/N), this piece of paper means we can give the kids the Christmas many of them have never had and we can start on the repairs ahead of schedule.”

“And this is without what we will raise during the charity gala!” (Y/N) could not believe her eyes as she saw the amount of zeros after the ten written on the blue paper. “It’s our very own Christmas miracle.”

“It truly is, (Y/N). Whoever this person is, may their blessings be multiplied.”

“I’ll go to the bank early tomorrow morning and deposit this as soon as they open. I’ll call you when I’m done and I want you to start ordering what we’ll need for the party. Also, call up the maintenance company so we can start getting quotes for the repairs. This needs to be unforgettable for these kids. They deserve it.”

“They really do,” Maggie smiled.

That night when she got home, she studied the check. There was something familiar about the writing. It was an exact replica of the writing she had been studying the past two nights. (Y/N) knew exactly who the anonymous donor had been and she was already thinking of how she could thank him.

***

It was the end of the week and the gala was well underway at The Oncenter Complex. (Y/N) was surprised at the turnout. Sure, she was expecting a good enough number of guests but not to the amount that had RSVP’d during the week. It seemed like their organization had grown overnight.

But she had her suspicions on just who was responsible for the sudden increase in attention.

She gallivanted around the room, shaking hands with powerful and rich people, making herself and her name known amongst them. These were the people that could elevate the foundation to national standing, helping millions of children in need.

As her red dress swayed across the floor, her eyes fell upon the figure of the man she had been waiting the whole night for. Dressed in an outstanding white suit, Carlisle Cullen stood in the back of the room, nursing a glass of whiskey in his hand. Even if other guests were dressed in similar apparel, the man simply stood out amongst them.

She headed toward him, heat rushing to her face – and to her lower regions. He looked more handsome than the night she had met him. His hair was brushed back, his white suit perfectly form-fitting, and his golden eyes the perfect accessory to his ensemble.

“I’m glad you came, Carlisle,” (Y/N) announced herself with a bright smile on her face. “I’ve actually been looking forward to seeing you face-to-face once more. I’m…”

“(Y/N). I know,” he responded with a smile just as bright. “We met the other night and you brought this amazing foundation to my attention.”

“Yes, that’s correct,” she chuckled. “And correct me if I’m wrong, but I have you to thank for this surge of support as well as that anonymous ten-million-dollar donation.”

“How did you know?”

“You’ve just confirmed it. Truly, the lettering on the check was exactly like the one from the note you gave me. And someone that has that kind of money has influence and connections. I’m seeing them in play right now.”

“You are quite an insightful woman, (Y/N),” he grinned. “I simply made some calls to friends I believed would also admire the work you’re doing with Heaven’s Care. It’s completely on them how they wanted to help.”

“Well, I still have to thank you for your donation. You’re going to make hundreds of kids very happy this Christmas.” She smiled warmly at him, not being able to help herself from staring at those amber eyes. “Many of those children have never had a proper Christmas, let alone a safe and happy place to live in. You’re making that happen for them. I don’t know how I could ever thank you for this. You have changed many lives.”

"I’m only doing my part to give back to the community. At some point in time, someone changed my life too. Everyone deserves that chance, (Y/N). Especially children.”

“Your wife must be very proud of you.” She tested the waters. There was a ring on his finger, but it wasn’t exactly a traditional wedding ring. He wore a silver ring on his left hand, an interesting crest on it.

“I’m not married,” he chuckled. Carlisle followed (Y/N)’s eyeline and noticed her staring at her ring. “This is an heirloom ring. It has my family crest on it. Although, your partner should be proud of all the work you’ve been doing here. It truly is impressive.”

“I, uh, I’m single,” she grinned.

Before she could continue, Maggie came up from behind her. “(Y/N), it’s time for your speech,” she said. “Sorry to steal her away.”

“No worries,” Carlisle smiled. “Go ahead.”

“Give me a sec, Mags.” She left her friend and her colleague for a second and turned back to Carlisle. “Don’t leave, please. Find me after everything’s done. Okay?”

“Of course. I’ll be here.”

(Y/N) joined Maggie once more, her face growing red with warmth. Both women giggled at the situation and turned every few seconds to look back at the striking man that had gained (Y/N)’s full attention.

“Who is that Greek statue of a man, (Y/N)? A new suitor?”

“He’s the man who donated the money to the foundation and got all these people here.”

“What?” Maggie exclaimed. “Who is he?”

“That’s what I intend to find out, Mags. He just might turn into my Christmas present.”

And she had no idea just how right she was about it.

Part 2 (SMUT) ->

Taglist: @agent-annana @banterbanner @alitav99 @daniallh @catchmeupimgettingoutofhere @imaginetwilight2704 @mauvette268 @beefwhobarksandisalilmadalot @abelbai000 @ridiculous-creature @mikariell95 @gryffi-ndor @jules-bea2308 @comic-book-overload @winter-soldier-101 @jessicasunderground @mxyee @hey-you-therexo @witchy-obeyme-freak @xcastawayherosx @kortniec696 @slutforsainz @Blackbluerose666 @DyslexicCatterpillar @sunflowerleii @gypsymusiclover @byelannie @a-sifu-hotman @zheezs14 @minhaimaginação @bluebirbnamedJay @sirenheadenby @mushroomelephant @swidkid @skyesthebomb @user0ur0mom @nogitsune-the @cometstail @volturiwolf @locokoca @esposadomd @this-is-a-bad-idea @nocturnalherb16 @rosalie-whitlock @Nyctophilia710 @blueshoelaces @ems-alexandra @then-worship-at-my-altar @Six-Call @witchofhawkins @lovel-blog @sugajar @goodpeoplegotohellanyway @Yuki254 @avis15 @honeylovemoon @wonieeee @baebeepeach @catgirlpwr @krazyk99 @klf1999 @sl-ut @adaydreamaway08 @cinffy23 @toomanythoughts33 @sugasthreedollarkookie

390 notes · View notes

comraderomeo · 1 year

Text

Where Skin Ends Ch. 5

Updated Every Other Thursday (Unless I'm Busy And Post A Day Late)

links: ao3 masterpost

cw: none of note

You stumble back into your room, unsteady out of fatigue, which is welcome in a way. Your first stop is the bathroom, and on your way out, you splash water on your face. Still dripping, you look yourself in the mirror for a brief moment and smile. It's an insult in so many ways. You realize and stop smiling. Then, you strip down to the tank top and underwear you sleep in, the pile of unwashed clothes in the corner growing to slightly larger than is reasonable, but tomorrow you only have physical training in the morning, so you can shower and take care of laundry sometime later of course. There's not much else to consider. You already ate and gave up on hobbies ages ago. Or, should it be “hobby?” You wince at the thought and turn a fleeting glance to the rounded edge of a black case poking out from underneath your bed. No use in thinking about it now, your hands will just cramp from the memory and it'll take away from your sleep. So, you put your head to your thin pillow and call the day over. In the next half hour, you fade into that place between being awake and asleep.

Framed by evergreens, you pushed a worn Spider through an endless sea of forest. This was a clear memory, 3023, early in your tenure with the Silver Wing. You didn't even have Her yet. And, He was a fresh scar. You were here with the rest of Alpha Lance to do some diversionary work for a potential invasion of Hyde. “Get in, destroy some infrastructure, get out,” it was a standard assignment for a recon lance. Now, you were serving as the tip of the spear, assigned to spot and harrass for the rest as they advanced. You felt lucky the forest was dense, because in a rare display, you had remembered something from the briefing, and this power station had more firepower in its defense than your employer could afford to deploy. You were shaken from your rumination on the surprising cheapness of the Great Houses when a warning appeared on a screen to your bottom right. In amber, it said, “HtSk1 Lo Flow.” Your well-trained brain immediately translated it to, “low coolant flow in heat sink 1.” It wasn't a death sentence but really would be annoying in a few minutes. You turned your thoughts to the cheapness of mercenaries and shook your head as much as it could in the heavy neurohelmet. You tried to recycle it; no luck. The warning popped up after another second. A realization hit you then: the real risk here would be getting spotted through the trees on account of the higher heat. “When on Terra…” you muttered to yourself, as you flicked your view to thermal. Through the trees, you expected to make out the vague outline of the steam plumes rising into the atmosphere from the plant and a few ominous but obscured silhouettes of turrets sitting on the corners of the perimeter wall. However, there were only muted and blurry shapes beyond. It was unsettling, but perhaps it was just an atmospheric anomaly. It was nothing you couldn't correct for once you exited the forest.

A wide line of pure, white heat split your viewscreen into two neat halves.

The size and sheer power of the beam burned your eyes from the edges, as the light scrambled through the window and around the screen. The heat alarm blared; the Spider threatened to overheat from pure radiant energy. You tried to back it away, but the warning escalated to shutdown. You at least welcomed the blackness that saved your eyes from further damage. You rushed through the restart sequence while the light faded. By the time the outside view flickered back on, the light was dissipated, leaving only the stumps of trees buried into scorched earth and highlighted by fresh embers. By your expert tactical analysis, this was bad. No terrestrial directed energy weapon acted like this, it was closer to an act of some god. You scanned the area, looking for the source of this or any other hostiles. There were no machines of war to be seen, but so far that it strained your eyesight even with magnification, a silhouette stood on a hill. Maxing the heat sensors, She also burned bright white. You thumbed the trigger for your lasers in panic, but She turned and walked back over the hill before you could commit. The only thing left to do now was chase Her.

You tentatively accelerated toward the newly hewn end of the forest. You could smell the burning of flesh, even though the filtration system should have left you free of it. You smelled it and immediately turned to desperation, sending the Spider into a sprint. The left foot of the Spider crossed the threshold from the treeline into wasteland or a garden that always took your breath away, no matter how often you visited. Framed by elegant wooden arches painted a pristine white, planters lined a stone pathway. Each was filled with a small collection of complimentary flowers that most wouldn't even recognize as horribly exotic and equally expensive. You walked the Spider forward, taking in each small beauty. It took significant focus to determine the garden was massive such that the Spider was proportional to what a human visitor should be. Beyond the planters lay a sprawling display of local ferns and flowers, all arranged into a precisely formed layering of colour and artistry. There were benches along the paths that toured it where visitors or servants would often sit. They were empty. Peeking over the hill beyond the massive display, you could see the tops of the orchard trees –it always felt like they were spying on whomever visited. The Spider stomped along the serene path. You knew from stolen memory what to expect at the end of it: a small patio on a raised section of dirt. It was circular and a perfect vantage point. The sun was just beginning to set from its midday pinnacle, and the breeze turned the late spring warmth into a calming cool. You continued slowly now, ‘mech feet replaced with something more human. A bottle of wine fine enough to impress but modest enough for lunch was tucked under an arm and threatened to slip. I moved to adjust it with my free hand, but She caught my eye. I gasped. The bottle slipped. Crimson and glass splatter against the stone and my leg.

You sit up in your bed faster than you would even for a scramble. You're breathing heavily and put your head in your hands. Sweat makes your skin tacky. You try to remind yourself where you are, but find it hard. Your hand fumbles for the lamp switch and eventually finds it, proving to your panicked mind that you're in your temporary quarters on… You fail to find the name of the planet you've been stationed on somehow. The mind keeps flicking back to other things, and it's not as if you're known for your attentiveness, memory, or sobriety. Speaking of, you peer over the side of the bed, looking for some sign of drink. You're almost surprised to find none, having expected a hazardous pool of red wine on your synthetic wood floor. You quietly curse yourself for not drinking yourself to sleep again to avoid this waking up to shock and shivers. A sigh leaves your lips, and you leave the fleeting comfort of bed to throw on some dirty, casual clothes. There's not much room for sleep anymore.

Night walks have been a staple for you for quite a while. Whether a case of not wanting to sleep or not being able to, the calm quietness of night helps to soothe your petty issues. The air is always cooler, the streets always emptier, and the world always happier when the light of a system is hidden from view. You finish justifying your actions to yourself by the time you step out of the exterior door, only to realize you have yet to learn a good path to walk in this new environment. So, you wander. You take in the sights as you do; the garrison complex is drab and boring, as always, but just outside is a pleasant plain. You think about the rolling hills, grass, plants, terraforming, and pre-Star League colonization all in quick succession. It might've been quite the mental documentary if your thoughts were ever coherent. Eventually, you stumble upon a small park surrounding a pond. It looks quaint and peaceful enough to take your mind off of things. You circle the water, in a rush to breathe in the cool air. Something rustles in the grass a few meters away from you. It scares you within an inch of your life, despite it likely being a creature smaller than a breadbox. You start to catch your breath again when the bushes reply,

“Wait, do I know you?”

The light peeks out from the bushes, blinding only you. You stifle a scream but still turn to run. Hidden in the reeds and your panic, you hear more words but don't heed them,

“Damn, twice in the same day…”

Your bed isn't any more welcoming when you return to it, but you're used to forcing things upon yourself. Sleep follows dreamless yet empty.

#battletech #mechwarrior #fiction #original characters #mechs #where skin ends

3 notes · View notes

mazegays · 4 months

Text

could've followed my fears all the way down

hi everyone!! so, a quick question/vote for yall regarding the next couple of updates: would you a) prefer two chapters over two days, one saturday and one sunday b) two chapters in one day c) skip an update this is because i have realized that one of my update days is a day i will be attending a concert, so it is not very likely that i will remember to update. if you pick a or b, that will be the next update in two weeks, and c means that you'll get the chapter 28 on time and chapter 29 will be posted four weeks after that.

Chapter 27

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 28

“How are we going to tell him?” Minho hasn’t been able to figure out how, exactly, they’re going to tell Thomas about the Tree. The one they planted when they thought he was dead.

It should have been done sooner. It’s been long enough now that it’s going to seem like they’ve been keeping it from him on purpose. They should have told him before he was well enough to be able to demand to go see it immediately.

Minho knows they’ve messed up. He just doesn’t know how they’re going to fix it.

“I don’t know,” Gally says, “Just coming right out and saying it seems wrong. Should we take him down there and show him before explaining?”

“Explaining first would take the shock out of the whole thing, it might make it easier when he does see it.”

Minho’s not really sure how they’ve kept Thomas away from the Tree the whole time—he’s been able to walk around on his own for a while now, at least short distances, but they haven’t brought him to the firepits at all.

“We can’t hide it forever. I’m surprised he doesn’t know about it already.”

“I’m not saying we should. He’s only been to the greenhouse, though, he wouldn’t have been able to see it. And who wants to tell their friend about a memorial tree for them?”

He sees Gally shake his head out of the corner of his eye. “Well, there’s certainly not a handbook for that.”

Maybe they’re overthinking this. Maybe it’ll all be fine, and Thomas won’t really react aside from being upset that they planted the wrong type of tree in a very wrong spot.

“I’m sure it’ll be okay, Gally.” He tries, but he doesn’t really believe himself. He loves Thomas, really, but he’s not exactly known for having measured reactions.

“You’re back!” Thomas lights up when he sees him, which is very cute, and Minho feels Gally straighten up at his side. “Anya’s cleared me to work in the kitchen again, and I only have to wear this shucking sling for six hours a day now!”

“What, you got bored of reading all day?” Gally teases, and it’s like he wasn’t fretting just a few moments ago.

Minho’s pretty sure Thomas is the only person who can make both of them relax that quickly.

“Frypan will be glad for your help,” He tells Thomas, earnestly. It’s nice to see him this excited about something.

They haven’t had much cause to be excited, ever. Especially not recently. For once, their luck was good enough that Thomas’s injuries hadn’t gotten too much worse when Rosa moved him, but it still set back his healing.

“She also told me not to go down to the fire pits alone, that there’s something you needed to show me there.” Thomas narrows his eyes.

They’re not getting out of this one.

Anya meant well, as she usually does, but Minho would have liked to be the first to mention it to Thomas.

“Maybe it’s something better shown than explained,” Gally says slowly, like he’s not sure what else to tell Thomas.

“Well, it’s not that bad, is it?” Thomas studies them for a moment before going back inside.

Minho doesn’t know what he saw, and he’s not sure he wants to.

Neither of them follow for a long moment.

This is not going to go well.

finish on ao3 or under the cut

Thomas has been isolated from the wider community for months, with only their friends, really, as company. Jorge, when he had the time to spare.

Not that any of them really spend a lot of time with people outside of their fellow Maze survivors outside of their jobs; they’ve had each other, and that’s been okay.

He can’t look at the forest without panicking, which rules out moving to Gally’s cabin—at least for now.

“Minho, what do we do if he freaks out?” He hisses. Thomas really doesn’t need to hear this.

“We’ll handle it, like we always do. We’re good at calming him down now.”

“Okay, but it’s a tree. Thomas hasn’t done well with any trees, lately.”

Which really sucks, because Thomas had planned a nice setup around both this cabin— he’s not sure he can call it theirs yet, they’ve hardly talked about anything— and his.

“He hasn’t had a panic attack in front of everyone before.”

“One, it won’t be everyone, two, the medical cabin is nearby if we need to go somewhere to help him through it, three, everyone here has had a panic attack before, they’ll understand.”

“He’ll hate everyone seeing.”

“He will, but that’s why we’ll move him if we can.” How is Minho being this calm, this rational, about all of this?

Gally doesn’t know, but he knows he knows better than to think this isn’t affecting Minho.

Just because he doesn’t show it, doesn’t mean it’s not happening.

He used to get so upset when he couldn’t get a rise out of Minho. Now, he knows it’s a well-practiced front on Minho’s part, not that Gally’s words and actions just didn’t affect him.

“I just— I don’t want him to get hurt more, Minho.”

“I know. I don’t, either, but we can’t keep him here forever, and I don’t want to. He likes being with our friends and helping out. He’s going to find out.”

“Are… is something wrong?” Thomas glances between them, brow furrowed.

He knows something’s wrong, of course, he’s too good at reading them by now not to know.

“We’re just not sure how you’ll react to what we have to show you.” Minho answers.

“Then tell me about it first.” This time they do follow him inside. He sits cross-legged on the bed, watching them.

“It’s something we did while you were missing.” Minho starts, then corrects himself. “... When we thought you were dead.”

“Like a memorial?”

“Yeah, exactly like that.” Gally’s not sure how the words make it out of his mouth.

Why is this so terrifying?

“And you couldn’t tell me why?” Thomas is defensive now, tone sharp.

Oh.

He thinks it’s an insult to him that they didn’t tell him, that they think he can’t handle it.

(Isn’t that exactly what they think, though?Isn’t that what they’ve been worried about this whole time?)

“We weren’t sure what you would think, Thomas.” Minho says. He sits on the bed, and though Gally doesn’t think they’re doing it on purpose, they lean into each other a little bit. “It’s not really decorated—we found you before we could let ourselves think about putting your stuff on it or anything like that. But we weren’t sure how to tell you.”

“We didn’t want you to think we’d wanted you dead, or anything.” Gally takes the other side of the bed, and is gratified when Thomas turns to him. “We didn’t, we don’t, but it’d been long enough that we didn’t know what else to think.”

“Sonya told me about the big one.” Thomas murmurs. “She said it all felt fake. I thought you might have done something, it makes sense.

Gally almost wants to shake him.

This is one of the things he just doesn’t get about both Thomas and Minho; they can, at least outwardly, completely disconnect emotion from everything else. He’s only seen them do it when something bad happens to them, though.

Anyone else, and they’ll be as angry or sad or whatever else it is that they need to be. They both still react in anger, fear, whatever it is, but it’s lessened when it’s something they think they can take apart logically.

‘It makes sense’ that they thought he was dead?

Well. Yes, it does, but Gally would have been hurt by the fact that it hadn’t even been two weeks and they were already metaphorically burying him.

He can name all the times he’s seen Thomas upset because someone did something to him, and most of those he caused.

“Thomas,” He whispers, not willing to speak louder. Minho shoots him a look, probably knowing what he’s going for.

They can’t ignore this.

Some days, Gally wakes up earlier just to watch Thomas sleep, because he’s still there, breathing, alive, and his corpse isn’t rotting somewhere in the forest where they’ll never find it.

Minho does it too, he’s caught him at it before.

All three of them have nightmares, that’s a given, but they never talk about them. Not really.

Not the new ones. The older ones are easier, most of the time.

“I know, Gally.” Thomas scoots a little closer to him, rests his head on Gally’s shoulder. Minho’s holding his good hand, he realizes. “I don’t want to think about it.”

“Do you want to go see it?” Minho asks. “We don’t have to. We can wait.”

“I want to. What did you even do?”

“It’s a tree.” It’s better to get that out of the way, probably.

“Do you need help putting the sling back on?” All three of them know Thomas doesn’t, he’s been doing it for long enough on his own now— and they’ve been leaving him here, alone, with nothing else to think about.

Of course he figured it out.

What else has he been thinking about, with nothing else to do?

“Yeah, please.” Thomas moves so his bad arm is out, so Minho can help him with the sling, but otherwise stays close to Gally.

When he glances down, Thomas has his eyes closed; Gally can’t read his face.

What is he thinking?

How much does he know that he hasn’t told them?

<- 26 28 ->

0 notes

moon-light-jukebox · 4 years

Text

Germs [Reid x Reader]

this gif isn’t mine

Summary: Reader is sure the resident BAU genius doesn’t like her, but she’s not sure why. But even if he did like her, he’s a germaphobe, so he wouldn’t be comfortable with the things she wants to do to him...would he?

Pairing: Spencer Reid / (Female) Reader

Word Count: 5.6k

Rating: Mature

Category: Fluff and Smut

Content Warning: Brief mentions of torture and violence, usually criminal minds stuff, nothing explicit. Light choking, oral sex (female receiving), penetrative sex, fingering, language (maybe?)

A/n: I have come out of fan fiction writing retirement for this one. Let me know what y’all think! masterlist

y/n - your name

y/l/n - your last name

italicized text is Reader’s sassy inner thoughts

---

I’m not sure if I believe in hell, but if there is a hell, I’m sure it feels exactly like Louisiana in July. Every time I walked outside I felt like I was walking into soup. Gross. I couldn’t help but feel guilty over my sigh of relief when I walked back into the local precinct the team was currently working out of. Young women are dying, and I’m worried about a little bit of heat.

But, fuck, it was hot.

Speaking of heat, I thought as I threw open the door to the conference room only to run smack into the hottest thing I’d ever encountered.

“Shit,” I exclaimed before I thought better of it. “I’m so sorry.” I ran my eyes up, up, up, all the way up his body until I met his eyes; those beautiful honey brown eyes that threatened to have me acting like an idiot if I stared into them for too long.

Dr. Spencer Reid’s cheeks were tinged pink, his posture stiff, his fingers clutching the file he was carrying for dear life. “Don’t worry about it, Y/n,” he sounded uncomfortable, which made my stomach drop. “My fault.” With that, he quickly maneuvered around me and headed off to complete whatever genius task he had to complete.

My eyes followed him until he was out of sight before I mentally shook myself. ‘C’mon, this is pointless,’ I thought. ‘He doesn’t even like you.’ Which I really thought was true, the good doctor went out of his way to avoid me whenever possible. ‘Plus, he’s a germaphobe.’ This thought was confirmed true. He didn’t shake people’s hands, the only people I’d seen him touch during my time at the BAU were members of the team that he’d known for years, and some of those even seemed reluctant.

Admittedly, I didn’t know a lot about germaphobia; since I couldn’t ask the only genius I knew, I did the next logical thing. I googled it. Every person I’d read about seemed to experience germaphobia differently. Some people could have sex, but others were grossed out by the very idea. Knowing my luck, Spencer Reid and his beautiful hands, and his soulful eyes, and his cheekbones that could cut glass was in the repulsed by sex category. Which is fine! Right, it is fine to not be interested in sex; the only problem was I was very interested in every part of him.

Maybe he thinks I’m gross. Maybe I stink? Maybe he’s just repulsed by my very presence. Regardless, I couldn’t see Spencer Reid ever shoving me against a wall and fucking me senseless.

I sighed, making my way over to the conference table, pulling out a chair before I flopped into it. I could feel the exhaustion settling into my bones. We had been in Louisiana for almost a week now and we were still no closer to finding our unsub. He was a white man, he worked in a lower-paying job, and he hated women. Obviously, that didn’t narrow it down much.

The unsub was targeting women in clubs and bars, following them outside before he bashed them on the back of the head. After that, he threw the girls over his shoulder and took them to his car; he moved them to a secondary location before he tortured them. The first two victims had survived. They were traumatized, but they were fighters; they both said the same things, ‘he kept my eyes covered the entire time,’ “I never saw his face,’ ‘I did whatever he told me to do.’

We thought the killing of the third victim had been an accident, but that accident had excited our guy enough that he changed his ritual; the killing was crucial now. We had 4 bodies, 2 live victims that couldn’t tell us anything, and no leads.

Sighing, I leaned forward, bringing the heels of my hands to my eyes. I hated feeling helpless. The answer to who this fucker was is in this evidence somewhere and I will find it. If it’s the last thing I do.

The doors swung open again, pulling me from my thoughts. Hotch lead the parade of people, followed by Morgan, JJ, and Dr. Reid. Our unit chef looked gravely serious…not that that necessarily meant anything, in the 6 months I’d been with the behavioral analysis unit I hadn’t seen him have any other expression.

Morgan pulled out his phone, hitting what I suspected was speed dial number 1. “Hey baby girl,” he said, without his usual swagger; even he was tired. “You’re on speaker. You’ve got me, Hotch, JJ, Reid, and Y/l/n.”

“And I have the always wonderful Emily Prentiss, and the dashing David Rossi on the line, effectively putting my favorite people together again, as they should be,” Garcia quipped. I don’t think she meant to include me in her list of ‘favorite people,’ but it made me smile anyway. “Okay, crime fighters, what’s the play?”

“We’re still no closer to finding the unsub,” Hotch began. “He’s highly organized, methodical, and paranoid; but he hasn’t killed in 3 days, this is a break from his escalation pattern. He’s going to strike soon.” Hotch leaned over resting his palms on the shiny fake wood of the conference table. “Our best chance is to send an agent out there as bait.” There was a general murmur of agreement before he continued on. “Garcia, we need you to find all of the night clubs, bars, and whatever else you can think of in the updated comfort zone.”

The sound of keys clicking made its way through the speaker. “Assuming we’re excluding the places he’s already hit, that leaves us with 3 possibilities.”

“So far he hasn’t struck a place twice,” Prentiss chimed in. “Do we think he’s going to hold to that pattern?”

Reid moved over to the board where the map of the county was displayed. “I think so. This guy is too careful to risk going to a place where he’s been before. The chance of him being recognized is too great, especially when everyone is on high alert.” He gestured to the area he had circled on the map. “His pattern seems to be focusing in on this center point right here,” he said, placing a pin in the map. “This area means something. Garcia, what is the closest club or bar to the intersection of Washington Avenue and Harrison Street?”

“That would beeeeee…The Blue Fox.”

“That’s where he’ll be,” Dr. Reid said confidently, his eyes moving to Hotch’s face.

The older man nodded. “It’s our best lead so far, we have to run with it.”

“It’s Friday night,” Rossi pointed out. “We’ll have to act soon.”

Hotch nodded, seeming to be lost in thought. “We need to send agents in there tonight. We know the victims were all on dates or flirting with a man right before their abduction. He targets women that are happy with their companions then waits til he can separate them.”

“Who are you planning on sending in, Hotch?’ JJ questioned.

“Y/l/n is the youngest, she fits the build of the previous victims the best.” His heavy gaze rested on me. “What do you think?”

Like it was even a choice. “I’m in.”

Hotch nodded, accepting my answer. “Good. You’ll partner with Reid.”

“What?!” I squawked, much to my embarrassment. I cleared my throat before I continued. “But, Reid and I…I just thought Morgan would be the obvious choice.” Fuck, I’m just digging a bigger hole.

Morgan gave me an easy smile. “You’re just saying that because you wanna see my moves, little mama.”

Hotch cleared his throat, bringing our attention back. “Morgan is too intimidating; the unsub might not move in if he feels too threatened. You’ll go with Reid.” When he was met with silence he continued on, “alright, let’s get to work.”

And that is how I wound up in a club in Louisiana on a Friday night, in a tight black dress, with Spencer Reid beside me. After he walked into the club holding my hand. He doesn’t hold hands, I cringed internally at the thought. He must feel so uncomfortable.

He waved the bartender over, ordering a drink for me and a water for himself before turning to me. “I thought a drink would loosen you up a bit. You look nervous.”

I am nervous. “Right. Thanks.” I drummed my fingers on the bar, my gaze sweeping around the club for anyone who seemed out of place and especially creepy. Most lone men at clubs and bars were creepy, but we need especially creepy.

“Is that because you don’t think I can have your back?”

My head snapped back around. “What?”

Spencer paused to accept the drinks from the bartender, sliding him the money. “In the conference room. You seemed upset that Morgan wasn’t going to be your partner,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Is that because you think I wouldn’t have your back?”

Fuck. I blushed to the roots of my hair. “No, Spencer! God no! It’s not that, I know you’d have my back.” I took a sip of my drink before I said anything else. “It’s just that…you don’t seem to like me very much, and I know you have a thing about germs, and I thought maybe that’s why you didn’t like me.” I was babbling; I was absolutely babbling. “I just didn’t want you to be uncomfortable, that’s all. Morgan has never seemed uncomfortable around me, so…” I trailed off lamely.

The corners of his lips quirked up in amusement. “So, you didn’t want to partner with me on this because you didn’t want me to be uncomfortable?”

I nodded, fidgeting with the straw in my drink.

Spencer moved closer to me, his right hand coming to rest on the small of my back. He seemed as calm as he could be, meanwhile I suddenly had trouble breathing.

It’s for the case. He has to do this for the case. Calm down.

"What do my issues with germs have to do with this?" he wondered, leaning closer to me. I could feel his breath on my neck; my skin broke out in goosebumps.

Double fuck. “Well, we’re supposed to be…together. And you think I’m gross. What if you have to kiss me?” TRIPLE FUCK. “Not that we’d have to kiss,” I tried to backpedal. “But we might, you never know. And I just didn’t…I don’t want you to dislike me more than you do.”

The teasing smile slipped from his face, the fingers on my lower back flexing slightly. He regarded me with a tilt of his head. "You're serious?" At my shaky nod, he continued. "Y/n, I don't think you're gross."

“You don’t?” I squeaked.

He lifted his hand from my back then, sliding it up to my shoulder, his free hand moving from the bar to rest on my hip. Spencer brushed my hair back before he leaned forward. Slowly, slowly, slowly, I felt his lips touch the tender skin of my neck. My eyes fluttered shut, unable to suppress a gasp at the contact. Spencer Reid’s beautiful lips slid down to the place where my neck and shoulder met, then I felt his teeth nip the skin before he placed another kiss there. He worked his way back up towards my ear, the hand on my hip moving slightly so he was almost grabbing my ass. “I don’t think you’re gross,” he breathed, causing me to shudder. I could hear the smirk in his voice. “Germs don’t bother me in that way, especially around people I know. I wouldn’t have a problem kissing you, baby.”

I was going to need new panties after this. Spencer Reid, awkward, sweet, Dr. Spencer Reid just called me Baby.

“…Oh.” Really, y/n. Oh; you went with oh?

The good doctor pulled back, his face close enough to mine that I could see that he had freckles under his eyes and that those beautiful eyes got more golden towards the center. "Oh."

Michael Watkins was the name of our unsub. He was a short white man with a receding hairline and a bad temper. His last relationship had ended 3 months before the first attack; Spencer was right to pick this bar. Shortly after he tried to make my pussy combust with his neck kisses, Reid suggested I walk to the bathroom, assuring me he’d be watching if anyone followed.

Watkins’ hand was in my hair, dragging me outside before I made it to the ladies’ room. I felt a jolt of fear as I struggled to escape, strands of hair being ripped from my head. I shouldn’t have worried, because no sooner had the outside door opened than I heard the velvety voice of Derek Morgan. “FBI! Put your hands where we can see them.”

He attempted to run. Why would anyone try to run from Derek Morgan?

After the medics confirmed I was okay, I was sent back to the hotel while the rest of the team went with the local police to book Watkins and try to get a full confession.

“Good work,” Hotch said, his hand clapping down on my shoulder.

The highest praise I’ll ever need.

I hopped into the shower right when I got back to my room, not wanting Watkins’ touch on me for a moment longer.

Spencer’s touch, however,…That was a touch I wouldn’t mind having on me. But he’d barely looked at me once he made it outside. I knew he was being affectionate in there because of the case, we were playing a role. I knew that. I still couldn’t stop the twinge of hurt I felt.

But he doesn’t think I’m gross. That had to count for something.

I had just got done blow drying my hair enough so that it wouldn’t look too crazy when I woke up when there was a knock on my door. Figuring it was Emily, I didn't consider the fact that I was in my pajamas, and my face was scrubbed free of makeup.

It wasn’t Emily. Spencer Reid stood on the other side of my door, his eyes running down my body before he met my bewildered stare again. “You look comfy,” he commented with that damn little smile on his lips again.

“Oh. Yeah. I took a shower.” Way to go, y/n, you’re really killing it tonight.

“I see that,” he said, his cheeks going a little bit pink. “Can I come in? I thought we should talk.” Was he nervous? Why would he be nervous?

I ushered him in, shutting the door behind him. He sat on the bottom edge of my bed; his body angled towards the headboard. I briefly debated about where to sit before I joined him. Don’t make it weird, y/n.

He cleared his throat before he began. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable tonight. I just wanted to make sure we got the guy.”

Right. “Oh, it’s okay, Spencer. I get it. I wasn’t uncomfortable.” I picked at the frayed edge of my sleep shorts, my eyes dropping so he didn’t see anything on my face that betrayed how I was feeling; you can’t be too careful around profilers.

His hand reached out to cover my own fidgeting hands, one of his hands covering both of mine. His hands were so big. His fingers were so long, the veins in his hands were so pronounced. I bet those fingers would feel really – FOCUS.

“I’m also sorry you thought I didn’t like you.” His thumb had started to move slowly over the back of my hand. “I do like you. I like you a lot, actually. I just…” I brought my gaze back up to meet his eyes. “I just get nervous sometimes.”

“You didn’t seem nervous in the club.”

“No,” he chuckled. “I wasn’t nervous then because it was my job. I wasn’t worried about misreading a signal…doing the wrong thing…I’m not the best with social cues.” I had noticed that about him before. “But I am a really good profiler.” And he’s humble too, apparently.

“I know that you couldn’t fake your reaction to me in the club. Your breathing became quicker, I felt your pulse jump under my lips when they were on your neck. I saw how blown your pupils got." He shifted closer to me then, bringing his other hand up to push my hair behind my shoulder like he did earlier in the night. "Just like they are now."

He leaned closer to me, his voice was lower, and it made my stomach flutter. "You're clenching your thighs together, Y/n. Your shirt may be baggy, but I can see how hard your nipples are too." His tongue ran out to wet his lips. "If I'm wrong, just tell me now. If I've misread this, I will leave right now, and we can pretend this never happened." Spencer brought both his hands up to cradle my face; despite how wet my panties were, how tight my nipples are, how badly I wanted him to touch me, this gesture made me feel special. He was holding me like he actually cared about me like I was precious. "But, if I'm not wrong, and you want this too, Y/n, tell me. Tell me you want this too and I won't stop touching you until you scream my name."

I let out a soft whimper then. Like it’s a choice. “I want this,” I leaned into his touch. “Please, Spencer.”

His thumb brushed over my cheek, his eyes never leaving mine. “Please, what, baby?”

“Kiss me.”

No sooner had the words left my mouth than his lips were on mine. His lips were softer than I imagined, they were firm and almost…questioning. When I nipped at his bottom lip, something seemed to break free inside of him. His lips slanted over mine with a hunger I had never felt. His tongue ran over my bottom lip before I opened for him. Spencer’s tongue moved into my mouth while his hands moved; one hand moved back to grip my hair at the base of my skull, tugging firmly, the other moved down to my neck, not applying any pressure, just resting it there in a gesture that felt possessive.

The need for oxygen broke us apart, his lips moving across my cheek to my jaw, then down to my neck. “How could you think I didn’t like you?” he mumbled into my skin. “You have no idea what you do to me. None.”

I threw my head back when he sucked on my pulse point, a moan ripping from my throat. “W-what…what do I do?”

Pulling back from me, he gripped the bottom of my shirt, looking at me for consent before he pulled it over my head. His eyes were firmly on my chest, his lips parted, his breathing heavy. He pushed me down slowly on the bed; I was on my back and he was hovering over me. I felt his mouth place hot, wet, kisses from my collarbone down towards my breasts. His right hand landed on my breast, his thumb brushing back and forth over my nipple while his lips moved closer and closer to my left. I tangled my hands in his hair, urging him forward.

“You want to know what you do to me?” he raised his head slightly, making sure my eyes were on him when he flicked his tongue over my nipple, causing me to gasp. “What do you do to me in your little skirts, with your little smiles, and your little laughs?” He gave my nipple a sharp pinch. “You’re all I fucking think about, y/n.” With a growl, he finally took my nipple in his mouth, teasing it with his teeth and tongue. He switched to the other breast while he adjusted himself over me, bringing his pelvis down to rest at the seam of my body between my thighs. I shifted restlessly under him, trying to grind my pussy against him. He was so fucking hard.

With a groan, he lifted his head and started kissing his way towards the middle of my chest, moving down to the curve of my stomach. “Do you know how many times I came back to my hotel room after spending all day with you and was so hard I had to cum before I could think of anything else?” he peppered kisses down my body as he spoke.

My eyes shot open at this confession that he seemed to think was no big deal. “What?” I couldn’t believe this. “You…you touched yourself and thought of…”

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of my shorts and panties, taking my raised hips as an invitation to remove both from my body. "You. I thought of you." He threw my clothes on the floor, pulling my legs open. His eyes moved over all of me, his Adam's apple bobbing when he swallowed hard. “I thought about kissing you. About making you squirm for me.” He ran his fingers up and down my thighs, his mouth running slowly over my inner thighs. Spencer’s hands hooked around my upper thighs, moving me to where he wanted me. “But, most of all, I thought about this pretty pussy.” He placed a kiss on my clit, chuckling at the wanton moan that came from me and how my fingers tangled in his soft brown curls. “I thought about all the different ways I could make this pretty pussy cum all over me.” With that, he ran his tongue up my slit before flicking it over my clit.

Dr. Spencer Reid was good at everything, so of course, he was good at this too. His mouth moved over me, watching my reaction to see what I liked best. His tongue moved in circles around my clit before slipping down to my opening. His tongue plunged inside me, fucking me, while his thumb came over to rub my clit.

“Spence- fuck- Spencer, please.” My hips tried to shift restlessly, but his arms were iron bars holding me still. He slowly moved his left forearm to rest across my hips, bringing his right hand down to my throbbing pussy. He pulled his mouth away from me, much to my dismay. He pushed one finger, then another into me. My head thrashed wildly, and my thighs started to shake. “Spencer!”

He just smirked and curled his fingers, hitting the spot inside me that made everything in my body pulse. “What, baby?”

My breaths were coming in gasps, my voice was a needy whimper. “Make me cum, Spencer. Please, please make me cum.”

He needed no other encouragement. His fingers continued their steady thrust in and out of me while his mouth covered my clit again. He alternated between flicking my clit with his tongue, then circling it before pulling it into his mouth, sucking lightly.

“Spencer.” I felt my orgasm rising. “Spencer don’t- don’t stop. I’m gonna cum, please make me cum.”

He kept his pace steady, sucking on my clit, moaning at my words. His eyes had been closed, but at that moment they opened and met mine. Then I felt his teeth ghost over my clit, I saw the want in his eyes. That was my undoing. My back arched, my mouth hung open in a silent scream. I heard myself say his name over and over again. Spencer pushed his fingers inside me, massaging me through the most powerful orgasm I had ever had. With one final kiss on my oversensitive clit, he withdrew his fingers, putting them into his mouth to suck my orgasm off of them.

He kissed back up my body, and I tried to respond, but I was still so shattered. I had never felt anything so powerful before. He cupped my face in one hand and kissed me slowly. I returned the kiss, moving my hands to the buttons of his shirt.

Spencer broke the kiss, pulling back to look at me again. “Hang on, baby.” His hand came up to still my own. “We can take a second. It’s okay. Just breathe.”

This beautiful man smiled at me then. I felt my heart flutter when he leaned down to pepper soft kisses along my jaw, his thumb coming up to wipe a tear that fell from the corner of my eye that I hadn’t even noticed.

I don’t know how long we stayed like that. He shifted to lay beside me, whispering reassurances to me while I came back down. This was just one of the ways that Spencer was so different from every other man. I didn't feel rushed, or pressured. I could feel how hard he still was, I could feel the tension in his body, but he simply kissed me while he cupped my jaw.

He made me feel…cherished.

I moved my hands to tangle in his hair again, deepening our kiss. He didn’t move my hands away when I started to work on the buttons of his shirt. The fire that I thought had been calmed by my orgasm had come roaring back. Spencer moved his hands to his belt while I finished with his shirt. His shirt came off, tossed in the same direction as my clothes. I pulled his pants and boxers down his legs, watching his cock spring free.

Everything about him was painfully beautiful. His angular cheekbones, the jaw that looked like it was carved from granite, even the toned muscles of his body. He had a small trail of hair that went down from his belly button to his groin. His cock laid against his stomach, the head glistening with precum.

“You’re beautiful,” I whispered, kneeling beside him, running my eyes over his body.

His soft hand came to grab mine, pulling it to his lips. He kissed the back of my hand, smiling softly at me.

I moved to straddle him, lower on his thighs. I took him in my hand, moving up and down, twisting my wrist as I neared the tip, swiping my thumb over his head.

“Baby,” he groaned. “Y/n, as much as I want you to do…whatever the fuck you want with me, I’m so close. I feel like I’m going to explode.” I bit into my bottom lip, unable to totally stop the smile spreading over my face. “Please, I need to feel your pussy wrapped around my cock.” He moved his hands to my hips, urging my body forward.

I raised up on my knees, taking him in my hand again, lining him up with my entrance. The tendons in his neck were strained, his fingers gripped my hips so hard I knew I was going to have bruises tomorrow. As I slowly started to sink down on his cock, Spencer let out the sexiest groan I had ever heard. His eyes were fixed where our bodies were joined, watching his dick slid deeper inside of me.

“Come on, baby,” he whispered. “You’re doing so good. Just a little bit more.”

He was so long, he wasn't overly thick, but just thick enough to cause a pleasurable stretching when he breached me that was almost painful. I gasped out a sound that might have been his name when he bottomed out inside me. I slowly circled my hips, adjusting to him. Spencer’s nails dug into my hips as he forced himself to stay still.

“Please move, y/n. Please. You’re so fucking tight.” He groaned as my walls fluttered around him. “Do you like it when I talk to you? Does that make your pretty pussy wetter?” He smirked at my whimper as I tightened around him.

I began at a slower pace, trying to tease him. Spencer quickly lost patience with that; he thrust his hips upwards, meeting my movements, his hands pushing me down onto him. I leaned forward, bracing on hand on his shoulder, the other on the bed. He pounded into me while I tried to match his pace. Spencer’s hand moved from my hip up to wrap around my throat. I nodded, forcing my eyes to stay open as he moved inside me.

His fingers squeezed slightly, pulling my face closer to his. Our lips met in a sloppy kiss. My thighs burned from matching his movements. “You feel so fucking good, y/n.” His grip on my neck tightened ever so slightly, which only heightened my arousal. “I want to feel you cum on my cock. Can you do that for me, pretty girl?”

He flipped us over quickly, never pulling completely out of me. Spencer moved to push my legs further apart, the change in angle allowing him to fill me deeper than I thought possible. His hair was sticking to his brow, his cheeks were flushed, his breathing erratic. He was the most fucking beautiful thing I had ever seen.

One hand held my leg, the other went down to my pussy, his thumb moving over my clit at a rapid pace. “Tell me what you need, Pretty Girl. Tell me how to make this pretty pussy cum all over me.”

I whined at his words. “Spencer, I-“ my voice broke off. I was so fucking close. "I need you." He seemed to understand my broken plea. He brought his body down, his chest flush against mine. He rocked into me at such a fast and hard pace. His hand still in between us rubbing circles around my clit.

I felt his lips ghost over my ear. “I want to fucking hear you, y/n.” His speed increased, his thrust getting choppier. He was close. “I want this whole fucking town to hear what you sound like when I make you cum. When you cream all over my dick, I want you to scream my name.” With that, he moved his mouth down my neck. He bit the same tender area he had kissed in the club, where my neck met my shoulder.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck yes, Spencer!" I felt myself begin to splinter apart. “Please make me cum, fuck please.” My babbling finally broke as my orgasm tore through me. I couldn’t hear his deep groan when I came, my scream was too loud. I felt the vibration against my neck. It was only as I started to float down that I realized my nails were dug into his back. With a few last thrust and my name on his lips, I felt Spencer pulse, cumming inside me.

We lay there for a few minutes, just breathing before he rolled off of me. I felt overwhelmed, so I was relieved when he tugged me over to him. He wrapped his arm around me when I laid my head on his chest. I felt his lips on my forehead. “It’s very important for women to urinate after sexual intercourse to avoid UTIs, but you have another minute or so before that becomes more urgent.”

I couldn’t control my laugh at his comment. "Thanks, Doc." I kissed his chest. "Only you could make me cum so hard I almost blackout, then go back to being…you." I slowly untangled myself from him, going to the bathroom to handle business. When I returned, I found Spencer where I left him, his eyes were fixed on the ceiling, one hand resting behind his head, the other over his heart. He looked so lost in that moment.

“Spencer?” I asked, crawling on to the bed. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t pretend that something wasn’t bothering him. “When you said that I just go back to being me…Do you not like that?”

My heart broke a tiny bit at the question. “Spencer, no! I love that! I love your little facts and statistics!” How did he not know that? “The best part of my day is listening to you talk. Just being with you is wonderful.” I cupped his face, bringing his gaze to mine. “Sure, I like what we just did; but I liked you before that. I want both.” Fuck. “Assuming you want me,” I rambled quickly. “This doesn’t have to mean anything, I know that it doesn’t always-“

He cut me off by pressing his lips to mine in the sweetest kiss I had ever felt. It was filled with hope and promise and…Spencer.

“It means everything to me, Y/n.”

I didn’t see the rest of the team until the next morning when we all boarded the jet; I was so ready to go home. I personally didn’t think anything appeared that different. Spencer sat beside me on the couch, but that wasn’t weird…right? We were just co-workers, sitting beside each other super casually. Had we spent most of last night and a little bit of this morning screwing each other’s brains out? Certainly. But you couldn’t see that…right?

Morgan’s chuckle is what confirmed I was so wrong. “Hey, y/l/n,” he called, smiling so hard it looked like his face would split from his amusement. “You missed a spot.” He pointed towards his own neck.

There was a beat of silence before Hotch snorted. SSA Aaron Hotchner, the man who never found anything funny was laughing at me.

I felt myself turn tomato red, angling my body towards Spencer’s, burying my head against his shoulder, away from the rest of the team.

“I bet you’re glad pretty boy was your partner now, huh?”

I may have wanted to melt into the floor in embarrassment, but it was sort of worth it to see the blush on Spencer’s cheeks.

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #Dr Reid #Spencer reid fic #Spencer reid smut #dr spencer reid smut #dr spencer reid fics #criminal minds #criminal minds fan fic #criminal minds smut #Spencer reid x you #Spencer reid x reader #Spencer reid x y/n

7K notes · View notes

the-witty-pen-name · 4 years

Text

The Nanny Pt. 1

Lee Bodecker x Nanny!F!Reader

18+

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, implied age gap (reader is in her 20s), cursing, Sandy and Carl being bad parents, 18+ content in later chapters

Summary:

Based on this Request: The reader moves to Meade/Knockemstiff while answering an advertisement for a nanny in the paper. We learn that the ad was posted by Sandy, who has the reader watch her child whenever she and Carl leave to do their secret thing. After one of these trips, Sandy and her husband never return, so the reader is left caring for their baby. With the new investigation into these events, she meets Sandy’s brother Lee, the older, out of shape, alcoholic bachelor, and they are suddenly thrown into each others lives as he begins looking into his sister’s disappearance. Through it all, Lee starts to fall for her, and they slowly become a family.

A/N: Here is the first part of my newest series and I want to thank the anon who reached out to me with this idea!

If I missed anything I should include as a warning that I missed please let me know!

Taglist Form is in my bio and should be updated to now to include this fic! (If for some reason it isn’t working send me a message and I’ll make sure you’re added!!)

“Damn it, Sandy, can’t you handle that?” Carl yells from his dark room as the baby starts crying again.

“Fuck you, Carl,” Sandy shouts back, hurrying to put out her cigarette before heading to the nursery.

Their little girl was just about a year old, and neither one of them knew what they were doing. Carl was incredibly indifferent and despite her honest attempts at motherhood, Sandy’s maternal instincts never kicked in like she thought it would happen. Carl was annoyed that it cut into their time they would be on trips. They weren’t able to photograph models with the baby on the road, so he’d been itching to get back on the road.

“Is she hungry?” he shouts back, not even bothering to take his eyes off of the most recent photographs he had been developing.

“I just fed her!”

“Then why is she crying?”

“Fuck if I know,” Sandy shouts back exasperated. She scooped up the baby from her crib and started to rock her back and forth in her arms. Sandy also tried burping her, humming a little lullaby she made up on the fly… no luck. She walks around the house with the baby on her hip, trying to rock her back to sleep.

“We haven’t able to get back on the road in a year,” Carl says, clearly frustrated.

“That ain’t purely my fault,” she spits back, “Takes two to make a baby, Carl.”

“Fuck I know,” he groans, “But I need new inspiration. If I take one more picture of nature…”

“If she’s such a hindrance, pay for a damn sitter like I suggested months ago,” she counters.

“We can’t have no stranger walking around the house Sandy,” he points out.

“Just keep your damn room locked, it’s not a huge deal,” Sandy sighs. “Besides, no one is gonna snoop around if you pay ‘em enough. You damn well produce your own incriminating evidence; you should always have that room locked anyways.”

“We only have to worry about your damn brother,” Carl points out, “We hire a fucking sitter that’s two people we need to worry about.”

“You’re just to goddamn cheap to hire somebody,” Sandy states, moving back towards the nursery, the baby now snoring softly.

“You know what? Fine,” Carl says defeated. “But you’re in charge of putting the ad out and hiring somebody.”

“Thank you,” she says in a sing song tone, happy she got her way. But the moment of quiet that follows is short lived as they baby starts crying again.

“Please for the love of God can you just take care of that?” Carl yells, and the argument circles back to the beginning.

You had sat in the small dinner in the corner booth hunched over the newspaper and nursing your now cold cup of coffee. You had just arrived in Knockemstiff and were looking for work. “Any leads?” Julie asked as she topped off your coffee. Julie was your roommate. You had found her the same way you were currently looking for a job. You must have answered at least ten terrible Roommate Wanted ads until you had found Julie. The two of you now share an apartment- the top floor of a three-family owned by a sweet older couple.

“Thank you,” you say without looking up from scanning the ads. “Maybe this one?” You say pointing to one of the ads. She looks to see her manager stepped out for his smoke break before sliding in the booth across from you. You slide the paper over to her and she reads the ad out loud.

NANNY NEEDED Knockemstiff, Ohio

Couple that travels for work in need of a nanny for one-year-old daughter.

Temporary live-in position for several weeks at a time. Pay negotiable.

Call Sandy Henderson at the below number.

“I can sublet the room temporarily while you stay there,” Julie offers. “It’s a pretty vague offer,” she continues. “I wouldn’t commit until you call and speak to that Sandy woman.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll need to be interviewed,” you agree. “What kind of people are comfortable just leaving their baby for weeks at a time with a perfect stranger?”

“Paul is still out back I think,” she chuckles, “I’ll let you use the wall phone.”

You take a seat at one of the stools at the counter, and she dials the number for you and then passes you the receiver. You mouth a thank you and she waves her hand in dismissal as she heads over to take someone’s order.

“Whaddya want?” the woman on the other end answers abruptly.

“Oh, I’m calling about the ad in the paper regarding the nanny position. Is it still available?”

“Oh, shit. I’m so sorry, hun,” the woman says, now in a much nicer tone. “Thought it was my brother calling. Yes, it is, and we need it filled as soon as possible. When are you available?”

“For an interview?” You ask.

“Yeah,” she says mumbled, like she is dangling a cigarette from her mouth. “Can you come today?”

“Oh, wow. Yes, I can,” you reply.

“Great, um, you got a pen? Take down this address.”

About two hours, a change of clothes and a cab ride later, you were standing outside a house towards the end of town. It was a little run down, but what building in this town wasn’t? You were a little nervous of course, but it was also the most unconventional way you have gotten an interview. Part of you was relieved, because the woman on the phone sounded real, not phony, but the circumstances still made you uneasy. Julie had the address and said you’d call when you got back to the taxi dispatch.

“Welcome, welcome,” Sandy smiled, opening up the door for you. She had one hand on the doorknob and one of the cutest babies you’d ever seen in the other. “Come on in, make yourself comfortable.”

“Who is this?” you coo, leaning down to the baby’s eye level. “She’s darling.”

“This little sweetheart is Valerie,” Sandy smiles, passing the baby to you. “She’s so well-behaved. Hardly ever cries.”

“She’s adorable,” you smile, as the baby cuddles up close, resting her head on your shoulder. “I didn’t properly introduce myself on the phone. (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“I’m Sandy,” she introduces herself. “Please take a seat on the couch, get comfortable. I hate things that are so formal. Bleh.”

You take a seat on the couch, and readjust the little girl in your arms so she’s sitting on your lap and her back is resting against you so she is supported.

“So, my husband and I are on the road a lot, usually,” she begins, “We took some time off when we had Valerie, but we really need to start working again, you understand.”

“Of course, what do you both do?” you ask politely.

“We’re photographers,” she beams, “Mostly nature and landmarks- which reminds me! We have a darkroom in the house, but that door will be locked when you’re staying here. We don’t want any damage to any of the negatives we have stored in there you understand. Everywhere else in the house is yours to explore! And of course we gotta spare bedroom you can call your own.”

“Fair enough,” you joke.

“So, tell me about yourself, honey,” she smiles, crossing her legs in the armchair where she sat.

“Well, I just moved here a few weeks ago actually,” you begin, “I just recently finished school, and now I’m looking for work. I just got my degree in early childcare from the state college.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” she says with a clap of her hands. “So, you’re local?”

“Yes, I live in town.”

“Excellent! We’d also love for this to be like an on-call thing as well, you know for date nights and things like that for times when we’re home. Like for a few hours here and there. And of course, we’ll always live money for groceries or whatever you need on top of your pay for emergencies incase Valerie needs formula or diapers or anything.”

“Perfect,” you smile, surprised how well the conversation was going. Sandy was easy-going and nice to talk to. The two of you sat and talked for a little under an hour, her asking all the standard questions you anticipated. You also were able to ask her some more of your own questions as well. It was the most effortless interview you had been on easily.

“I’m sorry you weren’t able to meet Carl today,” she says when she is showing you out. “But hun, I feel confident to offer you the job. We haven’t had many applicants and you’re the most qualified one I’ve spoken to. The job is yours if you want it?”

“When can I start?” you smile, making her laugh.

“Your number is on the resume, right?” she says, scooping up the baby. You nod, waving goodbye to the baby and then saying goodbye to Sandy.

“I’ll call you when I speak to Carl, but I think once he knows he’ll want to head out as soon as we can. Plan for Sunday,” she says as you get into the cab.

Just like she had promised, you get a call from Sandy on Saturday afternoon asking you to show up the next morning at 9. You spend the day packing up your clothes and anything else you’d need for a few weeks. Sandy said they’d be back in two weeks but you pack for three just in case. Julie was also nice enough to help you. You didn’t need to do much. Ever since you had settled in Knockemstiff, you had been pretty lazy with unpacking and for once procrastination played out in your favor.

Julie insisted on taking you out to celebrate that night before starting your job tomorrow. There was a small little bar, a little shack of a place just on the outside of town you went to. Julie had a car and you drove, anticipating she’d have a lot more to drink than you. It was a hotter summer night, so you drove with the windows down and the radio playing a little louder than you normally would.

The outside was decorated with string lights of primary colors and the wooden awning looked like it was one more storm away from collapsing. But the atmosphere inside was to die for. The jukebox was playing loud dance music, and the place was crowded. Empty recycled glasses lined the walls on a high shelf as decoration along with weathered posters of anything Americana. A row of motorcycles and trucks were parked outside the little place and it looked like a pileup from how crowded the lot was. People lingered outside as well, and you both hoped you’d find seats inside.

The two of you found a high-top table and Julie made her way up to the bar, skillfully maneuvering through the crowd to grab you both some drinks. You let your eyes wandering, surveying the room and just people watching. Couples were dancing closely to the music that was rattling the jukebox, and a group of people were sitting at the bar huddles in to watch the little black and white portable television. You also noticed a group of men in uniform several tables down, local police. They weren’t paying any attention to anyone but their own conversation, except one.

He just so happened to have looked up just as your eyes landed on their table. Steel blue eyes cutting across everything and just staring right back into yours. It was a fraction of a second and his gaze was broken by Julie taking her seat across from you. You cleared your throat, and finally allowed yourself to exhale. You felt her raise an eyebrow at you but she didn’t press, just gave you a knowing smirk you brushed off. You still felt his gaze on you even if your view was now obstructed.

Sandy and Carl were in a rush when you arrived in the morning. Sandy ran you through the details of where everything was kept and told you that she would call to check in when she could when they made stopped. She helped you carry your bags in from the trunk of the taxi while Carl packed their bags in their car. He was polite enough, but you felt in your gut to just keep your distance. Sandy led you upstairs to the guest room she told you she worked to clean out for you. It was simple, a bed and a dresser with a small closet. She said it mostly had been storage and her weekend project had been clearing it out for you. It was simple, but good enough for you for sure. You thanked her and she dismissed it saying you were the one doing her a favor, making you laugh.

The whole ordeal was very hurried. Carl was rushing to get on the road as soon as possible and you could tell he was clearly irritated at how long Sandy was taking showing you around and explaining things about Valerie. Carrying the baby in your arms, you finally were settled in to your new role and Sandy gave one more big hug and a kiss on Valerie’s head before rushing down to the car. You waved to the pair of them from the small front porch, Sandy looking back and waving to the baby from the passenger seat until they were out of your line of vision.

The first day was a little daunting. New space, living in a house that isn’t yours and a baby babbling in your arms. She was a sweet thing, and she already had taken a liking to you. Heading over to her nursery, you saw that she had a little play pen folded up in the corner of the nursery and you quickly set it up in your room so you could unpack while keeping an eye on her. She babbled just happy utter nonsense to you while you navigated around the space and her big eyes just followed you, just watching you was entertaining for her for now. You were a new face and she was entertained just by that for now.

A few hours later, Valerie had settled down for a nap in the early afternoon. She was sleeping soundly in her crib and you were getting formula ready for when she woke up. It was quiet, the only noise in the house was the small sounds of your own rustling in the kitchen. You wondered when you would hear from Sandy, if it would be later tonight or in a couple of days. You just were lost in your own thoughts when you were startled by a loud knocking on the door. Instantly, Valerie began to cry. You wiped your hands quickly on the skirt of your dress before grabbing her. You rested her on your hip and rocked her gently, shushing her to calm down while you went to grab the door.

The first thing your eyes saw were the same blue eyes who was looking at you at the bar last night. The man’s eyebrows furrowed and he looked really confused. He had one hand rested on his hip and the other against the doorframe, but he stood up straight when he saw it wasn’t who he expected. Your eyes then went down to the shiny Sheriff’s Badge fixed in place on his uniform.

“Who are you?” he asks abruptly. “Where’s Sandy?”

“Sandy and Carl left this morning,” you explain, not sure if he recognizes you. “I’m their nanny.”

He laughs and shakes his head as he looks down, almost like he doesn’t believe you, or he just doesn’t believe the situation. “Carl? Carl Henderson hired a nanny?” he scoffs and you nod, holding Valerie a little closer. The little girl rubs her eyes and yawns, when her eyes flutter open, she looks at the stranger in the doorway and immediately reaches out to signal she wants to be held by him. You ignore her resistance to wanting to be in your arms until you get more information about why the Sheriff is at their doorstep, though she obviously knows him.

“I’m Sandy’s brother,” he explains, “Did she say when they were coming back?” He doesn’t try to hold the baby yet, just holds out one of his fingers and her little hand holds onto it tightly.

“Two weeks.”

“They hire a complete stranger to watch my niece and live in their house unsupervised while they drive around?” he scoffs, shaking his head again in disbelief.

“I’m more than qualified…”

“It’s not a jab at you, sweetheart,” the man tries to explain, “More so a reflection on my sister and her husband is all. They are… fairly selfish people and I wished this situation surprises me more than it does.”

“Should I tell her you came by when she calls?” you ask.

“If she calls,” the man chuckles, “Sure, let her know Lee stopped by to visit.”

“You don’t think she will?” you ask, tilting your head.

“We’ll see,” Lee shrugs, “Do I know you from somewhere?” He rests his arm back up on the doorframe and looks down to the baby again, extending out his free hand to her again and scrunching her cheeks.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, not wanting to admit you remembered seeing him last night. He purses his lips together and nods, not pressing further. He pushes off from the doorframe and puts his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket.

“Must’ve been in a dream then,” he smirks, and you feel your cheeks flush. He walks down the steps and back towards his cop car. “What did you say your name was?” he asks, turning back around.

“I didn’t,” you chuckle.

“Hmm,” he nods, and raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to fill in the blank. You tell him your name and he repeats it back to you like he’s thinking about it, trying it out to see how it sounds.

“Well,” he says, standing behind the open driver’s door, “Good luck, and I hope Sandy proves me wrong. Let me know if she calls.”

Taglist:

@adelaide-walker @thedepressolit @samanthadegaro

#lee bodecker #lee bodecker imagine #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker x y/n #the devil all the time #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan characters #lee bodecker smut #lee bodecker fluff #sebastian stan one shot #sebastian stan imagine #x reader #fluff #smut #nanny!reader #x f!reader #found family

707 notes · View notes

wlwmarvelenthusiast · 3 years

Text

Turn Your Luck

Summary: After a day filled with bad luck and a series of unfortunate events, Natasha manages to turn your day around

Pairing: Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Warnings: None

Words: 6,167

When you woke up in the morning and smacked your big toe off your bed frame, you didn't even think twice of it. It sent a jolt all throughout your foot, but after a few swear words, you were already feeling a little better. You didn't bother making the bed you'd just stood up out of. All your life you'd reasoned that it wouldn't be 24 hours before you just messed it up again. You grabbed a towel and moved into the bathroom. The hot shower made you forget all about the sore toe you'd been sporting only a moment earlier.

You were feeling great when you stepped out of the shower. The warm water had always instilled comfort into your very bones even this early in the morning. You wiped some of the condensation off the mirror to brush your teeth. The tube of toothpaste was completely empty, and the drawer where you usually kept the new ones was also barren. You rolled your eyes at your own irresponsibility, before brushing your teeth without any toothpaste and then using some mouthwash to try and compensate for it. You stepped out of the bathroom.

You got dressed in your favourite white shirt and black pants before making your way into the kitchen. You tossed your phone onto the counter as you passed it on the way to the small kitchen table. You were after the fruit bowl, which was already needing a refill. There were still a few apples left, though, and you were expecting to have one for breakfast. You were mistaken. You pulled the empire apple out of the blue bowl to find the bottom had grown immensely soft and was clearly not in any condition to be eaten. You were disappointed but tossed it into the compost bin and moved on.

Humming a soft tune as you moved, you popped a pod into the single-serve coffee maker and pressed start. You were moving toward the fridge in no time when a strange noise caught your attention. You whirled to face the coffee maker. Instead of the steady stream of coffee you usually got, it was spraying the hot liquid like it was a shaken pop can. You jumped behind the small island, using it as a shield. Thankfully, you'd managed to keep your white shirt safe from the wrath of the coffee. When it stopped, you finally dared step back into the kitchen. The dark liquid was dripping down every nearby surface. You huffed, running some paper towel across the biggest surfaces quickly.

You gave up on the coffee. It seemed you weren't going to get it anyway. You glared at the machine as if it had intentionally smitten you. Instead, you reached into the fridge instead and poured a glass of orange juice for yourself. You sipped it before setting it back onto the countertop. When your phone buzzed and indicated an incoming message, you reached for it. Your elbow hit your glass and it fell onto its side. The orange liquid spilled off the counter and into your white shirt. You gave the mess the middle finger, tossing a dishtowel on it to soak it up, with the intention of actually cleaning it after work. You already had to clean the coffee up anyway.

Any attempt at breakfast was abandoned. After the three kitchen incidents combined, you were convinced you'd be better off heading to some drive-thru on the way to work. Now in a new blue shirt, you grabbed your bag and headed out your front door. You unlocked your car, slid into the driver's seat, and hit the ignition. The car sputtered for a few seconds, before refusing to start. You tried again, and then again, before groaning, taking out your frustration on the steering wheel in front of you. You stood up and stepped back out of the vehicle, slamming the door behind you with much more force than necessary.

Then, it was off to the bus stop. You headed down the sidewalk to the nearest one, pulling out your phone as you walked so you could check your app to find out when the next bus was coming. When you saw big red letters informing you that the bus was halted until further notice, though, you had to refrain from throwing your phone hard into the concrete. You supposed you should have had a little sympathy for those in the accident that had halted your bus, but you couldn't find it in yourself right then. Your morning was not going well.

It was a good thing you hadn't smashed your phone against the sidewalk. It was the only thing you could use to get you to work now. You switched apps and ordered an Uber to come to pick you up. When the driver arrived, you climbed into the back seat and gave him the address of your place of work. He nodded and pressed his foot down on the gas. Your eyes had been glued on your phone, but your gaze flickered at the driver's movement. He was adjusting the mirror and you were absolutely sure he'd angled it to face you a little better. You could have puked when you realized the creep was checking you out. You didn't say anything, at this point just wanting to get to work and be done with it.

You practically sprinted into the building when you arrived. Security didn't seem to mind your rush, having seen your face every day for over three years anyway. You hopped up the stairs two at a time, faster than the elevator would have been able to carry you anyway. When you reached the meeting room door you took a few seconds to catch your breath, not wanting to seem too flustered in your professional environment. When you finally pushed the door open, everyone was rising to their feet. Their eyes all darted up to glance at you. You smiled sheepishly.

"You're late."

"I know, I'm sorry." That was honest. You might have been frustrated, but you hadn't wanted to inconvenience any of your coworkers as well. "I've really had a rough morning."

Your boss nodded. "We've all had those days. I'll send you an email and give you a summary."

You thanked him and left the meeting room with everyone else. You trudged into your office, throwing your bag to the floor, and refraining from slamming the door behind you. You collapsed into your office chair and closed your eyes for a brief moment. But you didn't have time for that. The paperwork on your desk needed your attention. You gave it. The hours you spent on all the files, emails, and documents were the smoothest thing that had happened all day, even if it was mind-numbingly boring and felt absolutely endless. It might have been smooth sailing, but it didn't brighten your spirits at all.

When your phone rang, you reached out blindly until you felt your hand come in contact with it. You shuffled it until it was upright in your hand. You were so completely absorbed in the document that was displayed on your computer screen that you didn't even bother to look at your phone as you fumbled to slide the answer bar. Only when the incessant ringing had finally ceased did you know you'd successfully answered the call. You hesitated before you slowly raised the phone to your ear, eyes still scanning the lines in front of you.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Hun."

Immediately you regretted not checking the caller ID before answering the phone. You could have kicked yourself. In fact, the move was so ridiculously and incredibly stupid that you could have beaten yourself to a pulp. The voice on the other end of the line was familiar, completely unwelcome, and not a surprise after having the day that you were having. You turned away from the screen, resting your elbow on the desk and massaging the migraine that was beginning to form in your forehead. You sighed heavily, sure she heard it.

"Hi," you stated. "What?"

"Hun-"

"Please stop calling me that, I already asked you."

You had asked her that. Multiple times. You'd broken up months ago after she'd broken your heart. Catching her in bed with someone else had left you shattered and unsure if you could trust anyone. You'd been okay for a couple months now after some comfort and reassurance from your best friend, who you were having dinner with tonight. You glanced at the time. Your attention was unfortunately brought back to the girl on the phone, though, when she sighed your name as if she were the one who was hurt. She had no right to be hurt.

"I just-"

"I'm working," you finally said bluntly. "Is it urgent?"

"No. No, I'm sorry. I... I can call you tomorrow."

You wanted to snap and tell her not to bother, but you didn't. You just nodded despite her not being able to see it, said goodbye, and hung up. Once more you were faced with the urge to smash the stupid phone. Once more you fought it, instead shoving it into a drawer so you could ignore it and work on the mountains of paperwork you had to get through before your six o'clock reservations. You got back to it. Soon enough, the information was able to push your ex far from your mind. You didn't want to think about her anyway.

It felt like it had been eons since you'd arrived at work, and yet, according to the clock in the corner of your screen, you still had over an hour until your reservation. You might have slammed your head down onto the desk in front of you had two things not stopped you. The first was the migraine that was still throbbing in your head, and the second was the ringing of your office phone. Even though you knew she couldn't call you on here, you checked the caller ID before you picked up this time. It was the front desk.

"Hey, Tamara. What's up?

"There's someone here for you. She said you're going to miss your reservations."

"Reservations? It's only 4:45."

Tamara hesitated. "Daylight savings. It's 5:45."

You had entirely forgotten about that and even if you hadn't, you would have expected the computer would auto-update something like that. But you had forgotten, and the computer hadn't jumped forward, and now you were going to be late, and you still hadn't turned in the file that you'd promised to turn in today. You groaned in frustration, but transferred the file to a flash drive, shoved it into your bag, and left your office. Clearly, everyone else had remembered the time change, as the office was empty.

You cursed all of your coworkers in your head. You made for the elevator. When you stepped on and hit the button to bring you down to the lobby, you actually crossed your fingers. With your luck, all of the cables on the elevator would snap and you'd plummet all the way to the parking garage and die in a fiery explosion. Thankfully, your little gesture of luck seemed to work, for the doors slid open safe and sound in the lobby. As you stepped out, though, your bag hit the door, and the company ID snapped off and slipped in that tiny little crack between the elevator and the floor and out of sight. You cursed loudly.

You didn't dare shine your flashlight down the crack to try and see how far it'd gone; either your phone would have gone down after it out the doors would have slammed shut on either side of your skull. Neither of those things were a chance you were willing to take. You abandoned your ID and continued to the front desk, letting Tamara know what had happened. She nodded in understanding before pointing out your best friend, who had come to collect you after you'd let her know this morning that you'd taken an Uber to work. You approached her and tapped her shoulder.

"Hey," she said brightly.

"Hey, Nat."

Natasha Romanoff was the best thing to happen to you all day. She was your very best friend. Too, maybe you wanted her to be a little more. She was the most beautiful woman you'd ever laid eyes on, the red waves on her head only accentuating her emerald green irises, which sparkled when she smiled at you. That was only her physical beauty. Though she was, to most everyone that knew her, a tough, scary Avenger, you knew it was a façade. Natasha was the kindest, most generous, selfless, and caring person you'd ever had the pleasure of knowing.

"Tamara tells me you forgot about daylight saving time started last night."

"Shut up," you grumbled.

"Irritable because you lost an hour of sleep?"

"Nat," you said, already feeling bad for snapping at her. You rubbed your head. "I'm not having the greatest of days."

That was how your friendship with Nat was. You both understood that not every day was a good day. She tried to convince you not to compare, but you especially understood that. Natasha had been through hell on Earth when she was a child and you wished with every fibre of your heart that you could bear some of that for her. But you couldn't, and you were sure that if you could have, she wouldn't let you. So instead, you understood the bad days, and in turn, she did too. When you stated that today was one of those days, she turned to you with concern sparkling in those beautiful eyes.

"You okay?" She asked.

Your heart fluttered when her hand took yours.

It was a friendly gesture, of course, but you couldn't help but wish it otherwise. You wanted to hold her hand and have it not be just as a friend. You wanted to be able to intertwine your fingers with hers and squeeze her hand tight and feel that constant touch against her. You didn't want it to be friendly, you wanted it to be more. You wanted it to be so much more. You wanted to call her yours and for her to call you hers. But she was just a friend, and it was far better than nothing.

You hadn't always believed that someone could fall in love without some sort of a romantic relationship leading up to it. Now you realized it didn't need to be romantic. You and Natasha were close. You were closer than you'd ever been with anyone before. Because of that relationship, you knew you loved her. You were head over heels in love with her at this point, and you'd realized that a little while ago when you caught yourself fondly admiring her as she drummed her fingers against the table, deep in thought. It was a habit that had once had the ability to drive you up the wall.

"Hello?" She tried again. Her hand squeezed yours.

Your stomach flipped. "Yeah. I'm alright. Just waiting for my bad luck to run out."

"What happened?"

"What didn't happen?" You scoffed. "My fruit is all spoiled, my coffee maker broke, I spilled orange juice on my favourite white shirt, my car won't start, my bus wasn't running this morning, my Uber driver was a creep, I missed my meeting, I almost missed our reservations, I lost my ID badge and... she-who-must-not-be-named called."

Natasha's eyes darkened, her hand gripped yours tighter, and her gaze moved to meet yours. You took a chance and swiped your thumb over the back of her hand to try and get her to ease the tension out of her muscles. It seemed to work, as she relaxed a little. Her shoulders moved back down, the crease in her eyebrow lessened, she loosened her grip on your hand and exhaled carefully. She nodded in thanks, green eyes once against soft and gentle as she searched your eyes. You knew she was looking for any hint of you being upset. You weren't, though. You were with her.

Natasha hated your ex-girlfriend about a hundred times more than you did. She'd begged you to let her sneak over to her house at night and slash her tires and egg her house. You'd given that a firm no, not wanting Nat to get in any sort of trouble. It was Natasha's idea to never speak her name again, and to burn a bunch of photos and clothes that were left behind at your house. She'd gone so far as to have the bench you'd once carved your names into removed from the park and replaced with a brand new one... on Tony's Starks card, of course.

"What did she want?"

"Dunno. I told her I was busy," you actually laughed a little for the first time that day. "It wasn't exactly a lie. I was swamped today."

"Hey, if Fury is overworking you, I'll kick his ass."

Imagining Natasha kicking Nicholas Fury's ass was utterly amusing. You had no doubt she could, but Fury was a force. She'd kick his ass and the next day half of S.H.I.E.L.D. would be at her doorstep to retaliate. But he was a good boss. It wasn't his fault you'd procrastinated your own work for days. That was on you, and you knew it. So, you shook your head no, he wasn't overworking you. She seemed satisfied by that, but the topic of your ex wasn't dropped yet.

"Next time she calls you can direct her straight to me."

"Tasha, you won't answer."

"Damn right I won't."

You laughed again. It brought a smile to her face too.

With that, you continued on down the street without another word of she-who-must-not-be-named. You had almost reached the restaurant where Natasha had left the reservations when you stepped on something that most definitely was not concrete. If Natasha hadn't had your hand, your leg sliding out from underneath you would have left you on your ass. She held tight to your hand, her other arm catching you around the waist. You had to force yourself from blushing red as a tomato.

You glanced down at what you'd stepped in and could have punched someone. The white paint that was being used on the storefront had spilled onto the sidewalk and of course, you'd stepped in it in your new, black shoes. You scraped the bottom of it off on the sidewalk, grumbling all the while. Natasha had let go of your hand when you'd tugged it away from her to wipe the excess paint on the side of your shoe onto the post of the 'no parking' sign next to you. It was still ruined, but at least you'd gotten enough off that you wouldn't stain the restaurant's floor.

"You weren't kidding with the bad luck, huh?"

You shook your head no. You motioned onward, though. She got the hint, and you closed the distance between you and the restaurant. You shifted your bag on your shoulder as you stepped in, hoping they wouldn't notice the wet paint you were tracking onto their floors. If you managed in and out without them seeing, you'd be alright. It was New York City. You were sure people had walked in with worse things on the underside of their shoes.

You watched Natasha closely as she gave her name for the reservation. You hated how the host eyed her even more than you hated how your Uber driver had eyed you this morning. You didn't want anyone to eye her like that. You wanted to be the only one allowed to look at her like that. You knew you weren't, though. You ripped your gaze away from where it had been travelling along her jawline just in time for the host to arrive and lead you to your table. You sat across from her, keeping your eyes down and you collected your thoughts.

"What are you having?"

When you looked up, her eyes were trained on you. Her eyes were your absolute favourite part of her. They always shone so brightly, and so clearly expressed whatever she was feeling. They sparkled like they could see into your very soul and were so deep you could get lost in them for hours. Even the colour was perfect. They were that amazing shade of green that had very quickly become your favourite colour. You often found you'd been staring into them for a little longer than what might be considered normal. Now was one of those times. You looked back down at the menu.

"I'm not sure. Definitely a drink," you hummed. "Though I might get poisoned."

She rolled her eyes. "I don't think your luck is so bad that your assassin will choose to poison you today."

No, because she would protect you from anything. She always had. You might have been a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent and perfectly capable of protecting yourself, but she was always stepping in front of you to defend you. You couldn't say you minded. You liked having her at your back. Some people had a physical location where they felt safe. You didn't. Natasha Romanoff was your safe place. When you were with her, you felt like nothing in the world could touch you. She wouldn't let anything hurt you, and you wouldn't let anything hurt her.

Soon enough the waitress was stepping up to your table and taking your order. You gave yours first, opting for a simple fettuccine alfredo. Natasha gave hers, unaware of the way you watched her lips moving as she talked. When the waitress left and she looked back to you, your eyes were cast toward the window, watching a young couple pass by, huddled close together in the cool March evening. When she called for your attention and you gave it immediately, looking over to her. She sipped her wine as you did.

"You said your car wouldn't start?" She said.

"Yeah. It keeps sputtering on and on."

"I'll drive you home and take a look at it tonight. I know a thing or two about cars."

It was a good thing she did, because you knew absolutely nothing about what was going on under the hood of the car. All you could think was that maybe the battery had died on you, but that wasn't possible. If you'd left the lights on, you would have been able to see it through the window in your bedroom the night previous, and you hadn't. There was no other reason the battery could have been drained. You'd driven the car yesterday from your house to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s New York location. You might not have known what the hell was wrong, but Natasha would figure it out in seconds. The thought of her bent over to study the underside of the hood made you shiver.

The image was pushed from your mind when the waitress returned with your food. She placed your pasta down in front of you and you thanked her politely. She set Natasha's down as well. The redhead smiled widely and after double-checking that everything was alright, the server left the two of you to your dinner. Natasha glanced up at you, a very amused smile playing on her lips. You knew exactly what it was about, too. You'd gotten the wrong order and said absolutely nothing of it. Honestly, you didn't really care. At this point in the day, you just wanted to eat.

"You could've said something," Natasha teased.

"It's nothing. I'm hungry and this is just as good."

"We can still say something."

"It's fine," you assured.

"Let's stop and buy you a couple hundred good luck charms on the way back to your place."

You laughed aloud.

Dinner was good, despite having gotten the wrong order. You suspected that was due to Natasha's presence. The two of you had been exchanging stores of the craziest missions you'd ever gone on. Of course, she was winning. She was an Avenger. Your missions as a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent were anything but boring, but they didn't compare to the alien invasion last year that Natasha had been at the heart of. You'd been helping from the edges of the city, evacuating civilians and the like, but you suspected she'd killed hundred more of the Chitauri than you did: one.

Before long you'd both finished, and the empty plates were cleared away. The server returned to you with the bill. You made sure your card was out before Natasha could even think about trying to pay. They collected your card, and you gave Natasha a very smug little smirk. She only rolled her eyes and thanked you softly. You thought all was said and done when the server returned. You prepared to leave but she shook her head, signalling you to stop what you were doing. She reached out, handing you your card back. You took it.

"I'm afraid the transaction isn't going through."

It seemed that your bad luck had struck again. You were fully confident that there was enough money in your account. There had been last night when you'd checked it, anyway. Either you'd had the misfortune of your card deciding to kick the bucket while you tried to buy dinner for Natasha, or even worse, someone had gotten into your bank account and cleared it out. That thought made your heart drop into your stomach as you reached for your phone, hardly noticing Natasha pulling out her own credit card this time.

You prayed for one tiny bit of luck today. Your prayers went unanswered. You logged into your online banking to find that someone had managed to get your credit card number and had been online shopping all day. Your card had long hit its limit and you were already dreading the phone call you were about to have with the bank. You huffed as you set your phone down roughly on the tabletop. Natasha glanced over at you as the server took her card this time. She raised an eyebrow. You were sure smoke was billowing from your ears.

"Luck isn't turning yet?"

You didn't answer that. "Thanks for dinner, Natasha."

She laughed. When the server returned her card and wished you both a good evening, she took your hand and dragged you back out the doors onto the noisy streets of New York. She was leading you back to S.H.I.E.L.D., where you knew she must have left her bike. When you got there, she scanned her ID and brought you both down into the parking garage. She brought you right to the motorbike and lifted the helmet off from where it was hanging on the handlebars. She reached out and set it on your head, doing it up underneath your chin. Her fingers brushed your skin as she worked at the straps.

"Normally I would never condone riding without a helmet, but I only have one. This head," she said, rapping her knuckles twice against the helmet on your head. "Is much more important than mine."

"Is not," you laughed. "There's hundreds of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, but there's only six Avengers."

"And there's only one you," she insisted. "The helmet stays on that pretty little head of yours, and that's final."

That compliment seemed to awaken the butterflies in your stomach. They were still present when you both climbed onto the bike. They fluttered even more when Natasha told you to put your arms around her and hold tight. You could have stayed like this forever if she'd asked you to. You almost wanted her to ask you to, because you loved the ways your arms fit perfectly around her waist. Facing forward, she wasn't able to see the smile that was growing on your lips. Maybe all that bad luck was to make up for this.

Reluctantly, you took your arms off from around her when she pulled into your driveway. She put the kickstand down and took the helmet once you'd pulled it off and handed it back to her. You straightened out your hair a little bit in the reflection of your car window. Wordlessly, Natasha had moved to the hood of your car and tapped on the red paint to get your attention. You unlocked the car and popped the hood for her. She unhooked the latch and lifted it up, studying the inside carefully. That scene you'd been picturing earlier was coming true before your eyes.

"Start the car for me?"

You nodded. You dropped your bag on the doorstep, digging through the pockets until your hand had closed around your car keys. You withdrew them by tugging on the dinosaur keychain that Natasha had once given you after winning it at the arcade, where you'd spent hours at all the different games. You slid into the front seat, turning on the car when Natasha gave you the thumbs up. The car sputtered loudly. Then it made a sound you might have mistaken for a gunshot. The backfire nearly made you jump out of your seat. You quickly got out.

"You alright, Nat?"

"I'm good," she nodded. She moved away from the car. "It's probably just your spark plugs. When's the last time you had them replaced?"

You raised an eyebrow. "Hell if I know. I drop it off for a tune-up and expect them to tune it up."

Natasha laughed. "I'll grab some tomorrow and replace them for you."

You nodded. You watched as she reached up and grabbed the hood of the car, closing it again. She rubbed her hands against her pants. You clicked a button on your car keys, locking the doors. The lights flashed to indicate that it was indeed secured. You fiddled with the keys in your hand to get the house key out, opening your mouth to invite Natasha in as well, but found you couldn't find the golden key. You growled at nothing and dug through every pocket in your bag to see if it had fallen off in there, but there was no trace of it.

"My house key is missing."

Natasha actually laughed at this. "Did you walk under a ladder this morning? Spill the salt? Break a mirror?"

You glared at her. "Can you help me get in through a window?"

She nodded. You both moved around to one of the windows that you'd left open last night, after telling her you weren't sure you had locked it when you shut it this morning. Indeed, she found that once you'd removed the screen, she was able to slide the window open. You linked your fingers together to make a spot for Natasha to use for leverage. You boosted her through the open window and then moved back to the front door just as you heard the deadbolt slide out of place.

"My hero," you grinned as she opened the door. "I owe you a drink. Come on."

"I still have to drive home."

"Stay the night," you offered. "If you don't, I could very well just get murdered tonight."

Natasha laughed. "Well, I'd better stay and make sure you're okay, then."

You smacked her gently. She knew her way around your small bungalow well, having visited what could have easily been a million times. She made herself at home on the couch, tossing her leather jacket beside her. You moved into the kitchen, only paying half a glance at the towels you'd thrown over the two spilled beverages. You poured the both of you a drink and then brought them into the living room, kicking back on the couch beside her. You grabbed the remote, clicking the TV on. The screen lit up the room. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed the beautiful face beside you that had been illuminated. You turned back to the screen.

"I can put Netflix on," you said, pressing a button. "What do you want to watch?"

"Can I test your luck?"

"What?" You responded, turning your full attention to her.

She didn't offer an explanation. You felt her hand touch your thigh. Your breath hitched and the remote almost fell to the floor. You managed to set it down on the table as your cheeks began to burn red. She left her hand there for a few seconds before it slid away, letting you take a moment to remember how to breathe. Her hand moved away and wrapped around her glass. You knew how obvious you were being when you watched her touch the rim to her lips and the slight movements in her neck as she swallowed the alcohol. You needed a drink too, but you were frozen.

"I just mean... I could either turn your luck around or just maintain the bad luck."

You still didn't know what she meant. She was setting her glass down on the coffee table. Her eyes searched yours and you were once again tossed into the sea of green that you were so obsessed with. When she leaned forward and connected your lips, though, you lost sight of emerald green. Her eyes had shut and only a second later, yours had fluttered shut as well. You put a hand on the back of her neck to hold her closer and moved your lips with hers. You wondered briefly if you were dreaming. You didn't have long with your thoughts. Your mind was so overcome with whatever was happening right now.

Natasha pulled back. Her hand had, at some point, moved back onto your thigh, and was resting there gently. Your hand moved to cover it. She flipped hers over so that her fingers could intertwine with yours and for the first time, it didn't feel like it was just in a friendly manner. It felt so much more than that, just liked you'd wanted it to. Your eyes moved from there up to her face. She had been studying you intently. You'd never seen Natasha Romanoff look nervous. Not until that very moment. You chuckled a little, nervousness in your chest as well, and let your eyes fall.

"You definitely turned it," was all you said.

"Yeah?"

"By a long shot. I mean, I think this amount of good luck was enough to actually balance out the bad luck."

You didn't know Natasha could giggle, but she did. The sound made a smile immediately spread over your face. You reached out and took her hands in your own. You leaned forward and kissed her again, infatuated with the feeling of her soft lips pressed against yours so rough and yet somehow so soft. One of your hands pulled out of hers so it could thread through the red waves on her head. You'd wanted to do that for so long. She only pulled back when you'd both lost your breath. Your forehead rested against hers and you could smell the whiskey on her breath.

"Do you know how long I've wanted that?" You breathed.

"I'd guessed it, but I thought it was just my imagination because I wanted the same thing."

You laughed. She put her hands on your shoulders, pushing your back down against the couch and then putting her knees on either side of your waist. Her lips were on yours again, a little hotter this time. You didn't complain. You just let her lean down over you and kiss you and run her hand down your side. You only raised a hand to her chest and pushed her away when you once more felt the need for oxygen burning inside your chest. She didn't move far, face inches from yours, studying you this time from above. You blushed under her gaze.

"I... I've felt really strongly about you for a while," you said, hand moving so you could trace your fingertips across her cheek. "You know what I mean?"

"Are you trying to tell me you love me without saying you love me?" She asked, the teasing back in her voice again. "Because you're not going to scare me off. You can say it if you want."

"I love you, Natasha."

"I love you, too."

You couldn't help but laugh. It wasn't funny in any way, but maybe it was the relief trying to find a way out of your body. The sound seemed to make Natasha's eyes, sparkle. Your heart softened and the laughter fell from your lips and you didn't move a muscle. Her face was so beautiful looking down at you like it was. You felt so right having her touch you like this and touching her the way you were. Her hands were holding her torso up above yours and yours were touching her face so gently. It wasn't like a friend touched a friend anymore.

"Thanks for turning my luck."

"Are you kidding me? I'm the lucky one."

"I think we're both really fucking lucky, Natasha. Thank you."

#natasha romanoff #natalia romanova #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #black widow x reader #mcu #marvel #wlw #lesbian

602 notes · View notes

soyouthinkucanwrite · 3 years

Text

What did he say? - Daniel Ricciardo one shot

Update: I just realized it's Carlos' birthday TODAY! I'm so so sorry hahaha I feel like a jerk, but it's just play pretend ok?

Guys, this is based on a dream I had but listen, it’s so weird cause I KNOW this is not like Carlos AT ALL. He’s kind of the vilan in this one... Please don’t be mad if you’re a Carlos fan, it’s just for fun, I swear. I’ll even try to write something with him later to make it up to you guys! Also, I clearly don't know how vacuum works in racing, so again, just humor me and pretend I got it right, ok?

As always, please take the time to let me know what you think, means a lot to me (even if it’s constructive criticism)! And thank you so much to everyone that always does! 💕 Your lovely messages always motivate me to keep writing!

Warnings: angst, jealous Daniel, kind of a dick Carlos (again, sorry! I know he’d never)

I was in the “side stage” at the press room for the Austin GP, the first I ever went and of course, the first with Daniel, as his girlfriend. He was answering questions along with Pierre Gasly on stage. There were a few people besides me, including some of the drivers, waiting for their turn to face the press.

"Coco, ¿quién es?" I heard Carlos Sainz whispering to his cousin, nodding his head in my direction.

"No conozco. ¿Creo que es periodista?" his cousin answered looking at me. I just acted like I wasn't listening, or understanding, not sure why though.

"No, si fuera periodista estaría allá fuera, haciendo preguntas" Carlos continued.

"Sí, pero no me parece estar perdida" his cousin commented, they kept whispering but I could hear them very clearly.

"Qué pena, no me importaría darte direcciones" Carlos said with a smirk and I felt really uncomfortable at that, which only made me stay even more frozen in place and wish Daniel came back sooner.

"Si no te conociera, diría que acabas de romper una relación. Ni siquiera puedes ver a una chica alrededor" his cousin said hitting him playfully in the head.

"¿Y te parece esta una chica cualquier? Siempre debes andar con supermodelos, ¿no?" Carlos joked back.

"Vale, tienes razón" his cousin answered him and I was counting the seconds for Daniel to come back now.

"Pero sin duda es nueva aquí. Me recordaría de algo como eso. Tampoco pienso ser americana, ellas no tienen esta-" Just then someone called him.

"Sainz, you're up next" Daniel walked out, coming by my side. "Hey" he said to me and I smiled. "They just asked to wait 5 minutes, something about changing the batteries of the mics" he said looking back at Carlos, his cousin, and Kimi, who was going to be pairing with Carlos in the press conference and was just hanging in the corner by himself this whole time.

"Alright, thanks mate" Carlos answered.

"Hey, have you guys met (y/n)? Carlos, Carlos, (y/n)... (y/n), Carlos, Carlos" Daniel made the introductions grinning like a teenager, probably finding it super funny that they had the same first name.

"¡Hola! Mucho gusto en conocerlos, soy (y/n). ¿Como están?" I extended my hand to greet them, feeling much more confident now that I had a 5' 9" Australian by my side. They looked startled at me and then at each other.

“¿Hablas español?” Carlos asked me.

“Sí, y compreendo muy bien también” I told him and my tone made it clear I knew exactly what they were talking about earlier and didn’t like it a bit.

"Carlos, Kimi, they're ready for you" an assistant called.

"Good one kid" Kimi said to me when he walked past us, winking at Daniel. Carlos followed him to the stage and since I didn't want to just stand there in the remains of the awkward situation with Dan and Carlos’ cousin, I just walked in the opposite direction, outside the press room. Not too long after, Daniel walked after me.

"Hey, what was that about?" he asked, still smiling. Boy, he wouldn't be smiling for too long after I told him what that was about.

"What?" I asked, trying not to make a big deal. He reached for my hand, taking it in his.

"You know what. Come on, what happened back there? Did you guys know each other?"

"No!" I have to tell him now, or he'll think I have something to hide. I took a deep breath. "They were talking between themselves before you come out, in Spanish. And I don't think they thought I could understand" he looked at me confused but then it hit him and his expression changed from confusion to rage.

"What did they said?"

"Nothing, it's not a big deal ok? I just wanted to let them know I could understand, so I just said 'hello' in Spanish, that's all" I said, walking away from the place where we were standing and pulling his hand. God knows I didn't want to be there when Carlos walked out, or better, for Daniel to be there.

"I figured that much. But what did he said? Just tell me" Daniel looked at me.

"Let's just go? Please? It's not worth it. What are you going to do? Sucker punch him?"

"Do I need to sucker punch him? Is it that bad?"

"No! Dan, please, let's just go. This is not going to lead us anywhere"

"(y/n)"

"I'll tell you. Promise. Back at the trailer, okay?" I tried to negotiate.

"Fine"

When we stepped back inside his driver's room, Daniel closed the door and looked at me.

"Alright. Spill it"

"Promise me you won't do anything to him"

"Absolutely not. The longer you stall me, the more pissed off I get"

"Okay” I knew I had no choice and honestly, why should I protect him really? I’m just worried about how this might make Daniel feel. “They were wondering who I was, his cousin was teasing him saying he was only interested because he just ended a relationship"

"That's not all" he said and I didn't answer, just looked away, shaking my head. "Alright. I'm sorry you had to hear that. But you can tell me these things ok? I want to protect you baby" He said stepping closer to me and hugging me.

"I don't want you to cause trouble for something stupid"

"Hey!" he said pulling away a bit to look at me. "This is not stupid. Nothing about you is stupid. It's a big deal baby, that’s plain disrespectful. I want you here with me, always. And I want you to feel comfortable here, okay?"

"I feel comfortable now" I said hugging him closer. He smiled and kissed the top of my head.

"Fuckers" he whispered to himself.

"Promise me you won't confront him. He'll deny, or start a fight. Or both. And besides, it’s not so much what he said, it’s more like how they were eyeing me. And I don't want you to get involved in a scandal" I said pulling away and sitting down in a chair. Daniel leaned against the table, looking at me.

"A scandal?" he laughed.

"You do know gossip is the major product of motorsports, right?" I smirked at him.

"Fair enough" he agreed. "Fuck baby, the things I have to deal with for having a goddess as a girlfriend" he was joking now, so the mood seemed lighter, but knowing Daniel, I knew he hadn't completely let that go yet. I just rolled my eyes at him. Hopefully, the events of the weekend would be enough to get his mind out of it.

Friday and Saturday kept us busy enough so that we didn’t touch the subject anymore, but I could still catch Daniel staring at Carlos here and there. And I could definitely see Carlos staring at me too, which I tried to avoid at all costs, staying out of his visual field. If Daniel saw that, I don’t know if I’d be able to hold him back again.

On Sunday I’d be watching from the garage with Michael and Blake, which was super exciting, to see all the action from the front row. But I didn’t want to disturb Daniel’s routine, so I tried to stay back a little. Yet, he kept coming to steal kisses and joke around. He seemed really relaxed and confident. He was P5 and I took the care to see that Carlos was P8, so I knew they might race each other eventually but I also knew that Dan would be much more preoccupied doing what he does best and overtaking the 4 in front of him to even think about whoever was behind. Everything was going to be fine, no harm done.

“Alright. Time to go” he announced to me. “Kiss for good luck?”

“Good luck. Just go and do what you do best, okay? And try to come back in one piece” I smiled through the kiss and then watched him take his helmet from the table, wink at me, and turn to walk towards his Mclaren. My chest was tight but I could only pray and hope now.

The cars were already outside the garage for some reason, so Dan was walking out when Carlos passed in front of the orange crew. He stopped to greet some of them and that would be fine, except he was not paying any attention to the people he was talking to. He was looking inside the garage like he was looking for something, or rather someone, cause when he saw me he nodded like he was greeting me and checked me out, head to toes. Dan saw it and looked back inside just in time to see me step aside, behind Michael, clearly uncomfortable with the whole thing.

“Hey... man” Carlos greeted Daniel. And his tone made me sure that it wasn’t even about me anymore. Carlos knew how much it must be bothering Daniel and was clearly using it to try and get him pissed off and unfocused. The thing is, very few things were capable of getting Daniel out of his “all good all ways” vibe, but when they did, you definitely don’t want to be on his way. I’m actually a bit worried about the other drivers now, Carlos included, because Dan just turned back to his machine, like he knew exactly what he was going to do and nothing would stop him, getting inside the car a mere formality. He didn’t even bother to take a second look at Carlos.

“Oh boy” I commented.

“Yeah, I saw it” Michael said to me. “What was that about anyway? I thought they got along fine”. I don’t say anything else, and from that moment on my eyes are glued to the screen in front of us, following any micro movement Daniel makes.

They go for the warm-up lap, which feels like it takes forever, and then, finally, Grid formation. That sign must be broken cause the lights also took hours to change.

3, 2, 1... there they go. Thank god we’re wearing masks, otherwise, my nails and fingertips would be long gone.

The first turn is a sharp one and Daniel had an opening to overtake Perez, the first driver in front of him, we could see it clearly from the drone view, but he didn’t take it. What is he doing?

“What is he doing?” Somebody in the garage voiced my thoughts.

“You had an opening Daniel” the engineer said on the radio.

“All under control. I know what I’m doing. How far are the others behind me?” Daniel answered.

I hoped he wasn’t doing what I thought he was doing but I already knew he was. Being the risk-it-all-idiot he was, Dan was waiting for Carlos to catch up to him. Knowing him, I knew he wanted to race and beat him personally, which was crazy stupid, but wouldn’t take long since Carlos had already overtaken Gasly and Alonso, and was now only a few nanoseconds behind Daniel.

“Come on Dan” I said to myself.

“Come on Daniel” Blake practically yelled at the screen.

I feel like throwing up. He’s gonna get hurt and jeopardize all the work the team put into the weekend just to... to what? I don’t even know. If he gets out of this race alive, I’ll personally kill him.

The race’s still going, no major changes after the first turn. Then suddenly Daniel seems to remember he had a gas pedal, finally getting speed in the big straight and leaving Perez behind. Carlos followed him, seeming to use the vacuum in his favor. Everybody in the garage celebrates, but I’m too focused to cheer along. He’s so close to the podium now. Just keep it up, baby. Carlos is still on his tail.

“Good job mate” the engineer says on the radio. “Watch for Sainz on your right. Bottas’ next”

“Keep me posted on Sainz’s time” it’s all Daniel says.

A couple more laps go and he’s really trying to overtake Bottas, not playing games anymore. Carlos doesn’t seem to try to overtake him even once though, he’s too far behind still.

More laps go by and I can’t standstill. When they’re in the 19th lap, with Max and Hamilton battling each other and taking turns in the lead, Daniel’s voice comes on the radio.

“Let’s be the first to box” I’m not sure what he’s playing at, as it’s still too soon to box, but the team seems to agree.

“Copy that. I’ll let you know when. Let’s get a couple more laps in. Keep this up for now” his engineer answers.

“Understood” Daniel’s voice come through the radio. “How’s Sainz time?”

“At least 1.5 seconds behind you” the engineer informs him.

“Understood” Daniel says.

He’s planning something. Not sure what, and I don’t know if I even could, not knowing much about racing strategies, but it definitely has something to do with Carlos and what happened earlier.

“Ouch!” I hear Michael say and nod towards the screen, making me focus on the race again, and not only on Daniel. Max and Hamilton had touched tires. “They're really going at it, definitely using way more tires than necessary"

"If Dan box before them..." I begin to ask.

"He needs a fast box, gaining speed later and for their box to be slower, but yeah, that's his best shot at them" Michael explains to me.

"Come on baby" I whisper to myself.

Daniel seems to finally get close enough to Bottas, but the Finnish guy won't make it easy for him. Turn 11 on sector 2 will be his best shot now and it's getting closer.

The garage and the radio go silent. Feels like the whole world is holding their breaths while Daniel smoothly overtakes Bottas from his left. And then I almost go deaf with all the cheering around me, it's a podium for Daniel, for now.

Unfortunately, that doesn't seem to last too long, cause once he comes to the box all the other drivers will pass him. It's just so frustrating.

"Good job mate. Spectacular time. Box now" the engineer informs on the radio.

"Box confirmed. We need to ace this, boys" Daniels says.

Not even a full minute later, I hear his car and see it on the screen. I look outside to see the orange machine with the big 3 in front of it, but I don't even have time to try and take a look at him, cause 2.3 seconds later (or at least that's what the TV tells me) there he goes again. The good news is, only Bottas passed him. The bad news is he almost crashes into Carlos when he comes out of the Pit Lane.

Some of the crew were still celebrating the fast pit stop when they realized what happened. I let out a gasp. They touched tires but Carlos seemed to have managed to get away from Daniel, quickly returning to his side a moment later but struggling to keep it up. Dan, on the other side, seems unbothered. He keeps gaining speed, even though the pit exit is right on the first turn.

"Take it easy now mate, even if Sainz passes you, his time is not enough to stay in front" the engineer informs Daniel, clearly worried that the risk doesn't justify the ends.

"Understood" Daniel responds.

We're on lap 30 now and just as the engineer said, Carlos is a full 2 seconds behind Daniel. Bottas still in front of him (which is frustrating for me because he had just overtaken him before the pit stop), then Hamilton, and finally Max.

"Daniel" the engineer calls him. "How're the tires?"

"All good"

"Good. Ready to race, mate? Hamilton's going to box now"

"Before Bottas?"

"Yes, that's confirmed"

"Understood"

I listen to the conversation between Daniel and the engineer closely, but I can't say I know exactly what the implications are.

"Bottas' going to second, Daniel to third again. Let's hope for a slow pitstop for Hamilton, so when he comes out, he comes in third and races Daniel. That's the best-case scenario, so he needs to gain speed now" Blake explains to me.

"Got it" I confirm to him. "What about Bottas? He should box on the next lap right?"

"Yeah. If Daniel overtakes him still on this lap, the difference will be too big for him to recover after his pit stop. Hopefully" He tells me.

There's a lot of 'hopefullys' and 'best-case scenarios' in this conversation, but I'll take it. I start to silently pray right away, eyes glued to the screen to see exactly what Blake predicted unfold: Hamilton pit stops, Bottas and Daniel are the firsts to go up on the positions, then Carlos, Alonso, and Gasly. The first turn comes again and Dan seises the opportunity to overtake Bottas, who, to his credit, is fighting real hard, but Dan isn't letting him take back his position.

Dan is P2 now. Max is almost 3 seconds in front of him. Hamilton comes out of the pit lane behind Gasly, it should take him long to again his positions.

"Bottas to box on this lap mate" the engineer announces.

"Not worried about Bottas. What about Max?" Daniel answers. A few moments of silence follow.

"Box confirmed for Max on this lap as well. Just get closer to him" the engineer instructs.

"Understood" Daniel answers.

"Come on, baby" I cheer silently again.

"Fuck! He's gonna make it" Michael yells. "Come on Daniel!"

Bottas is 2 seconds behind Daniel, and on the big straight Daniel manages to shorten his time difference to Max to 1.8 seconds. The next thing I know, Max is coming down the pit lane, quickly followed by Bottas. Daniel is P1. I can't believe this. Carlos is P2, but he hasn't boxed yet. Surprisingly enough, Alonso is P3 and, not so surprisingly, Hamilton is already P4 and gaining speed.

"Alonso hasn't boxed yet" Blake comments. That's bad news if we were hoping for him to defend his position against Hamilton. I take a look on the TV and they're showing the conditions of his tires, which to me doesn't mean anything.

"Will he be able to hold him?" I ask Blake.

"Not sure, he's tough though and doesn't want Hamilton to win, that's for sure" Blake answers me.

Then we hear Max passing outside, had almost forgotten about him.

"That took him longer than normal" Michael comments and we look at the screen, his pit stop was 3.6 seconds long. An eternity for the Redbull team. But awesome news for us. Bottas had already left the pit lane, his pit stop was 2.4 seconds long.

The grid is now Daniel, Carlos, Alonso, Hamilton, Bottas, and then Max. Alonso is still holding Hamilton back. Normally, I'd guess Carlos would box soon and maybe even Alonso, but since I know Carlos has some personal motivation against Daniel, I feel like he's going to hold on the longer he can and the same goes for Alonso regarding Hamilton.

We're at the final 10 laps now and nothing has changed, except Carlos is dangerously closer to Daniel now. Alonso still hasn't let Hamilton go by him, repeating the Hungaroring events. I hear the signal of the radio, indicating we're about to hear some communication between Daniel and his engineer, and my chest tightens. It's Daniel's voice that comes on then.

"Something wrong. I'm losing power" Fuck. No.

"Sainz is at your tail. Can you hold on?" the engineer asks.

"I don't know. Fuck. It's just not working. How much's the difference?"

"Less than 1 second"

"Fuck. Why hasn't he boxed yet?"

"His tires are in real bad condition. But I don't think he's going to do it now"

"I'll put some pressure on him"

"Negative. Negative. Stay away"

"Not going to touch him. Pinky promise" Bastard. I can hear the smirk in his voice, even though this is extremely dangerous and insane pressure, Daniel's still having the time of his life.

9 laps to go.

8 laps to go.

Carlos almost overtakes Daniel.

"Engine's not good. Can you do something?" Daniel asks.

"Negative. 7 laps to go mate, just hold it"

"Understood"

On the big straight of the 51st lap, Carlos overtakes Daniel, but then on the next turn, Daniel takes back his position. The sequel of turns that follows is the most nerve-wracking thing I've ever seen in my life, they're so close to each other, and at such a high speed that if they simply touch tires they would fly off the track and everything would be lost to both of them, maybe even their lives.

"Hamilton passed Alonso, mate. Watch out" the engineer informs him, and I look at the screen. Fuck.

"Fuuuuck" Daniel says on the radio.

It's the 52nd lap now, only 4 more to go and Carlos doesn't even signal a pit stop. He's going to try to make the whole race without it.

"Ferrari is not happy with him" Michael laughs a dark laugh. I knew he had a history of being stubborn but this is too much.

"His tires are at less than 10% integrity. How is he still going?" I ask.

There's the big straight again and Carlos falls a bit behind Daniel, but I've watched enough to know that that doesn't necessarily mean a good thing. Just as I predicted, he tries to use Daniel's vacuum to gain more speed and overtake him, Daniel doesn't let him through and get in front of him, making him almost go off track. That would be a "normal" movement, except Hamilton was using Carlos' vacuum in his favor and, when Carlos is forced to change directions, Hamilton hits his back left tire, which makes it blows off and it's a mess from then on.

Daniel is far from the whole ordeal by now, safe and sound, thankfully. But Carlos spins in the track, taking Hamilton with him. They both go off track and Max flies by, followed by Bottas, Charles (where did he come from?), and then Alonso.

"Are they alright?" It's the first thing that comes up to me to ask.

"Fuck! That was crazy. Is everyone ok?" Daniel asks on the radio.

"Positive. Everyone's ok. Keep going, mate. 3 more laps to go" the engineer informs him.

"Who's behind me now? Bottas?" Daniel asks.

"Max. But he's at least 2 seconds behind, we should be fine" I hear the engineer say and it's like I can almost breathe again. Daniel's going to win this thing. He's so close now.

"It wasn't Daniel's fault, was it? Can they punish him in some way for the accident?" I ask Michael.

"Don't know. He was defending his position, but he's been closing in Carlos ever since the begging of the race. Depends on how Ferrari and Mercedes spin this, they'll try anything that favors them" Michael explains to me in a worried tone.

They're in the final lap and Daniel's been clearly losing speed. Something's wrong with the engine. But it's the final lap, just a few more moments, come on baby, you can do it. Max is so close to him though, I wouldn't be surprised if the winner was declared based on the replay of the finishing line. The big straight comes up and Dan has to stay out of Max's front, so as to not give him any advantages.

I can barely see it, but at the same time, I can't take my eyes off the screen.

"Full force now mate, final sector. You can win this" the engineer says on the radio but Daniel doesn't respond. Max is right by his side, he's going to pass him.

There's smoke coming out of his car, the whole thing is going to blow off any second now. Oh my god, please just a few more seconds.

5 turns to go.

4 turns to go.

3 turns to go. Max overtakes him. Shit.

2 turns to go. Daniel wins his place on the podium back.

Final turn. Daniel's in the front, barely. They cross the finish line and the whole garage explores with cheering. There are people running outside to wave at him. I can only smile and hold my own head like it would fall off otherwise. He did it. He fucking did it.

"Woo-hoo! Yes! Yes! Fuck yes!" I can hear Daniel on the radio, screaming his lungs out.

"Good job mate. Spectacular work. First-class, really! Well done!" the engineer cheers on.

The next thing I know, Michael is hugging me and lifting me from the ground just to puck me back down and Blake lift me up again. I can only laugh at their excitement. I'm so happy for Daniel I can barely grasp it!

"Let's go!" Blake puts me down and runs outside the garage. I follow him out, to the place where Daniel is stopping the car, a bunch of smoke coming out and some people with fire extinguishers around it.

He's got his fists up, celebrating. But is still inside the car. Then he takes off the steering wheel and handles it to one of the mechanics waiting outside. He gets out of the car and stands on top of it, smokes still coming out from behind. It's a nice picture. I just hoped he got away from that thing before it explodes, but it's a nice picture, can't deny it.

Then he jumps down and run towards the crew, jumping over them, helmet still on. Everybody is celebrating and cheering, I can only laugh and clap at the scene before me. So much joy and happiness going on, the energy is amazing! Then I can see Daniel looking around, but since his helmet is still on, I have no idea what he's doing. Somebody seems to understand though and they wave at me, calling me to come closer. I approach, but I'm still unsure, don't want to get in the middle of the team's celebration. But Daniel grabs me, pulling me closer and hugging me. I just laugh, can't barely see him with the suit and helmet still on. He's saying something, but I can't understand a thing.

"What?" I laugh at his attempts to communicating with me. He opens his helmet visor and repeats.

"I fucking won baby!" He yells laughing.

"I know! I know! You won Dan! I'm so proud! You're the best baby!"

"I need to get this thing off" he says struggling to get the helmet and the balaclava off, when he finally manages to do it, he jumps over the fence that was separating us and hugs me again, lifting me in the air and kissing me deeply, making everyone around us cheer even louder and I smile against his lips. I wrap my legs around him and he keeps kissing me, only after a few seconds do I pull away to breathe and he touches our foreheads. I laugh again, just enjoying the feeling of pure happiness for him.

"I'm so proud of you. You were so good. This is crazy" I whisper to him.

"Get used to it, cause there's more where it came from" he answers kissing me again.

#daniel ricciardo #Daniel ricciardo fic #daniel ricciardo one shot #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 one shot #daniel ricciardo fluff #daniel ricciardo x reader

191 notes · View notes

atlafan · 4 years

Text

Part One - “Call me Jane.”

a/n: here’s part one of nanny!H, I’m very excited about this series. I’m not sure how many parts it’s going to be, so please don’t ask lmao. Once I know how many parts it’ll be, I’ll make a master post for it. I’m just too excited not at least share the first part because Harry is just too cute in this! Feedback and reblogs are super helpful, and keep me motivated, especially when it comes to writing series. (not proofread) You can support me here if you’re able!

Warnings: none...for now

Words: 4.1K

Pairing: Harry x OC (Jane Watson)

Master Post

Harry found himself in a real bind. He was twenty-six years old, had an early childhood education degree, and the daycare he worked at was going under. He had just been promoted a month prior too, how could things go wrong so quickly? Times like this he really hated that he stayed in the states. Childcare services weren’t nearly as fucked up back home. His dream was to save up enough money to open up his own pre-school at some point, but it was really tough.

There was this weird stigma that if adult men wanted to work with babies and toddlers then that made them a pedophile or something of the sort. That wasn’t the case with Harry. His minor in school was psychology because cognitive development intrigued him. He also loved babies and little ones. He loved watching them learn and discover.

Only now, he was without a job in an already struggling field. He and the other employees weren’t exactly given a big notice before they were told the business was going under. Harry mostly felt bad for the parents of the kids that had to find new child care centers. He knew he’d have to compete with his co-workers for any available jobs, and he knew they were bound to find places before him because they were women. It was their fault, and he knew it. He was experiencing a prejudice that they must face all the time.

He looked into Care.com, but none of the jobs on there seemed like long-term gigs, and he didn’t want to just be a glorified baby sitter. He figured if he could find a well paying nannying job, he could do that for a bit until finding a job at a new facility, or even set up his dream pre-school. During his search on Indeed, he saw a position for a live-in nanny – jackpot! Live-in meant long-term, and long-term meant lots of money. It also meant he could get rid of his apartment and not have to pay rent for a while. He clicked on the ad that was posted only a couple of weeks ago.

Live-in Nanny Needed for Help with Eight-Month-Old

Minimum requirements:

· Bachelor’s in either early childhood education or elementary education

· At least two years’ experience working babies/children

Three professional references required

Applicant is subject to thorough background check for the safety of the child and mother.

Other tasks as needed include:

· Cooking

· Light cleaning

· Grocery shopping/running other errands

If applicant is selected, they will be paid a flat rate of $1600 bi-weekly, will live in “in-law” section of the house, and a car will be provided for them. A resume, cover letter, and three professional references may be sent directly to [email protected]

After reading everything over, this seemed like Harry’s best bet. Some of it seemed a little too good to be true, but this was a risk he needed to take right now. He just hoped the position hadn’t already been filled. That night he spent some time updating his LinkedIn, making sure all of his privacy settings were up to date on all of his social media, and then wrote out a resume and cover letter. The last part was his least favorite because he knew a proper resume and cover letter had to be curated to the specific job, and it made things all the more tedious. By the time he was done, it was late. He didn’t want to seem unprofessional, so he waited to send the email until the next morning.

Subject: Nannying Advert on Indeed

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Good morning,

My name is Harry and I’m interested in the nannying advert you’ve posted on Indeed. For the last four years I’ve been working at P.B. & J.’s Child Care Center, and was recently promoted to team lead. Unfortunately, the business itself couldn’t remain afloat, and I was laid off.

Attached are my resume and cover letter. I’d be happy to provide the three references if I end up being considered for the position.

Thank you for your time and consideration,

Harry

Treat People With Kindness

He closes his laptop with a satisfied sigh after proofreading his email ten different times before he hit send. He takes a sip from his coffee, and sits back on his sofa. Now all he had to do was wait.

There was radio silence for two days. Harry was starting to think he would need to keep job hunting. He had bills to pay, and the last thing he wanted to do was ask his parents for help. They already looked down on his profession as it was. If he had his own car he’d become an uber driver or something, but he didn’t so he couldn’t. Then, by some stroke of luck, at 4:55PM on a Thursday, he gets an email from the address he had been hoping to see pop up.

Subject: Re: Nannying Advert on Indeed

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Good evening Harry,

My name is Jane Watson, thank you so much for your application. My apologies it has taken me a couple of days to get back to you. I am usually more responsive, but things have been a little crazy at work as of late. Upon further review of your resume and over letter, I would like to offer you an interview this Saturday at noon, if you are available. I can be flexible if that day and time do not work for you.

If you are able to come, and are still interested in the position, I ask that you please bring your references with you. I will want to call them right away. I am sure you can understand me wanting to thoroughly look into you before letting you into my daughter’s life.

I look forward to hearing back from you soon.

All my best,

Jane

Harry responded to her right away, he didn’t care how eager he seemed. He told her Saturday at noon worked great, and that he would definitely have his references, and anything else he needed to provide. She emailed him back an hour or so later with her cell phone number and address. For the first time in a while, Harry felt like he could breathe again. He knew it wasn’t a done deal that he’d be getting the job, but he was being given a chance, and for that he was thankful.

He wanted to make a good first impression on Saturday, so he made sure to wash his hair in the shower, and use his good mousse so his hair would look more orderly. He shaved to give himself that clean and sleek look, this was not a day to appear scruffy. He knew he didn’t need to be overly dressed up, but he also knew that you’re supposed to dress for the job you want and not the job you have. He irons a pair of tan slacks and pairs it with a blue button up. Not to brag, but his bum looked great in these slacks, and it was giving him all the confidence in the world. He puts on a floral tie, just to show a bit of his personality, makes sure his nail polish isn’t chipped, and makes sure all of his rings are looking shiny. He takes an uber out to Jane’s house. It was in a gated community, which he was expecting since he looked up the house beforehand. He wondered what she or her husband did for work to live in a place like this. Or perhaps she inherited the home? Either way, he was excited.

He thanks the driver, and knocks on the door as he was instructed to do. A woman with silver hair that was up in a nice bun opens the door.

“Hello, you must be Mr. Styles.” She smiles.

“Yes, hello.” He smiles back.

“I’m MaryAnne, please come in.” She steps aside to let Harry in.

“Thank you.”

“Miss Watson is just pumping, but you can wait for her here in her office.” She leads Harry down a corridor where he meets a grand double door. MaryAnne opens them and shows him inside. “Make yourself comfortable, dear. Can I get you anything? Coffee, water, tea?”

“I’m all set, but thank you very much.”

The woman nods and leaves him in the room alone. He stays standing as he didn’t want to assume where he should be sitting. There was a gorgeous desk with two chairs on the other side, but there was also a small round table with four chairs around it in the corner. She clearly held a lot of meetings here, or so it would seem. To pass the time he looks over her bookshelves, scanning over what she might be into. She seemed to be into fiction, but he had never heard of any of the books on some of the shelves, or the author. She had several by the same person. Before he could look further, he heard the clacking of heels on the hardwood floors approaching him.

Everything stopped when she walked in. Jane had her hair up in a flowing ponytail, a white blouse covered her top half, he notices that the first few buttons were left undone, probably to help with her pumping, and she had a black pencil skirt on that just came to her knees. She was short, and a little voluptuous, not that Harry was checking her out.

“Hello, Mr. Styles, I’m sorry to keep you waiting.” He goes to stick his hand out for her to shake, but she walks around him and sits down at her desk. “Please, have a seat.”

He swallows and sits down.

“Y-you can just call me Harry if you like, Mrs. Watson.”

“I’m a Miss not a missus.” She says as she takes out a folder with a few sheets in it and a pen. “It says here you graduated Summa Cum Laude from Lesley University. That’s an incredible place to get a degree in education.”

“Thank you, I got a pretty decent scholarship, it was my reach school. I minored in psychology as well. I did my practicum hours at a daycare center that specialized in caring for children with disabilities. So, I’ve worked with all sorts of children. I prefer working with infants and toddlers, though.”

“And why is that?” She looks at him, clicking her pen, ready to take notes.

“Well, I just have more fun with them, to be honest. I like watching them discover new things. My favorite thing to do while working in the baby room at my last job was working with the babies on their tummy times. It was always rewarding to watch them get stronger. I feel like I just bond with them better.”

“I need to ask you some personal questions since this is a live-in position.”

“Of course.” Harry nods.

“Are you in any sort of relationship with anyone?”

“No, I’m single.”

“Have you ever been arrested, or do you have any sort of criminal history?”

“No.”

“I’m not one to judge, I think everyone deserves a second chance, I just have to ask these sort of things.” She says.

“I don’t have a criminal record, Miss Watson.”

“History of drug use?”

“I smoked a bit of weed when I was younger, but I don’t anymore. An edible once in a while, maybe, but never when I’m on the clock.”

“Just marijuana?”

“I’ve done shrooms a few times, but nothing other than that. Stupid kid stuff.”

“Again, not judging. I’d prefer you don’t have any drugs in the house, unless they’re for medical use. I know edibles can be prescribed by doctors for anxiety and whatnot.” Harry nods at that. ��What about alcohol? You’re twenty-six, you must enjoy a drink after a long day.”

“A glass of red once in a while, sure.” He nods. “But I’m not really a heavy drinker, I never have been. I’d say if anything I’m a social drinker, but you watch me carefully at a party you’ll notice that I nurse the same drink.” He smirks.

“I’m the same way. A little bit of a buzz is fun, but anything more can be a bit scary. I actually cannot remember the last time I had a real drink.” She looks off in thought.

“Well, can’t you drink now that the baby’s here?”

“And have to succumb to a pump and dump?” She scoffs. “No way, that would be a total waste. It’s torture enough to sit there while a machine sucks the milk out of my-“ She stops herself. “Sorry.” She shakes her head. “Anyways, your resume was impressive, and you were quite articulate in your cover letter. You’re the only candidate I’ve invited for an interview.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” She nods. “I really wanted someone with experience, not someone fresh out of college looking for a place to live. You’d really be okay with living here?”

“Honestly, you’d be doing me a favor. My long-term goal is to either have a daycare or pre-school of my own someday. Not having to pay rent for a while would really help me save up for that.”

“That’s an incredible goal to have, Harry.” She smiles, impressed by his ambition. “What questions do you have for me?”

“I just want to clarify, your daughter is eight months?” Jane nods. “And what’s her name?”

“Lilly.” Jane smiles.

“That’s a beautiful name.” Harry smiles. “Why exactly do you need a live-in nanny?”

“I work a lot.” She sighs. “And I’m a single mom. I want her to always have someone here that she can depend on and feel comfortable with. Sometimes my work drags me out in the middle of the night, or I have to take a phone call at an odd hour. I just want someone else here in case I can’t be if something comes up.”

“So, her father’s not in the picture?”

“No.” Her features sour a bit. “He doesn’t even know she exists to be perfectly honest with you. I found out I was pregnant after we broke up, and I decided not to tell him about her. He was a deadbeat moocher, he would have been useless.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, but thank you for telling me. May I ask, how old are you?”

“Twenty-nine, does that matter?”

“No! No, I was just more so curious. You seem pretty successful to be in a home like this. In the advert, you stated I’d be given a car as well, that’s not exactly cheap.”

“You’ll be given access to one of my cars.” She says. “I’m not giving you a car, make no mistake about that.” She smirks. “I’m an author, a successful one.” Harry tries to think if he’s ever heard of a Jane Watson before, but he’s coming up blank. “You’ve never heard of me because I have a pen name. If it’s all the same, I don’t really want to share it with you. Not yet, anyways.”

“Sure…wait…are you offering me the job?”

“Not quite. I’d like you to meet my daughter. I want to see how she interacts with you.”

“I’d love to meet Lilly.” He smiles.

“Great, before we do that, do you have more questions?”

“Yes, who’s MaryAnne? Is she, like, a maid or housekeeper?”

“No.” Jane laughs. “She’s my personal assistant. I usually answer the door myself, but pumping took a bit longer than usual.”

“When did you publish your first work?”

“When I was twenty.” She smiles. “I was still in school, and I decided just to self-publish. It took off, and a few companies reached out to me. I eventually got an agent, and the rest was history. I’m a fast writer, I’m able to churn out more projects than most people, and for whatever reason they keep becoming hits. One of the reasons I travel a lot is that a couple of my works are being turned into television shows, and working out those contracts is a lot. I want to be a part of the process to make sure the stories are told correctly.”

“That’s incredible!”

“it is.” She nods. “I never thought I’d be a television producer, but here I am. I don’t really want Lilly around all that, so there’s another reason for having a live-in nanny.”

“This may seem like a silly question, but will I have time off?”

“Oh my goodness, of course! The salary is negotiable as well. You’ll have weekends off, as well as all bank and national holidays. You’ll also earn vacation time and sick leave like at any other job. You’ll be given a benefits package as well, if you need health insurance.”

“You…you provide stuff like that?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”

“I’ve just never heard of a nannying job quite like this before.” He blinks. “It feels too good to be true.”

“I’m just a firm believer in compensating someone properly. I believe in investing in the people you have.”

“Right.” He swallows. He almost starting to feel like he was going to be her sugar baby or something, but he obviously knew that wasn’t the case. “You asked me about my dating life, what about yours?”

“I’m also single. Lilly is my top priority, and then comes my work. I’m completely fulfilled as is.” She stands from her desk. “Come, I’ll give you a tour of the house, and of the in-law space, and then you can meet Lilly.”

“Okay.” He stands up and follows her out of the office.

She shows him the living room, which felt more like a study. There was an entertainment room with a huge flat screen, deluxe loungers, a pool table, and bar. She shows him to the kitchen which was equally as extravagant. She brings him upstairs to show him all of the bedrooms.

“This is Lilly’s room.” Jane says proudly.

“it’s beautiful, I love the light purple.”

“So do I.” She says. “My room is down the hall, don’t think you need a tour of that.” She laughs and they head back downstairs. “Here’s the inside entrance to the in-law, but there’s also an exterior entrance you can use…or if you have guests over.” Harry’s in awe of the space. It was larger than his apartment. “It’s a one bedroom flat essentially. There’s a full bath en suite, and there’s a half bath over there. Open concept kitchen and living area. It’s fully furnished as well. Feel free to decorate it however you like. I just ask that this space stays yours. There’s really no reason for you to bring Lilly in here, you know?”

“Sure, yeah. This is amazing.”

“I’m glad you like it. Let’s just hope Lilly like you.” Jane smirks, and they head back to the main part of the house, and into Lilly’s playroom. She was sitting with MaryAnne in a large rocking chair. “M, you can feel free to go back to your office if you like. Harry’s going to get acquainted with Lilly.”

“Of course.” MaryAnne stands up with the baby, and hands her over to Jane.

“She has an office here too?” Harry asks.

“Of course she does, and one of the guest rooms upstairs is hers to use when she needs it.” She kisses the top of her daughter’s head. “Lilly,” she coos, “I have someone I’d like you to meet.” She gestures for Harry to take her, and he happily does so.

“Hey, baby girl.” Harry coos. Bright hazel eyes look up at him in wonder. He lets her latch onto his index finger. “It’s so nice to meet you.” He looks at Jane. “She’s precious, Miss Watson.”

“Isn’t she?” Jane beams. “She’s really been enjoying her bouncy, and messing around with her blocks. I have some CD’s I like having her listen to as well. Oh! We did a paint with pudding night as a sensory play thing, it was a hoot.” She chuckles.

“Those are great, aren’t they? Very stimulating, and it teaches the child that sometimes messes are okay.” He looks down at Lilly and smiles. “May I sit with her in the rocking chair?”

“Please!” She gestures to it, and she sits down on the loveseat in the room. Harry sits down with Lilly, cradling her carefully. He adjusts her so she’s able to stand on his lap. She bounces herself and giggles. “Look at that!” Jane exclaims. “I love it when she does that.”

“She’s awfully sweet.” Harry smiles, and then he looks at Jane. “How much do you feed her?”

“I give her roughly twenty-four to thirty-two ounces a day. You’ll know how hungry she is or isn’t in the moment. I’ve started giving her pureed butternut squash, mashed bananas and strawberries, she’s got that puffed baby cereal as well. I’ve also started giving her ground chicken in really small doses just to get her some protein, but right now I’ve mostly been sticking to fruits and veggies. You must know a lot about what foods to give a baby?”

“I do.” He nods. “You’re still producing that much milk to give her daily?”

“I’ve almost been wishing I’d dry up. I get so sore somedays.” Jane sighs. “But I figure it’s good for her to have it while I can still make it. I’m not opposed to formular or anything…but I like bonding with her in that way. I got rid of her baby acne by rubbing my nipple on her skin, it was like magic.”

“It’s certainly a trick of the trade.” He smirks at her. “I remember learning that in one of my courses, and I was amazed. You all are super humans.”

Jane watches Harry play on the ground with Lilly for a bit. Harry was already so wonderful with her. Harry starts to smell something, and so does Jane.

“Think it’s time for a diaper change.” He chuckles and picks her up. “Would you like me to change her?”

“Yeah, I’d like to see you do it.”

He brings Lilly over to the changing table, and lays her down.

“I know you’re all warm and cozy, but I need to disrupt that for a moment.” He says to the baby girl who was babbling and blowing little spit bubbles, totally unbothered. Harry unsnaps her onesie, and lifts her legs to detach the diaper. His eyes widen at the type of diaper that’s on her. “You cloth diaper?” He looks at Jane.

“It’s better for the environment.” She shrugs. “There’s a trashcan for the…um, poop, and there’s another can for the diapers. I give her a regular diaper for bedtime just because it’s easier to change her in the middle of the night and in the morning, but daytime I use the cloth diapers.”

“Makes sense to me.” Harry disposes of everything, and grabs a few wipes to clean Lilly up. She took a powerful stinky.

“I blame it on the pureed peas.” Jane laughs.

“It doesn’t even phase me anymore, honestly.” Harry says as he gets a little baby powder on her. He grabs a spare cloth diaper, and gets it on her. He snaps her onesie back together and lifts her up. “There we go, good as new, darling girl.” Lilly blows some bubbles at Harry, and blows some back, making her giggle. Jane beams at the two of them.

“It’s about time for her afternoon nap. Would you like to put her down?”

“I’d love to.”

Harry carries Lilly upstairs with Jane. She flips on Lilly’s white noise machine, and makes sure her favorite blankies are in the crib. Harry sits down in the large chair in the corner of the room and starts to rock her gently, giving her soothing rubs. Jane watches as Lilly’s eyelids start to droop. She fights it at first, but Harry continues to soothe her until she’s out like a light. He carefully stands up and sets her down into her crib. The two back out of the room quietly, and make their way down the stairs.

“Let’s go back to my office.” Jane says, and Harry follows her there. Once they’re both seated, she starts speaking again. “Well, the job is yours if you want it.”

“Really?” Harry felt every worry from his life leave his body.

“Yes.” She chuckles. “You’ve really impressed me, and I think Lilly’s quite taken with you already. I’d love to have you as her nanny.” She takes out a few forms. “May I have your references? The background check will take about a week. How soon could you start after that?”

“Right away, honestly.” He hands her a sheet with his references.

“Here are the tax forms you’ll need to fill out, a form for direct deposit, and some information on your benefits. You can get everything back to me by the end of next week.”

“I can’t thank you enough for this opportunity, I’m so excited. I can’t wait to get started, Miss Watson.” He stands to shake her hand, and she stands as she takes it.

“Please, you can call me Jane.”

#love's divine #love's divine part one #call me jane #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles au #harry styles series #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x oc #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #nanny!Harry #nanny!H #nannerry

400 notes · View notes

princessjungeun · 3 years

Text

Hey Beautiful: Jennie x Reader

Request: Hii :) i have a request for jennie x femreader, where the reader is a famous idol and Jennie has a crush on her. They attend the same award show and at the end when they are backstage the reader asks Jennie for her number. Then they go on a date or something just cute stuff (fluff i guess😅)

A/N: I’ll write a continuation of this if you’d like for the date part :D

Awards show season was in full swing and you were to attend the MAMAs tonight. It was your first time attending without a date, usually your best friend tagged along but she was working the night shift at her job so she couldn’t make it.

You were already in your dress and your glam team was getting your hair and makeup done before you were to leave. This had been going on for hours and you were simply exhausted and hungry, the only thing keeping you going was knowing that you’d be seeing some friends of yours later in the evening.

It took two hours but eventually your hair and makeup were finished and you were cleared to leave. Your manager sat across from you in the car, a smile on his face as she teasingly asked, “so anyone you’re excited to meet in particular?”

You knew exactly what he meant, there was one person that had showed an interest in meeting you for months, Kim Jennie. To be honest when she said she was your fan in an interview, you were a little surprised. Despite being one of the most popular female soloists at the time, you were still shocked when you heard artists you looked up to liked you.

Jennie in particular had mentioned on many occasions that you were her ideal type and she’d date you if she had the chance. Blinks and your fans shipped the two of you heavily as well. Most of the time you hated when you were shipped with people you never met because it made for uncomfortable times when you actually did happen to meet them. It’d happened in the past when people shipped you with a popular member of a boy group, he was to produce a song with you. However with all of the shipping flying around, you didn’t want to risk you or him getting involved in a scandal that would just add fuel to the fire. But with Jennie you entertained it, saying you’d date her too and she was your ideal type as well. Fans had been praying for an interaction for the longest and you knew you two were probably going to cross paths tonight.

Once you’d walked the red carpet and avoided falling on your face, you were escorted inside to find your seat. The idols on the plus couch across from you were TWICE, the girls greeted you warmly, especially Nayeon who happened to be a close friend of yours.

She scooted closer to you, and started catching you up on everything that had happened in the past month because you two hadn’t talked in a bit. You were both performing tonight, she wasn’t nervous whereas you were for the first time.

Before Nayeon got up she nudged you gently, using her head to point you towards a familiar idol. You squinted, having forgotten your contacts at home, you realized it was Jennie, sitting with her members and talking to them. Nayeon stated, “I’m gonna call her over.”

You panicked, “No no, not yet. Don’t call her over- Nayeon I sweat to god-” YOur friend only laughed, waving the girl down and mouthing to her from afar. You froze, trying to look everywhere but at Jennie, this was not how you wanted to meet her for the first time. Giving up, you hid your face in Nayeon’s shoulder, your face beet red as you laughed, the rest of Twice laughing and teasing you playfully.

Nayeon patted your head, “she’s gone.”

You peeked from her shoulder to make sure she was serious and not playing a prank, and she was. Jennie was now talking to Irene, facing the other direction and not paying you any mind.

Nayeon told you, “you’re gonna need to work on that. She also said you’re cute...you missed it while you were hiding.”

You smacked her shoulder and said, “I wouldn’t have had to hide if you just left her alone in the first place Nay. That was so embarrassing please never put me through that traumatizing experience again.” She sighed and said “okay fine, but you should talk to her before the night ends. She really does like you.”

Nayeon scooted back towards her members and you focused straight ahead for the stage. As performances went on and awards were given out, you felt your heart race knowing that your big performance was coming up.

A staff came and got you from your seat to escort you backstage during a break. Your manager was already in your dressing room with your stylist, both of them getting everything you need for your performance. Your dancers were warming up as well in a corner.

You changed and start to warm up your vocals as well as your body, it was a new song and a new choreography which you’d never performed in front of such a large audience. The dance break was what you were most worried about because you hadn’t had a lot to time to practice in your shoes so you were afraid of messing up and hurting yourself.

Your manager noticed the look on your face, “Hey don’t be nervous. Everyone in that crowd is your fan. You could go out there and just breathe into the mic and everyone would still lose their shit. So go out there and do your thing, I’ll be watching from in here. You’ll do great, stop worrying babe.” He always knew the right thing to say, he was like your best friend and soulmate all at the same time.

You hugged him, “Thank you, I’ll meet you back in here when I’m done.”

The dancers pulled you into a huddle, putting your hands together you all yelled, “1-2-lets get it.” You all broke and made your way towards the stage where a staff last minute checked your IEMs and mic to make sure they were working.

You took a deep breath before making your way to the stage, the lights dimmed before the song started. Looking at your dancer they gave you a subtle nod, and smile giving you the last bit of confidence that you needed.

During your performance all of your nerves melted away. You hit every note and move perfectly, gaining a huge reaction for the audience. The deafening sound of fans and other idols cheering you on only made your confidence rise, and it showed throughout your performance. When you were done almost everyone was standing up, even the idols as they cheered for you.

After you were off of the stage you pulled your IEMs and mic pack off, handing them to your manager so you could go and change once more. Your second outfit was different, more elegant yet subtle. You changed your shoes to a pair of sneakers, relived that you could finally get out of heels.

As your stylist touched up your makeup and hair you remembered that Blackpink was preforming in a bit. You wondered if you’d see Jennie back here, Nayeon did mention that she would probably be here when you got off the stage.

Your questions were answered on the way back out to the audience because you ran into Jennie. The woman was passing you, looking down at her phone as she was walking.

She looked up from the device to bow as she walked by, “Oh! Y/N hey!” she beamed as she tucked her phone in her back pocket. Although she knew she had to be somewhere she didn’t care, she wasn’t going to miss her opportunity

You looked her over and tried to not let your eyes linger on her very toned abs for a second too long. She told you sweetly, “you did amazing earlier, you looked stunning.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks the longer she looked into your eyes, you stuttered out, “t-thanks...you’re going to kill it out there, more than me definitely.”

Just as she was about to respond Jisoo called down the hall for her, waving her over with a clearly impatient manager.

Jennie quickly turned to you and asked, “hey, I know this is the first time we met but can I have your number? Maybe we could go out sometime?” Her hand rested comfortably on your arm, a subtle touch that still made your heart burst inside.

You nodded, “yeah, sure. I’d really like that.” Quickly she whipped out her phone and you put in your number, saving your name with a red heart emoji.

Jennie smiled, “I’ll text you later.”

You told her with a shy smile, “okay, good luck out there.”

Jennie kissed your cheek, “thanks beautiful, i’ll see you out there.” She walked past you and to her members and managers who were waiting for her.

You touched your cheek and smiled before following a staff member that was to take you back to your seat. When you got back Nayeon took one look at you before bursting out laughing. You frowned, “what?”

Your friend replied, “run into Jennie did you?”

You asked, shocked at how she already knew, “wha- how did you know?”

Nayeon swiped her thumb over your cheek a few times before pulling away, showing you the faint lipstick stained on her skin, “She isn’t exactly the most subtle.”

You poked Nayeon’s neck with a smirk, “Well turns out you and Jeongyeon aren’t either, Nay.” Her face flushed red as she pulled the collar of her top up and brushed her hair around her neck, you let out a laugh earning a slap on the arm from her. The two of you went back and forth playfully until the lights dimmed indicating Blackpink coming on to perform.

You watched intently as the girls performed Lovesick Girls, Jennie staring at you as she sang that last part, winking in your direction as she made the heart gesture with her hands. You couldn’t help but smile back at her, trying to hold back how flustered the simple gesture.

At the end of the night you were finally home and able to check your phone and as promised, Jennie did reach out to you. The message read:

Unknown Number: Hey beautiful, I’m sorry I couldn’t see you more tonight. But I can make it up to you by taking you to that new art exhibition downtown. Are you free next Saturday?

You typed back quickly, not caring if it made you look desperate or like you were watching your phone: Don’t apologize, nights like these are hectic and unpredictable. I am free and I’m more than happy to go, thank you <3

You quickly updated her contact to Jennie and broke into a happy dance when she told you what time she’d come pick you up. You’d been dying to check out the art exhibition since you found out it was coming to town but tickets sold out before you could get the chance. So not only were you going on a date with your crush, but also to check out what you’d been dying to see for weeks.

You flopped onto your bed and sighed, relieved that the day was finally over and that you were able to end it on a positive note.

#kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #blackpink imagines #blackpink scenarios #blackpink jennie

143 notes · View notes

pascalpanic · 3 years

Text

Caffeine Rush: Chapter One / Americano

Javier Peña x f!Reader

Summary: Working a dull December morning shift, you meet a seemingly disgraced DEA agent by the name of Javier Peña.

Warnings: Language, talk of death and canon-typical Narcos violence

W/C: 2.3k

A/N: YOU GUYS i am so excited to share this story with you all!! i fuckin love Javi and coffee so this features my two favorite things! big thanks as always to my beta readers for helping me out- especially with chapter 2 (which i was stuck on for 3 weeks lol). I hope you guys enjoy! this story has some twists I don’t think y’all are gonna see coming ;) I’m planning to update this fic once a week! I just wanted to get chapter one out there :)

previous chapter || next chapter || masterlist

Americano: espresso and hot water; has a similar taste to a brewed coffee, but still darker and more caffeinated thanks to the espresso.

Work is blissfully slow on weekdays, allowing you to putz along at your own speed. Today, however, is boring as hell. You’d had approximately seven customers since the morning rush, meaning about seven drinks to make. There weren’t even tables to clean, no customers having sat in the cozy coffeeshop. You and your coworker had joked around, swept and mopped, and cleaned the espresso machines twice each.

At this point, with nothing else to do, you sipped your third peppermint mocha while perched atop two stacked milk crates, leafing through your worn copy of The Great Gatsby. It was a common occurrence when evening rolled around, but rarely so early in the day. Since you were the one on barista duty, Mandy kept watch for customers and allowed you to relax with your book. It was routine for the two of you. She mindlessly fusses with the product wall and the coffee grinder, cleaning everything for the third time.

The door opens and you pop up from your makeshift chair excitedly. The weather is blustery and cold, with heavy snowflakes starting to fall outside the large windows, and the man who enters is pulling his jacket tight around himself. He looks up and you quickly dodge behind the espresso machines before you can make eye contact. It’s instinctual, and you’re unsure why until your brain reminds you of the man’s face. He’s handsome, even though you got maybe a second’s look at him. Dark brown hair and a neatly trimmed mustache, eyes an even darker shade to complement his tanned skin.

You bite your lip and grab a large ceramic mug, bringing it to the espresso machine. No one would be crazy enough to order a cold drink in this weather. Mandy takes his order and a few seconds later, his receipt pops up through the printer at your end of the shop:

Ticket 114 - 12/3/93

Name: Javier

LG-Redeye

!memo: darkroast

Javier. The name suits the man, you think to yourself and smile as you begin prepping the espresso for his drink. As you walk to Mandy’s station to fill the mug with drip coffee, she smiles and nudges your side. “Isn’t he cute?” She murmurs. You look at the printed ticket then at the coffee warmers: there’s no dark roast.

“Very,” you giggle a little and fill the mug with light instead. He’s seated in the corner. “I call dibs,” you tease, and Mandy shakes his head. She’s married, but she knows your type, and it’s exactly the man sitting there, staring at a newspaper.

“Yeah, okay,” she shakes her head but smiles at you. “No wedding ring either. I think you should bring his drink to him instead of calling out the order.”

Staring down at the filling mug, you shake your head. “We’ll see,” you chuckle softly and return down to your end of the bar, pouring the two shots of espresso. “Javier?” You call in your barista voice, and the man lifts his head and walks to the bar.

“That’s me,” he says, a small begrudging smile on his face.

“Hi,” you chuckle and hold up the mug. “We’re out of dark roast right now, so I had to use light. Could I put some flavoring or cream or sugar in there for you?” You offer. “Otherwise, I can most definitely make you something else. An americano maybe?”

He pauses for a second. “Yeah, an americano would be great,” he nods. “What kind of flavors… are there?” he asks.

“Oh, we have a ton,” you say enthusiastically, grabbing the syrup rack and pulling it your way. “Any of these. Hazelnut, vanilla, raspberry,” you smile, rattling off the flavors, “otherwise we also have caramel and any flavor of chocolate.”

Javier raises an eyebrow as he looks at the small display. “Never been somewhere with so many options. Could I do dark chocolate and cream?” He asks, and you nod.

“Of course,” you tell him, dumping the previous mug and grabbing another. “I’ll have that right up for you. You can head back to where you were sitting,” you inform him.

He shakes his head. “I can wait here. Save us both a trip.”

You nod. “Sure,” you say with a smile, prepping more espresso. “The redeye and americano are pretty different in caffeine though, the americano is going to have more since there’s more espresso.”

“I just need as much caffeine as I can get. Tough day ahead,” he nods.

“I’ve been told bartenders and baristas are wonderful ears to listen,” you offer, a sweet smile on your face.

His guard has fallen like a wrecking ball through a house of cards at the way you smile. “Well, I’m with the DEA.” It feels strange, openly admitting that around here. Colombians weren’t exactly welcoming to American agents, but it felt like citizens around here saw them as some kind of superhero.

Your eyes light. “Shouldn’t it be a fantastic day for you then?” you ask. “I mean, it’s all over the news. Escobar. Do you know the guys in the photo?” You ask with excitement in your voice.

He nods. Escobar was killed yesterday, and it’s all over the news, including the paper back at his table. “Yeah. The blonde guy in the red shirt is actually my work partner. It’s a tough day because I didn’t get to be there when it happened. I’ve been down in Colombia for years now, and they catch Escobar two days after I leave.”

The smile on your face turns to a frown. “That’s… awful,” you nod, eyes full of sadness for him. “I’m so sorry. At least it must be nice to be home?” you ask, tilting your head slightly and pouring the espresso shots into the mug.

He shakes his head. “D.C. isn’t home. I’m from Texas,” he admits, and the way he speaks finally registers as a slightly slowed speech pattern from the area. “I’m happy for Steve though. The blonde one, my partner. He deserves it. We’ve been down there for… Jesus,” he sighs and looks at the ceiling as he counts the years, “well, a while now. Couple of years. I fucked up, bad. Honestly, I think I’m up here to get fired.”

You frown slightly as you pump the chocolate into the hot espresso and water, swirling it around with a spoon. “You worked on Escobar for years?” you ask, and Javier nods. “Well, then I personally doubt you’d be getting fired. You guys just caught him, everyone must be in a good mood. I guess it depends on how bad you fucked up,” you shrug as you tap the spoon into the sink and bend down to grab the cream.

“I… do you know who Los Pepes are?” he asks. You shake your head as you stand, pouring some cream into the steaming drink. “Well, they’re a radical group who did some crazy shit to try to weaken Escobar, and I got involved with them. I have a meeting today with the review board.”

You finally make eye contact with him, wincing for him. “Yeah, that doesn’t sound great,” you admit with a chuckle, putting the cream back in the little refrigerator beneath you.

“It’s not.”

“It’s not necessarily why you got called up here,” you shrug and grab a saucer, putting the mug on top of it and on the bar for him to take.

“Well, I don’t know, I suppose,” he agrees and takes the drink from you.

You shrug. “Best of luck, Javier,” you tell him with a genuine smile of encouragement.

He nods, looking at your name tag attached to your apron. He murmurs your name before looking back up at your face and into your eyes. “Thank you.” He takes his drink and returns to his table, and you sigh and return to your makeshift chair in the corner.

Mandy pulls up two crates next to you, sitting down across from you with gleaming eyes. “Did it go well? You two talked for a while,” she asks, raising her eyebrows and encouraging you to tell her more.

“A little, but just… how I would with anyone, I guess,” you shrug as you sip your mocha for a moment, drinking the last of the warm coffee. “Not like I got his number or anything.”

“He’s sitting down to drink his coffee. Go offer him a refill when he’s done.”

“That would require me to stare at him, Mandy, and I think he’d notice that,” you shake your head as you stand to make yourself a new drink.

She stands with you, pushing the crates out of the way. “I’ll keep an eye on him for you. I’ll signal to you when he’s done or getting low on coffee, and you can bring him a refill. How does that sound?” she asks you.

You nod with a sigh. “Since you’re apparently not going to let this go, fine. I will.”

Mandy claps her hands together excitedly. “Yay!” She sings. “Oh, will you make me a drink while you’re at it? I’ll have a-”

“Skim hazelnut latte with no foam and light whip,” you recite before she can finish her order.

“You’re a babe,” she sings and heads over to clean the tables that haven’t even been touched since she wiped them an hour ago.

You make her drink and set it aside, then work on your own, fourth coffee. The peppermint and the coffee swirl together deliciously in the air, fitting the weather and the time of year. It’s December, and the snow outside and the warm feeling from the man across the coffee shop contrast in your heart. You sneak glances at him a couple of times, biting your lip to hold back a smile as you admire the handsome face peeking above the newspaper he reads.

About ten minutes later, you look up from cleaning the machines to see Mandy tucked behind a wall where he can’t see her. She’s frantically waving at you, pointing towards Javier once she catches your attention. Go, she mouths excitedly, beaming at you.

You wipe your hands on your apron and walk to where she stands. “Fine, I will, but you’re making the drinks if anyone else comes in.”

“Oh no, how will I handle it?” She asks in a deadpan, eyeing the shop that’s empty except for the two of you and Javier. “Go,” she says, giving you a light shove and giggling.

You shake your head but walk over, placing a hand lightly on the table. “Coffee’s looking low. Could I get you a refill?” you offer.

Javier looks up at you, and you feel like turning to jelly as you look into his big brown eyes, filled with confusion but also admiration. He furrows his brow, creating small creases between his eyebrows. “Uh… sure. How much is it?” he asks, reaching for his wallet and setting down the newspaper.

You put a hand on his arm, giving a gentle smile. “You need it. It’s on the shop,” you tell him.

“No, seriously, what, like $5?” he asks, but you put a hand over his.

“No, Javier,” you chuckle lightly. “Don’t worry about it. Another americano with chocolate and cream?” you ask.

“Uh… make me whatever you like best. And bring one for yourself too.” He says, well, really asks, nodding to the empty chair across from him. “It’s not too busy to talk, is it?”

You swallow hard before you break into a grin. “No, not at all. Uh… do you like peppermint?” you ask.

“Peppermint is good,” he says, giving you a small smile.

“Perfect,” you smile softly at him, picking up his empty mug and saucer. “We have a peppermint mocha, it’s seasonal. It’s my favorite, I’ll be right back with them,” you say, giggling softly and biting your lip as you turn and walk back to the bar.

You’re hidden behind the espresso machines as you finally grin and giggle, and Mandy rushes to your side. “Oh my God,” she laughs happily. “He’s so hot. What were you guys talking about?”

“He asked me to sit with him,” you giggle excitedly, preparing four espresso shots.

She nearly squeals with excitement, grabbing your arm closest to her. You scoop some chocolate chips and pour milk into a pitcher, putting it under the steam wand. “Holy shit. What has he told you so far? What’s his story?”

“Well, he said he’s a DEA agent. He’s on leave from work right now, but the guy in the red shirt in that picture of Escobar after they killed him? That’s his partner,” you tell her, letting the excitement speed your words up. “He’s been in Colombia for a couple of years working on it. Isn’t that cool?” You laugh.

“So cool,” she nods in agreement. “And he’s so fucking cute. Girl, you need to get your ass back there before I steal him myself.”

You laugh as you pour the shots and then the steamed milk into the mugs. “I’m trying, but you holding onto one of my arms is holding me back, love,” you tease her and she breaks away. You top both mugs with a perfectly peaked whipped cream layer, then sprinkle candy cane pieces and chocolate chips on top. “Wish me luck,” you practically sing as you walk back with a mug for each of you.

Javier’s holding back a grin himself as you make the drinks. He can see your head bobbing along behind the bar, the other woman chatting with you. He’s more transfixed than you than he should allow himself to be, but all fears fade as he sees you approaching with a grin and two large, whipped cream-topped drinks.

You set the drink down in front of him and he smiles at you. “Wow. This…” he looks down at it and smiles a little. “Well, it looks sweet.”

“I have a sweet tooth,” you admit with a soft laugh and sit down, taking a sip and sighing softly. “It tastes like winter. I love it.” He nods and takes a sip too. It’s sweet, but not as bad as he expected. “I added extra espresso to yours,” you tell him, a shy smile on your face.

“A woman after my own heart,” he chuckles and sets it down, licking the foam off of his mustache.

You smile a little wider at that and hold back a laugh. “Did you want to talk about the meeting?” you ask him, tilting your head, your expression softening.

Javier’s already falling, and he curses himself as he looks at you. Not a thought except him. He’s already thinking of a sly way to get your number. “No, not really. I just spilled basically my entire life story to you.”

“Then you’ve had a very short and boring life. That was hardly anything. I’ve had customers come in and cry over divorces or lost family members; the whole job situation was mild,” you chuckle and admit, tracing the rim of the mug with your fingertips and staring down at the steaming drink.

“Really? You seem like a therapist and a barista in one,” he teases lightly.

“Well, I did just graduate with a Masters in psychology,” you shrug. “I just graduated with it from Georgetown. That’s why I’m here,” you tell him and look up. “Working here part-time while I decide what I want to do.”

“No shit. I did my undergrad in psych and sociology,” Javier says with a small smile, making your smile grow too. “Texas A&M though. Nothing as prestigious as Georgetown.”

“A&M isn’t anything to sneeze at,” you chuckle as you look over at him. His eyes are deep-set, deeper than they probably normally are. They’re bloodshot and hold bags beneath them. After a breath, you bite your lip and look him in the eye. “You look tired. I don’t know you normally, I understand. Maybe you shouldn’t finish this,” you tell him with a concerned smile, scooting his mug towards you. “Too much caffeine.”

“No, I need it, please,” he says, tugging it back and sipping at it again. “Just… until after this meeting. Then I’ll know what my future holds, then I can rest.”

“What time is it at?”

“5:00.”

There’s a beat of silence. “I don’t have any plans tonight,” you say gently, looking at him with a question in your eyes. “Would you like to get dinner? Talk things out, once you know what your future holds?” You offer, a soft smile and hopeful eyes. “I already know enough about you. This could be practice therapy for me,” you tease softly.

Javier thinks for a second, though he knows what the answer will be. At least pretends to think, surprised that you could hear all he had said about Los Pepes and working in Colombia and that you still offered. “I’d like that,” he nods, his voice soft when he looks at you. “I don’t know the area well. You’ll have to tell me where.”

“Do you have a car up here?” You ask him, and he shakes his head. “I can pick you up,” you offer. “Where are you staying?”

He grabs a napkin and pats his pockets for a pen. You hand him the paint pen tucked on your apron and he quickly thanks you before writing down the address to the hotel. You take the napkin and the pen and grab another napkin. “And this…” you say and write down your phone number, sliding it to him, “is where you’ll call me when you’re ready for me to come get you. Okay?” You ask.

Your voice is so soothing, Javier thinks. More than sleep or reassurance or even a hit of Escobar’s private stash or really anything could be to him right now, it’s a comfort. You must be a miracle, he thinks, some kind of blessing for something he isn’t quite sure of, but he must have done something right in the eyes of the Almighty to be here, right now, talking with you. “You know, I was raised Catholic,” he tells you and leans in a little. “I don’t know that I am anymore. But still… I think you might be an angel in disguise.”

Biting your lip, you giggle and look down. “I don’t know about that,” you chuckle as you look up at him again. “Just… right place, right time, maybe. I’ll see you tonight, okay?” you ask him, placing your hand over his and standing.

Javier nods as he looks up at you. “How should I dress?” he asks and tilts his head. His eyes are so expressive, you notice and smile a bit. They betray exactly what he’s thinking.

“Um… what you’re wearing now would be fine. A button down and jeans would work,” you tell him with a nod, patting his hand and picking up your mug. “I’ll see you then. Good luck,” you tell him with a sweet smile and retreat to the back. Javier can’t say anything in return, just sips his peppermint mocha.

Three minutes later, you return with a muffin. “Eat this. You can’t have all that caffeine and no food.”

“Thanks,” he chuckles and looks down at it. You’re gone when he looks back up, and he breaks off a piece. What a weird day. It’s only about to get weirder.

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic @yooforia @oceanablue @sara-alonso @pedrosmustache @feelingmadclever @hnt-escape @radiowallet @obsessivelysearching @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @linnie0119

#javier peña x reader #javier peña #javi peña #javi peña x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x you #javier peña x you #caffeine rush

231 notes · View notes

cazimagines · 3 years

Text

Born to be wild - Chapter 2

Synopsis: Joining F1 as one of the first female drivers you knew was going to be a challenge but you weren’t prepared to deal with one particular asshole on the tracks. With the urge to win so strong within each racer, will romance pave the way? Or will it destroy everything?

Word count: 2.3k

Author’s note: I'm going to be focusing on this series for a bit and not writing any one-shots for a little while so expect these updates to come out sooner, plus I'd also like to thank my awesome beta reader for helping edit this 😊

Warnings: Swearing

Navigation

Born to be wild masterlist

Previous chapter

The sunset and rose again in what felt like only a few hours for you. The quick passing of time could be attributed to the adrenalin of qualifying, in which you had managed to drive your way to 5th place. Shock rippled through everyone due to this. Not only it is your first F1 qualifying but due to you being a female, you were already exceeding their expectations. It meant everyone was buzzing with curiosity and excitement to see what you might bring to the actual race today.

You were as excited as you were yesterday arriving at the track, but before you could explore the now swarmed with people area, your boss was already waiting for you and with a quick jolt of his head, informed you to get into the garage for debriefing. Arriving you were told, though you were placed 5th the team would still be focusing on Patrick as a priority due to him being the more experienced driver between the two. You’re told about the predicted weather conditions for today, what tires they recommended you to put on the car and mostly which other drivers to watch out for.

After meeting all of the drivers for the proper first time yesterday, already you had quite a good idea of which ones you should watch out for, and as you left the garage to get a quick breath of fresh air, your eyes landed on the one man who made your lips curl down into a sneer. Certainly, a man to watch out for.

Niki Lauda’s team were on the opposite side and he was standing with his arms crossed over his chest, his own frown plastered onto his face. His eyes were fixated on how his team was adding adjustments to his car, and every few seconds he was barking more orders at them for what they should be checking. Displeasure curled up within your chest as you watched how he treated his team with disrespect. He was acting as if he knew more than them when they were doing their job. For a second, as if sensing your eyes upon him, his face snapped over to look at you. Those dark, cocoa eyes felt like he was staring into your soul and due to the uncomfortable feeling that settled within you, making you blush, you quickly looked away.

Sure the man might look charming, even with his overbite. His curled hair complimented his face and the overbite made his cheekbones stick out more in a way that would make you want to run your fingers along them. But for all the niceties of his face, his jackass personality dashed any ideas you might have had about him otherwise. To you, he seemed like an entitled brat and the more time you got to spend away from him, the better.

Unsurprisingly, James Hunt came first in qualifying however a few other drivers came second and third leaving Niki in fourth, right in front of you. This meant in the first few minutes of the race, when everyone was tightly packed together trying to overtake one and other, you would be right beside him. From your first impression of him, you had no doubt if given the chance he wouldn’t hesitate to push you off the track to ensure his space, and the thought of that made you more determined to try and overtake him in this race.

Leaving the garage, you headed into the press tent expecting to be greeted by a few journalists wanting to interview you, but instead, as soon as you took your first step inside you were swarmed with cameras pointing at you. The questions each of them asked you however all followed a similar pattern, they wanted to know everything about what it was like being the first female driver, how you felt racing against all these men, but they also wanted to know how you achieved 5th place in your first time racing for F1 as if you hadn’t been racing for the past few years in F3.

Thankfully Patrick who was finishing up his interview with two journalists spotted your face hidden among the swarm of reporters. He chuckled to himself at your plight before finally deciding to push his way through the crowd to grasp your arm.

“Y/n has answered enough questions, for now, any more you can ask after the race,” he tells them and while they grumbled they slowly moved away to interview a few others. Still holding your arm Patrick pulled you back to your garage into a more private quarter where you wouldn’t be harassed.

“The press can be dicks at times, you’ll learn to get away from them in time,” he mutters to you as he guides you through the busy garage.

“I’m fearful they’ll always be obsessed with me for being the first F1 driver.”

Patrick finally stops pulling you along and tilts his head back and forth in contemplation, “Perhaps for the first year or so, but they’ll move on to something else eventually.”

It was only a few minutes later when you and Patrick were informed it was time to head onto the track to get into your cars. The walk there was nerve-wracking, seeing all these other drivers approaching their cars but you, preparing for the race because it was so normal to them now but you reminded yourself that you were the same as them. You were just as good as them and you had every right to be there, like them and in time you would be as used to it as well.

Your team was there to pass you your helmet, help you into the car and to wish you good luck. Finally sitting down within it, placing your hand upon the steering wheel you felt a sudden surge of power wash over you. This was it. This was your time to prove to everyone who ever doubted you, that they were wrong. At that moment, you had never felt more at home.

“Good luck out on the road today.” a British voice chimes in, and looking to your side you see James Hunt walking past you to his car, giving you a smile and a wave. You nodded your head back to him and gave a slight motion of your hand to tell him thanks.

Niki stormed past you as well, though unlike James made no acknowledgement of your existence. Rather he was paying meticulous attention to what James was doing, making sure his crew fitted his car with the exact same wheels James chose to have. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

The first thing everyone had to do was warm up their tires which involved you driving around the track once in order so that when the actual race started, the tires wouldn’t wear down too quickly. After this, however, it was the waiting that almost killed you. Waiting for that flag to wave to tell you to go.

The beginning of the race was always the most important part. Everyone was cooped together and therefore could easily overtake each other. If you made one mistake that could be it for you, or it could be the making of you. Most crashes in which people died always happened at the start of the race. You had watched so many times on TV how a car hit another and went spiralling into the crash barrier, catching alight. It’s the reason why your parents were so determined for you not to drive, for you might not come back to them alive. But it was a risk you were willing to take to live your dream.

Your hands clutched the steering wheel in anticipation, fingers drumming on the underside of it, a sweat bead rolled down the side of your head as you watched the flag bearer with such strong precision. He held up the flag, and with the ring of a whistle, he started to wave it.

Instantly your foot was on the accelerator, rushing forward in time with everyone else. You maintained your position, preventing anyone from being able to overtake you to take 5th place but now that meant you had to focus on trying to get ahead of the car before you. Niki was only a few inches ahead of you but he kept swerving, preventing you from being able to find a path to get past him. However, you were coming up to your first curve in the track and if Niki went on the underside you might be able to accelerate enough on the outer side of the track to attempt to get past him. It was risky but it was a shot you were willing to take.

As you predicted Niki went to go on the underside, trying to save time to catch up to his next opponent, so you sped up going on the outer ring. It meant you had to go wider but as you accelerated further you were able to come up side to side by Niki.

It was a tight squeeze, both of you heading around the corner at the same time. You could see the glare he shot at you as you came up beside him, a fire within the deepest pits of his eyes and yet as you drew nearer for one horrifying second shared between the both of you in which your eyes flashed with panic, it looked as if your front wheel might bump into him.

Niki, in realising this, quickly slammed on his accelerator as you pulled back using your breaks. He shot forward, back onto the straight road now that you were both past the corner but it left you in his dust, cursing at yourself.

The rest of the race went smoothly, for you at least. You were able to push yourself up to fourth place but Niki has long since overtaken that person as well and was now racing behind James in their little competition to try and get first. Still, the fact that you got fourth place in your first race was a celebration unto itself and so when you crossed the finish line and pulled into your team’s pit all the crew were out there cheering you on.

As soon as you jumped out of the car they were running over to hug you, slap you on the back and congratulate you on getting fourth and you could help but join into the excitement, jumping up and down and cheering along with them. Even when Patrick pulled up he congratulated you, giving you a pat on the back and flashing one of his signature kind smiles, making you feel elated.

There was only one thing that could dampen your mood, one person and of course he would appear. You heard the annoying, callous Austrian voice call out to you and instantly you had to suppress a groan as you turned around to face the man.

“You nearly hit me earlier!”

Niki was charging towards you, his body tensed as he pulled his helmet off, handing it to one of his crew and scowled towards you. His hair was slick and wet with sweat and he still wore his tracksuit showing as soon as he got out of his car he had chosen to find you out, obviously seeking an argument for earlier.

“But I didn’t!”

It almost seemed as if he wouldn’t stop walking towards you for a second. He came to stand so close in front of your face you could smell the sweat reeking off him, “It’s stupid manoeuvres like that kill people!”

“We were fine! I made sure we had lots of space.”

“Two inches!”

“I’m sorry I didn’t realise you were measuring it with a bloody ruler!”

Niki crosses his arms, his lips curled as his nose flared and you’d swear even his breathing suddenly sounded louder. “If I hadn’t taken the quick decision to speed up, potentially damaging my engine we both could have been dead.”

You scoff, amazed he thought he was the one who prevented it, “Of course you would take the credit. If I hadn’t chosen to slow down, letting you pull out again and costing me a place we might have crashed.”

It was Niki’s turn to scoff now as he looked away and then his dark eyes turned to glare at you again. His teeth bared as he prepared to refute you but before he got a chance James had noticed the commotion between the two of you and jogged over.

“Congratulations y/n on getting 4th place! That’s great for your first race,” he then turned on his foot to smile sarcastically at Niki, “Congratulations Niki on almost getting first place.”

“Perhaps if she hadn’t almost run me off course I might have beaten you,” Niki argues, his harsh glare instantly snapping back to you.

“Don’t use her as an excuse for your own idiotic driving. If she had run you off course she would have done the rest of us a world of favour.”

Niki rested his hands upon his hips again and ran his tongue over his lips before spitting out at James, “Fuck you.”

He starts to storm away as James shouted back to him, “No thanks!”

A chuckle came from James’ throat as he turned around to look back at you. “I need to head off to the podium in a few minutes to accept my trophy, but I wanted to come by and invite you to my winning party. Everyone will be there, well apart from Niki of course.”

“No Niki? Sounds like my kind of party then,” you reply, shaking his hand in congrats to him. As soon as he had arrived he left and you turned to look at Niki’s fading figure one last time before heading back to your garage. The less your saw of that asshole the better.

Tags: @lieutenantn @greeneyeblondie44 @lorna-d-m @cable-kenobi @zemosimp05 @edencherries @hofficoffi @somethingthatsaysbubbles @apparrio @vverliebt @shadowycollectiveduck @alindeluce @scuttle-buttle @handmaiden-of-mischief @rumblelibrary @nyx2021 @fictionlandslanddreams @darksxder @liaDameronDjarin @daniel-bruhhl @aedeluca @trashbin2 @livvyshmiv @fantasmaghoeria @laura-naruto-fan1998 @black-mistress-of-evil @danielbruhlswife @stilltoomuchafangirl

Link to join tags here!

#niki x reader #niki lauda rush #niki lauda x you #niki lauda fic #niki lauda x reader #niki lauda fanfiction #niki lauda #rush #daniel bruehl #daniel bruhl #daniel brühl

108 notes · View notes

zintranslations · 3 years

Text

Kaleidoscope of Death, Ch. 108

Kaleidoscope of Death by Xi Zixu Link to Chinese / Novel Updates

Chapter 108: False Answers

Generously sharing hints inside the door wasn't much of a good thing at all, at least for the owners of the hints.

Because once you’d shared your hint, you’d exposed your own strength. The more difficult the door, the more true this was.

The more toward the end you were, the more difficult it was to get hints at all. So going public with a hint might make you a target, someone everybody was on their guard against. You might even be subject to sabotage.

Plus, without peculiar circumstances, nobody would want to share their hard-won hints anyways.

But the door before them obviously had to be an exception, because if they didn't tell the others the rules of the game, then those who died and became Hakobito would increase the difficulty of their escape.

"Are we going to tell them?" Lin Qiushi asked. "What happens if we just announce it like this?"

"We have to tell them no matter what." Though he'd heard the scream, Ruan Nanzhu wasn't distressed at all. "But there's no rush. They're all shrewd old things, even if I tell them everything they might not believe me."

As the three spoke, they returned to the foyer they were in before, and saw that someone had opened a chest in the corner. Inside the chest was something like a stethoscope. Someone had taken it out, and was examining it closely. That was an item available for use inside the Hako Onna game, Lin Qiushi recalled. He didn't think someone would be lucky enough to open up an item immediately.

"Who screamed just now?" Liang Miye eyed the stethoscope, then looked elsewhere.

"It was me…" a girl said meekly. "I was just getting ready to go check out the kitchen with them, but then I saw something in the crack of the door. I think it was a- a little girl wearing a dress. I couldn't stop myself, and screamed."

This girl was obviously a newbie, nervous-looking and by all appearances inexperienced.

After hearing her explanation, a few of the veterans had on peculiar expressions. They wanted nothing more than to stay as far away as possible from those things—only newbies got so foolishly close and offered up their heads like that.

Lin Qiushi took the opportunity to look around, quickly counting up the proportion of newbies to veterans.

Of the twenty-three, at least four in that group of seven were newbies; dazed bewilderment was still visible on their faces.

Minus these seven, there were likely also some newbies in the remaining sixteen. Which was to say, more than one group had brought newbies into this door. So the newbie count was between eleven and twelve, about half-and-half with the vets.

Actually, upon closer thought, it was easy to understand how people could risk other people's lives like this.

There was a limited number of death conditions. To test and identify one meant being able to avoid it. Testing these conditions with other people's lives was the easiest method.

"Can you not just open random chests?" Among the old hands, there were already some who couldn't watch these newbies mess around anymore. "Look—these chests are everywhere, so they must have some sort of special function. If you keep randomly opening them, shit's definitely going to go wrong!"

"What can go wrong!" The one who'd obtained the stethoscope was a young man, bravely swaggering about with a poor attitude. "I'm perfectly fine, aren't I?"

"You might be fine now, but who knows about later." The one with all the suspicions seemed to be called Sun Yuanzhou. The twist of his head was cold as he spoke to the leader of this newbie pack: "You brought them in. Get a grip on them, will you?"

The one who'd brought the bunch of newbies in this time was a middle-aged man named Wei Xiude. His face was unremarkable, and by appearance alone, seemed friendly and congenial. But evidently, to have brought in so many newbies, he wasn't at all a good person.

"Alright, alright." Wei Xiude at least knew to speak well. "I'll take care of them. Xiao Ji, don't open anymore chests. It won't be good if something happens. It's dangerous inside the door after all."

"Like anything will happen," the young man called Xiao Ji spoke impatiently. "You're too wimpy. No risk no rewards…"

As he spoke, he lifted his hand to open another chest.

"Wait—" Lin Qiushi spoke up to stop him.

But Xiao Ji naturally wouldn't listen to Lin Qiushi. In a single breath, he opened up two more chests. Fortunately, his luck was good: one chest had a slip of paper in it, and the other was empty.

"What's this?" Xiao Ji picked up the paper, and read it out loud. "False Answers…" There seemed to be only those two words on the paper, and no other information. He muttered, "the hell is this?"

He tossed the paper aside onto a table.

"Don't open any more." Seeing that Xiao Ji wasn't planning to quit opening chests, Ruan Nanzhu finally spoke up. "If I'm not wrong, this should be a tabletop game I've played before, called Hako Onna. If you keep opening up chests like this, something nasty really will pop out."

At this, Xiao Ji's hands finally stopped. He said, "What? Why didn't you say so earlier!"

Ruan Nanzhu shrugged. "You moved too quickly. As if I had time to."

Because of Ruan Nanzhu's words, all eyes in the house were now on him. Some looked energized, some doubting, some suspicious.

"You mean we're playing a game right now? Have you played it before?" Sun Yuanzhou got the point quickly.

"A few times." Ruan Nanzhu sat down on the sofa and leaned back. "I couldn't be sure when I first came in, so I went upstairs to find some key items. I'm sure now that it's that game."

Everybody gathered around, waiting for his next words.

Ruan Nanzhu very simply explained the rules. In the heavy chests was a ghoul, and opening them up at random could very well release it. Humans caught by the ghoul became Hakobito—box people—who continue on to sabotage the survivors.

Regarding the rules, Ruan Nanzhu hid nothing. He gave detailed descriptions from beginning to end, and answered many people's questions. But it was as he predicted—though he kept up an earnest attitude, the veterans didn't simply believe everything he told them.

"According to what you said, we can just not open chests??" someone spoke up in the group, questioning Ruan Nanzhu. "That's what you mean? That if we don't open any chests, nothing will happen? You said the safe has a four-digit passcode. Though there are ten thousand combinations, as long as we spend some time testing it we'll get it right eventually!"

Ruan Nanzhu turned a palm to the sky. "I'm only telling you the rules from the game I've played, not what the rules are here. There must have been changes, but I don't know what those changes are either."

"Let's count up how many chests are in this house total," a young woman said. Though she didn't look very old, she was seasoned. "I'm Yin Xinyi, pleasure working with you." She extended a hand to Ruan Nanzhu.

Ruan Nanzhu shook it. "I'm Zhu Meng."

"On the first day, the Hako Onna will cry once," Ruan Nanzhu said. "Where her cry comes from is where she's located. After that, she'll only cry when she wants to obtain a power…"

"Power?" Yin Xinyi asked.

"Yes. He's opened one up already." Ruan Nanzhu pointed at Xiao Ji. "False Answers."

Muttering broke out among the crowd, many asking what exactly this meant.

"In the tabletop, it's one of Hako Onna's powers," Ruan Nanzhu said. "It means the player who plays Hako Onna can lie."

Yin Xinyi, "lie? She can answer our questions?"

Ruan Nanzhu, "in reality, yes. As for here, I don't know what sort of derivative effect the power will have."

"We'll rest for today." Sun Yuanzhou's personality leaned toward dominant, taking up leadership among the group. "It's already after ten, and things are more likely to happen at night. Let's discuss this in more detail tomorrow."

"Okay," most agreed with Sun Yuanzhou's suggestion.

Then everybody began splitting into rooms.

There were three floors in the mansion. Floor one held the functional rooms, like the kitchen. Floors two and three were mostly bedrooms, with studies and bathrooms among them. There was also a large balcony, though it was sealed up by cement.

There were no rules about how many people could stay together, but most went for two to three per room—Lin Qiushi's group as well.

As the night got deeper, the mansion went hazy in the darkness.

Steel boards hammered over the windows blocked out most of the sun. Then, thick drapes like curtains at a show's finale sectioned away the remaining light. The lights in the hallway were a dim red, making the whole area seem like a darkroom or something. It was quite discomfiting.

The room Lin Qiushi and company were staying in was also filled with chests.

They had done a rough count. In the entire mansion, there were at least two hundred wooden chests, each about half a meter tall, neatly placed in every single corner of the house; they had a collective presence that was difficult to ignore.

It was in a chest like this that a girl, with her body all twisted up, could be hidden. At the thought, nobody wanted to take a second glance.

After washing up, the three got in bed. Ruan Nanzhu took the bed by the wall and could see the mass of chests with a mere turn of his head.

Before they slept, the three discussed some things.

"What happens if I don't open any chests?" Liang Miye said. "If nobody opens them, then nobody dies?"

"As if," Ruan Nanzhu said. "There'll definitely be a catch for us in here." They just didn't know what that catch was at the moment.

The doors would never allow them to unconditionally waste time inside, unless…there was only one person left inside this door.

"What kind of catch?" Liang Miye said. "But forcing our moves is good actually, or we're all left hoping others will gamble on their own lives."

Every time you opened a chest was a wager; who knew what would come out?

Ruan Nanzhu made a sound of agreement.

Lin Qiushi's attention was also on the chests, though he was thinking about that stethoscope the guy took during the day. The stethoscope was a game item, but could only be used once a day. It could determine whether or not the Hako Onna was in a chest, because if she was, the stethoscope would pick up soft sounds.

It was a very important item, but it was now in somebody else's hands.

Ah, this really was a game of luck, Lin Qiushi thought. As someone who'd never even won a simple five-yuan lottery, his luck truly wasn't all that impressive.

Plus, with their lives as the gambling chips, they could hardly afford it.

Late in the evening, Lin Qiushi still couldn't sleep well. Around three in the morning, a horrible scream came from downstairs, waking everybody from their dreams.

Lin Qiushi came awake in an instant, opening his eyes and meeting Ruan Nanzhu's gaze.

"Something happened?" Lin Qiushi asked.

"Mh," Ruan Nanzhu said. "Let's go see. Downstairs."

Liang Miye had woken up as well, and said, "that was the second floor, right? Don't tell me somebody got bored enough of living and decided to open a chest?" Ruan Nanzhu had explained it thoroughly enough during the day. If, after all that, someone still wanted to risk their life to open a chest, then Liang Miye really had nothing more to say.

But the annoying thing about newbies was their unpredictability. Under the oppressive weight of terror, no one knew what stupid move they would make next.

The crying and wailing didn't stop. When they got to the second floor, they could still hear the sounds coming through the door.

"Aaaah, it hurts, help me, help me!! Aaah—" The screams were chilling. Several people were currently stood outside that doorway. A sweeping look told Lin Qiushi that these were all veterans, including Sun Yuanzhou. He pushed at the door, then said, "it's locked. I'll go grab something."

"No need, I got it." Ruan Nanzhu slowly approached the door, bent down, and got to unlocking it.

Everybody's eyes were fixed on him. Moments later, the lock clicked open, and the room inside was revealed to them.

The room was already empty. The cries were coming from inside a wooden chest. Not only were there cries emanating from the chest, but also a dull banging, as if the person inside wanted to beat their way out.

"Save me, please save me, I don't want to die…" The closer they got, the more nerve-wracking the sound became.

"Who was staying in this room?" Ruan Nanzhu asked. As he spoke, his eyes drifted toward the chest beside this one. "They opened a chest."

"Fucker." Sun Yuanzhou seemed pissed off, angrily spinning around and going to the room next door. He banged on it until he'd woken up the people inside. "Wei Xiude, get your ass out here now! Were the people in this room with you?!"

Moments later, the room door opened and Wei Xiude walked out. He said, "what are you talking about, 'with me'?"

"In that room!" Sun Yuanzhou jabbed a finger at the room where the incident occurred.

Looking at that room, Wei Xiude's brow lightly puckered. "Yes, there are two of them in there." He seemed to comprehend something. "Something happened to them?"

Sun Yuanzhou spat a curse.

Wei Xiude saw everybody's eyes on him, none very friendly, and he laughed somewhat awkwardly.

"My apologies, I'll give them all a stern reminder for sure. But they haven't been in many doors and some of them don't know the rules…"

Sun Yuanzhou, icily, "mind your own people, or don't blame me for coming after you."

Then he walked off, seeming thoroughly disgusted with Wei Xiude.

Which was fair. A normal tenth door was difficult enough, but the newbies Wei Xiude brought in managed to ruck up the gameplay level to difficult-as-hell.

Nobody was in a good mood at this moment. The looks they shot Wei Xiude were also filled with distaste. Behavior like Wei Xiude's had always been contemptible. Inside the door however, every one could really only sweep the snow from their own front porches; they had no wherewithal to mind anybody else. But if Wei Xiude'd actions proved detrimental to everybody's interests, then that was another matter altogether.

The chest was still wailing at a head-splitting volume.

Lin Qiushi found some items that were left behind around the chest. Judging by the quantity, it hadn't just been one person dragged into the chest by the Hako Onna.

People dying meant an increase in the number of Hakobito; the risk of opening a chest had once again increased.

Lin Qiushi let out a breath, thinking things really were getting tricky.

It was the dead of night at this point. Most likely, nobody got any sleep since that chest wailed on for the entire evening. It was only by morning of the next day that the noise gradually weakened, then finally disappeared.

Lin Qiushi still couldn't understand—Ruan Nanzhu had clearly told them not to open chests for no reason. Why would people still break the taboo? Did they really just believe they would be lucky enough?

After a sleepless night, nobody looked very well. The experienced veterans were mostly fine—it was those who'd been hoodwinked in who looked on the verge of collapse. One girl just curled up in a corner sobbing.

Breakfast appeared by itself in the dining room. It wasn't too bad. Though Lin Qiushi didn't have much of an appetite, he still forced himself to eat some.

It was Ruan Nanzhu whose attention kept wandering. He seemed to be thinking something over. Halfway through eating, he said he wanted to go to the bathroom, and Lin Qiushi said, "I'll go with you."

"Sure," Ruan Nanzhu chuckled. "I'm actually a bit nervous."

Bathrooms in the mansion were all stalls with no distinction for gender. Lin Qiushi stood outside to wait, but after a while, he heard a strange noise coming from inside the bathroom.

Lin Qiushi leaned in closer, and upon realizing what the noise was, his expression changed. The noise…was coming from Ruan Nanzhu.

Ruan Nanzhu seemed to be quietly keening, and in that keen were weak cries for help.

Lin Qiushi rushed inside the bathroom, calling out, "Zhu Meng, Zhu Meng, are you alright?!"

He wanted to open the stall door, but found that it was locked. He fished out his tools in a hurry, and popped the lock on the stall in a couple of swift motions.

Once the door was open, he could see inside. There was nobody there. Beside the toilet, there was a black wooden chest. There was no lock on it—it could be opened with a simple lift.

But Ruan Nanzhu's voice was coming from inside the chest.

Lin Qiushi's face darkened. Many thoughts turned over in his mind as he hurried over to the chest.

"Zhu Meng! Zhu Meng! Is that you in there?"

He knew that Ruan Nanzhu wasn't someone who would just open a chest, but the world of the doors was full of peculiar circumstances. He feared that Ruan Nanzhu had encountered some sudden situation and was dragged into the chest by the Hako Onna.

"Zhu Meng!" Lin Qiushi began hitting the chest calling, "are you inside? Say something—"

"Help me…Please help me…" Ruan Nanzhu's voice was getting weaker and weaker, as if it was going to fade away at any moment. "Please help me…"

It had only been a few minutes, but there was already a sheen of cold sweat on Lin Qiushi's forehead. He stared at the lid of that chest and swallowed, hard, before asking in a raspy voice, "what's my name? Tell me, what's my name outside the door—"

"Linlin, save me…" was how Ruan Nanzhu responded to Lin Qiushi's question.

Upon hearing Ruan Nanzhu's answer, Lin Qiushi released a violent breath. He pressed his hear to that chest and listened as that thing inside keep calling his name in Ruan Nanzhu's voice.

"Linlin, Linlin, save me…Linlin, it hurts…Linlin…"

After staring at that chest for a while, Lin Qiushi turned and left the stall. Then he began going stall to stall, knocking down the row.

Very soon, one of the stall doors opened at his knock. Inside was Ruan Nanzhu with his skirt lifted up, and his expression as he looked at Lin Qiushi was strange.

"Linlin, what are you doing?"

Lin Qiushi looked at his face, and without saying anything, walked in and wrapped him up tightly in a hug.

After a moment's shock, Ruan Nanzhu returned the hug.

"What happened?"

Lin Qiushi, "I've learned what the change is."

Ruan Nanzhu, "hm?"

Lin Qiushi said, "the Hako Onna's power…False Answers." He glanced at a certain stall. "The Hako Onna can imitate people's voices and call for help from inside the chest."

Affection disturbed the mind; the moment something happened to someone you cared for, you were no longer in the state of mind to contemplate the logic of the situation. And once you'd actually opened the chest, there was no longer time for regret.

"What did you hear?" Ruan Nanzhu instantly got an answer from Lin Qiushi's words and expression. "You heard me calling for help inside the chest?"

"Yes," Lin Qiushi said. "Fortunately, you don't like to call me Linlin on the outside."

Ruan Nanzhu said, "I didn't hear anything. It seems the two people from last night were tricked like this."

"Mh," Lin Qiushi said. "They must have a good relationship outside the doors."

Ruan Nanzhu said, "you said just now that the Hako Onna cried inside this room, right?"

Lin Qiushi nodded.

"Then we can confirm her location." Ruan Nanzhu was thinking out loud. "There must be conditions restricting her movement, or we wouldn't be able to open the chests at all.”

If there were no restrictions, then that meant the moment you chose a chest to open, the Hako Onna could move to the chest before you.

"Yes," Lin Qiushi said. "So we can confirm the Hako Onna's in this room…But two people died last night."

That meant there were two additional Hakobito inside the house, and they were in unknown chests.

Ruan Nanzhu said, "let's get them to confirm it with the stethoscope."

Lin Qiushi, "the stethoscope's with the newbie that Wei Xiude brought in."

Ruan Nanzhu nodded. "Mh, I know. Let's go talk to them first, so this item doesn't go to waste."

The stethoscope must have changed as well. As for how, they didn't yet know.

Author's Note:

The strongest players pretty much won't ever bump up against each other, because they typically have their own hints for their own doors. The rest of the spots are divvied up among people without hints, so those people are weaker in comparison. Emmmm personally I think getting your hint out first thing would be catching the Idiot Ball? Everybody's basically your competition, and there's only one super important hint to the next door. Ruan Nanzhu would never go in a door and immediately announce he has a hint and attract everybody's attention like that.

Translator’s Note:

Many thanks to this YouTuber for giving me this split-second screengrab of the English name for “False Answers” ‘cause I couldn’t find it in the rulebook PDF...

Names in this chapter

Sūn Yuánzhōu / Sun(1) Yuan(2) Zhou(1) / 孫元洲

Wèi Xīudé / Wei(4) Xiu(1) De(2) / 魏修德

this bastard's name translates literally to "one who practices ethics" lmao

Xiǎo Jì / Xiao(3) Ji(4) / 小薊

[Ch. 107] | [Ch. 109]

#kaleidoscope of death #xi zixu #cnovel #chinese translation #死亡萬花筒

178 notes · View notes

youarejesting · 4 years

Text

Sly like a... ? Part 5

[Master list] [Sly Master List] Beta: n/a (at the moment) Rating: All Pairing: Hybrid!BTS x FailedHybrid!Reader Genre: Hybrid au, fluff, action, adventure, angst, drama, slice of life. Some marked chapters will contain mature/smut scenes, BUT they will not have plot in those scenes and are 100% skippable without losing your place in the story. Words: 1.3k

Summary: Human’s strive to be better, faster and stronger looking to animal DNA. Thus Hybrids are born. As the rise for designer and Pedigree Hybrids increase, so do the failed attempts. There is one species scientists are unsuccessful in creating, but, folklore says they have been here all along, hiding and blending in with the humans for many millennia. How clever they are.

[First] [Prev] [Next]

Between the passive-aggressive comments from Namjoon and Yoongi, the absolutely adorable moments from Jungkook, and Hoseok, and Seokjin's loud nature you didn't have a moment to yourself. Pair that with trying to make Taehyung feel comfortable and Jimin wanting your attention. You were running ragged.

Well, when you looked around they all were wanting your attention, each hybrid was a little possessive over you as their owner. Even Yoongi who constantly claimed he didn't want to be a part of any government program or any home in general, would occasionally growl or hiss in the corner whenever Jimin or Taehyung got too close.

You thought perhaps he was the most protective of you as he was severely touch starved and secretly loved the idea of being loved and wanted by someone. He spent his days and nights cold and alone on the streets and having somewhere warm and dry with someone who cared for his wellbeing was filling a missing piece in his life. It must scare him seeing the opportunity there but not allowing himself to fully let you into his heart as he held it so close as it was left frail and weak from his previous hurt.

When the groceries arrived the poor delivery man had to deal with seven very protective Hybrids who hovered making sure that you were constantly safe at that moment. Having a stranger in the house was not exactly fun for them.

"Yoongi?" You looked over the table from the game of cards Taehyung, Jungkook and Jimin had roped you into with their big innocent eyes and swishing tails. You saw Yoongi's ear twitch and his body tensing slightly as he opened his eyes lazily to meet you. You grinned at him watching his tail swish once before it stilled.

"What do you need?" He sat up stretching and walking over to the table and looking over your shoulder at your cards and humming.

"I wondered if you wanted to pick something for dinner, there is a folder in the draw I filled with recipes I know how to cook, but if you want something else I can try to make it for you and also there is another folder of fast food menu's if you want something else?" You said turning your head he was very close his head almost on your shoulder but he restrained himself from the final move to touch you intentionally.

Perhaps he was scared of getting too close and eventually being abandoned once more. Yoongi was looking in the draws and frowning, "I can't find any folders"

Placing your cards down with a warning to the boys, you strode into the kitchen you saw him crouched by the draw searching and you smiled searching for the folder and found it.

"These two purple folders," You handed them over making sure your hands brush trying to encourage subtle touches and his tail swished a few times. Knowing the kitchen counter was obstructing the view of you both from the others you took the chance to show him a bit of much-deserved affection, unable to stop yourself you placed your hand on his soft hair and tousled it with a bright smile.

His cheeks went pink as he ducked his head, his tail was swishing back and forth rapidly and he took a deep breath and stood up placing the folders on the counter. He cleared his throat fixing his expression, not wanting to appear too pleased by the reaction.

Thinking it was best not to overwhelm him you returned back to your card game while he chose something for dinner. Upon returning you saw your cards askew from how you left them and some cheeky grins on the other boys’ faces.

"You sneaky rotten boys, what did I say about cheating!" you laughed shocked, and messed up their hair, the two feline hybrids whining and swatting your hands away to fix their hair back into place. Taehyung was overjoyed his tail rapidly swatting back and forth and leaning in wanting more.

You were scratching his scalp gently and he laid his head down on the table happily his eyes closed in content. Yoongi approached with the book hesitating behind you, not wanting to interrupt and you assumed feeling nervous to ask for something as simple as dinner. He was the type who didn't want to be a burden or feel reliant on you, but you turned.

"Did you find something for our dinner Yoongi?" You encouraged and his cheeks flushed, he held out the folder opened on the page and he shuffled not saying a word not wanting to bring himself to say the words.

"I wasn’t really sure, I picked one at random," suspecting he really wanted the dish but didn't want to seem too keen if you said no. You nodded wanting to give him anything he asked for, you were very good at reading Hybrids having grown up with Jimin and others just like him.

You placed your hand on his pulling the book down and pointing at the dish, "What meat would you like in it, and should we do noodles or rice?"

"I like it with Noodles but if we make it with rice, I can make a lot of fun little side dishes which I like too, what do you like?"

"I am not sure?” he mumbled nervously at the thought of being given an ultimatum

“Good idea, I will start now and we can have all of the above, there are so many of us, it would be nice to have lots of everything,” You looked up at him an idea struck, you were supposed to teach these boys to be independent, “do you maybe want to help me make it?”

“Uh I have never made anything, but I can try, or if it’s too much we don’t need to eat?” Taehyung whined at his words and you laughed.

“You don’t have to Yoongi, I thought you might like to learn for fun, so if every I am not home or if I might get sick or something, you will be able to eat good food” Clarifying that you were in no way trying to condition him into becoming your personal chef.

“I can help,” he nodded, you were still unsure if he was agreeing so as to not get in trouble but you would take it hoping to make the experience fun. “Okay, let’s get all the ingredients out it says, and put it on the counter right here”

“Do you need help with anything?” You smiled, placing your hand on his wave to gently nudge him aside to grab the bottle of sesame oil.

“I can’t find the garlic?” Yoongi was ashamed he had failed already.

“Oh, I bought a jar of minced Garlic to save time, so that’s all the ingredients found” Leading him from the walk-in pantry you lead him to the middle of the kitchen and took an apron, it was black and you slipped it over his head and walked around tying it up. “We can’t have your clothes getting dir-”

It was then you noticed how old and tattered his clothes were, the collar was stretched and the back of his jeans was ripped and stained from where he stood on the legs. Taking a small breath.

“Could everyone make a list of things they want or need in their rooms, in the bathroom or clothing and shoe wise? We can all go shopping tomorrow” Walking Yoongi to the sink you washed your hands together and smiled over at him playfully flicking water at him, he gave a tiny smile and wiped his face on his sleeve.

The two of you got cooking, as you taught him Seokjin sat at the breakfast bar on one of the tall stools and watched intently. It was honestly cute to see them all interested in everyday things, things that Hybrids weren’t exactly expected or taught how to do.

Something as simple as feeding themselves. It was sad how many Hybrids were punished with no food or left to starve so it was nice to teach them how to cook for themselves and put some of that power into their hands.

[First] [Prev] [Next]

Tags: @simplymemyself @lolsiiike @min2jeon @notruercolors @luvaffaire @grazysf @ella-mella @lustremyg (please make sure you have tagging setting on so you get notified when the story updates)

How can I save this to receive and read updates?

‘Follow’ and turn on ‘Notifications’ so you never miss an update

Add your name to a ‘Tag’ list [HERE]

‘Reblog’ this post with the hashtag #BTSsly

Or you can ‘Like’ this post (but good luck trying to find it a week later, we both know how many things you like a day, perhaps we will meet again in the future.)

245 notes · View notes

badapricot · 3 years

Text

Lovely Writer: Special 1

This is a rough translation of the first Lovely Writer special. There are 8 in total and other side stories that the author compiled. I’ll try to post 1 a week since they do vary in length, and some are a lot lengthier than this one.

This special is from Nubsib’s POV and it’s about Nubsib remembering his feelings for Gene after seeing him on Facebook, and becoming fixated. Nubsib is 15 at the time and Gene is 20.

At that time, I was in the ninth grade.

Since middle school, my parents had sent me to study abroad with my brother. Because of the wealth of my family, this was never an inconvenience. But living alone in a place that wasn’t your home country required a lot of adjustment, mainly doing everything on your own. You had to learn things that you’ve never seen and known.

This was one of the methods of teaching the sons of the Thanakitpaisan family.

It was their luck to have a son who was mature since childhood. It didn't take long for me to get used to the culture there, where I went to parties, attended sports clubs, worked a part-time job, and even had typical American teen sex. Being Asian did give me some advantages, when it came to distinguishing myself from the others.

I could only smile when talking to the many blonde women who bragged about our experiences in bed, amongst their group of friends. After some time, I felt differently about it.

"Sib.”

"Yes?" I leaned back on the sofa, and raised my head from his screen when I heard my name.

Neung came downstairs. He was wearing a thick gray cardigan with a scarf. "I’m going to go meet a friend. You're not going anywhere today, right? "

"Hmm."

"Okay, I might be coming back late. Please get my package when it arrives. You’re not going out with your girlfriend, right?”

"We broke up.”

"Huh?” Neung frowned. "You dumped another one? Again? You know, you don’t have the face of a womanizer.”

"…"

Neung opened the door of the house. For a moment, the cool outside air blew in, until the hot air from the heater disappeared. I didn’t care much about either, and stayed looking at my phone screen.

I’m not a womanizer.

It’s just that every time I got together with a girlfriend, something felt wrong. I knew I wasn’t in love with the first girl. The others, I didn’t like particularly much. Sometimes the girls didn’t like me much either, and only wanted a partner themselves, so we’d eventually separate.

It was true, that I was only in the ninth grade. But sex here was too normalized. It had become so normal that I’d become bored. When sex became so commonplace, all excitement was lost.

Mom: (send picture)

Mom: I’ve sent you Thai ingredients that should be delivered soon. They’ll be waiting for you.

Mom: Today, I went to see Aunt Run, do you still remember the house next door? Today is the Aunt's birthday. All of her sons have come home.

Mom: I saw it and I missed you and Neung.

I looked at the message that popped up, from the other side of the world. It was dark here, but over there it was probably in the middle of the day. It was time for them to eat.

Mom: Do you remember Gene? Gene and Jap are all grown up.

Gene?

After reading my mother’s message, it was natural to think of the past. I missed it. During my childhood I would run and play with him everyday, and just the same, Gene would play with me almost every day.

I still remembered “P’Gene” clearly after all these years.

We were five years apart. But we somehow became closer than me and my own brother. Since I moved out of the house, we never saw each other again. We didn’t have any more contact with each other.

When my mother talked about that time, I felt nostalgic.

I moved my finger to type to ask for a picture from my mother. In the end, I sent a simple sticker. I sat on the sofa in the living room for awhile before retiring to my bedroom to shower.

In my warm bedroom, so different from the night air outside, I picked up my phone again. I went to Facebook to catch up with everything back home. My finger kept scrolling through my news feed, my face blank. I started to feel sleepy, but before I could fall asleep I saw a status.

I wasn’t friends with the person who posted. But I was friends with his mother, who was tagged in the photo.

Jap Jarernpipat posted a picture.

This year, my mother has lost another year, haha.

In the picture was a group of six people. The background was a wide garden and a long table. Both of my parents, and Auntie Run and Uncle Teep were there. But the one that most caught the eye was the man in the lower right corner.

The other person grinned until his eyes were crescents. His hands were raised, flashing a peace sign. His hand held a cake tray with a delicious golden egg. The corner of the mouth was stained with white cream, like he was teasing someone. He was smiling, which made his cheeks round and full.

I couldn't take my eyes off of him. For a second, there was a strange numbness in my fingertips and toes.

I didn’t need anyone to tell me who that was.

P’Gene.

He was still wearing a white uniform shirt. It had been many years since we’d met, if counted by age. Gene would have been in university for three years.

Usually, I was the kind of person who didn’t care about the people around me, or anyone else. But this time, I couldn't control my fingertips. I clicked onto Jap’s Facebook page.

Chasing him down, I found a status posted with the person I was looking for tagged.

Jap Jarernpipat posted a picture

My brother brought me to the movies. What kind of crazy alien movie is this? I might puke, but maybe you guys on Facebook will like it.

The post was from three days ago. One was a picture of a cinema ticket on the top floor of a department store in the heart of Bangkok and the other was of P’Gene in a T-shirt and jeans. He hugged a bucket of popcorn. His hand was holding a large glass of water, lifting it up to his lips and sucking. It was a funny candid photo that many of his friends on Facebook commented on to make fun of him.

...but for me, the only word that came to mind was “lovely”.

I didn’t know why I was doing this but I pressed “save that image”.

Jap Jarernpipat posted a picture

My stupid little brother, you make the whole house look bad.

They were in a garden in the corner of the house that felt familiar to me, but was a little fuzzy. They were in front of a flower bush that had been trimmed into a square. Gene was sitting down, with his butt on the ground. A blue hose fell next to him, the hose spraying in another direction. It made him wet all over soaking his shirt, the thin material clinging to his body.

Both of his arms were behind him, to support his body. Therefore, his shirt and body were stretched, so I could see two small nubs contrasted and poking through his white shirt.

My eyebrows furrowed together, and I frowned.

I cursed when my body immediately had a strong reaction, just from the one picture.

I pressed the comment section, when I saw the high number of comments.

Jiranon Jarernpipat: Jap stop posting pictures of other people.

(Reply) Jap Jarernpipat attached video clip.

I clicked play immediately.

"Ow, P’Jap!”

“Hahaha, why would you say you’ll help me water the plants? You can help if the grass is dead.”

“Can you turn off the water for me first? Why are you recording?”

P’Gene raised his white hand. He wiped the water from his face, and pushed himself off the ground. His shirt clung to his body, so I could see everything. He had the voice of a man, but he was still so cute.

Finally, the clip ended.

There were still a lot of other videos that Jap posted pranking Gene, all of which stopped me from becoming bored. I saved all of them to my phone and computer. In the end, when more and more accumulated, I created a whole separate folder.

That night when I fell asleep, my brain was filled with pictures of the boy next door, who I hadn’t seen in years.

Another morning, days later, I woke up frowning, and I had to gently breathe out. I’d dreamt of P’Gene again. Since seeing that picture that night, there hadn’t been a day where I could go without seeing his face.

I knew Gene’s Facebook. But he didn’t update much, except to change his avatar or cover photo. But Jap’s Facebook page had tons of pictures of Gene. So I was still able to look at Gene’s pictures and progress in life everyday, like some kind of psychopath.

Even when I closed my eyes to sleep sometimes, I still saw his pictures.

I didn’t want to be this way, but I couldn’t control my subconscious.

I always saw Gene lying in my wide bed. He would smile at me, his cheeks soft and reddish. His hands would hold on to me, and his mouth would gently say, “Sib.”

It was a fantasy that any teenage boy would have. But it wasn’t a woman. Instead, it was the boy next door, who always loved and saw me as a brother.

I circled back to look at his pictures every day. In the end, the feeling accumulated like a huge mountain of snow.

I want to meet him in real life.

I want to hug him.

I want to smell him.

I want to kiss his mouth. I want to do to him what I do in my dreams.

Since the day I saw his picture and until today, my thoughts and feelings had become more and more intense. So intense, that sometimes I was afraid of myself.

I’d already decided how I’d deal with this.

“Will you finish school here?” Neung had packed all his bags and was ready to go because he finished his studies. I leaned against the door frame, looking into his room.

“Actually, it’s nice here too, you know.”

"No, I'm going home."

“So you’ve changed your mind then?”

I nodded.

“Well, our house is nice and of course, our parents miss you too.”

"…"

"I'm not going to be here anymore, don't bring any women into the house...but you're not dating any girls lately. So it's fine."

I sent off my brother, who took a taxi straight to the airport to go back home to Thailand. Personally, I still had a year to complete my studies.

In the past, I had never thought or worried about how fast or slow time would pass. But now, I felt jealous of my brother.

Back at the house, I picked up the phone. I was still for a while. Maybe it was because Neung had returned to Thailand, but I felt like chasing pictures wasn’t enough anymore. My fingers moved before I could decide to send a message to someone.

Nubsib tanagijpaisarn: P'Jap.

Nubsib tanagijpaisarn: Do you remember me?

I wanted to talk to someone who could tell me everything about P’Gene.

I wanted to learn everything about him.

#lovely writer #lovely writer the series #lovely writer spoilers #gene x nubsib #text

127 notes · View notes

morganaspendragonss · 3 years

Text

holly's august extravaganza day 4: a friend in me

📍 anon - I don't know but I feel like Carlos and Nancy can have such an awesome best friend dynamic. Maybe something sad/scary regarding Nancy happens where she has to make a report at the precinct and Carlos doesn't tell anyone as she made him promise so he starts to just check on Nancy and they just develop this caring, supportive, beautiful, fun, full of banter friendship to the amusement of TK and the 126.

kept this separate from your original ask because i want to keep those other prompts you sent alongside this one for later 😊

ao3 | 2k | hurt/comfort, brief references to gun violence, mostly just carlos and nancy being besties

Carlos has never seen Nancy look so small.

She’s sitting hunched over in one of the interrogation rooms, shock blanket around her shoulders, hands seemingly moving of their own volition to tear the empty styrofoam cup in front of her to shreds. As soon as Carlos had seen her being escorted into the precinct, shaking like a leaf and clutching her coat like a lifeline, he’d persuaded the officer with her to let him take over the case. His association with the 126 is well known so the officer had been reluctant, but Carlos had managed to wear him down, saying that he doesn’t really know Nancy that well.

And it’s—it’s not exactly a full lie. Through their hangs and TK’s stories, he’s coming to see Nancy as a force of nature, a woman who will let nothing and no-one stand in her way, whether that’s out on the field or during a game of Monopoly. But of her personal life, Carlos knows next to nothing; she mentioned a sister a few weeks ago, and TK delights in teasing her about her growing crush on Marjan, but that’s about it.

He needs to make more of an effort, he decides. When they’re anywhere else but a police station.

Carlos knocks lightly on the door to announce his presence before entering the room, sending her what he hopes is a reassuring smile. Nancy visibly relaxes at the sight of him and she drops the remains of her cup, though Carlos doesn’t miss the continuing tremble to her hands.

“Hey Nancy,” he says, sliding into the seat opposite her. “How are you doing?”

Nancy’s lips twitch, the corners barely curving into the beginnings of a wry smile. She breathes out shakily, meeting Carlos’s eyes for the briefest second before staring back down at the table. “I’m not great,” she answers, and for her to admit to that… Well, Carlos suspects it’s not a regular occurrence.

He nods, reluctantly pulling out his notebook and pen, hesitating before flipping to the next blank page. Nancy tracks his movements, resignation clearly etched all over her features. Carlos glances at the two-way mirror—not that it does him any good—then reaches across the table to take Nancy’s hand.

“We don’t have to do this right now,” he murmurs. “If you need more time, just say the word and I’ll leave. Or if you’d prefer to talk to someone you don’t know, we can do that too. Anything you need.”

The sudden tightness of Nancy’s grip is unexpected, as is the flash of panic in her eyes.

“Please, don’t go,” she whispers. “I don’t—” She cuts herself off, shutting her eyes and breathing slowly for a few seconds. Slowly, her hold on Carlos begins to loosen until her hand is slack in his, then she draws both hands into her lap and straightens in her chair. When her eyes reopen, she seems more like the Nancy Carlos knows—strong, confident, assertive—though there’s still clearly an undercurrent of fear underneath it all.

“I’m fine. Let’s do this.”

Carlos bites back an are you sure and settles for clicking his pen, his smile unwavering. “Can you run me through what happened, exactly?” he asks. “Take your time.”

A second or two passes, then Nancy nods, her voice steady when she speaks. “I was restocking the bus at the end of shift. I was alone; Captain Vega was in her office and TK was with the others in the showers—he did try to help but he’d had to go into a fire on our last call to help a patient and the smell of smoke was giving me a headache, so I told him to go.”

Carlos pauses in his note-taking, mentally filing that last piece of information away for follow-up as soon as he sees his boyfriend again. Judging by the amused quirk to Nancy’s eyebrow, she’s fully aware of where his mind has gone, so Carlos clears his throat and motions for her to continue, forcing his thoughts back to the present.

“Like I said, I was alone. I didn’t mind it; it was kind of relaxing, you know? Then this guy appeared from nowhere and pointed a gun at me, saying if I called out or turned on the siren or anything, he’d shoot. I thought—” She inhales sharply, her knuckles going white on the tabletop and her jaw clenching tightly. Her voice sounds different when she next speaks, more controlled, as though forcing each word out. “I thought it was happening again. I thought he was going to take me somewhere, make me his personal pet paramedic, something like that.

“Turns out, he just wanted drugs. I gave him what we had on the rig and he seemed satisfied, so I figured he’d shoot me anyway ‘cause I’d seen his face, right? He didn’t—obviously—but it looked like he was considering it.” Nancy pauses and flicks her gaze up at Carlos, biting her lip. “I think he might have done it,” she admits quietly, “but he got spooked by one of the guys making noise so he just bolted. I’m not sure how long it was between that and TK coming back and finding me. I’m sorry.”

Carlos shakes his head. “It’s okay. We can check the cameras at the station. With luck, that should get us an ID, maybe a license plate if he drove. I think that’s almost everything; just one more question, if that’s okay. Can you tell me what you gave him exactly?”

Nancy nods. “Morphine, Ativan, tramadol… I’d have to check stocks for the exact amounts.”

“We’ll do that, don’t worry about it.” Carlos taps his pen on the pages before flipping his notebook shut and leaning across the table again. “Are you okay?” he asks softly. “Speaking as a friend and not a cop, if there’s anything you need, anything I can help with, let me know.”

She smiles wanly. “I’m okay. I just want to go home and forget all this ever happened.”

“Fair enough. I’ll walk you out to your car.”

Carlos half-expects her to brush him off, but she just nods and allows him to escort her back through the precinct and out to her car. He dithers awkwardly, shuffling his feet as Nancy turns to him, one hand on the door handle.

“Thank you, Carlos. For real. I have the feeling it wasn't a coincidence that you were the one in that room with me.”

The tips of Carlos’s ears go pink as he finds himself caught out. “That, uh… That would not be inaccurate.”

“Well, thanks.” She pulls open the car door and Carlos takes a step back, wanting to wait until she’s safely away to go back inside. Nancy ducks as if to get in, then pauses and straightens again, biting her lip as she looks back at him.

“Hey, Carlos?” she says. “Can you do me a favour and not tell the others? Not even TK. They— They know vaguely what happened, but I’d prefer it if the details and, uh, some of the other stuff I told you could be kept between us.”

He agrees immediately, just grateful that she trusts him enough to handle this for her. “No-one will know any more than they need to,” he promises, which seems to relieve her. She thanks him again, then gets in the car and drives away, Carlos watching after her with one hand raised in farewell.

It grows from there.

It’s not intentional exactly, but one text to check up on her soon turns into a steady stream of messages, stories and jokes and even the occasional meme passing back and forth between them. Carlos especially appreciated Nancy's carefully curated collection of dirt on TK, which, as a concerned boyfriend, it is his duty to know. Many a conversation has been spent griping about TK's accident prone ways or sighing over his latest mishap.

Lovingly, of course.

Nancy, 15.48: you’ll never guess what happened this time

Carlos, 16.22: ?

In answer, he receives a picture of a dejected-looking TK sprawled on the floor with Buttercup’s front paws squarely resting on his chest. Buttercup’s tongue is lolling out, a wide grin on his face, and in the background stand the rest of the crew. All of them also seem to have their phones pointed towards TK—probably the reason TK looks so down, as Carlos knows his boyfriend couldn’t be upset with Buttercup to save his life.

Nancy, 16.26: he thought he’d try to teach buttercup some tricks. turns out, dog trainers exist for a reason

Carlos has to stifle a laugh—technically, he is supposed to be working—but his attempt at being subtle is thwarted when his phone repeatedly pings with similar texts and photos from Paul, Marjan, and Mateo. He screenshots the sudden influx of notifications and sends it to Nancy before saving every single photo.

Nancy responds with a laughing emoji and a promise to keep him updated.

Not all of their conversations are about TK, naturally.

Carlos, 19.10: I don’t understand why you don’t just talk to her

Nancy, 19.12: i do talk to her. every shift, actually

Carlos, 19.13: Nancy

Nancy, 19.13: carlos

Nancy, 19.14: i don’t even know if she’s into women, alright? it’s not like i can just march up and ask, that’s like waving a banner saying ‘hey, i’m in love with you’ in her face

Carlos, 19.16: Oh, we’re talking about love now, are we?

Nancy, 19.17: can it, reyes

Carlos, 19.20: Noted. Look, take it from someone who’s been navigating gay relationships in Texas his whole life. Sometimes you just have to go for it. Ask her for coffee, test the waters, see where it leads. You never know, it might work out. I mean, look at me

Nancy, 19.24: wow, way to rub your happiness in my face 😑

(Carlos doesn’t find out if she follows his advice, but he does notice her and Marjan showing up to their hangs together)

(Nancy does not appreciate his smugness)

Without even realising, they become a formidable team. This fact is highlighted one game night about three months after the incident, when Nancy and Marjan blow into his and TK’s house, a determined glint in both their eyes.

“We’re switching up the teams,” Marjan declares, much to TK’s outrage.

“What? Why?”

“Because,” Nancy continues, “we’re tired of losing to you guys. You’re like, freakishly good at board games and it’s not fair. Plus, we have to watch you both being all lovey all the time when you’re on the same team and it’s exhausting. We want to see you being competitive for once.”

TK pouts, but Carlos just shrugs when he looks to him for backup. “It’ll be fun,” he says, smiling at Nancy and Marjan. TK still looks put out, so he leans in close and half-murmurs, “C’mon babe. How about a prize for the winner?”

TK perks up considerably at the suggestion, and, going by the twin looks of despair on Nancy and Marjan’s faces, they caught both the comment and the innuendo. Marjan groans and Nancy raises her eyes skyward, as if pleading for divine intervention.

“This was a great idea, actually,” TK says, grinning. He quirks an eyebrow at Nancy. “You and me, Nance?”

That seems to shake Nancy out of her silent prayers for strength. “Uh, no. I’m with Carlos.” To emphasise the point, she strides forward and grabs Carlos’s arm, dragging him to the couch. He nudges her gently when they sit, smirking at the disgruntled way she digs into the snack bowl.

“You did say you wanted to see us being competitive.”

“Shut up.”

In the end, TK ends up paired with Mateo, and Marjan with Paul. It’s clear from the outset who’s going to win—Nancy and Carlos dominate the board, and not even Paul’s master strategy is enough to catch up with them.

They win by a comfortable margin, fist-bumping in celebration. There’s a general air of bemusement in the room, and when Carlos looks round at the others, he finds four pairs of eyes fixed on them.

“What?”

“Since when have you two been such a good team?” Paul asks, leaning back in his chair and raising an eyebrow.

Carlos shrugs, sharing a smile with Nancy. “Guess we just are.”

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #carlos reyes #nancy gillian #marjan marwani #tk strand #tarlos #lone star #911ls #holly's august extravaganza #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing #📍 anon

59 notes · View notes