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#the leaves are falling and my love so are we
onlyswan · 1 day
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summary: in which for you, jungkook would commit crimes and his mother would peel oranges.
idol!jk x reader | fluff, angst | word count: 9.5k
warnings/content: oc passes out in the shower / jk does something crazy i’m literally insane about this / baby bam cameo 🥺 / stitches >:( / blood draw / mention of speeding / jealous not but rlly jealous oc is pissed owfffff at the nurse who has a crush on jk lmao / jk and his mom loves them to death tho so obv who wins / love is beautiful let’s all cry <3
> in which masterlist!
note: *sitcom sound effect of crowd cheering* I’M BACK 🥰 hope u enjoy the product of my madness during finals season hehehe. and special thanks to my cutieful proofreader rio!! you’re one of my most favorite people i’ve ever met 🥺💕 + my beloveds who came to the rescue when i had medical questions !! i didn’t expect to receive help from soooo many and i’m so freaking grateful i could cri :")
“i ordered it the other day. how did it arrive so early?”
jungkook walks back inside the apartment, arms occupied by a stack of boxes that arrived in the mail yesterday.
he arrives at the living room, head tilting to the side in confusion when he realizes that the netflix show he was watching on the television is no longer playing. instead, there is the news channel.
he gasps.
“baby, you’re alive!”
your swollen eyes flicker up to him.
you’re lying on the sofa with your legs lazily dangling on the edge. there’s a toothbrush in your mouth, foam of bubbles between your lips, but your arm barely exerts the energy to make it do its job.
“you were asleep from afternoon to morning. do you know that? you’ve never done that before!” he exclaims, carelessly tossing the boxes on the floor. “i was getting scared!”
you only hum to acknowledge his existence, pushing yourself up from the sofa and unknowingly dodging the hug your boyfriend wanted to greet you with.
he ends up collapsing face first on the empty space you left, hurt and offended.
the bathroom door opens and closes.
he flips over, whining. “yah, we didn’t see each other for a day. didn’t you miss me?!”
still not a single word from you. sleeping that long must not have cured your exhaustion, jungkook surmises. you tend to be glum and cranky when you’re feeling unwell, as is usually the case when you wake up as unrested as before.
he doesn’t always know how to make you feel better, but he always tries anyway.
“our new bedsheets arrived!” he announces from the other side of the bathroom door, making himself loud so that you can hear him despite the shower running. “do you want to unbox them with me?!”
he allows the seconds to pass, but with his hands on his hips, he eventually begins to tap his foot on the floor.
“baby? may i go in?”
he turns the knob, just to be prepared incase the answer is a yes, but it doesn’t turn. a sad pout forms on his face.
huh? why is it locked?
you must genuinely don’t want to be bothered today.
“guess that’s a no.” he mutters to himself before calling out to you. “okay, i’ll wait for you!”
with a crestfallen sigh, he begins to walk back to the living room.
he doesn’t go far, however.
only several steps later, a series of loud crashes is heard from the bathroom and his heart thunders in his chest with a combination of numbing shock and fear.
“____, what was that?! did you fall?!”
he aggressively pounds at the door, extremely desperate this time around. he has no plans on leaving until he knows that you’re safe and sound.
“baby! open this! are you alright…? are you hurt? you’re scaring me. please, answer!”
he pauses, catching his breath as his mind runs a thousand miles per hour.
“____!”
he strikes the door with an open palm one more time, more so to express his frustration that is only growing worse with every tick of the clock. he only ends up hurting himself in the process.
“that’s it! i’m opening the door!”
he frantically whips his head around, racking his brain for the location of the key. there are two copies of it somewhere in the apartment, but in his panicked state, he is unable to pinpoint either of their specific spots. and he can’t fucking afford to waste any more time.
“ah, fuck!” he curses, left with no other choice but to give in to the instinct of breaking down the door with the strength and durability of his body alone.
he would most definitely break his shoulder first before the door.
only after the first try, that much is clear.
and so, with madness inconsiderate of his agony, he resorts to kicking it over and over again.
the repeated loud collisions rattles poor bam from his slumber. not long after, the dog’s barking creates a booming dissonance with his grunts and kicks at the door.
when it finally swings open, the force of his own body sends him stumbling on the bathroom floor, but he doesn’t waste time in bouncing back to his feet.
the twisting of his stomach is instantaneous.
there lies your naked, unconscious figure behind the glass— surrounded by bottles of hair and body products that must have fallen when your hands were searching for something to hold on to.
his voice cracks, breathless.
“baby, no… no, no, no.”
he kneels on the floor, and despite the strong urge to carry you out of there, he tries to calm down. it’s the first rule in every emergency case; professionals reiterate in seminars and news channel segments.
keep calm. keep calm. keep calm.
he won’t be able to forgive himself if he ends up causing more harm than good.
“____, can you hear me?!”
his instinct tells him to inspect every inch of you for any sign of injury, but then his vision becomes too blurry. he curses at the hindrance and forces himself to turn off the showerhead that was left running.
he harshly wipes his face, rushing back to you.
“please, please, please. wake up.” he begs.
he has a feeling that it’s futile. you can’t hear him and he’s wasting his breath. the thing is he doesn’t know what else to do.
“baby…”
he carefully turns your head over, almost relieved because he hasn’t seen blood so far.
almost.
at last, he gets a full view of your face, and he finds blood dripping. this has always been one of his most paralyzing fears— seeing you get hurt. now that it’s become a reality, there’s a part of him that wants to believe this is some kind of twisted dream.
“how- how did this even happen…?” he cries out, his own blood running cold.
for everything that happens after, his body acts on its own. bam is a constant presence in his peripheral, but he is barely in his right mind to acknowledge the presence aside from, “bam, move. daddy might step on you.”
he carries you out of the bathroom, kicking aside the beaten up door. he has made up his mind about bringing you to the hospital, but he can’t bring you like… this.
he lays you down on the bed, all that gentleness switched off in a split second so he can sprint to the walk-in closet. he hastily grabs whatever is on top of your neatly folded stacks of shirts and pants; and then a fresh towel on the way out. the gentleness returns as he pats your face dry, the pure white stained with dark red. he flips the towel and uses the other side to wipe the rest of your body, in a race against time but mindful of treating you like fragile glass.
once that is over, he dresses you in a pair of gray sweatpants, and with some difficulty, an orange t-shirt.
any person with functioning eyes will be able to tell that the shades don’t go together.
if you were conscious, you’d definitely berate him for making you wear this outfit.
but you’re not.
jungkook effortlessly swoops you in his arms— dripping wet hair, his and yours, leaving behind a trail of raindrops from your apartment floor to the cemented parking lot.
your body feels like it’s floating.
are you dreaming…?
you must be dreaming.
you hear an uncoordinated symphony of voices, but you can’t comprehend a word. in pursuit of clarity, you force yourself to open your eyes.
the voices grow a little louder. faceless figures hover you; a bright light shines over your face.
your senses must be playing cruel tricks. now it feels like you’re drowning, sinking into the unknown, and your body has succumbed into numbing defeat.
you want to sleep a little more.
you must truly be exhausted. it’s okay.
you’ve fought hard until now. you’ve done enough… has anyone tried in life as much as you did?
just as your eyes flutter shut, you regain sensation of your hand; a soft squeeze and a call of your name.
jungkook gently strokes your hair, sighing for the nth time since you got transferred to a private room. he’s relieved that all the scans came back clean so serious head and brain injuries have been ruled out. the doctor also asked him questions and ran some other tests before concluding that electrolyte imbalance caused you to pass out; the culmination of stress and fatigue from work, as well as your strong period, most likely being the main reasons. he didn’t even know about the latter until you stained the white sheets with blood.
it was fucking frightening being in the sidelines as they rushed to check on your vitals and to administer oxygen. even now, it’s unbearable to see you with a needle in your hand and a few stitches above your eyebrow. he already anticipated you not being pleased with having to get stitches specifically either; gasping and sitting up as soon as you heard the word come from his lips post-consciousness. consequently, the dizziness hits you. the doctor wasn’t happy about that.
“this is so annoying. i don’t want a scar.” you whine as you study your face on the camera of jungkook’s phone. “did i have to fall on my prettier side?”
“what are you saying? you’re pretty from any angle.” he interjects. “be careful. the wound might open up.”
you jut out your bottom lip, looking up at him with glassy eyes. the sight instantly tugs at his heartstrings, and he pulls you in for a hug. maybe he’s a little sad that you don’t appear concerned about the fact that you passed out, but god is he relieved to finally hear your voice again.
“ah, i should call the doctor.”
but his face remains buried in your hair.
“they told me to do so.”
“you should-”
“why?!” he abruptly reacts, drawing back. “does anything hurt?”
“chill. you said that they told you to.”
“oh, that’s right.” he sheepishly smiles. he can’t help but to overreact; he hasn’t turned off the alarms in his head. “i’ll go tell the nurse to get her.”
he starts to walk towards the door, but a tug at his shirt holds him back.
you shyly look at him with a scrunch of your nose. “i’m nervous. hug me for five more seconds.”
fuck, he would move heaven and earth to protect you from everything that can cause you harm.
“why would you be nervous? i’m right here.” he scolds you lightheartedly, not hesitating to seize the chance to hug you again. “i love you.”
“i love you more.”
you pull away after five seconds, and he’d be disappointed about you being too true to your words if you didn’t kiss him on the cheek so ardently.
his heart almost jumps out of his chest when you gasp out of nowhere as if you just realized that you left the gas tank open at home. your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets.
“bam!”
oh, right. your child.
“my brother’s house!” he eases your mind.
you breathe out in relief, the heel of your palm pressing against the left side of your chest where your heart lives. “good… i was worried. he was probably more scared because he didn’t understand what was going on. i feel bad.”
you love bam so much; it makes him so happy. you’re so concerned about him even when you’re the one on the hospital bed. you make pretty good parents, huh?
“that’s right. he was worried about you, too. that’s why you need to recover quickly so he won’t be sad!”
the doctor kindly asked jungkook to give the two of you some time alone, so he’s been idly sitting at the lobby after buying a bottle of water. he’s pretty much used to visiting the hospital for routine checkups considering the nature of his job, but it always feels strange to be here for the other different purposes of the place.
is there any other building sadder than this?
if you heard him utter this question, he could easily predict what you’d say: but is there any other building with more love?
if he tries hard enough, he could listen to your voice and paint you in his mind.
you see love in every place that you step foot into.
his curious eyes continue to wander around. he spots people carrying flowers, baskets, and containers of food. there’s also a teenage boy in his high school uniform, carrying a teddy bear larger than him.
not that he wants you to stay longer, but if you have to, he writes down a mental note to bring one of your favorite plushies.
he eventually gets tired; considers scrolling on his phone again, but he decides against it when his gaze lands on a little boy sleeping soundly on his mother’s lap. suddenly, he is reminded of his childhood before he moved to seoul.
how simple life can be when you’re innocently sleeping on your mother’s lap, trusting that everything will be alright.
“ah, i miss my mom…” he utters absentmindedly. “i miss my mom so much. i should call her.”
his reminiscing is interrupted when a wheelchair rolls by infront of him. it is leisurely being pushed by an old man who wants to bring his wife outside for some fresh air.
in a parallel universe somewhere, jungkook can imagine them as you and him.
he sits up straight, looking back at the clock on the wall.
how long has it been? he wants to be by your side again.
“jungkook!” your face lights up as soon as your boyfriend steps into the room. “what took you so long?”
“i know. sorry, baby. i got a little distracted outside.”
“i’ve been waiting.” you pout. “why? were people bothering you?”
“not at all. don’t worry.”
you pat the empty space beside you. “here.”
“i think the bed is meant for only one person- damn, okay, okay-”
he swiftly gives in upon seeing the hurt on your face, occupying the space you reserved for him. “i love you. don’t be sad.”
you’re aching too much to wait for him to get settled. you wrap your arms around his waist like you’re a magnet attracted to steel, clinging to him for comfort.
if you’re being honest, you don’t know how you feel about being in this situation. overwhelmed? maybe a tiny bit relieved. in the past, it didn’t matter whether you were sick or not. you needed to work or else it was guaranteed that you wouldn’t survive. life is easier now. you have the luxury to use this as a reason to take a break. you have someone who takes care of you as naturally as he breathes.
“how was the doctor?”
“she’s nice… she just asked me about the things i remember before i passed out. then about my work, diet, sleeping schedule… stuff like that.”
you pull away a little, just enough so you can see each other’s face. you squint at him suspiciously. “did you have to get an expensive room?”
he chuckles. “how did you know? they didn’t tell you that, did they?”
“i literally have the perfect view of the fountain from here!” you point at the large window behind you. “i just passed out. i would’ve been fine downstairs.”
“don’t say it like that. it could’ve been so much worse.” he says with knitted eyebrows, palm cupping the back of your head and caressing softly.
he heaves a sigh.
“i was so scared that you injured your head. seriously, i thought i’d go insane if i lost you! i went past the speed limit driving you here!”
the distress he was under is apparent. you can’t help but to be racked with the guilt. you always do this, making him worry himself to death. you don’t usually do it purpose, and that only makes you feel shittier.
“you’re right. i’m sorry.”
“well, i…” he sighs. “it’s okay. i know you didn’t want this either. it’s not your fault.”
you press your lips into a thin line. “it kind of is.”
your lost eyes meet, and a connection is established like it’s a constellation sending a secret message. your heart flutters when he giggles, dimples and starry eyes and crinkled corners.
“stop it. it’s impossible to scold you when you’re so cute and self-aware.”
“then don’t scold me.” you sniffle sadly to kindle pity in him. “i’ve had enough of it from the doctor.”
your brain still works well enough to help you escape from trouble. that’s a good sign, right?
“my poor baby.” he coos, cradling your cheeks.
his hands are warm. you put yours over them; a wordless signal telling him you don’t want him to go away.
“let’s not get hurt again, please. we need to stay healthy and take good care of ourselves so this won’t happen again, alright?”
you nod in obedience. your eyes are fixed on him but you’re not certain if you’re registering what he’s telling you in your pitiful, shaken brain.
“the hospital already did me many favors. if we go back, i might have to build them another fountain as a gift.”
and knowing jungkook, with his golden heart and his black card, jokes become half-meant.
“what do they need that for?!”
he bursts out laughing, yet again, after you chide at him for his ridiculous and unnecessary expenses.
“nothing, i’m just grateful! i was really so scared but i’m relieved now thanks to them. i can’t remember the last time i felt that way.”
“you’re not scared of a lot of things.” you point out.
“that’s right.” he agrees. “only you scare me these days.”
you grimace. “am i scary?”
“you are, sometimes.” he laughs, squishing your cheeks together. “but i mean the things that could hurt you.”
as if on cue, your stomach grumbles and bellows like a monster stuck in an empty cave. your eyes grow twice its size in bewilderment, which then morphs into embarrassment.
“my stomach hurts.” you say quietly.
your nostrils flare as jungkook miserably fails to hold back his laughter. one of his hands leave your face, rubbing your tummy over the thin hospital gown.
“oh no, what are we going to do? where does it hurt? here?” he pouts. “should we go feed you now to make it go away?”
“what is wrong with you?” you slap his shoulder in annoyance. “i’m not a baby!”
“yah, be careful!” he yells, wincing as if he is the one in pain. “be gentle with the one with the iv!”
“you know one good thing that came out of this?” you gush out of nowhere.
you’re mixing up the ingredients of your bibimbap bowl with a spoon and a pair of chopsticks.
jungkook noisily drinks the final sips of his banana milk. afterwards, he makes a game out of shooting the box in the trash bin.
“what could that be?” he asks, doubtful.
he sits on the chair beside your bed. you greet him with a delighted grin, licking your thumb stained with gochujang.
“you proved your love. you committed a crime for me.”
he gasps to humor you, body freezing as if he’s currently processing the newly-learned information in his brain.
“oh? you’re right- i did! and you know what? i’d do it again!”
with a mouthful of rice, you shake your head in disagreement furiously. “you’re cute. but that’s the first and last.”
“but how are you sure that it’s the first?” he raises an eyebrow quizically.
silly enough, you envy him for being able to do so.
you hum in thought. “i guess you’ve stolen a few things for me, too.”
“few? you mean a loooot?”
“you’re the one who brings home food and random things.” you roll your eyes. “i never ask you to.”
“you told me you wanted the service bell!”
you feel yourself become flushed with sheepishness. he’s not lying. you’ve always found the object fascinating as a child, so you couldn’t help but to tell him to sneakily take one home after filming a competitive run bts episode.
did you have a silly phase where you and jungkook used it to summon each other just to laugh together about it?
perhaps.
“well, you’re rich. you could’ve bought me one instead.”
“but it was already there.” he reasons with a wide grin, gesturing infront of him. “i wanted to give it to my lover right away.”
his lover?
jungkook has successfully replaced your frown with an enamored smile.
“i made your heart flutter just now, didn’t i?”
a hospital stay has never felt this comfortable— not terrifying. you have stitches on your face and to add to that, this hospital gown feels super unflattering. somehow, your boyfriend’s loving gaze remains steady and you are melting.
“shut up,” you mutter, flustered, handing him the pair of chopsticks. “please eat with me. i can’t finish this on my own.”
“why would you let them put the needle in my dominant hand?”
you stomp your feet on the ground as jungkook squeezes some toothpaste onto a newly-bought toothbrush.
“i’m sorry! i was too stressed out so i just pointed! i think i got confused with- with left and right.”
you didn’t realize this while you were eating; that you were unconsciously holding the spoon with your non-dominant hand because the other felt uncomfortable. maybe because it was a simple task, scooping food and bringing it to your mouth. brushing your teeth, on the other hand… can be quite an arm workout.
“eeeee!”
he shows his complete set of teeth, urging you to do the same. you stare at him blankly.
“eeeee!” he repeats with heightened enthusiasm.
left with no other choice— you copy his awkward smile.
“there we go!” he praises you with an over-enthusiastic beam.
he carries on to brush your teeth, gingerly holding your chin to keep you steady as he does his job.
this is the first time jungkook is doing this for you. today is definitely not one of your finest moments. it feels a bit silly to be in this situation, and you feel bad for putting your boyfriend in this position in the first place. you can see that he’s trying his best—unnecessarily focused—and that he loves you, but you just hate giving him a hard time.
with a soft smile, he wipes the bubbles that overflowed past your lips.
“okay, spit.”
you spit out more of the bubbles on the sink. you assume that he’s finished, except he’s making another vowel sound for you to mimic the mouth shape of.
“ahhhh-”
“this is embarrassing!”
“baby, really? this is where you draw the line?” he playfully squeezes your cheeks together. “it’s almost over! ahhhh!”
and you let him do this thing, but not without a glare that is masking the embarrassing truth: you might be enjoying this more than you care to admit.
“see? was that so bad?”
as he tenderly pats your face dry in the aftermath, he says: “i’m sorry. bear with it a little more. let me take care of you so you’ll be healthy again.” and you feel every ounce of his sincerity pierce through the barriers surrounding your soul.
“stop it…” your voice suddenly comes out broken.
you want to put all the blame on your period for the tears that are now brimming your eyes, but jungkook is your biggest weakness of all and that is an explanation enough.
“why are you crying?” he panics. “what did i say?”
“it’s your fault.”
you break down into loud sobs, incapable of even keeping your eyes open. you never understood why we close our eyes when we cry, but right now, you know that you can’t bear to witness his reaction.
“you’re so sweet.”
the towel that was wiping the water from your mouth is now drying the tears from your stained cheeks.
“am i making you sad?”
you furiously shake your head. how could he say such a thing? he is the greatest joy of your life.
“no?”
“no!”
“okay, come here then.”
he wraps his arms around your trembling figure, caging you in the solace of his entire existence. a sense of calmness washes over your system, especially as he runs his hand across your back in gentle strokes. this isn’t his goal though, it seems. you hear none of his quiet shushes beseeching you to stop breaking his heart. he hopes you let go of everything that has been weighing on you, but he has already eased all your pains by loving you.
“ugh, i probably look horrible right now.” you force a chuckle to lighten up the mood, wiping your face with the back of your free hand. “i feel gross.”
“that’s not true.” he gazes at you fondly, brushing your hair with his fingers. “it’s actually infuriating how you look so beautiful still.”
“i know. i’m nice to look at; that’s why you tolerate my attitude.” you conclude in jest.
“yeah, sometimes.” he rides on the joke.
“what…?”
“i’m joking!” he rushes to take it back with a laugh. “of course i’m joking!”
you pout. “are you really?”
“oh, come onnnn.”
he coaxes you with a kiss on the lips— a good morning kiss long overdue. you’ve been spoiled rotten with affection; he knows you need more than one. he interrupts himself several times to kiss you.
“you know i’ll love you until our hair turns white and our skin all wrinkly.”
to be brutally honest, you’re not fond of imagining that far ahead. it’s daunting. you doubt your capability to age with grace. you’re horrified by the thought of having the majority of your life behind you. nostalgia has always been more bitter than sweet. but maybe this memory could be the sweetest of all, if jungkook truly stays by your side until then. in a cottage at the countryside like he said once, or a cabin by the ocean.
you’re both so young; so arrogant when it comes to making promises that are a shot in the dark. so fucking in love.
“me too.” you half-smile, scrunching your nose— a telltale sign of your joy. “now, get out. i really need to pee.”
his face becomes drained of blood. “but you’re st-”
“i won’t lock the door this time.” you cup his cheek, looking at his eyes reassuringly. “we don’t need property damage added to the bill.”
“did you not hurt yourself?”
“me?”
“you broke down the door. that’s not easy to do.”
you and jungkook make the best out of a bad deal. you’re squeezed together on the bed, browsing through television channels that seem to never end.
“it was easy because you were on the other side of it.”
that is what he claims confidently, but you are not fully convinced.
“wow, why do they have more channels than we do at home?”
“you didn’t answer my question.” you pout. “did you hurt yourself?”
“i didn’t hurt myself. i’m totally okay. i promise.”
he maintains eye-contact as he speaks. given the assurance, your tight chest unrestricts. jungkook is not a good liar. it’s a trait that causes him inconvenience every now and then, but it helps you to sleep soundly at night.
“should we just watch funny animal videos on youtube?”
“i guess that’s fine.”
it doesn’t show but you feel excitement run in your veins aside from the iv fluids that feel peculiarly cold.
from under your cheek, his chest vibrates with a giggle. “okay, hold on.”
as he pulls up the application, you tangle your legs together beneath the thin blanket. you hear the rapid tap tap tap of the remote control navigating the keypad while he types on the search bar, but your attention is someplace else. you’ve found the crook of his neck to sneak into, lazily kissing every inch of his exposed skin. your lips eventually trail up to his jaw. he smells so nice. you’re addicted.
“baby, someone can enter any minute.”
“i’m not doing anything.” you mumble.
you smile against his lips when he gives you a kiss as sweet as honey anyway.
“i’m curious about another thing.”
“what’s that?”
“did you cry?”
he comes to a still. the answer to that question requires a little time and thought.
“almost…”
“why almost?”
“no time. i had to bring you here, of course.” he replies.
you huff a laugh, exhaling a twinge of melancholia. “don’t cry.”
“i won’t. i’m happy now because you’re awake and fighting with me.”
“ow-”
your cry of pain is silenced when he squeezes you in an embrace that makes it nearly impossible to breathe.
“red panda!”
a squeal assaults both of your hearing as soon as your eyes land on the wide screen infront of the bed.
“i want one so fucking bad.”
the enunciated curse makes your boyfriend crack up in amusement. “that much?!”
jungkook opens his eyes to a nurse lightly nudging him awake.
“i’m sorry, i had to wake you up. i need to check vitals and draw blood.”
“shit, i’m sorry.” he panics.
his brain is foggy from the nap, but he still carefully sits up on the bed, wary of the iv line connected to your hand.
“i… was tired and i fell asleep.”
“it’s no problem; don’t worry.”
she smiles at him, but he doesn’t see it.
“you look adorable sleeping.”
“ah, really?” he awkwardly responds, absentminded. “it’s embarrassing.”
he stands on your side, about to disturb your peaceful rest much as it makes his heart ache with guilt, but you’re already stirring due to the absence of his warmth.
your heavy eyelids blink at the nurse in curiosity. “oh… do you need my blood?”
“yes, but i’ll take your blood pressure and temperature first.”
“okay,” you mumble, offering your arm. “it might be higher now because i’m scared.”
she chuckles at your joke. jungkook tries to share an endeared look with her and non-verbally communicate adorable, right?
“i promise i’ll be quick. although we definitely want it to be higher than earlier’s.”
you wince as the cuff around your upper arm goes as tight as it could, and you sigh at the same time that it begins to deflate.
“good, good, good,” she chants with a mumble. “it’s back in the normal range again…”
she brings out a digital thermometer from her pocket.
“you know where this goes.”
she hands it over to you, and you awkwardly place it in your armpit, holding it in place. it’s quiet as you wait for the device to make the beeping sound, except for her pen creating friction with your chart as she takes down notes.
“how’s your stitches? do you feel any discomfort?”
“it’s fine. thank you.”
not long after, you hear the beep. you return the thermometer to her, but not before taking a peak at the numbers displayed on the tiny screen. 36.8°C. you think you’ll live.
“i’ll draw your blood now.”
the nurse’s voice is sweet and reassuring, but it doesn’t quite ease the nervousness evident on your expression. your pupils shake as you watch her disinfect the area, and then comes out the long needle.
another one, jungkook laments inside.
“____, i’m right here.”
you crane your head, whimpering out his name. “jungkook,”
“it will be just a pinch. i’m inserting the needle now, alright?”
you take a sharp inhale.
if only he could switch positions with you, he would do it in a heartbeat. unfortunately, all he can do is caress your hair and whisper that it will be over soon.
“it hurts.” your damp eyelashes flutter, face twisting in discomfort. “i don’t like it.”
really, just a pinch? obviously a lie.
“hey, baby. look at the tv.”
the autoplay was left turned on after you fell asleep together. inside the screen is a puppy rolling around a snow-covered lawn. the wagging of its tail, the wide smile, and the pupils as big as boba balls: they all scream the happiness of an innocent.
“it’s so cute… i miss bam already. can we go to a dog park again?”
“of course!”
that promise sparks your smile. you turn to your side, and jungkook also catches a glimpse of the cotton taped to where you were poked.
“all done. you can go back to resting.”
“thank you. will you need to take blood again?” you inquire at the nurse.
“hm, probably. it depends on the doctor based on the results we get from this one.”
“can’t you just do it while i’m asleep? or is that not allowed?”
“baby…” jungkook snorts, hiding his face behind the palm of his hands.
the nurse laughs at your desperate suggestion. “that is honestly not a rare request, but the thing is… you might wake up in the middle of it and injure yourself. we can’t do that.”
“that won’t be a problem!” you passionately argue your case. “i’m a deep sleeper. seriously!”
“ah, thank you so much for your hard work!”jungkook intervenes, bowing to the nurse out of respect and gratitude. “i’m sure you’re busy. i will handle this!”
“oh yes, yes- thank you. please don’t forget the medicine for after dinner.”
“i won’t!”
“if you need anything, you know where to find me again.”
“yes,” he nods, chuckling. “thank you.”
“then i should leave…? but you’ll see me again later! bye!”
the door shuts, and his attention lands on your unimpressed form: a blank stare and arms folded infront of your chest.
uh-oh.
“did she seriously wink while saying that?”
“what?” he freezes, genuinely clueless. “i don’t know. i didn’t see anything. i was looking at you.”
“i’m right here- i’m the patient. why would you need anything from her? huh? why is she so excited to see you again?” you ramble angrily.
“right?!”
he climbs on the bed, reclaiming his spot next to you.
“that was weird.”
“what if she made it hurt on purpose? that…” you frown, glancing at your arm. “that didn’t really feel like a pinch to me.”
“ey, calm down. she wouldn’t.” he makes a doubtful face, laughing off the accusation. “…i don’t think so?”
you blink, exhaling in disbelief. “are you taking her side now?”
“of course not! baby, i’m just saying… a professional won’t do that.”
“why not? she’s still human. humans do stupid things when they like someone. she obviously likes you.”
“and so what?”
he grins with a spark of mischief, leaving an inch of a distance between your lips.
“i’m obviously yours.”
but you turn your cheek and your eyes fall on your lap, a pout highlighting your downcast mood.
“it’s so annoying.”
the regret sinks in after. he should’ve stuck to the golden rule: agree with everything that you say. there’s no point in having an argument no one will win. does it matter who’s right and wrong if each other’s sadness is contagious in addition to their own? your gut has almost always been right, and he’s old enough to be conscious of not allowing a stranger to put a dent on your relationship.
“are you serious? are you uncomfortable?” he tilts his head to try and get a better look at your face. “should i request for a different nurse?”
it’s quiet for a beat and he feels inclined to fill the silence with whatever enters his mind.
“i love you.”
almost immediately, your features soften and he knows your heart is also melting. the two of you bite the inside of your cheeks to hide a smile.
“no, there’s no need for that.”
but he still can’t help but to be worried. your peace of mind is his top priority. he doesn’t want you to be more stressed out, especially by things that he has the power to solve.
“are you sure?”
“she pissed me off. i need to piss her off too.”
of course, his ever stubborn and competitive lover. he sits up properly, amused and curious.
“and how will you do that?”
“i don’t know,” you nonchalantly shrug. “i’ll come up with something.”
“come up with what?”
to your surprise, a voice you haven’t heard in weeks echoes from the door.
“mom…?”
you’re stunned after only hearing yourself react to jungkook’s mother’s unexpected entrance. your head whips to his direction; your eyes wordlessly interrogating him.
“i need to go to work so i called her to watch over you.” he explains.
“why would you do that?” you argue with him as quietly as possible, lips barely moving as you try to hide your face from your mother-in-law. again, not one of your finest moments. “you didn’t have to. i can take care of myself.”
“but you don’t have to because you have us.”
jungkook marks the conversation finished with a kiss pressed to your temple, leaving you dumbfounded. he jumps off the bed and for a split second, you make eye-contact with his mother before he towered over her for a quick hug.
her kind smile is embroidered in your memory; a memory that wraps your heart in a type of warmth only a mother can provide.
“mom! i’m sorry. i really, really, really need to leave now. but! i’ll try to come back early so you can go home early too.”
“aigoo, stop stressing yourself out.”
jungkook receives a slap on the back, somehow more loving can scolding.
“i can stay the night so do what you need to do. you don’t have to worry.”
“it’s not only because i’m worried!”
she sassily puts a hand over her waist. it takes everything in you not to laugh out loud.
“then what else?”
“mom! what else?” he cheekily smiles. “of course i’ll miss ____ too much.”
did your boyfriend just…? to his mother? your jaw becomes slack from the shame.
“i missed ____ too!” she contests. “go to work and give us our alone time.”
you shyly smile when she transfers her attention from her son to you.
“hello, my baby. are you hungry?”
“does my son feed you well?”
“he does! but it’s funny- other mothers ask the opposite. are you feeding my son well? do you make sure he’s comfortable?”
you think out loud, transfixed on how she peels oranges with ease. your hands would always be stained by the juices, (and eyes red and teary from accidental splashes) (it’s too embarrassing to even think about) but hers are still magically clean.
“is that so?”
you graciously accept the slice she feeds you. she laughs when your face lights up like a christmas tree one more time. it’s way sweeter than you anticipated. you can’t get over how delicious it is.
“mhmm!”
perhaps you relied too much on dramas when it came to your expectations of what a relationship with your in-laws would look like. you imagined yourself running around like a dog trying to prove yourself worthy of their son, yet for some reason, it looks like they adore you for simply existing. it makes you feel extremely grateful, but you don’t understand.
“mom, i have a question… i know it’s probably too late to ask this now, but…”
“what could that be?”
“are you really not against me and jungkook living together?” you swallow your fear of the possibility of an unpleasant truth. “are you not… worried… that i’m receiving too much from him?”
because you would understand the apprehension. as a parent, one’s main concern would be their child. to outside eyes, it’s easy to come to the conclusion that jungkook is being taken advantage of and he’d be better off dating someone with the same status. sometimes you wish you were that someone too.
she utters your name sadly.
“he receives happiness and love from you. those are the most valuable things you could give to a person.”
she caresses your hair like she wants to erase the anxiety poisoning your mind.
“my dear, how come you’re worried about that until now? haven’t we told you? you’re part of the family. forget about my sister! i don’t welcome her negativity in our house!”
“living together is different. it’s a big deal. it normally happens in a relationship after…” the following words feel foreign in your mouth; they come out quieter than the rest of your sentence. “getting married.”
“then tell me. why did you agree to live with him?”
because you’re selfish. because you want more time that you can have him all to yourself. because you want to be accessible— the first person he runs to when he’s seeking comfort and stability. because you want goodnight and good morning kisses. because you were afraid of the risks but you’ve grown addicted to the thrill of love.
“he said… no matter how hard i push him away, he will stay within my reach.”
you hear your own shaky breathing. that moment— it’s still burned into your memory. you’re still holding on to it. it’s a promise he is yet to break and you pray that he never, ever does.
“i don’t want to push him away. i want to be within his reach too.”
you’re two people loving each other with everything within your means. after the endless pains and the deafening noise, you like to think that’s what makes this relationship worth fighting for.
“does my opinion still matter knowing that? will you let me stop you?”
“no, i won’t. i’d make you change your mind.”
if you had a machine connected to you, she would see how your heart rate has gone off the charts. but you’re known to say whatever’s on your mind and that, much to your dismay, isn’t switched off despite sitting infront of the woman who birthed and raised the love of your life.
you sniffle, pursing your lips nervously. “but i feel like there might be a right answer to that one.”
what you didn’t expect was her to laugh until her belly hurts; placing a hand over her mouth in an effort to calm herself down and keep grace.
“mom! stop, i’m so embarrassed!”
“no, ____, don’t get me wrong!”
she is teary-eyed as she gathers herself together.
“the more time i spend with you, the more i realize why jungkook loves you so much. i’ve seen him show incredible commitment twice. do you know that? first, when he went to seoul to become a singer. second, when he told us he got an apartment because he wants to be with you… of course, as his mother, i’ll admit that he’s young when he made those decisions, but he always proves to me that he’s smart and responsible.”
the urge to cry returns and strengthens as she speaks. you feel your eyelashes become damp with unshed tears. you don’t know how to act. you fiddle with your fingers. you stare at the strings and peels of the oranges you can still taste.
“i believe we both know jungkook’s personality well. he wouldn’t have let me stop him either. i’m happy to know that you’ll fight for him too.”
“thank you…”
“tsk, tsk, tsk- what is there to cry about? jungkook will get angry at me if he discovers that i made you cry.”
she wipes away your tears; however, the unmistakable scent of oranges that has clung to her hands and the affection in her tone bring forth a waterfall.
“seeing this makes me sadder.” she laments, referring to the stitches on your face.
“me too,” you babble in the midst of quiet sobs. “it makes me sad. it’s so ugly.”
you can’t remember the last time you felt this alone. perhaps it’s the effect of staying in an unfamiliar building of complete strangers. without your mobile phone, may you add. you managed to persuade jungkook’s mother to leave an hour ago because you didn’t want her to sleep on the uncomfortable couch.
the lights are turned off except for the lamp beside your bed, and with the television muted, you could hear a hairpin drop.
you’re alone and you can do whatever you want.
you dragged the visitor’s chair infront of the window to admire the garden like it’s a painting in motion. you watched people converse, stroll, and drink coffee. you watched them run for shelter when the clouds became too heavy and the sky began to fall. oh, so that’s why you couldn’t see the stars.
at this moment, there’s nothing left to amuse yourself with but the trembling of the leaves and the raindrops forming temporary rings when they fall in the water fountain.
your senses crave for more. you reach over and crack open the window, just enough to allow the sound of the rain and the scent of it permeating the earth to enter your room.
“this is kind of peaceful.” you whisper, amazed by the new lightness carried by your heart.
you close your eyes and you breathe in the petrichor deeply. you want nature in your lungs as a reminder that you’re alive. you welcome the cold wind kissing your face. you can feel your hair touching your neck. you always do, but for once, you’re choosing to acknowledge it. your thumb slowly brushes across the palm of your hand, perceiving the texture of your skin, the softness, and the lines. and your feet, they’re in the clouds, the fluffy slippers jungkook’s mother bought outside because she knows they’re your favorite to wear.
you’ve loved and despised this body for a million different reasons. your mind and heart have accepted defeat countless times, but your body wakes up to every brand new day without fail. your body implores you to live. did it finally give up on you today?
“baby!”
you look behind to search for the source of the sound.
you get your answer from the kiss planted on your lips.
you only saw his face for a split second, but even if you had your eyes closed, you’d know it has to be jungkook kissing you.
you can smell him. you’ve memorized the way the shape of his lips fits with yours.
oh, the sounds of his kisses too. you like to call them the butterfly call because they make butterflies appear in your stomach.
you could trace the scar on his cheek with your finger if you want to.
god, what a privilege it is to experience life in this vessel.
a knock on the door forces you to part too early. the same nurse from earlier enters and you internally scream all the curse words in your dictionary. jungkook acknowledges her with a bow and a quick ‘hello’ before squatting down infront of you.
“i committed another crime for you today.”
“huh?”
your wide, confused eyes take a glimpse at the nurse who is doing something with the controls of your iv line.
hahaha… she knows he’s not serious, right?
“what did you do?”
his smile is so big that his eyes have turned into little crescent moons. you’d make a guess but there is an infinite amount of things jungkook could possibly be this excited about.
…apparently, one of them would be strawberry cake.
you gape at the transparent box he was hiding behind his back all along.
“did you steal somebody’s birthday cake?!”
“it’s a producer’s birthday and he received lots of cakes, so he told me i can take one home.”
“how is it stealing if he allowed you to take it?”
he tosses his backpack on the couch as he sets down the box on the table. he rummages through the bag his mother left behind, successfully bringing out a spoon. meanwhile, you get your blood pressure taken again.
as he opens the box, he sends a smirk your way.
“no. i hid the strawberry cake because there’s so many who wanted to eat it.”
“are you crazy?!”
the nurse clicks her tongue. “don’t talk and stay still, please.”
“oh,” your hand flies to your mouth on instinct. “i’m sorry.”
“i’m sorry.” jungkook also apologizes.
you and your boyfriend secretly share a look, exchanging a smile that is stifled laughter inside. your lips remain zipped as the nurse restarts the process of taking your blood pressure. on the other hand, jungkook eats a spoonful of cake, teasingly wiggling his eyebrows at you. you roll your eyes and he tries harder to laugh without a sound.
seconds later, he grumbles about the room being too warm. he wipes the beads of sweat on his forehead using the back of his hand, and he does the worst thing he could possibly do at this moment. he reaches for his back, pulling his sweater over his head. naturally, his inner shirt rides up and allows wandering eyes a peak at his glorious toned abdomen.
passed out in the shower. busted your eyebrow open. front-row seat for a woman flirting and ogling at your boyfriend.
how fucking great.
“hello? i think it’s done.” you snap.
“a-ah, yes.”
you hear her swallow as she removes the cuff from your arm. she may be wearing a mask but she’s hot and red all the way to her ears. you’ve only read about it in books. you didn’t even believe this could happen in real life until now.
“i will check your temperature too.”
“go on.”
you repeat the same process from hours earlier, drumming your fingers on your thigh as you wait for the beep.
“yah, why is the window open? you’ll catch a cold.”
jungkook, yet again, steals the attention of every person in the room when he rises to his feet. his shadow casts over you as he closes the window.
“i wanted to smell the rain.”
“is the room getting too stuffy for you?”
you shrug. “i just wanted to smell the rain.”
you feel the nurse’s stare. you offer her a smile and her nameplate briefly gets caught by your vision. kang ji-woo.
“ji-woo; that’s a pretty name.” you pay her a sincere compliment. “it’s healing, don’t you think?”
“yes? uh-uhm, y-yes…” she replies, unsure and confused by the sudden small talk. “actually, it’s been linked to a reduction in stress and anxiety levels.”
“thank you! babe, did you hear that?”
“uhuh, think about my stress and anxiety levels.” he leans against the window with his arms crossed, raising an eyebrow at you.
so now he’s flexing his arm muscles. cool, cool, cool. you know he’s not doing it on purpose and his entire existence is just naturally hot and it’s infuriating.
“i’ve been worried sick about you all day.”
his statement makes you frown for a new reason. at the same moment, the thermometer beeps.
“could you please tell him that i’m fine?”
“37.3, uhhh- that’s slightly above normal. how do you feel? does your head hurt? are you cold?”
“i feel fine though?”
“okay. please take a lot of rest and stay warm…” her gaze lingers at jungkook who is blocking the window. “keep the window closed. hopefully it won’t be higher when i check again later.”
seriously?! you could cry. you want to go home where it’s comfortable. where it’s only you and jungkook and bam.
but you bet somebody would be happy if you had to stay longer.
“i’ll look after ____.” your boyfriend sighs, pulling out a jacket from his backpack.
“you shouldn’t have kissed me. what if you get sick?”
your blatantness causes the nurse to pause in updating your chart. she awkwardly clears her throat. “yeah… that… that isn’t currently advisable.”
“i’m sorry. i’ll control myself.”
you earn a glare from jungkook, then he fakes a smile which you gladly return.
“before you go, may i request for a new blanket? sorry, i spilled something earlier.”
“sure thing! i’ll come back with that right away.”
“she seemed happy to leave.” jungkook remarks. “i can’t tell if you were actually being nice or being passive aggressive.”
you smile innocently, taking a bite off the strawberry you stole from the top of the cake. “i’m a fucking angel.”
damn it, why is he suddenly turned on?
were you serious about the no kiss rule?
“would you rather i be the type to pull their hair?”
he shakes his head with a laugh. “but you did slap someone once.”
“you want to see me that furious again?”
“never in my wildest dreams.”
he kisses the top of your head, producing an exaggerated ‘mmmwah!’ sound that makes you giggle happily.
“here, have some more cake.”
he offers you a spoonful of cake.
no, it’s bigger.
as a matter of fact, the piece could probably pass off as a cupcake.
you gawk at it as if you’re figuring out the logistics of putting it in your mouth. his heart does a flip when you tilt your head and do your best to take in the whole thing. however, in the middle of it, you decide that you can’t, and you end up biting it off a little more than halfway.
oh my god, he loves you. he loves you. you’re so fucking cute.
your cheeks are full as you struggle to chew. you cover your mouth with your hand but they don’t touch. you’re so elegant in your ways and sometimes he wonders how you’re still attracted to him after he acts stupid.
also, plain white nails? that’s new. you always want colors.
“your nails look pretty.”
he is so focused on you that he fails to take notice of another presence occupying the room.
“your mom did them for me.”
“i figured. she wants to do mother-daughter things with you.”
the short break of silence speaks volumes. you look at him, blinking with eyes hinting at a type of joy you’re lost on how to express.
“did you choose white?”
“no. we were watching a drama and it was the couple’s wedding.”
oh, that makes total sense.
“let me guess,” he trails off with a half-embarrassed, half-entertained smile. “she asked when we will get married?”
“why would she ask me that? how would i know?” you scoff.
his heart starts at a thousand miles per hour. fuck, are you hinting at him? are you messing with his feelings again? with you, he always needs to remind himself to be rational.
“i need more time to prove to you that i’m husband material.”
“what? stop it. i don’t care. i don’t need a ring.”
your unpredictableness pushes him to the edge of his seat.
“don’t pressure yourself. you already treat me way better than most husbands do their wives.”
the pride painted on your face is unmistakable. he feels his heart swelling in his chest. has he been doing a better job than he originally thought? after what happened today, he was terrified that he hasn’t been paying enough attention to you.
“i’m so happy with what we have.”
you offer him a delicate smile before eating the rest of the cake that was left on the spoon. he swears there’s a glowing halo above your head.
could your temperature have magically dropped in the past five minutes? would you kill him if he kissed you right now?
“is there anything else i could assist you with?”
and then he is rudely snapped out of his hopeless adoration and daydreaming.
“that’s all! thank you for your hard work!” you chirp.
he turns to the nurse with a lovesick grin.
“please come to our wedding.”
the unforeseen wedding invitation earns him a slap on the chest. he clutches the affected area, wincing in pain.
he hears you mutter. “don’t invite strangers to our wedding.”
the irritated glare he predicted to face isn’t there. rather, you’re wearing the flustered smile he only sees when he knows that he did something to make you fall for him all over again.
before ji-woo left, she tried to subtly reject the invitation by jokingly saying that she’d die to go, but most probably, she’d have to work that day. you know… being an overworked hospital employee and all. you caught her glancing at you with bitterness failed to be guised as indifference. you get it. you’d hate it if another person was in your place. frankly speaking, you could be miles pettier.
your boyfriend wipes the corner of your lips, thoughtless as he licks off the cake frosting from his thumb.
damn it, you wish she was also here for that.
“you haven’t stopped smiling.”
“you love me and you never let me forget that.”
you give an answer despite the lack of a question mark.
you just made his world stop spinning on its axis and you’re not even aware.
jungkook knows the heavenly feeling of knowing that he is loved, but he has never deeply considered the joy and relief when the person he loves believes that he loves them.
“i’m so lucky. i love you.”
you push yourself up to plant a kiss on his forehead. it’s a rarity he treasures and keeps.
“i love you too.”
he cries infront of you.
almost.
he excuses himself to the bathroom and cries in there a little.
you’re so easy to love— that’s why it makes him want to do difficult things for you. like commit more crimes?
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daycourtofficial · 1 day
Text
Deceptive Domestication
Pairing: Azriel x reader | WC: 7.7k | Warnings: sexism, misogyny
Summary: The two of you have to pretend to be a married couple for a mission. Can you live with this false reality? Or will your feelings for Azriel eat you alive when it’s over?
Author’s note: started making it, had a breakdown, bon apetit
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“Angel, where are you?”
Azriel’s deep voice moves on the wind, finding you at the back of your cottage. You twist the new ring adorning your fourth finger, the skin beneath it showing no tan lines, “I’m back here, just one second!”
Azriel laughs, his voice sweet and full of honey, “the wife’s an avid gardener. When we were first considering moving here, she insisted we check the soil to make sure she would be able to have her prized blackberries.”
You appear from the side of the house, wiping your hands on the apron around your dress. Azriel’s arm reaches around you, clasping you on your shoulder as you get next to him. 
“He’s right, I love my blackberries greatly,” you say, reaching out to shake hands with your new neighbors. They lived in the house closest to yours, a red thatched roof adorning the black building. Delicious smells came from it, and judging by the smoke from the chimney, they were likely preparing dinner when they saw you two.
“We just wanted to come by and meet the two of you, we saw you come in last night and wanted to introduce ourselves. I’m Arben,” the male points to himself, “and this is my wife, Alija.”
You nod to both of them - they looked to be a good bit older than you and Azriel, wrinkles adorning their tanned faces. “Thank you, this used to be my Uncle Sal’s home. Since he passed away recently, he left the home to us and we wanted to leave our home village.”
“I’m so sorry about Sal, sweetheart,” he says, a sympathetic look in his eye, “he was a nice male, talked about you all of the time. Alija has to finish dinner, but we’ll see the two of you around, yeah?”
You press your lips into a firm smile, nodding before pressing into Azriel’s side and turning back to the house. His arm on your back guides you to the door of your new home, his touch a familiar warmth amidst all of the new. Once you cross the threshold, shutting the door behind yourselves, Azriel’s hand falls from your back and he immediately puts distance between you two, walking towards the bedroom he was staying in. His smile drops, the air in the room frigid. Rhys’s words clang through you, a shock to your senses.
Go to this village as a married couple. I’m unsure how long it will take.
You jolted as Azriel slammed the door behind him. Sighing, you move to your own room, taking in the bags left to unpack. You had taken great care to pack enough to last you as the season changes. The two of you were here indefinitely, marooned in a quaint village of about forty-three people.
Move in, become friends with the neighbors, find out what you can.
There was a circle of villages in the western part of the Night Court where females kept disappearing - six had gone missing in the last month. The villagers were not speaking to outsiders, but Rhysand thought a long term mission might allow the spies to get close enough to get some questions answered.
So he decided on you and Azriel.
Fan-fucking-tastic.
It had been strange seeing Azriel play this version of a spy, even if it had only been a day. You were so used to him lurking in the shadows, it felt so strange to watch him play the part of a doting husband, and to do it well. Introducing you to the neighbors and random villagers, a hand kept on your skin at all times - on your lower back, your waist, your shoulders. It was so easy to get swept up in the illusion you two were selling - even you were convinced you were newlyweds, moving for a fresh start.
Until he slammed his door, reminding you it was all fake, a farse for information.
Things between you and Azriel have always been easy. You two were the best of friends, most of your free time being spent with him since joining the Inner Circle two years ago. The two of you spent countless nights sitting together when sleep wouldn’t find you, you two had even developed a code - open bedroom doors at night were a silent invitation for the other to come in, spending most nights in each other’s rooms, wrapped up in sheets that smelled of the two of you.
All of that ended very suddenly a few months ago. Suddenly his door was always closed to you, your own cracked every night. A call to him, begging him to acknowledge you.
You started keeping your door closed a month ago. It didn’t feel right, shutting him out, but clearly you had done something wrong. Your entrance into a room would cause him to leave immediately, changes in his training schedule to avoid you, abruptly turning around when he saw you.
It was all pissing you off.
The rest of the Inner Circle were just as clueless as you were as to what happened to cause Azriel’s sudden distance. Cassian tried to interfere - making plans with both of you for dinner at a restaurant and ditching, trying to force you two to spend time together.
Azriel just left once he caught sight of you.
That was your tipping point. You stopped going to training, you pulled back from family dinners. They were his family first, and you wanted to give him whatever space he needed. Everyone protested, telling you it was his problem, and in Cassian’s words “if he’s going to be a jackass, I don’t want him around anyway.”
Still, you retreated, hardly seeing much of the family you had forged over the past few years. No matter how much it hurts you to do so.
Once you began accepting this new Azriel-less reality, Rhys had called you into his office. The high lord looked almost conflicted, your entire family aware that something weird was happening between you and Azriel. None of them dared to ask Azriel, his darkened mood making it incredibly easy to anger him, and anytime they asked you they were met with a shrug and a soft, “I don’t know.”
All of them had been scratching their heads, desperate for an explanation for the sudden iciness between you two. It had been weeks of this, and everyone missed seeing the two of you exchanging whispers in the corner or watching Azriel’s shadows wind through your hair.
Which was why Rhysand decided to insert himself into the situation. He called you into his office, and after asking you to take a seat, he began asking after your week. Your eyebrows knitted, confused about the formality of it all, when you realized you haven’t actually seen Rhysand in almost a month. 
You had taken up residence in the House of Wind - since you were a scholar it lended easy access to your work, and whenever you wanted to leave, you asked Azriel to ferry you around. You tried to remember the last time you saw anyone in the inner circle that wasn't Cassian or Nesta, and it was when Cassian offered to fly you into town to get lunch with Feyre three weeks ago.
You’re not certain how to tell Rhysand the past few weeks had been filled with silence, whatever happened between you and the shadowsinger led you to avoid Cassian and Nesta, avoid training, avoid anything that wasn’t being buried in your work in the library.
You look into violet eyes, and you check your mental shields because he’s looking at you as if he already knows how sad this whole situation has made you.
You take a deep breath, shrugging. “Time is passing, I suppose.”
Rhys’s face falls a bit at just how dejected you sounded. It wasn’t supposed to be like this - they all knew there was something between you and Azriel, they all saw how you two gravitated towards each other. Neither of you would open up about whatever it was that shifted things so quickly and easily and it was pissing all of them off.
“I need your help with something.”
It was the best plan they could come up with to try to salvage things.
-
You woke up early the next morning, determined to tend to the garden before the sun reached its peak in the sky. You had plans later in the afternoon to meet with a few of the women of the village, but you had to get to working on this garden. There was no time table on this mission, and the two of you only had food stores to last you a few months.
If you were to be stuck in this purgatory that long, you needed new food to replenish whatever you use.
Your story to tell the villagers was that the two of you were quite young from the other end of Illyria. The two of you were extraordinarily lucky that one of the older fae males in this village happened to pass away a few weeks ago, allowing the two of you an easy in. You merely reviewed some family records, and were posing as his beloved niece, here to lead a new life with her husband.
You tended to the garden behind the house - the weeds had grown wildly in the previous owner’s absence. Your ‘uncle's absence, that is.
You spent all morning pulling weeds, making quite an improvement to the garden before you decided to go in and make yourself lunch. You came in, rinsing the dirt from your fingers, the water feeling nice against some of the minor cuts you acquired outside. After drying off, you pulled out a loaf of bread, slicing the bread to prepare some sandwiches. 
You hummed to yourself, trying to fill the silence of the house. It wasn’t large - a quaint two bedroom house with two bathrooms, a nice little kitchen, and a sitting room. You were a bit surprised at how well the interior of the house had been maintained by your ‘uncle’. 
Azriel was headed with the rest of the males to the war camp, spending his day training as a lesser ranked Illyrian. He was glamoured to look enough not like himself to the other Illyrians that they wouldn’t think anything of him. You had also glamoured some of Azriel’s siphons, only allowing one on his chest to remain. He was not happy about it, not wanting to seem so much weaker than he truly was. He wouldn’t listen to any of your points about it, but Rhys eventually convinced him to allow your glamour to cover six of his siphons because “it’s quite obvious who you are”.
Azriel’s refusal to listen to even your opinions on the mission was grating. You wanted to get to know the local females, and Rhys agreed with you, but Azriel kept arguing that ‘it wasn’t safe’.
Stupid Illyrians and their stupid pigheadedness, you suppose. If you’re not supposed to speak with the other females, why were you even here?
You knew this mission would be difficult for Azriel - his hatred for his own people fueling centuries of anger and resentment. You thought being trapped here was an appropriate punishment for how he had iced you out of his life.
You had just finished making your sandwich when there was a knock at the door. You brushed your hands down your dress, glamouring wings back to life behind you, breathing deeply before you answered the door.
An Illyrian woman stood in your doorway, her dark curls slightly hiding her tanned face that was turned down. She was taller and broader than you, but still small for an Illyrian. Her demeanor told you they treated her that way as well. Her wings were tucked in tight behind her and her shoulders shook lightly before you.
Her voice was weak as she told you, “we go every day, bringing lunch to the males, if you wish to accompany us.”
Wish.
You knew the reality of coming here - you knew they would give a few days of grace to settle in, set up your garden, bereave your uncle before they assigned you to a chore rotation. In communities like this one, everyone had to pull their weight.
It was just astonishing how ‘pulling your own weight’ made the females seem two to three times heavier than the males.
You nod your head to the female, closing the door behind you as you meet her outside. You had no idea where the war camp was, knowing it mustn’t be too far from the village. You vaguely remember Azriel and Rhys discussing the three villages that filtered into the camp, how all three were short walks from the villages.
Dirt crunches beneath your boots as you walk alongside the female, her deep brown eyes downcast towards the ground, shoulders hunched to make herself as small as possible as you walk. “What’s your name?” You ask, your voice causing her to flinch. Her eyes were wide as they looked at you, shock at being addressed you presumed. It was astonishing how awfully they must treat her, because her face resembled a wounded dog’s.
“Kaltrina.” Her words are mumbled, and you have to strain your ears a little to hear her. 
“Kaltrina - it’s nice to meet you. Um, are you married?”
Not your usual first question, but around these parts marriage was as good as social standing. Also any unwed women over the age of 24 were considered ‘unwanted’ or ‘untameable’. This village was harsh on women - even by Illyrian standards. The males of this village made Devlon look forward and free-thinking.
“No, not married. I live with my brother, Dardan.”
Her tone didn’t suggest anything about him, but you weren’t sure exactly what it meant. She offers you a smile and a soft nod, “is your husband nice?”
You offer the same soft nod before you hear her say, “he’s quite good looking, too.”
You pause, trying to remember everything Cassian and Rhysand had told you about Illyrians to prepare for this - they told you males were incredibly territorial, treating their wives more like trophies and laborers rather than spouses. A male would take this as a compliment - one mention of a good-looking wife would be something to boast about, mentioning it more than once would be an offense.
But how did the females treat their husbands, how did they speak to each other about them? It was the biggest gap in your knowledge, but you suppose you can explain away any discrepancies on how far away the two of you came from.
“Yes, he’s quite pretty.”
She giggles at your words, and you feel a swell of pride at getting it right. She walks next to you, standing a little straighter for the rest of the walk.
The two of you made it to the war camp, joining the other females to distribute food to the males. The males look at you like you’re not much more than a piece of meat or some dirt on their boots, but your eyes scanned the crowd for Azriel, not finding him the entire time you’re there.
You do get a chance to speak with a few of the females as you all head back to the village, carrying leftover food with you. Most of them seem to welcome you - suggesting what crops grow best in the area, telling you to reach out if you need any help with anything.
The other females head off at the fork in the road, telling you and Kaltrina they would see you the next day. You breathe deeply, looking to Kaltrina once more. She hardly spoke once the two of you had met up with the other females at the war camp, keeping her distance from them the entire time.
“How’s your brother?” You ask, the innocent question causing Kaltrina to flinch. 
“He’s a fine male.”
Her answer feels so dry, so rehearsed. You don’t press the issue, changing topics instead. “How will you spend the rest of the afternoon?”
“Chores.”
You listen to the birds singing around the both of you, their song a beautiful melody across the skies. You eventually pass a house similar to your own, but a bit smaller, the roof not well cared for. Kaltrina gives you a small wave before turning down the path to her house, disappearing behind the door. 
You kept walking towards your own house, but you did see her appear in the window briefly, watching you walk down the road. It made the hairs on your neck stand up, but you quickly looked forward again, making your way back to the house, determined to finish unpacking this afternoon.
-
You had finished unpacking by the time you heard the door open, Azriel traipsing through the house. 
“Hello my loving husb-“
Your sarcastic words die as you turn to see his face, a cut on his lip and a black eye. He shakes his head, trying to tell you it’s nothing, and he starts moving to just head to his room, but you’re not having it.
“We have some bandages in the bathroom.” Your words don’t have a command in them, but he heads towards the bathroom. You pick up a bottle of alcohol, dabbing some on a rag. You motion for him to sit on the edge of the tub, and he goes.
You’re a few inches from his face, the closest you’ve been in months. His scent was so comforting, you just wanted to wrap yourself in it and stay for a while. He stays silent, his face a blank slate you could slap any emotion to. 
His shadows have been having fun whizzing around the house. He had told them they had to stay completely hidden if they were to come to the war camp with him, otherwise they had to stay in the house or go off wherever they wanted. They didn’t like the options, but most of them stayed with him, tucked into his boots, his pants, the hilt of his sword. Now that he was back, they scattered across the house, energetic wisps of darkness moving through the house, through your hair, against your skin.
“What happened?”
He huffed, his fingers dancing on his thighs in irritation. “I’m a new male, they’re just seeing if I can take it.”
You nod, and from the irritation in his voice, you know he’s shutting you back out. You hold the alcohol covered rag up to his lip, cleaning the blood from his face. He had healed a good bit since he received the beating, and you notice his knuckles are bloody. 
Hopefully he put up a good enough fight. 
“I went with some of the women to the war camp to distribute food.”
His eyes snap to yours, his wings rustling behind him. His eyes were dark, a look to them you’ve never seen directed at you. He reaches his hand up to your wrist, his grip tight but not uncomfortable.
“Why the fuck would you do that?”
You’re taken aback by his tone - even if your relationship was tenuous, he never took such an aggressive tone with you. In all your years of friendship, the most strain in his voice you had heard directed at you was when you were free climbing up the cabinets of the kitchen to get to the top shelf for some cookies.
“Because Rhys thinks-”
“I don’t give a damn what Rhys thinks when it comes to you, I said it was a bad idea and to stay away from them.”
“They’re battered females, Azriel! The males treat them like dirt! And their friends and sisters and mothers have gone missing. I can help them, I know I can - that’s why we’re here!”
His hand tensed around you before he pulled his hand away from you. He looks away from you, his harsh breathing echoing through the small bathroom.
“You’ll only get yourself hurt by talking to them.”
He snatched the rag from your hand, pushing past you out the bathroom and into his room, slamming the door on your once again. You want to scream or stomp your feet at how ridiculous he was being.
“I’m not a kid you can boss around, Azriel.”
His silence didn’t make you so certain about that.
-
The next week goes by much like your first full day in the village - you wake up after Azriel’s gone, tend to the house (your ‘uncle’ left it in semi-decent shape, but it did need a few repairs), head with Kaltrina to the war camp to feed the males (where you were even able to meet Kaltrina’s brother and several of the female’s husbands), and spend your afternoon preparing dinner for the two of you.
You’re not on speaking terms with Azriel after his outburst while you cleaned him up - every day he’s returned with some minor cut and scrape, and all you do is point to the alcohol and provide him with fresh rags. You won’t clean him up yourself, you’re too pissed at him for that, but you still urge him to do it himself
You still care, despite it all. 
Despite the ice between you and Azriel, the females of the village began opening up to you, accepting you as one of their own. You join them every day to serve lunches to the males, and several of them even invited you to their homes to help teach you how to cook with the regional vegetables. 
“Your husband’s too skinny,” one said, “I’ll teach you how to cook.”
You weren’t sure if it was a compliment or an insult, but you took it for what it was - an offering. You spent the afternoon with her, learning how to smoke pig ‘the correct way’. She had told you her name was Bora, she and her husband have lived in this village for several centuries, and she has had many, many smoked pigs.
“None compare to my family recipe.”
She was quite intimidating, and you could tell she took shit from no one, not even her husband. You were touched that she would share her family recipe with you so readily, thinking perhaps she took a special interest in you until another female stopped by and, after telling her Bora was teaching you her family recipe, she told you, “it’s how she inaugurates new females to the village’.
You were less touched and your ego deflated a bit, but you were still grateful she would spend so much time with you. The afternoon flew by, time not registering as you helped Bora peel her vegetables while the pork cooked. 
You looked up, noting the dark sky through the window, dropping the zucchini. “Oh no,” you mutter, running out of the house to the road, eyes wide to find Azriel running up the road, blades drawn. His siphon was glowing in the dark, it’s cobalt blue blazing with intensity.
He was frantic, and you could have sworn you saw his shadows frantically zipping around him, moving in and out of houses. His body visibly relaxes as he spots you, rushing towards you. His arms wrap around you, crushing you into an embrace. His breathing is ragged, “I thought- I thought- you-”
His words come out choppy, but he pulls back, his hands on your face. He’s breathing hard, trying to string words together. He swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing with the movement.
“Is everything alright?”
Bora’s voice startles Az, and one of his shadows whips into a defensive position before you shoo it away. He quickly collects himself, moving one of his hands to the back of your head, pulling you to his chest.
“Sorry, I got worried when I got home and my wife wasn’t there.”
He pats your hair, his hands combing through them softly. “Just need her to be safe, s’all.”
Bora nods, perhaps more understanding than she should be of Azriel’s concern. “Ah, to be newly married again. She was safe,” she turns away before adding, “she’s always safe here with Bora.” 
The older female waddles back inside for a moment before coming back out to the two of you, the tray of pork and vegetables on it. “Here’s dinner tonight - Bora’s family recipe.” She winks at you, and the two of you politely thank her before heading back to your house. You carried the tray, but Azriel kept both of his hands on you the entire walk back.
The walk back is mostly quiet, Azriel’s heartbeat slowing as the adrenaline leaves his body. You swivel your head around, noticing no one out in the village at this hour.
“Why were you being so nice and touchy to me out there and anytime we see the neighbors?” Your words come out barely more than a whisper, but you knew he heard them. “The men in this village hardly view their wives as more than livestock, it might be more suspicious for you to be so nice to me.”
He turned, just enough for you to see the side of his face, to watch his mouth as he said, “I could never do that to you.”
You spent the rest of the walk in silence, spending the entire time dissecting the way he said “you”.
-
Your house with Azriel is still quiet, the two of you living separate lives behind the oak door. Sleeping apart, eating dinner in different rooms. You two only spoke when you were outside of the house. 
A few days after cooking with Bora, you and Kaltrina were headed back to the village from the camps for lunch when she offered to help you make dinner. 
“I want to say thanks, for being my friend.”
Her words make you feel terrible over how strange you had found her. Maybe she was just awkward. You weren’t sure, but you knew you’d be safe inside your own home, so you agreed to let her stay. 
The two of you prepare dinner, Kaltrina seeming a bit nervous as she skitters about your kitchen. You make idle small talk, but the air in the room seems so off you can’t put your finger on it.
“What will your brother be doing for dinner tonight?” 
She looks a bit downcast as she tells you, “he has plans tonight, he’s eating at his friend’s house.”
Her tone tells you not to ask anymore, and you don’t press the issue any further. 
The two of you eat in silence, Kaltrina’s eyes moving around your house, taking in every detail. She excuses herself to the bathroom, and you show her where it is. 
In Kaltrina’s absence, Azriel makes his way through the front door, his shadows beginning to spread throughout the house in contentment. You quickly shake your head at the tiny wisps that come to you, sending them back to Azriel. You point towards the bathroom, jerking your head at the noises from behind the door trying to tell him someone was here.
The water runs, and Azriel quickly moves across the room, his arms circling your waist. Your eyebrows pinch, but you quickly relax them as Kaltrina leaves the bathroom. Her steps halt at seeing Azriel, her eyes wide at his sudden appearance.
“Kaltrina, this is my husband. Valon, this is my friend, Kaltrina.”
He nods to her before squeezing your waist and giving a swift kiss to your temple. Kaltrina’s eyes linger on the display of affection, not breaking contact even moments later. Azriel rubs your back, eyes fond as he looks to you, “I’m going to head to bed, take your time with your friend, but don’t leave me waiting too long.”
Was that a signal? You two slept in separate rooms - what did his words mean? You lean up, kissing his cheek before rubbing at his jaw and nodding. He turns his attention towards Kaltrina, “it was nice meeting you Kaltrina, my wife is quite fond of you. Have a good night.”
Her mouth is slightly ajar, her cheeks a harsh shade of red as she squeaks, “good night.”
Azriel nods at her and he slips into your bedroom, a sight that doesn’t go unnoticed by you. You turn back to Kaltrina, her eyes lingering on the door to your bedroom, and you could almost feel the yearning radiating from her. 
“Come on, we should clean up a bit.” The two of you head into the kitchen, cleaning and scraping the dirty dishes from earlier. You two work in silence, the only sounds in the room are the scrubbing of pots.
“Your husband seems quite nice.”
Her voice is full of want and yearning. You stop cleaning pots before you, Kaltrina’s eyes fixed on you until you look. She turns her eyes away, looking back to the pots.
“Yes, he is very kind.”
“He’s unlike any of the males around here.”
This conversation felt a bit dangerous. Azriel said it was fine, that he couldn’t treat you the way any of these males treat their wives - like servants, like cattle, like nothing. But you knew the females of the village would notice how he treated you, if they haven’t already. You start to wonder if they had noticed, discussing the odd outsiders, figuring the two of you out, getting you-
“He’s very good-looking.”
Kaltrina’s voice startles you, and you look to find her not even looking at you, gazing off to some point on the wall. Had she meant to say that out loud? The two of you finish up cleaning, although it is mostly you doing the work, Kaltrina’s gaze is lost somewhere on your kitchen wall. You quickly escort her out, wishing her a good night. You offer to walk her home, but she declines, saying she’ll be fine on her own. 
You close the door behind her, taking a deep breath. Azriel was in your room - your room - the one with the unmade bed, clothes haphazard around the space. You two used to frequent each other’s private chambers, but now you can’t recall the last time he laid in your bed, perused the books on your shelves, or sat in the chair in the corner of your room at the House of Wind.
You push open the door to find him pacing in front of your bed, his shadows lounging lazily on your bed. You nod to him, picking at your fingernails.
“I think it’s Kaltrina. I think she’s the one doing this.”
“Kaltrina?” His voice is full of surprise and misunderstanding. “You think Kaltrina, that little thing is behind all of this?”
“Yes! I just.. Don’t know why.. The way she talks about you…”
“We can’t go off of silly little feelings when convicting someone of a crime, you know.” He stands in front of you, his wings blocking the light from the candles, casting shadows across his face.
“I’m well aware-”
“You have to think - where would she keep them? How could she overpower so many Illyrian women? And besides, why does it matter what she thinks of me?”
Your anger was bubbling to the surface, his condescending tone leading you to yell out, “what the fuck is your problem, Azriel?”
He looks at you, turning away quickly while muttering, “we are not doing this here.” His shadows are ever so slightly trying to push him back towards you, but he ignores their attempts, plowing through them to your kitchen.
“No, I think we are doing this right here, right now. I’ve let too much shit go by and I can’t keep acting like everything’s okay anymore.” You take in a shaky breath. “I’m tired of pretending. Just tell me whatever it was that I did that made you hate me and we can move on!”
“No.”
His curt reply annoys you even more, and you’re directly in front of him poking his chest.
“Just tell me what I did!”
“You didn’t do anything.”
“That’s clearly not the case.”
He groans in frustration, running a hand down his face, but you are unrelenting in your pursuit for the truth.
“We were friends, you used to like spending time with me. I don’t know what happened that made you hate me-”
“I don’t hate you.”
You laugh, “well you could have fooled me. For months everyone’s been asking me what happened between us, and I have no clue! It’s like you woke up one day and decided we couldn’t be friends anymore!”
“That’s not what happened-”
“Oh, it’s not? So you were pretending to be my friend while you secretly hated me before cutting me off one day?”
“I HAD TO.”
His eyes were wide with an almost feral-like look to them. He looked almost more beast than fae.
“I had to. Those fae that were trafficking females and males, they… “ His hand shakes as he curls and uncurls it, his scarred fingers twitching with the motion. “One of my spies found your name in one of their notebooks, reported it to me immediately.”
His ferocity is turned on you, hazel eyes looking into your own, as if he was searching through your soul. “Don’t you get it? They know you, they know who you are.” His voice raised an octave, squeaking, “because of me.”
“So, what? Because someone knew that I was important to you, you cut me off?”
“No it wasn’t-“
“Oh, no, was it that someone pointed out to you that I was important to you and you didn’t like that?” Your voice was raising, getting louder, but you couldn’t care. 
“That’s not-“
“I’m a big girl, Az, I deserve to know everything before making decisions. I don’t deserve my decisions to be taken from me.”
“Will you let me speak?”
His shadows were covering the windows, the doors, the walls. His chest was heaving as he tried to get the words out, tried to make you see.
“I couldn’t let anything happen to you.”
“So instead of explaining this to me, you cut me off like I meant nothing to you? Why couldn’t you just tell me that? Why couldn’t you tell me-”
“You would talk me out of it! Convince me it was in my head. I needed you to be safe, for cauldron’s sake!”
You sniffle, eyes catching on the door. “I have a lot to think about,” is all you say before storming out, closing the door behind you. You walk from the house, your boots sinking into the grass at your feet as you walk aimlessly around the village. Your thoughts whirled and swirled of Azriel’s words, your hands pulling at your hair in frustration.
“Hey, there.”
You whip around, fist raised, to find Dardan looking back at you. You quickly drop your fist - he could still tell the others you showed defiance towards him and you’d be in a lot of trouble. 
“Oh, hey, Dardan, right? I must not have heard you. How are you tonight?”
You try to make your voice sound as pleasant as possible, as feminine as possible. 
“Just taking an afternoon stroll,” he muses, “care to join me?”
You look around, noticing you’re much further from the village than you intended. Even though you were a married female to the rest of the village, it was still disrespectful towards your husband to be seen on the outskirts of town with an unmarried male. 
“Um,” you start turning around, your gut trying to tell you this was wrong, wrong, wrong. “Actually, I should get back to my husband. I need to start working on dinner soon.”
You turned your head just in time for something hard and metal to make contact with it, the last thing in your vision was the ground before complete darkness.
-
Your head was killing you, your neck at an unnatural angle as you opened your eyes. The room was dark, but still too bright for the pounding of your head. You take a deep breath, trying to note your surroundings. 
Your hands were bound behind you, some fabric you should be able to easily pull apart. You were on the ground, some dirt beneath your body as you laid on the cold ground. You began tugging on the fabric, trying to maneuver your hands to slip through the knot.
“Tug all you want, we got a talented witch in these parts.”
Your body goes cold at the voice.
Dardan.
Fuck.
You want to slam your head on something, but there’s nothing. Your breathing speeds up, your mind moving through all your interactions with Dardan.
You thought he was nice. He had been amicable to you at the war camp, you barely even thought of him during this mission. You thought it was Kaltrina. How could you have gotten things so wrong? 
He smiles as he watches your brain try to figure things out. His smugness was a new look for Lee - one that made him look very unattractive. “We knew one of Rhysand’s dogs was bound to show up at some point, just didn’t think they’d bring a pretty bitch like you with ‘em. Color me surprised when my little sister brought you around.”
You snap at his words, “bitches bite.”
He goes by to sharpen whatever knife he was wielding before replying. “We got big plans.”
Dardan wouldn’t say more than that, continuing to sharpen his blade before inspecting it. Once it was to his satisfaction, he grabbed you by the hair, yanking you from the ground. You scramble, trying to get your feet on the ground, kicking at the dirt he was dragging you across to gain some footing. His pull on your hair was unrelenting, even as your arms flailed back trying to hit him.
Eventually you’re able to get your feet beneath you, trying to keep up with his steps. He opens the doors to the structure you were kept in, the light of dusk surprising you. There was no way to tell time in that barn.
“It’s almost sunset, girl.”
You have no idea what he’s talking about, trying to take a big inhale so you can scream. The sound was piercing - a loud screech coming from you. Dardan just laughed. “Screech all you want, no one’s around for miles.”
Rhys’s words echo in your mind.
Stay close to Azriel.
A warning you had forgotten when you stormed off. Dardan’s tight grip brings you towards a clearing full of other Illyrians from the village you had been staying in and several of the nearby villages. You’re about to call, to beg them for help, when you notice six of the males are each dragging a female in some way towards the center of the clearing. You can’t see over the wings and heads in front of you, but the crowd parts for your eyes to land on a stone altar with ancient languages carved into it.
The crowd gave enough space for the six Illyrians to stand in a circle around the altar, each one cradling a woman by their neck with a blade pressed to it. You start fighting back against Dardan, trying to scratch him, hit him, but he throws you towards the altar where two winged males stand, catching you in their arms easily. You throw out your hand, making contact with one of their jaws, a soft “bitch” hissed at you. 
You throw your bound hands into the other one’s gut, but the first one grabs your elbow, twisting harshly. You struggle in the hold, winding your head back to headbutt him, but the other one grabs your head, holding it in place. You start kicking your legs out, hoping for any kind of contact, but a male from the crowd comes up and catches your ankles. 
The three males hold onto you, moving you on top of the altar. Your movements do nothing to stop them as they clamp down your feet, moving towards your hands, shackling them to the altar as well. Your pleas to be let go fell on deaf ears.
You turn your head to the left, two of the females coming into your view. Their wings twitched as their captors held them, not much fight in them. You yell to them, begging for them to fight back against the males at their backs. Tears stream down the side of your face, leaking into your ears as you watch their complacency, what they’ve been conditioned for. 
Nausea rolled in your stomach at the idea of how long they’ve been aware of this fate. These girls have been missing for weeks and months of their lives, kept Mother knows where to beat them into compliance. 
They stood at attention, knives to their throats, unmoving. 
Your eyes water seeing Kaltrina amongst them, her eyes downcast.
It was sickening.
Dardan comes from the crowd, looking down at you over the crook of his nose. He raises a knife to your throat, your skin nicking on the blade as your breathing quickened. 
“Any last words?”
You look up at Dardan, mustering every ounce of defiance onto your face as you pull back, spitting into his smug face. His face falls for a moment before wiping the saliva off. Dardan looks towards the sky, “just a moment until sundown. If only your pretty little shadowsinger could be here now, to watch you become the ultimate sacrifice.”
Breathing gets harder as the seconds tick by, knowing the sun will set at any second. You felt a cool breeze blow over you. 
Not a breeze.
A shadow.
“Get your fucking hands off of my mate.”
Your heart stops in your chest, something sparking deep within you at Azriel’s growl of warning in a tone you’ve never heard from him before. Dardan’s knife is still pressed to your neck, but you’re able to move your eyes enough to see wisps of shadow pulling the knives away from the necks of the other females in the circle. 
You tilt your head back, barely able to make out Azriel standing behind Dardan, his shadows angrily darting all around him. Several more of them make their way to you, almost cloaking you in the scent of their master.
Dardan’s arrogance doesn’t balk at the sight of Azriel, his grip on the knife tightening. 
“You can drop the ‘mate’ act, freak,” Dardan spat out, his words causing the shadows to whirl in agitation. “We need her-”
In a flash the shadows coating you slithered up your torso, slithering around the wrist that held the blade. They pulled the wrist away, the knife narrowly avoiding slicing your throat. At the same time, Azriel moved for Dardan, his fist connecting with Dardan’s jaw causing a crack across the clearing. Dardan hit the ground, but Azriel dove after him, landing punch after punch.
In the chaos of the fight breaking out, the crowd was in hysterics, all of the males attempting to fly or flee, pools of shadows surfaced at their feet, tripping them up, their bodies slowly disappearing into the darkness. Some of them tried to crawl from the darkness, but to no avail. The crowd quickly went from about 30 males to just the six females left, all unharmed, huddling together for some form of protection.
Azriel was choking Dardan out, scarred fingers forcing the breath from Dardan’s lungs. “I will enjoy taking my time with you.” Azriel’s words hung in the air as Dardan slowly slipped into the shadows underneath him, but Azriel remained on the grass. He quickly got to this feet, most of his shadows gone, likely to keep the Illyrian prisoners in check.
He stumbles over to you, quickly undoing your binds before wrapping you in his arms, pulling you from the altar.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” are all he says, his words repeating as you feel tears fall onto your shirt. You gripped him just as tightly, finding it easier to breathe in his presence for the first time in ages. 
“I can’t live in fear anymore.”
He lunged for you, capturing your lips in a kiss. It’s rushed, full of fear and trepidation. 
But by the cauldron was it warm and full of life. 
He pulled back, wiping spit from his mouth, his fingers covered in blood pushing the hair out of your face. “When I heard that your name was on one of those books, the bond snapped for me. I flew in a rage, killing all those traffickers. But I knew there were more like them out there.”
His eyes were full of regret, “I should have told you, but I thought you’d be safer not knowing. Then I figured this mission was my last time to actually have you, to play pretend.”
You laugh at the ridiculousness of it, pulling him in closer to you. You bury your face in his neck, inhaling that deep smell of cedar that you adored more than anything. It felt like coming home.
“I’m still pissed at you for not telling me.”
He chuckles, a deep, warm sound you haven’t truly heard in ages, “can I make it up to you? I won’t keep secrets from you ever again.”
He holds your face in his hands, his own eyes wet with tears. One of his hands pulls away, his tan skin radiant in the moonlight. You bring up your hand, interlocking your fingers with his. You keep your eyes on his, “no more secrets. From either of us.”
He nods, a bargain tattoo beginning to snake its way on your skin. 
“No more running.”
The tattoo wove its way on your skin, dark tendrils solidifying where your forearms meet. When you pull your hand away, the tattoo is incomplete, missing the gaps where Azriel’s arm belongs.
Much like a one-sided duet, your tattoos look empty without the other there to complete the song that echoed in your chest, the song that hummed at the sight of him. The bond didn’t feel so much like a snap as a slow sinking, as if you had finally opened your eyes after so long. 
Wrapped in his arms, the two of you had a lot to figure out - the females, what to do with the strange occult Illyrians, but the two of you could do it.
He promised - no more running.
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Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx
Azriel taglist: @brieflyclassymortal @thisiskaylin
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chrollohearttags · 2 days
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listen..listen. I know I said no more JJK but I literally cannot stop thinking about store manager!sukuna 😩
morning sex, black fem!reader, mirror play, backshots, calls reader love and miss, modern au ofc, lil bit of tummy bulging + squirting, he calls women females unironically (he’s from Houston okay JSJSJSJEHJ)
📝: as always, this was supposed to be shorter but I cannot do a proper ‘drabble’ to save my life. I’m sorry!
you had always made it your mission to never be caught dead with Sukuna after hours. Once the lights to the Foot Locker location you were stationed at shut off and the doors locked, that was as far as your business went…at least that’s what you told everyone. Yet here you were at seven in the morning, shuffling around his bedroom, trying to gather your belongings.
“I don’t see the rush, love. The store doesn’t open for another three hours..we have time.” “Yeah, that’s nice, Ryo. I gotta get up out of here..can’t believe you kept me here all night.”
a statement to which he could only cackle in response. Sitting up against the headboard in nothing more than a pair of sleeping shorts and that goofy grin on his face, the suave mannered playboy with his stocky build and plethora of tattoos would merely shield his face in an attempt to feign from laughing at you..honestly, it wasn’t to poke fun or anything like that. He just found it rather amusing that you were frantic over a decision that you made willingly. After all, it was you clinging on to him after dinner and saying how he could have you for dessert instead..unable to quell your true urges now that work had concluded. Naturally, he was fine with that because after watching you strut about in your skin tight dress and heels, he was losing his mind. “And where are you going?” By this time, you were in the bathroom, standing before a large, illuminated mirror as you heard footsteps out of earshot. Suddenly, you’d glance up to see that six foot five frame towering over you. That’s when you’d feel those veiny hands coil around your exposed torso. (Y/N) was only dressed in a cropped tank top that you had worn underneath your ensemble from the previous day and naturally, no bra..which left those plump breasts somewhat exposed and the nipples poking through..
“I already told you..I gotta get out of here..” you were obviously flustered but not because you actually wanted to leave but because you were hoping this would happen..that he’d give you a reason to stay a bit longer. “Like I said…” curling those digits around your throat, he’d gently pull you back towards him and into a searing kiss. Your tongues and lips smacking as they clashed against one another. “What’s the rush?…” by that time, he knew he had worn you down because he could feel your body relax within his grasp. This man knew you like the back of his hand. You played as if you were so stoic and about your business. But what you needed the most was to be taken care of and needless to say, he was happy to fill that void. “C’mon, miss. You knew what it was when you came home with me…let’s go for round two..” l In a matter of moments, your gazes met and those dark eyes locked in on your own. Even upon freshly waking up, he smelled divine and looked so damn sexy! It was the exact reason you couldn’t be here in this capacity with him. But yet again, you found yourself captured in his essence; falling into his trap and you’d let him take over. You’d allow him to scale his hands up and down your frame as those lips were now ravaging your neck; licking and suckling at your throat and leaving subtle marks in his wake…with your exposed ass grinding gently against his pelvis. It was blatantly obvious that you had no plans to leave as you stated!
“I’ll ask again…are you sure you wanna leave?” A very confident and assured Ryomen rhetorically questioned after seeing you writhe around. Something he’d only make worse when he decided to shove two of his fingers into the seat of those soaked panties. Which caused you to emit a gasp. Those surprisingly soft finger pads circulating your clit. It didn’t take long for him to get his answer when you began squirming and rutting yourself against him..causing immense friction and arousal. You’d whimper and mumble but that wouldn’t suffice in his book! “Words, baby..use your words. C’mon..” that deep, buttery smooth voice chuckling and rattling off in your ear yet again. He knew exactly what he was doing and you’d fall for it each time..
“Unt uh…want you.” “That’s what I was waiting to hear..lift that fucking leg.”
baring his teeth like a ravenous animal, he’d plant a heavy smack against your plump asscheek..with that, he’d prop your leg on the counter and burrowed himself behind you…by now, he’d casually slid the waistband of his shorts down, revealing that stiffened cock that had grown erect from hearing your gentle whimpers. From seeing how needy you were.. “…ooh fuck..” mumbling the words whilst sucking his teeth as he tugged that thin panty string to the side and revealed that plump pussy and the glistening juices surrounding the center. There was no way you were leaving until he got every drop of that on his shaft! “..need that pussy right now..gotta have this shit..” He couldn’t even be vexed to waste time teasing you. And instead, he’d grasp at your waste and tug you back onto his cock. The initial sensation and sound that you both made once he was inside of you caught the two of you off guard. You’d both curse under your breath and (y/n)’s eyes would even roll back. Normally, his thrusts were a bit slower paced..wanting to take his sweet time while he was in it but as you had already gotten him riled up, that much more rambunctious side was coming forth. Clapping flesh and wet smacking filled the once silent bathroom as you became one. He’d find himself mesmerized by the ripple of your round cheeks bouncing against him as he gripped the small of your back for leverage.
“Mmmph…Ryo…too much..” crying and whimpering as the thickness of that girthy cock stretched you out. With the pace of those strokes, you were already beginning to from a frothy sheath around him and obviously, he craved more of it! “What’s wrong, love? You said you wanted me, right?…” prompting you to nod as he clutched your throat and sped up once more. “Y-yess…fuck.” “Then take this dick then. Make a mess on my shit, baby. You know how I like it.”
Cackling maniacally as he bottomed out inside of that swollen cunt, pounding you senseless until you could barely keep your head straight, only mustering strength to clutch the sink. He was drilling your shit with little mercy and wasn’t letting up until he accrued the mess he desired. You could feel the bump in the pit of your stomach and you swore you were going to tap out right there. But alas, Ryomen had other plans! Hoisting your head up, he’d snatch your tank top down to expose those breasts and force you stare in the mirror at his work. “The best part about fucking you like this…is knowing how jealous you get me. How you make that lil’ face when you see me talking to other females…shit’s so cute. You’d go crazy if I gave this dick to somebody else..” Gliding that tongue across your lips whilst whispering in your ear..still aggressively pounding you in the process. Which you couldn’t deny! You’d put on this hyper independent facade but you were rather infatuated with him and would become so upset if he even so much as entertained another girl. However, they were all tactics to get his true goal.
“But you don’t have to worry about that..this is all you, baby…”
tapping into his final speed, he’d keep you reigned in and feed you deep strokes until he could feel you clamping down. It was no question as to whether you were close but he was going to get you there because he knew your body better than you did sometimes. “Go ‘head. Squirt for me, love..” smirking whilst slapping your cheek again. You’d look surprised but again, he could sense that pressure building up and knew what was going to follow. “I know what you need, let go..it’s fine.” And you didn’t disappoint! Your bare feet curled up on the cold tile as those juices spilled from between your thighs. “Oh God! Shit..” falling apart in a matter of seconds. Watching you writhe was all the satisfaction he needed to know he could reach his own peak. Pinning you down by the shoulders, Ryo held you in place as he announced his own climax and eventually splattered your back with his cum. That warm, white substance contrasting with your dark skin..such a beautiful sight!
“Damn, baby…swear you always know how to get me right. Come here..”
The two of you began engaging in a barrage of sloppy kisses and smiling against one another’s lips. “..love you..” “..love you too, Ryo.” Now, the day could officially begin! And you both felt as if you could accomplish anything.
“Now let’s get ready for work. Come shower with me.”
“Unt uh..wait your ass in that bed. We’ll never get there on time if we do that.”
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idkwhatever580 · 2 days
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I would die happy
Pairings: teen!Natasha Romanoff x teen!reader
Song Inspiration: very loosely based off of the songs Casual by Chappell Roan and Ashley by Zolita (They’re good to listen to before hand but not necessary. I’ll link them)
Prompt: what happens when “good girl” y/n breaks it off with “bad girl” Natasha and Natasha realizes she needs y/n more than she thought?
Warnings:mentions of sex, angst then fluff, mentions of death? (From the song).
Pronouns: unspecified (one use of ma’am but in a silly way)
A/N: No this is not an actual songfic. I just took inspiration from the songs so there might be a line or five in the mix. I have had these songs stuck in my head the past few days and I kept imagining like a teen romance coming out of it? Idk. Hopefully I write this better than the last one 😭
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Y/n’s pov
I am in my room doing my homework when I hear tapping on my window. I look up from my neat desk to see Natasha.
My instinct is to smile and open the window up but I freeze.
Natasha Romanoff.
Bad girl. She vandalizes things. She doesn’t participate. And she dresses like a fuck boy.
Some call her a player. Some call her a cheater.
Whatever they think there’s one thing everyone can agree on. Natasha romanoff does not do relationships.
She’s usually the one night stand type of girl but then she met me. And that’s when everyone says she went soft. She never fucked another girl other than me.
But that’s all. For half a year. All she’s ever done is sex, aftercare, leave, repeat.
Another set of tapping falls upon my ears and I zone back in. I open the window and whisper
“What are you doing here?”
Natasha crawls in and says
“Wanted to see you. You alright there? You zoned out for a sec”
I nodded my head and my eyes fall upon her necklace. It’s silver with a little arrow.
I hate myself when I think of it. I nod my head and say
“Yeah. Totally fine. Just doing some homework”
I sit back down at my desk even though I know why Natasha is here.
After a whole 6 months of this it’s hard to not know what her routine is. But I don’t want it anymore.
Obviously I caught feelings. Who wouldn’t catch feelings for her? I just thought that I would get over it. I thought that having some of her is better than none of her at all right?
Wrong.
I cry so much now. All I want is for her to love me back. But that’s not reality. She doesn’t do love. She doesn’t do relationships. And I can’t do it anymore.
Natasha walks up behind me and rubs her hands down my arms and starts kissing my neck. My body lets her do it but then I think about it and take her hands off me.
“Not tonight. I have to study”
She doesn’t let up. Because usually I like playing hard to get. So she doesn’t know. And that’s okay. It’s my fault she doesn’t know.
“I can help you relax baby”
I roll my eyes at the pet name and say
“Natasha. Can we talk?”
She stands up straighter at my use of her full name and says
“Yeah. Sure”
I can tell she is a bit surprised at me but she nods her head nevertheless.
She sits down at the foot of my bed and I roll my chair over to her.
I sigh and look at the ground.
“I don’t know how to say this, but I can’t do this anymore Natasha”
She furrows her eyebrows and says
“You can’t do what?”
“This Natasha,”
I point at her and myself
“I hate myself for letting this drag on so long because I know you. I know you don’t want a relationship. But I lo- I like you Natasha. And I want you. All to myself. I want labels and I want to go to the pier together and eat popsicles and I want you to tell your friends and I want a future with you.”
I can tell I’m overwhelming her with this information but I keep going
“But you don’t want that. And that’s okay! I understand that some things aren’t meant to last. But I can’t keep hurting myself for some fun okay? I need to heal and move on. And you can go find another toy to play with and that’s okay. I just can’t be the one you go to anymore. It’s not what I want. And our ideals clearly do not align. I thought maybe I could do it and be able to handle all of this but I can’t.”
I tear up a bit
“I can’t be casual with you. I want feelings attached and I want you to myself but you don’t want me like that. So I need to cut it off.”
I finally finish my rant and I look down feeling embarrassed.
“I’m sorry”
I apologize and she shakes her head
“Don’t apologize. I get it.”
We sit there for a minute of awkward silence and she sighs and says
“I guess I should go then”
I nod my head and sniffle a bit. She lingers like she has something to say but she ultimately leaves and on her way out of my window she says
“I’ll see you at school I guess”
I nod my head.
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It’s been a week since I cut it off with Natasha and I look rough. My friends are worried about me but I tell them I’m fine.
Even some of my teachers have asked if I’m okay. Of course I lie to them. But it’s nice to know someone cares.
I have avoided Natasha at all costs. But I still find myself thinking about her.
Her arrow necklace. God I hate myself when I think of it. Because then I think of her. And then I start crying. Or I just shut down.
Yes. I may or may not have almost said I love you the night I cut it off with her. But I didn’t want her to have to hold all of my baggage. It’s not fair. She doesn’t like me like that. And she doesn’t deserve to feel guilty for what I feel.
My friend Emerald walks up to me during a free period and she says
“Hey did you see Natasha today?”
I shake my head and say
“I don’t want to talk about her.”
She shakes her head and says
“Well you’re gonna have to listen. She is the talk of the school right now so either you hear it from me or someone else.”
I roll my eyes and say
“What Em? Does she have a new toy hanging on her shoulder?”
Clearly I’m a little ticked off about having to hear about her.
But em shakes her head and I look at her and wait for her to continue
“She’s wearing your hoodie”
I look at her and say
“My hoodie? She doesn’t have any of my clothes, except for that bra that I’ll probably never get back”
She takes out her phone and shows me my favorite hoodie. It’s the pink one that I got from the thrift store. They all knew it was mine because it has em’s name on the sleeve. And a duck on the front.
I remember now. I forgot it at her house one time after she fucked me in her beach house. That was the day everyone found out and started talking about how I’m just a girl she fucked on her couch.
I cried so much that I forgot about it. And of course she just came over to make me forget about all the things people said.
I look at her and say
“Why would she ever wear that?”
She wiggles her eyebrows at me and says
“She obviously likes you y/n”
I roll my eyes and say
“She doesn’t like me Em. From the beginning everyone has known she doesn’t do crushes.”
Em shrugs her shoulders and says
“People can change.”
I roll my eyes and get a little frustrated and say
“Leave it Em. I don’t want to talk about it.”
She puts her hands up in surrender and leaves it at that.
The rest of the day goes by slowly. But I catch a glimpse of Natasha at the end of the day. She is wearing my hoodie. She looks good in it. But she shouldn’t be wearing that. I’m not hers. And she’s not mine.
I quickly leave so she doesn’t see me. Even though we definitely made eye contact. But it’s whatever.
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It’s about 8 pm now and I’m studying again. This final is about to make or break me so I can’t let myself loosen the reigns even though it’s only a midterm.
I have my headphones on and I’m listening to classical because it apparently helps people study. I’m honestly doing anything to help me.
A hand taps my shoulder and I jump up quickly but thankfully I don’t yell.
I turn around quickly and see Natasha standing there.
I immediately get frustrated and say
“What are you doing here?”
I take a second to actually look at her and she looks like shit. Honestly she is looking at me like a lost puppy. Like she hasn’t been in my room for six months. Her hair is a mess, shes still in my hoodie, and the bags under her eyes indicate that she hasn’t been sleeping well. I almost feel bad for her. Then I remember I can’t let my feelings get in the way. She says
“I um… I wanted to talk to you”
I sigh and say
“Well what is it? I’m listening?”
I feel bad for being so short with her but I can’t do it any other way or else I’ll break down.
She kind of stands there for a second and I sit down on my bed and pat it. I might as well be nice to her. She’s not a horrible person anyways.
She shakes her head slightly and keeps standing. I look at her and say
“You wanted to talk?”
She nods her head and says
“I don’t know how to say this but… I- I need you y/n”
I have never seen Natasha cry once. But she immediately breaks down in front of me
“I can’t do this without you. I need you so bad I just want all of you. I thought that if I convinced myself that it was for the better, that if I said I wanted this it would come true. But it’s not true I- I love you and I know you are probably over me by now and that’s okay I just need to tell you that I want you and only you. I know I’ve never done anything like this but I want to I want to change. I want to be good. For you. I want to take you on dates and tell everyone about you. And I don’t think I can do this without you because life is like a bad dream without you and I didn’t even realize what I had until I lost it!”
She starts crying. I start tearing up at her confession and I say
“Stop it. Stop it Natasha.”
It’s short and snippy because I’m about to cry.
“You can’t just say those things and pull at my heart just to get into my pants okay? I’m sorry that nobody wanted to get with you but I cannot just go crawling back to you if you just lie to me to get me back”
She looks at me and she shakes her head aggressively and says
“No. No I don’t. I don’t want to get into your pants I actually love you. I didn’t even know it because I’ve never felt love before y/n. Please you have to understand me I love you. I love you so much and I want a future with you. I was just scared but I’m not scared anymore I want you!”
She drops to her knees and tries to calm down a bit and says
“I understand if you don’t want me but I want you. I want to be your girlfriend. I want to introduce you to my friends and family. And- and I know my past doesn’t help anything. My reputation is probably your biggest fear but I can’t imagine my life without it. I’ve never been the sappy type but I’m telling the truth. If loving you kills me then I will die happy y/n”
I look at her from my bed and I see the genuine look in her eyes. I tear up again and the I get down from my bed and she looks down. It’s like she’s worshipping me. Like if she doesn’t she might lose me.
I envelope her in a hug and she starts crying into me. And I say
“Tell me that you love me and you won’t leave me.”
She looks at me with tears running down her face and her nose is sniffly and she says with such confdence
“I love you y/n. Nothing can change that. I won’t ever leave you. Not even if I could. I want to be yours”
I smile at her as she waits for me to answer and I grab her head and lean into her. I kiss her.
This kiss is different than any other kiss I’ve ever shared with her. It’s soft and tender. And full of love. I don’t even care that her tears and boogers are getting on me.
I don’t care. I just love her. I pull away and giggle and she kind of sits in criss cross. And I say
“Natasha. I love you too. I’ve loved you for a while now. I was just scared to say it.”
She sends me a dopey smile. I’ve never seen her smile at me like that. I like it. So I boop her nose and say
“Cute.”
She scrunches up her nose and says
“I’m everything but cute right now.”
I shake my head and say
“You’re always cute.”
I kiss her again after she wipes her face off and it’s sweet. I pull her into my lap and she says
“I don’t like this.”
Normally I guess she would be more comfortable with me on her lap. But I don’t care.
“I guess you’re just gonna have to suck it up.”
We sit on my floor for a bit and I say
“Oh shit! It’s late.”
I check the time and say
“It’s nine o’clock already! You have to get home baby”
She stops at the nickname and says
“Wait. So… are we?”
I giggle and say
“After all of that? There’s no way we’re not dating. So yes. I’m gonna call you baby. But you need to go home and I need sleep”
She smiles and says
“Can I have a hug before I go?”
I nod my head and pull her in for a long hug.
I kiss her head and then her nose and then her lips and say
“I love you. Now go. I’ll pick you up for school tomorrow?”
She usually walks to school and I drive but I want to pick her up now. She nods her head and I stop her before she leaves my window and I say
“And I want my hoodie back.”
She laughs softly and says
“No way. It’s mine now.”
Then I pull her back in to me and distract her with a kiss. I say
“Well then. I guess this is mine now”
I swiftly pull the hoodie she has on right now off of her and she pouts and says
“Aw man. That’s a good hoodie.”
I smile and say
“Only the best for me right?”
She smiles finally and nods her head and I say
“Text me when you get home okay?”
She nods her head and says
“Yes ma’am”
I giggle and shake my head. I watch as she walks off into the night and I hop onto my bed and cuddle my stuffed animal with a bright smile on my face.
All of that heartache must have been worth it.
She was right. If loving her kills me, then I would die happy.
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A/N: I actually kind of like how this one turned out. I know I pulled from the songs a lot but at least it was built into the words and not like a normal songfic lol. Because I’ve heard that many people do not like songfics :)
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stevie-petey · 3 days
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episode three: the case of the missing lifeguard
You glance at your door, worried your mom has heard Steve’s pathetic fall, while he clutches at his knee and groans. Through gasps of pain, he manages to respond, “Give me a second to recover my pride, Y/N.” “We need more than just a second to recover your pride.” You crawl out of bed and offer the boy your hand. “Get up, dummy.” He accepts the help and stands, brushing himself off. “Your bed is freakishly high.” “Have you ever considered that you’re just clumsy?” “I’m an athlete, angel.”
Summary: dustin blackmails you for $5 and then dubs steve as boyfriend material for you, robin cracks yet another russian code, you all almost waterboard yourselves after sneaking onto the mall's roof, you have a sexy nervous breakdown, and jonathan takes you for a drive in his sick car
Rating: general, some swearing
Warnings: swearing, use of y/n, fem!reader
Words: 7k
Before you swing in: hi my loves !! had a hectic final week of classes but im finally done !! (technically i have one more final but thats a later issue). this chapter is a lot of banter and chaos and theres some sad feelings towards the end that im a bit frightened to see the reactions to so ,,,, enjoy !
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When your alarm goes off for work, Steve accidentally kicks you off of your bed in his panic.
“Fuck!”
Your brain barely has time to process that you’re awake as you begin to fall. “What–”
Steve manages to catch you from face planting just in time, flinging you back onto the bed as he struggles to untangle himself from the blankets. “Fuck! Sorry!”
“What’s going on?” you rub your eyes and realize that the screeching sound next to you is your alarm. Slamming your hand against it, the cloud of sleep starts to lift from your brain and you realize why Steve is a storm of chaos right now. “Oh, fuck.”
The two of you accidentally fell asleep together last night. 
He never went home, he never snuck back out your window with a kiss farewell. 
Now, as you take in the situation you’re currently in, you can hear your mother making breakfast in the kitchen, blissfully unaware that there’s a boy in her daughter’s room.
“Yeah, fuck!” Steve shakes at his leg, which is somehow twisted within your bedding and prevents him from escaping. “Get me out!”
“Shit!” You quickly untwist the bedding and free him, but as he rolls off your bed, he misjudges the height and fails to catch himself. He lands with a horrifyingly loud thud, and you throw a pillow at him. “Will you shut up?”
You glance at your door, worried your mom has heard Steve’s pathetic fall, while he clutches at his knee and groans. Through gasps of pain, he manages to respond, “Give me a second to recover my pride, Y/N.”
“We need more than just a second to recover your pride.” You crawl out of bed and offer the boy your hand. “Get up, dummy.”
He accepts the help and stands, brushing himself off. “Your bed is freakishly high.”
“Have you ever considered that you’re just clumsy?”
“I’m an athlete, angel.”
You place your hands on his chest and gently shove him towards your window. “Well, if you’re such an athlete, then it should be no problem for you to hop through this window and get to work, Harrington.”
“At least pretend you’re sad to see me leave–”
Someone knocks on your door. “Y/N? You awake yet?”
Hearing Dustin’s voice, you and Steve exchange a horrified look before you’re shoving even harder at his chest to get him out of your room. “Go!”
Steve stumbles over his feet and makes as much sound as humanly possible. He knocks into your desk and sends a stack of comics falling and he almost slips on them, only narrowly catching himself. Frustrated and bewildered that he keeps falling, he exclaims, “Why does this keep happening?”
The knocking on your door stops. A beat of silence passes before Dustin hesitantly calls through the door, “... did I just hear Steve?”
“No!” You almost throw Steve out your window with the force you shove him, which he curses at and gives you a dirty look, though you ignore him. He’s the one who got you into this fantastically horrible mess in the first place. “I–uh. I stubbed my toe!”
You anxiously wait for Dustin’s response, mentally running through all possible explanations in your head, but after a few minutes pass and you don’t hear anything; you exhale with relief. Seemingly sensing that you’re in the clear, Steve breathes out as well. “That was close.”
“Ew!” Your brother’s screech could rival the Demodogs with how loud and terrifying it is.
Gulping, Steve looks at you and laughs nervously. “Whoops?”
You glare at him. “Get out.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He kisses your forehead and does as he’s told, crawling through your window. Thankfully he lands gracefully this time, and as he begins running towards his car parked down the street, he calls over his shoulder, “See you after your shift!”
Despite your annoyance, you can’t help but laugh as you watch him run away. It’s reminiscent of the boyish charm you saw a few years ago, back when you had almost hit his car with your bike and he had pretended not to know your name in order to get you to laugh. 
Your reminiscing is cut short by Dustin’s obnoxious groaning. “Oh, god. Why did it get quiet in there? Get off my sister!”
You march over towards your door and fling it open. Your brother stands there, a horrified look on his face, and you glance behind him to make sure your mom is still in the kitchen. When the coast is clear, you sneer at him, “Nothing happened!”
“I’m fourteen, not an idiot.”
“We didn’t do anything.” When Dustin snorts at you, disbelieving, you want to strangle the kid. You’re mortified and cannot fucking believe that your little brother thinks anything else happened between you and Steve. “I swear.”
“See, I’d believe you, but mom…” He shrugs with a smug look on his horrid face. “I don’t know, Y/N.”
You drop your head and sigh, knowing where this is going. “How much money do you want?”
“$5, please. I prefer exact change, too.” He extends his arm out and opens his hand, silently demanding the money. 
“You’re horrible, you know that?” You go into your dresser and pull out a five dollar bill before handing it to him. 
Clutching the cash, Dustin smirks. “You raised me well.”
“Get out of my room.”
Hearing the anger in your voice, your brother knows he has about five more seconds before you start throwing things at him. “Yes, ma’am.”
– 
Work is slow, as usual, and when it’s time to pick up Alex from the pool, you wish Mrs. Waters a good day and get into your mom’s car that you borrowed today. With fewer shifts at the bookshop, Alex has started working at the pool to make extra money; on days when he’s there before a shift at Bookstrordinary, it’s your job to drive him to work. 
It’s pouring as you drive to the pool, setting an eerie tone on the first day of July. The summer’s heat causes the thunder to shake your car, and your knuckles are white from how tightly you hold onto the steering wheel.
When you pull up and see Alex hunched over and drenched from the rain, you laugh at him. “Well, looks like someone’s shift ended at the right time,” you say as he quickly jumps into your car. 
Alex doesn’t return your good mood. “Not funny, Y/N.”
Sensing that there’s something more to his foul mood than just being rained on, you look over at him in concern as you begin to drive. “Is everything alright over there?”
“Billy and Heather never showed up for work, so we were short handed fending off dumb kids who wanted to swim with lightning.” Alex wrings out his t-shirt and shakes his hair to dispel excess water, and you cringe as some of the water droplets land on you. “Telling a bunch of scary twelve year olds that they can’t swim… I thought I would die.”
The genuine terror in his voice is amusing, though his words unnerve you. It’s not like Billy to just not show up for work. He’s a lot of things, mainly a dickhead, but the few times you’ve driven the party to the pool, he’s always been there working; he’s dedicated to discipline. Hell, you’ve been to Max’s house, you know her family isn’t the wealthiest.
Billy can’t afford to skip work. 
“They just… never showed up?”
“Nope,” Alex curls into him in a feeble attempt to warm himself up. “We all think they ditched to hookup.”
You think about how rough Billy had looked yesterday, with fresh blood still dripping from him and the feverish chills he seemed to have. Something hadn’t been right, and a knot forms in your stomach. You highly doubt he had ditched work to go hookup with Heather, not if he’s still in the state that he was in yesterday. 
Regardless of what he’s done to you, you hope he’s okay.
Something about this feels wrong.
“Yeah, probably.” Your voice is weak as you respond to your coworker, but he doesn’t seem to pick up on your now solemn mood. 
The rest of the car ride is spent with Alex gossiping about where Billy and Heather could be, so it’s a relief when you finally arrive at Bookstrordinary and he leaves your car. You sit in the parking lot for a few minutes, your stomach twists and the knots multiply. The rain patters softly against the windshield in an almost rhythmic pattern as you try to calm yourself down with deep breaths.
The only sound in the car is your own breathing accompanied by the raindrops. 
– 
It’s Dustin’s idea to spend the day looking for evil Russians. 
Steve isn’t sure where he got the binoculars, but at this point he’s learned that it’s best to not question the kid. Makes things easier.
Which leads to now: the two of them hunched behind fake plants at Starcourt sharing binoculars as they look for people who could fit the “evil Russian” description, all while ignoring the fact that Dustin caught Steve in your room. 
“I don’t know what an evil Russian looks like.” Steve is holding the binoculars up to his eyes as he scans the food court area. He has no clue what he’s looking for and he swears that Dustin is purposely staring him down to try and get him to confess about this morning.
“Tall, blond, not smiling.” The kid responds, knowing that Steve is trying to distract him with stupid questions. He’s squirming under Dustin’s gaze, which he gets a sick joy out of. Between the $5 you coughed up and Steve’s obvious distress, it’s a pretty good day for Dustin Henderson. “Anyways, look for earpieces, camo, duffel bags, that sort of thing.”
Steve continues to look through the binoculars, relieved that Dustin seems to be playing along and hasn’t hounded him about this morning. “Right, okay. Duffle bags.”
As Steve busies himself with the search, Dustin waits a few seconds to lull him into a false sense of security. He’s been waiting all day to do this. Clearing his throat, he prepares for the attack. “Hey, uh, Steve?”
“Yeah, little Henderson?”
“While you look for evil Russians, keep an eye out for idiots who traumatize their friends by sleeping with their sisters.”
Steve yanks the binoculars away from his face as if they’ve burned him. His eyes are wide and panicked as he turns to Dustin with a horrified look on his face. “That is not what happened!”
“Tell that to the traumatized kid.” The younger teen waves a hand over himself to emphasize his point. “You owe me like, at least five years of therapy.”
“I didn’t sleep with Y/N, dude! That’s–that’s gross–”
“Are you calling my sister gross?” Dustin crosses his arms now, daring Steve to go on. 
He groans and rubs his face. “That’s not what I meant, alright? I just… She’s your sister and–and we aren’t even together–”
“That’s a good point, actually.” Dustin snatches the binoculars out of Steve’s hand and starts to look for any signs of Russians. “Why aren’t you with my sister?”
Steve stares at him, dumbfounded. “You’re sending totally mixed signals, dude. Do you want me dating Y/N or not?”
“It’s not preferable, especially when I catch you sneaking out of her window like some skeezy douchebag–”
“How many times do I have to tell you nothing happened–”
“But, besides that,” Dustin shrugs, narrowing his eyes when he sees a possible blond teen who could fit the evil Russian description. “You’re not so bad, even though you’re a massive tool for not asking out the perfect girl right in front of you.”
Steve rolls his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose, entirely over this conversation. “You sound like Robin.”
The blond teen Dustin had been eying sits down and starts eating a hot dog, so he concludes that he isn’t Russian if he has an affinity for American food. “And Robin would be correct. Just ask Y/N out, she’s been waiting for like, at least a year now.”
“It’s not that easy.” Steve slumps over and bangs his head against the plant display they’re leaning against. “I have no idea how to ask her to be my girlfriend.”
“What, do you need my blessing or some shit?” Dustin removes the binoculars from his face and looks at the older teen, making sure to catch his eye. Then, in a horrible British accent, he says, “I give thy my blessing.”
“Thanks, buddy.” Steve deadpans, shoving the kid’s face away from his, uncomfortable with the eye contact. “But your blessing isn’t the problem. Y/N is just–she’s different and has been through a fuck ton of shit that I can’t even comprehend, and I’m just supposed to believe she wants to be with me?”
“Yeah?” Dustin cocks his head at Steve, not all understanding why he’s so confused about this. “You literally slept in her bed last night, man.”
Steve releases a quick breath and scratches his nose. He feels like an idiot and just really wishes you were here right now. “I… Well, yeah. Then there’s that.”
“It astounds me that you were once known as King Steve with a million girls drooling over him.” Dustin mumbles, baffled by the other’s patheticness, before going back to looking for Russians. 
“Let’s remember that it was my advice that got you that girlfriend of yours, alright? Girls love me, that’s never been the issue, ” Steve flicks the kid’s nose, a habit he’s picked up from you. “So cool it with the arrogance, dipshit.”
“Steve, do I need to remind you that it’s not okay to call my brother a dipshit?”
Your sudden appearance causes Steve to clutch his chest and scream. He spins around and gasps, terrified of how much you may have heard from his conversation with Dustin. “Y/N! Y-you’re here!”
“I am…” You frown, unsure why he looks so scared; normally he’s excited when you surprise him at work. 
“Uh,” Steve clears his throat and straightens his shirt out, trying to come off as collected rather than five seconds away from losing his shit. “I, uh. How much did you hear, ya know. Standing there?”
“Not much…?” Truthfully you’d been lost in thought, still worrying about Billy as you had approached the two teens hiding behind the fake plants. “All I heard was you calling my brother a dipshit.”
Steve deflates, and his reaction only confuses you further. Clearing his throat once more, he nods. “Oh. Yeah.”
You look over at Dustin, hoping for some type of clue as to what the fuck is wrong with Steve right now. “Did I miss something?”
“He was giving me horrible dating advice. Can we get back to looking for evil Russians?”
“Dating advice, huh?” You raise your eyebrows at Steve, who blushes furiously, and you giggle at his misery before turning back to Dustin. You eye the binoculars in his hand and point a finger at them. “And you can’t seriously think you’ll find evil Russians this way, right?”
“You got any better ideas, Y/N?” Your brother snarks as he brings the binoculars back up to his eyes. 
You nudge him with your shoulder. “No, but I’m positive I can think of something less childish than whatever this is.”
“Just help us look for someone tall and blond with duffel bags.” Steve sighs.
“Oh, because duffel bags are so scary and Russian.” You roll your eyes at the boys, ashamed of their antics. Their logic is flawed and biased with so many gaping holes, it’s almost comical, but it’s enough to distract you from your anxiety from earlier. “Guys, why can’t we just go back to Scoops and figure out another way–”
“Target acquired.” Dustin suddenly interrupts you. 
You share a look with Steve, who leans closer to the kid. “Where?”
“Ten o’clock. Sam Goody’s.”
Steve snatches the binoculars from Dustin’s hands and takes a look for himself, which you scoff at. They’re being ridiculous right now. However, when the older teen exhales in disbelief and announces the person has a duffel bag, your curiosity gets the better of you.
“Hand it over, pretty boy.” Before he can argue, you’ve snatched the binoculars from Steve and bring them up to your own eyes. It takes a few moments for you to find what the boys had been looking at, but when you finally spot the tall, blond man dressed in all black with sunglasses and a duffel bag, you can’t help but admit that he looks suspicious. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
Steve and Dustin turn to each other and say in unison. “Evil Russian.”
The three of you chase after the guy, weaving between the crowd of people at the mall as you trail him. You and Dustin side step a woman with her kid as Steve speeds ahead of you guys. Struggling to keep up, your brother berates Steve to slow down. 
“We’re losin’ him.” He responds, only speeding up even more. 
“You’re getting too close.” Dustin warns, and you almost trip over your shoelaces in your haste. He’s right, Steve is getting too close to the guy, and it’s making you nervous.
You quicken your footsteps and tug at his uniform. “Steve, we need to be careful–”
Suddenly the Russian looking guy stops in his tracks and slowly begins to turn around. You all scramble and try to appear casual; Dustin runs to the phone and pretends to make a call while Steve pulls you to the corner and places his hands on your waist to pull you close. 
“Pretend we’re a couple!” He whispers, throwing your hands over his shoulders. 
“This is wholly unnecessary,” you mumble, face burning at the close proximity. His fingers burn your sides, it’s been too long since he’s held you like this. 
Steve chuckles at you and pulls you in closer, enjoying the moment far more than you think is needed. “Gotta admit, this is pretty romantic.”
You roll your eyes. “Totally. Super hot hunting down evil Russian spies with you, Steve.”
“Stop sucking face, the guy is getting away!” Dustin yanks at you and tears you from Steve’s grasp, disturbed and annoyed that it only took three seconds before you distracted the teen. 
Soon you’re all following the blond guy again, and when he starts to slow down, the three of you hide behind a column and poke your heads out. Watching, you see the guy enter into the Jazzercise studio and pull a speaker from his duffel bag. 
“Oh, this is much better than him being a Russian spy.” You snort, entirely amused by how this has all unfolded. The guy unzips his hoodie and reveals an incredibly muscular physique, and you can’t help but bite your lip. “His arms… Oh my.”
Steve sees you eyeing the guy and scrowls. “His arms aren’t that nice. “ He starts pulling you away now, sending death glares at the now confirmed zumba instructor, obviously jealous. You laugh, knowing your comment would annoy him. 
“I don’t know, honey. His arms were huge.”
“Please,” Steve rolls his eyes, unamused. “They looked like twigs to me.”
“You and I both know you’re lying.”
Steve groans and kisses your hand as he tugs you towards Scoops Ahoy. “You’re killing me here, angel.”
“It’s what I do best.”
While you and Steve argue, Dustin gags at you both and sighs in disappointment. He listens to you two argue the whole way back to the ice cream shop, and he’s never wanted to bang his head against a wall more. Here Steve is, claiming he can’t ask you out, yet he’s pathetically moping about you finding some random guy’s arms hot.
Dustin thinks the poor guy is doomed. 
When you arrive at Scoops, you break away from Steve’s whining and greet Robin. “Dude, you won’t believe the hot zumba instructor we followed–”
The girl rushes past you, not at all acknowledging your presence, as she exits the shop. You stop walking and share a confused look with Dustin and Steve as you all watch Robin run outside and jump on top of one of the benches. 
“What the hell?” You follow after her, concerned by her franticness. 
Robin is mumbling under her breath when you catch up, repeating the first sentence of the Russian code you deciphered over and over again as she spins and looks around the mall. “A trip to China sounds nice.”
“Hey, is everything okay?”
“A trip to China…” She ignores you as her eyes scan around the area once more. She looks as if she’s searching for something, repeating the phrase to herself.
You look around as well, not fully understanding what she’s doing, but it’s clear she’s at least looking for something to match the sentence. In the center of the food court, all you see are chain restaurants and vendors. Frustrated, you sigh. “Robin, I’m not sure what we’re looking for.”
“There!” She points at a restaurant called the Imperial Panda. “A trip to China!”
Bits of the code start to piece together in your head. If the message corresponds to stores in the mall… Unsure if you’re understanding Robin correctly, you hesitantly point towards the local shoe store up above. “If you tread lightly?”
“Yes! God, I knew you were the smart one in that weird trio!” Robin nods eagerly and tries to recall the rest. “When–when blue and yellow meet in the west. What could that mean?”
You both spin around, trying to find anything that could align with the line. As you’re studying a poster sign, Robin snaps her fingers and nods her head towards the giant clock that hangs below a bay window. Its hands are blue and yellow. “Think this could be it?”
“Robin Buckley, you’re a genius!” You throw your arms around her, in disbelief that she was able to figure the bizarre Russian code out all on her own. 
Robin is stiff in your arms for a moment, having not expected the praise, before she slowly melts into the embrace. She coughs slightly, her voice a pitch higher than usual. “It was easy enough to figure out.” 
“Robin, Y/N,” Steve and Dustin now join. “What are you two doing?”
“She cracked it!” You pull away from Robin but keep an arm thrown over her shoulder. 
Steve frowns. “Cracked what?”
Robin gently shoves your arm off and jumps down the bench she had been on. Stepping towards the boys, she leans in close, a glint in her eye. “I cracked the code.” 
“Is this even legal?” You shout over the thunder, shivering as the rain from the storm soaks through your clothes and into your bones as you sit with Steve and the others on the mall’s rooftop to spy on Russians.
You’re not at all sure how you ended up in this situation. 
When Robin had cracked the code, you figured that the four of you would ask the other mall employees about their delivery shifts. Maybe hide out in Steve’s car and watch for deliveries during the day, eliminate other variables. 
What you didn’t think the four of you would do, however, is sneak onto the roof of the mall in the pouring rain for an impromptu stakeout. 
Thunder rumbles above you as lightning strikes, causing you to jump further into Steve’s side. He wraps an arm around you and rubs soothing circles to try and comfort you, knowing that this entire situation is your nightmare.
Seeing your fear, Robin tries to reassure you. “We’re fine, Y/N.” Then she turns to Dustin, who is holding his stupid binoculars up as he surveys the group of delivery men below you. “Look for Imperial Panda and Kaufman Shoes.”
Your brother takes a moment to look around before he spots something. “They’re with that whistling guy, ten o'clock.”
You look down and watch the guy cart a series of boxes into the shipment alleyway. “It’s just a bunch of boxes, guys.”
“Sure, but what do you think’s in there?” Steve questions, absentmindedly drawing you closer for warmth when he feels you shiver again. He loaned you his raincoat, but clearly it doesn’t seem to be helping much with how much he can feel you shiver. A twinge of guilt sears through him for putting you through this in the first place.
“Guns, bombs?” Dustin guesses.
Robin throws in her own suggestions. “Chemical weapons?” 
“How about delicious noodles and sensible shoes? Why haven’t we considered those as options?” Your teeth are chattering now as more rain slams against you.
“Shut up, Y/N.” Dustin raises his binoculars up again. “Whatever it is, they’re armed to the teeth.”
“Armed?” You exclaim as more thunder clashes. Your switchblade warms in your pocket ominously; you didn’t sign up for men wielding fucking weapons. 
“Great.” Steve wipes water out of his face, feeling just as overwhelmed and defeated as you. “That’s great.”
The metal doors in the alleyway start to open, and faintly you can see the outline of more boxes within the storage room, it looks almost like a vault, though it’s hard to tell. Next to you, Robin squints as well. “What’s in there?”
“It’s just more boxes.” Dustin has to raise his voice in order to be heard over the rain.
Steve reaches for the binoculars. “Let me beck it out.”
However, he only ends up in an intense game of tug-of-war with Dustin as they start to fight over the binoculars. They grapple over it, argue about who needs it more, before the rain causes the thing they’re fighting over to slip out of their hands and bang harshly against the guardrail. 
The noise rings out through the night and catches the men’s attention from below. Gasping, you yank everyone down before they can see you. Instinctively your hand reaches for Steve’s while Robin reaches for your other hand. With your backs to the ground, the four of you pant as the adrenaline of almost being caught courses through you. 
Steve looks over at you to make sure you’re okay, and his eyes land on Robin’s fingers intertwined through yours. He frowns a bit, finding the physical affection from her odd, but sends her teasing wink.
When Robin sees his wink, she only clenches her jaw and turns away before releasing your hand. 
– 
“Well, I think we found your Russians.” Robin says as you all re-enter the mall.
“That was too close.” You mutter, wringing out your soaked t-shirt as your hair drips onto the floor. While the others seem to have already forgotten how the men with giant guns almost found you on the roof, you haven’t. It’s been on your mind the last ten minutes; it’s all you can fucking think about. 
You’re in too deep again. You can feel it. 
Dustin passes you and now walks in step with Robin. “What’s our plan now?” 
“Well, strange child, I think it’s obvious that we gotta break into the vault.”
“I’m sorry?” You step in between them now, not at all liking what you’re hearing. “No one is breaking into anything. Do you have any idea how dangerous and stupid that is?”
“C’mon, Y/N, loosen up a little!” Dustin whines, wanting you to just be on his side for once. 
“Loosen up? Guys, this is serious.” You look around at the others, lacing your voice with urgence. “We could be dealing with a national crisis, this isn’t just some stupid spy mission. We aren’t at all qualified to handle this.”
“I mean, aren’t we?” Steve hesitantly speaks up. When your angry eyes meet his, he flinches slightly. “Y/N, I know you’re scared, but–”
“I’m not scared.”
“We’ve been through… a lot,” his eyes flick over towards Robin, knowing she’s listening and that he can’t reveal too much. “All we’re doing is breaking into a vault. I mean, c’mon. We can do that, easily.”
Dustin nods eagerly at Steve’s words and Robin hums in approval. The three of them seem to almost form a unit against you, which makes you draw into yourself. Suddenly you feel like the odd man out, with no one on your side. Feeling panicked and defensive, your anger rises. “We shouldn’t have to break into anything! We can call Hopper, tell him what’s happening and at least have someone else on our side in case something happens.”
“Oh, like Hopper would believe us.” Dustin scoffs at you as if you’re some idiot, which doesn’t help the insecurity you feel.
“I know he’d listen to me.” You still regret having not called Hopper two years ago when you had found El in the woods. Had you told him about her sooner, about everything sooner, you know that you would’ve saved your brother and everyone else the heartache they endured because of you. 
You can’t make the same mistake again. You refuse to. 
Robin tries to appease you. “Look, we can just take a peek inside the vault, maybe dig through a box or two, then we can rat the Russians out to the cops! I promise, we won’t be doing anything dangerous.”
“We don’t know that.” 
Your words ring throughout the empty hallway the four of you stand in. An echo follows them, as if taunting you of your fears and worries, and no one says anything else. You all stand there, frozen, with Robin, Steve, and Dustin facing you. As if there’s a line now dividing them from you.
Steve’s heart pounds in his chest as your eyes land on him, silently pleading with him to say something, anything. “Y/N…”
But he can’t. Even though he heard the rising anxiety in your voice, even though he knows the weight behind the words you’ve yelled, Steve can’t meet your eye.
He knows that you carry so much guilt within you, and he wishes he could offer you more. He’s torn between wanting to defend you and ease the fear that you’ve confessed to him before, how you feel this overwhelming need to protect the ones you love, but he also wants to follow through with the Russians. To see where it takes him, if he can redeem himself. 
You stand before the three others, chest rising and falling rapidly, wondering if you’ve gone too far this time. 
Dustin is the one who steps forward first. He stares at you for a moment, his eyes sad, knowing that there’s more to your reluctance than just the possible danger. He understands how hard you fight to keep him safe, and how much harder you blame yourself when something goes wrong. With a sigh, your brother grabs your hand and starts to pull you away from the others.
“I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” Dustin says to Steve and Robin. Then, with an uncharacteristically gentle voice, he says to you, “let’s go home.”
You’re too tired to argue and you’re afraid you’ll start crying if you try to say anything else, so you follow after your brother and leave Steve and Robin alone in the hall.
– 
At home, you lay in bed trying to ignore the twisting feeling in your stomach that you’ve let everyone down. That you’ve let Steve down. You’ve never really argued with him before, at least not like this. You’re not even sure if you can call what happened earlier an argument, and the thought makes you groan and shove your face into your pillows.
You’re exhausted. 
As your thoughts spiral, your phone rings. 
“Hello?”
“Hey, bug.”
Jonathan’s voice settles over you in slow, soothing waves. You close your eyes, having not known how much you needed him until now. “Hi, bee.”
“You sound tired.” He notes with slight worry, always able to read you.
You sigh. “It’s… been a long day.” 
He hums over the phone, and the sound is familiar and lovely, though just as tired. “You too, huh?”
“I take it you’re not doing too well, either?”
“No,” he sighs, a slight gruffness to it. “Meet me in your driveway in ten minutes?”
“Deal.” 
He hangs up and you crawl out of bed, despite your aching bones protesting. You throw on a hoodie knowing to ward off July’s brisk night air and lazily lace up your sneakers. Slowly, so as to not make any loud noise, you open your door and poke your head out. 
The house is quiet. Your mom and Dustin must be asleep in their rooms, so you softly close your door and make your way outside. 
It doesn’t take long before Jonathan’s car pulls into your driveway. He has his headlights off, long familiar with the routine of picking you up late at night for drives around town. The two of you used to do it every night the summer he first got his license. 
You get into the car and the heat kisses your cheeks. Jonathan greets you with a tired smile as you put your seatbelt on, and when you nod your head at him, he starts the car and drives.
Neither of you say anything for a while as Jonathan drives the route you always take together. He has an old mix tape playing and you hum along, familiar with the songs. It’s peaceful, your fears from earlier have now faded; for now, it’s just you and Jonathan as you drive around Hawkins. 
“I’m sorry for being M.I.A recently.” He finally says after a while. You sit up a bit, knowing he’s ready now to talk about what’s brought him here tonight. The two of you never just drive around anymore for the fun of it, you know he’s here because there’s something bothering him. “Nancy has been… worrying me.”
You lean closer to Jonathan, now concerned. “Is everything okay between you two?”
“Honestly?” He breathes in shakily. “I–I don’t know.”
“Talk to me, bee.” You grab his hand that rests on the stick shift.
And he does. He explains about a woman named Mrs. Driscoll who called the Hawkins Post and how Nancy had decided to check out the story without telling their boss, roping Jonathan into it. He explains the rat they saw at the woman’s house, how it had looked sick, maybe infected with rabies, and how he had taken pictures of it to show their boss. 
When Nancy showed the men at the newspaper what they found, they had all laughed and belittled her. 
As Jonathan tells the story, he shakes his head in anger. “They were horrible to her, bug.”
You sigh, feeling awful for Nancy as well. “She’s smarter than all those men combined. She deserves better.”
“She does,” Jonathan shakes his head again. “But Tom, our boss, ordered her to drop the story. But Nancy…”
“Refuses to back down?” You guess, knowing how stubborn and passionate the girl is.
Jonathan swallows. “Yeah.”
“What happened tonight, Jonathan?” You sense there’s something he isn’t telling you, that there’s more to this than just men being shitty to Nancy at work.
“Nance, she–uh. She wouldn’t back down, even after I told her I was scared we’d get fired if we kept investigating Mrs. Driscoll, but she–she needed to prove she was right and I just–I can never tell her no. She’s relentless, ambitious, it’s what I love about her, but… Y/N, we found Mrs. Driscoll eating fertilizer after breaking into her house.”
“Oh my god,” you gasp and drop Jonathan’s hand. “Is she okay? What happened?”
“I don’t know.” Jonathan clenches his jaw. “We called for help and they took her to the hospital. When I dropped Nancy off at home, she… She wants to go visit the woman in the hospital.”
You’re silent for a moment, now understanding why Jonathan seems so shaken up. “Nancy still wants her story.”
“She does.”
“And you think she’s going too far.”
“I do.”
You sigh. “Jonathan…”
“I don’t know what to do, Y/N!” He raises his voice now, his anger surfacing. “I mean, we could get fired and she doesn’t seem to care! When Tom finds out that we’re the ones who put Mrs. Driscoll in the hospital… I–I can’t lose this job, bug. I can’t. Especially not because of some douchebags my girlfriend wants to prove wrong.”
As Jonathan unravels, your heart aches for both him and Nancy. It’s a tough situation, you understand both sides, and you can’t imagine having to go through any of it. 
Sighing, you grab his hand again and try to find the right words. “You have every right to feel scared, bee. I completely understand, this job means so much more to you than just some summer activity like it does for Nancy, but…” You bite your lip, worried you’ll say the wrong thing. “I also think Nancy’s ambition is admirable. From the stories she’s told me, those men are fucking vile and treat her like shit. I think you should try being more supportive of her.”
“How am I supposed to be supportive if I lose my job?”
You sigh again. “By holding her hand and recognizing that while it’s hard being poor in this world, it’s also hard being a woman. Both of you have a reason to be upset, and while I’m not saying it’s fair of Nancy to disregard your financial situation, I think you both need to sit down and talk about this without the other getting defensive.”
Jonathan rolls his eyes. “Neither one of us gets defensive.”
“You two are the most defensive and prideful people I’ve ever met, it’s a miracle you haven’t fought until now.”
He laughs at this, knowing you’re right. “Maybe another conversation wouldn’t hurt… I just, what’s going to happen tomorrow?”
You shrug. “I can’t tell you that, but I can tell you that you’ll need Nancy just as much as she’ll need you, okay?”
“It frustrates me how you always manage to say the right thing.”
“You’ve known me for years now, it’s your fault for not getting used to it.” 
Jonathan laughs again and his shoulders relax, his anger and fear now dissipating. While he’s still unsure what tomorrow will bring, he knows that at least he’ll have you. Then the two of you drive past Steve’s house and Jonathan remembers how tired you sounded earlier on the phone.
“So, we gonna talk about why you had such a long day today?” Though it’s phrased as a question, you know that Jonathan understands if you don’t want to answer.
However, your own fears weigh heavily on your mind and you indulge him, because you always do. “Dustin intercepted a Russian code a few days ago and roped Steve, Robin, and I into helping him decipher it.”
“A Russian code?”
“Yeah. Not sure if I can explain it any better than that, honestly.”
Jonathan raises his eyebrows at you. “Is it anything dangerous?”
“I don’t know,” you groan, dropping your head into your knees. “That’s the million dollar question right now. Dustin and everyone else wants to keep investigating this, they want to break into a goddamn vault, and I just… I have a bad feeling about this, bee.”
“What does Steve think about all of this?” His voice is light, but his hands tighten ever so slightly on the steering wheel. You see this and look away, knowing he won’t like what you’re about to say.
“He’s why I sounded so tired earlier,” you confess, eyes closed. “He wouldn’t listen to me tonight, and I just–”
You stop mid sentence, your words catching in your throat. Jonathan looks over at you with concern and makes a quick decision to pull to the side of the road and park. “Hey, bug. Look at me.” Swallowing back tears, you do as you’re told. When your eyes meet his, Jonathan brings your hand to his lips. “Talk to me.”
“I’m terrified he’ll be another ‘almost.”
Jonathan’s lips ghost over your hands and you feel his breath stutter slightly at your words. He knows the pain that comes with “almost”, he knows he’s the reason why the word stings your tongue as you say it out loud. “He’s not another ‘almost’, Y/N.”
“I don’t know anymore.” Tears start to fall down your face and you’re mortified. You hate the words coming out of your mouth, they feel like a betrayal to Steve and the promise you made him, and you hate that you’re saying all this to Jonathan. “He–he seems interested, sometimes, but it’s July now and–and he hasn’t… He couldn’t even look me in the eye tonight, Jonathan.”
Jonathan doesn’t say anything. He can’t say anything. 
You’re crying in his passenger seat over a boy you love, a boy who isn’t him, and all Jonathan can do is hold your hands as you cry. 
“I’m sorry, bug.” He apologizes for more than just your upset over Steve. Jonathan apologizes for it all, for the years between you two, for the almosts and what if’s and missed chances.
“Yeah. I am, too.” You wipe your eyes, embarrassed now. “Can you, uh, take me home, please?”
Jonathan nods and wordlessly starts the car again.
It feels like last year, back to being unsure about love and relationships and being exhausted by it all, and you can’t help but laugh at the irony of it. The small laugh turns into a louder one, then into full body hysterics, and Jonathan worries for a second that you’ve lost your mind. “Y/N, you’re scaring me a little.”
You clutch at your stomach and laugh even harder. “S-sorry, I just–oh my god. I can’t believe I–I’m here again.”
“I’m lost.”
“Just drive, bee.” You try to calm yourself down, though giggles still rise through your chest. You think you’re delirious, honestly. 
Yet some things never change, and it feels good to be in Jonathan’s car and breathless from laughter, even if your heart aches as you do so. 
-
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disneyprincemuke · 2 days
Text
you don't get to tell me about sad * fem!driver
outtakes of her year that i didn't know where to fit lol so this is the last(ish) angst installment
pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver, max verstappen x fem!driver
notes: iM BACK BABYYY
(series masterlist) | (📂 2025: fall from grace)
(prev)
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so she runs from her garage again. just another weekend where everything has skewed from what was discussed and there is no reasoning to be done.
she finished the race damn near last over a pitstop that ran longer than it should have.
the minute sebastian could not spew an excuse she would hear out was the minute she stopped listening to him during the race. and honestly, it was the only way she could salvage not finishing last of the pack.
“let’s talk about it,” sebastian says, hurriedly chasing her down as she storms into the racing home, her presence immediately silencing the chatter in the room. “let me talk you through what happened. it’s not your fault.”
“i know it’s not!” her distress is made known, echoing in the air of the room. she stops in her tracks and turns to face sebastian still by the door, flinching back. “how could that be my fault? i was doing my end of the bargain as a driver!”
he takes a deep breath. “rocky, just listen to me, okay?”
“it’s not fair! none of this weekend was my fault!” she shrieks, turning back around and trudging up the stairs loudly. “the team fucked me over, that’s what happened! i can’t possibly think of a reason you could come up with to excuse what happened!”
“i’m not excusing it, i’m just–”
“oh, god, sebastian!” she stomps her foot on the ground to demand sebastian’s attention. which surprisingly works. “just admit it — the team fucked me over. point blank period, that’s literally what happened.”
sebastian sucks in a deep breath. “yes, we did. and we’re extremely sorry. but–”
“’but’ again,” she laughs dryly, rolling her eyes. she makes a sharp turn for her driver’s room and holds a hand up to stop the step he tries to take towards her. “take your apology to the headlines being drafted about me as we go in circles over this, sebastian.”
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“you know i’m not breaking up with you,” matt says amidst the silence that they’ve been sitting in as he packs his bag. “i just need a break.”
“from me,” she points out shakily, dropping her head low.
“from this cycle.” he lifts his head and sits back to look at her.
she sits on the edge of her bed, feet hovering slightly over the floor. she watches her feet swing slightly, counting in her head, desperate not to lose the last remaining sanity she feels she has.
initially, she sat in the vacant room in tears, refusing to watch him pack up to leave her all alone in her apartment. she wallowed in her woes in a dark corner before she eventually dragged herself back into her bedroom.
she’s been sitting here watching him in silence ever since, trying to find the words in her head to say something to him.
maybe he’ll change his mind; maybe he’ll stay if she says the right thing.
“yeah, i get that.”
“i don’t think you do.” he stands from his position on the ground and walks over to her on the bed. he takes the empty spot next to her, resting his hand above hers that grips the mattress tightly. he feels her grip loosen slightly. “i still love you, bub.”
she shakes her head with a sigh. “i would have stopped a long time ago if i were you. i’m not very nice.”
“it doesn’t work like that,” he squeezes her hand, “you’re having a hard time. i get that and it’s okay. but i want you to want the help i’m giving you. i’m not going to force it on you if you’re just going to keep pushing me away when i try.”
“i don’t know why i keep doing that,” she admits with a scoff. she drops her back on the bed behind her and looks up at the ceiling of her bedroom. “i’m not usually like this, i promise. i’m better than this.”
“i know.” matt mirrors her actions and drops himself on the mattress.
she wants to say she’s sorry and that she’s thankful for him sticking around longer than he had to. it’s at the edge of her tongue but she simply cannot get herself to admit that she’s wrong. that perhaps this time, someone is finally right about her.
“do you, really?” she hums, “i’m the worst.”
“i think you should give yourself a little more credit,” he sighs, reaching out for her hand again. this time, she moves her hand away before he can grab it. “i’ll come home soon, okay? i’ll come back for you, i promise.”
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she repeats in her head the gameplan she’d drafted with sebastian. the one that seemed so foolproof all weekend that made her believe she could turn it all around.
instead, she’s standing on the grass next to her wrecked car, another unfortunate mishap she’s sure would make her talk of the town again.
she puts her hands on her hips as her eyes trail over to her blown tyre. then she remembers that her crash wasn’t caused all by herself.
“are you alright?” charles asks softly, slowly approaching her as he takes his helmet off. “unlucky weekend.”
she glances over her shoulder where he approaches her. she forces a small grin to her face and tries to wave his concerns away. “i’m fine.”
her chest starts to hurt slightly, tears prickling at her eyes.
this is not the time and place to be breaking down. especially not at someone like charles because surely, something went wrong with her that caused this.
“it’s my fau–”
surely, it can’t be his fault. there’s no way that the person she’s looked up could cause this crash.
but there’s also a voice in her head telling her to believe charles. he wouldn’t be apologising if he didn’t actually think that he caused it.
“unfortunate,” she chuckles. she swallows the scream threatening to make itself known and shrugs at charles. “i’ll see you in the paddocks, mate.”
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“thought i might find you here.”
“fuck off, max.”
the older driver laughs, walking over to her with hands in the pocket of his jeans. he drops himself on the little platform she’s resting on.
“everyone’s looking for you,” max chuckles, innocently taking a sip from his water bottle. “i heard seb panicking and sending out a search party to get you.”
“i know,” she snorts, “i heard him screaming and delegating people to find me.”
the only reason max knew where to find her is because he is the one who introduced her to this place. he had found her holding her tears in at some point last season walking around the paddocks and he whisked her away without another word.
it’s a pretty obscure location in the paddocks, one that max often resided in when it got too chaotic and loud. she’s the only one he’s ever given this sort of information to.
“how’s everything?” he asks with a sigh, leaning back on the wall behind them. “matt flew back to the states already?”
she nods and drops her head, picking at the grass beneath them. while she truly tried to keep her problems to herself, max approached her a week prior when he saw her entering the paddocks all by herself.
he had asked why the man, typically found on her arm every race weekend, was not with her today.
she softly admitted that they’re on a break, prompted by her reactionary behaviour from how her year is going so far. still, she tries to keep the confession minimal.
it’s hard enough to watch your boyfriend pack his things in silence to leave you behind. it’s even harder to admit that there’s nobody else to blame but yourself.
her mishaps every weekend on the paddocks, she can point all the fingers she wants. but when it came to her matt, there was nobody else she could pin it on. there were 2 people in that relationship and she knows that she’s the one that’s burned it down.
“i’m so sorry,” max sighs, resting his cheek in his hand. he props his elbow on his knee as she leans forward. “that must be really hard for you.”
she shrugs. it’s really not that big of a deal. or, at least, it shouldn’t be to somebody else in a happy relationship of his own. “it’s my fault, anyway. i don’t blame him.”
“you can still be upset about it,” he mutters. “i know you love him, so i don’t imagine any of this is making you feel better at all.” he puts a hand on her back and rubs circles, something he honestly wishes someone had done for him when he was younger. “it’s just me, mate.”
“it’s alright, but thanks for trying to be there for me,” she grimaces, turning momentarily to give him a small smile. “but i don’t reckon i get to feel bad for deliberately pushing him over the edge.”
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she’d been fine all day. she thought she was genuinely getting better: she’d even gone for a walk in the sun and felt enlightened most of the hours she’d been awake.
that was until she had sat down at her dining table with dinner, consumed whole by the silence and emptiness of her apartment. without understanding why, she lost her appetite as her stomach started to churn.
her heart feels like it’s skipping beats from how unwell she suddenly felt.
she finds herself on the floor of her bedroom, phone pressed up against her ear as the ringing pulls her in and out of her trance.
her world has spinning for the better part of 5 minutes, her chest feeling like it’s closing in on itself and the framed picture in her peripheral vision taunts her.
there’s no climbing out of this rut; she’s almost sure she will be stuck in here forever. she either lives with the fact that she’s a failure or it’ll someday kill her.
“hello? is this really you?”
tears she hadn’t realised were there start to fall out of her eyes. the sob she didn’t know she had in her throat fills the room as she drops her head into her other hand.
“i don’t know why i called,” she pauses with a soft sob, “sorry, i should go.”
“no,” a firm voice demands, “just stay on the line.”
“okay.”
she had just spoken with matt this morning, on a short 5-minute welfare check video call. she told him she was feeling slightly better with the biggest smile on her face.
now she doubts herself if she’d even meant it. if she was truly better, she wouldn’t be here on the floor feeling worse than when she woke up this morning.
going backwards isn’t supposed to be the way she’s going.
it’s always forward. if there’s no progress towards the betterment of her situation, then she’s simply not trying hard enough.
she should try harder. it’s the only way.
“hey,” matt coos softly to catch her attention. “if you need me there, just say the word. i’ll come home.”
she wants to say yes. she even wants to break into a louder sob and admit that she misses him; probably might even be going crazy without his presence as of late.
she hasn’t got anything figured out.
but instead, she says, “i’ll be okay.”
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being alone in her hotel room is the last thing she wanted for herself, the silence too overbearing for her to handle. though asking to hang out with her friends she watched leave together to get dinner wasn’t an option either.
so she opted to lock herself in her driver’s room until someone chases her out. perhaps she’ll sleep over without anybody finding out.
she’d coddled herself up in her beanbag under a blanket, reading away furiously on the things people said about her.
sure, she shouldn’t be on these sites speaking ill of her, but there’s nobody to stop her. she’s fallen down the rabbit hole of everyone’s opinions of her once more and she can’t seem to stop.
she’s stooped even lower this time: she’s on social media reading what the public has to say about her.
it’s not just about whoever in the industry is saying now.
she never tried to let anyone’s opinion of her, in forms of tweets and social media posts, get to her much.
but a post highlighting about the two mere instances where she had unintentionally lashed out on matt in the paddocks did it for her. and the one time she had a disagreement with sebastian in her racing home after a pitstop mishap.
“for fuck’s sake,” she cries, throwing the blanket off her.
she can’t throw her ipad. she starts to heave, feeling it all coming down on her once more.
she grabs the closest thing to her. and unfortunately, it’s the very mug she’d gotten 2 years ago as a present for sebastian.
you know, the matching mugs she got as a celebration for scoring points as a race engineer and driver duo on the grid.
and it does what a mug would do if you threw it against the wall: it shatters. into pieces.
it’s repairable if she really thought about it rationally. the handle has popped out along with another large piece straying by its side.
only then she realises what she’s done.
“oh, fuck.” she sits hurriedly and brushes the stray hairs from her face. “oh, no.”
she scrambles from the ground and runs over to the other side of the room where her favourite mug sits in 3 separate pieces, tears prickling at her eyes as she realises what she’s done.
she gathers it into her hands with a heavy cry, dropping her hands into her lap. if she’d known sooner that this mug was what she’d grabbed out of fury, she wouldn’t have chucked it across the room.
“come on,” she whispers to herself, trying to fit the pieces together as if it would magically mend itself. “fix yourself. be a mug again?”
“i thought you were back at the hotel– are you okay?”
“i didn’t mean to do it,” she cries at the familiar voice and accent, lifting her head and hands to show him what she’s done. “i didn’t mean to, i didn’t even realise what i was throwing until it broke into this many pieces.”
“hey,” sebastian coos, softly closing the door behind him. he walks over to where she kneels on the ground and grabs her shoulder. “you’re okay. it’s okay.”
she shakes her head profusely and rests her head on his shoulder. “i didn’t mean it. i didn’t want to break it — i still like you, i promise. you’re like my dad when we’re on the road. i’m s– i didn’t mean it.”
“relax.” he squeezes her shoulder, pressing a firm kiss to her temple. “it’s just a mug. we’ll just get a new one, okay? don’t even worry about it.”
he waits for a second as she processes his words, slightly hesitant to agree with him. she nods slowly, “are you sure? you’re not mad?”
“i’m not mad,” sebastian hums with a smile. “let’s get you back to your hotel room, okay? i was just about to head out.”
“okay.”
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hgfictionwriter · 1 day
Text
Long Distance Call
Jessie Fleming x Reader
Summary: Jessie and you are doing the long distance thing. What's she to do when you surprise her with a fun photo?
Warning: Smut. Phone sex. Explicit language!
A/N: Based on this request.
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“Alright, everyone. Settle in. We have a big game this Friday and we’ve got lots to go through to prepare. Let’s look at some footage.”
Jessie was honed in on the analysis until she felt her phone buzz in her back pocket. Coach was addressing the defenders, so Jessie took the opportunity to check.
Jessie had to stifle a gasp, nearly choking in the process as she shot straight up in her chair so aggressively that it caused the chair to scrape loudly against the floor. The noise immediately drew curious looks from the team.
“Sorry,” she offered quietly as a deep blush began to radiate off her cheeks.
It wasn’t the “Morning, baby 🥰” message that’d caught her so off guard. It was the accompanying picture of your mostly naked body that had her shook.
She’d alluded to wanting photos like this, you know, for some added inspiration while you were apart, but you’d never followed through - until now.
Jessie subconsciously cleared her throat as she settled back into her seat. It took valiant effort to not fidget and squirm as heat was now pooling in a totally different area than her face.
She chewed the inside of her cheek as she tried desperately to refocus on game day tactics, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t thinking of how she was going to get you back for messing with her. Mostly though, she thought of how she wanted to fuck you ragged until you could barely think and the only words coming from your mouth would be her name.
But she couldn’t. Not a while anyway. She swallowed her irritation and frustration. Long distance sucked.
“What was that all about?”
Janine’s overly intrigued query caught Jessie’s attention as the blonde fell into step with her as they were all leaving the meeting. Of course Janine had to inquire.
“Nothing really. A reminder came through on my phone and I thought I’d missed something, but it’s all good,” Jessie fibbed.
“Uh huh,” Janine responded, clearly not buying it, but benevolently let it go. “So, what are you up to tonight?”
“Dreaming of fucking my girlfriend silly,” Jessie thought.
“Not much. Maybe a bit more prep for the game, but I’m pretty tired, so it’ll be a low key evening,” she said instead. “You?”
“It’s date night,” Janine said with a bright smile. A moment later she offered an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I know it’s hard with Y/N so far away. How many weeks until you see her again?”
“5,” Jessie responded without missing a beat. She could even tell Janine the exact number of days if she’d asked, and there was a countdown on Jessie’s lock screen to prove it.
“It’ll go by quickly,” Janine said with dogged positivity. Jessie nodded and gave her a half smile.
“I know.”
Laughter suddenly erupted from a group of their teammates, drawing Janine’s attention away and leaving Jessie to fall back enough to find some privacy. When she was sure she was alone, she opened your text once more.
She inhaled deeply as she took in the image and a smirk tugged at her lips. She replied.
“Best text ever. Well, surprising - I opened it during analysis, btw! You look so fucking sexy. I miss you so much. I can’t express it. I wish I was coming home to you.”
She locked her screen and was about to leave when her phone buzzed again.
“That would be too much fun 😘. I wish I was waiting at home for you.”
Jessie expelled a slow, shaky breath. It was going to be a long afternoon.
By the time Jessie got home, the heat between her legs had only gotten worse. The image of you was burned in her mind and she kept replaying past times you made love and kept envisioning what she’d do to you if you were around.
She dropped her bag by the front door and immediately opened up the picture you sent.
“Fuck,” she breathed as she took you in.
She walked over to the couch and sat down heavily on it and immediately tucked a hand underneath the waistband of her shorts and into her underwear.
“Jesus,” she muttered when she felt how wet she was just from picturing you. She ran her fingers through her folds and dipped them briefly inside. The wet sounds each motion made would’ve made her blush on some occasions, but not today. She drew her fingers back and began circling her clit as she looked at your naked body.
She was releasing a heavy breath when her phone suddenly vibrated and a notification came up startling her. She drew her hand out of her shorts immediately and her heart raced until her mind caught up, realizing it was you calling.
She took a few deep breaths before she answered.
“Hey babe,” she said, still feeling hot and flustered in a couple of ways.
“Hi baby,” you greeted cheerfully. “How was training?”
“Uh, good,” Jessie said, a bit stilted in her reply as she tried to refocus. “Yeah, it was a long day, but good. How was yours?”
“The day was fine,” you answered easily. “I missed you. In case you couldn’t tell.”
“Jesus Christ,” Jessie breathed as she was brought right back to what she was doing a moment ago. “That was,” she struggled to find the words, “so hot. I was not expecting that at all. But holy shit - you are so sexy.”
“Yeah? Well, I have to make sure you miss me, too,” you joked.
“No challenge there.” Jessie breathed heavy into the phone.
“Well, if I can’t be there in person, the least I can do is give you some inspiration.” You told her in a flirtatious tone. Jessie gave a breathy chuckle.
“Mission accomplished.”
“Mmm, is that so?” You asked, a lilt in your voice. “Tell me more.”
“Um,” Jessie felt her cheeks start to warm. “You’re just super sexy.” She paused momentarily before relenting, lowering her voice unnecessarily to a near-whisper. “And I was definitely wet.”
You didn’t skip a beat. “Mm, baby. Tell me more. Did you think you were wet or did you confirm?”
Jessie blushed further. “Confirmed,” she nearly mumbled.
“God. I wish I was between your legs right now. I’d love to taste you and see for myself just how wet you are.”
“Jesus Christ.” Jessie’s voice was raspy and she fidgeted in place as the need between her legs was reignited and began to pulse once more. She cleared her throat quietly and added, “Pretty fucking wet.”
“Right now?” You asked. Jessie hummed a bit before replying.
“Maybe.”
“Ugh, baby, don’t tease me,” you told her and she responded with a short laugh.
“Excuse me? Who’s teasing who here?”
“You know, for someone who wanted nudes and finally got one, you seem to be complaining,” you joked, knowing she’d offer an immediate rebuttal.
“I’m not! I fucking loved it. And yes, I’m wet right now,” Jessie countered. She fidgeted again and went on in a hushed voice. “In fact, I was…you know, doing stuff, when you called.”
“Jesus,” you said with a sharp inhale. “Now that is the sexiest thing. Oh my god, Jess.” She could hear the satisfied grin in your voice. “Don’t let me stop you,” you went on in a soft voice. “Maybe I can even help you.”
“Yeah?” Jessie asked, shifting her jaw subconsciously and very intrigued now. “How so, baby?”
“Imagine it’s my hand between your legs. Lower the phone and let me hear how wet I make you,” you instructed.
Jessie grit her teeth, eyes rolling into the back of her head already at the events that were unfolding. She gave you want you wanted; lowering the phone and dipping her fingers back through her slick folds. Her arousal was obvious right away.
She held the phone back up, but began to circle her clit.
“Holy fuck, Jessie. That was so incredibly sexy. I’m aching for you - I need you so bad.”
“Fuck, baby,” Jessie breathed, a lazy smile tugging at the corner of her lips. She rubbed her clit with a firmer touch and rocking her hips up in slow gyrations. “I was so wet at training too just thinking about what I’d do to you if you were here.”
“Baby, please, tell me,” you pleaded. You heard her chuckle softly, but you detected how her breathing grew heavier in your ear.
“Only if you’re a good girl,” Jessie smirked. “Touch yourself for me. Two fingers - tracing around your clit and between your lips. Dip them down until you can tell me how wet you are for me.”
“Oh my God.” You nearly panted. Jessie often took control in the bedroom, but you hadn’t explored this facet of it before. Hearing her speak like this was unexpected, but so sexy. You did as you were told and moaned softly into the phone. “Baby, I’m dripping wet,” you told her as you drew your fingers back up and the tips were covered in your juices.
Jessie groaned into the phone and bit her lip.
“Just what I like to hear,” she affirmed as she continued to rub circles around her swollen clit. “God, I miss fucking you.”
You groaned in need and agreement as you continued to run your fingers through your lips and grazing your clit. “Me too, baby. My fingers and toys just aren’t the same.”
Jessie breathed heavy as a satisfied grin crossed her face. “Damn right they’re not.” She moaned faintly as her hips bucked against her hand. “If you were here, I’d have you on your back, legs on my shoulders as I pin you down, and I’d be knuckle deep in you.” She dipped her fingers inside of herself and her eyes fluttered shut. “God, I can feel your cum all over my fingers. And you know I love the way you start to pool around my knuckles and in my palm.”
“Jess,” you panted. “Oh my god. Keep going. I love the way you fill me up. The way you fit perfectly inside of me, stretching me just right.”
“Fuck, baby,” Jessie breathed as she went back to rocking her hips against her fingers on her clit. “You’re perfect for me. I’d be stroking you hard and deep. I’d be pumping my whole body against yours I’d be fucking you so hard. The bed would bang against the wall every time I bottom out inside of you, pushing you deeper into the mattress.”
“Oh god, Jessie, you fuck me so good,” you praised. You could vividly picture the prideful and smug look on her face and it turned you on even more.
People loved talking about how humble Jessie was. But when it came to fucking and pleasing you, there was nothing humble about her. And frankly, you wouldn’t have it any other way.
“I love when you say my name,” Jessie said, her voice growing strained as her breathing continued to pick up. She grinned once more. “But I love it even more when you scream it.”
You moaned loudly into the phone, letting your head fall back as you rubbed your clit harder and faster.
“So make me,” you challenged her.
Jessie groaned, biting her lip again, her back arching off the couch. “I love you so much,” she breathed with a laugh of appreciation. “Baby, you know I’d be hitting your sweet spot with every stroke. I’d be making sure that every time I fill you to the hilt I’m sending a wave of pleasure through your whole body. My thumb’s on your clit, circling and rubbing it. And after I kiss you deeply, my lips hard on yours, I’ll kiss your neck.
“I won’t mean to suck on your skin too hard, but feeling you buck and writhe beneath me, moaning in my ear as I pump in and out of you makes me fucking feral for you. Like I can’t get close enough or love you hard enough. I mark you, but I don’t feel so bad about it because that’s how much I want you, to the point where I can’t control myself.
“When you moan as I latch down on your neck, I push a third finger inside of you. You wrap around me tightly, but you’re so fucking wet I just slip in. Feeling your walls grip me and pulse around me as I move nearly sends me into a frenzy.”
“Jesus Christ, Jess. I’m so close,” you warn her, your voice high and faint.
“I can feel your body start to tense up. Your legs start to shake and your breath quickens as I continue. I curl my fingers inside of you, relishing each punctuated moan you release each time I make contact. Your arousal is pooling on the sheets now as I’m driving my hips into you. I’m absolutely soaked because of how sexy and beautiful you are beneath me.”
“Holy shit. Jessie.” Your eyes screwed shut and her name was loud and strained as your climax hit. “I’m cumming.”
“Umph,” Jessie moaned as she bit her lip. “Baby girl. So fucking hot,” she said as she bucked her hips against her fingers which desperately rubbed her sensitive clit. The tightening sensation deep in her core built rapidly as she heard you cumming in her ear and she envisioned your body against hers.
A tight groan worked its way up Jessie’s throat as her core began to pulsate. Her hips jerked against her fingers as she brought herself over the edge.
You both whimpered and breathed heavy into the phone as you rode out your joint orgasms. Jessie’s chest heaved up and down and she slumped into the couch, her underwear thoroughly soaked through and too lazy to remove her hand from them. She could barely hold up the phone and had yet to open her eyes. Eventually, you spoke.
“Babe. That was insane. And totally incredible,” you relayed in pure appreciation and admiration. “You’re amazing.”
Jessie chuckled languidly, slowly opening her eyes.
“Amazing what one can do with a great muse.”
You laughed. “Well, I have to say, long distance may not be quite so unbearable if we have repeats like this.”
“I’ll take care of you, baby,” Jessie assured you. “You send me fun photos, and I promise I’ll take good care of you. Deal?”
“Deal.” You agreed with a breathy laugh.
“For real though,” Jessie started, “I really miss you. I love you, you know that, right?”
Again, you chuckled. Of course you knew. And you knew how lucky you were too.
“I know, baby. I love you, too. And I miss you more than you know.”
311 notes · View notes
qrrieterisunnq · 1 day
Text
Accidents - Jack Hughes
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jack!hughes x amara!james
SUMMARY: Six situations when Amara thinks she made a bad impression on the Hughes family and one when they tell her, she’s the missing puzzle that missed in their family
WARNINGS: anxiety, crying, fluff, Amara’s clumsiness, comforting Jack, unedited
ORD COUNT: 7,32K
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I worked on this for a really long time and I just hope you'll like it!
PART OF STRAWBERRY GIRL AU
strawberry girl masterlist
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— 1. SHE FALLS FROM THE STAIRS
The rays of the sun that managed to pass through the blinds are now falling on her boyfriend's face. He looks so peaceful, lying here in his bed in the lake house, surrounded by his family, his loved ones. She has noticed he is more relaxed than he was during the season.
Amara knows pretty well how much stress is pressed on him. Jack is the type of person, who always blames himself for the team's losses. She knows him well, and when he was out with an upper-body injury she saw how hard he took that his team was really bad on it.
Now, he is lying next to her, his features relaxed and softened, she hadn’t seen him like this in many months. Smiling she traces her finger across his cheeks, down his jaw, and to his neck, where she stops, resting her hand here.
“You know I can feel you staring?” his raspy morning voice touches her ears. A small smile tugged at his lips as her fingers danced on the skin of his neck.
“I know, I’m just admiring your handsome face.” She whispers, placing soft kisses on his chest.
“Yeah?” he whispers out, his eyes still closed. He tightens his grip on her, pulling her more onto him. “You think I’m handsome?”
“Why else would I be with you?” she says teasingly, a grin forming on her lips as she watches him open one eye, to look at her, immediately closing it because of the sun.
“Oh, I thought you were with me because of my hockey career and money.” He chuckles teasingly, tickling her sides gently.  
“Yeah, that too,” she laughs pinching his cheek. “But you're hot and I wanted to prove to myself, and actually to others, that someone like me can have a hot guy.”
“You, know, you can have every guy you want,” he whispers, kissing her forehead. “You’re hot. You’re the most incredible woman I’ve ever met. You’re kind to everyone, even though you don’t like them. And the way you’re with kids, every kid loves you so much. And when you help retirees cross the crosswalk, I don't understand how such an angel can exist on earth.” A loving smile resting on his lips.
“We should get up,” she rolls off from him after a few minutes just staring at each other. “Everyone is probably awake, it's 8:50.” You murmur as you slip out of bed, walking over to the closet to get out her red bikini and Jack’s shirt with his baseball shorts.
Jack sits on the edge of the bed watching her dress up. A slap lands on her right ass cheek when she’s putting on the bikini bottom.
“Mine.” He growls, kneading her ass.  
“Yours.” She slaps his hands away, throwing his shirt and shorts on him.
“Hurry up, I’m hungry!” she says as she walks over to the bathroom, to wash her face and make her skincare routine.
Jack chuckles to himself, as he watches Amara walk in the bathroom, her hips swaying, causing a groan left his lips.
“Little tease.” He mumbles to himself shaking his head as he pulls the shirt over his head, a smile never leaving his lips. He doesn’t understand, how he manages to be loved by this amazing woman. With a smile, he walks over to the bathroom, leaning against the doorframe as he watches Amara sway her hips and hum a song under her nose. “Looking amazing, Berry!” watching her bend over the sink, as she washed her face from the cleanser.
“Thank you.” She grins up at him, water dripping from her face.
“Okay, I’m going down, okay,” Jack smiled at her, caressing her back. “When you’re done, come, I’ll make you a plate with food.”
“Thank you, baby.” A grateful smile lingers on her lips as she watches his back as he leaves his room.
As soon as she’s done with her skincare routine, she gets on the shirt and shorts she prepared earlier, takes her phone from the nightstand, and makes her way out of the room.
Looking down at her phone, she starts stepping down the stairs, chuckling over a message she just received on Tumblr, from one of her friends. Not careful enough, she trips over her leg. Her eyes grew wide, when she saw the stairs in front of her face, falling straight on them. She yelps in pain, as she rolls down the stairs.
“Amara!” Jack's eyes widen in horror as he sees his girlfriend falling down the stairs. He gets from the chair abruptly, causing it to fall with a thud, but he doesn’t care as he runs to her, dropping to his knees, and immediately pulling her in him. “What happened?” he asks her, but she doesn’t answer tears rolling down her cheeks her eyes closed shut. “Are you hurt?” She slowly shakes her head but winces in pain.
“Her knees.” Luke points to her blooded knees while he’s sitting next to her looking for other injuries.
“I’m coming for the first Aid kit,” Ellen says, rushing over to the kitchen, Jim following right behind her.
“Baby, look at me!” Jack let out desperately. He needs to see she’s okay. “Please.” He begs, caressing her cheek. She turns at him, her eyes red from the tears and her lips turned into a frown.
“My legs hurt.” She cries out, hiding her face in Jack’s chest.
“I know, baby, I know,” he sighs kissing the top of her head. “We’ll clean it up, and it’ll be alright, okay, love?” He coos her kissing her tears away. She nods her head, taking in a deep breath.
“So, ebfarfasing.” She mumbles in his chest, inhaling his scent.
“What?” Jack looks at Amara confused.
“We’re here!” Ellen shouts dropping to her knees next to Amara. “This will hurt a little honey!” sadness in her voice while she pulls out disinfection and cotton squares and plaster with spiderman. They all laugh at that. “Okay, this will sting a little bit.” She pours a little of the disinfection on the cotton square, carefully placing it on Amara’s blooded knees.
“Ow!” she winces, gripping Jack and Quinn’s hands hard.
“It’ll be okay, love,” Jack says painfully. He hates seeing his girl in pain. He is used to her clumsiness, but something like this has never happened, till today. Every time something was about to happen, he was there to catch her before she fell, he was there to catch the thing, that was about to break, or other things. This time, he wasn’t here, and that made him sick. “Just a minute.”
Amara leans into his chest, biting hard on her lower lip, when Ellen puts more disinfection on her wounds.
“Almost done, Ara!” Ellen announced sticking out her hand for Jim to place the plasters in. She places a clean square on the wound, which is then covered with a plaster. “There you go!”
“Thank you, Mrs. Hughes,” Amara says politely, wiping her tears away.
“No need, honey.” Ellen pats her tight, she stands up, with Jim's help, not that she needs any help, and takes the first aid kit with her to the kitchen.
“Luke, Quinn, please leave us alone for a minute. We’ll come to the breakfast in a minute,” Jack asks them, a concerned look on his face. He needs to know what happened, that she fell.
“Yeah, sure.” Quinn nods, he stands up, dragging Luke away.
“Amara, what happened?” Jack slightly caresses her legs, turning her around so he can see her facial expressions.
“I—I uhm…I wasn’t paying attention. I was on my phone, laughing over one message and my leg slipped or something, and then I was down.” A nervous laugh leaves her mouth, as she looks at him from under her lashes.
“Berry, you have to be more careful,” a sigh left his mouth just when he placed his hands on her tights. “I’m not here all the time to save you.”
“I know, it’s just hard with my personality and everything.” Guilt was written over her face, her eyes never leaving his.
There is comfortable silence between the two of them, as they stare into each other's eyes, when Amara’s eyes widen and she hides her head in her hands, groaning. “This is so embarrassing,” tears forming in her eyes. “They’ll think I'm completely stupid and can't even walk down the stairs.” One tear slipped over the edge rolling down her cheek.
“Oh, no baby, they won’t,” Jack wipes the tear away giving her a reassuring look. “They already love you, and they know you have ADHD. I know it wasn’t my place to tell them, but mom asked me about you a lot, and my brothers follow you on Instagram and know about it, so…” he trails off, smiling lovingly at her.
“No, that’s okay, I get it.” She kissed his lips quickly and rested his forehead on his. “And thank you.” You smile at him softly, looking deep into his blue eyes.
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— 2. SHE ACCIDENTALLY DROPS THE BOTTLE OF WINE
Sitting by the bonfire at the lake house with the Hughes family and the guys' friends is so comforting and calming for Amara. She’s snuggled in Jack’s arms, her eyes slightly closed as she breathes in his comforting scent and silently listens to their conversation.
She feels Jack drawing small patterns on her bare tight, as his chest moves with his beautiful laughter. A small smile tugged at her lips at the sound of his laughter. He pulls her more into him his chin resting on her shoulder, and his hands slide down on her ass holding her close to him.
“Do we have another beer?” Trevor asks, causing Amara’s eyes to shoot open. She straightens her back, rubbing her eyes. Jack shoots Trevor an unpleasant glare, that he woke her up.
“Yeah, it’s in the fridge,” Luke mumbles his eyes glutted to his phone as he’s hurriedly texting to someone. “I’ll get it, I want one too anyway.”
“No, you stay, I’ll get it!” Amara says quickly, trying to stand up from Jack’s lap. However, he pulls her back shaking his head.
“You ain’t going anywhere.” He mumbles in her ear, placing a soft kiss on her neck.
“No, it’s okay! I’m tired, so I’ll go to sleep after that.” smiling at him,  she kisses his lips and stands up. Slowly she makes her way into the house yawning.
Jack’s eyes are pinned on her back, watching her walk inside. Her hips sway slightly, and Jack’s shirt she’s wearing ends right below her ass, causing his cock to twitch in his shorts. He shook his head, throwing his thought to the back of his mind, his eyes moving to Trevor who’s smirking at him.
“What?” Jack asks him, brows furrowed in v shape, trying to search for some explanation in his eyes.
“Just, she’s kinda…” he starts waving his hands in the air, causing Jack's brows to furrow even more, as he waits for him to finish his sentence. “Unique, I guess. But I like her, she’s funny, smart, and hot, so,” a wide smile resting on Trevor’s lips as he watched Jack’s expression soften.  He likes the way he’s around Amara. He’s a completely new person. Good person. He’s laughing so much more often than he was before her, he’s shining with love and happiness, which makes Trevor so happy. He likes this new him.
“Thank you, Z,” he nods his head, relief written all over his face. He’s glad that his best friend likes her because she means the world to him. “Means a lot, that you like her.”
“I know, J. I’m glad you’re happy and in love.”
“That was cheesy, Trevor,” Jack laughs just like the rest of the guys, who were listening to them. “Even for you.”
“Oh, shut up, you asshole! I was confessing my feelings and you just had to make fun of me!” Trevor pouts his lips, causing the guys to laugh even more. While the guys are laughing, Amara is getting out the beers from the fridge on the counter, so she can take them out. She pulls out a wine bottle, to get out the rest of the beers, but when she wants to put it on the counter, the bottle slips down, shattering into a million pieces.
Amara immediately gets down, tears forming in her eyes at her clumsiness, as she starts picking up the pieces of glass. Her eyes snap up when she hears some footsteps running down the stairs and inside the house, cutting her palm. The first who find her are Jim and Ellen, who when she sees Amara sitting on the floor, her palm covered in blood while she’s still trying to collect the glass, run over to her, to get her on her feet, throwing the glass in her palms in the trash.
In a few seconds, the guys are inside too, Jack’s eyes wide in panic. What doesn’t help him, is the sight of Amara’s bloody hand.
“What happened, dear?” Ellen asks her in a steady whisper tone, to calm her down.
“I—I uhm… I went to get the beers for the boys, and I had to take the wine bottle out, to the last two, but… uhm… but the bottle slipped from the counter and fell down,” she whispers tears running down her cheeks, as Ellen, washes her hand from the blood to see the cut. “I’m so sorry, I’ll buy you a new—“ Ellen stops her, shaking her head.
“No need, darling. Things happen. I don’t care about the wine, I didn’t even like this one,” she chuckles, looking into Amara’s eyes. She let out a quiet laugh, wiping the tears from her face with her good hand. “Okay, it’s not deep, so I just put a plaster on it and I’m sure it’ll be fine in a few days.” Ellen caresses her arm, getting the plasters. At that moment, Jack makes his way to Amara, his hands taking hold of hers.
“You okay, love?”
“Yeah,” she nods, looking down at the floor. The boys already cleaned it, throwing the glass in the trash. “I’m sorry,” she sighs dropping her head down. “I’m just embarrassing you, in front of your family and friends.”
“Don’t,” he shook his head. “You’re not embarrassing me. And even if you were. I don’t care,” he lifts her chin upward, so he can see her eyes. “I love you, the way you are. And that won’t change, berry.” He leans in kissing her forehead but backs up when his mom comes with the first aid kit.
“Thank you, Mrs. Hughes.” She says the same phrase a second time during those two weeks.
“No need, Amara.” She caresses your cheek, sending her a comforting smile.  She looks around, trying to find her boy, but instead, she’s met with weird faces from everyone in the room except from Jack and Ellen.
Exactly what she thought. Everyone thinks she’s not enough for Jack and is just embarrassing him.
With head hung low she bid goodnight to everyone, ignoring Jack's look, she kissed his cheek quickly, walking to his room.
“Really, thanks, guys, you couldn't make it more obvious.” Jack shook his head, running up the stairs to his room.
“What did we do?” Luke looks around at his mom, a confused look on his face.
“You were staring, Luke. I thought you knew how she was when you knew her longer than the boys…” Ellen sighs, as she makes her way past the boys and Jim to their room, so she can go back to her sleep.
“I still don’t get it.” Luke sighs, leaning his back on the counter and looking at the boys and his dad.
“She was embarrassed, Luke, and you kept staring at her,” Quinn says, pouring water in a glass. “And I may not know her long, but I can see how hard she tries to get along with us, and how hard she wants us to like her,” He drinks up the water, heading slowly to the stairs. “Anyway, I’m tired, I'm gonna call it a day.” He says waving to them and making his way up to his room. When he walks past Jack's door, he stops to find out what's going on.
“Baby!” Jack’s voice is full of nervosity and fear. “No, stop! I said it before, and I tell it now. I don’t care if my friends or my family don’t like you. I love you the way you are.” Quinn can hear the love in Jack’s voice as he speaks to her. Also, he can hear the fear of losing the love of his life.
“No, Jack. One day, you’ll realize, just like your family and friends, that I’m not enough for you. And you’ll leave me.” Amara sobs, her voice is shaky and quiet.
“Fuck!” Quinn curses, his head hanging low. He can’t let this happen. He sees in Jack’s eyes how much he loves Amara. The way he always catches her, when she’s about to fall, or when he has his hand on her lower back when she’s balancing on the edge of the curb or on the edge of the outdoor fireplace.
“No, I won’t! Baby, you have to trust me! I love you with everything I have in my heart,” Quin can hear Amara’s sobs, which are slowly stopping. “I love you so much, my berry. So fucking much!” the tears are now hearable in Jack’s voice too.
“I love you too.” She chokes on her words. Jack can’t keep his hands off of her. He brings her into his embrace, peppering her face with kisses.
“I love you, I love you, I love you!” he mumbles after every kiss he plants on her face, making a laugh escape her lips. “I swear to god, if you ever say something like this again, I might die!” he whispers against her lips as he kisses her gently.
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— 3. SHE ALMOST DROWNS HERSELF IN THE LAKE
“MOM!” Luke yells when he gets on the boat, running towards you and his parents.
“What is it, Luke?” she sighs, looking up at him from her phone.
“Nothing.” He grins earning a smack from his dad on the back of his head. “Ow, what was that for?” he looks at Jim offended, scratching the back of his head.
“For being an asshole.” Jim grins at him.
“Amara, tell ‘em I’m not an asshole!” he looks at Amara, sitting next to her, pulling her in a hug, getting her all wet.
“Luke! You’re an asshole!” she squeaks, trying to get out of his hold. “Get off of me!” she laughs, smacking his bare chest when he doesn’t leave her.
“No! Not until you tell them I’m not an asshole!” he says, laughing with her when he tries to tickle her.
“Okay! Okay! You’re not an asshole!” she says between her laughs as she tries to get from his hold. Jim and Ellen watch them with a happy sparkle in their eyes. They like how’s Amara with their boys, they can see Luke’s smile whenever Amara acts like his older sister. Or the smile on Quinn’s face when she makes fun of herself just to make Jack laugh. But the most important thing they love about her is the way she loves Jack.
Ellen nudges Jim’s arm pointing her chin towards Jack, who is watching Amara and Luke with a big smile on his face.
“I like her.” She whispers in his ear, kissing his cheek lightly. Jim turns his head so he can look her in the eyes.
“Yeah, I like her too. She’s a bit clumsy and all but I guess that’s the ADHD.” He smiles back at her kissing her lips.
“Oh, come on! There are kids on the boat!” Quinn starts, gagging fakely at the interaction of his parents.
“Oh, shut up Quinn!” Jim shoots him a playful smirk, showing him a middle finger. Amara looks at Jim, laughing at his smirk together with Elen.
“Okay. Stop it, you two! Quinn, go cool yourself!” Elen points her hand to the lake with a playful smile on her lips. Luke lets out a snort, his arms still around her waist. He likes to be in her presence. “And you don’t laugh! You’re going too!” she looks over at Luke who is looking at her offended a gasp leaving his mouth. Ellen sends him a playful glare, ushering him to go into the lake.
“Luke stands up and starts walking after Quinn, but he turns around with a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. She raises your brow in confusion straightening herself. It’s only when he’s a few steps from her that she realizes what he’s thinking about.
“No, Luke!” she shook her head, trying to back more in the couch, she was sitting on. “Don’t you dare,” Amara’s voice is shaky from the fear of Luke throwing her to the lake. “I swear to God, Luke Warren Hughes! If you throw me in the lake I will—“ she yells out when Luke throws her over his shoulder, runs to the edge of the boat, and jumps in the lake.
She can feel the cold water on her skin as Luke jumps with her in the lake. His body weight drags her further into the deep, panic filling her eyes, when she sees him swimming up on the surface.
When the boys, hear the water splashing, they laugh, because the last thing they can see is Luke’s head, but when Jack looks over to the boat, expecting his girl standing on the edge, watching Luke jump in, panic fills his eyes. Not that she’s not standing here, but his parents are standing there, worry in their eyes, when Luke emerges from the water, and they don’t see Amara.
“Mom!” Ellen’s head whips in the direction of her middle son, seeing the panic and worry in his eyes. She takes in a sharp breath, no need for words, Jack swims over to where is Luke looking for Amara.
Quinn, who’s watching his brother in confusion, looks around noticing that Amara is missing. He lets out a curse, dipping his head underwater, swimming in the deep to find her. In a matter of few seconds, the rest of the boys are swimming towards them helping to find Amara.
The first to see her is Quinn. Immediately he swims to her, his eyes fill with panic when he sees Amara waving her hands in an attempt to get herself up. As soon as he’s shoulder-length away from Amara, he immediately grabs her hand and pulls her to his chest. Amara wraps her arms around his neck and legs around his waist clinging onto him for her dear life, as he swims with her to the surface. Amara’s coughs fill the area as soon as they get out from under the water. She gasped for air, her eyes teary from the lack of air she had.
“I’ve got you!” Quinn says in her ear, his hand on her head as he swims with her to the boat with Jack hot on his tail. When Quinn gets to the back of the boat, Jim and Ellen are already there, helping him to sit Amara on the edge. Ellen wraps her in a towel, to dry her and get her warm.
“Berry!” Jack whimper out hopping up on the boat, wrapping his arms around her. A worry in his eyes still lingers as he looks for any injury on his girl. The boys had already gathered around, worry in their eyes when they saw her teary eyes. “A—are you o—okay?” a shaky voice leaves his mouth, his eyes glued on Amara. She looks at him, nodding her head and leaning on him.
“Thank you, Quinn.” Her voice is hoarse from the coughing.
“Yeah, thanks Q.” Jack whispered, his eyes holding so much gratitude. Quinn nods his head, a small smile tugging on his lips.
“Okay, guys! I think it’s time to head home!” Ellen announces urging the boys to get out of the water.
“Amara…I—I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.” Luke’s voice is quiet and full of regret for doing so.
“It’s okay, Lu,” she smiles at him, extending her hand towards him. He puts his in hers and she pulls him closer in a hug. His head resting on her collarbone due to him being still in the water. “You didn’t know.” She caresses his cheek pressing a tender kiss to his forehead.
“Go dry yourself, Luke!” Jack sends him a smile, patting his shoulder.
“Yeah, ‘m going!” he hung his head low as he jumped up on the boat walking over to Ellen for a towel.
“You, okay, my Berry?” Jack asks as soon as Luke leaves. Amara turns to him nodding her head soft smile resting on her lips.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she sighs resting her head on his shoulder. “But I just made a scene, again.” She sighs looking in the distance.
“No, you didn’t. Nothing happened.” He ensures her and kisses the crown of her head. “It’s not your fault, Berry! If it’s anyone's, it's Luke’s.”
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— 4. SHE STARTS LAUGHING WITH COKE IN HER MOUTH
“Okay! Quinn truth or dare?” Trevor asks, his voice hooded by the alcohol running in his system. He’s sitting opposite Amara and Jack. Her legs are swung over Jack’s tights as he draws small patterns on her skin right below where her shorts end.
“Truth,” Quinn says as he sips from his beer, she looks at him, chuckling at his bored expression.
“Oh, you’re boring!” he shakes his head. “Okay so,” he trails off, trying to figure out what to ask him. A mischievous smirk forms on his lips as he asks, “If you had to choose what position would you do for the rest of your life, which one it would be?” he smirks, knowing damn well Quinn hates talking about his personal life.
He let out a sigh shaking his head at his questions. “Probably doggy style but her chest pressed in the bed,” He grins when he sees the surprised looks on the guys' faces. They didn’t actually expect for him to answer it. “Berry, truth or dare?” he looks over at Amara, completely ignoring Trevor’s gaze.
“Dare,” she says confidently, a grin on her lips thanks to the few shots she already had. Quinn’s lips quirked up at her confidence, but he knew her really well and even though she had some alcohol running through her veins, she was still the shy and insecure Amara he got to know a few weeks ago.
“Okay, then I want you to drink a whole Coke can in ten seconds.” He smirks at her. It is slightly impossible for her to make it, but he doesn’t want to give her some inappropriate dare. He wanted her to have five minutes in heaven with Jack, but he knew she wouldn’t be comfortable with that one.
“That’s an easy one,” she shakes her head, looking over at Cole who's handing her the can. “Thanks.” She smiles at him and cracks open the can.
“Okay! I’m starting the countdown,” Trevor grins at her showing her the countdown on the phone. “Three, two, one, and now!”
Amara puts the can to her lips and begins to drink quickly as the boys count down. It's almost over when Trevor yells that it's over and falls off his chair, making everyone including Amara laugh.
That is the moment when Amara realizes that she has still the coke in her mouth. Her eyes grew wide when she felt the Coke running up her nose as she laughed again, splashing the Coke all over Trevor’s shirt. Everyone grows quiet as they watch Amara. Tears spring up in her eyes as she starts apologizing.
“I—I’m so sorry. I didn’t…” she shakes her head slowly standing from her seat. “Excuse me.” She stutters out, running inside the house and up the stairs to Jack’s room.
She feels so stupid.
There is no way Jack’s friends would like her after this.
She made a complete fool of herself. This whole summer, she’s just doing everything to make his friends and family think she’s not enough for him.
She sat herself down on his bed, looking at her Coke-stained shirt.  The tears she’s been holding in finally fall over the edge rolling down her cheeks.
She hangs her head low, looking down at her hands in her lap, thinking about what a fool she made of herself. How could she start laughing with a mouth full of Coke? It wouldn’t be the worst thing if she ended up laughing, the worst thing was that the Coke squirted from her nose. She reaches for the napkins that are on the nightstand so she can blow that coke out of her nose.
“Berry? Can I come in?” Jack says from behind his door, his head leaning on the door and his eyes closed. He hates the feeling he has in his chest. The feeling of helplessness of not knowing how to help his girl to feel better or not stupid.
“Yeah,” she hums looking up at him as soon as he steps into the room. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for that to happen.”
“Hey, it’s okay!” he sits next to her pulling her to his side. “No one is mad at you,” He shakes his head searching for her eyes. “Hey, look at me!” he places his fingers under her chin raising her head so he can look him in the eyes. “The same would probably happen to them too, okay. Really no one is mad at you.” She smiles at her kissing her forehead.
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— 5. SHE AND JACK HAD AN ARGUMENT
“Baby I sw—“ Jack is cut off by Amara’s scoff that leaves her lips.
“No! I saw the looks on their faces every time I did something embarrassing. The look on your dad's face when I fell down the stairs, or the look on the guys’ faces when I accidentally dropped the wine bottle the same goes with the lake two weeks ago and the Coke too!” Amara yells at him, her hands in the air as she’s pacing around his room.
“But that wasn’t because they think you’re embarrassing yourself! They were just in shock and didn’t know what to say!” he exclaims throwing his arms in the air. “Fuck! Amara, they love you, okay!!” his hands run through his hair as he looks up at Amara who’s still pacing over the room. “And even if they don’t. I. Don’t. Fucking. Care.” He stands from his sitting position and walks over to her, his hands grabbing hers and pulling her in his chest. “I love you no matter what.”
Amara pulls herself away from him shaking her head. “Well, you shouldn’t. I know I’m not enough for you. Look at me!” she scoffs shaking her head, tears now running down her cheeks.
“Baby–” Ellen who’s just walking past Jack’s room has to stop in her way because the hurt and sadness in his voice made her curious about what’s happening.
“I’m fat, I have ADHD and I’m not even popular. You should date someone on your level. A gorgeous blond slim girl, with tons of followers and a lot of money.” Ellen can hear Amara’s loud crying voice. She quickly made her way down to where are the other boys sitting, their heads turned towards the stairs and the worry written on their faces confirmed to Ellen, that something serious was probably going on.
“What’s going on?” she looks at Quinn who is closer to the stairs and probably heard everything.
“They…uhm…I’m not sure but I think it’s because of us,” he mumbled, his hand running along his jaw. “Amara is convinced, we don’t like her, because of the accidents that happened to her during the last few weeks so—” their heads turn towards the stairs when they hear a door slamming and then loud steps. Watching the stairs, they see Amara with red eyes, as she stomps down the stairs. She stops on her steps when she sees the guys and Ellen sitting there, and all their attention is on her. She quickly wipes her tears and jolts when she hears the door close again.
“I—I'm so sorry,” she whispers under her nose and runs out of the house when she hears Jack’s steps.
“Berry!” he shouts after her as he runs down the stairs.
“Jack, what happened?” Ellen asks when he stops on the stairs looking for his girl.
“We uhm…we fought, I guess?” he sighs running his hands through his hair his eyes searching the place for his girl until they find her, sitting on the couch at the back of their house. “I—I don’t know what it was. She just started to talk about how you don’t like her because she has ADHD and that I should date someone that is on the same level as me and…” tears now forming in his eyes. “I—I told her I love her, but she—” he shakes his head, a quiet sob leaving his mouth. “Mom—” he chokes on his words, looking at his mom. Ellen quickly looks towards the four boys sitting on the couch, pleading them to leave her and Jack alone.
“Honey, breathe,” she takes his hands in his and leads him towards the couch. Ellen sighs, her eyes focused on his middle son. “Okay, now listen to me,” she takes his cheeks in her palms forcing him lightly to look at her, his eyes red from the tears. Seeing his son like this breaks her heart, but she knows what Amara’s going through, and that breaks her heart even more. “Amara is afraid, you’ll leave her for someone better than her. And I know you won’t, but even I had these insecurities when I and dad were dating,” she smiles at him, wiping away the tears. Briefly, she looks over at Amara, finding her sitting next to Quinn, who has a reassuring arm around her as he’s telling something to her.
Amara’s head is resting against Quinn’s shoulder, she’s listening to Quinn’s words. “I know it’s hard, Ara. I’ve been in this situation too, but you have to trust Jack, that he loves you. And I can tell he’s head over heels for you.” Quinn wiggles his brow at her, earning a giggle from her. “And I can see how much you love him. Don’t let the fear ruin your relationship with J.”
“Thank you, Quinn. I uhm… I know I probably didn't make the best impression, with all the things I have done, but I uhm, really appreciate you.” She smiles up at him, her eyes shining with something Quinn can’t name, but he likes the way the warm feeling runs through his chest, knowing he probably saved his brother’s relationship.
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— 6.  SHE GOT HER PERIOD EARLIER
It is the first week of August, which means Amara has to leave in two weeks, to prepare herself for her the university which won’t start until two weeks after she comes home, but she needs time to buy her things and make her calendar.
But right now, she’s lying with Ellen on the blanket on a boat, while the boys are in the water, jumping from the boat and just messing around.  
She’s feeling the hot sun on her skin with the water droplets that fall on her when the boys are around them. She turns her head when she hears Ellen moving next to her.
“Want a drink, Ara?” she asks her, a smile on her lips as she adjusts her bikini.
“Yeas please.” Amara sends her big toothy smile, earning a chuckle from Ellen. During the few weeks she spent with Jack’s family, she felt wanted and loved, especially by Jack’s parents, which is something she has never experienced.
Her parents were acting cold to her, when they found, out their perfect daughter have ADHD. They never came to her recitals or any important events she had in school or now in university.
“Ara,” Ellen calls for her, a soft smile on her lips, but her brows are furrowed.
“Something happened?” Amara looks at her, moving on her forearms, so she isn’t lying when she speaks with Jack’s mom.
“Uh… uhm nothing, just,” she looks around, making sure, none of the boys is around. “You got your period sweetie.” She points slightly at the wet red spot on the blanket.
“Oh my god,” Amara whispers. She immediately sits, looking around herself, if anyone saw. “I-I am so sorry. They weren’t supposed to come until Sunday, so-so I thought,” she rambles out, reaching for her tower to cover herself.
“Hey, it’s okay! This can happen to everyone,” she says calmly, walking over to the box where is clothes. “Here, try these on. I never wore them and I think you’ll look stunning in them,” Ellen hands Amara a pair of blue bikini swims. “Go change! I’ll wait here, make sure no one sees you, and change the blanket. And I don’t know if you use tampons or pads, but I have both here.”
“Thank you.” Amara smiles up at Ellen with appreciation in her eyes.
“You change?” Jack asks an hour later when the boys finally get out of the water.
“Yeah, uhm. My cramps came earlier than I thought, and your mom had spread a pair of swims so I borrowed them for today.” She whispers, embarrassment written all over her face.
“Oh,” he nods looking over at his mom and sending her smile. “Well, you look good in them,” he tickles her side as he sits next to her, pulling her closer to his side. “And don’t worry about the period thing. Mom is happy that you are here. She always wanted a daughter and she is beyond happy to have you here.” He kisses the side of her head as he speaks to her.
“But still, it's so embarrassing.” She mumbles again, shoving her face in the crock of his head.
“No, it’s not, berry. This can happen to everyone. And what I remember when I was younger. This happened to my mom too, many times. It’s completely normal.”
“What are you? A specialist on women's problems?” you chuckle in his neck, planting small kisses here and there.
“Sure I am. You don’t know I was supposed to be born as a girl? But then this thing,” he points to his groin. “Happened. But you know him really well.”
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— +1. THE MISSING PIECE OF PUZZLE
It is Amara’s last full day, in the lake house. Her plane is taking off tomorrow early in the morning. She’s excited to go home, first because she just wants her quiet apartment for a while, and second, she’ll finally see her little fluffy baby, Esmeralda. Jack will drive her to the airport, seeing her off, but will fly there a week after her, just to give her some time alone.
 Right now, she’s sitting on the couch, in the backyard Ellen is sitting next to her with a book in her hands, Quinn and Jim are standing in front of the grill, doing some food, and Jack and Luke are playing football.
Amara’s eyes are glutted on her shirtless boyfriend, who runs around the yard while Luke is chasing him. She’s so happy to be there with him, his family, and his friends. Unfortunately, they had to leave two days ago to spend time with their families and prepare for the upcoming season.
“Watch out!” you don't realize what's going on until a football ball hits her in the face.
“Ow,” she whines, dropping her face in her hands. “Fuck,” she whimpers, tears rolling down her cheeks, probably from the shock and bit from the pain.
“Oh, my god, Amara, honey!” Ellen, gasps, dropping her book and scooting closer to her to look at her face.
“Baby! Fuck! You okay?”
“Ara! I’m so fucking sorry!” Jack and Luke yell at the same time, as they run to them.
“I-It’s okay,” Amara let out in a shaky voice “Just, hurts a little,” she put down your hands, spotting Jack and Luke still running towards her. Ellen gasps and stands up from her seat as she looks at Amara, she looks at her. “W-what?”
“Oh my god, baby! You are bleeding!” Jack shouts out of breath, as he kneels in front of Amara. Ellen sends him a glare, shakes her head, and walks inside the house.
“I-I’m so sorry, Ara!” Luke sighs, the guilt in his voice is clear to her ears. Amara looks at her other side, almost screaming from surprise when she sees Quinn and Jim looking at her, worry written all over their faces.
“It's okay, it doesn't hurt that much,” she sends Luke a smile, reassuring him, when she looks back at him. However, the expression on his face tells her, he isn’t sure about it. She extends her hand towards him, waiting for him to grab it. “It’s okay, Lu. I promise, it’s just a small cut, I’ll live with that.” she squeezes his hand, waiting for him to say or do something.
“Okay.”
After a while, Amara’s cheek is cleaned and treated, and they all are sitting around the table with food on their plates. Jack is sitting next to his girl, his hand on her tight, as he talks with his brothers.
Amara’s eyes run over the table enjoying the atmosphere they have here. All her childhood she wished that her family would be like this. They were, until she was five, and the doctors told her and her parents she had ADHD. That was the moment everything in their family changed.
“Ara,” Ellen’s voice makes Amara turn her head at her, a soft smile on her lips.
“Yeah?”
“We just want to thank you, that you are taking care of our boy! And how glad we are you could have spent the summer here with us!” she smiles widely at her, completely catching Amara off guard.
“Oh it’s more like, he’s taking care of me.” You giggle drawing the attention of the three brothers to you.
“Yeah, but you are here for him, so we are here for you! And I’m really glad I could’ve met you. You are like the daughter I’ve never had.” Ellen reaches his hand towards Amara, she places her hand in Ellen, squeezing it slightly, tears pricking in her eyes at Ellen’s kind words.
“You truly are an amazing person, Berry! And I’m a little jealous of Jack!” Quinn smiles at him, the tips of his ears are red when everyone looks at him with shock. He never was the type of person who would express his emotions.
“Yeah, Quinn’s right! You are the most amazing girl I have ever met! I really enjoyed the summer with you!” the tears that were in her eyes were sliding down her cheeks. Jack who’s sitting next to her, is smiling widely, his arm now around her shoulders as he pulls her into him.
“T-Thank you! It means a lot to me that you uhm, that you like me,” she whispers, taking in a deep breath. “Uhm, I-I really enjoyed the time here.”
“Yeah! We did too. You are the missing piece of the puzzle that we missed.” This time is Jim the one who speaks, his word sends another wave of tears to Amara’s eyes. Impulsively she stands up from her seat, walking over to Jim to give him a tight hug. “Thank you.” Jim smiles tightening his arms around her.
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miley1442111 · 1 day
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transfer- s.reid
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a/n: intended for fem reader, but as always imagine what you like:)))))))))
summary: how your sudden transfer forces certain feelings to the surface
pairing: spencer reid x bau! reader
warnings: none
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“It’s an executive decision Y/n, they are not asking,” Hotch sighed and you felt bile rise in your throat as the team stared in horror. You were being transferred to the Pentagon. “I know this will be an emotional time for all of us-”
“It’s not emotional, it’s a horrible idea,” Spencer said, his voice calm despite the storm raging in his mind. He wouldn’t be able to see you everyday? Bullshit. “She’s a crucial member of this team-”
“Spencer, they aren’t asking. Strauss expects her to be back in DC within the next hour,” he explained and exited the room. Everyone fell silent and Spencer raised his eyes to meet yours. You looked terrified and angry, he hadn’t seen you this angry ever.  
Not only were you one of the most vital members of the team, you were the thing that made all this shit just that small bit easier to deal with. What would he do now without your teasing jokes? How would he even want to go to work when he knew he wouldn’t see your tired smiles in the mornings? When would he remember to rest if you weren’t reminding him? 
And how would he be able to tell you he was in love with you when he didn’t see you everyday?
“I-I’ll… I’ll go get my bag,” You sighed, accepting your fate and leaving the room, Spencer trailing behind you. 
“Y/n!” He called after you. “Wait, I-I’ll come with you to grab your things,” He internally kicked himself for not thinking of something better to say. When he caught up with you outside the building, he could see the tears falling from your eyes, even in the darkness of the night. 
“I don’t want to leave,” You sniffled. “I told them I didn’t want a new position, I told them that I was h-happy here, that I want to be h-here.”
Spencer took you in his arms, letting you cry into the side of his neck. Had the circumstances been different, he would’ve over thought about the fact that you were so close to him. So close that he could smell your hair, so close that he could feel your soft skin on his, so close that he was very much enjoying the way you clung to him. 
“I mean… I don’t have any say? T-there’s so much more I wanted to do… I- I had this whole plan-”
“It’s ok,” he soothed. “You’ll do great things at the pentagon-”
“Fuck the pentagon!” You exclaimed, pushing him off of you. “I wanted to… I wanted to tell you for so long, a-and then the moment never seemed right, a-and I just assumed I-I’d lost m-my chance and I’m was sure you were already s-seeing someone so it didn’t even matter but then we g-got even closer a-and-”
Spencer’s heart was beating out of his chest, were you trying to say what he thought you were? “What are you trying to say?!” He shouted over your rambling, stopping the pacing you were doing in front of him. 
“I’m in love with you!” You shouted back. Spencer stood there, stunned, as you anxiously waited for an answer. You got one in the form of the grin on Spencer’s face. One of his hands reached out and grabbed your waist, while the other cupped your cheek, pulling you in to kiss him. His lips against yours were electric. You were relieved that he felt the same way and you were ecstatic that he kissed you.
“I’m in love with you too,” he whispered against your lips, pulling away. Your hands rooted themselves in his hair as he kissed you again, only pulling away when the rest of the team cheered from the door. 
You two were met with congratulations and cheers, happy that the two of you had finally told each other how you felt. 
You walked onto the airstrip, Spencer’s hand in yours, not even scared for your new role. 
You had Spencer, what else did you need?
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------
criminal minds masterlist :)
navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, marvel, top gun, challengers, obx+)
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norizzsainz · 17 hours
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🌶️ NFY : FOREVER BE THE LOVE OF MY LIFE
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[ carlos sainz x singer!fem!reader ]
[ summary ] carlos' and y/n's breakup comes as a surprise to many of their friends. no one ever thought the couple would ever break up, but alas, y/n was always ready to do whatever was best for the love of her life — even if it meant breaking up with him.
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previous | masterlist | next
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━━━━━━━ FEBRUARY 19, 2024
lando norris looked up from his phone, his troubled gaze falling on the very man who had been giving him mixed emotions all day.
carlos sainz sr.
“lando, where is the competition?” the older man joked, his spanish accent thick. “you are not giving your best.”
“i'm not just feeling well, i guess.” lando shrugged, not really knowing how to act anymore now that he was more aware of what was happening around him.
carlos sainz jr’s brows furrowed, realizing something was off with his best friend.
the kid, who was always joking and had something to say, was awfully quiet today.
“come on, lando.” carlos beckoned over his friend as he walked away. “let's go get a drink and let the old men play.”
lando quickly followed, grateful for the intervention. the pair found themselves sitting by the cafe on the golf course; an awkward silence hung in the air after they had ordered their drinks.
“what's going on, lan?” carlos spoke, worried for his friend. “is everything alright?”
lando felt the walls he built crumble slowly, trying so hard to pretend like he didn't know anything.
“yeah, i'm good. just nervous about race season,” he lied, hoping his friend would believe him.
carlos frowned. “really? is that it? this awkwardness has nothing to do with my interview that came out?” he asked, studying the younger's reactions.
“all that interview did was prove you are madly in love with y/n.” lando chuckled. “how did sainz sr take the news?”
the mclaren racer wanted to pat himself on the back for the smooth change of topic, watching the way the initial worry on his friend's face faded away.
“papa and i haven’t been talking much ever since the breakup.” carlos shook his head. “i know he wants the best for me, but i want y/n, you know?”
“i just don’t understand why this all happened so suddenly. everything was going well, wasn’t it?”
“it wasn’t as great as it looked on the outside, lan. i guess all this was inevitable.”
lando watched the way carlos’ shoulders slumped, sighing lowly. “don’t get mad at sainz sr over all of this, though,” he suggested, trying to be a voice of reason.
“i’m trying not to.” carlos forced a smile. “y/n told me that we had to break-up because we didn’t match. that we weren’t meant to be. i just can’t help but feel that papa must’ve made her think all that.”
the mclaren racer winced at the spot on assumption, smiling politely at the server who came in with their drinks. a moment of silence hung in the air before he heard the elder grunt, clutching his side gently.
“carlos, you alright?” lando asked, brows furrowed. “what happened?”
“nothing, nothing.” carlos shook his head. “my side has been bothering me a bit. must be a cramp from the training.”
lando nodded, sharing the pain of getting cramps in places where no one thought it was possible to get a cramp. “take care, mate.” he smiled, the elder mimicking the same.
carlos smiled. “wanna go back home and call it a day? i’ll send papa a text that we are leaving,” he suggested, getting an immediate nod from the younger.
the walk to the car was silent, but somehow it wasn’t as awkward as it was before. lando seemed more at ease after talking with carlos, realizing that the elder had it harder than himself in this situation.
“do you think y/n would’ve told me if the reason behind our breakup was papa?” carlos asked out of the blue, taking lando by surprise. “do you think she lied to me when she said we had to break-up because of our differences?”
lando norris felt the uneasiness magnify with every question carlos threw at him, sputtering out a response that he thought was reasonable.
“why don’t you listen to her album, carlos? maybe you’ll get some answers from it.”
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TAGLIST : @d3kstar , @khaylin27 , @sailing-with-100-ships , @lorenakaspersen , @be-your-coffee-pot , @shakespereansonnet , @sltwins , @laneyspaulding19 , @vizzzashley , @fangirl125reader , @lewisvinga , @eclipsedcherry , @c-losur3 , @yeetskeetstreet , @sam-is-lost , @imsiriuslyreal , @ilove-tswizzle , @bernelflo , @mycenterfold , @justkalcpxia , @multi-fandom-fan221b , @jinimon-tr , @neivivenaj , @jointhehunt67 , @fangirl-dot-com , @brune77e , @brekkers-whore , @honethatty12 , @bokutos-babyowl , @shineforever19 , @spideybv28 , @princessria127 , @hiireadstuff , @xoscar03 , @ari-nicole , @yl90 , @bingussthirdtoe , @sp1rl , @evie-119
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oneforthemunny · 1 day
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oooh could we get some hockey!eddie, visiting/surprising him at practice, flufffffff 💕💕
for the sweetest most polite anon lol! hockey player!eddie who's birthday happens to fall during the training season.
"He's gonna be so stoked." Chris, the team manager grinned, pushing the heavy stadium door open for you.
"I hope so." You smiled gently, ducking under his arm, following him down the long, cinderblock stadium.
It was still so cold, despite the heat cranked high everywhere. Boston in the winter was brutal, winter time worse than Indiana's ever could imagine. It was a miracle you'd even made it, didn't get snowed in and grounded at the airport with all the snow.
"No, he's gonna love it, trust me." Chris grinned. "I got some of the guys in on it too, hope you don't mind. Just his coach and his agent. I told them he had an interview after practice."
"An interview?" You lifted a brow.
Chris snickered. "Yeah, he thinks you're with ESPN so just go with it." He shrugged. "I knew if I just told him to stay, he'd get suspect. Plus, this is gonna be fucking priceless."
You giggled lightly, following Chris around the hallway. A few players lingering around, most cleared out for the evening, but no sign of your curly headed love.
"Hey, Franco. Munson's in the conference room, right?" Chris nodded towards the closed door, the other man grunting in response. "Cool, hey, stay right here, ok? I'm gonna make sure he's ready and set up."
You nodded, standing to the side, a knuckled grip on your purse strap. Your tummy flipped with excitement, maybe nerves. It had been a few weeks since you'd seen Eddie, since he'd left for training season. You didn't want to be a distraction, but with his birthday this weekend, you couldn't let him celebrate alone. Especially not after he sounded so sad, so disheartened on the phone- he missed you, told you every single day, every time he called.
"...Perfect, one sec. I'll tell her you're ready." Chris opened the door, pulling you from your thoughts. He waved at you, stepping out with door still half opened. "I'll leave you two alone, but if you need me, I'm right out here."
Your heart fluttered, flipped and skipped with nerves, pushing the door open, sliding into view. You caught a glimpse at Eddie before he fully saw you, finger drumming on the desk, in sweatpants and a sweatshirt with the team's logo proudly on the front, hair still a little damp from his shower.
Your breath hitched, watching his face fall in shock once he saw you. A pause filled the space between you two, the door clicking with a shut behind you.
"Oh, no way." Eddie gawked, blinking hard, like he might be hallucinating. "N-No way. Is this real? Holy shit, you-you're- Baby, what are you doing here?" He stood from the table, tripping over it, the metal legs screeching when he shoved it.
"Surprise." You squeaked, opening your arms to hug him.
Eddie nearly tackled you in a hug, squeezing you tightly to him. "Holy shit, I can't believe you're here. You're actually here, I-I thought I was getting interviewed-"
"-No." You giggled, pulling back lightly to look at him. "Just me. I wanted to surprise you for your birthday."
Eddie's face lit up, lips curling in an even brighter smile. His hands cupped either side of your face, lips on yours, pulling you into a head spinning kiss that screamed I missed you I missed you I missed you.
"I can't believe you're here." Eddie muttered, lips vibrating against yours.
"Happy birthday, baby." You muttered back, fingers raking through his hair. You'd missed him, missed him much more than you realized now that he was standing here in front of you.
Eddie pulled back, looking up at the door. "Chris knew about this?"
You giggled, nodding. "He helped me get my flight and stuff. Picked me up from the airport."
Eddie shook his head, grin still wide on his face. "Chris! You fuckin' liar!" He yelled playfully, the men behind the door howling in laughter. "I thought I was about to get my cover story!"
You laughed, pressing your face to his chest, rocking with him slowly. "This is better though." Eddie added, hugging you tighter to him. "Just for the record, this is way fuckin' better."
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raikkxz · 1 day
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WALK HIM LIKE A DOG 4 — JB22 .ᐟ.ᐟ
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ᯓ ˚₊➷ ❛. . . in which sebastian vettels sister gets her dream job to work along with him, but stumbles across an infamous playboy ❜ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁
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★ 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃﹕﹙ yes/no - here ﹚ — 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒﹕﹙hungover reader, purpose use of lowercase letters only, use of y/n, i'm lowk not very sure, probably not proof read well, lmk if there's anything i missed!!﹚ — 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆[s]﹕﹙jenson button 22 x f!vettel!reader﹚ — 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓﹕﹙not much. like at all.﹚ ★ 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐎﹕﹙yall i need requests im out of ideas﹚
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˚ ₊ · ͟͟͞͞➳ — ꒰ prev // pinned post // masterlist // taglist // rules // next ꒱
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YOU WOKE UP with a pounding headache. you could hear your alarm going off. groaning, you turned over in your bed to turn off the alarm. but to your surprise, you accidentally bumped into jenson, who seemed to have fallen asleep in your bed last night, instead.
jenson stirs, eyes opening half-way. "..morning." he murmurs sleepily. "how'd you sleep, love?"
*furrowing your eyebrows, you stammer." "..did i- did we- why are you-?"
"relax, darling." jenson hums. "you drank a *little* too much last night. and no, we didn't do any of the sort. you didn't answer my question."
"i slept.. well, i have a bad headache." you groan, laying back.
"stay her, ill get you more water." jenson assures you, getting up. he leaves the room and head to the kitchen to see sebastian there. jenson raises his eyebrows.
"good morning to you too. did you and my sister..?"
"no no no, it's not like that." jenson mumbles. "shes hungover as fuck, i was just.. taking care of her, alright?"
sebastian gives him a suspicious look, but shrugs it off as he leans on the counter, sipping his coffee.
"uhh, so do you and y/n live together?" jenson asks as he fills up a glass of water.
"oh no, im just staying with her for the time being until the next race comes up." sebastian says.
"ah, nice, i see." jenson nods before going back to your room. "hey, you alright?"
"yeah, i think.." you mumble, drinking your water. "my stomach feels like the insides are all twisted up."
jenson chuckles softly. "rest more, love. you need it."
you lay there for a few minutes, staring up at the ceiling with jenson next to you.
"..hey, jense?" you ask after a few minutes.
"yeah?" he responds immediately.
"thank you." you mumble, turning to him. "thank you for taking care of me."
jenson smiles, pushing your hair away from your face. "anything for a pretty girl like you." he teases.
you laugh, nudging him playfully. "you're a dick."
"oh c'mon, you love me!" jenson grins.
"i do." you giggle.
jenson looks at you tenderly, his eyes filled with adoration.
"augh, this is worse than cramps." you grumble, twisting and turning in bed. you take another sip of water. jenson pushes the hair away from your face, making sure it didn't get in the way. you smile, appreciating the gesture.
"did i do anything.. *weird* last night?" you ask, breaking the silence.
"does dancing like crazy count? to be fair, i've met many people who've done that, so i don't know if that falls into the 'weird' category." jenson teases. you laugh softly, your head falling back.
"i suppose not, but my dancing is definitely crazy." you say jokingly.
"nah, you're definitely better than me." jenson laughs.
"..thanks again, jense. you're an amazing friend." you hum.
jenson smiles, but there's a hint of sadness in his eyes.
you furrow your eyebrows. "is something wrong?"
jenson purses his lips, looking away. "somewhere along the way, you became more than just a friend. i can't keep pretending i love you only as a friend."
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★ 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐎﹕﹙i tried adding more dialogue but like i said im out of ideas smhh. i might discontinue the series atp 😭﹚ ౨ৎ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓﹕ ﹙@gray4youuu @c-losur3 @ujws5 @namgification @faithshouseofchaos @isurvived3-11andimproud @somebodyonce-toldme @44lewico﹚
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˚ ₊ · ͟͟͞͞➳ — ꒰ prev // pinned post // masterlist // taglist // rules // next ꒱
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notes, comments, reblogs, feedback and follows are greatly appriciated!
!! PLEASE DO NOT REPOST ON OTHER WEBISTES/APPS OR COPY MY ORIGINAL WORK !!
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flowerandblood · 2 days
Text
The Fall from the Heavens (29)
[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]
[ warnings: sex content, sexual tension, smut, angst, swearing ]
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[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]
The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.
Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
Next chapters: Masterlist
_____
She was awakened by the touch of his hand − his fingers combed lazily through her hair making a pleasant, hot sensation ripple through her stomach. Although she knew he always got up earlier than her, this time he stayed in bed, her body, for some reason she didn't understand, snuggled into his chest.
She felt a pinch in her heart at the thought that some part of her wanted to move away from him and another part of her just wanted him to carry on, so she decided not to open her eyes, pretending she was still asleep.
She felt him looking at her − his lips once in a while placed a soft, warm kiss on the top of her head, from which she felt a pleasant sensation in her heart.
She felt like begging him to stay in bed with her all day, to make love to her, but she knew she couldn't to this.
She didn't want him to think that what he had done, what he had hidden from her, she could forget and forgive with such ease.
"− if that's your wish, we can stay like this all day −" He whispered softly, running his fingertips over her bare neck, making her shiver.
She felt a squeeze in her throat at the thought that he knew her so well, that he was perfectly capable of recognizing that she was awake, that she was faking it. She opened her eyes and rose without a word, his arm immediately placed around her waist, trying to stop her.
"− my love −"
"− you promised me −"
She heard him let out a quiet breath and let her go, resigned, sinking back onto the sheets, burying his face in his hands. She got out of bed and called for her maidservant, feeling that if she did not disperse her thoughts she would cry again.
They ate their morning meal in silence and although she saw that he looked at her once in a while, she did not reciprocate the gaze.
"− has he tried to touch you before? − your brother-cunt, I mean −" He added mischievously, but pressed his lips together when she threw him a tired look full of disapproval.
"− no − I've already explained it to you − the grief and humiliation took his mind away −"
"− he was always mocking you to please Aegon − Baela must be delighted with how faithful he is −" He said with amusement mixed with mockery, turning his head away.
"− apparently we are both fortunate in terms of faithful men − don't you think so, husband? −" She asked him coldly; he gave her a quick, horrified look and swallowed hard, knowing full well what she was implying.
"− I have never betrayed you − not in this way −"
"− and a woman in a brothel? −" She asked matter-of-factly, thinking with surprise that she felt nothing when she said those words. She saw that he turned pale at the mere mention and furrowed his brow.
"− I've already said it − it didn't come to anything − it was not my desire to sink between the thighs of a whore that hundreds of men already had, but Aegon wouldn't listen to me −" He muttered, clearly embarrassed and irritated that she had brought up the subject again.
"− what happened there? −"
Her uncle closed his eye and hid his face in his hand, clearly losing patience.
"− why do you want to discuss it now? −"
"− I thought you wanted to be honest with me, uncle − as I can see, nothing has changed −" She said dispassionately, rising from her seat, heading towards the door. She heard him draw in a loud breath and move restlessly in his chair.
"− I − fuck − she told me − she told me that Aegon paid her for my fulfilment − I didn't want − I didn't want to lie with her, so she just put her hand in my breeches −" He muttered, stammering. She looked over her shoulder at him − his head was dropped in shame, his jaw clenched, his lower lip quivering.
"− did you wish for this? −" She asked.
She saw that he swallowed hard, looking dully at his plate.
"− …no −" He whispered.
Something in the way he looked, in that confession made her feel a need to comfort him.
He threw her a surprised, horrified look, tense as she turned back and approached him slowly. He stared at her from below, unsure of what she was trying to do − her hand sunk into his hair, pressing his face into her stomach.
She pressed her lips together as his hands tentatively clenched on the material of her gown, his nose snuggling into her flesh as if seeking refuge.
"− I was afraid that she would have told Aegon if I − that the whole of King's Landing −" He muttered in a breaking voice, as if only now did he truly understand what had happened then.
"− shhh −" She hushed him, stroking his hair tenderly and calmly, recognising that despite her anger and grief, he deserved her to show him her understanding on the matter.
She didn't want to reject him, she just wanted him to understand his mistakes.
"− are you disgusted with me? −" He asked in a trembling voice, to which she responded with a quiet, tired sigh.
"− no − it is the woman who disgusts me − what would you think of me if I told you that when I was so young, a grown man touched me between my thighs despite my pleas? − would you have been disgusted with me? −" She asked quietly; she heard him swallow hard at the thought, his fingers digging harder into the fabric of her gown.
"− I would have killed him with my own hands − I would have brought you his head −" He hissed in a way from which, for some reason, she felt not discomfort but pride.
"− and I will bring it to you −" He began, and she blinked, looking at him surprised, not understanding what he meant. When he lifted his gaze to her, she froze, seeing something in his eye that she knew perfectly well.
"− I will bring you the head of Larys Strong − I am returning to King's Landing −"
His gaze went from intense and threatening to surprised and frightened as she let go of him immediately, turning pale as she took a few steps back, breathing heavily through her mouth.
I am returning to King's Landing.
"− you want to abandon me −" She muttered with regret and disbelief feeling her whole body was trembling − he stood up from his seat, horrified at how she reacted, shaking his head.
"− no − no, I want to make sure that no one dares to act behind my back anymore − that what happened will never happen again − I need to speak with my brother −"
She looked away, embracing herself tightly with her arms, trying not to cry, trying to maintain a semblance of indifference as the cold sweat of disappointment, fear and despair ran down her spine.
"− fly with me − this time of your own free will −"
"− no −" She declared immediately, startling him. "− this is the only place where I'm safe − the only place where I'm not afraid for my life − don't expect me to go back to my golden cage −"
He looked at her dully, with a disappointment mixed with sadness. He swallowed loudly and looked to the side, licking his lower lip with his tongue.
"− I see − so I'll do what is necessary and return here − I can't predict when that will happen −" He replied coolly in a way from which she felt her heart squeeze.
She pressed her lips together in rage as she felt involuntary warm tears one by one begin to run down her cheeks and hid her face in her hands as she finally burst into a helpless, loud sob.
He drew in the air loudly, not knowing what to do − she heard his footsteps, his strong arms embraced her, hugging her into his leather tunic. She snuggled into him, tightening her fingers on the material of it, feeling hot in her lower abdomen as his familiar, longed-for scent filled her nostrils.
"− will you betray me again? − will you stab a dagger into my heart? −" She mumbled in a quivering, breaking voice, imagining that he had given up once and for all, that he had decided that she was not worth such an agony, such an effort, such a sacrifice.
She heard him huff, sighing impatiently − he shook her body as if he wanted her to wake up.
"− what are you saying? − I'm doing all this for you − only for you −" He exhaled, uttering the last sentence while pressing his lips to her ear, his hot breath enveloping her cheek. She turned her face towards him and the tips of their noses touched − they stared at each other for a moment, his thumb running tenderly over the soft, hot skin of her face.
"− let me −"
She didn't object as his arms embraced her hips and lifted her up, as he headed to the bed with her, as he laid her gently on the sheets − he watched her face with his lips parted in desire as his trembling hands uncertainly lifted the material of her gown up, exposing her bare thighs.
She heard only the rustling of the material of his breeches before they both sighed − he took his swollen, long manhood in his hand and guided its pink, fat head to her slit, pushing against it, stretching her folds to the sides.
Though he didn't even touch her, her moist, puffy walls welcomed him easily as he slid deeper into her with a soft, slow, tender thrust of his hips.
He leaned over her, nuzzling his face into her cheek − she could feel his ragged, excited, hot breath enveloping her face.
"− I love you − I love doing this to you − I love feeling you − your warm, tight insides − your scent − gods, Rhaenys −" He breathed out, beginning to move inside her, with the gentle rocking of his hips slamming his cock into her again and again with the quiet click of their shared wetness.
She felt tears of emotion, pain, affection and fear run down from the corners of her eyes onto the pillow under her head, her fingers tightening on the material of his tunic.
"− uncle −" She mumbled helplessly like a small child − she felt his manhood pulsate hard inside her, felt his fleshy, swollen lips pressed against her cheek placing wet, hot kisses on it, his thrusts deeper, surer and faster, teasing a wonderful spot deep inside her.
"− I'm here − your husband is by your side −" He whispered, his words, his pushes, his hands stroking her cheeks and thighs so tender, so warm, that she gave herself to him completely, spreading her legs wider, letting him sink deeper into her with his low groan of pleasure.
Never had they made love so quietly, so close together, so helpless and vulnerable, never had she felt so frightened and so safe at the same time, his scent, his breath, the fact that she felt him deep inside her soothed her nerves.
"− don't leave −" She mewled, cuddling his body into hers, listening to the slickness of their naked bodies, the wonderful, tickling heat intensifying in her lower abdomen, her nipples under her gown growing hard and sensitive, her lips parted wide as his thighs slapped against her buttocks again and again.
"− I'll come back to you − I promise − I promise −" He exhaled, his lips, his tongue clinging to hers in sticky, dirty, loud kisses from which her fleshy muscles clenched around him, sucking him inside, both of them soaking wet from her moisture.
"− your seed − I want it inside me, uncle −" She mewled throwing her head back, feeling the tension inside her reach its peak, her hips responding greedily to his thrusts − he sighed loudly, surprised, rooting into her at last with all his might, pressing her body against the bed, which began to creak loudly beneath them.
"− I know − 'm close − Rhaenys − fuck-fuck-fuckkk −" He groaned, closing his eye, his hands finding hers and intertwining their fingers as his warm spend filled her womb, his lips parted in relief and pleasure. He pressed his face into the hollow of her neck not slowing down his pace, giving her what she needed until she came.
She reached her peak feeling it, clenching her fingers against his, moaning helplessly beneath him, trying to calm the convulsions of her body as his hips still rocked deep inside her for a moment longer.
"− Rhaenys − Rhaenys −"
They lay like this in silence, holding hands, trying to calm their shaky breaths, his manhood still pulsing inside her for a while, soft and warm.
She thought that never before had she felt so secure, so fulfilled as she did now, with him, with this man.
She wasn't sure where her body ended and his began − it seemed to her that they intertwined like vines and had long since become one.
She had always known that something was missing in her without him.
A single, solitary tear ran down the side of her face at the thought that he would no longer be with her.
He felt it, felt the moisture on her cheek and lifted his gaze to her.
"− no − no, my love − shhh −" He hushed her, stroking her hot face with his thumb, wiping a wet trail off it.
He gave her a tender kiss, long and drawn out, the way she had always imagined a man would kiss the woman he loved.
She felt hot in her heart at the thought.
Her mother, on hearing that her uncle intended to return to King's Landing, was not pleased, but neither did she object when she learned her daughter intended to stay by her side. She allowed him to leave; he did not, however, receive a warm farewell and, as she understood, did not expect one at all.
She was the only person to lead him away − the sun shone high in the sky as they approached Vhagar, her gown, his cloak and their hair blowing in the wind. He turned towards her, his hand raised to her face, seeing the sadness painted on it.
"− my wife −" He said quietly and kissed her forehead, like when they were little children.
He did this whenever he wanted to reassure her, when they were alone and he was unable to find the words to give her comfort.
She felt a squeeze in her heart at that thought, that he remembered it, that, like her, he held all those memories deep inside his heart.
"Why can't I have a beautiful hair colour like you, uncle? It's not fair. Many women in the world have dark hair, but not white." She muttered, fiddling with the fabric of her gown as she sat beside him on the wide windowsill in his chamber, a book in his hand.
They spoke of House Targaryen and Old Valyria, reflecting on their trip to Essos and what they wanted to see there first.
She lifted her gaze to him and saw that he was looking at her with his eyes wide open, as if there was something about the subject she had brought up that frightened him for some reason. He grunted quietly and licked his lower lip, swallowing hard, looking away.
"Well…I understand your sadness. But that was heaven's decision." He replied calmly, turning the page, apparently wanting to close the discussion quickly.
"Aren't you disappointed that your future wife doesn't have snow-white hair?" She mumbled in a breaking voice, pressing her lips together, feeling her chubby cheeks turn red from the tears that had welled up under her eyelids.
He looked at her, shocked to hear her question, his lips parted when he saw that she was on the verge of bursting into sobs.
She was afraid she had been a disappointment to him.
"− I − well − I never considered it − I don't feel any disappointment about it − I am fond of your dark, long eyelashes − they make your eyes seem even bigger − your curls are soft to the touch −" He muttered, apparently trying to get anything out of himself and her face lit up with a wide, grateful smile. He looked at her and sighed finally, the corner of his mouth also lifting up lazily.
"− don't think about it −" He hummed, laying his hand on the back of her head and leaned in, placing a warm, soft kiss on her forehead.
All she could think about was that, that sunny summer day when his hand dropped as he stepped back and turned, walking towards Vhagar, warm tears of grief, sadness and helplessness running down her cheeks one after another.
For the next few days, she felt as she had for the eight years she had been separated from him.
She locked herself in her chamber, eating almost nothing, reading and reflecting on everything that had happened.
She shuddered when she heard a knock on her door. She wanted to say that she longed to be left alone, but she heard a familiar voice from behind them.
"May I come in?"
Baela.
She swallowed quietly and rose to sit on her bed, sighing.
"Yes."
The door opened and her stepsister stepped inside, closing it behind her, bestowing upon her a calm, warm smile. She walked over to her and sat on the bed beside her, looking down at her hands.
"Did Jace tell you what he did?" She asked uncertainly.
She wanted her brother to admit it himself, to take responsibility for his actions.
He wasn't a little child anymore.
Baela looked at her and snorted.
"Yes. He asked me to apologise to you. He said he was unable to come here to do it himself out of shame. The sight of your uncle took his mind away." She muttered disapprovingly, shaking her head and running her hand over her face. She looked at her finally, concern and compassion in her gaze.
"How do you feel?" She asked quietly, her fingers tentatively reaching out to hers. She squeezed them, wanting to let her understand that her closeness meant a lot to her even though she couldn't express it.
"Empty." She whispered.
Baela pressed her lips together at her words.
"Because he's gone?"
"Yes."
"Is he coming back?"
"That's what he said."
They were silent for a moment, looking towards the window, contemplating.
"What he did…he shocked me. He's obsessed with you."
She furrowed her brow at her words.
"My brother?" She asked uncertainly, frightened by the thought that it might have been worse than she thought.
"Your husband."
She swallowed hard, feeling her heart heat at her words for some reason − she knew her cheeks lit up with a flush of shame at the memory of what he had done in front of them.
"− forgive me − I don't know what got into all of us then − you must have been embarrassed −" She muttered, lowering her gaze. Baela giggled at her words.
"− no, just the opposite − I felt jealous − when he embraced you, when he touched you, he wasn't looking at us anymore − he was looking at you − how madly in love do you have to be with someone to do something like this? −" She asked with amusement.
For some reason her words and light-hearted approach made her feel better. Her fingers clamped tighter on hers.
"I missed you. It's only now that I realised that. You were always so good to me." She mumbled in shame, thinking of how she had never shown her as much warmth as she should have, sunk in her grief and pain.
"You've always been that way towards me too."
She shook her head.
"No. I couldn't let you into my heart. I couldn't −"
"You suffered. I know, you don't have to explain it to me. I never held it against you." She said calmly. As she extended her hand to her, Baela smiled and sighed as if relieved, laying down beside her, pressing her cheek against her breast.
"− what are you going to do with Jace? −" She asked uncertainly, stroking her shoulder, her pleasant floral oils teasing her nose. Baela laughed under her breath.
"− I'll raise him −"
They spent the evening together, conversing about everything and nothing, as if they were trying to recapture lost time. Rhaena eventually joined them, looking for her sister, finally laying down next to them.
They tried to forget, at least for a moment, what was happening around them.
It was as if she had never left Dragonstone.
After a few days, a servant interrupted her morning meal by saying that a message had arrived for her from King's Landing. She blinked, shocked, wondering what it could have been about, convinced that something bad had happened.
She nodded and dismissed the boy, ripping off the lac and unrolling the parchment as soon as he closed the door behind him.
I cannot sleep. When you are not by my side, I have nightmares. I dream that you are dying. In a sleep. In a fire. In childbirth. I think I am losing my mind. Write me immediately when you receive this message that you are alive and safe. Send it to Harrenhal, for there I set out on my mission to end the life of Larys Strong once and for all. You will have his head. Aemond
She swallowed loudly, feeling the rapid pounding of her heart, joy and disbelief, for it was the first time in her life that she was the one to receive a letter from him.
The letter he had written her before he flew to Storm's End had been an act of desperation, but now it was a confession of his free will, a desire to communicate to her what he had felt and experienced during their separation.
She was touched by it.
She immediately sat down at her desk and began to write, not wanting him to wait any longer than necessary for her reply.
I am alive, my husband, and I am in good health. Do not fret, I know I am safe here. I ask you, whatever you intend to do, not to take the life of Alys Rivers. I am owed a debt to her and her death is not my desire. Return to Dragonstone as soon as you can. Rhaenys
She rolled the parchment in her hand and summoned her servant, ordering that the message be sent to Harrenhal and that it be passed directly into her husband's hands.
The next few days passed as she waited for his reply − she feared that something had happened, that her father's brother would realise why he had come there, that he was in danger.
One morning when she got up she simply fainted, her head hitting the table − she lay like that for a long time, unconscious until one of the servants came into her chamber, wanting to help her dress.
Her mother panicked and immediately summoned the maester, ordering him to examine her. When she woke up, she heard her conversation with Daemon, and recognised their voices despite not seeing them.
"Is he absolutely sure?"
"Yes, he had no doubt. It may be a sign, Daemon. I −" Her mother paused, turning towards her, hearing that she was trying to get up.
"− no − no, my love − lie down and rest −" She said with concern, placing her hand on her shoulder, the other fixing a pillow under her head, warmth, tenderness, concern in her eyes.
"− what happened? −" She mumbled, feeling that her head ached badly. Her mother smiled at her in a way that warmed her heart.
"− you are carrying a child inside you −"
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Note
Hiiiiiii
How are you? I hope you are doing good.
Anyway
So
We all know the 9 best seconds of "Under your influence" by Chris Brown, right?
That, but with Bucky. 🥹 (No smut, please)
Thank you <3
Under Your Influence » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier
Pairings: Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Female Reader
Summary: Bucky’s so in love with you that he’s under your influence.
Warnings: Fluff, language, flirting, kissing, use of pet names
A/N: Thank you to the lovely anonymous person who requested this🩵 also I apologize for taking so long to get to your request. It took me a while to come up with an idea for your request.
Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes.
Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier
GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators. I found it on Pinterest.
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Bucky walked in the gym of the Avengers Compound to see you training with Natasha. He stood in the doorway and watched as you and Natasha sparred. He couldn’t help but become entranced with your fighting technique. The way you threw punches and kicks made him fall even more in love with you. Bucky has had a crush on you for a while now, but he’s not sure how to tell you how he feels about you. Bucky was so entranced by you that he didn’t hear Steve walk up behind him.
“What are you doing?” Steve asks, making Bucky jump.
“I- uhh… nothing.” Bucky says nervously.
Steve followed Bucky’s gaze to you.
“Oh I see what’s going on here.” Steve starts. “You’re impressed with Y/N’s improvement since she became an Avenger.” He says.
“Yes!” He said a little too fast. “I’m definitely impressed with her improvement.” He says, nervously smiling.
Steve stared at Bucky for a moment, knowing that something is going on with him, but he didn’t want to press on about it.
“Ok, well…” Steve patted Bucky’s shoulder. “See you later.” He says before walking away.
Bucky nodded and turned his attention back to you. Natasha glanced at Bucky and smirked.
“I think Barnes is staring at you.” Natasha whispers.
You turned your head to see Bucky looking at you. His face turned red in embarrassment when you caught him staring at you. He quickly left the gym, making you and Natasha giggle.
“The man is clearly in love with you.” She states. “It’s been years since he’s been in love” She says.
“You think he’s in love with me?” You asked.
“Yes!” She smiles. “You should talk to him!” She says.
“You know what…” You start, a smile forming on your face. “I just might.” You say.
Later that day, you walked in the lounge room to see Bucky filling out a mission report from a previous mission.
“Hi, Sarge!” You say, smiling.
“Hi, Y/N.” Bucky says, looking up from the mission report.
“You know…” You took a seat next to him on the couch. “I seen you staring at me when I was training with Nat earlier.” You say.
“I-I’m sorry.” He stutters. “I wasn’t trying to be creepy or anything.” He says, his cheeks turning red in embarrassment.
“It’s fine, Bucky.” You giggled, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You’re impressed with my fighting skills. Is that it?” You asked.
“Yes!” He said too fast. “Your fighting skills have improved a lot. Not that you’re bad at fighting, it’s just- I’m going to shut up before I say something to embarrass myself.” He says.
Bucky gathered his papers and stood up. You quickly grabbed his wrist before he walked away.
“Don’t leave.” You pouted. “I like hearing you talk.” You say.
“Y-You do?” He asks, stuttering.
Bucky hasn’t felt this nervous around a girl since he was a teenager.
“Yes.” You stand up. “I like seeing those handsome lips moving when you’re talking.” You say in a flirty tone.
Bucky’s breath hitched in his throat when you reached up to rub your thumb across his bottom lip. He stared deep in your eyes as you leaned in and kissed him, standing on your tippy toes to reach his lips due to the height difference. Bucky was caught by surprise, but kissed you back. He tossed the mission report on the couch and placed his hands on your waist, pulling your body against his. You left him breathless when you pulled away.
“Holy shit…” Bucky says breathlessly.
You couldn’t help but giggle.
“Looks like I have you under my influence, Sarge.” You say in a flirty tone.
“I’ve been under your influence since the day we met.” He says.
“Oh yea?” You bit your bottom lip and stood on your tippy toes. “I love having you under my influence.” You whispered in his ear, sending a shiver through his body.
“Me too.” He says, kissing you again.
🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵
-Bucky’s Doll
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atombombkaytee · 1 day
Text
I’ve watched the entire series again today in a hungover state and I CAN’T DEAL with all the parallels.
I mean, when Lucy finds out about her Dad’s true actions and origins - her whole world falls apart. She saw the vaults as safety - she looked up to her Dad more than anyone else in the world. She learns that he’s lied about who he is as a man and as her father, but also she must realise that the vault’s are hiding their own dirty secrets (especially after her experience at vault 4) and that her Dad is a part of that too. She even says to Max, after leaving vault 4, that if she destroyed a whole community to save him, he would be heartbroken: when that’s exactly what he did on an even grander and more terrible scale. Lucy’s life wasn’t even in direct danger to warrant that reaction - he’s just an insecure selfish arsehole.
At the very same time we see the flashback scene of Coop hearing Barb suggest that they drop the bombs on America. This woman that he loves and trusts and has made a family with - who he said he fell in love with because she always tries to do the right thing. Their reactions at the point of realisation - shock, inability to speak, almost dissociation - are both extremely similar. Him having gone through that betrayal before (and likely plenty of times since) is EXACTLY why he talks to Lucy how he does. He’s preparing her for the eventual heartbreak - because he has experience which states that nothing could ever be as perfect as she claims her life is. When he’s making ass jerky from Roger, he even tells her: there’s what people say they do and then there’s what they really do.
When you look at all of that, really, in the scheme of things, Coop - the man that she’s seen as this inhuman, cruel, murderous monster - he’s the good guy. He too thought his wife’s business with vault tec was abhorrent. Yes, he’s been warped and twisted by the wasteland and by his own trauma - but he does see this brightness in Lucy. He thought she was just naive and full of bullshit (especially being a vault dweller. Something which I’m sure triggered him considering his past with vault tec and the links to his wife) but when she proved herself by giving him the vials instead of letting him die, he’s probably amazed that there’s someone left in the world who isn’t just a liar and a terrible person. He’s so used to betrayal and violence by this point. She’s a good person - a trait that he literally said he was in love with his wife because of. She softens him.
But she also proves herself in another way - by shooting her feralled mother - showing that she’s also grown and learnt that not everything is black and white. It’s not just “good and bad” in this world. And although Coop has questionable morals, he’s honest, like her. He tells it how it is. Plus, after her Dad’s huge life changing betrayal and her time in the wasteland, she understands a little more why Coop has done all the things that she’s seen him do - I mean he did meet her pretty much day one out of the vault initially - hence why she goes with him. He has hardened her up to protect her in the wasteland.
Wilzig even says “will you still want the same things when you’re a different animal altogether.”
My god. It’s just genius. Absolutely genius.
“You comin’?”
Edit: Can we also talk about how Coop is basically the inspiration for the vault boy - who Lucy basically looks to (physically a few times throughout the series) for inspiration to do the right thing. AND the fact that her Dad was obviously a bit obsessed with Coop and probably still was when Lucy was born, seeing as he’d been in a pod and had only just woken up, retaining recent memories. So Lucy likely watched all of his films and her Dad maybe even saw him as a bit of a role model (or at least his in-film characters). AND the obvious exchange of index fingers. Yup. Honestly if this relationship doesn’t become cannon, I will start dropping bombs too.
ANOTHER EDIT: Sorry one last thing but, I just want to add: nothing that post-war Coop does is personal. It’s either: to get a job done, survival, because he’s been triggered by something (understandable after what’s he been through) or, in Lucy’s case, to teach a (admittedly often harsh) lesson. He doesn’t just mindlessly kill - or particularly enjoy killing - he just has no issue with it, it’s all just means to an end. He even still remembers to pay for his tomatoes in Filly ffs haha… I imagine he’s extremely numb and devoid of all feeling - except for when it comes to his wife and little girl. That’s the only time we see more visceral reactions in either actions or dialogue from him. He’s such an intricate character and Walton did an amazing job of portraying him.
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rindousbbg · 2 days
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Summery: You guys broke up due to a stupid reason and he's getting you back no matter what.
Genre: Fluff
Warning: None
Requested: No
A/n: took so long, finished it long time ago but forgot to post 😭. Reblogs are appreciated.
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Mikey wasn't certainly good at most of the things but love. He never understood the concept of the word called love. Surely he never dated, he was too occupied with gang shit that he never really thought of love and to give any attention towards it.
Until you came and swept him off his feet. You weren't more special than any girl, you were simple and kind like the rest of them. But what made his heart flutter when you respected his passion for his gang? Brought him his favourite snack-dorayaki. When you comfort him all the time whenever he gets upset because of his dead brother. You never left him or made him feel small.
He was very glad because of that but yet after getting into a relationship you both shortly broke up after 1 year. Why? You still questioned yourself.
Was it because you have gotten chubbier? Or was it because you have gotten skinnier and it made you look like a skeleton? Or was it because he was ashamed to call you his girlfriend in front of everyone or was it because he was simply tired of you, your nagging and the simple gesture of being worried for him? You still wonder about that.
But why does it hurt Manjiro so much to look at you with another boy instead of him?? Something isn't right when you are with someone else, you should be with him. He was shameless after practically breaking up with you for no reason and a proper explanation he still wanted you to look after him and only him. Call him possesive but isn't what he is?
"Are you dating him?"
A cold voice spoke out behind you making you immediately turn.
"What are you...doing here?"
You spoke slowly, too shocked to say anything. He was the least expected person to be here.
You were waiting for your name co-worker to come back from the store since you needed some food supplies.
"You didn't answer my question"
"You didn't either"
He blankly stared at you.
"You have bad taste"
"Huh"
You questioned him.
"What do you mean?"
"Your taste has gotten worse"
You widen your eyes at his statement, what does he mean by that? Was he thinking you and your co-worker are dating and that's why he is saying? Or something else.
Questions after questions keep flooding inside your head making your head spin.
"We aren't..dating"
"Really?"
You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his statement.
"What you are doing here anyway?"
"To buy dorayaki what else...don't think I'm stalking you or something"
His tone changed after your last statement, which makes you wonder if was it really because he was relived you weren't dating your co-worker or if was it because he has bipolar disorder.
"Okay, I guess"
You decided to walk away from him. But he keeps catching up with his bike. You stopped in your tracks.
"What do you want?"
"Aight, let's get back together"
You stared at him as if he was talking gibberish.
"Are you for real?"
"For real"
he smiled confidently.
"No, we broke up already"
"Well we did but it was your fault anyway"
He gasped dramatically and shook his head at you imitating a hurt expression.
"You ate my dorayaki".
He exclaimed once again.
"Geez Mikey it was just a dorayaki"
You rolled your eyes.
"See, that's a valid reason"
you stared at him for some seconds and started to walk away as fast as you could.
"Wait!"
"What now?"
He took a deep breath.
"Sorry."
"for?"
"I took this matter too far"
"You did"
He wondered everywhere except you, he was trying to find words to tell you but looks like he could not find any.
"Ken-chin told me that it was too childish and I was immature acting like a kid"
"He is right and you are a kid though"
His eyes darkened.
"I'm sorry. Please don't leave me. I couldn't fall asleep nor eat peacefully"
"So you are bringing me back just for your own benifit?"
He shakes his head.
"No. You are kind of my habit. Just like people can't spend a day without blinking their eyes I can't spend my day without you, I need you. Please forgive me and let's get back together"
"That was... lowkey cringe"
You murmured to yourself.
"I heard that"
"I missed you"
He smiled.
"Hop on my bike already"
You did as he said and drove off somewhere. It was already evening. He stopped, parking the bike somewhere.
"Mikey?"
He hummed.
"Will you leave me ever again? For somebody else?"
You asked him.
"Never."
"How can I believe you? You broke up with me because of a dorayaki."
He realized how big of a matter it was to you. He felt bad for making you feel this way.
"Come here!"
You did and closed the distance between you and him.
"Would you mind?"
He pointed at your lips. You understood what he meant and slowly nodded.
Soon he brought his lips closer to yours and placed his lips onto yours, it was a soft and gentle kiss. Mikey didn't have to say anything after it. The kiss said enough about how he misses you. The slight desperation was visible that he had missed you.
Shortly after, he pulled away.
"I don't know about promises or keeping them but I promise that I won't do that again"
You both stared into each other's eyes once again.
"You sure?"
He gave you a small smile and leaned once again to let his lips collide with yours to tell you the answer.
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