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tojikai · 10 months

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SUNDERED

Pairing: Gojo x reader

Genre: Angst

tags/cw: angst, mean!gojo(kinda), babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader, motherhood, insecurities, arguments

word count: 3.2k

One woman’s life lesson is another woman’s better man.

❧ babydaddy!Gojo intentionally runs into you when you’re buying groceries just to show you his girlfriend. The woman was your classmate from high school. At the first meeting, she was shy and tried avoiding your gaze but Satoru just had to call you and ask something about your daughter. Completely unnecessary but he’s just that much of a jerk. Once was considered an accident. But when it happened two, then three times, you already know that you have to change your shopping schedule.

❧ babydaddy!Gojo picks up his daughter from your house an hour late, rubbing on your face that he overslept because he spent “some time” with his girlfriend last night. Distasteful and disrespectful, but you let it slide cause he seems happy. You don’t want to be a killjoy, right? You were never his girlfriend, to begin with. Just someone he got pregnant from a one-night stand.

❧ babydaddy!Gojo posts pictures of his day out with his daughter online. His girlfriend carrying your kid as the three of them wear matching Mickey and Minnie Mouse headbands. You could only scroll past and continue your work to busy yourself. Maybe you should stop lurking around social media and just use your phone for important messages. Maybe you should also lose feelings for someone who never harbored genuine ones for you in the first place.

❧ babydaddy!Gojo always lets his girlfriend open the door for you when you’re picking up your daughter from his house on weekends. He leans back on the couch, watching you grab your daughter’s things, opening his arms to cuddle with his girlfriend before you even get to walk out the door. It made you feel pathetic and small but what can you do? There’s simply no place for you in that house.

❧ babydaddy!Gojo insists that you spend more time together for the sake of your daughter. You agreed to it and now, you had to sit in the back of the car with your daughter as he drives his girlfriend to work. It made you feel sick and nauseous that you were only able to spend half a day with them before you decided to go home and sleep the day away. Maybe when you wake up, you’ll find it in you to hate him.

“Mommy? Call her, love.” Gojo used a higher voice to encourage his daughter to call you. He knows that he was foul for what happened earlier. But what is he gonna do? He can’t reject his girlfriend’s request, plus it was only a ride. It’s not like she was with you for the whole day. Still, he doesn’t think it’s the reason why you left early. You might be feeling…tired. Even if it was Saturday yesterday and you have no work. You might still feel fatigued on Sunday, right?

“Mama!” The little girl mimicked pointing upstairs. Satoru sighed placing her little bag on a nearby chair as he made his way upstairs. He figured that if you’re still asleep, he could just wait for you to wake up and just look after his daughter here. You’re a single mother for 4 days a week, and on top of that, you also have work. You literally don’t have time to rest. He told himself that he needs to stop messing around just to get a reaction from you.

Reaching your room, Satoru knocked on the door three times, calling out your name when you didn’t answer. “Wait a second.” You voiced out from the other side, “I’m just gonna call my mom, can you wait for her?” You suppressed a cough at the end of the sentence but it didn’t go unnoticed by Satoru. “Are you sick? I could take her back to my house, we’ll look after her until you feel better. ” The suggestion made your stomach churn. They get to play house with your kid and here you are, being miserable.

You shook your head, realizing how bitter you sounded. She wasn’t unkind in any way to your baby but something in you hurts when you think of them giving your daughter the family experience that you cannot provide. You and Satoru tried to work things out but you just can’t get on the same page. Instead of trying to be better for you and your daughter, he decided to fuck around and date someone else instead.

You wouldn’t say that your name was clean. What with a couple of threats such as finding someone who could act right. You just didn’t think that he’d really leave. It hurt but now you’re getting yourself used to the feeling. Maybe he just couldn’t act right with you. Because why is he so good with his girlfriend now? She tamed him, as he once boasted to you during a fight.

“I’m stuck with a child that I have with you, but not with you.” He pointed out, leaving a searing pain in your chest. “There’s no way I’m letting that happen.” Tears were starting to form in your eyes as the words come out of his mouth. How could he say something so cruel to you, the mother of his child? All you did was tell him that his girlfriend was getting kind of too much after she told you what to do with your child. And now he’s making you the villain.

“I just told her that—” You tried to explain, voice starting to shake. “If that’s all you did, she wouldn’t come to me crying, Y/N.” You just can’t believe that you’re fighting over this. You already have so much to think about and now this, you also have to be cautious about his girl. “She told you herself, I just didn’t want her telling me how to raise my child!”

“Of course, she wouldn’t tell me that you’re being harsh to her. Unlike you, she’s actually kind and considerate of other people’s feelings.” You looked down, letting out a strangled sob escape your throat before quickly wiping away the forming tears in your eyes as you turn away from him. Why was he never this defensive of you? He didn’t even try to fight for you when his girlfriend convinced him to take your daughter with them on a trip. Without your permission.

And now he’s talking as if you’ve been nothing but a disturbance in his relationship with her. Everything's just unfair. Yet, you just let it slide because you wanted nothing but peace for your baby. “I don’t want to have this conversation with you anymore, Satoru. You’ve said enough.” You sniffed, walking to your daughter’s room to check if the noises woke her up. Satoru was left standing there, processing all the things that he said.

He watched you disappear into the dark hallway of your apartment, shoulders shaking with your head hung low. Even if he can’t see your face, he can tell that you’re crying and it made him feel like shit. He went overboard, didn’t he? “Fuck.” He threw his keys on the couch, running his fingers through his hair. He wanted to apologize but at the same time, he wanted to prove his point. His girlfriend was only trying to help and you took it the wrong way.

At that time, Satoru thought that maybe she was right. You’re just getting kinda jealous that she could spend time with your daughter and Satoru more and now you’re being too sensitive, letting out your irritation on her. She said that it was a natural feeling for a mother to feel that way but Satoru can’t let you treat his girlfriend like shit just because of your pettiness and jealousy. You have to learn to adjust and accept that some things are gonna be the way they are because of your setup.

As for you, you felt hurt. Neglected even when you know that you’re not supposed to receive as much attention, much less protection from him. His priority is your child, but not you. You have no choice but to talk and work everything out with them for the sake of your daughter. You know that you could start dating someone of your choice but you wished that it would be that easy. You just want to focus on your daughter and if you’re gonna find someone, you want them to love her as much as you do.

You wonder what you lacked that couldn’t soften him the way he did to her. You started to think that you’re the problem and that is why you couldn’t fix him as easily as she did.

You stood up, opening the door for him seeing your two-year-old, reach out to you. “Mama’s sick, love, sorry.” You covered your mouth, blinking away the heaviness in your eyes. Satoru watched you pack your daughter’s things. “If you’re gonna be busy, just tell me. I’ll just contact Mom. She can be with you for a few days, just until my cold is gone.” You murmured, counting the diapers to put in her baby bag.

You don’t want to be away from her, but letting her stay with you when you’re like this puts her at risk and that’s the last thing you want. You can’t stand seeing your daughter through pain and you’re pretty sure it’s the same for his dad. Begrudgingly, you placed the bag in front of Satoru before reaching over for her favorite toy. You smiled at how she squealed when she saw it.

“You know we’re never too busy to take care of her. Just rest, so you’ll get better soon.” You swallowed, nodding your head slowly as you thought of what else they should take. “Yeah, I’ll be picking her up.” You kept your distance from her, sitting down as you felt your head spinning a bit. “Do you...do you have medicine, though? I could get some if you want,” Satoru can tell that you’re really sick and despite his situation with you, he can’t just let you be when you’re like this. You’re still the mother of his child.

“No, it’s fine. I have some here. Just take care of her.” Your voice was hoarse and your daughter was starting to reach out for you again as if sensing that something was wrong so you urged Satoru to get going. “Be good, okay?” You waved as she watched you with her curious eyes but waved back, nonetheless. You wouldn’t admit it but you feel envious that they could be happy together with her. You’re afraid that one day she’ll prefer being with them over you.

As for your feelings for Satoru, you hated thinking or talking about it. You’re obviously in love with him, but you wouldn’t acknowledge that yourself, either. You fought too much, you hurt each other too much. Other than that, there’s no point for your feelings now that he has someone he really loves and truly cares about.

You never experienced the boyfriend-girlfriend stage with Satoru. It’s like one day, you just woke up and you’re already parents. You can’t blame him for not having real feelings for you. You do your best to be as civil to them as you can be but sometimes his girlfriend’s just out of bounds. And after a couple of painful fights with Satoru regarding her, it just became too much for you.

You’re just tired of feeling like a wedge to someone’s healthy relationship. That’s how Satoru makes you feel and you just can’t take any ache from that.

Another thing that you deny to yourself is the hope that you might fix this all. There are always what-ifs in your mind, and you would never tell Satoru about them. He’ll probably laugh at you and your threats that you’re gonna be with someone who truly makes you happy. You would never destroy his relationship just because yours didn’t work. If you have to cover your eyes, look away and pretend to be deaf every time they’re around you, you would.

You often think about what it would be like if he settled down with his girl; if they decided to get married and have a family of their own. You don’t want your daughter to feel left out. You don’t want her to feel like she doesn’t have her own family in the middle of them. You also wondered if you’d have moved on by then. You hope so. You don’t want to be this pitiful and heartbroken forever.

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

After a couple of days, you’re finally feeling well. You got up early and sent Satoru a text that you’ll be picking up your baby in a few hours. You missed her and her giggles so much. The house was clean during the past days but you very much prefer it to be messy, as long a she’s there. You’ll never mind getting up in the middle of the night or waking up extra early for her.

Arriving at Satoru’s residence, you rang the doorbell as you waited patiently for someone to open the gate for you. You were hoping that it would be your baby girl, extending her short, chubby arms to you but instead, it was Satoru’s girlfriend. “Come in, she’s still playing inside.” She smiled at you, opening the metal door wider. “Thanks, I messaged Satoru that I was coming to pick her up. Is she ready?” You asked her as you walked to their front door.

“She is, but she’s kinda fussy about it. Satoru bought her a huge playpen and she just wouldn’t get out of it. She’s enjoying a lot.” She tucked a hair behind her ear and you can’t help but feel conscious of how you look. Opening the door, you were welcomed by the sight of Satoru lying down with his daughter in the said enclosure. She was fiddling with a toy as they watched on the big screen.

Her favorite toy was at the corner, and for some reason, it left a pang in your chest.

“Sweetie, someone’s here for you.” You hated the way she phrased it but you know that she doesn’t mean for it to be offensive or rude to you. The little girl looked up with her binky in her mouth, blinking before smiling at you. “Oh, you’re already here. She wouldn’t let me out of the playpen.” Satoru explained, probably thinking that you didn’t appreciate that it had to be his girlfriend opening the door for you.

“It’s alright. I don’t mind.” This place always made you feel like you’re an outsider. Probably because you are and it didn’t help that they’re making you feel like it. “Mama!” She waved at you, pointing at the screen as she sat down. “That’s a nice show, love. Maybe we could just continue watching it at home?” You know that she doesn’t have a big playpen there. The screen isn’t that big, either. She suddenly lied back down, whimpering as she kicked her tiny feet. You felt like telling her that you’d work hard to buy her that too.

She doesn’t want to go home yet and that’s what you feared.

“Baby, mom’s here. She missed you.” Satoru called out but to no avail. He came to lift her up, trying to see if she was just being too lazy to get up. Her eyes were glued to the television as she sucked on her pacifier. She was too into it, pointing the show to everyone before smiling at you. Oh, how you missed that smile. “Let’s go, now.” You cooed at her, softly clapping your hands.

When you tried to reach for her as Satoru leans her close to you, she started wiggling around. “Down, Mama! Wait.” Her cute language never ceases to make your heart swell with joy despite the fact that she’s trying to get away from you. She runs away, stopping to look around before going to Satoru’s girlfriend and hugging her leg. She was in awe when she picked up your daughter.

So… she’s who your daughter’s referring to by…Mama. You could almost hear your heart shatter at the realization. Since when did she start calling her Mama?

“You don’t wanna go home yet? But Mom’s here.” She talked in her baby voice and you don’t know if you’re gonna be happy that she treats your daughter really well or jealous that she came running to her when she don’t want to do something. Satoru went up to them, leaving you standing a few meters away. You don’t like what you’re seeing aside from your daughter.

“It’s not good to ignore Mama.” Satoru tapped her nose with his finger which she cutely swatted away, eliciting a chuckle from him. “Y/N, I was thinking… maybe I could just, uh, take her home later in the day. This playpen just arrived yesterday and you know how kids are…” He laughed nervously, struggling to find a nice way to say that your daughter won’t be coming home yet.

“Yesterday, I was joking about giving her playmates and she was so excited, she was running around.” His girlfriend giggled as she shared. It was a simple story yet it was a thorn to your heart. Why does it seem like your every nightmare is coming to life? You just smiled at her, understanding that she was talking about giving your daughter siblings. Satoru was silent, but you didn’t dare look at his face. You know that it’s in their future plans and you don’t have to see him smiling about it too.

“That’s adorable..” You don’t know what else to say, so you just nodded your head slowly, blinking quickly so as to bring yourself back to reality. His place was huge compared to your apartment. The playpen looks so much more comfortable than the crib she has at your place. She has new toys and a mom and dad by her side. So, now she doesn’t want to leave. Suddenly, you can feel the weakness in your knees from when you were sick starting to come back. You cleared your throat as you straightened yourself.

“J-just take her home later. I, uh, bought something for her.” You lied, knowing that you still have to go looking for something you can buy for your lovely child. You wanted to snatch her away from Satoru’s girlfriend, her other mom, but the giggle flowing out of her lips are too precious for you to ruin; the smile on her face as she tickled her tummy was too priceless. Look at them, you told yourself as you started to feel farther and farther away from their little world. They’re a picture of a happy family.

“I’ll see you later, honey…” You whispered, giving her head a pat as she looked up at you with her big, cerulean eyes. You didn’t wait for any of them to walk you out, you just let your feet take you out of their home, not daring to look back for the fear of breaking down. Your fingers tremble along with your lips and the tiny droplets of rain felt like acid on your skin. Maybe what they say was true. We experience people differently.

One woman’s life lesson is another woman’s better man.

#angst #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo angst #gojo x you #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk #jjk x reader

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nohj3 · 1 year

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I challenged myself to write a post today.

But i have no idea what to say and nothing interesting happened to me today.

So this us all you get Dx

#personal post #i mean...#i guess my mother #whose a hair transphobic #learned today that not every trans girl is a top #like she assumed that if you had a dick it would be literal torture not to use it #and like...#this awkward conversation involved me explaining to her how gay sex worked #me learning that she would love to have a Dick and is jealous of them #but wouldn't wanna be guy #she literally cannot fathom why i would want to be girl. saying it's just wrong. that everyone would choose to be guy if given the option #again specifying that she specfically doesn't. but that she's weird for that. because everyone clearly would.#and I'm like #aren't you the person who 5 minutes Ago told me about how when you were my age you'd wear a stuffed bandana around your waist to hide your #figure? and bfor that complained to me that you didn't like how you looked in shirts Because your shoulders werent broad enough?#And she's like #well i never hid my chest. i wasn't trying to not look like a girl #but not actually having to deal with girl stuff *would* be pretty great. i can see why someome would want that. being a girl sucks #but not me. i wouldn't do that. ID hero the Dick i #though. i mean its your life or whatever. but i wouldn't give that up.#and I'm like. not trying to hide your chest? you're ALWAYS trying to hide your chest.#she's like it's not professional for them to be distractingly and noticeably sized that's not hiding them. that's putting them away for now #it was a whole thing. wild convo

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youkissedareaderinthedark · 5 months

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Sunshine

Synopsis: You are the youngest and only daughter of the Leclerc family, and no matter how much he tries to hide it, Charles can’t deny you’re his favorite

monegasque female leclerc reader x brother charles leclerc

A/N: let’s say that y/n was born in 2006, making her about 17 now, 15 years younnger younger than lorenzo, 9 years younger than charles, and 6 younger than arthur

. so

. pascale leclerc has always wanted a daughter

. a little girl she could love and spoil with all her heart

. don’t get me wrong, she loves her sons with all of her being

. but i’d be lying if i said she’s never wished for another girl in the house

. the rest of the leclercs know this

. so it wasn’t a big suprise when she told everyone that she was pregnant in 2005

. and nearly cried of happiness when she learned she was carrying a baby girl

. now at first

. 8 year old charles leclerc didn’t know how he felt about this

. because he already has 5 year old arthur following him around everywhere

. what would it be like with another sibling in the house?

. so he wasn’t entirely thrilled at first

. but the second pascale and herve brought you home from the hospital a few months later

. he knew he’d love you no matter what

. his friends at school constantly talk about how annoying their baby sisters are

. but charles is always more endeared with you rather than annoyed

. he would play and watch kid shows with you for days on end if that’s what you wanted

. would be lying if he said he’s never played pretend with you

. repeatedly asked for pascale to allow you to come to his karting races

. something that didn’t happen until you were 3

. shows you off to all of his friends at said races

. “you see that baby over there with my maman? that’s my sister, y/n”

. “she doesn’t really know what’s going on, but she always cheers for me anyway”

. charles makes sure he’s there for every milestone in your life

. first day of school

. the first time you drove a kart

. when you learned how to ride a bike

. etcetera

. it does get harder as the years go on, with his karting career continuing and everything

. but your brother makes sure he’s there for you

. because no matter how busy he gets

. he’s never too occupied to see you discover yourself

. finding your own personality and hobbies

. interests and dislikes

. this has all happened by the time you’re 9 years old

. nearing the end of your childhood but still enjoying it nonethless

. pascale even lets you follow charles to formula 1 races, because she knows he’s really following jules bianchi

. your older brother loves when you come with him to races

. but he wishes more than anything your mother made you stay home with her instead of going to suzuka with him

. because he knows you love jules

. he’s like another brother to you

. he’s always the one to have you sitting on top of his shoulders, doing anything to help you see more than the world you were given (both literally and figuratively)

. jules was the one who gave you his kart to practice with

. the one that taught you everything you know about cars

. the one that taught you to always dream for more

. the one that taught you what grief felt like

. charles remembers the moment it happened, the crash, the noise, the shock

. the way you looked up at him, your 9 year old self not old enough to realize what just happened

. “charlie, what happened? where’s jules?”

. he remembers how much you cried in the hospital, looking way too young to be sitting in those waiting room chairs and losing one of the people you loved the most

. he remembers hearing you sob in your room when you got home, how helpless he felt that he couldn’t do anything to stop his own emotions, nonetheless his baby sisters’

. he remembers how instead of driving the kart jules left you, most of the time you just sat in front of it, staring at it, wishing jules would come outside like he always would, and persuade pascale to let you two drive around for just a few more hours

. arthur was the one who looked out for you in these times, because charles was too busy either being looked after by lorenzo, or trying to drive his own feelings away in formula championships

. 2015 was a sorrowful year in the leclerc household

. so it makes sense that charles is happy when you start to show some progress in late 2016

. when you start to drive your kart again, improved by the JB17 stickers you start to put everywhere

. you start enjoying school again, hanging out with your friends and playing outside

. it almost gives him hope

. almost

. because by 2017, charles is nervous

. because herve is getting worse

. and charles knows his litter sister, you’re not stupid

. you can tell that your father is sick, and he’s not going to be get better

. he tries to subtly encourage you to spend more time with him

. makes sure you tell him all your stories from school, tell him what you want to be when you’re older and what you want to do

. soon enough though, you can’t do these things because your father was emitted into the hospital

. charles is nearly twenty now, he’s old enough for his mother to give him the truth about these sorts of things

. but still not old enough to tell his eleven year old sister the truth

. the whole family is there with herve in the hospital in june 2017

. none of them are ready to lose another one of their own again

. you’re sobbing, arthur’s arms wrapped around you and hand pushing your head into his neck because he know you shouldn’t have to see this

. lorenzo is the only thing keeping both his mother and first younger brother standing, all while trying to keep his own tears from blurring his vision

. this time, you don’t let anybody help you

. you never leave your room, only to go to school and to eat

. you stopped karting completely, not wanting to unless your father was standing on the front porch, cheering you on and giving advice from where he stood

. you don’t come to either arthur’s or charles’ races, not the one charles wins after herve dies, not the ones he continues to win after that

. the family almost forgets what your smile looks like, they only remember the faint sound of your cries at night

. charles beats himself up over it, feels guilty and helpless

. he couldn’t stop jules from crashing, couldn’t stop his father from getting sick, and can’t even protect his younger sister from losing herself

. he tries his hardest to be there for you, to hug you, tell you he loves you, and that he’s always there if you want to talk

. he waits as long as it takes for you to open up to him

. it comes eventually, the day you knock on his bedroom door and let yourself talk and cry in his arms

. it takes much longer for you to co-exist with your grief this time

. but charles is there for every step of the way

. you go to his first formula 1 race with him in 2018, cheer him on from the sauber garage with lorenzo and pascale no matter what position he comes in

. you hang out with arthur while he’s racing in formula e and formula 4, cheer for him just as loudly, if not louder than you would for charles

. you’re 12 by the time 2018 ends, but feel much older than you actually are

. this is the point where you and charles bond on a deeper level

. because whereas the rest of the world just sees you as a tweleve-year-old girl

. charles see you as a twelve-year-old girl who’s been through more than she should’ve, and now feels the emotions to match

. so as time continues to pass, you guys talk about the real stuff in your lives

. he talks about joining ferrari and what it feels like to do what jules had always wanted to

. what it felt like lying to your father about the ferrari contract and how he wonders what herve thinks about it now

. you talk about what it feels like going through life without a father

. what it feels like fearing for your brothers’ lives every time they get into their cars

. he tries to help you get over this fear by bringing you to the paddock with him

. which includes becoming friends with andrea after all the hours you two spend side by side in the ferrari garage

. meeting sebastian who instantly becomes a mentor to you

. you’ve known pierre for longer than you can remember, so you hang out in his team garage sometimes

. your brother tries to keep an eye on you while your in the paddock, but as you get older, the more freedom you have

. by the time you’re 15 in 2021, you roam around the paddock on your own free will

. with carlos joining ferrari, you hang out with his younger sister ana, who leads you on all sorts of adventures in whatever city you two are in that weekend

. meeting all sorts of celebrities while you’re walking down the pit lane on sundays

. spending time in the aston martin hospitality because you’re still close with seb

. passing time with lewis in the mercedes garage, he sheds some of his wisdom on you, you tell him all the drama in your life

. bothering pierre while simultaneously befriending yuki in the alpha tauri garage

. and of course, hanging out with charles in the rare moments when you both have nothing do to

. these are the antics that carry on throughout your late teenage years

. so by the time the end of 2023 rolls around, you’re close to graduating school and moving on to whatever you wish to pursue

. it’s in those moments, the ones where you’re talking about college and moving away and your career

. truly makes him realize that you’re growing up

. and you’re not the little girl that will always be there to cheer him on from the stands

. you assure him that you will though

. that wherever you end up, still in monaco or not

. you’ll always be rooting for him

. and he knows he’ll always be rooting for you too

. because you’re his little sister

. and he loves you more than you know

#reader insert #formula 1 #f1 grid x reader #formula 1 driver imagines #platonic f1 grid #f1 2023 grid x y/n #f1 imagine #charles leclerc #older brother charles leclerc #sibling fic #leclerc!reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x sister!reader

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disneyprincemuke · 2 months

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✧.* the parent trap / ls2 *.✧

while luna's observant nature is typically a blessing, you suddenly find yourself a part of her little games after you and logan get into a fight that leaves you refusing to talk to one another

notes: i missed dad!logan so here we are

“love,” logan sighs as his hand comes up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “come on.”

“don’t even say that to me!” you shriek before turning to walk away from him. “no, seriously, logan. i no longer want to speak to you.”

“you can’t just do that!”

“yeah, i can! watch me!”

marriage is fun, they said. though you actually cannot remember who specifically said that to you, or is that something you told yourself to make yourself feel better for getting married at 20?

either way, it’s tough juggling being a wife to an athlete who is rarely home, your job and a 5-year-old. you just wish someone had talked some sense into you before you decided that teenage pregnancy was smart.

spoiler alert: it, in fact, is not.

so you spend the night in the guest room by yourself with frustration in your veins. you could have opted to continue arguing with logan, but the sleeping toddler just a door down just makes it so difficult to continue.

your ability to turn a petty argument into a full fledged argument has bled into your marriage, and you have to admit that both of you are still slowly still figuring that part out.

it’s a lot harder than you thought.

you fall asleep after tossing and turning for hours, not used to the stiffness of the bed in the guest bedroom that’s only ever lived in when logan’s brother comes for a visit. the sheets smell too clean and the room is neat — you’re rarely inside, only using it as luna’s makeshift playroom at times.

so imagine the toddler’s shock when she knocks on the master bedroom door and stumbles in only to find one parent under the sheets. and it’s not even the same as before: she’d half expected you laying by yourself but not this time. it’s just logan.

considering logan is rarely home makes it all the more perplexing for the blue eyed kid.

she hums, climbing over logan who’s lying on his side. “where’s mummy?”

“mummy needed some ‘me time’,” logan grins, peeking through an eye as luna climbs under the sheets, nuzzling herself into his arms. “mummy is sleeping in the next room over.”

luna hums, nodding understandingly though concerned for her mother. she contemplates checking on you briefly, but the minute logan’s soft snores filled the empty room again, she knew she was stuck in place for the next couple of minutes until logan remembers that luna is here to wake you both up for breakfast.

so she sighs, closing her eyes and forcing herself into a slumber again to ignore her grumbling stomach. and because she hasn’t seen logan for 2 weeks, so this is kinda nice.

luna is awoken by the smell of pancakes and she knows instantly that you’ve finally rolled out of bed and mummy’s ‘me time’ is finally over. she scrambles out of logan’s arms, completely unaware of the deep slumber that her father has slipped into, interrupted by her thrashing around.

“mummy!” the girl screeches as she opens the door, stuffed koala locked between her arm and her body. “are those pancakes?”

“good morning, lulu,” you greet her, setting a plate down on the table. she greets you softly, wobbling over to you and tiptoeing when you press a kiss to the top of her head. “you slept with daddy?”

“i went in to wake him up,” she mutters, climbing onto the seat next to you, “then we fell asleep again.”

logan stumbles out of the room as well, hair a mess and eyes still half open. he merely glances at you, catching your eye as you both consider acting civilised in front of your child. though your argument is fresh in both of your heads, he greets you nonchalantly as he passes you on his way to the kitchen.

he didn’t even have to look at the table to know that you’d only prepared breakfast for yourself and luna.

“morning,” you find yourself greeting him back with a small smile to play the part in front of luna. you hunch over again and pat luna. “do you wanna go out and do something today, lulu? let’s have a girls’ day?”

she hums again, leaning forward to grab her utensils. “without daddy?”

you tilt your head. “daddy’s not a girl.”

you see luna purse her lips, furrowing her eyebrows as she considers your offer. logan is only going to be home for a week and a half, and she knows that. but you can’t physically stand the thought of staying at home with logan in the vicinity, your argument still leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.

it’s just unfair that he was questioning your parenting decisions when he’s rarely here for luna the majority of the time. sure, you know how difficult it is for him to cope with the situation, always feeling like an absent father more often than not. but it’s not a good enough reason to question how you choose to deal with emergencies you deal with by yourself when he’s not home.

it’s not fair that he’d question your ability to be a parent to your sole child.

“okay,” luna shrugs with a smile. “can we go to build-a-bear?”

you smile and nod. “of course!”

it’s been 2 days since you’ve spoken to logan. both of you are running out of excuses to tell luna why you’re not sleeping in the same bed and why you’re practically ignoring one another.

acting civilised in front of the toddler seemed okay at first, until luna opened the door to the guest bedroom with a head tilt and questions on her lips.

“mummy, do you not love daddy anymore?”

you cannot begin to explain how fast you sat up and turned to the door with mirrored furrowed eyebrows and a head tilt. “luna, why would you ask me that?”

she shrugs with a frown, looking down at her feet. “did you fight?”

you sigh, closing your eyes. you always knew treating luna like a normal human being would bound to have it’s disadvantages. she’s a very well spoken 5-year-old, articulate and more spatially aware than you would like.

“mummy and daddy are just figuring something out,” you explain softly as she closes the door behind her and walks over to where you are. “but that doesn’t mean i don’t love him anymore. why would you say that?”

she climbs on the bed and settles herself on your lap, immediately nuzzling her face into your chest. “i’m just making sure. cause i still love daddy.”

“well, i still love daddy,” you grin, brushing her hair. “i’m just upset with him right now. like you with your friend in preschool, remember? but that doesn’t mean we won’t ever make up.”

luna hums throwing her head back with a grin. then she scrambles out of bed, koala stuffie still in her arms as she runs out of the room. “okay!”

“lulu, where are you going?”

she shrugs, tiptoeing as she opens the door to leave you. “it’s my playtime now.” she turns to you with a cheeky grin. “do you want to join me?”

you nod. “can i join you in a couple of minutes? mummy’s got some work to finish.”

she nods before she closes the door behind her. but while you think that she’s disappeared into the living room for playtime, she actually makes a sharp turn for the master bedroom to ask logan the same thing.

she opens the door, feigning sadness with her head hung low. she frowns as she looks at logan with puffed cheeks and sad eyes. “you still love mummy, don’t you?”

logan, who’d already been awake and on his phone, turns to his daughter with a bewildered expression. how long was he gone for that his daughter suddenly turned into some old woman stuck in a toddler’s body?

“what?”

her frown grows. “you don’t love mummy?”

“what?” logan throws his head back, putting his phone down. “of course i still love mummy! why would you think otherwise?”

she presses her lips together, squinting her eyes as she approaches logan slowly. “you and mummy have not dropped me off at uncle oscar’s to hang out without me,” she hums, keeping her gaze on logan. “you should hang out with mummy.”

logan hums, pressing his lips together. “soon, lulu. don’t you like spending time with us together at home?”

she climbs on the bed and hunches her back. she sighs exasperatedly and shrugs with her whole body before dropping her back on the bed. “you and mummy don’t even talk to each other.”

she tries probing logan for a confession like she did with you, clearly knowing the transparency that you share from spending everyday with her. logan, however, she’s constantly trying to figure out each time he spends at home with her. not to say that she doesn’t think she’s not close with her dad — because she is — it’s just a different dynamic.

“what if…” when logan continues to stare at her, she sighs softly. she sits up. “can you play tea party with me?”

he furrows his eyebrows, shocked by the sudden change in mood. “sure? but weren’t you going to ask me something?”

she shrugs, now climbing out of the bed. “nope.” she stands on her feet and looks at logan. “tea party?”

“of course!”

suddenly logan finds himself trying to squeeze into a chair that’s clearly too small for him, sipping on imaginary tea. his daughter sits opposite him and the stuffed koala between them. he finds a plastic tiara on his head as they sit in silence for the next minute or so.

a door opens and makes luna perk up and grin at logan, her green eyes piercing into his own. “we have a special guest.”

logan tilts his head. “do we?”

“yes!” luna throws her hands in the air with a giggle, watching you approach them with a soft smile. “mummy is finished with her work! she can join us for tea party now!”

you laugh, merely glancing at logan as you approach their little table. “do you want me to make actual tea, lulu? have you guys been drinking pretend tea this whole time?”

luna shrugs, running from the table to her play kitchen where her little kettle sits on top of the plastic stove. “yes. but i like pretend tea. daddy, though,” she glances at you with a small and playful smile before looking at logan, “maybe he wants big people tea.”

“daddy can make big people tea by himself,” you laugh.

she drops her smile. “but you should ask him.”

you force a smile to your face, stiffly turning over to your husband, hunched over as he plays with the koala’s ears. “do you?” he looks at you. “want big people tea?”

logan shrugs, leaving the koala alone as he hesitantly keeps eye contact with you. “maybe.”

before you could shoot back an answer, something about making it himself, luna perks up and stumbles into you. “i changed my mind, mummy. i want some tea, please.”

you gasp. “i thought you said i was a special guest!”

“oh!” you see the gears shift in luna’s head as she shyly looks over at logan with a shy grin, finger in her mouth. “daddy…”

“okay,” logan mutters, pushing himself off the plastic chair. “i’ll make tea.”

you hold back a laugh when he stands up, the plastic chair stuck around his hips as he struggles to pull it off himself. only then do you notice that luna’s forced him into another one of her pink tutu’s for the tea party.

“hey,” you poke luna’s stomach, prompting a soft giggle from the toddler, “how come only daddy gets the cute accessories?”

she gasps, eyes wide as she darts away from you. she sprints over to the small box in the corner of the room and practically jumps in to dig for something for you. “i’ve got a tiara for you too, mummy!”

she comes back with a couple of accessories while logan’s gone to make your family some tea. you hunch over for luna to put the tiara messily on your head, even giggling as she helps you put some fairy wings on.

logan comes back with the promised tea eventually, juggling a teapot in one hand with three pink little tea cups in the other. a set that logan had found somewhere during one of his races and he couldn’t resist not getting it for luna and her tea parties involving real drinks.

“thank you!” luna perks, smiling up at logan as he takes a seat. “you made tea for mummy too?”

“of course.”

she turns to you. “mummy, what do you–”

“thanks,” you say as you finally take a seat in one of the small chairs, unfortunately, next to logan.

“i brought sugar for your tea.”

you look down at the sugar packets now sitting in front of you on the table as luna pushes away all of her plastic sets of teapots and cups. you feel your chest warm up at the subtle gesture, smiling at him as he sets the little plastic table with everything in his hands. “thank you,” you find yourself whispering as he puts a cup in front of you.

“so lulu,” logan starts, “how has pre-school been?”

you see her green eyes sparkle, excited that logan’s asked about school. she’s got stories upon stories to tell him, starting with the friends she’s made lately and the fact that she’s gotten into her first fight with a friend (they eventually make up).

then she starts rambling about her karting races, giggling about how you never fail to take her every weekend and take her out for dessert afterwards.

luna forces your phone out of your pocket, making you pull pictures out of her in her race suit and pictures of her zooming past you during her races and practice. it forces you and logan closer slightly, and suddenly you realise what luna is doing.

it only took logan turning to you with crinkled eyes, giggling along with you when the picture of luna passed out in the back of the car with her mouth hung open pops up. you’ve been set up by your own toddler, conspiring to ensure that you and logan are making up sooner rather than later.

it’s almost genius. you barely even have the time to think where she’s gotten this sneaky trait from because she starts shaking you to show logan pictures you took of your short trip to your mother’s right before he came home.

“aw, lulu,” logan coos at the picture of her interacting with your parents’ dog, all cuddled up on the couch as she watches tv. “you like mika?”

“like mika?” you snort, “she loves mika. she forced the poor husky to sleep with her the entire 3 days we were there.”

without noticing, luna starts pulling back as you and logan finally find yourselves engaged in conversation about her. she silently takes her koala from the seat next to her, slowly walking over to the couch with her ipad hoping that you don’t notice her.

“and mika was okay with that?” logan laughs, throwing his head back. “she didn’t get mauled by a dog twice her size or something?”

you shake your head in amusement at his statement. “i guess not! mika was so fond of her. probably from the constant belly rubs that luna gave her upon arrival.”

logan hums, resting his chin in his hands, elbows on his knees as he leans into you. “we should get her a dog. someone to keep her company while you’re away for work, you know?”

“logan,” you huff, furrowing your eyebrows, “she’s enough work as it is. an additional mouth to feed would be too much for me.”

he purses his lips together. “she’s been asking for a dog forever though.” you suck in a deep breath, finding yourself ready to explain why your household does not require a dog. as if reading your mind, he waves his hand in the air. “actually, you’re right. we should wait until she’s a bit older.”

you smile at him, thankful that he immediately got where you were going with the conversation. you glance at your daughter, now swinging her feet in the air as she lies on her stomach on the couch, tapping away on her ipad. “by the way,” you whisper, “i think we just got bested by our toddler.”

he giggles along with you, scrunching his nose. “i know. she’s got a future in strategising, don’t you think?”

“definitely. i haven’t been outsmarted in a while until luna started growing up to be a menace.”

he sighs, smiling slightly at you. “i’m sorry for the other night. i didn’t mean to poke at you for your decision-making — i was just shocked. you have it hard enough being home alone with luna all the time. i shouldn’t have questioned you.”

you reach over to grab his hand, squeezing it. “i’m sorry too. i was a tad defensive.”

luna glances over at both of you, grinning to herself before returning her attention to her youtube video. suddenly all is right in the world and she’s counting hours to your announcement that she is being sent to uncle oscar’s house to spend the day so you can hang out by yourself.

@33-81 @darleneslane @happy-nico @nikfigueiredo @namgification @localwhoore

#logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant x you #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #ls2 #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagiens #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke mab

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cheriladycl01 · 2 months

Text

I cant do this anymore - George Russell x Wolff! Reader Part 5

Plot: You are the daughter of Toto Wolff team principle of Mercedes-AMG Petronas, you've worked your whole life to become an engineer. However, your dad has other ideas for you and doesn't want you to become a race engineer. You start to confide more in the Red Bull Racing Team Principle to help you get an engineering job, and see him as your present father figure.

Credit to russellius for the GIF

There was a pretty decent break between Brazil and Las Vegas, you spend the first week with Geri and Christian and their kids. You'd had a blast riding their horses, going for bike rides and lots of baking.

They of course let you stay with them in the spare bedroom, you went on a massive shopping spree with Geri getting some new clothes as you hadn't gone home and talked about everything you normally would with Suzie. You couldn't lie, you really missed her, especially the hugs she gave you.

However on the weekend before Vegas, Lewis had texted you seeing if you'd wanted to stay with him in Las Vegas for a bit. Lewis had known you since 2009, you were 9 years old. You always came to as many race weekends as you could, obsessed with F1 as much as your dad. You loved the fast cars and the smell of the fuel.

Here was were you were introduced to Suzie, it was perfect time really. You were a 9 year old girl, about to enter here teen years without a mother figure. And Suzie and you, got on like two peas in a pod.

In 2012 when he became the executive director in Williams you travelled with him. Your mum didn't want anything to do with you, so that left you to be home school. It wasn't easy in Williams, they were tight on money and resources despite Toto's financial contributions to the team and no-body had time for you it seemed.

The next year when your dad moved to Mercedes, that had a slightly bigger budget and more time around the paddock was when it became easier.

The engineers helped you with your math's and science while marketing and legal would help you with your English. That's where your love of engineering came from.

Lewis would often stay with you, he and Nico were like brothers and they couldn't help but see you like a little sister with the relentless teasing they put you through.

As you got older, Toto paid for you to have an online tutor so you could sit your GCSE's at some point. 2016 was probably the worst year you had on record apart from everything that's happened in 2023.

You could tell that when they started to compete for the championship in 2014 that things were getting tense between them, they tried to keep it to themselves but you could tell with the post race interviews and how they didn't want to hang out as much together with you.

But in 2016, when Nico won and their friendship had pretty much crumbled as far as it could you, you were also sitting those GCSE's and it was a really tough year for you. Lewis and Nico now spoke to you separately, their sides of the garage never crossing over like they used to.

So you not only had the stress of your GCSE's, the stress of your two role models no longer talking and with that your own childhood best friend cutting you off because of how much you travelled and your commitments not being strong enough. And to top it of Nico was confirmed to be leaving the sport which would mean you wouldn't see him as often.

However, despite everything that went on you came out with some really good grades, thanks to Lewis and his help when it come to studying.

You actually met George the year after when he became a junior driver for Mercedes. You had just turned 17 and he was 20 and part way working his way up through the feeder series into Formula One.

You actually had a crush on George all the way back then, Lewis convinced you it was just a silly little school girl crush you'd soon get over and motorsport men were a walking red flag. Which you found out was true with your first heartbreak when you dated an F2 driver that was the same age as you. You dad of course was hesitant at first, and he was right to be. He cheated on you with one of the insta models 7 months into your relationship.

Lewis did a lot for you and you guys were close, so you almost felt like you couldn't say no even though you didn't want to anyway.

You got the first flight you could out to his LA mansion.

"Hello" he greeted you as you'd found him in the airport with his security. There was of course Paps so it was only a short amount of time before people knew you were here with Lewis.

He drove the pair of you back to his LA home, you guys spent the rest of the week surfing, go-karting and walking Roscoe. Everyone knew you were here by now so you posted a photo dump on the Wednesday to Instagram, photos of everything you guys had been up to.

Everyone in the comments was so excited that big brother Lewis was back.

"So, I think now that we've had some time to chill out we should talk about the serious matters on the table" Lewis says as he spoons some of the vegan dish his private chef had made you guys.

"Mmmm?" you hum as you gobble more of the delightful food down.

"I miss you in the Mercedes Garage and the red bull top doesn't suit you" he says making your head whip to the side.

"Excuse me!" you nearly choke on your food.

"Look, I know what Toto and George did was foul... and others have made it into this whole dramatic show, but I miss teasing you in the garage and I miss you telling the engineers something was wrong and trying not to laugh! I miss you! Everyone does, George, Toto, Suz, all the hospitality and mechanics and the engineers!" he offers looking at you.

"I'm not coming back to Mercedes Lew, I've found my place in Red Bull, they've even let me help on the 2024 car! My dad turned me down straight away when i asked, they trust me there and they like my ideas! I'll talk to both of them okay, I promise but Red Bull stuck their neck out for me hiring me... so I owe them!" you admit, knowing Red Bull helped you a lot, as much as you'd helped them.

"I know I know, but just talk to them soon. They are both suffering and they regret what they did!"

You drove in Lewis car all the way to Nevada. It was only a 4 hour drive where you guys did make stops along the way. You guy's parted ways as you got there. He needed to be present for media duties and you had to be with Red Bull making sure the car was up to standard.

You checked in with everyone you hadn't seen for the two week gap, checking in with the mechanics making sure they though the car was looking okay after the race.

And before you knew it Max was coming out of FP1 in 4th, FP2 in 6th and FP3 in 4th. It was a new track and everyone was getting used to the it and how the car performed on it. In Practices it was more for the driver to get the feel for the car.

Max qualified P3, but because Carlos had to take a 10 place grid penalty he was moved up to P2. He was on the front line next to Charles Leclerc and if he got a good start he could finish again P1.

Vegas was a stressful race for everyone. Charles and his Ferrari was made for the layout of this street circuit it seemed. Lando had a really bad crash which had everyone worried.

Ferrari, once again fucked up their strategy as you called Max to box when the safety car was released. Charles had only pitted a few laps prior. Now Max and Sergio were on the fresher tires.

"Warm those tires up Max then when DRS is available go for that overtake on Turn 3 for P1" you advise as he rolls out of the pits behind the safety car that Charles was already following.

Eventually you had both Red Bulls in the front ready for a 1-2 podium. But on the final lap Charles went for the overtake on Sergio and broke the Red Bulls up, there was no way he'd catch up with Max but you told him to hold his position.

Again Max Verstappen had one his 18th race of the season and you'd been his race engineer for a whole new track. He'd pulled you into a massive hug, along with Christian who was impressed with how quickly you were adapting to the new role.

"Amazing driver guys! Straight to Abu Dhabi now!" Christian grins, nothing could now ruin his mood. Max had been confirmed Champion of the World a few races back but Red Bull still wanted to prove they were winners.

And that you did, you went to Abu Dhabi and one again by a landslide. You all celebrated the end of the season and Max asked you to come up on the podium with him again. However, George had come P3. so you were up on the Podium with him and Charles too.

The champagne was brought out and all the guys showered each other before coming over to you. They soaked you with the rest of the champagne the dark team gear sticking to your skin.

"Omg" you squeal as someone pulls back your top and dumps some of their champagne down your back. You swivel round to see George. Everything is so loud around you right now. Charles and Max are off celebrating the podium together a little further away from the pair of you now.

"George" you say looking up at him and he sheepishly takes a step back.

"George, no! I'm sorry I didn't speak to you sooner" you say looking at him, only for his head to cock to the side where he couldn't here you.

"What?" he shouts coming closer.

You lean in right up to his ear so that he can actually here you.

"I'm sorry I ignored you for so long. I was being childish. Lewis... Lewis talked some sense into me." you say.

"You-" he starts confused. He was the one that owed you an apology not the other way around.

"Y/N listen to me. Meet me tonight and we will talk about everything I promise!" he shouts making you able to hear him over the crowd.

"Okay!" you nod, before turning around and the Red Bull team all cheer as you hold up the trophy.

"Oh and George, Congrats of P3!" you grin, before joining Max and Charles.

Maybe it was time for you to talk it out. Maybe even to reach out to your dad! Lewis was as always right!

Taglist:

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#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #george russel imagine #george russel x reader #george russell x reader #george russell #george russell imagine #gr63 #gr63 x reader #gr63 imagine #lewis hamilton imagine #toto wolff #max verstappen imagine

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burrowbaddie · 2 months

Text

Trust

Joe Burrow x Female Reader

Series Summary: You, one of the top actresses in the world find yourself falling for the unbelievably attractive quarterback, Joe Burrow. But as Joe falls faster he finds that everything isn’t so golden about the world’s golden girl.

Acts: 5/?

Status: Ongoing

Please read the warning careful for this chapter. Proceed with caution; some content could be triggering!

Warnings: female!reader, smut, swearing, oral (m&f receiving), vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, taking plan b, mentions of toxic past relationship, age gap between ex and reader, mentions of past abusive relationship,

Act 5 Summary: You and Joe come to an abrupt end. With no more fight left in you, you decide to march to your own beat.

Word Count: 6.4k

Series Masterlist

You sit nervously, biting your lip, waiting for the doorbell to ring. Joe is away at training; you encouraged him to go and give you some space to collect your thoughts, but right now, you could use his strength. You stand up and start pacing, unsure how to bring it up. You told your father to come over for the weekend to catch up and only explained briefly in the conversation. You figured it would be easier to tell your father first, plus you wanted to speak to him about your mother. Yeah, you decided to lay it all all in one go. The sound of your doorbell snaps you back. It's now or never. This is your first step towards freedom from Jackson. You make your way to the door and swing it open, greeted by your giant of a father. He scoops you up and squeezes you.

"You never invite me over. Am I going to be a grandfather?" He jokes, putting you down. Your heart cracks a bit more at the thought of telling him you can't have children.

"Where's Joe? Am I going to have a little footballer grandson who plays for the Bills? Me and your brother already-Sweetie, hey hey, why are you crying?" Your father calms himself, taking your hand in his. You try to wipe your tears, but they flow endlessly. Your father follows you to the living room, where you try to gather your thoughts, but the tears won't stop. You're hyperventilating, and your father is quick to be by your side, holding you.

"Did Joe do something to you? Where is he?" Your father is quick to his feet, and you grab his hand.

"Joe is fine. It's nothing with him. It's-" You touch your throat, unable to say his name. Your father sits down and gently holds your hand.

"Talk to me, sweetheart. What's going on?"

"Mom lives out here. I ran into her, " you whisper, deciding to take the lesser blow for now. Your father sighs and rubs his head.

"I know."

Your head shoots up at your father's confession.

"What do you mean?"

"Your mother contacted me a few months ago. I knew she lived here but didn't know you ran into her."

"Did she ask about me?"

"She did. She said she was so proud of you. She has been watching you from the start of your career."

"She has two other daughters now. She's a terrible person, and I don't want her in my life." You stand up, wipe your face, and begin pacing. Your father sits with his hands clasped together, staring at the floor.

"Dad, why aren't you saying anything? Don't tell me you forgave her! " you shout.

"We have talked over things, and we are moving forward."

"What does that even mean? You forgive her. Now, you guys will hold hands and run off together?"

Your dad's silence is loud. You're shocked at this revelation and unable to process a thing.

"You're together again?"

"We're talking. She's divorcing her husband and-"

"She abandoned you! She left us like we were nothing!" You shout, throwing your hands up.

"She was my first love. If you had a chance to be with your first love again, wouldn't you?" Your father asks calmly. You chuckle darkly, throwing your head back.

"My first love has ruined my life for the last ten years." You storm out of the room just as Joe enters the living room. He sets his bag down and chases after you.

"Honey-"

"How can he talk to my mother right now? What she did to us is unforgivable!" You scream and cry. Joe embraces you, trying to calm you down. There's a knock at the door, and you pull away from Joe, allowing your father to enter.

"I have nothing to say to you right now. Joe will show you to the guest room. Thank you." You walk away, slamming the bathroom door behind you. Your father follows Joe out of the room and back downstairs.

"I thought I knew my daughter pretty well. Who is her ex?" Your father asks Joe. Joe lifts your father's bags and sighs. It isn't his place to tell your father everything about Jackson.

"It's up to her to tell you, sir," Joe replies respectfully. Your dad nods his head.

"Was it someone famous? Can you at least tell me that?"

Joe looks over to the steps where you're standing now. You're upset about your mother, but you have to tell your dad.

"Jackson. After Karen moved me to LA for my career, I started seeing Jackson shortly after." You whisper. Your father turns around to face you. You do your best to read his face, but he reveals many different facial expressions in those few seconds.

"I'm sorry, daddy." You whisper. Your father is in front of you, holding you in his arms as you break down.

"What are you sorry about? It's me, I'm the fool." Your dad walks you to the sofa, where you sit down and prepare yourself to tell your father everything. Joe gives the two of you space and decides to go take a shower.

"I started dating him after I turned 18. He was everything to me. It didn't take long for him to show his true colors. He started being controlling, and I blamed it on being my mentor and the stress with the business. I found out that after my 19th birthday, I was pregnant, but my career had just started, so I had an abortion. I thought it was only an abortion until a few days ago; I found out Jackson paid my doctor to tie my tubes." You can't bring yourself to look at your father. Your father tried his best to process all the information silently.

"I-I'm stunned." Your dad finally replies.

"I thought I could be free of him. I did my best to hold on to hope for these last few years because of the stupid contracts, but Jackson won't stop. He won't leave me alone. I spent seven years locked in fear of Jackson; through all the mental, emotional, and physical abuse, I stayed because I thought that was my life, but finally, I'm stronger now. I'm telling you this now because I'm going public about Jackson's abuse, and I'm taking him to court. I thought it would be best to say it to you first rather than hear it on the news."

"I wish you would have told me sooner. I didn't know any of this was happening to you. I should've put two and two together. I should have been smarter. I should have known when you stopped coming to visit. He took you away from us. No, I practically gift-wrapped you to him. It's my fault for being so fucking naive. I trusted this guy and-"

"Daddy, it's not your fault. I made my decisions. I-"

"He put his fucking hands on you! I sent you to LA, and I knew the culture of Hollywood. I read stories about things like this, but I never….I never thought for once you could fall victim. It's my fault. You suffered all this time, and it's my fault. I wondered why Jackson was contacting me these last few months. I'm a fool. He knew…Oh god."

"Daddy, it wasn't-"

"The business was failing. I was in debt and didn't want to ask you for money. Jackson offered, and I accepted it. He owns half the business now."

Your breath is caught in your throat. You're unable to move from your sitting position as your father starts rambling and pacing. This is why you never went public. This right here. Jackson threatened your family over and over and over again. He promised he would ruin their lives if you left him, and now it's started. Jackson got to your father before you could. It's all your fault. You stopped being close to your family. You lost all contact with them all those years. You just started to build things up again, but Jackson was one step ahead of you as always.

"Dad…I-"

"I'm so sorry. What kind of fucking father lets his 17-year-old daughter move to Hollywood alone and for the last ten years be-"

"Dad! I'll handle it so-"

"No. I'll handle it." Your father cuts you off.

"Mom is working for Jackson. Her firm is representing him." You finally say. Your father freezes up. This time, you make eye contact with him.

"She-She wouldn't do that if you tell her he-"

"They met me together. She knows what is happening, and she chose her side."

"She only knows his side because he is her client. Honey, if we tell her she will-"

"What? Protect me? She hasn't done that since the day I was born."

Your father shakes his head at all this news. You don't even know where to start. Jackson owns part of your father's business. Your father built his construction business from the bottom up, and now, with Jackson involved, this will only further go to Hell for you.

"I'm sorry. This is my fault for being gullible. I can't imagine what you've been through, sweetheart, but I promise I will make it right."

"You can't dad. I have to do this alone. If you get involved, Jackson will ruin your business and-"

"The business doesn't matter. You are my daughter. I failed at protecting you before, and I won't fail again." Your father pulls you into a hug as Joe appears. You break apart and let your father settle in his room while you and Joe talk in the kitchen. You tell Joe the news your father shared with you about the company.

"I'll buy Jackson's half. Let's ask Janet and Alex to put that in the agreement." You state, holding onto Joe. Joe calls Janet, Alex, and Eliza over.

"Before we can do anything, I want to talk to Jackson. Alone."

"I don't think that is a good idea." Eliza steps in, looking at Joe for backup. Joe takes your hand.

"We have to let her make her own choices. I'm going to support her no matter what. Let her do it." Joe replies. You give him a soft smile. After a few more talk-throughs, you end the night by checking on your father. He states that he wants you to speak to your mother so that she can hear your side. You tell him that isn't an option yet. You return to your bedroom and cuddle next to your boyfriend. You both know the road ahead will be challenging, but as long as you have Joe, you know you can do it.

You sit across Jackson and take a deep breath.

"I want to buy back your half of my father's company, " you say flat out. Jackson throws his head back, laughing.

"And why would I do that?"

"Because I'm pressing charges against you, Jackson. Everything that you have done to me will be brought to light. I am giving you the chance to fix things."

"You're not going to win. Get that through your head. Come back to me, and all of this can stop. It's your word against mine. I need you to think this through. You have no proof." Jackson chuckles.

"I-"

"I will ruin your brother's life. Aaron? Is it? Your youngest brother, right? Just getting his name out in the entertainment world, right? I will have him fucking blacklisted." Jackson threatens.

"Why are you doing this to me, Jackson? What did I do to you?"

"Come back to me, and this can be over. Your father…the rest of your family. I will leave them alone. Joe included."

You bite your lip and look around the room. A few feet away, Karen is urging you to agree to the terms.

"I want to be happy." You whisper, holding back tears. Jackson reaches over and touches your hand.

"I can make you happy like I did before. I'm different. I've changed. Let me show you." Jackson rubs the back of your hand. You shake your head.

"Joe…I love him." You finally let the words come out of your mouth. You love Joe, and it's taken you forever to say the words in fear of what your future would look like with him. But you know now that your future with Joe is as bright as the stars. Jackson starts laughing.

"No. You have no idea what you're saying right now. I have given you everything I have. I have loved you from the moment we met. You promised your life to me. Marriage kids…All of that is our future."

"I can't have kids anymore! You made sure of that! I will never come back to you. My family is stronger than you think. I've told them what you've done to me and what to expect moving forward. I gave you this meeting for a chance to change your ways, but you refused. My lawyers will be in touch." You grab your purse and exit the room. Karen chases after you and grabs your wrist.

"Think about what you're doing. Jackson is giving you the chance to make things right. Go back to him and protect your family. He can and will make everyone's life worse." Karen states, shaking your shoulders. You remove her grip and stare at her.

"You're such a sad woman. You continue to live in his spotlight, not seeing the good you could do by standing by my side. Jackson only cares for himself. The quicker you learn, the faster you will live a much better life, Karen. Testify against him. Win and be out from under his shadow. I'm doing this as a courtesy. You were supposed to protect me, and you didn't. You continue to let that man get away with everything. You're just as guilty as him in my eyes…But I'm giving you the chance to make up for your mistakes." You don't break eye contact and do your best to read over Karen's facial expression. You give her shoulder a few taps and walk away. Karen turns and walks back into the room to find Jackson pacing. You go to the lobby, where you find your boyfriend in disguise, just people-watching. You walk over and bend down, scaring him.

"I said I could do this alone." You whisper, pulling down his sunglasses. Joe shrugs.

"Just in case he tried anything. I wanted you to know you're not alone."

You kiss his lips and pull him up. The both of you exit the hotel. The ride back home sends your mind racing. You're sure your father has told your brothers, but you're not ready to face them yet, so you've been ignoring their calls. At home, Eliza, Janet, and Alex wait for the update. You tell them what everyone already knows. Jackson won't let you repurchase your dad's company; he refuses to settle. You give Janet and Alex the okay to file charges in California. With things in motion, you take the time to go to LA and finish some business for a week.

You giggle as you read over the text from Joe. Everyone in the room can see how much you glow at the mention of the football player. You can't wipe the smile off your face when you get called Joe Burrow's girlfriend. You're finally free to enjoy Joe in front of the world. It was a crazy mix of reactions, but for the most part, everyone is obsessed with the both of you.

"Yeah, she is finished up for the magazine spread. We will do a quick Q&A and then wrap it up." Eliza shouts on set. You text Joe a goodbye followed by a kissy face emoji. You miss him, but with his training for the upcoming season, you had to fly out and get some photoshoots done for your upcoming movie. You sit on the white sofa as your makeup artist comes and touches you up.

"So we have a special person here to help us out with this interview." The photographer announces. Your body freezes up, and you look at Eliza with horror written on your face. Jackson. It has to be Jackson. But as your special guest appears, your horror-struck eyes become filled with admiration. Joe smiles and takes a seat on the couch. Your mouth is wide open as you stare at him in complete shock. You launch yourself onto his lap as he laughs.

"Suprise, baby," Joe whispers in your ear. You lean back, and he kisses your lips.

"What's this?" You ask as Eliza hands you cards. You read over the cards.

"GQ couples quiz," Joe replies, fixing his shirt and licking your chocolate Fenty lipgloss off his lips. You cannot wipe the smile off your face as you read over the cards.

"You guys ready?" Eliza asks. You nod eagerly and sit back, wiggling in your seat. You start by introducing yourself and Joe.

"What's my favorite color?" You ask. Joe scratches his head, laughing.

"That's easy, yellow. Not too bright, like a nice mellow yellow. Not the drink." Joe laughs, replying. You nod and ding him for the point.

"What food do I love, and what food do I hate?" You ask next. Joe laughs and leans back. He takes a moment to think, and you give him a look.

"She loves lasagna, and she hates soups. Any soup she complains, but she also hates onion, but she will tear French Onion soup up, so it's like weird." Joe sits up, staring at you. You hide behind your cards, giggling.

"French onion is just too good! Okay, what's my favorite fast food, and what is my go to order?"

"You don't even eat out like that, umm, Chick-fil-A, and she always gets the Cool Wrap with extra ranch packet, a lemonade, and fries." He replies. You clap for him and tell them to give him extra points.

"He's so attentive like I barely eat out. I think I had that when we first started dating. Speaking of, how did you ask me out?"

"This is embarrassing. When we first started talking, we would send each other songs. So, I sent her Girlfriend by Charlie Puth. She messaged me and asked, What does this mean? And I replied precisely what the song says."

"What did you respond?" A guy asks off camera. You giggle behind the cards.

"Yes. I didn't send a song back because I was so shy and too busy giggling." You reply, flipping to the next card.

"What did you do for the first date?" The guy asks. You look at Joe, letting him take the lead.

"We did ABC dates for the first 26 dates; we did something corresponding to the alphabet. So, date one was an aquarium date." Joe smiles at you, shooting you a wink.

"Who said I love you first?" You ask, reading the next card. Joe leans back, laughing.

"I did. I knew I was in love with her from the first date. Without reading the little cards next to each animal, she would start this long rant about information on them. I was fascinated and had to stand back and stare at her. Although when I first said I love you, it threw her off, and she ghosted me for weeks."

"Joseph!" You giggle playfully, shoving him. Joe whispers that he loves you, and your heart flutters. You blow him a kiss and read the next card.

"How did we meet?"

"At her cousin's wedding. I knew the groom, and they introduced us, so I owe Matty a big thank you.

"Were you a fan of hers before meeting her?" The director asks. Joe nods his head.

"I was. Who isn't a fan? After we started hanging out, I did a deep dive for sure, but haha, I was always a fan. My family members are huge fans of her, so it worked out." Joe replies, licking his lips. You hide behind your cards.

"What's my favorite movie."

"Titanic."

"Ding! What's a pet peeve you have about me."

"None. I'm too in love with you. Next question."

"There has to be one. I won't get upset." You reply, waiting for an answer.

"Hmmm. She falls asleep with the TV on. I like silence. But I would do anything to keep her happy, so I don't care." Joe states, grinning.

"What's the first thing I made you to eat?"

"Man…I think it was spaghetti or something."

"Ding. That's correct." You give your boyfriend a few claps.

"What was my favorite subject in school?"

"I think English? No history. She's a history buff!" Joe replies you give him another ding for his correction.

"What's my phone number?"

"I can't say that. Are they going to beep it out?" Joe asks. The producers give him a thumbs up, and Joe gives out your phone number.

"She doesn't know my number."

"To be fair, I don't remember anyone's number." You laugh and go to the next card.

"What is your favorite thing about me?" This time, when you ask, you stare straight into those blue orbs across from you. Joe leans forward and takes your hand.

"I love everything about you. I love that our humor is the same. I love how you protect those you love. I love the way your mind works. I love your strength. I never thought I would be able to fall more in love with you, but every day, you show me that's possible." Joe rubs the back of your hand, and you look away, holding back tears.

"Give him all the points, " you jokingly state, wiping your eyes. You toss the cards and throw yourself at your boyfriend, causing the set to laugh. After you guys wrap up on set, Joe follows you back to the hotel. You guys find yourselves in bed kissing each other endlessly. Your mouth detaches from Joe's, only to breathe in and return to his lips. Joe moans into the kiss, causing you to squeeze your thighs together involuntarily.

"Take this off," Joe whispers, pulling at your t-shirt. You sit up and toss it to the floor. Joe pulls you back on top of his lap and takes your nipple into his mouth. You look down at him with glossy eyes. Joe grips your hips tightly. You hiss as he pulls back slowly on your nipple between his teeth. Joe sucks on it gently, and you rake your fingers through his hair. While Joe is busy sucking on your nipple, you move your hand down to the waistband of his briefs, releasing his cock. Joe releases your nipple and stares up at you as you start pumping him in your hand. Joe lifts you and sheaths himself entirely in you. You both sigh while you clench around his shaft.

"Fuck baby, don't do that. I'm going to cum." Joe whispers, pulling you back down for a messy kiss.

"Missed this so so much," You pull away from the kiss and lean back as Joe starts bouncing you up and down on his cock. You lean forward so that your forehead touches his.

"Yeah, you miss this. Such a good girl." Joe groans, feeling you clench around him again. He slaps your thigh, and you giggle. You bend down and capture his lips. Joe's kisses are lazy because he is too focused on bouncing you up and down his cock chasing his release. It's only been a week of separation, but your dear boyfriend desperately wanted you. Joe groans when you pull his head back by his hair. You start leaving open mouth kisses on his neck.

"I'm cumming." Joe groans as you suck on his neck. You giggle and pull back to see your handy work. Joe sighs, holding you down as you continue to milk everything he gives you. You pick yourself up and plop down on the bed beside him. Joe rolls over and stares at you. Before you got here, Joe had spent at least 15 minutes devouring you, so it was only fair he got his ending, too. You can feel his semen dripping down your legs, which makes you giggle at the sensation.

"What?" Joe asks.

"The strike started, so I won't be promoting anything. I can give all my time to you." You whisper. Joe closes his eyes.

"Do you trust me, Joseph?"

"With my whole heart."

You close your eyes and join your boyfriend in a deep sleep. The next day, you and Joe find yourselves eating out. A few fans ask for photos and autographs which you both have no problem doing. When you return to your hotel, you and Joe take a hot shower, not missing a moment to touch each other. After the shower, you take a much-needed nap. You and Joe fly back home and bury yourself in the case you are building against Jackson. You have not spoken to your father since he shared about your mother. Your brothers have tried to reach out to you, but you're not ready for that talk.

"Can you go into more detail about the Oscar night?" Janet asks, bringing you back to the present. You ignore your oldest brother's text and place your phone on the table.

"Like what?"

"Did he assault you?… Physically?" She clarifies. You take a deep breath and nod your head.

"How long do we need to do this? I have surgery today." You state changing the subject. Janet looks at Alex.

"We can end here. Are you nervous about the surgery?"

"Yes, I want it to work out. I want to be a mother, " you reply.

Alex drives you to the hospital, where Joe meets you. He kisses your lips and tells you how brave you are then you are and that he will be waiting for you when you wake up. And just like he promised, Joe was at your side when you woke up and through recovery. Before you knew it, the season started. As always, you went to the games with his family and cheered him on. You ran into Jackson once and were surprised by the outcome.

"You win. Have your team contact mine. I'll follow whatever rules you set." Jackson stated. You stared at him in disbelief.

"First, let me buy back my father's company."

"You wanted a legit deal, have your team contact mine."

"Fine." You say, turning to walk away, but JAckson's next word surprises you.

"I'm sorry."

You can't find it in yourself to turn back and face him, but hearing those exact words you heard so many times from him seems haunting. You get the courage to turn around and face him with tears in your eyes; you take a deep breath.

"This could have all been avoided. What you have done to me, I'll never be able to forgive you, so keep your apology. Your words mean absolutely nothing to me." You state sternly. Jackson chuckles and wipes his face.

"For what it's worth, I loved you. I truly loved you."

"Well, you had a fucked up way of showing it."

"Get away from her." You hear Joe's mother shout. She quickly steps in between you. Jackson nods his head and walks away. She turns around and pulls you into a hug. You and Joe had sat down with his parents and broke the news a few weeks ago. Her actions shocked you but warmed your heart.

"Are you okay? Did he say anything to you-"

"Mrs.Burrow, I'm-"

"Mom. I told you to call me mom…if that's okay." She whispers, cupping your face to wipe the tears. You smile and nod.

"Mom, I'm okay." You sniffle, and she hugs you again. You guys make your way to the game. It has been a stressful few weeks for Joe, from your surgery to losing a few games. Joe always took it so hard and blamed himself. But you were there to comfort him always. After the team won, you guys went out to celebrate. Joe's hand never left yours through the night. You sipped your drink and leaned over.

"It's been four weeks, and I got the okay from my doctor. So-"

"Check this out." Andrei holds up his phone to Joe. Joe reads the headline, and you watch his face twist. You lean over to read it yourself, your hand moving faster than you can process as you rip the phone from Joe's hand.

"Jackson and longtime girlfriend are expecting their first child…. longtime girlfriend?"

Andrei looks at Joe, confused. You hand the phone back and storm out of the party. This is why he was so uncaring. You call Janet, and she already knows. It's a complete wrench thrown in your plan.

"We should still meet him and go over the contract. He doesn't want it to get out so-"

You hang up and lean over, feeling sick. Joe comes to comfort you. You don't know if it's the news or the drinks, but you're dizzy. Joe holds your waist and steadies you on your feet. You guys leave the celebration as paparazzi snap away, screaming questions at you. You get into the vehicle and break down. Joe pulls you into his arms. In times like this, he feels so hopeless; the only thing he can give you is comfort. You cry well into the morning, and when you wake up, you suffer from puffy eyes and sore throat.

"We can reschedule this meeting if you're not up to this today," Joe states. You ignore him and continue fixing your makeup.

"Honey-"

"Just stop! I don't need to be babied. You're suffocating me!" You shout, slamming the door in his face. You didn't mean to lash out, but you're stressed. Jackson is always steps ahead of you. After you finish getting ready, you look for Joe to apologize. You find him on the phone in the kitchen. LA is not a good place for you; you want to run back to Ohio with Joe as soon as possible. Joe hangs up the phone and turns to you with a half smile.

"I'm sorry." You whisper. Joe shrugs.

"We should get going. Janet just called and said Jackson is there already…with your mother."

The bad news keeps rolling in. You guys meet at Jackson's local law firm. Janet and Alex are already there. You look over at Jackson's "girlfriend" and roll your eyes. You know her. It's someone you trained with in the past, but she never broke out as a star. You tell the ladies you will meet them inside the conference room.

"How long have you been with Jackson?" You ask her. She rubs her belly.

"Going on eight years."

You laugh and throw your head back. Courtney stares at you, not amused.

"How much is he paying you to say that? You know he was with me-"

"You're delusional. You and Jackson had a strictly professional relationship. He told me how obsessed you were."

"Court, we trained together. You saw me and Jackson together all the time. He-"

"He said you guys messed around once, and you just wouldn't back off."

"You can't honestly think he is going to treat you better? He is not sane. He will crush you until there is nothing left."

"Look, he helped your career. Be fucking grateful. I want that, too. Unlike you, I won't let him break me because we both need something from each other." Courtney says with a smile. She bumps into you and walks into the room. Jackson makes his way over.

"Courtney. Longtime girlfriend? What is wrong with you?"

"I'm sorry. What we had was fun, but you can't honestly think you were the only one. Right?" Jackson chuckles and brushes the hair from your face. He kisses your forehead.

"You made me an enemy, and I told you it wouldn't be pretty. Listen to me next time." He says before backing off and walking away. You get yourself composed before walking into the room and spotting your mother. Janet and Alex start going over your demands. Jackson agrees with them all, but you have zoned out.

"No deal." You interrupt. Everyone stops talking and looks at you.

"What?"

"You can't buy my silence. You took my voice a long time ago, but it's back. I won't let you get away with anything you did. I'll see you in court." You stand up and walk out as Jackson calls after you. Janet and Alex will follow you out. Joe waited in the care for you. You shock him when you climb into the car.

"What happened?-"

"Please just drive." You say. Joe nods and pulls out. Once you guys reach the parking garage, climb onto his lap and kiss him. Joe tries to talk between kisses but can't catch a break. He finally lightly grabs your hair and pulls you back.

"Baby? Talk to me."

"You're right. I need to speak up so other women know what kind of person he is…I'm taking him to court." You lean back and look into his blue eyes. Joe nods his head.

"I'm proud of you."

And when Janet and Alex reach your hotel, you have everything drawn up and the story released. Your comment section on IG becomes too much that you deactivate them. Joe suffers an injury, and life seems to be slapping you both down. The world was calling you a liar, and though they didn't say it to your face, some co-stars sided with Jackson. Jackson was thriving, just as you expected, until some lip reader on TikTok posted just the evidence needed. Eliza handed you her phone.

"Do you remember that day?" She asks

"Here he is telling her, fix your face before I fix it for you. And then you see her smile." The girl states, pointing out Jackson's words. Of course, you remember that night. It was Emmy night, and Jackson had screamed at you the whole way over about the dress you wore being too revealing even though he controlled every aspect of you. He chose that dress. Another tiktoker who is known for body language analyzes the same clip.

"Look how tight he grabs her wrist when she tries to walk away. Jackson Taylor is an abusive man. Hashtag, we believe you." The guy states. You continue to look through the hashtag and see that you have gained support. People believe you.

"I have to see this through. I have to be open about everything." You whisper. Your eyes drift to Joe, who is on the phone in the kitchen. Eliza follows your gaze. Once Joe is off the phone, he finds you alone in the living room, staring at the blank TV.

"Hey."

You pat the seat next to you.

"What's up?" He asks, taking a seat.

"This is going to be a long process for me. I need the space to see this through."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm moving back to LA."

"I can come to stay with you and-"

"You need to focus on healing…and in a way, so do I."

"I don't get what you're saying?" Joe nervously chuckles.

"Joe, don't make this harder than it needs to be. I can't give you all of me because he still has it. It's not fair to you or me. I have to fight him and this alone. I need my focus to be on this."

Joe stands up abruptly, scaring you for a second.

"I have been supportive. I have been the supportive boyfriend this whole time! And you're going to leave me just like that. When I'm at my weakest?"

"Stop yelling, please. I know this is frustrating, but-"

"But nothing!"

"Joe, this is hard for me too!"

"Then fight for us too? I love you. I have shown you time and time again. After everything we've been through, you can drop us like that?"

"Joe, I can't love you like you love me. I'm broken. I told you from the start. I told you. Nothing can fix me." You cry. Eliza comes from her bedroom, shocked about all the noise.

"I'm begging you to fight for us."

"I don't have any more fights left. I'm sorry, Joe." You whisper. Joe stands still, letting the silence fill the room. It's selfish. He knows it, but if he has to be selfish to keep you near him, he will become the most selfish person on the planet. But you're walking away from him. Joe can hear you saying words, but he can't understand them. It's as if you're speaking another language. Finally, Eliza brings him back.

"She's gone. She asked me to pack up her things and have it shipped to LA. I'm sorry, Joe. I'm shocked as you."

"I have to let her go. I can't be another guy that forces her to be in a relationship." Joe whispers and walks away. Eliza finds you in the car crying. She is confused by your actions, but she trusts that the both of you will find your way back to each other.

When you return to LA, rumors spread about you and Joe breaking up. People speculate that he broke up with you for obvious reasons. You keep yourself busy with Janet and Alex. Sometimes, you find yourself asking Janet about Joe. She tells you he's doing better, which is all you wanted. The hardest part about the case was getting people to speak up against Jackson. Everyone you emailed denied any involvement, even your old manager. Finally, one day, you get a visit from your old makeup artist.

"I'll testify." She states flat out. Janet smiles and nods.

"What can you bring to the table?" Alex asks.

"I was her makeup artist for two years. I can't tell you how many bruises I was paid to cover in those two years. I confronted Jackson, and he fired me. He threatened my family….when she found out she had paid me in secret for years. I've been running some of her clinics for women who are running from DV situations. I will tell them everything." Viola squeezes your hand, and you pull her into a hug.

"You helped so many women; they don't even know it. Thank you." Viola states. You are pulled into a hug and smile. Viola leaves you with Janet.

"Why didn't you tell me about the clinics? This-"

"Because they are all under Viola's name. I didn't want to have my name attached because of Jackson." You reply.

"This is huge. With her testimony, we really have something." Janet leans over the rail, looking out at the city.

"I miss him." You say, staring at the pool.

"He misses you too," Janet replies.

"He's never going to forgive me."

"He's upset, but I'm sure he would fall on his hands and knees if you walked into his door. I have never seen little Joseph so in love."

The thought makes you smile, but you know, deep down inside, Joe deserves someone with less baggage and Less damage. Because that's what you were… damaged goods. Some other guys ruined artwork. Joe could never put back the pieces.

"Your mom is here." Eliza interrupts. You take a deep breath. You were the one who called her to visit, so it's time to face the woman who gave birth to you.

it has been so longggg. I am sorry! But I am back. I am doing much better. I had a grippy sock vacation in the fall but I am feeling much better haha. This chapter sucks but we MOVE! I am getting back into the groove of writing again lol

#joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow x you #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow #joe burrow fic #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow bengals #joe burrow smut #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow imagines #joey b #nfl imagine

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targaryenmarvel · 3 months

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Fallin' All In You (Part 2) - Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: You’ve known Wanda Maximoff since you were children. She was the shy and exceptionally beautiful twin sister of your best friend, Pietro. For the most part, you two never interacted, but that changes when against your better judgment, you begin to develop feelings for the girl.

Warnings: Only cursing for now

Note: Hey, guys! Sorry for the long wait as I had no time to write the past few months. College and personal issues have kept me busy, but here's the next chapter. I hope you guys enjoy it!

Word count: 5,936

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

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Wednesday arrived quickly, and you had offered to drive the twins to school. However, their mother had insisted on taking them herself, at least for their first day. So, instead, you patiently waited at the double-door entrance until their mother's familiar car pulled up. Pietro left the car first, walking towards you.

"I think I'm really going to enjoy this school," he declared, eyes roaming the figure of one of your soccer teammates, and you lightly shoved him.

"Get your head out of the gutter, Piet," you reprimanded him. Yet, your actions betrayed you when your own gaze landed on his sister. A sight that had left you gawking like an idiot.

The Maximoff girl was wearing a red mid-thigh dress, a leather jacket on top, combat boots with black knee-high socks, her neck was adorned with necklaces and her fingers like before with multiple rings, and finally, her long brunette hair tied up in a ponytail. She looked utterly breathtaking. You were sure you weren't the only one awestruck.

"Only if you do the same," Pietro whispered to himself.

"What? D- Did you say something?" you asked, gulping and hoping he didn't notice you checking his sister out.

"I said we need to get our schedules. Come on."

He grabbed Wanda's wrist as she stopped next to him. You exchanged a quick smile with her before taking the two to the front office to get their schedules. You discovered you shared four classes with Pietro and three with Wanda; one was with both twins. Even though you were thrilled you would be able to have classes with Pietro, the fact that you'd also see Wanda intensified your euphoria.

One of your classes with Pietro was your second-period physical education class. You couldn't talk much during the class, considering the teacher split the girls and boys for basketball. However, you compensated in your following class, which was history. You sat together in the back of the room, goofing off. You were lucky your history teacher was chill.

Your fourth-period class was art, which you had with Wanda. The brunette girl seemed so lost when she walked into the room, not knowing where to sit since she had no friends in the class. You knew Wanda had anxiety, so as soon as you caught her eye, you smiled and waved her over to the seat in front of you. You wished you could have spoken to her during class, but she seemed so concentrated on her work that you would have hated interrupting her.

After that class, the three of you went to lunch together, sitting outside at one of the tables. You were talking to Pietro when you were abruptly interrupted by two hands landing on your shoulders before blazing red hair came into view and lips pressed against your cheek. An immediate grin covered your lips as the redhead sat next to you.

Pietro raised an eyebrow at you quizzically while Wanda stared at the redhead. Of course, you know what it looked like, but you were being entirely truthful when you said Natasha was your friend. I mean, you two did kiss freshman year when you were exploring your sexuality, but it was only that one time. Besides, Natasha was dating Steve, another one of your friends.

"Guys, this is Natasha Romanoff. Natasha, these are Pietro and Wanda Maximoff." You gestured as you spoke.

"Oh, so you're the famous Maximoffs. Y/N has told me so much about you." She put her elbow on the table and rested her chin on her palm.

"Good things, I hope." Pietro winked at her with a smirk, and you rolled your eyes. God, he was such a flirt.

"Don't even try, Piet. She has a boyfriend," you interjected before he could embarrass himself further.

"Maybe you should have mentioned that before, don't you think, Y/N," he whined, covering his face with his hands, causing you to giggle.

Natasha looked at you with a smug smile. "You were talking about me?" she elbowed you gently on your side, "I feel so special."

You chuckled at her playfulness. "Piet asked if we were dating."

"Sadly, no. I tried, but Y/N is the one that got away." She sighed overdramatically, causing you and Pietro to laugh.

You bumped her shoulder, still laughing, "Shut up before Steve hears you."

Your laughter died down when you looked over to Wanda, who mindlessly moved her food around, looking like she'd rather be elsewhere. You really hated that Wanda wasn't enjoying herself as much as you were, and you wished there was something you could do or say to make her feel better but came up blank. Natasha also noticed Wanda's withdrawn mood and decided to help.

"So, Wanda," she waited for the said girl to look at her before she continued, "Y/N tells me you're an incredibly skilled artist."

Wanda glanced at you with doubt. You talked to Natasha about her even though you weren't friends? When Natasha mentioned you had told her much about them, she figured she was referring to only Pietro but was trying to be friendly.

She was quiet momentarily as she looked at your barely visible red face since you had lowered your head. Then she realized Natasha was waiting for an answer. "I wouldn't say I'm incredibly skilled. More like okay," she downplayed, embarrassed by the attention.

Pietro scoffs, "Lies, sistra. Don't downplay yourself like that. You're a wonderful artist. Not just anyone is chosen to make the school mural." Wanda blushed at his praise but smiled nonetheless, grateful for his supportiveness.

Natasha coaxed Wanda to talk for the rest of lunch by asking her questions. Eventually, Wanda answered with all the confidence in the world and joked around with Natasha. She became even more comfortable when some of her friends joined you at lunch.

Afterward, you, Natasha, and Wanda walked to your science class together. Unfortunately, since Natasha was your table partner, Wanda wasn't able to sit next to you. Though you knew she'd be okay when you noticed Wanda's best friend, Monica Rambeau.

You saw Pietro once again in your sixth-period math class. Your math teacher, Mr. Grayson, soon discovered how troubling making you and Pietro were together after interrupting the class with laughter multiple times. After many glares and a verbal warning, you both decided to quiet down, not wanting to get detention.

In your next period, you didn't have either of the twins. However, Natasha and Steve were there. Considering how sickening they could be together, you weren't sure if it was a good thing.

It wasn't until the last class that you saw both twins again. Two of Wanda's friends, Shuri and Peter, were also in the class. Since you sat in the back row, there was enough room for all of you. Pietro was on your left, and Wanda was next to him, followed by her friends.

You became excited the moment you laid your eyes on the whiteboard. Your teacher was assigning a partner project; by the looks of it, one would have to be a group of three. Usually, you'd be annoyed, considering you weren't friends with anyone in your class. Of course, you liked Shuri and Peter, but they always paired together. But now that Pietro was there, you figured you'd work together. Of course, you wouldn't mind Wanda, but you were sure your recent nervousness would get the best of you.

Your suspicions were only confirmed when you peeked at the girl from under your eyelashes. She spoke to her friends, showing her perfect side profile and composed posture. You couldn't help your wandering eyes as they lowered, settling on a patch of exposed skin from her thigh accentuated by her crossed legs.

You swallowed thickly, face on fire from shame and attraction at the tantalizing sight. An inescapable weight settled on your chest, threatening to constrict your lungs until you could no longer breathe.

There was only one way to prevent the eventual humiliation of hyperventilation: to look away. Yet, you struggled to do so. God, you were such a creep, you thought as you turned away with a sigh. But, you weren't allowed time to dwell in shame as class began.

"Hello, class. First off, I would like to welcome our two new students, Pietro and Wanda Maximoff." She motioned to the two before continuing, "Okay, class, as you can see on the board, you are being paired for an out-of-class project. Usually, we read a book as a class and individually write weekly chapter summaries, but I decided to change it up a little to make it more fun and collaborative. In this assignment, there will be no weekly summaries. Instead, it will be an analysis paper and a short presentation. Unfortunately, the last time you chose your partners, it didn't work out too well, so I have assigned them myself," she announced, eliciting collective grunts of protest from all of you. Well, there goes your plan of working with Pietro.

She brushed you off before calling out who would be working with whom. "Pietro Maximoff and Jimmy Woo." As much as you were praying to get him as your partner, you couldn't help but laugh at his luck. He was probably hoping to get one of the girls as his partner. Not that Jimmy was a bad partner; you thought he was funny.

She went on with other names, and you only perked up once she called your name, "Y/N, you will be working with… Wanda Maximoff."

Despite your newfound nervousness around Wanda, you internally perked at the thought of spending more time with the girl. Although you weren't sure if she felt the same, considering the adorable frown that adorned her face. Maybe she thought it would be awkward just the two without Pietro.

When she finished listing partners, she began going into depth over the expectations for the assignment. "I will allow you to choose a novel with a film adaptation, school-appropriate, of course. Before beginning, come to me for approval. I want you all to do different books and remember that it is first come, first serve." She gave everyone in the front row a rubric on the project to pass back. "For this assignment, I want you to write a literary analysis paper and compare the effectiveness of each medium in presenting the story. You will also need to create a five-minute presentation covering the points of your essay.

Your head throbbed at all the work you would have to do, considering she wasn't giving you time during class. Your only consolation rested on the five-week deadline given to complete the assignment besides the brief paragraph due tomorrow on the expectations of each medium. Besides, you were sure to finish with Wanda as your partner in no time.

From the look of it, the rest of the class was less eased by the deadline. Most wore expressions of annoyance.

Soon enough, the bell rang, indicating the end of school, and your teacher dismissed you all.

You and Pietro walked out of the classroom, Wanda lingering behind with Shuri and Peter.

"Is your mom picking you up? I can give you a quick ride home before practice starts," you offered, taking a quick look at Wanda as she departed from her friends and continued towards you both.

"No, that's okay. Mom is picking us up," he assured, wrapping his arm around Wanda's shoulders. "Are you coming over later?"

"Uh, yeah, after practice." You looked at Wanda, who scrolled through her phone. "Hey, Wanda," you called softly, gaining her attention. "If you don't have anything planned, we can start on the assignment," you suggested.

"Yeah, that's fine," she agreed, wanting to finish it as soon as possible. She figured that the faster you completed the work, the less time she spent with you making a fool out of herself.

"Okay, perfect. See you later, guys." You waved at them, leaving for the locker rooms to change before practice.

It wasn't until nearly six that you could go to the Maximoff household. You spent a while with Pietro in his room before deciding to get started with Wanda.

You stood outside her door; an overwhelming feeling of nervousness had taken over, causing your palms to sweat profusely and your heart rate to accelerate to an uncomfortable pace. You couldn't recall the last time you had been alone in a room with Wanda for more than three minutes. Not even in silence. It made you feel like an ashole for not trying harder to get along with your best friend's sister. Maybe it'd be easier to deal with your crush if you had. With a last sigh, you knocked on the door, prepared to face Wanda.

"Come in," her sweet voice called.

You slowly opened the door only to reveal a more casual Wanda lying on her stomach as she read a book. Gone was the alluring back dress replaced by a long-sleeved shirt and sweats.

"Hey," you called from the entrance, capturing her attention.

She quickly got up onto her knees and spoke. "Hey, Y/N. Come in."

As you tentatively entered Wanda's room, a feeling of apprehension crept over you. Uncertain of where to stand or sit, you lingered nervously near the entrance. It wasn't until Wanda kindly motioned towards her desk chair that you finally felt a slight sense of ease.

"Thanks." You sat and retrieved your notebook from your backpack. "Alright, do you have any book suggestions?" you asked, getting straight to the point. You thought it'd be less awkward once you started working on the assignment.

"A few, but I'm not sure they're to your liking."

"Shoot," you responded for her to continue.

Wanda stood from her bed and removed books from the shelf as she had named them. "Okay, I have The Great Gatsby, Pride & Prejudice, and oh, The Perks of Being Wallflower," she quipped excitedly, causing your heart to melt.

"No, Percy Jackson?" you asked, nodding to the poster on the wall.

She scoffed, "God, no! The movie is a total wreck. I understand you have to change certain things to fit the big screen, but seriously, did they have to remove the best parts, especially the fight with Ares," she ferociously shook her head in disdain forgetting your presence, and you pursed your lips to contain the laughter that wanted to breakthrough too entertained by her passionate ranting. "Anyways, I only liked the casting for Percy, Annabeth, and Grover, but they had to ruin it with their horrible script. Seriously…"

Despite your great effort, you couldn't contain the chuckle that escaped your lips. You were quick to disguise it as a cough, but the harm was done. Wanda stared at you wide-eyed with flaring red cheeks.

Though you thoroughly enjoyed how the color brightened her skin, you didn't want her to feel like you were laughing at her, so you nodded vigorously, "Honestly, how could they ruin it that bad? And oh, don't get me started on Sea of Monsters. Why the hell was Kronos there? I'm glad they didn't remake any other books. "

"You like Percy Jackson?" Wanda asked, a bit stunned at your knowledge of said book series.

You hum, "I discovered my love of Greek mythology through Percy Jackson. Just don't tell Pietro. He'll probably make fun of me."

"I would know," Wanda jokes, and you both chuckle. "So, we agree that Percy Jackson is a no-go since we'd never finish writing about everything wrong. Do you have any suggestions?"

"I don't spend much time reading since I rarely have the time, but I can say I enjoyed reading The Silence of the Lambs and Carrie," you said thoughtfully.

Wanda scrunched her nose cutely in distaste at your choices. "Sorry, I'm not good with horror."

"It's okay. We can do one of yours," you offered with a shrug, not caring.

"Really?" You nodded. "Pride & Prejudice?" Wanda asked, hopeful at your response.

"I'm sure it's amazing. You are recommending it, after all."

"Alright then, do you want to start on the individual paragraph? That way, we can turn them in tomorrow." You agreed, taking out your notebook and pen from your school bag.

Wanda was finishing her paragraphs when you interrupted the silence.

"I'm glad we're partners."

Wanda's hand stopped mid-sentence, and she slowly lifted her head to look at you. Her eyebrows scrunched in an adorable way when she asked, "Really?"

"Yeah, I usually end up doing all the work, but I'm sure you wouldn't do that." You wanted to tell her it wasn't the only reason, but you didn't want to make her uncomfortable. The slight smile on her lips gave you momentary courage, and you allowed yourself to tell her how you felt. "There's- uh, there's another reason." Wanda looked at you expectantly. "Even though Pietro and I have been friends since kindergarten, you and I have rarely talked or anything. I want to change that," you rushed, pausing to breathe. "I- If you're okay with it, I'd like to take this opportunity to know you better. I know it might be weird since I waited this long to do this, but honestly, I thought you hated me."

Wanda felt taken aback by your confession. "I don't hate you, Y/N," Wanda interrupted with a frown. "Why would you think that?"

"I don't know. You just kind of always left or ignored me," you rushed out, embarrassed.

"I wasn't ignoring you, Y/N," Wanda stated earnestly but with a hint of fondness. She indeed loved this flustered version of you. Your stuttering and deep blush made her heart skip. "You and Pietro were always so energetic and doing all these crazy things. I just thought I would be ruining your fun." It was her turn to look down in embarrassment.

"You wouldn't have," you quickly reassured. "Wanda, the amount of trouble Pietro and I could have avoided if you were there," you joked, causing her to laugh. "We can't do anything about the past, only what's ahead of us, so what do you say, Wanda? Friends?"

"Friends," Wanda agreed, sending you a smile that caused your stomach to twist into knots.

"In that case, do you plan on going to the soccer game on Tuesday?" you casually asked before adding, "I know you don't like soccer. I remember you always found a way of being excused when we played soccer during elementary school. Man, you hated P.E., huh? I think the only thing I saw you remotely enjoy was kickball 'cause you were benched most of the time."

"You remember that?" Wanda questioned, astonished you had remembered something like that.

"Yeah, well, you did tell Pietro it was just a bunch of idiots running after a ball." You chuckled. "And you know you're right, but still, If you come," you point to yourself, "this idiot will make it worth your while," you promised, biting your lip expectantly as you watched the brunette girl lower her gaze with a blush.

"And how would you do that?" she challenged, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

You pursed your lips and grabbed your chin, thinking. How about I dedicate every goal I make to you? Does that sound about right?"

You didn't think Wanda's face could be redder than it was, but you were proven wrong as the color intensified at your words. With a nervous chuckle, Wanda stated, "That sounds very self-assured. How do you even know you'll score anything?"

"I firmly believe that anything is possible with the right motivation. So how about it?"

"Alright, I'll be there." She shook her head at your shit-eating grin. "We should actually do some work now."

You left the Maximoff household not long after. You parked your car in your driveway, still smiling like an idiot, thrilled that Wanda had accepted your proposal, though you would have to be sure to score during the game. You remained in the same state, replaying the conversation with Wanda until it dawned on you, the implications of your promise becoming clear.

"Oh, my God! Was I flirting with Wanda?"

You didn't make those types of promises to any girl, right? You were confused because you had never been interested enough in a girl to flirt with them. Now, here you were, flirting with none other than your best friend's sister. You rested your forehead on the steering wheel and took a deep breath, deciding it was a problem to dwell on another day.

The next day, your nervousness from the previous day was replaced by excitement. The only class you could freely talk with Wanda was art, so you decided to take advantage. You made it your mission to make her laugh at your stupid jokes during class. You were lucky that your art teacher didn't care as long as you were doing your work.

Lunch was also different, as Steve, Natasha's boyfriend, joined your group. He and Wanda hit off quickly, bonding over their love for Harry Potter and their incredible art skills; you thought it was adorable.

Then there was Natasha, asking Pietro if he was attending the game, to which he promptly answered, "I wouldn't miss it for anything in the world. What kind of friend would I be." He shook his head in denial at the simple thought.

You raised your eyebrow knowingly, "You sure it has nothing to do with eyeing my teammates?"

He dramatically sighed, raising his hand to his chest, feigning hurt, "Your accusation wounds me, Y/N. When have I ever ditched you for another girl?" He tried to keep a serious expression but eventually burst out in laughter at your incredulous stare. You rolled your eyes as you and Natasha joined him.

"How about you, Wanda?" Natasha interrupted Steve and Wanda after they settled down. "Are you going to the game tomorrow?"

"Oh, please. My sister hates soccer. I'm sure she'd rather stay home reading her romance books."

You bit your lip anxiously. Even though Wanda had agreed to attend the game the night before, you couldn't help but feel insecure about her response. What if she had changed her mind? A soft tap on your leg under the table brought you out of your thoughts. You immediately knew Wanda had sensed your uneasiness, and it was her way of soothing your thoughts.

"Well, you thought wrong. I'll be there." Pietro looked at her suspiciously, resisting the urge to do the same to you. "School spirit." She shrugged, throwing you a discrete mischievous smile that caused you to look down in delight.

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The atmosphere buzzed with excitement from the eager spectators, ready to demonstrate their support. The crowd's chatter reached your ears as you warmed up in the field. It was a sound you've learned to love as it pumped you up for the game and motivated you to give it your all. However, on this occasion, it wasn't just the crowd that had you giddy with excitement.

Your eyes wandered to the stands, searching for a certain green-eyed brunette, and you quickly found her sitting next to her twin and Steve in the lower row of the stands. You waved at the three, eyes lingering on Wanda as your coach called your teammates over.

Your teammates huddled with your coach, giving a brief motivational speech before your team got into the 3-4-3 formation; you, Natasha, and Monica Rambeau were the forwards. Natasha, who was also the team captain, walked towards the referee and the captain of the other team, and a quick coin toss determined your team would begin the game.

The whistle blew, and your redhead friend kicked the ball. The first 15 minutes of the game were uneventful, the ball traveling back and forth on the field. Then, you saw an opportunity when you found yourself nearing the goal area. You'd only have to bypass two defenders. Natasha was open to your left. Even though you knew you could easily pass the two girls, you passed the ball to Natasha, who scored the game's first goal. After all, it was a team game, and you reasoned you had enough time to fulfill your promise.

True enough, another chance arose seven minutes later when Monica kicked you the ball. Adrenaline coursed your body, heightening your senses, and your mind raced, assessing the terrain. The crowd's screams increase the closer you run, some in delight, others in protest. You sprinted forward, only slowing down as a defender barreled towards you from the right. You tapped the ball with the side of your right foot in a split second, sending the ball between the girl's legs. You resumed your attack, and in an instant, the ball soared past the goalie's hands into the top right corner of the net. You scored a goal. Not just any goal; it was a goal for Wanda.

You could hear the crowd cheer as Natasha embraced you, but you only cared about Wanda's reaction. You looked at the crowd, seeing Pietro and Steve cheering for you. Contrarily to the two boys, Wanda remained silent, but she had a visible soft smirk on her lips. The intimacy of the act was far more encouraging than the boisterous cheers that surrounded you, and you knew you had to score more.

The first half was almost over, and you found yourself with the ball in the penalty area after a girl charged at you, sending you to the ground. A raging pain surged in your hand and wrist as you landed wrong. You gasped and held your arm to your chest as you continued to lay on the floor. Natasha, Monica, and another teammate, Maria Hill, rushed to check on you.

As players and the referee surrounded you, Wanda observed your unmoving figure from the stands with bated breath. She clasped her hands, anxiety growing in her chest the longer you stayed down. It wasn't until you rolled onto your back and used your left arm to move into a sitting position with Natasha's help that she could breathe.

You could see how you clenched your hand and nodded in assurance as the referee, and you discussed. You finally raised to your feet, using only your left arm for support, which Wanda noticed, as well as keeping your right hand close to your stomach. Despite her worry for you, the game continued as you prepared for a penalty kick.

You inhaled deeply, disregarding the pain in your wrist, and instead concentrated on where to direct the ball. In a swift motion, you once again sent the ball to the end of the net. Euphoria filled your body at your accomplishment. Ready for Wanda's rewarding smile, you turned towards the girl, but she wasn't smiling this time. Instead, the brunette's face is twisted into a frown. You realized she was worried you were hurt as you noticed her eyes lower to your right wrist.

Hoping she could read lips, you muttered, "I'm fine," and smiled at her. You can see her anguish diminished at your reassurance. Next to Wanda, her brother and Steve were too busy celebrating to notice your interaction.

The game resumed for the remaining minutes of the first half before you went on a break. During the next half of the game, the opposing team is reinvigorated and scored on your team. However, it doesn't faze your team because soon after, Monica scores. In the game's last minutes, you scored the final goal with Maria's help, closing the game at 5-2.

A cheerful roar echoed throughout the field at your team's victorious outcome. Natasha wrapped her arms around you in a bone-crushing hug before some of your teammates joined her. You were beyond ecstatic knowing you had scored three goals for Wanda.

You look where they were seated. Pietro fervently shook his sign in the air while Steve gave you both a thumbs up. Then there was Wanda, bashfully smiling at you, uncaring if anyone saw. You wanted to go and boast about your achievement but knew you'd have to wait a moment. Your coach congratulated you, and after you chatted with a few members of the other team, you left to the stands, eager to go to Wanda.

You nearly sprinted when you were finally free. Wanda, Pietro, and Steve stood together at the foot of the stands, waiting for you and Natasha. The moment Pietro realized you were approaching, he began cheering.

"Here they come—the stars of the game!" Pietro exaggerated, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and squeezing. "You know, I thought you were joking about being good, but I can admit, I was mistaken."

"Shut up." You pushed him away, rolling your eyes.

"It's true. I enjoyed watching you play. Even Wanda, who hates soccer, did, right sistra?" Pietro wrapped his other arm around his sister, and you waited for her answer.

"Yeah, it was fun," she replied nonchalantly.

"You two were amazing. Though I'm a bit biased when I say you were the best Nat," he praised his girlfriend, and she reached up to kiss him.

"Uhh, gross," you groaned, taking Natasha's hand and pulling her along, "We have to freshen up quickly, okay."

Natasha finishes before you and tells you Steve is waiting to take her home. You took longer examining your hurting wrist and concluded that icing would be enough. By the time you were done, the sun had already begun its descent, casting hues of pink and orange in the sky. You trailed back to where you had left your friends, but as you got closer, you could only see Wanda absentmindedly kicking the grass to distract herself.

"Hey," you greeted, playing with the strap of your bag, unsuccessfully searching for Pietro. However, you appreciated his absence because it allowed you to be alone with Wanda.

"Hey," she responded, tightening her arms around herself to retain heat against the frigid breeze that clashed against her skin.

"Here, put this on," you offered her your soccer hoodie, taking it out of your bag.

"Oh, no. That's not necessary," she rejected your offer, shaking her head in embarrassment at the idea of wearing your hoodie, nonetheless one with your name.

"Come on, Wanda. You're out here freezing because I asked you to my game. It's the least I can do," you insisted, nearly shoving the warm cloth in her arms and dissolving her reluctance.

Wanda slipped into your hoodie, a sigh of contentment falling from her lips at the warmth that enveloped her body. "Thank you."

"No problem." You grinned, loving the sight of her wearing your hoodie. "So, ah, where's Pietro."

"He went after one of your teammates. He said he'd be back, but we both know that's not happening."

"Wow, he's such a dick. He was supposed to be here for me, and not to mention he left you here all alone." you indignantly accused.

Wanda shrugged her shoulders, "I don't mind. He asked if I was fine before he left. Besides, I can walk home. It's not that far."

You scoff, "Absolutely not. I'm driving you home." You grasped her hand, leaving no room for rejection, and led her to your car in the parking lot. You unlocked your car and opened the passenger door for her before taking your place.

You pulled out of the parking lot, glancing at Wanda with a grin. "What did you think about the game? Was it worth it?"

Wanda pursed her lips, thinking, "Hmm, I guess it wasn't that bad. Natasha and Monica were phenomenal," she teased.

You played along, narrowing your eyes, offended, "What do you mean, Natasha and Monica? What about me? I scored three goals for you."

"Mhm, you were decent, I guess," Wanda declared mischievously, causing you to gasp out loud. Then, she burst out in laughter at your dramatics, and you joined her, not resisting the melodic sound. "Okay, I'll admit I'm impressed. I never thought you would be good at anything other than causing trouble."

"Wow, straight to my heart Maximoff. Maybe it's a good thing we weren't friends before because, with how you treat me, I'm sure my self-esteem would be down to the floor."

"Pardon me for not stroking your already enormous ego." You both laughed, and Wanda's eyes fell to your wrist on your lap. Wanda took a serious tone and questioned, "How's your hand? You feel hard on it. Does it still hurt?" She gently grabbed your wrist, examining for any visible harm.

"Uhm, no. I'm fine." She raised an eyebrow unbelievingly, and you playfully rolled your eyes. "Alright, on a scale of 1 to 10, the pain is about a 4. Nothing severe. I'll ice it when I get home, and hopefully, it gets better," you reassured her, pulling into her driveway.

Wanda was still too busy looking at your swollen wrist, and her concern warmed your heart.

"Honestly, thank you for being there today. It means so much to me, and I hope you'll be there for more," you confessed.

"Really?" Wanda questioned lowly, her thumb grazing your wrist.

Your eyes locked on the gentle movement as you answered, "Mhm if you want, I'll keep scoring for you."

She gently sat your hand down. "Then, you'll have to do it for all your games. Are you sure you can keep a promise like that?" Wanda asked, head tilting, making your stomach turn. You were sure you had never seen anything more attractive.

"For you anything," you replied absentmindedly, eyes shooting wide open when you realized what you said. "I-I mean, I don't mind. I'm just that good, you know. I think I proved that well enough today, don't you think? I think I did. Three goals, right? No one else did that," you babbled, wishing the earth would swallow you whole.

"Right," Wanda responded, holding back a smile. "And since you offered so nicely, I'll keep attending your games."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

A comfortable silence settled in the car as your eyes locked with Wanda's forest-green eyes. As you scanned her beautiful orbs, you noticed the gold and blue flecks in them, which further enchanted you. The atmosphere was filled with an unknown tension that caused your heart to race and your body to burn. Your eyes flicker to her lips, and you consider what they'd feel like on your own or if they'd taste as heavenly as her sweet aroma.

You feel a magnetic force propelling you forward, closer to her lips. Any sense of restraint was banished from your mind as you surrendered to the desire that had tormented your thoughts since you saw her at the airport.

Wanda licked her lips in anticipation, charmed by your flirtatious words and attractive looks.

You were mere seconds away from getting your wish when the sound of a closing door pulled you apart. You nervously chuckled while Wanda fidgeted, looking anywhere but at you. The magic surrounding you seconds ago disappeared altogether, leaving behind suffocating awkwardness.

"Thank you for the ride, Y/N. See you later." She forced a smile, clearly uncomfortable, and left the car.

"No problem." You watched her until she entered her home. Then, you banged your head on the headrest with a groan, "Stupid." What the hell were you doing? Were you about to kiss her?

If your feelings for Wanda weren't clear, they indeed were now. You were crazy for her and didn't know what to do. She was your best friend's sister, after all. Maybe you could talk to Pietro?

A million questions ran through your head as you drove home.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda x reader #wanda x you #targaryenmarvel fics

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astermath · 11 months

Text

sweet like you🍓

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

summary: carmen stumbles across a local farmer’s market on accident and discovers a family run strawberry stand. he discovers that not only the strawberries are delicious and sweet, but so is the girl selling them to him.

word count: 2.1K

notes: yk what’s really funny,, i never realised so far a lot of my fics involve the color red. perhaps it’s becoming my new favorite color and I love to make it obvious dsgdfsj,, anyways first time writing for carmen, been obsessed w him since the bear came out. i’m a whore for jeremy allen white in case you haven’t noticed. anyways this will def get a part two!!

P.S. let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for further carmen berzatto related content! comments and reblogs are highly appreciated, requests are open!

Saturday was farmer’s market day.

Every Saturday morning, dozens of independent businesses, farmers and food stands would come together at Lincoln Park to sell their wares. It made for a colorful and interesting blend of smells, sounds and sights, and for most, a great way to start off their weekend.

And Carmen was no exception to this. He’d first stumbled upon it by accident on his way to the Beef. Taking a wrong turn because of his still waking morning head resulted in him walking through the park and, unavoidably, being distracted by what vendors there were. A chef at heart, he couldn’t help but look around the wide array of fresh ingredients available for purchase. He’d taken out his notebook and started writing down business names as he tried a sample every now and then.

He held a bag of fresh paprikas in one hand, making his way down the line before he came across a peculiar and seemingly very busy stand. The fresh, sweet scent of strawberries allured him, stepping closer to take a look at what they had to offer. And it was exactly that, just strawberries. It appeared to be a family business, your mother and father packing orders, and you at the front taking them and accepting payments. For a second he just kind of stood there, bag in hand, staring at you. There was no way you were from here, Chicago doesn’t let a smile like that survive very long. Or maybe that was just his cynical mind doing its usual thing.

He snapped out of it when you glanced his way, looking to the side. He felt his cheeks getting warmer, embarrassed that just looking at a pretty girl got such a reaction from him. He’s a collected person, he should be acting like one. He took a deep breath and got in line. Lord knows what he’d be using strawberries for, he’d figure something out, might as well just eat them as a snack while the season allowed it.

“Hi! How many?” Your voice was sweet and chipper, something he couldn’t even think of being after taking orders all morning. Somehow, you kept it up.

“Oh, uh...” He looked at your display, before remembering that all you sold were strawberries, so browsing just made him look even more stupid. “How many... Strawberries?”

“Boxes. They’re 500 grams, 5 bucks each. So how many?” Your smile remained the same, though you were slightly amused by his confusion.

“Oh, right. Sorry.” He could have sank into the ground right then and there. Of course you meant boxes, who in their right mind is buying individual strawberries? “Uh... Just one box is fine, please.” He reached for his wallet while you took over a box from your mom.

“Great! That’ll be 5 dollars please.” You took the slightly crumpled bill from his hand, storing it in the tin box in front of you and quickly writing down something on a paper. Seemed like you still did everything by hand, he couldn’t imagine what a mess it would be if he had to do that at the restaurant.

“Here you go, have a great day!” The box you gave him was neatly wrapped in brown paper, with a sticker serving as a business card on top.

“Uh...” He stared at the sticker, reading over it before looking back up at you.

Ask for her name.

“Yeah...”

Her name.

“You too.”

You idiot.

He picked up the box and walked away, walking a little faster than usual. He was never good at talking to people, but god, that was just embarrassing. He opened up the packaging, and took out a perfectly plump strawberry. He took a bite, humming as the juicy sweetness washed over his tastebuds.

Lunch rush had just ended, and Carmen was sat outside the back of the restaurant with Richie, smoking as per usual. Except now, a small cardboard box sat between them. It was almost empty as the two of them snacked on the fruit between puffs of their cigarettes.

“Ya know, I read somewhere on Facebook that these are supposed to help with uh... Cancer or something.” Richie said, throwing the green leafy part back into the box.

“You’re a fuckin’ idiot, cousin.” Carmy smiled to himself, back leaned against the wall as he brought the cigarette to his lips.

“Oh, why’s that huh? Cause I can’t read shit online anymore without having to do an hour of research behind it?” Richie furrowed his brows, blowing smoke out his nose.

“No, stupid,” Carmen put the cigarette out on the concrete. “Cause you’re fuckin’ smoking, man. The fuck is a strawberry gonna do against that.”

“Yeah, well... I try to stay positive, you should fucking try it sometime, ya depressed asshole.” He grabbed another strawberry. “Where d’you get these from anyways? Shit’s pretty good.”

The image of you working at the stand flashed through his mind. “Passed by some random farmer’s market this morning. Might stop by there again, got a ton of fresh produce there for not much money.”

“Speakin’ of produce.” Richie used his thumb to point back over his shoulder to the kitchen. “Place’s out of onions. Your magical farmer’s market got those? Cause we need more by the dinner shift.”

Carmen groaned, wanting to curse at Richie for not letting him know earlier. But honestly, if it gave him a chance to go back, get more delicious strawberries and possibly redeem his awkward first impression to the pretty girl there... It might not be a bad idea. He checked the time on his watch, early afternoon, you’d probably be wrapping up right now. If he was fast, he could totally still make it. “Fine, but I’m taking your car.”

“Don’t crash it.” Richie said as he got up, ready to get back inside.

“You’re the one with a suspended license.” He joked, catching the keys Richie threw at him that were totally not aimed at his head.

“Fuck you cousin.”

Parking was a bitch, as always, but Carmen had managed to find a stall selling onions for about half of what he usually got them for. He was starting to like this market, not just for the prices, but because these were all people who worked hard and loved their products. A lot of work goes into putting something out there to sell, he would know.

He realized he might be pushing his luck if he still wanted to see you, but he decided to take the chance nonetheless and walk down the lineup. It seemed to be his lucky day, as he caught sight of your parents loading up mostly empty boxes back in the car. You were working on breaking down the stand, doing so with relative ease. You were currently folding up the tables, kneeled down onto the ground.

Again, he stared. Honestly, how could he not? It wasn’t every day he saw someone so beautiful, and with a sweet personality to match. Granted his only interaction with you had been brief, but still, he got a good vibe from you, and he was usually so distrustful.

You looked up, and by pure coincidence, your eyes met. His eyes were so intense, hues of blue that anyone would recognize, even from a mile away. You certainly recognized them from this morning at least. Your face brightened with the same smile he saw you had before, and for a second he wondered if it was just a customer service thing.

“Hi! Hope you enjoyed your strawberries!” You got up, holding the folded table under your arm.

“Sure did.” He put on a bit of an awkward smile. God, why was he doing this... What was he even supposed to say?

Your eyes squinted slightly when you read the words on his shirt. “Nice shirt... Oh, wait, you work at the Beef?”

His body tenses up a little when you mention the restaurant. Given its... Peculiar reputation, that question could be followed up by any kind of statement. “Yeah, yeah, I uh... I kinda run it now.” He decided not to mention Mikey. Seemed a bit overkill to mention your dead brother to someone whose name you don’t even know.

“Ohhh, that’s you! Yeah, I’ve seen you smoking outside before.” You extend your hand and you both introduce yourselves. “I work at a café just two blocks over. You might have seen it, it’s called Odette’s?”

Carmy nodded. He knew that place. He also knew the cranky old French lady who owned it. “Ah... Yeah. Menu still the same?”

“As long as Odette is still alive, I doubt she’ll ever let me change anything. ‘Over my dead body, cherie’”. You jokingly imitated her French accent, chuckling to yourself.

Carmen smiled, glad that he’s at least not making a complete fool out of himself now. This was good, he knew this, work and food, those were his safe topics. “Yeah, well... Maybe if she tasted one of these strawberries first, you might convince her.”

“Huh,” You thought to yourself for a second, imagining your usual grumpy boss overflowing with glee after trying the fruit from your family’s farm. “You know what, I’ve never actually thought of that. Maybe I’ll try it out!” You smile. “You know I’ve been meaning to try and serve some of my pastries there. I’m a huge baking fanatic, but she’s so... Set in her ways. I don’t know if my amateur baking skills could possibly convince her, no matter how tasty the strawberries I use are.”

“Yeah, I know what that’s like...” Carmen thought about his crew, and how much they loved their so called ‘system’. Change was good, change meant progress, but it was also scary. On that part, he didn’t blame her boss for refusing to switch things up. “If you want, I could help you out. I’m a full time chef, so... Always willing to taste test.” He hoped his poorly masked excuse to stay in touch came across as friendly, and not pushy. He always felt like he was overthinking everything when he was trying to socialize, like he was reading off some type of script. Your chipper personality made things a tad easier, at least.

“Really?” You seem to brighten up even more. Carmen is sure there’s light shining from your face from how excited you look, but he doesn’t mind. It’s amusing, almost... Cute.

“Yeah, I don’t see why not. Just uh... Let me know when.” He puts his hands in his pockets.

“Of course!” You pause, realizing he’s probably expecting you to give him some kind of contact information. Unless he was planning to use telepathic communication. You put down the folded table. “Right, sorry, uh...” You laughed awkwardly and pulled out a pen and an old receipt from your back pocket to scribble your number on, before handing it to him. “There we go!”

Carmen’s eyes went over the number, putting it in his wallet so he wouldn’t forget to save it later. “Cool, cool... So uh, text you later.” He silently cringed at his own words, trying painfully hard to play it cool.

“Yeah, totally!” Your mom called your name, and you look over your shoulder, seeing her gesture to you to hurry up. “Be right there, mama!” You chuckled. “Sorry, duty calls! But yeah, I’ll hear from you. And if I don’t, I know where you work, Berzatto.”

He chuckles slightly at your joking threat. “Sure, I’ll hold you to that.” He gives you a curt wave before walking off and letting you go back to work.

He really hoped you didn’t mean that “threat”. He’d rather die than let you see him at the Beef right when they got such a bad hygiene rating.

He was laid down on the couch late at night, watching an episode on the food network about an olive farm in Italy. He wondered if your family’s farm was anything like this one, and remembered he hadn’t even saved your number or texted you yet. Carmen rubbed his sleepy eyes and pulled out his phone, saving your number under a new contact and typing out a few quick texts. He stared at the screen for a few seconds, realized he was overthinking it and fell asleep not long after, the sound of an elderly Italian woman speaking on TV in the background.

[unknown]: hey, it’s carmen

[unknown]: guy from the beef

[unknown]: next thursday work for you?

You groaned in your bed, looking over at your phone and cursing yourself for forgetting to turn off your notifications. “The fuck...” Your eyes squinted at the brightness of the screen. A sleepy smile adorned your face when you read his name, saving his contact and texting something back quickly before putting the phone away and going back to sleep.

[y/n]: for sure!

[y/n]: let’s do 4:30 PM? café closes at 4 anyways so we’ll have the kitchen to ourselves :)))

#aster writes the bear #carmen berzatto #carmenmath #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto the bear #the bear fic #the bear imagine #the bear #carmen berzatto fan fiction #carmen berzatto x fem!reader #jeremy allen white #jeremy allen white imagine

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optimist-pine · 1 month

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Granny

Summary: You and Daryl have a secret confusing love language of insults

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,236

Era: Seasons 1-5(ish), The quarry - Alexandria

It had started shortly after your first encounter with Mr. Dixon. Simply a passing (slightly pointed) comment - nothing more - as some of you gathered around the fire that night.

Dale stands near the flames, removing a whistling pot from the heat. "Anybody want a cup of tea? Kettle's hot."

"Why dun'cha ask granny over there?" Daryl suggests, nodding towards you with a snigger. Merle's not around tonight, and so it seems he's found a way to create a bit of entertainment.

Your head snaps up when you realize you're the butt of the joke, hands stilling as you set down your work. A crochet hook or knitting needles find their way into your hands as often as that damn crossbow ends up in his; usually when it's too late in the evening to be doing anything else. "You know what? I would love a cup of tea. Thank you, Dale." You reply, taking the steaming mug that's passed to you with a smile that melts into a pointed glare the second Daryl's eyes meet yours.

The corner of his mouth twitches mischievously. "Somebody get out tha' fancy china an' the biscuits an' we'll have ourselves a real tea party." He's prodding the coals with a stick, and in the darkness, the slope of his shoulders brings to mind the image of a caveman. The thought amuses you.

You nod your head, contemplating. "Hmm... I'd be down for that. In fact, I have a feeling we might even be in the presence of a tea party expert." You say knowingly. Sophia and Carol sit cuddled up to your right, and the little girl looks curiously up at you, cradling a well-loved teddy bear. You turn to the child, lowering your voice. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about tea parties, would you?"

She curls into herself a little, shyly. But at her mother's gentle urging, she nods her head, a tiny smile appearing on her face.

You clap your hands together. "It's settled then! Tomorrow we shall have a tea party." The last part is aimed at Daryl - you feel proud of yourself, but the confused look on his face makes you question why. It's like you've taken his accusation as a challenge to prove just how grandmotherly you can be, and funnily enough, he's probably right. You're actually looking forward to hanging out with Sophia tomorrow; she's a pretty cool kid.

Carol tuts softly. "After school." She adds.

"After school." You agree, shooting Sophia a conspiratorial wink.

Every time Daryl spots you working with your yarn he can't resist the urge to tease you about it. Maybe it's because you take every jest in good humor, or maybe it's because you always have a quick, witty comeback. He's never quite figured it out, but somehow it's become a staple of your interactions. Even though so much has changed, he's oddly glad that this hasn't.

One night, in the dead of winter, as the wind howls through gaps in the window frames you get an ornery glint in your eye. Daryl's already found your behavior suspicious, whatever current yarn project you've been committed to hasn't made a single appearance the entire evening. And the way you keep glancing at him almost nervously is... unsettling.

When he looks up again you're walking towards him, hands tucked behind your back, trying so hard to look casual that it doesn't take long before all eyes are on you. You stop in front of him and promptly shove a box in his face. No, not just a box. It's a present, wrapped perfectly in polka-dotted gift wrap with a glittery bow to top it all off.

He stares back at you, wondering what punchline he's missed.

You roll your eyes. "It's a gift, Daryl."

"Why?" He asks. He'd trust you with his life any day, but right now - with that box - he absolutely does not.

"Well, why don'tcha just open it and find out?" You taunt, shaking the present just a smidge.

He takes the box, feeling awkward and clumsy as he tears away the paper. Having never opened a present before - at least nothing like this that is - feelings of stupidity and excitement and pressure blend within him.

He dumps the object into his palm. It's cool and smooth to the touch; a black mug with white writing that says "World's Crankiest Grandpa".

You're trying so hard to withhold from laughing that your face is turning pink.

"Think ya could get yer money back on this one?" He asks, spinning the cup around to critique it.

You slap his arm lightly. "Ah, Dixon, you're no fun."

"She might'a hit the nail on the head there." Rick chuckles.

You sit back down, finally pulling out your yarn like all is now right in the world. "Ah, I found it a couple days ago. Couldn't resist. S'pecially not after the dream I had where you were yellin' at the walkers to 'git offa yer damn lawn'..." You shudder. "Took me a bit to get that one outta my head."

That earns quite a few laughs from the rest of the group. Once again, you've managed to lift the mood of those around you. It seems to be a habit of yours.

He turns the mug over and over again, running his thumb across the letters. He knows it's only a gag gift, but he's not blind to the effort that went into it. And it's not an exaggeration to say that this silly mug is by far the most thoughtful gift he's ever received.

He hangs onto that mug, using it proudly every day. Of course, it garners the occasional question from the new folks, but he doesn't mind. Soon enough he's got a matching handmade hat, scarf, and gloves as proof of your continuing love for the grandmotherly hobby.

When the prison falls he misses those gifts severely.

But then, Alexandria. The day he comes across you there on the porch in a creaky rocking chair, with your cup of steaming tea and a ball of yarn, the once-familiar urge to say something a little stupid and a lot annoying takes over.

He stoops down and leans in. "Where's yer glasses at, old lady?"

You wave your hand to shoo him away. "Ah, git yer muddy boots off'a my porch ya ol' geezer." You nag, the smile you're trying to hide peeking out like a sun ray from behind storm clouds. He holds his hands up in mock surrender, clomping down the steps. But it's not like he's trying to hide his own smile or anything... Not at all.

When he returns home that evening, there, sitting on the end of his bed, is a small box. It's perfectly wrapped in paper that's covered in birds and trees, encircled with a pristinely hand-tied bow. He can't deny the flutter of excitement as he plops down to unwrap it. It's like Deja Vu, the coffee mug tumbling into his palm. This time it's white with black lettering that reads "I don't always roll a joint, but when I do, it's my ankle".

With a snort he falls back onto the bed, letting old memories wash away the burdens of the day. However he can, whatever it takes, he'll hold onto the hope that you'll both end up old and gray and worn someday - together.

#twd #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #twd season 1 #twd season 2 #twd season 3 #twd season 4 #twd season 5 #optimist pine

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loveharlow · 2 months

Text

SEVEN - 002

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[6.5k] based on 1x02.

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, mentions of parental neglect, mild violence, mentions of death/grief, disturbance of a graveyard (?)

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

A/N‧₊˚ I've been wanting to do an OBX rewrite for a very long time so here it is, the first chapter from yours truly.

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

“DO YOU REALLY THINK BIG JOHN COULD STILL BE ALIVE?” Kiara’s slightly digitally distorted voice came from the other end of the line. Your phone was pressed between your ear and shoulder as you searched the hangers in your closet, bath towel wrapped snug around your frame and your hair thrown up into a bun, which was presenting more like a mess of damp strands.

“It doesn’t matter what we think, Kie,” You made clear, eyeing a cute shirt you thought you’d lost. “We should just be there for him.”

“Yeah… but what if we’re just feeding into a fantasy? Wouldn’t that make us bad friends if we weren’t honest with him?” You could hear her shuffling around on the other end of the phone as well, dresser drawers slamming occasionally.

“Maybe you’re right.” You sighed, throwing your outfit onto your bed and heading back into the closet to find a bikini to wear underneath. Living in the Outer Banks meant you had a plethora to choose from. “But the way I see it? If it were my dad that went missing, I’d be looking for him too. I’d give anything to even have that small hope that my dad was still alive back, but I know he isn’t… so, I understand.”

“I didn’t think about it like that…” It was sad to hear her so conflicted, as if she’d said the wrong thing.

“Well, I wouldn’t expect you to. And I would never want you to be able to understand that feeling. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.” You reassured, putting the girl on speaker to toss the phone on your bed and slipping the bikini you picked out onto your frame and tying the respective knots. “That’s why if John B thinks his dad is alive and wants to look for him? That’s what we’re gonna do. Because alive or not, John B is like a brother to me and leaving him to do this alone is what would make us bad friends.”

“I guess you’re right…are you still meeting up with the guys today?”

“Just J and John B for right now. Pope said he’d be around later after helping his pops.” You told her, slipping an oversized shirt over top of the bikini, eyeing your closet shelves for a pair of shorts.

“Alright, I might swing by if my parents aren’t up my ass about work.” She complained. “Talk to you later.”

“Later.” Was all you said before the end-call sound rang out in the expanse of your bedroom.

A swift series of knocks met your closed door from the other side, you shouted for them to come in, assuming it was either your mother or your dog Marley’s tail hitting the wood. The 2-year-old golden retriever had a knack for sitting outside your bedroom door on the rare occasion that it was closed and she wasn’t inside.

The knob twisted and in walked your mother, adorned in her signature navy blue pencil skirt and blazer, still a half hour to spare before she had to head off to her office for work. Rebecca Reyes was the Outer Banks’ most notable and renowned lawyer. Even when you still lived on The Cut all those months ago, she was still the island's number one defender. Moving to Figure Eight and getting rich, almost overnight, just gave her the resources she needed. You still questioned where all the money spawned from, chopping it down to your father’s life insurance coming through.

But the bank said that could take a while and you never assumed it was enough to buy a house on Figure Eight. But that’s adult stuff, you thought to yourself.

“You got home late yesterday,” She began bluntly, adjusting the diamond bracelet on her wrist. The smell of her expensive perfume already wafting into your space. “Where were you?”

“Just out with John B and the others.” You said with a shrug, walking out the closet with a pair of sneakers in your hands as you undid the tied laces.

She hummed, eyeing the space around you as if she’d never seen it before. “Did you hear about the boat they’re searching for? Scooter Grubbs’ boat?”

You side eyed her quickly, not quick enough for her to catch however. “Yeah, the whole island is losing their minds over it.”

“You and your friends haven’t come across anything, have you?”

“...I doubt we’d have any luck coming across a Grady-White, mom. Especially after the hurricane. That boat could be oceans away for all we know.”

“Right.” She agreed, but she seemed far away. Off. Why’d she care about Scooter Grubbs’ boat? “And what’s this I hear about some kid with a gun at The Point?” Your heart dropped.

“A gun?” You acted semi-shocked. “I don’t know, I wasn’t there.”

“Hm.” She droned. “Well, if you find anything don’t hesitate to tell me. Or Shoupe, for that matter. He said two out of towners showed up for the boat search yesterday, looked sketchy. So, be careful.”

You hummed in agreement, watching as the woman strutted out of the room without even a small ‘goodbye’.

You and your mother were nowhere near as close as you used to be. Your father’s passing caused a rift between the two of you that seemed irreparable. You just felt like she had become so cold and closed off, nothing like the woman who used to bake every weekend or plan family nights in the backyard. She was more secretive, dismissive. You couldn’t even remember what her smile looked like. She’d changed so much. She used to hate Sheriff Shoupe, said he was a dirty cop who worked under the rich snobs of Figure Eight. Now, it’s like they’re business partners of some sort and she is a rich snob on Figure Eight.

She even changed her last name back after your father died and wouldn’t tell you why. That was what made you feel the most alone. Rebecca Carter was now Rebecca Reyes but you were still Y/N Carter and your father would always be Owen Carter.

It was like she was trying to erase him and everything they’d built together.

You hated to admit that sometimes you wondered what your father would think of the woman she’s become. If she would be as unrecognizable to him as she is to you.

YOU SAT IN THE BACK OF THE VAN, legs bent as your journal rested atop your thighs while you scribbled down your thoughts and recent events — namely the events of yesterday. You had one earbud in, your playlist on shuffle as you half-listened into JJ and John B’s conversation that was happening in the front seat, the bumpy ride making your handwriting a bit chicken scratch-ish.

“I don’t understand why you don’t at least try with Kiara,” JJ started, his heavy boots kicked up on the dashboard. “She clearly likes you. She’s like ‘Oh, John B!’. She’s sketchy about you diving and then she kissed you, bro.” The blonde continued.

“She kissed me on the cheek. It’s not like we were makin’ out.” John B denied, brushing off the girl’s clear affections.

“Low-hanging fruit, bro.” JJ cut him off, the statement making you cringe in silence as you continued to scribble. “I see it in your eyes. You’re like ‘I kind of like that’.” JJ said in a mockingly low and seductive voice.

“Okay, you want to talk about me?”

“Yeah, bro, I wanna talk about you and your lack of game.”

“My lack- my lack of game? Okay, what game do you have, JJ? ‘Cause I haven’t seen any improvement in your case.” JJ’s head whipped between you and the boy in the driver’s seat within milliseconds before he was swatting John B’s arm.

“C’mon, dude...” He warned in a hushed tone. John B just chuckled.

“That’s what I thought.”

Moments of silence passed before their voices were heard again. “I gotta admit, your dad’s compass in Scooter’s boat? Freaky, man…” JJ claimed, twirling the newfound object between his fingers.

“That’s why we’re going to talk to Ms. Lana and figure this whole thing out. She’s his wife, she has to know something.” John B told him.

“And what makes you think she would want to talk to us?” You added, spooking the blonde boy in the passenger seat.

“How long have you been listen-”

“I’m always listening.” You spoke bluntly, a blank expression on your face as you averted your attention from your journal to him. “Anyway,” you dismissed. “A group of teenagers showing up to ask her about her dead husband, the boat that the whole island is looking for, and the compass we found inside of said dead husband’s lost boat? She’ll either think we’re criminals, FBI, or crazy.”

“Well, this is our first resort.” John B replied, eyes looking at you through the rearview. “We gotta try.”

“KNOW WHAT THIS HOUSE LOOKS LIKE?” JJ said, leading the group of us to the front yard of Lana Grubbs’ residence. “Whoever lives here smokes too much weed.” He observed the small, shack-like house — the walls were overgrown with weeds, the yard looked like it’d never been cut, the place was a mess from the outside.

The three of you stopped, more like flinched, in your tracks when you heard glass-shattering from the inside of the house followed by crash after crash. It sounded like the outside of a rage-room or a gun range.

“Maybe we should come back…” JJ advised, taking small steps back. But John B persisted, even as the two of you stood back in fear.

“No, no, shut up, JJ.” John B reprimanded absentmindedly.

“Tell me where it is or I’ll fuck you up!” A deep, brassy voice boomed from the inside. The voice so authoritative it made you shudder, but it didn’t worry you as when a woman’s scream followed. You could only assume it was Ms. Lana. “I’ll sink you in the fucking-” A crash, louder than the rest, cut off the sentence, almost covering the sound of Ms. Lana’s blood-curling screech.

“You’re hurting me!”

John B beckoned JJ and you on with his hands, urging the both of you to move forward. Reluctantly, and after a weary glance at one another, you and JJ followed the brunette boy who was edging closer and closer to the side of the house.

“Where the fuck is it?!”

“I don’t know!”

The three of you quickly dashed and ducked beneath the window seal on the only open window when you heard something hit the wall from the inside. You had just parted your lips to say that, just maybe, this was a bad idea. A terrible one, even, before a phrase yelled by the angry man inside had you shutting up.

“The compass wasn’t in the boat! Where is it, Lana?!”

“I don’t know!”

Your heart dropped as things continued to get thrown and slammed inside the house and you prayed those ‘things’ didn’t happen to be Lana. The paint and wood started to physically chip and fall off the walls outside, landing on top of the three of you crouched against the side of the house, wood particles falling into your eyes.

“Let’s get the hell out of here, man…” Another male voice commanded, followed by two pairs of heavy footsteps against the wooden floors inside. The three of you peeked around the corner to watch the two men disappear from the grounds through the front door, stomping angrily towards their boat.

The same boat that had been shooting at you only 24 hours prior.

“Those were the guys that shot at us.” JJ whisper-yelled.

“Go back.” John B commanded, pushing you all back behind the safety of the wall so they wouldn’t see you all. Once the boat sped off, the three of you slowly tip-toed your way into the house. The sound of Lana’s cries getting louder and more heartbreaking the more you entered the house, shoes crunching on wood and glass. Photo frames and dishes all broken into smaller fractions and littered on the floor, holes in the walls, kitchen cabinets hanging on by a single hinge.

“Ms. Lana?” You called out, voice laced with concern, eyeing the broken windows before they found Ms. Lana’s curled up figure on the bathroom floor right below the sink that was hanging on by a singular pipe. “Oh my God.” You gasped, kneeling right next to the woman and laying a hand on her shoulder that caused her to flinch and shrink in on herself.

She had tears running from her red, swollen eyes, curled up like someone’s child.

“She is tweakin’.”

“Shut up, JJ.” You hissed, shooting a mean glare at the insensitive blonde before turning your attention back to the feeble woman. “Do you need a doctor? We can call a doctor for you.” You assured, examining the multiple cuts adorning the woman’s face and arms.

“We can call the sheriff’s department-” John B was on the verge of suggesting before Lana cut him off frantically.

“No cops, please!”

“Mm, that’s not good. Let’s bounce.” JJ urged, weary of the woman’s persistence to avoid law enforcement.

“You shouldn’t be here...” Lana cried, her eyes focused on John B, speaking as her lip quivered and her voice shook.

The brunette’s face twisted, kneeling next to me to level his gaze with Ms. Lana’s. “Do you know those guys?”

“They were… looking for something.” Her voice wavered.

“...Does it have anything to do with this?” John B asked her, pulling the compass from the back pocket of his board shorts. You and JJ shared a glance, both knowing John B probably shouldn’t have shown it to her. “This was my father’s and Scooter had it. Do you know why?”

Why did John B think showing a woman his father’s compass and saying he copped it from her dead husband was a good idea? You had no clue. Interrogation tactic? Impulsiveness? Stupidity? Lana’s eyes were wide and teary, she looked like she was seeing ghosts.

“Scooter didn’t have it, okay? Don’t tell anyone that you have that. They can’t know that you have that!”

Your lips pulled themselves into a thin line and you were starting to feel less bad for Lana and more suspicious of the distressed woman. Maybe she wasn’t as innocent as she appeared. She didn’t seem to be a threat but she clearly knew things that she shouldn’t. You nudged JB’s arm, whispering in his direction even though the woman could most likely still hear you. “We should go…”

“You’ve gotta get out of here!” Lana cried, fearful gaze eyeing the compass in John’s grasp.

“What do you know about the compass?” John B raised his voice over her frantic one, still questioning Lana as JJ pulled him back and the three of you stood to leave.

“Go! Get out!” Was the last thing you heard as the hysteric woman yelled at your retreating figures.

“SO, YOU SAW THE GUYS THAT SHOT AT US, RIGHT?” Pope asked with his head in his hands, stressed after listening to JJ’s dramatic rendition of events. The three of you had returned to The Chateau and summoned Kiara and Pope not too long after, the events of today on the tip of your tongue. “Did you get a good description of them? Anything we can bring to a police report?”

You shook your head along with JJ and John B as Kiara and Pope sighed at you all's lack of response. There was nothing special about these guys. Sure, they seemed out of place but that’s because nobody on the island knew them. That was one perk about living in Kildare, everyone knows everyone. But these weren’t leather jacket, ski-mask wearing criminals. They didn’t stick out like sore thumbs.

“That’s not very helpful…” Kiara huffed.

“But, but,” JJ started again. “They were burly. Like the men I’d see at my dad’s garage. You guys know he made cargo hides for drug smugglers...” He reminded you all carelessly. “I can tell you with full confidence that these guys? They’re square groupers.”

“Like Narcos square groupers?” Pope questioned with little amusement, his face dropping as he watched JJ smoke against the brick wall.

“Like, Pablo Escobar square grouper?” You added on, just as skeptical from your seat on the patio floor, legs stretched in front of you and crossed over one another while you leaned on your elbows for support. JJ just nodded, blowing out smoke.

“You guys, not everything is a kingpin movie.” Kie reprimanded from her place next to Pope on the patio furniture.

“Okay,” Pope started. “What does a square grouper look like? Hm? Because clearly, you don’t know what you’re talking about-”

“Okay, you weren’t there! I wasn’t taking little mental polaroids the entire time, dude! I was under duress!” JJ whined to which you and John B rolled your eyes.

“Why would they want the compass?” Kiara probed, leaning forward in her seated position, resting her forearms on her thighs.

“That thing’s a piece of shit, you could pawn it off for five bucks if you wanted to… No offense, John B.” Pope claimed honestly, watching as John B flicked the object open and stared at it longingly, paying no mind to the boy’s insult.

“Well, clearly it’s worth something.” You popped in. “Considering these guys are willing to kill for it.”

“...The office.” You all turned to the scruffy brunette. A silent question on everyone’s face. “My dad’s office.” John B continued, shooting up and walking inside The Chateau as you all scurried to follow, shooting one another confused glances. “He always kept the office locked ‘cause he was worried about his competitors stealing his Royal Merchant research. Remember?” He directed at you and JJ, looking back but still walking forward. “We used to laugh at him like he was actually going to find it. But now that he’s…gone, I just left it as he kept it.” He said despondently.

“Yeah. For when he gets back.” Kie backed him up with a light-tipped smile. Keys jangled as John B unlocked the room you hadn’t seen in years. Not since before Big John went missing. Before all of this.

“I’ve slept over here like six-hundred times and I’ve never seen this door opened.” Pope said aloud, eyeing the office like a museum.

This was like being hit by a tidal-wave for you. And you’re sure it was the same for John B. You can remember the countless nights you’d slept over before and after Big John went missing. Before he went missing and you, JB, and JJ would peek inside just to watch him just write and type like his life depended on it. It even brought back memories of when your dad would stay a while after dropping you off to spend the night just to share beers in the backyard with Big John.

The nights after his disappearance weren’t as sweet though. Sleeping in a group hug around John B after his dad went missing. Then your friends all slept in a group hug around you after your dad went missing. Then they slept in another group hug around you when your dad’s body was found, washed up on the shore for the entire island to see. With the plethora of events, The Chateau became a haunted house in your mind.

“Look,” John B said, pulling you out of your stupor. He’d taken a bulletin board down off of the walls that was decorated with paper scraps and old pictures. His index finger pointed to the photo at the very top, a sepia-like tint to it. “This was the original owner of the compass.”

The paper pinned against the photo read ‘Robert Q. Routledge. 1880 - 1920’.

“There’s the lucky compass right there.” Kiara showed you all, pointing to the object clutched in the old man’s hand in the picture. You wouldn’t exactly call the compass lucky, though. And if it was before, it surely isn’t now.

“Actually, um. He was shot after he bought it…” John B informed. “Then the compass was shipped back to Henry.” He continued guiding you all through the timeline, pointing to the next picture. “Henry was killed in a crop-dusting accident when he had the compass.” You happened to look up at the exact same time as Pope, the two of you locking eyes with visible worry. “After he died, the compass was given to Stephen. Stephen had it when he died in Vietnam.” The boy ranted. “After that, Stephen passed the compass down to my dad.”

“This is painting a very bad picture, JB…” You warned, hand on the back of your neck as your face twisted.

“Yeah, he has a death compass.” Pope deadpanned.

“I do not.” John B denied, rolling his eyes and sitting down in the nearest chair with the compass still in hand. “My dad used to talk about this compartment here.” He explained, fiddling with the article between his fingers. “Soldiers used to hide secret notes.” He twisted the back of it off, revealing a word scratched into the top. He sat up with surprise as he spoke. “...This is my dad’s handwriting.”

Pope scoffed. “How can you know that?”

“He’s right.” You assured the doubtful male absentmindedly, squinting your eyes and craning your neck down to see the word written into the metal. “Big John had horrific handwriting and his R’s always had a point to them. I always used to think they looked like big-headed baby chicks, in a way. That’s definitely his handwriting.”

“Weird observation…but she’s right.” John B backed you up, his eyes going back to the compass. “Redfield…” He muttered. “What’s Redfield? Is it a clue?”

“A clue? C’mon that’s-” Pope began until you shot him a nasty glare, silently telling him to be helpful and supportive or shut up. His eyes widened as he gulped. “If it is a clue, m-maybe it’s an anagram?”

“Yes!” John B jumped up from his seat, beckoning you all to back up some. “Anagram. Perfect. You need paper.” He directed at Pope, eyeing scanning the cluttered space. Handing the boy an old, crinkled sheet of notebook paper, Pope got to work with the help of JJ and Kiara as John B and you scoured the desks for anything else of use.

Your ears were quick to pick up on the sound of an engine over the chatter of the brainiac bunch behind you. Eyes perking up to see a black truck pulling onto the yard.”...Guys?” You spoke, but not loud enough. “Guys!” You shushed them, all eyes turning to you. “Somebody’s here.”

The five of you crowded around the window, peeking through the blinds and peering through the dusted glass. Two males got out of the car and you recognized them immediately. “Those are the guys from The Marsh and Lana’s house.”

John B was quick to turn towards JJ. “Where’s the gun?”

“I don’t know-”

“Now you don’t have the gun? The one time we need the gun?” Kiara panicked.

“It was in my backpack and then I-...it’s on the porch.” JJ quickly realized, sighing before biting his lip out of frustration.

“Go. Go get it.” John B urged quietly but you were quick to step up, tugging the short sleeve of JJ’s shirt before he could open the door.

“No, no, we are not sending JJ out there to be pummeled by square troopers, square groupers, whatever they are-”

“We need the gun-” The bandana-wearing boy hissed.

“I don’t care. We stay put. We stay together.” You insisted. But JJ gently swiped your hand down and backed out of your reach, one hand up in surrender. “What’re you doing-”

“It’ll be quick, I swear. I’m like a ninja-”

“JJ.” You said simply, disappointed as you curled your fist in annoyance.

“I’ll be on my Batman shit.” He whispered before leaving the room quietly with the door cracked behind him, allowing you all to see him leave.

“John Routledge!” A country man’s voice boomed, causing JJ to turn around and slide his way back into the room quietly before he’d even made it two steps outside of the office. “C’mon out now!” JJ closed and locked the door as you all heard the pairs of footsteps enter The Chateau. The men began smashing and throwing things around just as they did Ms. Lana’s house. Was this their MO or something?

‘Window’ Kie mouthed, pointing to the window that led straight into the yard, towards the chicken coop and the surf shack. JJ and Pope rushed over to it as John B held down the door, which was just him standing against it with his hands above his head. JJ and Pope tried to lift the frame but it wouldn’t budge. Your face twisted in confusion, walking over to where the two boys were struggling and attempting to pull up the window seal yourself with no better luck.

“It’s painted shut.” You couldn’t help but smack your teeth, cursing under your breath as your eyes quickly scanned the room for something sharp as you patted the back of your shorts, feeling an object in your pocket. Digging your hand in to reveal a pen, the one you’d been using to journal that morning. You whispered for the guys to move before ejecting the pen and sliding it quickly along the seal to break it as quickly as possible.

Suddenly, one of the square groupers began kicking the door down, John B running across the room.

“Hurry!” Kiara whispered.

“I’m going as fast as I can!” You hissed. When the seal was completely broken, you wasted no time in opening the window, being the first to jump down into the backyard and making a b-line for the coop. The five of you piled inside one by one, the space surprisingly big enough for five fully grown teenagers as you crouched in tense silence. Just then, you heard a shot ring out from the inside of the house, assuming the man shot the door down.

Everyone could hear everyone breathing, shaky breaths all throughout the small enclosure. And the roosters. One rooster would not stop crowing. You were hoping, praying the damn thing would stop making noise. It wasn’t long before the guys were seen leaving the house, carrying at least two crates of books and research each.

“Pope, shut him up.” JJ demanded, referring to the rooster next to Pope that was making the most noise.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Pet it or something, I don’t know.” Kie cried. Suddenly , JJ got up and grabbed the rooster by its neck, pressing it into the ground until its neck audibly snapped and its clucking ceased. You couldn’t help but cringe and look away, the sight somehow prompting you to gag. JJ’s eyes met yours as if he was making sure you were okay, you giving him a sickly nod in return. One that wasn’t as reassuring as you hoped. Kie was crying silently and you didn’t miss the way John B grabbed her hand in comfort.

“WHAT BETTER PLACE TO HIDE A MESSAGE THAN A FAMILY HEIRLOOM?” John B tried to muse from the driver’s seat of The Twinkie.

“Maybe somewhere more easily accessible.” You said bluntly, laying back on the floor of the van, your foot on Pope and head in JJ’s lap, Kiara in the passenger seat. “Like a hidden jewelry box compartment or a locked drawer. Not inside of a death compass on a dead man’s sunken boat.”

John B simply ignored you. “He had to know it was gonna get back to me, right?” He spoke hopefully, referring to his father.

“It’s possible.” Kie agreed from the passenger seat next to him, not wholeheartedly however.

“It could also be possible that you’re concocting wild theories to help deal with your sad feels- Ow!” Pope was interrupted when you kicked his knee, shooting him a glance that said ‘what the hell'.

“You know how I process my sad feels,” JJ started, your eyes drifting to him as your head craned slightly back from its place atop his thighs. “Dank nugs and the stickiest of ickies.”

“Preach.” You agreed, dapping up the blonde boy.

“Look, I’m not concocting, okay?” John B nearly shouted in frustration. “My dad’s trying to give me a message.”

“...If it helps you believe, John B.” Kiara tried softly.

“I don’t need a therapy session. I’m not trippin’ out.” He dismissed the four of you. “My dad is missing, okay? Missing. You guys don’t know what it’s like to have the person closest to you vanish and have no idea what happened.”

Suddenly, the two pairs of eyes in the back of the van turned to you. You couldn’t help but curl in on yourself slightly. “Stop it.” You demanded, averting your eyes to the window, watching the palm trees pass by. You hated when they acted like you had to be shielded from things because of what happened to your dad.

“It’s been almost a year.” Kiara nudged JB, letting it go. “But fine. What do you think the message is?”

“Redfield.” The brunette reiterated hopefully. “Redfield Lighthouse. My dad’s favorite place.”

THE LIGHTHOUSE LOOKED A BIT DIFFERENT THAN YOU REMEMBERED. It looked older, more rickety. You could swear it was leaning now. The five of you stood staring up at it before John B turned around to face JJ.

“You’re gonna post up out here and look for bogey’s. Alright?”

“Wait, why me?” JJ asked pitifully.

“...JJ, there are independent variables and dependent variables. You’re an independent variable-” Pope tried to reason.

“Shut up.” The blonde-haired boy dismissed with a snarl.

“We don’t know what you’re gonna do!”

“Just shut up!”

“Listen to me,” John B broke the boys up, pointing an assertive finger. “Pope, you stand lookout with JJ. Y/N, you make sure they don’t rip each other’s heads off. If we get split up, we meet back at JJ’s house.” You watched as Kiara and John B hopped over the fence and onto the lighthouse property. You slid your back against a nearby tree, one earbud placed in your ear as you drummed your fingers against your thigh, playing with blades of grass between your fingers.

“I’m gonna work on my merit scholarship essay. I’m trying to keep felonies to a minimum.”

“All right, would you just shut up already?” JJ sassed, you rolling your eyes and scoffing at them both. A few beats passed before JJ spoke again. “They’re probably boning in there right now.”

“Jesus, JJ…” You breathed out.

“What? You don’t honestly believe they don’t have a thing for each other, do you?” He defended.

“Maybe you’re just jealous.” Pope offered from his place in the grass.

“Jealous? Of what?”

“Because John B’s trying to move in on Kie and you have a thing for her.”

“Listen, dude,” JJ started with his hands out in front of him. “Kie’s hot and all but she’s a kook. I don’t see her like that.”

“That’s what they all say.” You sang playfully, causing JJ to whip around to face you.

“Oh, really? And what about little miss pretty & popular?”

You visibly cringed. “Ew, don’t ever refer to me like that again.”

“You’re telling me you aren’t crushin’ on someone? No rich, polo-wearing kid swept you off your feet during you and Kie’s kook year?” He egged on.

“Knock it off, JJ.” Pope defended when he saw how your face fell at the mention of it. You hated when they brought it up. Technically Kie’s kook year was longer than yours, considering you’d joined her kook friend group when you moved to Figure Eight. That was an era of your life you’d love nothing more than to forget.

“Fine, fine,” He backed off, his hands thrown up in mock surrender as he backed some steps away. Just then, the three of your heads whipped to the dirt road behind you at the sound of police sirens. You snatched the earbud out of your ear and pocketed it, standing up from your place against the tree. They were clearly headed for the lighthouse.

“What do we do? Do we wait?” Pope asked frantically.

“We can’t, man, c’mon.” JJ urged, sprinting towards the van with you and Pope following close behind. He jumped into the driver’s seat, pulling off before you and Pope had even closed the side door completely. You could only have faith that your other two friends made it out okay.

“NEXT TIME YOU END UP AT THE SHERIFF’S OFFICE, YOU CALL ME FIRST. DO YOU UNDERSTAND, JOHN BOOKER?” Your mother reprimanded the poor boy, her heels clacking against the pavement outside of the department. You didn’t expect a call from John B after you all had run from the lighthouse, coming from the Kildare County Sheriff’s Station from John B saying he and Kiara had been “arrested”.

“Yes, ma’am.” He affirmed. By the time you’d arrived at the station, Kiara had apparently already left with her dad who’d refused to bail John B out as well, leaving the boy with only one other option. The three of you stopped in front of your mother’s car as she now turned to face the two of you.

“Shoupe already has enough to deal with. The sheriff’s office doesn’t need a couple of rowdy teenagers on their radar. I don’t know what you kids were doing up at the lighthouse that led to this, but drop it. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” You both blurted out simultaneously, your mother having a newfound knack for intimidating people. She didn’t hesitate to jump in her car and start the engine, giving one last look as a goodbye.

YOU WERE AT THE DOCKS WAITING ON JOHN B, SITTING ON THE WOOD AND SWINGING YOUR FEET. You’d gone with him when he realized it was time for him to work, an employee saying Ward was looking for him as soon as the pair of you had arrived. He was up on The Druther’s, Ward’s boat, talking to the man himself. You couldn’t tell what the conversation was from your seat on the docks, so you waited. It was only minutes before the boy himself came stomping down the marina, prompting you to get up and dust yourself off.

“Is everything okay-”

“I just got fired.” He blurted, not even making eye contact with you and he brushed past you. You stuttered at his passive nature, scurrying to follow behind him.

“What do you mean you just got fired?”

“Ward found out about the gear.” He scoffed, and even with his back to you as he breezed through the working people to leave the dock, you could almost feel his frustration. “I can’t believe her.” He muttered.

“Who? Who are you talking about, John B?” You soon got your answer as Sarah Cameron walked by, you and the girl making brief eye contact with a mutual snarl on both of your lips before her attention turned to John B, who she somehow saw after you.

“Hey, John B.” She greeted, her hands full of paper bags that were filled to the brim with groceries, a large, brimmed hat on the top of her head. You weren’t surprised when he continued walking as you followed without a word to the girl, but she persisted. “That’s it?” Sarah scoffed. “Not a ‘hey, how you doin’’? Not a ‘kiss my ass’?”

You didn’t expect John B to turn around and swiftly walk over to the girl, getting all in her face. With the noise of the busy marina in the back, their close conversation became hushed but it was still audible enough.

“Your secret’s safe with me? Really?” Your friend pressed the girl. “I just got fired because of you. And I know you can’t imagine that but some people need jobs, so they can eat.” Nothing shocked you more than when he smacked the bag of goods from her arms, leaving Sarah stunned as fruits rolled in front of her sandals. Her jaw slack and eyes wide.

“What the fuck?” She hollered.

“You are exactly who I thought you were, Sarah Cameron.” He reprimanded, turning and leaving behind a stunned kook girl. Although, you would’ve paid money to see that again, it was such an odd interaction.

You knew he worked on Ward’s boat so he was bound to come across her but you weren’t aware they really talked. If you didn’t know either of them, you’d assume they were a high school couple arguing out in public.

The brunette brushed past you once again, taking his time and seemingly building up the courage to break into a run.

“Wh- John B!” You called from your place in the parking lot. “John B, where are you going?!” But it was no use as he simply left you behind and continued sprinting away. You figured you’d just give him some space to himself.

YOU’D RECONNECTED WITH POPE AND JJ SOON AFTER BEING LEFT IN THE DUST BY JOHN B, meeting them on the docks in The Cut. The three of you had been there for some hours, you helping Pope fix a generator while JJ smoked unhelpfully to the side when John B pulled up in The Twinkie.

He honked, beckoning the three of you into the van with a finger and none of you questioned what was happening or where you were going as you hopped into the rickety vehicle. You were mildly pissed about being left at The Marina but you got in nonetheless.

THE SUN HAD SET AND YOU ALL STILL HADN’T ARRIVED YET. John B briefly explained the destination and plan but you half-listened. You’d been driving for a long time, picking up Kiara along the way, with no clue as to where the five of you were going.

“Do you mind if I sit this one out?” JJ asked tiredly. “It’s been a long, weird day…”

“Look, I know I was wrong about the lighthouse.” John B acknowledged. “And wrong about everything else. But I was right about one thing — my dad is trying to tell me something.”

Just then you pulled up to a graveyard, the five of you piling out of the van with a flashlight each in your hand. “This place is scary.” Kie voiced. “John B, what are we doing?”

“You know how you’re trying to remember a song but you can’t remember who sings it?” He started. “Redfield. This whole time, I thought it was a place.” He explained as you all followed him further into the mess of graves and tombstones. “But it’s not.” He held the lantern in his hand up once you all stopped in front of a tomb, one of the tallest ones in the yard, revealing “REDFIELD” engraved in the stone. “It’s a person. My great-great-grandmother, Olivia Redfield. That was her maiden name.” He spoke longingly, looking up at the stone letters. “Help me with the door. C’mon.”

Pope stepped forward as the remaining three of you flashed your lights in the pair’s direction as they attempted and failed to push the tomb door open.

“Are you pushing?” Pope said to the brunette.

“Yes, I’m pushing.” John B strained out. Then JJ was jumping into help but even with his addition, the boys had no luck opening the door. They all jumped back when a snake hissed, peeking its head out from a crack in the stone structure.

“Woah! That’s a moccasin, alright” JJ started, jumping back almost cartoonistically. “Ye-old cottonmouth. Death in tall grass. Roof! Roof!” JJ started barking at the snake. Sometimes, you questioned his sanity.

“JJ! Shut up!” You warned the erratic blonde.

“You’re gonna wake the dead.” Pope slapped him on the shoulder, grimacing.

“Dude, they’re afraid of dogs. Everybody knows that.” He breathed out, straightening himself back out.

“Look, John,” Pope sighed, turning his attention back to John B. “We’re not gonna get in there, it’s not budging. We should probably just go.”

You were examining the tomb carefully, flashlight trailing the structure up and down before you noticed something. “I think I can get through.”

“...What?” John B spoke.

“You think you’re gonna fit through that hole?” Pope asked, worried.

“I’ll do it.” You reassured them, ignoring their concerns. “Just help me up.” They all shuffled to help you up — Kiara and John B holding the vines away and to the sides while JJ and Pope intertwined their hands for you to use as a human step-stool.

“What am I looking for?” You inquired, eyes fleeting to John B.

“You’ll know when you see it.” Your hands slapped your thighs. Helpful, you thought, but you didn’t ask anymore questions. You put your flashlight in between your teeth, like a dog carrying a bone before laying a hand on each of the boys shoulders, you put your foot over their connected hands and boosted yourself up.

It was a tight squeeze but you made your way through, landing on your feet and removing the flashlight from your teeth. It took your eyes a minute to adjust, staring at the walls of the spooky space.

“You alive in there?” JJ called.

“Alive and kickin’.” You called back, aiming the flashlight everywhere, scanning over everything. But the space was much bigger than you thought and your one flashlight didn’t seem to be enough. “I need more light, please.”

“Gotcha’.” John B said, pushing his arm holding the lantern through the crack of the wall, illuminating the space by tenfold. And that light was just what you needed.

“Oh my God…” You breathed out. John B may not have led you all on a goose-chase after all.

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

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©loveharlow.

#Spotify #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj mayback imagine #jj mayback x reader #obx jj #SVN #obx fanfiction #jj maybank x you #jj maybank fluff #obx jj x reader #jj maybank smut #jj maybank imagine #obx jj maybank #obx netflix #obx x reader

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cerastes · 2 years

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The internet is carried on the backs of sub-10k subscriber tech support youtube channels that have the most specific ass solutions to the most specific ass system errors, tech stuff is the one thing I recommend not Googling and instead slamming in a Youtube search.

All the top hit pages in Google for tech support and how to fix this or that are “10 Ways to Fix Error!” and then they go on a soliloquy about what Windows is to fill word quota. We KNOW what Windows is. We make fun of online recipes where the author tells you about how much those mashed potatoes were a beloved family tradition dating back to 1937 when the author and her sister would play in the woods and get bitten by ticks and get Lyme Disease and then after a lot of playing, they’d come back home and eat the most generic ass recipes, yeah, we do that, but we oughta start doing that with tech “support” pages too like god damn, “10 Ways to Fix Error!” except the first 3 “ways” are “Reboot your computer <3″, “make sure you updated your PC <3<3″ and last but not least, the world champion heavyweight nothingburger, “open the Command Prompt as administrator and run sfc/scannow </3″ LOCUSTS UPON YOU, MAN, if I can’t fix the problem, and it is a problem, no fucking way Microsoft software is gonna do jack fucking shit.

The “way” number 4 is, you know it, the sponsored product of the day. Install Krunklo Driver Manager! The best Driver Manager software out there! Here’s a trial version that has fuck all and the paid version is 39.99 each second.

Way number 5 through 10 are various things like exsanguination, putting mercury in your bloodstream, a jar of snake oil, or leaving aromatic substances near your vagina so your hysteric uterus comes back betwixt your loins.

So you just wasted an hour or two on the equivalent of vigorously dancing around the flames the rid yourself of the malaise, and all your god said was “well it’s just 39.99!”, FUCK that, you go to Youtube, copypaste slam whatever the error was in the search bar, and there’ll be one specific ass person out there in the world that solved this and made a video on how to solve it, just for you. The video will be from 2019, and you didn’t even know computers existed back then, but they DID, and this FUCKER OF MOTHERS, may they fornicate many parental figures of their preferred disposition, made this video for YOU. There is meaning in you perusing that video.

It’s 1:14 minutes long and immediately eradicates the problem decisively. You are now oathbound to take a bullet for this beloved stranger, your computer is back in action, and you are not 39.99 poorer. Krunklo Driver Manager will not have its day.

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stinkywritin · 4 months

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Late Night Devil

Lee Heeseung x male reader

Short synopsis: You catch a glimpse of the mysterious figure and your life’s forever changed…

…a nice way of saying gay vampire Heeseung brain rot

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, essentially PWP, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), top!Heeseung, bottom!male reader, oral (reader receiving), biting kink, praise kink, FILTH IM SORRY

Title from song Teeth by 5 Seconds of Summer

(a reupload a my favorite fic from my old blog)

You felt eyes on you ever since you arrived at the party.

Ever since you walked through the front doors with your mother and father, you felt as though you were being watched. No matter how many times you turned around and checked, there wasn’t anyone looking.

Not until you got to the banquet hall.

Everything was draped in luxurious red cloth, the high ceilings connected to a glass dome which allowed the guests a full view of the starry night sky. The tables adorned with the finest tablecloths and expensive tableware you felt nervous picking up for fear of breaking it, the near overwhelming amount of candlelight contrasting the darkness of the night. The dark wooden chairs complimented the equally as dark tables, the ballroom devoid of all color except for the hints of burgundy.

You continued to feel watched over even as you slid down onto one of the chairs next to your mother, your black coat draped over the back of the chair as you fiddled with the silver rings on your hand. One of the rings on your finger was etched with your family crest, handed down from your father once you became of adult age and joined your father’s oil business. Light organ notes danced in the air as the chatter amongst guests grew louder, more families arriving and filling up the tables.

“Sit up straight Y/N!” Your mother scorned you, her previous lecture of maintaining the family image still ringing in your ears. Her voice sounded strained through the tight corset, you were pretty sure her internal organs were all smushed together. A tight lipped smile stretched on her face as she looked around the banquet hall, many other families and members of higher society. Politicians, heirs to fortunes, royal family members, everyone who had more money than they knew what to do with.

Through your father’s business, your family was ranked fairly high on the social status, no where near the level of royalty but definitely a name with notoriety. You being the eldest son meant you’re the child who received the burden of continuing you family’s legacy, expected to not only further your business’s success but to also hand it down to another son. Either this or marry into an even richer family but you were never interested in any of the female suitors your father brought to you, denying any advance before retreating into your studies.

Your father suddenly beckoned you to his side across the hall, champagne glass in hand along with the most manufactured smile while speaking to other men with the same expressions. Your face was devoid of any emotion as you walked to join his side, the light tapping of your shoes on the banquet hall tile was drowned out by the band in the corner.

It’s not that you didn’t like your father, quite frankly you didn’t know enough about him in order to form a sold opinion about him. You’d seen his multimillion dollar company run so many small villages into the ground, clearing out acres of land for hopes of even drilling a single drop of oil. You heard the protests of the people in your country, pleading for companies to stop their mindless destruction of land but like all the other companies, your father didn’t listen. You had no intention of continuing the family business, hoping that maybe one of your siblings would take it over or that you could personally destroy it from the inside out. Plans to escape the damned family business flooded your mind as you stood next to your father, stone faced as he bragged to a distant colleague about whatever bullshit rich old men brag about.

It was during a conversation about coal plants that you saw him for the first time.

Your eyes mindlessly moved along the grand staircase, up along the marbled railing of the balcony, before spotting him alone with his hands folded along the railing. Eyes instantly meeting yours.

His skin was perfectly smoothed and sculpted, his appearance statuesque as he held strong eye contact with you. The darkness in his eyes matched the slant in his grin, a devious smirk was on his lips as his eyes raked you in, seemingly drawing you closer to him. The dark strands on his head complimented the dark velvet coat on his shoulders, the ruffles of his white shirt peaking forward elegantly.

“Y/N what do you think?” Your father’s voice interrupted your speechless encounter with the brunette, ripping your eyes from the beauty before you to bring you back to Earth. Dante himself wouldn’t be able to fully capture the beauty of the man you laid your eyes on, his descriptions of heaven coming second to the allure of the man who captured your attention.

“Sorry come again?” You replied haphazardly, already tuning out the conversation before you look back up to the gorgeous creature from before. Only in the mere seconds you looked away, he had vanished. Your bewildered eyes searched all over the balcony for him, refusing to believe he was a figment of your imagination.

“Sorry gentlemen please excuse me one moment” you politely moved away from the men, leaving behind a group of insulted men and your angry father. Your heart rate picked up as you began your search for the man from earlier, refusing to let him leave your life as quickly as he had entered.

Your footsteps echoed in the hallways of the palace, the tiled floor ways leading to multiple different rooms. You came across a portrait in a hallway far from the banquet hall, the frame picturing a family with an only child. A son whose eyes seemed to bore into your sole, the faces of the parents had been scratched out, the colors worn pale from age.

“Such a shame isn’t it?” A rich, melancholic voice startled you from your spot before the portrait, the handsome stranger from before suddenly appearing behind you. You hadn’t heard his footsteps, nor any other indication he was near you. “The colors were much more divine when the portrait was freshly made.”

“When was it painted?” You asked the stranger, his smile was playful as his eyes shifted from you to the painting.

His hands were folded behind his lower back as he spoke up, “I stopped counting after the third century.”

Well fuck. Even though everything about that response screamed ‘don’t come near me I’m dangerous,’ something about the way his eyes flatly observed the portrait before you pulled you in for more.

“Do you know the family?” You asked, your voice wavering as you continued to take in his appearance. The man before you seemed to have discarded his coat, the silk of his white shirt now on full display. There wasn’t a single wrinkle, every fold was pressed neatly on his body. If elegance was a person it truly would be him.

“Do you always stutter when asking questions?” His eyes quickly turned to make eye contact with you, a playful slant adorned his lips at his teasing. You couldn’t help the rush of heat to your face, hopefully he couldn’t see the blush on your face but judging by how his smile grew, it was evident he saw it.

“I guess only when I’m talking to pretty people” you shrugged, your eyes traveling away from his to study the portrait once again. The scratch marks on the faces of the parents tore through the canvas, making it obvious someone took a knife to the portrait. Although the colors were muted, you didn’t doubt that the robes and silks worn by the parents were more expensive than your father’s entire company. Then there was the little boy. He looked no more than 6 years of age, cheeks puffed and eyes full of childlike wonder, his face was the only one still remaining on the portrait.

“You can do better than juvenile pick up lines” the man scoffed, your eyes snapping back to him just in time to see him stifle a laugh. “This isn’t a school courtyard.”

You let out a chuckle, already cringing on your cheesy one liner. “I apologize for that sir but I don’t apologize for the pretty laugh it let me hear from you.” Now it was his turn to blush.

It was the chiming of the bells from the clock tower that erased the relaxed feeling between you two.

“Excuse me sir L/N but I’m afraid that’s my queue to leave.” As he started to turn on his heal away from you, a tight feeling within you snapped and you reached out to grab his wrist. Immediately you felt his ice cold skin on your hand, his face contorted in shock as he looked back to you. “What are you-“

“How did you know my last name?” You interrupt him, his furrowed brows softening on his face.

“Seeing as how I made the guest list I’m well acquainted with your family Y/N” his cheeky grin was back, his wrist still in your grasp. You relaxed your hold to let him escape but instead he took another step closer towards you.

“You’re part of the Lee family?” You questioned, even if you already knew the answer. The Lee family was one of the wealthiest royal families in the country, owning a luxurious castle away from all the surrounding villages. Your father said they were weird and antisocial but seeing as how they donated to many charities and political campaigns in the villages, they were immensely powerful. No one from the Lee family held any political or government position in centuries but that didn’t mean they weren’t pulling the strings from afar.

“And you still don’t seem to know my name?” His spunky grin broke you from your deep thoughts. You were face to face with a member of one of the most powerful families in the country, your father’s complaints of their wealth ringing in your ears.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I just didn’t think I’d ever meet someone from your family.” You honestly stated, barely noticing just how close he was to you. Your noses were mere inches apart, a strong enough breeze would’ve been able to bring you two together

“Heeseung.” His voice was slightly above a whisper before he continued, “my name is Lee Heeseung.”

Before your brain could talk you out of it, you took his hand in yours before bringing the back of his palm up to your mouth. You have a slight bow as you pressed a feather like kiss to his ice cold skin, you knew he still had that damn smirk on his face even if your eyes were closed. “It’s an honor to meet you Heeseung, I’m F/N L/N of the L/N family.”

“I’m aware” he snatched his hand back, although the grin was still plastered on his face. “This is my home after all.”

Before turning around to leave, he added “Meet me back here at midnight.” It wasn’t a question, more of an order, but you wouldn’t have refused either way.

“I’ll be waiting.” You gave one more curt bow, at which he scoffed and walked away from you. You noticed he wasn’t walking back in the direction of the banquet hall, in fact he was going in the opposite direction.

You turned back towards the portrait before you and as you looked at the boy in the painting again you felt a heavy weight in the pit of your chest. You could suddenly recognize the boy being Heeseung, a smiling young Heeseung. And suddenly the remark of the painting being more than three centuries old made that weight in your chest even heavier.

——

True to your word you returned to your unofficial meeting spot.

It was a pain in the ass trying to shake off your parent’s prying eyes and overwhelming amount of questions. You hid the fact that you had met — and flirted — with Lee Heeseung from both of your parents, you knew they would demand that you introduced them to him so you made up a lie about getting lost trying to find a bathroom. Seeing your parents fake smiles and having to endure a terrible sales pitch from your father was a special kind of hell that you didn’t want Heeseung to experience. Thankfully they believed your lie and didn’t press any further, leaving you alone for the rest of the evening.

It was a little before midnight, right when you were about to leave to see Heeseung again, that you spoke to your mother. You told her you would stay behind for a little while longer and that they should leave without you, that you’d call a cab later and meet them back at the house. She seemed hesitant to leave you, wanting to know why you would be staying behind but in the end she hesitantly left with your father.

“Just promise you’ll be back in the morning?” She pleaded, cradling your face in the palms of her hands. “Or at least call me in the morning to let me know you’re still alive?”

“Yes mother don’t worry I’ll let you know everything” you offered her a wide grin as she pulled back, the clicks of her heels hitting the tiled floor growing quieter. Once she had gotten in the car with your father, you turned and quickly walked back to the hallway from earlier that evening.

—-

The corridors were empty, only the sound of your hurried footsteps could be heard echoing off the walls. The painting was still just as magnificent as it was earlier in the evening, except as you footsteps took you close to it, you could feel that familiar weight in your chest again. The breaths picked up as you eyed the portrait again, this time feeling as though it was pulling you in.

“You came back” the same honey voice startled you, Heeseung suddenly appearing next to you. He grinned at your attempts to catch your breath, your eyes still wide from the scare he gave you.

“Of course” you huffed out, composing yourself by straightening your back to look him in the eye. “I had some questions.”

Heeseung quirked his head to the side while his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, the smile still plastered in his face. “Questions?” He paused, you gave a shaky nod in reply. “Alright well, ask away.”

“Is that you?” You pointed to the little boy in the portrait, his goddamn grin was making it ten times harder for you to focus on trying to make sense of him.

“Yes that’s me.” Heeseung flatly responded, his eyes traveling to look at the portrait. “I think that was my sixth birthday if I can recall correctly.”

“And you said this was made over three centuries ago correct?” Your voice was wavering, your whole body feeling heavy with anxiety and dread. “How old are you?”

“Y/N don’t you know it’s considered rude to ask someone their age when you first meet?” Heeseung’s met with yours again, seemingly able to bore holes into your brain. As if he could sense the panic coursing through your veins, he sighed before answering “I can’t remember how old I am or how many years are passing by, they all seem to blur together and over time I found it’s easier to not count my age anymore.”

Heeseung’s entire demeanor changed; he was no longer carrying himself with a high level of confidence, instead of the usual cockiness there was a melancholic tone to his voice as he longingly stared at the portrait.

He continued, “I was normal just like you, just human. Until at age 20 I was turned into this by my lover. He turned me into this so that we could be together for all of eternity but shortly after I turned he was killed by some hunters from a village up north. I was 20, a freshly turned vampire and completely estranged by my family for choosing a male lover.” He clutched something in his hand, turning it over before he took a seat on the tiled floor. His back was pressed against the dark walls as he beckoned you to sit next to him.

Once you were sat next to him, your hands making contact with the cold tiles of the floor as your back rested against the wall, you could see a small locket in his hands. The metal was scuffed and old, showing signs of years of use.

“This family,” Heeseung continued. “It’s made up of vampires from all over the country who are just like me. No family to turn to, no friends and partners to depend on, nothing. The Lee family took me in, no questions asked and I’ve been here since. And while the banquets and parties have been quite distracting, I still haven’t been able to find anyone to grow closer to, not since I died and became this.”

A fresh tear had escaped from Heeseung’s eye, it traveled down his cheek until hitting the floor, the man not bothering to wipe it away.

“I’m sorry Heeseung” you shakily whispered, hoping your voice was loud enough to be heard by the vampire next to you. The weight you had felt in your chest earlier — the intense panic over what creature Heeseung was and whether or not he was dangerous — had started dissipating at his words. Not entirely however, and it seemed Heeseung could still sense the remaining anxieties.

“Don’t apologize I haven’t even answered your question yet,” Heeseung wiped the remains of his tears off of his cheek while letting out a small — forced — chuckle. You were forced to go to banquets and business meetings and a bunch of other gatherings of snobby rich people, you were used to fake smiles and even faker laughs; however Heeseung’s was the most heartbreaking of all.

“As for age all I can say for sure is that I’ve been a vampire for a little over 400 years,” Heesung’s fingers messed with the locket in his hand as he spoke. “Anything else you’d like to ask Mr. L/N”

Heeseung had cocked his head to look at you, his eyes instantly letting yours. Sitting beside you was a supposed ‘creature of the undead’, something that up until recently you believed to be fake and the material for fiction. And yet the way Heeseung’s smile seemed to fill your being with bliss was anything but fiction, the way he had drawn you in even if you had only met that evening was a beautiful reality.

But that doesn’t mean you don’t still have questions.

“If you say you ran away to join this family how did you get that painting?” The teasing in your tone evoked a surprised laugh from Heeseung, the atmosphere surrounding you two had lightened, no longer full of worry.

“I’ve been alive longer than your great grandparents don’t question how I get stuff brat” Heeseung playfully pinched your shoulder, sending you two into a lighthearted scuffle that ended with Heeseung’s thighs straddling your lower torso.

“Ok I yield!” You huffed out between fits of laughter. As your chest rose and fell from your attempts to catch your breath, you could suddenly feel how close Heesung was. His hands held your wrists to the floor, his upper body draped over yours. “Okay one last question.”

“Ugh enough with the questions!” Heeseung chuckled out. After seeing the pleading look in your eyes he nodded his head, telling you it was okay to ask what was on your mind.

“Why did you ask me to come back here at midnight?” You asked, the underlying tone of your question being ‘are you going to kill me because I would please like to know in advance’.

“Is my interest in you not obvious enough?” Heeseung softly replied, grin widening when he sees the blush rise to your face. The hands that were on your wrists were now interlocking with yours, his hands delicately squeezing yours as he rested his forehead atop yours. “And here I was thinking you were also interested.”

“I am!” You helped out, causing a fit of giggles to erupt from Heeseung at your eagerness.

Heeseung’s hands were still interlocked with yours as he calmed down, his face still so close to yours. The way his eyes were sparkling with joy made the weight dissipate completely. Heeseung’s faced leaned impossibly closer to yours, his lips mere centimeters away from yours. “You’re so gorgeous the second I saw you I knew I had to talk to you. I knew I would miss the rest of the banquet because I had some business to take care of with another town’s mayor. Corrupt politicians and what not, such a pain to clean blood stains on carpets by the way.” Heeseung rolled his eyes at his comment, you could feel your heart rate pick up at the way his eyes flicked between your eyes and your lips.

“But I knew I had to see you again which is why I asked you to meet me here.” You felt your dick twitch at his words, the smirk playing on his lips was evidence he felt it too.

He started to slowly — so achingly slowly — roll his hips over your bulge. “The entire job I pleaded with the universe to let me see you again, all I could think about was how gorgeous you are Y/N.”

“Heeseung” you panted out, the fabric around your cock getting tighter. “Please kiss me.”

“Absolutely my love” Heeseung’s lips slotted perfectly with yours, your body heat felt as though it rose an extra 30 degrees. The way his lips fit with yours felt like an explosion of pure bliss, immediately opening your mouth to let his tongue in. The way Heeseung kissed you as if he was planning on devouring you made your head spin.

It could’ve been 30 seconds or 3 years but the kiss felt of pure heaven. No amount of time would ever be enough to fully satisfy the need you felt for each other, you thought this as Heeseung’s hip rolls began getting faster. After a particularly loud moan escaped your lips, Heeseung murmured into your ear, “Let me take you to bed my beauty.”

You eagerly nodded as he lifted you both up on your feet, leading you to his bedroom door while having his hand interlaced with yours. You two couldn’t help the giggles or the chaste kisses while you ran to his room.

—-

“Lie on your back for me sweetheart” Heeseung’s voice has seemed to drop a few octaves, sounding huskier as he pushed you back onto his silk sheets and started undoing the buttons on his shirt.

You quickly undid the laces of your boots, chucking them across the room before fumbling with the buttons on your shirt. You huffed in annoyance as you had difficulty getting your shirt off, Heeseung — who was now shirtless — took notice of your frustration and let out a low chuckle. His hands clasped yours as he placed them on you, slowly moving your hands down onto the bed before eagerly grabbing the collar of your blouse and tearing the fabric open. You gasped at the sound of the fabric ripping but quickly began to let out a deep groan as Heeseung began placing soft kisses down your chest. His lips were ice cold, making goosebumps rise all over your body from the drastic shift in temperature.

“There’s no time for slowly unbuttoning clothing” Heesung whispered into the skin on your sternum. His eyes switched back up to meet yours, the look of pure lust painting his eyes, “I want you now.”

“Then take me.” You gasped as Heeseung pushed your upper body down onto his bed, grabbing your hips and quickly pulling down your trousers and underwear, leaving you bare under him. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him close to you to bring him into another heated kiss. You felt the fabric of his pants on your cock as he began to grind his clothed bulge onto yours. The friction causing you to bite at his lower lip, your fingernails scratching onto the skin on his shoulders. One of his hands moved to graze over your bulge, the cold skin causing a shiver to run up your spine.

Heeseung continued to kiss and bite at the skin on your jawline as he wrapped a hand around your cock, giving it a harsh but arousing tug. “Knew you would sound heavenly darling” Heeseung said into your ear, the strokes of his hand becoming more even. “Knew it the second I laid my eyes on you.”

“Heeseung-“ you were cut off by your own whine as Heesung sharply removed his hand to slap your thigh.

“That’s hyung to you brat” Heeseung gave your thigh another harsh smack before bringing two fingers up to your lips. The pads of his icy fingertips grazing along your lower lip so slightly you could barely feel it. “Now open up.”

You opened your mouth to let his fingers dance along your tongue, wrapping your lips around his fingers and sighing. Heeseung’s eyes were fixated on the sight of you sucking on his fingers, his cock growing harder. He pulled his fingers out from your mouth before sliding them over your tight hole, inserting one finger in as you gasped in surprise. His fingers were still so, so cold, causing you to shiver again.

He slowly worked his finger in and out of your hole, teasing his second one before pushing them both in and stretching you open. As his fingers worked to stretch you open, Heeseung licked a stripe from your thigh to the base of your cock. You let out a loud yelp as he licked up the length of your cock, your hands flying to yank at the dark locks on his head. “Oh hyung that feels so good” you moaned out, your eyes squeezing shut from the overwhelming waves of pleasure that were washing over your body.

His fingers quickened their pace as Heeseung’s dark eyes looked up at you, he whispered with the head of your cock pressed against his bottom lip, “cum in my mouth gorgeous.” Heeseung’s mouth took you in, warmth engulfing your entire body as you cried out in pleasure. You could feel the pleasure overcoming you, making your brain foggy as all your senses were being overwhelmed.

All of a sudden the coil in you snapped, you came down his throat as he eagerly swallowed every drop you let out. Even as you came down from the intense feeling, his fingers were still working you open — albeit at a slower pace. When his fingers grazed your prostate you shivered while your thighs began to shake, throwing Heeseung a confused gaze.

“You didn’t think we were done did you?” His smirk causing your thoughts to muddle, he abruptly removed his fingers before smacking your thigh again. “Sit up now darling I haven’t gotten my fix yet.”

He laid back against the dark wood of his bedpost, a pillow separating his lower back from the wood. He removed his pants and underwear before turning to you and patting his thigh, beckoning you over. You let out a small chuckle, your post orgasm brain somehow finding the cheesiness of it all a little amusing.

Heeseung tilted his head in confusion as you crawled over, placing his hands on your hips before saying, “why are you laughing, darling?” He pulled you down to sit on his lower torso, his cock nestled between your cheeks which caused the blush on your face to deepen in slight embarrassment.

“You’re so cute” you placed an innocent peck on his lips, Heeseung gave you what felt like a hundred more as a response. He held you close as the grin on his face grew larger, both of your giggles breaking the kisses. As you both calmed down from your giggling fit, the eye contact you held began intensifying. Heeseung’s eyes seemed to hold all the stars in the night sky with the way they sparkled up at you, the light blush on his face deepening as you held him close.

His hand ran through the hair on the nape of your neck, his wide eyes and large grin seemed to distract you from the fact that you were both completely bare. His finger started to drag from the bottom of your ear down the slope of your neck before whispering, “Can I bite you darling?”

You could feel your soft length grow interested at his question, your eyes widened as they filled with curiosity. “You want to turn me?” Your question made the vampire look up at you, an unreadable look in his eyes.

“I don’t have to turn you.” Heeseung started, his cold hands tightening their grip on your skin. “I can feed from you and as long as I don’t take too much you’ll still be alive and, well, human.”

When the word ‘feeding’ fell from the man’s lips, you suddenly remembered the man — the vampire — below you could very easily kill you in two ways; by either draining all the blood from your body or turning you into an undead creature for the rest of eternity.

“I’ve been alive a long time Y/N” Heeseung’s voice bringing you back to the present. He continued, “I can control my appetite, I will not take more than you can handle and I will stop if you tell me to. You have my word darling.”

Instead of giving him a verbal response, you tilt your head to the side to give him full access to your neck and collarbones and nodded. Heeseung’s hands roughly pulled your hips up, aligning his length with your entrance before pulling you back down to sit on his lap. Your body shivered at the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins, the head of Heeseung’s cock was pressing against your g spot, leaving you full.

As you tried moving your hips, Heeseung would stop your movements to slam you back down onto his lap. His hands moved from your hips further down to hold your ass, his tongue licking over a spot on the crook of your neck. Your neglected length had been interested even after already orgasming once, however all pleasure before this failed in comparison to the feeling of Heeseung’s fangs piercing into your skin. His hips moved achingly slowly as he sunk his teeth into your neck, your grip on him tightening. Even if you had only met Heeseung that night you already knew he had ruined sex with anyone else in the future, it would be only him for the rest of your existence.

Heeseung’s hips kept a slow pace, his soft groan was muffled while he fed from your neck. The intense pleasure coming from Heeseung’s movements juxtaposed the sharp pain on your neck, your post orgasm brain becoming even muddier. You felt Heeseung remove his fangs from your neck, placing kisses on the marks left behind while his hips picked up a faster pace. The sounds of your bodies moving together echoed throughout the room, your pants being interrupted by Heeseung’s voice in your ear giving you encouragements.

“There you go, that’s my good boy.”

“Knew I had to have you the second I laid my eyes on you.”

“Darling you tasted so good, did so well for me.”

“Be as loud as you can for me Y/N, don’t hold back.”

The familiar sensation from earlier came back, this time magnified by ten. You could feel your muscles tightening as you reached your climax, your grip on Heeseung’s shoulders becoming more tense.

“Hyung I’m close,” you whined out. His thrusts were precise and fast, aiming and nailing your g spot head on every time.

“How cute,” Heeseung’s low voice went straight to your hard cock, his hand wrapping around your length and stroking in tandem with his hips. He continued, “My good boy wants to cum for me a second time. Make a mess for me sweet boy, I’m right there with you.”

You reached a moment of euphoria, your entire body tightening up before you came all over Heeseung’s hand. You felt Heeseung reach his high because his thrusts stilled, his grip on your body tightened before he went slack. Your body slumped into his as you now began trying to catch your breath. You heard Heeseung let out a giggle as he held up your tired body.

“Nope you’re not getting off that easy.” Heeseung quickly flipped you onto your back below him, the speed shaking you awake. His body was bent over yours, he brought one of his hands up to your mouth and put his palm to your lips. It was the palm that was covered in your release, “lick it off baby, you’re helping me clean up.”

You quickly licked your release off his hand, holding eye contact with him the entire time so you could see his proud smirk. His lips graced yours once you finished, your entire body slugging back into the sheets below you. “I’ll be right back baby.”

Your eyelids felt heavy while you watched him get off his bed, making his way across the room while nude which gave you a shameless view of his body.

He returned momentarily with some bandaids, along with a glass of water. “Sit up for me darling,” he said as he sat down next to you, putting the glass of water into your hands once you were up right. You lazily drank from the cup as Heeseung applied the bandaids to the wounds on your neck. “It’s not too bad but better safe than sorry.”

It seemed the vampire’s entire demeanor had changed, his touches soft on your skin as he took your now empty cup and placed it elsewhere. He laid back next to you, pulling the covers over your bodies before pulling you closer to him. “How do you have so much energy?” You grumbled, looking up at the vampire to see his bright smile.

“I don’t get tired,” Heeseung’s hand carded through your hair and scratched your scalp as he started talking, making it very difficult to stay awake. He continued, “It’s that vampire stamina, I don’t need sleep or rest. I don’t eat food either, well besides blood but it doesn’t have to be human. I physically can sleep, I just don’t need it to function so it’s basically just a nap.”

“Does that mean you can go another round?” Your hand had been lazily tracing patterns onto the vampire’s cold skin, slowly moving down his torso. Your body was still sluggish from your two orgasms but seeing the devious glint in Heeseung’s eyes was lighting a flame to your body.

“I don’t think you can keep up with me baby” Heeseung roughly pulled the (H/C) strands on the back of your head, pulling you up to make direct eye contact with him. “But if you insist.”

His teeth grazed your bottom lip, the feeling of his fangs eliciting a high pitched whine from the back of your throat; you might’ve bitten off more than you could chew.

Authors Note: Hey it’s V sorry about deleting my old blog but I’ll bring back a majority of my old fics. If you enjoyed, thank you very much !!! These are v fun to make and help me take my mind off real life stuff lmao. That’s it for now, brb folks -V

#enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen x male reader #lee heeseung #lee heeseung x reader #lee heeseung x male reader

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spamgyu · 2 months

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urs // Mingyu Series - Part 2

"the best at being the worst... but fuck sake I'm already yours"

DESCRIPTION: she and mingyu were in no place to be in a relationship. she was his best friend's stylist and he was... well he was kim mingyu; something stable was not something that was ideal for the two – not when their careers are both at it's peak. PAIRING: idol!mingyu x stylist!reader GENRE: angst WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol, implied smut, stubborn protagonists, so many red flags you would think this is a football game, features the love of mingyu's life (jungkook) and all his other besties

NOTE: if you read INFRUNAMI, no you didn't. this has the same-ish vibes BUT this is the re-written version. many events, actions, and overall plot has been changed. (even if the intro/first part is very similar)

"Are you really not going to come with me?" Mingyu watched her move about her room.

He had shown up to her place unannounced – letting himself in, using the pin-code he had memorized by heart. This was one of many occasions he had put the four digits into good use; at times paying the apartment a visit even when she was not around.

It was the one location no one dared to bother him; mostly because those who were in on their arrangement knew that his presence at the place shouldn't even exist.

It was his new safe haven; a place where he can hide out when his schedules seemed to have more hours of him staying awake than it did of any shut eye.

Any time he felt a moment of pressure from the public eye or his company, he ran to the one place he that silenced the voices in his head – instantly bringing a sense of calm upon him.

Which has been rare to come these days.

Y/n didn't think he was actually being serious when he had invited her to spend the holiday with his family.

She rarely took what he said seriously, knowing that they were nothing but empty promises – being so busy and all. She knew she was last on his priority list and had always kept her expectations quite low for him.

Maybe it was her fear of disappointment.

"I don't know, dude." Y/n sighed, holding two jackets in front of her – mentally debating which would go best with her outfit. She may be spending the day alone but she still wanted to look well dressed. "I have a lot of things to prep for."

"The leather one." Mingyu nodded over to the jacket in her right hand. "Just do it after."

Setting the canvas outerwear in her left hand down, y/n slipped one arm after the other into the oversized jacket Mingyu had suggested – glancing at her reflection in her full body mirror.

He was right, leather did look best.

"I can't. Our flight leaves 5 am." She frowned. "I'll stop by when I'm done."

"Your mom will never let you hear the end of this, you know that right?"

Mingyu had only met her mother once, and it was purely by accident. While visiting last year, Y/n had taken her mom to the company building to show her around – wanting her mother to see where she spent most of her days if she wasn't hopping from one plane to another.

The three of them had managed to get on the same elevator that day; Y/n having no choice but introduce her mother to one of her so-called friends.

Which wasn't much of a lie... technically. They were friends...and a little more. But her mother didn't need to know that.

And of fucking course, Mingyu didn't take long to warm up to the older woman.

Two minutes to be exact.

All he had to do was flash his usual smile and use that tiny voice he used when he was around anyone that was older than him – her mom falling right into the trap that almost anyone had fallen into.

Including Y/n.

Mingyu completely disregarded his original plans of having lunch alone that day, choosing to sit with the two in the company's food hall – bonding with her mother about Y/n's need to always put her job over her personal interest.

In Y/n defense, her job didn't feel like a job. She thoroughly enjoyed what she did – the nearly seven figure salary was just cherry on top of the deal.

"Which is why she won't know." Y/n pointed before picking out a lip gloss from her collection. "It's not like she can check anyways."

Mingyu knew she was right, letting out a frustrated groan. "Come on, I already told my mom you were coming."

The smile on her face fell. "You're joking."

Just as Mingyu had only met her mother once, she had only met not only his mom but his whole family once. And just like Mingyu, she had managed to get along quite well with them – especially his mom.

The older woman was nothing but kind to Y/n despite crashing their rare-to-come family time during the holiday last year. The older woman couldn't help but happily dote on the girl upon learning that she was in the country all alone, all while her mother was back west.

Happy knowing that he was slowly swaying her decision, Mingyu's smile grew larger. "How about I help you do what you need to do so that we can head over together?"

Y/n pursed her lips, considering his offer. She did need some assistance with pressing a few garments and compiling her styling kit – and she did miss having a home cooked meal.

"Fine, but no funny business."

"Well," He let out a soft chuckle. "When you put it that way, now I kind of want to do some funny business."

"Work is work." Y/n reminded him.

They never took their ... business elsewhere. It was far too risky.

Especially at their company building.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

She hated how she could never resist him.

Somewhere in between steaming the rack full of designer pulls she had managed to secure for her talent's upcoming schedule, and their useless banter, Mingyu had managed to get his hands on her.

It started with a simple squeeze at the hip as she tried to ignore the lust full gaze that he had been sending her since their arrival – within minutes he had her pinned against the wall, his lips hungrily attacking her neck.

No matter how much she wanted to stand her ground, keeping to her word, Y/n had given in.

Like she always does.

"What happened to no funny business?" Y/n sighed as she tilted her head to give him more access.

"No one's laughing." Mingyu mumbled against her jaw, a free hand slowly creeping up her shirt while the other hooked on to the belt loops of her jeans – pulling her closer against his body.

"You're annoying."

She could feel her whole body begin to grow hot under his touch, arching her back off the wall as he moved from her neck to her lips – his tongue plunging into her mouth.

"Hey– whoa!"

The sound of the familiar voice broke the spell he had put her under – Y/n pushing off the boy that towered over her to see their friend standing at the door with a bewildered look on his face.

"At the office? Really?" Jungkook cried.

She had completely forgotten that she had asked him to swing by for one last fitting.

Closing her eyes, Y/n let out a loud groan; in both embarrassment and frustration.

They had never been caught once. They've always been careful – which was quite easy considering they were always in the privacy of their own bedrooms.

If it would have been any body else that had walked through the doors, she would have been sure she would have been fired in an instant. Despite having a bullet proof contract that left her almost invincible to any termination.

She was a well known industry stylist after all.

"We weren't doing anything." Mingyu shrugged, walking over to the leather couch – shrugging off the incident as if it was just any regular occurrence.

All while Y/n would rather have the ground swallow her whole.

"Sure, dude." Jungkook rolled his eyes. "Do I need to come back or....?"

"No, we're good." Mingyu answered for her, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

She wanted to strangle him.

Letting out a deep breath, Y/n grabbed the outfit she had set aside off the rack – handing it over to the boy who now had a quite amused look on his face.

He always did enjoy teasing the two; more Y/n than Mingyu, since he was always able to get a reaction from her.

His best friend on the other hand, he didn't seem to care. Dismissing his attempts to poke fun at the secret very few of their circle were in on.

"Say a word, and I'll leave pins in your clothes." She gritted her teeth.

Using his free hand to metaphorically zip his lips, Jungkook turned his heel and headed for the foldable partition set up at the corner of the room.

"I ran into Hana the other day." Mingyu announced – for his friend of course.

Hana.

His ex-girlfriend.

The girl that Y/n wasn't supposed to know about.

What Mingyu didn't know was that she knew all about the girl, all thanks to his blabber mouth of a friend who had spilled all there was to know about the two's past.

During one of their many days of being overseas, Jungkook and Y/n had landed on the topic of Mingyu – a time before he was made aware of his two friend's special kind of relationship.

Hana was his first love; and from what Y/n has learned... his only.

Hana was once a trainee at the company along with the thirteen boys – a girl that Mingyu had grown up with. They have had a long history, having known each other even before he became the idol he was today – she knew him better than anyone else.

As Jungkook claimed, "She'll always hold a piece of him."

"Of course you did," Jungkook snorted from behind the bamboo divider. "I'm ninety-nine percent sure those run ins aren't coincidental."

Y/n pretended to busy herself with packing the remaining items on the rack – all while her mind ran a million miles per hour.

She was curious but she knew it was also not her place.

And definitely not the right place and time to pry.

"Looks okay?" Jungkook stepped out, his arms stretched out as he spun for the girl.

She pulled her lips into a tight smile and nodded. "Does it feel okay?"

"I think you may need to hem the pants." He shook his leg. "Can I keep these after?"

"I mean, I don't think Diesel will say no to you." She chuckled, crouching down to examine the length of the jeans – making a mental note to bring her sewing kit.

"Can I keep the jacket?" Mingyu quipped, eyeing the leather moto-style leather outerwear was sporting.

There was no doubt that this item would soon be a well desired piece by everyone once it was made available for purchase – and free clothes were free clothes.

"Sorry, I work for him. Not you." Y/n shrugged. She knew there would be no issues if they kept the garments that the brand had generously loaned the artist – much like many other brands that scrambled to place their items on the biggest boy group of not only Korea, but the world.

"I'll give it you dude, don't worry." Jungkook gave his friend a knowing look, earning an eye-roll from the girl.

Aside from Hana, the only other person that held Mingyu's heart was Jungkook. The two having an irritable bromance that gave Y/n a headache anytime they ganged up one her.

Which occurred far more often than she liked.

"Okay go change." Y/n stood from her spot, lightly pushing him towards the partition.

"You guys got plans after this? My mom made enough food for half of Korea."

"We're heading to my parents."

"We?" Jungkook coughed, sticking his head out to glance at the two.

Y/n silently sent over a look, telling him to pipe down – thankfully Mingyu didn't catch on to this.

Because he was far too busy typing away on his phone.

"What the fuck?" Jungkook mouthed to her.

"Y/n was going to spend the whole day here." Mingyu locked his phone, looking up to see his friends silently communicating. "You two good?"

"Yeah, Kook is just being annoying."

Despite having the brains, Mingyu was quite oblivious when it came to her.

There were so many telling signs, so many bells and whistles that rang for everyone – and yet, he had no clue that the girl he had roped into having a friends with benefits deal with, had feelings for him.

Who could blame her?

Not only did he look like a reincarnated Greek God, fucked like one as well; but he had all the traits any girl would dream of in a man.

He had been raised quite well.

She had fallen for his stupid smile, the one that showed all of his teeth; infecting those around him.

His stupid laugh that were practically music to her ears whenever she heard it, making her want to crack jokes continuously just so she could hear more of it.

His stupid acts of service that just came so naturally, unable to help herself from becoming putty in his hands whenever he did anything to make her day that much easier – opening bottled water, adjusting her clothes whenever they were not sitting correctly on her frame, wiping away the crumb that stuck to her chin, placing a pillow where his body once laid before slipping into the darkness of the night.

The list could go on.

To Mingyu, these actions were nothing. These were things he would do to those close to him.

But to her, the girl who had accepted the barest of bare minimum from previous lovers, it was everything.

Y/n had fallen for a man she shouldn't have. Not only because of the rules they had set, the stupid fucking rules, but also because she knew he would never give her the time of day.

She had lost count the many times he had expressed to her that relationships was not anything he dreamt of; not now and definitely not anytime soon.

His group was finally reaching the success that they had worked so tirelessly for – the endless sleepless nights, the many injuries, the tears... they were finally paying off.

A relationship wasn't something he could afford, nor did he have energy for.

"I like this. It's low maintenance." He claimed.

Low maintenance.

No daily texts or calls, no checking up; they came and go in each other's lives like the wind – passing by when they pleased.

And for a good while, she was on the same page as him. She too couldn't afford a relationship – not when she was as busy, if not more, as the seven men she worked for.

They were both on two different planets, universes even, but they shared similar worries.

Similar struggles.

But as her schedule started to slow down, with each boy slowly stepping away from the limelight to fulfill their civic duties, nights had become lonely and she began to yearn for the one thing she had been pushing off for years.

"Ready to go?" He stepped in front of her, a soft smile on his lips.

All while she was deep in her thoughts, buzzing about the room in auto-pilot, all the task she had needed done were finally complete – Mingyu taking notice of this as he stayed out of her way, choosing to converse about God-knows-what with his best friend.

Blinking her thoughts away, she mirrored his expression. "Yep."

Mingyu handed her the jacket she had slipped off once they had arrived, reaching over to pull her ponytail from under the garment as she adjusted her top.

There he goes again with doting on her...

"Stay safe, guys." Jungkook snickered as he headed for the door.

"We're going to my parents!"

"That wasn't what I meant but– hey, that too." He winked before slipping out of the room.

Y/n knew she shouldn't have agreed.

She should have made up a stupid excuse.

But just like all other times, she had given in.

Unable to resist him.

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@thegirlwhoimagined @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @f4iryjjosh @akeminy @yonabutnotyuna @tacosandbitch @vanillacheol @aaniag @bettybotterboughtabitofbutter @xbaekcult @alwaysalmostthere @ashkuuuu @morkswatermelonnnn @isabellah29 @lottogyu @bubbly-moon @lllucere @bo-fairykim @pluviophile-xxx @daegutowns @jenoxygen @niktwazny303 @aahvii @fragmentof-indifference @leah-rose03 @haolistic @eclliipsed @joshuahongnumbers @gyuguys @yaaaridk @christinewithluv @yoonzinoooo @jaebammie @livelikejinki

(for some reason it's not allowing me to tag some who wanted to be added to the perm tag list ... cries... pls check ur settings so i can for future posts)

#the way it's been 10 million years since i updated #anyways...... aha hello #spamwrites #spamgyu urs #mingyu scenarios #mingyu x reader #seventeen fic #mingyu x oc #seventeen imagines #mingyu fic #mingyu angst #mingyu #kim mingyu #mingyu x y/n #mingyu series

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spacecowboyhotch · 4 months

Text

In Plain Sight, Ch 2: A Hoard of Cupids

summary: nathan’s much more insightful about you than he used to be. it’s making you uneasy…and curious.

pairing: nathan bateman x f!reader

contents: 18+/NSFW/MINORS DNI, enemies to lovers (sorta), boss/employee dynamics, pining, nathan trying to be nice but he’s so abrasive lol, pining, mentions of caretaking/sick family members, mentions of emotionally abusive parents, masturbation (m), sub!nathan if you squint

wc: 2,745

AN: back at it with part twoooo. thank you all for the kind words and support on this fic, i didn’t expect it to get the response it did but i’m really excited to give y’all the rest. fair warning that these chapters seem to be getting longer as i write on. happy reading!

in plain sight masterlist | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

Nathan gives you space— at first. When you return the next day at 7 a.m. sharp he’s nowhere to be found. Not in the living room or in the kitchen, not on his patio boxing. You assume he’s in his room, probably toying with one of his bots in a distasteful manner. The idea makes you shudder. But is it not easier to come to work with every task he could want you to do placed on his desk, no fuss?

You don’t like Nathan Bateman. He’s a pompous asshole, a know it all, a man who thinks only about his own desires. When he apologized— or rather attempted to— yesterday you thought that maybe you slipped and fallen down the stairs on your way out. By his standards, it was a top tier apology. You’d never once heard him apologize to anyone. On your drive home you had wondered if he had ever apologized in his life. The thought made you giggle, and then you’d turned up the music and forgotten about him until right now.

Sat at your desk, an ungodly stack of things to do. There’s a note sat on top. It’s simple and straightforward, lacking emotion but somehow still has your stomach flipping. It reads:

In meetings all day— let me know if you need anything. Go home early today.

Mr. Bateman

P.S. I’ll spruce up my apologizing skills.

You regard the note cautiously, raising your brow at it before you let yourself laugh a little. Was this a joke or had Nathan Bateman taken some criticism to heart (which is rumored to not exist). You fold the note up, and for some reason slip it into your bag.

The last thing that’s on your mind is that Nathan’s watching you. He sits in the dark at his monitors, leaning in closely. His eyes trace your figure on the screens intensely, watching as you read and read and read. He expects no reaction from you beside maybe throwing it in the trash. But then you laugh, and he watches you store it for safekeeping. A piece of him will go home with you. Nathan never thought he’d be jealous of a piece of paper, not when he seems to have the entire world at his fingertips.

—

He returns to his normal behavior after a week— partially because he thinks you settled in. And partially because…well he begrudgingly can admit to himself, in the comfort of his own mind, that he misses you. When you get to work the next Monday he’s sat on an observation table, examining what looks like a deconstructed robot brain.

You aren’t even able to open your mouth and say good morning before he’s talking to you.

“Are you sleeping okay?” He asks, his eyes appraising you intensely.

You stop in your tracks, regarding him as always, your expression pieced into that calm expression. So you’re back to normal, none of that fire. He expected it but that doesn’t keep him from feeling disappointed.

“Sir?”

“You look really fucking tired. Exhausted,” He tacts on for good measure.

Your spine goes completely rigid, your grip on your bag tightening. You are tired. So very tired. You work shitty hours for incredible money and then go home to take care of your younger sisters and mother. Dealing with Nathan is for them. For your sisters’ schooling, so they won’t feel left out when the other kids have the newest gadget or shoes. For your mother’s ever piling medical bills. It’s important that you don’t jeopardize something so precious.

“Is it affecting my work? Have I done something wrong?” You ask him softly.

“No— that’s not why I’m—“ He stutters before closing his mouth and starting anew. You’ve never seen him like this. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was flustered. But knowing Nathan, he’s just never asked a single employee he’s ever had if they’re alright. “I’m your boss, I worry about your well being. That’s what good bosses do.”

“Are you sure?” You ask evenly, eyes still trained on him.

“Am I—“ He stops, eyes wide for a fraction of a second before he bites away his smile. “Are you fucking with me?”

If he was looking at you so intentionally he would miss the way your mouth twitches. “I’m fine, Mr. Bateman. I have a lot of responsibilities, not only here but out there as well.”

“Out there?”

“The real world. Thank you for the concern, sir.”

For the second time, you’ve rendered Nathan speechless. That night he lays in bed thinking of you, like many nights prior. He turns your words over in his head time and time again. The real world. Do you think he doesn’t know what it’s like out there? He wonders how much research you’d done for the job. Nathan used his brain to get here, climbing and climbing. He hadn’t been born into this but his personality lent itself to such a conclusion. Nathan knows what his real world used to look like, though one day he hopes that any of his contraptions can help him forget. He wonders what your real world looks like.

There’s no ring on your finger, but you could have a partner. Kids? Another job? He pays you well enough for that to not be necessary. Maybe you volunteer at a puppy shelter. He could picture it. You in something other than your stuffy work clothes, a smile on your face as you drown in puppy breath and slobber.

He groans, rolling over in bed to plant his face deeply in the pillow. Maybe he can smother himself out of this. Thinking about puppies? He might as well be one, he’s practically lovesick if you have him thinking like this. When would he get used to feeling this way? His usual cynical thoughts feel like they’re being pillaged by a hoard of cupids.

He doesn’t even know if you feel the same. Being better for you is one thing, but what if there’s no payoff? What if he changes for you and you leave him high and dry? Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. He feels the back of his neck sweating and sits up.

Nathan’s been down this road before, it’s brought him his fortune and an insane work ethic. It’s all brought him sorrow he’ll never be able to escape. Being with his parents feels like a fever dream sometimes and other times he feels 6 again, like he’s drowning in their expectations and insults, trying to measure up. He’d given up eventually, once he realized that they would never love him the way parents should. Why try to do anything anyone wanted but himself when they could still treat him poorly for it?

He’s the way he is from his own indoctrination. He doesn’t know where he would be if he hadn’t convinced himself that he was the only person that truly matters.

But, now there’s you. You, who looks so soft, you that scratches an itch he didn’t even realize he had. You, that he wants to goad and prod and poke until you unleash all of yourself on him. He closes his eyes and lays back, envisioning you right here with him. He feels insane, his heart— his mind, his dick— are taking him through a whirlwind of emotions right now.

He palms himself through his boxers, eyes squeezing shut tighter than before as he tries to narrate. He pictures you in one of his white shirts, it’s fabric nearly see-through with the way it clings to your breasts. He grasps his length through his boxers letting out a heaving sigh. Fuck he wishes this was you.

If there’s anything that Nathan knows how to do its not only being smartest but the most imaginative. He’s been daydreaming for as long as he can remember. Universes with better outcomes— having worth, or loving parents or anyone for that matter. Anyone to be on his side. He imagined codes and synthetic body parts that live and breathe in front of him. He can surely imagine you, breathy and horny in his bed, jerking him off. He doesn’t care if it’s fucked up, or inappropriate. He wants you, and maybe this is the only way he can have you. He slides his boxers down, finally done teasing himself. Licking his palm, he grabs his cock, starts stroking and succumbs to the thought of you.

Another moan bubbles out of his throat. He can see your nipples through his shirt when you straddle him like this. Your thighs are soft against his own and he would reach for your free hand, thread his fingers through your own. Your hands are smaller than his, smooth and supple. And god, you’re stroking him just the way he likes it, the soft wet sound making pleasure shoot through his groin.

You’d overstimulate him wouldn’t you? With that clever mouth barely pulling up a grin, eyes full of fire as you stroke him past the point of pleasure. Would you make him watch? See the way your hands would grow slick and shiny with his cum as you kept pumping and pumping, pushing him to another release. Covering you both in him, until you’re too needy to keep toying with him. Nathan cums just as he’s imagining the feeling of you dragging your bare pussy against his sensitive cock. He whines and keens off the bed, the high singing in his veins. He swears he can almost imagine the way you would moan.

His eyes open, the spell broken. He’s alone, covered in his own spend, chest heaving like he just ran a 10k. He avoids his reflection when he walks into the bathroom to clean up. His loneliness spikes again and he heads to the kitchen, reaching for the first bottle he can find.

—

“You’re late,” He says stiffly, crossing his arms as he watches you cross the space to sit at your desk.

The day after he’d gotten off thinking of you he’d had the slightest difficulty looking at you. It quickly faded, he was too greedy. Too needy, if he’s being honest. He can’t get enough, he doesn’t know if he could ever say it but you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

You’re openly frazzled; your shirt isn’t tucked in, your hair is a little more frizzy than usual and you look as tired as ever. He regrets his biting tone immediately.

Even as you explain you’re moving, setting your to-go mug on the desk, fetching your calendar, booting up your computer. “I know, I’m sorry, Mr. Bateman. My sisters were less than cooperative this morning.”

Nathan turns completely away from the bins he’s been searching through, raising a brow at you in surprise, “Your sisters?”

“Yes— one is 7 the other is 14. The little made getting out of the house…difficult,” You murmur distractedly, eyes trained on your screen.

“Isn’t that your parents’ fucking job?”

His question snaps you back to the present— you hadn’t shared nearly as much as you could’ve. But you’d gone into this job wanting to be nameless and faceless. Memorable only for the quality of the work you do.

You shake your head, daring a quick glance in his direction that you immediately regret when your eyes meet his.“I realized that I’ve shared far too much about my personal life. I should work, Mr. Bateman.”

Nathan immediately understands your deflecting. How many times has he been asked by reporters and interviewers where his family is? Enough times that he’s had his publicist strike the topic from the acceptable lists. That was about all he was good for anyway, Nathan says what he wants when he wants.

He goes back to the task at hand— though now with you here he doesn’t quite remember what that was. A part…some sort of part that he needed. Wires? Screws? A metal plate? He sighs in frustration and leaves without another word.

Your gaze is on the door as soon as it shuts, making sure he’s gone. The tears that you’ve been biting back fall and you bury your face in your hands. Your youngest sister had begged and pleaded for you to stay warm in bed with her this morning. With your mother so sick, you’ve practically raised her yourself these last few years. It makes her needy, which you understand. But what she doesn’t understand is how delicate the balance you found in caring for your entire family is. Middle sister lacks just as much understanding, with heaps of attitude. She doesn’t want to snuggle with you or with younger sister. Mediating this entire situation is what made you late.

It feels like you’re cracking under the pressure but that isn’t an option, is it? As if the universe wants to make it clear, your computer chimes. It’s Nathan, asking you to come to his office.

—

He’d meant to go clear his head in his office and come back to get whatever part he was in need of. But, when he sat in his chair he was met with the sight of you hunched over your desk, presumably crying by the way your shoulders jerked every once and a while.

He’s pinging you before he can think better of it. He watches you read his message. You’re such an anomaly— you sit up immediately, reaching for some tissues and cleaning yourself up as if nothing happened. You even check yourself in the reflection of your computer, fidgeting with your hair, tucking in your shirt once you stand. As soon as you start out of the office he turns off his monitors, not one to be caught snooping around though it’s right and was clear in the contract. Maybe you’ve forgotten. Perhaps you don’t think your anything worth watching…Nathan would like to change that assumption.

“You pinged me, sir?”

How would he play this? He couldn’t admit that he just watched you cry.

“Trying my hand at this apologizing shit again. I— Nathan Bateman— am sorry for being insensitive. Like I said last time, I don’t know your life or you. Alright, how was that?”

“I would say a solid, 5/10, which is a 50% improvement.”

“Fuck me, you’re a tough crowd. What am I docked for? You know I’m all about perfection.”

“There was a lack of originality. And you omitted your middle name.”

It takes everything in Nathan not to giggle. The way the words come out of your mouth are so funny… or maybe he’s just obsessed. It could be both. “My middle name is classified information.”

“Does Wikipedia know that?” You ask, tilting your head in that uncanny way.

Nathan can’t hold in his laugh this time, running a hand over his beard, “You’re funnier than you look.”

Your mouth twitches, and you give him the smallest nod, “Thank you, sir. Is that all?”

He pretends to think about it. “This apology is feeling pretty one-sided to me.”

“I accept your apology, Mr. Bateman, thank you.”

“Accept something else,” He proposes, going out on a limb. Suddenly your stare is too intense, the room is too hot and small. What the fuck is he doing?

“What’s that?” You ask, as soft and sweet as ever.

“Dinner. Tomorrow,” He says simply.

“With you?”

Nathan ignores the twinge in his heart— your tone barely changed. If he wasn’t with you every single day, studying you, he wouldn’t even have noticed.

“I can invite the droids if you want. They’ll just stare at us while we eat.”

Your hand tightens around your planner. Dinner with Nathan…choosing to be around him? It seemed like as of late he was trying to be…more palatable. This could be an act of good faith. But, you have your sisters and mother to think about. You’ve given her nurse enough overtime hours in the last few weeks.

“Without getting too personal, I don’t think I’ll be able to swing it sir, I have to get home to my sisters as soon as possible.”

Yes, your family, that you never talk about. He could accommodate, what’s he the fucking boss for if he can’t?

“We’ll do it early.”

You sway a little as you think about this— that’s new, he thinks to himself, filing that information away for later.

“You’ve already got me apologizing, I can’t add saying please to the list of acceptable behaviors. I’ll lose my fucking edge.”

“How early?”

“3:30.”

“Alright, then, sir.”

nathan taglist: @missdictatorme, @hon3yboy, @runa-falls, @campingwiththecharmings, @toracainz, @steven-grants-world, @clemdango04, @jdbxws, @crispysublimecupcake, @sub-aro, @faretheeoscar, @cupidysm, @whentheskyispinkandabitblue , @nova-ivy541, @sparkypantelones, @veritable-trash, @mangoslushcrush, @kotaropuppy

#nathan bateman x reader #nathan bateman x f!reader #nathan bateman x fem!reader #nathan bateman #nathan bateman fanfiction #ex machina fanfiction #in plain sight #arson writes #not sfw

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