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#the pandemic probably didn’t help but
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You have to admit that there’s a problem with one manufacturer having all this power. Its nice for you to ignore but the sport will die because of this.
lmaooo the sport is dying this is not news ? what do you think all these weird new sprint races and weekend changes are about. motogp couldn’t pay a manufacturer to join at this point bc it’s not financially beneficial at all to any manufacturer not to mention who would replace them ? ktm ? yamaha ? bikes that riders from their teams have complained about all season.
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fingertipsmp3 · 1 year
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Don’t really want to go to work tomorrow but like. Who does
#nothing is really wrong; i’m just not feeling it#but i can’t call in because there’s no way they’ll find anyone to cover#if they could find someone to cover for me they would’ve found someone to cover for my friend who had to cancel her shift#but they didn’t find anyone to cover for her. the best they could do was bring in the assistant manager for 3 hours in the morning#to help open & cover the lunch shift#so it’s literally going to be me; the assistant manager (only until 1pm) and this guy who i basically don’t know. that’s IT#and it’ll be busy because it’s a saturday. that’s.. 2 people on the counter for the majority of the day#and it’s not like we can just stay there the whole time. we’re responsible for bins and tables and restocking shelves and checking the temps#on literally a dozen fridges and freezers. so like.#it is kind of going to be a shitshow from 1pm until closing#tbh though it will kind of be a good thing if it’s busy because then the awkward silences won’t have time to set in#i’m not good at making conversation at the best of times and this guy (from what i’ve seen of him. and i’ve met him once and haven’t worked#with him yet) seems okay but i don’t think we will have ANYTHING in common#he’s 19. he likes planes. he doesn’t know what he wants to do with his life. that’s….. okay i can relate to that last point#but OH to be 19 again. i’d fuck it up in so many new ways#but seriously.. idk if i was ever a good conversationalist (probably not) but definitely during the pandemic i have completely forgotten#all my social skills and how to converse with people and how to get to know a new person#and i don’t know what the line is between asking someone about themself and straight up bothering them. like what is the vibe#can i ask him why he likes planes or does that sound like i’m belittling his hobby. or am i overthinking that#could ask him how he got into planes? or what is his favourite plane? the only thing is i know jack squat about planes and i don’t even#think i can convincingly fake being interested in them. so what do i do#and THEN if he asks me about my hobbies i don’t even really want to talk about my hobbies that much#because one of them is writing (mostly gay smut); one of them is reading (sometimes gay smut but i do read a variety of genres but lately it#has mostly been gay smut); and the third is knitting. which to someone who is not interested in crafts of any sort is just about as boring#as planes are to me. so.#i’m trying to go in with the attitude of keeping an open mind because literally who knows!! maybe he.. idk. knits models of planes#but i really think i’m going to spend 6 hours tomorrow awkwardly smiling at a 19 year old lad and hoping someone orders coffee#or one of us is temporarily taken out by a piece of falling debris. idk#personal
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ale-wosofan · 3 months
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broken
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Alexia x R
R is struggling but she’s not sure why or how to fix it. Will she finally be honest with her girlfriend about how she’s feeling?
warnings: little bit of angst (+fluff), implied adhd
a/n: English is not my first language (I’m aware how much of a cliché that is) so there might be some mistakes; feel free to correct them :) Here I talk about my personal experience with adhd, please don’t use this to self-diagnose, as it is not the same for everyone. Enjoy!
-----
The first time you feel that there’s something wrong with you, you’re at home with your girlfriend.
“Hey, princesa. Have you seen that there’s a new season of that TV show you like?” Alexia asks you once you’ve sat down on the sofa.
“Oh, I didn’t know,” you shrug settling on top of your girlfriend and kissing her cheek.
Alexia looks a little surprised at your answer but starts running her hands up and down your back nonetheless.
“How come? I thought you said it was, and I’m quoting you, the best show you’ve ever seen.”
But you don’t answer. You don’t really know what happened, you’re just not that passionate about that particular show anymore. You had been interested for a few months; had watched all the interviews, bloopers, deleted scenes, but now you just didn’t like it as much anymore. You’ve had a few intense months thinking and talking about the show almost every minute of every day so you probably just need time away from it now that all that initial intensity has worn off.
You don’t realise how much time you’ve been quiet until Alexia speaks again.
“Amor?” you hum in acknowledgement urging her to continue “are you okay?”
“Yeah, just got a little distracted,” you answer shuffling around a little bit trying to get comfortable.
After a couple of minutes moving around you can’t seem to settle. You sigh and sit up feeling Alexia’s eyes on you the entire time.
“So, have you finished the work you had to do?” your girlfriend asks while putting her feet on your lap.
“No, not yet. But I really needed a break.”
Alexia looks up at you surprised.
“¿De verdad? I thought it was supposed to be something easy. You’ve been working for almost two hours.”
You frown. There’s no way it’s been two hours, right? That can’t be possible. But when you look at your watch you realise that it really has been two hours. You have spent all that time in your office and haven’t been able to finish a relatively simple task.
“Today is not my day, I guess,” you say rubbing your hands on your face with frustration “I’m a little distracted today, I can’t seem to concentrate on anything.”
But it wasn’t just today, and you knew that. It was something that had been going on for a while. You couldn’t exactly pinpoint when it had started to happen, but it got bad after the quarantine. You were on your second year of college when the pandemic occurred. You spent a few months studying online, a few months that felt like a bliss to you despite everything that was happening in the world. But you had to come back to class eventually. And it was fine; until it wasn’t. Every time you tried to pay attention to class you got distracted and couldn’t focus on what the teachers were saying for more than a few minutes at a time. When you had projects to do you couldn’t bring yourself to work on them and waited until the last day to get them done. Studying suddenly became a torture since you couldn’t concentrate for long. What once used to take you ten minutes, now it took an hour.
And the thing is you still don’t understand why. You don’t know what’s wrong with you now that wasn’t before. It hadn’t really bothered you before, you’d been able to deal with it for some time. But now it feels like it just keeps getting worse with each passing day. Deep down you know you need help, and you know you should talk to someone about this, but you don’t feel ready to. Not yet.
“How about you keep working on it tomorrow? And we can relax for the rest of the say. We can have a nice bath and then order some food. How does that sound?”
You smile at your girlfriend. How did you ever get so lucky?
“Yeah, I’d really like that.”
-----
The second time you feel that there’s something wrong with you, Alexia had just come home from training.
When you hear the door front open and your girlfriend call out for you, you’re lying on your bed scrolling through social media.
You get up and go say hello to her.
“Hi, baby,” you greet her opening your arms for a hug.
“Hola, mi amor.”
She takes a step back from your embrace, places her hands on your cheeks and kisses you passionately. And just as quickly as it had started she was pulling away.
“Hi,” you repeat feeling yourself blush.
“Hi,” your girlfriend answers kissing your forehead “I’m going to take a shower.”
You blink slowly taking a few seconds to get yourself together, being quickly interrupted by Alexia calling your name from the bedroom.
You make your way there but stop in your tracks in the door frame when you realise why your girlfriend had called for you.
“Princesa, what happened here?”
You give her a smile that you’re pretty sure turns out looking more like a grimace.
“Okay so, I wanted to rearrange some of the books-”
“Again?”
“-but then I wasn’t sure if I wanted to organize them by colour or by genre, so I decided to watch a video to decide. But then I got distracted by another video and kind of forgot what I was doing in the first place, so I just laid down and waited for you to come home,” you answer honestly giving your girlfriend a sheepish smile.
Alexia looks at you in deep thought.
“Okay, how about this? I take a shower and get into some comfortable clothes and once I’m done I’ll help you with all this.”
You sometimes wonder how someone so perfect like the woman in front of you exists.
“Or, we could shower together and then work on the bookshelf together as well,” you suggest smirking.
Your girlfriends lets out a chuckle and kisses your cheek.
“Nice try, but if we do that we might never be able to come out of the shower.”
Once your girlfriend is out of sight you take a look at all the books splattered around the room. The state of the place is certainly overwhelming and it just stresses you out more. Where are you supposed to start?
You sigh and sit down on the bed.
You should’ve finished this before Alexia got here. You’d had more than enough time to do it, so why couldn’t you just focus on your task like everyone else instead of getting distracted with everything? Now your girlfriend had to help you out instead of resting after the long day she probably had.
You rub your hands on your face in frustration. It really isn’t supposed to be that hard right?
“Yeah, I’m just a little lazy sometimes,” you whisper to no one in particular before getting up.
-----
The third time you feel that there’s something wrong with you, you’ve just gotten to your house from work.
When you arrive home you’re exhausted.
Stepping into the house the first thing you notice is the Spanish music playing in the background and the smell of your favourite meal being cooked.
Walking into the kitchen you are welcomed by the sight of your girlfriend wearing one of your old shirts dancing and cooking.
“Hi, love.”
She turns around at the sound of your voice and looks at you with a lovesick smile.
“Hola, princesa,” she quickly answers opening her arms for you to hug her, which you happily do “How was your day?”
You step out of her embrace and give her a kiss before making a face.
“It could’ve been better,” you tell her honestly.
You sit in one of the stools while your girlfriend resumes her cooking duties keeping an eye on you the whole time.
“¿Por qué? Did anything happen?”
“No, nothing in particular,” you pause, deciding whether or not to continue “Although there’s a new project I’ve been working on, which is obviously really exciting, but I’ve spent all morning busy with it; emailing people, setting the different dates for it, planning meetings and all that.”
Alexia completely turns around to look at you and nods urging you to keep talking.
“I just-” you sigh frustrated “I suddenly got hungry, right? And I looked at the time and realised that it was already pretty late and I hadn’t eaten lunch yet, so I went to grab a sandwich to the shop nearby. Then, on the way back I went past that bookstore I really like so I decided to have a look around for a bit to relax, and I ended up buying that book I told you came out yesterday.”
Your girlfriend’s frown deepens.
“Isn’t that a sequel to a book you haven’t read yet?”
“Yes,” you whisper a little embarrassed “I know it was a stupid decision, but I really wanted to buy it in that moment. Then I just felt bad because I had spent money on something I don’t even know if I’ll like.”
You feel yourself blush at the admission and hide your face in your hands.
“Hey,” you hear your girlfriend quietly say in your ear while she wraps her arms around your waist “There’s really no need to be embarrassed, ¿vale? You bought something you wanted after having a fairly stressful day at work. I promise you it’s not the end of the world, mi amor.”
With each word she says you begin to slowly relax in her arms.
You turn around and take her face in your hands.
“How do you always know what to say?”
“Because I love you and I know you better than I know myself,” she answers placing a kiss in your nose “Now you’re going to take a shower, we’re going to have dinner and then we’re gonna cuddle while watching a film. Tomorrow will be a better day, princesa, I promise.”
You nod although you don’t fully believe it.
-----
When you finally lay down to watch TV with your girlfriend you can’t seem to settle. Your mind is working really fast and you’re starting to get a little bit restless.
You haven’t really thought about it until now, but what if there is something actually wrong with you? What if it isn’t just a bad day? What if all the sleepless nights, the impulsivity, the difficulty staying focused for too long and the racing thoughts are all somehow connected? There’s no way, you or someone around you would’ve realised sooner. Right?
You feel Alexia’s eyes on you when you stop the show you’re watching.
You try not to think about it too much and begin to speak.
“Do you think there’s something wrong with me?”
“What do you mean?” she asks confused.
“Never mind. Just ignore what I’ve said,” you answer shaking your head and laying down on top of your girlfriend again.
“Hey, no. None of that,” Alexia sits up with you in her lap and takes your face on her hands “What’s going on? Talk to me, please,” she begs worried.
Looking at her you realise that this is your partner, the person you’re building your future with. You are aware this is a tough thing to talk to her about but there’s no one you trust more in this world. She is your home.
“I've been feeling really overwhelmed lately, like my mind is always racing and I can't seem to focus on anything for long. I mean, it actually started a while ago, but it’s just been getting worse. I’m not sure how to explain it,” you confess.
Your girlfriend takes both of your hands and smiles encouragingly at you.
“Try. I’m listening and whatever it is I’m here for you, okay? Always, te lo prometo.”
“Okay, so, have you notice how I always seem to jump from one thing to another without actually finishing anything? I've tried making to-do lists and setting reminders, but nothing seems to work. And that’s just one of the things, you know? But it’s also not being able to sit still for more than five minutes and acting always so impulsive. And it's starting to affect everything I do. I just-” you take a deep breath “I’m always so frustrated. I just want to be able to be like everyone else, but it's like my brain is wired differently.”
“How long has this been going on?” Alexia asks concerned.
“I don’t know. A few months, I think.”
Your girlfriend lets go of your hands and holds your face instead making you look into her eyes.
“Mi amor, listen to me. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with you. Yes, your brain may work a little bit different but that doesn’t mean you’re stupid or broken, ¿vale? It's okay to feel overwhelmed, and it's good that you're talking about it. But I really need you to understand that. What do you want to do now?”
“I’m not sure, I wasn’t even planning on telling you to be honest,” you admit feeling yourself blushing.
“Maybe it could be helpful to talk to a professional about all of this?” Alexia suggest “Whatever you feel comfortable doing.”
You shrug and hide your face on her neck.
“Yeah, I guess. You promise me you’re not going anywhere?”
Your girlfriend kisses your forehead before answering.
“I'm here for you no matter what, we will figure this out. Thank you for sharing this with me, princesa.”
“Thank you for listening to me,” you whisper just for the two of you “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
-----
Maybe I'll write a sequel to this but I'm not really sure. Let me know what you think! <3
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cordeliawhohung · 9 months
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Blood Soaked Cotton
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Simon Ghost Riley x fem!Reader - part 1 of "soft spot"
Simon Riley finds himself oddly attached to the kind woman who works at the bank he frequents. He tells himself it’s just a friendly connection and nothing more. But the day he walks in and sees the marks, he realizes just how much of a soft spot he’s developed for her.
Warnings: Language, mentions of Ghost's past (trauma, brief mention/descriptions of SA, abuse), implied domestic violence (not graphically described), unwanted grabbing (not groping), alcohol, descriptions of minor wounds and bruises, soft/grumpy Ghost, reader is a bank teller, hurt/comfort, caring for wounds,
wc: 6k
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It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Really, it wasn’t supposed to happen at all. But things never exactly work out how we think they will, and Simon Riley wasn’t a stranger to surprises. 
You had seen his face plenty of times before, though not in the way someone would expect. The low resolution picture on his ID was all you had seen of him, and he was very content in keeping it that way. Because of this, he made sure he always got into your line at the bank, as he didn’t really fancy showing his ID to every other teller there. 
Besides not wanting to pass a literal picture of his face around, he might have had something of a soft spot for you. Or, at least as much of a soft spot as a man like him could muster for someone. The very first day he showed up at the bank, he knew almost every single teller there thought he was trying to rob the place. It wasn’t like he could blame them. His towering height and his partialness towards facemasks didn’t exactly make him the most inviting. But even with the normalization of masks after the pandemic, more often than not he was looked at with fear. 
So when the first teller he went up to demanded that he take his mask off for ‘identification purposes,’ he was a little more than peeved. Every other bank he had gone to pretty much tossed his cash towards him without so much as a second glance. That’s what he got for moving into the big city, he supposed. 
But then you stepped in. Told your co-worker that it was fine, that you would help him with his withdrawal, without the need of showing his face. She gave a little huff, and he knew you were probably breaking a million rules by doing that for him, but either way, he was thankful for it. 
So there he was, once again, in your line at the bank. Simon wasn’t one to particularly enjoy using the more advanced forms of currency exchange. Debit cards were fine, but not his favorite, and he wouldn’t be caught dead using PayPal or any type of phone transfers. Cash was comfortable, familiar, and more reliable in his eyes. And tellers were more trustworthy than ATMs, despite the fact that they were still people. 
“Hey there,” you greeted him with a kind smile. 
With just about everyone else, if you knew it, you greeted them by their name. Especially if they were the old regulars you saw several times a week. But not with Simon. It wasn’t for the lack of knowing it, surely, as his name was obviously tied to the account, and he showed up just as often as the old geezers who were just as untrusting as he was. You didn’t seem scared to use his name, or really scared of him at all. Either way, it was just another small detail he appreciated. 
“Hey,” he responded, feeling awkward speaking but knowing you deserved more than just an empty stare. 
He tossed his items onto the counter in front of you, where they clattered against the glass covered wood with tiny tinks. You took the items in your hands, hardly glancing over his ID before sliding it back to him, face down on the counter. 
“The usual?” you questioned, typing away at your system. You sounded more like a waitress taking his order than a teller. 
“Yeah.” 
It was the same amount of cash out every week. Enough to spend throughout the week, which wasn’t much, and enough to save up throughout the month for things such as rent. Not that you knew that, of course. You never asked him any questions that weren’t absolutely necessary. You were straight and to the point, doing your work with a kind smile that he didn’t think he deserved.
He always felt like such a stain in places like that; around people like you. The people with bright smiles, wearing neat and clean clothes with a perfect nine to five. Those four walls glistened with power and wealth, something that he never really wanted to come close to. Even though being nice to him was quite literally your job, he knew deep down he didn’t belong there. 
If it wasn’t for you, he probably would have switched banks long ago. 
“There you go!” you said, your voice chipper as you held the envelope for him. 
Large hands threatened to engulf yours as he reached for the money, yet his hands never did so much as graze your skin. He didn’t bother counting the cash before shoving it into the pocket of his jacket. It had been months since he had been with that bank, and you hadn’t ever miscounted before; he trusted you with that much, at least. 
“Thanks.” It was short, gruff, and to the point. There wasn’t much time he was willing to waste on pleasantries. Not even to the bank teller who knew his face. 
“Have a good one!” 
Have a good one. It was always the same farewell you gave him. Of course the factitious answer that came to mind was ‘have a good one what?’ but he knew better than to be a smart ass. But really, the question truly was a valid one in his mind. Have a good what? Day? Afternoon? Life?
He was too far gone for that. 
After that day, he didn’t see you for a few weeks. He was off doing what he did best; being a soldier. At times, it felt like it was all he knew how to do. Run. Shoot. Kill. Stab. Wash the blood from his uniform and repeat it all the next day if he even lived long enough to see it. 
But he always did, even when he knew he shouldn’t have. Which meant he always returned back home to that small studio apartment. Some nights it felt all too cramped. Those grimey walls forever oozing nicotine from every single pore because of some asshole who couldn’t be arsed to open a damn window when they smoked. The wood floor that was scratched to all hell. That ugly nightstand he bought off of some old man at a yard sale for five quid. Everything, every detail, every crack in that damn apartment was just one more thing threatening to suffocate him, but he didn’t have the time or energy to let that get the better of him. 
He had to go to the bank tomorrow. 
Goddamn.
When he next returned to the bank, something was off. There was no sign of your usual chipper voice that you greeted your patrons with, and your voice had been replaced with something more hoarse. At first he thought you were maybe just sick, but once he was the next one in line, he realized he couldn’t have been more wrong. 
Your clothes always looked nice. A simple blouse, maybe a nice blazer to go over it if the weather wasn’t too warm. Bank tellers always had a way of looking professional and put together, so it was rather jarring when he saw the state of your face. Not that you were particularly mangled or anything, but the split lip was glaringly obvious. 
It tore the delicate skin of your bottom lip vertically, nearing the corner of your mouth. Dark, crunchy scabs clogged the wound up, and he could tell by the way your tongue kept prodding at it that it smarted something fierce. But it didn’t stop there. A slight bruise on the back part of your cheekbone, an even deeper bruise peeking out from underneath your blouse on your collarbone, a broken nail that chipped off uncomfortably close to your nail bed. 
“Simon?” 
Your voice pulled him out of his head as his eyes stopped wandering over your body and landed back on your face. He tried his best to keep his gaze from wandering to your busted lip, but it was difficult when your tongue kept swiping over it. It was so distracting he almost didn’t register that you used his first name. 
“The usual?” you asked. 
Your smile was lopsided, your swollen lip making it impossible to do it properly. And god, hearing that crackling tone in your voice was almost more off putting than the wounds. As if even just hearing the cheerfulness in your voice would make your state seem less serious. 
“What happened?” he questioned, his hands digging into his pockets to pull out the needed documents. 
A sour chuckle left you as you threw your gaze down at the counter. “Suppose that’s the question of the day, isn’t it?” 
When you looked back up at him, his gaze was stony and unrelenting, as if he wasn’t going to let you sidestep it. You sighed as you looked at his hands. He had everything ready to go, yet he held it close to his chest, as if he wasn’t going to relinquish it until you answered him. 
“Got a little drunk last weekend at the pub. Might have biffed it on the curb walking home,” you explained with a half-assed chuckle. 
It was more than that. Simon knew those wounds all too well, and though he usually saw it on himself and other soldiers, there were rare cases he saw them on others. On civilians. And he knew better than anyone else that wounds like that were caused by more than just pavement. 
But he wasn’t about to accost you at work over it, and so he set his items on the counter in front of you, gently sliding them closer to you. Those dark eyes of his didn’t leave you once. You had become a specimen. This interesting creature he suddenly found himself fascinated with. 
He hummed in response to you as your fingers gingerly grabbed his items and you did your usual routine of retrieving his money. The bright pink Hello Kitty band-aid around your finger made you type slower than you normally did, and he couldn’t help but glance back at your lip as your teeth poked out to bite at it. It was never going to heal properly if you kept doing that, but he kept quiet. 
In no time his cash was in front of him, in that simple envelope that you held out in your hands. Despite the obvious pain you were in, you still smiled at him, lopsided and all. For a moment he stared at you, eyes glancing over your wounds, the abrasions you tried to hide. But only for a moment before he took the envelope and shoved it into his pocket like normal. 
Simon started to turn, ready to go about his normal boring civilian-like life. But before he could fully face away from you, a pit formed in his stomach. Something else was off. Maybe not off, but something was missing. Every part of him was screaming out, screaming for him to find it and put it back, and he found his eyes wandering over to you again. 
You hadn’t said goodbye.
That’s when he noticed the blood dribbling down your chin. Whatever crusting scab that had formed on your split lip had cracked, sending a steady flow of blood from your mouth. Your fingers came up to touch the sudden wetness on your face, and he noticed how your eyebrows drew together and your jaw set tight as you blankly stared at the counter, blood trickling down your hand. 
He should have turned. Should have walked away and left you to your own devices. You were a grown woman. You could take care of yourself. Just as soon as that thought had formed in his head, his hands were already reaching into his back pocket where he pulled out a handkerchief. The cloth sat between his fore and middle fingers, where his hand stiffly extended it out for you to take. 
“Here.” 
It used to be white, but had been stained by various things over the years he had it, and it even sported some fraying on the edges. It was clean, at least. Because of this, he was extremely surprised to hear your response to him. 
“I’ll ruin it.” 
Whatever lively tone you normally held had vanished. Distant eyes, a swollen lip, and a voice that seemed utterly broken. In the time it had taken for him to travel halfway across the world and commit acts that kept him up at night, you had changed. Changed in a way that left a sour taste on his tongue. 
“Just take it,” he pressed, the cloth still hanging limply between his fingers. 
You begrudgingly took it from him and promptly placed it against your face. Oxygenated blood stained the off-white cloth with a bright red. Every single fiber of it soaked up the liquid as if it was the soil drinking up water. 
“Thank you,” you said, the words almost failing to leave your lips. 
He paused for a moment. It should have been him saying those words. You gave him his money. All he did was give you a shitty handkerchief. 
“Have a good one,” he said before fully turning around and making his way towards the exit. 
He could practically hear the smile in your voice as you responded. “I’m trying.” 
Once he got home, he tried to forget about it. There was no time or energy in his busy life for him to be worrying about you and your… situation. If he tried to care for every kicked puppy he found he wouldn’t even have the space to breathe. 
But that night when Simon was sharpening his knives, trying to keep his hands and mind busy, he cut his finger. Nothing bad, hardly anything to wince at, but still bleeding enough for it to be a hassle. He reached his hand into his back pocket, only to find nothing. 
“Fucking hell.” 
This is why he hated soft spots. All they did was muddle things up. But what he hated more than that was how he kept trying to rationalize it. No, you weren’t a soft spot, it was just convenient. You were familiar. You were predictable. 
Or at least he thought you were. It wasn’t until he came in the following week that he realized you were a bit different than the persona you wore at work. The very moment he walked through those doors, you were basically beaming. No longer lopsided, your smile was nothing short of a grin as he saw your hands instantly swim around in the pockets of your blazer. He approached you cautiously, a little putoff by how excited you were to see him. 
“I got you something,” you said, grinning. 
He stared at you for a moment as you pulled your hand out of your pocket. Though still extremely visible, your lip had healed up to the point where it probably wouldn’t crack anymore. The dark bruises on your collar bones had also begun to yellow, the blood that pooled there decomposing within you. 
And then you showed him your… gift. A dark handkerchief that had tiny cartoon dogs patterned onto it. You held it out to him like a child showing their parents some shitty art project that they did in school. 
“Figured you’d need another one after I ruined the one you gave me,” you said, wiggling it in your hands for him to take. “You also strike me as a dog person, so this seemed fitting.”
In a way it was almost cute. The idea of it certainly striked you so, anyway. Thinking about this large, somewhat intimidating man keeping something as dainty as a dog patterned handkerchief was certainly entertaining. Much to your surprise, and his own, he actually reached out and took it from you, though he did scoff at the sight of it before shoving it into his back pocket. 
Getting straight to business, he handed you all the necessary items to make the withdrawal from his account, which you happily helped him with. The band aid that had been on your finger the previous week was long gone, revealing your still bloody nail bed. Dark blood pooled just under the nail, almost as if you had painted it with nail polish before giving up after one finger. Still, you were able to type faster than you had the previous week at least.
“Run into any more poles over the weekend?” Simon asked. His dark eyes glanced down at your finger before flickering to your collarbone and then your eyes. 
Pausing, you looked up at him with eyebrows drawn together. “Huh? Oh, yeah uhm… not this weekend,” you answered with an awkward chuckle. 
Simon hummed, crossing his arms over his chest, making him appear even more broad than he already was. For another moment or two he carefully watched you as you counted the cash. As you put it into the envelope, the sleeve of your blazer pulled up slightly, revealing an old bruise on your wrist he hadn’t seen last time. 
“Good,” he responded as you slid the envelope his way. 
The problem with lying wasn’t that it was seen as a shitty thing to do; it was that it was difficult to keep up the narrative. By the sound of it, you were out of practice, and Simon caught onto it almost instantly. Last week it was a curb you fell on. That week, you didn’t correct him when he switched it up. This only further proved his point; that only another pair of hands could do something like that to someone. 
But he already knew that. And so did you.
“See you next week!” you smiled at him. 
That was… different. Much different from your usual farewell to him, and not just in the change of words, but the change of tone as well. You still held that same cheerful tone, but there was another layer to it. Not quite a demand, but not exactly a request either. Perhaps it was… 
A plea? 
But you were right. He did see you the week after that, and the one after that. Each time he saw you, the bruises faded a little more, and your busted lip slowly mended. You talked more than just your regular customer service autopilot, and it was endearing. Of course you did most of the talking, and Simon mostly listened, but every now and then you would pull the ghost of a chuckle from his mouth, or maybe he’d force you to indulge in one of his rather dry jokes. 
Even some of the other tellers, despite their still cautious glances at him, seemed to warm up to him a little bit. Perhaps he had you to thank for that, not that he was exactly trying to win their favor in the first place. Maybe a little comradery with strangers wasn’t such a bad thing. 
Until it was. 
“Would you want to go to the bar with me after work tonight?” 
October brought in a sharp chill to the air that had you wearing a nice knitted sweater to help stave off the draft in the building. Its dark background with popping jack-o-lantern theme matched perfectly with your area of the bank. Despite it only being halfway through the month you had already prepared for Halloween with a bowl of candy sitting on the counter and themed jelly stickers on the window behind you. 
He answered you with a hum, almost sounding confused. Pubs weren’t exactly Simon’s scene. He hated the scent of shitty IPA’s and the grumbling drone of music that hardly anyone listened to anyway. 
“The pub on twenty-first just started selling their seasonal Halloween drinks. They make this super tasty mix with the theme of like, vampires or whatever, that I’ve been dying to try again,” you said, bouncing on your heels. “But none of the girls here want to come with me, and I really hate going anywhere like that alone, so I thought I’d ask you.” 
He wanted to say no. He should have said no. Yet his gruff response left his lips before he had the chance to smother them, and later that night he found himself outside of the pub you described. 
It was a bit nicer than most other bars he had been to, but the very moment he stepped foot inside he knew it was just like the rest. Sour, hoppy scented beer assaulted his nose similar to how it did when it clung to his father’s clothes as a child. Mugs clinked against the wooden bar at the back of the building, and someone was busy racking up a pool table somewhere to his left. 
You stuck out like a sore thumb in your jack-o-lantern themed sweater, arms leaning against the counter as you hunched over your drink. The Friday night crowd parted for him as he made his way to the bar, grabbing the high stool and dragging it out a bit in order to seat himself next to you. 
Meeting in a place like that, Simon had expected things to be awkward, or maybe even a little tense, but it was almost as if nothing could bring you down. Maybe it was just the alcohol (some dark red, fruity scented drink that made his stomach turn) or maybe this was just how you were like when you weren’t at work, but you had turned into an absolute chatterbox. Jumping from topic to topic, his mind was beginning to spin, but it came to a screeching halt once the focus landed on him. 
“So, military, huh?” you asked. Your fingers lazily stirred your straw around in your drink. It was your second one, and he had a sneaking suspicion that the bartender might have made it a tad too strong for you to handle. 
Simon nodded, his own hands wrapped around a plastic cup. You had insisted that he at least drink a bit of water, which he hadn’t done at all. The ice had long since melted in the cup, and the condensation had made a puddle on the counter. 
“What’s that like?” you questioned further, your body pushing further into the counter as you tried to keep his attention. 
He gave you a dull shrug. “It’s work.” 
A slight pout appeared on your lips as you let go of your straw. “Oh, come on. It’s gotta be more interesting than that!” Before you could complain any further, you quickly snapped your fingers, a slight grin appearing on your face. “Wait, I get it! You can’t tell me because you work on high priority missions. Like secret agent shit, right?”
It took everything in him to hold back a slight chuckle at your childish dreaming. “Something like that.” 
Leaning forward, your lips wrapped around your straw as you drew in a deep sip of your drink. The sugary liquid coated your tongue in an almost sickening way. You knew if you drank much more, it would make you sick, not exactly from the alcohol but just from how sweet it was. Still, you forced it down your throat before leaning your head against your hand. 
“Must be neat,” you said in awe. “Despite all the military stuff, anyway. I bet you get to travel the world and see so many neat things. I’d kill for an opportunity like that… no pun intended.” 
Your bluntness caught him off guard, so much so it brought a grumbling chuckle tearing out of his throat. The very sound of it caused you to grin; grin even wider than you ever had before. His eyes flickered to your lips, reveling in the way they curled upwards, almost as if proud of yourself. As if you had been trying to get him to laugh for ages (which you might have been). Yet he couldn’t help but focus slightly on the corner of your lip and that bit of raised scar tissue that was so faint you couldn’t really see it unless you knew what you were looking for. 
“You should probably make that drink your last one for the night,” he said, his hands crinkling his plastic cup. “Don’t think I can stand your shitty puns much longer.” 
You laughed a little as you looked down at your drink. It was nearly empty, and slightly watered down at that point due to the melted ice. Everything felt warm, somewhat because of the alcohol, and somewhat because of your knitted sweater. 
“Right, of course. I forgot the bad jokes were your thing. Didn’t mean to steal your thunder or anything,” you teased. 
After that, you quickly sipped up the rest of the drink before setting it back on the counter with a dull thunk. Things had only gotten more crowded as the night drew on, and he found whatever social battery he had quickly being drained because of it. 
“Thanks for coming with me tonight,” you said softly, head returning to lean against your hand as you looked up at him. Even sitting next to him he was still so much bigger than you. “Honestly, I thought you were going to say no. Doesn’t really seem like your type of place so… just know I appreciate it.” 
What gave that impression? His tense shoulders? Or his eyes flickering around the room at least twenty times every minute like he was constantly on edge? 
“Don’t mention it,” he said, his voice low and rumbly. 
You smiled something soft, something fleeting as your eyes dropped down to look at his hands clasped around the cup of water. He hadn’t taken a single sip of it the entire time the two of you sat there. Not that you had expected him to, anyway. Certainly not with that mask of his. Maybe some time in the future you’d ask him about it, but that moment wasn’t the right time. 
“I’ll probably be headed out, then,” you said, pushing your empty glass towards the bartender who swiped it away almost instantly. “I’ll just make a quick stop by the bathroom. You can head out now if you don’t want to stick around.” 
He sat there for a moment in thought. Mind wandering to the faded bruises that had once littered your body, your wrist, your cheek. How blood dribbled down your chin in a crimson river, nearly staining your pristine blouse. And for a moment he couldn’t remember when that image of you started to plague him worse than that of the death and gore he had seen out in the field. 
“I’ll wait,” he said after deliberating. And then, “sure you don’t need a ride?” 
“No, I’ll be alright. I walked here,” you assured him as you slid out of your seat. 
Somehow that was worse. 
You slipped away before he could protest that idea, and he grumbled as he pushed his cup of water towards the end of the bar. Shitty music filled his ears as he sat there waiting for you, and without your voice to drown out the commotion around him, it consumed him. Sharp crack of the billiard balls crashing together, the scent of greasy pub pizza, the ringing of a bell as the door opened, the chilling October breeze bleeding into the building, the stale scent of cigarettes. 
A new loud, and frankly irritating, voice filled the bar, and it was so grating Simon found himself twisting in his seat to see the idiot for himself. He was a tall man, shorter than him but still enough to stick out in the crowd. By the looks of it he had already pregamed pretty hard before showing up, but other than being annoying, there was no reason for Simon to concern himself with the man. 
So he turned back around, taking his dark gaze off of the man as he continued to sit there, waiting for you. Which was taking much longer than he had expected. Perhaps you had broken the seal and all the alcohol you had consumed was passing straight through you. Either way, he would wait all night if he had to. He had decided there was no way in hell he was going to allow you to walk home alone from a pub. 
That’s when he heard your name. It felt odd hearing it come from such an ear-aching voice, and he couldn’t help but snap his head back over to the annoying patron that had caught his attention previously. 
And that’s when he saw you, face flushed from the alcohol, standing hardly a few steps away from the bathrooms with wide eyes. He knew that expression well. It was something he saw a lot. On his mothers face when his father returned home from a night of drinking. On the face of an enemy he stood above, ready to deal the final blow. On his own face when he looked in the mirror as a child. 
“Don’t talk to me.” Even over the dull drum of the music he could hear your voice. Despite how shaky you sounded, it was still surprisingly strong. But not strong enough to ward off the patron. 
“Come on, don’t be like that,” the man pushed, his words slurring as he attempted to saunter closer to you. “I missed you, you know that?”
Before you knew it his hand was wrapped around your wrist and the stench of alcohol was hot on his breath as it fanned across your face. It sent Simon’s stomach twisting almost painfully, so painfully that he stood from his seat, boots thumping as they marched across the bar floor. 
Then came the sound of flesh crashing against flesh as the palm of your hand slapped the man across the face. It was enough to grab the attention of everyone in the surrounding area, including the bartender who looked like he was one bad comment away from dialing 999. 
“Get your fucking hands off of me,” you seethed.
Unfortunately for you, the slap hardly seemed to phase him, and his grip only tightened. The man’s jaw set taut as his other hand came up and grabbed your waist with bruising force, drawing you closer to him as he bared his teeth in a snarling grin. 
“You fucking minx.” 
It was disgusting. The very sight of that man with his hands on you like he had won a prize. Greedy fingers digging into your flesh like he planned to take, and take, and take. Simon had seen it all before. Seen it in his own flesh as unwanted hands clawed at him. Felt it on his face in the form of a vile, wet tongue swiping around his mouth. It was in the screams he couldn’t hold back as the hook tore through his flesh. It was in the blood that spilled down his body as he hung there while they laughed. It was in the maggots that he sat in as he was buried alive. It was-
It was the pain he felt in his hand as his knuckles collided with the man’s jaw, snapping his head to an uncomfortable angle. In an instant his body went rigid and then limp. Those revolting hands fell away from you as his body collided with the floor beneath him, and the only sound he was able to make was a fit of air leaving his lungs upon impact. 
Everything fell silent except for the sound of that terrible, incessant music that blared over the speakers. All Simon could do for a moment was stare down at the man as the lights slowly flickered back on in his head, a low groan bubbling in his throat as his hands pawed at his surely aching jaw. 
Movement caught the corner of his eye, and he quickly turned his head where he found you rubbing at your wrist. Yarn from your knitted sweater stuck out of the edge of your sleeve at odd angles, having been tugged on too violently to hold together properly. He saw the tears prickling the edge of your eyes, and that was the last straw for him. 
Simon led you out of the pub after tossing some cash the bartender's way, leaving that shitty music and that asshole far behind the two of you. He walked you home just like he told himself he would, and a long stretch of silence sat between the two of you until you reached your front door. 
It wasn’t until he helped you inside that you noticed his split knuckles. In a way, it reminded you of the way your lip had split with that tiny, vertical cut. He didn’t seem phased in the slightest, and yet you practically begged him to let you clean him up. Something that he begrudgingly obliged to. 
As you led him into your living room, he tried to ignore the fist shaped hole in the wall by the entrance, and the discarded lamp on the counter that looked like someone had attempted to glue the shattered glass back together. He let you sit him down on the couch while you disappeared off into the bathroom to retrieve any first-aid items that you had stored away. 
Blood soaked into the swab you used to dab away at the wounds on his knuckles, cleaning it with a little bit of rubbing alcohol. It caught him off guard just how gentle you were with him; with the hands that had just knocked the lights out of someone. His eyes didn’t leave you for a second as you held his hand, working with the diligence of a surgeon cutting someone open. And maybe in a way you were; cutting him open, looking at the soft parts of him that he hid behind his mask. 
It wasn’t until after you put a few Hello Kitty band-aids over his knuckles that you explained just who that man was. He was your ex, and he was responsible for almost all the damage that had been done in your life. The hole in your wall, the bruises that had littered your collar bone, the broken lamp, your split lip. 
Never before had he been so glad to harm someone. Any other time it was a necessity. Saving himself. Saving a comrade. Nothing that he ever took pleasure or joy in. It was just work. But that? Hurting that man the way he did? He took joy in that.
When it came time for him to leave, you walked him to the door, your head feeling fuzzy from the mix of alcohol and from the anxiety that had held your chest in a vice grip for the last hour. As Simon ducked out of the doorway, you couldn’t help but smile slightly. 
“See you next week, Simon.” 
That was the moment that he decided he liked the way his name sounded when you said it. You never barked it like an order, or screamed it in anger. He had hated his name for a long while, hated being called anything other than his callsign for work. But when it came from your lips, well, maybe it wasn’t all that terrible. 
“Yeah,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. The band-aids pulled awkwardly at his skin as he paused on the porch of your apartment. “See you next week.” 
He vanished off into the night and you shut and locked the door behind him before returning to the living room to clean up the mess you made patching him up. All you could think about while you cleaned up the blood soaked cotton was the tone of his voice, and the fact that you don’t think you had ever heard him say a farewell like that to you, if at all. 
The very same thought plagued his mind as he made his way back to the pub where he had parked his car. His tone had even caught himself off guard. It was almost as if he was making a promise to you. Maybe he was. 
A huff of air pushed through his nostrils, mask muffling the sound as he shook his head at himself. Fingers flexed in his pockets and he ignored the slight sting of the freshly broken skin. 
It wasn’t supposed to happen like that. It wasn’t supposed to happen at all. And though Simon Riley wasn’t a stranger to surprises, he didn’t think he’d find himself making promises so soon to the only soft spot that had grown in his life.
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writingwithciara · 4 months
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It's The Little Things ~Nico Hischier~
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summary: y/n is unaware of how nico feels about her, until quinn brings it up
word count: 3.3k
pairing: nico hischier x reader
notes: nico is so precious and doesn't get as much love as he deserves ❣ so here you go nico girlies. hope you enjoy! [jealousy & some mention of sexual content at the end]
masterlist
y/n met quinn in the library at school. quinn was the only one there who didn’t judge y/n for constantly studying and trying to keep her grades up. he was also the only one who would stay and help her when the rest of her study group decided to ditch whatever they were working on to go to a party. no matter how many times she told him to go, he insisted on staying.
he became her best friend and she was his biggest supporter, on and off the ice. so when he was drafted to play for the vancouver canucks, they were both devastated. y/n still had a few years at school and couldn’t join him, but she was proud of him nonetheless. she promised to stay behind and look after luke when he decided to attend the university of michigan. and although she graduated the year before luke was drafted, she still stayed in town to keep him company.
when he was picked 4th overall for the new jersey devils, y/n went with him to newark where they found an apartment that was an affordable price for the both of them, with luke working off his hockey salary and y/n pitching in with whatever she could from her job as a waitress.
after almost a year of living together, they both decided that in order to save a little more money, that they would both move in with jack. and that was fine, for a while. but then the pandemic hit and they were spending too much time together. the boys started getting into more and more ridiculous arguments and it culminated with y/n deciding to find a new place to live. they all agreed that it was for the best, as it would save their friendship.
and it was convenient because their teammate nico was looking for a roommate. y/n didn’t know him very much but she moved in with him anyway.
3 years later, and nico was her favorite person. she felt bad for replacing quinn but he constantly assured her it was okay. he also tried to convince her that the main reason she preferred nico was because she had feelings for him, which she denied every chance she got because she truly did not have feelings for him. there was no reason she needed to have feelings for him.
until there was.
after quinn tried to convince her the last time, y/n started noticing all the little things nico did for her. he would bring her back her favorite snacks after practice and he would run her a bath when he knew she had worked a double shift. he would leave her surprise notes all over the place and he would send her motivational texts whenever he could. when he was on the road for away  games, he would call her or facetime her whenever he had a chance & if he couldn’t, he would send her a text to check in.
he bought her flowers ‘just because’ & he made sure she got the best seats at any of the home games.
she may not have had feelings for him but it was starting to feel like he had them for her.
---
“so what did your boyfriend do for you today?” quinn chuckled as soon as y/n accepted his facetime request.
“he’s not my boyfriend, quinn. we're just roommates.” y/n rolled her eyes. “and he doesn’t do these things every day. just when i'm having a particularly tough day. well that’s how it used to be. but lately, it’s been happening more and more. i'm starting to think that nico might have feelings for me.”
“yeah, probably. he asked luke about you when you guys met but luke didn’t give him the information he wanted.”
“what did he ask about?”
“he wanted to know what your status was. if you were seeing someone or not. but luke wouldn’t tell him.”
“if luke knew all of this, why did he and jack think it would be a good idea to live with him?” y/n set her phone down and looked at the apartment door. nico was supposed to be home shortly and she wanted to make sure he didn’t hear any part of the conversation.
“because they’re idiots, obviously. maybe they were hoping you guys would get together by now but it doesn’t seem like it’s going to happen any time soon.”
“he’s my best friend.”
“ouch.”
“okay he’s my alternate best friend.” y/n smiled. “what do you think of me being with nico?”
“i honestly think you guys are good for each other. it's like you’re each others missing piece or something.”
“quinn, i obviously love him. but it’s not like that. maybe we are soulmates, but i believe it’s only on a platonic level.”
“call it what you want but i do know that your dynamic with him is way different than your dynamic with me.”
“how so?”
“he does things for you and i just don’t.” quinn chuckled.
“that’s because you just suck, hughes.” y/n smiled. she heard the door open but before she could hang up, nico appeared behind her.
“hey quinn.” he waved and then turned to the table behind him, producing a fast food bag.
“i'll talk to you later. bye huggy bear.” y/n quickly hung up and turned to face nico. “what’s the occasion?”
“nothing special. just thought you’d be hungry & i know you haven’t had a good burger in a while so i stopped by that diner you love and got you a burger and some fries. oh and one of those specialty milkshakes and a slice of cheesecake for desert.”
“it’s from tops?”
“yes ma’am.” he smiled, knowing he had just made her day.
“you are the best roommate ever, nico!” y/n threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly.
“i know.” he hugged her back just as tightly and was reluctant to let go but he knew he had to let go eventually so she could eat.
that was the night that y/n started seeing nico differently. she stopped seeing him through her ‘platonic glasses’ and started seeing him with the ‘heart glasses’. there was no way she could tell quinn though.
the next few nights were lonely since nico had to go to a handful of away games. the apartment was empty, quiet and it lacked nico’s presence. y/n couldn’t stand it.
just as she walked into his room to look for his favorite sweater, her phone rang in her pocket. she picked it up and immediately answered when she saw his request for a facetime.
“hey. how's the trip?”
“it’s nice. we won last night’s game.”
“i know. congrats on the goal, by the way. i screamed so loud when it happened and i think our neighbors hate me.”
“that’s impossible.” he smiled. “nobody could hate you.”
“miranda might.” y/n heard jack say somewhere in the background.
“who’s miranda?”
“she’s a girlfriend of one of the guys. she's not very big on any of the single players hanging out with a girl. she doesn’t believe that a guy and a girl can be just friends.” nico chuckled, suddenly seeming tense. “i gotta go but it was nice to see your face, love. i'll call you tomorrow afternoon, okay?”
“okay. good luck tomorrow.” she smiled and when nico ended the call, she let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. something about the call seemed a little off and she needed to get down to the bottom of it.
it was another few days before y/n heard from nico. she sent him a bunch of congratulatory texts after the team won 3 games in a row, with nico scoring at least once in all of them. she even tried calling him but it went straight to voicemail every time.
on the night the devils were set to be back at home, y/n got ready in her custom hischier jersey and the coat he got her for her birthday. luke called her just as she was about to leave.
“hey lukey boy. what's up?”
“just excited to see you. i miss you.”
“awe. well i miss you too.” y/n smiled. “can you put nico on?”
“i would love to but i have no idea where he is right now.”
“okay. just, um, let him know i called and wished him luck tonight.”
“are you coming to the game?”
“of course.” she smiled again. it was hard not to smile with luke. he was sunshine. “gotta cheer on my 2 favorite players in the league.”
“hey, i heard that!” jack shouted from behind the camera. he suddenly appeared but he had a smile on his face, meaning her comment didn’t offend him. “i'm sure quinn wouldn’t be too happy to hear that either.”
“i can have more than 1 favorite player, jack.” she shook her head. “but seriously. good luck to all of you tonight. can't wait to cheer you guys on.”
“can’t wait to see you.” jack waved goodbye before disappearing off camera. luke just chuckled and looked back at his phone.
“we gotta go. see you shortly?”
“you bet. bye luke.” y/n hung up and grabbed her keys. the arena wasn’t far and the weather outside was nice so she decided to walk to the game.
when she got to the arena, she showed her id to security and they let her in, shielding her from fans. she made her way to her reserved seat and noticed a brunette sitting in the seat beside hers. the girl looked up at her and smiled.
“hi. i'm miranda.” she held her had out and y/n shook it before taking the seat next to her. “are you here for luke?”
“no. well, yes. but not just luke.” she watched as the players began skating out onto the ice to practice. she waved to luke and jack as they passed by the glass.
“oh. are you jack’s girlfriend then?”
“what? no. just a former roommate and really good friend of some of the team.”
“oh. that’s awesome.”
“who are you here for?”
“my boyfriend is on the team.” miranda watched the players until she found the one she came to see. y/n watched as the all too familiar 13 skated by them. he waved to miranda and caught y/n’s eye before looking down and skating to where jack and luke were. “that’s him. isn’t he so cute?”
“yeah. totally.” y/n watched as nico kept glancing up at the 2 of them.
down on the ice, luke noticed nico’s change in attitude. “dude, what is going on with you lately? first you ignore y/n for days with no explanation then you have your girlfriend attend the game, knowing full well that y/n would be here & also knowing that miranda doesn’t like her already.”
“she’s not my girlfriend, luke. just a fling.”
“a fling for what? what’s the point of breaking 3 hearts at once?”
“you know why i need this.” he glanced over to the stands and only saw miranda. she smiled at him and blew him a kiss but he just waved back. “what do you mean 3 hearts? the only hearts that are going to be breaking are mine and miranda’s.”
“in case you haven’t noticed, y/n has feelings for you. i can guarantee you’re breaking her heart and making it worse by ignoring her and keeping secrets from her.”
“yeah right, luke. there’s no way. y/n and i are just roommates. she's made that point about a billion times.”
“believe what you want, but we have a game to win, nico.” luke skated over to the bench while nico took his spot on the ice. he constantly looked over at the stands to see if y/n was there. she was but he noticed she was wearing a different jersey than the one she arrived in.
after seeing nico interact with miranda, even if it was brief, y/n suddenly felt wrong for wearing his jersey number while sitting next to his girlfriend. so she went and bought a 43 jersey instead and quickly changed into that, shoving the hischier one into her bag. when she returned to her seat, miranda looked at her.
“cute jersey.”
“thanks.”
at the end of the 2nd period, the devils were up by 2 and they were playing really well. y/n looked down as jack and luke looked up at her. nico waved to her but before she could wave back, miranda was waving instead. nico smiled and looked at his teammates. y/n pulled out her phone and pretended she was just checking her messages.
“hey, i gotta head out. can you tell nico that something came up and that i'm sorry & i'll see him when he gets home?”
“yeah of course. it was nice meeting you.” miranda and y/n waved goodbye to each other as y/n left the building. the air was a lot cooler than it was when she walked to the arena. thank god her coat was able to keep her warm.
she walked into the apartment and quickly turned the game on. the game was almost over and the devils were now down by 2. y/n suddenly felt bad for leaving, having been told by jack, luke & nico that she was their good luck charm. but nothing could make her stay at the game.
when the final buzzer went off, signaling the devils had lost, y/n clicked the tv off and headed to her room to change. she would normally do something to comfort nico after a loss but she figured that since he had miranda now, he wouldn’t need her to do anything to cheer him up.
about an hour later, y/n was in her room when she heard the door slam shut. rapid footsteps could be heard in the hallway before they stopped outside her bedroom door. y/n knew it was nico just by the gentle knock.
“come in.” she set her book down and sat up straight as nico walked in.
“why did you leave?”
“it didn’t feel right being there. your girlfriend doesn’t like me and even though she was being nice, i could tell it was fake.”
“so you left? since when has one person not liking you ever stopped you from doing something?”
“when the person is dating my best friend & doesn’t like me, that’s where i have to draw the boundary line, nico. keep my distance as much as possible to convince her there’s nothing going on between us.”
“she’s not convinced at all. she yelled at me after the game because she didn’t get the right vibe from you. she also asked me to ask you to move out.”
“you’re joking right? unbelievable. un-fucking-believable.” y/n got off her bed and grabbed a bag.
“what are you doing?” nico approached her and tried to slow her down but she kept throwing clothes into the suitcase.
“what does it look like i'm doing? i'm giving you space so you can keep miranda. in the meantime, i'll just stay with luke and jack. no big deal.”
“yes. very big deal.” nico grabbed her wrist gently and halted her movement. she dropped the tshirt she was holding and looked at him. “i don’t want to be with miranda. i made sure to tell her after the game & that’s when she yelled at me. assumed it was because of my commitment to you.”
“there’s no commitment. we're just roommates, nico.” y/n went  to grab the packed bag but nico stood in her way.
“before you go, i need to ask you something.”
“what?”
“do you really believe we’re just roommates? or do you feel a connection too?”
“no idea what you’re talking about.” she went to move around him but he held her in place by placing his hands gently on her shoulders.
“why is this so difficult for you to grasp, y/n?!”
“what are you talking about?” y/n sighed.
“i’m talking about the fact that i have been in love with you for the last 2 years and i thought i was making it obvious when i would do all those things for you. like, what type of roommate buys flowers for the other person for absolutely no reason? what type of person leaves notes for his roommate to find? what kind of guy would draw a bath for his roommate after she got home from a double shift? what kind of person would drop a significant other if they even said one bad thing about their roommate? a person who has no idea how to express his feelings with words, that’s who. i am that type of person, y/n & i need you to believe me.”
“why couldn’t you just come out and tell me how you felt, nico?”
“i told you. i’m not good at using my words when it comes to feelings. but i like you. i like you a lot. and admittedly, using miranda as a way to get over you was the stupidest thing i've ever done because it didn’t work.” he looked down at y/n and sighed. “earlier at the game, i think i felt my heart break like 4 times.”
“what do you mean?”
“well, the first time my heart broke was when i saw you looking upset when you met miranda. the second time was when i saw you had changed out of your hischier jersey and into a luke jersey. made me feel like crap for some reason. the third time my heart broke was when luke scored, you cheered louder than anyone but when i scored, you didn’t get as excited. and the fourth time was when the team lost. i looked up at the stands to see your reaction, only to find that you had left. you never leave the games and when miranda told me you were gone, i got upset and she yelled at me for caring more about he fact that you were gone more than the fact that she was there.” nico reached for y/n’s hand and sighed. “i am so sorry for everything, y/n. miranda meant nothing to me because whenever i was with her, i was thinking of you.”
“i love you, nico. and i’m sorry for not noticing the underlying reason behind all the things you did for me. i thought it was just what a good roommate would do. and i didn’t do anything for you. which i now realize makes me a terrible roommate.”
“you’re not a terrible roommate, y/n.” nico placed his hand on her cheek and smiled. “you’re always there for me when i need you & you always do something to cheer me up if my team loses. you're the best roommate, whether you believe it or not.”
“but you lost tonight and i didn’t do anything for you.”
“you just being here is enough, trust me.” his eyes flicked down to her lips before traveling back to meet her gaze. he didn’t waste anymore time. nico closed the gap and placed his lips firmly on hers. y/n kissed back quickly and pulled him closer.
as the kiss deepened, all of their jealousy was swept away.
nico placed his hands on her waist gently as he laid her down against her mattress. he hovered above her and she tangled her hands in his hair, biting his bottom lip in the process.
his grip on her waist tightened and a low groan came from his mouth as she gently tugged on his hair.
“how do you always look so hot after a game?” y/n asked as she broke the kiss to take a breath.
“only after a game?” he raised his eyebrow.
“oh shut up.” she smirked and pulled him back in. she flipped them over so she was straddling him and nico gazed up at her with he most amount of love he has ever had. or was it lust this time? he didn’t care as he pulled her down for a night neither of them would never forget.
------
taglist: @worldlxvlys @heavenlyhischier @chrisloyalgf @lhughes43 @ijustreallylovethem @captainboomaray @eberles
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heartpascal · 10 months
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omg plsss do more platonic father-figure joel fics comforting the reader please i begggg they are so good
carved over the door
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▹— joel miller x platonic!reader
▹— summary: you’ve been hiding something from joel, and he finally found out. his reaction is… not what you expected.
▹— a/n: ok this isn’t even like. close to being a favourite but i think the idea is cute, execution just isn’t great!! to be clear, things like this are NOTHING to be ashamed of, but this is gonna touch on how it can make the person feel!! (EDIT as of july, i have no idea how this fic is looking so please go easy, i haven’t proofread it, only tagged a bit of writing on the end to finish it up, so it’s not great)
▹— warnings: father figure joel, reader is illiterate, r is embarrassed about it, therefore says some bad things, is ashamed almost, so please be wary, cute lessons ensue, swearing, lazy writing at the end, use of ‘sweetie’
▹— taglist: @rhymingtree @sleepygraves @wnstice (everything), @auggiesolovey @just-kaylaa @evyiione @lemonlaides @fariylixie0915 @erensloveinterest @dazedshoon @faceache111 @randomhoex @canpillowscry @pedropascalsrealgf @star-wars-lover @coolchick333 @soobsdior @ilybbg @rvjaa @oliest19xx @pedropepsi @sunflowersdrop @truthfuleeyours (pedro)
masterlist
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Being born into the end of the world probably should have killed you off early. Most kids your age were either dying or dead, or being trained to become child soldiers. It was rare for kids born in the pandemic to live, you had been told. Risks of death were everywhere, from Infected, to FEDRA, all the way to all those diseases you hadnt been vaccinated against.
Survival odds were bleak, to say the least, but you were one of the lucky ones.
Life had put you in the path of the only two good people you knew — Joel and Tess. It was them who had saved you from FEDRA’s clutches, though you had never understood why. They had consistently told you that they only looked out for themselves, so was the way of life in the apocalypse, but each time you needed them, there they were.
There was that time you had an infection, and despite the weather being awful and security tight, Joel and Tess had gone out on a supply run, getting a hold of the antibiotics that had saved your life.
You tried to be useful, hopeful that if you helped them enough, as much as they helped you, that they wouldn’t kick you out any time soon.
It’s why you always took it upon yourself to clean their bloodied clothes, to sew up the tears that would have ruined them, to wash the dishes you all ate your rations off of. It’s why you always made sure to use the coldest water, refusing to take any that may be the slightest bit warm from them. Little things like that would surely keep you at least somewhat helpful.
It’s also why you kept your biggest secret quiet.
You had done your best to prevent them from ever finding out, and had they not decided that you could join them in visiting Bill and Frank, you were sure they never would’ve.
They’d known the two men for a while before you had arrived, and this would be your first time meeting them. Joel usually insisted upon you staying at the QZ, too worried over the journey and the risks it posed for you to attend any of their supply runs, but they seemed… content to let you join.
The three of you would be heading straight to Bill and Frank’s, and then straight back. No pit stops, no detours, just one confirmed route.
Your nerves had been playing up the whole time, causing you to jump at any sound, your hands shaking at the sight of Infected, hell — you had listened to every word that Joel and Tess said, though they didn’t blame you. It was your first time outside of the QZ, and they understood how frightening this could be.
You couldn’t decide if arriving at Bill and Frank’s made your anxiety better or worse.
It kept you quiet the whole time you were there, even as Bill tested the three of you, nodding when the screen flashed green. You stuck by Joel’s side as the four of you set up the table, Bill inside the house cooking dinner.
The four of you finally sat down, with Frank and Tess starting up conversation quickly, before Frank stopped, turning to you and saying, “Oh, would you mind going and grabbing a bottle of Barbera, sweetie?”
He was nice, and you didn’t want to get Joel and Tess in trouble with them by bringing you if you didn’t help them out, so you nodded with a nervous glance at Joel. “Sure, in there?” You pointed towards the house, and Frank nodded with a smile, turning back to his conversation with Tess.
You stepped away from the table, glancing back and seeing Joel looking at you with a quirked eyebrow, frown marring his features. You smiled tightly toward him before opening the front door, stepping inside and following the smell of cooking until you found Bill. “Um, Frank said to grab the bottle of… Bar—Barbera?”
Bill grunted, a grumpy expression covering his face, and nodded his head toward another door. You went through it quickly, down some steps, and you just about stopped yourself from crying when you saw the number of bottles around the room.
By the three minute mark, the stairs creaked, and Joel appeared at the bottom, looking increasingly concerned as he saw your distressed expression. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, it’s—it’s fine.” You replied, your voice shaking slightly, and you looked away from him, continuing to scan all the bottles on the shelves in front of you. The labels meant nothing to you, and you couldn’t help but get more upset by Joel’s presence.
He placed a hand on your shoulder as he approached, and didn’t say a word as he grabbed a bottle up towards your left. He led you out of the room, handing you the bottle and guiding you to where the other three were now settled at the table, food set out in front of them.
“Thank you, sweetie.” Frank said kindly as you set the bottle down at the table, quickly pulling your hands back before anybody could see the shake to your fingers.
You sat through the rest of the dinner quietly, barely able to enjoy the actual nice, home-cooked food through your racing thoughts. You answered Frank when he spoke to you, still knowing that you needed to be polite, but you were starting to feel sick.
When the three of you finally made it home, Joel and Tess had shared a number of concerned glances, eyebrows drawn close together as they murmured between one another, still talking quietly even when you dropped down on the sofa, a sigh leaving your chest.
It stayed that way for the next few weeks, and there was an awkward energy growing in the apartment the three of you shared. With your uncharacteristic quietness, and the way Joel and Tess would converse quietly, as if you hadn’t noticed, something was up.
That much became increasingly obvious when Joel sat you down on the couch you slept on, the crease between his brows as deep as ever.
He said your name nervously, and cleared his throat before he continued, “When we were at Bill and Frank’s, I, uh— I noticed somethin’.”
“Noticed what?” You responded when he didn’t continue, your anxiety leaking into your voice in the way it shook as you spoke, and you knew exactly what was coming. He’d realised your secret — he and Tess must’ve been deciding what to do during all of those talks.
“Fuck,” He muttered, clearly unsure how to go about this conversation, “Don’t… take this the wrong way, but, can you read?”
Your heart dropped to your stomach, and you swallowed nervously. “‘Course I can read, Joel.” You replied, snapping at the man, who just frowned more at your response.
He nodded, and reached into the backpack by his feet, pulling out a relatively thin book. He looked almost remorseful, pulling this out when he knew you were lying, and you hated the way that shame pulled at your stomach, making you feel sick as you looked at the letters you couldn’t make any sense of.
“Y’know, there’s nothin’ wrong with not knowing.” Joel said, voice softening as he looked at your panicked expression.
“Except that you don’t want me around anymore, right? It’s fine, but it’s not good enough. Don’t want some dumbass kid who can’t even read hanging around, is that it?” You snapped, anger firing up in your chest as you stood from the couch, fists clenched at your side as you averted your eyes from the book in his hand.
Your cheeks were burning, embarrassment flooding your expression, and your eyes were beginning to fill with tears.
“What? No, kid, sit back down.” He said, pushing you back to your seat by your shoulders. “Don’t go ‘round making assumptions like that. I’m offering to teach you.”
“Oh.”
He snickered at your response, though he looked almost embarrassed to be making the offer, like he was unsure what your response would be.
“So… you’re not kicking me out?”
“‘Course not. Getting ahead of yourself, there.”
“You really wouldn’t mind… teaching me?” You asked, heart still hammering in your chest as you stared at the man, his face softening at your nervous questions.
In response, he moved to sit right beside you on the couch, and opened the book in his hands. “It’s been a while for me, kid, so go easy.”
You smiled at him, wiping your tears before settling close to his side, head gently resting against his arm to get the best angle of his book. He pointed an index finger at the words as he read aloud, pointing new letters out each time they came up. Some familiar words came up, spelled phonetically, and made sense once you’d learnt the full alphabet on paper, but others made much less sense. Like fight — where did the gh come from?
By the time the two of you had made it through the first chapter, you could recognise letters on paper, know the sounds that the letters made, and even read majority of the simpler words, the ones that came up often.
Tess came home a bit later on, after you had fallen asleep against Joel’s shoulder. She raised her eyebrows, a hint of something like a smile on her face as she looked at the two of you, and asked, “Good first lesson?”
Joel wiped a hand down his face, his muscles tense in his efforts to keep still in order to not wake you, and stay awake himself. “Made some good progress.” He acknowledged, his voice barely louder than a whisper as he looked down to where you were slipping from his shoulder. Tess nodded at him, before heading down the hall to get on with unpacking her backpack.
From then on, these sorts of evenings happened a few times a week, almost always ending with you falling asleep against Joel. Your reading ability improved, and when the two of you finished the short book, you started rereading it immediately, now able to follow along more clearly as the stuttered words flowed more easily, and soon enough, Joel was promising to grab a new book from Bill and Frank’s.
The new words were tricky, when starting the new book, but each time you got stuck, Joel was there to help, and eventually, you got used to reading without his help. Sounding out words you were stuck on yourself, just waiting for his confirming mmhm to be muttered before you would continue on.
When finally, you finished an entire chapter without a murmur from Joel, you pulled away from his side excitedly, looking towards his face and seeing his expression being nothing short of filled with pride. He pulled you back to his side, one arm wrapped around you this time, and squeezed your shoulders before urging you to continue.
Feeling your eyes start to slip, words going blurred on the page, you asked, “Could you keep going?” Without questioning you, he continued from where you left off, reading the words out loud and keeping his arm wrapped firmly around your shoulder.
It was strange, hearing that softness to Joel’s voice, when before these lessons, you’d only ever heard the gruff voice he usually had. It made sense, you supposed, given that he remained rough around the edges for everybody who wasn’t you and Tess, but it made you feel… almost comfortable. It was like a safety net was wrapped around you, like nothing could happen to you if you stayed at his side.
You yawned, eyes still trying to focus on the book that Joel continued to read, his finger subconsciously moving along the page whilst he spoke the words.
It wasn’t long before you fell asleep against him, his voice fading to a whisper when he realised. It became something of a tradition between the two of you, these lessons where Joel taught you, and then eventually read to you until you fell asleep. He didn’t mention how much it reminded him of before, of her. And you didn’t mention how much more comfortable you had gotten since the lessons had started.
No longer were you on the edge of your seat, waiting for them to give you the boot. Now, you finally felt… accepted. In a way you never had been before Joel, before being taught something that wasn’t just for survival.
Strangely, it was almost like you could live, rather than survive. You didn’t voice it aloud, but you suspected Joel felt similarly, if his change in behaviour said anything.
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Text
Clandestine
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pairing: Mr. Ben x fem! reader
rating: Mature (things get a lil heated 👀)
word count: 4.5k
summary: Mr. Ben is daddy, Ms. Jenny is mommy and they’re all a happy family at St. Lawrence High School, no crumbs left. But what happens when the cool aunt moves to town?
warnings: i did my best to leave out specific descriptions of reader except that she does have breasts and wear feminine clothing, infidelity, swearing, alcohol consumption, some heavy making out and implied smut, Ben has a daddy kink (as always, please message me if i missed anything)
a/n: my second submission for @beskarandblasters's Taylor Swift writing challenge! this one is based on "illicit affairs" from her album, folklore. being one of my top 3 albums of hers, i was excited for this prompt but i laughed so hard when Kel paired it with Mr. Ben 🤣 i had a ton of fun sprinkling in references (as well as a few extra swiftie ones too, if you look closely). this is also probably the longest fic i've ever written since i started writing years ago but this story really just took on a life of its own. i hope you all enjoy reading as much as i did writing and PS happy birthday, Pedro 😊
Teaching European History to a bunch of 10th graders is definitely not for the faint of heart, but the aftermath of the pandemic on the public education system only made the calling harder for you to ignore.
That’s why it meant so much to you when you discovered your students making fancams and claiming you as the “cool aunt.” You knew it was just their way of connecting with you and if it helped them pay attention in class and actually enjoy learning, what’s the harm? Some of the other teachers didn’t share your sentiment, but you were never one to much care about others’ opinions.
Until you met him.
Mr. Ben.
He and Ms. Jenny were the students’ absolute favorite teachers at the school, earning them the coveted titles of Mommy and Daddy. Their classrooms were both on the other side of the school in the math hall, so you never really saw them except at the monthly after-school faculty meetings. But one morning a piece of mail intended for Mr. Ben had been left in your mailbox in the front office by mistake, so you made the journey into uncharted territory.
Reading the plaques on each door, you almost thought you were in the wrong hallway when his name finally appeared on the last one at the end. It was slightly cracked so you could hear the scratching of chalk as he wrote on the board. Knocking lightly to announce your presence, you waited to hear him acknowledge you before walking in. His classroom was decorated to feel bright and cozy and welcoming, soft music emanating from the area near his desk. And the man standing in front of the chalkboard certainly fit the vibe. Soft but sturdy, carefully styled curls threatening to break free. You immediately understood why he was your students’ beloved and had them in a chokehold. You felt your cheeks heat for a moment when he cleared his throat to catch your attention, having been staring in silence for a bit too long.
“Can I help you with something?” Even his voice was so father.
“Um, yes. Sorry. I think some of your mail ended up in my box on accident.” You approached him, holding out the thin envelope. “It’s right underneath yours so it’s an easy mistake to make if you’re not careful.”
His thick fingers brushed yours as he took it from you, and you tried to steady your breath as you felt their brief warmth radiate up your arm. “Oh, good catch. Thank you.” He turned to place them on his desk and you were prepared for that to be the end of it, but he focused his attention back on you. “You’re new this year, right? I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Ben.” Extending his hand back out to you, you swallowed hard before taking it and replying with your own name. He repeated it back to you in understanding and you nearly melted at the way it effortlessly rolled off his tongue. The bell indicating the beginning of first period interrupted you before the conversation could continue any further. Bidding him a rushed farewell, you hurried back to the sanctuary of your own classroom across campus.
That was months ago. By the end of the year, the passing gestures became more frequent so that you were thankful for summer break to give yourself some time away from the man who had no idea his foot was always on your neck. Finally, you could breathe.
--
The weeks passed quickly and now you’re hauling boxes of school supplies across the parking lot. It’s the week before classes start anew and all of the teachers are trickling back in to ready their classrooms. You’ve just deposited the cardboard box on your desk when your phone chimes with a reminder about the faculty meeting in 5 minutes. You grab your lanyard, weighed down with your ID and keys, and head for the library.
When you arrive, everyone has already taken their seats so the only one available is next to him. Mr. Ben. Steeling yourself, you try to appear casual as you take your place. Feeling your movement, Ben looks over at you and flashes a captivating smile that you return without a second thought.
“Welcome back, kid. Have a good summer?” He launches into the usual teacher small talk but it’s not at all uncomfortable.
“I did. And yours?”
“Not bad. Nothing special, really.”
You hum in acknowledgement before Principal Owens steps up to the front, signaling the start of the meeting. In that moment, you come to a realization that you can’t shake. Nudging Ben’s elbow with yours, you lean closer and keep your voice low.
“I haven’t seen Jenny around, is she feeling okay?”
He chuckles before picking up on your sincerity. “Oh, you didn’t hear? She transferred over to St. Augustine.”
Your eyes widen in surprise. “Really? Can’t wait to break that to the students.”
“Yeah, you and me both.” He chuckles a little harder, earning a couple of sideways glances from others around you. You shrink into your seat a little as Ben attempts to cover with a cough.
You try to ignore the flutter in your heart, but you just have to know. “So are the two of you still…?” you trail off, hoping he picks up on your meaning so you don’t have to say it out loud.
“Yeah. Yeah, we’re still together. One less heartbreak for the kids,” he jokes.
“Oh, good. That’s good.”
And you mean it. If he’s happy, you’re happy. But a pit has formed in your stomach and you lose yourself in thought until Principal Owens makes his final announcement.
“There has been yet another surge of fancams created over the summer so as part of the first-day assembly, we will be including a segment on responsible technology usage. Ben, since you ate up the last one, would you mind handling it? After all, it was nom nom delish and had them gagged.” A burst of laughter ripples through the room as Ben runs a hand through his hair, amused.
“Yeah, sure. What could possibly go wrong this time?”
“Thank you. And if it’s not too trouble, I’d like to pair you with our newest target,” Owens gestures to you, conveniently sitting in the same vicinity, “so dubbed the ‘cool aunt.’”
You feel the heat begin to creep up your neck as you realize the implications of the proposal. You look over to see Ben nod and shrug as if to say “why not.” Looking back to the front of the room, you smile and nod in acceptance of the project. Inside, you’re trying not to scream. You don’t notice Ben holding his gaze on your profile for the rest of the meeting.
You retreat to your classroom after you’re all dismissed, willingly losing yourself in paperwork and organizing when there’s an all-too-familiar knock on your door. You look up just as Ben steps over the threshold. And closes the door. And crosses to perch on the edge of your desk, giving you an optimal view of the way his jeans stretch over his sculpted thigh and ass.
“So, how are you feeling about this assembly next week?” He leans forward, propping himself up on one arm. You force yourself to not look at the veins winding and disappearing under his shirt sleeve and maintain eye contact, which isn’t much easier.
“Good. I mean, is it supposed to be scary? What happened last time?” You remember the way everyone reacted when Ben received the assignment.
He smiles and huffs a laugh at the memory. “Let’s just say I was in your shoes now. I was just so confused about the whole concept. But it gave Jenny and I the opportunity to officially come out as a couple, so I guess it wasn’t all bad.”
The pit in your stomach widened at the mention of Jenny again. “Well, I’m glad I’m working with someone so experienced then.” You mentally kick yourself at your choice of words. What the hell is that supposed to mean? You try to recover. “Honestly, I’m a little flattered. It means the kids are engaged.”
Ben doesn’t seem to notice. “Yeah, it is kinda nice that they look up to us like that. Even if it is a little…”
“Unorthodox?”
“Right. It took me forever to figure out what it meant to have rizz and be a skinny legend.” He almost can’t get through his sentence as he’s interrupted by his own wheezing laugh. He fights it off long enough to finish his thought. “But it looks like you’re in your assembly era now, so what do you say we meet up here tomorrow and put this presentation together?”
You quickly agree, both in excitement and eagerness to get him out so you can get ahold of yourself. Satisfied, he rises but stops before he fully walks away. “By the way, I really like that perfume you’re wearing. Vanilla?”
“A-and cherry,” you manage to choke out.
“My favorite.” He smirks before raising his hand in goodbye and exiting the room, closing the door behind him.
--
The next week is a blur. You meet the next day to organize the presentation, as promised, but one conversation topic leads to another and before you realize what’s happening, Ben is putting his number into your phone. Then you’re giving him yours.
You keep telling yourself you’re just friends, like a mantra, but you can’t help but feel a sense of pride at the way he thinks you don’t notice how he inhales a little deeper when you lean into his personal space, taking in your scent. His favorite.
Even the assembly goes off without a hitch. Naturally, the students are disgruntled yet again at being reminded that fancams of their biases are banned, no matter how much they munch on it. But they seem to pick up on the friendship between their daddy and cool aunt and that’s enough to appease the juvenile masses.
You’re both dreading and looking forward to your free period. When comparing schedules, you and Ben discovered you had the same block open, so you agreed to make that a regular coffee break together. He’s already there when you walk in, bursting into his signature smile as you approach.
He stands and pulls your chair out to sit at the small table. “So, how’s the first day been?”
Accepting the gesture and trying not to read too much into it, you breathe out, “Pretty good. I can already tell that covering the Bubonic Plague is going to be interesting, but we will cross that bridge when we get to it.”
Once more, the two of you fall into an easy conversation when an ill-timed joke has you spilling your coffee. All over Ben’s tie. You immediately jump up, dashing to wet some paper towels. Ben rises to stop you, laughing at your mortification.
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. Hey,” he grasps your wrists, forcing you to turn and face him.
“I-I think I have a Tide pen in my room, I can go run and get it.”
“No need. I started keeping a spare in my desk years ago. You wouldn’t believe how often I spill coffee on myself.”
With that, you follow him back to his classroom. He closes the door behind you, crossing to his desk to rifle through the drawers, but you hang back. It’s only when he finally pulls out the replacement tie that you allow yourself to breathe and walk over.
Ben holds it up in jest. “See? Problem solved.” You hope he doesn’t hear the way you swallow hard as you watch him skillfully unwind his soiled tie from around his neck with one hand.
However, he struggles to knot the new tie and you speak up, “Need a hand with that?” You don’t know where the confidence came from.
He looks up at you, eyes a couple shades darker. “Would you?”
You round the desk and try to stop your hands from shaking as you reach up towards his chest. Your knuckles brush his soft button-up but before you can grip the decorative length of fabric, you feel Ben’s hands cradling your elbows. You slowly lock eyes with him, and the rest happens too fast for your brain to process.
Ben swiftly maneuvers you against the edge of his desk and leans in close, his nose to your temple, breathing you in. “You wear this just for me?”
You can’t lie to him. “Yes.”
He travels down to your pulse point where the perfume is applied, ghosting over the delicate skin there. “Good.”
He darts the tip of his tongue over the spot before moving to look you in the eyes once more, his hands journeying experimentally down to your waist. You’re fully trapped now. But you don’t want to escape.
He rests his forehead on yours as your eyes flit down to his mouth and back up. “Ben?”
“That’s not my name.”
You’re taken aback by his response for a moment before he leans in the tiniest bit more so you can feel the tickle of his mustache as he whispers, “What’s my name, baby?”
“Daddy,” you breathe out.
His lips twitch into a smirk before crashing against yours, sealing you to him.
--
Your escapades go on that way for months, innocently meeting in the teachers’ lounge to make your coffees and carrying them back to his classroom where they’re quickly abandoned. You easily get lost in each other, you perched on his desk as he stands between your thighs. You’ve discovered he likes it when you tangle your fingers in his curls, but you have to be careful not to muss them too much lest anyone catch onto your illicit activities.
You know it’s wrong. He and Jenny are still together, despite the different schools. Your mind is a constant whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. What if she finds out? Does she already know about you? Where do you stand?
But Ben is quick to make you forget your inner turmoil. You’re in your usual seat upon your throne of his desk, your blouse unbuttoned halfway to grant him access to your chest. His lips are latched to your collarbone, one hand cupping a breast and the other holding the knee you draped over his hip. You feel his hardness against your clothed core, knowing it must be painful for him. But you can’t cross that line. Not here.
As if rehearsed, Ben slows his movements to a halt, trailing his tongue back up your neck and jaw before reaching his final destination and molding your lips together. Wordlessly, you peel apart and put yourselves back together. You dare to break the silence.
“Ben?”
He looks back at you with those adorable baby browns that everyone at the school loves. “What’s wrong, baby?”
“Nothing, exactly. I just-” you cut yourself off, taking a deep breath. “At the risk of sounding like a cliché, what about us?”
“I don’t understand,” he says with a furrowed brow.
“I mean. We’ve been doing…this for a while now. And I can’t deny that I’ve grown to love the thrill of sneaking around with you.” You slide off his desk to plant yourself firmly in front of him. “But…you and Jenny...I guess what I’m trying to figure out is-”
“What do we do?”
“Yeah.”
Ben lets out a sigh and adjusts his watch. Noticing the time, he reaches for your arm and the two of you walk to the door. But he puts his hand on the handle before you have the chance to turn it.
“I promise we’ll talk about this. Tonight? I’ll call you?”
You press your lips into a tight smile. “Yeah. Tonight.”
Ben removes his hand and you exit the room. As if on cue, the bell rings to signal the change of classes and you pick up your pace to make it through the sea of students back to your room in time for your next lesson.
--
He does call. And you do talk. But ultimately you agree not to change anything for now. He needs time to figure out where he and Jenny stand but neither of you can bear to let the other go in the meantime. You try to hide your growing disillusionment at your arrangement, but you can’t tell if you’re truly that good at pretending or if Ben actively ignores it.
It all comes to a head the morning you sleep through your alarm, recovering from your hushed over-the-phone activities the night before, and you forget to wear your perfume. His perfume.
You’ve assumed your position when Ben suddenly recoils.
“Where is it?”
“Where is what?” You wrack your brain trying to interpret the question.
He slowly leans back in, inhaling deeply to make sure he didn’t just miss it. “Vanilla and cherry.”
The realization hits you like a ton of bricks. “Oh, B- Daddy, I’m so sorry.”
He nearly whines in disappointment. “Where is it?”
“I slept through my alarm. I must have been moving so fast this morning that I forgot it.” You twirl your fingers through the curls at the base of his neck. “I’ll wear it tomorrow, I promise.” Ben still doesn’t look at you. You tug a little harder, forcing his attention. “Hey. It was an honest mistake, I-”
“Did I do something wrong?”
The question jars you even more than the first. You want to reassure him but you can’t form the words and your hesitation speaks volumes.
“Baby, why didn’t you say something?” Ben pulls away completely now, leaning up against the chalkboard.
“What could I say, Ben?” You’re emboldened now, matching his stance. “That I’m tired of sneaking around? That I hate being the other woman but I feel this crushing guilt about coming between the two of you?” You pause to think carefully about your next words before just throwing caution to the wind. “That I love you and I want people to know it. Don’t you?”
You can see the hurt bloom in Ben’s eyes. “Kid, I…I don’t know what I want.”
But that hurts worse. “Really?” You reach to fix the few buttons he had managed to undo and walk towards the door but he steps in front of you.
“Hey, hey, don’t- baby, just- just hear me out kid, please, let’s talk-”
“Don’t call me that.” Your voice is tinged with cold.
“Call…call you what?”
“Don’t call me ‘kid.’ Don’t call me ‘baby.’ In fact, don’t call me anything until you figure out what it is you do want.” You swerve past him and yank the door open. “Maybe I’ll still be waiting for you.”
It takes everything in you not to slam the door out of respect for the ongoing classes around you.
--
You’ve mastered the separation of your personal and professional lives so no one can see through your façade for the rest of the day. But the last bell couldn’t ring soon enough. You pack your bag and leave just as quickly as any of your students and book it out to your car. You know you’re going to get stuck in the after-school traffic but it’s better than waiting it out in your classroom where he could find you. You’ve just unlocked your door when you hear your name. You don’t recognize the voice over the din of cars and school buses, so you search for the owner and immediately regret it.
Ben raises his hand at a car that stopped to let him pass and jogs across the pavement. You want nothing more than to scream at him but for the sake of keeping up appearances, you smile and let him approach. Your voice betrays your true feelings.
“I told you, Ben, I’m-”
“I know you’re pissed and you have every right to be. But I have something I need to say and I really don’t want you to misunderstand me, so could I please just get through to the end and then you can say your piece?” He sounds out of breath. “Please?”
You simply nod and lean back against your car, waving at passing students.
“Okay. I’ve thought about what you said. And truth be told, I have not been fully honest with you. But I want to change that. I want to talk about this. About us.” He takes a long pause, collecting himself, and you almost think he’s finished before he launches into it again. “Can I come see you tonight? At your place? Or mine, whichever you’re more comfortable with. I’ll cook and we can really talk. Face to face.”
“What about Jenny? She’s not going to wonder where you are?”
“Don’t worry about that. I’m taking care of it.”
You take in his words. It’s not exactly what you hoped when he said he had something to say but you’re also standing in the middle of the high school parking lot. It’s neither the time nor the place to hash out your relationship problems.
“Fine. My place. 7:00. But you’re not staying too late, it’s a school night.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Ben lets himself smirk for a moment before switching back into teacher mode and bids you good afternoon, taking off back towards the school.
--
It’s 6:57 and you’re starting to curse yourself for agreeing to let Ben come over. But in a way, this is like a first date. Your first meeting outside of campus. And you can’t lie that the prospect of what could come after intrigues you.
7:00 on the dot and your doorbell rings, so you steel your nerves and open the door. Ben looks almost relieved that you actually answered and you step aside to let him in. In one hand, he holds an insulated bag of what you can only assume is ingredients for the dinner he promised to cook and in the other, a small bouquet of your favorite flowers. You accept those with a small smile and lead him into the kitchen. He begins unpacking the bag to start cooking while you dig through drawers to find a pair of scissors.
“Do you want some wine? You didn’t say what you were planning to cook so I pulled out a red and I also have a white already in the fridge,” you offer as you cut the flower stems at an angle and untie the bundle to arrange them in the vase on the coffee table.
“White sounds perfect, thank you,” Ben accepts as he rolls up his sleeves. You pull out the bottle and pour a little into two glasses, handing him one. You go to take a sip before he holds his out to you. “Cheers.” You clink and then drink, resisting the urge to down half the glass in one go.
You stand off to the side most of the time while Ben takes over your kitchen, falling back into your easy conversations without even realizing it. You have to admit you love watching him, the way his hands grip the knife and the vegetables he’s cutting, the sweat glistening on his forehead and the back of his neck from the hot stove.
The rest of the night feels…natural. Effortless. You almost forget why he came over in the first place.
You’re lounging on the couch with him, dishes washed and kitchen cleaned, wine glasses in hand when you finally cut to the chase.
“So what did you want to say to me?”
Ben’s eyes widen slightly and he leans over to rest his glass on the coffee table. “Say what?”
You need him to get to the point before you lose your nerve again. “In the parking lot, you said you wanted to talk. About us. So let’s talk.”
He lets out a nervous sigh and turns to better face you. “Right.”
You hold eye contact, expecting him to say more, but nothing comes. You sit up, putting your glass down next to his, losing your patience. “Ben, if you’re not going to-”
“I love you, too.”
The four words you’ve been waiting for him to say since the first time you kissed. But followed by more silence.
“That’s it?”
Ben opens and closes his mouth, searching for the words, but you cut him off.
“That’s not enough, Ben. The sneaking around, the stolen stares across the room, it was fun but it’s not enough anymore. You’ve made a fool out of me, but more than that you’ve…I’ve ruined myself for you.”
“You…what do you mean?” He leans in, careful not to intrude too far into your personal space.
“What we have is- is different. I’ve never had something like this and I don’t think I ever will again. You’ve shown me things, taught me things that I can’t ever share with anyone else. But this isn’t going anywhere and I’m not sure you even want it to.”
“I do!”
“And Jenny? You can’t have us both, Ben.”
“I told her.” The only sounds in the room are your individual heavy breaths. “We talked and apparently, she’d been feeling pretty distant, too. She was trying to work up the courage to talk me into counseling but when I told her about you…she let me go.” He curls his hand into a fist, stopping himself from reaching out and touching you. “I am yours and only yours. And I don’t care who knows it anymore.”
“Then prove it.” You feel as if your heart is going to burst from how fast it’s racing.
“I will.”
Ben practically launches himself across the couch, yanking you into his arms and smashing his lips to yours, as if pulled by an invisible string. You react immediately, curling your limbs around him, desperate to hold him closer. You gasp for breath when he breaks apart just enough to mumble against your lips. “Where?”
“Down the hall, last door on the left.”
In a flash, you find yourself deposited on your bed, dress crumpled on the floor, fingers flying to undo the buttons on Ben’s dress shirt. You shift your focus to his slacks, his rock-hard bulge ever prominent as you unzip. You move to pull them down his thighs along with his briefs, but he stops you. His shirt now gone, he nudges you to fall backwards onto your pillows and he follows.
His weight on top of you is intoxicating, finally able to feel all of him. The broadness of his shoulders, the contracting muscles in his back, the softness of his tummy pressed to yours. His mouth finds its home in your cleavage, nipping and sucking at the sensitive flesh, the scratch of his patchy beard bordering on overstimulating.
“Ben-”
“That’s not my name.” He looks up at you with a devilish grin and emphasizes his point with a hard grind of his hips into yours. “What’s my name?”
“Daddy!”
His tongue soothes each bite as he finally journeys up your chest to your neck. Taking in a deep breath, he releases it with a sinful groan from deep in his chest.
“You wear this just for me?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
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theetherealbloom · 1 year
Text
UNEVEN ODDS - CH. 7
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Chapter Seven: Let's Stay the Course and Let the Tension Make Us New
Summary: The Reader is dragged into the Last of Us universe and has no choice but to watch the events unfold or will she be able to change what was already written?
Paring: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Age-gap Romance, Violence, ANGST, LOTS OF ANGST IM SORRY, TW: Sexual Assault, Attempted Rape, Swearing, Suicide, FLUFF, PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, the pandemic, character death, INFECTED, MY SCIENCE IS WONKY, probable plot holes, rusty writing, TLOU is dark please read at your own risk!
Word Count: 6.5k
A/N: HI THANK YOU, GUYS, FOR YOUR CONTINUED SUPPORT ILY SO MUCH AHHHHHH ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ This chapter is gonna merge with Episodes 7 & 8 hORRAY— Lowkey had to turn to the game for a bit to figure out how I wanted to write this chapter hehe. Please note this chapter is a little bit more serious and heavy than usual. The names used here are fictional and I have no intent to post this chapter to glorify any form of harm. Rape and sexual assault will always be serious topics and should never be taken lightly. This is your final warning to read at your own risk and I am not responsible for any media you consume, dear reader, you have a responsibility and choice as to what content you read, and I urge you to never blame authors for that. As always, the end notes will have the outline of my thoughts if you wanted to read what my thought process was. ANYWAYS ENJOY! GOGOGOGOGOGOGO!
Song: Would've, Could've, Should've by Taylor Swift
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TLOU WORLD 2023
ABANDONED SUBURBAN HOUSE, COLORADO – EARLY MORNING
Snowflakes fell from the pale clouds, chilly sky as a crisp wind weaved through the buildings. The bitterness of winter, whalebone-white snow presented itself as an infinite blanket. The gravel-grey skies were bare, and the only sound you could occasionally hear was Joel’s uneven breathing. You had told her to leave you. Ellie didn’t accept that, she couldn’t bear the thought of losing either of you. She dragged both of your bodies next to each other on top of his sleeping bag, strapping and securing you together with rope as she rides her horse into the suburbs, dragging the reigns of your horse.
You managed to close your eyes for a bit, your vision getting a little blurry, and everything seems hazy, you hear the shattering of glass and when you open them again, you are now inside someone’s long-forgotten home. The garage is soaked with blood, and your horse shakes off snow from his head. You and Joel are placed on an old mattress in the basement of the house, as the pain had started to sink in. Breathing becomes a chore in itself. Each breath just gets shorter and shorter, when you try to take a deep breath your body refuses to let it in, a stabbing pain each time you try. Ellie is ripping out a piece of fabric, doing her best to stop Joel’s bleeding, she curses the whole time, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Come on, you gotta help me. Come on!” While doing so, Joel grabs her hand and painfully wheezes, “Leave. Leave.” Her tone is sharp as she hisses, “Shut up, Joel.” You try and say her name, only for a painful noise to come out of your mouth, “Ellie. Please.” She shakes her head at both of you and Joel breathlessly says, “Take the gun.” Panicked, while trying to multitask as she presses another cloth to your abdomen, “Joel, shut the fuck up!”
Joel grabs her by the collar of her shirt with the remaining strength that he had to bring Ellie to look at him, he weakly says, “You go. You go. You go north. You go to Tommy. You go.” She roughly pulls away from his grasp, falling to the ground with a loud thump. You turn your head to look at Joel who was bleeding out next to you. You can see the tears rimming his eyes, and he's almost comatose. Frail, you grab his hand, squeezing it as you tenderly gaze at him.
In response, she gets up and puts his jacket over him and your own as a blanket, and both of you are almost comatose. The warmth of blankets makes him nervous, suddenly things that are known to comfort him become destructive reminders of loss. Ellie's frustrated and walks upstairs, a kid on a mission, her belief that she could fix this over time, as if every imperfection is a lie, and you watch as a tear falls from Joel’s eye. Each breath you take is agonizing, the sharp stab each time you try to let in causes you to whimper in pain. You feel Joel’s rough hands squeeze your own, still trying to shield and protect you, despite him also hurting.
You see the longing in his eyes as he faces you, and you can’t quite put your finger on it. There’s just something about his face that makes you sad, as much afraid as it’s haunted. He shakily wraps his arm around you and tries his damn hardest to put pressure on your wound even though his energy is fading. You place your head on his chest, your ear right above his faint beating heart, he winces but doesn’t push you away. Instead, he gripped you as tightly as he could, pressing a featherlight kiss on your forehead, mumbling, “Tell me somethin’ good.” You shake your head, “You growin’ soft on me Cowboy?” His eyelids feel heavy as he spoke, “Only for… you. Always you.” You feel your tears slip faintly down your cheeks, “Out of all the things I’ve researched and discovered over the years… nothing will ever compare to what I found here.” The ache in his chest expands as he inhales and says, “Birdie… I…” You shush him delicately, “I’ve never related more to anything or anyone before… I can’t explain it. You are the best thing I never planned.”
Joel shudders in the basement, his breathing becoming shallow with each breath. Wave after wave, he’s more afraid. It’s been a hard year and it’s been a high tide, but his body decides one part at a time. But what about the meantime? How do you ignore the signs that the things you love will fade or get taken away? There's something so strange about human nature, you get so used to the gifts you receive. He is watching the tears slowly continue to slip out of your eyes as he breathes lightly next to you, he still has so much he wants to tell you and still has so much to figure out. When the words came to him for the first time, he knew he was hooked on you. Your quiet charm, the way your eyes crinkled as you smiled, the calmness and chaos you carried. He wanted it all with you. Could it be, you both didn’t stand a chance? How cruel could fate be? To have found you only to lose you in a matter of days.
What was flawless canvas white, and what was kindness in your eyes, is now a blemished masterpiece. You are X-rays of something broken, made up of cold blood and bruises. You noticed your hearing started to fade. In an underwater afterimage, the hearing effect is just a bit less heavy. As time went on the underwater hearing effect started becoming more strong and you barely start hearing people. Into the darkness, you will send your symphonies. A shorthand of existence, a slowly turning key, the voyager will leave you with this modest memory of home.
You believe you’ve seen a ghost, and you don’t know who it is. It just follows you around pretending to exist. Radical acceptance sure feels like surrender, but after just a little longer, everything will make sense. Broken things will be remade, there’s some kind of heaven just around the corner and all this sorrow and agony will be replaced with unimaginable grace. With the remaining strength you had, you took in his darkly golden eyes, a smoldering visage, and warmth like home. The muffled sounds of rapid and loud footsteps from upstairs, the clattering of drawers and cabinets. You take one more breath in, the small part of you has the glimmering light of hope but the shadows keep inviting you to their clutches, and to be honest, it seems so tempting to just give in.
You hear the suppressed sound of Ellie running down to the basement, rushing to your and Joel’s side, you subconsciously wonder what took so long or if she hesitated during the process of looking through the house for supplies. You can blurrily make out the vision of Ellie holding a needle and thread, you let out a small gasp and Ellie only looks at you with worry. Your eyes flutter close, unable to help yourself to watch as she shakily stitches up Joel, he groans in pain every now and then, while you listen to your own blood dripping onto the mattress and sliding down to the concrete floor. You slowly begin to seek comfort in the ensnares of the darkness.
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YOUR ORIGINAL OBSERVABLE UNIVERSE — JANUARY 13, 2023
WASHINGTON STATE UNIVERSITY, FUNDAMENTAL QUANTUM PHYSICS LAB — NIGHT
Ever since The Royal Swedish Academy of Sciences has decided to award the Nobel Prize in Physics 2022 to three scientists for experiments with entangled photons, establishing the violation of Bell inequalities and pioneering quantum information science. You were immediately intrigued by their findings and continued your own research with the given information. You sit in the dim lighting of the lab, and the glow of the screen hypnotizes you as you continue to scroll through the PDF file, text containing the explanation of quantum entanglement and the possibilities of quantum teleportation.
The mountains of paper, pencils, pens, and highlighters clutter around your large desk. You bring your arms up and stretch your lower back. Waiting for the possible outcome of the  computer-generated model, a theory could change how information is sent and transmitted, including transportation. You suddenly hear your other coworker, Alisha shakily call your name, and you spin your chair around to find her disheveled state. A bruised lip, her hair in a mangled mess, and her eyes red-rimmed, you look down at her once-white lab coat to find blood at the edges. Your eyes widen in concern, “Ali, what happened to–” You didn’t even get the chance to finish, she had made her way across the room to hug you and began to cry in your arms, falling apart piece by piece. You hear her beg and whimper broken words, “Please… Please don’t let him find me… He can’t…”
You then hear the yelling voice of her partner Richard, screaming her name through the halls, and soon enough, outside your door, you try to stand and lock it but since Ali was clinging onto you, you barely got up before the man came barreling through the door. You and Ali flinch at his arrival, wearing around his father’s hand-me-down anger. Your skin crawled and your bones rattled, your muscles screamed of a horror unseen. Ali’s breathing is shortened and you feel her skin become cold, your leg and arm muscles tightened. There is a sound coming from his mouth, but nothing registers as the ringing in your ears has appeared. He marches towards you and Ali, the taste of bile rose to your mouth and you swallowed, the acid rising and burning your throat.
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TLOU WORLD 2023
A COUPLE OF HOURS LATER…
ABANDONED SUBURBAN HOUSE, COLORADO — DAY
You wake up choking, the feeling of being smothered overwhelms your body as you try to gasp for air. Ellie is quick to your side, as you cry out in fear and pain, the awful memory of your past that you had buried, had been used against you in your sleep. You take some time to realize where you are, and Ellie is clutching your hand as you try and jerk forward, “Hey… Birdie… shhh… you’re okay,” she said as she gently pushes you down next to Joel. You shiver and whimper, “Ellie…” She shushes you again and lets you drink from a glass of water, you painfully gulp it down, and she gets you to try and eat a bit of food from the rations, you brought with you. Dizzily, you chew and swallow whatever you could, urging yourself not to puke on the teen. 
You turn your head back to Joel, who was shivering, and barely conscious, you weakly speak to Ellie, “Can you… please lift his shirt for me?” The young girl shifts to Joel’s side, doing what she was asked of, the sickly sound of blood that clings onto his flannel has your eyes looking down at the yellow puss seeping from the now closed and stitched-up wound. To put it plainly, everything fucking hurt. You wince as you bring your shirt up to check your abdomen, finding that it had also been patched up and luckily not as infected as Joel’s. You bring your shirt down and watch Ellie take care of Joel, tucking him back in his blanket, and giving him water and a bit of food left placed on top of his blanket. You hoarsely say, “We need an antibiotic for his wound. Are there any in the drawers upstairs? In the medicine cabinet… maybe?” Then teen shakes her head, “No, I checked everything.” You cough a little, before giving her a small nod. 
Ellie looks at the rifle leaning against the wall, and you hear her whisper to you both, “I’m gonna be right back… okay?” You try and call for her, but she doesn’t stop preparing her things, too focused on trying to get you and Joel better and moving. Her footsteps sound heavy as she makes her way upstairs while carrying the heavy rifle on one shoulder, you shudder as if you were seconds from breaking down from the orbit, gravity throws you down. She will discover that life will knock you down and wait for you to stand back up before kicking you in the stomach. But, the only way to make your lungs remember how much they relish the flavor of air is to knock you out completely. Underneath, there is hurt that cannot be soothed by poetry or bandages. Because no matter how wide you stretch your fingers, your hands will always be too small to catch all the pain you want to heal. You weakly grab Joel’s hand from underneath the green and white plaid blanket, squeezing it as you shakily say, “I don’t know if you can hear me… but if you can… Joel, you were good to me. If you're wondering why I've stayed—and for all I know, I'll stay—the truth is because the stars told me to.”
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A COUPLE OF HOURS LATER…
ABANDONED SUBURBAN HOUSE, COLORADO — SUNSET
You weren’t sure how long you slept, or how long Ellie had been gone. But you stir to the sound of Ellie’s footsteps running down the wooden creaking stairs. You blink your eyes open, She unzips her jacket and lays the rifle next to Joel, and pulls out a wrapped pouch. You hear the bottles clink as she unwraps them, and she tells you it’s penicillin, she then looks at you shaking your head, “Give it to Joel first.” Ellie sniffs and nods, peeling back the blanket that covers his pale body, you murmur out instructions, “Hold the syringe in your hand like a pencil, with the needle pointed up.” She does as she is told and you continue to guide her through it, “With the cap still on, pull back the plunger to the line on your syringe for your dose. Keep the syringe tip in the medicine. Tap the syringe with your finger to move air bubbles to the top. Then push gently on the plunger to push the air bubbles back into the vial.” As if she was an expert, she does everything perfectly, but she begins to panic about where she would administer the penicillin,  “Okay, the fuck do I put this, Birdie?” You exhale in pain but keep going, “Do not inject it into a vein. You need to administer it on a large muscle, either his back or his thigh.” Ellie exclaims, “I am not pulling down his pants!” You wince at her sudden yelling, and she’s quick to apologize, you groggily get up, everything was spinning but you needed to help her. You tell her, “Okay, turn around.” She does so, still holding the needle for you as you unbuckle his belt and carefully undress him, he groans and you try your best to ignore it. You focus on the task at hand, bringing his jeans down enough to see a portion of his thigh, “Do we have any… alcohol?” You ask and Ellie hands you Joel’s metal flask, your mouth forms a frown but you unscrew the cap and pouring a tiny amount of the vodka as an antiseptic, cleaning it off with the only clean rag left in your bag.
You ask for the needle from Ellie and she hands it to you. Your heart is racing, but you manage to inject him with the required amount of penicillin, you hear Joel sigh with a mix of pain and relief. You redress him quickly and mention to Ellie it’s safe to look again, she turns to see you sitting on the mattress again, watching Joel fall back asleep. You yawn in exhaustion, drearily blinking as you try and center yourself. Ellie says your name and you tiredly bring your eyes to her as she says, “There’s another needle if you wanted to…”
You nodded gratefully and followed the same procedure as before, Ellie turns around as you undressed a part of your jeans, quick to the point of just stabbing the needle into your thigh to get it over with, gritting your teeth as you pushed the plunger down, feeling the antibiotic entering in your system. You zip back up and lean back into the mattress, Ellie hearing you shift causes her to turn around again, and you gently pat the middle of the bed, indicating for her to lay down and rest. She is snug in the middle of you and Joel, her tiny arms wrapped around him, with you kissing the top of her head. Joel leans into her touch, resting his head above hers, and quietly breathes. Your tired eyes slowly close shut and allow yourself the comfort of the people around you.
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ABANDONED SUBURBAN HOUSE, COLORADO — MORNING
As thin as air and as light as snow. The sunlight streaming through the basement window causes you to stir awake once more, Ellie is sitting up in between you and Joel, and she asks, “Do you have to inject him again?” Tiredly, you nod and carefully push yourself up, raising a hand to his forehead to check his temperature. You lift a portion of the shirt while Ellie watches you move skillfully, you sigh in relief as you inspect the injury and the wound already looks slightly better and then you lift your own shirt to see your own abdomen healing as well, you look up to Ellie who tearily laughs, “Thank fucking God.” As you prepare to administer another dose of penicillin, Ellie puts on her jacket and beanie, “I’m gonna go outside and feed the horses, I’ll be back.” You smile, “Please be careful.” She nods and is quick to run up the steps, and you undress Joel once more to inject the antibiotic into his thigh. You place him back into his jeans and place the blanket over him again, wiping away the sweat from his brows as you try and catch your breath. You then let your hand slide down, cupping his cheek tenderly, “Come back to us, Joel. Please, we still need you.” Kissing his head and then laying down to rest next to him, allowing your body to melt with his, the past two days have drained most of your reserved energy, you drift off into a deep slumber.
The crows caw violently as they fly away from the approaching danger, the leaves shake and swirl all around and Ellie is quick to investigate. She hugs the fence and crouches down to see David and his men quickly approaching, searching for Ellie and her two guardians. She curses and dashes back to the house, her boots heavily thudding against the wooden steps down to the basement, she first tries to wake you, but you don’t even stir, you have no more energy to give, each part of you spent trying to care for both of them and barely trying to keep yourself alive. Ellie panics and turns to Joel, shaking and yelling at him, “Joel! Joel, wake up. Joel, wake the fuck up, Joel.”
Ellie moves away to unsheath the knife from his bag and Joel forces his eyes open, she moves back to place the large blade on his chest, grabbing his hand so he could hold it, saying, “Okay, okay, look at me. There are men coming, okay? Birdie isn’t waking up and she’s probably exhausted from all of this. I’m gonna lead them away from you two but if anybody makes it down here, you fucking kill them. You got it?” He does reply, still barely conscious and Ellie snaps her fingers at him, “Joel. Joel, do not fall asleep. She needs you to keep her safe. I need you to keep her safe. Do not fall asleep.”
There isn’t enough time to form a reply to Ellie, she instantly bolts up the steps, placing a large cabinet to block and conceal the basement entrance. His eyes close once more, like a final puzzle piece, It all makes perfect sense to him. The heaviness that he holds in his heart's been crushing him.
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ABANDONED SUBURBAN HOUSE, COLORADO — DAY
Joel hears the sound of footsteps from above, each thud causing him to jolt awake from his slumber, he tilts his head to find your beautiful figure stirring, as if your body senses the danger. He pushes himself up from the mattress, having one mission in mind, keeping you safe and alive. He shushes you, kissing away the lines on your forehead, and slowly they disappear. He hears the cabinet being moved, and quickly hides his figure, not enough time or strength yet to hide you as he limps to hide in the shadows.
The sound of floorboards creaks with each step the intruder takes, slowly approaching the landing of the staircase. He sees your resting figure deep asleep and quickly glances around the basement to see if the man who killed his friend was here. This was the moment Joel wished he was younger, quicker, and not in the worst fucking physical pain he has ever felt. The man approaches you, eyes glinting with starvation as he licks his lips, he dives onto you, nailed your wrists to the mattress, and covers your mouth as you screamed awake, shrieking and kicking, screaming for Joel. Your voice threw itself over the edge of your throat and landed at the bottom of your belly. The same way Richard did that night, you cry loudly as you continue to kick and struggle through the flashbacks of the past you had buried.
The sound of screaming from Ali haunts your mind as you hit Richard with all of your strength, he covers your mouth and you bite it fiercely, he curses and spits at you, “You fucking bitch. Come here.” You kneed him, hard, in the genitals, he folds over and you crawl over to the toolboxes on the table above you, he grabs your ankle and drags you back to him.  
You were fighting harder than before. The guy is removing his belt and pulling down his pants. You can barely contain your cries, a bird with a broken wing. You didn’t know when your being and body became something that took up too much space.
You kick him with your other foot again, using your fingernails and clawing his face and skin. This catches him off guard, releasing your ankle, you take the opportunity to grab a metal wrench, swing at him, and walloped him on the head, repeatedly, the crunch of his skull as you hack into him with every pent-up rage you had harbored over the years. Your anger often melts into sadness, it will just disintegrate into shame or fear, and your clenched teeth release into chatter. But he has found the right mix of arrogance and abuse. Telling you again how you are just not understanding the point, reminding you how he is an expert, touching your knee, thigh, and lower back, ignoring you twice, three times, continuing to talk over your screams and plea to stop. Some of us are born chasing disaster. From the moment you entered this world, screaming, you are looking for lightning, the raw of your body, always searching for clever hands.
Joel appears from the shadows, every fiber, every vein, pumping him full of adrenaline, and pure raw rage you have never seen before from him. His eyes were a deep rich black, and his eyebrows were pulled so close together, the lines on his forehead were so prominent as if they were canals and channels of rivers. He pulls the man off of your shaking body, and stabs the man from behind, hitting a part of his neck of the predator, he begins to struggle and you push yourself away from the fight, your back hitting the wall and trying to calm down to no avail. By the time the man has passed out, Joel rolls over to his side, pushing himself up and crawling to you.
When Joel makes it to your scared and confused figure, at first you try punching and kicking at him too, still in survival mode. But he manages to grab you and is desperately hauling you to his chest, one hand cradling your head, the other wrapped around your waist as you loudly wail and dry heave, he rocks your bodies back and forth and strokes your head, trying to soothe your hysteria, “I’m so sorry darlin’, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me, my sweet hummin’ bird. Shh, I’m here. I’m so, so, sorry. I’m right here.” 
You were sitting at the back of an ambulance vehicle, a blanket placed over you, the flashing lights and sirens blending together with the occasional radio chatter from an officer. The blood on your hands had dried and stuck to your skin, across from you Ali was giving her statement on what had happened as an EMT continued to check over you, finding bruises on every part of your body. Strangely enough, you felt numb, there was no ounce of guilt or remorse for what had occurred and transpired. You look up at the officer, his pity radiates off of him, and you barely hear him ask for your statement only for the EMT to shoo him off, telling him to come back later, you were still in shock.
You slowly raise your chin, eyes dancing at the sight of the commotion. Like blueprints constantly being rearranged, over microscopes you plan and strain. But every sighting is proof and every heartbeat proves it too.
When it hurts too much, you might fall in love with someone with only one touch. The light shines brightest in the darkest places. Even if truth weighs more than fiction, gravity lifts as the projectionist rolls the tape and you become brave once more. You persevered despite the dangers and never-ending tight escapes, and you are still alive. Nobody will ever be able to comprehend the struggles you had to go through inside just to recover, just to develop, to get to where you are now. Be proud of yourself for battling to save yourself. Be proud of how you managed to survive.
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THE ABANDONED SUBURBS, COLORADO — DAY
Joel eventually manages to calm you down, centering you, he tells you, “Darlin’, we need to find Ellie. Okay? You have to continue being brave for me, okay? Can you do that?” He wipes away your tears as you nod, he kisses your forehead and holds your face gently, “There’s my girl. C’mon.” He gets the both of you to stand, and you both drag the man up the steps, not caring if he would sometimes groan in pain. You didn’t have a very violent side, it takes a lot to push you to your limits, but when it does burst out of you, it happens in one go, and it is a blur each time you lash out.
The rattling of the branches causes your ears to perk up in alertness, and Joel lets the predator thump loudly upon the cold snow on purpose. Joel asks you to hide behind the shed, wanting to take care of the other man himself. You hear a voice call out, “Timothy?” And you spot the second raider walking through the broken fence, taking the bait as he spots who you now know as Timothy struggling face down on the crisp white snow, “Oh, shit.” He kneels on the ground to try and help his friend, but Joel comes at him with a force so strong as he hits the man on the head with the butt of the rifle, he falls to the ground instantly and becomes unconscious.
Both of you work together to prop the both of them up into the house, taping both of them with duct tape, and Joel needs to do the rest of the work out of guilt and shame, forcing you to wait down on the steps of the basement. You hear him beating the shit out of Timothy, and he wails in pain with every strike, “Stop, stop. Please.” Your lips form a line and hug your body as you decide to quietly walk up the steps, peeking at the sight.
Your mouth parts open, watching Joel’s violence happen in front of you in real-time. A satisfying crunch could be heard with each punch Joel throws at your assailant, you take a good long look at your man, and can’t help the way your breathing quickened at the thought of him protecting you and trying to save Ellie from these bastards. There is no evil in Joel’s eye, just pure focus and exhaustion. You hear the other voice beg, “Leave him alone.” To which Joel roughly replies, “You’re next.” He pulls out the knife from his back pocket and Timothy begs, “Please, I don’t know any girl.” Joel stabs him in the knee and he yells in pain, “Oh, fuck!” And the other attacker exclaims, “Jesus!” You feel goosebumps rise from every portion of your skin and try to steady your breathing once more. Timothy calls for his friend, “Marco!” And Joel grabs Timothy by his hair, roughly pulling it to get him to look at the man you cared for, his voice drops lower, “No, no, no. He can’t help you. You focus right here. Or I’ll pop your fuckin’ kneecap off.”
If Joel asked you anything in that tone, you would do anything in a heartbeat. You smile knowingly but quickly shake your head at those thoughts, needing to find Ellie. “She’s alive,” Timothy says as he is dripping in blood and the taste of copper buzzes in the air. Joel shakes his head as he asks, “Where?” Timothy doesn’t immediately respond to which Joel twists the knife impaled in his knee, and he begins to cry in pain, “Fuck! Fuck! The town!” Joel's voice booms so loudly, you watch as his spit flies in the air, the room felt like it was shaking and every part of your body felt the vibrations as he yelled, “What town?!” Timothy pants in fear and pain, “Silver Lake.” Joel pushes his head backward and cries out in ache. 
Joel pulls out the map from his back pocket and unfolds it, Timothy begins to stumble over his words as he spoke, “It’s not a real town name. It’s a resort.” Joel’s eyes narrow, “A resort?” Then he quickly pulls the knife from his kneecap, the blood squirting out as he does, Timothy is crying out again but your eyes only watch how efficiently Joel moves. He stands and shoves the handle of the knife into Timothy’s mouth, and your posture shifts, you are now blinking wildly at his actions, and the unexpected rush of heat flows in every direction of your body, you swallow in anticipation.
Joel’s voice is gruff and grave as he instructs him, “You’re gonna point to where we are and where you’re ‘resort’ is. And it better be the exact same spot your buddy points to.” Timothy cries as he nods and the muffled sound of his reply, ”Okay.” He does as he is told, his blood becoming the markers of where you are and where you were now heading. Timothy drops the knife from his mouth, letting it fall to his lap, “That’s where we are. I swear.” Joel falls to his knees as he takes in the information, looking down directly at the map and then his hard gaze looks up as Timothy continues to beg, “Go ask him. He’ll tell you. I’m not lying.” There is no moment to react as Joel takes the knife, stands up, and stabs him right through the chest, he wails and screams, and you inadvertently flinch in shock, Joel twists the knife, letting his anger take over. Marco cries out to Joel, “No, No! Shit! Jesus! No! Why the fuck would you do that?! He told you what you wanted!”
Joel walks over to the chair on the side and grabs the rusty metal pipe atop it. The man you have journeyed with, kissed, and cared for is now pushed to his limits. He is tall and domineering over Marco as he squirms and curses at him, “You motherfucker. Fuck you. I ain’t tellin’ you shit.” Joel nods, his voice as bold as whiskey, deep and rich, “You see that woman over there by the corner, watchin’? That’s my girl. Your buddy over there was gon’ touch what is mine. And no one fuckin’ touches anythin’ that’s mine.”
Your eyebrows raise and your breathing lazily declines, as your system creates sparks and tingles all over your skin. The very sensitive part of you aches for Joel, and you allow yourself to lust over him. He claimed you right here, you are his girl, and anyone who hurts you would pay the price. A brutal and torturous death.
“And you know what, it’s okay. I believe him.” Joel said, and raises the pipe and Marco begs, “No, no. No!” The crunching sound of his skull being pried open, Joel using every bit of muscle and strength as he beats him to his death, blood splatters on the wall and the floor, he lets out his rage, and you enjoy every bit of violence that he exhibits right now, knowing he would never hurt you, just the people who threatened you and Ellie’s safety.
By the time Joel drops the pipe to the ground, you are no longer peeking around the corner, you are visibly standing a few feet away behind him, as his broad shoulders rise and fall from his heavy breathing. You are well aware of the shadows in your heart, but you want to feel tectonic shifts and as he turns to face you, he sees the wide-eyed beautiful woman he has given his heart to, not a single bit afraid, yet he can’t help but ask, “So you know all about me?” You nod, “Yes.” He questions, “And you still want me?” You close the distance between the both of you, gently cupping the side of his face. There is no hesitation in your response, “I want you all the more.”
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You pack what you can and trek through the snow, the blizzard, and the wind is harsh and colder, you and Joel stumble about but keep pushing on, trying to get to Ellie on time. Joel holds your hand in his, guiding you to the resort on the map, he clutches a stone pillar of an establishment, and you tug his sleeve as you spot the trail of blood staining the icy snow. You and he follow the bloody path and break into the locked door that the trail leads to with the butt of his rifle, ushering you inside and then slamming the large wooden door shut. You and Joel catch your breath, and turn on your flashlights, letting them shine through the dark. You both have your guns drawn at the ready, inspecting the building, Joel crouches down to the bottom shelf, finding Ellie’s pack. You walk deeper into the dark house, following the trail of blood, and pushing past the doors. He finds both of your horses inside, the room and you blink away the tears as you continue to try and be brave. You tiredly bring your flashlight up to hear the weird creaky noise from behind the canoes, you feel Joel behind you as he also points his flashlight to a gruesome sight.
Every step you took was a confirmation, needing to reassure yourself that this was actually in front of you, you had known there was a character named David who was a cannibal but were not fully aware when that would happen or if it would even occur. You  cannot utter the careful words that you needed, you could barely speak out loud. Your heart pounded, your head spun and your eyes saw the three human bodies tied up by their ankles without any heads. It took everything in you not to throw up right there, feeling the reflex crawl up your throat, holding back from gagging at the sight in disgust. Joel stands there speechless as he stares at the dangling corpses, you reach for his hand for comfort, and he squeezes your own as you shakily breathe in and out.
You both exit the building, and point your nose up in the air, smelling for smoke so you can follow the trail back to a burning house. You and Joel rush to the source of the grey clouds of smoke and hear the loud door opening, Ellie’s shaken figure dazedly walking away from the scene. Joel swiftly catches up to the teen and grabs her from behind, which causes Ellie to go back into fight mode, she kicks and screams, “No! Get off of me!” She squirms in his arms, screaming and begging, “Get off!” Joel turns her around, and it takes her a bit to calm down and realize it’s you and Joel, “It’s me.” Joel says and Ellie falls to her knees crying, and punching him. He holds Ellie’s head in her hand, saying, “It’s me. Hey, look. It’s me. It’s me. It’s okay.” And Ellie almost can’t speak, as she hugs him, finally feeling safe. At this moment, Joel says, “It’s okay, baby girl. I got you.”
Though not the promised land, nor any perfect plan along your neutral path, there was a single lowered branch. Your ears are ringing at the slightest sound. Like a huge piano descending a million stairs slowly. The noises it produces, however, are only the growing pains of mending. You bring your arms around Ellie, and as the three of you hug, ​​every wrong will be made right, what was adamant, even permanent will have a change of heart and mind. In your disbelief, you'll clear your eyes as if you're seeing light for the very first time. Joel pulls away quickly to remove his jacket to place it over Ellie, holding his backpack in his other hand. The three of you walk away from the smell of smoke, miles away, clutching each other afraid and vulnerable, three panicked souls in the cold, for now, the dissonance disappears.
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END NOTES
HORRAY VIOLENCE! (this is a joke- do I need to explain that-) I know, I KNOW THE CHAPTER IS SOOO SHORT PLS THERE WERENT ENOUGH SCENES CALMMMM IM JUST AS SAD but there is only so much I can dOOooo Many songs, quotes, and poems inspired me for this chapter HNGGG THESE WERE VERY VERY exPLICIT AND vIOLENT scenes to write and convey. Some parts of the story were taken from experiences I personally had by literally existing as a woman. The feeling of being unsafe and being taken advantage of is a sad and harsh reality of this world.  YAY FOR TAKING CARE OF JOEL AND GUIDING ELLIE… EVEN THOUGH MF UR STILL INJURED TOO GIRL CHILLLLL RIP HORSEY NOOOOOOOO At first, when I was writing this chapter for both Episodes 7 and 8, I was like, “Fuck, maybe I made a wrong call, Birdie shouldn’t have gotten hurt and should’ve got captured with Ellie.” And then I sat and thought about that for a good 3 hours, and realized that it would be a huge mistake, because Ellie and Joel still needed their resolve, meaning Ellie had to survive on her own for a while. Because there will be times when adults can’t always protect or shield their child from inevitable pain or problems. And essentially, you and Joel already had your own moment last chapter tehe David had it comin’ and only had hiMSELF TO BLAMEEEEE FUCK YOU CREEP, PREDATOR, ABUSER, STINKY MF MAN, YOU GOT WHAT YOU DESERVED yEaHHHH GET HIM ELLIE!  Bella Ramsy shrieking as she drives the knife into his chest multiple times, and then her last note faltering at the end, absolutely shattered every bit of my being, I love her, she’s so fucking talented, 5/5 stars cast mwah &lt;;3 The way I would give literally anYTHING TO BE HUGGED BY PEDRO LIKE THAT IN COMFORT T^T damn aGHHHH hORRAY MORE PARARALALALLELS WITH YOU AND ELLIE! Fighting for your life and your friend's life in that lab, at this point the school should pay for your therapy bill lol fUCK U RICHARD Also, it’s important to note, the night in that lab was a highly traumatic experience for Birdie, so she essentially froze a tiny bit when she felt like it was happening again. feel free to send me an ask if you have any kweschons, quonserns or klarifiqaystions :> - Grace
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callmewrinkles3 · 8 months
Text
I Can See You - DR3 x Fem!OC
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Masterlist
Summary: The world feels like it’s ending, but one thing is for sure. Em knows that Dan isn’t going to leave her behind, no matter what’s going on. So she’s going to follow him wherever they go.
Warnings: covid-19, pining, pandemic talk, visa worries, unrequited love.
Wordcount: 8.9k
A/N: Guess who’s back! Apologies for the delay, it’s been a weird time for us. But we’re back and we hope this more than makes up for the delay. Let us know what you think!!
March 2020
Em really had no idea how she let Dan convince her to come up to his driver room and close the door behind her. It was the first proper day back in the paddock at a race weekend, one of the if not the busiest weekend for him thanks to his home race, but even with all of that happening he wanted her. Dan wanted her right there against the wall in that tiny room, not caring that the world was outside waiting for him.
She had no idea what excuse he invented or what lie he’d said, she really didn’t care even though she should have known it so she could confirm when she went downstairs. But he was one of the few people who could make black and yellow look so good, mixed with his longer than normal hair and the stubble that had her rubbing her legs together under her dress. He carried himself with complete confidence as he walked through the paddock, Em beside him holding her iPad and ever present bag. It had her daydreaming about what Dan was going to do to her once they were back at the hotel, helped along with his cocky smile and the way he winked at her every single time he caught her eye. It made her need to bite her lip and stare at her tablet, forcing the flush that wanted to fill her cheeks down. It didn’t stop her underwear getting ruined thanks to the little touches that had her in the palm of his hand. Hours of Dan putting an arm around her shoulder during breakfast, a hand on her waist as he walked by, running his fingers along her thigh under the table when they had lunch.
When Dan said he needed to run over his schedule for the weekend with her so they’d be left alone while the boys went to do something and his family sat in hospitality she decided to believe that they’d actually be doing work. She shouldn’t have, but she didn’t regret it in the slightest. As soon as the door was shut her back was against it, Dan’s lips moving along her jaw to her neck and down to her collarbones. As she groaned out his name his hands were on her ass, lifting her against him to wrap her legs around his waist. She should have known this would happen as soon as she decided to wear a dress that morning.
She had known that Dan wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off her, but she thought he would have glued himself to her when they made it back to the hotel. She never thought it would have been so soon. Em definitely didn’t think that he’d have dragged her alone when the paddock was buzzing and hospitality was full of people. But his impatience was just one of the reasons why he lifted her dress up before dropping to his knees in front of her. The other reason was the black knee length skater dress that she decided to wear.
She wanted to look good on her first day back at work. It was the first day of her first full season working as part of Dan’s team, and she wanted to look nice. The rest of the year she’d probably wear one of her Renault shirts and jeans, but at least that first day when she was working with some of Dan’s sponsors she wanted to look good and show she was there from Dan rather than the team. She really should have known that the dark material would have ended up bunched around her waist. But she didn’t think about consequences or rumours stemming from what she was wearing, or the rumours running around the paddock. She couldn’t, not when the man she loved more than anyone ever in her life was fucking her like it was the last thing he’d do in his life.
All she could feel was Dan’s lips against her skin and his hands holding her up by her ass. The noise of the paddock disappeared behind the sounds of their moans as Dan kept repeating her name while he buried himself deeper and deeper inside of her. There was no gap between where Dan ended and she began, his grin against her lips while she kissed him in a desperate attempt to keep quiet. Her fingers lightly pulled his hair, feeling the way he nipped at her lower lip in response. There was nothing as beautiful as the way Dan smiled at her just after they finished, probably moments away from being discovered but still happy and at ease with her.
They were an absolute mess and Em fully knew it, but she loved every single second of it. To see Dan so happy after the difficult first few months he’d had at Renault was everything. All she wanted was for him to be happy, and if hiding in a room just the two of them made him happy then it was perfect. Even if she knew everyone would think that they’d been having sex as soon as they stepped out of the room.
“We’re a mess,” Em whispered, kissing his temple as Dan hid his face in her shoulder to pepper her neck with kisses.
“You just say that because you’re dripping in no time?” He joked, winning a nudge from her shoulder dislodging his head as he stared up at her.
“You better clean the mess you made, sir.”
“Emmyyyyyy don’t call me that when we don’t have time to fully enjoy ourselves. But you know I always clean up after myself.”
It was one last kiss before Dan got Em back on her feet, tugging some tissues from the box on the table to clean her up. It was something he did every single time, kissing Em’s legs while he made sure she was ready to go. Once they were all dressed and looked presentable again Dan pulled Em into a hug before she could open the door. She had no idea where it came from but she wasn’t going to complain at all if they got an extra minute or two. She hugged him back, resting her head against his chest as he held her tightly and she pushed a kiss just over his heart like she did every single night before she fell asleep. The spell was broken by a harsh knock on the door, the two of them stepping apart as if they were doing something illegal.
She couldn’t help but smile when Dan kissed the tip of her nose after she rubbed the tiny trace of light pink lipstick left on his lips. One of the magical things about them was that they were able to have an entire conversation without saying a single word. It was one of those situations, giving each other a nod to know they were ready to go. Em took five seconds to straighten her skirt and grab her iPad while she shook her hair out to make it look like it was artfully messy, not like it was sex hair. Dan ran a hand through his curls and fixed his shorts and then they were ready to pretend that they’d actually been working and talking about the driver’s briefing happening in an hour. When Dan opened the door she was ready to see any of Dan’s family on the other side, but the last person Em expected to see was Michael. Considering the look on Dan’s face he wasn’t expecting to see him either. Em pretended it was completely normal, throwing a “hey Mikey” over her shoulder as she left the room with the two men in it. She also pretended that she didn’t hear the “what the fuck, mate?” coming from Michael behind her.
She had no idea if what they were doing was obvious or not and she honestly didn’t care. All she did for the rest of the day was work, meeting the CEO of GoPro and bringing him around hospitality and talking to him about how Dan would be out shortly. It was easy to pretend that the most popular man in the city hadn’t been on his knees for her earlier.
Em kept convincing herself that it wasn’t their fault for what was happening. They’d spent literally every single day together since she’d asked Dan if he was still ok with her travelling with him after Monza. Every night they shared a bed. And if all of that wasn’t enough she’d spent most of the Christmas break all over him in Australia. The same way he had the year before he took her to a rented beach house a two hour drive away so they could be alone for a couple of days. There was no people, no distractions - not even her work iPad. It was summer days spent mostly naked and in bed all over each other. Even when they were on the farm it was the two of them back together alone unless Isaac or Isabella were staying with them. When they were with family or friends they said they were just friends, a facade that barely lasted long enough for them to be alone again.
There was no going back to reality after that trip. There was no stopping what they were doing when they went back to London and Dan didn’t even attempt to go back to his apartment, ordering takeout for them to be delivered to Em’s apartment. Even in testing in Barcelona she spent more time in Dan’s room than even pretending to be in her own. They were happy to be in their little bubble, and considering the bad news that kept coming from the real world Em was more than happy to stay there.
The news about coronavirus was getting louder and louder, and even in the paddock the rumours were spreading about McLaren and Haas staff. It was going crazy and Em hated it. Her anxiety was spiking every time a well meaning person started trying to ask about it, news from Italy that Ferrari staff had mentioned sounded hellish. Dan was the only one who was really able to keep her grounded. He made the noise go away, helping her to stay optimistic even though it felt like the world was falling apart.
As soon as they were back in the hotel she could feel herself getting more and more worried. There were rumours from home that the Premiership was going to stop matches from taking place, Austria, Ireland, Italy, and Spain had all announced that schools and offices should close. The whole day rumours about the race and the season being cancelled had spread like wildfire, and McLaren pulling out because of the positive case terrified her. Nobody would confirm anything, instead waiting for last minute information to arrive which caused the rumours and speculation to get louder and louder. It felt like more and more sports were cancelling their seasons, it felt logical for F1 to cancel theirs too. But the FIA and logic didn’t go together so there was no news. She wouldn’t have been surprised if they decided to keep going.
Dan kissed her head before going to take his shower, and Em turned on the tv for a few minutes. Five seconds later she wished she hadn’t. The news was talking about rising cases and numbers of ill and dying people in new countries. It was travelling before people realised and people were dying so fast it was terrifying. More countries were telling people to go home and talking about closing borders and stopping flights. New Zealand were organising flights to get citizens home.
That’s when the fear started to kick in, but she buried it down so she could get through dinner with everyone. She wasn’t Australian. Everyone she cared about was - Dan, his family, Blake and Michael who’d basically become brothers to her in everything except name - but she wasn’t. Dan made jokes that she was an honorary Aussie thanks to her trips to Perth, but it wasn’t true. Her passport was British, she was close to running up on the time she was allowed to be in Australia for on her visitor visa, and she’d have to leave. She’d have to go home on her own. She forced herself to calm as she changed, turning off the tv and putting one of her true crime podcasts on to make her get through the evening.
Once the mains were finished at dinner, Em excused herself and left earlier than she normally would. She wanted to see them, loved having Isabella on her lap as she ate one handedly because the little girl was clingy, but she was exhausted. Em spent too long yawning over her plate and felt terrible about it. The beginning of the season was always stressful, and that plus the jet lag because they didn’t get to have time in Perth before the first race, and not knowing what she was going to do was exhausting her. The uncertainty of not knowing if she’d get to stay with Dan felt like a nightmare. It was hugs and kisses goodnight, apologising again for being tired, and Em got in the lift back up to their room from the hotel restaurant. She got into a quick shower, not bothering to wash her hair but wanting to get the grime of the day off, before putting clean underwear and a tee on.
Dan somehow always knew when Em really needed him and that night was no different, Dan opening the room door ten minutes after she’d gotten under the duvet.
“What are you doing here?” Em asked, muting the ABC News channel as he pulled his shirt off.
“We were all heading up anyway, Mum told me to go to bed cause I’m up early in the morning. Renault PR texted me a new schedule, they want me at the track for seven thirty.”
It screamed an excuse to Em, no text from Renault who would usually send it to her first, but she wasn’t complaining. He went into the bathroom to brush his teeth and Em unmuted the tv, eyes staring at the rising European case number graphs.
She started to feel her heart rate rising with the terror of what was going on, but before she knew what she was doing the bathroom door was open and Dan slipped into the bed beside her, arms around her and pulling her close. Her back was against his chest while his hands were warm against her stomach and it felt like the world had disappeared. Even if it was only for a few moments.
“What did we say about you watching the news after dinner?” He murmured as he pushed kisses to her jaw. Em closed her eyes to feel the sensation, the smell of the shower gel he’d stolen from her surrounding them as she began to relax.
Dan was right. They had a deal that involved Em not watching the news at night. She could watch any true crime documentary or crime show that existed and she could sleep like a baby, but the news gave her nightmares and stopped her usually not great sleep. Dan said it was because she was so empathetic and that was why it happened. But whatever caused it, they made a deal after one particularly bad night when Dan woke to Em sobbing and shaking in her sleep.
“I know. I just…the world is falling apart. It’s terrifying. I’m scared, Danny.” It was hard for her to admit that to him and he just pulled her closer.
“It won’t fall apart, Emmy. It’s getting crazy out there but it won’t be that bad.”
“Maybe not. But they’re talking about Australia closing their borders. What if I have to go back to London alone?” Her voice cracked and she hated it but there was nothing she could do about it.
“I go back with you.”
“Dan-”
“I go back with you. There’s no discussion about it, we say goodbye to people and we go back together. But it won’t happen, right? We won’t be separated. And no more news for you, little miss. C’mon, did you take your melatonin? Let’s go to bed.”
The mix of a melatonin gummy, sheer exhaustion, jet lag, and Dan’s hugs and kisses on her forehead had Em falling asleep in no time. For a race weekend that was a miracle. When she woke up there was a moment of absolute bliss where she could forget about the world outside their bed. All she had to be aware of was that the handsome man snoring by her side was her Danny. Too soon the alarm on his phone went off too loudly in the silent room and it was back to reality and the mess that was the world. On any day she would say she wanted to stay in bed with Dan rather than go to a busy paddock. There was nothing she liked less than strangers pointing cameras and phones at them, asking for Dan’s autographs and Em getting looks from jealous women when she wasn’t in team gear. There had been one confirmed case in the paddock and probably more. She didn’t want the man she loved there. She didn’t want his family there, she didn’t want their friends there. She didn’t want to be there. But if Dan was going, she was going.
She could tell how Dan didn’t want Em or his family in the paddock either. Trying to convince everyone else to stay in the hotel or do something away from the paddock full of people was surprisingly easy. It was still unclear if there’d be a race or not so she watched as he told his family not to go. If it did happen they could come for Saturday and Sunday and the fun parts, but they didn’t need to be there for just practices on Friday. But while he was trying to convince them she could tell that he was trying to find a way to convince her too. The gears were whirring behind tired eyes, she could practically see his brain working overtime. He was overthinking all of it, but no matter what he said her answer was going to be the same.
“So I was thinking you could stay here with everyone? Pack our things in case we need to leave fast?”. Em wanted to laugh. She really didn’t think he would try an excuse like that. At least she thought that he’d try a smoother excuse, but really nothing was good enough. Especially considering she had a job to do. She was just glad he waited for Michael and Blake to get up from the table to get coffees for everyone.
“Do you really think I’m letting you go without me?” Em didn’t even lift her head from the email she was reading to respond. She knew that if she looked up he’d give her the big brown puppy eyes and he’d try convince her, so instead she swapped to the schedule for the day. Covid or not she was sticking to it till she was told otherwise.
“There’s not gonna be much to do anyway. You may as well stay here.”
“You’ve seen the news, Dan. What if there’s a case and they lock the paddock down? Or the hotel? What if we get separated and I can’t get back to you?” She bit the bitter taste of panic back as she looked at him at last, worry filling his face.
“Hey, I’m always gonna come back to you. Always. Forget what I said, ok? We’ll stick together. We’ll figure it all out later.”
“Just keep me by your side. Please? I…Danny just promise me you won’t leave me alone.” Asking it felt impossible but his smile lit her insides up in a ridiculous way.
“I’m never gonna do that.” She let the breath she didn’t know she was holding out and smiled.
“You mean it?”
“I promise.” Dan grabbed her hand, squeezing it under the table. “You know, right?”
“I know.” It was quiet between them until Em spotted Blake on his way back with two cups of coffee in his hand, needing to have conversation so the mood wasn’t so heavy. “What did you do last night when I fell asleep? You look tired.”
“Nothing really. You know what I’m like before the first race of the season, I couldn’t sleep straight away. Plus you looked too cute so I was a creep and watched you sleep.”
“Silly. Thanks, though.”
They held hands extra tightly that morning on the way to the circuit. Dan acted like he didn’t care about Blake and Michael sitting in the front seats, and if she was honest with herself Em really didn’t care about them either. The world was falling apart but Dan was holding her hand and they were together. He’d promised that he wasn’t going to separate from her or let someone take her away. She may not believe in much, but she believed in Dan when he gave his word. Especially to her.
It was probably anxiety and a little bit of paranoia, but Em spent the drive insisting she was fine staying in Dan’s driver room to work rather than down in hospitality. Her anxiety was too high for her to be happy around people so staying alone and in the quiet was better. At least until there was definite news about what was happening. Dan didn’t discuss it either, just pushing kisses to her knuckles as they drove through the Melbourne traffic. As soon as they pulled into the parking spot the just friends persona came down over both of them, letting go and Em getting into her professional mode.
Like any other Friday she took a deep breath while she walked with Blake, Dan and Michael in front of them waving to the Netflix cameras and Dan giving autographs. It was little waves from afar as they reached the black hospitality, Michael going to check the garage and make sure an icebath was ready and Blake going to check for some visitors. Dan walked up to the room with her, holding the door open and watching as she got settled in.
“You should go chat to Cyril, see if the FIA have any news or made a decision. Then there’s a PR meeting with Esteban in 20, and after that it’s ESPN, Dazn, Sky, and Channel 4. In that order.” She felt like she was put together as she talked but turning to see Dan made her feel like she wasn’t.
“Everyone’s gonna ask about coronavirus, right?”
“Probably, it’s all anyone’s talking about. PR will give you the line to use, it’ll be something along the lines of ‘as long as all precautions are taken then we should be safe to race’.” Dan rolled his eyes while shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
“Can I get a hug before I go?” She hadn’t even opened her arms when he pulled her close, Em standing between his legs as he leaned against the massage table.
“I’ll be here if you need me, I’m a text away Danny. But you need to go.”
“Just a minute.” It was more kisses pushed to her forehead and ear before he whispered his plans. “I’m getting us to Perth if shit goes bad. Us on the farm, you can break in the new kitchen fully cause we didn’t have long over Christmas.”
Em froze. It felt so perfect to her, the two of them on the farm together, getting to relax and be together and happy. It was too good to be true. Literally. “I can’t. My visa, I don’t have much time on it because of how long I’ve been here. I have to go back.”
“Fixed it.” She shot her head up to look at him. “Under special circumstances it can be changed to twelve months instead of three, so I applied for it for you last night.”
“What?”
“Nobody is taking you away from us. I’m not letting it happen. Blake and I talked already, if it doesn’t get approved we’re going back to London. You’re not going alone.” She knew the awe was on her face from his words. Her sweet, brilliant man who had fixed her worries without even knowing about them. Before she knew what to say his phone started ringing.
“Dan…”
“I can’t, Emmy. I can’t let it happen. I promised earlier that I’m not gonna leave you alone, and I mean it. I’m not leaving you.”
“Dan! Your phone.” She nudged him at the vibrating device, Michael’s name on screen.
“Leave it.”
“Want me to answer?” He nodded and she picked it up, holding onto him as she slid the answer bar.
“Hey Michael, it’s Em…he’s got his hands full at the moment, I’ll fill him in. We’ll meet you in hospitality in ten, is that ok? Perfect, see you there.” She hung it up, putting it back down on the massage table and holding onto Dan. “Danny?”
“Yeah?” His voice was flat and she knew that he knew what she was going to say.
“The race is officially cancelled.”
“Good.” His hands gripped her tighter, pulling her into him. Em nuzzled against his chest, holding onto the one solid thing in her world before asking what they were doing. “Five minutes of this. Then the hotel and pack. There’s a plane on standby out in Avalon to take us all home. Than the farm. I figure we’ll have to separate from most people, but we can do it.”
“Sounds good to me.” She moved a curl from in front of his eyes, realisation filling her. “That’s why you didn’t sleep last night.”
“I needed a plan.” His head was nuzzled into her neck as he spoke and she just held him to give all the comfort she possibly could. “You still should have told me.”
“I got it. You don’t need to worry, I’m making sure you’re ok. If the world as we know it is ending then it ends with us together, right?”
She should have sent him out to see what was going on, either going with him to work out what they were doing next or packing the little bits that had been taken out of their bags. She should have been finding Blake and Michael. But she just couldn't let him go. His words were echoing in her head, running wild and all she could do was kiss Dan as he held her. It wasn't even the start of a makeout session, just enjoying what was going to be one of their last moments alone. Small kisses with their lips pressed against each other, holding on together. The farm was big but if the boys were staying with them then privacy was going to be out the window in no time. There'd be no shared bedroom, nothing like they had, and she'd have to quickly get used to it. She loved the boys but if they had to stay locked down for days or weeks like the news out of Europe was saying then she might go insane.
Like almost every time they had some privacy in a paddock there was a knock on the door to interrupt them. Dan called for whoever was there to come in, not untwining himself from Em. His hands were under her shirt, glued to the skin on her waist as they were in each others arms. They needed that closeness and togetherness that only they could provide for each other. That day it didn't matter who was coming in and would see them like that. She heard the rumours from the paddock, people thinking they were together. Most of Renault knew that there was something going between them, but the team kept their secret. It wouldn't be strange for any of them to see them together. She never went around holding hands or hugging closely, but nobody was ever surprised to see Dan hanging out of her.
But it wasn't a random member of Renault staff, it was Michael who opened the door and stared at them. She'd known him for more than two years and Em knew that he wasn't happy looking at them.
"What's up? I thought I said we were meeting in a couple of minutes?" She lifted up slightly from Dan who kept a hold of her.
"Blake's looking for you." At that Dan let her go, Em pulling her black and yellow shirt down and turning around. "Not you, Em. He wants Dan."
"Cool, hospitality?" Michael nodded and Dan squeezed Em's hip briefly. "Get your stuff ready cause we're leaving as soon as we can. Will you call Mum and Dad for me and tell them to pack up? Please?"
"I'm on it, I'll tell them we'll see everyone in the hotel in an hour? That way the kids don't get too confused. I've got your backpack and the rest of your things."
"Thanks, Emmy."
"Go. Take care out there, yeah? Don't touch anything unless you have to."
It was one last hand squeeze and a wink that his heart wasn't in as he left the room, Michael following quickly behind him. Em was completely confused while she packed their things, picking up phone chargers and one of Dan's hoodies to put into his bag. She had no idea why Michael looked so mad when he saw them cuddling. As little as she liked remembering it he had literally walked in on them in China the year before. He knew that they were sleeping together but he seemed like it was a surprise to see them like that. She'd been clear about where she was going to spend the day, and Dan had insisted he'd come check on her whenever he could. Thinking about his reaction just made her sad, so instead she finished getting the bags together. Hotel, pack her suitcase, make sure she hadn't left anything behind, and to the plane. She could do this. She could do it.
A quick phone call to Grace to fill her in on Dan's plans was the first thing she did once she packed, giving the heads up for everyone to pack up and be ready. It was a last double check of everything before putting Dan's backpack on one shoulder and Blake's on the other, her handbag over her elbow. She possibly could have managed Michael's bag too, but she decided to be petty. If he was going to act annoyed when he had no reason to be then she was leaving his stuff behind.
Like they promised they were all back at the hotel within an hour, heading straight up to pack. It was as she was zipping up her case that she realised the one thing she'd forgotten. Blake.
He wasn't from Perth. He wasn't even from WA. He was from the east coast, spending his holidays with family there. And now she was planning on escaping to Perth and what was her brother going to do? She relied on him to keep her sane in work and her private life. Dan came up behind her as she pushed down on the case, staring at it.
"Emmy? What's up?"
"I...eh. What's happening with Blake? Is he coming to the farm too? Or is he going home?"
"Do you want him to come with us?"
"Yeah," It was hard to say, Dan grabbing her hand as she did. "What if he's far away and something happens to him? Or us? Is it selfish?"
"It's not selfish, he's worried about us too. I'm pretty sure he wants to come anyway, lemme call him." She watched Dan ring Blake, the phone barely ringing before Dan blurted out his plan. The smile made Em relax, Blake was coming with them. It was going to be fine.
As soon as the suitcases were packed everyone was down in the lobby, multiple cars there to bring them all back to the airport. Em was texting Cyril with one hand, getting details about how everyone was getting out of the country before it was too late. The other hand was kept by Dan, pushing kisses to their interlaced fingers the same way he did when there was nobody around. It was Blake on the front seat with the driver as they finally made it out to the airport. A private jet was there on the tarmac awaiting their arrival.
It was surreal to her that getting onto a private jet was now normal, but it was. The plane was bigger than the one she'd been on before, more than enough room for the ten of them who were flying west. Em didn't exactly plan to sit next to Dan on the plane. It wasn't that she didn't want to - of course she did - but she figured she was better off leaving that seat for Michelle so she could talk to her brother before they were separated. Joe and Grace were already sitting on the other side of the table from Dan so she went to sit in the group of chairs across the small aisle from them. But Dan extended his arm out to pull her into the empty window seat, his bag reserving her place for her. He'd made jokes that she belonged beside him, but she never thought that he'd do something like this. It wasn't until Em nodded and went to sit in that he moved his bag, grinning like a kid who'd gotten exactly what he wanted.
She was just settled in, pulling a book out to read for part of the three hour flight when Isaac ran straight to her, arms up for her to pull him onto her lap. It had been so hard to explain to her nephew that they were going home but she couldn't see him for a couple of weeks. Explaining what was happening in the world felt impossible, so it was brought down to "everyone needs to stay at home for a little while, but we won't be able to see each other till then". He kind of understood what was happening, that he wouldn't get to come to the farm for a night even though Dan and Em would be there. He wasn't going to get to see them, so he took after his uncle and climbed onto Em's lap to get comfortable and cosy while he curled up with her.
"Can we has dinner tonight?"
"Have dinner, baby. And nope, not yet. We're gonna FaceTime for a couple of weeks."
"But you home!"
"I know. But it's to keep you safe. I promise we'll see you soon."
"Cuddle?"
"We can cuddle for the whole flight, promise."
Even though it was against almost every rule that existed in the history of aviation, Em didn’t put Isaac into his own seat as the door closed and takeoff began. Instead she took the blanket that the flight attendant offered her and spread it over them before fastening the seatbelt on top of them both, Her arms were wrapped around him for extra protection as he clung to her. She asked if he was going to nap during the flight, a shake of his head insisting that he was gonna stay awake. But she was comfy and safe to him, by the time the seatbelt sign switched off his breathing was deep and even against her. Ignoring her book she snuggled down into the seat, leaning her head against Dan and made herself try to get some sleep.
Dan wanted to melt with happiness and love as he watched the two of them fast asleep together. Em was against him on the seats and he put his arm around her so she could curl in and sleep. His mum took a photo of the three of them, a smile on her face as she showed it to him.
He wanted it so badly he nearly hurt thinking about it. He wanted his Emmy by his side every day, curled up against him no matter what the plane or car journey was. He wanted to watch her sleeping peacefully, get to hold her hand and kiss her forehead and chase away the sadness he saw in her nearly every day. He wanted a life and a home with her, matching rings and a wedding and marriage and to see her like this with their baby on her lap, not their nephew.
It used to be something he thought of as a maybe. As a if his partner wanted it he’d be interested, but that was it. He never thought settling down would be something that he wanted. And now looking at Em cuddling Isaac he knew he’d have a footie team with her if she wanted it. She just had to ask him and he’d retire there and then for her. He’d give it up and they’d pick somewhere to settle down and he’d change nappies and run around chasing kids with her eyes and wild curls.
He wanted to ask her. It was terrifying but he wanted it. Wanted to ask her to marry him as soon as they could get a date and to start trying for a family together. Spend lockdown making plans and trying for a baby. But he couldn’t do that to her.
Em was already struggling with the unknown future they were facing because of the coronavirus, it was unfair to ask her for anything. Especially such a huge change in their lives. Everyone had said that it was a two week lockdown and then things could go back to normal. He didn’t buy it though. It might be two weeks, it might be two months. He could be back racing at any point and he didn’t know. And if things went well and they got lucky? If he had to leave Emmy behind because she couldn’t travel with him he didn’t know what he’d do. Or if he missed something important because he had to race.
He couldn’t do it. Asking for this from Em when her anxiety was skyrocketing and they were facing a life without structure was unfair. She was already trying not to spiral, there was no choice here. No good choice. Yeah there was a chance, but he could feel it in his gut that it needed to be put on hold until they were more stable. There were more important things to do. Fix Em’s visa, stay in Perth, get through whatever was going on and finding out when things could start back up. Then he could plan their future. Baby steps. He fucking hated it, he wanted to run full force into everything he wanted, but he had to take baby steps to protect Em.
“She’s gonna be alright, you know that, right?” Blake leaned across the aisle to Dan, shaking him out of his thoughts.
“Huh?”
“Her visa. She’s gonna be fine, I did some digging, this is exactly what that visa is designed for. But if it’s not I’ve already emailed about getting a plane from Perth to London. We’ll need a fuel stop in the Middle East probably, but we can make it work.” It was the we that made Dan sit up a bit and look at him.
“You know you don’t need to come with us, right?”
“I know. But who’s gonna look after your messy arses if I’m not there? Or throw a book at the wall?”
“Oh fuck you!” He kept his voice low but his mum still heard, Grace giving him a glare. “Sorry, Ma.”
“Language, there’s kids on this plane.” She was smiling at his immediate apology, Dan just thankful that the kids were asleep.
“But seriously, thanks. You don’t have to do any of this.”
“You don’t have to thank me. I was thinking about it, if there’s something going on and you can’t go with her don’t worry about it, ok? I know you’ll be there as soon as you can be but I’ll be there and make sure she’s alright until you get back. She’s not gonna be alone.” It was the most serious he’d ever heard Blake in his life.
“I’m gonna be there. If she can’t stay in Perth then I’m not staying either. I made her a promise that I wouldn’t leave her side and I’m keeping it. Wherever she goes, I go. We’re a package deal now.”
“I get it but I wanted to make sure that you know I’m gonna be there for her. She’s my little sister, like you’re my brother.” Dan gave Blake a nod, emotion hitting him. It was gonna be ok. It had to be.
The flight passed quickly, Dan chatting quietly with his parents until Em woke up. They were interrupted by Michael coming up to him for a moment to double check that it was straight to the farm when they landed. He hadn’t thought that Michael would want to be with them there, but he nodded before realising what he was doing.
Once Em woke up she snuggled against him even more, chatting with Grace and Joe about their plans while playing with Isaac and his favourite toy cars on Dan’s chest. Dan didn’t say much, watching Em as she smiled and made vroom vroom noises while playing with Isaac. Every few minutes he’d run his fingers over her hair or kiss her forehead and she’d curl into him even more. It was rare for Em to let her guard down enough to cuddle him in front of everyone, but especially after Isaac after New Years.
They’d snuck inside at midnight to share a kiss while everyone else was watching the fireworks go off. He’d grabbed her hand to pull her into the kitchen for some privacy. He wanted to get a proper kiss from his girl and cuddle her and wish her a happy new year, so they were hidden in the kitchen with Em sitting on the counter and Dan standing between her legs sharing soft kisses. They were too caught up with each other and saying they needed to go back out but it was one more kiss. Then five more kisses. Then a hug. The bangs from the fireworks and Isaac’s tiny feet meant they never heard him coming or going from there.
It wasn’t until Michelle told Dan later that night how her son went running to her to tell her excitedly “I SAW UNCLE DANNY AND AUNTIE EMMY KISSING!”. He thought it was hilarious but Em was mortified and refused to go near him around his family again. He hadn’t seen them so close since that night, but Isaac didn’t say anything. Dan wasn’t sure if he’d forgotten or was happy playing with Em, but he was glad nothing was mentioned. He just listened to the giggles Isaac made while Em tickled him, looking across at baby Isabella in her mother’s arms and feeling that longing again.
He just wished he could stay on that plane forever, stop time and be there with his favourite people. He had no idea when he’d get to have the ten of them together in one room. He didn’t know when he’d get to see his parents, his sister, his brother in law and his niblings. Not knowing when the next time he and Em would pick up Isaac one afternoon to take him out was eating him. He wanted to turn up in the afternoon after Isaac’s nap, take him out to the playground and dinner before bringing him to the farm and spending the night with him. The lazy days the three of them had on the farm, Michelle making jokes about how it was their trial run to be parents to him and him warning his sister not to say it to Em.
But instead the plane went inevitably towards Perth, Dan looking out the window as they landed. It was sunny while they taxied to the private terminal, everyone stepping off as the luggage was unloaded. Finally he hugged his family goodbye, watching as Em did the same and gave everyone an extra hug. It was to the farm, to make a plan for the next day and hold his girl because he desperately needed something normal. Anything.
He had to keep it together for Em because if he started tearing up then she would, and she’d barely be able to stop. She hated crying in front of him, crying in front of Michael and Blake in the front seat would have been unthinkable for her. So when he sat in on the back seat he took her hand from her pocket, feeling the metal toy she was clutching. Em turned her hand up, showing him Isaac’s toy car.
“He told me I need to give it back next time I see him.” Her voice was low and Dan just held her hand for the entire drive, the music playing washing over them as they got closer to the farm and safety from everything happening in the world. When they pulled up he brought everyone’s suitcases into the living room before standing outside. Em went and stood beside him, looking out over the land and holding his hand.
Michael could feel that he wasn’t particularly wanted on the farm. He’d said it to Dan because they didn’t know what was going on or what would happen in the future. They were probably exposed, and if any of them got coronavirus the last thing he wanted to do was pass it onto his family. He’d never forgive himself if he hurt his Nana with it. So instead he was locking himself up with Blake, Dan, and Em.
The idea of quarantining in a house that had plenty of space and land around should have been fun, especially with two of his best mates and the girl he liked staying there. Except said girl and one of said best mates were…something. He had no idea if they were a couple, if it was friends with benefits or love or what. He didn’t know what they called each other - he’d never heard them say they loved each other at least - but they were something. And for the first time they weren’t hiding whatever they were anymore. They’d been subtle for as long as he’d known them but now he was seeing them fully acting like a couple. It felt like a nightmare.
He still remembered that morning in China when Dan was running late. Knocking on the door and getting no response so opening it and seeing Em moving in Dan’s lap. He hated that his brain wouldn’t forget about her little gasps and moans and he hated even more how much he wished he was in Dan’s place right there. He tried to avoid it, he tried to pretend that he didn’t remember how she looked. He tried not to want her but it was impossible. She was a bright light and he was a moth completely attracted to her and unable to look away. Every single time he saw her and Dan beside each other he wanted to be in Dan’s place and it fucking sucked. He wasn’t sure if he regretted saying yes to her travelling with them but he couldn’t say no. Blake immediately said yes, so he had to as well.
He wanted to be the one to make her laugh, who she came to when she was cold and wanted to steal a hoodie, the one offering her his arm so she would snuggle under it during long flights. He wanted to be the one making excuses to sneak into her hotel room and inventing reasons to see her. Which was stupid and ridiculous.
But he also thought Dan was out of his mind for what he was doing with Em. He knew perfectly well what they were doing in that drivers room on Thursday, and in countless other drivers rooms. He knew that they weren’t talking about the schedule and he told Dan as much, that he needed to focus on work and driving and getting a contract for next year. The problem was Dan’s reaction to it. He insisted that he knew what he was doing and to not say a word to Em about their conversation. Fine by him, he never wanted to mention to Em that he knew what she and Dan were doing.
He couldn’t believe when it was happening again that morning as he walked in. He knew when Em was the one who answered the phone that they were together and hiding so he went up to get them moving. It was normal for them to act like there was nothing between them even though everyone knew, but finding them like that was weird. Dan being unfocused and tired on the first full day of a race weekend wasn’t something that happened. He didn’t know why, but Blake filled him in when he asked how they were going to work out Em’s visa situation. The two of them were on the back porch in the mid afternoon sun, staring out across the horizon. Home for the foreseeable future.
“Why do you think Dan barely slept last night? He spent it getting the change for her visa submitted before the DHA was overwhelmed with visas. If it’s denied then I’ve worked out how we’re getting back to London.” Blake sounded completely calm and it was ridiculous. The full impact of his words hit Michael there. Dan would do anything for Em. He put his career second and her first, he was picking her before everything and everyone else. And if Michael was honest with himself, he’d been doing it for probably a year.
“So they’re actually a thing now?”
“They’ve been a thing for like a year and a half, mate. You were blind to not see it.” They were the same words that Blake had used in China when Michael went straight to his door to tell him what he’d seen. But even though he already knew it was happening, it hurt a bit more this time. “It’s their thing, as long as it makes them both happy it’s a good thing.”
Michael wanted to be the one who made her happy. He wanted to have a ‘thing’ with her. He wanted to hold her the way Dan did, an arm around her waist and her head curled against him as he held her. He wanted to get to kiss her forehead and whisper how he felt to her, to show Em off to the world as the woman he wanted. But he had to settle for walking back into the house with Blake, their original conversation over and the two quiet.
It wasn’t until they finally got into the house and were sorting their bags that it hit him. There were three bedrooms and three beds. Either he or Blake were going to sleep on one of the couches, neither of them would make Em have to sleep out there. It was probably fairer to leave it up to chance instead of arguing, so he turned with his fist outstretched.
“Rock, paper, scissors to see who gets the bed?” He asked, but Dan interrupted before Blake even had the chance to answer.
“There’s two spare rooms, don’t fight. Nobody’s stuck sleeping on the couch and everyone gets some privacy,” he explained as if it was completely normal. Michael watched as he went back to Em and kissed her forehead before speaking again. Em looked like she was holding herself together through sheer determination and desperation. “I’ll grab our bags and put them in our room, yeah? You’ve got your carry on and handbag there?”
“I’ve got them, I’ll take them in. Want some tea before we lie down? I think we’ve still got some left from Christmas. I’m gonna need to make a list of what we need at the supermarket tomorrow, maybe do some online orders. Make a list of what one you want me to pick up.” Her smile at Dan was captivating, Michael staring and wanting her to smile at him like that.
“We’ll figure that out later, but please make me some. Thanks, Babe.”
“I’ll bring it into you, you need sleep. Do either of you want some tea, boys?”
The only thing Michael could do was shake his head no, pretending to busy himself with his backpack. There was nothing that could pass through the knot in his throat right then.
He knew Dan was a picky fuck when it came to his tea. He always insisted that nobody could do it like Em could, the three of them made jokes about how it was because she was British. But beyond all of that he never expected to see them sharing a room so openly and in front of people. They weren’t hiding and sneaking, they weren’t pretending they were just friends. They were like an honest to God couple who had been together for years.
As he watched Dan walk down the hallway to the master bedroom, Em heading into the kitchen and Blake getting his stuff together to put his things in one of the guest rooms it hit Michael like a punch to the gut. He had made a huge mistake telling Dan he was staying at the farm. But now there was nothing he could do.
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Zombie Apocalypse Yandere Phantomhive Manor
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In a modern au your hired as a nanny for the young but capable Ciel Phantomhive
Helping the practically perfect butler-Sebastian Michealis as he balances most of the house work
There’s the other butler-pleasant but strange Tanaka 
And there's maid Mey-Rin, the chef Bardroy, and the florist Finny
Granted they're not super-good at their jobs but you don’t mind lending a hand when Ciel is too focused on working 
As his nanny you are a new face meant to help more with his emotional development, than you are with actually watching him to keep him safe
Still heading home every afternoon/night you still have your own life
School/volunteer/another job you name its what you spend your free time doing
Prior to andduring the zombie apocalypse you often had to pry everyone’s fingers off you the moment you head for the door
“Alright guys I’m going to start heading out.”
“Noooo b-but (Y/n) we haven’t even served dessert yet, we haven’t!” 
“Y-yeah and didn’t ya want to see the moonflowers we planted?”
“Guys I have sweets at home and I will see them another time. Good. Night.”
Even Ciel can get a little aggressive when he doesn’t want you to leave
“I’ll fire you if you step out that door!” 
“Ciel…you were the one who signed the contract that I be out before seven.”
“Ergh! Sebastian, don't let them leave!”
“Well we did want to focus on him learning to exercise control.”
“Well we shouldn’t be teaching kidnapping as a solution to problems.”
But the moment that the zombie apocalypse hits they won’t let you leave so easily
Early on into the pandemic you find out how prepared the Phantomhive staff are for this
If your not already in the manor they’re bringing you inside
Easily mowing down the hordes of the undead in order to bring you home 
And when they finally do have you safe and sound any attempt to go outside is immediately shot
“Ay! Before we may not have had a good enough reason ta’ stop ya but now we do.”
Majorly outmatched by their expertise with a gun, flamethrower, and strength in general 
You're not going anywhere
And even if you managed to get past all that Sebastian’s all too skilled at keeping you in arms reach
“Ah, (Y/n) seems you’ve gotten lost. I’ll escort you to your room.”
“My room?”
Yes they have a room which is a bedazzled copy of your own room that you’d never seen prior to this apocalypse 
Should you continue to misbehave that will be your room jail cell
Even better you probably won’t want to leave anyway
Who would want to fend for themselves in a world full of death and despair when you have a highly trained staff and master that were more than willing to protect you 
“You’ll find we, at the Phantomhive Manor, are all dedicated and are more than capable of protecting you.”
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lionlena · 11 months
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Unforgivable mistake (JoelMillerxreader) Part 4
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Summary: Reader is much younger than Joel and is in love with  him. One night, after arguing with Tess and getting drunk, Joel spends  the night with a reader, but in the morning he breaks her heart…  She  runs away from Boston hoping that she will never meet this cold bastard  again in her life. But almost six years later, she unexpectedly sees  Joel in Jackson. She decides to hide herself and her little secret from  this asshole.
Warnings: age gap (reader is about 28 years, Joel 58),  strong language, swearing, past trauma, bullying, attempted rape, memories of sexual abuse,  unprotect p in v,  dom!Joel, Joel is asshole, ANGST, hurt, sadness and heartbreaking, sexual harassment, women abuse, violence
A/N: Sorry, but this is probably the longest chapter so far.I don't know what to write, it was an emotionally difficult chapter. There's a lot going on in it.
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Part 4
After a few weeks, you reluctantly admitted that you needed Joel's help. He perfectly filled the gap that was created when neither you nor Claudia could take care of the boy. And Teddy loved Joel. It hurt you a bit, but the most important thing for you was the happiness of your son. The boy was happy when Joel picked him up when he tossed him up when he did all the things you couldn't do so well because you were smaller and weaker than Joel.
"Are you sure Teddy won't disturb you at the stables? I still have half an hour until my shift." Your friend's voice pulled you out of your thoughts.
You looked at the little boy who was happily jumping up and down a few meters in front of you.
"No. Joel will pick him up in an hour."
You saw Claudia frown. You knew she loved you like a sister and your son like a nephew.
"I know what you're thinking," you murmured. "But this asshole really does his job. Since Teddy staying with Joel, he's happier and no one's teasing him."
"I know, it's just… Fuck, Y/N, this is Joel. He'll fuck off eventually."
You sighed heavily. "Let's hope not, though."
*
As usual, you arranged a place for your son at the back of the stable among the straw bales. You gave him toys and you started cleaning the horses. Teddy was always very polite. From an early age, you taught him that horses are beautiful animals, but they require respect and you have to be careful around them. Unfortunately, not everyone understood this.
"Y/N!!!"
You shivered as you heard Anderson scream. Instinctively, you took a step back and slammed your back against the cubicle wall.
"What happened Peter?"
"I told you it was for you I'm Mr. Anderson," he growled, and you rolled your eyes, but then the man was right in front of you and dug his fingers painfully into your arm.
You immediately remembered who you were dealing with.
"What happened?" you repeated almost in a whisper.
"Why you didn't let my son ride that gray mare?"
"Venus is only two years old and is too young."
Anderson snorted and finally released your arm. "I saw that Teddy sitting on her."
You wanted to roll your eyes again, but you were afraid of his reaction. You took a step forward and tried to stay calm.
"Teddy helps me get her used to the rider. He doesn't ride her. Venus is always attached and I'm by her side. Your son wants to ride her alone, and that's out of the question. Also, Teddy is smaller and lighter."
Anderson shoved you so hard that you hit your back against the stall door. Then he grabbed your jaw painfully and growled, "Are you suggesting my son is fat?!"
You felt tears welling up in your eyes and shook your head.
"Good," he spat. "And you'd better train that stupid mare so my son can ride her."
He finally let go of you and walked away, and you sighed in relief. You rubbed your jaw and looked around nervously. You hoped Teddy didn't see or hear anything. Unfortunately, this wasn't the first time you fought with Anderson. He used to be so nice...
(flashback)
You met Peter Anderson right after you moved to Jackson. Before the pandemic, he was a gynecologist and was a valued resident of Jackson as a result. He was nearly fifty, tall and slim. His black hair was streaked with gray. He reminded you of Joel, but he was the opposite. Peter had a wife and child. He was kind and caring to you. He always smiled at you and assured you that he would help you with the birth.
You didn't even notice when his behavior towards you became too intimate. When he touched your breasts to show you how to feed Teddy. Or when he praised you saying his postpartum wife wasn't that sexy. You started to feel uncomfortable around him, but at the same time, you had no way to avoid him. You didn't know who to tell about your problem.
On your next visit, you decided to deal with it yourself. You felt his hand roaming your thigh and you pushed him away violently.
"Peter stop!" you growled. "You have to stop this. You have a wife and a child."
He looked at you with amusement. "What are you talking about child? I'm your doctor, how should I examine you?"
You narrowed your eyes and hissed, "I only came for medicine on Teddy's fever."
Anderson was not going to back down and nonchalantly replied, "That's why I need to check your breasts. You may have an inflamed breast. You're still breastfeeding him, and that could have caused the fever."
You felt yourself turn red with rage. "You put your hand up my skirt! Since when are there breasts?! You say I'm sexier than your wife and…"
The splash of a slap on the cheek spread around the room, and you clutched your face with tears in your eyes. You looked at Peter's angry face.
"How dare you, stray dog?! I tried to be kind and caring to you, and this is how you repay me?"
"I'll tell everyone what you did," you sobbed.
"Really? Then go and tell them that the doctor who looks after them treats you so badly. Come on. And you know what I'm going to tell them? That you're a little bitch who can't keep her legs shut. I'll say you hit on me and, that you're taking revenge because I'm faithful to my wife. I wonder who they'll believe? Me or a bitch who fucked someone in Boston."
You couldn't hold back your tears. You didn't understand why men were like this. First Joel, then Anderson. Or was he right? It was all your fault. There was something wrong with you.
Peter threw a small bottle with a clear liquid in your direction.
"Give the kid three drops and take his temperature, now get out of here. You're pathetic."
You ran out of his office and didn't tell anyone what happened.
Since that incident, Anderson hasn't hit on you anymore, but he's become rough and rude. He often pushed you roughly or grabbed you too hard, leaving you with bruises. He verbally abused you by calling you a bitch, a whore, a slut.
But of course, he never did it publicly, he was too smart for that. You felt trapped. You thought his position in Jackson was too strong.
You didn't know how to end it.
*
When you saw Joel entering the stables you shouted "Teddy! Joel is here!"
The man greeted you with a nod, but you looked away. Your son ran around the corner and ran towards Joel. He fell straight into his open arms and whined.
"Hey, 'bear cub'. What happened?"
The baby just snuggled closer to him and he looked at you concerned. You felt worried too and walked over to them.
"Maybe he's tired," you said. "Try giving him a snack and put him down for a nap."
He nodded and left the stable with his son. The little one held him tight all the way home and sniffled. Joel rubbed the boy's tiny back and tried to talk to him, but Teddy was silent. It wasn't until they were home that the boy looked at him and asked, "Can you protect mommy like you protect me?"
Joel knelt beside him. "Who am I supposed to protect her from?"
"From Mr. Anderson," he moaned sadly.
He rubbed the boy's shoulders and considered how to continue the conversation. He knew Anderson was a doctor and had a wife. But maybe you had an affair with him and the boy was just jealous.
"You need to tell me more, 'bear cub'. What exactly did Anderson do to your mom?"
The boy grabbed his jaw with his hand and said, "He's holding her like that and yelling at her. And he pushed her... And mommy hit the wall... Or he says bad words to her... Sometimes he grabs her hand and... Mommy has then a bruise. Mommy is afraid of him and doesn't like going to him..." The boy sniffed and a few tears ran down his cheek.
With every next word from Teddy, Joel made sure that Anderson was abusing you. He was furious with this guy and didn't understand why you didn't finish it. Didn't anyone in Jackson want to help you? And the worst part was that Teddy saw it.
Joel pulled the boy close to him and put his arm around him protectively. "Don't cry, 'bear cub'. I promise I'll talk to Anderson and tell him to be nice to your mommy."
Teddy snuggled closer to him and grabbed him by the shirt.
For the next few hours, Joel felt like a caged wild animal. He had to be calm, for his son, but everything inside him was boiling. When Ellie finally came home, he immediately ran over to her.
"Stay with Teddy and stay at home."
The girl looked at him surprised. "But what happened?"
"I have to do something." He grabbed his jacket. "Ellie,  this is really important."
Teddy ran over to them and hugged the girl, shouting "Hi", but seeing Joel leave he quickly said, "Are you going to help mommy?"
Joel smiled at him. "Yes, 'bear cub'. Stay with Ellie and be good."
Before the teenage girl could ask anything, he was already outside. He decided to go to the bar first since it was the time most of the men gathered there. And he hit the jackpot.
Anderson was sitting at the bar drinking whiskey. As usual, he was wearing a shirt and tie, and everything about Joel was going crazy. A fucking asshole pretending to be an elegant doctor. He wasn't going to play. He walked quickly to Anderson, ignoring the surprised look from Claudia, who was standing behind the bar. He grabbed the man by the arm and turned him around.
"What?"
"Fuck off from Y/N!" he growled. "If you touch her again, I'll break your arm."
Anderson snorted and looked unfazed. He thought he was in no danger. He lowered his voice to a whisper and asked, "That little bitch complained to you?"
Joel released him and took a step back, only to gain momentum and punch Anderson in the face with all his strength. The man screamed in pain and fell from the chair to the floor and clutched his nose.
"Fuck! You broke my nose you psycho!"
Joel laughed. "It's good that you're a doctor... You'll be fine." Then he kicked the man in the ribs.
He was about to strike another blow, but some men grabbed him and pulled him away from Anderson.
*
You were just leaving the stable when a panting Claudia ran up to you.
"Y/N!!!" You froze at the nervousness in her voice. At first, you thought something had happened to Teddy. "Joel went crazy... He broke Anderson's nose!!!"
Your heart sped up and your breathing became ragged. Many thoughts ran through your head, and you realized pretty quickly that there was only one reason for Joel's behavior. Teddy must have seen Peter attack you and tell Joel. You looked at Claudia and tried to swallow, but your throat was completely dry.
"Where are they now?" you croaked.
"In Maria's office." You nodded your head and wanted to move, but your friend grabbed your arm. "What happens?"
"I'll tell you everything, but now... Now I have to help Joel."
You couldn't believe you said those words and you were just as shocked as she was. She finally let you go, and you ran to the building that served as something like a city hall. People met there, discussed problems, planned activities for the future, and made important decisions.
You burst into Maria's office without knocking and quickly noticed Joel sitting on one of the chairs. Tommy held his shoulders tight. In the second chair was Anderson with a bloody nose, and across from them was Maria. This scene was a bit funny. They looked like two teenagers in the principal's office, but you had no reason to laugh. As soon as you entered, everyone's eyes focused on you. Anderson spoke first, of course.
"There you are. Tell that lover of yours that I didn't do anything to you."
Joel immediately tried to jump up. "Shut up your mouth, or I will break your jaw!"
You felt like the world was spinning around you. Two men who hurt you were in the same room, and you had to choose between them. You saw Maria say something to you, but you didn't hear what. You wanted to run away. You wanted to leave Joel and Anderson behind. You wanted them to kill each other. But then you thought of Teddy and shouted, "Enough!!! I've had enough!" Everyone suddenly fell silent and you looked at Maria with tears in your eyes. "I'm sorry, but I can't take it anymore. Anderson sexually harassed me when I came here. When I rejected him, he began to abuse me. Sometimes he hit me, sometimes he insulted me ... I didn't say anything because... He's a doctor and everyone needs him."
Maria walked over to you and put her arm around you.
"She's lying," Peter moaned.
The woman gave him an angry look. "Be silent!" She looked at her husband. "Tommy, take him home. He's not allowed to go outside. I'll take action later." She led you to the door. "Joel, stay here. I and Y/N will be in the next room."
Joel didn't look pleased. He wanted to make sure you were okay, but finally nodded and crossed his arms over his chest.
*
You told Maria everything, and she listened to you patiently and looked at you sadly. When you were done she said.
"Y/N, no one has the right to act like this. It doesn't matter that Anderson is a doctor... For God's sake, he should care more about everyone."
"I thought no one would believe me," you whispered.
Maria squeezed your arm. "I believe you." She sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Stay here for a while, I need to talk to Joel."
You nodded your head and watched her leave the room.
*
Maria looked at Joel and gasped. "I don't know what to do with you. I want to throw you out of town, but at the same time, I'm grateful to you. Though I don't understand why you suddenly decided to play a knight."
Joel jumped up from his seat and glared at her.
"Because Y/N don't deserve to be treated like this and my son doesn't deserve to be worried about his mom."
Maria frowned. "And suddenly you're the one who protects and cares for her?"
"What do you mean?"
"You hurt her. You took advantage of her. In the old days, some courts might even consider it rape!"
Joel winced and took a step back. "I didn't rape her... She wanted it. She was an adult and she didn't say no."
Maria looked at him with contempt. "Is that your explanation? You are and were much older than her. You saw how naive and in love with you she was. Just because she didn't say no, that she didn't scream, didn't run away, doesn't mean she wanted it, that she wasn't scared, hurt... Besides, it means Anderson had a right to bully her too because she didn't object."
"This is not the same!" he growled. "He had no right to lay a hand on her."
Maria laughed, and his fury flooded over him. "Why? Explain it to her. The man she loved hurt her and didn't respect her. Why should other men treat her better?"
Joel's shoulders slumped. Was it really like that? The way he treated you changed your life forever
"I didn't mean to hurt her... I was different."
"Possibly, but you seem to have gone back to your old ways. We don't break other people's noses here."
"What are you going to do? Let's get this over."
"I won't do anything. Let Y/N decide what to do with you."
Joel opened his mouth but couldn't say anything. He could fight clickers, robbers, or FEDRA without fear, but putting his fate in your hands. It terrified him. You had your revenge.
"Maria... Please."
"I'll talk to her and tell you what decision she made."
*
You looked at Maria as if she had just told you that aliens had landed in the city.
"Are you kidding me?"
"No. You decide his fate. He's to go to a cell, he's to be kicked out of town."
"No," you whispered.
"Isn't that what you wanted? He broke your heart and you hate him."
You shook your head and replied, "I don't hate him for breaking my heart, but for the way he did it. And you're right, I wanted to throw him out but... That was before my son loved him and before I met Ellie. If I kick out Joel, I'll punish the kids too."
Maria sighed. "At least a cell for two weeks?"
"NO." The woman was clearly shocked by your answer. "I'm sure Teddy asked him for help, if I lock up Joel, my son will think it's his fault."
"You're too good."
You shrugged. "Let him take over my stable duties for the next week, I have to leave for a few days." Maria nodded and you just left. You wanted this day to end.
*
Joel opened and closed his mouth. Then he finally managed to say, "Nothing? Just a stable?"
"Yes," Maria repeated. "Believe me, I'm not enjoying it at all."
Joel was no longer paying attention to her. He grabbed his jacket and quickly headed for the door, but a woman's voice stopped him.
"Joel!"
He looked at her annoyed. "What?"
"Leave her. She doesn't want to see you."
"Maybe she doesn't want to, but she needs to hear something from me."
Joel ran outside. He must have found you and it didn't take him long to catch up with you.
"Y/N! Wait, please."
You looked at him with tired eyes. You were emotionally exhausted and didn't know if you could handle another asshole.
"What do you want, Joel?"
He walked over to you and stopped some distance away. You saw that he was nervous.
"Thank you for not kicking me out."
You shrugged and murmured, "I did it for Ellie and Teddy."
He nodded and licked his lips. He took a deep breath, looked you straight in the eye, and said. "I'm sorry... For everything. For today and... Especially for Boston. I know I made you thought that Anderson has the right to treat you like this."
You stared at him blankly. You didn't feel any better thanks to his apology. It was as if everything had come too late. The losses have already been done.
"You think you fixed everything because you hit him?" He shook his head on 'no'. "Good, because then you'd be a complete moron."
Joel winced slightly. "If I could turn back time."
"But you can't!" you growled. "And I don't want it." He looked at you surprised. "Then there wouldn't be Teddy. I don't regret having him. I just don't want him to be like you."
Joel swallowed hard and looked down. "He won't... He... He has the same goodness in his as you have. And I'll do anything that he not to be like that. Even if I have to pull away."
You were so surprised by his confession that you stepped closer. "A few weeks ago you begged to see him and now you would give it up?"
He nodded and looked at you sadly. "If it was for his own good. I don't want him to be like me. I really regret what I did to you."
"I don't want your apologies or regrets," you said confidently. "I want to know why? Why did you do this to me?" You tried to keep your voice confident, but it trembled at the last question: "What's wrong with me?"
Joel gasped sharply and took a step towards you. He stopped himself from hugging you at the last moment. "There's nothing wrong with you," he said firmly.
"Why?" you repeated the question.
Joel closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them, you saw something new in them. He was vulnerable… As if he really decided to open up to you.
"You were beautiful, smart, good and so young... You still are, but in Boston, you were like a delicate flower that grew in a dump. And I was garbage. And for some inexplicable reason, you chose me..." He sighed heavily and gently brushed your cheek. "I tried to push you away. You know it. I was myself. Maybe even worse. Remember when you used to bring me cookies and I never thanked you for it." You nodded. "I thought it would make you stop doing it and make you realize that I don't deserve it. But you were relentless." He paused for a moment, knowing he was approaching the worst part. "That night... Part of me wanted to hold you in my arms and treat you like a delicate flower, but the alcohol awakened that animal side in me. The one that wanted to destroy you. Hurt you so much, that you would never again, come near to me. And it did. You left and I…” He snorted and shook his head at the memory of what an idiot he was. "At first I was glad you were avoiding me, then I realized you weren't anywhere in Boston. I even paid "old Robert" for the information. He told me you left town with Claudia and some other people. I know you won't believe me but... Then I thought you would die because of me, and I added you to the rest of my sins, and then I saw you here, alive." He smiled slightly. "And all I focused on was that if you're alive, I haven't done anything wrong, but that's not true. If I wasn't such a monster in Boston, you wouldn't fall into the arms of another monster. Y/N, I don't know if you'll ever forgive me, but I promise I'll never hurt you again."
You didn't know what to say. It was all too much. You had to clear your head. You finally whispered. "I'm going away for a few days and I'm taking Teddy."
Joel looked at you worried. "Where? Alone?"
You nodded your head. "To a safe place. To friends who live out of town. They're like grandparents to Teddy."
Joel looked at you sadly and nodded his head. "All right."
Once upon a time, you would give everything to make him look at you like that. With those puppy eyes, but now... Now you just wanted to be away from him.
"I know we're going the same way, but could you..."
Before you could finish your sentence, he said, "I'll take the long way. I'll go around."
You nodded and turned away from him, walking briskly forward.
Joel stood there for a few more minutes and watched your silhouette get smaller and smaller until you disappeared completely. And he felt that painful grip in his chest. The one he hadn't felt for many years and understood that he would do anything to make you forgive him.
*
My baby,
Wide eyed and pretty
You're a body I could hold
You are a good woman I'm told
I made a lot of mistakes,
And you know some of them made me
You may think me a fool,
But I am a good man too
I am a good man too
Sanders Bohlke - My Baby
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Part III
Part V
Taglist:   @ajeff855, @anislabonis-love,  @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi,    @i-workwithpens, @milla-frenchy,  @quality-lust    @liatome  @sarahhxx03 @creedslove @jojo-munson @pascalislove @sofiparallel  @goldenhxurs   @elliaze  @aestheticangel612  @cheyxfu  @orcasoul  @misshoneypaper  @prestinalove​
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apeekintothepantry · 3 months
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Happy Pokémon Day! February 27th is the anniversary of the first two Pokémon games’ release in Japan, and it’s a minor holiday in my house, as a fun excuse to make Pokémon inspired food, watch some Pokémon shows or movies (we’re going to watch Netflix’s new Pokémon Concierge this year!), and get excited about upcoming games and releases. This year, we’re making a Pokémon Sword and Shield inspired burger-steak curry and I’m making a dessert from the Pokémon Cookbook by Victoria Rosenthal. It’s one of my favorite fandom cookbooks – all the recipes are vegetarian or vegan, to get around the awkward question of where does the meat in the Pokémon universe come from?
But that’s not all we’re making! Ever since Nicki and Isabel were released, I’ve been dying to do a post about them and Pokémon’s infamous “Jelly Filled Doughnuts”, better – and more accurately! – known as onigiri.
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Pokémon was released in the United States in 1998 via two Gameboy games: Pokémon Red and Pokémon Blue. The games quickly caught on to be one of the biggest pop culture phenomenon of the late 90’s and early 00’s, and as a kid at the heart of this explosion, I can’t overstate how much of a big deal it was. One of the great things about Pokémon – and probably why it has such lasting, widespread appeal – is that there are so many ways to interact with the franchise, and the marketing doesn’t skew hugely towards one gender or the other. Cool, tough Pokémon like Charizard got pretty similar billing to cute, pink Pokémon like Jigglypuff, and there were so many options for potential favorites that it was easy for any kid to find some creature to attach themselves to.
One of my petty complaints with Nicki and Isabel’s collection and books is the almost complete lack of mention of Pokémon and other anime that was really popular among kids in 1999. I know AG probably didn’t want to shell out for licensing deals with Nintendo or The Pokémon Company, but their stories just don’t feel accurate without discussing their prized binder of Pokémon cards or begging their parents to take them to see the Pokémon movie in theaters. Maybe the authors were just a little too old to get caught up in Pokémania?
I’ve also always thought its close overlap with the Beanie Babies crazy helped get millennial children like me very into the “gotta catch ‘em all” aspect of the franchise. Is this why I’m such a crazy toy collector as an adult? Who knows.
The Pokémon anime was one of the main ways kids like me got hooked on the franchise, because not everyone was allowed to have a Gameboy of their own (me), and not everyone liked video games, but even if you didn’t like video games, the cartoon might appeal to you. Although it was far from the first Japanese cartoon to air on US television, Pokémon was one of if not the first truly mainstream favorites of the 1990’s. 4Kids, the company in charge of dubbing the show into English, decided that American kids wouldn’t understand or be open to certain aspects of the show that reflected its Japanese roots, and so made a lot of strange choices in rewriting the script. One of the most notorious was deciding Brock’s rice balls were actually jelly filled doughnuts:
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Onigiri – also known as omusubi or nigirimeshi – are balls of rice with a variety of fillings inside. They’re often compared to sandwiches, as an easy, quick, cheap meal or snack that combines carbs and other ingredients. While the concept of taking a rice ball and stuffing it full of other tasty treats goes way back to ancient Japan, the triangle shape became popular in the 1980’s thanks to a new machine that automated the filling process. Further developments over the last 40 years have created unique ways to prepackage onigiri without making the nori wrapping sticky. The ones we made were an attempt at recreating the “Hawaiian” (spam and pineapple) rice balls from our favorite food hall back in DC. One of my favorite pandemic indulgences was getting take out from the food hall, which often included a sampler of some of my favorite onigiri, and I haven’t been able to find anything close to similar where we are now. One of the many reasons I’m excited to move!
Even as a kid, I wasn’t convinced the food in the anime was fried dough with fruit jelly inside, because they sure look like rice. I also think 4Kids didn’t anticipate that Pokémon’s widespread popularity would inspire many of its fans – including me – to become absolutely obsessed with Japanese food and culture. I would’ve been more excited if they’d just been straight with me and shown more Japanese food on the show, and then probably begged my parents to make it or take me to a restaurant that made it. While I can’t confidently cite numbers of how many other people were first exposed to Japanese culture and food through Pokémon and franchises like it, I do think it’s a bit of a missed opportunity to highlight how things like this exposed kids like Nicki and Isabel to parts of a culture outside their own!
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welldonebeca · 2 years
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Strawberry Jam
Summary: Bucky comforts you after you have a rough day at work. Pairing: Bucky x F!Reader WC: 3.1k words Warnings: Smut. Fluff. Emotional Hurt/Comfort. Vaginal fingering. Dirty talk. Vaginal sex. Unprotected sex. Wife kink. Marriage Kink. Overstimulation. Multiple orgasms. Passionate sex.
Writing is my only source of Income in this pandemic. If you like my work, consider buying me a coffee or subscribing to my Patreon. It’s just $2 a month and helps a lot while I go through these hard times.
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Bucky mixed the gooey hot red am with the wooden spoon, breathing in deep to get the sweet smell, ready to pot them up.
He was doing this especially for you - you loved homemade jam with all your heart, and ate it almost every day. The jar you had at home was now empty, however, and he was trying his best to make a version of it.
Bucky had just come back from the farmer’s market, where he had gone to buy more fruits and veggies for just the third week in a row. They didn’t have your beloved strawberry jam there, but the seller was nice enough to give him the basic recipe to make it at home.
Your new house routine was something he was just starting to get used to. The two of you had moved in together recently, a little over a month ago. Bucky had left the compound, retired at last, and now his days were filled with being whatever version of a non-married househusband he could be while just your boyfriend. His retirement pension was enough for him to live on his own forever, and your job wasn’t bad either.
So right now, you two had a lot of plants, a dog and a moody cat, and no couch yet, and were planning to get married in the next couple of years - he was looking for a ring, actually.
And speaking of your dog, Phoebe was watching him with a lot of curiosity and pleading eyes, always the hungry girl, and Bucky scoffed, leaving the jar and picking up a strawberry from the counter, taking off the green part before tossing it to her, moving right back to putting the jam in the jar, realising quickly he needed a second one when half of the jam was still in the pan.
Once he finished, he was very proud of what he saw.
It looked good, it smelled good, and he was sure it tasted good too.
Maybe he should bake something to eat with that jam. Maybe biscuits?
Or bread.
He really liked baking home bread. His favourite was sourdough.
Bucky was pulled away from his thoughts when he heard the sound of the door opening and Phoebe’s paws on the floor as she ran to greet you, overexcited as always.
He waited to hear you come over and say hi, but the house kept silence aside from a few mumbles as you said hi to Phoebe and Alpine, probably with some kisses.
Finally, you walked to the kitchen and leaned onto the door frame, looking at him with a sad and weak smile.
“Hey,” you spoke softly.
His shoulders fell in a when he realised the sadness behind your voice.
“Hi," Bucky cleaned his hand, moving to you.
He pressed a little kiss to your lips, worried, and you sighed a little.
You were a lawyer, which was a very tasking job, and sometimes mined your whole energy, or took a little more of your heart than you were initially willing to give.
Recently, you’d been working on the case of a kid who had had to go through a second amputation surgery after an accident in a restaurant months after his first imputation, both on the same leg. The family was suing for the legal and medical expenses, which included his therapy, and monetary compensation that would be used for the boy’s tuition once he decided to go to college.
“What happened?” he asked gently, raising his hand to caress your hair.
“They want to test the ramp of the restaurant,” you told him. “To see if it was possible for him to fall.”
“Okay,” Bucky nodded slowly.
“But they renovated the whole place!” you pointed you, growing angry. “And put a handle that wasn’t there that day. Mr Green’s sister took pictures while the ambulance was called! It looks completely different!”
He reached for your face, caressing your cheek gently.
“And what did the judge say?”
“He wants to analyse the photos before saying anything,” you sighed. “And a second medical opinion. They want this kid to go through a whole medical evaluation again!”
He reached for you, caressing your cheek.
“I’m sure they’ll be reasonable and careful,” he assured you. “The doctors know it is a complicated moment for him. And his dads are going to be there.”
You sighed, pinching your nose.
“They are also insinuating his dads were neglectful with him and that was why he fell,” you added. “I swear to God, that restaurant…”
You hid your face in his chest and groaned.
“I hate them,” you whined.
“I know,” he caressed your hair.
There was a moment of silence, and you moved your head up slowly, resting your mouth on his shoulder and looking behind him, into the kitchen.
“Is that homemade jam?” you asked, mumbling against his shirt.
Bucky threw a look at the counter.
“Yes,” he confirmed, looking back at you, a little excited for his effort being noticed. “I just made it.”
You groaned once again, though softer, against his skin.
“Did you make it yourself?” you asked.
“I did,” he told you, grinning. “Do you want to try it once it is cooler?”
You nodded, and he kissed your temple.
“Do you want me to prepare you a bath?” he offered. “And we can leave work to work?”
You sighed.
“Yes,” you mumbled. “Please.”
Bucky kissed your forehead again, slowly moving down to kiss your nose and then your lips.
He took your hand and walked with you into your bedroom, leaving you behind to set up your bath, filling up the tub and adding the bubbles and the rose oil to the slowly growing water.
He heard the sounds of your steps behind him, and raised his head to find you watching him from the door, fully naked, lips curled in a little teasing smile.
“Hey,” you rested your head on the door frame. “Still dressed?”
It didn’t matter how long you were together, Bucky was proud to never get used to seeing you naked. Seeing you never ceased to fully enchant him.
Bucky looked at himself, a little surprised at the question.
“I wasn’t planning to get inside, actually,” he looked at your face.
You feigned outrage.
“Me?” you asked, exaggerated. “On my own? In this big tub?”
Bucky scowled, and you pouted.
“It’s going to be so lonely!” you remarked. “And cold.”
He chuckled.
“In this warm water?” he asked.
“But so vast,” you teased him. “Without my husband with me.”
Bucky’s cock awoke with the little word.
Your husband.
Oh, how he loved being called your husband.
The two of you were planning to be married in the near future and were practically engaged now, but the title was still something he wanted to conquer, and loved hearing from your lips.
You reached down for him, pulling him to stand up, and Bucky held you closer as you threw your hands on his shoulders, squeezing him.
“Don’t you want to come inside with me?” you bit his lower lip. “Keep me company?”
He hummed, chuckling, and knew he couldn’t just say no to you.
“Of course, wife,” he gave your lips a peck.
You giggled, and stepped away, leaning on the counter and watching him as he took off his clothes, kicking off his shoes, pants and underwear all in one go, earning a little chuckle from you.
“Impatient?” you asked, grinning.
He just chuckled along with you.
“Always,” he shot you a playful wink.
Bucky leant to you again, holding your hips and caressing your skin with his fingers.
“Come on, wife,” he nudged you in the right direction. “Let’s get you in your bath.”
He stepped away from you, and let you take his hand as you stepped into the full tub and knelt, waiting for him to come and sit, and Bucky entered right after, relaxing at the feeling of the warm water against his skin right before you leant to rest against him, sighing.
“What do you think?” he kissed your temple. “Good?”
You nodded and he put his hand over your stomach, pulling you a little closer, and kissed your shoulder.
“You are a great lawyer,” he squeezed you. “And I’m very proud of you and of what you do.”
You whined, putting your hand over his, sounding both boomed and embarrassed.
“Bucky!” you rolled your eyes.
“I mean it!” he exclaimed.
You just shook your head.
“I don’t think so,” you breathed out. “I feel like I could do more for them.”
“Like what?” he caressed your skin gently with the hand he had on your stomach.
Bucky waited for an answer, but you grimaced, apparently not finding anything you hadn’t already done for the family you were representing.
“You have done a lot,” he kissed your temple. “Now it’s not in your hands anymore.”
You sighed and rested your head on his shoulder, and Bucky slowly moved the fingers he had on your stomach to your breast, running them on the flesh and plump bottom of it.
“You should relax,” he whispered into your ear. “Let your husband help you relax, wife.”
You squirmed, cheeks flushing in a blush.
“Bucky,” you threw your head back a little bit.
He caressed your breast slowly, massaging it and reaching for your nipple, pulling on it slowly and making you whimper.
“My pretty wife,” he touched your other breast, doing the same to it, teasing and playing with your sensitive peaks. “Such a hard-working woman, the one I found for myself.”
You arched your chest to his hands, exhaling in a very soft sound.
“You work so hard,” he played with your nipples, watching your body squirming and shivering, reacting to his touches.
He trailed one of his hands down to your hips, and felt you spreading your legs under the water.
“My pretty wife,” he kissed your neck. “A big shot lawyer…”
You giggled, and he spread your inner lips and folds, already finding them slicky and wet.
“So sensitive for her husband,” he touched your entrance.
You arched your hips, whimpering a little, and he kissed your shoulder.
“Always making me so proud…” he tapped your clit softly. “But never relaxing.”
“Bucky…” you whined.
You pouted, squirming and moaning, and he hummed along with you, kissing the sweet spots of your neck.
He could feel the difference between the actual water and your wetness, even underwater. Your pussy was slick, warm and welcoming, and practically hugged his finger tightly when he pushed it into your cunt, and you whimpered when he took his finger up to your clit again, rolling it slowly.
“Such a lovely cunt,” he cooed into your ear, fingers picking up their pace. “I can feel it drooling for me even with the water, my pretty wife. You’re always so responsive to me.”
You moaned, arching your body to him, and he squeezed your tit in his hand, reaching for your stiff nipple and pulling on it, twisting it, grinning as he watched your face twisting and heard the mix of a gasp and a moan coming from your lips.
“Such perfect tits,” he kissed the curve of your neck. “And a perfect cunt, so hungry and so receptive.”
You continued to moan and squirm, with his name falling from your lips along with your little sounds, as his fingers never stopped to play and tease your clit and tit.
He knew he was going to be gladly buried in there tonight, licking and sucking your folds, taking orgasm after orgasm from you until you were a wreck, foggy eyed and only able to say his name.
But right now, you were having a relaxing bath, and he was never going to stop his perfect wife from relaxing.
So he played you like you were his favourite instrument - which you were - as he whispered sweet dirty words into your ears and felt your body moving and heard your moans growing, and held you down when your hips started thrusting against his hand.
“You’re gonna cum, my pretty wife?” he kissed your shoulder. “Gonna cum for your husband?”
“Yes,” you cried. “Yes, Bucky, please.”
He picked up on his pace, holding you down as you came, quivering and shaking, crying out loud.
You were still quivering when he stood up, picking you up and walking back to your bedroom, and threw you on the bed.
“Bucky!” you squeaked, giggling.
James climbed on top of you, not caring about how your bodies were getting everything wet, and kissed your lips hungrily.
“My pretty wife,” he kissed your neck, moving down and kissing your chest before he grabbed your knee, pushing it up.
You pushed your fingers into his hair, pulling him right back and kissing him, and he angled his cock, pushing it into your cunt and resting his forehead on his when you gasped. He’d been hard since you sat between his legs in the tub.
Fuck, you were so wet, so warm.
“Bucky,” you closed your eyes.
“My wife,” he grunted against your lips, thrusting into you. “Always so wet for me.”
You arched your hips, meeting his strokes, already sensitive from your previous orgasm, as your cunt squeezed his cock, hungry and slicky. It was so easy for him to make you cum. Bucky loved taking and taking them from you, making you scream for him.
So he took his fingers to your cunt, and played with your clit, devouring your lips and your moans as he worked on making you feel good, and pulled back to look at your face when you inhaled deeply.
It was an image he truly adored, the way cheeks flushed, and your eyes closed, and your lips parted as you found your way over the edge.
The walls of your cunt fluttered around his cock, and he had to hold himself from cumming for a split of a moment, completely taken by you.
And then you pulled him back, kissing him with even more hunger than before, moving your body to get closer to him, and pouted when he pulled away from you.
“Husband,” you whined.
Bucky grunted at the name, throbbing inside you, and took his lips down to your neck, sucking on it before pushing his lips to your chest. The position you two were before didn’t make it easy for him to access them, but now they were right in front of him.
He bit the flesh of your tits for a moment, and then your nipple, and bit down on it gently before sucking on your flesh.
He loved sucking marks on your skin, marking you, to make everyone know you were his. It was sad that he needed to keep his bruises a little hidden because of your job.
As long as you knew it and they reminded you of how you were his, it was enough.
“Bucky,” you arched your chest.
“Want to make you feel good,” he rolled your clit in his finger, earning a whimper from you.
He pinched your clit a little and chuckled when you squeaked, cunt fluttering around his cock again, and your sounds made it even more obvious how you were already near the edge.
“James!” you gasped, arching your body to him. “Oh, fuck.”
“You’re gonna cum again?” he asked, smiling at you. “Already, baby?”
You pouted.
“Want to cum together,” you affirmed, moving your fingers on his back and running your nails over his skin. “Please, husband.”
He looked back at your face and rubbed his nose on yours.
“Please,” you panted. “I want to make you feel good.”
Your cunt squeezed his cock, getting wetter and warmer.
“Y/N,” he grunted.
He was holding himself back for quite a bit of time. Bucky wanted to ravish you, to make you come apart.
Still, you pulled him up, and kissed him.
“Please,” you moaned. “Together.”
How could he say no?
Bucky angled himself, resting his forehead on yours and moaning when your walls squeezed him, joining you in your soft wanton cries.
“Cum with me,” you pleaded. “Please, husband. Fill me up.”
He grunted, squeezing you close as he thrust into you, letting his eyes close and his body take him.
“With me,” he grunted, playing faster with your clit. “Cum with me. Milk my cock.”
You pulled him up to kiss him, moaning into his lips as your cunt started squeezing around him, triggering his orgasm along with yours, and he rode it fucking you, faster and faster, and slowly down little by little.
Bucky had his eyes closed when you kissed him, first his nose and then his jaw, and then his lips again, brushing his hair with your fingers.
He pulled himself from inside you and laid by your side, pulling you to his chest and kissing your temple, moving his fingers up and down your back.
“Rest a little,” he instructed. “I still want to devour your cunt.”
You laughed into his neck, amused, but Bucky scowled, reaching down and pinching your ass.
“I mean it!” he insisted.
You raised your head to look at him, pressing your lips to his and giving him a hungry kiss.
“I can’t wait,” you assured him.
You lied back, but pulled back with a surprised face when you seemed to realise something.
“Bucky, I almost forgot!” you exclaimed. “The Greens invited me to Joshua’s birthday and said I could take my partner with me.”
He raised his eyebrows, a little surprised, and you moved your hand to metal hand, interlacing your fingers with his.
“I want to go,” you told him, firmly. “But you don’t have to come if you didn’t want to. I know you don’t like parties.”
Parties were noisy, and he wasn’t that big of a fan of noise. But the invitation had been extended not just to you, but to him too.
He was about to answer when an idea sparked in his mind.
“Would they mind if I brought one of the guys?” he asked. “Do you think the boy would like to meet one of the Avengers?”
It was your turn to look a little surprised. It wasn’t like you made your relationship with Bucky public. The few pictures you had with him in your office had a remarkable lack of his face and arm in them, to keep his privacy intact. He doubted anyone ever made such a connection.
“I can ask them,” you told him. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” he confirmed. “I’m sure Tony will be happy to send a fun gift, and either Sam or Steve are happy to show up. Or Clint, too.”
You nodded, laying back down.
“Okay, I’ll ask them about it.”
Bucky kissed your cheek again, and squeezed you close with his right arm.
“Come on,” he bit your lower lip, chuckling a little with the joke in his own mind. “Let’s get you something to eat before it’s my turn to eat you.”
. . .
"Strawberry Jam" was posted on my Patreon back in July! To Have early access to all of my fic, consider subscribing! It's just $2 a month!
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538 notes · View notes
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so this happened a while ago but i still feel quite a bit of guilt over it and i’m honestly wondering whether i was in the wrong or not. i’m almost 18M now but i was 15M at the time (almost 3 years ago).
at the time of the pandemic i (15M) got very bored in quarantine and ended up making online friends with P (17NB) and later G (18NB) after P introduced me to G after the two had talked for a considerable amount of time.
the three of us were very close for a long time (this was the first friend group i’d had that referred to me as he/him, additionally as i had very little experience with online friends before now, and because P and G were both also trans like me it felt more comfortable).
P and G began dating after a while and met up once or twice, but as i live further away from them it was more difficult (additionally my mother was very restrictive on having online friends, so this was kept from her).
i had a very big puppy crush on both of them at this point but kept it to myself. however i did feel confused for a bit as although they were dating, P and G would tease me a little bit, calling me ‘good boy’ and sending me screenshots of them teasing each other ab their kinks then calling me a voyeur, stuff like that— in a teasing way, not in a genuinely flirting way but it made the crush a lot more intense for me.
P and G dated for almost a year but towards the end things started going wrong (at the end of the relationship, P started talking about how he didn’t feel attracted to G anymore because G wasn’t a cis man and didn’t have male genitalia. which came off as a little weird to me as both of them were transmasc?) but they agreed to part ways
they broke up soon after and i kept in contact with both of them seperately (probably not the best decision as P would constantly talk shit about G in a group chat even months after they broke up which i didn’t like). but P ended up suddenly talking to me and saying that i was talking too much to G, then giving me an ultimatum of either i stop talking to G or they wouldn’t talk to me anymore for their own mental health
this also happened on new years which just put me in the worst headspace i’ve been in ever. i ended up saying no, blocking P and telling G about it (even though G was a little disappointed that i’d been given that ultimatum in the first place and we just ended up not hearing back for a long while
the only reason something started up again was that later, a mutual friend of ours mentioned they had seen P post some concerning things on his story on instagram (about cutting off toxic people, more stuff about G, but also suicidal ideation kinda stuff on his close friends) and i realised i still had access to his vent account (which didn’t have a lot on there but enough that it would probably make the average person worry a bit).
G was worried about P even though they’d broken up and asked me to send him some screenshots of the vent acc’s newer posts so he could relay them to his family and hopefully get some help. i sent maybe three or four posts over and G sent the posts to his mom who then had a conversation with P. i then got a lot of messages from P calling me a horrible person and saying i was wrong, which i was really confused and stressed over because i genuinely thought i was doing the right thing and some of the things P posted were scaring me a lot. P’s two friends also messaged me later as well, calling me vile and saying i was horrible for doing what i did
i ended up apologising to P later because the guilt was eating me alive and i couldn’t take it anymore, and we ended up civil as the only thing we’d really talk about from that point was writing ideas for their blog, but then they decided to send me a random ‘congrats, you ruined my life’ emoji meme which made me really confused because i thought we were okay again. we haven’t talked for ages now but idk. the guilt gets to me sometimes and i think maybe i might’ve been horrible without realising because i genuinely wanted to help……. basically aita for sending the screenshots to G?
What are these acronyms?
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hillbillyoracle · 2 years
Text
Getting Moving When You’re Stuck in a Small Room
I like sharing my notes with people and I’ve heard from a few people that I am not the only person who is disabled, living with high conflict people, or just stuck spending a lot of time in one room generally. These resources are also great for people who are depressed or just need a low barrier to exercise generally.  
Framework: For me, movement is a bit like the old school food pyramid. The bottom is gentle cardio/walking, the middle is strength, and the top is stretching and enjoyable activities. I put most of my time and effort into maintaining a walking practice and less as I go up. It might help to know that walking done indoors generally takes longer than walking done outdoors. More frequent movement breaks throughout the day might be more helpful and bearable than one big chunk. 
Mindset: I think it’s also important to keep in mind that none of these are going to “fix you”. They’re not a thing to beat yourself up for not doing. Every time you choose to do a little more movement in your day, you’re planting a seed. You don’t lose that seed just because you didn’t exercise for the last several days, weeks, months, or even years. The more you plant, eventually some of them will sprout into fruitful benefits - but just planting one is better than not planting any. Because even one has more opportunity to bring you benefit - planting none can’t don’t do that. You planted that seed and nothing can take that away from you.
So here are some resources I use for getting more movement in with about 2′ x 6′ of clear space in my room (total space 8′ x 8′; full bed and book shelves).
Get Fit with Rick - Walking Workouts
youtube
Get Fit with Rick was my lightbulb moment. It was about a year into the pandemic. Conflict with my partner was keeping me from wanting to so much as pass her in the hallway to get to the door some days so I started researching what was possible to do indoors. So many workouts required equipment, were loud if you were in an apartment, or were boring as hell. 
But some how I stumbled onto Rick Bhuller’s walking workouts and it felt honestly a little bit life changing. It was something I could do with headphones in, quietly, in my own space. 
I like his music taste, he gives you variations so you can make it harder or easier as you need, and it doesn’t require much space. Some moves don’t work in my extremely small usable area now, but I can still get through most of the workouts without having to change much. His 5k step workouts are on the higher end of what he does so if you need a shorter workout he’s got you covered. 
While he does mention weight loss on occasion, it’s not his focus. He has a very positive coaching style that really just encourages you to have fun with it.  
Hybrid Calisthenics - Strength/Bodyweight Workouts
youtube
I fucking love Hampton. 
He’s got such a lovely energy and is an incredibly positive and resilient person. When it comes to this workout videos, he focuses building a foundation for healthy functional movement and preventing injury. He teaches bodyweight progressions and doesn’t make any one progression the goal. 
While his pullup methods might not work in a very small space, everything else has for me. I can do it all on a yoga mat that fits in my little walkway. For the pullups, I replace them with rows that I do with a milk jug filled with water to at least get something in. I might look into kettlebells as I get stronger. Hoping he’ll make a video at some point with some variations. 
I still struggle with strength training but I’m the most consistent I’ve ever been thanks to his positive and adaptive style of teaching. 
His website is probably the most accessible way to get into his content. 
Dayana Wang - Workouts in Bed
youtube
Content warning with her stuff that much of it uses dated and toxic weight loss language so if you find that triggering I would skip her videos. 
But if you can tolerate that, her bed workouts are really helpful! I did these when pain was keeping me from getting out of bed. I’d just follow along until I couldn’t anymore. I slept better and felt better and my flares were a little shorter as a result. 
Take care not to strain yourself with some of the moves. Depending on the firmness of your bed, some might not be advisable. 
She has some bed workouts for different areas - arms, core, legs, etc - so if you have an injury in one area, you can always follow a workout for the others. 
But overall, excellent resource for bedbound folks. 
Yoga with Adrienne - Yoga/Stretching
youtube
Who hasn’t heard of Yoga with Adriene at this point? 
She’s a favorite for a reason. She really does have videos for every skill level. I really enjoyed what I was able to complete of her 30 days of Yoga series that she has. It’s a great spot to jump in to her channel and get a sampling of her different offerings. 
What I most like to use her videos for are for stress relief stretches. I can’t really get into yoga personally but her hip, back, and neck progressions have been wildly helpful. Her bedtime yoga videos are also a treat. 
Hope this helps someone out there or at least saves them a little time! I really felt like I was wondering around in the dark on this a few years ago so I really hope this spares someone that experience. 
791 notes · View notes
devirnis · 8 months
Note
if you’re still taking prompts, can i ask for a combined 13 and 22? 👀
@bvckandeddie of course you can ask for combos! I hope this is to your liking 💜
(full disclosure, I wrote this in my notes app while hopped up on painkillers and cold medication and also on vacation ✌️)
Chim calls dibs on the couch the second Buck’s front door closes behind the three of them.
Buck glances at Eddie on his other side, wondering if he’ll put up a fight for the couch (and trying to convince himself that he doesn’t care if he does), but Eddie just nods tiredly and trudges in the direction of the stairs up to Buck’s bedroom. Buck can’t really blame him; today was the shift from hell, on top of a long week of shifts, and culminating in the call to limit potential exposure to their families by staying with each other. Given that he lived alone, Buck’s loft was the logical choice for Chim and Eddie to use, while Hen had elected to stay in the guest room at Bobby and Athena’s while the kids moved to Michael’s place.
None of them are very jazzed about the whole situation. One, because it’s a global pandemic and work has been crazy and everything is just a little scary right now, and two, Buck knows Eddie would much rather be with Christopher, and Chim with Maddie.
Buck lingers on the main level just long enough to help Chim dig out some blankets for the couch — he really needs to get an air mattress if this goes on longer than the two weeks that everyone is promising — before hurrying up the stairs after Eddie. He finds his best friend at the top of the stairs, staring a little blankly at Buck’s bed.
Oh. Right.
While Buck is totally cool with sharing the bed — it’s a king, after all — he has no idea how Eddie’s feeling about the prospect. The last person Eddie shared a bed with was probably Shannon, and Buck needs to not think too hard about that if he wants to keep his head on straight (pun definitely intended.)
“I can take the floor?” Eddie asks, glancing over at Buck.
Buck rolls his eyes. “I don’t have an air mattress. Besides, it’s fine, it’s plenty big enough for both of us.”
A strange sort of expression flickers over Eddie’s face, but it’s gone before Buck can identify it. When he turns back to the bed, Buck swears the back of Eddie’s neck is a little flushed.
“If you’re sure,” Eddie says haltingly.
“I don’t have a problem with sharing with you,” Buck says, and then frowns, his stomach dropping a little. “Unless — I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable —“
“No, no!” Eddie scrambles. “No, I didn’t mean — I’m not —“ He sighs. “Which side of the bed do you sleep on?”
“Oh, uh.” Buck’s stomach twists for some stupid reason. It’s been a while since he shared with anyone — Ali was out of town a lot during their brief relationship, and he and Abby hadn’t been physical long enough to pick sides. “The middle. Pick whichever you want.”
Eddie wanders over to dump his duffel bag on the right side of the bed, closest to the stairs. “If you have a dent in your mattress that I keep rolling into…”
“I haven’t had it that long!” Buck protests.
Eddie smirks at him, but there’s something else there besides the playfulness that Buck is familiar with.
Before he can decipher it, Chim’s calling from downstairs about Buck’s terrible throw pillows and the moment is broken.
Eddie shoots Buck a sympathetic look as Buck sighs gustily. “Maddie wouldn’t appreciate it if I killed the father of her unborn child on the first day, right?”
———
Buck thought that he’d have trouble falling asleep given the general existential dread hanging over him and the fact that he’s sharing his home with two other people, but he actually doesn’t remember much after he crawled under the covers beside Eddie.
He’s so comfortable. He loves his mattress and sheets and pillows, but somehow he’s never had a sleep as good as this before. He’s warm and cozy, with a comforting weight along his left side, grounding him, making him feel held.
Actually —
He is being held.
There’s an arm slung across his waist, a head on his shoulder, soft hairs tickling the underside of his jaw. He breathes in, the cobwebs of sleep slowly dissolving in his brain, and he smells —
Eddie.
Eddie is on top of him, clinging to him like a koala bear, snoring softly into Buck’s collarbone.
Buck’s traitorous heart soars in his chest.
He shouldn’t be happy about this. The only reason Eddie is here is because of a pandemic — not because he wants to be. He probably doesn’t even realize it’s Buck that he’s holding; muscle memory from Shannon is the only reason that Eddie is plastered to him like this.
Buck shifts slightly, hoping he can disentangle himself without waking Eddie, but then Eddie’s arm around him tightens at the same time as he groans.
“Time’s it?” Eddie mumbles.
The hot breath against Buck’s skin makes him shiver. He twists his neck to read the clock on his bedside table. “Early. Not even five.”
Eddie hums into Buck’s neck, going boneless for a few blissful seconds before he suddenly stiffens. Seemingly aware that he’s stuck to his best friend like a barnacle, Eddie slowly lifts his head off Buck’s chest and meets his gaze. There’s a blush high on Eddie’s cheeks that Buck finds equal parts adorable and disheartening.
“Um…” Eddie says, slowly unlatching himself from Buck. “Sorry about that.”
Buck feels depressingly cold now that Eddie’s scooted a respectable few inches back. “Don’t worry about it. It was… kind of nice, actually.” And then Buck cringes because seriously? He had to say that last part out loud?
Eddie’s face gets even redder, but then he says, “Weirdly, that’s the best sleep I’ve had in a while.”
“Well…” Buck hedges, “I make a pretty good pillow. And — I don’t, y’know, mind. If you don’t.”
Oh god, can a hole just open up in his bed and swallow him now and put him out of his misery?
But, miracle of miracles, Eddie begins to slowly inch closer again. He keeps his eyes fixed on Buck the entire time, like he’s expecting Buck to take back his offer. Buck practically holds his breath, terrified to do anything lest he scare Eddie off again. But then Eddie slowly resumes his earlier position, laying an arm gently across Buck’s stomach as he places his head back on Buck’s shoulder.
“Your mattress totally has a dent in the middle,” Eddie whispers.
Smiling, Buck wraps his arm around Eddie’s shoulders, holding him close. “Guess we’ll just have to get comfortable in the dent, then.”
He can’t be sure, but he swears he feels Eddie’s lips curve into a smile against his skin.
(also on ao3)
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