#this is the same ch that i posted here this summer | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

iwritesinsnottragedieshoney · 10 months

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litty swimsuit (spencer reid)

paring: spencer reid x reader

summary: the team vacations at rossi's summer residence while spencer reid deals with insecurities, emotions beyond his control, and a y/n litty swimsuit.

genre: i guess fluff, but towards the end it changes into the beginning of smut, but nothing serious, actually.

warnings: spencer being a little insecure; one or two curses; some sexually tinged comments; maybe some spicy scenes at the end, but, like i said before, nothing hard; a lot of use of the phrase "frown".

word count: 11, 631

notes: this is the first time i post anything here and the first time i write something about spencer so i hope i didn't screw things up. english is also not my first language, some words may be used incorrectly just because the translator thinks it's a synonym and i believe him, so… have fun :) (every pic is from pinterest, i don't own them).

spencer walked out through rossi's glass door, his nostrils filled with the unmistakable smell of chlorine, mixed with a hint of summer afternoon and sunscreen.

the sun was in its full stage and he frowned slightly at the thought of the impact of sunlight on the human body and the consequences of the time spent outside then — he focused mainly on the negative ones, because they came to his mind the fastest. but he immediately pushed them away, frowning even harder. aside from forgetting his sunglasses from his room, he remembered what morgan had told him when they arrived at rossi's summer house: you need to chill out a bit, man. look, a whole week off work and a whole week with y/n in a swimsuit! she told emily it's litty.

spencer didn't understand a few things at the time, and unfortunately for him, they were all centered around y/n.

first of all, he had no desire to chill out a bit and didn't look like he was going to be able to do that anytime soon. two weeks ago there was a chance for a vacation for the whole team. someone (emily) discreetly remarked (gathered everyone in the check-in room thanks to garcia who sent everyone a flashing, unlockable message to the work computers) that it would be nice to spend time at rossi's summer residence at that time, which he readily agreed to (not really, but everyone had time to nod their heads appreciatively over garcia's presentation, where she presented the arguments for and rossi was bribed with the idea of themed Italian evenings).

spencer obviously didn't mind spending time with the team. apart from them, he didn't really have any other friends, and his mother was going to be involved in activities that would conflict with his possible visit, so he had no plans. he even lifted the corners of his mouth for a brief moment. that subsided, however, when the travel talks began a few days later, and y/n elbowed him lightly in the ribs and said she had a bunch of light and silly romances ready so she could read one a day, which is pretty much like as if they were reading at the same pace. then he realized that if he spent a whole week with the team, he'd spend it with y/n as well, and his stress-adrenaline spiked so high he nearly spilled the coffee he was carrying to his desk at the time.

it's not like he didn't like y/n. because he liked. actually, very much so. derek said he's totally head over heels.

and guess that was the problem.

when y/n joined the team, which happened exactly six months, eight days, twenty-one hours and thirty-two minutes ago, she totally turned his head, as penelope said. she was the most beautiful girl he had ever met, and her smiles were either very wide or delightfully stretchy (these were spencer's favourites, because then there were tiny wrinkles around her eyes and her cheeks were slightly pink), and when she greeted meeting him for the first time, she raised her hand in an awkward greeting at the same time he did, then laughed out loud before finally saying her name with the smile still on her face.

he wasn't sure if he was just imagining it, and he didn't even want to check if it was, but he felt that y/n had become a very good friend to him. someone who listened to what he had read last time in a new science article that appeared in a kiosk outside his block and didn't roll his eyes; someone who showed up with coffee and a donut when he was having a bad day; someone who used to come to his hotel room when things were done with chinese takeout to watch documentaries on TV; someone who played cards with him (even if y/n made up her own rules that were often meant to win only her); someone who eventually became more than just a good friend to him.

he couldn't even tell when he wished they were more. all he knew was that there was no chance of any change in that direction between them. girls like y/n weren't interested in guys like spencer, he knew it. he didn't want his stupid feelings to end. he liked the fact that y/n was somehow close, and if only she knew how he felt about her, he wouldn't have survived the humiliation of rejection.

anyway, when spencer realized that y/n would also be joining them on the trip, he panicked slightly. since she'd joined the team, they'd only spent time together at work and on field case, and that made their relationship somewhat limited (reason infinite why spencer thought maybe even their friendship was a bit forced). spencer would never have dared to offer her anything else because she might think he was asking her out (he hadn't asked derek yet, but he was pretty sure going to a museum to see the remains of a newly found tomb didn't count as a date, but he preferred not risk), and then she would surely refuse, which is why they did not meet outside of work. unless it was about going out to bars with the team.

y/n never proposed anything either (derek said it was because spencer wasn't giving her enough indication of his interest in such a proposal, but spencer thought being neutral about everything about y/n was safe and a chance to be too pushy), so spencer only confirmed his conviction. he was destined to be friend.

however, he began to have merciless thoughts about the possible end of their relationship, precisely because of the vacation trip to rossi's summer estate. eventually y/n will have to realize that spencer is actually incredibly boring, and his habits, behaviors, and interests are not at all caused by the situations that another case puts in their way. he will understand that spencer watches TV documentaries not because there is nothing more interesting on the hotel TV, but because he likes to do it. after all, no one willingly watches television documentaries! everyone knows it!

and on the one hand he knew that these thoughts were irrational rather than worth considering, but on the other hand he watched his surroundings for any signs that might prepare him for an imminent farewell to the warm feeling he felt inside when y/n appeared on the horizon.

spencer was sure that there were plenty of other things that y/n could find out about him during the trip and lose interest in him even at the level of work colleagues, so from the beginning of the trip he tried not to drive the stress reel and didn't think about it anymore, and it was either better or worse.

the other thing he didn't understand about derek was the y/n litty swimsuit. to be honest, spencer wasn't very interested in the y/n swimsuit until derek mentioned it. he didn't even combine the trip with swimsuits. but now he was definitely interested in it, and he was horrified that he was beginning to think of his co-worker and best friend in that context. he tried not to imagine it too often, but his thoughts involuntarily wandered in that direction when they were filling out reports at the office a day or two before, when he was in the shower, when he was going to bed, and when they were on the plane here. so, well, he wasn't doing very well.

but back to when he left rossi's house for his backyard swimming pool — derek was right, he needed to chill out a bit.

the swimming pool was rectangular in shape and was crossed by a volleyball net; on one side were hotch and morgan, and on the other side, emily and jj, who were clearly already engaged in the game for good, as the cheers directed at the men indicated victory and their considerable excitement. reid remembered derek's words again and refrained from telling them about the dangers of exerting himself in a place that was so exposed to the sun's rays. chill out a bit.

he descended the small steps to the stone path that flanked the pool, only guessing how hot the slabs of stone could get under his slipper-protected feet. he noticed that rossi, who was doing a crossword puzzle, was sitting at a table covered with a red umbrella, and probably wouldn't look up even if an african elephant ran in front of him. morgan's words rang again in spencer's ears, and he didn't stop to look over the man's shoulder and solve a few passwords. chill out a bit.

so reid walked on, toward white, comfortable-looking loungers. they were tucked away in the shade, far enough away that the noises coming from the pool wouldn't be annoying and that their distance wouldn't seem exaggerated. on one of them was penelope, holding a glass of iced coffee in one hand and a kindle in the other, which she was staring at intently.

spencer looked around discreetly, but saw no y/n anywhere. he knew she was the first to leave the house — at six o'clock in the morning he wasn't awake enough to get up, but he heard her soft footsteps down the hall and the slam of the front door. he didn't know where she was, but when he opened his eyes again, the whole team was downstairs, discussing something quite loudly. it was early afternoon now, and spencer was angry with himself for not being able to get up early enough. he felt as if he didn't know as much as the others. as if he missed something.

he sat down precariously on one of the deckchairs, the one closest to penelope's, and gripped the leather-bound book he'd brought with him a little tighter. he ordered it from his local bookstore a month ago, and the delivery difficulties only made him want to devour it whole, but now, when y/n wasn't around, he somehow didn't feel like opening it. he involuntarily looked towards the garden, remembering that when they arrived three days ago, y/n had disappeared there for a good hour. maybe she went to see that little pond she'd been telling him about...

"what are you looking for?" garcia's suspicious voice reached his ears, and he immediately felt a treacherous blush rise to his cheeks. "or rather, for whom."

she added the last one with a noticeable smirk in her voice, as if she knew the answer to her question all along, and spencer wouldn't be surprised if she really did.

he looked at her, still slightly surprised by her unexpected remark; the blonde lifted her sunglasses so that they rested on top of her head, her fingers gently, almost soundlessly, tapping the kindle's surface.

he noticed that her nails were painted a dark blood red. just like emily wore. and jj. probably similar to y/n. apparently it was the result of their ladies' night last night, which had dragged on until one in the morning, which spencer knew because there was a wall between his and emily's room that was thin enough for him to hear music and laughter coming from the room. that was the main reason why he got up later than the others today.

"i don't..." he began, but before he could somehow prevent a minor annoyance that would surely have lasted into the evening, the patio doors slid open and shut just as forcefully.

spencer looked over at them, frowning at the glare of the sun.

y/n trotted hurriedly towards them, her thick-soled flip-flops making a distinctive sound with each step she took. she was wearing a slightly tight, ankle-length skirt of mesh material with a lining and a light green tank top with thin straps. in her hand was a shopping bag, which she placed between spencer's and garcia's sun loungers. her chest was rising and falling at a rhythmic but not too fast pace, which indicated she was in a hurry.

“i will never go back there again,” she declared, plopping down on the lounger where spencer was sitting. she was clearly addressing penelope, but a second later she was elbowing him in the shoulder. "where have you been all morning? the vacation book club meeting must have started without you, though i swear i fought like a lioness."

even if she wasn't quite close, he could smell her cherry mist, and when he looked a little closer, he noticed that thin strings of a bikini trailed up from underneath the tank top and tied in a bow shape at the nape of the neck. chill out a bit.

"i overslept," he stammered, wishing he was someone with a better explanation.

"oh no, is it us?" y/n looked genuinely worried. „jj and i tried to turn the music down but emily was adamant. and then we went a bit too far with the alcohol and music was the last thing on our minds."

"no, i... forgot to set my alarm clock." thought up on the spur of the moment, but y/n tilted her head slightly doubtfully.

she didn't comment on it, though, because her attention was drawn to penelope, who until then had been interested mainly in the lines of text on her kindle, now clutched it tightly to her chest and, her lips parted in excitement, leaned towards y/n.

"did it work? does the red nail theory work? answer, woman!" her eyelids were wide open and her pale cheeks flushed a little pink.

"what is the red nail theory?" spencer asked, frowning again, this time in confusion.

he was used to the fact that he didn't know much about currently pop culture and usually had to get information from team members or search the internet himself. he did it a bit more often lately, because y/n would run into the office from time to time and tell him in an emotional voice about the latest happenings in the world of celebrities that he had no idea about. but if y/n was interested, he wanted to, if only so he wouldn't stand there stock-still and nod his head in an attempt to understand.

"oh, it's such a stupid notion that if you paint your nails red, guys will stick to you like flies," she replied, as always without impatience, waving her hand dismissively, which only underlined her attitude towards the matter. spencer, however, saw the red on her fingernails.

“it's widely believed that the color red symbolizes passion, desire and, of course, love. a survey was conducted which revealed that…” spencer began, unable to resist sharing this information with her; he stopped, however, when penelope waved a kindle in front of his nose, as if to chase away a persistent insect.

"y/n! did mark make a move?!”

"who is mark?"

in his defense, it had slipped out faster than he had time to think. the tone in which garcia's question was uttered indicated that mark had already been the subject of conversations and was obviously known to someone other than y/n. that in turn meant (spencer unintentionally connected the assumption with his own suspicions) that y/n was romantically interested in someone, and probably someone — how could not — reciprocated. especially since the woman's cheeks had turned slightly pink.

spencer felt his stomach turn inside out; never thought he had any chance with y/n, but sometimes it was nice to daydream a bit. but now those dreams had become almost utopian, though earlier, he liked to tell himself, they had been possible if he hadn't been such a coward and had perhaps agreed to go to the gym with morgan.

“he's a clerk in that little shop we passed on our way here. remember, the one with the white wooden sign and the blue lettering. anyway, penelope thinks he's a muffin ready to munch, which i guess means he's relatively attractive," y/n replied again, in the same tone as before; this time, however, she didn't wave her hand, but ostentatiously rolled her eyes.

"hello? when will it be time to answer my questions?” the blonde got impatient and slid her legs off the lounger and seemed ready to pin y/n to the ground and force all the answers out of her.

y/n smiled softly (apparently the danger in garcia's eyes was no problem for her) and bent down to reach for the shopping bag at her feet. she was clearly looking for something and was knocking over the rest of her purchases as she did so, but she took her time to answer penelope.

"i'm not sure about that theory, pen. i bought you a couple of canned sodas and some magazines from the display at the back of the store, and mark was mostly looking at my boobs, not my nails. this confirmed what i had always thought of him — that he is quite a jerk. i don't know, girls, maybe you should be interested in someone valuable."

spencer lifted the corner of his mouth, the one that the others couldn't see; he didn't know the whole mark, but enjoyed the way y/n thought of him. he just didn't know who he was. he liked to think he wasn't a jerk, but he wasn't sure he was valuable either. he was curious if there was anything in between.

“this is not some husband contest, y/n. it's our carefully crafted hot girls summer," penelope reminded her, and this time she rolled her eyes in exasperation.

reid refrained from asking another question.

“then i'm afraid our hot girls summers are quite different,” y/n replied, finally pulling a few magazines out of the plastic bag and stacking them neatly on her lap, frowning in concentration. “i bought rossi another crossword puzzle because i saw him finishing the one in the morning paper. jj and emily said they didn't need anything but i bought them a gossip magazine anyway. the only thing i didn't know was what to get hotch... anyway, penelope, i didn't spend a dime on you. it's for those stupid messages you've been sending me all morning! and for your information, my inner tigress didn't pounce on a couple of ribs."

penelope moaned martyrdom, throwing her head back and returning to her previous position, turning on her kindle again. y/n didn't seem too concerned about it, in fact, not at all, and turned around a bit to face spencer. her mouth stretched into that familiar excited smile, and her cheeks seemed to still be tinted with a soft pink as the woman proudly held out to him a sealed magazine with a dvd inside.

"dr. reid, here's the second part of the documentary we started watching during this case in baltimore." her tone was high, but spencer still sensed a hint of laughter in it. “on the way back i also saw a nice restaurant that delivers orders. it's not chinese, but i don't mind indian food. you like indian food, right? i can look for something else, i think i saw something at the end of the pier...

“indian food sounds nice, y/n,” spencer said reassuringly, giving her a small smile.

it all sounded nice. it was nice to think that y/n looked at the popular science section and thought of him; about wanting to watch a nature documentary with him and eat takeout. spencer didn't want to think otherwise, and even thought that maybe all his fears about leaving weren't very rational.

"oh god, i hope you guys gonna fuck while doing this or i'll drown you in the pool..." penelope's totally serious voice broke the smiling silence between them like a knife blade.

spencer made an indistinct noise, blushing to the tips of his ears while y/n seemed extremely angry.

“you know what, pen, i'd rather fuck spencer with a documentary on africa insects running in the background than go out with all that mark. i bet he's an indebted loser who doesn't even own a boat, which would be quite derogatory given the name his shop bears." hissed y/n.

spencer felt like he was shrinking with each passing second; y/n's hand and the magazine it held were digging into his chest, and penelope's eyes shone again with a dangerous glow, which together with the accusing finger was quite a disturbing sight.

"i see! so he invited you after all!” she exclaimed, and y/n dropped the magazine from her hand, which with a rustling sound fell to his lap and arranged her hands in such a way as if she wanted to strangle the blonde.

"yes, penelope!" y/n raised her voice. “he said something like maybe we can go out together or something and i said yeah, rather not, or something and immediately left the place. are you satisfied yet?”

penelope frowned a bit and sank back into the chair with a clearly disconsolate expression. she felt a little silly, just like y/n, who tried to straighten up a bit to give herself some dignity and brushed her skirt off her knee as if there were a few crumbs there, but they weren't.

"are you sure he was looking at your boobs and not your nails?" asked penelope after a moment.

"yes."

“well, then he is indeed a loser without a boat. pity. i liked his chin."

"oh, penelope," sighed y/n and smiled slightly as the blonde did the same.

y/n bent down again to put the magazines back in the plastic bag, and spencer moved his leg slightly, hoping the tense atmosphere had just ended. he didn't quite know what he could do if things got worse. he was also pleased to hear about the reunion of mark and y/n. he hoped he'd gotten away with it and wouldn't try to be interested in her again, but at the same time he wondered what he'd do if he heard the y/n words himself. yeah, rather not, or something. it sounded like his personal hell.

"pretty girl is back!"

they looked towards the pool. morgan was walking toward them in red swimming trunks that went past his knees, arms wide open, the corner of his mouth raised dangerously. apparently the little volleyball match had just ended; hotch was disappearing inside rossi's house as jj and emily were slowly approaching them.

"so what? we are going to play the game?" morgan asked, aiming the words at the y/n.

for a brief moment, the woman's face showed surprise, but then her mouth curved into a mocking grimace.

"if i didn't know you, morgan, i'd think you liked being humiliated. sure we're playing, i just need to get changed." y/n got up from the lounger and, grabbing the shopping bag, headed for the patio doors. as she passed the morgan, she looked over her shoulder at him, whispering, "i'll destroy you."

"you wish, honey." derek snorted, but it was hard to tell if y/n had heard his words because she didn't react to them in any way.

you wish, honey. he wondered what reaction y/n would get if he called her that nickname. he wasn't very good with words and it would probably end up painfully awkward. spencer would like to be like morgan — smooth in conversation, which he was able to combine with his appearance. would like to talk to y/n per honey. or whatever y/n finds attractive.

spencer saw the woman stop by rossi and hand him a crossword puzzle book, and the man patted her hand, giving her a smile. he didn't even notice how it appeared on his face as well. y/n was good, generous and open-minded, and spencer knew he could count on her, and that other people important to him could count on her, too.

"come on reid, get ready." threw derek in his direction, waking him from his lethargy.

spencer looked at him with surprise and maybe a little fear in his eyes. after years of being near derek's desk, he was used to the little teases derek gave him — he understood that they were never intended to hurt him, and he usually brushed them off or tried to respond to them in a similar way. but he also knew that sometimes morgan couldn't keep his mouth shut, and he feared that derek's swashbuckling smirk had something to do with y/n. he didn't know what it was yet, but he sure had it.

at the same time, emily and jj also appeared, sitting together on the deckchair on the other side of penelope and smiling at them, clearly tired.

"morgan, haven't you had enough? i wouldn't mess with y/n, she's pretty good at this stuf," emily muttered, scratching her ankle. "if i were you, i wouldn't pick myself up after a second failure."

"oh yeah, she took extra classes when she was in high school." jj supported her, nodding her head.

"oh please. i gave you a head start. like the gentleman i am." derek leaned forward with his hand on his chest, and they shook their heads in amusement.

spencer was about to ask what exactly it was about when the patio doors slid open again. automatically he looked towards the terrace and involuntarily parted his lips.

for a brief moment he thought he couldn't make any sound, let alone understandable and logical words. he didn't know what made him more emotional — how pretty y/n's face looked in the two braids that were now bouncing gently with her steps, or maybe the fact that her swimsuit was really litty and even spencer's mind wasn't in the mood could prepare him for how amazing she could look in it.

it was a two-piece, bottle green. spencer could see the bindings that held the top of the suit together — the ones at the nape of his neck (which he had seen before) and moments ago when she had her back to him for two seconds, closing the door behind her, also the one on her back. in addition, on both sides of her hips there were similar, but indetachable, decorative strings.

despite his sincere wish not to think too much of her in that particular sinful way, he had to refrain from imagining a moment when he would be allowed to pull either of them.

“i was just telling a pretty boy to get ready to kick his ass,” morgan said as y/n stopped in front of them.

"you didn't mention any kicking my ass and i still don't know what you mean," spencer replied, then frowned as penelope put in something from her kindle about how she liked it when he said ass.

"oh yes." y/n grabbed the end of one of the braids and gave him an apologetic look. “so a month ago morgan saw my volleyball medals while he was helping me redecorate my bedroom and said we absolutely had to go against him because he thinks he’s totally rocking.”

"because i rock."

"anyway, this morning while you were still sleeping, i got a little competitive and got you involved too." she sounded like she was genuinely sorry, but when her gaze met derek, her tone changed completely. "so you better stretch yourself morgan or we're going to crush you completely!"

y/n shot both of her index fingers at derek, and he laughed out loud and walked off towards the pool, where the woman's narrowed eyes led him.

spencer swallowed hard and clenched his hands again on the cover of his book. it was a real disaster unfolding to the cheers of the girls as y/n started her warm-up with feigned zeal.

subconsciously, he knew that he wasn't some important part of this two-man team — y/n clearly had no plans to involve him in the game beforehand, and it probably came about as a result of everyone's familiar scuffles between her and derek. yet he felt his stomach turn inside out again as he thought about the fact that he would have to take part in a game in which he was hopeless in front of everyone else.

"y/n." the woman looked at him, with a determined expression on her face, although a moment ago she had just been training her menacing gaze under the supervision of emily, whose role of focused trainer was not going very well. "can we talk somewhere else?"

"sorry girls, we have to talk about our super tactics"

they walked to the opposite end of the pool, hearing the excited voices of the girls behind them, who were just in the process of coming up with cheering slogans. spencer felt even worse when he thought that apparently most of the team knew about the planned showdown between y/n and derek and were looking forward to it.

"the thing is, i hit in your direction and you take straight to his half and so twenty-five times..."

"y/n, i'm not good at volleyball. actually, i'm not good at any sport that requires physical exertion." he confessed, reluctantly interrupting her.

for a nanosecond, y/n's enthusiasm waned a bit, but then she frowned, confused.

"what are you talking about? i'm sure you're great. besides, you're tall!" she remarked, sending him a smile and shrugging.

"and what about it?"

"all volleyball players are tall." she shrugged again, and spencer sighed softly.

then y/n turned serious and placed her hands on his thin shoulders. even though her hands were only touching him through the gray cotton t-shirt he was wearing, spencer felt the tips of his ears turn red gradually.

the team knew about his reluctance to have close physical contact, and spencer made sure that all new people he met were also informed. he knew penelope had told y/n about it before the woman noticed him sitting at his desk, and he was grateful to her that he had missed this awkward conversation. however, spencer quickly realized that he actually doesn't mind physical contact as long as the person he's having it with is y/n.

her acts of kindness and friendship drew him into his terrible crush with each working day, and made him more and more aware of the need for her touch. he had even unconsciously searched for it, provoking occasions for his fingertips to touch hers, to pass documents, for her arm to brush against his as they walked down the not-too-wide corridor to the briefing room, and for his hand to be within reach, when one day the plugs in the office went out and it became completely dark.

he naively thought he was being discreet about it — but the team quickly noticed his lack of aversion to her touch and made jokes about it. spencer hoped that their remarks didn't reach y/n and that she didn't notice it herself — he was able to make do with whatever physical intimacy she unwittingly gave him.

however, he realized that y/n arranged the touch herself, almost on the same level as she maintained with the rest of the team.

now she was staring deep into his eyes, and reid hoped the red didn't spread to his cheeks as well.

"listen to me, spencer. i won't say it's just for fun because i'm fucking desperate to win and i'm not going to give morgan the satisfaction, but i will say that i believe your volleyball player is deep inside of you and just needs a gentle push to bring him to the surface," she whispered, which made spencer look pained.

"i'm afraid he's already there. he's floating, more precisely. because he's dead."

"you see? it's not so bad if you still have your sense of humor," she laughed, patting his shoulder, but her laughter died away as she crossed arms over her chests, leaning towards him with a worried expression. he tried not to show the disappointment of losing her hand on his body. "spencer, i can tell derek you don't want to play. i know i should have asked you first."

"what's going on there?! y/n, you can give up now!" derek leaned against the wall of his half of the field with a grin and waited for them to arrive.

they looked in his direction, but y/n quickly returned her gaze to spencer's face.

he knew that volleyball was not his strong suit. just as he knew the last thing he wanted was to humiliate himself in front of the team and, of course, in front of y/n because of it. but he noticed how excited she was. and he didn't want her to lose the sparkle in her eyes he saw when she explained their rather unreal tactics to him.

"i'll do it," he decided at last, nodding his head a few times, just in case, to confirm himself in this decision.

y/n opened her mouth in surprise and grabbed his wrist as he started towards the pool, forcing him to meet her eyes again.

"spencer, if you really don't want to, you don't have to."

"yeah, but suddenly i felt like kicking morgan's ass," he replied, though he didn't really know if he wanted to. he wanted to give her what she wanted, of that he was sure.

y/n stared at him intently, probably searching for something to contradict his words, but reid made sure his expression was convincing enough. in the end, the girl lost the fight with a huge smile, and from her chest came an excited sound like a combination of a squeak and a giggle.

"i like it when you say ass too!" she said and stole a kiss on his cheek, immediately turning on her heel and stepping into the pool.

spencer turned crimson and involuntarily raised his hand to touch his fingertips to the place where the muted pink y/n lips touched his skin. chill out a bit.

as he had predicted, he was not doing very well. emily, jj and penelope moved the sunbeds a little closer to the pool for a better view and started cheering for their team right from the start, which only distracted spencer and put even more pressure on him.

in addition, although he had suspected it for a long time, but now he was convinced of it, y/n, despite the whole package of good qualities, also had some worse ones, such as an unhealthy desire to compete and a need to be the best.

things seemed pretty stable at first — y/n let morgan go surfing first, definitely determined to win. she hit the first few throws and then ended them with a strong knockout of the ball that sprayed the water, announcing their first point. actually because of her, but y/n held up her hands for a high five as if it was a joint effort.

then there was a slight complication as derek hit the ball towards him, which spencer didn't expect at all and his bounce was too light for the ball to go over the net. y/n reassured him that everything was fine and kept playing, but spencer felt like the worst person in the world, especially since emily moaned in agony, even though that was only the first point lost (she had already taken another sip of something lemon yellow, but it wasn't lemonade and she was getting a little cranky).

y/n quickly rebounded and gained the upper hand, and spencer even managed to hit the ball a few times without sending it to the net or out of the water court. but eventually the losing streak came back and they lost points again, and a crease appeared between y/n's eyebrows that made spencer nervous.

it was twenty-two to nineteen for morgan, and the man had already indulged in a few snide comments. y/n with obvious impatience somehow made the ball finally hit the water on morgan's side and passed the ball to spencer with a serious expression.

reid liked it a lot better when he wasn't closer to the pool walls, and didn't get a few stressful stares on his shoulders while he was surfing, especially since he'd hit the ball out of court way too often. in addition, now he was sure that if he repeated it, he would hear a martyrdom moan not from emily's lips, but from y/n. then he would allow himself a small humiliating drowning.

he sighed softly, rolling the ball over in his hand. the kids at his school bounced it hard on the floor to give it a better bounce. spencer couldn't do that now, and he wasn't really sure if the tactic worked. every time he was in this place, he thought about how what he was best at would help him. however, there was not enough time to mess with physics.

he hit the ball down, grimacing, just in case.

however, contrary to his expectations, the ball went over the net and began to fall within the pool area, not on the stone path outside it.

out of the corner of his eye, he saw the corner of y/n's mouth twitch slightly upwards. the ends of her braids were wet with chlorinated water and dripping drops; spencer, wanting to preserve what little dignity he had, held back with all his might lest his gaze fall a little lower, where the drops ran down her skin and into the hollow between her breasts. he also judiciously ignored the fact that the soaked fabric of her bikini clung to her body, which seemed to reflect the sun's rays and seemed to glisten slightly. plus, her…

he couldn't say exactly what had happened, but he knew that one moment he was watching the y/n body moving in slow motion, and the next he was bended in half, feeling a dizzying, sharp pain shoot through his head. he remembered holding his hands to his face, feeling his nose twitch as still as a cartoon character who had just rung a big bell, and there was sudden chaos around him; several voices rose in surprise, someone close to him shouted his name, and the water around him surged, pushing him against the pool wall. he also felt something drip onto his fingers.

"god, spencer!" delicate, wet yet warm hands brushed uncertainly over his still veiled face, and spencer recognized the terrified y/n in that voice.

"dude, now you've got nothing left!"

"seriously, derek?!" y/n was furious, but when she turned to him again, her voice was soft but still nervous. "spencer, look at me. everything's all right?! pass the towel! rossi, go get the keys, we're going to the hospital! may be broken!"

the nose wasn't broken. which spencer knew as soon as he managed to get his questions answered from the panic-stricken team. no one noticed the swelling, and no hematomas appeared under his eyes; the profuse bleeding that y/n was trying to stop with more and more tissues, and the pain he felt didn't have to be signs of a fracture, though they could. the team wasn't going to take his word for it anyway, and hotch, though the most composed of the group, was firmly pressing on the accelerator.

spencer, apart from feeling like everything was spinning around him from time to time, he felt a bit overwhelmed; there was too much noise around him — his friends were arguing about who was to blame for his accident, y/n had her hand over his face (although he assured her he could still hold a few tissues) and was squeezing his hand tight, increasing the pressure when she was responding to morgan.

when they got to the hospital, and the doctor finally treated their panicked group, he only confirmed what spencer had suspected all along. he didn't even have a concussion, and this disturbingly profuse hemorrhage was caused by the rupture of a larger vessel. recommended ice packs and rest. something spencer could prescribe for himself.

they back to rossi's house in a slightly less nervous mood, though y/n didn't speak to derek, who had repeatedly apologized not only to spencer but also to her. y/n, however, seemed adamant and still preoccupied with the situation. spencer suspected she felt guilty because she had talked him into it, after all, though he had mentioned to her once or twice that it was nothing and that all symptoms would be gone by tonight.

as they crossed the threshold of the house, three waiting heads appeared from behind the living room wall, and again there was a din of explaining everything to the rest of the team, who had to stay because of emily's tip. spencer finally managed to get out of their company and quickly disappeared into his room before anyone noticed him.

from that moment on, two hours passed, which spencer spent lying motionless with an ice pack against his face. he stared at the ceiling and multiplied every now and then the number of panels on the floor. there was an eerie silence downstairs, and spencer wondered if everything was all right down there.

he was about to decide to get out of bed and go downstairs when there were two single knocks against his door. he called the person inside, and after a while a y/n head appeared.

"i have a bowl for your used ice pack and your book you left on the sun lounger," she said softly, smiling, seemingly slightly confused.

"come in," he replied, just as quietly, though there was no reason for them to communicate that way.

the previously awkward y/n grimace turned into her beautiful smile as she slipped inside, closing the door behind her. she was clutching his book to her chest and in the other hand she was holding the purple plastic bowl spencer had seen in the kitchen cupboard this morning.

he involuntarily smiled as he thought of how y/n reminded him of a small child who had just managed to sneak into a friend's room despite the watchful eyes of his parents — she jumped on his bed, then sat cross-legged and sighed heavily as spencer pulled the compress away from his face, to put it in the bowl.

"is it that bad?" he joked, raising his eyebrows to which y/n snorted mockingly.

"you don't even know how much. you look exactly the same!” she laughed as she placed the bowl with compress on the bedside table by spencer's bed. to do so, she had to lean over him, and this time the scent of her floral shampoo and mango lotion filled his nostrils; she must have taken a shower afterwards because he couldn't smell the chlorine on her. however, when y/n returned to her seat, her expression became a little more serious. "how do you feel? i know everyone asked you this way too many times already, but i'm really worried."

"much better. i think i've stopped feeling that throbbing pain, although that may just be because of the ice," he replied, smiling slightly. "and hey, you don't have to worry so much about it. i already told you it's okay and it's not your fault."

"yeah, but still. i don't know what we'd do if you slashed that pretty face."

spencer frowned as if he disliked her words, but y/n just laughed again. in fact, he had already wondered a few times if the fact that y/n called him pretty boy, like morgan, meant anything at all. a large number of voices in his head said that this was just another habit that the girl had picked up from derek, as she had done in the case of throwing balls of paper into the garbage cans. however, there was a part that made spencer's cheeks a little pink when he heard those words come out of her mouth. sometimes hearing it from her was completely different than hearing it from anyone else.

"yeah, morgan has already pointed that out," he said finally, feeling it had to be done.

it seems like y/n was just waiting for spencer to mention morgan because she suddenly gasped and jumped up on the mattress, frowning.

“you know, i was joking now, but it really pissed me off at the time! i was terrified because i had never seen so much blood while doing anything other than catching serial killers, and i thought it could end up much worse than a broken nose. and derek didn't care at all!" y/n's hands engaged the aggressive gesticulation mode that appeared on the horizon when she was really high. "i was so furious with him! and his irritating taunts on the way to the hospital!”

"what taunts?" he asked, confused.

of course he was aware that y/n and morgan had spent the entire drive to the hospital arguing, with garcia joining in from time to time, now trying to get them to agree, now putting in her two cents as if she couldn't hold back any longer. at the time, however, he was too preoccupied with his bleeding nose and maybe a little y/n touch as well to notice what exactly their heated discussion was about.

"never mind, suitably stupid for his level," y/n grunted, blushing unexpectedly and tucking her hair behind her ear, though not a strand fell to her cheek. “anyway, i had a bit of an argument with him, and now i feel a little guilty about him because, i have to admit, i went a bit too far. but i won't apologize to him so he doesn't think about it too much."

"but you'll reconcile, won't you? it would be a bit awkward if you won't," he murmured, partly to her, partly to himself.

before y/n could answer, however, the door swung open timidly after three hasty knocks. derek morgan's head looked inside, as if the man was well aware that they were talking about him and decided to intervene. however, there was a swashbuckling smile on his lips, the kind you couldn't be angry at.

"hey hey..." he crooned, smiling even wider. "how it's going?"

"how it should?" y/n answered the question with a question, annoyance evident in her voice. "he almost got a concussion."

"not at all," spencer interjected, but he was ignored by each of them.

"i'm sorry mom, it won't happened again," derek replied, making y/n utter an exasperated sigh. morgan walked in even though no one had actually invited him and approached them with a mysterious plastic bag in his hand. “penelope gave me a hint so i could think of a way to finally settle the conflict, and here it is: the chinese you obviously love. appreciate my efforts, pretty girl, they had to bring her from another town.”

"then i guess the thanks go to the supplier, mr. morgan," y/n noticed, and spencer saw that there was an amused sparkle behind the sternness of her gaze. the girl accepted the takeaway, much to morgan's satisfaction, and arranged it beside her. "nice of you. i stopped being mad at you about an hour and a half ago, but it's still cool."

morgan reached out to flick her nose and y/n slapped it, laughing loudly.

spencer, sitting with his legs stretched forward, leaned against the back of his wooden bed, watching their interaction. with displeasure he felt a nasty jealousy sprouting in his stomach; something about the sight of their casual touch, each of them knowing that this quarrel and the words that accompanied it had no meaning, made him almost see the green covering his fingers. and they had done it all right in front of him.

spencer laughed mentally. he was really pathetic — morgan and y/n were friends. and y/n still wasn't going to consider him, even if he got punched in the nose.

"oh, dude. i'd like to get punched in the nose too if it meant y/n would look after me," morgan sighed dreamily, turning to spencer, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"i'll take care of you too, morgan, if that's what you want. but before that, i'll give you a nose so we'll have one reason," y/n replied, causing the man to chuckle in an amused tone as he backed away towards the door.

"okay, i understand, i'm leaving now. have fun, kids," he said, then disappeared through the heavy door.

y/n shook her head, turning her body towards spencer. her silken hair, which had been braided since spencer had first laid eyes on her that afternoon, now fell over her shoulders, which were no longer covered by the t-shirt she had thrown on in a hurry as everyone ran around rossi's living room, occasionally catching spencer's shoulder, as if to reassure themselves that he was still standing there. she was wearing something a lot more elegant now, which belied spencer's idea that she had already showered. in that case, she'd already be wearing her yellow turtleneck pajamas, which spencer raised his eyebrows at the first time they had to share a room during the case.

instead of yellow turtles, reid saw a plain, rather thin, black shirt tucked into denim shorts. and it didn't look like a sleep suit. but actually spencer shouldn't be interested in that.

pushing those tactless thoughts away, he reached out for the plastic bag morgan had brought them.

it was filled with distinctive boxes, the sharp edges of which pushed the plastic bag apart, and the smell that wafted from them despite the paper reminded spencer of all those late nights spent with y/n in hotel rooms, during which the television was told by a weary voice about the life of individual species, and the woman was in the so close to him that her shoulder touched his. he only liked the smell for those memories.

y/n leaned over with interest to look at the bag as well. spencer realized after a short while that the girl's forehead was not far from his, and a little surprised by the sudden closeness, he lifted his head to look at her. y/n did the same, feeling his burning gaze on her and smiled softly without breaking eye contact.

for a brief moment, he felt as if there was absolutely nothing else around them. there were only y/e/c y/n irises, her lightly freckled nose that was to blame for the sun, and her pink lips. lips he would love to kiss. or even brush his own lips.

but before he opened it to say anything that might lead to that, his bedroom door groaned heavily, as it did when it was opened very slowly. they pulled away from each other almost immediately, turning their heads in their direction. spencer, for an irrational moment, even thought that hotch might be behind them, about to lead him out of his own room by the ear like a rascal of the worst kind. jesus, spencer, he reminded himself, you're a grown man. if you want to kiss a woman, you will.

however, it wasn't hotch's head that emerged from behind the door, but emily, who didn't seem as frisky as she had been a few hours ago. she eyed each of them and walked inside to the accompaniment of expectant silence from them.

"are you guys kissing?" she asked after a moment, an excited smile on her face as she tilted her head slightly.

"what? no!" spencer thought y/n seemed pretty flustered considering the fact that their faces were inches apart just moment ago and she was clearly trying to pretend that none of this had happened. well, nothing that spencer wasn't prepared for.

"say what you want. reid looks like a ripe tomato."

spencer choked on his own saliva, drawing the women's attention, and his hand immediately reached for the glass on his nightstand, which was half full of water.

"i-it's a compress." he wanted to somehow explain what his face looked like, but no one, including himself, seemed convinced (and the water had been standing here since last night and tasted bad).

"of course…"

"i thought you were going to look for a club," y/n put in a quick, drawing emily's attention back to her.

"because we're going. i just came to drop it off." emily held out a sealed magazine to her friend, in which reid recognized a nature documentary. "what a shame you're not going. it's always more fun with you."

"you'll be fine without me," she replied y/n, getting out of bed and walking over to the small TV set in the corner of the room. she sat down in front of the cabinet he was standing on and began unpacking the magazine with a concentrated frown. "thanks, emily. just don't overdo it this time, okay? you've already had a drink today."

"boredom!" the dark-haired woman dragged out the first syllable, grabbing the doorknob. "you talking like jj! i'm leaving before you infect me with your innocence!"

emily had indeed disappeared through the bedroom door, and after a while the sound of her heels could be heard as they left the floor in a hurry.

there was a silence in the room, one that y/n would surely describe as safely comfortable; such silences sometimes happened between them when they were filling out paperwork at their desks, sharing dried fruit (y/n loved dried apples, a fact spencer consciously remembered) when they were sitting side by side on the jet, sharing headphones because y/n wanted to show him her current musical obsession, or when they sat on the benches outside the office building during their lunch break and ate their breakfasts. they were good silences. and maybe that silence would be good too if spencer's brain wasn't working at full capacity. all the information he had gathered in the last dozen or so minutes was quite plausible.

"a penny for your thoughts, doctor," hummed y/n as she focused on pressing buttons on the rossi player; it was one of the more expensive ones, because it not only read vhs tapes, but also dvds. "i can hear them even from this distance."

"it's nothing, it's just... i wonder why you don't go out with girls," he replied after a moment's hesitation.

from his seat on the bed, he could see y/n's eyebrows frown a bit, but he wasn't sure if it was because of her ignorance about using the player or because of his words.

"i was about to go, i even let penelope rummage through my suitcase," she confessed. the player finally listened to her and slid out the dvd drive, where a disc with a nature documentary soon landed. “but i thought about the first day of our trip that i spent watching some action movie with morgan, and yesterday i got drunk with the girls. we miss each other a bit, don't you think? and today, when we finally did something together, you ended up in the hospital. so we'll lighten our spirits with some fun-facts about the insects of africa. how about that, doctor?"

spencer smiled weakly as y/n looked over her shoulder at him. now he felt even worse than when morgan had hit him with the volleyball — it all sounded to him as if y/n had decided to sacrifice a girls' night out of guilt and resentment for spending time with him.

“y/n, you should go out with the girls. it will probably be much more interesting than here with me,” he said finally, but as the words hung between them, he didn't feel any easier than he'd expected, and even harder. especially since y/n looked over her shoulder at him again, her brows heavily furrowed.

"you're kidding? i'd much rather eat chinese and watch a nature documentary with you than walk emily home drunk." she shook her head as if he had said the stupidest thing she had heard in a long time; the TV brightened up and showed the output page of the document. "by the way... we haven't watched anything together lately... i missed it."

"you miss it?" he stammered, perhaps a little too surprised in a voice judging by the way y/n was clearly confused, blushing.

“well, yes… i have the impression that this is our little tradition. you know, something that's only ours. i can't imagine morgan watching nature documents with us, because who would you whisper additional information into the ear first?” she asked, involuntarily laughing softly.

she got up off the floor, holding the remote in her right hand as she turned off the light with her left. the room went dark, and spencer swallowed hard, seeing the figure of y/n slowly approaching him, crouching by the nightstand to flick the light switch.

the light, dimmed by the lampshade, was a soft red that spread over the walls of the room. spencer felt like y/n had never looked so beautiful, and at the same time he felt the tension in the air.

"it's cool, i like it," whispered y/n, sitting tentatively on the edge of the mattress, near his hips. "but you've been acting weird lately and we stopped doing that."

"weird?" he repeated, frowning. god, he wanted so badly to place his hands behind her ear at that moment and pull her to him; he wanted the moment before emily came back.

“you stopped talking to me, starting conversations on your own and all. i felt like i was the only one trying. every time i walked into the room you and the team stopped talking and all eyes were on me. i don't need to be a profiler to know you were talking about me. but everyone said it wasn't about me, so i guess i let it go a bit and tried not to think about it too much, but it still wasn't the same between us." as she spoke, y/n kept her head down and didn't seem to want to look up at him. "i thought you'd come to my room when we had a case in chester like always, but you didn't. and not later either. and later too. and you acted like nothing happened. plus, it really annoyed me that you stared at me without saying a word, and when i asked what was going on, you said it was nothing, but then you did it again."

y/n jumped out of bed, crossing her arms over her chest. she also began pacing in a characteristic way, as if in thought. her eyes roamed all the furniture she could find, but finally fixed her gaze on him.

"okay, am i exaggerating? i feel like i kind of did, and now i've said all those things and i feel really stupid…”

"no!" spencer raised his voice a little more than was necessary. he sprang up from the mattress, tired of the thought that the woman might think that the matter they were discussing was not important to him. "i…"

"stay still, the doctor said you might get dizzy," y/n interrupted him as she approached him.

"i'm not dizzy," he replied, but y/n had already reached out to him, as if to gently push him towards the bed.

"lie down," she insisted, but without much thought spencer grabbed her hands and lowered them to the level of their hips.

"no, listen to me. i'm sorry i've been acting this way lately," he said, and when he finally realized he was holding y/n's hands firmly, he let go a bit, but not too much; so that he can still touch her warm skin. “i… i was avoiding you a bit because the whole trip was so stressful and i started thinking too much and it influenced my behavior, but…

"stressful? why?"

"because... it's so stupid." he ran his hand through his hair, but his dark strands fell over his forehead anyway; it made him even angrier. “the thing is, i realized we'd start spending time together outside of work, and then you'd see i'm the same spencer from the office when i'm not at the office. and then you'll realize what a boring person i am and you won't want to hang out with me anymore. and i... i like you, y/n. i like you so much that i'm afraid of losing you because of me."

y/n frowned worriedly, tilting her head slightly. for a brief moment she stared at a point on his shoulder, as if searching for the right words. spencer, on the other hand, was feeling more and more nauseous as it dawned on him that perhaps the words he'd used shouldn't have been spoken to his friends, even though they sneakily sounded appropriate.

"well..." y/n sighed, leading him back to the mattress where they sat next to each other. spencer anticipated the worst and was slowly starting to feel like the biggest fool. he had a big mouth and always talked too much, everyone told him so. "i guess it's good that you're still spencer from the office when you're out of the office, right? because i wouldn't want you to be anyone else."

he looked at her and the woman smiled softly, still holding his hand.

"and you're not boring and i can't believe you think that of yourself! you're the most interesting person i know," she assured. “you are the only person in my circle of friends with whom i can watch all the movies in the world, because there is a 99% chance that you will be able to translate dialogues for me fluently! and the only one who can read and summarize the book i forgot to read for my book club, and i didn't have to be an ignorant who doesn't know anything about "pride and prejudice."

“you got all the threads with mr. darcy mixed up anyway,” he reminded her, smiling at the memory.

"i know and that's why i don't go there anymore!" y/n laughed as well, her shoulders trembling slightly.

even now he could picture in his mind the moment y/n walked into the office, heading without thinking to his desk with an expression of pure horror and embarrassment. half laughing, half almost crying, she related to him a meeting of her book club she had started attending. she told him how she got everything mixed up and made a fool of herself in front of the young women. she also didn't hesitate to mention how she drank wine in large gulps until the end of the meeting, and yet she was the first to run out of katy's apartment.

he felt y/n squeeze his hand a little tighter and looked at it again. the nausea he was feeling subsided a bit and he even started laughing at his panicked fantasies — it was y/n; the kind, always natural, and generous y/n who could never think of him that way.

“look, i know who you are may seem boring to you, but to me, you're the coolest person i've ever met in my life. and the nicest. i still remember how you remembered my birthday when others forgot. and when you brought me soup when i was sick. and i had two soups, because my mother had already brought one. you remember all the little things i tell you. that i prefer coffee with caramel syrup over maple syrup. that in 7th grade i fell out of a tree and have a scar on my knee which i'd rather you forget because derek still teases me." their soft laughs echoed through the room again. "you're the best spencer.

"thanks," he whispered.

so that's what it was supposed to be. misunderstandings and inaccuracies are resolved, y/n will finally choose one of the options that were displayed on the screen of a small TV and spend the next hour side by side eating chilled food from a chinese restaurant. it wasn't something spencer would have hoped for if his earlier speech had been worded better, but something he expected when he said what he had to say. but that was fine. he learned to enjoy the little things.

but suddenly he felt y/n fingers under his chin, directing his gaze back to her face. they were so close it hurt.

"and you'll never lose me, spencer. you can't get rid of me that easily," she said, also in a whisper. "i'm like a venereal disease."

spencer frowned.

"it was a disgusting comparison."

"i know, sorry."

"y/n," he whispered, never taking his eyes off the deep hue of her irises that scanned his face.

"yeah?"

he swallowed once more, hoping that the remnants of courage didn't run down his esophagus as well. he wasn't sure and couldn't be, but maybe this was the moment he should have heeded morgan and penelope and emily and jj and rossi and hotch...

"when i said i like you, i meant that..."

"i know, spencer." y/n smiled softly, and spencer had the impression that her face was a little closer than it had been two seconds before. "and guess what... i like you too."

spencer cursed mentally and, sliding his hand into y/n's hair, pulled her even closer to him.

the kiss was a bit tentative at first, and a terrifying thought crossed his mind that perhaps he had been in too much of a hurry and had misread some of the signals — he had done that all too often, after all, and the y/n words might have had nothing to do with what he was saying, with what spencer thought they had. y/n, however, returned the kiss, giving it a new pace for it, tangling her fingers in his hair. then reid realized he had stopped thinking about anything.

all that mattered at that moment was the taste of y/n cherry lip gloss, her hands on his neck, and soon his arms and chest as she climbed onto his lap. spencer thought it was too much — her scent filled his nostrils, completely befuddled him, her hands craving for closeness tracing every curve of his body, making him dizzy — and at the same time he felt that he needed more.

he lifted the hand he'd been resting on the mattress and ran it over y/n's bare thigh, not sure if he was allowed to do it. her skin was smooth, warm and cool at the same time, and spencer wanted to know how other parts of her body felt. y/n smiled through the kiss, reaching for his wandering hand, which she then placed on her hip.

spencer took it a step further and moved her down her back to pull her closer to him. he wanted to be as close to her as possible, possibly even absorb himself into her, if that meant he would always feel the way he did now.

y/n moved her kisses to his cheek, jaw, and behind his ear, where she sucked his skin. spencer moaned softly, surprised, and the girl with a smile headed towards his neck, biting it with kisses.

"thank god penelope left the house," y/n mumbled into his skin, saying the words in between caresses. “she probably would have said her i knew it! or didn't i tell you?!"

spencer pulled back slightly, mouth parting speechless. he remembered perfectly well what penelope had said when he heard that they were going to watch a nature documentary, and now his mind, despite being completely distracted by this unexpected situation, connected the dots — the movie was on but still not quite and the y/n slowly starting to rubbing his hips — coming to an unequivocal conclusion.

"are we going to…?" the unfinished question hung in the air, making y/n's eyes widen.

"what? no! not if you don't want to!” she assured quickly, blushing furiously. “but we can if you want… but we don't have to do anything! kissing is cool too. we don't even have to kiss…"

"no!" he protested, straightening up a bit, for he had been leaning more on the mattress on his elbows than actually sitting on it. "no, i want to. i want… everything,” he whispered, much quieter now, slightly ashamed of his apparent need. after thinking about it, he added, "please?"

y/n's face stretched into his favorite kind of smile, and the woman leaned toward him once more, causing spencer to return to his previous position. out of the corner of his eye, he saw her hand reach for the TV remote. without breaking eye contact with him, she hit the play button and pulled him into a kiss as the documentary began.

spencer felt like he was about to pass out.

"jesus, you're so cute i could bite your nose if it didn't end well," she said, making him snort in amusement.

"what?" he asked, but y/n just laughed along with him and reached for the buttons on her shirt, slowly unbuttoning it, while kissing him.

spencer never in his wildest dreams would have thought that he could be right here — under the thighs of the most beautiful girl who, he was sure, would never look at him the way y/n was now sizing him up, exposing more and more naked patches of her skin. he breathed heavily, stroking the skin of her thighs as she slid off the black fabric. he didn't know exactly where he had landed, actually, he didn't know much at the moment. his iq didn't matter anymore, he was just a jerk who stared captivated at y/n's swimsuit-covered breasts, his mouth slightly parted and his gaze absent.

"something's wrong?" a soft y/n voice cut through his not very coherent thoughts and distracted him from the dark green fabric where the nipples poked through.

"no," he replied firmly, propping himself up on his elbows a bit to bring his lips closer to hers. "you're just beautiful."

he kissed her hard, feeling y/n lift the corners of his mouth, and his hand, previously resting on her leg, moved up to the woman's back, where the strings of her swimsuit brushed the nape of her neck.

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burntheedges · 6 days

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Maintenance Request Epilogue

Joel Miller x f!reader 18+ | ao3 | main post & chapter list chapter word count: 986

a/n: well, y'all. We made it. 😭 I hope you enjoy this peek into our favorite couple's lives. Thank you all so much for reading.

I have loved seeing all of your reactions and answering your asks about the fic this week (please keep sending more for the celebration if you'd like!). There will be more asks going up today and I'm linking them on the masterlist for the fic as I post them.

I'm getting emotional again. Thank you all. You're the best and I mean that so sincerely. 🧡 and thank you, as always, to @katareyoudrilling 🧡 I think we'll be back to visit these two (I've already got plans for something about Joel finding the poem from Ch 23 thanks to an ask from @toomanytookas) but this is it for the main story. (Also, today is my birthday, so thank you for celebrating with me.)

chapter tags/warnings: fluff, flirting, cuddling, pet names (darlin', honey, baby), allusions to smut

Epilogue

Saturday, May 10 Summer Break

It was a beautiful late spring day, with a light breeze rustling through Joel’s back garden. You stood on the back porch and turned your face to the sun, smiling at the view.

You were tired – you’d lifted so many boxes already that day, you couldn’t bring yourself to even consider opening any of them right now. As you tried and failed to will yourself to at least make a plan, you felt Joel step up behind you. He slid his arms around your waist and tucked his face into your neck.

“I like the way you look on this porch, darlin’. The way your stuff looks in the house. Our house.” He pressed a soft kiss to your neck. “Looks right.”

You grinned and leaned into him. “Well, that’s good, considering it’s way too late to change your mind now. All my books are here.” He huffed a laugh into your neck. “Once we mix them in with yours there’s no turning back. Gave up my keys and everything.” He pressed his smile into your neck in response.

You’d agreed to move in after the semester ended. Tommy, Beth, and Maria had helped, though they’d just left a few minutes ago – Tommy and Maria to return the moving truck, and Beth to pick up dinner. Tess had threatened Joel that he better have a housewarming party for you or else since she couldn’t make it.

You’d just gotten tired of lugging boxes around and stepped outside to see what Sarah, Ellie and Riley were up to. A sudden shout from the far end of the backyard drew your attention and you lifted up on your toes to try to see over Joel’s many plants.

He did the same, arms still wrapped around you, and asked, “any idea what those three hooligans are doing back there?”

You laughed. “Well, judging by the stuff they dragged back there with them, I have a pretty good idea.”

“Oh?” He nuzzled into your neck again, clearly not too concerned with their antics.

You nodded. “Mentos. And Diet Coke.”

He laughed, loud this time. “You’re kidding. They just discovered that old trick?”

“Seems so.”

“Feels like a different student tries it every term, so I guess I’m not surprised.” He sighed. “At least if they do it back there we don’t really have to clean it up, much.”

You elbowed him a little. “My thoughts exactly.” You were both quiet for a moment and you felt Joel relax into position behind you, leaning against the wall of the house and drawing you backwards to lean on him.

“You think Elllie’s got a plan for her room, yet?” He sounded concerned, but you knew it was because he was anxious to help her however he could.

“Yeah, she wants to freehand it. Some kind of mural.”

“Sounds like it’ll probably be pretty impressive. We can get her some paints, maybe tomorrow.”

You smiled at his offer. “Poor Tommy, kicked out of his room.”

Joel laughed at your words, but you felt him shake his head. “He’s busy with Maria, he don’t mind. Got better things to worry about these days.” You hummed, agreeing. “You know, darlin’, we got about half an hour before any of them get back.” He punctuated his statement with a quick nip to your neck and a thrust of his hips.

You snorted. “Joel Miller, are you propositioning me? In front of the kids?” You waved your arm towards the back of the yard.

He huffed a laugh into your neck. “They can’t hear us and I’ve been dying to get you alone all day. Honey, you live here now. You aren’t going to leave later because you’re already home. It’s driving me crazy just thinkin’ about it.”

You let your head fall back on his shoulder and grinned. “Half an hour, huh? Not a lot of time.”

He started pressing soft kisses down the side of your neck and you squirmed against him. “Enough time to make you come on my mouth, baby.”

You started to turn in his arms, already giving in, when there was a sudden, whooshing eruption and shrieks coming from the back of the yard. You laughed. “Sounds like they figured it out.”

“Hmm, let’s worry about that later.” He grinned at you as he started to walk backwards into the house, taking your hands in his to lead you. “We got things to do and the clock is ticking.”

Both of you started giggling as you dashed up the stairs. You almost fell into his (your) room and caught yourself on the dresser. He grinned at you as he closed the door before grabbing you by the waist to guide you onto the bed. “Pants off, darlin’. Let me show you how happy I am to have you home.”

Home. You smiled and did as he asked.

He was right, after all. You were home.

…

...Then love comes, like a sudden flight of birds from earth to heaven after rain. Your kiss, recalled, unstrings, like pearls, this chain of words. Huge skies connect us, joining here to there. Desire and passion on the thinking air. -- From “Rapture” by Carol Ann Duffy

It was like getting a love letter from a tree Eyes closed forever to find you— There is a life which if I could have it I would have chosen for myself from the beginning -- “The Poem” by Franz Wright

...

a/n: thank you all. 🧡

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@myloveistoolittle @iknowisoundcrazy @beezusvreeland @screechingphantommaker @bigboiseason123

@joelalorian @untamedheart81 @ashleyfilm @jessthebaker @jeewrites

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@glizzymcguirex @verymiraclemiracle @friskispunk

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fic #x reader #maintenance request fic #JHCGBDM

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zenkindoflove · 2 months

Text

Here you can find the complete list of my SJM fanfictions, moodboards, and playlists. I mostly write Elucien, Satharion, and Eris x OC.

Multichapter Fics

Summer Heat (E) - Elain x Lucien, Eris x Alexius (OC)

Complete, 114,890 words, 18/18 chapters

Summary: Summer Court is hosting the Summer Solstice Summit and the Night Court is sending their best emissaries to attend. It will be Elain's first time mingling in another court, and it's a good thing she has an expert guiding her: the mate she's been ignoring for the last two years. Meanwhile, Eris has been sent to the summit to spy on Summer's developments. What he doesn't anticipate is entangling in a steamy, forbidden romance

Eris x Alexius moodboard Ch 7

Eris x Alexius moodboard Ch 12

Eris x Alexius moodboard Ch 16

Eris x Alexius moodboard by @animezinglife

Eris x Alexius moodboard by @teddyhoneybear

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Burn Forever With Me (E) - Elain x Lucien

Complete, ~69,000 words

Summary: End of ACOSF. After Feyre's traumatic birth, Elain writes to Lucien seeking comfort and company. She soon realizes that opening up to him in letters is much easier without her family's constant presence. But how long can she keep falling for Lucien a secret?

NSFW art of Ch 13 by @works-of-heart

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Dear Lucien, Dear Elain: An Epistolary Fic (M) - Elain x Lucien, collab with @crazy-ache

WIP, 10/13 chapters posted

Summary: Epistolary (adj., of a literary work) in the form of letters. After the winter solstice in ACOSF, Elain and Lucien exchange letters as a means to get to know each other away from prying eyes. This fic is a collection of those letters.

************************************

Pull Me in Deeper (E) Eris x Alexius (OC)

WIP, 4/?? chapters posted

Summary: Needing more alliances, Eris strikes a deal with Helion: go to the continent and find out information for him, and Day Court will support him usurping Beron. What he didn’t account for is the beautiful Day Court emissary accompanying him that makes his heart race while being such a thorn in his side.

************************************

Short Fics

Kneel Before Me (E) - Elain x Lucien

One-shot, ~11,000 words

Summary: Lucien arrives at the House of Wind, only to be drawn into a sparring match with none other than the Inner Circle's own Shadowsinger. Things get out of hand and Azriel discovers whether he really can defeat Lucien easily.

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I Think I Saw You in My Sleep (E) - Elain x Lucien

One-shot, ~10,000 words

Summary: The dreams of him come from the mating bond, but Elain wants them to stay.

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Our Hearts Still Beat the Same (E) - Elain x Lucien

Two-shot, ~17,000 words

Summary: "She stood on the bridge for a few minutes, hoping that the rain might wash away the seething anger and bottomless anguish that crackled under her skin. More, more, more, repeated again and again to a steady beat. His heart beat." Part One is Cozy Tension. Part Two is all smut.

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The Art of Seducing Your Merman Husband (E) - Sathia Flynn x Tharion Ketos

Two-shot, ~7,000 words

Summary: When Sathia realizes that Tharion is purposely ignoring all of her attempts at seduction, she decides on Valentine's Day that the only way to finally get her husband in her bed is to make a gesture so obvious, that even a merman with one brain cell would figure it out.

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Embrace (M) - Elain x Lucien

One-shot, ~2,800 words

Summary: Elain is on a journey of embracing her Faeness. When studying Lucien's pierced ears, an idea forms in her head that she can't shake.

************************************

Lone (T) - Andras x Clare Beddor

One-shot, ~4,300 words

Summary: Clare Beddor is dead, and she haunts the woods of The Middle. A skinless wolf shows up one day, he has a story to tell, and it reeks of revenge.

Moodboard

Ficlets Masterlist - Mix of Elucien, Satharion, and Eris x OC.

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Taste of You (E) - Eris x Alexius (OC)

One-shot, 2,200 words

Summary: Eris and his mate Alexius are on a tour of Autumn. Alexius is feeling cooped up in the carriage and Eris has an idea of how to release some tension. PWP

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Miscellaneous

Marry Me: a Satharion playlist

Elucien 1980s clinch cover fanart

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You can find all of my SJM fanfiction as well as other fandoms on AO3.

#elucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #eris vanserra #satharion #eris x oc #sathia x tharion #sathia flynn #tharion ketos #elain x lucien #zenkindoflove: masterlist #zenkindoflove: pinned post #redoing this to spruce it up

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gg-pedro · 4 months

Text

can you hear the music (ch. 6) - joel miller x reader

masterlist

summary: everyone in jackson is trying to distract themselves from something. you teach ellie piano, and you find yourself trying to help more than one miller settle into their new world.

chapter 5: joel loves you, and you let him. you could live a million more days like this.

warnings: post outbreak!joel, jackson!era, joel x reader, AFAB!reader, platonic!ellie x reader, protective!joel, implied age gap, unprotected piv, ellie plays the piano, sweet smut, fingering, joel needs taking care of, bittersweet fluff, but almost entirely fluff, happy ending :)

words: 5.5k

a/n: grand finale! i hope i delivered for all of you. thank you endlessly, and from the bottom of my heart, for reading and supporting my stuff and this series. its been so incredibly fun and fulfilling. enjoy this!!

Life was sweet. Life was good.

You blinked and spring had become summer. The fields grew unruly with wild grass and baby’s breath, the sun shined longer. Clouds lingered, but they didn’t stay. Days were hot and saccharine.

You heard music everywhere. In the swallows outside your window at dawn, the rustle in the pear trees when the wind blew, in Joel’s voice when he hummed you to sleep. In the creaks in the floorboards that you had memorized as his footsteps, the hymns and nursery rhymes that kids sang, and in your old upright piano that was slowly losing falling out of tune.

It had been quiet for so long, but now it was loud– deafening at times. Impossible not to notice.

The best music of all, perhaps, was the songs Ellie was learning for the informal recital that you’d suggested she put on. And even sweeter than that was the way she’d changed since you first met. She no longer reminded you of a scared little girl, always choosing the fight over the flight. She was strong and bubbly and hilarious, and watching her find a reason to be proud of herself was even more rewarding than watching her become a talented musician.

The song selection was completely inappropriate, but it was perfect anyway: Billy Joel’s Uptown Girl (for her Joel, of course), the Jurassic Park theme, and finally, Ain’t Too Proud To Beg by the Temptations.

The two of you were conspiring against Joel for weeks now, planning the surprise for him and practicing whenever you got the chance.

You had a sneaking suspicion that he and Ellie were hiding something from you, too. Ellie was far too giddy when she saw the two of you together. She lingered a little too long after dinner, or when you were sleeping over, or when you’d planned a day to spend together.

If Ellie had one fault, it was that she was awful at keeping secrets.

After inviting you out on a horse ride through the outskirts of the perimeters of Jackson, Joel took a detour. He went northward, through the green woods and out into a clearing, and you were soon back at the white farmhouse.

It looked the same, aside from a little more wear on the outside from this year’s harsh winter and wet spring. The roof was still caving in and the doorway was still open. The ivy was thriving, twisting up towards the peak where the sun had worn away at the crisp white paint.

“You wanna see the inside?” Joel asked, glancing over his shoulder at you.

“Is it safe?”

“I’m here, ain’t I?”

He helped you slide off the back of the mare, your hand slid instinctively into his as you walked up to the wrap around porch. Inside, the interior was fitted with dark hardwood and floral wallpaper that had started to fade and peel. In the front sitting room, the sun had bleached the upholstered arm chairs and faded the photos on the wall. Still, it was beautifully preserved, clear that this place was home to a lifetime of memories.

The breeze blowing in through the front door was warm as Joel took both of your hands into his. He was slightly tanned now, and patches of his salt and pepper hair looked more caramel. You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling when you looked at him– he was gorgeous, and you loved him, and he was yours.

“I know I can’t give you this,” he started quietly. “I wish I could, baby. I would if I could.”

“I’d never ask you for this, Joel,” you countered.

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re sweet and you never ask for things, not even if you wanted to.” He brought up a hand to brush your hair behind your ears. He always said he liked it when it was out of the way, because he liked seeing your face. “I’m wanna ask you for somethin’, though”

“Okay, shoot.”

“I want you to move in. With us. Me and Ellie. Before you–”

“Joel–”

“–she really looks up to you, you’re good for her. It’d mean somethin’ to her, and to me. I know, I know, I’ve asked you a hundred times, but I’m askin’ for real this time,” he said, cutting you off once and for all.

“It wasn’t real all those other times?” You looked at him with a smile. “What would we be then, if we lived together? What would you call me?”

His partner. His wife? Just his, maybe.

You looked away from him for a moment, watching the sunlight as it poured through the windows and highlighted everything in orange. The shelves propped up against the walls were lined with books and picture frames and knicknacks. There was still a throw blanket draped over the couch. People had built a life here, and were likely forced to abandon it all.

When you looked back, Joel was reaching into his pocket to pull out something that was small and caught in the light. It was thin and shiny gold, a ring with three symmetric diamonds set into the band. He took your hand, dirt under your clipped fingernails and all, and slid it onto your ring finger.

“I’m not askin’ you to marry me. We can call it that, if that means anythin’ to you. I just want to give you somethin’ nice. A nice life where I can keep you safe. We can paint the house, fix it up inside a little. Give you somethin’ like this. I’ll call you anything you want.”

You laughed at the way Joel was dancing around his words, and the way that he continuously fidgeted with the ring on your finger. Always avoiding strings, giving you a way out before you even had the chance to get a word in. You wished you had found a way in all this time to make him understand your commitment to him, without a ring or a pretty house or any of it.

You just rested your hands on his shoulders and kissed him. His hands found the small of your waist and you melted into each other with a familiar rhythm. Light was striking your eyes as you pulled back, and you nodded.

A life. A nice one. Yes. A thousand times yes.

“A ring and all, hm?” you replied quietly, still wrapped up in him. “Yes. That’s my answer this time.”

He kissed your cheek, and you could feel his lips curve into a smile. “Okay. Okay, good. I love you.”

You leaned into him and he wrapped an arm around you from the side. “I love you, too.”

Again, you stared at the picture frames still hung on the wall. A full family– parents, kids, grandparents, all commemorated permanently in this house. You could have something like this, too. Not everything had come to an end when the world had fallen apart. People persisted. Love, connection, and happiness. It was still here, alive and humming in all of the places you had been.

You realized now, in Joel’s arms, that you had to start from scratch. Build up the beautiful life that was already budding before you. This was something you would fight for.

Fresh white paint slopped messily onto chipped brown walls, Joel in the corner of your eye with paint splattered on his own worn t-shirt.

You heard the sound of his footsteps padded by the sheets on the floor approaching you, even over the music that was flowing from the crank record player in the corner of the room. An old Frank Sinatra: Songs For Swiningin’ Lovers! record was spinning and skipping, songs from forever ago that made your heart feel a little heavier.

He grinned at you as he grabbed your waist, taking the paintbrush you held in your hand and holding it up out of your reach.

“Hey,” you warned when you broke the kiss, “I’m picking up your slack over here.”

He laughed and swiped his thumb over your cheek. “I see that. Got paint all over your pretty face.”

As you were about to protest, he kissed you again and his hands trailed down to your hips and ass. He tasted like cool silver and sparks of electricity. His beard scratched your face as he started to back you up to the wall. The paintbrush clattered to the floor.

The two of you had been systematically moving furniture and covering whatever else you could as you started the process of freshening up his and Ellie’s place. Your place, too. You’d all but cleared your own house out, and you felt your lives officially combining. The whole process of knowing Joel had been like passing right through him. Knowing him deeply– the good, the bad, and the ugly– until you could stand on the other side and look him in the eye and say that you loved all of it.

“You up for a break?” He offered with his mouth ghosting your collar.

“Painting’s gonna take forever if you keep this up,” you pointed out.

“Not my fault that y’look so damn good in overalls.”

You laughed, and he laughed, and he slung you over his shoulder before you could get another word in to carry you upstairs.

You shed your clothes like a second skin onto the floor, lying bare for each other in the sunlit bedroom you shared. Joel fucked you differently now. There was no desperation, no quickness, no fear that you were going to disappear beneath him. He fucked you sickeningly slow, torturously, like he had realized that it would last a lifetime. A lifetime of feeling you.

His tongue met all of your weak spots while his fingers breached your throbbing entrance. He pumped long, gratuitous beats with his ring and middle finger and you shook as the ridges and years of wear on his hands hit every pressure point that made you feel good.

Compliments and praise rolled off his tongue and reverberated into your body. Sweet girl. Pretty little thing. Feels good, huh? Beautiful. Tell me you feel good, baby. Just like that. Mine. Mine.

It felt like he could make you come with his voice alone.

He liked playing with you, though. Knew intimately how weak he made you. Still, you felt like you could give your most vulnerable self over to him and he would protect it with his life.

“Joel, Joel– so close–”

He paused his work, meeting your eyes between your parted thighs. “Not yet, darlin’, I’m gonna feel you come. Wanna feel it.”

Tilting your hips up to meet his, he hooked your legs on his shoulders and thrusted methodically inside of you. He stopped every once in a while to tease your clit, still crying for attention, with the wet head of his cock. You moved your hand down to touch yourself, rubbing fast circles against the spot, but he grabbed your hand away and insisted on stimulating you himself.

He treated you too well. Didn’t want you lifting a finger while he was taking care of you. With his free hand he felt you up all over, raising the hairs on your body and making you shiver. He loved watching what he did to you. Loved when you made him feel drunk and desperate.

The one thing you could give was grabbing his arm as you came, letting him feel your walls convulse and shudder around his cock. That was usually his trigger– he couldn’t stand it much longer as he watched you whine and moan around his name, repeating it over and over like a fiery prayer.

Oh, Joel. Joel. Joel. Joel.

Sweating and panting in the small room, already hot from the harsh summer, he laid there quietly with you. You could hear You Make Me Feel So Young still warbling from the record player as you ran your hand up and down his side.

Dark brown lashes met his skin as his eyes slipped shut. You couldn’t tell if he was getting old fast or just getting more comfortable with you, because it seemed like he was falling asleep next to you every chance he got.

You were glad. Setting all of your happiness and contentment being with him, you were glad that you made him feel safe– to watch those walls that he’d built up so high and impenetrable to slowly drop since you’d met him.

You propped yourself up to lean over and kiss the bridge of his nose. “Was this your plan all along? Tire both of us out so you had an excuse to stop painting for the day?”

He cracked an eye open, a smile spreading on his face. “M’not tired. You paint all you want, baby, I could watch you all day.”

“Mhm, making me do all the work, as per usual.” You shut your eyes and dropped your head against his chest.

“You’re too young to complain. I’m too old.”

“Not too old to fuck me like that, though?”

He laughed in a way that told you he was also rolling his eyes. “Never too old for that.”

“Touché, Miller.”

Your breathing started to even out and your skin felt temperate from the sun breaking through the curtains. Joel’s arms were firmly tucked around you and it almost felt like an instinct. He protected you, even if you didn’t want him to. Took care of you when he didn’t have to. Loved you just because he could.

You let him. You could live a million more days like this.

You painted more walls, filled old cracks, broke a pipe or two in the process. Joel was always there to fix things. It was messy and far from a perfect renovation, but it was home and that was enough.

Your personal passion project, however, was fixing up the backyard. With the lawn mowed and overgrown weeds under control, you were determined to start a garden. You picked a six by three patch of land towards the back, adjacent to the huge bur oak that provided a nice radius of shade for half the day until the sun shifted.

Joel had built the wooden perimeter for you and you had nurtured the rest. All it took was a morning of ripping up grass and a few seed packets from the town’s garden, and your plants were already starting to breach the soil and bloom. On a particularly warm afternoon, watering can in hand, you were worried that the zucchini was going to overtake the whole thing.

From the corner of your eye you saw Ellie slide out of the back door and stomp over to the shade of the oak tree, promptly laying down on the cool grass with a groan. Her hair, usually tied back in a practical ponytail, was sprawled out on the ground beneath her head.

Wordlessly, you dropped the watering can and sank down a few feet away, facing her.

“What’s up with you, kid?”

She huffed again, covering her eyes with her forearms. “My hair’s too fucking long,” she said at last. “Making everything hot. I wish I was bald.”

You laughed. “I’ll shave it off, if you want.”

She lifted her arm slightly to look over at you. “It’d look sick, right?”

“Yeah. Super metal,” you agreed. “You’d still be pretty bald by wintertime, though.”

She only groaned at that revelation.

“Do you know how to braid?” You asked, lying down on your back. The tree was rustling in the wind and the gaps in the leaves allowed thin beams of light through.

“Like, a regular braid? Kinda… falls out, though. Then I have to care about it.”

“French braids, then? The kind that goes up your whole head?”

“It’d look stupid,” she concluded. “I’m not seven.”

“No, c’mon. It’ll stay in for a few days, too. If it’s out of your face, you won’t even have to think about it.”

She sat up this time, running her fingers back and forth through the grass. “I don’t know how.”

“I’ll show you. Go get a brush and some hair ties.”

With simply surviving being Ellie’s number one priority for so long, you doubted she had ever put much mental energy into caring about how she looked. A hairstyle and clothes were surely an afterthought when living to see the next day had been so uncertain. But she was a teenage girl who had been at a comfortable distance from death for a while now, and she deserved to feel good about herself. Pretty, even.

So the two of you sat, her sat criss-crossed in front of you as you got to work on parting her hair into two and weaving tight plaits into each side. You tried to be as precise and methodical as possible without pulling too hard or making her sit there for too long. Her hair was long, thick and slightly wavy in the humidity.

You put both hands on her shoulders when you were done, admiring your work. “Better? Turn, let me see the front.”

She did as she was told, smoothing her hands over the braids that sat on her shoulders. “Yeah, this is better.”

“You look beautiful.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fuck off.”

“I’m telling you the truth.” You tilted your head and smiled at her. “If you like it, I’ll show you how to do it on yourself.”

She shrugged as she stood up, taking the brush and comb from your hands. “Dunno. Ponytails are like, a billion times easier.”

“If you say so.” You caught her wrist before she could turn to walk away. “Offer still stands. I’m always here for… girl stuff. I know a lot more about some things than Joel. Okay?”

“Yeah, girl stuff. Hair and periods and shit. Got it. Thanks.” She waved you off dismissively.

“I’m serious. Just know that,” you called after her.

“I heard you!” She yelled back, already halfway across the lawn.

Joel came home later than expected that night, long after the two of you had eaten dinner. He was half expecting you and Ellie to be in bed by then, so it came as a surprise when he shut the front door and heard back and forth bickering mixed with tearful laughter pouring out of Ellie’s bedroom.

Quietly, he made his way upstairs, lingering by her door that was slightly ajar. Warm, pink light seeped out of the space along with the familiar sound of her giggle.

With a fistful of your hair in her hand, trying and failing at her attempt to create a presentable french braid, you were winded from laughter.

“For how awful this looks, Ellie, I don’t know how you’re managing to scalp me.”

“I’m doing it like you showed me! Grab a chunk from here, put it together, put it over the middle. Chunk, together, middle. Chunk–”

She yanked on a thick strand of hair. “Jesus, ow.”

“Shut up, it looks great.”

Holding up a mirror to your hair, you shook your head.“It looks like I got in a fight with a rabid animal and lost.”

Ellie laughed again, her grip going weak as she flopped backwards onto her bed. Shaking out the rest of your hair, Joel watched you lay down next to her, trying to catch your breath as you wiped tears from your eyes. You looked at each other in the dim pink light, twin grins on your faces.

“Do you regret your offer now?” Ellie asked.

You shook your head. “No, not really.”

Joel pressed himself up against the wall in the hallway, smiling to himself. Things were so bad for so long. When things are bad enough for long enough, you think it’ll stay that way forever. You think it’ll never be good again. You think you’ve changed for the worse.

Joel often discounted himself, thinking that all that bad had done something irreversible to him– an insidious, evergreen thing that he wouldn’t be able to tear out of himself.

But you– Ellie– his girls, you washed that away in him every new day with you. Soothed burns from a lifetime ago, siphoned out poison that felt like it had eroded him entirely. Things could still be good. He could be good for the two of you, at least.

With time, everything heals. He was sure of it.

The only thing missing from your new home was a piano.

It was the last thing to move, and it took you, Joel, Tommy, and a few passersbys who were tired of watching the three of you struggle to carry it just a few houses down the street.

You were heartbroken when the move had thrown it badly out of tune. You could play, but you were hardly a professional, and you were at a loss as to how one was supposed to tune an 88-key piano.

Joel watched you sit in front of it, hands steepled in front of your face after you had attempted to transpose a few songs you knew into something that sounded mildly similar, but it was no use.

He put a hand on your back as you stabbed the keyboard in a few more places, fingers moving fluidly as you played different scales. The sound was twingy and grating.

“It’s alright, hon. We’ll fix it,” he murmured.

“It was already old to begin with. I should’ve known. You’d have to take the whole face off, tune each one… and with what, a wrench? I don’t even know what it’s supposed to sound like.”

Joel was quiet for a while, inspecting the front panel of the instrument as you continued to play out of tune melodies. “I’m pretty handy, ain’t I? It’s not rocket science. You know what it’s supposed to sound like, c’mon now. You know the thing like the back of your hand.”

When you didn’t respond, Joel left the room. You dropped your forehead onto the keyboard, cringing when it made a loud, angry sound. Maybe this was a sign. You should never have disturbed it. You had this one perfect thing, this piano that had fallen right into your lap when you had moved to Jackson. It had changed everything. It made you feel human again. It felt like a sign from the universe, one that reaffirmed the creeping fear that you could only have so many good things and that you certainly never deserved them all.

Joel pulled you from your stupor when he sat down on the bench next to you. He had a screwdriver in hand, silently putting himself to work on revealing the hammers and the pin block. You didn’t lift your head from your hands until he started tapping on middle C, then crudely turning the tuning pin with a striking wrench until the sound was clear and in tune.

“Stop, stop, don’t touch it– that's it,” you said with your hand on his wrist.

He nodded, and you weren’t even sure he recognized the wave of relief that washed over your expression. He just went onto the next, D, until you signaled for him to stop when you heard the correct sound.

Joel sat with you for hours as the two of you worked on it. You took over after a while, making him play different chords on his guitar to ensure the sounds were matching up on the black and white keys together. You were almost certainly driving the neighbors insane, hitting the same notes over and over again until muscle memory kicked in and it sounded like it was right.

It was an amateur's job, undoubtedly. Any trained musician would probably be horrified by your heavy handedness, your unreliable ear for the notes, Joel’s corroboration on the guitar– it wasn’t perfect. To you, though, it was. By the time you had adjusted every tuning pin, it sounded better than it ever had before.

Tired and driven a little crazy from the incessant noise, you and Joel sank down into the couch. The main panel still needed to be reattached, the floor cleaned from loose sheet music and tools, but it didn’t matter. He wrapped his left arm around you like he always did, placing a gentle kiss onto your forehead.

“Told you,” he chided.

“Thank you. I love you.”

You dropped your head into the warm crook of his neck, and he didn’t say anything back. He didn’t have to. He’d been telling you he loved you for the past three hours, in his own secret language that enveloped you and hummed quietly in the air. I’d do anything for you, it said, whether it be peeling your orange or fixing your old piano or falling on his own sword. For you, I would. I would I would I would.

“Don’t have to thank me, m’just glad you’re happy.”

You didn’t have much left to repay him with. You don’t think you’d ever be out of debt with him, for giving you everything. You would have to make it up to him.

With your piano renewed and that nagging empty feeling confidently shut out of your head, you and Ellie practiced together like mad. She was insistent on rehearsing the songs she had picked for her recital until they were entirely flawless.

You forced her to set a date to show Joel out of fear that she’d never come to a point where she felt satisfied with herself. He went out with Tommy that day, promising he’d bring something back for the two of you, which signaled that he would be gone for the afternoon and into the evening.

You braided Ellie’s hair, fixed up your new home together, and taught her how to bow at the end of her very informal performance. She was refreshingly giddy and excited, telling you over and over again how surprised Joel would be.

“He already knows you’re good, hon,” you reminded her.

“Yeah, but I’m like super fucking good now. Bet he doesn’t know what my dainty little lady fingers can do.”

You laughed, pulled her in close to your side, and agreed before she asked to practice one more time before he got home.

When you heard him at the door that remained permanently unlocked, you were in the middle of dragging two chairs from the kitchen into the living room to position by the piano. You greeted him, and he kissed you long and slow, grabbing you from behind.

“You look nice. Really pretty, darlin’. Why’re all the lights off? Am I forgetting somethin’?” He said, a hint of concern in his low voice.

You shook your head and pulled yourself away from him. “No. We have a surprise for you,” you revealed. “Go up and change into something nice. We’ll be down here.”

You could see the gears turning in Joel’s mind, leafing through his recollection of birthdays and anniversaries and any other thing he could think of that would warrant a surprise.

“Everything’s fine, Joel. Better than fine. Good. It’s just us.”

He put his hands up in surrender before disappearing up the stairs.

You sat next to Ellie on the piano bench, wrapping both of her hands up in yours. A single, loose french braid ran down her head and spilled over onto her shoulder. A few stubborn flyaways curled up around her temple and framed her face.

“You look perfect. You’ll be great. It’s Joel, anyway, you could play Baa Baa Black Sheep and he’d give you a standing ovation.” You smiled.

She nodded, smiling alongside you. “Yeah, I know.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, so you pulled her into a long hug before letting them fall. The universe worked in funny ways, you thought. You had Ellie to thank for bringing Joel here, and Maria for forcing her into trivial music lessons after music had become little more than obsolete after the world had come to a screeching halt.

But mostly, you wanted to thank her for showing her so much good. For reminding you that some things, the most important things, never really did fade.

“Thank you. For everything.”

“Yeah… you’re welcome. For whatever I did.”

Joel came down the stairs slowly, evident that he was tired and his right side was bothering him again. He had a hand on the healed scar on his abdomen when he entered the living room, dressed in fresh jeans and a green button down.

“Surprise!” Ellie exclaimed. “You have to listen to my ‘recital.’ Just sit back and enjoy, old man.” She grinned.

“Oh man, this is a surprise. Y’all should’ve told me about this,” he said, making his way over to one of the kitchen chairs that were placed a few feet away from the piano. “I’m all ears. Play away, kiddo.”

You took your seat next to Joel, and he grabbed your hand to squeeze it. When you looked over to him as Ellie played the preamble to Uptown Girl, his eyes were a little shiny.

She played like a true pianist. You’d heard her set a million times, but the smile on Joel’s face made something heavy and light all at the same time catch in your chest. You couldn’t quite describe the feeling– pride? Contentment? Honest, pure happiness? Whatever it was, it felt good. You felt whole.

Joel couldn’t help but laugh at the 180 switch to the Jurassic Park Theme after giving her raucous applause for the first song. She giggled her way through it, too, and so did you. If she missed a beat or her finger slipped on a key, she just kept playing, nodding along with the fractured beat.

He was leaning back in his seat when she hit the first few notes of Ain’t Too Proud To Beg, but soon perked up.

“This is a good one, El. A good one, damn. The Stones covered this one, right?”

“Shut up, I’m concentrating,” she quipped.

I know you wanna leave me

But I refuse to let you go

If I have to beg and plead for your sympathy

I don’t mind, ‘cause you mean that much to me

You smiled, seizing your opportunity to grab him by the hand and pull him up and out of his seat. He humored you, taking you by the waist to sway around the living room with you.

Now I heard a cryin’ man is half a man

With no sense of pride

But if I have to cry to keep you

I don’t mind weepin’

If it’ll keep you by my side

Your laughter melted and swam in the air along with the music, nearly toppling each other over when he lifted your arm to spin you around. You both sang along with the tune of the music as Ellie played, and she glanced over her shoulder at the two of you with a smile spread wide across her face.

Ain’t too proud to beg, sweet darlin’

Please don’t leave me girl

Ain’t too proud to plead, baby, baby

Please don’t leave me girl

You pressed your back up against his frontside and he wrapped both arms around you from behind while he swayed along with you. You looked up over your shoulder, and he met you with a sweet kiss.

Both of you applauded wildly when Ellie finished, and she stood up to give a very haphazard bow, as you’d taught her.

“Sit back down, I wanna hear that one again. Man, you’re too good,” Joel said, coming over to her to ruffle the top of her head. “You killed it, darlin’. Keep goin’.”

Going for the encore, you and Joel rocked to the music in each other’s arms. You faced him this time, your arms resting on his shoulders while his found your waist again.

“You did good, baby. This is… I’m so glad you’re here,” he whispered.

“She’s here because of you. We both are, if you think about it.”

He nodded, his dark eyes glistening in the light again. “Yeah… don’t know what I did to deserve it.”

You kissed his lips, drawn out and lovingly, smiling against them. “You deserve the world, Joel Miller.”

He laughed quietly as he shook his head, fully pulling you into his arms. He dropped his head onto your shoulder and clung to the fabric of your shirt. “I love you. Just… so much.”

At last, you thought– maybe there was only one universe. Only one life. One chance to cry and sing, to love and be loved, to feel the ground beneath your feet and say I am here for a reason. I can be good. Get better. A hundred thousand days of sun, sleepless nights below heavenly stars, a few more cold winters to get through. I am here with him, in this universe, where we’ve both changed. Been able to know each other.

You had no clue if you’d get only one or if you’d get ten thousand more. If all of your lives would have Joel in them, finding him as your neighbor or your best friend or as a stranger across an ocean. You hoped you’d always find him, in one way or another.

But if all you got was this one– just this one hard, beautiful life, one chance to hear the music–

It would be enough for you.

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ocean-armin · 1 year

Text

HOW TO DISAPPEAR

Armin Arlert x Reader

Synopsis: reader suffers with night terrors after the war; her husband Armin comforts her. heavily inspired by some Lana lyrics <3

Tags: armin arlert x fem!reader, post final season/ch 139, mentions of nightmares/death, cottagecore armin x reader, mentions of parenting, shameless fluff lmfao

enjoy <3

Hot breath on your neck. It always starts as a whisper. An urgent whisper of your name in your ear. A single voice crescendoes to a symphony of voices, more people standing around you.

You know it’s your friends calling your name; you’d recognize their voices anywhere. Your colleagues. Your fellow soldiers. You’ve grown up with these voices clamoring around you: friendly laughs and yells in between training, on horseback, and after missions to check who’s accounted for. Their voices are different this time. Screams pierce your eardrums like a needle through a balloon.

You can never see them. But what you can see is thick black smoke, the remaining rubble of buildings, and the blood seeping through the grain of the scattered wood; all that remains of everyone. The pounding in your head and the insurmountable grief leaves you heaving, and you collapse down onto your knees. As soon as your breath cuts through, you regain focus and see your bloody hands steady on the ground in front of you. You’ll never see them again.

You snap awake. You’d think the same nightmare for 5 years would get a little easier, but apparently not. The things a war does to a kid, am I right? You feel fucking ridiculous.

You routinely hold out your hands in front of you and check them for blood like you do so many nights, even though it’s never there. At this point it’s your muscle memory kicking in. You’re relieved to see your hands dry, with nothing but a golden wedding band placed on your ring finger.

You sit upright in bed, assessing your surroundings. Despite the unease, you’re perfectly safe in your cottage bedroom. The cool summer breeze brushes through lace curtains, and the moon illuminates your room through the window. Your quilts, your packed to the brim bookshelf, your rocking chair, and most importantly; your husband. Your husband, blissfully sleeping on the pillow next to you.

Golden hair falling over his eyes, shining in the moonlight that escapes the curtains. You watch his back rise and fall with every breath, and the knot in your stomach breaks. Tears pool in your eyes. Armin alive, yet alone sleeping safe next to you, is the biggest relief you could ask for. You’re still astonished how you were both lucky enough to make it out together, and to be able to love each other so ardently.

Laying back down, you squeeze your eyes shut to force yourself back to sleep. Fuck this, why are you still crying? Your sobbing continues until you’re met with a gentle hand on your cheek.

“Hey,” Armin whispers, pressing the back of his hand to your cheek. “Same one?”

You nod, unable to get out a word, but you don’t need to say anything at all. You never really do. Armin wraps his arms around you, pressing you to his chest snugly as if it were routine. You inhale sharply, this time smelling his shampoo. The dam breaks again.

“I know…I know,” he coos, gentle hands stroking your back, fingers twisting your hair. “We’re gonna be okay.”

***

After clutching onto Armin for what feels like eternity, you’re able to breathe steady again. Before you can think about sleeping, you hear routine stirring from down the hall. Clearing your throat and sitting up, firm hands are placed on your shoulders.

“I’ll bring her in here, just take it easy. Be right back.” Armin smiles a little, leaning down to press a quick kiss on your forehead. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he gets out of bed hurriedly and shuffles down the hallway.

Before you know it, he reappears in the doorway with your daughter, carefully sitting himself down in the wooden rocking chair with her in his arms.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” You whisper, as you gain the strength to get out of bed and stride over to the pair in the rocking chair. Peaking over at your infant daughter in his arms, you gently tap at her tiny nose. The same button nose as her father’s.

Many parents claim that their kids are the ‘the best thing they’ve ever done’, but this was indisputable for you and Armin. You both have done unspeakable things in your past, you didn’t have any other option. But the war is long over, and your daughter wasn’t born to be a soldier. She was born to have the opportunity of a normal life. To have parents that love her and keep her safe. To be lulled back to sleep after her nightmares. To play outside. To soak up the world, to read as many books as she could ever ask for, to make friends, and not have to bury them. To have options.

“See? You’re alright sweetie.” Armin whispers, holding your daughter against his chest. You kneel down next to the rocking chair to smooth her hair and cheek with your fingers.

“No one’s going anywhere.” You say with a honeyed voice, your daughter’s fussing subsiding into soft breathing as she drifts back to sleep.

You and Armin lock eyes, and share a tired smile together.

“It’s getting light out,” he chuckles quietly, trying not to wake the finally sleeping baby, “what a night.”

You take his hand and place a soft kiss to his knuckles, letting your lips linger before resting your head in his lap.

“I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

***

I watch the skies getting light as I write, as I

Think about those years

As I whisper in your ear

I'm always going to be right here

No one's going anywhere

#armin arlert #armin arlert x reader #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #armin x reader #armin fluff #cottagecore #Spotify #armin arlert aesthetic #armin arlert x fem!reader

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dilfspitdrinker · 11 months

Text

Let The Light In | Joel Miller x reader

Description: You’ve been babysitting Joel Miller’s daughter all summer. No matter now much you try to deny it, you know you’re into him. But it’s just a little crush that you thought could never be reciprocated, until one fateful phone call. The shift between you two is irresistible, and you’re in for more than you ever anticipated. A/N: woohoo ch 4!!! I almost posted this from work I was so excited to get it out there. Once again thank you to everyone who's reading, literally come over here and gimme a kith ^3^ Masterlist

Chapter 4

You spent the rest of the day waiting for the call. Around 9:30 pm, you laid in bed, phone in hand, just staring at it. No matter how many possibilities you ran through, you truly had no idea what Joel was going to say. That can never happen again? Let’s just forget about it? Let’s hook up? Yeah right. There was no way he was interested in you like that. He was probably just into… casual making out? You pictured him doing the same with a random woman in a bar while you were at his house watching Sarah. The image didn’t quite fit. He didn’t seem like someone who would go for casual… but then again, it’s not like you knew him that well–

You jumped at the shrill ringing of your phone, fumbling and nearly dropping it on your face. You answered with an enthusiastic, “Hi!” grimacing as soon as it left your mouth. You sure sounded excited over a phone call that was likely going to end in disaster.

“Hey darlin’, how’re you doin’?” He sounded like he was in a good mood, as if there was absolutely nothing pressing to discuss.

“Pretty good, how about you?”

“I’m quite alright, thinkin’ about you.”

So what the fuck is that supposed to mean?

Against your better judgement, you went the flirty route, “Yeah? Been doing that a lot lately, or what?”

He chuckled, running a hand over his face. You didn’t even know how much of a hold you had on him. “Yeah, you do it to me darlin’.”

You were sure you had the biggest, dumbest smile on your face.

He asked if you’d eaten dinner, you told him about your favorite takeout spot. He talked about about a restaurant nearby with similar food, and you pressed the receiver closer to your ear. Even through the phone, his voice reverberated through your chest warmly. Warm and smooth like a good wine, you thought. With enough, you could get drunk on it.

“You mind looking after Sarah tomorrow evening? We’ve got a job that I think will run late.”

“Yeah, no problem!”

“Thank you darlin’, sorry for the short notice.”

While he talked about the job he and his crew would be working on, you stared absentmindedly at the friendship bracelet Sarah made you. The brightly colored strings created a sunset gradient. You used the same colors but a different pattern for hers.

You grew more anxious as you sensed the conversation winding down. You knew it was coming. He was surely letting you down easy with the small talk this whole time. In a matter of minutes you’d officially be too embarrassed to look him in the eye ever again. If you were lucky, he might just fire you.

“Alright darlin’, I don’t wanna keep you up too late. You have a good night now.”

You automatically returned the good night, because you didn’t know what the hell else you were supposed to say. Sure, you could've brought it up yourself, but-

As soon as he hung up, you rolled over and smashed your face into the pillow, groaning. You figured he’d want to pretend like it never happened, but not like that.

*. * · *. * · *. * · *. * · *. * · *. * · *. * · *. * · *. * · *. * · *. * · *. * · *. * · *. * · *. * ·

You tried not to think about Joel the next day, which was a nearly impossible feat. Your mind constantly slipped back to the feeling of him holding you, so insulated from the world in his arms.

It was a mellow evening with Sarah. You cooked your homemade macaroni and cheese and forced her to have a serving of broccoli. The first time you made this recipe for her, she instantly declared it was her favorite food. And she wouldn’t admit it, but she liked the broccoli too, only the way you made it.

She finished the bracelet she promised her dad she’d make for him. It had the same sunset colors as yours and her own, but with a more complicated looking pattern.

By the time Joel got home, Sarah was in bed and you were on the couch, homework splayed out over the coffee table. You tried your best to look concentrated.

He kicked off his boots, “Sarah good today?”

“As always.”

He made his way over to the fridge, and you watched as he cracked open a beer. “You want one?” he offered.

You bit your lip, “I kinda do, but I’m hoping to finish this paper tonight.”

“What’s it for?”

“Philosophy.”

“You’re gonna need one,” he popped open another bottle, then sauntered over and set it on the coffee table in front of you.

You chuckled, taking a long swig, enjoying the coolness of it. You weren’t much of a beer person, but by the taste of it, Joel didn’t buy the shitty stuff.

He sat next to you, the couch cushion dipping, practically urging you to lean into his side. You chose not to.

You didn’t mean to drink your beer as quickly as you did, it just happened since you didn’t quite know what to do with yourself. You could hardly concentrate on your paper with Joel next to you, and you didn’t know what to say, so you just kept busy by drinking. The warmth that bloomed in your belly was enough to ward off the anxiety jitters.

Joel wondered if you were a lightweight when he noticed how your cheeks glowed pink. You looked so pretty, you pulled a smile from him without even trying, without even knowing. Your eyes were trained on a book sitting open on the table, but it didn’t seem like you were reading. He could only wonder what was going on in your head. As for himself, he was a simple man: he’d been dying in the heat all day, and the only thing he wanted was a beer and his girl.

In the back of his mind, it worried him how possessive of you he suddenly was. But in the front of his mind, his full attention was on the way your lips were wrapped around the bottle, neck exposed as you finished off your drink.

“Thanks,” you said simply. You wouldn’t look at him.

“Course.” He studied your demeanor for a moment, then continued in hopes of getting you more conversational, “You know, somewhere in there I got a recipe book for cocktails and all the stuff for it. Haven’t used it in a long time, think I should break it out again?”

“I do like a tequila sunrise,” you bit your knuckle.

Noted. “You like margaritas?”

You hummed in affirmation. Still not even twitching in his direction.

Time to quit the telepathy attempts, staring at you wasn’t getting him anywhere. He grabbed your chin, making your doe eyes look right at him, “What else do you like?”

No way to avoid his gaze now. You answered, wondering if he was even still talking about drinks, “Don’t know. Haven’t tried much else, guess I don’t go out enough.”

His thumb rubbed along your jaw. “Don’t mean to interrogate ya, but,” he threw back the rest of his beer and quickly set it down, shifting toward you on the couch, “what’s got you all shy?”

You froze, and you could’ve sworn even your blood stopped flowing. You found your voice, but not the words to go with it, “I- I just, I don’t know, I thought-“ you let out an exasperated sigh, “Nevermind. You’re right, we should just pretend like it never happened.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Who said we were doin’ that?”

You stared at him, fighting to keep the words from spilling out and making a bigger mess, “I thought… since we didn’t talk about yesterday, you’d rather just forget about it.”

He was stunned that you’d even think that. He made you think that? Well… what else were you supposed to think? Your only experience was with idiot boys doing one thing and meaning another. Of course you’d be confused, he was screwing around kissing his kid’s babysitter and leaving with no explanation. Knowing he needed to right this immediately, he released your chin and took your face into his hands, “No, no, I’m sorry, I wasn’t clear with you. Forgettin’ about it is the last thing I want.”

You looked up at him, eyes full of sweetness and youth and too-good-for-him. He knew it was selfish to want you, to rob you of regular college relationships and get you tangled up with a single dad. But who was he, if not a selfish man at heart?

He leaned in and captured your lips.

You could hardly believe it. Had he wanted this – you – the whole time? Him kissing you in your apartment yesterday wasn’t just some weird way of consoling you? Now that you thought about it, it was almost laughable how much doubt you let seep into your mind, when it was really so simple. You two fucking kissed. And now you were kissing again, and it felt like you’d gotten a second chance at life. And yet your hands remained frozen in your lap, aching to touch him, but still afraid of taking it too far. Whatever that meant at this point.

He whispered against your lips, “There’s no need to be shy, baby.”

You readily took that as permission to let go of your worries. Your lips melded together again as you freed your hands to roam his chest and shoulders. Those broad shoulders that you wished would just engulf you already. You drew his bottom lip between your teeth, feeling how the corners of his mouth tugged upwards.

“There you go,” he encouraged.

You were obsessed with the way his lips slotted so perfectly against yours. With the size of his hands as they pulled you closer. The heat radiating off his body.

A few sheets of paper noisily fell from the coffee table, making him break the kiss. He set them back in their place. “Sorry darlin’, I’m distracting you from your work.”

“It’s not getting done tonight,” you crawled over him.

His hands found their place on your hips, eagerly squeezing. You hungrily took his tongue into your mouth, shamelessly delighted at the way it swirled. You were hovering over him, but he pushed your hips down until you were sat on his thigh. His heart quickened as you rested your weight on him. He had to remind himself to not press his fingers into your flesh too hard. But it was just hard enough to have you struggling to keep your composure.

He said breathlessly, “Let me take you out.”

You paused, thinking you hadn’t heard him correctly, “What?”

His confidence wavered, but he wouldn't back out now. “Let me take you out on a date.”

You pulled further away to get a good look at him, “You want to?”

“Of course I do,” his brows furrowed, “Why wouldn’t I?”

You shrugged. Truthfully, you thought even if this thing advanced, he’d treat you more as a side piece. Not in a disrespectful way, you just didn’t expect him to… date you. You were babysitting his kid, and way younger than him, and those were just the two biggest reasons. You thought he wouldn’t be interested in anything as time consuming and emotionally investing as dating, especially not dating you.

The sound of a door opening made you two practically jump away from each other. No one emerged from the hall, but there was another sound of a door opening and closing. Joel sighed quietly in relief, “She’s just going to the bathroom.”

“I’ll get out of here,” you stood and quickly gathered your things.

He grabbed your hand, “Hey, I’m serious. I’ll call you tomorrow. And shoot me a text when you get home.”

“I will,” you promised, and without giving yourself another second to hesitate, sealed it with a kiss. You almost wanted to laugh in disbelief. A goodnight kiss, like you were together or something.

It hit you on the drive home. No fucking way. You and Joel fucking Miller just made out on his couch like fucking teenagers, and he asked you out. What kind of date was this going to be? Classic dinner and a movie? Fancy wine and dine? Something more outside the box and spontaneous? It excited you to think about how little you still knew about him, and how much more you’d soon find out.

Chapter 5

Masterlist

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #tlou #the last of us #tlou hbo #tlou game #joel the last of us #joel tlou

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burntheedges-updates · 9 months

Text

over again, chapter 5: staying over

This is my updates-only blog! Follow me at @burntheedges Joel Miller x f!reader summary: you fell in love with Joel Miller in Austin, Texas, in 2001, but you thought you lost him and your whole family in 2003 when the world turned upside down. now it's 2024, and you find the surprise of your life waiting for you in Jackson, Wyoming. or, five times you and Joel fell deeper in love, on both sides of the apocalypse (and one time you did something about it) 18+ minors DNI chapter tags/warnings: fluff, flirting, banter, angst, implied heavy angst (sorry), kissing, pet names (darlin’, baby, honey, pretty girl), Joel calls reader a good girl, neck grabbing (no breath play), light manhandling, grinding, spit kink, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), p in v sex (no condom this time, he’s 56 and she’s 49, but use a condom, y’all), creampie, masturbation, praise kink, light anal play, face sitting, if I missed anything please let me know! a/n: Well, this is part 5 of the 5+1. I can’t believe it. Next week we have the +1, which is the epilogue. I’m sorry in advance for the first part. Check ao3 for notes to skip the smut. word count: 5.5k | series main post | series playlist | ao3 | ch 1 | ch 2 | ch 3 | ch 4

Chapter 5: Staying Over

Boston, September 26, 2003

Your phone rang at 6:30 AM, rudely interrupting a dream that involved Joel, no pants, and a very sturdy table.

“...h’llo?” you mumbled into the receiver.

“Morning, darlin’.”

“Joel?” You yawned. “Baby, it’s 5:30 in the morning in Austin. Why are you calling me?”

“Well, baby, you see, it’s my birthday, but my fiance is all the way across the country in Boston at some fancy conference. I thought maybe she might like to help me start my day right, put me in a good mood before our daughter wakes up and makes me eat one of her culinary science experiments.” You heard what sounded like sheets rustling on his end of the phone and you started to smile.

“Joel, she cooks the eggs that way because it’s how you taught her.”

He hummed and murmured your name. “Come on, baby.”

“You looking for a little phone sex, Miller? What are you wearing?”

He laughed, but he answered, “Nothing, pretty girl. What are you wearing?”

As he asked, you were already kicking off your pajamas. “What a coincidence! Nothing here, either.”

“Mmm wish I could see it.”

“Just one more day, baby, and then I’ll be home and you can keep me naked in your bed all night.”

“That’s our bed, darlin’. For the rest of our lives.”

You smiled, just like you did every time Joel reminded you that you’d be waking up next to each other every day from now on. He’d done this a lot since you’d moved in at the start of the summer, taking advantage of your free time after the school year ended. Though really you’d spent almost every night together since he proposed in December.

“Well, tell me what you’re doing, baby. Or what you want me to do. What do you want, birthday boy?”

“I want you to touch yourself. Tell me everything you’re doing and how it feels. Can you do that for me, pretty girl?” You hummed, and slipped your hand between your legs. “Of course you can. That’s my good girl.”

...

Jackson, Spring 2024

(the same night you went to the bar)

You feel like you’ve lived a thousand lives since you met Tommy and Joel outside your house earlier. First the dance, then the panic attack, then the kiss. The almost-more-than-a kiss. Outside. Where people could see you. Your face gets hot again at the thought of it.

Slumped by your door, you tell yourself to breathe and calm down. You put your palms over your eyes and tilt your head back against the door, taking some time to breathe deeply and slow your racing heart.

You’re afraid to let yourself think about it — you can feel the tears behind your eyes, ready to fall. You focus on your breath.

It sort of works, enough for you to get yourself together and stand, starting to move away from the door.

You’ve only made it a few steps away when there’s a knock, and your heart starts to race again. Your hands are shaking.

Before you even open it, you know who’s standing on the other side. You barely pull it open a few inches before you see his hand appear as he grabs the side of the door, and then his arm as he pushes it open, and then Joel himself is in front of you again, moving straight towards you. He doesn’t even step inside all the way before he’s kissing you, the hand on the door pushing it shut and the other grabbing you by the neck. You wrap your arms around him, opening for him and deepening the kiss immediately. He turns and pushes you against the door, from the inside this time, palm flat against your collar bone.

You gasp, chest heaving. Joel rests his forehead against yours. “I was standing in my empty house, frozen, and realized I had no idea what I was doing there, away from you.” He brushes his hands down your arms and around your waist, pulling you closer. “What the hell was I thinking? Can’t believe I kissed you like that ‘n walked away.”

You laugh, so, so relieved, feeling lighter than you have in years. “Me neither, baby.”

He turns his head, nosing along your ear and then down your neck, skimming his lips lightly across your shoulder. You shiver.

“You got plans tonight, pretty girl?” He says it playfully, knowing you’ll pick up on it, that you’ll remember it too. It makes you laugh again and tear up at the same time.

“Just s- some cowboy who wants t- to get in my pants.” You know your lines, but you can barely get them out past the emotions bubbling up inside of you. You can feel him smirk against your neck.

“Oh?” His left hand moves from your waist around to the front of your jeans, deftly undoing the button and starting to lower the zipper slowly. “And are you going to let him?”

“I dunno. You think he’s any good?” You’re smiling so wide it hurts.

At that, Joel moves his hand inside your open pants to cup your pussy firmly, holding you tight over your underwear. You’re on fire, blood rushing in your ears. “You know he is, baby.”

You have to ask, even when all you want is to let him fuck you right there, against the door. You push your hands through his hair. “Not taking it slow after all?”

He softens his grip on you and brings his lips to your ear, resting his forehead against the side of your head. Your eyes slip shut. “We’ve got a lot to work out, sure, but I was standing there alone and I just realized I don’t want to spend any more of my life away from you, not if I don’t have to. Not when you’re right here barely 50 feet away from me.” He presses a kiss to your jaw, just in front of your ear. “I don’t know how I got so lucky to find you twice in this fucked up life, but I ain’t turning it down.” He brings his right palm up to cup your face. “We’ve never let fear take over before and I don’t want to now. I don’t want to wait anymore. I want to do this together. I want you.”

You inhale sharply and feel a tear run down your cheek. He sees it and thumbs it away. “What about you, baby? What do you want?”

You open your eyes, meeting his gaze in the dim light of your hallway. Your hands are in his hair and his hand is still cupping your pussy, holding you gently. You know he can feel how wet you are, just from this. You curve your hips forwards and watch his eyes darken.

“Fuck slow. I never stopped wanting you, Joel. I want you to take me to my bed and make me forget the 20 years I spent without you in it. And I want you to do it again tomorrow, and the next day, and to keep doing it every night for the rest of our lives.”

His grip tightens on your pussy as he smiles at you, slow. You see a glimpse of that cocky cowboy who swept you off your feet in 2001 in the corners of his mouth and the tilt of his brow.

So fast it makes your head spin, he pulls his hand from your pants and goes to whisk you away towards the stairs with his arms around your waist. He pulls you close to lean on him, taking some of your weight. “Let’s get to it, then.”

“Joel Miller! Let me walk. We’re going to need those ancient back muscles, in a minute.” He laughs.

“Alright, alright.” He slides his hands to rest on your hips. “I know we’re old now, baby, but I bet I can still make you come at least three times tonight.” You laugh, even as you feel his effect on you running through your veins and pooling in your underwear.

“Big talk, cowboy. Don’t count on that everytime, not these days.”

He hums in your ear. “You know I’m good for it.”

You grab his hand and pull him up the stairs behind you and into your bedroom, turning and sitting on the bed. He’s on you before you can move, pulling your shoes off and your pants down your legs and tossing them somewhere across the room. You take the opportunity to strip off your shirt, moving your hands to his belt once you’re done.

He takes off his shirt and it makes you stop and stare, eyes roving over his strong chest and arms, somehow stronger than when you last saw him like this. You look up at him and realize you’re sitting frozen on the bed with your hands on his belt, and you smirk as you loosen it and then undo his jeans.

He inhales slowly and reaches forward to brush his thumb across your lips as you pull him from his underwear, shifting your gaze from his face to his hard cock.

You begin to lean forward, mouth opening, tongue darting out for a taste, when he catches you by the throat and your eyes dart back up to meet his gaze. He’s looking down at you with half-lidded eyes and a lazy smirk on his face.

“Now, pretty girl, did I say you could do that?”

You squirm, so aroused you can feel the mess you’re making. “Please, baby?” You meet his eyes and run your tongue across your bottom lip. “It’s been so long.”

“You know I love that pretty mouth. But I think we should make sure of something right quick.”

You tilt your head, questioning. Not sure what he means. He shoves your shoulder, pushing you to back up and lie on the bed before kicking off his jeans and underwear and crawling over you. He lowers himself so that his cock is brushing your stomach and whispers in your left ear, “Only good girls get to suck this cock, baby, you know that. Are you still my good girl?”

You breathe in so sharply it’s almost a sob, and clutch at him. “Yes, Joel,” you breathe. “Always.”

He sits up a bit and smiles at you, and you can see it all there in his expression. This man is the love of your life, and it’s still mutual. You still fit together like this perfectly. You close your eyes against the swell of emotion you feel at realizing how well you go together, even after all this time.

“I thought so. Why don’t you show me how good you can be, pretty girl, and touch yourself.” You immediately move to do as he says, and he leans to the side to watch. “Let me see you get wet for me, baby.”

“I’m already wet, Joel.” You feel him settle in next to you as he watches your hand move between your legs. He pushes your left leg up and to the side, opening you up for his view.

“I want you so wet you soak the bed, baby. I want you so wet it feels like silk when my cock slips inside that pussy.” You moan at his words, watching him watch your hand. He sits up to get a better look.

You open your legs wider and use your fingers to spread your folds with one hand while you start to tease yourself with the other. You move your fingers lightly from your hole to your clit, dancing around it as you watch his reaction. You know your body looks different now, but under his gaze you feel the same as you did every time he looked at you back then – beautiful, desirable. Loved. Like he looks at you and sees you.

You circle your clit, letting the feeling build just a bit before moving your fingers down to your entrance. You push your hips forward slightly, watching as he leans forward. You slip one finger inside and he licks his bottom lip, gaze intent.

“So pretty, baby. Such a pretty pussy, always so pretty for me.” He doesn’t look away from your fingers as he says it.

You slip a second finger inside you, starting to pump them in and out, but it’s not enough. Your fingers aren’t big enough, never have been, not after having his. You squirm a little, trying to go deeper. He sees your struggle and smirks. “You need help, pretty girl?”

You bite your lip, nodding. “Please, Joel. I need your fingers, baby, I missed them so much.”

“Yeah?” He smooths his hand up your leg, closer and closer to where you want him. “You need it that bad?”

“Yes!” You cry out, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Shhh, let me help you. I’ll give you everything you want, baby.” He pulls your hands from your pussy and pins them to the bed by your hips. He holds them here as he leans down, inches away from your open pussy, taking a good, long look. You squirm. “Joel–”

“Patience.” He nips at your thigh. “Let me look at you.” He does, and you watch him do it, helpless. “I missed this, so much. This right here.”

He leans down and slowly licks you, tongue flat and mouth wide open, lingering over your clit and meeting your eyes. “You taste so damn good, baby, thought I’d never get to taste this again.” You revel in the feeling of his beard scratching against your pussy as he licks you again, slow. You feel yourself getting wetter as you clutch the sheets in your fists.

He lifts one hand but eyes you, so you know he wants you to keep your hand where it is. He uses his fingers to spread open your folds, and looks down again, licking his lips. He looks up to meet your eyes again – you can feel yourself staring, mouth open, breathing hard but silent – and he smirks. “I don’t think you’re wet enough yet, baby.”

You know what’s coming before he does it, but the anticipation makes you squirm. He opens his mouth and lets you see him gather the spit on his tongue before he lets it slip off the tip, right onto your clit, exposed by his fingers holding you open. You throw your head back and moan. “That’s my girl.” With that, he leans back down, and puts his mouth to work right where you both want it. You buck your hips up and he pushes them back down with his right hand. “Easy, pretty girl. Let me get my taste of this perfect pussy.”

He takes both hands and throws your legs over his shoulders, returning his mouth to your clit and sucking lightly. You whine, and it spurs him on. “Fuck, Joel.” He reaches down with one hand to tease you at your entrance while the other reaches up around your leg to pinch your nipple as he takes your clit in your teeth. He looks up and catches your eye, keeping eye contact as his touch sets you aflame – twisting your nipple gently, sucking and tonguing your clit, and slowly sinking his finger inside you, all at once. You stop breathing for a moment, overwhelmed at the competing sensations.

Joel winks at you and then returns to his work. He thrusts one finger inside of you, curling it upwards at the end of every thrust. You’re astonished to feel your orgasm building, right then and there, so quick and so strong. You know he can tell – your breath speeds up and you clench your fists tight. Your legs start to shake and you clench down on his fingers, a second joining the first, fucking you perfectly.

Joel plays your entire body perfectly, even though he hasn’t touched it in 20 years. It’s masterful, like he never forgot a single detail, and it brings tears to your eyes. Fuck.

You’re so close, but you’re teetering right on the edge. He smooths his left hand down your torso, pressing down gently on your pelvis. He lifts his head up, fingers twisting inside of you, and says, “show me how good you are, pretty girl. Come on my face.”

And you do. He immediately returns his mouth to your clit, sucking on it, and it tips you over the edge. You haven’t had an orgasm like this in 20 years and it launches through your body like a rocket. It overwhelms every bit of you, body and mind, setting you on fire in its wake. You cry out and lose yourself in it.

You’re slow to come down but as you do you realize you’ve locked your thighs around Joel’s head.

He seems happy with his plight, though, as he continues licking at your hole, teasing his tongue up inside of you as he removes his fingers. Like a man dying of thirst, finally given water.

You open your legs and tug him away by the hair, overstimulated. “I missed the way you taste, baby. Even better than I remembered.” His face is glistening and his eyelids are heavy, dark eyes watching you. He clears his throat. “That was one. You ready for another?” He grins. You shake your head at him, and laugh, incredulous.

“Show me what you can do, cowboy.” You’re breathless, boneless.

He turns his head and kisses your thigh, leaving a trail of moisture from his face as he moves slowly up to your knee. Then he licks, tongue flat, all the way from your knee back to your hip, where he digs in a little with his tongue at the crease of your thigh. You let your legs fall apart at the sensation. “I want you to give me another one, baby. Turn over.” You think you know what he wants, and your heart starts to race even faster.

You sit up, a little unsteady, arms shaking, and turn over so you’re on all fours. He nips at your ass and you know it’s because he approves. You feel him shifting around as you hang your head between your shoulders. Then you feel his hands smooth up the back of your thighs and you realize he’s on his back, face right under your pussy.

“Sit down, baby. Put that pretty pussy right on my face.” You shiver. You know he means it. He taps your ass when you don’t move right away.

You lower your hips, sliding your knees apart on the bed and feeling them ache a little, sitting up at the same time. You look down and you can see him waiting for you, a wicked grin on his face. “That’s it, be a good girl and sit down right here for me.”

He reaches up and pulls your hips down and you do. Back Before, you used to worry you’d smother him like this, until one night he made you sit down, weight dropped fully onto him, and he moaned louder than you’d ever heard him. He wanted you like that, all over him, smothering him, taking over all of his senses. You were happy to oblige.

You sink onto his face and you feel his mouth open to meet you. His tongue licks at you and then sinks right inside, smooth and soft. “Yes, baby,” you sigh. He twists his tongue inside and then closes his lips around your hole, kissing you there like he would kiss your mouth. And then he sucks, lightly, making your entire body shiver in response.

As you start to rock your hips he encourages it, squeezing your hips and pulling you up and down on his face, thrusting his tongue in time with your hips. His nose starts to catch on your clit and your breath hitches at every thrust. You moan, loudly. You start to lose yourself in it, head flung back, thrusting harder than you’d let yourself if you could think straight, but he moans in response and scrapes his teeth lightly around your hole.

The noises he’s making are obscene.

Joel’s hands leave your hips and sneak around to your ass, grabbing both cheeks and squeezing. On the next rock of your hips he lets go with his left hand and lightly trails his fingers between your cheeks, touching the pad of one finger to your asshole. You whine and push your hips back to meet it. You can feel his grin at your response.

He uses his right hand to pull you towards his face while his left toys with your ass and his tongue continues to stoke the fire inside of you. You grab his right wrist with one hand and his hair with the other as you grind down on his face. He sucks at your hole and pulls down with his hands to hold you down.

You throw your head back again, lost in the moment. Your orgasm is close, creeping over you, sending tingles down your spine. You clench around his tongue. “Fuck, Joel, your mouth. I’m gonna come, baby,” you whisper, overcome.

You don’t know if he can hear you, but you know he can tell. He always could, and he always knew just how to push you over the edge. He pushes you back a little with his right hand, and then tugs you back down, thrusting his tongue inside of you and curling it upwards.

His mouth is open wide, so wide you feel it everywhere as he sucks at your hole and grinds his nose into your clit.The tip of middle finger just breaches your asshole.

Your orgasm slams into you and you cry out, tensing all over and closing his head between your thighs. You clench on his tongue and his finger, holding him inside you in both places as the fire rushes over you again. This one is stronger but it passes more quickly and you find yourself toppling forward as it leaves you. You catch yourself on one hand, and look down at Joel.

He’s fucking wrecked, face covered in your juices, and totally blissed out. He looks like he’s achieved a higher plane of existence, eyes closed, breathing heavy and licking his lips. You both just breathe for a moment, completely winded.

And then he opens his eyes.

His gaze immediately locks on yours, and he growls. It happens so fast you barely follow it, but suddenly he’s up again and flips you onto your back. “Never thought I’d get to have this again.” His voice is low and you feel it rumble deep through your chest. He pulls you down the bed by the hips, spreading your legs and wrapping them around his waist. “This perfect fucking pussy, fucking made for me.” His left hand comes up and wraps around your throat, just holding you, as his right reaches down to rest the tip of his cock at your entrance. You can feel it there, just barely pushing at you, notched in place.

You gasp, overwhelmed, and beg him, “please, Joel. I need you.”

He leans over you, right hand coming to rest by your head, forehead pressed to yours as he whispers your name. “I want to live right here, in bed, with you. I want to pass my days with my face buried in your pussy. I want you to sit on my cock until you can’t take it, until you cry, until you forget what it feels like not to be full of me. I want you right here with me every day until I die. Just like we promised.” With the last word, he sinks into you, steadily, filling you all the way up until his hips meet yours. You sob and clutch at his shoulders.

“I want you just like this. Beautiful and overwhelmed. Full of my cock. So wet you’re dripping. Needy and at my mercy.” He squeezes your neck gently, just the way you like. He leans down and captures your mouth, tangling your tongues together as he twists his hips a little, keeping himself fully inside of you. You taste yourself on his tongue.

“I want you, honey. What do you want?”

You reach up and grab his ass in both hands, squeezing.

“I want that too, baby, want to do that, be that for you.” You take a deep breath and look him straight in the eye.

“And right now I want you to fuck me, Joel Miller, and I want you to mean it.”

He grins wider than you’ve seen him, since you found him again. He looks younger and a bit wild. “That’s my good girl.” His words sink into you like a stone falling into a pool, sending ripples down your spine.

And then he does.

He pulls out, almost all the way, and then pounds into you. He finds a rhythm and keeps it up, resting his forehead on yours and sliding his left hand behind your neck. You breathe each other in as you lift your hips to his, chasing the same high. You can feel it, dancing ahead of you, as his cock fills you just right with every thrust. He drops his head to your shoulder and moves his right hand down to your clit. “One more, baby,” he murmurs in your right ear. “Give me one more. I need to feel your pussy squeeze me tight.” You close your eyes and fall into it, letting him sweep you away. His hips speed up as his fingers match his thrusts in rhythm on your clit and you cling to him, just trying to hold on with your arms and legs.

He’s pushing you higher and higher, just about there, and you squeeze your pussy tight right when he squeezes the back of your neck. He opens his mouth and bites down on your shoulder and your vision goes white. You clench around him, crying out his name, and his hips stutter as he follows you upwards and over. You hear him say your name, over and over again, as your orgasms slam into you both and then leave you loose and tingling in their wake.

You’re both breathing hard when he reaches down to ease his cock out of you before flopping down on his back at your side. He groans. You can’t move your legs, and you tell him so. He huffs a weak laugh in response.

Somehow Joel finds the strength to roll over and reach for his shirt, which he uses to clean you both up. You smile, knowing he’s going to be annoyed with himself for doing that in the morning. He flops back down and pulls you into him on his left, hitching your thigh over his leg and pulling you close with an arm around your waist. The position is at once so familiar, like an echo, and so longed for that it makes you dizzy.

“Not sure our backs ‘n knees are up for all that vigorous activity anymore, darlin’.” He’s breathless as he says it, and you can hear his heart racing under your ear on his chest.

You know he’s right - your pussy is throbbing a little and you know it won’t go that way every time, not these days. But you tease him anyway. “Speak for yourself, old man, I’m still young and limber.” He laughs. “Got seven years on you, anyway.”

He nuzzles into your hair, squeezing the wrist you’ve thrown across his chest with his right hand. “Still blew me away, baby, even if my back is killing me. Fucking made for me, I told you.”

You inhale deeply, and settle onto his chest. His scent is comforting and it settles something inside of you that hasn’t been settled in a long, long time. “Made for each other, more like. I missed you so goddamn much, Joel.”

“I missed you too, darlin’. Every fucking day. Even when I pretended I wasn’t thinking about it.” He takes a deep breath, pulling you closer. “I hope you weren’t alone for all of it. I – well, I –” You know what he’s getting at, so you interrupt before he can twist himself up into knots.

“I know about Tess, Joel. Tommy told me. I’m glad you had someone.”

“Course he did. Well, I’m glad you know.” He sighs.

“I do, but Joel, I had someone too. For a little while, anyway. That’s why he told me, I told him first.” You take a deep breath. “It was in Atlanta. We were as much as we could be for each other, which wasn’t enough probably. But we did ok. She was…” You close your eyes, remembering Michelle. He brushes his hand down your back, soothing you. “She was good, and kind, even in the apocalypse when most of us were hard. Including me.”

“I’m glad you had someone. I wish I was there, of course, but I wouldn’t want you to be alone, all that time.”

You nod against his chest, agreeing. “We’ll tell each other all about it, eventually.”

He goes quiet for a moment.

“I didn’t let myself do it often, but sometimes I tried to imagine we were wrong. That you were alive. And what it would have been like if that were true.”

You reach over and grab his hand, squeezing. He takes a deep breath and continues.

“What it would be like to just run into you on the street. I… well. I didn’t think about it often. Because I was pretty sure you would have hated the man I’d become.” You try to pick your head up to look at him but he brings his hand up to smooth over your hair, keeping you where you are. “I wasn’t… they were never happy thoughts. I couldn’t imagine a reunion where you saw what I’d become and didn’t turn right back around and leave me there. ‘N I would’a deserved it. So I tried not to think about it.”

“Joel, I-.” He interrupts, continuing like he’s afraid he’ll stop if he doesn’t.

“In some ways I’m glad I found you now. I wish I’d known earlier, of course I do. But I’m more… me, now. I was a ghost, in Boston. I said barely living, but I felt barely human.” He pulls you tighter against him. “You wouldn’t have deserved being around me like that. No one did. Ellie didn’t, that’s for sure. Somehow she stuck around me long enough for me to remember how to be human again anyway.”

You push yourself up and don’t let him hold you down. Looking at him, you see that his eyes are teary, and he’s frowning.

“Joel, I used to think about it too. And I worried the same thing - that I’d become something you wouldn’t want anymore. Someone hard, and mean, and unyielding. But neither of us were right, baby. I didn’t fall in love with only one part of you. I fell in love with all of you. And I think we both know how ruthless we might have become at times in the last 20 years, to survive.”

He closes his eyes and nods.

“It was never a question for us back then, how much you’d do to protect us. How far you’d go. And I didn’t exactly shy away from it myself.” He huffs a laugh like he agrees with you, eyes still closed. You reach out to cup his face.

“I know we didn’t get to say it back then, baby, but we would have said for better or for worse, and I would have meant it. That’s what I used to wonder about and try not to let myself want too much - to have you there for the worst of it. Not to have to go it alone.”

He finally opens his eyes again and he’s looking at you with not a little wonder. He brushes his fingers down your cheek.

“I forgot, for a long time, what it was like to be trusted like that. To be someone’s safe place. I couldn’t, or wouldn’t maybe, let myself with Tess, and, well. She deserved more than I could give her.” You can see the regret in his eyes, and it’s so familiar. You used to think the same thing about Michelle, wishing you could give her more of you, knowing there wasn’t more to give. Not back then. “I remembered it, with Ellie. It was hard as shit, don’t get me wrong.” You laugh a bit, and he smiles. “Thought caring like that would take me out for good. Feels like it sometimes, still. But I’m remembering how, with her. And now with you.” He tucks your head back down on his chest and pulls you closer, almost on top of him.

You’re both quiet for a moment.

“Joel?”

“Hmm?”

“This doesn’t feel real. It’s too… I’m too happy.”

“I know. I feel it too, baby.” He kisses you softly right at your hairline. “I feel it too.”

...

a/n: See you next week for the +1/epilogue! It's... not short. lol

ch 6/epilogue now posted!

Taglist:

@morgaussy @jay-zzle @bluetattoos @dins-riduur-anthe @huffle-punk (@poodlebae just realized I forgot to tag you!! Sorry!!)

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fic #over again fic #tlou fanfiction #my fic #x reader

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hiddenwritingsintheworld · 1 month

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Cruel Summer Ch. 5

Donations | Thoughts & Feelings | Cruel Summer Series | Chapter 4

(Thank you all so much for being patient as I worked through personal issues!! I'm trying to write and get new chapters out for you guys. I'm still dealing with personal issues but for now, I'll push through, thank you all so much for always sending kind supportive messages. Love you guys! Enjoy!

P.S. you can find clues about future chapters if you read through the tags ;) )

-Chapter 5-

You stared at him before giggling, “Funny Chris, you know….. about us…now that we’re…ya know…gonna be public and all that.” you smiled as he chuckled. “Baby…you know we could never be public…I can't ditch the perfect, good girl next door, to go out with an old co star…besides, we’d never work out publicly, we're better this way. Private, just you and me, locked away in a bedroom somewhere.” he leaned in to kiss you again, but you pulled back feeling bile rise in your throat. “You never planned on leaving her for me…did you?” you asked, staring at the bed. “Babygirl,” he walked around the bed to sit by you on your side of the bed.

He pulled your chin up kissing your lips before you pulled back, he only had a moment to see your eyes before you slapped him as hard as you could. “Get out. Get the fuck out!” you glared at him before you moved quickly off the other side of the bed. “Sweethear-” “FUCK YOU!” you screamed. “GET OUT!!” you grabbed his clothes throwing them at him, he ducked as his shoes flew at his head.

The door busted open, your security guards and Megan stood there. “Oh Y/N…” She said softly as Chris stood up after sliding his jeans on. “Y/N! Baby come on! Knock it off, let's talk about this!” he snapped back at you. You raced off into the bathroom, locking the door as the tears fell. You started the shower, a sob leaving your lips as you slid down to the floor crying.

A few weeks later

“And in other news mega worldwide Popstar Y/N, has deleted all posts from her social media. Sources say, She’s “Blacking out any and all communication on tour, and while she loves sharing her life with her fans, touring has taken a toll on her, she’ll return eventually, but for now. She’s got to focus on herself.” wow, so no more thank you posts to all her concert goers? That’s gonna feel like a slap to the face.” the news reporter stated as her co-star started in on you and your reputation. You sat by the window staring out over the city, thankful that no one could see you all the way up here. “Turn it off.” you grumbled out, “You know it's interesting, one former Avenger star announces his wedding date with pictures of his fiance’ the same time another former Avenger star blacks out her social media? I smell drama!” he chuckled as she gasped.

“I don’t need to hear how Lacey and Simon think I’m some big fuck up for not wanting to be on social media right now.” you said getting up and grabbing your phone. “I’m going down to the gym, maybe running will clear my head.” you said matter of factly before grabbing your headphones. “Maybe you shouldn’t go alone?” Megan asked as she stood up. Your phone had been blowing up from friends and family checking in on you, wondering why you’d gone radio silent.

You felt your phone go off as you exited your room and felt the corners of your mouth turn up for the first time in what felt like forever.

Hemsworthy: ‘This place is super boring without you here.’

Y/N: ‘Tell me about it. I wish you were here. Life fucking sucks right now.’

Hemsworthy: ‘Heard you went black out on socials….you doin okay?

Y/N: ‘Yep…got a lot going on & I don’t want to see anything online…just, want to focus back on friends and myself for a while…’

You sighed as you sent the message, heading into the gym where you began to walk on the treadmill. You thought back over all your time with Chris lately, before he left for South America. The movie nights eating ice cream, playing new songs for him, talking him through his depression when it came to the divorce. You felt tears in your eyes, how could you have been so fucking stupid.

Were you this desperate to fall in love and be with someone? You’d mistook your friendship with Chris, the things that friends did, as romantic interest and felt yourself developing feelings for him. He was just recently divorced…why would he even think about dating anyone; you needed serious help.

Hemsworthy: ‘You know if you keep running on the treadmill, you’re gonna burn holes in those tennis shoes missy. :P’

You glanced at the message before you did a double take; you didn’t remember telling him you were going to work out to clear your head. “If I have to stand back here any longer I’m gonna go insane.” his thick Australian accent startled you, causing you to whip around as you pulled your headphones off. “Oh my god!” you dashed over to him jumping into his arms as he laughed and hugged you tight. “I missed you popstar,” he mumbled in your ear as you buried your face into his hoodie, breathing in his scent. “I missed you too,” you whispered against his shoulder.

You jumped down smiling up at him, “Let’s go order some room service and catch up,” he chuckled and cleared his throat, “Uh…I wanted to see if you wanted to go to dinner tonight, with me?” he smiled softly. “Somewhere nice?” he asked as you grinned and nodded, “yeah! That sounds fun!” you said as you both walked to the Elevators. “I have this super cute outfit I’ve been wanting to wear anyways!” you grinned as he chuckled. “I’m sure you’re going to look as beautiful as you always do,” Chris smiled at you, his eyes twinkled softly as you talked about your upcoming show, which was a couple of nights away and Chris was thrilled he was going to attend it.

When he was touring with you, he would stay back at the hotel, usually cooking a meal for the two of you and picking out a couple of movies for you guys to watch and relax after your shows. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go to your shows, it was just easier to avoid the press. After the divorce, anytime they had the opportunity to print something about him or his ex wife, they jumped on it.

Once you guys made it back up to the hotel suite, you got ready for the evening, excited to have a nice dinner with someone who didn’t give a shit how famous you were, or what was happening in your life. You looked in the mirror and smiled at the black sequinned dress, which looked like a night sky, with clouds and a half moon on it. You wore strappy black heels and a fur jacket; and paired it with a silver flashy purse with a diamond studded necklace.

Chris grinned as he saw you come from your bedroom, “Whoa…you look…..incredible,” he held his hand out spinning you around as you giggled softly, “Thank you. My friend Kayleigh had this made for me, and I hadn't found the right occasion to wear it yet, but thought tonight was perfect.” you smiled as he smiled tenderly at you. “Well it’s perfect, come, I’ve made reservations for us.” he chuckled as you giggled excitedly. “Yay! It’s going to be so nice just…going to dinner and relaxing,” you said as you both headed to the car.

Pulling up to your favorite restaurant you sighed softly, the paparazzi were covering the street and you looked at Chris. “I’m sorry…I know you want to avoid them, I can go first…maybe see if they have a back entrance you can come through?” you said as he reached over and grabbed your hand, smiling softly. “I think I can manage a few photos with a beautiful girl before we go to dinner.”

The way he smiled at you, something felt different, you were starting to convince yourself that it was all in your head, but a small part of you wanted him to be into you. You knew you were developing feelings for him. “Y/N! Over here! Over here!” several voices shouted at you as you climbed out of the SUV and made your way around to the sidewalk. You smiled, waved at them, clearly not showing annoyance that you held toward them sometimes and even asked a few of them how they were doing this evening.

You stopped and posed for a couple of photos, when the other door opened and Chris got out smiling and waving at them for a moment before he put his hand on the small of your back as he walked with you to the door. The camera clicks intensified as he placed his hand on your back and you could hear them shouting more questions as you walked in together.

Tag List:

@notebooks-of-nonsense @fdl305 @bval-1 @calimoi @syntheticavenger @mrsjenniferwinchester @chaneajoyyy @mommad @ellen-reincarnated1967 @adriellej @coffeebooksandfandom @patzammit @posiemax @auriel187 @ladybug05 @stoneyggirl2 @fallenoutofrose @mrspeacem1nusone @teamfreewill-imagine @inlovewith3 @auvisanspeur @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @leaveitbythewave @sleutherclaw @sandlee44 @aaqua-tofana @nohumanswereharmed @msgrandma49 @traceyaudette @cevansbaby-dove

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bethanydelleman · 1 year

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Wentworth was LUCKY

Captain Wentworth was lucky. Yes, it seems like in hindsight that he was actually a good prospect for Anne, but Jane Austen also emphasizes how unlikely that was to happen. Wentworth had no post, poor connections and no money when he proposed. "Lucky" is repeated over and over:

He had been lucky in his profession; but spending freely, what had come freely, had realized nothing. But he was confident that he should soon be rich: full of life and ardour, he knew that he should soon have a ship, and soon be on a station that would lead to everything he wanted. He had always been lucky; he knew he should be so still. (Ch 4)

“Phoo! phoo!” cried the Admiral, “what stuff these young fellows talk! Never was a better sloop than the Asp in her day. For an old built sloop, you would not see her equal. Lucky fellow to get her! He knows there must have been twenty better men than himself applying for her at the same time. Lucky fellow to get anything so soon, with no more interest than his.”...

“I felt my luck, Admiral, I assure you;” replied Captain Wentworth, seriously. “I was as well satisfied with my appointment as you can desire. It was a great object with me at that time to be at sea; a very great object, I wanted to be doing something.”

..."Ah! she was a dear old Asp to me. She did all that I wanted. I knew she would. I knew that we should either go to the bottom together, or that she would be the making of me; and I never had two days of foul weather all the time I was at sea in her; and after taking privateers enough to be very entertaining, I had the good luck in my passage home the next autumn, to fall in with the very French frigate I wanted. I brought her into Plymouth; and here another instance of luck. We had not been six hours in the Sound, when a gale came on, which lasted four days and nights, and which would have done for poor old Asp in half the time; our touch with the Great Nation not having much improved our condition. Four-and-twenty hours later, and I should only have been a gallant Captain Wentworth, in a small paragraph at one corner of the newspapers; and being lost in only a sloop, nobody would have thought about me.”

..."I wished for him again the next summer, when I had still the same luck in the Mediterranean.” (Ch 8)

Wentworth's success was entirely a matter of chance.

#captain wentworth #anne elliot #persuasion #jane austen #lucky #I discovered that I can make words colours #fear my new power

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cssns · 9 months

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WOW!!!!!! Can you believe it? We're done and it's time for the CSSNS23 Roundup!!!

Before we get started, I need to recognize and thank my team of mods, @winterbaby89 @jrob64 @stahlop and @ultraluckycatnd, without whom this event wouldn't have happened this summer! Please join me in giving them all the long distance internet group hugs!!!!

And NOWWWWWWWW... Here we GOOOOO!!!!! Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

@hufflepuffinstorybrooke opened us up this year on July 1 with a wonderful soulmates OS called If You're Lucky, Love Leaves Scars, that I was privileged to make artwork for. The fic left me in tears and melting at the same time!

On July 3, @teamhook posted the first chapter of her fic The Last Witch Hunter, inspired by the Vin Diesel movie of the same name. Only one ch so far, but I'm absolutely captivated and eagerly awaiting more! Very intriguing artwork by herself.

@spartanguard dropped her Killian's evil twin MC on July 5, Sons of Love and Death, with artwork by herself. That artwork, of two incredibly handsome guys shouldn't be as chilling as it is, but IT IS... The fic is completely written and she's been updating weekly, so we're on ch9 of 13. Just sayin, but I'm about ready to use a certain dagger on a certain evil twin.

July 7 @goforlaunchcee posted Smoke and Mirrors, a HOOT of a ghost story, with such lovely artwork by @piinfeathers that perfectly captures CS in this fic. Three chapters are up so far, and I can't wait for more!!!

July 10, @killiansprincss posted her OS A Court of Vines and Shadow inspired by A Court of Thorns and Roses, with absolutely gorgeous artwork by @hollyethecurious. I was not familiar with the source material, so I was completely surprised and delighted with this fic!!!

@athenascarlet posted her merman Killian OS on July 13, The Merman with a wonderful visual on Tumblr 😏 Just a regular night between a sheriff and her merman pirate... Would love to see more of this, but it's staying a OS... for now, she says...

Also on July 13, @anmylica posted the first chapter of Fly With the Black Swan with amazing artwork by @zaharadessert. We have two chs of ten up so far, and I'm sitting on pins and needles waiting for more!!!!

On July 15, @whatevenisthisbloganymore posted the first chapter of Forest View Apartments, a ghost story that has the questions swirling through my mind and eagerly awaiting the next installment! Amazing artwork by @undercaffinatednightmare!

Speaking of @undercaffinatednightmare, real life has been very rude lately and has left her unable to post her two planned fics for this summer, but she has managed to make the artwork for them both that you can find here and here! I love her writing so much and I know whenever RL lets up, both these fics are going to be wonderful!!! *EDITED* The first of her fics, A Charming Curse, has now posted and it promises to be FUN!!!

July 19, @deckerstarblanche posted An Offer She Can't Refuse, with more lovely artwork by @undercaffinatednightmare. Emily only planned two chs for this very hot and sexy Omegaverse fic, but she took it in a very angsty direction in the final scene of ch2, and so has now promised that she'll come back and add one more ch to give us all the happy ending we deserve!

July 22, @zaharadessert posted a very hot demon Killian OS, Sacrificial Lamb that made bloodthirsty Krystal VERY happy. I was once again privileged to make artwork for the fic, with an assist by @motherkatereloyshipper who was responsible for the Emma edit I used.

July 23, @mie779 posted the first chapter of Finding Caldera: The Hidden World of Dragons, with just lovely artwork by @undercaffinatednightmare. The adventure of this fic is just wonderful! We're on ch9 and nearing the end!

On July 25, it was my turn to post for the event! Into the Light was inspired by the 1987 movie The Lost Boys, my very first introduction to vampires and it has never left me! Incredible artwork was created by @motherkatereloyshipper that still just leaves me staring at it slack jawed!

@hollyethecurious posted the first chapter of The Law of Surprise on July 28. Now complete in three parts, this beautiful BEAUTIFUL but also heartbreaking fic was inspired by the law of surprise from The Witcher. Breathtaking artwork was provided by @eastwesthomeisbest and can be found here, here, and here.

@xarandomdreamx posted her CS Practical Magic AU A Crystalline Knowledge of Love and Magic on July 30. Beautiful artwork by @hollyethecurious. Only one chapter so far and my heart is so broken for Emma and Elsa but also completely in love with the story!!!!

Rounding out July, @caught-in-the-filter posted original artwork featuring ghost Emma and vampire Killian that was absolutely CHILLING!!!!

@snowbellewells started Aug off on the 2nd with an incredible one shot, Deluge! Gorgeous artwork by @eastwesthomeisbest. I am so hopeful that Marta will eventually write more of this wonderfully intriguing fic!!!

Then, @eastwesthomeisbest was so inspired by Marta's fic, she made her own original art in the same vein as the art she made for the fic. Absolutely breathtaking!!!

On Aug 8, @booksteaandtoomuchtv posted the Prologue and ch1 of Witchy Woman. I have sooooo been waiting for this fic and so far, four chs in, it is hitting ALL my buttons! Artwork coming soon from @cocohook38.

On Aug 10, @cs-rylie posted The Journal, a seriously SCARY fic, only 3 chs in, inspired by Native American legend. Artwork by me, again with a much needed assist from @motherkatereloyshipper who was responsible for Milah and the journal itself.

@iamstartraveller776 posted her new fic, To Cleave Destiny on Aug 13. Featuring Demon Killian, just this Prologue has me on the edge of my seat!!! Artwork coming soon from @cocohook38.

@exhaustedpirate posted Parent for Hire on Aug 14. A Mandalorian inspired fic, Caro has melted my Captain Cobra heart so many times already, only four chs in. She also did moodboards to accompany each ch that you can find on each of the Tumblr ch posts x x x and I was also privileged to make a banner for the fic.

On Aug 16, @grimmswan posted the first chs of TWO fabulous fics!!! Dracula in Storybrooke comes from the woefully underutilized Land of Untold Stories arc, and Love Bites (But So Do I) is a supernatural adventure of vampire Emma and werewolf Killian. Artwork coming soon from @cocohook38.

On Aug 18, @snowbellewells posted her second fic of the event, Carolina Moon. A fic inspired by the Nora Roberts novel of the same name, my heart is already, only two chs in, broken for Emma and on the edge of my seat waiting for more! Beautiful artwork again done by @eastwesthomeisbest!

@jrob64 posted Saying Goodbye and Moving On on Aug 20, a DESPERATELY NEEDED and ABSOLUTELY PERFECT fix-it fic from the Underworld arc. I was again privileged to make artwork for it, and I'm just gonna have to accept that I almost can't make picsets anymore without the aid of @motherkatereloyshipper. For this one, she was again responsible for ghost Milah.

Aug 22, @padfootprongslet posted the Prologue for Like Our Love (Falling Down and Over Again). A Mr. and Mrs. Smith inspired fic, my heart was absolutely SHATTERED in this first ch and I can't wait for more! I was again privileged to make a picset for this with @motherkatereloyshipper coming in the clutch entwining the rings.

On Aug 24, @jonesfandomfanatic posted Stolen From Time. Now complete in three parts, this fic was absolutely BRILLIANT!!! @motherkatereloyshipper made a beautiful video to accompany it.

Our final fic by @wyntereyez will post in the next few days. She’s dealing with a hurricane at the moment, so she’s excused! Artwork by spartanguard. Can't wait! *EDITED* the fic and art are both now posted!!! I melted at Kait’s artwork, and I cackled and melted repeatedly reading the fic!!!! AND I am BEYOND EXCITED that Jamie has more to come in this universe, because I NEEEEEEEEEEEED it!!!!!

That's it everyone! Please enjoy all these FABULOUS fics and artworks and be sure to give the authors and artists all the love they deserve!!!

#cssns23 roundup #cssns23 #roundup #event roundup

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foxes-that-run · 6 months

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I don't wanna live forever

In the video Zayn arrives in a classic convertible, similar to Blank Space. She 'called out' Harry's cars in KoMH "'Cause all the boys and their expensive cars / With their Range Rovers and their Jaguars"

Then the hotel looks a lot like the Bowery Hotel where Harry stays in NY. Also, not to sound flippant... but it's Zayn and Taylor.

Harry and Taylor refer to Hallways in 10 songs and in the Perfect MV.

There are white roses throughout which Taylor pulls apart. Since Red, TS Roses have been about Harry, he has a rose tattoo. On their May anniversary in 2013, she posted roses saying she thought something would grow. She threw white roses in the Blank Space MV.

The people in the background are dressed like Harry and Taylor at the Victoria Secret show, which is also the subject of So it Goes.

They trash the hotel room, which mocks Perfect's MV. 1D's made a mess, Taylor and Zayn smash a mirror and a lamp.

i don't wanna live forever came together very quickly. wrote it with taylor and sam dew and produced it at home mostly on paper sounds. recorded taylor at my house. zayn sent parts from LA – we did it in a week basically. i've never had something come out that quick — jackantonoff (@jackantonoff) December 9, 2016

Zayn said that Jack approached him, then Zayn spoke to Taylor who already knew the track. I think given the importance of Jack and Taylor's relationship it's more likely Taylor choose Zayn and Jack was an intermediary than Jack raising it.

The collaboration itself is enough to confirm who it is about and caused a directioner-swiftie Twitter fandom storm. Many viewed it as a way for them both to mess with Harry, I think in part it is a response to Perfect. To suggest it's not about Harry for either is... a choice.

When was it written

Jack and Taylor were in the studio recording the bulk of Reputation in September 2016, Zayn was was in LA then, so maybe. But Fifty shades wrapped in April 2016 and it was likely wanted then.

Live performances

Taylor performed it 7 times in promotional events and then only twice in concert, interestingly both times was it the first week of June:

June 9, 2018, Manchester's Reputation Surprise Song. They were in a good (and maybe more) place then. Also Harry's hometown (he was in Florida)

June 3, 2023, Chicago Eras surprise song. It is sadder that above, the MH split announcement was 2 days later so maybe related. Haylor relations seemed warm before and after that.

Taylors split from CH and Harry left to shoot Dunkirk in June 2016. From I did something bad / High Infidelity / Ole we know CH was over earlier and they had spent some time together in February and April 2016. Playing this in June, when Harry left for Dunkirk and his IG going colour after the 2016 Met Gala has me side eyeing the end.

Lyrics

[Verse 1: ZAYN] Been sittin' eyes wide open Behind these four walls, hopin' you'd call It's just a cruel existence Like there's no point hopin' at all

Eyes wide open is a reference to Eyes wide Shut, the Stanley Kubrick erotic psychological drama. Like Fifty shades is features a masquerade party.

Harry and Taylor refer to waiting for calls in: AYHTDWS "Here you are now, calling me up, but I don't know what to say" August "Cancel plans just in case you'd call". Maroon "the rust that grew between telephones" FTDT "Even my phone misses your call, by the way"

Cruel existence is a theme of referring to their relationship as something they are trapped in. Cruel Summer "It's a cruel summer with you", MMIH "Cause once you go without it / Nothing else will do" and others. Taylor also had no hope in Treacherous "This hope is treacherous"

[Pre-Chorus: ZAYN] Baby, baby, I feel crazy Up all night, all night and every day Give me somethin', oh, but you say nothin' What is happening to me?

Taylors pre-chorus is the same but "I gave you somethin', but you gave me nothin'"

IWYW has a similar line "You always knew how to push my buttons / You give me everything and nothing" and Say "don't go" "I said, "I love you" (I said, "I love you") / You say nothin' back"

[Chorus: ZAYN] I don't wanna live forever 'Cause I know I'll be living in vain And I don't wanna fit wherever I just wanna keep calling your name Until you come back home x2

Taylor has referred to not wanting a life without Harry in Is it over now? "Oh, Lord, I think about / Jumping off of very tall somethings" Hoax " Stood on the cliffside / Screaming, "Give me a reason"" This is me trying "Pulled the car off the road to the lookout / Could've followed my fears all the way down"

In Where do broken hearts go "Now I'm searching every lonely place / Every corner calling out your name / Tryna find you but I just don't know / Where do broken hearts go?"

I don't want to fit wherever seems a response to Perfect "Or the arms that hold you any time you want them / But that don't mean that we can't live here in the moment / 'Cause I can be the one you love from time to time". HS had not been available because of the band, but wasn't in 2016 when Taylor wanted someone there for her but I expect was focused on his solo career and Dunkirk so not in the band or available. To me this line could be why it still didn't work out.

[Verse 2: Taylor Swift] I'm sittin' eyes wide open And I got one thing stuck in my mind Wonderin' if I dodged a bullet Or just lost the love of my life, oh

In second Verse Taylor has let it go, dodged a bullet/lost the love of her life is pretty straight forward - but it's an interesting link to Love of my Life on Harry's House which was still 6 years away. (yes I know his only 13th track on the album he released on their 10th anniversary is about England.... ....)

[Bridge: Taylor Swift, ZAYN, Both] I've been looking sad in all the nicest places Baby, baby, I feel crazy I see you around in all these empty faces Up all night, all night and every day I've been looking sad in all the nicest places Give me somethin', oh, but you say nothin' Now I'm in a cab, I tell 'em where your place is What is happening to me?

Looking sad in all the nicest places reminds me of:

This is me trying: "And it's hard to be at a party / When I feel like an open wound/ It's hard to be anywhere these days / When all I want is you"

Hit's different "Freedom felt like summer then on the coast / Now the sun burns my heart and the sand hurts my feelings"

Take the cab to his place is also similar to other times they go to each others house:

DBATC: "I Take the long way home"

Wish You Would. "It's 2 A.M. in your car / Windows down, you pass my street / The memories start" and "It's 2 A.M. in your car / Windows down, I pass my street / The memories start"

[Outro: Taylor Swift, ZAYN] I just wanna keep callin' your name Until you come back home Until you come back home

Finally, home is an important concept to them. Generally, they refer to each other as home. However in this song and Sweet Creature, "Wherever I go, you bring me home Sweet creature, sweet creature When I run out of road, you bring me home"

Sweet Creature and IDWLF were both written in 2016 they refer to HS coming home to her.

The lyric 'And I don't wanna fit wherever / I just wanna keep calling your name / Until you come back home". Is a hope that eventually they will be together, but accepting not yet. This idea is in several songs:

HYGTG "Broke your heart, I'll put it back together / I would wait for ever and ever (I want you for ever and ever)"

Suburban Legends " When you told me we'd get back together / And you kissed me in a way that's gonna screw me up forever"

Someday "Someday maybe when we're old and gray / We could be in love once more / Till then I won't give my love away / Darling, I'm forever only yours"

Something Great: "One day, I'll come into your world and get it right / I'll say we're better off together here tonight"

Happily "We were meant to be but a twist of fate / Made it so you had to walk away."

Satellite "Spinning out, waiting for ya to pull me in / I can see you're lonely down there"

#haylor #taylor swift #zayn malik #taylor non album tracks

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training4theapocalypse · 10 months

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Finders Keepers Ch 11. (Cormac McLaggen x fem!reader)

Rating: Explicit 18+ (no smut)

Word Count: 5.9k

Warnings: Violence, injury detail

Summary: The new friend you made at the Holyhead Harpies tryouts is more than meets the eye.

A/N: If there's one thing I'm always gonna do it's announce a chapter will be posted on Sunday and post Friday instead. Sorry this took a hot minute - it's been through several drafts. McLaggen briefly channels Marc Darcy from Bridget Jones's Diary 2 and it made me swoon.

Tag list: @pretendfan, @countlambula, @ratsys, @aweidlich, @navs-bhat, @stainedpomegranatelips, @chiaraanatra, @xxvelvetxxxx, @ohnoitsrosie, @dracosisteer, @daisydark, @intense-sneezing, (let me know if you want removed at any point btw!)

Chapter 11: Blood Traitor

“Right then, here’s to the Holyhead Harpies’ two newest signings,” says McLaggen, grinning and raising his pint glass.

You beam at him, still giddy with excitement and hardly able to take it all in. You’ve done it. You’ve actually done it. And what’s more, you think you’ve made a friend in your new teammate. The only prospect at tryouts who had managed to get a goal past you was the other newest Holyhead Harpy signing and chaser, Cerys Thicknesse, who had taken McLaggen up on his offer to join you at the wizarding pub a few miles outside of Surrey to celebrate.

“And you’re sure you don’t mind a third wheel while I wait on my friend?”

And with that, the three of you apparated to The Black Dragon which was, from the way McLaggen and Cerys told it, the only decent wizarding pub in the south outside of London. When you arrived, you found it was as packed as you’d expect any pub to be on a Saturday evening. And now as the three of you sit around a small, beer-soaked table, you feel like you can finally relax and enjoy your moment.

“Here, here!” Cerys cheers, clinking her glass against yours and McLaggen’s. She twists the ends of her long, black hair, looking at him. “I’m so sure I know you from somewhere. I recognise your face.”

“Probably from Hogwarts,” he suggests.

She laughs. “I’ll take that as a compliment. How old are you?”

“Eighteen,” he says.

“Both of you? You’re just babies! I would have been in my sixth year when you started. And no offense but I didn’t pay much attention to the ickle firsties.” She pauses, drinking thoughtfully.

“Does your family live around here?” You ask. “McLaggen, your house isn’t far from here, right?”

Cerys clicks her fingers in realisation.

“McLaggen! That’s it. Crickey, you’re the spitting image of your dad. He’s the Deputy Head of Magical Law Enforcement, right?”

“You know my dad?” McLaggen looks baffled.

“He works with my dad, Pius Thicknesse, you know him? I did a bit of work experience with them at the Ministry a few years ago.”

“Oh, right! Of course… yeah. How is he?” He asks tentatively.

She hesitates. “Always at work. Yours?”

McLaggen laughs a little awkwardly. “Yeah, he’s the same. Your dad is keeping him busy.”

Wow. So Cerys’s dad was McLaggen’s dad’s boss.

There’s a bit of a grim silence when neither of them says anything. You haven’t read a copy of the Daily Prophet all summer but you know from what McLaggen’s told you that everyone at the Ministry is under a lot of pressure in the wake of You-Know-Who’s return.

“God, it’s like half of Hogwarts is here,” you say, just to break the stony silence. There are a few faces from other houses and years that you sort of recognise from Hogwarts. You suppose it’s a small world when every witch and wizard in the country goes to the same school.

“Oh yeah, all the really old wizarding families live around here. Makes sense really, they all moved out to the country hundreds of years ago when the Muggles in London started multiplying.”

“Right, yeah…” You’re pretty sure that was a note of disdain in her voice. Normally, you’d question it but you’ve only just made the team. The last thing you want to do is make assumptions about your teammate and jeopardise your position before you’ve even picked up your uniform.

McLaggen senses it too. He gives your thigh a comforting squeeze under the table in acknowledgement. Silent reassurance that he not only heard it but understands your predicament.

“So, how long have you two been going out then?” Cerys asks.

You’re glad of another change of subject but you’re not sure when to start counting from.

“Since December,” says McLaggen, looking at you adoringly and not concerning Cerys with the finer on-and-off details. His warm smile and his hand on your leg make your stomach flip.

“And you both live down here?”

“McLaggen does. I’m about to stay with his family for a couple of weeks until we decide where to live.”

She groans. “You’re so lucky. It’s so hard to find a boyfriend from a decent family these days.” Well. Now you know what she means by that. You’re wondering why you’ve flown under her radar as a Muggle-born. Your performance at trials? Your being here with McLaggen?

Before either of you can reply, Cerys excuses herself to the bathroom. As soon as she’s out of earshot you turn to McLaggen. “What the fuck?” you half-laugh, half-exhale in disbelief.

He looks at her figure darkly as she disappears through the bathroom door. “I had a bad feeling as soon as she said who her dad was. You’ve heard of Amelia Bones, right?” he asks in a hushed voice.

The name sounds vaguely familiar. “Someone at the Ministry?”

“Amelia Bones was the Head of my dad’s department. But she was murdered - by You-Know-Who himself apparently.”

Your eyes widen. “Murdered?”

“And then everyone assumed Scrimgeour would put my dad in charge. But for some reason, he gave Thicknesse the job.” He shakes his head and takes a sip of his drink. “He and my dad are good friends… he must have had his reasons. But now Thicknesse is making everyone work on a ‘top secret’ piece of legislation.”

You frown. “How can legislation be top secret? Doesn’t it need to go through the Wizengamot? Anyone can turn up to watch those meetings.”

McLaggen shrugs. “None of it makes sense. I guess I’ll find out more when I start working there.” He puts down his pint glass glumly.

“You alright, McLaggen?”

“Yeah! Yeah, totally fine,” he says a bit too quickly, rearranging his face into a smile.

“Are you worried about your dad?”

“We’ll talk later. I don’t want to make things about me. Not when we’re celebrating.”

“Well, I think someone’s already put a bit of a dampener on that.” You give an edgy look at the ladies’ to make sure Cerys isn’t coming back. “Tell me. Please.”

He puts down his drink and takes both of your hands in his. “I am so incredibly, unbelievably proud of you. You know that, right?” You stare into his green eyes. He means it. “And seeing your dreams come true today makes me so happy. You’re so sure of what you want and so determined to get it - and today you did. But it also made me realise… I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“You mean working at the Ministry?”

“The more I find out about the office politics the less I want to work there.”

You twist your mouth, thinking about Amelia Bones. “It sounds really dangerous. I’m surprised your dad still wants you to join.”

“Yeah… I mean, I don’t think I’d be great at keeping secrets the way my dad does. Or working in an office with all those Ministry-types.”

“You’re starting to sound like my dad.” You allow yourself a small smirk but he doesn’t say anything, he just looks at your hands in his. “Cormac,” you add quietly. “You should take him up on his offer. It would mean you could at least lie low for a bit”

He lets out a tiny exhale of a laugh. “Yeah, right. My dad would kill me. He’d say it’d bring our whole family into shame if I ditched the Ministry to play a Muggle sport.”

“Well… you don’t need to tell him. Not right away,” you suggest. “Keep it vague - you could say you’re taking a gap year in Scotland. Hunting Nogtails or whatever it is you used to do with your Uncle Tiberius.”

McLaggen pauses, considering this. “Yeah… that might work.”

“We’ve still got a few weeks for you to decide.”

“What about us, though? I thought we were going to start looking at places to live near The Harpies’ training ground?”

“I’d move back to Scotland in a second. We could always get a flat, and connect it to the Floo Network so I can travel to Wales. I mean, we’d probably spend a fortune on Floo powder. But it would be worth it if we were both happy.”

He nods, looking considerably more cheerful than he had been a second ago. “Let’s talk about it back at mine. Here comes Cerys - we’ll make our excuses and get out of here after this drink.”

Cerys stops in the middle of the pub, talking to a tall, hulking boy with black hair who has his back to you.

“We might be in for a lucky escape,” you say. “Looks like her mate has finally arrived.”

Cerys waves brightly and starts walking over to your table. Her new companion turns around to follow her and with a sinking feeling, you recognise him. And from the way his eyes narrow when he spots you and McLaggen, he recognises you too.

Marcus Flint. He was the captain of the Slytherin Quidditch Team when you first started playing in your second year. He and your predecessor Rodger Davies hated each other with a passion. And for good reason. It was no secret that Marcus was highly selective when it came to the Slytherin team - only allowing purebloods to even try out whereas Davies was Muggle-born just like you. You frown, remembering how Flint would make a spectacle of wiping his hand on his robes after their Captain’s handshake.

Cerys sits back down. Her new companion doesn’t follow suit. “This is Marcus. Marcus this-”

“I didn’t expect to see you keeping company like this, Cerys,” Flint snorts.

She looks up from Marcus and back to the two of you, confused.

“You’re having drinks with an up-jumped daddy’s boy and a mudbl-”

“Careful,” McLaggen cuts across him warningly. “Say that word and we’re going to have a problem.”

“Careful?” laughs Flint. “You’re the one who should be careful, McLaggen.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“What is this?” asks Cerys, her nostrils flaring as she glares at you accusatorily. She looks at McLaggen. “Have you been confunded? Or maybe your dad just hasn’t told you.”

“Won’t be long til they’ve got them all rounded up, McLaggen. You should ditch her before they throw you in Azakaban too for being a blood traitor.”

Rounded up? Azkaban?

“I’m not going to tell you twice -” starts McLaggen, getting to his feet. You remember when you first started playing Quidditch you thought the then-sixth-year Flint was the biggest person you’d ever seen. But as McLaggen draws himself to his full height, you see the tiniest flicker of surprise in Flint’s eyes when McLaggen’s become level with his.

“Cormac, what’s going on?” you ask, panic making your heart pump wildly in your chest, all your senses telling you that something dangerous is about to happen.

“Nothing. It’s nonsense.”

“Didn’t you read this morning’s Prophet?” Flint sneers. “Times are changing. S’perfectly fine to call her what she is.” He takes a step towards McLaggen. “Mudblood.”

McLaggen takes a deep breath. “Flint, will you step outside, please?”

Marcus Flint sneers. “What? You gonna duel me, McLaggen?”

Absurdly McLaggen laughs. So loudly it attracts the attention of several other pub-goers. He looks at you as he laughs as if he simply can’t believe the punchline of a hilarious joke Flint has just told.

He straightens his face. “No.” He turns back to face Flint and looks at him seriously. “I’m going to beat the shit out of you.”

Before Flint can even twitch his fingers for his wand, McLaggen punches him square in the face. The witches and wizards in the pub reel away from the commotion in panic. Cerys screams and Flint grabs McLaggen’s shoulders, dragging him out of the front doors onto the gravel path outside.

You abandon your bags and brooms, almost knocking the table over to push Cerys out of the way and get through the door before her.

You burst outside in time to see Flint elbow McLaggen in the face as McLaggen drags him to the floor. They scramble on the ground, sending dust and pebbles flying. McLaggen gets up first, pushing down hard on Flint’s face against the gravel. Flint tries to lift himself up but McLaggen punches down, hitting him once, twice, three times. The sound of his fists make sickening, dull thuds as they sink into Flint’s face while he splutters on the ground raggedly.

You’d always joked you’d like to see McLaggen hit someone.

But this is brutal.

“Cormac!”

Your cry rips through the evening air, making McLaggen look up at you for a split second, his bloody fist raised above Flint’s head.

“Petrificus totalus!” screams a voice behind you.

You turn to see Cerys with her wand pointed at McLaggen.

His body goes rigid and you barely have time to register her using such an unfair, underhanded tactic before Flint kicks out from under him, getting to his feet. Using all his might, he kicks McLaggen’s constricted body right in the stomach and you hear the distinct crack of ribs breaking.

A horror-stricken sob escapes your lips as Flint walks around to his head, and it’s like you see the scene before you unfolding in slow motion as Flint raises a foot, getting ready to stamp on McLaggen’s face.

You don’t have time to think. You just react.

“Impedimenta!” you cry, brandishing your wand and sending Flint flying backwards. Before Cerys can open her mouth again, you dive on top of McLaggen and extend your wand.

“Protego!”

The shield charm forms an invisible barrier between you and McLaggen’s frozen body, and Cerys and Flint who’s getting to his feet. Flint limps over towards you but you hold fast, concentrating on your shield charm with all your might - exactly how McLaggen showed you.

“You dithgusting-” starts Flint but he stops, raising a hand to his mouth. Cerys looks at his face in shock. In the dim light coming from the pub windows, you can see that several of Flint’s front teeth are missing.

“Let’s go, Marcus,” she says, scowling at the two of you on the floor. “My father will hear about this.”

She links her arm through his and with a crack they disappear into the night.

With a shuddering gasp, you lower your wand and the shield charm breaks. You bring yourself to look at McLaggen. His eye is bloodshot and starting to bruise, and blood trickles from his nose into his mouth through parted lips.

“F-f-f-finite. Fuck! Finite incantatem,” you whisper shakily and he sits bolt upright, choking and coughing as your spell releases him from the body-bind curse. He pants, trying to catch his breath and spits out a significant amount of blood onto the dusty ground.

“Oh, Cormac,” you sob, looking at his broken nose and red welt on his eye.

“I’b alright…” he says thickly, pinching the bridge of his nose then thinking better of it with a wince.

“Do you want me to fix it?” you ask.

“Cab you?” he asks.

“You think I’ve never taken a bludger to the face?” You give his hand a soft squeeze and touch the tip of your wand to his nose. “Episkey.”

McLaggen scrunches up his face, feeling his nose resume its usual shape.

“I’ve never done ribs before. I think you need Skele-Gro.”

Every time you blink your mind switches from Flint kicking McLaggen to McLaggen pummelling Flint’s bloody face.

“I’m still handsome, right?” McLaggen’s voice snaps you out of it. You look seriously at his blood-strewn face, dripping down the front of his T-shirt. Flint came off worse, sure, but there’s no two ways about it - even in the moonlight you can see he’s taken a severe beating.

“Cormac, it’s not funny.”

You hear the noise of the pub revellers as the door opens and with a clatter and thud, the barmaid throws both of your brooms and rucksacks out onto the ground.

“Can you fly?” you ask, getting to your feet and extending a hand.

“I don’t think so.” He groans, accepting your hand and with a heave, you pull him up. McLaggen clutches his side and stumbles when he tries to put one foot in front of another. “It’s not far but we should probably just apparate.”

You quickly pick up all of your things and McLaggen shakes his head like a dog shaking water from his ears and nearly falls again.

“Christ, don’t do that Cormac. You might have a concussion.”

“I’m fine,” he insists.

You put his arm around your shoulders, taking as much of his weight as you can manage. It’s not easy given his size. Then when he shuffles forward everything goes dark as the familiar feeling of all-consuming pressure encapsulates your bodies and you disapparate.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You materialise outside a gate looking onto a sprawling lawn, spilling out in front of a historic country house a few miles deeper into the Surrey countryside.

“Wow,” you look at your surroundings as the moon streaks down, casting a pearlescent glow over the gates. “How far is the walk to yours? Not that I’m complaining,” you add, feeling his weight on your shoulders.

McLaggen gives you a confused look and points his wand at the gate tentatively. “About thirty seconds?”

Maybe he is concussed.

“Are you sure this is the right place?” You ask gently.

“I’m pretty confident I know where I live. Flint doesn’t have that good a right hook.”

You almost drop your brooms. You knew McLaggen was well off but this can’t be where he lives. “Tell me you’re joking.”

“Yeah, it’s just there. Woah - are you okay?”

You feel your knees buckle and it’s not to do with your strength faltering under his weight - although it doesn’t help - his house is bigger than your entire block of flats.

“This is your house?”

His wand emits a soft golden glow and the gate unlocks. He tries to push it open but lets out a wince of pain and grips his side.

“Here, let me,” you say. McLaggen holds onto the wall so you can shove the wrought iron gate. When you jam it open, you hook his arm over your shoulder so you can help him through.

You feel a trickle of embarrassment creeping through your body as you half-carry him through the open gate and up the path towards the manor thinking about your parents' little flat. Your bedroom so small that your bed is pushed up against the wall. It makes you want to retreat to the safety of your own home.

Home. With your Muggle parents.

You have a million more questions about what Cerys and Flint meant but now isn’t the time. McLaggen is in no fit state to answer them. Instead, you concentrate on helping McLaggen up the old stone steps leading to a pair of giant oak front doors.

“My dad will probably still be at the Ministry but let me do the talking if my mum is still awake.” You help him push the heavy double doors open with difficulty.

When you step inside and your eyes widen. Until now, the only place you’ve ever been before with an entrance hall like this is Hogwarts. This house is dark at this late hour but there’s enough light that your eyes can make out objects you’ve come to associate with the wizarding world.

There are moving portraits on the walls who peer out at you as you pass through the foyer. McLaggen’s family of times gone by - a few of them look aghast at his appearance as you half-carry him in.

In the centre of the ceiling is a giant, levitating armillary sphere, depicting the constellations around the earth. Tiny glowing stars light up the bronze ball, casting speckles of light throughout the entryway.

“You’re home!” Comes Mrs McLaggen’s voice, her heeled slippers clicking on the grand wooden staircase as she comes downstairs wearing a beautiful satin robe.

You feel McLaggen bracing himself for her reaction.

“So? Can I assume we have a famous Quidditch player staying with us?” She asks. “What are you doing down there in the dark? Lumos,” she says and a dozen gas lamps light up the hall.

She claps her hands to her chest when she reaches the bottom landing and lets out a whimper of shock when she sees you both.

“Mum, I can explain-“

“Cormac, darling, what on earth happened?!”

“We ran into some trouble. Just… let me get cleaned up before Dad comes home and sees.”

“Before I see what?” Comes a voice from upstairs.

Uh-oh. You and McLaggen glance at each other before looking up to see Mr McLaggen leaning over the balcony.

“What in the blazes have you two been doing, Cormac?” he sighs, coming downstairs.

“It’s my fault - not hers. I got into a fight.”

“You’ve been duelling?”

“Not exactly.”

Mr McLaggen reaches the bottom of the stairs and gets a better look at McLaggen’s bloody appearance.

“Merlin’s beard - don’t tell me you were Muggle brawling. And for goodness sake, stop using your girlfriend like a coat rack. I thought we raised you to behave like a gentleman.”

“I can manage-“ you start but your slightly strained voice gives you away.

“I think I’ve broken something,” says McLaggen.

Mr McLaggen positions himself under McLaggen’s other arm and you’re relieved when he takes the brunt of the load as the two of you help Cormac to the end of the hall and into a large, opulent dining room while Mrs McLaggen busies herself with picking up your things and lighting the chandelier with her wand. Mr McLaggen pulls out a chair so Cormac can sit down gingerly.

“I think he might need Skele-Gro. I’ve never mended ribs before,” you say. Mrs McLaggen puts your brooms, bags and wands on the dining room table before summoning some potions and fabric.

In the bright light of the room, you can see his lip is burst too. Mr McLaggen draws a chair in front of him while Mrs McLaggen dabs some potion on his face. Cormac winces when it stings his face, healing the skin almost immediately.

“Nose looks good. Did you fix that for him?” Mr McLaggen asks you and you nod, stunned silent by how awful he looks now you can see him properly.

“Hold this on your eye, sweetheart.” Mrs McLaggen hands him a piece of potion-soaked fabric.

“Did you win at least?” asks Mr McLaggen and Cormac hesitates.

“It was pretty even.” You answer for him. “I had to break it up with a shield charm.”

“That’s a tactful way of saying he lost,” says Mr McLaggen. “But at least one of you can use magic.”

This isn’t the reaction you’d expected at all. And judging by the confused look on Cormac’s face, he too had expected his dad to be furious.

“Cormac actually taught me how to do them this summer,” you admit.

“Well, it’s lucky he did,” says Mrs McLaggen, wiping blood from his face. “What a dreadful mess. Who did this to you, Cormac?”

“Dad…” says McLaggen in a strangled voice, looking past his mother warily. “It’s really bad. I’m sorry. It was a fight with Cerys Thicknesse’s friend. And she was there too. She’s going to tell her dad.”

Mr McLaggen freezes. For a moment, you think someone might have hit him with a body bind curse. “Cerys…? You can’t be serious.”

“I wasn’t thinking straight. Her friend was someone we went to school with and he -” he hesitates.

“He called me a mudblood,” you finish for him. Mrs McLaggen lets out a shocked shudder but Mr McLaggen just clenches his jaw.

“Cormac,” he says seriously, glancing at you. “I need you to tell me exactly what happened.”

He still doesn’t sound angry - just worried.

McLaggen removes the piece of fabric from his eye to look at his dad properly.

“Dad, I’m... I know I’ve made things difficult for you at work- ”

“Tell me everything - it’s imperative that I know all the details.”

McLaggen launches into the story, explaining what happened at the pub while his parents listen intently. When he gets to the part about Flint calling you ‘mudblood’, Mr McLaggen’s knuckles turn white. You fill in the gaps where Cormac’s memory is slightly hazy and Mrs McLaggen looks faint when you tell them about Cerys putting him in a body bind curse so Flint could hit him unarmed.

“And then we apparated here,” McLaggen finishes eventually. “But I still don’t know what they meant about Azkaban.”

“That’s where I come in,” says Mr McLaggen, taking off his glasses to clean them with a handkerchief from his pyjama pocket. “I’ve been trying my damndest for months to prevent something called the ‘Muggle-born Registration Commission’ coming to pass. You might have read in the Prophet this morning that it’s all but confirmed. And Rufus Scrimgeour didn’t come to work today. I fear the worst - it’s only a matter of time until they announce the Ministry has fallen.”

“Fallen? Dad, you mean-“

“Scrimgeour is either missing or dead. But the outcome will be the same.”

He says it matter-of-factly but you can see the pain in his green eyes, so strikingly similar to his son’s when he puts his glasses back on. They were good friends. Such good friends they spent Christmas together. And now he was gone.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Your father came home from work early to tell you. And when the two of you didn’t come back right away from tryouts, we assumed it had gone well and you’d be down the road at the pub,” says Mrs McLaggen. “We wanted to let you both have one last day of…” she trails off. You understand. Those precious couple of hours when all your dreams had come true were almost perfect. They wanted you to have that moment.

“And the Muggle-born registration commission?” asks McLaggen, extending his hand to take yours and gripping it tightly. “What does it mean?”

“All Muggle-borns will soon be asked to register officially with the Ministry so the source of their magic can be investigated.”

“The source?” Your face screws up in confusion.

“Unless you can prove that you have at least one close wizarding relative, the commission deems that you must have obtained your magical power illegally and you’ll be put on trial. But these will be sham trials - any Muggle-borns who present themselves will be arrested.”

“Well, we’ll just say you’re my sister or something,” says McLaggen defiantly.

“Cormac, there’s no way- ” you start but Mr McLaggen beats you to it.

“You and I both know that everyone at the Ministry knows our family. And therein lies our problem with your altercation with Cerys,” Mr McLaggen looks at you. “I had made sure your name was erased from the record of recent Hogwarts graduates. But if Cerys knows, I’m sure she’ll make sure her dad adds your name to the list again.”

Mr McLaggen had erased your name. Now you understand why he couldn’t look you in the eyes when you met - he was putting his career and his entire family at risk to keep you safe. Your heart sinks realising that it was all for nought. McLaggen groans and rests his head in his hands. “Shit.”

Mrs McLaggen makes a disapproving noise at his language but she touches his shoulder gently.

“It’s not your fault, Cormac,” you say. “Flint knew I was Muggle-born.”

“Realistically, it was only a matter of time,” says Mr McLaggen. “But I thought you’d be safe here for a while. Now we’ll need to move swiftly and carefully so as not to draw attention to ourselves.”

“Dad, can’t you stop it from the inside? When I start working at the Ministry we could do it together,” says McLaggen bracingly, trying to sit upright in his chair.

“I’ve tried to do everything I can to stop it already. And with Scrimgeour gone, we need to be seen to be cooperating. I have a feeling Dolores Umbridge will be keeping a close eye on me after your involvement with Dumbledore’s Army last year. She knows I have a son who’s sympathetic to the resistance.”

Cormac groans again. Between his actions and your presence, the two of you have put McLaggen’s family at risk.

“I should go,” you decide out loud. “You heard Flint, Cormac. It’s not safe for any of you if I’m staying here.”

The three of them protest immediately but Mr McLaggen protests the loudest and everyone turns to listen to him.

“No. The two of you can go to your Uncle Tiberius’s first thing tomorrow. When things settle, we’ll join you. But who knows how long that will take.”

“I need to be with my parents.”

“They’re only in danger if you’re with them. The Ministry doesn’t care about Muggles who have produced magical children - only the witches and wizards themselves,” says Mr McLaggen solemnly. “The best thing you can do to protect them is to keep your distance, write to them and pretend everything is as it should be.”

You feel your eyes welling up. Being brave doesn’t come easily to you the way it seems to come to Cormac and his family, so you shut your eyes and nod solemnly, hoping to stave off the tears.

Just this afternoon you were about the join the Holyhead Harpies. Now you’re going into hiding. You were going to move to Scotland near your parents. Now you’re not sure when you’ll see them again.

“How about I make us some tea?” asks Mrs McLaggen. “And then we can all get some rest.”

McLaggen nods resignedly and Mrs McLaggen conjures a teapot from thin air. You watch numbly as the teapot busies itself, filling three china teacups with the hot liquid before one of the cups slides in front of you.

“Something stronger than tea for you, darling,” says Mrs McLaggen, conjuring two small cups and pouring Skele-Gro into one. “And something to help you sleep through the pain.” She pours a purple potion that you recognise as a sleeping draught in the other cup. McLaggen drinks the Skele-Gro with a grimace and goes to pick up the other cup.

“Not here. I’m not carrying you unconscious upstairs, you great lump,” Mr McLaggen admonishes.

“Oh, right. Yeah,” says McLaggen sheepishly.

As you drink your steaming hot cup of tea McLaggen screws his face up.

“You alright, McLaggen?”

“Yeah, it’s just the Skele-Gro. It’s definitely kicking in.”

He eventually manages to stand up and Mrs McLaggen tells you pointedly that the guest bedroom is next door to Cormac’s room. The two of you bid his parents goodnight before slowly making your way upstairs as McLaggen grips onto the bannister and you carry the small cup of sleeping draught carefully.

“This is my room.” He nods at the door and you open it, letting him in.

There’s no need for a bed to be pushed up against the wall for space in here. His four-poster sits in front of an airy bay window overlooking the vast moonlit grounds outside. With a pained exhale he sits on the edge of the bed.

“This is adorable,” you say, picking up a framed photo of a children’s Quidditch team on his bedside table. “Which one are you?”

“Wait for it,” he sighs. A small boy on a broom cuts through the group and the rest of the team scatters.

“That makes more sense,” you giggle, watching an eight-year-old McLaggen causing chaos. “It’s very cute.”

He shakes his head. “I had meant to tidy that away before you came to visit.”

“I used to think you were tough, McLaggen. This is much better,” you say, replacing the picture on the table.

“I’ve been in a pub fight today. I think that’s pretty tough.”

You sit beside him on the bed and look at his blood-stained t-shirt.

“I’ll help you get this off.” He winces as you help him take it off over his head. You help him undress and arrange his pillows so he can lie back comfortably.

“I’d hoped you’d be taking my clothes off in here under different circumstances,” he says, a little weakly. And despite his injuries, he still manages to give you an arrogant smile that makes you melt.

“Well, I still get to enjoy the view,” you shoot back with a grin as you pull the feather-down duvet over him.

“Sleep in here tonight.” He grips your hand as you smooth out the quilt and those green eyes look at you beseechingly.

“Your parents have been so good to me - I need to respect their wishes. But I’ll stay here til you fall asleep,” you say, running your fingers through his hair. He leans into your touch when you stroke his face. His stubbly chin somehow feels as comforting against your palm as your own touch reassures him. “Drink up.” You pass him the sleeping draught.

He does so and you trace your thumb over his healed lip, wiping away the purple liquid.

“Still handsome. Your dad was right - I did do a good job with your nose.”

He exhales softly and you see his eyelids getting heavier.

“I’m sorry about tonight,” he says sleepily.

You’re not annoyed at him. It would be hypocritical of you to criticise him for being hot-headed and getting into a fight. You’d have done the same in his position. And yes, it was awful - you’ve never been so scared. But McLaggen would go to the ends of the earth for you. And you for him.

“Don’t be sorry. You were standing up for me.”

“Not that -“ He stifles a yawn. “I’m sorry… that you have to… go into hiding.”

You’re trying not to think about your dreams of playing for the Holyhead Harpies shattering into a million pieces.

“I’m just glad we’re together.”

You look sadly at the photo of the little quidditch team. McLaggen zooms in and out of frame in his yellow robes.

“You never told me you were a Wimbourne Wasps fan.”

When he doesn’t reply you look back to see he’s fast asleep - dead to the world. You kiss him on the head and inhale deeply. The beautiful, comforting smell of amber and jasmine calms all of your senses. Everything has gone wrong. But it’ll all be alright in the end.

Just then an urgent clanging sound rings, echoing through the vast hallway outside. You hear Mr and Mrs McLaggen running into the hallway downstairs, their voices raised in panic but Cormac doesn’t even stir.

You wrench your wand from your pocket and leap off the bed and out of the door. When you look over the bannister, you see the giant armillary sphere spinning wildly, the glowing stars burning red.

“The gate?” Mrs McLaggen asks her husband, colour draining from her face.

“Oh no,” you whimper and they look up at you.

You were so encumbered helping Cormac and carrying your belongings that you didn’t shut the enchanted gate behind you. And you can tell by their panic that the gate had some sort of protective enchantment.

Mr McLaggen grabs his wife’s shoulders “I’m sorry.”

He spins around and points his wand at you.

“Expelliarmus!”

Your wand flies from your hand before you even realise what’s happening. Mrs McLaggen shrieks and backs into the wall in terror, away from her husband.

“Gregor!” calls a voice from the front doors. “I’ve received word you’re harbouring a Muggleborn.” A man with long black hair and a pointed silver beard storms through the entryway, accompanied by two others who you assume to be Aurors.

“She’s upstairs, Thicknesse. We’ve got her!” Mr McLaggen calls back.

Fuck.

Chapter 12: Cold, Hard Facts

#cormac mclaggen x female reader #cormac mclaggen #cormac mclaggen x reader #ravenclaw #ravenclaw fanfiction #fanfic #harry potter and the half blood prince #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #freddie stroma

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pocket-lad · 8 months

Text

CH 1- Something of an Unsolvable, Fascinating Mystery, but in Essence, a Friend

Hey, so I'm writing a multi-chapter Jurassic Park g/t fic. You can also find it on my Ao3 account - pocket_lad.

Massive shoutout to @obwjam for being so helpful and encouraging. I would not have had the courage to write or post this without their support, so please check them out. Much love!

***

In hindsight, coming with Ian was probably a bad idea.

It was definitely a bad idea.

The pocket was stuffy. The humidity was already getting to her, and they weren’t even near Costa Rica yet, meaning it would only get worse. Everything was sticky. Her clothes, her hair, the black, heat-retaining fabric of Ian’s shirt. She felt like she would suffocate at any moment.

Though somehow spared from the normal sounds a helicopter usually came with (or so she assumed), this was the bounciest, roughest ride Adelaide had ever experienced. And living with a giant meant she experienced rough rides pretty much daily.

Despite the humidity, Adelaide clung onto the dark insides of Ian’s breast pocket for dear life during their ascent. The roar of his voice coming from above and behind her barely made it to her ears as she put all her focus into not breaking a limb.

As the helicopter began to level out after takeoff though, she found she was able to loosen her death grip on the fabric a little. This didn’t eradicate her fear – it only shifted the feeling from being about the plane to being about the giants lounging around them. There had to be at least a couple, and Adelaide was starting to wonder how she’d make it through this trip and avoid notice. With nothing else to do, she turned her focus to the giants’ conversation.

“No? Non-linear equations? Strange attractors? Dr. Sattler, I-I refuse to believe that you aren't familiar with the concept of attraction,” Ian said, loudly chewing his gum.

Adelaide rolled her eyes. They’d been on this trip for how long? Less than an hour? And Ian was already hitting on somebody. She could see the sly grin on his face without even having to look at him. Adelaide had to see this woman for herself, so slowly, carefully, and very cautiously, she pulled herself up to the lip of Ian’s pocket. Just for a quick peek.

The fresh air greeted her face as it took her a second to locate the woman. She sat across and one seat down from Ian, though the space was small and cramped, so she wasn’t too far away. Adelaide absently noted that there were quite a few giants in the plane with her.

Oh, okay, Adelaide thought. That makes sense.

The woman was gorgeous, but in an effortless way. She was very tall, even for a giant, and her blonde hair was haphazardly pulled back into a loose twist. Her blue eyes sparkled with curiosity, though clearly, they could see right through what Ian was pulling. She smiled an infectious smile that made Adelaide want to do the same. No wonder Ian hit on her.

Curious, and admittedly stalling before she had to retreat into the cramped, gross pocket, Adelaide took note of the other people in the plane. Or at least tried to. In the corner next to the woman sat a middle-aged man with a fun hat and widened eyes that were looking directly at Adelaide.

Uh oh.

***

Ian proposed the trip to Adelaide a couple weeks prior. She knew he was excited, so she hated to break the news, but she made her decision. It was too risky.

“I’m not going.”

“It’s not like I can just leave you here,” he said.

As the afternoon dragged on, the temperature was approaching ninety-five degrees, leaving Adelaide in a melted puddle on the kitchen table. She never understood how Ian essentially lived in his leather jacket, especially during the Texas summers.

“Oh, so you think I can’t handle myself? You think I’m completely dependent on you?” Adelaide goaded, sitting up and raising her eyebrow. She knew he didn’t really think that, but she also knew it would make him feel guilty. Ian loved to tease her, but he always made sure to protect her sense of independence. But a trip to some unknown place with unknown people? And they’d have to take a helicopter to get there? Something that flew in the sky??? No thanks. She survived by herself long before Ian came into the picture, and she’ll do it long after he leaves. A couple days would be nothing.

Ian gave her a look that said he knew what she was trying to do, and that it was not working.

“Come on. It’ll only be a couple of days. See the world, see some dinosaurs,” he rambled.

Adelaide interrupted him. She still wasn’t clear on what a dinosaur was exactly, but she knew Ian’s feelings on the subject. “You said yourself that it wasn’t going to work!”

“No, obviously it- it won’t, but I need to be there to say...well...I told you so. And I uh, I want you to be there with me.” Ian gave her a charming smile and kneeled next to the table, putting himself at eye level with her. “A couple of days,” he repeated. “That’s all.”

Adelaide knew it was a losing battle, especially when he positioned himself to make direct eye contact with her.

“Fine,” she agreed, “but I don’t want you showing me off to any Beans unless I say so.” She made sure her tone indicated that she still wasn’t thrilled about the idea. Ian didn’t notice or didn’t care, as he swept her off her feet in a loose grip to go get ready.

“Dude!” she screamed, falling back onto her butt as she lost all sense of direction. “Stop doing that!”

***

Adelaide ducked back down into the pocket, her heart pounding. The man saw her. Like really saw her! The logical part of her brain realized that this was probably inevitable. At some point or another, a Human Bean was bound to see her. It was only a matter of time, but she at least wanted to delay it as long as possible, because outside of Ian, she had never been seen by a Bean before. In no way was she ready to interact with one.

In their brief moment of eye contact, Adelaide noticed that he was fidgeting with a curved, sharp object longer than she was tall. She couldn’t help but think about what the purpose of the object was, and even if it was illogical, how easily it could be used against her.

Adelaide chided herself for messing up so soon. Maybe if she held still, he would just assume it was his imagination. But even she couldn’t believe that.

What Adelaide didn’t see after she retreated to the depths of the pocket was Alan’s eyes flickering between the pocket and Ian. He didn’t know what to think or say, or should he even say anything? Nobody else acknowledged the tiny being.

Ian kept a close eye on everyone and noticed Alan’s odd behavior. He had felt Adelaide shifting around and wondered what she was doing. Getting into trouble, apparently.

Context clues filled in the rest, and Ian picked up on what Alan had gathered. Alan was smart. There was no way he was going to let this go, and Ian also knew this was going to happen eventually, so instead of wasting his time trying to convince Alan that Adelaide wasn’t real, he took control of the situation.

“Ah, you seem to have spotted my- my friend here? Della, why don’t you come out and introduce yourself?” Ian gave it a second, but when nothing happened, he regrettably stuck his hand into the pocket to fish her out.

With every word Ian said, Adelaide’s dread grew tenfold. What was he doing!? All the time they spent together, all the trust they built? She may have been comfortable with him, but he knew she was not to be shown to any other Bean without her consent. Ever.

When Ian reached for her, she kicked at his fingers and pressed into the far corner of the pocket, as far away from his giant, stupid hand as possible. She was only going to come out on her own terms, which was hopefully never.

Obviously, her kicks did not hurt him and therefore did nothing to stop the hand from approaching. It took him multiple attempts to slide his fingers underneath her, glued to the corner of the pocket as she was, but eventually he got a secure hold. Desperate, Adelaide pulled out an old trick that she hadn’t needed to use in a long time. She bit him.

Adelaide could hear Ian hiss, then quietly laugh as if trying to play it cool, but he just readjusted his grip and continued to pull her out. Gently, though, as ever. Always gentle. Always careful.

Adelaide thrashed and thrashed and thrashed. How could he not take the hint? She was explicitly telling him no. Not now. She thrashed until she saw the bright light of day, then held completely still, not wanting to look like some feral animal to these unfamiliar giants. She only half succeeded as she was unceremoniously held out on Ian’s palm, sweaty and disheveled, hair sticking out at odd angles from the leftover static of his pocket.

When Ian’s hand uncurled, Adelaide held a hand up to her eyes, shielding her from the light. She blinked a couple of times, and once her vision adjusted, her heart dropped through her stomach, out of her butt, and fell right through the floor of the helicopter into the ocean, washed away and never to be seen again.

There were exactly four other Beans in the plane with her, probably excluding the one that had to be flying the massive machine.

Despite spending the last few months with Ian, he still overwhelmed her at times. But this was something completely different, completely worse. She was surrounded on all sides by giants who could do anything to her. They could reach out and grab her, they could hurt her, they could kill her. They could eat her.

Back when Ian first discovered her, Adelaide was worried that he might eat her, among other things. It’s what she was raised to believe. Human Beans ate borrowers. Later, once she admitted this to Ian, he laughed a condescendingly loud laugh.

“Humans don’t even know you exist, for one. And even if they did,” he assured her, barely able to keep a straight face, “they surely would, um, not - not eat you.”

Of course, she believed him now, but being this close to so many of them, all staring directly down at her, it was hard to keep that at the front of her mind.

Adelaide remained frozen, save for her hammering heart and wide eyes. They continuously darted around, keeping all the Beans in her sight in case one of them made a move. It’s not that she didn’t trust Ian to keep her safe if anything were to happen, (even though that trust slipped a little when he pulled her out and presented her like some kind of show & tell trinket) but Adelaide and Adelaide only was responsible for keeping Adelaide safe.

Her hands instinctively went to clutch the knife that always hung at her side, but it seemed as though it, along with her bag, was left behind in the pocket. Probably fell off in her battle against the probing fingers. Adelaide felt naked without that knife, and infinitely more defenseless.

It was another moment before she realized Ian was talking to her.

“Della. Say hi.”

She whipped her head to look back at him, astonished that he was still following through with this, and when his face gave her no hints, she whipped it back around to look at the others, unable to make direct eye contact with any of them for more than a second.

“Hi,” she said shortly, looking at the palm beneath her.

She tried not to let any of her nerves show, but out on Ian’s open palm like this, under such scrutiny, Adelaide couldn’t help but curl in on herself a little bit, arms clasped awkwardly in front of her.

Ian let out a small, resigned sigh. That was fair. He shouldn't have expected anything different.

The man sitting to Ian’s right finally broke the silence.

“What is that?” he asked loudly.

It was an innocent enough question. Adelaide couldn’t help but admire his forwardness. She smirked, even if she was mildly offended at being referred to as a “that”.

“’That’, Gennaro, is...well, I’m not quite sure, actually. ‘That’ is something of a fascinating mystery that I have not been able to- to solve, but in essence, ‘that’ is uh...that is my friend. ‘That’ is Della,” Ian explained.

While Ian showed off his ability to talk without saying anything, Adelaide tried to place where she heard this man before. He sounded familiar, but she didn't recognize his face, so he wasn’t a frequent visitor to Ian’s house. He looked a little ridiculous in his nice tan coat and matching shorts over skinny legs. His bewildered face made Adelaide laugh internally, until she realized that she and him were essentially staring each other down. She quickly looked away.

Gennaro....Gennaro.... OH!

***

Adelaide sat on the arm of Ian’s uncomfortable, impossibly hard couch, listening to the phone that lay on his chest, set to speaker for her to hear. Not that she’d ever participate, but she appreciated his efforts to include her.

“You’re not gonna wanna pass this one up, Malcolm. It won’t take any time at all. Just one weekend in Costa Rica. Paid.”

“Yeah, with a bunch of insufferable geneticists,” Ian muttered. He was sprawled out across the couch, resting his feet on his unbelievably expensive coffee table. His body gave off an air of indifference, but his mind was as alert as ever, the gears churning rapidly.

“This may be huge. I’d hate for you to miss the opportunity to be a part of something so innovative, so...amazing.”

“If it works.”

“If it works. And if it doesn’t, no harm, no foul. You can do your thing, let them know how...wrong they were or whatever...You’d be doing me a huge favor, Ian. And you know you love the attention."

Adelaide laughed and Ian shot her a look. “You do love attention,” she said. “And telling people off.” Her voice was too quiet to be picked up by the phone.

Ian rolled his eyes as he responded to Gennaro. “Yeah, no, I - I do. Tell you what. Let me think it over. I’ll let you know soon.” Without waiting for a reply, he placed the phone back on the receiver and hung up.

“Well, what do you think?” Adelaide ventured. She wasn’t quite sure where his head was at, but the thought of leaving, even for a few days, made her nervous. The possibility of literally anything happening when she stepped foot outside of the house increased by a million.

“Oh, we’re going,” he said as he shot to his feet, his excitement evident. “Chaos is already oozing out of this- this 'park' and we haven’t even left yet. It’ll be unparalleled.”

We.

Adelaide gave him a shaky smile as he walked away. ‘We haven't even left yet.’ We are going.

***

When Adelaide came back to the present, Ian had just finished his unintelligible explanation of what she was.

“Ah,” was all Gennaro could say, clearly not understanding but wanting to let the subject go.

“Can I say hi?” Ellie asked. The curiosity Adelaide noticed in her eyes earlier was stronger than ever, and her mouth hung slightly agape. She wasn’t talking to Adelaide though. She was asking Ian. Adelaide felt a bit miffed about that one - Ellie talked over her like she was some kind of pet.

Ian shrugged, jostling Adelaide a little. It was all she could do not to fall over, but Ian said nothing further, indicating that it was up to Adelaide.

Ellie took that as her cue anyway, so she leaned in to get on Adelaide’s eye level. Though it was probably a normal speed for Ellie, it was much too fast and much too close for Adelaide’s comfort. She leapt back with a small yelp, causing her to fall onto her back. So much for not falling over.

“Oh! I didn’t mean to startle you,” Ellie said in a voice that was a little too loud for Adelaide’s small ears, but there was no way she was going to cover them. She couldn’t look any weaker than she had already made herself appear. It was times like this where she remembered just how gentle Ian was with her, how often he slowed his movements or quieted his voice for her benefit.

Ellie continued when Adelaide didn’t say anything. “But uh, I’m Dr. Ellie Sattler. I’m a paleobotanist. This here’s Dr. Alan Grant.”

Alan was still in shock. He wasn’t quite sure what to say, so he tipped his hat toward Adelaide with an awkward, “How do you do?”

“Oh,” Adelaide said.

Stupid! Say something else! she thought. But nothing came. It was all too much, and she needed a moment to think.

Sensing Adelaide’s uneasiness, Ellie prompted, “So your name’s Della?”

That snapped her out of it. Adelaide hated that nickname. Nobody had ever called her that until she met Ian. He came up with the name not long after their first introduction and once he knew she didn’t like it, he never stopped calling her that. As time wore on, she corrected him less and less, and at this point it was almost endearing, but Adelaide was nothing if not stubborn.

“Adelaide,” she said. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” She pointed her thumb back at Ian without turning around.

This made Ellie laugh, and she was pretty sure she saw Alan chuckle too, even though she was only half-joking. At this, Adelaide’s shoulders released a hair of tension.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Adelaide.” Ellie said as she retreated to her upright position, once again too quickly (though her eyes remained trained on the small person), leaving Adelaide dazed and breathless. Beans moved fast.

Directly across from Ian, an older man dressed completely in white held up his hands in a placating matter, startling Adelaide. He looked directly at her and said, “I don’t mean any offense miss,” He had a funny accent that Adelaide wouldn't be able to place if she tried. His gaze shifted up to Ian and Gennaro. “But neither of you told me you’d be bringing a guest on this excursion. She obviously won’t be any trouble, given her...well...her stature.” He gestured vaguely at her. Adelaide kept her eyes trained on those hands. “But I like to know who’s coming in and out of my park.”

“You think I knew about this?” Gennaro protested.

Adelaide did not like the thought of giants fighting over her, especially suspended in a metal box a billion feet above the ocean, but she didn’t need to worry.

Before Ian could rise to her defense, the old man sighed. “No bother. Can’t change the past, can only move forward.” He gave Adelaide a smile that she forced herself to return.

Ian’s palm started to move skyward, taking Adelaide with it. I guess he’s decided I’ve had enough socialization, she thought dryly. But his hand stopped by his shoulder, indicating he wanted her to get off. She complied, not because she wanted to, but because she didn’t want to fight with him in front of everybody, and she knew the pocket would just get hotter and stickier, amplifying her miserable attitude.

She sat down hard with her back against his neck and her legs stretched out along his shoulder, facing the window of the plane. Though almost everybody could still see her, if she faced forward, Adelaide could pretend that they didn’t exist. Or she could at least try to. She’d be lying if she said she couldn’t feel all their eyes boring holes into her back.

The giants continued for the rest of the ride mostly in silence, only punctuated by the occasional polite conversation about each other and about the island. Adelaide couldn’t bother to pay attention to any of it though. She was still furious at Ian, and she wished she could have just stayed home.

Not one hour ago, Ian was the only Bean who knew she existed. Now there were five, and with the way the trip was going so far, more were probably on the way. Adelaide was mad, yes, but she was also scared, not that she’d admit it. Coming to trust Ian had taken a long time and a lot of things had to happen on his part before she even considered being near him.

Adelaide was not afforded that luxury with these people. She did not know who they were or what their intentions were. They seemed nice enough, but she didn’t actually know them. Businessmen, lawyers, scientists, all with their own agendas. They could kidnap her, dissect her, sell her. But what Adelaide was most afraid of was what she had the least control over. They could talk about her. Her existence, and therefore the existence of borrowers, could be widespread news by the time this trip was over. Even Ian had next to no knowledge about her kind, and Adelaide wanted to keep it that way. She would have put her whole species in danger, and for what? Extinct animals?

Adelaide’s ears perked up when she heard the old man say, “There it is!”

Everyone turned to look at the sprawling green hills of Costa Rica. Just as she felt herself begin to calm down at the sight of the gorgeous, lush, peaceful landscape, the helicopter suddenly dropped a couple of feet, sending Adelaide into the air. She yelped as she crash landed back onto Ian’s shoulder. Though she luckily didn’t fall off, Ian’s hand was there in an instant, just in case.

She appreciated the gesture, but remembered she was still supposed to be mad at him, so she batted at his fingers. “I’m fine,” she said, though the helicopter continued to jerk around with unpredictable movements.

“Bad wind sheers,” the old man explained. “We have to drop pretty fast, so hold on. Cause it can get just a little bumpy." He buckled his seat belt as another big drop sent Adelaide flying again.

“Probably best to get in the pocket,” Ian said. Adelaide hesitated. She wanted to put up a fight, but she might actually fall to her death if she wasn’t careful. So.

“Okay,” she said, letting no emotion shine through.

Even if she wanted to protest, Ian’s fingers were suddenly there, taking up her whole view. He didn’t wait any longer before his fingers wrapped securely around her whole body, pinning her arms to her sides. A brief jolt of fear shot up Adelaide’s spine as his grip tightened more than usual.

She squeezed her eyes shut. He’s not going to hurt you. It’s bumpy. He just doesn’t want to drop you.

Adelaide felt herself shoved into the pocket. It didn’t have a flap or a button to close her in, so Ian held his hand firmly but gently over her body to keep her stable.

Once again, she appreciated the gesture, but she couldn’t help feeling incredibly claustrophobic. It seemed as though the sweat she left behind from earlier hadn’t evaporated, rendering her time out in the fresh air useless. Now, with the temperature hotter, the humidity higher, and her nerves running high, the pocket became an unbearable bowl of Adelaide stew. Not to mention Ian’s hand pressed her into the fabric and into the wall of his chest.

She couldn’t take it anymore. Adelaide shoved against his hand with all her might. She may not have been able to budge it on her own, but he’d definitely be able to feel it. Yet he refused to let up.

She could hardly move, hardly breathe. Every breath she took fogged up the air even more, choking her. Trapped. I’m trapped. Adelaide needed to get out. Now.

She shoved and shoved, using way more energy than she should have. Whether it was the panic attack or lack of oxygen or overexertion of her body, Adelaide’s eyes slowly fluttered closed as she passed out.

#jurassic park #ian malcolm #giant/tiny #g/t #jurassic park g/t

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jstarr86 · 7 months

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This story will be posted over on my Wattpad as all my other chapter work is, please head over there for stories containing multiple parts and enjoy 🥰

CH 1

1992

I stepped out of the car, the moving van pulling up behind it. Florida all the way across the country. I didn’t know what to feel, it was pretty so far but I was kinda scared it was different and I didn’t know anyone. I saw my mom talking to someone and walked up to her. She paused looking down at me a smile gracing her face.

“This is Natasha, Sweetheart this is Ms Lisa” I waved she seemed really nice.

“Hi.” I said shyly. A little boy ran up a large smile on his face as he stopped looking at me.

“Hi I’m Joe.”

“Hi,”

“What’s your name?”

“Natasha.”

“Wanna play?”

“Um sure ok.”

“Cool come on.” I followed him not knowing I’d be doing it forever or that I’d met my best friend.

3 Weeks Later

I was playing with Joe, we’d played every day since I’d moved in. It was summer so he was really the only person I knew right now, but I was ok with that he was really fun to be around

“Hey do you wanna go to my cousins with me I’m sure no one will care.” He said goosing the ball

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah why not we’re going to be in school together they’re my best friends kinda like you. They’re twins.”

“Ok.”

“Joe are are ready to go? Hello Natasha.”

“Hello Ms Lisa.”.

“Mom can Natasha come.”

“If her mom there is ok with that I’m sure it’s fine.”

Getting to his cousins I followed Joe as he walked in and I already saw him talking to two boys

“These are my cousins, guys this is Natasha and this is Jon.”

“Hi.”

“Hi I’m Josh.”

Fatu twins and Anoai. I’d been friends with them since day 1 and when that used to be how they were called or triple threat. The four musketeers My best friends, my life. I was so grateful for them, they’d had my back since I moved here and I know my life wouldn’t be the same without them hell I don’t think the move or my life would be as amazing had I not met them

I’d met Joe at 6 when my family moved to Pensacola and we became next door neighbors. My father was in the Navy, I had been born in San Diego California spending the first 6 years of my life in Miramar California since my father was stationed there. TOPGUN I’m sure you’ve heard of it and it’s a real place it’s not there anymore it was moved to Nevada but back then it was also at that base. When I was 6 my father got a promotion and we moved all the way to Florida. They’d found a nice little home off base and that’s where I met Joe; He’s been my best friend since, and within weeks I was friends with his cousins Jon and Josh, those three have been inseparable their entire lives and Joe is just an extra brother instead of a cousin. Always hanging out, playing sports, watching wrestling every week, always together. I spent the summer playing with them and once school started I met more people but no one was ever like us four. We all went to school together our whole lives minus Joe's freshman year where he was at some private catholic school until he got Ms Lisa to switch him to Escambia where the twins and I were. All my classes was always with at least one of them, even though they were a year older I was smart and was skipped a grade so since I’d known them we were together. So much so that rumors always flew as we grew that it was more or like in late middle and through high school I was sleeping with all of them. My ego loves that because they were all fine as hell but was so far from the truth, for the most part. I had lost my virginity to Joe when I was 14 and he had just recently turned 16. His birthday was in May and mine was in August like the twins. Yeah we thought the other attractive but it was mostly a I feel comfortable with you do this, we always knew we were better friends and this never changed our relationship but come that Christmas season we’d both learn that someone was seeing me as more than a best friend and had for a couple years.

When we turned 12 I went from Nat to Snickers. At first I hated it but now I’m used to it. It stuck and everyone ended up calling me it. My best friends had called me it once it was clear puberty had it and it hit hard. One day I was the normal tomboyish girl not really anything and the next morning I had boobs, curves and a ass. I remember waking up freaking out crying and putting clothes on that didn’t fit me before I jumped out of my bedroom window and walking the two feet knocking on my best friends a blanket around me. He opened the window looking at me like I was crazy.

“You sick of something Nat?”

“Can I borrow some clothes?”

“Um yeah, why you have tons.” I sighed opening my blanket as his jaw dropped.

“Yeah and they don’t fit help me.” My shirt that used to be normal was to the middle of my stomach not being able to fit over my boobs and my shorts were way to small

“Holy shit.”

“Joe!”

“I um yeah come in.” He grabbed a big shirt and some basketball shorts handing me them and I quickly went to put them on. I went shopping with my mom getting all new clothes and the twins when they saw me freaked just like Joe.

“What the hell where did all that come from?”

“Where’s Natasha and what did you do?”

“Shut up.” I said embarrassed “everyone at school is gonna be saying shit.”

“And we’ll fight them. But for real you look thicker than a snicker got damn.”

“Jonathan.” I wined

“I mean Nat you woke up like that.” Joe said pointing at me.

“Yo most girls would kill for that like damn you got thick.” Josh muttered. “Lemme touch it.” I glared at him but inside something cluttered in my stomach

“Snickers.”

“What about them.”

“Nah that’s you.”

“Yeah all that booty thicker than a snicker.”

“Our snickers.”

“I hate all three of you.”

“No you don’t.” They responded and after that the name stuck

I walked into Joes room tossing my backpack. He chuckled knowing I wasn’t very happy.

“You ok Snickers?”

“Kinda.”

“Wanna talk about it.”

“I’m tired of being a virgin.”

“Oh. Well I mean we’re 15 we’ll you about to be I just turned 16 and I didn’t know you-“

“Bullshit you're my best friend you know I am when the hell have you seen me with a guy let alone you guys won’t let one near me.”

“Cause we hear how they talk about you we ain’t letting some asshole just date you to hit it and tell everyone. They care about all that.” He said pointing at me “and not this.” He said poking a finger into my chest where my heart was

“Will you.”

“Will I what?” He asked looking up from his game

“Take it.”

“Take what?”

“Joe really, ugh this is already weird, take my virginity.” He dropped the controller looking at me like I was crazy.

“What!?”

“Your my best friend why not.”

“Why me why not one of the twins?” He asked confused and it made me nervous maybe I shouldn’t have asked but I couldn’t ask the twins Jon plays to much and Josh, I couldn’t ask Josh even if I wanted too.

“I’m closer to you and Jon plays too much I’ll hear about this the rest of my life if I asked him and you know it and I can’t ask Josh. Joe I only trust you guys, please.”

“Why can’t you ask Josh?”

“I can’t.”

“Snickers.” He said making me look at him. “Oh shit do you like him, like like him like him.”

“Joe.” I whined blushing.

“Oh my god how did I not know and since when.””

“If you tell him I’ll slit your fucking throat.”

“I won’t but you like him.”

“Ugh yeah ok I like Josh”

“Since when?”

“A little while. So I can’t ask him.”

“Why not like wouldn’t that make you wanna ask him more.”

“No because what if he says no or is weird or it changes shit and if he says no it’ll bother me and I don’t wanna catch more feelings if I sleep with him Joe it’ll probably make me like him more and I can’t do that.”

“You sure about this?”

“I’d rather it be someone I trust and am comfortable with and your my best friend.”

“Ok.” I looked up at him shocked he’d said ok he got up as I looked at him.

“Where-“

“I’m not doing this and taking a chance of having a baby we’re kids we don’t need that I’m sure there’s a condom in this house.” Five minutes later he was back and locked his door holding up a foil pack. “Told ya.”

“Shut up.”

“You sure about this Snickers like once we do this you can’t take it back.”

“I’m not stupid I know that.”

“Look of you want I’ll see where uces heads at if he likes you too, then you can ask him.”

“No, cause then if he does I don’t wanna be clueless.”

“ like he’d care like that Snick you got as hell besides I think he’s a virgin too.”

“Joe”

“I’m just making sure, like this is a big step.”

“I’m a big girl.”.Joe gently touched my face lowering his lips to mine as he kissed me. It felt good but also felt weird. Slowly I got into it and we ended up on his bed. I moaned when he kissed around on my neck and he pulled back

“You ok?”

“Um yeah that, that felt good.” He nodded doing it again. We made out a while his hand sliding up my shirt. We slowly undressed as Joe would ask if I was ok or sure.

“Natasha.” I looked at him as he looked down my eyes following his before looking at him. Joe was handsome as hell they all were. “You sure about this?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me if I hurt you.” He kissed me slowly moving as I gasped it felt weird and kinda hurt but also felt good. “You good?” I nodded as he slid all the way as I winced in discomfort. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re good, move.” I replied touching his face.

Most girls I’d heard those first time wasn’t the best and it hurt and while yeah it hurt a little when Joe first started it wasn’t bad. It was different.”

“Wow.”

“What?” I asked.

“You, that,.”

“Joe.”

“What Snickers, ya can’t get shy now not after that.”

“I’m not your just funny.”

“You sure your ok?”

“Yeah Joe you didn’t really hurt me, I mean you got a big dick at least I’m assuming and it hurt a few seconds when you first started but no you didn’t hurt me.”

“Get up I need to change the sheets.”

“Um ok.”

“Snickers you bled a little that’s why I was so scared I hurt you.”

“Joe.” I said touching his face. “You didn’t hurt me, I don’t think you ever will Your my best friend and thank you.”

“Always, I always got you Snickers. One day we’ll make sure you never want for nothin.”

“I know you guys say that all the time.”

“Because it’s true we don’t care where you go what you do who you end up with we got you.”

“I know bear I love you guys too.”

“By the way you really are perfect.”

“Joe.”

“You are,”

JON POV

I looked at my twin like he was crazy, I kno he ain’t really just say that. No Fuckin way

“Snickers?” I asked as he nodded “Snickers our snickers? Natasha? Natasha Aiyana Smith?”

“Yes Jon, damn! Who the hell else you think I’d be talkin bout.”

“Not Natasha not our Snickers that’s for sure.” I replied. I was shocked he liked her like for real for real. “You do know Joe hooked up with her right uce?” He immediately got pissed. Face red and all but as my brother my twin I couldn’t not tell him.

“I hooked up with who?” Joe asked coming in with his bag, staying with us and thank god Snickers wasn’t with him.

“What!?” Josh said glaring out our cousin, and tossing his water. “Always.”

“Dang what I do?” He asked

“You hooked up with Natasha!”

“Um yeah like 6 months ago, she wanted me to take her virginity wanted it to be someone special that she trusted and said those options were me or one of you two.”

“Well uce, uce likes her?”

“What?” Joe asked looking at my twin who was pissed. “Since when?”

“For a while, damn why ain’t she come to me?”

“Because y’all joke too much and she quote loves Jon but ain’t trying to hear his mouth cause he’d never shut up and she didn’t wanna ask you cause she has a Fuckin crush on you and ain’t wanna be weird. Besides she’s known me longer and better she’s legit next door.”

“So y’all like dating?”

“No.” He laughed “that’s like my fucking sister.” He looked at Josh before speaking “why ain’t you say anything no one had a clue and I know she don’t. Otherwise I know she’s had asked you shit I even tried talk her into tellin you.”

“I ain’t think she’d like me like that shit uce we grew up together and now I can’t.”

“Why? She thinks we cute you know that so she probably do like you.”

“Well she ain’t gonna do anything now if she did you done hooked up with her.”

“So what we ain’t dating it didn’t work we work better as friends.if you had said something you’d have taken her virginity dumbass cause when she came to me I found out she likes you that’s why she wouldn’t ask you, she didn’t want you saying no and it being weird and she ain’t wanna catch feelings.”

“But you know Tash man hell people been sayin she fucking all us what she gonna hook up with me and then really feel that way uce. You know her she ain’t about to be what everyone says. Snickers ain’t-“

“Tell her or I will.” Joe said.

“Why she-“

“Do it Josh, trust me. She been feelin you uce.”

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