#i have no idea what her sister looks like but like...if she has the same hair and the like

[dragon-kazansky]

Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Season one

Chapter Nine - Late night scandals

♡♡♡

"What do you think Bridgerton?"

Benedict turns around to find the artist he had accidentally offended at the gallery the other night.

"This one more to your liking?"

"Mr. Granville--" Benedict raises from his chair to approach the man.

"Perhaps they should take it over to Somerset House so it can be skyed right next to mine."

"I believe I owe you an apology, sir." Benedict says, feeling rather embarrassed.

"Unnecessary. I actually quite enjoy the eloquent stings of your critique. So?" He gestures back to the painting on the wall.

"A touch morose for my tastes," Benedict says.

Henry points to the next one.

"A tragedy. The hound deserved better," Benedict comments.

Granville laughs. "Where is yours?"

"My..."

"Your work," Granville clarifies. "Are you tell me you're not an artist yourself?"

"Well, I-- I suppose sometimes I like to... Well, I mean, I almost--"

"I believe 'yes' and 'thank you' are the words you seek. But either way, you should come by my studio." Mr Granville holds out a small card to Benedict, who accepts it. "The pieces I do for myself are there, and I think you will find my real work far less, um... Oh, how did you put it? 'Cold and lacking inner life?'"

Benedict scrunched up his face as he nodded, still burning with embarrassment. "I shall never live that down, shall I?"

Mr Granville leaves.

Benedict returns to his table where he had been absentmindedly doodling. Eyes. He was sketching out a pair of eyes. Pretty ones. From memory.

He sighs and closes the sketchbook.

♡♡♡

As you sit in the drawing room of the Bridgerton house, as invited by Violet, you discover that she had no idea about the boxing match, or that Daphne had been there.

You keep your eyes focused on the latest Whistledown paper, though you had stopped reading it.

Daphne was playing the piano while her mother interrogated her.

"A boxing match is no place for any young lady." Violet sighs.

"Is it a place for a prince? Was he at today's match, sister?" Hyacinth asks.

"He certainly was."

"It is a loathsome and barbarous form of entertainment," Violet was very displeased.

That was when Daphne took the opportunity to mention you had gone as well, which had Violet looking at you.

"You too?"

You glare softly at Daphne, who gives you a smug little look. Crafty one, she is.

"Anthony invited me," you admit.

Violet looked terribly ill all of a sudden. You were sure she would being this up with her eldest son at some point.

"What about the duke?" Hyacinth asks.

"What about the duke?" Both Violet and Daphne ask at the same time. You eye Daphne curiously from your seat.

"Was he also present?" Hyacinth asked, less enthusiastic now.

"I do not know," Daphne says. "If the duke was there, I did not see him."

Hyacinth leaves the piano to go see what Eloise is up to. She had been scribbling away in her book since you arrived.

You put the Whistledown column down and rose from your seat to seek entertainment near the window. Watching the street was surely more entertainment than listening in on that conversation.

Anthony enters the room and greets both his mother and his sister. You turn and he greets you too.

"Did you truly take your sister to a boxing match?" Violet hounds him.

"Your admonishment will have to wait. I have news," he cuts her lecture short. "Prince Friedrich has asked for my permission to propose." He looks at Daphne.

She stops playing. "So soon?"

"Well, what did you tell him?" Violet asks.

"That I know better than to answer for my sister. I have no objections to the man. People speak well of him. Whatever you decide, Daph, you shall have my support."

You look at Daphne quietly.

"I... uh... I..." She doesn't know what to say.

"You need not decide now," Violet tells her. "You certainly have no known him long."

"Let me know when you have an answer, and I shall convey it." Anthony says to his sister.

"Indeed." Daphne looks at him.

Anthony leaves as quickly as he came in. It was clear Daphne needed time to think.

♡♡♡

When Daphne had pleaded with you to attend the next ball with her, you couldn't say no. There was a sadness to her gaze, and you wondered from where it had risen.

Something had happened between her and the duke, and she had been off kilter ever since.

The ball, like all had been so far, was wonderful. The theme was a little more out there this time, but everyone was behaving quite perfectly.

You were standing with Daphne as she scanned the crowd. Exactly who she was looking for, you weren't quite certain. You would suggest the prince on the account that the duke was apparently leaving London tonight.

The prince could be seen across the room. He was in conversation with someone. You glance toward Daphne, but your gaze shifts as Cressida Cowper comes over. You give Daphne a gentle nudge.

"Daphne." Cressida chuckles. "You look beautiful, as always."

"Thank you, Cressida," Daphne says politely.

"You could have chosen anyone," Cressida says. "You have gentlemen lined up to pay you tribute. Yet you did not hesitate to steal my chance for happiness away, did you? I knew the marriage market would make rivals of us, but I never thought youcapable of being my enemy."

"The man made his choice, Cressida. What did you expect me to do?" Daphne asks.

Daphne walks off in the direction of the prince. You look at Cressida and then walk off in the other direction.

There is nothing you could ever say to her.

You begin to walk alongside the dance floor, watching the couples dance. A hand comes into view, and you turn to see a friendly looking young man smiling at you.

"May I have this dance?"

You take a moment to gather yourself. You had hoped one of the Bridgerton boys would be here to dance with you, but you supposed you couldn't rely on them every time.

"You may."

You go with him to dance.

It seemed Benedict wasn't here.

♡♡♡

Benedict was, in fact, making his way to the studio of Mr. Granville. He was intrigued by the artist.

He finds the address and knocks on the door. Henry Granville answers.

"Mr. Bridgerton."

Benedict stands there a little awkwardly.

"Come in, come in."

Granville lets him in. Benedict enters and follows him. He is led further inside and finds himself in a large room. A circle of easels presented around two nude models.

"I do not know what I was expecting, but it surely was not this." Benedict says.

"Oh, simply a gathering of like-minded souls." Henry tells him. "Here, let me show you what I've been working on."

Benedict is led further inside the studio. He passes a couple of painters discussing war so causally.

"What do you think?" Henry asks.

Benedict walks over and takes a look at the canvas.

"Hmm. It's a far cry from Somerset House, I must say."

"I shall take that a compliment."

They both chuckle.

"And I must say, I'm truly jealous. Is this your life?" Benedict asks.

"There are advantages to being the second-born." Henry tells him. "Heirs have the responsibility. Second sons have the fun."

They both chuckle again.

"So... why not go have some fun?" Henry gestures to the models. He's giving Benedict the chance to epress himself through art.

Benedict picks an easel and sits down.

♡♡♡

As you dance once again tonight, you spot Anthony standing off to the side. He's staring at the opera singer.

You hard heard whispers about him being infatuated with an opera singer, but had no idea if there lay any truth to them.

You continue dancing with your partner.

Benedict was still a no-show tonight, which you found to be rather disappointing. You had been looking forward to another evening of his little quips and teasing.

When the dance ends, you curtsy to your partner and head in the direction of Anthony and Violet. Lady Bridgerton had tries to introduce her son to a rather pretty young lady, but he showed no interest.

"Shall we dance, Lord Bridgerton?" You ask, looking at Anthony.

He turns and looks at you, for half a second, thinking you were another lady his mother was intent on pushing on him.

"Yes, let's." He offers his arm, and you take it. Violet watches you both go. Even if he chose you, she would be pleased, but she knows her son will not take you as his wife. You're his friend who has come to rescue him from her for a while.

Violet downs a third glass of champagne.

"She is persistent," you say.

"Hm?"

"Your mother."

Anthony chuckles softly. "Yes. Quite."

"The opera singer..."

He looks at you.

"Nevermind. Its not my business."

Anthony's expression softens. "I was - am - found of her."

"Yes. I assumed as much."

Anthony sighs. "It's complicated.

You nod and say no more on the matter. Anthony spins you around elegantly.

"Is Benedict not here tonight?" You ask, twirling with him.

"Benedict? No." He gazes at you. "Why do you ask?"

"I just noticed his absence."

"Missing your dance partner?" He teases.

You chuckle. "Am I that obvious?"

He winks at you, and you shake your head with a smile. "I'm fond of you boys. I can't help it when I notice one of you is missing."

Anthony grins. "How lucky we are to have gained such a special friend such as you."

As Anthony gives you another turn around the floor, you spot Colin speaking with Penelope. You smile softly at the sight and then turn your attention back to the eldest brother.

At least you'll have one Bridgerton on your dance card tonight.

As the next dance begins, Anthony keeps your company longer. You're aware this may catch attention from others, especially Lady Whistledown should she be here, but none the less, you dance with him twice.

You soon see that Colin has left Penelope on the sidelines to dance with Miss Thompson, and you also find the prince talking to Daphne amidst their dance.

The dance ends, and you manage to catch sight of Daphne fleeing the ballroom.

Anthony bows, and you curtsy.

"Until next time." He nods his head at you. You smile and nod, taking your leave. You worry about Daphne and intend to go check on her, but you're stopped by another gentleman.

You sigh and realise you'll have to dance with him before you can flee again.

The dance feels like it drags on, and on, and on. You smile, you listen to your partner talk, but your mind is focused on Daphne. She did not look well when she fled.

When the dance ends, you spot Anthony leaving the ballroom. You waste no more time and follow him.

He heads outside. You follow.

"Anthony?"

He turns and looks at you. "Go back inside."

"What's the matter? What's happening?"

"Did you see him?" Anthony asks urgently.

"Who?"

"The duke."

"He is here?"

"He was, and now I can't find Daphne." You realise he's concerned about his sister.

You hear something further in the garden, and Anthony hurries off. You follow him, close on his heels.

What you find is not what you ever expected to see.

Simon and Daphne were not just kissing. His hands were all over her. Her dress had been pulled down. You cover your mouth, though you can not hide the gasp that escapes you.

Anthony runs at Simon.

"Bastard!"

Simon receives a strong punch to the face. He falls to the ground, and Anthony takes another swing. He punches him a third time and then stands beside his sister. You hurry to her other side and checks her over.

"Daphne..."

She is speechless. She has no words for you. They have been caught in a compromising position.

"You will marry her," Anthony declares.

"What?" Daphne looks at her brother.

"Immediately. We can only hope no one saw you take such liberties, and my sister is saved further mortification. You will marry her!"

Anthony is angry.

"Brother!"

"I cannot marry her," Simon says.

"You have defiled her innocence, and now you refuse her hand? I knew you were a rake, Hastings, I never thought you a villain."

"I cannot marry her," Simon states more firmly.

Daphne looks hurt.

"Then you leave me no choice. I must demand satisfaction."

"A duel? Anthony, you cannot--" Daphne begins.

"He dishonours you, sister." Anthony looks at her. "He dishonours you and me and the very Bridgerton name. I have misjudged you, indeed. You have duped us both, but I shall not see my sister pay for my own misdeeds. We will settle this as gentlemen."

"I understand," Simon agrees. "I shall see you at dawn."

"I do not understand," Daphne says softly. "You would rather die than marry me?"

You look at Simon quietly.

"I am truly sorry."

"We need to go, Daph. Before anyone should see us." Anthony says softly.

You reach out for her arm gently and pull her away, Anthony follows you both.

Daphne takes her brother's arm after he begs of you not to say a word about anything. You swear by it, looking him in the eye. Anthony thanks you.

You drift off from them as you enter the ballroom once again.

Anthony approaches Colin and tells him he is taking her home. He asks Colin to take care of their mother. You decide to step in and help. Anthony looks grateful.

Anthony and Daphne leave.

Colin looks at you, but you just smile softly at him and ask him to help you with Violet. He doesn't say anything about Daphne or Anthony.

Neither do you.

♡♡♡

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#Bridgerton shade of blue #benedict bridgerton x reader #Bridgerton #female reader #dragon writes

[thiswaytwoinfinity]

it’s a bad idea, right? - part 1: can’t two people reconnect

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x reader • inspired by sleeping with other people

Warnings: no use of y/n or physical description of reader except they have hair that can be tucked behind their ears, implied smut, this chapter is fine but future installments will be 18+

It’s finally here! Thank you to everyone for being so supportive and patient about this fic; I was dealing with some rough personal stuff and lost all my inspiration but it’s back now and I’m happy to be writing about everyone’s favorite cocky flyboy.

There’s something about a sticky summer night when you’re 22 that makes you feel more alive than you’ve ever been.

It’s the third bar that your new roommates have dragged you to tonight, there’s a cocktail sweating in your hand and the bass from the stereo thudding through your head. You’re not sure if the grin on your face is from the watching all of the wannabe cowboys go flying off the mechanical bull in mere milliseconds or from the possibilities of newfound adulthood laid out in front of you. In this moment, it’s hard to imagine that you were ever scared about moving halfway across the country — away from your family, your hometown and your high school sweetheart who always thought you’d move home after college — to Austin.

In this moment, you feel free. You feel invincible. You feel like this is a night you’ll remember for the rest of your life.

 

“Okay, the bar is a madhouse but I managed to get another round!” Anna shouts as she makes her way back to the table, tossing her long dark hair behind her before plopping the tray of shots down in front of you and your new friends. “And there’s a new rule!”

Everyone groans in unison; Anna loves to make up drinking games, handing out shots and beers with a new rule or bet that is guaranteed to leave someone embarrassed before the night’s over.

“Oh, stop. Shit like this is how we become lifelong best friends, trust me, I read about it online,” she fires back, rolling her eyes and handing shots to you and the three other girls at the table before taking one in hand. “It’s simple. Last one to finish their shot has to ride the mechanical bull.”

“Bitch, are you trying to kill us?” Erin asks, shooting a sideways glance at Katie, who’s eyeing up her shot glass like she’s trying to strategize the best way to drink it. The two of them are sisters — “Irish twins, it’s a whole thing,” Erin explained when you first moved in — are hyper-competitive and curse like sailors. You loved them instantly.

Your tiny hope of not being the one to end up on the bull dies when you look over at Taylor, who managed to throw back her tequila when nobody was watching. “What?!” she asks, curls bobbing in the bun on top of her head as she takes in everyone’s looks of confusion and frustration. “Anna never said we had to start at the same time.”

It’s like a starting pistol went off at the end of her sentence because before you know it, Erin and Katie are both biting into limes while Anna is swallowing down the liquor with a grimace. Shit.

You do your best to catch up but it’s too late. You, the girl who grew up nowhere near Texas and have never actually seen a bull in real life, are going to have to ride one in front of this entire bar.

Years later you won’t remember the details of the bet, how your friends whooped and hollered as you made your way over to the bull with shaky knees or how the operator took pity on you when you immediately slid off and offered you a second try. The song that was playing is lost to time, as is the actual feeling of riding the bull for a whole half second.

What you will remember, though, is sliding across the tarp to rest right by a group of athletic looking guys and the strong, tan hand that reached down to help you stand up.

You’ll remember the backwards Longhorns cap on his head, the way his green eyes flashed with amusement and the blinding white of his smile as he helped you to your feet, hand lingering just a moment too long in yours. You’ll remember the way it felt like someone had set off fireworks inside of you, fingers tingling where they touched his skin and your stomach swooping like you were on a roller coaster.

You’ll remember exactly what he said to you: “Well, that was definitely the most entertaining attempt of the night.”

You giggled, a little dazed by his chiseled features, by the way he seemed to only see you in that moment, by the force of his charisma.

 “I’m Jake. What’s your name, beautiful?”

 

For a Thursday night, the Hard Deck was surprisingly packed.

The Daggers had managed to claim their usual spot by the pool table, but despite their cramped quarters they practically had to shout over the sounds of drunken sailors and the oldies blasting out of the jukebox to be heard. The table next to Bob was crowded with beer bottles, the bespectacled WSO having waved off Penny when she stopped by to clear them, promising the group would clean up after themselves. Natasha and Bradley were in the middle of some kind of dumb darts competition, being heckled by Bob and a tipsy Rueben, who had his arm slung around the former’s shoulders for balance.

Jake took in the scenery, smug grin on his face, before sinking his final pool ball with a flourish.

“And that’s game, gentlemen,” he said, turning to Javy and Mickey, who were shaking their heads with frustration.

“Can’t believe I let you talk me into betting against him,” Mickey sighed, shuffling through his wallet for a $20 bill. Javy just shrugged and threw a playful punch against his friend’s shoulder, before asking for a rematch.

“Let that be a lesson, Fanboy,” Jake chuckled, making a big show of examining the bill before pocketing it. “Never bet against Jake Seresin. They call me a golden boy for a reason.”

“Who’s ‘they?’ Everyone we know just calls you a dick,” Nat called out, making her way back to the table for her drink. Taking a look at the chaos on the table, she rolled her eyes before starting to gather up a handful of empty bottles. “C’mon, Fanboy. Help me clear some of these and I’ll buy you a beer to drown your sorrows in.”

He ran over to help, allowing Javy to slide over to Jake and elbow his buddy in the side.

“10 o’clock, there’s a whole table of pretty ladies. The blonde’s had her eye on you all night and her friend with the locs is crazy hot,” he murmured, as Jake took a subtle look over at the table in question. 5 or 6 women were crammed into a booth, and judging by the tiara on one of their heads, they were out celebrating a birthday. “Wingman?” the younger aviator asked, holding out his fist for Jake to bump it.

For a half second, he contemplated turning his best friend down.

It wasn’t like Jake wasn’t attracted to the blonde, who was, indeed making eyes at him from across the room. She was exactly his type, all bright smiles and smokey bedroom eyes, her curves and long legs poured into tight jeans. She had an air of confidence that made it clear she knew just how hot she was.

He knew that if he strolled over and gave her his best All-American smile and some of that Southern charm, he could probably win her over. They’d flirt and dance a bit and then he’d drive them back to one of their places, have some decent-to-excellent sex and he’d be asleep shortly after midnight.

It seemed fun. It seemed obvious. It seemed, quite honestly, a little boring to him.

Maybe it was because he turned 35 a few months ago and the idea of going home to his own bed after a night out was starting to seem more and more appealing to him. Maybe it was because he spent so much time trying to convince his fellow Daggers that he wasn’t a complete asshole that he didn’t want to risk them changing their minds again.

Or maybe he was just a little jealous.

Jake would see the way Rueben’s face lit up when he talked about his wife, how he would brag about every milestone his 3-year-old daughter was reaching. He felt awkward about his lack of wedding knowledge when a pink-eared Bob would ask the squad for their opinion on something for his upcoming nuptials. He’d try to ignore the weird sinking feeling in his stomach when he’d overhead Nat and Mickey picking out a restaurant for their weekly brunch double date with their respective girlfriends.

And despite the fact that he had spent most of his adult life doing whatever he could to avoid those kinds of situations, now he was starting to wonder if maybe … maybe he’d be a little happier if he had been able to settle down with someone of his own.

Oof. That thought made Jake’s chest tighten uncomfortably. So he pushed it down, smiled as wide as he could and first bumped Javy. “Wingmen for life, Coyote. Lead the way.”

 

If you had to spend one more minute squeezed up against this bar, wedged between a couple aggressively making out and a trio of rowdy Navy men who were trying to sing along to Queen, you were going to scream.

“Just come for a drink or two. This place is super chill for a Navy bar, I promise,” you muttered darkly under your breath, repeating the words your friend and new coworker had used to convince you to come out tonight.

Between a frantic weekend spent unpacking all of your belongings into your new studio apartment and a very long first week at your new job, all you had wanted to do was bury yourself under a blanket and watch Real Housewives until your brain melted out of your ears.

But you were trying to be more social. You wanted to focus more on your friendships. Do things that were good for you. That was the whole point of this move.

So instead, you were leaning so far over the bar top that you could feel the edge digging into your ribs, shouting a drink order at the (admittedly, very sweet and slightly overwhelmed) bartender. She had just placed the two beers and margarita you had asked for down in front of you when another hand appeared and tried to snatch them up.

“Hey!” you yelled, tossing the bills in your hand onto the bar as you reached up to catch the offender by the wrist before they made off with your hard-won drinks. “Asshole! Drop them, those are my beers! What the fuck?”

You swiped up the cocktail with your free hand, lest it meet the same fate and turned around to see what kind of absolute monster thought they had the right to steal drinks.

Annoyingly, he was beautiful.

Tall and broad, with sun-kissed skin and a blindingly-white smile, which held a hint of sheepishness as he realized that he had been caught red handed. There was something familiar about the way he ducked his head a little, before peering at you from beneath his eyelashes.

“Sorry about that, ma’am. I thought those were mine. Didn’t mean to steal from you,” his low, twangy drawl went right through you, settling warm and comfortingly in your stomach. “I’d offer to buy you a drink to make it up to you, but, well …”

Texas. That’s where that accent is from, you thought, instantly being transported back to your nursing school program in Austin. How many wannabe cowboys had spoken with that same drawl, trying to charm you and your friends during a night out? Not too many of them had succeeded with you, especially not after —

“Jake? Jake Seresin!?”

It had to be him. You’d know that smile anywhere, had seen those green eyes in your dreams for far too long after you both had moved on. He was bigger now, muscles more pronounced and jaw more defined, more of those cheeky smile lines creasing around his eyes. His voice was deeper too, some of his accent smoothed out after years in the military, but it had to be.

He swore under his breath, eyes widening as he made the connection as well. He practically whispered your name, as if it felt a bit rusty on his tongue, but the second you nodded, he repeated it louder, warmer, like he was slipping back into his favorite jacket.

“Shit, how long’s it been?” Jake wondered aloud, looking you up and down as if to make a note of every infinitesimal change that had occurred since you last saw each other. “You look amazing, darling. Beautiful as ever.”

You rolled your eyes but felt your cheeks heating up at his compliment. Jake always had a way of making you feel like the most special person in the room — but then again, he made everyone feel that way, as you later found out. “You look good too, Seresin. Like a proper, respectable Navy man,” you concede, though the words don’t sound nearly as begrudging as you hoped.

You’re rewarded with one of those thousand-watt grins and for a second, you’re back in a Texas dive bar, flirting with the most handsome man you’ve ever seen to the tune of some cheesy country-rap remix.

“I am good,” Jake promises, eyes locked on yours, and you think he might be back there with you, leaning up against the jukebox, the floors sticky under your feet. “I don’t know how respectable I am, but I am definitely good.”

His voice drags out that sentence, low and flirtatious, and butterflies fill your stomach the same way they did all those years ago. You can practically feel the ghost of his big hands on your hips, your lower back, caressing your cheek as the world disappeared around you that night, just the two of you creating your own little world in the corner of that dingy bar. Your lips part — to say what, exactly, you’re not sure — and you see his eyes drop to them for just a moment before —

The woman behind the bar calls out “Hangman!” with a tone of voice that makes it clear that it’s not the first time she’s said it and you both startle and turn to see her holding four bottles of beer out towards Jake, a look of exhaustion on her face. He jumps forward to take them, apologies pouring from his lips and he pointedly shoves several bills into the tip jar in order to earn an eye roll and a small smile from her. Two sweating bottles in each hand, he turns back to you and almost seems a bit relieved that you’re still standing there. (As if you’ve ever been able to walk away from him.)

“I have to drop these off with my friends,” Jake says, nodding to a table somewhere behind you, “And you should probably get those drinks to the people who sent you over here. But do — do you wanna catch up? There’s a deck out back with some tables, it’s usually pretty quiet this time of night.” He waits for you to nod, before pressing a quick kiss to your cheekbone. “I’ll meet you in five minutes.”

With one more charming smile, he’s off into the crowd and — not for the first time in your life — you’re left speechless and a little stunned, staring after Jake Seresin.

 

You’re not sure if the goosebumps on your arms are from the chill of the California evening or the way that Jake hasn’t stopped staring at you since he joined you outside on the deck. You shift slightly against the wooden bench of the picnic table, overwhelmed by the intensity of having all of the blonde’s attention on you again for the first time in a decade.

“So …” you begin, and your voice seems to startle Jake out of his thoughts slightly. “You’re a California boy now? I never thought you’d ever leave Texas.”

He grins and shakes his head slightly. “Well, when Top Gun calls and offers you a permanent station, you’d be a fool not to accept. And not to brag, but they do only offer that to the best of the best.”

“Please, Seresin. You love to brag,” you fire back, watching those green eyes sparkle with mischief.

“Well, it’s not bragging if it’s the truth. And the truth is, darling, that I am one hell of a pilot.” Jake takes a swig from his beer, before leaning a bit closer into you, like he wants to study your reactions. “What about you? What brings you out to sunny San Diego?”

“New job,” you say shortly, shrugging your shoulders as nonchalantly as possible. “Moved from the ICU to the ED, so I figured a change of location would go well with a change of pace.”

Your smile doesn’t quite meet your eyes and you hope he can’t tell. There’s no reason to tell your ex — boyfriend? Fling? — whatever that you followed a guy out here, especially since that whole — relationship? Affair? Complete and utter heartbreaking disaster? — situation crashed and burned almost immediately.

“Mmhmm,” Jake says, as if he can tell that��s not the whole story, and he takes another sip before seemingly deciding to let you off the hook. “And what did you boyfriend have to say about moving halfway across the country? Or did someone manage to finally lock you down after all these years?”

There’s a small, sinking feeling in your stomach as you think about the real reason you moved here for a brief, heartbreaking second.

“No boyfriend. No husband, either,” you say, wiggling your left hand at him in order to illustrate your point, and clock the way his eyes almost look relieved by the sight of your empty finger. “What about you, Seresin? Where’s your sweet, Southern wife?”

He laughs, a little cocky but a little hollow at the same time. “You know I don’t really do commitment, darlin’,” he jokes and, boy, do you, nights of watching him flirt with other girls while you pouted in the corner of the bar flashing in your brain. You take a long swallow of your beer — just like you used to swallow down your pride back then — and roll your eyes at him.

“I swear, you look exactly the same when you roll your eyes like that,” Jake says, his smile softening around the edges. “Nobody ever managed to make it quite as cutting as you.”

“Nobody’s ever been quite as annoying as you,” you fire back, but there’s no real heat behind it. Jake’s eye light up like you just gave him a compliment rather than pointing out that he knew exactly how to press your buttons when you were younger.

“I seem to remember you used to like it when I was able to make your eyes roll. Or, at least, when I could make them roll back into your head …”

You sigh, doing your best not to let on how much that comment made your face heat with decade-old memories of you two tangled up in your sheets. “There it is …” you begin, but he just leans into you a little more, those green eyes traveling all over your face as he speaks.

“I’m just reminiscing, that’s all. Can ya blame me? You’re still so beautiful …” Jake responds, one hand reaching out to gently tuck some of your hair behind your ear. His fingers brush against your cheek as he pulls away and you hope you can explain away the goosebumps that erupt on your skin as a product of the ocean breeze. “And I spent a lot of time trying to get you all worked up back then. Force of habit.”

You could give into it.

Allow the sheer force of Jake’s charisma and good looks to carry you away on a wave of old memories. The chemistry that always fizzled between you is clearly still there, the butterflies that have laid dormant in your stomach all this time just waiting for an excuse to be let free once again. It would be easy.

And it would be good — you two had always been good at the physical stuff. He was so gorgeous in so many ways and surprisingly generous when you were in bed. (Jake always took pride in being the best of the best, after all).

But once you woke up tomorrow morning, after all of the awkward goodbyes and the promises to call, then what? Jake Seresin doesn’t commit; he made that clear.

And you were still bruised from your last mess of a relationship, your heart feeling tender and aching in your chest most days. There’s no way that this doesn’t end the same way it did a decade ago, with you sobbing uncontrollably and Jake moving on to the next beautiful girl who manages to hold his attention.

So, with a self-control you didn’t even know you possessed, you pull yourself out of Jake’s undertow.

“Seresin, I … that’s probably a bad idea,” you say softly, eyes dropping down to the tabletop in between you. “I just got out of a relationship and I’m not in a place —”

He cuts you off by tilting your chin up to look at him and then making a point to pull his hands back and keep them to himself.

“Hey, hey, I get it. No worries. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything, darlin’” Jake explains in a rush. “I’m sorry about that. Like I said, force of habit.”

You huff out a laugh and another eye roll and you can see him fight a grin at your reaction. “Only you would describe flirting with someone as a habit, Jake.”

“Well, I’m one of a kind.”

“Shut up, Seresin,” you giggle, glad to be back on solid, friendly ground with him.

 Two hours later, Jake sent you off with a hug and his phone number as you and your friend climbed into an Uber and set off for home. She had a few questions about the “dreamboat” of a Naval aviator that you had apparently dated back in school, but was a little too excited about recounting her own evening to push you for details. It wasn’t until you arrived back at your apartment and collapsed on your couch that you realized Jake had been texting you the whole time you were in the car.

Unknown: It’s Jake 🫡😜🤠⭐️🍻🏈😉

Unknown: Hope you get home safe, beautiful. It was great to catch up with you.

Unknown: And I would be an embarrassment to the U.S. Navy if I didn’t at least offer to be your tour guide around San Diego

Unknown: I know all the best spots after all

Unknown: So text me if you want to grab lunch or something

Unknown: Or if you finally want to learn how to surf

Unknown: But give me fair warning beforehand, I remember how bad your balance is lol

 

You: lol I forgot you text every single thought in your brain

You: but having a tour guide sounds nice

You: we could get brunch this weekend and you can give me the highlights?

 

You had only just begun to take your shoes off, resigned to finally get off the couch, when your phone pinged.

 

Jake 🤠 🧡: I know just the place

You gave his text a quick thumbs up and got ready for bed smiling the whole time.

-—-—-—-—-—

Comments and reblogs are always appreciated! I don’t know if I’m going to have a regular schedule with this or anything, but I will do my best! Thank you for reading about the absolute menace that is Jake Seresin

Tagging some people who asked:

@tvshowgirl81 @redbarn1995 @stoneyggirl @keepingitlokiii @averyhotchner @dizzybee03 @olliepig @lynnevanss @djs8891 @mamachasesmayhem @mamaskillerqueen @kmc1989 @hookslove1592

#top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun hangman #top gun maverick #jake hangman fic #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fic #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman x reader #hangman x reader #my fic #jake hangman x you #fic: it's a bad idea right?

[itsaspectrumcomic]

As a writer, what are some elements that you would want to see included in a romance between a female autistic character and a male character (who grew up with a sister who is autistic? This is also a bit of a forbidden romance and I’m trying to plan this out well to be very respectful and good representation of the autistic community (idk if that’s the write phrasing so forgive me if I’m saying it wrong). I’ve already started research, but I just need maybe a few ideas/suggestions. thanks!!!

Firstly, remember that no autistic person is the same so his sister being autistic doesn't mean he'll know everything about it or what it's like to be autistic. It would be nice to see some representation of how different autistic people can be by showing differing traits in his sister and the female love interest - eg, differences in masking, different sensory issues, different ways they stim, different ways of enjoying special interests etc.

You could show her struggling with aspects of dating culture (going out to bars which are loud and overstimulating? No thanks) and taking things literally (eg, being asked if she wants to go for coffee and saying no because she doesn't like coffee when the guy is actually trying to ask her on a date.)

Show that she is liked for her autistic traits, not despite them. Maybe he likes that she's very honest, or enjoys listening to her talk about her special interests. Let her be a fully 3-dimensional character wither her own likes, dislikes, goals and interests, and try not to fall into stereotypes.

Definitely don't treat it as if he's some kind of hero for dating an autistic person or for 'dealing' with her autistic traits! Like with any disability, that would be very disrespectful. Also I hope the forbidden romance aspect isn't because she's autistic? I'd need to know more context to know how I feel about that.

If you're not autistic yourself, please do get a sensitivity reader who is, whether that's a friend or a professional.

Speaking of good autistic representation - have you seen the show Dinosaur that came out recently? It's about an autistic woman and her relationship with her sister who's getting married, and it has a storyline where she starts dating the guy at her coffee shop. I love how she was portrayed (she stims with her hands in exactly the way I do!) and it's very funny and warmhearted, plus the lead actress is autistic herself, so if you're looking for inspiration definitely check it out. It's on Hulu and BBC iPlayer :)

#autistic #autistic characters #writing advice #actually autistic #dinosaur #its a spectrum #ask #anon ask #advice

[recurring-polynya]

hello, congrats on one mil!! you mentioned (very) off handedly in the tags a long time ago that an au where renji was byakuya's sibling would be difficult because renji would want hugs and Kuchiki Do Not Hug. ever since ive been wondering: what exactly would it take for byakuya to give renji a hug? this is my prompt to you. any and all external influences are permissible but it has to be a real, proper hug. no side hugs allowed. bonus (infinite) points for rukia being somewhere in the mix.

I thought about this for 20 minutes and then just yes, and...'d my way through the rest of this. It was very fun! Hopefully someone else finds this half as funny as I did.

| read on ao3 | request guidelines |

❄️ ☃️ ❄️

"Hitsugaya here."

"Hello, Captain Hitsugaya, it is Captain Kuchiki."

"..."

"I am calling from Lieutenant Abarai's phone."

"Of course you are. What's up?"

"I have a question. What is the standard treatment for hypothermia?"

"...why are you asking?"

"When a person dives into very cold water, say, if they were chasing a semi-aquatic Hollow into a lake and the air temperature is below--"

"Kuchiki, how do you have Abarai's phone if he just jumped into a lake after a semi-aquatic Hollow?"

"Because he threw it at me and yelled 'call Rukia and ask her how to treat hypothermia, I'm sure she knows.'"

"But you didn't call Rukia."

"I did not. I would prefer if she did not find out that I let Abarai jump into a frozen lake. I did not mean to. He is very quick and also a bad listener. Hmm. The water is turning very red. Hollows do not usually have red blood. It would probably be a bad idea to jump in after him, don't you think? Then, we would both have hypothermia."

"Where are the two of you?"

"The thirty-first district of North Rukongai."

"Okay, that's too far away. (yes, it's your brother. no, everything is not fine. no, i think it's better if you let me talk to him.)"

"Is my sister there?"

"Yes, your sister is here."

"What are you doing with my sister, Hitsugaya Toushirou? She already has an official, family-approved suitor!"

"Does she, Kuchiki? Or does she have an official, family-approved popsicle? (no! no, stop grabbing! Matsumoto, some help please!)"

"Forget what I said earlier, he is coming out of the lake now. (Abarai! What is the limb situation? Ah, excellent, well done!) He even has all of his limbs. He does look rather pale and is shaking a lot, so perhaps we should get back to the hypothermia question."

"To be honest, I don't know that much about it. Usually I'm trying to freeze people to death. I only know what they teach in the decadal first aid refresher. Maybe you shouldn't have done that sleeping-with-your-eyes-open thing the last time we had--"

"Captain Hitsugaya, perhaps we could save the recriminations for later. Abarai is dying."

"Fine. I'm giving the phone to Rukia, who is here to work on her bankai, the same as every Tuesday afternoon. Kuchiki, tell your brother how to fix the hypothermia he gave your boyfriend."

"Brother!"

"Hello, Rukia! I would like to clarify, I did not 'give' Abarai hypothermia. He is very difficult to--"

"Stop talking, I know how he is. I am not holding you responsible. I only heard half the conversation, is he wet?"

"He dove into a lake, so yes."

"Okay, your first priority should be to dry him off."

"(Abarai, Rukia says you need to dry off. Yes, I know I have told you not to do that. Go ahead and do it. Just try not to get me--ugh! I told you not to--!")

"Is he trying to dry off by shaking himself like a dog? Don't let him do that!"

"It is surprisingly effective."

"It could also cause him to go into cardiac arrest so please don't let him do that!"

"(Abarai, Rukia says your heart will stop working if you do that. Yes, it sounds fake to me, too. I am just the messenger.)"

"I would hang up on you, except that then Renji would definitely die. Look, is there shelter nearby? Somewhere you can get him inside?"

"No. Can I just pick him up and flash step him back to town?"

"No, that would also cause his heart to stop. (Captain Hitsugaya, can we send a message down to-- oh, you already have? Oh, great, thank you!) Captain Hitsugaya has already called the Fourth. They're sending a medic to you, but it'll probably be at least an hour. In the meantime, you need get him dry and start to warm him up. Do you have any spare clothes?"

"Why would we have spare clothes?"

"I don't know! Sometimes people carry spare capes! They come in handy! Can you give him your haori?"

"Of course not, he hasn't passed the Captains' Examination."

"Okay, well, make him take his wet clothes off, and you figure out which parts of your outfit you can spare. Don't tell me. I don't want to know."

"Oh, I see. Hmm. Wait, Rukia. Before I disrobe, I read a book once, where someone was in a cold climate and they were freezing to death, and they killed a bear--"

"Do not put Renji inside the dead Hollow, Byakuya. I mean it."

"Hollows disintegrate when they die, Rukia, and even if they didn't, he left it at the bottom of the lake. (You did kill it, right? All right, good.) Ahem. I was just thinking that I could find a bear--"

"You do not have time to find and kill a bear, Brother."

"Hmm. Very well. (Abarai, take off your pants. Rukia says so.)"

(various mumbling and other noises)

"All right. I have returned. Abarai is wrapped up in both our cloaks."

"Wait, you had a cloak this whole time?"

"Of course I had a cloak. We went to the mountains of North Rukongai. Of course we dressed appropriately. Abarai even had the presence of mind to remove his before jumping in the lake. (Yes, I know it was so you could swim better. Do you wish to take this phone call?)"

"You could have--you know what? Never mind. Okay, do you have any field rations with you? Getting some warm food or liquid in him would be very helpful. Even if you can just warm some water with kidou and give it to him, that would be good."

"We did not bring any provisions. We were only supposed to come out here for an afternoon and we did not expect to have to leave town. (No, Abarai, I do not think you should drink that lake water. Well, a Hollow died in it, for one thing.)"

"Brother, do me a favor. Go touch his skin and tell me what it feels like."

"His skin?"

"Yes, I want to know if it's cold."

"Does it matter where?"

"Not really, I guess."

"(Abarai, stick your arm out of the cloak. Look, this is very unpleasant for both of us!) I am touching his arm. I would say it is approximately 30C."

"How can you-- never mind. I don't want to know. Is he shivering? Are his teeth chattering?"

"Less so than before, on both counts. That is good, right? That means he is warming up?"

"No, it means his body is shutting down. Is he still talking to you? Is he lucid?"

"He is still talking, a thing that I assume he would keep doing even after all other vital signs have ceased. I will check the state of his reason. (Abarai, who was the captain of Sixth Squadron during the Hellish Dangai Incursion of 892? No, it's not a trick question. All right, it's a little bit of a trick question…That's a really questionable interpretation of events, Abarai. No, I do not think there are any historians that would agree with you.) Rukia, I will be honest. He is not at his best."

"If he's talking and making sense, that's…something at least. But he's not in good shape and you've got to do something to help him warm up until the medic gets there."

"'Sense' is really debatable, Rukia."

"I think you're going to have to do the kaidou, Brother."

"My understanding is that the body temperature stabilization kidou should only be performed in a sheltered location by a trained Squad 4 medic."

"Yeah, that's the clinical one, and you are correct. You need to do the emergency one. It's not as good generally, but it's less tricky. It should help, though! Zabimaru runs hot, so if you can just give them a jumpstart, Renji will probably stabilize by himself."

"(Oh, is that so?) Abarai says you cast this on him 'all the time.' Why didn't you bring this up earlier? And why are you freezing my lieutenant 'all the time'?"

"He likes it. And I assumed you would refuse!"

"Why would I refuse? Which kaidou is it again?"

"Did you really sleep through the decadal first aid refresher? It's number 17!"

"Number 17…that's the one where…oh."

"Can you do it, Brother?"

"..."

"Brother?"

"When you say you do this to him 'all the time', is it because you are truly giving him hypothermia constantly, or is it just a ploy to…you know?"

"..."

"Rukia?"

"Must it be one or the other, Brother?!"

"Well, I was just wondering if the full body contact was truly compulsory, or if maybe I could just…do it from a respectful distance."

"You have to hug him, Brother."

"..."

"It's not so bad, Brother! You nearly cut off an arm and a leg to save me once!"

"...what if I were to sit next to him, so that our sides were touching? I…I could probably even put my arm around him."

"A side-hug is not going to cut it! The whole trick of the thing is getting your saketsu and hakusui close enough to his! You can hug him from behind, if that makes things better."

"I think that might actually be worse, Rukia."

"You're just going to have to hug him normally, then. Renji gives very good hugs! I tell you it won't be so bad! Just do it!"

"I am only doing this for you, Rukia."

"I appreciate it, Brother."

"(All right, Abarai. Brace yourself. As unpleasant as it is, I am going to have to--no, I will not 'bring it in!' Why must you make this worse than it already is?)"

(unintelligible)

"Brother? Brother, are you still there?"

"I am still here. I am doing it. I am hugging him. This is terrible."

"Are you doing the kaidou?"

"...right. The kaidou. I am now doing the kaidou. Ahem."

"Hi, Rukia, can you hear me? He's got the phone kinda close to my face and I can hear you!"

"Renji, is that you?!"

"It's me! He's hugging me, Rukia! This is so weird!"

"We can memory wipe both of you later, probably."

"No, I mean, he's really bad at it! This is the worst hug I have ever gotten!"

"Shut up, Abarai."

"I think you need to relax a little, Captain. Loosen up those arms."

"I do not want pointers, Abarai."

"Well, I'm having--a little trouble--breathing."

"Oh. I see. Yes, sorry."

"Not to interrupt all the fun you two are having, but does it seem to be working?"

"I have no idea. Abarai, is it working?"

"It's pretty different than when you do it, Rukia, but I think it is. Can I have a real hug when I get home?"

"You can have as many hugs as you want when you get home."

"Ahem."

"I am trying to keep him thinking positive, Brother! You can also have as many hugs as you want when you get home! It sounds like you need some practice."

"..."

"Or if you'd rather just have a stiff drink, I'm sure that can also be arranged."

"As you say, Rukia: why not both?"

"Sounds good to me, Brother!"

~end

#byakuya kuchiki #renji abarai #rukia kuchiki #toshiro hitsugaya #1M words request event #my writing #i used to write dialogue-only fanfic all the time when i was a teen and normally i consider it very lazy and try not to do it #but in this particular case i felt like it really added to the bit #anyway big ups to the mayo clinic and webmd pages on hypothermia #couldna done it without you

[quartings]

The original Gravity Falls pitches and pilot just dropped!!

(Link for those who want it)

For those who don't wanna look through all of it, here are some highlights I found!

Interesting changes from the pitch (What Alex Hirsch showed Disney to make them greenlight the show):

Stan’s secret was that he’s secretly protecting the townsfolk from weirdness, nothing to do with Ford. No mention of Ford in the pitch at all. Stan also wanted Dipper and Mabel to be his successors in this version.

Mabel used to be the unhygienic one instead of Dipper.

Wendy was brunette and didn’t work at the Mystery Shack, instead selling veggie juice out of her van.

As such, Soos (Jesús in this version) worked the register in addition to his handyman job in this version. He was a bit less of a hard worker here, watching telenovelas on the job sometimes, but still loves his job and is extremely loyal to Stan.

Robbie was almost exactly the same, parents’ backstory and all, but there’s an interesting note that he occasionally clashed with Gideon in this version (which we never got in the final show)

Speaking of which, Gideon’s last name in this version was Garrymore instead of Gleeful.

Gideon used to personally harass and prank Stan, going out of his way to vandalize Stan’s stuff himself.

Manly Dan was always planned to be Wendy’s dad. In this version, he hates the idea that his hipster daughter prefers conserving the environment instead of chopping down forests (For those who wanted more Wendy episodes, I’m surprised Hirsch didn’t use this as a conflict for one of them- it makes her interesting without costing any of her “coolness”)

Sheriff Blubs was originally Sheriff “Blumps”. Durland has the same name likely because Hirsch said he’s named after a real guy.

With no Ford and no Journal mentioned, episodes were originally very different-

“The President’s Cabinet/Irrational Treasure.” Instead of via the journal, Dipper and Mabel find a record of Quentin Trembley in a box buried in the yard. No Pacifica mentioned here.

“Secret Dungeon” Dipper becomes obsessed with a recalled arcade cabinet. Mabel must try and save him by finding the original high scorer.

“Thtupid Thursday” One of the many ‘Shining Twins’ episode concepts Hirsch wanted to do. Dipper and Mabel learn ‘twin telepathy’ from some creepy twins, and soon regret it.

“Periodic Mabel” Mabel invents her own element for the science fair and Dipper is jealous.

“Only the Clonely/Boyz Crazy” The exact same episode just without Candy and Grenda. Sev’ral Timez is called “ReelBoyzzz” in this version.

“Big Dipper” With surprisingly no tie to Little Dipper, Dipper asks a fortune teller to make him older so he can win Wendy over. But she makes him 22, so he and Mabel have to undo the spell.

“Sweater off Dead” Mabel buys an antique sweater and is possessed by the soul of the granny who last wore it. Stan is terrified by the spirit because she reminds him of his ex-wife Marilyn (Deep Edalyn Clawthorne lore???) so Dipper must “Swexorcize” his sister and save her.

“Teed Off/The Golf War” With no Pacifica, this was originally a Dipper vs Gideon episode- No Lilliputtians, either. Instead, the 13th hole is cursed and traps the cast in a time loop.

Now, changes from the Production Pitch (I’m guessing for when the show was already greenlit and this was a way to brief crew members on what the show would 100% be about)

Stan’s secret (likely the portal) and the journal are now set in stone.

Emphasis on continuity and character development. Nothing gets “reset” by next episode. All plot developments are permanent.

All character names and designs are locked in. Pacifica has now been added, as well as Waddles, Gompers, Lazy Susan, Candy and Grenda, and McGucket (No mention or hint at his past here)

Interesting to note is that there is still zero outright mention of Ford and Bill in this version, even though multiple episodes were seemingly in production at this point.

Manly Dan’s conflict with Wendy from the original pitch is still here. Making it even more mindblowing that we never got it in the show

Blubs and Durland are described as a little more playful instead of mean like in the original pitch.

All episode examples made it into the show with no changes this time. They are Tourist Trapped, Legend of the Gobblewonker, Fight Fighters, Boyz Crazy, and The Land Before Swine.

#gravity falls #gravity falls pitch #q speaks #alex hirsch

[flareboi]

what if purple never calls him dad

#what if the word ‘dad’ is something purple doesn’t like. #what if it carries a bad connotation for them and a bitter reminder for mango. #family doesnt always have to look like one thing yknow? i dont think those two would have a traditional dynamic in that way #maybe purple does consider him their parent. they just dont call him ‘dad’ unless its in third person #and theyre fine with that and so is he #king is his father figure yes but he’s also a mom. a big brother. a sister. their dynamic just isnt captured in purple calling him ‘dad’ #maybe his name is the best way they can say it. the best way they can appreciate him #because for purple a father is someone who hurts you. someone who leaves you #i think ‘purple calls him dad on accident’ is a cute idea #but honestly it would make more sense if they called him mom on accident instead. or if it happened when they were afraid. not comfortable #(this is presuming orchid is his mother and navy his father based on the pronouns used in the react vids iirc) #because why would purple refer to someone he sees as a parent with the title of the one that presumably did not raise them? #and on mangos end #i think u can kinda tell who in this fandom has never lost a loved one in how they characterize him #guys. grief doesnt leave. it never leaves. #you just learn to live with it!!! #mango is not okay just because he has a new kid to take care of. i would know this my bio mom passed and i have a stepmother!!! #she does not fill that void and i do not expect her to because it cannot be filled. but she brings a lot new to ease the pain and is a #wonderful part of my life #the same thing here #mango will never ever just .. go back to how he was #he will never be the same since gold died. and thats okay #purple will not change that. they will merely add something new #their dynamic can be beautiful and nontraditional and a showing of how grief can change you #it doesnt have to be ‘replacement dad and replacement son’ #its so much more #oke. tag rant over #fett rambles #ava #uhh should i tag the chars

[heatobrienswife]

.

#tw: death #tw: irl death #tw: parent death #ok those tags will make sense in a moment but! cause I've been going back through my s/is lore it made think a lil deeper into her #relationship with o'b (true heat) n well the thought of them talking about kids came up #both o'b n myself irl have a genetic that can lead to terminal illness n cause my s/i is me she has it too #o'b carries a disease in his blood that killed his sister n mine can lead to terminal cancer not 100% but I'm more likely to possibly get it #over someone who doesn't have the same gene it's what killed my own dad irl #so i like the idea of both of them like bonding on that level knowing they both have like this *monster* inside them inside their genetics #n well its comforting to me to know he knows exactly how i feel irl #idk cause of the whole his ashes finally being ready for pick up thing it sorta opened old *wounds* n my fear of dying like he did #i know I'm gonna die someday everyone is but i don't wanna die the way he did #i think I'm venting uogihviyv not what i meant to do! I'm not looking for comfort! just brain werms went screwy lol #but i really like the idea of the two of them having a bonding moment over their fears n grief in a way that only people in that position #can #n it's comforting so ojghvihfiv #shut up rattie no one gives a shit lol

[abyssruler]

roses are red, violets are blue, lynette is so done with the two of you

lyney x gn!reader

lynette thinks fontaine’s worst kept secret isn’t how neuvillette wears blue underwear or how the hydro archon loves a good drama, no, fontaine’s worst kept secret is lyney’s massive crush on you and how everyone and their grandmother know except you.

comedy, pining lyney, lynette being so done

Lyney’s frowning.

Most people would find it an odd expression on him, used to having him direct dazzling smiles and playful laughter their way. But Lynette isn’t just anyone, and the sight of Lyney frowning is hardly a rare phenomenon within the privacy of their household.

Freminet’s usually Lyney’s choice of victim for whatever nonsense he’s managed to build himself up in that head of his, but Freminet’s busy doing errands and Lynette is unfortunately the only person within vicinity that Lyney trusts with his secret—which isn’t even a secret by this point, people have been making bets on how long it would take you to realize that Lyney’s been pining over you since forever.

Case in point: Lyney frowning over two identical flowers. She doesn’t need to be a mind reader to know that her brother is having a midlife crisis over which flower to give you.

Lynette thinks he should just man up and confess. Preferably within the next week or so, otherwise she’d lose her bet.

“Lynette, which one is more eye-catching, the crimson one,” he holds up the flower in his right hand, then he raises the other one, “or the maroon one?”

Lynette gives him the deadest stare she can muster. “They’re the same color.”

“Oh, sister, have you no taste?” Lyney tuts, pouting at her for a moment before returning to that constipated look as he squinted at the ‘crimson’ and ‘maroon’ flowers. Talk about being delusional.

“(Y/N)’s not gonna care whether the rose is crimson or maroon or red,” she tells him. You’d probably accept a dead flower if it came from Lyney, with that starry-eyed look you always got whenever he so much as glances your way. Lynette’s not one to judge other people’s taste too harshly, but she does wonder what you see in her overdramatic and annoying brother.

Ah, well. They do say love makes people blind. Hopefully not literally though, Lynette’s not looking forward to performing shows alone because Lyney got blinded by his love for you—though if you asked Lynette, she’d tell you it wasn’t love so much as obsession. Only someone insane would spend hours picking out flowers and calling them ‘maroon’ and ‘crimson’. It’s just red.

Lynette squints at him. “And since when were you interested in the meaning of flowers?”

“Well, I suppose you could say I like to dabble in other pursuits.” Lyney gives her a cheeky grin.

“Right…” He’s clearly losing his mind.

“Red roses symbolize true love, though rainbow roses in particular pertain to passion, and…” He trails off, eyes blinking in astonishment. She can practically see the lightbulb appearing on top of his head.

With a flick of his wrists, the ‘crimson’ and ‘maroon’ roses disappear. Lynette watches him warily, wondering what kind of outlandish idea has formed in that head of his.

But he doesn’t elaborate more, only shoots a wink at her and says, “I’ve got a great idea.”

✧

His great idea, as it turns out, is to corner you in an alleyway and make it rain rainbow roses around you as he asked you out on a date, all while Lynette is crouched on the roof, dumping sacks of rainbow roses and vindictively hoping one of them stabs Lyney in the eye. No such luck.

You, as the ever-crazy romantic that you are, are awestruck and amazed by what he’s done instead of weirded out like how a normal person would be. With an eager smile and a twinkle in your eye, you accept the rose in Lyney’s hand and say yes when he asks you to meet him for dinner tomorrow. Lynette wants to barf, but settles for dumping another sack of flowers on top of the two of you.

And if she uses a little bit of anemo to direct a few petals to Lyney’s face? Well, you removing a petal sticking to his cheek and having your fingers linger there for a few moments wasn’t part of the plan (the plan being: embarrass her brother by having him choke on a petal while he’s speaking), but she can’t entirely begrudge the result. Not when Lyney looks like he’s about to have a meltdown with just one touch from you. Good blackmail material right there.

Lynette’s happy that the two of you have finally gotten your heads off your asses and are actually going on a date. Though mostly she’s happy about the amount of mora heading her way soon.

She’ll have to thank Freminet for telling her about the bet about you and Lyney. Maybe she can start a new bet on when the two of you are getting married—probably soon, if the lovestruck look on Lyney’s face is anything to go by. She hopes he won’t be crazy enough to propose on the second date, because you’d certainly be crazy enough to accept if he did.

Oh, well. Lynette will put a bet on one month just in case.

#look i haven’t done the archon quest yet #so i don’t have a good feel yet of their characters #but i’m sticking with this characterization!! #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #lyney x reader #gn reader #lynette

[fanficgirl429]

Mike has a feelings for you (fluff)

Prompt: While babysitting Abby she tells you that Mike has a crush on you

Pairing: Reader x Mike Schmidt

----

“I can’t believe I have to fucking work today,” Mike says, pulling his gray security shirt on. “I told them I can only work during the week!”

Your best friend scrambles around the living room, looking for his phone, keys, and wallet- all of which are in various places. You are currently sitting on the couch, watching all of this unfold. He was always leaving his items in various places. How many times had you told him to leave them in the same spot?

He finds his keys and phone and shoves them into the back pocket of his jeans.

“Where is my wallet?” he says, running his fingers through his already messy brown hair.

“Did you check your room?” you ask.

He quickly leaves the room and returns moments later with his wallet in his hand.

Mike let’s out a sigh and looks over at you. “Are you sure you’re ok watching her? I can always call Max.”

“I don’t mind watching her at all,” you tell him.

You stand up and walk over to your best friend. Wrapping your arms around his waist you pull him into a tight hug. He instantly relaxes and wraps his arms around you.

“You have no idea how amazing you are,” Mike tells you, smiling.

You laugh as Mike takes a step back and towards the front door.

“Thank you so much for watching her,” Mike calls. “I owe you!”

“Hey Abs,” you say, sitting down on the edge of her bed. “What are you drawing?”

Abby smiles and passes you the sheet of paper. There is a white house with a large tree and three people standing out front. A man, a woman, and a child.

“You have to tell me who everyone is,” you say, pointing to the three people.

Abby stands up and comes to sit besides you on the bed. Her small hand points to the man on the page, “That’s Mike,” she moves her hand to the woman, “you,” and points to the child, “and that’s me.”

You weren’t shocked that you were drawn- Abby tended to draw the three of you alot. Mike and you had been best friends since middle school and you loved Abby like she was your little sister. Most of her drawings were things the three of you had done together or what she wanted to do with the two of you.

“And who’s house is this?” you question.

“We all live there together,” Abby states.

“Oh, that sounds fun,” you reply.

“Yea! Because you and Mike are going to get married!”

Abby’s comment throws you off. Not once has she ever asked about your and her brother's relationship.

“What makes you think we’re getting married?”

“Because Mike has a crush on you,” Abby says, shrugging.

You laugh. “No he doesn’t.”

Abby nods her head. “Yes he does. He says your name a lot in his sleep.”

“But that doesn’t mean he has a crush on me,” you tell her.

Abby’s silent for a moment then answers quietly. “You make him smile and laugh and he’s always happy when you’re around. He’s not like that around anyone else.”

Her answer surprises you but kids are very perceptive. Instead of pressing any further, you tell Abby to start to get ready for bed.

“Do you have a crush on Mike?” Abby askes as you tuck her in to her bed.

“Oh…um…yea, I do,” you tell her.

Little does Abby know but you are in love with her brother.

Abby smiles and nods and you turn the light off, closing the door behind you as you walk back to the living room.

—-

Abby falls asleep quickly and you sit in the living room watching tv. Your mind keeps going back to conversation with Abby. Does Mike really have a crush on you?

Abby doesn't know it (well maybe she figured it out) but you’ve had feelings for Mike for a long time. You loved your relationship with Mike and didn’t want to jeopardize it so you never made any indication or moves towards him. You had hoped that maybe he would be the first one to make a move but he never did.

All of the sudden it hits you, how tired you are. You stand up from the couch and stretch and slowly walk back towards Mikes room. This isn’t the first time you had slept over. Many times after Abby had gone to sleep, you and Mike would stay up together, hanging out. At first Mike insisted that you sleep at his house but now he didn’t even have to say anything- you would just crash on his bed, next to him.

It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep and a few hours later, the bed dips slightly as Mike lays down next to you- waking you but only for a brief moment.

—-

The sun peeks through the curtains in Mikes room and the smell of bacon and pancakes wake you up from your sleep.

The spot on the bed next to you is disheveled -the only evidence that Mike has slept there.

As you lay in bed for another minute, you hear voices drifting down the hallway. You can’t make out what they are saying but you can tell it’s Mike and Abby.

Standing up, you walk into the hallway but hang back for a moment- waiting to see what they are talking about.

“Did you know that Y/N had a crush on you?” Abby tells Mike.

“How do you know?” you hear him ask.

“She told me,” Abby states matter of factly.

It’s then that you decide to walk into the small kitchen. Abby and Mike are both sitting at the small kitchen table, eating bacon and pancakes.

“Morning,” you say, walking over to the coffee maker.

“Morning,” Abby and Mike say at the same time.

Mike's hair is sticking up in various directions and he looks like he just woke up. His dark t-shirt hugs his frame and you know he’s wearing his favorite pair of flannel pajama pants.

“I’m going to go draw,” Abby says, leaving you and Mike alone in the kitchen.

Mike watches as you pour yourself a glass of coffee but don’t turn around to face him.

“So,” he begins. “Abby told me something interesting…”

“And what was that?” you question, although you already know the answer.

“She said that you have a crush on me.”

“Oh. Why would she say that?”

“She said that you told her you did.”

You turn around to face your best friend, your eyes locking with his. His cheeks are slightly pink and it makes you feel better that this conversation might be slightly embarrassing for him as well.

“I-uh-,” you stammer.

Mike stands up and walks over to you and your back presses against the counter. He slowly moves his hands to your waist, waiting to see how you’ll react. When you don’t move away, he grips your waist, his brown eyes locking with yours.

“What if I told you that I had a crush on you?” he says.

A soft smile crosses your lips and Mike reaches up and places his hand against your cheek, his thumb moving in small circles.

You move your arms up and snake them around his neck, waiting for him to make the next move. His body is pressed against yours and you can feel his heart pounding against his chest.

Within moments, he leans down and brushes his lips against yours before pulling away.

“Why did you stop?” you tease him.

He smiles as his presses his lips against yours and they move together, almost as if the two of you had done this before.

#mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt fnatf #mike schmidt #mike schmidt fnaf #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson imagine #fnaf mike #fnaf mike schmidt #mike Schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #josh hutcherson x reader

[ithebookhoarder]

Truth or Dare (Anthony Bridgerton x Wife!Reader)

Summary: Married only a few months, you are very much one of the Bridgerton brood - something that often drives your poor husband mad, especially when you happen to be every bit as chaotic and unruly as his siblings... Also known as, you, Benedict and Eloise take a game of ‘truth or dare’ a bit too far. 

A/N: What can I say? It’s well and truly fluff-tober over here on my blog 😅

Warnings: Alcohol, mild smut, swearing, Anthony losing his mind, typical Bridgerton sibling shenanigans 

Masterlist

There weren’t many nights Anthony spent away from your side.

They were few and far between, but that didn’t lessen how irksome you found them when the odd occasion called for him to leave you over night. You didn’t know what it was exactly, but you never truly slept well without your husband there to hold you.

Of course, it had to be one of those nights that you truly found yourself in a spot of mischief. Though, in fairness, it had all started rather innocently.

Un-beknowst to you at the time, it was Benedict that had been first outside on the garden swing, sipping from a stolen bottle of whiskey he’d pilfered from the kitchens. He’d been sat there perhaps ten minutes by himself, staring at the stars and lamenting about some problem or other.

Then Eloise had come along.

As was her habit - you later discovered - she had been swift to follow her brother’s example, sneaking out of the house in her nightgown for a reprieve in the night air… and a cigarette or two. Apparently her second-eldest brother was something of a soft touch when it came to her, not that you could blame him for it. You doted on Eloise too.

Then, finally, completing the eclectic cast of characters, there had been you.

Now, in your defence, you hadn’t intended on going out into the garden that night, but had found no other alternative suitable given the blasted summer heat. It was worse tonight that it had been all week, and without Anthony in bed beside you, you saw little point in enduring with the effort of trying to get any rest.

So, you’d decided to make your way quietly through the house and sit outside a while, and pray for a breeze. You hadn’t, however, expected to find both Bridgerton siblings already sat there, having had a similar idea.

“My, what do we have here? Another night owl?”

It was Benedict who spoke first, smiling warmly at the sight of you appearing out of the darkness. He was quick to rise, offering you his swing as a perch to rest upon, beside Eloise.

You were about to protest that it wasn’t necessary and that you could find somewhere else to sit, but a warning glare from Eloise was enough to silence you.

She was all too eager to pat the seat next to her in invitation, looking remarkably pleased to have another addition to their little party.

“Come. Sit,” she ordered. “We were simply discussing how tedious Lady Tremaine’s luncheon will be tomorrow and how we could possibly avoid the whole thing. Now that you’re here, you can help us plot our escape. Benedict’s only suggestion thus far has been some kind of contagious summer cold.”

“I think I actually said that I would use such an excuse, sister,” Benedict corrected with a teasing grin. “Not that we would share it.”

“Traitor.”

“Hardly. It is every man - or woman - for themselves. Right, Y/N?”

“Alas, I think your mother would be rather suspicious at all three of us suddenly being absent,” you sighed by way of explanation as both their eyes turned to you. “Besides, I only came outside because of this heat, not to join some conspiracy.”

“Hardly,” Eloise chuckled. “We simply had the same idea, but I am rather glad you came to join us. Perhaps we should form some secret kind of club - Bridgertons against boredom?”

“And do what? Constantly find excuses not to attend social events we deem too tedious or odious to be dragged along to?”

“Sounds like a marvellous idea to me.”

“It would, sister dear,” Benedict teased. “You always have a talent for causing chaos and anarchy. You’d suit the cause perfectly, even if we both know our mother would never stand for it. She somehow sees through even our best efforts.”

“In which case, it’s time I take a leaf out of your book, Benedict. After all, you always say social events become far more bearable after a good drink or two,” Eloise smirked, gesturing towards the bottle of whiskey Benedict had been steadily nursing. “Perhaps I should follow my brothers  example and learn to hold a drink, maybe then things will be more fun.”

“Oh no.” Benedict was quick to shut down that idea, holding the bottle possessively to his chest and shaking his head. “No. I am not allowing you to start drinking. Mother would have my head if she caught you, not to mention Anthony would have all ours heads on a platter in no time.”

The thought of it made you laugh. Your husband was hardly a tyrant, even if he’d been known to have a temper but he was easy enough to handle. A few soft words in his ear or a kiss on the cheek and he was putty in your hands, helplessly and completely in love with you. Just as you were in love with him.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared of Anthony, Benedict?” you giggled, causing Eloise to join you. “I assure you, he’s more a kitten than a lion and he’d probably prefer you to allow Eloise to sample alcohol here, under your supervision, than when she inevitably decides to rebel and has her first drink later on, in the middle of some public ball…”

The warning was clear and you all knew very likely true. Still, Eloise was beaming in victory as Benedict cursed to himself, muttering about Bridgerton women and the likely death he’d receive should Anthony ever find out he had allowed Eloise to sample whiskey. “Just a few sips, El. I mean it.”

“Oh hush,” she snorted, taking the bottle before he could change his mind. She was quick to throw back her head and down a rather brave mouthful, causing you to laugh even harder as she scrunched her face up in disgust. “Oh! That is revolting.”

“I told you.”

“Now you, Y/N,” Eloise grinned, turning and offering the offending item towards you. “Go on. Join us trouble makers - I won’t say a word about it if you don’t.”

“Oh, for goodness sake… Give me that then,” you sighed, earning a cheer from them both, knowing it was better to simply surrender rather than try and fight their mischievous whims. It only increased as you took an ambitious swig from the bottle, wincing at the acrid burning sensation it left in your throat.

If only Anthony could have seen you. He’d have probably had some kind of seizure - especially as you took another quick swig before handing the bottle back.

“There. Your turn again, brother dearest.”

“My my. You really are quite surprising,” Benedict sniggered, before winking up at you in admiration. “Who knew it? You can hold your drink better than Colin. He seems cursed to choke any time he drinks anything stronger than a brandy.”

“Well, it is your sex that falsely deemed us the weaker,” Eloise quipped. “It’s not our fault you were ignorant.”

“I’d like to remind you I wasn’t part of that decision and you also looked ready to choke a moment ago, El.”

“Doesn’t matter, you’re still one of the enemy,” she giggled, earning another raucous laugh from you. Oh, you loved her. If you’d ever been so blessed to have had a sister, you hoped she’d have been just like her. “Now, it is your turn again, brother.”

“Oh … joy.”

“Else we shall have to have some kind of forfeit.”

“A forfeit?” you scoffed, finding the idea absurd. “Like what?”

“How about… truth or dare?”

Benedict froze. “Oh no. Not again. Pall Mall is one thing but we swore we would never play that game in this family again-“

“But Benedict-“

“What’s truth or dare?”

Your innocent question ceased their bickering instantly. Their eyes widened as they turned to you, a knowing and nervous look passing between them. Somehow, you knew this evening was about to get wildly out of hand.

Sometime later, you’d been fully apprised of the rules of ‘truth or dare’. In fact, you’d been something of a natural at it, even if you knew the copious amounts of whiskey you’d all consumed was more than likely the responsible culprit. Else, you’d probably have known better and snuck back off inside before you could make a fool of yourself.

By the end of the night, Benedict had climbed a tree, confessed to being oddly scared of spiders, and been forced to sing the national anthem in French.

Eloise had also made an admirable effort, despite her obviously lower tolerance for drink. She still permitted Benedict to try and arrange her hair, before daring to steal a sock from Colin’s room whilst he’d slept. Then she’d loosened a leg on a dining chair. (Alas, none of you could remember which one but that somehow made it even funnier - even if it would not be come morning when you were forced to sit at the table for breakfast in some kind of roulette.)

You could only pray you didn’t choose said seat.

You could also only pray neither of your conspirators shared your contributions with your husband. You weren’t exactly sure how Anthony would feel at the fact you gone for a midnight paddle in the pond, nor that you’d mixed up the papers on his desk, all before finishing the night with a final dare that involved stealing several cakes from the kitchens… you still swore Mrs Reynolds would notice, come morning, that there were no longer twelve perfect cakes.

That, and Benedict had somehow knocked flour all over the counter, causing you all to erupt in drunken laughter as you’d bolted back outside.  

Needless to say, you all looked a sorry sight as you lay in the grass together, staring at the approaching dawn. Had you not been so tired, or drunk, you may have suggested retiring back to your rooms before the house awoke shortly.

“Now that… was fun.”

“Fun? That was more than fun. I haven’t laughed like that in ages.”

“Told you it was a good idea.”

You hummed in agreement with your sister in law.

“I can see why you all favoured this game so much,” you sniggered, winking at Eloise as she sat in the grass beside you. “I can also see why you all agreed to stop playing it… I don’t know what Anthony would say if he saw what we’d been up to.”

“Something sensible and disapproving most likely,” Benedict sniggered. “Our brother, and your husband, can be a right prig, no offence.”

“Oh hush. At least I didn’t let my sister dress me up in her petticoat when she was five.”

Benedict’s jaw dropped.

“Who told you about that?” he demanded indignantly.

“I have my sources.”

Benedict’s eyes narrowed as he turned his head to glare at his younger sister. “Well, you can tell your source that she’s going to have to find someone else to fetch her lemonade at the Cowper’s ball tomorrow night unless she apologises. You can also tell her that I’ll accept either a verbal or a written apology as long as it’s suitably abject. And that means very, very abject,” he added darkly.

“Tell me, Benedict, was it a lacy petticoat?”

With a wordless grunt of annoyance, Benedict groaned, but it was hard to hear over the laughter echoing from you and Eloise. You resembled more a pack of hyenas than two noble ladies - you probably looked just as feral after your night of mischief.

And of course, as was always your luck, that was exactly how your husband found you mere seconds later.

How Anthony had arrived without any of you hearing a carriage pulling up to the house at this time of the night - morning? You couldn’t be sure - was a mystery. Yet, there he was, hands on hips and looking thunderous as he stormed towards the three of you with all the fury of an exasperated headmaster.  

“What in God’s name are you all playing at?”

You all froze.

It was as if someone had poured a bucket of ice water over you as your eyes widened, and you all turned to stare sheepishly at him.

“Oh, darling. You’re home?”

“Don’t ‘oh darling’ me,” Anthony sighed, attempting to scold you but without much success. His attempt at seriousness was somewhat undermined by his brother’s heckling, singing ‘here comes mother’ and that ‘someone’s in trouble’. That, and with the way you were lying, he was upside down. “What are you doing up at this god forsaken hour? And why are you … is that flour? And why are you soaking wet?”

“I went for a swim.”

“A - you went for a -“

“And Benedict did my hair,” Eloise interjected suddenly, waving her arms about as she gestured to the tangle of hair upon her head. “Isn’t it marvellous?”

Anthony’s expression very much said that he did not think it was marvellous. Nor did he find any of this vaguely amusing.

In fact, by the way he took a long deep breath, you knew he was doing his best not to lose his temper and wake the entirety of the household. His brow always creased like that when he was faced with dealing with his family, but the expression only made him seem more adorable and handsome to you, rather than authoritative. However, you’d never told him so, knowing it would hardly be deemed a compliment in his eyes.

You also doubted he’d appreciate your usual response right now, which was normally to kiss said brow until it eased back into its relaxed form.

“We were just playing a game to escape the heat, darling,” you soothed. “We couldn’t sleep and all had the same idea to seek refuge outdoors… we simply got carried away passing the time.”

“What game?”

“Pardon?”

“I said, what was the game you were all playing?” Anthony suddenly quipped, the warning clear in his tone. That, and his eyes landed squarely on his two siblings, who at least had the decency to look sheepish… and afraid. “Because there is but one game I can think of that would result in a mess like this one, and I’m confused, because I know for a fact that we banned that game under this roof, and any other roof that houses the Bridgertons.”

No one moved.

No one even breathed.

It was as if you were all too scared to risk answering Anthony, even if the empty bottle of whiskey did most of the talking by itself.

“I don’t recall the name,” you blinked. “Right, Benedict?”

“Oh, uh… we… we were just- Eloise?”

Eloise froze, the guilt written all too clearly on her face for her to even try and salvage the situation - though that could also be down to the whisky she had consumed… it was honestly hard to be sure at this point.

“Well, dear brother,” she began, only to trail off as Anthony lifted his hand.

The silence was instantaneous. 

No one dared to say another word, let alone move. 

You’d never seen Eloise or Benedict so still in your entire life. Hell, you weren’t even sure they were breathing - probably out of fear Anthony would decide to inform their mother about their mischievous exploits. 

If Anthony Bridgerton was scary when vexed, then Violet Bridgerton was a nightmare brought to life in human form. After all, as the matriarch of a family of eight children, she had learned a long time ago how to keep her unruly children in line - a harrowing experience you had only had occasion to witness once or twice since your marriage into the Bridgerton family. Once had been when Colin and Gregory had broken a priceless vase when racing around the house, despite being explicitly banned from doing so. The other had been when she had caught Eloise and Benedict smoking outside on the terrace one night. 

It was easy to say where your husband had inherited it from. 

“Not. Another. Word,” your husband growled, bending down and sweeping you up into his arms in a move that made you squeal in surprise. “Right now, I am taking my wife to bed and I suggest you two do the same - after you clean up your mess. I’ll deal with the lot of you in the morning.” 

A laugh escaped you as you tried not to look like you were enjoying the sudden turn of events too much. After all, you doubted he’d be too happy once you were more sober and he discovered the true extent of your nightly activities. 

It was why you were only too happy to let him put you to bed, grumbling all the while about letting his siblings run wild. He really was most handsome when he was flushed - a fact you were reminded of as he hastily changed for bed, flashing you a tempting glimpse of his bare torso in the process. 

You could tell without asking he was tired from his journey home, as well as fighting the urge to rip his hair out over the chaos he had found upon his return. 

Thankfully, his need to be in your arms outweighed the need to scold you over letting yourself be drawn into his siblings’ schemes. All it took was you pulling him down onto the mattress, and climbing into his lap to turn him into a needy, lovestruck puddle. 

You’d equally missed having him in your arms, but you’d be lying if you said that your sudden forwardness wasn't also due to a mixture of the whiskey you’d drunk, and the residual giddiness from a night of mischief. A confidence radiated from you as you began to run your hands over his bare chest, taking care to graze the areas you knew made him groan. 

“You’re lucky I love you so much,” he teased breathlessly, visibly unable to refuse your advances. 

“Is that so?”

Anthony chuckled, nodding as he surged his lips towards yours. “Yes, so come here, my delinquent drunken wife, and let me kiss you before you and those doe-eyes of yours drive me insane. Now.”

Your laughter and surrender was immediate. “As you wish.” 

Alas, for poor Anthony, that was not the end of the ordeal. 

In fact, it was the next morning as you made your way into breakfast that you faced the final consequences of your delinquency. 

Despite wishing to remain abed for the entire day, you’d been granted no such reprieve as your maid had entered your room at the usual appointed time and proceeded to open the curtains with no regard for the fact that you had slept a mere handful of hours. Whereas you would normally greet the day with a reluctant smile, you were in no state to manage much more than a groan as you were harshly ripped from your slumber.

If you had somehow not yet come to the conclusion that last night had been a bad idea, then the sudden flare of pain in your head at the bright intrusion was all the proof you needed. That, and the sudden churning in your stomach. 

You would never let Benedict or Eloise coax you into drinking with them again. 

You had not realised, despite how the idiom went, that what went up was sure to come down again - and you had come crashing down. 

Hard.

“If you’re ready to dress, my lady, then breakfast will be served shortly,” your maid chirped, a dress already picked out for you to wear. She either couldn't detect your fragile state, or didn't seem to care as she continued speaking at a painfully loud volume. “My Lord sent me to wake you as he is finishing business in the study. He was up frightfully early, I could scarce believe it went the housemaids told me they’d already found him awake when they went to start the fires this morning. Gave young Samantha a right fright he did, scribbling away at his desk.” 

“Oh?” you croaked. 

You hadn’t even noticed the empty space in the bed bedside you until then. 

Clearly Anthony had risen early, if he’d even gone to sleep at all. Why were you not surprised? Your husband was perpetually in motion, always claiming there was something or someone that needed his urgent attention as the head of the Bridgerton clan. It was just one of the things that made you love him so much.

“Is he still there?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” the young girl continued, breezing about your room. “And that’s not the only strange incident this morning. It will tickle you rotten when I tell you the latest drama, but you see, Mrs Reynolds was ranting and raving about how she swore she had made three trays of fruit tarts last night, yet this morning, there were only two. The youngest kitchen maid, Betsy, is convinced it must be a ghost but my money is on Carter - the groom’s boy - he’s always snooping about the kitchen...” 

You winced. Ah. Maybe you hadn't been as stealthy last night as you’d hoped after all...

With as much enthusiasm as you could muster, you began to peel yourself from the mattress, trying to appear as if you were listening to your maid’s theories as she dressed you for the day. It then took all your resolve to make it downstairs and to the breakfast table without tripping over your own feet, or emptying the non-existent contents of your stomach. 

To your relief, only Eloise and Benedict had so far taken a seat at the breakfast table - and both looked about as miserable as you felt.  

“Good morning,” you mumbled, taking your usual chair next to the head of the table. You were quick to accept the steaming cup of coffee Benedict handed you, shooting him a thankful look. “Dare I ask how we feel?” 

“I think better than you and my dear sister here,” Benedict chirped, gesturing at a miserable looking Eloise. She had her head in her hands and was desperately trying to look at the plate of food in front of her with something other than repulsion. “Then again, I must admit I am somewhat more experienced in the art of late-night mischief than you both. I also did not have to deal with my brother before going to bed - thank you, again, for that noble sacrifice.”

“Your welcome,” you chuckled, a faint heat rising in your cheeks as you remembered the exact events after you and Anthony had gone to bed. “I just feel bad that you both got left to clean up the mess.” 

“Don’t be. I think we got it all.”

“You say that but I can’t remember anything after you started singing in French,” Eloise groaned, massaging her forehead once more. “I have the oddest feeling we may have forgotten something.”

You paused. You could only hope for your sake she was wrong. 

However, you were saved from such discussion by the arrival of the rest of the Bridgerton bunch. All conversation about your night-time escapades were quickly forgotten as Colin, Hyacinth and Gregory entered the room, bickering about something you couldn’t quite make out. They were swiftly followed by Violet and Francesca, who both looked unfairly cheerful for so early in the morning. 

You could only wish to look so fresh and composed before your first cup of whatever caffeinated beverage you could get your hands on. 

Then, finally, came your husband. Entering the room last, he turned and shot you a warm smile. Clearly, your shenanigans had been forgotten - for now - replaced instead by the memory of your other activities, much to the relief of you and your co-conspirators. 

In fact, you swore you saw Eloise exhale a breath of relief when Anthony didn't immediately launch into one of his lectures. Instead, he chose to join the rest of his family in helping himself to the awaiting breakfast spread, laid out on the sideboard for them, listening to some ongoing debate between his mother and youngest brother. 

“-but you said we could visit the park this afternoon.”

“I know, sweetheart, but I have to take Francesca and Eloise for their final fittings at the modiste. We shouldn’t be too long, and we can go after? Unless, perhaps your brothers will take you. Colin? Benedict? Anthony?”

Benedict looked physically pained at the idea of an afternoon at the park, what with his current delicate constitution and all. You honestly couldn't blame him. “Well, I uh - have a drawing class, this afternoon. Very last minute. Sorry.” 

“And I... um, have a meeting at the club?” Colin stammered hastily. “Anthony?” 

“Please, Anthony?” Gregory begged, all but pouting at his older brother as the pair made their way to the table. “I promise I’ll do all my lessons this week without complaining if you say yes. I’ll even let you have my pudding tonight.”

“As you asked so nicely, brother, I don’t see how an hour or so at the park could do any harm -” Anthony began, pulling out the chair next to you and lowering himself onto the seat in a moment that felt like it lasted forever as a horrifying sensation swept over you. 

You remembered what you’d forgotten. 

The chair.

“Anthony, wait-!”

The sudden crash was startling, as was the sight of your husband being sent flying backwards as the chair collapsed beneath him. 

No one moved. 

No one said a word. 

Benedict looked across at you and Eloise, the horror clear in his eyes as he choked the word you felt on the tip of your tongue: “Run!”

#Bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton fluff #bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #ithebookhoarder #thesilentmage #masterlist #Violet Bridgerton #gregory bridgerton #hyacinth bridgerton #francesca bridgerton #bridgerton fluff #jonathan bailey #colin bridgerton

[punkshort]

i'll be home for christmas | part one

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Having just caught your fiancé cheating on you, you decide to come back home from the big city to Austin for the month of December to try to figure out your next step. You had no idea you would be getting more than you bargained for with the handsome single dad who built your parents' house.

Chapter Warnings: no outbreak, modern day but Joel is 40, language, fluff, flirting, reader has a childhood nickname only her family uses, Hallmark tropes up the wazoo, soft!joel, reader's sister is pregnant, talks of infidelity, talks of divorce, alcohol use, kissing, (smut in part two)

WC: 9.1K

A/N: this is my take on a cheesy, fluffy, soft, smutty, Joel Miller Hallmark Christmas movie. It's just sweet and silly and makes me smile, and I hope it does the same for you. I also wrote this in less than 2 days and didn't really edit it much, so sorry in advance if there's any errors.

Found the pic on Twitter but can't remember the source, if you know please send me a message and i will credit them

Series Masterlist

It was the second week of December as you stood inside the airport in Austin, Texas, waiting for your luggage to emerge on the conveyor belt. You thought by coming home early, you would have avoided the holiday traffic, but you were wrong. All around you, people squealed with excitement and embraced, dragging their worn out luggage behind them as they made their way out of the bustling airport. You tried to keep the scowl from your face as you watched, but it was next to impossible, so you wrapped your Burberry scarf around your neck instead, hoping to hide your displeasure.

This was not the plan you had for Christmas. You should be in New York in a high-rise apartment in front of a roaring fireplace with a glass of wine and your fiancé - ex-fiancé - not back in Austin with your parents, who begged you to come visit for the holidays after you told them the news.

Coming home to visit wasn't your favorite thing, but you felt guilty having avoided the holidays with your family for so many years, and you would have ended up all alone in the city anyway. So you caved, using up all the PTO you saved for the wedding, and took the rest of the year off from work.

Your designer luggage stood out like a sore thumb when it tumbled down the conveyor belt. You winced after watching the impact and snatched it up quickly. Glancing around, you saw a beacon in the storm: a familiar green, glowing sign in the distance - Starbucks. The line was long, but your flight was early, so you waited and got a latte, hoping it would lift your spirits a bit before you had to face your parents.

You tapped the side of your coffee cup anxiously as you rode the escalator down to the first floor, scanning the crowd for your mom and dad. There were a few people holding up signs with names on them, and when you saw the sign that said "Bucket" on it, you cringed.

Your dad's tall, round frame came into view when the people in front of him dispersed. He looked almost exactly the same, except a little greyer. Still sporting a shockingly full head of hair and his signature thick mustache, he grinned and pulled you into a warm hug.

"Really, Dad? 'Bucket'?"

"Well, that's what we call you, ain't it?" he said with a smile. You rolled your eyes and tried to be annoyed, but you had to admit that you were happy to see him.

"Where's Mom?" you asked.

"She's waitin' in the car, didn't wanna pay for parking so we're in a pick up zone, let's hustle," he said, wrapping his arm around you as he led you outside. "How was the flight?"

"Long," you said, then gasped when the cold air hit you. "Wow, I didn't think it would be this cold yet."

"It's been a cold one so far this year," he nodded, directing you to the left where you could see your mom smiling and waving from the passenger seat of their white SUV. You waved back and grinned. Maybe coming home wasn't such a bad idea, after all.

"Hiya, Bucky!" your mom said happily, leaning out of the window to give you a half hug while your dad loaded up your belongings in the back.

"Hey, Mom," you replied. "I like your sweater."

She was wearing one of her tacky Christmas sweaters that she wore every year - unironically. It amazed you how some things never change.

You climbed into the back seat as your dad carefully exited the parking spot and joined the line of cars that were slowly inching towards the main road.

"We're so glad you decided to come home this year, you can finally see the new house!" your mom said excitedly. They had built a brand new house, and the way she provided updates and pictures to you over the phone for the past year, you felt like you had already seen it.

"Yeah, can't wait," you said, staring out the window.

"Hope you don't mind, but we're throwin' a party tomorrow night," your dad said, glancing at you in the review mirror. "Wanted to have our friends over to see the place and have an early holiday party. They'll be so happy to see you, it's been so long since you've been home, Buck."

You had been hoping to spend most of the next three weeks in bed moping and scrolling on your phone. The thought of a party and seeing all those people looking at you with pity made your stomach turn. Your mom must have sensed your discomfort.

"It's alright, honey. They won't say anything," she said softly, and you squeezed your eyes shut.

"Okay," you replied, your voice pained as you opened your eyes to stare at the passing traffic on the thruway.

You'll make an appearance for an hour, and then try to sneak back upstairs until the party ends, already fabricating a headache to blame it on.

The house your parents built was impressive, even you had to admit. It was a two story colonial with four bedrooms and three bathrooms. The open floor plan was stunning as you made your way from room to room. The first floor alone had a spacious living room with vaulted ceilings, a kitchen with an attached dining room, and a separate family room off the back. There was even a small office by the front door that you missed the first time around, and a pantry as big as your closet back home.

You cringed at the thought, reminding yourself that it was no longer your home. That was part of the problem. You had moved in with Will, and when you discovered he had been cheating on you, you crashed at your friend Melanie's place. When you tearfully told your parents the news a few days later, they asked you to come home. Just for the holidays, your mom had said. Just to give you time to figure out your next move.

"This is beautiful, Mom," you said honestly, admiring the fine details on the cabinets.

"Thank you, sweetie. Took a long time, but Joel built it just right for us," she said, beaming.

"Oh, the contractor, right?" you replied, distracted now by the backsplash above the counters.

"He's such a sweet man, he was so patient with us when we changed our minds a million times over every little thing."

"Well, tell him he did a great job," you murmured, opening and shutting different drawers.

"You can tell him yourself, he'll be at the party tomorrow," your dad said, opening the fridge to scrounge for some snacks.

"You invited your contractor to your holiday party?" you asked in disbelief.

"Sure we did. We either saw him or spoke to him almost every single day for a year. He's a good man."

"Okay," you said slowly, still finding it a bit strange, but reminding yourself that things worked a little differently in the south.

"Bucket!" you heard your sister call from the front of the house. A smile plastered across your face instantly as you rushed to the door, both of you squealing as you wrapped your arms around each other and jumped in a circle, unable to contain your excitement.

"Cassie!" you said, pulling back to look at her, brushing her sleek, dark brown hair over her shoulder. "You look fantastic!"

"Ugh, I feel like shit," she said, and you laughed, glancing down at her barely swollen belly.

"How far along are you again?" you asked.

"Twenty weeks, but I'm ready for this to be over! I'm so tired all the time, it sucks," she said, flopping down on the couch in the living room after she gave your parents quick hugs.

"Where's Josh?" your mom asked, referring to your brother in law.

"He's still working, he'll be by later," Cassie said, waving her hand. "Gives us a chance to catch up," she added with a wink.

"You girls do that, we need to go to the store for tomorrow night. Do you need anything?" your mom asked, and you shook your head, eager for them to leave so you could be alone with your sister.

"Tell me everything," Cassie said the moment the door clicked shut.

If it were anyone else, you wouldn't have been in the mood to talk about the mess that was currently your life, but you've always been able to talk about anything with your sister. You trusted each other implicitly and there was no judgement, no matter if you had cheated on a test or gotten drunk during prom, you told each other everything.

So you did. You told her how for months, you felt like something was off with Will. How he would stay out late and say it was for work, but none of his work friends ever posted about going anywhere those nights on social media. He grew more distant and you tried to ignore your paranoia, but when he collapsed into bed one night, too out of it to wash up, and you saw the lipstick on his neck the next morning, you lost it. He hardly even tried to explain himself, barely even attempted to lie, and you began to think maybe he wanted to get caught. Maybe he wanted you to do the dirty work and end things so he didn't have to. Fucking coward.

"What a piece of shit. I never liked him," Cassie said when you were finished. "He acted like he was so much better than everyone when he was here, do you remember the comments he made about the wine mom had? It was so fucking rude."

"Yeah, I know," you agreed.

"So why were you even with him?"

"We had been together since college, Cas," you said, exasperated. "I knew him before he was like that. He used to be sweet and fun. Then he got that finance job and met all those assholes and he became just like them."

"Well, I'm just glad you didn't end up married before finding out what he's really like," she said, shifting her weight on the couch with her hand cupping her small stomach. "That would have been a huge mess."

"It's still a huge mess, I have no where to live now, and I can only couch surf for so long," you said, burying your face in your hands.

"You'll figure it out, Buck. I'll help you look for places online while you're here. Maybe set up some appointments so you can tour them when you get back."

"Thanks," you said, giving her a weak smile. "That would actually be great."

"Now, on to more important things," your sister said, slapping her palms against her knees to stand.

"Baby names?" you asked.

"No! Let's figure out what you'll wear to the party tomorrow," she said, wiggling her eyebrows. "I wanna look through all your fancy designer clothes."

You giggled and stood to join her.

"Fine, but I'm still dropping baby names while you look," you replied.

After spending a majority of the next day helping your parents decorate and prepare food for the party, you finally were able to excuse yourself to shower and get ready. Cassie had picked out a Ralph Lauren lace cocktail dress that Will had bought for your birthday last year. You slipped it on, running your hands over the fabric as you adjusted the dress in the mirror. Just because he bought it didn't mean you couldn't wear it again. You snatched the glass of wine from your dresser and took a sip, trying to push the thought of him from your head as you made your way downstairs.

Cassie and Josh were already in the kitchen, munching on appetizers and chatting with your parents. Cassie let out a low whistle when you entered the room. You waved her off and gave Josh a big hug and kiss on the cheek.

"Good to see you," you told him with a smile. "All ready for the baby?"

"Getting there," Josh replied, wrapping an arm around Cassie's waist. You tried to ignore the ugly, jealous pit in your stomach as he told you how the nursery was coming along. You wasted so many years of your life on Will. Your sister was already married and starting a family, and here you were, basically homeless and starting over. Pathetic.

Family friends slowly began to trickle into the house, luckily being whisked away by your parents to give them a tour after you meekly greeted them and hid back in the kitchen. As more and more people arrived, you began to wonder how your parents kept so many close friends when you barely had a handful back in New York.

A few kids raced by you in the kitchen as you made your way to the bar to refill your wine. Even though it was loud, you could still hear your dad's booming voice as he regaled a friend with a fishing story. You wandered around a bit, trying to find Cassie and Josh so you didn't look out of place, but stopped dead in your tracks when you saw them chatting with Mr. Tanner and his son, Troy, backing away before they could see you. Troy used to have the biggest crush on you when you were kids. If he found out you were single, you wouldn't be able to shake him all night.

You eventually found yourself alone, back in front of the snacks. You picked at the chips on your plate, not really interested in eating but hoping to avoid any awkward conversations, so you kept your eyes down, scrolling mindlessly on your phone. Apparently, it wasn't good enough because you felt someone sidle up next to you.

"Those any good?" a deep, unfamiliar drawl spoke from your side. You looked up to find the softest pair of brown eyes you've ever seen on a man. Blinking, you took a moment as your gaze raked over his patchy beard and the dark, tousled curls on his head. They looked so soft, you had to resist the urge to reach out and touch them. What was wrong with you?

"Huh?" you managed to squeak out after you realized you had waited too long to reply. Idiot.

"The, uh, chips," he said, pointing at your plate before rubbing the back of his neck.

"Oh!" you said, looking at your plate, completely forgetting you even had it. "Yeah, they're alright."

He nodded and glanced around the room, unsure of what to say next. He cleared his throat and tried again.

"How do you know Paul and Martha?"

Distracted, you watched as he crossed his arms over his broad chest, stretching the fabric of his red flannel over his shoulders, pulling the material taught. You had to remind yourself to pay attention and stop gawking at this man like he was a piece of meat. Jesus, maybe you should stop drinking.

"They're my parents," you said after a moment, your eyes flicking across the room, finding them with a group of their friends with your dad's arm wrapped around your mom's shoulder as she giggled and gazed up at him adoringly.

"Oh, you're Cassie," the man said, his eyes dropping from your face to your stomach, and you swore you saw a glimmer of disappointment.

"No!" you said quickly, your hand subconsciously resting on your midsection. "That's my sister, I'm their other daughter." You told him your name and briefly explained you lived in New York and were just visiting for the holidays.

"They must be real happy, havin' you home for so long," he replied, and you shrugged.

"Yeah, it's been a while since I've come home for a visit. I was feeling pretty bad about that," you said, choosing to leave out the biggest reason you were there. This stranger didn't need to be burdened with your love life drama. "Besides, they were so excited to show off the new house," you continued, waving your arm around the room.

"Took us long enough, but it finally came together," he replied with a smile.

"Oh! You must be Joel," you said, realization finally dawning on you.

"Yeah, sorry," he said, shaking his head and stretching out his arm. "That was rude of me, don't know what I was thinkin'." His cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you shook his hand.

"My parents always have such wonderful things to say about you. The house is beautiful, I was blown away when I first saw it," you told him. "I especially love the little details on the cabinets."

"Thanks," he said with a soft smile, averting his gaze to look at the cabinet behind you. "I actually did that myself. It's kind of a hobby of mine. Closest to art I'll ever get, I guess."

"I don't think it's just 'close' to art, I think it is art. It's stunning," you told him, running your fingertips over the intricate floral design. "You're very talented."

"Well, thank you," he said sheepishly, rubbing his beard to hide his smile. You could see the blush creeping up his neck and you bit your lip with a grin, turning your head to try to give him a moment. Were you making him nervous? He was painfully good looking, could this guy actually be into you? Were you even interested? The break up was still so fresh and it had been so long since you've dated anyone besides Will, you hadn't even considered it yet.

"So, how long have you worked in construction?" you asked after a minute, discarding your plate on the counter to give him your full attention.

"Oh, my whole life. Me and my brother started the business when we were in our twenties. Only thing we were any good at, and luckily it pays the bills," he told you with a shrug, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. "What do you-"

Joel's question was cut off by a young girl with curly brown hair in a red velvet dress bouncing up to him.

"Dad! Can Uncle Tommy take me outside so we can look at the pool?" she asked. Dad? You looked down when he pulled his hands out of his pockets, palming one of the girl's shoulders to quiet her down, and noticed the gold wedding band. Of fucking course.

"The pool? Sarah, it's freezin' out," Joel said, and she grinned.

"I'm not going in, Dad, I just wanna see," she said, rolling her eyes. She glanced over, noticing you for the first time, and smiled. "I really like your dress," she said.

"Thank you," you said, running your hand down the fabric. "I like yours, too."

"Uh, yeah, that's fine. Just make sure Uncle Tommy sticks with you, alright?" Joel relented, and she clapped her hands gleefully before running off again.

"She's cute, how old is she?" you asked him, looking around the room to see if Sarah had run back to a woman who could be Joel's wife.

"She's sixteen," he said, eyeing you carefully. He hadn't thought this far ahead and hoped he wasn't scaring you off.

You turned to him, startled, having guessed she was younger.

"You must have had her young," you said, the words slipping out before you could catch them. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean that like it sounded-"

"No, it's alright," he said with a chuckle. "I did. I'm forty."

You nodded and took a sip from your glass, letting your eyes drift away, rethinking your conversation. Maybe you misread him and he was just being friendly. There was no way he would be flirting with you at a party with his kid right there. But then he cleared his throat, drawing your attention back to him.

"Listen, I hope I'm not bein' too forward, but are you here with anyone?"

You raised your eyebrows at him over your glass. There was no misreading that. Blinking rapidly, you tried to formulate a reply that wouldn't cause a scene. Was he seriously hitting on you with a ring on his finger? You put your glass down on the counter and opened your mouth to reply when your sister's voice interrupted you.

"Bucket! Come here, you remember Troy, right?"

You cringed, at both the nickname and the person in question, before slowly turning your body towards her and forcing a fake smile.

"Of course. How are you?" you said with a hug.

"Doing great, just got a new job with a law firm downtown," Troy said, rubbing his sweaty palms on his jeans and shifting his weight nervously. He began to ramble about his new job as your sister introduced herself to Joel behind you. You resisted the urge to strangle her, reminding yourself she was carrying your baby niece or nephew and that you'll have to wait until after she gave birth to kill her. She knew you couldn't stand Troy, but she probably couldn't get rid of him, either.

You stood there, draining your wine glass while he prattled on for the next twenty minutes. By the time Troy's dad walked over and ushered him away, Joel was nowhere to be found.

Probably for the best, anyway. You were getting really sick and tired of only attracting unfaithful men.

You hadn't considered how annoying it would be to have your parents hovering around you all the time, worried that you were slipping into a depression and trying to get you to join them on activities outside the house. After you felt forced to go sledding with them the day before, you decided to make yourself scarce today, which is why you found yourself at the mall in downtown Austin browsing for a Christmas gift for your future niece or nephew.

As you were looking through a storefront window, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. Taking it out, you saw a text from a friend back home.

Sydney: You'll never guess who i just bumped into

You were typing out your response, chin tucked into your chest, when you felt someone knock into you. Startled, you looked up only to lock eyes with Joel the contractor.

"Oh!" you managed to stammer out. His deep brown eyes lit up and a warm smile spread across his face when he looked up and recognized you.

"Sorry, wasn't payin' attention," he said. "How, uh, how are you?"

"Good," you said, nodding and clutching your phone in your hand. "You?"

"Good. Was actually just thinkin' about you," he admitted, looking down and shifting the bag he was carrying from one hand to the other. "Never got to say goodbye to you the other night."

"Yeah, it was pretty crowded. I didn't realize my parents were so popular," you joked. "Is Sarah with you?"

"No, she's in school," he replied, and you bumped the heel of your hand against your forehead, rolling your eyes. Of course she was, it's the middle of the day.

"Duh," you said quietly, finding it hard to hold his gaze without getting butterflies, so you looked away.

"So, uh, I hope this doesn't sound creepy, but I asked your sister if you were seein' anyone the other night," he began, and you felt your face instantly heat up. Why didn't Cassie warn you?? "-was wonderin' if I could get your number."

"Huh?" you asked, your eyes widening as you tried to control your breathing. You glanced down at his hand again when he looked away and saw he was definitely wearing a ring.

"Thought we could go out sometime? If you're interested?" he asked, his own nerves wreaking havoc as he shifted his weight and chewed on the inside of his cheek, praying his face wasn't as red as it felt.

"Are you serious?" you asked him, narrowing your eyes. The audacity of some men!

"'Course I'm serious," he said with a nervous smile. "Thought we hit it off the other night-"

"Joel, listen. I'm not going to say what I'm really thinking for the sake of my parents and everything you did for them, but I am not interested in dating married men," you said with a scowl. He frowned, giving you a confused look before you turned on your heel and stormed away, joining the crowd of Christmas shoppers bustling by.

He looked down at his hand, making a tight fist before swiveling his head around, trying to locate you in the crowd before he lost you.

"Hey, wait!" he called out, pushing past clusters of people as he jogged to try and keep up with you. He called out your name as he got closer. You stopped suddenly but didn't turn around, causing surprised shoppers to have to redirect at the last minute to avoid running into you.

"Hey, I'm sorry-"

"You should apologize to your wife!" you said loudly, causing a few people to turn their heads in your direction as they walked past. Joel looked around nervously.

"I'm not married," he clarified quietly. You looked down at his hand again and he flexed his fingers.

"Can we get a coffee or somethin'? And I'll explain," he begged, his chest rising and falling rapidly with each second that passed as you considered your answer. "Please."

"Fine," you agreed, and his face relaxed once again.

You sat down at a coffee shop within Barnes and Noble as Joel ordered you both something to drink. As you watched him at the counter, you admired his long legs and broad shoulders underneath his brown coat and wondered what possible excuse he was going to come up with.

Oh my god, what if she died?

You rubbed your eyes, hoping you didn't just insult a widower in the middle of a crowded mall.

Joel joined you at the table and set your coffee down in front of you with a smile.

"Thank you," you said softly, fiddling with the cup and avoiding his eyes as he shrugged his coat off, revealing a navy blue V-neck sweater underneath. Your eyes drifted to the small patch of bare chest that was exposed and your stomach clenched. Swallowing hard, you forced yourself to meet his gaze, but he was staring down at his ring finger.

"I'm not married anymore, just wanna make that crystal clear," he began, still staring at his ring.

"Okay," you said slowly, waiting for him to continue. He sighed.

"We've been divorced for a few years now," he said, finally looking at you. "It was... hard. Really hard. I, uh," he scratched his beard as he struggled to find the words. "I've had a tough time lettin' go. Thought for a while we might get back together, so I didn't take it off. Then I guess I just got so used to it, I never thought... I'm sorry, I sound like a mess," he said with a sad smile.

"It's alright, I think I understand," you told him, and he looked at you with renewed optimism, encouraged to continue.

"I never took it off because I never thought 'bout askin' anyone out til now," he said. "Didn't realize how that would come across, you just took me by surprise that night and I couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout you."

You blushed and looked down at your coffee, trying to hide your smile behind your cup, but he saw it and grinned.

"Are you still in love with her?" you asked him. You didn't want to get wrapped up in something that would end up hurting you in the end.

"No," he said firmly. "I mean, I'll always care for her. She gave me Sarah, how could I not? But I'm not in love with her anymore."

You nodded as you absorbed his words, glancing around the little coffee shop before dragging your eyes back to his. He was looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to ask anything else that would make you comfortable with accepting a date from him.

"Well, thank you for being honest with me, but I'm not sure I'm ready for a relationship just yet."

Joel tried to hide the disappointment in his face as he nodded in understanding. The first time in five years he asked someone out and he got shot down.

"It's not you," you clarified. "It's bad timing. I just got out of a really long term relationship. Well, I was actually engaged, and I caught him cheating," you explained with a wince, not expecting to bring this up today. "Probably why I was so sensitive about the wedding ring," you said with a half smirk. He nodded quietly and looked down at the ring on his hand, twisting the metal around with the pad of his thumb as you spoke.

"Sounds like we've both been through a tough time," he murmured, and you quietly agreed.

You sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping your coffees and trying to figure out how to end this awkward interaction without making things worse. You were going to lie about having plans so you could leave when he suddenly spoke up.

"No pressure, but, uh, what if we just went on one very casual date?" He looked at you with those soft, brown eyes and you felt your resolve crumbling. "Sounds like we could both use some practice. You're leavin' at the end of the month anyway. Could just be fun, help get us both back out there."

You paused, not expecting that. He had a good point. It's been so long since you've gone on a date with anyone, and it sounded like he was just as rusty. Besides, what else would you be doing with your time over the next three weeks?

"Okay," you agreed softly. He raised his eyebrows in surprise, parting his lips slightly as he straightened up in his chair.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you said with a grin. "Why not?"

Early the next morning, you heard your phone buzz on the nightstand next to your bed. With a groan, you cracked an eye open to look at the time, then reached for your phone.

"7:30? Who the hell..." you grumbled, squinting at the bright screen, your eyes widening when you saw Joel's name. You sat up in bed, fully awake now, and slid the notification over to open the text.

Joel Miller: Morning. Are you free tonight?

You grinned, flicking on your light so you could see better to respond, then you paused. Should you make him wait before replying? Would you look too desperate if you answered right away?

You shrugged, deciding to answer him. It was casual, you both knew it wouldn't go anywhere, so who cares how it looked?

You: Good morning, you're up early! And yes, what did you have in mind?

You chewed your thumb nail as you waited for his answer.

Joel Miller: This is nothing, I've been up since 5. For some reason, clients expect me to be at job sites early. How about ice skating?

You giggled and tapped out a reply.

You: I'd love to!

Joel Miller: Great - I'll pick you up at 7

Realizing you forgot to reply to Sydney the day before, you switched messages and shot her a quick answer before sliding back down under the covers to scroll on your phone.

You resisted the urge as long as you could - a whole fifteen minutes - before you typed Joel's name into Facebook. His name popped up with two mutual friends and you rolled your eyes. Of course your parents were friends with him. Clicking on his name, you scrolled down his page, tapping through photos of him and Sarah that looked out of date. He didn't seem like the type to update social media often, and his page reflected that hunch. He didn't have many pictures so it didn't take long until you scrolled all the way to the end, presumably his first photo from when he joined. It was a grainy picture of him with a huge smile and his arm slung around a woman with dark, curly hair, just like Sarah's.

She was pretty, you couldn't deny that, and you vaguely wondered why they broke up. He made it sound like he didn't want a divorce, and you figured he would have mentioned cheating since you brought it up.

You closed the app. If Joel wanted to tell you, he would.

Dragging yourself out of bed, you made your way downstairs on the hunt for coffee. Pouring yourself a cup from the machine, you burrowed into the couch, wrapping yourself in a blanket as you waited for your coffee to cool down and flipped through the various streaming services your parents subscribed to.

"Hey Buck, you're up early," your dad said as he descended the stairs and headed to the coffee.

"Hey, Dad," you said, taking a sip from your mug and wincing as you burned your tongue.

"What're you up to today? You wanna come to dinner with your mom and me?"

"Actually, I have a date," you told him, bracing for the reaction.

"Whoa-ho! Been here not even a week and you got yourself a date? Don't tell me... Troy?" he asked with a big grin, sitting down at the other end of the couch.

"Ew, no!" you said, scrunching your nose. "It's, um, Joel," you said quickly, taking another sip from your mug.

"Our contractor?" he asked incredulously.

"Yeah, we met at the party," you told him. "Then I ran into him at the mall."

"Ran into who at the mall?" you heard Cassie's voice from down the hall.

"When did you get here?" you asked as she rounded the corner and gazed at your coffee enviously.

"Just now. Who did you see at the mall?"

"Joel," you said, glaring at her. "Got something to tell me about that?"

"Oh, yeah," she said, wiggling her eyebrows. "He was asking about you at the party. I made sure to let him know you were single."

"Yeah, he told me, thanks for the heads up, by the way," you said. "We're going out tonight."

"I didn't realize he was single, I just assumed he was married because he's always got Sarah around," your dad said, beginning to zone out to the movie that was on the TV.

"He's single," was all you said, picking your phone back up.

"He's cute," Cassie said, and you blushed. "I'm glad you said yes, mom and dad already love him, so he'll fit right in."

"I don't even live here. It's a casual thing, we're just hanging out," you told her.

"Yeah, okay," she said, giving you a wink. You rolled your eyes and pinched her as you passed by.

"I'm going to shower, then maybe you can help me pick out something to wear," you told her over your shoulder, walking back upstairs.

Joel arrived at your parents' house promptly at 7, just as he promised. He pulled into the driveway, checking his hair in the review mirror quickly before sliding out of his truck and making his way up the porch. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this nervous as he glanced down a the green flannel he wore, praying he didn't miss a button or a stain. He was with his ex for so long that he could barely remember a time when he was nervous around her.

But with you, he felt the butterflies the moment he saw you at the party. You didn't notice him at first, but he saw you enter the living room and freeze in the doorway, your eyes locked on someone across the room before backing out the way you came, as if you were looking to avoid them. He couldn't catch who it was, having hardly known more than five people in the whole house, but he felt compelled to follow you. To see if you were maybe looking for a husband or boyfriend. But when he saw you alone in the kitchen, staring down at your phone, he couldn't stop himself from saying something to you.

Joel never did things like that. He always kept to himself, very quiet and reserved. He was content with his work during the day and hanging out with Sarah at night.

For the most part, he was happy. It was only at night when the loneliness crept up, when he tucked himself into his big, cold bed and tried his best to fall asleep as fast as he could, so he wouldn't lay there wishing someone who cared for him was just in the bathroom washing up.

Tommy had been encouraging him to get back out there, always offering to watch Sarah if he caught Joel looking a little too long at a waitress or a neighbor. Sarah was old enough to be on her own for a few hours, but he still asked Tommy to stop by, anyway. Maybe part of him wanted his brother to know that he was going on a date, if only so he would stop trying to set him up all the time with women he had no interest in.

Joel reached out to ring the doorbell, cringing when he noticed it was one of those camera doorbells. Paul must have installed it after the house was finished. He heard heavy footsteps on the other side of the door and held his breath, realizing he hadn't thought about your dad's reaction to your date.

Paul swung the door open, greeting Joel with a deep scowl as he leaned up against the doorframe.

"What's up, Joel?" he asked. Joel cleared his throat.

"Hey, Paul. I'm here to pick up your daughter," Joel replied, bracing himself. Paul just stared at him, breathing deeply as he looked Joel up and down. Joel wasn't a small man, but Paul had at least sixty pounds on him. He tended to have an intimidating look until you got to know him.

"Oh, yeah? For what?" Paul asked, clenching his jaw. Joel froze, wondering if there was a reason you didn't tell your parents about tonight, unsure what to say. Finally, Paul's face broke into a huge smile as he began to crack up, doubling over at the waist.

"I'm sorry, Joel, I had to," he wheezed, standing back up and clapping Joel on the shoulder. "Couldn't help myself. Come on in," he said, still laughing as he led Joel down the hall and towards the kitchen.

"Jesus, Paul, scared the shit outta me," Joel admitted, his heart racing as he rubbed his forehead.

"Beer?" Paul asked, and Joel shook his head.

"No thanks, I'm drivin'," he replied, and Paul raised his eyebrows with a nod.

"Good man, passed the first test," he said with a wink as he twisted open a beer for himself. "Hey, uh, in all seriousness, I just wanna talk with you before she comes down."

"Yeah, 'course," Joel replied, leaning up against the counter.

"I ain't sure what she's told you about the asshole she was with before, but he really hurt her. Now, I know it ain't got nothin' to do with you, what's in the past is in the past," he said. "But just keep that in mind, will you? I can't stand seein' my little girl hurt like that again."

Joel nodded solemnly, understanding completely.

"I ain't like that, I'll be respectful, I promise," Joel replied. "Besides, we both know she's goin' back to New York in a few weeks. We're just gettin' to know each other, is all."

"Yeah, she said the same thing to her sister earlier, but then she spent all damn day on the phone, pickin' out an outfit and gettin' herself ready," Paul said with a sigh. "I'm just sayin', be careful with her."

Joel felt a flutter in his chest and tried to hide his smile when he found out you had been thinking about him all day. He was glad he wasn't the only one.

"I hope you weren't waiting long," you told Joel as he backed out of your driveway.

"Not at all," he said with a smirk. "You're worth the wait. You look beautiful." He glanced down again at the light pink sweater with a small designer logo he was unfamiliar with in the corner.

You blushed and bit your lip, quietly thanking him and trying to hide your reaction behind your scarf, but he saw it. He always does.

Now that he knew you were looking forward to this date just as much as he was, he felt a little more confident.

"Did you have a good day?" he asked, giving you a sideways glance as he merged his truck into traffic.

"Yeah, did you?"

"It was alright," he said, slowing the truck down at a stop light. He turned to face you now. "Couldn't wait to see you, though."

You turned a darker shade of pink and he smiled, pleased to see that he could elicit that reaction from you, the same way you do to him.

"So, ice skating?" you said, trying to take the heat off of you. You looked at his hands on the steering wheel, noticing he made sure to take his ring off.

"Yeah," he said, pressing his foot on the gas as the light changed. "Thought you could teach me somethin'."

"Teach you? How do you know if I can even skate?" you asked teasingly.

"Just a hunch. Was I right?" he replied, his mouth turning up into a half smirk. You giggled and he felt his stomach tighten. He needed to hear that again.

"Yeah, you were right," you relented. He pulled his lower lip between his teeth and slapped the steering wheel in victory, making you giggle again, and his chest filled with warmth at the sound.

"Where's Sarah tonight?" you asked him as he pulled into a parking spot at the skating rink.

"My brother's watchin' her," he replied, disappointed that you got out of the truck so quickly. He had planned on opening the door for you.

"Does she like to ice skate?" you questioned as he led you inside to the counter to rent your skates.

"Oh, of course she does. But I usually sit it out and just watch her have fun," he said, picking up your rentals and heading over to a bench.

"You should have brought her, I wouldn't have minded."

"We don't have to talk 'bout her, you know," he said quicky, and your fingers froze over your laces.

"Why wouldn't we talk about her? She's your daughter," you asked slowly, straightening back up to look at him.

"No, I know. What I mean is, I know it ain't every woman's fantasy to go out with a single dad and all the baggage that comes with that. So, if you don't wanna talk about her, I get it," he said, casting his eyes down as he focused on tying his laces. You reached out a hand and gently placed it on top of his, immediately making him freeze at your touch.

"She's part of your life, so I want to hear about her. You shouldn't think like that, Joel. It's really not a dealbreaker for most women," you assured him, gently rubbing your thumb over his knuckles, his eyes glued to your hand as he listened. "And if it is, fuck 'em."

His eyes snapped up to yours now, then a slow smile spread across his face.

"Okay," he said softly, and you smiled, pulling your hand back, leaving him wanting more.

"Besides," you said, standing up on your skates as you made your way to the rink. "You have no idea what kind of fantasies I have."

You turned to give him a wink as you effortlessly stepped out onto the ice, holding out your hands encouragingly for him to follow. It was a miracle he was able to move his legs after that comment, but he managed just because he knew he would feel your warm hands on his again.

Joel was a quick study. He was nervous at first, you could tell that he didn't want to embarrass himself, but he did surprisingly good. Especially considering how crowded the ice rink was and how fast people were skating by. After about half an hour, he was able to skate - albeit, slowly - around the rink next to you without any assistance. Part of you wondered if he pretended to need more help than he really did just so it would make you feel good.

"So, anyway, that's basically what I do for work. It's pretty boring," you said with a sigh.

"Not boring. Marketing in New York City sounds like a dream," he replied.

"Yeah, except I work on all the behind the scenes stuff. It's not really as fun as it sounds," you admitted, not missing work in the slightest since you've been back in Texas.

"Well, d'you work with some fun people, at least?"

You paused, considering his question for a moment, before shaking your head with a dry laugh.

"Not really," you said, but he still tried to help you find a reason why you would put up with it.

"You were able to take off almost a whole month, that's pretty great. Not many places'll let you do that, can't be that bad," he offered, and you scoffed.

"It's the time I saved up for the wedding I was supposed to have," you told him sadly, and he groaned.

"I'm knockin' it outta the park tonight, ain't I?" he said, rubbing his face before almost losing his balance. You giggled and he couldn't stop the huge grin that plastered itself across his face.

"It's fine, you didn't know," you said, waving him off. And for the first time, you really didn't mind talking about it. Something about him made it easier.

"What'dya say we get some hot chocolate?" Joel asked, jutting his chin towards the vendor where you first came in.

"Yeah, that sounds great," you replied. Joel turned towards the exit without looking when a teenage boy, who was speed skating around the rink trying to impress a girl, smacked right into him, sending him flying backwards on the ice.

"Joel!" you exclaimed, rushing to his side. He groaned, rubbing the back of his head.

"Hey, why don't you watch it!" you yelled angrily at the teenager, who had managed to only stumble a bit upon impact.

"Sorry, man," the kid mumbled before taking off.

"I'm gonna kick his ass," you said, about to stand up to go after him, but Joel reached up to grip your arms, holding you in place.

"I'm fine, sweetheart," he said with a chuckle. Sweetheart. Your heart skipped a beat at the term.

"Are you sure?" you asked, your brow furrowed with concern.

"Yeah, just gimme a hand," he said, and you stood to give his arm a firm yank, allowing him to stand.

"Let's get you off the ice," you told him, ushering him carefully to the exit and finding a bench.

"Does your head hurt?" you asked, sitting down next to him. Your fingers reached up to graze the back of his head.

"No," he said breathlessly, staring at you as you continued to study him for any injury. God, you were so beautiful, he couldn't force himself to look away.

"That's good. How about your vision?" you pressed, still so focused on the fall and not seeing the way he was looking at you. But when you finally locked your eyes on his, your breath caught in your throat.

All the laughter and playful yelling surrounding you faded. You couldn't look away from his heated gaze, his deep brown eyes boring into yours so intensely, you almost forgot to blink. He brought his hand up to gently cradle the side of your face, his calloused palm meeting your soft skin. Your lips parted to accommodate your sudden need for more oxygen, and his gaze fell to your mouth.

"Joel," you whispered, and the way his name sounded coming from you was so damn sweet, it almost did him in.

"Yeah?" he whispered back, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Kiss me."

He didn't need to be told twice.

He leaned forward, eyes sliding shut and slotting his lips against yours, deeply breathing in your scent so he could remember it tomorrow. He was determined to commit every second to memory, knowing that by morning he would be aching for you, aching for this. Against his better judgement, he pressed himself into your lips harder, unsure if he will ever get to feel like this again when you inevitably came to your senses. The idea of this feeling being taken away from him spurred him on, desperate and eager for every second you were willing to give him.

Your hand came up to the back of his neck, holding him against you as his lips massaged yours tenderly. You inched closer to him on the bench so you could tuck yourself into his broad chest. He was so warm and soft and strong that it was making you dizzy. Your fingertips stroked the curls at the base of his neck as you tentatively opened your mouth just enough to suck his lower lip between yours. The quiet noise he made when you did that made your insides clench with need, and against all odds, you felt yourself falling, completely losing yourself in him and the moment.

A startling voice over the loudspeaker announcing that the rink was closing in fifteen minutes finally snapped you out of it. You both pulled back but kept your foreheads pressed together as the world around you slowly melted back into focus. His hand still cupped your face and he lifted his thumb to gently trace your swollen lips.

"I should take you home," he murmured. At first, your stomach flipped, thinking he meant his home, but you realized he wasn't that type and he meant your parents' house.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, and you sat back reluctantly, breaking away. His hand dropped from your face to the hand in your lap, his thick fingers wrapping around yours for a moment as he collected himself with a deep breath.

Finally, he forced himself to stand, still clutching your hand and helping you up. You glanced down at the floor and smirked.

"We should probably take our skates off," you said, and he chuckled, breaking the tension and sitting back down, his hand reluctantly letting go of yours to undo his laces.

After you turned in your rentals, his hand quickly found yours again, unwilling or unable to let you go as he led you back to his truck, this time making sure to open the car door for you. Thanking him quietly, you jumped up into the cab and watched him round the front of the car, running a hand through his hair and sucking in deep breath.

You grinned and bit your lip as he started the truck, swinging his arm around to grip your headrest and twisting his body to back out of the spot. It took everything in you not to scoot across the seat and tuck yourself into his side.

He let his arm drop loosely on the seat in between you as he drove down the street, one hand on the steering wheel. Your fingers inched forward, sliding your palm underneath his hand, lacing your fingers together. The corners of his mouth tugged into a smile and you drove in a comfortable silence, your hands intertwined the whole time, until he pulled into your driveway and cut the engine.

You sighed as you stared at the darkened house, already missing him and he wasn't even gone yet. He peered over at you, trying to think of a way to prolong the date, but aside from the obvious, which he wasn't going to do just yet, he was coming up empty.

"Lemme walk you up," he said finally, and you nodded, reaching for the handle of the door but he stopped you. You furrowed your brow, confused, until you watched him rush over to open the door, and you grinned, taking his hand so you could slide out of the seat.

You stared at the ground as he led you up the path to the porch, your heart pounding in your ears. You weren't sure what you had been expecting tonight, but it definitely wasn't this feeling. This was so much more.

"Well, thank you for tonight," you said as you reached the door, turning around to look up at him through your lashes. "I had a really good time."

"Yeah, me too," he said, his soft, brown eyes trailing over your face, locking away every little detail. Unable to resist, he stepped forward, his rough hand skimming around to the back of your neck. He tilted your face up, ducking down slightly to meet you halfway and brushed his lips gently over yours.

Your hands flew up to grip the collar of his flannel, keeping him pressed against you as you leaned against the front door. God, for someone who claimed to be rusty, he was a really good kisser. He was gentle and slow and it took your breath away both times. You knew you were getting in over your head, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. All you could think about was him and how badly you wanted more.

Nervously, you opened your mouth and flicked your tongue against his plush lips. He responded by parting his lips and allowing your tongue to dance with his own, his mouth applying more pressure than before as the heat flared between you.

Before you could stop it, a soft moan rumbled from your throat, causing him to pull back, panting slightly as his gaze flickered between your eyes. You gazed up at him, eyes dark and desperate, your fingers still gripping the fabric of his shirt tightly.

You weren't sure what he was searching for, but after a moment he seemed to find it because his mouth came crashing down on yours once again, this time with more yearning and desire. His tongue probed inside your mouth, licking past your teeth and in the back of your mind you realized he tasted faintly of mint and you wondered when on earth he popped a mint into his mouth but it didn't matter. Nothing else mattered except the two of you in that moment, each seeking something within the other that you never expected to find.

His chest ached knowing he would have to stop kissing you soon, or else he would never leave. He always considered himself a strong man, after everything he had been through, how could he not? But something about you made him realize he wasn't nearly as strong as he thought. Your lips were so soft compared to his, so sweet and perfect that it made him want to cry because in that moment, he knew he could never let you go.

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #tlou hbo #the last of us hbo #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel x reader #joel x reader smut #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #pedro pascal #the last of us game #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #hallmark christmas movies #hallmark #christmas #joel miller christmas

[norrizzandpia]

Heyo! I’m totally obsessed with your writing at the moment, can’t put my phone down! Have you seen the video of Mila watching Lando on tv and calling him “lala”? Was wondering if you could write a fic with that in it?

I have had an idea for this specific video sitting in my head FOR AGES

Lala (LN4)

Summary: When Y/n meets Lando’s family for the first time, Lando warns her about his niece who glues to his side whenever he’s around. What she isn’t expecting, however, is the heart melting nicknames he has been given. It prompts some interesting confessions.

Warnings: none

“Baby, one more thing before we go in.” Lando murmured from beside his girlfriend. His hand in wrapped in hers and she fidgeted with his fingers, nervous for the moments that were about to ensue.

Her head tilted up to look at him, “Yeah?”

A small smile graced his face and his eyes softened as he began, “My niece, Mila, likes to stick by me whenever I’m around. I don’t know how much time we’ll get alone during the next few hours.”

Y/n giggled, “Lan, that’s fine. That’s sweet anyway, means you’re good with kids.”

She whispered the last part, eyeing him suspiciously before he whispered an i love you and kissed her temple. His hand knocked against the slab of wood in front of them, anxiety heightening as Y/n began to hear footsteps approaching.

Cisca appeared, bright face and warmness to her that made Y/n feel immediately welcomed.

“Oh, how nice it is to meet you! Lando never stops talking about you!” She yelled, throwing her arms around the girl and rubbing her back lovingly.

Lando blushed as Y/n laughed, “What? There’s a lot to brag about.”

Y/n leaned into him, hand wrapped around his arm as they stepped through the threshold, “That’s sweet, Lando.”

“You’re swee-” He began, but is interrupted by the rapid beatings of little footsteps. His brother and his sister-in-law followed close behind the little girl who rounded the corner with loud giggles.

“Lala!! Lalalala!!” She screeched, arms open as she made grabby hands at Lando from her stance in front of him. Y/n’s brain began catching up with the moment, the nickname sinking in and her heart warming at the sentiment.

Lando picked Mila up, kissing her cheeks and tickling her sides lightly as he laughed with her. The image is something Y/n never wants to forget, Lando in his true element with his favorite people.

Oliver and Savannah stop, looking lovingly at Lando and their daughter, before turning their attention to his girlfriend, “Hi, it’s so great to finally meet you!”

Y/n is still entranced by the feelings stirring in her tummy to genuinely put all her thoughts into a conversation between the couple, “It’s nice to meet you as well!”

A beat passes before Y/n asks, “Did she just call Lando Lala?”

Oliver chuckles, “Yeah. She can’t pronounce his name, so it’s always been Lala.”

Lando meets Y/n’s eye, a twinkle in them he had never seen before, “Cute, right?”

Y/n’s jaw drops, “Cute? Oh my god, it’s adorable!”

The four laugh together before Savannah steals Mila away, whines emitting from the little girl in the wake of being removed from Lando’s arms. Alone in the foyer, Lando turns to Y/n, “She made me realize I think I could do the whole dad thing.”

Y/n grins, “At this point, after witnessing that, I’m going to need you to do the whole dad thing.”

Lando throws his head back as he laughs. Pulling her into him by the waist and kissing her forehead, “Yeah? Kids? A year into our relationship?”

She smacks his chest, “Not now, love. But… in a few years…” She fixes the buttons on his shirt, “Probably.”

His hand over one side of her face, Lando kisses her hair forcefully, “Good. I love you too much not to experience that with you.”

Infamous giggling returns and Savannah yelling for Mila creates new chaos as the girl rounds the same corner once more, waddling quickly to her favorite uncle. When she gets to him, Lando is already waiting, knelt down, for her with his arms outstretched.

“Lala!” She screams again and Y/n is almost ready to tell Lando she wants one now.

Lando’s arms smother Mila as he kisses her head, shaking his head at Savannah when she tries to take her child.

“I got her, it’s fine.” He says, standing up once more.

Savannah tilts her head, “You sure?”

Lando nods softly with a smile, feeling Mila rest her head on his shoulder, “Yeah, I only get to see her so often anyway.”

Savannah shrugs, leaving the room. Lando moves to get to the living room where the rest of his family is, but Y/n stops him for a moment.

Mila’s eyes are closing, Y/n can see, so she speaks in a whisper, “Thank you for letting me meet your family. I love seeing you like this, Lan.”

His eyebrows furrow, “Seeing me like what?”

She kisses the side of his mouth, careful of the sleeping girl in his arms, “Just seeing you right where you belong. Where you’re most comfortable. This is your home, I’m just happy you’re letting me into it.”

Lando coos, “Baby, you are very quickly becoming my home.”

#mclaren #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagines #lando norris fic #lando x reader #lando imagine #lando norris #lando norris x you #lando norris edit #lando norris blurb #lando norris fanfiction #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 x you #ln4 fluff #ln4 x y/n

[prod-ddeonu]

POOL PARTY (l.hs)

MDNI! MDNI! MDNI!

PAIRING: brother's best friend! Heeseung x fem! reader

WC: ~7.3k (whoops my bad)

CW/TW: older brother's best friend, smut (MDNI, 18+) , 1% angst, family problems, fluff, degrading + praise (receiving), oral (both), fingering (receiving), protected (BE SAFE), choking (receiving), spit, hickeys, hee calls reader a slut/whore like twice, public sex/outdoor sex, drinking, assault (if you squint), jealous heeseung, he kind of has a corruption kink and size kink (?), inexperienced reader, lmk if I missed anything!

SUMMARY: Blaring music, colorful lights, free alcohol, horny girls, cool water: pool parties were Lee Heeseung's favorite type of party. When you heard that your older brother, Jake, was throwing one in your back yard for Heeseung's birthday, you took your chance to have Heeseung finally notice you. Luckily for you, Heeseung knew your plan; and two can play that game.

FEATURING: Taehyun of TXT, enha (minus Niki and jungwon)

Buy me a Ko-fi!

Much like every college student, Lee Heeseung loved three things: money, alcohol, and pool parties. You recalled this as Heeseung and your brother walked into the living room shouting about how “awesome” their party will be, raving about your parents finally deciding to go out for the weekend. Heeseung stopped in the doorway upon seeing your figure curled onto the couch, watching Twilight for the thousandth time. 

“Hey, birthday boy,” you teased, your eyes leaving the television in front of you. Jake locked eyes with you before rolling his own.

“No, you can't go,” Jake replied, annoyance coating his tone. “This party is for cool people only," he swiped at a loose strand of his blonde hair as it fell over his face.

You sighed, putting a piece of popcorn into your mouth. “Then why are you going?” You joked back. Heeseung laughed lightly at your response.

He walked to where he could see the screen before turning to Jake. “I don't see why she can't come, it'll be here and all the guys will be here to make sure she's safe,” Heeseung reasoned. His arms rested against the top of the couch, leaning forward as he came closer to you.

Your head turned to face your brother’s best friend, eyeing how his newly silver hair complimented his tan skin. He wore a silver chain over his shirt, the metal dangling dangerously close to you.

Jake groaned, rolling his eyes again. “That's the problem, dude! Tons of guys will be drinking and looking at my baby sister like a piece of meat!” He shouted. “It's best if she just goes to her friend's house and stays far away that night.”

Jake angrily tapped his phone, sending a text to his friends.

You scoffed. “‘Baby sister’? Jake, I'm almost twenty years old.”

He ran a hand through his hair, aggravation evident on his face. “Twenty, twelve, same shit. My answer is final, you are not going to our party.”

You shrugged in response. “And if I happen to want to go for a swim in my own pool with Sunoo, then what?”

“I’ll inflate the kiddy pool for you two.”

You fiddled with the tiny black box in your hands nervously as Sunoo, your best friend, examined its contents. “Y/N, I'm not sure this is a good idea,” he sighed, placing the object back in the box.

Your shoulders fell as you put the box next to you. Sunoo came to sit next to you, running his hand over your back soothingly. “Maybe if you would tell me why this damn thing was ‘so cool’ I'd reconsider my opinion,” the blonde gestured towards you.

You held the silver sun-shaped pendant in your palm. “It's embarrassing,” you mumbled. 

“Then why are you giving it to hot boy Heeseung?”

You slapped your palm on top of Sunoo’s mouth, glancing towards your door in a panic. “Don't say that shit so loud, Sunoo!” He raised his arms in surrender before you spoke again. “I just… It's something between me and him, and I'm sure he'll understand the meaning.”

“Ooh, did you two fuck on the beach or something?” Sunoo bounced up and down, hitting his knees excitedly. “Tell me EVERYTHING!”

You laughed lightly. “No, that's not it,” you traced the outline of the metal Sun. “It’s much more meaningful and realistic than that.”

When you were sixteen, your family took a trip to the beach. You had just begun to bloom into womanhood, according to your mother. Jake had decided to bring his friend from school, Heeseung. 

Heeseung was possibly the most popular senior at your high school, your brother a close second to him. You had sat at the bottom of the food chain your entire freshman and sophomore year, until you’d come to school after spring break with a completely new look.

It was the last night of your trip, and you'd decided to go out to the shore one more time before going home. You made your way out in your tank top and shorts, the sandals on your feet crunchy with sand.

The sea greeted you with its soft crashes, the salty, sticky breeze hitting you slowly. You closed your eyes and relished in the tranquility.

Quietly, sniffles began to enter your ears. Your head snapped in their direction, seeing your brother's best friend still shirtless and in his swim trunks that he'd worn all day. He sat with his knees curled into his chest, his brown hair blown askew from the wind.

You walked over to him quietly, sitting next to him with your legs out and arms behind you. “Wanna talk about it?” You asked gently, your eyes never leaving the shore. 

He shook his head as it sat against his knees with another sniffle. You brought your hand up to run through his hair, a common gesture you did. Stopping mid-air, you watched as his shoulders shook with the force of his breathing.

Heeseung’s body visibly relaxed at the feeling of your fingers gently carding through his hair. “Whatever it is, it'll be okay. I'm here for you, if you need someone to talk to,” you comforted him in a light voice.

He couldn't get himself to pick his head up, too afraid to have anyone see him so disheveled. “It's- It's-” he stammered, hiccuping between words. 

You shushed him, whispering that it was okay and that he didn't need to force himself. He lifted his head up, watching the way you stared towards the open ocean as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.

He admired the way your hair fell over your shoulders, slightly wavy from the salt water. He watched a smile grace your cheeks, freckles and a slight tint from a sunburn being gently illuminated by the moonlight bouncing from the water. 

“It's my family,” he scratched out, his throat burning from his emotions. “They just, God, they're so shit. My parents fight all the fucking time, and then they expect me to clean up their messes when they throw shit and scare my little siblings. I come home half the time to one of my parents drunk as shit, high off their ass, or flipping their shit at one of the kids.”

He glanced at you, as if to ask if he could continue. You nodded slowly, your eyes giving him all of the reassurance he needed. “I don't want to go home,” he mumbled. “This week with your family has been the best week of my life. I'm not scared to walk out of my room or talk to you all, your family is so loving and easy to be with. I'm so thankful your family let me come and treated me like one of their own.”

Heeseung cracked out another choked sob. “I'm so tired of having to work my ass off to pay bills, and fix shit, and take care of my siblings in my parents’ place, and do good in school, and-”

Heeseung felt his body freeze at the feeling of your soft fingers wiping the tears from his cheeks. He leaned into your touch as you continued to hold his face, his eyes closing in comfort. “You don't have to keep this all to yourself, y'know,” you smiled down to him.

He lifted his eyes to yours, making your breath hitch. The delicate moonlight created a shadow over his face that only served to increase his attractiveness, despite his puffy eyes. His round, doe eyes had a white shine from the illuminated night above him, and you couldn't tell if the stars you were seeing lived in the sky or if they simply lived in his eyes.

“Heeseung,” you breathed out. “You'll always be part of our family.”

Heeseung wrapped his arms around your arms, his chin coming to sit on your shoulder. You let your hands hold his back soothingly, your palms running up and down as he breathed. He brought his face back, staring into your own eyes.

His breath reached your lips with each exhale. “Y/N, you're like a ray of sunshine, y'know?” He laughed, a perfect smile over his features.

“You sound cheesy,” you joked. “But if I can be a ray of sunshine for you when you need it, then I'll be your Sun.”

The two of you sat like that, the last words of your conversation hanging in the air. His face was so, so close to your own.

His eyes flicked down to your lips as he slowly leaned in. “Whenever I need it?” He asked, gauging your reaction.

“Anytime,” you breathed out, almost whispering.

His arms unraveled from your body, hands holding your chin and cheek softly. “What if I just want it?”

You closed the distance, pressing your lips against his, hoping to God that he'd reciprocate. His lips moved against your own slowly, never escalating the kiss beyond just that: a kiss. He pulled away after a few seconds, resting his forehead against your own. He laughed lightly, his shoulders bouncing with him. “Thank you, Y/N, for talking to me. I won't forget this.”

Sunoo sat with his jaw hung open as you finished recalling the story of your conversation with Heeseung. “So you two kissed?!” Sunoo all but yelled.

You jumped up and slammed your door shut, a threatening glare in your eyes. “Shut up!” You whisper-shouted. “The last thing I need is for Heeseung to hear you, or worse, Jake!”

Sunoo swooned in your bed overdramatically. “And you got him a sun pendant to remind him you're his Sunshine, oh my GOSH! So romantic!”

You put the box back onto your desk. “Not exactly,” you smiled. “Just… friendly.”

“Oh, shut up! You guys kissed all romantically, have you two been sneaking around?”

“Nothing ever happened after that, actually. We just went back to how it was before, with him being Jake's friend and me not being allowed to interact with Jake’s guy friends.”

Sunoo slammed his hands onto your mattress. “Okay, I see the problem. We have to kill Jake.”

Your eyes widened as Sunoo wordlessly slid his finger across his throat. His eyes were wide with exaggeration.

“Oh my God, Sunoo, no! We're not killing my brother!” You laughed, your large t-shirt falling over your gym shorts. 

Sunoo shrugged. “No fun,” he mumbled. He suddenly snapped his fingers as he got an idea, jumping off your bed and tearing through your closet. 

You ran over to him, catching clothes as he threw them behind himself. “Sunoo, what are you doing?!” You shouted, laughter tearing through your body.

He mumbled, “I know you've gotta be hiding your sexy clothes in here,” as he flipped your entire dresser drawer of swimwear upside down. He smiled devilishly, pulling out a white bikini. He held it over your body, his tongue poking from the side of his mouth as he squinted his eyes.

“Sunoo, what are you planning?”

“We're crashing that party, and you're crashing Heeseung,” he stated. He nodded once as he examined where the suit fell and exclaimed, “SEXALICIOUS!”

You giggled, the two of you falling into fashion show mode, trying on different clothes from your closet.

Heeseung stood outside your door, a blush on his cheeks. As he'd promised, he never forgot that night on the beach. In fact, he thought about it quite often. Hearing you laugh every time he came over, seeing you run around with Sunoo happily, the way you would innocently smile at him as if he wasn't thinking about how beautiful you were that night: it drove him crazy.

As time passed and you grew into the adult you are now, Heeseung began to think about how beautiful you would be in front of him, with his cock down your throat. He wanted to ruin the innocence behind your smile.

The day had finally come. It was Heeseung’s twenty-first birthday, the day that you and Sunoo had been planning for weeks. Your parents cooked a simple ramen for everyone, the cake being the main course. 

Of course, you'd helped decorate the cake. Your mother was only capable of making a sheet cake, so you helped her ice it with smiley faces everywhere and “HAPPY BIRTHDAY HEESEUNG” being drawn in the center. 

Heeseung watched as you placed the candles carefully, wanting all twenty-one to be even. He walked over to you as you placed the finishing candle, noticing you were alone.

Heeseung had been planning for this day. At least, he'd been planning since he overheard your plans. He was going to drive you to your absolute limit, and put your simple plan (which he knew would already be highly effective) to its fullest potential.

He smiled at the cake, glancing at you. “Thank you, Y/N. This looks delicious,” he commented. 

Your eyes shot around the room. “Watch out, Heeseung. Jake might froth at the mouth if he sees any of his friends talking to me tonight.”

“Well,” he swiped his finger into the icing, gathering a dollop of white on it, “we'll just have to be sneaky, then.” 

You turned to him, mouth open and ready to scold him for messing with the cake (and your head). He smirked, dragging his finger along his tongue slowly. You watched as the icing spread over it, his tongue flat against his finger. He quietly groaned at the flavor. “Fuck,” he practically moaned. 

“‘Fuck’?” You breathlessly whispered.

He looked at you, licking the rest off of his lips. “Tastes so good, Y/N,” he murmured with half-lidded eyes.

 Suddenly, his sweet eyes had opened back up as his smile reached his ears again. “Can't wait to eat it!” He cheerily harped before walking out of the room, leaving you in a state of confusion and with a puddle in your skirt.

“BITCH!” Sunoo shouted upon hearing of your interaction with Heeseung. He laughed loudly, his tropical shirt and black swim trunks complimenting the sunglasses he wore atop his head. “He is so flirting with you!”

You walked out of your closet, doing a dramatic twirl in your bikini. You had a pair of glasses on your head, matching Sunoo’s. He clapped and hooted while you did a few more moves, including the iconic Elle Woods “bend and snap”.

Sunoo scanned your figure, from your curled hair down to your painted toes. “Are you seriously wearing an anklet?” He asked as you stood.

You looked down at it. “Yeah, what's wrong with it? It matched the pendant I'm giving Heeseung, I thought it would be cute.”

“It is,” Sunoo nodded, “if you want to tell him you want it to dangle over his shoulder, that is.”

He looked up at you, expecting you to take it off. 

When you made no move to do so, his eyes widened as he began to shout. “Oh my God! You dirty whore, look at you growing up!”

He stood next to you, eyeing the both of you in your mirror before putting an arm over your shoulder. “We could pass as a cute couple, couldn't we?” He commented.

The two of you faked it for about two more seconds before bursting into laughter, Sunoo holding onto your shoulder to keep from falling.

As you heard the door to your house opening, followed by boisterous laughter and shouting, you knew that the party was starting. You and Sunoo walked down the stairs, your gift to Heeseung in your hands. 

Jake's friend, Sunghoon, whistled lowly as you walked into the room. “Damn, Jake, didn't know you had a girlfriend,” he commented.

Heeseung turned to you quickly, his eyes going wide and his cheeks turning red as he checked you out. If he had been trying to hide it, he did not do a good job of it. He shut his open mouth and blinked quickly before trying to get ahold of himself.

Jake looked at you in shock and disgust. “That's my sister, you douche!” Jake shouted. 

“Is she single?” Sunghoon asked flirtatiously.

Heeseung and Jake both shot a look at the boy. 

“Off limits.”

“Don't even try it.”

The two looked at each other after they spoke simultaneously, both shrugging and looking back at Sunghoon with glares.

You came up between Heeseung and Jake, eyeing Sunghoon up and down. “Actually, I am single,” you smiled. “I'll be at the party all night, if you wanted to hang,” you hoped your attempt at blatantly flirting would get to Heeseung.

From the way his jaw clenched, it did.

Your bubble was burst, however, by Jake’s hand on your wrist. “Oh, no. No, no, no. I told you, you are not invited,” Jake dragged you back to the stairs. “Whether you live here or not, you will stay in your room.”

You opened your mouth to protest, only for Heeseung to come up next to you and pluck the sunglasses off of your head. “Why do you have these anyways? You do realize it’s nighttime, right?” He asked, putting them in his own hair.

You rolled your eyes. “Can I at least give Heeseung his birthday gift?” 

Jake shook his head no as Heeseung nodded at you. He smiled tenderly, his hand settling on your shoulder. “I'll find you after the party's over so you can give it to me, yeah?”

You sighed, pretending to give in. “Alright, that works. If anyone needs me, I'll be in my room all night. All alone! The one right by the-”

“Alright, horndog, I'll be sure to relay the message that your brother will beat the shit out of anyone who tries to go, don't worry,” Jake began to push you up the stairs.

As Jake and Heeseung greeted more people, you watched the red solo cups fill outside your window. “Sun,” you called out, “do you think girls are gonna hit on Heeseung?”

“I think girls are going to flash him, too,” Sunoo deadpanned. You frowned at him, your makeup not being able to hide your worry. “Girls are going to throw themselves at a hot guy like him, but that guy out there was one of many who will be begging for your attention tonight.”

He walked over to you, rubbing your arms. “You are hot shit tonight, babe. If you want Heeseung to notice you, you've gotta flaunt it.”

After the two of you snuck back into the party, it took about five minutes before a guy offered to show you how to use a keg. Once you'd gotten that information, you were unstoppable.

You had about four cups of beer before deciding to take a break, the buzz making you dizzy. You let your feet dangle into the water of the pool, watching the way the water rippled under your feet.

The slight waves in your pool from people swimming reminded you of that night on the beach so many years ago. There was no way Heeseung remembered, you thought. You were probably just a kid to him, or a little sister. 

You looked up and took in the scene of your backyard. You’d seen it from your window many nights, but you’d never been immersed into it. Girls ran around with pool floats in skimpy swimsuits, guys targeted one another with water guns, your pool was decorated with LED lights and stray solo cups, and your brother was easily the life of the party. 

Currently, your dad’s expensive speaker setup for the pool was blaring “Beauty and a Beat” by Justin Beiber. You watched as a beach ball was tossed around the party, beer splashing onto the ground and water dripping down bodies.

You felt a leg brush against your own as someone sat next to you. A shirtless man with big eyes and an impressive physique sat next to you, his hair dripping with water. “You ever been to one of Jake’s parties?” The man asked.

You shook your head, “I’ve only ever heard of them, this is my first party.” The man watched as you took another chug of your drink.

He let his hand touch against the flush on your cheeks, smiling at you. “I can tell, you look bored as fuck. My name’s Taehyun.”

“Hi, Taehyun. I’m Y/N,” you smiled, holding your hand out for him to shake.

He looked at you with a confused smile, shaking your hand slowly. He then intertwined your fingers, his pink hair dripping water into your hand. His muscles flexed as he helped you stand with him, his pretty hand coming to steady you. “Say, do you want something a little better than beer? It tastes like shit, a pretty girl like you needs quality drinks."

You glanced at your cup, eying the amount of beer you had left. You chugged the rest, nodding as you swallowed. “Yeah, what the hell? I'm always up for a challenge.”

He cocked a brow. “Oh? I like that,” he held your hands as he led you to the drink table. 

You handed him your cup as he poured a mixture of clear liquid, lime, and frozen pink lemonade into a cup. “Try this. It's good, and it's not enough to fuck you up off one cup,” he smiled. 

You pushed the drink down your throat, your eyes widening as you swallowed. “Holy shit, Taehyun. This tastes like a fucking slushy.”

“I know, it's awesome,” he praised himself.

As you laughed, you felt a pair of eyes glaring at you. You hoped it wasn't Jake as you sound around.

Heeseung sat behind you, a girl sitting sideways on his lap. You watched as she ran her hand up and down his chisled abs, his hands behind his head. She whispered into his ear, a smirk crossing his lips, but you knew she didn't have his undivided attention at the moment.

His eyes were burning into you, and if looks could kill, the entire neighborhood would have gone up in flames. With a clenched jaw and raised eyebrows, he glared at you as if to say don't even try it. He stared at you so intently that you felt almost ashamed for talking to Taehyun.

You shook your head, snapping yourself out of your trance. “Taehyun, do you want to try a sip?”

He looked you up and down. “I mean, sure,” he stepped closer to you, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close enough to have you pour the drink into his mouth yourself.

Your lips curved into a smile. “Flirting, huh?” You teased him.

He smiled back. “Is it working?”

You grabbed his chin, forcing his face closer to yours. “Only if you're looking to get laid tonight,” you said, sure that Heeseung was reading your lips.

You glanced at the boy, his jaw clenched again. He returned his focus to the girl on his lap, his hand gripping at her thigh. You watched as she turned to him, a gasp escaping her lips.

Taehyun smirked as he crashed his lips into yours, a much different kiss from the one you shared with Heeseung four years ago. His hand wove its way into your hair, his other hand holding your hip. He pushed your body against his, your back arching into him as you let out a moan.

He took the opportunity to insert his tongue into your mouth, clashing against your own. He sucked your tongue harshly, his lower hand gravitating towards your ass. You brushed your leg against Taehyun’s crotch, a low groan leaving his lips as he pulled away. “Maybe we should take this where we can't be seen by everyone, yeah?”

You nodded, Taehyun already starting to lead you to the side of your house. You watched as the two of you walked into the seclusion of the shadow cast by it, your heart racing.

Maybe, having seen Heeseung with the other girl and believing he doesn't want you the way you want him, you could move on.

Taehyun placed a hand on the wall of your house, your foreheads touching. “God, you're so hot,” he sighed, capturing your lips again. It was one filled with lust, with teeth clashing and lip biting.

You grabbed his hand and lifted it to your chest as he backed away and looked at you. “Are you sure?” He asked. “I don't want it to be the beer talking.”

You nodded, throwing your head back as he kneaded your boob over your swimsuit. He squeezed your mound in time with every jab of his tongue into your mouth, occasionally pinching your nipple through the material. You had all but cum from him just kissing and touching your chest when he was suddenly ripped away from you.

“Dude, what the fuck?!” Taehyun shouted, bracing himself as he hit the ground.

You watched as Heeseung didn't spare the man a glance, his attention entirely on you. His eyes raked over your figure mercilessly, making you feel small in your own yard. 

Taehyun looked between the two of you, confusion and anger evident on his face. “Tae, go back to the party. You don't want her,” Heeseung said in a low voice.

Taehyun scoffed. “And who are you to make decisions for her?” His arms came to cross in front of his chest.

“She's Jake’s little sister,” Heeseung turned his head to face the other. “He'll kill you.”

Taehyun cursed under his breath before running off, hoping your brother hadn't seen your show earlier. Your eyes followed him, wondering if he could’ve given you what you’d been hoping for.

You glared at Heeseung. “What the fuck is your problem, Hee? You can't just tell me what to do!” You pushed him back by his chest, your smaller hands barely moving him.

Heeseung’s eyes locked onto yours, his stare harder than anything you’d seen before. He stared at you like you were wrong for kissing Taehyun, wrong for kissing anyone else. His hair, which he used your sunglasses to push back after jumping into the pool, still dropped some water onto his neck and shoulders. You watched as a droplet fell down his collarbones, trailing down his chest and stomach, collecting in the waistband of his swim trunks.

You wanted to lick every bead of water off of his body.

His tongue peeked out of mouth to wet his lips, his teeth catching the bottom of the two as his eyes fell to where Taehyun had touched. 

His hands balled into fists as he fought his desires. He closed his eyes, groaning in anger. “Go to your room. Jake will never talk to either of us again if we do this.”

He turned to walk away, taking two steps before you spoke up. “Do fucking what, Hee? Instead of me falling for that fucking show you put on earlier with the cake, I decided to go and find someone who was actually into me. Nowhere does that involve you!”

Heeseung turned around. “You think I’m not into you? You don’t think I’ve been fighting myself to not kiss you all this time?” He raised his voice, the tension finally getting to him.

Suddenly, it was too hot outside. In the cool night air, your body temperatures began to rise to unseen numbers.

“I don’t know, Heeseung. You sure didn’t have to do much fighting if you’ve lasted four years.”

He slammed his hand against your head onto the wall, much harder than Taehyun had. Your faces were inches away from one another, you could smell the beer on his breath. “I see your pretty fucking lips in my dreams, Y/N. I’ve had to imagine your pretty little face and how it would look if you were choking on me for ages, and tonight, I have to watch you parade around with your ass out and your tits barely covered? Do you know how badly I wanted to rip these clothes off you when you walked down those stairs?”

You held your breath, his eyes glancing to your lips. “What makes you think I won't just walk away and go find someone else?” You asked. The two of you both knew you were bluffing, an empty threat that only served to make Heeseung angrier.

“If anyone’s fucking you tonight, it’s gonna be me.”

Heeseung looked into your eyes, how they were wide with anticipation for him. He looked down to your lips, admiring how they were already pouty and puffy for him, begging for him to kiss you right. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he mumbled, pressing his lips to your own. 

You threw your arms over his shoulders, his hand holding the back of your head as he pushed your mouths impossibly close. His other hand slid down the curve of your hips, holding onto your leg and pulling it up to wrap around his hips. You moaned as you felt his hard-on press into you, Heeseung taking the opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth. The two of you fought for dominance over the kiss, Heeseung winning and taking your lip between his teeth. He backed away, loving how you looked under him. “Go inside. I’ll excuse myself from the party and meet you in your room.”

You nodded, walking towards your front door to sneak back in. Heeseung jogged back around the house to find your brother. Jake was laughing with his friends, a girl sat on his leg as he played with her hair. “Yo, Heeseung!” He called out, obviously plastered. 

Heeseung walked to him, yawning. “Dude, I hate to say this, but I’m feeling super tired. Must’ve been all the swimming and all the beer, man.” Jake looked around the party, seeing how everyone else was still partying.

Jake put his cup onto the table behind him. “Do you want me to call off the party? It is your party, after all.”

Heeseung shook his head. “Nah, keep it going. I’m just gonna head inside and go to bed, but don’t stop the party. Keep it going as long as possible, actually.” Jake cocked a brow at him in confusion. “In my honor, y’know,” he added. Jake gave him a thumbs up, standing and shouting something incoherent, to which everyone else cheered.

Heeseung ran inside, practically flying up the stairs and to your room. He swung your door open, slamming it shut and smashing his lips onto your own again. He reached his hand behind your back to push the straps of your swimsuit off your shoulders, halting all movement when you pushed him off of you.

“Is something wrong?” He asked with worry.

You shook your head, grabbing the black box from your desk and handing it to him. “I wanted to give you this first. I think you’ll like it.”

He nodded, opening the box. “Is that for this?” He asked, holding his chain out. You nodded, helping him put the pendant on.

You sighed as you looked at it. “It’s supposed to be because-”

“Because I called you my ray of sunshine, I remember. I go to sleep thinking about that kiss,” he mumbled at the end.

 You pointed to your ankle. “I have the matching anklet. Figured it would look good over your shoulder.”

Heeseung looked up at you, the toothy grin on his lips contrasting the filthy words coming from them. “I know exactly what position I want you in first.”

He kissed you again, unclasping your top and pulling it off of you as he made his way down your jawline and neck. His fingertips fluttered down your arms gently, goosebumps appearing behind them. He bit along the bottom of your neck, leaving small bruises in his wake. You swallowed a moan, earning a harsh bite from him. “Let me hear your pretty voice, babe,” he whispered into your ear.

His hand slid to your boob, experimentally pinching your nipple with his thumb and index finger. You let out a quiet moan, melting into his touch.

He brought his other hand to your waist, his thumb rubbing circles onto the side of your stomach. He kissed his way down your chest, leaving hickeys all the way down to your free boob. You moaned as he licked your other nipple, the cold air hitting his saliva and making it perk. 

You let out a loud moan, hands flying to the top of his head as he sucked harshly and rolled your other nipple between his fingers. He pushed you against your bed, your legs falling over the side as your back lay on the edge. He continued to roll your nipple between his fingers as he kissed down the valley of your tits, down your stomach, and to the hem of your swimsuit bottoms. "Already so wet for me, why didn't you say you needed me, baby?" He smirked against your stomach, his fingers already curling underneath the material.

“You talked so much shit earlier, and now look at you. You can't even tell me how bad you want me to eat your fucking pussy,” he mused. “Tell me, am I the first?”

You felt his hot breath fan over your clothed core, your wetness showing through the white material. “Y- You’re the first,” you breathily said. Heeseung let out a low groan, a dark smile appearing.

He ripped the clothing down your legs, throwing them to the corner of your room. He looked down at your core, your lips glistening with your wetness. “Fuck, I’ve barely even touched you,” he let the sight and smell invade his senses. “So pretty, baby, so pretty for me. Almost like you were made to be my pretty whore.”

Your hole clenched around his words, the praise going straight to your stomach. He put his finger on your clit, rubbing slow circles over it before dragging it down to your hole and back up. He pulled his finger to his mouth, his eyes never leaving yours. Sucking your juices into his mouth, he closed his eyes and moaned. “Taste so good, might have to just eat you out until you’re begging for my cock.”

“Hee, please,” you whined.

“Please what, babe?” He cooed, the tip of his finger pushing into where you needed him most. “You think Taehyun could’ve made you needy like this? Think he could’ve had you whining for him like this?”

“N- No, Hee, only you,” you moaned as he pushed his finger all the way in, curling it to make your back arch.

He laughed cruelly at how sensitive you were, fanning his breath over your heat. He wanted to watch the way you squirmed over a singular finger, wanted to see the way you saw stars from him doing so little to you. He wanted to stay strong, palming himself over his shorts to the sound of you.

You moaned loudly, your legs twitching. Heeseung growled, his resolve shattering into pieces as he dragged the tip of his tongue up from your hole to your clit slowly, eyes rolling back in his head at the taste.

"Fuck, Y/N, you taste so amazing. Could eat you all day."

He latched his lips onto your folds, licking and sucking your slick until his nose and chin were shiny with it. He pumped his finger fast, a relentless pace building up. You felt a knot in your stomach building, his lips coming to latch around your clit and suck. “‘m close,” you mumbled, your head thrown back. 

He sloppily licked over your clit, bringing you closer and closer to the euphoria he’d been building you up to. He added a second finger, stretching you out and pushing you over the edge. You saw white and your ears rang as he swallowed as much of your juices as he could, the rest coating his chin and nose still. Once he was sure you’d come down from your high, he brought his lips to your own and kissed you, forcing you to taste yourself. It wasn’t as sweet as he made it out to be, but if he enjoyed it, you guess. 

“So good for me, you’re so, so good for me baby. My pretty baby, already all fucked out for me,” he commented, holding your jerking hips down. “Get on your knees.”

You obeyed, sliding to the floor on your weak legs, your eyes staring into his. He pulled his shorts off of his body, his hard dick slapping his stomach, leaving a string of precum attaching his tip to his lower abdomen. He looked at you expectantly. “Can’t expect me to teach you everything, not when you were gonna give another guy the same like I haven’t been waiting.”

You wrapped your hand around his member, the tip continuing to leak into your hand. Heeseung wasn’t monstrously thick, but he was long. His girth was what you’d consider average, if not a little above, but his length was longer than you’d imagined he could be. You used your thumb to spread his precum down the underside of his cock, bringing your head to lick up the trail you created from base to tip. He threw his head back, a pretty moan slipping past his lips as you put your lips around the tip and sucked. 

The tension in his shoulders released, his jaw going slack as you tried to fit him inside your mouth. He found it so cute how you tried your best, but so sexy that your proportions were so much smaller, that he had to fit himself in you.

You used your hands to stroke where you couldn’t reach, your head not going very far beyond his head. He moaned loudly as you used your tongue against his slit, his hand collecting your hair into a ponytail.  He thrusted into your mouth, his dick going down your throat and making you gag. “Shit, baby, are you okay?” He asked quickly.

You nodded, pulling yourself off of him. “I’ve never done this before, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he stroked the side of your face. “That makes this more fun. I can help, if you want.”

“Please.”

His cock twitched in your hands as he looked down at you, your eyes teary and your chin dripping with slobber. You were fully naked on the floor in front of him, your hair messy and your chest marked. And you looked so beautiful for him.

He moaned at the begging tone of your voice, the hand in your hair holding your head in place as he thrusted forward. He was holding back from going fast, you could tell. You gripped his thighs, your nails digging into them as you moaned around his dick. He sucked in a breath, pulling out of your mouth. “Shit,” he hissed, “I almost came doing that.”

He pulled you up by your hair, the pain making you drip down the inside of your thighs. You moaned loudly as he jerked your head around, littering your chest with more hickeys. “Trying so hard to be gentle with you, I promise. You’re just so perfect, want everyone to know you’re mine.”

“Hee, be rough. Wanna feel you,” you moaned into his kiss. 

His eyes squeezed shut, a low groan emerging from the back of his throat. “You’re gonna be the death of me.” He threw you onto your bed, climbing on between your legs and pinning your hands above your head with one hand. He kissed you roughly, his teeth grazing whatever skin they could.

His finger tapped the side of your lips. “Open,” he commanded. You opened your mouth, watching the glob of saliva fall from his lips. “Swallow.” You let the warm liquid travel down your throat as he said it. “Good girl,” he cooed in your ear sweetly, his stomach filling with warmth as he watched you. “Want everyone out there to hear how good you are for me. So bratty and talkative outside, and now you want my cock so bad you’ll do anything, isn’t that right?”

You nodded. “Want you s’ bad, Hee,” you whined as he rubbed his thumb against your clit. “Wanna feel you in me.”

You reached under your pillow, pulling a condom out and handing it to him. He ripped the package open with his teeth, sliding the rubber on easily. “Had it ready for me, you knew I’d be in you tonight, didn’t you? My pretty little slut,” he teased as he pressed the tip of his dick against your hole. 

He grabbed your legs, bringing them over his shoulders. True to your word, your anklet dangled next to his face as his matching necklace hung over your face. He pushed your legs closer to you, pressing you in on yourself as he slowly started to push in. “Stop teasing,” you stammered. “P- Push it in all the way.”

He threw his head forward, watching his cock disappear into you and bulge in your stomach. “S’ tight, s’ happy I got to fuck this pretty pussy. Can’t believe you almost let someone else see this when you know it’s all mine,” he spoke filthily over you.

He slowly began to thrust in and out, building up to a fast pace that had your bed creaking. His jaw hung open, shameless moans spilling from his mouth. His breath would catch in his throat, short gasps telling you he found this as pleasurable as you did. His hand wrapped around your neck, squeezing until you felt lightheaded. He brought you up by your neck to kiss you.

This kiss was much softer and slower than the others. He took his time savoring your lips and their pillowy feel, he committed the feeling of your tongue wrapping around his to memory. He let your head fall back down as he brought his head into your neck. You felt the familiar tightening in your stomach that you had before, his dick filling you up entirely. He moaned into your ear, words of praise falling from his delicate lips with each thrust. “‘S good, ‘s perfect, all mine,” he said. "Ngh, fuck, feels 's tight around me."

Your nails scratched down his back as he ruthlessly pounded into you, a loud moan escaping him as he felt the pain. You moaned his name louder the harder he pounded into you, only fueling his drive. He picked his head up, his eyes bearing into your own. “Tell me whose cock is making you feel this good, hm? Who’s making this tight little pussy cum so hard, hm? Is it anyone out there, or is it me?”

“You, ‘s all you, Heeseung. Don’t want anyone but you, Hee,” you moaned. You felt your orgasm coming quick the more he teased you. “I’m gonna cum, baby.”

Heeseung sucked hard against your neck. “Fuckin’ love when you call me that,” he groaned in your ear. “You’re my baby, all mine, I’m all yours,” he cooed. “Only this pretty pussy makes me feel this good, nobody else.”

You pulled Heeseung back down to you, “Shut up and kiss me, ‘m so close.”

“Fuck, me too,” he said, molding his lips to your own. His mouth caught your whines and moans as you came undone onto him, your cum coating his abdomen and thighs. Your hole spasmed around his cock as he fucked you through your orgasm, making him release into the condom.

He panted into your ear, his forehead against your own. The two of you sat in that position for a few minutes, catching your breaths and kissing one another. 

He slowly pulled out of you, tying the condom and tossing it into the trash can. He came back to lay on top of you, holding your waist as he did so. He pulled your blanket over you both, bringing you up to your pillows. “Jake’s gonna wonder where you are, Hee,” you ran your fingers through his hair.

“I don’t give a fuck,” he laughed, his hand intertwining with your free one. “Just had sex with the girl I’ve been in love with for four years, he can suck it up.”

You looked down at him. “You’re in love with me?”

He looked back up at you and nodded. “You couldn’t tell?”

“Heeseung, I was going to give up on you after tonight if nothing happened.”

“I was supposed to move on from you too, but I realized I didn’t give a fuck about Jake’s overprotectiveness.”

You laughed. “I don’t think he’ll be too mad. He does trust you with his life, after all,” you smiled while rubbing your thumb over his hand. He brought his head to lay on the pillow next to you, bringing your body closer to his. “So, what does this mean for us?”

Heeseung ran his hand down your side soothingly. “Well, Sunshine, even though I did it insanely out of order,” he laughed, “I’d like to take you out on actual dates and get your parents’ approval and all. Y’know, court you and shit. Treat you like someone I want to spend my life with.”

You smiled. “I’d like that, Hee.”

The two of you fell asleep like that. Needless to say, Jake was not pleased when he went to look for Heeseung in the morning. Your parents immediately gave him the seal of approval to date you, but Jake took much longer to come around. It wasn’t until Heeseung told him he wouldn’t ask you to be his girlfriend until he got Jake’s approval that Jake realized how stupid his friend was.

“You mean to tell me, you’ve been in love with my little sister since that vacation, but you’re waiting on something as stupid as my approval to ask her out?” Jake had asked one morning while the three of you ate breakfast together.

Heeseung nodded, pouring another bowl of cereal for himself. “Yep, pretty much,” he smiled.

“Dude, it’s been, like, a fucking month!” Jake exclaimed. “Why would you do that?”

“He wanted to wait for his best friend to be happy for him and the little sister,” you grumbled, morning crankiness being your worst enemy. Jake looked between the both of you, his eyes wide.

Heeseung’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes like it usually did, his spoon aimlessly stirring his meal. “I want my best friend to not hate me for life if I date his little sister,” Heeseung corrected you.

Jake slammed his fist onto the counter, making you both jump. “Dude, I might beat your ass. Really,” he glared at Heeseung. “I can get over you two dating, but I won’t be able to get over you hurting her.”

“I would never-”

“That includes being an idiot and making her wait,” Jake interrupted Heeseung. “Ask the girl out-”

“Hello, ‘girl’ is right here,” you waved.

Jake held a hand in front of your face. “Ask the girl out, and make her happy.”

Heeseung pushed Jake’s hand out of your face, leaning over the counter. “Hey, girl,” he smiled. Jake rolled his eyes and walked out of the room, leaving his cereal on the counter. Heeseung grabbed your hand with his. “How happy would it make you if I took you out tonight?”

“Well, in my mind we’ve been dating for four years, so I’d be pretty happy,” you smiled as you put a spoonful of cereal in your mouth. 

“Well, girl, I’m excited to celebrate our imaginary four year anniversary when you become my girlfriend tonight."

NOTES: ohhh my gosshhhh this took so long to write 😭 never really written this much before, I'm scared it's repetitive or boring. I just listened to Beauty and a Beat and my mind was like "omg heeseung at a pool party yass"

Comments, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated, and my asks/requests are always open!

#enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fluff #enhypen heeseung #enhypen jake #enhypen jay #enhypen smut #enhypen sunghoon #enha heeseung #smut #enha fanfic #enha smut #heeseung smut #enha smau #enhypen smau #heeseung #enha fluff #enha x reader #enhypen sunoo #enha imagines #enha #enhypen #jake smut #jay smut #sunghoon smut

[lxkeee]

TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN

-PART THREE

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim Angel! Fem! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Genre: Angst (for now)

Warnings: Daddy issues.

Notes: Fun fact... The reason I titled this as two sides of the same coin as I was originally planning on making the reader being Azrael's wife and would be [y/n] Eveningstar as Azrael's last name would be Eveningstar 🧍but decided not to lmao.

PART TWO | PART FOUR | NAVIGATION

Charlie stood nervously at the podium, angels above her already judging her. Her eyes noticed the door to the courtroom opens, a familiar angel she met awhile ago, an angel that looked like her father. Xavier was it? If she remembered correctly. She watched as the boy flew up and took his position on the other side of Sera, Emily on the other side of the woman, the older woman in between the two young seraphims.

Charlie could feel the [e/c] orbs staring at her as the boy looked down on her (literally as he was sitting above her).

The meeting began.

Charlie was really hoping to win these angels over, hopefully her brother could help.

But she was slowly getting more and more nervous as the boy looked like he was getting bored from this meeting, the meeting clearly didn't meet his expectations.

Xavier just looked down, eyes half-lidded as he looked at the girl with boredom. All he could see is a plan without enough foundation to work, baseless claims that the hotel will work.

What annoys him is that this is the very same ambition his father proposed years ago. He wasn't there during the meeting but his mother told him about it.

The idea is ridiculous. Sinners were given a chance to live an honest and good life but decided to mess it up and now they're looking for a way to redeem themselves?

Xavier was close to falling asleep in the middle of it, suddenly something caught his interest. Emily, Charlotte, and Sera were arguing but Lute and Adam suddenly butted into the conversation and managed to slip up and revealed a secret.

“A man only lives once, we'll see you in one month... gotta say I can't wait to... Come down and exterminate you.” Adam says mockingly along with Lute.

Xavier's eyes widened, jaw dropping. Looking around to see if he heard it right and base on the others reaction, he heard it right.

The rest of the meeting went by a blur, another secret was revealed and Vaggie, Charlotte's lover was a former exorcist and is a fallen angel.

Frankly, he doesn't care about that. Xavier can only cover his mouth in shock, still in disbelief that these killings are happening without the others knowing.

Heaven is a lie.

Charlie looked at her supposed brother, a slight surprised look on his face. Clearly in disbelief. She couldn't tell if he's mad or not.

Oh, he's mad alright. Mad that a lie this big has been hidden away.

Beyond furious, Xavier glared at Sera. Charlotte and her lover were teleported back to hell after a snap of Adam's fingers.

Killing of souls, damned or not they have no reason for doing this.

Xavier decided to attend the court meeting, curious what fantastic or foolish ideas his half sister had to show them. He didn't expect that this meeting ended up revealing a very heavy secret.

Currently he is comforting Emily as the girl glares at Sera, “Please, if you start to question... You could end up like Lucifer... Fallen.” Sera says, her voice trembling slightly.

Xavier's glare hardened when the older woman mentioned a certain man he hated, Xavier just glared at Sera as the woman gave Emily a kiss on her forehead, he doesn't like how the high Seraphim is hiding a secret this big.

“Xavier.” Sera calls out to him sternly, the boy just gave the woman a raised eyebrow as his face returns to being emotionless. Sera felt chills running down her spine, Lucifer's face is unfortunately plastered on this boy's face, the fallen angel was his father after all.

“I hope you don't tell anyone about this. Especially your mother.” She pleaded and Xavier scoffs, a slight mischievous smile on his face, “Or what? Gonna cast me out to like what you did with my birth father?” he asked sarcastically, Sera's eye twitched.

“Of course, not. That isn't an enough reason to cast you out. Just... Please don't tell her.” the woman explained and Xavier scoffs.

“I love my mother and I can't bear to lie to her face, she already had enough of that. Just expect that this will reach the seven's soon.” He explained before eventually flying down and leaving the courtroom, not giving the woman a chance to speak.

Sera wanted to reach out and stop the boy but he was already gone, lowering her hand slowly. Sighing. He really is Lucifer's son, stubborn.

After all, the apple doesn't really fall far from the tree.

They're just lucky that [y/n] was able to raise the boy properly and was able to inherit most of his mom's personality. The looks however, are unfortunately from his dad.

Sera sighs again. Mentally preparing about the possibilities of what will happen if the seven virtues' know about this.

Charlie's mind was a mess after that meeting, Vaggie gave her some time and space to process everything of what happened.

She can't believe the love of her life is a fallen angel and worse, an ex exorcist! She hid something this big from her! And on top of that, she has a half older brother in heaven?!

Charlie groans, going underneath the covers as she lies on the bed.

She knows the older boy didn't lie as he literally had her father's face except for the eyes and height but everything else was an exact replica. Charlie can't help but be jealous, she could tell how much better the boy was compared to her, the boy carried an air of authority around him.

She feels guilty, she's not stupid. Her dad had that boy while he was in heaven and obviously with someone else, another angel.

Charlie wonders what kind of life her half brother is living up there?

What she does know is that the boy harbors some kind of hatred for her and her family. The boy didn't fully express it but Charlie could feel it, the bubbling rage beneath his exterior when he saw her.

She'll have to ask her dad about this later, once she's mentally okay.

Xavier returned back home, the mansion empty as his mother is away, and they don't have any servants as they prefer a quiet life.

Walking to the living room, his eyes gazed at the large portrait that was displayed on the wall of the living room—a portrait of him and his mom. Him standing at her side while she sat on a regal chair, both of them matching clothes—their heaven uniforms.

His eyes softened, he felt exhausted. Training with his uncle, meeting his half sister, and a secret Sera hid was revealed.

He can't wait for her to come back home, he needed to tell her all about this.

TAGLIST:

@valerie-36 @blackbleedingrose @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata @kouyoumarryme @sxgacxbe @kooidoom @ok-boke @random-3455 @izzieg3987 @snoozewritezz @dreamzaremyrealityy @hcneyiced @witchbunny1210 @ghostdoodlen

#lxkeee answers #hazbin hotel #lxkeee updates #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist #lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne #hazbin hotel x reader

[boiohboii]

The surprise guest (who had to be protected by the host)

Lando Norris x Leclerc! Reader

After Lando Norris had a make out session with YN Leclerc on his stream, it hadn't been intentional, he had been too scared to come face to face with any of his girlfriend's three older brothers. But when his girlfriend's mother invites him over for dinner, he can't just ignore her

or

in which Pascale Leclerc invites her daughter's boyfriend (or as she likes to call him, her fourth son) over for a family dinner

N.B: I feel like the humor isn't what most of you expected and I am so sorry, I swear I am funnier irl 😭 hope you guys like it... special thanks to @glai1023-blog and @flowerchild-96 for the idea of mama leclerc doting on Lando

For context

The brothers' reactions to the steamy stream

Social media reactions

YN had always been close to her mother, she always told her about her new hair ideas, how she wants to cook a new recipe and her crushes, so when YN started dating Lando Norris her mother was the first person to know (with the promise of not telling her brothers)

Pascale had met Lando quite a lot in the 9 months that the young couple's relationship had stayed secret from her brothers. To say Pascale adored the young Brit was an understatement.

Pascale Leclerc loved Lando Norris like her own son; she learned all his favorite foods, what are his preferred desserts and the meals he hadn't been able to taste before (so that she could make it for him)

With that being said, the Leclerc parent is always big on family. She had instilled in her childrens' head that even if you are busy, you must have a day each month for a family dinner and that all five members of the Leclerc family must be present.

Except for this month, six members were present at that dinner, and three of them were ready to kick the intruder out if it not had been for their mother hitting them on the back of their heads.

It had all started out normal- well as normal as it could be when just a week ago you had seen your sister making out with her boyfriend on live.

Pascale had been in the kitchen making dinner with the help of YN while the three male Leclercs were too traumatised by last week's events to face their sister. It's not that they didn't want to ask her questions, they really did, they wanted to interrogate her, but whenever they catch a glimpse of her they remember the phone screens showing her and her boyfriend.

Boyfriend. That was one person they would love to meet. Charles could probably know where Lando Norris is whenever he wanted, that was the perks of having the same circle of friends, team workers who were also friends and same bosses. Did he want to talk to him? No. Did he want to beat him? Yes.

The doorbell interrupted the brothers creative imagination of how they could kill the British driver. As Arthur was closest to the door he went up to see who it was, not expecting the one who they murdered 100 different ways in their haeds to be standing at the door with 2 bouquets of flowers, a box of chocolate and a box of what appeared to be a cake.

"Oh, umm, hi?"

Lando was about to piss his pants, he saw that expression change on Arthur's face, and he was the youngest of his girlfriend's brothers. With every second Arthur stared at him his heart rate increased with sweat filling his palms as his throat tightened up.

"Who is it Arthur?"

Shit, fuck. Lando knew that voice all too well, and he was not ready to have his head nailed to the front of the paddock for everyone to see.

"Oh dear, hello my son, Arthur move out of the way."

The gentle voice of Pascale Leclerc stopped any and all movements in the living room.

"SON!"

The three Leclercs exclaimed in sync, looking at the young brit with wide eyes and clenched jaws.

The boys' anger increased as they watched their mother fuss over the boy, thanking him for the flowers as she called their sister to place them in a vase, giving him a hug and kissing his cheeks.

"Oh lovely, you didn't have to bring anything. Is that your favorite dessert then?"

Lando was all too aware of the three pairs of eyes staring at him, and if looks could kill he'd be 18 feet under. Gulping, he gave Pascale an awkward smile, too scared to actually utter a word.

Noticing his trembling hands and terrified glances at her sons, Pascale glared at the young men "you three! Stop it!"

"But mum-"

"No! I don't want to hear a word out of any of you if it's not going to be nice! You should respect you sister's boyfriend and my guest!"

"It's a family dinner! You never invited any of our girlfriends to a family dinner before"

"Oh my god," now that's a familiar voice Lando loves hearing "stop being babies about it."

Moving closed, YN took the flowers from Lando's hands "ohhh, mum, he got you your favourite!"

"Thank you love." Giving him a peck on the lips, YN smiled at him, and upon hearing her brothers' groans and complains she gave him a wink before kissing him again.

■■♡■■

The three Leclerc brothers were like Hyenas, waiting for their mother to stop protecting their pray so they could have a word (with their fists.)

Sitting at the couch facing the open kitchen they watched as their mother dotted over the British driver, stretching her hand for him to taste the food on the spoon before giving her a wide smile

"You three look like Scar." YN teased as she took a seat besides Charles

"Mon ange," Charles started as he rotated in his seat making him face to face with his sister "please, why didn't you tell us?"

"YN, Lando Norris, really?" Arthur whined as he looked at his younger sister, waiting for an explanation of hers.

"You three are really insufferable," YN stated as she looked at them with a devilish smirk "if you guys are wondering why i didn't tell you, it's just cause I know you three will be earing my ear off about our relationship and yes Arthur, Lando Norris, he makes me happy and he kisses me oh so-"

"LALALALALALAAA" Arthur screamed at the top of his lungs, making his sister laugh while their mother scolded them for the noise

"No, but really," YN took a sip of water "he is really nice to me, he treats me really well and he is so respectful-"

"Oh yeah, making out on live is oh so respectful of him" Lorenzo rolled his eyes then glared at the young boy in the kitchen, getting head pats from their mother like a golden retriever.

"Oh god, don't remind me man" Charles groaned as the image he tried so hard to erase came back much more vibrant and clearer, as if the presence of Lando just solidified it in his brain.

"Okay listen," YN huffed as she crossed her arms "if you don't like him then okay, fine, I will end it before it goes any further, but it was an honest mistake on both of out parts. We're not into that kind of thing."

"God, will you stop doing that!"

"Do you want to tramatise us?"

"Oh god, I did not need to know anything about this."

Hearing her brothers whine and groan from her teasing brings YN the greatest of joys. Was she planning on actually breaking things off for her brothers? Hell no, they're not little princesses they can keep their emotions in check.

"Mon ange, are you really sure that you like him?"

"Yes!" YN insisted as she looked at him like he grew 2 heads "will you just please get to know him?"

Sighing Charles bit his tongue, not wanting to actually upset his sister with what he really wanted to say.

"Okay mon ange, I'll talk to him and I'll make sure everything is normal," Charles got up to make his way to his mother who was now in a matching apron with Lando as he listened to her every word, basking up the praises and head pats given to him "just please, if he hurts you or if you feel like you aren't his top priority don't stick around okay. You are worth so much more than a race driver."

"Aren't you one?"

"Exactly."

With that, Charles left his siblings heading off to his mother with a pout as he spotted her patting the Brit's cheek with a full smile

"God, he's so whipped for her." Arthur told his brother, shaking his head.

"Yeah well, I told him it'd bite him in the ass someday."

"Hey! I'm not that bad!"

"YN," Lorenzo looked at her with a blank expression "you take full advantage of it and you know it."

■■♡■■

It had been an hour and now the family of five and their guest are sitting at the dinner table, having their first bite of the homemade dinner.

"Oh, this tastes phenomenal Mrs Leclerc. I hadn't had that in a while"

"Oh dear, I'm so glad you like it!" Pascale cooed over the young boy, getting up to place more for him on his plate "YN told me it's one of your favourites."

"Thank you so much darling." Lando smiled at YN, feeling more at ease with the glares sent his way as Pascale Leclerc glared right back at her sons.

"Mum," Lorenzo started as he looked at the food in distaste "I don't eat that, you know."

"Well," the mother smiled at her son sarcastically, making sure to get her point across "if you don't like it, then don't eat."

"Oh, c'est brutal maman." Arthur murmured under his breath, looking at his oldest sibling in pity

("Oh, that's brutal mum")

"I said no French!" Pascale warned her youngest son before turning to her now favorite son "tell me Lando, do you like Vanilla cakes?"

"Not really no, but YN told me it's your favorite so I bought it from what I also believe to be your favorite dessert shop."

"Oh dear, you really are my favorite," four voices of a 'mum!' yelled in the dinning room which did not take any of Pascale's attention away from the British young man "you're going to make me swoon."

"Oh my god," YN whispered to her brothers "we lost her."

"Yeah well," Lorenzo grumbled at his sister "he is your boyfriend"

"I lost my mum to my boyfriend."

"Oh, he went out of his way to go to her favourite shop," Arthur stated "she's not letting him go anywhere."

"I think you lost both of them mon ange."

■■♡■■

{Taglist: @idaesrhy @masonspulisic}

#f1 x reader #f1 imagine #charles leclerc #f1 #lando norris x y/n #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x leclerc!reader #lando norris x leclerc reader #charles leclerc sister #charles leclerc x sister!reader #leclerc!reader #arthur leclerc x sister reader #older brother arthur #lorenzo leclerc x sister reader #lorenzo leclerc #older brother leclerc #older brother charles #brother!charles leclerc

[luveline]

kisses before dinner —the harrington family gets ready for a dinner party. mom!reader, 3k

"...and I told mommy she needed my help but your mom doesn't like listening to me anymore," Steve says, eyebrows pulled together, "because of that one time I told her the side of the refrigerator was supposed to feel warm and it broke. But I'm usually right."

Wren blinks at him dopily where she lies in the dip of his thighs. Steve has his knees up, back flat on the couch and head propped by a pink fluffy heart pillow from Bethie's bed to speak to her face to face. 

"I promise you'll understand when you're older. I'm a genius." He strokes her little forehead. Steve's youngest daughter is too baby to look like anybody, but he's starting to think she looks like him anyway. "And now mom has to run the washing machine again when we were already super duper busy." 

"Shut up!" you yell from the kitchen. 

Bethie giggles from the same place, seemingly, raising her voice to join in, "Yeah, daddy! Shut up!" 

"That's so not nice." Steve shakes his head at Wren in dramatic disbelief. She smiles at him. "Isn't that mean? Don't you think that's sick?" 

"You're being a know-it-all again!" you continue. "And we'd be less busy if you were helping me!" 

"I'm sick of helping," Steve says conversationally. "I help all day long." 

Wren gurgles and lifts one of her hands toward him. Steve holds it in his, rubbing at her palm with a gentle thumb. She totally gets what he's saying, agrees with him no doubt, breathing out heavily as Steve gives her hand a wave up and down. 

"Steve," you say, dropping the angry act to pull him in, "please, sweetheart, I really do need your help."

"How am I supposed to say no to that?" Steve whispers. "Does she guilt trip you that way?" 

Wren doesn't giggle, but the breathy, happy sound she makes as he crunches forward to kiss her forehead is close enough to make Steve laugh himself. He moves her carefully into the curve of his arm and stands, wishing he could stretch, exhausted by another long week but undeniably happy. "Let's go see what they want," he murmurs to Wren. 

You and Bethie are in the kitchen by the stove. She's wearing oven mitts too big for her, and you're crouched behind her offering steady instructions. "Don't touch the sides, my love. Only the baking tray. If it feels warm and you're not happy, tell me, and I'll take it straight away." You wear your own oven gloves.

"I can do it," Beth insists, squaring her features. 

Beth takes the baking tray and its cookies into her hands, walking with short steps to the counter, where she slides the tray up high. You lean over her to make sure it's settled before closing the oven and dashing a kiss into her cheek. "Well done, gorgeous girl," you say, scratching lightly at her shoulder as she preens under the praise. "One day you'll be making cookies all by yourself."

"But not for a while?" she asks, startled. 

You kiss her again. "Not for a long, long time." 

"Did you need my help or my approval?" Steve asks, his hand making a small thump with each pat he taps into Wren's back. "A taste tester, right?" 

"I need you to find your other daughters. I have no idea where they are," you say with a rueful smile. 

"Okay." Steve has carried babies. He's carried them for years, tiny ones and ones too big to need it, carried nonetheless. But something about Wren in all her newness makes him nervous. He hates carrying her up and down the stairs, too aware of the times he's missed a step or tripped up. "Can you take her?" 

"Yes!" Bethie says, running to her unofficial chair at the dining table and holding out her mitted arms as she sits. 

You nod at him and take the seat next to her. Steve hands Wren over into her sister's waiting hold, more than confident you're still there to take over if things get overwhelming. Wren looks comically large in Bethie's lap. 

"I have her, dad." Beth leans down to touch her nose to Wren's. "Hi, Wren. Hello, hello," she says softly.

Steve gives your cheek a swift but loving stroke and leaves in search of the other kids. He can hear Dove in her room talking to herself in make believe, but Avery, the oldest, isn't with her, nor is she in her bedroom. Steve knocks on the bathroom door. 

"Are you in there, Ave?" 

No answer. Steve raises his voice. "I'm coming in." 

He peeks inside slowly but she's not there. Eyebrows raised, Steve asks, "Avery, where are you?" Nothing. "Avery Harrington, don't make me worry! Please." 

He lets his head drift to one side, listening for an answer. Avery rarely gets told off and she hates it; she'd jump to tell him where she was if she were up here. 

Or so he thinks. Just as he's taking the stairs again to look for her someplace he must have missed, he hears sniffling coming from the master bedroom. 

Idiot, he thinks, relief taking tight hold. He doesn't like not knowing where the girls are. He should've checked your room to begin with. 

"Ave?" he says, opening his bedroom door. "You in here?" 

"I'm here, dad," she says, peering up from the space between the top of the bed and his nightstand, kneeling on the carpeted floor. 

"What are you doing down there? We gotta get ready for Aunt Robin's party." 

Her cheeks shine in the slice of light from the open door. Steve closes it behind him and flicks on the big light, rounding the end of the bed to help her up. He hooks his hands under her arms and pulls her into his chest, bed springs creaking as their joined weight lands. 

"Why are you crying?" he asks, cuddling her to his front. "What's wrong? Why didn't you come and find me? You can't stay here crying all by yourself, that's not cool. How am I supposed to make it better if I don't know what's wrong?" 

"Dove bit me." 

Steve gasps. "Again?" 

"On my hand, dad." She holds up her wrist. "It hurts." 

He presses his cheek to the top of her head, taking her arm tenderly to analyse the bite. It's a nasty thing, not bleeding but cruel and stark. "I'm sorry," he says. 

"You said I can't be mean–" 

"No, you can't–" 

"But it was really mean." 

"I know," he murmurs, "but I just don't… we can't be mean to Dove when she bites because she doesn't know it's wrong, okay? She doesn't remember. She knows it's the wrong thing to do, but by the time I tell her she doesn't know what she did." What Steve means is that the first time Dove bit Avery, Avery reacted on impulse and slapped her sister in the stomach. There isn't a bridge yet to connect to Dove why she might have received such a thing (though Steve teaches all the girls that hitting is never okay no matter what), so Dove just thought she was being hit. It was a very tense half hour of tears. 

Steve rubs Avery's back as she starts to cry in earnest. "I will tell her not to bite you, honey. I swear, I won't let her be mean to you. I'll tell her until she understands." 

He's been trying to teach Dove not to bite, but saying 'no' doesn't seem to do anything. Positive incentives don't last, and taking her toys wouldn't make much sense, because again, she doesn't get it. 

"You know," Steve says, wiping her cheeks tenderly, "I'll tell her again and again and again until she stops, and it'll work, because it worked with you." 

"What?" 

"You used to bite me sometimes, but you used to bite mom all the time." 

Avery looks at him in horror. "I did?" 

He puts her down onto her feet and takes her hand. He'd like to tell her this story while sitting down, but Robin's house beckons and time is running short. "Mom would come home from work and you'd be very happy to see her, but she would ask you what you did today and where we went and you'd bite her." 

He peeks into Dove's room and finds her missing. Downstairs, you say, "No! No, no, babe!" and he assumes she's been found. 

"Why would I do that?" 

Steve holds her hand buoyed between them as he descends the stairs. "We decided it was because you missed her. When your Dove's age you don't know how to say that. You don't even know what that is. I'm a thousand years old and I don't even know what I'm feeling half the time. So mom stopped hugging you after work for a bit until you calmed down." 

"But I don't go to work, dad. Why did Dove bite me?" 

"What were you doing?" 

"We were playing with Mr Scruffles and the care bears and she just bit me for no reason!" 

Steve stops at the bottom of the stairs. "Were you being a bossy boots?" 

Avery glares at him. "I just told her to stop taking Funshine bear." 

"Well," Steve says, smiling at her in apology, "maybe, next time, you can come and tell me, and then I'll tell her to stop taking Funshine bear, and then when she wants to bite someone she bites me instead of you. That could work, yeah?" He would much prefer it. 

Steve takes Avery to the kitchen, where you've transferred Wren into her bassinet while Bethie eats a cookie, her cheeks messy with chocolate, and Dove languishes in your arms, small hands touching your hair curiously. 

"Dove, will you look at this?" he asks, showing her Avery's bite mark. "You see that, honey? That's what you did when you bit your sister. We don't bite."

You gasp. "No!" you say, stern but far from cruel. "We don't bite. We only bite when we want to eat something." 

Dove frowns. 

"When you bite," Steve says, trying to appeal to her smarts. It'll stick eventually. "You give Avery an owie. That's why we can't bite, okay?" 

Dove can tell she's being chided even if she doesn't totally get why. "No," she says unhappily. 

"Can you say sorry to Avery?" you ask, reassuring her with a gentle squeeze. "Say, I'm sorry, Avery." 

"Sorry, Ave'y," she mumbles. 

Avery can't glare for long. She doesn't hold a grudge, not like her dad. "It's okay. You didn't mean to." 

You beam at Avery like she's hung the moon. "You're so nice, my big girl. Can I have a look at your wrist? Did that hurt?" 

Her mother's concern draws fresh tears. You swap children, and Dove quickly forgets what happened as Avery cries in little sniffles on the countertop. Steve brims with a familiar brand of pride as you comfort her, kissing and offering treats to help her feel better. I picked the right one might be applicable, only Steve didn't choose you so much as he happened upon you one day like a miracle, and then begged to keep you. Luckily for him, you've always been very agreeable on that front. 

(As in, you love him more than can be said in any one language.) 

"What are you upto?" Steve asks Bethie.

She shows him her food-covered hands. He nods like this is awesome, but in reality chocolate stains her t-shirt and she's going to have to change before they leave. Dove rams herself against his leg and looks up with her eyes widened. 

"What?" he asks. 

"Um…" 

"What do you want?" he asks, softer. She starts to frown again. Steve bends. "Drink? Crackers?" No dice. "What about some pear slices?" 

Dove loves pears more than anything, the sticky, sugary sliced kind from the can. Her frown disappears and she walks off, thankful to be understood. Steve's just grateful he wasn't bitten.

"What else did you need?" Steve asks, winding around you where you're cleaning Avery's cheeks. A damp washcloth drips down your arm.

"More time. Have any?" 

"Wren's bag is done, bottles done, Bethie's dinner." He whispers the last part. Bethie is a picky eater and she grows pickier with time, and Robin knows this, but she's not a parent (as sweet and caring as she might be for the girls). Only something you or Steve have made is something Bethie will deign to eat, and she's insecure about it despite having no reason to be. "Beth needs a new top. Your blouse needs to go in the dryer, and I can't find my nice pants. Avery?" 

"I don't need anything." 

"You sure? You have Mr Scruffles?" 

She wraps her arms around your neck. "Just want a hug." 

"Then I guess I'm busy while daddy does all my chores," you tease Steve lightly, your touch similarly soft where it tracks up and down Avery's arm. "I'm sorry Dove bit you again. It's not fair. Not fair at all. Maybe we should only have you playing downstairs until me and dad figure it out, okay? I don't want her to keep taking bits of you." 

Steve clears the checklist. Not to brag or anything, but he's a pro. You both are. Life is hectic as always and you knew getting out the door would be a process, so you planned accordingly, and you arrive at Robin's with time to spare, though Dove smells strongly of sugary pears and Bethie's new shirt has fingerprints on the back. 

"Hi, crew!" Robin greets. "It's my favourite Harringtons!" 

"We're your only Harringtons." 

"That's not true, I went to college with a Harrington." Robin ushers the girls inside. They want one thing and one thing alone —hugs. Dove is the most insistent, dropping your hand to offer Robin her arms. She picks the small girl up and smiles at her with a monumental amount of love. Robin doesn't have favourites but Dove demands it, sometimes. Avery says, "Hello, Aunt Robin," and hugs her stomach, while Bethie puts her arm behind Avery and hugs them both. 

Steve's arm shakes. "Any chance I can get through? This is a really heavy baby." 

"Hi," Robin says, ignoring him without guilt. "You guys are the best part about having a best friend." 

Steve logs that one for later revenge and eases around the mass of bodies to take Wren into the living room. "Holy fuck," he says, "I thought you weren't coming?" 

Eddie rolls his eyes. "I wanted to see the girls. It has nothing to do with you." 

They hug and pat each other on the back, and then Eddie drops to his knees in front of Wren's car seat to smile at her. "I love her so much. Can I have this one? Y'already have so many." 

"No you absolutely cannot. Where's Dustin?" 

"They're all in the backyard. Mora's teaching them how to make grass flutes, or something." 

"How'd you get out of that?" 

Eddie shrugs. "She doesn't like me. Doesn't make any sense, goth and metal are like brothers." 

"Is she goth? I thought we settled on hippie who wears dark clothing." 

"You guys are such losers!" Robin says, like a tree adorned in girl-shaped ornaments. "Don't bitch about Mora." 

"Don't swear in front of my kids!" 

You, having taken off your shoes and coat, unlike Steve, shimmy around the table. "He said 'fucking bitch' in front of Bethie the other day," you gossip, sitting by your friend's side. Eddie gives you a quick hug. You're undoubtedly his favourite Harrington. 

"He's a disgusting man who shouldn't have kids." 

You gasp and elbow him. "How dare you." 

"Can we go play with Stinky?" Avery asks Robin. 

Robin puts Dove down, short hair flying every which way, "If you can find him. But be nice, okay? He's agitated today. Mora says it's something about the supermoon." 

Avery laughs and Dove races to follow her sister up the stairs. "Ave, remember what I said, okay?" Steve calls after her. "Come and tell me if she's being bad! And no going in the bathroom!" 

Bethie remains, oddly. Though it's obvious why she's stayed the longer she lingers, her gaze flickering between you and Eddie. 

He holds his arms out. "Hello, Beth. You want a bro hug?" 

Bethie laughs and meanders into his waiting arms, where he pat-pat-pats her back like he did to Steve, eliciting a wave of happy giggles. "You've gotten so big again!" Eddie says, moving her away kindly. "Woah!" 

"I'm glad people have stopped saying that to me," you joke. 

Steve's delighted, laughing loud and sudden, and you're always pleased to have made him laugh, practically collapsing in his direction. He pulls at you until you're arm's reach. 

"What does that mean, Eddie?" Bethie whispers. 

Eddie pulls her into his lap. "It means your mom is happy about baby Wren being born." 

"I'm really happy too." 

"I bet you are! Your dad told me you're like his little helper, is that true?" 

Steve turns into your cheek. A quick stolen moment before he kisses under your ear and pulls away. "Wow," he says, smiling at you, "could we, like, actually have a conversation right now? A full one?" 

You beam. "What do you wanna talk about?" 

Steve could happily talk about everything and nothing with you. Before bed you guys are usually tired but excited enough to be alone together that you'll talk about the colour of the new dish soap or Avery's broken pinky nail. "Seen any good movies lately?" 

You give him the look. He practically invented it, that sticky, gooey eyed love as you murmur, "Mm, no. Don't think so. How about you?" 

He leans in for a kiss. 

"Yikes," Eddie says, covering a giggling Bethie's eyes with his hands. "Robin, house rules, please!" 

Steve drops his arms heavily over your shoulders for a warm hug. "He's just jealous," he whispers. 

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