summary: after seeing you playing and looking after kids in the paddock, lando can’t shake the thought from his head. after heading back to the hotel and having a heated night-in, lando is driven by his fantasy.
WARNINGS: 18+ content, rough sex, p in v, unprotected sex, dom! lando, breeding kink, praise kink, dirty talk.
w.c: 1.3k
a/n: welcome to day 3! never really written for lando before, so i enjoyed writing this one, and i hope you all enjoy it too. let me know your thoughts via reblog, comment or ask, i love hearing from you guys.
lando’s body presses into yours, his hands gripping your thighs as he thrusts into you, with slow, deliberate movements. his face hovers mere inches from your own, flushed cheeks and swollen lips from the night so far.
“couldn’t get you off my mind today,” he panted, smashing his lips against yours again; drawing another moan from you. “watching you with those kids… how happy you were with them..” his voice faltered as he thrusted into you even deeper, trying to keep himself together. “fuck— how good you were with them..” he trailed off, hands gripping your thighs even tighter.
the noises of pleasure that escaped you only encouraged lando on, as he kept thrusting deeply into you. he moved to your ear, panting against it before leaving a kiss below your earlobe. “made me think of how perfect you’d look with mine.”
lando felt the way you clenched around him as the words left his mouth, and his lips upturned into a smirk. he leaned back into your ear, lips brushing against it as he spoke up again. “yeah, you like that idea? you’d be so good for me, wouldn’t you?” he asked you, trailing kisses from behind your ear and down the nape of your neck. “all mine, carrying our family..”
you whined as you nodded furiously, choking on your words. “i— fuck, lan— yes,” you managed to get out, eyes fluttering shut as the vibrations from lando’s low groan coursed your body.
“good girl,” he praised gently, his lips continuing to move down south. you brought your hands to his head, fingers gripping his curls as you pushed him into your breasts, silently asking for him to continue his actions there.
lando was happy to oblige, his tongue flicking over your peaked nipple causing you to arch into him. he groaned against your skin, the sound vibrating through you as he kissed and nipped at the soft flesh, one of his hands coming up to your other breast, squeezing it softly.
lando’s lips continued to worship your chest, his hot breaths sending shivers through your body as he murmured between kisses. “you’d look so good, carrying them for me,” he told you, interrupting himself to place a flurry of more kisses. “my pretty girl, aren’t you?”
lando was looking up at you now, still at your chest but his eyes were boring into your own, waiting for you to answer him. you nodded, too flustered to speak but that wasn’t good enough for him. he moved from your chest now causing a needy whine to escape you, but you cut yourself off with a gasp as lando grabbed your chin, forcing you to look him in the eyes.
“i want an answer, baby,” he told you firmly, taking you in for a hot kiss, continuing to dominate it as his tongue slipped into your mouth. it felt like it was over as fast as it began though, as he was pulling away to look at you again. he licked his lips, breaking the string of saliva that was connecting you both together. “answer me, c’mon.”
“ ‘m your pretty girl, lan,” you panted, breathless from his kisses and his continuous thrusts. lando smirked when the words fell from your mouth, nodding happily. you were praised with another “good girl” before he focused on his thrusts again.
his hips snapped forward, thrusting deeper, more purposeful. “i’d fill you up with every chance i got,” he growled, forehead now pressing against your own, eyes locking onto you again. “make sure you’re dripping with me.”
you gasped at his words, nodding against him to let him know you were into this, liking the dirty talk. “yeah? you’d love that wouldn’t you?” he groaned, his hand moving back to your thigh, gripping it as tightly as before. “you’re perfect, so fucking perfect for me, baby. giving me everything.”
your back arched into him, his praise and dirty talk driving you closer to the edge. he slowed his thrusts for a moment, wanting to drag out the tension a little longer. leaning closer, his lips were centimetres away from your own.
“im gonna fuck a baby into you,” he whispered against your lips, attentive eyes watching as yours rolled back, savouring the pornographic moan that left your mouth. “can’t wait to fill you up,” he finished off, before his lips were on yours once more.
lando’s pace picked up again as the both of you continued to share sloppy, yet heated kisses. each thrust was deep, pressing his body into yours as his hot breath hit your skin.
“god, you’re so fucking tight,” he groaned, voice thick with desire as he pulled away. he leaned down, placing kisses over your neck again –as if the kisses he had left before has vanished – having to remark his trails. this time he added nips and small sucks in, dark blotches of purples and reds appearing on the skin he attacked. “i could stay inside you forever,” he mumbled against your neck, panting as he regained his breath. “fill you up as much as i want.”
you whimpered at his words, feeling them sink deep, your body already on edge. lando felt the way you clenched around him, your breathing becoming more erratic, and it only fuelled him more.
moving back, he watched you for a moment. you were dazed, the pleasure almost overwhelming but you were still hanging in there, just for him. he leaned closer, placing a kiss on your cheek to get your attention, your clouded eyes focusing in on him, slightly tilting your head.
“want me to cum in you?” he teased, his voice a low whisper. his words and the tone he spoke them in went right through your body, jolts of pleasure sparking in every direction. his hips suddenly started to move torturously, keeping you on edge. “want me to fill you up, baby?”
your moan was needy and desperate, your body trembling beneath him as you tried to buck your own hips to try make him pick up the pace once more; though to no avail, you couldn’t form words, only nodding frantically as your hands clutching onto lando’s back, nails digging into his flesh. the only words you managed to pant out were “please lando—” before another moan got caught in your throat.
lando chuckled darkly, clearly enjoying how gone you were. “i know you want it,” he whispered, his lips right against your ear like earlier. he nibbled on your earlobe, causing a whine to escape you, but it quickly turned into a gasp. lando smirked against your ear— you could feel it— he knew what he was doing. his hand had slipped between your bodies, nimble fingers finding your clit as he rubbed slow, teasing circles. “i need to hear you say it, pretty girl. tell me you want me to cum in you.”
you were overwhelmed and couldn’t think straight, but you knew lando would deny you your orgasm if you didn’t do as he said. “i want it,” you cried out, voice trembling with desperation. “i want— need you to fill me up, lando.”
that was all it took. lando’s thrusts became erratic, harder and faster, and the desperation in his movements was mirroring your own. “fuck— i’ll fill you up, baby. you’ll be dripping. and i might need to fuck it back into you with my fingers,” he growled, his dirty talk pushing you over the edge as your body tensed, before the orgasm crashed throughout you.
lando wasn’t far behind you, his hips snapping forward as he buried himself deep inside you. a guttural moan left his lips as he spilled inside you, fulfilling his promise and bringing his fantasy to life.
Tags: Tommy x Reader, Joel x Reader, Tommy's Wife Reader, infidelity, emotional affair, slow burn (as much as you can get for 5 chapters), Tommy goes to jail, Reader has had a child
Notes: Things are getting a little spicy hehe. As usual, shout out to my beta readers @janaispunk and @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin (special shout out to Ang for the ✨spicy✨ idea 😜) and @saradika-graphics for the dividers!
Words: 4818
Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Daily Clicks for Palestine & Other resources
When Joel asks you to watch Sarah on Friday night, you don’t hesitate to say yes. Then, two minutes later you call him back and ask why. You’re surprised when he tells you he has a date. You should tease him, nag for details, but it’s none of your business. You find yourself wanting to know everything and nothing.
Joel is a grown-ass man. A single man at that, but it nags at you. Who is she? Where did he meet her? The two of you spend most of your free time together. In the six years you’ve known Joel, you can’t remember him ever mentioning a woman.
His sole focus has always been Sarah. You suppose Tommy is on that list too, and Nathaniel. The two of you have matching worry lines thanks to your husband, and you guess by default you’re on the list too. If there’s one thing Joel Miller is committed to, it’s family.
Joel comes down in dark-wash jeans and a simple button-down. You didn’t know he owns jeans that nice, hugging his thighs, leather belt cinched at his waist. Your eyes rake over him perhaps a moment longer than needed. He hadn’t looked that nice at your and Tommy’s courthouse wedding.
You raise an eyebrow letting out a low whistle as he enters the kitchen. “Lucky lady.” You take a bite from your apple slice. You point the paring knife at his jeans. “Those new?”
Joel knits his eyebrows together. “No. Why?”
“I’ve never seen them before.”
“You keep tabs on my closet?”
“We’ve basically lived together for 3 years. You wear the same two pairs of work jeans and five ratty T-shirts in rotation. I wouldn’t be surprised if your shirts have the days of the week labeled on the inside.”
“Church clothes.”
You scowl. “We don’t go to church.”
“Speak for yourself, Darlin.” He chuckles, checking his watch, the one you gave him for Father’s Day. You shoot him a suspicious look. “The kids out back?”
“Yup.” You say, taking another bite of apple.
Joel’s fingertips brush across your shoulders as he passes by, the warmth of his cologne fills your nostrils as he rushes out. A pit settles deep in your stomach. You’re not sure where it stems from, but you don’t like it. You feel uneasy.
The back door shuts just as a tap on the front door echoes through the house. You sigh, not really wanting to answer it. The pit grows and you still don’t understand where it’s coming from. Sarah and Nathaniel’s muted laughter filters through as you open the door.
She’s pretty you think. Not someone you consider to be a show-stopper, but exactly what you would picture Joel going for. There’s something almost familiar about her. She looks taken aback when you open the door. You plaster your well-practiced Southern hospitality smile on your face.
“I’m Joel’s sister-in-law. Just here to watch the kids.” You hold out your hand. Relief floods her features.
“Tracy.” She takes your hand.
“Nice to meet you.” You can’t shake the nagging air of familiarity about her. It itches your brain, hanging on the tip of your tongue. Have you seen her at parent pick-up before? “Joel should be back soon. He’s just saying goodnight.”
Tracy nods, clutch held tight in both hands. Maybe it makes you an asshole, but you don’t invite her in, forcing her to stand at the threshold of an open door. She wears a solid dress. Her makeup is tasteful and leagues ahead of anything you’d ever be able to pull off, especially with a rowdy toddler.
For a second you miss it. The freedom that is. You wouldn’t give up Nathaniel for the world. Hell, you wouldn’t give up Tommy for the world even with the shit you’re going through, but the ability to go out at a moment’s notice and let the alcohol loosen your inhibitions, you miss that. Tracy couldn’t be much older than you. Maybe a year or two. Did you go to high school together? Is that why she looks familiar?
There’d been a couple Tracys in your small high school, but none that look like her.
“You have a son, right?” Tracy says. You nod. She smiles as if proud of herself for remembering the fact. “Joel mentioned that you two do a lot together- with his brother being in prison.”
“Yeah, we do.” Your shoulders stiffen and your smile tightens. So this wasn’t their first date. They knew each other well enough for Joel to divulge your business like it was front-page news. Though, you suppose it had made the paper.
“Well, I got them both riled up for ya,” Joel says, walking through the house. He plays with the cuffs of his shirt before looking up. He seems startled to find the door wide open and Tracy on the other side. “Oh- Hi.”
“Hi,” Tracy laughs.
He looks between the two of you like he’s seen a ghost. You cross your arms, a faint smirk playing across your lips. “Just remember payback’s a bitch.”
“Yeah... I don’t doubt it.” Joel almost mutters it under his breath. He joins Tracy on the other side of the threshold, pressing a distracted kiss to her cheek. “You ready to go?”
You catch the weirdness of Joel’s demeanor, familiar with all of his tendencies by now. You raise an eyebrow in question, but Joel won’t look you in the eye. His arm wraps around Tracy’s waist, pushing her toward his pickup.
“Make yourself at home.” Joel throws his hand up in a wave despite his back being turned to you.
“Always do!” You call back.
You watch them until the truck is out of the driveway, confusion written across your face as you process the odd interaction. Why was Joel acting so weird- like you weren’t supposed to meet the mysterious lady he’d obviously been out with more than once, and why hadn’t he told you yet? And why did she look so damn familiar?
The moment the door clicks behind you, it hits. You freeze. The familiarity in her face is one you see every time you look in the mirror. She’s not your twin by any means, but Tracy could be your cousin, your sister even. Something you can’t place settles in your gut.
The kids are finally asleep. The TV drones on, but you don’t hear a sound of it. The whole interaction plays on repeat in your mind. You chew on your thumbnail. You can’t stop thinking about them, where they are, and what they might be doing.
You glance down at your watch. 10:30. You don’t typically go to bed this early, and you’re not tired, but you can’t get it off your mind. Sleep is your only option for relief.
Checking on the kids, you slip into Joel’s room. You’ve stayed in here more times than you can count as Joel always insists you stay in his bed. It’s automatic how you pull one of his shirts from the drawer. Not one of his five shitty work shirts but one of the well-worn ones he wears on the weekend after he showers. They’re soft. They smell like him, sawdust and old spice, not the cologne you caught on him this evening. You slip under the cool sheets, stretching out your bare legs and burying your face in his pillow. You’re surrounded by him here.
You thought it would turn off the thoughts, silence your mind, but it doesn’t. If anything they ramp up. You know there’s no way Joel’s had her here. He wouldn’t bring a strange woman into his home, Sarah’s home, that quickly. No, it’s all him in here… and you.
It’s just after eleven. You’re not asleep. Joel’s not home and your mind is running through the memories as it often does when you lay alone. You’ve spent more nights alone than with someone since you got married. You should be used to it, but you’re not. There should be someone next to you right now.
Tossing and turning, an idea sparks in your mind. There’s one surefire way to get yourself to sleep. The mere thought sets desire through your veins. Goosebumps prickle your flesh. Your nipples perk up under Joel’s soft shirt. It’s been a while since you’ve touched yourself.
Kicking the blankets off of you, you let your fingers skim over your bare thighs, moving them upward until your shirt is tucked under your breasts. Joel’s shirt. It has you pausing. This crosses so many lines. You can’t do this here, in your brother-in-law’s bed, in Joel’s bed where it smells like him. Where it feels like him.
Your cunt clenches and a soft groan escaped from your lips. You’ve barely touched yourself, not enough for that response. Your heart rate refuses to calm down, the flame of desire already spreading from deep in your stomach. You shouldn’t do this, not here, but your fingers trace up and over your sternum again, slipping under Joel’s shirt. You brush your thumb over the hardened buds. You’ll change the sheets tomorrow. He’ll never know.
A soft moan tumbles over your lips. Your body moves of its own volition, pressing into your touch. Your hands move down and across your skin. You run them over your favorite places to be touched, everywhere except where you want to be touched the most. You avoid it, waiting until your panties start to cling to you, excess moisture soaking into them. A finger runs over the seam of your lower lips. Another moan falls from your mouth, hips bucking up.
You push down your panties, flinging them off once they hit your ankles. Your fingers slip between your folds. You’re slick, spreading it up and down, over and around your clit as need builds in your body. Another moan threatens to fall from your mouth, each one growing in volume. You bite down on the collar of Joel’s shirt. Another whiff of him overtakes you. Your cunt clenches as you finally slip a finger in and then a second.
The house is dark when Joel gets back. He feels like a dick. He’d been distracted the whole time. He saw it the moment he spotted the two of you together- the resemblance. He felt like an idiot for not seeing it sooner, and even more when he couldn’t stop thinking about you the whole night. There’s nothing wrong with Tracy. She’s perfectly nice, but the bubble has popped. She’s not you. He won’t be seeing her again.
It doesn’t help that he knew he’d come home to a dark house. He knows you’re asleep in his bed right now in one of his shirts, and Lord help him, it kept him distracted all night.
He’s quiet as he walks up the stairs so as to not wake you or the kids. He stares at his bedroom door, taunting him. You’re in there and he knows what you feel like sound asleep in his arms. You haven’t talked that night. In fact, you’ve acted like it never happened and he’s followed suit. He wonders if he could slip behind you now. If you would let him hold you.
He lets out a long sigh, fighting with himself. He needs to slip in, grab a pair of sweats, but he’s not sure if he’ll be able to pull himself out. He can sleep in his boxers, maybe find some sweats in the laundry. His hand drops from the door.
He’s going to walk away. He’s not going to cross that line again. That’s his brother’s wife. The woman Tommy told him to take care of. He has to stop this. He can’t- and then he hears it. Soft and quiet at first. A soft gasp that hitches, like it got caught on something.
He freezes. It’s probably nothing, a dream, his imagination. Then he hears it again, this time pitched lower, like it comes from a deeper place. He can’t discount that one. As much as his brain screams at him to go, run, his feet stay anchored to the floor. He’s desperate to hear it again, and he’s rewarded with another moan.
They’re intentional. You’re doing that to yourself in his bed. He bites his lip, hand falling to the door frame to stabilize him. He shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t be envisioning you spread out on his bed, toes curling against his sheets. The blood rushes straight to his cock and Joel knows he’s about to cross a line he can’t come back from.
Another moan comes out of the room. He flips open the button of his jeans, hand slipping beneath the waistband stroking his already hard cock. Maybe it makes him a creep, but he’s never been more grateful for the thin walls in the house.
Your noises of pleasure grow. Joel bites back his own, nails digging into the door frame. Precum leaks from the tip of his dick. He catches the way your moans grow more desperate as you take yourself closer. He works himself to the edge with you, wanting to hold off until you’re there.
You’re so close to falling over the edge. Your fingers glide over your clit with ease, soaked with your slick. You’ve been pushing the images away the whole time, trying not to go there, but the closer you pull yourself to bliss, the harder it is to keep them at bay. Your eyes drift shut as you lean into the feeling, willing yourself over the edge. They flash in your mind, pictures of him over you, calloused hands running over your bare body, his deep baritone in your ear as he pulls you apart. The tension between your thighs breaks free. You don’t realize how loud you cry out, ears ringing with pleasure as his name effortlessly rolls off your lips.
You lay there, still, chest heaving. Not Tommy’s name. Joel’s.
Before you have time to comprehend what just happened, it breaks through the silence. A soft, bitten back moan on the other side of the door in a tone you can only recognize as his and the faint whispers of your name. Your eyes widen. Had he…?
Your brain races with the possibilities as you lay bare, tshirt pushed above your breasts. He could walk in. You hadn’t locked the door. You could open the door to him, take his hand, invite him into his own bed.
You cringe. When did you become this person? The one who lusts after another man while married? As much as you’re ashamed, you fight against the temptation. You want to give in. You want to be touched and desired again. You’d seen it in Joel’s eyes that night at the beach. He would give you what you needed. Before you can make a decision, you hear the steps creak. He’s walked away.
You let out a deep breath, not sure if you’re disappointed or relieved. You roll over, burying your head in Joel pillow, wrapping yourself in his comforter, cunt still slick and dripping.
Lucky for Joel, he’s able to find clean sweats in the dryer and then starts the washer with his jeans and boxers, washing away all evidence of his sins.
He settles on the couch with just the decorative pillow and throw blanket. It’s hot anyway so the blanket is quickly kicked to his feet. He can’t put it out of his mind. Any of it. You.
He tries not to think about the sounds you made in his bed, the things you did. He tries not to think about you asleep in his arms, but with all things, the more you try not to think about them, the more you do.
Joel has accepted that he’s not a good man. His intentions with you are no longer pure, but self seeking. Yes, he cares for you and your well being, but he wants you. He needs you near him. He needs you to realize he’s been here through it all. That Tommy has done nothing to be worthy of you. Joel has spent more of your marriage being your husband than Tommy has.
He clenches his fists. Anger surges through him. Joel doesn’t care if it makes him a bad person. If he had a way to go and turn back time, he would. He’d find a way to meet you before Tommy did. He would make you his. He would save you from the heartache of being Tommy’s wife. You would be his Mrs. Miller.
Joel wishes he’d kissed you at the beach. He wanted to. God knows how badly he’d wanted to. It took every last ounce of self control not to. His stores are depleted. Between that and tonight, Joel has no more restraint to offer this situation. If you ever give him the chance again, he won’t hold back. He doesn’t care that you’re married to his brother. You deserve better. You deserve the world. Joel believes he can give it to you.
You both sleep better than you have in weeks.
“I never understood back to school nights,” Joel grumbles, stuffing a store bought chocolate chip cookie in his mouth and washing it down with cheap faculty room coffee. “Want some?”
“You know I don’t drink caffeine after two.”
Joel shrugs, taking another sip. “It’s not that good anyway.”
You roll your eyes. “What about back to school nights makes you grumpy? It’s a chance for Sarah to see where she’ll spend most of her time for the next nine months.”
“Then where is she?” Joel raises an eyebrow. “Out on the playground because it only takes 5 seconds to see the classroom and she’d rather play with her friends.”
“You’re a grump.”
“Yeah, a grump who’d rather be watching the game.”
You roll your eyes, swatting his shoulder. “Have you at least talked to her teacher yet?”
He grimaces. “Haven’t worked up the courage yet.”
It isn’t that Joel doesn’t want to know the person responsible for educating his child. It’s the fact that Sarah has a knack for ending up with the young, single teachers as her educators, ones who seem very interested in her father as more than a parent. He’d been granted reprieve last year, but you’d caught the visible shudder in his frame the moment he’d laid eyes on Sarah’s teacher for the year, young and not a ring on her left hand in sight.
“Stop judging a book by its cover. You’re a grown up.”
“Fine.” He sets down his coffee with determination. “Let’s go.” His hand finds your waist as he propels you both toward the teacher.
“What are you doing?” Your eyebrows knit together. You have a sneaking suspicion you know what he’s playing at.
“We’re going to meet Sarah’s teacher.” He shrugs, but a smile plays at the corners of his mouth. “Mrs. Miller.”
Your stomach does little flips. You’ve been mistaken for his Mrs. Miller more times than you can count at this point. You’ve attended Sarah’s parent teacher conferences when Joel got held up at a job sight, letting the teachers assume whatever they wanted. You are Mrs. Miller after all. But you’ve never done anything like this, not alongside him.
He introduces himself and you to Miss Holly as he tugs you in closer to his right side. Your left arm instinctively wraps around his middle and you see the moment she watches the glint of your engagement and wedding ring under the fluorescent lights.
It’s hardly the first time you’ve been mistaken for Joel Miller’s wife, but it is the first time he’s played into the assumption on purpose, with confidence. It’s the first time you let your mind forget it’s not true, even for just a few seconds, playing a part that doesn’t feel like playing at all. Joel lets his southern charm show now, protected by the guise of you as his bride. Before you know it, it feels too natural. Joel’s hand falls a bit, grasping your hip, tugging you closer like it’s the most natural thing in the world. You think maybe it is.
Joel leads the conversation. You’re too caught up in the feel of his hand on your hip and the breathing of his chest under your palm. The night you almost kissed, the night you crawled into his bed and he held you through some of the best sleep you’ve gotten in years flashes in your mind. You think back to just last week, his name on your lips, that strangled, soft moan, and your own name you swear you heard.
“It was nice meeting you, Mr. and Mrs. Miller,” Sarah’s teacher says, pulling you from your thoughts.
Joel offers his own goodbyes and you echo them, still fighting the haze inside your own mind. You wonder if there’s a world where this is your life, one where you and Joel aren’t playing make believe. One where you crawl in bed beside him every night instead of your empty bed. It’s an awful thought. Your husband gets released from prison in a few weeks. These thoughts will be gone by then. They have to be.
It was one night of indiscretion, two at the most, and you never actually did anything. You didn’t know Joel was on the other side of that door. Tommy doesn’t need to know. By his own admission, he’s actually crossed those boundaries. He’s broken your wedding vows. You glance at Joel’s profile as he leads you out of the classroom, a proud smirk on his face. The bastard enjoyed that way too much.
When you make it to the hall, his fingers lace through yours. Is he forgetting too? Giving himself a moment to linger in the unspoken what ifs that seem to crowd around you these days.
He drops your hand once you’re outside in view of the playground. He waves Sarah over, but you stay a couple steps behind, deep in thought until someone calls your name. Your head snaps in their direction. Julia and Micky Hall stand before you. Your eyes widen in recognition. Micky was one of Tommy’s Army buddies. They’d moved to Dallas after the group came back from their deployment.
“Hi,” the words fall from your mouth in shock. “I didn’t know y’all were back in Austin.” Your feet carry you toward the couple.
“Just moved back last month,” Julia says as you move to hug her and then Micky. “We’ve been meaning to call.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s just good to see you both.” The smile across your face is genuine as you talk to your friends. You’d grown apart since their move. Other than Joel, Julia had been your closest friend during Tommy’s deployment. “How have you been? The boys?”
“Starting first grade,” Julia grins, pointing to her twin boys on the playground.
Your eyes catch them, running around. “They’ve grown so much.”
“How’s Nathaniel?” Julia asks.
“Good, growing like a weed as I’m sure you’re familiar with.”
“Too familiar,” Julia laughs.
“Nathaniel isn’t going into Kindergarten, is he?” Micky asks.
“Next year. I came for Sarah’s back to school night. Joel’s daughter.” You point to where Sarah is just rushing over to her father. You feel the ghost of Joel’s touch when you utter his name. “We’ve been helping each other out a lot with everything.”
The couple nods, an awkward silence forming between you as if they don’t want to address the elephant in the room. The heat has let up a little bit as the sun begins to dip behind the trees.
“I’ve written to Tommy a couple of times,” Micky says, hands tucked into his front pockets. “Haven’t heard back much.”
You force a nod, feeling the tension grow in your limbs. “I haven’t been able to get much from him.”
You catch the way both their eyes widen. They were there the night you and Tommy met. They’d seen the way you fell, both of you. How inseparable your bond is, or was.
“Shit,” Micky says, running a hand over his face. “How are you holding up?”
“Not sure I am most days. Joel’s been a big help to us.” It feels like you’re concealing the whole truth. Joel’s been the crutch keeping you going most days. Julia’s brow furrows with concern.
Micky nods. “I’d like to go see him if that’s okay.”
“Of course. Maybe you can get through to him.”
“And we should get the kids together,” Julia adds. “Catch up ourselves.”
“That would be nice,” you smile at her as you catch Joel and Sarah waiting by the truck, laughing about something. “I should go, but you should call. Number’s still the same.”
“I’ll use it.” Julia smiles as you wave at both of them before crossing the parking lot with a weird feeling in your gut.
Seeing Julia and Micky was nice. It brought back a lot of good memories. The four of you. It’s another reminder of how lonely the last years have been. How much you’ve depended on Joel. How much he’s been there.
As you join Joel and Sarah at the truck, Sarah catches you up on all her friend’s summer vacations and updates, mouth moving a million miles a minute. She doesn’t stop as you climb in or for the click of your seat belt. You stay quiet, watching Austin wiz by out the passenger side window.
When Joel pulls into your driveway, you let out a sigh staring at the door. He leans over the center console, keeping his voice low. “You okay, Darlin? You’ve been quiet since we left.”
“Just tired. I’ll see y’all tomorrow.” You fling the door of the pick up open.
“Darlin?”
You bristle, smoothing out your skirt as you turn to face him. His brows knit together. “I’m fine, Joel.”
“You’re coming over tomorrow, right Aunt Bonnie?”
“Of course, Sarah Bear.” You blow her a kiss, shutting the door before Joel can protest. He makes sure you’re inside before pulling out of the driveway.
Nathaniel is already asleep thanks to an afternoon at the playground and the magic your sitter works. You pay her extra tonight. You’ve never been more thankful to come home to a sleeping child, too distracted by the run in with your friends and Joel’s hot hands on you, the way he held you as if to tell the world to back off, you’re his.
You pull the bottle of Tequila out of the cabinet. You’re tempted to pull straight from the bottle but you pour a finger or so into a glass instead. Your mother raised you better than that. She also raised you better than to pine after your brother in law.
You throw back the whole glass. The cheap liquor burns your throat. You ran out of the good stuff last week with Joel and hadn’t made it to the liquor store yet. Joel had drunk you under the table, your tolerance not what it used to be. Not that you had ever been able to keep up with him. You fill the glass with another finger and toss it back. You can’t think about Joel. Can’t think about the way your wedding bands burn against your skin as if they are punishing you for tonight, for last week, for Father’s Day and for everything else.
You pour more tequila into the cup, but you add ice and margarita mixer this time, knowing the first two shots will catch up to you soon enough. You fall onto the couch with a sigh. Three weeks. Just three weeks and Tommy will be back. You won’t see Joel everyday. Your husband will take care of you, satisfy you. That’s all this is. The deprivation of the last two and a half years. You can make it three more weeks.
You try to reason it away. It makes sense. You and Joel have been so close in all this. He’s been your partner, not your husband, but partner. He’s an attractive man, thoughts were bound to pop up, lines were bound to get blurry, but all will correct itself when Tommy’s home. Yes, it all makes perfect sense.
You take a sip of the margarita. Condensation trickles down your hand and ice rattles in the glass. Even as the numbness of the tequila shots begins to take over your body, the reassurances feel weak.
Even if you can’t admit it, something has shifted. You and Joel are playing with fire.
Three more weeks you push. Tommy will be home. You’ll have Your Tommy back.
But you can’t erase the last two and a half years. Tonight, with the ghost of his hands on your body, you remember all the ways Joel has been there for you over these past years, filling in the gaping caverns Tommy left.
Summary: Spencer and (Y/N) didn't get along, and it annoyed the whole BAU. But when a traumatized (Y/N) shows up at Spencer's apartment late one night, their whole relationship shifts
Warnings: PTSD, trauma, references to torture, other canon-typical topics
Word Count: 3827
Author’s Note: not necessarily my best fic, but i’ve been working on it for over a year so... here it is
Orpheus - Sara Bareilles
AO3 Link
“Don't stop trying to find me here amidst the chaos. Though I know it's blinding, there's a way out.” ~ Sara Bareilles, Orpheus
~
“Guys, I want you to meet our newest team member,” Hotch said to the BAU as they settled around the table. “This is Agent (Y/N) (L/N).”
You gave a shy wave to the group in front of you, but your smile was bright enough to light up the entire room. “Hi.”
“She’s coming to us from Organized Crime. I trust that you’ll all welcome her to the team.”
“Honestly, I’m just happy to be given a chance to work with all of you. It’s been my dream to work at the BAU for years.”
“We’ll have time to get to know Agent (L/N) better on the plane. But for now, we have a case,” Hotch said. “JJ?”
~
“So,” Derek said, taking a seat next to you on the jet. “What was Organized Crime like?”
“Honestly? Boring as all hell. It was mostly stopping money laundering and drug cartels,” you said. “Not as glamorous as Goodfellas makes it seem. Besides, the BAU was always my end goal anyway.”
He chuckled a bit. “Yeah, I get that. We’re glad to have you on our team. ” The conversation between you and Morgan flowed easily and before you knew it, you had become like brother and sister. The rest of the team grew to love you too. Well, most of the team.
Spencer seemed icy and cold toward you, and no one could offer a valid explanation. By all accounts, you should have gotten along. You loved Halloween just as much as Spencer did and you always had at least 3 books on your person at a time. You had a borderline unhealthy addiction to caffeine and sugar and spent more time in the office than your apartment. But for some reason, you and Spencer just seemed to constantly be at each other’s throats.
In your defense, Reid had started it.
For whatever reason, Reid disliked you right out the gate. He tried to be civil toward you, but something about you just bothered him.
He originally just tried to avoid you when he could, but with the nature of the team’s dynamic, that didn’t work out well.
Spencer found himself doing small, petty things to annoy you, like putting your favorite mug on the top shelf where you couldn’t reach it or borrowing your pens and “forgetting” to return them. Something about seeing you mildly inconvenienced and annoyed as opposed to your normally happy and bubbly self made him feel better. He knew it was fucked up of him.
Eventually, the animosity became mutual. You and Spencer were rarely paired together on cases because Hotch couldn’t stand the constant arguing between the two of you. Mostly, Hotch tended to pair you with Derek who you began to see as a brother.
Spencer would never admit it, but seeing you and Derek be as close as you were stirred some kind of jealousy in him. He figured it was just because he had been friends with Morgan first, that was all.
~
Local cases were always extra stressful on the team. Something about unsubs being so close to home made the cases more personal. As such, tensions were running high and no one had slept in over 24 hours as the team worked to nail down a profile.
“This doesn’t make sense,” you muttered as you looked over the crime scene photos. “The crime profiles as disorganized but the victimology and timeline profile him as organized.”
“How you doing there, Pretty Girl?” Morgan asked, setting down a carrier of coffee cups.
You sighed and picked up the cup with your name scrawled on it. “There’s discrepancies in our preliminary profile and I can’t…”
“Did you try comparing notes with Reid?”
“Derek, I love you, but are you insane?”
“I’m serious, (Y/N).”
“So am I. Any time I try to have any kind of civilized conversation with that man he turns it into an argument.”
Thankfully, Hotch came into the room at that point, stopping the conversation. “We have two potential leads. Morgan, you’re going with Blake to the first address. (L/N), you and Reid are going to the second.” Hotch tossed you both keys for SUVs. “Reid and Blake have the files. They’ll fill you in on the drive.”
“Yes, sir.” You grabbed your coffee from the table, along with Reid’s, and headed out to the car. When you got to the parking lot, Reid was already leaning against the car, flipping through a file folder. “Reid. Here.”
As you handed him the coffee, he said, “What, was everyone else busy?”
You rolled your eyes. “I don’t know. I’m just following Hotch’s orders.” You unlocked the car and climbed in. “Where are we going?”
“21 Rock Creek Road, Somerset. We’re interviewing Linda Walsh, the neighbor of our first victim, Savanna Curtis.”
“Great. Can you type it into the GPS?”
“Why? I can just give you the directions.”
“Because the GPS is more accurate.”
“(L/N), I have an eidetic memor-”
“Eidetic memory, I know. But you’re telling me your memory can predict traffic patterns? I don’t think so. Just use the damn GPS.”
“Fine.” Spencer typed the address in, muttering under his breath.
“Thank you. What information do we have on Walsh?”
“72 years old, she was reportedly in the house when Curtis was attacked and taken to the secondary location. Hotch wants us to interview her and see if she noticed anything that might help us with the profile.”
Soon enough, the two of you pulled up to the witness’s house. Before even getting out of the car, you felt like something was wrong.
”Wait, Reid.” You grabbed his arm as he reached for the door handle. “Something about this doesn’t feel right.”
“What do you mean?”
“Look at the windows. All of them are dark. Not even a television glow. Something’s off.”
“I hate to say it, but you’re right.”
You hopped out of the car and pulled your gun from your side, following Reid up the path to the house. He knocked on the front door.
“I don’t hear anything from inside.” He knocked again. “Go around the back, see if you can get in that way.”
You nodded and walked around the house. You could hear Reid continuing to knock as you went around. As you rounded the corner, a sharp pain entered your shoulder. You yelled and turned around, but not before a blunt object hit you in the temple and your vision faded.
~
Spencer was panicking. You were missing, and it was his fault. He was pacing in the front yard of Walsh’s home while the team and the local authorities worked to catch up.
“Reid, what happened?” Hotch asked. “We need everything.”
Spencer relayed every detail from the moment the two of you pulled up to the house, still pacing. “I shouldn’t have told her to go off on her own, it’s my fault-”
“Kid, breathe,” Morgan told him. “You didn’t know this would happen. What’s important now is finding her and bringing her home safe.”
The team did a thorough inspection on Mrs. Walsh’s home and learned a good deal. Mrs. Walsh wasn’t home, as was reported. However, her son, Devin, was clearly staying with her. It didn’t take the team long to figure out he was the unsub.
~
When you awoke, you were in a secondary location. Your head was throbbing behind your eyes and your shoulder was in agony. Your arms were tied behind your back, but that was the only restraint to your mobility. You looked around, trying to figure out where you were. It was a large, open space, you guessed a warehouse, probably abandoned. It was dark, except for the glow of the streetlights outside and an industrial lamp in the center of the room. You didn’t have much time to assess your surroundings, though, because Walsh was waiting for you to wake up.
You knew the facts of the case. You saw the photos. He kept the women for 24 hours, torturing them until their bodies were barely recognizable. Then, he’d kill and dump them.
But you also knew your team. They were relentless. And they would save you.
~
“We’ve seen what he does to his victims. We’re in a race against the clock here,” Morgan argued with Hotch.
“But we still have to keep our heads and follow the law. If we don’t get a warrant, any evidence we do find goes right out the window.”
“Guys, Garcia found something,” JJ said. She put her phone on speaker. “Go ahead, Garcia.”
“So, Walsh’s dear old dad was the owner of a warehouse in the 80s. The warehouse is still in his name but has since been abandoned. And before you even ask, yes, I sent you the address.”
~
The SUVs pulled up to the warehouse and the team jumped out. The plan was to enter the building slow and quiet, but that changed when they heard you scream, followed by a gunshot. Then, everything went silent. Completely silent.
Everyone rushed into the building. The team was terrified of what they were about to find. What they saw, no one could have expected.
You were lying unconscious on the floor, in a pool of blood. Also on the floor, with a bullet hole through his forehead, was Devin Walsh. Standing with a gun in her hands was 72 year old Linda Walsh, tears running down her face.
“I had to,” she said, looking at Hotch. “He was gonna kill her.”
“We need a medic!”
~
The team was sitting around your hospital bed. The doctor had said you probably wouldn’t wake up for a while, but they were determined to have someone there with you when you did.
“We should take shifts,” JJ suggested. “That way there’s always someone here and the rest of us can get some rest, too.”
“That’s a good idea. Dave and I can take the first shift,” Hotch said. “We’ll do four-hour rotations in pairs.”
They talked through who would pair up and take what rotations before Rossi shooed the rest of the team out.
Eventually, Reid and Morgan were on their “shift.” Morgan glanced over at Reid, who was staring at the same page of a book.
“You ever gonna flip that page?”
“What if she doesn’t wake up?”
“Kid, you heard the doctor. She will.”
“But what if she doesn’t? It would be my fault. I’m the one who made her go off by herself. We were supposed to be a team and I couldn’t see past-” He cut himself off, shaking his head.
“Hey,” Morgan put his hand on Spencer’s shoulder, “it’ll be okay, Reid. I’m gonna go grab a coffee. Want one?”
“Sure.” After Morgan left, Spencer looked at you and sighed. Your body was wrapped in casts and bandages. “Hey, (L/N),” he said, reaching out and resting his hand on top of yours.
~
One thing you didn’t expect about being in a medically induced coma was to still hear everything going on around you. You could hear the doctors and nurses moving about your room. You could hear your teammates. You heard Hotch and Rossi talking about the paperwork they’d have to file on the case because an agent had been seriously injured. You heard the music Penelope insisted on playing, and you heard Spencer.
“Hey, (L/N),” you heard him say. “I don’t know if you can hear me but,” he took a deep breath, “I’m sorry. Not just for this. I mean, obviously for this. I never should have split us up, I never should have sent you around the back of the house, I never should have-” he stopped himself. You could hear the tightness in his voice. Was he crying? No, Reid wouldn’t be crying over you. Would he? But he continued. “I was awful to you. I mean, I was an asshole,” he said with a dry laugh. “There’s no other word for it. I was an asshole to you and there was no excuse. I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I-”
~
“One cup of sugar with a splash of coffee,” Derek said, coming back into the room.
“Thanks.” Reid took the cup in both his hands, grateful for a distraction from his guilt.
“Any change?”
He shook his head. “None.”
Derek sighed. “You know, part of me was really hoping she’d wake up in the five minutes I was gone.” He gripped your hand that wasn’t casted up. “We miss you, Pretty Girl.”
~
Your coma lasted for about 3 weeks. The doctors kept you in the hospital for observation for another full week before finally letting you go home.
During your recovery, your apartment was practically a revolving door. Just about the entire team came by to check on you and keep you company, with the exception of Spencer. You couldn’t say you were too surprised. However, something about it upset you. Hell, even Hotch and Rossi took the time to stop by and check on you.
Derek and Penelope were probably your most frequent visitors. You were honestly grateful for their visits, and for the help it brought. With your injuries, simple day-to-day tasks were more difficult for you, and Penelope and Derek were more than happy to help you out. Derek took your grocery list and all your other errands while Penelope helped around your apartment. You were even more grateful when they forced you to attend a dinner party at Rossi’s. Penelope was at your apartment, helping you pick out a dress for the event.
“I don’t know, Pen.”
“(Y/N), I’m telling you, purple is your color.”
“Yeah, but I don’t want my dress to match my bruises.”
Penelope just rolled her eyes and tossed the dress on your bed. “Do you really think I’d pick out a dress that didn’t make you look good? Let’s go, you haven’t had a proper shower in a week.”
Penelope helped you get ready for the dinner party before getting ready herself. She helped adjust the strap of your brace when your doorbell buzzed.
“That’ll be Derek,” you said. Penelope answered the door to Derek standing outside, leaning against your doorframe.
“Well, look at these pretty ladies. You ready to go?”
“Yeah, I need to get out of this house,” you said. “I haven’t seen anything but these walls in weeks.”
When you pulled into Rossi’s driveway, you were more than excited to see the team. The team, in turn, was excited to see you. You were smiling and laughing, more and more of your normal self.
When Spencer saw you walk through Rossi’s front door on your crutches, a lump formed in his throat. Ever since seeing you in the hospital, he’d been wracked with guilt. It was the main reason why he hadn’t visited you like everyone else. He tried to avoid you the whole night. Thankfully, you were so happy to be with the others that you didn’t seem to notice. But Blake did.
“Okay, what’s going on with you?” she asked Spencer, handing him a drink.
“What are you talking about?”
“You’re avoiding everyone tonight. Why?” When Spencer stayed silent, Blake followed his line of sight. He was watching you talking with JJ. “Ah. Why don’t you go talk to her?”
“I can’t, Alex. Believe me, I’ve tried. For months. Any time I try and have just a normal goddamn conversation with her, what comes out is sarcastic and cruel. I-I don’t know why it happens.” He ran his hands over his face and groaned.
“You’re in love with her.” Blake wasn’t saying it as a question. Seeing the panic in his eyes, she said, “Don’t worry, it’ll stay with me.”
~
The heavy sheets of rain outside pounded against the apartment windows. It was the kind of cold rain that seeped into your bones, despite a warm home. It was late, but Spencer was still awake, reading. He couldn’t sleep, which wasn’t unusual for him. He heard a knock on his door. Spencer set his book down on his coffee table before walking to his door. He glanced out the peephole and took a step back in shock. Spencer opened the door to see you standing there, soaked and visibly shivering, in only your pajamas. Your eyes were bloodshot and you were sniffling.
“(L/N)? What are you-”
“I’m sorry. I know you probably don’t want me here and I don’t even know how I ended up here, I just started walking and-”
“Wait, wait, you walked here? In the torrential downpour?” When you nodded, Spencer opened his door wider. “Here, come in. You must be freezing. What happened?”
You stepped through his door and began to ramble, “I don’t know. I woke up from a nightmare and I knew I-I couldn’t stay in my apartment alone so I just started walking and somehow I ended up here and I’m sorry.” Your teeth were chattering as you continued to shiver.
Spencer grabbed a blanket off the back of his couch and draped it around you. “No, no, it’s, um-” Spencer cleared his throat. “Do you want to talk about it? I’ve found that sometimes just saying it out loud helps.”
Once you nodded, Spencer held his hand out and led you over to his couch. You were silent for a few moments, staring out the window at the rain streaming down.
“I was back… there,” you said when you finally started talking. “In the dark. I-I couldn’t see anything but I knew he was there. Then I felt his hands on my throat and-” You cut yourself off, shaking your head. Your whole body was shivering, but Spencer didn’t think it was from the cold anymore.
Spencer moved to put his arm around you but stopped, dropping his arm back to his side. “I know how you feel,” he said. “After Hankle, I couldn’t handle looking at the crime scene photos because I knew what the victims were thinking right… you know… right before.”
“Do they ever stop? The nightmares?”
“I don’t know. Mine haven’t.” When he saw the defeat on your face, he added, “But it does get easier.”
You nodded, still staring out at the pouring rain. You cleared your throat. “Well, uh, I’ll, um, I’ll call a taxi and get out of your hair.”
“You don’t- uh, you can stay, um, if-if you want,” Spencer said.
“Reid, I don’t want to impose-”
“You wouldn’t be!” Spencer assured you. “I could use the company, actually. I’ve been trying to find someone to watch Stardust with me. Penelope says I need to watch more pop culture and I know you’re a fan of Neil Gaiman.” He gave you a soft smile. “Please, (Y/N), stay. I promise, you’re not imposing.”
When he saw your face crack into a small smile, he felt a swarm of butterflies rise in his stomach. “Okay,” you said.
About halfway through the movie, Spencer felt you slump against his shoulder. Before he knew it, you were fast asleep. He was frozen there, not wanting to disturb you. He knew how rough the past few months had been, and it was obvious to everyone you weren’t sleeping. Maybe it was the guilt, maybe it was more, but Spencer felt like it was now his responsibility to take care of you, if you would let him.
~
The whole team noticed the shift between you and Reid. Where you would previously stay as far from each other as possible, you were now actively seeking each other out. You chose to sit next to each other in the briefing room and on the jet, something you had never done before. On the trips back from cases, you would rest your head on Reid’s shoulder and sleep while he read a book. But, no one said anything about any of it. No one wanted to burst whatever weird bubble was surrounding the BAU team.
That was, until Blake, Derek, and JJ spotted you knocking on Spencer’s motel door one night during a case. The two were sitting up in the lounge going over the case files yet again when they spotted you, in your pajamas, sneaking out of your own room.
After watching you slip into Spencer’s room, JJ said, “You don’t think they’re…”
“Reid and (L/N)? No, there’s no way. They can’t stand each other.”
“Well, they do say there’s a thin line between love and hate,” Alex noted, turning the page in her book.
“I don’t know about you two, but I need to know what’s going on,” Derek said, getting up from the couch.
“I’m coming with you!”
“Guys, I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” Alex warned. “Just talk to them about it in the morning.”
“Do you know something, Alex?” JJ asked.
“Even if I did know something, it wouldn’t be my place to tell you.”
~
The next morning, you felt eyes on you as you drank your coffee. You looked up from the case file to see Derek staring at you.
“What?”
“Were you going to tell me about you and Reid or…”
“What are you talking about? Me and Reid?”
“(Y/N), come on. You two are practically attached at the hip when just two weeks ago you couldn’t fucking stand each other.”
You shrugged. “We worked out our differences, I don’t know what to tell you.”
“Alright, what about you sneaking off to his room last night?”
Your face paled. “It’s not what it looked like.”
“Care to explain then?”
You sighed, looking around to make sure it was just you and Morgan. “You know I haven’t been sleeping since, well, everything.” Derek nodded. “Well, a few nights ago I ended up at Reid’s apartment in a panic. It was pouring out so he let me just stay and I slept better than I had in years. And, you know, he’s not too bad to hang out with either,” your face flushed with your last statement.
“You’re not too bad to hang out with either.”
You jumped, turning around to see Spencer in the doorway with cups of (good) coffee in his arms.
“Spencer, when did-”
He handed you a frappuccino. “Just now. I take it you weren’t as sneaky as you thought?”
“Shut up,” you whined, nudging him with your arm as you stuck a straw in your drink. Spencer just laughed and took a seat next to you.
“So, you’re just, like, friends now?”
You and Spencer looked at each other, seemingly having a conversation without speaking.
“I mean, I’d say we’re a bit more than just friends,” you admitted, smiling at Spencer. He kissed the top of your head.
“Damn, I owe JJ 10 bucks,” Derek muttered before saying, “But seriously, I’m happy for you two. It’s about time you realized you were perfect for each other.”
pairings: jeremiah fisher x reader, jeremiah fisher x belly conklin
warnings: sad, angst,
summary: based on Sara Kays' amazing song Backseat Rider
a/n: first jeremiah fisher fic, this might be terrible i have no idea. Luv you all!! also go listen to sara kays!!
MASTERLIST
part 1 part 2
You lived down the block
We met for the first time at the bus stop
We sat side by side
Third seat from the back, we talked the whole ride
You met a few summers back, at the bus stop. The two of you became best friends with a snap of his fingers. His family loved you!
Six years later you bought your first car
And you told me to wait outside
Then you pulled up and somebody else
Was sitting in the passenger's side
And then you met the Conklins, Belly was your age, you two actually clicked. You couldn’t wait to go driving, you couldn’t wait to “sail” down the beachfront in his red jeep. But when that red jeep, the one that you 2 had talked about getting together, pulled up to your driveway. You smiled and waved, and then your smile dropped a little when you saw her in the passenger side. “Hey y/n/n '' Jere said as you got in the car.
“Hi Jere,” you smiled softly.
Then Belly turned up the radio and started chatting with Jeremiah, even though you were best friends, no one paid attention to you. You rested your chin on your arm and started staring off into space.
So I sat in the backseat, it didn't bother me
But after five weeks of sitting in silence behind her
While you talked of movies I've never seen
I realized that's how we used to be
But now my best friend is the driver
And I'm the backseat rider
The first few weeks were fine, you were okay with some peace and quiet. It was hard though when you were so in love with him. You loved him, but after 5 weeks of watching Belly and Jere gush over each other, you could tell he loved Belly. And it hurts.
Maybe it's my fault
Spent summer break away and forgot to call
Or maybe you forgot
Around this time last summer, we sat in the parking lot
I guess when you spend a summer away, away from your 2 best friends, they grow closer and you weren't able to stop it. Cause there has always been a spark between belly conklin and the fisher boy, you just didn't realize it was your fisher boy, your best friend. And now you're just the third real. Just the backseat rider.
And you told me when you got your first car
That you and I would go for a drive
But now we're here and somebody else
Is sitting in the passenger's side
[flashback]
"Y/n! Y/n!" jere called out.
"What?"you asked in an exasperated sigh.
"I'll teach you how to drive one day,'' he promised.
You smiled, and responded in a playful tone, "if you insist, kind sir," you thought about what it would be like one hand on the wheel, the other on your thigh, as the two of you drove around the town.
"Whacha smiling about babe?" Jeremiah asked, not knowing how a single word babe could affect you so much.
"Nothing," you shook your head laughing to yourself. You smiled at each other. "Eyes on the road Jere!"
[end of flashback]
So I sat in the backseat, it didn't bother me
But after five weeks of sittin' in silence behind her
While you talked of movies I've never seen
I realized that's how we used to be
But now my best friend is the driver
And I'm the backseat rider
For five weeks straight you felt ignored, for five weeks straight you were the third wheel. For five weeks straight you repeatedly let your heart get broken. Every morning, when they showed up, it was "Hey y/n, how'd you sleep" and "sorry we ate all the muffins" frowning, and "morning sunshine, where can we drop you off?".
You just missed the last summer you were here, watching movies in bed with belly, late night swims with jeremiah & conrad, beach days with jere bear(the nickname you teased him about constantly). *sigh* The days when the four of you didn't give a care in the world.
I gave you back the clothes that you used to borrow
You dropped me off at home, said you'll see me tomorrow
You felt it best for yourself to pull away from him, slowly, but surely. You inhaled the smell of his cologne on the shirt he left at your house some time ago, then folded it in a box, then you grabbed a necklace that belly let you borrow for a party nest in the box, then his sunglasses from the last beach day, and finally finished packing up the small(ish) box & marked it "Jeremiah's & Belly's Things"
And I sit in the backseat, it didn't bother me
But after five weeks of sitting in silence behind her
While you talked of movies I've never seen
I realized that's how we used to be
But now my best friend is the driver
And I'm the backseat rider
You watched him pull up to your driveway, belly laughing in the passenger seat, your seat, and the smile on his face grew, love filling his eyes. Head popping up when he saw you walk out the door, "hey you decided to join us this time!" he smiled cheerfully.
"How are you feeling girl?" Belly asked concerningly; fine fine yes you told them you weren't feeling well last time, but that isnt a complete lie…right? You were tired of fighting for a lost cause.
I gave you back the clothes that you used to borrow
You dropped me off at home, said you'll see me tomorrow
Next you saw them, you gave him the box. Placed it into his hands, his smile replaced by a look of concern on his face. "What's in the box y/n/n?" Jere chuckled nervously.
"Goodbye Jere" you said solemnly ,and walked away. You left a not in the box explaining everything. You didn't plan on coming back to Cousins next summer with your family, at least not around them.
Jeremiah stared at you as you walked away confused & sad.
It’s no wonder Sirius left this family for another.
He tried to do the same when met with the welcoming arms of the Potter family. Only Regulus wasn’t so luck as to cut all remaining ties. Instead proving to himself and everyone around him that he couldn’t commit to something or someone long enough for it to truly matter. As a result, winding himself up exactly where he started.
No pressure tags to @regscupid @messymoony and anyone else who wants to do it :)
summary: after an exhausting day, max arrives home late and slips into bed beside you. his touches stir something deeper within you, leading to a slow encounter under the covers.
WARNINGS: 18+ content, half-asleep sex. that's basically it.
w.c. 1.5k
a/n: last post for the week! this post feels rly weak, so sorry about that. having a hard time writing currently! next week will be the last week, so see you all then! let me know your thoughts via reblog, comment or ask, i love hearing from you guys.
the bedroom was quiet, the only light coming from the moon peeking through the half-closed curtains. the house was still, save for the occasional sound of the wind against the windows. you were halfway between sleep and wakefulness, floating in a pleasant haze when you felt the bed dip slightly beside you.
max had finally come home.
even in your drowsy state, you could sense the weight of his day clinging to him. the exhaustion radiated from every breath he took, each slow and deep as he slipped under the covers. he tried to be careful, not wanting to disturb you, but the moment his arm slipped around your waist, instinctively pulling you into him, your body stirred at his touch. his familiar warmth wrapped around you, and you sighed contentedly, nestling into him without opening your eyes.
max’s lips brushed your shoulder in a light, almost unconscious kiss. he was barely awake himself, just a tangle of weariness and longing, craving the comfort of being close to you. his fingers traced along your waist, drawing lazy, soothing circles on your skin. the movement was calming, lulling you both into a state of relaxed intimacy.
you turned in his arms, feeling the quiet pull of drowsiness still heavy in your limbs, and opened your eyes just enough to see the soft silhouette of his face. his eyes were half-lidded, the lines of fatigue etched clearly in his features. despite that, he gave you a small, sleepy smile, his hand coming up to cup your cheek.
“hi, schajte,” he whispered, voice gravelly from the day and from sleep. it was a murmur, barely audible above the rustle of sheets, but it felt like everything in the quiet of the night.
“hi maxie,” you whispered back, your voice a soft hum as your eyes fluttered closed again, lost in the warmth of his touch.
he leaned in, his lips brushing over yours in a gentle, lingering kiss. there was no urgency, no rush—just the simple need to feel you, to be close to you after a day that had kept him away. the kiss deepened gradually, max’s tongue brushing lightly against your bottom lip, tasting the softness there. you sighed into it, your body responding instinctively, shifting closer until your chests were pressed together, your legs tangling beneath the covers.
max’s hand slipped down from your cheek, his fingers trailing along the curve of your neck, tracing the line of your collarbone before resting at your waist. he held you like this for a moment, as if grounding himself in the feel of you, the familiarity of your body against his. it was as if touching you was the only thing he needed to unwind completely, to let go of the stress that still clung to him.
“missed you,” he mumbled softly, lips brushing your ear as he spoke. his words were heavy with sleep, almost slurred, but you felt their weight, their sincerity.
“i missed you too,” you whispered back, feeling the words drift into the darkness between you both. your hand slid over his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm.
max’s lips continued their gentle exploration, trailing featherlight kisses down the side of your neck, his breath warm against your skin. the touches were slow, almost absentminded, but they stirred something deeper within you, a quiet desire that simmered just beneath the surface. you shifted slightly, the movement instinctual, a silent invitation for more.
you felt the low hum of his voice against your skin as he sighed softly, his breath hot against your collarbone. max’s hand slid down your side, his fingers brushing over the curve of your hip before slipping beneath the hem of your shirt. his touch was warm and soothing, a gentle reminder of how much he craved this closeness after a long day.
he leaned down, his lips tracing a path along your shoulder, then lower, pressing lazy kisses to the bare skin he found beneath the fabric of your shirt. your breathing grew heavier, the quiet tension between you both thickening in the dimly lit room. you could feel his exhaustion mixing with his desire, creating a heady combination of soft need and overwhelming intimacy.
“max,” you whimpered, a hint of breathlessness in your voice, not needing to say anything more. he knew what you meant, what you were asking for without asking.
he shifted slightly, his hand sliding down to your thigh, lifting it to rest over his hip. the simple movement brought you closer, your bodies aligning naturally under the covers. max’s breathing was uneven, a soft exhale escaping him as he nestled his hips against yours, his arousal evident even in his drowsy state. it was a quiet, subtle acknowledgment of what you both wanted—needed—after the long day.
max’s lips found yours again, and this time the kiss was deeper, a little hungrier, but still slow and tender. you melted into him, sighing softly as your fingers threaded through his hair, holding him close. his hand slipped between your bodies, his fingers brushing over your core, and you let out a quiet gasp at the touch, the warmth of his skin against yours sending a shiver of anticipation through you.
he took his time, his fingers moving with a patient, deliberate rhythm, coaxing soft whimpers from your lips. you could feel the weight of sleep still heavy on your limbs, but it only made everything feel more intimate, more raw. there was no rush, no urgency—just the quiet connection between you both, built from the exhaustion of the day and the need to be close to each other.
max shifted slightly, his fingers guiding himself to you, and you held your breath, feeling the anticipation build. he pressed his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours as he slowly pushed into you, a quiet, shared exhale escaping both of you as he filled you completely. the sensation was almost overwhelming in its simplicity, the slow, steady rhythm he set making every nerve in your body come alive.
you sighed softly, your fingers tightening slightly in his hair as you arched into him, the movement instinctive, seeking more of that delicious closeness. max’s hand settled on your hip, holding you firmly as he moved with a gentle, deliberate rhythm, each thrust slow and deep. there was no rush, no urgency—just the steady, comforting connection between you both, the quiet intimacy that came from knowing each other so deeply.
the room was filled with the soft sounds of your breathing, the quiet rustle of sheets as max continued his slow, deliberate movements. you could feel the tension building within you, a slow, simmering heat that spread through your body with each gentle thrust. max’s forehead rested against yours, his eyes closed, his breaths coming out in soft, uneven huffs as he held you close, his body completely in tune with yours.
you were both half-lost in the haze of sleep, but the sensations were all-consuming, every touch and movement heightened by the drowsy intimacy between you. max’s hand slid up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip in a tender caress, and you turned your head slightly to kiss his palm, your breathing growing heavier as the pressure continued to build.
“feels so good,” he mumbled, his voice rough and barely audible, as if he was speaking more to himself than to you. the words sent a shiver down your spine, and you arched into him, needing more of that slow, steady connection.
the heat continued to build, slow and steady, until you could feel the tension starting to unravel, the pleasure washing over you in gentle waves. max groaned softly, his grip on your hip tightening as he felt you tighten around him, his movements becoming a little less controlled as he chased his own release.
with one final, deep thrust, you both fell apart together, the quiet intimacy of the moment making everything feel more intense, more real. max held you close, his breathing heavy and uneven as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his body trembling slightly with the aftershocks.
for a long moment, neither of you moved, your bodies still tangled beneath the covers, your breathing slowly evening out as the exhaustion of the day finally caught up with you both. max pressed a lazy kiss to your shoulder, his arm wrapping around your waist to pull you closer, his touch grounding you in the lingering warmth of the moment.
“love you,” he murmured, his voice barely more than a breath. “so much.” you smiled sleepily, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “love you too,” fell from your lips as you felt max squeeze you tighter.
and with that, the quiet rhythm of your breathing lulled you both back into a peaceful, shared sleep, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s embrace.
