#( please enjoy the wink in that gif lol )
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23victoria · 15 days ago
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"did you pump my gas?"
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ꨄ༊*·˚ pairings: 𝐟𝟏 𝐠𝐫���𝐝 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
word count: 𝟐.𝟕𝐤
ꨄ༊*·˚ synopsis: 𝐟𝟏 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐫
authors note: 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐦𝐞 𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚, 𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐢 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐬𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠, 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲!! 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, & 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝!! 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞
𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭?! CLICK HERE!
ꨄ༊*·˚ F1 MASTERLIST
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Lewis
Lewis pulls into a gas station as you’re both on a road trip up the coast, eyeing the 7/11 sign with interest. "You want anything, babe?" he asks, turning to you with a warm smile.
"Mmm, a sandwich, some chips, and maybe a drink?" you reply, flashing him a grin.
"Anything for my girl," he says with a wink, leaning over to plant a soft kiss on your lips before hopping out and heading inside.
As Lewis disappears into the store, you notice the gas gauge is teetering near empty. You know Lewis loves taking care of you, but you figure you can handle this one little thing, so you step out and start pumping the gas. Just as you’re putting the nozzle back, Lewis emerges, bag and drink in hand, and freezes mid-step, his eyes widening.
"Wait, are you—no, no, no. Are you pumping my gas, Y/N?" He stares at you with a mixture of disbelief and playful shock.
You give him a shrug and a smile. "Just wanted to help out. No big deal."
"No big deal? Babe, are you kidding me? Not only did you pump the gas, but…did you pay too?" he asks, his voice a blend of amusement and horror.
You nod sheepishly. "I just thought I’d make it easy for you."
Lewis’s face crumples in mock disapproval, and he walks over, setting the food bag on the roof of the car as he puts his hands on your shoulders. "Listen here, princess. You don’t ever lift a finger, especially for something like this. Got it?"
You can’t help but laugh, enjoying the playful scolding. "Okay, okay, I got it. No more helping out, then?"
He shakes his head, leaning in to press his forehead against yours. "The only thing I want you lifting is your hand when you’re telling me you need something," he says, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. "And maybe lifting your lips to kiss me."
"That, I can manage," you reply, giggling as you pepper kisses all over his face until he’s laughing too. He finally pulls you into a proper kiss, deep and sweet.
"There we go," he says, pulling back slightly. "Now, hop in, and let me spoil my girl properly. Sandwiches and kisses on demand, sound good?"
"Sounds perfect," you reply, heart fluttering as he opens the car door for you with a flourish.
Charles
When Charles pulls into the gas station, he notices the little deli inside and immediately glances your way. "Ma chérie, are you hungry?"
You give him a big smile, your eyes lighting up. "Yes, please! A sandwich and maybe a drink?"
He leans over to give you a gentle kiss. "Consider it done, ma chérie," he says before heading inside with a soft smile on his face.
As he disappears, you notice the gas gauge is low, and you decide to surprise him by filling up the tank. You’re just finishing up when Charles exits the store, a bag in one hand and your drink in the other. He stops dead in his tracks, his expression shifting from relaxed to one of complete disbelief.
"Y/N! No, no, no—ma chérie, did you just… did you just pump the gas?" He hurries over, his face a mix of shock and disapproval.
You look at him, shrugging. "I just thought I’d help out."
He sets the bag down and takes both of your hands in his, his eyes intense as he stares into yours. "No, ma amour. That is not how this works," he says firmly. "You do not touch the gas pump. Not when I am here. I am the one who takes care of these things, d'accord?"
"But, Charles, I wanted to help…"
He lets out a deep sigh, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "Non, ma chérie. I adore that you want to help, but you are my princess, and I want you to relax. Let me handle everything."
You giggle softly, giving in to his serious expression. "Okay, okay, I won’t do it again."
He cups your cheek, his thumb tracing a soft line along your skin. "That’s better," he says, a warm smile replacing his stern look. "Now, a kiss to seal the promise?"
You smile up at him and press a soft kiss to his lips. "Promise."
Charles pulls you close, holding you as if you’re the most precious thing in his world. "Good. Now, back in the car with you, ma chérie. I’ll handle the rest."
Lando
Lando pulls into the gas station, immediately spotting the Wendy’s inside. "Want anything to eat, babe?" he asks with a grin.
"A chicken sandwich meal and a drink, please," you say, giving him a quick kiss.
"Okay baby" he says with a wink, stepping out of the car.
While he’s inside, you notice the gas tank is almost empty. Thinking it would be a nice surprise, you decide to fill it up. You’re just finishing when Lando comes out with the food, and he nearly drops the bag when he sees you by the pump.
"Whoa, hold up—are you pumping the gas?!" He rushes over, looking at you like you just told him you bought the whole station.
"Yeah, I just wanted to help out," you say, smiling.
He gives you a look of pure disbelief mixed with a cheeky grin. "Baby, no, no, no! You don’t do that kind of stuff. You’re my girl—you’re supposed to just chill and look pretty while I take care of things. Got it?"
You giggle at his teasing tone. "Got it, Lando."
He pulls you in, giving you a quick peck on the lips. "Good. Now, next time you even think about pumping gas, remember that it’s my job to take care of you. Deal?"
"Deal," you reply, giggling as you give him a few more kisses on his cheek.
"That’s better," he says, smiling as he opens the car door for you. "Now, get in and let me spoil you."
Carlos
Carlos pulls into the gas station and glances at the deli. "You want anything to eat, mami?"
"Yes, please! A sandwich, some chips, and a drink please," you reply, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.
He smiles warmly. "For you, anything," he says, before heading inside.
While he’s gone, you notice the gas is low and decide to surprise him by filling it up. Just as you’re finishing, Carlos exits the store and his eyes go wide.
"Mami! No, no, no!" He rushes over, looking at you with a mix of shock and adoration. "What are you doing, princesa?"
"I just wanted to help out," you say, smiling.
Carlos shakes his head, taking your hands in his and giving you a soft but stern look. "No, no, mami, you don’t need to worry about things like that. I’m the one who takes care of you, understand?"
"Okay, okay," you reply, giggling at his serious expression.
He pulls you close, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "You’re too precious for that. Just relax and let me handle everything, mami."
You smile, leaning into his embrace. "I love you, Carlos."
"I love you too, mami," he whispers, holding you close. "Now, let’s get back on the road, and I’ll keep spoiling you."
Max
Max had barely pulled into the gas station when he’d noticed the little Dunkin inside. Turning to you with a playful smile, he’d asked, “Want anything, baby?”
“A bagel and iced coffee would be amazing,” you’d replied, giving him a quick, affectionate kiss.
“Anything for you,” he’d said, winking before hopping out of the car and heading into the store.
As soon as he was gone, you noticed the gas gauge needle hovering close to “E.” Figuring you could surprise him by taking care of it, you stepped out, filled the tank, and managed to get back into your seat just as Max walked out, food and drink in hand.
He reaches your side, a bag in one hand, and gives you the warmest smile as he passes you your food through the window. But then he tilts his head, his brow furrowing slightly. “Wait, why is the car still on? I thought I turned it off…”
He walks around to the driver’s side, opens the door, and freezes as he notices the gas gauge. His eyes go wide, and he quickly realizes what you did. Shutting the door, he comes back to your side, a look of disbelief mixed with soft exasperation on his face.
“Baby, did you…did you just fill up the car?” he asks, his tone gentle but incredulous.
You give him an innocent smile. “I just thought I’d help out a little.”
He sighs, looking at you like you’ve just broken an unspoken rule. “No, no, no, absolutely not,” he says, shaking his head. “Baby, you’re not supposed to do stuff like that. You’re my girl. I take care of those things, alright?”
You laugh softly, appreciating how serious he seems about this. “Alright, alright, I get it.”
He leans in, planting a tender kiss on your forehead and then a few quick ones on your cheeks for good measure. “Just sit back, relax, and let me take care of you. Promise?”
“Promise,” you say, laughing, and he finally breaks into a soft smile, brushing his thumb along your cheek.
“Good,” he murmurs, giving you one last kiss before heading back around to the driver’s seat. “Now, eat up, baby, and let’s get back on the road.”
Jenson
As soon as you and Jenson pulled into the gas station, he’d noticed the deli inside and turned to you with a smile that was pure charm. “Fancy a snack, sweetheart?”
“Yes, please! A sandwich, some chips, and maybe a drink?” you asked, leaning in to give him a quick kiss.
“Say no more,” he’d replied, winking as he stepped out of the car and made his way toward the store.
While he was gone, you noticed the tank was low and figured you could surprise him by filling it up. Just as you finish and settle back into your seat, Jenson comes back out, a bag of food and your drink in hand.
He comes over to your side, passing the bag through the window. “Here you go, sweetheart,” he says, his eyes lighting up as he glances at you. But then he notices the engine is on and tilts his head, frowning a little.
“Wait a second…didn’t I turn the car off?” he mutters, walking around to the driver’s side. When he opens the door and sees the gas gauge is full, he freezes, putting two and two together. He shuts the door and comes back around to your side, his eyes wide.
“Sweetheart, tell me you did not just fill up the car?” he asks, a hand over his chest in a mock display of distress.
You grin, shrugging. “I just thought I’d give you a hand.”
“Oh, no, no, no,” he says, shaking his head and looking half-appalled, half-amused. “Sweetheart, you’re my girl. You don’t lift a finger for things like that, alright? Not when I’m here.”
You can’t help but laugh at his dramatic response. “Alright, message received. No more helping out?”
He grins, leaning in to place a soft, lingering kiss on your cheek. “Exactly. I want you to just sit back and let me spoil you. Got it?”
“Got it,” you say, giggling as he plants a couple more kisses on your forehead and nose for good measure.
“Perfect,” he says with a satisfied nod, finally heading back to the driver’s seat. “Now, relax, sweetheart, and enjoy the food.”
Oscar
Oscar is usually more low-key, but as he pulls into the gas station and spots the McDonald’s inside, he turns to you with a soft smile. “Hungry, babe?”
You nod enthusiastically. “Yes, please! A 20 piece nuggets and a drink, please and thank you.”
“Of course babe,” he replies, giving you a quick kiss before hopping out of the car.
While he’s inside, you notice the gas is nearly empty and decide to take care of it yourself. You fill up quickly, wanting to surprise him before he gets back. Just as you’re settling into your seat again, Oscar walks out, your food and drink in hand.
He comes to your side and passes you the bag through the window. “Here you go, babe,” he says with that shy smile of his. But then he frowns slightly, noticing the car is still on.
“Huh, I thought I turned the car off…” he mutters to himself, walking over to the driver’s side. When he opens the door and notices the gas tank is now full, he turns back to you, looking surprised.
“Babe, did you…did you just fill up the car?” he asks, his tone soft but a bit stern.
You shrug, smiling. “Just thought I’d help out.”
Oscar sighs, his brows knitting as he walks back over to you. “No, no, babe. You don’t need to do that, okay? I’m here to take care of things like that.”
You laugh, reaching out to grab his hand. “Alright, alright. No more gas-pumping.”
He relaxes, a gentle smile replacing his serious look as he cups your face. “Good. Just sit back, relax, and let me handle it. Deal?”
“Deal,” you reply, smiling up at him as he leans in and plants a soft kiss on your forehead, then another on your nose, making you giggle.
“Perfect,” he murmurs, heading back to the driver’s side. “Now let’s get going, and you can just enjoy the ride.”
Sebastian
When you and Sebastian pull into the gas station, he immediately notices the small deli inside. He glances over at you with that soft, warm smile you love so much, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
"Want anything, honey?" he asks, his voice gentle as he rests a hand on yours.
“Some chips and maybe a drink?” you reply, giving him a playful smile.
“Of course,” he says, pressing a kiss to your hand before getting out and heading into the store.
Once he’s out of sight, you notice the fuel gauge is nearly on “E.” Knowing how much he insists on doing everything for you, you’re torn for a moment, but you decide it’d be a sweet surprise to fill it up for him. You slip out of the car, pump the gas, and manage to finish just in time to jump back into your seat.
Sebastian emerges from the store, carrying a bag with your food and drink, and walks up to your window with that same warm smile. He hands you the bag through the open window, giving you a look that makes you feel like the only person in the world.
“Here you go, honey,” he murmurs. But then he frowns, his brow furrowing slightly. “Didn’t I…didn’t I turn the car off?”
He rounds the car, opening the driver’s side door. When he spots the full fuel gauge, his face freezes, and he turns back to you with wide eyes.
“Did you…did you fill up the tank?” he asks, a mixture of shock and concern in his voice.
You nod, trying to look casual. “Just thought I’d help out a bit.”
Seb shakes his head, running a hand through his hair as he lets out a deep sigh. “Honey, no,” he says softly but firmly, coming over to your side. “You’re my girl; I don’t want you to worry about things like that. You don’t have to lift a finger for this.”
You can see he’s genuinely bothered, and it makes your heart melt a little. “Okay, okay,” you say, laughing softly as you reach up to stroke his cheek. “I get it, I promise. No more surprises like this.”
Sebastian’s expression softens immediately as he cups your face, looking at you with such adoration. “Good. Because you’re my princess, and I’m here to take care of you,” he murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “Let me spoil you a little, alright?”
“Alright,” you whisper, smiling up at him.
He rewards you with a gentle, lingering kiss on your cheek and brushes a few stray hairs behind your ear. “Thank you, liebling. Now, sit back, relax, and enjoy your food.”
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on-my-vigilante-sht · 11 months ago
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Competing With Gods
Luke Castellan x Aphrodite!Reader, Apollo x uninterested!Reader
Request: Hi could you write luke castellan x reader, where Luke gets jealous of a guy who tries with y/n? How would he react if y/n is at the game? Thank you
Summary: When Apollo is sent to camp as a punishment, he sets his sights on Luke's girlfriend.
Warning: Fighting, jealousy, making out, the slightest allusions to/implied smut, Apollo being a dick
Word Count: 3k
Masterlist
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A/N So instead of another camper or whatever, I’m making the other guy Apollo.
Apollo crashed into the ground of Camp Half-Blood. Right in the middle of all the cabins. Great. He briefly cursed Zeus for this. He was being punished for flirting with a nymph the big guy was interested in. And when Apollo had told his father to maybe focus on his wife, Zeus banished him to Camp Half-Blood for a few weeks as a “warning.”
The Half-Bloods began to peek out of their cabins but one girl was already rushing over. Her hair fell over her shoulder so nicely as she kneeled over him. Okay, maybe camp wouldn’t be so bad. She gave him a concerned look. “Are you alright?”
“Now that you’re here,” he immediately started flirting. He enjoyed the way she immediately became flustered and jumped to his feet. She looked up at him in bewilderment. She saw him fall. She wasn’t a daughter of Apollo but he should have been suffering from at least a few broken bones. “I’m Apollo,” he clarified with a proud smirk. By now all the other campers within the vicinity were near enough to hear and kneeled. The girl did too, kneeling with a lowered head. He reached out a hand to her. She took it hesitantly, standing up. “Who are you, gorgeous?”
She became further embarrassed. How do I bring up Luke? She briefly wondered. “Y/N. Daughter of Aphrodite.”
“I should have known,” the god flirted. “What with those mesmerizing eyes.”
“Lord Apollo,” a voice interrupted him. He turned, finding Chiron trotting over. “My apologies, I was just notified of your arrival.”
“No worries,” the god smiled. The nice thing about not being around gods is that you get called things like Lord.
“Please,” Chiron began, gesturing over to a big house, “let me show you around. Your father has a few requests for you whilst here.”
“Of course he does,” he rolled his eyes. He turned back to the girl. “I’ll see you around, gorgeous,” he winked.
As he left all the campers were left in shock. Especially Y/N. And even more so, her boyfriend. Luke went up to her, finding her still in astonishment. “Sooo… that was weird,” he began, trying to not show his jealousy.
“Yeah,” she breathed. “Was Apollo just flirting with me?”
“Yes!” Silena gushed as she ran up to her best friend/half-sister. “Oh my gods, a god is interested in you!” She then seemed to notice Luke and remember their relationship. “Oh- uh. Sorry, Luke.”
He just gave her a tight lipped smile.
“Oh my gods, what am I gonna do?” Y/N asked, clearly stressed out.
Luke shrugged, again trying not to show his jealousy. “Not much you can do. It’s not like you can tell him to leave you alone.”
“If you really don’t want him then you can tell him you have a boyfriend. And a sister,” Silena suggested with a raised eyebrow.
Her sister laughed. “I was trying to think of a way to mention Luke. And Silena, you’re 16.”
“He looks 18!” she insisted.
“Even if he was actually 18 I’d say he’s too old for you. Come on, the bathroom still needs to be cleaned after Drew decided she wanted to dye her hair black.”
“Yeah well, she’s crying now because she wants to be blonde again,” Silena explained as the sisters walked back to their cabin.
Feeling mildly ignored, Luke yelled after them. “I’ll see you at dinner!”
Remembering her boyfriend, Y/N ran back to him, pressing a peck on her lips. “Sorry. I’ll see you later.” He watched her go, trying to not think about it too much. She never forgot to kiss him goodbye but he tried to chalk it up to the fact that she was shocked by Apollo’s appearance.
~
That evening at dinner everyone had noticed the “new camper” sitting at the Apollo table looking very unhappy. Chiron stood up and called everyone’s attention. “As you all know, we have a very honored guest staying with us for a while. Lord Zeus had requested that we treat him as we would any other camper.” As he finished he gave us all a long, hard look as if to say, “Don’t get yourself killed when his immortality is restored.”
Once dinner finished, everyone was at the bonfire. Luke sat on the ground, his back resting up against a log. His girlfriend was leaning up against his shoulder, her legs over his lap. His free arm would occasionally swipe the mosquitos away from her with his other arm supporting her weight. They were talking to a few other campers when Luke let his gaze fall onto Apollo. Some campers, mostly girls from Aphrodite, sat around the god, looking at him with cartoon hearts in their eyes. He knew for a fact Y/N had told them to stay away as a. they were all minors and b. he was a god and she didn’t want to deal with their broken hearts.
When Apollo’s gaze fell on the girl in his lap, Luke tightened his grip protectively. He knew it was ridiculous. Y/N would never cheat on him and he knew she’d slap any guy who tried anything, immortal deity or not. But he couldn’t help but be worried. Hell, he had nearly punched an Ares camper last year and that kid wasn’t a god. And Apollo was known for his womanizing ways.
He tried to shake it off and go back to his conversation but his brain was still stuck on Apollo. “Hey,” he whispered so softly that only the girl in his lap could hear. She turned and he immediately kissed her. She kissed him back briefly but pulled away, not a huge fan of PDA especially in front of the entire camp. But Luke persisted, gently holding her cheek and kissing her deeply.
When she finally pulled away for breath she looked at him quizzically. “What was that for?”
He smiled and shrugged. “What? I can’t kiss my girlfriend?” She just smiled, pushing his head away jokingly before going back to her conversation. But he was looking at Apollo again, hoping the god saw that kiss. If he did, he was playing it off.
Later that night, when the fire was extinguished and he had kissed the Aphrodite counselor goodnight several times, Luke was trying to sleep. Keyword: trying. Normally the several snores or creeks of the Hermes cabin didn’t bother him, but he was so on edge thinking about Apollo’s flirting, that every noise jolted him awake. He couldn’t stop thinking about how Apollo had immediately begun to flirt with Y/N and how she had seemed to forget him for a moment.
Frustrated, Luke crept out of bed. As he opened the cabin door, he checked for harpies keeping watch but found none. So he went to the Aphrodite cabin, knocking on the window right above Y/N’s bed. It took a few tries but eventually, she poked her head up, gesturing to shut up and that she’d be out in a minute.
So Luke waited until she came around the side. “What?” she asked, still rubbing sleep from her eyes. But her hair was already falling back to the way its usual flawless look, courtesy of being Aphrodite’s daughter.
“I just wanted to see you,” Luke smiled sheepishly. And make sure Apollo isn’t sniffing around. He realized he didn’t have a reason to be out here that didn’t stem from insane jealousy. She looked mildly annoyed at that so he did the only thing he could think of. He kissed her. If he couldn’t get rid of Apollo, he could completely occupy her mind. So he did the only thing he could think of. He was pushing her up against the side of the cabin, one hand on her jaw, the other around her waist.
She had no clue where this came from but she gave in nonetheless. She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him deeply.
After a few minutes of making out, she finally managed to push him away enough to get a deep breath in. “What was that for?” she asked, both of them still gasping for air.
Luke smiled, grabbing her by the hips to pull her closer. “‘Cause I love you.” He pressed the lightest kiss to her nose before stepping away abruptly. “Night, see you in the morning.” And with that, he walked away the happiest demigod in all of camp.
The daughter of Aphrodite still just stood there, completely taken off guard. The only thing that snapped her out of her daze was the faint caw of a harpy, making her quickly scramble inside. Luke ended up getting his wish as that night, the only thing on her mind was that kiss.
~
The next day was Capture the Flag day. When Chiron announced it at dinner that night, everyone lost their minds. It was Athena, Hermes, Aphrodite, Hephaestus, and Poseidon vs. Ares, Apollo, Demeter, and Dionysus.
As the couple was walking over to their cabins to get their armor, Apollo caught up with them. “See you out there, Y/N,” he said as he passed with a wink.
“S-see yah?” she called back hesitantly.
Luke was frustrated but at least she didn’t seem flattered by his flirtations. Now she was just confused.
Once they grabbed their chest plates, then went back to the creek where they’d be starting the games. As Luke put his on, she was struggling to get hers tightened. “Hold on, I’ll help you in a sec,” he said, finishing strapping his onto his body.
“I got it,” a voice interrupted. Apollo seemingly appeared out of nowhere. He was standing in front of Y/N, tightening the strap.
“Hey!” Luke yelled without thinking.
Apollo held up one hand in surrender, the other still on her shoulder. “Chill man, I’m just helping.” Luke didn’t say anything else as Apollo walked away with a slight smirk.
“Hey,” Y/N said softly, stepping closer to him. “What was that about?”
Luke gritted his teeth. “Nothing. C’mon, I need to assign everyone and talk strategy.” He took her hand gently, reminding himself to not let his anger get the better of him. He headed over, gathering the team. “Alright, Cabins 6, 3, and 11 will be offense. Cabins 9, 10, and 12 will be defense. Except for Y/N, you’re with me. Beckendorf, you’ll also be offense.” He pointed out a few Athena and Hermes campers, directing them to defense as well.
After a few minutes, the conch blew and everyone was in their places. The couple quickly jumped over the creek, slipping through the Apollo cabin’s defenses. They had done this so many times, their routine was well practiced. They ran through the woods, searching for any opposing defense.
The other teams had learned that Y/N and Luke always worked as a pair so they started also pairing defensive players. That is when Hermes and Aphrodite were on the same side. If they weren’t, Capture the Flag could go on for hours since they knew all of each others’ tricks.
They continued on, occasionally making quick work of disarming opposing campers until they reached the flag. It was only guarded by one person. Apollo. Clarisse must have figured that everyone else would be too afraid to offend a god. But Luke was honestly looking for this opportunity.
So while Y/N fell back, hesitating, Luke was jumping at the god. Apollo blocked him with a sword but he was clearly not very good with it. Archery had been banned since before Luke got to camp. Even though the arrows were enchanted not to kill, someone had been blinded so Chiron banned them forever. He didn’t even make an exception for the god of archery.
While Luke fought Apollo, Y/N was grabbing the flag. “Luke!” she yelled, waving the flag. She then took off, heading for their territory. Because of Apollo’s inexperience with the sword, Luke was easily beating him. After a few slashes on the god’s arms, legs, and even face—nothing major, they were honestly just cuts a band aid could fix—Luke was disarming him. He didn’t have to be as brutal as he was or knock him over but he did, throwing the god’s sword far away before following after Y/N.
Luke was still a few feet behind her when she hopped over the creek into safety. He watched proudly as she ripped the helmet off her head and held the flag up triumphantly. The members of their team around her cheered triumphantly as the conch blew and their team was announced the winners.
Luke was still in enemy territory, watching her have her moment when Apollo showed up. “She’s really something,” the god announced, his smile focused on her.
“Yeah, my girlfriend really is incredible,” Luke said pointedly.
The god was still smiling. “I know she’s your girlfriend. I saw you making out with her last night.”
“What were you doing out at two a.m.?”
The god looked even more smug, his arms crossed over his chest. “I don’t have to answer to you. But if you must know, I had the same idea as you but you got there first.” Luke finally looked at him, rage once again filling his body. So he wasn’t paranoid. “How long have you been together?”
Luke was confused but answered nonetheless. “Uh three years,” he answered suspiciously.
“Aw, three years down the drain. I’m sorry in advance,” the god said in exaggerated regret.
Luke tried not to let his fury show. This is why he hated gods. They thought they could do whatever they wanted without regard for mortals. “Well, she loves me. At night she swears we were made for each other,” he said, recalling sweaty nights during the school year when every other Aphrodite kid was home. And how they’d make breathless promises of eternity.
Apollo gave him an almost pitiful look. “I’m sorry about your relationship but you can’t actually believe she’ll pick you when she could have a literal god?” he gestured to himself arrogantly.
Now it was Luke’s turn to gloat. He just shrugged, “I’m the one she calls for. She doesn’t call for the gods like most others would. She only ever says my name.”
Apollo was a little taken aback by the kid’s boldness. “Well, that’s the nice thing about being a god. I can make anyone mine.” And with that Apollo headed over to the capture the flag winner of the night. It took everything in him not to race up to her but he kept his composure. She’d have to reject him on her own, he couldn’t keep running defense.
He watched in surprised satisfaction as Apollo reached her. He congratulated her before pulling her into a hug. His arms were around her waist and creeping kind of low but Luke once again kept his resolve. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until she pulled away quickly, pointing over at him. What was she saying? Was she praising him for fighting the god? Or telling him that she had a boyfriend?
Apollo tried to hug her again but she ducked under his arm, running over to him. He immediately broke out into a smile. Her arms were opened to hug him but he just grabbed her face to kiss her instead. He turned her towards the tree he had been leaning on, pressing her up against it again. He only pulled away slightly to whisper a congratulations but then their lips were connected again. When he finally pulled away, he threw an arm around her shoulder, shooting a look to the god before heading off to their celebration.
That night as they were celebrating, Luke was glued to Y/N’s side. It wasn’t until some of the other Hermes boys needed help getting their illegal video game working again that Luke left her side. “I’ll be back,” he promised her, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead.
As soon as Luke was gone, Apollo was swooping in. “Congratulations again,” he said, handing her a drink.
“Thanks,” she smiled nervously, taking the drink. “How are the cuts?”
Apollo shrugged. “They sting more than I would’ve thought but they’re fine. Your boyfriend’s a hell of a fighter.”
“Yeah,” she chuckled, relieved that he was acknowledging she had a boyfriend.
“I mean, he’s good for a mortal. He’s certainly no god,” Apollo flirted.
“Well, none of us are. Present company excluded,” she laughed nervously, gesturing to him.
Apollo casually threw an arm around her shoulder. “There’s other things we’re better at,” he said, letting the implication hang in the air. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. “Have you ever been with a god, Y/N?”
She was immediately pulling out of his grasp. “I- uh… um no. I’m flattered but…” She had no clue what to say. She couldn’t just say no to Apollo. If this were any other man she’d throw her drink in his face but this was a god.
She didn’t have to say anything because Luke had seen the whole thing. As he came back he saw Apollo throw his arm around his girlfriend’s shoulder and subsequently watched her back away quickly. “I told you she loves me,” he smirked before tugging her away. She gratefully pressed herself into his body.
“Thanks,” she mumbled, careful that Apollo couldn’t hear.
“Hey, you don’t have to thank me. This is kind of my job as your boyfriend.”
“Still, you basically told him to back off. Kind of bold to deny a god.”
“Yeah, well,” he began, brushing a hair back from her face, “if he smites me we’ll just have to make up for the lost time in Elysium.” She giggled, hugging him closer as they headed off to bed.
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ahqkas · 7 days ago
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Hey! Can you please write headcanons for Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim where they get jealous when reader ignores them for some other guy? (They haven't confessed to her yet because of their issues) The reader is also very oblivious to their feelings and doesn't understand why they are acting weird around her male friend. Thanks 😘
♯BABY COME HOME 2 ME . . . he’s jealous !! (fem!reader)
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BRUCE WAYNE
bruce had perfected the skill of keeping his emotions under wraps, but when he saw you chatting animatedly with clark kent of all the people, his jaw tightened, and his usual stoic demeanor grew even colder. he didn’t say anything outright, but his silence became louder, his responses clipped and curt
he spent an unreasonable amount of time analyzing every interaction you had with the superman. he didn’t want to be jealous, but he couldn’t help dissecting your body language, the tone of your laughter, and how often you glanced in clark’s direction. the world’s greatest detective is undone by a simple smile exchanged between you and the man of steel
so he started subtly trying to one-up clark whenever you were around. If clark complimented your choice of book, bruce casually mentioned that he had donated an entire library to that author’s hometown. if clark suggested grabbing coffee, bruce offered to fly you to paris for the best croissant you’ve ever had (competitive much)
he became strangely territorial, appearing wherever you and clark happened to be. need help with research? bruce suddenly has all the resources at his disposal. want to attend a charity event? bruce personally invites you as his guest. his subtle possessiveness confused you, but he waved it off with a dismissive, “i was in the area.”
despite being oblivious, clark catches on pretty quickly. he teases bruce about his attitude, whispering, “you know, she’s just being friendly,” during a team meeting. bruce’s only response is an icy glare, but inside, he’s frustrated that even clark can see what he won’t admit
bruce started making dry, sarcastic remarks when clark’s name came up in conversation. when you mentioned how nice clark is, bruce grumbled, “nice? sure. but can he solve an international financial crisis in a single night?” you think he’s joking, but that man is 100% serious.
DICK GRAYSON
dick prides himself on being the laid-back, easygoing friend, but when he sees you laughing at one of wally’s cheesy jokes, something tightens in his chest. his usual smile falters for a fraction of a second before he forces it back into place. you don’t notice, but wally does, smirking knowingly
he starts teasing wally in a way that’s just a bit sharper than usual. “wow, wally, that story gets funnier every time you tell it,” he says with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. you laugh along, oblivious, but wally raises an eyebrow, clearly enjoying dick’s discomfort
he becomes oddly competitive, especially when wally’s abilities are involved. if wally races ahead to grab you something, dick will casually say, “sure, he’s fast, but can he do this?” before doing some ridiculously impressive flip that leaves you clapping. he’ll shrug it off like it’s nothing, but he’s secretly watching to see if you’re impressed
dick starts overthinking every little interaction. did you laugh harder at wally’s joke than at his? does wally text you more often? he gets caught up in his own insecurities, wondering if maybe wally is a better fit for you—someone fun and carefree, without the baggage he carries
wally, ever the troublemaker, starts leaning into the situation. he’ll throw an arm around your shoulder or wink at dick while you’re not looking, just to see how far he can push him. dick plays it off with a tight smile, but his fingers twitch as if he’s resisting the urge to yank wally’s hand away from you
at some point, wally corners dick with a smug grin, saying, “so, when are you going to tell her?” dick tries to deny it, but wally isn’t fooled. “come on, grayson. she’s oblivious, not blind. well, actually, she is blind to you, but that’s your fault.” dick groans, knowing wally won’t let it go, ever
later when you two actually get together, wally makes sure to get in the last word, casually saying, “took you long enough, grayson. you’re lucky i’m such a good wingman.” dick rolls his eyes, but for once, he doesn’t argue
JASON TODD
jason is naturally broody, but when he sees you laughing at one of roy’s jokes or leaning closer to hear him better, his usual scowl deepens. his arms cross tighter, his jaw clenches, and his responses become more gruff and sarcastic. you think he’s just annoyed in general, but roy knows better
he doesn’t want to feel jealous of roy—roy’s his best friend, after all—but he can’t help it. he knows his friend is charming and easygoing, and it eats at him that you seem to enjoy roy’s company more than his. he hates himself for the bitterness, but he hates how much he cares even more
he starts pulling away, telling himself it’s better to let you be happy than to deal with these feelings. he’ll find excuses to leave the room when you and roy are hanging out, claiming he has “important red hood business” or muttering, “you two don’t need me hanging around.” his absence feels colder than his usual aloofness :((
jason tries to compete with roy’s charm in his own way. he’ll offer to help you with things before roy gets the chance—fixing something in your apartment, teaching you how to defend yourself, or lending you his jacket when it’s cold. his gestures are quieter but filled with meaning, though you only see them as jason being his usual protective self
roy catches on to jason’s jealousy almost immediately and starts poking the bear. he’ll intentionally sit a little closer to you or tell stories that paint himself as the hero. jason’s glare darkens every time, and roy smirks like he’s won some unspoken game
his friend eventually pulls him aside, half-teasing, half-serious. “you’re going to scare her off if you keep growling like that, jaybird,” he says with a grin. jason denies it, grumbling, “she doesn’t feel that way about me, so what does it matter?” roy shakes his head, muttering, “you’re hopeless,” but decides to give you two some space
“took you long enough. it was written all over jaybird’s face.”
TIM DRAKE
tim isn’t the type to show his jealousy outwardly, so at first, he tries to brush it off. he tells himself he’s being irrational, but every time he sees you smiling at conner or laughing at one of his jokes, it’s like a knife twisting in his chest. he sits there, silently sipping his coffee, pretending it doesn’t bother him
instead of confronting his feelings, tim buries himself in work. whenever you and conner are together, tim conveniently has “important research” or “a mission to plan.” he thinks distancing himself will help, but in reality, he’s just overthinking the situation in the safety of the batcave monitors
tim’s usual polite demeanor starts to crack, and he can’t help throwing in a few passive-aggressive comments. if vonner makes a lighthearted joke about being a hero, tim mutters under his breath, “yeah, because we didn’t already know how amazing you are, conner.” you laugh, thinking tim’s just being witty, while conner gives him a confused side-eye
when you and conner are deep in conversation, tim randomly interjects with obscure facts or strategic insights to redirect your focus. “did you know the alignment of the stars tonight is perfect for an alien incursion? just saying.” you smile and ask him to elaborate, giving him a brief moment of relief that he has your attention again
conner, being tim’s best friend, catches on pretty quickly. he notices the way tim’s eyes linger on you a little too long or how his voice drops when you mention conner’s name. instead of teasing him outright, conner starts backing off slightly, giving tim room to shine
you start noticing tim’s strange behavior—his avoidance, his sudden snarky remarks about conner—and ask him what’s wrong. he insists it’s “nothing,” but the crack in his voice gives him away. still, he’s too guarded to admit what’s really bothering him
later after tim’s confession, conner gives him a playful nudge and a knowing grin. “see? told you she’d feel the same way. maybe now you’ll stop staring at her like a lost puppy.” tim groans, muttering something about how conner’s the real puppy, but he’s secretly relieved—and grateful—that his best friend had his back
after your heart-to-heart, tim’s confidence starts to grow. he’s still awkward at times, but he’s more willing to share how he feels, even if it’s in small, thoughtful gestures. and when conner teases him about finally making a move, tim just smirks, knowing he’s the one who has your heart
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theemporium · 11 months ago
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[3k] a f1 gossip page gets insider knowledge of what might be the paddock's best kept secret. in fact, it is so well kept that even the paddock don't know who it is about (aka a wee crack fic i couldn't get out of my head ft the papaya bunch).
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It was media day at the Barcelona Grand Prix when the rumours began.
Somewhere between team media duties and the official conferences, a group had found themselves lounging in the shared canteen. It was a neutral zone, the journalists weren’t allowed inside and it was just a place for most of the drivers to relax with their family and friends outside of the garages and motorhomes. 
You were sat in the seat next to Lando, his arm sprawled over the back of your chair and his thigh pressing against yours with how close he was sitting beside you. He was looking over your shoulder, a giddy smile on his face as you went through a few of the shots he had taken on his camera that morning—including an obscene amount of ‘candid’ shots that you made him swear not to post anywhere, despite his reassurances you looked gorgeous. 
It was a startled laugh from Daniel that caught everyone’s attention.
“There’s no fucking way!” Max laughed as he gaped at Daniel’s phone screen, shaking his head as he did. “Where the fuck do they get this from?!” 
Daniel only laughed harder. 
It took a few minutes before the Aussie finally turned his screen around and display the tweet for everyone to see. It took a few more minutes of snooping to find the article that followed the bizarre rumour. 
“Alright, who’s gonna fess up?” Lando joked as his eyes glanced over all the drivers currently sprawled across the various tables. “My bet is on Carlos. He seems like the kinda guy to have a secret kid.”
“Shut up,” Carlos scoffed before he nodded to the boy on his right. “It would obviously be Charles.”
The Monegasque spluttered out a laugh, his cheeks heating up. “It’s not me!”
“That’s what someone who has a secret kid would say,” Max retorted, seeming to enjoy the way the Ferrari driver’s face began to match the colour of his shirt. “You can tell us the truth about Charlie Junior.”
“First of all, I would never name my child that,” Charles said with his nose scrunched up in displeasure. “And I wouldn’t hide my children. I would be proud of them.”
“They could be hiding the children for privacy's sake. A paddock isn't exactly the best place for a child to be roaming around. Or the safest,” another voice spoke up and everyone’s eyes fell to the younger Aussie sitting across the table from you. Oscar squirmed a little under the sudden attention. “What?”
“You wanna tell us something, mate?” Lando questioned, a grin growing on his face.
Oscar’s cheeks burned red. “I-It’s not about me!” 
“You caught him,” Logan laughed as he playfully knocked his shoulder against his friend’s. “He has three kids back in Australia. Our lil’ Oscie is a father.”
Oscar frowned. “Don’t ever call me that again.”
“I’m offended you didn’t tell us,” you joked as you knocked your foot against his shin under the table. “I expected to be the godmother of one of your kids.”
“You would be if I had any,” Oscar quickly countered, making you snort in response. 
“Well, we have some clues,” Daniel commented as he leaned back in his chair, looking far too amused with the situation. “Time to start going through possible suspects.” 
“Maybe you’re trying to throw us off your scent,” you joked.
“Shhh, sweetheart, they can’t know about our secret family just yet,” the Aussie teased as he sent a wink your way.
You felt an arm tighten around you and turned to see Lando glaring—albeit, jokingly—towards his former teammate. “Back off, Ricciardo, if anyone is gonna have a secret family with her, it’s gonna be me.” 
Daniel laughed. “Please, the two of you couldn’t keep a secret from us if you tried!”
“Uh, we so could,” you retorted.
“You two couldn’t even keep Oscar’s surprise birthday party a secret and it was your idea,” Logan pointed out, raising his hands in mock surrender when your head snapped around to look at him. 
“We got excited!” You defended. 
“And you don’t think you would be excited about a secret family?” Oscar countered. 
“I think we could hide a secret pretty damn well if we tried,” you replied with a shrug as you leaned further back into your boyfriend’s embrace.
“Especially as something as serious as a secret family,” Lando added with a nod.
“Who cares?” Max eventually said with a laugh. “The rumour is a load of bullshit anyways. There’s no way anyone is going to believe it.”
As it would turn out, the whole world believed the rumours. The rest of the race weekend was haunted by the ‘new’ piece of gossip. The paddock was full of whispers of ‘who?’, the journalists thought they were being sly as they snuck in a few questions to catch the drivers off guard, and hundreds of fan theories took over every social media platform as the weekend commenced.
Truthfully, you thought it would be one of those rumours that dragged on for a bit as a joke but died down by the next weekend. 
You were very wrong.
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You didn’t realise how wrong you were until the Austrian Grand Prix came about the following weekend. 
With both McLaren drivers wrapped up in some nonsense challenge video the media team had set them up for, you had made your way towards the Williams garage to spend your Thursday afternoon with them instead. 
There was a cosy spot in the garage where you found yourself sat with Logan and Alex as the team buzzed around them, whispers and talks of the car’s potential that weekend. You were laying back in your seat, your feet thrown over Logan’s lap as you chatted away to Alex when the American caught both of your attention.
“There’s two!”
Logan lifted his head to find two matching confused expressions staring right back at him.
“There’s two,” he repeated as he turned his phone around, a single tweet sprawled over his screen with an all too familiar username on display. “Two kids! A driver is hiding two kids!”
You snorted. “You have got to be shitting me. One rumoured kid wasn’t enough so they added another?” 
“This driver has certainly been busy,” Alex mused as he took Logan’s outstretched phone, beginning to scroll through the never-ending comments under the tweet. “I guess the long term girlfriend thing does kinda narrow it down.” 
You raised your brows. “Don’t tell me you think it’s real.” 
“I still have my bets on Oscar,” Logan commented with a grin, his eyes crinkling in the way you knew they did before the boy laughed. “He’s a dodgy guy. I bet he’s Formula One’s own Hannah Montana with a whole double life.” 
“And, what? We are a part of his famous life?” You questioned. 
“It would make sense,” Alex supplied with a shrug. “He could have a normal family back home in Australia and no one would even know.”
You rolled your eyes. “Alex, don’t encourage him.”
“Hey,” Logan frowned.
“If it turns out to be true, you wouldn’t be upset that your best friend hid something like that from you?” You retorted, watching as the boy’s face slowly fell. 
Alex snorted. 
“I need to go talk to….someone about…something,” Logan said vaguely before he quickly stood up, knocking your feet off his lap and rushing out the garage with a serious look on his face. 
“Logan!” You called after him, laughing as you did so but it was a hopeless endeavour. He was a man on a mission and you knew nothing would stop him. “God, I should go before he ambushes the McLaren motorhome.” 
“Life as a parent, huh?” Alex joked, nudging your shoulder and snickering when you rolled your eyes. 
“Who would have thought I would end up adopting an American of all people?” You joked back before standing up. “Time to go stop my eagle son from throttling my kangaroo son.” 
Alex flashed you a smile. “Motherhood suits you.” 
“Oh, shut up,” you rolled your eyes. 
And little did you realise there was a certain pair of ears listening in to your playful conversation with the Williams driver, already drafting up a message before you left for the bright orange building a few garages down. 
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It was odd for you and Lando to find any alone time during a race weekend and it was mostly due to the two rookie drivers you had somehow adopted. 
It started off as a comfort thing at first. Lando knew what it was like to be young and new to the sport. He knew that even if he was coming in with friends, it still felt daunting. It was the reason he seemed to take Oscar under his wings after the Bahrain race weekend, despite the boy’s initial awkwardness. 
It had been you who gravitated towards Logan. Your heart warmed at the sight of your boyfriend helping out his younger teammate, but it completely shattered when you were making your way towards the McLaren garage and spotted a certain blond rookie hidden between motorhomes. He almost looked as though he was trying to make himself seem as small as possible. 
Lando didn’t question it when you started to venture to the Williams garages in between practices and media duties. He saw the look in your eyes, the small spark that showed your determination. He knew your kindness knew no limits and he would never even try to stop you. 
Neither of you realised you were signing up for the roles of the 2023 rookies’ grid parents until Logan and Oscar had sauntered into Lando’s driver room and all but settled themselves between you both on the Thursday of the Baku Grand Prix. 
You didn’t mind it, really. Race weekends tended to be hectic and chaotic on their own, so it was rare that you and Lando would spend much time alone. Beyond the exasperated sighs and joking remarks, neither of you minded when Oscar would lay his head on your laps after a gruelling interview or when Logan would ramble about some American custom he swears all three of you would enjoy. 
It was odd not being the youngest ones on the grid anymore, but there was also something so comforting in knowing you were a safe haven for these two boys in the paddock—and sometimes, even off the track. 
So honestly, it was an utter fucking shock that you and Lando found yourselves alone with time to kill in his driver’s room, especially with it being the Silverstone Grand Prix weekend. 
Neither of you questioned your luck for very long before you found yourself straddling your boyfriend, knees on either side of his hips and ass firmly planted on his lap. His hands were shamelessly groping your ass. Your hands were tangled in his curls, tugging a little harsher than usual just to hear his little whimpers in between kisses. It was shameless and sloppy and a little more than either of you intended—but you didn’t have a single issue with it. 
“Shit,” Lando moaned, his voice a little more high-pitched than usual when your lips met his neck. “I fuckin’ missed this.”
“Yeah?” You murmured against his skin, your tongue dancing along a particularly sensitive spot just below his ear. “I missed hearing how pretty you sound.”
“You can’t say stuff like that,” Lando grumbled, his eyes fluttering shut as he pulled you closer, as he pressed his body against yours. 
“But it makes you blush and you look so cute when you blush,” you teased as you lifted your head, admiring the pink tint to his cheeks. “My pretty boy.”
“You’re a tease,” Lando muttered as he sat up on the couch, as he pulled you closer so he could press his lips against yours again. 
“You love it,” you retorted, the words mumbled in between kisses. 
“So fucking much,” he grinned into the kiss, his hands wandering down your thighs before slowly moving back up to your ass. 
In fact, it had been so long since you and Lando got a chance to utilise your time alone in the paddock that you forgot the first rule of making out like horny teens on the small couch—lock the fucking door.
“HOW COULD YOU—OH MY GOD, MY EYES!” 
“GROSS! WE DID NOT NEED TO SEE BABY NUMBER THREE BEING MADE!”
If it weren’t for the tight hold Lando had on you, you would have been flat on your ass when Logan and Oscar stormed into the room. You stared at the boys in shock, your cheeks heating up as the mortification of the situation washed over all four of you. 
You quickly moved yourself off Lando’s lap, instead sitting on the couch beside him as you stared at the two rookies who currently had their hands over each other’s eyes. 
“Have you ever heard of knocking?!” Lando sighed.
“Have you ever heard of a door lock?” Oscar retorted.
“Touche,” he muttered back with a nod. 
“You know you can look now,” you told the boys, a little amused with their theatrics. “We aren’t naked.”
Logan hesitated. “Promise?”
“Promise.” 
Both boys slowly dropped their hands and, truthfully, you were expecting for them to instantly break out into whatever excited ramble they had come to tell you both. It wasn’t unusual for them to do as much, to want to share something with you and Lando that amazed them but didn’t want to admit to anybody else in fear of seeming like…well, rookies. They knew you and Lando would never judge their excitement to the world of Formula One and all the little quirks they were discovering.
Except, there was no excited storytelling or massive grins. Instead, both boys stood in front of you with frowns on their faces and their hands on their hips. 
Lando’s brows furrowed together. “What? What happened?”
“Why did you two not tell us we are older brothers?” Logan asked bluntly. 
You blinked. “Huh?” 
“Why did you not tell us we are older brothers?” This time it was Oscar who spoke up. “Why are you gatekeeping our little brothers from us?” 
Lando frowned. “Is this a joke? Is that a punchline? Am I being stupid right now?” 
“We get the others on the grid but us? This is a new level of betrayal,” Logan said with a completely serious look on his face. 
You shook your head, utterly baffled by the two boys. “What the fuck are you guys on about?” 
“You have been hiding a secret family from us! You are the ones the tweets are talking about!” Oscar said as he reached for his phone, turning the screen around so you both could see the latest article. 
“WHAT?!”
“You have been keeping a secret from us. Families don’t keep secrets!” Logan accused, his eyes narrowed slightly. “If we even count as your family now.”
You gaped at them. “You seriously think that article is about us?” 
“There’s proof!” Oscar retorted.
“What fucking proof?” Lando questioned, his brows furrowed together in confusion. “How can there be proof for a family that doesn’t exist?” 
As it would turn out, the informant that had been feeding the gossip page the whole narrative had been also secretly recording conversations they had heard around the paddock. Along with the article, a series of 'leaked' audios were also released and they were, in fact, yours and Lando’s voice. 
This person had managed to record countless conversations you shared with Lando and even some other drivers—even the conversation you had with Alex the previous weekend in the Williams garage.
“Remember we have dinner with the boys tonight. Our reservations are at six.” 
“Did you remind them to put sunscreen on before they went out? I don’t want them to burn.” 
“Who knew being a parent was so hard, huh?”
“Your son is bullying my son for his accent again. Make him stop or you’re both getting grounded.”
“Well, he definitely takes after you!” 
Random lines of conversations taken completely out of context and, truthfully, you could understand why Twitter was going crazy. It seemed undoubtable that you and Lando were talking about your kids, it sounded like you truly were two parents discussing your children—if it weren’t for one large and missing piece of information.
“We were talking about you two, dumbasses!”
Both boys stared at you, blinking a few times. “Huh?”
“We are talking about the both of you in every single one of those clips,” you told them and you couldn’t help but let out a disbelieving laugh. “There is no secret family—just you two.” 
“Oh,” Oscar murmured. 
“But—oh,” Logan muttered a few seconds later.
“So this whole rumour started because somebody thought we were talking about actual kids,” Lando noted before snorting. “Fucking hell.” 
“Everyone thinks you’re a dad,” you remarked with a laugh. “The boy who has one piece of tupperware that’s hanging on for dear life.”
Lando grinned back. “Well, I may not be a dad but I am a—”
“If you call yourself daddy, I am breaking up with you.”
Lando only laughed harder. 
“So…you don’t have secret siblings you’re hiding from us?” Logan piped up, a shy smile on his face.
You shook your head.
“Oh thank god,” he breathed out, pressing a hand on his chest. “I knew you wouldn’t betray us like that! We would obviously be the first ones you tell, right?” There was a pause. “Right?”
“Well, we walked in on them almost conceiving a child,” Oscar pointed out with a shrug before his nose scrunched up in disgust. “Please don’t conceive our little sibling in front of us.”
“You were the ones that stormed in on us,” Lando retorted.
“Still.”
“Well, consider this your warning to get out in the next thirty seconds, otherwise you’re gonna see something that will really scar you—”
Your cheeks burned. “Lando!”
“What?” Lando flashed you a cheeky grin. “If they are gonna make up rumours about me being a dad, I may as well start practising for the real deal.”
You rolled your eyes.
...
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liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo and 354,762 others
landonorris does this mean i officially get the dilf status?
view all 15,866 comments
user aww cute!
user WAIT THIS IS WHO THE RUMOUR WAS ABOUT
user lando needs to pull a carlisle cullen and adopt me into the family
yourusername in my humble opinion, i think dilf suits you perfectly ;)
oscarpiastri ew
yourusername you're too young to be on instagram
logansargeant and you are too old to sexting on instagram
yourusername you're grounded
user I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS
user okay but the photos are actually so cute wtf
user THEY BECAME GRID PARENTS INSTEAD OF ACTUAL PARENTS
maxverstappen1 they had to start somewhere
danielricciardo i'm just happy the safe sex talk we gave lando actually worked. got worried for a second
yourusername you were just scared you would become a grid grandpa
danielricciardo GRANDPA???
user nothing will ever beat this rumour
user THE FACT PEOPLE ACTUALLY THOUGHT HE HAD A KID
user TWO KIDS
user FAMILY JPEG ACCOUNT WHEN
landonorris 👀👀👀
.
5K notes · View notes
little-diable · 4 months ago
Text
Cocky Tornado Wrangler – Tyler Owens (smut)
Finally watching Twisters tonight. My poor aunt who has to listen to me gush about our husband. Thank you so much for the love on my other Tyler fic, I hope y'all will love this just as much. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: There are many things (y/n) would prefer to having to share a room with the man she hates. But does she really hate him? Or will the bed they share be enough to push them closer together?
Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f), piv, enemies to lovers, lots of teasing
Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem!reader (3.8k words)
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“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Her voice dripped with exhaustion, eyes tired and ready to flutter shut any moment now. But fuck, she couldn’t give in just yet, had to fight yet another battle with the self proclaimed tornado wrangler who was staring down at her with his signature smirk glued to his lips.
The smirk he wore in every video of his. Videos she watched whenever they were uploaded to his channel. Not that she’d ever tell Tyler that. And god forbid he’d ever stumble upon the saved favourites she watched in moments where she needed distraction from everything but him. 
“Well, seems like your prayers were answered, pretty. An EF4 and now we get to share a room, certainly feels like we’re even closer to heaven now, doesn’t it?” Tyler���s hand found her waist to give it a soft squeeze before he gently pushed her further into the motel room. It had been an exhausting day, filled with adrenaline highs as they chased tornadoes until the late evening. Even though they had been mesmerised by the beautiful disaster, they were now forced to stay in one of the close towns, cut off from the highway heading home. 
“I can take the couch.” She had her eyes set on the rather worn out couch which had been pushed against one of the walls that were painted in a faded out pink colour. The whole room made her feel like she was back at her grandparents home, letting an almost melancholic feeling settle in the pit of her stomach. 
“You sure you don’t wanna share? The bed’s big enough, or I could take the couch.” Tyler hung up his still wet hat before placing his bag down on the bed. (Y/n) watched him take in the room, giving her a few seconds to curse him for wearing a white shirt that now clung to his muscular upper body. His back muscles were shining through the wet fabric, letting her get lost in the thoughts of how it must feel to brush her nails along his soft skin. Thoughts that shot heat straight down to her core, knowing that she’d have to take care of that cursed longing in the shower. 
“In your dreams, Owens, and we both know you won’t fit on that couch.” His raspy laugh left her grinning, unable to stop her tired face from reacting to the man (y/n) claimed she hated and yet needed to feel close at any given chance. 
“Trust me, baby, my dreams are all about sharing a bed with you and so much more.” With a wink thrown her way, Tyler plopped down on the bed. He studied her for a moment, taking in her wet frame while his tongue kissed his teeth and his muscular arms were locked behind his head. She needed to get out of here, needed to find shelter in the warm shower before her body would do something she couldn’t stop it from doing. 
“I’ll grab a quick shower.” (Y/n) didn’t wait for his reply, darting for the bathroom that was just big enough for her to let go of a deep breath. 
She hated that she had dreamt of moments like these, wondering how it may play out with Tyler by her side, having to share a bed while the world outside was ending. And all they’d have eyes for would be one another, no matter how many tornadoes called for them. 
Within seconds, (y/n) had shuffled out of her wet clothes only to step into the small shower. She couldn’t stop her soft moan from leaving her as the warm water cascaded down her back as if it were hugging her. The silence she was now offered forced her thoughts back to the longing she couldn’t shake, the need to take care of the pulsing between her thighs that grew stronger with every passing moment. 
Her fingers moved quickly, knowing that she didn’t have much time before Tyler would disturb her peace, desperate for a shower himself. With her teeth buried in her lower lip, (y/n) let her fingers circle her pulsing bundle, imaging Tyler’s fingers instead of her own. 
Would he touch her with the same kind of urgency? Would he draw the same moans from her she oh so desperately wanted to give in to? No, he wouldn’t. He’d make her feel things she had never felt before, clashing through her like a tornado stronger than she had ever been fortunate enough to study. Tyler Owens was her own personal disaster and she was close to letting him rip her off her feet, close to allowing him to have his way with her without being able to protest. 
“Fuck,” the word rolled off her tongue all too quickly, knowing that she was already close to giving in to her high. (Y/n) didn’t pay the ache in her forearm any mind, didn’t worry about the way her fingers begged her to move slower, all she was focused on were her thoughts that painted a picture of Tyler and the way he’d touch her.
And with her head rolled back and her lips tightly pressed together, she came. (Y/n) let her orgasm wash through her, rubbing her pulsing bundle a few more times before her tired body found its way out of the shower.
It took her a second to realise that she hadn’t taken any clean clothes with her, drawing yet another exhausted groan from her. Carefully, she opened the door, hiding behind her towel while her eyes found Tyler’s frame. No longer was he wearing his shirt, exposing his muscular upper body to her eyes which tried to burn every inch of his naked skin into her mind. 
“Tyler,” her soft voice drew his eyes from his phone. “Do you have a shirt I can borrow?”
She expected a snarky comment, anything to tease her and rile her up some more, but Tyler stayed quiet, eyes focused on the parts of her body that weren’t covered by the door or her towel. (Y/n) could have sworn that he had swallowed heavily first before rising to his feet to reach for his bag. His eyes stayed glued to her while he reached a shirt out for her to take, letting his fingers brush against hers for a moment. 
It was cheesy almost, the buzz of lighting striking her at the small contact. A touch so small and yet so significant, her mind would probably think of it for days and nights to come.
With a small “thank you” rolling off her tongue, (y/n) stepped back into the bathroom to put on the shirt, grateful that it was long enough to cover her panties. Trembling legs carried her back into the room, not daring to look at Tyler, whose eyes she felt on her frame. No words were spoken between them as he pushed past her into the bathroom, allowing (y/n) to deeply exhale the second she was left alone once again. 
……
The moments after Tyler had returned from the shower, wearing nothing but boxers that clung to his body just as tightly as his wet shirt had, had been filled with a tight atmosphere. Barely any words had been shared between them, not as she had made herself comfortable on the couch, not as he had turned off the light while stretching out on the bed.
She had turned her back to him to stop her eyes from wandering, knowing that no matter how tired she was, her mind wouldn’t let her rest. Not when he was so close to her. Not when she heard his uneven breaths that told her he was still awake. Not when she could easily move closer to feel him pressed against her. 
What was he thinking of? Was he still riled up by today’s chase? Or was he also thinking of those moments where he had passed his shirt to her? 
Even though she begged her body to stay calm, to not move back towards him, she lost the fight within seconds. Her front was turned towards him, letting her eyes rest on the parts of his body that weren’t hidden by the blanket, making her awfully aware of how close he was to her. 
This was unusual for them, quiet moments where neither spoke, where no teasing or bickering could be heard. Nothing but the breaths both let go of while he kept his eyes focused on the ceiling and she wasn't strong enough to look away from him just yet.
“I can feel you staring, pretty.” Tyler rolled his head towards her, eyes meeting (y/n)’s like lightning striking a tree, buzzing straight through it to set it ablaze. “What’s going on in that confusing mind of yours?”
“Just because you’re not smart enough to understand my thoughts it doesn’t mean my mind’s confusing.” The words had left her all too quickly, drawing a gritty laugh from Tyler. A sound she loved hearing, no matter how hard she tried to deny it. A sound that left her smiling the second her ears were fortunate enough to hear it. 
“You wound me. I’d say we’re a pretty good team when it comes to understanding your plans.” Heat spread through every part of her body, a heat she was all too used to by now but still didn’t know how to work with. She rolled her eyes at Tyler before refocusing on his handsome features, taking in every part of the face she knew like the back of her hand. 
Her breath hitched in her chest as he lifted the blanket, patting the spot next to him, “Come up here, I don’t need you complaining about back pain tomorrow.”
(Y/n)’s body moved without holding back, crawling to the spot next to him as if she had done this numerous times before. It felt awfully right to lay next to him, to feel Tyler’s arm slowly wrap around her middle to cage her against his chest. 
“Do you remember the first time we chased together?” She tried to stop her hand from moving as he spoke, she really did. But yet (y/n) miserably failed, unable to keep away from his soft skin any longer, needing to feel it beneath her wandering fingers as she traced slow patterns on the skin of his warm chest. 
“I wanted to break your nose that day, god, you were even cockier back then. Do you still think people instantly recognise you when you meet them?” He shook his head with a smirk playing on his lips, tightening his grip on (y/n) as she shuffled even closer. That day was replaying in her mind every now and then, remembering how he had misjudged her for a fangirl, expecting her to almost faint when shaking his hand. And yet she hadn’t known much about him, had never watched any of his videos before that day. Something Tyler hadn’t taken as lightly as he should have, turning into the cocky asshole she had cursed for the past months.
“I no longer care about that, only worry about impressing you, pretty.” He pressed a kiss to her hairline before he let his eyes flicker back to the ceiling. His sharp jawline was exposed to her wandering eyes, making (y/n) awfully aware of how easily she could kiss him right now. It took everything in her not to move, to hold still as her heart picked up its beat. Whatever it was that had urged her on to fight against him these past months, it was now gone, leaving her unable to fight back and in need of something more. 
“We both know that’s a lie, Owens. All you worry about is tornadoes and busty women who ask you to sign their cleavages.” Her laugh was mixed with his as he let his gaze find hers again while squeezing her side. She fought against his grip, hating that he had found her most ticklish spot that made her toss and turn against him. Tyler seemed to enjoy the sight, letting his fingers find the spot again while shifting her around to hover over (y/n). With one hand pressed to the pillow and his knees caging in her right thigh, he left her no room to move away from him. 
“Do I hear jealousy?” His eyes wandered over her face, focusing on her lips as she fought against the need to look away. “You know there’s no need to be jealous, pretty. All you gotta do is give in and stop fighting our bond.” 
A sharp reply was burning on her tongue, and yet her body managed to win the fight, letting her fingers find the back of Tyler’s neck to pull him in for a soft kiss. He instantly replied to the touch, adding more pressure to the kiss with his body shuffling closer. It felt as if they were burning, tied together like two matches setting a petrol station ablaze, ready to alight the darkening night. 
With every swipe of his tongue, with every moan rumbling through them, it set in further that this was finally happening, that they were finally crossing that last bridge. No longer was she set on fighting it, purely focused on Tyler’s touch and the need to feel him as close as humanly possible. 
“Talk to me, baby, what do you want?” Her mind was torn between the kisses they kept sharing and the feeling of him growing against her thigh, telling (y/n) that he needed and wanted this as much as she did. Her fingers combed through his hair, letting her nails scratch his skin with just enough pressure to leave him tingling in excitement. 
“Everything, I want all of you, Tyler.” Hours ago she would have cursed herself for giving in so easily, for admitting that insatiable hunger she had felt for months now. But she no longer found it in herself to care, could no longer shy away from having whatever Tyler was about to offer her. Her words drew a groan from the tall tornado wrangler who kissed his way down her throat while shifting his weight onto his knees. They held eye contact as his hands disappeared beneath the shirt of his she was wearing, finding their way straight to her chest. 
“Fuck, feels like you were made for me, every part of you.” His praises sank in like a ship hitting the ocean ground, sinking lower with every passing second, forever resting on the ground like the praises he spoke to her. Forever etched into her mind. Forever remembering the way they made her feel lightheaded and giddy. 
Urgently he pulled the shirt over her head, set on exposing her body to his hungry eyes. Tyler let go of another groan as he looked down at her, making a silent promise that he’d have to take a picture of her in that position one of these days. He dipped his head down to  suck on her nipples, making her moan for him while she spread her thighs for him. His core met hers, leaving both breathless as his clothed cock rubbed against her clothed heat – a feeling so intense, it only urged Tyler on to move further down her body. 
“Will you let me taste you, pretty?” Only a breathless “Please” left (y/n), drawing a smirk to his lips. She watched his eyes light up as he pushed her panties down her legs, looking like he was marvelling at art – art so mesmerising he couldn’t stop staring. 
“Let me make you feel good, baby.” Those were the last words Tyler spoke before his tongue brushed her folds, drawing a moan from the both of them. His arms wove their way around her thighs, keeping her pressed to him as he ate her out like a starving man, high on her taste and the sounds she made for him. 
Nothing but moans managed to leave (y/n), getting lost in the feeling of Tyler sucking on her pulsing bundle, while he pushed two fingers into her – doing just what she had imagined him doing in the shower a while ago. He instantly managed to find that spot that made her see stars as he pressed down on it with his fingers, forcing (y/n) to choke on her sounds.
“Oh god, Tyler,” he chuckled against her skin, letting the sound vibrate through every part of her. From the corner of his eyes he could see her fist the covers with her free hand, the one that wasn’t buried in his hair, telling him that she was already close. And yet Tyler knew that he’d pull away soon, wanting to feel her cum around his cock like he had imagined her doing the past months. 
Tyler had worked hard for her attention, knowing that he had fucked it up the first time they had met. She had instantly managed to push him off his high horse, bruising his ego with her sharp words he could still recite today. And yet it had only made him desperate for more, set on pulling her closer like no other woman before her. 
“I could die a happy death between your thighs, pretty, but I need to fuck you now.” The dazy look she shot him made him feel proud, knowing that she had been about to cum on his tongue. She didn’t reply, at least not with words, with nothing but a whine did she pull him towards her for another kiss. He shuffled out of his boxers, freeing his twitching cock with a few movements. 
“Let me grab a condom.” He left her side for a moment, allowing (y/n) to sort through her thoughts which were all over the place. And yet she couldn’t carry about anything but the need to feel him buried inside of her, knowing that once she knew what it feels like to have him so close, she’d never be able to let him go again. A thought that left her torn between excitement and anxiety, unsure what was awaiting them. 
“Do you still want this? We don’t have to do this if you’re unsure, (y/n).” Tyler’s whispers ripped her out of her spiralling thoughts. She shook her head at him before pulling back in, focused on his handsome face, mustering every spot she could blindly find. 
“I want this, want you.” That’s all he needed to hear before aligning himself with her heat and slowly pushing into her. With his forehead pressed against hers, both needed a moment to adjust, not expecting to feel this, unable to put the sensation into any words that would make sense to their minds. It felt like they had been made for one another, made solemnly for this moment that felt as if the world had spinning, thrown off its path. 
“Move, please, Ty’.” He instantly gave in, pulling out of her only to push in with more strength. Their bodies met with every ferocious thrust, sending bolts of electricity down her spine. She arched her back off the mattress, needing to be even closer to him while he kept burying himself inside of her. 
Blood rushed in her ears, drowning everything out but the sounds Tyler made, sounds so raspy and deep she feared it was another tornado growing in the distance, guttural sounds which left her walls fluttering around his cock. Her fingernails scratched at his shoulder, set on leaving red marks that wouldn’t fade for days, claiming him in the most primal way she could come up with at that moment. 
“God, I can’t wait to fuck you like that for the rest of my life.” The words roll off his tongue just like that. There was no way he could stop them from leaving him. And for the first time in minutes she finds herself ripped out of her state, staring up at him with wide eyes. But Tyler doesn’t say another word, all he does is study her while fucking her closer to the edge. 
“Do you mean that?” She struggled to speak, needing to ground herself before choking on her words. Their eyes kept holding contact, even as he nodded his head while watching a smile grow on her slightly swollen lips. “Good, I don’t want you to let me go again, Owens.”
He took the words as a challenge, adding even more pressure to his thrusts to throw (y/n) back into her dazed state. With his fingers circling her pulsing bundle, he knew that it was only a matter of moments before she’d cum around his cock, allowing him to take in the most beautiful sight he’d ever be fortunate enough to see. 
His name left (y/n) one last time before falling off the edge. His hips kept meeting hers, fucking her through her high while feeling his own crawling closer. She clung to him, murmuring his name like her own personal mantra as he followed her, letting go with a groan she’d forever remember.
It took both a moment to move again, for him to pull out of her and to get rid of the condom and for her to slightly shift around on the mattress, watching his every move with her weight balanced on her forearms. Tyler found his way back to her within seconds, hovering over her to press another kiss to the lips he’d never get tired of kissing. 
“Are you okay?” His whispers left (y/n) grinning, nodding against his lips while another wave of euphoria swapped through her. 
“More than.” Unspoken feelings were hanging heavily in the air, knowing that both would have to address them rather soon, but all they did was look at one another, marvelling at the person they never wanted to let go of again. “Thank you for this.”
“Nothing to thank me for, pretty. And hell, I’m not even close to being finished with you tonight.”
2K notes · View notes
tongue-like-a-razor · 11 days ago
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Doctor Doctor, Gimme The News | Part II
Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Doctor!Reader
Summary: You receive a particularly difficult patient by the name of Bradshaw and you try your best to resist his charms.
CW: tall Bradley, Mavdad, it's still goofy XD
WC: 1800+
Part 1 | Masterlist
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You’re sitting at the bar with a drink in your hand, waiting for your friend to finish flirting with the bartender so you can pay your tab, when you hear a familiar voice from behind.
“Almost didn’t recognized you without the stethoscope.”
You glance over your shoulder wearily, instantly recognizing the tall aviator you met at the clinic earlier in the week. Bradshaw, was it? “Yeah, I get that a lot,” you say, giving him a polite smile before turning away.
Bradley doesn’t take the hint and plants himself on the barstool next to you. “So, are you gonna tell me your name? Or am I just gonna have to keep calling you Doc? Might get a bit awkward in bed.”
You snort into your drink as you’re taking a sip. Bradley grins, clearly pleased that he’s made you laugh. His slightly narrowed eyes sweep over your face with a quiet confidence, and you find yourself rather enjoying his attention. “Well, for the sake of making things less awkward,” you respond with a small smile, and then tell him your name.
“It’s nice to meet you,” he says, and then leans forward slightly to add, “again.”
You bite into your lip to suppress your widening grin.
“I was hoping I’d run into you, actually,” he comments, turning away to flag down the otherwise occupied bartender.
“Oh yeah?” you ask, feigning surprise.
“Yeah,” Bradley responds, tapping on his beer bottle and nodding at the bartender. He turns back to you and shrugs. “Saves me from having to fake an illness to come see you.”
You eye him somewhat reproachfully. “That would be extremely inappropriate.”
Bradley laughs. “If you think that’s inappropriate, I’m not gonna tell you what I planned on doing once I got there.”
Your eyes widen at the insinuation. “Lieutenant!” you exclaim.
Bradley continues chuckling. “Don’t worry, you’d have liked it.” He winks and then nods at the bartender who’s brought him his beer.
You stare at him because his boldness is mindboggling. “You shouldn’t be drinking with a head injury,” you point out.
He looks at you with amusement. “What head injury?”
“The one that brought you to my office?”
“You know what brought me to your office?” he says, and then points a thumb over his shoulder at a crowded table near the back of the bar. “Captain Maverick Mitchell. My self-appointed father figure,” he says in a tone that’s half-grudging, half-affectionate. “And possibly fate,” he adds as an afterthought.
You blink at him skeptically when he glances back at you. “Wow,” you say. “Pulling out the big guns.”
Bradley laughs again. “I have quite the arsenal.”
“Oh, I bet,” you say with a chuckle. “Aviator, right?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Bradley responds proudly. Then he nods at the glass you bring to your lips. “Looks like you need a refill.”
You shake your head. “I was about to head out actually.”
Bradley purses his lips and narrows his eyes. “But then I arrived and changed your mind, right?”
You laugh slightly. “Not quite, Lieutenant,” you respond, rising from your stool and waving at the bartender. “I’ve got an early morning.”
Bradley gets out of his seat and pulls out his wallet. “Allow me, please,” he says.
“That’s not necessary,” you reply uncomfortably. You don’t like feeling indebted to anyone.
Bradley gives you a more serious look. “It’s the least I could do for nagging you this evening.”
You can’t help the smile that spreads of its own accord. You find Bradley reasonably attractive, sure. But it’s the way he carries himself that’s really got you hooked. You can hardly pull your gaze away. “Don’t forget about the part where you were the most obnoxious patient.”
Bradley lets out a hearty laugh. “That deserves a whole pint, Doc.”
You give him a smile. “Maybe another time,” you say politely. Despite his persistence, you can’t jeopardize your position at the clinic by consorting with a patient.
But before you turn to leave, Captain Mitchell approaches the bar and, upon perceiving you, he exclaims, “Oh! It’s the doctor!” He gestures in your direction while looking at Bradley.
Bradley gives him a flat look. “No shit,” he says.
Maverick glances between the two of you and then nods in realization. “You’ve spotted her already.”
You press your lips together to conceal a smile as Bradley brings a hand to his face like he’s thoroughly embarrassed by his ‘self-appointed father figure’. “Hello again,” you say to the captain, extending your hand.
“Good to see you, Doctor,” Maverick replies with a knowing grin, shaking your hand. “Almost didn’t recognized you without the stethoscope.”
“Oh god,” Bradley groans. “That's embarrassing.”
Maverick looks over at him with a confused expression while you giggle. “I was actually planning on scheduling him in for a follow-up,” Maverick says. “Noticed some concerning behaviors.”
You raise your eyebrows while Bradley watches Maverick’s profile incredulously.
“New behaviors?” you ask, glancing back at Bradley.
“No, no.” Maverick waves a hand nonchalantly as he settles onto a barstool. “Not new.”
Bradley shakes his head. “Why are you such a shit disturber?”
Maverick laughs and claps him on the back. “You buy the lady a drink yet?”
You drop your head slightly to hide your growing smile.
“I was trying to,” Bradley declares. “Before your ass showed up.”
You look up apologetically at the two men who are now watching you expectantly. “I’m not…thirsty.”
Maverick winces while Bradley’s shoulders visibly fall. “It’s his fault, isn’t it?” Bradley says, gesturing at Maverick with his thumb again.
“How is it my fault?” Maverick exclaims.
“It’s not his fault,” you attest, glancing at the captain.
“You should talk some more about my concerning behaviors,” Bradley retorts.
Maverick snorts. “I was kidding!” he says. “She knows!” he gestures at you. “You know, right?”
You glance between the two men patiently, wondering if they realize just how much they have in common. “Neither of you is driving tonight, right?” you ask, feeling, for some strange reason, a sense of responsibility for them.
Maverick turns to face you with a jolt. “I’m sober,” he asserts.
Bradley’s eyebrows converge in a dubious expression before he looks back at you. “He’s not driving,” he confirms.
“And you?”
“This is only my second beer!” he exclaims.
You meet his gaze with a smile because you don’t want him to feel attacked. “Okay,” you respond gently. “Drive safe.”
You start to walk away when you hear Bradley say, “Can I walk you to your car, Doc?”
You turn to face him again, about halfway to the door. “You know my name now,” you say, and he grins at you.
“I do,” he agrees. “That was for old times’ sake.”
You sigh. “Sure, Lieutenant. You can walk me to my car.”
Out in the parking lot, Bradley muses, “I’m thinking of maybe dislocating my shoulder next week. That’s an easy fix, right?”
You look over at him sharply. “That’s not funny.”
Bradley grins. “Not even a little?”
You roll your eyes at him and continue walking.
“Come on, Doc!” he calls after you. “My sense of humor is a good thing, remember?”
You smile to yourself and slow your pace to let him catch up. “There are other ways of getting my attention besides injuring yourself,” you remark as he falls back in step with you.
“Such as?” he asks.
You approach your car and unlock the door. “I can’t give away all the answers, can I?”
Bradley presses his lips together and grins. “Does that mean I have a shot?”
You lower your gaze coyly. “I don’t know, Lieutenant.”
“That’s not a ‘no’,” he points out.
You smile, glancing back up at him. “No,” you agree. “I suppose it’s not.”
Bradley’s eyes sparkle mischievously as he holds your gaze. “Can I take you to dinner?” he asks.
“No,” you reply almost immediately. Then, after a beat, you add, “Not yet.”
Bradley licks his lips, still grinning. “I’ll take it.”
You chuckle slightly, reaching for the door to your car.
“Can I stand here with you a little longer?” he asks, his voice a little more raspy when it isn’t bursting with confidence.
You pause, your hand still on the door, shocked at how desperately you want to oblige. How delightful it would be to just say yes on a whim. Without considering the repercussions or weighing the pros and cons. Without deliberation or apprehension. Impulsively. The word itself makes you flustered. “Okay,” you say, glancing up at him as he shifts a little closer.
Bradley smiles at you and leans his back to the car. He stands quietly for a few moments, just existing beside you, which you find both endearing and infuriating. You don’t have a lot of time on your hands and simply standing around is a colossal waste of it in your books. But something about the warm evening breeze paired with the smell of the ocean and Bradley’s crisp cologne makes the experience less harrowing, and maybe even possibly pleasant.
Still, you’re restless. “So, when you said you wanted to stand here, you actually meant stand here…” you comment.
Bradley glances down at you with an amused expression. “You got something else in mind, Doc?”
You half-snort, half-chuckle. “I just thought maybe you had something else to say. I didn’t realize we’d be standing in silence.”
Bradley grins at you. “It’s called being present.”
You study him with a slight grimace, genuinely trying to keep your cynicism at bay. Being present isn’t a kind of luxury you can often afford. Most days, you don’t even get a chance to eat sitting down. “What does that accomplish?” you ask.
Bradley, who’s still watching you with a smile, replies, “Does everything you do have a purpose?”
“Of course,” you say. “Why else would I do it?”
Bradley raises his eyebrows and puts his hands into his pockets. “That’s very practical of you.”
“It’s efficient,” you point out, trying to highlight the importance of productivity.
Bradley nods patiently. “Sounds like you need a night off, Doc.”
You laugh. “I just had a night off. But it had a purpose – my friend needed help wooing the bartender.”
Bradley chuckles. “Has the purpose ever been to just have a good time?”
You make a face and shrug. “That’s not really a priority of mine.”
“Wow, Doc, you’re a hoot,” Bradley replies facetiously.
“I warned you,” you remind him, opening your car door.
Bradley leans his arm over the frame of your car as you climb inside. “You know you leave me no choice, right?” he says, ducking his head slightly to peer into the vehicle.
“What are you talking about?” you ask, glancing up at him.
“We’re going to have to rearrange your list of priorities,” he says.
You watch him for a moment, marveling at his persistence. His gaze drops briefly to your lips before flitting back up to your eyes again, and you wonder what it might feel like to be kissed by a guy like Bradley. It would probably be sexy and spontaneous. It would probably catch you off guard and possibly even offend you a little. Then again, maybe you wouldn’t mind being mildly offended if it meant kissing Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw. “I’m not sure that’s a realistic goal,” you say. Your tone might be sarcastic, but the statement is fairly accurate.
Bradley grins. “I don’t mind a challenge.”
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yenqa · 6 months ago
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SO AMERICAN! | where you meet tsukishima and—wow you are so american.
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♫ – currently playing… olivia rodrigo
warnings – profanity, reader is learning japanese and is american if u couldnt tell! reader is called pretty
pairing – tsukishima x fem!reader
a/n – hashtag semi hiatus! anyways i was reading an ao3 fic while listening to this song and it sparked smth in me so enjoy! (did my research on culture shocks btw guys!!)
word count – 571
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You’re smiling at him like you know him.
Tsukishima doesn’t know you. He’s just seen you for the first time when you walked into the gym–presumably to become the manager for the club next year.
It’s starting to worry him, you haven’t been properly introduced, only your eyes have met a few times, yet you don’t hesitate to smile every time you make contact.
You’re not in the same class. But he can tell by your mannerisms that you’re a foreign student. You talk a little louder than most, and your Japanese is accented but not enough where he can’t understand.
He knows he’s spot on when you go to greet Daichi with a handshake, he can see you firmly grip his hand which catches him off guard.
Y/n. That’s your name.
It’s a pretty name he admits to himself, you’re a pretty girl so it fits. He doesn’t acknowledge that–or tries not to.
You’re standing in front of the whole team being introduced to everyone, waving and smiling like you’re old friends.
He can see from his peripheral vision when they all bow that you’re unsure of what to do. You awkwardly tilt your body down too, and he lets out a quiet chuckle.
It’s cute.
He’s disgusted by himself, he thinks that something is up with him.
Shaking his head, he starts his warmups.
He tries not to keep his eye on you, but he can’t help it.
You’re holding a clipboard now, there's a paper on it he can’t see, but he can tell by your furrowed brows that you’re still struggling a bit with reading.
Making an excuse for himself, he walks up to where his water bottle–luckily right next to where you are, turns around and takes a sip of it. He’s standing right next to you now, reading the same paper as him.
Your eyes scan left to right on the paper, he laughs.
Whipping your head over, you ask, “Is something wrong?”
“Right to left, we read right to left.” He speaks a little slower than his usual pace—hoping you wouldn’t be offended.
You aren’t a smile grows on your face instead. “Oh my gosh–I was wondering what was wrong this whole time!” You laugh at yourself, thanking him quietly before restarting, eyes moving right to left this time.
“You’re so american.” He mutters, a chuckle comes out of him as he says it.
“Is that a compliment?” You ask, the paper is discarded now, your full attention is on him.
“Whatever you want it to be.”
You roll your eyes, hitting his shoulder with no real force behind it, “Whatever Kei.”
He doesn’t miss the fact that you’ve called him Kei instead of his surname. He brushes it off as another mistake, you’re new to the country after all.
Later he hears you complimenting “Kageyama and Hinata”, your voice is still louder than what a normal student speaks, and you’re gushing about their skills, to their faces. But then he looks over at you, and you two make eye contact.
He almost misses how you wink at him, it's a teasing one but it still makes his heart flutter. Then as quickly as you looked over, you looked away, a bright smile present on your face while you talked to his other teammates.
It’s definitely not fair of you to make him feel this much. Because he might just fall in love.
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yenqa © please do not copy, steal or translate.
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enha-doodles · 7 months ago
Note
please do a slytherin boys reacting to you being a hufflepuff pls
SLYTHERIN GUY'S REACTION TO YOU BEING A HUFFLEPUFF | ✧⁺。
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Pairing : (Mattheo , Tom , Theodore, Lorenzo , Draco) x reader
Notes : okay so now only Slytherin left and next will definately be an enhypen post , it's been too long since I posted something for them 😭
Warnings : not proofread , written in a hurry my bad guys
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MATTHEO RIDDLE
Mattheo's smirk widens as he gazes at you, unable to contain his amusement. "Well, well, well, my dear Hufflepuff," he begins, his tone playful yet affectionate, "aren't you just the epitome of kindness? It's like you're allergic to anything even remotely sinister." He chuckles softly, leaning in closer, his breath warm against your ear. "But fear not, my sweet, for I'll be your guide through the shadows. Together, we'll navigate the dark corners of Hogwarts, with your innocence as our secret weapon." He grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Who knows, maybe you'll even rub off on this Slytherin and teach me a thing or two about being... less evil." He winks, his playful tone laced with genuine fondness for you. "But until then, let's just enjoy the ride, shall we?" You can't help but laugh at his teasing, feeling a surge of affection for the charming Slytherin who's captured your heart.
TOM RIDDLE
Tom rolls his eyes at the mere mention of Hufflepuff, muttering about the insignificance of a house that values kindness above all else. He's determined to toughen you up, constantly pushing you to shed your soft exterior and embrace the cold, hard reality of the wizarding world. "Kindness is a weakness, darling," he'll growl, his gaze steely as he lectures you on the importance of ambition and cunning.
He'd manipulate you by turning you against your friends because in his eyes you are born to evil that's why you ended up with him , your friends are the wrong influence "And those so-called friends of yours? They're just wolves in sheep's clothing, waiting to take advantage of your sweet nature. But fear not, my dear, for I'll always be here to protect you" He's there even if it means scaring away every potential suitor with a well-timed glare.
THEODORE NOTT
Theodore can't help but chuckle at the irony of your Hufflepuff allegiance, but it's all in good fun. He'll mock you mercilessly, recounting every Slytherin victory over Hufflepuff in Quidditch or other competitions. Yet, despite his teasing, Theodore knows when to concede defeat, his love for you outweighing any petty house rivalry.
"Alright, alright, my little badger," he'll sigh, pulling you into a tight embrace. "I may be a Slytherin, but you've got me wrapped around your little finger. Just promise me you'll stop bringing up that time Hufflepuff beat us in the House Cup. It still stings, you know."
LORENZO BERKSHIRE
He'll even go as far as pretending to roar like a ferocious dog lion - oh the irony , whenever someone gets too close, much to your amusement.
Lorenzo can't resist the urge to baby you at every turn, his heart swelling with pride whenever he looks at you. He'll hover protectively by your side, his arm draped over your shoulders like a shield against the world. "My sweet little badger," he'll coo, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I'll protect you from every danger, real or imagined. No one's laying a finger on my precious Hufflepuff, not while I'm around."
DRACO MALFOY
Draco's annoyance is as evident as ever, his aristocratic features twisted into a perpetual scowl (his resting face actually) as he begrudgingly accepts your Hufflepuff allegiance. He'll grumble about the stupidity of your house, his annoyance palpable in every word he utters. "Hufflepuff" he'll mutter under his breath, as if the mere mention of the word leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.
But despite his disdain, Draco can't help but crave the princess treatment you're all too willing to provide. "Fine, Hufflepuff," he'll huff, crossing his arms in a dramatic display of annoyance. "But don't think for a second that I'm not expecting extra cuddles to make up for it."
。    ✧    ⁺     。
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pitchsidestories · 16 days ago
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wouldn't change a thing II Ona Batlle x Reader
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masterlist I word count: 1415
a/n: dear readers, we hope you'll enjoy the oneshot which is inspired by this lovely request here. 💗💗
Being relatively tall for a woman had its advantages, you had to admit. Especially when you played for Barcelona and their dressing room wasn’t designed for the average female body height.
In contrast to your several inches shorter girlfriend, you could reach all the shelves with ease.
But you and Ona had established a routine by now. After every training, she would wait for you to hand her the towels, so she didn’t have to climb up on the bench to reach them.
You had decided that the injury risk was way too high and offered to do it for her. Your height had to be good for something.
As usual, you also handed her the towels after todays’ training as well: “Here you go.“
“Thank you.“, Ona smiled and pushed herself against you for a hug.
“You’re welcome.“, you replied as you held her close to you.
You pressed a quick kiss to her temple as she was the perfect height for it and brushed a few stray hair from her forehead.
Mapi giggled from the other side of the dressing room: “You’re too tall for your girlfriend, y/n!”
You grimaced at the defender: “If that’s the case, then Ingrid is too tall for you too.“
“I can reach my own stuff.“, Mapi shrugged.
“So can I but sometimes it’s just easier that way.“, Ona replied unimpressed and threw the towel over her shoulder.
Alexia joined the conversation, a sly smirk on her face: “Oh please, everyone knows that Ona loves the princess treatment.“
“She can’t get enough of it.“, Aitana agreed with a laugh.
Ona rolled her eyes, way too used to their teasing: “Guys.“
“Yeah, it’s not that funny.“, you sided with your girlfriend.
Mapi shook her head, still grinning: “I think it is.“
You sighed: “Of course you do.“
You knew what was coming. As soon as one started, the others would join immediately. It was some kind of weird Barcelona Femeni love language. You quietly braced yourself for the bad jokes that would inevitably be coming.
“Are you even allowed to wear heels when you go out with Ona?”, Cata asked. She was already wheezing about her own joke.
“You’re definitely more likely to see me in heels than Oni.“, you smiled back at her. Ona loved her sneakers, you loved a good pair of heels, height difference or not.
Cata continued: “Poor Ona is even smaller then. But at least you two don’t bump heads when you go dancing.“
“But I always find her in any crowd.“, Ona shrugged, winking at you.
“And Ona is the perfect height for hugs.“, Fridolina chimed in, sounding more delighted than taunting.
“She is.“, you confirmed.
“So cute with your matching opposite aesthetics.”, Salma commented with a huge smirk on her lips.
“Salma don’t.”, Mapi warned, clearly fearing the tall forward would stop the banter with her observation.
“Why?  It’s very opposite.”, she chuckled.
Meanwhile, you turned around to face your girlfriend. “Are you ready to go, Oni?”
No words were needed for her to answer the question, she simply jumped on to your back grinning.
While you made sure she was positioned safely, the brunette murmured into your ear. The smile carried through the voice. “Ready.”
Both of you said your goodbye to your teammates, when you were almost at the door Vicky yelled smiling. “Bye, princess.”
“They’re such idiots.”, Ona sighed.
“I love them though despite the teasing.”, you admitted.
“Yeah, me too. It’s a normal height difference though, they’re just annoying.”, she said.
You nodded in agreement. “True.”
“Let’s just go home.”, the defender suggested in a longing tone, nothing sounded better in her ears than having a good dinner and afterwards being cozy on the sofa with her dog and you.
Noticing the dreamy look in your girlfriends’ eyes you decided. “Yes, please. I’ll drive, you already look a bit sleepy.”
“Okay. Fine, I won’t complain.”, Ona answered.
“Good.”
The two of you got into your shared car while the fellow football player started the music playlist, she couldn’t help but to tease you. “Even though you drive horrible.”
“Excuse me? Your fast driving isn’t better.”, you protested laughing.
“I drive well.”, the defender countered.
“Do I’ve to remind you of-“, you begun.
“I’m quiet.”, Ona interrupted you softly. 
Fast forward and it was the night of the Ballon d’Or.
Sadly, not many of the female players could attend the event because it was set during the national team break, but a few of your club teammates and you were able to.
On the other hand, the gala wasn’t known in its history to be this supportive of women footballers in general.
Surrounded by the nominated female players you put on your high heels who gave you the needed confidence boost and calmed your nerves for the moment.
“You look gorgeous.”, Ona whispered admiringly, tiptoeing to place a heartfelt kiss to your lips.
“So do you.”, you told her and meant every word, your girlfriend wore her beautiful long wavy hair open, only slight make up, so her natural beauty shone through even more and the defender was in an outfit she felt comfortable in.
“Naw.”, Aitana remarked.
Impatiently Caroline threw in. “Can you two love birds hurry up now?”
“We’re good to go.”, you assured the Norwegian.
“Finally.”, Alexia noted happily.
“Come on, we can’t be late.”, Aitana reminded everyone urgently.
“Coming.”, you tried to soothe the small midfielder.
As you followed her, Ona interlaced her fingers with yours and whispered: “Don’t let go of my hand.“
“I won’t. Nervous?”, you quietly asked.
She shook her head: “Not at all.“
“Me neither. It’s between Caro and Aitana.“
“We’ll see.“, she replied earnestly which caused you to pause and raise your eyebrow at her.
“What? They’re simply the best, Ona?”
She turned back to you with a frown: “I didn’t say that they are not.“
“You would have deserved a nomination too.“
She shrugged nonchalantly: “I don’t care about this award to be honest. Defenders usually don’t win.“
“It’s not fair.“, you complained on her behalf.
“It’s fine.“, she assured you.
You pulled her in for a hug. First you wanted to press a kiss to her forehead but remembering your lipstick, you thought better of it: “You’re still the best.“
She chuckled lightly, brown eyes shining brightly as she looked up at you: “You’re too sweet.“
“Girls, time to pose together. And stop that teeth rotting sweet talk!”, Alexia called over to them, right before she stepped on the red carpet.
“We’re not doing anything.“, Ona blinked innocently while the two of you joined the group standing in front of the photographers.
“Lies.“, Caroline said through her teeth.
“Just smile for the camera.“, Aitana ordered.
You did as you were told, before taking your seats at the ceremony. You politely applauded for every winner and cheered whenever your teammates were onstage but with every passing hour you could feel Ona getting more impatient.
“Glad we’re done with this.“, she jokingly sighed as the ceremony ended and people moved on to the afterparty.
“Sounds like someone wants to go home.“, you grinned.
Nodding, Ona bit her lip: “Yes, my girlfriend looks so hot and I really don’t feel like sharing tonight.“
“Oh, you don’t?“, you teased but just like her, you didn’t mind skipping the party and go straight back to your hotel room.
“No.“
Hand in hand, you snuck out of the building and hailed the next cab. You scrolled through several social media posts of the Ballon d’Or on the drive back. Of course, you couldn’t help but check the comments too and they were exactly what you expected.
You chuckled softly: “They write so much bullshit, amor.“
“Let me see.“, Ona demanded as she scooted closer to have a look at your phone screen.
“They’re still commenting about our height difference.“, you grinned. “Seems to bother them a lot more than us.“
“Right? Let them keep talking, I don’t care.“, Ona laughed and leaned over to kiss you.
The cab stopped in front of your hotel. You could barely wait to go inside.
A few years ago, comments like these would have plunged you into self-doubt, wishing you were a few inches shorter. But not since Ona came into your life.
With Ona you felt confident and desired, not despite but because of your height. They could say what they wanted, all you could see in those photos was a couple that matched each other perfectly.
gif source: https://www.tumblr.com/batlleonafc/748573331298697216/her-smile-lights-up-every-room?source=share
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lila-lou · 1 month ago
Text
✨Pumpkin Spice Latte✨
Summary: After a rough hunt leaves Dean bruised and exhausted, the last thing he’s up for is a Halloween party.
-Halloween-Special-
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Age Gap, Language, Fluff, Dean being in pain
Word Count: 6041
A/N: English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. 💛
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Dean wrinkled his nose, glaring at the cup you'd just shoved into his hand. "What the hell is this? It smells like shit!", he grumbled, giving the cup a suspicious look. He was already settled in the driver’s seat, clearly not thrilled with whatever concoction you'd handed him.
You chuckled, tossing your handbag into the backseat before sliding into the passenger seat. "Relax, Dean", you said, grinning as you leaned over and snatched the cup back from him. "It's a pumpkin spice latte—the best thing on earth".
He raised an eyebrow at you, clearly unconvinced. "Pumpkin what? Since when do pumpkins belong in coffee?".
You just laughed, taking a sip and savoring the sweet, spiced warmth. "Since forever, you just haven't lived until you’ve tried it".
Dean gave a low grunt, his eyes flicking from the road to the cup in your hand, shaking his head. "Yeah, sure, whatever makes you happy". He muttered something about it being "a waste of perfectly good coffee" under his breath, but there was a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he started the Impala.
You watched Dean out of the corner of your eye as he focused on the wet road ahead. The rain tapped rhythmically against the windshield, blurring the autumn scenery. The streets were lined with wet, brown leaves, clinging to the pavement from the downpour. It was October 31st, Halloween, and you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of what was coming tonight.
"So", you began, teasingly dragging out the word as you took another sip of your pumpkin spice latte, "you really going to keep sulking about the party, or are you going to try and enjoy yourself tonight?".
Dean’s jaw tightened slightly, but he kept his eyes on the road, the Impala’s wipers swishing back and forth as they cleared the rain. "I told you, I’m too old for that crap", he grumbled. "Costumes and fake blood? I’m living that nightmare every day. Don’t need to do it for fun".
You couldn't help but laugh softly, turning to fully face him. "Oh, come on, Dean. You're not that old". You leaned closer, resting your elbow on the console, grinning mischievously. "Besides, you promised you'd come. You can handle one night of normal fun, right? Maybe even dance a little".
He gave you a sidelong glance, his lips pressing into a thin line before he let out a heavy sigh. "Normal fun? Is that what we're calling this?".His voice was thick with sarcasm, but you noticed the faintest hint of a smile creeping up as he continued. "I swear, if anyone tries to put me in some ridiculous costume—".
"Relax, grumpy", you interrupted, laughing again. "I already picked out something easy for you. You just have to show up and look hot, which, lucky for you, you do naturally".
Dean scoffed but finally turned to give you a quick look, his green eyes flashing with amusement. "Yeah, well, you’re lucky I’m putting up with this at all. Only reason I’m going is ‘cause you’re twenty-five and apparently this kind of stuff is still a thing for you".
You reached over, resting your hand on his knee. "And that’s why you’re the best. But seriously, it won’t be that bad. Just a few hours, a few drinks, and then you can come back to being your broody, old self". You winked, knowing how to push his buttons just enough to get that reaction out of him.
Dean groaned dramatically, shaking his head as the Impala cruised down the slick streets. "I don’t know what I got myself into with you, sweetheart".
You grinned, settling back into your seat, the warmth of the car contrasting with the cold, rainy night outside. "You’re gonna have fun, Winchester. You just wait".
Dean pulled the Impala smoothly to a stop in front of your apartment complex, the rumble of the engine quieting as he turned off the ignition. The rain had softened to a steady drizzle, but the streets were still slick, shimmering under the streetlights. You glanced over at him with a small smile, grateful he’d driven you home instead of making some excuse to drop you off and head back to whatever hunt he had lined up next.
Every now and then, you managed to convince him to stay at your place, craving at least a few hours of something that felt like a normal relationship. Over time, Dean had slowly gotten used to the idea, and now your apartment was almost as much his as it was yours. He had a drawer in your bedroom, his favorite flannel hung in your closet, and you were pretty sure he had stashed at least two knives and a flask of holy water somewhere between your kitchen and your living room.
As the two of you stepped out into the cool evening air, you reached into the backseat to grab your handbag, then made your way towards the stairs. Dean followed behind, the sound of his boots heavy on the rain-slicked steps. You felt his presence just behind you, a constant, reassuring force in your life that somehow made everything feel safer, even when you both knew it never really was.
Pausing at the top of the stairs, you turned to him with a smirk and held out your pumpkin spice latte again. “Hold this”, you teased, already anticipating his eye roll.
Dean stared at the cup like it personally offended him but took it from your hands with a reluctant sigh. “You really gonna make me carry this thing again?”, he muttered, though the playful glint in his eyes told you he didn’t mind as much as he let on.
You shrugged, turning back to unlock the front door. “Hey, consider it training. Maybe someday you’ll be converted to the greatness of pumpkin spice”.
“Not a chance in hell”, Dean grumbled behind you, though his tone was lighter now, more relaxed.
You unlocked the front door to the building, the soft click barely audible over the rain still pattering outside. Dean followed you inside, as you climbed the short flight to your apartment on the first floor. The air in the hallway was thick with the scent of old wood and rain-soaked leaves, familiar and comforting in a strange way. Dean, though, had that ever-present edge about him, his eyes darting briefly to every shadow, every dark corner, even in this quiet space. It was his nature to be alert, always ready for whatever might come.
You reached your apartment door and dug the keys out of your bag, glancing at him as you slid the key into the lock. “You know, you could relax, Dean. I promise there’s nothing lurking in the hallway tonight”.
Dean huffed softly, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Yeah, right. You never know. Last thing I need is to get jumped by a demon on a coffee run”. He handed you the cup again, shaking his head. “Here, take your damn pumpkin milk. Thing’s probably cursed”.
You chuckled, taking the cup back as you pushed open the door and stepped inside, the warmth of the apartment immediately wrapping around you. “No demons tonight”, you promised, stepping out of your shoes by the door. “Just you, me, and some quality time before we have to deal with the craziness later”.
Dean followed you inside, his usual routine kicking in. He tossed his keys on the small table near the entrance, his eyes sweeping the room in his typical hunter way, as if something might have changed in the time you’d been gone. It hadn’t, of course—everything was just as it always was, cozy and familiar.
You placed your latte on the kitchen counter, watching him as he shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it over the back of a chair. Despite the tough exterior, there was a comfort Dean found here, whether he’d admit it or not. He didn’t need to be on high alert every second he was with you, and in moments like this, you could see the faintest bit of ease slip into his posture.
“Feels good to be back here”, you said softly, moving to stand beside him. “Even if you don’t like to admit it”.
Dean raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a slight grin. “I don’t dislike it”. He glanced around as if contemplating his next words. “You got room for all my crap here now anyway. Might as well use it”.
You smiled, standing on your toes to plant a soft kiss on his cheek. “That’s a start”.
You watched Dean with a quiet smile as he settled in, kicking off his boots and grabbing a beer from your fridge without so much as a word. It had taken time for him to feel at home here, but now, it was second nature. You knew he would never fully leave the bunker or Sammy—that was his world, his responsibility. But nights like this, when you could have him here, even for a little while, it was all you asked for.
Slipping off your coat, you draped it over the chair by the kitchen and made your way towards the double glass doors that led out to the small balcony. The rain was heavier now, coming down in sheets and turning the streetlights outside into glowing halos in the mist. You stood there for a moment, listening to the familiar hum of the rain as it splashed against the balcony, the rhythmic sound somehow making everything feel even cozier inside.
Turning back, you caught sight of Dean on the couch, already making himself comfortable. He had plopped down heavily, his beer in one hand as he took a long drink. His flannel had ridden up slightly in the process, exposing a strip of skin along his stomach, the curve of muscle there a casual reminder of just how strong he really was. He glanced over at you, catching you staring, and raised an eyebrow.
“What?”, he asked, his eyebrow raised in that typical, playful way, though you could see the weariness just beneath the surface.
He had only been back for a day after spending over two grueling weeks on the East Coast with Sam and Cas, hunting down a particularly nasty group of demons. It was a brutal case, by the sound of it—full of close calls, too many injuries, and not enough rest.
You could still see the faint marks of it on him now. Scratches over his arms, a bruise along his jawline that hadn’t quite faded yet, and the way he moved, just a little too carefully, told you his ribs were still aching. But Dean being Dean, he’d never admit to being in pain. Too proud. Too stubborn. It was like he wore his injuries like another layer of armor, determined not to show weakness, even when he was home with you.
But despite all that, despite the rough edges and the exhaustion he carried like a weight on his shoulders, you had missed him more than you could put into words. And now, just seeing him here, sprawled out on your couch, looking so effortlessly Dean with that lazy grin and the hint of his v-line peeking out from beneath his flannel, you felt a surge of warmth run through you. It pooled low in your belly, a slow heat building at the simple sight of him, all muscle and raw presence, even in his most relaxed state.
Heat rising to your cheeks as you tore your gaze away from his exposed skin, trying not to let it show just how much you had missed everything about him. But Dean, of course, noticed.
“Something on your mind, sweetheart?”, he asked, his voice rough, but teasing, as he took another slow sip of his beer. His eyes were on you now, sharp despite the tiredness behind them, and you could feel that familiar pull between the two of you, like an unspoken challenge.
You shook your head slightly, trying to play it cool, though you could feel the heat still simmering beneath your skin. “Just… glad you’re home”, you said softly, your voice carrying more weight than you intended. You met his gaze again, knowing full well he could see right through you, but in moments like this, you didn’t care.
Dean set his beer down on the table, leaning back into the couch, his eyes still locked on you. “Yeah?”, he asked, his voice a little softer now. “I missed you, too”. There was no teasing in his tone this time, just honesty, plain and simple, and it hit you in a way that made your heart skip a beat.
You crossed the room and sat beside him, feeling the warmth of his body next to yours, even though he was still being careful not to show just how sore he really was. You reached out, your hand resting gently on his side, just above where you knew his broken rib was, and he flinched, just a little. “Dean…”, you started, your voice quiet as you brushed your thumb over the fabric of his shirt, feeling the tension in his muscles.
“I told you I’m fine”, he muttered, that stubborn edge creeping back into his voice as he glanced away. But you could feel how tightly he was wound, the pain he was hiding, and it tugged at your heart.
You gave him a look, one that you knew would cut through his defenses. “You don’t always have to be fine, you know”.
Dean sighed, his shoulders dropping just a little as he looked back at you. His expression softened, and for a moment, the tough hunter exterior slipped away. “Yeah, well… old habits”, he murmured, a rueful smile tugging at his lips.
Without saying anything, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his jaw, careful not to aggravate any of his bruises, and you felt him relax, just a little, under your touch. “Just… let me take care of you tonight”, you whispered against his skin, your lips brushing the edge of his stubble. “You’ve been through enough”.
Dean closed his eyes, exhaling slowly as if he was finally letting himself take in the comfort you were offering. His arm came around you, pulling you in closer, and you could feel the tension melting from his body, even if just for a moment.
“Alright”, he murmured, his voice low and rough, “but don’t go thinking this makes me soft”.
You chuckled softly, pressing another kiss to his jaw, your hand sliding up to rest against his chest. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Winchester”.
Dean let out a low hum, his fingers brushing through your hair as he held you close, and for the first time in weeks, it felt like the world outside had finally quieted.
You grabbed the remote and flicked the TV on, letting the soft murmur of the background noise fill the room. A movie, maybe something familiar, began playing as you stood up, casting one last glance at Dean, who was already half-lost in the feel of the couch beneath him, his eyes lazily following you as you made your way toward the bedroom.
The door was open, giving Dean a clear view from where he sat, and you could feel his eyes on you as you reached for the hem of your shirt, tugging it up and over your head. The soft fabric fell to the floor, and you couldn’t help but smirk to yourself as you stripped down to your underwear. You knew Dean was watching, his gaze heating up the space between you, and despite the comfort of the moment, the tension between you remained undeniable, lingering in the air like a spark waiting to catch fire.
You moved to your drawer, rummaging through for something cozy to slip into, all while feeling Dean’s eyes still fixed on you.
You smiled to yourself as your fingers brushed against one of Dean’s flannels, the fabric soft and worn from years of use. It had practically become yours by now, a constant fixture in your drawer because, if you were being honest, you loved wearing his clothes just as much as he loved seeing you in them. There was something comforting about it—the way it smelled faintly of him, how the sleeves were just a bit too long on you. It was like wrapping yourself in his presence, even when he wasn’t around.
You slipped it on, the familiar fabric brushing against your skin, warm and soft, the scent of Dean still lingering faintly on it. As you buttoned it up, you could feel the way his gaze lingered on you from the other room, a quiet intensity that sent a thrill through you.
Turning slightly, you caught a glimpse of him from the doorway. Dean had shifted on the couch, his body tense in that subtle way he tried to hide, the beer now forgotten on the table beside him. His green eyes were locked on you, darker now, his focus entirely on the way the flannel draped over your frame. You knew what he was thinking without him having to say a word.
The way the flannel clung to you, oversized but unmistakably his, seemed to ignite something in him. It made it clear that, despite everything—the danger, the hunts, the weeks spent apart—you were his. And you knew it, too. The way his eyes darkened when you wore his clothes, that quiet possessiveness that was always just under the surface, was something you both understood without words.
You stepped out of the bedroom and crossed the room, feeling the warmth in his gaze follow you. When you got close enough, Dean reached out, his hand catching yours, gently tugging you toward him.
You obliged without hesitation, letting Dean pull you down onto his lap. His hands immediately settled on your hips, his grip firm but gentle, the warmth of his touch spreading through the thin fabric of the flannel. You could feel the solidness of him beneath you, the tension in his muscles slowly unraveling as you leaned into him.
Dean’s green eyes were locked on yours, dark and intense, filled with that familiar mix of desire and something deeper—something that told you just how much he had missed you, how much you meant to him. His thumb brushed lightly against your waist, tracing lazy circles over the flannel, his gaze never leaving yours.
“You have any idea what you do to me?”, he muttered, his voice low, rough, barely above a whisper. His hands tightened slightly on your hips as he pulled you just a little closer.
You bit your lip, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth as you shifted in his lap, the movement making him let out a low groan from deep in his chest. “Maybe”, you teased, your hands resting lightly on his shoulders. “But I like hearing you say it”.
Dean chuckled softly, though it was thick with that familiar edge of want. His hand slid up your back, pulling you flush against him, his lips grazing your neck as he spoke, his voice a soft rumble against your skin. “You’re driving me crazy”.
You shivered at the feel of his breath on your neck, your fingers tangling in the soft fabric of his shirt. “Good”, you whispered, leaning down to brush your lips against his in a teasing, feather-light kiss.
Dean’s grip tightened at your waist, and before you could pull away, he captured your lips with his, the kiss deepening instantly. It was full of everything that had been building between you—the weeks of being apart, the constant danger, the unspoken need for each other that seemed to intensify every time you were together. His hand slid up to the back of your neck, holding you close as his lips moved against yours, slow and intense, like he was savoring every second.
You melted into him, your body fitting perfectly against his, the familiar scent of leather, rain, and Dean filling your senses. His other hand roamed over your back, his touch both gentle and possessive, like he needed the physical reassurance that you were here, with him, right now.
When you finally pulled back, your breath coming in shallow bursts, you rested your forehead against his, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. His eyes were still dark, his chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath, but there was a softness in his expression now, a quiet intensity that made your heart skip a beat.
“You know I’m not going anywhere, right?”, you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. “You’re stuck with me”.
Dean’s eyes softened at your words, his hand brushing a stray strand of hair from your face as he smiled, that rare, genuine smile that he only ever gave you. “I’m counting on it”, he murmured, his voice rough but full of warmth.
You shifted slightly in his lap, and there was no mistaking the growing tension between you as you felt his arousal pressing against you, straining against his jeans. Heat pooled low in your belly, and you bit your lip, your mind already drifting toward the thought of pushing things further.
But then your eyes flicked down to his side, where you knew his injured rib was hidden beneath his shirt, still healing from the hunt. You could almost feel the dull ache he must’ve been pushing through, despite how well he masked it with his usual bravado.
Your fingers brushed lightly over his chest, just above where the injury sat, and you glanced up at him, concern softening the heat that had been building. “You think a little… fun is going to hurt too much?”, you murmured softly, your voice full of both tease and care, your gaze flicking back to the spot where his broken rib was.
Dean let out a soft, low chuckle, his hands still resting firmly on your hips as he shook his head slightly. “Trust me, sweetheart”, he said, his voice rough, but there was a playful gleam in his eyes. “It’ll hurt more if we don’t”. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth before trailing his lips along your jawline, his breath warm against your skin.
You let out a quiet sigh, your body instinctively responding to his touch, but still, you couldn’t help the slight worry that lingered in the back of your mind. You didn’t want to push him, not when he was still healing, even if he was far too stubborn to admit when he needed rest.
“Dean”, you whispered, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze, your fingers still lightly tracing over the spot where his rib was. “I don’t want to hurt you. You should be resting”.
Dean’s hand slid up to the back of your neck, his thumb brushing over your skin as he held your gaze, his expression softening just a little. “I’m fine”, he murmured, his voice quieter now, more sincere. “Yeah, it aches, but nothing I can’t handle”. He smirked then, a glint of mischief returning to his eyes as he pulled you closer. “Besides, there are worse ways to deal with pain”.
You couldn’t help but smile at that, your heart fluttering at the familiar mix of playfulness and affection in his words. But still, you gave him a look, making sure he knew you weren’t entirely convinced.
He sighed softly, his hand sliding down to your waist again, his touch warm and steady. “If it gets to be too much, I’ll stop”, he promised, his eyes serious now. “But right now… I want you”.
Those last words sent a shiver through you, and the heat that had been simmering between you flared back to life. You leaned in, pressing your lips to his in a slow, lingering kiss, your hands sliding up to cup his face as you deepened the kiss, pouring all your pent-up desire and affection into the moment.
Dean groaned softly against your lips, his hands tightening on your hips as he pulled you even closer, the tension between you palpable now.
You shifted back slightly, settling more comfortably on his thighs to give yourself enough room to work. The tension between you two was electric, and you could feel Dean’s gaze fixed on you, his eyes dark and filled with anticipation as you reached down to unbuckle his belt. The soft click of the metal filled the quiet room, followed by the slow, deliberate sound of his zipper being undone.
Dean’s breathing grew heavier, his chest rising and falling beneath you as you teased him, your fingers brushing lightly against the fabric of his jeans as you worked. His hands stayed on your hips, his grip tightening just slightly, as if he was barely holding himself back from taking control. But he let you set the pace, his patience a quiet reminder of how much he trusted you, how much he wanted you.
As you continued to ease his jeans and boxers down, Dean shifted his hips upward slightly, making it easier for you to pull the fabric down and free his hard length.
You took a moment to fully appreciate the sight of him, his arousal prominent and hard, the anticipation clear in the way his body tensed beneath you. You could feel the way his breathing grew more ragged, the muscles in his thighs tightening with the effort of holding himself in check.
You bit your lip, savoring the charged moment between you. With careful, deliberate movements, you took his length in your hand, feeling the heat and firmness of him. Dean’s breath hitched as you wrapped your fingers around him, his gaze locked on you, dark with desire.
As you shifted slightly, positioning yourself to align with him, Dean’s hands moved instinctively to guide you. His touch was gentle but firm, his fingers brushing aside the fabric of your underwear to help you line up perfectly.
You took a deep breath, your heart pounding as you carefully began to sink onto him. The sensation was intense, and even after being together for over three years, his size still took a moment to adjust to, and his reaction to your tightness was immediate. Dean’s breath caught in his throat, his grip on your hips tightening as he watched you with a mix of awe and desire.
“Damn, you’re tight”, he murmured, his voice rough with the effort of holding back. He tried to keep his tone light, teasing, but there was a clear edge of need in his words. “You trying to kill me here?”.
You smiled mischievously, a playful glint in your eye. “Maybe just trying to remind you of how good you’ve got it”, you teased, intentionally clenching around him with a slow, deliberate movement.
Dean’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment, a groan escaping his lips as he fought to maintain control. “Damn it”, he muttered, his voice barely more than a growl.
As you sank down completely, the full intensity of the connection took your breath away, every nerve alive with sensation. You steadied yourself by placing your hands on Dean's broad shoulders, the strength in them reassuring under your touch.
Dean's eyes opened again, locking onto yours with that fiery intensity that always managed to send shivers down your spine. "You sure you can handle this?", he teased, his voice a low rumble mixed with genuine concern for your comfort.
"I think the question is, can you handle it?", you retorted with a playful smirk, shifting slightly to adjust to the depth. The movement elicited a sharp inhale from Dean, his hands gripping your hips a little tighter.
You began to move, finding a steady pace, each movement synchronized to maximize the deep, intense connection. Dean watched you intently, his gaze never wavering, completely captivated by every expression that flickered across your face.
The room was filled with the sound of your synchronized breathing and the subtle shift of fabric as you moved together. Each of Dean's responses drove you further, his body reacting instinctively to yours, his touches and movements growing more confident and assertive.
"You feel amazing", Dean groaned, his head tipping back slightly as he absorbed every sensation. His words were laced with both pleasure and a bit of awe, as if even after years, the depth of your intimacy could still surprise him.
You leaned down, your lips brushing against his ear, whispering softly, "Just keep up with me". The challenge was gentle but clear, and you could feel Dean's resolve firming. He shifted his grip, finding a new angle that drew a deep moan from your lips, clearly pleased with your reaction.
The pace quickened naturally, driven by mutual need and the profound connection you shared. Dean's hands explored your back, tracing lines of fire with every touch, his fingers pressing into your skin in encouragement and desire.
The world outside faded completely, leaving only the two of you lost in the rhythm and rush of overwhelming sensation. Every movement, every touch, was a reaffirmation of the deep, enduring bond between you, pushing each other towards a peak that was both intense and incredibly intimate.
As Dean hit all the right spots, the pleasure built rapidly within you. Each movement seemed to push you closer to the edge, the intensity of the moment overwhelming. Your moans grew louder, each sound a testament to how well he knew your body and how perfectly he fit inside you.
“Dean”, you gasped, your voice strained with pleasure as your back arched, your head falling back. The sensation of him inside you was electrifying, the friction and depth making it impossible to hold back. You clenched around him, the tightness pushing him closer to his own release.
Dean responded with a low, guttural groan, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he felt you tighten around him. His own pleasure built rapidly, his breaths coming in sharp, uneven bursts. The way you were moving, the way you were squeezing him, was almost too much to handle.
The pressure within you reached a peak, and with a final, intense clench, you felt the waves of your climax crashing over you. Your body trembled, your moans a mix of ecstasy and relief as you finally let go, the pleasure overwhelming.
The sensation of your climax triggered Dean’s release as well. He let out a throaty groan, his body tensing as he came, the force of it pushing him into a shuddering, intense orgasm.
But as Dean’s body tensed with the force of his release, he let out a strained gasp, a sharp pain flaring in his injured rib. The sudden jolt of discomfort cut through the haze of pleasure, causing him to stiffen and wince.
“Shit”, he muttered, his voice tight with both pleasure and pain. He tried to mask it, but the strain was evident in the way he clenched his jaw and the slight grimace that crossed his face.
You immediately noticed the shift, your pleasure quickly giving way to concern. You could feel his discomfort and moved carefully, your hands reaching up to cradle his face. “You´re okay?”, you asked, your voice soft with worry. “Does it hurt?”.
He took a moment to catch his breath, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of lingering desire and discomfort. “Just a little”, he admitted, trying to brush off the pain. “Didn’t expect it to flare up like that, though”.
“Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea”, you mumbled softly, your voice filled with concern as you carefully shifted off of him, moving slowly to avoid causing him any more discomfort. Dean let out a small, half-hearted chuckle, his hand brushing over his rib as he tried to steady his breathing.
“Yeah, probably should’ve taken it easy”, he admitted, his voice still rough but laced with a bit of humor. He gave you a reassuring look, but you could see the lingering tension in his eyes.
As you sat up, you quickly pulled your panties back into place, trying to prevent the inevitable mess of your combined release. You caught Dean watching you with a faint smirk, despite the pain, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him.
“You’re still smirking even when you’re in pain?”, you teased lightly, reaching for a nearby throw blanket to cover him up. “You really are something else, Winchester”.
Dean shrugged, wincing slightly at the motion. “What can I say? You have that effect on me”.
While Dean carefully tugged himself back into his jeans, you slipped off to the bathroom, moving quickly to clean yourself up. As you splashed water on your face, you glanced at your reflection in the mirror, your thoughts racing. Despite his humor, the tension in Dean’s expression had been clear—his rib was still bothering him more than he was letting on.
By the time you returned, Dean was sprawled back on the couch, the blanket draped loosely over him. His eyes were half-lidded, the weariness from both the hunt and the earlier moment of intensity catching up to him. You stood in the doorway for a moment, biting your lip as you took him in.
"Maybe we should stay in", you suggested softly, stepping toward him. "Forget the party".
Dean looked up at you, his expression softening as he registered your words. He gave a slight shake of his head, attempting to brush it off, but you could see the exhaustion creeping up on him. "I’m fine", he muttered, trying to sit up a little straighter. "I can handle it".
You crossed the room and sat down next to him, gently placing a hand on his arm. "Dean, you’re not fooling anyone", you said softly, your tone filled with concern. "You need to rest. That rib isn’t going to heal if you keep pushing yourself".
Dean sighed, running a hand through his hair. He knew you were right, but the stubbornness in him didn’t want to admit it. "I just didn’t want to ruin your plans", he admitted quietly, glancing up at you. "You were excited about the party".
You smiled gently, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. "The party doesn’t matter", you whispered against his skin. "What matters is you. I’d rather spend the night here with you, making sure you’re okay".
Dean’s eyes softened at that, the fight leaving him as he finally relaxed against the couch. "You really don’t mind?", he asked, his voice quieter now, more vulnerable.
You shook your head, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. "Not at all", you replied, your voice filled with warmth. "Besides, staying in with you sounds a lot better than any party".
Dean smiled, the tension in his body easing as he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. "Alright", he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. "I guess we’re staying in, then".
You snuggled into his side, the warmth of his body and the steady rhythm of his breathing calming your own racing heart. The rain outside continued to fall in a soft, soothing patter, and in the quiet comfort of the moment, you both knew you had made the right choice.
Tonight would be just for the two of you, no parties, no distractions—just the peace of being together.
———————————
A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 
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antiquarianfics · 1 year ago
Text
Marry me? Nah. Marry me? Yeah.
4 times Bucky Barnes asks you to marry him and you refuse. 1 time Bucky Barnes asks you to marry him and you accept.
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A/N: I have been working on this for the last day, so enjoy. HOWEVER, I wrote it on my phone and refuse to proof it. Warning(s): Some canon level violence, swearing. Note: I do not own Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters.
You do not have permission to steal or repost my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and reblog.
Proposal 1
The first time Bucky Barnes proposes to you, you aren’t even dating. The two of you are paired on a mission to dismantle a HYDRA base hidden deep in the Appalachian Mountains in Kentucky. You had met before but never shared more than polite conversation. Steve had assured Bucky you weren’t scared of him, but that you wouldn’t push him to speak with you. Bucky never quite believed him, so he never attempted to converse with you either.
However, when you’re paired on this mission, you take that as the go-ahead to finally speak to him.
“So, Barnes,” you say, nudging his shoulder with your own, “guess we’ve got to come up with more conversation topics than the weather.”
“Guess so,” he replies.
It is during the mission he proposes. There are more HYDRA agents active than expected, and they come at the two of you guns blazing while you’re distracted setting up an explosive at a structural point of the complex.
“Y/L/N,” Bucky says to grab your attention, “we’ve got company.”
You bite your lip, finishing your task before standing and pulling your rifle from your back, preparing yourself for a fight.
“Don’t worry, honey, I’ve got this one,” you tease, shooting him a wink before unleashing precise kill shots before Bucky even thinks to pull his own trigger. After taking out a dozen soldiers, a few manage to get close to you, and you hit one in the head with the butt of your gun and then quickly pull a knife from a thigh holster while pivoting on your foot to slit another’s throat. You shoot the unconscious soldier in the head for good measure before wiping your knife on your pants.
With your knife returned to its home on your thigh, you look up at Bucky who is staring at you with a dumbfounded, albeit impressed, look on his face. You had taken out 14 men on your own. He was in love.
The words “marry me” slipped past his lips before he could stop them, and you laugh.
“Maybe buy me dinner first, Sarge.”
Proposal 2
The second time Bucky Barnes proposes to you, you’re comforting him after a nightmare. It is late at night, at the point it was really morning, and you happen to hear his screams through his bedroom door.
You stop at his door, letting a frown set on your face before reaching out for his doorknob. You hesitate before opening it, wondering if he’ll appreciate you barging in on him in such a vulnerable state. Then, he screams again—louder—and you turn the doorknob, letting yourself in.
The sight you’re met with is heartbreaking. Bucky is tossing and turning, his sheets bunched at his feet, comforter on the ground. He’s sweating buckets and whimpering what sounds like, “Please, no. Not the chair. Please!” over and over again. You choke back a sob before crossing over to him, gently lying a comforting hand on his shoulder and calling out his name.
“Bucky, honey, wake up. It’s just a dream, hun.”
The touch and sudden sound wake him up from what is truly a light sleep. Bucky shoots up into a sitting position, right hand shooting out to grab the hand touching him, and eyes darting around the room until they land on you.
“Shh,” you coo, “you’re okay, Bucky. It’s me, Y/N. It was just a dream. You’re safe.”
Bucky’s heart rate slows to a normal pace, and he lets out a shaky breath.
“Y/N?” He asks hesitantly. “W-what are you doing here?” His voice is small, like a terrified child’s, and you can’t help but frown at the thought.
You let your hand move to cup his face, noting that he relaxes at the gentle touch, leaning his face ever so slightly into your touch.
“I was headed to the kitchen and I heard you scream. I just wanted to make sure you’re alright.”
He nods, eyes searching yours for some sort of anger or resentment for bothering you. He doesn’t find any.
“Can I do anything to make you feel better?” You ask kindly.
“Um,” Bucky says, voice shaky. “Would you mind—you don’t have to—but would you mind staying with me? Only if you want.”
You smile kindly, pressing a comforting kiss to his cheek before climbing into his bed with him, pulling his head close to your chest.
“When I was little, I lived in a house in the woods for a while,” you say randomly, catching Bucky’s attention. His eyebrows scrunch together in some sort of confusion, but he says nothing. “At dinner one night, I look out the glass door onto the porch. Wanna know what I saw?”
Bucky hums his agreement as your hand works it’s way into his hair and your fingers begin to massage his scalp.
“4 raccoons!” You exclaim. “3 babies and a mama. We had a toddler slide on the porch at the time,” you continue, “and the baby raccoons kept climbing the little ladder and sliding down. The mama just sat a little bit away and watched and stole cat food occasionally.”
Bucky chuckles, finding your story cute but also recognizing your attempt to distract and soothe him after his nightmare. He appreciates it more than he himself understands; he is comforted by your voice more than he feels he should be. He lets the proposal slip a second time: “Marry me?”
You grin and press a kiss to his head.
“Not yet, hun.”
Proposal 3
The third proposal comes after the two of you begin dating.
Bucky takes you out on a date to a little coffee shop in Brooklyn you both had become fond of. You’re standing to the side of the café, out of the way, waiting on your order. Bucky has his right arm around your shoulders while you lean into him; his left hand stuck in his jacket pocket.
“So Natasha’s screaming at Clint to show himself so that she can kill him, right? Like, she was so fucking pissed at him. And Clint is in the fucking air vents—like those big ones people crawl through in action movies—hiding from her. Over a remote, Bucky!” You excitedly recount one of the most ridiculous encounters you’ve ever had with the Avengers to your boyfriend who is quietly listening with a fond smile.
“Like, ‘Earth’s Mightiest Heroes’ my ass,” you scoff. You’re about to add another thought to the discussion when you hear someone else’s conversation from a few feet away.
Bucky tenses. You tense.
“Personally, I think they should’ve carted him off to the South, or somethin’, and put him in the chair,” a younger man—college age—says. “The death penalty, y’know? An eye for an eye, and all that. I mean, the guy killed a lot of people.”
“Fuck, man,” his companion, another college aged man, says. “Don’t you think that’s a little harsh? I mean, he’s also like a war hero and a prisoner of war.”
“He killed innocent people, man. Like, people’s kids and shit.”
“I guess.”
Bucky clenches his jaw, and he also tightens his grip on your waist when he feels you start to move away from him.
“It’s fine, doll,” he assures you, but he doesn’t seem fine to you.
The barista calls out “Barnes” and Bucky kisses the top of your head before moving to grab your drinks. You, however, take the opportunity to address the disrespectful boys while your boyfriend isn’t holding you back.
“Excuse me,” you say, walking up to them.
“Fuck!” One says, jumping a little. “You’re an Avenger.”
“Mhmm,” you agree. “So is Sergeant Barnes who you so innocently suggested deserves the chair.” You jam a finger into his chest.
“You have absolutely no fucking right to talk about him that way. He gave his life for this fucking country; fought alongside your grandparents. The fuck is wrong with you?”
“Ma’am, I’m sorry. Shit. It’s not like my opinion is gonna change anything.”
Before you can say anything else, you feel Bucky’s hand wrap around your bicep, pulling you away from the college kids and into his side. He leans close to your ear to whisper, “Doll, it’s fine. Come on.”
He pulls you out of the coffee shop before you have time to protest.
Walking down the street, you’re ranting, letting your arms flail around angrily.
“What the actual fuck is their problem?! You can have your obviously wrong opinions, but why would you express them so loudly in front of the person you’re talking about? You’re a fucking Avenger. You’re a good man. Why would they pardon you if you weren’t? Why would the Avengers adopt you as one of our own if you weren’t? Pieces of shit! Hateful, fascist, brain dead, ungrateful, military-hating, assholes!”
Bucky can’t help but laugh at your insults, and he can’t help but feel flattered that you care enough to defend him.
“Sweetheart, it’s really fine. I’m used to it,” he assures you, finally handing you your coffee he’d been balancing in his hand.
You take it, but shoot him an incredulous look.
“Like hell it’s okay! You deserve better than that bullshit, Bucky. You deserve to go out on a date with your girlfriend without being fucking harassed.”
Bucky pulls you into his side, kissing your head like he had earlier, and murmurs into your hair his third proposal.
“Marry me.”
You smile softly.
“Nah,” you say, leaning into his hold. He laughs.
Proposal 4
The fourth time Bucky proposes to you, it’s less direct.
In fact, you’re in the field, lying on your back in Bucky’s arms while he frantically puts pressure on a bullet wound in your gut.
“Steve,” he says into the coms, “Y/N’s down. She got shot. I’ve got to get her back to the jet.”
“Go,” Steve responds quickly, “I’ll cover you.”
Bucky’s attention falls to you, grimacing at the blood covering his hands.
“Hold on, baby. I’ve got you,” he says, lifting you into his arms as gently as you can.
“I’m fiiinnneee,” you slur, unsteadily and awkwardly reaching to pat his face. Your action, meant to be comforting, only adds to your boyfriend’s anxiety.
“Doll, you’ve been shot, and it isn’t a clean wound.”
“That’s nothin’!”
Bucky grunts indignantly in response.
Finally, he gets you back to the jet, moving through the aircraft quickly to get you to a stretcher to triage you best he can. When there is nothing more he can do, he holds your hand, doing his best not to cry or show how scared he is.
“Y/N, stay awake for me, alright?” He pleads, squeezing your hand.
Your eyes flutter open and you smile goofily.
“No worries, Doll,” you giggle as you call him by the pet name he reserves for you. “I’m A-Okay.”
Bucky scoffs.
“You’re bleeding out.”
“You fixed me.”
“Not fully; I put a bandaid on you really.”
“Silly. Bandaids fix you!” You try to comfort, but you fall into a laughing fit.
“Doll, I need you to take this seriously so you make it. You’ve gotta marry me.”
“You didn’t ask me to!” You say, narrowing your eyes and pointing accusingly.
Bucky smiles at your antics.
“Marry me, Doll?”
You smile fondly as you stare up at Bucky.
“Ask me again when I’m not bleeding out.”
Proposal 5
The fifth time Bucky Barnes proposes to you is the last time.
You convince the super soldier to go hiking with you; you argue he deserves to sit and watch a waterfall with his girlfriend. He gives in easily because you’re not easy for him to say no to.
The two of you find a local hiking trail that leads to a decent sized waterfall, and you’re pleased to find the trail is mostly deserted. You only run into a few stray hikers along the trail.
Bucky smiles as you hike, watching as you excitedly stop to watch centipedes cross the path, or point out woodpeckers, or smell flowers. Finally, the two of you reach the waterfall and you squeal in excitement, running a few paces ahead of Bucky and jumping to let out some excited energy.
“Buck, look! It’s gorgeous!”
“Yeah,” Bucky agrees, slowing to a stop behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin in the crook of your neck.
The two of you stand like that, in each other’s embrace, for a few minutes, watching the waterfall, listening to nature around you.
“Thank you for coming up here with with me,” you say, turning around to place a grateful kiss on Bucky’s lips. He gently returns the kiss before pulling away.
“Anything for you, sweetheart.”
You peck his lips again before turning back to the waterfall.
“Look!” You say upon turning around. “Bucky, a rainbow!” The spray of the water and the beams of sunlight meet to display a rainbow in front of you.
When Bucky doesn’t respond, you curiously turn around.
“Bucky? Oh!”
Bucky is on one knee, a ring box open in his hands, held out to you.
“Y/N, will you marry me?”
There is no speech, there is no absurd gesture. There is just Bucky, and there is just a question.
It’s perfect.
“Yes.”
“Finally.”
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marilynthornhilllover · 2 months ago
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Can you please write rough smut for grey hair Emily Prentiss that’s just… total shameless filth😭 like choking, breeding kinks, semi public sex (in her office)
I could eat that girl for lunch
Emily prentiss x Fem!reader
Warning: smut 18+, breeding kink, semi public sex, breast kink, spitting kink, choking kink, praise kink, mommy kink, one slap, slight cunniligus, fingering, slight strap fucking, etc.
A/N: oh I lost it with this one🤭enjoy sorry it took so long 😭
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You knew it was wrong to think of your boss Emily in such a way.... but God damn it. You just couldn't control yourself anymore. I mean come on she's the Emily prentiss, Unit Chief of the BAU, who wouldn't be obsessed with her, sorry in love with her. She was insufferable, almost irresistible like a drug. The way she would bite her lips when ever she laughed or was focused on something very important.
Or The way she held her hands in her pockets and stood against door frames or leaned against desks. The way her hips would sway whenever she struts down the hallway towards her office and finally, the way she looks at you. The way this woman would look at you was everything. Her eyes, they were always glued to you when you were busy doing your work. She thought you didn’t notice her but gaze detection is a real thing that works.
Emily would stare at you as if she wanted to devour you. And it always made you weak. It made your skin get heated and your mind go dizzy. You couldn’t focus when her eyes were on you, it was as if every cell in you wanted to explde. The time you wore a strapless shirt to work because it was too hot out, and for the entire day she couldn't find the decency to stop her eyes from roaming over your collarbone and shoulders, and the other time you wore a mini skirt and a top that had a zip in the middle that was pulled down just enough to see your cleavage. She went nuts.
Emily knew of your angel face, but she didn’t let that fool her. She knew you had dirty thoughts of her, you even went as far as making a dirty jokes about her. One time she overheard Jennifer asking you if you were to fuck anyone in the office who would you fuck and you had chosen 'Emily'.
You always had a thing for older women, and everyone in the office knew, so maybe it’s obvious that you had quite a massive crush on your boss as well. You heard rumors of Emily being “ talented” with her tongue and “skilled” with her fingers. You did have the privilege to meet one of Emily’s ex-girlfriends at a seasonal greeting event, and by her words “ Emily almost took her out of the world”.
You did try to do your work as best as possible and tried your very hardest to keep out of her way. And for some time it had seemed to work. Emily caught onto the drift and sensed that you were giving her the cold shoulder and the both of you stuck to strictly business and work professional procedures and encounters. But none of this stopped Emily from winking at you from time to time and even going as far as moving you aside by your waist using her hands when you were both in the kitchen getting lunch at the office.
Her hands in your waist sent electric shocks throughout your body, and each time she gave you a sly smirk. You did try to ignore her most of the time. And for a while it lasted.
So tonight you don’t know what possessed you to sneak into Emily’s office. There was a big case that was on the table and it required all hands on deck. You had decided to stay back and help Emily crack some codes but after half an hour in she left. It was pretty late, around 10:38 PM and you were exhausted. Your eyes flicked up to inspect your surroundings because sometimes people break into police departments to steal evidence.
That’s when you saw her that her office light was on and had decided to go turn it off and then after you would finish pack up and then leave . It wasn’t the first time being in her office, but it was the first time alone, by yourself….. with just her stuff. Her jacket was thrown on the back of her chair and a couple of her personal belongings sprawled out on her desk. You had already checked for cameras and any audio devices, there were none. So you took off your pants and panties, shirt and bra leaving yourself completely naked in your boss office.
Absolutely downright crazy, bat shit crazy. You sit in her chair and gently began fingering yourself at a slow pace, but quickly increased it as you became more desperate and needy. Your eyes were tightly shut closed, as your hand worked it’s magic down between your legs. All that can be heard was the wet sounds your cunt was making when you thrusted your fingers in your pussy, your weak hoasty moans and your loud and elaborate breathing as you neared your peak.
Your orgasm washed over you almost knocking you out of the chair and onto the floor causing you to topple over yourself . Your eyes hastily as you swallowed thickly and bit your lips.
“ well” a voice says, half disappointed half surprised. Your eyes snap up towards the entrance of the office to see Emily standing there. Her expression was unreadable. You felt all the blood drain from your face as your entire body freezes with both fear and shame. Emily smirked at you before she took a step into the room, closing and locking the door behind her ( you forgot to close the door?!) . She took slow strides towards the table as she pushed her hands into her pocket.
“ you know I really thought you were just a shy little good girl who knew her worth and knew how to ask for things…. But I guess I was totally wrong wasn’t I?” She asked, carefully walking around the desk, she stopped and stood in a position where she was pressing all her weight on one foot as she titled her head, inspecting you. She chuckled silently and further approached you.
“ could have fooled me babe” she says plainly, she then grabs you by your jaw and forces your face upwards to look at her. Still you remain frozen. A part of you couldn’t believe you had gotten into this situation and another part wanted to curl up into a ball and completely disappear for all eternity, never to be seen again.
“ look at you, I stood there for over 20 minutes, all in which you did nothing but fuck yourself senseless to the thought of me, don’t you see it now y/n your my slut” she says, purring the last two words, that may have reheated something in you because you need her all over again.
“ uh oh, what’s wrong? Cat got your tongue? Or did you lose your voice after screaming my name so loud? Oh Emily , fuck yes Emily, fuck me Emily” she mocked you and that’s when a realization of being naked hits you. You were completely bare before this woman. In her own office. Such a shame.
Emily’s eyebrow quirked in amusement as she looked at you shy away from her and look everywhere but into her dark eyes. She took the opportunity to look at your body intensely. With a silent hum her eyes wondered down your chest, stoping to look at your breast and how perked your nipples were. She then moved further down your body and her eyes landed on your vagina, from the way you were sitting she couldn’t see much but just the thought of fucking it got her going.
In one swift moment Emily grabbed you by your waist and tossed you onto the desk. You whined at the sudden action and prompted yourself up onto your elbows to remove some objects from behind of your back before you proceeded to lay down. Your legs opened up involuntarily which caused Emily to smirk as she stood between them causing them to spread even wider. Regardless of your previous orgasm you were already so desperate for this woman’s touch.
Emily took off her jacket and soon everything else went with it. She was bare in just her pants alone. You wanted her to remove it but you were too mesmerized by her stern breast to give a shit. Her pants were high waisted but allowed you to see her toned abs a little. God you wanted her so badly. Your shaking hands made their way up to her skin and you gently placed your hand on her abs admiring them, god she must work out real good. For a moment you thought that you were lost in heaven until you felt her remove your hand.
“Getting touchy now are we? That’s slutty behavior” she laughed, she loved teasing you and seeing you squirm beneath her. This wasn’t the first time Emily had you under this choke hold. There were many other times where she was able to get under you skin….. but those are stories for another time. She leaned down and hovered her lips over your mouth, contemplating if she should give into you or let you go crazy over her some more. Even though Emily could see the pleading look in your eyes she knew better than to give the devil what she wanted.
Emily chuckled as she removed a strand of hair from your already sweaty forehead to behind your ear. Her hand stayed there, behind your neck, for a while her grasp tightening every few seconds which caused you to release a quiet moan from your throat. Emily looked down at you in deep thought before her eyes flicked down to your lips. Her thump caressed your jaw for a little while before she spoke.
“ open your mouth” her request definitely caught you off guard but the way she said it made your thighs clench but you remember that she was laying between them, making it hard to do so. You looked up at her confused as your breathing got shallow. You gulped and did as she asked. For a while she did nothing but then she opened her mouth and slowly poured her saliva into your mouth.
You were a little disgusted because back in high school you were always the one to say that you’d never allow anyone to do this to you but things have changed, it’s Emily fucking prentiss. Sorry. It’s mommy. And something about this just turned you on more because you could feel the slick that was pooling between your thighs from your pussy. Emily stopped and watched you close your mouth. She gave you a look and you knew what she was asking without words. You swallowed. She then started kissing you. It was rough but slow at the same time, she made you feel as though you had all the time in the world.
She broke the kiss before you even had a chance to deepen it as she moved down to your breast. She left pecks all across your chest, small sucks and bites that will most definitely leave marks later on, not that you care. She continued her assault until she moved down to your nipple. She swirled her tongue around the small bud first before she looked up at you with mischievous eyes before then enveloped the entire bud into her mouth. Your head fell back and you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to just feel. She abused the small bud by gently biting it and sucking on it like a baby enjoying your moans.
Her hand fondled with the other neglected breast as the other made it’s s way down to your pussy, Emily knew you weren’t paying attention to her works so without notice she carefully pulled your lace pink panties to the side and inserted two fingers at the same time without warning. Your back arched as your eyes rolled back. Your hands immediately flew to the edge of the table for support. Emily smirked and released your nipple with a ‘ pop ’ sound as saliva made a bridge from her mouth to the bud to which she broke by licking her lips.
“ that’s it baby, just like that? You like when mommy gives you what you want without you having to ask her?” You couldn’t even respond to her, your mind was clouded with her insufferable praises, perfume and god did her fingers do a number on you. Everytime her digits slid out of you and back in her lips twitched. The sound of your cunt squelching against her fingers and your petty moans and grunts as your body began to spams made Emily want to do more despicable things to you until you couldn’t walk.
“ fuck so good, this is squeezing my fingers so fucking good baby, I wish I had a fucking real cock to split you open with, get you pregnant with my babies, you’d like that huh?” She whispered, increasing her pace as she curled her fingers deeper into you cunt, touching your g-spot every few seconds as she buried her fingers knuckle deep into you. You could feel your skin heat up as a familiar feeling of pleasure built up within your lower abdomen. Your hips bucked up towards every thrust of her fingers as your hand grabbed her wrist to slow her actions, you wanted to last longer to prove to her that you weren’t just some cum hungry slut. But that would be pointless because you are just a cum hungry slut.
But with her praises and her fingers moving at the speed of light it was truly impossible. You tried to pull it off a little longer but you couldn’t.
“ I feel you clenching me so tight baby, let it go for mommy, I wanna feel you drench my fingers so bad baby” she purred in your ear, her breath hot against your skin, and with that sentence you came for her. You eyes rolled back and you could feel your juices pouring out of you and onto her fingers. Emily kept fucking you drawling out every whimper, twitch and cry that you had to give. You were completely dumbstruck and spiraling.
You felt as she withdrew herself from between your legs as the sound of her jeans being removed. You stayed there trying to catch your breath. You looked down to Emily and that’s when you see her pulling off her pants completely, a strap around her waist. It was a clear light purple with small glitter pieces in it and it was huge. Without even realizing you tried to back away from her but Emily was two steps ahead, catching onto what your intentions were she pulled you back down by your ankles and forced your legs apart.
Emily placed her hands under your knees and pushed them up above your chest. You’ve never seen any strap that big or long and you anticipated how well she’d fuck you with it for your first time. It was as if you became a virgin again.
“ why are you running now darling? You wanted mommy to fuck you so badly when you were in here all by yourself. Your gonna take it like a good girl now” her tone was so dark and seductive it made your skin crawl and your insides burn with desire.
She pinned your hands above your head and slowly sank the tip of her cock into you forcing a moan out of you. Your eyes slammed shut as you tried to focus on the stretch, the way she made the pain and the pleasure mix so good. She let loose of your hands and gently started choking you. The deeper she buried herself within you the more your eyes would roll back and your legs would quiver. You desperate pleas of moans and cries filled the room as Emily started thrusting into you with full force. Deep and fast the tip bruising your sweet spot every time.
Emily angled her hips ever so slightly, just enough to push her cock up against your cervix. Gently at first, but when she heard the mewl that escaped your mouth at her action and the way your body convulsed it became rougher each time. You trembled as she kept thrusting into you.
“ oh— oh GOD— Emily please, fuck I can’t TAKE IT ANYMORE” you cried but it fell on death ears. You tried to close your thighs to eliminate how well her cock drives into you but Emily’s grip on your neck made you mind mush. Continuing your attempt you tried to move away from her but that resulted in you getting a hard smack across your face as she choked you much rougher. Her nails digged into the flesh out your waist as she started pounding your pussy brutally whispering insults that you couldn’t quite hear due to your moans and the sound of her thighs connecting with your slick.
“ fuck that’s it, right there? Mhm? Right fucking there” she cooed as she pushed your legs further apart and circled her hips as she made her thrust more curved. Your body began to tremble and Emily chuckled as she looked down at the white circle ring around her cock. She felt as your body tensed up and you let out a pornographic moan of her name. She kept thrusting after you came until you whined and pushed her away with a hand on her abs. She pulled out and kneeled down eye level with your cunt.
She cleaned up the mess with her tongue. Cautiously sucking and pulling at your clit until you pushed her head away. She smiled at her work and at herself and looked up at you. Your chest raised and fall with every breath you took and your thighs were still shivering. She leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before whispering.
“ round two? We’ve got all night and I’m sure i recall you saying your flexible….”
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reiderwriter · 10 months ago
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If your requests are open could I get a fic where Spencer lost his virginity to bau!reader the night before and when he comes into work the next day Morgan is like ‘you look different’ (you know that stereotype that people you know well can tell when you lose your virginity) and bau!reader is like yeah you do why is that Spencer🤨 lmaoo
A/N: This was a really fun request to write! Nice, short and sweet! I hope you enjoy it~♡
Warnings: implied sexual encounter, some suggestive talk, mentions of virginity.
Masterlist || Song Fic Challenge
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“Wait, kid, hold up, something’s different. You get a haircut or what?” 
You tried your best not to giggle profusely as the blush crept up Spencer’s neck to sit prettily across his cheeks. It had only been an hour since you'd left him sleeping soundly in your bed after a night of well… ravaging him. 
Spencer Reid, your beautiful, awkward, nerdy, and charming coworker was no longer a virgin. Nor was he single. And surprisingly, he wasn't all that bad at sex either, a little cautious, but for all intents and purposes, quite the natural. 
He certainly hadn't turned into a sex god over night, but you did plan to accost him rather regularly from that point onwards, so you very much were enjoying the abject look of horror passing over his features at that moment. 
“I was running late this morning. My alarm didn't go off.” 
You stifled a giggle, knowing that his alarm probably had gone off. He'd just been in a completely different apartment and hadn't heard it. Maybe it was still going off now. 
When his eye caught yours, he froze still in a flush. It was impossible not to run tour gaze along the length of his body, showing him enough quiet appreciation you thought he'd drop to his knees. 
Instead, his hands that were wrestling with his tie fidgeted more, finding it impossible to tie the damn thing like he had every morning for the last five years. 
“Having some trouble, Spencer? Maybe I could help you out?” You winked at him to punctuate your question, and all he could do was stand and gulp down a breath, nodding in agreement. 
“You do look pretty tired, kid? Long night?” Derek asked, a quiet bemused look hanging on his face. He'd had this same conversation with Reid at least four times in the last year, assuming that every time he came in looking slightly dishevelled, he'd enjoyed a night of pleasure. 
It had certainly been pleasing to you, and you were absolutely going to help teasing Reid if you got the chance. You certainly enjoyed doing just that last night. 
Grabbing the two ends of his tie and pulling him a step closer to Reid - maybe a bit too close for two people in their place of work - you began righting all of his clothes. 
“You didn't wake me up,” he whispered with a pout into your ear, his pout audible even as he tried to keep his face neutral. 
“I tried,” you whispered back. “But every time I got close, you lunged for me in your sleep and started grinding your morning wood into my ass.” 
The flush that you enjoyed so much was now a fully glowing face. He was so red you expected steam to pour from his ears any minute. 
You finish knotting his tie and brush his shirt a little, just as Derek clears his throat again. 
“Kid, did you hear me? I asked if you had a long night.” 
Spencer's gaze didn't leave yours, though. Even in his embarrassment, he was so intently focused on you that it nearly set your entire body on edge. 
“Yeah, you could say that,” he replied, his gaze dropping to your lips. You wished they hadn't, because now you had to stop yourself from jumping him right there in the bull pen. 
“Oh shit,” Derek couldn't hold back the laugh that bubbled up in his chest as he stood looking from you to Spencer and then back to you. 
“Oh shit. Spencer, I didn't know you had game like that.” His words were wheezed out between fits of laughter, and you were irritated when the focus in Spencer's gaze shattered, settling into a look of discontent. 
“Derek, come on…” he groaned, and you put your hand gently on his chest to get him to look at you again. 
“Next time, I'll work my hardest to wake you up, Spencer.” 
With his jaw hanging open in shock, you pushed up onto your toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek, leaving him stood like a statue as Derek bent over in laughter, trying to catch his breath. 
You smiled in your final triumph just as Emily walked over to greet the two men and opened with a question. 
“Weren't you wearing that outfit yesterday, Reid?”  
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its-avalon-08 · 3 months ago
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laughed it off (dr3)
✦ summary - y/n overhears danny's friends being mean about her and danny just laughs along.
✦ pairing - daniel ricciardo x female!reader
✦ genre - angst, tears, fluffy ending
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The sun was shining brightly as Daniel Ricciardo and his girlfriend, Y/N, enjoyed a perfect day on a luxurious yacht with a few of Daniel's close friends. The group was lively, laughter echoing across the deck as the boat sailed smoothly through the sparkling blue water.
Y/N, as usual, was at the center of the energy, cracking jokes, dancing to the music, and playfully splashing water at Daniel. Her infectious spirit matched Daniel's own perfectly—they were a dynamic duo, known for their shared enthusiasm and zest for life.
“C’mon, Danny, let’s see those dance moves!” Y/N teased, tugging at his hand to pull him onto the makeshift dance floor at the back of the yacht.
Daniel laughed, letting himself be pulled along. “You sure you’re ready to be out-danced by an Aussie, babe?” he teased back.
“Oh, please! I’ve seen you dance, remember?” Y/N winked at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
As they danced, one of Daniel’s friends, a guy Y/N hadn’t met until today, leaned over to the others and whispered something. Y/N couldn’t quite hear, but she noticed Daniel glance in their direction, his usual wide grin dimming slightly.
Feeling a bit parched, Y/N decided to grab a drink and headed toward the small bar set up near the front of the yacht. As she reached for a glass, she overheard a snippet of the conversation Daniel’s friends were having behind her, not realizing she was within earshot.
"Man, she's exhausting, isn't she?" one of them muttered, just loud enough for Y/N to hear. "Can she ever sit still? I don't know how you put up with it, Dan."
Another friend chuckled, adding, "Yeah, it's like she's always on a sugar rush or something. Must be draining to be around that all the time."
Y/N froze, her hand gripping the glass tightly as her heart plummeted. She felt like someone had just punched her in the gut. They were talking about her. Her, the girl who had thought she was fitting in perfectly with Daniel's friends, being the life of the party. But now, all she could feel was a wave of humiliation crashing over her.
She glanced over at Daniel, hoping—praying—he would say something, defend her, tell them they were wrong. But instead, she saw him chuckle softly, looking a bit awkward but not saying anything to counter their remarks.
It was as if the ground had slipped out from beneath her. Her mind raced, trying to process what she had just heard and what it meant. Did Daniel really feel the same way? Was she too much? Was her energy that overwhelming?
She quickly composed herself, forcing a smile as she approached the group. Daniel noticed her coming and smiled at her, his eyes full of the usual warmth that always made her feel safe. But now, that warmth felt like a burning sting, a reminder of the words she had just overheard.
“Hey, babe,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady, “I think I might need to sit this one out. I’m feeling a little queasy… Must be the sun.”
Daniel’s smile faltered with concern. “You okay, love? Do you need anything?”
“No, no, I’ll be fine,” she assured him quickly, avoiding his gaze. “Just need to lie down for a bit.”
Without waiting for a response, she turned and made her way to the lower deck, her heart heavy with a sadness she hadn’t felt in a long time.
time skip
Y/N couldn’t get off the yacht fast enough. She managed to keep a neutral expression during the ride home, but the moment she walked through the front door of their apartment, her carefully held composure began to crumble.
Maybe I am too much… Maybe I should tone it down… The thoughts whirled in her mind as she numbly kicked off her shoes and headed to the bedroom. Normally, she would have felt a twinge of guilt for leaving a gathering so abruptly, but all she felt now was a deep ache in her chest. She pulled out her laptop, trying to lose herself in work, anything to distract her from the sinking feeling in her heart.
The hours ticked by slowly, and before long, she heard the familiar sound of the front door opening. Daniel was home. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the encounter.
“Y/N, I’m back!” Daniel’s voice was full of its usual cheer as he walked into the bedroom, expecting to see her bounding over to him with one of her trademark hugs and kisses. But instead, he found her sitting up in bed, her laptop on her lap, staring intently at the screen.
She glanced up at him and gave a small, forced smile. “Hey,” she said softly before returning her attention to the screen. “Just finishing up some work stuff.”
Daniel frowned, his heart sinking a little. That’s… different. Usually, Y/N would leap up and throw her arms around him, peppering his face with kisses and asking him about his day with an enthusiasm that always lifted his spirits. But tonight, there was none of that. Just a quick smile and back to work.
“You okay?” he asked, trying to sound casual as he approached the bed.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she replied, her voice too calm, too controlled. “Just a bit tired.”
Daniel studied her for a moment, noticing how she avoided eye contact. Something’s off. But he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. She wasn’t usually this distant.
“Alright,” he said slowly, leaning in to kiss the top of her head, but she barely reacted, just nodding absently as she continued to type away.
She must really be tired, he thought, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling settling in his chest. But it didn’t go away.
Later, as they both got ready for bed, the sense of wrongness only grew stronger. They usually had fun together during their nighttime routine, making goofy faces in the mirror or playfully shoving each other out of the way for space at the sink. But tonight, Y/N was eerily quiet, methodically brushing her teeth and washing her face without any of the usual banter. Daniel tried to catch her eye, to get her to laugh or smile, but she seemed lost in her thoughts, distant in a way that made his stomach twist uncomfortably.
What happened today? he wondered as he watched her move about the room. He wanted to ask, to push for answers, but something told him now wasn’t the time. He didn’t want to pressure her if she wasn’t ready to talk.
When they finally climbed into bed, Daniel reached out to pull her into his arms like he did every night. But to his surprise, Y/N turned the other way, her back to him.
“Goodnight,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.
“Goodnight,” Daniel replied, though his voice was thick with confusion. What’s going on?
As Y/N lay there, facing away from him, she stared blankly at the wall, her mind replaying the cruel words she had overheard on the yacht. Her chest tightened with each memory, the laughter, the dismissive comments, and worst of all, Daniel’s silence. How can he just laugh along? Do they all think that about me? Does he? The questions spun endlessly in her mind, each one cutting deeper than the last.
Daniel lay beside her, staring up at the ceiling, his heart heavy with worry. Something’s really wrong. I just don’t know what. He desperately wanted to reach out to her, to hold her, but the way she had pulled away made him hesitate. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to bridge the sudden gap between them.
The silence stretched on between them, filled with unspoken words and unresolved hurt. Neither of them slept easily that night.
time skip
Daniel woke up to the soft glow of morning light filtering through the curtains, his hand instinctively reaching out for Y/N’s warm body beside him. But instead of finding her curled up against him as she usually was, his hand met cold, empty sheets. He blinked, groggy with sleep, his heart sinking as he registered the emptiness beside him. Where is she?
Yawning, he sat up and rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. It wasn’t like Y/N to be up before him, especially on a weekend. They usually spent the morning lazing around in bed, entangled in each other, exchanging lazy kisses and talking about everything and nothing. But today, the bed felt too big, too empty.
He stumbled out of the bedroom, still half-asleep, and made his way to the living room, where he heard the familiar clinking of a spoon against a coffee mug. Y/N was standing by the kitchen counter, freshly showered, her hair still damp and clinging to her neck. She was wearing her running clothes, and Daniel realized with a pang that she must have gone for a run—something she usually only did later in the day, if at all.
“Morning,” she said, glancing up at him with a small, polite smile before turning back to her coffee.
Daniel frowned, the unease from last night gnawing at him again. No morning kiss, no joke about me being the sleepyhead… He missed the way she usually greeted him, bounding over with her signature enthusiasm and peppering his face with kisses until he was fully awake.
“Morning,” he replied, his voice laced with confusion as he walked over to her. “You’ve been out running?”
“Yeah,” she nodded, taking a sip of her coffee. “Just needed to clear my head a bit.”
Daniel leaned against the counter, searching her face for any sign of what was wrong, but she kept her eyes trained on her mug, avoiding his gaze. Clear her head? Since when does she need to do that alone? He watched her carefully, noting how different she seemed—quieter, more subdued.
Usually, their mornings were filled with light-hearted banter, Y/N teasing him about his bedhead or him playfully tugging at her clothes as they tried to decide who got the shower first. Today, though, there was none of that. Just a few polite exchanges before Y/N quietly went back to whatever she was doing, leaving Daniel feeling more lost than ever.
Later, as they sat down for breakfast, Daniel noticed how Y/N barely spoke. She ate quietly, not her usual animated self who would chat non-stop about random topics or playfully steal food off his plate. When she finished, she simply got up, rinsed her plate, and headed to the living room without a word, leaving him alone at the table. This isn’t right. She’s never like this.
He followed her into the living room, where she had already settled on the couch with her laptop, focusing on some work. Normally, Sunday mornings were their time to cuddle up together and watch silly TV shows, often forgetting about the world outside. But today, Y/N was distant, absorbed in her work and not giving him the usual attention that he had come to cherish. Daniel sat down beside her, hoping she’d lean into him like she always did, but instead, she shifted slightly away, her focus still on the screen.
“Wanna watch something?” Daniel asked, trying to sound upbeat.
Y/N looked up briefly, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. “Maybe later, I’ve got a lot to finish.”
Later? Daniel thought, the word stinging more than it should have. He leaned back into the couch, feeling the distance between them growing, an invisible barrier he didn’t know how to break.
As the day wore on, Daniel kept trying to bring her back, suggesting they go out for lunch or do something fun together, but each time, Y/N politely declined, claiming she was tired or had things to do. Every attempt he made to connect with her was met with that same polite, distant response, and it was driving him crazy.
This is not us. What happened? He replayed their last few days in his mind, searching for anything that could have caused this sudden change, but he couldn’t pinpoint it. It was like she had just pulled away overnight, and he had no idea why.
By the time evening rolled around, the tension between them was palpable. Daniel couldn’t take it anymore. They were usually inseparable, laughing and joking even after long days, but now it felt like they were miles apart, even sitting on the same couch.
As Y/N stood up to put away her laptop, Daniel finally spoke, his voice tight with the anxiety that had been building inside him all day. “Y/N, we have to talk.”
Y/N froze, her back to him, her hands trembling slightly as she placed the laptop on the table. She had been dreading this moment, knowing that Daniel would eventually confront her about her behavior. But how could she explain the hurt she felt, the betrayal that had been gnawing at her since she overheard those cruel words?
She turned slowly to face him, her heart pounding in her chest, knowing she couldn’t keep avoiding this conversation. The look on Daniel’s face—the worry, the confusion—made her want to cry, but she held it in, biting her lip to keep her emotions at bay.
Daniel could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he watched Y/N stand there, her back still partially turned to him. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside him. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he needed to understand what was going on.
“Y/N,” he began, his voice softer now, “what’s wrong? Please, talk to me. I feel like you’re a million miles away.”
Y/N took a shaky breath, trying to hold herself together. She didn’t want to cry, didn’t want to let the emotions she had been bottling up spill over, but the concern in Daniel’s voice was too much. She turned around fully, her eyes locking with his, and in that moment, the dam broke.
“Daniel, I—I can’t keep pretending like everything’s okay,” she said, her voice trembling. “I heard them. I heard what your friends said about me on the yacht.”
Daniel’s stomach dropped as her words registered. “What? What did they say?”
“They… they called me exhausting,” Y/N choked out, tears welling up in her eyes. “They said I’m too much, that I never sit still. And you… you just laughed along, Daniel. You didn’t say anything.”
Daniel felt like he’d been punched in the gut. He remembered the conversation now, the way his friends had made those offhanded comments, but at the time, he hadn’t thought much of it. I didn’t think it mattered. I didn’t think she heard.
“Oh, Y/N,” he whispered, stepping closer to her, reaching out to hold her, but she took a step back, shaking her head as tears spilled down her cheeks.
“No, Daniel. You don’t understand. That hurt. So much,” she cried, her voice breaking. “I thought I was fitting in, I thought they liked me. But to hear them say that… And then to see you just… go along with it? It broke my heart.”
Daniel’s eyes filled with tears as he watched her break down, each of her words cutting deeper into him. He had never seen her like this, so vulnerable, so broken, and it shattered him to know he had a part in causing it.
“Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion. “I swear, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t think… I should have said something. I should have defended you. But I didn’t think they were serious. I didn’t think it would hurt you like this.”
“That’s the problem, Daniel!” Y/N exclaimed, her voice rising with the pain she had been holding back. “You didn’t think. You didn’t think about how it would make me feel, how it would tear me apart to hear the people you care about think so little of me. And you just stood there, laughing with them, like it was okay.”
Daniel’s heart ached as he saw the tears streaming down her face, the hurt in her eyes so raw, so deep. “Y/N, you have to believe me, I love you just the way you are,” he pleaded, his voice cracking. “You’re not too much for me. You’re everything. I love your energy, your spirit. It’s what drew me to you in the first place. I don’t want you to change. Not for them, not for anyone.”
“But you didn’t say that,” she whispered, her voice so quiet it was almost drowned out by her sobs. “You didn’t say anything. And now I feel like… like I’m too much, even for you. I feel like I don’t belong, like I’m just a burden.”
“No, no,” Daniel shook his head frantically, desperate to make her understand. “You’re not a burden, Y/N. You’re my everything. I should have stood up for you. I should have told them how amazing you are, how much you mean to me. I’m so sorry I let you down. Please, don’t think for a second that you’re too much for me.”
Y/N’s knees gave out, and she sank to the floor, burying her face in her hands as sobs wracked her body. “It just hurt so much, Daniel. I’ve never felt like this before. I’ve never felt so… unwanted.”
Daniel was on the floor beside her in an instant, pulling her into his arms despite her initial resistance. He held her tightly, his own tears falling freely now as he pressed his lips to the top of her head.
“You are wanted, Y/N,” he whispered fiercely, his voice thick with emotion. “You are loved. I love you. I need you. I’m so sorry I made you feel this way. I’m so sorry I didn’t protect you from that. I never wanted to make you feel unwanted or unloved. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I can’t stand the thought of you doubting that.”
Y/N clung to him, her tears soaking his shirt as she cried out all the pain and hurt she had been holding inside. Daniel rocked her gently, whispering apologies and reassurances, his heart breaking with every sob that escaped her lips.
“I’m here, love,” he whispered, kissing her hair, her forehead, anywhere he could reach. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. I’ll do better, I promise. I’ll never let you feel like this again.”
They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, tangled together on the floor, holding onto each other as if their lives depended on it. The weight of the day’s hurtful words slowly lifted as Daniel poured his heart out to her, begging for her forgiveness, for a chance to make things right.
And in that moment, Y/N knew that despite the pain, despite the heartbreak, Daniel’s love was real. She could feel it in the way he held her, in the way he whispered her name like it was the most precious thing in the world. But the hurt was still there, lingering beneath the surface, a reminder that words—whether spoken or left unsaid—had the power to break even the strongest of hearts.
time skip
After what felt like hours of clinging to each other on the floor, Daniel and Y/N finally moved to the couch. The exhaustion from the emotional storm that had passed left them both drained, but neither could bear to be apart. Y/N nestled into Daniel's side, her head resting on his chest as his arms wrapped securely around her. The room was quiet now, the only sound being their slow, steady breathing as they tried to find some semblance of peace in each other’s embrace.
Y/N’s eyes fluttered closed, but her mind was still racing. The warmth of Daniel’s body against hers was comforting, but the memories of the hurtful words she had heard kept playing in her mind. Yet, she could also feel the sincerity in Daniel’s touch, the way his hands never stopped moving, as if he were afraid to let her go. She could tell he was struggling too, and that realization tugged at her heart.
As they lay there, the silence between them filled with unspoken apologies and lingering pain, Y/N suddenly felt something wet against her temple. She shifted slightly, tilting her head up to see Daniel’s face, and her heart clenched at the sight of tears streaming down his cheeks. His usually bright eyes were glassy, the usual spark in them dimmed by guilt and sorrow.
“Danny?” she whispered, concern flooding her voice.
Daniel didn’t respond right away, his jaw clenched as he tried to keep his emotions in check, but the tears kept coming, no matter how hard he tried to stop them. His grip on her tightened as if holding her close would somehow undo the pain he had caused.
Without thinking, Y/N climbed onto his lap, straddling him so she could face him fully. She cupped his face in her hands, her thumbs brushing away the tears that continued to fall. The sight of him like this—so broken, so vulnerable—made her chest ache. She had never seen him cry like this before, and it tore at her heartstrings in a way she couldn’t describe.
“Danny, please,” she murmured, her voice soft and pleading. “Don’t cry.”
But Daniel shook his head, his tears blurring his vision as he looked at her. “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he choked out, his voice thick with anguish. “I’m so, so sorry. I can’t believe I hurt you like that. I should’ve stopped them. I should’ve told them to shut up. You didn’t deserve any of that, and I just… I failed you.”
“Danny…” Y/N’s voice broke as she tried to comfort him, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, she leaned in, pressing her forehead against his, their breaths mingling as they both tried to steady themselves.
“I love you so much,” Daniel continued, his voice cracking with each word. “You’re the most important person in my life, and I hate myself for making you feel anything less than that. You’re perfect just the way you are, Y/N. I don’t want you to change, not ever. I’m so sorry I let you down. Please, please forgive me.”
Y/N felt tears welling up in her own eyes again, her heart breaking all over at the sheer desperation in his voice. She could see how much this was tearing him apart, how much he regretted what had happened, and it made her realize that he was hurting just as much as she was.
“Danny,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she gently kissed his forehead, then his cheeks, tasting the salt of his tears on her lips. “I know you’re sorry. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me. I forgive you, okay? I forgive you.”
Daniel let out a shaky breath, his hands coming up to cradle her face as if he were afraid she might slip away. “I don’t deserve you,” he murmured, his voice filled with raw emotion. “I don’t deserve how understanding you are, how forgiving. I don’t deserve you.”
“Don’t say that,” Y/N replied, her voice firm despite the tears threatening to spill over. “You’re everything to me, Danny. I’m not perfect, and neither are you, but we’re perfect for each other. And that’s all that matters. We’ll get through this, okay? Together.”
Daniel nodded, his lips trembling as he pulled her closer, burying his face in the crook of her neck. “I love you so much,” he whispered, his breath warm against her skin. “I’ll do anything to make this right. I just need you to know that I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. You’re my whole world, Y/N.”
Y/N tightened her hold on him, her fingers threading through his hair as she held him close. “I love you too, Danny,” she whispered back, her voice thick with emotion. “And I’m here too. We’ll be okay. We will.”
For a long moment, they just held each other, their tears mingling as they clung to the comfort of being together, of knowing that despite everything, their love was strong enough to weather the storm. Slowly, the tension between them began to ease, replaced by the quiet reassurance that they had each other, and that was enough.
As they sat there, wrapped in each other’s arms, Daniel pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder, his tears finally beginning to subside. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “Thank you for forgiving me. I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you never doubt how much you mean to me.”
Y/N nodded, her own tears finally slowing as she felt the sincerity in his words. “Just don’t ever shut me out again,” she whispered. “We’re in this together, Danny. Always.”
“Always,” Daniel echoed, his voice filled with a promise as he kissed her gently, sealing the words between them.
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navybrat817 · 10 months ago
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can we just take a moment to ✨appreciate✨ this? because I know where I’m looking… what about you? 😏
I'm INNOCENT, Lana. And you send me this?!
Wicked Tongue
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky has a wicked tongue. Word Count: Over 500 Warnings: Explicit sexual content, oral sex (f. receiving), reader is thirsty, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning and a menace, okay?). A/N: I swear, I'm innocent! But something short and sweet for a Sinful Saturday. ❤️Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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You tapped a finger against the drink you were holding, refusing to take a sip as you watched Bucky laugh at something Steve said. The love of your life was trying to kill you. Not literally, but it certainly felt the way. Why else would he pick a suit that molded to his beefy frame like a glove? What reason did he have to pull his silky long hair back like that?
He already had to fix it once since he decided to shove your dress up and sink to his knees before you left for the party.
“That’s it, baby. Pull my hair. Show me how much you love it when I fuck you with my tongue.”
As much as you loved Bucky eating you out, he loved it even more. You were certain there wasn’t another man on the planet who enjoyed the taste of pussy as much as he did. You ignored the twinge of jealousy because it wasn’t just any pussy he wanted. It was yours and yours alone.
Hell, if someone told him the sun rose in the east and set in the west, he’d argue that it went up when your legs opened and went down when they closed. Because the entrance to heaven existed between your thighs and it was only fair that he worshiped it with his mouth. You blessed him when you came on his tongue and he lapped up your offering with a groan every single time.
It felt almost as good as when you fell apart on his cock.
“Fuck,” you whispered when he swiped his tongue along his lip again.
Each time his tongue darted out of his mouth was like a personal attack, a jab to your core. You could still feel the indents from his fingers when he gripped your ass, shoving his face as close as he could so he could lick his way into your dripping cunt. The iron-clad grip nearly kept you from rocking your hips down, but it couldn’t stop the hot slick that rushed out of you when you came.
“Make a mess all over my face. Wanna taste you later.”
As if he sensed your stare, his sapphire eyes glanced your way from across the room and you forgot how to breathe. The beautiful bastard stared right at you as he dragged his tongue over his lower lip, slowly, deliberately. The way he sometimes did with your clit. You didn’t have super soldier strength, but you nearly shattered the glass in your hand from how hard you squeezed it when he winked.
And your panties were wet before, but now they were soaked.
You nodded toward the hall since you couldn’t find your voice. Bucky would help you find it. He’d make sure you moaned his name. Maybe even loud enough for everyone to hear.
“Excuse me, punk,” Bucky said to his best friend before he set his drink down. “In the mood for something a little sweeter.”
Something only you could satisfy his wicked tongue with.
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We deserve this, okay? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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itsjusthockey · 9 months ago
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A Hughes Affair - Jack Hughes
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This might be my favorite and cutest shit I’ve wrote ever. Enjoy.
I’m bribing you. If I get lots of engagement (reblogs, comments, love in general) I’ll get nuts and do something crazy.
w.c: 4,541 (credit to gif maker) (don’t steal my work)
On a rare day off that you and Jack get to spend together, you’d think he would want to spend it latched together somewhere private, away from his daily chaos. You would be wrong. Instead, he insists you spend the day at your least favorite place, doing your least favorite activity. The fucking golf course.
You’re two drinks in, lounging uncomfortably on the golf cart as you watch Jack take a swing, the ball immediately flying off the green toward the tree line. You can’t help but let out a loud snort, which earns a nasty glare from your boyfriend.
“Huh? What was that?” He starts walking toward you with the club handle outstretched toward you. “Think you can do any better?”
You gently bat the handle away from you when he gets close enough. “Why do you think I’m in the cart, J?”
He gives you a small smile, bends down to capture your lips in a quick kiss, and then strides away again.
“That’s what I thought.”
You narrow your eyes, then let out the most dramatic sigh you can muster.
“I’m just saying, J, if you’re gonna insist we go golfing, you better perform.”
He rolls his eyes at you, walking back toward the cart, and sits down next to you, pointing toward the direction of the ball.
“(Y/N), my love, will you please take me toward the ball so I may prove I’m worthy of you?”
You smack his knee but put the cart in motion anyway, speeding toward the ball as fast as the golf cart will carry you. You hit a couple of bumps on the way, satisfied when Jack grips his side handle and looks a little scared at your driving ability.
When you finally park next to the ball, he gets out, settles into his form, and swings away again, the ball going toward the correct direction.
“That was better,” you call out. “Not good, but better.”
He rolls his eyes again, and you throw him a wink, going to grab another shooter that you’d bought earlier. If he’s going to force you to watch him golf, you’re going to be a bit tipsy, and he’s going to have to take care of you later.
After your shot, you settle back into your regular system. You taunt him, he retaliates, you kiss and makeup, then the cycle begins again. It’s a good system; you genuinely love it, but when the sun starts to dip below the horizon, and you’ve run out of alcohol, you know it’s time to leave.
Jack must’ve sensed this, too, because he returns to the cart, places his club back into the bag, and sits down somewhat hard next to you.
“You may be slightly right. Today wasn’t my best showing.” He sighs. “But I’m on the rise.”
You laugh, grab his face, and pull it toward you, planting a giant kiss on his cheek, hoping to dull the pain of his inadequacy at golf.
After your kiss, you take that as your cue to finally escape this green hell, and you start driving toward the insanely nice country club main house to check back in your gold cart.
As you get closer to the building, you and back share a look. It’s decorated to the nines, and nicely dressed people are out and about, drinks in hand and mingling.
“It must be a wedding?” Jack questions, raising his eyebrow.
You hum in agreement and start making your way toward the drop-off point. You drop the cart, handing back the keys to the uninterested-looking teenage girl. You offer her your best smile and go to walk out before she calls after you.
“By the way, if you’re with the wedding party, the dance starts in half an hour.”
You move to say you’re not before Jack squeezes your hand and answers for you.
“Perfect timing then, thanks.”
You throw him a confused glance as you head through the door. A slight smirk is playing on his lips, and you don’t like the mischievous glint you see settling into his eyes. Once you clear the space, you head toward his Range, but before reaching for the door handle, he leans against the passenger seat, blocking you.
“How do you feel about crashing a wedding?”
You widen your eyes at the boy in front of you. Never in a million years would you expect him to say that.
“What?”
He shrugs his shoulders and points toward the trunk of a bag you have in there.
“I mean, it’s kinda fate. You still have that dress from Brunch, and I have an extra suit.”
You honestly think he’s joking, but his look is serious.
“What if we get caught? I would die.”
He shakes his head at your question, opening the back and pulling out your bag and the suit.
“We won’t,” he seems so sure of himself. “And if we do, we’ll handle it.”
He thrusts the bag toward you and opens the back door, gesturing you inside to change. You throw him one last questioning look but decide it’s much easier just to follow his lead.
It takes you a few minutes to change in his back seat, but it wouldn’t be the first time, and you highly doubt the last. Once you’re finished, you hop out and motion to the back of the dress so the zipper you couldn’t reach. Jack is quick to move your hair to the side and grab the zipper, pulling it up. Once he does, he gently kisses your shoulder and moves behind you to get dressed.
You stand watch as more and more people pour into the wedding. Your heart is thumping, and the nerves of what you’re about to do are getting to you. You feel slightly relieved when you see many couples your age walking in, but it also sets you even more on edge, knowing your age group will be a factor.
Almost in record time, Jack hops out of the vehicle and stands before you, spinning around and giving you a 360 view.
“How do I look?”
You smile at him. “Very handsome.”
He does, actually, for someone who just changed into a backup suit in the back of a Range Rover. He steps toward you, and you smooth down his lapels and straighten the tie to be perfect. Once you finish that, he helps you step into some heels you’d worn earlier, and once they’re on, you do a quick little spin for his approval.
“Look okay?”
He gently grabs one of your hands, pulling it to his mouth and kissing it softly.
“Beautiful as always.”
Once you’re both settled, you make your way to the doors and pray that you get in. Your heart is thumping out of your chest, and Jack's hand gently rubs over your thumb to help your nerves. As you get close, another couple beats you to the door, and you both wait as they talk to the two women standing next to a greeting table out front. They say something you can’t hear, and the ladies offer a bright smile and ushers them inside. You’re up next, and as soon as the other couple steps through, Jack pulls you toward the table.
“Hello!” One lady says brightly. “Bride or groom?”
You weren’t expecting the question, and your face falls slightly, but your overconfident boyfriend doesn’t miss a beat.
“Both, actually.”
The ladies smile again brightly and hand over a little brochure.
“That’s both the bride and groom's signature cocktails and the dance should be starting soon.”
The one closest to the door gestures to you both inside, and Jack leads you in, gently squeezing your hand again.
The inside looks beautiful. Lights are strung everywhere, and the decorations are tasteful. You bask in the essence of it, and you genuinely love weddings. You see a couple of signs as you walk, and you catch sight of pictures of the happy couple.
“Kevin and Stacy. We should probably remember that.”
You snort at your boyfriend, but you do make a mentor note. It would be rather apparent of your wedding crashing if you didn’t know the names.
Jack leads you to the main ballroom, where everything is stunningly assembled. Most of the chairs have been cleared, and a dance floor in the middle waits for people to hit it.
You follow Jack to the table toward the side, which holds hundreds of pictures of the bride and groom throughout their life. You see that when they seemingly meet one another, it mirrors very similar to your relationship. You smile big as you see pictures of them doing almost everything together. They spent their summers boating their winters by a fireplace, and there is even a photo of Stacy hugging her man after a hockey game. You jab Jack in the ribs as you see it, noting that he’s donning a University of Michigan club hockey jersey. Once he sees the photo you’re looking at, he pulls you closer and laughs at the small connection to his family's favorite place.
Someone clears their throat behind you, and you freeze. You both turn slowly to see a woman standing there, two drinks in hand.
“You two look like you need a drink while staring at these photos.”
She hands you and Jack each a cocktail, and your heart starts beating faster.
“I’m not sure I know either of you.” She pauses, a puzzled look crossing her features. “But you also seem so familiar.”
You take a deep breath, ready to be caught, and accept your fate.
“I know Kev from hockey at Umich. Back when he played club.”
You want to die as your boyfriend lies through his teeth, but as soon as he speaks, the girl laughs.
“Oh my god, that makes sense. It’s nice to meet you..?” She pauses.
“Jack.” Jack extends his hand to hers, and then she turns to you.
“(Y/N).”
She shakes your hand as well. You’re thankful she gets called away moments later, and she sends you one last smile and walks toward the group of women who called her.
“That was close.” You breathe out, then turn to Jack. “Since when did you get good at lying?”
He chuckles a bit and shrugs his shoulders. “I’m a middle child. I’ve always been good.”
He retakes your hand and leads you away from the picture table to look more around the venue. You kill as much time as possible, and finally, the dance begins to start.
You and Jack sit far away from the dance floor in the back of the crowd. Like everyone else, you both coo as you see the happy couple for the first time, having their first dance on the floor. You watch as they sway back and forth in their little world, ignoring everyone else and focusing on one another. It’s a sweet moment you’re witnessing, and you can’t help but feel a little guilty.
“I feel terrible, J I think we should go. I wouldn’t want to ruin their night if they knew a few strangers were here.”
Jack listens intently to your plea, and he knows by the look on your face that you’re already on edge and staying here won’t help.
“Okay, let’s go. I have to run to the bathroom. Are you good here for a minute?”
You nod your head, and he gets up. You watch as he goes and then force yourself to stare at the floor, which is now crowded with many attendees from the wedding. You smile at the people dancing again and count down the seconds until Jack gets back.
As you sit there anxiously, Jack goes as fast as he can to the nearest bathroom. It’s nicely decorated as well, and it seems to be empty except for one another man. Jack keeps his head down, does his business, and tries to go as slow as possible. Nevertheless, the other man takes his sweet time, and Jack meets him at the sink area.
Jack offers a small, tight-lipped smile as he washes his hands, and so does the other dude. He goes back to drying his hands when he catches the other man doing a double take, and a brief look of realization crosses both of their features and a sudden pit forms in his stomach.
“Holy fuck,” The man says. “Are you Jack Hughes?”
Shit.
Jack swallows and then slowly nods his head and swallows hard. “Yep. That’s me. I assume you’re Kevin? The groom?”
Jack half expects the man to get pissed, and he prepares for the worst.
“What’re you doing here?” A crazy smile cracks across Kevin’s face.
Jack thinks he could lie, but at this point, there is no use. So, for the first time all night, he tells the truth.
“Honestly, me and my girlfriend saw your wedding while golfing, and I convinced her to come and crash it.”
Jack explains the situation quickly, but as he speaks, a look of disbelief flashes across Kevin’s face.
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah, man, I’m sorry. We’ll leave now, and I can pay you for the drinks and whatever else.”
Kevin suddenly busts out laughing, shaking his head.
“Why would you leave? The old people are finally going home, and the real parties are about to start.”
Jack's mouth drops open, and he can’t believe it.
“Are you sure we can stay?” He gapes.
Kevin nods his head and gently clasps him on the shoulder.
“You could crash my honeymoon night and I wouldn’t mind. I’m a huge fan, and this is the craziest thing that’s ever happened to me.”
Out of all the ways Jack ran through with what would happen if they got caught, this wasn’t one of them at all. They spend the next few minutes talking, and it feels like they’re old buddies.
“Just let me tell Stac, she’ll go nuts for you two.”
They leave the bathroom, and Jack makes a beeline to where you’re sitting. As he closes the furnace, he can see your worry etched across your face, and you look as though you want to die. When you finally see him coming, your eyes narrow a bit.
“Jesus, Jack, what took you so long.” You hiss.
He takes your hand. “You’re never gonna believe who I ran into.”
He quickly explains the bathroom story to you, and you’re hanging onto every word. Your mouth drops open as he finishes, and he sees the wave of relief practically roll over you.
“So now we’re invited?” You ask.
“We’re invited.”
You lean over him and throw your arms around his neck, planting a small kiss on his cheek.
“Who knew that being you would have so many weird perks.”
————————————————————————
Kevin wasn’t lying, and the minute the older folks left, the real party began. Drinks are flowing, and everyone in the wedding party is dancing their asses off. The mix being played is heavy on the 2000s hits and club music, and you’re loving every second. The minute you drag Jack to the dance floor, he knows his night is going to be wild.
Usher is bumping in the background as you settle your hips on Jack. You spend that way for half a song, and you love every second of feeling his arms wrapped around you. You’re genuinely on cloud nine, and nothing could be better now—only maybe one thing.
“I need some water.” You yell over the music.
Jack nods his head toward the bar. “You want me to grab you some?”
You shake your head no and pry his arms off of you. You quickly give him a peck and a swat to the ass as you walk toward the bar. You patiently place yourself in line when a tap on your shoulder takes you out of your daze.
“I take it you’re one-half of the wedding crashers?” You flush red and widen your eyes as you see the woman of the night.
Her evening dress is gorgeous, and her hair and makeup are perfect. You finally meet her stare dead on, and you think for a moment that she might be upset, but much to your surprise, she loops an arm through yours and pulls you close to her.
“I’m so happy you guys are here.” She whispers in your ear. “You made my husband’s life tonight. He’s told almost every guest that Jack Hughes came to his wedding. He’s never going to let this go.”
You giggle at the woman beside you, and soon enough, the line clears, and you’re at the front. You politely ask for water, and the bride behind you interrupts you.
“We will also have two shots.” She leans over your shoulder and shoots you a wicked smile.
As soon as the bartender delivers your drink. She grabs the two shots, hands you one, and loops your arm again to take a twisted shot together.
“Bottoms up.” She winks at you.
You toss the shot back, and the hard liquor burns down your throat. You laugh as a little bit slides down your face, and you wipe it away as Stacy suddenly drags you away, Introducing you to the wedding party.
Everyone is lovely, and you finally make it to the maid of honor, who you recognize immediately as the woman from earlier who gave you your first drinks. As soon as you properly introduce yourself, she throws your arms around you in a hug.
“You look like a killer on the dance floor; let’s go.”
Like that, you’re magically accepted into these strangers' lives, and you make your way to the dance floor with the rest of the bridesmaids and the bride herself.
More shots flow and terrible dance moves are danced. When you enter the floor with your new crew, you spot Jack in a circle with the groom. You mentally laugh at the humor of the situation, and you can’t help but love how the night has panned out.
Almost an hour later, you’re beyond drunk and still dancing with the bridal party. You’ve become fast friends, and by now, you’ve already promised to set two bridesmaids up with the single devil players you know.
It isn’t until the DJ gives everyone a little dance break with a slow song that you suddenly miss your boyfriend very much. He’s nowhere in your eyesight, but you nearly jump when someone grabs you into their arms and places a kiss on your neck.
“You look like you are having fun,” Jack whispers in your ear, pulling you in even closer.
You snuggle into his hold and find yourself melting. You love being in his arms; it’s your favorite place. Especially when you’re drunk, they feel like the safest place in the world.
With the slow song playing in the background, Jack turns you to face him. He’s got that smitten look on his face, but he doesn’t look as glazed as you thought he would.
“Have you been drinking?” You question, running your hands at the nape of his neck.
He shakes his head no. “Stopped a while ago. Someone has to drive us home, and I saw you take two shots with the bride thirty minutes ago.”
He chuckles and squeezes your sides, and you yelp away from him.
“You don’t have to stop,” you complain. “We can Uber.”
He smiles again, and a soft look crosses his face.
“Nah, I wanna be the one taking you home.” he cups your face in his hands and gives you a soft kiss.
The slow song continues, and you place your head on Jack's shoulder, savoring being there. You’re letting him lead, and he’s gently swaying with you on the floor. Many other couples surround you, but you couldn’t care less about anyone else in the room. If he’s near you, he’s the only person on the planet.
As soon as the song ends, he sits you down at the edge of the dance floor and goes to get you a glass of water. You sit at the table, drunkenly overlooking the crowd, and smile at the wedding around you. You love weddings, and you often think about yours. You don’t know how far out it will be, but you can’t care less as long as Jack is the one who asks. Though you’d never tell him, you’re ready whenever he is. You knew a year in that he was it for you, that he was your everything. But alas, you have school, and he has hockey, and you know he’ll pop the question when he’s ready.
At the same time you’re daydreaming, Jack is grabbing the water from the bartender and having one last talk with the groom, who also was getting water for his new wife.
“How long have you two been together,” Kevin asks Jack, nodding toward you at the table.
“Over two years,” Jack answers. “So a while.”
Kevin whistles at the answer, and a smirk plays on his lips.
“Yeah, a long while.” He nods toward you again. “Two years was when I popped the question. Knew I waited long enough, and she was the one.”
Jack snorts at the man beside him, and Kevin counters again.
“Is she the one?”
Jack watches you from across the way as you’re watching everyone else. He smiles as he sees you eyeing the various couples, flowers, and lights surrounding you. He genuinely believes you’ve never looked more beautiful underneath the dim light and the essence of love and joy radiating through the air.
“Yeah, she’s the one,” Jack says firmly, meaning every word.
“Then what’re you waiting for?”
The question is fair. You’ve talked about marriage, but it’s always been on the back burner behind your school and his hockey. You both have discussed how you’re both so young, and you have nothing but time to waste together.
“I don’t know. I guess I’m waiting for her. I don’t know if she’s ready.”
Kevin suddenly starts to laugh, almost uncontrollably, and Jack shoots him a confused look.
“Man, I’ve been watching how she looks at you all night. I don’t think I’ve seen any woman that ready.”
Jack eyes him. “Really?”
“Really.”
Jack and Kevin talk for another minute, saying their goodbyes and making promises to gold together soon when Jack makes his way back to your table. You are sitting sleepily and messing with the edges of the cloth table. When he gets close enough, he calls your name and hands you the water.
“You ready to call it a night?” He asks.
You nod your head, and he pulls you to your feet and takes you on your rounds to say your final goodbyes to the gracious couple who let you crash their wedding and all the new friends you’ve made in a singular, memorable night.
As you both leave the venue, Jack takes your hand, intertwining your fingers as you walk together. The cool night air feels refreshing against your skin after the warmth of the crowded dance floor. You lean into Jack's side, feeling content and happy to have spent such an unexpected but enjoyable evening together.
As you approach the Range, Jack opens the door, gesturing for you to get in first. Once you're settled in the passenger seat, he closes the door gently before going to the driver's side. Before starting the engine, he turns to you, a soft smile on his lips.
“You know, deciding to crash that wedding with you was one of the best decisions I've ever made," he says, his eyes meeting yours with warmth and affection.
You let out your millionth laugh of the night, feeling a rush of love for this man beside you.
“I agree. Way better than golfing earlier.”
With a soft chuckle, Jack leans in to kiss your lips tenderly, the moment feeling incredibly intimate and memorable with the surrounding setting. As you pull away, you meet each other's gaze, and nothing but love is shown on both of your faces.
“Come on, let’s get your cute ass home,” Jack says softly, his hand finding yours again as he starts the car.
As Jack begins the drive home, you lean back in your seat, feeling the warmth of the evening still lingering in your heart. You glance over at Jack, his focused expression softened by the glow of the dashboard lights. Moments like these make you realize how lucky you are to have him by your side.
The drive is quiet but comfortable, and you can’t help but stare at him. You, indeed, are in love with this man.
As you approach home, Jack pulls into the driveway and turns off the engine. The night air feels crisp against your skin as you step out of the car, Jack following closely behind, grabbing your things. Together, you make your way to the front door, the warmth of home beckoning you inside.
Once inside, Jack makes quick work of jumping into caretaker mode, and he takes your hand and leads you to the bathroom, where he helps you remove your makeup with a tenderness that never fails to make your heart swell. He fetches everything you need for bed, your inevitable hangover, and anything else you request.
Finally, once you’re all settled, he tucks you into bed with gentle kisses and whispered words of affection. As you drift off to sleep, Jack lingers for a moment and watches how peaceful you are. With one final kiss on the forehead, he remembers Kevin’s earlier words.
Quietly slipping out of the room, Jack heads to the closet where most of his summer hockey gear sits. There, underneath many stacks of old hockey clothes where you’d never look, he retrieves the secret wedding ring that no one in the world knows about. He bought the ring after only six months of dating when he learned that you were it for him. That you were then and were always going to be his everything. He’s been holding onto the ring now for almost a year and a half, waiting for you.
Holding it in his hand, he turns it over and reflects on the depth of his love for you and the certainty that you're the one he wants to spend the rest of his life with. In this quiet moment alone, Jack makes a silent promise to himself to ask you to marry him very soon. He doesn’t want to wait, and he wants to start forever as soon as he can.
He gently places the ring in its hiding spot and returns to the room. You’re still knocked out. He smiles as he sees you’re dead to the world, and he tucks himself next to you under the covers. He almost dies of adoration when, like a magnet, you fold yourself into his side. You fit perfectly there, and he’s half tempted to wake you up and pop the question now.
He doesn’t, though; instead, he pulls you impossibly closer and lets himself think about how he’s going to ask you to marry him, and then eventually, he lets himself fall asleep, dreaming of the life you're going to have together.
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