#I haven’t mentioned him as one in this but
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martiniblues · 2 days ago
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CUPIDS CHOKEHOLD , spencer reid
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pairing boyfriend!spencer x fem!reader
synopsis you decide to visit spencer during his lunch break. unbeknownst to you, the team has been waiting for your arrival since they found out about you and spencer’s relationship.
genre fluff, reader is described with a cheugy/funky kind of style, and just overall teasing from the team lol.
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standing in the mirrored elevator, you took in your appearance one last time. your patterned tights, babydoll dress, denim jacket, and colorful accessories were nothing out of the ordinary for you.  you took pride in your sense of fashion, not caring how others perceived you. 
spencer made it known to you almost daily how much he adored the way you styled yourself. your whimsical and girly attire added the perfect contrast to his “grandpa attire” as you liked to call it. 
returning your tube of lipgloss to its desired spot, you heard the faint ding of the elevator, alerting you of your arrival. you took a deep breath before walking up to the secretary at the counter. the building was sleek and shiny, only emphasizing your appearance. 
the brunette welcomed you, asking for your id before you heard your name being called by an all too familiar voice. “she’s with me; actually, no need to call in or anything.” spencer grabbed the visitors badge and clipped it to the pocket of your jacket before looking at you. 
“hey spence,” you giggled, adjusting his glasses that had gone askew from his evident rush to get to you. he blushed as you slid your hand to the side of his neck, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek softly. 
he grabbed your hand and led you into what you deemed to be the “bullpen” spencer had mentioned to you before. your boots clicked on the ground, muffled by the sounds of the bau. 
many workers turned and looked, unfamiliar with your presence and even more shocked that you were with spencer. he looked at you, noticing your wondering eyes. “it’s a little hectic right now, sorry.” he pulled you into his cubicle, already having a chair ready for you. 
“its actually really cool seeing this place for the first time. it really is like the tv shows.” he almost laughed at your childlike awe, reaching over to roll your chair closer to his own. satisfied with your positioning, spencer moved a few folders and notebooks from his desk to make room for your shared food. 
you could only get one bite in before a presence appeared behind you. “you invited mrs. genius here, and you didn’t tell anyone?” two hands came to grab spencer by his shoulders, causing him to jump slightly. 
the man smiled at you with possibly the whitest teeth you had ever seen. his broad shoulders, stature, and dark skin made him almost god-like. “morgan-“ spencer began before another head peaked around him.
“the woman, the myth, the legend!” the shorter blonde woman gasped, walking over to you. spinning your chair so that you were facing her entirely, her eyes lit up. “you are literally the cutest thing i have ever seen. boy wonder, why haven’t you brought her in sooner?” the nickname made you laugh, looking at spencer to see the embarrassed look on his face. 
“morgan and garcia, back off before you scare the poor girl away.” a dark-haired woman leaned against the desk behind you. soon after, another blonde and two older men crowed around you. 
they waited eagerly as spencer introduced you, looking between you two as if this were the best thing they had ever seen. “it’s nice to meet you all. spence has told me so much about you guys.” you rose from your seat, shaking their hands so as not to come off as unprofessional in such a serious building. 
even if it contradicted their previous actions…
“she even has a nickname for him, oh derek hold me before i pass out from the beauty of young love.” penelope held her hand to her heart, leaning into the man beside her as he rolled his eyes from her antics. 
“she was nearly this dramatic when she noticed the picture spencer put up of you on his desk.” rossi pointed at the item you had failed to notice as you arrived. 
tucked beside his computer, a small black and white photobooth strip stared back at you. memories of the early bits of your relationship flooded your mind.
you smiled lightly at the last panel, remembering how nervous you had been to kiss spencer on camera. he looked up at you, mirroring your expression.
the team continued to interrogate you, asking about where the two of you met, your first date, who asked out who first, almost as if they were profiling you. 
spencer sighed at the realization, clearly annoyed at your alone time being interrupted. you noticed, sitting back down beside him and looking at him to reassure him that you were fine. 
“glad to see she really likes him and wasn’t paid.” emily nodded towards spencer’s cheek. a light pink kiss mark adorned his skin, making the rest of the team snicker before he wiped it off with the back of his hand. 
“are you guys trying to scare her away?” spencer whined, feeling like a boy introducing his first girlfriend to his embarrassing family. 
“come on, reid, we’re only messing with you.” jj perched her hand on her hip, smiling at you warmly. “we’ll let you guys be for now, but don’t leave too soon. we have to give her a tour!” penelope insisted, turning to the group as they all shook their heads in agreement. 
“that’d be nice, thank you.” you replied before turning back to your boyfriend. “you don’t have to if you don’t want to.” spencer mumbled, leaning into your side.
you ruffled his hair, “i see why you talk about them so much. they clearly care about you a lot.” you looked over your shoulder, catching them spying from one of the conference rooms. 
smirking you turned back to spencer, kissing his cheek once more before you continued to eat and talk about what you’d plan to do after he got off work. 
after you finished your mostly uninterrupted lunch, you were swept away by penelope as she gave you your promised tour. showing you everyone’s office, the break room, multiple conference rooms, and even the dingy locker room in the very back.
after one tight hug from morgan, a promise for a girls night from penelope, some teasing from jj and emily, and more typical goodbyes from hotch and rossi, you were finally walking back to your car.
you expected spencer to just walk you back to the elevator, but your face quickly lit up when he stepped inside, pulling you flush against him and pressing a button to make the doors close.
“finally have you alone.” he mumbled before crashing his lips to yours. you gasped at his sudden boldness, highly due to the lack of curious eyes, and moved your hands to rest behind his neck.
his hands went under your jacket, yearning to be close to you but having enough sense to not pull anything too risky. “i’ve been wanting to do that since you’ve got here.” he pulled away shortly before the ding of the elevator announced your arrival.
you just grabbed his hand and pulled him along side you. “they were really sweet, spence. i’m happy you work with people that are so much like a family.” as you made it to your car you turned around, your back leaning against your trunk as spencer came to stand in-front of you.
“they’re nosey like one, for sure.” he joked, bringing his hand to rest on your hip once again. you sighed before reaching up to kiss him one last time. “i’ll see you tonight.” you promised, squeezing his hand before it left yours in his return to work.
before you got in your car, you turned around looking up to see six familiar faces looking right back at you.
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just something i thought of off a whim because i saw an edit of the bau to 400 lux by lorde and got SOOOOO emotional. like thats my family fr!!!! hope you enjoyed<333
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livbedum · 11 hours ago
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THIS COULD BE US
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I DO NOT GET JEALOUS
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ topper’s birthday was practically made out to be a national holiday on the island. you had gotten your mother to lend you the yacht , having a more intimate party earlier for dinner. rafe and kelce set up the condo for the actual party. everything was going smooth. until it wasn’t.
word count 5.8k
warnings profanity , jealous!reader and kinda jealous!rafe , mentions of chlamydia , underage drinking , pda ( just kissing and grabbing ) , smut ( oral male!receiving in car , oral fem!receiving , unprotected pinv , spanking (1) , facial ) , and i think that’s it
MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY
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IN TOPPER fashion , his birthday party has a theme and dress code. white party , white clothes , white fucking yacht. and because it was his birthday , and he was one of your best friends , you gave in to every single demand he had.
he wanted a dj? done. he wanted the men to women ratio at a happy 1:3? done. he wanted a specific dish created by a specific chef from the mainland? done. he demanded a bouncer to stand at the front door of rafe’s condo for hours just so no ruffians get inside? done.
you were busting your ass to make sure his birthday was going perfectly , and you were doing a damn good job. good enough that it made you think you wanted this exact party for your own twenty-first. you had lost track of him once or twice already. dinner just finished , and he went missing again. grabbing a drink of your own , to relax a little bit after how much work you had been putting into this one night.
“look at miss event coordinator. i know you’re not drinking on the job,” kelce joked , walking up to you with rafe as you sipped your gin and tonic.
“it’s my boat. i’ll drink when i want,” you retorted , side hugging the boy before moving to rafe and hugging him as well, “do you think top’s enjoying himself? he keeps disappearing.”
“oh yeah. he’s enjoying himself alright. enjoying himself with ruthie , chloe , harper , and i think he’s enjoying himself with tabitha right now,” rafe chuckled lowly , taking a swig of his own drink to hide his suggestive smile.
you theatrically gagged , smacking rafe’s arm. “you’re all disgusting. this is my mom’s boat,” you groaned, “i expected you not to fornicate on it.”
“like you haven’t?” kelce quipped , recalling the time you and your ex boyfriend had gone at it so rough one night you had to replace the railing on the sun deck.
“my boat!” you huffed , giggling with them as they laughed at you.
“well , i came over here to let you know we’re good to dock whenever top is. house is all set up,” rafe cleared his throat , seeing topper emerge from the cabin, “there’s the birthday boy!” he cheered , calling topper over.
“guys! i have gotten four separate blowies. this is the best birthday ever,” he slurred his words after he wobbled over to the three of you, “y/n/n , you’re the best for planning everything for me,” he smiled , pressing a slobbery kiss to your temple.
you smiled , discreetly wiping the spit from yourself before wrapping your arm around his waste. “you only turn twenty-one once,” you shrugged, “you ready to go to the actual party?”
“oh , for sure! maybe i’ll get laid four times!” topper laughed , dapping kelce up all the while.
“you’re all pigs!” you scoffed lightly , making your way to the helm, “be back!”
the guests that were scattered around moved to let you walk through without asking , and not long after that you were all headed back to figure eight. you and the boys helped topper off the boat and back onto solid land , his stability not getting any better. the sun hadn’t even set , so you knew in a few hours he would be passed out in one of the guest rooms at rafe’s condo.
it wasn’t long until the house was filled with people. the music was going , playing all of topper’s favorite songs along with the party classics. everyone was drinking and having fun in celebration for topper , and you couldn’t be happier.
for one : you pulled off what looked to be the best twenty-first birthday in kildare. but more importantly , you could stop hosting and have fun yourself. your wedges smacked against the marble flooring as you made your way to the bar. “can i have a tequila soda with a lime? and just a shot as well , please?” you ordered sweetly , silently thanking the bartender for coming to you first despite other people waiting for drinks.
he handed you the shot first , allowing you take it before you got your drink. you throw the shot back , letting it glide down your throat without getting you to make a face. the bartender smiled at that , mixing your drink quickly.
you turned around , leaning against the bar after thanking him. your eyes scanned the crowd. people dancing in the living room , suck and blow happening in the kitchen , swimming and chicken fights in the pool. everything looked good. everything was good.
except you didn’t have not one of your boys with you. you looked around for kelce or rafe. you had seen topper stumble upstairs with a pretty redhead a few minutes ago , but you hadn’t really seen rafe or kelce since you told them to check on a few things before the party even really started.
your brows furrowed , truly not seeing either one. but the crease in your forehead deepened when you found rafe. he was lounging on the couch , legs spread and arms on the back. he was in a group , a couple of guys you knew from school , and a few girls you recognized as well. you watched from a distance , sipping on your drink slowly. you noticed how crystal— if you remembered correctly , was laughing harder than need be , touching rafe’s body in any way she could.
and you don’t know what you would call it— it was jealousy , but something in the pit of your stomach burned. your skin felt hot , your eyes rolling all on their own. because there rafe was hanging out with people that weren’t you when your song was playing. the track made the playlist several times because it was your song. and he wasn’t even looking for you?
“can i get another shot please?” you turned around and asked the bartender. he nodded , pouring one out before sliding it to you.
you downed it easier than the first , setting the glass back down on the counter before drinking the rest of your actual drink. you pivoted on your foot , heading straight toward the couch. like usual , people shifted to the side to let you pass. even if they hadn’t , you weren’t too sure that you wouldn’t have run them right over.
rafe saw you in his peripheral , saw you storming over in your comically— to him , high wedges and silky , white dress. your tits practically jumping out of the material as you stomped.
he looked up at you and smiled when you arrived , but was quickly taken aback when you planted yourself in his lap. his arm came down to wrap around your waist naturally , but during his movement , your own hands came up to his face and pulled him in for a kiss.
you didn’t know you were going to do that. originally , in your head , you were just going to storm over and pout. this was much different than that. but rafe didn’t hesitate to kiss you back , hand on your waist squeezing your body closer to his. he groaned into it , tongue licking your lips before you opened your mouth.
neither one of you were aware how long you were making out when you pulled away , breathing heavily in each other’s faces. until crystal— still you weren’t too sure , cleared her throat.
“oh , hey!” you smiled , leaning into rafe’s touch. his cheeks were still burning from the shock of you traipsing over to stake your claim. he knew what it was the moment he saw the pout in your lips.
the girl was blushing on her own , not realizing that you and rafe had finally gotten together after years of being just friends. “hi,” she muttered awkwardly.
“did you end up taking care of that raging case of chlamydia yet , babes?” you asked , voice sweeter than syrup. crystal— presumably , dropped her jaw , eyebrows tight.
“excuse me?” she scoffed , shocked you would say something like that , but more shocked that you knew.
“oh , did i get that wrong?” you fake worried , hand coming up to your heart, “i thought i heard les and gigi talking about it at the club a couple weeks ago , but maybe it wasn’t you?” you flipped your hair over your shoulder , showing her that you truly didn’t care.
maybe you were a mean girl like everyone said.
“no,” she stated coldly, “it wasn’t me.” she stood up , grabbing her purse and phone before rushing away.
you smiled as soon as she turned , not bothered by her leaving. that was the whole point.
“ooh , you’re mean , pretty kitty,” rafe chuckled beside you , his other hand coming to your thigh and rubbing up and down.
he always called you that. kitty. he said it was because you had claws but looked so sweet at the same time. you harassed him for having a pet-play kink until you realized the term of endearment was quite cute. special just for you.
“what?” you shrugged , looking at him like the last thing you said wasn’t fowl, “i made it up , but i guess the topic hit home for her , so it’s probably best she left anyway.”
rafe rolled his eyes with a smile before grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you in for another kiss. you squealed into his lips at the sudden movement , body shifting in his lap. your hand landed on his chest to catch yourself , and you let your body melt into his.
“you all jealous i’m not paying attention to ya , kitty. green isn’t your color,” he told you , pulling back from the sloppy kiss.
you sat back , offended he would ever accuse you of such a thing. “that’s not true , rafey. you know that,” you whined , lightly— barely at all , hitting his chest in protest of his statement.
“which part?”
“all of it,” you decided with a firm shake of your head, “i do not get jealous , and i always have your attention,” you added , leaning in for another kiss, “and i do look good in green.
“i know , i know. the elusive y/n y/l/n never gets jealous,” rafe played along , kissing you gently as his hand slid further up your thigh, “but i do.”
“what do you mean?” you hummed , moving your lips to kiss at his face and the side of his neck now.
“saw the bartender making eyes at you,” rafe murmured , sighing at the last kiss you planted right behind his ear, “the help was eyeing you.”
“it’s the twenty-first century , rafe. we don’t call them the help anymore,” you reminded him with a roll of his eyes and another inch of skin discovered by his hand, “and besides , i wasn’t focused on him. i was watching you.”
rafe smiled , heart beating faster when you so openly said that he had your attention. of course as friends , you always let the boys know how much you loved and appreciated them. but this was different. this was just for rafe— no one else.
“you missed our song,” you mumbled into his neck , not wanting him to hear that you were disappointed in your voice.
“i was singing along in my head,” he assured you , running his hand up and down your back.
you sighed , taking in the feeling of his hands on you , the warmth they spread throughout your body. “since i’m not allowed to talk to the bartender , will you go get me another drink , rafey?” you asked sweetly , only shifting your head a little bit to let him hear you clearer. you also translated his earlier jealousy of the bartender to making it clear he didn’t want you around him again. that’s how it usually went.
“whatever you want , kitty,” he agreed , pressing a kiss into your temple before tapping you leg to get you up.
rafe stood as well , now towering over you. his drunken smile making him look even better than he did before. you smiled back at him , batting your lashes before he rolled his eyes and yanked you in for another kiss. “don’t make me wait long,” you warned him , ending the kiss and ushering him to the bar.
happily , you sat back down to wait. your solitary peace was quickly disrupted by kelce and topper flopping down next to you.
“four blowjobs and one fuck! best birthday ever,” topper congratulated himself once again , hair messy and lips swollen.
“you’re such a slut , top,” you laughed , getting more comfortable now that you and rafe were most likely hanging out in the living room for longer, “what did you do pop a v?” you joked , causing both boys to laugh like he had in fact taken a viagra.
“speaking of slut…” kelce began with a cheeky little smile. it said he knew something juicy , and topper was all over it.
“what? who fucked who?” he asked , wanting to know exactly what happened and when and where and why.
kelce laughed , nudging you gently. “miss penthouse over here was mackin’ on our boy,” he sold you out , grinning ear to ear, “thought it would never happen.”
“and i missed it?” topper whined , throwing his head back and resting it on the couch, “i always wanted to be there the day you and rafe got together.”
you frowned at topper , feeling oh so bad for him until you flicked his throat , causing him to sit up straight and cough. “you’re a perv,” you stated, “and you too , kel. didn’t know you liked watching.”
“oh , i’d watch you do just about anything , baby,” he flirted , knowing it would make you roll your eyes. that’s how you and the boys were. they flirted with you jokingly ; you called them pigs. it was your dynamic.
“you’re not watching her do jack shit from now on,” rafe spoke , smacking kelce upside the head as he handed you your full glass. you got up , letting him take his place before falling into his lap.
kelce laughed , dapping his friend up. “man , you know i’m not going anywhere near your girl.”
“excuse me! i’m still a human being,” you interrupted, “actually i’m one of your very few friends. please act accordingly,” you playfully reached out and punched his arm.
“so who’s taking who’s last name?” topper asked , grabbing a beer that was sitting on the table and chugging it. gross.
you grimaced at the sight. “maybe you should focus on not drinking random drinks , t,” you suggested , feeling rafe’s hand creep up your thigh again , drawing small patterns on the plush skin.
“i’m the birthday boy. i can do whatever i want!” topper roared , throwing his hands up in the air triumphantly.
“you’re gonna get roofied one of these days,” you shook your head.
“here’s hoping! it’d probably make my night ten times crazier,” topper laughed , finishing the beer and setting the cup back down.
the four of you sat and chatted for a bit , appreciating the time you weren’t being bothered and you could simply enjoy the party. rafe had been pressing kisses into your skin , making his way from your shoulders to your neck while topper and kelce dove down their own conversation.
“we should go,” he whispered just loud enough for you to hear before nibbling at your ear, “soon.” he lifted his hips up with you still in his lap , making the hard on in his slacks known.
you turned in his grasp , giving him a knowing look. “i don’t hookup with boys on the first night,” you reminded him.
“this isn’t the first night,” rafe corrected you , moving some of your hair out of your face and behind your ear, “i���ve been thinkin’ bout this forever. by myself , with other people , when i’m with you. it’s not the first night for me , and i can guarantee it isn’t for you either.” he made a very fair point.
you hummed , taking it into consideration. “but it’s topper’s birthday,” you reasoned , looking over just as he and kelce went outside to the pool. the blonde jumped in , splashing people with the water before coming up for air and yelling out. the crowd cheered as kelce joined him.
“don’t think he’s too worried bout us leaving,” rafe commented , looking at the way topper already had a girl in his arms to make out with.
you pushed yourself up from rafe’s lap and the couch. rafe scrambled to get up , thinking that you were about to leave without him. “c’mon then,” you spoke , grabbing his hand in yours and leading him away from the party. the closer you got to his car , the quieter everything got. like being with rafe silenced everything else. it did for you.
like always , rafe opened your door for you , letting you get settled into the seat designated for you before shutting the door and getting in himself. it took a decent amount of time to get to the hotel. rafe lived on figure eight , which was the more local side of the island. you lived in your penthouse on the more west side of the island , where all of the tourons got off the ferry and onto the sand.
rafe never minded the drive , knowing it was helping you out. but tonight? he was speeding in an attempt to get there faster.
his hand was gripping your thigh , kneading it in his grip. it slipped under your dress about halfway to your place , pinky finger reaching out to touch the delicate material you wore beneath it. he didn’t do anything more though.
it wasn’t like him , but he wasn’t about to finger bang you in his car. you weren’t that type of girl to him. you weren’t a quick fuck he met at a party. no , you were his girl. and his girl deserved more than that. at least the first time. maybe tomorrow he would suggest it on the way back to his house.
but you had had enough of the teasing and gentle touches. with a roll of your eyes , you unbuckled and shifted in your seat to face rafe entirely. your hand reached over to his own lap , tracing the outline of his boner.
“and what’re you doing?” rafe questioned with a smirk, “hm?”
“it’s a long drive , and i’m bored,” you answered plainly , undoing his belt and pulling the zipper of his slacks down, “so i wanna kill some time. that okay?” you looked at him with those big eyes , and he had this exact dream not that long ago , so of course he wasn’t going to say no. especially not when you were already pulling him out of his briefs.
“do whatever you want to me , kitty cat. m’all yours,” he nodded , thrusting his hips up involuntarily when your hand started pumping him.
you hummed contentedly , leaning over the center console to take the tip of him into your mouth. you pressed a sweet kiss to it first , licking your lips clean of the precum he was dripping with , and when rafe whined , you knew you would do this every day of your life moving forward if you could.
you sucked at the tip , hand still moving up and down in tandem with the suction before slowly taking more of him in. you didn’t mind the fact that his hips shifted up every once in a while , forcing you to take him further. you liked it , liked knowing he couldn’t control his body.
“fuck , baby. mouth feels fuckin’ perfect,” rafe moaned out , removing one of his hands from the wheel to the hem of your dress. he flipped it up , exposing your panties to the ac of his car before his fingers trailed down to your center , feeling the wet patch that had taken property of the material.
you moaned when his fingers applied pressure , encouraging you to take him down your throat entirely. your nose brushed against the hair at the base and your throat contracted around his cock , almost causing you to gag before you hummed and pulled off of him. your hand kept up its ministrations , spreading your spit around as you twisted your wrist , earning a solid smack on your ass.
maybe he would fuck you in the car.
“want you to cum in my mouth , rafey,” you admitted , looking at him through your watery lashes for just a moment of eye contact before going back down to his lap and swallowing him again.
“keep going then , baby. so close,” rafe groaned , pulling your underwear to the side to truly feel you, “got yourself all worked up just from sucking my dick?” it almost came out humorously , but it wasn’t that. rafe was just so gobsmacked that you were this wet from a few touches and kisses.
you hummed again around him , bobbing your head up and down fast , taking him all the way each time. it was a lot , but it wasn’t anything you weren’t completely willing to handle.
“fuck , fuck,” he grunted , removing his fingers from your needy clit to reach the top of your head. he didn’t push you down any further , just held you there for a moment. “gonna cum , baby. you gonna swallow it all for me like a good girl?”
you nodded around him , feeling the first few drops of his release land on your tongue before the rest came flooding your mouth. you tried to pull back , needing more room in your mouth for the load he was dispositing there , but he held you head firm. “stay right there,” he moaned , the after shocks of his orgasm hitting as his cum started to spill from your mouth and run down the length of him.
you blinked away the tears and did your best to breath through your nose until he let go of you. his hand returned to you , rubbing and gripping at your ass. you immediately pulled yourself off of him , gasping and swallowing his cum before leaning over again to lick him clean.
“fuck! you’re so good,” rafe laughed , guiding your head up as he came to a red light. he adjusted himself back into his pants before looking over to you. your mascara had started to run a little , roughing up the sleek edge you always tried to maintain. you had spit dribbling down your chin that you were wiping at. “prettiest thing in the obx,” he added , moving to press a kiss to you lips.
you whined into the kiss , shifting to be as close to him as possible. “drive faster,” you said against his lips , needing him now more than ever.
just like that , the light turned green , and you both thanked the universe. that was a good sign.
the light wasn’t too far from your place , so the drive was only a few more minutes. during that time , you readjusted yourself , conjuring up your image again like it was nothing. you didn’t even look like you just took rafe’s cock down you throat. luckily , that was the goal. you didn’t want you mom to find out from the concierge that her daughter was a whore who gave boys road head before taking them up to your suite and having your way with them.
no , she wouldn’t approve.
soon enough , rafe was parking in your designated parking spot near the entrance of the hotel. he didn’t waste any time before jumping out and rushing to let you out of the truck as well. you kissed him politely when he did out of thanks.
your hands found each other again as you lead him inside the hotel. he had been there hundreds of times , but the adrenaline running through his veins and straight to the tent in his pants was different. he wasn’t coming over to hang out with you or to pick you up. he was staying over because you had finally kissed him. after years of wanting you and pushing that greed to the side , he had you. you were his.
and no , neither of you said it , but you both always knew. you more subconsciously than him. he was painfully aware of his feelings for you , and he was okay with waiting. because look at where it got him.
a hello from the front desk and a sloppy makeout in the private elevator later you were entering your home.
you walked into the kitchen , knowing rafe would either follow you or go straight to your room. you grabbed a couple of water bottles and headed to the bedroom , which rafe did choose over the kitchen.
“making yourself at home?” you chuckled , setting the waters down on your bedside table as you took in the sight of rafe getting comfortable in your bed.
“what? you gonna kick me out?” he laughed with you as you made your way to him , crawling up the bed to straddle him.
“never,” you whispered , leaning in to kiss him again. this one was the softest of them all , the slowest more sensual one of the night.
rafe’s hands found purchase on your hips , pushing your down into his own for friction. you both groaned at the feeling , not breaking the kiss.
“you done talkin’ to girls at parties?” you asked him , pulling away and swirling your hips as your hands rubbed at his chest.
his eyes were closed , head fallen back in the satin pillows. “never liked ‘em anyway,” he nodded , fingers tightening on your waist when you moved just right.
“i mean it,” you reiterated , slowing your movements.
“me too,” rafe assured you , sitting up and holding onto you, “they were never you. never could be,” he whispered , kissing you gently again before flipping you over, “you done flirting with bartenders?”
“i never have,” you giggled as he nipped at your neck , grinding his hips into yours.
“then i think we can agree , it’s just me and you,” rafe’s voice came out shaky— whether it was the nerves of exclusivity or the way you felt under him.
your smile widened as you tilted your head. “is the big bad rafe cameron asking me somethin’?” you teased him as he pulled away to look at you.
“kitty,” he began , his own smile forming if it ever truly left. you bit your lip in anticipation. you knew rafe , knew he couldn’t ask you what he wanted.
“it’s fine , rafe,” you nodded meekly, “promise.”
and ignoring the pinch in your stomach , you pulled him back in for a kiss that he dodged to make his mark on your body.
“sorry” he mumbled into your skin , biting and sucking at your neck down to your collarbone, “i wanna. i promise,” he spoke so softly , moving lower and lower down your chest, “but you know you’re my girl , right?” he looked up at you as he slid your dress up to your stomach. his fingers traced the hem of your underwear , causing you to take a deep breath in. “right?” he echoed , hooking his fingers to pull them down your legs.
“yeah,” you nodded , waiting for him to touch you again. his kisses started on your thighs , holding them open as he moved your legs over his shoulders.
“good girl using your words,” he chuckled , sticking his tongue out and swiping it through your folds once slowly before sucking your clit into his mouth. your head fell back , jaw open to let out a whiney moan , one you’d been holding in all night.
you knew about rafe and his experience. you knew because you were best friends who told each other everything. with that in mind , you had no clue he ate pussy like a starved man , like you were oxygen and he had been underwater for too long.
when he slid a finger into you , you tensed up a little , not expecting the stretch yet. “relax , baby,” he chastised you , diving back in to mouth at your clit to get you to let your muscles untense. and god , it felt good. too good.
“fuck , fuck! rafe , stop. stop , stop,” you rushed out , pushing his head away from you , and he immediately pulled away and sat up.
“what’s wrong?” he worried , searching your face for anything.
you giggled , pulling him in to kiss you. “i want you to fuck me,” you told him , hand going to the tent in his pants again, “that’s what we came here for , right? so fuck me so i can come on your cock,” you whispered in his ear.
the man didn’t waste any time. he tore his pants off , slipping out of his shit just as fast while you undressed yourself , giggling the whole time.
“what’re you laughin’ at , kitty?” rafe asked despite chuckling with you as he found his way back on top of you. he left his hand guide himself to your entrance , promptly stopping any laughter coming from your lips. he slid his cock through your folds , up and down until you were whining.
“rafey…” you sighed , using your leg hooked around his hips to pull him closer.
and he couldn’t deny you any longer. not with that look on your face. not with the cadence of your voice. not with how wet you were. as rafe slid himself in , completely to the hilt , you both groaned in sync. he paused , stilling inside of you to give you both a second. lord knows he needed one. “you okay , baby?” he asked gently , kissing at your neck. he still hadn’t moved , breathing deep.
“mhm , want you to fuck me,” you nodded , maneuvering to kiss him on the lips. your tongues fought for dominance as you made out , rafe’s hips starting to move.
his thrusts were harsh— deep and hard. the type that forced moans out of your mouth with each one. your head thrown back gave rafe the chance to mark your neck more. he grunted in your ear , hot breath hitting your skin as he gripped so tight on your hips he was sure there would be bruises there too.
“you’re so fucking perfect,” rafe moaned , holding himself up to fully look at you, “pretty fuckin’ kitty , wanting me to fuck you so bad , huh?” he was smiling the whole time. he moved around , sitting back and pulling your legs together. he kissed at your calves , slamming into your faster harder than before.
your mouth was left open , moans and whines and borderline screams flying out freely. “fuck! so fucking deep , rafe. feels so good,” you babbled , hands gripping the sheets in your hands.
“yeah? you like that , baby?” he grunted , wetting his thumb with his tongue before moving it to rub at your clit in time with his thrusts, “squeezin’ me so tight,” he moaned , letting his head drop back in ecstasy just for a moment before focusing again.
“i’m so close! right there , right fucking there!” you alerted him , hands coming up to grab at your tits.
“ahh , that’s it,” rafe hissed , not changing a thing he was doing, “cum on my cock , baby. fucking cum for me.”
his words only helped throw you off the edge. you squealed , moving you legs down from his shoulders in an attempt to get away from his assaults as you came down.
rafe didn’t stop though. no , he just grabbed your thighs and yanked you back toward him , continuing to fuck himself into you throughout your high. it was when your moans turned from pleasure to the smallest amount of pain from the overstimulation that he pulled out.
breathing heavy , your eyelids dropped as you tried to come back to reality. that idea was short lived as rafe flipped you onto your stomach.
“i’m not done yet , baby,” he warned you , adjusting the way your body was splayed on the bed. once he had you the way he wanted , he straddled your thighs. he jerked himself off a couple of times and sheathed himself back inside you.
your body welcomed him with ease , letting him slide into you with no push back at all. “fuck,” you groaned , burying your face in and holding onto your pillows.
rafe took that as a sign you were ready and began fucking into you again. he didn’t hold back this time , using your body the way he wanted. but there was a certain moan you heard come from his lips along with a stutter of his hips that reminded you he wasn’t wearing a condom.
your hand flew back to his hips , pushing him out of you before you rolled yourself onto your back. “come on my face,” you blurted , panting with him. he ran a hand down with a groan his face before shifting up your body. his thighs pushing your tits up as he jerked himself off in front of you.
your hand replaced his , still wanting to be the reason he finished. you stuck your tongue out and closed your eyes when the first few drops hit your skin , squeezing a little more until he was coming completely undone.
“fuck , kitty. yes , yes , yes,” he whimpered , gripping the back of your head and bringing your mouth to his dick again, “take it just like that. yeah,” he grunted , cock twitching in your mouth as you drained him.
when rafe felt like he could move again , he shifted to the side , clambering off of you. “fuck!” he panted with a laugh , placing his hands on the side of your cum covered face and kissing you. you moaned into it , tasting both him and you on your tongues.
he pulled away and slid off the bed , leaving you to go into your bathroom. you were left on the bed , eyes closed and chest rising and falling. the silence was deafening , only being able to hear your breathing and a high pitched ringing.
“rafe , will you grab—“
“i gotcha,” rafe assured you , coming back into the bedroom with a wash cloth and your makeup removed, “c’mere.”
you pushed yourself up , and rafe sat next to you. he gently wiped at the white stains on your face , making sure to get all of it off. “prettiest girl in kildare. i’ll say it for the rest of my life,” he cooed , boyish grin on his face as he finished getting the last of cum. you peeked one eye open with a smile to look at him , checking if he was done.
rafe wasn’t looking at you when you checked , too busy pulling out a makeup wipe , so you shut your eyes again , waiting patiently as the blush started to creep up on your cheeks. “oh , kitty. no blushin’ after all of that!” he teased you , starting to remove the makeup on your face.
“m’not,” you huffed , smile breaking back out on your swollen lips.
“you’ve always been a shit liar,” rafe muttered , shaking his head as he got the last of your makeup, “there. now you’re even prettier.” his compliment was sealed with a kiss while you rolled your eyes.
“will you pass me the water?” you croaked , realizing how dry your throat was after you tried to swallow.
he nodded , grabbing both bottles. he unscrewed one , handing it to you before opening his own and chugging more than half of it. you let out a short laugh at the sight , sipping on your own.
“still know where you’re clothes are at?” you asked him , assuming he was staying the night and not wearing the dress pants and shirt while he did so.
“don’t need ‘em,” he shrugged , climbing under the covers before dragging you back with him.
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a/n lol i stay lying to y’all bout when n what im finna post:) but comment to be added to this taglist! <3
459 notes · View notes
trashytracktales · 3 days ago
Note
Hey! Please do a lando x ex!reader. They break up after a lot of arguments due to being away from each other so much and then they meet a few months later and hook up. Like angst in the beginning then lots of smut.
If it's meant to fall apart | LN⁴
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💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── I was actually planning to write something similar for so long. Thank you for the request and I hope you like it 🤍
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𐙚 summary ──── Surprisingly, months apart haven’t dulled the connection between them. After a night of passion and honesty on both sides, maybe there is a future where they can make all the right decisions, after all.
𐙚 pairing ──── Lando Norris x ex!reader
𐙚 rating ──── explicit
𐙚 category ──── F/M
𐙚 warnings ──── +18, mature/sexual content, lots of angst & back-and-forth, fluff & smut, teasing, praising, explicit language, unprotected sex, mention of alcohol and drinking, swearing, not the healthiest relationship I've ever written tbh (the toxicity is implicit tho), overstimulation, pussy-drunk Lando, Max F. & Ethan aka FEEFA cameo.
𐙚 word count ──── 10.6k (Thank you to everyone who voted on this poll I posted the other day, I didn’t expect to see so many 🥺).
𐙚 date ──── Nov. 27, 2024
𐙚 a/n ──── Guys, look. I know it's A LOT 🥴 I kinda let myself run with this one because I haven't posted anything in like a week or so. I still have 2 requests I'm working on, so don't give up on me yet 🤞🏻
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﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
SHE'S NOT ENTIRELY sure how long they’ve been dancing, but she hasn't finished her drink yet. Time feels like an illusion, blurring the edges of her vision with every new rhythm of the night. For the first time in months, she feels a little lighter, her friends’ energy pulling her out of her own head — and apartment, where she locked herself in after the break-up.
The club is packed tonight, bodies pressed together in a sea of drunken, sweaty chaos. Neon lights bounce off every surface, painting the room in vivid purples, blues, and pinks. It's not usually her style — not anymore — but she figured it won't hurt to let lose for a couple of hours.
It’s only when she steps away from the dance floor, her feet hurting and her head buzzing, that she spots him.
Why tonight, of all nights?
Why here, of all places?
Why him, of all people?
He’s leaning casually against the bar, a glass in hand, chatting with a few familiar faces. Faces that she can't help but miss.
She stopped talking to Max — well, Max stopped talking to her after ending things with Lando, too upset that she toyed with his best friend's heart for ‘no apparent reason’. Their friendship dissolved under pressure, fragile as a cheap plastic cup in the grip of sulfuric acid. But Max wasn't the only one who took it personally. That's why she needed to cut ties with everyone from her past. She needed new friends — her own friends —, she needed a new place and new clothes, and to rebrand herself from scratch. Which she did.
She thought she had made it through, but the past has its twisted ways of coming back when you least expect it.
Now, the sight of him, so vivid and real, makes her chest tighten.
She stops in place, hoping he doesn’t notice her, but then his eyes flick in her direction and, for a brief moment, neither of them blinks, the noise around them fading into a dull murmur.
He straightens slightly, his relaxed posture gone as his brows knit together. There’s something unreadable in his body language — surprise? Excitement? Confusion? Pain? She doesn’t know, but it mirrors the knot twisting in her stomach.
Her friends call out to her, pulling her attention briefly, and when she looks back, he’s still staring. Except now, he’s moving, weaving his way through the crowd toward her.
Oh, hell no.
Her heart starts to race, a mix of adrenaline and something far more complicated than fear, as she rushes to walk away; she's fought for far too long, and now her instinct is to fly as soon as she senses danger.
Unfortunately, she's not quick enough.
“Hey,” says Lando when he gets closer, his voice low but audible over the music.
Hearing him gives her goosebumps, hating the way her body is betraying her. It’s been months since she’s heard his voice, but it still hits her the same way: sharp and unrelenting.
She turns around, forcing a smile, “Hi, Lando,” she manages, her voice steadier than she feels, thinking she should try acting if she makes it out alive from this encounter.
“Can I buy you a drink?” he asks, his tone careful, yet extremely suggestive.
It makes her stomach twist again.
He used that line the very first night they met, his boyish grin lit by the dim, flickering lights of another club, in another city. Potentially another life, she's not sure. She remembers the way he had leaned in, so full of confidence and asked the same exact question with a mischievous glint in his eye.
It feels too deliberate now, too heavy with the weight of their past for her to ignore.
“All set,” she finally says, her voice quieter than she intended, as she raises her half-full glass in her hand. “Thanks.”
For a moment, it feels like they’re strangers meeting for the first time. Except they’re not, and their history is hanging heavily in the air between them.
Lando nods, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets, “How about this, let me join you for that drink?”
She takes a look to where her friends are dancing, then she turns back to him, “I'm here with my friends.”
It's a pathetic excuse, she knows that. But she has no time to think of something else. Not when her brain is suddenly all scrambled and can't form a single coherent thought.
Lando frowns, disappointed, but not willing to give up that easy. “Come on, just a quick catch-up and then you can go back to your friends. Mine won't mind,” he shrugs, pointing at the bar, where the others are following their every move like a bunch of curious minions.
She catches Max lifting his glass in her direction, and Ethan, waving frantically.
Against her better judgment, she nods.
“Okay,” she murmurs, “Let's catch up,” she spits the words, sounding a bit too sarcastic. Still, it makes Lando smile.
His shoulders relax slightly, relief softening the tension in his body. He gestures toward a quieter corner of the club, away from the pounding bass and the sea of bodies. His first instinct was to take her hand in his, but since that's over the line, Lando keeps looking back, making sure she follows him. And she does. Like a naive, lost puppy that hasn't learned a single thing in the past five months, apparently.
The crowd surges around them, chaotic and loud, and before she can react, someone stumbles into her, their elbow catching her arm. As a result, she's thrown off balance, her feet slipping on the slick floor. Gasping, she's bracing for the inevitable fall that… never comes.
Lando’s hand shoots out, catching her waist and pulling her upright. His grip is firm, grounding, and suddenly she’s pressed against him, her chest brushing his.
“Careful,” says Lando, his lips close enough to her ear for the voice to cut through the noise.
The spot where he's touching her is burning her skin. She looks up, speaking with a hesitant smile, “Thanks, I'm good.”
The club around them fades away, and all she can feel is the warmth of his hand on her waist and the familiar scent of his cologne — a smell she used to know so well. It is almost intoxicating, and it makes her mouth water. She realizes that's what she was missing the most.
Lando smiles faintly, his hand slipping away as if he’s reluctant to let go. “Always got you.”
She doesn’t know how to respond to that, sensing the double meaning behind his affirmation. So, she nods and lets him guide her the rest of the way.
They find a small, semi-private booth near the exit, far enough from the main dance floor that the music dulls to a manageable volume. He gestures for her to sit first, then slides in across from her.
She fiddles with the edge of her glass, feeling his eyes on her.
“So,” she starts, leaning back against the booth, “You're here.”
Here, as in back home.
“For a week or so, yeah. Got a bit of a break between Brazil and Vegas.”
She nods, emptying the rest of her drink in one go, “How’ve you been?”
Lando shrugs slowly, “Alright. Busy with work and everything,” he trails off, his gaze dropping to her lips for a brief moment. “It’s not the same,” he continues, his smile fading away. “What about you, what have you been up to?”
She needs superhuman powers to stop herself from scoffing in his pretty face. It’s such a simple question, yet it feels loaded, heavy with all the things they haven’t said to each other in almost half a year.
“It's been… peaceful. I moved to another neighborhood. Kept busy, distracted.”
Lando hums, his expression unreadable for some reason. “Yeah, I get that. You look great, by the way,” he states it as a fact, his voice soft but unwavering.
She hesitates, then looks up at him, really looks at him. His face is the same and yet… not really. The boyishness is still there, but there’s a weariness in his eyes that's somehow new. Plus some facial hair she always begged him to try out. It tugs at something inside her, something she’s not sure she’s ready to face. Because it hurts. Because it annoys her. Because, after everything, she's still not over it.
“Cheers,” she replies, hoping he won't catch the blush in her cheeks. “I kind of hoped you would look like shit when I saw you again,” she admits. “You know, I'm talking no front teeth and severely balding. But, oh well. You too.”
Lando's smile widens, making everything infinitely worse for her.
He wears a black shirt that clings to his frame in a way that highlights the muscles in his arms. His black cap is pulled low, worn backwards in that signature way he always did, giving him that effortlessly cool vibe. His eyes are still the same, though. Dark, piercing, the same ones that could make her heart beat faster even after everything that’s happened.
“I thought about you a lot over these months, you know,” Lando finds himself saying, chewing on his lower lip.
She shoots him a surprised look.
As if, she thinks. His Instagram feed would say otherwise.
“You did?” she ends up asking, curiosity getting the best of her.
A hint of vulnerability creeps into his voice, “Of course. I've missed you.”
She laughs dryly, “But it's been good for us, right? We just established we both look great, no constant fighting, no slamming doors, no smashed phones…” she says, looking at him intently.
He can't sustain that for long, so he looks down at his shoes, slightly ashamed, remembering how bad it used to get when the distance between them felt too much to handle. He remembers the frustration, and the helplessness he felt when he couldn’t reach her, because he couldn’t make things right. He did smash his phone once, in a fit of anger, because he couldn’t get ahold of her for hours — not his proudest moment, that's for sure.
Lando swallows hard, “Yeah, it has been nice to have some distance. I guess it makes the heart grow fonder, right?”
“Hmm,” she hums, letting her eyes travel across the room, scanning random faces and wondering how life would be if she were someone else, “I don't know about that.”
She knows, in fact. But the words pause in her throat, too tangled up in memories. When he finally looks up, she's holding his gaze for just a beat longer than she should, and she wonders if he can feel it too — that familiar pull, like gravity, drawing them back together once again.
“I know—” Lando begins, not sure from which angle to approach. “I know it was the right choice at the time, but I can't help but wonder what things could have been if I'd fought harder for you.”
“Come on, Lando,” she laughs, unamused, giving her head a shake, “We would've ended up in another vicious circle, no matter what. It's always like that with us, isn't it?”
A part of him knows she's right. Still, “We'll never know.”
“Well, maybe it's better that way,” she manages, her voice lacking conviction.
“Or maybe it’s not,” he contradicts her, his words carrying a weight that presses on both of them. “You never think about us?”
Another sharp, dry laugh — it's either this, or she'll start crying. “I am actively trying not to,” she admits, her tone tinged with exasperation. “What’s the point, Lan? Thinking about what could’ve been won’t change what happened. You were always gone, and I couldn't spend my life following you around like a headless chicken. We had a good time, but it was never going to last,” she says the last part mostly as a reminder for herself. “Not in those circumstances.”
His jaw tightens. “You think it was easy for me? That it didn’t tear me up knowing I couldn’t be there for you the way you wanted me to?”
“I didn't say that,” her eyes snap to his, “We simply weren't working. We were too good at breaking each other.”
Lando leans back in his chair, frustration visible on his face. He hates that she's right, but it doesn’t stop the ache in his chest.
His jaw clenches, “I just… I don’t want to believe that’s all we were. Breaking each other.”
Her expression softens a little at his words, “Not all. But enough to make us miserable.”
For a while, the air between them feels heavier, the noise fading into the background. He wants to say something, anything, to counter her point, but all he can do is look at her and ask himself if they were, indeed, playing a losing game back then.
“Did you meet someone?” his question flies out of nowhere.
Lando looks at her with anticipation, sensing the hesitation.
“I did,” she replies, nodding slowly.
“And?”
She meets his eyes for a split second before looking away again, fixing her gaze somewhere on the table. “And we're happily married with twins on the way. What do you think? I just. Couldn’t.”
Lando's stomach drops, trying his best to remain calm, his hands clenching into fists. “You couldn’t what? Be with them?”
She shakes her head, her movements slow and deliberate, as if choosing her words carefully. “It was too soon.”
Her answer only leaves him with more questions. “So, what does that mean?”
“I don’t know what it means,” she rushes to say, her tone tinged with irritation. It’s clear she’s as unsure as he is, but that only makes it harder for Lando to process her reaction.
He runs a hand over his face, his exasperation bubbling to the surface. “I’m just trying to understand,” he says, his voice quieter but no less intense. “Because I've also tried.”
She looks directly at him now, her eyes narrowing slightly. “And?” she challenges in the same manner, her tone carrying just a hint of defiance.
“They weren't you,” says Lando, the truth of his statement hanging between them like a heavy anchor.
They remain silent after that.
She wants to ask him why — why he still cares, and why it hurts so much to be in the same space again after all they’ve been through. Nothing comes out, though; she already has the answer to that. They didn't break up because they stopped loving each other. They had both been too caught up in their own worlds to find any kind of balance. That broke them up.
He wants her to speak. He needs to hear her speak. To react. But when she says nothing in return, there is a brief second when he feels like giving up for good; he can't do anything if she's already made a decision. He knows how stubborn she is.
Lando nods to himself while getting up and start walking toward the exit, his thoughts all over the place.
The night air greets them with a quiet, cooling embrace as they step out of the club. Of course she follows, and she hates herself for that. But she can't help it — it's instinct. Like a magnetic force he's always had over her.
On the other hand, it's how they always communicated, through gestures and actions rather than words.
The soft click of her heels against the pavement gives Lando hope. He slows down so she can catch up, and then they walk side by side, without talking. The background noise of the city keeps them company, and by the time she decides to break the silence, he stops abruptly.
His voice sounds so small now, like a child asking his parents why can't he eat his chocolate bar before dinner.
“I know it feels so silly looking back,” says Lando, as though afraid to shatter the superficial peace between them. “We did so many things wrong, but I think we also did a lot of things right.”
She hesitates, her eyes dropping to the ground where a patch of light from a distant street light catches the edge of her shoe. Her arms fold tightly across her chest, while trying to look anywhere but at him.
“Yeah, breaking up was one of the right things,” she says thoughtfully, though her voice has a trace of bitterness behind it. “Before that, we tried so hard to make it work that we ended up burning each other alive.”
It's crazy how simple words can cause physical pain so quickly.
“Yet we're still here,” he reminds her. “Knowing what we know now, maybe we wouldn’t burn so fast this time. And isn’t it worth it, even if it only lasts for a little while? We were so happy at the start.”
That’s what he clings to. The laughter, the stolen moments, the way they fit together so effortlessly — she can’t argue with that. Their beginning was a beautiful dream, but it’s the nightmare that followed that keeps her guarded now, even though all she wants is to crack his ribcage open and slip inside him so they will never be apart again.
Her voice shakes as she tries her best to make him see her side, the memories spilling out like water breaking through a dam. “I had to put myself back together, Lando. Piece by piece. And I was all alone.” She forces herself to meet his gaze, finally, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. “Turns out, our friends were actually your friends, and I had to go through the worst breakup of my life with no one by my side. I had to move, I had to build an entire life from pretty much nothing. And I had to do everything alone, because I didn’t just lose you. I lost everything the moment I made you the center of my universe.”
Her words knock the air out of his lungs, guilt clawing at his insides. “Look, I know I should have been there,” says Lando, his voice barely steady. “Fuck me. I wasn’t supposed to let you go in the first place, alright? I should’ve been a better boyfriend, and I should’ve fought harder to make it work, using what we had then. But you did fuck with my head, and I thought being away would help.”
The first tear spills down her cheek, and she wipes it away hastily, as if she could erase the vulnerability altogether.
“It did help,” she agrees. “I know I can live without it now.”
Lando freezes for a split second, then stepping dangerously closer to her. “So, you’ll be fine if we stay broken up?” he asks, his voice almost a whisper.
She nods, but it’s shaky. And when she takes a step back, trying to put distance between them, Lando decides he gave her enough space. Fuck that. He's not thinking anymore, not with his brain, at least. He closes the distance again, his hands finding her waist and pulling her close in one swift motion.
It’s impulsive, desperate even. But he doesn’t care. The moment he feels her presence in his personal space, the fire he’s tried to smother for months, roars back to life, more powerful than ever. And just like that, everything it's right again. The way her body fits against his, the familiarity of it all, makes his heart race in his chest.
“Stop being so fucking stubborn, baby,” he murmurs into her hair, his voice cracking under the weight of his own desperation. “Why can’t we at least try, hm? You told me it was too soon for someone else. Maybe it’s because it’s supposed to be me.”
Her breath catches at the sudden closeness, at the rawness of his voice. She's unsure of what to do with her hands, until they hover awkwardly by his shoulders.
“You're not fair,” she whispers, her voice slightly trembling. “You can’t just accidentally waltz back into my life and say things like that.”
“I don’t give a flying fuck about being fair,” he says, his voice firm. “I just want us back. Simple as that.”
Her tears blur the edges of Lando's face when she tries to push him away, but his grip won't let her. Not this time.
“It's not that simple, and you know it,” she says. “We’ll only end up hurting each other again.”
“Then we hurt, so what?” he counters, his voice soft but sure. “At least we’ll know we tried until there wasn't anything worth fighting for. I'm not done with you, baby. Are you?”
Her hands finally move, trembling as they brush against his cheeks. They're not as soft as they use to be, his little facial hair scratching slightly at the pads of her fingers. The connection sends a jolt through them both as her touch lingers, trailing up to his hair. She pulls at his cap with both hands, placing it on her own head with a weak smile.
“It’s longer than you used to wear it,” she notices, her tears catching the street lights.
Lando’s heart clenches, managing to shoot a small smile in return, “I thought maybe I’d try growing it out. Do you like it?”
“I love it,” she admits as she tries to messily style his hair with her fingers. “It suits you.”
For a little while, they’re trapped in their own bubble. Her touch feels like home, and all Lando can think of is that he can't lose it again.
“I’m not asking you to decide now,” he finally says, his thumbs tracing soft circles on her waist. “I just need to know I’m not the only one still holding on.”
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TWENTY MINUTES LATER, they're stumbling into her apartment. She knows it's reckless, and she's basically throwing away five months of progress, but it wasn't going to last, anyway.
Addictions are very hard to keep under control, especially when they have curly, dark hair and give you bed eyes.
“This way,” she says, her lips swollen from kissing all the way to her door.
Lando doesn’t have time to adjust, his head already spinning with hundreds of scenarios that fly tirelessly through his mind. However, the only thing that captivates him at the moment is her, and the way her fingers curl into the waistband of his jeans. She tugs him closer, her lips crashing onto his once again, their breaths blending in a frantic exchange of need and uncertainty.
He watches her fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, her movements clumsy but determined. His heart reaches his throat, swallowing hard, as his hands move from her waist to his belt, blindly unbuckling it before tossing it carelessly aside. The sound of leather hitting the floor barely registers over the erratic, overlapping rhythm of them kissing.
Then, he sees it. The spark in her eyes she used to have when she looked at him — it catches him off guard, giving him hope. He follows her as she moves slowly, her back toward the bed, her movements precise, like a cat's. She lies down, propping herself up on her elbows, while he takes cautious steps closer, his shirt hanging open to reveal his chest and toned abs.
But just as he leans forward, her high heel presses lightly against his chest, stopping him.
Lando freezes, his hands bracing on either side of her foot, tracing his palm up and down her leg, as his eyes dart up to meet hers.
“You can look,” she says, catching a glimpse of confusion in his eyes. “But for now, no touching.”
He frowns, clenching his jaw at her request. It would make sense for her to bring him to her place only to torture him, but she can't be that heartless. Right? The sight of her, stretched out on the bed with her foot holding him at bay, is almost too much to handle already.
“You're not fair,” he mutters under his breath, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“I don't give a flying fuck about being fair,” she repeats his words from earlier, her foot staying firm against his chest.
The power is in her hands, and she's planning on using them properly tonight.
“No touching,” she repeats, determined.
Lando's hands fall at his sides.
Slowly, she slides her foot down, letting it drag across his chest, making a quick stop on his lower abdomen before settling on the bed. Her gaze locks onto his, a daring glint in her eyes as she spreads her legs, revealing the black lace panties. The dress she's wearing lifts up her thighs of its own accord, leaving Lando chocking on air for a brief moment. His lips part as she trails her fingers down her own body, teasing herself the way she’s done countless nights before.
Nights when he wasn’t there.
Nights when she was alone, chasing a high only his touch could give her.
“Wanna see how I got through five months without you?” she asks, her hands traveling way down, hooking her fingers to pull at the soft material.
His breath hitches, the sight of her undressing before him so painfully slowly making his chest ache with longing and guilt.
“I thought of you,” she continues, letting a small whimper out when the soft lace peels off with a little resistance from her already soaked pussy. “Your hands, your mouth… the way you sound when you're turned on,” she discards the panties at the foot of the bed, her breath catching in her throat as she glances at him through her lashes. “Such a delicious combination between your sleepy voice and that low octave you hit when you're drunk.”
Lando’s mouth goes dry, his hands twitching at his sides, itching to lean over and collect the material off the floor to stuff it into his pocket as a souvenir. He’s never felt so powerless and yet so utterly consumed by someone before.
“Will you let me?” she asks, her lips curving into a smile that’s equally wicked and vulnerable, “Show you?”
Her name leaves Lando’s lips in a protest while he takes an instinctive step forward, but she stops him with her foot once again. It’s a punishment, and he knows it. She’s showing him exactly what he missed, and exactly how she wanted him for so long.
Lando's breath is shallow, his chest rising and falling as he watches her. Helpless. His every nerve is tuned to her, eyes following how her fingers slide so easily between her folds, spreading the wetness as she teases her hole. Of course she’s taking her time with it, only to make sure he registers every tiny detail, just in case he forgot.
Her head tilts to the side with a quiet gasp when she pushes slowly inside. The sound of her wet entrance is enough to make his knees weak, still, his body turns to stone.
On the other hand, his heart is a mess of pride and frustration — pride that she still feels comfortable to be this vulnerable and open in front of him, frustration that he has to see her like this, untouchable. That's why he's not even blinking, too afraid he'll miss a thing.
She starts to gently rock her hips against the bed, fucking her fingers in and out, her body trembling as her whimpers fill the room. It's too much for Lando, but luckily, she didn't say anything about moving. His legs finally give out, and he falls to his knees, the sound of his breath ragged and uneven as he gets closer to her.
Yes, she's in charge — for now, at least — but he can't stop his words slipping out. Quiet, yet demanding.
“Slower,” he says, fixing his eyes on the way her fingers slide over her clit. “Don't rush it, please. I want to see all of you.”
Her gaze meets his, and for a moment, neither of them says anything else. She sees the vulnerability etched into his features, the way his body betrays him, shaking with restraint, completely at her mercy.
He looks like a man unmoored, defeated. So beautiful.
“Lando…” she breaths heavily, her back arching against her own hand, that flattered slightly at his words, a blush creeping up her neck and cheeks.
She hates how much he still affects her, obeying him without questioning his ways. Like no time has passed whatsoever.
When they make eye contact again, it's like they silently agree to go with it; whatever tonight will bring.
“That's is,” says Lando with satisfaction as she resumes her movements. “You gorgeous little thing. So beautiful when you listen, yeah?”
She nods, feeling him leaning forward just slightly, close enough that she can feel his warmth on her skin, without him touching her in any way. The air feels electric, her breath stuttering as she keeps fucking up her fingers under Lando's careful guidance. He watches every motion, his jaw tightening, ignoring the ache in his boxers the moment she finds her sweet spot, crying at how good it feels. She tries to muffle the moan, but Lando catches the hesitation, his eyes narrowing in her direction.
“No, let me hear you. Please, let me hear you,” he implores, exhaling sharply. “God, you're perfect. I could watch you forever.”
Lando can't help but notice how receptive she becomes at his words, her body tightening at the way he's praising her. As a result, she presses her fingers harder onto her clit, feeling the pressure building inside.
“Mhm, Lan…”
“I'm with you, baby. Keep going,” he encourages her, his gaze fixating on the slickness dripping between her legs. “Fucking hell. You're already so close, aren't you?”
It's like every word gets caught in her throat, and the only way she can reply to him is with a pathetic, desperate whimper.
In hindsight, she's never came from her fingers so quickly before, but the wave that’s hitting her from every direction right now is too intense to process right away.
It happens too fast, and the next thing she's aware of is Lando's voice, bringing her back.
“Please,” she hears him beg, managing to give him a slight nod of her head in return.
In that moment, the lights go out. Even so, Lando wants to be patient, as his index finger lightly brushes against her warmth. She exhales, giving up control, her gaze locked on him as if he is the only one that ever knew her. Meticulous, Lando traces his long, rough finger through her wetness, causing a shock to run through her whole body as it moves up and down her clit.
She thought she already crossed her limit, but then he leans down to press his mouth on her — deliberately, unapologetically, thirsty.
Lando lets out a deep, guttural groan that reverberates against her, causing her hips to twitch slightly. His tongue is wet and warm on her pulsating clit, leaving her breathless while he tastes her like it's the last time.
“My sweet, sweet baby,” he whispers, his voice intimate and personal, the words enveloping her in layers and layers of honey.
Feeling his warm breath on her center causes a surge of tension within her, making her walls tighten as his tongue explores within. He can't help but smile just as she leans into him, her body responding naturally, and he grips her thighs, closing the remaining gap between them. At that, she instantly buries her fingers in his curls, her hips mimicking his head movements.
“Oh, fuck,” she exhales abruptly.
The rest is pure bliss — his tongue licking in deep strokes, his muffled moans between her thighs, and the way he can’t seem to let go of her, gripping her tightly because he’s been deprived of her taste for so long.
Just for a brief second, Lando raises his head and, as his gaze remains fixed on her eyes, his mouth sucks gently at her clit. She's never seen him so desperate before, the sight of him owning her like that covering her entire body in chills.
Gradually, his kisses become way too powerful, which forces her to quickly grab his messy curls and pull him closer, unable to control herself anymore.
Without any warning, she screams his name as her climax hits her like a tidal wave for the second time in a row.
His growling makes her thighs quiver in his grasp, the vibrations intensifying her pleasure as her body convulses with each new sensation, while Lando’s tongue continues licking her during every heartbeat and shiver.
Next time she looks at him, his lips shine, his cheeks are red, and his gaze so intense that it causes her heart to skip a beat, creating a connection that seems more profound than any physical sensation she's just experienced.
He didn’t try to give her the best she’s ever had, but attempt to remind her how well he knows her body — to show her she still belongs to him.
“You’re so pretty,” says Lando, keeping his eyes on her, while he presses one finger back inside her cunt to test how thight she is after her second orgasm.
“Lando,” she spits his name at the unexpected touch, still too sensitive, “What… are you doing?” she gasps softly, a mixture between a sigh and a moan, when Lando's finger pulls out and glides across her wet, delicate clit once again.
“What do you think I’m doing?” Lando murmurs against her thigh, his voice low and reverent.
He grins in her direction, while his thumb circles her clit with precise intention, like a wheel gripping the perfect racing line. Sure of himself, Lando continues his movements, realizing how overstimulated she is, as he gets up to hover above her. Her hips buck instinctively into his hand, a jolt of reaction she can’t control.
Seeing Lando on top makes her react on instinct, wrapping one arm around his neck, while the other hand travels down his chest. The heat pooling in her stomach rises fast, an apex she didn’t expect to reach so soon. It’s intoxicating, her body spiraling as her mind blanks out the world beyond him.
“Lan—” she gasps, her back arching as if trying to escape, though every fiber of her betrays that she wants more.
“Come on, baby,” he says, increasing the pace. “You can give me one more. You're doing so well, I know you can,” his voice is a blend of dominance and desire, while his fingers press into her, knowing exactly where to go and how to bend, “Like that, see? So easy for me to read you. I could fuck my fingers into your pretty hole all night long and you'd still come for me every single time, wouldn't you, baby?”
Shaking, she clings to his neck, crying out his name in spasms. He loops his free arm around her, gently kissing her cheek — a gesture so tender and innocent that makes her heart grow ten times in size.
She grips his shoulder with one hand, her eyes closing in pleasure. “I can’t—” she chokes, the words tumbling out between ragged breaths.
In an attempt to get her power back, she tries to push at his wrist, but his arm steadies her, determined.
“Of course you can, love,” says Lando, his voice a gentle command, the firmness in his tone like a driver refusing to lift his foot off the pedal, curious to see how far he can take it.
Her hand clenches around his arm as his thumb presses against her clit with ruthless precision. She reacts on instinct, muscles coiling tight as she bucks against his hand, not sure what controls her body anymore, since her brain got disconnected long ago. The slik rhythm of Lando's fingers becomes too much, and she knows she's close when he starts curling them inside at the perfect angle.
“La— Fuck, baby, that feels so good,” her voice is a high-pitched cry now, laced with desperation. “I’m going—”
“I know, baby. So pretty. Look at you, making such a mess for me,” he urges, leaning in to kiss her neck.
Her body tightens as pleasure explodes within her, blinding and all-consumming — a full-throttle sensation, unrelenting in its intensity. She sobs his name as liquid warmth spills from her pussy, coating Lando’s fingers. He doesn’t stop there, though, his hand continuing its pace, coaxing every last wave of her climax as his arm holds her securely against him.
“God, I've missed you.”
When her breathing slows down, he falls down on top of her, burying his head in the crook of her neck. Her legs shake slightly, and her fingers curl weakly into his bare chest as he cradles her close.
Lando presses a tender kiss against her temple, his voice filling the quiet. “It wasn’t acciedntal,” he confesses.
She blinks rapidly, tilting her head to look at him, confused, “What?”
“Earlier,” Lando clarifies, “You said I was accidentally waltzing back into your life — it wasn’t accidental,” he repeats.
“What do you mean?”
Lando places a few more kisses on the heated skin of her neck, sucking in a couple of bruises, the gesture meant to buy himself more time for the storm raging in his head to stop.
“Lando,” she pulls him out of it.
“Been trying to figure out how to do this for a while. I just… couldn’t stay away from you anymore,” he admits, looking up at her, his eyes pleading. “I had Max playing detective while I was away.”
She pushes him off her to sit up on the bed, pulling at the edges of her dress. “Seriously, what?” her tone is not defensive — at least not yet — but there’s a sharpness to it that cuts into him.
“No, I didn’t mean it like that,” he rushes to explain, “Look, I didn’t stalk you or anything. Nor Max,” he continues, getting up to stand next to her. “I didn’t even know where you lived until you brought me here. I swear.”
She wraps her arms around her own body, needing something to ground herself, “What did you do, Lando?” the girl asks, her voice quieter now.
He swallows, “I just asked him to check in on you. To see if you were okay.”
“And how did he do that?”
“He saw you tagged in a pic on this girl's account, and then did some research on the people you were with, paid some dudes to find out if their records were clean—” he starts chuckling when her fist hits his shoulder, playfully, but still with intent.
“Don’t be a dick,” she warns, her smile giving away the fact that she’s still amused by his immature sense of humor.
“I just… didn’t want to simply appear out of nowhere if you were happy. If you’d moved on,” Lando continues, his tone more serious now. “But when he told me you seemed like you hadn’t, I couldn’t keep pretending like I was fine. I'm really not.”
His honesty was always a breath of fresh air, but now it's suffocating. Hearing him admitting he's not okay, implying that she's the reason why, is simply heartbreaking.
Her arms drop slowly to her sides, her fingers gripping the edge of the bed, “Why now, Lando? And why not text or call?”
He scoffs, “Can you look me in the eye and tell me honestly that you would have picked up if I called? Especially given how we left things?”
She cups Lando’s chin in the palm of her hand, forcing him to look at her, “I'll always pick up if it's you.”
The admission makes his chest tighten.
Lando shakes his head, “I promise I’ve tried,” he says, “God, I’ve fucking tried. I threw myself into everything, and nothing worked. Racing, training, sim sessions, going out with the guys — no matter what I did, I was constantly thinking of you. Every night out felt wrong because I wasn’t coming home to you. And I know home is such a vague word for me, because I’m mostly away, but you made every single place feel like home, and that's why it didn't matter where I was at the time. I just needed… need you in ways I can't nor want to explain.”
His confession makes her head spin. The breakup had been difficult for her, but she hadn’t considered how Lando had handled the past five months. All along, she had assumed he wouldn’t miss her — that his life, always on the road and consumed by his own pursuits, was too busy to notice the absence of one small, insignificant detail: her.
She's now realizing how wrong she had been to think that way.
“So…?” she finally asks. “Do you think a few orgasms later can mend what was broken five months ago?”
“What? No, of course not,” he says firmly, leaning forward, his elbows digging into his thighs. “I swear, all I wanted to do tonight was talking to you. I didn’t plan on getting to this point, but I can’t say I’m mad about it,” says Lando, taking her hand in his, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. “You still want me,” she shoots Lando a rapid look, studying his face, “Just like I want you. I see it, I feel it. Baby, I know it.”
Her heart pounds in her chest, the sincerity in his voice cutting through her defenses like a hot knife through butter. She wants to be angry, to accuse him of being selfish, but the truth is, she isn’t. Maybe it’s foolish to believe him, but one thing Lando never did was lie to her. He did worse, yes, but he never lied.
“Lando...” she starts, but her voice trails off, wishing her head would stop spinning so she could think.
“I know I hurt you,” he continues, his voice softer now, “You hurt me. We hurt each other. But we're too good together not to find a way to make it work.”
She doesn’t respond immediately, her mind racing with memories of their past — the good, especially the bad, and everything else in between. Her fingers toy with the fabric of her dress, her eyes flickering between his face and the floor. The room is heavy with silence and, just for a moment, she lets herself believe that maybe, just maybe, they could find each other again.
Otherwise, if it's meant to fall apart, then let it happen with them gasping for air, tangled together, connected in every way imaginable.
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THE MORNING SUN filters shyly through the curtains, soft and golden, spilling across the bed where Lando stirs awake. He’s all alone, the sheets around him rumpled from where she had slept. He blinks up at the ceiling, a little disoriented. Then, he hears the faint sound of running water and realizes she’s in the shower. It makes him feel like everything went back to normal, but he can't be sure of what's going to happen next. He can only speculate and hope, but nothing more than that.
The quiet is interrupted by the persistent buzz of his phone on the nightstand. He reaches for it, still groggy from sleep, scrolling through a handful of texts from last night — banter in the group chat, some Instagram notifications, a few missed calls; nothing too important to catch his eye. He places the phone back on the smooth surface carelessly, and his hand knocks over something solid in the process.
Frowning, he sits up to put it back in its place, and that’s when he sees it — a framed picture of them, taken during a rare quiet weekend in Monaco over a year ago, right at the beginning of their relationship. She looked so happy back then, caught mid-laugh as Lando was gazing at her with an expression so tender that it makes his chest ache now. The weight of the memory hits him harder than he expects, pulling him fully awake.
The sound of the bathroom door opening makes him turn, and he puts the frame back quickly. However, it's enough for her to catch his sudden movement, her eyes flicking to the photo and back to him.
Her cheeks flush a deep pink. “I meant to put that away,” she rushes to say, pulling the towel tighter around her body like it might shield her from the embarrassment.
“Carlos took this one,” his voice is soft, as his eyes shift back to the frame. He picks it up again, turning it in his hands. “You asked me why didn't I call, but… why didn't you call?”
She laughs dryly, crossing the space to take the frame from his and and placing it face down on the nightstand. She sits down next to him, shrugging.
“And tell you what, Lando? That I couldn’t stop thinking about you even though you broke my heart?” she asks, shaking her head, the embarrassment turning into something closer to frustration. “It’s just a stupid picture, anyway. We barely knew each other when it was taken.”
“It’s not stupid,” he contradicts her vehemently. His hand reaches out tentatively, brushing against her soft forearm. “It's nice to know I wasn’t completely crazy for hoping you felt the same.”
Her lips part like she wants to say something, but no words come out. The towel slips slightly, and she clutches it tighter, her defenses crumbling under the weight of his hungry eyes.
“Lando…”
“Leave it there, yeah?” he says, pointing at the picture. “Facing your side of the bed, preferably.”
Seeing her suddenly deep in thought, Lando grabs her wrist and gently pulls her onto his lap, his thumb lightly brushing against her silky skin.
She looks at him, her emotions warring on her face. “If it makes me look less pathetic, it was face down most of the time.”
Lando laughs, his hands finding her waist, then her hips, steadying her on his lap, “I love you,” he says it casually, but it still freezing the blood in her veins.
Her fingers fly towards his mouth to cover his lips, “Don't,” she warns.
“You know I do. I was serious last night. You don't have to decide anything right now, but I'm not going anywhere. It sucks we needed to hurt for a while, we're both at fault, but I never stopped loving you,” he repeats.
“You're so unfair.”
“Don't care, say it back,” he teases, digging his fingers into her skin to tickle her sides.
She starts giggling, “Don't you dare.”
His grin widens, “Or what?” he asks playfully as her hands fly to his, trying to fend him off.
“Lando, I'm serious. Stop it,” her laughter blends with his while he leans in closer, his lips brushing her ear.
“I need to hear it, baby. Please. Just say it back.”
“It back,” she chuckles, feeling his fingers tickling her so mercilessly that tears form in her eyes. Their laughter bubbles over, loud and uninhibited, until she collapses against him. “Okay, fine. Fine,” her breathy voice stops him in place, catching his attention. “I love you, Lando.”
A simple confession; he asked for it. But none of them expected it to hang that heavily between them. It's not a lie — not in the slightest — and Lando knows it.
“Enough to give us a second chance?” he asks.
Her breath catches at the sudden shift in his tone, and before she can reply, his thumb traces her cheek gently.
“I'm so scared,” she admits, leaning into his touch.
Lando sighs, understanding too well where she's coming from, “I know, baby. But I'm even more afraid of losing us again. Losing this…”
His hand slides down her chest, tracing the curve of her breasts. With a gentle movement, he tugs at the corner of her towel, letting it drip smoothly down her body. Patiently, he runs his hands down her waist, moving back up to her chest as they leave goosebumps in their wake. Hungry, his hands rest on her breasts, squeezing them lightly until he feels her nipples in his palms, and she drops her head on his shoulder, whimpering softly.
Memories of last night make her body shudder, feeling the heat between her legs intensifying. Following his lead, her fingers start tugging at the waistband of his boxers, until they slip low on his hips.
Lando moves one hand around her neck, pulling her in for a kiss. He groans against her mouth, his breath hot and ragged, before breaking their connection long enough to kick the boxers aside.
Skin on skin, their bodies align like two puzzle pieces.
She hovers over him, his hands on either side of her, “I wanna take care of you,” he speaks softly, closing his eyes when her forehead rests against his. “Please, let me take care of you.”
There’s a vulnerability in his tone that twists something deep inside her. She's just learned how to be independent again. She can't throw all of it away. She can't let herself slip.
She can't.
“Okay,” she whispers, her voice steady despite the storm raging within her.
Her answer is all that Lando needs to hear. His lips crash back onto hers as he swaps their positions, lowering her onto the bed, his body pressing against hers, warm and solid. And so very real. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word feels like a promise, a vow that he won’t let her slip through his fingers again.
And then, Lando takes control — not the type of dominance he's used to when he steers his car. It's more like devotion; his hands map her body all over again, like a driver learning every twist and turn of a new circuit, his lips following the trail his fingers blaze.
She arches into his touch, responding to him in ways she thought she’d forgotten.
But the body remembers.
And the remembering is, oh, so good.
Last night was just the warm-up, she reckons — an act meant to remind both of them how well they fit together. Lando was gentle, kind, and patient. But now, she sees the shift in him.
His eyes are darker, filled with lust, his touch greedier. She can't help but smile when she realizes that the Lando she knows all too well — the one who’s needy, insatiable, and unrelenting in his desire for her — is still there, and so ready to show off.
Her skin tingles in anticipation as she watches him, knowing exactly what he wants. And for once, she wants it just as much. Maybe even more, considering how her body is acting independently from her brain.
She wants him to give her everything, to burn through her until she’s left gasping and wet and ruined, and she’s ready to meet his hunger with her own.
But before that, “We're not done talking,” she tells him, breathing heavily against his mouth.
“Yeah, we'll talk. Stay with me and we'll talk all you want, baby.”
She wants to protest, but her air gets knocked out of her lungs and her fingernails sink into his shoulders when Lando nudges the head of his cock up and down her slit to collect the wetness. With a gentle kiss on her jaw, she closes her eyes, tracing her fingers down his arms as he pushes inside.
They both exhale, relieved that they're back where they belong.
Talking can wait.
Lando's hands grip her waist just as he pulls out, only to push back in, all the way to the hilt in one slow, but hard thrust. The feeling is almost too much for her, which is ridiculous since he just started moving. But she feels so full, and the sounds he lets out only make her open up for him even more.
“Wait, wait,” she can barely recognize her own voice, stopping Lando when their hips touch together.
She can't explain it, but she needs it.
“What's wrong?”
She looks down between their bodies, confusing Lando even more. “I…,” she begins, but she's not sure how she's supposed to voice her need.
“It's okay, you can tell me,” he assures her, bringing his hand to cup her face in his palm, tracing his thumb over her cheek.
“I—need a second to feel you,” she explains, pushing his hand away only to trace her palms over her face.
Lando chuckles, “Baby, don't hide from me. You're driving me fucking mad when you're blushing.”
“I'm not blushing,” she contradicts him, raising her hips against his, her walls hugging him tighter with every move.
“No?” whispers Lando roughly as if he lost his voice. “God, you're perfect. So good, so fucking sweet and perfect around me, baby.”
Her legs tighten around his waist, keeping him inside, while one hand moves to his lower back to push him against her even more. There is no physical space left between them, but she still wants more. It only makes Lando's cock throb inside her pussy, giving her a few more seconds to adjust to his length before he pulls all the way out and slides back, searching for the perfect pace.
“Fuck, Lando,” she whines, burying her fingers into his hair, tugging at the roots.
“Yes, I know,” agrees Lando, his eyes flicking over her face. His insides tighten at the sight of her parting her lips in pleasure, her breathing hot and irregular. “You're so beautiful from this angle.”
“Shut up,” she cuts him off, which makes Lando chuckle again.
“Why would I?” he asks, leaning closer to her ear, while thrusting a couple more times before pausing. “You look like a fucking goddess taking my cock so well.”
She squeezes her eyes shut at the sound of his voice, low and raspy, rocking her hips to find that sweet friction against her walls again.
“Keep,” she whines, “Keep going, then. Let me have it.”
Lando presses his lips on hers at the same time he resumes his movements, his hands roaming all over her body.
“You can have my cock, baby,” he groans into her hair. “All yours.”
She nods, wrapping her fingers around his biceps, “Yeah?”
“Promise you,” says Lando.
After that, he picks up pace, both falling into an agonizing rhythm. All this time, she had thought that familiarity might dull the edge of being with Lando, that knowing his moves would make it predictable and boring, maybe even ordinary.
Somehow, it’s the exact opposite.
It’s because she knows him, and he knows her so well, that every touch feels ecstatic, every kiss charged with meaning. He doesn’t need to guess what she likes; he already knows how to unravel her, how to leave her trembling and breathless. And she knows exactly what will make his breath hitch, how to draw out that low, desperate groan that ignites her own fire.
In a way, every time feels like the first, but it's always much better, because they know how to make each other fall apart like no one else can.
“Please,” she gasps, breathing wetly in his shoulder. “Harder.”
One thing about Lando, he's always been good at listening. Without thinking twice, he tightens his grip on her hips, fucking his cock inside her harder and faster than before. In an instant, her ears are blessed with the way his moans sound.
“God, I've missed fucking my pretty girl like this,” says Lando, his hands moving on her thighs to spread her more so he can slide in faster. “It's never like this, baby, fuck.”
Being with Lando is chaos, the kind of beautiful, consuming chaos that leaves everything around them in shambles. They are loud and messy, and everything is sweaty and wet and sticky. He kisses her like he’s starving, touches her like he’s desperate to memorize every inch of her skin, and she matches his fervor, meeting him with the same wild energy that pulls them under. Together.
“Lando,” she spits his name out of her mouth in short spasms. “Lando, Lan… Lando.”
It's almost like a cry for help, but she doesn't need saving. Not when he's fucking her so good, slamming against her over and over again, until the outside world fades away and all she remembers is his name.
“Lando,” she whimpers again.
“Keep me in, love. Like that,” she can barely hear him over the sound of skin slapping on skin. “Fuck. You're taking me so well, I won't stop fucking you, baby. I won't—”
She sucks in a breath of air, her body buzzing with pleasure. Wrapping her arms around his torso, she can feel how hot and sweaty his chest is. She moves with him for a couple more thrusts before she lets go, the sound of Lando fucking in and out of her while she comes so obscene that it makes her eyes roll.
“I'll never get tired of seeing you coming like that,” says Lando, pinning her to the bed, his cock feeling so fucking good inside of her that it makes him see stars. “So fucking hot, baby.”
Her nails scratch the skin of his back as her pussy clenches around his length, forcing another hiss out of Lando's mouth.
“Don't stop,” she manages to say, even though she feels her throat raw.
“Ah, look at you, now. Being so good for me,” says Lando with a smirk, tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Letting me fuck you when you're sore and spent. And so wet, baby, you're dripping all around my cock. Fucking hell.”
Lando's jaw clenches, a visible battle playing out in his face as his breath hitches. She feels him moving deeper, hitting the sweet spot inside her, sending ripples of pleasure through her body with every thrust.
“Yes—fuck. Don't stop,” she repeats.
His eyes widen as he tries to hold on for as long as he can, but it's hard when he flashes his eyes in her direction and catches her already looking. It doesn't take long for him to realize there's a replica to her first orgasm. He nods, without saying anything else, bringing his hand up to her neck. She places hers on top of his, not to push it away, but to let it rest there as a sign that it's fine to claim her if that's what Lando needs.
And that's enough for him to lose it.
“Baby,” he breaths out, fucking her slopply, any sense of order dissolving under the weight of their eye contact.
She arches into him, her fingers trembling as they rise to cup his face.
“Keep your eyes on me,” she demands, her voice a desperate need.
She pictured that face thousands of times in the past months, but nothing compares to this. Lando groans at the command, his hooded gaze staying on hers. The intensity of his expression nearly undoes her again — his pupils blown wide, lips parted as he lets out s string of cuss words.
“That's it, pretty boy,” she whispers, her thumb brushing over his cheek as he moves inside her, his pace faltering for just a moment before he snaps back into thay sloppy rhythm, chasing his release. “Want to see you when you let go.”
She barely finishes her sentence when his orgasm crashes over him like a tsunami; no one would be able to even tell where she begins and where he ends.
Lando looks so beautiful and wrecked, and she drinks in every second of his surrender.
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.
When his features soften, she sees how vulnerable he is, and it leaves her breathless.
Satisfied and content, her fingers still trace his face, wanting to remember the exact way he looks in this moment, when he is completely hers.
Unable to support his weight, Lando collapses on top of her, feeling his body as light as a feather, which is so far from the truth. But she doesn't mind; she loves the feeling, actually. She loves the heaviness, and the way he keeps his cock tucked deep inside her, wet and softening slowly, not allowing his cum to leak out of her.
Descending back down from their high, the only sounds in the room are their slowing breaths and the soft rustle of the sheets. It's hard not to notice the weight of reality when it begins to creep in around the edges.
She lies beneath him, her fingers lazily tracing patterns on his back, but her mind is miles away.
“When are you leaving?” she finally asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
Lando tenses for a moment, then shifts to lie beside her, propping his head on his hand to look at her. The vulnerability in her eyes twists something deep inside him.
She swallows hard, suddenly flooded by all the reasons they had fought, all the late nights filled with misunderstandings and misaligned priorities. She remembers all the reasons why they broke up, and thinking how bad of an idea this has been. Because, how can she let go of him again, without feeling like she'll be losing both her head and heart in the process.
“On Tuesday,” says Lando softly. “But not how you think.”
Her brow furrows in confusion as she turns to face him. “What do you mean?”
Lando leans over, his hand caressing her cheek as he gathers his thoughts.
“I’ve been thinking about us for months. Since you left, actually,” he begins, his voice low and deliberate. “I had a lot of time, and I managed to figure out why it didn’t work before, why I couldn’t give you what you deserved. So… I’ve talked to the team.”
She almost stops breathing, her eyes widening in his direction while she waits for him to continue. Months ago, she would've die to have this conversation, and now that it happens, she doesn't know how to behave.
“I'm working on a schedule. To have more time for us,” Lando explains.
Her heart skips a beat. “You’d do that?”
“For us,” he repeats, his voice firm. “I can’t keep pretending I’m okay without you. I don't want to be okay without you, it's stupid. And I don’t want to keep coming back here, hoping for a second chance, only to mess it up again. I want to get it right this time.”
She stares at him, not knowing what to do with that information. This is not the Lando she knows. The recklessness and impulsivity got replaced by caution and planning the steps ahead. It's new, and exciting, and it makes her tear up.
“And what if it still doesn’t work?” she asks, her voice small.
He leans closer, his forehead touching hers. “It will.”
His tone is so definitive that she can't say anything else, letting the silence stretch between them as she searches Lando's face for any sign of hesitation.
There’s none.
“How... did you actually know where to find me last night?”
Lando smirks, studying her face with half-closed eyes, bringing his hand to her jaw. “That friend of yours posted on her story. Honestly, I didn’t know you were going to be there. But I hoped.”
She shakes her head, scoffing, “Stalker behavior.”
Lando shrugs nonchallantly, “I just happened to be nearby,” he chuckles.
“Lucky me,” she says, tracing the contour of his nose with her finger, stopping on his jaw.
“Lucky us,” he corrects, pulling her in for another kiss.
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Thank you for reading!
None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎
© trashy track tales, 2024
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tasteracha · 20 hours ago
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a/n: when my angel @astraystayyh asks me for something i deliver. or make an attempt to. anyways please watch this before reading. warnings: subby hyunjin, mentions of alcohol, smut - MINORS DNI.
you loved all the colors of hyunjin. how could you not?
the deep shaded power with which he dances, sweat dripping off his temples and a fierce look in his eyes that only show when he’s on stage or pounding into you late at night. the carefree pastels that breeze through his hair when he has a day off, spending all his spare time with you with your fingers interlocked like he would lose his way otherwise. the soft mauves and grays of his sleepy eyes in the morning while you draw your fingers across his scalp, tracing along his nose down to his lips to feel the plushness underneath your skin. 
but the one that holds a fonder space in your heart was the one you were looking at now. his face is painted with the brushstrokes of a glass of wine, redness on his cheeks and stained across his lips. he’s warm, you know he is, even if you haven’t touched him yet. your own half full glass sits forgotten on the nightstand, the heat from the alcohol just enough to burn at your stomach and scorch high on your cheekbones. 
he’s talkative, speaking about everything and nothing while he holds you in the palm of his hand with just his eyes. soft giggles escape his lips, given to you freely despite how precious every sound that comes from his lips are. you take his hand in yours, finally drinking in the warmth of his palm as you hold it to your lips for a chaste kiss. it was innocent, a helpless motion that you don’t even realize you’re doing, but the look he gives you in response is anything but that. his eyes darken for a moment before he groans, sliding onto his back and stretching out his tired limbs. his cardigan rides up, exposing a sliver of his shoulder, taught skin over hard muscle, and you can feel your mouth begin to water. 
he’s left with his head tilted back, his neck a blank canvas begging to be colored by you, and your heart begins to beat faster. 
“god, i love you,” he turns his head towards you, letting his hand fall onto his stomach right above the waist of his pants. his legs are spread, beckoning you to fill the space between them. “did you know that?”
he’s not drunk, at least not from the wine. he’s drunk off of you, the mere presence of your body in bed with him is enough to make him lose a bit of his sanity. 
it’s not as if you’re any better with the way your body is singing for him. 
“yes, silly boy,” you smile, leaning over him to brush your lips against his jaw. “you only tell me every day. it’s not as if i could forget it.”
you throw your leg over his and slot yourself into the space that he left for you, and for the first time in the night he is silent. he watches your every move and his breath hitches when you place your hand next to his, ghosting across the muscles rippling on his stomach. 
“i love you, too,” you lock your fingers with his, squeezing them together. “do you want me to show you how much?”
he barely gets time to breath out a yes before you’re leaping forward, kissing him with a passion that never depletes no matter how much time passes by. he opens his mouth for you and you take the invitation, sliding your tongue against his. you can’t get enough of his taste, wine and his cherry lip balm and him. you move your lips down to his neck, biting sharply then soothing the spot with a lick. his arms wrap around your waist and pull you closer to him, but before he can get too far you take his wrists into your hands and pin them to the mattress at his sides. 
“keep these here, okay?” he nods so quickly that his hair shakes with the movement. satisfied, you sit up and slide down, dropping to your knees in front of him. freeing his cock from his pants comes more easily to you than breathing, the movements committed to memory like the way his feet move when he’s dancing. you leave his pants hanging off of his knees, too impatient to maneuver them off of him. 
you take his cock into your mouth, sucking lightly and hollowing out your cheeks. you look at him through your lashes, and the innocent look paired with the obscene sounds coming from your mouth making him growl fiercely. he reaches his hand towards your head, moving to card his fingers through your hair.
“darling, you’re so-” he cuts off when you pull away, fixing him with a look. 
“what did i say?” you move your eyes to his hand, still hovering in the air by your head, and he drops it back to the bed with wide eyes. 
“good boy,” you smirk when he shudders, giving him a moment to adjust before going back down on him. you lick a stripe up your hand to ease the slide of your hand on his cock, pairing it with sucking and licking at his head. you take him a bit deeper and you can feel his hips shift. the muscles on his stomach ripple in restraint, and you feel a swell of pride at him doing what he’s told. 
he’s so good to you. 
“where do you want to come?” you move away, leaning your head on his inner thigh as you lazily pump your hand along his shaft. he’s been so good, he deserves to make this choice. 
“i- what?” his eyes are hazy, your words not registering in his pleasure soaked brain. 
“on my face? in my mouth?” your breaths his hit exposed skin and he twitches, his bottom lip capturing between his teeth. “it’s your choice, baby. your reward, for being so good.” 
in truth, he’s barely done anything to deserve a reward, but the fondness you feel for him makes you want to praise him over and over. 
“in-” he clears his throat when his breath catches. “in your mouth, darling, please.”
you run a soothing hand down his thigh but it does nothing to calm him down. you shake your head fondly before taking his cock into your mouth for the last time. you speed up, sucking harder than before, going deeper, moving your hand in a flurry. the sudden change of pace makes him release a series of noises that make your head spin. little whimpers mix with soft moans, and he throws his head back as his entire body goes taut. strands of white paint the inside of your mouth, and the taste doesn’t bother you because it’s him.
you keep him in your mouth, swallowing his release around him and suckling him clean until he starts to whine in sensitivity. he releases his hands from their invisible prison and pulls you up and close to him, tucking your head into his neck and wrapping his arms around you. his hold is so tight, like he’s afraid you’d disappear if he didn’t hold you in a death grip. 
“you?” he whispers, stretching his languid body underneath you and sliding one hand down to cup your ass. 
“i’m okay, you can pay me back later,” you giggle against his neck and he sighs, his entire body going slack as he lets himself relax in his post-orgasmic bliss. 
“did you know that i love you?” he says against your hair, and you snort out a laugh. 
“do you want to do this again?” you roll your hips against his softening cock and he squeaks, tightening his arms around you even more than they already were. 
the sound of your shared laughter echoes through the room, taking the shape of affection that doesn’t need to be spoken.
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chithereader · 2 days ago
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losing my cool / aaron hotchner
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part 2 to playing it cool !!! hope you like it word count: 1.6k pairing: aaron hotchner x f!reader genre: angst at first, but fluff!!!!!! cw: more sickeningly sweet and soft aaron x reader, mentions of insecurities
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The smile on Aaron’s face slowly fades as he takes in your frozen stance. You’re staring at him like he just shot you in the back and worry starts to fill him, “Honey..?” waving his hand in front of your face, hoping it would be enough to break you out of your stupor. 
 “Hello?” Still waving his hand in your face, your eyes darted to his. Your body is in a state of shock– in your mind, there’s a tiny version of you desperately digging her way out of a landslide of disbelief. Waves and waves of doubts and insecurities hindering you from processing what is happening. 
Aaron watches as your mouth moves with barely any sound coming out. Like a fish out of water, you’re scrambling, “W-what?” That’s… a bit too shaky to be good. 
He pauses to think. The doubts are starting to creep up on him. 
Maybe he was too rash with his question. 
Maybe that wasn’t the best way to spring it on you. 
Maybe he should have waited for a better time.
Maybe he should have planned something. 
Maybe she isn’t ready.
Maybe she just doesn’t want to marry me. 
He tries hard to swallow all these dark thoughts, clearing his throat to fake the confidence that’s slowly diminishing, “I said, ‘Marry me.’” After he says those words again he stills, hoping that this time he’ll get an answer. And that.. it would be the answer he so badly wants. 
But time slows down and his heart soon follows as he watches tears start to pool in your eyes. You’re shaking your head– they’re tiny shakes and you look panicked. This isn’t good. Not good at all. 
He really wasn’t expecting this. It never occurred to him you’d say no. Or ..not yes. Aaron’s mind is running a million miles per hour. He doesn’t know what to do, or say. He barely even knows how he feels. And so he defaults to doing the one thing he does best (as a prosecutor at least): object. 
This is triggered by your movement. You move around him, leaving the kitchen towards your living room. Your goal was to sit on the couch, craving some stability as your legs get weaker the more you’re processing what was asked, how you reacted, and how it could be coming across. 
But Aaron’s legs are longer than yours. Before you even reach the couch, he’s holding your arm firmly and gently at the same time. He’s got that furrow in his brows that makes him look stern, but his eyes betray him as you can clearly see the worry in them. 
“Well yes!” he says in disagreement. He doesn’t understand why you haven’t said yes, and as much as he isn’t the kind of man to ever force a lady into anything, a part of him is scared of what he’ll hear if he asks you why you’re not saying yes. 
Though instead of allowing that fear to paralyze him, he allows it to control him. To bear its face because the softer, more rational part of him is hiding. 
You’re avoiding his gaze, crossing your arms– you’re turning away from him. “No- Aaron, you– I don– I ca–” 
You know he’s studying you. You can feel his eyes roaming your face, your neck, your body. He’s taking in everything he can because you’ve given him absolutely nothing so far. And oh how you wish you could voice it all out. 
You just wish it was easy to say I don’t think I’m enough for you. What if you realize one day that I’m not good enough? Are you sure? Are you sure about this? About me? What if you start to want someone smarter? Prettier? Hotter? What if you want someone who is as accomplished or important as you? What if you get bored of me? What if– 
You’re broken out of your thoughts when he suddenly straightens. He looks as if he’s realized something and the next thing you know you’re hit by a gust of wind because he’s running up the stairs. 
Within an instant you run after him. A dozen scenarios are running through your head, the worst being Aaron packing your things because he’s going to ask you to leave. Your heart beats faster as you reach the top of the steps. You peek into your room and see him rummaging through drawers. 
Your worries quiet significantly when you realize they’re his drawers. And just when you’re about to approach him, he turns around meeting you halfway. You’re both illuminated by the sunlight that’s coming through the bedroom window you’re standing in front of. 
He’s still. He’s got a serious look on his face. You take him in, trying to read him but he’s got his profiler look on– unreadable and determined. His voice rattles you, “I’m sorry. That was a mistake.” Firm and devoid of any emotion. 
Oh god.
You’re shaking your head, reaching to hold him by his arms. You start to cry, “Aaron please, that’s not what I–” but… he’s going down on one knee. 
What?
He watched multiple emotions flicker on your face. Defeat, panic, confusion– “It was a mistake. I shouldn’t have said that. I– I planned to do it better than that. I don’t know why I let it slip out, you deserve better than that.” 
Before you can process it, Aaron’s holding out a ring. He’s holding your hand in the other while tears are streaming down both your faces. You have no idea how you heard it but you guess it’s simply a testament to how attuned you are to him when he whispers, “Please, please, please. Will you marry me, honey?” 
Time stops. Literally. You can feel your heart in your chest beating louder, heavier. It’s pounding as if begging to be heard. Begging to let Aaron know that it beats for him and him only. You’re lowering yourself to kneel before him. You want to see his face properly. His eyes. His nose. His lips. This is the man you love. This is the man you want to marry. Your eyes are simply capturing every angle of this moment. 
You’re leveled now. Equals. You grab both his hands in yours and you stare into his brown eyes. You want him to know you mean it, as you nod your head slowly and breathe out, “Yes.” A smile breaks across his face, tears starting to stream again. 
You watch him as he tries to put the ring on your finger, getting it on the first try even if his sight is slightly hindered by his tears of happiness and relief. The sun makes the ring sparkle, catching your attention and you look at it properly for the first time. 
It’s beautiful. Aaron would argue that the stone screams you – grace, loyalty, peace. He catches your eye and the both of you start to smile. You start to giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck while his arms snake around your waist. 
He buries his head in your neck, breathing in your scent while silently thanking the heavens for granting him this. You break apart, startled to hear tiny footsteps nearing. The both of you start to stand up from the floor, straightening yourselves out and wiping the remaining tears staining your faces. 
You both look to the door, waiting for the little boy to show himself. You hear a soft knock right before the door opens slowly, a head peeking in, “Daddy?” 
Aaron goes to the door, opening it more for Jack to come in. The little boy goes straight to you and you pick him up in your arms with ease, resting him on your hip. You have your left hand holding him stable, and even though the little boy’s still groggy with sleep he notices the sparkling addition to your hand. 
You take notice of how his little face lights up in excitement and you have no idea what about it he understands, “I help Daddy buy you that!” His voice is full of pride, genuinely proud that he had played a part in picking. 
You’re confused, not fully understanding what Jack means. Looking to Aaron for an answer, you’re surprised to find him blushing. He looks shy and he’s shrugging at you but you can tell he’s trying hard to play it cool. The smile fighting its way on his face betrays him. 
You decide to take your chance on the adorable kid that is now fiddling with your ring, watching in amazement at how much it’s twinkling in the light. Children are the most honest people you know anyway. Pursing your lips with squinted eyes, you investigate “What do you mean, bubba?” 
“Daddy asked me what ring pop you want, so I asked you when we watched Spiderman and you said your favorite is the green one so I tell Daddy you want the green one!” 
Your heart stutters and the tears start coming in again. Aaron asking Jack for his opinion for your engagement ring. Jack thinking it's a ring pop. Jack asking for your favorite ring pop flavor. Jack being proud that you got the ring you want, pop or not. 
Brought out of your thoughts by Jack wanting to leave your hold, you put him down. You watch as he happily walks out of your room, presumably to go to the kitchen. You look at Aaron again, and just as you’re about to say something about what you just found out, you realize one thing. Spiderman.
You gasp. Covering your mouth in surprise, you slap his arm lightly, “That was our third date!”
Aaron laughs loudly, rushing out of the room before you can throw questions at him or even comments about how insane he is. He couldn’t care less. He was right. 
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a/n: just want to say thank you so much for the love and support i've been getting for my hotch fics!! as someone who's new here, it all means so much to me <33 i recently made a masterlist as i plan to write so much more and branch out to other characters i've been perpetually in love with!! leave requests of what you want to read or characters i can write about, i'd love to write for you guys ◡̈ tagging the people who wanted a part 2 for this: @pear-1206 @dedicatedfangirl2001 u guys are so sweet
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dumbkiri · 3 days ago
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A FEAST FOR BIRDS
𝐉𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐨𝐝𝐝 𝐱 𝐅! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
When Jason Todd comes back to earth and faces off with his vigilante family along with villains, he settles his problems as much as he could. He reunited with his family, but still kicked villain ass. As the holidays approach, Jason is struck with a range of emotions. An unexpected visitor makes her way in Wayne manor with a child in her arms. Apparently, the child belongs to him.
[ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP]
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“I am moving back into Gotham due to some company issues. I wanted to see if Jay can stay at your place for a bit? Maybe spend Thanksgiving with you and the boys? He would love to see his uncles and of course, his grandfathers. It would mean a lot to us if you can do this. If not, I can work around the company with him by my side. One day he will inherit what my father built, and I might as well get him to see his own building. Anyways, please let me know what you think. We miss you and the family a lot, see you soon Bruce.” 
Dick leaned back into his chair and listened to the recent voicemail [Name] left for Bruce. Her voice rang with some truth while it felt like she was hiding something. He fiddled around with one of Batman’s batarangs thinking about the woman. They haven’t seen her or Jay in two years. He had to have missed something in her voice message. He knows it. 
Dick leaned forward and pressed play on the voicemail, listening to it for the fifth time this afternoon. 
“I am moving back into Gotham due to some company issues.”
 This part alone made no sense to him. If his memory serves him right, Bruce and [Name] came to an agreement that he would watch over the [L.Name] Industry allowing her to live her life with Jay. Bruce never mentioned any “company issues” that she brought up in the call. Then again Bruce has Lucius to run Wayne Enterprise, so maybe Bruce neglected her company due to his commitment to being Batman. Although, that still made no sense because [F.Name] and Bruce had a great partnership. 
[Name]’s dad knew who Bruce truly was in the night thus granting Lucius to work very closely with one another. [F.Name] would create technology that Lucius would then make into gadgets for Batman. After [F.Name] passed away, the plans he had were burned to make sure they didn’t get into the wrong hands. Bruce feared to keep the works [F.Name] worked endlessly on and made sure to get rid of everything he could in his archives. 
“Maybe spend Thanksgiving with you and the boys?”
Thanksgiving…that is tomorrow!
“Bruce! Alfred! ” Dick shot up from his chair when the realization hit him. He dressed out of his uniform and into his casual clothing as quickly as he could. Whenever [Name] did drop Jay off for the holidays, she did it the day before so he could spend more time with them. 
A million worries were hurdled at his body thinking back to another Wayne that was present in the house. “Jason, if you can hear me from down here!” Dick huffed up the stairs, “Let’s go out for some lunch! I am so hungry!” Was it a lame excuse for his brother-in-arms, yes. But if he had a chance to spare Jason from seeing [Name], he would do it in a heartbeat. Jason doesn’t know he has a kid, let alone a kid with his ex-girlfriend. 
When Bruce described the relationship between Jason and [Name], he went on about true love. A happiness he didn’t think would surround him when he watched Jason smile at [Name]. The teasing he would do to the both of them like a real parent. Bruce watched them create a beautiful bond at a young age. 
Then when Jason died, Bruce watched the heartbreak crush [Name]’s heart. Dick remembers the conversation between him and Bruce when the news of her pregnancy hit him like a truck. 
..
“She looked at me like I killed him.” 
“Bruce, you can’t think like that. [Name] is just hurting, you said so many times. They were meant to be together.” 
“She told me that she’s pregnant.” 
“W-what? She’s only 16, Jason really- Fuck, what do we do now? We have to support her, you did tell her that right?” 
“Of course, I did. She accepted my help and she told me that she wants us to get to know the child. That she still wants to be a part of our family. So I told her that I will send $4000 to her account every month for any expenses she has. She didn’t accept any more and I didn’t agree to any less. I don’t feel right though.” 
“What do you mean by that?” 
“I mean that we get to live and see the child Jason made with [Name]. We get the luxury of knowing his child while he rots in the ground. If he knew, do you think he would have left? If [Name] got to him before the fake letter, would he have stayed?”
“Maybe, but at least we can do right by him and support his family. That’s all we can do for him now. It’s okay to cry, Bruce. Loss shouldn’t be associated with shame.”
..
He reached the top of the stairs and cringed at the sound of the doorbell ringing throughout the mansion. 
As casually as he could, Dick entered the living room and heard the echo of two voices at the entrance of Wayne Manor. He sneaked around the couches and furniture thinking someone at the door would catch him from so far away. 
“Who are you hiding from?” 
Dick panicked and spun around to see Jason on the couch reading a book. He heard Alfred welcome [Name] into the manor and he knew the old man would lead her to them. With fast thinking, Dick ran over to Jason and shoved his sunglasses onto his face, “Quick! Wear these and this!” Then he stuffed a black face mask into Jason’s book. 
“Dick, what-” 
“Jason, please!” Dick pleaded and helped put the sunglasses on while Jason reluctantly put the face mask on. Jason wanted to ask more until Alfred walked in with a woman and a child in her arms. Swiftly, Dick pulled Jason’s red hoodie over his head and turned around to greet the visitors. 
“[Name], it’s so nice to see you!” Dick shouted and enunciated her name to get it through Jason’s thick skull. He walked over to the woman and gave her a hug mindful of the sleeping child in her arms…wait, what? Jason squinted behind the sunglasses and observed the child some more which Dick fawned over like some lovesick idiot. 
“Wow, he’s grown so much,” Dick awed at the sight of the child and gently touched the unruly black hair that reminded him so much of the Wayne boys. 
“I’m sorry for the apparent unexpected visit, I did leave a voicemail for Bruce,” [Name] huffed and shifted her child more comfortably in her arms to which Dick reached his arms out to her. Without hesitation, [Name] smiled gratefully and handed her kid over to Dick. She watched Dick whisper to her sleeping son and told him, “We’ve decided to do a road trip instead of flying. Jay insisted that he wanted to see the “world”, but there’s only so much adventure he can handle. He’s going to wake up super excited to see his favorite uncle.” 
Dick’s mind blew up as his eyes looked from Jay to [Name] who giggled at his reaction. “You’re kidding, he said that? I’m his favorite uncle?” 
Well that confirmed to Jason that the kid is definitely not Dick’s. Honestly he’d be pissed if Dick had a child with his ex-girlfriend. There were so many questions running through his head and he wanted to ask them. But the silent glare he got from Alfred in the corner of the room told him to stay put with not a word. 
“Yes, it’s always been you, Dick,” [Name] unwrapped her scarf from her neck and shoulders. Finally her eyes spotted the giant man sitting on the couch adjacent to where her family was at. She observed him quietly and looked down at the book in his gloved hands. Dick nor Alfred introduced the stranger to her, so she took it upon herself to be polite. 
“Hello,” She stepped around Dick and reached her hand out with a courteous smile, “My name is [Name] [L.Name].”
Jason closed his book and stood up from the couch. He towered over her and flashbacks of their time together brought longing in his chest. He remembered everything about her from her smile, to her eyes, to her personality. She hadn’t changed one bit. He reached his hand out and shook hers. His tongue twisted and more questions slammed into him. 
“This is my friend, Lazlo,” Dick chimed nervously, internally cringing at the fake name he gave Jason. 
This piqued [Name]’s interest and she giggled, “Lazlo, that’s a cool name. Can he hear me or speak to me?” She asked, releasing Jason’s hand and quietly whispered the last part over her shoulder to her friend. 
Dick shook his head and said, “He’s actually a mute. Anyways what brings you here to Gotham. Don’t say holiday cheer either.” He walked between Jason and [Name] and took a seat next to Jason's closed book. Meanwhile Alfred dismissed himself knowing that Jason will not be able to say a word. 
Jason sat back in his seat while [Name] sat on the couch across from them. She visibly relaxed in comfort and sighed tiredly, “My mother wants to force a marriage onto me and like some teenager, I ran away. Plus there are some things I have to do at the company. I wanted to see if you guys are okay with babysitting Jay while I dust the old mansion down the street. Haven’t been there in years.”
She laughed and Dick joined her. He shifted Jay into his lap and said, “Of course, we would be happy to take care of the little one. I, for one, missed him a lot. Is the marriage the reason why we haven’t seen either of you? It seems like a lot.” 
[Name] straightened out her back and looked away from his bright blue eyes. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes as she explained a bit more, “Yes, it’s a reason. The marriage is with a business partner. He’s a bit older than me and has spoken about having a family with me. My mother is ecstatic about more grandchildren, but I am not. There is only one person I truly love and that is Jay’s father. I cannot imagine having children with someone else when Jason is still fresh on my mind. And he gave me a brilliant child to cherish in his memory.” 
Dick could see Jason tense up at the revelation and saw from the corner of his eyes Jason look at Jay sleeping in his arms. The atmosphere grew heavier by the second and he had to do something. Something to appease Jason’s longing. 
“Do you think Lazlo can hold Jay? He knew Jason before his death and-” 
“Of course!” [Name] gestured to Jason, with a kind smile on her face, “I’m sorry for your loss, Lazlo. But I’m going to tell you now, Jay looks exactly like his father.” She giggled and Dick looked at Jason with expecting eyes. 
Slowly, Jason sat up and hesitantly opened his arms up. He wasn’t ready to hold his child while keeping his emotions bottled up. “You can do this, Lazlo,” Dick’s voice reassured him, “He won’t break in your arms.” 
[Name] laughed from her spot and pointed at Dick, “Hey, you were afraid to hold him the first time too!” 
Dick shrugged and argued back, “He was a lot smaller back then.” Then he scooted closer to Jason making the transfer a lot easier for the both of them. In his sleep, Jay immediately snuggled up against Jason’s chest surprising the boy’s mother. 
“Oh wow,” [Name] awed at the sight, “He normally doesn’t do that. Jay only snuggles into me, I’m kinda jealous he’s doing it with someone else.” She gave Jason a fake pout with a teasing tone in her gentle voice. But all he could focus on was the peaceful look on the child’s face. 
This boy is his son. 
Jason pulled Jay closer to his body as his chin touched the crown of the boy’s head. Then he felt a lone tear slide down his cheek. Thankfully he wore a face mask and sunglasses to hide his joy. [Name] spoke the truth when she said Jay looked like him. Jay is his mini-me. 
“So how many instruments can he play now?” Dick asked. 
“He only plays the piano, Dick,” [Name] rolled her eyes playfully, “but he can speak three languages. Sign language being one of them.”
Sign language? Jason thought and picked his head up with interest. He recalls that they learned sign language for fun to talk behind her mother’s back. 
“That’s right, I remember you teaching him. Although, I think he flipped me off once.” 
“Don’t say that!” [Name] laughed. 
“I’m being serious!” Dick shouted back with a smirk on his face. 
Jason leaned back into the couch while Jay fit perfectly in his arms. The boy laid on his chest with his legs being held in a gentle, but protective grip. Jay’s head laid onto his shoulder and Jason could hear the soft breaths that left the boy’s lungs. Soon, the voices of [Name] and Dick dissipated and the breathing of his son lulled him to sleep. 
Jason would do anything to keep [Name] and Jay to himself. Even if that means revealing himself to them in the near future. For now, he’s comfortable with blissful ignorance. 
……
“Mama, can I stay in Mister Lazlo’s arms a bit longer?” 
A tiny voice woke Jason from his sleep and he felt small hands clenching the sides of his hoodie. He blinked his weary eyes open and saw the living room in a dark tint. He forgot he wore sunglasses to hide his face along with the face mask. 
“Jay, it’s time for dinner. You and Mister Lazlo have slept long enough. You both need to eat. And you don’t want Grandpa or your uncles waiting for long do you?” 
“But he feels safe and warm, mama.” Jay mumbled and Jason slowly rose up from the couch, steadying a startled Jay in his hold. He looked down at the child with a funny bedhead and couldn’t help but chuckle at the surprised look on the boy’s face. 
[Name] fixed her son’s hair and looked at him lovingly, “See, Mister Lazlo is ready to eat too. Perhaps you can ask if he wants to sit next to you for dinner?” She looked at her son expectantly and the little boy nodded his head. He raised his arms up and sighed to Jason, 
“Mister Lazlo, would you sit next to me, fuck you.”
The ending part took Jason and [Name] completely off guard and the mother reacted quickly pushing her son’s hands down to his sides. With a scolding shout, she said, “JJ, where in the world did you learn that?” She gave Jay a hard look and the little boy obviously seemed confused. 
“What do you mean, mama? I asked him nicely.” Jay tilted his head to the side in a questioning manner. 
“That last sign, isn’t really- It’s a bad word, JJ!” [Name] huffed and softened her look, “Who taught you that and what did they say it meant?” 
What Jay answered made sense to Jason, “Uncle Damian said that it meant ‘please’. He said to only use it for them and not you though.”
“So Dick was right when he mentioned you flipped him off,” She rolled her eyes then focused back on her son, “Please, don’t use that anymore, it’s really rude. Use the sign for me as please from now on, understood?” 
Jay nodded his head obediently then looked at Jason with bright silver-blue eyes, “Understood, mama. Sorry Mister Lazlo.” 
Jason chuckled and shook his head, signing, “It’s okay, you did great. And yes, I would like to sit by you for dinner. As long as you give me any leftovers you have.” 
Jay giggled and jumped up signing back, “It’s a deal!” The little boy ran off towards the direction of the kitchen and the adults were left on their own. 
“He gets excited to meet new people,” [Name] spoke softly, her eyes warming up talking about her son. “JJ has a heart of gold and he loves everyone he meets like his own family. Especially the Waynes. When his father passed away, I panicked because he wouldn’t have a father figure to be his mentor. Yet Bruce proved me wrong. JJ instantly grew fond of his grandpa and uncles. They all became his father figure, some better than others in different aspects. Speaking of which, I might have to wrestle Damian for teaching Jay that obscene gesture.” 
[Name] laughed at the end and looked at Jason for some approval. He quickly signed to her, “We can jump him together. The demon spawn won’t know what will hit him.”
Just like her son, she smiled and said, “It’s a deal.”
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sinofwriting · 1 day ago
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Insane Person - Max Verstappen (I ❤️ MILFS verse)
Words: 667 Summary: Max wants to be sure he can give Pan kids. (Part of the I ❤️ MILFS verse) Note(s): Takes place during the original I ❤️ MILFS fic, before Max finds out Pan’s age. Max is insane btw, this has been a blurb idea since I wrote the original fic and finally it has been written so enjoy, lol.
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Masterlist | Support Me! | I ❤️ MILFS verse
“I’d love to give Logan a sibling or two.”
The words so soft had made his heart speed up as soon as he heard them and now thinking about them, letting them play on repeat.
It’s early in their relationship, though they haven’t yet talked about it yet, no matter how much Max is dying to do so. But Max wants to be the one that she gives Logan siblings with.
Which is why he’s sitting in front of his computer and looking at medical studies.
A lot of it is going over his head. The most schooling he sat through was the first four or five years of it. He can grasp engineering, anything to do with cars and their data, but medical terminology goes over his head.
He powers through, he doesn’t know Pan’s exact age, his mother would smack him over the head if he even thought to ask her age, but she’s got to to be mid to late thirties if not early forties considering Logan is twenty.
The studies say she’d be fine getting pregnant, shouldn’t have trouble conceiving, and his cheeks burn at the word, at the image it puts in his mind. They haven’t quite got their, but they’ve gotten close. They throw out the term geriatric pregnancy which makes him flinch because forty wasn’t old, at least not if you weren’t a driver and to see it be called something like that felt harsh, rude. Another one calls it advanced maternal age which really isn’t any better, but it’s just relieving to see that’s still possible. And then a study mentions that if people are having trouble conceiving that not only does the person birthing need to get checked, but both do and a new panic takes over his brain.
What if when it came time to try, he was the problem? It would really be his luck. Things had been going very well for the past few years, it would be his luck that he couldn’t give the woman he loves more kids.
And Logan wanted siblings, the panic grows as he remembers Logan chiming in that he’d love some siblings. Oh god, what if he failed in giving Logan siblings? He wanted the younger driver to like him, to really like him.
His fingers act quickly, wanting to know how he can know if he can have kids and the results make him blink because it couldn’t be that easy.
He just had to provide a sample in a cup?
Max’s brain struggles to compute that after just reading everything that women have to go through to get their fertility checked.
His hand goes to his phone, he rarely if ever called his doctor, but this was important.
He goes through the motions of confirming he is who he is, wondering how weird it must be for other people to do this for him before he finally gets asked why for the purpose of the appointment.
“I want to check to see if I can have kids.”
“Okay, are you and your partner having trouble conceiving?”
His cheeks burn, “We aren’t trying yet. I just want to make sure that it’s possible on my end.”
“Okay, it’s a simple procedure at our clinic and we could see you in the next three days if that works for you at any time we are open.”
“That’s perfect.”
“Alright, we’ll see you in a few days, Mr. Verstappen.”
He gets the results back five days after his appointment, an email sitting in his inbox, and he forces himself to take a deep breath before finally opening it.
There are words he doesn’t know, ones he doesn’t really want to think about, but there at the end, a note from his doctor that says everything looks great, and he shouldn’t have troubles getting someone pregnant and his fist goes in the air, a quiet but excited yes leaving him.
He could give Logan siblings and Pan more kids, thank fuck.
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maybankswhore · 2 days ago
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BESTFRIENDS GIRLFRIEND.
a ‘mini’ continuation of this fic here!
summary: the night at the beach seemed to be long forgotten. or that’s what you thought until a stupid treasure hunt leads you and jj sharing a place in a locked incubation device and he helps you remember where it all started.
a/n: just recently finished season four & that scene w kiara and jj gave me the perfect idea. i know it doesn’t really ‘match’ the timeline of the last one but we can all pretend that it does <3
warnings: voyeurism , , mean!jj , reader that plays naive , fingering , use of afab anatomy , mentions of cheating , heavy petting.
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You should’ve known you were setting yourself up for failure. The minute you saw the slight smirk on JJ’s face the minute you offered to take Kiara’s place— you should’ve known something was going to happen.
Though , almost getting killed and getting your life saved by JJ Maybank was definitely not on your BINGO card.
Things between you and JJ hadn’t settled since that day night. If anything , it only made everything worse.
You were grateful another adventure opened up for the time being because pulling away from John B made you feel sick. You were eaten up by guilt , fear that your dirty little secret would blow up in your face and you’d have to own up to what you’ve done.
You could only imagine the devastation it’d cause John B and the disappointed looks from Kiara and Pope. The idea alone made your stomach sick.
JJ made it impossible to forget. He never brought it up. Not once. But that look in his eyes every time he looked at you made that same familiar feeling from that night on the beach wash up all over again— and you just knew.
You laid there in absolute dread in silence. Your eyes had opened before JJ’s and the immediate feeling of pure terror overcame you. Your memories washed back up and as the bends slowly faded away , the reality of the situation sunk in.
Practically quarantined with JJ , in this closed space , for twelve hours seemed like the test of a lifetime.
As he began to stir away , you swallowed harshly and scooted away. You clutched your necklace , anxiously fiddling with the string as you desperately search for nearby nurses.
“My savior.”
His voice was raspy. A hint of edge around the words as he cleared his throat roughly.
Silence filled the air pretty quickly and JJ’s mouth made a sound. He played it casual , coy like he always did. Cocking his head towards the side , he stared at you. “Ignoring me?”
Again , you decided to stay silent. Your cheek was raw with how hard you were biting it.
JJ sighed. “You know , I’ve been waiting to get you alone since that night on the beach.” He murmured. “A bit offended you actin’ like nothing happened.”
He was baiting you and you knew it. You refused to give and kept staring out the circular window.
“C’mon , Y/N. . .” JJ drug out your name barely above a whisper. You could feel him inching closer making you start to feel hot , your ears burning at the tips. “Have you fucked him yet? After me?”
His question made you flinch.
“Stop playing little miss innocent —” JJ narrowed his eyes , bringing up his index finger to your chin. Everything in you was screaming at you to not make the same mistake twice , to stand your ground , to fight him. . . but you were like putty in his hands. The minute you felt his skin on yours , you felt a fire where he touched and your head tilted ever-so-slightly to the side. “I know you think about it. About me.”
JJ looked into your eyes and paused , before a wide smirk developed on his face. “You haven’t , have you?” You didn’t need to say it , it was written all over your face. You were never good at keeping secrets. You were always so easy to read.
Especially by him.
He knew you like the back of his hand. All that pining had finally paid off— in his mind.
“How come?”
“JJ stop it.” You mumbled , moving to push his hand away. But he didn’t care. Instead he turned on his side to look at you , feeling like the first time all over again.
God , he hadn’t stopped thinking about it. About you.
John B was his bestfriend , his brother , but you— he couldn’t help but be addicted to you. He couldn’t change it and he didn’t want to. He’d risk loosing it all , everything , just to have you.
“You liked it—” he taunted. “You liked it so much , that I ruined your sweet little pussy for anyone else. It only remembers me. It only wants me.”
You shivered and shook your head. “No. I—I love John B. You’re acting crazy.”
“Crazy?” JJ let out a dry laugh. “You should know just how crazy I can be , baby.”
“He’s your bestfriend , JJ.” You sighed and shook your head , pushing his hand that was starting to drift downwards away. “You know this is wrong.”
“I don’t care if it is.” JJ scoffed. “I meant what I said that night. You were supposed to be for me.”
His words made you shiver. The memories crashed onto you like waves , so vividly that you could almost feel exactly how you felt sprawled out on the sand with your legs wide open just for him.
JJ noticed your reaction and smirked. It only pushed him further. “You know it , don’t you?”
You pursed your lips. Pushing your chin up defiantly as you scooted closer to the window , putting as much space between the two of you as possible.
JJ rolled his eyes. “C’mon. You might be able to lie to yourself and lie to John B— but you can’t lie to me, baby.” He murmured softly , delicately. There was a teasing tone to his voice that irritated you because you knew he was right and you hated yourself for it.
“You’re acting crazy , JJ.” You whispered. You squeezed your eyes shut and prayed that this was all a dream— a nightmare. Though the warmth of JJ’s breath and how your heart beat so loudly you thought it’d beat out of your chest , you knew it was real. Too real.
“Maybe I’m just crazy about you.”
Suddenly everything began to feel hot. The all knowing fact that you were trapped in this stupid metal bubble , next to him , it all started feeling too much. Beads of sweat dripped down your forehead , and your hand twitched. Your chest began to rise and fall quickly and you weren’t sure what you were more bothered by.
The claustrophobic , suffocating feeling: or the thump between your thighs that you wouldn’t be able to blame on alcohol.
Light as a feather , his fingertips tapped across the smooth skin of your thigh. He watched you in satisfaction. Loving the way you responded to him despite you trying to fight it. “It’s just you and me in here , baby—” he cooed in your ear. Leaning forward to press a soft kiss to the side of your neck , making your breathing hitch. “Nobody’s gonna know.”
“I–I’ll know.” You answered softly , still refusing to look at him. You hated the way it began to hurt. How it started to burn with a certain need that only JJ could subside. Everything in your body was screaming for him. To feel him again. But your head was fighting it.
“That never stopped you before.” He quipped back.
You turned your head to look at him again. Looking into his eyes that had a certain darkness swimming inside of them. You hated it. You hated him. Most of all , you hated yourself for how badly you wanted him.
Without another thought , becoming slightly delirious and deciding to cave and give in , you rushed forward and pressed your mouth against his. On instinct , he was there. Kissing you back feverishly , gripping onto you like a man starved. He tasted of saltwater and weed , the familiar taste bringing out a soft moan from your throat.
The sound made him smirk. He liked knowing you had given in. That he got what he wanted.
And he was going to make the most of it.
His hand slipped between the two of you , immediately cupping your sex. You gasped , breaking the kiss for air. He hummed in response , rubbing soft and achingly slow circles. “Beg for it.”
“W–What?” You breathed , taken off guard.
“You heard me.” JJ said again , halting his movements. JJ gripped your chin , looking down at you. “Beg me for it.”
“JJ—”
“Beg.”
He wanted to know he had the control. The power. You knew it. As much as you wanted to deny him of it , to refuse it , you couldn’t. It ached agonizingly , just looking at him ignited something within you. Your whole body was on fire and now that it started , there was no way you would have enough willpower to put it out.
“Please. . .” you whimpered , arching your back to feel some type of friction again. JJ wanted to groan right then and there, give in to you. But he refused. He ignored the way his cock was hard and angry , rubbing against the fabric of his underwear harshly. Frowning , you grabbed onto him , fisting his shirt to bring him closer. “Please touch me , JJ. Please. I need it. I need you.”
Your words were like a song to him. He let out a groan deep within his chest and kissed you again , harder , letting his tongue slip past your lips as you gasped when his hand pushed the fabric of your tiny shorts to the side.
His index finger ran up your slit , basking in the slickness. JJ smirked down at you , cocking his head to the side. “Your pussy loves me.” He boasted , and you weren’t in a position to disagree.
“Still my dirty girl , huh?” JJ moaned , sliding his finger inside of you. He grunted as he felt your walls stretch out , the tightness of it amusing him. “I knew I ruined you for him— can’t fuck him now , huh? Too busy thinkin’ bout me?”
You only responded with a moan , throwing your head back as you felt yourself fill up.
JJ watched you with a glimmer in his eyes. He swore had had never seen something hotter. The way your eyebrows scrunched up , your lips pursed , he could your feels contracting around his finger and he couldn’t help but moan at the feeling. “You want more , baby?”
“Yes , JJ , yes. Please. . .”
“Tell me your mine.” He demanded but his voice was softer now. Almost pleading.
Your mind was hazy. You almost couldn’t understand what you were saying— but you knew in this moment it was true. “I’m yours , JJ. I’m yours.”
“Fuck.” He muttered. Dropping his head to kiss your neck , he added in another finger , rutting against the side of your thigh. He pumped his fingers in and out of you , curling upwards just enough to graze over the spot you needed most.
“Yes—” you breathed. Your head lulled to the side and your toes curled. It felt good. The coolness of his metal rings that slapped against your clit each time he pumped his fingers in and out sent jolts up your spine. It felt frivolous , like you were a school girl getting fingered by her first person. But JJ knew just what to do. He knew what you liked , how to make it feel good.
“You’re mine. You’ve always been mine.” JJ said , kissing your mouth. You moaned into it , shaking underneath him as the feeling of his mouth on yours amplified the pleasure you were feeling.
The familiar feelimg began building up in your tummy and you gasped , pulling away as you used him to steady yourself. He sped up , just a little , keeping the same place as before. He cooed in your ear , kissing and sucking on different places. “Cum for me. Cum for me , give it to me.”
With your head thrown back , you felt your legs shaking. A dirty , loud moan left your mouth , one that made JJ’s ears ring. You grinded against him , riding out your high.
“My fucking girl—”
You came down breathlessly , with a new urge. You quickly attached yourself to him , wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing him closer to you. He kissed you back hungrily , grinding into you.
You jumped when you heard a knock on the glass.
“Sorry to um— interrupt.” The nurse cleared her throat awkwardly , looking away. “We need to check your vitals. . .”
And just like that , the weight of the world and your decisions fell back on your shoulders.
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sunnysidesevenup · 2 days ago
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SSR - Arlo Wake - Applepom
Vignette - Not Here For You Guys (Part 1)
read fic under the cut!
“So that’s two.” Epel says, looking between the odd collection of NRC students before him. He sighs, “Where are we going to get a third person, though?”
“I find it a bit odd that you haven’t asked your fellow Pomefiore dorm members. Vil and Rook, I understand, but…” Jade tilts his head to the side, indicating one of the tables near them. Epel’s eyes follow his direction, but the minute he spots the person being pointed out, he grimaces.
“That’s not a good choice, either!” He protests, but Jade’s mouth simply curls into a smile.
“Hmm? He seems like a perfectly good candidate to me. Let me go get him.” Before the first year can stop him, the mer is already walking away to retrieve his target.
“I’m not familiar with that one.” Sebek says, scrutinizing the two second years who now seem to be having an argument of some sort. “He doesn’t seem like he’d be any good in an athletic competition.”
Epel groans. “His athletics isn’t the problem!”
“And what exactly is the problem with me?”
“Ack!” The first year startles, looking up to the two mer who have now appeared beside their table. Jade is smiling, but Arlo looks incredibly annoyed—not that that’s much different than usual. He narrows his eyes further as he takes in the group settled around the table.
Well, he’s here already, so it would be fine to at least ask, right?
“Umm, nothing! Actually, we were looking for another person. You see, there’s this sled race in Harveston, and—“
“Oh, that.” The mer interrupts, tilting his head. “I should have realized you were going to that too.”
“Yeah—“. Epel stops, “Wait, too?!”
“Oh my.” Jade’s eyes widen, “This is unexpected. You already know about this?”
“The race truly is that famous and rigorous, then?” Sebek asks excitedly.
Arlo glances at the Diasomnia first year, raising an eyebrow. “Uh, no. I don’t care about things like that.”
“And I suppose it would be wrong of me to hope that you were similarly interested in Mount Moln…” Jade sighs, shaking his head. “I can only dream.”
Arlo turns to the mer, a look of disgust on his face. “What are you talking about?”
“Neither you or Floyd have any taste, of course…”
“Jade, I swear…”
“Wait, wait!” Epel holds up his hands, temporarily interrupting the two childhood friends. “Seriously, what’d ya’ mean ‘too’?!”
Arlo tilts his head, “I was invited to watch the race.” He says simply, as if it answers the question.
“Wh-?! By who?!” Epel suddenly gets a stricken look on his face. “Don’t tell me—“
Much to the Pomefiore student’s horror, his upperclassman’s cheeks flush a bit red, something that only happens with mention of one specific person. “It doesn’t really matter who it was, does it?” He spits back harshly.
“Oh?” Jade perks up, a smirk on his face. “My, I haven’t seen that reaction from you in a very long time. Who might we be talking about?”
Arlo shoots him a glare, “It’s none of your business, you fungi obsessed freak.”
“Your words do hurt, you know.” Jade says, entirely unfazed.
“No way, Neige invited you?” Epel blinks at the mer in shock. “And you’re going? To MY hometown? With HIM?”
Arlo stares back at him, unimpressed. “It’s only polite to accept an invitation when you’re invited.” He says, like a liar.
“Neige…?” Jade tilts his head. “…Neige LeBlanche? The actor?”
“No, the florist.” Arlo rolls his eyes, “Obviously the actor.”
“I was simply surprised, is all.” Jade grins widely at him. “Although, perhaps I shouldn’t be—that was your type, wasn’t it?”
Arlo’s eyes widen, and then his face flushes bright red even as it immediately contorts in anger. “Shut up! I don’t have a type! And even if I did, he’s not—! Ugh! You’re so annoying! This is why Floyd is the better twin. I wish he would’ve eaten you.” He viciously continues insulting his fellow mer, all while Jade grins on victoriously.
Epel just stares on in despair. “So… not only do we still need to find another person, but Arlo will be there? With Neige?” He mentally starts calculating the chances of Arlo telling on him to Vil. Maybe he’ll be too distracted…? Or—
“Jade, I swear to the Great Seven if you say a single word more about this I will make sure to rip off your tail fins and eat them in front of you.” Arlo finishes, threat hissed in a low tone with his finger pointed at the other boy’s chest. It’s rather comical, considering the height difference, if only Arlo didn’t seem serious about it.
“Wh-?!” Sebek splutters from off to the side, having mostly stayed out of it yet maintaining a disappointed look. “Eat them—?!”
Arlo turns his frightening glare onto him next, anger not sparing a single person no matter their involvement. Epel, unfortunately, is used to it.
He sighs, “Uh… so you’ll be going to Harveston tomorrow too, then…?” He asks hesitantly, conscious of making the older boy even angrier.
The mer crosses his arms. “Yes. I suppose we’ll be seeing each other in the morning, then.” He scoffs.
“Right…”
“I’m leaving now.” Arlo announces, and then throws another glare at Jade, who seems to be radiating smug happiness. “Don’t talk to me.” He hisses.
“See you tomorrow.” Jade calls at his retreating back. Arlo makes a rude gesture over his shoulder.
“I see what you were saying now.” Sebek comments. “We’re better off without him on the team.”
“Yeah…” Epel sighs, “We still need a third person, though…”
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henry7931 · 2 days ago
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Swap Short: Thanksgiving Edition
Not My Cousin Andrew’s Body!
Jamie:
I loath the thought of Thanksgiving because my family is so freaking weird! Every year we get together and all of us stay in my Uncle’s house for the night before Thanksgiving. And right before bed all of us are forced to play this dumb game. We call it, ‘guess who.’ (Which is nothing like the board game btw.)
Basically everyone randomly swaps bodies with someone else and none of us know who’s in who. We all have to try our best at pretending to know whoever’s body we’re in that year. And the last two who don’t get guessed correctly basically win bragging rights and like $500. I personally don’t want to participate but I don’t have much of a choice.
So when I arrived at my Uncle’s house, I caught up with my family. I felt the my nerves kick in every time someone mentioned the game.
I looked around the room, thinking to myself who would I be comfortable being for a day. Probably my Uncle Peter or maybe my little cousin Davie. I haven’t swapped with either of them yet. But I know one person who I’d hate to swap bodies with… my cousin Andrew. I find him repulsive!
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He’s one of those far right guys who just has the most punchable face you’ve ever seen. He looks like he skips a bath every other day and I’m confident that he’s not a fan of gay people. I don’t know, I try to avoid him at all cost. Luckily I haven’t swapped with him yet and I’m hoping it stays that way.
By the time the night started to wrap up, I was so ready to go to bed. I say good night to everyone and laid in bed slowly falling asleep thinking about who I was going to be in the morning.
The Next Day…
As I wake up, it takes me a moment to get my bearings. It’s just so dark in the room but it doesn’t take me long to realize that I was no longer in the room I fell asleep in.
I stumble to find a lamp and turn it on. As I swing my new borrowed legs out of bed. I stared down at the feet that I now control.
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I don’t even get up quickly, my mind races eliminating who I could possibly be until i conform who’s stubby toes I’m looking at. Andrews.
“SHITTTT FUCKKK!!! WHHHYYYYYY!!!!”
I stand up feeling Andrew’s heavier frame move and almost want to cry. I look the in mirror confirming what I already knew.
“Well this fucking sucks.”
I stare at his reflection taking it all in when I realize something else. I’m hard as a rock right now.
The bulge underneath his pjs was begging for my attention. And I didn’t want anything to do with it.
I try to ignore it but it’s difficult. His body is just soo horny!
I walk myself through the logistics and my best conclusion was to just close my eyes and pretend I’m in my body.
So I lay back in bed and pull off the pajama bottoms. And the smell of ball sweat fills my nostrils.
My eyes are still closed and I reach down to touch his dick. As his fingers embrace his dick, I feel a rush come over me.
His dick… it’s so sensitive especially his cockhead.
I trace his fingers along his balls and feel so turned on. And it’s like I don’t even have pretend anymore that I’m still myself. Even in my cousins body, it’s kinda hot jerking off with someone else’s dick.
I pump faster and faster… I start to moan. I open my eyes and stare down at my cousin’s junk.
I bring his fingers up and sniff them… they smell like a jockstrap. Who knows the last time he’s washed his dick.
I pump faster and faster…
And then the freaking door swings open!
“What the fuck!”
It’s my body standing at the door. I thought about stopping but I’m too deep into it.
He slams the door shut and runs over.
“Jamie! What the hell dude!!! Stop playing with my dick in front of me.”
“I… can’t …stop! Your body… it’s too…. Horny!!”
“Shit! Here,” he says pulling my fingers off of his dick.
Andrew wraps his fingers around it and starts working it in a way that feels a million times better.
I can’t handle it! I end up cumming everywhere and he’s now soaked in it.
“Are you kidding me??? God of course this is what happens when I swap with my gay cousin!”
“Oh come on!! It’s your body, you think I wanted to do that?”
“Maybe! I don’t know, you’re the one who likes dick!”
“Well it looks like you enjoyed the show too!”
Andrew looks down and he’s now rocking a boner. His face turns red.
“Did you enjoy jerking yourself off?,” I say to him.
He looks away and groans. “Yeah… it was kinda hot.”
“Yeah well I have to say it was hot watching my body doing the work as well. You definitely know your way with your dick”
I look at my boner and get an idea.
I grab Andrew and tug him into bed.
“What are you doing?”
“A favor.”
I pull off the pair of shorts I had on last night and my dick comes flying out.
“Wait! Are you about to?”
I grab my dick and force it down Andrew’s throat.
“Holy shit!” he screams out.
I put in the work and feel him running my hands over his body.
I run my fingers down my balls to my taint and then my hole. He squirms and lets out a little noise as I insert his digits into my hole. He tries to complain until he realizes just how good it feels.
I then pull back and decided to try something a little more freaky.
I laugh to myself thinking about how much of a mind fuck this has to be for my conservative cousin. I take both of his feet and lick them.
“Fuckkkk why is that so hot to watch,” he says to me.
“Oh you like watching me lick your feet? What if I did this…”
I wrap his toes around my dick and start pumping. He’s moaning so loud now and ends up exploding all over them.
And reaches for one of his feet and rubs the cum covered foot on my face.
“Oh my god, that was… that was amazing…” he says out of breath.
I grin at him and say, “ I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“But don’t get any ideas! I’m not gay!!”
“Are you sure? Because you just rubbed your cum covered foot all over.”
He gets agitated and says, “YEAH WELL! ITS ONLY BECAUSE IM IN YOUR GAY ASS BODY!”
I laugh and say , “then why am I not attracted to girls then Andrew?”
“Well… that’s a good point.”
“So how about you whip off my face and go get ready for the day cuz.”
Andrew grabs my shorts and throws them on.
“Don’t forget my face!”
He turns around and grabs a rag. He whips it and throws it on the ground. I giggle loudly as he storms out of the room slamming the door.
“Shit, that almost made this worth it!,” I say laying back in his naked body.
The rest of the day was fun. Mainly because I got to fuck with Andrew the entire time and he couldn’t say shit!
Andrew sat across from me and I pulled off his shoes. And then just one sock.
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I sit back in the chair crossing my arms and stared at him while wiggling his toes.
Andrew gazes at them for a minute before standing up and storming out again.
As the day goes on, I watched my family trying there hardest to put up a front for everyone. My little cousin Davie was the first one out, ironically he swapped bodies with my uncle Peter.
He was pretty easy since he kept talking about how cool it was being an adult. Then it was my dad and my grandpa, then my aunt and her son… soon it came down to only four of us.
None of us were aloud to out one another. Now it’s up to the rest of the family to guess. You have my brother Ashton and my other Uncle Jessie. And then me and Andrew.
But it was one wrong guess that lead me to a victory. ✌️ Yep! I won the game (and so did Andrew technically).
We both got ushered to the front and they asked us to say a few words.
I speak up and say, “Well, I’m happy I swapped with Andrew this year. I feel like we got to know each other better and can’t say we’ve ever been closer. Is that right Andrew?” I say wrapping his strong arm around him.
“Yeah… I agree, we’re so much closer now.”
“Well good job guys!,” I says Uncle Pete in Davie body.
I grin and discreetly grab one of my butt cheeks which causes Andrew to blush.
I hear him say under his breath, “I hate you.”
“Yeah well, you got a few more hours and then we get to do this again next year,” I say softly back to him.
“Great…”
We all head to the dinner table and I purposely sit across from Andrew.
“So who’s ready for some turkey?”
159 notes · View notes
theonottsbxtch · 3 days ago
Text
COURAGE | OP81
an: i warn you ahead of time this faces the topic of substance abuse, if you or anyone you know needs help, please feel free to talk to me or here are links for who to talk to: united kingdom, united states, canada, europe. these are some of the links i've found, if you need help searching for one, my inbox is always open!
warnings: substance abuse, religous themes, mentions of death & hospitals.
wc: 4.6k
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The church bells rang out over the small town of Willow Creek, their low hum rolling through the autumn air like a solemn hymn. Oscar stood at the edge of his front porch, adjusting the cuffs of his Sunday shirt as he waited for her. He always waited for her.
She emerged moments later from her house next door, pulling her shawl tighter against the chill. The hem of her modest dress caught the breeze, brushing against her knees as she approached. She didn’t say much, she never did on Sundays. Her gaze, solemn and steady, flicked toward the church steeple visible from the end of the street.
“Ready?” Oscar asked, though he already knew the answer.
She nodded, her braid catching the sunlight as they started down the gravel path.
The girl was his best friend, his constant, the one person in this quiet town who felt as real to him as the chipped paint on his window frame or the threadbare pews at St. Anne’s.
Their routine was always the same: church in the morning, quiet afternoons spent sitting on his porch or hers, talking about scripture or nothing at all. It was an existence that felt safe and good, built on a foundation as steady as the faith they shared.
But something had shifted in her lately. He couldn’t place it, not exactly. She still walked with him to church. She still bowed her head during the prayers, her lips moving silently along with the hymns. But her eyes were somewhere else, distant and restless, as though her thoughts had wandered too far and couldn’t find their way home.
“I heard Father O’Connell mention the youth retreat next month,” Oscar said, breaking the silence as they neared the church steps. “He said he’s hoping for a big turnout this year. Are you thinking of going?”
She hesitated. The pause was brief, but it was there, and Oscar caught it like a pebble in his shoe.
“Maybe,” she said, her voice quieter than usual. Then she offered him a faint smile, the kind that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “We’ll see.”
Oscar didn’t press her. He never did. But as they entered the church, he couldn’t help but notice the way her hand lingered at the edge of her shawl, clutching it like a tether.
It started with small things.
Oscar didn’t think much of it when she skipped their afternoon talks one Sunday. Her mum had said she wasn’t feeling well, and that made sense. People got sick; life happened. But then she missed the next Sunday, too. And the one after that.
She stopped coming to the Wednesday youth group meetings at church, which was even stranger. For as long as he could remember, she’d been one of the first to volunteer for scripture readings or help organise bake sales. Now, her name wasn’t even on the signup sheets.
Oscar wanted to ask her about it, but he couldn’t figure out how. It wasn’t like they had a friendship built on confrontation. They’d grown up side by side in the same pews, their lives as intertwined as the ivy creeping up the churchyard walls. But it was a quiet bond, one where words weren’t always necessary.
That’s what made the silence feel so loud.
One Friday afternoon, after work, Oscar saw her for the first time in weeks. She was sitting on the front steps of her house, legs crossed, the heel of her shoe tapping a restless rhythm against the wood.
“Hey,” he called as he approached, hands in his pockets. “Haven’t seen you around.”
She looked up, her expression unreadable. “Yeah, I’ve been busy.”
Busy. The word felt wrong coming from her, like a puzzle piece jammed into the wrong spot.
“Your mum said you were sick,” he said, testing the waters.
Her eyes flickered, just for a moment. “Yeah. That too.”
He leaned against the porch railing, watching her closely. There was something different about her, but he couldn’t pin it down. Her braid was still neat, her dress still modest, but the way she sat—loose, almost careless—was unfamiliar.
“You coming to youth group next week?” he asked, trying to keep his tone light.
She shrugged. “Probably not.”
“Why not?”
She looked at him then, really looked at him, and he felt like she was seeing through him instead of at him.
“Just not my thing right now,” she said, and there was an edge to her voice he didn’t recognise.
Oscar frowned. “You’ve been going for years.”
“Yeah, well,” she said, standing abruptly. “People change.”
And just like that, she disappeared inside, leaving Oscar alone on the porch with the sound of her footsteps echoing in his ears.
Over the next few weeks, Oscar saw less and less of her. When he did see her, she wasn’t the same.
The first time he noticed the guy, it was at the diner on Main Street. She was sitting in a booth near the window, her back to him, but he recognised her laugh instantly. She wasn’t alone.
The guy was tall, older, with a leather jacket slung over the back of his chair. He leaned in close when he talked to her, his hand brushing her arm like it was the most natural thing in the world. Oscar stood outside the diner for a long time, watching them through the glass.
When she turned her head and laughed again, Oscar caught a glimpse of her face. There was something wild in her expression, something unrestrained and electric. It scared him.
He didn’t tell her he’d seen her. He wasn’t sure why.
But the next Sunday, when her mum stopped him on his way to church, the worry in her eyes told him she’d seen it too.
“Have you talked to her?” her mum asked, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. “She’s… I don’t know what’s going on with her. She won’t talk to me.”
Oscar didn’t know what to say.
“I’m sure it’s just a phase,” he offered weakly.
Her mum smiled, but it was the kind of smile people gave at funerals.
“I hope so,” she said.
The next time Oscar saw her, it wasn’t at church or on her front porch. It was behind the convenience store on Elm Street, just after dusk.
He had been walking home, the kind of mindless stroll he often took when his thoughts got too loud. The streets were mostly empty, the only sounds the faint hum of a streetlamp and the crunch of gravel beneath his shoes.
He heard her before he saw her. Laughter—sharp, jagged, and nothing like the laugh he remembered. It came from the alley behind the store, followed by the low murmur of voices.
Oscar turned the corner, and there she was.
She leaned against the brick wall, her arms crossed loosely over her chest, a cigarette dangling from her fingers. The glow of the lighter in the guy’s hand caught her face just long enough for Oscar to see the hollow beneath her eyes, the strange way her smile curled at the edges, like she wasn’t entirely sure it belonged there.
The guy was the same one from the diner, older and out of place in this small town. He said something to her, and she threw her head back in laughter, her voice ringing out into the quiet night.
Oscar froze. She looked so different. Her braid was gone, her hair loose and tangled, framing a face that seemed sharper, thinner. Her clothes were casual but careless, like she’d grabbed the first things within reach. She didn’t look like the girl he’d grown up with—the girl who bowed her head in prayer and scolded him when he skipped scripture reading. She looked like someone else entirely.
The guy noticed Oscar first. He smirked, nudging her with his elbow. “Friend of yours?”
She turned her head, her smile fading when she saw him. For a moment, something flickered in her expression—guilt, maybe, or shame—but it was gone as quickly as it came.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice sharper than he expected.
“I could ask you the same thing,” he said, his throat dry.
She rolled her eyes and took a drag from the cigarette, exhaling smoke into the cold air. “It’s none of your business, Oscar.”
“It is my business,” he said, stepping closer. “You’re my friend.”
She laughed, but it was a brittle sound, lacking any real warmth. “Yeah, well, friends don’t follow each other around like lost puppies.”
Oscar felt the words like a slap, but he didn’t back down. “This isn’t you,” he said quietly. “What are you doing with him?”
The guy smirked again, clearly enjoying the tension. “Relax, man. She’s fine.”
“No one asked you,” Oscar snapped, his voice louder than he intended.
The guy raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll leave you two to it.” He handed her the lighter, brushing her fingers with his in a way that made Oscar’s stomach turn, and walked off down the alley.
She didn’t look at Oscar right away. Instead, she stared at the lighter in her hand, turning it over like it was a puzzle she couldn’t solve.
“I’m fine,” she said finally, her voice softer but still distant. “You don’t have to worry about me.”
“You’re not fine,” Oscar said, his frustration bubbling over. “You’ve stopped coming to church. You won’t talk to your mum. And now you’re…” He trailed off, gesturing helplessly toward the cigarette still in her hand.
She sighed, tilting her head back against the wall. “I don’t need a lecture, okay? I get enough of that at home.”
“I’m not trying to lecture you,” he said, his voice cracking. “I just… I don’t understand. Why are you doing this?”
Her gaze flicked to his, and for a brief moment, he saw something raw in her eyes—pain, anger, maybe even fear. But then she blinked, and the mask was back.
“Maybe I’m tired of being the perfect little Catholic girl,” she said, her tone light but cutting. “Did you ever think of that?”
Oscar stared at her, searching for the girl he knew beneath the stranger in front of him. “This isn’t you,” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.
She pushed off the wall, brushing past him. “Maybe you never really knew me.”
And just like that, she was gone, leaving him standing alone in the alley, the faint scent of smoke lingering in the air.
That night, Oscar lay awake, staring at the cracks in his ceiling. He wanted to help her, to pull her out of whatever dark place she’d fallen into, but he didn’t know how. She wouldn’t let him.
For the first time in years, he prayed not for himself, but for her.
“God,” he whispered into the stillness of his room. “Please. Bring her back.”
It became a pattern.
Oscar would see her slipping further away, each time a little less like the girl he had grown up with and a little more like a stranger. Sometimes it was behind the convenience store. Other times he saw her stumbling out of a car that didn’t belong in their quiet town, the headlights cutting through the dark as it sped off, leaving her swaying on the curb.
She wasn’t hiding it anymore.
When their paths crossed now, she barely looked at him. Her words, when she offered any, were short and cold, like she was daring him to stop caring. But he couldn’t stop.
So he prayed.
Every night, he knelt by his bed, his hands clasped tightly together, his eyes shut so hard it hurt. He prayed for her to come back, for her to see what she was doing to herself. He prayed for the strength to find the right words, the right actions, anything to pull her out of this spiral. But every morning, when he saw her again—laughing too loud, her eyes bloodshot and empty—it felt like no one was listening.
One night, well past midnight, there was a knock on his window. He woke with a start, his heart pounding, and stumbled to open it. She was standing there, her hair tangled and wild, her face streaked with something he couldn’t tell if it was makeup or tears.
“You need to stop,” she said, her voice slurred but venomous.
“Stop what?” he asked, his voice barely audible.
“Praying for me,” she snapped. “I know you’re doing it. Just… stop.”
Her words stung, but what hurt more was the way she looked at him—like he was the enemy. Before he could respond, she turned and disappeared into the night, leaving him standing in the cold.
A week later, it was her mum who knocked—not on his window, but on his door.
Oscar opened it to find her standing on the porch, her face pale and drawn, her eyes red from crying. She looked older than he’d ever seen her, like the weight of the world had settled on her shoulders and wouldn’t let go.
“Hi, Ms,” he said, stepping aside to let her in.
She didn’t move. Instead, she stood there, clutching the edge of her sweater like it was the only thing keeping her together. “Oscar,” she began, her voice trembling. “I didn’t know who else to come to.”
He felt his stomach sink. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s her,” she said, her voice cracking. “She’s… I don’t know what’s happening to her. She barely comes home anymore. And when she does…” She broke off, pressing a hand to her mouth.
Oscar didn’t need her to finish. He’d seen it all himself.
“I’ve tried talking to her,” Her mother continued, her words spilling out in a rush. “I’ve begged her to stop, to come back to church, to tell me what’s going on, but she won’t listen. She doesn’t even look at me anymore. And now…” She trailed off again, her shoulders shaking as tears filled her eyes.
Oscar reached out instinctively, placing a hand on her arm. “Ms…”
She shook her head, brushing his hand away. “I don’t know what to do, Oscar. She’s slipping away from me, and I can’t stop it. I thought maybe you could… I don’t know. Talk to her. Get through to her. She listens to you, doesn’t she?”
The desperation in her voice was like a knife in his chest.
“She used to,” he admitted, his throat tight. “But not anymore. She won’t let me help her. I’ve tried. I’ve tried so many times.”
Her face crumpled, and she let out a sob, covering her face with her hands. “She’s all I have,” she choked out. “It’s just me and her. I don’t know how to do this alone.”
Oscar hesitated, his heart breaking at the sight of her. He wanted to promise her that he could fix everything, that he’d bring her daughter back, but the words wouldn’t come. He didn’t know if he could keep that promise.
Instead, he did the only thing he could think of. He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her. She stiffened for a moment, then broke down completely, her sobs muffled against his shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his own voice shaking. “I’m so sorry.”
They stood like that for what felt like an eternity, the house silent except for her quiet, broken cries.
When she finally pulled away, wiping her eyes, she gave him a look so full of raw hope it made his chest ache. “Please, Oscar,” she said. “Don’t give up on her.”
He nodded, though his heart was heavy with doubt. “I won’t.”
But as he watched her walk back across the front garden to her house, the weight of the promise settled over him like a stone. He didn’t know how to save someone who didn’t want saving.
So that night, like every night before, he knelt by his bed and prayed.
“God,” he whispered into the darkness, his voice trembling. “Please. Show me what to do.”
That night the ringing of his phone jolted Oscar out of a restless sleep. For a moment, he thought it was his alarm, but the screen glowed faintly in the dark: Unknown Number.
He rubbed his eyes and answered, his voice groggy. “Hello?”
The sound on the other end wasn’t words at first. It was crying—deep, heaving sobs that clawed at his chest before he even recognised her voice.
“It’s me,” she managed between gasps.
Oscar sat up so quickly the blankets slid off his lap. “Where are you? What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know,” she choked out. “I’m… I’m at this party, and I—I took something, and now I can’t—” Her voice cracked, and she let out another sob. “I feel so weird, Oscar. I feel like I’m dying.”
His heart dropped. “You’re not dying,” he said quickly, already grabbing his keys from the nightstand. “You’re not. I’m coming to get you. Just tell me where you are.”
She mumbled the address through her tears, barely coherent, but he caught enough to recognise the street. It was across town, the kind of neighborhood he tried to avoid.
“Stay where you are,” he said, his voice shaking. “Don’t move. I’m on my way.”
He hung up and bolted for the door, his chest tight with fear.
The streets were eerily quiet as he sped through town, the glow of his headlights slicing through the darkness. His mind raced faster than the car, flashing through every worst-case scenario he could imagine. He gripped the wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white, his foot pressing harder on the gas.
When he turned onto the street, he knew he was in the right place. Cars were lined haphazardly along the curb, some with doors still hanging open. Music blared from the house, but the sound was disjointed, chaotic.
And then he saw them.
A wave of people surged out the front door, spilling into the front garden and onto the street. They were shouting, laughing, some tripping over themselves in their haste to leave. Oscar pulled over and jumped out of the car, his heart pounding.
“What’s going on?” he yelled at one of them, grabbing a guy by the arm.
“Cops are coming,” the guy slurred, shaking him off. “Some girl OD’d, man. It’s bad.”
Oscar didn’t wait to hear more. He shoved his way through the crowd, pushing against the flow of bodies until he reached the front door. The smell hit him first—alcohol, smoke, and something sour underneath.
Inside, the scene was chaos. The music was still blaring, but most of the partygoers were gone, leaving behind overturned cups and broken bottles. He stepped over a pile of discarded coats and followed the sound of a frantic voice.
In the living room, he found her.
She was lying on the floor, her face pale, looking like nothing he’d ever seen before. A girl about their age was kneeling beside her, pressing her hands against her chest in a desperate rhythm.
“Come on,” the girl muttered, her voice shaking. “Come on, don’t do this.” She glanced up briefly, her phone pressed to her ear. “Yeah, I’m doing compressions,” she said into the receiver. “Please, hurry.”
Oscar froze for a moment, the sight stealing the air from his lungs. She looked so small, so fragile. Her hair was damp with sweat, her lips tinged blue.
The girl performing CPR looked up again, her eyes wild. “Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to help?”
Her words jolted him into motion. He dropped to his knees beside them, his hands trembling as he reached for her. “What happened?” he asked, his voice cracking.
“I don’t know,” the girl snapped. “She took something—pills, I think. Someone said it was laced, but I don’t know with what.” 
Oscar’s hands hovered uselessly over her, his mind racing. He didn’t know what to do. He’d never been trained for this, never thought he’d need to be.
But he knew he needed to do something, looking at the girl in front of him, he watched her hands and pushed them aside, continuing for her. 
“She went upstairs to take a phone call, walked back in and collapsed.” The girl sat back on her heels, then leaned forward to blow two breaths into her mouth. “They thought it was a joke at first, but it all got so serious all of a sudden.” Oscar continued the same rhythm on her chest, watching as the girl flexed her hands nervously. Underneath his breath, he was silently praying that someone was listening, because in the last couple of weeks he was beginning to lose faith. No one listened to him when he was desperate, begging for someone to save her.
“Stay with me,” the other girl murmured, her voice cracking as tears streamed down her face. “Don’t you dare give up.”
The distant wail of sirens broke through the chaos, growing louder with every passing second. Relief flooded Oscar’s chest, but it was fleeting. He looked down at her pale, lifeless face and felt the weight of every prayer he’d ever whispered.
“God,” he said under his breath, his voice breaking. “Please. Don’t take her.”
The sirens grew deafening as the paramedics burst through the door. Oscar was pulled back, forced to watch as they took over, their voices calm but urgent as they worked to save her.
He didn’t realise he was crying until he tasted salt on his lips.
As they loaded her onto a stretcher and wheeled her out the door, Oscar followed, his legs unsteady but his resolve firm. He wasn’t leaving her—not now, not ever.
He watched them close the doors of the back of the ambulance and ran back to his car to follow them when he saw the girl weakly walk out of the house. He could have just left her, but she had just saved his best friend’s life. Instead, he walked back up to the house, hugged her and offered her a lift.
When Oscar finally got to the hospital, it was cold and quiet in a way that felt wrong, like it was holding its breath. Oscar sat in the hard plastic chair next to her bed, his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped tightly together. He had barely spoken to anyone since they arrived, giving only short, clipped answers to the nurses’ questions.
He didn’t know how long he sat there, staring at her pale face, willing her to wake up. The IV in her arm looked too big, too intrusive, and the steady beeping of the heart monitor was the only thing anchoring him to the moment.
Finally, her eyelids fluttered.
He shot upright, his breath catching as she groaned softly, her head turning toward him. Her eyes opened slowly, unfocused and heavy, but when they landed on him, recognition flickered.
“Oscar?” she croaked, her voice barely audible.
Tears sprang to his eyes, and he let out a shaky laugh that was more relief than joy. “Yeah, it’s me,” he said, his voice thick. He reached for her hand, squeezing it gently. “You scared the hell out of me.”
He never cursed. 
She blinked, her gaze shifting to the IV in her arm, the sterile hospital room around her. “What happened?”
“You don’t remember?” he asked, his voice breaking.
She shook her head weakly, then winced. “I… I don’t know. I was at the party, and then…” Her voice trailed off, her brows furrowing as if the memory was too painful to touch.
Oscar leaned closer, his face inches from hers. “What were you thinking?” he asked, his voice low but trembling. “Do you have any idea what could’ve happened to you? You could’ve—” He stopped himself, his chest heaving as he swallowed back the lump in his throat.
This wasn’t what she needed to hear.
She looked away, tears slipping down her cheeks. “I didn’t mean to,” she whispered. “I didn’t think it would…”
Oscar let out a shuddering breath, running a hand through his hair. “I thought I lost you,” he admitted, his voice barely audible.
They sat in silence, the weight of his words hanging between them.
A nurse came in not long after, checking her vitals and saying she’d be discharged soon. Oscar nodded numbly, his mind already racing.
When they stepped out of the hospital, the chill of the early morning air hit them both. He helped her to the car, her steps unsteady, and buckled her into the passenger seat. She leaned her head against the window, her eyes glassy and distant.
“I’ll call your mum,” he said, turning the key in the ignition.
“No,” she said quickly, her voice hoarse but firm.
Oscar paused, his hand on the wheel. “I need to tell her. I stopped the hospital from calling her.”
“Please, don’t,” she said, her voice breaking. She turned to him, her eyes pleading. “I can’t face her right now.”
He hesitated, the conflict written all over his face. “What do you want me to do?” he asked finally, his voice soft.
“Just drive,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
So he did.
They didn’t talk as the car rumbled down the empty highway. The radio was off, the only sounds the hum of the engine and the occasional rustle of her shifting in her seat.
She didn’t cry, but her silence was heavy, and Oscar didn’t push her. He kept his eyes on the road, his hands gripping the wheel tightly.
After a couple of hours, her breathing evened out, and when he glanced over, he saw that she’d fallen asleep, her face turned toward him, her expression soft but exhausted.
He sighed, his chest aching with a mix of relief and sadness. He took the next exit and drove toward her house.
When they arrived, it was still early, the sky a pale gray as dawn broke. He parked in front of her house, then got out and walked around to her side. Carefully, he opened the door and unbuckled her seatbelt, slipping an arm under her knees and another around her back.
She stirred slightly as he lifted her, but she didn’t wake. Her head lolled against his chest, and he carried her up the porch steps and knocked softly on the door.
It swung open almost immediately, and her mum stood there, her face a mixture of worry and exhaustion. When she saw her daughter in his arms, she let out a strangled cry, her hands flying to her mouth.
“She’s okay,” Oscar said quickly, his voice gentle. “She’s just sleeping.”
Her mum nodded, tears streaming down her face. She stepped aside, and he carried her inside, laying her gently on the sofa.
Her mother sank to her knees beside her, sobbing quietly as she brushed the hair from her daughter’s face. “Thank you,” she whispered, looking up at Oscar. “Thank you for bringing her home.”
Oscar knelt beside her, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “She’s going to be okay,” he said softly, though he wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince her or himself.
They sat there for a while, her mum’s quiet cries filling the silence.
Eventually, Oscar cleared his throat. “Do you have a spare set of sheets?” he asked.
She looked at him, confused. “Why?”
“I’m going to stay,” he said. “Just for tonight. I’ll sleep on the floor. I want to make sure she’s okay.”
Her mum nodded, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. “Thank you,” she said again, her voice breaking.
Later, after setting up a makeshift bed on the floor beside the couch, Oscar lay there, staring at the ceiling. The room was quiet now, her mum having gone to bed, but he could hear her breathing softly above him.
He closed his eyes and whispered another prayer, one of gratitude this time.
“Thank you,” he murmured. “Thank you for giving her another chance.”
And for the first time in a long time, he felt like someone was listening.
the end.
130 notes · View notes
rebelliousstories · 2 days ago
Text
Rain Check
Relationship: Aaron Hotchner x Reader
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Request: No
Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Mentions of a Case involving a Child (No Mentions of Death)
Word Count: 1,672
Main Masterlist: Here
Criminal Minds Masterlist: Here
Summary: When the team gets called out of town the day before Thanksgiving, Aaron has to beg for forgiveness from his wife. But the next week they’re home, he learns that he shouldn’t have felt guilty.
Consider Donating: Here
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“We should certainly count our blessings, but we should also make out blessings count.” Neil A. Maxwell
Oh, his wife was going to kill him. This is how he went out. Aaron Hotchner, the formidable Unit Chief of the BAU, was slightly panicking as he was packing up his briefcase to take with him on the plane. His phone was out to call his wife, who was preparing for Thanksgiving dinner the next day, to tell her that they had been called out of town.
He sighed as he ran a hand across his forehead, already feeling the stress headache coming on from having to call her. This was going to be their first Thanksgiving as a married couple, and he had just hoped that they were able to have it. But, of course, that was not what the psycho and sociopaths of the world have in store for him.
There was one, two, three rings before her sweet honeyed voice answered with a cheerful, “Mr. Hotchner, to what do I owe this midday personal call? Not that I’m complaining.”
“Hey, honey. I’m uh- notgonnabehometomrrow,” he mumbled as fast as he could, causing her to have him repeat it.
“I won’t be home tomorrow for Thanksgiving. The team got called out to Nebraska on a child kidnapping case.” Aaron heard her take in a deep breath, and release it in a long sigh on the other end of the line.
“I am so sorry, honey. I know we had all those plans made, and you can still go have dinner with your family. I just… the team.” The longer he tried to justify his actions, the worse he felt about himself.
“Do you know when you’ll be home,” came her soft ask.
“No. These things, especially kidnapping cases, we never can predict how they’ll turn out. I’m hoping we’ll be home soon.”
“Okay. I’ll take Jack with me to dinner tomorrow. We’ll be fine, Aaron. Just focus on catching the bad guy.”
How he wished he could have. It had been five days since they touched down in Kearney, Nebraska. Five days, and they were right back to square one. Firstly, this unsub was crafty. He managed to throw suspension off of whomever it was and get another guy arrested. Every lead was turning out to be a dead end. And Aaron was pissed.
He had talked with his wife a little bit every morning and every night that he had been gone, but it did not hold a candle to the need he felt to be home. As he sat around the conference table they had been granted, Aaron pulled a bit on his tie to get it to loosen. A cup of mediocre cop shop coffee was placed in front of him, and an Italian sat next to him.
“I’m not gong to ask if you’re alright, because I know the answer to that. But I will say, it’s going to be fine.” The wisdom in his voice caused the younger man to stare him from where his chair was leaned back.
“I just want to go home, Dave. I want this case over with, and to go home. We never take this long on kidnappings. There has to be something that we’re missing.” The unit chief lamented, turning his face to the ceiling and shielding his eyes with his hands.
“We’ll catch him, Aaron. We always do. Don’t worry. Whether it’s a blessing or a curse, we haven’t found a body which means the kid is probably still alive.” Dave reassured, watching his friend closely.
“I know you were looking forward to spend the holiday with your lovely wife, but this is the job. Besides, she is more than likely not as upset as you think. Just put your head in the game, so we can get home sooner.” Rossi patted his knee, and left, shutting the door behind him. All that was left in the room was Hotch, the evidence board, and his own racing thoughts.
As much as he tried to remain focused, he could not help but think of his wife. And in doing so, he thought back to Hailey. She had only been able to take so much of him as unit chief before she threw in the towel. Would his current wife do the same if he kept having to cancel major and minor holidays for the sake of the team?
That was something that he never cared to think about, but it was a very real possibility. Hotch grabbed the cup of coffee and turned to the board behind him. The girl that had disappeared was the same age as Jack. She needed him now. Aaron really needed his head in the game. But the longer he stared at the evidence board, the more questions he got.
Had this girl been a newborn, he would have thought that this was a female abduction. Like a lightbulb flicking on, he sprang from his seat, and called the rest of the team in. From that point on, it was only a matter of time.
Coming home after six days away was like a breath of fresh air. It was late, almost midnight, when Hotch dragged his tired bones to the front door of his apartment. When he got inside, the sight made him chuckle as he disarmed his security system.
His wife was asleep on the couch with a bunch of laundry spread out around her. It honestly looked like a little nest that she had made for herself. Setting down his briefcase, and carefully stepping over the piles, his hand made contact with her arm and gently shook her awake.
“Aar, you’re home,” she mumbled sleepily.
“Yeah, I am. Let’s get you to bed, Mrs. Hotchner.” Aaron picked his wife up with little difficulty, before turning and making their way to bed. He placed her underneath their sheets, kissed her head, and went to take a shower.
His memory never recorded himself falling asleep, but he knew he did. Purely, for the simple fact that he awoke the next morning in his bed, with his wife already out of it. However, after checking the time on the clock, Aaron rushed to get ready to go into work. He took the fastest shower, put his suit on in record time, and was rushing to lace up his shoes.
“Good morning, dear. Why are you in such a hurry?”
Aaron paused in between doing the laces from tying his left shoe to look up to where his wife was standing in the kitchen. His mug was sitting on the table with some steaming coffee in it. A plate was in front of it filled with eggs, sausage, and toast.
“Um…” he trailed off, “going to work? It’s Tuesday.”
“Dave got you and the team the day off. Go change into something more comfortable, sweetie.” She giggled as she waved him off, back to the bedroom. As he did, he saw the counters filled with different preparations of side dishes. It confused him, but he was just thankful for the day off.
Coming back, Hotch was grateful that he could enjoy his day with his wife. He took his plate and pressed a kiss to her cheek while she went to sit with her own plate beside him. While they ate, she asked about the case they had just wrapped. Normally, this was not something that he liked bringing up, however, it felt nice to get it off of his chest.
Occasionally, when cases are this rough and long, it takes longer for him to decompress after the fact. Figuring out that someone was kidnapping a young girl to protect his wife that could not grapple with the fact that their daughter was dead; it was not something that you could easily comprehend. But, being able to talk to his wife and not a bureau mandated therapist was defiantly preferable.
Being able to go pick his son up from school was a welcomed change. However, his wife made sure to tell the Hotchner boys the second they got home to go get changed. He did not know why. All he knew was that the two adults, and Jack, were grabbing warmed dishes and heading out.
“Where are we going,” came his ask.
“You’ll see,” she replied.
The further they derived, the more he began to recognize the route they were on. Rossi’s mansion was quickly coming into view as they made the final turn into the driveway. Grabbing the dishes, the Hotchner’s went to the front door, and were greeted by their favorite Italian.
“Señora Hotchner, how I have missed you beautiful.” Dave pulled her in and took the dish from her hands with a kiss to each cheek.
“And I have missed you, Mr. Rossi.” Jack and Aaron followed after them. They were also greeted by Dave, and they placed their other dishes on the table outside, where a bunch of other food was already.
However, there was a sight that he never expected. The entire team was outside in the backyard. It was a massive party that he had no idea was going on. Garcia was with Derek and Emily already drinking wine. Will sat with Spencer who was shouting Henry magic tricks in the mean time.
Turning back to look at his wife who smirking an impish smile, he was confused, and knew it showed through on his face.
“I know you were upset about missing Thanksgiving last week. So I talked with Dave about maybe doing a redo.” Before he could stop himself, Aaron swooped down and kissed his wife passionately.
“Well, that is definitely one way to say thank you.” She said with a dazed smile.
“Come on, love birds. Let’s get this started.” Dave guided them to their seats, while Aaron was just thinking how thankful he was to have a wife like he did.
Catherine Pulsifier said, “Give thanks not just on Thanksgiving Day, but every day of your life.”
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the-winter-spider · 2 days ago
Text
Invisible | Part 23
Bucky x reader AU
Word Count: 4.1k
Warnings: Tiny smidge of brief angst, but flufffff
A/N: Only a few more chapters to go..... 😭🫶🏻
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The warm scent of roasted vegetables and garlic filled Sam’s apartment as he moved around the kitchen, Wanda and Natasha chatting at the table. A few candles flickered on the counter, their soft light casting a cozy glow. The night had started lighthearted, with jokes and reminiscing about old times, but there was an underlying tension—Sam had been quieter than usual.
As the three of them sat down to eat, Sam finally cleared his throat, breaking the casual flow of conversation. “So, there’s something I need to tell you both.”
Wanda and Natasha exchanged curious glances, but Natasha was the first to speak. “What’s up?”
Sam sighed, running a hand over his face. “I’ve been offered a big promotion at the VA. It’s… it’s a lot more responsibility, a lot more pay, and honestly, it’s kind of my dream job.”
“That’s amazing!” Wanda said, clapping her hands together. “Congratulations, Sammy! You deserve it.”
Natasha smiled, but her brow furrowed slightly. “That is amazing! Buuuuut, why do you look like someone just told you your dog died?”
Sam let out a nervous laugh, fiddling with the edge of his napkin. “Because there’s a catch. The job’s in Washington... I’ll be moving in a week and a half.”
The table fell silent. Wanda’s excitement dimmed slightly, her smile softening. “Oh, Sam… that’s… wow.”
Natasha leaned back in her chair, her lips pressing into a thin line. “That’s a big change.”
“It is,” Sam admitted. “But it’s the right move for me. And don’t get me wrong, I’m excited, but leaving all of you behind? That’s the hard part.”
Wanda reached across the table, placing a hand over his. “We’re happy for you, Sam. Really. We’ll miss you, but this is huge.”
Natasha nodded in agreement. “Yeah, we’ll miss you like crazy, but you’ve got to do what’s best for you, and we'll always be here you know that"
Sam smiled, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Thanks, guys that really means a lot.”
Sam took a sip of his beer, his eyes darting between Wanda and Natasha as if he was working up the nerve to say something else.
“Who else knows?” Wanda asked cutting him off, taking a sip of her beer.
“Well, now that you both know, I should probably let you in on a little secret,” Sam said, his tone teasing but hesitant. “You two are actually the last ones to find out, don't hate me"
Natasha raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “The last ones?” she asked, her voice tinged with mock offense. “Wow, Sam. Save the best for last?”
Sam chuckled. “Exactly. Had to save the best for last, thats right!.... I told Bucky first—obviously…then Y/N, then Steve.”
Wanda leaned forward, smirking. “So, basically, you told everyone else first.”
“Listen,” Sam said, holding his hands up defensively. “I wanted to tell everyone together, but, uh, let’s just say there’s been a lot going on lately.” His gaze flicked to Natasha for a split second before he looked away.
Natasha narrowed her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Sam hesitated, taking another sip of his beer. “Well, I, uh… I heard about what Steve said to her after the whole thing between you two.”
Natasha froze, her expression hardening. “What do you mean? What did Steve say?”
Sam’s lips parted, then closed as he struggled to find the right words. Wanda’s head whipped toward him. “You’re not just gonna leave us hanging, are you?”
Sam sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Look, it’s not really my place to say what exactly happened. But… yeah, I heard about it all"
Natasha’s jaw tightened, her fingers curling around the edge of the table. “We haven’t talked all week. After I told her we, I needed space, we’ve been taking that seriously this time.”
Wanda nodded slowly, her voice soft. “She hasn’t mentioned it to me either. We’ve just been talking about the little trip Bucky planned for them.”
"What trip?" Natasha questioned "I didn't know about a trip"
Wanda sighed "They're at that Cabin you all went to for summer when you were kids, and too be fair you asked for space from her not the other way around, probably why she didn't tell you...."
Natasja groaned rubbing her hands over her eyes. Sam’s gaze softened, his usual teasing edge replaced with concern. “Nat, I think she's been through a lot lately. She didn’t tell me much, but I know she ran into Steve after she left you, and well he said some pretty outta pocket things to her.”
Natasha blinked, her mouth opening and closing as if trying to process his words. “What… what things?”
Sam shook his head. “It’s not my story to tell.... But from what I’ve pieced together, She’s been carrying a lot on her shoulders—between the things with you, what Steve said both times, and just… everything.”
Natasha’s expression was unreadable, her eyes distant. After a long pause, she murmured, “I should’ve handled things better. I let my feelings get in the way, and now…”
Sam reached across the table, resting his hand on hers. “Nat, it’s not too late. You and her have been through worse and come out stronger. Just… don’t let this fester for too long”
Natasha’s lips pressed into a thin line, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t even know where to start.”
Wanda gave her a reassuring smile. “Start by talking to her. You know she’s always willing to hear you out, you’re besties for a reason”
Sam nodded, his tone firm but kind. “Exactly. You’ve both been through too much together to let something like this tear you apart.”
Natasha exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair. “I’ll try. I just… I didn’t realize how much I let this all spiral. Ugh, thanks guys.”
He gave her a small grin. “Hey, what are friends for? Besides, I can’t move away knowing my kids aren’t playing nice.”
Wanda burst into laughter, smacking his arm playfully. “Your kids?”
“Yeah,” Sam said, shrugging with mock seriousness. “I need all my children to get along before I leave. I can’t abandon this dysfunctional little family otherwise.”
Natasha let out a reluctant chuckle, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. “Okay, Dad. We’ll figure it out.”
Sam raised his beer. “That’s all I ask. Now, who’s ready for dessert? I made brownies, and I’m not letting you two leave without trying them.”
As the brownies were passed around the table, the mood lightened, but Sam couldn’t shake the subtle tension radiating from Natasha. He glanced at Wanda, who gave him an encouraging nod, as if silently urging him to address the elephant in the room, the one between him and Wanda, the one Natasha didn't even know about. Wanda only knew because she got here 30 minutes before Natasha and Sam thought who better to ask if he should tell her what he knew than someone who lived with Natasha 24/7 and knew her like the back of her hand.
Sam took a deep breath, setting down his beer. “Hey, Nat,” he started casually, but there was a seriousness to his tone that made her look up. “There’s, uh… something else I think you should know.”
Natasha raised an eyebrow, already bracing herself. “What now, Sam? You moving to the moon next?”
He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Nah, this one’s not about me. It’s about Steve.”
Her posture stiffened at the mention of his name, but she tried to play it off. “What about him?”
Sam leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “When I talked to Steve recently, he mentioned something… about you.”
Natasha’s eyes narrowed, her lips tightening. “What exactly did he say?”
Wanda’s gaze darted between them, her brow furrowing with concern. “Sam, don’t dance around it.”
He sighed, running a hand over his face. “Look, she told Steve that you’re in love with him.”
Natasha froze, her eyes widening for a split second before narrowing into a sharp glare. “She what?”
Sam held up his hands defensively. “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. She didn’t mean anything by it. It just… came out.”
Natasha pushed back from the table, standing abruptly. “Why the hell would she say that? That wasn’t hers to tell.”
Wanda reached out, trying to calm her. “Nat, wait—”
“No, Wanda,” Natasha snapped, pacing the length of the kitchen. “I didn’t want him to know! Not like that. Not—God, why would she do that?”
Sam stood, keeping his voice calm. “Because she thought he deserved to know, Nat. She wasn’t trying to hurt you. She cares about you, and she thought—”
“Thought what?” Natasha interrupted, spinning on her heel to face him. “That I needed her to play matchmaker? That I couldn’t handle my own feelings?”
“Natasha,” Wanda said gently, standing as well. “She didn’t mean to overstep. You know she’s just been trying to keep everyone together.”
Natasha scoffed, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. “Well, she’s doing a great job of it, isn’t she?”
Sam sighed, stepping closer. “Nat, come on. You know her. She’s not trying to make things worse. She’s just… juggling a lot right now. And so are you.”
Natasha shook her head, her frustration palpable. “I don’t even know what to do with this. Steve hasn’t said a damn thing to me about it. Does he know how humiliating that is?”
Sam hesitated, then spoke carefully. “Maybe he’s trying to figure it out... You’ve had feelings for him for years, and he’s been untangling his own mess with her. It’s a lot for everyone.”
Natasha’s jaw tightened, her emotions warring on her face. After a long moment, she sighed, her shoulders slumping. “I just… I didn’t want him to know like this. It feels so… exposed.”
The tension in the kitchen hung heavy as Natasha paced, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Wanda, seated at the small dining table with her glass of wine, raised her hands to diffuse the brewing storm. “Okay, but to be fair, Nat… you meddled between Bucky and Y/N for years. You practically shoved them together.”
Natasha stopped mid-step, her head snapping toward Wanda. “That’s different.”
Sam, leaning casually against the counter with a brownie in one hand and a beer in the other, raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? How exactly is it different?”
Natasha’s jaw tightened, her voice clipped. “Because they were obviously in love with each other. Anyone with eyes could see that. They just needed a push—a little guidance.”
Wanda wasn’t buying it, her expression skeptical. “And what exactly do you think you and Steve are?”
Natasha rolled her eyes, exasperated. “That’s not the same, Wanda. Steve doesn’t…” Her words faltered, the usually sharp edge of her tone softening just slightly. “He doesn’t feel that way about me.”
Wanda sat up straighter, her voice gentler but still firm. “You don’t know that. You’re assuming, just like Y/N assumed with Bucky for years. Maybe it’s not the same, Nat, but… if you’re not even willing to try, how will you ever know?”
Natasha scoffed, clearly uncomfortable, her fingers tapping nervously against the counter. “It’s not about trying, okay? Steve’s not… he’s still hung up on her. Everyone and there pet knows that. I’m not going to be someone’s second choice.”
Sam, who had been quiet through most of the exchange, let out a low whistle. “Yikes, this got real heavy, real fast.”
Natasha shot him a look, but Sam raised his brownie defensively. “Hey, I’m just saying. All this angst? It’s like being back in college.”
Wanda couldn’t help but laugh softly, the tension breaking slightly. Natasha’s lips twitched, but her frustration still simmered beneath the surface.
Wanda placed a comforting hand on Natasha’s arm. “You have every right to feel the way you do. But maybe this is a chance to finally have that conversation with him. No more guessing, no more waiting.”
Natasha’s lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes glistening slightly. “Yeah, because those conversations always go so well,” she muttered bitterly.
Sam reached out, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “Nat, you’re one of the strongest people I know. If anyone can handle this, it’s you.”
She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Thanks, Dad.”
Wanda smiled softly, her voice teasing. “Hey, he’s just trying to get all his kids on good terms before he leaves.”
That finally earned a small, reluctant smile from Natasha. She looked at Sam, her anger softening. “I’ll figure it out. But if this goes sideways, you’re explaining to Steve why I threw his ass out a window.”
Sam grinned. “Deal.”
Before anyone could say more, the sound of a key turning in the lock echoed through the apartment. The door opened, and Steve walked in, looking tired but still managing to offer a small smile. “Hey.”
Sam perked up immediately, pushing off the counter. “Perfect timing Stevie. Brownie or beer?” He held up both as an offering.
Steve chuckled lightly, hanging his jacket by the door. “Why not both?” he replied, running a hand through his hair before stepping into the kitchen. “What’s going on in here?”
The three of them exchanged a quick glance before Wanda, ever the smooth one, piped up. “Oh, you know. Just solving the world’s problems over alcohol and baked goods.”
Steve’s brow furrowed slightly as he looked at Natasha, who quickly busied herself with clearing a nonexistent mess on the counter. “You okay?” he asked her directly, his tone quiet and concerned.
Natasha didn’t meet his eyes, her voice brisk. “Fine. Just tired.”
Steve didn’t push, nodding slowly before reaching for the beer Sam had handed him. “Well, I’m gonna chug this beer and devour some brownies, long day.”
As he moved toward the living room, Wanda watched him go, then turned to Natasha. “You’re gonna have to talk to him eventually, you know.”
Natasha shot Wanda a warning look, but her shoulders sagged slightly as she leaned against the counter. “I know,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
Sam, finishing his brownie, clapped his hands together. “Alright, that’s my cue. I’ll let you ladies work out all the feelings. Steve and I are gonna dive into this six-pack.” He winked and walked toward the living room, leaving Natasha and Wanda in a lingering silence.
Natasha finally sat down across from Wanda, swirling her glass of wine but not drinking. “I don’t know if I can, Wanda. Talk to him, I mean.”
Wanda tilted her head, her voice soft. “Why not?”
Natasha let out a bitter laugh. “Because I’ve been standing on the sidelines for years. Watching him pine for her, knowing I’d never measure up. How do you even start a conversation after that?”
Wanda reached across the table, her fingers brushing Natasha’s. “You start by being honest. No more sidelines, Nat. You deserve to be happy too.”
Natasha’s eyes shone with unshed tears, but she quickly blinked them away. “Easier said than done.”
Wanda smiled gently. “Yeah, but the best things usually are.”
As they finished dessert, the conversation shifted back to lighter topics. Sam stood to start clearing plates, and Natasha leaned back in her chair, glancing over at Steve. “Hey, you mind stepping out to the balcony with me for a second?”
Steve raised an eyebrow but nodded, grabbing his beer before following her outside.
The cool night air was a welcome contrast to the warmth inside. The city lights twinkled in the distance, casting a soft glow over the balcony. Natasha leaned against the railing, her arms crossed as she stared out at the skyline.
Steve joined her, standing a few feet away. “What’s on your mind?”
Natasha hesitated, her fingers gripping the railing tightly. Finally, she sighed and turned to face him. “Sam told me you know.”
Steve’s brow furrowed. “About what?”
She rolled her eyes. “About me, how I feel about you.”
His throat bobbed as he swallowed, his expression softening. “So it’s true.”
“Yeah,” Natasha said, her voice quieter now. “It’s true.”
Steve stepped closer, resting his beer on the railing. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because it didn’t matter,” Natasha said, her tone a mix of frustration and resignation. “You were always looking at her. Always chasing after her. And I was… I don’t know. Just there.”
Steve’s jaw tightened, his gaze falling to the floor. “That’s not fair, Nat.”
“No,” she snapped, “what’s not fair is sitting on the sidelines, watching the person you love pine after someone else. Watching them hurt over and over, knowing there’s nothing you can do because they don’t see you that way.”
Steve’s eyes met hers, guilt flashing across his face. “I didn’t know.”
“Of course, you didn’t,” Natasha said bitterly. “Because you were too busy looking through me.”
Silence hung heavy between them, the weight of her words settling deep in his chest. He opened his mouth to speak, but Natasha held up a hand, stopping him.
“I’m not saying this to make you feel bad,” she said, her voice softer now. “I just… I needed to say it. For me.”
Steve nodded slowly, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, Nat. For not seeing you. For making you feel like you didn’t matter.”
She offered a small, bittersweet smile. “I know you didn’t mean to. But it doesn’t change how it felt.”
Steve reached out hesitantly, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You matter to me. You always have.”
Natasha shook her head, stepping back. “I can’t do this, Steve. Not right now. You need to figure out what you want—who you are—before you even think about coming back to me.”
Her words hung in the air, final and unwavering. Steve nodded, his heart heavy with regret. “I understand.”
“Good,” Natasha said, her voice steady. “Because I’m not going to wait around forever.”
With that, she turned and walked back inside, leaving Steve alone on the balcony, the weight of her words settling deep in his chest. He stared out at the city, his mind racing with everything he’d lost and everything he might never have.
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The cabin glowed warmly under the soft flicker of candlelight and the crackling fire. The bottle of wine between you and Bucky was nearly empty, the two of you leaning comfortably against the couch on the plush rug. You took a sip from your glass, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment, when Bucky suddenly set his glass down and leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.
Bucky pressed a kiss to your forehead. "Thank you," he whispered.
"For what?" you asked
"For loving me, for letting me love you."
You smiled, nuzzling closer to him. "There's nothing and no one i'd rather have than you, Buck."
“I need to ask you something,” he said, his voice steady but tinged with something you couldn’t quite place.
You tilted your head, smiling softly at him. “Okay. What’s on your mind?”
He hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “It’s about what you told me… about Steve. What he said to you. That you shouldn’t be with me, that you should be with him.”
You exhaled slowly, setting your own glass down. “Bucky…”
“It’s been bugging me,” he admitted, his eyes meeting yours, vulnerable and searching. “I mean, do you—do you think he really meant that? Or was he just… hurting?”
You reached out and took his hand in yours, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles. “Bucky, I think Steve was hurting. A lot. But there’s no way he really meant it. And even if he did… it wouldn’t matter. You’ve been my person since we were kids.”
His lips twitched into a small smile. “Really?”
You nodded, your voice softening. “Do you remember the first time you tried to push me on the swing? You said, ‘Sit here. I got you.’ Then you fell on your ass and scraped your knee.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “I wasn’t exactly smooth, was I?”
“No,” you teased, leaning closer. “But you’ve always been there for me, Buck. Always. I’ve never had a single doubt about that.”
Bucky’s shoulders relaxed, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. “Thank you. I just… I needed to hear it. With everything that’s been happening—with Steve, and now with Natasha.”
You hesitated for a moment before nodding. “What do you think is going to happen with them?”
Bucky sighed, leaning back against the couch and pulling you closer so you were tucked under his arm. “I don’t know. Natasha’s tough as nails, but Steve? He’s in his head a lot. They both deserve to be happy, though. Hopefully, they figure it out… together.”
“I hope so too,” you murmured, resting your head on his shoulder. “They both deserve a happy ending.”
The conversation lulled for a moment, the weight of the topic settling between you. Then you shifted, sitting up and looking at him. “Speaking of happy endings… Sam told me.”
Bucky blinked. “Told you what?”
“About his promotion, the big move.” You studied his face, waiting for his reaction.
Bucky let out a sigh, his thumb brushing against your hand. “I wanted to tell you, but he asked me not to. I’m sorry—”
“Absolutely not,” you cut him off, shaking your head. “You don’t get to apologize for that. Sam trusted you with something big. I could never be mad at you for keeping that promise.”
His shoulders relaxed slightly. “It’s gonna be weird, though. Him being halfway across the country.”
“Yeah,” you admitted, your voice quieter. “It’s going to be weird for all of us.”
Bucky shifted, his hand gently cupping your cheek and turning you to face him. “We’ll figure it out. Just like we always do.”
You smiled faintly, leaning into his touch. “You and me, right?”
“Always,” he said softly.
You let the moment linger before a thought struck you. “So… what’s our next step?”
Bucky frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”
“Well,” you said, gesturing vaguely, “we’re together, but we’re still living as roommates. Two separate bedrooms, two lives in one space. What do we want to do about that?”
Bucky tilted his head, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “What do you want, doll?”
You hesitated, your cheeks warming under the soft glow of the bedside lamp. “I’d love to get a house someday,” you murmured, your voice carrying a mix of hope and uncertainty. “Something with a backyard. Maybe even some space for… you know.”
Bucky’s lips quirked into a teasing smile, his blue eyes sparkling. “Kids?” he asked, his tone light but his gaze searching yours.
“Maybe,” you said softly, feeling your cheeks grow warmer. “What about you? Do you… want that?”
He didn’t answer right away, but the way his expression softened made your heart skip a beat. Slowly, he leaned forward, resting his forehead gently against yours. The weight of his next words felt like a vow. “A house, a backyard, a family. With you?” His voice dropped to a whisper, thick with emotion. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
Your chest tightened, the sheer sincerity in his tone leaving you breathless. But then, his lips twitched into a grin as he added, “But… in New York?”
You couldn’t help but laugh, your fingers brushing against his scruffy jaw. “Maybe… Boston?” you offered, the word feeling both foreign and perfect on your tongue.
He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his grin widening into something radiant. “I don’t care where we are, as long as I’m with you,” he said earnestly. Then, his tone shifted, a playful but serious edge creeping in. “But you know, we don’t have to wait.”
Your brows furrowed slightly, tilting your head in question. “What do you mean?”
Bucky’s hands slid to your waist, his thumbs rubbing slow circles against your sides as he leaned closer, his voice low and certain. “I mean, I don’t want to wait to start my life with you—our life. I think we’ve waited long enough. If we both want this, why not now? Time’s never on anyone’s side, and I don’t want to waste another second without having all of this with you.”
Your breath hitched at the raw truth in his words, your heart thudding wildly in your chest. “You really mean that?” you asked, your voice a shaky whisper.
He smiled, his lips brushing softly against yours before he pulled back just enough to answer. “I do. I just want to live my life with you already. So…” His eyes searched yours, his voice dropping to something intimate and vulnerable. “Boston?”
You felt the word settle deep inside you, grounding and exhilarating all at once. “Boston,” you whispered back, nodding as your lips curved into a smile.
Bucky’s grin returned, wide and boyish, and before you could say another word, he cupped your face and kissed you, long and sweet, as if sealing a promise. When he pulled back, his eyes shone with happiness. “You have no idea how good it feels to hear you say that.”
You laughed softly, running your fingers through his hair. “I think I have some idea.”
He pressed another kiss to your lips, this one lingering and slow. “Boston,” he murmured again, as if savoring the sound of it. “It’s going to be amazing, doll. Us, a house, a backyard…” His grin turned mischievous. “Maybe even a dog before the kids, huh?”
You giggled, your heart feeling impossibly full. “One step at a time, Barnes.”
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beuxwhoyouare · 23 hours ago
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Ready to Go
I always thought I would die young. I just don’t forsee a long life ahead for me. It’s not like sad or anything I just think I’ve done all I wanted to. There’s never been like a dream job or goal I’ve ever foresaw in my future. It’s not depression or anything, if anything I think more people should be honest with themselves about being useless and just tapping out of a long life of nothingness.
See. You’ve read this long and didn’t even notice I haven’t mentioned my name. That’s because like my life, my name is equally inconsequential.
I was pondering about ways to easily tap out of life while I sat at the bus stop waiting. Eventually I got on the bus at my usual stop to take me to my usual destination when an older white man slowly waved his hand in front of my wandering gaze.
“What’s out there?” he feebly asked in a weak voice.
I’ve never been asked something on my route before. I kinda just zone out into my own mind like this and-
“Hey kid. You keep zoning out are you okay?” he interrupted my internal thought.
It’s like he knew I was talking to myself but how?
“I’m just in my own head. Sorry did you want the window seat?” I finally replied audibly.
“No. Just making sure you’re okay. Was worried you were one of those druggies or something. Whole life ahead of you and you youngins just throw it all away.”
What a presumptive thought. He really believes that young people can’t have a complex and existential inner dialogue. I think older people don’t give us enough credit. I’m complex, I think.
*hehe*
What’s he laughing at. Wait maybe he is listening to my inner dialogue? Let’s see. Lemme think of something and see how he responds. I don’t want to die, I just want to peacefully tap out of the game of existence.
Damn nothing? He isn’t going to say anything? I’m losing my mind.
“Where do you want to go in life kid?”
HE HEARD ME I KNEW IT!
“I mean let’s say you manifested it enough. Maybe I’m here to help you move on. The worst thing you can do is live a life unfulfilled. It seems like that’s how you’re living.”
“You can’t be serious…What can you do?”
“It’s not really me, more like a pact to the deities that rule existence. It’s the law of the land. Everything in this world is all about balance. Even our lives, if one aspect is out of balance it could throw the whole world out of whack.”
“So what’s out of balance? Just because I’m tired of being aimless in life? It’s not like I’m the only aimless one right?”
“Maybe you’re not the only one, but you’re the only aimless one put in my life. I have so much I wanted to do but spent too much time wasted. I wanted kids, I wanted love, I wanted it all but got sick and spent years withering away in a hospital bed.”
….why is he telling me all this? What can I do about the law of the land? If I could help him I would but he’s talking about myths and hocus pocus.
The bus made an abrupt stop next to a big park near a historical reserve in town. The old man grabbed my arm and dragged me with him off the bus, across the street to the park.
“Dude your boney arm is hurting me. I’ll follow you just let me go”
“We’re here anyway. I can feel one of the deity’s presence around us. All you have to do is say your true hearts desire out loud for it to become true. You can’t move on and I can get a chance to fix my life’s shortcomings.”
My true hearts desire? Doesn’t he get it my problem is I don’t have a desire. There’s nothing fueling me.
“That! Say that out loud.”
“I KNEW YOU COULD HEAR ME! But how?”
“Your inner dialogue was calling to me like a siren. I’m telling you I was meant to hear it. To run into you! This moment was meant to happen.”
Honestly resisting the occult is too much work anyway. I don’t know why I’m even poking and prodding into his story. What is it going to do for me in the end? He’s offering me a way out.
“I don’t have desire. I don’t have a goal. I’m not sad, I’ve lived an okay life but I’m done.”
“I want a real chance to live life. I payed my dues. Please all I ask for is a real chance.”
If felt like all the sounds of nature stopped. The sun suddenly disappeared and it felt like a spotlight appeared above us. All I could see was the old man when he disappeared in front of me. It all disappeared in front of me. Then silence. Well everything was silent from then on. My request to tap out was granted.
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“Keven. I like that name, I definitely look like a Keven now. This is a good place to start I think?”
I feel bad that a young person could fall out of love with existing. There’s so much young people have to live for and he just wanted to die? I’ll live the best live for the both of us.
I’m quite the looker now too so that should probably help on the having kids and starting a family front. Although he’s a little short for my liking. You know what no I’m going to be grateful for this new life I’ve been given. There’s still some memories in my head that belong to him. I think he might be gay….well I never got to explore those things in my time but it doesn’t help the kids dream.
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Whatever I think starting today I’m going to be Bi. I’m gonna search through these memories and continue working out. Seems like it has a positive impact on people’s outlook and morale. Maybe that’s where the kid went wrong. He didn’t seek ways to be happy. I’m choosing happiness and choosing to be fulfilled.
Let’s start by jerking this thick beer can growing under my shorts though…and maybe seeing if this hot couple in the gym might want a newly confident Latino twunk third.
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imnotditzy · 2 days ago
Text
Captain Marvel doesn’t know what a normal death is
(TW: mentions of death, brief mentions of murder gang violence)
No but really if you ask a street rat, literal living lighting, a bunch of ancient immortal people and a really wise king from a bajillion years ago, why would a reasonable answer be an option?
Like Billy thinks that if you’re 60 one of your feet are in the grave. Why? Because that was the life expectancy in the 50s. He's also homeless so he’s already more exposed to crime anyway, I wouldn’t doubt he thinks death by “minding someone else’s business” is common enough to be recorded as such in its own category and not murder. Also, he literally fights supervillains who try to kill him everyday? His view is skewed so much, that the damage might be irreversible. 😭
Moving on, Marvel is literally sentient magic. They can’t die, and if they can it’s not a thing that’s very easy to come by. The amount of work it takes to even do the equivalent of a paper cut is excessive, the concept of them dying would take a lot to set in. And they are a lost cause when it comes to knowing what a normal death is. The only “normal” deaths they’ve really paid attention to are the deaths of the Champions…and none of them had anything close to a normal death. (One of them literally gets hacked in two 💀)
The acronym; do I even have to explain? All of them besides Solomon, Heracles and Achilles literally haven’t died. And literally no hero in Greek mythology dies normally. Solomon is the only one who’s died of natural and normal causes, but he was alive in the BCE. That is a long time ago.
Now, Combine all of them together and what do you get? Captain Marvel: someone who does not have a correct interpretation of typical death!
This would probably concern others around them. Especially the JL, because I feel like Captain would mention this randomly.
(Green Lantern [Hal] and Captain Marvel were sent to investigate a crime scene together and they stumble upon the body.)
Captain Marvel: Aw…seems like their time came. (Captain’s got a sympathetic but large smile.)
Green Lantern (looking down at the stabbed body): Um, Cap?
Captain: It’s a shame. But I guess nothing could be done…
Lantern: Captain, they were stabbed???
Captain: Oh, I know. Happens to the best of people, right?
Lantern: Uh —No? Captain this is…worrying??
Captain: They’re in a better place now. Maybe.. ☺️
(They’re now back at the watchtower for a debrief, but it somehow turned into Batman questioning Captain Marvel.)
Batman: Captain can you explain why the body was not concerning to you?
(Batman’s staring at Captain intensely.)
Captain (confused smiling): …because there was nothing to worry about?
Batman (raising an eyebrow): Why?
Captain (hesitant): Because there’s probably not a serial killer or whatever running around? They killed an insider, it was gang violence.
Batman: How were you sure?
(Captain looks up to the side like their remembering before shrugging)
Captain: …Oh, I’ve seen similar bodies like that before.
(This occurrence is reason #5738 on why Captain Marvel cannot interact with civilians. But in Captain’s defense, how was Billy supposed to know lifespans updated?)
Captain Marvel (pointing at an “old” lady): Oh, she’s 62?
Citizen: Yeah?
Captain (sympathetic): Oh. It’s good she’s still on her feet though.
Citizen: What?
Captain: She’s thriving for her age, right?
Citizen: C—Captain Marvel, she’s 60 not 99. She just retired.
Captain (confused): Really? Why would they have her working so long if she’s nearing the end? (The lady turns around with this expression on her face: 😟)
Citizen: Because she wanted to?? Captain are you ageist?
Captain (never heard that word a day in his life): Uh, I don’t think so? What does that even mean??
(The media later somehow gets ahold of the footage and it becomes such a scandal it reaches the JL; Captain Marvel is then forced to have a public statement. At the giant press conference, Mary and Freddy are there standing next to him and laughing.)
Captain Marvel (whispering): Shut up, it’s not like you thought any different.
Miss Marvel (also whispering): Yeah but we’re not stupid enough to say it to their face, Captain.
Captain Marvel (still whispering): It’s not like you guys would have any less scandals than I do if you were in the media as much as I am.
Reporter (impatiently): Ahem. Marvels?
(Both siblings look like deer in headlights while Freddy laughs at them. They both apologize in unison.)
(Captain then clears their throat, they look like they’re dreading this.)
Captain Marvel: I am terribly sorry for what I said about [62yo citizen]. I hadn’t intended to be rude, but I seemed as such because I had a gap in my…
Solomon (telling him what to say): …Knowledge. I was under the assumption that the average lifespan wasn’t much longer than a person’s 60s…
Captain (repeating what Solomon’s saying): I now know that, while once true, that information is outdated.
(Billy went on for three more minutes, only stopping because the DTC got too bored and people were starting to give him funny looks.)
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peachhcs · 2 days ago
Text
friendsgiving in michigan
hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)
because thanksgiving falls so late this year, samy manages to arrange a friendsgiving weekend with everyone up at the lake house and pulls off a guest surprise in the process
2.4k words
a thanksgiving special from samy & the crew + emma cooper mention from my other au (that i still haven’t worked on). wanted to put together something fun for thanksgiving so enjoy and happy turkey day!! 🦃
au masterlist
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SAMY HUGHES
FRIENDSGIVING WEEKEND AT THE LAKE HOUSE?
WHO'S FREE? THINKING 24th-27th?
RYAN LEONARD
HELL YEAH I'M IN
GABE PERREAULT
ME 2
ARAM MINNETIAN
ME 3
DREW FORTESCUE
ME 4!
WILL VOTE
u think we can bring the hagens, stiga, and buium along too?
SAMY HUGHES
yes!!! bring them all we'll have a full house this year i'm so excited!!
julianne, emma, & tell zeev's gf they're all welcome too
hannah's coming up with me
JACOB FOWLER
can't wait to be back in mich for a few days
RYAN LEONARD
gonna be the best reunion can't wait
can smitty come by chance?
WILL SMITH
shit i have a game the 25th and 27th 😔
GABE PERREAULT
fuckkkkk dude
ARAM MINNETIAN
smitty will be missed 😔😔
WILL SMITH
wish i could be there i'll be thinking of u guys ❤️
the entire house was buzzing with people everywhere either catching up with one another, cooking, or playing video games. samy was busy in the kitchen making mac and cheese while ryan and gabe attempted to help with the turkey after being put to work by samy (even though they asked if they could help her with anything).
sometimes others would pop in to see how it was going or steal some of the food knowing they couldn't eat it yet, especially jacob and drew. those two were notorious for getting a dip of something and then hurrying back out of the kitchen before samy or hannah yelled at them.
the house was filled with a lot of warmth which the youngest hughes loved. people were only in the house over the summer, so being able to fill it with people during the winter really made the girl happy, especially since she hadn't seen the boys since summer ended anyway.
the only thing that was missing was will and what no one but samy knew was that he was on a flight over right after his game to surprise everyone. she kept checking her phone to know when he was almost there so she could go out and get him. the couple planned it a few days after samy asked everyone if they were free for friendsgiving and who didn't love surprises?
"this is actually so gross," gabe complained while buttering and seasoning up the inside of the turkey. his hands were deep under the skin slowly rolling the flavoring into the meat. ryan snickered.
"sucks you got stuck with that job," the brunette taunted.
"shut up, dude," gabe rolled his eyes and samy laughed to herself at their minor bickering. her phone buzzed against the counter and her eyes flew to the screen, smiling when she saw will's notification.
"hey, gabe, you mind taking over this cutting for a second?" the girl held the knife out to the boy and he sent her a relieved look.
"yes, thank god. i don't wanna do this anymore," he scrubbed his hands off and eagerly took the knife from her to finish cutting up her potatoes.
samy swiped her phone from the counter to read her boyfriend's message.
WILL SMITH five minutes away
the brunette grinned to herself. she slipped out of the kitchen and out the back door where no one would see her leave or catch sight of will coming in when he got there. a bubble of excitement grew in her stomach knowing she couldn't wait to see everyone's reaction.
will's uber rolled down the drive and the girl's grin got even wider as she waited in anticipation on the porch. the blonde climbed out, waving to her as he grabbed his backpack and hurried up the wooden porch.
"hey pretty," he smushed her into a hug as she breathed him in and took her moment with him before everyone else took his attention inside.
"it's good to see you. everyone's inside. they're gonna be really excited to see you," she nodded towards the door. will smiled, leaning down to place a kiss to her lips, also wanting his moment with his girl before the guys stole him away.
"i'm kind of nervous, is that weird?" the blonde chuckled to himself as his gaze drifted towards the house again.
"no, but don't be. they're gonna be really excited," samy rubbed his arm and then waited for will's cue that he was ready to go inside. he nodded and she slowly pushed the door back open where everyone's voices filled their ears again.
samy led her boyfriend back towards the living room where mostly everyone was. they were scattered across the couches, chairs, and floor taking turns playing mario kart and too invested to notice the boy's presence until will knocked on the entryway.
aram's head snapped that way first. his eyes widened in surprise, shoving everyone out of the way as he jumped up and bounded his way to the blonde.
"holy shit! smitty!" aram exclaimed and basically tackled the boy into a hug. his excitement caught everyone else's attention and a whole new eruption of commotion broke out.
"yoo! what are you doing here?!" ryan and gabe came in to see what was going on, eyes wide when they saw their old friend standing before them.
samy stepped back, letting the boys have their moment together. her heart warmed seeing them all look so happy and jump around like little kids on christmas morning.
soon they were chanting "smitty, smitty, smitty" and the girls laughed at their behavior. hannah nudged her friend's arm, "now how'd you pull this off?"
"we pulled a few strings to get him out here for a day before his game on wednesday," the brunette explained with a little smile, still watching the boys take turns hugging will.
she sometimes forgot how much they all missed him too even if they didn't explicitly say it all the time. it really showed watching them all embrace will and express how excited they were to see him and spend time with him even if it was just for tonight and tomorrow before he had to get back on a plane for his next game.
after another thirty minutes, everyone settled down again. samy was finishing up a few last minute things in the kitchen while everyone else helped set up the table and find extra chairs from around the house so everyone had a seat. will stuck his head in for a moment.
"hey," he caught her attention.
"hey, what's up?" the girl wondered.
"need any help?"
"maybe just arranging all the food so everyone can just come in and grab what they want for their plates," samy explained how she wanted the food on the counters, so will quickly jumped in to do it for her.
"thank you for this. it's really great getting to see everyone," the blonde smiled softly.
"of course. i'm glad you were able to make it out," she reached up to peck his lips. will leaned in more, wanting a better kiss when she pulled back. samy giggled and obliged his wishes by leaning across the counter to kiss him better.
"hey lovebirds, the crew is getting hungry," hannah poked her head into the kitchen which broke the couple apart in a small blush.
"tell them to come in with their plates. it's all ready," the soccer player giggled.
her and will let everyone go first down the line, the boys filling their plates high. it was a good thing she made a lot of food knowing how much hockey players ate. she came back into the dining room last taking a seat right by will near the end. ryan tapped his fork against the glass before everyone started eating to get their attention.
"i just wanna say how thankful i am for all of you and getting to spend this holiday all together for the first time in two years. a big thanks to samy and her brothers for letting us stay for a few days and another really big thanks to samy for getting will here with us," the taller brunette looked at the girl who flushed under all the attention. she felt will squeeze her leg and kiss her cheek.
"also a big thank you for making most of this food. it looks amazing," gabe added and everyone agreed.
"i'm just glad we were able to make this happen," samy grinned.
"alright, let's eat!" ryan exclaimed. everyone clapped and then started digging in, the conversations flowing across the room.
the boston boys took turns sharing stories from the semester so far and filling will in on everything he's missed. hannah and samy took turns talking about what's been going on at michigan and the successful season the women's soccer team has had. julianne chirped in with things from providence and zeev and his girlfriend filled everyone in about denver and arizona. it was nostalgic hearing about the different lives everyone had been living since being together in michigan.
it didn't even feel like two years ago that the boys were playing in the usntdp and samy was graduating high school, but it was and that thought was a little scary with how much time has passed.
halfway through dinner, julianne brought out the wine. it was popped open and the bottle was a quarter of the way empty by the time everyone got a glass.
"emma and olivia might be a little new to this, but samy and will would not admit their feelings until literally we left for college," aram said with a low chuckle. the girl's face flushed while will rolled his eyes a bit. his arm was draped across the back of samy's chair, his fingers rubbing little shapes into her shoulder.
"i can imagine," emma giggled.
"they were insufferable at dev program. so, so oblivious," drew shook his head.
"well, i wanna know how gabe and emma got together," hannah chirped up. the other couple exchanged a glance, smiling at one another and everyone shared knowing smiles.
"we took french together and i sucked at econ, so she helped tutor me," the darker-haired boy explained with a bit of a blush.
"he would not tell us he was seeing her, so we had to literally find out ourselves," ryan rolled his eyes a bit.
"you guys were just being nosy," gabe grumbled making the boys chuckle.
"or you were just being secretive. either or," jacob shrugged.
"whatever. let's talk about something else," gabe shifted the conversation away from him and emma who just giggled at the teasing.
they all talked for a bit longer before helping with the dishes and getting the food put away. a lot more thanks were thrown around to everyone and then it was just samy and will left in the kitchen together after she shooed the others out promising they did enough and didn't need to keep helping with clean up.
the couple worked in comfortable silence with will rinsing the dishes and samy putting them into the dishwasher. "thanks again for this. tell jack and quinn thanks too," the blonde hummed.
"i will. they gave me very strict instructions about not destroying the house," she giggled.
"just watch minnetian and leonard. when they get beer in their systems they go kind of crazy," will laughed too and both of their eyes flicked to the living room where the group retreated to.
"i hope we can make this happen again during winter break too. hopefully this won't be the last time i'll see everyone until summer," the blonde's lips turned into a small frown.
"i'm sure we can make something happen, don't worry. maybe we'll even plan a trip out to san jose to see you play at a game. at least leno, gp, and i will," samy assured. her boyfriend's lips flipped back into a smile at her words.
"i love you," he paused their movements for another kiss which she reciprocated. they connected their lips, tasting the remnants of the wine on one another's lips.
"will get in here! teddy's about to take your nhl high score!" ryan yelled from the living room, breaking the two apart. the blonde sighed a little, the interruptions reminding him of summer and never getting a second alone.
"be right there!" he called back.
he helped samy finish the dishes before pulling her into the living room with him. will took the empty chair and then patted his legs as samy's indication to sit in his lap. she flushed a bit before cuddling into the blonde's side and fitting into the chair with him.
teddy and drew were playing quinn and jack's nhl video game where will had the highest score—something he worked hard to build up over the years. the others giggled, a bit wine drunk watching the two boys battle it out on the screen together.
"i win! i win!" teddy jumped up and reached for the high fives.
"damn. who's next then?" drew wondered and will immediately raised his hand.
"i wanna keep my record," the boy handed him the controller where will reached his arm around samy's back to hold it with both hands. she giggled, finding a comfortable spot on the boy's chest to watch the tv.
gabe took the other controller and a few of the guys oohed seeing the two best friends matchup against one another. they spent the rest of the night switching between mario cart and the other sports games samy's brothers had. it wasn't until at least 3:30 in the morning when everyone went to sleep. they all wanted to spend as much time as they could together, especially with will since he was leaving the next day.
"hey samy?" gabe and ryan stuck their heads into the kitchen one last time before going to bed where the girl started the dishwasher.
"yeah?" she wondered.
"thank you for doing this and thank you for getting will here. best friendsgiving yet," ryan grinned making the girl flush.
"of course, guys. it was really good seeing everyone together," she brought them in for a quick hug. "now get some sleep. it's late," she pushed them back to the spare room, careful not to step on the others asleep throughout the house.
when she finally got up to her room, will was already fast asleep in her bed. she smiled at his sleeping figure, shutting the lights off and climbing in beside him.
even though he was asleep, he felt her presence and turned so he could wrap his arms around her frame in a strong hold. the youngest hughes cuddled herself into will's side, kissing his cheek and falling into a deep sleep.
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