#I keep trying not to think about it while I’m at work

[vicariousresearcher]

Neighbour!141 and how they get your attention.

Neighbour!Price who is constantly offering you help. Sees some furniture boxes at your door and is offering to put it together for you. No? Well surely you need some tools at least, make it all easier. No no he doesn’t mind truly. He doesn’t want you trying to fix everything up with just an allen key now does he?

Shovels your side walk, up to your door even. When you come to him the next day all apologetic and saying that you were just about to do it, seriously he didn’t need to. He just brushes you off saying that ‘birds don’t need to be out doin that.' It‘s okay, he was doing his anyway. 

Listening when you complain about your shitty landlord who has yet to do anything about your faulty water heater. You’re in those shorts he’s only seen through the window, arms crossed and rambling as he thumbs at the valves. 

“It’s a no go bird. You gotta buy a whole new heating element and get it put in dere. If you’re needin to, you can shower at my place till this gets figure’d out ya?”

Neighbour!Kyle who honestly you see more outside of your neighbourhood than in it. You have no clue how but you two always end up in the same place at the same time. 

Grocery shopping? Oh he's here too, it has the best deals on produce! Excursion? Oh he just wanted to see the new exhibit at the aquarium just like you, great minds think alike. Eating something in your favourite cafe during your lunch break? He slides in the seat across from you with a playful smile saying ‘how its nice to see you here neighbour’. 

You don’t even know he slipped a tracker in your purse during one of these bump ins.

That's how it starts. A friendship with a man you apparently have so much in common with. You have to with how much you see him at your favourite places. Even that niche little diner that you love as soon as you mention it he’s finishing off its name and talking about how their sweets are so good.

“What do you mean you haven’t had any? Want me to grab you some next time I go-actually no how about we just go together. I need to see what else you’ve been depriving yourself of. Come on, we’ll go in the evening when it’s nice and quiet so it’ll just be us.”

Neighbour!Johnny who sees the sweet thing living next door and knows he needs to get his hands on you. But he’s smarter than those pretty eyes and dumb grin would let you think. He wants you to come to him. He just needs to prove what a prize he is first. 

So he finds every chance possible to workout outside. 

Deliberately does his stretches for his morning run where you’ll be able to see while you make your coffee for the morning. Absolutely chuffed when he makes eye contact with you while he’s mid shirt pull. The way you go bug eyed when caught ogling has him ready wanting to ask if you liked the show.

Now, god forbid you have a dog. He’s making friends through the fence, coming up to your door offering to take the sweet thing on a walk if you want. Truly he would love to have a running buddy please let him take your pupper out. It becomes normal enough that you don’t even bat an eye when he’s offering to take your baby out when you’re not home. 

“I don’t mind taking my boy out once in a while. His mama’s busy but I’m not. Where’d you say you keep your outside key?”

Neighbour!Simon who quickly learns that he can’t offer to help you round because it comes off as….creepy. He’s the one you think is going to tag you with a tracker or follow you to work. The one that has you holding your keys between your fingers when pulling in at night.

So he takes a different approach. Needy, confused, and helpless. A military man entirely unacquainted with domestic duties.

He’s pathetic in a stuck racoon kind of way. You know you shouldn’t trust him but the way you’ve heard his smoke alarm go off 3 times in the time you’ve been here has you messaging if he wants some of your supper since you made too much. You catch yourself adding far more while cooking just so you have something to drop off to his doorstep. 

You don’t even know how it happened but now you’re in his kitchen teaching him how to make some easy meals with your chicken marinade recipes. Something he won’t burn or over salt. He’s got you rambling away, so blissfully unaware. Safe in his home, so trusting of him now.. He’s made so much improvements with you, no more scurrying away the minute he’s a couple feet away. 

“‘m sorry for needin so much from ya. If there's anything I can do just message me ya? Don’t matter what time, I’ll come. Anything you need.”

[goldfades]

okay but a paige x highschool sweetheart headcannons…….🤫

you’ve known paige since middle school, back when she had braces and that oversized basketball hoodie she wore like a uniform. you weren’t best friends right away, though

she was the loud one, all confidence and easy laughter, and you were… not. but eighth grade science class changed that—she offered you half of her sandwich during a field trip, and suddenly, she was sitting next to you every day

and by the time high school started, paige was already a star

everyone knew her name, not just because she was the point guard who could do things no one else could, but because she had that kind of energy that pulled people in

and yet, her favorite place to be was still with you—sitting on your bedroom floor, eating pizza, and letting you quiz her on geometry proofs. she claimed you were her good luck charm whenever she passed a test

paige didn’t officially ask you out until sophomore year. she said she’d been working up the courage for months—you laughed because, honestly, what did paige bueckers have to be nervous about?

but she was fidgeting with the drawstring of her hoodie, looking at you like she’d miss her next shot if you said no. of course, you didn’t

being with paige meant learning to share her with the world. you went to all her games, cheered louder than anyone else, and learned to love the way she’d scan the crowd for you after every buzzer, that grin of hers lighting up the whole gym when she found you

she’d sneak you into post-game interviews sometimes, just so she could wink at you while pretending to answer a serious question

she loved basketball, sure, but she loved you, too—in a way that made it clear you weren’t just her high school sweetheart

you were her person, the one she wanted next to her, whether she was on the court or sitting on the roof of your car, counting stars

and when senior year rolled around—the stakes felt higher, both on and off the court. she was being courted by every top college program in the country, and you—you were figuring out what life after high school might look like for the two of you

late-night talks turned into plans scrawled in notebooks, filled with possibilities of visits, long-distance calls, and maybe even the same college, if the stars aligned just right

when the acceptance letters came in, it felt like fate. uconn for both of you!

paige couldn’t stop smiling for days, talking about how you’d get to keep cheering her on, just in a bigger arena. but the transition to college wasn’t as seamless as either of you had hoped

paige was the star recruit—the freshman everyone had their eyes on. she was juggling practice, games, media appearances, and the pressure of being "the next big thing"

meanwhile, you were trying to find your footing in a new environment, feeling a little like you were standing in her shadow for the first time

it wasn’t anyone’s fault, but there were nights when it felt like the distance between you wasn’t just physical. you missed the simplicity of high school, the way things felt so easy back then

paige tried—she really did—to balance it all, but sometimes it felt like basketball demanded every piece of her

by sophomore year, the fights started. little things at first—missed plans, forgotten texts. but they added up, like a pressure cooker ready to burst. there was one night, after a particularly tough loss, when everything came out

"i’m trying my best, okay?" she’d said, voice raw. "you think i don’t miss how things used to be? but this… this is my dream. and i don’t know how to do it all."

"and what about us?" you’d shot back, tears in your eyes. "am i supposed to just wait around while basketball gets all of you?"

it was the kind of fight that felt like a turning point—the kind where you either figure it out or fall apart. and somehow, through the tears and the yelling, you found a way to talk. really talk.

paige admitted she’d been scared of losing you, of letting you down. you told her how lonely you’d been, how hard it was to feel like you were coming second to everything else. by the time the sun started to rise, you’d fallen asleep on her dorm room floor, her arms wrapped tightly around you, like she was scared you’d disappear if she let go

things weren’t perfect after that but they were better. you both learned how to make time for each other, even when it felt like there wasn’t any to spare

paige started bringing you to practices sometimes, letting you sit courtside while she worked through drills. you found your own rhythm at school, joining clubs and making friends who reminded you that you were more than just "paige bueckers’ girlfriend."

by the end of sophomore year, you’d both grown in ways you didn’t expect. paige was still the same girl who gave you half her sandwich back in eighth grade, and you were still her good luck charm

but now, you were partners, too—figuring out how to build a life together, one game, one moment at a time

[tkwrites]

Soft Launch; Hard Launch - Quinn Hughes x ofc

gif from @kawhh

Title: Soft Launch; Hard Launch: A 500 Follower Celly

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts (ofc) 

Warnings: Though most of this is fluff, there is a really nasty comment left on a social media post and mentions of poor self body image.

Summary: 4 times Quinn soft launched his relationship with Sarah, and one time he did it for real.

Word Count: 2,900

Comments: The idea of writing a 4+1 fic for my 500 mark has been rolling around my head for a while, so when I hit 500 followers about a week ago, I thought I'd try my hand at it. Many thanks to @aloragrace and @captainlexaproluvr for looking over this piece and calming my fears about doing new things. I’ve never written in this format before, but I quite like the way this turned out.  I’d love to know what you think!

I'm just bowled over and so excited! Thank you all so much. Knowing people enjoy my writing has been so fulfilling to me. I’ve wanted to write since I was about thirteen, but never had the guts to publish anything for people other than my friends to read. Now that I have and know that people like it, it feels a bit like I’m giving my little inner awkward teenager the best gift she could ever ask for. Thank you for your encouragement, kindness, and support! I can’t tell you how much it means to me.  

If you did enjoy this Snapshot, please let me know by commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask. Your encouragement and comments truly inspire me to keep writing. 

Soft Launch; Hard Launch: A 500 Follower Celly

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot 

1.

The first time Quinn put Sarah on his social media was after they got home from the family reunion. The Monday after she left, he was looking back through his photos while he waited for her to get off work. He found one from their beach day he’d completely forgotten he’d taken. Sarah was kneeling over a tide pool with a few of his cousins, pointing to something in the water, while they looked into her face with rapt attention.

Even though her face was mostly hidden from view, she looked beautiful in that casual way he loved so much. Her hair was up in a bun, and she was wearing a pair of denim shorts along with her orange swim top.

Do you mind if I put this on my stories? he asked later that night, once she'd texted that she’d arrived home safely and would call as soon as she changed.

“I don’t mind,” she told him after they said their initial hellos, caught up on each other's day, and he asked again. “I’m a little surprised this is the first photo you want to go with,” she admitted. 

“Why?” 

“I don’t know. I thought maybe you’d want to go with something more…” she trailed off, unsure exactly how to phrase what she was thinking. She’d only glanced at it, but from what she remembered, the photo wasn’t anything special. It was from the tide pools, and though it fulfilled the mission of showing her without showing her whole face, she didn’t look excessively beautiful or anything. In fact, the first thing she’d zeroed in on were her stomach rolls. Echoes of girls calling her too fat to be with NHL superstar Quinn Hughes rang in her mind. 

“I like it,” he defended before she could find the right words or slide down the slippery slope of body image woes. “You’re doing what you love.” 

It melted something in her that he looked at that photo and saw her passion. “That’s really sweet, Quinn.” 

“So it’s okay?” 

How could she say no now? “Yeah. It’s okay.”  She reminded herself she wouldn’t see any of the things people were saying about her unless she sought them out, which she had no intention of doing.

He put it up with nothing more than an orange heart in the corner as soon as they hung up from the FaceTime call.

Less than a minute later, Eunice raced into Sarah's room. She was so overly excited, she ran into the door jam, bouncing off of it before regaining her balance. She thrust her phone into Sarah's face. “Quinn put you on his stories!” 

Glancing at the screen, Sarah smiled. “Yeah, he just asked me if he could put that photo up.”

“Oh my god. This is so dreamy,” she gushed, turning the phone back around to look at the picture again. “You look so pretty.” 

2.

The second soft launch was on his main feed at the end of the summer, though he still didn’t show her face.

It wasn’t until they got home from Hawaii and all shared their photos that Quinn realized just how many pictures his mom had taken. He was used to her snapping pictures of them - it was a very common occurrence to look around at any given moment, especially on vacation, to find her brandishing a camera to document everything she could.

He’d never appreciated it more until he was looking through the shared album and saw all the moments his mom caught. There were photos of him and his brothers and him and Sarah once she got there. There was even a video of his and Luke’s shock at their girlfriends’ arrival.  

His favorite picture she took was from the beach outside of their vacation rental. Anxious for a quiet moment together, Sarah pulled him outside to watch the sun set.

The rest of the family was inside, debating something about dinner. They had been on a kayak and hiking tour that day, and he was so tired, he was beyond caring. As long as some kind of food was provided, he’d be fine.  

His mom must have walked out onto the back porch to snap the photo. 

 The sun, sinking into the ocean in front of them, turned them into shadow as Sarah leaned her head on his shoulder. It was the kind of photo people put in vacation advertisements, and when he’d seen it, he knew it had to be included in his end of summer review.

He uploaded it with a carousel of six other photos before captioning the post, One for the books. 

After receiving sixty notifications in the first five minutes, most of them from people he didn’t know asking who the girl in the 5th photo was, he muted the app.

It wasn’t until he looked at the comments that evening and saw, I think this must be that fat bitch he was dating during the season. I was hoping they’d broken up since he didn’t stay in Vancouver this summer and she did, that he disabled comments all together.

He’d been so angry that someone who didn’t know either of them would say anything like that, he had drafted a reply before realizing he was about to engage in a reactionary argument with someone he didn't even know or have any emotional ties to. He wanted to correct them, but knew he should really get PR help to do that. 

When they talked about social media for the first time in their relationship, Sarah explained how the comments from these so-called fans made her feel. Even though she knew they didn’t know her as a person and didn’t have any place in their relationship or lives, it was difficult not to let them get to her. 

He knew the feeling well. He’d gone through the same thing when he accepted the captaincy. The pressure to perform had been so immense, it had turned him into a snappy, short-fused, irritable person until, at the advice of some other captains in the league, he started putting his phone down regularly. 

3. 

The third came when it was his turn to sit for a 32 Thoughts podcast episode with Elliott and Kyle, and they were shooting the breeze before the actual interview began. 

“We missed you at dinner,” Elliott said, referencing a banquet that the league had hosted the night before for all players and press on site for the whirlwind pre-season media tour.

Without really thinking about it, Quinn found himself explaining, “my girlfriend's family lives here, so Jack and I had dinner with them last night.”

“She's not here?” Elliott asked. 

“No, she has stuff going on back home so she couldn't be, but it was nice to see them.” Some players brought family to the media tour, but not many. It was a short stint, shorter than most road trips during the season, so most didn’t bother.

Their producer, Shanna, flashed a red light, letting them know it was time to start the formal interview. Kyle counted down, “three two and one,” before introducing Quinn and starting with the questions. 

At the end of the recording, both Elliott and Shanna asked if he wanted them to cut his talk about his girlfriend and her family from the episode. Usually, they left those anecdotal conversations in, especially on the youtube videos, but this one was a bit more nuanced. 

“I think it should be fine, but can I talk to her about it and get back to you?” 

“Of course,” Shanna said, smiling. “It’s not slated to go up for a few weeks, so just let us know by the 17th.”

When he'd asked Sarah about it that night after arriving home, she seemed unconcerned. 

“I think that's kind of up to you.” She knew from their FaceTime conversation the night before that Quinn, Jack and their agent had eaten at Rachel's house, so there was no risk of someone posting photos and making the connection they were with her family.  

“I mean, people have been speculating you have a girlfriend, right?” she asked. 

“Yeah.” It was more than speculation at this point - most people knew he had someone. They just didn’t know who she was. 

“And people who found my instagram already know I’m from Nevada, so I don’t really see what the worry is.” 

He’d expected her to be more worried about it, but now that she was responding to him with cool logic, he had to admit she had a point. 

The next day, he messaged Elliott along with his agent to let them know they could keep the anecdote in the recording. 

When it hit the airwaves, Sarah purposefully didn’t check any of the messages Eunice sent her for a few days. Eunice had taken it upon herself, and continued at Sarah’s request, to report big gossip to her so Sarah wasn’t tempted to go on the blogs or fan accounts. 

Most responses were sort of victorious bragging, posting about connections with Sarah’s instagram “about me” section where she talked about being from Nevada, feeling that this interview proved them right. 

4. 

The fourth time wasn’t planned. 

When Quinn got home from their first regular season road trip, the apartment was dark. It was past two in the morning, and Sarah had a therapy appointment at eight, so she hadn't waited up for him. 

In his trek through the apartment, he paused by the dining room table. Until Sarah moved in, walking into the apartment after a road trip was often the worst part of the whole thing. He was always glad to be back in his own bed, but nothing seemed to exasperate his singleness more than coming home. Not only was he going from being surrounded by the team to being totally alone, he was coming home to an empty house. The combination of the two felt stiflingly lonely.

The mess of textbooks, highlighters, and notebooks left out on the dining room table was such proof of someone else living in the house, it made his chest feel full. 

In a spur of the moment act, he snapped a picture of the dimly lit chaos and posted it to his Instagram stories. No caption, no explanation. Just the simple proof that he wasn't alone.  

“Why did you put a picture of my books on your instagram?” she asked the next day after getting home from her appointment. 

He shrugged, “I liked it.”

The season before, anytime she would study at his house, she would clean everything up, organizing it all back into her bag before going home or coming to bed. 

Now, her books often stayed out on the dining room table on weekends. He offered to convert one of the spare bedrooms into an office for her, or let her use the office he had a computer in now, but she turned him down. 

“I like studying out here,” she'd said, glancing up to look out of the windows. “If it bothers you, I can put everything away.” 

“It doesn't bother me,” he'd said, leaning down to kiss her temple. “I just want you to be comfortable here.” 

She had beamed at him and turned her head to brush her mouth over his. 

5. 

Quinn waited until the one year anniversary of the day he and Sarah met to officially announce their relationship. 

He knew by that time that they could go the distance. He'd seen her through every month and every season and saw no major red flags. Not to mention the fact that everyone in his life liked her, and her family and friends seemed to like him.

Over the course of the year, he'd moved pictures he liked of Sarah and pictures he liked of them together into a favorites album he simply called S. So, in late January, he put together a post and sent it to his PR rep to look over. After they sent it back with some edits, he showed it to Sarah. 

Sarah, who for her part, knew this was coming but wasn’t quite sure what to expect, was taken a bit off guard. She knew Quinn read a lot and was thoughtful with his words, but reading his simple summary of their relationship made her melt. 

He’d included 5 pictures of her that were interspersed with 5 pictures of them together. The first photo was that perfect, golden hour sunset selfie. The rest were all photos she knew he loved. She’d seen some of them, and some of them, she hadn’t. There was a candid shot of her laughing with Jack and Luke that she hadn’t seen before as well as a picture she never knew he’d taken of her sitting at the dining room table with her laptop, looking pensively at the screen, fingers poised to type. There was the photo of them in front of their Christmas tree, and one of them laughing so hard, they were falling all over each other on a beach in Hawaii.

Under the photos, he’d simply written, The best year. and tagged her in the final photo - the dreamy picture Kaitlyn had taken of them under the mistletoe. 

“Quinn,” she breathed, looking up to find him smiling expectantly at her.

“You like it?” he asked. 

“I really like it,” she said, fighting back the tears that pushed at her eyes. 

“You’re sure you’re okay with this?”

He was ready for the world to know that not only was he taken, he was taken with her, and not afraid to say it, but he knew it would likely open up another door of criticism she’d never been exposed to before. 

“Yeah,” she said, nodding. “I’m ready.” 

The fact that Quinn wanted the world to know, without a doubt, that she was the one he was with made her heart race. 

They didn’t have to hide anymore. To her, it was the last, final cementing block in their relationship. It spoke of his faith in their future and his dedication to staying with her. He wouldn't put it out for the world to see if he had any doubts. 

He posted it right before practice two days later so he could work the anxiety of it off. 

When he got back to his locker an hour and a half later, he had 1,654 likes and over 200 comments. At first glance, they all seemed positive. Not that what random strangers thought of him meant much, but it was nice to know his fans were happy he was happy. 

Bonus scene: 

On the afternoon of the anniversary of their one year of meeting, Reece stopped Sarah as she walked into the building after work.

“I’ve got a delivery for you, Ms. Roberts,” he said, walking with her over to the security desk. 

Before he’d even picked them up, Sarah knew it must be the large bouquet of flowers that were an absolute riot of color - purple and yellow, red and pink, white and green. 

Quinn was out of town - playing in Toronto at that very moment, in fact - and she knew he must have sent them in place of being there in person. 

“Thank you, Reece,” she said, accepting the flowers and a card from him before heading upstairs. 

Trying to manage the vase, card, and her school bag, as well as press the button in the elevator, resulted in her accidentally slopping a large amount of water down her front. Thankfully, the large bouquet hid the spill from anyone else in the elevator, and she was the only one to get off on the top floor. Upon entering the apartment, she set the vase and card on the bar and went straight up to change. 

It wasn’t until she wandered down to make dinner during the second intermission and saw the bright flowers that she remembered the card. 

Her full name was on the envelope in someone else’s writing, and the front of the card was completely blank, so when she flipped it open, she was surprised to find Quinn’s handwriting filling most of it. 

It’s been one year since I took refuge in the aquarium, only to stumble upon a beautiful woman giving a talk about octopus and took the chance to ask her out. Back then, I just thought she was one of the most beautiful people I’d ever seen. Now I know that not only is she beautiful, she’s smart, kind, supportive and so driven she inspires me to do better. I don’t like to think what my life would be like if she’d turned down my offer for lunch, or I didn’t get up the guts to talk to her. This time with her has been a whirlwind and the best year of my life. 

I wrote this for the caption of the post that went up today, then realized the only person I really wanted to read it was you. 

Happy one year of meeting, Sarah. I’m so glad you took a chance and went out with me even though I was more than a little awkward. 

I love you. 

Love, 

Quinn 

Moved to tears by his thoughtful words, Sarah snapped a picture of the flowers to put up on her stories, adding the caption, Love you, @_quinnhughes, before texting him.

I love you. I can’t believe it’s been a year. Here’s to a million more.

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

[moralesluvr]

omg i have a funny idea have you seen that couples trend on tiktok where like one of them wraps themself in wrapping paper and surprises the other with it? I think having that in a fit and having it lead to giggly cute smut would be so cute and i know you would eat that up hopefully this makes sense idk LOVE U

LMFOAOAOA I LITERALLY LOVE THIS

wrapped up | b.eilish

the idea had come to you late one night, scrolling through tiktok while lying in bed. the trend popped up on your feed— a girl wrapped in shiny, ridiculous wrapping paper, jumping out at her boyfriend, and both of them collapsing into fits of laughter.

you couldn’t stop thinking about how billie would react if you tried it. knowing her, she’d either find it hilarious or give you her classic deadpan look, followed by a teasing comment. you were always playing pranks on her and it drove her nuts, but deep down, she always found it funny too. it seemed worth it.

so you got to work, scouting out the attic while billie was away at some interview, searching from some old wrapping paper that you could use.

the hardest part wasn’t the idea itself, but the execution.

you spent the better part of the afternoon figuring out how to wrap yourself up. it was ridiculous, fumbling with tape and paper in the mirror, trying not to crinkle it too much while also ensuring it stayed in place.

you were on the phone with zoe, who thought the idea was absolutely hilarious. she was cracking up on the other side of the phone, watching as you tried to swivel the roll of wrapping paper around your hips.

“this is so stupid,” you muttered under your breath, struggling to secure a bow to your chest. but the thought of billie’s laugh kept you going as zoe giggled, “please record her reaction, i need this.”

when you were finally satisfied— or as satisfied as you could be— you bid zoe farewell and opened your video app, positioning yourself in the middle of the living room and waited on billie to get back home.

after what felt like ages, the sound of the front door opening made your heart race.

“baby?” billie called, her voice soft but curious, “why is it so quiet?”

you stifled a giggle, trying to stay as still as possible. it felt like everytime you moved, it sounded like you were opening an entire chip aisle all at once.

you heard billie’s footsteps as they echoed closer, and then she stepped into the room, her eyes immediately landing on you.

it took a second for her to process the sight of you, wrapped head to toe in gold, shiny paper, a bow slightly askew on your chest.

“what the—” she started, her lips twitching as she fought to keep a straight face. she couldn’t tell if you were serious, but she let a giggle slip from her lips as she folded over her body in laughter.

“surprise!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms out, the paper crinkling loudly with the movement, which made you snicker.

“girl, what the hell?” billie managed between breaths, tears forming in the corners of her eyes, “what is this?”

you pouted dramatically, folding your arms over your chest as the wrapping paper ripped under your arm’s weight. the curvature of your breasts caught billie’s eye, and she gave you wide eyes. “bils, you don’t like your present?”

“oh, i love it,” she said, stepping closer, still shying away a few giggles. inevitably, her eyes lower themselves, “you look….really good.”

she reached out, her fingers gently tugging at the paper that had fallen off of your shoulder. “you really went all out, huh?”

“i wanted to do something cute,” you giggled, pointing to your phone that was set up on the counter, your cheeks heating under her gaze. “plus, you always say I’m the best gift you’ve ever gotten, so…”

her laughter softened into a warm smile, her hands settling on your waist, crinkling the paper beneath her fingers. “you’re so ridiculous.”

“you love it,” you shot back mockingly, smoothing out a crinkle in your wrapping paper skirt proudly.

“i love you,” billie said, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek as you smiled underneath her gentle touch, “even when you’re dressed like one of santa’s elves.”

you giggled at that, quickly ending the video simultaneously to billie snaking her arms around your waist, pressing tons of kisses across your cheeks.

things escalated from there— and they escalated quickly, at that.

it started with her teasing you, pretending to unwrap you like an actual gift, tugging at the tape and paper piece by piece. but the way her fingers brushed against your skin, the way her laughter softened into something quieter, more intimate— it made your breath hitch.

“you’re so cute,” she murmured, her lips ghosting over your jaw as she pulled another piece of paper off of your frame, leaving your chest borderline exposed.

you shiver under her touch that’s contrast to the warm air as her ringed hands graze over your collarbone. her voice is hushed to a soft whisper, “can i use my gift, baby?”

you nod fervently as billie giggles at your eagerness, carefully placing big rips in the wrapping paper until you’re completely nude in front of her. you can see her eyes soften, big and wide with love and admiration as she scoops you up like it’s nothing, your legs wrapping around her waist.

billie sits you down gently on the couch cushions, immediately lowering herself onto her knees. she grabs a hair tie from her wrist, offering you strong eye contact as she put her hair in a ponytail.

“you look so pretty for me,” she praises, finishing off her temporary hairdo before giving you a kiss to your thighs, her eyes still piercing into yours. “wanna make you feel good, is that okay?”

you nod at her, “please touch me, bils. been waiting for you all day.”

“clearly you have, walkin’ around looking like one of santa’s slutty elves.” billie can’t help but giggle, looking at the pile of discarded wrapping paper that’s on the floor, a pattern with reindeers and little bells printed over it. you snicker, “it was for you, though! you were on my nice list, i was giving you a gift.”

“uh huh.” billie smiles, fingers digging into the waistband of your red thong, sliding it off and onto the floor in one swift motion. you feel her hot tongue dip between your folds, collecting your arousal on the muscle as her hand comes up to massage your thighs.

you let out a soft moan as billie’s tongue finds home on your clit, little whines sliding through your gritted teeth as your hands grip at the sheets. you’re so engrossed in your pleasure that you almost don’t realize that billie’s stopped— you only know because you can hear her loud laugh from underneath you. you sit up and cock an eyebrow, “something wrong?”

billie shakes her head, trying to calm her laughter down, “there’s…wrapping paper…on your…vagina.” she almost chokes the way she’s cackling, and you just frown as billie fans her face, trying to sedate herself.

“okay, i’m sorry mama, it’s just so cute how much effort you put into this.” she smiles, and you feel your skin grow hot when she gently places two fingers inside of your dripping cunt, immediately curling them and thrusting into you quickly, but lovingly. she returns her touch back onto your clit, sucking on the bud as quiet moans of her name pass from your lips.

“always have been such a giver….” billie murmurs into your sex, “just wanna make my girl feel good, yeah? you wanna cum for me, baby?”

“m-mhm!” you stifle out a chopped response, letting yourself get lost in the way she touches you, your skin tingling as your walls tighten around billie’s fingers.

she coos at you, “i know, love, it’s okay— cum for me.”

and you do just that, louder moans passing through your lips as your orgasm hits you in a strong wave, your skin hot and bubbly as you let your high course through your veins.

“such a good girl,” billie murmurs against your cunt, watching as you fall apart beneath her, a smile etched on her face.

“the best gift i’ve ever gotten.”

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[bewaryofpity]

MERRY CHRISTMAS, I MISS YOU - N. HISCHIER

[6.7k] when you received a call from your ex on christmas eve, the last thing you wanted to do was to pretend you're still together in front of his parents.

warnings: 18+, exes to lovers, angst but not really, fluff, unprotected p in v (wrap it up !), creampie, oral both f and m receiving, slightly unedited, if i missed anything pls let me know

a/n: i have no idea what this is lol, i did lose the plot at some point so the ending i planned didn’t make it and so didn’t the title, anyhow i think it’s best this way. i hope you all enjoy ! feedback is greatly appreciated ♡

A year had passed, it was December again and Nico had done nothing if not being stuck with the same feeling of missing you. Almost an entire year of no contact, apart from a few congrats texts for your occasional achievements, and yet there he was staring at his phone for the third time tonight, his thumb hovering over your name. 

Nico was no coward, he needed to keep his head on his shoulders for his line of work, but he was certainly trying to find any excuse to keep him from calling you. Almost one year of convincing himself that he moved on, that he was content with how your relationship has ended, just for all that progress to crumble at his feet because he was, actually, a coward. 

But this wasn’t just about him. His parents were in town for Christmas for the first time in years, excited to finally spend the holidays in New Jersey with his son. And they expected you to be there. He hadn’t told them you two broke up, though. He couldn’t. He was never able to break the news to his mom who considered you as her daughter, and he had to pay the price now.

With a heavy sigh, Nico pressed call. He immediately started to regret calling, cringing at the idea of a missed call on your phone if he hung up now, when the ringing stopped.

“Hello?” You said, voice coated with slight confusion. Nico felt a punch to the chest at the sound of your voice, all at once familiar and foreign.

“Hey, it’s me.” Nico’s voice faltered.

“I know.” You promptly utter. Silence fell on the line.

“It’s been a while, I know,” Nico mumbled “but I need a favor.” You hummed as an acknowledgement for him to keep speaking. 

“My parents are in town for Christmas and they expect to see you.”

“I don’t see why they—”

“I never told them.”

Nico was almost sure you hung up for how quiet you became. His heart drumming in his chest was making him more helpless than he already was, unable to come up with something else to say. 

His phone sat heavy on his hand when he heard you take a deep breath. A nervous laugh escaped your mouth, what the hell whispered in between. 

“You’ve had all this time to tell them we broke up, what were you waiting for?” Your voice lacked judgment. 

“I know I messed up,” he said, desperation creeping into his voice. “But they’re here now, and I—I didn’t know how to tell them. It’s Christmas tomorrow, Y/N. They’re so excited to see you. I just need you to come tonight or tomorrow. Please.”

“Nico—”

“It’s just one dinner. Then you’ll never have to hear from me again. I swear. If not for me, do it for them at least.”

He could almost see your furrowed eyebrows and the silence on the line was suffocating him again. Your calm breathing was making his chest tight, not ready to brace for rejection.

“Okay.”

He took a long exhale, “thank you.” He spoke softly, a small smile painting his lips.

Before he had the chance to speak up, you had already hung up. Nico sat back, his head tipping against the edge of the couch, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling while bringing his arm down with a thud. Your voice still echoed in his ears, each word carving a hollow space in his chest. Your voice was as warm as he remembered, yet so flat.

Y/N: spare key still under the mat? i’m coming after work, not sure about tomorrow.

Nico’s phone vibrated in his hand, your text’s preview giving him some reassurance.

Nico: yes Nico: and thank you

He pushed himself off the couch, his body feeling heavy. It wasn’t long before he had to go and pick up his parents from the airport. He absentmindedly picked up his car keys and walked out to his car.

It was supposed to be simple. A call, a favor, a dinner. But he has been clinging to the idea of you, of what you used to be, that he now felt like facing the consequences of his own actions instead of dragging you back into his life would have been a much better idea. 

Nico didn’t realize the drive, the pick up, and the drive back to his apartment had already happened. Tension began coiling in his chest, the heavy weight he kept feeling for days now coming back.

He didn’t want to see you, actually. Or maybe he did. His mind was bringing him back to the night you both had reluctantly agreed that a break up was needed. It was no secret to you that he didn’t want to break up, he told you then. He wasn’t happy, he felt like dying for the most part. He couldn’t sleep, let alone leave his apartment if not for practice and games. But that was what you wanted and he gave it to you.

“You okay in there, kid?” His dad’s call out echoed from the living room, bringing him back to reality. 

“Yeah, I just needed water.” Nico called back. When he turned around to join them in the living room, he was met with his mom leaning on the kitchen doorway. With eyes wide, he gave her a tight lipped smile, hoping she won’t question his behavior. I’m fine wouldn’t have been enough for her, she could always see right through him, and even if Nico told her the truth it probably wouldn’t have made him feel any better.

Before she could say something, the front door opened and his mom jumped to see you, forgetting about his son, and Nico stayed there with goosebumps forming on his arms, hot and cold shivers running down his spine. 

Upon entering you heard a brief silence. You didn’t even register that his mom was right there that she already jogged to bring you in her arms. You were frozen in your space for a second, unsure of what to do. The last time you’d seen each other was the summer Nico brought you to Switzerland where everything felt so right. Yet here you were. You missed her, that was true; she reached out to you a few times, and despite knowing it was out of the kindness of her heart, you couldn’t help but think of how many excuses Nico threw at her for your not being around. How he lied to his mom for all this time was something you couldn’t comprehend.

“Oh, it’s so good to see you, sweetheart!” She cheered, parting slightly from the hug and giving your shoulders a comforting squeeze.

“Hi, Mrs. Hischier.”

“Please, how many times do I have to tell you to just call me Katja.” She waved you off and you smiled. His dad followed, giving you a simple side hug.

As his parents continued fussing over you, Nico finally moved to the living room to watch the scene unfold. You stood in his apartment again and it felt like you never left. You were beautiful and you had those rosy cheeks you would get from the cold wind of Jersey that Nico loved so much. The ache in his chest grew and it was getting hard to resist the tears that kept forming in his eyes since this morning.

When you made eye contact with Nico it was like someone punched you in the chest. His brown eyes were glossy, wide like a deer in headlights. He didn’t shave, not that he did often, but it looked less kept than it usually was.

You reluctantly stepped towards him, gaze focused on his chest and that’s when you saw his left hand twitch in your direction before he brought it back down. It completely left your mind that you couldn’t keep your distance from him now with his parents here. Though the moments you two kissed in front of family were almost nonexistent, Nico was always the kind of guy to keep you close within arm reach, so no physical contact would be odd.

So you did the most natural thing you could do. You gave him a hug. Your skin was burning where he was touching you. It felt like that night again and you wanted to disappear. You felt his heart rapidly thumping in his chest, or maybe it was yours. It didn’t really matter. Nico looked at his mom before he looked down at you. He was getting overwhelmed with the amount of times he almost cried only today and prayed for the day to come to an end sooner.

“Hey.” Your voice was small, audible only to him. He replied with an equally small hey, throat dry. Silence stretched between you and you could feel the tension on your skin. A small part of you couldn’t part ways as you inhaled his scent. The warmth from his chest was seeping through his hoodie and you wished you could just stay there a little longer.

You barely drew back when Katja put a hand on your shoulder and brought you back into her with a side hug. 

“Come, sit. Let me catch you up while we eat. I’ll show you some pictures from this summer, it was a shame you couldn’t come to Switzerland this time.”

You casted a glance at Nico which he avoided. You barely registered Katja’s words as she scrolled through her phone for you and all you could think of was how she deserved to know. She looked so happy sharing these memories with you, as though you still belonged here, and it wasn’t her fault that she believed so. 

“Next time, you have to come. We missed you so much.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

You swallowed hard, forcing another smile. Nico shifted in his chair beside you, his hand reaching for his water but his posture was rigid. He didn’t say a word, you could feel the tension radiating off him silently acknowledging the lie hanging in the air. A part of you wanted to say something, to clear the air, because his mom was kind, but it wasn’t for you to deal with. It wasn’t you that lied.

The pizza in front of you looked unpleasant as the ache in your stomach made you more nauseous. 

*

You wanted to go home. Nico’s parents called it a night early blaming it on jet lag and that tomorrow is gonna be a big day, his father said.

You were left alone with Nico in the living room, neither of you were saying anything. You were just staring ahead paying no mind to whatever Christmas movie was left playing softly on the TV.

It was awkward. You put yourself in this situation because you missed Nico, truthfully. When he called you this morning you weren’t really thinking of what was best for you, you just wanted an excuse to come back to him. Selfish as it was. It was rather hypocritical that you craved his presence again after you were the one to propose the break up. But you spent two years together so your whole life consisted of him. He was everywhere, your apartment smelled like him even months after he left, things he left behind that both of you have forgotten about were lingering in a corner in your closet. It took time letting him go from your mind, but you were here and it felt so wrong. The look he gave you when you parted from your hug earlier made you feel so guilty.

“I’ll sleep here, you can take the bed.” Nico said softly, voice above a whisper. You startled anyway, jerking your head in his direction. You had told him earlier that to not raise any suspicion with his parents, you would spend the night here.

“It’s your bed.” You replied with the same tone. He looked at you now, his brown eyes glowing in the dim light emanating from the TV. You couldn’t take the bed, it would smell like him and you could endure it only so much before going crazy. 

“It doesn't matter.”

“What are you gonna tell them when they find you here in the morning?” He didn’t answer, instead he brought his focus back to the TV. Were you going to regret this? Probably. “Just come to bed with me, Nico.”

Avoiding his gaze, you slowly began walking towards his room, your feet moving on their own accord. Everything was left the same. The pit in your stomach grew tighter when you pushed the door to his room open and blindly reached for the lamp on the nightstand. The patter of Nico’s feet grew louder until he reached his bedroom’s doorway.

“There’s still some clothes you left here.” He motioned to the dresser next to him. You hummed in response and as he rummaged through one of the drawers, you stood by the bed like you couldn't move. Idiot. If you weren't staring at him so intensely you would've missed how shaky his hands were when he reached for you to grab at your clothes. You peered up for a second, his gaze focused on the clothes in his hand heavy.

“I’ll–”

“Yeah.”

The bathroom door clicked shut behind you, your forehead coming to rest on it. He was beautiful. And he made your heart warm like he always knew how to. But he wasn’t the Nico you always knew, you could see it in his eyes. Fear started pooling in your stomach. Was it your doing? You avoided the mirror in front of you completely.

After hastily changing and brushing your teeth, you joined him back into the room. He was already under the covers, on his usual side, front facing the window. You quietly got under the blanket too and laid close to the end of the bed staring at the ceiling. The hum of the heater filled the silence, yet the weight of unspoken words pressed down on your heart.

“Never thought you’d say yes.”

You took your time to respond and kept staring at the white ceiling illuminated by the moonlight coming through the curtains’ gap.

“Why?”

The rustling of the covers filled the silence as Nico shifted slightly. 

“You made it seem like you wanted nothing to do with me anymore.”

“I don’t regret you, Nico.”

“I never said you did.”

You exhaled sharply. The weight of the duvet became unbearable, and with a swift motion you shoved it off, pooling in your lap; arms followed with a dull thud, slamming onto the bunched-up duvet. The cold air nipped at your exposed burning skin.

“Talk to me.” You breathed. Nico didn't move and you were growing frustrated. “Do you regret it?”

“Being with you? Sometimes. I made many mistakes and you were always there for me and I took that for granted. I pushed you away when you needed me most, and by the time I realized it, it was too late. I know you deserve so much better but deep down, I wish we didn't end that night, we just stay there and talk it out.”

“I think that maybe I would always let you come back” he said softly, almost inaudibly, “not that I waited for you, exactly. But when I called you this morning and you agreed, I had the tiniest hope that things could change. If you came, and at the end of the night told me you still loved me and asked me to be yours again… I'm not sure there’s anything in the world I wouldn't have done for that to really happen.”

Shuffling towards the middle of the bed, your hand reached for him to comb through his hair, his body jumping a little at the unexpected contact. He shifted a little to get closer to you and turned around to face you.

“You’re awful.”

“What?”

“Don’t say things like that,” you said, your voice low and strained. “Not when we’re lying here like this. I didn’t leave because I stopped loving you, Nico, I left because I didn’t recognize us anymore. You were indifferent, coming home upset and angry more often than not all because of your job. I could’ve respected that, I would’ve listened to you if you opened up to me. But you didn’t talk to me anymore and I didn’t know what to do with you, it’s like you were holding a knife to my chest and slowly pushing it deeper until you reached my heart. It got to a point where I dreamed of you asking me questions, talking to me, desiring me like you always did. Then I’d open my eyes and you're someone different.”

“Maybe in another lifetime we will find each other at the right time. Maybe we end up like this in each one, but I like to believe there is at least one where we deserve each other. I just don't think it’s this one.”

Your hand never stopped caressing through his hair. It didn’t take long for a stray tear to fall from your eye just as Nico closed his eyes to avoid his own spilling over the pillow with no avail. You halted your movements to bring your thumb under his eye and wipe at the loose tears. He didn’t say anything else, and neither did you. Nico grabbed at the covers you bunched up earlier to cover you again.

You shifted slightly, the duvet brushing against your arm as your body relaxed fully into the mattress. You felt his warmth beside you — steady and grounding. The minutes dragged on, and eventually both of your breathing slowed, evening out into sleep. 

*

It was early in the morning when Nico woke up. The sunrise barely peeked through the curtains, casting a soft glow over his bed. It took him a while to realize that it wasn’t his duvet weighing on his chest, it was you. Your face was mushed and lips pouty, his right arm wrapped around you securely. You looked like an angel.

He didn’t have it in his heart to wake you up. Instead, his gaze lingered on your peaceful expression, focused on the soft rise and fall of your breaths that tickled his skin, a steady rhythm that made his chest ache. His thumb brushed against your shoulder lightly, a barely-there touch because it all felt like a dream and he didn’t want it to end. He sighed softly, tilting his head back against the pillow and closing his eyes again. The weight of your body lulled him back to sleep, the hold on you loosening slightly but never letting go.

Moments later, the morning light shining on your eyes stirred you awake, and you couldn’t help but blink groggily. The warmth surrounding you was so comforting that you couldn’t resist burying your face into it and that’s when your heart began to race. Nico’s face was so close you only needed to make the slightest movement before his lips would graze your forehead; his features relaxed and peaceful in his sleep. The stubble on his jaw caught the morning glow, and the soft strands of his hair brushed against his forehead.

Every instinct screamed at you to move, to untangle yourself from the undeniable comfort of being close to him again, but the minutes passed and the blush on your cheeks deepened with every second you lingered. When it became too much to bear, slowly, carefully, you slid out from under his arm, your movements cautious to avoid waking him. 

Your feet hit the cool floor and the blush now burning like wildfire across your cheeks while you tiptoed to the kitchen, closing the door gently behind you. The conversation with Nico kept replaying in your head, or rather the fact that he was crying, and Nico never cried in front of you unless they were happy tears. 

You relished in his touch. The feeling of his stubble on your hands was something you never thought you’d miss, yet the rough texture was rather comforting. And then this morning when his lips have probably grazed your skin in your sleep at least once, you wished you were conscious to savor it like you actually didn't deserve. 

“Huh?”

“I said good morning and merry Christmas.” Katja smiled brightly at you, Rino mirroring her action while also raising his coffee cup. You looked ridiculous still in your rumpled makeshift pajamas and your face still flushed from the morning’s events. 

“Oh, merry Christmas.” You offered a small smile as you moved to pour yourself some coffee, hyper aware of their presence. Despite the blush painting your cheeks, you started to feel cold. The t-shirt Nico gave you was thin, an old band shirt you left behind, but the pants were scrunched at your feet. He didn’t notice they were actually his yesterday, they were always yours to wear anyway.

“You’re up early,” Katja remarked, setting her coffee cup on the table. “I thought for sure you two would sleep in after staying up so late talking.”

Your hand froze mid-reach, “yeah, just couldn’t sleep much.” You replied, hoping your tone was casual enough.

She gave you a look but said nothing, her warm demeanor unchanging though she definitely knew something was off. Did she actually hear what you said yesterday night? The walls couldn’t be that thin, right? The sound of footsteps from the hallway behind you woke you up a little, and you didn’t need to turn around to know it was Nico.

“Morning,” he said, his voice gravelly from sleep. You turned slightly, catching sight of him leaning against the counter next to you. His brown hair was disheveled and his shirt slightly wrinkled, but his expression was almost unreadable. If you didn’t know otherwise, you would’ve mistaken his slightly puffy eyes for sleepiness.

His gaze lingered on the ground for a moment, and then he tilted his head up, noticing the way you had wrapped your free arm around yourself. Before you could protest, Nico walked out of the kitchen. Katja glanced at you confused after he barely acknowledged her or Rino.

“Here,” he said, holding his black hoodie from yesterday out to you. It was your favorite, the one that was so fuzzy inside it felt like a blanket and the one he would leave behind for you when he left for road trips. You blinked, momentarily stunned by the gesture. 

“Oh, I’m fine—”

“You’re shivering.” He interrupted, his voice firm but gentle. His gaze met yours and reluctantly you took the hoodie, your fingers brushing his briefly as you did.

“Thanks.” You mumbled, slipping it over your head. The warmth was immediate, just like the familiar trace of his scent as it filled your senses. What made it impossible to bear was Nico leaning over just slightly to press a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. Blush be damned.

Nico moved around the kitchen to pour himself some coffee as you caught the faintest hint of a smirk on Katja’s face. As she walked past to place her now empty cup in the sink, she leaned close to you with the same sly smile still playing on her lips.

“We’re not gonna let Nico cook alone later, right?”

*

The day went by fast and dinner was long done. The unavoidable intimacy seemed to dissipate the cold demeanor you had opted for yesterday when you arrived, just as Nico started to look less dejected. Letting him back in your life wouldn’t be that bad, after all, you did drop everything to be here with him. You still loved him, just like he did you, but you couldn’t accept coming back to Nico after all this pain you left him with.

“What happened between you and Nico?”

The question made you falter, almost dropping the already slippery plate in your hands. There was no you and Nico anymore. Whatever happened between you two didn’t matter anymore as now none of it made sense. It was your mistake all along, the break up. Because if it wasn’t for a bad day at work for the both of you, you wouldn’t have fought and none of this would have happened.

“Why?”

“You two seem off.”

You wanted out of the relationship for your own sake, yet you didn’t realize how much you were hurting until yesterday. The no escaping his touch or his gaze made your head dizzy because it took you months before you convinced yourself that you were fine without him, and now that Nico was gentle to you even in the mess he created that he so wanted to disappear from, your newfound façade was long gone.

“Nothing. Our schedules clashed often and we didn't have much time for ourselves.”

Part of it was true if you thought back to last year. With Nico constantly on road trips and his team not playing their best, and your job keeping you away from him, the only time you saw each other was during nighttime. And with both of you exhausted there wasn’t much to say without striking a nerve.

Katja leaned her hip on the counter, leaning slightly to try to read your expression, your eyebrows furrowed as you kept scrubbing the same plate over and over again. 

You didn’t notice Nico lingering by the door until his mom placed a hand on your shoulder. You turned around in his direction as she walked past him with a good night under her breath, just as Nico came to stand in her previous spot.

“How long have you been standing there?” 

“Long enough to tell you that that plate is clean enough.”

You handed him the last plate with a sigh and as you waited for him to dry it, you couldn’t help but stare at his faint smile. Before you could stop yourself, your hand reached for his cheek, brushing at the small new scar there. His movements hesitated for a moment before turning to face you, your hand dropping slightly at the action. You almost missed the way his gaze dropped to your lips for a split second before looking back into your eyes.

Maybe it was the wine you both drank earlier or maybe it was meant to happen. Nico leaned down, cupping your face to kiss you. It was gentle, a bit hesitant, almost as if he was giving you space to pull away. But you didn’t, not even if your brain told you so.

He pulled away, lips still brushing yours and his eyes closed. You missed his lips on yours, so soft and tender just as you remembered and desperately wished to feel again.

“I’m sor—“

You didn’t let him finish as you put your lips back on his, hands making their way from his chest to wrap around his neck. You were desperate for more, fearing that the moment would end too soon, but Nico squeezed your hip a little to ground you. He wasn’t going anywhere.

His tongue brushed your lips and you let him in. A small moan escaped his mouth and you couldn’t help but feed into it. A faint taste of wine still lingered on his tongue, sweetness clouding your thoughts.

“Please tell me to stop”

“No, don’t stop.”

Both of his hands trailed their way around your body, eager to feel every curve of your body again. He needed to feel you, keep his hands on you to ground himself because he was scared this actually never happened and it was just a sick joke his mind was playing.

As the kiss grew more sloppy and hands roaming with no set purpose, Nico held you impossibly closer to him, his body heat burning against your skin. He held tightly onto your waist, murmuring a small jump against your lips as he hoisted you up the counter, legs instinctively wrapping around his lower back.

The overwhelming feeling of it all almost made you cry. It was tender, yet the way your lips moved set a different pace.

“Take me to bed, Nico.”

He gently pushed away strands of hair that had fallen in front of your eyes before his hand rested on your cheek. “We don’t have to, we can stop now and it’ll all be okay.”

“I need you to make love to me.” And Nico grabbed at your thighs, keeping you tight against his chest as he walked to his bedroom. You didn’t have to tell him twice, he just wanted to give you space in case this was too much.

He laid you gently on the bed and kissed you again, fervor replaced by love. He pecked your lips before pressing another kiss to your cheek.

“You’re so beautiful.” He said as one of his hands traveled up your hoodie, leaving a tingling trail where he had touched you, while the other one gave him support by your head.

You brought his lips back on yours, thumbs tracing every curve of his cheeks. Beard tickling your skin, his plush lower lip found its way between yours, and he allowed his mouth to smile against yours for the first time today. You were lost in the feeling of him, and so was him with yours, lips brushing as though this was the lifetime in which you were meant for each other. 

What you once knew as love filled both of your hearts again. This wasn’t fair. His hands on you, his lips on you, you in his bed. It wasn’t fair because you broke his heart, just as you broke your own.

“Take my hoodie off.” You whispered and he obliged. Nico’s nose skimmed along your neck, delighting himself in the way your skin felt along the warmth of his own. And he allowed himself to slide down to trace the skin of your collarbone, then kissing along the ridges of your ribs and allowing himself to drown once more in you.

As his lips reached your hips, he looked up at you smiling so sweetly, a sort of reassurance painting your face. He slid your jeans off before he brought himself up to you, reveling in the feeling of your chest meeting his own with every heaving breath. The soft lace of your bra brushed his chest, catching the curves and edges of his skin.

It had been too long since you’d felt his touch —or anyone’s for that matter— so the touch of his hands against your skin was enough to fuel the pulsing ache between your legs. 

You took his hand in yours, placing a kiss on the center of his palm before slowly guiding his hand down to your center. And Nico never stopped looking at you, not even when the feeling of the damp fabric as he slid a finger over your clothed slit made a groan escape his lips.

He left a trail of open-mouthed kisses on his way back to your thighs, discarding your bra in the process. You whined when he nipped his teeth against the sensitive skin of your thigh, and you whined again at the soft brush of his mustache on the same spot.

Gently pushing your panties aside, Nico stroked two fingers along your now-bare slit, heat rushing to his cheeks at the way your hips involuntarily rolled into him, chest heaving at his touch. 

“Is this okay?” You nodded in response and he didn’t wait much before dipping into your core. With a gentle grip, he pushed your thighs apart, kissing your folds before licking a long stripe over them. 

And Nico was in heaven as you squirmed under his touch, reveling in the feeling of your warm thighs caging his head as soft moans escaped your mouth. The scratch of his beard sent jolts down your spine and when he added a finger inside of you, you couldn’t help the buckle of your hips against his mouth.

Your hand busied through his hair, fingers tugging at his roots gently and the vibrations from his groans against your clit sent you overwhelming waves of pleasure. You sounded like an angel to his ears and Nico had to roll his hips onto the bed sheets to soothe himself just a little bit.

“Please give it to me, baby.” Nico murmured against your core as he added another finger.

And you dared to look down at him, so concentrated in getting a taste of you, gently and slowly because he missed this and his body yearned for a taste of you like a drug.

The feeling of his fingers curling inside of you in the right spots and his tongue applying pressure on your clit were enough for the air to leave your lungs. With a moan, slightly too loud, you came on his fingers and Nico held you against him to catch every single drop of your release.

“You taste so sweet, baby.”

Baby. You opened your eyes to see his cheeks red, your arousal coating his chin and he’s looking at you like you hung the moon through hazy eyes. It didn’t come as a surprise to you when a tear fell from your eyes, and soon you couldn’t stop them from running down your cheeks.

He kissed his way up to you with a sort of urgency to cradle your face in his hands. And the tears didn’t stop when he tried to kiss them away.

“I’m right here, you’re okay.”

“I love you. I’m sorry.”

It was the only thing you could say, really, unsure whether the apology was directed to yourself or him. But it didn’t really matter because he was here now, in your arms, sensitive and tender as ever. 

“Nico”

“Mh?” His face mere inches away from yours, noses and lips brushing.

“Let me take care of you.”

Nico would have told you no, because he didn’t need your mouth to show him you still loved him, your words were more than enough to him. But your hands moved from his shoulders down to his chest, stopping right at his heart and he knew you could feel his heart racing up. 

So he let you guide him on his back as you shifted on top of him, straddling his thighs before kissing your way down. You mouthed at the skin on his neck, focusing on sucking at the pulsing point connecting at his shoulder.

His abs clenched under the touch of your hands and a staggered breath left his lips when your face reached the band of his boxers. You kissed around his hips, delicate fingers tracing up and down his thighs as you teased his tip over his boxers with a kiss, causing it to jump under your touch. You noticed a small damp spot and you smiled, pulling down his boxers agonizingly slow. Eager as he has always been with you, you knew it took every ounce of control for him not to lose himself then.

You brought your hand to the base of his cock, his breath hitching as you pumped him slowly, and squeezing just slightly to milk precum out of his tip. You followed the vein from the base to his tip with your tongue as your thumb pressed over the leaking slit, hips jumping at your touch.

“Please don’t tease me.” He whined under his breath, watching as you brought your thumb to your lips. And how could you say no to that?

You parted your lips to suck at his tip, sinking down until you reached his base and Nico shivered underneath you at the contact with the back of your throat. Your mouth continued to work around him, and he whimpered as you flatten your tongue to take more of him into your mouth. And he was drowning in pleasure as you used one of your hands to wrap around what you couldn’t take in your mouth as the other gripped at his thigh.

You made eye contact with him when his right hand caressed through your hair and you moaned around him, a few strands of his hair sticking to his forehead and chest flushed. You felt his cock twitch inside of you and you knew he was close. He was in such a haze he almost missed that a few more strokes of your tongue would’ve made him come, and he didn’t want that. He wanted to relish in the feeling of your walls for that.

A soft stop left his lips just as his hand carefully pulled at your hair to get you off him. And the sight of you, lips parted and wet and subtly swollen, weren’t helping his cause.

He shifted his weight onto his elbow, other hand cradling your face to pull you in for a chaste kiss. 

“Let me be yours.”

“You’ve always been.”

With his head on your shoulder, he gently pushed you down onto your back. Nico lifted himself to his knees, sliding his boxers down his legs and slipping out of them before hovering you again and removing your panties. His forehead came to rest against yours, eyes fluttering shut as he paused in his movements to take it all in. He had you again and he needed to make the most out of his time, fear looming in the back of his mind that you’d still leave tomorrow without a word.

Your hands cupped his jaw and you arched forward to capture his lips on yours. It was slow, his fingers curling around the nape of your neck, pulling you closer. Eagerly, he pressed into your touch, the soft weight of his chest pressing into yours comforting.

Your legs wrapped around his torso hoping to get some relief from your aching core. And Nico never stopped kissing you as he aligned himself with your entrance, teasing you with his length along your slit and causing you to buck, moans suppressed by his saccharine lips.

As he inched in, deeper into you, Nico savoured your warmth as if you were made just for him —and truthfully you were— movements deliberate and steady just like how he knew you liked.

He didn’t want to seem desperate but you were squeezing him tight, nails digging into his back and your arms wrapped tightly around him refusing to let him go. With the heels of your feet pressing into his lower back, he knew not to be ashamed for your desperation matched his. 

His body curled over yours, nose poking at your jaw so he could bite at your throat as he keeps fucking into you. One hand came to cup the back of your neck bringing you impossibly closer, and the way he was whispering dirty little nothings, lips brushing the shell of your ear, brought you to the edge.

Nico’s set thrusts urged you ever closer to your peak as he rolled his hips into yours, movement heavy inside of you, his fingers dropping to draw circles on your sensitive clit as your labored murmuring for more fanned against his lips. And you were an angel with the way you took him, welcoming him in at the gates of heaven with your honeyed sounds.

You rushed forward, chasing his lips as your release surged through you, tightening around him with a sweet sigh and his tongue swept into your mouth as he drowned your moans. His own release followed right after, emptying inside of you. The sound of his satisfied groan blissful to your ears as he came to rest on top of you.

Heaved breathing, Nico’s head settled on your chest and you made to sweep his hair from his eyes to admire the sweat-sheen glow adorning his warm skin. Your hands worked at his shoulder, kneading the muscles there as you took every opportunity to feel his skin against yours.

Nico shifted on his side and brought you with him, taking a moment to press a kiss to his pec, his neck and his lips once again. 

“Will you let me stay?”

“I don’t think you really need my answer to that.”

Nico slid his hands up your side, bringing your thigh over his hip. His large palm heavy as you shifted impossibly closer, one hand rubbing his scalp. And you kissed him without lust, simply reveling in the feel of his tongue dancing against yours, while he followed your lead wordlessly, squeezing so tenderly at your hip because this time he knows you will be there tomorrow. And any other day after.

[letskilltimetogether]

I’m glad I haven’t accidentally spoiled anything- I don’t think I’ve said much past Treasure Island. Are you excited for the season in Jan? I’m very excited to see how they translate it, and what they cut/add.

I’m a little nervous bc I heard this is the final season they’re making, but there’s a lot more arcs ahead, so idk if they’re going to rush it or just cut it off or what.

Spoilers for all of Anime, as well as vague descriptions of later arcs

I def agree, Senkuu is the best leader shown in Dr. Stone and he does work well bc he’s science focused and most of civilization is also science focused. (Trying to avoid spoilers) Later in the story they encounter a group of people who directly oppose most of their values, a have to work with them. About here is when I would exchange Senkuu’s leadership with the 5 Generals, as things become more complicated.

It would be very funny to have an episode where Senkuu has to drop all the science and craft a legal system lmao.

I agree that Hyoga fighting Moz instead of Senkuu is evidence Hyoga supports women(idk that sentence is so funny. Hyoga supports women’s rights and women’s wrongs). To delve into more character stuff, I think this moment could also be tied to Hyoga’s interest in “incredible people.” He wanted to keep most people in stone and only revive petrified people who possess extraordinary skills, to create like a super powerful human race. In this situation, it’s either help Senkuu, who he says himself is on his level, or Moz, a strong enough guy but lacking awareness and also hates women. Hyoga chooses to help Senkuu as 1. He has that interest in Senkuu, and 2. Disagrees with Moz, thinking he is not an “incredible person.”

I totally agree with you, I just wanted to delve into his character, which I rarely get to do bc I don’t like him lol.

It’s totally cool that you’re an anime only watcher! I myself have read all the manga because I hyperfixated and needed to know what happened next IMMEDIATELY lmao. I actually prefer watching the anime, as having the characters audibly read their lines lets me focus more on the art and story beats, which is harder while reading. I’ll do my best to avoid manga spoilers!

For my next question… Who is your favorite character and why? Doesn’t have to be a complex reason, it could just be a feeling.

*eats a chip and hands both back to you*

Your honor they're homosexuals

[prettymfwrites]

𝑼𝒏𝒘𝒓𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑺𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒔

*＊✿❀　 ❀✿＊*

Ellie x Vi x Female Reader

Summary: Bringing your girlfriends, Ellie and Vi, home for the holidays was already nerve-wracking. But with your conservative parents and the pressure of keeping your relationship a secret, things get complicated. Between sneaky kisses, whispered confessions, and a family confrontation, this Christmas will test your love like never before.

---

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Ellie grumbled, leaning against the kitchen counter, her tattooed arm flexing as she crossed her arms. Her knife spun lazily in her hand, a nervous habit.

You looked up from where you were attempting to fold laundry, already flustered. “Ellie, we’ve talked about this. It’s just a few days, and then we’re back home. My parents have been asking me to visit forever.”

Vi smirked from the couch, her feet up on the coffee table. “Sounds like someone’s scared of a little holiday cheer.”

Ellie glared at her. “I’m not scared. I just don’t like the idea of sneaking around. It’s weird.”

“It’s not sneaking,” you said, sitting down beside Vi and tugging on her hoodie. “It’s… being strategic.”

“Strategic,” Ellie repeated, unimpressed. “So, your parents don’t know about us at all?”

“They know I’m bringing two ‘close friends,’” you said, making air quotes. “I just haven’t told them we’re, you know…”

“Sleeping together?” Vi supplied, raising an eyebrow.

You sighed. “Dating. Together. In love.”

Ellie snorted. “Yeah, this is gonna go great.”

Vi reached over to take your hand, her thumb brushing your knuckles. “Relax, babe. We’ll get through it. Worst case, Ellie makes some smartass remark, and we get kicked out before dessert.”

Ellie grinned. “That’s best-case scenario.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “This is my family we’re talking about. Can you at least try to behave?”

Vi leaned in, her voice dropping into a low, teasing tone. “I’ll behave if you promise to make it up to us later.”

Her breath was warm against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. Ellie, noticing your reaction, smirked and joined Vi, standing behind you to press a gentle kiss to your neck.

“You owe us big time,” Ellie murmured, her lips grazing your skin.

“I promise,” you whispered, your heart racing as Vi pulled you closer, her hand sliding up your thigh.

---

The drive to your parents’ house was uneventful, aside from Ellie’s relentless teasing about the amount of luggage Vi brought.

“Do you really need three bags for four days?” Ellie asked, twisting in her seat to poke at Vi’s duffel.

“It’s called being prepared,” Vi shot back, her voice laced with mock superiority. “Not all of us can live out of a backpack, Ellie.”

You rolled your eyes. “Can you two try not to kill each other before we get there?”

When you finally arrived, your mom was waiting at the door, a bright smile on her face. “Y/N! You’re here!”

She enveloped you in a tight hug before turning to Ellie and Vi. “And these must be your friends!”

Vi offered her most charming smile and a handshake. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Y/L/N.”

Ellie, less polished but equally endearing, gave a small wave. “Hi. Thanks for having us.”

Your dad appeared in the doorway, eyeing Ellie’s tattoos and Vi’s undercut with thinly veiled suspicion. “Welcome. Hope you’re ready for some holiday fun.”

You exchanged a nervous glance with your girlfriends before stepping inside, bracing yourself for what was to come.

---

The first night was awkward. Your mom asked endless questions about Ellie and Vi’s “friendship,” while your dad seemed more interested in grilling them about their jobs.

“So, Ellie,” your dad began, his tone overly casual. “What do you do?”

Ellie shifted uncomfortably. “Uh, I’m a musician. I write songs and play guitar.”

Your mom’s smile faltered. “Oh, how… creative.”

“And what about you, Vi?” your dad asked, turning his attention to her.

“I work security,” Vi replied easily. “Helps pay the bills.”

Your dad nodded approvingly. “Good, honest work.”

Ellie rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath, “And music isn’t?”

Later, as you, Ellie, and Vi settled into the basement where you’d been assigned to sleep, the tension finally broke.

“Your dad hates me,” Ellie said, flopping onto the pull-out couch.

“He doesn’t hate you,” you said, sitting beside her.

“He definitely doesn’t love her,” Vi quipped, earning a glare from Ellie.

You sighed, pulling them both close. “Can we just get through this without fighting? Please?”

Ellie’s hand found your waist, her fingers tracing lazy circles. “Fine. But only because you asked so nicely.”

Vi leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “We’ll behave. Promise.”

---

By the third day, the strain of keeping your relationship a secret was starting to show. Ellie was snappier than usual, Vi was restless, and you were constantly on edge.

The breaking point came during a family trivia game on Christmas Eve. Abby, your younger sister and the only one who knew the truth, decided to stir the pot.

“So, Ellie,” she said with a mischievous grin. “How long have you and Vi been dating Y/N?”

Your mom froze mid-sip of her cocoa. Your dad’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

Ellie shot you a panicked look, and Vi sighed, clearly over the charade. “Six months. Give or take.”

“Excuse me?” your mom said, her voice rising an octave.

You stood quickly, holding up your hands. “Okay, yes. I’m dating Ellie and Vi. Both of them. At the same time.”

The silence was deafening. Finally, Abby smirked and said, “Well, this just got interesting.”

---

The fallout wasn’t as bad as you’d feared. After some initial shock and a few tense conversations, your parents began to accept the situation.

“how is that- you know what, I just want you to be happy,” your mom said tearfully, hugging you on Christmas morning.

Ellie and Vi, who’d been lurking in the background, joined you on the couch.

“Next year,” Vi said with a smirk, “we’re spending the holidays at our place.”

Ellie nodded. “With no secrets.”

You smiled, leaning into them both. “Deal.”

As the snow fell softly outside, you knew this would be a Christmas you’d never forget.

---

𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑷𝒀 𝑯𝑶𝑳𝑰𝑫𝑨𝒀𝑺 ❤

[youleftmenochoicebut]

GOLD RUSH — regulus black x reader.

SUMMARY. — your secret relationship with regulus isn’t so secret anymore.

PAIRING. — regulus black x fem!pureblood!reader

WARNINGS. — reader has a 1st year brother; this is shitty;

A/N. — im desperately trying to write something coherent for reggie and it’s not working

“if you stare at that poor girl for a little while longer i’m pretty sure her head’s gonna set on fire.” Barty’s voice is quiet as he leans in closer to your ear, and you tilt up your head at him, quickly hitting his shoulder. you’re standing in front of the potions classroom, and out of your friend group it’s only the two of you - Evan back in his dorm claiming to be sick, Dorcas not every making any excuses as to why she didn’t show up, Pandora being a ravenclaw, and Regulus… well, Regulus.

Regulus is standing in the darkest corner of the hallway, having a conversation with some hufflepuff (a good friend of his who you have known of for a while) who’s batting her eyelashes up at him, and you wonder if he’s truly that oblivious to notice or just chooses to ignore it. either way you shrug, turning to Barty with a grimace on your face that’s supposed to be a smile.

“damn, babe, with that look on your face you might just scare away potential suitors.” he tugs at your braid, swiftly making it fall apart, and your frown deepens.

“not in the mood, Barty.” you roll your eyes with a scoff, leaning back against the wall, looking up at the ceiling. your parents have been bugging you about finding a suitable future husband to marry after you graduate ever since this school year started, and as it all nears spring you’re only growing more restless. of course they don’t know about your relationship with Regulus. sure, they would be over the moon at the news, the younger Black brother being… hot shit amongst the mentally challenged elders, as Evan described it once. which is exactly why you want to keep it under the wraps for as long as you can.

it’s been going pretty well you’d say, both of you not having much problem with acting casual, but lately you’ve been struggling with that. you’re not jealous, Merlin forbid, you’re just… well, maybe you are the tiniest bit jealous. in all honesty, who wouldn’t be? it’s Regulus Black.

you enter the classroom hand in hand with Barty once the clock strikes nine, splitting with him when you make your way to your desk. during this class you actually share your space with Regulus, and so you give him a small smile when he sits down beside you.

the whole day passes in a blur for you, as it usually does, and soon enough you’re in your favorite place of all Hogwarts. you’re sitting on a huge plush couch in the room of requirement, your head resting on your boyfriend’s lap as he runs his slender fingers through your hair. both of you dressed in some comfortable clothes instead of the everyday robes, your wands laying down on the wooden table in front of the sofa.

“i haven’t written back to my mother yet.” you murmur after a moment, eyes set on Regulus’ face, trying to catch every detail of it.

his skin is pale, sheer thin, and if you believed in them you could’ve said he’s a ghost. his lips are always so plump looking, now outstretched in a smile, his gray irises staring right back at you with that loving shimmer to them.

“have Alistair?” he asks, your younger brother’s name leaving his mouth so quiet it’s practically a whisper, and he raises his eyebrows. you shrug, and a moment later you shake your head.

“i’m not sure. i think so.” you reply, internally groaning at the mere thought of your sibling, and you push yourself up on your elbows then fully sit up, reaching out for one of the mugs standing on the coffee table. they’re both filled with hot chocolate, and you take the pink one into your hand, sipping on it slowly. “little bugger is snitching on me, i try to avoid him.”

you watch him chuckle and reach over for his mug, then the two of you lean back against the couch. you can feel yourself sinking into the cushions, and a delighted sigh escapes you, before you catch Regulus’ amused expression and purse your lips together quickly.

“i just can’t wait for all of this to end, so we could move away.” you mumble, setting your cup back down, and he nods. he leans in closer, his hands resting on either sides of your middle, and for a beat he only looks at you. then suddenly his smile widens, and he kisses the top of your nose.

“chocolate on your nose.” he whispers playfully, his lips brushing innocently against your cheek next, then your jawline, your chin, slowly trailing down to set on your neck for a longer while. “just three more months, ma chérie. and we’ll leave it all behind.”

his breath is hot against your skin despite the chilliness of his hands that wrap around your waist, helping you into a laying down position. his caress is gentle, soft, just so so loving.

“a cozy cottage somewhere in a quiet village. maybe wales?” you breathe out, your hands coming up to first rest on his shoulders, but you quickly move them up and tangle them into his dark curls.

“mhm, like we planned.” he nods, making you yelp in surprise as he suddenly sucks on your pulse point, and you swear you can feel him smirk against the column of your throat. “a whole lot of protective spells to keep us safe and hidden from everyone. and then maybe we can focus on what’s good. plant a tree and have a dozen of children.”

“well, i don’t know who’s gonna give you a dozen of children, cause it’s for sure not me.” you scoff, a chuckle escaping your lips as you pull him back from you, and he takes the opportunity to give you a kiss. it quick and sweet, and his hands start to wander under your shirt, ghosting over the outline of your bra teasingly.

you leave the room of requirement in the middle of the night, fingers intertwined, and your guard let down. your clothes are wrinkled up, hair messy and tousled, and there’s already a slight limp to your walk. you’re both sure no one’s going to see you, i mean come on, it’s 2am. but the moment you step a foot outside, and the magic door disappears behind you, you hear a victorious laugh.

your brother is standing right there, just a few strides away from you, grinning from ear to ear. you immediately groan, gaze locking with Regulus’ for a moment before you step forward.

“i swear to Merlin, Alistair, if you tell anyone about this…” you start menacingly, hand clasping on the boy’s shirt collar, but it gives you an opposite result of what you’ve hoped for.

“sod off, Y/N! i’m writing about this to mother right when i get back to my dorm!”

[lila-lou]

✨Taking her in - Pt. 14✨

Summary: After Dean Winchester saves your life, he brings you into the safety of the bunker. As you grow older and stronger, Dean refuses to let you join the hunts, his overprotective behavior intensifying. But beneath his fierce protectiveness lies something darker—conflicted feelings he can’t face. As your 18th birthday approaches, Dean struggles to keep control, torn between his duty to protect you and emotions he’s buried for too long.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: HUGE Age Gap, Immoral, Language, Angst, Fluff

Word Count: 5682

A/N: English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. 💜

As Dean walked toward the kitchen, his bag slung over his shoulder, he found Sam leaning against the counter, sipping from a mug. Cas and Jack were already in the garage, waiting, but Sam hadn’t moved yet. When Sam spotted Dean, he raised an eyebrow, clearly curious about how your conversation—or what he assumed was a conversation—had gone.

“So", Sam asked, his voice casual but laced with curiosity, “how’d she take it?”.

Dean’s expression shifted for a second, his usual cocky smirk slipping into place. He couldn’t help but think back to the moments you had just shared in your room, the intimacy between you, and how you had responded to him. His thoughts briefly wandered to how well you'd "taken it", and he almost chuckled at the double meaning that flashed in his mind.

"She… took it… well", Dean replied, smirking a little as he slung his bag onto the floor, leaning against the counter across from Sam.

Sam raised an eyebrow, noticing the smirk but not quite catching the full implication. "Really? So, no more arguments about the hunt?".

Dean shook his head, still grinning. "Nah, she's good. We worked it out". His tone remained casual, but his mind couldn’t help replaying what had happened between you two. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to stay focused.

Sam gave Dean a knowing look, clearly suspecting there was more going on but not pressing the issue. "Good. I was worried you were gonna keep pushing her away".

Dean exhaled, his smirk softening as he grew more serious. "Yeah, I know. I can't keep treating her like she's fragile. She’s stronger than I give her credit for". He glanced at his brother, and there was a silent understanding between them.

"Glad you finally get that", Sam said with a small smile. "She’s part of the team".

Dean nodded. "Yeah, she is". But even as he said it, his mind still flickered back to the moments in your room. He knew you were more than just a teammate now, but that was a conversation for another time.

"Let’s get going", Dean said, pushing off from the counter and heading toward the garage. "Don’t want Cas and Jack thinking we’re dragging our feet".

Sam followed, and though the conversation had turned back to the hunt, Dean’s thoughts remained on you—on how this hunt was just the start of whatever was coming next for both of you.

A few minutes later, you found yourself in the backseat of the Impala, sandwiched between Cas and Jack. Dean and Sam were up front, with Dean driving, and you could see him glancing in the rearview mirror every so often, checking on you. Each time he looked, a little smile tugged at the corner of his lips, though he tried to hide it.

Jack, sitting to your right, was enthusiastically explaining the different cat breeds to you, his eyes wide with excitement as he described the characteristics of each one. "And did you know that Maine Coons are one of the largest domesticated cats? They can weigh up to 18 pounds!", Jack said, his voice filled with awe as he launched into more fun facts.

Dean, overhearing Jack's passionate explanation, couldn’t suppress the chuckle that escaped him. His eyes flicked back to you, amusement clear on his face. "Jack, I’m not sure she signed up for a full lesson on cat breeds", he said, his voice teasing but warm.

You smiled, half-listening to Jack’s enthusiastic commentary while feeling the steady presence of Cas on your left. Cas, for his part, seemed content to sit quietly, though he nodded along now and then as if he, too, was learning about cats for the first time.

"It's okay", you said with a grin, glancing at Dean through the rearview mirror. "I like learning new things". Your response made Dean’s smirk widen, and he shook his head slightly, his eyes crinkling at the edges in amusement.

Jack beamed at your response, continuing to explain more about cats. “And Siamese cats are really vocal. They’ll follow you around the house, meowing and making all kinds of sounds”.

Dean chuckled again, giving a playful roll of his eyes as he focused back on the road. "Well, I guess Jack’s got the backseat entertainment covered".

Sam, sitting in the passenger seat, glanced back with a small smile. "It's good to know Jack's well-versed in cat trivia. Could come in handy on a hunt, right?".

"Hey, you never know", Dean added, smirking. "Maybe we’ll run into some supernatural feline, and Jack’ll save the day".

Dean had done the impossible—driving the entire way without stopping for the night. The hours had passed with a mix of conversation, laughter, and the occasional silence as the weight of the upcoming hunt settled in. But now, as the Impala pulled into the parking lot of a small, rundown motel in the town where everything had been going crazy, you felt a deep sense of relief wash over you.

As soon as the car came to a stop, you exhaled a long breath, feeling the tension leave your body. You stretched your arms above your head, your muscles tight from sitting in the backseat for so long. Your feet touched solid ground for the first time in hours, and the stretch felt heavenly. You could hear a few satisfying pops in your back as you twisted your torso, working out the stiffness.

“Finally”, you muttered, glancing around the small, dimly lit parking lot. The air was cooler than it had been during the drive, and you inhaled deeply, letting the coolness wake you up.

Dean climbed out of the driver’s seat, stretching his arms above his head with a loud groan. “Man, I love driving, but that was a long haul”, he said, rolling his shoulders. He glanced over at you, a teasing grin on his face. “How you holding up?”.

“Better now that we’re not stuck in that backseat”, you replied, shooting him a playful glare as you reached back to grab your bag from the Impala.

Sam stretched too as he stepped out of the Impala, rolling his shoulders and looking toward the dimly lit motel office. “I’ll go get us checked in”, he said, already heading toward the entrance. “You guys hang tight for a minute.” His tone was all business, but there was a hint of relief on his face too. The long drive had worn on everyone.

As Sam disappeared into the office, Dean gave you a knowing look, his smirk still playing on his lips. “Guess that means we’ve got a few minutes to ourselves”. He grabbed his duffel bag from the trunk, slinging it over his shoulder.

You rolled your eyes at him, but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “A few minutes to stretch, maybe. I can still feel that backseat”.

Dean chuckled. “Hey, could’ve been worse. At least Jack kept things… educational with his cat trivia”.

Speaking of Jack, he and Cas were standing a few feet away. Jack looked curiously around the parking lot, as if every detail of this run-down place fascinated him. Cas stood stoically beside him, his usual expression unreadable, though there was a certain calmness about him.

Jack glanced over at you with a bright smile. “So, what’s the plan after we rest? Do we jump right into the hunt, or gather more information first?”.

Dean shrugged, glancing over his shoulder toward the office, waiting for Sam. “We’ll see what intel Sam’s got lined up. But yeah, we’ll probably get moving fast. This town’s got a lot going on”.

You shivered slightly at the mention of the hunt, but it wasn’t from fear—it was anticipation. There was something exciting about that work, even with the danger that came with it. Still, the motel’s worn-down exterior didn’t exactly inspire comfort. You hoped the beds inside were at least half decent after the long drive.

A few moments later, Sam reappeared from the office, holding two keycards. “Alright, we’re set”, he said, handing one card to Dean. “Two rooms. Cas, Jack, you’re with me”.

You bit your lip, trying to suppress the rush of excitement that fluttered in your chest when Sam handed Dean the key. The knowledge that you and Dean would have a room to yourselves for the night sent your mind racing, especially after everything that had happened between you two lately. Dean caught the shift in your expression, his green eyes glinting with amusement as if he could read your thoughts.

“Something on your mind?”, Dean teased, raising an eyebrow as he swung his duffel bag over his shoulder.

You quickly composed yourself, rolling your eyes playfully to deflect the heat rising to your cheeks. “Just hoping the bed’s not as lumpy as this parking lot looks”, you retorted, but the smile tugging at your lips gave away your true thoughts.

Dean chuckled softly, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Guess we’ll find out soon enough”, he said with a wink before turning to lead the way toward your room.

Cas and Jack nodded their goodnights as they followed Sam toward their room, Jack still peppering Cas with questions about the town and the hunt. You trailed behind Dean, your thoughts bouncing between the anticipation of the hunt tomorrow and the more immediate prospect of having some time alone with him tonight.

Dean unlocked the door and pushed it open. The room was simple—typical motel fare with an old, faded bedspread, a small TV mounted on the wall, and a worn-out chair in the corner. But it was clean enough, and the bed, while not luxurious, looked inviting after hours spent in the Impala.

Dean dropped his bag by the door and surveyed the room with a satisfied nod. “Not bad”, he said. “Could be worse. At least it doesn’t smell like old socks”.

You let out a small laugh, tossing your own bag onto the chair.

Dean stretched his arms over his head again, his muscles flexing beneath his shirt as he let out a groan of relief. His eyes caught yours, and the playful smirk returned to his lips. “So… you still worried about that bed, or you think it’ll do?”.

You shot him a teasing glance, walking past him toward the bed. “Guess we’ll see”, you said, sitting down and testing the mattress with a bounce. “Not bad,” you murmured, your voice laced with suggestion as you met his gaze again.

Dean’s smirk widened as he stepped closer. “Good to know”, he muttered, his voice dropping slightly.

As he approached, you felt your heartbeat quicken, the energy between you two unmistakable. You and Dean had been dancing around this tension for what felt like forever, and now, with no distractions or interruptions, the air was charged with possibility.

Dean stopped just in front of you, his fingers brushing your knee lightly, the contact sending a spark through you. His voice was soft, teasing but with an edge of seriousness. “You good?”, he asked, his eyes searching yours for a moment of reassurance.

You nodded, biting your lip again, this time unable to hide the smile that crept onto your face. “Yeah”, you whispered, your voice breathy with anticipation. “I’m good”.

Dean grinned and, without breaking eye contact, leaned down, capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss.

Eventually, Dean pulled back from the kiss, the warmth of his lips leaving you longing for more. You could feel the charge between you, but instead of deepening the moment, he exhaled and let himself sink down beside you on the bed. He stretched out, his hand running over his face as he let out a tired groan. You watched him in silence for a moment, feeling a flicker of disappointment.

He hadn’t even undressed, still fully in his jeans and boots, and you knew why. Dean was always on edge during hunts, constantly prepared for whatever might come his way. He wouldn’t let his guard down, not even for a night in a safe motel room.

You sat there for a moment, glancing at him, a slight frown tugging at the corners of your mouth. He must have sensed your gaze because, without moving much, he cracked one eye open and smirked.

“Sweetheart”, Dean muttered, his voice soft and amused but laced with exhaustion. “I just drove about 11 hours straight to get us to this shithole. My back hurts, and I’m tired as hell. I’m not twenty anymore”.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, knowing he was right. His words were playful, but you could see the fatigue etched into his features. The trip had worn him down, and as much as he’d probably like to indulge you, he just didn’t have it in him tonight.

“Yeah, yeah”, you said, teasing but with a fond smile. “I guess you’re not as invincible as you think”.

Dean’s smirk widened just a bit, and he closed his eyes again, relaxing into the mattress. “Never said I was”, he mumbled. “But trust me, there’ll be time for… other things later”.

His promise hung in the air, and despite the weariness in his voice, it sent a shiver down your spine. You smiled to yourself, the tension easing as you lay back beside him. Even if tonight wasn’t what you had hoped, there was still a sense of comfort in just being near him.

Dean shifted slightly, draping his arm lazily over your waist, his thumb tracing small circles on your hip. "Get some rest, okay? Tomorrow's gonna be a hell of a day", he murmured, his voice already fading as sleep started to claim him.

You nodded, settling more into the bed beside him. You lay there for a while, listening to Dean’s breathing grow steady and slow as he drifted off to sleep. The room was quiet, save for the occasional hum of cars passing by outside and the rustle of fabric as you adjusted under the covers. The soft weight of Dean’s arm around your waist grounded you, a reminder of the closeness you shared, even in the stillness of the moment.

Despite the long drive, your mind was still buzzing, replaying the events of the past few days. Between the tension of the hunt and the growing connection between you and Dean, it was hard to quiet your thoughts. You glanced over at him, his face now relaxed and peaceful in sleep. The hard lines of his worry had softened, and for a moment, he looked younger—like the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders, if only for a few hours.

You smiled to yourself, feeling a sense of warmth and security just being beside him. Even though he was tired, his presence was always steady.

Eventually, the weariness from the long drive began to settle into your bones, and you let out a quiet sigh, finally allowing yourself to relax. You shifted slightly to get more comfortable, careful not to wake Dean, and closed your eyes.

The night passed in a blur of soft dreams and the comforting heat of Dean’s body next to yours. When you woke up, the faint light of dawn was just starting to creep through the thin curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room.

Dean was still asleep, his arm still resting around you, though a bit looser now. You stayed still for a moment, not wanting to disturb him, but eventually, the call of the day ahead began to pull you from the comfort of the bed.

Carefully, you slipped out from under Dean’s arm, his body shifting slightly but not waking. You grabbed some clothes from your bag and quietly headed toward the bathroom to freshen up. The cool water on your face helped clear the last remnants of sleep, and as you looked at yourself in the mirror, you felt a sense of resolve wash over you. The hunt ahead would be tough.

When you stepped back into the room, Dean was awake, sitting up in bed and rubbing his eyes. He gave you a groggy smile, his voice still thick with sleep as he muttered, “Mornin’, sunshine”.

You chuckled softly, walking over to the bed. “Morning. How’d you sleep?”.

Dean stretched, wincing slightly as his back cracked. “Like a rock. But man, I’m getting too old for these all-nighters”, he joked, though there was truth behind his words.

Dean’s smile faltered ever so slightly as he took in your appearance, his eyes tracing your features with a tenderness he rarely showed so openly. Your skin was glowing in the soft morning light, flawless and fresh without the need for makeup. Your hair, long and healthy, framed your face perfectly, and your lips, still slightly curved in a smile, were full and rosy. Even your voice, clear and steady so early in the morning, held a vibrancy that made you seem effortlessly full of life.

You didn’t even need coffee to function at this hour, the energy still buzzing inside. It was a quiet contrast to his own grogginess and the dull ache in his back that reminded him he´s getting old.

He could feel the shift in his mood, the weight of the years between you suddenly pressing on him.

The aches in his body that never quite went away, the lines etched into his face from years of battles fought and lost, and the exhaustion that came with a life lived in the shadows—they were all things he had learned to live with. But now, as he looked at you, glowing with energy and youth, that weight felt heavier than usual.

He couldn’t help but wonder what you saw in him. What could a woman like you—so full of life, with a future ahead of you—possibly want with someone like him, who’d already seen and lived more than most should in a lifetime? He wanted to push those thoughts away, but they gnawed at him, making his chest feel tight.

Dean’s smile faded slightly, though he tried to keep up the usual bravado. He leaned back against the headboard, running a hand through his tousled hair. His eyes, usually so full of mischief and confidence, were clouded with something else now—doubt, insecurity.

You, however, could sense something was off. Dean, always the one to hide his emotions behind jokes and smiles, wasn’t fooling you this time. The silence between you lingered just a little too long, and when you glanced at him again, you noticed the faraway look in his eyes.

“Dean?”, you asked softly, moving a little closer to him on the bed. “What’s going on?”.

Dean glanced at you, startled out of his thoughts, but he quickly masked it with a small, forced grin. “Nothin’, sweetheart. Just thinkin’”, he muttered, though the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

You frowned, reaching out to place a hand on his arm. “Come on, talk to me. What’s bothering you?”.

For a moment, he was quiet, as if weighing whether or not to share what was really on his mind. Finally, with a sigh, he spoke, his voice softer than usual, lacking its usual bravado.

“It’s just… look at you”, he said, his eyes searching yours. “You’re young, full of energy. You wake up like the world hasn’t knocked you down a dozen times. And me? I’m… I’m just tired. I feel like I’ve been through the wringer more times than I can count, and I’m starting to wonder what the hell you see in that”.

His words hung in the air, raw and vulnerable in a way Dean rarely allowed himself to be. He looked away again, not wanting to meet your eyes, as if expecting you to suddenly realize he was right.

Your heart clenched at hearing the doubt in his voice. You had always known Dean was hard on himself, that he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, but hearing him express this kind of insecurity—especially about something as fundamental as your relationship—was new. And it hurt to think he didn’t see what you saw in him.

Without saying a word, you moved with a quiet determination. Gently, you pushed the blanket away from him and shifted to straddle his lap. Dean blinked, surprised by your sudden movement, but he didn’t protest. His hands instinctively rested on your hips as you settled onto him, but there was a hesitance in his touch, the vulnerability from his earlier words still lingering in the air.

You cupped his face in both of your hands, forcing him to look at you. His green eyes, usually so confident and steady, were searching yours for answers, for reassurance. You could see the doubt, the years of wear and tear etched into his soul, weighing him down more than any physical scars ever could.

For a moment, you didn’t speak. You simply held his face, your thumbs gently brushing along his stubbled jawline, grounding him in the present, in this moment. His hands tightened slightly on your hips, as if the warmth of your touch was the only thing anchoring him.

“Dean”, you whispered, your voice soft but filled with emotion. “You have no idea how much you mean to me, do you?”.

He opened his mouth to respond, but the words didn’t come. He wasn’t used to hearing this—wasn’t used to being the one who was taken care of, who was reassured. He’d spent so long being the protector, the one holding everything together, that he didn’t know how to let someone else carry the weight for him, even for a moment.

“You’re not just tired”, you continued, leaning in closer so that your foreheads were nearly touching. “You’ve been carrying the world on your shoulders for so long, and I know that. I see it. But you’re not alone anymore. You don’t have to do it all by yourself”.

Dean’s breath hitched, his eyes closing for a brief second as if your words were too much, too heavy for him to bear. He’d never been good at letting people in, at accepting help or love without feeling like it was temporary, like it could slip away at any moment.

“I’m here because I want to be”, you said, your voice steady and sure. “Not because I’m young or full of energy or any of that. I’m here because of who you are, Dean. You’ve been through hell, and you’re still standing. You’re strong, you’re caring, and you make me feel safe in a way no one else ever has. That’s what I see in you”.

His hands gripped your hips tighter, almost as if he was afraid to let go, afraid that you’d slip away if he didn’t hold on.

You held Dean’s face firmly between your hands, your voice soft but steady as you continued. “You are the most selfless and loving human being I’ve ever met, Dean. You’ve spent your entire life putting everyone else first, making sure the people you care about are safe—even when it meant sacrificing your own happiness, your own peace”.

His gaze remained locked on yours, but there was a vulnerability in his eyes now, a rawness that made your heart ache. He wasn’t used to hearing this. He wasn’t used to being seen in this light. For so long, Dean had carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, pushing his own needs aside for the sake of others. And now, it was clear he wasn’t sure how to accept the love and reassurance you were offering him.

You leaned in closer, pressing your forehead to his, your breaths mingling as you spoke softly. “You’re too hard on yourself, Dean. You always have been. You see the mistakes, the things you think you’ve done wrong, and you let them weigh you down. But that’s not what defines you”.

Dean’s jaw clenched, and you could see the battle going on inside him—the part of him that wanted to believe you, to let go of the self-doubt, and the part that had been conditioned to think he wasn’t enough.

“You’re more than the things you’ve done”, you whispered, your thumbs brushing along his jawline again, grounding him in the moment. “You’ve saved so many people, Dean. You’ve saved me. And you do it because you care. Because you love”.

His breath hitched again, and his eyes glistened slightly as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. Dean Winchester didn’t cry—he kept it all inside, locked up tight, where no one could see. But here, in this moment, you saw him. The real him. The man who had been through hell and back, but who still had so much love to give.

You took a deep breath, your thumbs still gently tracing the stubble along Dean’s jawline as you spoke again, your voice steady but filled with emotion. “Dean, I need you to stop focusing on that stupid age difference. That’s not what matters—not to me, not to anyone who knows you. There’s so much more that connects us, so much more between us that goes beyond something as simple as numbers”.

He swallowed hard, the vulnerability still palpable, but there was something else too—an understanding, a slow acceptance that maybe, just maybe, you were right.

“I know it’s hard”, you continued, your forehead still pressed lightly against his. “I know you’ve carried these doubts for a long time. But you’ve got to let them go. You’re not just some older guy, and I’m not just some young woman with her life ahead of her. We’re more than that. We’re more because we understand each other in a way most people never will”.

Dean closed his eyes briefly, his chest rising and falling with a heavy breath. He had never been one to easily let go of his doubts, of the fears that lingered deep inside him. But here, in this moment, with you sitting on his lap, your hands cupping his face and your words cutting through his defenses, he felt something shift.

“You make me feel… things I didn’t think I could feel anymore”, he admitted, his voice low and rough, as if the words were coming from a place deep inside him that he had long buried. “And that scares the hell outta me. Because you deserve… someone who can keep up with you".

“Dean, you are enough. Stop thinking like that. You don’t have to keep up with me—I’m not asking you to. We’re in this together, and I need you to see that. You’re exactly who I want, all of you”.

Years of self-doubt and carrying the weight of others had built walls around his heart, walls that were hard to tear down. He’d spent so long believing he wasn’t worthy of real happiness, of love, that it seemed almost impossible for him to truly accept it now.

“You don’t get it”, he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve screwed up so many times, made so many mistakes. I’m not the guy who’s supposed to get the happy ending”.

You shook your head, refusing to let him retreat into those old doubts. “Everyone makes mistakes, Dean. You’ve been through more than anyone should have to go through, but that doesn’t define you. What defines you is how you keep fighting, how you keep protecting the people you love, no matter what. You’ve done that for everyone—especially for me”.

Dean swallowed hard, his grip on your hips tightening as if he was trying to hold on to the truth in your words. He didn’t speak, but the way he looked at you, with so much emotion, so much uncertainty, told you that he was listening.

“Let go of the idea that you don’t deserve this”, you urged, your voice gentle but filled with conviction. “You deserve happiness, Dean. You deserve love. And I’m here, right here, because I want to be. Not because you’re perfect or because you think you have to be something you’re not, but because I love you—exactly the way you are”.

Dean let out a shaky breath, his eyes closing for a moment as if he was trying to let your words sink in, trying to believe them. When he opened his eyes again, there was a flicker of something different—hope, maybe. Or at least the beginnings of it.

“I’m not used to this”, he muttered, his voice rough but honest. “I’m not used to… having someone like you. Someone who sees past all the crap and still—”. He stopped, as if he couldn’t quite bring himself to finish the sentence.

“Still loves you?”, you offered softly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Because I do, Dean. I love you, and nothing you say is going to change that”.

Dean's breath hitched again, and for a moment, he just stared at you, his eyes wide with a mixture of surprise and disbelief. The weight of your words hung between you, thick and heavy with emotion, and you could see how deeply they were affecting him.

Before you could say anything else, Dean moved. His hands, which had been resting on your hips, slid up your back, pulling you close in one swift, almost desperate motion. The intensity in his eyes softened, and before you knew it, his lips were on yours.

The kiss was tender at first, almost hesitant, as if he was still testing the waters of allowing himself to be vulnerable with you. But it deepened quickly, the weight of everything unsaid and everything felt pouring into that moment. His lips moved against yours with a passion that was both gentle and overwhelming, his arms tightening around you as if he was afraid to let go.

You responded in kind, your fingers sliding into his hair as you kissed him back, the closeness between you feeling like the most natural thing in the world. There was no hesitation, no doubt in your mind—this was where you belonged, with him, no matter the struggles or the past.

Dean broke the kiss briefly, resting his forehead against yours, his breath ragged. "You don't know what you do to me", he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I don't deserve this—don't deserve you—but damn, I want it".

You smiled softly, your hand cupping his cheek as you looked into his eyes. "You deserve all of it, Dean. And I’m not going anywhere".

For the first time in a long time, Dean allowed himself to believe it—to believe that maybe, just maybe, he could have this. That he could be happy.

And with that thought, he kissed you again, his lips claiming yours with a new sense of purpose, as if he was finally letting himself fully feel what he had been holding back for so long. The kiss was filled with all the things he couldn't say out loud—the love, the fear, the hope—and you felt every bit of it in the way he held you close, the way he let his guard down just for you.

The kiss deepened, the weight of Dean’s arms around you grounding you completely. You felt safe, cherished, and for a moment, it was like the rest of the world didn’t exist. It was just the two of you, caught in this perfect, intimate bubble.

But the moment was short-lived.

A sharp knock at the door jolted you both out of your reverie, the sound cutting through the quiet like a knife. “Hey!”, Sam’s voice called from the other side, his tone firm but impatient. “If you guys want to eat before the mess starts, you’d better hurry up. Jack’s already poking at the waffles”.

Dean let out a frustrated groan, his forehead dropping against yours as he muttered, “Of course”. His voice was filled with both exasperation and amusement, but there was a flicker of reluctance in his eyes as he slowly pulled back from you.

You chuckled softly, brushing a hand over his stubbled jaw. “Duty calls”, you teased, though your voice carried a hint of regret.

Dean sighed, sitting back and running a hand through his hair as he glanced toward the door. “Yeah, yeah. Guess breakfast waits for no one—not even us”.

You slipped off his lap reluctantly, straightening your shirt as you turned toward your bag to grab your boots. Dean watched you for a moment, the warmth in his gaze lingering as if he wasn’t quite ready to let the moment go.

Sam knocked again, this time louder. “Seriously, you guys, let’s move! This case isn’t going to wait forever”.

Dean rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath as he stood and grabbed his jacket. “I swear, Sam’s got the timing of a damn drill sergeant”.

You laughed as you laced up your boots, glancing at him over your shoulder. “At least he’s consistent”.

———————————

A/N: Sorry for the short chapter, but I'm a bit stressed out about Christmas and I'm glad I was able to update something at all. I hope you like it anyway. <3

Please let me know what you think.🥰 

-

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[spotsandsocks]

What's My Flavour ? 8K

Buck settles down in LA and opens a juice bar across the street from a well established coffee shop called Diaz Brews. The owner is not particularly impressed by either his new neighbor or juice in general.

Juice puns, grumpy Eddie and the inevitable happen.

Buck watches his sister spin in a circle, her brown eyes wide as she takes in the four walls of the shop he’s just bought.

Turning back to face him the smile on her face ignites one on his own and Buck recognises the warm feeling in his chest as love and pride. Maddie closes the distance between them until she’s snug in his arms, her own arms wrapped tightly around his waist and squeezing. Resting his chin on her head he lets his gaze drift. It’s taken a while to find the right place for them but  he has a good feeling about this. It’s the right choice for him, for them. 

“I’m really excited about this, Maddie.” He feels her chuckle against his chest then she leans away to look up at him. 

“Me too Evan. It’s going to be perfect.”

Buck detangles himself from his sister and bounces off to one side of the room. 

“I thought counter here.” His arms gesture wildly then he spins pointing at the wall, “menus up there.” He circles her beaming, “tables and seats this way. Some fridges for the ready made juices once we know what’s gonna be most popular and here.” He stops by a different wall and circles his hands over the floor.

“I thought we could have a kids area, do it up for drawings and maybe do story time sometimes so the parents can relax and stuff.

He blushes at Maddie’s soft smile, “What? You know I love kids.”

She crosses to him and hugs him again. “I know you do and you're just a big kid yourself.” 

She laughs at his put upon sigh, “Come on Mads I’m a responsible business owner now.”

She laughs again and it’s so good to see her happy. He really thinks it’s the best decision they’ve made in the last three years of traveling to come to LA and open a juice bar together. He knows Maddie wants to settle down and he wants whatever makes her happy. He really thinks this could be it. 

A week later the renovations are well under way the juice bar that’s going to be his future taking shape. It’s exciting the only thing he still needs to decide on is a name, he’s been throwing ideas out at Maddie working on his juice puns with variable success.

Right now they’re taking a break, grabbing a coffee from a shop opposite them, he’s brought a list of ideas that he’s been working on because Maddie had discarded his most recent idea ‘Juice do it’ yesterday.

They sit at the table and he flips open his pad. “Sooooo.” 

His sister groans, “Buck, I’m not sure I’m strong enough for more juice puns today. Maybe you should try and think of something different. Maybe just Buckley Juices.”

“Seriously Mads that’s so boring who names their business after themselves, someone with no imagination that’s who. Dull people Maddie. Dull boring people do that and I am not dull!” 

At just that moment their coffees are delivered to their table and his is placed down rather firmly, liquid sloshing up the sides  but not actually spilling over. 

Buck looks up to say thank you to their server despite the clumsy delivery  and finds himself staring into a pair of brown eyes. The guy would be handsome if he wasn’t frowning down at him. Buck's smile drops away. Not particularly friendly service here, he probably won’t come back in a hurry. Coffee’s bad for you anyway, he’s been planning on cutting down. The server turns and leaves without a word. He pushes the handsome stranger from his mind and refocuses.

“How about “The Main Squeeze? Squeeze The Day?” 

He looks at his notes.  “or Perfect- Juice the way you are.” 

keep reading

[mindmelter]

Hollow Justice

It all started when I was passing by a group of logistic workers during my lunch break from the office. They were loud, obnoxious, and unfortunately, also ridiculously hot.

Our office received a new shipment of supplies that day, so the logistics team was busy unloading the deliveries into the warehouse.

One of them—a tall, Brazilian, bearded guy in a reflective vest—caught my eye immediately. But then I heard them mocking a young, shy, office guy who had just walked past. Their words hit like knives, and the shy guy’s face turned red as he quickened his pace.

I knew him from work. We never spoke to each other because we were from different departments, but he seemed like a nice guy.

"Look at that white collar faggot, even his walk is gay" The bearded logistic worker mocked while loading a heavy box into the cart.

"I think he was looking at your ass dude!" His coworker laughed.

"I will teach him to keep his eyes to himself next time!"

Something in me snapped. I wasn’t just going to let that slide. So, I followed the shy guy and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Hey,” I said, trying to sound casual but flirty. “I think you’re cute. Can I get your number?”

He blinked at me, wide-eyed, as if I’d just asked him to marry me. “Me?” he asked, almost like he didn’t believe it.

“Yes, you,” I said, smiling. He hesitated, but after a second, he pulled out his phone and we shared numbers. He looked so surprised like no one had ever hit on him before, and honestly, that just made me angrier at those jerks.

Number secured, I turned on my heels and went back to the group of homophobic workers. They were still laughing, still making my blood boil. I focused on the Brazilian guy—he was the worst of the bunch. Lucky for me, he broke off from the group and headed into the bathroom. Perfect.

I followed him in, keeping quiet as he used the urinals. Once the coast was clear, I made my move. From my pocket, I pulled out a syringe filled with my special bodysuit serum. As he turned to wash his hands, I jabbed it right into his neck. He gasped, and his body started to convulse as the serum took effect. Within seconds, he was deflating on the floor, his muscles, skin, and bones disintegrating away until all that was left was an empty husk—that handsome and tall blue collar worker turned into nothing more than a hollow bodysuit.

I dragged the limp bodysuit into the stall and took a moment to admire it. I lifted his head by the hair. His head was stretched down by the weight of his beard, making him slack-jawed, and his eyes were now just empty holes.

"Not so smug now, are you? I will show you who is a faggot," I mocked him.

I stepped into the suit, feeling his skin stretch and seal around me like a suit. Within seconds, I was him. His voice, his scent, his muscles—they were all mine.

I pulled out my phone, snapped a quick mirror selfie, and sent it to the shy guy's number with a message: *“I’m sorry for being such a prick to you earlier. I only act like that in front of my friends because I’m a closeted gay guy. Can't let them know I'm just a cock hungry whore. Please come and meet me in the bathroom. I will let you fuck my ass as an apology.”*

Then, I waited. As I waited sitting in the toilet, I played with my new thick, hard, brown cock. I would stroke it, and sometimes slap it, watching it bounce. I wondered about how many times he used it to fuck women, probably a lot... I then grabbed his ID badge that was on his neck.

Name: Thiago Henrique da Silva / Date of Birth: March 15, 1998 / Age: 26 / License Class: Class A (Allows him to operate heavy machinery)

I chuckled and then went back to play with Thiago's thick cock. After half an hour, I was starting to wonder if the guy would really show up when I heard the bathroom door creak open. I peeked through the stall door and saw him—nervous but intrigued. I opened the door and called him in.

He hesitated for a second, but the bulge in his pants said everything I needed to know. He slowly stepped in and locked the door. I could tell he was still not sure if the logistic worker was serious or if he was just about to prank him. I needed to show him that there was nothing for him to worry about.

So I kneeled in front of him and pulled down his pants. His hard throbbing cock sprang free and I wrapped the shaft with the worker's big calloused hand. I slapped his cock against Thiago's handsome face and winked at him in a flirty way. His face was priceless, he was shocked that a hot manly stud like Thiago was acting like a slut. I soon wrapped my new thick lips around his shaft and gave him a blowjob that would make him remember it for the rest of his life.

I suddenly felt his hands around my head and he started to facefuck me roughly, so rough that the mask started to slip off. Thiago's face became misplaced over my real face. It was a sight that would make the gay office worker run away and have nightmares forever.

Luckily, he had his eyes closed at the time, so I quickly fixed the bodysuit's mask, placing it where it should be.

After blowing him for some time, I stood up and pulled down my uniform pants, offering him Thiago's tight ass to fuck. It wasn't my first time being fucked, but the man I was wearing was still a virgin, so the office guy had to take some time to loosen the bodysuit's asshole. Once he was sure it was loose enough, he fucked Thiago like he was his personal bitch.

The boy might not be the best looking, but he sure knew how to fuck.

And me? I moaned, grunted, and played the part of the closeted homophobic blue-collar worker who couldn’t get enough of cock. When it was over and he finished inside me, he straightened his clothes, kissed me, and whispered, “That was amazing. I forgive you,” Then, he left, looking happier than ever.

As for the bodysuit, I didn’t need it anymore. I pulled it off and threw it into the toilet. I then grabbed a new syringe, injected the bodysuit with it, and watched as what was left of Thiago dissolved into black goo. I flushed the goo down the toilet and threw his uniform in the trash bin, but kept his ID badge for some reason...

I washed my hands and walked out of the bathroom with a smirk on my face, just as my lunch break was ending—justice had been served on my plate.

[little-wicked10]

buy me presents🎁

Summary: Soldier Boy can’t help his obsession with his little Beverly Hills beauty and spoils her for Christmas.

Warnings: Smut 18+, cursing, dirty talk, unprotected sex, daddy kink, sugar daddy vibes, possessive behavior, subspace, degrading, praise kink, creampie, and lots of other goodies🔞☃️

Notes: OBVIOUSLY inspired by “buy me presents” by Sabrina Carpenter. I went REALLY feral with this one🤭 Merry Christmas @jays-bonnie-on-the-side 🎄

//

“I sure wish you were coming here for Christmas, daddy,” she purred into the phone, twirling the cord around her manicured finger.

Ben groaned on the other end of the line, “Gonna get me hard on set, doll. Don’t be naughty. You know I got a shit ton of PR bullshit to do ‘round here.”

“I’m starting to think you don’t wanna buy me any presents,” she pouted her red lips.

His chuckle in her ear sent tingles across her skin, “I’m startin’ to think all you want is my black card.”

“That’s not true!” she playfully whined, “I want your dick too.”

Ben smirked, “I know you do, baby. Daddy’s been dyin’ without that sweet lil’ pussy on his dick, his mouth, his fingers.”

He was trying to tease her, but his plan backfired when he felt his dick strain in his pants. The little pathetic whimper he heard made it twitch. “Shit, you better not be playin’ with yourself!” he growled.

“N-No, I’m not, daddy. But, you’re being so mean and unfair,” she whined.

“I know, honey, I’m just a bastard, aren’t I?” his cocky tone made her groan in annoyance, “Keep bein’ nice, and Santa is gonna spoil the shit out of his Vixen.”

She moaned and rubbed her thighs together at the playful name. Damn Vought for making him work. Damn the modeling agency for making her work. She’d give anything to skip her latest photoshoots to be back in the arms of her Supe lover. It’s been weeks since the last time she was wrapped around him, and the ache was starting to get unbearable. Chills trickled down her spine remembering the way he slammed the head board of his Alaskan King bed into the plaster as he felt her creaming all over his pistoning cock. By the time she had to leave for Beverly Hills, the whole damn tower knew her name.

As the memories swirled in her lust riddled eyes, a whimper slipped from her painted lips. Ben’s deep groan pulled her from her thoughts. “Whatcha thinkin’ about, baby? Thinkin’ about how daddy had your naked body pressed against the cold glass of his penthouse last time you were here? ‘Cause I think about that all the time. How hard your nipples got, how our body heat fogged up the glass, how you soaked the carpet underneath us by the time I was done with ya,” he grabbed his bulge, “Bet those assholes in make up had a hell of a time coverin’ up all those hickeys.”

She clutched the phone tighter in her hand, panting and moaning into the receiver. He didn’t play fair. She wasn’t allowed to touch herself unless he said so, and he rarely said so. Soldier Boy was a glutton for her suffering and neediness, for those desperate pleas for sweet release. She only disobeyed him once, concluding he couldn’t possibly tell the difference, but he certainly did. The punishment was fucking herself on him while he didn’t do shit, simply sitting back and smoking a joint while she weakly tried to get off without his help. Absolute torture.

“Please, let me touch myself, daddy,” she whined pathetically, “Could be an early Christmas present.”

His laugh made a pit of disappointment settle in her stomach, “Nuh uh, sugar tits. You can wait till I get there next week.” Suddenly, there was the sound of voices in the background. The supe barked at them to fuck off he’d be there in a minute. “I gotta go, honey.”

She pouted, “Fine.”

“Be good, Vixen,” he chuckled, “Santa’s coming to town real soon.”

They were having way too much fun with the Christmas themed teasing.

//

It was around 10 o’clock the next night when a knock echoed through her empty home. She’d fallen asleep draped across the couch waiting on their nightly call. She yawned as she sat up and rubbed her eyes. Adjusting her silk robe, she slipped off the couch and padded towards the door. She wondered who could possibly be knocking this late as she slipped down the main hallway. A familiar figure came into view, identity hidden by the frosty privacy glass around the door. She didn’t need to see his face to know who was standing on her front porch. A delighted squeal left her lips as she rushed towards the door and flung it open.

“Ho, Ho, Ho,” Ben smirked.

“You better not have any other ho’s,” she playfully scolded, “What are you doing here? I thought you had PR with Vought.”

“Yeah, I told those fuckers to gargle my ballsack I gotta see my lady,” he smiled.

Removing the duffel from his shoulder, he swept her into his arms and walked into her home. The metal buckles of his suit were cold through the thin silk of her robe and pajamas. Lipstick marked his skin with every kiss she bestowed upon his handsome face. “Save some of those kisses for later, honey. You know how much I love lipstick on my cock,” he growled into her ear.

“Depends on what Santa got me before I decide if I’m feelin’ generous,” she teased.

“Well then let’s get to openin’,” he smiled as he carried her into the beautifully decorated living room.

Once he set her down, she bounced onto the couch, sitting on her knees patiently. Ben sat next to her with a huff and swiftly unzipped the black bag. She giggled excitedly as he began pulling out the most gorgeously wrapped gifts and set them on the coffee table. The paper was a shiny baby pink wrapped with a velvet hot pink ribbon. Once all the presents were spread out for her to pick apart, the supe propped a foot up and lit a cigar. She took a moment to admire the handy work of some poor intern at Vought Ben had most likely intimidated into doing it. Soldier Boy didn’t wrap gifts.

He watched with an amused grin as his spoiled lover suddenly perched herself on his knee and opened every expensive gift he’d picked out: beautiful jewels from Cartier and Tiffany (he couldn’t decide which was better so he went with both), designer clothes and shoes from her favorite name brands, lingerie, and even a sable fur coat.

“Ben! Oh my god, baby! Is this real?!?” she gasped as she held the fur to her chest.

“Of course it’s real. Only the best for you,” he smirked as smoke curled from his perfect lips.

She wrapped her arms around his strong neck and passionately kissed his lips, tasting his cigar. A large hand held her waist as he slipped his tongue against hers. She was quick to face him and straddle his lap properly, “I’m feelin’ very grateful, Santa. I must have been an awful good girl to get all these presents.”

Ben squeezed the plush of her ass, “It’s the naughty things that got you on my nice list, Vixen. And, Santa’s got one more for ya.”

“Oh I can feel it,” she ground her hips down into his.

He clenched his teeth and groaned, “Not that. That’s in a minute.”

Ben picked her up and placed her on the couch, setting his cigar in an ashtray. Kneeling down before her, he took her right leg in his grasp, resting her foot against his shoulder. She leaned back and shivered as his soft lips and rough beard tickled her ankle. They dragged up towards her calf, smirking into her skin when he heard her quiet moan. His free hand reached into his pocket to pull out a small silver chain with a charm dangling from it. The metal was warm as he wrapped it around her slender ankle. Once it was clasped and freely hanging, Ben sat back to let her look at it.

“An anklet?” she asked curiously.

“Mmhm. Look at the charm,” he encouraged.

She removed her foot from his shoulder and tucked her leg against her body, looking down to admire the charm. It was an exact replica of the metal eagle patches on the upper arms of his suit. Her fingers felt engravings on the back. Flipping it around, she read the words, ‘Property of Soldier Boy.’

“I would have paid for a tattoo, but I know that’s not your style. This is muuuuch sexier,” he brought her ankle back to his chest, admiring the silver gleaming in the dim light, “Had it made special for ya. Something pretty to dangle in your face when I’ve got ya bent in half.”

“Isn’t that what your face is for?” she teased as she push her foot against his chest.

With a deep chuckle, he caught her behind both knees and yanked her legs open, pulling her to the edge of the couch, “It’s also a little reminder of who owns this ass.”

She wrapped her legs around his waist, “Make sure no body touches what’s yours, daddy?”

“Oh nobody would ever dare come near ya. If not from my lil’ reminder, then your expensive taste would bleed’em dry,” he leaned forward and kissed her neck.

She thread her fingers through his soft hair, “Your fault for spoiling me so much. Ruined me for any other man with that black card and thick dick.”

“Damn fuckin’ straight, honey,” he bit down hard where her neck and shoulder met, “Ya gonna let me unwrap my present now? Drink you like a warm glass of milk? Santa’s pretty thirsty.”

She nodded with a sweet sigh as his hands began to roam her body with determination. A moan slipped from her throat when he sucked on her jawline below her ear. Small hands slipped down his body and expertly began to unbuckle his suit. Ben let go of her long enough to slip it off. Her flimsy robe went next as his hands greedily shoved up under her tank top, groping her breasts in his large hands. She whimpered as he bit her lip and pinched her nipples.

“Fuck me, I missed these tits so much,” he groaned. She moaned into his mouth and ground her hips into his abdomen. The warmth from her pussy radiated through her flimsy shorts and into his skin. Every pass of her hips made her wetter, soaking through the silk. “C’mere,” Ben yanked her closer to wrap her legs around his waist and stood up.

It was a quick sprint up the stairs before entering her bedroom. He tossed her to the mattress, and she bounced, tits jiggling beautifully. “Naked. Now,” the order was gruff as he began unbuckling his belt. The green of his eyes turned dark watching her slip out of the cute little sleeping set. Only thing left on her body was a silver anklet and a sultry smile. She maneuvered herself on the bed to lay on her stomach, face inches from his hips. Ben’s gaze never left hers as he tossed his boots and pants aside.

He had a cocky swagger as his hard dick bobbed with every step. Her mouth watered, and she licked her lips at the sight. A deep chuckle reverberated from his chest, running his fingers through her hair before taking a handful, “I know that look, doll.” She bit her lip and stared up at him through her lashes, her crossed ankles swaying in the air. She leant forward and placed a bright red kiss mark at the base of his cock. He shuddered at the feel of her soft lips and warm breath.

Just as he asked, she decorated his cock in her lipstick. First, leaving kiss marks all the way up to his head. They all began to smear once she took him into her mouth, bobbing up and down until she was ready to take more. The hand tangled in her hair started guiding her as his hips started fucking into her mouth. Tears burned in her eyes, mascara beginning to run, but she kept going. He was taking it easy on her considering how long it had been since the last time they’d fucked.

“That’s my girl. You remember how to do this. Relax your throat a lil’ more for daddy,” Ben growled, “J-Just like that. Fuck, you’re such a good girl!”

She moaned around his length.

“Gonna cum down that pretty throat, honey,” he growled, “Swallow it. Fuckin’ swallow it!”

Her throat constricted around his girth as he came. He slowly began to pull his cock out, still throbbing and squirting into her mouth. He smeared the head of his dick against her tongue. She held her tongue out to show the last of his essence before swallowing. Ben kneeled with a sly grin and wiped her tears with his thumb, “That’s my good lil’ slut.” Her eyes were glazed over and her lips wet as she nuzzled into his hand. He suddenly picked her up and laid her against the plush pillows.

He caught her shamelessly watching his muscles stretch and flex as he laid on his stomach, throwing her legs over his broad shoulders. The tinkling of the anklet made a feral feeling settle in his body. “Your turn,” he grinned.

“Oh daddy!” she cried as his mouth enveloped her pussy.

The way he swirled his tongue around her clit then dip into her entrance made her begin to pant. Tiny, pathetic whimpers escaped her lips as she tried to roll her hips against him. The scratch of his beard her favorite sensation when he went down on her. Ben moaned and shook his head side to side, letting his tongue and facial hair rub against her sensitive folds. “I fucking love your beard, daddy! I want beard burn on my pussy!” she cried. His chuckle vibrated against her. He loved the sound of her desperate babbling.

Her small hands grasped at his hair frantically when he stuck his tongue inside her and ran his thumb over her clit. The calluses on his fingers added to the sparks tingling her nerve endings. She suddenly arched her back to rub her pussy against his face more. Two thick fingers replaced his tongue, and he sucked her clit into his mouth. Hooking his fingers, he assaulted that sensitive little spot inside her.

She nearly screamed as the damn burst, and she gushed all over his face and hand. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! YES, DADDY!” she screamed.

Ben’s groan vibrated through her and helped in adding to her pleasure. Her body trembled and spasmed as the waves crashed over her. Her first orgasm quickly bled into another as he kept up the pace. He only stopped when she began to push his head away and whine. “T-Too much, daddy! Need your cock! Now! P-Please!” she hiccuped.

His hot breath panted against her abused center. Their eyes met, and he could swear he saw cute little pink hearts in her blown pupils. Sitting up on his knees, Ben wiped his beard before pulling her hips to his. Her legs wrapped around his waist and his massive length rested against her slick sex. He held her hips in his hands as he watched her large breasts heave with each pant that escaped her bitten lips.

“Those fuckers you work for should put this image right here on the cover,” he felt her pussy lips clench on the underside of his cock, “Fuck, you like the idea of people seein’ what a cock drunk lil’ whore you are, baby?”

She dumbly nodded, not a thought forming in her fuzzy, lust-fueled mind.

Ben rut his hips back and forth, coating himself in her slick, “That face right there is why Santa was so good to you this year. Ain’t even put it in yet and you’re already a fucked dumb whore.”

She whined and whimpered, hips wiggling in anticipation as he notched his tip at her entrance. The need burned deep in her stomach, but she was being patient for him.

“My fucked dumb whore. My pretty lil’ slut,” he started to press his hips forward, “My favorite girl. Daddy’s spoiled princess.”

Ben moaned as her cunt clenched around him at his praises. He was a possessive son of a bitch, and feeling that anklet pressing between his lower back and her ankle made him fucking animalistic. His right hand slid from her hip to circle her clit with his thumb. She cried out and he moaned when their hips were flush together, tip kissing the back of her cervix. She never got tired of that overly full feeling only he could give her. That sweet stretching of her opening was addicting. Ben leaned over her, left hand holding her hip while right leaning against the mattress next to her head. Just as she was about to beg for him to move, his hips snapped forward. Each thrust hard and deliberate in reshaping her plush, velvet walls to his cock again.

Small hands held on to his strong neck and broad shoulders as her eyes watched his abs flex. She drooled over the way his body looked as he fucked her. She didn’t know what possessed her mind to conjure it, but she thought he was so pretty. Prettier than any gift he’d gotten her. It was odd to think of a man so ruggedly handsome as pretty. His forest green eyes dark with lust, his long hair hanging in his face, perfect smile adorning his face every time she cried out his name. It was beautiful.

“Sss…ssso pretty, d-daddy,” her right hand skimmed down his chest, red nails tracing down his V-line, “Prettier t-than m-me.”

Ben chuckled down leaned down on his forearm to brush his lips against her cheek, “Not prettier than you, baby, but I appreciate the compliment. Ya like daddy’s pretty cock inside ya?”

She gasped when he picked up his thrusts. The way her nails kept tickling his V-line made him shudder. Suddenly, he took her hands in his, intertwining their fingers and holding them above her head. Her legs wrapped tighter around his hips as he drove into her deeper. The only sound leaving her lips ‘uh, uh, uh’ over and over again. He sucked on her neck, leaving large bruises all over her neck. Each love bite soothed over with the pass of his tongue.

Her whole body was tingling and writhing. This was why he didn’t want her to play with herself. Her body was so sensitive and responsive to him it was insane. Selfishly, he wanted her to only get pleasure from him. Only cum when he wants her to, in the way he wants her to, however many times he wants her to. She was completely at his mercy, addicted to his touch. He suddenly flipped them, placing her on top before letting go of her hands to wrap his arms around her. She slipped hers around his neck and head, grasping his brown locks to make him look her in the eye.

His thrusts continued at a brutal pace. His teeth bit into her bottom lip as she moaned and trembled. When his right hand trailed up her spine, he took a fist full of her hair and pulled her mouth to his. The mind melting way he kissed her made her move her hips more with his thrusts. Suddenly, his left hand moved down to harshly grab and slap her ass. He swallowed her gasp when he suddenly circled his finger around the hole he wasn’t fucking. “O-Oh, fuck, baby!” he stuttered as her inner walls choked his cock, “Didn’t know you wanted daddy to play with your asshole, did ya?”

She could only whine, enjoying the constant circling of his middle finger over the small hole. The way their bodies pressed together made her rub her clit against his pelvis. She frantically rode him as he kept fucking up into her. Her voice went up higher in pitch the closer she came to exploding. “Look at you! Gettin’ off to daddy teasing your ass and fucking you raw. I’m gonna have to pull out.”

She gasped and held him tighter, nearly sobbing, “No! D-Don’t pull out, daddy! Stay i-inside! Want…huh…it inside!”

Ben smirked at the sound she made when he ground the tip of his dick into her cervix. He fucked her like a beast, primal need driving him to claim her in the most feral ways possible. And, she was going to let him for as long as he pleased. Her orgasm hit them both like a truck. She dug her nails into his chest, screaming and whimpering as she squirted all over his lap. The wet sounds filling the room were fucking obscene. It sounded like a dog drinking water as he kept ramming into her.

“Oh fuck, you can’t stop,” he laughed, “You can’t stop cummin’, can ya? This pussy won’t stop squirtin’!”

She let out little panting whines as her body jerked and convulsed. A scream of ecstasy came from her mouth when Ben hooked the tip of his finger into her asshole and slammed her on his cock. Both nearly blacked out as he came deep inside her with a loud roar that bled into a moan. The way her walls constricted and tried to push him out made him pump harder, deeper, forcing her sensitive body to spasm around his cock.

The two rode their highs, gently rutting against one another. Sweat clung to her skin while only a light sheen dusted the his. It would take a couple of rounds before the supe truly broke out in a sweat. Ben whispered sweet things in her ear as she floated down to earth.

“You did good, baby. Daddy’s so proud of ya,” he cooed into her ear, hands moving soothingly over her skin, “Best Christmas present I could’a asked for.”

She only hummed as she littered his chest and neck with kisses. Neither moved from their position, staying as close as possible. She stayed pressed against the expanse of his chest as he leaned over and took a joint from the night stand. The lighter flicked to life and the smell of weed filled the air. Her mind was still foggy and lightheaded, snuggled up in a syrupy sweet state. If he pulled out right now, she’d throw a desperate and pitiful tantrum, but he had no intention of leaving her insides any time soon.

Ben heard her heart rate slow and breathing begin to equalize. Her mouth nuzzled against his jaw playfully as her hands wondered over his muscles, “I have a present for you, daddy.”

“Another one? The only present I want is to do THIS until one of us passes out,” he smirked.

“We do that all the time,” she giggled, “Grab the black folder from the drawer.”

Holding the joint between his lips, he once again reached to the small table. He opened the drawer to find black folder with his Supe name printed on the cover in silver letters. Ben settled back onto the bed and opened the gift to reveal a spectacular sight. Picture after picture of her in the most revealing, jaw-dropping lingerie, while posed in the most ball-achingly, sinfully delicious positions.

“Holy shit! When did you do this?” he asked looking down at her.

Her giggle turned into a whimper as she felt him begin to throb and harden inside her, “Playboy asked to do a shoot with me a few weeks ago. I asked Hugh if I could borrow the set up for something special for America’s Hero.”

The more he kept flipping through the glossy pictures, the stiffer he became inside her. She weakly pushed herself up to sit up and on his dick. By the time he tossed the folder on the bed, she was rolling her hips and frantically fucking herself on him like a bitch in heat. “You read my fuckin’ mind, doll,” he moaned as she took his large hands and placed them on her tits.

“One…one more…present,” she panted, hands encouraging his to be rougher with her chest.

He couldn’t tear his eyes from where his dick disappeared inside her, “Thought I was supposed to spoil you? What else did ya get me?”

Her eyes had been pinched closed, but she pried them open to look at him. She bit her lip before finally letting it slip, “I want you to f-fuck me at H-Herogasm. In front of everyone, daddy!”

Ben almost came again, “Goddamnit, seriously?!? Are you for real?”

She nodded frantically as she kept bouncing, “Only you. N-No one else!”

His head thumped against the headboard as he groaned in deep satisfaction, fingers pinching her nipples, “Just me, honey, you got it! Christ on a cross! I think I’m in love!”

She let out a breathy giggle, eyes rolling into the back of her head, “M-Merry Christmas, daddy.”

“Merry fuckin’ Christmas, baby,” he moaned.

//

Have a very Nonsense Christmas🎄💋

[queen-of-the-avengers]

More Than Meets The Eye

Pairing: Bartender!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~3.7k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: Natasha stays over for a few days and kicks up drama for you and Bucky. She makes you realize that there is more than meets the eye when it comes to Bucky Barnes.

One in a Million Series

Square Filled: day-in-the-life (2024) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Natasha is usually very pristine and professional. She is widely known across the state as one of the best realtors the business has ever seen. She has clients who go for multi-million dollar homes, and she scores nearly every single sale she gets. If she acts out in public, it can largely affect her business, so she tends to keep to herself.

Not when she has alcohol in her system.

Like tonight. She’s in a fling with a musician who she only needs whenever she’s stressed, but it works for both of them. There aren’t any strings attached and they can still get their work done without the stress of a relationship. Natasha turns into a whole other person when she’s drunk. The slut in her comes out and she becomes even more bold. She’s normally shy and reserved.

Not tonight.

Whenever the musician is in town, he tends to stay at her place since he’s only in town for a few days. She texted you twenty minutes ago from a club downtown where the musician is playing. Clubs are not your thing but you’re there when she needs you. After checking in at the door, you push your way inside where there is a sea of people on the dancefloor.

You’re standing on a ledge that overlooks the club. You can either go upstairs where there are more private areas for people just enjoying the music with some drinks while the party is downstairs. From where you are, you can see Natasha and the musician on the other side of the bar.

“Natasha!” You yell even though you know she won’t hear you. You push your way through the sea of people, trying to ignore the hot sweaty bodies bumping into you. “Natasha!”

She turns when she hears her name. “Thank God, you’re here.”

“What’s going on?”

“I caught him with another woman in my bed! My bed!”

“You were gone. I have needs. What do you want me to do?” the musician groans.

“That’s my apartment, asshole! I want your shit out now!”

“I leave in three days. You get it back then.”

You can’t believe how he’s acting but you really don’t want to do this here and now. You grab her arm and pull her toward you. “Come on, he’s not worth it.”

“He’s at my apartment. I don’t want to go back there,” she groans.

“You can stay with me. Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

She’d be more upset if she didn’t just have nearly eight shots earlier. Thankfully, she listens to you and leaves the club with you. Your car is in a gas station parking lot since there wasn’t any parking near or at the club.

“He’s not worth it, Nat.”

“I know, but still. It’s like I’ve got no game lately. All I want is a nice man who will take care of me.”

“Well, you got me.”

She wraps an arm around your shoulder. “I do have you. You’re my best friend.”

“I love drunk you,” you giggle. Ten minutes pass and you’re at your place. In the elevator ride up, you think about what the guys might be doing. “So, listen, the guys are home and I don’t need you to be all sexual and grabby like I know you get.”

“Got it,” she nods.

“I’m serious, Nat. Best behavior.”

“I hear you. Best behavior,” she grins.

“Wait here.” You open the door and walk inside. Bucky is playing video games, Steve is trying to read a book, and Sam is blowing straw wrappers at Steve. Some of them hit him and others fly on his book or lap. “Hey, guys. I have Natasha with me, and it looks like she’s going to stay with us for a few days.” Steve perks up at Natasha’s name. “Just letting you know, she is very drunk and she’s very bold and loose with her body. I am so sorry for whatever she might try on you guys.”

You open the front door and Natasha walks in with a sly smirk on her face.

“Natasha. Wow, you look amazing,” Steve says, forgoing his book altogether.

“Thanks, baby,” she grins.

“Okay, you can sleep on the couch tonight, and we’ll figure something out tomorrow. Let me get you some blankets and a pillow.”

You leave her with the guys and walk into your room. Seconds later, you hear the stereo turn on and loud music is blasted. You sigh knowing this was a possibility but hoped it wasn’t going to happen. When you walk into the living room, you see Natasha, Steve, and Sam dancing along to the music. Bucky is still on the couch, clearly not wanting any part of this.

“Natasha, you should really get some sleep.”

“Dance first! Bucky, come on!”

“I’m okay, really. I’m going to go to bed.”

She shimmies her way over to Bucky who stands up. She pulls him into her body, and he tries to politely get her off him.

“Natasha, come on. He doesn’t want to dance.” She lets him go and he slips by her easily. He looks at you as he passes but doesn’t say anything else. It looks like she won’t be sleeping anytime soon, so you put the blankets and pillows on the couch. “Okay, I’m going to bed. Keep it down in here, please.”

Ten minutes after you leave, Natasha starts to grow tired. Steve jumps at the chance to take her to bed even though he’s not going to do anything with her. He’s a gentleman and that won’t change even if she is intoxicated. He really likes her and if he wants to be with her, he’s going to have to show him he’s not just some fling she’s used to.

“Come on, let me show you to my bed.”

Steve wraps a strong arm around her waist and guides her to his bedroom. She flops onto the bed face first and is out like a light. Steve looks around and grabs a small blanket before draping it over her body. He joins Sam back in the living room and plops down on the couch with a grin.

“Why are you grinning?”

“She’s in my bed. I overheard some conversations she and Y/N have had. All she’s ever had are flings, so I’m going to show her that I can be the gentleman she needs.”

“Yeah, because that’s a way to get a girl into bed,” Sam laughs.

“Just you wait, Sam. It’ll happen.”

In the morning, you wake to Bucky nursing his second cup of coffee. Steve is sleeping on the couch which means Natasha must be in his bedroom.

“Good morning, Bucky.”

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Is that all you’re having for breakfast?” Bucky shrugs and you shake your head. “Not acceptable. You’re a growing man. You need proper food. I’ll make you some.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Nonsense. I want to. Do you like eggs? Pancakes? Waffles?”

“No, Y/N, I’m fine.”

“Eggs and bacon it is,” you smile. “You can have some with me. Plus, I’m sure Natasha and the guys will be hungry when they wake up.”

“I’m fine, Y/N. Stop being so nice to me. You don’t have to…”

“What?” you ask when he stops talking.

“You don’t have to take care of me.”

“Well, someone has to, right? Everyone deserves someone to take care of them every once in a while,” you smile and turn back to the food.

Bucky stares at you in thought. He nods and takes a sip of his coffee. At the smell of food, Sam and Steve wake up. The only person who is sleeping is Natasha, and you can only assume she is going to want a strong cup of coffee, so you start to brew a pot for her. Much like you assumed, she walks out of Steve’s room when she smells the coffee.

“Is that coffee?”

“Brewed a new pot for you. Extra hot. Extra strong.”

“Thank you, Y/N.”

“Natasha. I hope you slept well,” Steve smiles.

“Thank you for letting me use your bed. You didn’t have to.”

“It’s no problem. Our couch isn’t the best, and I didn’t want your back all messed up.”

Sam looks at Steve who smiles knowingly. Natasha pours herself a cup of coffee while you plate the food. You slide one over to Bucky and smile at him.

“Eat. I can hear your stomach growling from over here.”

Bucky doesn’t say a word but accepts the food from you. After a nice breakfast, Natasha hops in the shower to wash of the stink from last night, and Steve strips his bed to wash the sheets. Natasha might smell good, better than most, but she reeked of alcohol last night, and he doesn’t want his bed smelling like that.

You get dressed in a green and white dress that goes down to your knees, and you walk into the bathroom where the lotion is. You pause when you see Sam standing by the sink with a toothbrush in his mouth… without toothpaste. Steve is standing by the towel rack looking at the large amount of products he keeps there. His hair is always silky smooth and his skin always looks amazing. He has some of the best products that you like to steal from time to time.

“What are you guys doing?”

“I’m brushing my teeth,” Sam says in defense.

“I’m just… doing things,” Steve mutters.

Bucky walks into the bathroom and pauses when he notices everyone else. “Is this a normal hangout spot now?”

“Nat, you’ve been in there for ages. Come on,” you say and squirt some lotion onto your hands.

“Sorry, I just can’t seem to find any towels that are bigger.” She slides the curtain back after she secures a towel around her body. All three men are big guys but their waists are slim, so they don’t need big towels, and all of yours are in the washer. “Oh.”

Sam stops brushing his teeth and stares at her while Steve blushes hard. He wants to look but every time he does, his face goes red so he clears his throat and turns away.

“Okay, come on. I have something you can wear.”

Bucky’s brain takes a few minutes to process what’s happening, so he freezes up when she tries to go past him. He barely gives her an inch to move, and you shake your head in disappointment.

“I am very disappointed in all of you.” You look at Bucky. “Especially you. I thought you were better than this.”

“I am sometimes.”

You walk into your room where Natasha is going through your closet for something to wear. You close the door to give her privacy, and she turns holding a shirt you got out of whim. Your style isn’t very flashy but she convinced you to get this shirt that exposes a bit more cleavage.

“No, I haven’t worn it yet. Yes, you can.”

“Thanks,” she grins.

She grabs a pair of jeans that she left over one time and puts those on along with the shirt.

“So, are we going to talk about last night?”

“I blacked most of it out. What happened?”

“You almost gave Bucky a lap dance, and it was cute to watch Steve gush all over you. That boy likes you.”

“Ooh, are we talking about boys?”

“Yeah, like your ex-boyfriend musician. Are you going to kick him out of your apartment?”

“He’s going to be gone in a few days. Can I just stay here until he’s gone?”

“Nat, that’s your place.”

“I know, but you don’t know this guy. He’s a PR nightmare. It’s best if I let him stay there until he’s gone.” You shrug. “Let’s talk about Bucky now.”

“Bucky? What about him?”

“Come on. You say Steve likes me? Bucky likes you.”

“No, he doesn’t. We’re just friends.”

“You can’t be just friends with these guys. Do you really think none of them have ever thought about sleeping with you?”

“Stop, it Nat,” you sigh.

Someone knocks on your door and Bucky opens it.

“Hey, Y/N, I’m going to the store. Do you need anything?”

“Yes,” Nat answers for you. “You should go with him, Y/N, to get that thing you really need.”

“I don’t need a thing.”

“Yes, you do. You need that thing you were telling me about.”

“I wonder what that is,” Bucky mumbles.

“She’ll be right out,” Nat smiles. She closes the door on him and turns to you with a smile. “This is perfect.”

You look at her and your eyes widen. “No, you’re not doing this. You’re not going to come in here and ruin what I have with them. I’m finally happy after Jack, and I really like these guys. I think they’re starting to like me, too.”

“Do you remember telling me about your perfect man? Bucky is everything on your list. Physically strong. Check. Nice smile. Double check. Tall. Triple check. Blue eyes, kind, caring, knows what he wants, and older. Check, check, and check.” She walks closer to you. “Plus, did you see his feet? A guy’s feet always point to what they want, and his were pointing right at you.”

“How would you like him to stand?” You stand and point both feet outward like a duck. “Like this?”

“Come on, go. He’s waiting for you.”

“Hey, are you ready?” Bucky calls out.

“Be there in a sec, bro!”

“Did you just call me bro?”

You pause. “Yeah. I’m coming.” You open the door. “Talk to Steve. I think he can be good for you.”

“Only if you talk to Bucky.”

“Bye,” you roll your eyes.

The ride to the store wasn’t as awkward as you thought it was going to be, but being in the store with all these people, all you could think about were Nat’s words.

“So, how long is she staying?” Bucky asks.

He has a very short list of items to get, and he goes through the different aisles and puts them in the cart.

“Only for a few days. Her douchey ex-boyfriend is staying in her apartment. It’s a long story.”

Everywhere you look there are different kinds of couples. Older, younger, same sex… Everywhere you look, you’re paying attention to their feet. One older couple has both their feet pointed at each other while another couple has theirs pointed away from each other. That couple looks like they don’t enjoy each other’s company as much. Is she right? Bucky says something but you’re too much in your own head to hear what he has to say.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“Stop taking care of everyone.”

You look down and notice his feet are pointing right at you. “Oh, my God.”

“What?”

“What?” You look up at him. “Nothing. What?”

“What?” You move slowly around Bucky but he follows you by moving his entire body and not just his head. “What are you doing?” You keep moving around Bucky to get his feet away from you but he keeps turning so that they’re always pointed at you. “I know she’s your best friend, but I didn't mean to insult you. I’m just saying you don’t have to take care of her.”

“I know.”

You do a complete one-eighty around him, yet he still follows you with his feet.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing. I’m just trying to see…”

“Look, I’m sorry if I insulted you, but what are you doing right now?”

“I’m just… walking like a friend.”

“Okay, we have one more item on our list and then we can go. We just need toilet paper.”

“I don’t use it,” you say slowly.

“You don’t use toilet paper?”

You chuckle nervously and shake your head. “I mean… That’s not what I meant.” There is some right next to you so you grab the first one you see and put it in the cart. “Okay, we can go now.”

“You’re so weird,” he mutters and walks to the cashier.

Fuck, Natasha. She said something and now she’s in your head like a goddamn parasite. You two leave the store and start the journey back home. Bucky stops at the light and turns to you with confusion on his face.

“Okay, what is going on with you, Y/N?”

“Why do you have to do that? Why do you have to say my name like that?” You imitate him. “Y/N. And why do you have to wear old man clothes all the time?”

“I’m not wearing old man clothes. You don’t like the way I dress?”

“No… I just…” You fan your face. “I just need some air.”

All the windows are open but Bucky doesn’t comment on it. Just then, a woman walks up to the window carrying a bunch of red roses and is trying to sell them at stoplights like this one. You respect her trying to make extra money, but you can’t deal with this right now. All you can think about is Bucky and the fact that you saw his giant penis and the way his feet kept pointing at you.

“Roses for the lady?” the woman grins.

“You want some roses? I’ll buy you some.”

“No, I’m okay.”

Still, Bucky takes out some cash and hands it over to the woman who then gives the roses to him.

“Here, take some roses.”

“No, I don’t want them.”

“They were two dollars. Just take the roses.” You have to get out of here. You unbuckle and open the car door before fleeing. “Y/N, what are you doing? It was a joke. Get back in the car!” you take off running down the street. “Y/N!”

You don’t care if you’re going the wrong way. You just needed out of that goddamn car. It takes you an extra twenty minutes to get home when it could have taken you five in the car, but you needed the walk. You trudge inside your apartment to see Natasha sitting on the couch with a realtor magazine in her hands. She likes to keep up with what’s popular around the city.

“I walked all the way home,” you pant. “I got out of the war and walked all the way home.”

“What happened?”

“You happened, Nat. You got in my head! His feet were pointed at me the whole time.” She nods and stands up. “Is it the way I’m dressed? Is it my posture?”

“Look, I’ll talk to him for you.”

“No, please don’t. Just let me handle this, okay?”

The door opens and Bucky walks in with the groceries. “Okay, what the hell happened, Y/N? I’ve been driving around for the last thirty minutes looking for you. We were in the middle of traffic and you just got out and ran away.”

“I was hot,” you mumble.

“You were so hot that you had to jump out of my car and run?” You lean to the right and fix your posture. “Why are you standing like that?”

“This is how I always stand?”

“I’ve never seen you stand like that.” He shakes his head. “Look, I was worried about you, okay? You can’t just… Don’t do that again, okay?”

Bucky walks away and Natasha grins at you.

“Are you even listening to him? He’s trying to tell you that he likes you.”

“No, he’s just saying he cares about me as a friend.”

“Let’s go ask him.” She takes two steps and you jump on her back to stop her. She turns into the fighter that she is and starts to wrestle you, and you two go crumbling to the ground. “I am trying to help you, Y/N!”

“I don’t need your help, Nat. I like being friends with him. Yes, he has a giant penis that I saw. Yes, he saw me naked. Yes, he might be my dream guy, but none of that matters. He’s my friend and all that will go away if I bring this up. What if you’re wrong? What if he doesn’t like me?”

“A big part of my job is reading people. How do you think I managed to score as much as I have? I’ve managed to talk down narcissists and misogynists to buy more than the selling price. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. You never make the first move.”

“I have before, Natasha. I’ve been burned too many times to let it happen again. I like living here and that might go away because ‘you can read people’. I know you want to take care of me like I take care of you, but I have to handle this. Me, not you.”

“Fine,” she huffs out. “Thank you for letting me stay, but it’s best if I kick Troy out of my place. You got your boy drama and I have mine. Plus, I have a showing later in Beverly Hills I can’t miss.”

“You’re always welcome here.”

She leaves the apartment and Steve comes out of his room.

“Is she gone?”

“Yeah, she is.”

Steve sighs and flops onto the couch. “I don’t know how to do this. She’s not like any woman I have ever met. I thought we had a moment while you were gone, but it’s like it never happened with her.”

“Natasha has been hurt so many times. She had flings because in the last relationship she was in, he… I shouldn’t tell you this, but I will say this. She’s going to make you work for it.”

“That’s what makes it worth it,” he smiles.

“Good luck. She could use a guy like you.”

You’re exhausted by the end of the night, so you do your nighttime routine before going to bed. The first thing you do is brush your teeth. The door opens and Bucky walks in just as you start. You lightly blush just as Bucky grabs his toothbrush. You stand there in silence for a few minutes before you spit out the toothpaste in your mouth.

“Hey, I’m sorry for how I acted before.” Bucky looks at you. “Nat said something that freaked me out, but I’m good now. I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“It’s okay,” he says with a mouthful of toothpaste.

He turns to the sink again and continues brushing, and you notice his feet move away from you and back to the sink. To hide your smile, you continue brushing your teeth, and your heart flutters.

x

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[neysaadept]

Prometheus Chapter 13

Emily Prentiss x Female CIA Reader

Chapter 13 - Chasing After You

Tags: Swearing, canon typical violence, panic attack, drinking, mentions of grooming, drugs, arson, juvenile detention, breast mutilation, incest, and underage prostitution. No beta reader, mistakes are all me. Minors DNI.

Word Count: 7.5k

AO3

… Desperate for changing Starving for truth I'm closer to where I started I'm chasing after you

Hanging by a Moment - Lifehouse

You haven’t changed out of your sleep clothes or done your morning routine as you sit on the edge of the bed next to the open black duffel bag on Saturday morning. There is a navy-blue sweatshirt sleeve hanging off the side with drumsticks peeking out. Everything else was safely nestled inside except for the phone in your hand that you were staring at as if willing the device to magically alert you to a response about your text message.

Alpha sent 0534: I think I’m fucked.

You couldn’t talk to anyone at the BAU about your hot and cold relationship with Emily because it would get back to her for sure. The team sucks at keeping personal secrets that don’t affect national security or involving a case. Rebecca wasn’t an option either. She may have been your partner in crime with the fake dating prank, but she’s with Tara and that goes back to the first group of individuals you’re trying to keep this from. Brian was out. No way were you going to drop this bombshell after decades of being a lone wolf of you willingly flirting with the section chief and it being clear that awkward night was affecting your working relationship. He already has his suspicions on your drunken behavior because you are the master of not letting your guard down. And you did.

“Come on,” you urge down at your phone and look at the time shift to 0559.

You’re about to give up when the chime went off that you received a message. Eagerly, you open the message and smile.

Charlie sent 0559: And what did we do this time? 😊

Alpha sent 0603: You promise to not tease me?

Charlie sent 0604: I can make no promises, love.

Alpha sent 0604: 😡

Alpha sent 0605: PLEASE

Charlie sent 0605: Wow. This IS serious. What is going on?

Charlie sent 0605: And if it is something with the mission Brian got your back.

Alpha sent 0606: Not about current assignment.

Charlie sent 0607: 😮

Charlie sent 0607: OK that is a first.

Charlie sent 0607: What is wrong? How can I help?

You pause typing there because now comes the hard part – admitting you are capable of having amorous feelings towards another woman. You press your lips tightly together and fumble with the keypad, typing and deleting your message several times. Then you hang your head when you finally send it with a fiercely beating heart full of fright.

Alpha sent 0612: I really like someone. A lot.

The phone immediately rings and you laugh because it was expected. You answer it while scooting back against the headboard with your legs stretched outwards. You had been hunched over for so long your muscles were screaming in stiffness which makes you grunt against the receiver.

“Woman you tell me everything right now because I am not believing you!”

“Yeah,” you chuckle, overwhelmed at admitting this. “Comes as a big fucking surprise to me, too.” You narrow your eyes. “Do you know what I’m doing now?”

“Clearly not the woman that stole your heart.”

You blush hotly and cover your face. “Dude, just … just stop.”

She cackles over the phone. “I have to tease my baby sister that she has a crush.”

“Oh my god, I am not twelve. Stop talking like I’m a child.” But that made you glower into your lap, bringing your mind back to the argument with Prentiss.

“Ouch. That hit a nerve.”

“Yeah, sorry. It’s not you. It’s the whole fucking situation.”

“Okay. So, fill me in. And no, Brian hasn’t told me or Echo anything about what you’ve been up to.”

You fill her in on everything regarding Rebecca Wilson’s big favor, working with the BAU as a consultant, the stipend, and all about Section Chief Emily Prentiss. The first rocky week of your partnership, drinks at Buddy’s, making amends with a desk, Diet Coke, and working assignments together. Then you go into explicit details of Emily coming to your unit and collecting you for a girl’s night, the drunken ride home, and the inexplicable attraction that kept you standing there helpless before forcing yourself to move towards your building. And, of course, yesterday’s fight.

“Wow,” she says in amazement, but joy is heard there, too. “I never thought I’d live to see this day.”

“You’re not kidding.” You sigh into the receiver. “It’s so easy. Working with Emily. Being around Emily. It was nice, too. Finding that with someone outside of the fucking CIA and our little group,” you confess soberly. “Then it all got ruined because I’m a dumbass.”

“You’re not a dumbass for having feelings.”

“Yes, I am. I’m not supposed to have them because I’m incapable of having them. And now they’ve fucked up my friendship with her because now I have them. Which only furthers proves I’m a fucking idiot.” You slam your fist against the bedspread and growl in frustration at yourself. “She completely hates me now.”

“You’re only human. And honestly? This just shows how far you’ve come. And no, I sincerely doubt she hates you. You said the fight didn’t escalate like before, right?”

You bounce your head against the headboard lightly in rhythm to think and then stop when you speak up again. “No. It was … rather tame considering.”

“Right. So obviously she isn’t that upset.”

“Then I made her uncomfortable.”

“You made the Emily Prentiss uncomfortable? Girl, get over yourself.” She laughs and you can’t help joining in.

“Okay, point. But she’s obviously affected by what I said without directly coming out and saying it.”

“Yeah, and?”

“And, what?” you ask, puzzled.

“Fucking go talk to her.”

You freeze, feeling all the blood drain from your face and speak with a shaky face. “Uh, yeah. No. Can’t do that.”

“And why not?”

“Because I’m always gonna be two triggers away from becoming a sociopath and she doesn’t need someone like me in her life!” you yell, white knuckling the phone.

“Oh, sweetie. We’re all wired this way. I bet Prentiss is, too. Some just got it worse than others, like you, but even we deserve happiness. You’re long overdue for some.”

She waits for you to get ahold of your ragged breathing that she hears pounding against the other end. You put the phone down and collect yourself, running a hand through your hair and realize that your once comfortable position sitting against the headboard had become you hugging knees to your chest. You roll your head back and forth and begin the familiar pattern of breathing and holding your breaths in fours. With each successful round of grounding, your limbs loosen and fall to the bed. Your neck cracks and stretches the tension away until finally, tight shoulders drop.

You’re back and you bring the phone to your ear knowing Charlie is waiting for you.

“Better?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Now let’s start over and talk about why you deserve this chance and then you can see how you feel about it and make a decision.”

“Damn it,” mutters Rebecca looking at her phone. She’s cozied up against Tara’s side on the couch at her girlfriend’s home.

They wanted to have a quiet night in, but the two of them thought it would a good idea to invite you over to join them. Also, Rebecca hadn’t had a chance to see you since the dinner awhile back and she was missing you. They were waiting for your response but had started on the wine without you.

Tara looked up to respond with a questioning gaze. “What’s wrong?”

“She said no,” Rebecca responded frumpily and tossed her phone down by the furthest cushion. “I really thought she’d come.”

“I’m not,” Tara states emphatically without thinking before taking a sip from the wine glass. They had chosen a cabernet sauvignon to have while watching the movie Till, and the bottle was ready for refills on the coffee table.

Rebecca’s head snaps at Tara with much curiosity. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Tara stopped in mid-sip realizing she was in trouble. “Uh …”

“Don’t uuuuuh me.” She pries the drink from Tara’s hand and sets in on the table. “What’s going on with her that I don’t know because last time I remember, I was her friend first. Which means, I’m on a need to know basis on what you clowns at the BAU have done to her.”

“Hey! What makes you think it’s us?” Tara declared with a tinge of hurt.

“Who else could it be?” she retorts with confidence and goes into lawyer mode. “The only variable that’s changed with her since I’ve known her is working as an FBI consultant with the BAU. And I know your track record with drama. So, please tell the jury who else has upset Agent Whitlock. And remember,” she pauses to bop Tara’s nose with a fingertip, “you’re under oath.”

Tara playfully tries to bite Rebecca’s finger as she pulls away which makes them smile adoringly towards one another. It makes Tara sigh with a roll of her eyes. “It’s not technically the BAU.”

Rebecca raises an unamused brow, but Tara holds up a hand to halt the retort. “I’m serious.” She rocks her head back and forth on how to phrase this. “It’s really just the … section chief of the BAU.”

That makes her brows furrow in defensiveness. “What the hell did Prentiss do?”

Tara leans with a huff. “It’s a long story.”

She takes the remote and pauses the movie. “Girl, I’ve got all night for you to convince me not to tear Prentiss a new asshole. You better get talking.”

User45125 sent 0924: Before we get to that, need assurances. 

FlamePit23 sent 0945: Like what?

User45125 sent 0955: Need a favor done. And if done right, we can go ahead with your present.

FlamePit23 sent 0956: What kind of favor?

User45125 sent 0956: Not here. Want to talk. You game?

FlamePit23 sent 0957: I am.

User45125 sent 0959: Let me take care of some things on my end and I’ll let you know.

FlamePit23 sent 1000: Try not to have too much fun without me.

User45125 sent 1001: Wouldn’t think of it.

FlamePit23: sent 1002: Good. Talk soon.

This conversation happened during the day at the BAU where Prentiss and Garcia could watch the exchange in real time. Soon as you got the first text, you fired off one to Prentiss and Garcia to meet you in Penelope’s lair.

“Good work, my beloved cutie. You’ve gotten one step closer at snagging Spiderboy,” exclaims Penelope giving you a bright smile.

“Thanks.” You nod appreciatively. “Need to be careful though. He sniffs even an ounce of deceit; this plan is fucked.”

“Agreed.” Prentiss remains passive, focusing on the screen. You two haven’t shared a single word that wasn’t work related which was fine by you. “Let’s go over your cover.”

Penelope cracks her knuckles and brings up the digital creation for you. “Meet Nikole Wade – forty-three-year-old woman who barely graduated High School with a 2.0 GPA at Graves County in Mayfield, KY. She has a lovely rap sheet of violence and arson that has landed her in juvie several times because of her abusive father, Liam Wade. Thankfully he tragically died by slamming into a tree because he had a heart attack while driving his truck. Backstory, he was addicted to alcohol and cocaine. Mama Katie Wade in her infinite wisdom, thought she could groom her daughter for prostitution to pay the numerous bills. That’s when Nikole’s penchant for fire starting came to fruition and burned down the house, along with her mother. It was ruled an accident because mommy dearest had too much to drink and kept the stove on. Nikole ends up working a lot of retail jobs and is currently a cashier at the Food City grocery store in Gatlinburg, TN.”

“This fits with the whole nurturing angle that FlamePit23 has on her profile,” you continue. “And with a history like this, it explains her antisocial tendencies and denying friendships. We theorize by previous posts that the user came to this forum to gain new insights into what other arsonists are doing to keep their habits going without getting caught. Then ends up disgusted with how many wannabees there are playing pretend.”

“And this corroborates Green��s explanation of how Sicarius weeded through the users for those individuals that were legit. FlamePit being one of them,” Prentiss surmises.

“Exactly.” Penelope brings up a picture of you digitally altered to look like a teen during the juvie years of your story. “Isn’t she cute!”

Your head drops as you sigh. “You won’t let that go.”

“I will not. Not unless you show me an actual picture of teenage you to dispute your cuteness.”

“You know I can’t do that,” you plead while turning your head to look at her.

“Therefore, you are cute!” Penelope grins with a scrunched nose.

“Both of you focus,” Prentiss snaps, which got both of yours attention. And here you thought she would remain neutral but here comes bitch mode. “What have you done to make Sicarius believe this?”

Penelope’s wide eyes return to normal after being scolded. “Ah, well, the usual. High school records, a sealed juvenile record, uh … different places she’s worked, social security cards, birth certificates. A few police reports and articles about the crash and fire. If he somehow goes deeper than that, we’ll … we’re screwed.”

“But really, a person like Nikole Wade isn’t gonna have a lot to find since she’s kept to herself since becoming of age. I’ve already studied unsolved arsons in the Kentucky and Tennessee area that I can use for a resume in case he questions me,” you add. “Honestly, this is as good as it’s gonna get, Prentiss. Not unless you want me to do an entire photoshoot for new material.”

She heard the roughness in your tone in response to her impatience. She really couldn’t blame you and rises from her seat. “Alright. Let me know when he schedules the call. Until then, I’ll be in my office.”

“Oh, okay, Emily …” Penelope starts talking but Prentiss already was on the move and didn’t make eye contact with either of you. The door closes and she ends up waving to the door. “Bye!”

You roll your eyes at Prentiss’ childish behavior. “Anyway, I should probably get back to my desk since we’re good here.”

Penelope wants to say something so bad, but she can’t. She just can’t! No matter how much she wants to interfere and smack yours and Emily’s heads together to get a clue. Her, Tara and JJ all promised to not tell you anything.

So instead, she nods with agreement. “Yep! Those nasty reports can’t write themselves.”

Two days and there was no further contact from Sicarius, thus the BAU was business as usual writing up reports, analyzing data, and piecing together information to connect the victims in the shipping container to the missing persons. Tara has provided closure to three families. Penelope has made your cover identity as airtight as she possible can with the cyber crime division and what made Prentiss exceptionally happy? That Bailey had nothing to say about any of their work because the expenses were paid for and Director Korogoth’s glowing report of the BAU’s work in Idaho with your expertise made the AG extremely happy. She saw the benefit of Rebecca’s involvement of you, which also made Director Madison happy. The BAU was coming out ahead all thanks to collaborative efforts of you and the BAU.

What personally sucked was the lack of resolution between the two of you. She hadn’t even devised a solution to the problem she, once again, created so the only option was to avoid anything social with you. Admittedly her anxiety over the situation spilled over to impatience with snappish responses to any frivolity in the unit. At least she was consistently bitchy instead of her previous singular agenda against you. What weighed on her mind were things growing more awkward as she dragged out clearing the air with you.

“Hey, Em? Got a sec?”

She looks up from the opened file from New Mexico to address JJ. “Yeah. Come on in.”

JJ closes the door which puts Emily on alert. “Is everything okay?”

“Well, that depends.” JJ takes a seat across from Emily with purpose.

Emily speaks cautiously. “Oh what …”

“On why you haven’t talked with Whitlock yet,” she accuses.

She closed the file forcefully and was defiant. “JJ, I’m in no mood for this right now.”

JJ’s brows raise in disagreement. “Ah, well. Guess what? We’re talking because your mood sucks around here and it’s getting really old, really quick.”

“Are you seriously reprimanding me?” Emily challenged.

“Ah, yeah. Clearly, I am.” She frowns. “You need to talk to someone about it. Why not me?”

Emily starts to respond but doesn’t know how to start, leaving her mouth hanging open. JJ is patient since she sees that she is trying.

“You were right, JJ,” she admits with a long face. “I fucked up.”

“How did you fuck up?” she probed gently.

“Nina … is her mandated psychiatrist.”

Blue eyes look hard at Emily to interpret why this news unsettled her. All of them had mandated therapy sessions at several points in their careers, and now she knew who Nina was. Which wasn’t a woman in competition with her for your affections. “Okay. How is this bad?”

Emily licks her upper teeth as if there was a bad taste in her mouth before holding JJ’s gaze. “Because … I didn’t do as you suggested. And because of that we had another disagreement here in my office. Oh, stop that!” Emily scolds JJ dubious look. “It wasn’t like before. Tempers weren’t so heightened. But …”

JJ leaned in closer waiting for a continuation that never comes. She speaks up, coaxing her friend to keep going. “But what, Emily?”

With a sigh, Emily shrinks back into her chair to avoid eye contact. “Because I didn’t ask her who Nina was like you suggested. Instead, I learned it because she took a call from Nina.”

JJ winces. “Ouch.”

She points emphatically to her. “Exactly.”

“Well, it’s still salvageable,” JJ suggests furrowing her brows with concentration.

“I’ve messed up twice, JJ.” She holds up two fingers for emphasis. “Twice. I’m not willing to gamble the third times the charm.”

“Okay, if you want to be technical, you’ve already messed up three times if you could the first week you worked together with her,” offers JJ with a glint in her eyes. “So, fourth time’s the charm?”

Emily response was crossing her arms over her chest.

“Okay, yeah. Not funny,” JJ agreed, but she wasn’t going to give up on Emily. “You’re gonna have to work together for awhile still. You might as well be honest and apologize to smooth things over.”

“She’s too smart to take just the apology, JJ. She’ll want a reason.”

JJ shrugs. “So, tell her the reason.”

“Tell her she hit on me in Russian?” she scoffs at that. “Like she’ll believe me. She obviously doesn’t remember what happened. And after my behavior, you really think she’ll take my word? Or hell, really anything I have to say?” She looks guilty at JJ. “I really laid into her about the last case. About her call in the field.”

JJ knows how ugly that can get and is sympathetic for you. “Remember what I said when we were discussing this before?”

“That I basically suck at relationships.”

“True, but you needing more information is what I was going for,” she reminds Emily. “I think that if you don’t resolve what is, and isn’t, going on with you and Whitlock, this is just gonna keep escalating further until you have a real blow up. Professionally, that won’t be good and could get someone seriously hurt … or killed.”

She nodded thoughtfully at that, knowing JJ was right. “And what about personally?”

“Oh, that’s simple.”

Emily looked at JJ who was sitting eagerly at the edge of the chair. “Yeah?”

“Mhm. I want you to be happy and I really think that if you clear up this misunderstanding, you’ll get that chance.”

The case officially came that evening once logistics were ironed out. Penelope sent out the ‘Avengers Assemble’ text to the team on Prentiss’ behalf and that night you took the jet to Albuquerque, NM. A series of disappearances occurred at different campsites where the victim’s cars were left at NomadLand and Enchanted Trails RV park. Word is the victims stopped there for directions and never made it back to their vehicles. Both families called in a missing person report. Two weeks later, a couple of dirt bike riders found the bodies of the missing women off an OHV* trail by Goose Lake. It was roughly a four-hour drive from Albuquerque. The bodies of the women were found naked with signs of sexual abuse and breast mutilation.

You, Rossi and Prentiss were working with Albuquerque detectives on the geographical profile and pouring over cases that may have been missed similar to the current one. Lewis was interviewing family and witnesses while Alvez and JJ were investigating the dump site and talking to the rider that found the bodies.

By the weekend you had the profile of a twenty to thirty-year-old male who not only wants power over his victims by assaulting them, but also expressing deeply rooted anger by disfiguring the victim’s breasts. It more than likely stems from psychology trauma inflicted upon his mother or another female authoritative figure. As the victims were both similar in appearance and age, they suspect a Hispanic unsub.

That brings you to Gabriel Arellano, a thirty-three year old out of Farmington, NM, a city three hours northwest of Santa Fe. He and his three brothers were raised by their single mother, Elisa Arellano. Several calls to CYFD* were made on the children’s behalf, due to Elisa’s drug and alcohol habits and eventually the children were taken away from her and they were put into the foster care system. Once Gabriel finished High School, he made it his mission to raise his siblings, but no one was aware of the sexual abuse his mother unleashed upon him when she was high and intoxicated.

That inner rage was tempered to protect his brothers, making sure that Elisa only abused him. By researching similar kidnappings, the BAU were able to determine that Gabriel’s killings started once his youngest brother, Ricardo, moved out of their shared apartment. Once alone, Gabriel no longer was focused with family obligations and was triggered by seeing a woman that resembled his mother at a construction job per Garcia’s digging. That disappearance happened six years ago. Paula Sanchez’s body was found outside of the Navajo Nation reservation, strangled, raped, and had bite marks on her breasts, focusing on the nipples. He has slowly escalated since.

State PD had issued an APB* on Arellano’s silver 2002 Dodge Charger as he was lying low since the news broke of his involvement. Law enforcement was confident he was still in state but had collaborated with surrounding states to monitor highways for people matching his description and vehicle.

After a lead on Arellano’s whereabouts turned up cold by a Circle K in Hatch, NM, you were driving back to the hotel in Albuquerque. The ride was under three hours and since it wasn’t hot this time of year, you had the window down enjoying the fresh air with classic rock playing. Prentiss was in the passenger seat checking her phone and Rossi was well aware of the tension between the two of you. Tension that had been building over the last week. Emily’s cold behavior had resurfaced after drinks last Friday night and was avoiding you at work as much as possible. Prior to that, the two of you had an easy working relationship and conversation. You sometimes took lunch together in Emily’s office. That came to a sudden halt on Monday.

He glances between the two of you and smiles. “Pretty chilly up front.”

You have your Ray-Ban’s on, so he didn’t notice you looking up at the rearview mirror. He has this knowing smirk on his face and your stomach sinks. You pray he says nothing. Emily doesn’t even acknowledge him.

“Alright. How about this.” He folds his hands atop his jacket. “Mind telling me what’s going on with you two?”

Prentiss keeps scrolling on her phone but not she’s on edge. Or at least was doing a good job pretending. You shrug. “I’d say I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about but clearly that won’t work.”

Rossi half smirks with a chuckle. “The trials and tribulations of working with profilers.”

Prentiss half snorts as you bit your lower lip in thought. You did not want to have this conversation right now with Rossi present. Or really, at all. You’re still mad at Emily.

He starts tapping his thumbs together thoughtfully as neither you or Prentiss comment further. “Come on, ladies. Something’s clearing bothering the two of you.” He pauses patiently. “What happened?”

“Nothing to concern yourself with Papa Rossi,” you dismiss with a half-smile that Prentiss catches.

“Oh, god. That was fucking terrible, Whitlock,” Emily noted with a huff.

Rossi was happy you two were talking but he didn’t understand what happened. “What was terrible?”

“Dave, seriously? You don’t hear it?” Emily says partially annoyed, but you note a hint of amusement.

He’s baffled. “Hear what?”

“Papa Rossi.” You say again and he looks blankly at you still not understanding the joke. “It’s like … paparazzi ya big fancy famous writer man.”

“Ooooh!” His head rocks back as he laughs just as a silver Dodge Camaro passes your SUV on the other side of the two-way highway.

You looked at Prentiss who was looking at you. Dave was laughing cluelessly. There was only one way to find out if this was your guy and that was to go after the driver. You share a nod with Prentiss and suddenly turn the SUV around for U-turn. This wasn’t the first time you’ve done this and purposefully go off roading for a second to even out the car so you don’t tip over. You thank fed tires for being strong enough to not get stuck in the sand.

“Whoa!” Dave exclaims while grabbing onto the headrest of the passenger seat and the door handle. “What the hell Whitlock?!”

“Camaro that matches the description of our unsub just drove past us,” informs Emily as you start back on the main road to catch up.

“On it,” says Rossi, making a call to the New Mexico State Police.

You work the controls under the automatic gear shift to put in a call to Penelope. The car was synched up to your phone by Bluetooth that was secured on a handsfree mount on the dashboard next to the dash camera.

Her face appears on screen. “Hello my lovelies. What’s up?”

Prentiss speaks up first. “Access the dash cam. We need to ID the car in front of us. Might be our unsub.” And as she finishes saying that the Camaro starts burning rubber and speeds off. “Which has now elevated to probably our unsub,” Prentiss updates.

“Doubt they’re running from a ticket,” Rossi says while announcing different markers on the side of the road so state troopers could intercept.

You hit the accelerator and chase after them. “I need real time reports of traffic. We haven’t seen much but in case this gets messy, I don’t want any civilian injuries.”

“Done and done! Oh yeah … uh, that’s our guy. Plate matches.”

Rossi takes over relaying that information. “We have confirmation that we’re in pursuit of the suspect’s vehicle. New Mexico Plate Tango Charlie One Eight Nine Nine.”

“Wait. You’re driving crazy with Dave in there?”

“Well, yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?” You ask while Penelope brings real time traffic for you as requested on your display.

“Dave you be careful!”

“I’m the one driving, Pen. Shouldn’t you be telling me to be careful?”

“She’s saying I’m old and don’t have a heart attack,” he says for clarification.

“Don’t worry, Queen Penelope,” you say quickly as you close the distance going ninety and climbing. “I’ve got this.”

“Uh, Queen Penelope?”

You hear the guilt in her voice and call her out on it. “Yeah. Why’s that weird? You are the Black Queen.”

“Right! I’m the Black Queen, hence why you’re addressing me as my sovereign title.” And not because of the chat title she gave herself in the secret chat group she made to discuss two of her favorite people she was staring at during a high speed chase.

“Why you acting weird?” you ask, watching the display and the road ahead of you. There are miles of desert in this area and rest stops. So far, the lack of traffic is on your side.

“Why are you?” Penelope says defensively without meaning to.

“Yeah … no. We’re revisiting this later but right now I need to focus.” You cross the solid yellow line into the opposite lane.

“What are you doing?” Prentiss wonders cautiously.

“Gonna say hi.”

Even Rossi was dumbfounded by this. “Say … hi?”

“Yep.” You speed up and follow alongside the Camaro and see Gabriel is white knuckling the steering wheel.

“Well, that’s definitely our guy.” Prentiss confirms and Rossi relays that information to dispatch as well. What she wasn’t expecting is you waving at the suspect. “What on earth are you doing?”

“I told you; I wanted to say hi.” You see Gabriel meet your gaze and watch his brows raise above the sunglasses in what had to be shock. You then grab Prentiss’ lanyard and hold it up. “Tell him to pull over.”

“I just … I don’t even know what to think about you right now.” Prentiss is exasperated and snatches her ID back as Rossi busts out laughing. “Dave! This is not funny.”

“Actually, it’s quite hilarious and technically by the book.” Dave starts explaining to dispatch what was so funny and then frowns noticing movement in the car. “Oh, looks like he’s reaching for something.”

“Probably a gun,” sighs Prentiss. “It’s always a gun. They can never go quietly.”

“Yep, there it is,” you announce, seeing the flash of metal in the desert sun. “Just needed confirmation.” Then you hit the brakes to confuse Arellano and end up behind the vehicle once more.

Dave was hanging on to dear life and almost dropped his phone. “Warn me next time!”

“OH MY GOD YOU ALMOST KILLED DAVE!” Penelope shrieks over the connection.

“I’m not killing anyone! God. You all need to trust me that I know what I’m doing. And thanks for asking if me and Emily are okay, too,” you bark and straighten out the car.

You both zoom past a small gas station leaving a trail of dust behind and as far as you could tell, the road was continued to be clear, and police were still enroute. You had no visuals either way and it was time to change that. “Pen, we’re still alone out here, right?”

“Ah, yes. No civies and police are about ten minutes away from catching up.”

You surmise that if this goes the way it will, either troopers will open fire on the vehicle and end up killing Arellano, set up tire spikes and have you back off but that would alert him that something was up. You’re aggressively tailing him. There’s also the chance they’ll try and barricade him, and he’ll just slam through it and possibly kill someone.

You keep your eyes up ahead and see Arellano poking his head out to open fire several rounds. You swerve out of the way, rocking everyone inside as tires hit desert sand before pulling the car back onto the pavement. At least he only had a handgun he was currently using, though there may be other weapons in the car, but you make your decision.

“You trust me?” you ask, turning to Prentiss.

Without hesitation, she nods firmly. “I do.”

“Shoot the back right tire after I get him to open fire again. With him distracted, I’m hoping he spins …”

“… off the road. The sand should slow him. Car like that’s not made for driving on sand for too long.”

“And then we surround the car to arrest him while he’s in shock,” finishes Dave.

You hit the accelerator and come up to his right, off roading until you catch up to him as Emily rolls down her window. Emily had her gun hidden from view, but the safety was off and ready to go once you gave her the opening.

You nod your head up and salute Arellano with a cocky grin, which pisses him off after he realizes you were right there again. He quickly points the gun at you. You hit the brake while easing off the accelerator, so all Arellano shot was the passenger window, shattering glass pieces everywhere where you now weren’t. You veer back onto the road, the car’s suspension taking the brunt of force for changing terrain so quickly. You saw how frantic Arellano was trying to control the steering wheel and with you keeping him off guard, it left him open for Prentiss who was already leaning out the window and lining up a shot.

She fires one round into the back right tire as planned and immediately you slow down to bring the car around to the left to avoid impact. The tire blows out with a bang and since Arellano was pulling the steering wheel down to the right, the car spins out in a three-sixty once and diverges off the road. In a panic, Arellano hits the accelerator, kicking up sand and with the loss of traction, ends up spinning his good back wheel deeper into soft sand. He was stuck.

Before he could make a decision on what to do next, you already pulled up alongside his car and put it in park to allow Rossi and Prentiss out. They quickly take sides, pointing their guns at him from both front windows.

Rossi was on the passenger side and saw that in the chaos, Arellano lost his gun. The 9mm was laying on the floor mat of the passenger side.

Rossi tsks as he tries to go for it. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Arellano slowly raises his hands, glaring at Rossi with crooked sunglasses. Prentiss keeps the gun training on him while opening the driver’s side. “And you are under arrest Mr. Arellano. Let me list off all the reasons why …”

You were leaning against the SUV with arms crossed watching the state troopers take custody of Arellano from Rossi. It just made sense to wait and hand him off to local authorities, and it was one less thing the BAU had to do. The rest of the team would meet you in the police station in Albuquerque and start the paperwork to tie the case up with a bow for the district attorney.

You became distracted by the sound of the tow truck the troopers called in to take the Camaro. The driver was just finishing attaching the tow hook under the front bumper when you felt another presence join you against the car. You know it was Prentiss, but you honestly had nothing to say to her. Nope. Not even if she still trusted you in the field. Not that it almost made the fight you had in her office sting less.

Emily has her hands tucked into her front pants pockets and watches the car being pulled up the ramp with you. “Your driving was incredible,” she states delicately, testing the waters.

“Thanks.” You then add as an afterthought. “Nice shot.”

“Thanks.”

Silence ensues as you both watch the driver secure the Camaro. You really just want her to go and end this awkwardness, but Prentiss’ stubborn ass is still there.

You hear Emily shift beside you and then a thud. You finally dare to look at her and see her gazing up towards the sky. Silver grey hair was tousled against her shoulders and the car since there was no time for her to put it in a ponytail. Everything happened so fast as the three of you were not prepared for an actionable situation. She looks even more beautiful.

You resist the urge to restart the conversation despite wanting to know what’s on her mind, so you look across the scene and see Rossi looking back at the two of you. He smirks and just walks away and thus, takes away your way out.

Ugh.

“I need to apologize again,” admits Prentiss with a soft voice that takes you by surprise.

You tilt your head slightly while raising your brow. “Won’t hear me arguing.”

She nods. “I deserve that.” You watch her swallow; your eyes dragging along her neck and enjoy the view far too much for your liking before Emily moves her head to catch your gaze. “I am sorry. For the misunderstanding in my office.”

Your eyes squint and give no indication to her if you accept. You need more information. “But why was there one? I mean, I get being miffed that I did my own thing …”

“Miffed?” she questions while cutting you off.

“Put out. Angry. Asserting dominance by being a bitch.” You shrug nonchalantly but Emily heard the underlying hurt in your voice. “Miffed’s being nice, chief.”

“Oh … don’t do that,” Emily says with disappointment.

“Do what?” You know what you did.

“Be all formal like that.”

“Well, I thought we were past all that, but you pulled rank on me.” You didn’t hide the hurt in your voice as you challenged her. “That was Section Chief Prentiss getting pissy with me, so I figured I need to address you that way from now on.”

“But that’s not what I want,” she reveals quickly and that made you pause once your eyes meet brown ones. In that moment, all the sounds became muffled as time slowed. You could feel your heart begin to race under Emily’s intense gaze that were holding all the answers to why your friendship went to shit. You have your suspicions, but it was important to hear it from Prentiss.

“So,” you ask bluntly. “What the fuck do you want? Cuz I’m tried of this bullshit, chief.”

She winces and you hate that as much as you like doing that to her. You want to be vindictive like she was being to you, but in the next breath, you really hate how upset you were making her.

You watch her lips push and pull ever so slightly in thought but somehow, she has the strength not to look away. When her facial features smooth out, you know she comes to a decision and wait for it while holding your breath.

She fists her pants pockets and speaks your name with care. “I want you.”

The air rushes out of your mouth as your chest tightens. You end up playing dumb because you don’t know how to react to this and look away cowardly. “I … what?” Then your defense mechanism kicks in. “Kinda have an audience here, Prentiss.”

She smiles, glad to hear your joke and most importantly you are calling her by her last name again. “Well, I was thinking of a few dates first but hey, we can always give them a show,” she says as her gaze looks out to everyone clearing the scene. She saw Rossi finishing up with a deputy.

“That is the socially acceptable thing to do first,” you agree, then look at her. “But why are you telling me this now? Seems an odd time to do so.”

“That it is.” Her lips press thinly before responding. “I was gonna ask you out last Saturday.”

That made you jerk back and tilt your head in thought. “The day after Fireside?”

“Yes,” she confirms.

“Okay.” You sound as confused as you looked. “Why didn’t you?”

“Well, I was about to when I overheard your speaking with Brian.”

“Brian?” You’re baffled. “What does my conversation with Brian have to -. Oh …” It finally clicks as you remember your conversation about your ‘date’ with Nina. “Prentiss,” you say teasingly and smirk as she blushes. “All this nonsense was cuz you’re jealous?”

“I am not not saying that,” she sneers, but takes a deep breath before nodding. “But … maybe.”

You’re touched and feel yourself beaming. “Thank you for telling me.”

She looks at you pointedly and sees a resolution reflecting in your eyes. Emily frowns. “But?”

“But this isn’t a good idea. Even with me hitting on you in Russian,” you admit sheepishly.

“So, you do remember!” She grins. “Ass.”

You bow your head at that remark to concede the truth of it.

“And just for the record, I’ve been informed that since Brian is your direct supervisor, you wouldn’t be dating your boss,” she answers, anticipating your next response.

Shit.

Do you keep pressing that you work together and it’s a bad idea despite there being no official reason not to have a romantic relationship with one another. Or do you tell her the truth.

You look down at the sand. “I suck at relationships.” You give her a partial truth.

“That’s alright because you’re in luck.” She says your name and you look up to see her smile knowingly. “I suck at them, too. Like, really suck at them. As JJ will confirm, I’m the master of self-sabotage.”

“Wow,” you chuckle. “That’s a helluva thing to admit to someone you’re asking out.”

“Yes, it is.” Emily kicks at the sand nervously since you still haven’t given her an answer either way.

“You know I don’t date. Like, ever.” You admit and hear Emily’s boots shifting quickly in the sand.

“I, uh, didn’t realize that. But you know I appreciate you telling me this up front instead of stringing me along. Or being utterly rude like I was to you.” Emily was starting to spiral and needed to get away from you to recuperate from this raw emotional state. Damn her for assuming you would just magically forgive her and say yes.

“Hey, Emily?” you start but she was still going.

“No, it’s alright. Thank you for this.”  Her smile was all for show, but her eyes were dull and defeated. “We should get Rossi and head back to meet the rest of the te-.”

“Emily, stop!” You say firmly and that halts her from walking away any further. She hesitantly looks at you despite her body thrumming with anxiousness. She was ready to bolt by words or movement. You take a cautious step forward and decide to go all in like Charlie hoped you would. “I mean, I’ve never dated anyone before. Ever.”

Emily quirks a brow as if she didn’t hear that right. “Like … ever?”

“Never, ever.” You kick the sand now and chuckle nervously. “No one came along that mattered.”

Emily’s lips slowly curl into a hopeful smile. “Really? Not even in high school or …?”

You confirm all of that with a nod, which was far more confident than your voice that cracks. “Yep.” With Emily looking so adorable with that admission you look away. “Fuck, Prentiss. Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” she asks taking a step back closer to you with a shit eating, confident grin.

“Fuck it, like that!” you accuse, gesturing at her, with a nervous laugh. Damn her gorgeous smile that just lights up when so thrilled. For once, Emily looks like the weight of the entire world didn’t rest on her shoulders. How could that be because of you?

“So?” she lowers her voice on purpose and stops in front of you, relaxed and back in control of this conversation. You were close enough that if she wanted to, she could reach out and touch you, but she wouldn’t. Not with too many eyes in the vicinity. “Does this mean you’ll allow me the pleasure of taking you out sometime?”

You lick your lips and nervously scratch at the back of your neck, which makes Emily’s eyes light up happily with the effect she was having on you. “Ah fuck it.” You twist your lips, sucking on the lower one as you find the courage to look directly into those gorgeous brown eyes that were distracted by your lips. “Yeah. I’d love to.”

I'm living for the only thing I know I'm running and not quite sure where to go And I don't know what I'm diving into Just hanging by a moment here with you

Hanging by a Moment cont. - Lifehouse

*Off-Highway Vehicle

*Children, Youth & Families Department

*All-Points Bulletin

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[marauroon]

Part 2 to espresso I beg 🙏

W A K E U P C A L L — JAMES POTTER!

a 6am shift at the coffee shop was the last thing you needed after a students’ night out. and james is way too energetic.

james potter x fem!reader (barista!au) | 1.4k | fluff | masterlist.

a/n — no begging necessary ml, i love this au sm

You’re almost falling asleep as you clean out the basin of one of the coffee machines. It should’ve been done by yesterday’s closers, but the universe obviously hadn’t punished you enough by just giving you a 6am opening shift on a Monday morning in the middle of December.

You honestly thought your fingers were going to fall off as you fumbled the front doors unlocked, but now, nestled into the warmth of the overhead heater you really do feel like you could fall asleep where you stand.

You get it to a point, people have places to be and things to do, even at 6 in the morning, but you also have places to be, places being in your bed and not standing behind a counter serving sleep-deprived business men coffee whilst they wait for a train.

But of course, there’s James, bouncing around behind the counter like he’s ready to run a marathon. You can’t figure out how the hell he does it, even after all this time working together. He’s like an Energizer bunny, perpetually full of energy.

“Oi, what’s the matter with you today?” James asks, his voice loud enough to snap you out of your almost-sleepy stupor. He’s grinning, completely unaware that you just want to collapse into the nearest seat and sink into the floor.

You glare at him over the top of the espresso machine. “I’m fine, just living the dream,” you mutter, your voice hoarse with the faintest trace of sarcasm.

James laughs and pulls a fresh batch of croissants from the oven, his movements effortless. It’s as if he’s been awake for hours, yet you know full well that he probably didn’t get much more sleep than you did last night. Between university assignments, the social committee work, and, of course, his infamous club nights, it’s a miracle he’s even functioning.

“Yeah, you look like you’re living the dream,” he teases, his smile never faltering. “You look like you want to crawl under the counter and hibernate.”

You roll your eyes. "You’re so chipper for someone who was at the same club night as me last night."

James shrugs nonchalantly, wiping his hands on his apron before grabbing the next batch to bake. “What can I say? I’ve got an unbreakable constitution. You know that about me.”

You snort, your tiredness momentarily forgotten at the absurdity of his statement. “Unbreakable? James, you’re literally always falling asleep in the running social meetings, I’m pretty sure you just don’t notice how badly you’re functioning.”

“Me? Fall asleep?” He raises an eyebrow, a mock offended expression crossing his face as he hands over a cappuccino to a regular customer. “I’ll have you know that I’m an excellent multitasker.”

“Right.” You’re not buying it. Not when you’ve seen him slumped in the corner of the student union’s meeting room, eyes half-closed, trying to pretend he’s taking notes for the event planning. You swear he’s somehow mastered the art of sleep while looking awake, and you’re in awe of how easily he pulls it off.

“I mean, if you’re tired, I can always take over for you,” James adds, a mischievous glint in his eye. “I’ve got more than enough energy to go around.”

You snort again, the sound escaping before you can stop it. “You’d be a liability on the coffee machine. I can’t risk you having a caffeine overdose and bouncing off the walls like a pinball.”

James grins, unfazed. “That’s just an extra perk! Think of how much more productive we’d be if I was bouncing off the walls. You’d get to be the lazy one, and I’d be the charming one, keeping everyone energised,”

You shake your head, though you can’t help but smile despite yourself. “Right, charming. That’s exactly what we need at 6am.”

The door to the coffee shop opens with a chime, and another customer steps inside, pulling your attention away from James. You greet them automatically, still feeling a bit dazed, your exhaustion not quite gone. As you prepare the next cup of coffee, you try to focus on the rhythm of the morning.

But it’s hard not to notice James in your peripheral vision, his energy contagious despite your best efforts to remain annoyed at him. How does he do it? It’s not just the fact that he’s awake and functioning—it’s that he’s always so alive in everything he does. Whether it’s the running social, the random nights out, or the mornings like this one, he always has that boundless enthusiasm.

“How do you do it?” you ask suddenly, barely catching yourself before you sound too curious. “How are you this... this awake? All the time?”

James doesn’t seem to be caught off guard by the question. He just leans on the counter, watching you carefully with that easy grin of his. “Let me get you onto this magical thing called micronaps,” he says, his voice dropping just slightly, jazz hands and all to sell his ‘idea’. “Otherwise, you can always leech energy from the people around you. Like I do to you.”

“Me?” You’re almost choking on your disbelief. “I’m literally half-dead right now.”

He leans in slightly, lowering his voice as if he’s sharing a secret. “That’s the point, love, I’ve stolen it all,”

You blink. For a moment, you just stare at him, the early morning fog of exhaustion making it harder to process what he’s saying.

“Okay, stop. You’re making me look bad,” you finally mutter, tiredness still edging into your tone. “You’re making fun of me now,”

James just chuckles, ruffling his hair in that way he does when he’s pleased with himself. “What can I say, it’s my favourite pass-time,”

You give him a side-eye, but you can’t quite muster up the same level of annoyance you usually would. Instead, you sigh deeply, rolling up your sleeves as you prepare for the next rush. “Whatever, you win. Happy?”

“Absolutely,” James replies, grinning from ear to ear as he hands over another order.

As the morning drags on, you notice yourself relaxing into the rhythm of the shift. James is right about one thing—he really does have a way of making everything more fun, even when you’re running on fumes. You catch yourself laughing at his jokes more than you want to admit, and despite your grumbling about your lack of sleep, you can’t help but enjoy the banter that flies between you both.

The rest of the morning passes in a blur of customers, coffee machines, and laughter. Every time you catch James’ grin or hear one of his sarcastic remarks, you feel the weight of your exhaustion lift, just a little bit.

By the time your shift ends, the early morning fatigue has started to recede, replaced by a sense of quiet contentment. You’re still tired, no doubt about that, but it’s a kind of good tired, the kind you get after a productive day. And maybe, just maybe, it’s also the result of being around someone whose energy is impossible to ignore, even if you want to.

“So,” James says, tossing his apron into the back room as you both prepare to head out, “same plan for tonight?”

You look at him, suddenly aware of how much time you’ve spent with him lately. “Absolutely not. I’m just glad I made it through this shift.”

He winks, pulling his jacket on. “Come on. Besides, the night’s still young, and the student discount on pints of strongbow is calling my name,”

You shake your head with a laugh. “Yeah, yeah, good for you mate, I’m going to sleep.”

“Boring,” James says, slinging an arm around your shoulder as you both step out into the cold December air. “I’ll see you on the run tomorrow, right?”

You can’t help but smile, even as your thoughts drift to the never-ending list of things to do. “Unfortunately,”

“I’m sure an 8k will wake you from your hibernation,” he grins.

[shitsndgiggs]

FIRST CHRISTMAS TOGETHER - KENAN YILDIZ

Decorating the Christmas tree with Kenan

Kenan Yildiz x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

The smell of cinnamon and pine filled the apartment as I shuffled through the living room, humming along to the Christmas playlist I’d started hours ago.

The lights on the tree blinked lazily, half-strung because I’d gotten distracted sorting ornaments into categories—classic, quirky, sentimental.

Kenan leaned against the kitchen counter, watching me with a bemused expression, a mug of hot chocolate in his hand. “You know you’ve been singing the same verse of that song for the past five minutes, right?”

I turned to him, holding up a glittery star. “That’s because it’s a classic, and I’m keeping the spirit alive!”

He chuckled, setting his mug down and crossing the room to me. He was wearing one of his old hoodies and sweatpants, while I had on my favorite Christmas sweater, complete with a blinking Rudolph nose.

His eyes scanned the chaos I’d created—half-open boxes of decorations, a plate of cookies that were definitely burnt on the edges, and a gingerbread house that looked more like a gingerbread disaster.

“You really go all out, huh?” he asked, gently plucking the star from my hand to inspect it.

“First Christmas living together,” I said, shrugging. “It has to be perfect.”

Kenan’s lips quirked into a smile. “And by ‘perfect,’ you mean… turning the living room into Santa’s workshop?”

“Exactly,” I said, grinning.

He reached down into one of the boxes and pulled out a tiny, lopsided ornament—a hand-painted snowman I’d made as a kid. “What about this guy? Sentimental or quirky?”

“Sentimental,” I replied quickly. “That goes in the middle of the tree. Prime real estate.”

Kenan raised an eyebrow but nodded, walking over to place it carefully on a branch.

As he turned back, I was busy untangling a string of lights, muttering under my breath. “Why do these always end up in knots?”

“You’re overcomplicating it,” Kenan said, taking the lights from me. “Here, let me.”

I crossed my arms, watching as he effortlessly unraveled them. “Show-off.”

He smirked, draping the lights over his shoulders like a scarf before stepping closer to me.

“You know,” he said, his voice low and teasing, “you’re cute when you’re bossing me around about ornament placement.”

I rolled my eyes, but my cheeks warmed. “I’m just making sure the tree doesn’t end up looking like a kindergarten project.”

Kenan chuckled, leaning down to kiss my forehead. “I think it’s gonna look amazing, boss.”

Together, we worked on the tree, his hands steady as he strung the lights while I placed ornaments just so.

Occasionally, he’d sneak one into a spot I’d already declared “off-limits,” just to see if I’d notice. I always did.

When the tree was finally done, we stepped back to admire it. The warm glow of the lights cast a golden hue over the room, and the star at the top sparkled like it was meant to be there.

“See?” I said, nudging him. “Totally worth the effort.”

Kenan wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his side. “You were right,” he admitted softly. “It’s perfect.”

The oven timer beeped from the kitchen, pulling me out of the moment. “Oh no, the cookies!”

I dashed off, and Kenan followed, laughing. When I opened the oven, a plume of smoke greeted us.

“Okay, maybe not so perfect,” I said, fanning the air.

Kenan grabbed the plate of cookies from earlier and held one up. “We’ve still got these.”

“They’re burnt.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he said, breaking one in half and popping it into his mouth. “Still tastes like Christmas.”

I shook my head, laughing as I grabbed a piece of cookie to try.

Later, we curled up on the couch, a blanket thrown over us as we sipped hot chocolate and watched Home Alone for the millionth time.

The tree glowed softly in the corner, and the chaos of earlier felt miles away.

Kenan leaned his head against mine, his hand tracing lazy circles on my knee. “You really love this time of year, don’t you?”

“I do,” I admitted. “It’s just… magical.”

He smiled, his voice soft. “You’re magical.”

I turned to look at him, and before I could respond, he kissed me—a slow, sweet kiss that felt like everything good about Christmas rolled into one moment.