#I’ll figure out how to do the two extra days later
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magicratfingers · 11 months ago
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May !
A monster pinup a day till NYE
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rose-tea-and-strawberries · 8 months ago
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Of Lions and Mice
Leona Kingscholar x Reader
Reader is intended to be female
Masterlist
Leona was annoyed.
Once again, his golden goody-two-shoes older brother decided to shirk his responsibility of being a father and dump the overexcited, disgustingly bright-eyed crown prince on him for the day. And not only that, it had to be today of all days - a rare day where you were free from picking up Crowleys’ slack, where the loudmouthed, nattering extras that always followed you were otherwise preoccupied (and bribed to bugger off with a bag full of tuna), where he was certain he’ll spend the day in bed with you right next to him. 
But no. Just like with everything else in his miserable existence, his dreams were crushed and he had to spend the day playing caretaker to his nephew instead of wrapped up with you. What’s worse was that, you’d decided to carry the pint-sized load off of his back and gave your undivided attention to the cub when it should have been rightfully his. How he hated that selfless nature of yours, that sweet, caring, gentle nature that would make you look at anyone that wasn’t him with that loving gaze, that would make you brush your fingers through Cheka’s golden orange curls the same way you would Grim’s fur or the stray cats you’d find around campus or any other being instead of his mane. 
He hated just how loving you were, how your eyes could see the beauty in everything.
How, now that it’s late at night, and he’s closed his eyes and pretended to sleep in his attempt to actually get some shut eye and so that the little hairball would quit bothering him but Cheka just continues yapping.
Even in the darkness under his eyelids, he could feel you cast a worried look his way from the spot where his bed sags a little.
“Hey Cheka,” your sweet, dulcet voice (which is currently being used to please his nephew and not sooth him to sleep with the sweet nothings it usually does) pipes up, “how about I tell you a bedtime story from my world?”
“A bedtime story?!” Wow, even with his eyes closed he could see the stars coming out of his nephew's eyes, “yes please!”
Once the little cub has settled into bed, he asks you, “do you know any stories from your world with lions in them?
“Any ones with lions? Hmm, well, I suppose I could tell you about Narnia but I think you might be a bit too young for that and - wait,” you punctuated your words with a snap of your fingers, “I know a short one. There was this man called Aesop who wrote these short stories called fables.”
“What’s a fable?” Cheka asked, his words covered in that innocently curious lilt that all six year olds seemed to have during every occasion Leona wished they wouldn’t - and that was all of them.
You, however, seemed to have much more patience than him, “A story with a moral in them. Like, always be honest, or share, or work together, that sort of thing. I had a book of them when I was younger and I really enjoyed reading them.”
Figures. Of course, the shining beacon of sickeningly polite goodness grew up with such stories. He would’ve teased you for that but he had a child who he’s still trying to convince he was asleep.
“That sounds so cool, Aunty Y/N! Will you tell me more?”
“Of course, I will,” he can hear your smile, “but I’ll tell you them later, okay. Now, it’s time for you to rest.” 
“Okay, Aunty Y/N.”
“Alright so,” you clear your throat, “there was once a lion that lay asleep in his den. A shy little mouse came upon him and in her fright she ran away, only whilst doing so she accidentally ran over his head, waking him up.”
“Oh no,” Cheka gasped, “that lion is going to be so angry if he wakes up.”
Oh, so the little hairball does have a brain after all. 
“You’re right. Furious that he had been woken up, the big lion slammed a paw down on the tiny mouse and grabbed her by the tail. Holding her up, he growled at her,” here you made your voice noticeably deeper, trying to imitate a gruff growl, ““How dare you wake me up! I am the king of beasts and anyone who interrupts my slumber deserves to die! I shall kill you and eat you!””
It took everything within Leona to not burst into laughter at your adorable imitation of a ‘big scary lion’. It’s a voice you’ve used before whenever you tease him, playfully repeating the words his old self would have said to you, and it’s one that he’s rather fond of. 
He loves and respects you, Herbivore, and he’s the first to attest to your formidability and capability - even though you have the annoying tendency to not only blur the line between bravery and reckless stupidity but also play skipping rope with it - but intimidating you are not. 
“This scared the terrified mouse even more. Shaking with fear, she begged for him to let her go,” you make your voice higher at this part, squeaking in a way that oddly suited you, in Leona’s not so humble opinion, ““please, your majesty, I beg of you, please don’t eat me. It was only a mistake and if you let me go I’ll be sure to repay you. If you spare my life one day, I might even save yours.””
“The lion looked at the tiny creature and laughed, amused at how such a small mouse could ever be of use to an animal as powerful as him, “You? Save me? How absurd. You’ve made me laugh and put me in a good mood so I shall be generous and let you go.”
“Thank you, your majesty, thank you,” the mouse squeaked as she was put back on the ground, before scurrying away as fast as fast as her little legs could carry her.”
“Yay, so the mouse is free.” Cheka giggled.
“He is,” you said, “but there’s still more left. A few days later, the lion was prowling around when out of nowhere he was caught in a hunter’s net. Try as he might, he couldn’t get out of it. He tossed and turned, roaring angrily as he struggled to escape.”
“Wait, so now the lion’s in trouble. How’s he going to get out?” Cheka asked in worry. 
“You’ll see. Hearing his cries, the mouse followed the sound, recognising it from the lion he met earlier.
“I have to help him,” she squeaked as she scampered towards him.”
Upon seeing the lion in the net, she said, “hold still your majesty, I’ll get you out!”
And she quickly started to nibble on the ropes with her sharp little teeth, biting until all they broke apart. It wasn’t long until the lion was free.”
“So the mouse saved him. Was it because the lion helped him earlier?”
“It certainly was Cheka. “Thank you, little mouse,” the lion said, “I laughed at you and didn’t think you could ever help me but you saved my life.”
“It was my turn to help you.” The mouse replied, ”never forget that even a creature as small as a mouse can help a lion.”
And that’s the end,” you say.
“Thank you, Auntie Y/N, I really enjoyed that. Do you think the lion and mouse became friends after that?”
“You are very welcome, Cheka. I think they did. They did help each other, after all. Now I think it’s time to go to sleep.”
And once you were sure that the crown prince was asleep, you made your way next to your boyfriend, running your fingers through chestnut locks, “did you enjoy that little story, Leona.”
He opens his eyes to see your endeared smile. Rolling over so that he could wrap his arms around your waist he muses, “it seems awfully familiar don’t you think? A scared little herbivore wakes up a sleeping lion and ends up saving him later.”
“I’ll have you know, Your Highness, that I was never scared of you. Even when you were a rude old brute who threatened to knock out one of my teeth. And I’m certainly not little.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.” 
He pulls, letting you flop down on his bed beside him so that he can spoon you.
“Sweet dreams, little mouse,” he kissed your forehead, “I hope you know that I don’t ever intend on letting you go. Not after you helped in ways you could never even imagine.”
And so the lion fell asleep, holding the prey who rescued him from the confinement of his past safely in his arms.
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garoujo · 1 year ago
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✩ ˛˚ . GOJO SATORU ; — you can’t help but feel a little upset thinking that your boyfriend has forgotten your anniversary.
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ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ warnings! f!reader, none, fluff! although it gets a tiny bit hawt at the end! ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! an anon suggested this drabble idea literally like sometime last year + the new szn finally gave me some motivation to write it! i hope u see this!
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3 years.. 3 years and gojo didn’t leave you with so much as a “happy anniversary” as he left this morning. you’d have even taken an extra smack on the ass during your usual morning makeout session, the taste of his two sugar’s too sweet coffee on his tongue as it twists with yours and his hands on your waist.. but that’s it, that’s all???
so now you’re here, angrily stomping back to your shared apartment after the few errands you had to run today because you took the day off to celebrate. but your dumb, stupidly handsome boyfriend doesn’t even know what for as he rambles on the other side of the phone.
“can feel you poutin’, what’s gotten into my sweet girl? hm?” gojo hums like hes thinking about something, his same sickly sweet tone dripping through you like honey despite the way you want to be mad at him right now— you would’ve ignored the call all together, just to be petty if you didn’t know he’d turn up at the door a second later.
“nothing. i’m just almost home that’s all.” you’re lying and you know he can tell, he always could. he could pick up every slight, little change in your attitude like he seen right through you.
“oh yeah? nothing at all on your mind?” gojo drawls again, there’s a teasing lull to his voice and it makes your pout puff out even more before he breathes out a low chuckle and sighs. “and here i thought you were mad at me. you almost made me cry at work— who would take me seriously then, huh?”
“you’re not funny.” you huff out, short and a little clipped as you finally come to a stop infront of your apartment door — fiddling with your keys in your hand while your pout still rests on your features.
“you sure?”
you really can’t be bothered playing gojo’s games right now and as amusing as he seems to find himself, it’s only making you burn hotter — making your stomach twist with the lump in your throat that you’ve been fighting to keep down all day. you don’t want to get upset, but it meant a lot to you.
you just wanted him to maybe put in a little effort on the one day that you guys really get to celebrate eachother.
“positive. so i’m gonna g—“ you can barely finish your own spiralling, upsetting thoughts before your snapped response through your phone fades on your tongue. but suddenly, the tears youd been fighting to hold back all day seem to come so ruthlessly, gathering along your lashes as you gaze onto the ocean of red that greets you as you open the door.
you’re not sure how many bouquets there are waiting for you there. hundreds? thousands? sitting pretty along the floor, decorating the shared space so beautifully that you don’t even realise that you’ve gone quiet. ofcourse gojo would do something like this, and suddenly you feel a little silly for even doubting him.
“ah, fine. i guess i’ll get the guy to come pick all of those back up then, huh, sweet thing?”
but the smooth tone that sounds from your phone speaker sounds a little louder, closer when it’s accompanied by a long arm wrapping around your waist from behind as kisses are pressed up the side of your neck.
“but, you—“ you try but you feel so overwhelmed, so full of love as gojo’s large figure drapes over you from behind. his face is stuffed into the crook of your neck and you can feel the way his crooked smile sits on his features as it presses against your skin. he feels warm, although you’re sure he’s more than smug right now when he pulls away with an exaggerated gasp that cuts off your sentence.
“as if you’re perfect, good looking boyfriend would ever forget. what do you take me for, hm?” you giggle at that despite the way he’s teasing you again, squeezing at your sides until you’re meeting his gaze and you’re sure you must look so in love when you notice the way his features soften slightly.
“happy anniversary, princess.” gojo grins as he leans into kiss you breathless, twisting into your mouth as his tongue pushes past your lips and you almost rock back with how dizzy he makes you feel. but his hands are on your hips, keeping you close against his chest with a stability that you’d always found in him.
another long press of his lips with yours and you whimper sweetly as he pulls away to look at you, pretty gaze glowing slightly from under the snowy peaks of his hair before he’s smirking again, maybe a little wider this time.
“you gonna laugh f’ me when i tell jokes again? i can feel the tears threatening to start again.” he’s like a professional when his cheeky grin twists into an exaggerated pout, making you laugh again— a little harder this time before you’re pinching at his cheeks playfully and bringing him in for another quick kiss.
“you’re such a dork.” you tease and gojo groans against your lips like he’s offended.
“mmm, no thank you? oh i’m hurt, sweet girl. what’ll i do with you now, hm?” the look he gives you as he pulls away is suspicious, a raised brow as his head falls to the side and he really looks like he’s considering it. until the next moment his large palm is coming down heavy on your ass before his next handful squeezes.
“satoru!” you squeal but that only seems to make him chuckle as he leans down to kiss you again, rougher this time despite the way you’re both smiling giddily into the shared, messy press of eachother. almost too quickly finding yourself pressed up against the wall in the hallway as he melts into you.
“let’s see! oh, i’ve got a few ideas.”
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© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.
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faithisyours · 4 months ago
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Can’t Imagine Losing You
Azriel x Fem!reader
Summary: Azriel’s been acting moody lately, and you've had enough.
Warnings: ANGST! but also fluff. Smut, smut, SMUT! possessive Az, whimpering whiny Az, sort of a switch dynamic between the two, P in V, coming inside, oral both receiving, some ass stuff, i think that's it, not proof read
Word Count: 4.5k
A/N: Hey y’all! Sorry for being MIA. Here’s another fic as a peace offering. I wanted to try some angst so hopefully I did it right. This whole thing took so many turns. Hope it's comprehensible. If you have any requests for fics you'd like me to write, I'm all ears (i need ideas, please I’m begging). As always, minors go away. Majors, enjoy!
“I have some work I need to do at the House of Wind today. It shouldn't take long.”
You were sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast, enjoying the warm summer breeze coming in through the open window when Azriel informed you he had to leave. You were disappointed, but not at all surprised. It seemed like there was always something to do, some report needing finished or some training schedule needing tweaked. And it was always your mate who needed to do it, especially on his off days, it seemed.
“Can you stay for breakfast at least?” you asked, infusing your words with hope to mask the disappointment.
“I’m sorry, my love, I can’t. I’ll see you later.” He pressed a swift kiss to the top of your head before practically running out the door. There was no, “I’ll make it up to you later,” or, “How about breakfast tomorrow?” or even an, “I love you,” before he had disappeared.
Instances like this had been happening more frequently over the past couple years, but recently it had gotten out of hand for you. You had been mated to Azriel for over a century at this point, and had known each other far longer than that. You originally assumed that these instances were caused by Azriel being distracted by his work. Being the spymaster for the Night Court was a lot to manage. But more recently you had begun to wonder if the spark had dimmed for Azriel. If he had started to feel differently than he had when you two were first mated.
You decided that tonight you would bring up your concerns with him. You prayed to the Mother it was only because he was so busy and not because he had begun to feel differently about being mated to you. For now, though, you finished your breakfast, put away the extra food you had made for Azriel, and got ready for your day.
Since Azriel wasn’t going to be home until later, you figured you could get some errands done while he was away. Azriel had been running low on his sleep tonic for a while now, so you decided to stop by your favorite apothecary and pick him up another one. While you were out, you figured you could stop by the market and get some more wine to replenish the stash you and the other ladies of the Inner Circle had drained not too long ago. You also picked up some ingredients you would need for dinner tonight.
It was nearing noon when you decided to head back home, but as you were making your way back, you passed the shop you had gotten your favorite lingerie set from. It couldn’t hurt, you thought, to go in and look around. It had been a while since you got a new set, and you thought you should treat yourself. If you found something you liked, of course. And as soon as you walked in, a rich purple satin set caught your attention. It was perfect; simple yet sexy, and looked rather comfortable as well. It had criss-cross straps that circled around the back and waist, to connect to the bottoms, which were detailed with black lace on the hips. You didn’t have a purple set yet, and you thought maybe Azriel would like it too. Maybe if things went well tonight you would let him see it.
You made your way home, purchases in hand, including that satin set, and hoped by the time you got there that Azriel would be home. But he wasn’t. You entered an empty home, warm yet breezy from the window you had left open, and started unloading your purchases. You put the wine on the rack, the ingredients for dinner on the kitchen table, and Azriel’s sleep tonic on his bedside table. Lastly, you fished that purple satin set out of its bag and tried it on.
You didn’t bother trying it on in the store because you already knew your measurements and didn’t want to bother anyone anyway. Just like you suspected, it was incredibly comfortable, and it fit you like a glove. Exhaustion washed over you then, even though it was a little past noon. Going out to run errands always seemed to suck the energy right out of you.
You didn’t bother taking off the set, but instead rifled through Az’s shirt drawer to find your favorite one of his, a flowy black cotton button down, and threw it on. Even though Az wasn’t here right now, you still wanted to feel close to him, hence the shirt. You curled yourself up on his side of the bed, enveloped in the comfort of his scent, and closed your eyes. The last thought you had before falling asleep was hoping this whole thing was a misunderstanding.
You awoke to the sound of a door slamming. You sat up, wiped the sleep from your eyes, and made your way towards the kitchen, the most likely source of the noise. You saw Azriel, leaning over the kitchen sink looking out the window. You glanced at the clock above the hearth, noting you had been asleep for about 4 hours.
“Hey Az,” you said groggily, “Sorry I didn’t meet you at the door, I was taking a nap. Did you just get home?” you asked, walking closer to him. He gave you a grunt in response. You noticed his shadows swirling agitatedly around him, making you stop in your tracks. “Az, are you okay? Did something happen?” A million thoughts cycled through your head in seconds. Did something happen at work? Are Cassian and Rhys okay? Is he mad at you? Did you forget something he asked you to get at the market?
“I’m fine. I don’t want to talk about it.” His answers were clipped, monotone. “I'll be in our room.” he pushed off from the sink and brushed right past you, not even bothering to look you in the eye, give you a kiss, or look even the slightest bit apologetic for his attitude.
“I got you more sleeping tonic. It’s on your bedside table,” you informed him. You got a closing bedroom door in response.
You had a lot of patience. You prided yourself on the amount of patience you had. But it was warring paper thin for your mate. You decided to make dinner to take your mind off it, and to hopefully give him time to calm down. It’s not like he’d never been moody before, but this was a little much. He was starting to act like a teenage son, not your mate.
Thirty minutes later dinner was done and on the table. You went over to your bedroom door, still closed, and knocked, then poked your head in.
“Dinner is done. I made one of your favorites,” you informed Azriel, who was just walking out of the connected bathing room when you had poked your head in. He had changed into something more comfortable since the last time you saw him.
“Be right out,” he responded, glancing at you as he said it.
You walked back out to the kitchen table and began to load up both your plates with food. Azriel joined you just as you sat down. He immediately started eating, seemingly not concerned that the food was still hot enough to burn his mouth. And it looked like you would be carrying the conversation this evening.
“Was everything alright at the House of Wind today?” you pried, hoping the question came off as inconspicuous.
“Everything is fine. It’s handled now,” he offered, still shoveling food into his mouth.
“Alright. Good. I just wanted to -”
He cut you off. “Can we just eat in silence please? It's been a long day.” The words were stern, but his tone was soft, tired. You paused at his words, letting them sink in. Maybe this was just a bad day for him. Maybe he would be better tomorrow. Maybe this conversation should wait, if he’s pretty tired already. But how long had this gone on? How long have you wanted to say something about it?
“No,” you said simply. He paused, a fork-full stopped midway between his plate and mouth. Finally, he looked at you. “No, we’re not going to sit in silence. I have something I want to talk about. And I realize you may have had a shitty day, but I also had a day. I did things I want to talk with you about. I’ve wanted to have a conversation with you since this morning. So, no, actually. I’m not going to sit here in silence. Okay?” You stayed staring into his hazel eyes until you got a nod, but you wanted his answer in words. So you kept gazing into those hazel eyes until you got one.
“Okay. Alright,” he said, lowering his fork and pushing away from the table slightly, keeping his eyes on you. “What did you want to talk about, Love?”
His use of that endearment almost makes you reconsider this conversation. Almost. “I wanted to talk about your workload. And how it’s affecting me. And your treatment of me.” He only nodded, encouraging you to continue. “I feel like your workload doesn’t leave time for us anymore. It seems like the amount of stuff you have to do on a daily basis is way more than it used to be. You barely get any time off, and even on your days off you still have to do something. Like today. And I want to know if that’s how you feel, too.” You gave him time to consider.
He cleared his throat. “I like to stay busy. You know that. I haven’t noticed an increase in my duties, but even if there has been, I’m not sure if there is anything I could do about it. Everyone’s plate is already full. I can talk to Rhys about allocating jobs, but I can’t make any promises.”
You nodded, if only to give you something to do. That was not the answer you wanted to hear, but you could work with it. You wanted to broach your next point, but you were scared he wouldn’t take it well. You took a deep breath. “This… this leads me into my next point. I feel like…I feel as though you haven't been treating me how I want to be treated recently. Like sometimes I get my mate Az, and other days I get Azriel the shadowsinger. Or I get moody, likes-to-slam-doors Az who can’t bother to answer his mate in full sentences because he's too pissed off at something he doesn’t even want to tell me, his mate, who he should be able to tell everything to, even if it “doesn’t concern me.”” Your voice had started to rise, but you couldn’t help it. You were angry. “And this was why I wanted to talk about your workload. It feels like you’re getting upset more because you have more to do, which in turn makes you unintentionally take it out on me. you regard me as a permanent fixture in this house, but I am not. I will leave if I am not treated the way I deserve. And Gods, Azriel, I hope that this is the only reason, that it is only because of you working too much, because if it’s something else, if it has to do with your feelings towards me changing, I don’t…I don’t even…” you trailed off, holding back a sob that had started climbing your throat.
Azriel was now standing, making his way over to you. He knelt down right in front of you, taking your hand in his, his eyes, full of worry and confusion, searched yours for answers. “Okay, alright, you’re right. I have been acting like a jerk to you recently. And I’m so sorry for that. Truly. Work has been a lot to deal with recently, but that’s no excuse. I'll talk to Rhys about getting more time off. So I can spend it with you, alright? But how could you think my feelings have changed? How could you even think that?” His look was incredulous.
You swallowed the lump in your throat, or rather, tried to. “We’ve been mated for a century. A lot can happen in that amount of time. I thought maybe…maybe the spark was dimming for you. Maybe you changed your mind. About me. About us. And if you did, that would be alright. I would live with that, if it made you happy.” You work your confession out between sobs. “I just…I guess I just got scared. I don't want to lose you.”
His eyes were still on yours, but the emotion in them had shifted. Now they were full of anger. Not anger for you, but rather anger at himself. How could he treat you like this? In a way that made you think he did not love you anymore. He had failed, he realized. He was failing you, your relationship, your trust in him. He had to fix this, had to try harder. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said with conviction, no room left for argument. “I love you. So much. More now than I did a century ago. Every day I love you more. I didn’t even think that was possible, but with you it is. You’re not getting rid of me even if you wanted to, okay? I’m staying, and I’m going to try harder, get more days off, spend them all with you. You’re the love of my life, ya? Nothing will change that.” He pulled you into a hug, kissed away your tears, and kept kissing you until your cheeks were dry.
He kissed you one more time, hard, on the cheek, then went back to his side of the table and sat down. He thanked you for dinner, asked about your day, what all you did, and in turn told you what had happened at the House of Wind. Apparently one of the Illarian camps had started some fights with another camp over space and resources. Rhys had thought it was taken care of, but there was another fight today, which resulted in Azriel having to go over there, break it up, and be the peacekeeper longer than he wanted. Hence him coming home late and in a pissy mood.
“You’re wearing my shirt,” he stated, cutting off your story of you in the market today. It wasn’t a conscious thought to cut you off. He had only just now realized you were wearing his shirt, and basically nothing else. He had been so distracted by what had happened today and you bringing up your concerns that he hadn’t even noticed. Possession coiled in his stomach like a serpent strangling its prey. Seeing you in his clothes, even though it was a rare occurrence, always made him hard. He couldn’t help it. Your strong, soft body wrapped in his shirt, the sleeves rolled up to your elbows, exposing all that lickable skin. It made his knees buckle.
“Is that okay?” you asked tentatively. He was looking at you now like a starved man, which you knew he wasn't, given the finished plate of food before him. You rarely wore his clothes, mainly because you swam in them due to how big they were on you. You guessed he was just surprised to see you in something of his, but that didn’t explain the heat in his gaze. “I put it on after I got home from running errands. I wanted to take a nap and I figured you weren’t using it so…” you explained, trailing off.
“You’ve been wearing my shirt all day. Only my shirt.” It wasn’t a question. More like a repetition of the fact in order to understand. But it wasn’t just his shirt you were wearing. As he said it he noticed the purple strap poking out by your shoulder. A purple strap. You didn’t own any purple undergarments. “What is that?” he asked, his gaze burning a hole in your shoulder.
Before you could even answer him he said, “Purple. You don’t own anything purple.” His gaze was lighting you on fire, his eyes full of slow understanding, pupils blown wide with lust.
You got up from your chair, pushing your empty dinner plate slightly forward, and walked around the kitchen table to his side to stand right in front of him. “Well, while I was out,” you started, your voice low and seductive, “I passed by that shop, you know, the one I got that royal blue set from.” Azriel knew exactly what you were talking about. Remembered your squirming form underneath him while you were in that set. He was starting to feel lightheaded from how much of his blood had gone to his crotch. “And I figured it wouldn’t hurt to go in and see if they had anything as good as that royal blue set.” You were teasing him now, you knew it. But it was so fun, you couldn’t help yourself.
“Please, my love. Please let me see it. Let me see you,” he begged, winned. It was music to your ears. He was so hard it looked like it hurt. He had started slipping off his chair onto his knees in front of you, his scarred hands coming up to grip your hips. He was actually begging.
“You want to see it?” you taunted. He nodded, swallowing audibly. “Alright, but no touching. Not yet.” You pushed his hands off your hips, which was more difficult than you thought it would be, and began unbuttoning the shirt. Each button you worked to undo made Azriel’s breathing heavier, until he was practically panting. His hands were clenched so tightly at his sides you were sure his fingernails would leave marks on his palms.
You felt like a goddess; the man you adored more than anything knelt at your feet, completely enraptured by you, in awe of all you are. You reached the last button, undoing it achingly slowly, just to see your mate break out in a sweat. His hands were clenching his thighs hard enough to bruise, his chest heaved like a dying man, and the only thing shining in his eyes was need. Need for you, need to touch you, need to be buried in you until neither of you could tell where one ended and the next began. Azriel was a gentleman, but right now, here in front of you, he was the embodiment of pure animalistic lust. One word from you and he would snap. Just how you liked him.
You let the shirt part, giving him a nice view of the valley between your breasts, as well as the crossing straps and lower, to where those straps connected. You dragged one side of the shirt down off your shoulder, then repeated the movement on the other side. Finally, you let the shirt drop off of you, leaving you only in that purple set. You stepped closer to him, and caressed his face with your hand.
“Please.” It was barely a whisper, but you heard it, saw his lips part to form the word. His eyes were pleading with yours. He needed you. Now.
“Okay,” was all you said before he was on you, standing, gripping your hips, kissing you, running his hands over all that satin. He was everywhere all at once, biting your lips, coaxing moans from your throat, groaning over the feel of you, and you reveled in it all. His hands came around the back of your thighs, and suddenly you were being picked up and carried down the hall, towards your shared bedroom.
You were placed gently onto the bed, which was still rumpled from your nap earlier. Azriel leaned over you, taking you all in. “I love the purple, but I need you naked,” he said, peppering your jaw with kisses. You reached down to your hips and unhooked the straps from the panties. Azriel quickly figured out how to get your top off, and in a matter of seconds he was dragging the purple satin down your breasts just so his hands and lips could cover them again.
He took one of your nipples into his mouth, rolled the other between his fingers, and sucked and licked and pinched and bit till your chest was littered with marks from him. All the while, moans and whimpers poured out of you. Azriel reveled in the divine sounds you made, the sounds he made you make.
He made his way down your body, drawing closer and closer to where you needed him most.
“Please, baby. Please let me taste you,” he whispered, pleaded, begged. You gave him confirmation, that one word he needed to hear, then he was dragging those purple satin panties down your legs and throwing them across the room. He parted your legs, exposing your glistening core to him. The look in his eyes was that of absolute hunger. He didn’t bother with teasing you. He put his tongue right on your cunt, giving you no time to adjust or think before he licked a stripe from your entrance to your clit, spreading your arousal across his tongue.
You propped yourself up on your elbows so you could watch him; watch as he devoured you, drank from you, absolutely consumed you. He licked and sucked at your clit, brought it between his teeth, and eased the bite with more licks. Your head fell back as you moaned his name, lost in the pleasure he was giving you. Sooner than you even thought possible, you were on the edge of release, that coil in your belly drawing tighter and tighter. Without warning, Azriel slid a finger into you, curling it in a way that had you falling apart. He added a second, and it was your undoing.
You came with Azriel’s name on your lips. He worked you through your pleasure, continued to lick and suck till you were shaking from overstimulation. You pushed his head away, but he wouldn’t budge. He kept on licking you, drinking every drop of your release straight from the source. You were boneless, soar from overstimulation, but you could feel another orgasm rising within you.
Azriel moaned from the taste of you, the vibration making your hips buck. He continued to work his fingers into you, curling perfectly to reach that spot that made you scream. Profanities and pleads and promises poured from your mouth, but Azriel didn’t stop until you were coming again, on his fingers, on his face, on his tongue. Finally, after drinking every last drop of your essence, he worked his way back up to your mouth.
He kissed you until you came back to reality, until your limbs regained function. You kissed him back, moaning from the taste of yourself on his tongue. And then you were pushing him onto his back, straddling his hips to keep him there. He struggled a bit, pointing to his pinned wings, but you only smiled at him. “Is the Illarian baby pinned?” you taunted him. He stopped struggling, but instead glared at you. So you dragged a finger down one of the veins in his wings, and a moan slipped past his lips.
“That's what I thought,” you muttered. He was still fully clothed, and the contrast of your nakedness only spurred you on further. You kissed him, long and deep and unhurried, while you unbuttoned the length of his shirt. He broke the kiss to shed his shirt, so you turned your attention to unlacing his pants. While you worked, he kissed and nipped your neck, working marks into your soft flesh. You worked his pants down his legs, aided with Azriel’s help, and eventually he was naked underneath you.
You pressed him down to lay flat on the bed, then started your journey down towards his hard length. As you worked your way down, you liked and sucked and bit until his skin was littered with marks, just like yours was. You scraped your nails down his arms, down his sides, till he was shivering from your touch.
Kneeling now between his legs, guided a hand towards his length while you kissed his hips and rolled the skin between your teeth. His hips bucked at the fist fell of your hands on him, which made you smile. “So responsive,” you purred, then licked him from base to tip. He let out a moan that had your thighs rubbing together. With your tongue, you licked up the bead of precum that had frond, then promptly took as much of him into your mouth as you could.
Azriel speared his fingers through your hair, not to control your head but to steady himself. Your mouth was a dream to him; warm and wet and perfect. Second best only to your cunt. You hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper and deeper into your mouth until he was hitting the back of your throat. Az was panting at this point, his skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Your mouth felt so good, but he needed to be inside you.
“I’m gonna…please…I need to be inside you,” he panted out. You pulled your mouth off him with a pop, then gave him one last lick before you climbed your way back up to him. You kissed him, mainly just so he could taste himself on you. Then you positioned your hips just above his, readying yourself to sink onto his length.
Using his hand, he parted you, spreading your slick on you and on his hand. He eased you onto his cock slowly, letting you adjust to him. Every time you took him, it was an adjustment. You hoped that would never change. You both made an obscene noise when he was finally, completely in you.
“You want to be filled, baby?” he asked as he ran the fingers he had parted you with down between your ass cheeks. Yes, you wanted to be full of him, wanted to be overwhelmed by him, wanted to feel him everywhere. You nodded. “Words, love,” he chided softly.
“Yes, please Az,” you wined. That was all you had to say before he worked his fingers into you, using your slick on his fingers as lube. He gripped your hips with the rest of that hand and the other, a bruising grip that was sure to leave bruises.
Azriel was sitting up slightly now, and even though you were on top of him, he set the pace. Slow rolls of your hips guided by his hands started you off. All you could think about was how full of him you were, how overwhelming the feeling of him everywhere was. Your pace quickens, spurred on by your whimpers and his moans. Your eyes were locked with eachothers, and within Azriel’s you saw his bottomless pool of love for you. His pupils were blown wide, and so were yours.
You kissed him, hard, and he returned it even harder. You’re moaning into eachothers mouths, the only goal being to guide each other to your peaks. You could feel that ache building, that need for release drawing closer and closer. Azriel could feel it too, reveling in the way your walls gripped him. He shifted his free hand around to play with your clit, and then you were coming, harder than you had in a while, cresting on a silent scream.
Azriel was right behind you, fucking sloppily into you until you were gripping him so tightly he could barely move. He came, chanting your name like a prayer, until his voice went hoarse.
You both laid there, panting and boneless, for minutes or hours or days, you couldn't tell. Eventually he guided you off of him, pulling out of you with a hiss, to lay you next to him. He gave you a kiss on the cheek before getting up to go to the bathing room. You heard the sound of water rushing into the tub, and in the next minute Azriel came back in, picked you up bridal style, and whisked you into the bathing room.
He set you down gently into the warm water then joined you, settling in right behind you. He pulled you back so your back was against his chest, then proceeded to wash you with a soapy cloth. When he was done you returned the favor, batting his hand away when he tried to protest. You finished up in the bath, dried each other off, then slipped into some sleeping clothes and then bed.
“We’re okay, right?” he asked, pulling you closer to him. Your heart melted, warmed by the idea that he wanted to make sure.
Yes, Az. We’re all good,” you replied, giving him a kiss on the nose.
“Okay. good,” was all he said before he tucked you tighter into him and you both fell asleep.
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fandomscombine · 6 months ago
Text
New Kid
Spencer Reid x Reader
BG: It’s your first day at the BAU and meeting the team. The team is surprised with how you’re hitting it off with a certain Doctor but what they don’t know is that a bigger surprise is yet to come.  
A/N: My first Criminal Minds/Spencer Reid Fic! It’s been sitting in my drafts for over a year now and finally tied an ending together. (Are we over a 2-year writing slump? We’ll see!)
Honestly it’s pure season 1/season 2 team fluff crack and chaoticness! Wanted to capture the early seasons team dynamics. Hope you all enjoy!
Fun fact, it’s all the Spencer Reid x Reader fics that kept popping in my recommendations that I started reading and falling in love with Reid prior to starting the show!
WC: 1307
>>>GENERAL MASTERLIST<<<
>>>CRIMINAL MINDS MASTERLIST<<<
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This is it. Your first day as a Special Agent in the Behavioral Analysis Unit. Growing up reading detective stories and solving mysteries were your favorite pastimes. 
You’re grateful for having a family environment that was supportive of your thirst for knowledge and endless curiosity.
The receptionist has informed you that the team is waiting for you upstairs, ready to give your orientation tour.
"Thanks." You replied, half mildly picking at your nails. In just an elevator ride away, you'd be in the midst of the smartest profilers alive. And nothing goes unnoticed – that you know very well.
A vibration in your pocket breaks your thoughts. A smile slips to your face. 
"Stop picking at your fingers." The voice on the other line says.
"Hello to you dad." You can't help but roll your eyes. "I wasn't even–" You look down at your left hand. Shit. "How'd you even know?" 
"I just do, I watched you grow up for 25 years." 
"Yea yea."
"Hey kid, sorry I couldn’t be there—“
“You’ve got a whole auditorium full of nerds dying to hear your lectures, I understand.” The door in front of you opens and you step inside.
“Thanks kid. I’ll make it up to you. How does an extra large, extra saucy lasagne sound?”
“Oooh yes, don’t forget with extra cheese!” The monitors indicate: 3/F, 4/F, 5/F.  “By the way, you’ve told them right?” As you step out, you spot a group of agents handled near the department entrance. “Anyway I’ll see you later, gotta go. Bye.” Quickly cutting the line off, not wanting to seem unprofessional, chatting on the phone.
“Special Agent y/m/n?” Said the brunette.
You opted to be referred to by your first and Mother’s maiden name, when you first started out. Wanting to stand on your own merits and making a name for yourself.
“That’s me.” 
“Special Agent Greenaway, this is Agent Jareau, and Agent Garcia.” You shake hands with the two agents “Call me JJ” 
But you are quickly engulfed into a hug by the third, which you have to admit took you by surprise.  “You can call me Penelope.-- Opps sorry, just excited to have another female member in the team!” You give her a warm smile, patting her shoulder, “No worries, Penelope. Just caught me off-guard.”
“Come on, let’s meet the rest of the team.” JJ says, leading you all into the bullpen.
“So this would be your desk right here” points Agent Greenaway. “Which is right across from Agent Morgan–”
“Derek, Derek Morgan m’ beautiful lady.” cuts in the man. 
You can’t help but blush from the compliment. “You always flirt with the new kid, huh Derek?” You challenge, playing off his energy. 
“Ignore him,” 
“Cmon’ Elle. It’s all good fun!”
Elle directs you to a hunched figure behind Derek.
“This is our resident genius, Dr. Spencer Reid.”  She points to Reid, who is preoccupied with a lego model to have noticed the group. 
“Dr. Reid! I’ve heard so much about you!” Reaching out your hand, to grab his attention. His head instantly shoots up, eager to know the culprit who distracted him from finishing this model of the Delorean and give them a piece of his mind.
“Hey! I was just finishing -.” His voice trails off upon realizing that A. it wasn’t one of his teammates making fun of his legos but instead a face he doesn’t recognize and B. feeling bad on being the reason why your bright smile turned into a frown. “Oh Sorry! Sorry Ms–”
“y/m/n” Your father had shared stories about the team, especially Spencer, his protege. He was the person you were most excited to meet, though with this first interaction - you were discouraged with how it went. Perhaps you shouldn’t have run multiple scenarios on how you’d wow the team with such high standards. 
Dropping your arm, eager to quickly change the subject, you turn to Elle. “ So what cases do we –”
“y/m/n? As in y/f/n y/m/n!?” Spencer exclaims, his eyes wide. Big hand gestures dancing through the air as he raved.  “ The author of ‘The Correlation Between The Probability of Sudden Adult Anger Outburst and Childhood Familial Upbringing.’ ?
You’d had your thesis quoted back to you by professors and peers, but never with such childlike wonder written all-over Spencer’s face, making you blush. “Yes! But how -”
“I’ve read so much about you! Your work, I mean.” Spencer isn’t normally affected by how he’s perceived by others. Spitting out facts in the speed of light is synonymous to his identity and it’s nothing he’s ashamed of. But it's rare to have someone beautiful and intelligent be into the same niche interests that he has. Spencer only has one shot on not coming on as weird and it’s not going well, so he elaborates.  “I got it from Gideon’s pile. I picked it up on a whim but your writing is spectacular! I read through it in 12 mins!”
“Wait, you read through my 250 page dissertation in under 12 mins?” You questioned, looking around the team to check if you’ve misheard. 
“Affirmative. It would have been faster, but I was jotting down some notes.”
“Notes, huh?” Crossing your arms, the paper had gone through multiple reviews from your professors before submission. It should be damn near perfect. “Alright, Doctor Reid. I’m interested, how about you show me your notes over coffee?”
“Actually…” Spencer raised his finger, interjecting. “It might take a bit longer than an hour and I would love to dig into your brain. Perhaps we could go over it at dinner?”
“Name the time and place.” You grabbed the nearest post-it and quickly wrote down your phone number. “Now will you excuse me, I believe I’m late for my introductory meeting with Agent Hotchner.” 
With that you broke away from the make-shift team circle and headed you to Hotch’s office, leaving the team still frozen in their spot.
Derek was the first to speak. “Did pretty boy just ask out the new girl without stuttering and succeed?”
“Good, so everyone else witnessed that too right?” Added Penelope. 
JJ nodded in agreement, too stunned to speak as if it would break the illusion.
“What?” Spencer’s voice cracked. “I simply asked if we could compare notes!”
“No. Technically she initiated it.” Elle clarified.
Shaking his head, Spencer eyes trailed to the now closed Hotch’s door. 
“Yea, to which you effortlessly turned from coffee date to a dinner date!” Exclaimed Derek, earning Spencer a pat on the back. “The boy’s got game!”
“It’s not a date! At least I don’t think it is - I bet she doesn’t see me that way. Nobody does.” Spencer sighs, sulking back down to his seat. Reality catching up to him by the second, erasing any hope that a woman like you would have any romantic interest in a nerd like him. 
“Trust me kid.” Come a voice, effectively cutting Reid’s thoughts. Gideon nonchalantly walks up to the empty desk marked “Agent y/n y/m/n”, moves the box of your belongings to make space for  what seems to be a plastic bag of takeaway. “You're her type.” 
“What?” Spencer asks, more confused than ever. The looks across the team’s face reflect his own reaction. “And how would you know that?” 
“With all due respect, sir.” Added JJ, careful not to overstep. “You haven’t seen y/n and you got all that from her untouched desk?”
“Yea Gideon, we know you’re good but you can’t be that good!”
Gideon brushed off Derek’s brassiness and smirked. Proceeding to head up to his office, finally addressing the group only halfway up the steps. “I know, cause she's my daughter.”
“WHAT?!” exclaimed the BAU team, who once again found themselves frozen by a member of the Gideon family.
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theonottsbxtch · 1 month ago
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WHATS LEFT BEHIND PT.5 | MV1
an: FINAL PART LETS GO! i actually now need myself a bull rider boyfriend. call me a buckle bunny but im booking my flights to texas NEOW
summary: when max verstappen left his childhood girlfriend behind to face her career ending injury alone to chase his dreams of being the best bull rider the country has ever seen, he thought it would be easy. except it wasn't, he was back in town and they hated him, for one reason. they hurt their star barrel racer.
wc: 5.3k
part one | part two | part three |
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A week had passed since Max had started working at the barn, and, as much as he’d hoped things would smooth over quickly, she hadn’t exactly made life easy. She didn’t make his life hell, but she sure as hell made him work for every bit of her attention—and he was determined not to back down.
Every morning started the same. He’d roll up before dawn, grabbing her usual coffee order along with his own, and leave it on her desk in the barn’s office before heading out to do whatever Leslie had lined up for him. She never said thank you, but he noticed the empty coffee cups in the trash each afternoon. That was a win, even if she refused to acknowledge it.
But the rest of the day? She kept him on his toes. Whether it was piling on extra chores—cleaning the muck out of the hardest-to-reach stalls, fixing a fence she’d “forgotten” to mention was half-broken, or rearranging hay bales just after he’d finished stacking them—she  found ways to keep him busy.
She didn’t nag or yell, though. No, that would have been too easy. Instead, she went about her work like he wasn’t even there, leaving him with that cool, indifferent attitude that drove him half-crazy. And yet, in those quiet moments, when he’d catch her out of the corner of his eye, he’d sometimes see her watching him, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her face before she turned away.
It was enough to keep him going.
That Friday, Max found himself knee-deep in the back stalls, mucking out the worst of the mess while she worked in the far corner, brushing down one of the horses. The barn was quiet, except for the occasional whinny or shuffle of hooves. He glanced up every now and then, hoping for a chance to talk to her, but she kept her distance, focused on her task.
When lunchtime rolled around, he wiped the sweat from his brow and tossed the shovel to the side. His arms ached, and he could feel the strain in his back from the week’s work, but he wasn’t about to complain. He’d do anything to stay in her orbit, no matter how many stalls he had to clean or fences he had to fix.
He stepped outside, taking a moment to breathe in the fresh air. The sun hung high, casting a warm glow over the fields. She walked out a few minutes later, heading toward her truck. He figured she’d drive off like she had been doing all week, probably to meet Heidi for lunch or to run errands.
But then she paused at her door, glancing back at him.
"You missed a spot in stall five," she said, her tone deadpan, though he swore he saw the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at her lips.
Max wiped his hands on his jeans and shot her a grin. "I’ll get right on that."
She raised an eyebrow. "Better."
She didn’t wait for his response, just climbed into her truck and drove off, leaving a trail of dust in her wake.
And an hour later, when Max had finished the stalls, double-checking the one she’d pointed out. It was spotless, of course, but he wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction of calling her out on it. He was learning her rhythm—the small ways she tested him, the subtle pushes to see if he’d break. But he wasn’t about to.
As he stepped out of the barn, wiping the dirt off his boots, Leslie walked up, arms crossed, watching him with an amused look.
"She’s making you work for it, huh?" Leslie said, her voice laced with amusement.
Max chuckled, shaking his head. "Is it that obvious?"
Leslie smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Oh, it’s clear as day, cowboy. She might not say much, but she sees everything. And trust me, she’s watching you closer than you think."
"Yeah," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I figured as much."
"You holding up okay?" Leslie asked, more serious now. "She’s not making it easy, but if anyone can handle it, it’s you."
Max glanced back toward the direction her truck had disappeared. "I’ll take whatever she throws at me. I owe her that much."
Leslie nodded, her expression softening. "Just don’t push too hard, alright? She’ll come around. Maybe slower than you’d like, but she will."
Max let out a breath, his determination still strong. "I’m not going anywhere."
"Good," Leslie said, giving him a pat on the arm before walking off.
As the afternoon wore on, Max stayed busy with his tasks, but he couldn’t help thinking about her, about how she kept her walls so high, how she tested him day after day. But he wasn’t here for an easy win. He was here to make things right.
And if that meant mucking out stalls and rebuilding fences until she finally let him in? So be it.
Later that evening, she was sat in Heidi's kitchen, her hands wrapped around a warm mug of tea. Heidi was perched on the counter, scrolling through her phone before glancing up at her, who had been unusually quiet for most of their hangout.
"You alright?" Heidi asked, narrowing her eyes with a knowing look. "You seem... distracted."
She sighed, leaning back against her chair. "Just tired, I guess. It's been a long week."
Heidi gave her a pointed look. "Or maybe it's not the work that's tiring you out, but who you're working with."
She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. "Please, Heidi. Don't start."
Heidi grinned, hopping off the counter and leaning in closer. "Come on, angel. I’ve seen the way he’s been busting his ass at the barn. Everyone has. He’s practically on call for any chore you throw at him. You’ve got to admit, he's putting in the effort."
She sipped her tea, her expression softening despite herself. "Yeah, maybe. But it doesn’t change anything, Heidi. What he did... I can’t just forget all of that."
Heidi raised an eyebrow, setting her phone down. "Look, I'm not saying you should forget it. But forgiveness isn’t about erasing the past, it’s about letting go of it. You see the way he’s trying. People don’t do that unless they really care."
She stared into her mug, her mind flicking through the past week. The coffee left on her desk each morning, the small fixes around the barn that Max did without a word, the way he smiled when he thought she wasn’t looking. She couldn’t deny it—he was making an effort, a real one.
But was it enough?
That night, she headed over to her mother's, her conversation with Heidi replaying in her mind. It was getting late, and the evening sun had dipped low in the sky, casting a warm glow across the yard as she pulled into her driveway. As she got out of her truck, something unusual caught her eye.
The ramp leading up to her mother’s front porch—usually creaky and worn—looked... different. Fixed. The wood was fresh, the railing sturdy. She frowned, puzzled. She had been meaning to repair it herself but hadn't found the time yet.
Curious, she headed inside, finding her mother sitting comfortably at the kitchen table reading a cookbook.
"Hey, Mum," she said, dropping her keys on the counter. "I noticed the ramp out front. Did you hire someone to fix it?"
Her mother looked up from her book with a soft smile, shaking her head. "Oh no, honey, I didn’t hire anyone."
She blinked, confused. "Then how did it get fixed?"
Her mother’s smile widened, a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. "Max stopped by earlier this week. He saw the ramp and said it wasn’t in any state for ‘a woman like me’ to be using, so he fixed it. Didn’t ask for anything, just said it was his pleasure."
Her chest tightened, warmth flooding her in a way she hadn’t expected. She stared at her mother, trying to process the thought of Max—without any prodding, without any expectation of acknowledgment—quietly fixing the ramp.
"He did that?" she asked softly, more to herself than to her mother.
"Sure did," her mom replied. "And you should’ve seen the look on his face when I thanked him. Almost like he didn’t expect anyone to notice."
She bit her lip, fighting the tug at her heart. He was making an effort, far beyond what she had expected. And it wasn’t just for show—it was genuine, thoughtful, and quietly persistent. She couldn’t ignore that anymore, no matter how hard she tried to keep her walls up.
Later that night, as she lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, she couldn’t shake the image of Max fixing her mother’s ramp. He hadn’t told her. He hadn’t even tried to get credit for it. He was just... there. Trying. For her.
And for the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to admit that maybe, just maybe, she was starting to care again.
The following morning, she went about her usual routine, but with one small difference. As she packed her lunch, she threw in an extra sandwich, a bag of chips, and some fruit. Her hands moved on autopilot, but her mind was elsewhere, replaying the events of the past few days. She still wasn’t sure what to make of everything, but a small part of her—one she hadn’t listened to in years—was softening.
Arriving at the barn, she found Max already working. His back was turned to her as he fixed one of the fences, the morning sun casting long shadows across the yard. His worn-out flannel shirt clung to his frame, muscles flexing with every hammer strike. She lingered for a second longer than she intended, watching him in quiet thought.
“Morning,” she called out, snapping herself out of it.
Max turned, wiping the sweat from his brow, and smiled at her. “Morning.”
She didn’t return the smile, but something in her expression was a little lighter today. She walked past him to start her own tasks, her heart beating a bit faster than usual.
As lunchtime approached, she gathered the packed lunches from her bag and headed to where Max was working. He was kneeling by a row of tools, setting them down with precision. He hadn’t noticed her approach yet.
She stood there for a moment, unsure of how to go about it. This wasn’t a peace offering—at least, she wasn’t ready to call it that—but it was... something.
“Hey,” she called out again, a little softer this time.
Max stood up, wiping his hands on his jeans as he turned toward her. “What’s up?”
“I packed extra,” she said, holding up the food, her voice steady but neutral. “Figured you might want to eat with me.”
Max’s surprise was unmistakable. His eyes flickered from the lunch she held to her face, as if trying to make sure he wasn’t imagining it. “You—uh—yeah, sure. That’d be great.”
She led them over to a shaded area near the barn, where they sat side by side on a patch of grass. The air was filled with the scent of hay and the sound of distant horses. She handed him the sandwich without saying anything more, and they ate in silence.
The quiet wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was loaded with unspoken thoughts. Max didn’t dare speak, afraid that saying the wrong thing might ruin this fragile truce between them. So he savoured the moment instead—the fact that she’d thought of him at all, that she’d packed lunch for him. It wasn’t much, but to him, it was everything.
Every now and then, she would glance at him from the corner of her eye, noticing how he ate slowly, as if he was trying to make the moment last. He didn’t try to force conversation, didn’t push her for more than she was willing to give. And oddly enough, she appreciated that.
When they finished, Max balled up the wrapper from his sandwich and looked at her with a small, grateful smile. “Thanks. For this. It means a lot.”
She didn’t say anything at first, just nodded as she folded her legs under herself. But inside, she could feel the cracks widening, her walls slowly crumbling under the weight of his quiet persistence.
“Don’t read into it,” she finally said, though her tone lacked its usual sharpness.
Max chuckled softly, shaking his head. “I’m just happy you thought of me.”
And for the first time in a long while, she didn’t snap back or pull away. Instead, she sat there in silence, the remnants of lunch between them, and let herself enjoy the stillness.
As she watched him from the corner of her eye, she couldn’t help but wonder if maybe—just maybe—this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
That night, she found herself back at the rodeo grounds. The arena was empty, illuminated by the soft glow of the arena lights overhead. The cool night air swept through the open space, carrying with it the familiar scent of dust and hay. She had her horse, Luna, with her, and despite the late hour, she wanted to try a new technique with the barrels. Something had been nagging at her all day—a feeling that she needed to push herself harder, to regain what she felt she'd lost over the years.
After saddling Luna and setting up the barrels, she took a deep breath. Her heart raced, but she was determined. She mounted Luna and gave a gentle nudge with her heels, signalling the start. They took off at a steady gallop, rounding the barrels, leaning in and guiding Luna with precision. But something went wrong as they approached the last turn.
Luna slipped on the soft dirt, throwing off their balance. She felt herself lurch forward, unable to regain control. Before she knew it, her body hit the ground with a hard thud, her leg twisting beneath her.
A sharp pain shot through her shin, and the air was knocked from her lungs. She lay there for a moment, disoriented, trying to gather her breath. But as the pain intensified, a sinking realisation hit her—something was wrong.
She clenched her teeth, willing herself to move. Her hands dug into the dirt as she tried to stand, but the pain in her leg made her gasp. She collapsed back onto the ground, her chest heaving as the tears welled in her eyes. She knew she couldn’t walk on it, and the frustration burned deep inside her.
“Damn it,” she hissed under her breath, the reality of her situation settling in. Her eyes darted to the bench by the fence, where her phone lay. If she could just reach it, she could call for help.
Gritting her teeth, she pulled herself up into a sitting position. The pain in her leg was unbearable, but she forced herself to move, dragging her body toward the bench. Every inch felt like a mile, and by the time she reached it, her hands were trembling from the effort and pain.
She grabbed her phone, swiping it open with shaking fingers. For a moment, she hesitated. There was only one person who came to mind in her state, but calling him would mean admitting she needed him. Swallowing her pride, she scrolled through her contacts and hit Max’s number.
The phone rang twice before she heard his voice, laced with sleep and confusion. “Darlin’? What’s going on?”
Her voice cracked as she spoke, trying to keep it steady. “Max... I need your help.”
There was silence on the other end for a split second, and then, his tone shifted, becoming sharper, more alert. “Where are you? What happened?”
“I’m at the rodeo grounds,” she said, her breath shallow. “I fell... I think I fractured my shin. I can’t— I can’t stand.”
“I’m on my way,” Max said, no hesitation in his voice. “Stay where you are. I’ll be there in five.”
The call ended, and she rested her head back against the bench, her tears finally spilling over. She hated feeling this vulnerable, this helpless. But in that moment, all she could do was wait and hope Max could get to her before the pain became too much.
Max rolled out of bed the moment her call ended, barely taking a second to throw on a shirt. His mind raced as he grabbed the first aid kit he always kept in his truck, along with two pillows he stuffed under his arm. He cursed under his breath, already imagining the worst, knowing that she wouldn’t have called him unless she had no other choice.
He drove through the quiet streets toward the rodeo grounds way above the speed limit, his heart pounding in time with the thrum of his engine. The sky was still dark, the early morning stars fading into the approaching dawn. When he finally arrived at the arena, his headlights washed over her, slumped against the bench, her face pale and streaked with dirt and pain.
He was out of the truck and by her side in seconds.
“Sweetheart, hey,” he said, his voice soft but urgent as he knelt beside her. His hair was a mess, and she could tell he’d come straight from bed. She could even make out the faint marks on his face from where his pillow had pressed into his skin. Despite everything, she felt a strange warmth in her chest at the sight of him so unguarded, so rushed.
“You really didn’t have to come this fast,” she muttered, trying to keep her voice light through the pain, but Max was already assessing her leg.
“You said you couldn’t stand,” he said, his tone firm as he gently touched the area around her shin, making her wince. “Yeah, you weren’t kidding. Looks pretty swollen. You did a number on it.”
Without wasting another moment, he positioned the pillows beneath her leg, carefully lifting her injured shin with as much tenderness as he could muster. “We need to keep this elevated.”
She leaned back, biting her lip against the surge of pain as he made her comfortable. “I’m fine, Max. Just... get me to the hospital, okay?”
“Yeah, we’re going,” he nodded. “Okay, let’s get you into the truck.”
He slipped his arms under her without warning, lifting her off the ground with an ease that made her breath catch. For a moment, she wanted to protest, tell him she could manage, but the truth was, she couldn’t. And something about the way he carried her, like she was fragile and precious, made her fall silent.
Max gently settled her into the passenger seat, making sure her leg was resting on the pillows he had brought. Once she was situated, he leaned in for a second, his eyes locking on hers.
“You okay?”
“Yeah,” she breathed, her voice a little softer than before. “Thanks.”
He gave her a quick nod before stepping away, his boots crunching in the dirt as he turned back toward Luna, who had been waiting anxiously nearby. She watched as Max took the reins, speaking softly to the horse to calm her down. He led Luna toward the stable, his movements steady and practised, like he’d done it a thousand times.
After securing Luna safely in a stall, Max pulled out his phone and dialled Daniel, explaining the situation. “Hey, man, can you come get her horse from the Rodeo Grounds off Milton? Yeah, she’s here, she had a fall and I’m taking her to the hospital now.”
Daniel must’ve agreed because Max gave a quick thanks and hung up, heading back to the truck. He climbed into the driver’s seat, glancing over at her as he started the engine.
“You ready?” he asked, his voice a little softer now.
She nodded, her head leaning back against the seat, her face tense with pain but somehow calmer now that he was with her. She shifted slightly, her hand resting over her shin. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
Max didn’t waste any more time. He pulled out of the rodeo grounds, the truck rumbling down the road toward the hospital. Every now and then, he’d glance over at her, making sure she was okay, but she kept her eyes forward, trying to focus on anything other than the throbbing in her leg.
When they pulled up to the hospital, Max jumped out of the truck and went straight for help. Within minutes, a nurse brought a wheelchair over, and she was gently transferred from the truck into the chair. She gritted her teeth as pain radiated through her shin with every small movement, but Max was there, his hand on her shoulder, steady and reassuring.
Once they got her inside and into a room, the doctors took over, examining her leg and running x-rays. Max never left her side. Even when the doctors moved her to a bed and propped her leg up with more pillows, he sat in a chair nearby, his eyes fixed on her like he was afraid she might disappear if he looked away for even a second.
The cast came next, wrapping her shin from ankle to knee, and while the doctors spoke to her about recovery time and physical therapy, she could only focus on Max sitting quietly by the bed, his elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped together, but his body still tense with worry.
Once the doctors left the room, silence settled between them. It was just the two of them now, and she was suddenly very aware of the soft hum of the hospital, the sound of her own breathing, and the way Max’s presence seemed to fill every inch of the small room.
She shifted slightly on the bed, wincing at the tug of pain. Max noticed and immediately stood, closing the distance between them. Without a word, he leaned down, gently brushing the hair from her face, and then he pressed his lips softly against her forehead.
The simple, tender gesture sent a warmth through her that had nothing to do with the hospital blankets. Her breath caught in her throat as her heart began to race. She could feel the weight of years between them, the unresolved emotions swirling in the air, and then, as if he could sense it too, Max spoke.
“I ain’t leaving this time,” he whispered, his voice low and rough, full of quiet resolve. His thumb traced gently along her temple, his touch soft but firm, grounding her in the moment.
She blinked up at him, her chest tightening as the words sank in. There was a vulnerability in his voice, something she hadn’t heard before, and it disarmed her.
"You said that when we were kids," she whispered back, her voice laced with a mix of old hurt and hesitation.
“I know,” he said, straightening up but never taking his eyes off her. “But this time, I mean it.”
For the first time in years, she saw something in his eyes that she hadn’t seen since they were teenagers—pure, unguarded sincerity. And for a moment, it scared her. She had built so many walls to protect herself from this exact moment, from feeling anything for him again. But here he was, and somehow, without even trying, he was breaking through those walls.
She swallowed hard, looking away as she fought the urge to let her guard down completely. “You can’t just say things like that and expect me to believe you.”
“I know,” Max said quietly, his voice steady but soft. “But I’ll prove it to you, darlin’. I promise.” He took a step back, giving her space. "I’ll be here. Every day. For as long as it takes."
She felt something stir deep in her chest, something she hadn’t allowed herself to feel for so long. But she wasn’t ready to acknowledge it yet. So instead, she looked away, blinking back the sudden sting in her eyes, and said nothing.
Max didn’t push. He just pulled the chair back up beside her bed and sat down again, settling in like he was prepared to stay as long as she needed him to.
And in that moment, she realised that maybe—just maybe—this time, he really meant it.
The following morning she stirred slowly, the soft beeping of machines and the faint smell of antiseptic greeting her as she opened her eyes. For a moment, she was disoriented, the hospital room unfamiliar, the bright light overhead too harsh. But as she shifted slightly, the discomfort in her leg reminded her where she was.
And then she saw him.
Max was slumped in the chair beside her bed, his head tilted back, mouth slightly open, and the light from the window fell across his face. He looked worn out, the stubble on his jaw accentuating the dark circles under his eyes. It was clear he had fallen asleep waiting for her to wake up, and her heart swelled at the sight. He looked so peaceful, but she couldn’t help but wonder how uncomfortable that chair must be after a long night.
Just as she was about to call out to him, the door creaked open, and her mother walked in, followed closely by Heidi. They both froze for a second, taking in the scene: her awake in bed and Max asleep in the chair, clearly the protector she needed.
“Oh, honey!” her mother exclaimed, rushing to her side. “You’re awake!” She brushed a strand of hair from her forehead, concern etched on her features. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I got hit by a truck,” she replied, her voice hoarse but light. She glanced at Max again, a soft smile breaking across her face. “Is he okay?”
Heidi exchanged a knowing look with her mother, both of them trying to suppress their amusement. “Looks like he’s been here all night,” Heidi said quietly, her eyes sparkling with warmth. “I think he’s more tired than you are.”
Her heart fluttered at that, a mixture of gratitude and guilt washing over her. She hadn’t wanted him to feel like he had to stay, but the sight of him right there, ready to care for her, warmed her in a way she hadn’t expected.
As if on cue, Max stirred, blinking awake and immediately focusing on her. His eyes brightened, and he pushed himself upright, shaking off the remnants of sleep. “Hey,” he murmured, voice gravelly. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I ran a marathon,” she replied, attempting to joke. “But it’s nice to see you.”
He smiled, a small, genuine smile that made her heart skip a beat. Just then, her mother cleared her throat, and the atmosphere shifted slightly.
“Sweetpea, we’ll let you have some time with Max,” her mother said, glancing knowingly at the two of them. “He clearly has something to say.” She motioned for Heidi to follow her out.
“Mum, wait—” she started, but her mother was already closing the door behind her, leaving her alone with Max.
The moment stretched, the air thick with unspoken words. She was both grateful for the space and hesitant about what to say.
Max leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his expression earnest. “Darlin’, about last night—”
Before he could finish, the door swung open again, this time revealing her mother and Heidi, who walked back in.
“Sorry to interrupt!” her mother chirped, but the way her eyes sparkled indicated they weren’t sorry at all. ���We just wanted to let you know that we’re going to grab some coffee and food. We’ll be back shortly.”
As they turned to leave, Heidi shot her a quick wink, whispering loud enough for Max to hear, “Looks like someone’s going to stay this time.”
She felt the heat rise to her cheeks, and Max’s gaze flickered between the two women before he smirked, clearly amused by their implication. “Yeah, I’m not going anywhere,” he said, the confidence in his voice sending warmth spreading through her.
As her mother and Heidi exited the room, Max settled back into the chair, the teasing atmosphere dissipating into something deeper. “I meant what I said last night,” he added, his tone serious. “I’m not leaving this time, darlin’. You can count on me.”
She swallowed, her heart racing at the promise in his words. She wanted to believe him, to trust him again, but she knew it would take time. Still, there was a flicker of hope, a spark that hadn’t been there before.
“Okay,” she said softly, meeting his gaze. “I hope you mean that.”
He nodded, a small smile breaking across his face, and in that moment, the air between them was charged with the possibility of healing, of building something new together.
She watched as Max's eyes darkened with a mix of emotions—relief, longing, and something else she couldn’t quite place. She felt the air between them thicken, charged with the weight of everything they had been through, all the words unsaid, and the feelings that had lingered for far too long.
Before she could think, she reached out, gripping the edge of the hospital bed. “Max—”
He leaned in closer, his eyes locked onto hers, as if he could see right into her soul. “Sweetheart, I know things are complicated, and I know I hurt you—”
“I just—”
But the moment hung between them, fragile yet electric. She could feel the pull, a magnetic force drawing them closer, igniting a fire she thought had dimmed years ago.
And then it happened. Max surged forward, capturing her lips with his in a kiss that was both tender and fierce. It was a kiss filled with the weight of their history, the longing that had been buried beneath years of pain, and the passion that had never truly faded. She melted into him, her fingers tangling in his hair as she kissed him back with an intensity she hadn’t realised she was capable of.
The world around them faded away, leaving only the two of them, lost in a moment that felt both like a homecoming and a revelation. She could feel his warmth enveloping her, wrapping her in safety and comfort. The soft beeping of the machines and the sterile scent of the hospital evaporated, replaced by the sweetness of his breath mingling with hers.
As they pulled apart, breathless, Her heart raced. She could see the depth of his feelings reflected in his eyes, but the weight of everything that had happened loomed over them like a dark cloud.
“Max…” she started, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I love you, sweetheart,” he interrupted, his voice thick with emotion. “I never stopped loving you. I know you can’t just forget everything that happened, but I’m here to stay. I’m here to be yours, and I’m—”
But she didn’t let him finish. Instead, she pulled him forward, capturing his lips again, desperate to erase the doubt and fear that threatened to invade this fragile moment. The kiss deepened, their lips moving in a passionate dance, a combination of urgency and need. It felt like they were reclaiming something that had always belonged to them, something that had been buried but never forgotten.
Their breaths mingled, and she felt herself surrendering completely. She could feel the warmth of his body radiating against her, and it ignited something deep within her, a fire that had been dormant for far too long. She pulled him closer, as if she could merge their bodies, their souls, into one.
Finally, they broke apart, both gasping for air, foreheads resting against each other, hearts racing in unison. She looked into his eyes, searching for certainty, and saw the sincerity etched in every line of his face.
“Okay,” she murmured, a smile breaking through the tension. “You can stay.”
Max grinned, his relief palpable. “Really?”
“Yeah,” she said, her heart fluttering with hope. “But you better be prepared to work for it.”
He laughed softly, a sound that made her heart soar. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
the end.
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xoxochb · 2 months ago
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i begggggggg u to do a percy x socially awk reader where percy realises she has like 3 default emotes like “real” “what the flip 😨😨” “🤷‍♀️” or smth and like teases her abt it 🙏🙏🙏
— that one convo
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warnings: none pairing: percy jackson x socially awkward! reader a/n: “wow this fic is very detailed with strong loathing for social interactions” yeah it’s because I’m projecting 🥰
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social events were the bane of your existence, the reason you woke up every morning and wish you could die. unfortunately when you’re a demigod they’re hard to ignore, camper there, camper here, now you have camp chores… the list goes on. It wasn’t only that you loathed social interactions— you were painfully awkward. stepping outside was practical social suicide for you. which is why you kept to yourself and sat at cabin three table with the only boy you would tolerate speaking to
you take a handful of his assorted berries into your hands and onto your plate, eating them one by one
“so what’re you up to today?” asks percy
you stop and think. you hadn’t planned your day out that far yet. “I’m not sure. maybe I’ll paint or read or sleep. I don’t know”
“that sounds great! I’m free today too, maybe I could come with you?”
“uhhh… yeah” you shrug “but I don’t want you interrupting my reading. can you stay quiet?”
“just for you” percy winks, maybe you scrunch your nose in disgust and return your focus to your breakfast. that’s when your worst fear happens. a camper walks to the table��� presumably from cabin seven because her hair flies in rays of sunshine. you stiffen and avoid eye contact
“there’s a party in hermes cabin later, you coming?”
“I’ll be there! do you wanna come to, (name)?”
you swallow hard and nod. but no you do not want to go. parties were the home place of social situations and people. tons. of. people.
“okay, great! I’ll see you two tonight then” the girl smiles and leaves the table (your prayers had been answered! tyche would be getting extra offerings this morning for sure)
percy furrows his brows and turns fully to you. “what was that?”
now you avoid eye contact with him also. “what was what?”
“well, I mean you were talking to me fine and then that girl came over here and you forgot how!”
“I don’t like that girl” you lie
“you’ve never met her in your life and I know it because you only ever talk to me”
you frown. “I don’t like talking to anyone else…”
“I figured”
you give him a look of disapproval and hit him upside the head. “don’t be a smart-ass”
“you know what?” he says, ignoring your comment and action
the look on your face is bored. you know what he’s about to say. yet you sigh and reply, “what?”
“I’m glad you only talk to me. makes me feel special”
you close your eyes and shake your head slowly. percy laughs and plants a kiss to your cheek happily. when you open your eyes back up you see him staring at you creepily lovingly
“I really like you (nickname)”
mood: ruined. you groan and stand up. “you’re such a fucking weirdo, get away from me”
you hear percy shout behind you, “hey, you should’ve said that to that girl!”
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flemingsfreckles · 2 months ago
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Yapper
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Synopsis: Jessie is a yapper, way more chatty than you ever expected. The only problem is it seems she’s chatty with everyone except you.
Warnings: none, small argument but nothing else
WC: 1.5k
A/N: hi, I was inspired to write this little thing off the fact that Jessie seems to be quite the chatty person in reality, this was a very quick, single sit down a write kind of thing, once again I’m sure there’s a few errors, but my brain is exhausted from work and quite frankly I can’t manage to reread this but I want to post it. I’ll give it another read once I have some rest and fix my errors :)
It had been unexpected to you, learning the fact that the rumored shy and quiet Canadian was in fact chatty, a jokester even. You noticed it on the first day you transferred to the club, Jessie in the locker room wandering around chatting with a few of her teammates before coming over and introducing herself. She quickly moved on, returning to talk to your other teammates.
She talked with everyone, everyone but you. You figured it was because you didn’t know her well, she didn’t know you yet, maybe she was shy, but that thought went out the window when a few other new transfers came in, Arnold, Turner, Hirst, and Jessie quickly made friends with all of them, chatting with them just as much as anyone else.
You decided maybe it was you. Maybe you had been too quiet toward her, you were timid the first few days, maybe you had made a poor first impression with her. Maybe she assumed you didn’t want to talk to her. So your next step was trying to talk to her.
The two of you sat side by side on the bench, she had been subbed out at the half, you shortly after. As you grabbed your bib you slid it over your head and plopped down next to Jessie.
“Hi.”
“Hey.”
“You played well, the long ball you had, beautiful pass by the way.” You say, smiling and turning toward her.
She turns quickly to look at you, “oh, thanks,” her response is quick before she turns her attention back to the game. She keeps her gaze forward for a minute before leaning over, away from you to talk with a couple other players, never speaking directly to you.
She felt cold. She never voluntarily spoke to you, only out of necessity.
You wanted to talk to her. You found her intriguing. She carried herself with such confidence and yet never came off cocky. She was incredibly intelligent both on and off the pitch from what you had heard. You also couldn’t ignore the fact that the way her cheeks flared red after she ran around wasn’t adorable to you. You couldn’t ignore how you found yourself staring for an extra second when she’d adjust her shorts, how when she laughed you immediately found yourself smiling and looking to see her happy face. You thought Jessie was cute, you wanted to get to know her. But it seemed she was doing everything in her power to prevent that.
It took a couple weeks of debating in your head, do you confront her, ask what had happened, where you went wrong, or did you leave it? You got your answer after a long and grueling training session, a training session where Jessie had said all of three words to you, despite the two of you being paired for multiple drills. You couldn’t hold it in anymore as the team headed in to the locker room.
“Jessie!” You shout at her, she turns around as does Weaver who she’s walking beside. They both stop walking waiting for you to catch up. “Can we talk really quick?” You point in the direction away from where the team was headed. Jessie looks hesitant to respond, looking at you and then Morgan. Her throat bobs as she swallows hard and nods at you.
“I’ll catch up with you later.” She says and Morgan turns to head to the locker room.
She watches as Weaver leaves before turning back to you.
“Hey did I do something wrong?” You didn’t want to come off accusing her of ignoring you, maybe you had done something to upset her, make her mad, make her feel uncomfortable about you. Maybe this was just all your fault.
“What?” She looks confused, eyebrows pushed together, her nose scrunched slightly.
“Did I do something, did I upset you?” You look at her eyes, finding yourself trying to place the color, they were brown and yet in the light of the sunset, nearly golden.
“Why would you think that?” Your attention is pulled from her eyes at the sound of her voice. She blinks hard at you a few times, head cocked to the side, nose still scrunched.
“You talk to everyone, everyone except me, we’ve hardly had conversation beyond the day you introduced yourself and yet you talk and talk to everyone else. I just wanted to make sure I didn’t do something to upset you.”
“I talk to you.”
“Only if it’s necessary Jessie, we sit next to each other on the bench and you hardly say a word but you talk non stop to whoever is on the other side of you. We’ve sat at the same table for dinner, you barely even look at me.” You can feel your throat starting to grow tight, you don’t want to cry over this, it felt stupid but here you were. “It’s just, I feel like I did something wrong.”
“No, no you didn’t.”
“Then why won’t you talk to me, or hell even look at me.” Your voice coming out higher, your frustration beginning to show.
“You make me nervous!” Jessie aggressively shakes her hands out in front of her. You’re taken aback by the raising of her voice. You hardly register the words she said until she repeats them again quieter, “You make me nervous, that’s why.”
“Why?” Your first instinct is to laugh, unsure of why the Canadian would be scared of you, but then nerves set in. Maybe you had tackled her too hard a few times, maybe she wasn’t a fan of how you carried yourself on the field, you were quick to argue a call or stand up for yourself or teammates if crass words were being thrown around.
“You just, you.” Jessie gestures an arm up and down the length of your body. “I, you,” she stutters again for a moment before looking at you with soft eyes. “I, I think you’re really cool, and pretty and uh, I’d like to get to know you better, which obviously doesn’t make sense because I don’t talk to you, but you just, you make me nervous so I’m not even sure how to have a conversation with you.”
You have to bite the inside of your cheek to prevent the rather cocky smirk from showing on your face. “Are you trying to say you have a crush on me?”
“That makes it sound childish.” Jessie kicks her shoe into the concrete below you both.
“I mean, isn’t avoiding me because you have crush, childish?” You question her. You watch as Jessie’s face falls at your comment, quickly making you realize your poor choice of words teasing her.
“Forget I said anything.” Jessie says as she dips her shoulder to slide past you, heading back down the tunnel.
“Jessie, wait, that’s, no, that came out wrong.” You try to plead with her.
“Just forget it.” She doesn’t turn around but waves her hand behind her back waving you off.
“I have a crush too.” The words stop Jessie in her tracks. She keeps her back to you for a minute. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest as you wait for Jessie to turn or run or laugh, you have no idea what to expect.
She turns slowly, then stops, not walking toward you. You can feel your hands shaking, they’re clammy, you’re sweating and not just from training.
It feels like forever that the two of you stand just looking at each other. Jessie’s expression doesn’t tell you much. She’s blank faced, but you have a feeling your face looks the same. You feel frozen in your body and frozen in time unable to think about anything besides the confession you just gave. You’re not sure why but you decide to repeat it, make sure she hears you.
“I have a crush too.” You say before adding in, “on you, Jessie.”
She still doesn’t say anything, but she lets her head fall backwards, looking up at the ceiling. She lets out a huge puff of air before returning to looking at you, only now a grin is present.
“Really? You have a crush on me?”
“Yes, that's what I said.” Subtly you try to wipe your hands onto your shorts, trying to get rid of the clammy uncomfortable feeling they had.
“Wow.”
“Yeah.” You pause for a minute letting your weight shift between your feet, leaning from left to right. “Would you want to get dinner sometime?”
She takes a couple steps forward. You do the same until you’re just a few feet apart. “Yeah, dinner sounds nice, I’d like that.” She nods with the same grin across her face.
“Sounds good, Sunday night?” You’d have a free afternoon and evening Sunday after the home game Saturday, it would be a perfect chance barring any of Jessie’s potential previous plans.
“Yeah, Sunday.” She nods.
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
The two of you start walking side by side down toward the lockers. You stick out your elbow, finding Jessie’s side and giving her a kind jab. She looks at you. “Just so you know, a dinner date will require you to talk to me.” You say with a wink before running ahead of her, turning back after a few steps to see the Canadian roll her eyes playfully at you.
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zepskies · 6 months ago
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Every Second Counts - Part 2
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Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader
Summary: One date with your best friend’s brother leaves you wanting more, even though his questionable job and vagabond lifestyle make you want to guard your heart. When your brother falls into trouble, however, Russell is the one you trust to help you find him. 
AN: I decided to put this chapter out a bit early due to some Father's Day stuff tomorrow. I was blown away by the response from you guys on Part 1!! Thank you so much. 🥰 I had some trepidation writing a new character, but I'm so glad you guys seem to enjoy where this little series is going so far. It makes me even more excited to bring you the next chapter of ESC! 💜
Song Inspo: “Too Late” by The Paper Kites
Word Count: 5.3K
Tags/Warnings: Shaw family feels, a bit of mystery, tinge of fluff and mutual pining, and a twist…
💜 Series Masterlist
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Part 2: “Family Reunion”
The next day after he left, you finally managed to get Charlie on the phone. He implored you not to try and find him.
He claimed he was staying with a friend for now, and was picking up some odd jobs through a connection at the museum—another security guard who knew how to get extra work. 
“What kind of extra work?” you asked. You sunk back into the couch in your living room and held a hand to your aching head. You had already lost sleep over this, worrying about where he was and what the hell he was doing.
“It’s better that you don’t know,” Charlie said.
He really knew how to frustrate you to the nth degree.
“Charlie, just come home. Please,” you said. Tears burned in your eyes, choking your words. “I’m sorry for what I said, okay? We’ll figure this out together, I promise.”
You heard him sigh.
“You had a right to be mad,” he said. “I’m the big brother, remember? But I’m…I’m a fucking mess. You shouldn’t have to take care of me.”
“We take care of each other, and you know that,” you said sharply, wiping at your eyes in frustration.
“Listen, I’ll come home when I can, okay? Be good.”
“Charlie! Ch—” The call ended, and you nearly tossed your phone in aggravation.
“That stubborn fucking idiot,” you muttered.
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Four months later, your worry was eating you alive.
Charlie refused to come home or tell you where he was staying. The only time you got to see him was when you visited him on his night shift at the museum. You tried to talk him into coming home, but your brother remained stubborn.
“You get that from Dad,” you’d told him once, while watching him eat some leftover meatloaf you’d made for him. The two of you stood outside the museum on his break.
Charlie had smirked at you. “Yeah, well, you share the disease.”
You’d rolled your eyes at that.
But just when you thought you were starting to get through to him, now, he’d stopped answering your calls. For that matter, the museum hadn’t even seen or heard from him in a week or so.
So here you sat, in the living room of Dory’s apartment, crying into a jar of Nutella that you’d long ago stopped spreading over the strawberries she’d laid out. You had a chocolate-covered butterknife in one hand and a used Kleenex in the other.
Dory was sat next to you on the couch, rubbing your back with sympathy and concern in her own eyes.
“You should call the police,” she advised.
You’d thought of that, but if Charlie was doing something he wasn’t supposed to, then depending on what it was, you didn’t want necessarily want him locked up in a cell. He wasn’t a bad person, he was just…lost. You wanted him to get help.
You set down the butterknife beside the jar and turned to her, after drying your eyes the best you could.
“Do you think your brother would be willing to come back to Wyoming?” you said. After a beat of hesitation, you specified:
“Colter, the tracker.”
You hadn’t had a chance to meet him when he dropped in a couple of months ago, but she’d told you about his brief visit to find a graduate student who had been kidnapped, and nearly killed by a professor in the Sciences department for uncovering a flaw in the man’s research. That flaw would have costed him his entire grant, and possibly his career and reputation. 
The terrible incident had caused an uproar on campus. Students were released from their classes for an entire day after the professor was arrested. 
Now, Dory considered your question with a thoughtful nod. “I’ll call him.”
You were grateful, but your face became pained as something occurred to you. You held up a hand.
“Wait, I just realized I can’t pay him,” you said. You didn’t have more than a thousand dollars in your savings account, and that was for emergencies. Like the time Charlie nearly burned the house down after a lighting mishap with his bong.
“Oh, sweetie, don’t worry about that,” Dory said. She laid a comforting hand on your arm. “He’d do this as a favor to me.”
“I don’t know,” you replied, your brows furrowing. “That’s a pretty big favor.”
She’d told you what some of Colter’s fees could run up to, but she tried to quell your reservations and promised to call him regardless.
However, the more you thought about it, you already had a phone number in your cell…for the one person who would understand the part of your brother that you might never be able to. 
After you left Dory’s apartment, you debated the idea in your head for the entire drive home. 
And when you got to the house, you picked up your cell, and you called him. Your nerves had you pacing back and forth across the living room as it rang. 
“Hey, sweetheart.”
You couldn’t help smiling just at the sound of his voice, smooth and pleased, and a hint surprised.
“Hey,” you replied, biting your lip. “How are you?”
“I’m good. You’ve got good timing too. I just came off a job,” he said.
“Oh really? Where are you?”
“Well, I’m states-side now. Just got back from South America.”
“Oh, wow,” you said, blinking incredulously.
What the hell was he doing there? you had to wonder. Maybe he was protecting some Latin American emissary. Or maybe, he was doing things you didn’t want to think about. Your brother had filled you in a bit about civilian contract jobs in recent weeks, as he’d considered going after those himself.
“They can pay very well, from what I hear,” Charlie had said. “The problem with that is, it kind of defeats the purpose of leaving the military.”
Despite that mildly troubling thought, you tried to focus on the fact that you had this man on the phone at all.
A smile formed across your lips. “Did you get yourself a nice tan?”
“Eh, not really. Was more of a night job,” he said. “But uh…how are you doing? Not gonna lie, I’m surprised to hear from you.”
“Yeah, I’m…I’m not all that good, if I’m honest,” you said.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. You heard the concern in his voice. You steeled yourself before you answered.
“Russell, I’m sorry, but I need to ask you for a big favor.”
“Hmm, this sounds serious,” he said.
“Yeah, it is,” you agreed. When you next took a breath, it came out unsteady. “My brother’s missing.”
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It was a bright Saturday morning when you welcomed Russell Shaw into your house. He looked around, finding family pictures, bookshelves, paintings, candles, all things that began to shade in who you were in the comfort of your home.
“It’s nice,” he said. “It’s uh, homey.”
You smiled and closed the door behind him.
“Well, it’s the house we grew up in,” you replied.
You and Charlie had of course inherited it after your parents’ passing. Their life insurance policies had helped pay off the three-bedroom house while you two were still in school. Your grandparents helped a lot back then too, and had even moved in for a time. Now they each had plots beside your parents at Grandview Cemetery.
“You want some coffee? I know you had a long drive,” you asked.
“Sure,” Russell agreed. He followed you to the kitchen, where you put on the coffee pot. You made a discreet glance at him. He looked virtually the same, with that familiar green jacket, jeans, boots, and a Jimi Hendrix shirt. You'd had a feeling he was a classic rock guy.
“Look, not that I wasn’t glad to get your call,” Russell said, “but you do know that I’m not the tracker in the family, right?”
“Dory did offer to call Colter, but I can’t afford to pay him,” you said.
“I could help with that,” said Russell. You raised up a hand to stop him there.
“I don’t want that kind of help from you,” you said firmly. “I didn’t call you for money, Russell. I called you because you’ll probably understand where Charlie’s head’s at. Better than me, anyway.”
He hesitated, but nodded in understanding. When the coffeemaker dinged, finished percolating, you turned to make him a mug with cream and sugar, as per his request.
While he waited for the coffee to cool, he admired you for a moment. Even in a plain V-neck shirt and a pair of jeans, your hair swung up in a ponytail, you were still a sight. (Your lipstick did match your shirt though. That made him smile.)
And Russell could admit, it was good to see you again.
“Me and Colter reconnected recently. Did Dory tell you?” he said.
Your brows raised high in surprise. “Oh yeah?”
The two of you found your way back to the living room with your mugs.
“Yeah. We talked for the first time in…shit, over twenty years,” Russell laughed, raking a hand through his hair.
Not only had he been able to say his piece to Colter about their…family issues, they’d also solved a case of their own, with Colter agreeing to help him find his friend Doug, who worked for the same black ops contract agency as Russell. The Horizon Group.
The aftermath of that still left Russell with a bitter taste in his mouth when he thought of how Horizon would’ve left Doug to rot, if it hadn’t been for him and Colter pressing their luck and digging deeper into who’d taken his friend.
That whole mess had also made Russell begin to wonder if maybe he needed a new line of work after all. But, because the money was just that good, he’d ended up on a new job by the end of the month.
Your voice soon broke him from his thoughts.
“I’m glad to hear that,” you said. You reached over and touched his arm, with warmth in your eyes. 
Russell gave you a smile. The closeness between you brought up memories of that dusty bar, and the taste of lime and tequila on your soft, supple lips. But you subtly cleared your throat and took your hand back. He hid a twinge of disappointment.
“So what’s going on with your brother?” Russell asked.
Get back on track, he reminded himself.
You sighed. “Damn Charlie.”
Over coffee, you explained that Charlie took off a few months ago, the night you got back from the bar. You had seen him only briefly, whenever you were able to catch him at the museum after work. He’d been keeping in touch with you on a weekly basis, but now, he hadn’t called in almost two weeks. You couldn’t get ahold of him on any of the numbers you had. They all seemed to be burner phones. Plus, he’d been let go from his job at the museum after not showing up for the past week. 
“What’s he into, extracurricular-wise?” Russell asked.
“I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell me,” you said in frustration. Tears prickled at your eyes, and your lower lip trembled. “He said it was safer that way.”
Russell laid a supportive hand over yours, earning your watery gaze.
“And you haven’t gone to the police?” he asked.
“I think he’s gotten into something…dangerous. I don’t want to get him in more trouble than he might be already,” you said. “I just want him to get help for his problems. Physically and mentally.”
Russell nodded. He understood that you wanted to protect your brother. Sometimes though, getting into “trouble” was the rock bottom someone needed in order to face their problems.
“Does he have friends?” he asked. “Some kinda crowd he hangs around with?”
“Not anymore. I think he’s lost touch with his Air Force buddies,” you said, though you tried to think. Your brows furrowed as something occurred to you. “He knew someone at work, at the museum. Another security guard on his same shift. After they cut his hours down to part-time, Charlie said the guy knew how to get extra work.”
���Okay, that’s definitely where we start,” said Russell. “Let me just give Dory a call. If I don’t let her know I’m in town, I don’t even wanna know the consequences.”
You laughed through your tears and tried to brush them away. 
“Yeah, do that. I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble.”
Russell took one look at you, and he tightened his hold on your hand.
“Hey,” he said.
You glanced up at him, as tears clung to your lashes. His heart couldn’t help but clench for you. He really didn’t like to see you like this.
“We’re gonna find him. You’ve got my word,” he said. 
You were desperate to believe him. So you nodded, sniffling as you tried and failed to keep yourself together. You were scared, for the first time in a long time. 
“All right, come ‘ere,” Russell said. When he guided you into his arms, you went willingly. You pressed your face into his chest to hide your weeping. His hold was warm and strong enough to make you feel secure. Just for this moment, you didn’t have to pretend you had everything handled.
“He’s the only family I have,” you reminded him. He nodded.
“I hear ya. We’ll get him home,” he said. “And I am going to call Colter. Don’t worry about the rest. I’ll square it up with him.”
“Russell—” you protested, but he just squeezed you playfully. 
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll pull big brother rank. He’s got no choice,” he joked. 
You shook your head, but you allowed him to comfort you for a bit longer. Because all too soon, you’d have to steel yourself again. You’d have to be the version of yourself that you always had to be, ever since you were fourteen years old.
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You invited Dory over to your house, where the three of you were soon joined by the last of the Shaw siblings: the one you had yet to meet.
Colter made it in time for dinner that afternoon. The tall blonde took up your doorway with his broad shoulders and offered you a polite smile, along with his hand. 
“Hi, I’m Colter,” he said. 
You mentally tripped up a bit as you shook his hand and gave him your name. Did all the Shaw siblings have to be so damn attractive?
“Uh, yes, please come in.” You ushered him into your home and led him into the living room, where Russell stood from the couch. 
“Ahh, there he is,” Russell grinned, slapping his younger brother on the shoulder. 
“Here you are,” Colter gestured at him. “Where the hell did you take off to after last time?”
“Ah, you know. Argentina was fun.”
“I’m sure it was.”
You paused in the doorway, just watching the brothers in mystification. Dory shot you a questioning look as she came over from the kitchen. You met her with raised brows. 
“What?” Dory asked. A smile played on her lips.
“Do all of you have to be so unbelievably pretty?” you whispered over to her. Dory smirked and bumped your shoulder, nodding at Colter. 
“What, you wanna make out with him too?” she teased. 
Your mouth dropped open in disbelief. Dory just laughed and moved on to say hello to the other blonde. She pulled him down into a hug, and he reciprocated warmly.  
Russell then laid a hand on Colter’s shoulder, as well as Dory’s. He wore a big, proud grin.
“Hey. Look at us, huh?” he said. 
Dory sniffed as tears welled up in her eyes, looking up at both of her brothers. Colter wore a more reserved smile, but he did wrap an arm around his sister and thump his older brother on the back.
You smiled. You were lingering by the kitchen doorway. If nothing else, you were glad that this whole mess had been able to bring Dory back together with her family. 
You decided to give them a moment, and you wandered back into the kitchen. There you took a beat for yourself, mainly to breathe.  
When you again thought of Charlie, you had to wonder just what the hell he’d gotten himself into.
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Later, the four of you sat in the living room so you could explain everything you knew so far to Colter. He took all the information in with a pensive expression that didn’t reveal much to you. 
“So you said he was struggling?” he said. 
“Yes, after he got out of the military,” you confessed. “He had a hard time figuring himself out. I got him the job at the museum, but I don’t think it was enough for him.”
“Why is that?” Colter asked. He saw that you were reluctant to explain. “I need to know the full picture of who Charlie is if I’m going to be able to figure out his probable moves.”
You sighed. “Well, he was seeing a VA psychiatrist for a while. They wanted to put him on antidepressants, but he stopped going. He…started self-medicating instead.”
That part was hard to admit, but it was the truth. You couldn’t pretend it wasn’t any longer. 
“What substances?” Colter asked. 
“Alcohol, mainly,” you replied. “At his worst, there were hard drugs, but I got him to tone it down just to weed every now and then.”
You bit at your thumbnail out of habit, but you forced yourself to stop, folding your hands in your lap. You didn’t see judgment in Colter’s eyes, just him taking in the information. You couldn’t help but glance at Dory, where you found her sympathy. She knew enough about what you’d been dealing with for the past few years. Russell seemed understanding as well. 
“Anything else I should know?” Colter asked. You shook your head. You felt bad about revealing Charlie’s business like this, but you knew it was the only way to help him. Still, you felt you had to defend him a little.
“Look, my brother has his problems, but he’s a good man,” you said. “He, um…he basically half raised me, after our parents died.”
Dory also knew this story. She rested a hand on your back, and you gave her what smile you could. 
“How old were you?” Russell asked. He earned your attention, and you met his sympathetic gaze.
“Fourteen,” you answered. “It was a car accident.”
He took that in, nodding slowly. “I’m sorry.”
The way he met your eyes when he said it, you believed him. You subtly cleared your throat and directed the conversation back.   
“So, I don’t have a lot of money. But I can give you something for your services,” you said to Colter. Both Russell and Dory met you with similar looks. 
“I’ve got it,” Dory says, before Russell had the chance. Colter waved her off though.
“In this case, it’s not necessary,” he said, focusing on you again. “So Charlie was working at the local museum?”
You breathed a note of relief at his generosity. Dory, Russell, and now Colter…they were all good people in their own way. You felt emotion rise in your throat.
“Yes, it’s about ten minutes away,” you managed to reply. “It’s closed now, but his coworker could be on shift. They always have security in place.”
You grabbed your purse to go with them when Colter and Russell stood, but the former raised a placating hand. 
“It’s best if you stayed here,” Colter said.
Your brows rose. “I don’t think so.”
Colter’s mouth parted, and he blinked, like he hadn’t expected you to push back quite like that; calm and matter of fact.
“Ah, well, it’s really for your safety—”
“I’m not going to sit and wait,” you said. “That’s all I’ve been doing for months. I may not be an expert tracker, or have been in the army, but I do know my brother. And we are going to find him.”
Behind you, Dory was giving Colter a warning shake of her head. She knew just how stubborn you could be. Meanwhile, Russell came up on your other side with a smile.
“What’s the harm in her coming along to the museum?” he said, sliding his brother a teasing look. “Unless the T. rex wakes up all the mummies, Ben Stiller style.”
You wanted to point out that that wasn’t exactly the plot of Night at the Museum, but you held it in with a smile. You gave Colter an expectant look.
He sighed at Russell’s antics, but he turned to you with a nod.
“Okay, let’s go,” he said. 
“I’ll head home then,” said Dory. “Call me if you need anything.” 
You gave her a hug after she gathered up her purse. 
“Thank you,” you whispered.
“It’s going to be okay,” she said, rubbing your back. “Colter’s the best.” 
“All right, fine. And what am I? Chopped liver?” Russell remarked, gesturing wide with his hands. You all filtered out of your house, and you locked the door behind you.  
“Oh, you’re special, all right,” Dory quipped back, but she gave her eldest brother a warm hug as well, then patted Colter on the arm before she left.
Russell shot Colter a playful smirk. “I got the hug.”
Colter rolled his eyes and pointed over to his big pickup truck. 
“Just get in the car, please.”
You had to smile at all their sibling teasing. It reminded you of how you and Charlie used to cut up, when things were good. On your way down the driveway, you hesitated by the Chevy Chevelle parked next to your own car. She was still black and sleek and beautiful.
You happened to glance up, and there was Russell, getting into his brother’s pickup. He winked at you across the driveway. You turned your face to hide your smile (and your blush) as you climbed into your car.
Colter noted the exchange when he buckled up into the driver’s seat. He watched Russell do the same on the passenger side, all while wearing a certain smile on his face. When he noticed how Colter was looking at him, his brows raised.
“What?” said Russell.
“What was that?” Colter asked.
“Nothing.”
“Yeah, right,” Colter chuckled. He began to pull the car out of the driveway after you in your car, so he could follow you. “What, do you two have a thing or something? Is that why she called you before me?”
Russell shrugged, but his smile was telling. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Mhmm. Convincing,” Colter said, but his lips tugged upward as well. His good humor diminished though, when he considered the last time he saw his brother. “How’s the arm?”
Russell gave a thumbs up with his left arm—the one that previously had a bullet run through it. It was still healing, even now.
“It’s good,” he said.
“Did you see a doctor?”
“Sure did.”
Riiiight. Another thing Colter wasn’t sure was the truth, but he’d give Russell that one.
“And that unfinished business?” Colter asked.
Russell’s smile faded, but he nodded. “Finished.”
After a moment, Colter nodded as well. 
“Okay,” he said. 
Something occured to him then. He paused, and he reached into his pocket. He held up a small, closed pocketknife with a wooden handle, and he gave it back to Russell. It had the man's name carved on the side.
Russell's smile returned as he flipped the old keepsake through his fingers.
"Thanks for keeping it safe for me," he said.
Colter smiled back. "Thanks for trusting me with it."
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Colter parked next to you at the museum. It was closed, but the security guard, Jimmy, did know your brother. 
“I haven’t seen Charlie since he quit last week,” Jimmy claimed.
“He quit?” you said. “They told me he just never came back.”
“Yeah, well, same thing,” he said.
The front doors of the museum opened, and out came Dr. Feinman, your former boss, and the Head Manager. You left Jimmy’s questioning up to Russell and Colter with a meaningful look, and you went to intercept Feinman.
“Hi, sir, how’re you doing?” you asked. Your name fell from his lips in surprise. 
“My dear, it’s good to see you, but why are you here after hours?” he asked, his British accent lilting.
“I’m trying to find Charlie. He’s been missing, well, officially for about a week,” you said. “I was actually surprised to see you here so late.”
The man cleared his throat. He smoothed a hand over his tie and suit jacket.
“Yes, well, we could’ve used Charlie’s help. We’ve had to double our security efforts,” he said. “We’re currently dealing with a sensitive issue, so the museum will be closed until it is resolved.”
“You’re doubling your security efforts… Was something stolen?” you asked. 
Feinman clearly didn’t want to tell you this, but you knew you’d hit the nail on the head by the look on his face.
“Please, keep that information to yourself,” he said. 
“What was stolen?” you asked in concern. 
“I’m afraid I cannot disclose that information. Not even for you, dear,” he said. “I do hope you find your brother though.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that, and as a matter of fact,” you began, but Feinman waved an apologetic hand.
“I’m sorry, I’m afraid I’m in a terrible rush just now. But call my office tomorrow and Brenda will help you with whatever you may need,” he said. “Good evening.”
“Wait, Dr. Feinman,” you tried, but he was already breezing past you and heading toward his Mercedes in the parking lot.
Meanwhile, Colter and Russell weren’t having much better luck with Jimmy. 
“Look, I really don’t know where Charlie is,” he said. “Haven’t seen or heard from him since he took off.”
“He said you connected him with someone who could give him some work on the sly,” Russell said, leveling a hand at the man’s chest. “Who did you connect him with, and what kind of work are we talking?”
Jimmy blew out a breath, like this was really inconveniencing his day. (Or night, at this point.)
“What, you’ve got somewhere to be?” Colter said. “You’re getting paid to stand right here, and we have no problem sharing your shift all night. You might as well just tell us what we want to know.”
Jimmy rubbed the back of his neck in annoyance.
“All right,” he snapped. “I hooked him up with this guy I knew through a mutual acquaintance, who just needed some muscle. I guess you could call it private security.”
“A mutual acquaintance?” Colter repeated. 
“What’re you, James Bond? Who did you connect him with?” Russell pressed.
Jimmy was reluctant to talk. You came back over to join them, and the security guard became even more tight-lipped.
“You guys should go. I don’t have to talk to you, and I’ve got a job to do,” he said.
When he tried to continue his patrol around the museum, you stepped deliberately in his way. You didn’t have the patience for this, and you would no longer be a doormat, letting the Goldsteins and the Feinmans of this world push past you.
“Look, Jimmy, if you don’t give us something we can go on to find my brother, you know where I’m going to go?” you asked. But you spoke before he could respond. “To the police. And your name is the only one I have to give them. Now, if you don’t want that to be you, then give me a different name.”
Jimmy looked down at you, and then over at your intimidating shadows, Russell and Colter. Jimmy sighed.
“Eddie,” he gave, finally.
Russell raised his hands, as if to say, Is that it?
“What, Eddie Vedder? Eddie who? Come on,” Russell said.
“Eddie Mendez,” Jimmy replied in a lowered voice. “I don’t know where he lives. I don’t have his number. And that 'mutual acquaintance' is doing some time in lockup. But Eddie hangs out at a bar called Howley’s.”
You and Russell shared a meaningful look at that. You turned back to Jimmy. 
“Okay. What was stolen here at the museum?” you said. “That’s why it’s been closed, right?” 
“I don’t know,” Jimmy said. “I wasn’t on shift, and Dr. Feinman keeps a tight lid on that kind of thing.”
“We’ll need to get into his office then,” Colter said. 
You blinked wider at Colter. Wait, was he really suggesting you guys break into the museum?
Jimmy pointed to the black device attached to the ceiling above them. 
“See the cameras?” he said. “That's not happening on my dime.”
Colter looked up, and he saw the cameras strategically installed across the front of the museum. 
“Then take us where the cameras don’t see,” he said.
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You, Colter, and Russell were able to break into the museum via a storage unit door, thanks to Jimmy’s texted instructions. You couldn’t believe you were actually doing this, but it was for Charlie, you reminded yourself.
You remembered where to find Feinman’s office. You paid for a lot of your undergrad expenses, namely your books and tuition, by working full-time as an office assistant here, and the occasional tour guide. 
You led them to the room where the inventory records were kept. Colter gave you his gloves so you didn’t leave prints, and you were able to pinpoint what was labelled as missing from the latest shipment. 
“Oh great,” you muttered. 
“What was taken?” Colter asked.
“A collection of Native American weapons. Dated almost eight hundred years old,” you said, shaking your head. “The collection is valued at $1.5 million dollars.”
Russell and Colter shared a look. 
“That’s some big motive,” Russell said. 
“When did they go missing?” Colter asked. 
“Almost two weeks ago,” you said. Your brows furrowed the more you read, as you realized something. “Just a few days before Charlie left the museum…” 
The timing wasn’t lost on anyone. But if Charlie was a suspect, Feinman hadn’t let on to that at all. You checked the exact date the artifacts went missing again: a Tuesday night. Charlie didn’t typically work on Mondays or Tuesdays, you realized. And he’d left after the artifacts went missing. So maybe they hadn’t thought to question him yet. One small blessing.  
You sighed. With that information gathered, the three of you put back everything you uncovered and left the building the same way you came in. Jimmy was nowhere in sight, probably patrolling the other end of the museum on purpose.
When you all made it back to the parking lot, you turned to Colter and Russell.
“Okay, what’s next?” you asked. “Howley’s right? To find Eddie.”
“Actually, I think it’s best Russell and I take it from here,” Colter said. “We don’t know what kind of character Eddie Mendez is, but from how reluctant Jimmy was to tell us, it doesn’t sound good.”
You opened your mouth to argue, but Russell drew closer and touched your arm. You could see in his face that he agreed with his brother, even though he hadn’t said anything yet.
“Look, you’ve been a huge help,” he said. “But let us work on this, okay? We’ll call you when we find something.”
Still, your lips pursed. “Russell, he’s my brother.”
“I know. Punching out drunks is one thing, but this might be a little different,” he said, grasping your arms gently. “Will you give me some peace of mind, knowing you’re home safe?”
He brushed one of his thumbs along your skin. Already you had goosebumps. From the cold chill on the air, or from him, you weren’t sure. But that simple touch, along with his earnest, imploring gaze broke you down.
“All right. I get it. I’m not the Special Ops guy,” you said. “But call me afterward so I know how it went.”
“Okay, will do,” Russell agreed. He let you go so you could go to your car. You shot the brothers one last look before you climbed in and peeled out of the parking lot.
Russell expelled a sigh of relief. He got into the passenger side of his brother’s pickup while Colter started it up.
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Thanks to the late hour, and how little traffic there was on the road, it didn’t take you long to get home.
You’d debated whether you should just go to Howley’s anyway, but you didn’t want to get in the way, or make Russell worry for that matter. You smiled, despite yourself.
His touch had tingled across your arms, and whenever he absently laid a hand on the small of your back, supportive or guiding.
Thinking about him just made your heart ache. Because after this was over, he’d be gone again—on a new mysterious job, perhaps on the other side of the world.
You’d been regretting how you left things with him at the bar for months, but now you were glad you hadn’t gone any further with him that night. Your heart was too easily ensnared, it seemed, and Russell didn’t seem to be a “strings attached” kind of guy.
When you parked in front of your house, you let out a tense breath. Russell and Colter would find Charlie. You believed in them. You just hoped your brother was all right, wherever he was.
You pulled your cell out of your purse to call Dory as you headed for the front door. You wanted to give her an update and let her know that you were back at home.
The call began to ring just as you slipped your key into the lock. Unfortunately, you never got a chance to open it.
A strong pair of arms wrapped around you from behind and yanked you back, and a firm hand over your mouth smothered your scream.
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AN: 🫣 *Whispers* Sorryyy. But hey! What did you think of the reader's reunion with Russell, as well as the little Shaw Family Reunion? Plus, we got a bit of the reader working with Russell and Colter on the case.
Now, the real timer starts...
Next Time:
You were led into what sounded like a warehouse. You couldn’t know for sure with this musty bag over your head and your wrists bound together with zip ties, but you clenched your teeth and tried to stop sniffling. Your fear made your heart pump fast and loud in your ears.
Voices echoed around you, arguing, yelling about shipments. You were shoved hard to the ground, and you gasped, instinctively throwing your hands out when your knees hit the hard cement. 
“No…” 
That voice was all too familiar. 
▶️ Keep Reading: PART 3
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greynatomy · 10 months ago
Text
unexpected
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katie mccabe x reader
this was requested from wp
kinda made caitlin as the ‘bad guy’ but it’s for the plot
i also updated my rules for requesting and added the footballer who i’ll take requests for
———
Another day, another training done for the Arsenal women’s team. Katie sat on the sidelines, catching her breath and winding down from the scrimmage. As she’s drinking from her bottle, a shadow casts over her.
“Hi, Katie.”
“Caitlin.” She acknowledges the Australian.
“Uh, well, I was wondering if you wanted to try this restaurant I found last week?”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. They have really amazing food. So?”
“Yeah, sure. I’ll tell the team.”
“No, wait.” She tries to clear up her intentions, but Katie already walked away. “Great.”
Two hours later, the whole team had met at ‘Sapori’ and waited at the front of the building for everyone to show up.
“Hey.”
Looking to her left, she see’s Caitlin shuffling closer to her.
“Hi.”
“This is a really great restaurant. The ambiance is amazing so I’m glad you’re here to try it out.” Caitlin breaks the moment of awkwardness.
Katie’s lips form a tight smile. “Yeah, I’ve only heard great things.”
“Alright, let’s head in.” They heard Leah say as everyone that could make it has finally shown up.
It took a while for everyone to figure out where ghey want to sit, but they made it work. Katie took her place at one end of the table, Caitlin taking place on her left side.
Conversations were flowing freely, everyone with a smile on their face. Katie was chatting it up with Beth and Viv when she feels a hand delicately going up and down her arm, making her flinch her arm away.
“What’re you doin’?” Katie snaps, eyebrows furrowed.
“Sorry, just wanted your attention.” Caitlin frowns.
“Okay.” She slowly nods. “Just don’t do that again.”
The food came out soon after, everyone hungry and diggin in.
“Sorry, excuse me? We didn’t order these.” Leah spoke up when extra dishes were placed on the table. Katie didn’t care, she dug into all that she could reach.
“These are just some dishes that the owner would like you all to try.”
“Well, please thank her for us.”
Everyone was in their own little groups talking about anything and everything at the same time. A couple of moments go by when Katie feels small hands on her thighs. Looking down she sees a little girl who seems to try and get onto her lap. So what does she do? she helps the girl up, getting her comfortable on her lap and wrapping an arm around her.
Said child, once content on Katie’s lap, grabs the fork and starts eating the food in front of her. Katie occasionally wipes her mouth with a napkin, the child unbothered by it.
Too occupied in helping the kid eat, she doesn’t see the looks on her friends’ faces. The group silently observes Katie and the kid, seeing how comfortable they are with each other.
The kid turns in Katie’s lap, hands going on both cheeks pulling her close. Katie thinks she’s going for a kiss so she leans down, except instead of a kiss, the gnocchi that was once in the kid’s mouth, was now in Katie’s.
“Ugh, Em! Not again.” She spits it out, wiping her mouth after. All Emmy does is laugh and goes back to eating. A couple of throats can be heard clearing, making Katie look up to see all her friends staring at her. “What?”
“What do you mean ‘what?’ You’ve got a child on your lap.”
“Ye’ and?”
“Who’s child is that?”
“Completely hers.” A voice speaks up before Katie could answer. “She’s a menace and gets it from her mammy.”
“Mamma! Io mangio!”
“I can see! You’ve got sauce all over your face.” You wipe her face with a napkin. “How are you guys enjoying everything?” You ask the group.
“Oh, it’s amazing! Best thing I’ve ever eaten!” Beth exclaims.
“Who are you?” Caitlin asks.
“I am the owner of Sapori, Y/N McCabe. So nice to meet all of you. And yes, I know the last name isn’t Italian, but I just so happened to fall for an Irish.”
“Oi! Don’t make it seem like that’s a bad thing.”
“Oi!” Emmy echos.
“Wait!” Kyra says very loudly. “McCabe? So does that mean Katie’s your—”
“—Wife? Yes, unfortunately.”
“You’re beeing cheeky. Stop it.” She boops your nose.
You start to pick up some of the empty plates, giving everyone a smile.
“Hey, hey, hey! What’re you doin’?”
“I’m gonna take these back?”
“You’re not allowed to carry anything!”
“Katie, babe. I’m pregnant, not crippled. Plus, I’m barely even showing.”
“Aww, you’re pregnant?” Kyra goes to touch your stomach, but her hand gets smacked away by Katie.
“Katie! Be nice. And yes, I am.”
As the rest of the team fusses over Emmy and your belly, Caitlin decides to speak to Katie.
“So, you’re married?”
“Yup.”
“Why’d you make it seem like you were interested in me.” Katie didn’t know if she was being serious or not, but started laughing out loud.
“I don’t know what you’re on about mate. Probably just a figment of your imagination.”
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alottiegoingon · 7 months ago
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art fair
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jackie taylor x fem!reader
summary: jackie taylor is the elementary school's art teacher.
warnings: too much fluff, jackie and reader being adorable, not proofread
you weren't expecting to stay for any longer than five days this time. that was the initial plan and the words you had said to your parents on the phone before you arrived to wiskayok, new jersey.
the second high school was over, you took the first bus to new york and never looked back. okay, never was a strong word. despite the strong feeling you had to free yourself from the place where you had an awful time in high school, sometimes you would come back to visit your family and your sister, in special.
not wanting to miss her growing up, you had to work extra shifts on the bookstore to pay for a decent looking car, capable of going back and forth from new jersey to new york twice in a month.
now, it was an special occasion. for her 8th birthday, you promised her that you would spend the week in your family home and spend time doing fun things. and by fun things, she meant fun things for her.
the first thing you were asked as soon as you put your feet inside was "what did you get me?"
after wishing your sister a happy birthday and watching her open her present, you sink into the couch with drowsy eyes after some good two hours driving, feeling exhausted. you were so tired that you weren't even paying attention to what the small human full of energy was chattering around you.
"what do you think we should do first? we can go roller skating!"
"bug, i hate roller skating. you know that." god, you remember the last time you fell on your face. you wore a purple eyes for weeks.
"...or we could go get me new books! mom promised me you would go out with me." she keeps talking, not paying attention to you. that was going to be a very long week.
the very next day, you could barely open your eyes when your sister forced you to wake up early and drive her to school, affirming that it was part of the birthday package you promised her even though you didn't actually recall that
[🎨]
you had the brilliant idea to go straight home after dropping the kid at school and sleep for the rest of the day. or until she got home with quick loud steps and a vibrant high-pitched voice.
your great idea fell apart when you were effectively blackmailed by a tiny human dragging you to her classroom, excited to show you everything. you weren’t even sure if you were allowed in there but you followed her anyway.
"that's cool, bug! you did that?" you encouraged her regardless of the many screams of the other kids hurting your ears, right after seeing the paint strokes in a small canvas forming the figure of a person. for a eight year old, the kid had some actual talent. it was better than what you could do.
she nods, extremely proud of herself. "ms. taylor is teaching us how to paint for next week's art fair. you’re coming, right?"
five days. five days was all you could do. it was a pain in the ass to convince your boss to let you skip work for a week and you only managed to do it cause she was a friend of the family. more than that and you would turn into a jobless woman.
“i’ll see what i can do, alright?” you get on your knees to match her height. “now i’m gonna go home and later we can watch…” your voice trails off when your attention is stolen by a woman entering the classroom.
wearing baggy and colorful clothes with glasses that made her look even more attractive, she had a few books threatening to fall from her hands and loose paper sheets. nothing like the old women you used to have for a teacher when you were young.
“good morning, party people! sorry i’m late today.” she doesn’t seem to notice you, too busy and overwhelmed while organizing her desk. she was probably used to be surrounded by loud gremlins all the time, you thought.
she was about to say something but her lips closed after not even a second, knitted brows and an uncertain but polite grin painted on her face. “oh, and i think we have a visitor today.”
and your world fully stops when she looks at you. flushed cheeks as you were practically drooling.
“that’s my sister, she's visiting for my birthday!” the little one fills the awkward silence, not looking like she cares about your unexpected loss of words.
“aw, this is so sweet.” she frowns for a second and all of sudden, her eyes are on you “and are you having a good time down there?” she chuckles, causing your heart to skip a beat, and only then you notice your knees hurting. you were still on the floor, looking like a full time idiot. you hear the other kids the room laughing as well.
“yeah, i was just… tying her shoes.” you stand on your feet as quickly as possible, nearly losing balance.
“no, you weren’t. my shoes don’t have-.” your hand flies over your sister direction to cover her mouth.
your legs were feeling like thin sticks as you walked towards the light haired woman, extending your hand to her. “hi, sorry.” you said falteringly.
“it’s all good. i like to stay on the floor sometimes too.” she offers you an empathetic smile. “i’m jackie.” she finally shakes your hand.
“jackie.” you echo her, subtly shaking your head. it felt like you were absorbing her name into your soul. even her name sounded like something that could be in a movie. “hi. i’m-“
“i know. your sister talks a lot about you. but i guess i wasn’t expecting you to be like this.” you freeze again.
“like what?" your voice trembles as you ask.
she didn’t say anything but you feel her eyes wandering around you while she smiles.
jackie gave you an excuse, apologizing for interrupting the conversation but emphasizing how she desperately needed to start the class. she was already late and you felt bad for taking so much of her time.
“it was nice to finally meet you.” is all she says and you made sure to say it back. before walking through the door, you quickly wave at your sister, not wanting to disrupt them anymore.
you immediately gave up on the idea of sleeping for the entire day. how could you when you had just met jackie taylor?
overthinking everything was like a piece of cake for you, as easy as blinking. but it wasn't hard to overthink things when jackie's first impression of you was probably a terrible one, knees on the floor and making a fool of yourself.
you were happy to welcome your sister back home from school, disregarding the fact that she told your parents that you were drooling over her art teacher on your damn knees. how can kids remember so much?
wanting to know more about her very interesting teacher, with ice cream for dinner, you succeeded in finding out that jackie taylor wasn't a married woman.
"why do you wanna know that?" you struggle to understand the few mumbles thanks to her stuffing her mouth with ice cream.
"okay, i think you had enough." you whisper, slowly moving the bowl away and ignoring her question.
[🎨]
for the next two days, between a bookstore visit or going out for ice cream, you would give jackie taylor a thought. not because you cared or was interested, of course, you were just curious. and you wanted to fix the impression you made on her.
"are you driving me today?" was the question you were asked every morning.
too tired, too sleepy, too early, bad headache, terrible cramps. were all the excuses you gave her so you could have a few more hours of sleep. until the third day.
"school is starting soon!"
"hmm, i don't know if i'm taking you... i'm feeling so-"
"ms. taylor's class is the first one today." you notice her playful tone. she knew you too well.
"good. i'm actually feeling so good today." fast as the wind, you shoot out of the bed.
"you don't have to walk me there anymore. i'm not a baby." the eight year old complains as she notices you following her inside.
"sure, i know. i just wanna make sure you're safe." that wasn't a full lie. yes, you were looking forward to talk to jackie again, but you still cared about your sister.
[🎨]
you were fifteen minutes earlier that the actual class time and by the time you walk into the room, jackie was already there. with your sister going straight to talk to her friends, that was your chance.
"good morning." you timidly knock on the halfway open door, not wanting to scare her.
"hello there!" jackie closes the book that was laying on her big desk in front of her, fixing her gaze on you. lips curving upward. "not tying any shoes this morning?" standing up, she adjusts her slightly crooked glasses as she watches you get closer.
"not today, no. too hard to find any customers." you join her tease, feeling like you have been blessed as she laughs.
"you should try the art exhibition next week. lots of shoes to tie in there." you caught yourself thinking that she may be flirting with you but maybe you were just going crazy for drinking so much coffee lately.
"i would love to tie some stranger's shoes on a school event." playing along, all you could think was that you urgently had to stay for more than just five days. time to beg your boss twice.
"nice! i'll see you there, then." about to end the conversation, jackie's smile widens and the simple act almost makes you fall on your knees again.
"actually..." you fight to not stumble over your words as you create the fastest excuse ever to see her again. "my sister and i are going out for roller skating tomorrow. you should join us."
jackie's gaze lifts back at you, eyebrows raising in curiosity.
"why should i?" she had the casual smirk adorning her face, probably enjoying this entire situation much more than you.
"because... we're going to a park nearby and there's a few tables in there. what's greater to an art teacher than a pretty view to paint?" you were quite proud of how quick your mind worked.
jackie seems to take a brief moment to think about your words, even though she had already made her mind minutes ago.
"it's a deal."
"what? you hate skating. remember when you had a purple eye? that was funny." you turn around to find your sister standing by the door, giggling at the memory of your swollen face. jesus, for how long she was in there?
[🎨]
you met jackie at the park after spending the entire day double-checking your helmet and all of your safety equipment. you couldn't afford to fall again. not this time.
with a huge bag and many art supplies, jackie carefully placed everything on the picnic table while being squeezed in a hug by your sister. the first thing you noticed was how jackie dressed the exact same way out of school. free of any boring clothes and with no glasses this once.
"you actually came." you shyly mirror her grin.
"of course i did. i need to paint something for the fair and i thought that the good old blue sky and pretty trees would do the job."
"so an empty canvas is what made you come?" nervously, your eyes dart back and forth at the brushes on the pine table and her eyes.
"not just that. i think the companny is pretty rad too."
after feeding the ducks with your sibling, you joined jackie by sitting in front of her. she appeared to be so relaxed even when being so gentle and cautious with the paint. you couldn't help but feeling at ease as well.
"found something worthy of being painted by you?"
jackie looks at you over the canvas with rosy cheeks and a contented smirk, affirming with her head. "i think i did."
"it's nice of you to stay longer." her narrowed focused eyes are back on her work, sometimes meeting yours.
you didn't remember telling jackie that it wasn't on your initial plan to stay that long and as if she was capable of reading minds, she snorts before explaining herself.
"she told me you wouldn't be here for the art exhibition." her head points at your sister, skating around the small lake.
"she really does talk a lot about me." you joke, referring to what jackie said when you first met her.
"why did you?" eyes locked on the piece of work, jackie tries to sound unbothered.
"stay longer?" she agrees silently.
"i figured that i really like art. and i couldn't miss such an important event for her."
"so your love for art was what made you stay?" jackie questioned and, once or twice, you would catch her more concerned glance at you.
"not just that. i think the art teacher is pretty rad too."
in the middle of longing stares and jackie blushing for the first time, you hear a childish voice calling you.
"aren't you coming? you're so boring!"
snapping out of the jackie taylor effect, you realized that you still haven't fulfilled your promise to skating with your sister.
jackie, not worried about the painting anymore, quickly put on her rollers with a huge beaming expression. without a single effort to stay still on those things, you became aware of how experienced she was.
"come on, i'll help you out." standing in front of you, she offers you a hand and you don't wait much to accept it.
[🎨]
you were a nervous wreck when the big day came and it wasn't even your works that were going to be exposed to people. in honor of jackie, you tried to wear something formal like a nice looking suit and elegant shoes. a bit too much for a simple school event but it was much more than that to you.
at school, you were surrounded by an impressive quantity of paintings already framed on walls. some of them were adorable, made by younger students.
being pulled by your sleeves, you spend a few minutes in the area where your sibling's works were hanging in and seeing her so happy made you pleased to your decision to stay.
with a single poppy in hands, you find jackie talking to someone, probably a parent. at the exact moment your eyes met, she quickly excuse herself from the conversation to walk towards you with energetic steps.
"all of this looks amazing. you look amazing." is all you can say, not caring about the ear to ear grin on your lips.
"hi! you look great too. i like the suit. so fancy." her hand tenderly brushes over your shoulder, feeling the soft fabric of your clothes.
"it's a special occasion, right? and, here, i got you something."
jackie's face radiates happiness at the second she sees her favorite flower being handled to her, eyes sparkling at you.
"thank you! how did you know i like them?" she tucks the flower into her hair, prettier than ever.
"you know, she talks a lot." you two share a laugh. "aren't you gonna show me your work?"
as her silky hands covered your eyes from behind you, she guides you to the wall with all of her artworks.
"you ready?" your nod in response and she let go of your eyes.
as soon as you open them, one specific framed canvas catches your attention. it was jackie's first view from when she was sitting at the picnic table the other day. you and your sister feeding the ducks on the lake, with the exact same clothes you were wearing. there was no doubt.
"jackie..." you gasp, stunned, jaw almost hitting the floor.
"you like it? i thought it would be something worthy to paint." she's nervous. you can hear her shaky voice as she speaks.
instead of saying something, you spin around to face jackie behind you. with trembling hands, you trace her jawline before pulling her in for a kiss.
you were a big fan of art now.
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paradiseismine · 2 months ago
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Instant Chemistry (part 1) - Finn Wolfhard x reader
Pairing: Finn Wolfhard x actress!reader
Warnings: none yet, but of course, this fic will be packed with smut in its future chapters.
Summary: reader is an actress and her agent has a surprise for her - a hot scene in an indie film with one of her favorite actors, Finn Wolfhard.
Format: This is NOT a one shot like the ones I usually post, it’ll likely be a 4 part story (maybe longer).
Love note from Nina: I had a dream about Finnie recently and decided to write it down into a fic. Hope you like it 🫰🏻
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Everyone in the industry plays an archetype: that was a given. Some actresses were the goody two shoes, some were femme fatales, some were girls next door. And as crazy as that might sound, you were growing into a femme fatale. That meant that showing some skin and partaking in more sensual roles was bound to happen - and it’s not like it bothered you.
Leo, your agent, had gotten you pretty far for a 22 year old with your background: you had gone from model, to extra in some bigger productions, to main star in a few indie films. You had started acting classes a couple years ago, and was trying really hard to become an actual actress, and make a living solely out of your acting.
One day, you made Leo a huge favor by preventing his future husband of figuring out Leo’s proposal before it actually happened, as it was meant to be a surprise. “I owe you one” he had texted you later that evening, “and I’ll make it count when I pay you back”.
Several weeks had gone by and a project you were once dying to get your hands on was finally going strong. You had gotten home after a long week of shooting your new indie film - a complex and delicate story about a young marginalized prostitute whose dream was to have a romantic relationship and live a normal life. It had some intense sex scenes, but lots of dramatic charge that would surely put your name on the spotlight. With your body exhausted but with your heart smiling, you fell asleep in your new apartment in L.A.
“Morning, rising star” you woke up to Leo texting you, your phone buzzing with his messages. “Remember that one I owe you? Just paid it”.
“lol what did you do?” you responded, the tips of your fingers rushing through the keyboard on your phone screen, curious. Leo was always full of surprises, and you loved that about him.
“You’d told me your fav tv show was stranger things, right?”
“Yeah, so?”
“Well, I think I just got one of the ST kids to be with you on a spicy scene next week hehehe” he texted, and your mouth went completely agape. “You’re welcome in advance, darling” he added, his jokingly cocky tone nearly audible.
“omg who????”
And… he didn’t text you back.
Your head was cooking for the entire weekend, trying to figure out which ST actor Leo had convinced to partake in the movie. He had said “ST KIDS”, so it was one of the core four, for sure. You crossed them out in your head after some extensive online research: Noah Schnapp is gay, so he probably wouldn’t be comfortable with such intense sex scenes with a woman… Ok, he’s not it. Gaten Matarazzo is probably busy with some Broadway play, he always is. Not him as well.
Finn Wolfhard is always juggling twenty different gigs at the same time. You wanted him the most, but it was very unlikely he’d take the role. So, Caleb McLaughlin was your best chance. He was surely a darling to work with, you’d heard, so you were still excited to meet him, of course.
As you entered the set on Monday morning, your mind was hung up on the idea that Caleb was your special guest. You’d rehearsed in your head how you’d introduce yourself to him, the things you’d say, everything.
Your brain turned into complete putty once you spotted FINN WOLFHARD sitting on a foldable chair, holding a stack of paper, eyes roaming through the script. Fuck. It was him.
You’d get to kiss him, to rub your body all over him. Not for a minute. Not for an hour. But for a whole day. Heck, maybe even two days. And you’d still get PAID for it. It seemed nearly illegal that a job would do that.
You approached him slowly, trying to gather words into your mouth to simply greet him. Soon, he raised his eyes from the script and spotted you.
- Hi - he smiled sweetly. - You must be y/n, right? I’m Finn, nice to meet you.
He shook your hand politely, and you tried your best to give him a firm handshake (Leo always says that a good handshake is important in a Hollywood career), preventing your fangirl reaction from shining through.
- Oh, hi - you smiled back at him, still trying to seem normal and unimpressed. - That’s me. Should we get to the chemistry read? I’m so excited for this project, you have no idea.
- Me too! I loved the script so much, this is just great - he flipped through the pages, his teeth showing through a cute shy smile.
- Quite a departure from fighting inter dimensional monsters, isn’t it? - you joked.
- Definitely - he laughed, standing up to follow you towards the chemistry reading table.
Once everyone was sat down and settled, the reading began. Finn would be one of your character’s clients, and was only supposed to be in a scene or two, in a cameo appearance type of thing. But at the end of the reading, that seemed likely to change.
The chemistry between the two of you was electric, the director had said. The whole crew was amazed at how naturally you seemed attracted to each other just through your words, how easily the scenes would develop. From a small role, Finn was now asked to play your character’s main love interest.
He called his agent on the spot and pushed back a few band gigs on his schedule and said yes to being half naked with you for a few more days. I mean, the project itself was an indie film, so it wasn’t even good money. His main reason to take the part must’ve been you.
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lunaviee · 2 years ago
Note
can i request where reader cant go to their match and they got angry which makes them say the word "i shouldve invite *ex's name*, she wouldve come." and reader reaction can be up to you! with rin and maybe chigiri? thank you so much and please stay hydrate! sending loves <33
OHHH MYYY GODDD ANONNN……..
the way i gasped so loud when i saw this OMGOMG
okay so, idk if you’re wanting PURE ANGST for this but like i’ll add fluff at the end anyway bc the more the merrier😇😁😁
OKAY SO UMM..i’m a procrastinator, it’s no secret. so uhh chigiris will be posted when i remember to work on it, sorry😭
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“are you serious?” “you’re..kidding, right?”
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chigiri hyoma and rin itoshi x reader (seperate) click here for chigiri’s
tags/warnings: angst to comfort, swearing, arguing, NOT PROOFREAD…
synopsis: if he’s so insistent on you being there to support him, why doesn’t he do the same?
a/n: i am SO SORRY this took so long </3 i got busy but this request is soo..chefs kiss i hope i did it justice😓
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RIN ITOSHI—
the faint mumbles from the tv filled rin’s apartment as you made a quick snack to eat, knowing your boyfriend should be home any minute. you sat down on the couch to eat, turning the tv volume up as background noise while you looked out the window. it faced a gorgeous view of your city, along with a nice view of the sunset.
after some time, you were back in the kitchen to clean up a bit.
*click*
the jingling of keys indicated rin was home, a tad later that usual but you payed no mind to it.
“hey,” you smiled, “welcome home, how was practice?” arms wrapping around his neck as he set his bag down, taking his shoes off. his arm snaked around your waist to pull you closer to him, planting a kiss on your temple.
“eh, same as always. those lukewarm lunatics don’t know what they’re doing”
you hummed in response, rin pulling away from you to look you in the eye. he spoke again. “we have a game in a few days. you’re going, right?” it sounded more like a demand than a question.
“oh uh about that” you broke eye contact, a twinge of nervousness tainted your face. “i was given an extra shift at work so i’ll be swamped, i don’t think i’ll be able to make it, sorry”
his before softened gaze now pierced right through you, full of annoyance. “really? i thought you’d want to come to my games.” his arms left your torso and flopped to his side, lower back resting on the counter.
“i do! i always do..rin you know this, i go to your games when i can but lately i’ve just been more busy an-” you rambled.
he cut you off, “quit the excuses.”
“excuse me?” you replied, shocked at how his silver tongue was so quick to interrupt you.
“i get it. you’re busy. you don’t have to make up these half-baked excuses and try to make me feel better.” he moved from the counter, straightening his back and showing his full height, looking down on you as if you were less than him at that moment.
“excuses? rin, what the hell are you talking about? i’m being serious.” confusion swirled in your mind, what was up with him??
“you know, i never had these problems with *ex’s name*. she was always happy to come to my games. no excuses, no lies. every game, she was there. why can’t you be like that?” rin’s venom stained words singed into your brain, glints of annoyance pooled in his eyes. a twinge of guilt settled in his gut the minute those words spilled out of his mouth, but he payed no mind to it.
“what?” your eyes widened in disbelief, “are you fucking serious?”
how could he say that? sure, rin was petty and used bitter language when he was upset, but comparing you to his ex? that was a new low, even for him. after all of the crap you two talked about when mentioning both of your exes in the past, you’d assume he’d want absolutely nothing to do with her. right?
“why wouldn’t i be?” not once did his gaze leave your figure, was he serious? “she actually took my career seriously.”
you were beyond shocked, eyes narrowing as your brows knitted together. “invite her then.” you retorted. “maybe i will, maybe then i’ll have someone who actually supports me there.” he scoffed.
his words made your blood boil, eye twitching before you spoke again, “get out.” you gritted through your teeth, fingers fiddling with the hem of your (his) sweater as to not lose your cool.
“what?” he scoffed, not expecting such a response (he really should have, what was he thinking??)
“did i fucking stutter? or is your skull too thick to hear what i have to say. get. out.”
the strikers face further scrunched, yet not moving an inch. “this is my apartment. if you’re upset, then leave.” he brushed past you without a single regret as to what he had said, not entirely believing you’d actually leave, where else did you have to go?
“fine then.” you slipped your shoes on while dialing a number on your phone before slamming the door, leaving the rin to sit with his thoughts. you had much, much more to say, but the thought of having to stay in the same vicinity as you made your stomach churn.
who did you call? why, your best friend of course, who else would you trust with this information. sure, rin’s teammates weren’t bad people to open up to, but you needed someone who could understand your feelings through angry sobs and incoherent mumbles.
it was only a matter of time before you were sat on yours friends bed, angry tears burning your cheeks as you rambled on about how dumb your boyfriend was.
“break up with him” your friend mumbled, only half joking. “me personally, i wouldn’t stay with a man, nah, a BOY who brings up his ex when he’s mad..”
you lifted your head from the tear stained pillow to meet your friend’s gaze. “yeah but……ugh i hate when you’re right” your sentence ending with a laugh
“i’m kidding..kind of” she sneered “either way, screw him, ghost his ass until he comes crying at your doorstep”
“what??” you shot up from your position, now almost on top of your friend. she was faced you, a more serious expression painting her face
“seriously though, you shouldn’t have to deal with that shit [n/n], he has the be the one to apologize.” you nodded in response, good thing your friend had a bit more common sense than you did in that moment.
“yeah, you’re right, thanks”
“any time, now do you wanna stay here or are you good to go home?”
“i’ll stay here and bug you more”
“okay then” she laughed out, the two of you now laying on the bed on your backs, staring at the ceiling
• { time skip - two days later } •
the radio silence that came from rin was like torture, did he not care? not a single text or phone call, not even a message given from one of his teammates. it was hard to stay positive.
sure, he deserved the silent treatment, but he was your boyfriend. his company single-handedly made your days better. being separated because of a fight that he didn’t want to resolve was stupid.
your friend tried taking you out today to get your mind off of the situation. it was going well, up until you walked into your favorite cafe.
you were met with a face you were too familiar with. rin’s. his eyes widened in disbelief and he twitched, almost as if he was about to run after you. and so you and your friend took one good look at him and immediately left. if the argument was going to be resolved, it wasn’t going to be in a public cafe.
your friend pushed you by the shoulders as you both shuffled out of the doors, you pulling out your phone to find another place to go to at the same time.
“shit.” was the only thing that rin had managed to mutter out as he saw the two of you running away from the cafe. it’s not that he wanted to avoid you. it’s that he was ashamed. he was scared that nothing he would say would amount to enough of an apology for what he said.
rin was scared that this was the end of you two. his worst fears of losing the one person he knew loved and understood him were coming true and is was his fault. the past few days were filled with doubt and regret, his teammates even noticing his practices were depleting.
the rest of the day came and went, your friend dropped you off back at your apartment where you collapsed on the couch, left with your thoughts once again. you were about to just pass out on your couch and ditch work the next morning, like you have been for the past few days.
that was until you heard a frantic knock on your door, jolting you awake. your worried expression dropped to one of annoyance and bitterness; it was rin. but, he looked different. his usually blank expression was now one of exhaustion and hurt.
he’d been..crying?
your eyes widened in confusion, you opened your mouth to tell him to leave before he cut you off.
“i’m sorry” he blurted out
he was looking down to you, except it was much different than before. rin looked desperate, his eye contact only further confirmed it.
he reached his hand out to place it on your shoulder, hesitating. you opened the door to let him in, sitting on the edge of your couch next to each other.
“i’m so sorry [name].”
“i know.”
“it was stupid, you mean so much to me and i..i ruined it.”
“i know.”
“please, you don’t need to forgive me now i just…”
he paused. rin’s head moved to look at the ground.
“i just need to know you won’t leave me. you can ignore me for as long as you’d like and i’d understand. but just…please i need you back” he begged, small tears brimming at his eyes, what a rare sight to see.
silence fell between the two of you, but it wasn’t like the comfortable silences you’ve shared before. it was tense and awkward.
“okay” your voice was barely above a whisper, “i won’t leave you, i think we both know that” you say with a smile.
rin looked back up at you, eyes wide, full of hope and relief.
“but listen i…” the moonlight only further highlighted just how much the two of you had been crying
“it’s gonna take some time. that was really fucked up, you know that?”
“yeah..yeah i know. i’m sorry. you’re nothing like her i-”
“i know.”
the two of you were now looking at each other, faces flushed from crying and relief. the silence was comfortable again.
“let’s just..go to sleep, yeah? we can talk about it in the morning, i think we both could discuss better afterwards” you offered, leaning closer to the armrest of your couch as you were too tired to go to your bed
rin hummed back in response, laying on your chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist. your hands found their way to his hair, heartbeats practically synchronizing.
“you know..i’m still not going to your game” you whispered, peeking one eye open to watch your boyfriend. he smiled, “i know” a laugh spilled out of his mouth before you both fell asleep.
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adventuringblind · 1 year ago
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Oscar the Matchmaker: Chapter Three
Oscar Jack Piastri x Reader x Max Verstappen
Summary: Jos overhear a conversation and the trio finds themselves in a confrontation
Warnings: Jos being Jos, Oscar throwing hands, implied homophobia and slurs
Notes: I definitely wasn’t listening to eye of the tiger while writing this…
Previous <-
Masterlist
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It’s was only a matter of time until someone noticed. Max had been more then smiley as of late and it wasn’t just because he was dominating the sport. He’d fallen head over heal and looked like a love sick puppy.
His smile tends to grow a little extra when someone brings up either of his partners. He just blamed on the fact he thought they were doing well and had become friends with both.
Christian didn’t fall for it. He wasn’t team principal for nothing. He’s an observant man and had seen it in the way Max moved, his he talked, even in his driving.
Max found himself being pulled aside by Christian into a space where the people either didn’t bother them or didn’t care what they were talking about.
“Care to tell me what has you so happy lately?”
Max panics and stutters, then ends up just shrugging his shoulders. “The weather.” He mentally face palms at the terrible lie.
Christian laughs at him and grabs his shoulders. “It’s a miracle you can make it through interviews sometimes.” He releases him again before continuing. “Are you going to tell me the truth now.”
“First promise me you won’t be mad and that you won’t judge.”
“Would you like me to pinky swear it?”
Max rolls his eyes but continues one. “I’m in a relationship.”
“Well I already knew that part.” A skirt tugs on Christian’s lips. “Who is the lucky lass? Or is it a lad?” The playful eyebrow raise puts Max oddly at ease.
“Both actually.” His hands get clams and he wants nothing more to disappear at the confession. The fear of judgement giving him nervous energy.
“… Like two partners or gender-fluid?” The genuine curiosity in the older males voice made him relax. He wanted to know and was supportive it seems.
“Two Partners. Y/N and Oscar, actually.” He is hopeless. He can’t even say their names without smiling.
Christian is also smiling widely. “I’m so happy for you! Remember this is a safe space and if anyone says anything please let me know. If not afraid to tell someone off.”
Max feels the tension leave his body. His initial panic evaporating into think air. “Thank you, it means a lot really.”
“Are you three going to go public? If so then please tell me sooner rather then later so the team is prepared.”
“No plans for that right now, just figuring things out. But I’ll make sure to let you know.”
Despite their plans to not go public or let more people into their secret, someone was ,siting just around the corner.
~
Max texted them immediately after the conversation. They still had a few hours before the race so he wasn’t to worried about time.
Max: Christian knows
Y/N: … is he upset?
Max: No, he’s actually really supportive
Oscar: interesting turn of events
Max: you two aren’t mad with me?
Y/N: why would we be mad? Christian is basically your dad!
Oscar: we made a decision that we are disowning Jos
Max: I don’t think that’s how that works
Y/N: don’t care. He’s disowned.
Max chuckles at their comments. They are both younger then him but neither would hesitate to protect him from anything. Including his aggressive father.
He didn’t notice a problem at first. He thought it was normal until he got up to formula 1 and Daniel told him that it’s not. Christian and Seb followed after him. Soon Max was in a position where he had to come to terms with his childhood.
He’d yet to do that because despite it all, Jos is still his father and he loves him.
All that to say he wouldn’t be surprised if the female in their trio ended up punching him one day.
~
It had been an absolutely shitty race for her. She’s on the verge of tears when she’s getting ready to leave until Yuki comes sliding around the corner. “They have more stuff to talk about.” She can hear the annoyance in her his voice.
“What if we just run away.”
“I may be fast, but my legs are short. We’d never make it.”
She groans and sends a quick text to the boys telling them she is going to be late and they can leave without her. Instead of the response she was expecting, they said they’d wait for her by the paddock entrance.
She smiled reading the text, then locked her phone again.
~
Her legs feel heavy as she walks through the dark and almost deserted paddock. Her brain has already shut off and she wants nothing more then to curl up with her lovers and sleep until next year.
A pair of heavy footsteps fall in line behind her. She assumes it’s just leftover staff and continues her journey. That is, until she hears the thick Dutch accent of Jos Verstappen. The last person on the planet she wants to see.
“Can we talk for a moment?” He yells out to her.
“I’m late for something, sorry.” She doesn’t look at him. She fears if she does she might not be able to hold her tongue or hands and the last thing she wants to do it get in trouble.
It doesn’t take long for him to catch up. She blames her uncooperative appendages.
“We need to talk.” He grabs her bicep and she yelps in surprise.
“I really am la-“
“You and the Australian keep away from my son.”
She panics. Her breathing gets labored faster then she would’ve liked. Questions fill her mind of how he knows. She tries to yank her arms away but he tightens his grip.
“Never.” She spits. He used his free hand to wipe his face. She can feel him heating with anger as his movements become jagged. She readies herself for the possibility of a swing. At least if he hits her first then she can hit him back.
“Hey! Leave her alone!” The much more soothing Dutch accent yells from behind her.
“Is it true? You’re really lumping yourself in with this nonsense?” Max had almost forgotten why he doesn’t tell his father things. He’d had to relearn everything when he was finally able to spend time with people who wanted him to understand that the internalized homophobia that he’d grown up with was not okay in any sense.
“Yeah, I am.” Max keeps his distance. His father is prone to aggression and Max fears for the girl currently in his hold.
The fear and simultaneous relief flood through him as he pushes her straight to the ground. The look of pain and exhaustion in her eyes is hard to look at.
She doesn’t move. She can’t find the energy to do so.
“Your no son of mine. My son would never be a fa-“ He does not get the chance to finish his sentence. Oscar had connected his fist to the Dutch’s face and sent him stumbling backwards.
She could feel Oscar seething. She’d never seen him lose his temper. Ever. Since she’d known him. He could be cold and calculated but this was a whole new level.
She looked at Max who was now gently hugging Oscar from behind and trying to calm the anger behind the Australians eyes. He also looked at her for some sort of understanding. Neither of them had any clue what to do.
“Say it again. I fucking dare you.” Oscar held his gaze on the older man. It felt as if time had frozen around them. “You have no right to say such things.”
Oh. It clicked for her then. He’d done this before with one of her exes. A few of them actually.
It’s not like she’d never been with a female before. She’d been called that F slur before and it definitely didn’t feel right. Oscar had also punched them. There was no hesitation behind his swing either.
Jos just stares back at them and Max had no other ideas except to get Oscar away before he gets himself in trouble. She watches as he starts tugging him back towards the entrance. Stopping to give you a hand up. Then she held Oscars hand in hers the entire way back to the hotel. Despite his earlier anger, he held her hand so gently and occasionally placed kisses on her knuckles. Reciprocating the action to Max when they came to a stop sign or red light.
He’d still not settled down when they got to the hotel room. His frantic pacing and angry rant seemed to help, but only so much.
“Love, pretty sure there are other ways to help you get some of this energy out.” She purrs. Had she noticed max is turned on? Yes. Is she also turned on? Yes. Have both of them been whispering about the rage fueled Aussie being turned on? Again, yes.
He freezes and eyes both of them with a rather lustful gaze.
Sometimes the best cure to pent up energy is really good sex.
~
Max wakes up to the awful sound of his phone buzzing. The blissful feeling of his lovers tangled in the sheets with him now ruined by the terrible sound.
Still he looks at the caller ID and almost chokes when he sees Christian’s name on his phone.
“Hello?”
“Hey Max… I was wondering if you could shed some light on why your father called to tell me not to let, and I quote, ‘the deranged McLaren Australian’ anywhere near out garage?”
Max laughs. It’s probably not the right time and the other two are now awake and trying to tug him down into the bed, but he can’t help it. “Oscar punched him last night because he used the F word.”
“The F word? Doesn’t Oscar say fuck? I’ve heard him before I think.”
“I should clarify: the F slur.”
Silence falls from the other end of the line. For a moment Max things he lost connection until he hears Christian grumbling. “Tell Oscar he’s allowed in anytime he wants and your father will be receiving a strongly worded letter about how he’s not welcome back.”
Again, Max can only laugh at the situation and how it’s unfolded. He’s not complaining though. It’s nice knowing that he doesn’t always have to fight for himself.
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number1mingyustan · 2 years ago
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Habit (part i.) —k.sy
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fuckboy!hoshi x fem!reader
Genre: fwb au, college au, fuckboy au, angst, smut
Warnings: kissing, cursing, mutliple orgasms, oral (f.), fingering (f.), protected sex, he's kind of an asshole but at the same time not ??
Summary: You're in desperate need of getting laid, whether you want to admit it or not. And it just so happens that the fuckboy from your Economics class comes knocking at your door.
Word Count: 3.1k
part ii. part iii. part iv.
_______________________________________________
(a/n: bittersweet made me realize i’m more of a mini series girl, so here’s a lil treat for you all)
“Soonyoung,” you frown with a sigh as you look through the peephole on your door.
The overly enthusiastic boy stands in front of your dorm with a brown paper bag in hand and a cup holder.
You crack the door open, peeking your head through. “What do you want?”
“I know you’re still mad at me, but I brought you food,” he smiles.
You close the door in his face.
“Please Y/n! I said I was sorry, just let me in. I’ll beg if I have to, but I’m going to drop these drinks if you don’t let me in right now!” his voice is muffled by the door.
“You can’t win my forgiveness with food Soonyoung!” you shout from the other side of the door.
“I got your favorite! Strawberry milkshake with extra whip and waffle fries! Please Shorty!”
Ugh you hate that he knows you so well. And as much as you want to prove him wrong, you’re hungry as hell.
You cave, opening the door for the boy. He rushes in, nearly dropping everything in his hands before placing it onto your desk.
He turns around, facing you with the brightest smile on his face. “Thank you for letting me inside.”
“Mhm,” you reach over him, grabbing your fries out the bag. “I’m still mad at you though.”
“Please Y/n, I’ve apologized like a billion times,” he pleads with you.
Last week Soonyoung ditched you to get laid. The two of you had an Econ project to work on and he didn’t show up on day you were meant to work on it. You texted him a billion times and didn’t get a response and ultimately ended up finishing the project alone.
He texted you later that night apologizing profusely because he was in Akari's dorm and forgot about your plans.
Unfortunately, this wasn’t completely out of character for him either.
You first met Soonyoung at a party. Your roommate, Nai started dating his roommate Seokmin. The mutuals brought you together one Friday night on campus. And although you usually didn’t befriend guys like him, the two of you worked great together.
You’d seen him around campus, including Economics class , but before the party you’d never interacted with him. The day after the party he changed seats to sit next to you.
You could admit he was attractive, yes, but that was really it. Soonyoung had… a bit of a reputation that preceded him.
He wasn’t big on relationships and he slept around a bit. He could commit to a friends with benefits, but that was really his limit. He partied a lot, which was how he met so many girls and had the chance to hook up with them. He did one night stands, but he also maintained his flings, like Leina and Akari. He maintained his grades well too, however his fuckboy tendencies still preceded him, especially in situations like this.
“I told you food wasn’t going to buy my forgiveness,” You dip one of your fries in your milkshake and take a bite as you plop down on your bed.
He frowns. “Please, I’ll never do it again,”
“Damn right you won’t,” you take another bite.
Truthfully, you’re not actually mad about it anymore. It was a stupid thing for him to do, but it’s been a week already and you’re not big on holding grudges. However, it is fun to mess with him.
“I give up,” he throws his hands up in defeat. “As soon as Nai came over, I knew you’d be here alone and figured I could win over your forgiveness. But you’re so stubborn I’m not even gonna bother anymore.”
“If you get on your knees and beg I’ll consider it,” you smirk.
“Are you being deadass?” he asks.
You giggle. “No, I‘ve been gotten over it. Thanks for the free food by the way.”
Soonyoung is silent for a moment.
“Seriously?!”
You nod, taking a sip of your milkshake.
“God Shorty, you’re so uptight I genuinely thought you were still mad at me,” he plops down on your bed next to you and takes a sip of his milkshake.
“I am not uptight,” you defend.
“Yes you are,” he takes one of your fries despite having his own. “You need to get laid or something.”
“Excuse me?”
He takes another sip. “What? Don’t act like I’m wrong. I know you’re under some sort of dry spell, it shows.”
“I am not under a dry spell,” you frown.
“Yes you are,” he laughs. “If you weren’t, you’d be more like me.”
“Bold of you to assume I want to be like you. You sleep around so much, I have no idea what diseases you’re carrying,”
“Hey! Have you know, I practice safe sex and maintain my 3.8. Don’t hate because you can’t get laid,” the blonde boy smirks.
“I can get laid!” You defend.
“I’m sure you can, you’re a pretty girl. You just like… don’t,” he takes another sip.
“That’s only because every time I’ve ever slept this someone it sucked” you scoff.
Soonyoung stops mid sip and slowly deadpans into your direction. “Are you serious?”
“Ugh!” you cover your face in embarrassment. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this, it’s so embarrassing!”
He pulls your hands off your face. “Stop being so dramatic. I might be able to actually help.I’m kind of an expert in the area.”
You sigh. “Fine. I’ve only ever slept with 3 guys and the experience got worse between each guy. It was just like… I don’t know. I think I’m the problem.”
“I’m sure you’re not the problem,” he buts in.
“I think I am,” you frown.
“What, did you like… bite it or something?”
“No! God no! Nothing like that. It’s just like, none of them have ever gotten me there,” you admit.
“Like they’ve never made you finish?” he asks.
You nod.
“Then the problem definitely isn’t you, you’re just sleeping with guys that have no clue what they’re doing,” he shrugs.
“Yeah well I thought that the first time and then it happened twice again and ended up worse than before. Figured it had to be me,” you explain.
“No Shorty, they just suck. It’s really not that hard to get a girl to finish,” he shrugs.
“That’s easy for you to say,” you roll your eyes. “You’ve slept with half the girls on campus.”
“Okay first of all I haven’t slept with that many girls,” he defends. “And second of all, all those girls I did sleep with left satisfied.”
“I’m sure they did Soonyoung, but that doesn’t help me in any way,” you point out.
“Yeah, but I could help you out you know,” he offers.
Is he saying what you think he’s saying right now?
“You mean like…. sleep with me?” you ask.
He shrugs. “Only if you’re okay with it. No pressure.”
“Won’t that be weird?” you ask.
“It’s only weird if you make it weird,” he shrugs again. “I’m not asking you on a date Shorty.”
You frown. “Yeah I know that.”
“It would just be like a no feelings no rules thing, just me helping you out,” he takes a sip of his milkshake. “Can be a one time thing we both forget about if you really want.”
“I guess,” you think. “Okay,”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
What? Are you actually agreeing to this right now? You know he knows what he’s doing and that he’s safe about it, but it’s the emotional aspect you’re not taking into consideration right now. Soonyoung is still one of your good friends and this changes everything… right?
He says it’s only weird if you make it weird, but it’s easy for him to say that. He’s done this before, and he’s good at it. The sex with no strings that is.
You trust Soonyoung and you know he would never hurt you. He’s doing this to help you, and it’s really a win–win no matter how you look at it.
He smiles. “Come here.”
He pulls you onto his lap with great care. His thumb strokes your cheek for a minute assuringly before he closes the small gap between your faces.
The kiss starts slow and gentle. Quick pecks turning into a longing kiss that grows more intense with each passing second. His other hand lay on your waist, thumb rubbing small circles on your side as he continues to deepen the kiss.
You kiss him back with the same energy he provides you with. Hands wander across each other’s bodies, touching clothes and skin.
He moves, pinning your body down on the bed under his. He hovers over you, lips trialing down your onto your neck. He’s careful enough not to leave marks, simply pulling down the strap of your tank top. One of his hands sneaks up your back, unhooking your strapless bra and tossing it on the floor somewhere.
"Tell me if you want to stop," he says between kisses. "Or if you don't like anything, at all."
"Okay," you breathe out as you allow your eyes to fall shut. You submit your body to him, putting your trust entirely into his hands. Your body relaxes and sinks into the mattress. He removes his lips from your skin, stopping to grab a pillow and adjust your body to ensure your comfort.
He crawls down your body, fingers playing with the strings of your pyjama pants before pulling them off and tossing them onto the floor. You're left in your tank top (that's really only halfway on) and your underwear. He kisses your inner thighs gently before hooking his fingers into your panties and sliding them off.
"You're so pretty, Shorty," he mumbles, more so to himself.
His gentle demeanor is gone almost immediately. His lips immediately attach themselves to your clit, licking and sucking on your extremely sensitive bud. You let out a hiss and arch your back at the sudden contact.
Soonyoung's never been one of those guys against going down on a girl, but holy shit. He's eating you out like it's his last meal on earth. His lips and his tongue are everywhere, spreading warmth along your most sensitive areas.
He concentrates mostly on your clit, stimulating the sensitive bud to the max. You find it hard to keep still, constantly squirming as he devours you.
He's monaing in pleasure as your taste coats his tongue. He groans when you tug at his blonde hair, only causing vibrations to rumble through your body.
He's slurping and sucking, thoroughly devouring you like his life depends on it. It's only been a few minutes and Soonyoung fears he's addicted to you already. You taste sweeter than he could've ever imagined and the sounds you're making are driving him fucking crazy. He loves that you're vocal too, it's only serving as encouragement for him. You've never made this much noise in bed and the fact that he has you squirming and moaning like this only makes him want to devour you more.
Just when you think it can't get better, he slips his fingers inside of you. One at a time he pushes his digits in, pumping them in unison to bring you more pleasure. He's moaning with you enjoying this just as much as you do, if not more. His hips are rutting into your bed sheets, cock hard and leaking with excitement for what's to come.
You're grinding against his face and fingers, each flick of his tongue and thrust of his fingers pushing you closer and closer to the edge. The familiar feeling is buliding in your lower abdomen, however this time you actually feel the coil snap.
It comes so quickly you don't even have time to warn him that you're cumming. Your body shudders and convulses as you ride out your orgasm on his face and cry out his name. He doesn't stop even once you've come down, he's completely smitten and pussydrunk. You have to pry him off of you as your body grows sensitive from the overstimulation.
When he finally pulls away, his face is dripping and his eyes only half lidded. It looks at though he's been placed under some daze.
"Holy shit Soonyoung," you breathe out.
You're panting, chest rising and falling as you try to fully recover from the incredible orgasm he just gave you and the second one you nearly experienced.
"Was that okay?" he asks.
"More than okay," you lick your lips.
You pull his head down so he's hovering over you. "Want you to fuck me Soonyoung," you whsiper.
"You sure you can take me?" he asks. He breath fans against your lips. Smells like chocolate from the milkshake he was sipping on earlier.
You nod. "I can take anything you give me."
He swears his cock just got harder. He didn't think it was possible, but you're turning him on like crazy right now. Who knew you could be like this? The two of you quickly scramble out of all your clothes before you find yourself underneath him again.
There's a gold chain dangling from his neck as he hovers over you. He's got another shiny gold package in his hand that he got from his pants.
"You just keep those on you at all times?" you ask.
"Kinda," he shrugs. "Never know when you're gonna need them."
"Hmm, guess it's not such a bad thing," You lick your lips. "I was about to let you fuck me raw."
His breath gets caught in his throat. "Shorty are you serious?"
You peck his lips. "You know I don't keep any on me, and if you didn't bring it we'd just have to do without it."
He nearly tosses the condom away but you grab his wrist and giggle. "Maybe next time."
"Oh, so there's gonna be a next time?" he asks, voice laced with amusement.
"Can't decide that until after you fuck me," you smirk.
He feels his cock twitch under the sheets. He wastes no time ripping open the package, rolling the latex onto his length aligning himself with your entrance. He slides the tip along your slit a few times before he pushes the head of his cock in. Slowly, he pushes more of his length into you.
This feels so... intimate. Even though you've been in this position before, you never felt this close to any of the other guys. They all sort of just stuck it in and went at it for a few minutes before they finished. They didn't really bother to make sure you were okay, filling you up inch by in the way Soonyoung is. He wants to make sure you feel him.
"C'mon Shorty, you told me you could take it," he coos.
Your eyes are screwed shut as you try to loosen up for him but fuck, he's big. It's been a while since you've done this and he's fucking huge. Nonetheless he takes his time with you, ensuring that you're comfortable as he fills you up.
Once he's all the way in, he stops to ask if you're okay. You assure him at you are and give him permission to move. You can tell he's holding back. His thrusts are shallow and slow.
You've already started to adjust to his size and you encourage him to go faster. It's like a switch in him turns on again because his hips rapidly pick up in pace. He draws his cock out of you, slamming back in and making you curse and moan his name.
"You're so tight Shorty," he groans.
Shit, this feels so good. He fills you up so perfectly. You love feeling the stretch of his cock, his length pounding into you at the perfect pace. His tip pushes against your walls and his thumb soon finds your clit. The stimulation from both is so good and you know you're gonna cum again soon.
You're sure it's something about the dancer in him. The way he fucks you so well. You feel so good around him, he doesn't ever want to stop fucking you. So tight, so warm, so wet, all for him. You're driving him crazy.
He can feel himself nearing the edge too. His veins are popping out of his arm as he holds himself up, gold chain dangling in your face. You can't see it though, your eyes are still screwed shut with your lips parted as he fills you with inexplicable pleasure.
You look so sexy to him. You're both dripping in sweat and he finds himself becoming more vocal as the two of you approach your highs. He's cursing over his breath, nearly catches himself whimpering at how good you feel. You're throbbing around his length, letting him know that you're just as close as he is.
Thankfully so, he didn't want to end the night without you cumming around his cock. His thumb continues to circle your clit quickly and it only takes a few moments before he's driving you into another state of euphoria. His hips grow erratic as his orgasm hits him, full force. He doesn't stop, fucking both of you through your orgasms as his cock twitches inside of your throbbing pussy.
He fills the condom and pulls out before collapsing on top of you. His body weight is crushing you and he's panting into your collarbone.
"Soonyoung! Get off of me!" you push his slick body off of you.
He rolls next to you on the bed, landing on his back with a soft thud. "My bad," he chuckles. "I swear I died for a second."
"Was it really that good?" you muse with a smirk.
He presses his palm to your face plafully. "Be quiet Shorty, you know that was the best lay of your life."
He's got you there. There's no denying that he absolutely just changed the trajectory of your sex life and rocked your shit.
He smirks, sitting up on the bed. "That's what I thought."
He rolls of the bed and slips his boxers back on before disposing of the used latex.
"C'mon," he reaches his arm out to you. "You need to get up. Gotta pee and shower."
You groan into the pillow. "No."
He lets out a breathy laugh. "C'mon Shorty, you need to."
You groan again, but he pulls you out of bed. Luckily you only share a bathroom with Nai and none of the other girls on your floor. He helps you to the bathroom and assures everything is okay with you before venturing back into your actual room.
Once you're all cleaned up, you walk back into your room with just a towel on, only to see Soonyoung pulling his shirt over his head. He's leaving.
“You’re not spending the night?” you ask, cocking your head to the side.
“Can’t,” he says as he adjusts his pants. “I’ll see you later though yeah?”
You nod. He grabs the rest of his things silently and leaves with a soft close of the door. His exit leaves an odd feeling brewing in your body. What the hell just happened?
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this is part 1 of 4!!
© number1mingyustan - Do not repost without permission.
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thebeast-dennis-etcetera · 9 months ago
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Imagine doing your nails while Gibbs is down with his boat and he comes up earlier and expected and is surprised to see you awake
“Why are you still awake?”
“Why are you still awake?”
And him ending up staying until you’re done
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Little Things
“I’ll be up soon.”
Your boyfriend’s famous words to you at least 3 times a week. You never understood why he said it as if he didn’t always end up coming to bed till many hours later, usually when you were already asleep.
You knew there were many reasons he stayed down there in the musky basement, tinkering away with his beloved DIY projects, decompression being one of them. Whether it was a stressful day at work, a particularly disturbing case he was assigned to, or just really dedicated to building various pieces of woodwork, he spent at least a quarter of his life down there.
It didn’t bother you for the most part, it was his biggest way of coping and you weren’t going to ruin that for him just so you could get a few extra hours of cuddles in with him.
But tonight was different, only because you were far from tired and decided that you’d use the time to do your nails.
Once you brought all of your supplies down into the living room, you turned the tv on low, mainly for white noise and got to work prepping your toes first. Your choice of color this week was going to be a taupe-like shade. Perfect color for the fall season and it would match with just about anything you wore. Had you been skilled enough, you would’ve added acrylics but decided to leave that to the professionals and just stick with the base and top coat.
After painting and cleaning up the edges on your toes, you got to work on the rest of your nails, struggling once it came to your non dominant hand. You were concentrating so hard on not painting outside the lines, you didn’t even notice your boyfriend come up.
“Why are you still awake?” he asked in curiosity, walking over to observe your makeshift nail salon. There were files, cue tips and cotton balls strewn across the dining room table and a half empty bag of kettle chips you had been intermittently snacking on.
“Why are you still awake?” you countered with playful sass.
He put up his hands in mock surrender and walked over to the kitchen to grab a beer before coming back over and taking a seat next to you. The silence was comfortable as he grabbed the remote and changed the channel, offering you a sip of his beer. You accepted, giving it back to him and grabbed the bag of chips, holding it out as an offer. He grabbed a handful and set it back on the table as you continued your painting, occasionally asking him to hand you the acetone soaked cotton ball.
Once you had gotten done applying the final top coat, your back was killing you and you were getting light headed from all the air blowing you did to speed up the drying process. Jethro was still relaxed into the couch beside you, hand caressing little patterns on your back, content as he went back and forth from watching his movie to watching you.
“How do you like the color? I think it’s very chic in my opinion,” you spoke, smiling as he nodded in agreement.
“Looks good,” was all he said. He could care less what color you painted your nails and only gave you an answer to make you happy but that’s one of the reasons why you loved him. All he ever wanted to do was make you feel beautiful and heard. Even when it came to minuscule things such as a nail polish color. You didn’t need him to give you long articulated compliments, you had figured out his shorthand a long time ago.
He made you stay on the couch as he cleaned everything up and turned everything off.
“You can grab your supplies in the morning,” he said before picking you up bridal style, making you laugh and hold onto his neck.
“Jethro, the polish is dry, I can walk.”
“I know.”
You reveled in how easily he carried you upstairs and into your bedroom, only setting you down so the both of you could brush your teeth and get undressed for bed.
The two of you faced each other in bed, you running your fingers through his hair as he hummed in appreciation with his eyes closed. Placing a kiss on his nose, you whispered.
“Goodnight Jethro.”
“Mnight,” he mumbled already half a sleep from your brushing fingers ministrations but pulled you in for a proper kiss afterwards, leaving you with a smile.
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