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#am i going to pass out first or am i going to finish these fics first?
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wrapped around your finger
(jake kiszka x reader) 18+
author’s note: I RECOMMEND NOT READING THE SUMMARY BEFORE READING THIS FIC! if you want to have the full effect of the story, don’t spoil it for yourself! now for those of you who don’t know, along with gvf, I am a huge 5 seconds of summer fan. I wrote this fic based on one of their unreleased songs (my favorite of all time), wrapped around your finger. I recommend reading the fic first and then listening to the song on youtube after. I loveddd the experience of writing this fic because I got to live out the events of the song through my own character and I think that’s always fun! anyway, enjoy the story!
summary: jake takes you out for a night you’ll never forget. but when the morning comes, will he still be the man you thought he was?
warnings: SMUT!, unprotected p in v (WRAP IT UP!), oral (f rec), loss of v card (unknowingly), cursing, theft, angst, arguing, misogyny, underage drinking (I do not condone)
• • •
the clock read 6:37 pm and you were just coming back up to your room after mom’s chicken and rice dinner.
you had to kick a few boxes of pictures to the side on your way up the stairs. the new house was pretty but still unfamiliar. it had only been 4 months since your parents uprooted you from everything you knew and moved the family to california for your dad’s new job. the transition was tough at the beginning, but now was just boring. you had nothing to do. ever.
you plopped down on the edge of your bed that wasn’t covered in papers. you had decided to leave all your homework piled there, too lazy and overwhelmed to continue anymore. if mrs. turner thought that you were gonna finish her set of 50 algebraic expressions by monday, she was on crack. it was friday, damn it. why was everyone being so freaking difficult lately? couldn’t you catch a break? you eyed the pictures displayed on your wall, the contrast and vibrancy made you break into a small smile. you wished you were out taking pictures. you hadn’t got a chance yet, to capture your new city on film. it was calling to you…but so was your notebook and pen. you glared at them, frustrated. you needed something other to do than homework right now, but still you reluctantly grabbed them, starting on the next problem.
you don’t even know how much time had passed while you were scribbling math before you heard the tiny click. perking your ears up, you looked around to see what made the noise. you scanned around you. nothing in your room was out of the ordinary. the closet door was open as well, letting you see clearly that nothing was hiding in it. you suspiciously looked around one more time before going back to your equation.
so, if x equals the equivalent of 172 radical 4…
another click.
you recognized the direction the sound was coming from then, head focusing in on the window near your bed. you waited, wanting to see what was going on. after a few seconds, a pebble came flying up and smacked into the glass.
you got up and walked over to the window, peeking out to see if you could catch a glimpse of the person, at least you hoped it was a person, down below. a shadowed body was barely visible, the face too dark to tell any features.
damn it. you were hoping you wouldn’t have to do this. you were barely dressed in pjs, definitely not for unknown guests, and you had no makeup on.
slowly, you unlocked the window and pulled up, sticking your head out. just then, a rock came hurling up at you fast. you gasped and ducked, the solid circle traveling through the air and into your room. luckily for you, it landed on the carpeted floor so it didn’t make much noise. the last thing you needed was your parents to know someone was outside trying to get your attention this late in the evening.
you hesitantly peeked your head back out, seeing a pair of empty hands waving.
“hey! sorry!” a man’s voice called up, too loud when considering your parents’ keen ears.
“shhh”, you whisper-yelled back, “who’s down there?”
“it’s jake, from english”, he lowered his voice a little, “sorry for being so loud, I just wanted to see what you were doing tonight.”
you were a bit shocked and wondered if you had heard correctly. he wanted to see what you were doing tonight? what did that mean? I mean, you and jake weren’t particularly friends. sure, you saw him in class or the halls and he joked about teachers with you, but you wouldn’t say you two were friends. you definitely weren’t on the “show up at my door after dinner and throw rocks at my window, why don’t you” level. so, you had no clue why he would be here. you knew you didn’t have friends yet, but a childish thought popped in your brain. what if he liked you? no, that’s stupid. you hadn’t ever had much action back home anyway, so to think he liked you already when you had just gotten here was a delusion. but still, the question stood. why was he here?
“well, I was working on mrs. turner’s packet. I’m probably going to try to finish it tonight”, you hesitated, “why? what are you doing here?”
he finally came into view, stepping underneath the light shining from your bedroom. you took him in and became almost speechless. he was clad in dark denim jeans and a cream long-sleeve shirt halfway tucked in, buttoned only up to his nipples, where they would be anyway (you weren’t thinking about his nipples, definitely not), and completed with a ball cap. you had never really saw him like this before, relaxed and rugged. maybe it was just the soft yellow lights from your room that made him look this handsome. definitely the lights.
“well I, uh, was in the area”, he began, “you know, I was wondering if you wanted to hang out?”
what? the hell? you couldn’t help but think that jake being outside your window asking you to hang out was just a cruel joke. or maybe, just maybe, it was fate? what if him being here was for a reason? what if this random hang out with a new classmate would be the best thing for you? the thought ate at your logic-loving brain. you had to tell yourself to shut up.
“um”, you thought for a second, “I’m not exactly dressed to go anywhere.” you laughed a bit awkwardly, looking at your pink rainbow pajama set.
“come on”, he urged, opening his arms out wide, “live a little.”
his words hit you. you hadn’t really had a social life lately, having no real time to get friends or join extracurriculars. you almost gasped when you realized.
you were lame.
sure, you never were the life of the party, even back home. but you wanted to be. you wanted to be the girl that people envied. with this move, you could make cooler decisions and nobody would know better.
“you know what, fine. where are we going?”
he broke out into a grin, “it’s a surprise.”
a twinge of doubt and fear hit your brain but you shook it away. maybe he was right. you needed to live a little.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
you changed quickly into a pair of jean shorts and a white t-shirt. grabbing your phone, you sneaked down the stairs, past your parents’ room, and out the door.
you met him in the backyard, his back leaned up against the side of your white house. he seemed a bit taller than you remembered, towering over you.
he smirked, “you ready?”
smiling slyly back, you replied with a nod.
he cocked his head to the side, pointing to the direction you two were going to walk. you followed him, still a bit nervous but powering through. you hated the idea of not being cool enough to do fun, spontaneous things like this. he led you to the road and you started making the trek to wherever you were going.
“soooo”, he put his hands in his pockets, “where did you move from?”
“georgia.”
“ahhh, southern girl huh?”
you laughed, “yeah I guess. not too obvious?”
“nah. I would’ve guessed east coast, but now that I look at you”, he took in your appearance up and down, “you have that southern belle kinda look.”
you rolled your eyes with a smile, “oh really? what about me says southern belle?”
he shrugged, “you look sweet.”
you shut up at that. you weren’t sure why a small compliment from him would shake you up so much, but you couldn’t deny how attracted you were to him.
he chuckled, “what? I can’t say that? ok.” he shook his head with amusement, “you have any plans coming up?”
you shook your head almost immediately and laughed, “I don’t do much.”
he smiled and laughed with you, “well, there’s a party tomorrow night at jenny stewart’s house. I heard it was gonna be fun so i’ll probably go. you should come, it’s at 9.”
you fought the urge to raise your eyebrows in surprise at him. was he really flirting? instead you just nodded and said “maybe.”
he smirked and changed the subject, “so how are you liking santa cruz?”
you reflected on the time you’ve spent here and became underwhelmed. “well, the people are nice”, you slightly tilted your head towards jake, making him smile. “and…I don’t know. I haven’t made many friends yet and kinda get caught up in school, I guess. I haven’t had a chance to really experience everything here.”
“mmm. well, then I guess it was a good thing that you have me tonight.”
he stopped at a crosswalk and grabbed your shoulders. it caught you by surprise, and you tried not to shiver at his touch. “I have a question for you.”
“yes?” you answered a bit too quickly.
jake looked down before making eye contact, “can I have you tonight?” you immediately raised your eyebrows in confusion, and he continued, shaking his head. “can I have your time? show you what is great about this place?”
a small smile tugged at your mouth from his thoughtfulness and you nodded.
“yeah?” his eyes looked hopeful and sweet as he became excited, nearly jumping for joy. he settled a bit before saying, “ok, first things first:”, his eyebrows jumped, “race ya.”
he took off down the crosswalk, the sign still illuminated with a red hand. he was fearless, dodging two cars to make it to the other side. before you could talk yourself out of it, you chased him, nearly screaming when a car honked his horn at you loudly. when you caught up, you pushed him playfully and he laughed heartily. the rest of the walk was about 10 minutes, silence non-existent. he’d managed to get you to open up. you talked about your life in georgia, your old friends, your school. he filled you in on what happened in santa cruz before you. the conversation was easy and fun, flowing freely.
he led you to a mcdonald’s, the golden arches shining above you. this was a bit surprising, as you didn’t exactly picture a mcdonald’s being a particularly important part of santa cruz.
“follow my lead”, he smirked as he pulled the door and went inside.
there were a few employees inside mopping and a couple in the kitchen. jake swaggered up to the register and dinged the bell on the counter in front of him. one of the employees in the kitchen walked over and mindlessly asked what he would like to order.
“two big macs please”, jake said a little too confident, “and two drinks.”
the worker handed you two the cups and left to get the burgers.
“hey”, he whispered in your ear, “get me a coke, will ya? i’m gonna initiate phase 2.”
you looked at him questioning, but he waved you off and you listened. you went to the fountain, filled your cups with soda, and when you turned back around you saw what jake was up to. he was slinking to the part of the store that an employee had just mopped and, because there was no wet floor sign, turned back to you and winked. with one move he flung his head back and pulled his feet up, falling on his back, hard. you put your arm over your mouth to cover your shocked mouth. you started to giggle a bit at what just happened and jake, groaning, jerked his head at you to come over. you got the hint and gasped before setting the drinks down and rushing over to him.
“oh my gosh! are you ok?” you rubbed his arm as he twisted and turned in mock pain.
“oh no! no, no, no! I am not ok! who would have known that they were mopping there? there was no sign! oh, my back! having no sign for a slippery floor is so dangerous for your customers!”
you nodded and then shook your head, “so dangerous!”
by this time, all the employees had stopped to see this and the manager had come out to see what was going on.
the manager rubbed his bald head as he took in the scene and asked, “are you ok, sir?”
“no”, jake answered, “i’m not ok! I got hurt because of your negligence! i’m gonna sue!” jake crossed his arms and you followed, trying to seem genuinely mad.
“well, don’t do that!”, the manager bent to help jake up as he chuckled uncomfortably. “we can offer you coupons or free food or-“
jake, standing with a stuck up look on his face, cut him off, “I would imagine that my meal today is free!” he thought for a second. “in fact, I would like additional food to help with”, he fought back giggles, “my healing.”
“of course, of course”, the manager snapped his fingers at the employees. “whatever you need, sir!”
you two proceeded to order just about everything on the menu.
“…and two mcflurry’s”, you added at the end. out of the corner of your eye you saw jake smile at you, full of an emotion but you weren’t sure which it was.
only a few minutes later, all your food was in bags and you were walking out the door with too much to carry and zero money lost. as soon as you two were out the door and around the corner, you started laughing hysterically.
“when you- I didn’t know that you would- that was-“, you laughed.
he did too, smiling at you and then doing something unexpected: he put his arm around you. you tried not to let it phase you, clutching the food a bit tighter, but you loved the weight of his arm around your shoulder.
“you know, i’m surprised that you got into it as much as you did. you don’t seem like a troublemaker.”
you rolled your eyes, “well, i’ve never done that before, that’s for sure. but, I don’t mind a bit of trouble.”
he smirked at you, impressed, “good. we’re gonna get in way more trouble tonight, just wait.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
you eventually turned a few corners and reached a big chain link fence. you couldn’t see what was beyond it very well, as there were quite a few buildings blocking your view.
he grabbed the bottom corner of the chain, which had been cut, and pulled it back. he looked back at you with a grin, “you ready?”
you couldn’t really believe you were about to follow a cute boy you didn’t know, who you talked to about your past and robbed a mcdonald’s with, through a cut fence to a unknown place.
you laughed a bit through your words at the absurdity of the situation, “yeah, I am.”
he offered his hand, his eyes hopeful. it occurred to you then that you were definitely going to take his hand. you couldn’t stop the night, too far in to quit now. even if you could, there was no part of you that would decline. you were his for the night.
you accepted his hand and he smiled. he bent down, squeezing himself through before helping you, the sharp edges around you catching on your clothes. you ease out and grab the food that you left on the other side. once you were all together, he stopped you before you could move.
“ok, do you know where we are?”
you looked around yourself breifly before answering, “nope.”
“good. i’m gonna go do something really quick and I need you to stay here.”
you nodded, a little sad he was leaving you.
“promise?” his eyes searched your face for sincerity.
“I promise.” you smiled and fought the urge to tell him that you wanted to promise your life to him. you kept all your thoughts inside as he grabbed the food and raced away through the alley of the building.
you shook at your thoughts, “ugh! stop it! you don’t know this guy! you need to stop before you embarrass yourself.” you took a deep breath, closing your eyes to center yourself. opening them back up, you saw jake coming back through the alley. his sleeves were rolled up and his ball cap had turned around, now facing backwards as he jogged up to meet you. you nearly passed out. what was it you said about not embarrassing yourself…
“you ready?” he pulled you out of your trance and you had to remember to answer.
nodding, you watched his body get behind you and place his strong hands over your eyes.
“ok, we’re gonna walk forward, but go slow.” his voice was right on your ear, low and raspy. you could barely concentrate, but you put one foot in front of the other and walked.
he led you through the alley, and from there you had no idea where you were. you relied on him to guide you, leaning back on him a bit. you almost tripped over a rock of some kind, letting out a funny scream-like noise. he chuckled in your ear behind you, making you almost shiver at his voice. god, this was getting hard.
“and… stop.”
finally, he pulled you back and stopped walking. he kept his hands over you eyes as he talked.
“before I show you, what do you hear?”
you listened closely.
“wind.”
“good”, he praised and you tried not to smile. “what do you smell?”
you sniffed the air, slowly.
“um”, you giggled at your answer, “fishy air?”
he laughed deeply in your ear, “good. now, what can you taste?”
you opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out a little.
“hmmm, salt?”
“very good. now, are you ready to see?”
“for goodness sake, jake, we’ve been walking forever and I played your games, I think i’m ready-“ you tugged his hands off your eyes and lost all your words as you took in where you were.
the beach was beautiful under the moonlight, lighting up the waves as they crashed and sprayed. the water met the sand in a beautiful blue-tinted dark spot, and a few feet in front of it lied a blanket and our mcdonald’s bags. it was a picnic on the beach under the moon. you wanted someone to pinch you.
“jake- I-“, you couldn’t find the words if you tried.
“do you like it?”, his voice hopeful while his fingers grazed your arms lightly, his presence ever comforting behind you.
you looked back at him, “I love it.”
he grinned and grabbed your hand, leading you to the picnic.
“where did you find a blanket here?”
he smiled fondly, as if at memories you had brought up with your question. “my family used to come here all the time, so I always loved it. now that, you know, i’m grown and we don’t go out much, I come by myself. I keep a blanket in one of those lockers over there, just in case.” he pointed to a wall of lockers for people to stow their belongings while at the beach.
“and what about…“, you answered your own question by turning around and seeing what the buildings blocking your view of the beach were. “suites and private beach houses? wow, people have money.”
he laughed and helped you sit down on the blanket, fingers accidentally brushing your lower back. you locked eyes at the touch, dangerously fast, and you looked away before anyone could say anything. if you would’ve stared into his eyes for just a second longer, who knows would’ve happened.
finally, you both sat and got comfortable on the blanket over the squishy sand. he frowned, sighed, and shook his head.
your eyebrows furrowed at his actions, “what?”
he sighed again and made eye contact, “i’m just-“. he contemplated his words, looking up into the sky and then dropping his head to the sand before looking back at you. “i’m just really…”, his eyes danced around your face as he leant in, almost unaware he was doing so. it seemed like he was being pulled towards you, and you back to him. you followed his lead and leant in a little. he licked his lips, smiled sheepishly, and pulled away. “i’m just really hungry.”
you both nodded fast and you tried to shake the memory from your head. giving him a sweet smile, you grabbed a big mac out of the bag.
you two ate and talked for a good hour. half of the humongous bags were empty and there was nothing but happiness radiating from your spot on the beach. he had found himself on his elbows laying back, and you on one elbow looking down at him. he was so fucking charming. and it was going to be the death of you. you laughed at his horrible jokes and he smiled up at you, putting a fry between his teeth. you tried your best not to stutter or lose your train of thought, but it was so hard with him. he was just- perfect. and that was a dangerous thought.
“so”, you began after catching your breath from the joke, “what do you want to do? in life, I mean.”
he thought for a second, his head moving side to side. “realistically? or my dream?”
you smiled, “your dream.”
he grinned back, “musician.”
you rolled your eyes, laughing, “is that why I always see you playing that sg?”
his brows furrowed as a questioning look donned his face. “you see me play? when?”
your face blushed a bit, realizing how creepy the next sentence was going to sound. “after lunch. my next class is- well- when I leave- I pass the music hall on the way to my health class.”
he smiled at your embarrassment. “and you spy on me?”
“no! no, of course not! I just- see you through the window,” you backtracked, “like because it’s really big and I just catch a glimpse. I don’t watch you or anything-“
he threw his head back and laughed. you grunt in frustration, nothing you say making the situation sound less weird.
“it’s ok, it’s ok”, he fought to stop laughing, “I know you weren’t being creepy.” then, he raised an eyebrow at you. “wait, how did you know it was an sg?”
you shook your head, “my dad is a collector. it’s dumb but he always made me go with him to look in the vintage shops.”
jake smirked, “impressive.”
you shrugged, “I don’t know about that.”
he eyed you, “what about you? what’s your dream?”
you felt yourself get bubbly just thinking about it, a smile creeping on your lips. “a photographer.”
his eyes got bright, “pictures, huh? take one of me right now!” he stood, kicking up a bit of sand as he did, and struck a pirate-like pose.
you laughed and grabbed your phone, lining up the lighting and snapping a few shots.
he sat back down and urged you to show him, laughing at the situation. when you did, the joking left his face and was replaced by an expression of amazement and confusion.
“fuck, these are actually really good.” he looked up at you, “how did you get the shadows and highlights with just a phone camera?”
you shrugged, “i’m always just taking the picture by feeling. I get inspired and then it always just leads me to the perfect shot.”
he shook his head, still surprised at the quality, “this is perfect, don’t you realize? you could take pictures at my concerts!”
you laughed and nodded, “sure, jake.”
“i’m serious! you said you need inspiration and my music, especially the guitar solos, will definitely inspire you.” he tilted his head back and added, “plus I look super sexy when I play.”
you wanted to laugh, to play it off, but you didn’t want to admit how much that image was affecting you. you just decided to roll your eyes and shake your head, pushing the thought away.
“promise! say that you’ll be my personal photographer!” his enthusiasm was hard to turn down.
giggling, you agreed, “fine. but no nudes.”
he busted out laughing and shoved you.
after the laughs subsided, there was silence for the first time in the night, both of you too caught up in the eyes of the other. the tension was dangerous, waiting to erupt. still, there was a question still eating at you.
“jake?”
“yeah?”
“why this tonight? why me and the beach? why are you doing this?”
jake studied you, eyes drifting up and down your body. he motioned for you to come closer, his breath tickling your ear, “why not?”
you slowly turned your face to his, not backing up. you were eye to eye, foreheads almost touching and lips just inches from each other.
you broke the trance by placing a finger on his lips and pushing him backward. “race ya”, you challenged and took off towards the beach.
you heard him laugh from behind you, getting closer. you were about ankle deep in the water when he grabbed you around your stomach from behind, lifting you up and spinning you. water splashed up on both of you, drenching your clothes. giggles plagued both of you as he spun and then set you down.
you turned and saw his face…and you don’t think you’ve ever been the same since.
he was smiling, big. his hat had flown off in the run, the wind blowing his shirt open. his hair was flowing messily and his skin almost glowing in the moonlight. he was perfect. so amazing that you couldn’t find words to describe it. you hoped right then and there that this would last forever. you weren’t sure you’d ever get him out of your brain.
it was then you realized that your shirt had been soaked by the ocean, the white cloth sticking to the curves of your torso and becoming see-through. you looked down to see your light gray bra showing through, and looked back up to see jake’s smile gone. it was replaced with a look of deep desire. his mouth slightly parted, his eyes locked on your wet body. you stared at each other for a minute, your salty hair whipping at your face.
he came close, brushing a piece of your hair behind your ear, his hand resting on the side of your face. he leaned closer and nudged your noses, almost asking permission.
“jake…”, you trailed, begging him to keep going.
he came in so close that your lips were grazing each other, pausing just a second before closing the painful gap. he kissed you softly, and you sighed into it.
you knew then.
it didn’t matter anymore.
it doesn’t matter what else happens or doesn’t happen tonight.
you were his.
the connection was complete.
after a few seconds of sweetness, you kiss him harder. his hands find your waist, pulling you into his body. your hands hold his face on yours, slightly in his hair. he continues to kiss you deeply, hands roaming to your ass and then your legs, picking them up so he could carry you back to the blanket.
he made haste, nearly tripping from the sand on the way, making you squeal. he laid you down on the blanket gently, you legs wrapping around his waist naturally. you both giggled at the position you had found yourselves in, feeling the excitement and adrenaline. you could feel his hands shaking as they trailed up and down your sides. the kisses grew hungrier, both of you getting impatient. he disconnected your lips and sat back, panting. you watched from your laid position as he unbuttoned whatever was left of his shirt and shouldered it off. then he bent back down and lifted the edge of the shirt sticking to your stomach, pulling it up and over your head. your bra was removed shortly after, being tossed to the side. your chest laid bare in front of him, his breathing shook as he whispered under his breath, “you’re fucking gorgeous.” with that, he kissed you hard again, hands slowly cupping your breasts. you moaned softly in his mouth and it was obviously too much for him to handle, as he immediately fumbled for your jean shorts’ button. he undid them and tugged them off fast, throwing them to the side. he groaned as he took you in, only clad in your underwear. it was a white thong decorated with cherries and jake laughed when he saw it.
“cherries?” he smirked as he began to kiss his way down your chest, licking your nipple. you gasped and moaned as he continued down your stomach and reached the top of the thong.
he smirked and looked up at you. god, what a sight that was. his hair messed, his eyes dark and mischievous. he looked up at you like you were something to eat. and god, you hoped he had an appetite. “I wonder if you taste like cherries, too?”
you were speechless as his fingers hooked into them, inching them down and tossing them over his shoulder. automatically, your legs came together at the brisk air on your private parts.
“ah, come on baby”, he shook his head, “let me see her.”
he made eye contact with you and bit his lip as he placed each of his hands on your knees, prying them apart slowly. his eyes flicked down to your center and he took a throaty breath before he dipped his head down between your legs. hooking his arms around your thighs, he looked at you before lowering his face down and licking a long stripe up your core.
you moaned and threw your head back as he licked and sucked, already feeling like it was too good.
“fuck, you do taste like cherries”, he smirked, licking his lips, before diving back in. he teased you, going fast and then slow.
“jake, please”, you begged.
“what baby? use your words, honey.”
he stopped teasing and made out with you, only taking breaths to kiss your inner thigh. you squirmed and whimpered, his grip just getting tighter. your hands tangled in his hair and pulled, causing him to grunt and flick his tongue over you faster.
“jake- too much. I can’t-“, you pleaded.
“you can. you will.” he said it as a promise, like he had already made up his mind about it.
jake went faster, harder. he was making true on that promise. you felt your muscles tighten and your mouth fell open. you screamed as the orgasm hit you. he continued for just a minute more, working you through the rest of it, until you started to run from the overstimulation. he pulled back and admired the mess you made.
“fuck, cherry”, he panted, smiled, and came up to kiss you. “I almost couldn’t stop.”
you moaned as he kissed you, beginning to feel something hard and hot on your thigh. you gasped breathlessly, his bulge evidently turning you on. you reached down and touched him through his jeans. you didn’t even use much pressure and he was already groaning. too worked up for his own good, he tugged down his pants, and you couldn’t help but run your hands across his toned chest. as he removed his underwear, you sucked a small hickey into his neck as a little memento to remember your first time together. you were certain that this wouldn’t be the last.
jake finally got fully naked, lining himself up with you. your eyes met and he slowly started to push into you. he sighed in relief, like he was returning to his home inside your body. the stretch was painful at first, as he wasn’t small by any means, but when he started to move the pain went away. it felt so good. too good.
“fuck, baby. you’re gonna be the death of me.” he moved slowly, all the way in and almost all the way out.
the sensation was unlike anything you’d ever felt, the pleasure taking over your brain and making you a mindless zombie.
“jake, oh my-“, you couldn’t even finish, cut off by a powerful thrust that hit a spot in you that you didn’t know existed.
“I know, baby. give it to me.”
the rhythm got faster, fueled by the pleasure radiating from both of you. soon, he was fucking you hard. the sound of slapping skin and moans mixed with the background noise of waves crashing against the sand was intoxicating.
“oh fuck, baby. are you close?” he was falling apart, evident by the squeak in his voice.
“yes! fuck, jake!” you could barely get the words out, too caught up in the feeling. the warm buildup started in your belly and you knew it wouldn’t be long. his grunts became faster and louder as he pummeled into you as hard as he could. he looked you in the eyes and moaned your name loudly, like he didn’t care who heard him.
“jake…”, you groaned, feeling the buildup get to the edge.
“oh, fuck. me too. show me, baby. show me how good you feel. cum for me.” he groaned at the thought of you falling apart on him.
you did as he said. moments later, you felt like you were engulfed by a wave of pleasure so intense you shook. you never broke eye contact as you moaned his name and squeezed his dick like a vice.
“fuck-“, he came with a groan. he shuddered and panted as he painted your walls. his eyes drifted away and he hung his head in the crook of your neck.
still inside you, he whispered in your ear, “you’re so amazing.”
you felt a smile creep on your face as you scoffed lovingly. he brought himself back up to look at you, brushing a piece of your hair away from your face. the smiles on both your faces were sweet and sappy, taking in the warmth.
you wished that this moment would never end. this right here? this was heaven. in jake’s arms, on the beach, orgasm haze washing over you both. it was all you’d ever want, you were sure of it. all you’d ever want is him.
he pulled out, hissing at the feeling, and tearing you away from your thoughts. “so, let’s get you cleaned up then.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
he used a napkin from the food bag to clean you off and then you both got dressed. pulling on your shirt, you saw jake glance at his phone.
“oh shit. it’s 12:06 in the morning. I gotta get home.”
“oh”, you tried to hide your disappointment, “that’s ok. I probably should too.” you smiled, walking over and pulling him into a hug, and he smiled back.
the walk back to your house took almost 30 minutes but you welcomed the time, dreading the moment he’d have to leave. you talked the whole way back, laughing about the night and things that happened at school lately. you held hands, swinging them like elementary schoolers with their first boyfriend.
you reached your house and turned to face him, sad. “I don’t want you to go.”
a small, empathetic smile tugged at his lips as he pushed you back towards your home. “go. you don’t want your parents to wake up and find you gone, now do you?”
you looked him in his dark brown eyes and wished you could tell him that all you wanted was a hug from him. all you want is a life with him. he became all you wanted within a few hours, sweeping you off your feet instantly. you needed him.
but all you could manage to say was, “ok.”
you kissed him one more time, softly. he smiled and kissed your back, his hand coming around to grab your ass. you squealed and pushed him away.
“stop it! my parents are like a foot away.”
he laughed, “fine. i’ll see you around.”
and with that, he turned and walked away. you figured you should do the same too, backing up slowly. you got to your front door and turned back to look at him. you hoped to see him looking back at you, but he was gone. frowning, you slipped inside. quietly, you made it to your bedroom and sat on your bed.
holy fuck. what just happened? this was the greatest night of your life.
you tore off your still-wet clothes and grabbed a towel before running to the bathroom to shower. the warm water ran down your body, washing away the sand and salt. you could still feel his hands on you, and you smiled at the reminder. when you were done washing your face, you went back to your bedroom.
you gasped when you stepped on something unexpected, but then smiled when you realized what it was. it was the rock from earlier tonight; the one jake threw. you smiled and picked it up, putting it on your dresser next to your favorite pictures. it was now going to be displayed with your favorite things. when you laid down, the comfortable bed swallowed you up as you thought about the night. about him. about jake.
you smiled and yawned, the happy memories and warm sheets lulling you to sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
you woke up the next day sore. you sat up and stretched, but your mind started to wander and soon you remembered the fun of last night. it filled your heart with happiness and all you wanted to do was see him again. but, in the haze of the night, you never exchanged numbers.
that’s when it occurred to you. jenny stewart’s party. he said it would be tonight at 9 and he’d probably be there. you almost patted yourself on the back for remembering. you looked over to your clock and almost screamed when you saw that it was noon. you slept late. too late. it was time to start preparing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
you had jumped in the shower again, and this time it was an everything shower.
you washed and conditioned your hair thoroughly, did full skincare, exfoliated, and shaved everything. like everything, everything. when you got out, you wiped your hand on the foggy mirror and brushed your teeth to finish the routine.
you ran to your room and started picking out something to wear. you started by grabbing a lacy, black matching set. last night you weren’t prepared, but tonight you would be. you put them on, the black bra pushing your tits up perfectly. the lacy panties left nothing to the imagination, but that was the point. next, you turned to your closet to find a dress. this would probably take a while.
it took a good minute of searching before you found what you were looking for. it was a black dress covered with cherries. how perfect. you thought about how he’d love the subtle callback to last night’s events and giggled. you put everything on and smiled at how you looked. he was gonna love it.
next was makeup. you did a subtle look, swiping a bit of sparkle on your eye and blush on your cheek. the mascara you used made your eyelashes 10x longer and you batted them at yourself in the mirror. you added a bit of sparkly gloss as a finishing touch. you felt like a little girl, giddy to see your crush.
by the time you were finished with everything and put on comfortable shoes, it was time to go. you said bye to your parents, saying you were going to a study group with friends. you tried not to feel upset when they raised their eyebrows at you having friends, and just ran out the door.
the walk there would only be a few minutes because jenny lived in the neighborhood next to yours. you checked your phone and saw that you were gonna be a few minutes late, but that was ok.
as you walked up to her house, you saw that the party was in full swing. there were people in the yard and on her wrap-around porch, already tipsy and talking. you excused yourself by them and made your way up the steps and to the door. the music bumped inside the house, rap being played out of a speaker. you walked into her house and saw you were in the kitchen. jenny’s house was big and very nice, but it was a mess from the party. there was beer bottles everywhere, liquor spilt here and there, and tortilla chips spilling out of bowls. the granite island in the middle of the kitchen had all the booze on top of it, and you realized then that you had never really been to a high school party. not a real one anyway. the only party you were used to going to had punch and a piñata. this was a real party.
you decided to keep your focus on finding jake, looking around the room. you tried to make your way to the living room, accidentally bumping into a very drunk jenny stewart.
“heyyyyyyy girl!” she slurred her words and waved at you.
“hey, jenny”, you tried not to laugh at her state, “have you seen jake?”
“jake kiszka? yeah he’s here.” she almost turned away before she whipped back around and grabbed your arm, “wait. whyyyy?”, she said in a flirty tone. “are you guys togetherrrr?”, she smirked.
you blushed and looked down, “I mean, kinda.”
“shut upppp! go get him, girl!” with that, she pushed you towards the living room.
you laughed and continued on, smiling as you came into the living room. but as soon as you saw him, your smile disappeared.
there he was, dressed in a hot black t-shirt and jeans, leaning against the stairs with a drink in his hand. and next to him was a girl. her dark black hair fell down her back and contrasted with her fair skin. she had on a red bra-like top and the shortest shorts known to man.
they were laughing. talking. why was she making him laugh so much? her hand was on his bicep and his hand on her waist.
you walked over slowly, mouth still slightly open in shock. when he caught a glimpse of you, his eyes went wide and he excused himself from the girl, coming over to you.
“what are you doing here?” his tone was annoyed, impatient.
“um, what? what am I doing here? first of all, you invited me!”
he rolled his eyes, “I didn’t think you’d actually come. it took a army to get you out of your house the first time.”
you scoffed at his rudeness but kept going, “well second of all, what the fuck are you doing?”
“what do you mean, ‘what am I doing’? i’m at a party, having fun.”
you’re eyes got wide and your voice got louder, almost able to be heard by others over the music, “you’re with someone else! what the fuck?”
he put his hand over your mouth and backed you into a corner where nobody would see you, “shut the fuck up. damn, do you ever stop talking? what? you act like we got married last night.”
your eyes glossed over with hurt as you ripped his hand from your mouth and spoke, “what? so nothing that happened last night means anything to you?”
he laughed and rolled his eyes again, “oh my god! it wasn’t that big of a deal. it was one night. yeah, we had fun. but I thought you knew it was just that: fun. you act like we said ‘I love you’ or some shit.” he took a swig of his beer.
you felt stupid. he was making you feel like last night was all in your head. the tears started to fall on their own and you couldn’t stop staring at him in disbelief.
he sighed, “oh, now you’re fucking crying? grow up, (y/n). we’re in high school. what did you think? we were gonna go run away together, get married, have kids, and live in the florida keys?” he scoffed, “you’re pathetic.”
you wiped your tears quickly and made eye contact again, “no, I didn’t think we were gonna get married”, that was a lie that hurt your heart to say, “but fuck, jake! we had sex on a beach and now you’re here flirting with some other girl like I don’t mean anything to you?”
“it’s just sex! fuck, you are so sappy!”
“you took my virginity, jake! what am I supposed to do? pretend like it never happened because you want to fuck some other girl?” the tears started again, and it was getting harder to hold them back.
he threw his hands up like he was innocent, “hey, don’t blame that shit on me! I didn’t know you were a virgin! you didn’t tell me shit.”
“so it was all about sex?! so if you knew I was a virgin, you would’ve never taken me out?” your shook your head, hoping you were wrong.
“no, I wouldn’t have”, he scoffed and said it like it was obvious, then he turned and ran his hand through his hair muttering, “this is such bullshit.”
you couldn’t help the disgust and shock plastered on your face as you took him in. this was a new person. this wasn’t the man you knew last night. maybe it was because he was drunk, or maybe you were just a fool all along, believing his lies. you dropped your head and took a shuddering breath.
“so, you don’t want me?”
he turned back to you and you looked back up. he sighed at your face, covered in tears, like it was annoying to see you like this, like you were a rock at the bottom of his shoe.
“no, I don’t want you. I wanted you last night, and so I had you. don’t make this a thing, ok? normal girls know that when a guy shows up at their house at night asking to ‘hang out’, it means he wants to hook up.” he took a breath, “I guess you just thought I was asking you out so we could lay in a flower field naming the stars and counting the constellations”, he laughed at you, “don’t get me wrong, the sex was good but that’s all it was. now, we’re done.”
that was it. the truth. the truth you never wanted to know. you didn’t know what else to say to him, but you knew you had to say something.
“ok.”
he raised his eyebrows, “ok? you’re done crying?” he sighed, “alright, i’ll see you around.” he walked away, drinking more of his beer, and returned to the box-dye-black-haired girl.
you moved on autopilot, leading yourself out of the room and back into the kitchen with the loud rap playing. passing by the liquor island, you grabbed a big bottle of malibu and continued outside. the party was still going, people making out and talking everywhere. you found the porch stairs and sat down, opening the rum and chugging a good amount. you sat there, drinking and staring out into the moonlight for a long time. you could still feel his hands on you, and you shivered. it was now such an unhappy memory. when the malibu was about half gone, you pulled out your phone. you went to your camera app and looked at the pictures from last night. they started with the one of jake striking a pose right after he learned you wanted to be a photographer. you laughed at the memory and took another drink of the malibu. you swiped and found a bunch of pictures that you had took while you two were laying on the beach, right after you were done having sex. they started with you two smiling, then another of him kissing your cheek, then another of you kissing passionately.
“you can’t tell me that wasn’t real”, you muttered to yourself, looking at the picture and taking a swig of rum.
“boy problems?”
a girl’s voice startled you as she walked up to you from behind.
“yeah.” it was all you could say, the tears already welling up again. you turned off your phone, not being able to look at the happy faces anymore.
she sighed and sat down next to you, “I know that feeling. happened to me a year ago.”
“really?” you looked over. she was so pretty. her brown skin and hair fit well with her marbled glasses frames. she was dressed in a polka dot t-shirt and jeans with a headband taming her curls.
“yeah, some guy I met from a different school. you don’t even want to know what happened.”
you looked at her empathetically and handed her the bottle.
“thanks”, she took a drink and turned to you, smiling. “i’m kate.”
“(y/n). it’s nice to meet another girl who can relate.”
“oh yeah”, she sighed, “I definitely can. so, who’s the guy?”
you hesitated at first, but then thought: what did you have to lose by telling her?
“a guy named jake.”
she gasped, “wait. kiszka?”
you nodded and took another drink.
“that’s the guy who broke my heart a year ago.”
you nearly spit out your gulp of rum. “what? he dated you?”
she rolled her eyes, “yeah, well I wouldn’t call it dating. it was one night. a glorious night on the beach.”
you went still but stayed silent. of course. of course, it was all a prepared night. it was a routine he did to make girls put out and then leave them high and dry.
“I know that’s what happened to you, too. i’ve heard it’s what he does.” she shrugged and took the drink from you, downing some more. she looked over at you and smiled softly, “i’ll help you get over him; I don’t have many friends anyway. we can go get slurpies and sour candy and go watch step brothers at my house.”
you laughed and nodded, laying your head on her shoulder, “that sounds great.”
a silence fell over you, only the faint sound of music and breathing audible.
“it feels like i’m never gonna be alright.” you were such a fool for him. you let him build you up just to tear you down. you hated how much you still wanted him, after everything.
“yes, you will. believe me, it takes time but you get there eventually. until then you just have to deal with it: being wrapped around his finger.”
• • •
THE END.
this one took forever to write (purely because i’m lazy and took so many long breaks lmao) but it’s so rewarding to see it finished! please let me know if you liked this one and what you would like to see next! love you guys so so so much! 💓
(comment under this post to be added to my overall tag list because I just realized I don’t have an overall tag list lol :))
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analogwriting · 7 months
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im 12 shots deep and killer is balls deep inside mc
do with that information what you will...
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sinofwriting · 5 months
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I ❤️ MILFS - Max Verstappen
Words: 9,747 Summary: Max wasn’t too sure who the woman was that was always with Logan, but he was sure that he wanted to get to know her. Note(s): Sargeant Reader, Age Gap, Older!Reader, Logan and Oscar are both 20 during the 2023 season, not 22. The 2023 driver standings are different (I am giving Logan the season he should have had). Reader has the nickname Pan (short for momma panther). Logan is sweetheart, Max is head over heels in love. I’m gonna be honest I never thought this fic would get written or finished. I got the idea for it back in December but only started writing it on March 16th. And it would have never happened without @burningcupcakefire & @pucksandpower. Thank you both so much for all your help. (also if anyone wants to see more of Max and Pan, let me know)
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Max remembers the announcement of Oscar’s arrival to F1, the drama and hilarity of it. Sometimes he sees the kids name and has to stop himself from laughing. No nineteen-year-old had any business being that funny.
Max doesn’t remember much of Logan’s announcement to F1. Only that he was young as well, being the first American in forever, and Williams' quick admission that they hadn’t wanted to sign, had wanted to wait another year.
He wishes now that he had paid more attention.
There’s a woman standing in the William’s garage, on Logan’s side. She’s clearly there for him, with the similar pass that his trainer has around her neck, and the way her eyes intently follow Logan’s movements around the garage as he talks to the mechanics and engineers.
She also happens to be the most beautiful woman Max has ever seen.
She can’t help but clutch at Benny’s arm the whole race, terror gripping her along with pride.
Benny chuckles when the race comes to an end, Logan doing his cooldown lap and she finally lets go. “And just think you’ve got over twenty more races of this.” Her nose wrinkle and a hand goes over her heart that’s thudding. “Please, Benny.” He chuckles again but pats her shoulder. “You’ve got this.” “Not gonna tell me it gets easier?” He snorts. “No. This is far worse than F2 or F3 and we still were both scared watching him out there. We’ll never know a day of peace now.”
She sighs, watching the screens as it shows the top three getting interviewed and in the background you can see some of the drivers getting weighed. “He’s going to be sore and in pain.” It makes something clench inside her, the knowledge that Logan would be in pain. It was part of the job, the aches and the bruises, but it didn’t make it any easier for her to know. “I’ve already got everything set up as soon as he’s back and debriefs are done.”
Her eyes catch on the screen showing where all the drivers placed and tears prick her eyes and she shakes her head. “Twelfth in his first grand prix. I can’t believe it.”
The garage is filled with chatter as the team celebrates getting their first points of the season and their rookie driver performing better than they expected. The way they don’t even try to whisper it makes her jaw twitch. She was grateful that Williams was giving Logan his dream, but she didn’t like how they were going about it. Quickly and publicly stating that they didn’t want to sign Logan yet, wanted to wait a year. And now this.
A light nudge to her ribs makes her unclench her jaw and she gives Benny a grateful smile.
Both of their attention is quickly drawn however to the two Williams drivers entering the garage, the space filling with cheers.
She smiles as Logan grins at the team, basking in the smiles they have on their faces for him and Alex, the pats on the back he’s getting. The grin turns to a beam when he spots Benny and her and he quickly bounces over to them.
A laugh leaves her at the way Benny pulls him into a bear hug, lifting him off his feet a little. “Proud of you, kid.” He murmurs. She can’t hear what Logan says, but he’s put down and it’s her turn.
She wants to bundle him up in her arms, hold him and not let go, but doesn’t want to embarrass him in front of his team, so she raises a hand and pushes his hair out of his face. “You did amazing, baby.” He smiles at her, all bright and shiny eyes and then he’s wrapping his arms around her, hugging her tight and she’s quick to return it, rubbing his back. “You did so good, Logan. So good. I’m so proud.” She tells him again, pressing a kiss to his sweaty head. “Thank you, momma.” He tells her, hugging her tight for another moment before letting her go. She smiles up at him and god, that makes her heart ache. Her son, her baby, taller than her somehow. She woke up some days and still wasn’t sure where the time had gone and how he was taller than her shoulders. “Go shower and debrief and then Benny and me will take care of you, yeah? And I’ll get your favorite ordered to the hotel, ready as soon as you get there.” He beams at her again, darting forward to press a quick to her cheek before starting to rush away. “Best mom ever!” He calls over his shoulder and she laughs.
Y/N Sargeant will never forget the first time she held her son, only then at nine years old, he had been her cousin.
Logan was small, wrinkly, pink skin, and full of small cries. She could remember staring at him with furrowed eyebrows, trying to understand how he could be what her baby dolls were made to be like. She remembers her mama having her sit on the couch after asking her if she wanted to hold him and how she had quickly nodded, hoping that maybe holding him would somehow make him look better.
She remembers the sudden nerves that built in her stomach as her mama started to hand him to her. Remembers being scared that she would drop him, remembers thinking how stupid it would be if he was still weird to look at like this.
And she remembers finally holding that and it disappearing. His small cries, no more, his  wriggling calmed down, and his wrinkles no longer looked weird but cute. She remembers holding him for the first time and feeling unconditional love for the first time in her life.
She’s twelve when she realizes that her uncle and aunt don’t like Logan much. It didn’t make sense to her then, still doesn’t now. Because they liked Dalton just fine, but not Logan.
She remembers asking her dad about it. Asking him why they didn’t love Logan, but loved Dalton and worse, she remembers the pained look in his eyes as he realizes that his child picked up on what he and his wife had as well.
It’s the first hard adult conversation she has with her parents and it’s fitting that it’s about Logan, as they sit her down and talk to her about how not all parents love their kids, and how sometimes that includes them only loving one child and not the other.
She remembers clearly the first time Logan calls her mom.
It’s her fourteenth birthday and she’s got the four-year-old in her lap as she sits in a rocking chair, reading her English essay aloud for him. Logan’s eyes are closed, head resting on her chest, over her heart, and his little fingers of his one hand are curled in her shirt right by his head.
She wants to sit there forever, reading to him as she rocks back and forth. But she wants another slice of cake before Martha puts it away and Logan needs to sleep in his bed where he can stretch out fully and drool on his pillowcases and not her shirt that Martha will surely tut over but then smile fondly when she sees Logan doing it all over again.
Setting the essay down on her dresser, she runs her now free fingers through his blond hair. “C’mon Logan, time for bed.” He grumbles, fingers tightening on her shirt and she can feel it being pulled slightly. “You can put on your new race car jammies, cuddle with Ello.” He shakes his head, squirming a bit in her lap as he tries to shove himself closer. “Stay with you.” “Oh, baby.” She whispers, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Y’know I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep.” His head shakes again and she has to bite her lip as his head hits her collarbone. “Want cuddles, momma.” Her heart thuds painfully in her chest at the name he called her, tears pricking her eyes. “Okay, baby. Let's get you in jammies, grab Ello, and you can stay with me tonight.”
She’s only been eighteen for ten hours when she asks her father for the near impossible.
“I want custody of Logan. I want to adopt him. And I need your help to make that happen.” He stares at her, no expression on his face, not even shock. “He’s,” She pauses, jaw twitching and tears springing to her eyes. “He wants to do karting, just like Dalton. And he’s good at it. I’ve taken him. They told him no. They haven’t bought him clothes in two years. They don’t know a single thing about his school, his grades, his teachers. He hasn’t called David dad since he was six and he hasn’t called Madelyn mom since he was four.” Her hands are formed into fists, nails digging into her palms as she speaks. “I have money, I can provide for him. I’ve got my shares of the company now and I’ve got my inheritance from Grandma Talls. But I know that a judge won’t sign off without some influence.” “Madelyn and Daniel?” She leans forward in her seat, a spark of hope filling her. “I already talked to them, they’ll do it.” One of his hands comes up to rub at his mouth, sighing. Then it drops to open up one of his desk drawers and he’s pulling out a bunch of papers, dropping them on the desk in front of her.
“I figured this was gonna happen and I knew after you talked to them and they called me. They signed away their rights three hours ago. Michael and Lily are waiting outside to come in so you can sign the papers.” Tears slipped from her eyes, joy wrapping itself around her entire being from his words, the fact that he called their family lawyer to be on standby, that he and her mother were so supportive. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” He smiles at her. “I couldn’t say no to you. Not when it comes to Logan. I’m way too young to have a grandkid, let alone one that’s eight, but I made my peace with that years ago.” “Thank you.”
Max watches the free practice session coverage intently as they focus on the Williams garage, nose wrinkling when they focus on Logan’s trainer, Benny and then James Vowles. Could it really be possible that they never once caught a shot of her? He starts to get a sinking feeling in his stomach that he's gonna have to go on Twitter when the camera moves and suddenly she’s there and he’s scrambling for the tv remote, pressing the pause button just before the camera switches to an overhead shot of the Bahrain track.
His heart skips a beat as he gets his first good luck at her. Her pretty eyes and smile. His eyes then travel down, wanting to know her name and his heart drops.
Y/N Sargeant, Mother of Logan Sargeant.
Fuck.
“Momma Panther!” Oscar greets to the confusion of other drivers as Logan and a woman enter the room.
Lando’s eyebrows are raised as he watches Oscar stand. Watching as his teammate claps Logan on the back, before giving him an actual hug. Before he then hugs the woman as well, whispering something to her that makes her laugh.
Pulling away from her, Oscar grins when her hand comes up to pat his cheek for a second. “Thank you for the invite, Os.” “Of course.” He sends a fond look to Logan, who's standing awkwardly by the table. “Y’know Logan and you are always welcome.” She makes a humming noise. “C’mon, let me introduce you to everyone.”
Turning around, he smirks at the table. “Everyone, Logan.” Charles lets out a laugh, as the others chuckle. He gestures to her, “This is Momma Panther or Pan.” “Y/N or Pan.” She corrects, playfully shaking her finger at Oscar. “I only let the F2 boys call me Momma Pan.” He sighs. “Okay, this is Y/N. Logan’s mom.”
Lando coughs, water going down the wrong pipe. Fernando’s eyes are wide as he looks at her. Charles, George, and Alex are all nodding. Max has a weird expression on his face and Carlos looks dumbfounded.
“She,” Carlos points at her. “Is his,” he points at Logan. “Mother?” Logan moves away from the table to stand by his mom, easily melting into her side at all the attention. The action makes Oscar smile, all too used to the easy affection between the mother and son. “I got pretty lucky right?” She shakes her head. “I’m just happy you weren’t a difficult child.” Logan both blushes and preens at the same time. Carlos shakes his head, disbelief still clear.
“Please, sit.” George says after a moment. “We haven’t ordered yet.”
The seasoned drivers and her watch amused as both Oscar and Logan usher her to sit first. Oscar easily then lets Logan sit next before sitting beside the American. The two of them sharing a grin after.
It makes her shake her head as she turns her attention to the menu, tuning out the sound of conversation picking back up.
The gentle sound of a throat clearing makes her glance to her left.
The current two time world champion smiles a bit awkwardly at her. “Have you been here before?” She shakes her head, turning her head a bit to look at him better. “No. To Australia of course, for Logan’s races and to visit Oscar once, but not here.” He nods and she can’t help but notice the way he swallows harshly. “We started coming here in 2021, it’s good food. Good drinks.” She laughs, “good gin and tonic?” He flushes a little, but laughs. “Yes. Very good. Heavy on the gin.” She nods, “I think I’ll have one of those then.”
Her eyes drift back to the menu, not even wincing at the prices next to the dishes. This was nearly cheap compared to where she had been forced to eat growing up.
“Momma, can we,” “Yes.” She answers before Logan finishes, already knowing what he’s asking. “Also you two, no hard liquor. We have plans tomorrow.” She continues, still looking at the menu.
They wouldn’t get drunk from a few drinks, but she had a feeling that Lando would try to instigate something again with Oscar, making the poor kid so drunk he could barely walk, again. And she didn’t mind people thinking that she was overbearing with Logan and even Oscar. The boys knew that if they really wanted to do something they could, even if she said otherwise. It was one of the nice things about being an adult.
Logan wrinkles his nose, glancing at the drinks part of the menu, before grinning. “They have it.” Oscar glances at what he’s pointing at, shaking his head. “You and your goddamn obsession.” “We come here like once a year.” Logan defends. “And no other country sells it.”
It’s not until after the server leaves, all of their orders taken, that conversation starts again.
“So, Mrs. Sargeant,” Lando starts. “Just Y/N or even Pan.” She sends a fond look to Oscar who had made that nickname stick. “And I’m not married.” She says, amused. “Ah.” “Not married.” Fernando shakes his head. “Now that doesn’t sound right.” She looks at him amused. “Don’t believe in premarital sex?” She teases. The older driver laughs and so do the others. “No. Just hard to believe that you aren’t married. You are a very gorgeous woman.” “Thank you.”
“So,” Lando starts again, giving Max a weird look seeing how his friend is gripping his glass of water. “Will you be coming to all the races?” She nods. “Yes, I have since Logan started his career. Haven’t missed one.” Logan shakes his head, grinning at her. “Nope, not one.” “Your work allows you to do that?” Her lips press together for a second to try and hide her smile at the gentle but obvious fishing they are doing. “I have shares in some companies and a very generous inheritance. So, no true, real work.” “You do some work for Grandpa when we’re in the states.” “I organize his desk for him, which he then messes up as soon as he sits back down at it.”
“You do not mind the constant travel? It is quite tiring.” Charles asks, curious. “No. And once I got Logan in karting, I promised him that I’d make it to all of his races. Maybe in a few years, I’ll stop going to all of them, but I am part of his team as well.” “Manager?” “God, no.” She shakes her head at Carlos’ assumption. “Cook slash nutritionist. Benny, his trainer is amazing, also doubles at being a physiotherapist for Logan, but he doesn’t know how to cook to save his life. So I make their meals.” “Mine as well.” Alex pipes in. “They’re truly amazing, by the way.” “Of course.” “Can you make mine again?” Oscar asks, leaning over Logan a bit to look at her. “I’ve missed having them.” “Sure.” She laughs. “Get me your new sheets before the next race, yeah?” “Done.”
Max watches from the corner of his eyes as she takes her first sip of her gin and tonic. Her brows raise a bit when the drink hits her tongue and he has to force his eyes up, to not focus in on her lips, to think about them and what they’d feel like on, he shakes his head. Forcing the thoughts, the ideas away.
“Very heavy on the gin.” She whispers, turning a bit to look at him. He rubs his hands against his jeans. “Do you like it?” “It’s nice.” She smiles. Relief fills him. “Good.”
He continues to look at her, wanting to tear his eyes away but being unable to. She was simply lovely. And getting this closer look at her, he can’t believe that she’s a mother, or at least a mother to a twenty-year-old. It didn’t seem possible. She looked barely older than him. Not at least thirty-five. She was probably more like Fernando’s age as well and he glances at the fellow two world champion, more disbelief filling him. Because how could the two be close in age at all?
Logan sighs as he collapses face first onto Oscar’s bed. Laying there for a solid minute before groaning and turning his head.
“Dinner was nice.” Oscar hums and he can feel the bed dip beside him. “You seemed a bit more relaxed.” “No media, and you and Pan were there. A bit more relaxed.” Logan scoffs. “Yeah, because you were so tense with media before.” As he speaks, he reaches out to lay a hand on Oscar’s thigh, giving the muscle a squeeze. “It’s nuts, isn’t it? I mean we all got told that the media was so much more, so different, but…” He trails off, shaking his head. “Yeah.” Oscar sighs and then he’s laying beside Logan, the American luckily moving his hand off and away from the other’s thigh before he lies on it.
“Y’know I have no personality, apparently.” Logan snorts, eyes opening when he hadn’t even realized he had closed him. The Australian driver also has his head turned so they’re looking at each other. “What? Have they never seen a Prema video?” He shrugs as best as he can. “I’d take that over my apparent frat boyness.” “You? A frat boy?” Oscar laughs. Logan sighs as he thinks a bit more about it, the mood turning a bit serious. “I just hope momma hasn’t seen it.” “What happened?” “She’s just worried. Thinks I haven’t noticed, but she’s wondering if she did a good job with me, done enough for me. And she’s given me everything y’know. I can’t imagine what I’d be like with them as my parents.” Oscar moves a bit closer, just a few inches between their faces now. “You’d still be amazing, still great. Maybe a frat boy.” The American rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling.
“I think Fernando has a thing for her. For Pan.” He clarifies. “What?” “I mean, just during the dinner y’know, he kept looking at her. And him calling her gorgeous.” “Well, he’d be dumb and blind to not notice that.” Logan scoffs, rolling onto his back and turning his head to the side, keeping his eyes on Oscar. “I’m being serious.” The younger laughs, poking him lightly. “I think Alonso has a thing for her.” Logan’s face scrunches up in disgust. “Dude, no. That’s gross. Momma isn’t even thirty and Fernando’s like forty-three. And isn’t he dating that journalist?” Oscar’s brows press together. “What journalist?” “The one that gave Fred shit.” “I thought she died?” The two look at each other, both baffled.
Logan thinks again of the journalist he’s seen around Fernando and the one that all of the Prema drivers, former and at the time current, had avoided or given shit statements too. They did look a bit different now that he really thought about it. Fernando’s journalist slash girlfriend didn’t have a fucking complex.
“Different journo.” Logan mutters. He then blinks, “wait, she died?” “Mate, you didn’t hear about that?” “No!” “She was supposed to be at Spa, remember. And we all were relieved when she wasn’t there. She died, car crash or something, I can’t remember.” “How do I not remember this?” Oscar shrugs as best as he can while laying down. “I don’t know.”
It’s silent for a moment, “you don’t think,” “No.” Oscar shakes his head, but he doesn’t sound too sure. “I mean, yeah no.” “Right.” He looks up at the ceiling.
“Okay, so Fernando is out of the running.” Logan groans, “Os, no.” “Look he clearly has eyes, but if he’s dating someone he’s out. He wasn’t the only one looking.” “Oscar, please, it’s my mom.” “She’s like my mom too, which is why we have to talk about this.” Oscar insists, wriggling closer to Logan. Their sides completely pressed together and when Logan turns his head to look at the other, their noses nearly brush. He looks at Oscar’s face, all earnest and caring and sighs. “Fine. Charles was looking, but he only dates one type, so safe from him.” “Lando was looking.” Logan snorts, “I thought this was for potential dates, not another kid.” He laughs, their noses brushing together from the movement. “Okay, no Lando. Max.” “He kind of looked weird when you introduced her.” He frowns. “I saw that too.” “But he also got all blushy when they talked.”
“The drivers do know, I mean Alex knows that she didn’t like birth you, right?” Logan’s frown deepens. “Of course. I mean, it’s not super well known, but it’s a little hard to believe that she naturally had a kid twenty years ago.” “Thought so.” Oscar then chuckles. “Imagine, them thinking that she did, though. Just thinking she’s got some sort of insane skin care routine.”
“How in the hell does she look like that with a twenty-year-old kid?” “I know right?” Alex says, looking at Carlos. “It’s insane.” Charles pokes at his own cheek. “I think I need to ask her for advice, what products she uses. I want to age like her.” “We all want to age like her.” George agrees. “What are you saying?” Fernando frowns. A few of them share a look, but Charles and Max share a different one. “Mate, you’ve got wrinkles and all these lines.” Max says. “I mean those are natural, but look at her. The skincare helps.” Fernando frowns, “Lines?” Charles touches at his own lines, “see lines. From smiling, laughing, frowning. All good things, very nice. Just not uh,” his brows furrow drawing a blank. Lando snorts at his struggle. “You just want to help your skin. Keep it healthy.” The older driver makes a humming noise, considering.
Her breath is caught in her throat, eyes wide as she watches the screen. Her heart feels like it is beating in double time. She wants to look away, doesn’t want to watch in case something horrible happens, but she can’t. Because Logan just overtook both Magnussen and Ocon in the same lap. Logan is in 9th. Logan is in a point scoring position with only five laps of the race left. Logan might score his first formula 1 points at his home race, at his actual home race, at his first ever home race.
Her hands are shaking, fingers locked together as she presses them against her mouth, trying to breathe, praying that Logan won’t fall back out of the points.
She doesn’t even notice that he’s lessened that gap to Pierre until suddenly he’s overtaken the other French driver, just three laps later. “Oh my god.” “Fuck.” “Benny,” she whispers, and one of her hands is dropping so she can clutch at the older man. “Benny, I think,” “He’s gonna do it.”
And sure enough he does it. Logan holds his place in front of Pierre and finishes in 8th.
“Yes!” The whole garage is cheering and she’s wrapping her arms around Benny, laughing when the trainer lifts her. “He did it! He did it!” She cheers. The garage quiets though as Gaetan starts to speak on the radio.
“Logan, you are on your cooldown lap.” “Got it. Where’s Alex?” She winces at the question, one of her hands grips at Benny’s shoulder as he sets her back down, the other holding onto her headphones that miraculously didn’t get thrown off her head or disconnected when celebrating. “Alex is P14, P14.” It’s quiet for a moment. “Okay, I’m sorry we didn’t get any points today, next race is ours right? The car felt great.” Both of her hands fly up to her mouth. “Logan.” Gaetan’s voice is full of disbelief and laughter. “Mate, you finished P8. You got us points. You got your first points.” She can see him react to the news, the car jerking underneath him for a second, before he wrangles it back under control. “What? What do you mean?” “You finished in P8. Clean race, finished ahead of both Alpines and Magnussen.” “Holy fuck.” The garage fills with laughter at his reaction and tears start to build in her eyes. “You guys,” his voice breaks. “Thank you guys so much. This was you guys, the car felt great, really.” She watches as James hops on the radio. “This was you as well, Logan. Amazing drive today.” “Thank you, James. Thank you so much for this.”
His mechanics, Benny and her, quickly go over to where the cars are parking, watching as Logan slots it into place. He’s a little shaky as he gets out of the car and he’s about to dart towards them but someone from the FIA, is ushering him to the scale.
His reluctance is clear even with his helmet on, but he goes. Letting them take his weight and as soon as it’s written down, he’s stepping off and away, fumbling with his gloves and then his helmet.
There’s an awed grin on his face, tears in his eyes, and seeing it makes the tears that have built in her own fall.
His gloves and helmet tumble to the ground as his mechanics and Benny surround him, celebrating his points.
Logan laughs when they finally let them go and his eyes light up when he sees her and he darts to her and she easily welcomes him into her arms.
“I’m so proud of you.” She tells him, squeezing his sweaty body close before running a hand through his hair. “You did amazing.” “I did it, momma.” His voice is weak and she can feel tears hit the skin of her neck where his head is buried. “You did it.”
“Logan did amazing, it was a good drive.” She blinks in surprise at the voice, turning in her barstool to look. “Max?” He smiles at her, cheeks flushed. “He did really well.” “He did.” She agrees before patting the stool next to her. His smile widens as he takes the seat. “I didn’t realize that Red Bull was in the same hotel.” Maybe she should have since she had spotted a few Red Bull polos, but she figured it was fan gear. “I think Aston is here as well. You aren’t celebrating with Logan?” She shakes her head. “We already celebrated. Him, Oscar, and a bunch of his friends here are throwing a party. I wasn’t really interested in watching them all get wasted, so this,” she gestures to the hotel bar, “is me having a drink to celebrate before going up to my room and ordering some room service.” “Could I join you?” His cheeks redden at the words, at the way her eyebrows raise. “Not like that. But for food? I’ve never actually eaten anywhere in Miami that wasn’t catering.” She stares at him for a moment before nodding. “Yeah. And I have the perfect place to take you.”
“Did I actually score points yesterday?” “You did.” “Sweet.” “Very. How’s the head?” Logan shrugs, “I mean, I drank a lot, but like I’m just dehydrated.” She shakes her head, “That will change in a few years.” “Not gonna tell me to not drink underage?” He teases, bending down to press a kiss to her cheek before grabbing her glass of juice and draining it. She snorts. “We’re in Europe most of the time and I gave you your first drink. I don’t think I have a leg to stand on. And you were celebrating.” “True.”
He sits across from her, refilling the glass and taking another drink from it before setting it down and starting to help himself to her pancakes, which she just pushes closer to him. “How was your night? You could have joined us. We wouldn’t of minded.” “I’m your mom, Logan.” She laughs. “I think the me going to your friend's parties ship sailed a few years ago.” “Yeah, but you're awesome. We like having you around.” “I know.” She smiles. “I wasn’t in the mood to watch all of you get wasted.” “Fair.” he says around a bite of pancake, which she sends him a look for and he quickly swallows the food. Giving her a smile that says sorry.
“So, how was your night?” “It was good.” She tells him, spearing a piece of fruit with her other fork. “I came back to the hotel, had a drink, and then got dinner with Max.” His brows press together. “Max?” “Verstappen.” She clarifies. “Red Bull is staying here as well, he saw me at the hotel bar and asked if he could join me for some food.”
“You went on a date?” Her eyes narrow at him. “It wasn't a date.” “You went on a date.” He scrambles for his phone. “Oscar is never gonna believe it.” “I go on dates.” “Momma, you’ve gone on like five dates. And two of those were before you turned eighteen.” She scowls at him. “It wasn’t a date. We just got dinner.” She insists. “Uh huh.” He says, clearly not believing her. “Did he pay?” “Yes.” “Pull your chair out, help you with your coat, anything like that?” Her mind flashes back to Max helping her get out of his car, his insistence on opening doors for her. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean,” Logan continues. “Did he walk you to your hotel room? Say that he had a good time and he’d like to do it again?” “Oh.” Logan grins at her, smug, as he finishes typing out a text to Oscar. “You went on a date last night.” “I went on a date last night.” And she doesn’t mention the fact that a new number resides in her phone.
“Logan!” He stops at the sound of his name, turning to look behind him, where Max Verstappen is nearly jogging to catch up with him. “Max.” He greets, when the older driver is next to him, nerves filling him at the eyes of said driver on him, along with how a few other drivers are also looking at the pair, shock and surprise clear on their faces. “Hey.” Max grins. “How are you feeling about the track?” He looks at the older driver in confusion. They had just left the drivers briefing, why was he asking him this? Alex had already spoken about how the team was feeling about Monaco. “The car won’t be the best here, but we said that in Miami, so we’re hoping to repeat that here. Alex has a good chance at ending in a point scoring position.” He reiterates what he's been told and what he’s been telling the press. “But how are you feeling about it?” Logan stares at the Dutchman, eyes flickering around trying to see if cameras are there, if his momma is there, but there isn’t anyone. The other drivers are already gone, so are the FIA people. It’s just him and Max. “Y’know you don’t have to talk to me because you went out with my mom.” He expects relief, like that one dick Jase, and really who puts that on a birth certificate, but Max just frowns. “I know, I don’t have to.” Logan swallows around the lump in his throat, “right.” Turning around, he starts to walk, somehow knowing that the other driver will join him. “It’s a tricky track, it’s Monaco. I was here last year and I barely got in the points.” “P10 and P9.” He throws the driver a look, because that was too much to know, but Max is just looking at him, encouraging him to continue. “The car isn’t suited for it. I mean it wasn’t for Miami, but this is different. And I’m still not managing my tyres correctly, so even if I did manage to gain positions, I’d get called in to pit and lose them.” Max huffs out a laugh. “You are a rookie in a Williams, it’s impressive that you’ve already gotten points. If you could manage your tyres, when sometimes even I struggle, well I’d put you in Checo’s seat.” “Not yours?” He laughs again, “No. I’m a bit better at it than Checo.” Logan couldn’t really deny that.
“Do you want some advice? On the tyres?” Logan quickly nods. “I’ll take anything I can get.” “Don’t fight the car too much on the turns. If you need to get it to turn properly or without going on the brakes too soon, fight it. But when you don’t, let the car be stable, keep it fluid. When you come out of the corner, press harder. It might feel like you’ll go into the wall, but you won’t.” “And if I go into the wall?” Max laughs, clapping him on the shoulder. “I think you're a better driver than that mate.”
“How are you doing that in the turns?” Logan looks up from his notebook, where he’d been scribbling a bunch of random words. Looking at the screen, he watches his own onboard. He thinks about saying that it was Max that told, but no one at Williams liked hearing about Red Bull, especially with Alex in the room. “Just something I thought I’d try.” “Well, it was good, continue doing it. We may have ended up out of the points, but we got close.” Logan nods. Even with his five-second penalty, he had still kept fourteenth, and Alex ended up in twelfth. “Will do.”
Max had thought about her in his apartment a lot, an embarrassing amount. He had also pictured it very differently. A nice dinner, wine, even though a majority of it made his nose wrinkle, perhaps some kissing on his couch as a movie plays that they both don’t care about.
He hadn’t expected lunch, with juice that he’s trying to figure out how he’s never had it when he’s lived in Monaco for so many years, and a somewhat serious conversation, though maybe he has been expecting that one or rather anticipating it.
“I like you, Max.” He flushes, “I like you too.” He really did, even though his mother was going to have a heart attack when she found out how much older Pan was than him. “And I want to continue doing this.” She gestures between them with her free hand that isn’t being held in his. “So,” sensing that there’s something she wants to say. “I’m a mom.” He blinks at her words, panic starting to fill him. He thought he’d made that clear that he knew that, understood that. He always made sure to ask about Logan. He even had Logan’s number now after talking to him about how he felt about the Monaco track. “I know.” “Logan is important to me.” Oh, god, did Logan not like him? “The most important thing to me. And if we're going to continue to do this, I just need you to know that. He’s always going to be my first priority.” “Of course.” Relief fills him, his heart slows from its frantic beating. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.” She stares at him, trying to gauge how truthful he’s being before nodding. “Okay.”
“Did you think that I didn’t know that?” She shakes her head immediately. “No, it’s just. I don’t really do this.” She laughs. “Dating, relationships. Logan pointed that out to me, so I don’t really know how this goes and I just had to make it clear, put it on the table now.” “I don’t really do this either.” He hesitates to ask his next question, but does. “Logan’s father. What was your relationship with him like?” Her face screws up in disgust. “Ew.” He laughs, not expecting that reply or that word to sum up a relationship. But fair enough.
“I mean the idea of a relationship between me and Logan’s father is gross. Logan’s,” she pauses, seeming to settle on a different word. “Birth parents are my aunt and uncle.” “His what?” He could have sworn she said birth parents, but that couldn’t be right. “His birth parents.” She looks at him, concerned. “I adopted Logan when I turned eighteen. Did you think I gave birth to him?” “No.” He says, shaking head and clearing his throat. “Of course not.” She stares at him, lips pressed together. He sighs, slumping in his seat, eyes closing. “I may or may not have thought you were just a really, really young looking forty-something year old woman.” She immediately bursts into laughter and his eyes fly open at the sound. “You thought?” “The graphic for the race footage says you are his mother, I did not think otherwise. I just thought you looked great for your age.” He defends, a little embarrassed, but delighted by the expression on her face and her laughter that is still filling his ears. “I am his mother, just adopted.” “Not that either of you see it that way.” “No.” She shakes her head, laughing one last time before calming down.
“No. Logan’s mine, he’s been mine practically since he was born. It just wasn’t seen that way legally until I was eighteen and custody got signed over to me.” “Of course.” He then flashes her smile, “So can I ask how old you are?” She laughs, nodding. “Yes, Max. I think just this once it’s better to ask a lady her age than assume it.” “How old are you?” “I’m twenty-nine.” He looks at her with new eyes, the age making much more sense. “I would’ve said twenty-five.” “Really? I think you would’ve said forty-something.” “How was I to know?” He throws his free hand in the air at the tease, his other still holding hers.
“Hi, baby.” She greets when Logan stumbles out of his room, practically still asleep, as he drops onto the couch. “Momma.” He whines, resting his head on her lap and turning his face to press it into her stomach, trying to block out the sun. Her fingers brush through his hair as she forces her body to stay relaxed. It was always a fight when he did this.
She hated that her body didn’t bear any signs of being pregnant before, no stretch marks around her belly. She hated that she hadn’t actually gotten to carry Logan no matter how impractical it was, unless of course she was as old as Max had thought she was. She smiles at the memory of how flustered Max had looked when he realized her actual age.
He mumbles something and she turns his face away from her stomach. “What?” “How was your date last night?” Her smile widens. “It was good.” “Yeah?” She nods. “Did you see Jimmy and Sassy?” “No.” She runs her hand over his forehead, knowing that he’s thinking of Sooty. “We should talk though after you’ve had some breakfast.” “About what?” “Breakfast first.”
“What do we need to talk about?” Logan asks nearly thirty minutes later, his fruit bowl all gone and his coffee on its way to be there as well. She swallows, hands flexing. “Max.” “What about Max?” She sighs. “Well, baby, him and I talked about becoming serious last night. But that’s not gonna happen until I know how you feel.” “You know, I’m okay with it.” “I know you're okay with me dating, but this is a bit more complicated. Max is on the grid with you and we’re talking about a relationship.” Logan eyes widen a bit at the word relationship. “I mean, how does Max feel about it? About being with someone who has a kid on the grid?”
He asks knowing it will give him time to figure out how to tell her how he feels and because he wants to know, he kind of wants Max to be okay with it. He likes Max, and not just as a driver. The older driver is kind and funny, he also looks at his mom like she’s the sun, he makes her happy and that’s enough to put him in Logan’s good books. His mom deserves the best and he thinks from what little he’s seen, from how much more happy his mom has been (and god that was weird, because it wasn’t even like she wasn’t happy before) that Max might be the best for her. And Max now every time he sees Logan is always stopping to talk to him even if it’s just for a second to say a quick hi.
“Max is good with it. He knows that you're my number one and that’s never going to change.” Logan flushes at the words. “He also likes you, thinks you're a good kid.” She lets out an amused huff as the word kid leaves her mouth. It was odd to hear Max describe Logan that way, with only five years between them. But at the same time she knew it came from being practically a veteran in the sport. Max was coming up on ten years in Formula 1 despite his young age. He flushes even more. “Really?” “Yeah.” She smiles. “He always asks about you, it’s really sweet. And he knows to that if you aren’t comfortable with this or need more time then that’s what will happen.” “I am an adult.” “You are.” She was sadly well aware of that fact. “But you are my baby, my kid. I couldn’t be in a relationship with someone if you didn’t like them or if it made you uncomfortable.” He nods. “I’m okay with it. Max makes you happy, he’s nice.” “Yeah?” “Yeah.”
She lets out a giggle as arms wrap around her from behind, lips pressing against her cheek. “Hi.” “Hi.” Another kiss is pressed to her cheek. “Can I help?” She glances down at what she’s finishing up. “No. You could set the table, though?” “Done.” A kiss is pressed to her temple and then the blanket of heat that covered her back is gone. “What cabinet?” “First one entering the kitchen on the left.” She says, turning her head a bit to watch as Max pulls the dishes out.
Her mouth goes a little dry as she watches him. His t-shirt is tight around his biceps and chest. His skin is a little tanned after their date a few days ago on a friend's yacht. She forces her eyes to not look at his hands, instead trailing them up to his strong shoulders and neck and then to his face. Max, she thinks as he starts to put the plates on the table, is unfairly attractive. Before he can catch her staring, she checks on the final thing on the stove. “Perfectly done.” She mumbles with a smile.
The sound of the front door opening makes her smile grow wider as she grabs a pot holder. “Am I late?” “Just on time.” She tells Logan as he steps into the kitchen. “Can I,” She stops him before he can continue. “No, go wash up.” “Alright.” He bends a little to press a kiss to her cheek before turning on his heel, offering a wave to Max. “Hi.” “Hi, Logan.”
Picking up the pan, she shakes her head as Max goes to try and take it from her. “Logan and you are both going to get on too well.” “Why’s that?” He asks, a twinkle in his eye. “You both don’t like when I lift anything.” “What’s the point of having a son or a boyfriend, then?” Logan says, clapping Max on the shoulder as he comes back. Max grins at the younger, delighted as he claps him back. “Exactly. We feel a bit neglected.” She rolls her eyes, shaking her head, though a smile is stretching across her lips.
Max watches amused as the mother and son argue.
“Mom, it would be for two races, two, that’s it.” “One race, really.” Max chimes in, smiling when she glares at him. “Spa is nice, but Zandvoort is really what I consider my home race.” “See, it would be one race. Max wants you in his garage.” Logan says, looking at the other driver, begging for him to help but at the last sentence Max shakes his head. “I never said that. Well, I would like to see Pan in my garage, not for the whole weekend, or even a day. She’s part of your team.” Logan looks at him, bewildered. “But, it’s your home race.” He shrugs. “I’d like for her to stop by, you as well. I already have it cleared with the team. Staying for even a whole session though just doesn’t make any sense. I don’t need her on my side of the garage to know that she’s supporting me, wanting me to do well, not when you are on the grid.” “Are you sure?” Max smiles at Logan, because yes he was sure. Did he want her there, supporting him? Maybe even dressed in something with his number? Of course. But, he liked seeing her in Logan’s garage. Supporting him, wearing his merch, being a mom. “I’m more than sure.”
“Besides,” she says, drawing both of their attention. “Max and I haven’t gone public yet. Or really told anyone yet.”
“Well, this is a bit of an odd one.” Laura says as they stop in front of the Red Bull garage. The cameraman focuses on what she’s looking at. “Both Logan Sargeant and his mother, better known as Pan from Formula 2 fans, are in the Red Bull garage, currently talking with our current championship leader Max Verstappen, his engineer GP, and Daniel Ricciardo.” “Shall I see if I can steal one of them away?” Will asks, smiling at the camera as he holds the F1 TV microphone loosely. “Please.” She gestures.
Will steps towards the garage smiling at the small group hovering just inside. “Could I steal one of you for a quick minute?” The five exchange a look and Will stops himself from rolling his eyes at the way they all look annoyed at the idea, but Logan nods. “Sure.” “Thank you.”
He watches as Logan says something quietly to them, getting nods from them all. His brow furrows when Max squeezes his shoulder before the younger driver gives his mom a quick hug, making him shake his head. Logan Sargeant was an absolute mommy’s boy and it was embarrassing as all hell to see. He couldn’t imagine being twenty and hugging his mom in public, let alone all those videos and photos of him reaching for her hand.
Will ignored the part of him that did think it was sweet and felt bad for the kid. He couldn’t look all sappy while filming, especially not when in front of the Red Bull garage.
“Hi everyone.” Logan greets, taking the third mic from the newest crew member. “Hello, Logan. How are you feeling about this weekend?” He smiles at Laura. “I’m feeling okay, I’ve raced here before, obviously not in an F1 car, but I do have some experience with this track.” “And you and your mum’s visit to the Red Bull garage, should we expect an announcement of you switching teams?” She teases. “No.” He laughs. “No, uh, just visiting for personal reasons. Saying hello to Daniel, wishing Max a good home race.” “I mean, I’m not sure, he needs it.” Will jokes, gaining a few laughs. “So, no business to be done at Red Bull? Just saying a hello and wishing a good race to a fellow driver.” “Yeah,” he pauses, looking back at the garage where it’s just Max and his mom standing now watching him with smiles on their faces. It’s only that he continues when his mom gives a brief nod, one barely able to be seen by the camera. “And I wasn’t just wishing a fellow driver good luck.” “Oh?” Logan grins, looking pleased with himself. “I was wishing my new dad good luck.”
“Carlos Sainz is a cunt.” Max freezes at her words, hand still on the doorknob from just stepping into the room. “Hi, schat.” “Carlos Sainz is a cunt.” She repeats. His brain is scrambling because what exactly had Carlos done but also why was it so attractive to her say the word cunt. It had to be the accent, he decided quickly, still trying to figure out the Carlos thing. “And why is Carlos a cunt?” He finally asks, releasing the door knob and stepping further into the room.
She’s on her laptop, rapidly typing something, and he can feel anger radiating off her.
“That bullshit he spewed, blaming Oscar’s inexperience.” She scoffs, pausing her typing as she shakes her head. “It was an incident, a racing incident, something he knows a lot about. There was no inexperience fault.” “Oscar’s okay?” He already knows that he is, but knows it's good to ask. “He’s good. He knows that it's a racing incident.” Max winces. Wonders for a second if he should warn Carlos to keep his mouth shut, but shrugs. It wasn’t his fault that Carlos was getting in trouble because he couldn’t watch his mouth or correctly look at footage. “Can I help?” She sighs, hitting close on whatever she was writing in. “No.” She then closes her laptop, turning to face him, with a smile. “Hi. Congrats on the win.” “Thank you.” He bends to kiss her. “You okay?” “Yeah, just,” she waves her hand at her laptop, “stuff.” “Anything I can help with?” She starts to shake her head no as he sits on the edge of the bed, but she stops. “Actually, could I get your insight on something? Not just as a driver, but as someone who lives and breathes racing, loves data, really knows how the sport works.” “Of course. What’s going on?”
Another sigh leaves her, hand coming up to rub at her mouth for a second before it drops. “Why would a team not resign a driver?” His eyebrows furrow, because she knows the reasons, but he answers. “Not performing well, they want out of the team or sport, sponsorship issues.” “The driver wants to stay in the sport and the team.” Her lips turn downwards a bit at the word team. “And the driver brought new sponsorships to the team.” “They have to be not performing well.” “They’re a rookie in a back marker team.” “They have to be really performing badly.” Max says, trying to think of who in Formula 2 or 3 she’s talking about. “They already have six points and have placed ahead of their experienced teammate three times.” His mind is scrambling again, trying to find a reason, because what? “How many does his teammate have?” “Nine.” “I have no idea. Not unless there’s conflict within the team.” She shakes her head. “Is there potentially a more experienced driver for the spot?” She shakes her head. “They’re looking at another rookie or maybe someone who stepped away from the series for a year, though they’d rather take a rookie than him.” “I don’t have an answer for you. It doesn’t make sense to me.” She nods, expression falling and she’s rubbing at her face.
“What’s going on?” He asks, standing up just to crouch down in front of her, taking her hands in his. “The driver’s Logan.” “What?” “Williams isn’t sure they want to offer Logan another year.” Max stares at her. “How?” “I don’t know.” She shrugs, laughing. “There’s talks of them signing whoever wins this F2 championship or even the runner-up depending on who it is. Logan’s making too many mistakes.” “He’s costing them too much money.” Max fills in the blank, shaking his head. “That’s ridiculous. Don’t take a rookie if you can’t afford it. You are supposed to account for the worse. And he’s doing well. It’s not his fault that they built a shit car.” “I don’t know what to do.” She admits, voice just a whisper, and his heart clenches painfully at the sound of it, at the tears in her eyes. “This is his dream. I don't know what to do if that gets taken away from him.” “It won’t. We’ll figure something out.” He tells her, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
“I think I’m spoiled.” Max says, watching as she gets ready for bed. A faint feeling of arousal pooling his gut as she pulls on one of his shirts. He absentmindedly wonders if it would be weird to wear it tomorrow to the track, the scent of her lotion clinging to it. “Why’s that, honey?” He smiles, cheeks a bit pink, and that arousal builds a bit more at the pet name, at the way she shifts in the vanity chair to loosen some tension in her back. “You come to every race, you see me win, you celebrate them, you got to see me win my third championship today.” Those words feel weird off his tongue, today, but totally sober to celebrate. He wants desperately for tomorrow to come, for the race to finish so they can celebrate, him, her, Logan, the team. “I guess you are a bit spoiled.” He gasps, clutching at his heart, making her giggle. “That’s okay though.” She says, getting up and moving onto the bed, straddling him. “I think I like you spoiled.” He groans as she dips her head, pressing a kiss to the flutter of his pulse. “Schat.” It's a warning to stop and a plea for more. “I know.” She kisses the spot a bit firmer. “Celebrations will have to wait just a day longer.” She then rolls off him, his arm immediately lifting so she can press against his side.
“It’s cruel to win with a sprint race.” She snorts, “A sprint race never stopped us before.” “It’s cruel to win with a sprint race in Qatar.” He amends. “Very true.”
He sighs, staring at the ceiling as he calms down, luckily the feeling of her fingers tapping along his stomach not making it harder. “How’s Logan feeling?” Max asks, remembering how pale he looked when they got dinner. She sighs, moving somehow closer. “Not great. No fever, but his stomach is still a bit upset.” He winces. “He gonna be okay tomorrow?” “I hope so. The team knows that he’s sick, they’ll make the right choice.” “I hope so.” He echoes, wishing that Logan felt better, hoping that he feels better by the time the race starts.
“We are confident in him.” Max scoffs, tossing his phone aside. “I know.” “Logan still wanting to do his new routine.” She nods, lips pursed. He shakes his head. “He did good.” It wasn’t the rookie season that Oscar had, but it couldn’t be. Oscar got lucky enough to get a seat in a near top team, while Logan got one with a back of the grid team that was sometimes midfield.
Logan scoring ten points, getting himself to sixteenth in the standings, tied with Bottas in the standings, was very good for a rookie. It was a shame that Williams seemed to think he could’ve and should have done better. At least, Max thinks, the 2025 grid was wide open for possibilities.
“Are him and Oscar still joining us?” She throws him a look. “Us?” “You.” He amends, knowing that despite him joining her, he’d get caught up in Redline and different things. He was just happy she didn’t mind that. “Only for a few days and then they both are off to Australia.” “Will Logan be joining us for Florida?” “Yes. My mom has been asking the next time she’s going to see her only grandchild.” Max laughs at the eye roll. “So, Belgium first, then Monaco,” “You go to Milton for a day after.” He nods, “then Greece, Florida, Monaco.” “Not bad for the first few weeks of winter break.” “Not bad at all.” He agrees, wrapping his arms around her waist, chest pressed against her back.
It’s quiet between the couple as Max sways them.
“Max.” “Yes?” “Your mom, she does know that I’m not in my forties right? Or thirties?” She figured that the woman did, but she also had only briefly gotten to meet her at the one race, and there had been an odd expression on her face when Max introduced her as his girlfriend. He freezes. “Max.” “I knew I forgot something.”
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@ohtous @cixrosie @darleneslane @fanboyluvr @teti-menchon0604 @eugene-emt-roe @quackquackhun @rewmuslupin @copper-boom @stopeatread @crashingwavesofeuphoria @jointhehunt67 @namgification @asphalstead @poppyflower-22 @racingheartsposts @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @hiireadstuff @iloveyou3000morgan @boiohboii @bibliosaurous @skepvids @elliegrey2803
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pomefioredove · 3 months
Note
Hiya! Hope you're doing okay, and take it easy if you haven't been!
For the flirty prompts starters list, could you maybe do: "Stop saying things that make me want to kiss the hell out of you." with Vil? I think it'd be a good one
Thanks!
(I hope you have fun writing this if you do! No biggie if you don't or if someone else already asked!)
GIGGLING SO MUCH
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summary: "stop saying things that make me want to kiss the hell out of you" type of post: short fic characters: vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, Vil experiencing cuteness aggression.jpg, not proofread a part of this event
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Vil considers himself to be an eloquent man.
After all, how one speaks is just as important as how one carries themselves, and every last inch of him, from his looks to his body language to his words, have been refined to perfection. Each a golden thread in the dazzling tapestry that is Vil Schoenheit.
And yet, despite that, he still can't seem to find a way to describe you.
Frustrating is not quite right. Epel is frustrating. Those first years you insist on spending your precious time with are frustrating. But you...
You are not annoying, nor are you incompetent. His usual vocabulary for the students of NRC is useless when it comes to you.
...And different is too vague.
Vil just seems to forget what to do with his hands when you're around.
You look so soft in the golden afternoon light of the lounge, which is distracting enough as it is. Now you're giggling in the way you do, and he can't concentrate, and... what was he doing, again?
"Stop that," he says, plainly, not looking up from the textbook he'd been reading. Or trying to, anyway. He'd lost his place some time ago.
You make this... sound, this confused little hum, and he pictures you tilting your head to the side like a puppy. Sevens, you're just so...
He huffs. "I said, stop,"
"Stop what?"
Clueless little thing. Vil sighs, finding it within himself to make eye contact. He'd given up on finishing this assignment early, anyway.
"You know what,"
You stare back, unblinking. Are you really so oblivious? No, there's no way you aren't doing this on purpose, whatever it is, just to get on his nerves. Did those friends of yours put you up to this?
He should scold you. He invited you to study with him, a luxury which many would pay millions for, and here you are, being...
Ugh. He still can't think of the right word.
"Am I being too loud?" you ask, a confused lilt in your voice.
Sevens, you are so dense, he wants to just grab you and squeeze you like a stress ball until a thought comes out of that empty head.
The thought of that is no help. If anything, it just bothers him more.
He pinches the bridge of his nose. Are you really not doing this on purpose? "No. You're distracting me,"
"Oh... sorry,"
...In such a soft, meek little tone, like you really feel bad about it, looking up at him with those eyes of yours... ugh. He wants to bite you, squeeze you in his arms until this overwhelming, restless feeling passes. You're so...
"It's... fine," Vil relents. "I don't think I would've gotten much done today, anyway."
You actually tilt your head to the side this time, worsening his condition. "Something on your mind?"
Sevens, what are you doing to him? He can't sit still. He pictures himself reaching across the table to pinch your cheeks, to kiss that sweet, worried expression off your face. The effect you have...
And you're not even doing anything!
"No," he says, his voice strained with the weight of the lie. "Just burnout. It's a busy time of year for me."
You seem to take that as a cue, standing from your seat with wide eyes and holding out a hand, much to his chagrin.
"You should be resting, then. Overworking yourself will only make things worse. Come on, let's go back,"
Such a determined expression on that pretty face of yours. There's just something about how you respond so innocently, so intent on caring for him, you're...
You're so...
Vil feels his heart drop. Oh, Sevens. That's the word.
You're so cute.
"Stop that," he snaps. He can feel his face warming. "This is the last time I'll ask."
A little flash of annoyance crosses your face at his dismissal. How adorable...
"Stop what?" You repeat.
Even your scoff is cute. His face feels hot. He can handle beautiful. Gorgeous, pretty, sexy, even, But not cute. And now he's getting himself all worked up over it, and you're being so sweet, and...
"Stop saying things that make me want to kiss the hell out of you!"
Nothing has ever had such an effect on him before.
After all, it would take something incredible to fluster Vil- and here he is, blurting out every thought he has, blushing like a schoolgirl as he realizes what just came out of his mouth.
Vil Schoenheit, suddenly terrified of being rejected. It was as if he'd woken up in a parallel universe.
Or died, and went to his own personal Hell.
The shock slowly wears off your face, and you... laugh.
You laugh.
"You're very forward,"
"I'll take that as a compliment, and not the way you meant it," he mumbles, crossing his arms over his chest. "Though I'm failing to find what's so amusing."
You move around the table to sit next to him, eyes gleaming. "How would you like me to react, then?"
Vil stares back. Was that... flirtation? Perhaps you're not so oblivious, after all...
But still cute.
Still very cute.
He sighs, though there's a smile playing at his lips now. "Save me the embarrassment of being rejected,"
"Hmm... I suppose that can be arranged,"
And with that, he cups your face in his hands and draws you in for that kiss.
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shmalk · 6 months
Text
141 is filled with alphas, not a single omega in sight. there are a few betas, but they're either low-ranking or transfers that were never going to last.
like you! (beta!reader) who works at reception and takes calls, scans badges and is the first point of contact for the task force.
none of them know your name, none of them even speak to you - maybe price, when you transfer a call to him, he'll mumble a thank you. or even laswell, when you bring her a coffee.
it's nothing, really, you don't mind.
only, one day, a totally normal friday, you've done the exact same style in your hair you always have, and you're wearing more clothes than you were yesterday.
price wants a coffee, sure- you make it, just the way he likes, and head towards his office. you knock, and wait a few seconds until you hear 'come in.'
the office is silent, it usually is - but this time there's more than just price inside.
they're finishing up just as you enter, soap and gaz sitting in front of the desk whilst ghost leant against the back wall.
"my apologies, captain." your voice isn't exactly quiet - why should it be, you've done nothing wrong, but its still respectful. price just nods as you place the cup down on his desk.
"thanks, that's all." he dismisses everyone in the room, and you wait for the boys to file out before you do, soap and gaz both giving you a cheeky smile.
ghost is the one to hold open the door, standing just adjacent to the doorway with his arm sprawled against it. its a heavy door, and you swallow as you pass him.
"thank you," you all but mumble out as you rush past him - straight into the break room.
you can't help but rant about the situation to your roommate whilst you're packing up your things, your phone tucked between your jaw and shoulder.
"i mean- he held the door open for me and i couldn't even look him in the eye to say thank you!" you stress, throwing your bag into your passenger seat before leaning back against your car. "god, all i wan't right now is a plate of sushi and some boba."
"too bad its pizza night, dweeb."
"thats not fair! i could loose my job, i should be allowed to eat my comfort food when im stressed out."
you stress about it over the whole weekend, and when you return back to work on monday you try to act as casual as possible. of course, you don't see ghost - price doesn't order a coffee, and youre break time comes around quicker than you expected.
you had brought- oh, theres- your favourite sushi, and a boba drink sitting where your food was supposed to be. in somewhat messy hand writing, on a small piece of paper, theres your name.
signed ' s. riley. '
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i am a sucker for sweet lil moments like this !!
in my head i think that simon would like a beta, or an alpha, but in this lil snippet (which is CERTAINLY getting turned into a fic) he's big and broad and gets worried when he's with alphas because they can't think straight, he tells them what to do and he does it.
but you? you dont react to his scent or chase him down to get him to court you - so, of fource, he courts you. <3
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reiderwriter · 7 months
Text
♡ Girls Just Wanna Have Fun ♡
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Week 5 of my Playlist Series ♡
Summary: Spencer isn't used to clubs, but when duty calls, he's made to feel a little bit more welcome by a girl who seems to know him better than a stranger should.
Warnings: Smut 18+ Minors DNI!! Hotchner!Reader (Reader is Hotch's sister), semi-public sex (x2 oops), oral sex (m receiving), fingering, dry humping, hand job, cum play, dirty talk, degradation and name calling (slut only), use of daddy/sir even though this is like solidly season 1 Spencer lmao, corruption kink, loss of virginity (surprisingly the readers)
A/N: Every single intrusive thought I've ever had about s1 Reid tied up in a nice little bow masquerading as a song fic. It is finished, and now I feel flushed. Please expect only fluff from me until my next intrusive thought (maybe half an hour, probably no longer).
Masterlist || Spotify Playlist
Flashing lights and the scent of dried up alcohol stains weren't usually signs of Spencer Reid's presence. He'd managed to get through college - two degrees and three PhDs - without stepping foot into a nightclub. But now that he'd joined the BAU, it seemed to be an unavoidable occurrence. 
“The unsub hunts at this nightclub, I get that, I do. But why am I the one going in? He's targeting women,” he panicked as his older team member helped adjust his clothes to conceal the weapon he carried. 
“Because, pretty boy, it's student night, and you're the only one here who can pass for a 21 year old. I guess late puberty has some benefits.” Derek smacked his arm playfully, leaving the younger man wincing slightly. 
“But I'm not a woman.” 
“Yes, but you'll be able to walk around and note any suspicious behaviour, and then we can tail suspects you flag,” Hotch explained to him again. 
“Just act natural, kid, it's not like it's your first time in a club.” 
“It is.” His warnings fell on deaf ears though, as they pushed him out of the van and into the crowd of students queueing to enter. 
It didn't take you long to notice him after you arrived at the club.
The sweater vest was enough to make him stand apart slightly, as much as he was trying his best to blend in. A slight tingle of familiarity raced up your spine as his eyes awkwardly met yours, his scan of the room stopping short as he flushed and turned his eyes down. 
Pushing slightly to the crowd, you leaned over the counter next to him and tried to get the bartenders attention. It was loud and busy, but catching attention and keeping it was a skill you'd mastered early, a skill that you were thankful for as you realised the man's eyes were guiltily flicking between your ass and the crowd once again. 
“Are you going to stare, or are you going to introduce yourself,” you giggled, sliding closer to his perch at the bar, as he panicked, standing straighter. 
“I wasn't, um… your dress, there's a rip at the edge of your skirt, I was trying to figure out if it was part of the design because I know some clothes these days have damage built into the design, or if it was in need of some emergency… sewing.” His hands gesticulating awkwardly throughout his explanation, as if anxious to show you the jumble in his brain was entirely pure and innocent, even as the flush on his face said otherwise. 
“And your name is?” 
“I-.... Spencer. My name is Spencer.” 
You stood a little straighter hearing the name, that familiarity warming you more. Spencer. Spencer. Spencer. You turned the name over in your head but took another step closer as the crowd shifted in a wave, feeling the heat coming off his body. 
“Well, Spencer,” your tongue made the decision to act for your brain, the words coming out before you could stop them. “What conclusion did you draw? Do you think the rip was intentional or not?” 
Gently, you grabbed his hand and led it to the fabric. The skirt wasn't scandalously short, but short enough to suit the dark heated atmosphere of the club at least, but as his fingers grazed the back of your thighs, still hesitant in his actions, you found yourself wishing it were just that bit higher, so his hands would have to reach further up. 
With a gaze over your shoulder at the crowd, Spencer found himself at an impass. He'd already noted a few people of interest, loiterers, men getting a bit rough and aggressive in the club, people on the outskirts (like him, he supposed) that could possibly be their unsub. 
He'd been given the all clear to disengage and leave the club as effortlessly as he could  bit something in your initial gaze had pinned him to place at the bar, and refused still to let him see reason. 
“I think it's a design feature. To draw attention to…” he swallowed hard, but you weren't sure if he was just being delicate about his words or if he was reacting to the hand that was now on him, dragging nails up from his abdomen to his chest. 
“Good observation, Spencer.” 
“Your name. You didn't tell me what your name was.” He said, grabbing your hand to stop its progress and breathing deeply as if to clear his head. 
“Y/N. We should dance.” Without giving him time to react, you abandoned your drink on the counter and pulled his arm around your waist, dragging him out to the crush of people in the middle of the dance floor. 
His protests were lost in the pulse of the music, as you kept your back to him and began grinding and swaying against him. His hands tightened on your hips as he gently started moving with you, and you threw your head back to catch his eye again. 
Spencer didn't know what he'd gotten himself into. He knew that very little actually dancing actually went on at a club, that this was just a more polite socially acceptable form of foreplay, but he didn't know that it would have such an effect on him. 
A mess of sweaty, intoxicated people spilling drinks and other fluids, and he thought he'd stay there forever if it kept your hips torturing his cock like that. 
When you glanced up at him, he was a man lost to his senses, lust clouding his eyes, mouth slightly open in a pant, you reached up to his neck and pulled his lips down to meet yours. 
You were surprised when it was his to guess to reach out first, his hand that trailed under your shirt without tours guiding it. You'd picked up a fairly innocent man at the bar and turned him into a pervert in the space of one dance. It felt like the club was watching you, how his hands grazed the skin under your breasts and caused the shiver up your spine, how your back arched to press deeper against his election. 
You may have tempted him into taking this risk, but he was the one gleefully nosediving into his fall from grace. 
“Spencer,” you whispered as he came up for air, lips resting at your ear. “I think we should get some fresh air.” 
Something in that seemed logical. It was colder outside. Maybe it would cool off whatever had lit him up like a pyre on the dance floor. Maybe the fresh air would clear his head. Or maybe just the open space would help him detangle his hands from you, would lead his thoughts away from burying himself deep in you. 
He would gladly take you outside, bid you farewell, and return to his job and his life. It was a solid exit for his first cover - who was going to question the young lovers leaving together. 
You had a feeling that the idea of outside would have Spencer pulling away from you, but you hadn't had your fill of fun just yet. 
So just as you led him onto the dancefloor, you kept a hand over his, around your waist, and you guided him out of the club, down the street a few paces, and into a darkened alleyway. 
“Y/N, we shouldn't be-” he tried to stutter out as you pulled him in for another kiss. His brain was trying to protest, but his hands were already back on your ass, pulling you up and closer to him. 
“What was that?” You said between kisses, his mouth launching an assault against each inch of your skin. 
He gasped for breath and pulled back, realising that he'd lifted and pinned you to the cold brick wall of the alley in his haste to feel you pressed against him. 
“Y/N… I don't want to take advantage of you, I'm not-” 
“I'm taking advantage of you, Spencer,” you said, nipping at his neck slowly raking your hands into his shoulders. “Am I allowed to do that? Can I take all of you, Spencer?” 
His eyes rolled back in his head as he let put a groan of pleasure, your lips sucking at the tender flesh of his nape. 
“I-I'm not a student, and-” 
“I know, but you are such a pretty boy that I decided I wanted to have some fun with you.” 
His resolve broke in half as you uttered your compliments, and his lips met yours in a moan as his hands pushed your skirt up around your waist. 
His finger trailed between your hips and his, using the wall to balance you as he pushed aside your panties and began slowly stroking your sex. 
Your hips pitched forward to press more of his slender fingers against you,  desperate to feel him stretch your cunt open first with one, then two, then however many he decided was good enough for you. 
Leaving one hand on his shoulder, you let one trail down his pants, stepping one foot down to allow you access to his zipper. 
He pauses Again for a second as you manage to get his pants open, your hand pulling his cock free from the constraint of his clothing. Spitting on your hand, you wrap around it firmly and slowly pump up and down, looking him directly in the eye as you watch the pleasure pour over him. 
His forehead rests against yours as he melts into your touch, so desperate, needing to cum so badly that he's willing to let it happen in this dark dirty alley. 
“Spencer, I want to have a lot of fun with you. Will you let me?” 
“Yes, fuck Y/N.” He nods, his hips rocking into your hand with each slow stroke you give him. 
“Spencer,” you say, rocking your hips forward and pushing your panties further to the side once again. “Spencer, please fuck me. Take my virginity, Spencer, please.” 
His mind whirled at the sentence, the pleas dropping from your lips. Virginity. You were a virgin. 
You'd had him cock stiff after three minutes of conversation  had pulled him into an alleyway and lost him in a fog of pleasure, and you were still innocent. Untouched. 
You wanted to have your fun with him. You'd chosen him. 
He couldn't articulate the lust that coated his tongue, so he simply pushed it into your mouth  grabbed his cock from your hands, lined himself up with your drippy cunt and pushed in with a single thrust. 
You gasped and let out a moan, not quite fully pleasurable. Your hands again found his shouldend, his back, but your nails were sharper this time, digging in further, almost piercing skin. 
“Fuck, Spencer, yes,” you said, breathing shakily as you slowly started moving around his cock. 
“Did it hurt?” 
“It doesn't hurt anymore. Now, please Spencer, fuck me and don't hold back. It's more fun that way.” 
He pulled your hips closer, moaning as you tightened around him. Pressing one hand against the wall and keeping another hand gripped so hard around your hip you knew it'd bruise, he began moving. 
He began slow, trying not to lose himself in the feel of your unused, tight hole. But with each small moan, each scratch against his back, he lost a little bit more of that control he was begging for. 
With his hands engaged, his brows furrowed I'm frustration that he couldn't stroke your bundle of nerves, he couldn't force you to cum on his cock as quickly as he wanted to. 
“Y/N, look at me.” You opened your eyes at the words, unaware that they'd closed tight as you emptied all other senses to just feel him. 
“Touch yourself. Right there, that's it,” he watched your fingers rub delicately against your skin, spoke little words of encouragement, and told you to increase your speed and pleasure. 
“That's it. That's it, now it's time for you to cum, Y/N. Cum on my cock, rub your little clit for me and cum around my big cock, Y/N.” 
“Shit… shit, shit, shit, Spencer, oh my god.” Your hands shook, and your hips twitched, and with a cry, you reached that high you'd been craving since you met his eyes earlier. 
He pulled out of you, slowly pulling you off the wall, as he held you up, letting your legs regain their strength. His cock was still hard, still coated in your arousal as he took care of you. 
You caught your breath fast, regained tour strength quicker as you noticed he didn't plan on getting himself off anymore. He let you have your fun with him and was happy to end it all there. 
You weren't. 
“Spencer,” you sang again, wrapping a hand once again around his erection as he tried to straighten out your now slightly more ripped skirt. “Spencer, it's more fun of we both cum. I want you to make a mess of my hand, can you do that for me?” 
You stroked his cock with a firmer grip than before, your arousal lubricating each stroke, his pre-cum mingling with it to aid you further. You suddenly wondered what he would taste like, but knew your legs would be too weak to do everything your heart desired today. 
There was always tomorrow. 
He leaned his weight back on the wall behind you, forcing you back as well as you pumped him quickly so desperate to hear him moan your name as he spilt his seed. 
“Y/N,” he moaned, and you were triumphant. His hips jerked once, then twice, then a third time, and he stilled, heaving breaths as he buried his head in your shoulder. 
He swallowed and regained his breath, and as he pulled away, you pulled your fingers to your lips and lapped up the final drops of cum that he left there. 
Most of it had his the wall, dripped to the floor, but you enjoyed these few drops and smiled brightly at him, pulling a handkerchief that you knew would be in his pocket out and cleaning the two of you up. 
He flushed again as he came back to his senses, especially as you attempted to put his clothed to rights, stepping back to replace his softening cock in his pants.
“Well,” you said after setting yourself to rights, “Thank you for the fun night, Spencer. See you tomorrow.” 
You skipped off quickly before he had a second to even process your words. 
The next day at the local precinct was a blur for Spencer as he tried to drag himself from the drug induced haze of meeting you. He'd stroked himself to completion two more times in bed after he returned to his motel room, reliving the sound of you begging him to take you, the words ‘pretty boy’ on your lips as you spread your legs. 
It'd taken his entire brain, or what was left of it, to not jump out of his skin every time Morgan had teased him with the words that morning.
“Now how did you like your first club experience, pretty boy? Did any college cuties throw themselves at you?” 
He spat up his coffee, choosing that moment to choke, and begging god for this to just be the end of Spencer Reid entirely. 
Because there was no way Morgan would actually believe that that was exactly what had happened. 
“Morgan, Gideon wants you in the interrogation room, and- wow, Spencer, you should change your shirt. What are you, 5? You can't drink coffee properly?” Elle said, chuckling slightly.
“I choked,” he frowned, but it fell on deaf ears as his teammates walked away quickly to get back to their jobs. 
He wished he could recover so quickly, even now the image of you having your fun with him the night before playing like a movie in his head. 
Looking down, he realised Elle was right, and he really did need to change his shirt. Hotch always had a few spare on hand, even for cases out of the office. He grabbed some tissues, dabbing against the mess of coffee on his shirt, suddenly thankful for lukewarm police precinct coffee, and started making his way towards Hotch. 
“Hey, Hotch-” he made it three steps before your voice cried out. 
“Ronnie!!” You shouted, throwing your hands around your elder brother as he caught you in a hug. 
“Y/N, we're at a police station. If you're going to come see me, you have to at least call me Aaron.” 
“And not take the chance to embarrass you in front of your peers and coworkers? Not a chance, Ronnie. Not a chance.” He chuckled fondly, brushing away his complaints quickly as he turned to introduce you to JJ first, then Elle and then the frozen statue that had replaced Spencer. 
“And, Y/N, this is Dr. Spencer Reid. Spencer, this is my sister, Y/N. She's a student at the university.” 
You held out your hand with a triumphant grin as Spencer stared in wide-eyed horror at the apparition in front of him. 
“Hello, Spencer. It's very nice to finally meet you. My brother has told me a lot about you, and I'm very excited to pick your brains.” 
The air seemed to explode around Spencer as each breath became deliriously hot, filling his lungs with fire. It was moments before he realised that he wasn't actually breathing at all, and the air was actually quite normal. 
Your hand remained out, ready to greet him, and to the surprise of his coworkers, he took it in his for a short shake. 
“Y/N. Hotch's sister, Y/N. Nice to meet you, Y/N Hotchner, Hotch's sister.” 
He could practically hear the audible sound of Elle and JJ smacking a hand against their faces in horror at his stupidly obvious reaction to the woman in front of him. If he wasn't careful, he'd be spouting confessions of desire soon, and knowing that Aaron Hotchner carried two guns on his person even now did nothing to calm his thoughts. 
“Okay, well, Y/N, I'm busy with some interrogations now, but I can drive you back to your apartment in half an hour if you're okay to wait with JJ?” 
“Are you busy, Spencer?” You asked instead, keeping her eyes locked on the man who still weakly shook her hand, unaware of when the right time to stop would be. 
“I was serious when I said I wanted to pick your brain, my brother said you had a PhD in Engineering and I'm struggling through a class right now that I need some guidance in if you can spare five minutes?” 
Spencer stared between Hotch and you, looking for the right answer to please present itself before he imploded right there. 
“Yes. PhD, I have a PhD. Three actually, but whose counting? Me. I just counted them. One of them is in mathematics, actually, so I guess I'm always counting.” He finally dropped your hand, and you gave him a wider smile that dropped his heart to his stomach. “I am free, unless you needed me for something else, Hotch?” 
His gaze was pleading, though he wasn't sure if he was begging for his life, five more minutes alone with you or the power to extricate himself from this situation entirely, but Hotch nodded his acceptance quickly and let you lead Spencer off to the small, empty visitors room at the opposite side of the precinct. 
You shut the door behind you when you walked in, leaning over to close the blinds as well before you turned back to Spencer. 
“Your shirt is wet. You should probably take it off,” you giggled as you trailed a hand up his arm once again. 
His hand grabbed yours before you could do any more damage to his tender nerves than you'd already managed that morning. 
“You knew the entire time? Who I was?” 
“I walked over because you seemed familiar, but I only figured it out when you said your name. My brother does talk about you a lot.”
“Hotch is going to kill me,” he said, slumping down into the chair behind him. “Y/N, your brother was outside the club. He could've seen us leave.” 
You climbed into his lap, and his eyes finally met yours again, his tongue stopping its hopeless tirade as you relaxed into his chest. 
“I have two older brothers, Spencer. Do you know how often they've been able to tell me what to do?” Your hands started down his shirt, making quick work of the buttons as he stared up, enthralled. 
“Not once have they been able to stop me from doing something I wanted.” 
He scoffed quickly, unable to help himself. Your hands gripped either side of his face and lifted his head to meet your gaze again. 
“And right now, Spencer, I really want you.” A roll of your hips was enough to have him hissing and grabbing your hips. You started steadily rocking into him, eyes still locked with his. 
“Y/N, please let's be sensible.” 
“I don't want to be sensible, I want to have fun. I want to suck your dick right here, and let you cum in my mouth. I want to scream your name and let everyone know who is giving me pleasure. Can't I do that, Spencer?” 
“No,” he groaned, his eyes screwed shut as you dry humped him, trying to get yourself off on his lap, his.cock rising with each of your quiet moans. 
“Spencer, please. I want your big, hard cock back inside me. Please, please, please. I'll be a good girl, I promise.” 
His eyes shot open in incredulity as he watched you use his body as you saw fit. 
“Good girls don't lose their virginities in alleyways, Y/N. Good girls don't throw themselves at their brothers' coworkers. Good girls listen when they're told no, and don't try to suck cock in public, like little sluts.” He spat each word at you, bit you enjoyed each insult he hurled your way, enjoyed the way his body recoiled as he finally called you a slut. 
He seemed slightly shocked by his anger himself, but you didn't seem to care. It took you only seconds after to push your lips against his again and have your hands on his cock once again, pulling him out of his pants as his hands explored you just as eagerly. 
“Yeah, Spencer, your little slut. I'm such a little slut for you, please fuck me.” 
He buried a hand in your hair, tipping your head back so his tongue could probe deeper, his other hand already under your shirt and teasing one nipple. You lifted your hips and sunk down onto his cock, neither of you stopping to think again about your actions as you began to rode him. 
“30 minutes, Y/N, by now we have 24 minutes and 17 seconds. Can you manage that, Y/N?” 
“Yes, sir.” You said, feeling his dick twitch as you rode him. “Oh did you like that? You liked me calling you, sir?” His hips pressed up again, his body answering more honestly than his tongue. 
“What else can I call you? Spencer… sir….daddy?” 
He broke away from his place buried in your neck to push the two of you down to the floor, the new angle had you gasping as a hand covered your mouth stifling any screams you could make before you made them. 
“Be quiet and cum on my cock, Y/N,” he whispered and picked up his pace, one hand gagging you while the other pulled painfully at your nipple, pinching it between two hands and using it to lift your entire chest so your body was arched toward him, letting him go deeper. 
“Yes, Daddy,” you whispered again, against his fingers, tempted to wrap your lips around one and suck it into your mouth. 
“Fuck, just call me Spencer, Y/N.” 
But you couldn't respond, suddenly overcome with the numbness of you orgasm washing over you as you bit back a choked cry. 
“That's it, good job, Y/N. You listen so well, good job.” He rubbed soothing circles into your chest as his hips slowed, working you through your orgasm as he withdrew once again. 
This time though, he didn't try to pull away and leave himself hard, but sat himself up, and lifted you once again too, putting slight pressure at the back of your head until you were on your knees and letting your head fall down, down, down as your lips wrapped around his wet cock. 
You took him in your mouth, and tasted the bitter, salty flavor of your illicit activities, lapping every last bit of your joint pleasure up as he pushed your hair up and down his cock. 
It didn't take long for his hips to press up into your mouth slightly harder than before, his hands holding you steady as he came down your throat. He held your head there for a minute two, as you tried your best to breathe and stay there, taking as much of his cum down your throat as you could. He pulled your head off him and you swallowed the rest, smiling brightly at him as you did so. 
“Thank you for the fun, Spencer,” You said again, grabbing your phone and checking the time. 
Standing up, you pulled your clothes back in place, pulling your skirt down and your panties up, smoothing out the tangles in your hair. 
“Let me go get you that spare shirt, Doctor Reid,” you said, opening the door. “I'm very grateful for your help with my class load, sir.” 
His head fell back into his hands as you closed the door, leaving him to wonder just what the hell he'd got himself in for. 
2K notes · View notes
underthetree845 · 1 month
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chuuya taking his hat off to hide when he kisses his partner 🤭
Hello saturn lovely! Sorry this took me so long to finish TwT I love the prompt, but as you know writer's block hit me kinda hard the second semester of school so over the summer I've been trying to get back into the swing of posting once in a while!
Hope you enjoy <3 thank you for the request! _
Kiss Me Hard Before You Go
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Nakahara Chuuya/Reader (oneshot request)
cws: fem! reader, established relationship, bungou stray dogs s5 spoilers, meursault arc spoilers, fluff, hurt/comfort kinda? there was a little hurt, reuniting, airport reunion, ada dazai, reader cries about 2.5k words summary: Chuuya disappeared on a business trip for three whole days with no explanation- and no one would tell you why. Now he's returned to japan and back in your arms. a/n: This is my last fic for the summer before school starts aaa qwq I'm glad I was able to finish it before the semester starts though! *sigh* am I really incapable of writing something like this without accidentally creating so much plot? Anyways, hope you enjoy! <3 divider credit: (x) (x) ‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹ Chuuya had never considered himself to be a very possessive man; or a possessive boyfriend, for that matter. Protective, sure, but how could anyone expect him not to be? He understood, probably better than most, the risks that came with even so much as associating with a person in his position. It made Chuuya’s stomach churn unpleasantly to even imagine putting you in any sort of danger, so he used his position (along with the power and assets that came with it) to take certain preventative measures. The penthouse you shared was equipped with state of the art security, a technological system truly fit for an executive of the Port Mafia. Additionally, in case you ever needed to travel long distances without him, Chuuya often kept a trusted chauffeur on call. This individual also happened to be a professionally trained underground bodyguard of his personal selection. Even so, Chuuya knew you had a good head on your shoulders. He trusted that you would try to keep yourself out of trouble, or call for him at the first sign of it. It didn’t matter if he was on the road, halfway through a private meeting, or in the middle of pummeling down an enemy organization. Chuuya had always been a man with his priorities set straight. Not even Mori’s notifications were set to come through on silent mode. Coming home to you at the end of the day, allowing you to soothe away the crease between his brows, your voice uttering sweet nothings against the shell of his ear. You had become his lifeline, irreversibly carved your name into every cell of his body. He’d do anything to erase your pain, and it was making his heart break more than anything to know that he was the cause of the salty tears now streaming over your lash line. Chuuya did his best to hold back an ‘oof’ when you threw your frame into his own, burying your sobs in the crook of his neck. He was immediately overwhelmed with the scent of your perfume, the familiar feeling of your body against his own, the softness of the sweater you wore, and the glimmer that never seemed to escape your eyes. The red colored contacts from earlier had given Chuuya one hell of a headache, which only added to the pressure from taking off and being stuck in one of the mafia’s smallest private jets with the most insufferable jackass he’d ever met and some hair dye obsessed casino manager passed out on one of the couches. Chuuya’s gloved fingers almost trembled as they gripped the fabric of your shirt. He lifted a hand to cradle the back of your head while the other remained planted firmly on your lower back.
Sakaguchi Ango, if Chuuya remembered correctly, stood a few yards away. He simply observed the situation from afar, as if he dared not insert himself into the scene. A government agent whom Dazai used to maintain his connection with the outside world. Ango stood with one hand folded neatly over the other behind his back, the faint ghost of a smile residing behind his glasses as he watched Dazai reunite with his fellow agency members. The brunette walked on a crutch, but the uncharacteristically tired look in his eyes brightened ever so slightly when he was swarmed by his coworkers. Chuuya continued to hold you close, patiently waiting for your sobs to die down enough for you to be able to speak coherently. He loosened his grip slightly, removing one of his leather gloves behind your back and bringing that same hand up to cup your face. A whisper of your name left his lips, and your teary eyes finally refocused to meet the warmth of his own. “Chuuya… how could you just leave?” your voice cracked; he could see the hurt in your eyes. Guilt crept into his chest, eyebrows knitting together as you subconsciously leaned into his palm. This was exactly the sort of thing Chuuya promised himself he’d never do. You were the absolute number one priority in his life. There was no doubt in his mind; he didn’t want there to be any doubt in yours either. “I know, Doll, ‘m sorry, it was never my intention…” he muttered, allowing you to rest your hands on his chest. “I know that’s a shit excuse, but I’ll make it up to you, I swear.” A beat of silence passed, the indistinct chatter of the agency fell on deaf ears as you zoned in on the man in front of you. His breath, the way his eyes searched your expression, how you could once again feel the warmth of his skin against your own. “You’re not hurt, are you?” your voice was pricked with concern, hands gentle as you cupped his jaw and turned his head from side to side. Chuuya let out a breath, fondness flickering in his irises at your concern. “Barely a scratch,” he murmured, and you seemed to accept his answer. “Chuuya,” you started, and his gaze locked onto yours. He voiced your name in response. “I need you to promise me something, please?” “Anything.” 
You bit your lip. Your mind told you it was a selfish request. You understood, probably better than most, how unpredictable your boyfriend’s line of work could be. But you had accepted it as an adequate price to pay for his love when the two of you started seeing each other, even more so when you moved in together. He was yours, you believed it with every fiber of your being. Chuuya had told enough stories of his old work partner for you to gather that the two had never exactly been the chummiest of pals. So the fact that they cooperated for this mission must’ve meant that it couldn’t have been a minor dilemma. You understood why Chuuya made the decision he did, and that it was probably just as difficult on him. Albeit, that didn’t make your feelings any less real. Your heart reminded you of the unconditional love and comfort that Chuuya always offered you. You knew he’d never intentionally hurt your feelings, especially not without talking it out and making up for it in some way afterward. “Doll…?” he barely breathed, giving you all the space you needed to voice what was on your mind. You took a deep breath. “Don’t… please don’t scare me like that again,” your voice wavered as you spoke, “Everything on the news is scary. And every time I watch it all I can think about is the fact that you’re out there.” You took a moment to glance at the group of Armed Detective Agency members on the airport runway to your left. One of the so-called terrorists you heard about on the news stood amongst the group about ten feet away from where you watched. The world was confusing, and scary, but there was a certain security in your heart that told you as long as you had Chuuya by your side, everything would be okay. “First you’re leaving before sunrise and staying out late on special missions, and I get it, I really do…” you felt a lump beginning to form in your throat, threatening to make you choke over your words, “but then you just leave on a business trip to Europe without so much as a ‘goodbye, I’ll be home soon’? And I have to find out from a call from your boss? I didn’t- I still don’t understand what’s happening. Do you know how scared I was? That I might not ever see you again?” Chuuya’s thumb swiped away the teardrop that ran down your cheek, his eyes trailing over your expression. “You’re right, it’s not fair… I don’t think I could ever apologize enough,” he began, his hold on you tightening slightly, “All that I can ask is for you to understand. I can explain everything to you when we get home. And I promise, I’ll do my best to not leave you in the dark so suddenly. It was an urgent mission, but it must have been scary. You’ll never have to feel like that again, not if I can help it.” Chuuya’s face softened, the corners of your lips curving up slightly at his sincerity as he cupped your cheek. “Shit… you deserve so much better.” You stood there for a moment, just breathing. Soaking in each other’s presence as your heartbeat gradually fell back to its usual pace.
“My my, Slug, is this the lovely lady you were so eager to get back to?” a voice chimed from your left, and you turned your head to face the man at the same time Chuuya snapped his head in that direction. Your boyfriend clicked his teeth, pressing your body closer to his own. “What’s it to you, huh, Dazai?” Chuuya was clearly trying to suppress his irritation. He was doing especially well, considering the fact that he had been holed up next to Dazai on an airplane for the past fourteen hours. “I’m just trying to acquaint myself,” the man went on, a grin playing on his lips despite Chuuya’s glare, “As a responsible owner, I should at least make sure my dog is in good hands.” You tilted your head slightly, and Chuuya sucked in a breath. “You’re treading on some pretty thin ice, Mackerel,” he growled through gritted teeth, “Watch what you say around my girl.” The taller man only took a step forward, his eyes glittering in amusement, a sharp contrast to the hollowed out, almost dead look he carried earlier. “Oh? Holding back your more vulgar language around the lady?” Dazai hummed with mild intrigue, “Perhaps my dog is being well taken care of.” You simply stood and watched with intrigue, the interaction clearly more complex than distinguishable at first glance. Despite their constant verbal jabs and ostentatious insults toward each other, there was a sense of familiarity between the two that was almost palpable to you. They bounced off each other, knowing exactly which buttons to press and which ones to avoid. It was probably a welcome change of tone in contrast to what they had just been through. Your gaze flickered between the two once more, and you couldn’t help but notice how the tension in Chuuya’s shoulders had been released. “Dazai-san?” your voice was level, and both of the men fell silent to give you their attention. You looked at your beloved, then to his ex-partner, then Chuuya, then Dazai again. Mirth swam in your eyes. “I want to thank you for making sure Chuuya was able to return home safely today. Truly, I cannot thank you enough.” You gave a slight bow of your head, and Chuuya looked like he wanted to protest. For once, Dazai didn’t immediately produce a response; he fell silent at your sentiment. This time, a gentler smile curved onto his lips. “Please spare me, Miss,” Dazai began, “Truth be told, I don’t believe I could have made it out without Chuuya’s help either.” The redhead raised his eyebrows. "I'm passing him into your capable hands now. I trust you’ll take good care of him?” Dazai seemed satisfied with the chuckle that slipped from your throat. “You have nothing to worry about,” you replied, “And I trust that your detective agency will treat you well?” “They always have.” Chuuya let out a breath, sharing a look with his partner before turning to face a black passenger vehicle that had pulled up a short distance away. Tinted windows that prevented anyone outside from peeking in; glass, body, and tires that were all bulletproof. It was one of the mafia’s. 
“C’mon Dollface, we should get going. Don’t wanna be here when the press shows up, and the boss is probably dying for me to give him a call,” Chuuya nodded his head in the direction of the car; you brought your hand up to give a small wave to Dazai and the handful of agency members further away who glanced in your direction. You let out a sigh you didn’t know you were holding in, allowing your head to rest on Chuuya’s shoulder as you made your way to the car. You felt like you could finally breathe properly again. The door unlocked with a quiet click. Chuuya swung open the door of the vehicle with his non gloved hand and stepped aside to allow you to enter first. “...Chuu?” you started quietly, taking a step closer to where he stood. “Hm?” he raised an eyebrow. You placed your hands loosely on the back of his neck, fingers intertwined; Chuuya responded by resting his hands on your hips, listening intently.  You could have held more of a grudge. He disappeared overnight without a word, and no one would tell you why. You’d been on edge for three days straight. Hardly even sleeping through the night as you kept up with the news almost obsessively, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. To be able to hold Chuuya close again so easily felt almost surreal. A soft smile creeped into your expression, the corners of your eyes crinkling as you tilted your head to the side. Chuuya’s breath stilled. “I’m just…” you paused for a moment, your voice pouring with sincerity, “I’m really glad you’re back, and that you’re safe.” Chuuya paused for another moment, studying you carefully as an equally tender look came to his face. He glanced to the side for a moment, and let out a disgruntled huff upon discovering that Dazai’s head was still tilted in your direction; he kept a curious eye on the situation from several meters away. Your boyfriend pursed his lips for a moment before snaking one of his hands further around your waist. He plucked his pork pie hat off the crown of his head, and before you had the chance to realize what was going on, you were already being gracefully tilted backwards, forcing your hands to grip onto the lapel of Chuuya’s jacket for support. Everything seemed to still the moment he slotted his lips into yours, holding his hat up to act as a shield from certain prying eyes. You didn’t hesitate to pull him in closer, your lashes fluttering shut as you savored what you felt like you had been missing for an eternity. Chuuya’s eyes were shut in concentration, his heart thrumming with delight at the familiar sensation of your lips molded against his own. Chuuya didn’t pull away until you were both light-headed from the lack of air. Cheeks flooded with warmth, looking at each other as if you were the only two people in the entire world. “I missed you so fucking much, you know that?” Chuuya’s voice was low as he brushed his thumb over your cheek. The two of you stood straight, lingering in each other’s embrace for a moment longer. Chuuya lightly tossed his hat inside the car and once more gestured with his arm out for you to enter first. The satisfied smile on his lips morphed into one of slight perplexion when you didn’t show a reaction, raising your fingertips to brush over your lips. “Chuuya?” you questioned, and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He replied with your name, all the more puzzled when you let out an incredulous chuckle. “Since when are your teeth so sharp?” 
‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹ a/n: Thank you so much for reading! Have a day/night/morning/evening as lovely as yourself. tagging: @judasgot-it (I noticed that I wrote down that I agreed to tag you for chuuya fics but I can't seem to remember why?? TwT please tell me if this is incorrect! Thank you <3)
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reilemon · 2 months
Text
🍒My Everything🍒
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♡︎ synopsis: You didn't plan on celebrating your birthday during undercover mission, but Xavier still wanted to surprise you. A little twist on the 21 Days memory.
♡︎ pairing: Xavier x fem!reader
。°⚠︎°。MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)。°⚠︎°。
♡︎ cw: birthday sex, fingering, oral (both male and female receiving), creampie, multiple orgasms
♡︎ word count: 3.4k
♡︎ a/n: I call myself Zayne girlie yet here I am posting my fourth Xavier fic. Anyways, Sylus is next.
♡︎ requested by @sadfragilegirl ♡︎ special thanks to my beta reader ♡︎@its-de♡︎ for reading and helping me with this! divider by @cafekitsune
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The undercover mission with Xavier has been going smoothly so far. You two put up a convincing act of a young couple in love in front of others, and actually got along well behind closed doors. You didn't want to tell him this, but you were genuinely surprised at how good of a homemaker he is. When you heard about the assignment, you were excited that it's him who's going to be living with you, but at the same time anxious. Xavier is a reliable work partner, but what would he be like as a roommate? So far, you had no complaints and actually were looking forward to coming home back to the apartment you and Xavier temporarily lived in for around three weeks.
As you mindlessly stroll around a grocery store, you reminisce about one more cause of anxiety about the mission - your crush on your coworker and neighbor. You're not sure when it started, but it doesn't matter because you made it your own mission to bury those feelings and hope they disintegrate. For a while you considered acting on it and taking the first step, but then you realized you had a lot to lose if it doesn't work out. And you tried to convince yourself that it was just a small crush, because who wouldn't want someone hot and reliable? Right?
A weary sigh leaves your lips and you turn a corner - Party Supplies. Oh. Right, it's your birthday today. You didn't say anything to Xavier because you didn't want to make him feel obligated to buy you a gift or make something today. You two are on a mission after all, and you can get to celebrate it later when it's over.
You pass the party supplies aisle and head towards the check out. You wonder what kind of concoction Xavier cooked today.
₊♡₊˚ 🍒・₊✧
Even though you settled on not celebrating your birthday today, you still wanted to treat Xavier, so you bought a cherry pie from a pastry shop that always smells so good and makes your mouth water every time on the way back from 'work'.
As you fiddle with your keys at the doorstep, you catch a whiff of something burning. Probably from the inside. Another sigh leaves your lips. Xavier burnt something again, didn't he?
Light gray smoke greets you as soon as you open the door, your eyes taking a moment to adjust and then you see Xavier frantically fanning a kitchen towel over the counter.
You can clearly see the panic in Xavier's eyes over the slowly dissipating smoke when he notices you coming in. "Ah - ! Welcome home!"
You can't help but laugh a little at the scene, but also be confused a little at his behavior. He's usually calm even when he causes a kitchen fire. "So what are we having for dinner?" You tease.
Xavier's shoulders slump in defeat and puts away the kitchen towel. He turns to you and finally looks at you properly, with a defeated smile "A neighbor made you one of your favorite dishes." He nudges his head towards the dining table. Your gaze follows his and you gasp at how beautifully the table was set, with the meal and your favorite flowers waiting for you.
"Xavier, what - "
"Oh, what's this?"
He approached you to take the bag with the groceries while your attention was on the table.
"Oh, I got us a cherry pie."
He only nods and goes back to the kitchen to unload everything.
You sneak towards the cremated object, "So, if we already had dinner, what was this supposed to be?"
"Uh, nothing. I was just experimenting." Xavier absentmindedly answers as he finishes putting everything away.
After he refuses your offer to help with airing out the apartment, you then excuse yourself to the bathroom to take a quick shower and change into more comfortable clothes.
When you exit the bathroom, the smell of what you assume to be burnt dessert is almost completely gone, and now you can see everything properly. You walk back into the dining area and your eyes land on Xavier waiting for you by the table. You gasp in delight when you see what's in his hands - a cute handmade paper crown in your favorite colors.
"Happy birthday." Xavier says softly and steps towards you, placing the crown on your head. It sits so perfectly that you think he might've taken your measurements.
You look up at him, still in disbelief "How did you - "
"Know when it's your birthday? I told you I looked at your profile." He chuckles at the silly question and turns to pull back your chair, offering you to take a seat.
While eating, you found out that what he burnt was supposed to be a birthday cake he thought you would like, but while it was baking he used that time to set the table and make the crown. He didn't want to make it earlier in case you found it. And then the neighbor came to drop off the meal and of course had to linger and chat and also invite herself over tomorrow.
"So, the groceries I bought today - "
"I didn't need any of that, I just wanted to buy myself more time."
You got used to Xavier's weird grocery shopping lists, that you didn't even question why you were buying ketchup, pesto sauce or sausages. You were so touched by the amount of effort and thoughtfulness he put into your birthday dinner; you were smiling the whole time. That crush is not going away anytime soon.
But you can tell that Xavier was almost like a deflated balloon, hesitantly answering your questions as you put two and two together.
You reach across the table, placing your hand over his. "I love everything you've done today." You reassure him in a comforting voice, "And it kinda worked out that the cake got burned, because then the pie would go to waste."
He nods, and you hope you made him feel a little better. Then, he takes your hand and places a soft peck on top of it, and you could feel your cheeks burning instantly. You hope he doesn't notice it.
He does.
After dinner, Xavier shoos you away from the kitchen, not letting you do any of the house chores on your day. So you go to the living room to unwind and wait for him to join you.
₊♡₊˚ 🍒・₊✧
"Sorry, I had to take a shower." Xavier finally appears and takes a seat next to you on the sofa. He's wearing sweats (those gray sweatpants!!) and a loose tshirt, his hair still a little damp from washing away the smoke.
"It's okay, I entertained myself." You throw the other half of your blanket over his lap.
"Did you pick out a movie?"
You nod and start playing the movie on the tv. Since you can't go out together as much thanks to the mission, you found ways to pass the time inside your 'new home'. One of them is watching old movies Xavier used to watch years ago.
And about five minutes into the movie, you feel fluffy gray hair tickling you cheek and nose as his head softly drops on your shoulder. You turn your head and of course, Xavier is already dozing off. You smile softly at him - it's only fair to let him rest, so you try to slowly get up and let him lie down on the soft pillows.
With eyes still closed, he lets you snuggle him into the pillows and the blanket, but then his lips form a playful smirk and in one swift motion, he pulls you under the blanket with him, into his arms.
"You can watch the movie like this, right?" He asks as sleepiness overtakes him again, with the crown, barely on your head, poking his cheek.
Your body is stiff against his, and your voice doesn't help hiding how flustered you are "Um, you don't want to go to your room to take a nap?"
"Nope." He mumbles before dozing off.
You adjust to make yourself more comfortable, resting your head on his chest. The movie is rolling, but it doesn't have your attention. All you can focus on is how relaxing Xavier's presence is, with his weird slow heartbeat and soft breathing. His one hand is holding you close by the waist, while the other one found its way on top of yours that's resting on his chest.
All the nervousness about being so close to him slowly melts away, and you drift off to sleep.
₊♡₊˚ 🍒・₊✧
When your eyes flutter open, Xavier's hand is in full focus as he tenderly caresses your cheek. The moonlight is the only source of light in the room now, and you wonder how long you slept. You prop yourself up a bit to look up at Xavier, but the crown you forgot you still had on slides off over your face, earning an amused laugh from him.
He takes it off for you and sets it on a nearby coffee table. Then he goes back to caressing your cheek.
"Did you sleep well?" He asks.
"Ye - Ow!" Numbness in your arm that was under you makes you grit your teeth and shift on the sofa in search for relief.
"Here." His arms effortlessly move you on top of him, your upper body completely resting on top of his, his legs encasing yours. "Better?" He asks as he grazes soothing circles on the numb arm.
Well you're not sure if it is better because your heart is beating like crazy now that you're on top of him, your faces a breath away. You did cuddle a little before, but you were never this close. So close you're sure he can feel your heartbeat. So you just nod, not trusting your voice.
You two share a moment in silence, gazing at each other’s features, Xavier's fingers still not leaving your face.
"It's a pity your birthday was during an undercover mission. I'll make it up to you when we get back."
You shake your head "This is one of my favorite birthdays actually." He raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to elaborate and hoping you're not just humoring him. "I mean, I had a lovely home and a handsome husband waiting for me. He got me beautiful flowers and made sure I had my favorite meal."
A tone of uncertainty covers your voice "Who should I thank for that?"
When met with a puzzled look you elaborate "Should I thank you as my fake husband playing his role, or as my coworker -"
The fingers on your cheek cover your lips, cutting you off. "Just thank me, Xavier." The digits gingerly graze your bottom lip.
You speak softly “Thank you, Xavier.” Butterflies dance in your belly as you mull over the next question. "And -" You swallow thickly before continuing "What am I to you, Xavier?"
He doesn't say anything, instead he timidly pulls you closer by the back of your head, closing what little distance you had between your faces, his soft lips giving yours a chaste kiss. And when you don't pull away, your hand cupping his cheek, he pulls into a deep, hungry kiss, your bodies pressed hard, feeling every twitch of the muscle and pulse of your veins under your skin - and it's impossible to ignore growing bulge pressing your lower belly.
Xavier curses under his breath "Sorry, I - !" his words get lost in his throat when your hand grazes over his length over the clothes, your lips latching back onto his.
He groans and bites your bottom lip when you give it a few more strokes, feeling out his shape.
Fuck, it's thick.
Growing impatient, you tug at the waistband of the sinful gray sweats, and Xavier lifts his hips and pulls them down just enough to free his rock hard dick. You break away from the kiss to not so subtly look down and even under the low lights you can clearly see it. The sight of it makes you unconsciously rub your thighs and your mouth water.
You might've stared a little too long because a chuckle from the man under you pulls you out from your trance. But he doesn't tease you, maybe because it's your birthday, instead he pulls you back into another breathtaking kiss, while your hand wraps around his length, slowly stroking it.
But you need more - and in the next moment you're sliding down, adjusting yourself between his legs.
A few strokes to the base of his cock and your tongue on the leaking tip elicits a moan from Xavier's lips, and you discover that it's your new favorite sound. So you do what you need to do to hear more of it. Your swirl your tongue around the tip, tasting precum and the tender skin, before you take in more of his length, and greedily you take more and more before your nose is pressed on his pelvis, short hairs of his happy trail tickling you. You don't care how your jaw is barely holding on around his girth, his moans is what keeps you going and panties already drenched. All restrain from Xavier dissipates with every lick of your tongue and clenching of your throat around the tip.
"Fuck, you're doing so good."
His hips start moving faster than your rhythm, his hand on your head holding you in place. Under the hand that's holding you for balance, you can feel his thigh muscles tremble, and you can feel his cock throb in your mouth.
"I'm gonna cum, princess." He gives you the warning, and loosens his grip on your head, but you take it all in, needing to taste him. And in few shallow thrusts, you're tasting and swallowing his cum, not letting a drop go to waste.
You barely catch your breath before Xavier lifts you up and locks his lips with yours, tongue licking your lips and tongue, tasting himself. Then he switches the positions with you, and now you're on your back, stripped of your pants and underwear, Xavier's lips locked with yours and his middle finger sliding between your wet folds. You moan into the kiss as the finger slides into your entrance, quickly followed by a second one. Your hips start moving to meet the pace, the digits hitting all the right spots and your release already building up. Then his thumb presses your clit that was begging for attention, eliciting a yelp from you making Xavier smile against your lips before continuing kissing you. In a few more pumps of his fingers against your sweet spot, you're a panting mess as you cum around them.
When you come down from your high, he brings up those soaked fingers to his lips and licks them, the sight making you blush. His dick twitches in his underwear as he gets a taste of your essence. He needs more.
Before you can even protest about how you're wet enough, he pushes your legs further up against your torso, his face already between them, his breath fanning against your pussy spreading goosebumps all over your skin. The only thing that stopped him from latching onto your pretty pussy is his need to take in the sight of it for the first time.
You cover your face with your hands, too self-conscious about the close up he's getting, even if there's no lights in here. "Xavier..." You whine and move your hips as much as you can under his grasp.
He chuckles at your cute reaction and whispers how perfect you are, then he finally presses his tongue flat against your glistening folds, and your embarrassment melts away. One hand moves from the back of your thigh under your shirt, fondling your breast and playing with your hard nipple until you're squirming from over-sensitivity and he moves to the other one. His lips latch onto your sensitive nub, swirling his tongue around it, sucking and lapping at it, while his other hand finds its way back into your entrance, two fingers easily slipping in and finding the spots that make you moan and buck your hips.
"Just like that - " You breathe, raking your fingers through his hair and holding onto it, while your other hand grabs onto the arm rest behind you, anchoring yourself as Xavier's tongue and fingers stimulate you at just the right pace and you cry out when another orgasm courses through your body.
Xavier soothingly massages your breast and peppers your inner thighs with kisses as you catch your breath.
You hear him ask against your plush thigh "One more?"
Your eyes open and meet his half lidded gaze. You shake your head and grab his wrist "Just fuck me, please."
He was already on edge of another orgasm from just eating you out, and your breathy plea made him so dangerously closer. He positions himself on top of you and pulling down his underwear that now has a big wet spot from his leaking tip. You watch as he positions his cock against your pussy until you hear his soft voice
"Look me in the eyes, honey."
And you lock your gaze with his, eyes barely staying open as the swollen tip slides inside. With languid thrusts, his cock is buried to the hilt and now Xavier needs to anchor himself - he rests on his elbow, burying his face in the crook of your neck, licking and nipping sensitive skin. His other hand finds yours and holds it tight, interlocking fingers and resting it next to your head.
His thrust are deep and hard, his pelvis grazing your clit, making your cunt throb and squeeze around him, making his movements falter. With a strained voice he breathes against your neck "Gonna cum on my cock?"
You nod as you clench around him more when you hear his voice and see his face as he comes up to lock eyes with you and you grab him by the back of his neck, pulling him into a sloppy open mouthed kiss.
You squeeze his hand and lock your legs around his hips as they roll at the right angle.
"I'm so close, honey." He rasps.
And you are seconds away from your third orgasm, your pussy already spasming. "Need you - haah - inside -!"
You open your mouth in a silent cry his dick throbs in your already pulsing creaming cunt, filling it with hot cum. The two of you moan and grunt, erratically moving your hips, riding out each other's high.
With shaky breaths, you slowly calm down and open your eyes.
The two of you can't help but laugh a little when you see each other's blissed out faces. Xavier gives the hand he's still holding a kiss. Your other hand presses on his back to press you completely against him, needing to feel his whole weight on you.
"I'm not crushing you?" he asks as his face is nuzzled against your neck.
You gently stroke his now messy hair. "No let's stay like this for a while."
₊♡₊˚ 🍒・₊✧
After cleaning up the mess on the sofa and showering, you're back in the dining room with the cherry pie on the table. Xavier put the candles on it and the princess crown back on your head. You're about to sit on Xavier's lap and then light the candles but then you remember something.
"Shoot, I almost forgot!"
Confused, Xavier watches you as you hurry out in the dining room. Your phone and the lighter are here, so he can't guess what you would need.
You come back with a giddy smile on your face as you hold something behind your back.
"Something for me?" he asks, amused at your expression.
"Yes, but it doesn't look that good because I had to make it quickly." You then reveal a handmade prince crown.
Xavier's eyes widen "When did you -?"
"I guess you forgot to clean up the living room after making mine, so I just scrambled something while you were showering."
Left speechless at your sweet gesture, his eyes switch between gazing at you and the crown.
You feel a little embarrassed at your craftsmanship because it looks poorly made compared to the one he made for you. "Okay, you looked at it enough. I'll make you a better one later."
He chuckles as you place it on his head and sit on his lap. He kisses your hand and then your lips "Thank you, I love it."
After lighting the candles, you close your eyes and make a wish.
517 notes · View notes
reidingandwriting · 5 months
Text
domestic > keigo takami/hawks (mha)
Word Count: 3.6k
Ship: Keigo/Hawks x Reader
Warnings: Corrupt hero commission (we hate the hero commission on this blog), keigo overworks himself, keigo & reader fight, miscommunication, some cursing, keigo’s a little shit (he has his reasons okay), mentions of a rescue mission and the aftermath, hurt/comfort
A/N: So sorry this fic is so delayed 😭 Have been going Through It lately but I’ve got a few fics queued up to make up for my absence ❤️ This is my favorite Keigo fic so far
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“pro hero hawks is the first on the scene!”
“pro hero hawks took down the villain that’s injured dozens, including some pro heroes!”
“another takedown by pro hero hawks.”
“hawks is finally on the scene, this should be over soon.”
-
keigo wasn’t answering his phone. which was expected for the first night. he had just come home from a week long mission and on his flight home, another issue came up that he had to answer to. he didn’t get home until midnight, having refused any other hero’s offer to relieve him once his shift had technically ended, until best jeanist all but escorted him off the scene. you had hoped keigo had been resting when you walked into your office the next morning, until you looked at the news and saw he was already back out on patrols.
when you walked into keigo’s office, you expected to see a mountain of paperwork on his desk. you were fully prepared to work all day to catch him up, hoping to surprise him by finishing all his work for him. you were the one surprised when you saw only one paper on his desk, a note for you.
‘gonna be working late tonight, don’t wait up for me’
you scowled as you read the note, even if you had to fight the urge to melt when you saw the little bird doodle keigo had signed the note with. you once again called keigo, this time his work number, and you resisted the urge to throw your phone at the wall when your call once again went unanswered. you pulled up your text conversation with keigo and began to type.
‘you’re going home tonight. i will be outside at eight and you will let me in. i am not kidding when i tell you i’ll wait all night. please, just let me know you’re okay.’
you knew the text would go unanswered, but you hoped. you hoped that he would read it, at the least. that he would talk to you. your phone buzzed and you quickly picked it up, and you sighed when it was just another text from rumi.
‘i’ve seen him pass by once or twice, but he doesn’t stop. i’ve got a few others looking out for him, i’ll let you know if i hear anything’
you set your phone down with a sigh as you sat back in the office chair. this was going to be a long night.
you texted keigo a warning before you entered his apartment. you had been given a key by keigo to use in case of emergencies, and your chatty birdbrain suddenly ghosting you is an emergency in your eyes. it was two AM when you entered, and you felt your eyes begin to sting when you realized keigo wasn’t home. a quick search on the hero network showed that he was last seen a little after ten, and none of your own security alerts had gone off at your apartment. he was at his agency, avoiding you. it stung, the avoidance settling heavy in your chest, weighing you down as if there was a physical weight on your body.
you texted a quick update to rumi before you left keigo’s, and you made the walk back to your own apartment. keigo would definitely have lectured you any other time if he knew you walked home alone, and a selfish part of you hoped he’d find out. you’d take the scolding if it meant he would talk to you.
you flinched as you heard a voice speak from beside you.
“surprised he let you walk home alone at this hour,” you relaxed once you recognized the drawl of eraserhead’s voice. “your guard bird working tonight?”
“you’re going to sneak up on me at the wrong time one day and you’re going to get your shit rocked,” you replied, no real heat to your words.
“i’ll take my chances.” a hint of a smirk graced his face before it relaxed into his usual stoic expression.
“but no, he’s not working tonight.” you paused. “not patrolling at least. he is working hard at avoiding me, though.” while you and eraserhead, aizawa, had only met a few times, you had established a friendly relationship with the underground hero. you had also developed a friendship with present mic, which seemed to influence eraserhead’s opinion of you. odd.
“that’s… different.” eraserhead says after a moment. “i’ll keep an eye out for him, and i’ll have hiz- present mic look out for him as well.”
the two of you continued to talk as he escorted you to your apartment. minutes later, you opened the door to your apartment and let the door shut with a soft click, and you barely made it to the couch before you fell asleep.
-
“ooh, rough night?” one of the tech interns, kazuki, teases as he watches you walk in.
“hilarious.” you scowled. you knew you looked tired; you woke up frequently throughout the night, unable to sleep for more than half an hour at a time. you gave up on sleep around five thirty this morning, and you clutched to the thermos of coffee in your hands like it was the only thing keeping you alive. “didn’t really sleep much last night.”
“hawks working you too hard? i saw him walking around a few minutes ago. looks like he was headed to his office,” your heart stopped at those words. was he actually here?
“thank you, kazuki!” you called as you sprinted for the elevator, reminding yourself to send kazuki a proper thank you later. when you burst into keigo’s office, you jumped back as a sharpened red feather flew at you, stopping mere centimeters away from your neck.
“shit, you scared me.” keigo smiled when he recognized you, and the sight of it filled you with anger. “oh, sorry. let me just.” keigo’s feather returned to its natural state and you swatted it away as it went to caress your cheek, not in the mood for his usually sweet antics. “songbird? you okay?”
and you couldn’t help but laugh. full body, doubled over laughs. keigo tilted his head, confusion flashing across his face as you continued to laugh. your name left keigo’s lips, and you recognized the slight movements he was making. he was twitchy, like he wanted to move but he couldn’t decide which move was the best. you could practically hear the wheels in his head turning and you looked up at the ceiling as you felt the familiar sting of unshed tears in your eyes.
“you son of a bitch,” you whispered. you looked at him and his form became blurry, the tears now sliding down your cheeks. “you, you have me worried for days. you ignored my calls and texts, i even had other heroes looking out for you!” you started to walk towards him and you stopped just out of his reach. “you went to the point of staying here to avoid seeing me. why?” you finally met his gaze and golden eyes were filled with an emotion you didn’t recognize. his gaze was cold, distant. yet still, he kept the smile on his face, the smile he plastered on for annoying news reporters.
“i’ve been busy.”
“you’re running yourself ragged! you’re going to get hurt or cause someone else to get hurt because you’re working yourself to death.” you reached out and jabbed him in the chest.
“you don’t understand. you never will, so why are you even trying to? i can’t answer every call and text from my assistant.”
“that’s all i am to you? your assistant?” you asked. you were met with silence and you felt your heart begin to break. “look me in the eyes and tell me that’s all i am to you. and i promise, from now on, that’s all you’ll get from me.”
“what else would you be?”
wordlessly, you dug your key ring from your jacket pocket. you pulled off the key that belonged to keigo’s, to hawks’s, apartment and you set it down on his desk.
“noted. since you’ve clearly got a handle on things, i think i’ll be taking the next two days off for some personal days. i’ll be back on monday, hawks.” the name felt foreign on your lips and his wings twitched in response. you wordlessly spun on your heel and slammed hawks’s office door shut behind you. you could feel the stares from everyone in kei- hawks’s agency watching you, and you briefly shook your head when you saw kazuki before rushing out of the building, straight into the rain that had suddenly started to downpour. because of course it did.
as you walked in the rain to the bus stop, you ignored the frequent buzzing that came from your pocket.
“what else would you be?” echoed through your head, and you couldn’t believe that came from kei- his lips. what happened during his last mission? you shook your head to clear your thoughts.
“just an assistant,” you muttered under your breath. “what the hell, birdie?”
-
it was the middle of the night and you were sitting on your couch, eating from a carton of ice cream as you flipped through the channels on TV. you had finished your second movie of the night when you stumbled across the news. you paused when you saw hawks’s name flash across the bottom of the screen and you wanted to change the channel. but you couldn’t.
“eight hours later, the search and rescue has been completed. over 200 victims were rescued from the destruction thanks to the effort of our number two hero. thank you to pro hero hawks for being the first hero to respond, and the last to leave the tragic scene of the collapsed apartment complex.”
the reporter continued to talk about the injuries and the casualties, and you scanned the screen for him, not seeing a glimpse of red anywhere, save for some discarded feathers on the ground. you pulled out your phone immediately and searched online for something, anything about your- kei- hawks. your messages were full of texts from rumi and kazuki. a few from present mic, even a text from best jeanist’s assistant with a message from the pro.
suddenly, there was a knock on the door and you jumped off the couch. you glanced at the time, a little after midnight. you had hopes for who it was. you also didn’t know what you’d do if it was him. you slowly walked to the front door, willing your heart rate to calm down, and you reached forward to open the door.
you gasped at the sight in front of you, your phone clattering to the floor but you paid it no attention. hawks stood at your door, covered in dirt and dust and… blood? his jacket was gone, pants torn and ripped to barely there shreds of fabric. his flight goggles and headphones were gone, hair caked in dirt and sweat and he looked like he was seconds from falling over. he looked small without his massive wings behind him, most of the feathers left at the scene.
“‘m sorry. i tried, tried to go home. you were closer and,” hawks gestured to himself. “kind of grounded. i’m sorry, i can go.” he swayed a bit. you dove forward as he stumbled, and you held him up as he leaned into you. you kicked the door shut and you repositioned yourself to better support the hero as you walked towards your bathroom. “what are you doin’?” his voice was hoarse, and you made note to grab him water, as well as a million other things once you got him settled.
“first, im gonna clean you up. get some water for you, heat up some leftovers, and get you in clean clothes before i put you in bed.”
“what? no- i. i was horrible. you can’t… you can’t be nice to me. not after everything i said.” hawks said and you shushed him.
“shh, you’re going to wreck your voice more. we’ll talk once you’re taken care of.” you walked into the bathroom and made quick work of setting up a shower. you started to step away to grab towels and you felt a hand grab your arm.
“don’t leave me. please,” he rasped and you turned to face him, your heart aching at the sight in front of you. your keigo.
“not going anywhere. just grabbing towels, yeah?” you walked with him to the hallway, and you grabbed your fluffiest towels. you then grabbed a caddy full of keigo’s favorite toiletries. his shampoo, conditioner, body wash, and oil for his wings. he was missing a lot of feathers, but you’d take care of what was left. he was hurt, your birdie was hurt. it was your turn to be the hero, to make sure he was okay.
when you returned to the bathroom a minute later, keigo’s tired eyes lit up at your return.
“let’s get you in the shower, yeah?“ you set the towels down, put his supplies in the shower, and turned on the shower to his preferred temperature. you then walked to him and placed a gentle hand on his shirt. you glanced up at him and when he nodded, you gently began to peel his uniform off him. you quickly scanned him as you removed more articles of clothing, taking note of any new injuries and were relieved to see relatively little. once keigo had been stripped, you stepped into the shower with him, ignoring the fact you still had your t-shirt and sleep shorts on. your only focus was keigo right now, and you guided him under the shower head.
keigo’s exhaustion had seemed to hit as he leaned against you, and you supported him as you let the water get the top layer of grime off him. “there we go,” you soothed as you shifted, reaching for his shampoo. “there’s my birdie,” a weak chirp left him and you smiled sympathetically. “think you can sit so i can wash your hair?”
wordlessly, keigo moved to kneel down and once he settled, you began to scrub his hair. your hands worked in his hair until they ached, getting everything from the collapsed building from his hair before you added the shampoo. you took your time sudsing up his hair, and you smiled when you brushed some baby feathers in his hairline that caused keigo to coo quietly. keigo pressed a kiss to your stomach as you worked and leaned into your touch, much like a cat being petted. you helped him stand back up once you were ready to wash his body, and keigo practically laid against the wall of the shower as you worked to clean him off efficiently but quickly.
what felt like ages later, you turned the shower off and wrapped keigo up in a towel. you used the other towel to pat your own clothes dry quickly before you started to towel dry his hair.
“why are you… being so nice to me?” keigo asked and you frowned.
“i’m always going to care about you, pretty bird. you were a dick earlier,” you admitted. “but like it or not, you’ve wormed your way into my heart. you deserve to be taken care of, kei. we both know you don’t do it enough for yourself.” you moved to stand behind keigo and you looked at him in the mirror. “is it okay if i touch them?” you glanced at his baby wings and back at him. you held the oil in your hand, letting him see what your intentions were and you panicked when you saw his eyes fill with tears.
-
keigo couldn’t believe it. he had been horrible to you. he had tried to be horrible, he had never planned to come back to you this way. but he did and you? you dumbfounded him with how you treated him. as if you had just had a little spat over him breaking your heart. he could feel your heartbeat change during the conversation you two had in his office, he could practically hear your heart breaking over his words. but when he came to you, bloody and dirty, wings practically gone, and you treated him so tenderly. so… lovingly. when the first tear slid down his cheek, a dam broke. keigo chirped in surprise as you spun him around before he threw himself into your arms. he sobbed as he clung to you, as if you’d vanish into nothingness if he let go.
your arms immediately tightened around him and you used one hand to stroke his wing, the other combed through his hair so gently, sad warbles left his throat. “whatever happened,” you started. “we’ll handle it. me and you, yeah?” keigo tried to respond but couldn’t force any words out, more chirps leaving him as he nodded against your neck. “that’s my songbird.” you held him until his sobs turned into soft cries, and the cries into the occasional sniffle. keigo’s wing twitched as he felt you began to pay more attention to the feathers, and his eyes began to well up with tears again as he realized. you were preening him.
you’ve straightened his feathers out before a handful of times, usually for shoots or press interviews. he’s never had this much attention paid to them before, never in such a caring way at least. his body became lax against you, pleased coos and quiet chirps leaving his throat every now and then.
once you had finished, you led keigo to your room. you walked to the drawer with keigo’s things and he watched as you pulled out clothes for him to sleep in. “gonna change out of my wet clothes real quick, okay?” he nodded and you smiled softly at him before walking to your own side of the dresser. the two of you got dressed in a comfortable silence and you guided him to the living room, where minutes later, you settled onto the couch with dinner. keigo stayed curled into your side and you seemed perfectly content as you stroked his hair.
what felt like an eternity later, keigo was finally able to speak again. “i tried to come home. when i got off that mission. it.. it went horrible and i just wanted you. but i fail- they had told me i failed. i wasn’t as efficient as i should be, one of the villains had managed to escape before i caught him again. if i was a proficient hero, he never would have gotten a chance to get away.” you looked up as keigo spoke, and keigo struggled to maintain eye contact with you. you always seemed to see him, and that was terrifying.
“so i was already beating myself up when they sent me to another disaster, to redeem myself,” he quoted and you scowled at the words. “and i did better, that’s what they told me. and for a minute, i didn’t feel like a failure anymore. i felt worthy of my hero title so i…”
“you stayed busy, worked harder and harder to get rid of that bad feeling.” you finished for him and keigo nodded.
“but no matter what i did, how many patrols i went on, how many hours late i worked, it wasn’t good enough. they said i’m letting personal things get in the way of me being a good hero, that i was a better hero alone.” keigo trailed off and you looked sad, yet angry at the same time.
“they were the reason for our fight.” you said and keigo hummed in response.
“still. i never should have said what i did,” keigo cupped your cheek and you leaned into the touch. “i need you to know. need you to know you’re so much more to me than an assistant. maybe i’m a worse hero for it, but i love you. i love you, so much.” keigo’s voice shook and you scooted closer to him.
“i love you too,” you whispered. you glanced at keigo’s lips then back up at him, golden gaze meeting your own. you leaned in and brushed your lips against his, and keigo let out a soft breath as he kissed you. he had kissed you countless times, but none had ever been this soft. this slow, this.. vulnerable. there was no rush, nothing you were aiming for. just the two of you intertwined, and keigo didn’t break the kiss until he was out of breath, and he smiled at the quiet whine you made. “i think,” you said after a minute. “you need a few days to recover. bed rest, doctor’s orders.”
“you’re a doctor now, hmm?” keigo smiled as he pressed lazy kisses down your jaw and you pulled a blanket over the two of you. “can’t argue with doctor’s orders.”
“bed rest is the first step in treatment. cuddles could speed up the healing process, as well.” you said matter-of-factly as you tangled your legs with his own. keigo closed his eyes as you buried your face into his chest, and as you rubbed his back, keigo’s thoughts became fuzzy.
“careful, will stay here forever.” you nuzzled closer and keigo vaguely remembered your reply before you fell asleep.
“i’d love nothing more.”
646 notes · View notes
sofreddie · 2 months
Text
Not Our First Fan
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Summary: Y/N is a friend, but also a fan. Dosing her with a truth serum should reveal if she's a threat, like other fans in the past. But what's revealed surprised them even more.
Characters: Dean x F!Reader, Sam, Castiel, Rowena
Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Drugging, First POV/Alternating POV, Smut (Protected Sex, Oral Sex), Mentions of Breeding Kink
WC: 12, 393 (Yikes!)
A/N: Ok, so, over the course of a few months, when I had to take my roommate's kid to speech therapy, I sat in the car in the parking lot and just wrote. A little each time until it grew into this massive and awesome fic, and I am so happy to share it! Feedback is appreciated. : )
My Masterlist
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Y/N POV
I sat in stunned silence across the table from Sam and Dean, my eyes flitting between them as I processed what Sam had just said. There was a truth serum in my drink. He had questions and didn’t trust my potential responses.
I hadn’t been with them long, an accident that landed me - a mere fan - in their lives. Although we had become amicable, I never thought they’d use such methods.
“So, what do you want to know?”
I was surprised at my calm tone as I polished off my drink and pushed the glass away. It was already in me; there was no need to be thirsty or sober.
“The truth.”
“Obviously.” I rolled my eyes at Sam before glancing at Dean, who sat silently and watched.
“We have to know; to protect ourselves. Not our first fan.”
I rolled my eyes again. I knew that, too, but it didn’t stop me from feeling offended.
“Is there a question, or…?”
Sam snorted at my attitude. There was no escaping this, so I hoped I could play it like it didn’t scare me or that I had nothing to hide.
“Fine.” He sat up straighter and shook his arms before leaning forward, casually resting his arms on the table as he leveled a heavy gaze at me. “How do you honestly think and feel about me?”
He smirked slightly at my surprised look. I didn’t want to answer, but I could feel the words bubbling up on their own, trying to hold them back, making me sick to my stomach.
“You’re really freakin’ hot. Nice to look at. I would love a night or two to bang you like a screen door in a hurricane. But there’s a lot I don’t like, and I don’t see anything beyond friends because of your issues.”
My eyes widened with every word that fell, and I was mortified when I finished. I couldn’t read Sam, but he seemed equally surprised, smug, and offended. At least it shut him up for a minute. Dean, however, was unchanged and unreadable.
“Well, I guess it’s safe to say it’s working,” Sam huffed humorlessly.  
I wished a hole would open and swallow me up, take me away from this forming shitstorm.
“So,” he leaned forward again, and I already knew what he would ask next. I shook my head, silently begging him not to. “How do you honestly think and feel about Dean?”
God, I fought. My fingers gripped the table, and I shook my head as pained sounds passed through my pressed-shut lips. The word vomit was collecting in the back of my throat to choke me.
"Y/N?" Sam pressed, probably wondering - same as myself - how I was holding back. Dean's shell cracked enough that I could see concern.
“I love and admire him,” I spat, the words painfully and forcefully pulled from me, my heart and mind feeling shredded with each uttered word. “I’m in love with him. I want to show him he is worthy of love and be the one to give it to him. And kids. And the Hunter Pie life. To give him all he ever wanted because he deserves it and more.”
Tears streamed down my face, and I panted to breathe as twin looks of utter shock passed over the brothers.
“Please,” I begged, jumping from my seat. “Please, no more. Don’t do this.”
As they hesitated, I took the opening and ran like hell from the Library to my room. I could hear them shouting as I retreated in horror.
“Don’t. Let her go, Sam.”
“Dean!”
I slammed and locked the bedroom door behind me, then slowly fell into bed, hard sobs wracking my body, and my heart shattered until I passed out.
-
I was determined to forget about it when I woke up. Or, I would do my best to ignore them and continue my usual domestic duties. 
I went to the bathroom and the kitchen to start coffee and breakfast. I liked helping out, and Dean especially seemed appreciative, which only encouraged me. Would that change now? Maybe they’d make me leave because what I said was too awkward.
As I finished cooking, I heard the Bunker door close, meaning Sam must have returned from his morning run and would be heading to the showers. Another door closing alerted me that Dean would be entering the kitchen at any moment seeking coffee.
I sipped from my mug on the island as he shuffled into the room like a half-asleep zombie and poured himself a cup. It took a few gulps before he could open his eyes enough to see me.
“Mornin’,” he spoke gruffly, and I fought back the swoon as usual.
“Mornin’,” I responded. “Uh, there’s breakfast. Help yourself.”
I forced a smile, then grabbed my mug, taking hurried steps desperate to carry me out of the room and away from the man I loved—who now knew I loved him. But that beautiful man was also intelligent and quick and wouldn’t let me get away so quickly.
“Y/N?” He sat down his coffee and stepped closer. “About last night. I’m sorry; that shouldn’t have happened. We… were paranoid and worried it might be like Becky or something all over again, and we just wanted to be sure.”
As he explained, I looked to the ground but nodded to his words. In a way, I got it, but it still didn’t make it okay.
“You never…” he paused and licked his lips. “You never said anything. Never even gave a hint. I mean,” he chuckled, “I really didn’t see that coming.”
“I was never going to say anything,” I admitted, and he looked confused and something else. “I was never going to act on it. It was my secret and my burden. But now it’s all weird, and you probably want me to leave.”
Oh Lord, I couldn’t cry in front of him again!
“Why would I want you to leave?”
His question left me speechless, and I wasn’t sure how best to answer.
“You know,” he moved as he spoke, approaching closer and closer until my back hit the counter, and there was an arm’s length between us. “Women have told me they love me and can picture a life or future with me. But never in this life, never in a hunting life. And none of them, not one, has ever wanted to have my children.”
Okay. Where was he going with this? I was too nervous and scared to move or make a sound. I dared to meet his eyes and instantly regretted it as I felt my heart flutter madly.
“And I have no idea what a Hunter Pie life is,” he chuckled before moving just a few inches before me. “But I’ve been thinking about it all night.”
His words, eyes, and closeness were daring me to do something. But that couldn’t be right. In all my fantasies, I never believed that he would ever entertain the idea. But now… Dean groaned as his phone rang in his pocket, and I released a breath I didn’t know I was holding.
“Jody, hey," Dean answered, stepping a few feet away to focus on the call. “Yeah, Okay. Sam and I can be there in a couple of hours. All right, see you soon.”
He hung up and sighed, returning to me as Sam entered the room. We all glanced at each other before Dean cleared his throat.
“Jody and the girls,” Dean tucked his phone back in his pocket. “Got a case, and they need our help. Ready in ten?”
Sam huffed but nodded, giving the food a yearning glance before rushing to pack. Dean lingered, running a hand down his face and flashing a tight smile before heading off to get ready. I wasn’t sure if I was grateful or sad, but I was certainly confused.
I rushed through the kitchen, packing up breakfast and some other food for them to take with them. I always tried to give them premade meals in thermal coolers that they could refrigerate or microwave. They seemed to appreciate having home-cooked food while away.
As the brothers loaded their bags, I carried the cooler and a paper bag of immediate consumables to the car. I placed the cooler on the back floorboard before handing Dean the paper bag.
“Thanks,” he grinned, passing the bag to Sam, who immediately started digging through it. I expected him just to climb in and leave, but he paused while fidgeting with his keys.
“Please don’t leave while we’re gone.”
I wasn’t expecting that, but the idea was one of many emotionally driven bad decisions I had been considering.
“We’ll talk,” he promised with a nod. “I’ll text and call, and we’ll talk.”
I nodded and gave the same tight-lipped smile he’d given before. Then, I let out a sigh of relief as they drove away.
-
Dean POV
God, this hunt came at the shittiest possible time. I didn’t want to go. Leaving felt like closing the door on this thing I just discovered. But I didn’t have a choice.
Jody and Claire stumbled on a vamp nest that was the biggest they’d ever seen. It was a giant damn hive. Though she’d called Donna and a few others, it was an ‘all hands on deck’ situation. It didn’t mean I wanted to leave. Something was brewing, changing between Y/N and me. I was terrified it would disappear if I couldn’t tend to it. But if she genuinely meant what she said, then I supposed this could be a test of that. Or maybe even a way to feel it out over text. Face-to-face always made shit complicated and awkward. I was less likely to fuck anything up this way, but still fully capable.
“So,” Sam broke the silence, and my grip tightened on the wheel. “We gonna talk about what happened last night?”
“Sam, I told you to leave it.”
“No, Dean!”
His persistence pissed me off. I didn’t want to get into it with him, but he was on a mission.
“Look, we agreed to give her the serum and question her. We wanted to see what she knew and if she was a threat, like Becky. I thought asking those questions first might be awkward but clear the air. I wasn’t expecting…that.”
“She’s not a threat, Sam.”
“Well, we don’t know that because we didn’t get to ask her anything.”
“What’s really got you so worked up, huh? You mad she’s just not that into you?”
My brother’s annoyed bitchface was satisfying enough to make me smirk. At least he shut up for half a second.
“Don’t you get it?” Sam growled through clenched teeth. “She could be YOUR Becky, Dean. Who knows what she might do if she thinks she loves you.”
My hands wrung the wheel a little harder as I resisted the urge to hit him. I’m unsure why I felt so protective of her then, but I knew she wasn’t like Becky. She wasn’t like any of them, but I couldn’t prove it to him.
“Sam, let me handle this. Please.”
His stunned silence made me glance over to see him gaping like a fish and over-analyzing.
“Yeah. Okay.” He huffed, turning his gaze to the window. I rolled my eyes so hard my head went with it.
“Don’t say ‘Yeah. Okay.’ like…Yeah. Okay.”
“Yeah,” He shrugged, pretending to lose interest in the conversation. “Okay.”
I pressed the pedal harder. Maybe this hunt came at the perfect time. I really needed something to kill.
-
It was a bloodbath: so many vamps and beheadings, so many injured hunters, so many dead or turned victims. Though we cleared the nest with no casualties to our team, it didn’t feel like much of a victory. No one was saved.
There was still celebration and rivalry to be had as we patched each other up and cheered over the mass amount of bloodsucking bastards we killed and future victims we spared.
It was just what I needed to get the itching energy and simmering anger at my brother out of my system. Now buzzed and beat, I only wanted one thing at that moment. As everyone, including my overgrown baby brother, went to bed, I grabbed my beer and quietly wandered outside. I found myself sitting on Baby’s hood and appreciating the quiet and still night. Pulling out my phone, I dialed Y/N. It was late, and she might be asleep, but I needed to hear her voice. 
I’d kept my word, and we’d been texting, but it was mostly to keep her apprised of the hunt. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it or her since those seemingly fateful words tumbled from her lips. As her sleepy voice answered, I felt a flutter in my heart, making me feel like a kid again.
“Dean?” she yawned. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Hunt’s done. Was a ton of them bastards.” I tried to laugh but knew she’d see through it
“Is everyone alright?”
“Little banged up, but we’re all good. No vics to save, though.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“It was a mess,” I sighed, and a comfortable silence fell between us. I needed a distraction. “You never did tell me about this Hunter Pie life of yours.” I chuckled for real this time, maybe some of it nerves, as I hoped she’d talk to me and open up without a serum. When she giggled, I felt the flutters again.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Just…tell me how it looks. In your mind, how does it go?”
“Wow,” she huffed and chuckled again before clearing her throat. “Um, okay.”
The silence drew out again, and I wondered if she was backing out, but then she continued.
“Okay. Well, I guess I always thought it would be like it is now, you know? Like me cooking and domestic and stuff at the Bunker.”
She ‘always’ thought? I pinned a note in that for later, but I hoped she had more. I hummed to let her know I was listening. She just didn’t know I was hanging on to her every word.
“Family meals where you and Sam tell the kids and me about the hunt. Giving them a normal life and home base while keeping them informed and trained. Hide and seek in the Bunker with Nerf guns and call it a hunt.”
She was laughing, and I could hear her smile as she spoke, mine growing with her tales.
“There are so many scenarios where you could play games with the kids that’s still training. Or just spending time doing normal things.”
It sounded amazing, though I wasn’t entirely convinced it was possible. But hearing and picturing it made me feel infinitely better, among other things.
“And what about us?” I knew I was crossing a line into new territory. Begging her to tell me all this, I knew, was giving her hope—and much-needed hope for me.
“Us?” She echoed, and I grinned at her surprised tone. “I just want to take care of you. To show you that you are worthy and deserve it all and more. To be lucky enough to be in your arms. To give you whatever you need and want. To hold you, listen, patch you up, and watch movies in bed while eating junk food.”
We laughed together, and I had to wipe away a tear. I could see it so clearly. I wished I was there to wrap her in my arms like she described. The WANT that simmered within me was something I’d never felt before.
When she yawned, I felt like an ass, having woken her just to make myself feel better. But it did exactly what I’d hoped.
“I’m sorry; I’m gonna let you get back to bed. It’s late.”
“You sure?” 
She seemed disappointed, and I was, too. But we both needed sleep and the sooner I got that, the quicker I’d return to her.
“Yeah, I’m sure. Sooner I sleep, the sooner I can get home.”
I hadn’t meant to say that, but her soft chuckle made it worthwhile.
“I’ll be waiting.”
We said our goodnights and hung up. She’d be waiting for me, for us to begin. I just needed a couple of hours of sleep, and then I’d push Baby to her limits to get back home as quickly as possible.
-
Y/N POV
What the fuck was that? What just happened? I tried to wipe the sleep from my eyes but couldn’t fight the tiredness pulling me back under.
When I woke up again, I felt good and refreshed. Then I remembered the call from the night before. I dove for my phone on the nightstand to find a text from Dean.
Dean: Heading out soon. See you in a few hours. ;)
It had already been nearly two hours since he’d sent the text. I jumped out of bed in a panic, knowing there wasn’t much time before they’d return. Did he even sleep?
I rushed to shower and dress before going to the kitchen and making coffee. I wasn’t sure how much time I had, but I knew Sam and Dean would be hungry.
I tried to focus on cooking, but I kept replaying our conversation from the night before. And what was with the winky face? Did last night mean something, or did he need comfort after a lousy hunt? The things I said—how could I look him in the eye?
When the roar of the Impala entering the garage sounded through the Bunker, I fought the urge to run and hide. Just…act NORMAL.
“Damn, it smells good in here.”
I turned to see Sam and Dean entering the kitchen with big smiles. However, they both looked like they’d had their asses handed to them on that hunt. 
“We’re fine,” Dean answered, my concern written on my face. This was gonna be harder than I thought.
“I figured y’all would probably be hungry.”
“He’s always hungry,” Sam teased as he made a plate. I was glad he seemed to ease the tension I was choking on.
“Just glad that’s all over,” Dean responded, joining Sam at the table.
“Well, I’m glad you’re okay,” I told them before slinking to my room to hide like a coward.
Just as I thought, I couldn’t look either of them in the eye. What if they talked about it, about me? Of course, they did. Were things just going to be unbearably awkward now? How long could I pretend and hide?
Turns out, not long at all.
“Hey, Y/N?”
Dean knocked on the partially open door before opening it and stepping inside the room.
“Hey, Dean. Need something?”
Yeah, just keep it cool—really chill.
“Yeah,” he grinned and rubbed the back of his neck. Wait, was he nervous? “I was wondering if you wanted to watch a movie in my room or something.”
This really was happening.
“Netflix and chill?” I teased and laughed, watching his tension ease. “That’s your play?”
“Well, you’re the one who mentioned it in our planned future,” he teased back, and my confidence faltered for a minute.
“I thought you might want to get some sleep. It didn’t seem you got much between our call and that text.”
“Then we’ll watch and nap,” he shrugged, taking my hand and guiding me to his room. And, of course, I went willingly, following him in a trance and soaking up the warmth of his touch.
Once in his room, he released my hand to set up something on the TV. I sat on the end of the bed, hands in my lap as I awkwardly tried to figure out what to do and how to act. He kicked off his shoes and flannel, leaving him in jeans and a t-shirt before dramatically flopping onto the bed, leaning back against the headboard.
“Come here?” he asked as he patted the space beside him.
“‘Kay,” I grinned and eagerly slid beside him, smiling harder as his arm settled around my shoulders, tucking me into his side.
I had dreamed and fantasized about this moment - as simple and innocent as it may be - so many times, and now it was a reality. I was more than surprised that his reaction to my truth was desire. But if he genuinely gave me a chance, I was determined to give him everything I said and more. Whatever he wanted, I was prepared to give.
-
Dean POV
It had been years since I’d done something as simple as cuddling and watching a movie. It felt intimate and special. As she quoted a line from the film, eating some junk food I’d laid out, I wondered if it was a djinn dream or a spell.
I wasn’t a blind fool, much as Sam tried to insist I was. I knew she was a fan, and we didn’t know much about her, which was why I agreed to the serum to begin with.
But I’d observed her plenty in her time with us. She was kind and helpful and an artist in the kitchen. She was a natural caregiver. She was funny and charming. She was super bright, too, with how she spoke, things she knew, and how easily she took to research - which she also happened to be great at. It didn’t hurt she was hot as fuck, but she had no clue.
Then, learning she was in love with me sent my mind reeling. I wasn’t a total idiot - letting this, her, pass me by would be the dumbest thing ever. I had to try, take a chance, or regret it forever.
She noticed when I glanced at her, turning her head to meet my eyes. Letting the moment sweep me away, I leaned in, pleasantly surprised when she slowly met me in the middle. My eyes fluttered, and I hummed at the sweet little spark that tingled my lips. I tilted my head, kissing her a little harder, more sure. She responded in kind, and that spark shot down my spine.
Cupping her jaw, I titled her head as I ran my tongue along the seam of her lips, begging her to open to me. I needed to taste her as much as I needed my next breath.
When she parted her lips, a gentle moan spilled forth. When my tongue slipped past her lips and tasted her soft, warm tongue, a responding moan was ripped from my chest. She tasted divine. Her tongue chased after my own, but I could feel her restraint. She was holding back; I knew it was because she was unsure, not in her feelings or wanting me. Instead, she didn’t know what I was after, too afraid to push forward and break the spell.
I pulled back, intent on breaching the topic, but a knock at my door broke the trance. Stupid Sam and his lousy timing. Another firm series of knocks had me rolling my eyes and groaning. Reluctantly, I released Y/N and opened the door; Sam was surprised to see her on the bed behind me.
“Hey, do you have a minute?” he asked, casting her a wary glance. I stepped into the hallway and shut the door behind me, following him a few feet down the hall.
“What, Sam?”
-
Sam POV
I wanted to talk to Dean about Y/N and this whole situation. I wasn’t expecting to find her in Dean’s bed with flushed cheeks. This whole thing was quickly spinning out of control.
“Het, got a minute?”
I didn’t want to have this conversation with Y/N around. Luckily, Dean closed the door and followed me down the hall.
“What, Sam?”
“What are you doing?”
“Sam, I told you-”
“No, Dean. We don’t know what her game is. She could have done a spell or made a deal. And you’re in there feeding her little fantasy.”
My older brother was incredibly defensive. He stood tall and stubborn with his arms crossed, but I could see in his eyes that he wanted to hit me.
“Look,” Maybe changing tactics would get him to see reason. I didn’t want to see him taken advantage of for the sake of some crazy fanatics’ whims. “All I’m saying is let’s look into her and this more. Talk to Cas, maybe Crowley or Rowena. Just…make sure it’s, you know, legit.”
As Dean slightly relaxed, I saw I was finally getting through to him. Y/N was nice to have around, but my paranoia wouldn’t rest until I was confident she wouldn’t cause us harm.
“Fine,” Dean agreed in a huff, his arms dropping to his sides. “Call Cas or whatever, do your research. Meanwhile, I’m going back to her and enjoying what I KNOW is real.”
Neither of us expected to see Y/N standing in the open doorway. I wasn’t sure how much she’d heard, but she looked hurt and determined.
“I’m gonna go to my room. Let you all figure this out.”
“Y/N-”
“It’s okay, Dean. Sam’s right; you can’t be sure, and I want you to be sure.”
She left the hall and went to her room. I was relieved and also incredibly guilty. That could be part of her plan. But as Dean turned back to face me, I again worried he’d throw a punch.
“You get what you wanted,” Dean spat through gritted teeth.
“Dean, I’m just looking out for you. You did the same thing with Becky, and it was for the best.”
He nodded but silently returned to his room, slamming the door loud enough to make me jump. I’d call Cas and Rowena to get to the bottom of this.
-
I stood in the Bunker’s library two days later with Y/N, Dean, Castiel, and Rowena. Except, all eyes were pointed at me with varying expressions.
While Dean was against it, Y/N allowed Cas and Rowena to poke, prod, and pry at her and her mind, searching for anything unusual. But there was nothing. According to Cas and Rowena - who both looked at me with pained sympathy - her love for Dean was pure and true, the real deal and soul-deep.
Dean looked at me with smugness and contempt. I knew he was feeling so damn righteous. But Y/N - she looked defeated and heartbroken. I knew I was an ass, but I couldn’t help feeling something was still off. If she knew all the horrible details of our lives and the many things we’d done - why the hell would she love either of us? Especially my love-em-and-leave-em brother?
“Are we done?” Y/N spoke, standing tall, but I could see the tears in her eyes and the waver in her voice. “Can I go?”
-
Y/N POV
After two whole days of being ripped open and exposed, working to prove myself in ways I never intended, I was more than done. I wanted to be thrilled at meeting the angel and the witch, but the circumstances left me feeling violated in many ways.
“Are we done? Can I go?”
I didn’t wait for a response, turning and heading for my room before the tears fell. I couldn’t bear it anymore. I didn’t even leave the library before a hand grabbed my arm.
“Y/N, wait,” Dean pleaded. I turned to him, and a single tear escaped to stream down my face.
“I just want to go. To forget any of this ever happened.”
“You could do that?” Dean asked, and my heart clenched at the hurt on his face. “Forget it?”
“No, but I have to,” I pulled slowly from his touch, already missing it.
“We can do this; we can make it work,” he insisted, and I shook my head and laughed, though it was without humor.
“THIS wouldn’t have happened if you two hadn’t snuck a truth serum in my drink. Sam questioned me, ripping my secrets from me, doubting me entirely. And you…you did nothing. Sam is the most important person in your life. If he’s not on board, it will never work.”
He didn’t say anything, but my words struck a chord. He didn’t try to stop me when I retreated a second time. While I was grateful, it also hurt. At least nothing more than a kiss happened. It might be easier to recover.
-
Dean POV
Hurt and anger were all I could feel. I understood Y/N’s position somewhat, though it hurt that she’d turn away. I turned to face my brother, all my anger directed at him.
“Are you happy now?” I shouted at him, and he dared to appear surprised. “This is your fault.”
“Dean, I’m just-”
“Looking out for me? Yeah, I know. But why does it feel like you’re jealous?”
“Whoa, I’m not-”
“You’re both daft fools,” Rowena spoke as she busied herself with tidying the items on the table.
“Excuse me?” Sam and I spoke at the same time.
“You two have put that poor lass through hell trying to find the truth. A truth that’s pure love. And while you act like you want it, you’ve done nothing. You let Sam question and doubt her. And she’s right; it’ll never work if Sam doesn’t support it because you two are so grossly intertwined. And you, Samuel,” she turned her fiery attention to Sam, and I felt a little scared for him. “You’re so busy thinking her love is undeserved that you must find a reason it can’t be real.”
“Undeserved?” I looked at my brother; his silent shame told me all I needed. “That’s it, right?”
“Dean, come on. How could someone know everything we’ve done and still love us—love you? I mean, love and relationships aren’t your thing. Don’t you think maybe someone or something is behind this?”
“Sam,” Castiel chimed in to chastise my brother.
I couldn’t look at him any longer, or I would kick his ass. I took off to my room. I wanted to go after Y/N, to beg for forgiveness, but I knew I couldn’t go to her as angry as I was, and she needed space, too. As I realized I may have genuinely lost this before I even got to glimpse it, I felt my lips tingle with the phantom press of her lips to mine. I’d just have to wait to let her come to me. I hoped she still wanted to and that Sam would get his head out of his ass.
-
Sam POV
Several weeks had passed since this whole truth serum mess with Y/N, and I was left feeling like a complete dick.
After Cas and Rowena checked her over, we all went our separate ways. Things in the Bunker seemed to go back to how they were, except no one talked to each other outside of pleasantries or necessity.
My brother would glare at me or make a snide remark to ensure I knew he was pissed. He felt I ruined everything, and maybe he was right. Y/N still cooked and cleaned and helped with research. But she didn’t make eye contact or small talk or linger. She didn’t eat with us or stay in the room for long. It made Dean more bitter every day.
I knew I had let my paranoia and fear get the better of me, and maybe I was a little bit jealous. Out of the two of us, I was the one who was only worth a good time? But as I reflected on her time with us and her interactions with Dean, I realized how much they had in common and enjoyed each other's company—even without romance mixed in.
I had to figure out how to make this right for both of them. I just had to convince Y/N I was sorry and wrong and that she and Dean should try to be together. Then Dean would forgive me, and all would be right again.
-
Dean POV
Sam had tried talking to me and apologized. I was grateful but still pissed. He swore he’d try to make things right, but I asked him not to. She hadn’t made eye contact or spoken any friendly words since Sam - no, since WE - had Cas and Rowena check her.
Sam was right; I didn’t deserve her. And I was heartbroken at her distance, her change in demeanor. I knew she was deeply hurt. As pissed as I was at Sam, I was even more so at myself. I did nothing to stand up for or defend her against the tests. I was just as guilty.
She would never have said anything. I never would have known had we not drugged her. I wanted to be mad about that, too, and was to a degree. Was this all some test, or were Sam and I destined to destroy everyone who crosses our path and dares to care about us?
The point may be to fight. But if I really wanted it, why wasn’t I trying harder?
I overheard the two of them in the kitchen the other night. However, it was mostly Sam, as she still didn’t seem to be in a chatty mood. I knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, and maybe I should have let them know I was there, but curiosity got the better of me.
Just like with me, he was apologizing to her. But he was also practically BEGGING her to give me another chance. He swore he was on board and supported it - hell, he was full-on dreaming for it to happen now. She thanked him for his apology and said no more.
I didn’t know what to do. But I knew Sam was okay with us, and I wanted to find out what ‘us’ even looked like.
-
Y/N POV
Sam had been giving me whiplash. One day, he was utterly suspicious of me, then he ignored me, and now he’s practically begging me to give Dean a chance—as if I’d been the one rejecting him. I didn’t know what to do.
While I was glad they’d both apologized, I was still hurt. I tried my best to see things from their side: how this might all seem a rational way to go about things or why they were so paranoid. But my pain and embarrassment kept me quiet, just trying to make it day by day while focusing on business as usual. Maybe we’d all move on and put this whole thing behind us.
Until then, I had to do my best to maintain a sense of routine in the Bunker for their sakes. And I wasn’t going to hide away in my room moping either.
This is how I found myself in the library, reading a book as Sam sat on the opposite side with his laptop. I didn’t know if he was researching or looking for a case, but I did know I was pretty irritated that, with many other tables and chairs, he chose to sit across from me.
I tried to focus on the book but scanned the words more than I read them. I was aware of Sam constantly looking at me as if he had something to say before hastily looking back at his screen. I pretended not to notice until I stiffened at the sound of Dean’s approach.
I wanted to run and hide every time he entered the room, afraid he’d catch my longing looks or hear how fast my heart beat when he passed close enough to touch and smell. I could still feel his kiss and the warmth of his hand on my cheek as he held me sweetly. I tried to control it, but now that he knew, I felt so exposed, as if he could sense my every thought. It was a bit unnerving.
I tried to focus on my book as Dean concentrated on his brother, who leaned back in his chair to give him his attention.
“Garth needs backup on a hunt,” Dean announced, and I relaxed, knowing they’d likely leave soon.
“Okay,” Sam stood from his chair, gathering his laptop. “Meet at the car in ten?”
Sam began walking away before Dean’s voice made him stop.
“Uh, actually,” Dean rubbed the back of his neck and smirked at his brother. “You and Garth should be able to handle it. Baby needs some maintenance anyway.”
Sam - to his credit and that annoying silent communication of theirs - paused only a moment before seeming to decide.
“Yeah, okay,” he responded quickly and eagerly, making me look at him directly.
He flashed me a smile before continuing his retreat from the room. The quiet, along with being alone with Dean, was sending my anxiety through the roof. He turned to face me, and - Lord, help me - I couldn’t even pretend to care about the book as our eyes met for the first time in what felt like ages.
“So,” he grinned as he slid into the seat Sam had just vacated, refusing to break the locked gaze. “Are you hungry? We could order pizza or go to a place in town or something.”
Okay, so he was waving a white flag. I could get behind that, and I was definitely hungry.
-
Dean POV
“You hungry? We could order pizza or go to a place in town or something?”
She relaxed, but I could see she was still apprehensive. I hated this awkward silence and distance, which hung like a dark cloud over everything. She had confessed her love, both with the serum and without. She spoke about our potential lives, which left me craving. But I hadn’t done much to show my want, to fight for it like she had done.
When Garth called about a case, I saw an opportunity. I would put on my A-game and fight for this, for us.
“Uh, okay. Yeah, sure,” she forced a smile, but I met it with a genuine one.
“Great,” I answered, standing from my seat and gesturing for her to follow. I was only slightly surprised that she did.
“What are you in the mood for?”
“Whatever you want is fine.”
Whatever I want? I grinned and fought back the chuckle as she followed me to Baby in the garage.
“I thought Baby needed work?”
I did laugh then as we settled in the front seat of my car.
“Yeah, I sort of wanted an excuse to be alone with you.”
“Oh.”
She blushed and bashfully looked away. I bit my lip and started the car, driving us into town. If she didn’t care where we went, I knew a place on the edge of town with great burgers, cheap beer, good music, and pool tables. I’d be in my element and could pull my best moves. I was intent on wooing her, and this was usually how I succeeded with others. 
She was not anything like the others at all. She was so much more, from her looks to her body to her mind and heart. As we parked outside the roadhouse, I wondered if this place was the best idea.
Her soft smile was encouraging. As we went inside, my hand hovered over her lower back, guiding her through the crowd to an empty table in the middle of the room. It allowed me to watch everything, and I felt even more on guard than usual with her there.
I watched tentatively as she sat across from me, her eyes scanning the surroundings before landing back on me with a shy smile.
“I hope this is okay. We can go somewhere else if you’re uncomfortable.”
“No, this is great!”
She seemed genuinely happy to be there, and I relaxed. The waitress came and took our orders, and I was pleased to hear Y/N talk more than she had been recently. I guess now was a good time to speak with her about what’s been on my mind.
“Look, Y/N…I want you to know that I am so damn sorry.”
She met my eyes then, and I swallowed hard.
“I’m sorry for everything that happened, that I let happen. We shouldn’t have pried. I’m so sorry you got hurt and exposed and that I didn’t stand up for you.”
She dropped her gaze to the table, tensing up again, and it felt like that beautiful door of opportunity was closing. I needed her to interact with me. Anything was better than the distance and empty pleasantries. At this point, I didn’t care if she flirted or screamed at me.
The waitress returned our order, and I thanked her. Y/N was focused on her food.
“I’m not sorry that I know. In fact, I’m a little pissed you were never gonna tell me.”
I took a bite from my burger and was waiting for her reaction. She stared at me with narrowed eyes before clearing her throat.
“What, I’m just supposed to come out and say it? Even though there was barely a friendship between us?”
She scoffed and returned to eating. But I was frozen, caught up in her choice of words.
“What do you mean ‘was’?”
Had she given up? Has she decided we weren’t worth it? That I wasn’t worth it?
-
Y/N POV
“What do you mean ‘was’?”
The pain in his tone made my heart clench. I didn’t mean to imply we weren’t anymore, but it didn’t feel like we were.
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
He accepted it, and we ate in comfortable silence. When the waitress returned to clear the table, Dean settled the bill but asked to start a tab for drinks. When a whiskey shot was set before me, I clanked with Dean’s and knocked it back, taking it for the peace offering it was.
“Thank you for apologizing. I can understand why you two felt you needed to do those things. I just wish you would’ve asked.”
“So if Sam asked how you felt about me, without the serum, what would you have said?”
“I would have said I respect and admire you.”
“But not that you love me? Why?”
I had a feeling he’d ask that at some point. I huffed a breath and chewed my lip as I chose my words.
“Because I’m not worthy. If I never say anything, I never have to face your rejection, which would hurt, and it’d hurt you to see me hurt ‘cause you just care that much.”
I guess I didn’t need a serum. The big secret was out, and I told Dean all about our fantasy lives. At least if I kept truthing, I’d know if he truly accepted me.
“But I didn’t reject you, Y/N.”
I met Dean’s eyes, seeing how open he was, letting me see his truth. The intensity I found there made me gasp a little.
“I did hurt you, and seeing that hurt me,” he continued. Reaching across the table, he held one of my hands. “But I didn’t reject you. In fact,” his grip tightened, and a flirty smirk adorned his luscious lips. “I can’t stop thinking about you. About our future. About that damn kiss.” He laughed, and I nodded my agreement because I felt the same.
“Hey folks, can I get you another round?”
The waitress returned, and I jumped. Dean held my hand, which was firm but gentle, and smiled at her.
“Yes, please. Two shots, two beers. Thanks,” he said, placing a nice tip on her tray, and she left with a smile. It always warmed me how he could be so charming, even without a trace of flirting. His keeping ahold of my hand sent my heart into a frenzy. Maybe I wasn’t reading enough into all of this, which had me chuckling aloud just as our next round arrived.
“What should we drink to?” Dean asked as we held our shots.
I put on my best flirty smirk and clinked my glass with his.
“To second chances?” I suggested, hoping he’d pick up and accept my insinuations.
“I’ll drink to that!”
We threw back our shots and spent moments looking at each other and smiling.
-
Dean POV
It felt almost like making a deal, but one I’d gladly make again and again. I’d never experienced this feeling. It was as if I was embarking on an exciting adventure, eager to learn everything about this person and savor and enjoy every morsel of her being that she was willing to feed me.
I did my best to shut out the dark voice in my mind, telling me it couldn’t last. Either I’ll fuck it up, or she’ll leave, or - God forbid - she dies. That tiny black hole within me was itching to devour all the happiness around me.
But in her presence, it grew quieter and easier to manage. Even before her confessions, I witnessed how kind and caring she was, her compassion providing comfort. She was nurturing, even in the way I imagined a loving mother would be. I don’t remember. But she was like soft candlelight shining amidst the pitch black within my mind.
“How about a game of pool?” I suggested, seeing some open tables. I could show off a little and maybe get a chance to get close to help her line up a shot.
“Okay,” she agreed, taking my hand when I offered it.
I was reluctant to let her go, but I had to set up a game. Basic eight-ball was fine with me and didn’t take much thought.
“I know how to play, but I’m not very good,” she admitted. I bit my lip to contain my excitement about helping her.
“No worries. It's just a fun game. No pressure. But I could show you some things if you want.”
“Eager to bend me over the table, huh?” She laughed, and I was initially shocked. But if she was ready to ‘play,’ then game on, Babygirl.
As we started the game, she was focused, analyzing angles and trying her best. I, however, was focused on her. The way she moved, thought, and bent like a dancer to take her shots, Her whole body was lithe and curvy, stretching like a cat. I noticed, too, that she was ambidextrous. With some practice and pointers, she’d be outstanding. She had a natural skill but wasn’t used to playing.
I went back to admiring her as her plump ass was on display as she bent for a shot and missed. The pout that followed made me want to kiss it away. She was effortlessly sexy, and she had no fucking clue.
“You ready to head back?” I asked after finishing a game. I was ready to be alone with her again, if only to kiss her senseless.
“Sure,” she grinned, placing her hand in mine before I could reach for her.
I grinned like a fool as I paid our tab and led her outside. But we were stopped by a storm, with rain falling thick and fast.
“Race you to the car?” she grinned before dashing into the downpour to the Impala at the back corner of the lot. She was crazy but beautiful.
Grinning again, I ran into the rain to take her hand as we ran to the car together, laughing the whole way.
-
Y/N POV
I dashed out into the rain, feeling giddy and playful. I was high on the night I was having. I had been entirely aware of Dean’s eyes on me - and quite a few other’s eyes - but I tried not to think about it and just be normal.
With my spirits high and being a bit drunk, I felt brave.
“Race you to the car?”
I took off, half expecting him to chastise me. But when he took my hand and ran with me, laughing the whole way, my heart soared. I felt free, alive, and blessed to share it with Dean, the man I loved.
Dean released my hand to get his keys and open the door as we got to the car. I was mesmerized by watching his hand and fingers work, wet from the rain.
“Get in,” he gestured, and I quickly moved, sliding across the bench to the passenger’s side.
“We’re gonna have to wait ‘til it calms down a little. I can’t see much in this.”
I didn’t think about that when running through the downpour. Dean turned on the car only to turn on the heat, and the radio was low on some classic rock station. I couldn’t help but look at him and admire how handsome he was and how that was accentuated by being drenched. It was giving me wicked thoughts, and with my inhibitions lowered, I knew I wasn’t hiding it well.
I shamelessly ogled him as he shed his jacket and overshirt, leaving him in a t-shirt. He tossed the wet clothes in the backseat before looking at me to find me attentively watching his every move. His eyes trailed slowly down my body and back up again. My breathing picked up as my heart raced. He licked his lower lip into his mouth and released it. I think I moaned a little.
“Y/N.”
Dean broke the silence, the rain still pounding hard outside. We leaned towards each other, and his hand cupped my cheek as our lips met. It was just as good as before, though I wondered if I’d imagined it.
His tongue ran gently across my lip, and I felt a flutter between my legs. I opened for him and melted as his tongue met mine. I let him lead, knowing he was used to this, but I hadn’t been with anyone in a while and hadn’t made a habit of hooking up or even taking chances. I was worried I might be out of practice, but I felt encouraged by his sounds and actions.
He pulled back, ending the kiss far too soon for my liking, and I may have whined a little. He chuckled, and I pouted. He leaned in with a groan, sucking my lower lip before kissing me soundly.
I felt like I was in trouble, but in a very sexy way. It was a little confusing. But I was quickly sobering as I realized where this was heading. At least, I hoped.
-
Dean POV
Goddamn, this woman would surely kill me - but what a way to go. I was ready to make her mine here and now, and I was almost sure she’d let me. But she deserved better than that. As sappy as it may be, I wanted our first time together in a bed - specifically MY bed - so I could take my time and make it memorable. Special.
If things go the way I hope, it will be our last first time. I had more than a good feeling about this, and I was ready to do whatever was necessary to have her in my life.
How did I get so damn lucky, so fortunate to have this woman in love with me?
The rain was still coming down, but it had lessened enough that I was confident in getting us home safely. And I NEEDED her home, even if it was only to make out all night.
“Let me get you home,” I whispered, stealing another kiss.
“Well, you’ll have to stop kissing me to do that.”
I kissed her again, and she chuckled as I began to drive. I wanted her closer, tucked into my side, but I knew I needed to focus on the road. The sooner I got her home, the sooner I could touch and kiss her again.
I somehow managed to pull safely into the Bunker’s garage despite Y/N’s gaze devouring me the whole ride. As my cock swelled painfully against my zipper, I prayed to God we were on the same page. I’d be fine if she wasn’t ready. But I was about to burst at just the thought of her.
As soon as I parked the car, I turned to her. She grinned and leaned in to kiss me again. I grabbed at her, holding her close to me as I poured myself into the kiss, letting her taste my desire. 
She straddled my lap with little encouragement, and I wrapped my arms around her to press our bodies together, our hungry kisses unbroken. I grabbed a handful of her hair and gently tugged her head back as my kisses moved along her jaw. When I reached behind her ear, I gave a little kitten lick. Her body jerked and ground against my lap, making me hiss as the zipper pressed against my painfully hard cock.
-
Y/N POV
I could feel how hard he was, his hands as hungry as his mouth. I felt bold knowing there was no rejection waiting, only want. I pulled from the kiss and held his face in my hands.
“Dean, take me to bed?”
I was practically sober now, and so was he. I looked him in the eye, letting him know I meant it.
“Are you sure?” He asked, which surprised me. “I don’t want to rush you or make you feel like I expect anything. If you’re not ready, that’s okay. I can wait. You’re worth waiting for.”
I felt like I would cry, but the patience and understanding he exhibited made me even more sure. I kissed him slow and deep, pulling back to meet his eyes again.
“Take me to bed, Dean.” I realized how that might sound, even if my tone was soft. “Please.”
That seemed to spur him to action. As he devoured my mouth again, I filed it as a note for later. He set me back on the seat and climbed out of the car, offering his hand, which I accepted.
He smoothly pulled me from the car, closed the door, and pressed me against it in what felt like one move. The desire and hunger I saw in his eyes were almost intimidating. He kissed me senseless, his hands on my hips as he pressed his weight into me. He was so strong and capable that it only turned me on more.
“Your room or mine?” I asked, feeling confident enough to be sultry.
“Oh, Baby,” he grinned, unable to go long without kissing me. “I want you in my bed so bad.”
I chuckled and nodded, letting him lead me through the halls to his room.  Once the door shut, he pressed me against it like in the garage. I could hardly believe this was happening, but I was so damn eager for it. His hands pushed my shirt up, and I let him remove it. He made quick work of my bra, and the cool air had my nipples hardening. He dove in with a hum, taking a nipple in his mouth and flicking with his tongue. My knees buckled, and I was grateful for his firm grip on my hips.
He moved to my other nipple and repeated his actions, ripping a loud moan from me as my hips bucked in his hold.
“You’re so sensitive and responsive,” he praised as he removed his t-shirt.
-
Dean POV
She was so beautiful, and her sounds were the sweetest music. She was so desperate and needy, her body reaching into my every touch, even if she wasn’t fully aware.
I felt frenzied, eager to take, feel, and claim. I had to force myself to calm down. I wanted to savor this, to drag it out, and make it as good as possible for both of us.
I reluctantly pulled back, just enough to kick off my shoes and remove the rest of my clothes. She looked at me with pure lust, panting as she mimicked my actions. My hands rushed as she became revealed to me.
As soon as we were both bare, she was pressed against me, seeking another kiss, which I was too happy to provide. Our hands were gentle and cautious as we explored every line, curve, and dip of each other, our lips and tongues dancing together. While I was no doubt aroused - my cock throbbing and pinned between us - her warmth and softness calmed me in a way I hadn’t felt in years.
I started walking backward, bringing her with me. I sat on the edge of the bed, intent on pulling her into my lap, wanting her close, but she seemed to have other ideas.
She slowly lowered to her knees, cupping my cheek with one hand, the other wrapping around my cock as she kissed me passionately, more dirty than any other before. She stroked me firm but slow, and when she ran her thumb over the head, I moaned into her mouth.
She pulled back with a grin and gently pushed me back with a hand on my chest until I was propped on my elbows, unwilling to take my eyes off her. She seemed just as intent as me to slow down, drag it out, as she kissed and locked along my lower stomach and hips, nipping lightly here and there, making me jump and groan.
“Not the only one sensitive and responsive,” she teased back at me, nosing along the crease of my thigh, turning her head to nip at the tender inner flesh of my thigh.
“Y/N!”
It was half shock, half desperate arousal. She was driving me insane. She gave in, licking from the base of my cock to the head, tonguing around the rim. My head dropped back, and that was the moment she took me in her warm, wet mouth with a tight suction that already had me embarrassingly close to coming.
She pulled off to tease me some more, and I seized the opportunity, sitting up and swiftly pulling her to straddle my lap. Before she could catch her breath, I turned and lifted her, smoothly laying her back on the bed, her legs wrapped around me, holding me close.
She gasped and laughed, making me chuckle along with her. God, this was a beautiful moment.
“I’ve never been manhandled like that. Surprised me,” she admitted shyly.
I laughed again and kissed her soundly.
“A night of firsts then,” I teased, kissing her deep and rutting my aching cock through her surprisingly damp folds. I was happy to know she was just as aroused as me.
As we drowned in kissing, I trailed my hand down her body and between her legs. I ran a finger over her clit before circling her entrance and sliding inside.
“So damn wet already,” I spoke against her lips, eager to swallow down her moans. “Bet I could just slide right in.”
Fuck, I couldn’t help myself. I wasn’t thinking, only feeling as I adjusted my hips, grabbing my cock and sliding inside her. She was so tight and warm, and I could feel how deep I was. I had to stay still and catch my breath, or it’d all be over too soon. She was trembling around me, and I just wanted to make her come over and over.
-
Y/N POV
Dean was inside me, buried deep and nestled against my cervix. It was delicious, and I was hyper-aware of our every connection: our underbelly brushing, his hips against my inner thighs, chest-to-chest, and panted breaths shared from barely grazing mouths.
He pulled back slowly and slid in again, smooth and gentle. I felt like my heart would explode or I might burst into tears. He increased his speed only a little, kissing along my neck and chest. I marveled at feeling him, so long and thick and impossibly hard, fucking into me gently but with purpose.
Then, my rational mind began to speak up, reminding me he was bare inside me. I clenched and moaned, fighting back my breeding kink.
“Dean, wait,” I pushed gently at his shoulders, and he went still.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I promised, pecking his lips to reassure him. “But we need a condom. I’m not on birth control.”
He seemed to pause and think before nodding and slowly pulling out. As he moved from the bed to retrieve a condom, I wondered if I’d upset him. He sheathed himself and crawled back on the bed, and I opened my legs to welcome him. But he didn’t go for it right away.
His hand slid along my thigh, up my side, and cupped my cheek, his eyes searching mine.
“What had you clenching and moaning so hard?”
I could feel the heat in my cheeks. I also knew he was intelligent and experienced and had probably figured it out.
“My…my breeding kink.”
I mumbled the words in embarrassment but felt compelled to be honest. His pupils dilated, and he captured my lips hungrily as he slid within me again, with no hesitation and no resistance. He was so thick I could still feel every bit of him through the condom, his girth stretching me deliciously, making me wriggle my hips impatiently.
-
Dean POV
Fuck, hearing her say the words ‘breeding kink’ might have been the sexiest thing I ever heard. That’s something I’d be chewing on for a while.
I slid back inside her, and she let a sigh. I felt relief at being connected again, too. I could still feel her walls squeezing around me, but I wished I could feel her bare again. The primal side of me awakened, wanting to make her mine and breed her full.
Instead, I focused on her face and her reactions as I moved. I kept our bodies close, nearly all of us touching, which was way more intimate than I was used to. It only added to the many moments that made this an extraordinary connection. I had to remind myself it was only the start, the first time of what I hoped to be countless others.
As I picked up my pace, I could tell she was getting close. My thumb found her clit, and I rubbed tight circles in time with my thrusts. Her breathing sped up, and I could tell she was holding back.
“Wanna feel you come,” I told her, leaning in to kiss her ear and whispering as I kept moving within her. “Imagine me bare inside you, ready to fuck you full.”
I felt her clench hard before she moaned out her release, her hands digging into my ass as she held me deep. I did my best to grind against her and ride out her high. She was fucking gorgeous, and I was nowhere near done with her.
In another practiced move, I rolled to my back, taking her with me, my cock never leaving her tight and drenched pussy. Still coming down from her high, she kissed me sloppy before sitting up straight. My cock slid deeper, and we moaned together as I held her hips and encouraged her to ride me.
-
Y/N POV
My head was light, my body tingling from the incredible orgasm. I usually stopped at one, but the feel of Dean was too good to give up. He wanted more from me, and I wanted to give it.
I sat up straight, my hands on his abs for leverage. He was so deep it was almost too much. When I began to move my hips, I was intent on giving as good as I got. But it was so incredible it quickly became about me: what I wanted to feel and how. Luckily, he was enjoying it just fine.
I was about to lean down and kiss him, but he sat up, wrapping his arms around me. I held his gaze as I rode him, slowly and intentionally clenching my walls to massage his shaft.
He snarled and kissed me hard, his thumb rubbing my clit again. I was surprised how quickly my second orgasm was creeping up on me, but I was hungry for it, and so was he.
“Dean!”
I couldn’t help but shout for him - at him - I wasn’t sure. A second later, I was coming, riding him hard through my high as he focused his attention on my breasts.
God, I was drained and sweaty, barely able to catch my breath, my body spasaming and pussy throbbing. I didn’t even notice he’d sat forward, laying me back on the bed, still hard and inside me as he lavished my breasts and nipples with teeth and tongue.
I knew he hadn’t come yet and was starting to get concerned. Maybe I couldn’t keep up with him? Maybe it wasn’t as good for him? I thought it was the best I’d ever had, but he was more experienced. But I couldn’t get my brain to form words.
I ran my hands through his hair and over his back, and he hummed at the touch. I wiggled my hips, reminding us both that he hadn’t come yet and was hard as a rock.
“Dean?” I urged him from my chest and met his eyes. “Wanna feel you come.”
I wiggled my hips again as much as I could in this position: my ass on his lap and back lightly bowed.
“M’close,” he spoke against my lips. “How do you want it?”
God, that was so sexy. But I was determined to make this good for him, too.
“Whatever you want. Anything!”
-
Dean POV
She felt so goddamn good. I wasn’t sure how I’d been able to hold back coming all this time. I wanted to make her feel good, but I also wanted to impress and show her that I could care for her. More importantly, I wanted to show her that I wanted her.
As she floated down from her high, I took the time to worship her, licking the sweat from her skin and riling her up for more.
“Dean?”
Her soft voice calling my name so sweetly had me pausing to look at her.
“Wanna feel you come.”
My cock twitched, more than ready, but I fought to hold back, desperate to please.
“M’close,” I admitted, pecking her lips. “How do you want it?”
She moaned, her legs widening, making me sink a little deeper.
“Whatever you want. Anything!”
“So fucking perfect.”
I couldn’t help but praise her and was pleased when she swooned. I grinned and kissed her again, the feel of it already becoming second nature. I ran my hands up her arms and pulled her hands above her head, urging her to grab onto the edge of the mattress.
We smiled warmly at each other as I sat back on my heels, draping her legs over my arms as I gripped her hips. Her back was arched, legs wide.
I pulled back and swiftly thrust back inside, starting a brutal pace that rocked her body and had her screaming. She gripped the bed tight as I let go, fucking her like I wanted to. I was sure it was equal parts pain and pleasure, but she took every inch of me again and again.
She was chanting my name over and over, her pussy spasming wildly around my cock. I was going to come any second, but I needed to feel her one more time. To have her pull me over the edge with her.
I held her tight, sure there’d be bruises I’d kiss later, giving her all I had. She screamed even louder before her pussy fluttered and gushed all over me.
I lost it, falling forward and groaning as I came hard, the condom swelling with my seed. I huffed hard, my head falling into the crook of her neck. I couldn’t have imagined our first time together being any better than what we shared.
I tried to make myself move, worried I was crushing her. But she wrapped her arms around me and shook her head.
“No. Don’t move. Please.”
I laughed and dropped my head back to her neck. I was good with that.
-
Y/N POV
Fuck, I couldn’t move. Dean tried, but my oversensitive body couldn’t handle it, so I begged him to stay still. He seemed content to remain there for the time being.
“That was hands down the best sex I’ve ever had.” I chuckled at my honesty and still quite cum-drunk.
“Mmm,” he hummed, kissing my neck and pulling out. “You squirted.”
“I did?!” I had to lift my head and look, a big, wet mess all over us, the sheets beneath me wet. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know I could do that.”
“Fuck, don’t apologize.” He tossed the condom and grabbed a towel to clean us up. I sighed and lay there, letting him. “It was so fucking hot, Baby.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he agreed, tossing the towel and moving us under the blankets. I went willingly, completely spent.
“Sleep?” I asked, desperately needing to recover.
“Sleep,” he agreed, pecking my lips before moving to spoon me, his arms wrapped around me securely.
-
When I woke later, I smelled coffee and gentle kisses on my shoulder. I opened my eyes and propped on my elbows, having shifted to my stomach at some point.
Dean was right there beside me, his smile warm. My heart melted all over again.
“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” he teased with a chuckle. He shifted to sit back against the headboard, sipping at a mug.
“Hey.”
I forced myself to sit up, adjusting the blankets to cover myself as I leaned next to him, noticing he was shirtless, but the bedding covered his lap.
He handed me the mug, and I smiled bashfully as I drank the warm and delicious coffee inside. I returned it, and he set it on the nightstand, turning his attention back on me.
He grinned, leaning in and cupping my cheek as he kissed me sweetly. His hand trailed down my neck to my chest before thumbing at my nipple. The kiss turned heated in an instant as he made his intentions known.
He pulled back the covers, and I let him, though I whined that he pulled his lips away, too. He was just as naked as me and half-hard. But as his shoulders settled between my thighs, my mind went blank, simply eager for what he was about to do.
-
Dean POV
When I woke, I had to wipe drool from my chin after the incredible dream I had of feasting on Y/N’s sweet cunt. I sat up and wiped the sleep from my face before noticing Y/N was asleep beside me.
She was on her stomach, her hair a wild mess, her mouth hung open as she breathed heavy and deep. Remembering what happened earlier, a grin spread on my face as I realized it wasn’t all part of my dreams. I leaned down and gently kissed her shoulder, but she didn’t move.
I decided to rush to the bathroom and grab some coffee, trying to hurry because I wanted to be there when she woke up. Ideally, I could wake her sweetly, and then maybe she’d let me eat her out because that part was a dream, and I was aiming to rectify that for both of us.
I climbed back in bed, not having bothered with clothes since we were alone in the Bunker, at least for now. I set the cup aside and kissed her shoulder and back again. Featherlight and worshipful, I brought her to wakefulness.
“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” I greeted as her eyes opened.
I sat back, sipping coffee. She sat up next to me with a soft greeting and accepted the mug when offered. She had moved the blankets to keep herself covered, but I could see over her neck and chest where I’d marked her good. I hadn’t meant to; I didn’t even realize I was doing it. But seeing them in different shades and sizes only turned me on.
She returned the cup to me, and I mindlessly put it on the nightstand. I kissed her, eager to show how happy I was, to reinforce that it was real and reciprocated.
Pulling the covers back to expose us, I thumbed at her nipples, finding them already hard. I ignored the throbbing of my cock, and I lowered myself between her thighs. She was already a little wet, and I was desperate to have her slick coat my tongue. I wasted no time as I dove in, making out with her pussy, tasting every bit of her, mapping and testing her creases and folds.
Her hands ran through my hair, and her thighs clamped around my head. Her moans and pleas had me impossibly hard. I rutted against the bed as I slid two fingers inside her, sucking her clit hard between my lips. Her voice hitched, and her body tensed, so I doubled my efforts. She shattered, and I removed my fingers to delve my tongue deep inside, gulping down her release and savoring her tangy flavor.
I came onto the sheets with a muffled grunt as I wrung every ounce of her orgasm from her. When she relaxed with a sigh, I kissed up her body, elated and aroused as she kissed me deep and sucked at my tongue.
I pulled back to look at her - at this incredible woman who loved me and was willing to give herself to me. She ran her hand from my brow to my jaw, her eyes following the touch, a soft smile on her lips as she met my eyes. It felt incredibly intimate, and I laid my head on her chest, my body pressing into her. I was hiding from the onslaught of emotions she was creating inside me.
Her arms wrapped around my shoulders, and one hand moved to run her nails over my scalp softly. I sighed and relaxed, taking the much-needed comfort she offered.
This was the part I always missed out on. It's always awkward mornings or quick goodbyes. With Y/N, I could stay, linger, and accept the peace and comfort I was always denied. I may have dozed off lying on her, but she never moved, her hands and nails soothing and relaxing me. 
God, I hoped it would always be like this. To be safe and loved in someone’s arms.
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fandomrose · 5 months
Text
Sunday - Love Hypnosis
Sunday hypnotises you (consensually) to relax you.
No spoilers.
No description of reader or readers troubles so project what you are personally struggling with as you see fit.
No angst just fluff. I thought this concept would be cute. I've seen many a yandere Sunday hypnotises you, and that's great but consider - consent and fluff.
(This isn't a jab, I too enjoy a yandere fic from time to time but I also want to see fluff and I haven't seen this done in a fluffy way yet.)
I don't know why I'm mildly obsessed with this man but I am. (Cough Cough, I read maximum ride as a kid and now I automatically fall in love with winged characters. Cough Cough.) I need him to hypnotise me please and thank you.
(I have a few fics in the works that I need to finish but I'm struggling.)
As usual enjoy. Love ya 💙
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"Darling?" Came the light and airy tone of your beloved. Though there was a hint of worry in his voice as he took in your face down, slumped form. "Are you alright?"
He could tell very well that you were not alright. But he would coax an answer out of you one way or another. Though the only answer he received was a groan.
"Darling." He sighs but chuckles at your obviously aggravated self. "Allow me to help you." 
Your body goes limp as you let him move you from a sofa to your shared bed. "My darling. Tell me what's gotten into you."
He chuckles as you groan out a single word relating to your issues. "Life."
"Oh, my darling. You'll let me soothe you for the night won't you?" He only felt it was right after the many nights you had soothed him. 
Patient, kind, understanding. Three words that when asked by others what you think about each other, you'd both say about each other. A pure give and take without a scoreboard, that's how you operated. You were both busy or stressed for one reason or another so that's how things had to be.
The simple love you shared was enough most days but sometimes things went wrong.
Sunday had performed hypnosis on you before so he knew it worked but he'd never engage unless you agreed. You knew the question he asked meant he wanted to soothe you via hypnosis, and with the state of your mind you would happily agree. 
"Please do." 
He wouldn't offer if he didn't have the energy you knew this, a rather large argument took care of that when he'd overworked himself then passed out after hypnotising you once and a medic had to be rushed in. Needless to say, you weren't happy with his carelessness. And seeing how upset you were he agreed to be more careful with his health.
You didn't want to think anymore so as you lay there looking up at him with your tired eyes and weary mind, he smiles. He caresses your face and hair before taking a deep breath and reciting that familiar chant.
"Oh triple faced soul, allow me to take hold of this one's mind and soothe them of all worries and burdens. The word Beloved will be the catalyst for control."
With that simple incantation your mind belonged to Sunday for a short while. Your mind felt fuzzy and slow but not unpleasantly, the way it would when you achieved complete relaxation. 
Like he had done before, he would take you through your nightly routine with this hypnosis.
"Beloved, follow me to to the bathroom." He helped you up while your body automatically followed his words and stood up. 
Walking was about the most complex task you could complete, he wasn't Xipe Themself, so his power only went so far. 
"Beloved, lift your arms." 
You do as told and he aids in stripping you, ready to be cleaned. 
"Beloved, sit on this stool and close your eyes." 
You again do as told his voice muffled through the layers of hypnosis, but soothing nonetheless. "I am going to wash your face first darling." He always narrates what he does before doing it as not to startle you.
You felt a cool, wet, cloth glide over your face and you can't help but sigh with satisfaction. You feel it gently caress your cheeks and softly rub your eyes tickle behind your ears. You hear the cloth being rinsed and wrung, the muffled sounds of the water soothing you further.
"I am going to wash your upper body now darling." And, as before, you feel the damp cloth glide over your neck and upper body, letting him move you has he sees fit. Soft humming coming from him lulls you deeper into his hypnosis. The cloth glides down and caresses your chest before moving to wash your back. You'd make sounds of relaxed satisfaction if you could but your exhausted body coupled with the hypnosis has made your brain devoid of any thought or control. Just how you want it. 
He moves back to the front of you with a new cloth. "Beloved, spread your legs, I need to clean you." 
Your body complies without hesitation and that's what he does, making sure to be extra gentle around this sensitive area. He is thorough but doesn't linger long this time, not wanting to spark anything in you this evening.
Standing to switch the cloth again, "I'm going to wash your legs and feet now darling." Still being as gentle as ever his hands and the cloth slowly makes their way down your legs massaging them as they go. A light massage is given to your feet as well before he finishes and pats you dry with a towel before he deems your body clean.
"Beloved, open your mouth wide." 
He orders next, your mind too fuzzy to think of what else could be doing. You hear more water then feel a hand on your chin. "I'm going to brush your teeth darling." Then light scrubbing of your teeth and tongue can be felt, he is thorough with this area too. Not wanting to be the reason you have cavities he takes his time. Not too long later he finishes with you. You can hear things being put away and muffled sounds of him walking around you, maybe inspecting you. Before he stops in front and, 
"Beloved, open your eyes and stand up. Its time to go to bed."
You're led back into the bedroom now that he is satisfied that you are clean. "Beloved, are you ready to sleep?" 
Compelled to answer, you do. "yes"
"Beloved, do you want to sleep with me?"
"Yes"
"Good, let's get to sleep then shall we." 
The sounds of fabric and draws is all you hear for a moment before he guides you into bed with him. 
"Beloved, lay down." 
When he's satisfied you are comfortable You feel his soft skin against yours, the wings on his head lightly brushing your face in reverence before he pulls them back. It isn't often he blesses you with his naked body, the vulnerability gets to him at times. 
Once you've laid down and he's pulled you close he asked one more question.
"Beloved, are you ready to be released from hypnosis?"
"Yes"
As the words leave your lips he begins the incantation to remove his influence on your mind. 
"Oh triple faced soul, this one has completed this ones tasks and can now be freed from the shackles of my control with no burden."
Everything goes still as your senses return slowly, reacclimating you to reality. A few minutes pass of him softly stroking your head and neck while you come back to him.
"Thank you Sunday" a soft whisper conveying how grateful you are before you promptly pass out the exhaustion and relaxation hitting you full force as you melt into the bed and his arms.
"Oh my beloved, I'd do anything to see you happy and relaxed like this more often. I am grateful for all you do for me so it's only natural. I love you, so much my beloved."
He whispers to your sleeping self, pressing small kisses to your forehead, cheeks and nose. Watching the small twitches at the contact makes his evening and he feels like he too can finally relax.
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dawnoftime22 · 7 months
Text
thief.
| N.R
Warnings: None
Summary: When you go about making your meal for breakfast, it had mysteriously disappeared, leading to an obvious suspect of a redhead.
Word Count: 784
Category: fluff<3
A/N: I've missed writing fluff very very much and this was for @ncsdlr, inspired by their post of nat so here's a cute short little fic about it :]
| Started on 06/03/2024, 5:53 AM |
| Finished on 06/03/2024, 8:58 AM |
Main Masterlist | N.R Masterlist
“What's yours is mine, is it not?"
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You stood in the kitchen, making a delicious sandwich for breakfast and maybe even to enjoy later after training if you don't finish.
At the moment, you were alone up until Thor walks in, going off to the pantry cabinet, assumingly looking for a poptart or cereal for his morning breakfast.
You turn from your plate of sandwich, walking to the fridge and opening it to grab some water. But when you close it and go back to take a bite of your food, it had disappeared, only a few crumbs of the bread and the sauce you put a trace of evidence of your sandwich that once existed right there.
"What the...Where did my sandwich go?" Your voice was full of confusion and shock as you blink, staring at it. Then, you look around, and notice Thor first, standing in the kitchen with you.
"Thor," you say, your expression deadpanned, and he pops his head out from behind the cabinet door, his mouth open in the way you called his name. He hadn't done anything, and even just by the tone of your voice, he knew you were accusing him of something.
Then he notices your empty plate that had a delicious looking sandwich he once saw when he walked in. You couldn't have finished it in seconds. That's when he figured out why you looked a little ticked.
"I did no such thing! I have been standing right here, and my hands are empty." He gestured with his hands, his face in utter disbelief. Your eyebrows furrow further in thought.
"Who is it then?" You raised your hands, your eyes still focused on him. He grabs a box of pop tarts out from the cabinet, opening it to slide a packet out. He looks up at you before going to the microwave, but he stops in his tracks.
"Just make...another one." He pauses in between his words as he notices a redhead passing by, holding an oddly similar sandwich to yours, chewing carelessly. He was too afraid to point it out, knowing the assassin might just kill him if he does.
But you see his eyes following something behind you rather than looking directly at you, so you slowly turn to look at who was there.
A small gasp escapes you. Natasha, stood right beside your empty plate, having come from nowhere. She was staring right at you, holding the exact sandwich you had just made minutes ago, that had disappeared.
"Thief," you exclaim, walking closer to the kitchen island where she's at and putting your hand on it, holding yourself against it. She swallows before speaking up.
"It's not stealing if you left it there," she shrugs, the sandwich moving along with her hand, and you had to process her words for a moment until you let out a small laugh.
"That's the same thing." You tilt your head slightly as you said it, her sentence making no sense. If it was anyone else, you might have already chased them around the room already to retrieve your sandwich.
"Why didn't you just make one yourself?" Thor had left the kitchen by now, enjoying his pop tart by himself while you and Nat continued your playful conversation.
"It's not the same," she says, and at that, you shake your head. Her face was calm, but her eyes held a hint of teasing.
"Well, then, you could have just asked," you mumble. Nat stays quiet, studying your face. She could have just asked, but she also loved poking at you for fun.
"Now I need to make another one." You complained as you pick up your plate, about to go grab the loaf of bread once again while your stomach complained at the late breakfast.
"You can have it back." She holds out the sandwich to you, even though it was clear she had already eaten more than you thought she had.
"No, you've already had a bite of it, keep it." Or more so, multiple bites. You wave your free hand that wasn't holding the plate dismissively, not minding since it was well...Nat, but you were a tinge upset.
She sees the adorable pout your face held, and a small smile tugs at the corners of her lips.
"I'll make one for you, how's that?" Nat stands up from the barstool standing tall for the kitchen island, moving to the counters to grab the ingredients. When she turns her head to look over her shoulder, she takes your smile as an acceptance.
Later on, the two of you enjoyed your sandwiches that you had, one being 'accidentally' made for the other, and one being especially made for the other.
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lostgirlmuseum · 1 year
Text
The Signal
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Made this using images from Pinterest ^ Word Count: 6.1k 
Pairing: Bucky x f!reader
Summary: You and Bucky get separated from the team after an unfortunate mishap, of which Bucky blames you. Except you’re not at fault! You thought… you aren’t too sure anymore.
A/N: Thank you all so much for all of the positivity on my first fic, I am actually BLOWN AWAY. You are all so kind!! I actually started writing this all the way back in February of 2022, but seeing the response gave me the motivation to finally finish it. 
Warnings: Nothing absolutely horrible, just a bit of angst and fluff(?), plus a little gaslighting and violence.
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“Everything is going to be okay. We’re fine. Everything is fine. Everything–” She repeated the mantra over and over again, not quite believing it.
“Will you shut up?” Bucky growled. 
Only an hour prior had both of them been sneaking through a dense forest and scoping out a running ex-HYDRA base deep in the frozen woods. Steve, Bucky, Natasha, Sam, and Y/N were used to missions like this, except this one required a higher level of subtlety and a successful sneak attack was critical. Their intel informed them that the base was rigged to blow if any unrecognized technology was detected, including any disturbances in the radio waves. Because of this, they all turned off their communications signals once they approached the range of the base. At least, they were supposed to.
“I’m just trying to keep myself from freaking out.” She grumbled, slightly trailing behind Bucky as they crunched through the brittle layer of snow.
“Why? You should be freaking out. You should very much be freaking out right now. Considering we’re stranded in the middle of nowhere, with no connection to anyone who can help, and I’m stuck with you.” He recognized he was being cruel, but he didn’t have the strength to stop.
“It wasn’t my fault!” 
“The sooner you stop lying to yourself, the better.” Bucky responded without even looking over his shoulder. He hadn’t looked at her for the majority of their trek to the nearest safe house since they got separated from the rest of the group by the explosion.
“This is not my damn fault! I turned off my signal, just like Steve told us to.” She struggled to keep up with him, but she wouldn’t tell him that. She couldn’t show him any weakness–he’d just use it against her.
“Except you didn’t!”
“How are you so sure it was me? There were five of us!” She awkwardly jogged to get a bit ahead of him, and turned around to face him as she walked backward. “What makes you think it wasn’t you?”
“Please, like I would ever be so careless.” His gaze remained on the terrain ahead, and it looked like the trees of the woods were starting to thin out, signaling an exit soon.
“And I would?”
“Yes! Yes, you would. I knew from the start it was a bad idea to take you along. You can’t even follow simple instructions like turning off a signal.” He managed to pass her again, leaving her to struggle to stay next to him. He saw out of the corner of his eye her pointing a finger at him.
“I’m trying really hard not to take your attitude personally. You’ve been acting like a dick for the past week, but I’m sick of it.”
“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” 
“Don’t call me that.”
“Sweetheart?” He finally glanced at her. 
“Yes.”
“Why? Is it reserved for Steve?” Bucky’s eyes quickly returned to the path in front of him.
“What are you on about?” Genuine confusion laced her voice, but her question went unanswered as they reached a block in their path. 
“Y’know your genius safe house plan?” Bucky gestured to the map balled up in her hand, the thing they had been using to guide them to safety. “Well, looks like we’re here.”
“This can’t be right,” she shook her head, quickly unfolding the map, “maybe we got turned around.”
“Just look up.” 
She followed Bucky’s gaze to the sky, at which she finally realized the ridiculousness of their situation. They were stranded at the bottom of a steep cliff, which looked to stand nearly a hundred feet in the sky.
“You’ve got to be kidding.” Because who the fuck puts a safe house on top of a cliff? “There’s got to be an elevator or something, there’s no way we’re expected to climb this.”
They both scanned the base of the cliff, looking for any indication of a secret passage to the top. She ran her hand along the jagged rock and ice, and bit her bottom lip as she concentrated on the wall, eventually spotting a thick rope among a couple vines. 
“Shit.” 
Her voice gained Bucky’s attention, and he looked over to see her holding not one, but two ropes, each attached to a relatively large weaved basket. It wasn’t quite big enough for the two of them, but one person could definitely fit. 
“After you,” he mocked, gesturing to the basket that was meant to work as a (sketchy as hell) pulley system.
Instead of answering, she merely pointed to the inside of the damp basket. Bucky peered his head over to see the bottom had completely fallen apart, leaving a gaping hole where a person would supposedly stand. 
“Looks like we’re climbing.” Bucky sighed.
“I can’t–” 
“Afraid of heights?” He snapped.
“No, but–” 
“Good. Then there shouldn’t be a problem.” 
He grabbed a knife from his belt and efficiently cut both sides of the rope from the basket. She watched, dumbfounded, as he took one rope and tied it around his waist. Then, he gave the rope a hard tug, and satisfied by the lack of give, turned to his belt and grabbed three more knives. He grabbed duct tape out of his tac pants, and expertly taped one knife to the bottom of each shoe. Finally, he tossed her the duct tape, knowing she already had her own knives. She watched both impressed and annoyed as he firmly stuck his feet as best he could into the ice and rock of the cliff, and used the other knives in his hands as leverage.
He made it about ten feet up before glancing back down to see she hadn’t moved.
“Are you coming or what?” The impatience of his voice stung almost as much as the cold did her nose. 
She looked at him, then the rope, and then the knives attached to her legs, before making a move. Unlike Bucky, her combat boots came equipped with hidden spikes that could be used for climbing (although she had never used them for such activity, and normally used them as a treat when fighting, basking in the pride of catching her enemies off guard with a swift kick and metal spike to the face, groin, etc). She adjusted the spikes to be poking out of the toe of her boots, and tried not to think as she grabbed the second rope and knotted it around her waist. 
Ignoring her left hand, she grabbed only one knife opposed to Bucky’s two, and stabbed it into the ice. She cautiously looked down at her feet as she began her climb, and looked back up at her hand as she found purchase a foot above her head. Already exhausted from the fighting and explosion earlier, she winced at the tension in her right arm as she pulled herself up. 
At the slow pace she was going, Bucky was already 15 feet in the air by the time she was 3 feet off the ground.
Bucky looked down to see her far behind, and raised an eyebrow when he saw her climbing with only one hand.
“You’re supposed to use both hands, you know?” He mocked.
She rolled her eyes, but said nothing, as she let her left hand join her right hand on the handle of the knife protruding from the rock. Bucky noticed her silent grimace as she successfully pulled herself up to the next level. He continued to watch as she stiffly removed her right foot from the wall and placed it above her left foot, before once again grabbing the single knife with both her hands and pulling for a second before letting out an agonizing cry.
Out of curiosity more than frustration, he called down.
“What’s going on down there?” 
She briefly looked up at him before looking back at the ground, “I can’t climb.”
“Missed the training day on it?” 
His sarcasm went unappreciated as she growled.
“My wrist is broken, asshole.”
Her wrist is broken, and she’s climbing? What is she thinking?
“And you’re still trying to climb? You should’ve told me.” 
“I fucking tried telling you! But everytime I try to say something, you interrupt me! Constantly! Besides, what’s the point in telling you if you’re just going to brush it off?”
Bucky swiftly removed the knives in his hands from the cliff, and held onto his rope, before half-hopping and half-climbing down the wall to the ground.
“Bucky, just go,” she sighed, “I’ll figure something else out. I’m not going to be a burden on you.”
She said it in part because, yes, she didn’t want to burden him, but also because she didn’t want to hear his whiny complaints.
He ignored her protests and gently reached for her left hand, inspecting the incredibly swollen wrist. He winced at her soft whimper. He let go and simply looked at her.
“Hop down.” 
She didn’t like that he was ordering her around, but his voice was void of any emotion, and out of curiosity and self preservation skills, she obeyed.
“C’mon.” Bucky turned around so his back faced her.
After a couple moments of silence, he looked over his shoulder to see her face twisted in confusion.
“C’mon now, just get on.” He repeated, squatting down a bit more. “You’re going to have to hold on tight.”
Ignoring the absurdity of the situation, she did her best to climb onto his back, at which point he gently grabbed her non-injured arm and wrapped it around his neck to encourage her to not be afraid to cling to him.
After what likely was about twenty minutes of climbing in utter silence, minus the whipping of the cool wind, Bucky made the mistake of looking down. The good news was that they were almost at the top–probably about a quarter of the climb left. The bad news was that meant that they had already climbed about 75 feet, and despite Bucky’s fearless persona, he was not fearless.
“Fuck.” He whispered.
“What’s wrong?” She rested her chin on his right shoulder.
“Nothing… I just didn’t realize how high up we were.” He grimaced the moment he said it. He’d shown weakness. He’d given her ammo. “Gonna make fun of me now?” He started to shake just a little, and prayed that she would assume it was because of the cold and not his anxiety…even though it had been cold for the entirety of the climb.
“No.” She stated.
His head started to spin from the memories. He tried to push through it, but all he could think about was the first time he was this high up. It was as cold as this too. He felt as his left arm subconsciously twitched. 
The first time I was this high up, I still had two human arms.
A sweet voice interrupted his thoughts. 
“I think I can see the compound from here.” 
It was a stupid joke, but he couldn’t help but laugh a little.
“You know, I’m pretty scared of the ocean.” She continued.
He didn’t respond, unsure of where she was going with this. He continued to pull themselves up.
“Just deep water in general scares me. My brother always made fun of me for it.” 
Don’t look down, Bucky. Don’t look–
“One time when I was like–fifteen? I think? My family took a trip to this really big lake. We got on one of those pontoon boats and went out into the water.”
He was glad that she was so close to him, otherwise the whipping of the wind would’ve been too loud to hear her calming voice.
“My brother thought he was really funny, and told me to look over the edge of the boat while we were still in motion.”
He tried to grunt to indicate he was listening, but no noise came out.
“He pushed me right as my dad started speeding up. I fell in, and freaked out. Especially as I watched the boat leave me behind.”
He continued to listen to her and focused on her voice, and the vibrations. Her tone was casual, but he couldn’t help but sense she was telling him a secret.
“Luckily, my mom saw what happened, and got my dad to turn around.” She chuckled. “He claimed he was trying to help me get over my fear. But I got my revenge later that day, so it was fine.”
“What’d you do?” Bucky finally spoke up.
“Well, he’s afraid of peanut butter.” She tried to shrug, despite having one arm around his neck and the other hanging limply. 
“Do you mean allergic?”
“No, I mean afraid. The stuff freaks him out. He won’t go near it. He’s weird like that.” She sighed in remembrance, and continued.
“So once we got back to the house I grabbed some peanut butter, and slathered it into his hair when he wasn’t looking.”
Bucky looked up again and was surprised to see how close they were to the top. When did that happen?
“He screamed so loud–it was hilarious.” She smiled. “He ran to take a shower, flailing around and being dramatic. ‘Mom! She put peanut butter in my hair! My hair! Mommy, get it out!’” 
Worried that Bucky was judging her, she quickly added,
“He was seventeen at the time, by the way.”
Still no answer.
“I don’t think he’s forgiven me yet.” She whispered more to herself than Bucky, but he still nodded as he grabbed at the top of the cliff.
“We’re here.” Bucky didn’t mean for his voice to come across gruff, but the cold wasn’t helping his throat. 
“Thank you for carrying me.” She smiled once she had both feet on the ground. It didn’t reach her eyes, but he could still tell she meant it.
Slightly embarrassed, Bucky attempted to grumble out a ‘Thank you for distracting me,’ but he wasn’t sure she heard it.
Come on, you can do better than that Barnes. Just apologize to her, he thought.
“Listen, I know I’ve been acting like a–”
Bucky’s words were cut off by a mysterious and sudden mangled…shriek?
“Oh my God, Bucky.” She patted his arm to get him to turn around.
He obliged, and his eyes became saucers when he saw what had made the noise. 
At the top of the cliff was a partially snowy but also grassy plateau, inhabited by a herd of roaming goats. So, so many goats. 
“Look at all the goats!” She gasped.
Right as she had said it, one goat had snuck up to them and started biting at Bucky’s prosthetic. 
“Get off,” he quelled his shock and grumbled as he shook the animal off of his hand.
“Aw, it likes you.” She giggled, falling to her knees to pet the goat��more like ‘goats’, plural, because the animals seemed to multiply, and fast. 
“Let’s get inside. We need to fix that wrist.”
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Beside the disturbingly large population of goats, and the absurd location of the safe house, the house itself was fine. Well, it was shaped more like a barn, but it was decorated like a house. After coaxing Y/N away from the “adorable” (her words, not Bucky’s) goats, and inside, Bucky led Y/N to the forest green rug where he had started a fire in the fireplace. 
When he finished briefly looking around, Bucky grabbed some ice that had frozen outside the barn and wrapped it in a cloth from the kitchen. With her permission, Bucky carefully placed the ice pack where he saw the most bruising around her wrist. 
“So,” Bucky had settled himself across from her, so they could face each other as they talked. He couldn’t help the pang of sadness he felt as she stood up and backed away to sit on the couch.
She wouldn’t move away if I were Steve, he thought, staring into the fire. They’d probably cuddle up together like they do on the couch during movie nights at the tower. 
Y/N didn’t want to move away from Bucky, especially now that he was being amicable again. But the heat from the flames was melting the ice that cradled her wrist, and she didn’t want to add ‘soggy’ to her list of problems.
“So?” She asked, noticing Bucky never finished his thought.
“I’m just thinking about the logistics of this. There’s a high possibility we could be stuck here anywhere from a week to a month. Your signal was fried in the blast too, right?”
She nodded, and released her right hand from holding the ice, letting it balance on her wrist, as she reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out her signal. Definitely fried. 
He pulled out his own signal from where he had kept it in his pants pocket, and showed her how it was crushed. “Well, without our signals, our team can’t track us. We just have to hope that they’ll figure out that we made it to a safe house, and that they don’t check this one last. Because I’m pretty sure there are at least two more safehouses dedicated to the vicinity of the Hydra base, right?”
She nodded. “We got unlucky with this one.”
“First thing we need to worry about,” he raised his eyebrows, trying to gain her attention, “is food. I looked at the kitchen pretty quickly and there’s not that much stuff stocked. A couple cans of beans, and such. Not nearly enough for how long we’re going to be here though. So unless we want to climb back down again, and see if we can find any food anywhere…”
She squinted and tilted her head as if she was a confused puppy.
“We’re going to have to kill a goat.” He finished.
Her eyes went comically wide. “I am not letting you kill Cheetoh!”
Bucky shook his head, exasperated, “You’ve already named them?”
❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️
The longer they were there, the worse the winds got. But that didn’t stop Bucky from hearing the strange overlap of whipping winds, leading him to lean into the noise from his spot on the couch. 
“Do you hear that?” Bucky nudged her.
“It sounds like the wind got a lot worse,” She nodded.
“No, something’s off.”
At Bucky’s concern, Y/N got up off the couch and beat him to the doors. She looked at Bucky, who stood directly behind her, before pushing hard to get the sliding door to budge. Instantly the biting cold attacked them again, and she had to place her right arm over her forehead to keep her hair from whipping into her eyes. Everything outside seemed to be an array of grays, until she was able to spot a shadowy figure emerge from the settling fog. A person appeared, as well as a helicopter.
“Sam?” She called, hoping her voice carried far enough to be heard above the wind.  
“Y/N! Bucky! Thank god you guys are okay,” Sam called back, and was quickly met by Y/N who had run the rest of the distance to meet him. Bucky was shortly behind. 
“I’ve never been so happy to see your face, Sam.” She giggled, setting her right hand appreciatively on his shoulder. 
Quickly spotting Steve exiting the chopper, Bucky hid a scowl as he watched Y/N light up and bound over to the bundled up blond, while calling, “Steve!” He wished he had looked away before seeing her pull him in for a hug.
Wanting to distance himself from the interaction, Bucky stood by Sam.
“How did you find us so fast?” Bucky shook his head, and raised his voice, as the wind started to pick up again. 
“My signal, man.” Sam yelled back, despite being three feet apart. 
“What?” Bucky wondered if he heard him right. 
Sam reached into the left pocket of Bucky’s under jacket, and pulled out a small familiar looking device. 
Bucky felt a punch to the gut as he suddenly remembered.
The group had just landed the quinjet deep into the forest. They couldn’t land too close to the base and risk setting off alarms, so they settled for a three mile hike away. Bucky and Sam were meant to approach from the north side, while Steve, Natasha, and Y/N planned to approach from the south side, so the group split off after the jet to take opposite round-a-bout paths. It was about two miles left to go when Sam started complaining. 
“Dude, does this thing actually fit in your ear?” Sam gestured to the communications device in his hand. “Because it keeps falling out. It’s getting on my nerves.”
Bucky gave a short grunt, which Sam translated to a ‘yes, it does fit in my ear.’
“I can’t,” Sam finally huffed, “I give up. I don’t have any pockets, can you hold this so I don’t lose it?” 
Simply wishing for Sam to shut up, he obliged, and shoved the tiny device into his pocket for safe keeping. Neither of them thought to turn it off first, because in their minds, and past experiences, it always stays turned on in the field. Excluding the moments when people turn them off in acts of defiance. 
About a mile later, both men heard a small rustling to their right. In hindsight, it was probably just a rabbit, but Sam suggested he go check it out, just in case. That’s what led to the two splitting up, but Bucky wasn’t worried. He knew that if there was a problem, Sam would’ve made it clear immediately. He also knew that Sam knew his way to the base all on his own. 
Bucky arrived at his location at the same time that Steve’s voice buzzed in his ear. At this point, the extra signal was long forgotten. 
“We’re in position.” Steve’s voice rattled. 
“10-4.” Bucky responded. 
“Alright, going dark now. Turn off your comms, let’s go.” 
Steve’s voice was followed by the soft beep of Bucky’s signal as he turned it off. 
He didn’t realize Sam’s signal was still active in his pocket.
“It was just bad luck dude, don’t feel too bad. I should’ve turned it off before I gave it to you, and I shouldn’t have assumed you’d turn it off yourself.” Sam tried to hide his pity with a half-smile.
“I–I was the leak?” Bucky whispered right as the wind started to calm again. He stared at the small device as Sam hid it in the pocket of his own coat. If only Sam had worn that on the way to the base.
“Yeah,” Sam said at a normal level now that the noise had nearly ceased, “but everyone’s safe now, that’s all that matters.” Sam reassuringly pat Bucky’s shoulder twice before looking back at Steve helping Y/N into the chopper.
Bucky let out a short hum, and focused on the ground. He wanted to crush that stupid little signal. He hated the way it made his chest feel tight, and his heart heavy with guilt. 
Sam’s voice interrupted Bucky’s thoughts.
“Those are a lot of goats, man.”
Before Bucky could respond, Steve appeared in front of them.
“Hey Buck,” Steve smiled, pulling him in for a quick hug, “I’m glad we found you so fast. Are you injured at all?” Steve pulled back to examine Bucky’s form.
“No, I’m fine,” Bucky swiftly assured, before feeling the throbbing of guilt consume him again, “but Y/N’s wrist is broken.”
“Don’t worry, I know. I already told her I’d take her straight to medical once we get back. Speaking of, we should get going.”
“Right.” 
❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️
Three hours later, the group made it back to New York. As the ramp lowered, Bucky quietly pulled Steve aside.
“I can walk Y/N to med.” He nodded to where she was sitting, staring off into space.
“You sure?” Steve struggled to hide the surprise in his voice.
“Yeah.” Bucky nodded.
“Okay.”
Bucky gave his friend a firm pat on the shoulder before sauntering toward Y/N, who remained in her seat.
“Come on, Y/N.” He held out his right hand, offering her to take it.
“Huh?” She blinked twice, and stared up at him, eyebrows scrunched.
“I’m walking you to med.” 
“Oh. Okay.” She paused for a moment before standing up. “So much for being stuck for months.”
“Yeah, I guess that calculation was a bit off.”
“I’m just glad we’re back home. And that you didn’t need to kill any goats.”
“I was going to leave Cheetoh alone.”
“I don’t know if I believe you.”
The rest of their walk was relatively short, but silent, until they reached the doors of Dr. Cho. Bucky didn’t get a chance to say goodbye, as Dr. Cho was given a heads up to Y/N’s injury, and already whisked her away.
Bucky rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet for a minute, until he decided it would be uncomfortable for all parties involved if he stayed. He knew she’d be alright, he convinced himself, so there was no need to be in the way.
❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️
A couple of the Avengers found themselves mentally recovering in the lounge, waiting for Y/N to get out of her evaluation.
“She’ll probably be out for two months. Broken wrist and all that.” Steve relayed, taking a seat on the couch.
“Two months?” Sam repeated, looking up from his bag of chips.
“I think she’s pretty bummed, so try not to mention it.”
As if on cue, Y/N entered the room.
“Hey guys,” she smiled, waving with the arm that wasn’t in a cast.
“Hey Hon. How’s the wrist?”
“Really, Tony?” Natasha glared at him.
“What?” He feigned innocence, throwing his hands in the air.
“It’s fine guys. It doesn’t hurt that bad, I’m more embarrassed than anything.” 
“Embarrassed by what? I think that cast makes you look tough.” Sam added, doing his best to cheer others up as always. “And hey, you and Bucky can be twins now.”
“Yeah, kinda. Look at that Buck!” She lifted her left arm in the direction of Bucky, who had been silently brooding in the corner. The bulk could be seen under the fabric of her hoodie, but she felt the need to emphasize the point by taking the pullover off.
She first tried tugging the sleeve off her cast, but it was a bit too snug. After a couple more moments of failing, she switched tactics to just pulling off the hoodie from over her head, but that got her stuck in an awkward position too.
After a second too long of borderline uncomfortable silence and shuffling, Steve spoke up.
“Do you want help with that?”
“Nope, I got it. Just gimme- a second…” 
Somehow she had gotten the garment twisted around her right arm and upper body.
“Hon, just let us-” Tony started, but was quickly cut off.
“You know what? It’s suddenly cold again. There’s a weird draft over here.” Y/N quickly tugged the hoodie back down and gave a weary smile. “I’m going to go to my room.”
She ran off before anyone could offer an opinion. Unsurprisingly, Steve was the first to speak.
“I’m going to go check on her.”
❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️
A soft knock came to her door.
“Come in.”
“Hey, Y/N.” Steve gave a sympathetic smile as he gently closed the door behind him.
“Hi Steve, what’s up?” She looked fine, but he could hear the strain in her voice.
“Nothing, I just wanted to make sure you were alright.” He stood in front of where she sat at the edge of the bed.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I just got a little frustrated, it’s no big deal.” She shrugged it off, avoiding his eye line.
“It’s okay to feel frustrated.” 
“I know. I shouldn’t though. It’s my fault, anyways.”
“How so?”
She cast her gaze to the floor and swept a hand through her hair.
“Well, I think the whole reason we were ambushed was because of me.”
“What? Why would you say that?”
She took a deep breath.
“After Bucky and I got stranded after the attack, I was sure it wasn’t my fault. But then he started saying things, and they were mean… but he was also right. I started second guessing myself, and I thought about it. I mean, out of all of us, I’m the newest. And I was so sure that I turned my signal off…but now I don’t know. I can’t remember. And if it really is my fault they found us, then it’s my fault that fight happened, and it’s my own doing that this—” she pointed to her cast, “happened. I just feel stupid.”
“You weren’t the leak, Y/N.”
“What?”
“It was an accident. Bucky was carrying an extra signal, and no one thought to turn it off.”
“Bucky?” She looked bewildered, shaking her head at this fact.
“Yes.”
“Does he know?”
“Um…I’m not sure. I didn’t tell him. We never had a proper briefing after the chaos derailed our schedule when we got back.”
“I have to go find him.” Her shock turned to a quiet determination of which Steve decided not to push her on.
“Y/N?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you still want your hoodie off?”
“Yes please.”
❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️
“Buck, wait up!”
Bucky slowed his jog around the track to a stop when he heard her voice.
“Y/N?”
“Hey.” She gave him a sweet smile once she caught up, one he felt undeserving of.
“Is there something you need?” 
“No. I just had to tell you something.”
“I’m listening.” He nodded, crossing his arms. He didn’t mean it in a defensive way, it just happened.
“First of all, you should know it’s not your fault.”
“What?” 
“I just found out how we got ambushed, and I figured I should tell you.”
“Oh.” He fought the urge to look away.
“Sam gave you his signal, right? But it was never turned off. It was just an accident. But I needed to tell you, because I know you’re going to blame yourself when they tell everyone at the briefing.” Her concerned tone and eyes met him for the briefest second before he wiped his hands down his face.
“I feel like an asshole.”
“No, please don’t.” She softly touched his elbow.
“I’m going to be honest Y/N, I thought you were going to take it a lot worse.”
“What do you mean?”
“When you found out that it was me. I was worried you were going to get really mad.”
“Wait, you already knew?”
“Yeah? Sam told me right when he found us…I thought you knew I knew, isn’t that why you just told me all that?”
“I thought you didn’t know. I wanted to be the one to tell you before the briefing, to tell you not to worry about it, because I knew you’d take it hard. But–but you already knew?”
Bucky just stared, jaw dropped at a loss for words.
“And–” She scoffed, “—and you didn’t tell me?!”
“Y/N, I-” 
“Don’t ‘Y/N’, me! You—you, jerk! I can’t believe you knew all this time that you were the leak, and after belittling me and convincing me it was my fault, you didn’t tell me the truth!” She laughed in disbelief. “You selfish, cold-hearted, dickhead!”
He wasn’t sure what to say, but it didn’t matter, because she kept going.
“I’m stuck off missions for the next two months with a broken wrist, and you let me think it was my own doing! You made me feel like an idiot!”
“I was going to tell you—”
“When? After I was already told at the meeting? I can’t believe you!” She turned around briefly as if she couldn’t even face him, but quickly turned back. “To think I felt bad for you when I found out it was you who got us ambushed!”
With each insult she managed to get a little closer to him. So close, in fact, that Bucky was struggling to even comprehend what she was saying anymore. All he could think of was how close he was to her, how his hands were just itching to grab her waist. His head was nearly empty when he finally did carefully grab her and pull her closer to him. She paused her rampage to look up into his adoring eyes at his sudden movement.
“Bucky?” She whispered, a swirl of confusion and intrigue.
He replied by placing his lips gently on hers, feeling the warmth of her touch. She reciprocated, kissing him back for a couple seconds before bringing her hands to his chest to furiously push him away, followed by a swift slap to the face.
“Jeez-” The sudden change from bliss to reality was shocking.
“I can’t believe you James!” She yelled, her flustered look from both the kiss and her rage. “I can’t believe you just kissed me! I have a right to be angry, fuck you for thinking you can shut me up by locking my lips!”
‘Shit, I messed up,” he starts to think, about to spew apologies, when he gets cut off by her grasping his hoodie in her hand and pulling him back in for another kiss. The moment his shock subsides and he sinks back into the waves of her kiss, he’s just as abruptly taken from it, head dizzy as she parts from him just to slap him across the cheek again.
“Ow! What was that for?” He brings his hand to the sting. He’s so dazed and confused, a hurricane of thoughts and emotions all fighting for his attention.
“You make me so mad! I’m fuming right now! You are so selfish—”
She cuts herself off, pulling him in for another kiss, one that he’s still not prepared for. His frustration rising at her antics, he brings both hands to either side of her face and holds her steadily against him, resulting in their first kiss that lasted longer than five seconds. When he finally feels her about to let go for breath, he lets his lips leave hers, and continues to cradle her head, their foreheads resting against each other as they both gasp for breath. 
“You’re not going to slap me again, are you?” He carefully asks, looking into her eyes.
“No.” 
“You’re sure?”
“No.”
He laughs and slowly lets go of her.
“You okay?”
After a few seconds of silence, she responds with hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 
“I’ve already given you enough reason to hate me, I was sure that if you found out I was the leak, you’d finally hate me for good.”
“I don’t hate you Bucky. I always figured you kind of hated me. Lately you’ve been acting kind of like-”
“A dick, I know,” he nods. “And I’m sorry for that. Really, I am. It’s just-” Bucky’s voice seizes as she sees him look intensely at her mouth.
“It’s what?”
“Can I please kiss you again?”
She slowly nods, and allows Bucky to kiss her for the fourth time. It was fucking heaven to him. Regardless, he abruptly pulls back when a thought crosses his mind.
“Shit, what about Steve?”
“What about Steve?”
“Don’t you like each other?” 
She couldn’t help but think his concern was cute, the way he acted like he was talking about middle school crushes.
“Bucky, no,” she laughs, “Steve and I have just always been really good friends. You know, when people are nice to each other, and they like to hang around each other?”
“I just always thought that-”
“Never. He’s my friend. And I can guarantee you he feels the same as me.”
She lets him process the information, watching him nod to himself as if taking it in.
“Oh.”
“Are you jealous?” She smirks, giving him a flirty shove.
His cheeks go pink as he starts to stutter.
“Jea- jealous? No, not jealous. Just-”
Was he jealous? Was it emasculating to admit it? It doesn’t matter, he doesn’t care, he’s sick of lying.
“Okay, maybe I was a little bit jealous.” He mumbled, drawing his attention to a pebble on the ground that he was toeing. “So, you do like me, right?” 
She lifts his chin upwards and gives him the softest, sweetest, slowest peck. 
“Does that answer your question?” She flutters.
“I think so. But the slapping earlier was a bit confusing.” He teased.
“Sorry about that.”
“It’s alright, it was well deserved.”
“No, I still shouldn’t have hit you.” She said with certainty. “But I am still a little bit upset that you didn’t tell me.”
“Doll, I know I should’ve told you that you weren’t the leak. I wish–”
“No,” she shakes her head, “I’m upset you never told me how you felt about me. Instead you acted-”
“Like a dick, I know–”
“No, I was going to say like a child. But yeah, a dick, too.”
They just stood together for that moment, appreciating the start of something new. New, and beautiful, with a lot less animosity, and a lot more kisses.
A/N: If you’ve made it this far, thank you, thank you, thank you! I hope you liked it. If you feel like it, please lemme know your thoughts! I hope you have a peaceful day/night 💕
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reiderwriter · 1 year
Note
can i request a fic of pining spencer reid and bau!reader who are brushing up on some hand to hand combat and reader is really invested on winning finally pins spencer down and reader is straddling spencer and they are both like 😳😳
the rest of the bau and other fbi agents are on the side making varies bets about who wins maybe too? (eg that miss congeniality scene)
A/N: Thank you for the request and omg thank you so much for this one specifically - I loved this idea. I had to make Spencer competitive too, because 😊 I wanted to.
Word count: 1.8k words
Warnings: none! Just fluff, however if anyone wanted to send a follow up request wanting a part two where there is some smut I'd be 100% okay with that... Just if you wanted to.
Part two
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When Morgan told you that, after an unfortunate shoulder injury you received on the job, you’d have to take another training course to prove that you were up to being back in the field, you almost resigned on the spot. Passing the first time hadn’t been the easiest feat for you, and while you were confident in your skills in the field, you knew that you were, to put it kindly, athletically challenged. 
“There’s no way to get out of it? No exceptions they can make to allow me into the field?” You asked, desperate to avoid Morgan putting you through the ringer. 
“I’m sorry, sweet cheeks, but they’re worried about your ability to perform under pressure, so I gotta push you today, okay? You’re not alone, at least.” 
“I’m not?” you gave the man a questioning look as you followed him to the changing rooms reluctantly. 
“Nah, they pulled up Reid and Garcia as well, you’ll all be doing the work together today.” 
“What that’s ridiculous! Penelope isn’t even in the field and Reid has never passed one of these things.” You throw your bag down on a bench, and look ahead of you into the equipment room, and sure enough, there they are, looks of equal dissatisfaction spread across their faces. 
“You’re preaching to the choir here, sweet cheeks. You’re in good hands though, I’m not going to push you too hard today.” Somehow you didn’t believe that. 
–X–
An hour later you were flat on your back, panting harder than you had in months, dripping with sweat and feeling an ache in your bones that you hadn’t felt ever. Next to you on the ground, you could hear your fellow torturee’s moaning in pain, presumably doing their best to stay conscious. 
“You know, chocolate thunder, I love you, I really do, but you make it very, very hard sometimes,” Penelope squeaked out as the other man chuckled from above you. “God I’m not even asthmatic but I think I need an inhaler.” 
You chuckled at that and pushed yourself up to a seated position. 
“I think I am asthmatic.” Reid said form his position on your other side. You stole a glance at him quickly before blushing and looking away. You didn’t have a crush on him, or at least that was what you were telling yourself, but you did have a keen appreciation for how he looked in his button down shirts and FBI vests. His hair was shorter now than when you first met, and the longer parts stuck to his face with sweat. You were lucky that the strength had been all but zapped from your body because given the chance, you’d be pushing his hair out of his face for him and get lost in his eyes. 
“Come on, guys. You finished cardio, you finished weights, all you got left is some simple self defense drills. Think you can handle that?” Morgan laughed from above you. 
“No! I haven’t been able to handle any of this, what makes you think I can do more?” Reid moaned out on the floor next to you. You stood up, reluctantly, holding out a hand out to the man and helping to pull him to his feet. 
You underestimate the help he needed to get up, though and he has to catch you in his arms as soon as he’s up, as you stumble into him, legs too weak. You blush as the two of you stay uncomfortably close for a few seconds, only pulling apart when Morgan lets out a sharp cough. You jump back from each other then, and pray to god that no one else in the room saw the puppy dog eyes you were unintentionally shooting up at him. 
“Okay, so there’s three of you, so I’ll join in for these sparring drills. Any volunteers?” 
“To tangle my limbs with yours all hot and sweaty on the floor? Sweetie, I thought you’d never ask.” You hadn’t seen Penelope move so fast all day, though you knew she was only half joking. 
“Okay, so Y/L/N, Reid, you head over to that mat over there. You’re going to start a hand-to-hand combat simulation, whoever pins the other down first wins. We’ll do best of three, okay?” 
Reluctantly, you made your way to the mat he indicated to, knowing that you weren’t going to have as much fun as Penelope any time soon. 
“You’re going to start in a common self-defense scenario. Reid, you’re going to be the assailant, you’re going to come up on Y/L/N from behind, okay?” You nodded at Morgan’s words and turned yourself away from Reid, feeling his presence at your back already. 
“Is this really necessary?” He questioned from behind you, and you could practically feel Morgan’s answering look on your back. Finally, he rested a light hand on your shoulder, and your session started. 
You grabbed the hand on your shoulder and twisted it, and yourself, behind his back, gaining the upper hand quickly. 
“Y/N, come on. Take it easy, I’m exhausted. Just let me pin you and we can call it a day.” Reid said from in front of you and your ears burnt at his suggestion. 
“Wait, why would I let you pin me? I have the upper hand right now.” He huffed out a breath and twisted his body underneath your arm, catching you off-guard as he swept your legs from underneath you. Before you could fall all the way down, though, he grabbed you around your waist and held you in what you assumed looked like a ballroom dancing dip. 
“You were saying?” You desperately wanted to wipe that arrogant smirk off of his lips. “Actually, I have a few years more experience in the field than you, and I was probably beaten up a lot more in high school, so I wouldn’t be too upset about losing to me, okay?” 
You returned his smile sarcastically for a second, before lifting and swinging the heel of your foot into his knee, forcing him to hit the mat as you scrambled out of his grip and repositioned yourself behind him, pulling him arm behind his back a second time in an attempt to subdue him. 
“If you have so much experience getting your ass kicked, Spence, why don’t you just let me do it?” You enjoyed feeding his words back to him as he moaned out a little. 
“Because something tells me you’d enjoy it a little too much.” He somehow slips from your grip again, swiping your legs out from underneath you and climbing over you. The two of you struggle for a few seconds on the floor, but he has your legs pinned with his own, and he forces your hands above your head. Your heads are even with one another, and you’re both breathing heavily now. 
You decide to take another approach to get out of his hold this time. Rolling your hips up into his slightly, you let your eyes rake over his body above you. 
“You sure you’re not enjoying this just as much, Reid?” you shoot him an innocent enough smile, but you can see the flush staining his skin, and he loosens his hold on you just enough to allow you to wrap your legs around his waist and use your bosy weight as leverage to flip your positions. 
Now he’s on his back below you and you sit up in triumph, straddling his lap. His arms fight to get yours pinned to your side but you give back just as much as he is, and you can feel the crowd forming around you. He decides to fight dirty as well. 
“Thought you’d enjoy being under me more than you’d like being on top. I was being a gentleman,” he huffs out and manages to flip you over once more, pushing up and wrapping his legs up over your knees and forcing you onto your back. Your legs are now spread wide for him, his crotch pushed against yours, his arms gripping yours and pushing them firmly into the mat. You struggle a few more times but you know this is it. He’s got you. 
“What? Not even going to let my hands go to let me tap out?” you huff out, blowing a stray piece of hair out of your eyes. He pins both of your hands with one of his and gently tucks the hair behind your ear for you as you burn up under his touch, suddenly at a loss for words. 
“What, and let you try to tackle me again? Maybe if you ask nicely, I’ll let you go.” 
“Y/L/N, Reid, if you’re finished over there, you can grab a drink and start over. I did say this was going to be best of three.” Both of you suddenly snap your eyes up to Morgan, who has one raised eyebrow pointed at you. You realise that you’ve also drawn the attention of the other gym-goers and scramble away from each other to the sound of chuckles and wolf whistles. 
“Shit,” you run a hand through your hair and get in position to go again, this time swapping with Reid so you take the position of the unsub. 
From a distance, you don’t realise that Penelope and Morgan have completely given up on their own drills. 
“Twenty bucks says Reid gives in and kisses her first,” she whispers to her companion. 
“The kid? No way, he’s being too cocky for that. I reckon Y/N will do it to try and distract him first.” 
“I’ll take that bet,” Garcia says, and they settle back into watching the two of you, completely oblivious to the fact that you’re both enjoying sparring a little bit more than you normally would be. 
“When do you think I should tell them that they never needed to do this training session in the first place?” 
“Derek Morgan, if you are admitting right now that you made me walk through hell and back just so you could force these two beautiful idiots whom I love to recognise their feelings for each other then I am going to murder you and then bring you back to life so I can kiss you for being so smart.” 
“So I shouldn’t tell them?” 
“Take it to the grave, baby.” 
They turned their attention back to you, suddenly way more invested in how this was going to turn out.
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sunflower-lilac42 · 4 months
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𝘀𝗮𝗳𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 | 𝘩𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴 ♔
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➪ summary: after the first incident of her getting sick, her brothers are on high alert for when the time comes again. but what happens when they're all away and she gets sick when she's alone? | based on taylor swift's 'safe and sound'
➪ warnings: reader is sick, throwing up, blood, hospitals, swearing
➪ word count: 3.0k
➪ file type: song based fic
➪ sunny's notes: i have mixed feelings about this fic because... well if you know what happened with this you know what happened. i am extremely proud of it though especially because i wrote it in one night and the person who this is based off of absolutely loved it when i posted it the first time as well
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'I remember tears streaming down your face When I said I'll never let you go When all those shadows almost killed your light I remember you said don't leave me here along But all that's dead and gone and passed tonight'
She was five when she got severely sick the first time and she was terrified. She woke up feeling warm and cold at the same time, her throat was scratchy and dry, and her eyes were watery but she didn’t know if it was because she was scared or if it was just a reaction, and her energy was slim to nonexistent which was scared Ellen and Jim.
By now, their sons would’ve scooped the youngest child out of her bedroom and made their way downstairs to watch something on TV or just play with her. Yet, it was dead silent in the house. Ellen got up from the bed and peeked into each of her son’s rooms and was relieved to find that they were asleep still. 
She hoped the same for her daughter but when she walked into the room and saw her five-year-old in tears sitting on her bed, she rushed over.
“What’s wrong, honey?”
“Mommy!” She let out a loud cry alarming Jim and he came rushing in as well, not noticing the eldest Hughes child in tow. 
“Hey, sweetheart. I’m here, your brothers are still sleeping, let’s not wake them up. What’s wrong?”
“I don’t feel good.” She sniffled and quieted her voice.
Ellen picked her up and placed her daughter on her lap as she sat down, “Jim go get the-” 
Before she even finished, y/n leaned over and threw up, trying not to get it on Ellen, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, hon. Jim, go get the thermometer.”
Jim quickly walked out of the room, heading to the bathroom but got stopped as he ran into his son, “Quinn! Morning.”
“Dad, what’s wrong?”
“Your sister’s sick, it’s probably nothing.”
Quinn’s face went pale, “Is she okay? Does she have a fever? Is she throwing up?”
“Quinn! Calm down. I promise you, it’s probably just a little cold. You can go see her if you want, Mom is in there with her.”
Quinn walked into the room to see Ellen hugging y/n. He took one step and Ellen turned to him, “Hi, Quinn.”
“How is she?”
“It’s most likely just a cold. Y/n/n, look who’s here.” She directed her head to her son and pointed to him, “Quinny!”
She reached her arms out for him and Quinn gladly took her, placing her on his hip, “Hi baby bear.”
“I no feel good, Quinny.” Quinn nodded his head, “I know but we’re gonna make you feel better, okay?”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
Jim walked back into the room, placing the thermometer under the girl’s tongue. Seconds later it beeped and Jim took it out of her mount, “40.6/104”
The parents sigh and start to walk out, “Quinn if you don’t mind can you get her ready quickly, we’re gonna need to go to the hospital.”
Quinn nodded his head and he walked over to his sister’s closet, “Whatcha wanna wear, sweetheart?” Y/n lazily pointed to her brown bear sweatshirt and snuggled her head back into her brother’s chest. Quinn got her ready and sat her on her bed so he could put her shoes on. 
“Quinny?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“Are you going to leave me?”
“Of course, not y/n/n. I’m never going to let you go.”
Jack and Luke had both heard the rustling from outside their rooms and they both stepped out into the hallway, “What’s going on?”
Jack shrugged, “No clue, bro. I’m so tired.” The boy saw his sister’s door open and walked in there.
By now, Quinn was sitting on her bed and y/n was lying in his arms, “What’s going on?”
“She’s sick.” Jack and Luke immediately wake up at the news and rush over, spitting out questions left and right.
“She’s got a fever but that’s all I know right now. Mom and Dad are taking her to the hospital.”
“The hospital?!”
“I wanna go.” Luke protests just as their parents walk back into the room, fully dressed, “Oh, good morning you two.”
“Can we go with?”
“Guys, the three of you can’t come with.”
“Please, mommy.” Y/n’s little voice spoke up from her brother’s lap.
Ellen sighed, “Fine. But if you guys aren’t out there in five minutes, dressed, then we’re leaving without you.”
Ellen reached over and grabbed her daughter, the three of them heading out to the car to wait for their sons.
『••✎••』
In the hospital, Jim and Ellen were the only ones allowed to go back with her at least for now, and y/n let her voice be heard. She cried and cried until they relented and let one of them go back with the two. She reached for Quinn immediately and he nodded his head and followed behind his mom and sister, Jim staying with the other two. 
When they got home, the boys sat at the kitchen table as Jim tried to give y/n her medicine, “I don’t want to.”
“I know you don’t want to, honey, but you have to. Don’t you want to feel better?”
“Jacky.”
Jack’s head popped up from where he sat and looked at her, “Yeah?”
Y/n pointed to her medicine and then to Jack and glared, “You want Jack to give you your medicine?”
She nodded with purpose and Jim happily gave the medicine to his middle son, “All yours, Jack.”
Jack didn’t complain, it meant that she trusted him and he loved that feeling. Jack poured the liquid into the small cup to the correct fill line and put it near his sister’s mouth. She took it without a hassle and from the corner of his eyes he could see his father throw his hands up in defeat causing everyone to chuckle.
❛ ━━・❪ ❁ ❫ ・━━ ❜
'Just close your eyes, the sun is going down You'll be alright, no one can hurt you now Come morning light, you and I'll be safe and sound'
Later that night, y/n lay in bed by herself, looking at the wall. Her stomach hurt and she let out a barely audible whine. Luke, who happened to be walking by, heard it and peeked his head into the room, “You doing okay, baby bear?”
“No.”
Luke walked fully into the room and sat on his little sister’s bed, “What’s wrong?”
“Stomach. Will you stay with me?”
“Of course, I will.” Luke laid down next to her and she curled into him, “Thank you.”
Luke looked confused, “For what?”
“For making me feel safe. All three of you.”
Luke awed internally, trying not to let tears fall down his face, “No need to thank me for that.”
Five minutes passed and Jack and Quinn got down waiting for their brother, getting up to see where he was. When they saw him lying in y/n’s bed, they made their way over to them, “You guys okay?”
There was no answer as both of them had fallen asleep. Quinn told Jack to stay there as he walked out to grab some pillows and blankets and brought them back to him. The two made their makeshift beds on the ground and fell asleep not long after.
❛ ━━・❪ ❁ ❫ ・━━ ❜
‘Don't you dare look out your window, darling, everything's on fire The war outside our door keeps raging on Hold onto this lullaby even when the music's gone, gone
Just close your eyes, the sun is going down You'll be alright, no one can hurt you now Come morning light, you and I'll be safe and sound’
Ever since then, it was common that y/n had to go to the hospital. As the boys got older, they got more worried. They were busier, Quinn went to college and eventually, he and Jack made the NHL. Luke went off to college and this year he started his official rookie season with the Devils. 
However, it wasn’t as often that it happened when they were away, and if it did it wasn’t as bad as having to go to the hospital, just more or less the doctor’s office. They weren’t as worried about her when this happened, getting texts from either there or their parents and calling them to make sure she was okay.
This time was different. Ellen and Jim had run out to grab a few things for dinner and they left y/n at home alone, because she was 16 and was capable of being by herself. Yet, in hindsight, they probably shouldn't have. 
They had been gone for twenty minutes already and she thought they wouldn’t be much longer and she could hold on. But she couldn’t. Every couple of minutes it felt like she had a coughing attack, but this last one, blood came up with it. 
Wasting no time she dialed the first person that came up on her contacts, Luke. 
“Lukey.”
“Hey, y/n/n! What’s up?”
She was glad they didn’t have a game today, otherwise she’d be totally screwed. 
“Lukey, I’m scared.”
“You’re scared? Why? What’s wrong?” Luke stood up from his bed and made his way out of his room and towards Jack’s. 
He didn’t knock on the door before entering which left Jack to somewhat argue with him about knocking before entering, not that he was doing anything, but manners, you know? 
“It’s so bad. Really bad.”
“Well, where’s mom and dad? How bad are we talking?” Jack’s interest peaked at the mention of his parents and scrambled to sit next to his younger brother on his bed, motioning for him to put it on speaker. Luke pressed the button and pulled his phone away from his ear, waiting for the girl to talk. 
“They went out to grab-” She took a pause before coughing some more. Jack and Luke looked at each other worriedly, “Y/n?”
“Oh god. There’s more.”
“More what?” Jack inquired, nervousness settling at the bottom of his stomach, “More blood.”
The three were silent, y/n trying not to freak out and Jack and Luke trying not to freak her out. It was quiet for a couple of minutes before the oldest of the three-spoke up, “When are Mom and Dad going to be home?”
As soon as she went to say her answer the front door clicked and y/n rushed downstairs, “Dad! Mom!”
She threw her phone on the counter and Luke turned the volume all the way up in an effort to hear the conversation, “What? What’s wrong?”
“I threw up some blood.” 
“Oh my. Get in the car, I’ll meet you two there.” Jim rushed y/n to the car and Ellen ran around the house gathering a few things in case they were there for a while. 
Jack and Luke were freaking out, “Dad, what’s going on? Mom? Y/n?” Ellen spied her daughter’s phone on the counter and looked at it curiously seeing her son’s contact name on it, “Luke?”
“Mom, what is happening?”
“We’re taking her to the hospital. How long ago did she call you?”
“I don’t know like five minutes ago maybe?” Luke’s voice broke as he explained to his mom, Jack placing a hand on his back. 
“I want you to call, Quinn-”
“No!” Y/n interrupted her mom as she got into the passenger seat, “What do you mean no?”
“He has a game, please.”
“Honey, I think you are more important to him than the game. Let Luke and Jack call him.” Ellen’s voice was stern as Jim pulled out of the driveway.
“If you’re gonna call him, let me talk to him.”
Ellen, and the boys, went to protest but y/n’s face showed desperation, “Fine. We’ll call you two back when we have answers.”
“Don’t bother. We’re already packing.” 
As Ellen and y/n were squabbling, Jack ushered his younger brother to his room and told him to go back and he left his phone in his room. Jack pulled his suitcase out of his closet and was halfway finished packing when they acknowledged the two again.
“There’s no need-”
“You’re not winning this y/n/n. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”
Jack hung up and finished packing, meeting Luke and in ten minutes, they were on their way to the airport. 
Meanwhile, y/n had dialed Quinn’s contact, nervously chewing on her bottom lip. It was an hour before the game was supposed to start and she had no idea if he would actually answer or not, but to her luck, he did.
“Quinn.”
“Hey, y/n/n. What's up? Need help with some homework?”
“I’m going to the hospital.”
Quinn dropped his stick as he stood in the locker room, some of his teammates glancing at him worriedly, “What is it?”
“Same old, same old, but this-” Her sentence was interrupted by another coughing attack and Quinn could hear their mother telling her to take it easy in the background. 
“What do you mean it’s worse?” Quinn didn’t need her to finish the sentence for him to know what she meant.
Elias was standing next to him, a hand on his shoulder to ground him in case anything got out of hand, “I coughed up some blood.”
“You what?!” Quinn’s voice echoed through the clubhouse, “Quinn what’s wrong?”
The boy shushed his teammates, “Quinn, I’m probably fine-”
“If you’re coughing up blood you are not fine. Do Mom and Dad know? Do Jack and Luke?”
“Yes, Mom and Dad know, you idiot. Who do you think is taking me to the hospital? And yes the other two know, I already called them. I didn’t want to call you because you have a game.”
“I couldn’t care less about the game when my little sister calls and tells me she’s on the way to the hospital. Let me talk to coach, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Quinn, no-”
“Nope, la la la la. Blah blah blah. I’m coming. Give the phone to mom.”
“But-”
“No.”
Y/n reluctantly handed the phone to her mom but as she extended her hand, her arm dropped and the phone clattered to the ground. The only thing Quinn could hear was the faint yelling of his sister’s name from his mom. 
『••✎••』
Y/n was lying in the hospital bed when Jack and Luke watched the only show that was on this late at night, Family Feud. She was trying to answer but every time she went to speak she’d start coughing. The two ran in just as y/n’s previous coughing attack had subsided and she was now glaring at the TV because someone said a stupid answer.
“I said sex first, asshole. But no one wanted to listen to me.” 
“Glad to see you haven’t lost your sense of humor.”
“Jacky! Lu!” Y/n had a dopey smile on her face as she saw her brothers. They couldn’t tell if it was the drugs or if she was just being herself.
“Hey, baby bear. How you feeling?”
“Mom, can I swear?”
Jack laughed, “Aren’t you the one who just called someone an asshole?”
“Mom! Jack’s being mean.”
“Jack, stop torturing your sister and yes, y/n, you can swear.”
“I feel like shit.” Luke nodded, the only one who seemed to have sympathy for the girl right now, “What did the doctor say?”
“I don’t know, I wasn’t really listening.”
Ellen and Jim explained how it wasn’t a big thing and that she should be able to go home in a couple of hours or so. The two stayed with her until she was discharged and drove home with the three where Luke carried her upstairs to her room because she fell asleep on the way home. 
That’s where Quinn found them when he got there, Jack and Luke on either side of her in her bed as they watched the Game Show Network. One of the many stuffed animals that Quinn had gotten her wrapped in her arms against her chest. 
“Hey guys.”
“Quinn! You’re here.”
“Of course, I’m here. I couldn’t let those two take care of you.”
Jack and Luke feigned offense at the eldest child but Jack moved over so Quinn could sit where he previously was, knowing y/n always chose to be close to him when she was sick. 
“You doing okay?”
“Could be better, but I’m happy you’re here.”
“I’m never letting you go, none of us are.”
“Please don’t leave me.”
It was something the three had already talked about, they had already talked to their coaches and were scratched from their next couple of games because their sister needed him. 
Y/n spent the rest of the night surrounded by her brothers feeling safe and sound.
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⬂ 𝗛𝘂𝗴𝗵𝗲𝘀 𝗕𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗧𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ⬂
@zebraszegras | @ru-kru | @alwaysclassyeagle | @flowergirl1134 | @puckslxt | @ivy-34 | @kei943
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sincerestlove · 7 months
Text
Coming Home - R.R
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my first tumblr fic, ahhh!! i’m so excited to be sharing my work here. i am absolutely in love with reneé rapp <3
Pairing: Reneé Rapp x Reader
Warnings: Alludes to smut
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It was an ungodly hour in the morning when you heard the familiar jingle of keys in the front door. You had fallen asleep some hours before, reruns of The Office playing on the television. Groggily rubbing your eyes, you looked up to see your girlfriend, visibly tired, walking through the door. With a sigh, she shucked her coat on the hangar, kicked off her shoes and made her way towards you.
"Hey, Ne." You sleepily smiled at her, opening your arms for her to walk into.
"Hi, baby." She sighed again, diving head first into the warmth and comfort of your arms. She nuzzled her nose into your neck, slowly breathing in the fading scent of your perfume and shampoo.
You began running your fingers gently through her soft blonde hair, smiling at the way she immediately relaxed into your embrace. "Are you hungry? Have you eaten since you left this morning?" Already knowing the answer, you rolled your eyes when she shook her head no. "Okay beautiful, let's get some food in that tummy."
Coaxing the tired woman to sit up on the couch, you quickly made your way into the kitchen to grab the plate of food you made for her return home. Reneé smiled at you gratefully, her stomach growling on cue. "Thank you, Y/N, you're the best."  The blonde began to dig in, you laughing at the urgency of her movements.
"Slow down, babe. The food isn't going to run off of the plate." You grinned at her, the woman pausing to look at you sheepishly.
"Sorry. I'm hungrier than I thought." You waved teasingly, allowing her to finish her meal in silence, turning your attention to the television.
After a few minutes, Reneé returned her empty plate to the kitchen, stopping in the doorway of the living room on her way back. You looked up at her, brow raised. She leaned against the door frame smirking at you, arms crossed under her chest. Her eyes ran up and down your frame, taking in your appearance.
Just then, you took in what she was wearing, and your mouth went dry. She was clad in your favorite tank top, clinging to her in all the right places - hair tumbled loosely down her toned shoulders, slender fingers running up to push it out of her face.
"See something you like, Y/L/N?" She smirked at you, pushing off the frame and sauntering slowly towards you. Your brain short circuited then, mouth hanging open as the woman offered her hand to you, gesturing her head towards the bedroom. You nodded, sleep immediately forgotten, quickly taking her hand and allowing her to drag you to the bedroom you two shared.
Reneé shut the door behind you and gently pushed you against it all in a smooth motion. Your breath hitched in your throat, hands finding solace on her waist. "Are you too tired, Ne? We don't have to do anything tonight, you know?" You assured the woman, knowing how long and tiring her recording sessions have been recently.
She nuzzled into the space between your neck and shoulder, warm lips finding flushed skin. "Never too tired for you, honey. Get on the bed for me, hm?"
~ ~ ~
You weren't sure how much time had passed, but when you came back down from your numerous releases, Reneé was cleaning up between your legs with a warm towel, pressing soft kisses to your tummy. "How are you feeling, love?" She whispered, fingers coming to gently massage your lower back and thighs.
"Good. Yeah, good." You mumbled. Renée laughed, as you felt her cuddle in behind you, kissing the back of your neck and shoulders. She pulled the covers up over the both of you, nuzzling her face into your hair.  "This was supposed to be about you, y'know."
Your girlfriend laughed, rubbing your back soothingly. "You can always return the favor later. Sleep now, love."
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i hope you enjoyed! please leave me requests if you have any :)
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