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bbydoll18xx · 4 months ago

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She's Such a Good Girl (Part 3)

You get drunk off Paige, and confessions come out.

Paige Bueckers x reader

Word Count: 2k

Themes: mentions of self pleasure, idk thats really it i think, still prob 18+

Masterlist

Part 1 - You move in across the hall from Paige Bueckers. It doesn’t take long before she tries to shatter your innocent persona. And you just let her.

Part 2 - Paige continues her assault on your innocence, leading you to spiral.

A/N: sorry this took longer than expected lol but we got here (also i wrote this while watching Shrek LOL) Let me know what you think. If you want a part 4 let me know but i think 5 parts total would work!

Also I just wanted to say a huge thank you to everyone who commented/reached out regarding me talking about my struggles with my sexuality on part 2. You guys are so kind, and as someone who never really talks about my feelings, I appreciate you giving me an outlet to do so :)

Here we goooo

The music was pounding in a way that would typically give you a headache, and the way people at the bar couldn’t seem to mind their personal space usually would’ve pissed you off. But you were floating on a cloud from Paige’s touch and the drink you’ve been sipping all evening, and all thoughts of worry had vanished from your mind.

Your hips swayed in time with the music, moving in a way you did not think you were even capable of. You had done several things, though, the past few days that were completely out of character. You liked this new you. The newfound confidence was refreshing, leaving a satisfying tingle lingering on your skin.

Paige’s touch was fucking intoxicating, and in the moments since the electrifying kiss, the confidence you were feeling had grown substantially. Her hands had yet to leave your body, alternating between your hips and your waist, swaying alongside you as your butt grazes her pelvis.

She spins you around, so you’re face to face once more. You attempt to avoid glancing down at that plush bottom lip of hers, pink and glistening with the sparkly lip gloss you had reapplied early in the night, but to no avail. Her mouth beckoned to you, lips turned in a smirk that made your knees want to buckle, and you grabbed onto her waist to steady yourself.

The effects of the alcohol were palpable, and your inhibitions were nearly gone as you pulled Paige closer to you, desperately needing more. The tension was thick as you look up at her, batting your eyelashes with a coy look that had Paige’s stomach rolling with unquenchable want.

Little did you know, though, that the second Paige had seen you tonight, she knew she would have to have you. Your innocence was intriguing, and she knew you weren’t putting on a show.

Paige always had to be a little wary about who she was letting into her life. People were freaks, and she had been burned before by people trying to take advantage of her fame and her kind persona. But your own disposition, one of pure goodness, made her believe that things were going to be different this time.

“Hi,” you beamed, nose crinkling in a fond smile as you look up at Paige, who is unable to hold back a smile of her own.

“Hey, yourself,” she answers, enjoying the closeness that you were initiating, finally feeling more comfortable around her.

“Not that I have much to compare it to, but that was a really good kiss,” you mutter before even thinking about the words that were now leaving your mouth, and a blush blooms across your cheeks as you hear yourself.

“Think I need a reminder,” Paige says seductively, pulling you in by your belt loops to connect your lips in another searing kiss.

It was nearly impossible to hold back a moan from the pressure of her lips sliding across yours. And while the earlier kiss had been almost tentative, as if Paige was afraid to break you, this one was filled with unbridled passion and sheer want. Her tongue swipes across your bottom lip, causing you to slightly gasp, your mouth opening to invite her deeper into you.

It was raw, hands grabbing at her shirt to ground you, as you move your lips in unison with hers. Your belly is fluttering, and the neediness inside you ignites like a fire, the flames licking at your insides and sliding down to your most intimate area.

You had been horny before. You were a perfectly healthy college girl, but this was something new, and the irrepressible want was taking control over your carefully curated image you had worked so hard to maintain.

The two of you eventually pull away, chests heaving and heads spinning from lust and the alcohol.

“Yeah, definitely good,” Paige affirms, pecking your lips once more, and you giggle. “What did you mean when you said you didn’t have much to compare the kiss to,” she asks, her head cocked to the side cutely.

Oh fuck. She hadn’t let that slide.

“That…was my first real kiss,” you mumble, looking down at your feet, too embarrassed to look Paige in the eyes.

She moves her hand to your jaw, gently forcing you to meet her soft gaze. “Hey, no shame in that,” she says, stroking your cheek soothingly. You lean into her touch, getting drunk on it, and nod your head. Of course she understood.

She guides you away from the crowded dance floor, seeking solace in the less congested perimeter of the bar and she sits down beside you.

Her hand never leaves your soft skin, and she rubs small circles onto your flesh. Her next question has your cheeks flushing in embarrassment once more, blooming down your chest in a not-so-subtle display.

“So if that was your first kiss, I’m assuming you haven't done anything else?”

You shake your head, not trusting your words at the moment.

“That’s okay, baby,” she reassures you, her eyes boring into yours. “Have you just not met the right person or…” she trails, trying to gauge why a 21 year old as pretty as you was so inexperienced.

“I have a bit of a habit of liking people who are wildly unavailable,” you mutter, thinking back to your celebrity crushes and the wildly humiliating encounters with the football players at your high school.

“And I’ve always just been terrified of rejection. So it’s been easier to just keep to myself,” you explain. “But now I’m getting older, and the thought of dating when I’m so inexperienced makes me even more nervous.” You bow your head to avoid her gaze, playing with your bracelet to self-soothe.

Paige listens intensely, wheels turning in her head as she does so. “What if you had someone to walk you through it?” She asks.

Your head shoots up, eyes widening in surprise at her question, and your heart rate skyrockets.

What the hell was she even asking?

“Someone meaning…you?” You clarify, and she nods her head, a small smile stretching across her face.

“Why don't you think about it,” she says, not wanting to make you feel pressured. “And if you want to, you know where to find me,” she adds with a wink.

The rest of the girls of the team quickly flock over to join you and Paige, pulling you from your musings, and the night ends soon thereafter.

You had always prided yourself on being in control. You were in control of your grades. You controlled your environment to absolute perfection. And you certainly had control over your behavior and emotions.

That was until Paige Bueckers came into the equation and sent you absolutely fucking spiraling.

In less than 48 hours you had abandoned your previous stance of trying to remain rational and grounded, almost irritatingly logical in favor of floating on a mercurial high.

You had skipped through your door after being dropped off by Paige, the taste of her chapstick still lingering on your lips. And you were still riding that high a week later.

Your roommates took great pleasure in your recap of Saturday night’s events, and the look of glee never left your face as you recounted Paige’s intoxicating touches and the effects of her kisses.

You were programmed to be the tiniest bit cynical, though, so you had woken up Sunday morning, mentally preparing yourself to be let down easily by the tall blonde. You knew someone who was as adored as Paige had many options, so you were prepared for the worst. But it never came.

She had welcomed you into her circle with wide arms, and that was becoming even more glaringly obvious as you checked your phone after your night out. Drunk messages littered your home screen, and your heart soared at the outpouring love you felt from your new friends.

The week passes quickly as the new school year begins. The classwork is unrelenting, but it was a nice distraction. Your thoughts had been clouded with images of Paige’s eyes and her hands. You could close your eyes and almost smell her perfume, and you could nearly feel her touch, leaving goosebumps scatter across your sensitive skin.

You consider Paige’s proposal for the millionth time. Was it completely ridiculous to want to give in and do it? You were worried that the friendship you had built with Paige and her friends the past week would get ruined in the weirdness that would inevitably develop, yet the idea was so gloriously tempting.

Your mind floats back to the kisses you had shared last weekend, and a building ball of want stirs in your belly. You groan, flopping back into your mound of pillows, your hand resting on your bare stomach. You trail it lower, grazing over your panties, causing a jolt to run through you. Your hips stutter as your middle finger dances over your clit, experimenting with the pressure. You had dabbled in self-pleasure before, but typically avoided it out of embarrassment and a general lack of knowledge.

Pulling aside your panties, you run a few fingers through your folds, gathering your slick and carrying on with tight circles. Pressure starts to build before you hear your roommates outside your door, effectively killing the mood.

You sigh, pulling your shorts back on and head into your bathroom to wash your hands. As you dry them, you gaze at yourself in the mirror. You had decided.

Paige Bueckers was going to teach you everything you needed to know. And while the thought absolutely terrified you, the temptation of Paige’s touch gave way to any fears. You knew that you could not continue being the shy, timid girl forever, and someone who you liked actually liked you. The thought of remaining innocent and untouched any longer was nearly unbearable. So before you could talk yourself out of it, you send a quick text to Paige, letting her know that you had finally decided.

She quickly sends back an enthusiastic reply, sending a wave of butterflies through your belly in anticipation.

‘Of course, I will help! Aubrey will be gone tonight. Want to come over around 8?’

‘Sounds good :)’

Shit. Things just got real.

The day flies by, and before you know it, you are once more standing in front of Paige’s day, struggling to gather the courage to knock. You do so, hesitantly, and she wrenches the door open with a huge grin, pulling you into a hug.

“Are ya ready?” She questions, waggling her eyebrows at you to lighten your nervous mood, and she takes your hand, pulling to sit on the couch.

You sit down next to her, the warmth of her closeness clouding your senses. You bite your lip in anticipation and play with a lock of hair with your free hand.

“Hey,” she whispers, wanting you to meet her heated gaze. Her bright blue eyes were ablaze with desire and determination. “You still want to do this? We can go as slow as you want. You’re in control, baby,” she reassures, the tone of her voice lulling you into a calmer state of mind.

“Course I do, P,” you say, already moving forward to pull her in for a kiss.

Paige’s eyes widen at your sudden boldness before she smirks and pulls you in, meeting your lips with the delicious fervor you had grown accustomed to. She lets you take control this time, and as you reach up to cup her jaw, she lets out a quiet moan. It adds fuel to the fire, and you detach your lips to place hot, open-mouthed kisses down the base of her throat.

“Fuck, baby,” she mumbles hoarsly eyes still closed in pleasure. “Where’d you learn that?”

“Books,” you giggle, hands covering your mouth as you laugh at the hilarity of it.

She chuckles, shaking her head. “You gonna let me teach you all of my tricks now?” She asks smugly, fingers dancing across the exposed skin of your upper thigh.

“Please do,” you nearly whine, the build up leaving you breathless and needy, and Paige pulls you in, determined to show you the many benefits of being with an experienced woman.

And boy, were there a lot.

Thanks for reading I love you guys!!! Hope you enjoyed :)

xoxo katy

Part 4

Part 5

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #paige x reader #paige bueckers x you #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #uconn huskies

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ladykailitha · 10 months ago

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Staking My Claim Part 1

Hello! Because of my flu, I've been working on low stakes stuff to help with my foggy head. I promise this week to be back on to the WIPs I have going to be build up my backlog again.

This started off as a silly "let the boys be goofy" and turned into a "found family with ONE goofy moment in it". Sorry about that. I blame the cough medicine honestly.

***

Eddie and his friends were enjoying a rare night where they didn’t have to play at Cora’s Den in Indy when it happened.

Now, Cora’s Den wasn’t gay bar per se, but as it was one of the most inclusive places in Indy, the normies considered it one.

So when he came back from going to the bathroom he leaned into the center of their table so he could whisper. “Tell me that’s not Steve Harrington at the bar in a crop top and cutoffs.”

All three of his friends turned to the bar as one.

Gareth smacked his lips. “As much as I would love to, man, no can do.”

“And is he really flirting with that dude?” Eddie asked with a wince.

Jeff raised an eyebrow. “I’m seriously doubting that. Looks like Stevie could use a rescue.”

Eddie turned and looked over. Sure enough the guy that had been flirting with Steve had been replaced by a new guy. And one that didn’t look like he was getting the hint to fuck off.

“Go on,” Brian said. “You know you want to. He’s clearly got a thing for the guys and you might even get laid for the first time in months.”

Eddie nodded curtly and slapped the table. “Right.”

Steve was having a good time until this guy came along. He just wouldn’t take no for answer. He wasn’t looking to go home with anyone. His parents had just blown out of town again and Steve was looking for a way to blow off some steam. Relax after the last week of sheer exhaustion of dealing with them and their judgments. He usually went with Robin so that people would leave them alone. Only she had the late shift tonight and the early shift in the morning.

He was going to wait until the weekend when they could both go and have fun, but Robin insisted that he go, otherwise he’d be moping around Family Video all week. So he came out tonight, not really out to get drunk, or laid, just to have a good time.

This was not that.

Suddenly an unopened bottle of his favorite beer was being pressed into his hand as a warm arm wrapped around his waist.

“There you are, baby,” a soft voice cooed. “Sorry I’m late, work was a nightmare.”

Steve let himself relax into the man’s side. “I’m just glad you made it, Eds.”

Eddie grinned at him. “I swear old man Thacher is getting worse in his old age.”

Steve laughed. “I know, right? I went in for an oil change and he berated me for twenty minutes on why couldn’t I just do it myself.”

Eddie frowned. “Don’t you have a BMW that requires a special oil?”

Steve pursed his lips and nodded. “Yup!”

Eddie turned to look at the guy who was standing there with his mouth open. “Are you still here?”

The guy bristled. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but I was here first.”

“He’s my boyfriend,” Steve said, straightening up, but still remained plastered to Eddie’s side. “Eddie Munson. Lead singer and guitarist for Corroded Coffin. You know, the band that plays here every weekend?”

“Yup,” Eddie lied easily. “So where’s Birdie tonight? Working the late shift?”

“Ha!” the man snapped. “That’s not his friend’s name. His friend’s name is Robin! I knew you were a fake.”

Eddie blinked at him as if the man had grown three heads. “Robin Buckley. Robin is a bird. Bird plus Buckley, ergo Birdie. I have nicknames like that for all my friends. And any friend of Stevie’s is a friend of mine.”

Steve rubbed his nose along Eddie’s jaw affectionately. “And how did you know what her name was?” he asked, not even looking at the guy. “I don’t think I recall seeing you around before.”

The man’s face paled and he turned on his heel, storming off in a huff.

“Thanks for that,” he murmured into Eddie’s ear. “I’m usually pretty good at getting assholes to lay off, but he wouldn’t take no for answer.”

“Your inner mean girl couldn’t make him go away?” Eddie whistled. “That is persistent.”

Steve giggled. Then he blushed and looked down. That was when he remembered the drink in his hand. “So what’s with the unopened beer?”

“I didn’t want you to think I was another creep by bringing you an open bottle.”

Steve looked up at him and blinked a couple of times. “Wow, you really are my knight in leather armor tonight.”

Eddie took the bottle and popped it open with his bulky ring on his middle finger. “There you go.”

“That was so hot,” Steve said stupidly.

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “Duly noted.”

Steve was invited back to their table and had an absolute blast.

He was coming back from the bar with a couple of drinks in his hands when someone bumped into him, almost making him spill the drinks.

“Hey, watch it!” he hissed.

Immediately Eddie was at his side in an instant.

“You okay?” he asked taking a couple of the drinks from him.

“Yeah,” Steve groused. “Just some asshole not watching where he was going. I didn’t even get a drop on my shoes.”

Eddie snickered. “Yeah, okay. You and your jock reflexes.”

Steve leaned over and whispered, “I’m also very flexible in bed.”

“As in top or bottom or are we talking positions?” Eddie asked, running his tongue over his bottom lip slowly.

“Both.”

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “No need to go so hard, baby. I was already wanting to take you home with me tonight.”

“What about your friends?” Steve asked grinning back. “It sounded like you all share the apartment.”

“We have a signal for if we bring anyone back,” Eddie assured him. “Also we know to keep it down because the apartment walls are thin and not just inside the apartment.”

Steve’s mouth formed an O. “I got you.”

He knew there were pros and cons to living in an apartment. Having your neighbors that close were definitely a con.

“You still living at home?” Eddie asked as they made their way through the crowd.

Steve nodded. “Yeah. It’s not like my parents are ever there. Though it would just be my luck that they’d come home while I’m out the queerest bar in Indy.”

“Not a fan of queers?” he asked once they reached the table.

“They’re fans of Reagan,” Steve said with a grimace. “I’m pretty sure that automatically puts them on the opposing team.”

The entire table recoiled in sympathy.

“Fuck, that’s harsh!” Jeff said. “Thankfully my parents aren’t Reagan supporters, though they have raised many an eyebrow at Eddie here.”

Eddie face turned into a feral grin.

Brian shrugged. “My parents don’t care as long Eddie doesn’t shove it down their throats.”

Steve rolled his eyes. That old nugget. Walking down the street holding hands with someone of the same gender was shoving it down their throats as far as they were concerned.

Gareth looked at his friends wide eyed. “Um...sucks to be you guys I guess, but my parents adore Eddie, don’t mind him or I being gay and threatened to sue the school over the devil worshiping allegations about our D&D club. So...”

“Three cheers for the Hughes family!” Eddie said.

They all cheered and clanked their glasses together. They downed their drinks and roared with unrestrained joy.

Steve could feel a rush of blood around his ears. The room faded in and out and it sounded like Eddie and his friends were under water. He staggered off his stool and nearly stumbled to the floor.

Then the world went black.

***

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Also I'm not sure if this post canon or no monster AU. I can't decide, but it's ambiguous either way.

Permanent Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @vecnuthy @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @littlewildflowerkitten @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @irregular-child

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #tw drugging #corroded coffin

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notjustjavierpena · 1 year ago

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Hiii!!! Can you do some phone sex with dbf!joel? I’ve seen it around but I’d love your take on it 😈

Pillow

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: I love you, anon. This is so fun to write! Keep it coming.

Summary: Leaving for college after fucking your dad’s best friend a whole summer is sure to bring along some withdrawals symptoms.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut (MDNI!), pillow humping, f masturbation, daddy kink, phone sex, dirty talk, m masturbation, mutual masturbation, somehow also a bit of fluff

Word count: 2.3k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48953992

Pillow

Physically, Joel is annoyingly far away from you when you finally leave for college again, but in your mind, he is very much present all the time during classes. He floods your brain with filth, sweet nothings, a sudden memory of how it feels to kiss him and how his fingers feel inside you.

You miss him and it’s frustrating.

Frustrating to a degree that you haven’t quite experienced before, one that makes you want to say a naughty word just to see him drive across the country to tell you off. It must be withdrawal symptoms, you think, as a result of spending a whole summer being so close to him. Every day bouncing on his dick with his hand on your throat, able to see him, have him, whenever you wanted.

Yes, you have his number in your phone’s contacts, but so far all you have messaged him is that you’ve arrived safely, and his dry response of a simple smiling emoji and a thumbs up tells you that he is not the type to text regularly. You’re surprised he even knows how to use emoticons.

It’s Friday night after your first week back and you are alone in your room. The dormitories are quiet, empty of students who have gone out to celebrate the so far successful survival of being back to having their noses in the books again. Even your roommate has gone out despite her being notoriously known for staying in to read ahead. You wonder if something’s happened to her over the summer that’s changed her — just like you have changed from enthusiastic to filled with dread, unable to say why to anyone.

“Just don’t feel like going out to get hammered,” you’d said instead, head in your pillow as you had tried to hide your blues. Is this heartbreak?

Your face is still squished into your pillow, arms wrapped around it to feel something close to an embrace. All the other decorative ones have been thrown onto the floor. Your blanket has been discarded too since it’s still warm at night. You have one leg tucked under your body as you scroll mindlessly through your Instagram feed and watch stories of people in bars, singing loudly and drinking beer.

It’s been an hour since you texted Joel, the famous non-texter, that you missed him. The radio silence is driving you insane, even more so because you do not wish to be the person who demands constant attention.

But the text has sent your heartbeat skyrocketing. Yet the pulse isn’t just evident in your chest; it’s moved down south so quickly. You miss him, yes, but fuck, you miss his mouth, soft tongue on your clit, pads of his fingers rubbing against that little spot inside you that made you a believer. Though above all, you miss his cock that fits perfectly inside of your, now wet, cunt.

Eyeing the floor, your gaze falls upon your new silk pillow. It was a birthday present from your roommate, something about the silk covering being good for your hair’s health, but right now, it’s going to serve a greater purpose.

You snatch it from the floor and haul it onto the bed, impatiently getting onto your knees to pull your hoodie over your head, exposing your chest, and tug your underwear down to your knees. It’s not like you’re in a hurry since it’s still early, but you are too lazy to take your panties all the way off.

You consider getting up and locking the door for a moment, but you should be able to hear if your drunk roomie stumbles towards your shared room, so the need to get off wins over your laziness once again.

From previous experience, you bunch up the pillow how you like it. The silk is tricky since it’s smoother than your normal pillow, but you manage to straddle the fabric how you want it after holding it in place. It’s so soft and comfortable against your very sensitive skin, cooling against your wet heat.

You reach down between your legs to spread yourself open a little, letting out a soft sound as the bunched-up stuffing of the cushion settles right where you need it the most. Your heart is beating out your chest as you start rutting your pussy against the silk, seeking out some kind of disappearance act for the constant ache and dread in your body from being exposed to missing Joel fucking Miller.

You get lost in the sensation quickly. Warmth spreads across your chest as your breathing becomes heavier. Your sensitive clit throbs, earning friction that gets you humming in pleasure. If you close your eyes, you can almost feel his lips ghosting along your neck and you imagine that he is the one touching you between your legs, chest towards your back, and arm around your waist, so he can cup your mound and plunge two fingers into you. Your walls clench, a higher-pitched moan bouncing off the walls.

You grind harder against the pillow. Your thighs tense a little as you rock back and forth, cunt fluttering as you feel closer to the edge by the second. Oh, how you wish to have his face between your thighs right now. His warm, thick tongue fucking you open as his nose bumps against your swollen nub.

Your hips stutter. Not yet. You wonder if you could wait long enough for a reply. Probably not.

You move to get on your hands and knees, looking down between you and the pillow. There’s a stain on the silk, your arousal having seeped onto the fabric and made a darkened wet patch. Your cunt clenches once more, and another sticky drop of slick drips from you.

“Shit,” you moan quietly at the sight. You are about to reach for your phone to cheekily snap a photo of your mess to send to Joel, but before you can open the camera, a message from Joel ticks in.

You almost come at the mere sight of seeing his name on your phone. It’s still coded in as Joel (dad’s buddy). There’s no need to open it as you read it at the top of the screen.

I have some time. Can I call you? -JM.

You don’t reply. Instead, you call him without a second thought. The beeping sound of your phone ringing has you shivering, but he picks up on the third ring.

“Joel,” you breathe shakily into the receiver.

You hear Joel’s breath hitch in his throat at the tone of your voice. You imagine that he has tensed up since there’s a pause on the other end of the line. Then, “What're you doing?”

“Thinking about you.”

“What are you wearing?” From his tone, you can hear that it’s meant as a joke with a tinge of mockery too. You suppose that you deserve that, but you won’t let him get away with being snarky about this. He needs to know this isn’t just to get adventurous with him, but rather to relieve you of misery.

“Nothing, Daddy, I miss you… It hurts,” you pout despite him not being able to see.

“Where does it hurt?” He plays along. All mockery has vanished. He clears his throat, it sounds dry.

“My little pussy. She needs you,” you make sure your bed squeaks as you start moving on the pillow again. Joel is quiet except for a deep exhale as he listens. It has your head swimming once more in record time, clit throbbing impatiently as you’ve already edged yourself once.

“Fuck, baby. I can hear ya. Got anythin' between those pretty legs?”

“Not my hand,” you say truthfully. You put your phone on speaker to grip the edge of the pillow, snapping your hips forward in your seat.

“What then?”

“My pink silk pillow,” you moan softly as heat starts pooling below your navel again. You want him to join you, but you’re not going to ask.

“Jesus Christ,” Joel breathes deeply in through his nose, a half sigh and moan, “We’ve been apart for a week and you already do this. Gettin' out of hand, baby girl. Don’t ya think so?”

“I can’t function without your cock, Daddy” you feed his ego. It won’t harm anyone because you’ve found your statement to be absolutely true, “Miss being sore. You made me hurt so good, Joel.”

“And now you’ve replaced me with… bedding?” Joel teases, but you hear him shuffling around like he is moving through his house.

“Yeah,” you giggle breathlessly, bunching the pillow up even tighter. You wiggle your hips to seat yourself against the silk as before, a little crease of it nudging against your clit. It makes you push your pelvis harshly yet slowly into it. An idea pops into your mind, “Wanna see?”

You hear the sound of sheets, the clinking sound of his belt being unbuckled, and then the pull of his zipper. That was quicker than you thought.

“Hold on,” he replies and moves his mouth away from the receiver. You prop up your phone against the wall on the floating shelf above the head of your bed, listening to the faint sound of pants being shoved down.

When he finally calls you and the FaceTime logo appears on the screen, you press the green answer button and stare right into the camera. If this was a planned call, you would have thought about your looks and your pose, but Joel will see you just how you are right now.

He isn’t disappointed.

“Fuck, look at you,” he says instead of hello. You cannot see his cock, only his broad naked shoulders, mouth that’s slightly agape, and his eyes, which have become a darker brown with his arousal.

“Daddy’s so potty-mouthed,” you reply innocently, sitting up a little straighter to show off to the camera. You move slowly up and down on the pillow, back arched to push out your chest and one hand curled around your breast.

“How long have you been draggin' your cunt all over that pink cushion, young lady?” He asks in a low voice. His shoulder is moving in a way that tells you enough, and if you could close your eyes without feeling rude, you’d be able to see how it looked when stroked his dick.

“A while, a little after I texted you,” you reply. In the corner, you can see yourself moving on the pillow as your tits bounce slightly. It turns you on to see yourself masturbating more than you’d like to admit, “I’m so horny for you.”

“Bet you are,” his eyes roam hungrily over the screen, “So what are you waiting for?”

“What do you mean?” You pant.

“You want me to see you come, ain't that the plan?” His breathing is accompanied by the sound of his fist pumping his cock, “To show me how good you can treat her when I’m not around to do it?”

You nod as you moan loudly. Sweat has started to form on your chest and breasts, glistening prettily for him as you thrust your hips faster to chase your climax. It climbs steadily, like a coil tightening in your abdomen, starting from behind your cunt.

On the other end of the line, Joel’s heavy breathing is slowly turning into moaning as well. He is getting closer as well, trying his hardest to get to where you are.

“Daddy,” you cry feebly, “I’m gonna fu— come.”

A tingle is creeping up your spine. You’re so close, letting go of your breast to pull the fabric taut with both hands as you rock against it. Where you’ve been panting before, you hold your breath right before you come.

Every single drop of tension in your body seeps out of you as the coil finally snaps. Your orgasm hits you like a runaway train. Your world fades from view for a few seconds, your mouth hanging open in a loud groan. You ride it out without hiding your pleasure from the world, hoping that you truly are the only person in your dormitory right now, concentrating on staring into the camera lens as you gain your vision back.

Joel swears at the sight, speeds up his hand. He scrambles for his phone to angle it towards his dick.

“I’m gonna wreck that little cunt when I see you next time,” he promises through gritted teeth, suddenly letting out a deep grunt of satisfaction as he comes. He paints his hand, nearly dropping his phone amid the intensity, “Fuck, sweetheart.”

You’ve collapsed into your bed, pulled your phone down to hold it away from your face, and stare lovingly at Joel as the camera returns to his face. He looks a little flustered, cheeks slightly pink from the blood coursing through his veins.

“Stay on the phone with me for a while. I promise not to fall asleep,” you plead, swinging a leg out over the edge to pick the blanket up from the floor with your toes. You throw it over yourself, suddenly chilly when the air hits your sweaty skin. It’ll be easier than hiding the evidence by cleaning up too.

“Alright, lemme go wash my hands first,” he says, leaving the frame. You hear his feet patting across the bedroom floor, but then you hear nothing else.

When Joel returns, he gets under the covers as well, “So, how was your first week at—“

You’re snoring ever so slightly. He smiles to himself but doesn’t end the call just yet, watches you fall deeper into slumber for a while before deciding it’s enough. He shoots you a text before plugging his phone in for the night.

Fell asleep on me, Sleeping Beauty. I miss you too. Props to you for not getting foul-mouthed like me. I’ll remember that. -JM.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal characters #the last of us #joel miller x you #my writing #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel x reader #joel x you #joel miller smut #joel the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfic #joel miller imagine #joel tlou #dbf!joel

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upat4amwiththemoon · 1 year ago

Text

The stars

Summary: I see my lover when I look at the stars.

Pairing: Carol Danvers x female!reader

Warnings: sexism, men, it’s the 80s, some angst

Word count: 3902

a/n: second chance romance trope, I’m so happy with this you guys!!

Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore @natashamaximoff69

masterlists | guidelines

1985

Pancho’s bar wasn’t the fanciest place to work at as a young woman, especially because most of the customers are men from the air force. Their favorite past time besides drinking is trying to seduce Y/N, and get her number. But she isn’t interested in them, and never will be, though that’s something she’ll keep to herself. At least the constant flirting leads to good tips, which will eventually help her get out of the bar.

Y/N dries a glass with a rag now that she has some downtime. The rush time will start soon, so she wants to prepare for it to the best of her abilities. There are few regulars sitting either at a table or by the bar, but she knows they’ll let her know if they need anything, otherwise they like to quietly drink to their sorrows.

When the bell by the door rings, Y/N quickly glances at the new customers way, she only sees the air force logo on their clothes, making her roll her eyes. They’re out early today. She sets the cleans classes to their places and washes her hands, taking a deep breath, she gets ready for the onslaught of vulgar words.

“Hey, could we get two beers?”

Her head snaps up when she hears the feminine voice. Two women are standing in front of her with the air force clothes on and friendly smiles on their faces. Y/N stares at them with wide eyes for a moment. Sure every now and then women wonder into the bar, but she has never seen air force women come in.

Y/N regains her composure and grabs two beer glasses. “Sure thing! Which beers would you like?” Her customer service voice is cheery and slightly more high pitched than her normal one.

“Sierra Nevada, please.”

“Coming right up.” As Y/N moves to the taps to pour the beers, the two women start whispering and throwing looks between each other. Without Y/N noticing, the blonde woman’s gaze moves to places her eyes shouldn’t go. “Here you go.” She sets the beers in front of them.

“Thanks,” the woman glances at Y/N’s name tag, “Y/N. I’m Carol.” She hands some bills to pay for both of the drinks. “And this is Maria.” Carol states when she gets nudged to her side by the other woman.

“Nice to meet you.” Y/N says, her voice slower as she tries to figure out her intentions. Carol’s tone is similar to the multiple men who like flirt with her, though more genuine sounding, but surely that’s not what she is doing with her. “Here’s your change.”

“Keep it.” Carol winks before she and Maria go over to a table and sit down, leaving flustered Y/N at the bar.

She pockets the tip and start rearranging the dishes, trying to occupy her mind from wandering to incredibly good looking Carol.

When the clock strikes midnight, the bar is already at full swing. People are dancing to the loud music coming from the jukebox, and occasional bursts of laughter can be heard from the tables full of men, drunk men.

Y/N has been moved from behind the bar to the floor, bringing back empty classes and taking people’s drink orders. Because the other workers are men, they believe having a woman on the floor is better for business.

“Hey, sweetheart!” A drunken air force soldier shouts from a table full of them. He is waving his hand around in a come here motion. With a sigh, Y/N puts on her best smile and makes her way over to their table. “How much for a pretty girl like you to sit with us?” He waves a wad of cash in the air, his mouth formed in a grin that show his teeth. The others are staring at the two like it’s the best entertainment they’ve ever seen.

“Unfortunately I don’t have time to sit with customers. Is there anything else I could get you?” She smiles, holding a tray under her arm. She wants out of the situation, not liking the feeling of all the men’s eyes on her.

“Oh, come on, sweetheart.” The way the man says sweetheart makes Y/N want to gag. “Aren’t you supposed to do anything the customer want, eh? Besides, girls love money, don’t they?”

“I have to go help other customers, let me know if you want more drinks or something to eat.”

As Y/N goes to walk away from the table, the man grabs her arm. “Well hold on a second,” he slurs his words, “I ain’t done with you yet.”

Huffing, she glares at the man. She’s starting to get annoyed. “Listen, mister, I’m working right now, and have to attend to other customers as well.” Her voice has lost its cheery tone. “So, let me go.”

“Ooh, feisty!” One of the other man at the table comments. It makes the other laugh loudly, and enrages Y/N. She is aware this is a man’s world, but she is not going to be their entertainer.

Before Y/N can retaliate, someone else steps in to her rescue. “Hey. She said to let her go.” Carol stands next to her with her back straightened and shoulders pulled back. “So let her go.” Her voice is low, and her eyes are cold. She looks like someone you don’t want to mess around with.

“Well look at you,” the man scoffs, “it’s the wannabe soldier.” He sneers.

“Let the lady go, I’m warning you.”

“Oh, you’re warning me?” He stands up, still holding onto Y/N’s arm. All the humor has left him. “And what are you going to do about it?” He stands slightly taller than Carol, but it doesn’t seem to deter her.

The tension between the two start to grow. Y/N stands there, frozen, keeping her eyes on Carol. She doesn’t want to deal with this right now, her shift is supposed to end soon.

Suddenly, Carol raises her fist, and punches the man square in the jaw. He stumbles backwards into the chair he was sitting in, finally letting go of Y/N. “You bitch!” He shouts, wiping blood away from his lip. He goes to stand up, but before the situation escalates any further, one of the other bar workers come to escort him out.

“You okay?” Carol turns to look at Y/N once the men are out of the bar.

“Yeah,” she rubs the spot the man was holding onto, “thanks for helping.” Her mouth grows into a small smile. “That was kinda amazing.”

Grinning, Carol shrugs. “I have a things for saving pretty ladies who happen to work at this bar.”

Y/N lets out a small laugh as she shakes her head. “Okay, superhero.” Her voice is playful, but she can feel her cheeks flushing. “I have to get back to work now.”

“When do you get off?” Carol follows Y/N around while she picks up empty glasses.

“In twenty minutes.”

“I’ll walk you home,” she states, “me and Maria, I mean. You shouldn’t walk alone this late at night.”

Y/N bites the inside of her cheek. She glances at Carol, feeling warmth rush over her body when she sees the hopeful look on her face. “Alright. I’ll see you in twenty.” Giving her a smile, she returns back behind the bar.

Carol has a huge grin on her face as she stares at Y/N work. “What did I miss?” Maria walks over to her, having been occupied by beating a man’s ass in pool.

“We’re walking her home.”

Maria glances at Y/N, and nudges Carol’s side with a smirk. “You like her.”

“Maybe.”

1987

The front door of Y/N’s small, crappy apartment slams shut as she comes home from her shift at Pancho’s bar. It’s late at night, Y/N is exhausted, and she is sweaty, and she just wants to fall asleep without worrying about anything.

She throws her keys somewhere on top of the dresser she has next to her front door, and kicks her work shoes out of her feet. “Jesus!” A shout leaves out of her mouth when she turns around. Carol is standing there with a sheepish smile and a bouquet of flowers. “You scared the crap out of me.” She mumbles, holding a hand on her racing heart. “What are you doing here?”

“Sorry.” Carol sets the flowers next to Y/N’s key. “You gave me a key, so I wanted to surprise you. I didn’t remember you were working so late.” Her voice isn’t radiating the confidence it usually is. It’s softer and nervous.

The bouquet is big, it has more flowers Y/N has ever gotten before, and it’s wrapped with pink paper. “Thank you.” She smiles, picking up the bouquet and going to her so-called kitchen to put the flowers in a vase.

Carol follows her, staying close by, but still giving her space, she can see how tense Y/N’s body is. “Tough day at work?”

“Something like that.”

It turns quiet while Y/N fills a vase with water from the tap. The apartment doesn’t have any separate rooms besides the bathroom. All the kitchen appliances, a bed, small couch and a television are within reach of each other. It’s definitely not something Y/N wants to spend her whole life in, but she can survive in it, and that’s enough for now.

“How long were you waiting?” The vase gets set down to the single counter she has in the kitchen area.

Glancing at the clock, Carol hums. “Like, a couple of hours, maybe.”

“Carol,” Y/N sighs and rubs the space between her eyes, “you should’ve gone to sleep, don’t you need to be at the base tomorrow?”

“I took a day off.”

“Why would you do that?”

“To spend time with you.” The way Carol’s voice is so gentle makes Y/N want to cry after the day she has had.

Today’s shift felt ten times worse than any other shift in the past, it was full of drunk men and angry customers who genuinely believed in the fact that customer is always right, even when they aren’t. On top of that, her manager thinks the customers are more important than his employees, so he always found a way to satisfy the angry customers, which made them see Y/N as the bad guy.

“Hey,” Carol’s hands go to her cheeks, rubbing them softly, “why are you crying?”

“Sometimes I can’t handle it all.” She gets pulled into a warm embrace. “I was supposed to get out of here ages ago and see the world, but I just can’t get out of here.” Y/N sobs quietly, trying to hold herself back so she wouldn’t ruin Carol’s clothes with her tears and snot.

But Carol doesn’t care. One of her hands is rubbing Y/N’s back, while the other rests at the back of her head. She stays quiet, letting Y/N sob it all out in peace.

The two have been officially seeing each other for a while now. For the first year and a half they mostly danced around each other, both too anxious to make the first move in case they got the wrong impression, and the other person wasn’t interested in women after all. However, during that time, they became very close friends, so when Carol finally did do the first move—thanks to Maria—they moved forward pretty quickly.

Once Y/N tears start to subside, Carol whispers, “take a shower, I’ll make you a snack and ready your bed for us, okay?” Y/N nods, gives her a small peck to the cheek, and makes her way towards the bathroom.

Carol and Y/N are laying on top of each other on the bed as they watch a random movie that’s on one of the night channels. They should be asleep, but they really wanted to spend time with each other, as they don’t have a lot of opportunities to do so.

“Can i ask you something?” Y/N’s quiet voice almost goes past Carol.

“Yeah.”

“Why air force?”

“I’ve always wanted to fly.”

“Isn’t it scary?”

“No.” Carol smiles. She loves the feeling of being free in the air, having the possibility to go anywhere in the world she desires. Y/N hums quietly, not saying anything. “Why do you ask?” Carol tries to move her head in a way she’d be able to see Y/N’s face in the light coming from the television, while not disturbing her position on top of her.

“I just think it’s dangerous is all.”

“Are you worried about me?” She grins.

Y/N’s hand is resting under Carol’s shirt, tracing different shapes on her side. “Kind of hard not to be when i’m in love with you.” She whispers. The grin on Carol’s face falls at the words. She isn’t sure if she even heard her correctly, but she really hopes she did. Y/N moves her head up to see her. “I don’t want to lose you.”

The sentence assures Carol she heard correctly. “You won’t lose me, because I’ll always come back home to you. I love you.”

“Do you promise?”

“I promise.”

They kiss, both feeling the smiles on each other’s faces. Carol tightens her arms around Y/N as they pull away. She closes her eyes and listens to the soft sounds of Y/N’s breathing melting in with the sounds of the television, as they fall asleep.

1989

Y/N paces around her house, ruining her nails by biting them. Her eyes are locked on her phone. She is waiting for a call, from anyone, as long as someone calls her and tells her she is overthinking things, that Carol is okay. She has called Maria three times by now, and the air force base once, but none of the calls have been successful.

Carol was supposed to come over four hours ago, straight from work, but she hasn’t arrived yet, nor has she called Y/N to let her know she’ll be late, that’s what she usually does.

Groaning, Y/N picks up the phone and punches in Maria’s number, calling her again. “Come on, come on.” She mumbles, tapping her foot to the ground in a rapid pace. “Damn it!” The phone drops to the table with a crash, few plastic pieces flying off of it from the impact.

No one is answering.

She sits down to the couch, it creaks slightly every time someone moves on it, which had led to some uncomfortable make out sessions with Carol.

Most of her nails are already too short to bite, so she moves to the skin around her them, biting them until she bleeds. Her eyes are locked onto the muted television, desperately trying to distract herself from her thoughts. She is aware of her tendency to overthink and catastrophize things, she always thinks Carol is dead if she hasn’t called by the time she promised to, but that was never the actual situation. This is the same case. Carol isn’t dead, she just got caught up at the base. Nothing horrible has happened.

A knock on the door makes her body relax. Carol is finally here. She lets out a relieved laugh and goes to open the door, however, her face turns to a frown once she notices Maria standing behind it.

“Hey, where’s Carol?”

Maria looks tired. “Can I come inside?” As Y/N nods, she steps in and looks at the floor. “I think you should sit down.”

“Maria-“

“Please,” she looks up at her, “sit down.”

Y/N sits back down on the couch, while Maria stays standing up. She is gathering her thoughts while trying to take deep breaths. “Carol volunteered to pilot with Doctor Wendy Lawson on something important, and the plane, uhm..it-“

“Don’t you dare say it, Maria.” There are tears gathering in the corners of Y/N’s eyes. She knows where this is going, but she wishes she didn’t.

“The plane crashed.” Maria sits down next to Y/N when she starts properly crying. “They couldn’t find anyone, Carol is classified dead. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I wanted to come tell you because no one else would’ve.” No one else knows about their relationship.

Not being able to say anything, Y/N just leans against Maria, who has started crying as well. The person they both consider closest to them, is dead.

1995

It has been a week since Carol helped the Skrulls to get out of the Kree’s line of fire, which means it’s been a week since she got her memories back. Ever since then, only one thing has been in her mind, her lover.

It’s early morning as Carol and Maria drink coffee in the latter’s kitchen, Monica still sound asleep upstairs. “What happened with Y/N when I disappeared?” Carol asks, her voice quite hesitant.

Maria sets her cup down. “I’m not sure. She was obviously pretty devastated when I told her what had happened.”

“She doesn’t still work at Pancho’s, does she?”

“I don’t think so,” Maria frowns, “but Carol, I haven’t talked to her in a long time. She stopped answering my calls three years ago. I don’t know where she is, or how she’s doing.”

Sighing, Carol stands up. “I have to find her.”

Naturally, the first place Carol goes to is Y/N’s apartment, though she really hopes she won’t find her there, that she moved on and started travelling the world like she planned to.

She knocks on the door and waits. Nothing happens, so she knocks again, just in case. She’s almost ready to let out a sigh of relief, but soft sound of footsteps coming from inside the apartment stop her. As the steps grow closer, a small, selfish part of her wishes it’s Y/N who opens the door.

Somehow she feels more pain than relief when the door opens, and Y/N stands before her.

They stare at each other, both stunned by the sight in front of them. Y/N has bags under her eyes, and her hair is messy. She is wearing an old t-shirt that once belonged to Carol, her legs are bare.

She goes to slam the door closed, thinking she has finally gone mad, but Carol’s hand stops it from moving. “You aren’t real.” Y/N’s voice is shaky. Her eyes are closed, she doesn’t want to see the person standing in front of her, because it can’t possibly be Carol.

“I’m real.” Carol whispers, but Y/N only shakes her head as an answer. “I didn’t die, I was captured by Krees after we crashed.”

“You aren’t making any sense, you aren’t real.”

“Can you let me in, please?” Gently, Carol sets her hand on top of Y/N’s hand, that is still holding onto the door. The touch makes Y/N open her eyes, and turn them towards Carol. She stares at her for a long while before opening the door wider.

As Carol walks inside the familiar apartment, she looks around for any changes, but it looks exactly the same as it did six years ago. She hates it. While Carol walks deeper into the tiny apartment, Y/N stays by the front door. Her arms are crossed over her chest in a protective kind of way.

“You weren’t supposed to stay here.”

“I couldn’t leave y-“ she stops herself, “Carol.” She isn’t entirely sure if the woman in her house truly is her Carol. “What happened? Who are the Kree?”

“It’s a long story.” She has a gentle grin on her face, one that reminds Y/N so much of the way Carol used to look at her. “You might want to sit down for it.” Y/N shakes her head, staying right where she is. Carol frowns, but nods, sitting down to the couch. It still creaks anytime weight gets put on it. “Shorter version of it is: when we crashed, Dr. Lawson told me the truth about her mission before he was shot by a Kree. Before he could kill me too, I destroyed an engine, which made me absorb energy of a Tesseract, so the Kree took me with him to their planet Hala. I was integrated to their society, I had no memories of my human life. A bunch of years later, I crashed back to Earth, a lot of fighting happened, I discovered my true power and my memories, and helped the Skrulls.”

“I don’t know what any of that means.” Y/N whispers. Any time Carol used to talk about air force things with her, she felt dumb, but all of this is making her think they aren’t even speaking the same language anymore.

“I was in space, and I have powers now.”

“Like a superhero?”

Carol smiles, nodding. “Yeah, I’m a real life superhero now.”

“You already were a superhero in my eyes.”

Standing up, she takes a few tentative steps towards her. All she wants to do is hold her, kiss her, tell her she’ll never leave her again. But Carol can still see the hesitation in Y/N’s eyes, she can see the years of pain and exhaustion in her expression.

“But then you died.”

Carol stops. She’s close to Y/N, but too far away to touch her. Oh, how desperately she just wants to feel her soft skin under her palm again, even if the years without her have hardened it. “I’m here now.” She pleads with her eyes—please believe me.

“You won’t stay,” Y/N states quietly, “if you’re a hero now.”

“I can take you with me, wherever I go. I won’t leave you again. I’ll help you get out of this place.” Carol takes another few steps forward, reaching her hand towards Y/N. “Please give me another chance.”

Y/N stares at her hand. It’s more calloused than before, rougher. She grips the skin on top of her ribs tightly, trying to ground herself, she feels like ripping herself apart.

“Please.” Her voice cracks. Her eyes are wet with unshed tears. “I can’t live without you.”

Y/N grabs her hand with her own shaking one. Carol squeezes with a smile, pulling her close slow enough that Y/N can stop her if she wishes to. Once they are chest against chest, she pulls her into a full embrace. The waterworks start from the both of them the second they’re in each other’s arms. Carol letting out all of the pent up grief she wasn’t even aware she had, and Y/N still trying to grasp the reality of the situation.

“I missed you.” Y/N chokes out between her sobs. “I missed you so much.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” Carol holds onto her girl so tightly, pressing her against her body like she’d disappear if she let go. “I’m going to show you the world now, because you deserve so much better than this place. I’ll never let you go.”

Although, Y/N doesn’t trust in promises anymore, some small part inside of her sparks hope, that she’ll truly never be separated from Carol again. She’ll even go all the to the stars for her if she has to.

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amyelevenn · 17 days ago

Text

I cried like a baby coming home from the bar

PAIRING ; Max Verstappen x reader

SUMMARY ; after losing your wallet during a bar crawl, you and Max go on a drunken adventure to find what has been lost.

WARNINGS ; drinking, drunk!reader

A/N ; not really sure how i feel about this... is it proof read? no. do I care? also no!

also 20 second penalty? fair but oh my god my poor heart can’t handle this!! 💔💔

2.8k words masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・✧・✫・゜・。.

This wasn’t how your night was supposed to go.

Your plan was to drink away the stress that had being weighing down your shoulders the past couple weeks. A bar crawl wasn’t exactly your scene, but any excuse to get as hammered as possible with good friends was an excuse that you were more than willing to take.

It was a nice, albeit temporary, escape from reality. Your life had recently turned into a never-ending cycle of work, rent hikes that could rival a blockbuster plot twist, and family drama that would make a soap opera seem mundane. You had a list of worries so long that it could wrap around the block.

Somewhere around bar number eight, you’d promised the table the next round was on you. Reaching for your wallet, you felt only the smooth emptiness of your jean pocket. Sheer panic set in almost immediately, coursing through your veins despite being almost completely plastered.

Stumbling back to your table, you barely make it before tripping over your own feet.

“Molly, I can’t find my wallet!” you exclaim, your voice slightly slurred as you rummage through your bag again.

Molly, your closest friend, leaned in, concern etched on her face. “Are you sure you had it when we got here?”

“Of course I did! I had it when I bought those nachos!” You gesture wildly, nearly spilling your drink. “They were amazing, by the way.”

“Focus, love,” she said, trying to suppress a smile. “Let’s retrace your steps. Did you check your pockets?”

You pat down your jacket, frowning. “Nope. Just my phone and... gum.”

You hadn’t even realised you were crying until Molly had bunched her sleeve up in her fist to gently wipe the tears off of your cheeks. You manage to whisper a ‘thank you’ through your soft sobs, wishing for nothing more than every piece of your stress to just leave you alone.

This was supposed to be a night away from it all. A night of drinks, laughter and warmth. A night with no anxieties, only carefree joy. This is exactly the opposite of what you needed right now.

Someone handed you a glass of water which you gratefully accepted, skulling it all in one go. You let out a heavy sigh, instantly aware of the uncomfortable heat creeping in as the fog begins to clear and you start to sober up. It makes you even more nervous having everyone’s eyes on you, waiting for your next move.

“I… gotta look for it, right?” you asked, more to Molly than yourself.

“Yeah. But you can’t go alone. You’ve had too much to drink. I’ll come with you.” Her tone was certain, but her expression betrayed disappointment at the night’s early conclusion.

Guilt gnaws at your chest. “No no no s’my fault, I don’t wanna ruin your night Mol Mol!” you slur as you grab her hand, giving it a squeeze as a form of promise. “I can take care of m’self, promise.”

“Mmm, no, honey, you can’t go alone,” she said, smiling reassuringly. “I’ll come. It’s okay—”

“I could go with her.” A voice cut through your little bubble. You turned to see Max, the one who had suggested it. “I’ve only had one drink, and that was over an hour ago.”

You didn’t know Max very well; you had been introduced to him once at one of Molly’s parties and had a couple conversations since, but that was all. It wasn’t odd to be at the same events, but you just happened to never find yourself around the same people as him. You turn to Molly for her approval – he was one of her friends after all, and you were putting all of your trust into her.

She hesitated. “Are you sure? You don’t have to, Max. I’m happy to go.”

He smiles, nodding. “It’s all good, Molly, I was planning on heading out soon anyway. I promise I’ll take good care of her,” he laughs, brightening the mood a little. It’s the first time you notice just how contagious his smile is.

You gathered your things, bidding your friends a hasty goodbye and pulling Molly into a tight hug. “I really appreciate you, my love,” you say, giving her a teary wink. She laughs, giving one final squeeze before letting you go. “I promise to make it up to you another night, and I won’t ruin that one!!”

“You could never ruin my night baby girl!” she giggles, laying her head on your shoulder. “Please message me if you find your wallet and when you get home, okay?” You nod, vowing to do so as long as she does in return.

Blowing her a kiss, you and Max make your way over to the bartender, who looks bored out of his mind. “Hey, what can I get ya?” he asks, moving to start mixing up some concoctions.

“Nothing for me, but a water for her. Thank you,” The bartender, Ollie, as you read his name tag, hums as disappears to get a clean glass and some water for you. After a few minutes, he comes back and hands you the cup, and you give him an appreciative smile in return. “Have you guys had any lost wallets handed in tonight?” Max asks whilst you guys still had his attention. He shakes his head, and you both thank him anyway. Your glass gets left on the counter, and you make your way out.

The early spring breeze hit you like a splash of cold water. “It’s freezing! Let’s find the next bar quickly,” Max joked, noticing your goosebumps. “Do you want to walk or catch a cab?”

Taking a deep breath, you consider your options. “Um...I dunno?”

“I think walking will be our best option for now,” he suggests, gesturing you to follow his lead. You fall in step with him, but the drinks you had earlier inhibit you from walking in a straight line. Every now and then you accidentally bump his shoulder, murmuring a quick ‘sorry’ and moving to the other side of the sidewalk for good measure. He laughs it off every time which makes you feel a little bit better.

Before you can even form a coherent enough thought to start a conversation, he is holding the door of the next bar open for you. You thank him, stepping inside and immediately soaking up the warmth radiating off the strangers inside.

Max leads you over to the counter, asking all the questions for you. He gets another water and some fries for you to eat whilst you walk. He isn’t stupid – he knows you won’t be able to stomach much, but you need to eat to help sober you up. It’s fair to say that this isn’t his first time sobering a friend up.

The waitress comes back from lost and found empty handed, but the hot chips help you ignore the sense of impending doom that is weighing on your shoulders.

“Do you want to stay here and eat for a bit, or keep going?” Max asks, guiding you towards the exit but not outside just yet.

“We can keep going,” you say, holding the door open for him this time. As he searches for the next bar’s location, strangers push you into his space, and the heat radiating from him nearly overwhelms you, stirring an intense longing to cling to that warmth. If you were as intoxicated as you had been just half an hour ago, you would have done it without a second thought.

He steps forward, seemingly oblivious to your flushed cheeks—though perhaps he noticed and chose to overlook it, wanting to spare you the embarrassment.

You move onto walking to the next bar, the chill of the night clawing under your skin and into your veins.

“Do you like to drink?” is the only question your drunk mind can come up with as a distraction from the frozen breeze.

“Uh, yeah, I do,” he answers, almost perplexed at how random the question was. “I would ask if you do too, but i feel like i don’t need to.”

“Nuh uh this isn’t ‘bout me,” you giggle, wanting to make it obvious you are interviewing him here. “What do you like ‘bout drinking?”

He laughs a little, amused at your state. “Well, I guess I like being with my friends and having a good time with them-”

“-oooh what else??”

“Uh, I like when-”

“-Look at those lights!” You giggle, swaying slightly as you point at a nearby neon sign. “It’s like a carnival exploded!”

Max chuckles, steadying you with a gentle grip on your arm. “Yeah, it’s very... festive. Just keep walking, okay?”

“Festive! Just like me!” You lean into him, your words slightly slurred, a wide smile spreading across your face. “You’re my designated fun friend!”

“Designated fun friend?” he echoes, smirking with a laugh. “You’ve had a burst of energy, huh?”

“I’m just trying my best not to cry!”

“Well, we are at the next bar, so hold onto those tears for another couple minutes!, yeah?”

But you are met with nothing by disappointment as the bartender shakes their head, confirming they’ve had no wallets handed in tonight. It was starting to feel like an impossible mission.

You and Max leave the bar, the cool air wrapping around you like a chilly blanket. The streets are buzzing with late-night energy, but all you can think about is that elusive wallet.

“Okay, next stop,” Max says, pulling out his phone to check the map. “There’s that dive bar a few blocks away. They might have seen something.”

“Dive bar? Sounds fancy!” You giggle, the thought of it making you feel a bit more adventurous. “Will there be karaoke?”

Max chuckles, shaking his head. “Let’s focus on finding your wallet first, then we can talk about exotic pets.”

After a short walk, you arrive at the next bar, its entrance adorned with twinkling fairy lights. You push the door open, a wave of warmth hitting you instantly. It’s cozy inside, with a mix of laughter and music filling the air, just like every other place you had been to.

The bartender, a friendly woman with colourful hair, raises an eyebrow at Max. “What can I get you?”

“We’re looking for a lost wallet,” Max says, cutting to the chase. “Has anyone turned one in?”

She shakes her head, her expression sympathetic. “Sorry, not tonight. But I can help you with drinks if you’d like!”

You sigh, your shoulders drooping a bit. “Well, that’s like 4 bars down, and still no wallet.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll find it,” Max reassures you, his tone bright. “How about we take a quick break and sit for a minute? It’ll help take your mind off it.”

You take a sip of the water he had gotten you, and he raises his glass to toast. “To the next adventure!”

You clink your glasses together, laughter bubbling up, easing the tension in your shoulders. “To finding my wallet!”

As you sip your drink, the conversation flows easily. Max shares funny stories about previous bar crawls, and you find yourself laughing harder than you have all night.

“Okay, so if you could have any drink in the world right now, what would it be?” you ask, leaning in with curiosity.

“Hmm, maybe a classic gin and tonic, but made with a specific gin that costs an arm and a leg. Simple, but effective,” he replies, a thoughtful look on his face.

“Boring!” you tease. “You’ve got to spice it up!”

He laughs, shaking his head. “Okay, well what would you suggest then?”

“Oooh too many options to just pick one!”

You laugh together, absorbing the warm atmosphere on the pub.

After a few more sips, you notice the bar starting to get busier. “What’s the plan now?” you ask, feeling a mix of anticipation and anxiety about the wallet.

“Let’s hit one more place after this,” Max suggests, a determined look on his face. “We can’t stop until we find it!”

You skin was beginning to crawl as it started to sink in that you might not find it. It made your palms sweat and your head throb; the thought of losing nearly everything that mattered because of reckless drinking was suffocating. But Max seemed to notice the thoughts forming in your head, placing a soft hand on your shoulder in consolation.

“We’ll find it,” he soothes, rubbing a gentle circle on your skin before letting go. “That’s a promise, yeah?”

He seems genuine, but you just chalk it up to pity.

The last bar that you go to is once again unsuccessful, having had wallets handed in but none distinctly yours. Heaving a heavy sigh, you feel the weight of the past couple weeks’ stress returning to your shoulders, pulling you down into a mental spiral. You don’t even bother wiping the tears away as the roll down your burning cheeks, making the throb in your head pound even harder.

“m'sorry we didn’t find it,” he murmurs, offering a sincere smile that you don’t even glance at.

“s’fine. Can you take me home? I don’t want to be here anymore,” you say, already moving to leave the bar before getting an answer from him.

He leads you to his car, which was conveniently parked less than a block away. The ride there was silent, the only words exchanged being you giving him directions on how to get there. You pull up to your apartment block, moving to get out but noticing that Max does as well.

“What are you doing?” you ask, the words harsher than you intended.

He sighs, moving to help you out of the car. “Can i walk you to your place? I feel bad leaving you alone.”

You pause for a moment, feeling bad – he was just being nice, trying to help you. “Oh, no that’s okay, you don’t have to do that.”

“No, no i want to. I promise Molly I’d take care of you. If you don’t mind, of course.”

Considering it a moment, you revel in the soft smile he gives you when you agree. Locking his car, he follows you past the doorman and up towards the elevator. It’s quiet, but not awkwardly so – it’s the kind of silence that’s comfortable, between two friends, if that’s what you were.

The light ding tells you you’ve made it to your floor, and you turn to him before he can walk out.

“I can go from here,” you say, gently nudging his elbow with your own as if to reassure him you’ll be alright. He nods to himself, watching intently as you slowly walk backwards and away from him. “Thank you for all of your help tonight. I most definitely couldn’t do it on my own so… I guess I owe you.”

“Yeah, I guess you do. How does dinner sometime sound?”

You grin, taken aback a little by how forward he was. “That sounds very nice.”

He laughs lightly, and it makes your heart flutter. Theres something behind the smile that he gives you, as if he knows something that you don’t. “Your wallet will make it back to you, I promise,” he remarks.

The doors start to close before you can say anything in response, so you just laugh a little until he can’t see you. Yeah, right! you think, I’m never seeing that wallet again.

A week or so later, Molly and some others are over for dinner at yours. It’s a nice, intimate evening with your closest friends when Molly jumps out of her chair to run to her bag. Someone must have said something that caused a sudden epiphany because damn you have never seen her move so quickly.

She comes back into the room, holding a chunk of pale green with a little note on top. “It’s for you,” she says, placing it in your hands. You realise then that its your wallet, the one you had lost on that fateful night.

You squeal in appreciation, leaping out of your own chair to give her a big bear hug. “Thank you! Oh my god Molly how did you get this?!”

She laughs, enjoying the happiest she had seen you in a hot minute. “It wasn’t me. Max wanted me to give it to you.”

You scoff, not believing her for one minute. She insists, pointing to the little note scribbled on top. It reads:

“I pulled some strings.

Hope this is yours and not some strangers!

-Max”

You are in awe, and the conversation moves on too quickly for you to process what had happened. You spent the rest of the night unable to fully participate in a conversation, too wrapped up in your head.

He had gone out of his way to continue to look for your wallet. It astounded you; a guy you barely knew before that night spent time trying to help you, and didn’t ask anything of it.

You knew you would have to return the favour by getting him some of the over-priced gin he told you so much about.

.・。.・゜✭・✧・✫・゜・。.

as always, feedback is appreciated!

#x reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader #formula 1 #formula one #max verstappen #max verstappen x you #fluff #mv1 #mv1 x reader #mv1 fic #mv33 #ames writes ! ☽

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renren-006 · 5 months ago

Text

Y'all did know? - Daryl x fem reader

Anon: i absolutely fucking love your fics, i read so many fanfics i don’t always remember authors but i for sure remember and recognize you and your work partially bc i reread it often❤️ after reading your last daryl fic at 4 am bc i couldn’t sleep i had an idea for a fic for him. what if it was slightly the opposite thing, like daryl and reader got together early on, maybe the knew each other before hand like reader was a bartender at merle’s favorite bar bc we all know daryl takes time to warm up to be ppl, and the cdc happens, while drinking they make their confession and get together officially, but readers like daryl with the fact they’re kinda shy and take a while to warm up to ppl so they don’t do pda and stuff publicly, not really intending to hide it but also not wanting the attention, and maybe they assume their ppl from their group know (this is where the set up for that last fic got me bc i can see this being a long timeline)......

original ask: Ask

a/n: hey anon!! i decided to copy some of what you wrote here but it was a massive request and I absolutely enjoyed reading it and writing it!!! thank you for the kind words!! you guys are why i love writing and helping make your stories become reality! hope you all enjoy reading it! word count: 3107

taglist: @rosecentury

Before World Ended:

You met the Dixon brothers a few years before the world ended. You were a bartender at a small driver's roadside bar off Atlanta I-85. You started working there after you graduated from college, hoping to make some money to put away to get out of Atlanta.

Merle was always a loud drunk and a loud customer throughout the day. Daryl, however, was a kinder soul, apologizing for his brother before seating himself directly in the center of the bar area. The two of you chatted through your shift, mostly about who comes in, how his day was, and what the weather for the week would be like. It was small talk, but with the other rednecks checking you out, you felt comforted by him. Daryl never made any plans to put any moves on you in the three years he knew you, but when the world ended, and you almost got killed, he knew he had to.

"I like ya," he said aloud. You looked over at him. He was gazing up at the sky, a beer between his knees. You just sat there watching the man.

“What the hell does that mean?” you asked, slightly annoyed. You not only had almost died by an undead customer, but also it was an undead customer. The idea that people could die and come back to life as something unlike themselves was utterly unbelievable. You watched blow you as that undead walked around without noticing you and Daryl on the bar's roof. Merle was blocking the rest of the bar to keep everyone out. All three of you knew you would have to leave soon, but it didn't matter; the summer breeze was still blowing, and the beer was still cold for now.

“It means…ya almost died and the shit of the world, so… I like ya.”

“You are a master with your words,” you told him sarcastically. You've known Daryl for years now; the two of you spoke the same language with people. You were always shy, and Daryl just took a while to open up to people. You both were a lot alike, and that's what kept you together and attracted you to one another. “I like you too.”

GEORGIA:

The two of you never addressed your relationship with each other, not that anyone really needed to know. Nor did the two of you showcase it. Since both of you were shy and had a bit of a more rigid exterior about letting people in, you just figured when you were alone with each other was the time to be closer, but out in the world hand, holding, loving looks, and conversation were the way to go about it.

Merle knew, of course; he figured it out quickly. He was the only one learning about the two of you and not caring. Daryl acted the same as he had, except he didn't dare flirt with you. Daryl had given him one look on the road when you walked ahead, and he was staring at your ass that he never tried again. Merle may be mean to Daryl, but he never would cross-touch what were his brothers. Everyone thought it was a word.

“He doesn't flirt with you, does he?” Andrea asked you a few months into living together. You shook her your head. “Weird, he never stopped with me.”

“Maybe you're just his type, Andrea.”

“And you're not? Anything with tits and an ass and Merles all over it,” she said to you, not noticing the slight touch of hands with Daryl as he walked by and the smile you gave. She kept running on about Merle's annoyance, not noticing anything else around her.

FARM:

“You crazy bitch” you yelled towards Andrea. She had run over far behind your form and Ricks. The two of you dashed towards the fallen man without a second thought in your mind. You ran towards your man, who was lying in the grass, groaning in pain. Daryl was barely speaking in Rick's arms as they carried him off.

“Don't worry, your man will be fine,” Shane said, keeping you from absolutely bashing Andreas' face in. She took one look at your anger and held her hands up, walking backward towards Dale. “Don't bite her head off for this.”

“Whatever,” you said, shoving him off and walking up towards the house, where Daryl was now being brought inside. You didn't even consider Shanes's words that day, “your man.” it never crossed your mind that he was teasing you. Shane was a dick; everyone knew it more recently. You could see Shane's vacant eyes glancing at everyone in a way that made your skin crawl. You thought the only reason he was acting like that towards you was this asshole was flirting. He knew you were taken, right? You were mistaken.

ROAD AGAIN:

You handed over a can of soda to Daryl. You had only found two in the house you searched. Surprisingly, the can was left in a cabinet, meaning you could drink it if you wanted to. Daryl and Rick approached you once they entered the house. They both came to help you in the bigger house. You placed the soda in Daryl's hand.

“It's not beer, but I know you'll enjoy it anyway,” you said to him before heading up the stairs.

“She's sweet on you,” Rick said with a smile, teasing the man beside him about you as you skipped the last few steps.

“I know,” Daryl said as he went to look for other things inside the house. Rick looked back and forth between the stars and where Daryl had gone off, too. He laughed slightly.

“Those idiots,” Rick said, thinking they both had no clue about the other's feelings when everyone else was oblivious to their known feelings.

PRISON:

You stood on the watchtower, scouting the land ahead. Daryl and a few others had gone on another trip to look for supplies. You had your rifle on the railing as you watched, and then you set up their gear and trucks. Maggie slid in next to you. She watched you watch Daryl move around in the ground, setting up his motorcycle. He looked good down there; the way his body moved, his mussels, and even the way his hair was falling was driving you wild. Maggie caught a glimpse of you checking him out.

“You're so obvious,” she told you. You laughed slightly.

“Sorry,” you apologized; you knew you were obsessed with watching him, but how could you not? You’ve known Daryl for so many years now it was impossible not to watch or admire the man before you. You loved him, and he knew that. Daryl was also quite aware of your joys of watching him, sometimes he would put on more of a show of stretching or giving you those lustful eyes you knew would mean the two of you wouldn't get any sleep that night. It was his favorite thing to do to get you worked up throughout the day.

PRISON:

Daryl knew he was forgetting something before he even shut the truck's door. He heard her voice before she even reached the hill in the Prison.

“Wait.” Daryl glanced out the window of the truck, putting his arm out and waving. He knew she was smiling from that before her face popped up in his vision. “You forgot your water bottle!” Smiling up at him was you, his girl—Rick snickers from the seat beside Daryl.

“Thanks,” He said, grabbing the water bottle from your hand, “saving my ass.”

“Always am,” you responded, giving him a wink. Have a safe trip out.” As you said it, you turned with a wave and walked back up the hill. Swaying our hips bit as you did, you gave Daryl a show that you knew would make him come back to you tonight with a mission.

Daryl and Rick headed off on their scout to a new town they had spotted on the map, a few miles away from the other town they had picked clean. As the two looked around the houses, Daryl went through many jewelry cases for anything that might seem like something you would wear. Rick came in on him, picking through when he had found the perfect thing.

“She would love this,” Daryl said. Rick came up next to him, observing the (silver/gold) necklace with a bird on the end of the chain swinging in the air.

“Do you think about anything but her?” Rick asked, laughing as he exited the room to look in the one next to it. Daryl chuckled and shook his head. No, you were always on his mind.

Little did he know, Rick assumed Daryl had a massive crush on you, not that he had any suspicions you two were already together.

When they returned and Daryl was back sitting next to you on that mattress on the floor, he pulled out the necklace.

“I found it,” he told you, handing it over to you so you could see it. “I know how much ya miss these types of things.”

“Haha, did you know I missed jewelry?” You asked him, shocked he somehow knew how much you missed having something to wear around your neck. He nodded his head.

“I knew, ya mentioned it a while ago. Been looking for something for ya”

“Daryl,” you said with admiration. He put it around your neck; the man who you had met in a bar all those years ago was now putting a necklace on your neck in a run-down prison at the end of the world.

AFTER PRISON FALL:

“Daryl?” You said, besides Carol, who had just completed her job of destroying a massive facility of cannibal people. You had been with her, the girls, and Tyreese since the fall and had been so scared that Daryl didn't make it out of the prison. You had run out of the hut and left Tyrese once you heard the explosion. You had found Carol and walked over to the others and saw him.

Daryl didn't hesitate to run straight for you. You hugged me so tight you felt the air in your lungs stop for a moment, but you didn't care.

“I miss ta. I thought ya died,” Daryl said as he clung to your body. He had gone through hell to fight and find you, and here you were, not a scratch on you and in his arms again. That necklace still hung around your neck, a form of commitment to the both of you about who you were with.

“I'm alive. I'm alive,” you said as you held the man in your arms. The others stood and watched your reunion, no one thinking anything- “Wow, they must care for each other a lot.”

Once he broke off the hug, it was like looking into the eyes of the world again. You could see color, purpose, and meaning. He was everything to you.

AFTER TERMINUS:

After the terminus, Daryl stuck to your side. The two of you walked together, ate together, slept near each other, and went on runs together. When Carol and Daryl went to Atlanta, so did you.

“How long have you two been together?” she asked as you walked through another building in Atlanta. Daryl casually answered as he passed an office door with a walker trying to get out.

“Since Atlanta fell,” he answered. Carol stopped, turning back to the two of you.

“You've been together for more than three years?” She asked the two of you. “How did no one pick up on it?”

“Wait, what?” you asked, shocked, “How does no one know Daryl and me are together?”

“You two have never been very…affectionate,” she told the two of you. Darly glanced your way. The two of you laughed a little at that.

“Yea, that makes sense,” Daryl said. This was the moment the two of you started looking towards the others for any answers if they knew you were together. For the last few months on the road, getting to Alexandria yielded you the response that no one knew a thing. It caused a bit of agitation for the two of you about how maybe your attitudes about being affectionate were causing more harm than good.

ALEXANDRIA:

Once you all had gotten settled in and jobs were assigned, you all started to try and live a normal life again.Since moving into the two houses, you shared a space with Miccone, Rick, Carol, Daryl, and the kids. You and Darly took a room downstairs along with Carol down the hall, and the rest were split in the rooms upstairs. No one questioned you staying with Daryl or even looked at the fact that there was only one king bed in that room with the two of you.

While Darly was assigned to go on runs to look for people, you were assigned daycare and teacher duty at the house designated for the school. It kept you busy while Darly was away, and on the days you had off or no one showed, you hung around with Crol or took watch. Many days, you walked around the complex, taking in the signs and the ability to walk in peace. That was until one day.

“Hey, you're one of the women from the new group, right?” a man asked as you walked back to your shared house. You could see Daryl on the porch talking with Carol, but he had not seen you yet.

“Uh yeah,” you said, continuing to walk back; the man pulled your arm to face him.

“You know it's rude to keep walking when someone is talking to you. Or did you forget that after living in the wild for so long?”

“I didn't forget anything; I just don't want to talk to you,” you told the man, shaking your arm out of his grasp and walking faster towards the house. Finally, you made eye contact with Daryl. The way his face looked, you knew it was because he had heard. The man didn't stop trying.

“Hey, don't walk away from me,” he said, running back up to you, grabbing your arm so hard and pulling and making you stumble back. “What if I'm not good enough for you? Can’t a man ask a girl for some action or what?” he said, pulling you closer to him.

“Stop it,” you yelled back, but you didn't have to fight hard. Daryl was a flash before being by your side, and the man's face was flush against his fist.

“Touch me woman again, and that's the least I'll do to ya,” he said. The man froze as he looked up at you from the ground. That was the day you realized the longer people didn't know either of you was together, the more people would try and come up to you, assuming you were not.

Daryl went to bed that night, angry. You knew it wasn't towards you, but the coldness in the room made you feel like the world was ending if you and him couldn't be more open.

ALEXANDRIA:

‘What if you two just got married?” Carol asked as she was cooking in the kitchen. You paused your reading from the chair in the living room to look into the kitchen at Carol.

“What?’ You asked, shocked by her expression. She turned away from what she was cooking on the stove to talk to you.

“Well, since the people in Alexandria won't take the hint you've taken, and Daryl's upset, and also the issue of our own family not knowing…maybe you should just go out, find some rings, and get married.”

“I…hadn't thought of that,” you told her. “You think Daryl would be okay with that?”

“I think Daryl is more on board with that idea than you think, y/n,” Carol told you. She knew about the distance that had been caused by the repetitive men hitting on you. The guy whose nose was broken never once tried to come up to you and denied anything happening with you when others asked. No one knew what Darly had said that day apart from those there. The decision was made, at least on your part. You stomped your way over to Aaron's house. When he answered the door, you stomped in.

“Need Daryl,” was all you said before heading to the back of his house to the garage. There, Daryl's bike sat as he tinkered with it. You slammed the door open, causing Daryl's head to look towards the door. A shutter went through the house.

“The hell, woman..” Darly almost got out.

“Marry me,” you said when he was almost done speaking. Daryl's mouth closed, looking at you. “Do you need me to repeat myself? Daryl Dixion, marry me.”

“Ya no, I heard ya y/n,” he said, standing up, “why?’

“Why? Because I love you, and no one can even tell I do or that we have been together for more than four years,” you told him, frustrated by the string of events of the past year.

“You want to marry me?” Daryl asked, taking your face in his grease-covered hands.

“Yes,” you told him, smiling.

EVERYONE'S REACTIONS:

Rick was holding a dinner for the family that night. Carol completed a large spread, and everyone showed up. You and Daryl were late. When you showed up, the two of you were holding hands. Michone was the first to welcome the new development.

“You guys waited long enough,” she joked, causing other heads to turn. Daryl looked down at his feet, and you just let out a sigh.

“We didn't, though,” you told them. Everyone looked twords you two in confusion.

“Didn't what?” Michone asked, clearly confused by what was happening.

“We've been together for four years,” Darly said, “And we just got married to prove it.” He lifted his hand to show the gold band on his finger, and yours lifted as well, showing the (silver/gold) band with a few small diamonds on it. The two of you had found a jewelry store and had fun picking out your ring, while Darly wanted something simple.

“Holy shit,” Abraham said.

“Wait, what? '' Carl shouted, clearly confused about how his uncle had been together with you for so long, and he didn't know.

“Congratulations,” Carol answered. Everyone else was shocked. “Oh, I've known about them for a while.”

“Tonight's dinner story is how the two of you got together,” Rick said as he motioned for the others to sit, “And no one is leaving out any details.”

#daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon x reader #daryl fanfiction #the walking dead imagine #daryl dixion #the walking dead daryl #twd daryl #daryl dixon #fanfic #daryl x reader

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kneelingshadowsalome · 7 months ago

Note

I know the König x secret admirer reader is not gonna be officially continued but I was wondering if you could maybe explore part of it😭 there’s a part that mentioned that König gets laid in the military and I was wondering how angsty it would be if reader found out?🤭

Yes of course! ^^ It would be angsty... and fluffy! These two are the silliest people who ever lived tbh 🩷🐥

König is young in this AU (around his early 20s) and wildly inexperienced compared to some of the other recruits his age.

His first time was with a girl who joined the army when König had been there for about 1.5 years already. Desperate as he was with hiding the fact that he’s still a virgin, he tumbled into bed with this lady after a night out at the bar. She thoroughly seduced him, and König’s instincts told him she was only looking for fun, but he went with her anyway because, well. Loneliness can kill you, you know?!

He tried to woo her a bit after that until it became quite clear that this woman was not planning to settle down anytime soon. If anything, she was looking for a new conquest – and it’s fine, totally fine, except that König had surrendered a tiny piece of his heart to her along with his dick... That’s just how he is, and it took him more than a few months to get over the fact that it was “just a shag” and he “shouldn’t take things so seriously”.

That’s also why he closed off from people again, decided to concentrate on work and training and gym – until our cute little angel stumbled into his life like the prettiest saving grace! König was a goner from the start because this girl's approach was very different, so gentle and sweet compared to grimy shot glasses and smudgy lipstick and raunchy jokes. It’s a given that he was a little shocked when she sent her that pic 🙄 reminding him of promiscuous women who are not looking for a soul but a body, but because he is what he is the first thing he did was crank things up a notch and send her a dick pic back…

Yes, he’s desperate, but he’s also an go hard or go home man and this time, König is relatively sure he’s dealing with a lovely, delicate soul. Someone who wouldn’t just leave him out in the cold after getting what she wants.

And everything is like a fairytale between these two until she finds out he’s not a virgin despite he seemed a bit… like one… (in this scenario I think reader is a virgin and she thought König was one too because of obvious reasons? lol) And it’s fine, totally fine for her as well, except that the image of König having the night of his life with some military babe is haunting her from dusk till dawn.

There’s bound to be some drama when she starts asking timidly whether she’s still there… Whether they see each other every day. If they talk to each other, if he trains with her, etc. What if they test rifles together, or go out again with the sniper crew and get drunk and König feels… a little lonely?

She knows he would never cheat on her, not in a million years, but knowing how much of a wet dog he is she can’t promise that she’ll be all calm and relaxed during weekends, knowing her boyfriend is out there, full of testosterone and heart, his heart somewhat susceptible to female influence… Maybe even good old seduction…

And what’s even worse is the jealousy, the envy.

What if she’s more badass than her? That doesn't take much... She must be fierce if she’s in the military, something completely different, a forbidden apple König might want to taste again. It’s maddening, and when she finally opens up about it to him, spitting it out one night when he asks what’s bugging his sweet angel, there’s a big fat silence that follows.

König can't even believe she has torn her heart to pieces over something like this, alone and upset and ashamed when she's a literal angel. He sits her nice and pretty in his lap and talks her ear off about how he has nothing against this woman, truly, but that she is nothing compared to his first (and hopefully last!) girlfriend. Their love could never be compared to what happened between him and that girl, these things can’t even be spoken together in the same sentence. If he’s completely honest, his first time was... disappointing. Awkward, humbling, a total drunken mess of which he remembers nothing except that the woman wasn’t completely present either and that he was ashamed that his first time had to be like this.

Honestly, he felt like he lost his virginity on the night when he came to see her. She’s everything he’s ever dreamed of, all he thinks about these days... It’s quite annoying, actually, because he’s supposed to concentrate on how the wind blows and that the ammo doesn’t get wet and that he’s properly concealed.

He could be lying in a ditch with dummy rounds whirling past him and all he could think about are her eyes and lips and giggling and tits and, and… that. How warm it is, how nice it is, how he would just want to curl himself next to her when he hops back to his bunk in the evening. Her smile is the last thing he sees before he dreams, her voice is what he hears. All the things she said, all those sweet, silly little things, chime in his ear before he sleeps.

And all the precious moments they’ve already spent together, the times he made love to her under the trees... There’s nothing like that in the whole world and if she thinks something else can top that she's even sillier than he thought. He could comb through all the continents and he would never find a girl like her.

So tell him again... Why would he go to a shot glass of saltwater when he has a jar of wild honey right here at home?

#lmao what könig doesn’t tell her probablyyy is that the lady is not interested in him either #she just hops from D to D so she barely remembers König even exists #he’s only a co-star in some stories she tells her friends #like “Ooh yeah that one guy had a horse cock but he fussed around with the condom so much I almost fell asleep haha”#“what was his name again? shit I can’t remember”#meanwhile our angel reader is ascending to the 7th plane with the help of the horse cock in question like “Köniii T^T”#always the funniest thing when a secret admirer gets jealous of his object of obsession who’s actually fucking enamored with their no 1 fan #König gets jettisoned to the sun everytime she so much as *looks* his way #like are you both completely utterly dense or were you just born this way…#<3 sillies

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cntloup · 10 months ago

Text

Close Call

Fem!Reader angst, mention of death, mention of trauma, mention of suicide

Simon sits on the bar stool as he quite often does when he needs some alone time after missions although he usually doesn't drink this much during these self debriefing sessions but this last mission was a real tough one. He had a close call while clearing an enemy's building and he was scared shitless... like truly frightened out of his wits. He had never felt that way before until in that moment. Of course he always made sure to stay focused and finish the mission as unharmed as possible, but he never feared for his life to that extent because this time was different. He had you. What would happen to you if he was gone? How heartbroken would you be? Would all the pain come back? All that trauma you suffered from. All that heavy weight which he took off your shoulders. And you did the same for him. Oh how brave and strong you are in his eyes even though you don't see it yourself but he makes sure to make you believe in yourself step by step. Never pushing and prying too much just as you do with him... just as patient as you are. Would you survive if something happened to him? As much as he wants to stop these thoughts, he can't help but think about a conversation you once had on this topic. About how you wouldn't want to keep living if you ever lost him. He quickly pushes the thoughts away as the adrenaline and the extreme fear he experienced subside. He stands up just as a group of young people enter the bar chatting and laughing loudly already wasted probably bar hopping. As they settle, he reaches for his wallet to pay for the shots and leave as soon as possible. He misses you, but he needed some time to think those things through before seeing you. He didn't want you to see him in that state and god forbid to snap at you. As he gathers his stuff and begins to leave, one of the girls comes forward "where you goin, handsome? You seem kinda wasted. Do you need a ride?" 'Wasted my ass, just say you wanna get laid' he thought but replied coldly "Home. And no." "Well, it's still early. We can go to my place" she slurrs her words as her hand starts to touch his bicep which he quickly shakes off and states firmly "I have a wife who I love very much and I miss her as I haven't seen her for a while because of work. So please step aside so I can leave." He speaks to her calmly and tries not to be overly aggressive and harsh as she is quite young and apparently drunk. She gets out of his way disappointed and he starts walking towards the door but he stops and turns around "Oi!" The girl turns her head "Stop inviting random strangers to your house!" Then he leaves and gets into a cab to finally come home to you.

comments/reblogs are greatly appreciated ♥

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #cod x reader #ghost x reader #cod fanfic #ghost cod #cod ghost #ghost call of duty #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod #mw2 #cod modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty x reader

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automaticllamacycle · 11 months ago

Note

May Jesus forgive me for what I’m about to say.

Making matty jealous at an industry party until he spanks you and fucks you so hard afterwards

I am going to be combining this ask with this one that I got because they will fit will together hehe : literally matty just fucking you RELENTLESSLY like that man is not stopping until your actually crying like tears are flowing down your face

Disclaimers: reader is quite drunk during the sex, but I'm acting like this is in the dom/sub au I (kinda) have going on so they are in a very committed relationship and have discussed situations like this before! Anyways now onto the horny thoughts (even though im writing this more like a traditional fic)

this ended up being like 1.5k words. It is now 2am so it is NOT proof read, like not even a once over I am SLEEPY

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

industry parties are the worst. You despise them. Its all the same every time. You would show up with Matty, have a few drinks of alcohol, and hang by Matty's side while he talked with people from the label. It got old really fast in all honesty.

Tonight you just wanted his attention more than anything, and you are determined to have it by the end of the night. You arrive to the party on his arm and the same old pattern begins as he's dragged away by Jamie to go talk to someone. Without Matty at your side, you excuse yourself to the open bar. One drink turns into two, which turns into three before you even realize it.

You planned this out beforehand. You thought to yourself, maybe if you got a bit drunk and needy, you could convince Matty to take you home early. After drink number three you walk over to Matty, and lean to whisper in his ear. "Baby, can we go home? I'm tired of this."

Matty can tell you're a bit tipsy from your mumbled speech. "Sweetheart, this stuff is important I can't just leave because you want to leave."

"But Matty-" you start, putting on pleading doe eyes. He cuts you off before you can finish your sentence.

"I said no. Now, go on, it shouldn't be too much longer, anyway. You can be patient."

So, you found yourself back at the bar, with another drink. You've had too much, but you don't really care. Too pissed at Matty to really give a shit.

After another hour passes you stumble back over to Matty. The liquid courage must be working because you don't even care about the fact he's talking to people. You nearly crash into his side when you reach him. "Matty! Can we go now?" He shoots you a glare instantly before turning back towards the two men he was speaking with.

"Sorry guys, this is my girlfriend Y/N. Please, continue on with what you were saying!" Matty's hand is around your waist in a bruising grip. His lips quickly come up to your ear to speak in a dark tone. "Behave."

You do behave... for a total of five minutes, then you get needy again. You start small, leaning into his side and placing your arm on his chest. The alcohol dulls your rational thinking enough that you have no shame in your next actions, reaching up to kiss him on the neck. Matty laughs off the kiss, not so much as turning his gaze to you, continuing to listen to the men speaking to him. His grip on your waist tightens. He's starting to get mad.

You don't stop. Your hand paws at his chest while you balance on your tip toes to whisper in his ear. "Please, sir. I need you-"

Matty steps away fast, not letting you connect your lips to his neck again. "Haha- sorry lads I think it's time I take her back home. Jamie is right over there and would be happy to answer any other questions you two might have." And with that Matty's hand firmly grips your wrist and pulls your behind him, out the door, and to his car.

Once your on the road, he finally speaks after giving you the silent treatment. "What the fuck was that? Were you trying to embarrass me? You know it's important that I talk to people like that at these things."

"I'm sorry- I just wanted your attention."

"And you thought the best way to do that was to beg me to fuck you in front of those guys?"

"I whispered it!"

"Whispered? You call that a whisper? I'm almost certain they heard you. How much have you had to drink tonight."

"Uhm... I lost count."

"No shit."

The rest of the car ride was filled with silence. When you arrive at his place, he doesn't even go around to open your car door, instead heading straight to the front door of his house. Once your both inside, he sits down on the couch. He's angry. Really fucking angry.

"Bend over my knee. Right now." You don't dare disobey him. That would only increase your punishment. You lean your body over his legs, giving him access to your ass. Matty flips up your dress to reveal your lace underwear that is already soaked through.

"I'm sorry sir- I- I promise I didn't mean to embarrass you. Just wanted you so bad." You flinch when his hand strikes your ass.

"Fucking slut. Just because you didn't mean to doesn't mean you avoid getting punished." You gasp as his hand comes down again, just as hard as the first strike. "Besides." His hand spanks you again. "You knew what you were doing when you decided to order all those drinks didn't you?" His hand hits you again, showing no mercy. "Needed some courage before you could be such a whore in public, huh?"

"Yes- yes sir- I knew what I was doing. I'm sorry." Matty's satisfied with your answer, but that doesn't stop the onslaught of his hands. You'll be bruised for at least a week. He wants you to remember this every time you sit down. He wants you to remember and learn from the punishment.

By the end of it, you're sobbing. The strikes were becoming too much, and you needed him to touch you. "Matty- p-please I- I need you, please."

"Have you learned your lesson?"

"Yes, sir. I'll never do it again. I promise." you say through choked sobs. Without warning Matty carries you to the bedroom and throws you onto the bed before he starts taking off his clothes. He's hard through his boxers, which are soaked with precum. You follow suit and take off your dress, wincing as you take the lace of your underwear off of your ass.

Matty's on top of you the next second, his cock at the entrance of where you need him most. "You know, I shouldn't even give you my cock. Only good girls deserved to get fucked."

"No! no no no! Please. I need you, I need you so bad." Tears flow down your cheeks.

Matty enters you suddenly, filling you to the hilt. He gives you no time to adjust to his size as he begins pounding into you. "Fine. I'll give you my cock." He groans out. "But I'm going at my fucking pace and you're going to take it."

His hips move rapidly, thrusting into you hard. All you can do is wrap your legs around his waist and dig your nails into his back. The moans that leave your mouth are desperate. Your cries fill the room, along with the sounds of skin meeting skin. Matty's pace is near animalistic.

Matty flips your over so you're on your stomach. You don't have the strength to hold yourself up, completely pliant on the bed. "Poor thing can't hold herself up? Thought you wanted me to fuck you?" he groans, continuing his fierce pace. The new position allows him to go even deeper into your cunt. It's all becoming too much.

"Matty-" you cry. "It's too much- I can't"

"Take it. Be my good girl and take my cock. You were fucking made for me." One of his arms wraps around your waist, pulling your up so your back is up against his chest. He uses his other hand to hold onto the headboard of the bed, steadying himself so he can thrust into you even faster.

"Matty- shit I can feel you in my stomach- fuck-" At your words, his hand shifts lower on your waist, pressing over where his cock bulges in your stomach.

"Yeah? You feel that?" He presses down harder, making a whine leave your throat. "Only I can do this to you. Your cunt is made for my cock." You moan out in agreement, drawing closer and closer to orgasm, and Matty is getting close too. "You gonna come for me? Gonna milk my cock?"

"Yes- yes sir- please."

"Go on then come for me." When he speeds up the pace of his hips, you're a goner, falling into the waves of an orgasm. The pleasure overwhelms you, pulsing through your veins. You cry out his name over and over again as he fucks you though it.

Matty is not far behind. It only takes a few more thrusts before he cums inside of you, filling you up deep inside. As soon as he's finished, he practically collapses on top of you. He takes the time to trail kisses on the back of your neck as you catch your breath and come back down to earth.

"You did good for me, baby. Did you learn your lesson?"

"Yes, sir."

"That's my girl. Let me take care of you now."

#matty healy smut #matty healy x reader #matty healy fanfic #matty healy #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 smut #i am now going to bed i am so tired #part of me fears this is shit #thats what happens when i start writing at 12:30am #pancake anon youre next dw it should be out by sunday

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harley-sunday · 2 years ago

Text

Champagne Supernova

Summary: You literally stumble into Charles Leclerc one evening and somehow end up with custody over his tuxedo jacket? Weird. Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader [f] Warnings: None Word count: 2.7k AN: Sometimes an idea just *mimics explosion with hand* pops up all of a sudden and won't go away until you write it down (I mean, I was literally in bed already but…). So here we are Also, written on mobile (eL, don't @ me) so apologies in advance for shitty formatting and for not editing. Also², I live for validation so comments and reblogs are very much appreciated! That is, if you like it, of course :)

It’s warm inside the ballroom of the hotel you’re in and so you’re trying to fan yourself with a copy of tonight’s program because now that the formal part of the evening is over it really doesn’t serve any use anymore other than to help you cool down. You’re standing in the corner of the room, close to the bar, observing the crowd - Monaco’s elite; a strange mix of old money and self made millionaires that have come together for tonight’s fundraiser.

You don’t belong to either of those groups but instead are here because the PR agency you work for somehow got selected to promote the event. It meant a lot of overtime in the past two months for the entire team and so your bosses - Olivier and Claire, a happily married couple with two kids, a dog, and a perfect work-life balance (of course) - promised you and your colleagues a seat at one of the tables and thus an open bar for the evening very early on in the process to make up for all the early mornings and late nights.

Dinner was a drawn out affair with seven small courses, entirely too much red wine, and a slightly boring silent auction reveal that took way too long for your liking. The promise of an after-party kept you from leaving early but it’s Monaco, it’s rich people, and so you could and should have known that their idea of an after-party is more champagne, bragging about who paid what despite it being a silent auction, and a guy with a comb-over and an ill-fitting tuxedo playing the piano, dragging out “Les Lacs du Connemara” way beyond the six minutes the song usually takes.

Next to you, Olivier and Claire are having a small domestic because Claire, slightly intoxicated, wants to stay but Olivier, scarily sober, has promised the babysitter they’d be back before one. Your other two colleagues are trying to persuade (read: threaten) the piano guy into playing “Sweet Caroline”, and you are feeling more miserable by the minute - one of your shoulder straps keeps sliding down, there’s a headache coming on, and your feet hurt like crazy in the stilettos you had no time to break in, so to say you are over it and ready to go home would be an understatement.

You wait for a lul in Olivier and Claire’s argument before you turn to them and tell them, “I’m heading out, ok? I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Olivier nods but Claire starts to protest and grabs your wrist, “Babe. Stay.”

You shake your head and try to free your hand but Claire doesn’t let go. Looking at Olivier for help you tug again but her fingers remain deadlocked around your wrist and you know it’s because she’s drunk and wants someone in her corner when Olivier decides to stand his ground and make her go home in about five minutes or so, but it is annoying as fuck and so you pull a little harder and start to walk away. “Claire,” you warn her, “let go.”

She still doesn’t.

Until all of a sudden she does and it makes you stumble forward and bump into someone and then everything seems to happen at once - you flail your arms trying not to topple over, reaching out for something- Anything you can hold onto. It’s the arm of the guy you bumped into but as you steady yourself against him he loses control of the drink he’s holding, a quiet, “Oh, merde,” your only warning before-

“Holy shit, that’s cold!” You jump backwards in shock, fingers plucking at the fabric of your dress as you try to stop the liquid from dripping down in between your boobs while quietly cursing your best friend who made you wear this stupid dress with its stupid plunging neckline in the first place. The fabric is already clinging to your skin, your chest and stomach absolutely soaked and you look around for an easy exit, first to the toilets maybe, to save yourself from the horrified looks around you and any further embarrassment but then you see a stack of white napkins appear in your field of vision and before you know it you are being pat down by the man who’s drink you’re now wearing.

“I am so sorry,” he mumbles while trying to dry your dress but the napkins are white and your dress is black and so all it does is leave a trace of little pieces of fluff all over your stomach but before you have a chance to say anything he’s grabbed a new stack of napkins and goes for your chest-

“Stop! Stop, stop, stop.” You shake your head and take the napkins from him, gently pushing his hands back with a smile, “I got this.”

“Shit, sorry.” He runs a hand through his hair and is blushing like crazy, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok,” you tell him as you’re blotting yourself now. “I mean, I’m the one who bumped into you, right?” The napkins really aren’t helping and so you give up with a frustrated sigh, looking up for the first time then, letting out a quiet, “Oh,” when you see the man standing in front of you. Jesus Christ, he’s hot. And apparently still upset because he stares at you with his beautiful green eyes as if he wants the ground to swallow him whole. Even though you’re the one who could enter, and maybe even win, a wet t-shirt contest this very second which you think is ten times more embarrassing.

“Let me at least do something to help,” he tries, reaching out his hands to you again but then thinking better of it. “Really. Anything. I mean, I will pay for the dress of course, but-”

He seems so flustered that you can’t help yourself, “Well, considering you almost went to second base just now-” you say with a wide smile and a pointed look between his hands and your chest, “-it would be nice to at least know your name.”

This makes him chuckle and earns you a smile in return, “I’m Charles.”

“Nice to meet you, Charles,” you say, meaning every word of it, and then introduce yourself. When you lick your lips you taste the champagne he spilled on you and can’t help but laugh, “What a waste of that Veuve Clicquot, though, huh?”

“I’m more worried about your dress, to be honest,” he counters with a grin.

“What? This old thing?” You motion for him to come forward and when he does you put your mouth close to his ear and whisper, “Between you and me, I think the champagne was more expensive.”

He chuckles again when you pull back and you can’t help but fall for him a little, the way he scrunches his nose something so- Adorable? Hot? You’re not sure. Either way, you want to see more of it, you decide. Charles still looks as if he’s ready to go into purgatory and so somehow you’re not really surprised when he tries again, “I mean it though. Anything I can do to make up for this.”

You look around then and even though most of the crowd has gone back to their smalltalk there are still some curious onlookers that seem way too invested in this, making you feel very exposed all of a sudden, and so, well, if he insists… “Maybe you could lend me your jacket for a hot sec and escort me out of here?”

“Of course,” he replies, already taking his tuxedo jacket off. He hesitates for a second but then drapes it over your shoulders anyway, “There.”

Instead of a ‘thank you’, a distracted, “Uhu,” comes out because it’s only now, when you see the way the white dress shirt is stretched across his arms and chest, that you see how muscular he is. He’s- Not broad but definitely athletic and you wonder what kind of sport he’s into. Before you have a chance to ask though he’s absentmindedly rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and you can feel your mouth go a little dry at the sight of his tanned, veiny forearms and hands. A fleeting thought of just how much you could make him apologize with those long fingers gets quickly pushed back when he holds out his arm for you to loop yours through.

“Come on,” he says and nods towards the exit. “Let’s get out of here.” He guides you through the room with ease and doesn’t stop when you reach the foyer, instead making you follow him outside where he nods at the valet.

“I didn’t drive here,” you start, because somehow you figured it’s your car he wants them to get.

“I know. Well-” he chuckles then, “-I don’t actually, but I’m making him get my car so I can drive you home. Or your hotel. I mean, I don’t want to assume-”

“Home,” you quickly reassure him. This time you remember your words and your manners, “Thank you.”

“It’s the least I can do.” He leads you down the front steps when the valet pulls up with his car, a black Ferrari Pista Spider that you can’t help but silently admire, and doesn’t let go of you until you’ve reached the car and he’s opened the door for you.

You try to keep the wet part of your dress from touching anything inside the car as best as you can, offering a quiet, “Sorry,” when Charles slides into his seat.

He tuts, “Don’t worry about the car, ma chérie."

And, oh- That’s- Nice. And a complete one eighty from how flustered he was mere minutes ago. Huh. Interesting.

If he does notice you clearing your throat to distract yourself, he’s kind enough not to mention it. Instead he starts the car, the engine absolutely purring to life, and turns to you with a grin, "Where am I taking you?”

Right here and right now please, you almost say, but you don’t think that’s what he meant and so instead you tell him, “Take a left at the stoplights and then a right at the next.”

As you guide him through the streets of Monaco you find out he’s an F1 driver with Ferrari who was actually born and raised in Monaco. He tells you how he’s on a three-week summer break until the end of August when the second half of the season starts with a race in Belgium. In return you tell him how you moved here three years ago when, after college, you got offered a job by Claire and Olivier.

All too soon, because sometimes Monaco really is nothing more than just a small town on the French Riviera, he pulls up in front of your house with an almost apologetic smile, “Here we are.”

“Here we are,” you echo with a nod. It’s silent for a moment before you decide to just put yourself out there, something about doing it now or forever wishing you had, “Would you like to come in? I could get changed and give you your jacket back? You might want to wash it though, I think there’s some wine- It probably needs to go to the dry cleaner’s, right? I don’t think it can go in the washing machine-” You hear yourself starting to ramble and so you close your eyes for a second and try again, “What I meant was: Would you like to come in for a drink?”

“I would love to but- I can’t,” he says and there’s something about him that makes you believe he’s telling the truth and that he’s sorry about it. “I have some auctioned pieces I still need to sign and I have to take a photo with the highest bidder in-” he looks at his watch and lets out a humorless laugh, “-ten minutes.”

“That sucks,” you tell him because apparently you’re now just speaking your mind without being eloquent about it.

He nods slowly, “It kind of does.”

Oh. Ok.

“Take the jacket,” he says then, “I can come pick it up later.”

Wait. What?

“Later tonight, or?”

He shakes his head, “No. Later as in, next week or something.”

“Oh, ok, yeah, that’s- Yeah, makes sense.” No need to stumble over your words, you think, you took your chances and it didn’t work out. It’s fine. It’s just that the 'or something’ kind of hurts.

He must see the disappointment on your face because he quickly adds, “I mean, so I can see you again. Later. When I’m not in a rush and you’re not covered in champagne.”

You can’t help but laugh, your mind once again too quick for your own good, “Who says I won’t be?” You let the words hang in the air with a raised eyebrow and it takes a few heartbeats but then Charles laughs as well, a burst of laughter that you want to hear again and again. You grin at him, “What?”

“You are something else,” he says, shaking his head. He reaches for his phone then, unlocks it, and hands it to you, “If you add your number I could maybe call or text you?” There’s a shy smile playing on his lips then, “About the jacket, I mean.”

“Are you sure you don’t want it back now?”

“No, that’s ok. My brothers are at the party as well. I can just take one of theirs.”

“Sure?” You try one last time.

“Sure.”

“Ok.” Your fingers fly over his screen then, adding yourself to his contacts before you hand him the phone back. Locked. A wicked grin on your lips, “Let’s see if you remember my name- Later.”

“Oh, I will.”

“Good.” You lean over the center console then and press a kiss to his cheek, “I’ll be seeing you then.”

“You will,” he says with a bad attempt at a wink, which so far seems his only flaw.

“Thank you for driving me home,” you say as you climb out of the car while trying not to flash anyone even though there’s no one around. A kind smile then as you close the door, “Drive safe.”

“Always.” He gives you a quick wave and then he’s off, the rumble of the engine echoing through the almost empty streets of the city.

***

He doesn’t call. Or text. And so his jacket moves from your living room, where it was draped over a chair for the first three weeks, to the guest bedroom slash your home office, this time draped over your office chair. Every now and then you catch a hint of his cologne and so you still aren’t able to really forget about him.

At the beginning of November you’ve come to terms with the fact that you’ll probably won’t see him again, that you probably made a bigger deal out of it than it was, that he probably doesn’t even remember you - your name just another girl added to his contacts because he was simply trying to be nice - and so at some point you move the jacket to inside the closet in the guest bedroom, telling yourself that the only reason you won’t throw it away is because it’s Armani and expensive as fuck.

You’d like to say you’ve forgotten about both the jacket and Charles once December rolls around but that would be a lie. You’ve actually started to follow the remainder of the F1 season and saw him come second in the World Driver Championship. A warm feeling settling somewhere inside your chest whenever you see him getting doused in champagne by his teammates or rivals, taking you back to the night you met.

He’s been on your mind more than ever and when your phone rings one night, an unknown, private number calling you, you somehow know it’s him and so you answer with a cheeky, “The jacket you are trying to reach is no longer available. Please try again later.”

He lets out a laugh, that same laugh you drew from him in his car all those months ago, and it’s like no time has passed at all. “Salut, ma chérie, I’m sorry for not calling any sooner but-”

“Don’t try to sweet talk your way back into our lives, Leclerc,” you say as you take another bite of the apple you were eating.

“Our?”

“The jacket’s and mine,” you reply. “We are doing quite well for ourselves.”

“Hmm,” he hums. “Is that so?”

You nod even though he can’t see you, “Yeah.”

“I’d like to come see that for myself.”

“Hmmm,” you draw out. “We might be able to arrange a supervised visit. When would you-”

Your doorbell rings then and you hear it both in your house and echo through your phone and- Oh. Shit.

Charles chuckles in your ear, “Now?”

===

AN: I am so sorry for this very unsatisfying open ending. It was the best I could do for now... *sends hugs to those affected*

#F1 Fanfic #Charles Leclerc x reader #Charles Leclerc imagine #Charles Leclerc x you #CL16 #Harley Sunday x Charles Leclerc

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yyawnjun · 3 months ago

Text

INTAK as henna artist

from my serie: P1HARMONY STUDIO

What kind of would ever get a henna tattoo, that would last at least three weeks, on an entire arm, just to hang out with an attractive henna artist? You, you were the idiot <3

a.n.: once again here's the other star of this sweet collab @sobun1est @gfnextdoor <3 ; 3.4k wc ; all of these words for intak (actually the yn) and i am so happy to make all of these girlies friends ; i recommend to read keeho's pt before this one <3

event taglist : @tkooooop @astro-doll-the-star @kflixnet (send an ask to be added)

“One more drink and then we go, what do you think?” you said while talking to your friend, Rose.

On that evening she choosed to not drink too much because she had to start her shift early the next morning.

She recommended you to do the same because on the next day you would need to go with her to work, in order to schedule an appointment to finally meet the boy you had been eyeing off for a while.

Intak, Hwang Intak, was the boy.

He worked as a henna tattoo artist at the P1HARMONY studio, where your friend worked as a secretary for years.

At that moment you were watching him as he was dancing in the middle of the room. You were feeling tipsy and your head appeared lighter as you sipped the drink that your friend had brought you. However, you were not drunk enough to be brave enough to go to talk to him.

You had multiple opportunities to speak with him, and Rose, who works with him, would have been happy to arrange a date for you two. But you always turned down opportunities because you were shy and always hesitant.

You chose to schedule a henna tattoo appointment for the next day instead of going to talk to him right away...it appeared easier to you.

Thanks to your research you knew he was very talented, and thanks to your friend you knew his schedule was surprisingly empty the next day.

The following day, you would have time to visit his workshop and allow him to take care of your tattoo. That way you would finally get to know him more! (maybe even ask him out...)

At that point in the evening, you were fantasizing of a perfect future in which you would go out together, go on a date, fall in love, get married, and move in together with three children and a cat.

As your thoughts drifted to that, you couldn't take your eyes off of him as he danced on the floor. He moved with such lightness and freedom. With his eyes closed and a smile on his face, it appeared as though he was lost in the music and not aware of anything around him. and he had never seemed beautiful to you. He was probably so attractive because of the amount of alcohol in your system as well. The club had loud music playing, and as time went on, less and fewer people were dancing.

Until he was the only one dancing.

You really wanted to go to him and maybe you would have done it, you would have overcome your shyness just to be closer to him, if another girl hadn't appeared...

Before paranoia replaced the pleasant feeling, your friend brought you back to the real world.

“Girl, it's getting late, let's go back home” she said.

You nodded and moved to take your things and leave. You quietly followed Rose when she asked if she might first stop by and say hi to some of her other friends. She had gone up to a girl and two boys in the group. The girl and the boy with black hair and back tattoos were holding hands, and the tall boy with platinum blonde hair was leaning against the wall, and they were talking and laughing.

Those must have been Keeho, Theo and his girlfriend, you thought. As you approached you noticed her tattoo of a water lily on her arm, and immediately complimented it. She smiled and thanked you. While Rose was greeting the three of them you had time for a quick introduction.

Shortly after, Jiung, who was talking to a girl in a bar corner, became the center of attention for everyone. He looked at her with a light in his eyes that hid nothing of his feelings, while nodding and smiling at her.

"That boy with reddish hair and piercings, who is finally trying to talk to his historic crush, is Jiung." Keeho explained to you.

"While Intak is that embarrassing boy with short black hair who danced all night and who...just fell asleep???" he told you.

Everyone immediately turned around, and you all burst out laughing at the funny scene of the boy asleep on the sofas.

“We’ll wake him up, so we can say goodbye before we go” Rose promptly suggested.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you thanked mentally your friend. In that absurd situation would you finally be able to talk to your crush?

You went with your friend, and as soon as you got there, you couldn't help but be charmed by how sweet and peaceful he appeared to be in his sleep.

“Try to wake him up,” your friend told you, giggling.

You approached him awkwardly and put your hand on his shoulder. His face was calm, his hair was still wet from sweating, and he was comfortably curled up on the couches. He began to open his eyes as you made a gentle attempt to move him. When your extremely black eyes met yours, you almost panicked.

“Intak..” you managed to whisper.

“Mh? Where am I?”

“At the disco”

“Am I dead? And you are a Disco Angel who came to get me?” he asked you. There was no hint of irony in his words but you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Your laugh is contagious, Disco Angel” he told you as he also started laughing without really understanding why.

“Give me five more minutes, alright?” he told you before lying down again.

“INTAK COME HERE! THEY’RE CLOSED SOON” Keeho’s voice preceded Theo’s arrival who (not) kindly threw a pillow at Intak to wake him up.

He immediately got up and stood up, made a funny bow to greet you and Rose and headed towards Keeho..still with his eyes half closed.

You and Rose, still laughing, moved towards the exit.

“Girls wait, do you need a ride?” Keeho reached you and offered you this.

You and Rose exchanged a sly glance, and you both nodded.

“Alright, we fit perfectly in the car. It’ll be me, the two of you and Intak. Jiung is still talking to the girl from the bar while Theo and his girlfriend come back with his bike.”

And before you could realize, you were in the back seat of the car next to Intak.

While Keeho was driving and Rose was choosing music in the seat next to the driver.

Intak was still half asleep and before we even moved he fell asleep.

It was a nice and peaceful car ride, and before you knew it, Intak had rested his head on your shoulder and slept soundly.

“Yn, if Intak bothers you you can push him against the window.” Keeho told you after he noticed your funny position in the mirror.

“There are no worries.” you said as the movement of the car started to appear as a calm cradle for you. The calm movements even managed to overpower your racing heartbeat from the dangerous closeness to the boy.

I’ll close my eyes for a moment, you thought. And immediately you fell asleep.

“They would make such a cute couple” were the last words Rose said to Keeho that you heard before finally falling asleep.

The next morning the alarm went off at 7 and despite the headache you threw yourself out of bed.

You immediately went to take a cold shower and get ready, then moved to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for you and your roommate Rose.

She was still asleep in her room when you brought her breakfast to her room.

You woke her up early so she wouldn't be late for work and to express your gratitude for the previous night. You were both ready to go in less than an hour. You would have woken up feeling more fully had you taken a walk before coming to the office.

She was the one who opened the office and entered first. She turned on all the lights and immediately went to the computer to check your appointment.

“Would 5pm be okay today?” she asked.

“Yes, that would be perfect,” you said happily.

You had many hours to get ready, you thanked your friend infinitely and left the place.

You saw the guys you had met the previous evening walking inside the shop as you were leaving. After saying hello to them swiftly, you heard Intak mention Disco Angels just as you were going to put on your headphones. You laughed and carried on moving.

Fortunately, you didn't have a job shift that day, so you decided to volunteer for a while at your regular library.

Then you opted to head home for lunch because it was already 2 p.m., and you began to worry a lot about the appointment.

There were many things to worry about, the first of which was choosing what you would get tattooed….

You had spent hours looking through books and magazines for tattoo ideas after helping out at the library. You had discovered some great inspiration, but nothing had quite convinced you.

You went home thoughtfully, and started cooking.

Once the aroma of lunch entered the kitchen, you were more calm and began to look through other magazines in search of other ideas. You spent the following hour narrowing down your alternatives to three or four that you really loved.

It was now 3:30 pm and you were about to get ready. During the night before you had thought about an outfit so you already knew what to wear. You also took care of curling your hair and putting on light makeup.

You left the house at 4:30, and moved towards the study. As you walked you started to realize that you would have to talk to him, and immediately a shiver hit you.

Everything would be okay, right? RIGHT?

You only live once. And there's no point in worrying about what hasn't happened yet.

Having stated that, you confidently unlocked the study door, went inside, and welcomed your friend. However, your shyness quickly reappeared, and you withdrew to a corner of the room to retreat into your comforting bubble.

You had just started browsing your options for the tattoos on your phone when you felt someone watching you. You looked up and noticed a girl on the other side of the room looking at you. She is beautiful,you thought.

She quickly moved her gaze, perhaps to not make you uncomfortable. But you kept looking at her. She had a unique beauty and such a happy resting face.

If it weren't for Intak you would have definitely had a crush for her.

Minutes passed and you looked at her again, suddenly her expression seemed more worried and sad.

"Hey..uhm can I ask you for some advice?”

the words came out spontaneously from your mouth.

She looked up and nodded.

She stood next to you and you showed her the various hypotheses. Her eyes lit up and she immediately started to talk to you.

You started to chat naturally, and your heart lightened at her words of encouragement for you.

She said that following her makeup appointment with Keeho, she chose to go on a date by herself after a guy turned her down!

You also talked a little about your situation, and you listened to her yapping about her complicated day.

Something familiar interrupted your bubble of peace. It was Intak's voice.

So immediately, you got to your feet and locked your gaze.

You greeted your new friend, and followed Intak into the room after following him along a corridor.

“Welcome” he said after opening the door to the room for you.

The room was quite large, with brickwork on the walls that had a henna-like color. He had an open workspace with a variety of supplies for his tattooing. There were several sheets of paper with sketches of the most varied designs, and everything was a little disorganized on his desk.

The room was well lit by a large window that overlooked a small garden.

“Yn, Rose told me this morning that you would be coming. What do you have in mind for your tattoo?” he said while looking at you.

Although it didn't appear from his look that he recognized you, he was making every effort to remember. He had half closed his eyes and stared into yours during that statement.

You had immediately blushed and looked away, Intak could have been less obvious while doing that...

"I REMEMBER YOU. You are the Disco Angel" he exclaimed after a few minutes while he was watching you.

You immediately burst out laughing at the random statement and nodded.

He, after realizing the embarrassing statement, quickly apologized.

"I am Intak. Nice to meet you" he then said to you.

"Nice to meet you." you replied.

His face had turned a deeper shade of pink, and he had already offered you to take a seat. The conversation quickly shifted to your tattoo theories once you had taken a seat.

He had picked up your phone and looked through the different pictures.

He had briefly scrolled through a bit too much and landed on the picture your friend had sent you from the previous evening, when you and Intak were sleeping together in the car.

He had immediately scrolled back, and for the second time he had apologized.

You were only thinking about how luckily you had been that he hadn't noticed that the picture was in your album of favorites; while he was mentally slapping himself for how ridiculous he appeared the first time you met.

“I like all these ideas! What do you think about…” he had immediately started to say to you and then took a sheet of paper and started to draw hypotheses.

He had gone silent and left his hand free.

You had then agreed to tattoo your entire arm(oh the power of love..).

As he sketched more, you realized how much the boy had already calmed you down. You returned to observing him as he drew, grinning at the concept. His gaze was intense and his tongue was sticking.

“What do you think?” he had said to you, lifting the paper after a few minutes.

With a not insignificant effort, you had torn your gaze from him and moved it on the paper.

“I really like it, it would be possible to move this further down and [...]” you tried to say.

Little did you know that he had stopped listening and all he could do was concentrate on your moving lips..

“Intak, would that be okay?”

“Sure, whatever you want,” he replied. You could have asked him to shave his head or to kill someone and he had just accepted without any questions.

By now neither of you had any idea how your tattoo would go.

(You ended up repeating your idea to him, “just to be sure, because I don’t have a good memory” he lied)

“Yn you have goosebumps… are you cold? Do you want me to turn down the air conditioning?” Intak asked you worriedly. He had no idea of the real reason why you had suddenly started to have shivers and goosebumps.

“No, it’s okay,” you replied

“Let’s get started then,” he said, smiling and preparing the henna.

He had put on his gloves and gently placed his hand on your arm.

At that precise moment he was extremely close to your face since he started from your shoulder. His hand rested delicately on you while the other moved agilely while he used the henna.

“When I’m done we will have to wait a bit for it to dry and then I will use coconut oil to clean the henna that dries. Alright?"

You nodded.

Every word of yours would have been superfluous, and every breath of yours would have first increased your heart rate and then reminded you of the dangerous proximity to the boy’s face.

You tried to concentrate on something else, but immediately went back to observing him. His touch was so gentle and his gaze focused, he has never seemed so attractive.

Not to mention how much he looked up and smiled. Oh how much you wanted to kiss him.

Oh how much he wanted to kiss you, the boy thought. While on one hand he continued to curse himself for the embarrassment he made when he first met you, or on the other he continued to remain concentrated to allow the perfect success of your tattoo.

"Be professional." was all over his thinking, and it kept coming up again and again.

Anyone who would have entered at that moment would have felt the tension between the two of you, the air was starting to feel heavy. The time passed and you felt the need to say something to fill that silence.

“We’re done! Now we have to wait for it to dry.” he said looking at you smiling.

“Woah the tattoo looks so good!” you mumbled looking at your arm covered in henna.

“Let it dry and you’ll see how much more cool it will become” he had replied as he had stood up to throw open the window.

You nodded. Despite the coolness in the room, coming from the garden, you still felt the need to say something.

“Intak..”

And he had turned towards you, and was looking at you with eyes full of lights.

Would you really have had the courage to ask him out?

“I know we don’t know each other well, but I have to ask you a favor.” you said.

A favor? What way to ask a boy out?

“This friend of mine has a crush on Keeho - you lied -. I would like to set them up on a date...but I thought about a double date, would you like to come with me? I mean, I really like you and I know that Keeho might also be interested in my friend, who is at his place getting her makeup done right now.”

And while you hadn’t realized that you had confessed your feelings to him, his heart was beating a thousand times confused if he had really understood well.

“Sure, I'd love to”

And that’s when you realized.

Intak’s gaze didn’t hide anything, he had understood well and you had just confessed your feelings

“Great, you text Keeho and i will go now to ask the friend of mine” you said very quickly before running out of the room to warn your friend and catch your breath, which you had been holding for too long.

What the hell had just happened? Who on earth had possessed you to say those things and come up with that plan?

But first you still had to convince “your friend” (the girl you had just met…) to come on a double date.

“Okay, let's do it,” she said after hearing a bit of your idea.

First part of the plan was setted.

Now it was time to go back into the room and confront Intak.

How could you ever look him in the face after what you had said.

You came back with your gaze lowered and without saying a single word.

“So...I heard you really like me,” he said to you. You were so sure that he had been thinking about how to respond since you had run out of the room.

“Yes, I like you”

He had come dangerously near in the meantime, and you would have punched him if you didn't have a crush on him. He was getting closer to your face, and you could see that he was trembling as well.

“I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable. I am sorry I can go now-” you were saying as you were about to leave.

“Wait.

I really like you too.” he whispered before giving you a quick kiss on the cheek.

A thousand emotions invaded you, you smiled and blushed. Was it all real?

The two of you remained silent for a few seconds, each contemplating the beauty of the other.

The silence was so pleasant and he was so attractive.

Everything was calm.

Everything except that crazy very high voice of someone who from the corridor was shouting the name of your Intak.

“INTAK INTAK INTAK, MY DREAM GIRL JUSY CALLED ME” were the only words you had heard before the door was opened. And revealed Jiung, who with his fist had reached his friend to update them on his relationship status.

“I feel I have interrupted something...sorry” and he closed the door.

You were alone with Intak again. Was everything always so chaotic in that studio? You thought.

He gazed at you with such love, you thought as your heart and your eyes kept moving in his direction.

#p1harmony #k labels #p1h #p1h fluff #p1harmony x reader #p1harmony fluff #intak #intak x reader #p1h intak #[ p1harmony studio ]#hwang intak #hwang intak x reader

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lottesreads · 1 year ago

Text

Why Me? - Part 4

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Mitchell! Female Reader (Callsign Mantis)

Warnings: Cursing, insecurities, pining, mommy/daddy issues, throw up, little bit of angst, mentions of pregnancy, dirty jokes, mentions of death, mentions of being drunk/drinking

Word Count: 6892

Summary: The next morning commences after Bob sleeps over. You tell him things you never thought you'd talk to anyone about, and you both get to know each other a little better.

A/N: I realize now I have no posting schedule, I just post when it's done, so sorry 'bout that! Things are starting to pick up and I cannot wait to get to the next couple of parts, enjoy! And as always, love to know what you think!

Masterlist

Contrary to popular belief, you are actually a very level-headed individual. You made it through the academy and multiple deployments, often as the only woman in your squadron. You pushed back when people tried to knock you down, and you were able to do it by yourself. You didn’t need to call your dad for backup, he often didn’t know just how much shit you had to sit with just because you held his last name. It wasn’t just the Navy that held you in suspicion because of this. Your own flesh and blood held some animosity toward you. You often heard your grandmother tell you how great her daughter’s life could have been, “If your good for nothing father hadn’t come around.” You took it as she meant it: If she never had you.

That’s how it has always been around your mother’s side. She met Mav when he was stationed in Florida, your mother on spring break from her junior year in college. She was barely old enough to drink, but they made quick enough conversation. He was still in his flight suit from work when she walked into the bar with the rest of her friends. Only looking for a little fun she quickly left them in the dust for the man behind the aviators. They spent the entire week together until she had to go back to Ohio. He gave her his number in case she ever found herself back in Florida, and that was it. That is, until about a month later after finals were over and she still had one test to take. It came back positive.

Pete was thrilled to hear back from your mom already, hoping they’d be doing a different kind of catching up. Instead, he was met with the sound of your grandmother yelling at him through the phone. He didn’t hear much, but the few words and sentences he did catch were “pregnant”, “kill you”, and “my baby”, but to be honest he didn’t hear a lot after the first time she said pregnant. To be fair, your dad stepped up to the best ability the Navy would let him. He requested a transfer to be closer to the two of you, calling Carole for advice, and when you were born, she and Bradley even made the journey to see you.

Then there were the deployments. Everywhere he went, Mav seemed to piss off someone, whether it be his Captain, Admiral, or anybody above him who had the power to send him out, they did. Moving to Virginia, your parents tried for the first two years of your life. They really did. Your mother ended up dropping out of school to take care of you while your dad was away. Always citing the Navy for the reason their troubles began. When he was back they’d fight constantly, her saying he was always away, and him telling her that it was his job. She couldn’t stand to look at him anymore. Thus started the arrangement you grew up with. Spending the school year with your mother, and the summers with your dad. Even if he had to leave in the middle, you spent the rest of your time with Carole and Bradley. A great reprieve from your mother’s side. Even from such a young age you felt bad taking away Carole from Bradley, learning guilt from your family very early on. There was one point when Pete was deployed when you were 8, Bradley 14, that you told him this. He told you he felt the same way about your dad and ended the conversation with, “We can share.”

You miss the times when you couldn’t wait to see the two of them. Which makes what happened last night even more bittersweet when you look back on it. Your dad didn’t even think there was conflict between you two, he just saw his kids talking again. That was enough for him. You didn’t even want to think about Carole right now. It always hurt, but knowing that her girl was fighting with her boy would have her smacking the both of you upside the head.

You could practically feel her in your brain the next morning. Either that or your head was pounding from all the tequila and lack of water in your system. From behind your eyelids you can tell the sun is just barely starting to come up. Damn that internal clock. You dare to move your face further into the pillow, but still completely at the feeling of something moving underneath your arm. Your hand lies curled into Bob’s side, the remainder of your arm resting over his stomach. You must have shifted in the night, you on your stomach, Bob’s hand now resting on your arm. His head facing toward you, eyes fluttering every couple of seconds, obviously in a deep sleep. He looks so peaceful like this, it almost stops your heart from beating out of its chest.

You take slow, measured breaths, praying you don’t wake him up. Not wanting to leave the only moment thus far that you’ve seen Bob completely at peace. Your eyes get caught wandering over the same few freckles across his nose and cheeks. As you admire the appearance of each dot, you are made painstakingly aware of how close your faces are. Your arm unintentionally flexes around his side and he takes a deep inhale. You close your eyes immediately, scared that you may have woken him up. His hand starts to smooth up and down your arm as you try to quiet your breathing. His hand abruptly stops in the middle of your arm as you feel his head lift from the pillow. You are trying your darndest to quiet your breathing all while your heart rate is skyrocketing. An impressive feat you are hoping Bob doesn’t catch on to. His head falls back to the pillow as you hear him let out a breath. He hasn’t dared to lift his hand from your arm quite yet, it still lingers, his fingers now tracing small shapes.

Oh god that was even worse. Feeling his hand wrap around your arm gave you butterflies. But now he was being so- delicate. Drawing deliberate shapes and patterns, none of which you could decipher. He was fully aware of what he was doing and now so were you. Your chest begins to feel light until the butterflies in your stomach are absolutely lurching. Wait, no you were going to be sick. Your eyes shoot open, alerting Bob, as you untangle yourself from the sheets and run toward the bathroom. Barely making it in time your stomach promptly evacuates whatever was left in there from last night. You can’t even hear Bob follow you in, but are made aware of his presence as he holds back your hair and rubs your back. Even as you’re puking up your guts, you take a moment to acknowledge just how touching the gesture is. And then you feel immediately guilty for letting Rooster get to you last night and ruining the plans you made with Bob.

Once you’re absolutely sure you’re finished, Bob helps you stand as your eyes meet in the mirror. He grabs your toothbrush, applying some toothpaste and handing it to you.

“You feeling ok?”, he asks as you begin to brush your teeth. You close your eyes and nod, not finding the strength to look at him quite yet. “Where do you keep your pain meds?”. You spit and rinse your mouth, continuing to lean over the sink.

“Cupboard to the left of the fridge”, you grumble. Just as soon as he’s gone, Bob reappears right next to you with a couple pills and a glass of water. You graciously accept the drugs and sip the water. You spare a glance in the mirror and catch Bob’s eyes. He had put his glasses on at some point, but was still sporting the sweatpants you lent him. It seemed weirdly intimate and almost fitting to see him in your clothes as well as in your bathroom. Oh god. This poor man had to put up with you all night and had to carry your drunk ass up the stairs. You place your hand over your forehead in embarrassment. “Oh god.”

“What’s wrong, you gonna be sick again?”, concern etches into his voice.

“No it’s not that. I’m just- I’m so sorry I ruined your night.”

“My night wasn’t ruined.” This has you opening your eyes once again and turning to Bob.

“How did I not ruin your night? You were supposed to go out and play pool, not carry your drunk coworker up the stairs and have to crash at her place.”

“Ok, first thing: If I recall correctly we did play pool. Number two: I offered to drive you home and then carry you up the stairs. And number three: I crashed here because I wanted to make sure you were ok. I didn’t feel right leaving you drunk and alone.” He seemingly and very purposefully left out the part where you practically begged him to stay in your bed. And you are grateful for that. The levels of empathy and generosity radiating from this man are astronomical. After getting through the exterior of anxiety and doubt, there is a big old softy in there.

“Well, thanks for doing all that. You didn’t have to.” You shyly offer.

“I wouldn’t have been able to sleep if I didn’t make sure you were taken care of.” You look up and share a small smile with him. Seemingly meeting your embarrassment and his kindness in the middle. But your head is still pounding as you wince at the light coming through the door. As if he could read your mind, Bob closes the blinds to your bedroom alleviating the pain slightly. “Let’s get you back to bed.” You blindly take his arm as he leads you to your bed once more, allowing you to get situated before he comes back. The bed dips as he sits next to you, “Fair warning, I’m gonna place this rag on your forehead, ok?”

“Ok”, you whisper. Bob gingerly smooths the cool rag over your head and places the glass of water on your nightstand.

“Now that I know you haven’t died during the night-”

“How can you be so sure? It doesn’t feel that way”, he lets out a small huff of laughter.

“Because you still have the ability to be a smartass. It’ll be a cold day in Hell when you don’t have a quick comeback.” You smile at his use of the word ‘smartass’. You want to take it with a grain of salt, but hope it means he’s more comfortable around you to finally swear.

“Robert, such language.”

“I know I know, just don’t tell my mama.” You open your eyes a crack at the use of his southern drawl, smiling. He’s smiling right back at you, breaking the contact finally as he clears his throat. “Anyway, I’ve gotta get home to Sylvia. But I’ll be back later if you’re feeling better to go grab your car.” You reach out to grab the nearest thing to you, which happens to be his hand.

“Bob, I didn’t even think about my car. I am so sorry. I’ll just walk over there-”

“Hey it’s fine”, he squeezes your hand, “I only live about 10 minutes away, it’s not that big a deal.”

“After this you better be able to call me your friend. You took care of me while I was drunk and held my hair back as I puked. That’s as close as two people can be.” He smiles at your tired words. Of course he wanted to be your friend. He wanted to be more, but he would take anything you were willing to give him. And therefore what the Navy would allow. But he shouldn’t get ahead of himself. It still baffled him why you would want to talk to him in the first place, but here you are. Bonding over the fact that he took care of you. It wasn’t even a question in his mind, he was always going to make sure you were ok.

“Of course you’re my friend”, taking a look down at your still connected hands he realizes all the compromising positions he’s put you in during the last 12 hours. Deciding this is still too intimate for friends, he slips his hand out of yours and stands. “I’ll be back later if you’re feeling up to it.”

“If you insist.” Bob grabs his pants from their folded position on your dresser as well as his phone, looking back to you for one last glance.

“Oh I do.” He taps the door frame, “Get some sleep.” Your eyes slip shut as you succumb to a sleep you would classify as coma-like. You don’t even hear the front door close, Bob being mindful and shutting it as quietly as possible so as not to disturb your headache further.

Bob couldn’t help the smile that crept on his face the entire drive back to his place. You wanted him to be your friend. You wanted to spend time with him. And more importantly, he would be seeing you again later. He didn’t even care he saw you throw up this morning, he still thought you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Not to mention you were funny as hell and strong-willed. You didn’t back down when Rooster had confronted you, and you ended up beating him in pool, drunk. Thinking of how amazing you are had the smile slipping from his face. What exactly did you see in him? Even just as a friend, what could he have to offer you?

He all too soon pulls up to his driveway, noticing Phoenix’s car waiting for him. He furrows his brow, she never said she was coming over. He makes his way to the front door, unlocking it and walking in. He’s greeted by the sound of paws on the hardwood floor running towards him. Sylvia stretches her back legs jumping up on his chest.

“Hey girl!”He greets her with head scratches, gently resting her front back on the floor. Hearing him enter, Phoenix frantically rounds the corner and lets out a sigh of relief.

“Oh thank god. Where the hell have you been?!” She looks him up and down once, face contorting in confusion, “And who the hell’s pants are you wearing?”

“I crashed with Mantis, she was pretty drunk and I didn’t feel right leaving her alone. Why are you here?”

“Because you haven’t answered your phone all night or this morning! I was worried about you.” Bob grabs his phone from out of the pocket of your pants, realizing he left it on do not disturb. There in all their glory are the missed text messages and calls from Phoenix.

“I’m sorry, I put my phone on silent so it wouldn’t wake Mantis up.” Phoenix smiles softly at the notion, but furrows her brow once more.

“Wait, where exactly did you sleep?”

“What do you mean?”

“If you were afraid of your phone going off and waking her up that means you were pretty close.” Bob looks away and rubs the back of his neck. “Bob, answer the question.” The way she squints her dark eyes at him makes him realize she isn’t messing around.

“I was in her room.”

“Did you sleep on the floor?”

“No” He responds quietly, hoping she didn’t hear it. By the way her eyes widen and mouth drops he knows she did.

“BOB!” He quickly holds his hands up in surrender, attempting to clarify the situation.

“I only did because she didn’t want me to leave! I stayed on my side the entire time and I promise you nothing happened.” She huffs out a sigh.

“If Mav finds out you were in his house, in his daughter’s bed-” Bob’s face reddens at her implications.

“Phoenix! Oh my god! You’re making it sound like something it definitely wasn’t”, he rubs his face in his hands avoiding her gaze.

“All I’m saying is, you are literally in her pants right now.” He continues to hide in his hands while Phoenix snickers at her own joke.

“You should go.”

“Oh come on, you’re the one in her clothes! But if it’s making you uncomfortable I’ll stop.” He peeks through his fingers and realizes she’s being sincere. She hears a muffled “thank you” from him as she makes her way to the door. “Good to know you’re alive. We still on for brunch tomorrow?”

“Yeah I’ll be there”, Bob mumbles out, still embarrassed.

“Good, Rachel’s really excited to meet you.” Bob finally looks at Phoenix and smiles, noticing the love-stricken look on her face.

“Well I’m excited to meet her, too.” Rachel and Phoenix have been going out for three months, Phoenix only now taking the initiative to introduce her to her friends. Not wanting to scare her off by bringing her by the Hard Deck. Last night only solidified that she was making the right choice in not doing so.

“See ya later!” she calls out, shutting the door behind her. Leaving Bob alone with Sylvia, he bends down and gives her all the attention she deserves. He takes her head in both his hands and scratches her ears.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here last night”, he says in the baby voice reserved only for her, “Daddy had to go take care of someone. I know, I know. Maybe you’ll meet her someday.” She cocks her head to the side. “But don’t get too attached, that’s gotta be my problem and mine alone.”

True to his word, after texting to make sure you were feeling ok, Bob came over to retrieve your car. After getting a few more hours of sleep and almost throwing up a couple more times, you were able to shower and down a few glasses of water. Then miraculously you put on some clothes and were attempting to do your hair as the doorbell rang. As fast as your legs let you, you cautiously walked down the stairs to open the door. Even with the pills you took earlier this morning, you were still feeling lightheaded. Not even attempting to eat anything after Bob had watched you at your not-so-finest moment.

You open the door and there’s Bob in all his coiffed hair and wire frames glory. Sporting another t-shirt that wraps perfectly around his biceps as well as jeans that hug his legs just right. You really wish you were a pair of jeans right now. You barely even notice he’s holding your neatly folded sweatpants until he holds them out for you to take.

“I washed these for you, thanks for letting me borrow ‘em.” You graciously take them, taken aback by his thoughtfulness. You really shouldn’t be surprised anymore.

“Thanks Bob, you really didn’t have to do that.” He simply shrugs and puts his hands in his pockets, straining his forearms.

“It’s really no problem. How are you feeling?” You move to take the pants back to your bedroom, answering him while climbing the stairs.

“I’m alright, definitely better than this morning, thanks to you.” You return downstairs and find Bob admiring the framed pictures on the walls. Some of you and your dad, some of just you. And of course some of Bradley with his family. He picks up a frame of you, Bradley, and Carole. You were only 10, and didn’t know it at the time, but it was one of the last summers you’d spend with the Bradshaws. “Oh god, don’t look at that.” It was meant to be playful, but scared Bob nonetheless.

“Sorry.”

“No I’m sorry, I don’t want to subject you to pre-pubescent me.” He smiles softly and looks back at the picture in his hands. You’re sporting a great toothy smile and hugging Carole while she sticks out her tongue and Bradley gives you bunny-ears with his fingers. Bob doesn’t think he’s ever seen you smile that wide since he’s met you.

“You look so happy” He watches as you reminisce, your eyes softening while your finger runs over the woman’s face. You don’t look a thing like her, but he notices the similarities in Bradley.

“I was”, you say simply. You clear your throat, breaking the both of you out of the moment. “So, you ready to finally get rid of me?” He lets out a small laugh through his nose. That statement could not be farther from the truth. Bob opens his passenger door for you, almost reaching to help you up, but pulling his hand back before it lands at your waist.

“Good to know it wasn’t my truck that was the problem.” You scoff at him as he slides into his seat, pulling his seatbelt on as you do the same.

“I happen to like your truck Robert, just not so much when I can barely feel my legs beneath me.”

“Glad to hear it.” You both smile at each other until he tears his eyes away to the road to get going. The radio begins to fill the silence with its humming, guitar filling the cab of Bob’s truck. His hands start to sweat as he looks over at you, your eyes closed as your head falls back to the headrest. “How’s your head?”

“Haven’t had any complaints yet”, you mumble. Bob chokes on his spit, eyes widening. Did he hear you correctly?

“What?”, he asks quickly. Your eyes mirror Bob’s as you look over at him, his gaze narrowly avoiding yours as his face heats up. You slap your hand over your mouth, forgetting whose presence you were in.

“Oh my god”, you say behind your hand, taking it away only to rest it in between the two of you. “I am so sorry, it’s a reflex response at this point! Phoenix showed me the Elvira movie while in school and it’s just something we say now.” You start to laugh nervously, hoping to dissipate some of the awkward tension you created. His facade cracks as your nervous giggle continues, he begins to break into a full hearted laugh while your giggle turns into something akin to his. “Bob”, you say as your laughter dies down, “If we’re going to be friends you’re going to have to get used to stupid crap like that.” His smile grows a bit wider, as he imagines himself laughing like this with you more often.

“I could get used to that.”

“Good”, you say, resting your head once again. Trying not to stifle another smile that threatens to take over your face.

“But seriously, how are you feeling?” You let out a large sigh.

“Oh you know, drugs can only do so much.” He knows you’re not letting on to how bad you’re actually feeling as your eyes remain closed.

“Have you had anything to eat today?”

“Oh god no, you were there this morning. I haven’t even dared to try to keep anything down.”

“Well that’s why your head still hurts. You need to absorb the lingering alcohol with some carbs. I know just the place.”

“Ya know I usually have dinner with someone before they sleep over, not the other way around.” Bob’s face still reddens at your remark, but this time he doesn’t shy away from laughing first.

“You know me, always breakin’ the rules.”

Bob pulls off into the parking lot of a small diner, one that had not seen any renovations since at least the 80s. You’re out of your side before he has a chance to open your door. He’s kind of glad you don’t give him the option. He wants to be a gentleman, but doesn’t want to toe the line between friends and something else. He does open the door for you and lets the hostess know it’s just the two of you before getting seated in a small booth close to the back.

You both begin to look over the menu before you speak up, “So, what do you recommend?” He glances up from over his menu before reaching over and pointing at yours. You can’t help but notice the veins bulging out of his hands and forearm as he does so. You keep reminding yourself that friends aren’t supposed to think of each other this way but you just can’t stop yourself from remembering how his hands felt on you. The drag of his long fingers over your arm, and the way his hands gripped your hips-

“They serve breakfast all day, and make a mean biscuits and gravy. But you can’t go wrong with a burger and fries.” Your stomach lurches at the thought and Bob must notice the grimace on your face. “Or, if you’re not feeling up for something that big, they do have good soups. But mama always said that the best cure for a hangover was some nice greasy food.” You smile at the slip of his accent.

“Well, if your mama says so.” His hand retreats as his lips curl up at your mirroring of his accent. The waitress comes over to take your orders, and at his mama’s advice you order a burger and fries. She leaves with the menus as you turn your attention back to Bob. “So, where ya from Bob?”

“I shoulda seen this coming”, he starts to fidget with his hands, drawing your attention back to the long digits.

“What do you mean?”, you respond coyly, feigning ignorance.

“Oh come on, I say ‘mama’ one too many times and people start asking where the twang comes from.”

“Well?”

“If you must know, I’m from West Virginia. Born and raised.” You raise your brows.

“No shit.”

“What?”

“It’s just that I spent every summer with my dad in Virginia. We’ve been next door neighbors this entire time.” Bob allows a slight smile to take over his face, entertained by your excitement.

“Where’d you spend the rest of the year?” It’s your turn to tear your eyes away from him. You try not to let the thought of your mom and her family affect you, but it’s obviously no use.

“With my mom, in Ohio.” Regardless of the fact that Ohio is also a neighbor to West Virginia, you brought up the time with your dad instead. Before he’s able to ask any follow up questions, the waitress comes by with your food, dropping the heaping portions in front of you. You hesitantly take a bite, but instantly melt into it as the first taste hits your tongue. “Shit, that’s good stuff.”

“What’d I tell ya?”, you smile at him through a mouth full of burger while he takes a bite. Opting to slow your roll before you upchuck anything else today, you set your food down and take a drink of your water. “So, your family’s still in West Virginia?” Bob gently sets his burger down and gives you his full attention.

“Yeah, I got an older brother and a younger sister. As well as my mom and dad. They live back on my family’s ranch.”

“So you are full-heartedly a John Denver country boy”, Bob laughs and stares down at his plate.

“I guess I am.”

“So how’d you end up in the Navy then? Assuming your family wanted you to work on the ranch.”

“They just wanted the best for me. One day I picked up a book in the library about planes and I was hooked. Then a Naval recruiter showed up to our high school and told me about the aviation program and here we are.”

“Here we are.” You share eye contact for a quick beat, both smiles growing slowly on your faces once more. You can’t help but feel a little jealous of his family. Both parents just wanting the best for their kids, supporting them no matter what. “I bet your mom’s the kind of person to have a sticker on her car saying ‘Proud Navy Mom’”. He bites his lip to stifle a large grin and you know you’ve hit the nail on the head.

“I plead the fifth.” You break out into a small laugh while Bob admires your smile. He wants to know more about your family but is hesitant to bring up the subject. He decides to go for it anyway, hoping to get to know you a little better than surface level. “I already know about your dad, but I’m assuming your mom wasn’t too thrilled when you joined?” Your hand stops mid-air from bringing the ketchup covered fry to your mouth. You place it back on the plate and dust your hands off on your jeans avoiding Bob’s gaze.

“Uh, no. No she wasn’t. There’s a reason I didn’t tell either of my parents I was going to the Academy, my dad didn’t even know until I sent him a graduation announcement.” Bob’s brow practically raises to his hairline.

“Really, not even your dad?”

“No”, you say shaking your head, “After everything that happened with Bradley I didn’t want to risk him pulling the same bullshit.” “What exactly happened between you and Rooster?” You shake your head again, looking at him this time.

“You don’t wanna hear that.”

“I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t.” Your eyes latch on to his, the sincerity oozing off of him.

“Well, he was like a brother to me. Closest thing I’ve ever had to one, excluding the step-siblings who couldn’t give less of a shit about my existence if they tried. And after my dad pulled his papers to the Academy I never heard from him again. I tried reaching out, and every year I still sent him a text for his birthday. But he never responded.” You swallow and look away from Bob, debating whether or not you’d tell him the whole truth. “And then when I needed him the most he still didn’t pick up. I even left him a voicemail hoping he’d hear it and after six years he’d respond. But nothing. After his mom died, I thought he’d need us more than ever. Turns out he was angry enough to never speak to us again.” You look back at Bob, bringing you down to earth once more. “That was, until this mission. It took them almost dying to get back to each other. That and one weekend in the middle of nowhere, God knows what they talked about.” Bob waits patiently, noticing you struggling to find the words to continue. He continues to nod and stare at you. Not in a pitiful way, but in a way that he wants to understand where you come from. “And I guess I’m still mad at him because both him and my dad got closure. I didn’t. I’m not going to apologize for something my dad did, and I guess Rooster doesn’t think he has anything to apologize for. And now they’re off playing catch-up, and I’m… still here. Not that right here is a bad thing, I’m glad to have your company.”

Bob’s eyes go from understanding to confusion. “If he made up with your dad, that still doesn’t explain why Rooster’s being- “A dickhead?” You cut him off. There’s a small fire behind his eyes now, a look you have never seen on Bob until this point.

“Yeah.” You shrug, going back to your fries.

“I dunno, I’m no psychologist but I think it has something to do with the fact that I started all the smart comments and he’s just getting back at me. Still, I’m angry at him for good reason. I don’t know what his is.” You go back to your food, hoping Bob will notice your want to shift the gears of where this conversation has gone. “But now that you know my tragic backstory, I’m gonna have to kill you.” Catching the way you dissolve into humor, Bob’s face softens as he takes your hand across the table, he seems to be doing that a lot in the past week. You’re not mad about it, not at all. Just.. perplexed. How could you go from barely talking to this man, to sharing some of your darkest secrets with him all within the span of six days?

“Hey”, he brings your attention back to his face rather than your smaller hand in his. His brow turned up in the middle, conveying empathy in the highest degree. “I’m sorry you have to deal with all that, especially by yourself. And you know what, Rooster sounds like a total-” He stops to find the word he’s looking for, you look on waiting to let him see what he comes up with “asshole”, he finishes for himself. Your eyes widen as you take in his words, and that’s when you feel him squeeze your hand in his much larger one. The same hand that traced your arm this morning when he fell asleep next to you, the same one that lifted you up all those stairs, helped you into his car, the same one that pulled you off the ground after your failed exercise, and the same one that is now reassuring you that everything is going to be ok. He can’t know for certain, but for right now everything is better than ok while he holds your hand in his.

You want to tell him how safe he makes you feel, how you want to tell him more about yourself. Something you always had a hard time doing. You squeeze his hand right back and gaze into his ocean-blue eyes. You get lost in them before you’re able to seemingly find the words you’re looking for. They’re in your heart, but you can’t get them to your brain and out of your mouth. You open your mouth to speak, but before you’re able to get anything resembling a ‘thank you’ out, you hear your name being called.

Your head turns in the direction of the voice, as both you and Bob immediately retract your hands from each other. You’re met with Penny and Amelia walking toward the booth you and Bob are seated in. Your heartbeat is racing as you blink rapidly, you barely manage to speak, “Penny, hi!” You glance back at Bob as he rubs the back of his neck, avoiding any eye contact. Why are you so nervous? It’s not like you were doing anything wrong. You were just holding hands across the table with your newly coworker turned friend and getting lost in his gorgeous eyes. Absolutely nothing wrong with that.

“Hey, good to see you made it out of the parking lot alright last night”, Penny remarks as she and Amelia stand before your table. “Not that I had any room for doubt when Bob was the one making sure you got home safe.”

“Right, yeah he made sure I was ok.” You feel a flush take over your face at the prospect of anyone finding out Bob was in your bed last night. Especially your dad’s girlfriend and her daughter. But you know you didn’t do anything wrong, friends share beds all the time. It was purely platonic. “I’m sorry for last night though, won’t happen again.”

She waves her hand, “Don’t even worry about it. You had a little too much to drink in a bar, it happens all the time.” Amelia scoffs at this.

“I heard she got absolutely hammered-”

“Amelia!”Penny scolds her. Bob turns to face the wall, attempting to hide his laugh as you lightly kick his foot. “Anyway, what brings you two here?”

“Oh you know, just pulled off on the way to grab my car. Bob mentioned they have great burgers.” You give him a sly smile, as if it was your own little secret they were the perfect hangover cure.

“That’s exactly why Amelia and I are here. Just having a little date before the bar opens later.” You force a smile as you feel Bob’s gaze on the side of your face. That jealous feeling crawls back up your throat again as you look at the mother-daughter duo. “I thought you would have left already though?” Your brows furrow, breaking you out of your trance.

“Left? For what?”

“Rooster stopped by earlier to grab something for your dad, he was heading out to his hangar earlier today. I assumed you were going with him.” You clear your throat and stare at your hands, twiddling with your thumbs to distract yourself. Your heart drops as you realize, once again, you’ve been left out.

“Um, no. I wasn’t invited.” Screw Rooster, and you know what, screw your dad, too.

“Oh, well. You are always welcome to come over if you ever need or want to.” She seems surprised at the actions of her boyfriend. You make yourself look up at her, plastering on a small smile.

“I know, thanks Penny.”

“We’ll leave you two be. Good to see you both!”

“You, too.” Bob waves at them as you look at your plate, suddenly feeling nauseous again. Your throat starts to tense up as you reach for your water. You are almost 30 for heaven's sake, you should not be jealous of Rooster and your dad. And you sure as hell aren’t going to cry over it.

“Hey-”, Bob starts but is interrupted by the waitress dropping by with the check. You pick it up immediately before Bob can reach for it. “Hey no, let me get that.” You place the check on the seat next to you as you rifle through your purse to grab your card.

“Nope, after everything you did for me last night and today I am not letting you pay.” He goes to open his mouth and you stare directly at him, “Don’t even try Bob.” Sensing the determination in your eyes and voice, he reluctantly allows you to pay.

“That’s alright, I’ll just grab the next one.” You look away as the waitress grabs the bill from you, and surprise coats your features.

“You wanna hang out again? Even after everything that happened in the past 24 hours?”

“Especially after everything. I can’t go back to being just your co-worker after seeing you vomit.” A nervous smile makes its way to his face as a more real one replaces yours.

“You’re right, we’re friends now. And I can promise you there will be less vomit next time.”

“Can’t wait.”

After getting your card back, you and Bob make your way back to his truck and head off to the Hard Deck. You spot your lone car in the back, only a couple employee cars litter the front row. Bob pulls up right next to your car, hopping out and making sure you have everything before you leave. He even goes so far as to open your door for you as you roll your window down to say goodbye.

“Well, I guess this is me.”

“I guess it is.” He rests his hands on the open window as you grab one final look at him. You rest your elbow in between his hands, admiring his veins. Trying not to imagine tracing over them with your fingers.

“You better not ghost me at work on Monday.” You scold him. He laughs through his nose and looks down.

“I promise I won’t.”

“I’m holding you to that, Floyd. And thanks again, for everything.” He taps his fingers a couple times before leaning away.

“I trust you will, Mitchell. Drive safe.” You bid him goodbye, taking a deep breath, trying no to process everything that happened today while driving. Saving all your feelings for when you’re home alone, in the privacy of your room. The only four walls you feel safe to cry in.

Bob watches you slowly drive to the edge of the parking lot. He would have never guessed so many things that he learned about you today. The way you looked at Penny and Amelia deeply saddened him. The fact that Rooster is still being an asshole after he didn’t speak to you for 16 years angered him. After you shared that with him, he wanted to do everything in his power to make you happy. It’s obvious you’re good at putting on a mask, but Bob is good at noticing the little things. How great you are at faking happiness being one of them. And then there’s the fact that after today you’re going home to an empty house because your dad and Rooster made plans without you, yet again.

Before he fully knows what he’s doing, his feet start moving toward your car, hoping to catch you before you leave the parking lot. It must have been the fastest he’s ever run, possibly even faster than when his older brother, Tom, chased him with a handful of cow poop. You must notice him in your rear view, as you stop and poke your head out the window.

“Is everything ok?”, you ask, concern lacing your features. Bob’s out of breath as he gets to your window, once again resting his hands in your car. And he’s still out of breath as he asks his question.

“Do you wanna get brunch tomorrow?”

Taglist:

@lemmons1998

#bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd fic #bob floyd x reader #mavdad #robert bob floyd x female reader #top gun fandom #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #mitchell!reader #bob x mantis

138 notes · View notes

queen-of-deans-booty · 6 months ago

Text

Deadly Proposal: Part Four

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.9k

Warnings: angst, mentions of drug use, drug angst

Summary: Amber is detoxing which is dangerous for everyone. To make matters worse, Dean asks one of his friends to babysit you. You've been marked by Dean for all vampires to know but that doesn't stop Amara from wanting a tiny taste of your blood.

Deadly Proposal Masterlist

Square Filled: clothes sharing (2022) for @spndeanbingo

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

The sound of yelling is what wakes you up. It sounds like your sister so you jump out of bed in fear that she is fighting with Dean. You throw on the first thing you see--Dean’s shirt--and rush downstairs to the kitchen. Amber is fighting the chef like she wants to cook something.

“Amber, stop! What are you doing?” you ask and pull your sister from the chef.

“She won’t let me cook anything!”

“Don’t worry about it. She will cook whatever you want to eat. Sit down.” She does. “I’m sorry.” The chef huffs out in anger before preparing breakfast. Amber rolls her eyes and starts picking at her nailbeds. “You need to calm down, okay? This isn’t home. You can’t boss everyone around when you’re detoxing.”

“Don’t act like you care about me,” she snaps. “You only got me because you had to.”

A surge of anger runs through your veins.

“No, I didn’t have to do shit for you. I could have left you there to fend for yourself. Mom and Dad tried to convince me not to go but I did. I’ve always been the one who was there for you.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” she sighs sadly.

“Stop yelling at people who just want to help you. Chef Sonja works and lives here, okay?”

Amber’s attitude immediately changes when she hears your words. You can’t keep up with her sometimes. She gives you whiplash with how fast she changes her attitude.

“So, you got yourself a private chef, huh?” she smirks.

“She’s not mine. She’s Dean’s chef.”

“Tell me about this Dean.”

She gets up and searches through the fridge for something to drink. She pulls out a half-drunk vodka bottle. You hate she’s grabbing alcohol but you learned quite early never to tell Amber not to do something.

“I met him at a motel on the way to get you. He was at the bar.”

This is technically true but you decide to keep out the vampire part. She wouldn’t understand, and it would only complicate things.

“So, you’ve only known him a few weeks? You sound more like me.” Hate and disgust fill your chest. You don’t comment on it because you don’t want to upset her. You’ll never be like her and she knows it. “Have you fucked him?”

“Amber!”

“What? It’s a valid question.”

You give Sonja a side glance but her back is turned to you as she cooks. That doesn’t mean she’s listening in, though.

“No, we haven’t,” you grit out.

“Why not? I would have,” she shrugs. “Maybe I might.”

“No, you won’t. Leave him alone.”

“Okay.”

“I mean it, Amber. Leave him alone.”

“Okay, Mom,” she rolls her eyes.

You sit with her at the kitchen counter and fiddle with your fingers nervously.

“Listen, Dean only gave you a week to be here.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be out of your hair by tomorrow. My boyfriend is going to pick me up.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Yeah. He’s real classy. He’s got his own car and everything,” she grins.

You honestly don’t know what to say to that. You’re trying really hard not to cry for her right now. She’s your older sister and her life is so sad.

“Who is he?” you ask after a pause.

“Dustin. I met him in jail as he was getting out.”

“What was he in jail for?”

“Drug possession,” she shrugs. She sees the disappointment on your face and waves you off. “He was falsely convicted.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

Sonja plates the food and gives it to Amber who immediately digs into it. She offers you a plate but you politely decline. You leave Amber in the kitchen by herself while you think about her words. Are you really going to let her go off with this man she doesn’t know who may or may not have drugs? Yes, you are. She is not your problem. She made her bed, now she has to lie in it. It’s hard seeing someone you love go through something like this.

You’re not looking where you’re going and run into Dean in the main hallway. His hands grab your shoulders to keep you steady so you don’t fall on your ass. You turn your head away so he doesn’t see the blush on your cheeks but you think he knows.

“Sorry,” you mutter.

“I have to leave for the day but one of my friends is coming to babysit.”

“Are you serious?”

“Maybe if it was just you, I wouldn’t need her but I don’t trust Amber..”

“Her?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he smirks. “Is that a problem?”

“Is she… like you?”

“Yes.” He must see the panic on your face because he immediately eases your concerns. “Don’t worry, I trust her. She won’t hurt you or your sister.”

“Fine,” you sigh.

Dean leaves once his friend comes over, and you’re floored at how beautiful she is. Amara is her name. She walks with purpose and in red-bottom heels. She looks at you with disdain and discontentment.

“He owes me for babysitting a couple of humans,” she rolls her eyes.

This is your chance. This is your chance to get to know Dean since he refuses to answer your questions. This is how you’re going to get to know him. Amara walks into the living room and sits on the sofa with her legs propped up. You follow behind her and stand awkwardly in the doorway.

“Either come in or leave but don’t stand there.”

“Sorry,” you mutter and step inside. “I just… Dean won’t answer my questions. Maybe you can?”

“What do you want to know?”

You sit next to her on the couch and hold your hands close to your body to try and hide how nervous you are.

“I want to know more about him. Does he have any family? If so, where are they? How old is he? How did he become a vampire? What does he do for work?”

“Slow down there,” Amara chuckles.

“Does he have any family?”

“He did once. He doesn’t anymore.”

What does that mean? With the way Amara is looking at you, you know she won’t deliver any more information than that.

“How old is he?”

“Old.”

“How did he become a vampire?”

“Someone turned him.”

“What does he do for work?”

“I don’t think he’d like it if I told you,” she chuckles.

“Are you going to tell me anything?”

“Nope.”

You huff out in annoyance and leave the living room. Instead of entertaining your sister or being Amara’s puppet, you decide to go outside and cut some flowers to make a beautiful bouquet. Dean’s house lacks severe color, and this will give rooms some life. After grabbing shears from the shed, you go outside and start cutting them off their stems. After about an hour of gathering a bunch of flowers, you head back inside the kitchen to cut off the thorns.

You set the flowers down on the kitchen island and pull the trashcan toward you. You’re careful not to prick yourself with the thorns until you’re not. You grab a long-stemmed rose and move too quickly where one of the thorns rip into your hand. You curse and drop the rose onto the counter before assessing your bleeding hand.

Amara has been reading the magazines Dean keeps around when a sweet substance fills her nose. She drops the magazine just as her fangs come out. This isn’t like normal blood. This is something… different. She’s never smelled this kind of blood before, and she’s been around a long time. She knows what all kinds of blood smells like. Dean says not to touch you or your sister but lets the bloodlust take over her logical thinking.

You wash your hands to clean the blood off your hands when Amara rushes into the kitchen with her vampire speed. She pins you to the wall causing you to yelp out in surprise.

“Amara, wha--”

“What is that delicious smell?” She leans in and runs the tip of her nose along your pulse point which is throbbing like crazy. Her nose touches the marks Dean left behind and she growls. You’ve been marked by another vampire. That other vampire being one of her good friends. “You have special blood. I’ve never smelled this before. I just want one tiny sip.”

“Get off me!” you yell.

Amber hears your distress signals and comes rushing into the kitchen. She grabs Amara’s dress and yanks her off you in one swift motion.

“Get the fuck off her!”

Amara looks at Amber with deadly red eyes, and you quickly step in between them so she doesn’t hurt her.

“Back off, Amara, before Dean hears about this.”

She looks down at your bleeding finger with a glare before stalking off.

“What the fuck just happened?” Amber asks.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Don’t worry about it? She was about to attack you! Something weird is going on here.” She looks around the kitchen in thought. “Why would you be with a man you just met, and are now living with him?”

“Please, just drop it, Amber.”

You put your bloody finger in your mouth and lick the blood off before wiping your finger on your jeans. You grab the flowers you already cut and fix them into two bouquets.

“No, this isn’t like you. You’re the good girl. You once refused to move in with Jeremy even though you two had been dating for an entire year. You said you didn’t want to ruin anything. Now, you’re living with a man you met a few weeks ago?”

“Amber, drop it. I’m serious.” She doesn’t. She keeps rambling about how this is so out of character for you and if she continues, she’s going to figure out that Dean isn’t human. “Amber! My God! Stay out of my fucking business! You don’t know anything about this, and you’re just getting in the way!”

Her entire face drops at your words. You hate it but you can’t let her know about the supernatural. Her face hardens into something cold a minute later.

“You want me gone? Fine. I’m gone.”

She storms out of the kitchen and you sigh sadly. This is all becoming too much and it’s all Dean’s fault. If he hadn’t left Amara in charge, none of this would have ever happened. When Dean comes back later that night, you push him angrily into the wall behind him.

“What the fuck?”

“Tell your so-called ‘friend’ to keep her fucking hands to herself.”

“What happened?”

“She almost bit me, that’s what happened!”

Dean growls angrily and storms into the living room where Amara has been since she left you alone. He slams the door behind him, letting you know that he wants to talk to her in private. You can hear him yelling at her but you can’t make out exactly what he’s saying. Eventually, she leaves the room and heads to the front door. She notices you lingering about and gives you a smirk.

“See you later, Little Flower.”

Dean leaves the living room but you’re far from done with this conversation.

“What did you tell her?”

“None of your business.”

“Is she your girlfriend?”

Dean pauses by the stairs and chuckles.

“What if she is? What’s it to you?” You open your mouth to answer but Dean immediately cuts you off. “Don’t forget that I’m not your boyfriend. You’re here for one purpose and one purpose only. I want your blood, nothing more.”

Dean leaves you standing in the hallway with a frown on your face. It’s true. You’re only here to give him your blood but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. You’re falling for him fast with no chance of slowing down.

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