#car girl coming to your rescue
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mrs-jamesbbarnes · 6 months ago
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After some research and going back to look at defining features I can say with some confidence that Russell Shaw drives a black 1965 Chevrolet Malibu. (It does have similar features to a certain beloved 1967 Chevy Impala, so I wanted to clarify.)
Reference photo from the internet:
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Show photos (of the highest quality lol):
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Also you can thank my dad and grandpa for taking me to car shows in my grandpa’s 1964 Chevy Impala SS and asking me repeatedly “what year is this car?” and “can you identify this car?” That knowledge is what made my Google search only take four minutes to pinpoint the car.
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luveline · 9 months ago
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𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝
Spencer calls you drunk and in need of rescue. You confess a few secrets to him while he won’t remember them (or so you think). 3k, fem
cw drunk!spencer, mentioned past drug use, confident/bombshell!reader, flirting, spencer getting some well deserved comfort, a handful of his drunken compliments, insecurity, intense mutual pining
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
You’re blissfully sleeping in the arms of a REM cycle when your phone rings. It pulls you by the chest, a punch of shock and expectancy at once. It’ll be someone calling you into work, Hotch himself if you’re lucky. 
You search blindly for your phone. If you’re even luckier, it’ll be a wrong number. Your fingers curl around the little body of your phone and you bring it to your ear without checking the number, frazzled. “Hello?” you ask hoarsely. 
Total quiet. 
“Hello?” You pull the screen away. The caller reads: SPENCER. You pull it back rather than hang up. “Hey, Spencer. Are you there?” 
“Hello.” He laughs. “Hello, are you there?” 
“I’m here, Spencer, where are you?” 
“That’s an interesting question, actually, and I’m sure there’s a great answer, but…” 
“But what?” You sit up quickly, your throat aching with sleep. Your room is black as coal pitch. “Spencer, what time is it, my love?” 
“You shouldn’t call me stuff like that.” 
“Stop being weird and tell me where you are.” 
He laughs like a hyena. You can see it in your mind, his smile and all his pearly perfect teeth. You love it when he smiles like that and he rarely ever does. “I’m somewhere and I need your help getting home!�� he says with another funny laugh. 
“Are you alright? You sound…” He sounds inebriated. 
Spencer struggled with his drug problem for so long before you found out. You just hadn’t been around enough, and when you were he’d gotten good at hiding it. You can still remember how furious you’d been with everyone, including him, because you could’ve helped, would’ve done anything to support him through it. If he’s hurting now and hasn’t told you, you love him, but you’ll be insanely angry. 
“Spencer?” you ask quietly. 
“I went for drinks with a girl but she didn’t like me and I may have drowned my sorrows too much,” he admits. “Um. Did you know gin is very strong?” 
“Aw, baby. You’re cheating on me?” 
“I’m afraid so,” he says, and hiccups. 
“Where are you?” 
After some hassle wherein you persuade Spencer to give the phone to someone else in the bar for a slightly less drunk interrogation, you dress and gather your bearings for the drive. You zip a hoodie up over your pyjamas, stuff your feet into some old converse, and set out into the dark to find him. 
He calls you again as you’re parking. “Hello,” he says as soon as you answered. “I need you to come and get me.” 
Spencer called you twice to save him. Even if he doesn’t remember, he’s called you to come and get him when he knows he needs help, and that realisation is hard to ignore. “Spencer, I’m two minutes away, I’m parking. You’re still where you were?” 
“Where was I?” 
“At the bar, sweetheart. Are you still there?” It’s scarily dark out and you didn’t grab any sort of defensive measure before you came, which you regret now, climbing out of your car to walk the dimly lit road. The bar glows like a beacon to be followed. 
“Still where?” 
“Did you hit your head?” 
“Not to my knowledge. Though I’m not sure I have much right now. I feel like I’m forgetting everything I’ve ever read, and I’ve read a lot. You know I can read about eighty average length novels in one hour on an e-reader? The buttons make it faster.” 
“You haven’t told me that before.” You shiver against the nighttime winds, footsteps heavy on the grey sidewalk. 
“I’m trying to be more conversational. Emily says it’s not working.” 
“You’re conversational. Isn’t the only condition of being conversational to prompt a conversation? We’re always talking.” 
“…What?” 
You laugh like crazy. “Spencer, you don’t need to change the way you talk.” 
“I annoy people.” 
“You don’t annoy me.” 
You approach the door of the bar, a ramshackle sheet of plywood over what looks to be a glass door. The bar building seems in similar dessaray, with modern features wrecked by scratches and smashed panes. It’s a real dive. Spencer couldn’t have meant to come here. 
You war with both hands to open the door and find yourself faced with a long and empty corridor leading to another door. Worried you’re going to get kidnapped, you bring the phone back to your ear, Spencer’s chatting an immediate greeting. “…telling me I’m doing something wrong without telling me what it is, it’s impossible.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, can you come to the door?” 
“I don’t think I have control of my legs,” he says without inflection. 
“It’s definitely the building with the smashed door?” 
“Yesssss. Are you here?” he asks excitedly. 
“I better not get murdered, Spencer Reid.” 
“Am I in trouble?” 
“How are you even keeping the phone to your ear right now?” 
“I’m on speaker phone. Milly showed me how to do it. Say hi, Milly.” 
“Hi Milly,” a new voice says. 
You rub your eyes with one hand and square your shoulders, prepared to defend yourself if the creepy door leads to a creepier room. 
Spencer is immediately visible from the get go. You open the door on to a rather cosy looking bar, which you’re thinking might be the whole point; wretched exterior, secret attraction. Warm orange light ebbs into the space from sconces and a faux fireplace, while a wrestling match playing from the small TV behind the bar casts brighter light down onto Spencer’s shoulders. He looks out of place, dressed in a white oxford shirt and a suit jacket, his tie loosened and hanging from either side of his neck, compared to the lingering patrons who sit dotted around the room in booths and on barstools. One such patron sits in a plaid shirt and a trucker hat, her hair to her back, thick and dark. 
You hang up the call and put your phone in your pocket. Spencer gasps like he’s been smacked and picks his own phone up from the bar, clicking at buttons with clumsy fingers. “No,” he hums sadly. 
“Spencer,” you say, not wanting to disturb the people spending their sorry-looking night here. “Spencer. Hey, Spence!” 
His phone tips between his fingers. The woman you assume to be Milly catches it and offers it back without looking too far from her beer. 
“Hey,” you say gently, crossing a wide empty space to meet him. The room itself is shaped like a horseshoe, the bar taking up a surprising amount in the centre, and booths and tables placed around it. Spencer’s off of his barstool as you approach, eyes like puppy dog’s, arms extended. “You okay?” you ask. 
You can feel eyes on you both from every angle, but it doesn’t matter, not when Spencer’s falling into your arms (or on to them —he’s surprisingly tall when you aren’t wearing heels). “You alright?” you ask again. 
“You don’t have to be worried, I’m fine.” 
He’s less coordinated in real life than he’d sounded over the phone, his slurring unmissable, his hands like jumping fish as he tries to hug you. It’s weird and straining to take his weight but you do it without complaint. He smells the same, at least, only his cedary cologne is sharpened by the tang of gin on his breath. 
“Thank god you’re here,” he whispers. 
“Why?” you ask, pulling away to check for danger. 
“I missed you.” 
“I missed you too, handsome,” you say, genuine but laying it on thick simultaneously as you ease his head back to cup his cheek. You can’t help yourself. He’s the prettiest man you’ve ever met, and it gets worse every year. 
He frowns at you deeply. “I don’t like first dates.” 
“Then don’t go on them,” you suggest, “you don’t need to until you’re ready.” 
“I’m ready for love,” he says. You pull your lips into a flattened line, unsure of what to say, how to explain that it’s waiting for him, but his chin dips towards his neck and his eyes lock onto your face. “You’re not wearing makeup. God, you’re so pretty.” 
You flinch away from him. “Fuck, Spencer.”
“I’m sorry! It’s not that you don’t look pretty with makeup, but I never see you without it!” 
You’d forgotten you weren’t wearing any. Makeup isn’t a shield, exactly, but you like putting your best foot forward, so to speak. You’ve no clue what you look like tonight, hadn’t managed to look in the mirror, you’d been focused on getting to Spencer before he got lost. You can imagine the puffiness.
Spencer touches your cheek. You let him turn you mostly because he’s surprised you, his eyes roving up and down your face with a fawning curiosity. 
“You’re beautiful. You know that already, but people don’t tell you enough,” he says, his hand falling from your cheek. 
“Spencer,” you say softly, “let’s get you home.” 
You thank Milly for her help and grab Spencer’s bag from the floor to hang on your shoulder. You’d make a joke about how heavy it was if you didn’t think he’d take it from you, and, considering how drunk he is, topple over from the imbalance it provides. His shirt is clammy where you push your hand through his arm to link them, his footsteps wobbly. 
“I didn’t want to go on a date,” he says. 
“Then why did you go?” you ask, helping him over the door jam into the long hallway. 
“I don’t want to be alone forever.” 
“Spencer, you won’t be.” It doesn’t feel like the best time to bring up how much you like him. You’re sure he thinks you’re kidding, doesn’t everybody? Don’t torture him, they say. Don’t toy with him. Every time you flirt with him the team acts like you can’t mean it, and for a while it worked for you; you weren’t in love with Spencer. You weren’t playing with his feelings, but you didn’t love him, and then you joined the team and got to know him, watched him fluster at every comment you made or under any soft looking and realised you could love him. It was easy to fall for him. You liked doing it. But now he’s determined to write your affection off as a joke and going on dates? 
In the morning, when he’s sober, you’ll have to tell him how you feel. Or you could let him find someone more like him… ugh. It’s such a mess. 
You grapple with the size of your feelings for him as he hums and laughs his way down the hall to the glass door. On the street, he squints and straightens his back, fighting to regain his arm from your hold to cover your shoulder instead. “It’s cold,” he says in surprise. “You okay?” 
“I’m fine, I got my jacket. It’s a short walk, come on.”
His arm stops acting as protection and starts to use you for support. “I didn’t mean to drink so much.” 
“Drowning your sorrows is always a terrible idea because it tends to work,” you lament, less scared of the dark with him at your hip, though what protection he might offer is negated by the alcohol. 
“She kind of looked like you.” 
You squeeze your eyes together quickly. “Oh.” 
“I didn’t know she was going to. But she didn’t– she didn’t– it’s hard to talk. She didn’t listen like you do,” he says, lightly slurring, “she just stared at me like everyone used to in high school. Like she could tell there’s something wrong with me.” 
“Spencer, there’s nothing wrong with you.”
“I know,” he says. 
“Do you?” 
“Yes.” He frowns. “No, I don’t know. I don’t feel like there’s something wrong with me,” —his voice turns to a nearly indistinguishable mumble— “but everyone else always does.” 
“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you.” 
“Is that why you make all your jokes?” 
“What jokes, babe?” 
“Like that! Like babe. It’s funny ‘cos you’d never date me.” 
You’d slow if he weren’t already walking at a snail's pace. “That’s not true. Let’s talk about it in the morning, okay?” 
“I won’t remember to ask you in the morning.” 
“Spencer, you remember everything.” 
He drags his feet. “I wish I wasn’t so weird,” he whines. It’s playful at the forefront but desperate otherwise, and it gives you pause. “I wish I was normal, and you could like me normal.” 
You look down at your hands, panicking, a flash of Is this a good idea? like an alarm in your head as you turn on the sidewalk to face him. He’s looking at you like he’s begging you to disagree with him. 
You’re happy to. 
“Spencer, I like you like this,” you insist loudly. His eyes and all his sweet lashes track the movement of your hand as you touch your chest, and your neck. “You’re not normal, I’m not normal. Do you know how many times I’ve been rejected? Just for being me? I’m too bossy, too outspoken, too– too high maintenance. I've had friends with good intentions tell me I need to lower my standards, need to relax, because otherwise I’m going to end up alone for the rest of my life. I feel alone all the time.”
“But you’re perfect,” he says, puzzled. 
“To you. And you’re perfect to me.” Your hand crawls to the base of your throat. “So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do. You think I’d come and get anybody else in the middle of the night dressed like this?” you ask him, gesturing to your ratty pyjamas and your dingy converse. 
“You look so cute,” he says mournfully. 
You roll your eyes. He’s too wasted for this conversation. “Come on, sweetheart. You can think about this too much in the morning. Let’s just get home in one piece.” Physically and emotionally. 
“Can I come home with you?” he asks. 
That had always been the plan. “Ask me nicely and I’ll consider it on the way.” 
— — 
Spencer shuts his eyes, hands itching to clap over his ears as you scratch the head of a spatula across your frying pan. “Is three eggs too many? People usually have two but that’s never enough for me.” 
“I think…” Oh my god the metal screeching is so loud. “You should have as many as you want. You know your body. There’s this study on intuitive eating…” I'm too hungover for this. “Three eggs is better than two.” 
“So you want three?” 
He cannot eat right now. “Yes. Please.” 
Spencer’s half sick with dehydration and half grief. He stayed at your house last night and he was too drunk to be nosy. He slept in your bed. He slept in your bed. He woke up to you at your vanity doing your hair, the nutty smell of hair oil mixed with the heat of the hair tool on high and realised with a start that he’d missed something he thought about all the time. 
You’d tipped your head back to smile at him. “There’s my boy. Sweet dreams?” 
He didn’t dream, but if he had, it would’ve been another agonising wish where you were his girlfriend, or his wife, or just there looking at him with love. He wakes up feeling sick because it isn’t true. And now you’re making him breakfast, humming a tune under your breath, sourdough sizzling under the grill and a shoddily blended avocado sitting in the bowl in front of him. 
You asked him for one thing. He picks up the fork and starts to mash the avocado again. He can’t fight the foreignness of sitting in your kitchen, a gap in his memory. 
He knows he told you about his date, how she looked like you, how she didn’t seem to like him much, but he’s struggling to collect the finer details. Why had you picked him up? He must’ve called you, but you could’ve said no. He remembers thinking you looked beautiful, but he always thinks that. 
The avocado is making him feel sick. 
“Here,” you say, sliding a plate of toast in front of him. “Do you want butter?” 
“I think I'm gonna throw up.” 
“You’re okay.”
“I can’t believe how I acted,” he says, pressing his palms to the hollows of his eyes. 
You turn off the hob. Fat bubbles and pops until it’s cooled. The clock on the wall by the refrigerator ticks incessantly. His slept-in shirt feels too tight despite the undone button. 
“Hey…” You round the island but don’t touch him, your voice gentle. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 
He drags his hands down his face. “I can barely remember what I said.” 
“You were really nice to me… told me I looked pretty without my makeup, n’ that I was perfect. You were really nice.” 
Your tone is off. No flirtatiousness, no endless confidence, you sound wistful, like you’re glad he said it. You take the bowl of avocado he’s made a mess with and put it aside with the toast, resting your arm on the counter, and leaning into his space. “Spencer, last night? You didn’t do anything to be embarrassed of. You were nice, and kind. You tried to open the car door for me and you almost lost your eye, but you were fine. You don’t have anything to be worried about, really.”
“But it’s you.” 
“Gonna touch your hair,” you say, giving him enough time to move away as you reach out and rake back his fringe. His heart leaps into his mouth. “You said something last night like that, you know? Do you remember that? You said if you were normal.” You grace the skin beside his eye with the tip of your thumb, your perfume floating his way as you move. “And I said–”
“I’m not normal,” he says, remembering now. 
You’re not normal, I’m not normal, you’d said.
But you’re perfect, he’d said. 
To you. And you’re perfect to me.
“Right. We’re not normal, Spencer Reid, so forget that girl. She didn’t deserve you anyways,” you say. 
You draw a short, silken line down his cheek with the side of your pinky. To be touched so lightly has his stomach in knots —he’s not shocked by the swiftness with which your affection can make a bad situation good again. 
You turn away. “Now we should eat before everything goes cold.” 
He watches your shoulders move, and he remembers one last detail. So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do. 
The way you’d said it… you couldn’t really mean…
“How’s your appetite? Still feeling sick?” you ask. 
Spencer smiles to himself, the ghost of your touch glowing warm on his cheek. “I’m feeling a lot better, actually.” 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thank you for reading!!! please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed, i appreciate anything and it always inspires me to write more<3!! my requests are pretty much always open for bombshell!reader (even though this one strays a bit from their usual story haha) so if you wanna see more let me know❤️
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twilghtkoo · 5 months ago
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things that boyfriend!haechan does that you find weirdly hot . . .
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BOYFRIEND!HAECHAN who ties your shoes for you. he’s very observant when it comes to you and will pause anywhere to tie your shoes. he’ll squat or get down on one knee and tie two little bunny ears and pat your shoe when he’s done.
BOYFRIEND!HAECHAN who zips up your jacket. you always complain in cold weather that it’s too cold and if he sees you with a zip up jacket and it’s open, he’ll tsk and softly scold you. “well i wonder why it’s cold hm?” then zips up your jacket and fixes your hair.
BOYFRIEND!HAECHAN who holds your hand before crossing the street. he knows your capable and has common sense to look both ways before crossing but as your boyfriend it’s his job to protect you. it’s also just out of instinct. his hand blindly reaches for yours and won’t let get til you both make it across the street.
BOYFRIEND!HAECHAN who hands you your water bottle randomly throughout the day and makes you drink it. your water bottle sometimes is always where you’re not at. it’ll be in the living room while you’re in your room at your desk for hours. and he takes the initiative to fill it up if it’s empty or half full. “here, drink please.” and when you do he always says “thank you pretty”. he wants you to stay hydrated !
BOYFRIEND!HAECHAN who always moves you by your waist or belt loops. he always finds a reason to be close to you or touch you somehow. if you’re in the store together he’ll come up behind you and loop his finger through your belt loop and lightly pull so he can see what you’re looking at or holding in your hands. “ooo yeah i like that flavor, can we get it?” “are you gonna finish it, last time you didn’t hyuck.” or if you’re in front of a drawer and there’s something in there that he needs, both his hands find its place on your waist. “excuse me baby, i need a spoon.”
BOYFRIEND!HAECHAN who opens your drink for you. again, he’s very observant when it comes to you. if he sees you struggling opening a soda, he comes to the rescue. “thank you hyuckie.” or he’ll grab a drink for you and always opens it before giving it to you. you also love to watch when he opens a can with one hand.
BOYFRIEND!HAECHAN who lifts your chin to make you look at him. you get shy and all cute (to him) about eye contact, especially with him. when he stares at you it’s with such intensity or emotion and it also has to do with it just being him. he’ll use a finger to lift your chin and sometimes he even uses his thumb too, his thumb softly caressing your chin. he just makes you so nervous and all jelly ! he’ll notice your eyes widen at his touch and frantically looking around anywhere but his face (yet you fail). he smirks, “cute.”
BOYFRIEND!HAECHAN who always opens the car door for you. not matter the occasion. romance is not dead! he will never forgive you if you open your door. and you have before (mans was upset). he wants to treat you like the princess you are! and you love him for it because it makes you feel special and you truly appreciate the kind gesture. if you make it to your door before him, you’ll patiently wait for him. “good girl.” and lightly smacks your butt as you get in.
this was inspired by a tweet i saw on my tl and immediately thought of haechan. i never wrote a birthday drabble for him so this can be a very late yet needed one <3
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ithebookhoarder · 5 months ago
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Never Let You Go (Aaron Hotchner x F!Reader)
Description: Being married to Aaron (A.K.A. your boss and the love of your life) has both it advantages and disadvantages - and being reprimanded by him for risking your neck in the field is definitely one of the latter... 💔
A/N: Hi everyone. I'm alive! Sorry that this is so short but it sort of just wrote itself and was a nice way to help try and ease me back into writing again as it's been a hot minute here 😅
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Warnings: Angsty Hotch, arguing, mentions of threat, mentions of weapons, implied murder, references to abduction, sexual references, implied cases / unsubs. (Let me know if I missed any)
Masterlist
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You knew when Aaron was angry. You knew the signs very well this far into your relationship, not only as a fellow member of the BAU but also as his wife. He didn’t even need to voice it for you to notice it, rolling off of him in waves… and unfortunately for you, you knew exactly what had caused it. 
You hadn’t meant to throw yourself into the proverbial frying pan, but when the Unsub you had been tracking had grabbed an innocent girl as a hostage you had simply acted without thinking. You had offered yourself instead, knowing your value meant he would not dispose of you as quickly as the others he had taken - and that your team would have to let him leave the parking lot you had chased him to. He knew it too, which was why he had quickly accepted, resulting in you being hauled into a van with a gun pressed against your head. 
Of course, the team had done exactly what you’d expected and located you within an hour. They had mounted a rescue and you had been safely back, unharmed, within mere minutes of the team arriving outside of the cabin. 
All in all, it was a win in your book… but not in your husband / boss’s.  
He had been the first through the door, intent on getting to you whilst Morgan tackled the Unsub into handcuffs. He had quickly cut you free, checked you weren’t seriously hurt, and escorted you back outside, tucked securely under his arm. However, the second you had made it back to the cars, Aaron had pulled away and hidden behind a mask of white hot fury. 
His silent temper had only got worse since you’d all got off the plane, with a thick and suffocating silence filling the car on the drive back. Everyone looked at one another anxiously, knowing better than to risk being the one to say anything and accidentally cause him to erupt in their direction. In fact, a minor miracle had occurred with Spencer not saying a single word until the whole team had spilled out of the elevator, even if it looked like it had caused him physical pain to do so. 
Hell, even Penelope had taken one look at everyone’s faces and done an immediate u-turn back to her lair, muttering she would ‘come back later’.
Unfortunately, you didn’t really have that option when Aaron was your husband and you both shared a car and a house… which was why you had watched as the others grabbed their belongings and finished debriefing, leaving their case files on Hotch’s desk for him to review on Monday. You’d followed along, the last to enter his office and leave your own on the top of the pile. 
However, your fingers had barely let go of the manilla envelope when you heard Hotch clear his throat, turning his attention squarely to the last two agents stood next to you. 
“Good work, everyone. Morgan, Prentiss, you can go. Have a good weekend - Y/N, stay where you are. We need to talk.” 
Shit. 
Your husband’s tone was calm but icy, telling you that this wasn’t up for debate; it was an order and god help anyone who went against him. It was why Emily and Derek made for the door without another word, although Emily shot you a final look over her shoulder, as if checking you were alright. 
You nodded subtly, trying to reassure her as she and Derek made their way out the door, closing it behind them. You knew without asking that the rest of the team would be watching from down in the bullpen, trying and failing to work out what was being said as Hotch ripped you a new one.  
Taking a deep breath, you crossed your arms over your chest and turned to face him. 
You hated seeing his beautiful face so hard and devoid of feeling. It was like a whole different man to the one who slept beside you every night, and greeted you first thing every morning. 
You gulped.
A cold sweat had formed on the back of your neck as he stepped closer slowly, deliberately dragging out the tension. You had to fight the urge to break off the staring contest between you, refusing to surrender to him just yet. It was probably why you opened your mouth first, desperate to beat him to the punch in case you lost your nerve. 
“Before you say anything, I know what you’re going to say, and I know what I did was dangerous and went against your orders,” you rambled, “I’m also well aware of the consequences and I won’t apologise for what I did, not when the option was risking that young girl and the rest of the team-“ 
“I am your superior here, Y/N. What I say goes. That is not up for debate, ever. You do not give me orders,” Aaron seethed, making you fall silent without even raising his voice - which somehow made it worse. It was as if your guilt was swallowing you whole. “What happened today will not happen again, am I understood? You do not ignore my orders whenever you feel like it, nor do you get to lecture me about why you did what you did. And above all? You never tell me to let you go, unarmed and alone, ever again. Is that clear?” 
Your eyes were glued to the floor, wishing silently for it to swallow you up.
“You know I was doing what anyone else on this team would’ve done. He had an innocent girl, Aaron, and he was cornered,” you countered. “He would have killed her the second he left the parking lot, or opened fire then and there. It was the only way to get him out of there, without risking the team and everyone in that area-“
“As the head of this team, I did what I would’ve done if anyone else had been in that position - which is tell you not to risk yourself - but as your husband,” he choked, “I cannot even begin to describe what I felt when he had that gun pointed at your head and that van door closed.” 
You gulped. You felt his pain drawing you in like a gravitational pull, making you desperate to reach out and soothe it from his brow.
“Aaron… You know I didn’t do this to hurt you,” you cooed. To your relief, he nodded, wrapping an arm around your waist and curling you into his chest as if needing to feel you were actually stood there in front of him.  
“It might surprise you to realise that I do know that. Unfortunately, it doesn’t make any of this easier.” You could feel the tension physically radiating off of him as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “I… I thought I’d lost you. I... I can't lose you... I won't lose you or someone I love. Not again.”
“I know. I’m so sorry… I’m right here, my love. I’m right here… Always.”
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Your Heart Fits Like A Key
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Summary: Your ex boyfriend is your knight in shining armor rescuing you after a bad date. There's nobody else like Logan, and you finally see it. This is imagined with 2013 Logan in mind, but any Logan could work Warnings: MDNI!!! its porn without plot. Logan receives road head, afab!female reader, reader receives oral, pet names (baby, baby girl, princess), car sex, logan talks reader through it, not proofread, no use of y/n Word Count: 3.7k+
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You blamed yourself for not checking the weather report before getting ready for your date today. Westchester County was huge, but the upper part of the county wasn't the kindest to pedestrians. Granted, you did have a car, but good ole Casper the white Dodge was sitting in the shop still waiting on that part needed to fix the transmission. Had you lived closer to the southern end of the county you could have at least been within decent walking range of the subways and trains that made the lives of New York City's residents easier.
Your phone buzzed again on your bathroom counter as you plucked the stray eyebrow hair between your brow and temple. As you looked down, you saw his name, and a flutter rose in your chest. You shook your head, deciding to answer it. "You would have thought that after i didn't answer your third call you would have thought I didn't want to talk to you."
A gruff filled the space in a response. "What can I say? If I'm known to be anything, its protective. Something could have been wrong and I would have to come and save you"
"Did you mean protective or possessive?" You asked, though not able to get rid of the smirk that crept up on your face.
"There's a very fine line between the two, darlin'." he cooed into the phone, sounding just as smooth as his line delivery.
It had been nearly a year since you and Logan broke up, yet he couldn't quite just leave you alone. It wasn't just that you two dated for two years, two wonderful years filled with love and domesticity, and the occasional fight between the forces of good and evil. You weren't much one to fight with the team known as the X-Men. Your powers occur in the cases of near accidents or without much effort. Probability field manipulation made it nearly impossible for you to receive a scratch or bruise.
Which was ironic due to your lack of success in your dating life after Logan. What was that saying about being unlucky in love?
"I'd love to stay and chit-chat with you, Logan-"
"Perfect, let's have dinner tonight at Lucky's." You could barley hear the jingling of keys in his hand, as if he was spinning them around in his finger.
You rested one hand on the bathroom counter, dropping your jaw slightly before speaking again. "I can't. I'm already going out tonight."
The keys stopped spinning and an audible change could be heard in his tone. "I'm sure the girls from work won't mind having a scary dog privilege around, or whatever you girls are saying these days."
"It's not with the girls, or with coworkers." You looked at yourself int he mirror, then pressing your brows together. Why did you tell him that?
Logan hummed on the other side of the phone, not a jovial one. "So, some slob is taking you out tonight?" He asked you.
You didn't think Jake to be a slob, except for the inappropriate water cooler bathroom humor, but he was nice and somewhat good looking.
Not as good looking as Logan though.
"Nothing too crazy. Just pizza and a walk." As you looked at your dress in the mirror, you knew you were overdressed, but you couldn't help yourself. It had been ages since you last wore the dress, and it was the perfect combination of being short enough to leave the mind wanting more and hugging your curves in the right way.
"Sounds like he can't afford to take you on a proper date. Who knows what else he can't properly do." Logan replied, knowing the sound of his voice was already driving you wild. He could imagine your face now, how soft your eyes would be as he looked down at you.
You knew the voice he was using was his bedroom voice, and it drove you mad. To feel his arms wrap around your waist and pull you back into his hold, to feel his lips dance across your cheeks and ears, nibbling the lobes had sent shivers down your spine.
Oh, how you missed him dearly.
"Too bad you'll never know." You responded, trying to force the thoughts of Logan out of your mind.
"We'll see, princess."
Later that night, you and Jake had sat in Martin and Rocco's pizzeria, a little place you enjoyed from time to time. Jake had showed up not only half an hour late, but he decided to wear an ill-fitting grey t-shirt and baggy jeans. His hair looked as if he had just rolled out of his bed. All while you were in the slim red dress with your black leather jacket tucked on your lap.
Jake had been laughing rather loud and ruthlessly, spitting food out as he did so. It left a sour taste in your mouth as you protectively shielded your glass of red wine from his debris. The waiter came back asking about your check. "It'll be one, bro." Jake spoke. The waiter nodded, handing the printed check over to Jake. He shook his head, then pointed at you. You looked at him dumbfounded as the waiter left.
"Why are you pointing at me?" You asked him.
He threw his hands up. "Don't look at me. This was your idea." He sounded rather confident, making your blood boil.
"I don't mind paying for my own, I would rather pay for my own. I'm not paying for you." You spoke firmly, clutching your purse. Now the bill wasn't large at all. A medium-sized pizza that you ate only one slice of as he consumed the rest, your one glass of wine, and his three beers came to around forty-five dollars before tip. "I'll pay for the drinks, no problem. I'm not paying for a pizza I barely touched."
Jake narrowed his eyes at you. "This date was your idea. Why do you think I didn't bring my wallet? Just my I.D." He asked you again.
Eyeing the rest of the wine in your glass, you looked back at Jake. The highest road to take would be to pay for the meal, tip the waiter, and never speak to Jake again.
But you never were one to take the high road.
Hanging your jacket over your arm, you stand up and walk over to Jake. "You know what?" You swirled the red liquid in your glass, watching as it stained the sides temporarily. "He's right... You wouldn't know how to treat me right." You turned to look at him, changing your posture. "Suck a bag of dicks." You then turn the glass over in your hand, drenching your pathetic date in the rest of your wine.
He wiped his eyes, making a scene of himself as you walked away. You spoke to the waiter, making sure to pay for the drinks and tip him as you said you would, then leaving the staff to take care of the rest.
You felt a newfound sense of confidence as your hips swayed leaving the restaurant and putting on your jacket.
Then the rain started to soak your hair. The confidence started to fade as you then remembered to had to use an Uber to get to the restaurant because your car was in the shop. You sighed loudly, turning on your heel to begin your long walk home.
A car pulled up toward you as the passenger window rolled down. "Need a ride, baby?"
You looked over, feeling defeated that Logan had found you. Of course, he would, like he did with all of your previous dates. "I'm good." You lied.
You knew better, he could tell by the way your cheeks had been red, even under the street lights, that something was wrong. Logan got out of the car, shutting the door before walking around, opening the passenger door, shielding it from the rain. "You sure about that?"
Option A: Tell Logan, the honest love of your life, to leave you alone and continue to walk home.
Option B: stick around until Jake comes out of the restaurant smelling like the house wine special for the night and risk watching Logan beat the shit out of him.
Option C: Accept the universe's way of telling you everything will be alright.
You pull your jacket around you a little tighter as you turn and approach Logan and his car. You look up at him, placing a hand on his cheek and gently patting it. Before you could sink into the seat, he gently grabbed ahold of your wrist, bringing it to his lips and pressing those perfectly soft lips to the inside of your wrist as he kissed it.
After making sure you were in the car, Logan closed the door, walked around the front of the car, and entered the driver's side. As he turned the engine back over, police sirens could be heard in the distance. "What's going on?" He asked watching as they approached the pizzeria and a couple of cops entered the restaurant.
"Well, if we don't get out of here, I may end up in handcuffs.” You sighed, your chest rising and falling harshly. “Not in the good way.”
Logan chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s my girl.” He turned the wheel, quickly speeding out of the parking spot.
He rested one hand on the steering wheel, the other was on the gearshift as he comfortably sped down the roads of the town you called home. You ignored the burning pit in your stomach, reaching into your bag and pulling out your perfume. It was a small bottle with a roller ball, applying it on your wrists and neck. Logan looked over at you, smirking. “You’re too dolled up for that slouch, Doll.” He spoke, then peering back at the road.
You hummed a little, then resting your elbow on the side door, pressing your temple on your hand as you looked over at him. “What can I say? I wanted to dress up for somebody.” But Jake was the wrong somebody.
“When you feel the need to dress up, just call me.” He spoke lowly, turning down the scenic route on the backside of the town.
You knew what he was doing, what he had planned from the time you spoke to him on the phone. After the night you had, you weren’t going to deny your knight on his white horse the pleasure of making you happy.
You knew it made him happy too, something you craved. Nobody else you have ever met was Logan. Nobody was going to be Logan. It was impossible.
“You know, I’m more than just a pretty little girl to look at, Logan.” Your left hand reached over slowly to rest on his jeans. His perfectly fitting jeans, matching with the dark button up he wore. Logan knew exactly what he was doing. His face remained pointed at the road, his eyes looking down at your hand as you finally reach to ghost over his clothed erection. He bit his lip, quickly closing his eyes as you palm him over his jeans. “I can be evil.” You coo, leaning over as you press your forehead to his shoulder.
Logan sucked in a deep breath, now placing both hands on the steering wheel. “You already torment me, princess.” He responded, now looking over at you.
You shift in your seat, now pressing both knees on the seat bottom, your hands busy unbuckling his belt. Your fingers rested on the button of his jeans as you look up at him, a devious glare in both of your eyes. “Say the word, and I’ll stop.”
His eyes searched yours, triangulating your eyes and lips. “Come back to me.” He whispered to your lips before you could capture them in yours. Falling back into your vicious cycle, your lips mold well with his you give into your desires.
Logan pulls away only to look at the road. This gives you enough time to unbutton and unzip his jeans. You slip your hand down his boxers, taking a hold of his girth as you bring it to the surface. You lick your lips, then pooling some more saliva in your mouth, spitting on him. As you lower down to him, your lips meet his red tip, already leaking pre-cum, and kiss him a couple times. This earned you an approving groan from Logan, who drew his lips into a thin line as he focused on the road.
You lick down his veins, then kiss up his shaft, feeling the heat in your belly grow into something different. You took Logan in your mouth, tongue wrapping around his length as you went down on him. You felt his hand then lace a crown in your hair as you bobbed up and down on him, sucking him the way he deserved.
“Good girl,” He practically purred, making your thighs shake in response. One of your hands braced yourself on his leg, knowing if you reached for yourself Logan would tear into you. The other hand reached for his balls, thumbing the skin as you massaged him. Logan began to speed, the sensation of you taking all of him without a gag reflex was pure ecstasy to him. He groaned out, huffing harshly as he praised you. Warm, velvety ropes of cum filled your mouth and throat as Logan breathed heavily. It was sweet heavenly music to your ears as you worked him through his orgasm, feeling your core deprived of attention.
“Fuck this.” Logan spoke harshly, taking another turn down a dirt road. He pulled the car into a space off the side of the dirt road, turning it off as you left go of him as you lick up the rest of his cum. “My girl needs me.” He spoke again, pulling the level on his seat back. The seat scooted all the way back before he grabbed both of your hips, practically pulling you into his lap. “You need me, don’t you baby?” He asked you, bushing your hair out of your face as you straddled him.
You had long discarded the leather jacket to the passenger seat floor, resting both of your hands on his shoulders. You nodded quickly, licking your lips feeling yourself quake over his body. “Take me to bed, or lose me forever.” You whisper between the two of you.
This sent chills down his spine as one hand raced up your spine, grabbing you by the neck and pulling your faces to each other, grabbing you in a passionate kiss. A hungry one. A desperate one. He never wanted to let you go, never again. He would gladly taking a beating every day if it meant he could hold you life this again.
His free hand reached between your bodies, unsheathing one claw to cut through your underwear. The delicate lace fell between the both of you in shreds. “I just bought those.” You complained as you broke the kiss for air.
Logan then lowered the seat back giving you both room. “I’ll buy you new ones.” He promised.
Both his and your hands reached for the back of the dress, pulling the zipper down. Logan was faster pulling it off of your body, his eyes scanning over your body once again. Like a child in a candy store, he stared in awe as you were now only clothed in your bra. Your hands made quick work of his shirt, ripping the buttons apart as the scattered around the car’s interior. “You’re not the only one with money.” you retort, now pressing your lips to his, then lining kiss to his jaw and down his neck.
One of his arms braces you, holding him closer to you as the other hand now begins to give you attention. His index and middle fingers part your folds, bringing a moan from you as you bury yourself between his neck and shoulder. “I got you, princess. I’ll work you through it.” He whispered in your ear, feeling your hips buck up into hand. His palm rubs against your core, soaked in your pre-cum as your body shivers in his. “Gotta get your ready for me, baby.” You gasp into his shoulder, lips now splayed on his shoulder as you wrap your arms around him. His finger and thumb pinch the delicate flesh of your clit, making you buck again. He used your bucking to his advantage, pressing two fingers into you. “Just like that. You take me so well.” He rubbed your gummy walls, feeling you already clench around him.
“Lo-Logan… please.”
You feel the rumble in his chest, how your chest begins to quickly rise and fall into his as you plead with him. He wonders if you will ever find out how cute you are begging him. “Please what, princess?”
You pull away from his shoulder, grinding your hips against his fingers, your bottom lip quivering. “Please fuck me.”
His lips crashed onto yours again as he removed his hand, stroking it over his length before guiding himself toward your entrance. You both sigh at the same time when he presses his tip in. His hands find your hips, grabbing handfuls of your skin as you skin onto him. You busy yourself with kissed to his hairy pecs as you roll your hips over him, bouncing on his length. Logan’s head dipped back, closing his eyes briefly. He looked up at your face, your jaw dropped again as your hands rest on his stomach to brace yourself. “Good-Good girl.” He then reached up to your bra, unsheathing his claws again and he sliced it off of your body. Once off, his hands reached your your breasts, palming your nipples, pulling your breasts together and pinching your nipples.
You bounced more on him, feeling the car rock with your movements as you clench around him, not even a whole three minutes in and your are already weak for this man.
Logan must have sensed this as he then pulled you off of him, carefully and skillfully he maneuvered you to the back seat, setting you on your back. He shimmed around, moving his head between your thighs, lining kisses from the middle of your thigh down to your core, suckling your clit as he slung on of your legs over his shoulder. You brought your hands up to your face, covering your eyes before dragging down your cheeks, then lips, then neck. “LOG-ah!” You called out as he pressed further into your core, his tongue lathing up your undoing.
As your breathed heavily recovering front our high, he continued to pamper you with kisses. Kissed from your core up to your belly button, to your sternum as his nose danced between your breasts, his arms now reaching up to cage you in after throwing both your legs over his shoulders. “It’s time to let me take care of you.”
He pressed himself inside of you again in one harsh thrust, picking the pace up as your joined bodies moved in unison. Your hands reached to cup his face as you breathed heavily in each others face, chasing another high together.
Oh how you missed Logan, and how he knows how to treat a lady.
It felt so right, all of it. Your mascara began to run down your face. Logan wiped your face with his thumb. “It’s okay, pretty girl. You’re fine. I’ve got you. You’re safe.” He soothed you.
“I-I’m gon-” You scrunch your face before looking back up at him.
“Cum for me, princess.” He commanded. AS your coil came undone again, Logan’s lips met yours, causing you to moan into his face as he rode your high out on him. Your cries of pleasure fill the car as Logan’s release fell over him. Your pussy milking him for all he was worth. Logan hovered above you as you both came down from your highs, clinging onto each other tightly.
Once things began to settle for the both of you, He removed himself from you, then shifting you around to where you were now resting on top of him. His arms wrapped around your lower back and the back of your head while yours laid on the sides of his chest. Your breathing and heart beats began to slow down to as the buzz filled your head.
After a few minutes of silence, and one long over due fuck session, Logan broken the silence. “What did you mean earlier? When you said take me to bed or lose me forever?”
You looked up at him, adjusting yourself to be able to look at his eyes as you spoke. “You were right. He was a slob, and he didn’t know how to treat me.” You look as if you were caught in thought as your finger traced a figure eight on his chest, causing Logan to look at you in his usual inquiring way. “Nobody will ever be you.”
This caused him to laugh, fog inside the windows growing at the statement. “Here, I was thinking you had watched Top Gun and wanted to be cheesy.”
You narrowed one eyebrow at him, a flirty smirk growing on your face. “You’re no Goose, but you sure are a big stud, Wolverine.”
Logan nodded, the hand resting on your lower back slowly ran up and down your spine. “So, about Lucky’s?”
You hummed a little thinking about the events of the night. “Tomorrow. I’m quitting my job, no thanks to Jake. So any time after noon?”
Logan nodded, accepting the terms of the date. He then cocked his head at you, tsking you and wagging a finger. “You remembered his name, baby girl. That means I need to fuck it out of you again.”
“Maybe in a bed next time? Or a shower?” You ask him, knowing your addiction to this man was a hard one to break.
He stared at you, his face turning soft as he nodded. “Come here.” He whispered. You were more than happy to oblige, pressing your lips to his again.
Oh yes, Logan Howlett was a man of many talents. But one thing you were more than thankful for was his way of loving you harder outside of your relationship.
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princessbrunette · 4 months ago
Note
while we're on the topic, you know that stereotype where firefighters rescue kittens from trees? what if Kitty gets stuck in a tree one day and jj's a firefighter and has to come get her out and that's how they meet 👀
≽^• ⩊ •^≼ ₊˚⊹♡
you don’t remember climbing as high as you did. all you knew, was that you’d lost track of all the branches, looked down, and froze. you were way higher than you intended on climbing.
it had been atleast two hours now. you were getting cold, thirsty, the branch you sat on was digging into places it shouldn’t — which is why when the small company firefighter car rolls up, you feel like you’ve seen an angel. when a cute blonde boy that you can barely make out from up there steps out, the feeling intensifies.
it’s not long before you’re staring at eachother face to face, the stranger leaning casually on his ladder telling you that the height didn’t bother him in the slightest.
“so uh, yeah — usually i’m rescuing cats from trees but… hey.” he speaks casually, probably to keep you calm and collected. you furrow your brows, letting out an uncomfortable whimper as you look down at the drop, realising he’s probably gonna have to move you. “hey hey hey, keep it cool we’re allll good. jus’ look at me, atta girl.” he waves a hand and redraws your attention, mainly due to the fact that despite being stuck at the top of a tree — you’d still preen at praise.
you suck in some shaky breaths, digging your nails into the bark and he blinks at you, observing your body language. “alright, look… me n’you are just gonna stay here as long as you need ‘til you feel like you’re ready to come down with me. uh’kay? no rush.” something about his words calm you and you nod, keeping your eyes trained on him. “nice, nice— good. so… y’wanna start by telling me your name?”
≽^• ⩊ •^≼ ₊˚⊹♡
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elliesmainhoe · 6 months ago
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need ellie to take care of me drunk desperately
i love your writing 😭
Rescue Remedy
e.williams x fem!reader
summary: you call Ellie to come and rescue you from a bar after having a few too many drinks
warnings: alcohol, cigarettes, mentions of hangovers, slurred speech, drunk crying, fluff.
just realized this is basically a self insert vent post of a very similar situation I've been in LMAO
WC 1K
DAY 4 OF SAPPHIC SUMMER
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you were relieved when the familiar beaten up Ford focus pulled up beside you. you'd been sitting on the curb for almost 15 minutes- tear stained cheeks, smudged glitter and mascara as your body shook and jittered from both the cold Seattle night and the mixture of cigarette smoke and alcohol causing the most humbling case of hiccups you think you've ever had.
"Ells!" you whined, a new flood of tears streaming from your eyes at the sight of your night in shining armour- your girlfriend.
"c'mon sweet girl" she huffed, hair thrown up messily in the usual half up, half down style, clad in red and black checkered pyjama pants, black hoodie that was splattered with paint topped off with the obnoxious lime green crocks you'd gotten her for her one Christmas, of course decked out in charms shed collected over the past few months.
before you could even process it you were sitting in the passenger seat, leather seats sticking to your sweat glazed skin, and sobs turning to hiccups.
this had been the worst night out you'd had since your 21st. and as soon as the car revved and moved down the road, Ellie's hand pressed firmly on your bare thigh, the fabric of your dress not long enough to cover the majority of your thigh.
"what happened sweet girl?" oh and by that one question, it's like Ellie had opened a flood gate.
firstly, you got to the club of choice after having to walk almost a mile from where your designated driver had parked, accompanied by a couple of friends. after queuing on the curb for almost thirty minutes, you reached the front of the queue and then promptly realized you had left you purse. with your id. in the car. a mile away.
so after you'd trekked all the way to the car, retrieving your purse and id, getting back to the club, queuing for another 30 minutes, on your own this time- as your friends who had not forgotten their id decided to go in and leave you to sort your shit out.
let's just say you were already a little pissed off.
secondly, you got in the club and it stunk. not just of sweat and booze, but piss. fucking piss. and to top that all off you couldn't find your friends so- you did what any other sane person would do and ordered shots.
shots that were actually doubles, but of course you hadnt realized that until way too late.
which leads into the final stage of the night, your head being deep in a grimy toilet bowl, knees bruised from having to kneel on tiles that were not grouted properly and pieces of them shot out and cut at your skin.
and by that point you had gotten out your phone, which was now on 7% charge because you had offers to use your GPS and it drained all your battery, and was a blubbering mess on call with your girlfriend.
you would later have to retell the story again, as apparently according to Ellie- she couldn't understand a word you were saying, just nodding along in a desperate attempt to keep you awake long enough to get a glass of water and a slice of toast down you.
it must have been during your tangent when you'd gotten home, as when you finally finished your incoherent mumbling you were sitting on the beat up leather couch of yours and Ellie's apartment, a couch you'd hated as soon as you moved in, but Ellie had a weird attachment to so it stayed in it's place, the first thing you saw when you entered the home.
Ellie was kneeling in front of you, sitting between your thighs and facing you, holding up a large glass of water,
"sip baby" she spoke softly, to which you groaned.
"do- do- I haveeeeeee to?" you whined, batting your eyelashes in an attempt to distract your girlfriend "jus' wan' sleep"
"you can sleep after you drink that." after another groan you took a sip of the glass of water- admittedly, it was refreshing, however you still gagged to prove a point.
"good girl" she purred, standing up and kissing your forehead, moving over to the cabinet to grab a packet of pills.
"fuck off"
she laughs, moving back with a small white pill in the palm of her hand, to which you begrudgingly take after Ellie promises to take you to get ice cream the day after.
you felt your eyelids droop once more, you couldn't tell if it was sleep, or just your false eyelashes becoming suddenly very heavy, you whine "'m tired ells..."
"alright I hear you, c'mon baby" she sighs, leaving a half eaten piece of toast on the coffee table, one arm supporting your back and the other under your knees as she made her way to your bedroom, plopping you on the mattress and you sigh, already drifting to sleep before you screech at the feeling of something wet in your face.
"hey- hey" Ellie laughs, "I'm just taking off your makeup baby, just taking off your makeup", she smiles, dragging a cotton pad across your skin, taking off the creams and powders you had applied previously, smudged mascara coming off with it.
Ellie was thankful you'd taken off your clothes as soon as you stepped foot into the apartment saying something which she thinks was "dresses like these are modern day torture devices"- but with the way you slur your words when drunk she could never be sure, leaving you just in your underwear, making her job a whole lot easier.
trying to maneuver you, who had now dropped on the mattress like a deadweight, would've been a too strenuous task for 3am.
after discarding the used wipes and pulling your hair back into a very messy ponytail, Ellie scooted in beside you, the mattress sinking as you unconsciously snuggle in closer, head nuzzling into the girls neck, her hand going around to caress your back, soothing you into an easy sleep.
the hangover tomorrow was going to be horrible.
••••••••••••••
The third time I've tried to write this, I almost gave up 🥰
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goldsbitch · 7 months ago
Text
You texted...
Y/N and Lando are going through a rough patch in their relationship. Not really on speaking terms. This bad streak ends when there is a massive spider in her bathroom.
angst, one shot
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The moment she spotted that creature sent from hell, everything else went out of the window. The dinner in the oven, the fact she was planning on doing a late night session in the gym, the fact her hair was still wet from the shower. The fact she and her boyfriend Lando were on "not speaking" terms.
Y/N was absolutely terrified of spiders her whole life and was never able to over come the fear by getting rid of them on her own. Lando was the one who always ever so kindly rescued her, he overtook this role her neighbor, who overtook it from her mom, who Y/N had trained to react immediately when she heard a very specific scream.
Now she was standing in her apartment, alone with nowhere to go, since her job was to stay frozen at one spot and stare at the creature, in case it moved, and not really sure who to call for help. Her best friend was the first option. Normally, it would have been her boyfriend, but something was stopping her from doing that.
"Come on, come on, come on," she whispered as she dialed her best friend living close by. "Pick up, dammit."
Finally, the tone she was praying for. "Hey, girl, what's up?"
No time for chit chat. "You have to come over now, immediately."
Her friend noticed the immediate distress and tuned herself in. "What's wrong?" she replied, sounding as she was ready to dial the police.
"There's a spider situation going on in my apartment."
"Uhm, I see," she said, more relaxed now, but still taking it seriously.
"It's huge, with like hairy legs and shit. You have to come over, now. We have a deal, remember?"
Her friend was equally terrified of mosquitoes, so they agreed that Y/N would deal with those while spider duty fell on the other lady. This has happened many many times before. Usually ended up with a nice girls evening. Ever since Lando appeared in Y/N life however, the emergency calls stopped.
"I thought Lando was around this week?" her friend asked curiously. "Not that I'm trying to get out of this, but I'm sort of like an hour away from you, so..."
Y/N let out a frustrated sigh. "Fucking hell...Yeah, we're not exactly speaking at the moment," she admitted.
"Wow, that's a first!?" her friend said, clearly surprised. "Why?"
"Look, I'd love to chat, but are you coming or not? There's no one else and I'm not calling Lando!"
"Yes, yes, I'm getting in the car, just let me say good bye to my friends here, we're having a picnic," she replied and muted voices of disapproval came from the background.
Y/N felt guilty about doing this, but she'd dropped everything she was oing for her friend many times, answered phone calls in the middle of the night even though she was an early bird. They just had this kind of friendship.
"Drive fast, please," she said, still stubborn and not about to call Lando.
//
Y/N sat there staring at the spider for good ten minuted before her friend called again.
"Ok, I'm in the car, you can talk about Lando now, keep me busy. I'm going to pass over the fact you and your boyfriend are fighting and I have no idea," she said unapologetically.
"Figured you'd be mad about that. Yeah, he's been acting like a bit of a dick..."
"But you're not broken up, right?" her friend asked, slightly worried about her favorite couple.
"No, I don't think so. I hope so," she realized, the spider in the corner becoming lesser of her problems.
"And what seems to be the problem? Did he cheat?"
"No, not that I'm aware," she replied without thinking.
"Did you cheat?" her friend asked, ready to support her in anything.
"Jesus, no. It's um...I dunno, we've just grown a bit distant. Lately it feels like I'm like at number 50 of his priorities list. It's always only racing, Quadrant, promo event this and that."
"That's shitty, yeah. Would you like to be included? I know you hate things like promo events and such."
"I do! But honestly, I miss him so much and frankly I'd like to be more included in his life somehow. Especially now that I have more time in my life."
"Does he know that?"
"No?"
Her friend let out a deep sigh. "Hm. You have to untangle that. It would be stupid to break up over that."
"Yeah, I'd hate that," she said, panic setting in.
"Text him to come. To save you from the spider. It's a nice excuse and good test. To see if he cares."
"I'm scared. What if he does not respond?"
Few moments of dramatic silence. "Well, at least you'd know."
"Yeah. Ok. Sending it." Y/N quickly typed something up, trying not to overthink it.
"What did you text?"
"Can you come over asap? I need help with a spider. It's urgent."
"Nice. Now you'll see what he does."
They stayed on the phone together for good half an hour. Catching up and distracting Y/N from the fact there was no text from Lando coming her way.
//
A doorbell rang.
"You're here already?" Y/N asked her friend, surprised by her ability to drive this fast.
"Nope, still very much far away. Did I hear a bell? Do you think it's him?"
"I dunno. I'll mute you and if it's him I'll hang up, ok?"
"Gotcha."
She opened the door with a heavy heart. What if it was not him?
But it was. Flustered Lando stood there without saying hello. The two shared a pain-filled look, neither of them enjoying this no contact streak they had.
"You came..." she said finally, ending the phone call.
"You texted..." he said dryly and in full macho mode entered her apartment without being let it. "Can you point me where?"
"That corner," she simply pointed, flushed with emotions. Happy that he came to rescue her, sad about his loveless tone and scared of what was to come after. She watched him from afar, as he skillfully took the spider and threw it out of the balcony.
"Don't say anything about him knowing his way back, please," he said, hinting on the countless debates they'd had before about Lando not wanting to kill every spider they'd encounter.
The air suddenly went very heavy. Lando casually headed to the kitchen to get himself a glass of water while trying so hard to make eye contact with her. The last time they spoke was few days prior - and it was not a nice conversation. Lots of built up emotions got out, frustrated speeches made and confusing sentences jumping one after another. Ending with Lando slamming the door on his way out.
She had no clue where to start. "So, how have you been?" she asked, not sure she was ready for his answer. He finally looked at her, and then with an annoyed eye-roll went back into staring out of the window.
Y/N threw her hands up in the air as the familiar feeling from few days ago kicked back in. "Ok fine, sorry I asked. Thank you so much for your help, truly appreciated, but if you hate being around me, just say so that we can-"
"We can what?" he cut her off, not having any of that.
"I don't know, you tell me!...I'm getting lost at trying to read you," she admitted, not even trying to hide anything from him at this point.
"I'm sorry," he said slowly. "I don't think I listened to you," he sighed before continuing, "Or more like did not hear what you were saying."
The validation felt rewarding. But she feared what would come next.
"What I heard at that moment was you not respecting my lack of time and the fact that things I'm involved in are important to me."
She took a breath and planned on interrupting him, which he noticed and tried to stop.
"Let me finish, please. But thinking about it, I figured that's not the case, and you were simply pointing out that I've been putting off spending time with you. Which you're absolutely correct. I figured since we've been going to strong lately, this would be fine. But truth is I hate this distance it created. I feel lost, uneasy and unable to focus," he blabbered something, which felt like he might have even rehearsed on the way to her. "What I'm trying to say is - do you still care enough for us to fix it?"
It felt vulnerable, raw and maybe even uncomfortable to have these kinds of talks. But this is ultimately what cements a relationship.
Feeling like he managed to destroy some of the wall they'd put up, she took few steps towards him.
"Lando, of course I do. It's not a rare event that I imagine our future life together, as a couple and one day potentially as a family. Never had this feeling before in my life. Please, let's figure out a way how to prevent the distance from happening. Things have changed now, the relationship has too. We've been together for almost two years. And my love for you has only grown."
He finally smiled, relieved that they seemed to be on the same page.
"I came right from the tennis court, left everyone behind. Would you like to go there with me? Hang out with the Quadrant squad for a bit and then have a nice dinner somewhere? I just want to spend this evening with you."
"And the night hopefully," she teased, trying to ease the mood.
"Always the night, it was absolutely horrible, knowing you're so close to me, yet having to sleep without you."
She closed the distance between them, embracing him into a hug. They bodies were more than familiar with each and it felt right to be that close. Definitely better than each of them standing in a different corner of the room.
"We still have to talk about this. I don't want our love to slip through by our fingers," she said, letting her anxiety out.
"We will. Tonight, we'll come up with a plan. Can you join me on few races later this month?" he asked, hoping for a positive answer.
"Of course, my love. I have to buy new clothes though, the cameras are savage."
He chuckled, relaxed now that he did not have to worry about having lost her. "Yes, they are."
She later call her friend to thank her for dropping everything and driving to save her, even though it was not needed in the end. Her friend was more than happy that she and Lando seemingly found the way back to each other.
She also admitted that she turned back the moment Y/N sent her text to Lando, knowing that this guy would come running anytime his girlfriend asked for help.
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storiesofsvu · 4 months ago
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Bump in the Night
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Aaron Hotchner x reader warnings: language, some anxiety/fear, aaron to the rescue type vibes, nothing serious, just a creeper. This was supposed to be a drabble... I do not know what happened...
While you weren’t actually part of the BAU, you were best friends with Penelope which meant that any girls night’s, baking tutorials, birthday, Christmas or Halloween celebrations, you were invited. Over all of those events you’d become a friend of everyone on the team, a happy face for them to see after a long week or more away. You regularly helped Penelope get things set up for them or were the one out running errands or picking up treats while she was finishing work. It was as if the two of you were their own personal slice of sunshine, which was exactly why Hotch always felt a blooming of warmth in his chest whenever Garcia mentioned you’d be in attendance or he’d round the corner and lay eyes on you.
The two of you clicked, he surprised himself, already coming out of his shell on the first night you’d met, something he usually reserved until he’d had time to fully profile someone and make sure their intentions were good. Instead you had him laughing by the end of the night, a sight that you definitely wanted to see again. There was a mild flirtation, but nothing that anyone else ever picked up on, and not one that ever moved past a little tease here or there, an offhand comment about how you were prettier than the girl eyeing Aaron up, or that the muscley firefighter really wasn’t your type. You were friends, which was all you really needed.
Friends morphed into good friends over the course of the year that you knew each other. First it was a run in at a coffee shop, Aaron halfway out the door in a rush to work, just enough time to flash you a warm smile and say hello before parting ways.
The second time he was pulling into a gas station, spotting you hanging up the nozzle a few pumps down before you got back into your car to peel away down the street.
The third was the produce section of the grocery store, you spotted him first, eyes darting through the items in his basket, nearly making him jump when you suddenly spoke from behind him once you’d figured out what he was making for dinner.
Number four was a bright sunny Saturday afternoon, Jack had insisted on going to the park with a few friends and Aaron ended up chaperoning. One of the kids spotted a friendly dog and when they raced of to pet it, he realized you were on the other end of the leash and made a comment that he didn’t know you had a dog. With a glittering laugh you explained you were dog sitting and the moment Jack realized you were a friend of his dad’s; Aaron was the one stuck dog sitting while you were being dragged around the playground.
The fifth was a late Friday evening, Jack was away for the weekend and Aaron had stopped to pick up a bottle of wine to have with his take out. While he stood staring at the bottles he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye but didn’t look up until he heard the familiar laugh as you snuck in front of him to grab your favourite. He asked if you had a hot date and you practically snorted, saying the only company you had that night was a pair of sweats and your couch. You then raised a playful eyebrow and teasingly asked if he’d been stalking you and his cheeks instantly tinged pink, nearly fumbling his words as he tried to explain he lived around the corner. Your hand on his elbow suddenly brought him back down to his senses and he was able to laugh it off when he clued in that you were completely joking, explaining you’d been wondering the same thing.
Upon the discovery that you were in adjacent neighbourhoods and that you worked from home, you exchanged phone numbers. On the off chance the jet was delayed, you could pick up Jack from school, stopping at the park for an hour until Aaron was home, maybe even get started on dinner and homework. If there was a last minute case and Jessica was still at work, you’d head over to be the in between buffer so Hotch could leave right away. He was insistent on you calling whenever you needed anything, he picked up your mail when you went on vacation, helped out with the leaky pipe in your laundry room and came in very handy when it came to changing the light bulbs you couldn’t even dream of reaching.
Currently, Jack was away at summer camp and Aaron was swindled into finally using up some of his vacation time. The first few days he’d deep cleaned the house from top to bottom, next it was a similar treatment for the yard. By the time he’d reached the second Tuesday he’d ran out of things to do until he ran into you at the corner store and you suggested seeing a movie considering neither of you had anything to do and the movie theatre air conditioning couldn’t be beat. With the heat on the rise, and a plethora of summer blockbusters you continued the new tradition each night that week. Most days you drove together, Aaron either picking you up or walking you home from his place depending on the weather.
Friday you’d been out with friends for a late lunch, had a handful of errands to run and were closer to the theatre than home, meeting him there. When he asked if you needed a ride you let out a small laugh, explaining that you’d driven, but thanked him anyway, the smile evident on your cheeks as he wordlessly insisted on walking you to your car at the very least.
Car windows down you had music going on the drive home, pulling into the driveway and enjoying the song for one more chorus before finally turning off the ignition and collecting your things. You made your way through the front door, relocking it behind you and tossing your keys down onto the small table in the entry way as you toed off your shoes.
You were making a beeline through the house to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water when a couple of thumps from the other side of the wall caused you to jump, your heart leaping in your chest. You left the kitchen light off, tip toeing through the room and you realized you’d left the kitchen window ajar earlier to get some fresh air in. Letting out sigh of relief you pushed it down so it was only open an inch or two, though your eyes caught movement across the yard, a clattering that sounded like your garbage bins and your brow furrowed, wondering why the automatic security light hadn’t caught what you figured was a raccoon.
Padding across to the doorway you flicked the light switch a couple of times, normally if the light was activated already that did the trick, but this time the yard remained pitch black.
“For fuck’s sake.” You muttered, digging around in a cupboard until you found a spare bulb before unlocking the back door and stepping onto the porch. Reaching up you went to unscrew the bulb and let out another annoyed sigh that it was actually just loose, so you screwed it back in, shielding your eyes as it burst to life.
The screen door swung shut behind you as you stepped back inside and you noticed a small duffle bag on the edge of the porch that at first glance didn’t look that familiar, but you didn’t really think much of it. A few people on your street often leant things to one another and you had been waiting on a couple of gardening tools, but you weren’t about to look into it now. The hairs on the back of your neck were still standing up and you were ready to be back inside behind locked doors, especially as your motion stilled and the light flicked off once again.
As you crossed through the kitchen to finally pull open the fridge you heard yet another clatter from outside and your stomach dropped when the security light flicked back on. Fridge quickly shut you backed into it, up on your toes in an attempt to peer out the window, praying it was just an animal. There was a light scuffling right at the back porch and you were so thankful for having immediately locked the door.
You were even more thankful for the lock when your eyes finally caught the movement, a hand creeping up through the railing near the duffle bag and you couldn’t help the gasp that left your lips. At the sound, the hand froze and you immediately leapt forward, slamming the kitchen window all the way shut and you saw a shadowy figure dart through the outskirts of the yard, just out of reach of the light. Your heart thundering in your chest you were honestly surprised you were able to dig your phone out of your pocket and find Aaron’s contact.
“Hotchner.”
You felt a brief wave of relief wash over you at how quickly he answered, “I’m really wishing I’d taken you up on that ride now…”
“Why?” His voice immediately tensed, “what’s wrong?”
“There’s someone in my yard…” you let out a breath you’d been holding when the light outside flicked off, your shoulders starting to relax, “pretty sure he was there before I got home.” A crash echoed through the air and you jumped, your voice wavering when you spoke again “fuck he’s still here.”
“I’m already on my way, keep the doors locked, the lights off and stay away from the windows.”
“Yeah.” You muttered, heart racing as you heard his car start through the phone and he assured you he’d be right over before the phone line clicked.
Trying to keep your breath calm you kept your eyes trained on the window, backing into the pantry door so you were concealed by the fridge but could still see if the light went off again. It was only a matter of moments later you heard a car squealing to a halt out front, the door slamming shut followed by Aaron’s voice. You caught his shadow moving around the side of the house and the light in the backyard flicked back on when he announced himself, the gate booted open and you were just able to see someone launching themselves over the back fence into the alley before running off. All they needed was the threat of a federal agent and the assumption of a gun to peel off into the night.
You felt your breathing calming down as the sound of running got further and further away, finally dropping down into a chair at the kitchen table. Aaron, being Aaron, wasn’t satisfied with just running the perp off, doing a full sweep of both your front and back yards, checking the alleyway, under the porch and any nooks and crannies anything or person could possibly have been stashed. You heard him on the back step and glanced up to see him sifting though the duffle bag, a frown on his face, his lips pressed into a firm line. With a huff he scooped up the bag and sauntered across the yard, dropping it on the other side of the fence with the garbage before making his way back to the door. A brisk knock echoed through the kitchen followed by his voice,
“He’s gone, it’s just me, Aaron.”
You couldn’t help but let out a breath of a laugh, as if you hadn’t had your eyes on him the entire time, making sure everything was okay. Crossing the room you finally turned the kitchen light on, unlocking the door and letting it swing open.
“Hey.” You smiled softly, “thanks.”
“Of course.” His lips formed a tight smile as he stepped into the house, locking the door behind himself, “just to be safe I want to do a sweep inside, stay put.” His hand squeezed at your elbow as he moved past you and you were left awkwardly standing in your own kitchen until he returned.
“No psycho killers?” You asked, a shaky laugh in your throat.
“All empty.” He nodded, his features softening as he noticed the rapid rising and falling of your chest, “are you alright?”
“Yeah, sure.” You tried to wave him off but he took a step closer to you.
“Come here.” He crooked his hand and you surprised yourself with how quickly you closed the gap between the two of you, enveloping yourself in his arms. Aaron squeezed at you tightly, tucking you under his chin and just letting you breathe until he felt the tension begin to melt away from your body. “It’s alright. He’s gone and I highly doubt he’s coming back.” His lips brushed against the top of your hair as he spoke and something about it calmed you even further, finally pulling out of the embrace.
“What was in the bag?”
“Trophies.” He replied with a sigh and he only caught himself when your eyes widened. “No, no, not those kind of trophies.” His hand squeezed at your shoulder, “sorry. Keepsakes, prizes, expensive things that can be pawned or sold to the highest bidder. My guess is he was only here to get your valuables, you spooked him coming home and he just wanted the bag back, he probably hit a few houses on the block before here.”
“God he was on the porch.” You shivered, “probably right as I walked in.”
“And your instinct was to grab a light bulb?” Aaron’s lips twitched up in a teasing grin and your brow furrowed until you followed his gaze and realized you hadn’t let go of the object yet.
“No.” You huffed, “the backyard light wasn’t working, I went to change it but it just needed to be tightened.”
“You were out there?”
“Yeah.” You shivered again, this time heavier, “he was probably less than a foot away. God, that was stupid.”
“Agreed.” He frowned in your direction, “that happens again you call me right away, alright?”
“You think he loosened it?”
“Most likely. Easier to stay in the darkness, not alert the neighbours of anything weird. You’ve always said Mrs. Ferguson was a bit too nosy.” His lips flicked up into a grin again and you let out a small laugh, “he probably cased the neighbourhood, have you been keeping the same daily routine recently?”
“Yeah.” You nodded, “movies with you. But we almost always go at the same time and tonight’s movie wasn’t any shorter or anything, so why would I have been home before he expected it?”
It was Aaron’s turn to fumble over his words, his cheeks turning a pale shade of pink while he quickly ducked his gaze, letting out an awkward laugh before he glanced back up at you. “I guess now would be the proper time to admit that when I drive, I tend to take the scenic route…”
Your head titled in a curious and adorable way that didn’t help the burning in Hotch’s cheeks, “what? What’d you mean?”
God you were absolutely going to be the death of him and he knew it. This summer had finally brought something to the edge for Aaron and he’d been holding back, happy with the time he got to spend with you. The evening hangouts had began to start to feel more and more like dates with each one that went passed and he’d been hoping that you would start to think the same and be the one to break the tension. Instead, he found himself feeling flustered, standing in your kitchen at nearly midnight having to explain it to you.
“Don’t get me wrong, the movies are great, but there’s something about the way you light up afterwards that just makes me smile.” He started and you felt a fluttering begin in your stomach, one that finally wasn’t due to fear, “hearing you gush about things, delve so deep into characterization or the cinematography of it all, seeing you so passionate about it.. it just makes me happy. Honestly, it’s my favourite part of the day.”
“Oh…” you replied, the realization washing over you and for a moment Aaron was afraid you were about to step back, ask him to leave, but then you giggled and the smile broke out on your lips, “so you’re just a big ole’ softie?”
He shook his head, the smile bright on his cheeks, “I’ve grown to adore the time we spend together. I was planning on taking a detour tonight too, Pintango just launched a lavender honey flavour this week—”
“And you remembered that I couldn’t shut up about wanting to try it after the movie last week…” you felt your cheeks heat, “embarrassing on my part yet endearing on yours.”
“And lucky on life’s behalf that it didn’t happen, you’d be down a few heirlooms and pieces of technology.”
“Yeah, no kidding.” You wrapped you arms around yourself, “my adrenaline’s high enough lord knows I’m not gonna be able to sleep anytime soon.” With a sigh you glanced across at him, “don’t suppose you feel like sticking around for a bit? Keeping me company while I ramble on and on about useless facts?”
The sly smile on your cheeks nearly melted Aaron and he laughed softly, “I wasn’t planning on going anywhere.”
He followed you out to the couch, letting you get comfortable while you voted on a number of different movies before finally settling on one. A movie and a half later and you were relaxed into the crook of his arm, his hand just daring to softly play with your hair. You let out a long yawn, sinking even further into his side and he chuckled softly.
“You should get to bed, get some actual rest.”
“I’m still on edge. I don’t want to have to call you to come running for every bump in the night.”
This time Aaron did squeeze at your shoulder, shifting on the couch so you were forced to sit up straight and he could catch your gaze.
“I meant it when I said I wasn’t going anywhere, at least not until sunrise. That creep’s likely going to come back for his bag, that’s why I dumped it in the alley rather than bringing it inside. I don’t want you to be alone for that.”
“Mmm…” you hummed, a sleepy smile on your cheeks, “you’re sweet. Thank you.” Leaning in, your lips brushed against his cheek and Aaron felt his stomach do a flip flop. He squeezed at your hand, giving you a soft smile as you finally stood up off the couch. “Make yourself at home.”
“Sweet dreams.” He replied and you weren’t sure whether it was his words or the sleepiness that was making everything feel warm and fuzzy as you made your way to the bedroom.
It was a few hours later when you rolled over, only awake enough to shift your body into a more comfortable position until a thump outside had your eyes shooting open. It was very quickly followed up by the hissing of two cats and you let out a huff, rolling back onto your side.
Your bedroom door was left cracked open and there was a sliver of light and the tiniest hint of noise coming from the living room meaning Hotch was likely still awake. You swung your legs over the edge of the bed, reaching for a hoodie to tug over your head before you padded out to the living room, finding your overnight company peering out the window blinds. At the sound of your footsteps he glanced back over to you, his body relaxing.
“Did I wake you?”
“No,” you waved him off with a small yawn, “couple a cats outside my window.” You covered a second yawn with your hand and Aaron barely moved from his spot, curious as to why you were up already. You glanced from him to the couch, a mug of coffee on the coffee table, and finally to the television. “Hey…” you started, picking at the sleeves of your hoodie, “I get you’re doing the whole protective thing—and I appreciate it! I really do…but uh.. there’s no reason for you to stay awake all night.” You took a breath, the butterflies in your stomach fully awake and doing laps, “might as well come to bed.”
“Oh, well I was just going to wait until morning, head home to nap…” He started, unsure of what he even wanted to say. He was pretty sure you’d just woken up, and there was a pretty high change that your choice of words weren’t exactly what you intended, “but if you’re feeling okay, I could make up the couch?”
“Aaron.” You laughed, “the sun’ll be up in a couple of hours anyways, you need to sleep too.”
“I still want to make sure you’re safe, I’ll be alert out here.” He offered and you chuckled once again.
“And if he comes in through the bedroom window? No better place to protect me than right beside me.” You extended out your hand, “c’mon, humour me? Maybe I talk in my sleep and you’ll get to listen to more of those ramblings you seem to adore so much.”
It appeared the lack of adrenaline coursing through your veins and a couple hours of sleep made you not only fully comprehend what Aaron had admitted to earlier, but much more ballsy about acting on it. He laughed softly, feeling the heat creeping up the back of his neck and after glancing between you and the couch he knew that the latter was going to do a number on his back if he actually slept on it. So he flicked off the television, scooped up his phone and your hand slid into his like a glove so you could lead him to the bedroom.
You wordlessly climbed back into your bed, curling up on your side, letting out a soft sigh as you nuzzled into the pillows. Aaron watched you for a moment in the low light, a warmth blooming through his chest at just how at peace and comfortable you were with him around and he realized maybe there was something he liked even better than your ramblings.
“If you’re just gonna stand there and stare at me all night maybe I should kick you back to the couch.” You teased, your eyes cracking open and he let out a huff of a laugh, shaking his head as he snuck under the blankets.
“This okay?” He asked, trying not to take up too much of your space.
“Yes.” You replied, a smile on your lips as your eyes fell shut again, “but I can’t be held responsible if we wake up cuddling.”
Aaron chuckled, relaxing into the pillow as his breathing finally began to slow, chest rising and falling at the same time yours did, lulling him into sleep quicker than he could have imagined.
*
The stream of light coming through the blinds and the chirping of a bird outside your window was what woke him up first, his eyes scrunching slightly before they finally opened. His lips curved up into a grin, as it certainly did seem like you wouldn’t be the one responsible for any cuddling. You’d barely moved from where you’d curled up the night before, just rolled over to face the window, yet Aaron found himself wrapped around your back, arm circled around your waist, his head barely on his own pillow.
He shifted slightly, attempting to stretch out the stiff parts of his body without moving entirely and waking you up. However his attempts proved futile as you let out a soft groan, eyes scrunching at the brightness of the room before you stretched out your legs and rolled over to face him, a sparkle already in your eyes.
“Morning.” You murmured.
“Morning.” He replied, smiling softly.
“So not only are you a softie, you’re a sleep cuddler… what other secrets are you hiding?” You asked with a tease and he laughed.
“Would you believe me if I said I crocheted in my downtime?”
“Not in a million years. You don’t have any downtime.” Laughing, you swatted at his chest before sitting up, fully stretching your body out with a soft groan.
“Guess that one was a little too obvious.” He replied with a chuckle, sitting up at the sound of his phone pinging. He swiped open the notification as you swung your legs out of bed, scrolling through a couple of things on your own phone as you padded toward the hallway.
“Work?” You asked, his footsteps following you down the hallway toward the kitchen, “or do you have time for coffee?”
“No.” He pocketed his phone, “but unfortunately, also no. I promised Garcia I’d help her install one of those cat wall climbing, enrichment, obstacle courses.”
“Cute.” You shot him a smile before scooping out the appropriate amount of coffee for yourself.
“But if you’re free tonight…” he stepped toward you as you turned back to face him, “maybe I could pick you up, we could go get some ice cream?” Somehow Aaron’s heart wasn’t thundering in his ears this time and the smile you looked up at him with really was about to make him melt.
“I’d like that.” You replied, the butterflies in your stomach calmed, spreading warmth through your entire body.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Then it’s a date.” Smiling, his hand reached out, smoothing back a piece of your hair before trailing down your cheek, “I’ll see you at seven.” His hand on your chin he tilted your head to the side, lips brushing against your cheek, lingering for just a moment before he stepped back. You couldn’t help but smile at the slight blush on his cheeks as he gathered his things and headed toward the front door.
“I’ll see you at seven.” You repeated his words, “and Aaron?”
“Hm?”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t ever be afraid to call.”
“Oh believe me, I won’t.”
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696 notes · View notes
satoruhour · 1 year ago
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Need sukuna in racer au 😩
REWARDS FROM A RACER
a/n: more of smut than him being a racer …. im not opposed to doing a ‘how they met’ ngl
wc: 2.1k
warnings: ooc sukuna, dom!sukuna, lewd declarations in public, he’s a little mean and calls you ‘whore’, ‘slut’, praise, degradation, pet names, car sex, semi-public sex, oral (m! receiving), light face-fucking, unprotected sex, riding, p → v penetration, clit stimulation, dash of daddy kink, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut
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“doll, c’mon, we don’t have much time till the race starts.” 
“i know, ’kuna! give me a minute, ’m just tightening the screws on the crankshaft.” you already hear the joke from miles away, a soft chuckle comes after he mumbles “heh, shaft” and you resist the urge to roll your eyes while stifling a smile. it seems like sukuna had enough of waiting for you in the driver’s seat, so he meets you at the front of the car where the hood is popped.
if anyone told you sukuna was someone who would’ve made time for anyone else but himself, you would laugh in their face because when had ryomen “king of curses” sukuna ever thought about anyone but himself? he had all that he could have: a ’66 Ford GT40 (that he named king of curses — a tad bit goofy, he knows), girls on his arm, first place for every race he took part in. he was untouchable.
but during a night in the midst of a drag race he saw you outside a club, barely catching a glimpse of you shoving off a man who couldn’t take no for an answer. he wasn’t surprised to see kenjaku — another racer from another region and someone who he had an infamous rival with — laugh when he had come to your rescue, cut off when the king of curses landed a clean hit to the other’s face. sukuna made sure you were okay after the whole debacle, but he also fucked you silly to show you how a man should really be treating you.
it was the only race he ever lost.
“sometimes i forget how much shit you put up with when you’re with me,” sukuna grins, a sneaky hand moving from your waist to your ass to squeeze it, “fixing my engine like an obedient little girl.”
you simply turn to him with a bored expression, but you can’t deny the throb between your legs when he talks to you like that, “glad you’re self aware, ’kuna.”
“smart mouth you have there, hm?” sukuna pulls you even closer against his front and you can already feel the half-hard bulge there. he’s always hard before a race, too. that you know, because it’s an emerging characteristic of his that you’re not opposed to because sukuna ends up pounding into you in his driver’s seat once the race is finished. he just can’t help the adrenaline, can’t he?
“guess i’ll just have to ruin you,” sukuna cuts off your next reply with a messy kiss, swallowing the soft moans that leave your mouth at the temporary relief you’re getting from grinding on him, “later.”
you scoff, feigning annoyance, “yeah, yeah, i know. you never miss a race.”
sukuna just smiles, smacking your ass slyly and makes his way to the driver’s seat before you have time to gasp, simply raising an eyebrow (“don’t tell me you didn’t like that?”) when you slap his chest later in the passenger seat.
“oh god, he’s going to do that thing again right?” beside you are the other more prominent racers of tokyo, the famous four excluding sukuna. gojo is the one who asked the question, nudging you with a grin that’s got you groaning into your hands. slowly, you nod.
across from you is sukuna in his Ford GT40, shouting with his windows rolled down, “i’m gonna fuck you so good after i win this race, princess!” and while you’re turned on at the prospect, you’re also wincing at how everyone whoops and cheers because he does this in every race. it never gets old, though, just as the laughter of the other four floods your ears.
“do you really have to scream it every time?” you lean down to the window once the two cars are at the starting line, running a hand through his mildly sweaty locks. his perspiration is a little pink from the dye he’s used to top up the colour of his hair and you jokingly wipe your wet hands on his top.
sukuna grabs your wrist, pulling you gently to give you a noisy, sloppy kiss, his words whispered against your lips, “they have to know how you scream every night.”
you tsk with a laugh, hand reaching down to palm his dick that makes him grunt, “give ’em hell, baby.”
and he definitely makes the other wish he never was born. sukuna likes to play dirty, bumping into the rear of the other when he’s behind, sending a middle finger to the racer when he passes him, it’s part of why your boyfriend tends to prefer solitude because he’s not on everyone’s good side.
with skidding tires, sukuna finishes with a dashing grin, but he’s so focused on you that he doesn’t realise the crowd around him, some reaching forward to congratulate him, others wanting to touch his car. the racer barks out before anyone can violate his ride.
“oi, you fuckin’ idiots dare touch my car and i swear i’ll fuck up yours.”
beside you, geto mutters out a yeesh while gojo just giggles, patting your shoulder before you bid goodbye to the famous four. the crowd makes way for you, naturally, when you walk towards his car, because what kind of mental person willingly dates sukuna? they follow your figure as you make your way to him, swaying your hips for everyone to see, but you hardly care when all you can fixate on is his promise to you before every race starts.
and all he does that night is fulfil his promise, whisking you away from the cramped parking lot and into the late tokyo roads, whizzing past street lamps and cop cars and howling at the top of his voice. he loves it, he loves you and you see it every time he drives you home after a late night race and every time he noisily drives up to you when someone’s bothering you.
sukuna loves your body, too, because all you know later on is his cock in your mouth on a quiet, remote mountain used for drifting. with the winter season approaching, it was desolate, except for the way your head bobs up and down on his length, which hardens even more inside your mouth.
“that’s it, fuckkk yes.” sukuna groans, a hand clutching onto the leather of his seat while the other finds purchase in your hair, pulling on your locks till it hurts. with his hips moving erratically paired with the soreness in your jaw, it’s really the only thing you can concentrate on in an awkward position while hovering over the stick shift. “suck like the dirty cockslut you are.”
“’kuna, mmfhh—!” your hands rush to find his thighs on a particularly deep thrust, tip hitting the back of your throat and you look up at sukuna through teary lashes and breathe through your nose before he lets you off briefly. but your mouth is too warm just like how your pussy feels and sukuna forces your head onto him again.
sukuna groans when he lets you do your own thing, mouth taking half of him while your hands help you with the other, alternating between taking sucking the bottom of his cock and lapping at his tip, continuing to flutter your lashes at him.
“stick out your tongue f’me, doll,” he manages to choke out a moan, grabbing his cock to slap it on your tongue (it’s so heavy that you moan), making lewd sounds before he starts thrusting again, feeling every inch of your mouth with no time to warn you of his impending orgasm until the car is filled with his incessant groans and grunts, hips faltering at how your mouth just keeps sucking. “fuck— i’m cumming.” sukuna spills unexpectedly, shooting his cum deep down your throat and you moan around his shaft. he’s not laughing now, focused solely on getting every last bit of cum into your system as he tilts his head back in utmost pleasure. 
“take all of it,” his movements slow down, admiring how you look like you worship him with a lax mouth and pleading eyes, and he knows you do, but before that he’s ensuring you know that his worship of you overtakes yours by miles, pulling you impatiently to his seat before dragging your panties to the side. the other likes it when you wear skirts, easy access he says, licking his lips in anticipation when he sees how the fabric sticks to your cunt from how wet you were, leaving a string of arousal that snaps once it’s far enough.
“well? what’re you waiting for?” sukuna raises an eyebrow, a small chuckle leaving him when you mumble out a i’m getting to it! as you gather the slick leaking from your needy pussy. the feel of his mushroom tip against your clit is gratifying and you line him up before sinking down slowly. even after taking him multiple times, his size always makes your eyes widen and jaw drop at the stretch, incoherent whimpers leaving as he watches you take all nine inches of him.
“s’kuna, f-fuck…” you wrap your arms around his neck, suddenly shy at being so spread open for him to see, “s’big, you’re so big!” he hums, pressing little kisses down the side of your face while kneading your ass, plush thighs nestled around his pelvis so cutely that he appreciates your brief pause before you start riding him — because he can’t resist cumming when he sees you crying on top of him, trying his best to prolong the way you feel around him.
“i know i’m big, but you’re taking me so well, aren’t you, baby?” sukuna coos, holding your eyes that struggle to stay open as you bounce on his thick cock, ass meeting his hips in noisy pap’s as you flood his car with whining pleas of him filling you to the brim. there’s a white ring of pre-cum at the base of his shaft where your juices mix, dripping down the hilt and onto his balls, definitely soaking his leather seats. “just a whore for me to fuck stupid, yea?”
you nod frantically, babbling to no one as you throw your head back, pussy clenching when his lips meet your tits and he sucks hard on your nipples, flicking his tongue around your buds before moving to the other. “got so t-tight from me doing that,” sukuna laughs, wrapping a hand ’round your chin to force you to look at him. lips pursed, eyes blown wide from his cock in your cunt, hair sticking to your forehead, he swear he could cum deep in you right there and then.
“you love how i stretch you out?” he then yanks your head down to make you watch how your pelvis meets his, juices spurting in all directions by how wet you were. it truly was a sight, how his cock disappears into you and reappears, thighs burning from how fast you were bouncing on him.
“love it s’much, daddy,” you whine, eyes rolling to the back of your skull as you grab his free hand, bringing it to your neglected clit that’s been throbbing all night, “but i n-need you here, s’kuna…” and when he starts to rub circles into your puffy clit, you jolt at the feeling, screaming out obscenities at the sensations that overwhelm your body. he knows you’re getting tired and close, too.
so he shocks you by thrusting up, your body immediately halting to receive the way he rails into you and while your muscles are still cramping, it’s infinitely better than riding him. with his thrusts and his hand on your clit, you can already feel the coil in your stomach turning as your body slumps against him, “daddy!”’s spilling from your lips with mixed wanton moans. “that’s it, a good little slut who’s taking daddy’s cock, fuck—”
“so warm, and tight,” within seconds, his thrusts are irregular when you start to clench around him again, high-pitched whines filling his ears before you reach your high with a slack jaw and trembling thighs, body lined with sweat. but it’s the way your cum leaks down his length that gets sukuna releasing after you, the familiar pleas of wanting his cum deep in your cunt. he does just that, grunting into your neck when his hips thrust deeply before he releases his hot, thick semen into your pussy, gushing out because there’s just so much.
“love it when i breed my girl,” he mutters with a laugh breathlessly while you’re moaning softly at how he’s still spilling into you, overflowing cum leaking from your cunt even when he’s still inside. sukuna grins when your hips never really stop, still continuing to grind aimlessly.
“love my sweet girl who can’t think of anything but getting fucked stupid.”
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perfctvelvet · 5 months ago
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can you do sabrina carpenter!!
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Happy Fucking New Year; Sabrina Carpenter/Fem!Reader
Content: 2nd POV. Strangers, alcohol mention, semi-public (hooking-up in the bathroom of some rich person's house), making out, oral sex
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No one wanted to be alone this New Years and you were no exception. The only problem was that your friend, the one who happens to the social butterfly brought you to a party where you don't know anyone here besides her. Everyone was dressed to the nines; shimmering dresses with make up to match and expensive suits. Having a friend who works in PR was an unexpected perk in her life, but having a friend who works in PR means when you're out they're always in networking mode. Coming here, to some random person's mega-mansion, was thrilling at first but the shine was beginning to dull immediately.
You had lost your friend somewhere in the fray of the fancy just less than an hour before midnight. Many people were here with partners, spouses, and lovers, and to you it seemed like you and your friend were the only single ones. You didn't let it get to you because you had her, but now she was gone. All you had was your too-small purse and a vodka soda you weren't a big fan of.
Just as the night couldn't get more painful, someone bumps into you. There was no love lost for the beverage that you spilled but now it was all over your dress. You may have been feeling alone, but your dress was the only thing you had. You got it one random day in the summer at the encouragement of your friend that she will give you a reason to wear it. You felt confident walking out of the car tonight and into the party. That was only two hours ago and oh how everything seemed to cave in.
"Fuck! I'm so, so sorry!"
This woman who bumped into you sounded sincere in her apologies. At first you thought you were being mocked, but the way she tried to wipe off your dress before it could stain seemed too real.
"I-It's okay."
You couldn't even bring yourself to look at her. Instead you were looking around you at the people who were beginning to look at the commotion. You were hoping to lock eyes with your friend so she could rescue you, but she was still nowhere to be found.
"Ugh! C'mon!"
Before you could register what was going on, you were being dragged away by the woman who ruined your dress. You were too relieved by being saved from the embarrassment to make a fuss. She lead you to one of the many guests bathroom in the house. She was bold, shutting the door behind you two and almost forcing you to sit on the counter. She grabbed one of the fancy, embroidered towels and wets it to continue her efforts to save your dress. Even though you appreciated her eagerness to fix her mistake, you can't help but be enamored and a little amused by the situation.
"It was just a vodka soda. Don't worry, it's not going to stain my dress."
It seems as if your voice is what gets to her. She slowly stops frantically wiping off the parts of your dress that is covered in vodka and looks up at you. She's stunning, so much so that you begin to lose your confidence.
"I hope I didn't take you away from whoever you cam here with." She finally puts the towel down and you get to hear her voice in a more relaxed state.
"No, no, I just came with a friend, but I lost her somewhere so I was just kind of by myself." You felt like a loser saying that out loud, but something lights up in the stranger's eyes at your confession.
"Glad I'm not the only one here feeling a little dejected."
"What do you mean?"
She points to the spot next to you, gesturing if she could sit beside you. There was plenty of space on the counter and she didn't have to ask, but you made space for her anyway.
"What was supposed to be a girls' night New Years Eve get together turned into us coming here, and just like you I have no clue where my friends with."
It wouldn't be shocking to either of them if their friends found someone gorgeous and well-off to talk to, but you were sure your friend was more concerned with making connections than the imminent countdown to the new year. You empathized with this woman, but still couldn't get over the shock that someone who looks like her was feeling the same loneliness tonight.
"I guess that's a common theme tonight. It's never really happened before so I think that's why it stings so much. I'm Y/n by the way."
"Sabrina," she sticks her hand out for you to take which you do. You two shake hands for a few seconds before breaking away. You felt like you had made a new friend tonight and you were a little proud of yourself. You were never the most sociable one in the room, so it's fitting that your main way of meeting new people is through an embarrassing moment.
"You said you came here with a friend? Just one? Are they a friend or a friend."
"Just a friend. We were roommates one year in college and I reached out to her when I moved out here to LA. She's always been primed for this kind of life, not me, so I needed her to guide me through the upsides and downs of living here."
"There are a lot of ups, like being invited to some rich ass dude's New Years Eve party. The downs would be the perpetual loneliness that seems like a requirement."
"I take it you've been in LA for years?"
"Almost two decades now. Feels like it's been a life time."
"Do you like it? I've only been here for two years and I'm still figuring out how I feel about it."
"Well, like you said, it has it's ups and downs. Some times there are more downs than ups, and vice versa. I would say right now that sitting in the bathroom of a boring party with a pretty girl who is being kind to me after I fucked up her dress is one of the ups."
You break eye contact with her to spare yourself the embarrassment. You feel a heat creep up your neck and beat you right in the face. You never learned how to take a compliment without completely crumbling. You already found Sabrina to be interesting and pretty, but now your heart was starting to beat out of your chest.
"And I hope this doesn't sound weird, but I'm kind of glad I literally ran into you. I saw you earlier in the party and I couldn't stop staring at you. I hope I don't sound like a creep."
"No, not at all! I'm just shocked to say the least."
What snapped you out of your shock was the sound of people cheering and getting rowdy outside of the bathroom. At first you feared someone was going to come in, ruining your solace. But then Sabrina checks her phone and sees that it's almost midnight.
"Two more minutes then it's 2024. I'll be honest, Y/n, I didn't expect to spend my last minutes of 2023 like this. I sort of feel like a klutz."
"Don't be sorry. Like I said my dress is fine, just a little sticky, but one wash it'll be alright."
The both of you end up getting distracted by the rowdiness outside the door. You were half tempted to get up and join them just to watch everyone ring in the New Year together, but you stay put. You notice how Sabrina isn't budging and you get the impression that she wants to stay with you in her last moments of 2023. Soon the start the countdown.
"10...9...8...7..."
In just a few seconds you feel fingers weave through yours and Sabrina grabbing your face. You let her control your body, turning your head to face her.
"6...5...4..."
It takes just seconds for your heart to flutter with an emotion you haven't felt in a long time.
"3...2...1...Happy New Year!"
Sabrina's lips meet yours on the very first syllable of "happy." For the first time in years you genuinely felt the meaning.
At first it felt innocent, just two lonely souls filling the void together, but Sabrina didn't want to pull away. She kissed you deeper, harder. The lust was radiating off of her and it was overwhelming. The last way you expected to bring in the new year was a bathroom hook-up, but surprisingly you weren't turned off to the idea. No one has ever come on this strong to you before and being in LA you were beginning to think you were a love repellant. This kiss left your breathless and starving for more. You grab onto Sabrina, unintentionally laying one hand on her breast in the process. Neither of you seemed to care as your tongues bumped against each other's. It was becoming a little sloppy, with Sabrina taking you there, but you enjoyed it. There is a hint of lemon on her tongue and you wondered why type of drinks a girl like Sabrina would drink. She was bold, yet refreshing.
Sabrina pulls away, panting and her lipstick smudged. She's looks a little messy now but she smiles regardless. She's so happy that you're receptive to her touch and that you seemed to enjoy the kiss too.
"Was that too much?" She wipes the edges of her mouth.
"I think we're beyond the point of worrying about what's too much now."
You're the one to lean in this time. You continue what Sabrina started, the blonde leaning into this time until she wraps her arms around your neck. You were at the point of no return and you wouldn't dare turn back. You wanted more; you wanted her.
"Do you think you can be quiet?" You ask her between kisses?
She hums affirmatively against your lips before you break the kiss. She moans breathlessly when your lips land on her neck. So much for being quiet because her moan fills the room. Of course the party outside still raged on as being in a whole new year put a new life into the party. The sound of the bass of the music thumped against the walls, but nothing could overtake the sound of Sabrina's sweet moans. You finally get between her legs, your knees pressed into the soft rug. She places her legs on your shoulders and you come face to face with her pussy. It didn't surprise you, but seeing her without panties made your face grow hot.
"I hope you don't mind, I left them at home," she says with a salacious tone.
You didn't mind at all, you were happy to have easier access to her wet pussy. You can't go another minute without it seeing what she tastes like. Sabrina whines when your face disappears between her legs under her dress. She pulls it up and catches the very moment your tongue meets her dripping sex. She moans so loud that she has to put her own hand over her mouth. You lick and lick and lick and somehow she's able to keep herself from screaming out in pleasure. It was like you knew her body and knew what buttons to press. She feels a rush run through her and she's on cloud nine. Never has a stranger made her so happy and feels so good. She moves her hand from her mouth and promises herself she'll be good and keep as quiet as possible. She knuckles turn white as she grips the edge of the counter.
"Oh Y/n that feels so fucking good," she whines. "I've been thinking about this all night."
The thought of someone being so turned on by you that they fantasized about it after seeing you once was astounding. You were shocked to have that power over someone, especially over someone so beautiful. You felt lucky, lucky to be invited here (the party and between Sabrina's legs). You pull away from her pussy and rub her clit.
"Did you want me so bad that you spilled a drink on me?"
Sabrina doesn't answer, just moans as she throws her head back in pleasure. You stop rubbing her clit to insert a finger into her pussy. When she feels your tongue back on her clit paired with the finger inside of her she almost cums. But she wants to savor the taste, feel this forever. She thinks she's strong enough to hold herself back, but your fingers are stronger than her will. You insert another one into her and her walls wrap warmly and tightly around the two. Your hitting the spot that makes her legs shake. Sabrina desperately wants to cry out loud, but she wouldn't dare risk getting caught and letting the moment end. She's so so close, tettering on that blissful edge. You kiss her inner thigh not once, or twice, but a few times. It makes her legs shake. She forgets about trying to hold back when she feels the 5th kiss pressed to her thigh.
She fears that you might get turned off by how hard she cums, but you enjoy it very much. She closes her eyes, bites her lip, and tosses her head back in ecstasy. A tear runs down her rosy cheek too. Her make-up is probably too fucked up for saving, but no one is going to care, so neither does she.
"Earth to Sabrina...you here with me?" You tease her. You're not sure if she likes that, but she just let you eat her out and finger, a little teasing is harmless in comparison.
She opens her eyes a few seconds later and a sweet, relaxed smile forms on her face.
"People are probably looking for us," you say to her when she finally looks down at you.
"Let them look."
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decojellyfish · 10 months ago
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New Friend!
Hi, this is my first post! So please be nice, and if you have any constructive criticism, please comment! I hope you like it :)
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Hybrid AU! TF141 Fancy Kitty! Reader x Rescue Dog! Ghost and Rescue Dog! Soap (Feat. a tiny bit of x Owner! Price) Reader acts fem but is only addressed with “you”
SFW ~ Fluff (Tiny bit of angst, if you squint) Warnings: Mentions of death (though, not directly)
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───♡───────────── Beginning Your life was everything you could ask for. Always brushed, fed the finest cuisine a kitty could ask for, and wearing the finest items your owner got you. Your favorite was a collar that looked like a pearl necklace, similar to the one your owner wore daily. Your fur smelled like her too, vintage perfume (her favorite from when she was a teenager, though she always talked about how it was hard to come by now in the modern day), and those little strawberry bonbons she always kept in her purse. And you would always have a pretty pink bow tied around the base of your fluffy tail. Resting your head in her lap, her aged hands petting your white fluffy ears or brushing them with this one brush. A beautiful golden brush, with an ivory plaque on the back that had roses, tulips, and violets painted. It was her favorite from when she was a little girl. Life is good, life is paradise.
Until one day, she didn’t get out of bed. You were still curled up in your pink fluffy cat bed, waiting to hear her sweet voice call out your name whilst serving up your borderline gourmet breakfast. After about an hour, your confusion pushed you out of bed and made you go to your owner’s room. She was still sleeping? Maybe she had a rough time sleeping last night and just felt like sleeping in. Yeah, that was it! She was pretty old after all, why wouldn’t she want to sleep in once in a while? So you curled up atop the floral bedsheets, nice and close to your owner, and waited for her to wake up. You knew she would love to wake up to her pretty little kitty all snuggled up because you missed her so much! So you waited. And waited.
And waited.
A few days passed. Wow, this must’ve been the sleepiest old woman you’d have ever seen! She even had visitors and she didn’t even wake up. It was kind of strange though. They were crying as if they were watching one of those sad movies your owner would watch, with you curled up beside her. The day your world came crashing down would be the day these strange people came to your owner’s house. One of them guided you down to the kitchen, proceeding to feed you some random wet food they found on the counter. You hadn’t even realized how hungry you were while you were waiting for your owner to wake up. You hadn’t even noticed the other people carrying your owner’s body out of the house while this one person was playing with you. Jingling your favorite bell toy, calling you a “precious little kitty, so beautiful, yes you are!” the whole time.
That’s when he came into the picture. He came in an hour after these people arrived, it was John Price. Your owner’s son. He had come to visit her a few times, you enjoyed his presence when he was visiting. Price approached you and began to pet your silky, fluffy white hair and fur. “Hey there, pretty thing. How’ve you been holding up?” You didn’t know what he meant by that, but your purrs were all he needed to hear to not fret over you. He figured you were okay and ready to go with him. When he began to guide you out to his car, that was when you realized that he was taking you somewhere! He reassured you that your owner wouldn’t mind having you go on a little trip. You didn’t know you were headed to Price’s own house, all of your belongings in his trunk unbeknownst to you. You, in the present, wouldn’t be mad at Price for taking you home with him and becoming your new owner. No, you wouldn’t mind that at all, John Price was a lovely person! Like his mother. What made you pissed at him was the fact that he never mentioned the two dog hybrids he also had ownership of. That also lived in the house.
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
Price had told Ghost and Soap, his two rescue dogs, about the new arrival of a new addition to the family. That of which is a cat. Ghost wasn’t excited about the thought of a cat being in the house all day, every day. It annoyed him, he never really liked cats. Soap, on the other hand, was very excited to meet the new kitty. He had been waiting, impatiently, by the door ever since Price had gone off to retrieve the cat hybrid. Once Price had finally returned, Soap was ecstatic. He pounced on the first being that entered the doorway, licking their face all over. That first being was you. You screeched and hissed at the seemingly rabid dog that was coating you in slobber. He was mucking up your hair, too! Once Soap realized that it wasn’t Price, but, the new kitty that Price had brought home, he grew even more elated. Before he could continue any further with his slobber, Price had pulled Soap away from you, giving you time to breathe. Your tail was beyond fluffy now, you were terrified. Your claws were out and almost gripping the welcome mat by the front door. Soap was confused, Ghost’s guard was up, and Price knew in the back of his head that something like this would happen.
It took you a while to settle in, you were still frightened by the dogs and would try to maintain a distance from them. Ghost would happily oblige, avoiding you whenever you were around. Soap, not so much. He ruined his first impression meeting you! He scared you, and that is not what a good dog does. So, he spent all day and night all over you. He would tell you about his day, and ask you about yours, only for you to stay quiet, and then he would continue talking to you. Soap LOVED being around you. Why wouldn’t he? You’re such a pretty kitty, you smelled good, and your fur was so soft and silky! He loved pawing at the little bell attached to your pink ribbon collar. It was so cute! You looked like royalty with it. Ghost, on the other hand, would mumble about how uppity you seemed. Spoiled, bratty. I mean, at some points you did act like that. Whenever Price didn’t get the right food for you, whenever the sun wasn’t shining in the right spot for you to bask in it, or how loud and annoying the boys’ squeaky toys were. You and Ghost would often avoid each other. Whenever you would accidentally brush up against each other in the halls, it would result in you hissing and him growling loudly, baring his teeth. Price would have to step in and separate you two, telling you both to quit it. But back to Soap, who is an absolute lovebug when it comes to you. He would come by and curl up right next to you whenever you were curled up and lying in the sunlight. At first, you would get up and leave to a new spot. But eventually, you gave up and let him curl up as close to you as he wanted to. Through Soap’s constant yapping, you find out that both he and Ghost were survivors of illegal underground dog fighting. They were from different parts of the UK, but they both ended up at the same shelter. That’s how they met Price. Soap would point out all of his scars, telling their backstories, and talking about all the other injuries he went through. He would also compliment you, as well as attempt to pamper you. You had to give him instructions on how your owner used to do it.
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
It smelled of overwhelming masculinity in the house. It was such a drastic change from the old lady perfume and flowers that your old home smelled like. It took you a bit to get adjusted to the lack of floral prints that your new home had. One day, you were especially homesick. Even though you were in your new, permanent, home, you still missed your old home. It was foggy out that day, the weather not helping your mood at all. You were curled up on the couch as you looked out the window with sad eyes, your fluffy tail flicking around as you were deep in thought. You hadn’t even noticed Soap and Ghost staring at you, they could smell the sadness radiating off of you. It was a slightly pungent smell compared to your usual scent that smelled of fresh flowers. It made Soap whine and quickly approach you. He curled up close to you, trying to soothe you, bring you out of your sad thoughts, with his warmth. It did help, it brought you out of your deep thoughts. But you still smelled of sadness. You would curl up against him, letting out a tiny sigh.
Then Ghost curled up next to you.
That was a first. He had always avoided you, per your request. But you didn’t mind this sudden act of affection. It was nice, you got a better chance to identify the keynotes of his scent. With Soap being around you so much, you had no choice but the memorize what he smelled like. Musk, timber wood, vanilla, and tiny hints of coconut. Part of that was because of the shampoo that Price would wash him in during bath nights. You had always kind of known what Price smelled like, what with him visiting your old owner every so often. Dirt, but not in a dirty way, an earthy way, smokey, toffee, and sandalwood. Cozy. You eventually came around and stopped being so mad at him for not telling you about his dog hybrids. Especially since you started to like them now. Kind of. Ghost, he always kind of smelled smokey. But not like Price. Price smelled smokey in a round way. Ghost smelled smokey in a sharper way. Kind of a difference between cigars and pungent cigarettes. But now that he was sitting so close to you, to wipe that sad look off your face, you could get a more clear reading of his scent. Smokey, yet bitter, musk, cedar wood, and lavender. That also must have been because of the shampoo. But they must have two separate shampoos that they picked individually. You had your own that Price had brought from your old home. It smelled of cherry blossoms.
Fast forward a few minutes, now Soap is teaching Ghost how you like your hair brushed with your favorite brush. And you’re crying and venting about how much you miss your owner and your old home.
This caused Soap to have a lightbulb moment.
A few days later, you’re napping in your cat bed when you suddenly start to wake up to a familiar scent. Rose petals, peonies, orchids, and lotuses. Flowers. You wondered if you had suddenly returned back to her old home. You open your eyes. Nope, you’re still at Price’s. But the scent is coming from a little candle, in an ivory candle holder (a favorite of your old owner), sitting on the dining room table. Price noticed you as he finished serving breakfast for you and the boys. He explained that he “found it at the shop and thought you would like it.” Actually, Soap had begged him to find a way to cheer you up because it hurt him so badly to see you cry like that! Ghost was standing by Soap, not moving a single bit. But Price could see in his eyes that he was silently agreeing. He didn’t want to admit it, but he cared for the little cat hybrid. So Price had gone out and looked for his mother’s favorite candle. He knew the one. Now, back to the present, you’re looking at the candle with wide eyes. You’re looking at Price, then the boys, then the candle, then Price again. You feel your eyes start to sting. Tears abruptly well up in your eyes. All of the men are now worried. Did they mess up? Did Price pick the wrong candle? But he was sure of it! Soap quickly got up and hugged you tightly, asking why you were crying. Ghost even got up and walked over to you, just as worried but he wouldn’t show it. You eventually explain to them through tears and hiccups, that you love all they’ve done to make this new place feel like your old home. It makes you so happy that they want to see you happy and comfortable. They’re all relieved, Price gently wiping away your tears with a handkerchief his mother gifted to him when he first went into the military, petting your fluffy ears and stroking your cheek with his thumb.
These men all love you, they would do anything to not see you in pain. And you love them just as much, knowing that they would do anything to protect you. :3
───♡───────────── End
Again, if you have any constructive criticism, please comment below!
Thank you for reading :)
989 notes · View notes
silentcryracha · 11 months ago
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❍ ‗ Tough Work - Bang Chan ‗ ❍
Pairing : Bang Chan x f Reader
Summary : Bang Chan gets his plans ruined yet again by a late notice schedule and he's pissed. His friends call his girlfriend to the rescue to calm him down before he punches his laptop.
Word count : 3.2k
Warnings/tags : a little angst at the beginning, Chan is an emotional mess, swear words, smut (ONLY 18+), sex on a desk chair, unprotected sex (don't be silly goofy y'all), use of pet name baby, baby girl.
A/n : I had some inspo (not gonna tell you eheh) + it's the holiday season so yeah why not! Let's slut the holidays away🤣🙏🏻 merry Xmas pookies 🤎Also be KIND it's my first full written fic since like...august or sumn
masterlist
ps: No Beta'd. Do NOT repost on other socials. Leave feedback if you feel like it, otherwise enjoy!
♡︎.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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 When Hyunjin called you, it definitely came as a surprise. It was around five pm and you were doing absolutely nothing except chill on the couch watching a movie on your (very deserved) days off for the holidays. Until the phone suddenly rang, making you curious as you saw the name calling. Especially since you thought you heard Chan, your boyfriend, saying that they were working today.
'Hello?'
'Hey, yn, hi. Are you busy right now?' your friend's voice sounded slightly defeated as he answered, even though you could tell he was trying to play it off.
'Hyune, hi. No, I'm not, what's up? Is everything okay?' you sat straight, listening carefully.
'Yes and no. Listen, we got some late notice from the company and now Chan hyung is pissed. Like very pissed.' you frowned as he sighed, 'But mostly he's upset. And I know for a fact that the only thing that can calm him down it's you. Would you mind maybe coming over?'
You and Chan were supposed to meet at your apartment to have dinner together later, despite that you didn't even think twice before getting up and walking to your room to change quickly.
'Yes, got it. Don't worry, I'll be there in 10.'
-
You didn't bother getting ready properly, with a full on makeup and hair done, or a carefully picked out outfit. Usually you'd have some decency going out, even just for meeting your friends. But right now you didn't have the time, nor the mood for it.
Hyunjin didn't give too many details, but since he mentioned a late notice schedule, you probably imagined that it would mess with your and Chan's plans for New Year's. It was not the first time that it happened unfortunately, but then again, it was his work. He couldn't truly help it, and you knew that it upset him.
You put on a gray wool oversized dress, some pantyhose, a padded jacket and a beanie, after quickly fixing your hair slightly. Then you grabbed your bag and before you knew it, you were in your car driving to the boys' dorm.
-
Like you predicted, around ten minutes later you arrived and opted on sending Hyunjin a text instead of ringing the bell. He immediately came to answer the door and gave you a quick hug and a small smile.
'Changbin is not home. Me and Jisung are going out for a while, okay? Let me know when the threath has been doomed.' he joked, just as you waved to Jisung who was wrapping a big scarf around his neck. He smiled back and hugged you too.
'Thank you, yn. He wouldn't hear us out at all, so we decided to call you.' he said. You shook your head slightly as you took off the beanie.
'It's okay. I'm sorry that you guys probably also had some plans spoiled.' you responded. They both had a sweet yet quite defeated expression on as you switched places, them on the doorstep on their way out and you on your way in.
'Ah, It's alright. It's out job after all. Take your time, alright?' Hyunjin replied, and you nodded with a small smile before they closed the door behind them.
You sighed, mentally preparing to try and not look too disappointed. You were, of course, but now it wasn't about you. And besides, the last thing you would've wanted was to make Chan feel more guilty.
You made your way down the corridor to his room, which was pretty much silent. You knocked on the door gently, and just after a couple of seconds your boyfriend showed up. He was wearing a black hoodie, gray tracksuit pants and his big headphones. His face looked tired, serious and there was the slightest hint of red in his eyes.
His expression switched fast as soon as he realized it was you at the door and not one of his roommates, which had already taken turns in trying to comfort him and calm him down. He even had a small argument with Changbin, hence why he had to leave the house before they started shouting names at each other.
'Yn? What- weren't we supposed to meet later? Did I loose track of time-?' he quickly glanced down at the time on his phone, taking off the headphones with one hand and discarding them on his bed. The wallpaper being a sweet picture of you too making yout heart shrink a bit.
'Channie, hi baby. No, it's okay, you didn't. A little bird told me you needed some cheering up.' you smiled sweetly at him as you brought your hands up to stroke his arms.
He scoffed, releasing himself from your grip gently, just to walk back and plop down on his big plush desk chair.
'Which one of those fu-...ah, I don't even care. I assume that they told you, then?' he sighed heavily, stopping himself from curing at his friends. You walked closer, taking off your bag and jacket, placing them on the clothes hanger behind the door.
'Don't be mad. They did it because they care about you enough to not see your hair turn white from stress before your time.' you tried to lighten up the mood, but it didn't seem to work as he just proceeded to put his head down in between his hands.
Your smile fell, taking a deep breath, understanding that he really needed some time to get out his feelings first.
'Just about a late notice schedule. Nothing more, but I assume that it's for New Year's. Is that why you're so upset?' you scrunched down in frot of him, your hands placed on his knees.
He waited a few seconds before speaking, his voice low and quite monotone. 'We got two Japan schedules for the 31st and the 1st. But we have to leave on the 29th. And we'll probably not going to be back before the 2nd. Just in time for our already pre paid and organized planes to be canceled. Of fucking course.' his tone getting sharper as he spoke.
You stroked his thigh gently to comfort him, 'I'm sorry, baby. I know you were looking forward to a few days off.' you responded. He shook his head, frowning as he sat up straight.
'Fuck the days off. I can have days off all year. I was looking forward to spending at leas one fucking holiday with my girlfriend, in peace in a nice luxury cabin in the middle of damn nowhere.' he ranted angrily, before pausing for a second and giving you a quick look. 'It's me the one who should be sorry.'
'But it's not your fault, Chan. It's work, you have schedules and many times they may not be planned. That's how it works for many other jobs too, think about it.' you try to reason, once again taking his hands into your stroking them.
'It's the third time in four months. First it was your birthday, then Christmas, and now New Year's. It's starting to stress me out. Isn't it stressing you out?' he asked, frowning. You sighed.
'What do you want me to say? 'Chris this is too much, you're always busy with stuff that's out of your control so I'm leaving you'? Is that what you want to hear?' your tone slightly more stern. You weren't mad, but his constant throwing himself under the bus was bothering you. He widened his brown eyes, squeezing your hands slightly.
'No! What? Of course not. I was just-' you stood up straight, shushing him.
'Then stop with that shit. We can reschedule later. I don't give a fuck whether it is December 31st or April, or whatever. I'll be happy to spend time with my boyfriend and that's it. Okay? Stop beating yourself up about it.' your voice got warmer. He leaned forward, resting his head on your stomach and wrapping his arms around your waist to bring you close.
'Still. Im sorry that I keep disappointing you. You deserve better.' the last sentence made you snap so you pushed him back slightly, making him look up at you.
'Oi, don't say shit like that. It's not true.' the little oi clearly being his Aussie influence.
'You are better. You're the best. Don't ever say that, because it's not true. I love you.' you cradled his face in your hands. His big brown eyes looking up at you so sweetly.
'Am I though?' he said sadly. Always doubting himself, you sighed internally.
'Yes you are.' you planted a kiss on his lips, trying to lighten up the mood 'Besides, you know that I'm too honest. If you were being shitty to me I'd tell you. Well, I'd tell your friends first and then you. Just to add that bit of embarrassment.' you shrinked your eyes jokingly, finally getting a chuckle out of him.
That made you smile in return, as you kept caressing his cheeks with your thumbs. He looked up at you again, shaking his head slightly with a small smile on his face. 'What?' you said cutely.
'I love you so much. I wonder what did I do to deserve you.' you smiled sweetly at him before switching again, and clicking your tongue.
'Getting sappy here, Christopher' you released his face, about to turn around to go get your phone, just to shoot a quick message to Hyunjin reassuring that the situation was handled, but chan grabbed your hand making you turn around.
He laughed, smirking up at you slightly. 'Hey, come back here' you chuckled, letting yourself be dragged back. You were now standing in between his legs, him still sitting on his big desk chair.
'You need something?' you joked. 'Just my girl. Right here. Close to me.' your smile turned into a smirk, as your hands started to wander on his shoulders.
'I am close.' his hands came up to your waist then down to your hips, pushing you more into him, your faces close.
'Closer' you carefully straddled him, your arms around his neck.
'Enough?' he chuckled faintly, his lips grazing your neck and then whispering 'Never' into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.
'Greedy boy' you teased 'I can get even more greedy. Will you let me?' he looked back at you, the slightest hint of humor in his voice, but his eyes were telling a different story.
'Yes' you respondeded without a doubt. 'Go ahead. Do whatever you want. I know you need it.' at that point he crashed his lips to yours, immediately starting a passionate kiss. Your hands gripped his broad shoulders as his hands pressed your hips down to his crotch.
At that point your dress had already pooled around your hips, so the only thing separating you two were your pantyhose and panties, aside from his own pants. As you continued kissing and grinding, he got hard quite quickly.
One of his hands were holding you close to him while the other wandered under the dress and then straight to the hem of the pantyhose and the panties.
'Off' he mumbled in between kisses, so you carefully stood up, a little dazed from the heat of the moment and quickly discarded them both at the same time. Chan also got up to get rid of his own pants and underwear, and then reprised to kiss you.
He tried to lead you to the bed, but you stopped him 'No, I want to ride you there' you slowly pushed him back on the chair, his gaze not leaving you for a single moment.
'Fuck baby' he cursed, before widening his eyes for a moment 'Wait let me close the door-' you pushed him back again, shooting him a smirk.
'Relax, baby. Hold on' you went to close the door, turning the lock for safety, even though you knew that most likely none of the members would've stepped back into the house unless you told them to.
'Need you so bad, c'mere' he grabbed your hand, almost making you stumble into him. You chuckled, straddling him again. He wetted his fingers slightly with some spit before his hand went straight to stroke your slit. You moaned into his neck, as you kept your knees raised at his sides to allow him access.
'So wet already' he teased, making you groan and hump his hand more.
'You made me go out in the cold and interrupt a good movie. Now get to work, Christoper.' you complained, erupting a chuckle from him.
'Okay, okay.' he surrendered, I'll warm you back up real quick, baby girl' at that point he lined up his hard cock with your pussy, gathering some wetness before helping you sink down on him. You both moaned deeply, mumbling some curses.
'Fuck, Channie...so big' he hummed while kissing your neck as his hands supported the back and forth movement of your hips. You started kissing as your hips kept on going faster, then slower again, then going in circles.
After a while though, Chan seemed to notice you trying to get more stimulation to your slit, so he decided to take matter in his own hands.
'Wait, baby, hold on' he interrupted the kiss and grabbed the hem of your dress, taking it off of you and throwing it on the carpet nearby. The fact that you weren't wearing a bra was a pleseant surprise.
'No bra? Naughty girl' he smirked, making you laugh faintly. He attached his mouth to one of your nipples, sucking and licking, while he played with the other with his pointer and thumb.
'Ah-' you moaned as he grazed the nipple with his teeth lightly, 'Wait, you too' you said, this time being you to take his hoodie off. In the meantime your pussy kept grinding on his dick, a bit more lazily since your knees were kinda starting to ache a bit.
Chan seemed to remember what he wanted to do before getting distracted by your tits, so he stopped once again 'Turn around baby. Want to touch you properly' he said sweetly as he helped you change positions.
You were now sitting with your back pressed to his chest, one of his hands grabbing your breast and the other working on your clit. He was making you feel so good that your mind was starting to get a little fuzzy, your hips grinding on his cock and his fingers mindlessly.
'Yeah, just like that. So good for me, baby' he whispered into your ear, his nose pressed to the side of your head, 'Such a good fuckig girl for me' he kissed your hair, your head, your neck.
'C-Chan, baby, m' close' you whined, one of your hands covering his one on your breast, while the other was between his hair desperately holding on for dear life.
'I know baby, I know' he sped up, pounding you so quick and deep that you were seeing stars, 'Come for me, c'mon. So beautiful' he groaned.
'My beautiful, patient, amazing girl' his fingers applying some more pressure, 'Really don't deserve you' the last phrase so quiet that your fucked out mind almost didn't catch it. Almost.
'C-chan, oh my god' your back arched, moaning out his name as you came. His rythm gradually slowed down, but his thrusts were still sharp and deep.
'Come inside me, baby. Wanna feel you, need to feel you, please' you pleaded, grabbing his jaw to kiss him. He moaned into your mouth, and after a few more sharp thrusts, you felt him coming inside you.
'Yes, that's it, so good' you cooed, giving little kisses on his mouth 'Love you so much' you whispered. He smiled slightly in the kiss, hugging you tight. You moved around, getting more comfortable but still hugging each other tight and cuddling. You were left in a comfortable silence for a while.
'I heard that, you know.' you said softly, his gaze pointing down at you as his fingers still delicately caressed your arm.
'What do you mean?' he asked. You didn't look at him, concentrating on playing with his hands.
'You know exactly what I mean. Stop saying that. I mean it. I love you, and I know that you love me. There must be a reason why we're together and we work. So stop getting into your own head' your eyes locking with his. 'Promise?'
He chewed on his plump lip, definitely feeling guilty that he got scolded yet again. Naked, on his bedroom chair, after some mind blowing sex and a whole lot of feelings. In the end he sighed, nodding and planting a longing kiss on your head.
'Good. Now get me a blanket or something, I'm fucking freezing.' he laughed, bumping his head gently to yours jokingly. Then he helped you get off him and opened one of the closet's drawers and grabbed a fuzzy blanket.
'Wait for me a second, I'll get something to clean up.' he told you as he quickly put his hoodie and pants back on. You nodded as he exited the bedroom. Wrapped up in the blanket, you searched for your phone in your bag. When you found it you quickly dialed Hyunjin's number, who picked up after just a couple of rings.
'Hello?' you could hear some noise in the background, so you assumed that they were maybe in a bar or something.
'Everything's fine.' you said, sitting down to wait for Chan to come back.
'Oh, I'm glad. I knew you would make him reason' just as he said that, you clearly heard Jisung yelling 'Are you done fucking or what' with some laugh erupting.
'Oh my Gosh' you replied, embarassed while you pinched the bridge of your nose with your fingers.
'Shit! Yn, I'm so sorry about that. This motherfucker is just jealous you're getting some' he chuckled, as you heard Jisung saying something along the lines of 'Fuck you'.
'Hyunjin!' you scolded him, not being able to not laugh. They laughed.
'Sorry, sorry. We'll be back in an hour or so, bye!' and he hung up.
'You know, I would've betted on Jisung, because he's a nosy fucker.' you got startled by Chan's voice. He closed the door behind him again and scrunched down in front of you, gently helping you clean up with a warm damp towel.
'But he only talks behind people's back. Should've known it was Hyune.' he sighed. You smiled, messing with his hair.
'C'mon. You should be thankful. You started off wanting to punch a hole in the wall and now look at you'. you teased. He smirked, getting up and discarding the towel in the dirty clothes basket.
'Yeah, the power of pussy I guess' your mouth went slack, as you threw at him your previously discarded panties. He caught them, laughing hard at your outraged reaction.
'Oh so that's what I am to you, uh? Good to know, Christopher' you feigned annoyance and dramatically crossed your legs, looking away from him.
'I'm sorry, I'm sorry' he laughed, coming close to grab your had in between his hands and kissing you. 'You know It's not true. Well, not only-' you gasped in shock again as he threw his head back laughing.
'You little-'
♡︎.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
That's it folks! I know it was quite a rollercoaster, but hopefully decent nonetheless. Until next time <3
2K notes · View notes
garbinge · 4 months ago
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Cowboy and Pony
Tyler Owens x F!Reader
Summary: Tyler comes home with the crew after a chase and after a unpleasant run in with your ex. Word Count 4.5k Warnings: Light angst, mentions of parental death, really bad science and tech explanations for the sake of plot lol, anxiety, talk of trauma/guilt/grief, fear of leaving home, kissing and i guess PG-13 sexual situations (not really but like blink and you miss it type stuff). A/N: I saw Twisters last night and cannot get Tyler Owens out of my brain. Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @kmc1989
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You knew Tyler practically your whole life. He was the boy next door, but that quickly turned into your friend next door. Throughout all of his crazy life adventures, bull riding, studying meteorology, chasing storms, you were there. Except while he was trying out a million things, you were doing one. Tinkering with shit. Some people probably would have called you a mechanic, but you hated it. Because you didn’t just stop at cars, you were the person that would dig through the garbage to find trashed parts and build a computer out of it. That’s actually when Tyler talked to you for the first time, he stood back watching you pick through his trash just to get a circuit board from an old computer. You just liked to build stuff, you learned how to solder, how to rewire shit, the whole nine yards. 
Tyler wasn’t just your neighbor growing up, he was a friend. One of the best of ‘em. It’s why when he switched up to tornado chaser and asked you to join his crew there was no hesitation in your decision. You also managed to find a boyfriend, two of them actually, a jerk off one, that only lasted a few months and then the one you currently had, who was in front of your face this entire time. 
You were nose deep into some project as you heard the bark from Pony, the rescued Great Dane who you spent most of your days with. It was a miracle you didn’t hear the loud speakers of the truck you knew pulled into the driveway, but then you realized they had probably been broken off or mangled to the point of repair. 
“He-hey Pony, who's a good girl.” His voice was muffled, he had to have been a few feet out from the barn, which meant he was keeping the truck a good distance away from you on purpose. 
Sliding the barn doors open, your eyes first fell on him. Your number one concern always being him. But when you saw that damn handsome smug face on him, looking up at you with the most apologetic smile as Pony licked his face, your eyes jumped to the truck. They were jumping just as soon as they were closing shut. 
The exoskeleton of welded steel had been crushed on one side, which honestly was the least of your problems. The weather station atop had been missing complete pieces versus just a couple dings and scratches. The roof rack lights were broken and the trailer hitch was bent in an unusable position. But the firework launcher was in perfect condition still, of course. 
“I fixed what I could on site.” You heard the statement through gritted teeth as Tyler stared at you knowingly. 
“Oh. There was more.” You opened your eyes and saw him with an expression that could only be described as yikes as he nodded and stood up, Pony attaching to his side instantly. 
“Yeaaaaa.” He was still gritting his teeth as he walked towards you with open arms, knowing he was going to work his way back into your graces. His arms were around you in seconds, and his lips on yours moments later. Reaching to the top of your head, you removed the soldering headband that was resting on the top of your head like a simple pair of sunglasses although was 5x the size. Tyler instinctively grabbed it from you, and moved his hand right back to your lower back while you let your hands cup his face. “I’m sorry.” It was whispered as he pulled from the kiss to rest his forehead on yours. 
You looked up at him and noticed the smallest scratch on his face and wiped your thumb along it in hopes that it was just dirt but when the mark stayed and you felt the rigidness from the skin starting to heal already, you knew it wasn’t. “You know all that shit I build for you is so this doesn’t happen, right?” 
He let out a laugh, and you felt his body vibrate against yours as he did. “It’s barely the size of a papercut, and I, uh, recall you using your wiring tools to stitch up my head one from bull riding so I’d say it’s not too comparable.” His hands were now reaching up to your face to place a swift kiss on your forehead in an attempt to ease you. 
“I don’t compare, I just find a way to make things better. So now you need to tell me what happened to make this happen.” Your hands had moved against his chest. 
“One of Storm Par’s guys didn’t tie down their gear right and it nicked Tyler.” Lilly was walking right by you both into the barn to drop her drone for its own repairs. 
That made your entire mood change. “I’m sorry, what?” Your head jumping from Lilly to Tyler who was smiling with his mouth open readying an excuse.
“It was one of the new guys, didn’t know his ass from the tornado.” This was him trying to simmer the situation with humor.  
“Yea and when you told him that, that David guy got all up in our pretty boy’s face!” Boone was also entering the barn, following shortly behind Lilly with the drone eyes and controller. 
“I’m sorry, what?” That’s when your body got more tense and Tyler did everything to try and shake it off you. 
David. The jerk off ex-boyfriend. 
“Which ones David?” Dani was calling out from the RV, her hat crooked as she hung from the passenger door handle. It was obvious she was probably busy when the situation occurred. 
“The jerk-off one!” You and Tyler both called out at the same time. It earned him a smile, you could always count on being in sync with him. Surrendering from your tension you raised your arms up again to his neck, just below his jawline. 
“What’d he do?” 
“Ah, you know, storm up in my face.” The irony of his statement wasn’t lost on you, it’s why you rolled your eyes which made him explain further. “You know, just said some stupid shit, Boone’s probably got it on video, probably really drive up our views.” 
You didn’t give a fuck about views or watching the footage right now, you wanted to hear it from him what happened. And he read that off you immediately. “He just got mad. I mouthed off to someone in his crew, he said some shit to me and I just brushed him off.” 
Looking over to Lilly and Boone, you were looking at them for the real answer. “I didn’t realize we were calling, pushing the guy to the ground, brushing him off.” Lilly was smirking as she was looking around at the pieces of the drone that were needing repairs. 
“Let me see the video.” You were pushing off Tyler, who was leaning in trying to get you back in his embrace until he dropped his head in defeat. 
Boone was eager to show you the footage he caught, ditching the drone and coming to your workstation to set up his camera for you to watch. 
“Watch your mouth, Tornado Wrangler. One of my guys is worth all of yours combined.” A typical thing to come from David’s mouth. The MIT degree he held must’ve come with a minor in selfish pretentious douchebag. 
You saw how Tyler’s tongue swiped against his bottom lip inside his mouth as he looked out past David, considering he had a few inches of height on him. “See that’s the difference between me and you, Storm Par, we value things a little differently.” 
It was immediately apparent that Tyler was referring to you. Yes, he valued his team way more than David his, but Tyler knew what he was doing when he said it. David put a lot of things before you when you were dating, and the straw that broke the camel's back was when he didn’t show up to the hospital when you found out your mother was sick. This was before Storm Par and Tornado Wranglers though, this was when David was just working tracking storms in the area for his college internship and Tyler was just starting to get over taming bulls and more into taming twisters. 
When David joined Storm Par, you were already with Tyler for about a year, so it was much to his surprise when he saw you at one of the many motels on the storm trail in Oklahoma not only on top of the red dodge RAM truck fixing something, but also on top of Tyler at the little bonfire gathering in the field adjacent to the motel later that same night. 
But it wouldn’t have mattered if you were together with Tyler or not. The two never got along, when he first met David from when they both started chasing the same storms, there was always something in the air. 
“Yea, we do. Extremely difficult and exhausting emotional baggage weren’t high on my must-haves when I was looking for a girlfriend.” It was the exact words he used when you broke up with him. Correct, you broke up with him, and he hit you with the yea this isn’t working, you’re extremely difficult and the emotional baggage is beginning to exhaust me line. The extremely difficult line was probably in reference to not wanting to build machines for him to use to track the weather, modeling equipment, etc. And the exhausting emotional baggage was the whole your mother being sick thing. He clearly was still using the statement which meant he thought it was effective. And it was. At getting pushed to the ground. 
After the words left his mouth, Tyler’s hands were on David’s collar bones and shoving him with such little effort but enough to get him to stumble to the ground. Tyler smirked, a fully sarcastic look as he shrugged his shoulders and lifted his hands. Very that’s what you get of him. “Told you not to talk about her, Storm Par.” 
“You told me not to say her name.” David was annoyingly dusting off his shirt, knowing that physically he couldn’t take Tyler even on his best day. The secret was, you knew he couldn’t outsmart him even on his worst day either. 
“Hm.” Tyler was taking a couple steps closer now, really towering over him now, blocking any sun from David's vision as he stood tall looking down at him. “Well let’s just add it to the list, huh?” Just as Tyler was about to step away, the smirk on his face went from sarcastic to a full blown smile as he grabbed the ‘not my first tornadeo’ t-shirt that was on Boone’s shoulder and tossed it down to him. “Here, something to change into, you got a little dirt.” He pointed to his own torso when he said it.
That’s when the camera flipped to Boone raising his eyebrows, “you mess with the bull you get the horns!” His fingers raised to his forehead where his pointer and pinky finger were extended in the rocker sign and his teeth gritted to imitate a bull. 
“Classy.” You looked up to see Tyler still in the same spot, at the entrance of the barn leaning against the door frame, arms crossed. “Maybe next time we can get you both knight costumes and we can make it a true fight for my honor.” 
Despite your satire, he knew you weren’t mad. “Next time, huh? That mean you comin’ on the next chase with us?” 
That was the question. It was so much the question, that everyone was looking at you now. Lilly, Boone, Dani, and Dexter. After your mother got really sick, it was hard for you to leave the house, when you needed time for yourself, you’d come to the garage barn and work, that way when she needed you you weren’t too far. When she passed, you were away, on a chase which held enough guilt to basically move you into your barn. The house was merely a place for you to eat, sleep, and shower. And have sex with Tyler, although the barn had seen its fair share of that as well. Now, you had explained it as a habit–preference even, you preferred staying home, it was habitual. But everyone really knew… it was that emotional baggage. 
Even though he was mentioning it now, you knew there was never any pressure to go. You used to go. But ever since you got that call from the nurse’s aid that your mother had passed in her sleep while you were 75 miles away, it was hard to pull yourself from here. 
“Let me bring the truck in here.” Avoidance.
The keys were being dangled from Tyler’s fingers before you could say another word. As you jumped into the driver’s seat of the truck, you looked down to see a note on the odometer with your name on it. 
She got a little more mangled than expected. But can’t wait to tell you about the chase. Give you a little sneak preview, twins, changing wind shear and a surprise. Did what I could on site to fix the ol girl but no one’s as brilliant as you, especially with the vehicle sonar. You probably didn’t notice the vehicle sonar was broken. I’m sorry, did I say that? I don’t think I said that. I love you, I’ll say that too, in hopes that it’s enough for you to forgive the state of the truck, and if not, I brought back barbecue to win your love back. 
These were your favorite; they made you feel included, like you were there. And Tyler knew that. Tucking the note into your jacket pocket, you pulled into the garage barn and got to work. About an hour in was when you were interrupted by the smell of barbecue and Tyler attached to the plate. 
“Winning back my love?” You called out with a smile, your legs extended out on the roof of the truck as you installed the new-old weather station to it. 
He placed the plate next to you, barely needing to reach up to get it that high and jumped into the bed of the truck. “And if not yours then Pony’s.” He was picking a piece of chicken off the plate and tossing it to the Great Dane who was nestled in the corner of the truck bed. “You get my note?” He was standing in the bed now, leaning against the back of the truck cap, his arms crossed on the roof as he watched you work. 
“Of course I did. You gonna tell me about,” You pulled the wrench away and looked in his direction while trying to remember the keywords he gave you from the chase. “Twins, and the shifting shear.” 
“Don’t forget the surprise.” He was picking up the fork from the plate and waving it as he spoke. “Yea, so we caught twins, although they didn’t look like twins, one was thin, small radius, the other was growing, kickin’ up a lot of dirt.” 
“Which one did you follow?” Despite not being much into meteorology, Tyler talked enough about it for you to learn a lot, and even though you hadn’t been on a chase in while, you knew the ins and outs pretty well still. 
“The wrong one.” Now he was pushing the fork in your direction, knowing you wouldn’t stop what you were doing long enough to relax and eat. 
“The shifting shear.” You mhmed in acknowledgement to the word in his letter about the wind change and also as the taste of your favorite Oklahoma barbeque spot filled your taste buds. 
“Yep.” He nodded, “We lost it and Storm Par didn’t.” 
“Before or after your run in with David.” 
“Before.” 
“Then, Tyler Owens, I think you still came out on top.” You said it while still looking at the plate, about to grab more food but the interruption of Tyler’s arms pushing him up on the truck roof, his boot stepping up on the fixed exoskeleton to boost him up so he was on top of you. 
“You’re damn right.” He was leaning his face dangerously close, as if his body atop of yours wasn’t dangerous enough. The slightest touch of his lips met yours and any thought of barbecue and fixing weather stations was out of your brain, in fact any thoughts at all were gone from your head aside from the many thoughts of Tyler caressing you.  “I missed you.” That was until he said that. 
He meant well, and you missed him too, but it just reminded you of not being there. Tyler picked up on your change in mood immediately, his left arm pressed against the metal of the car so he wasn’t as on top of you anymore, his face twisted in concern as his eyebrows raised in a way to ask you what happened but as you thought about how you wanted to explain he got it without you needing to share a word. “Fuck.” Dropping his head and the confused concern, his head fell on your shoulder. “I didn’t mean it that way. Even earlier today, I just–” 
“Miss me. I get it.” Your hand fell on his head, your fingers getting tangled in his blonde locks, your mouth moving to pepper kisses on his head as well. “I missed you too, for the record.” You mumbled it against his head. 
He moved off you and fell next to you, his hand cupping your head as he placed a kiss to your forehead as he moved. “There’s never any pressure. At your own pace.” 
“Says the guy who faces his fears by riding them. If I was anyone else, you’d laugh and scream cowboy obscenities as you walked away from me.” 
That caused Tyler to laugh out loud, his body vibrating against yours as his laughs fell in the crook of your neck. “You’re not scared.” 
“I’m scarred.” Making jokes was the only way you felt comfortable really talking about it. 
“And for the record, you’re you, not anyone else, so yes I treat you differently.” He left a kiss in the crook of your neck as he left it. “And what are cowboy obscenities?” 
You cleared your throat and began hollering typical midwestern slang and finished it off with the Tyler Owens tagline. “Woooohooo, if you feel it chase it!” 
There was his laugh again, buzzing against your body, making you miss him even when he was right damn next to you. 
Things quieted down for a bit and the two of you sat up and finished off the plate of barbeque on the picnic table you turned the roof of the red dodge into. “So, I was thinkin’ you know how you have the buttons in the truck to release the rockets and drill in and all that.” You spoke like you weren’t the one that helped him install all of those gadgets. 
“Mhm.” He smiled thinking the same thing, his arm propped up on his folded leg. 
“Well, Storm Par they have those data trackers, the things they gotta get out of the car and place down around the vortex.” You explained. 
“Think it’s the PAR in Storm Par.” Tyler teased.
“Exactly, Phased Array Radar. And I know we have the drone, which is great but what if we could have both? Footage and data.” Before Tyler could answer you were jumping back down to your work station and moving some things around to pull out a mechanism you had been working on before the group arrived back. 
Tyler was following behind you, not as quickly paced but still intrigued. “Okay so this we could install in your truck and attach it to this.” You were now showing a large panel that had hydraulics on it. “And basically, you press this and the truck bed flap will open and this will move out, dropping whatever you want out, you guys won't have to leave the car.” 
Tyler nodded as he took it all in, impressed, as always. “Pretty sure the handsome fellas at Storm Par use 3 of those bad boy radars though. Don’t think we could get the RV that close to a twister.” 
“I’d build you a data catcher where you’d only need one.” Already having the answer to his question you folded your arms and smirked. You had the mechanism to release it pretty much done, now you just had to build the radar, no biggie. 
“How?” He copied your pose, arms crossed, leaning more on one leg than the other, although his eyebrows were frowned while yours were raised. 
“Because you just have to drop it in the vortex.” Now his eyebrows raised and before he could ask his one more follow up question, you were answering it for him. “And I’m planning on building one that shifts its panel, so even when the twister passes, you can still track it for up to 5 miles. Dorothy reimagined.” You were referring to the hundreds of sensors people would generally have zipped up into a tornado to radio back data. 
“We’d have information on the twister way quicker.” Tyler’s brain was starting to wrap around this idea. 
“It’s not perfect, it’s not going to change much but–”
“It’s a way to get more information faster, that’s pretty big.” He stopped you from doubting the idea. “And keeps us from needing to race against the twister outside the truck. 
“I’m nothing if not concerned for your safety.” You pointed at him with the large switch in your hand while he walked over to start helping you piece some more things together. The two of you fell into a silent groove, working on the idea you had just shared with him, rewiring things and going over different equations to best prepare the data capture radar. As time passed, Tyler looked over at you from across the workstation and spoke up. 
“You know, I get why you can’t come out. I know prolly better than anyone how much your mom meant to you, what seeing her get sick did to you.” 
Shifting your focus from the lamp lit table covered in wires in front of you, you looked up at him. His eyes were staring at you, softly, it was something he seemed to want to share for a while and was just waiting for the right moment. And he was right, Tyler did know. It was the perk of growing up with him as your neighbor, he just knew things because he was there. Not only did he know, but he experienced them with you. He’d come by for dinner, bring you any piece of tech or electronics him or his aunt didn’t use anymore. When you popped your bicycle tire riding home from school, he picked you up in his aunt’s truck even though he didn’t have a license. On those weekend trips you’d so often take with your mom, he’d come by and check in on the barn, on your family pets. When she was sick and 90% of your time was spent making sure she was okay, he was making sure you were okay. And when your mom passed, he was the one who drove you the 75 miles back home in the same red pickup truck when one of the most historical twisters touched down. 
It was memories and thoughts like those that always made you wonder what took you so long to realize you were in love with Tyler Owens. He’d love to tell everyone now that he knew from the moment he saw you picking through trash that he loved you. That when you were rushing down the high school hallway with some contraption you made explaining to him that you made it to help him with the focusing issue he had casually brought up to you was when he realized he could never lose you. This person who knew neither of them had the money for noise cancellation headphones and just decided to make them herself with a playlist of his favorite songs in one night to help him focus? You cared about him. And he could never lose that. Which is why he could never tell you that he was in love with you. He watched you date losers, even went on his own dates too sometimes to see if he could get over the feeling. The only thing comparable was bull riding. Or storm chasing. And with that came you, because as much as you didn’t realize you loved Tyler, you knew you loved being around him. 
“We can start slow if you want to get out, maybe we can go away for the weekend, go to that town you and your mom used to drive out to in Texas, Sun Valley, right?” 
It was honestly the perfect idea. Getting out and doing something that reminded you of your mom. “Yea that’s a good idea.” 
He sensed the hesitancy in your voice though and changed the topic quickly. “Never asked me what the surprise was.” 
“What’s the surprise?” It was spoken in a mockery tone, you knew he’d get around to telling you. 
“Be right back.” He was eagerly standing up from the table and lightly jogging down the driveway into the RV where Dani and Dexter were probably working on making sense of the data they had already captured. 
As Tyler came back into the barn, Pony whined and tilted his head as the scent of what Tyler was carrying entered the barn. He had a young dog in his hands, although the dog was big enough to likely not be a puppy but you could tell from his face, he still had a few more young months ahead. It was a real dog and pony show, literally. 
“Found him in the aftermath rubble, pretty sure his owners didn’t make it because no one claimed him.” The heaviness of his statement hit you as you stepped out and made your way towards both Tyler and the dog.  “Didn’t have a nametag on ‘em.”  
“Cowboy.” You grabbed the dog from Tyler’s hands, giving him his name, and scratched him behind his ears before putting him down on the ground to meet Pony. 
As you looked at both dogs, now curiously sniffing and playing together in your workshop barn, Tyler tossed his arm around your shoulders and kissed your head. “Pony and Cowboy.” He nodded. 
“You bring him home because you don’t think Pony has it in her to protect me all by herself?” 
“Somethin’ like that.” He smirked. “Plus now, you got an excuse to stay home more. You got a puppy to raise.”
956 notes · View notes
borathae · 5 months ago
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Man of the Hour
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“You love your best friends, which means that Jungkook will do anything in his powers to make sure that they are safe.”
Pairing: CEO!Jungkook x f.Reader
Genre: married life!AU, Comfort
Warnings: protective!Jungkook, one of OC's friends needs help and he is there for her, sexual harassment, he's the best hubby ever, mentions of sexwork, tears, he's quite frankly The Man
Wordcount: 1.9k
a/n: the header fucking ruins me. he is so handsome ngngn. also, i saw a tiktok about a woman's husband helping her bestie move out of her abusive ex's place and went "you know what? aaol!Kook would always be there for OC's besties" so i wanted to write something about it 🤍
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Six fourty two. Jungkook has a little over an hour left until he can finally go home. He doesn’t know that yet because he is currently lost in his work. He has concepts to write and contracts to go through. Jungkook has a very thorough and good team of lawyers which go through anything law related, but Jungkook still likes to check for himself. In his field of work, it is best to trust himself and only himself.
You are already at home, promising him dinner. His favourite. He can’t wait to get home to you. He will give you the tightest hug imaginable and then follow it up with a smooch to your face and lots of promises of his eternal love.
His phone rings. 
Jungkook looks at his smart watch, furrowing his brows in confusion. This is a caller he hadn’t expected to call. He picks up with a funny feeling in his stomach.
“Noona?”
“Jungkook, thank fuck you picked up. I didn’t know who else to call, I need your help.”
At that his ears perk up. The distress is obvious in her voice.
“What happened? Are you okay?”
Loud club music plays in the background. Distorted voices are filling the chaos as well.
“No. I’m at Saturn and there are men who want to hurt me. T-they keep talking about taking turns on, on me.”
Jungkook straightens up in his chair.
“Are you safe right now?”
“I locked myself in the bathroom.” Loud banging. “Jungkook, can you please come and get me? They’re banging on the door. I’m scared.”
“I’m coming. Don’t go anywhere. I promise, I’m coming.”
“Thank you. Thank you so much.”
The phone call ends.
“Noona? Wheein noona?” Jungkook tries, ‘goddamn it, I’m coming.”
He leaves his office quickly, typing in your number to let you know what was happening.
“Bunny, hey there”, you sound happy about his call. “Are you coming home earlier?”
“Wheein noona is in danger.”
“What!?”
“She just called me that she is at Saturn and some assholes are trying to hurt her. She’s in the bathroom, safe for now, but I’m gonna get her.”
“Holy fuck, Kook. Please get her, please. I’m gonna call her right away.”
“Do that. See you later, love.”
“See you.”
The phone call ends. Jungkook gets into his car moments later, driving off as quickly as the law allows. He won’t let Wheein wait. He won’t let any of your friends wait. 
They lovingly call him their adoptive man of the hour sometimes because he will always be there for them if one of them needs male support. Be it something as innocent as moving furniture too heavy or hanging up curtains on a window too high, Jungkook will be there to help as best as possible. The same counts for the heavy stuff. Like rescuing Wheein from a dangerous situation because some men see a sex worker and think they have free range to do anything to her. Or stuff like letting Byulyi crash in his guest bedroom for a few weeks because her ex boyfriend turned out to be a piece of shit abuser and she needed to escape the situation. He even helped her move all her stuff, taking his biggest car so she wouldn’t have to go back to the place more than once. 
Jungkook cares and he cares honestly. Which is why he is officially the adoptive man of the hour for your girls. 
Tonight is no different. Jungkook hurries to the club bathroom as quickly as possible, pushing strangers aside with little care about how rude he might seem. Manners don’t count when one of his friends is in danger. 
The men aren’t in front of the bathroom anymore, but that doesn’t calm Jungkook down. They could still be hiding somewhere, waiting for a moment to jump Wheein if she ever comes out. 
He knocks on the door, calling out Wheein’s name.
“It’s me. Jungkook. The air’s clear, I promise.” 
Seconds later the door unlocks. Her face is messy because she cried off her makeup.
“Noona, hey there.” Jungkook steps closer, resting his hands on the doorframe so she was shielded from prying eyes and therefore safe. “I came as quickly as I could. How are you?”
“I’m sorry for calling. I didn’t know who else to call. You’re the only man I can trust.”
“Don’t apologise, noona. I’m just glad that you’re okay. Should we go home?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’d really like that.”
“Our place or yours?”
“Can I s-stay at your place for a while?” she stutters, looking smaller than normally. Anxiety is definitely shrinking her.
“Of course, you can.” Jungkook assures her and looks over his shoulder. A few men are looking at him. Is that them? He sends them a deathly glare, then looks back at Wheein with soft eyes. “Is it okay for me to put my arm around you? So I can keep you safe?”
“Yeah, please. I’m sorry, I know that’s a lot to ask.”
“Don’t worry. It’s to keep you safe. You can hide away in my side if you need to. I’ll make sure nothing happens.”
“Thank you so much”, she barely gets out and seeks safety in his arms, knowing that she won’t be hurt anymore. And Jungkook takes pride in knowing that he can help her leave this shady place unharmed. He won’t ever let any of your friends get hurt. He will protect them just as much as he will protect you. They are his girls because they are your girls. And Jungkook fights for his girls.
The strange men inch closer like hyenas. So Jungkook’s gist was correct.
“Where are you taking her? We were here first”, one of them tries to fight him, while the others gawk lustfully. Like fucking starving animals. Disgusting.
“I’m gonna punch in your face if you keep talking”, Jungkook spits and leads Wheein past them without giving them any more attention.
“Hey!”
“Come back!”
They call after them.
“Don’t listen to them, noona. I’m here now”, Jungkook assures her and pulls her closer, “fuck, should I get back there and get their names? I’ll tell my lawyers to take care of them.”
“No please just, please just take me away”, she pleads because she is too scared to stay in this situation any longer. Jungkook respects her decision even if he really wants to punish them.
“Alright, I will. Don’t worry”, Jungkook promises, leading her safely out of the club and to his car.
He helps her inside and rounds the car, looking at the club one last time. The animals which call themselves men are lingering by the entrance, sending deathly glances Jungkook’s way.
“Fucking vermin”, he presses out and gets inside his car. He locks the doors and starts the engine. “I’ve got water in the door compartment if you need it.”
“Thank you”, Wheein whispers and relaxes in the seat just as Jungkook finally takes her away from the scary situation.
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You are in the parking garage, dressed in slippers and your loungewear and looking beyond worried, when they finally arrive at home. You run to Wheein the moment the car pulls in, calling out to her.
“Unnie! Oh god, I was so worried!” you hug her tightly. So tightly in fact that her brittle composure finally breaks and she cries into your shoulder. 
“I was so scared. So, so scared.”
“I’m sorry, unnie. Oh god this is awful, I’m sorry. Let’s go upstairs, I made tea.”
“Thank you. You have no idea how much I need this tonight.”
“Unnie, of course. You can crash here if you want to.”
“I think I do.”
“You can stay as long as you need. What happened? Do you wanna tell me? Oh god, unnie I’m so glad that you’re okay.”
“I was so scared. One of them recognised me from Paradis and, and then he and his friends tried to get me to fuck them and when I said no they followed me to-” She hides away in your arms. “I can’t.”
“It’s okay unnie, it’s okay. Just cry in my arms, I’m here.”
Jungkook lets you and Wheein talk, while he stands next to you and listens, rubbing your lower back soothingly. Wheein cries the entire elevator ride, telling you all about what happened while you curse at the men. Jungkook wanted to curse as well. He hates most of his fellow men a lot. He bears witness to how most act and think and talk when there are no women present. If Jungkook saved up each time one of his business partners made a misogynistic “joke” about their wives or women in general, he would be able to buy a house within six months. If he saved up each time he has one of them confesses how they are cheating on said wives followed by a “huh? As a man you should understand me” when Jungkook voices his distaste for such behaviour, he could buy a new sports car within seven months. Jungkook loathes most of his fellow men and how they carry their hatred for half of humanity with fucking pride. 
Wheein eats dinner with you, after taking a shower and borrowing some of your clothes. You sit by her side, holding her hand as she keeps repeating the story over and over again to work through it. Neither you nor Jungkook mind that she keeps repeating herself. Sometimes one just needs to keep talking about the same stuff over and over again until it finally stops hurting.
After dinner, you and Jungkook don’t really get to talk a lot because somehow the situation was so shocking that you both forgot to function until Wheein was truly safe in her bed. 
Jungkook is still in his suit, cleaning the kitchen after loading the dishwasher, when you return from the bathroom. He shrugged off his jacket and tie, but kept his waistcoat on. The main lights are off, only the stand lights in the living room are turned on and the light above the stove. Jungkook likes working in darkness because it is easier on his eyes. They get sensitive after a long day at the office.
You come up behind him, sneaking your arms around him so your hands were resting on his pecs innocently. Jungkook places the towel aside and leans back into your hug, caressing your lower arms.
“Thank you”, you whisper.
“Mhm”, he hums, closing his eyes. 
“Thank you so fucking much.”
He hums again. You turn him to you, holding his hands and pressing them against his chest. He looks at you, waiting for you to speak. The gratitude in your eyes is almost consuming them whole.
“You have no idea how much I appreciate what you did for Wheein today. What you keep doing for all of them.”
“They’re your best friends, which means I gotta be there for them. No, I want to be there for them.”
“You and I both know that not many think this way. Seriously, thank you so fucking much.”
He smiles, discarding you with a shake of his head.
“I’m just glad that noona is safe.”
“Me too. Fuck, me too”, you say, sagging your shoulders. You look up at him, pouting sadly to the point where your lower lip trembles. “I think I need a hug.”
“Come here.” Jungkook hugs you, rubbing the back of your head. “She’s safe now. I promise.”
“I’m so glad.”
“Me too.” Jungkook hugs you tighter when he hears you sniffle. “Let it out if you need to. I’m here for you.”
You melt into him, feeling safe. He is truly the man of the hour. Your gentle, good hearted man of the hour. 
648 notes · View notes
soullumii · 2 years ago
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stranded | joel miller x f!reader
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pairing: joel miller x afab!fem!reader
summary: you get stranded in the middle of a blizzard. joel comes to your rescue. you share a bed for warmth. things escalate from there...
warnings/tags: 18+ content, MDNI!, smutttttt yurrrr (vaginal fingering, unprotected piv sex, dubious consent, lil bit of somnophilia, joel is packinggg), no outbreak!joel, modern au, implied age gap, soft!joel, pet names (peach, baby, darlin', sweet girl, sweetheart), lil bit of joel being jelly, cuddling to keep the cold at bay, fluff, NO USE OF Y/N
word count: 7.6k (idk what the fuck happened)
“Damn it!” 
You press down hard on the gas pedal, grimacing when your engine revs but the car doesn’t move an inch.
Your tires skid uselessly over the snow and your headlights reflect into a white wall of nothing—the snowfall so thick you can’t see anything in front of or around you, as if you’re trapped in a snow globe. The road is practically gone from existence.
The only thing you can hear is the wind whistling and the staticky sound of Carrie Underwood’s ‘Jesus Take the Wheel’ going in and out on the radio.
Yeah, you wish he would right about now. 
“Fuuuck,” you whine, eyes stinging with unshed tears. You hit your wheel in frustration, dropping your forehead onto the horn. It honks pityingly. 
Of course, the one time you were actually going out, you had forgotten to check the weather. 
You’re probably going to die out here on this back road through the woods. There’s no one around, not that you can tell, and you’re low on gas. You were going to fill up once you got out of the woods and back into civilization, but the blizzard had other plans.
Your stomach rumbles, crying out for the dinner you had skipped in hopes of having a hearty, post-sex meal with the hook-up you are—or were—on the way to see. Though, that’s certainly not happening, and the snacks you usually had stuffed into the glovebox are gone, your sister having stolen them last week after you dropped her off at school.
(Darn that growing goober!) 
You don’t have anything that might prove useful in this situation besides the long, slim heels on your pumps (which could be used in defense), and the thin peacoat wrapped around your shoulders. You check your phone to see if you can call a towing company, but of course, it has zero bars. 
“Shit, shit, shit,” you whimper, pressing the heel of your palm to your watering eyes. 
“It’s gonna be fine,” you say to yourself, picking your head up and rubbing away the tears in your eyes. You take deep breaths and put the car into park. “You’ll be fine.”
The sudden sound of a knock on your window startles you so bad you yelp, jumping in place as ice cold terror rises up your spine. 
You can hardly see who had knocked, only their gray silhouette in the white blizzard.
The stranger knocks again. 
“You alright in there?” The shadow asks, a hint of a Texan accent curling their vowels. Shit. It’s a man. 
You slowly grab your shoe from your foot, holding it so the heel faces the window, and snow blows into your face as you carefully roll it down an inch or two for precaution, because who knows if it’s a fucking cannibal-axe-murderer who preys on unsuspecting women stranded in the snow. Maybe he does this every year—maybe this is his prime harvesting place and time. 
Your eyes are wide as you peer through the opening warily, heel at the ready. 
He’s close enough now that you can make out a prominent scowl, hard brown eyes, salt and pepper hair…
…wait a minute. You’d recognize that glower anywhere.
“Joel?”
Your lungs suddenly remember how to work again, and you inhale on a shaky breath. The hand holding your shoe drops to your thigh in relief.
His brown eyes narrow. “Peach…? The hell are you doin’ out here?” He asks, and Jesus you forgot about that stupid nickname he gave you. It sends butterflies loose in your stomach. “It’s a goddamn blizzard.” 
You scowl in exasperation, though, at his obvious observation. “Yeah, I think I know that, Joel. What are you doing here?”
“I heard a honk, figured someone needed help.” He looks you up and down, his gaze lingering on the circles of mascara around your eyes. “Guess I’m right.”
You straighten in your seat, the gratitude you feel at his presence is overshadowed by the need to look self sufficient and capable, because you are. You’re a grown ass woman! So…
“I don’t need your help,” you huff.
He arches a brow. “Really.” It’s not a question.
You glower. “Maybe.”
Joel leans an arm on the frame of your car, and taps your window once more. “C’mon. Let’s go.” 
God, this is so embarrassing!
“Fine.�� You roll up the window and turn off the car. Joel tugs the car door open as far as it can go and offers a gloved hand to help you out. You wobble a bit when you step out in your heels, grateful that Joel is there to steady you. Though, the feeling sours a bit when he huffs in disbelief at your shoes. 
You send him a glare, “I had plans for tonight, okay?”
“In the middle of a blizzard?” He deadpans.
“It wasn’t that bad when I first started driving.”
“Riiiight,” he drawls, “Well, I’m sorry to say, peach, but you ain’t driving in this mess anymore. You can stay with me tonight.” He says, closing the car door behind you. 
Stay? With him? 
“Joel, I couldn’t bother you with—“
“I wouldn’t offer if it was a bother.”
Joel’s as stubborn as a bull, more so than Ellie. And she is stubborn. You don’t argue, because it’s fruitless to argue with a brick wall like him. And, faced with freezing to death out here or staying in a well-insulated building, choosing the latter is obviously the right thing to do.
“Okay,” you relent and point to your trunk. “I have a bag back there.”
He raises a brow. “Heels and a bag…What kind of plans were we talkin’ about here?”
A hook up, Joel, you mentally drawl. Because…that’s exactly why you were out. 
Like hell you’ll tell Joel that, though, he’d disapprove. He’s always been the protective type. You’ve known him since your junior year in college, after your families practically merged. But you’ve never seen Joel as another dad. He’s always been…something else to you.
“A trip to Nunya.” You supply instead of the truth, crossing your arms over your chest to try and conserve some heat. 
“Nunya?” Joel’s brows furrow. 
“Yeah. Nunya business, Joel.” You give him a sardonic smile. 
He shakes his head and sends you a look you’re quite familiar with, the one that makes you feel inches smaller. And ten degrees hotter. 
Joel sighs in exasperation and wordlessly wrenches the trunk open. He slings your bag over his shoulder as if it weighs nothing.
(It weighs a lot. You’d know, you shoved five different erotica books in there, just in case your date failed to make you orgasm.)
(Though thinking about Joel probably would’ve been enough.) 
You lock your vehicle with a bemused glance. “What are we gonna do about my car?” 
“I’ll tow it out tomorrow,” Joel says. “Roads are a fuckin’ mess right now.”
You trudge behind Joel to his quaint cottage sleeping cozily between tall pine trees and chubby evergreens. The porch light is on, and the windows glow a comforting orange. Puffs of smoke drift up from the chimney. It looks warm and inviting, like straight out of a Christmas movie. 
You’re impressed at how close you managed to strand yourself to his house. Maybe Jesus really did take the wheel. 
Joel kicks the snow off his boots on his front porch, then opens the door, gesturing for you to enter first. 
When you breach the doorway with Joel at your heels, warmth settles over your cold-bitten cheeks along with an alluring aroma of meat and tomato and spices that hits you in a wave. You’ve never seen Joel cook anything other than Chef Boyardee Beefaroni, or burgers on Tommy’s rusting grill before, so this is certainly a surprise. It could be Sarah or Ellie’s cooking, but last time you checked, Sarah could cook eggs and Ellie could cook, well, nothing.
“So did you hire a personal chef to make whatever smells so good?”
He sets your bag down in the foyer with a grunt and shrugs out of his coat. “I made it.”
You can’t help the disbelieving laugh that bursts out of you, and the slightly offended look on Joel’s face only makes it harder to stop. You cover your mouth with your hand, but you’re absolutely positive he can see the mirth lighting in your eyes.
Though he’s offended, there’s a twitch to his lip, as if he’s trying not to laugh. “I’m perfectly capable of cooking.”
“I’m sorry—I’m sorry,” you try to stamp down your giggles. “Yes, you’re capable but… is it edible?”
Your stomach decides in that moment to start rumbling, and he smirks.
“Guess you’ll have to find out.”
You take your coat off and follow Joel towards the kitchen. As you follow, you take in his aggressively Texan decor and furniture. Paintings of cowboys and horses and mountains are hung artfully on cozy, beige walls. The Eagles’ discography drifts merrily in the air from an old record player. There’s a guitar stationed in practically every corner. It’s all so very Joel, though the random space ornamentals and butterfly drawings sprinkled about are so very Ellie and Sarah. It makes you smile. 
“Where are the girls?” You ask, because usually those little stinkers would be stationed at the dining room table, bickering over the answer to a ridiculously difficult math problem.
“At Dina’s,” he answers, taking off his gloves and dropping them on the table. “They wanted to play in the snow.”
Oh. So you’re here alone with him. Anxiety prickles at the edges of your mind, sinking in your stomach.
“I guess I was the only one that didn’t know about the blizzard, then.” 
“You must be livin’ under a rock to not know about it.”
You grumble in protest, but your grievances disintegrate on your tongue as you enter the kitchen and near the simmering pot. You breathe in the aroma, the smell so powerful it's almost like you’re actually tasting it. 
You look over your shoulder at him. “Is this chili?”
He nods. “Want some?”
“Absolutely.”
He comes up beside you to open a cabinet. “Go ‘head make yourself comfortable on the couch. I’ll bring it out to you.” Your mouth dries at the sliver of skin that peeks out beneath his flannel as he reaches up.
You force yourself to turn around. “Wow. Such a gentleman, didn’t realize you were capable,” you say, your saccharine sweet tone doing well to mask how flustered you feel. You can breathe easier the second you exit the kitchen and enter the living room. 
His voice follows you. “A simple ‘thank you’ ‘stead'a this attitude would do you some good, y'know?"
"I know," you sing-song, grinning as you settle yourself down onto his couch, grabbing a blanket from a basket on the way. A fire crackles in the hearth and you study the flames with fascination as warmth spreads across your skin. You tug the blanket around you, pulling it up to your chin. 
Joel emerges a minute later and your gaze darts from the fire to the bowl he holds out to you. “Here.”
“Thank you, Joel,” you say emphatically, accepting the bowl and cradling it in your hands. 
He smiles, “There we go. Guess you do have some manners.”
You give him a half-bow. Joel just smiles in that familiar way, like you’re just so ridiculous he can’t believe it. It makes your stomach curl giddily. 
Having rolled up the sleeves of his flannel to his elbows, Joel’s forearms are on display, muscles flexing as he tosses another log into the hearth, and you drop your gaze to your chili, as to not get caught staring. He sits down in the armchair adjacent to you with his own bowl.
You blow on the steaming chili before taking a bite, an involuntary moan releasing from you the moment it hits your tongue—paprika, peppers, tomato, cumin. It warms your stomach pleasantly. Who knew Joel could cook so well?
“This is so good,” you mumble around your bite. 
He swallows his own chili down, pupils large as he watches you. “Edible enough for ya?”
You nod enthusiastically, “I’m sorry I ever doubted you.”
“Mmhmm,” he hums, unconvinced, but he’s smiling at you again, and you can’t help but return it. 
Comfortable silence lapses between the both of you as you eat your meals. Joel finishes first, of course, setting his bowl on the coffee table and leaning into his chair with a satisfied groan. He throws an arm over the back, spreading his legs. You watch him while he watches the fire, heat licking through you.
Eventually, after you slow down, you speak again.
“Thank you, Joel, seriously, for letting me stay.”
His eyes find yours and he nods. “‘Course, peach. Wouldn’t’ve let you freeze out there.” 
You nod and glance around, taking in his cabin. A large, stone fireplace is set in the wall, a tree trunk coffee table stationed in the center of the living room, some handmade wood carvings of horses and other animals scattered about. There’s a drawing of himself sitting on the mantel, “To: Joel, From: Ellie” signed at the bottom. Your heart swells. 
“It’s been awhile since I’ve been here,” you remark.
“I know,” Joel says. “You should come around more often. The girls miss you.”
Your smile turns shy and you feel a spike of bravery. “What about you? Do you miss me?” 
He takes a moment to answer, a veiny hand coming up to rub at his beard as he leans on the arm of the chair. Onyx eyes drag down your figure. “‘Course I do, darlin’” 
Heat pools hot and thick between your thighs at that look, and you’re about to press him about how much he really misses you when a buzzing in your pocket captures your attention. Your phone. Guess you have some bars now. 
marcus: where r u?
Oh right, the hookup!
you: blizzard blocked the roads. won’t make it tonight.
marcus: ok. 
You scoff at the lack of depth in his response. Not even a “stay safe out there”? Jesus. You settle into the couch with a frustrated sigh, head thumping against the cushions, eyes falling shut as exhaustion creeps into you. 
Boys always thinking with their dicks. Why do you even bother?
“What’s that about?” Joel asks. You peek an eye open at him. Firelight dances across his tan skin. He gestures to your phone. “That gotta do with the real reason for your trip tonight?” 
You rub your temple, “Yeah.”
He hums. "...Listen, I know it's none of my business but—“ 
"It was a hookup, Joel," you interrupt, already knowing where he was going with that. He tends to do that, beat around the bush so much until you’re desperate to just say it. More desperate than he was to know it. You’d rather just skip that whole process. 
"Oh,” his brows furrow.
"Yeah," you repeat dumbly, fiddling with the blanket.
"There, uh, ain't no shame in that, darlin'."
You quirk a skeptical brow, "I know."
"Alright," he mumbles, avoiding eye contact with you. Awkwardness settles between you.
"Things are just a bit dry," you supply, though you have no idea why you're still talking, or why you described yourself and the state of your love-life like that because Joel doesn't need to know that. Nobody needs to know that
But it captures his attention, because he's looking at you again, though this time annoyance is written on his features, along with something else you can’t name, his eyes practically black. Damnit, you knew he’d disapprove, even if he claims there’s no shame in it.
“And you went to some random boy for that?"
You straighten on the couch. "Who else am I supposed to go to, Joel? You?” Sarcasm drips from your words. 
What the hell is he implying?
His gaze jumps to the fire, the muscles in his jaw clenching, his fingers flexing on the arm of his chair. "Never mind I said anythin'."
Your arms cross defensively over your chest. "I don't need your judgment, Joel.”
"I ain't judgin'."
"Sure sounds like it."
He stands abruptly, running a hand through his peppered locks. "I'm not, I just—listen, it's gettin' late. You should sleep. I didn’t have time to get the girls’ room ready, do you want my bed?”
You shake your head, "Couch is perfectly fine, Joel. Thanks."
“You sure?”
“Yes, Joel. I’m a grown woman who can handle her decisions.” 
"I know that.” Frustration laces his words. He sighs, hand coming up to rest on his belt. “Just... let me know if you need anythin'."
“You got it.”
He turns the living room light off on the way to his bedroom down the hall. You don’t watch him leave. 
Once he's gone, you change into your pajamas and settle yourself on the couch beneath a blanket or two. The crackling of the fire and the howling wind outside lulls you to sleep faster than you expect. 
-----
“Fuck.”
The aggressive shivers that wrack your body are what wake you up in the middle of the night. 
Your blanket is wrapped tightly around you, but it’s a thin, furry thing. Nothing like the down comforter you have at home. The fire has also gone out in the hearth, low flames flickering in the ash.
You pull the blanket up to your chin, curling in on yourself as the cold permeates your skin. 
Aside from the chattering of your teeth and the squall outside, it’s eerily silent in the house. You realize, now, that the whooshes from the heating system you had grown accustomed to before are gone
Shit.
You reach for the lamp on the side table, pulling down on the chain. It doesn’t turn on.
“Shit.” 
You sit up, blanket wrapped around your waist. The power is out. The snow storm must’ve knocked out a power line. It’s too cold to stay out here with only your thin blanket and the clothes on your back. And Joel had said…
Let me know if you need anythin’.
You really don’t want to bother him, but the goose flesh rippling across your skin and the pathetic way your lips are quivering, along with the shudders that wrack your body as it attempts to maintain homeostasis are not something you can just sleep through.
You tightly wrap your blanket around your shoulders and tiptoe down the hall. You can see a warm light from Joel’s bedroom, the flicker of a flame on the cream walls.
You slowly push the door open but hesitate at the sight of Joel buried comfortably beneath his comforter. You don’t want to wake him… but his room is awfully toasty from the fire crackling away in his own hearth. And his bed looks absolutely heavenly. 
You steel yourself and pad to the side he sleeps on. 
“Joel?” You whisper. He doesn’t respond.
You lean over to gently push his shoulder. “Joel.”
“Mm—“ His brows furrow, and he scrunches further into the blankets, reminiscent of a cat curling its paws over its head when woken up.
You push his shoulder again, a bit harder this time. “Joel. Wake up.”
He swats at the air, as if your hand is a fly buzzing around his ear. “‘M awake,” he mumbles against the pillow. 
“Joel—the power went out. I’m freezing.”
He’s silent for a moment, eyes still shut. He’s no doubt rolling the words around in his head, trying to make sense of them through a sleepy haze.  
Then, when he does, he wordlessly scoots back and reaches for the comforter. He lifts it, offering the space next to him to you.
“C’mere.” 
You splutter, taken off guard by the invitation. “What? Joel—“
“‘M not askin’, peach. C’mere.” The last word leaves his lips like a command, and you straighten reflexively, apprehension holding your limbs hostage as want curls dangerously low in your abdomen at his tone of voice. That should be enough warning to not climb into bed with him.
You debate telling him to get his ass up and give you another blanket along with a couple more logs in the hearth so you can avoid any kind of proximity between you (lest you feel those capital-f Feelings), but you can practically feel the heat radiating from the bed and his body beckoning you in. 
Oh fuck it.
You let loose a shaky breath and hesitantly slip beneath the covers, facing away from him. You stay glued to the edge of the bed, careful not to let any part of you touch him. Your legs curl into your chest for extra measure. Immediately, it’s so much better. So warm. So comfortable.
And it smells like Joel.
You inhale the earthy and spicy scent of him that lingers on the linen as your head sinks into the soft pillow, but your inhale chokes off as Joel’s strong arm snakes around your waist beneath the comforter, his large hand burning like a brand when it settles hot over your stomach.
He pulls you into him, the sheets swishing as he tucks you into his body. Your back slots against his warm, broad naked chest. His bare legs intertwine with yours, his pelvis almost flush against your ass, only covered by a thin pair of briefs. 
Holy shit. 
You can feel everything. 
“Joel?” You question, voice quivering at the sudden closeness. “What are you doing?”
“Keepin’ you warm,” he mumbles against the nape of your neck. 
You do feel warmer, though it might not be entirely because he’s holding you, but rather because of how he’s holding you. He’s curled around you, like a koala around a tree, thighs bracketing yours. 
You can feel his beard scraping at the nape of your neck, breaths puffing against your feverish skin. 
His thumb is rubbing softly along the pudge of your tummy, palm branding your skin, his fingers dipping innocently beneath the hem of your shorts. 
You can barely breathe, or even think, heartbeat stuttering as arousal pools liquid hot and heavy between your legs. Every unknowing twitch from Joel’s fingers makes it worse. Every touch of his calloused fingertips against your skin is pure agony. Every brush of your ass against his pelvis has you throbbing. You stare wide-eyed into the darkness, gaze roaming the pitch black, as if something out there could make you forget about the ever-growing desire you feel for Joel. 
You can’t sleep like this.
It seems like Joel can though, appearing to already be deep in slumber. He hasn’t moved in a few minutes, his exhales even and slow against you. 
You try to ignore the wetness between your legs, ignore the instinctual urge to roll your hips back against him. You should just go to sleep. But this ache you feel, pounding and deep and relentless…You have to do something about it, even with Joel holding you close.
He won’t mind…right?
But how are you supposed to touch yourself with Joel’s hand in the way? 
You could just move it. That’s the right thing to do, but it feels too good, so hot and heavy on you that you just don’t want to, and as a result, an idea so absolutely fucked worms its way into your mind, lust and desperation destroying any last semblance of rational thought. You could…
No. No. You can’t do that. He’s a human fucking being, not a hand shaped vibrator. 
But… you really want to, and he’s asleep so…he won’t even know…right?
You make up your mind and slowly curl your fingers around Joel’s deadweight palm, biting your lip in concentration and shame as you carefully urge his hand further into your shorts. After each nudge of his palm, you wait to see if Joel gives you any sign of him being awake. But he’s dead asleep. After a moment, you keep going. 
This is so fucked, but you can’t bring yourself to care when you finally feel his thick fingers brush over your clothed folds.
“Shit,” you whisper, breathlessly, holding back a whimper. You manipulate his hand so that his palm is resting large and warm over your aching clit, while his index and middle finger are placed heavily above your heat. 
And then, you really say fuck you to your morals. 
You give an experimental thrust of your hips into his palm, shuddering at the contact against your clit. Then you wait to see if Joel reacts, your head tilting a bit to look over your shoulder. But Joel hasn’t moved, hasn’t said a word. Good.
Confident he won’t wake, you rock your hips again and again, holding onto his hand with your own, pressing it down with each thrust of your hips to get that sweet contact. The heel of his palm bumps your aching clit with each thrust, and you bite back moans and whimpers well enough, but you can’t hide the deepening of your breaths as you climb closer and closer to your climax.
Everything else fades away as you just focus on that one goal. On crawling over the edge. You hardly feel the growing smirk pressed to the back of your neck, or the way Joel’s cock is now hard against your ass as you grind against his palm.
“F-fuck,” you huff, eyes tightly shut as you ground yourself in his presence behind you, the beat of his heart thudding against your spine, the rise and fall of his chest, the light, unconscious brush of his lips on your neck. Closure is on the horizon as you imagine him lifting up on his arm and leaning over to actually get you off, his teeth biting down on your shoulder as he thrusts his fingers into your aching cunt. 
“Joel—“ you quietly moan. 
The moment his name slips from your lips, his hand suddenly pulls back, and you let out a frustrated groan (he can’t do that!), which quickly turns into a squeak of mortification (oh yes, he absolutely can!).
Because Joel is awake. 
He. Is. Awake.
And he knows what you were doing, his chest rumbling against your spine as he—is he fucking laughing at you?
“Needy girl, aren’t you, peach?”
Mortification ignites in your cheeks, nausea pooling in your stomach. “Joel, oh my god, I’m so sorry—“
His hand gravitates to your thigh, curling around it. He pulls it up, inserting his knee in between your legs and he griiiinds it into your clothed cunt. Your desperate apology is cut off by a reflexive wanton moan, your back arching as pleasure reverberates inside you.
“‘S okay, baby, I understand. So fuckin’ desperate you had to use me while I was sleepin’, huh? Didn’t get what you wanted earlier so now you’re searchin’ for somethin’ else, hm?”
His large hand finds your waist again, sliding down your stomach to inch beneath both your shorts and your panties now. You gasp as his fingertips find your clit easily.
“I’m just a ‘lil offended I wasn’t your first choice,” he chides, fingers slipping through your soaking folds. “But I like this much better than you findin’ some boy to get you off. You need’a be fucked by a man, darlin’. Ain’t that right?” 
His words send heat straight to your core, thighs clenching around his knee as he ruts it against you while simultaneously stimulating your clit with his fingers.
“Yes, Joel,” you moan. “Need you.” 
His teeth scrape against your throat when he growls, “Goddamn right you do.”
You can’t believe this is happening.
Joel slides his hand further into your panties, his middle finger curling in to sink into your soaked cunt. You choke on a gasp. 
“Who’s the guy?” He asks, randomly, while his finger rocks into you.
You can’t think as Joel inserts his ring finger alongside the other, stretching you so deliciously. “W-what?”
“The boy you were gonna see tonight. Who is he?” 
Who was it? Mark? Matt? And why does he care? You don’t know, you don’t care, only thoughts of Joel Joel Joel consume your waking being. 
“I—I don’t know, Joel. Please, oh my god.” 
He hums pityingly. “Poor thing can't even remember his name.” His other hand comes up to slide through your hair, gripping the locks at the nape of your neck. He tugs, and you melt. “I’ll make sure you don’t forget mine.” 
He doesn’t need to worry about that.
Joel moves his thumb to circle your clit as he thrusts his thick, long fingers up and into you, curling them to hit that spot that has your heartbeat dropping between your thighs, desperate and loud and begging for release. 
“Hhhoh— Joel!” 
“Tha’s right, baby. So goddamn wet. You’ve been dealin’ with this for awhile now, huh?”
You nod into the pillow on a broken moan as his fingers withdraw and sink into you at a steady pace, his thumb circling and circling and circling.
“Words, baby.”
You cry out, hands gripping the pillow. “Yes, yes. Joel. Been wanting this f’so long.”
“Should’a come to me first. Would’a helped you out a long time ago,” he drawls.
Yes you absolutely should have, based on how quickly you’re approaching your orgasm.
Your cries are so loud, but you don’t care, focusing only on your pleasure and the feel of Joel’s mouth on your throat. 
You’re finally getting what you want. And fuck, is it amazing.
Your eyes roll back as it all builds up inside you, Joel’s hand unrelenting as he fucks you closer and closer to the edge.
You’re scorching, everything hot and intense, your stomach tightening, your legs stretching out as the pleasure builds and builds.
Fuck, you’re gonna cum—
It rips through you violently, eyes prickling with tears, your thighs clenching as your walls bare down repeatedly around Joel’s fingers, making him groan. 
“Good girl,” Joel murmurs, hand eventually inching out of you and your shorts to squeeze your thigh appreciatively as aftershocks run through you, thighs quaking and clit throbbing. “That’s what you needed, huh? S’it feel good, cummin’ all over my fingers?”
His fucking voice!
“Mhmm,” you hum in agreement, sinking into the sheets, eyes drooping shut as pleasure lulls you to sleep. 
He tsks, “Wake up, darlin’ I ain’t done with you yet.”
His beard scrapes against your neck as he moves to your ear.
“It’s my turn to use you.”
Your eyes shoot open. Fuck. 
Joel pulls your panties down your legs as far as he can, and you squirm to wriggle them off of you.
He pulls away for a moment, but when he’s back, the bare, hot, thick length of him is pressed between your ass cheeks, and a full body shudder runs through you.
Holy shit, he’s big.
He grips your thigh again, but this time he throws it over his own. And then you feel it, the slick head of his cock as he guides it through your folds.
Oh fuck.
“You okay, peach?” He asks, laying a gentle kiss on your shoulder. Now you have tears in your eyes for an entirely different reason. His hand slides across your waist and up beneath the hem of your shirt, palming your breast. Your nipples tighten. 
Your mouth feels dry and you swallow down a lump of lava. “Y-yes, Joel.”
“Good. Wanna give you all of me, how’s that sound, darlin’?”
You will take whatever, anything you can get from Joel.
“Good, Joel. Yes, please, oh my god.”  
“There are those manners.”
A desperate whine slips from your lips as he directs the head of his cock into you, slowly and carefully, his hand running up and down your thigh in comforting strokes. God, he’s stretching you so much, hot and thick and pulsing inside you. It’s almost painful, but it’s a welcome pain.
“Jesus, Joel,” you moan when he stops to let you breathe, “You’re so big.”
“I ain’t even halfway in yet, darlin’.”
“W-what?” How is that even possible? 
“You can take it.” He says, sliding in some more and fuck you don’t have much of a choice. but you can, and you will because he feels too fucking good, and you’re ready for him to make you feel it into next week.
“Is…is it all the way in yet?” You ask, thoroughly stretched and filled. 
“Almost, sweet girl,” he breathes. “Goddamn, you’re tight.”
That makes you clench down even more, and he releases a pained groan behind you. “Relax, darlin’, c’mon.”
You do your best and let yourself sink into the bed, taking deep breaths and concentrating on the crackling of the fire.
And then, he thrusts fully into you, filling you up completely, and your mind is right back to him, a soft cry slipping from your lips into the pillow.
 “There we go, tha’s it. Good job. Taking me so well,” he croons, stroking your side.
“F-fuck me, Joel, please move.”
He squeezes your ass in his large palm in retaliation to your command. “You use me, I use you, remember?”
But he listens anyway, likely desperate to move himself, because then he’s gripping your hip with a large hand and pulling back just to sheath himself fully into you once more, his cock head bumping against your cervix, and holy fucking shit.
“Joel!” You cry, and he leans over to kiss you, teeth biting at your plump lower lip as he thrusts into you again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
He rolls into you at a steady, bruising pace, and you’re practically boneless as you just take it. Cries and whimpers and moans spilling out of you like a gas leak as he mouths down your throat, sucking and biting and oh my god this is way better than just getting yourself off on his hand. 
Then Joel shifts, pushing at your side to press your stomach into the mattress. You whine as he pulls out of you to situate himself behind you. He grabs your hips with both hands and pulls them up and backwards, easing himself back into you until your ass meets his skin, then he rolls his hips, driving his cock deep from a brand new angle.
All you can do is sob into the pillow. 
He’s so fucking big, so fucking deep you can’t think of anything else besides him and his wonderful cock, or the filthy things he’s whispering into your shoulder blades.
His large hand plants itself on your spine, and your hands scramble for purchase on a pillow.
“Sweet girl, taking me so fuckin’ well,” he purrs. “You were desperate for this cock, huh? God, I wish you could see yourself. Split open on me like this. Your little boy toy wouldn’t be able to fuck you like this, ain’t that right?"
You shake your head. God, why did you even make that dick appointment in the first place?
You hadn’t even realized what being fucked by a “real man” meant until now.
Joel knows how to fucking deliver, you guess that’s why he’s so successful in his contracting business. He’s delivering you straight to that blessed release. 
You clench around the girth of him, the filthy sounds of your arousal echoing in his room along with the cracks and snaps from the fire burning steadily in the hearth.
If you couldn’t sleep before, you definitely will be able to after this because you’re mindless as he fucks you into oblivion.
“Joel, fuck—mmph—!” 
“Yeah, that’s right. Can’t say anythin’ but my name.”
His breathing has become more labored, desperate grunts escaping his lips as his cock twitches inside of you. He’s getting close, deep and gravely moans falling out of him as his thrusts become harder and more sporadic.
His hand sneaks around your front, spanning your entire stomach as he slides down to your soaking folds, his middle and ring finger finding that sensitive bundle of nerves and giving them a gentle tap before circling, using that same method from before that had you squirming.
You writhe on his length, legs falling out beneath you as your orgasm swells within you. 
“Please Joel,” you whimper into the pillow. 
“I’ve got you,” he promises. 
It’s there, filling your body, building and cresting and searing white-hot through your limbs. 
And then he thrusts a certain way, hitting that spot within you, and his fingers are circling and—
Yeah.
You fall boneless to the mattress as you come apart, your arousal coating Joel’s cock as he continues to fuck you through your release, stroking your spine. Pleasure floods through your body as the tension releases, and tears freely fall as you cry into the pillow.
Because goddamn it!
How can something feel so good? 
And then Joel’s pulling out of you and letting loose a long, satisfied moan as he comes all over your back, hot stripes painting you. 
He collapses next to you, groaning something about his back.
And you can’t help but laugh, delirious and soft, and Joel’s laughing too, brown eyes sparkling. His calloused hand comes up, runs his thumb along your jaw, and he’s smiling at you, soft and unlike anything you’ve ever seen before.
“You alright, peach?”
“Ohhh yeah,” you giggle, sighing with contentment.
You’re gonna be feeling this for days, just like you wanted.
Joel’s lips brush against your forehead gently, and you’re too tired to acknowledge it, slumber pulling you under far too quickly. You think you can feel the gentle swipe of a wet washcloth on your back before you pass out.
-----
“Fuck…”
The bed is empty when you wake, and a spike of anxiety shoots through you as you sit up. A fire still crackles in the hearth, a fresh log dropped in the ash. On the night stand is a note, beneath it, one of Joel’s t-shirts, your jeans, and a pair of your underwear. 
Mortification climbs through you as you read:
Peach,
My bathroom’s on the left if you’d like to shower. I hope you don’t mind, I went through your bag to get you some panties  underwear. Lot of books in there. You sure like to read.
Oh god, he found your erotica stack. The covers are not misleading, either, he definitely knows what kind of books they are. You force yourself to keep reading through the humiliation.
I’m out picking up Sarah and Ellie, I’ll be home soon. There’s pancakes on the counter. We’ll tow your car when I get back.
Also–about last night…we don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to. But, I want you to know that if you ever need something like that again, I’m here. And for anything else. I’m here. Always. 
See you soon. 
Warmth fills your body and you reread those last sentences over and over. 
Always. Does he really mean that? 
You check the alarm clock on his nightstand–it’s eleven fucking a.m. Holy shit, you haven’t slept that late in a long time. 
When you stand, an ache radiates through you, and memories of last night flit in your mind and along with them, a fresh new wave of arousal. You scramble for the shower.
You emerge fresh and clean twenty minutes later, smelling like Joel, having only his body wash and shampoo to use. Each inhale is practically torture, and the ache between your legs is just another reminder. Seeing yourself in his shirt makes it worse. You try and push it away.
You descend the steps, halting when you hear the sound of Ellie’s voice from the kitchen.
“And I was like, pew pew! And I got both of them out!”
Sarah’s scoff of disbelief follows. “Nuh-uh! You didn’t even hit me!”
You creep down the steps, smiling a bit at Ellie’s outcry of “Yes I fucking did!”, and then you hear it–Joel’s low laugh, the Texan drawl.
“You kiddos are gonna drive me crazy. Just eat your damn pancakes.”
“Why’d you make these in the first place? You don’t even like pancakes,” Sarah teases. 
“Uh…”
You decide you should probably help him out. “Hey girls.”
Three heads snap in your direction. The eyes of one skirting down your body, a blush creeping across his cheeks. The other two brighten in shock. 
“What are you doing here!” Ellie gasps. 
“We haven’t seen you in forever!” Sarah adds.
You enter the kitchen and come up behind them to pull them in for a hug, your arms hooking around their necks. You smush their cheeks against yours. Ellie grumbles, Sarah laughs.
“I know! I’ve missed you guys so much. I’m just super busy with being an adult and all that shit,” you say, letting them go so they can breathe. You round the island, grabbing a plate and stacking two pancakes on it.
“Well, stop being busy. We miss you,” Ellie says.
“If I could, I would.”
“Why are you wearing Dad’s shirt?” Sarah asks, eyes narrowing, a mischievous smile pulling at her lips.
“I–um–” the question catches you off guard, and you scramble for an excuse, eyes flicking to Joel desperately. He clears his throat and crosses his arms over his broad chest, now covered in yet another, dark flannel. How many does he own?
“Snowstorm stranded her here last night, and she didn’t have any clean clothes,” Joel says, definitively.
It’s not a lie at all, and yet, it feels like one.
Sarah and Ellie exchange a look that says, yeah fucking right. You shovel pancake into your mouth to try and cool down the blush in your cheeks. 
“Speakin’ of,” he continues, “I’ve got the tow dolly all hooked up so when you’re done, we can tow your car out.”
“Great. Thank you, Joel.”
His brown eyes flick between yours, his hand coming up to rest large and warm on your shoulder. “‘Course, sweetheart.” 
You finish your pancakes without any more embarrassing questions from the girls, thank God, and then you’re out in the snow wearing a pair of Joel’s boots stuffed with socks (they’re too big, but they’re better than heels) and bundled up in one of his coats, watching Joel tow your tiny car out of the snowbank.
It’s just as cold as yesterday, though the dreary sky has cleared into a baby blue, the sun bright and high above the clouds. The roads are clearer, the snow plows having come by not too long ago. 
You grimace as you hear your car groan and creak as Joel pulls it out of the snow, big puffs of it falling off the roof in clumps. Eventually, it’s on solid ground once more, and he tows it back toward his cabin. 
Back in the driveway, Joel hops out of his truck and double checks your car. He pats the roof of it when he deems it accetable. “All good to go, sweetheart.”
You sigh in relief, “Thank you so much Joel, seriously.”
He nods, though he looks…nervous for some reason. “‘Course, darlin’. Glad I could help.”
You don’t really want to leave, but you’ve bothered him long enough, so you stroll to the driver's side and go to open it, but suddenly Joel’s hand comes down to keep it closed. You look up at him confused. 
His expression is hard, serious as he looks down at you. “Do you regret last night?”
Well. You were not expecting that. You thought that, maybe, it would just remain undiscussed. A blip. Something you both shared, but never spoke of again. You know your answer, though.
 “No. I don’t.”
“Good,” he says, eyes dark, “me either.”
He opens the door for you, pauses for a second then shuts it, voice desperate. “I just need to say this, before you go.”
You nod, encouraging him to go on.
He takes a deep breath, rakes a hand through his graying locks. Pinches the bridge of his nose, and shuts his eyes tight. When he opens them again, there's a hard determination in them. Your pulse quickens, your legs turn to jelly.
“I like you, peach,” he says. “I understand if you don’t want to be with me because of the whole single father thing. And, also because I’m me. But I just thought I’d tell you how I felt, because,” he huffs out a laugh, shakes his head, “I’m thinkin’ you might like me, too.”
Your hands are shaking, and not because of the cold. Maybe you should buy a lottery ticket with how lucky you've been these past fifteen hours.
“I’ve liked you since the moment I met you, Joel," you confess. 
“Oh,” he says, breathless, and a smile pulls at his lips.
“Yeah,” you breathe, your own grin forming to match his. 
The breeze shakes the evergreens, drifting flakes of snow onto Joel’s graying hair. His nose is reddened by the biting cold, but his eyes are warm as he smiles down at you. 
“Not gonna lie to you sweetheart, I’m kind of glad you got stranded here.”
"Yeah, me too," you laugh, and then you pull him down to you, pressing your lips against his, smiling into the kiss.
This kiss is the exact opposite of the one he gave you last night. It’s careful, sweet, tentative. He reveres your mouth, rather than ravishes it. You’re both bundled in multiple layers, standing in the freezing cold rather than lying naked in a warm bed. 
And yet, it’s just as perfect, if not more.
Eventually Joel pulls back, hands heavy on your waist. He’s still grinning. His hands frame your face, his thumb running softly along your cheekbone. 
“Peach,” he says. “Would you like to stay for dinner?”
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