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roosterforme · 1 year ago

Text

Champ, Sport, Buddy | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You decide to try out a few new nicknames on your husband. He's quick to remind you that there is a short list of names that are acceptable.

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, smut

Length: 2500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Based on an ask. Beautiful banner by @mak-32

"Okay, okay, I know it sounds crazy, but I had the best sex of my life the other night. It actually worked."

You were leaning up against the bar at the Hard Deck on Friday night, waiting for Penny to hand you two of your favorite beers, and you couldn't help but overhear the women next to you chatting.

"What exactly did you do?" the brunette asked the redhead.

The redhead grinned and said, "I called my husband 'Buddy' a few times, and he got annoyed at first, but then he fucked the absolute shit out of me."

"I can't believe it worked!" the brunette replied.

You looked over to where Bradley was throwing darts, losing abysmally to Hangman. Your husband looked hot. He always looked hot. He was always good in bed, too. But you were curious.

"Excuse me," you said as you turned toward the two women. "I don't mean to interrupt, but I couldn't help but overhear. You called your husband 'Buddy' which led to amazing sex?"

"Yes!" gushed the redhead again. "Are you married? Dating someone?"

"I'm married," you told her, glancing again at Bradley as he raked his finger through his hair. He turned and caught your eye, winking across the room.

"Listen, I'm sure you love your husband, but the male ego is fragile and can only handle so much."

You snorted and shrugged. "Makes sense."

"So all you have to do is play into his insecurities a tiny bit. Make him feel like you've pushed him into the friend zone until he snaps a little. He'll be dying to show you that he's not your 'Buddy', he's your lover."

You pondered that for a moment as you picked up your beers. "Thanks," you told both women. "I'll give it a try."

"Good luck!" they called after you as you took both beers back to the dartboard.

"What took you so long?" Bradley rasped as you handed him one of the bottles. "I missed you."

You rolled your eyes with a smile before you kissed his scarred cheek. "I was just across the room."

He was looking at you like he was almost ready to take you home. "Across the room? That's too far, Baby Girl. I like it when you're right next to me. Where you belong."

"Right here?" you asked, rubbing yourself against his side.

"Yeah," he whispered. "Right there."

"The two of you are absolutely disgusting these days," Nat informed you as you kissed Bradley and tangled your fingers up in his hair. "I don't know who let you get married, but this has become distressing." She was smiling at both of you as Bradley wrapped his arm around your waist.

"We'll just head out then," he told his friend, handing her the bottles of beer you just got. "Have a great night."

Then he scooped you up and carried you outside to the Bronco as you squealed. "You wanna do this here or at home, Baby Girl?" he murmured next to your ear as you clung to him and giggled.

"Are you serious?"

He sucked on your neck while he unlocked the Bronco, and you ended up having sex on the backseat. You kept your bodies down low, and Bradley had one big palm planted over your mouth. When you looked up at him as you licked his hand, he groaned.

"Baby Girl. Fuck, Sweetheart. You feel so perfect."

The sex was very good. It was always good. You liked the rush of knowing you could get caught. And when you came on his cock, Bradley filled you with his cum before quickly zipping up his jeans. He looked around, and then helped you climb into the front seat. Once you and he were both buckled in, he pulled out of the parking lot to the sound of you and he erupting into laughter.

------------------------

But the next day, you were still thinking about those two women from the bar. You wondered if it would work. Because if Bradley was leaving you satisfied nearly every single time, what would the next level be like? Getting him a little extra wound up was always fun for you. You shivered a bit as you thought about it while you made lunch.

You glanced out the window to where he was pulling weeds in just some gym shorts, occasionally pausing to throw a tennis ball for Tramp. He looked sweaty and delicious, and you knew that he would walk back inside soon, ready for lunch and expecting you to take him to bed. Because he was irresistible to you like this, and he knew it.

So you made him a grilled cheese sandwich with a little side of carrot sticks, and you waited. When you heard the sliding glass door open and the sound of his shoes on the floor, you took a deep breath to stifle the giggle that threatened to escape.

"Hey, Baby Girl," he grunted from the doorway.

"Hey, Buddy. Can you get the hot sauce off the dining room table for me?" You glanced at him over your shoulder, trying your best not to laugh. His brow was furrowed as he leaned against the wall with his forearm, sweaty and shirtless.

"Buddy?" he muttered under his breath before turning back to the dining room. You bit your lip hard, trying to get composure as he brought you the bottle and set it on the counter right next to your cutting board. He was very much in your personal space, palm planted on the edge of the counter, waiting for you to look at him. When you glanced up, he asked, "Is there something you want to talk about, Sweetheart?"

"Nope," you replied, shaking your head slightly.

"Right," he whispered, taking his plate of lunch when you handed it to him. "Right." You watched Bradley wander into the dining room, and you followed him, pulling out a chair for yourself instead of sitting on his lap.

After you ate quietly for a few minutes, he set his sandwich down. "Are you going to tell me what's bothering you?"

"What do you mean, Champ?" you asked, taking a sip of lemonade to hide your smile as his eyes went wide.

"Champ? Baby Girl, are you mad at me?"

"No," you told him, finishing your sandwich as quickly as you could and standing up.

He was immediately on your tail as you took your plate to the kitchen sink. "I don't want you to be upset with me," he said, caging you in at the sink. "Tell me what I did wrong." He looked a little worried as you shrugged.

"I'm not upset," you promised. He leaned in and kissed you. It started out sweet, and slowly but surely it progressed to some tongue and his body pressing against yours. He was warm and sweaty, and you wanted more. But you broke the kiss, gave him a peck on the cheek and said, "I need to go get the mail, Sport."

"S-Sport?" he stuttered, following you for a few steps until he was standing in the middle of the living room with his hands planted on his hips. He looked like a confused puppy as you glanced back when you closed the front door, and then you laughed all the way to the mailbox.

"I called him Sport," you said, cackling to yourself as you emptied all the junk mail and bills out of the mailbox. You took the time to make your face neutral again as you walked back into the house, only to find that Bradley hadn't moved at all.

You were sorting the mail in your hands when he closed the distance to you. Apprehension was flowing off of him in waves. "What the hell did I do?" he rasped, and you looked up at him.

"I already told you, Buddy. Nothing."

He ran a nervous hand through his messy hair. "So, I'm not doing enough? Are we- are we getting divorced or something, Sweetheart?"

You had to try so hard not to touch him or laugh. "Why would you think that?"

"Because you're calling me Buddy! And Sport!"

You bit your lip and shrugged again, taking in his muscular form and shocked expression. "I'm just trying out some new nicknames."

"New nicknames? The fuck? You never call me those things!"

"I just thought I might start calling you things that I would call a friend."

He took a staggering step away from you before gesturing to himself with both hands. "A friend? Do I look like your friend? I am not your friend."

"I thought you said you were my best friend, Champ," you whispered, trying to hold it together as the flushed color on his cheeks grew darker.

"Of course you're my best friend, Baby Girl!"

You pressed your lips together before you said, "Then I don't see the problem?"

His eyes were wide and his lips were parted as he closed the distance to you and grabbed you a little rough. "You don't see the problem, huh? You ride your friends' dicks like you ride mine? You moan for your friends when you're a horny mess?"

His hands were on your hips as he held you against his semi hard cock. "Well, no-" you gasped.

"No. You don't. I'm your husband. I'm not your friend."

You bit your lip and then whispered, "Okay, Buddy."

And then he snapped. His lips were on yours in the roughest kiss. You had to grab for his shoulders so you didn't trip as he pushed you back against the bannister. His body was heavy against yours as the wood dug into your back. "That's enough," he growled. "There are four names you call me, and Buddy isn't one of them. Neither is Champ. Neither is Sport."

"Four names?" you asked softly, moaning as he sucked on your neck until you squealed. And then he wedged his thigh between your legs, and you whined, "Roo!"

"Yeah, Baby Girl," he whispered against your neck as he started yanking your shirt up. "That's one of them. Keep going."

You looked up at him as he peeled your shirt off and unclasped your bra. When you started to ride his thigh, he brought his hands up to your nipples, stroking softly at first. Then he was dipping his head down and brushing you with his mustache until you cried out, "Bradley!"

"Yeah, I'm your Bradley. Keep going, Sweetheart," he commanded before sucking your nipple into his mouth and unzipping your denim shorts. You were whining so loudly as he ran his tongue in lazy circles and looked up at you. Then he kissed his way down to your rooster tattoo as your shorts and underwear slid down your legs.

He licked your tattoo before turning his attention to your pussy. When he guided one thigh up over his bare shoulder, you met his eyes and whispered, "Daddy."

Your husband groaned, dragging his tongue and mustache through your wet slit before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking. "Daddy!" you screamed, digging your fingers into his hair and scalp to keep yourself upright. The wood against your back was painful where every other part of my body was drowning in pleasure as Bradley ate your pussy.

"Say it again," he demanded before licking from your opening to your clit over and over while you told him he was your Daddy. "I'm your Daddy," he growled, getting to his feet and scooping you up as well. You were whimpering as he carried you to the steps and set you down on your hands and knees. You could feel the warmth of his body behind you and over you as he gently kissed along your bare back until you were practically in tears, needing more.

When you wiggled your butt back against his shorts, you could feel him pull his cock free. "You're forgetting one name," he rasped, dragging his tip through your wetness before resting himself right at your opening with a little pressure. Then one big hand wrapped around to your clit and the other found your breasts as he said, "I'll help you remember it."

And then he fucked you, so hard and so good, filling you with each fluid snap of his hips. He bottomed out until you were rocking forward against your hands braced on the steps.

"Oh god, Roo!" you screamed. He was so rough and yet so fucking sweet when his lips met the back of your neck.

Then he filled you all the way and stayed there, pushing a little harder still as he wrapped his hand around your hair and pulled. "Fuck!" you screamed as your back arched, pressing him to your g-spot until you were panting and ready to beg. "Please!"

He licked your neck and rasped, "I'm not Buddy. I'm Roo. Got it?"

"Yes! Yes!"

"I'm your Daddy, Baby Girl," he whispered as you whined, stroking his fingers along your clit and yanking on your hair. "But you're forgetting one name."

He started fucking you again in earnest, fingers tapping your clit until you were babbling nonsense. The slap of his thighs against the backs of yours was mesmerizing as he hit every spot just right.

"Come on, Sweetheart. You're my good girl. So smart," he grunted. "You know what to call me when I'm in charge. You know what to call me right now. You pinned it on my chest."

You were keening as you felt that first delicious clench around his cock, but when you didn't answer him, he eased his fingers away from your clit. "No!" you gasped.

"Say it," he growled, thrusting a little harder. "Fucking say it."

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw!"

Then his fingers were right there, and your pussy was clenching as you moaned every variation of his name as you came. But he kept it going, almost to the point of over stimulation, extending your orgasm until your eyes were filled with tears. His fingers were still stroking you as your legs shook, and then finally he was groaning your given name and grabbing your hips as he fucked you until he came in your pussy.

He collected you in his arms, pulling you up so your back was against his sweaty chest, and he kissed your shoulder. You leaned back as you caught your breath, and he pressed his lips to your ear. "I never want to hear any of that shit again. Got it?"

"Yes, Daddy," you told him with a smile playing on your lips. "Never again."

He kissed you and stroked his hands all over your body. It worked. The women from the bar were right. That was absolutely next level.

Then Bradley pulled his cock from your pussy as you whined, and he slapped your ass. "Okay, Sport. Let's get a move on. We've got chores to do." You looked back at his smug expression as he pulled his shorts up. "You coming, Champ?"

"Bradley," you groaned, glaring at him.

You managed to stand on your shaky legs and chase after him, but he scooped you up. "I got ya, Buddy," he whispered with a grin, and you smothered him with kisses until he couldn't talk.

-------------------------

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miniseokminnies · 9 months ago

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through a different lens — l.sm

❥ pairing: lee seokmin x gn!reader ❥ theme: meet cute, strangers to something ❥ wc: ~3.4k ❥ warnings: fluff, language barrier, mentions of alcohol, author is obviously down bad, author also obviously doesn't live in london (let them live) ❥ a/n: this was supposed to be for valentine's day but kind of turned into a bigger project than i anticipated so it's for seokmin's birthday as well! i really like this one so please let me know what you think!! likes and reblogs appreciated

This wasn’t your scene. Oh God this was not your scene. Your friends always want to go clubbing on Friday nights, and being a good friend you always gave in. However, right about now, when the music was vibrating your skull, being anywhere else sounded amazing.

“y/n!” the voice of your friend pierced through the noise and brought you back from inside your head, “come take a shot!” she smiled at you. Reluctantly you joined your friends, all drunker than you. Someone shoved the small glass into your hand and you threw it back easily and quickly. The liquid burned all the way down into your stomach, you felt your cheeks flush with heat.

Eyes wandering toward the exit of the crowded bar, the thought crossed your mind to leave. Looking back toward your friends they were once again engaged in their own conversations, paying little attention to you. They all expect you to slip out early without telling anyone, you always do.

Cool air bloomed in your lungs and you felt like you could breathe for the first time tonight. The street in front of you was not particularly crowded, the walk home will probably be easy and refreshing. Taking another deep breath of fresh air you began in the direction of your flat. The city used to excite you, but these days you’d rather be home with some tea and a good book. You really wished you had stayed home tonight.

“Excuse me?” you heard a timid voice cut the silence. You suppressed a groan, you hadn’t even been walking for five minutes. Turning toward the source of the voice you were met with the confused face of a man, “Do you know…a place to eat?” he asked, accompanying the question with an eating motion with his hand.

“Uh yeah, there’s a great place down the street a ways and around the corner, if you go past Pennie’s you’ve gone way too far,” looking back at the man you could see the concentration on his face as he tried to remember your directions. Feeling bold from the remaining alcohol in your system you took a step closer to him, “I’ll show you, I could go for a bite too” He smiled at you then, the biggest smile you’ve ever seen, even in the darkness of the street you swear his teeth were shining.

“Thank you” he finally said with a bow of his head, breaking your trance and setting your feet in motion. The two of you walked side by side, your arms folded around you, and him clutching his camera. The walk was silent, aside from the man asking to stop to snap pictures a few times. It was odd though, the silence was never once uncomfortable for you, and he made no indication that it was for him either.

Every so often you glanced up at him, getting a better look at him now that the street was more well lit. You noticed his strong nose first, the way the light settled on his face made him look ethereal. Judging by his amazement for a shitty London street, you knew he was a tourist. Looking back at your feet you smiled to yourself, it was nice to see someone so excited about something you see every day.

“This is it!” you smile at him as the two of you approach the restaurant. He nods at you, seemingly waiting for you to enter. He trails behind you as you enter the building and inform the staff that you’ll be needing a table for two. Once you were seated you broke the tension, “So…where are you from?” you asked hesitantly.

“I am from Korea” he spoke slowly, but you saw his eyes light up at your question. Speaking of his eyes, sitting across the table from him you now saw them fully, a warm brown that compliments his tanned skin nicely. There are crinkles at the corners of his eyes, indicating that smile he flashed at you in the street was a normal part of his communication.

“That’s far,” you remarked, taking a sip of your water, “what brings you here?”

“Mmm” he thought for a moment, “holiday” he answered simply. You nodded as he looked around the restaurant, “my name is Seokmin” his eyes found yours again.

“My name is y/n” you exchanged with a small smile. Something about the kindness in his eyes made you squirm under his gaze. When the waiter came around to your table you once again decided to be bold, ordering fish and chips for Seokmin and yourself. If he came all the way from Korea you felt it was your duty to show him London’s best classics. Was it jumping too far to feel like he had met you in the street for a reason?

“Two beers, please” Seokmin’s voice pulled you from your thoughts once again. He was smiling up at the waiter holding up two fingers. The waiter nodded and headed toward the kitchen.

“Good call” you smiled at him, hoping to get a better look at his face when he smiles in return. Just your luck, he turned to you beaming. His eyes do crinkle when he smiles.

The food came quickly, not that you would have minded if it took a little longer than usual. Seokmin has a way of making you feel at ease, even in a social situation that would typically make you incredibly nervous. He did his best keeping up with conversation, you felt terrible about not being able to communicate in his native language.

Seokmin stared down at his plate, his eyes widening at the amount of food. “Try it, try it” you nearly squealed. You did not even dare to pick up your fork until you knew he liked the food. Your eyes followed the movement of his hand as his delicate fingers picked his fork up from the table. He lifted the bite of fish to his lips and popped it in his mouth. Immediately, he let out a satisfied sound.

“This is good!” he smiled after he swallowed. You smiled back at him and cut the fish with your fork as well. At some point in the meal, you were completely enthralled in Seokmin. The way he moved interested you even and even though you didn’t know nearly anything about him, somehow you knew you had never met anyone like him.

Something then made him laugh under his breath. Putting your glass down you gave him a questioning look. Trying not to smile, he gestured with his finger around his mouth. At this, your hand flew to your lips and you flushed with embarrassment as you felt the foam from your beer on your upper lip.

You could hear him nearly choking on his laugh and your eyes lifted again to meet his. Immediately, he tried to avert his glance, but you could tell he was still stifling his giggles. You felt your cheeks heat up again, and butterflies settle in your stomach. You couldn’t help but notice how handsome he looked in that moment. Pulling out your phone and positioning it so he was in your view finder you remarked,

“You should see how silly you look trying to hold back your teasing,” his eyes crinkled again at this, butterflies erupted in your stomach, and he threw up a peace sign, inviting you to take the picture. “Look!” you exclaimed, turning your phone so he could see the picture. Seokmin was laughing now, throwing his head back and clapping, the whole thing. You were lucky that in his excitement, he missed the fond look you gave him without even realizing.

“Do you know your way back to where you’re staying?” you asked earnestly once the two of you had paid and were outside the restaurant. He nodded at you and turned his phone, much like you did earlier, so you could see that he had the address and walking directions pulled up. “Good, now,” you pulled your phone out, “give me your number, I don’t want you getting lost”

***

Your life continued as normal the next day. Waking up, thankful you didn’t drink much the night before, you slipped out of bed toward the kitchen. Clicking on the kettle you think about the night before. Meeting Seokmin almost felt like it was a dream, but you have a photo on your phone to prove it wasn’t. He had also insisted that you send the picture you took, so you do have at least one thread of text conversation.

You reached for a mug, wishing you were taller, and heard your phone buzz on the counter. Assuming it was one of your friends texting you asking where you disappeared to last night, you continued to make your tea. Then your phone buzzed two more times, none of your friends would be that desperate to talk to you. Once your tea bag was securely in your mug you grabbed your phone.

Seokmin (fish n chips guy): y/n

Seokmin (fish n chips guy): the bus

Seokmin (fish n chips guy): ?????

Your heart skipped a beat realizing he actually texted you. Then, you began laughing realizing what he was asking.

You: do you need help?

Seokmin (fish n chips guy): yes

Seokmin (fish n chips guy): please

Seokmin (fish n chips guy) sent their location

Oh. Oh. He wanted to meet up again, you nearly spat out your tea seeing the notifications pop in. Checking his location you saw that he is at a bus stop a twenty minute walk away from you. You scrambled to get ready and ran out the door.

You saw him immediately when you rounded the corner to the stop. He was looking through his pictures on his camera, fully engrossed in his task. He looked up as you approached and moved toward you.

“y/n” he breathed

“How may I help” you smiled, giving a dramatic bow. He moved toward you, pulling out his phone. Standing at your side he showed his phone screen, with a bus route pulled up. “oh, easy” you looked up at him, trying not to blush at the sudden closeness, “I take that bus all the time”

You paid Seokmin’s bus fare, it’s the least you could do after he paid for the dinner you invited yourself to last night. Seokmin dragged you by the sleeve to the back of the bus, which is a place you would normally avoid but seeing how excited he was, you didn’t mind.

As the bus began to move Seokmin watched out the window, the city zooming by. You watched him watch the window. He looked cute when he was focused. The thick black framed glasses perched on his nose reflected the scenery. Without thinking you pulled out your phone, snapping a picture of him just like last night. Seokmin must have seen you out of the corner of his eye because he turned toward you.

He raised his camera and watched you through the viewfinder for several moments. You covered your face with your hands in a futile attempt to hide your blushing cheeks. You heard the shutter click a few times and then silence. Removing your hands you look up at him to find he is looking right back at you. Seemingly he became flustered and turned back towards the window.

You realized halfway through the trip, you weren’t actually sure where you two were going. Sure, you took this route all the time, but you didn’t know where Seokmin wanted to go. The only indication you had that it was time to get off the bus was Seokmin standing up suddenly. It was a stop you never get off at, but you follow him out and onto the street.

He grabbed his phone and pulled you closer to him by your sleeve. You felt your stomach swoop at the sudden breaking of the flimsy wall between you. Trying to not read too far into his action you glanced at his phone. He had pulled up the walking directions to a nearby thrift shop.

The walk was not too long, and the two of you passed the time easily. Every so often Seokmin would point something out and tell you the Korean word for it, which in turn you would give him the English word. His eyes were trained on you so attentively when you spoke it made you almost nervous.

Rounding the corner you saw the store he was hoping to visit. You may have been here once or twice, but it’s nowhere you frequent. He pulled the door open and held it for you. You smiled at him as a thanks, which earned you a blinding smile in return. Lucky you.

The two of you strayed away from each other, looking in different sections for a while. You swiped through the selection of shirts in your size, trying not to look around for Seokmin. The fabric in your hands didn’t feel real, you were distracted. You moved around to the rack of pants, which was closer to the set of stairs in the store which led to the music section upstairs.

You continued to browse through the pants, not really interested. Movement near the stairs made you look up, Seokmin was looking at the records hanging on the wall. He investigated them on his own for several moments, fully engrossed, before looking around for something, you hoped it was you he was looking for. As if he could read your mind his eyes settled on you from across the room, smiling, he called

“Jagiya!” As soon as the word rolled off his tongue, his eyes widened and his hand flew to his mouth. He obviously was under the impression he said something he shouldn’t have, if only you knew what it meant, “y/n” he corrected himself after taking a moment to calm down. You left the rack of pants behind almost immediately,

“Hmm?” you hummed once you were at his side on the stairs. Sleeves of your jackets brushing against each other. Seokmin pointed at the records on the wall, he was obviously excited. “Music lover, hm?” you smiled up at him.

“Yes” he smiled back, eyes almost closed, “I’m a singer” he added. Seokmin wished you could see your face right now, you looked amazed at the confession, your lips forming a little ‘o’.

“You’ll have to sing for me sometime” you said before remembering you had no idea how long you would be around each other. However, he just beamed and nodded at you. The two of you wandered around the music store upstairs for a while, Seokmin taking a particular interest in the selection of The Beatles vinyls.

Watching him closely, you noted the ring he wore, the delicate way he moved through the records. Seokmin was so interesting to you, everything he did seemed to be with purpose, but he also seemed carefree at times. Again, you wished so desperately to be able to communicate with him easier.

Eventually, you made it out of the store. The sun bit through the cold of the air and warmed your face. Closing your eyes you moved to face the sun and took a deep breath. You stayed here for several moments before hearing the click of Seokmin’s shutter again. Your eyes snapped open and toward him, his camera still raised, he watched you through the viewfinder again.

“Hey!” you laughed, “Stop that”

“You look happy” he replied simply, lowering his camera, looking at you fondly. There was nothing to do about the blush blooming across your cheeks, and you did nothing to hide it this time. He walked toward you and gestured down the street, “shall we walk?” he suggested.

The walk was quiet, but again, comfortable. Seokmin switched what hand he was carrying his camera in, letting the hand closest to you drop to his side. Periodically, his knuckles brushed against yours, giving you the feeling of electricity running up your arm every time. The tension crackled between the two of you until Seokmin stopped in front of a restaurant, “Hungry?” he looked at you, tilting his head to the side, a gesture that reminded you so much of a puppy it was insane.

“So hungry,” you agreed. Soon enough the two of you were seated at a booth that felt more like a couch. Comfortable silence fell between you as you looked over the menu, you eyed him a few times before he put his menu down.

After your orders were placed Seokmin brought out his camera and began to look through his photos. Every so often he would tilt the screen so you could see, most of the shots he showed you were of you. Suddenly, his phone began to buzz incessantly. You watched as his eyebrows knit together in confusion and he picked up his phone to check it.

“Ah” he sighed, and placed his phone face down back on the table, “My friend Soonyoung….” his eyes drifted around the restaurant, he was thinking of what to say next, “jagiya—“ he laughed and clutched the white knit beanie that sat on his head, “my English”

“Talk to me in Korean,” you shrugged nonchalantly, “I won’t understand, but I’ll listen” you assured him. His eyes lit up, and he immediately began talking animatedly. You were amazed at the change in him once he was speaking comfortably. Watching him attentively you took in the way his hands accompanied his enthusiasm.

You could tell, Seokmin was a person who was just full of love. Anyone lucky enough to be on the receiving end of that love was someone you were jealous of. You would do anything to sit in his light for as long as he would allow you.

***

“My last day” Seokmin’s voice still laced with sleep mumbled through your phone. You don’t know what possessed him to call you this morning but you would never complain.

“Today?” you asked, feeling a bit nervous, “do you have plans?”

“Mhmm” he hummed, “Join me later?” you could feel your heart jump up into your throat at the question.

“Of course” you mumbled trying to steady your voice.

Seokmin (fish n chips guy) sent a location

The sun setting overhead cast the street in watercolors of pinks and blues. Your eyes scanned through the throng of people all here to watch the sunset over the river. He caught your attention almost instantly, he was facing away from the river, arms propped up on the stone barrier, eyes closed enjoying the night air.

As you approached you watched as the breeze caught his bangs and ruffled them. Before making your presence known you snapped a picture of him looking so serene.

“Hey” you ventured, now right in front of him. His eyes cracked open, taking in your frame. Almost instantly his face was overtaken with a smile.

“Hi” he replied. You moved to stand next to him, facing the river and he turned to look out with you. Both of you stood in quiet contemplation for several minutes.

“You know,” you broke through the tension, “I haven’t been here in so long.” your eyes trained on the clock face of Big Ben across the water, “Somehow, you’ve reminded me of all the parts of my city I love” Seokmin shifted to face you,

“I love the city,” you met his eyes, it felt as though he was trying to tell you something.

“You leave tomorrow” you turned toward him, “is it weird if I say I’ll miss you?” Seokmin shook his head as the wind picked up. Once more, the breeze caught both of your hair. Seokmin moved to brush yours aside, searching your eyes to make sure you weren’t uncomfortable. You were glued to your spot, you wouldn’t dare move. Finally you felt his slender fingers in your hair, tucking it behind your ear.

You felt your breath hitch in your lungs as Seokmin’s fingers trailed down and he cupped your cheek with his hand. Absentmindedly, you melted into his touch.

“I leave tomorrow” he sighed as he echoed your previous statement. His other hand found your other cheek and his thumb brushed against it softly. The both of you stood frozen for a moment, neither of you wanting to break the spell.

Suddenly, Seokmin was leaning down toward you, and you felt his soft lips brush yours. The kiss was quick, but full of meaning. It seemed like he was communicating all the things he had wanted to say over the last few days that he couldn’t find the words for.

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thewulf · 2 years ago

Text

Cross || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: The four times you captured Jake Seresin’s attention and the one time he did something about it.

A/N: A request from a friend. Enjoy!

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Y/N

Word Count: 6,500+

TW: Abuse (Physical)

One

From an early age you learned how to sit down, shut up and do what you were told. Growing up on the south side of Chicago didn’t bode well for the greatest childhood. Your parents, if you could even call them that, gave you a shelter and sometimes some food but other than that? You were on your own from a very early age with your older brothers. Who quite frankly didn’t give a shit about you either.

You wished and prayed that your parents would snap out of it and start taking care of their children, but they never did. You gave up praying on your eighth birthday when your mom picked the pills over her own babies. Classic drug addicts. You gave up trying to form a relationship on your tenth birthday when you had to call an ambulance because your dad was unresponsive. He lived, somehow.

Things often got violent in the household. You learned how to protect yourself, learning how to fight back against two methed out parents by the age of twelve. Realizing quickly you had to learn how to defend yourself or you’d likely end up dead. You did just that. You wished your parents were alcoholics like every other parent on the south side. But no, they had to be hard drug users. They were so terribly unpredictable. Sometimes they’d treat you like gold but the very next day you could be getting beat on, you just never knew. You had to be ready at all times. It was exhausting being in constant fight or flight mode.

On your eighteenth birthday you left without saying a word. You didn’t have a plan nor a cent to your name but you sure were scrappy. You’d found weird jobs across the country for a few years before landing in San Diego and meeting Penny Benjamin.

You liked to think Penny saved your life from spiraling even further than it had. She was desperate for a bartender, and you were desperate for a stable job. You ended up falling in love with the job and the area. Most days were great, but some days were awful. And today? Today was one of those awful days.

“Hey sweetie, how about another beer?” A lovely patron of the Hard Deck clinked his empty beer glass against the wood countertop eyeing you up and down. Disgusting. You’d gotten used to brazen men checking you out, but it never ceased to amaze you just how gross they could get. Especially with a little beer in their system.

Rolling your eyes, you simply ignored him deciding to focus your attention elsewhere. Not giving the creepy old man who couldn’t seem to stop eye fucking you any satisfaction. You greeted a younger couple happily chatting away with them trying to ignore the creep as best as you could.

“Baby, I’m talking to you.” He yelled from across the bar interrupting you from the conversation. Penny gave you a look asking if you could handle it. You could. You dealt with these gross drunks all the time. It still didn’t make it pleasant though.

Giving her a quick nod, you turned back to the couple.

You were so tempted to ring that damn bell, but it was more effort than it was worth tonight. See, it was a Friday night at the hard deck and a bunch of Top Gun pilots were back making it even busier than you were used to. You didn’t have time to think let alone serve this entire bar another round. So, you decided against it instead finishing up the order you were already working on.

Once you finished serving the couple you turned your attention back to the man knowing you’d have to confront him eventually. You decided to serve everybody around him first making sure to pay him no attention.

“Baby is playing hard to get.”

Snapping your eyes up at him you swore your nostrils were flaring, “Don’t you fucking baby me.” You were tired. So damn tired of men thinking they could speak to you like you were nothing. Like your only purpose on this god forsaken planet is to serve them beer and look pretty.

“Feisty little one.” He winked as he slid his empty glass in front of you.

“Get the fuck out of this bar.” You stared at him with icy eyes. Any friendliness in your tone completely gone.

You noticed him pause at your words. Taking a second to see if you were being serious. It didn’t work though, he continued to press on, “A pretty little thing like you shouldn’t have a mouth like that.” He slurred his words this time.

“Get the fuck out. Now.” Nearly growling you turned away. You were far too busy to be dealing with this shit right now. Another bartender called off and it was just you and Penny trying to serve hundreds of impatient people.

You didn’t make it too far feeling a cold hand wrap around your wrist.

Fuck it. He started it.

Turning around quickly you made a fist out of your hand like it was second nature. Not putting much thought into it you used all your might as your hand collided with his right eye. He dropped to the floor almost instantly with a thud sending the bar into an almost eerie silence.

“Fuck.” You groaned shaking your wrist out. You had forgotten just how bad it hurt to make direct contact like that. Penny flew over to you making sure you were okay.

It suddenly hit you how silent the bar had gotten after you threw that nasty punch. Only hearing a few whistles from the aviators over in the corner who were all eagerly watching in anticipation. Looking up at them you saw them all nodding and smiling. Simply thrilled this had happened while they were there.

“You okay?” Penny asked as she wrapped some ice in a towel for you.

“Perfectly fine.” You smiled graciously accepting the ice. Your knuckles were already turning purple from the impact.

She leaned over the bar to assess the damage you had inflicted, “Damn girl. You knocked him out cold.” Penny gave you a wide eyed expression as she turned back to you.

Smiling awkwardly at the customers who were still a little shocked you decked someone right in the face, you mimicked Penny leaning over the bar taking a peek. Nodding to yourself you were quite proud of that hit. Not that you necessarily condoned violence but sometimes it was necessary, like right now.

Penny rang the bell trying to liven the crowd back up and trying to signal for the young pilots to come over, “Seresin! Fitch! Throw him out will you?” She yelled to the two closest aviators who couldn’t seem to get enough of what was going on.

“Yes ma’am.” The pretty blond pilot answered her grinning from ear to ear. He looked like he loved this shit. You’d never seen him before. You were sure you would’ve remembered that face. That smile.

“Thank you.” Penny smiled at him before turning back to you. Eyeing your hand, she looked at you curiously, “Can you still serve or …” She trailed off not sure what to say. It wasn’t that often that a young female bartender straight decked a customer and knocked him out cold. Of course, it was you who had to break the mold. It was always you doing something you shouldn’t have.

You weren’t a bad kid. Quite the opposite really. A bit naïve if anything, you simply wanted the best for everyone. But you also weren’t a pushover. You’d given him a few warnings and he was the one that touched you first. You felt every justification in knocking the old creep out.

You always seemed to end up in these situations though. Your trash life just seemed to follow you everywhere like a curse you couldn’t break.

Shaking your head you dropped the ice, “I’m good!”

“That was one hell of a punch.” The blond pilot spoke up drawing your eyes back towards his. Damn, he was pretty. He was even more handsome when he was a few feet from you.

“Thanks.” You laughed grabbing a glass to fill up with a draft, “Guess my dad was good for something.” Smiling brightly at him you attempted to crack a joke. It might’ve been a defense mechanism, but it was true. Your dad was a low life good for nothing fuck who would’ve sold you if he knew he could. He was far too dumb to pull anything like that off though.

His smile dropped slightly being a bit taken aback by your casual statement, “You otta teach our friend Bobby over there how to throw a punch.”

The other pilot laughed at the blonds remark as he began to pick up the unconscious man.

“I’m sure Bobby can throw a punch just fine.” You halfway returned the smile. He was trouble and you could sniff that out a mile away. Growing up like you did gave you a sort of superpower to sniff out bullshit. Being able to read people like a book surely had its advantages.

“I beg to differ.” He threw you a wink before helping his friend out. Taking a breath, you were sure this was just the first of many encounters with the blond pilot. You weren’t sure if that excited you or made you want to quit on the spot.

Two

The next few days had slowed down quite a bit at the Hard Deck. You sure did love the money you made on Friday, especially after throwing that punch, but you were thankful it was slower. Finally, being able to catch your breath after the busy weekend shift.

You were distracted serving a few customers at the bar or you would’ve seen the blonde pilot enter with a few friends. You didn’t see his face perking up ever so slightly when he saw you behind the bar. He considered himself increasingly intrigued by you. He had surely never seen any woman handle herself like that. He simply loved it.

Of course, he offered to get the first round. He wanted to talk to you, even for a moment. Payback and Coyote teased him before he walked over to you. The two of them noticed how he kept bringing you up in conversation even though he knew nothing about you.

“I have a nickname for you.” A silky smooth southern voice from behind you spoke up. Turning around you bit your cheek to hide the stupid smile that wanted to grace your face. There he was… trouble.

“And that is?”

“Cross.”

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, “You’re going to have to explain that one to me.”

“You’ve got an amazing cross shot.” He grinned before continuing, “And I wouldn’t want to cross you.”

“The punch, really?” You grabbed him a few domestics from the fridge sliding them over after popping the tops.

He shrugged taking a slow sip from the glass, “What can I say? It was hot.”

You laughed shaking your head, “Noted…” You trailed off waiting for him to properly introduce himself.

“Hangman.”

“I’m not calling you Hangman. I’m Y/N.” Rolling your eyes, you grabbed a rag wiping down the counter next to him. Making sure to do anything to avoid eye contact with the pretty man.

“And why not? That’s a beautiful name, Y/N.”

“It’s weird.” You rebutted almost instantly ignoring his second comment. Terribly flirty this man was.

This time he let out a hearty laugh. He was enjoying himself all too much. The effortless back and forth between the two of you made him giddy. He could see how sharp you were, how witty you are.

“It’s not weird if I give you permission.”

You continued to clean, “I don’t need your permission. It’s still weird.”

He didn’t stop the smile that formed on his face, “Call me Jake then. I’m still calling you Cross though.”

You looked up to him now, “And if I don’t give you permission?”

“Like you said, I don’t need it.” He countered using your own words against you.

“Fair.” You narrowed your eyes in on him. He got you there, you couldn’t deny that one.

“So, where are you from doll?” You knew he was just being polite, no ill will towards the term of endearment. But you hated it. Your childhood really truly traumatized you. When you were far too young you’d have men catcalling you on the streets calling you sugar, sweetie, honey, or baby. It made your skin crawl. You hated that simple terms of endearment were traumatizing to you. Those sweet nothings were taken from you. Why couldn’t you just be normal?

“Don’t call me that.” You harshly spoke back to him. Your eyes softened seeing his confused expression, “Please.” You added trying to soften the blow.

“I thought I didn’t need permission.” He smirked, testing your boundaries.

You bit your lip thinking hard about how you wanted to respond to him, “Please.” You smiled softly, opting to go the easiest route of begging him not to.

He nodded sharply understanding your near desperation in your ask. Taking another long sip of the beer he hesitated to leave even though his fellow aviators were so patiently waiting on their own.

“Yes ma’am.” He smiled before sauntering off back towards the pool table.

You spent your night relatively busy as the Hard Deck picked up. Sending glances Jake’s way, you couldn’t seem to keep yourself from looking at him. Maybe it was the way he presented himself so surely, but no man had ever treated you with the respect he had already shown.

The bar was literally in hell, yes, but here you were also intrigued with the pretty blond pilot.

Three

It had not been a good few days. Your piece of shit ex-boyfriend had shown up at your doorstep begging you to forgive him. You had called off the shitty relationship a month ago after you caught him cheating. Trash life, trash men.

You really did think he was different until you walked in on him hooking up with a neighbor.

Long story short he wouldn’t leave. The cops had to come. Once they left he had decorated your cheek with a nice little back slap which split your lip right open. He ended up leaving after telling you just how worthless he thought you were.

You sat there crying to yourself wondering why you couldn’t get out of this shitty spiral that your life always seemed to be in. You’d escaped Chicago just to end up in the same situation that you’d grown accustomed to. Being abused by the people that should love you.

You told Penny the truth, not wanting to lie to her. Sure, she was your boss, but she was also one of your better friends here. The two of you got along like peas in a pod and you sure did suffer through enough long nights at the bar together.

She let you take the night off, understanding you would likely not be up for it.

However, she did invite you down to the beach the next day. She mentioned that shirtless pilots running around playing football might cheer you up. Not being one to pass up on such an opportunity you sped on down to the beach sitting next to Penny just outside the Hard Deck.

“Damn. You were right Penny.” You whistled lowly admiring the scene before you, “This really does help.”

She was smiling until she saw your lip, “You alright?”

“Yeah. Nothing I can’t handle. Just caught me by surprise is all.”

She was frowning now, “Did he do that before?”

“No.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

Shrugging you smiled as you found Jake in the swarm of men. Damn, he looked even better shirtless. That just wasn’t fair.

“I’m used to it Penny. Can’t seem to escape it.” You laughed softly accepting your fate. It’s all you really could do. Laugh. What else could you do?

She shook her head, “Don’t say that Y/N. Nobody deserves that.”

“Sure.” You smiled towards her trying to comfort her more than yourself. She looked so worried for you.

She broke the eye contact the two of you were holding first, “Looks like you’ve got a visitor. I need to talk to Pete anyway.” She laughed after seeing your shocked expression. She was just up and leaving you to deal with the handsome stranger?

He immediately noticed your bruised cheek and busted lip. Making sure to brush the frown away quickly he plopped down next to you. Closer than you would’ve, not that you were complaining.

“Another fight there Cross?” Jake grinned hoping to extract something from the closed book that you were.

Huffing to yourself you looked up to him, “Something like that.” You kept it vague as you turned your attention to the waves rolling before you. That’s what you loved about this place. You lived mere minutes from the beach.

He nudged you with his shoulder, “Should I see the other guy?”

Blinking rapidly, you kept your attention away from him suddenly feeling awfully vulnerable as he kept his attention trained on you, “Yeah.” You whispered

“You okay?” He mimicked your whisper. Almost afraid he might spook you if he spoke too loudly.

That question knocked you back into reality, “I’m perfectly fine Jake.” You flashed him your most genuine smile careful not to bust open your lip again. You had finally gotten it to stop bleeding.

“Are you sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You returned his question with one of your own.

“You seem a little spacey and you have a split lip. Just checking that’s all.” Throwing his hands up in defense he refused to look away. He kept his eyes trained on your face.

You were quickly becoming an enigma to him. The two of you seemed to talk frequently but he didn’t know a damn thing about you. He knew your first name and that you bartended at the Hard Deck. That’s all he could seem to get out of you.

You nodded along noticing how defensive you had become, “Volleyball accident. Took a hit right to the chin.” Lying as casually as you could you found the courage to look back over to him.

He clearly didn’t believe you eyeing you curiously, “If that’s the story you’re sticking to. So be it I guess.”

You frowned knowing he wasn’t going to let you get away with it. He was just too confrontational, “Well, it’s the story so.”

“Bullshit.” He countered clearly ready to get into whatever this situation was.

Rolling your eyes, you turned your body away from him slightly. He was annoying. You really didn’t want anybody digging into your life. It was already embarrassing enough to come from where you did. Having to explain that to Jake sounded downright mortifying.

“Does it matter?” You replied refusing to look at him.

He scoffed this time not sure how you weren’t understanding him, “Yes it matters Y/N. Of course, it matters.”

“I slipped in the shower.” You attempted to lie again.

“Why are you lying?” He too seemed to have a mega bullshit detector just like you.

You shrugged, “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

He frowned seeing you look so utterly defeated, “Are you at least safe?”

“I think so.”

His eyes were nearly bugging out of his head now. He couldn’t understand you. How you so utterly nonchalant about whatever situation you were in he couldn’t grasp, “You think?”

Nodding your head you turned back to him, “I should be fine. I can handle him.”

“Him?” He jumped from his seat standing in front of placing his hands gently on your shoulders. You really hadn’t meant to let that one slip, but it was far too late to try and backtrack now.

Sighing you looked up to him, “It’s fine. I’m fine. I’m safe. I can handle it.”

Narrowing his eyes in on you it didn’t look like he quite believed you. But what could he do? He didn’t know you and you sure weren’t planning on sharing, “Are you sure.”

You nodded, “Quite.”

He dropped his hands from your shoulders, “Alright. I should get back?” He pointed to the group almost questioning if he should go or not.

You smiled, “Sure. I’ll see you around Jake.”

“You sure will.” He winked before jogging off back to the group of aviators not able to shake the sinking feeling he had in his gut.

Four

You were in fact able to handle him the second time around. It did come at a cost though. A pretty black eye, a bruised rib and a potentially sprained wrist didn’t stop you from putting him in his place.

Completely forgetting to lock the deadbolt he was able to get in with a copy of your housekey.

The sheer rage your ex had laced in his eyes eerily reminded you of your parents when they were cracked out of their minds. Shuddering at the thought you were able to get the upper hand. You didn’t think he’d be so brazen but then again you couldn’t tell if he was high out of his mind or not.’

Of course, you realized he was a shitty dude at the end of the relationship, but this was completely out of the ordinary from him. He hadn’t laid a hand on you prior to smacking you across the face. But now? The look of sheer rage horrified you, looking like he wanted to seriously hurt you.

Being terribly confused by the whole situation didn’t help either. You just couldn’t understand why he wanted to hurt you. Why he couldn’t have just left the relationship and moved on? He was the one that cheated anyway. It’s not the two of you were terribly in love either. You were only together for a few months. You simply just chalked it up to having the world’s worst luck.

After forcing him out by hitting him with a frying pan a few times you ended up calling the cops, unsure of what to do. They weren’t much help, telling you to find a different place to stay and they’d start a document for a restraining order. It was all bullshit, and you knew it. It wasn’t worth the cost to follow through.

Deciding to call Penny instead of risking staying in the house she let you come sleep on the couch at her place. She let the small gasp come out when she saw your state. You groaned realizing just how bad you probably looked. But true to your words you didn’t really feel that bad. You were used to being roughed up.

She got you some ice for your eye and wrist letting you pick out a movie as she did so. You settled on Step Brothers hoping to take your mind off of everything.

“Thanks Penny.” You yawned beginning to feel exhaustion creep up over you.

“Anytime kid. Get some sleep kid.” She patted your head before departing to her room upstairs. You snuggled in hoping to fall into a dreamless sleep.

Penny let you stay there that day as you searched for new locks, knowing you couldn’t go back until those were changed. She also let you skip your shift that night much to Jake’s dissatisfaction. He was really looking forward to seeing you, you always worked on Thursday’s.

Penny may have let it slip that you were staying at her place just up the road and that you were ‘sick’ after Jake complained that you weren’t there.

Immediately understanding what she was putting down Jake grabbed his keys and walked out of the bar. Shooting a text to his friends letting them know he’d be right back. But he needed to see you, make sure that you were okay.

Softly knocking on Penny’s door, he anxiously waited for you to answer.

You took a peek out the window cursing when you saw Jake standing there. Your face looked even worse than yesterday but there wasn’t enough time to try and hide it.

Sighing you opted to just open the door.

“Jesus Christ Y/N.” Jake frowned examining your black eye and bruised nose.

You smiled softly, “You should see the other guy.”

He grumbled not taking his eyes off your broken face, “Not really a time for jokes Y/N.”

“It’s always time for joking Jake.” You countered knowing it’d drive him mad. Something you enjoyed doing all too much as of late. The simple back and forth the two of you had grown accustomed to gave you so much joy throughout your stay in San Diego.

“Are you okay?” He pushed you back out of the doorway with his own body, inviting himself right on in.

“What are you doing here?” You asked after moving out of his way, not protesting in the slightest.

“I’m checking in.” He gave you the most obvious look, as if it was clear what he was doing here, “Penny told me what happened.”

“That little snake.”

“Well to be fair she just said you were sick. I kind of just assumed after seeing you a few days ago.” He frowned again grabbing some more ice from the freezer for you, “You need to keep ice on it.”

“Okay.” You simply nodded taking the ice pack from him gingerly knowing he was entirely right.

“What? No witty remark? No comeback?”

You giggled for the first time in a while. Feeling lighter and freer with the man standing in front of you. Having an odd sense of trust in him, “No. I don’t argue everything Jake.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” He smiled before guiding you to the couch wanting you to sit down.

Obliging you took a seat at one end, “Pot calling the kettle black.”

He laughed taking a seat at the opposite end, giving you some needed space, “But seriously, are you alright.”

You nodded, “I’m fine. Just need to change my locks and then I’m good.”

“You said that last time.” He deadpanned.

“I was being serious earlier. He took a cast iron pan to the forehead, multiple times. I think he’ll think twice.” You smiled remembering your victory over the weak man.

He looked you over while he nodded, somewhat impressed, “Can’t be too careful though.” He studied you yet again not being able to hide his upset expression. He really couldn’t believe that somebody would ever dare lay a hand on you let alone leave such a mark on your eye. He might’ve only known you for a brief time, but he felt protective over you. So oddly protective.

You shrugged, “I’ll sleep with my pan at night.”

He laughed taking you in. He was fully enamored with you now. How you could make such light out of the seriousness of the situation and manage to calm him down was something magical. Truly unlike anyone he’d ever met, “That’s a start. I’ll tell you what. I have the day off tomorrow, why don’t I help you change those locks then?”

You smiled nodding at him, “I’ll happily take some help.”

“Great.” He smiled, “10 AM work?”

You nodded feeling a burst of excitement at the prospect of Jake helping you out, “Works great.”

“Perfect, see you then. Gotta get back to the bar though, just wanted to check in. Have to go beat Rooster’s ass in a round of darks”

Nodding you didn’t stop the smile that come over you, “See you tomorrow Jake.”

“Goodnight Y/N.”

“Night.”

Five

Another busy night at the Hard Deck had you focusing on everything but watching the front door. After changing your locks your ex didn’t attempt anything, thankfully. You thought he had gotten the hint. Being terribly nervous about the whole situation had you on edge, head on a swivel at all times.

Your heart dropped when you heard that voice from behind you, sitting at the bar as if nothing had happened between the two of you, “Baby, you can’t get rid of me that easily.”

Gulping you refused to turn around instead searching for Penny. But just as you looked up you saw her run off to the back. Sighing you opted to simply keep serving the guests on the opposite side of the bar instead of confronting him. You had the advantage of the bar being particularly busy this night.

“Y/N.” You heard your name called sharply from behind you.

“I’m busy.” You shouted still refusing to turn around moving on to the next customer.

He wouldn’t take no for an answer though. He simply just moved around the bar, dodging, and weaving in between everyone making sure he was in your line of sight. When you saw what he was doing you simply turned around to serve the other side of the bar. Simply not in the mood to indulge in whatever fantasy this dude has. You were prepared to avoid as long as needed.

“Y/N.” There it was again. That damn voice. For the life of you, you couldn’t understand why he was not taking the hint.

“I said, I’m busy.” You snapped back focusing on washing the racks of dirty beer glasses in front of you

“You’re not getting rid of me like this, Y/N. We need to talk about this!”

Rolling your eyes, you kept moving down the bar, strategically avoiding him. The gull on the piece of shit was baffling to you. He was the one that cheated on you. You were pretty damn sure that wasn’t the first time either.

What you also didn’t notice was how Jake was observing you every now and then. Often doing so, he wanted to make sure that you were okay. He caught flack from his fellow aviators for treating you so differently, they didn’t have a clue though. Not a damn clue.

He noticed your relaxed and easy going attitude change drastically throughout the night. You were usually so cheery and happy to talk to people. Tonight, you looked agitated and a little stressed out. For the life of him Jake couldn’t pinpoint what was causing you to feel so distressed.

He didn’t want to bother you when you were so busy, so he hung back for a while. As soon as it began to die down though he found a barstool and waited patiently until you noticed him.

The utter relief you felt when you spotted Jake sitting there was unlike any other. Your ex was still at it getting rather agitated at you dodging him for the last two hours. Relaxing just a little when you spotted him you quickly walked over to where he was sitting, “Jake. What can I get for you?”

“The usual.” He grinned leaning towards you.

“Sure thing.” You returned his smile with a half-hearted one of your own.

“Are you okay?” He asked as you returned with his beer.

Nodding your head you leaned into the counter, “You ask that a lot.”

“You seem to get yourself into very precarious situations.”

Laughing at his comment you realized he didn’t know the half of it. He couldn’t understand because you refused to tell him, “I do, don’t I?”

“Yes ma’am. Now answer the question.” His eyes darkened over slightly letting you know he wasn’t playing around.

You shrugged, “I have a small issue.”

Eyebrows raised he was a little taken aback you were actually going to tell him something. Not that he didn’t enjoy the banter between the two of you, but this was different, more serious, “And what’s that?”

“Don’t look. But my ex is sitting on the opposite side of the bar right now. He’s been following me around all night.” Sighing you leaned in even closer, “I’m so sorry. He’s probably going to confront you now that I’ve been talking to you for more than a minute.”

Jake returned your shrug almost getting a kick out of it, “I’m not worried about that. I’m worried about you right now. Which one is he?”

Smiling softly at his bluntness you continued, “Red hoodie almost right behind me.”

The moment he spotted him Jake’s eyes darkened a few shades. His cheery smile with the dimples was immediately replaced with a straight line running across his face. If you didn’t know any better of him that look would have absolutely petrified you.

“Just keep your eyes on me Y/N.” Jake spoke quietly as he watched your ex eye you as you served customers.

Nodding softly, you kept your eyes trained near Jake not daring to serve that side of the bar. Another bartender noticed and kept that side locked down, “Thanks Jake.”

“Nothing to thank me for Y/N.” He gave you a serious look to let you know he wasn’t kidding. Jake could never accept a thank you for doing what he was raised to do, protect women. You couldn’t grow up in Texas and not think the world of all women. It always baffled Jake that other men didn’t think the same. That other men could even think of harming a woman.

Jake eventually caught the eye of your ex. He threw in a smirk for good measure. Jake made sure to look back to you to piss him off. And it worked. Almost instantly Jake noticed his red hoodie begin to walk around the bar. He knew this was going to be too good now.

“You fucking my girl?”

Jake grinned, loving every second of this, “Don’t think she’s your girl anymore.”

“Yes she is.” His nostrils flared in an attempt to intimidate Jake, you knew that wasn’t going to happen though.

Shaking his head casually Jake stood from his bar stool finally getting a good look at him. You knew Jake was taller than him, but you didn’t realize just how much. Taking a defensive stance, he eyed the man up and down cracking a smile when he met his eyes again, “Not according to Y/N, you’re not.”

“And you believe the little bitch?” He puffed his chest out not backing down from Jake. You had to hand it to the stupid man, he sure didn’t know when to call it quits.

Jake slowly shook his head, “I reckon you apologize to her.”

He laughed, a full on belly laugh. Getting a kick out of that one. You couldn’t rip your eyes from the scene unfolding before you, neither could the other aviators who had grown quiet observing the interaction between the two men. It was still busy enough that nobody paid them any mind, yet.

“For what?”

Jake didn’t break his stare down on the coward, “You know what for.”

He smirked somehow feeling like he had the upper hand in this argument, “I’m just putting my girl back in her place. Mind your own damn business.”

Realizing this was likely going to escalate you waved down Penny to try and figure out what to do. She waved you off letting you know that it was okay. She didn’t mind a fight in her bar.

“No, see I have a problem with that. Where I’m from a man never lays a hand on a woman.” Jake spoke as coolly as you’ve ever seen him. You just knew you were about to witness some shit go down.

He laughed, “And where I’m from she’s lucky it wasn’t worse.”

Eyes widening at that you actually felt fear from the man for the first time. Had he manipulated you that bad in the relationship that you couldn’t see what a true monster he was? Sure, it was only a few months but at one point you genuinely liked the guy. Now he was sitting here threating to hurt you even further.

Jake saw your fear in his peripherals. He took a step back towards you letting you know that he’s got you covered. He wouldn’t let this so called man hurt you again.

“Touch her again and you’ll understand just how nice we treat men like you.”

“I will do whatever the fuck I want to do to her. She’s mine.”

Your skin was crawling now, breaking out into chills all throughout your body. You definitely had to have missed some big red flags in the relationship.

The other aviators noticed the altercation wasn’t dying down but firing up. You noticed the one that helped him drag the unconscious man out of the bar last week was slowly making his way over to Jake.

“That’s just not going to happen.”

He then placed his pointer finger on Jakes chest, “Like I said. You don’t tell me what the fuck I can do.”

“You have 2 seconds to remove your hand.” He glared coldly.

“One.” Payback spoke up stepping closer to the scene crossing his arms over his chest. Having Jake’s back, “Two.”

Your stupid ex didn’t have a clue apparently because he smugly stood there. How he could be so cocky was beyond you, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Jake spoke. Catching a faint grin, he cocked his head to the side giving him one last chance to step back.

“What are you going to do?”

Jake sighed, “This.”

With his left hand he quickly grabbed his finger bending it back until he head the snap. Your ex wailed in pain at the broken finger. That wasn’t enough for Jake though. He knew he needed to really drive this lesson home for him.

So, as he was crying in pain Jake took his right arm and punched him right under the chin sending him to the floor instantly.

For the second time in a few days another patron was knocked unconscious. Penny sighed while shaking her head opting not to worry about it. Letting the two aviators handle it.

Payback snickered, “You did warn him.”

Jake nodded, “I did. Many times.”

“Damn.” You grinned, “That was one hell of a punch.”

Jake spun on his heels smiling from ear to ear, “I took notes from the best.”

He studied you again noticing just how much more relaxed your demeanor had become when he wasn’t a direct threat anymore, “Let me see your phone.” He demanded more than asked as he walked back closer to the bar.

“What for?” You asked while handing it to him.

“If that motherfucker even looks at you weird again, you call me. Okay?” He quickly added his name to your contacts before handing it back to you.

“Okay. Thank you Jake. Really, thank you.” You leaned over the counter taking it back from him. Pausing when you realized just how close your faces were together.

“Anytime. And if you just want to talk or hang out you can call me too.”

“Really?” Your smile grew at his statement.

Nodding his head he scanned your face again, “Please do. I’m looking forward to it.” He winked before pulling back away from you.

You watched, a little speechless, as the two aviators dragged your good for nothing ex out of the bar and hopefully far away from your life.

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idkwhatimdoinghere1655 · 1 year ago

Text

Save A Dance - Max Verstappen

You sat in your Monganesque apartment, gazing out of the floor-to-ceiling windows that had first caught your eye when Max brought you to the apartment. It was nice to have some quiet time, since, when you weren't working, you were taking care of Aleta.

She went to daycare from Monday to Friday, and that gave you chance to work from home. Christian had allowed you to do that since you had moved to Monaco, since your job allowed you to do so.

All you had to do was come up with ideas, schedule them, let the PR team know when and where they were going to be, and sign off on the final product. Even if it sounded like a lot, it got easier as time went on.

Now, it was the first Saturday of the summer break and you had been left to have a day by yourself. Max had taken Aleta to play with Nico's daughter for a few hours since they were a similar age. Max and Nico weren't overly close, but they had been getting more friendly because of their daughters.

You started the day off by sleeping in for a few more hours, and you felt nice and lively because of it. You had taken your time getting out of bed, bringing your breakfast back to bed with you and watching TV.

Looking around the room, you remembered waking up to Max crouched down beside you and telling you he had made dinner those few years ago. That exact pasta dish had become a family favourite and Aleta always asked for it when Max made dinner.

Then, you had lightly cleaned around the house, before settling on the couch for a few hours reading a book. After a while, you put the book down and your eyes stared out of the windows and down at the marina.

The view got better each time you looked at it, and the sight of the sun glittering on the blue waters was mesmerizing. It relaxed you slightly, since the seconds ticked down until Max got home.

You weren't able to keep the news from Max any longer and you looked forward to the priceless look on his face when you told him. The last time someone had heard, your heart was shattered. But now, you knew you were going to make him the happiest man in the world.

As if by magic, the elevator doors dinged open and closed, and you heard the footsteps of your three (nearly four) year old daughter padding across the floor behind you. "Mama!" she shrieked, hopping on the couch next to you and crawling into your lap.

"Hey, sweetheart. How was your day?" you asked, watching the grin on your daughters face. From behind, Max kissed your head and wrapped his arms around your shoulders. Aleta told you about the ice cream they went to get, and the games she played with Nico's daughter.

She skipped away to her room for a bit before dinner, and Max came to sit down next to you. "How was your day, liefde?" he asked, gently pulling you into his side.

"Very quiet and relaxing. How was Nico?" you asked, since you hadn't spoken to the driver in a while. "Yeah, he's good. She had a great time," he smiled.

You stood, wiggling out of Max's grip. "Where are you going?" he asked, as you closed the door to the hallway so that you'd know if Aleta was coming. "I need to talk to you," you said, sitting back down next to him and turning to face him.

"You alright?" he asked, placing a comforting hand on your thigh.

"Yeah, I'm great, actually," you nodded, unable to contain yourself any longer, "I guess I just wanted to ask if you're willing to build another crib?" you asked, watching as the penny dropped in his head.

His eyes opened in surprise as his mouth fell agape. "You- You're- Really?" he asked, trying to contain himself from jumping off the couch and leaping in the air out of pure elation. "You're pregnant?" he asked.

"Yeah," you nodded, watching as a huge, goofy smile spread across his face and his eyes lit up. He leapt off the couch and tugged you up with him, wrapping you into the biggest hug. "I'm going to be a dad, again!" he exclaimed, wanting to run down the street, yelling that his wife was having another baby.

"Thank you so much," he mumbled into your hair, the feeling of pure joy and happiness filling his veins. This was how he felt when Aleta was born, and it didn't compare to anything else in the world. "Can I tell Aleta?" he asked, squirming to go and get her.

"Of course you can, darling," you smiled. Having someone so happy to be having a child with you was something you so sorely missed out on when Scott found out about Aleta. Max was overjoyed and you knew he would be there through every step of the way.

Raising Aleta with Max was wonderful, and you knew that you were going to raise another brilliant little person with him. Max went to Aleta's room and came out with her on his hip. "Schatje, Mommy and I need to talk to you," he said, sitting back down and setting her down on his lap.

"Okay," she said, looking at you in confusion.

"You're going to be a big sister," he said, and the little girl just looked even more confused. Her blonde eyebrows knitted together in perplexion, and you could see the cogs turning in her brain. "Where is the baby?" she asked Max, looking up at him with her big blue eyes.

"Right there, in Mommy's tummy," he told her, pointing to your stomach. Aleta leant over and pointed her finger next to Max's. "But how does it fit?"

You and Max couldn't help but giggle at her question, and she seemed really interested. "The baby is really small at the moment, but it's going to grow and grow until they're ready to come and see you," you explained, and she nodded.

"I'm going to be the best big sister ever!" she giggled, bouncing on Max's knee. "I'll show her how to use the swings, how to braid her hair, how to make cookies," she rambled, and Max's heart was melting at how excited she was at having a little sibling.

"You might be getting a little brother, Leta," you smiled, watching as her face dropped.

"Ew no!" she scoffed, her face contorting into disgust. You laughed and Max looked offended. You knew he loved having his girls and taking care of you, but he definitely wanted a son as well. He had taken Aleta karting, but she was too young to enjoy it and had already said she wasn't really interested in being like daddy.

He wouldn't force any of his children into racing, but maybe his son would take more influence from his father and want to try it. Plus, Aleta had said that if she ever did race, it would be for Ferrari since Uncle Charlie had given her the Ferrari Barbie for her birthday.

You had wanted to steal it off of her, since it was completely unopened and a vintage that he had found and probably paid way more than he should have for it. When she was momentarily distracted with the custom Red Bull Barbie Max had gotten her, you had put it on the top shelf so that she couldn't reach it.

As much as she was her father's daughter, she couldn't help but cheer for Uncle Charlie when racing, even if she was sat in the Red Bull garage when watching.

When you told everyone about the newest addition, they were overjoyed and all offered to take Aleta out if you guys needed a moment. Aleta always made an impression everywhere you went, and everyone loved her. "Do you not want a little brother?" Max asked.

"No Daddy, I don't," she scoffed, almost offended that he would ask such a question. Max had his perfect family right in front of him, and he didn't think he would be able to wait for nearly seven months to meet his new bundle of joy.

—

"Max, it hurts," you whined, sitting on the bed rubbing your swollen stomach. You were a lot bigger than you were when you were pregnant with Aleta, and you were having a much harder time than you were with Aleta.

"I know, liefde, I know," he said. Max had been an absolute trooper over these past couple of days. He was pretty much taking full care of Aleta and you, since you had been having Braxton Hicks contractions on and off.

It was late, and since you weren't sleeping, neither was he. He took a seat next to you on the edge of the bed, his hand soothingly trailing up and down your back. "Is there anything I can do?" he asked, his heart breaking to see you in that much pain.

You just shook your head as a few tears slipped down your flushed cheeks. "You should go to bed, you've got an early start tomorrow," you told him, not wanting him to be tired for training tomorrow. "As long as you're awake, so am I," he smiled, wanting to take on the pain for you.

"Max, you should really go to bed. I'll be fine," you said.

"Hey, look at me," he sighed, and you could feel his eyes burning holes into the side of your face as he stared at you. You didn't want to look at him, you felt bad. "Y/N, look at me," he said, less softly this time.

Huffing to himself, he shifted off of the bed and crouched down in front of you, placing his hands on your thighs. "You are having our baby. Another stunning member to our family. It kills me that there is nothing I can do to help you, so the least I can do is stay with you when you need me," he told you, his hand reaching up to wipe away some of the stray tears off your cheeks.

"I think I'm going to have a shower, then I'm going to try and get back to sleep," you told him, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his forehead. You were so grateful that he was there, and you could never repay him for what he was doing.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a small, pink object appear in the door. "Hey, Leta," you said, alerting Max to her presence.

"Are you OK, schatje?" Max asked, moving to kneel down in front of Aleta.

"I had a nightmare," she quietly mumbled, and you could tell she had been crying.

"OK, let's get you back to bed," Max said, picking her up and walking out of the room with her. While he was gone, you started running the shower and setting a towel out.

Meanwhile, Max had tucked Aleta back into bed and was just about to leave the room and head back to you. "Daddy?" her small voice said.

"Yeah?" Max replied, honestly wanting her to just go to sleep so that he could help you out.

"Is Mommy OK?" she asked. She had seen you, sitting on the bed crying while Max tried to console you, and tonight wasn't the first time. "She's fine, Leta. Just struggling with your baby brother or sister," he explained.

"Tell them to stop it," she sternly said, and he could tell she meant it.

"I will, schatje, I will," he smiled, closing the door behind him and he jogged down the hall to your room. You weren't there, and he could hear the shower running in the bathroom.

When he walked in, you had your back to him and you let the warm water soothe you. It may have only been slightly, but it still helped. As Max undressed, he heard a sharp intake of breath and saw a sudden movement out of the corner of his eye as another false contraction ripped through you.

You held yourself up with one arm on the wall as you closed your eyes and tried to wait for the pain to pass. "I'm sorry, liefde, I'm sorry," he said, scrambling into the shower with you. Max ran his fingers up and down your spine, trying to figure out what he could do to help.

"It's not your fault," you weakly smiled as the pain subsided.

"It pretty much is," he smirked, earning a small giggle from you. Pushing yourself off the wall, Max wrapped his arms around your waist and let his hand gently rub over your stomach. Peppering a few kisses down your neck, the pair of you just stood there, the water washing over you.

After a while, Max stepped out of the stream of water and grabbed a towel out of the cabinet. As you stepped out, he wrapped it around you and let you dry yourself off. Max left to get some clean clothes, but you had something you needed to say to him right now.

"Max?" you called.

"You alright?" he asked, and he appeared in front of you in a flash.

"Thank you," you said, placing your hands on his shoulders and pecking him on the cheek.

"For what?" he asked, resting his hands on your waist.

"For being here," you said, as if it were an obvious fact to thank him for. If anything, he was saddened by the fact that you felt you needed to thank him for being here.

"There's nowhere else I would rather be than here, with my children, and the woman who makes me the happiest man in the world. You have given me the gift of our two gorgeous babies, the least thing I can do is help you," he smiled, grabbing your hand and taking you through to your room.

Finally, you could both get into bed and go to sleep, ready for the days ahead.

—

"Leta, you are going to have such a good time," you tried to convince the now five year old Leta that she would enjoy her first day at school. Max wasn't there, and that was definitely playing on her mind. He was at a race this week, and he felt absolutely awful that he couldn't hold her hand as he walked through the door.

"I don't want to go, Mommy," she said, snuggling into your legs. You knelt down to look at her, all smart in her uniform. "Sweetheart, if you go in there and try your absolute best, we can go for ice-cream, alright?" you said. You knew the bribery of ice cream would make her try, and that was exactly what happened.

You walked her in, leaving her with her teacher. She walked in there smiling, and that was all that mattered to you. Now, you had some more time to yourself to work.

It was getting harder and harder to think of something for them to do, since they had already done everything. So, you would be making them do a classic Australian BBQ at the Australian GP. It would be fun to see, and Daniel hosting would always lend to some good content.

Just as you had taken your lunch break, your phone started ringing. Max's name flashed across the top of the screen, and you couldn't wait to talk to him. "Hey," you said, hearing people in the background. "Hey, liefde," Max chirped, "How's your day been?" he asked.

Yes, he did care about how your day was going, but he was really asking how Aleta's first day had gone. "Pretty standard, to be honest. Aleta wasn't too happy to go, but I said if she went and gave it her own, I'd take her and Ruben for ice cream," you told him.

"I'm so sorry I'm not there," he said, sighing.

"Max, don't be. These things happen, and she gets that Daddy can't always be there," you explained.

"I know, but I wish I was there," he whined.

"So do I, but you'll get to talk to her later," you said, and you could hear voices in the background. "Charles, one minute," you heard Max whisper-shout, and you couldn't help but giggle. "Charles wants to talk to you, is that alright?" he asked.

"Of course," you said, listening as the phone was passed over to the man from Monaco.

"Hey, Y/N! How was my darling niece's first day?" he asked. As much as Max hated to admit it, Charles was pretty much Aleta's favourite one of her inherited uncles. Max's dislike was purely because he was a Ferrari driver - at least Daniel was still in the Red Bull family.

"It was good, I promised her I'd take her for ice cream later," you told him.

"Well, tell her Uncle Charlie loves her and is very proud of her. Oh, and tell her we'll have to go for one of our special lunches when I get back," he said. You smiled to yourself. You had so many brilliant people around you who loved you and your children and who filled their lives with happiness and positivity.

"Is Ruben there or is he out?" he asked. Recently, it had been a war between Max and Charles to see which team your son would support. Currently, Ruben just went along with whatever Max said, but he had been following more in Aleta's footsteps with being a Ferrari girl.

"He's at daycare,"

"Well then tell him we'll go for a boys day out also when I get back. I'll even let him touch the steering wheel of the Spider," he said. Yes, Max took him driving, but Uncle Charlie's Ferrari was his favourite. "You spoil them, Charles," you laughed.

"Of course I do, they are my precious niece and nephew, they deserve to be spoiled," he scoffed, as if you didn't think your children deserved to be spoiled. "They are spoiled enough at home," you said, not wanting your children to become prima donnas.

"I'm sure a day out with their favourite Uncle isn't any harm," Charles said, and you could hear people bickering in the background. "Not a chance you are their favourite, Charles," you heard what sounded like Daniel yell. "Come on, Uncle Carlito is their favourite," Carlos argued.

"Where the hell are you all?" you asked, knowing that they weren't all always together.

"We're waiting for the interviewer to get here," Charles explained, the battle of the Uncles continuing in the background. "Max wants the phone back, so I'll let you go. See you soon, Y/N, tell the kids I love them!" he said, as Max wrestled the phone away from him.

"Listen, liefde, I'm going to have to go. Charles has started a full blown civil war in here," he laughed and you could hear the arguments ensuing. "Ruben may get to touch the wheel of your Ferrari, but Aleta gets to drive my tractor when she's at mine," Daniel argued. You always wondered where he took her when she was in Australia.

"Sorry, she what?" Max asked over the noise, and you thought it would be best to let him go.

"Max, I will talk to you later," you laughed, putting the phone down. You smirked to yourself as you thought about how much better off you actually were without Scott. If you didn't have Max, Aleta and Ruben wouldn't be growing up with that many people who love them and treasure them.

You wouldn't change your entire family (even all of the self proclaimed favourite uncles) for the world, and Scott leaving was a blessing in disguise.

—

"Leta, what flavour do you want?" You asked as you stood at the counter of your favourite ice-cream place in Monaco. "Can I get a chocolate sundae?" she asked, batting her thick eye lashes at you. "Just because you've done so well," you agreed as she clapped in excitement.

Holding her hand was Ruben, who was a literal spitting image of Max. Aleta obviously looked more like you, but Ruben was Max's son. He was so much like him as well, even if he was only young.

You ordered the ice cream and took a seat in one of the booths. "So, Leta, tell me about what you did today," you said.

"I did some colouring, and they have the coolest sandpit!" she gushed, her eyes lighting up at how good of a time she had had. "Did you make any friends?"

"Bella's Daddy really likes racing cars, and I told her about my Daddy's job and she said it was really cool!" she said, and something about Bella felt really good to you inside. "Me and Bella played in the sandpit," she said, and you already knew she had found a friend.

"I've got the chocolate sundae?" the waitress said, and Aleta excitedly put her hand up and the girl placed the sundae in front of her. There was no chance she was going to finish it herself, so you were ready and waiting for your turn.

"And a vanilla milkshake?" she asked, and Ruben just started smiling at her. She placed it down and he started sucking at the straw. "Leta, smile for Daddy," you said, taking your phone out of your pocket and snapping a picture of your daughter with her mammoth of a sundae in front of her.

You also snapped a picture of Ruben slurping away at his milkshake and sent them to Max. 'Waiting for the sugar rush... You're going to have a tough night,' he replied.

'It's nothing I can't handle ;)' you replied, sighing as you saw all of the ice cream and chocolate sauce around Aleta's mouth. As predicted, she was finished around half way through her sundae and you took it off her and cleared it. It was amazing, and you were surprised she had as much as she did.

"Uncle Charlie told me to tell you that he is so proud of you after today and that he loves the both of you," you said, and both of them smiled at the mention of the Monganesque. "He also said you can go for a special lunch when he gets back," you said to Aleta.

"And you can go in the Ferrari," you said to Ruben.

"Ferrari!" he squealed, and that was one of his favourite pastimes.

"Uncle Danny and Uncle Carlito also say hi," you said, and the kids both smiled. You really wondered who they'd say if you told them to pick a favourite.

You took your children home, putting Ruben down for a short nap before dinner since he was tired. Aleta had gone to her room to play for a bit and have some time to herself.

You opened your phone to some texts from Max, and it made you smile as he always did. 'Hey liefde. Was just thinking about you and how brilliant you are. I truly don't know how you manage to be so incredible at everything. Our kids are the luckiest in the world, and I am the luckiest man to have you by my side. I love you and I miss you so so so much. I'll call you later x'.

It was the little things like this that made you love him even more every day. He was perfect in every way, and you missed him so much when he wasn't around.

After dinner, you asked the kids to wait on the couch while you spoke to Max yourself for a bit. "Hey, darling,"

"Hello my love," he said, and you could tell he was tired by the flatness in his voice, but he was happy nonetheless. "How did the civil war end?" you asked.

"Basically, Charles, Daniel and Carlos were all arguing, then Checo decided to stir the pot and get involved. We had to end it by saying that I am their favourite, and Charles even tried to dispute that, but it has been settled. For now," he laughed.

"How's your day been?"

"It's been tiring, and the argument didn't help, but I'm talking to you so it's all good," he said, and you wondered if he could get anymore perfect. "I have been missing you loads today," he pouted, changing the call to a FaceTime.

"What, you don't miss me normally?" you teased, watching as he cringed at himself.

"Of course I do, but I've missed waking up next to you more this week," he said, lying back on his hotel room bed. "Do you want to see the babies?" you asked, and his smile lit up as he zealously nodded.

"Guys, say hi to Daddy," you said, sitting in between Aleta and Ruben.

"Hi Daddy!" Aleta smiled, waving at the camera as Max waved back to them. "Did you see my ice-cream?" she asked.

"I did, and I heard that you were very brave on your first day,"

"I was," she triumphantly stated with all the confidence in the world. "Me and Bella played in the sand pit," she smiled, and you could tell she was buzzing to go back the next day.

"Who's Bella?" Max asked.

"Bella is my new friend. Her Daddy like racing cars and I told her about you and she said you were really cool," she gushed, her voice dripping with admiration for her Dad.

"Well that's good. Are you excited for tomorrow?"

"Yeah," she said as Ruben just stared off into the distance.

"Sweetheart, why don't you go and get your book and start reading before we go to bed?" you said, seeing how both of the children were tired. "I'll let you guys go and I'll talk to you tomorrow," Max said, not really wanting to put the phone down.

"Max, can I call you back in half an hour?" you asked, also not wanting him to go just yet. Max nodded and sat there, waiting for you come back.

After tucking Ruben in, you listened to Aleta read for ten minutes before kissing her goodnight and going back to your bedroom. The phone didn't even ring before Max picked up, his tired face filling the screen.

"What have you got on tomorrow?" you asked, completely forgetting the entire F1 weekend schedule. "Just FP1 and FP2, so nothing too major. I'm going to have lunch with the team as well so we can have a debrief and relax before qualis and everything,"

"That'll be nice," you yawned, rapidly blinking to try and wake yourself up a bit.

"You need to go to bed, liefde," he said, knowing you were pretty much run off your feet with how long your days were. You got the kids ready, dropped them where they needed to be, worked for the day, picked them up and spent the night entertaining them. Then, you were falling asleep as soon as Aleta's light went out.

"I think I will," you agreed.

"Are you sure it's not too much?" he asked. He had offered to get you a nanny or a maid to assist with some of the things that took up most of your time, like taking the kids to school. But, you wanted to do it yourself and spend those extra minutes with them.

"It's all part of parenthood, Maxie," you told him, slipping into your pajamas. "I love you, and I miss you," you said, battling to keep your eyes open.

"I miss you too, my love. Have a good sleep and I'll talk to you tomorrow,"

"Go and smash it in FP1 and 2, but I know you will," you said, putting the phone down. You pretty much fell asleep as soon as the phone was set down on the bedside table.

—

"There's no point in me going if Dad isn't going to be there," Aleta said as you tried to persuade her to get into her dress for the dance at school. Normally, she loved going to all of the events that school offered, but tonight was different.

Tonight was the Father Daughter dance, and Max was away. His flight was late that night, and her couldn't get home in time. He had profusely apologised to Aleta and promised to make it up to her, but it wasn't the same.

You had exhausted every option of people to go with her, since all of her uncles were away as well and everyone else was busy. In the end, you had to go with her just so she had someone. "You'll have me," you meekly smiled, trying to cheer her up a bit.

"I know, but it's not the same," she trailed off, trying not to hurt your feelings. She was grateful that you were going with her, but it wasn't the same as having Max there. Ruben had gone home with one of his friends and was staying over so that he was out of the house.

You had given Aleta a fully girls night in while you got ready, and she did really enjoy herself. You made her her favourite dinner, and bought her favourite snacks. You even made chocolate covered strawberries while she was at school.

Then, you curled her hair and did her makeup like she had wanted you to do, and helped pick a dress and accessories to wear. You then got dolled up, probably more than you should have for a school event, but Aleta had insisted that you went full glam.

"I know, but we're going to go and have the best time we can," you bargained, looking at how pretty she looked and it would be a shame to not go out. "OK, I'm going to text Bella and see what time she's getting there," she said, picking her phone off her bed.

"We'll go in ten, alright?" you said. She nodded as you closed the door and retreated to your bedroom to get your shoes from the wardrobe. As you buckled the clasps on your ankles, you phone started vibrating on the table.

There was no need to check, you knew who it was. "Hey, darling," you said, picking the phone up and putting it on speaker. "Hey, liefde. How's Leta?" he asked, and you could hear the guilt in his tone.

"She's alright, she doesn't want to go without you, but Mom will have to do," you half-heartedly chuckled, slipping the next heel onto your foot. "I feel so bad," he groaned, and you knew he did. He had told you every time you had spoken in the past week that he felt awful.

"I know, Max. She understands you have to work," you said, even though Aleta had complained to you multiple times about how she didn't like Max's job. "Tell her I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"I will. I've got to go now, Max. I'll send you pictures later," you said, dropping your phone into your bag and walking down to Aleta's room as your heels clicked on the floor. "You ready to go, sweetheart?" you asked knocking on the door.

"Yeah," she came out, her bag over her shoulder. You swiped the car keys out of the safe, since Max had told you to take whichever car you wanted since he felt bad. As you drove, you could tell Aleta was imagining Max in your place, but you didn't mind.

Pulling into the school car park, you opened the door for her. "You look stunning, Leta," you complimented, watching as she smiled at your comment. "Shall we?" you asked, extending an arm out to her. She took it as the pair of you walked through the doors.

Since you were a bit early, you let Aleta go off and find Bella as you spotted her Dad (Andrea) at a table. You felt very out of place among all of the Fathers in suits, but you were glad to be there. "Hi, Y/N," he said as you took a seat next to him.

"Hey," you said, watching as Aleta and Bella danced together on the dancefloor, laughing at each other. "Max away?" he asked. He already knew the answer, because he was already planning on asking if Aleta wanted to dance to make her feel better, but he wouldn't have to.

"Yeah, he wishes he could be here but the devil never rests, and neither does Max Verstappen," you joked, spotting even more parents flooding through the door with their kids. "What time does he fly back?" Andrea asked.

"It was at 2, so he should be on the plane already," you told him, gazing around the hall. The school had made it look very nice, with glittery lights and vibrant decorations. "You sure his flight isn't earlier?" Andrea queried, eyes flitting towards the door.

"No, it shouldn't be," you said, following his gaze. Nothing happened, though. "Is it alright for me to dance with Aleta later?" Andrea asked, smile faltering slightly.

"Yeah, I think she'd appreciate that," you nodded.

"How did you two meet?"

"I was working with him when he was on media duties and that kind of stuff. We started talking more when Aleta's father broke up with me," you explained. Everyone (including Aleta) knew that Max wasn't her real father, but it wasn't a big deal. "And he was there for me from day one, and things sparked from there,"

"Well you're very lucky," he smirked, and you felt like something was up.

"I really am,"

"You think he'd fly across the world in the most cramped seat economy class has to offer for you?" you looked at him, eyebrows wrinkled in confusion. It wasn't the normal type of question that someone would ask you. "Yeah, he would," you hesitantly agreed.

"I think you'd be right about that," Andrea smiled, nodding towards the door. Behind a flurry of Dads with their daughters, walked in a blonde man with that glint in his smile that you had fallen oh so in love with.

You sprung from your seat and jogged through the dancefloor, flinging your arms around his neck. "You're here," you whispered, as if you were verifying that he was real and not some figment of your imagination.

"I just couldn't miss it," he whispered back.

—

"Max, we're only going to be able to set off at seven," Max's pilot told him. That just wasn't going to work for him, unfortunately. "I have to be there at seven," he replied, checking his watch. He had gotten at the airport for seven am so that he could board his plane as soon as possible.

But, today was very busy for some reason and the air wasn't clear until seven. "Wait here," Max said, stomping through the airport to the check-in desk. "Hi, sorry, do you have any seats on any flight going to Nice Côte d'Azur Airport from now to nine?" he asked the lady.

"We've got an economy class seat on a plane that sets off at eight?" she said, checking the system for the flights they had. "Yeah, that's perfect," he replied. Max paid for the seat and went back to the lounge to collect his luggage.

"Whenever you can, can you get the plane to Nice?" he asked, knowing he'd need the plane at home for the next race. "Of course, enjoy your flight," the man smiled, letting Max go.

Max steam rolled his way through the airport and boarded the plane. He found his seat, and he was less than impressed. It was a middle seat with two strangers on either side and there was nowhere near enough leg room for him. But, if it meant getting back to you and Aleta in time, it was worth it.

He spent the next nine hours, fidgeting about in discomfort, counting down the seconds until he could get off the plane and get a taxi home.

After nearly ten hours of traveling, Max wandered through the door to an empty penthouse. After a refreshing shower, he dressed himself in one of his suits and made sure he looked fit for his daughter's first school dance.

Checking the time, he realised he'd be dead on time if he set off instantly, and that was exactly what he did.

Once he arrived, he strolled through the doors, and he spotted some parents not-so-secretly ogling him as they clearly knew who he was. He had texted Andrea and told him he'd be there so that he could distract you when he pulled into the car park.

Now, Andrea had set it up so that you were watching as he walked through. You sprung from your seat and jogged over to him. His eyes were stuck on you as you came to him.

He had seen you in dresses before, but there was just something about the way the loose fabric hung off your hips that made him crazy. Then again, you could have been wearing a trash bag and he would have thought you looked amazing.

"You're here," you whispered into his ear, and he was so glad to be holding you again and he was just happy to talk to you in person again.

"I just couldn't miss it," he whispered back, closing his eyes and embracing the moment. "You go sit with Andrea, I'll go get Aleta," you clapped, not able to wait for her reaction.

Max did as he was told and sat with Andrea, thanking him for going along with the plan that was very hastily set out. But, when he saw you and Aleta in the corner, he stood and waited for his girls to come over.

"Hey Bella," you smiled at the dark haired girl. As you suspected, the girls had become fast friends and had stayed that way ever since. It was safe to say they were best friends for ever.

"Hey, Y/N," she sweetly greeted. Recently, she had practically lived at your house and she was a joy to have around.

"Leta, I've got you something at the table," you said, barely able to contain the surprise. "OK," she said, and you could tell she was skeptical at your giddiness.

You led her through the crowd and kept her behind you so she couldn't see. When you got there, you stepped to the side to reveal Max, and the huge smile on her face said it all.

If you could pause time and take a picture of the elation on hers and Max's face, you would have.

"Dad!" she happily squealed, turning a few heads as she ran up to Max, leaping into his arms. "You're actually here," she cried, burying her face into his neck.

"I wouldn't miss this for the world," he told her, holding his daughter tightly. Putting Aleta down, you saw how her eyes were slightly glassy.

"Oh sweetheart, don't cry," Max quietly consoled so people didn't hear. "I'm just so happy you're here," she smiled, hugging him again and taking in the scent of her dad - the smell of comfort.

"Well I must say all three of you are looking gorgeous tonight," he said to you, Bella and Aleta. Reaching into his pocket, Max produced three pastel coloured roses.

The blue one was handed to Bella, and she beamed at Max. "Thank you, Max," she smiled.

"Not a problem, Bells,"

Tucking the purple flower behind Aleta's ear, she couldn't stop smiling. Giving her a soft kiss on the cheek, he whispered something to her and she started giggling profusely and blushing.

One of the few slow songs of the night came on, and Andrea offered his arm out to Bella, which she took and they strolled away. "I'll be one second, Leta," Max said, and she waited and nodded.

"You look breathtaking, liefde," he complimented, placing the pink flower behind your ear, "And you look unbelievably handsome tonight," you said back, stealing a quick kiss on the lips.

"Really guys? Here?" Aleta joked, earning hearty chuckles from all of you.

"May I have this dance, my lady?" Max poshly asked, extending an arm out to Aleta. "You may, good sir," she responded, and you lost them to the crowd.

"You look incredible, schatje." Max smiled at his beautiful girl.

"Thanks Dad," she responded, still not fully believing that he was actually there, dancing with her.

You stayed in your seat, watching as two of your three favourite people laughed and smiled at the fun they were having. Aleta currently had her feet on top of Max's and was gripping onto him for dear life to stop herself from falling over.

You wished you had Ruben here to make it a full set, but tonight was about Aleta, and you were happy to sit and watch.

As the night drew on, Bella danced with Max for a bit, and Aleta had a go with Andrea and you had declared yourself as photographer for the night. You didn't just take pictures of Aleta, Bella, Max and Andrea, you offered to take pictures of the other Dads and daughters around.

By the end of the night, your camera roll was nearly full of pictures of smiling pairs, dancing or pulling silly faces at the camera. You were stood in the corner, snapping some shots of everyone for the school website.

"I wondered where you'd gone," a voice beside you said, leaning against the wall next to you.

"I was just getting some more pictures," you said, glancing at Max beside you. As the colourful lights hit his face, it made his eyes stand out - they were nearly glowing. To say he'd just spent the whole day traveling, he looked as good as ever.

Turning and catching him off guard, you captured the perfect still image of him, leaning against the wall as the strobe lights flashed. It was the perfect lighting for him, and it encapsulated most of the things you loved about him.

"Do you want to dance?" he asked, nodding over to the slightly empty dance floor. Most people had sat down for a bit and were having a drink or nibbling on snacks. "Thank you, but this isn't the place. Tonight is all about Leta," you smiled, and he respected the rejection.

For the final dance of the night, the pairings filtered back onto the dance floor as you sat and watched. As people took their places, you couldn't see Max and Aleta anywhere. You had spotted Bella and Andrea, but your two were nowhere to be seen.

Out of nowhere, Aleta appeared through the middle of the crowd, holding her hand out to you. "Where's your Dad?" you asked, eyes darting around the room to try and locate Max.

As if on cue, Max appeared next to you and took a seat. "This one is for you, liefde," he said, motioning for you to go with Aleta.

"But tonight is about you two," you dismissed.

"If it wasn't for you, then I wouldn't be here, and you look too pretty to not have at least one dance," Aleta complimented, and there was no resisting her sweet words. You took to the dance floor with your daughter, waltzing around the place like a couple out of a Disney movie.

Finally, the music ended and everyone retreated from the dance floor, collecting their belongings and making their way out of the doors. "Mom, can I go home with Bella?" Aleta asked, latching onto your arm. "Did Andrea say you can?"

"Yeah, I did. She can borrow some of Bella's stuff," Andrea chipped in from behind you.

"Then yes, you can," you said to Aleta, quickly smirking at Max. For the first time in ages, you were going to get the house all to yourselves. You said your goodbyes to Andrea, Bella and Leta, before hopping into your seperate cars and speeding home.

Max got there first, and you found him stood in the kitchen, still in his suit as the speaker in the corner played some soft, oldies music. "Is now the right time for a dance, my love?" he asked, looking you up and down. "I'd say it is, yeah,"

He pulled you close, and you rested your head on his chest. Max peppered some kisses on the top of your head as you swayed to the music. "I thought you'd be all danced out," you laughed, looking up at him.

"I'll always save a dance for you, my darling ," he mumbled, losing his train of thought as he looked at you. His hand squeezed your waist, tugging you impossibly closer to him. "Did I tell you how gorgeous you look?" he mumbled into your hair.

"Did I tell you how handsome you look?" you replied as the song came to close. You both carried on swaying in silence for a short while, slowly manoeuvring towards the hallway that lead to your bedroom. "What do you say we try out for number three?" he said, glancing over to the door.

"I like the sound of the process, but not the outcome," you said. That was probably the weirdest way to say you didn't want another child, but Max got what you meant. "Come on, just one more. Besides, I was number 33,"

"Exactly, you're not Daniel. I just don't want to push another child out, to be blunt about it," you told him, and you could see the slight amount of sadness behind his eyes. He just wanted to hold a baby again and drive down the road of being a new parent one more time.

"I'm sorry," you said, holding a hand to his cheek. You knew he wanted one more child, but you were content with Aleta and Ruben. "Don't be, I get it," he smiled, trying to hide his disappointment from you. It was your body and completely your choice, but it didn't mean he wasn't slightly dejected.

"I am happy with our two angels already," he said, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your lips. "But I still think the process sounds fun," he smirked, causing you to turn red. Max gently pulled you with him to your room, and you certainly enjoyed the night by yourselves.

—

You were in the kitchen, making lunch for everyone when the buzzing from the intercom sounded out. Washing your hands of the tomato juices that you were cutting, you pressed the button. "Hey, Y/N, it's me," you heard the voice of Charles sounded through.

"Come on up," you unlocked the door to let him in, and he appeared from the elevator a few minutes later. "Where is everyone?" he asked, looking around.

"Aleta is with Bella, they've just gotten back from getting themselves some ice cream. Max and Ruben are still getting ready," you said. "You want a coffee or something?"

"No, but thanks. Do you need any help?" he offered.

"No, you can sit down," you said, and Charles took a seat at the island in the middle of the kitchen. "How's a caesar salad sounding for lunch?"

"Sounds great," he said, his head turning to see Max and Ruben emerging from the hall. Max had been trying to fit Ruben into one of his old race suits so that he would feel extra special during their boys day out.

"Look at you, future world champ!" Charles exclaimed. Thankfully, Ruben had taken a great interest in racing and had started karting when he was five and was getting really good. He had been taking part in some competitions recently, and he was handling himself well.

Max had his Red Bull suit on, and Charles stuck out like a sore thumb with his scarlet of the Scuderia. "I'll take lunch through to the girls, help yourselves," you smiled to the boys, plating up a portion of salad and some buttered baguette for the girls.

You got back to see all three of then tucking in happily, enjoying what you had made. "You guys going now?" you said, taking away the dirty dishes.

"Liefde, sit down, I'll do it," Max said, snatching the plates of you and gently nudging you towards his seat. "You guys go, you should be taking advantage of all the track time you can get," you told them, watching as Ruben sprung from his chair and grabbed Charles' hand, dragging him towards the elevator. "Let's go, Uncle Charlie!"

"Thanks for lunch, Y/N. You'll have to come round for dinner at mine sometime soon!" he collared as the elevator doors dinged close. "You should go and catch up with him before he talks Charles into something," you laughed.

"Good idea, I'll see you later," he said, kissing you and scampering off after Ruben and Charles.

—

"I told you I'd beat you," Charles stuck his tongue out at Ruben as your son hopped out of his kart, looking utterly dejected. "But you're a karting champion, I'm not," he sulked. taking his helmet.

"Oh you will be, I know you will," Charles reassured.

"Do you want to go again? 5 laps, first one across the line wins?" Charles asked him as Max pulled up. "Charles I swear to god the next time you push me off the track will be your last!" he huffed, clambering out of the kart and hobbling over to the group.

"All is fair in love and racing, Max," Charles giggled childishly with Ruben. "Come on, we're going for 5 more laps," Charles said, running off to get back in his kart. Max just sighed and shook his head. When Charles was around the kids, he was just a big kid himself.

Max decided he was going to race this one, and he wasn't going to show the Monganesque any mercy. Max, Charles and Ruben lined up on the start line, ready to race like their lives depended on it. "On your marks," Max started.

"Get set!" Charles added.

"Go!" Ruben finished, everyone zooming off the line in record time. They veered around the bends, hurtling down the straights. Ruben had the edge into the first turn, Max and Charles going side by side. Max held on for dear life as his kart shuddered on the slight touch with Charles, nearly sending him flying. He could see the smirk on Charles' lips as they drove.

Ruben was a good few seconds in front of them, thinking he would have an easy win. Out of the corner of his eye, Max just saw a bright red streak careening off to the side. Briefly turning back, he saw Charles sat at a stiff halt, trying to back up from the tyre barrier. Max laughed to himself, not even contemplating stopping to help his friend.

Max was quickly catching up to Ruben as Charles positioned himself at the finish line, wanting to see a clear winner. For laps, your boys were pretty much side by side, drifting around the corners. As they crossed the line for one final lap, Charles was clapping and cheering. "Go on Ruben! Take him out!" Charles shouted, even if they probably couldn't hear him.

Down the final straight, it was father and son racing next to each other in their karts, both of them so desperate to win. Charles probably needed a photo finish to actually determine a winner, but he was pretty sure he had an idea. But, even if he did have a photo finish, he would have chosen anyway. As they both hopped out of the karts, they raced back to Charles, both needing to know who had won.

"You are the champion of the world, Mini Verstappen!" Charles happily grinned after a few seconds of perfectly calculated silence. Enough to build suspense, but not so much that it seemed like he was doing something dodgy. A huge, beaming smile spread across Ruben's face while he let out squeals of joy. Charles hoisted him up onto his shoulders nearly dropping him in the process.

"I'm going to be like you and Daddy one day, Uncle Charlie," Ruben said, Max looking up at him with pride filling his eyes.

"And who are you going to drive for?" Max asked, expecting him to say Ferrari just to annoy him.

"McLaren! Like Lando!" He said, Max and Charles both scoffing. Max would honestly rather he drove for Ferrari.

"Not a chance," Charles said as Ruben plucked his cap off his head.

"I'm going to be champion of the world," he said to himself, almost like a promise. Both of the men heard him, knowing he would one day. One day, it would be his turn in the sun just like Max and Charles. "You sure are, Ruben. You sure are," Max nodded as he spotted you pulling into the car park.

Charles and Max were going for drinks after karting, and you had agreed to pick Ruben up beforehand. When he spotted you, he wriggled off Charles' shoulders and ran over to you, jumping into your arms.

"You're getting heavy mister," you said, your muscles aching under the weight of him.

"You're not as strong as Uncle Charlie then," he said as you kissed him all over his face. Somehow, the race suit made him look even more like Max.

"Your Mom is a lot stronger than me, Rubes," Charles smiled, before waving you goodbye as they drove off for drinks.

A/N - I'm sorry this has taken so long, it has been finished for a short while but I was on holiday! There may or may not be one more part in the works if you want to see that. It'll be here a lot quicker than this one was I swear! Also, I would love some of your suggestions - I am open to anything!

Tag List!

@purplephantomwolf @glai1023-blog @halaxxxx @xcinnamongirl @mehrmonga @rd14 @taylorslovesswifties13 @theshire-isburning @babyvinnie @glow-ish @mirrorball-6 @lighttsoutlewis @adalynneva @agustdxjiminx @thecubanator2 @deepavenuecheesecake @readinsilenceplease

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#f1 #f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #f1 imagines #formula 1 imagines #fluff #formula 1 #max verstappen #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen fic #mv1 #mv1 x reader

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samaraannhan20 · 10 months ago

Text

Spencer Reid Imagine: You Have an Audience

A/N: I tried to make this timeline accurate, but after a while I realized it wasn’t and I didn’t want to change it, so just know that this does not necessarily fit the timeline of the show. In my head I was envisioning season 8 Spencer.

“Hey hun?” I call out from the bathroom where I am standing in the bathroom getting ready for bed. Spencer is right out the door in the bedroom, and I hear him close his book and get up to come walk to where I am. When he reaches the doorway he stops.

“Yeah sweetheart?”

“I don’t have work on Friday. I could bring you lunch that day,” I tell him, turning to him as I put moisturizer on.

“You want to risk your dad finding out if you come in?” he asks, with concern written on his face.

“I swear he said something about not being at work the other day,” I say, pausing and grabbing my tooth brush while thinking back on my conversations with my dad the last few days. He kisses the top of my head and then goes back to the bed to lay down and read his book. As I stand there scrubbing my teeth I realize what he had said.

“Mhe faid bhe las la pate hat ay!” I exclaim, rushing into the bedroom with my toothbrush hanging from my mouth. Spencer drops his book and laughs as he looks at me standing there looking like a madman.

“What?” he asks when he stops laughing. I hold my finger up and walk into the bathroom, rinse my mouth out, shut off the light, and go lay down in the bed. I curl up next to Spencer before repeating my sentence.

“He said he has a date with Krystall that day at lunch, so he shouldn’t be in the office when I bring you lunch. But I can call Penny tomorrow to double check,” I say, before closing his book and taking it from him, tossing it onto my night stand. “Let’s go to bed though. I have a full day tomorrow, after having parent-teacher conferences at the beginning of the week.”

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

I shove a bite of leftovers in my mouth as I pick up the phone and call Penny

“Hey Pen!” I say as Penny picks up the call.

“Hey little Rossi! What’s up?”

“Do you know if my dad is going to be at the BAU during lunch tomorrow? I was wanting to bring Spence lunch because I don’t have school, but I want to make sure my dad won’t be there.”

“Y/N! You guys still haven’t told him?” she questions.

“No. We decided the other day that we were going to tell him after our six months next week. We never doubted that we would stay together, but we wanted to be able to show it was serious before we told him. Because if we had just gotten together when we told him… well,.”

“He’d lose his cool and make you break up. Right,” she replies with a small chuckle.

“Yeah. So, he told me he would be on a date at lunch tomorrow, but before I commit to bringing Spence lunch I want to make sure he will actually be gone. And not only do you know everything, but I know he has to fill out a thing saying he’s going to be out. Which I still think is weird since it’s just lunch, but I guess it makes sense if there’s a chance he won’t be back before his lunch break is over.”

“Y/N you just rambled so hard. Let me look real quick sweet pea,” she says, and I hear her start typing away. “Yep,” she says after a second. “Looks like he will be gone for lunch tomorrow. You should be good to go.”

“Awesome, thanks Pen! Do you want a dessert or anything when I come in?”

“You know I do. Just bring me something from wherever you wind up getting takeout. I’m not picky about my desserts,” she says with a small laugh.

“Great. Thanks again Penny! I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”

“Okay! I’ll send an email downstairs warning them that you are coming. Bye!” she responds, and I say thanks and bye and then hang up the phone.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

“I overheard your dad asking Penny why you were coming in at lunch tomorrow,” Spencer says to me as we sit at my kitchen table eating dinner later that night.

“Oh crap,” I say around my bite of crab rangoon. “What did she say?” I respond after finishing chewing.

“She said you were bringing her lunch and hanging out for a bit. At which point he told her to keep you there until he got back from lunch with Krystall because he hasn’t seen you in a few weeks,” he says, shooting me a look that says more than his words did.

“I know. It is bad for me to not see him for so long, but I knew that if I saw him in person he would ask me why I seem so happy and I would immediately spill about our entire relationship because I have no backbone,” I tell him, standing up and taking my half full plate over to the counter and grabbing the saran wrap , wrapping my leftovers up.

“You’re done already?” he asks from where I left him at the table, and I don’t say anything, just nodding and then walking over to the couch and sitting down, grabbing my kindle and turning it on. I sit there silently, not even reading, just staring off into space with tears slowly falling down my face.

I hear Spencer stand up and push his chair in a few minutes later, and then I hear him walk over to me. He leans down and presses a kiss to the top of my head. He walks around the couch, setting something down on the side table before lifting my feet up and resting them on his lap as he sits down.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, taking my kindle out of my hands and setting it next to whatever he had placed on the table, and then pulling me even closer to him by my legs.

“I feel so guilty for keeping so many secrets from him. I mean he didn’t even really know my half sister, and yet they’ve formed a relationship like ours is. Or I guess used to be. When I was a kid and my mom decided she didn’t want me around anymore and sent me to live with him we built such a great relationship. And throughout high school it stayed great. And then I moved out for college and we spent less time together, and he got back together with Krystall, and I had moments where I felt her daughter and Joy were replacing me.

“Which I told him about and we fixed it and things were great again. I graduated, got a teaching job nearby, and we were great. I would spend so many nights having dinner with him, or with him and Krystall. I would go with him to visit Joy. He knew everything there was to know about me, I told him everything,” I say, wiping a tear off my face as I finish my speech.

“And then you got together with me,” Spencer says quietly. I nod, allowing another tear to fall down my face, wiping it off and then I reach out and grab Spencer’s hand.

“I don’t want you to think I regret you. Because that is the last thing I am thinking or feeling. However, I am having extended amounts of anxiety about him finding out before we tell him. I don’t think that he won’t approve, because he knows how amazing you are, you’ve been friends for so long. He sees you as a son already, and not just because you’re with his kid and probably going to be family one day,” I say, the last sentence slipping out of my mouth so easily. I knew the comment wouldn’t bother Spencer, because even though we have only been together for a little less than six months we have had the conversation already, and we both feel that we are it for each other. “But the reality we have to think about is the fact that we do have a sizable age difference, which he is not going to just let go. And he’s not going to be happy we kept it a secret for three months. And he probably won’t be happy about…” and before I can finish the last sentence Spencer cuts me off.

“Okay listen. First of all, in the long run, I’m only eight years older than you. Which isn’t bad. It just seems longer because I graduated from everything so early. And because when we met I was working with your dad and you were still in college. Yes, I’m 32 to your 24, but you have more dating experience than I do, because you went to college in your late teens and early twenties, not when you were 12. And as for the keeping it a secret for three months, I think over time he will understand why we did that. I mean he kept getting back together with Krystall from you for a good amount of time. How long was it again?”

“Like almost a year,” I say with a small laugh.

“Exactly my point. He’ll get over it,” he says, and takes my hand, pressing a small kiss to the top of it. “Now, if you’re done freaking out, I brought your food over for you. I know you weren’t actually done, that you were just anxious,” he says, reaching over to the side table, grabbing the plate and handing it to me. As I take the plate from him I lean forward pressing a kiss to his lips.

“I love you. And I appreciate you so much. I wouldn’t want anyone else to know me so well,” I tell him, before pulling away and immediately popping a bite of food into my mouth.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

“Y/N, I didn’t realize you were coming in for lunch today,” Aaron says as I carry the to-go bag full of food over to the kitchenette in the BAU.

“Yeah, I had the day off,” I say with a small smile as I put things down.

“Well, I’m assuming it’s for Penny, since your dad is out for lunch with Krystall today,” he says with a knowing smile on his face.

“Oh man. You know everything don’t you,” I say with a groan, sitting down at the table in the small kitchen area.

“Yeah. Turns out I am pretty good at my job,” he responds with a smile. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell your dad anything until you and Spencer decide to. Also, I know my opinion isn’t really the one that matters, but I think you and Spencer are a good match,” he says, patting my shoulder before walking away. I put my face in my hands and groan, before getting up and walking over to Spencer’s desk. I sit down in his chair and spin around in it, glancing around the rest of the room. Before too long I hear voices begin to drift into the room.

“Wow it smells good in here,” I hear Derek say as he walks in the room. He spots me before Spencer does, and I watch as a mischievous smile comes over his face. “Hey baby, come to bring me lunch?” he says, walking over to me and picking me up from Spencer’s chair, spinning me around before setting me on the floor and placing a loud kiss on my cheek.

“In your dreams Morgan,” I say with a laugh, walking around him to Spencer. I fling myself at him as soon as I get close enough. “Hey babe,” I say, stretching my face up to his for a quick kiss. He mumbles a hello, and I unwrap myself from him and take his hand, dragging him over to the table. “I got Italian. I was craving some chicken alfredo,” I tell him as I sit down next to him and start pulling the food out of the bag. He chuckles and helps me unload the bag, before sitting down next to me.

We sit and eat our food together, making small talk, and talking to his coworkers everytime they come up to the table we’re sitting at.

“Hey teacher lady,” Penny says to me as she sits down next to me with her lunch in her hands.

“Hey Pen,” I say, leaning over and giving her a hug. “So you told my dad I was bringing you lunch?” I ask with a small smile.

“It seemed like the best answer. Unless you wanted me to out your relationship,” she says with a shrug and a sly smile.

“Thanks Pen. Always thinking on the fly.” She shrugs again and digs into her lunch. I hand her the dessert I got her and she thanks me with a small smile. “Did he tell you when he would be back?” I ask her after a minute or two of the three of us eating in silence.

“No. Sometimes it's a longer lunch and sometimes it’s shorter. Depends on when Krystall has plans next.” I nod in understanding, and then turn my attention to Spencer.

“Do we have plans for dinner tonight?”

“Not any specific ones. It’s Friday though so I thought I could order some type of take-out for us and we could watch a movie,” he says and I nod.

“Ooh can we rent that new rom-com? I know they aren’t your favorite but I’m in the mood for one. We can watch that and then a foreign film for you,” I say, hoping the foreign film will get him to say yes.

“We don’t also have to watch a foreign film,” he says with a small laugh and shake of his head. “We can watch that new movie. I don’t have a problem with it,” he says, leaning over and kissing the top of my head. I look up at him and smile, before pulling him closer and placing a kiss on his lips.

“Aww, you guys sicken me,” Penny says in a baby voice, and I laugh, flipping her the bird and then kissing Spencer again. “Um, Y/N,” she says when I pull away from Spencer again, and I turn and look at her, not even registering the nervousness on her face.

“What Penny?” I ask with a small smile on my face, my smile growing bigger when Spencer pulls my chair closer to his and wraps his arm around me. “You have an audience,” she says in a whisper, pointing behind us. I sit up straight and glance at Spencer, grabbing his hand in mine, before hearing the tell-tale clearing of my father’s throat.

“I am not turning around,” I whisper, my hands starting to shake as I realize who exactly is standing in the doorway of the BAU. “He can’t do anything if I don’t even turn and look at him,” I say even quieter than before. Spencer squeezes my hand, looking down at his food, and Penny’s eyes keep darting from him to me and then back again, with a dart of her eyes to my dad every few seconds. We sit there in awkward silence, me refusing to move, for what feels like a century.

“There’s no case today, and my paperwork is all done. We could do this stand off all day long,” I hear from my father after probably a minute has passed. “Or, you could stand up and walk with me to my office.” I flinch, looking over at Spencer, and then at Penny. Penny scrambles to gather her food, and walks with her head down past my father, mumbling a small good luck to me as she leaves. Spencer squeezes my hand, and I nod my head in defeat, standing up. Spencer stands up with me, pulling me into a hug.

“Nothing he says matters,” he whispers to me as we hug. “I love you and you love me and that is what matters. Nothing else,” he says, and then places a kiss on the top of my head and lets me go. I nod again, and then turn my body and stiffly begin to walk to my father’s office. I hear him begin to follow me, but not before I hear what he says to Spencer.

“You’re next. My office in twenty minutes,” he says, and I can’t even bring myself to look over my shoulder at Spencer, instead choosing to continue walking to my father’s office.

As I enter my father’s office I immediately sink into the couch he has sitting on one wall, covering my face with my hands. It isn’t long before he walks in, and I hear him turn one of the chairs sitting at his desk to look at me. He sits down silently, not saying a word for at least two minutes. After what feels like a century of sitting in silence, he finally speaks up.

“I’m not mad. I know you think I am, but I’m not,” he says, and I let my hands drop from my face, looking at him.

“What?” I ask, shock evident in my voice.

“I mean I was mad a month ago when I figured it out, but I’m not mad anymore,” he says, a small smile coming across his face.

“A month?” I whisper, confusion written across my face as I try to figure out how he knew a month ago.

“You aren’t as sneaky as you think. A little over a month ago I drove over to your apartment because it had been awhile since we spent any time together, so I wanted to see if you wanted to get dinner together. When I pulled up to your building, I saw Spencer’s car outside. At first I thought it was a coincidence, that maybe he was seeing someone else in your building, so I parked and headed in. Your doorman let me in because he knew I was your dad,” he said, and I immediately remembered which night he was talking about, because Mark had told me he had sent my dad up, but because I never heard him knock I chalked it up to Mark getting mixed up over which tenant’s dad went up.

“So I went up to your apartment. When I got there, I knocked, but I guess you didn’t hear me. I stood in the hallway and waited, but I could hear you talking to someone. Being the profiler that I am, I leaned on your door and listened to the voices, trying to make sure you weren’t in trouble, because you hadn’t told me you were dating any one person, or even that you were going on dates. And then I heard him,” he says, and I immediately remember what he had heard.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

Flashback:

“What are you going to tell your dad when you’re out of town next weekend?” Spencer asked me as I stood in the kitchen chopping vegetables. I pause my cutting, thinking I heard a knock at the door, but then determine it was just my knife hitting the cutting board and start up again.

“That I’m going on a trip with a few of my fellow teachers at work. But I also will only have to tell him if you guys don’t get called on a case. If you do it won’t matter because I won’t be going anywhere,” I tell him with a shrug.

“I mean you could still go,” Spencer says, and I stop what I’m doing to turn and look at him.

“For one, I’m not going on a couples trip to a spa without you. And for two, you’re a profiler. You should know how dangerous it is for women to travel on their own,” I tell him, crossing over to him.

“I know, but I still think you deserve a weekend away. I know the stress of not telling your dad has been weighing on you. You need a weekend at a spa.”

“Yeah, but it wouldn’t be fun without the man I love,” I say, and stretch up to place a kiss on his lips.

“I love you,” he says in response, and then pulls me in again. When we pull away again he smirks at me. “How hungry are you?” he asks, and I laugh and take his hand, dragging him into my bedroom. Neither of us noticed the shadow of feet under the door as we walked by it.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

“You heard us talking about the spa trip,” I whisper looking at the ceiling as I calculate just how much he may have heard.

“Yeah. I finally decided it was time to stop eavesdropping when I heard you walk towards your room. I went down to the lobby, waved bye to your doorman, and left. I was pretty angry so I didn’t text you or call you to let you know I had been by. I went home, and told Krystall everything that I had heard. I wanted to get right back in my car and go over to your apartment and yell at you, but she talked me out of it. She reminded me that you would tell me when you were ready. I expected it to be within the next week, but then you still didn’t, and before I knew it it was past the time where it would be acceptable for me to bring up the fact that I knew. So I decided to wait until you were ready to let me know,” he says, and the way he sits back after he finishes shows me that he’s done.

“We were going to tell you next week. Next week is our six month anniversary, and we were waiting to tell you until after that,” I say, looking at him to see his reaction to knowing just how long we had been hiding this from him. He doesn’t show much of one, so I continue. “I wanted to be able to prove that we were serious about each other before I told you. I knew you would wind up thinking it was just a fling and it would change your work relationship with him if you knew before it had been a while.”

“Honey, from the moment I realized something had changed about you, I knew whatever it was was either a forever kind of thing or something that was going to put you in the hospital if it ended. I never would have thought it was just a fling between the two of you,” he says, standing up and coming to sit next to me on the couch. I scoot over and wrap my arms around him.

“I just didn’t want you to be disappointed,” I tell him, tears welling up in my eyes as he wraps his arms around me.

“I never would be,” he whispers, placing a kiss on my forehead. We sit together in silence for a few minutes, before a knock comes from the door, and the door pushes open less than ten seconds later.

“Sir, I love your daughter,” Spencer says as he steps foot in the room and closes the door behind him, not looking at the two of us as he does so. I laugh a watery laugh, and my dad kisses me on the forehead once more before pulling back and standing up.

“I know you do,” he says as he walks over to where Spencer is standing. Spencer looks at him confused, and then looks at me and sees the tears falling down my face. He moves to walk over to me, but I hold my hand up and motion towards my dad.

“Rossi, I don’t know what she has told you so far, but I want you to know that I love her more than anything, and I plan to one day marry her,” Spencer says, looking at my dad. My dad chuckles at Spencer and holds out his hand.

“Welcome to the family then Reid.”

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n

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theoriginalsinner28 · 3 months ago

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So I saw Hayden Christensen at the tampa bay comic con friday and I was sooo shy. First off, I thought he was going to be out in the celebrity row area where you can see him giving people autographs. I was really hoping to walk by and lose my shit before I actually met him for the picture. But I guess not! He was in a different room where we had to line up and there were different sessions. So I get in the line and instant shaking. And this couple was talking to me and they said he's super sweet they saw him before. So then It comes to be the girls turn in front of me and I peek my head around the wall to see him and oh my God he's even more beautiful in person! So I covered my mouth with my hand and squealed a little. Then it was my turn and he shook my hand and I told him my name and asked if we could hug and he smiled and hugged me for the pic!!!!! I died because we r literally holding each other in the pic!! When I went to go get the pic, the couple I saw in line was trying to tell me how to get my digital download and I told them they r gonna have to repeat that because my head was in a whirl and I was dying! My hands were shaking sooo bad! Then I was trying to decide for an hour if I wanted to do the autograph and I decided to do it. It was worth every penny! So when I went back for the autograph, I was less nervous but still nervous. The first thing he did was pick up the picture and he said "this is a really good picture!" And I died even more! Ahhhh! I Then said yes it was great! I asked him if he rode horses since he has a farm in Canada and he said he doesn't have any on his property right now but he does ride. I asked if he rode western or English and he said western and I smiled and told him I did both but I grew up on a small farm. I started to get red and he didn't respond but looked in my eyes then at my cheeks because I was turning red and then smiled a sort of shy smile and I thanked him and left. Omg I can't believe I was so shy and tried to hide it. I'm sure he saw through it and idk if he thought I was wierd or was caught off guard cuz I asked him something that wasn't star wars related or what he was feeling so im currently going coo coo. Lol! I think he was just being shy but idk! I just can't believe we were holding each other and I got to talk to him for a second! They best time of my life! That morning of the con I literally woke up at 4 am and couldn't go back to sleep. I've never been more excited for something in my life! I'm so happy and thankful I got this experience and it was worth every penny! Once in a lifetime! I have tickets for all 4 days of megacon in orlando in February and I will deff be cosplaying then for the first time and I will not be shy! I really wanted to tell him how special his character is to me but I was sooo shy. Next time! I worked out all month and ate super healthy just to prepare for this and I drove 2 hours to see him. I'm super into fitness anyways but this just motivated me even further. I love him so much and I'm beyond thankful that I got to have this experience. My dream come true! ❤️

#hayden christensen #anakin skywalker #star wars #darth vader #tampa bay comic con

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hypermania · 1 year ago

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transcript of the full thread:

"A very long thread: To the League fans, We found out this news along with you on Friday. I see the pain and anger and worry out there, which for the LGBTQIA+ fans of the show is of course compounded by what’s happening across the country right now. #ALeagueOfTheirOwn

So the first and most important thing to say is: Before anything, before you fight for the show or each other, please take care of yourselves. Reach out to your community and ask for help if you need it. You aren’t alone. Please be kind to yourselves.

As I’ve been thinking about what’s happened, I come back to a quote from Penny Marshall’s film: “The hard is what makes it great.” Making this show is so hard and so great. There’s quite a bit to say about what’s been hard, but at this point that’s in the past.

Of course, if we have an avenue to do it well, we will continue the show, and I love seeing the noise you’re making in support of that. The noise matters!

And it’s hard for me to imagine there wouldn’t be a home for a show that thanks to you was in the Nielsen Top 10 for three weeks, was the top show on Amazon for a month and in the top five for six, that was recognized by critics as something special, that’s been recognized…

…with awards from GLAAD, HRC and a million other organizations, that was on a million year-end top ten lists, and that has a built in and deeply passionate audience.

Amazon is pursuing different kinds of programming, but to the rest of the world this show is a hit and has huge value and even greater potential. But first things first, we have to win this strike and get a fair deal before we can explore what comes next.

But for a moment, I want to talk about what happens if the world didn’t quite change quickly enough for you to have all the seasons of this show that we want to give you.

If we don’t find a good path forward, I will still know that League did what it came here to do and, in its own small way, changed the world.

And that’s because of all of you, and the light you continue to shine on the show — How you let it matter to you, how you let it become a mirror, how you let it change you.

I’ve never experienced a response to a show that’s as deep, personal, creative and meaningful as what the fans have done with League. When we were making the season 1, we all wondered and worried about whether people would accept it on its own terms next to the film.

They have, and you did that, and so much more. You lit up the internet on your first watch throughs of the show, when you realized where it was going (and made all of us laugh in the process).

You wrote enough fan fiction for 100 novels and created an outpouring of art and creativity that could fill its own museum — I’ve truly never seen anything like it.

You lifted up a 95 year old who had just come out of the closet and made her into a celebrity who gets recognized wherever she goes. Every time any member of the cast appears at anything, you turn it into a convention.

You stop Abbi wherever she goes, and though I’m a happily inconspicuous person, and you constantly find me and stop me and give me gifts that now have a shelf in my house.

When thousands of you appeared to see D’Arcy at the stage door of The Thanksgiving Play over its run, you turned it into the hottest queer bar in New York. You made Max’s suit and Chante’s beautiful performance into a movement.

A mob of you went to Pittsburgh and saw all of our locations. You dressed as the characters and made our characters into one of the biggest halloween costumes of last year.

You came out, you changed pronouns, you started living more openly, you gave sermons in church about the show, you opened bars, and you got a truly mind boggling number of tattoos that say “to the five” and “rob the bank.” What else am I forgetting? I'm sure you'll remind me.

But most importantly, you made a community, you found each other and found joy, which of course is what the show is about. In many more ways than I would ever have let myself imagine while we were making it, you literally bring the show to life every day.

Thank you for making our work mean something bigger. We’ve heard from so many different kinds of people around the world who are watching League.

But, in a time when all queer people are personally and politically under attack across the country and HRC has declared a “state of emergency,” my biggest fear is that the many queer fans of League will take this reversal as one more invalidation, one more blow, one more…

…effect of the general politicization of our identities. Most of us grew up feeling invisible, and as we gain strength, the predictable backlash forces are trying their hardest to get us to go back underground.

In case anyone needs to hear it: You are not small, niche, modest, off-putting or marginal, and neither are your stories. You are multitudes, you are building, and your stories are universal. You are the most rapidly growing audience and consumer group in this country.

You are powerful. You are the future, and the people who don’t recognize your importance now will feel be clamoring to catch up in a few years. As Chante said so beautifully when we received the Human Right Campaign Visionary award, you are the main characters. Be proud.

Be angry if you that’s how you feel, but know that we are going to win, and don’t ever let this moment or any other make you small. The biggest lesson of the characters in this show is that, in a world that had no space for them at all, they LIVED. (Continued)

They found love, they did the things they loved, they won. You’re doing the same thing, and just like them, you are heroes. We are still fighting for League. But whether we win or lose this one, I’m so proud.

From the time when we began working on the season, Abbi, Deta and I said to each other — Let’s not hold anything back, for as long as we get to be here, let’s do this the right way.

We got so many notes wondering if the exploration of the queer world of the 1940s or Max’s world would be better saved for season 2, if people needed to start somewhere a little more familiar. I’m so glad we didn’t listen, cause now I’m sitting here without any regrets.

And no matter what happens, the people behind League aren’t going anywhere. Give us a minute, we will be back with more for you to watch and read and feel. We’re going to win.

And you’re not going anywhere either, because what you’ve built and what you are is bigger than this show. It’s the story of our community, that comes to us through the hidden history that League shows just one small part of: The bars got raided and shut down.

But the people didn’t go anywhere, and they opened a new bar, and out of those spaces came music, cinema, dance, culture — What we now see as mainstream was birthed from the spaces our predecessors were forced to hide in. They made joy there."

#aloto #a league of their own #will graham #mp #long post

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writersundersiege · 10 months ago

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Rooster and his Songbird

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader Seresin

Summary: Bradley is at the Hard Deck with the rest of the Dagger Squad like every Friday night, but Penny’s announcement for a new special event happening at the end of the month was have a local artist perform and their favorite drinks will be the special menu of the night all proceeds go back to help Homeless Veterans. The group Penny hires is excellent, but what catches Bradley’s attention is a gorgeous girl he’s never seen before. What will he do when he discovers it’s no one other than Jake “Hangman” Seresin's little sister? Will Bradley take the leap of faith? Is Jake going to let his only little sister anywhere near Rooster?

The music was loud as Bradley walked into the Hard Deck; it’s always busy, but tonight seems louder and more crowded, and Bradley looking around can’t seem figure out why. He’s making his way to a back table where the Daggers usually congregate when he spots Phoenix with his favorite kind of beer tipped toward him, signaling him to hurry his ass up over there.

Once he arrives and grabs his drink, he sits and takes note everyone who was usually on a Friday night out is here, minus Coyote and Hangman, who are sitting right next to the piano area for some reason. As he turns to Phoenix and Bob, who are talking about some movie Bob watched on Netflix, Penny’s voice rings true over the crowd, quieting them as much as she can.

“Good evening; thank you for joining us for the first Music Makes Miracles first event. All tonight's proceeds, besides the girls' tip jar, will be donated to homeless veterans. Also, just so that everyone knows, our special tonight is a Rum and Coke courtesy of the lovely girl, who I will let introduce herself, but as the rest of the night goes, thank you once for coming out again. Enjoy.”

As Penny hops down from the small black box stage, three girls hop up onto the stage; all of a sudden, it’s like the world stops all around Bradley. You’re laughing as you throw the strap of a regular Gibson guitar over your shoulder, but as he looks closer, he sees details of hummingbirds on it. You were smiling from ear to ear. It looked like there was an ethereal glow behind you as you tapped the mic a few times to make sure it was not too loud.

“Hey everyone, we’re so excited to perform; tips are appreciated but are not expected, but what is expected is to have fun with us!” here, the band cheers, which makes the crowd of Navy recruits, their loved ones, and few scattered civilians clap and whistle along to get the energy going.

Bob whistles while Phoenix shakes Bradley’s shoulder, yelling, “hell yeah, girl.” Bradley chuckles, cheeks turning pink, shaking his head in mock disapproval. “That’s the spirit tonight; we’ll start with Brandy by Looking Glass. I’m sure you all know it; feel free to sing along!”

Then you pull a little silver pitch pipe out of the pocket of your white sundress and put it to your lips, lightly giving the two girls standing behind you their pitches. You smile at the guy at the piano and twist the microphone to his lips so he can play and sing.

You walk back to the girls, and the music starts; you flip a switch with your foot to make your guitar sound electronic, and the man’s voice sounds out; he’s got a great tone of voice, but all Bradley’s eyes are you, and how you are keeping the beat perfectly singing back up with the girls, it’s like almost he can hear your voice all alone.

As they got to the bridge of the song, all the men and women in the bar alike were singing and laughing, drinking. Some of the older couples were even up dancing.

At the song's end, you were laughing with pure bliss on your face, eyes creased, cheeks peaked, and Bradley swallows hard, gripping himself to his chair to keep himself from standing and sweeping you off that stage and kissing you in front of all these people. What is wrong with him? He doesn’t even know your name, but he can’t stop this gravitational pull you seem to have on him.

You walk back to the man on the piano, grab the microphone, and twist it around as you kiss his cheek lightly. He smiles up at you. “Everyone give a huge round of applause for Noah; isn’t he just dreamy ladies,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows. “Anyways, My name is (F/N), and the lovely ladies behind me are-“As she steps to the side, the girls wave, and the one with really curly black hair waves, “I’m Cora, everyone,” and the other girl with extremely long golden looking hair smiles big waving “hey y’all I’m Savannah” you step back in center stage, “And we’re just a traveling band of misfits who love a little music and love making people remember their love for music so please do enjoy we’ll be playing throughout the night we also take requests so feel free to submit them over here” she points to a little box with some paper and pen next to an empty glass jar that was adorably painted with pink and white flowers and said tips with a bit of smiley face.

Phoenix again tries to pull Bradley from his trance by smacking him upside the back of the head. “What’s with you tonight? You seem like you are in outer space.” he straightens back, turning fully to Phoenix and Bob, and points back in your direction. “the singer, she’s just kinda amazing, isn’t she?” Phoenix's eyes go as big as Saturn's moons until she starts cackling while Bob cowers back like he’s scared a tidal wave will take him out.

Bradley starts to get annoyed, clearing his throat and raising his eyebrow for explanations from either of his friends. “That-“Phoenix starts catching her breath. “That little songbird you are so infatuated with is Jake’s “Bagman” Seresin's sweet little sister (F/N) Seresin.”

Bradley’s eyes got wide, and he turned where Coyote and Hangman sat, head on a swivel, glaring any men who started approaching the stage and then sliding different dollar amounts into the tips for the case of scaring off a potential target was coming to be just so generous to you girls.

Bradley shakes his head almost in defeat until an idea comes to mind. He says, “I'll be back,” to Phoenix, which has her saying back to him. “ good luck, don’t get killed, “and he gets up anyway, heading straight to the piano. Jake tracks his movements the whole way, but so do you. The entire night you've been watching Bradley's awe-struck face, you thought he was charming but a bit of a big bumbling mess, so to say, but in an adorable way.

Bradley's movement is steady as he pats Noah's back, leans down, and whispers, which causes the boy at the piano to smile from ear to ear. Noah moves over, and Bradley sits and, just like many times before, starts to bang out the notes on the keys below, singing out loud right toward you and sings out.

“You shake my nerves, and you rattle my brain

Too much love drives a man insane

You broke my will

But what a thrill

Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!”

As Phoenix and Bob realize his grand plan, they are in fits of laughter as Coyote and the rest of the team are oblivious; Jake looks like he's about to implode on the spot. You, on the other hand, are dancing and singing with girls along with so many others in the bar Bradley admires as you dance, blinded by music as if there is no world. It's just you and the notes floating in the air. He and Noah continue to slam down notes in rhythm together, smiling at each other minorly as they play the last notes, and the crowd erupts in applause and whistles. He can hear Bob yelling, “Yeah, Rooster!” as Phoenix makes a rooster call, hands cupped around her hand to make it louder. Everyone else was clapping and laughing along.

Bradley smiles but starts shaking as he feels a small dainty hand on his shoulder, looking up and seeing your gorgeous glowing smile and bright (E/C) sparkling. “You are amazing, Rooster. Jakey never said you could sing!” Bradley sucks in breath. “He's told you about me.” Suddenly, Jake inserts himself between you, Jake grabbing your hand gently like you were a little girl who just ran from him. “I did,” he said, glaring in Bradley's direction, turning to you, saying, “Go back up there; little bird people are waiting on you.” he smiled, and you happily turned and hopped back on stage as if nothing ever happened.

Jake turns, facing chest to chest to Bradley, glaring. He says, “Bradshaw, I know what your thinking, and better fucking stop thinking it, or I swear I will make you regret everything you've ever done in life” Jake turns and points subtly at you. “She is my family; don't ever mistake or Mix that up. She's off limits to all of you, but especially you. Sound crystal to you, Bradshaw?” During this entire threat, Bradleys shakes his head with a smile and red cheeks, just watching as you and your band set up to start.

You throw the strap over your shoulder for your Gibson. You smile and pull your (H/T) from under the straps. You are adjusting the microphone and preparing to sing. Before you do, you look to where Bradley is standing, wholly frozen and silent in front of Jake; you smile and start humming your starting notes.

Bradley looks back to your brother and says, “Clear, Would never dream of it” With a smirk, he turns his back, walking, leaving Jake completely baffled, mumbling to himself, “What the fuck does that even mean? I saw the eyes he's been giving her, those creepy eyes all night.”

As Bradley sits back with Phoenix and Bob, they eye him patiently, waiting for him to say how it went and what Jake had said. No one gets their answers, though, cause the rest of the night, one pair of eyes is set to the other like they were connected by string.

Bradley isn't sure how or when he'll make you his songbird, but he would happily follow you anywhere to listen to your melodic songs.

All rights belong to the original creator of the Top Gun Franchise. I do not own any of these characters except band characters; this is all just for fun

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fic #top gun fanfiction #jake hangman seresin #top gun imagine #rooster x reader #rooster top gun #rooster x you #rooster fanfic #rooster imagine #mine

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aliorsboxostuff · 1 year ago

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if your still doing topgun stuff, may I get some possessive Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Male!Reader? like reader is getting hit on and Jake makes it known that reader is his?

THIS TOOK 3 MONTHS TO WRITE??? AND IT CAME OUT SO SHORT?? I'm so sorry but your request is so good but I got swarmed with work AGHHHH i hope you enjoy this tho regardless, we love a possessive Jake <3

Display of Affection

Tags: Jake Seresin x Male!reader, Hangman x Male!reader, Hangman, Jake Seresin, The Dagger Squad, male!reader, Penny Benjamin, Possessive behavior, established relationship, smug!boyfriend Jake, alcohol, kissing, slight dirty talk, pushing away a creep, Jake Seresin to the rescue! Note: Reader’s callsign here is ’Robin’

When an enjoyable night at the Hard Deck turns sour when a creep decides to waltz his way to you, Jake Seresin comes to the rescue!

—

reblogs and comments appreciated <3

A slow Friday night at the Hard Deck. The team was lounging around the pool table, bantering with one another, a drink in hand and the slightly warm atmosphere from the tipsiness the booze has granted them. You and the others arrived around 8, right after an important meeting with Mav before he excused himself for the night and went home with Iceman, wishing you all to enjoy your weekend. So, naturally, you all poured into the Hard Deck and continued to bother Penny with horrible jokes while she rolled her eyes.

Somehow, you all seemed to stay even after rush hour finished, and only your team and a couple of other patrons were milling about. You lean to your left, resting your head on Jake's shoulder as he crosses his arms and says something about baseball to Mickey. The blonde smirks as he reaches a hand around your hip and pulls just slightly closer. You smile, taking another sip from your cup, letting the alcohol warm you.

You squint when your sip ends short and realize your depleted drink before your eyes finding Jake’s beer bottle almost empty. Moving from your boyfriend's hand, you reach over to take his bottle and your cup with you, Jake raises a brow before you stroll away. “I’ll get us more,”

He smiles, before promptly returning to his conversation. You grin, before reaching the bar where Penny is drying a glass and setting your cup and bottle on the counter. “Another bottle for Jake and a refill for me,”

“You got it, Robin,” She nods, before taking both of them and going to do her work. You lean over the bar, forearms resting your weight as your eyes roam about the abundance of bottles and decorations strewn about the Hard Deck. A familiar tune passes through you as you begin to hum, waiting for your drink, before the hair on your neck rises and you snap to your right, spotting a man eyeing you, a smirk on his lips, before he decides to make his way towards you. He’s supporting a worn-down flannel with ripped jeans, a futile attempt on trying to style himself. A civilian in their mid-forties-ish, unkept stubble is as clear as the man's drunkenness.

‘Oh great,’ You roll your eyes, huffing slightly before you stand straight, arms crossed, the annoyance already creeping up your spine. And to no one's surprise, the guy stops beside you, clearly already too drunk for his own dignity, a lopsided smirk while he drops his cup on the bar. By no means are you of a smaller stature than your peers, in fact; Jake is only a couple inches above you and if you were wearing shoes with a bit more on its heels, you'd be the same height as your boyfriend, the same build too. The same predicament currently with the man, only a bit taller than you, but that only seems to fuel him on as he tries to straighten himself, puffing out his chest.

“Hey there,” A sultry undertone in the man's voice has you swallowing a bile, so you reply to his words with a tight smile.

“Evening, sir,” You promptly nod, navigating into a more polite route. He sways in your direction, making you lean back to avoid the man, trying to give this person's intoxicated brain a fucking hint. “Can I help you with something?”

“Yeah, actually you can,” that irksome smirk is back. Your smile tightens. His arm almost brushes yours. “Can you help me to your number-”

“Is there a problem here?” You jump slightly when you feel a familiar arm loop around your middle, pulling you to the right, before you glance and spot Jake’s dangerous grin aimed at the man.

The creep halts slightly before he sneers. “This your man?”

“Yeah, and what of it?” You bite, finding your courage beside Jake’s presence. The man scoffs, disgust written on his face, before he mutters under his breath.

“Fucking sissies…”

Your simmering anger accelerates into a boil, your eyes growing wide with a retort at the end of your tongue before Jake’s hand cups your jaw, cutting you off from shouting at the man and pressing his lips against yours. You let out a small confused noise before Jake starts to prod between your lips, asking for entrance, at which slides in and tastes your tongue. Between your boyfriend's solid hold and the arm around your hips, dizziness begins to envelop you, intoxicated by Jake’s sudden movements.

The kiss ends with Jake softly pulling back, before nudging your head to rest against his chest. “Don't be a hypocrite, would you? Last time I checked you were hitting on a man as well,”

You could practically feel Jake’s burning smirk. You can't help but stand in shock, face as warm as it has been this whole night, and shifting slightly to bury your face deeper into Jake’s embrace. Your boyfriend chuckles lightly, before turning back to the man. “But this one is taken, so why don't you kindly fuck off?”

The man choked on his words, before slamming a couple of bills onto the bar and storming out of the bar. The sound of the door shifting relieves your tension, slowly raising your head. Your eyes meet your boyfriend, a warm smile on his lips. He raises a hand and pushes a couple of stray fringes, arranging them back properly into your hairstyle.

“Thank you, Jake. That guy is way over his head. You did all of us a favor,” Penny’s voice snaps you out and you move slightly apart from Jake, though you already miss his warmth. Jake laughs and shakes his head.

“All in a day's work, Penny,” He winks, quickly snatching your refill and his beer, before turning to walk back to the squad table. You nod a thanks towards Penny before catching up to Jake, bumping his side. He moves his arms, exaggerating as if he was going to drop the beverages.

“Whoah! Careful princey,” He chuckles, swaying slightly.

You roll your eyes fondly. “I had him, y’know,”

“Oh I know baby,” You snap to his face, eyes sharp, which makes Jake let out another surprised laugh. “I mean it! I do! I don't doubt that you’d probably sock that guy in the face,”

“But we’re not trying to get kicked out by our dear Penny, right?” He raises an expectant brow, which makes you huff, a small smile tugging at the edge of your lips. The two of you slide back into your previous seats, discreetly shuffling to press against your boyfriend. You knew he simply smiled, wrapping an arm around your middle. What you didn't expect was his breath fanning against your neck as he leaned in.

“Besides, I don't get many chances to show others you're mine.”

Your face heats. Scrambling to push Jake’s mouth away from getting any closer. The room suddenly grew hotter, a steady stream of arousal moving through your body. “Jake…”

Jake laughs, patting your shoulder lightly. There's a light dusting of pink on his cheeks, most likely from the liquor. “I know, Robin! I know!”

His laugh cuts short, before that devilish smirk is back on your boyfriend's enticing lips. “Later, then…”

Requests are open! (slow res)

#jake hangman x reader #jake hangman x you #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman fic #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x male reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x m!reader #hangman x reader #hangman seresin #hangman x you #hangman x male!reader #top gun hangman #top gun maverick fanfic #male reader #x male reader #male reader fanfic #amab reader

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automaticllamacycle · 1 year ago

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I’ll do anything you say ( if you say it with your hands) part two

part one

Summary: it’s the long awaited next date.

Content: 18+, oral sex, unprotected sex, praise kink, first time, after care, smut with plot

Word count: 8600

You’re back at work the next day. Penny is already in your ear begging for every single detail of last night.

“You’ve got to tell me more than just that,” Penny sighs, finishing a latte for a customer.

“Did you expect me to give you a play by play of everything?”

“Duh. Of course I did. You have to give me more than ‘Oh, it was good,’ because that is not enough information,” she protests.

“Fine. It was… nice. I helped him make spaghetti for dinner, because he struggled to make it by himself. The man cannot follow a recipe. Then we watched 10 Things I Hate About You and did some other things…” you pause, not telling her any more detail. “And then he walked me home because I forgot to tell my neighbor to let Socks out for me like a dumbass.”

“Expand on what ‘other things’ means.”

“No.” You’re blunt. She isn’t going to convince you to talk, especially not now.

“Come on! Can you least tell me if you guys, you know…” she trails off, a smirk on her face as she pries for more information.

“We didn’t go all the way, no. We are having another date this weekend, but I don’t know what we will do. Matty hasn’t told me the plans yet.”

“I think we both know what the plans are,” she replies, eyebrows raised.

“I don’t think I’ve told you to shut up enough during this conversation.” At this point, you turn your body away from her, hoping she will drop the topic while you make yourself a coffee.

“You know you love me.”

“That’s debatable.”

Matty walks in the shop three days later. The rain is pouring outside down outside, making his curls damp against his forehead.

“Hey, how are you?” you ask him from behind the counter, starting on his drink after ringing him up. His order is second nature now. You could do it in your sleep.

“I’m good, a bit damp though,” he laughs. To prove his point, Matty runs a hand through his hair, shaking out the water onto the floor. He has on a rain jacket, but no umbrella in hand, obviously the reason he’s completely soaked.

“I can see that. Do you not own an umbrella?”

“I lost the last one I had, haven’t got around to buying a new one, yet.”

“I think you need to get on that. You do live in London you know.” You joke, handing him his coffee. His hand grazes yours as he grabs the cup. Despite the cold rain outside, his hands are warm on yours.

“You got a few minutes to talk? I wanna talk to you about our next date, if that’s alright with you.”

“Oh, yeah? Sure. I can take my ten.” You walk over to Penny to let her know. Her eyes narrow at you before she looks at Matty, giving him the same expression. He raises his hand in an awkward wave at her scrutiny. “Can you not stare him down like that, Penny?” you ask before walking out from behind the counter to follow Matty to a table. “So, what’s your plan this time? please tell me it doesn’t involve cooking.”

“I, for one, think the food was great.”

“Because I did most of the work,” you correct him.

“No, the plan is not for me to cook again. I’ll work on my skills, and we can try that again another time. Actually, there’s going to be trivia at one of my favorite pubs this Friday. I was thinking we could go to that, and then maybe go back to my place afterwards…” he doesn’t continue his sentence, looking down at his coffee.

“Back to your place, huh? Yeah, I think we can do that,” you chuckle. “I’m excellent at trivia, though. I can get pretty competitive.”

“That makes two of us, love. I can pick you up at 7:00? That way we don’t have to walk to the train.”

“Going to be my chauffeur for the night? That sounds good to me.”

“I have to make up for the disaster dinner somehow.”

You chat with him for the rest of your break. Matty takes up most of the conversation, explaining the new sound he was working on for the band. You listen closely, even though you struggle to keep up with the crazy he ideas he throws at you. Most of the time, you just nod along and smile, hoping he can’t see through you. His eyes always light up when he talks about music. With that look in his eyes, you could listen to him all day. He could be speaking a foreign language for all you care, but you would hang onto every word.

Unfortunately, the ten minutes go by fast, and your break is over. “I gotta go back to making coffee for grumpy people,” you sigh, getting up from your seat. Matty gets up at the same time.

“I’ll see you this Friday,” He wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a hug. When he lets go, his lips meet yours in a quick peck. The innocent display of affection makes blush run to your cheeks, turning your face cherry red. “Bye, sweetheart,” he says before walking out the door, back out into the rain before you could say another word.

Penny is on you the second you’re behind the counter. You knew she had to have been watching you both like a hawk the second you sat down.

“So… you’re at the kissing-in-public stage now? Wonder what that means you get up to in private.”

“Penny, oh my God, it was just a peck calm down.” The heat still burns at your cheeks.

“Just saying!”

Friday comes along fast. Knowing the date would be at a pub, you decide to wear something simple. You put on an oversized white button up and tuck the shirt into a pair of black slacks. After looking in the mirror, your hands undo a few of the top buttons, letting a bit of the black bralette you’re wearing show. At exactly 7:00pm, you hear a knock at your door. “Well, you are right on time,” you say after opening the door. He’s wearing a pair of jeans with a band tee, with a warm trench coat over top.

“I’m known for being punctual.” His gaze drifts down from your eyes to the open buttons of your shirt. You take the opportunity to tease him a bit.

“My eyes are up here, you know.” You tease. “Let me grab my coat really quick and we can head out.”

“I was just looking at your… necklace, it’s really pretty,” he counters.

“Oh, I’m sure that’s exactly what you were doing.”

“Well, you can’t wear a top like that and expect me not to look, darling. You look lovely by the way. Let me help you with your coat.” Like a true gentleman, he slides the coat over your arms before the two of you walk out the door. Once you make it outside, he opens the passenger side door, letting you get inside.

The ride to the bar is short. Matty has on the car radio on a low volume while you exchange conversation back and forth. He makes a bit too much eye contact for your comfort, but it’s hard for him to keep his eyes on the road when he can look at you instead.

“Matty, you need to watch the damn road! You’re going to hit something at this rate.”

“Just admiring the pretty girl in my passenger seat. I can’t help it, love.” There’s a smile on his face as he reaches for your hand. His eyes dart back to the road, but his hand holds yours, resting on top of your thigh. The size of his hand engulfs your own; the warmth from his fingertips sinking into your skin. It stays there, encasing your hand until you arrive at the pub. His hand grabs back of your headrest while he backs up into a parking spot, looking over his shoulder. “What drink you want?” Matty asks when you make it to the bar.

“I think I’m feeling a vodka cran tonight.”

“I was expecting something a little bit more adventurous from you.”

“Let me enjoy my vodka cranberry in peace. What are you going to get, a glass of wine?” You’re halfway joking, but he proves you right with his next sentence.

“Yeah, actually. I would get the bottle, but I don’t want to get too wasted anyway. Want to remember every second of tonight.” A smirk runs across Matty’s face as he turns to the bartender to tell him the drink order.

After the bartender makes your drink and pours Matty’s glass of wine, Matty leads you over to one of the open tables, guiding you with a hand at the small of your back. The heat from his hand radiates through you, especially when his hands travel up your back to take off your jacket. He places it on the back of your chair then does the same with his own coat.

“Okay, so what’s the prize for winning trivia? There’s gotta be something or there wouldn’t be this many people here,” you ask, gesturing to the room full of people as you settle into your seat.

“Cash prize is a two-hundred dollars, plus a free drink, but I don’t think we have a shot at winning to be honest. Some of these people are real pros and come every week.”

“Maybe we should make our own wager then. Whoever answers the most questions correctly wins a reward.”

“Oh, sounds like you got something in mind. What kind of reward are we talking about?” Matty asks.

“I bet you could probably guess if you tried.”

“I’m sure I could, but I thought we talked about you using your words on our last date.”

“Fuck off,” you exclaim, cheeks flushed. You take a quick sip of your drink. The alcohol couldn’t set in fast enough.

“How about this, winner gets to do whatever they want to do first tonight when we get to my place.” His voice is low as he speaks, like he doesn’t want anyone to overhear him. “Does that work for you, darling? Good enough of a wager?”

You gulp. Voice caught in your throat. He isn’t easing into this. “Uhm, yeah. That works.” You struggle to meet his gaze. His brown eyes look through you, reading you like a book right in front of him. “Going to tell me what you’re thinking of doing first?” you ask.

“That’ll ruin the surprise,” he chuckles. Before you have a chance to counter his statement, the host of the trivia announces himself with the microphone. He’s quick to explain the rules. Players can work in teams, or by themselves. Players have to write their answers in pen on the answer sheet in front of them before the answers are reveled. And of course, the person or team with the most correct answers wins the cash prize.

“Ready to lose, babe?” Matty says, confidently. Only a hint of humor in his words.

“Strong words for a man who never finished his GCSEs.” You counter.

“Trivia isn’t all about book smarts.” The announcer formally begins the trivia night, and Matty practically eats his words at the first question.

“Alright everyone, hopefully you remember the basic solar system. For our first question, what is the smallest planet?”

You write down you’re answer quickly, and flip the answer sheet over, not trusting Matty to keep his eyes on his own paper. “We are starting off easy tonight. I got this one in the bag,” you declare.

“Calm down, darling; I think everyone knows this one,” he smiles as he writes down his answer, turning his sheet over as well. After one minute, the host announces the answer, which is Mercury. The exact answer you wrote down. Matty did not have as good of luck, though. “The fuck? I could have sworn it was Pluto.” He protests.

“Matty, Pluto isn’t a planet. It hasn’t been for over a decade now. I’m guessing you didn’t finish your science GCSE?” you poke fun at him. Matty shoots a look right back at you while you take another sip of your drink. Your academic knowledge doesn’t help you for the next question.

“Throwing it back a little bit here with this next question. Who was everyone’s first friend on the MySpace?” the host says. Without much thought, you jot down a name on the piece of paper, knowing you had no chance of getting the right answer. When the host says the answer after about a minute, you put a sarcastic expression of defeat on your face and sigh.

Matty, on the other hand, smiles happily across the table. “What? You didn’t know about Tom from MySpace?”

“Never had a MySpace,” you laugh. “Facebook was the rage when I was in school.”

Trivia night continues and the competition between you and Matty only heats up. It goes back and forth for most of the night. He gets an answer right, then you don’t, and vice versa. Or, you both answer wrong. You finish your first vodka cranberry during a brief break in the trivia, so you start to excuse yourself from the table to get another drink. Matty stops you. His hand catches your wrist when you stand up.

“I’m cutting you off, love. Don’t want you to get drunk. I have a lot of plans for later.” Although there is a smile on his face and lightheartedness in his voice, you can’t ignore the look in his eyes. They practically devour you.

You decide to mess with him a bit. “Feeling a little bossy, are we? I can handle my liquor you know.”

“Not taking any chances and look,” he gestures to his wine glass, still on his first one. “I’m limiting myself, too.”

“What a proper gentleman you are tonight,” you reply as you sit back down. He keeps your hand in his, enjoying the touch of your skin.

Matty does way better at the trivia than you expected. He nails every question that has to do with music, pop culture, and especially football. For the most part, you’re able to answer the other question categories.

After the final question, you both tally up your scores. There’s no shot either of you won against the another teams, so you don’t even bother to turn in the score sheets.

“Well, love, let’s see who won the competition, shall we?” He reaches over to grab your answer sheet, comparing it to his. “I think you have met your match. I beat you by a whole ten points.”

“No fucking way!” you exclaim, grabbing the papers from his hand. A strong laugh leaves his throat at your reaction. “There’s no way I lost by that much.”

“Look with your own eyes, then.” The paper backs him up; he completely blew you out of the park.

“I think this was a set up.”

“I told you I’ve been to a few of these before. Those GCSEs not help you much?”

“I guess not,” you laugh. “So, what’s your little plan then? Since you won and all.” Your heart rate up at the thought of his plans. The pulse loud in your ears.

“Let’s just go to the car, yeah?” Matty stands up, putting on his own coat and helping with yours. He leaves a cash tip on the bar for the bartender, then guides you out of the bar back to his car.

The tension in the car is thick. His hand rests on the inside of your tight. It’s only slightly above your knee, but the touch of his fingers gives you goose bumps. The car ride, feels like hours as you both sit in silence. He doesn’t answer when you ask him what he is planning. Matty just smiles and looks at the road, telling you to be patient.

However, patience isn’t easy when you know what is going to happen next. When you know that tonight is the night. Every time his hand squeezes your thigh a fire shoots through your body.

When he finally gets to his flat and parks the car, it takes everything in you to not leap out of your seat. Instead, you wait for him to come around and open your door, like he he’s been doing all night long. On the elevator ride up to his apartment, you expect him to touch you. For him to kiss you and put his hands on you. But, he still doesn’t. As you enter his flat, you think he’ll finally kiss you, or do anything really.

“Why don’t you take a seat on the couch. Do you want a cup of tea?” Matty says nonchalantly while he walks to the kitchen, setting up some quiet music on a blue tooth speaker. You roll your eyes at him, sighing. He continues though. “I’m going to make myself a cup regardless. Sure you don’t want one?”

“Okay, fine.” You hear him start the kettle before returning to the living room. Although, he doesn’t sit on the couch next to you. Matty walks over to a set of drawers by his TV, grabbing something. It’s only when he sits down on a stool across from the couch that you make what he has in his hands, a deck of cards. He pulls them out and begins shuffling the deck on the coffee.

“What on earth are you doing?” you ask. To say you’re confused is an understatement.

“Shuffling a deck of cards. Can’t you tell?”

“I’m not blind, Matty. Why are you shuffling a deck of cards?”

“Because we are going to play gin rummy.” He finishes shuffling the deck as the kettle goes off, so he goes to the kitchen and pours two cups of tea. Matty hands you a cup before sitting back down on the stool.

“Did I misread something? Why are we going to play a card game?”

“Because. I won the trivia night, and we agreed that whoever won got to decide what we do first. I am choosing to play gin rummy.” The look on his face is comical. His big brown eyes crinkle as he smiles right back at you, like he wasn’t teasing you.

You don’t think you can wait any longer. You want him now. No, you need him now.

“Matty, will you just touch me already?” There’s a needy whine in your voice that you can’t control. “Please?” His jaw clenches at your words. He’s holding himself back.

“It’s all about building tension, darling. It’s more rewarding if you wait a little bit.” He doesn’t stop there, continuing to tease after a brief pause. “Going to be a good girl and be patient for me?”

“Fucking hell,” you sigh, hiding your face in your hands. Blood rushes to your cheeks, heating your face up. A heavy blush falls over your entire face.

“Now, do you know how to play? Or do I need to walk you through that too?” he smirks, setting the deck of cards face down on the table.

“I know how to play. Are we doing first to one hundred points wins?” he nods his head, and you both draw a card from the deck. His card wins so he deals out the cards. “Does the winner get a reward this time?” You wanted to know if you were getting yourself into another competition with him.

“I think the reward is the same no matter who wins,” he chuckles but doesn’t elaborate as his stare into yours. It doesn’t take long before they trail down to your chest again. You both go silent as the game begins. You and Matty take turns to draw cards and discard others, attempting to be the first to have only sets of melds in their hand. The tension could be cut with a knife. His gaze is heavy on you as he tries to read your face and guess what you’re going to do next. You nearly have gin before Matty suddenly knocks his cards on the table, ending the round.

“Can’t handle the pressure?” you ask as you display your hands. It’s obvious once your cards are down that your hand is better than his, which gives you 25 points, plus the value of his unmatched cards, 33 total points.

“Well, fuck. That wasn’t a good choice,” he laughs as he shuffles the cards again. “Am I about to find out that you’re a secret prodigy at gin rummy or something?”

“It’s all a game of luck, Matty. But yeah, you just so happened to pick the card game I’m quite good at playing.”

“Give me a run for my money then.” Matty insists.

“I didn’t think we were playing for money.”

“We aren’t.”

The next round goes by quickly. Once again you enter the same dance as last time, however this time you manage to reach gin before he has the chance to knock out. He groans loudly when you call out, revealing his horrible hand.

“Shit, that’s rough. With how many unmatched cards you have, if my math is right… that should be 55 points!”

“God, maybe this was a bad idea.”

“You started it, Matty. Don’t start a fight you can’t finish.”

“Watch it, love.” His eyes darken.

Your winning streak runs out on the next round, he gets gin before you do. He’s awfully proud now, even though he’s only won once. You keep cool as he shuffles for the next round, one more win and it’s in the bag for you. As you get closer and closer to calling gin, Matty makes the same mistake as he did in the first round, choosing to knock out. He knows that if you reach gin, it will be over, so he takes a risk. The cards land in your favor, though, your hand having less unmatched pairs than his.

“I think that means that I win, Matty. Do I get a reward now for being so patient?”

He walks over to you and sits on the couch right beside you. He still doesn’t move though, taking a second to look over you. God, you are so beautiful to him. He could spend all day just looking at you. You interrupt his thoughts by wrapping your hands in his hair and pulling his mouth to yours. The sudden action surprise him a bit. A subtle groan escapes his lips as he catches up with your movements. It’s heated and needy. His mouth moves against yours in a fervor as his tongue brushes against your bottom lip. You happily let him into your mouth, and a whine leaves your lips. His mouth swallows up the sound. Electricity runs through you as his hands touch your body. First, they meet the sides of your face, tugging you in closer by your jaw. Next, one of his hands trails back until his fingers intertwine in your hair. He’s not gentle with it, tugging harshly on your locks to draw another moan out of your mouth. With his other hand he grips your waist, urging you to straddle his hips. In an instant, you grind against him. Your hips move sloppily, but all you can think about is the release he gave you last week. You want his hands on you again.

“Matty, please,” you beg after separating from his mouth. His hands still hold your hips firmly to the bulge growing in his jeans. Brown eyes stare back into you, completely blown out. Your eyes drift down to his lips, which are now swollen and glistening. They’re begging to be kissed again, to be pressed up against your own.

“What do you need, baby?” His fingers dig into your hips. You pray they’ll leave a bruise for you to admire tomorrow. His eyes search for any sign of hesitation on your part.

“I need you to touch me again.” There’s a nervous break in your voice. Although you want this more than anything, the anxiety begins to seep through.

His hand detaches from your waist to hold your jaw. You feel the rough calluses on his thumb as he rubs your cheek gently. It’s taking everything in you not to drown in those kind, brown eyes. “I’ll take care of you. I promise.” He seals the promise with a chaste kiss on your lips. “Let’s go to the bedroom, yeah?” Matty guides you to stand up, taking your hand as he leads you to the bedroom. His hand is warm, grounding you and keeping you steady. Rough compared to your own, but still so gently when he holds you. Your hand trembles a bit in his grasp, and you know he can feel it, too. He squeezes your hand, trying to offer you comfort however he can. Once you’re in his room, Matty’s hands rest tentatively on your waist. “Are you comfortable, love? You can back out any time you want to, just say the word.” His voice is serious as he talks. Completely genuine. It doesn’t matter how much he wants this. He would never do anything against your wishes.

“Just a little bit nervous.” You break away from his gaze, looking down at the ground before your next sentence. “But I want this. I want it to be you.”

“Can we get started with what your reward is?” He has a cheeky smile on his face as he tilts your chin so you’re forced to meet his eyes.

“What might that be?” Your voice unintentionally comes out in a whisper. Matty leans down. His lips brush against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine when he speaks again.

“I want to taste you. That okay?” His voice is gravelly, sending heat between your legs.

You start to nod, but quickly remember Matty wants a verbal response. “Please.”

“That’s a good girl. Going to make you feel so good.” His lips move against your neck, sucking at the skin. The feeling of his tongue against your pulse sends electricity through your body, making your hair stand up on end. He breaks for a moment, taking his time to unbutton the front of your shirt to reveal the lacy bralette underneath. “I’ve been wanting to see this all night,” Matty whispers while his hand squeezes your breast through the bra. “Wearing this just to tease me. Such a naughty thing.” A choked sound leaves your throat as he begins to suck at the revealed skin. His teeth scrape against a certain spot on your collarbone, making you jolt.

“I didn’t know having just a few buttons undone would have you this worked up,” you tell him.

He looks up at you. The brown ring around his eye small in comparison to the size of his pupils.

“You always get me worked up. Could be wearing a garbage bag for all I care.” His eyes dart back to your chest. Eager to see more of your skin, to mark up every inch of your body. “Can I take it off? Want to see you.”

“Yeah,” you whine. Skilled hands pull the bralette over your head, leaving your chest bare to him. Matty’s mouth falls open at the sight of you.

“Fuck. God, you’re gorgeous, love. So fucking beautiful.” An unabashed moan leaves your lips as his mouth takes in your nipple. His tongue swirls around the bud, before his teeth graze it, once again making you tremble. He pays your other breast the same attention, tongue scalding against your skin.

Matty stands back up to full height, towering over you. “Sit on the edge of the bed for me, yeah?” His voice is commanding, but his eyes haven’t lost any of their kindness. You listen, stepping backwards until the back of your legs hit the bed behind you. Matty’s gaze sets you ablaze as you sit down, slightly spreading your legs. Snapping out of his trance, he quickly removes off his t-shirt, revealing his toned chest. He’s panting, struggling to catch his breath. With his eyes locked to yours, Matty takes a few careful steps forward before falling to his knees. His tongue wets his lips as he looks up at you. Matty’s hands linger on your knees, trailing up your thighs. His fingers avoid touching your center, finally resting on the waist band of your pants. His tongue traces where your pants meet your waist. The sight is erotic. He’s already worked up, straining against his jeans.

“Lift your hips for me.” Matty whispers. Your hips raise for him, and he slowly drags the fabric of your pants down your legs. His hands are rough on your knees as he pulls your knees farther apart, leaving enough space for him to rest between them. His warm, swollen lips touch the skin of your thigh, leaving kisses all the way up. When he reaches your inner thigh, you jump as he adds teeth, determined to mark up the skin. He wants to be able to see the marks later. A physical sign that you’re his. Your skin muffles the chuckle that leaves his throat at your reaction. The slowness movements torturous. “Matty, please. I need you.”

“I know you do. Can see how wet you are, darling.” He runs a finger over the wet spot forming on your underwear. Matty mouths over the fabric, saturating it further. He nuzzles at your clit through it.

“Fuck.” You cry, craving the feeling of his tongue on you.

“Let me take these off then if you’re so needy.” He discards the fabric and takes no time to run a broad stroke along your center, collecting your wetness on his tongue. The feeling instantly makes you scream. You’ve never felt anything like it before. The sensation much different than his fingers. His tongue movements are precise, circling your bud. Your hands wrap in his hair, fighting the urge to grind into his face. He breaks free from your grip for only a moment to tease you.

“I knew you’d taste sweet. I could stay between your legs all night long.” When his mouth goes back to your cunt, he traces over your entrance, not fully pushing his tongue inside.

“Matty—” you croak. Your hands pull hard on his curls, making him groan at the pain. It seems the pain only spurs him on, though. He moans into your cunt while he fucks his tongue into your entrance roughly, holding your hips still as you squirm. With every movement of his tongue, his nose nudges against your clit. His arms flex as he holds your hips down, trying to keep you still. You put up one hell of a fight. Hips jolting in his arms.

He moves back to your clit, alternating between lapping over the bud with quick, delicate strokes and sucking at the bud. Whines leave your throat as you struggle to catch your breath. Matty’s tongue is relentless, building heat up in your stomach. He grabs your legs quickly, throwing them over his shoulders so he can hook his arms underneath your thighs. His strong arms hold your center to his mouth, not letting you pull away from his tongue.

You gasp at the new fervor he has against your cunt. He’s licking your center like you’re his final meal, completely burying himself in your cunt. Ecstasy overwhelms you head to toe. Your hips rut against his face, chasing pleasure. The grip in his hair is the only thing grounding you right now, pulling tight. The fire is building by the minute as he quickly circles your clit. “Matty, I’m close please,” you whine. Your thighs clasp around his head, holding him there. Matty’s fingers dig further into your thighs in retaliation. He sends you to release the second he delivers one final, harsh suck on your clit. The euphoria overwhelms you. Cries of Matty’s name leave you in broken sobs. Your hips jolt against his face at the shocks of your orgasm. The world is hazy around you. The only thing you can feel is his tongue continuing to work against you through your high, wet and hot against your clit.

When your thighs unclench around his head, Matty beams at you with a dumb smile on his face, completely blissed out that you came on his face. “How was that, sweetheart?” His voice is cocky. Matty turns his head back to your inner thighs to leave soft kisses on the bruises forming on the skin. You forget to answer him, wrapped up in the way he looks between your thighs. A wet sheen is still all over his mouth, lips swollen and red. His hair is wild from your hands pulling at it, standing up in all directions. He nips your thigh again to get your attention. “Well?” his eyes brows raise while he waits for your answer.

“It was good.” You really didn’t know how else to put it. His tongue made you see stars. Matty raises off his knees to hover over you on the bed, standing between your thighs. He kisses you recklessly before he speaks again. The taste of you lingers on his lips.

“Just good? That’s all you have to say?”

“I already miss when your tongue was occupied.” You joke.

“Oh, I can go again if you want? Meant it when I said I could stay down there for hours.”

“Please. I need you, Matty.”

“You have me, darling.” He knows exactly what you want, but he wants you to ask for it. The sight of him standing in front of you, still mostly dressed, makes you more aware of how bare you are. His eyes devour you, still waiting for a verbal response. At first, Matty stares at your lips, still swollen and puffy. His eyes shift down your neck and chest, admiring the way the marks from his mouth clash with your skin. Out of instinct, he goes to palm himself through his jeans, groaning at the pressure and wishing it was your own hand.

It doesn’t take long before you give in and tell him exactly what you want. “Fuck me. Please.” Your voice is desperate. You want him more than anything. You need him more than anything.

Instead of teasing you further, Matty’s eyes soften as he steps forward to hold your face in his hands. His thumb traces over your lips, delicate and tender. “Alright, baby. I’ll be gentle. Promise I won’t hurt you.”

“I trust you, Matty.” He smiles before he kisses you again. At first, it’s soft and sweet, but it becomes frantic. One of his hands leaves your face to hastily undo his belt, and his jeans are off the next second. His hand grabs your hand, pressing your palm to his hard length covered by his boxers. A loud groan breaks free from his lips as he separates from your mouth. “Do you feel how hard you make me? That’s only for you. Can you lay back on the bed for me?” You listen quickly, shifting up on the bed. Your eyes linger over large bulge in his boxers. The fabric is strained and wet with precum.

Nerves course through your veins at the thought of his cock inside of you, stretching you out. You’re on fire, practically leaping out of your skin. Only his touch can calm the burn. His hands move to pull down his boxers, releasing his cock. Beside the bed, he opens the nightstand, grabbing a condom and holding it in his hands.

“Um,” you interrupt before he opens the package. “I’m on the pill so you don’t have to use one if you don’t want to.” You’ve waited so long for this moment. You want all of him, and nothing less.

Matty struggles to hold himself together. It’s obvious you don’t know how much that sentence fuels him. The thought of being the first one inside of you already makes him ache. The added lack of separation only increases his desire for you. He refuses to pressure you, though. “You sure?”

“I want to feel you.” Your legs part, letting him see the sheen dripping down your thighs.

“You’re going to be the fucking death of me,” he pants.

The world around you slows down as Matty climbs on top of you. All that matters is you and him. His hands rest beside either side of your head, holding himself over your body. The gentleness still in his eyes from earlier. Those kind eyes calm you down instantly. He lets his body lay down fully on you, connecting you skin to skin. When the head of his cock lines up with your entrance, you gasp.

“You ready?”

“Please,” you whisper.

With your confirmation, Matty slowly pushes into you, stretching you out. A breathless groan leaves his throat from the feeling of you so warm and wet around his cock. His hands squeeze at your waist. The rough calluses on his fingertips dig into the skin, steadying himself as he sinks into your cunt. Your eyes squeeze shut. Although he’s going slow in fear of hurting you, the ache from his cock makes a whine leave your mouth.

The pain is welcomed, though. You’ve never felt so close to someone. Never felt so full. As he goes deeper and deeper, you feel yourself stretch around him, allowing him to fill the places deep inside you. The places that you never knew you needed him.

Matty peppers kisses on your cheeks and neck, desperate to comfort you when he sees the expression on your face. “You’re doing so good baby. Feel so fucking good. Almost there.” His voice is strained, like he’s barely holding himself together, falling apart at the seams. Your hands clutch his back, gripping into his skin. He will have some bruises of his own tomorrow to look at.

When he finally bottoms out, he lets out a loud moan. His hands on your hips tighten, grounding him as he stills deep inside of you. He checks on you quickly. “You okay, sweetheart?” He searches your eyes for discomfort, wanting nothing more than to make you feel good. He wants this to be perfect. His chest heaves, trying to catch his breath.

“Yeah, I just…” You take a deep breath, the feeling of his cock filling you up is indescribable. A mix of pain and pleasure. “Just need a minute,” you sigh. The longer he’s inside you, the more the pain fades away. Your body begins to welcome his, almost like it was made for him all along.

“As long as you need. Just tell me when to move.” His voice is calm and caring, not rushing you at all. Matty remains still, cock twitching as you tense around him. He fills the time by kissing your neck. His teeth are completely out of the picture this time. Instead, his lips and tongue delicately smooth over your skin, lingering over the marks he gave you earlier.

When you finally feel ready, you thread one of your hands through his hair while the other digs into his back. “You can move,” you gasp.

“Alright, darling. Tell me if it hurts too much and I’ll stop.” He kisses your lips before he rests his forehead against your own. His eyes are locked with yours while he carefully begins to move inside of you. He’s holding back. Soft groans leave his open mouth. Matty struggles to keep his eyes open as pleasure overwhelms him.

It doesn’t hurt as bad as you thought it would. Both of your hands grip his shoulders. Before you realize you’re doing it, your nails sink into his skin, scratching down his back. “Fuck—” he cries out, not exactly in pain, though. As he continues to thrust inside you, bliss starts to replace the ache inside of you. Your body molds around him. Small whimpers leave your mouth, electricity building in your gut. You need more. Now.

“Matty. Faster. Please.” You cry out. Your legs wrap around his waist, needing him to be even closer to you. You don’t have to tell him twice. He speeds up his movements. His cock grinds in and out of you rapidly, hitting the spot deep inside of you. Your back arches in response. The sensation is overwhelming, running through you all the way to your fingertips. Matty’s fingers, hell, even his tongue is nothing in comparison to his cock. All of those years waiting for a guy were worth it. You have him. You have Matty, and that’s all you need. He fits perfectly inside of you, stretching you like he is made for you.

“Shit. Such a good girl for me. You’re so beautiful, fuck.” His words are breathless. Sweat builds at his brow, falling down the side of his face.

The eye contact melts you into a puddle. It’s intimate. Raw. His forehead still rests on yours. He wants to see you, to see every expression your beautiful face makes. “Kiss me, please. Need you to kiss me.” You beg, needing to feel his lips again. His mouth collides with yours recklessly. It’s messy, but it’s perfect. Matty bites at your lip, letting his tongue sooth over it. You moan into his mouth as his hips snap into you, bringing you closer to the peak of pleasure.

Matty knows you need more from the way you’re squeezing his cock. You’re almost there. One of his hands releases your hip. At first, his hand stops at your lower stomach, pressing down firmly.

“Feel that? Feel my cock in your stomach?” he asks with a broken groan. You shutter at the pressure of his hand.

“Fuck, Matt—” you cry out into his mouth. He moans, cock twitching inside of you when you pulse around him. His hand only stays on your stomach for a moment, traveling down to circle your clit carefully, not wanting to over stimulate you. There would be a chance for that another day. You whimper when his fingers touch you. The heat in your stomach builds rapidly. You are about to snap.

Matty is in no better shape. His hips lose their precision, and he’s trembling from pleasure. He’s doing everything to hold himself together. Moans leaving his lips in rapid successions. Nothing has ever felt more right to him than being inside of you. Your face, your body, and the sounds you make drive him closer to release. When your eyes meet his, completely blown out and in pleasure, he can’t stop the words that leave his mouth.

“I love you.” The phrase leaves his mouth in a groan, like he’s been holding himself back from saying it. It’s true though. His words aren’t a heat of the moment expression. His head falls into your neck, hiding his face from your gaze while he speeds up his hips once again, igniting you from the inside out. You gasp at his words, crying in pleasure as you get closer to your orgasm. You entangle your hands in his hair, pulling his head from your neck so his mouth connects with yours. You kiss him with more passion than you ever have before. It’s a clashing of teeth and tongues. Hot and needy. You hope the kiss makes it clear just how deeply you care about him. You need to tell him though, to use your words like he would want you to. Your hands in his hair pull him back harshly, separating your lips. “I love you too.” Your voice is thin and weak, almost unlike yourself. In an instant, a wide grin breaks across his face. It’s perfect. The moment is perfect.

His hand speeds up on your clit, rubbing tight circles on the bundle of nerves. You’re on the edge of the cliff about to fall off. You try to tell him. “Matty I— Shit, I’m—” Your words fail you, breaking out into helpless whimpers as you hold onto him tighter. Your hands move to his back holding him close. You’ve definitely broken skin by now, but he doesn’t even flinch.

“I know, baby—” He stutters in the middle of his sentence when you pulse around him; he’s nearly about to break. “Come for me. I’m right there.” Those words send you over the edge. You come around him while he rests his forehead on yours, continuing to move through your orgasm as he chases his own release. The rest of the world melts away. Pleasure shocks through you, pulsing through your veins. You’re completely overwhelmed with the feeling of him, gasping his name over and over again. Pure bliss and euphoria wash over you.

Seeing you completely in pleasure underneath him, and hearing you cry out his name so desperately is what sends him over the edge. “Fuck—” he groans. He thrusts a few more times before he completely falls apart, spilling inside of you. His warm cum fills you up deep inside. “God, fucking love you so much,” he gasps, voice nearly unintelligible. You watch as his mouth falls open above you as he loses himself inside of you. You’ve never seen him so lost in pleasure. Words of praise continue to fall from his lips throughout his orgasm before he finally collapses on top of you.

You both lay in silence for a moment, holding each other close while you try to catch your breath. You feel fuzzy, still trembling from the release. Your hands rub at his back, attempting to sooth the nail marks. Matty is the first to say something, worried that you’re shaking from something else entirely.

“Did I hurt you?” Panic paints his face when he meets your eyes.

“No, no. Not at all.” You assure him quickly with your hand on his cheek. “That was perfect. You were perfect.” His lips meet yours again, kissing you softly. When the kiss ends, you are suddenly aware he is still inside of you. “Okay so… what do we do now?” you ask, utterly clueless. They didn’t go over this part in sex ed. He chuckles at your statement, not in a mocking way, though, rather just at the innocence of the question.

“I’m going to take care of you now, sweetheart. Going to pull out, okay?” You nod in response. You wince as he moves out of you, feeling entirely empty without him. “Let me get a washcloth to clean you up. I’ll be right back.”

He returns from the adjoined bathroom quickly with a warm washcloth in hand. His hand meets your knee, indicating for you to part your legs for him. He stares for a moment, hesitating with the washcloth.

When you feel his cum drip out of your cunt, you realize what he is staring at so intensely.

“Are you looking at something interesting?” you tease with a raised eyebrow. He snaps out of it at your words, meeting your eyes again. A light blush appears on his face, growing redder by the second.

“Sorry. I lost myself for a second there.” Matty begins to wipe you off. His hands are delicate and gentle as he presses the warm rag to your center, careful around the sensitive skin.

“No need to apologize. Just didn’t think you would be so into that,” you continue, playing with fire.

His eyes cut back to yours. A shade darker than before. “I just cleaned you off. Are you trying to get me to fill you up again? Because I will. Gladly.” There’s a slight joking tone to his words, but you know his claim is serious. Dead serious.

“I’m already too sore for that.” You smile back at him, feeling the blush rise to your cheeks.

“I think I know of something to help.” His hands wrap around your waist, lifting you off the bed and carrying you to the bathroom. He sets you down gently on the counter, discarding the washcloth in the sink. He walks over to the large bathtub and begins running the water.

“Running a bath? How romantic.”

“Consider it an early apology for how sore you’ll be in the morning, love.”

When the bath is full, he stands you up before he settles down in the bath first. He winces as his back meets the water, stinging in the marks from your nails.

“I’m sorry about that… I’ll be more careful next time,” you say as you step in the tub, sitting directly in front of him.

“Don’t worry about it. I liked it,” he replies. Matty doesn’t waste a second to wrap his arms around you, letting you fully lean back on him. The hot bath water sooths every ache in your body. His hands run over you, massaging your skin. They rub over your arms, and then your stomach. There’s nothing sexually charged about his movements. He’s simply tracing your soft skin, clueless of how he got so lucky to have you in his arms. The water and his touch nearly lull you to sleep before he speaks again.

“Can I wash your hair for you?”

“It’s not two-in-one, is it?”

“Do you think the curls on my head would be intact if I used two-in-one?” he laughs. “Scoot forward a bit and lay back for me.” He lets your hair fully submerge in the water before applying shampoo to your scalp. His fingertips massage your scalp, and you find yourself humming peacefully at the sensation. After washing the shampoo out, he repeats the same process with conditioner. Just when you think he’s about done, Matty grabs a loofah from the side of the tub lathering it with his body soap. Smells of bergamot fill your nose as he rubs the loofa over your body.

“Want me to smell like you, huh?”

“That’s just a bonus of taking proper care of you.” He takes his time to rinse the soap off of you. You’re completely clean. “Come on, let’s get you dried off.” Matty wipes away the water on your body with a clean towel, drying himself off quickly with another one next. He guides you to sit on a chair in the bathroom. “Be right back.” He says, walking back into the bedroom. Matty returns wearing a new pair of boxers, holding a t-shirt and another fresh pair of boxers in his hand. He helps you get dressed, pulling the boxers over your hips before putting your shirt on.

“Going to dry your hair now. Don’t want you falling asleep with wet hair.” He takes out a hairdryer from underneath the sink and begins to dry your hair. He runs his fingers through your scalp as he maneuvers your hair to make sure it’s all dry. Matty is focused on the task, biting his lip in concentration.

“Do you do this every time? Or are you just trying to impress me?” you ask after he turns off the hair dryer.

“I’ll do it every time if you want. I’ll do anything you say, love.”

Matty carries you back to bed, getting under the covers right after you. You lay your head on his chest. The sound of his heartbeat rings strongly in your ear. His arms wrap around you. You’ve never felt safer than with him.

“I really do love you, Matty. Never felt like this before,” you admit, pressing soft kiss to his neck.

“I love you, too. I’m so fucking glad I walked into that coffee shop.”

#matty healy x reader #matty healy smut #matty healy #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 #matty healy fanfic #matty healy imagine #the 1975 smut

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octuscle · 1 year ago

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Full time barista here I’ve always been envious of the men on stage especially the heavy weights. Don’t want to over work the chronivac but help me become a muscle bull as big as jean pierre fux.

Mate, I understand you only too well…. There are few things hotter than the real heavy beefcakes. I've tried it long enough myself… But I didn't make it either. Jean Pierre is a pretty good role model… But I have an idea…

Friday morning. It's 06:00, you have to hurry, in one hour you have to prepare the first coffee. You don't have time for much more than a few situps and pushups. In the bathroom you have to hurry. You need longer and longer to conceal your receding hairline. You are now 40 years old, slowly you just notice that you are getting older. If you go out tonight to party, it will take you almost the whole Saturday to recover. The cosmetic industry has nothing effective to offer against the wrinkles in the corners of your eyes. And even if you don't need to be ashamed of your body: You won't gain much more muscle in your lifetime.

Shit, at 07:00 o'clock people are already queuing up. You hate it when you can't open the store in peace. But as it looks, it will be 10:00 o'clock, until you have the first moment of rest. In fact, it's even 10:30 when your colleague thinks you can take a break. If you need it, he adds with a wink. You look fantastic today! You take a mineral water and sit down in the warehouse. In fact, you feel pretty damn good right now. You drink the water in one go. You don't have much time for a break. And you have to piss again before the lunch business starts. Your lower jaw drops as you wash your hands. Fuck, what happened to you. There are no more receding hairlines or laugh lines. You look ten years younger than when you got up today. The only difference is that you look as if you'd spent the last ten years doing little else but lifting iron. Your T-shirt is almost blown up by your biceps and pecs. And your jeans look like they're painted on your monstrous legs. How could you not notice that? As you tie the apron back on your way back to the counter, you wonder why you were just amazed. Since your 20th birthday, you've spent every spare minute at the gym, investing every penny you earn in protein and supplements. Hell, if you didn't look the way you do, you would have wasted a hell of a lot of time and money.

The calm in your coffee bar begins to subside again. The lunch business is starting up. There's a beefcake in your line that makes you jealous. Yo, bro! he greets you. It's nice to see that there are real men working here, too. What you can recommend to him. You suggest the protein bomb. A scramble of 10 eggs with 400 grams of chicken breast. He grins and nods. And a liter of still mineral water. The bro shares your taste. While you type everything into the register, he asks you if you're all-natural. Of course you are. With the money for the meal, he slides you a card. In case you want to think about it.

It is 17:00 o'clock, when you tie off your apron. Fuck' according to your watch you have walked 12,000 steps today on the few square meters behind the counter. But it also looks like it's been a pretty good day so far. You're 20 now, and the idea of opening your own café with healthy and, above all, protein-rich food came to you when you were 16. That's when you started getting into high performance bodybuilding. And a place like this was missing at that time. And then you built this place with your mentor and trainer as a straw man. But you can't stand behind the counter for more than ten hours. Even if you are the best advertisement for your products, you have to work out at least four hours every day. Otherwise you don't stand a chance on the big stage.

You might not be one of the big ones yet… But you are on a really good way to get there. You met Jean Pierre Fux once at a fitness fair in Germany. A great role model for you. And he said that at your age he would have been a linnet compared to you. The prerequisites for a brilliant career are there. Enjoy it and make the best of it!

This and other hot pics @anton227ludwig

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #chronivac #male transformation #muscle transformation #tank top #inked man #age reduction

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porcelainmortal · 5 months ago

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Happy Friday! How about some firstprince and 🩵 Turquoise: Magic? 👀

Thank you for the ask @myheartalivewrites!! I am sorry this took so long, but, well... it is a bit long. This "ficlet" clocks in at 1100 words and I cut it down so many times, but alas. It's a fat ficlet. I hope you love it just the same!! 💕

Selena Martinez, in her little shop below a Jewish deli in the East Village, told a somewhat lost Alex that his dream job was in New York City. Not two months after finishing school in D.C. did Alex land the perfect job. And he hadn't even applied; a former professor of his had recommended him to a colleague in the city and they'd called and offered it to him. It was like magic.

Alex never believed in psychics – mediums, tarot cards, crystals, Ouija boards – it was all a bunch of bullshit in his book. But, he'd visited June in New York City two years ago and she'd brought him to a psychic she swore would change his life and fuck if she wasn't right.

So, now two years and two months after moving to New York, Alex is heading back to Psychic Selena, as he affectionately calls her, to ask about his love life. His time on the New York dating scene has confirmed exactly two things: 1) he’s definitely bisexual and 2) dating is exhausting. He intends to ask Selena where and when he might meet the love of his life.

Selena is exactly as he remembers; a thick Spanish accent, long, somewhat untamed hair, and lots of jewelry. She reminds him a bit of his great aunt on his dad's side. And Salma Hayek. She's a true Bruja, June says, and Alex trusts her.

She greets him at the door and gets right down to business.

“I'll need a personal item,” she says, holding out a hand. He had to do this last time, too, so he hands her the key from around his neck again. Last time she had commented how it pulsed strongly with his energy and commended him on his choice. She doesn't dole out the same praise this time and part of him wilts a bit in disappointment.

She steps over to a table against the wall and starts arranging some items.

“You're not going to read my cards again?” He asks nervously.

Last time she had just wrapped his key around her wrist, shuffled some tarot cards, and did a fairly quick reading. Alex had worried about how much June spent on it until it turned out to be worth every penny.

“Soulmate magic is a bit more complicated.”

“Soulmate?” Alex asks. “That's a real thing?”

“Mhm," she nods, spooning loose leaf tea into a small teapot.

“Does everyone have one?”

“No,” she says, peering at him sideways. “But you do.”

Alex’s heart thuds.

“And you can help me find them?”

“If you're meant to. Seeking the unknown is a risk, and if it’s too soon, this won’t work.”

“Oh,” Alex replies dumbly. Knowing he has a fucking soulmate out there is not helping his impatience.

She stirs the tea in careful circles, murmuring in Spanish that's too low for Alex to hear. He waits, trying not to fidget anxiously.

“Drink this,” she says eventually, turning to hand him a cup.

“I'm really more of a coffee guy,” he says, staring into the dark brew, which seems to almost shimmer like she'd dropped edible gold dust in it.

“I must read your tea leaves,” Selena explains with a wave of her hand, sitting down at the table opposite him. She takes out her tarot cards and begins shuffling.

He drinks the tea, which surprisingly tastes pretty good. It's a bit earthy with a hint of something citrusy and almost grassy, like matcha. Alex hated matcha when he tried it once, as a way to curb his coffee addiction, because he thought it tasted like a freshly mown lawn, but this is more of a refreshing flavor. It brings to mind warm summer days at the lake and clear blue waters he wants to swim in.

He downs the tea quickly because Selena has now placed a bunch of cards on the table face down and is eyeing him with thinly veiled impatience. When he hands over his mug, she looks into the bottom of the cup.

“Oh,” she says with some surprise. “This man is already in your life.”

“He is?”

“Mhm.” She puts the mug to the side and places a few more cards down on top of the other ones. She begins flipping them over, humming quietly to herself a bit before speaking. “You have worked with this man. He is likely tall, fair-haired–”

“So it's not Regé-Jean Page?” Alex jokes. Selena levels him with a look, shutting him up immediately.

“I get the sense he is not American,” she continues as she flips more cards. “Perhaps descended from royalty.”

“I’m sorry, did you just say royalty?”

“Mhm,” she responds, not looking at him. “You don’t know him well but he seeks you out.” She taps a card.

Alex looks over the cards and recognizes a few from June’s dabbling – The Lovers, the Ace of Cups, The Sun – but Selena doesn’t explain the meaning behind each one. She points to a few here and there, talks about the symbolism of the suits and the body language of the characters, and Alex tries to keep up. She concludes the reading with a soft smile.

“You have a long and happy future with this person, if you commit to loving them. You are twin flames, made for each other in every way.”

“Wait– you said ‘him’ before and now you’re saying ‘them.’ Is it a woman or a man?”

“All signs indicate this is a male lover, but I can’t be entirely sure, you understand.”

Alex nods, taking back his key when she holds it out to him and looping the chain around his neck. He gets up and heads toward the door, but something stops him. He turns around.

“You said I have a soulmate before you even started the reading.”

“I can sense it in your aura, your soul crying out for its other half.”

It nearly makes him want to cry. Alex has never considered himself incomplete or missing something, but he has always wished for someone who could understand him and be his true match. Like Nora and June. He exits Selena’s shop and steps onto the sidewalk.

“Oh, pardon me,” a voice says, as someone exiting the deli knocks into his right. Alex turns in surprise, his reply dying on his tongue as his eyes land on Henry Fox, someone he met briefly through work about a year before and has seen only in passing since then. Alex takes in the tall, blond, British man with eyes like a clear blue lake and– oh. Oh. He smiles.

#firstprince ficlet #ficlet friday #ficlet prompts #pride flag ficlet #magic #psychics #alex is a reformed skeptic #henry is his soulmate #in every universe #alex x henry #rwrb fanfic #ficlet fail

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mynameismckenziemae · 1 year ago

Text

She’s a Fire-Chapter III

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x OFC/Reader (no use of y/n)

So hot there’s smoke

(previous chapter here, next chapter here)

Warnings: fluff, masturbation, oral (m receiving), dirty talk

You give Bradley your number after you make a tentative plan to hang out on Friday since you’re not sure what your schedule will be yet. You send him down to Penny’s with a kiss and a butt squeeze when he turns.

You and fall into bed shortly after.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

A loud back-up beeper jolts you awake. You look at your phone; 6:47 AM. What on earth?

You look out the window and see your movers have backed into Penny’s driveway, and started throwing items out. You cringe at how roughly they’re handling your stuff. You pull a sweatshirt on and head down the stairs just as you see them drop your bed frame, cracking it.

You sigh heavily before asking, “Weren’t you guys supposed to come tomorrow? Preferably after 8:00 AM?”

“Sorry about your bed frame, that’ll be comped. There was a change of plans, we gotta be back to Denver before tomorrow.” One of the movers replies.

“Okay, I guess? Let me just move some stuff around upstairs first.”

“Go ahead, the stuff will be here when you get down back.” He replies.

“Excuse me? I have to bring it all up myself? That’s not what I paid for.” Now you’re getting irritated.

“Yeah, the boss man said we gotta be back tonight, so you’ll have to figure it out. Call tomorrow morning and they’ll comp ya for that too.”

What the fuck. “Uh no, that’s not—“

“What’s going on out here?” Bradley asks as he comes out of Penny’s sliding door, yawning while he pulls his tank on. Holy biceps.

You walk over to him as he eyes your bare legs. “They were supposed to be here tomorrow and bring everything upstairs. But they apparently need to be back in Denver by tonight so I’m on my own. They also broke my bedframe” you sigh.

“I’ll help ya. I’ve got nothing to do today and it’s that much stuff. My buddy owns a furniture store across town, he’ll hook ya up with a bedframe and I can bring it over with the Bronco, get it set up for ya if you’d want?”

“Seriously? You’d do all that?”

“‘Course. I’d be happy to, plus it’s supposed to rain later, I don’t want your stuff to get wet.”

“That would be great, thank you so much.”

“No problem, where do we start?”

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

20 minutes later you’ve got the furniture out of the way so you can get the mattress and boxes in. The moving truck is already gone. They’re getting a one-star review on Yelp. Assholes.

Pete and Penny see the pile of stuff in the driveway and come out to help too. The hardest part is squeezing the mattress through the doorframe, but it’s easy sailing after that, and within an hour it’s all out of the driveway.

They ask if you need help unpacking but you politely decline as you’re not sure where everything is going yet.

“I’m going to the bar to do payroll, did you want a ride?” Penny asks Bradley.

“Yeah, thanks.” He turns to you. “I’ll run home and shower and then I’ll be back to pick you up?”

“That’d be great.” You smile, ignoring the knowing looks you’re getting from Pete and Penny.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

You put a few necessary things away and get your stuff ready for tomorrow before showering yourself, throwing on a pair of jean shorts and an oversized white tee.

A clean vintage Bronco pulls in and you meet Bradley in the driveway, he looks good enough to eat in another tight pair of jeans and a gray t-shirt as he holds the passenger door open for you.

“I ran through Starbucks, got you a vanilla latte and a breakfast sandwich, the bag is on the floor in the back,” he says as he climbs in the driver's side.

Unexpected tears spring to your eyes, but you quickly blink them away. You clear the lump from your throat. “That’s so thoughtful, thank you. Sunny give you my order?”

“No problem, I like coffee too.” He holds up his cup, “And yeah she did, there’s too many options for me to try and guess.”

“Well, I’m impressed. My dad is the only other man who’s ever bought me coffee.”

“Really? It’s such a simple thing.”

“It is. But I’m not used to guys taking initiative or putting in the effort. Another reason I decided to take a break from dating.”

“Yeah, I can see that. It helps that I was raised by a single mom.”

“Sounds like she was quite the woman, to raise a man as amazing as you.”

He blushes at your words and squeezes your knee. “Thanks, Row”.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Bradley pulls into a furniture store and leaves you at the door before parking.

He leads you inside and helps you look. You eventually pick out a wrought iron one but aren’t sure on what color/finish.

“Do you think this finish will scratch?” You ask, gesturing to the black one.

“Scratch? From what?”

“Handcuffs, of course” you deadpan.

He flushes but laughs. “Nah, should be fine. These are good quality.”

“I hope so. I’d hate to have to punish you for scratching it” you tell him before turning away to find an associate as he gapes after you.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Your luck is changing, they have the frame you want in store so you’re able to bring it home today, unassembled of course.

The clouds are starting to spit as he pulls into the driveway, and it starts coming down harder when you’re halfway up the stairs, helping him carry the box. You both laugh as you get it inside and set it down. Your top-halves took the brunt of it, soaking both your shirts.

He looks at your chest and swallows heavily before meeting your eyes again. You look down and your tee and bralette are now see-through, nipples at attention from the cold rain. You turn and strip the wet material off, teasing him with a view of your bare back while you walk to the bathroom for some towels.

You hang the wet items over the shower rod and cover yourself with a towel, before grabbing one for him too.

“Do you want to hang up your shirt?”

“Sure, thanks,” he says with gravel in his voice. You look down while he’s pulling his shirt off and can see the thick line of his erection pressing against his jeans.

He hands you the shirt and he dries off with the towel quickly before handing it over too. You hang it all up in the bathroom and walk back out, topless.

He inhales sharply and watches as you pull out a box of clothes, digging through for a shirt and bra.

He comes up behind you and reaches around you to cup your breasts. His rough, calloused fingers rub across your nipples and you sigh, head dropping back against his chest.

“You like to tease me, don’t you?” He murmurs by your ear.

“Mmm, yeah. I do. I like it when you blush and get all flustered. Especially since I think this is new for you, you’re used to being the one in control, aren’t you?” You say as you turn in his arms, bare chests now together.

“Yeah, you’re definitely throwing me for a loop. I don’t know what to expect from you, and I like it.” He replies before leaning down to kiss you.

You return it, licking the seam of his lips as your hands go to his nipples. “Anyone ever play with these?” You murmur against his lips.

“Not really, not like you-fuckkk” he pulls back from your lips to groan as you pinch lightly.

“That’s a shame,” you kiss the scar on his jaw, then neck, and down below his collarbone. “cause you’re so responsive. Do you like it?”

He sighs and nods as you suck his nipple into your mouth. “Yeah”.

“Good.” You reply as you kiss your way to the other side. You suck that one into your mouth next and gently bite while pinching the other. His cock twitches against your stomach.

You kiss your way lower, settling on your knees. You pull him out and trace the head on your lips as you look up at him under your lashes before you draw him into your mouth. You moan around him and he shudders, hands clenching at his sides, “Fuck, Rowan. That, ah…feels fucking amazing.”

“Mmm,” you agree around him and take his hands to guide them in your hair.

He grips your hair and gently thrusts before pulling back and repeating the motion. He’s watching you under half-lidded eyes and his chest is heaving. Each thrust draws a delicious gasp out of him, driving you crazy. Your hand goes in the front of your shorts, to rub tight circles on your clit. “Oh God, are you touching yourself?

You moan around him again and nod, eyes falling closed from the pleasure.

“Fuck, that’s hot.”

Your free hand reaches between his legs, rolling his balls in your fingers, and his hips thrust deeper on their own accord.

You feel that familiar tightening and pull him deeper into your mouth, too far gone to notice your gag reflex as your nose brushes the neatly trimmed hair below his navel. Your orgasm hits you, moaning and whining around his cock, drool dripping down your chin.

“Jesus, you’re so pretty when you cum. Fuckfuckfuck I’m close. Where do you want me to-?”

Your hands fly to his ass and pull him deeper into your mouth, swallowing around him.

His hands tighten the grip on your hair as he cums with a broken moan and you swallow his salty spend.

He helps you to your feet and kisses you deeply, his chest rumbles as he tastes himself in your mouth. “Rowan, you are…” he trails off with a chuckle, “just, uh…wow”.

You smile and tuck him back in his pants. “I can get it myself, but do you want to help me put the frame together? It’s probably easier with 2 people. I can order some food?”

“Yeah, sounds great. I wouldn’t make you put it together yourself.”

“Thanks! Now where do you suggest I order from?” You say stepping around him to find your phone, landing a sharp swat to his right butt cheek. You smirk to yourself as he sucks in a breath.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

You slip a shirt on, forgoing a bra, and order the food while Bradley starts on the frame. You help him after, and are almost done with it when the food arrives.

You take a break to eat on your bedroom floor and laugh as he tells you stories about growing up with Sunny.

“… and that’s how I broke my arm the second time. The worst part was that I was the one who got in trouble, even though she pushed me. She cried though, and admitted to it…after my mom got through with me, of course. She used to be like the little sister I never wanted, but I’m so glad to have her now.”

“I think you were just a naughty little boy” you wink, “but yes, she really is the best. I feel so bad we drifted apart when she was dating her ex. I didn’t realize at the time how awful he was treating her, I wish I would’ve known. I could’ve helped her” you say, poking at your food. You’ll always feel bad for missing the signs was she was being mistreated.

“Hey, it’s not your fault. She was good at hiding it, and by the time we-Jake, Nat, and I, realized how bad it was, we ended up deployed for 4 months with little to no phone privileges. Thankfully she kicked him to the curb, and Pete was home when she found him cheating. It’s sure been something to watch her come back alive being with Bobby-boy though.”

“Agreed. They’re perfect together. How long ‘til he pops the question you think?”

“Less than a year, guaranteed.” He replies, his lip quirking.

“That long? I was thinking 6 months.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me. He’s crazy about her.”

“That he is. I wonder what that’s like, being so head over heels for someone, knowing them as well as you know yourself, unable to imagine life without them? I hope I have that someday. I didn’t really believe it was possible until my dad met my stepmom. I was so angry and jealous at the time that I didn’t see how beautiful it was to watch them fall in love. I don’t know how she ever forgave me for how awful I was.” You sigh, still embarrassed years later at your behavior.

“You were just a kid, who had her dad to herself for years. It’s understandable. I probably would’ve been the same way if my mom would’ve dated.”

You hum in agreement and finish eating. He finishes the frame and you can hear things moving as you as you wash the dishes you used.

You walk back into the bedroom to find him pulling on the last pillowcase. He’d finished the frame, pulled the mattress onto it, and made your bed.

Those unexpected tears are back and you try to blink them back as you walk over to hug him from behind, but a few escape your eyes.

He can hear them in your voice as you thank him for everything he helped you with today and he turns to lift your chin. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you laugh wetly. “I just-I’m used to doing everything on my own, no one’s taken care of me in years. We just met and you spent your entire day off helping me, without being asked. Sorry, I’m not usually a crier, I don’t-“

“It’s okay. I was just afraid I overstepped.” He kisses you so tenderly that more tears start. “I’d love it if you’d let me take care of you, any way you’ll let me.”

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

A/N: Ew, so fluffy at the end there 😂 kidding, kidding.

Taglist:

@its-the-pilot

@dizzybee03

@sweetwhispersofchaos

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster top gun #top gun maverick #she’s a fire

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 6 months ago

Text

To Have Loved and Lost Part Nine

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part

Pairing: George Russell x Reader

Rating: M

Notes: It's been EIGHTY FOUR YEARS I am so sorry. Maybe two more chapters on this one.

Warnings: ANGSTY But also fluffy :D ; there's a time shift, it doesn't completely align with the show's timeline. Bear with me. Also this is not a story with a traditional happy ending!

Summary: In the last year, you had been made incredibly aware of the ways in which you were not Bertha Russell.

“It’s coming along well.”

“As well as it can, I suppose,” You conceded. Mrs. Russell’s lips pursed with a smile as she plied,

“Even you must admit that there has been great progress.”

You grimaced, tipping your head to the side a touch. “Not as much as there should’ve been at this rate.” It had been a long, difficult winter. There had been so many delays as a result of high winds and heavy snow.

“There’s only so much that you can do to control the weather.”

“As much as I can do, yes. Something tells me that you wouldn’t have allowed a blizzard to come between you and your home.”

“Perhaps, but you and I are not the same.”

She said it with such flippancy that it made you laugh and shake your head. But as she climbed out of the carriage ahead of you, you had to fight away a latent wave of bitterness.

In the last year, you had been made incredibly aware of the ways in which you were not Bertha Russell.

George truly had done well, choosing a fellow strategist. In your quiet moments, you couldn’t help but wonder, had things been different—had you joined him in New York when you were meant to—might you have been in the public eye, as she was? Might you have pushed yourself into the social scene with the same vigor? When you were young, you may have had the ambition. You’d been ready enough to forsake your family for what had once believed to be a great love. Maybe you could have made the strides…No.

For George, you would have made the strides.

“Do you intend to admire Mr. White’s handiwork from the safety of your carriage?”

Bertha’s taunt broke you from your regretful reverie, and you took hold of the footman’s hand, allowing him to let you help him down. You strode to Bertha’s side, matching her pace as you neared the bright façade of the house.

“I wonder where your head is sometimes,” Bertha commented.

“I’ve a number of matters that I’m engaged with at present. My mind wanders.”

“I’m fully aware. I’ve seen you drift off into fairyland in the midst of countless dinners.”

“I’m always listening,” You insisted, leading the way into the house.

“That I believe.”

You hummed softly, looking around the foyer. It was large, though not nearly as large as the Russell’s. It couldn’t be, given the city lot that Franklin had bought. But, you were more than pleased with what had been accomplished. Your two-floor compact mansion had all of the trimmings expected of the great families of New York, and was only a block from the Russell’s.

“Have you much left to do?” Bertha asked.

You shook your head a little, leading the way toward the sitting room.

“The ballroom is left to be completed and the bedrooms are to be painted and papered, but that is the most of it, I believe.”

“What’s stopped the work?...Budgeting concerns?”

You cast her a sidelong glance, fully aware of the barbed, couched curiosity in her question.

“No. The materials for the floor were backordered and it’s been too humid to paint.”

“I see.”

“I hope that you do. My cousin may not be as wealthy as your husband, but he’s hardly pinching pennies.”

“I’m well aware. George says that the sales have far exceeded what your cousin promised.”

“Franklin doesn’t like to make promises that he can’t keep. Nor do I.”

“Speaking of promises, are you still expecting to come to Newport for this next week?”

You gave Bertha a grimacing smile, bracing for her disappointment.

“Franklin and Eleanor will join you for Friday, but I’m sorry to say I will not be able to join you until Monday.”

“You’ll miss half the fun. May I ask why?”

“I’ve been neglecting my sorting of Franklin’s work at the office—”

“He has assistants for that, doesn’t he?”

“He does, but the new girl hasn’t been trained up properly yet and the receipts have gone to hell.” It flew out of your mouth before you could stop it, and you lifted a gloved hand to cover your mouth as your face went hot. But Bertha ignored the profanity, waving off your comment as she demanded: “What else?”

“Mr. White is having materials delivered that I will need to sign off on.”

“On the weekend?”

“On Saturday, yes. I want eyes on them the moment that they arrive, so that I may correct any disparities right away. I don’t want the work delayed any further.”

“I understand.”

“But I will join as soon as I’m able.”

“I am glad to hear it.”

“As am I. And Eleanor is incredibly excited.”

“Is she?”

“She’s heard a fair amount about Newport from Gladys, of course. She’s felt terribly left out.”

“She is young.”

“I know,” You nodded, looking around the sitting room. “But…It wears on you more, I think. When you are young.”

“I can hardly remember that feeling. Can you?”

“...All too well.”

“Will you be able to join us at all?”

George took up his glass of wine, taking a deep pull as he mulled over his answer. He’d known for a few days that he would have to disappoint his wife. He had no doubt of her annoyance in this regard. She’d planned on entertaining on Saturday evening, and while she could shoulder it with Larry, it was far more advantageous if they were both there.

“I should be able to get away for a couple of days,” He admitted, “But I’d arrive on the Monday.”

Bertha hummed in thought, but George could sense the soft, disappointed note in his wife’s voice.

“I would join sooner if I could,” He added, lips tipped in an apologetic smile.

She shook her head: “I understand. Perhaps you could escort Mr. Hughes’ sad cousin when you do travel.”

Sad cousin. It struck a chord in him that he had nearly forgotten. They had made such great strides that the last year had been so terribly cordial between the two of them. If he was pressed for the truth of their relationship—or some form of the truth of it, as it was now—he would go so far as to say that they were friends. George was almost certain that she and Bertha were in good standing with one another; they joined one another frequently for events, teas, balls, dinners.

Perhaps that was why the use of sad caught him so off-guard, and seemed to hit him in the vicinity of below the belt.

His hesitation went unnoticed as Bertha beckoned a servant closer to top off her glass of wine.

“Her house is coming along,” She added.

“Oh?”

“Mm. There’s been a back up on building materials, but she’s managing. Mr. Hughes and Eleanor will arrive in Newport on the Friday, and they’ll attend at least the tea, though I’m certain Eleanor will have to remain behind on Saturday evening, poor thing.”

“Perhaps she’ll be able to visit with Gladys. I know that they enjoy their time together.”

“They do. I daresay Eleanor has had a good effect on her.”

“Really.” His brow wrinkled, intrigued. “What makes you say that?”

“I think having Eleanor around and remembering the way it was before has made her grateful for the freedom she’s afforded.” Bertha leaned back a touch as the servants stepped in to clear the plates. “I’ve heard far less belly-aching about the events that we’ve allowed her to attend lately.”

George nodded a touch, considering. It was true—Gladys had seemed to be in fine fettle for the last few months, and it was in no doubt in part due to the time that she spent with Eleanor.

“I do want to hold a dinner on Monday when you’ve arrived, and with the cousin as well. Can I count on you to extend the invitation?” Bertha asked. “I’m certain she’ll be more likely to accept if you show her the attention. She receives it so rarely.”

George’s hands twisted in his napkin before he lifted it from his lap, setting it on the table as he gave Bertha a small, reassuring smile.

“I’d be happy to.”

The rented Hughes home that they had procured had a dark, foreboding façade, but George knew well enough that the inside was light and airy. He had been there for a few drop-ins, meetings, and dinners as needed for the last year. He’d seen her run a tight ship.

Despite his promise, George had lagged in presenting her with the invitation that he had promised Bertha he would impart. He wished that he could excuse that his week had gotten away from him, and it had, some—but he had felt some block, some resistance to running the invitation over. By all rules and conventions, it was wholly unnecessary. It made far more sense for Bertha to send the invitation directly. But, there he was, knocking on the Hughes’ door, and smiling blithely as the butler opened the door.

“I’m here to speak with the mistress of the house.”

“I’m afraid the mistress of the house is not seeing anyone this evening, sir.”

“I see…Thank you.”

George walked down the front steps calmly and slowly, turning his cane in his hand. He would have to send it by mail, as soon as he was able. He was set to climb back into his carriage, and then a breeze pushed across his face. It brought a familiar scent with it—one that drew him back to his youth, when his beard was merely peach fuzz coating his work-blushed cheeks. He glanced back toward the side passageway, likely the servants’ entrance, then turned back to his coachman.

“Return to the house,” He ordered. “I’ll make my own way back.”

The coachman tipped his hat to George before urging the carriage on. George glanced around the street to ensure no one was watching before he dipped into the side passageway, descending the stairs. He peered in through the window into the kitchen, eyes narrowed a touch. He took a cursory glance toward the alley before he raised his cane, rapping it twice on the window.

You jumped about a sound at the knock, your head twitching toward the window. You drew in a stunned, nervous breath as you hurriedly rounded the table, drying your hands on your apron before pulling the door open.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’ve an invitation to give you.”

“You couldn’t have left it upstairs?” You peered around the doorway before you reached out, grasping his arm and pulling him inside. You cast one more look about for nosy neighbors before shutting the door. You turned to find George wandering more deeply into the kitchen, his hat in hand as he peered around.

“Well?” You tacked on. George didn’t turn to meet your eye or answer you. He just walked over to the stove, lowering his head to take a whiff at the bubbling pot there.

“It’s a little hot for stew, isn’t it?” He asked, glancing back at you.

“…Perhaps,” You agreed, “But it was the only thing I wanted.”

George’s lips pulled with a small smile as he turned his head, lowering it to take another sniff. You ought to extract the invitation and go. If anyone found you with George, you’d catch hell for it. Worse—Franklin and Ellie would catch hell for it. But—

“…Have you eaten yet?”

It was odd to see George in a state that you now considered so terribly dressed down. He’d hung his hat, coat, and suit jacket by the door, and rolled his sleeves up. The windows by the kitchen and down the hall had been opened, allowing a warm breeze to push through the room.

“Your butler told me you weren’t seeing anyone.”

“I’m not.” You glanced up at George to find him giving you a smug little smile. “This doesn’t count. You just—Barged in.”

“I may’ve been uninvited, but you offered me dinner.”

“I suppose that’ll teach me.”

It probably wouldn’t. George smiled nonetheless, dipping his spoon into the bowl and drawing out the red broth, along with bits of bean, celery, and chicken.

“Did you give your chef conjure the recipe of this based on your old notes?”

“No. I made it myself. I sent almost everyone else up to Newport with Eleanor and Franklin.”

George’s brows rose in surprise as he lowered the spoon again.

“All?” He repeated, eyes darting toward the stairs.

“Robinson wouldn’t go. He insisted on staying, on the off-chance something happened, or I needed help.”

“And the chef left you nothing?”

“He offered, but…” You shook your head, eyes lowering to your food. “It’s strange. There were so many things I swore I’d never do again once I left Stevensville. But now that I have the choice of not doing them, I…Miss them.”

“Including the washing up?”

“Not that. Never that.”

“Leave it for them.”

“I can’t do that,” You groaned, laughing. “I told the chef I would go to Del Monico’s.”

“Robinson is a witness to the opposite.”

“He’ll cover for me.”

“Why send them with the others?”

“Franklin and Eleanor are in Newport, less of a household to care for. And it’s hard to get some alone time in a household full of people.”

George nodded a touch, eyes wandering your face. You turned your head after a moment, unable to bear the force of his focus.

“I take it your family is waiting for you at home?”

“…No,” George said. “They’re similarly occupied in Newport.”

“Ah, that’s right. It’s a popular destination these days.”

“Indeed.”

“And surely cooler than it is in the city now.”

“Almost certainly.”

“Your son mentioned your intention of buying a home there.”

“Yes. I expect Bertha will return with news and a price tag.”

You smiled a little bit.

“If that’s the trend, I’m certain Franklin will want one for himself as well. I cannot imagine how Ellie’s head must be spinning.”

You glanced back, doing a double-take at the sound of creaking on the stairs. You sprang up from your chair, waving George up hurriedly and toward the back doorway, his hat, coat, and suit jacket in hand. You shushed him softly before rushing back to the table, taking up George’s bowl, spoon, and wine glass and hurrying to the empty wash bin. You lowered them in quickly, then turned toward the door, smoothing your expression and raising your brows as Robinson rounded into the room.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, miss.”

“Not at all, Robinson. Is there something I can help you with?”

“No—No. Simply…”

You arched a brow at Robinson twisting, nervous expression.

“Yes?” You pressed.

“I thought I heard someone else’s voice, ma’am.”

Your heart thudded in your chest, your cheeks heating as you fought to keep a calm countenance, fingers tightening slightly on the edge of the wash bin.

“Perhaps it was merely sound that came in from outside. This house does carry noise so oddly.”

Robinson’s lips twitched nervously before he gave a nod.

“Of course, ma’am. I’m sorry to have disturbed you.”

“Not a disturbance at all. Thank you for coming to look in on me. I do appreciate it.”

“Of course.”

He gave the kitchen one more cursory look before walking back up the stairs. You glanced after him, hearing the stair creaking again. You hurried over to the door, pushing it closed before you turned back. You found George peering curiously around the corner, and your stomach lurched at the sight. It was so similar to once he’d given you so many times, so long ago.

“Is it clear?” He murmured.

“I believe so, yes.”

You glanced up through the door again, even as George stepped out from his hiding place again.

“Your food in the bin—It’s empty,” You insisted, taking in his disappointed moue. George walked over to the bin and reached in, only retrieving his wine glass.

“Are you so worried about someone finding us together?”

“It would be unwise,” You pointed out, walking back to the table to retrieve your wine. “And it’s not for the sake of my reputation.”

“Mine?”

“I suppose, in some respect—but you would recover well enough in society. It’s mostly for the sake of this household.”

“I was under the impression that you bore very little love for Franklin.”

“Franklin and I have…An understanding. And I worry more for Eleanor. She has yet to make her debut, and I won’t have her make it in a house with a cloud of scandal over it.”

“…You care deeply for her.”

“I do.”

“You act as though she was your own daughter.”

It wasn’t an accusation by any means, but it still made your gut twist with discomfort. You lowered your gaze to your hands, picking absently at your neatly manicured nails. There were a few flecks beneath them—bits of spice from when you’d cooked, mess where there hadn’t been for a long time.

“…She’s the only chance I’ll have at arranging something of this sort,” You reminded him.” I want it to be perfect.”

George smiled a touch, lowering his eyes to his wine.

“Bertha was quite insistent on the importance of Gladys’ coming out.”

“They are very important. It lays the foundation for their season. A rocky path could either mean a dangerous ascent or a speedy descent. I don’t want that for her.”

You heard George hum thoughtfully before the light thud of his glass being set down.

“On that note—or rather, an analogous one,” His footsteps grew closer. “I’ve an invitation for you.”

“An invitation?” Your brow furrowed. “Have I missed something?”

“Not at all. Bertha asked me to deliver it personally, and to accompany you on our mutual trip to Newport on Monday.”

Your brows rose again at the sight of the invitation, and you reached out, plucking the envelope from your fingers.

“Unorthodox,” You muttered.

“My wife isn’t known for walking the straight and narrow.”

His wife. The reminder had ceased to sting in the way that it had when you first arrived in New York, but it always lodged a lump in your throat.

“I’ve noticed,” You chuckled softly, forcing past the discomfort.

“I will pick you up on Monday. Will three be alright?”

“Yes. Thank you for taking the pains to come and deliver this,” You added, drawing the invitation out of the envelope and scanning Bertha’s familiar handwriting.

“Of course. Thank you for dinner.”

You huffed humourlessly, humming as you heard him make for the door.

“It’s better,” He commented. You frowned, looking up.

“Pardon?”

“The stew,” George nodded to the washbin. “It’s better than I remember.” He tipped his hat to you before setting it fully on his head. Your smile widened as he melted from your sight, the sound of the door closing behind him, and his footsteps fading.

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#George Russell x Reader #George Russell x You #George Russell/Reader #George Russell/You #George Russell fic #George Russell imagine #George Russell the Gilded Age #To Have Loved and Lost

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