#i gotta call my mom and tell her to explain | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lolaxbunnyy · 10 months ago

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IDK IF YOU STILL DO MY HERO ACADEMIA AS IM NEW- but I love your writing so

What about poly Bakugo, Deku, Todoroki x Fem!reader who’s nine months pregnant, due any day now. She’s about to go into labor but they’re not home due to a mission

Idk if I explained this well 💀

also I hope this is good enough I haven’t been on here in a while 😬 . Also I gave the baby a name and a gender if you want something else then you can feel free to change it. Also if anybody has anything they would like me to write please ask!

warnings: fem black reader, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of birth, nothing bad though just enjoy.

SHOTO, IZUKU, AND KATSUKI. The top three most amazing and well known pro heros who were well loved by their fans had a little secret. They had a pretty little wife who was carrying one of their babies. Katsuki decided that he was going to be the one to get her pregnant first, the other two had no problem with that. After months of trying and no show she was finally pregnant and all four of them were so happy to finally have their first kid.

It’s been 9 months already and their precious baby girl has yet to leave her place within her mamas tummy.

Y/N rubbed her swollen belly as she did her rotations on her exercise ball. Katsuki’s mom was here helping her out with the little things that she needed. Mitsuki loved her from the moment Katsuki introduced them and now that she’s going to have a little grandchild she was even more happy with her future daughter in law.

"Y/N honey. The boys are calling again."Mitsuki said as she walked in from the kitchen to the living room rolling her eyes. “This is the fourth time they’ve called in the last hour.” Mitsuki chuckled.

"They're so worried that you're going to pop before they get back." Y/N grabbed the phone from, Mitsuki’s hand and put it up to her ear.

“Hello?” “Hey, baby. You doing okay?” Y/N rolled her eyes even though he couldn’t see her. “Yes I’ve been okay since the last time you called.” She heard him chuckle. “Okay. You’re a little worked up. What happened? Sick of us calling?” Y/N giggled. “Nope, never. I can’t even miss or worry about you guys because you’re too busy calling all the time instead of focusing on your task that you three were sent to do.” Before Izuku could respond she heard the faint voice of someone talking to him. “Oi? Is that Curls?” Katsuki of course.

Y/N heard what sounded like the phone being snatched away from Izuku. “Oi, Curls! If you ever hand up in my face again we’re gonna have some problems when I get back home, you hear me?” Y/N chuckled. “Yes sir.” She heard the blonde kiss his teeth before handing the phone back to Izuku.

“Sorry, bout that. Anyways you’ve got some scolding to do to Katsuki anyways.” “Don’t you dare tell her about that!” She could tell Izuku rolled his eyes. “He was being careless today and almost lost his leg.” Katsuki grumbled. “ ‘Was not bein’ fuckin’ careless. ‘The hell was I s’posed to know he was gonna turn his leg in to a fuckin’ chain saw?!” Y/N pursed her lips. “Y’know if you two are done bickering we have matters to attend too.”

Shoto said out of nowhere. “That’s right. Well baby, look like we gotta go. We’ll see you next week, hopefully.” Katsuki butted in. “Yeah so tell the brat to avoid her eviction notices till then.” Y/N laughed. “I’m sure she heard you, Kat. I’ll see you boys next week. I love you.” “We love you more baby.” Then the phone clicked and the call was over.

Y/N sighed. She truly did miss them. Sure she enjoyed the company of her soon to be in laws, but she missed her boys. It was quiet and peaceful while they were away and she hated that. The bed was always cold and empty and she also hated that but it still smelled of them and she could at least appreciate that. So did the large shirt that she borrowed from Shoto’s side of the closet.

The boys had already been gone for two weeks and they’d be back home next week but it doesn’t feel like Blossom can wait any longer to be out in the world. Her eyes trailed over towards the belly cast that she had gotten done. The boys had decorated it all pretty and even drew a little family of four on it in Katsuki’s terrible excuse of a drawing. She’d never tell him that though because even if it was bad it’s still cute and still has meaning to it. She can still even feel their careful hands on her stomach.

Izuku’s hands are the most scarred and a little calloused but still firm and calming. Katsuki’s hands being the most calloused and somehow a bit sweaty from time to time. Sho’s hands were the softest but were always cold.

She missed the special treatment and massages they’d give her before they left. They were very caring and spoiling.

It’s been like this since they’ve found out that she was pregnant. They couldn’t be home for her, they had their moms take care of her. Then when they came home for the night, they’d be all over her because in their words, “you look so cute when you’re pregnant.”

She smiled softly at Mitsuki as she smelled the cooking of her favorite food. It’s getting later and later and there was a storm outside brewing. She didn’t want her poor boys caught outside in the rain.

"Y/N, Inko sent some more clothes for Blossom." Mitsuki smiled as she handed them to her. “Awe. We’re going to run out of space in her little closets.” Y/N held the shirt to her stomach. “Do you like it, B?” Y/N suddenly winced at a sharp pain in her stomach. “Okay, I’ll put it away.” But the pain kept coming. Mitsuki helped Y/N up carefully and at that very moment, her water broke.

Mitsuki immediately started to call phones. "Inko, Rei! It's happening! I need you here now! The babies coming!"

Mitsuki was rushing around the house to get the bags ready and extra clothes before helping her soon to be daughter in law towards the car.

Once they arrived after some time Mitsuki rushed in to get a nurse and she came back with a nurse who had a wheelchair ready and the both of them helped Y/N out of the car in to the chair and she was wheeled in and rushed towards the maternity floor. They put her in a room and went to go get things ready for her.

“Where the fuck are they going?!” Y/N whimpered out as one if her hands held her stomach while her other arm was draped across her face. Rei and Inko walked in. "They're going to get everything ready. More doctors and your epidural for your pain, Honey."Inko responded and Y/N hummed in pain.

“Did you call the boys?” Rei asked and Mitsuki nodded her head as she tried to get Y/N comfortable and situated. "Yes but they're not answering. I think they're too busy in what they're doing."

Rei let out a soft okay before looking at the clock on the wall. 12:03 AM it read. A nurse came back in and injected her with the medicine but it didn’t have time to do its job because right after the doctors came in and it was time for her baby girl to come out in to the world.

Everything went smoothly. (beside the three mothers having to stop Y/N from attacking the nurse. Twice. First time because if her giving her the epidural late and second because the bitch almost dropped her baby.) when Blossom was all cleaned up it was about. 2:19 when Y/N got to hold her baby and feed her.

She was so pretty. Her skin was a mix between Y/N and Katsuki and her hair was blonde and straight but Y/N was sure that her curls would come in soon. Last but not least her eyes her round and (e/c) just like her moms as she looked up at her through her blonde eyelashes. The three mothers huddled around Y/N to look at their granddaughter. "Awe. She's so pretty." Inko cooed softly. “I’ve got to get pictures.” Rei gushed and both her and Inko rushed to their purses to get their phone out while Mitsuki stayed by Y/N.

"Do you want me to get her so you can rest?" “Yes please, if you don’t mind.” Mitsuki took Blossom and soon after, Y/N was knocked out.

Izuku was the last person to get out of the bath for that morning. They’d been up since midnight going on a fake lead, practically wasting their time all night. Izuku grabbed what he thought was his phone but noticed that it was Katsuki’s. “Hey, Kachaan? You’ve got 10 missed calls from your mom.” Katsuki raised an eyebrow as he set down his freshly cooked spicy ramen.

He went to his call log and clicked on his mom’s name in face time. "Hello?" His mom’s face showed in the camera. “You called 10 times?” He said unamused. Thinking that it was just her being worried and paranoid again. "Well, I needed to tell you something." Katsuki hummed. “Kay?” The camera flipped around and Katsuki saw blonde hair then the phone fell to the floor as his mom let out an agitated ‘damn it’ before picking it up and a sleeping baby was shown.

“Is that?” "Yep." Inko cut off her son. “That’s Blossom guys!” The boys mouths dropped. Their daughter was so pretty just like her mommy. After that face time call that day the boys had to call off the mission to get home to their girls immediately.

Y/N was released from the hospital two days before they could come home so when they made it back they instantly without a second thought came straight home and they finally got to see their daughter. Blossoms little hair started to curl up a little so she most definitely started to look like Y/N.

Katsuki was the first to hold her and she was so small Katsuki feared that he might break her. Izuku and Shoto walked towards Katsuki, standing on either side of him as they looked down at their daughter. “She most definitely looks like a Blossom.” Shoto spoke softly as the little baby curiously looked at the three men.

Their moms smiled at them. "Congrats boys!" Mitsuki had tears in her eyes as little sniffles came out. "Oh my goodness. I'm finally a grandma! I'm never gonna get over this!" She cried into Inko’s shoulder and Inko patted her back comfortingly. “I wanna hold her next.” Izuku held his arms out and Katsuki carefully handed Blossom to him. Once he was secure in his arms, Katsuki turned towards Y/N.

He smiled softly and he walked over towards her giving her a kiss on her cheek. He watched the others coo over the little blonde haired baby.

“Thank you so much, baby.” Three months later, the world knew about their two girls after Izuku had posted a video of Blossom giggling away at Katsuki and Shoto making silly faces at her while Y/N just watched in the background with a big smile on her face. That video was the most brought up topic in their latest interviews and they didn’t mind at all telling the world about their girls.

this story belongs to @lolaxbunnyy !!

#anime x black!reader #anime #anime x you #black reader #x reader #todoroki x fem!reader #bakugou x black female reader #bakugou x female reader #todoroki x black!reader #izuku x black!reader #izuku x reader #todobakudeku x reader #pregnant reader #poly relationship

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months ago

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Summer Breeze 4

Warnings: age gap (reader is 22, Andrew is mid 40s), dad’s friend, Andy being Andrew, other dark elements. As usual, be mindful of your content consumption.

I also beg of you to leave me some tuppence in the form of a comment and/or reblog. You are cherished!

Enjoy, my loverlies.

“Can you drive?” Andy asks as he gets your dad in the back of his white SUV.

“I got... I got my license,” you hiccup in panic.

“No, can you drive?” He looks at you, “you got your head on?”

“I don’t-- I don’t know, Mr. Barber,” you stammer.

“Get in with him,” he points at your dad as he slumps in the back seat, “keep pressure on his head,” he shoves the balled rag into your hand, “I’ll drive.”

You can’t argue. You can’t think. You do what he says and he snaps the door shut behind you. You bring your dad’s heavy body closer, your arm around him as you press against the gashes across his scalp.

“Dad,” you babble.

“It'll be okay,” Andy says as he turns the engine, backing out sharply, “once we get back to the main roads, it’s a straight shot to the hospital.”

“What happened?” You croak as you cling to your father.

“I told him not to mess around,” Andy peeks in the rear view mirror, “he kept revving, lifting the front, I don’t know, he was screwing around. I told him it was gonna tip.” He shakes his head and sighs, “next thing I know, he’s headed straight for the dock and then...” he sounds like he’s choking, “he was in the water...”

You sit in stunned silence. Your dad is stubborn and reckless. He gets a few beers in him and he doesn’t listen to anything but his own brain. You can’t help but blame him for this. It’s not the first time he’s got himself hurt.

“He was drinking?”

“I...” Andy shrugs and slaps the wheel, “I had one beer. Didn’t even finish it. Too early. But he... I thought maybe two cans. I wasn’t worried but...”

“But he’s sneaky,” you finish, “I know. He drinks fast.”

“Didn’t have breakfast either. I offered him some but...”

You sniffle, “oh god.” You keep your hold on your dad as tears continue to flow.

“Sweetheart, it’s going to be alright,” Andy promises as he speeds up, “I’m gonna take care of you. I’m gonna get your dad there. Just keep that pressure on.”

You nod and gulp, your vision as skewed as your thoughts. Your hand trembles as you push down as much as you can. He’s going to be okay. He’s always okay. He’s your dad. He can’t go like this.

🌅

You sit in the waiting room. Rather, you pace. You haven’t been able to stay still since you got there. Since they rushed your dad off in a gurney and left you there. Your head races with all the worst thoughts. Shit, your mom. You have to call her.

You look at Andy as you reach instinctively to your thigh. You look down. You’re still in only your bikini. He at least has a tee shirt on over his trunk. Shoot.

“You got your phone?” You ask as you lower your voice and approach him. “Gotta call mom.”

“Oh, I think it’s out in the car,” he stands and you take a step back. “I’ll be back.”

“Right,” you bite your thumb, one arm over your chest, holding your other elbow. You sit as he leaves and you peer around, suddenly aware of all the eyes staring at you. You must look ridiculous.

You try to make yourself small as you jitter your legs. What are you going to tell mom? Dad’s hurt? Dad’s dead! Oh god, oh god! He's not going to die, right?

Before you can lose your cool, Andy returns. You look up as he holds out his phone, “here,” he offers a hoodie as well, “found this in the hatch.”

“Oh, thanks,” you stand and accept both.

You zip on the hoodie and squeeze the phone tight. You excuse yourself and go out to the outer vestibule to make your call. The first call goes to voicemail. The second too. You don’t bother a third time. You can’t leave a message about this. It’s too hard to explain. You just want to hear your mother’s voice but as usual, she’s not there.

You sigh and go back to the waiting room. You give Andy his phone and flop into the chair next to him. You fold over your lap and hold your head. The scent of iron tinges your nose and you look at your hands as you stay hunched over. You sit up straight at the sight of your dad’s blood still on your hands.

“Hey,” Andy rubs your shoulder, making you jump, “there’s a restroom over there.” He nods towards the other side of the room, “why don’t you get washed up. I’ll find some water or something.”

You stare at him, barely able to process his words. Finally, you stand and traipses away, sandals slapping on the floor. You go to the restroom and twist on the faucet. You gape at your own reflection. It takes a few minutes to get yourself together.

You lather your hands in soap and shove them under the water, scrubbing until they hurt. You finish and shut the tap off. You lean on the sink and stare at the drain. A shaky breath flutters out and you suck in a chestful before you push away.

You go back out to the waiting room. Andy startles you as he waits just outside. He has a bottle of water in his hand and a couple of packets. He offers you the bottle and a packet.

“Got you pretzels,” he says, “didn’t have much else.”

“Uh, thanks,” you accept them, hugging them to your chest numbly.

“Alright, sweetheart, let’s get you sitting,” he puts his hand against your back and guides you back towards the plastic chairs. “I’m sure they’ll be out soon. They’re taking good care of dad.”

You blink as you sit with him and grip your handful. You have a bad feeling it’s not going to be okay. How can he be sure? He can’t know. He doesn’t really know. He’s just saying what you’re supposed to say.

Still, it’s better than being alone. If it was just you... you hate to think what that would be like.

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #defending jacob #summer breeze #series #drabble

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 7 months ago

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Wibta if I told my mom she loves a cat more than her own children.

I do feel like an asshole for this. I’m 17f and I have a younger sister 15F. My parents are married and for the most part good. When have a 12 year old cat that my mom just adores.

This part is all speculation, but when I very young like I was 5 or something my mom had an event that changed a lot. She stayed with her parents and would visits us. My grandparents would help out and no one really ever explained what happened to her but she lived there for like a year, she did move back in with us. My dad got her a cat to cope while she was away. The speculation is she had really bad post partum depression and had a break down. The reason I believe this/and this is my own theory, was when I was struggling mentally, my mom encouraged me to go to a therapist and they asked family history and she said she had struggled with depression/episodes and had tried medication but never stayed on. She just said when she was younger she had a hard time regulating emotions, and she wants me to worry about me and my own emotions. The post patrum comes from the fact that I asked my dad why did you two have kids and he admitted he wanted kids and my mom was more on the fence. I also find it weird she gets really nervous around Mother’s Day and will often try to not celebrate. (She always says she could be a better mom)

My mom is a good mom don’t get me wrong. She’s always encouraged my sister and I to try and do our hobbies. She’ll drive us where we gotta go. I know she works overtime when she wants to make sure we can do stuff for the family. It’s just sometimes, she seems more like a distant mom. She’ll listen to us, do anything asked, but idk how to put it into words.

But she really loves this cat. And I do love our cat too, but this cat and my mom are bonded. The second my mom comes home and the cat greets her and my mom picks her up and kisses her. She calls the cat her pretty princess and a hundred other nicknames. She calls me my dad and sister honey, bunny, and sunny. I know the cat actually makes my mom happy. Her eyes light up when she sees the cat. I know she looks forward to coming home to the cat. When we go on vacations she’ll miss the cat, or if she goes on a work trip she’ll always ask for pictures of the cat or ask to see the cat on FaceTime. She throws a small birthday party for the cat every year and makes a cake. For our birthdays she’ll ask what we want and sometimes she resorts to store bought desserts.

So this is where it gets bad. Our cat is now sick and probably has a year left to live. The vet told my mom she’s a good cat owner and has always done right for her, but with her age, treatment isn’t really the route because it’s not gonna prevent death, so just focus on making the cat happy and comfortable (this vet appointment was her 6 month check up.) My mom hasn’t been doing well mentally. She’s always struggled with mental health. She just seems to have a shakey mind at times if that makes sense. She very much before would hide her struggles, but we knew she’d have them. Before she would like stand still just gripping the counter with one hand. Now my mom is definetly depressed. She will come home be greeted by the cat, and go to her room and cry with the cat. She’s been just not happy.

My sister and I kinda decided to see if telling her we got good grades would cheer her up, and she’ll say good job and will sometimes offer to cook something or get something for us, but her eyes are just like very tired. (There is also an app she can use to check out grades but she never once used it and will just take our word face value) We’ve talked to my dad about this and he basically said that our mom has always loved animals (she use to work with her grandpa at a pet store he owned, but apparently her grandpa wasn’t a good person to most people in the family except her, so that was hard on her). I asked my dad what he thinks and says it’s normal for someone to be sad about this and that he’s gonna work hard or make sure we get all our needs handled. Which is nice, but I kinda wish it was my mom. I don’t feel dire need of anything, I’m just annoyed/jealous a cat can destroy my mom mentally.

My mom has gone over load for the cat. She cooks for her, makes her dinner buys the best food and mixes then. She often cries while cooking, and asks the cat if she likes the food.The cat doesn’t even know what’s happening.

I was looking at prom dresses online and asked my mom to look with me and she was just out of it. She would just say she’d like one or she’s not a fan but don’t let that discourage me. She’s just kinda lifeless. I try talking to her about it and she’ll aplogize and says she’ll get better. (It’s been like a week)

It boiled over when my mom’s sisters came over. (She’s the youngest. One sister has kids and one doesn’t) My mom tried to be happy and perky but ended up crying about the cat. Her sisters kinda said that she’s gotta be strong for her family and my mom just cried saying everything’s gonna be so much harder without the cat. I wasn’t in the room, they were in the basement, and there’s a vent where you can hear everything down there. My sister and I do easedrop to see what they say (her sisters are loud but we can never hear what my mom is saying without the vent. Normally we do it because my mom is a more different interesting person and again we don’t know our mom well. Away from us she kinda puts down the facade and actually talks). I was just angry. Her life isn’t hard. We’re middle class, if she wants to go to therepy she can afford it. We all deal with grief and loss. Yes I’m gonna be sad when our cat passes, but she is an older cat. I don’t imagine my life becoming “harder” other than my mom being depressed, but she is an adult who will heal from this.

After her sisters left and she was doing her night routine, I asked her if she loves the cat more than my sister and I. She said that’s not true and if she could do something more for my sister and I please name it. I told her that that’s the problem is that she does stuff for the cat without thinking, but for us it’s all asking us and she’s the adult she should know. She’s said she’s not a mind reader and she’s gonna rely on the information I give her to help me out where she can. I went to my room because ovbiosuly that conversation wasn’t going anywhere. I feel like my mom understands a cat more than her own daughter.

My dad came in a little while after and we talked. He assured me my mom loves me and this cat has been like an emotional support animal through the years. He mentioned my one friend who has an emotional support dog and compared them and told me that the cat has helped my mom emotionally with emotional regulation and just helps her steady herself. I asked if we were enough, or if my mom regrets having a family and she would just be happier if she just left us for the cat and lived by herself. My dad told me she loves all of us, but depression can be hard to navigate. I asked him about how he wanted us more than our mom and he just said that he was more excited, but my mom wouldn’t have had us unless she wanted us (which I don’t think is totally true.)

I went into my parents room and my mom was there with the cat. Again going to the cat for comfort. I told her I was sorry for saying she loved the cat more than us and she apologized for how her treatment towards the cat can seem that way and if I ever need anything please ask. It made me mad because she again is relying on me to know what’s wrong/ or ask, instead of her just idk taking initiative. I didn’t say that.

I get people can be mentally ill, but she’s also my mom. I do feel bad about telling my mom she loves a cat more than me, but I also don’t feel too reassured.

#aita #am i the asshole

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doctorbitchcrxft · 7 months ago

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Scarecrow | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore

Word Count: 5402

A/N: SURPRISE!!!! I've decided to start updating twice a week!!! I would not be cranking these out like I am if it weren't for y'all's support. Thank you so so much for everything, my lovebugs. See y'all on Saturday!!! New update schedule:

Wednesdays and Saturdays @ 3 PM CDT

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

You awoke to the sound of your phone ringing, and were shocked by the voice on the other end of the call. “John?!”

“Hi, (Y/N),” he answered. “I know you’re with the boys. I need you to do something for me.”

“John, what the fuck? How did you get my number?” you questioned. “Why didn’t you call Sam or Dean?!”

He sighed. “Because I knew they wouldn’t just let me go. Listen, I need you to take down these names for me.”

You wrapped a jacket around yourself and headed to the boys’ room next door. You banged on it loudly, still talking to John. “Look, sir, I’m sorry, but I have to let them know you called me.”

Sam opened the door.

“(Y/N), no! It’s too dangerous!” John responded, his voice gravelly.

“Too late,” you told him.

Sam had apparently heard his dad’s voice and ripped the phone out of your hands. “Dad? Are you hurt? We’ve been looking for you everywhere. We didn’t know where you were, if you were okay.”

Dean began to wake up with all of the commotion.

“We’re fine. Dad, where are you?” Sam continued.

Dean shot up when Sam said “dad.”

Sam scoffed at something his father said. “What? Why not?”

“Is that Dad?” Dean asked.

“You’re after it, aren’t you? The thing that killed Mom,” Sam said softly. “A demon? You know for sure?”

“A demon? What’s he saying?” Dean’s voice became almost frantic.

Tears suddenly welled in Sam’s eyes. “You know where it is?... Let us help… Why not?”

Dean extended his hand to his brother. “Give me the phone.”

“Names? What names, Dad— talk to me, tell me what’s going on,” Sam pleaded. “No. Alright? No way.”

Dean grabbed the phone out of Sam’s hands. “Dad, it’s me. Where are you? Why’d you call (Y/N) instead of one of us?... Yes, sir… Uh, yeah, I got a pen. What are their names?” He began writing on the notepad next to his bed.

Sam shook his head, tears still in his eyes.

Dean hung up the phone and handed it back to you. “How’d he get your number, (Y/N)?”

“I have no idea; I changed it since I met you guys,” you told him. “That was after your dad disappeared.”

“Why would he call her and not us?” Sam asked his brother.

“He said he knew you wouldn’t just let him go,” you explained. “Said it was too dangerous for me to let you know I spoke to him.”

“Well, thank you for not listening,” Sam told you.

You gave him a lopsided, sad smile.

***

Later that day, Sam was driving you toward what you thought was your next hunt. Couples had been going missing through the same part of Indiana every year on the second week of April; which just so happened to be this week.

“So, Dad is sending us to Indiana to go hunting for something before another couple vanishes?” Sam asked.

“Yahtzee. Can you imagine putting together a pattern like this? All the different obits Dad had to go through? The man’s a master.” You could tell Dean really respected his father. You had that same respect for your dad when he was alive; you understood completely.

Sam seemed annoyed, though, and pulled over to the side of the road. He turned off the car.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“We’re not going to Indiana,” he responded.

Your eyebrows shot up. “We’re not?”

“No. We’re going to California. Dad called from a payphone. Sacramento area code,” Sam explained.

Dean shook his head. “Sam—”

“Dean, if this demon killed Mom and Jess, and Dad’s closing in, we’ve gotta be there. We’ve gotta help.”

“Dad doesn’t want our help,” Dean protested.

Sam’s voice rose more. “I don’t care!”

“He’s given us an order!”

Sam’s voice was suddenly quieted. “I don’t care. We don’t always have to do what he says.”

“Sam, Dad is asking us to work jobs, to save lives, it’s important,” the older brother argued, incredulous that this was even a conversation.

“Alright, I understand, believe me, I understand. But I’m talking one week here, man, to get answers. To get revenge.”

“Alright, look, I know how you feel—”

“Do you?”

You were shocked by Sam’s tone.

“How old were you when Mom died? Four? Jess died six months ago. How the hell would you know how I feel?”

“Sam!” you scolded.

“Dad said it wasn’t safe,” Dean continued. “For any of us. I mean, he obviously knows something that we don’t, so if he says to stay away, we stay away.”

Sam scoffed humorlessly. “I don’t understand the blind faith you have in the man. I mean, it’s like you don’t even question him.”

“Yeah, it’s called being a good son!”

“Both of you, stop it!” you ordered.

Sam angrily got out of the car. You looked to Dean who couldn’t meet your eyes before the two of you got out as well.

“You’re a selfish bastard, you know that?” Dean spat. “You just do whatever you want. Don’t care what anybody thinks.”

Sam bit back, “That’s what you really think?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Well, then this selfish bastard is going to California.” He shouldered his backpack and started walking in the opposite direction.

“C’mon, Sam, get back in the car,” you called to him.

“No, (Y/N), stay out of this,” Sam responded.

“It’s the middle of the night!” you protested.

“Hey, I’m taking off, I will leave your ass, you hear me?” Dean roared.

Sam stopped walking and turned around. “That’s what I want you to do,” he replied coldly.

You watched with bated breath as the two brothers sized each other up.

“Goodbye, Sam.” Dean slammed the trunk closed. He went to get in the car and drive away, but you stopped him.

“Just wait a second, please?”

He nodded.

You sprinted to Sam, giving him a tight hug. He returned it with his free arm. “Bye, Sam. Be safe, please,” you told him.

“What, you’re really gonna stay with him?” he scoffed.

“I don’t have much of a choice—”

“You do, though. You said you were gonna help us find our dad. I’m going to find our dad.”

You backed away from him. “I believe we will find your dad. I think he’s too smart to stay in Sacramento after calling us.”

Sam shook his head. “This is about more than that, isn’t it? You just wanna stay with Dean.”

“No, Sam, that’s not the point—”

“Then come with me.”

Your voice softened considerably. “No.”

The brunet scoffed again. “Goodbye, (Y/N).”

He walked away from you. You hurried back to the car and slammed the door to the passenger’s seat shut. You slumped against the door, and you nor Dean talked for the remainder of the drive to Burkittsville, Indiana.

***

When you arrived, you saw Dean take out his phone and scroll to Sam’s contact. You silently prayed he would click it, but he never did. Alternatively, the two of you got out of the car and made your way over to Scotty’s Café.

Burkittsville was a sleepy little town full of mom and pop shops and not a chain restaurant in sight. The people seemed just as quaint and perfect as their town appeared, including the man on the porch of the café.

Dean gestured to the sign above the man’s head. “Let me guess. Scotty.”

Scotty looked up at his sign and nodded curtly. “Yep.”

“Hi, my name’s John Bonham,” Dean smiled, “And this is—”

Scotty cut him off before he could introduce you. “Isn’t that the drummer for Led Zeppelin?”

The younger man was taken aback. “Wow. Good. Classic rock fan.”

Scotty’s face was unchanging. “What can I do for you, John?”

Dean took out the Missing Person posters of Holly and Vince Parker, the couple that had disappeared last year.

You stuck the fliers out to Scotty. “We were just wondering if you’d seen these people by chance? They’re friends of ours, and we just really wanna find ‘em. The cops haven’t done much, and we figured we’d take the investigation into our own hands. We already asked around Scottsberg and Salem—”

Scotty cut you off and looked to Dean. “Does she always talk this much?”

You were offended. “Sorry, I just, I really wanna find my friends.”

Scotty sat back in his chair and huffed. “Haven’t seen ‘em. We don’t get many strangers around here.”

Dean nodded. “Scotty, you’ve got a smile that lights up a room, anybody ever tell you that?”

Scotty eyed him strangely.

“Never mind. See you around.”

The two of you walked away from the man and the café.

“That was awkward, you mumbled. “The fuck was his problem?”

“He was right about one thing, sweetheart, you do talk a lot,” Dean gibed in response.

You shoved his shoulder. “Fuck off.”

Your next stop was the Jorgeson General Store; another one of those mom-and-pop shops. You spoke to the woman behind the counter and her husband about the Parkers’ disappearance.

“You sure they didn’t stop for gas or something?” Dean questioned.

The older man before you shook his head. “Nope, don’t remember ‘em. You said they were friends of yours?”

Dean nodded.

A young girl bounded down the stairs carrying some boxes. “Did the guy have a tattoo?”

You looked at her surprised. “Yeah, he did.”

The blonde put the boxes on the counter and looked down at the missing posters you were holding. “You remember?” she asked the older couple. “They were just married.”

The old man seemed to remember suddenly, “You’re right. They did stop for gas. Weren’t here more than ten minutes.”

“You remember anything else?” Dean asked, You could tell he was suspicious of these people; as we you.

“I told ‘em how to get back to the Interstate. They left town.”

“Could you point us in that same direction?”

***

“I’m telling you, those people weird me out,” you told Dean as you drove down the old man’s directed route.

“Yeah, no kidding,” he responded. “WASPs.”

“Oh, for sure,” you giggled.

You were cut off by a sound coming from the backseat.

“The fuck?” Dean mumbled at the sound. “(Y/N), care to investigate?”

You nodded, leaning over the backseat and rummaging through Dean’s duffel bag. You pulled out the EMF meter, which buzzed frantically. “Pull over,” you instructed him.

***

The two of you walked through a pretty apple orchard. It was quite large, as were the trees. You had no doubt it stretched for hundreds of acres. You and Dean crunched leaves under your boots and followed the strengthening beep of the EMF meter to a frightening scarecrow. It wore dark clothing; its eyes were hollow and its mouth was sewn shut. The hair it seemed to have was straggly and wild under the brim of its hat.

“Dude, you fugly,” Dean jested.

You giggled, but something caught your eye. The scarecrow held a sickle, and your eyes trailed from it to a design on its arm. “Dean, look.”

He seemed to notice the same thing you did and grabbed a ladder. You held the bottom steady while he climbed up to the scarecrow’s eye level. He adjusted its sleeve to fully reveal the design on its arm. You pulled out Vince’s flier and handed it to Dean. He compared the two, but you already knew the designs would match exactly.

“Nice tat,” Dean told the scarecrow.

“Alright, get out of its face before you piss it off,” you told your friend.

He chuckled. “Yeah, right.” He climbed back down the ladder and you headed back to Burkittsville to investigate further. Dean drove you to the gas station next to a car repair shop where you noticed the young girl from the general store was working.

“You’re back,” the blonde smiled.

Dean replied, “Never left.”

“Still looking for your friends?” she asked.

You nodded.

Dean noticed the nameplate necklace the girl was wearing. “ You mind fillin’ her up there, Emily?”

She grabbed the pump and obliged.

“So, you grew up here?” Dean asked.

“I came here when I was thirteen. I lost my parents. Car accident. My aunt and uncle took me in,” she explained.

“They’re nice people.”

“Everybody’s nice here.”

“So, what, it’s the, uh, perfect little town?”

She nodded and sighed. “Well, you know, it’s the boonies. But I love it. I mean, the towns around us, people are losing their homes, their farms. But here, it’s almost like we’re blessed.”

You nodded. “Hey, you been out to the orchard? You seen that scarecrow?”

Emily shivered. “Yeah, it creeps me out.”

Dean laughed. “Whose is it?”

The girl shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just always been there.”

You nodded toward the red van parked by the garage with its hood up. “That your aunt and uncle’s?”

Emily shook her head. “Customer. Had some car troubles.”

“It’s not a couple, is it? A guy and a girl?” A look of concern crossed Dean’s face, and Emily nodded.

And with that, you thanked Emily, paid her, and headed off to find the town’s next victims: that poor couple. You found them in Scotty’s Café.

“We’re famous for our apples,” Scotty said as you walked in. “So, you gotta try this pie.”

“Oh, no. It— please,” the girl shook her head. The couple’s table was already full of plates.

“It’s on the house.” Scotty’s disposition was much different than the one he’d presented to you and Dean previously.

“Oh, hey, Scotty,” Dean grinned. “Can I get a coffee, black? Oh, and some of that pie, too, while you’re at it.”

You and Dean sat at a table next to the couple. “Mind your manners, please,” you mumbled to him.

“I got it,” he answered. “How ya doin’?” He leaned over to the couple, who waved back and smiled. “Just passing through?”

“Road trip,” the girl replied awkwardly.

“Hm. Yeah, us, too,” Dean said.

Scotty came back over to refill the couple’s drinks. “ I’m sure these people want to eat in peace.”

“He’s just making conversation,” you defended.

Scotty glared at you and walked away.

Dean was clearly reveling in Scotty’s agitation. “Oh, and that coffee, too, man. Thanks.”

“So, what brings you to town?” you asked the couple.

“We just stopped for gas,” the girl explained. “And, uh, the guy at the gas station saved our lives.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah, one of our brake lines was leaking. We had no idea. He was fixing it for us,” the man replied.

Dean seemed concerned. “Nice people.”

You didn’t know the first thing about cars, but from the look on Dean’s face, you could tell he knew something was fishy. “So, how long till you’re up and runnin’?”

“Sundown,” the man answered curtly, taking a bite of his food.

“Really.” Dean pondered for a minute. ��To fix a brake line?”

The man nodded.

“I mean, you know, I know a thing or two about cars. I could probably have you up and running in about an hour. I wouldn’t charge you anything,” Dean said, chuckling awkwardly.

“You know, thanks a lot, but I think we’d rather have a mechanic do it.” He turned back to the table.

Dean paused. “You know, it’s just that these roads. They’re not real safe at night.”

The couple exchanged a look.

“I know it sounds strange, but, uh, you might be in danger,” Dean tried.

“Look, we’re trying to eat. Okay?” the man responded, annoyed.

Dean seemed disappointed. He turned to you. “Sam could just give him that puppy dog look and they’d just buy right into it,” he lamented.

Your heart was saddened; both because you missed Sam and felt for Dean. The bell above the door jingled, and Scotty came out from the back.

“Thanks for coming, Sheriff,” Scotty told the man who had just entered.

You were beginning to get incredibly agitated with Scotty.

“I’d like a word, please,” the sheriff told you and Dean.

“Come on. I’m having a bad day already,” Dean grumbled.

“You know what would make it worse?”

And with that, the sheriff escorted you to the outside of town; making sure you kept driving outside of Burkittsville.

You and Dean were stubborn, though, and returned to the town later that night. You headed to the orchard where you knew the couple was about to become scarecrow food.

You always had your pistol on you, of course, but Dean had you carry a shotgun loaded with rock salt, too. He grabbed one for himself, and the two of you trekked into the orchard, quickly trying to find the couple. You had seen their car broken down on the side of the road and knew they couldn’t be far.

“Who’s there?” you heard the man from the diner call.

You and Dean broke off in the direction of the voice. You jumped in front of the couple just before the scarecrow could reach them.

“Get back to your car.” Dean ordered, aiming his shotgun at the scarecrow. “Go! Go! (Y/N), follow ‘em!”

The couple took off running and you stayed close behind, occasionally looking over your shoulder to make sure it was far enough away. You watched as Dean shot the scarecrow, which stumbled, but kept walking.

You took out your pistol and aimed at the thing. “Dean, look out!” You took a shot at it, too, but it still persisted.

“What the hell kind of thing is immune to rock salt and real bullets?!” you yelled to Dean.

“Go! Go!” He responded, pushing you and the couple forward and out of the orchard. When you turned around for the last time as you had reached their car, the scarecrow disappeared. Even still, you and Dean kept your guns pointed at the orchard’s entrance.

“What— what the hell was that?” the man from the diner panted.

“Don’t ask!” you told them.

While you stood guard, Dean fixed up the car for the couple and escorted them out of town. The next morning, you and Dean decided to find a local history professor from the next town over to get some information.

“We should call Sam,” you told him.

“I know,” he mumbled.

“Oh-kay, then what are you waiting for?” you asked.

He said nothing in response, but pulled out his phone and dialed Sam’s number. You weren’t surprised when Dean didn’t address their fight at all.

“Yeah, I’m tellin’ ya,” Dean told Sam on the other line. “Burkittsville, Indiana. Fun Town… No. We can’t cope without you, you know… No, it’s more than a spirit. It’s a god. A Pagan god, anyway… The annual cycle of its killings? And the fact that the victims are always a man and a woman. Like some kind of fertility right. And you should see the locals. The way they treated this couple. Fattenin’ ‘em up like a Christmas turkey… Yeah, (Y/N)’s thinking a ritual sacrifice to appease some pagan god... Yeah, yeah. She’s fine. She’s here.”

You smiled at what you knew was Dean responding to Sam asking about you.

“And the scarecrow takes its sacrifice. And for another year, the crops won’t wilt, and disease won’t spread… No, not yet… I know. We’re actually on our way to a local community college. I’ve got an appointment with a professor. You know, since I don’t have my trusty sidekick geek boy to do all the research.” Dean’s tone shifted. “I’m not hinting anything! Actually, uh—I want you to know….I mean, don’t think… Sam. You were right. You gotta do your own thing. You gotta live your own life.”

You eyed Dean curiously as he continued.

“You’ve always known what you want. And you go after it. You stand up to Dad. And you always have. Hell, I wish I—anyway… I admire that about you. I’m proud of you, Sammy… Say you’ll take care of yourself… Call me when you find Dad.”

You took the phone from Dean. “Hi, Sam. I miss you,” you told him.

“Hey, (Y/N/N), I miss you, too. I’m sorry about what I said,” Sam responded.

“Yeah, me too. Be safe, kiddo.”

Sam laughed at your nickname for him. “I will.”

***

You and Dean talked with a sweet, old professor about the pagan god you could potentially be dealing with; feigning that it was for a research paper. He flipped through a large book on the different Norse pagan gods and goddesses, until a scarecrow in one of the drawings caught Dean’s attention.

“Wait, wait, wait. What’s that one?” Dean asked.

“Oh, that’s not a woods god, per se,” the professor answer.

“The V-Vanir?” Dean read off hesitantly.

The professor nodded.

You read the page aloud. “ ‘The Vanir were Norse gods of protection and prosperity, keeping the local settlements safe from harm. Some villages built effigies of the Vanir in their fields. Other villages practiced human sacrifice. One male, and one female.’ “ You pointed to the picture. “Kind of looks like a scarecrow, huh?”

The professor looked at you strangely. “I suppose.”

“This particular Vanir that’s energy sprung from the sacred tree?” Dean questioned.

The professor seemed confused, but answered you none the less.“Well, Pagans believed all sorts of things were infused with magic.”

“So what would happen if the sacred tree was torched? You think it’d kill the god?”

The old man laughed. “Son, these are just legends we’re discussing.”

“Yeah, yeah of course. He knows that,” you said. “Thank you for your time.” You shook the man’s hand.

“Glad I could help,” he responded.

Dean was the first to hit the door, only to be knocked in the head with a rifle when he opened it.

“Hey!” you yelled, drawing your gun. The sheriff pointed his back at you.

“Carrying a gun on a college campus,” the sheriff tsked. “That’s not a good look for you. Why don’t you put that down and come with me.”

You hesitated, but knew he was right. You put it back in your jacket and raised your hands.

The sheriff aimed his gun at you while two other men he’d brought with him dragged Dean’s passed-out body back to Burkittsville.

The sheriff’s deputies threw Dean’s body down into a cellar beneath one of the houses near the orchard and shoved you down with him.

“You motherfucker,” you told the man. “So what’s the plan? Huh? Keep us here ‘til nightfall, then, what, let us loose in the orchard? You know that thing won’t be able to catch us.”

The sheriff chuckled at you. “Don’t you worry. We’ll take care of you.” And with that, he shut the cellar doors above your head; blocking the majority of the light out. Your eyes slowly adjusted to the bits of sunlight still peeking through the cracks in the boards. You shoved the cellar doors with all your might, groaning as you did. You tried to get it open for hours with the few objects down in the cellar.

“C’mon!” you cried, frustrated. Nothing you tried worked.

Dean’s groan in pain from behind you caught your attention. You rushed back down the stairs and over to him.

You sat down on the floor beside him, gingerly brushing your hand over the wound on his head. “You okay?”

He propped himself up on one elbow and touched the spot on his forehead with his other hand. “Super.”

“Just try to relax,” you told him, “I wanna make sure you don’t have a concussion.”

“What are you, Nurse Ratched?” he grunted, trying to push away from you. “I’m fine, (Y/N), seriously.”

You huffed. “Will you just let me help you? Please?”

Hesitantly, he obliged. You shuffled closer and positioned your knees under his head. He leaned back into you, and you could have sworn some of the tension left his body when he came in contact with you.

You brushed his short, spiky hair back with one hand and held a finger over his face with the other. “Follow my finger, please. Without moving your head.”

He did. His eyes tracked your motion well.

“Okay, now, where are we?” you asked, still stroking his hair.

He scoffed. “What does that have to do with me having a concussion?”

“Just answer the question, asshole.”

He scoffed again, but obeyed. “Uh… some kind of cellar. I’m assuming in Burkittsville.”

“Okay, good,” you said. “Why are we here?”

“That bastard knocked me out at the community college. Fuckin’ professor must’ve called him or something,” Dean grumbled.

“Okay, I think you’re fine,” you told him.

He sat up from your lap, and you missed the feeling of him against you. “Where’d you learn that stuff from?” he asked.

You laughed nervously. “I, uh… this is gonna sound stupid, but I was planning on going to school for nursing the year my parents died.”

“Really?” he asked.

“Yeah. They, um. They died without ever knowing I was gonna go to school that fall.” You looked down at your lap.

“So why didn’t you just leave this all behind and go to school? You could’ve been normal, (Y/N).”

“Honestly?” you replied. “Screw normal. I knew that even if I left hunting, I’d never truly feel safe ever again. Besides, the white picket fence isn’t really my style.” You gave him a lopsided smile which he returned.

“What would you have done? If you weren’t a hunter, I mean,” you asked.

He sighed. “I don’t know. I haven’t given it much thought.” He paused and looked off. He thought for a minute before turning back to you. “I think I would’ve been a mechanic. Maybe a marine, like my dad. When I was a kid, though, I wanted to be a fireman.”

You smiled. “I can totally see that for you.”

The warmth that had settled between you was dispersed by the cellar doors opening. You and Dean scrambled to your feet.

“It’s time,” the woman from the general store said.

You shot Dean a nervous look. You could tell he was doing his best to be brave.

The sheriff really liked using the butt of his rifle to hit things. He’d been using it to urge you and Dean forward about the last half mile into the orchard.

“Do you feel powerful with that thing? Manly?” you asked the sheriff. “You can probably do more with it than you can with your dick— Ow!” You were cut off by a sharp whack to the back of your head.

The sheriff sat Dean down and tied his wrists to a tree.

“How many people have you killed, Sheriff? How much blood is on your hands?” Dean spat.

“We don’t kill them,” was all the sheriff responded with.

“No, you just clean up after,” you broke in as the couple from the general store tied you to a tree next to him. “I mean, how many cars have you hidden, clothes have you buried?”

The sheriff shot you a glare before walking away from you and Dean.

“Try to understand,” the woman told you, somehow still smiling. “It’s our responsibility. And there’s just no other choice. The town needs to be safe. The good of the many outweighs the good of the one.” She turned away from you, and led the other three men away.

“I hope your apple pie is freakin’ worth it!” Dean called after them.

“So, what’s the plan?” you asked.

“I’m workin’ on it,” Dean responded.

You leaned your head back against the tree stump. “I can’t believe I’m gonna die like this.”

“(Y/N), do not talk like that. You are gonna be fine. We’re both gonna make it,” Dean responded.

“No, dude, be serious. Neither of us have a plan. We’re toast.”

“I told you, I’m working on it,” he assured you.

***

Hours passed. You tossed ideas back and forth about how to escape, but nothing was working. You couldn’t get through the zip ties around your wrists without scissors or a knife; which neither of you had on you. The sheriff had frisked both of you of all your weapons. Before you knew it, night had fallen.

“Can you see?” Dean asked. “Is he moving yet?”

You craned your neck, trying to see around the tree stump. “I can’t see.”

Leaves rustled. You and Dean began frantically pulling at your bindings.

“You hear that?” you squeaked.

“Yeah, I do!” Dean strained against his binds.

And then, Sam emerged from the trees behind you.

“Sam!” you grinned.

“(Y/N)?” he responded, stooping down to you. He immediately set to work untying you.

“Oh! Oh, I take everything back I said.” Dean sounded relieved and overjoyed. “I’m so happy to see you.”

Sam moved over to Dean next.

You rubbed at your wrists and rolled your neck around as you stood. “How’d you get here?”

“I, uh— I stole a car,” he answered sheepishly.

Dean laughed. “That’s my boy! And keep an eye on that scarecrow. He could come alive any minute.”

“What scarecrow?” Sam questioned.

You peeked around your tree to see the scarecrow was missing from his post. You and the brothers exchanged nervous looks, and broke off running in the other direction.

“There’s some kind of sacred tree we have to find,” you explained to Sam as you jogged along.

“It’s the source of its power,” Dean added.

“So let’s find it and burn it,” Sam replied simply.

“Nah, in the morning. Let’s just shag ass before Leather Face catches up,” Dean said.

The three of you reached the clearing, only to find yourselves surrounded by flashlights and the townspeople.

“This way!” You tried to lead the boys in another direction, but there were more people flanking you from the back. The three of you put yourselves back to back, facing the numerous guns and flashlights that clouded your vision.

“Please. Let us go,” you begged.

The old man from the general store spoke to you. “It’ll be over quickly, I promise.”

“C’mon, man, please!”

The man shook his head. “You have to let him take you. You have to—”

All of a sudden, the scarecrow’s sickle poked out through the man’s stomach. The woman next to him screamed as the scarecrow began dragging the two of them away. The rest of the townspeople began to flee the scene at what they had just witnessed.

“Come on, let’s go!” Dean ordered, and the three of you broke off running again.

You heard a noise and turned, but the scarecrow and the elderly couple were gone.

“Alright, let’s light this sucker up and get the hell outta dodge,” Dean remarked, picking up a large stick from the ground. The three of you walked a ways before finding a tree marked with Vince’s tattoo design.

“There!” you pointed at it and took the stick from Dean. Sam poured lighter fluid all over it and you lit the end of Dean’s stick with his zippo lighter.

Dean threw the stick at the tree, and the three of you watched it go up in flames. “So long, fugly scarecrow.”

You and the boys walked back to the college where the Impala was left. It took hours, and you were exhausted, but the sight of that car had you grinning from ear to ear.

“And the rest of the townspeople, they’ll just get away with it?” Sam asked, seeming unsatisfied.

“Well, what’ll happen to the town will have to be punishment enough.” Dean turned to his brother once you had reached the car. “So, can I drop you off somewhere?”

Sam shook his head. “No, you guys are stuck with me.”

You smiled. “What made you change your mind?”

“I didn’t. I still wanna find Dad. And you two are still pains in the ass.”

You giggled.

“But, Jess and Mom— they’re both gone. Dad is god knows where. You, me, and (Y/N). We’re all that’s left. So, if we’re gonna see this through, we’re gonna do it together.”

You could sense a witty remark coming from Dean any second.

“Hold me, Sam. That was beautiful.”

‘There it is.’ You laughed again.

Sam smacked his brother’s shoulder. “You two should be kissing my ass. You were dead meat.”

“Yeah, right. I had a plan, I’d have gotten out,” Dean responded.

“Oh, sure you did,” you chimed in. “They were just all crap.”

Dean shoved you playfully toward the door of the backseat. You got in and settled down, allowing yourself to be sucked into slumber.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee @chervbs @thepocketverse @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @stephshaww @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @here-for-the-extravaganza @seninjakitey @berarenado

Quite a few tags were broken :(( so sorry!!

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #supernatural series rewrite #spn series rewrite

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lexisecretaccx · 5 months ago

Text

A+ Student Pt.5

Masterlist!

(Fem reader, suggestive, kissing, smut, female!receiving, etc. Not proofread!)

Summary: Y/n is a great student in her college, always getting good grades. Her college professor Matt, thinks she can get even higher ones with some “extra credit.” That is until she meets her new gym teacher..

“She was talking about professor Sturniolo right?” Lizzy asks me hesitantly, I shrug. “Yeah, I’m not bothered though.” I lie unbelievably. “Pfft,” she laughs slightly, looking at me with a raised eyebrow. “You’re not bothered? You’re literally gripping your skirt so tightly.” I look down as the fabric is clenched in my fists. I let go and laugh slightly, “I guess I do care a little bit.” I sigh.

Chris’ POV

I type up on my laptop plans for the next lesson with y/n’s class, gotta make it easier because I don’t want y/n to struggle. “Mr Sturniolo?” I look up, a woman in a fitted suit jacket with a pencil skirt is staring down at me with her arms crossed. “Uh yeah?” I reply in a confused tone. “I’m gonna need you to come with me please.” She states.

“Okay.. where are we going?” I ask slowly. “The Principal’s office, an anonymous note has told us something we need to talk to you about.” She keeps her eyes forward as she walks quickly ahead. Oh fuck.. this isn’t about what happened at break? Nobody else was in there nobody could’ve heard us, or seen us..

“Everything alright Mr Sturniolo?” She doesn’t look back. “Oh, yeah.. call me Chris if you want.” I try to soften the tone in the air. “No.. I keep it professional.” We arrive at the Principals door and she opens it.

“Hello Christopher.” The principal smiles softly before dropping it. “Take a seat.. thank you Andrea.” The lady leaves the room. “Why am I in here?” I ask, trying to play dumb. “Do you value your job Mr Sturniolo?” He leans on the desk and peers at me from above his glasses. “Yeah of course, I love my job.” I smile.

“Do you respect the workplace and its rules and guidelines?” He asks again staring into my eyes. “Yes I do.” I nod, he grabs something from his drawer and places it in front of me. A mirror. “You seem to have a little.. a lot of things on your neck, do you not?” I look in the mirror at my neck, which is plastered in hickies.

My face drops, “Oh uh.. I had my girlfriend over last night I didn’t know-” I start to explain.. lying obviously. “It’s okay Mr Sturniolo, I don’t need personal details but make sure to cover it up, this is a first warning so you aren’t in trouble.” He smiles softly.

I sigh softly, “I’m sorry.” I scratch the back of my head, “it’s alright, us men like our women but sometimes we have to hide it.” He chuckles and I awkwardly chuckle back. I get up to leave and the principal gives me a little wave. I quickly rush back to the gym and throw on my jacket, which almost covers all of the marks.

It’ll have to do.

Y/n’s POV

I pack up my stuff and leave the sociology classroom, “I fell asleep.” Lizzy smiles as we walk to the exit. “Really? I couldn’t tell.” I sarcastically joke, she let out a few snores causing people around her to laugh. “Did I snore loudly?” She asks nervously, “meh, it was like semi loud.” I laugh and she groans in embarrassment.

“Right I gotta go, my mom needs me,” Lizzy rolls her eyes, “my aunt and uncle are visiting.” She sighs. “Does that mean?” I start to say but she finishes my sentence. “My annoying little cousin is here too.”

Lizzys cousin Theo is like 10 years old and the most annoying kid ever, he will tell his parents any gossip Lizzy says while she’s on the phone, he will constantly go through her stuff and he told Liz’s mom about my secret boyfriend 2 years ago and then my dad found out.. wasn’t fun.

I start to walk home as I get a text from Matt. “I have 2 hours where Chris and Nick aren’t here, at 5. Come over.” I smile and reply, “okayy.” I put my phone away and start to walk home faster. I hear footsteps running behind me, Mason. “Hey.” He smiles, breathing heavily. “How far did you run?” I laugh slightly.

“Just from the bench down there to.. here.” His cheeks are slightly flushed. “I thought you were an athlete, how are you out of breath from that?” I scoff. “I am an athlete y/n, I just didn’t stretch.” He rolls his eyes. “Why are you walking with me?” I ask him, raising an eyebrow. “Oh I am meeting my friends this way to walk home.”

“What are you doing in like an hour?” He asks me, breaking the silence. I look up at him with confusion. “Why?” I hesitantly ask. “I dunno if you wanna like get coffee or something.” He shrugs. He’s got nice intentions but no.

“I’m busy sorry.” I sigh, trying to act sympathetic. “Oh.. no worries, it was worth asking.” He smiles. About 10 minutes pass and I’m about to turn down my street, “I thought you were meeting your friends?” I tilt my head, “yeah I am, in the field down there.” He points down the main road and smiles softly. “Oh okay, this is my street so I’ll see ya.” I smile back.

“Bye y/n!” He calls as I walk away. He’s a sweet person but I just can’t find him attractive, hopefully he finds someone else to like. I walk through my front door to see my dad laying on the couch with a Pepsi in his hand watching sports or something. “Hey dad.” I smile, “hey pumpkin, how was your day?”

Pumpkin is the nickname he’s called me for the past 12 years, because when I was 6 around Halloween we went to a pumpkin patch with mom and I was running and fell face first into a pile of pumpkins and it went all over me. I cried but he thought it was funny to call me pumpkin after that. Now I find it a sweet nickname but I hated it when I was a kid.

“It was okay, I’m going out in like an hour.” I tell him, he nods. “No worries, stay safe though.” I walk upstairs to my bedroom and lay on my bed, spreading my limbs out on it. I take a deep breath before going in the shower.

After my shower I dry my hair and get dressed into a basic fit, I want to be comfy bc I know what’s gonna go down. I do some makeup, not too much, and I go downstairs to leave. “Bye dad!” I call as I leave, “see you later y/n!” I hear from the kitchen. I walk to his house, as it’s only 15 minute walk away, although last time I took a cab.

I finally arrive at Matts house and I see the expensive car is gone. I knock the door hoping Chris and Nick are not there. Luckily Matt opens in and smiles when he sees me, “I’m guessing either Nick or Chris drive the Porsche?” I smirk, “yeah Chris spent a stupid amount of money on it, I drive it sometimes too.” He explains as we walk in.

We sit on the couch, “Deja vu.” I laugh softly, “yeah, except this time I won’t freak out.” He chuckles, “prove it.” I taunt him with a smirk, he tilts his head and grins before leaning in and kissing me, this time feels more passionate.

His hand finds place at the back of my head and the other one on my thigh. My hands entangle in his hair as he pushes me back on the couch slightly, deepening the kiss. His tongue explores my mouth and I let out a soft moan as his hand rubs my upper thigh. He breaks the kiss partially to say something.

“Let’s go upstairs, don’t wanna make a mess on my couch.” He breathes out. I nod and go to stand up but he picks me up like a princess and carries me up the stairs, walking into his room which has a comforting vibe to it. Before I can take it all in he throws me down onto the satin sheets.

“Bet Chris didn’t do this did he?” Matt smirks as he slides my shorts off pulling me to the edge of the bed. “No, it was different because he had to stand and hold me the whole ti-” I start speaking but Matts hand covers my mouth. “I don’t need to hear how my brother fucked you okay?” He looks at me before removing my panties quickly.

He kneels at the end of the bed, his hot breath fanning against my inner thigh as he moves my legs onto his shoulders. “Gonna make you feel good, treat you for being such a good girl in class.” He peppers kisses along my thighs closer and closer to my heat as I squirm. I can’t believe I’m actually doing this with him, he’s had a change of heart now that he knows Chris fucked me first. He’s gonna make this a competition between them I know it.

He starts to kitten lick my folds to tease me, I whine pushing towards him for more. He grabs my hip with one hand, pushing it against the bed to stop me moving. Without warning he dips his tongue inside of me before swirling it around my clit. My back arches off the bed as I moan out.

He grabs both my thighs and pulls me closer, his tongue lapping at my heat. “Fuck Matt..” my hands travel down to his hair as I grip it tightly. He continues to swish and swirl his tongue around me, occasionally dipping it into me causing my back to arch and my grip on his hair to tighten.

“Matt.. I can’t.. I’m gonna cum.. please..” I whimper as his pace doesn’t slow. He hums against me, the vibration hitting my clit in the right way which results in me reaching my high and coming undone. He licks up the rest of my arousal before bringing his face up towards me, I wipe the sweat off of my forehead and breathe heavily.

He leans to kiss me, my arousal still on his chin and I turn my head away, “wipe that off ya lips before kissing me.” I chuckle softly, “you don’t wanna taste yourself? Hm?” He continues to try and put his face by mine, teasing and joking around. “Definitely not, it’s gross.” I squirm, “I disagree, I could have my head between your thighs every day.” He smirks, lifting his shirt to wipe the arousal from his mouth.

“Will you kiss me now?” He grabs my cheeks and brings my face to face his. I nod and he pushes his lips to mine his tongue instantly exploring my mouth, I bite his lip softly and he groans. “Fuck I need you.. to feel you.” He whispers lowly. “Please do..” I whine softly, “You’re gonna take it like the good girl you are.. yeah?” He asks, looking me in the eyes with lust.

“Yes.. of course.. definitely.. I will.” I speak rapidly, needing to feel him inside of my walls. He starts to unbuckle his belt, not breaking the eye contact. He begins to pull down his pants but then.. Slam.

Both of us look towards the bedroom door and back at eachother, “that was a car door right?” I whisper and Matt nods, he checks his watch. “It’s 6pm they said they’d be back at 7.. shit.” He re does his pants back up and I sit up, “get your clothes on.” He throws my panties and shorts at me. His entire tone and body language has changed and now it’s more tense.

“Jeez okay..” I put my clothes back on, I feel gross he didn’t clean me up or anything but I can’t go to the bathroom because they’re home. “What do I do?” I whisper, “just shut up a sec okay?” He snaps, “oh.” I sigh and sit back on the bed. “Matt?” I hear Chris call from downstairs, “stay here.” He spoke softly and I nod, “good girl.” He mumbles before leaving the room and closing it behind me.

I grab my phone from his dresser and open it, 4 missed calls from Lizzy? What the fuck? I text Lizzy, “hey everything okay?” She replies almost instantly, “No. But it’s fine now, no thanks to you though.” Fuck. “I’m pretty busy right now Liz I’m sorry.” I would help her right now but I don’t know what’s happening with me and Matt.

She leaves me on opened. Great, I don’t even know what’s happening or what her problem is. Matt comes back in and grabs my arm, quickly leading me downstairs and through the front door, “see you on Monday.” He whispers flicking his hand so I leave shutting the door behind me. So rude, I thought he was actually giving a fuck about me. It’s raining too, I’m gonna get hypothermia.

I turn to walk down the street away from his house and I hear someone call my name, I look up quickly to see.. Chris?? “Y/n? Why are you by my house?” He asks walking closer, my eyes widen in fear. “Uh.. I was.. fuck, I don’t know.” I lie looking down at my feet. “You stalking me?” He chuckles, I laugh lightly and shake my head.

“No, not that.” I sigh, “it’s cold and raining, you wanna come in for a warm drink or something?” He smiles lightly, I can’t go back in there especially if I just got kicked out by Matt. I thought Chris got home with Nick? “I can’t sorry, I’m going home.” I smile softly, “oh okay.” He looks disappointed. “You were in my house weren’t you?” He steps closer so we are inches apart.

“What no! Why would I be-” I go to like but he cuts me off, “you were with Matt. I know because I heard you shuffling around upstairs when he came downstairs to greet us.” He spoke sternly. “If you were inside then how are you out here?” I ask, looking up at him. “I watched you leave from my bedroom window, then I snuck downstairs and got out quickly to see you.” He sighs.

“So you were stalking me?” I chuckle, “you were the one inside of my house,” he laughs softly, “about that, what were you and Matt doing?” He asks me, but I know he knows the answer. I tilt my head at him, “we didn’t fuck.” I cross my arms, “I never said you did.” He smirks, “I’d rather not go into details.” I scoff.

“Mhm, he wouldn’t have been able to fuck you as good as I can.. right?” He leans down slightly and I shrug. “Right?” He asks again more aggressively. I smirk, “sure whatever you want to believe.” I go to turn around to walk away. “Let me drive you home, you’re gonna get wet ma.” The nickname causes me to turn quickly, “I already am.” I smirk, “in what way?” He tilts his head.

“Not the way you’re thinking, that’s inappropriate Mr Sturniolo.” I bite my lip lightly, “I’ll bring my car around, so Matt doesn’t see you.” He nods and rushes around the corner, the tension was so strong but the rain is getting worse I can’t think about anything other than my hands freezing off. The Porsche drives around the corner and pulls up, I open the passenger door and get in.

“Thanks.” I breathe out, he presses the seat heaters on and leans in the seat behind him and pulls out one of his jackets. “Put that on, you should wear it to school on Monday.” He smirks, “it’s a college not a school.” I scoff, “same thing, and I can take the jacket back if you’re gonna be ungrateful.” He looks at me before laughing slightly.

“You know.. I should be mad that you were with my brother but for some reason, I don’t give a shit.” He adds, turning on music, “Maybe it’s because you’ve got a bigger-” I stop myself, “a bigger??” He asks, “Ego.” I huff. “Sure, sure.” He smiles.

He pulls over for a moment “Wait where do you live? I just realised I don’t know where I’m going.” He looks at me, “we don’t need to go to my house right now.” I grin, “what’re you thinking?” He tilts his head, “I think we should go for a drive and chill out.” I smile.

“Does chilling out include you riding me in the backseat or..” he laughs and I do too, “Chris!” I say and pause for a moment. “Maybe.. just keep driving.” I add. He smiles widely and starts to drive again..

A/n: I haven’t written this in a while but omg I’m excited to continue, I’m pretty busy with school atm but I will try to update asap. Also sorry for edging y’all with this.. why am I kinda team Chris tho 😖 and Matt is kinda an asshole sorry not sorry

@blahbel668 @mattsleftnipple03 @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @hysteria-things @mattybslover @jakevwebber @braindead4l @mattybearnard @st7rnioioss @junnniiieee07 @bueckerslover @fratbrochrisgf @sturniol0s @alwayssublimedelusion @certifiednatelover @freshsturns @riasturns @sturniololvrrr @maryx2xx @whicked-hazlatwhore @cammie4298 @sturnsjtop @sturnzblog @chr1sgirl4life @evie-sturns @milasturniolo @jaxyy219 @mattsturniolosbae @h3arts4harry @littlebookworm803 @realqueenofpepsi @elsxz1 @jnkvivi

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolos #chris sturniolo fanfic #smut #matt #Chris

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peachhcs · 5 months ago

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she's not her.

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

will thinks the combine will help him get his mind off samy, but that completely backfires when he realizes she's everywhere with him.

3.2k words

hiii here's the first (new) installment of the new breakup timeline of the au!! (also so long wow) i'm writing four of the major points of the breakup into fics, but if you guys want smaller blurbs about any of it, send them to the inbox. cassidy is a completely fake character here, but zeev and james are real people! (i don't know the other boys too well, sorry!!)

au masterlist

“yeah, mom. it’s going great,” will hummed as he shuffled around his room searching for his keycard despite him already being ten minutes late.

the boy could never keep his belongings straight whenever he stayed in a hotel room by himself. how did he even manage before? the answer hit will before he could even really think about it because you know who was always with him on these things?

he knew who and he was not going to say her name. will promised himself he’d use this week to just forget about all of his problems and just enjoy getting to know the other guys here and that meant he was not going to say—

“samy’s mom called me earlier. she asked about you,” damn it. whatever his mom was saying before didn’t process in his brain because he snapped right back into reality as soon as the name left his mom’s lips.

and why on earth was she referring to ellen as “samy’s mom.” will knew his mom always, always called her ellen. she probably read his mind or something knowing he was trying (and failing) to not think about her this week.

“oh. okay,” will didn’t know what to say, so he continued searching for the stupid keycard.

“i told her you were at the combine having fun. she told me samy’s at her sleepaway camp for the week too,” mrs. smith continued even though she knew will didn’t want to talk about samy at all.

“mom, can you not?” the boy mumbled.

“can i not what, will? she’s still a part of this family, so i am gonna ask about her and tell you because i know you still care,” colleen had a point and the blonde hated it because she was right.

he did care. of course, he cared no matter how much he didn’t want to. that was the hardest part about all of this.

“i gotta go. i’m already running a bit late. i’ll talk to you later, mom. love you,” they exchanged their goodbyes as soon as will found what he wanted under a pile of clothes in the corner.

“thank god,” the boy mumbled as raced out of his room to where some of the guys he met were waiting down in the lobby.

will felt so new to all of this—the media, the sudden popularity, the press. these guys seemed so used to it all yet he was so lost in it all still. he spotted his new friends in some of the chairs awaiting his presence, so he mustered up his best smile as he approached them.

“there you are, smitty. where were you?” zeev spots the blonde first, his legs hung over the armrest of the chair.

“sorry, i lost my keycard. i had to find it before i left,” will explained a bit embarrassingly. the other guys laughed him off though and that’s when the blonde noticed a few girls mixed into the group now. a few of them sent eyes his way, whispering things to one another which made will’s cheeks flush a slight pink color, but not in the blushing kind of way.

“come on, i’m starving. those lines got me wanting anything,” cole muttered as the group pushed themselves to the door. the five of them plus the three new girls walked down the sidewalk chatting about anything in hopes of taking their minds off food until they found something.

“hey, you’re will, right?” the new voice caught the blonde off guard.

to his right was one of the new girls in the group he didn’t really know. her name was along the lines of cassidy, but he wasn’t 100% sure. “yeah, that’s me,” he laughed lightly.

“nice to finally meet you. i’m cassidy, but everyone calls me cass,” she held her hand out with a big smile. will stared at her outstretched hand for a moment, his mind running in circles.

this could be his chance to finally forget about samy. he said he needed an distraction and this seemed like the perfect one. plus, what was the harm in a little flirting? he took her hand a moment later.

“nice to meet you, too. you play for minnesota, right?” will wondered, watching cass’s eyes light up that he even knew that about her.

“yeah, i do!”

“you guys had a real good season. i was impressed,” her smile continued growing with will’s words.

“yeah, we did. i mean, you guys were incredible, too. you dominated the ice,” she gushed a little making will flush. he knew people watched his games from all over the place, but he never paid much attention to all of that.

not when he was always thinking about samy watching the livestream from her dorm room while cheering him on. wait. no.

no. there was no samy.

“thanks. it wasn’t always easy, but the fans made it worth it,” the boy hummed. cass grinned again, letting their conversation die into comfortable silence as they followed their group into a restaurant someone chose.

the young hockey player spotted rutger and some of his buddies at a nearby table making him stop in his tracks for a second. he knew rut would be here, but he just hoped he’d manage to avoid him because he knew the older boy probably hated him knowing what happened between him and samy.

some of the guys behind him pushed will forward again. his eyes glued themselves to where rutger sat in a laughing fit over what someone at his table said. the older boy held his chest, violently shaking from laughter and finally looked in will’s direction. the two met each other’s gazes and in a surprise gesture, rutger nodded toward the younger boy.

that threw will off guard. he studied rut for a second longer until someone pushed him forward again and he landed in his seat.

“woah, careful smitty. you okay?” james laughed a little as he walked around to his seat. the others glanced will’s way.

“yeah, sorry. got a little distracted,” the blonde excused himself, eyes diverting to the menu to get the attention off of him. the others shrugged, returning to their conversation while will’s eyes stayed right on his menu.

“what’s your favorite food?” cass’s voice filled will’s ears again. he looked up, her eyes already on him where she sat in the seat next to his.

“anything, really. i tend to eat anything,” the boy mumbled with an awkward smile.

“hey, i’m the same way. i’ve never been too picky about my food,” she returned his smile.

“my sister’s a big picky eater. our mom was always making three different meals for the family because we were all eating different things,” the blonde chuckled as some of the nerves he had earlier started subsiding.

the two quickly hit it off, having their own little conversations throughout lunch. will’s smile was big when cass laughed at the things he said and he laughed right back at her own corny jokes. it felt refreshing for the blonde. he suddenly didn’t have this heavy feeling in his chest anymore that he’s had since the end of may. this felt really good.

but what did they say about good things? they never lasted long? something like that.

will’s gaze would bounce over to where rutger still was every so often. the older boy was never looking in his direction when will looked, too occupied with his own conversations, but rut did glance over at the younger blonde when he wasn’t looking too.

rut only heard bits and pieces about the breakup, but he knew samy was really hurt from all of it and while the older hockey player wasn’t one to involve himself in things that he wasn’t a part of, he couldn’t but watch what looked like will laugh a little too hard with that girl.

sure, will could do whatever he wanted and rutger didn’t care. the boy did care, however, about the fact that it looked like will was trying to talk up a new girl not even two weeks after breaking up with samy. that bothered rutger because he knew if ethan or mark were here, they wouldn’t be afraid to go over and bitch at will.

rutger’s subtle glances finally caught will’s. the blonde was in the middle of a conversation with cass when he caught the glance from the corner of his eye. rut was looking right a him with a look on his face that will knew wasn’t good.

“you good?” cass wondered when she noticed will’s attention shift.

the boy’s attention immediately snapped back to hers, “yeah, sorry. my bad. what was i saying?” his words rushed out together making him come off a bit nervous.

“something about…sumer on a boat or something?” cass reminded him.

“right, yes. yeah. so, as i was saying,” will’s mind couldn’t stop thinking about rutger’s look. it felt like a warning or..disapproval? disappointment?

why could he never escape samy no matter how hard he tried? it was like she was everywhere.

“every summer my family and i go to this lakehouse in michigan. my best friend and i—well, used to be best best friend would always stay up super late to see how many planets we could count. whoever counted the most by the end of the summer would buy one another something the other really wanted,” will hummed, somehow always finding ways to talk about samy without even realizing it. a small smile was on his lips at that memory because he was the one buying samy things by the end of the summer every time.

“huh, that sounds interesting. aren’t the same planets always coming out at night though so how does that work?” cass’s expression became puzzled.

will’s gaze snapped to hers, his face flushing again. “i mean, yeah, but different ones will come out and go away as the summer goes on. it was just some little thing..” the boy’s voice trailed off as he slowly realized that game only really made sense to him and samy because they were the ones who came up with it when they were younger.

cass didn’t look too impressed though. the blonde’s eyes swept over to rutger again who wasn’t looking at him this time, but will still couldn’t get that look out of his head nor the fact that he talked about samy without even trying after trying so hard to forget about her this week.

it seemed like everything will did or said led him straight back to samy. shit.

who was he kidding? he couldn’t flirt with someone. he didn’t even know how to flirt because he never really had to with samy.

cass’s attention drifted away from the boy and no one else was really looking at him, so will took that as his chance to excuse himself. he needed air or something to just get out of his fucking head. the boy scrambled out of his seat in a rushed goodbye, hurrying off to the bathroom before anyone could really bat an eye.

rutger’s gaze fell on the younger boy as he retreated further back into the restaurant. he saw will’s friends glancing around for a moment before letting him be. the older brunette gazed one more time before saying fuck it and going after will.

the blonde stumbled into the bathroom suddenly feeling hot. his hand clutched his chest where his heart wouldn’t stop pounding a bruise on the spot while his other hand grabbed ahold of the edge of the counter, bending over the sink as if he was going to puke. will squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that would slow his heart rate down, but it only heightened as his breathing picked up into heavy pants.

“fuck, pull yourself together,” will mumbled to mostly himself.

she’s not her. she’s not her. she’s not her. the stupid phrase replayed itself over and over in will’s mind.

the bathroom door swung open with rutger rushing to will’s side when he saw the kid bent over the sink while panting. “jesus christ, will? are you okay?” the older brunette bent down to will’s level, trying to meet his eyes.

“i can’t breathe,” will managed through his hyperventilating.

rutger looked around, realizing no one else was in the bathroom with them. he wasn’t really an expert in this, never really having dealt with panic attacks before.

“hey, yes you can. it’s okay. i’m here,” rutger tried his best, his attention back on will.

“she’s not her,” now the blonde was crying.

“what are you talking about?” the older hockey player grew confused. the heavy pants and now tears didn’t make it easy for him to understand what was being said.

“she won’t ever be her. i fucked up, rut,” will got out a bit clearer this time.

rutger quickly understood.

“do you want me to call her? i can call her?” rut eased his tone, finishing for his phone in his pocket.

“no, no. don’t,” will shook his head. he couldn’t call samy like this. plus, she didn’t want to speak to him ever again, making it very clear after blocking him on nearly everything.

“will, i gotta call someone. you’re freaking me out,” the older boy said.

“call gabe or ryan. i need to talk to them,” so rutger listened and searched his contacts until he landed on ryan’s number first.

the phone rang three times until ryan finally answered. “rutger? what’s up?” the younger brunette sounded confused that the michigan hockey player was randomly calling him.

“hey, sorry for the call. i-i’m with will. he’s..he’s having a panic attack i think. he wanted to talk to you,” rutger explained the situation, eyes on will who’s breathing began slowing down.

“shit, is he okay?” ryan urged.

“i-i think so? i don’t know. i’m not an expert in this,” rut held the phone out for will to take.

the blonde’s shaky hand brought the phone up to his ear, “hey leno,” he managed weakly.

“will? are you okay?” ryan’s voice was laced with concern. he never called will by his first name unless there was something serious going on.

the guilt and shame quickly settled into will’s body. his eyes glanced to rutger standing beside him still and then his head fell. “i fucked up, ryan. i realize i fucked up now.”

“what are you talking about?” ryan didn’t get it.

“everything brings me back to her. no can be her no matter how hard i think they are or want them to be,” the blonde frowned deeply, especially because he was admitting this in front of one of samy’s closest guy friends.

ryan didn’t need to ask twice who his friend was talking about while a pause came from his end as he digested will’s admission. rutger realized this seemed like a conversation he wasn’t a part of, so he just squeezed the blonde’s shoulder and nodded towards the door saying to just find him when will was done with his phone.

“i’m gonna add gabe to the call, okay?” ryan finally said as will sunk down onto the ground. he didn’t care that the bathroom floor was incredibly disgusting because he could not go back out and face his friends out there without muttering some lame excuse about leaving.

“uh, hey?” gabe connected a moment later, confused about why he was on a call with ryan and rutger mcgroarty.

“hey, it’s me. will’s on the call with rutger’s phone,” ryan explained.

“oh. is everything okay?” gabe wondered, still confused on what was happening.

“i fucked up really bad. i know that now,” will said and gabe also didn’t have to ask twice about what his friend was talking about.

“what made you finally come to this conclusion?” ryan asked, trying not to sound bitter. he knew will was having a hard time, but he would not forget samy showing up to his house in tears after their breakup.

“i really, really thought i could just forget about her at the combine and just enjoy myself, but everytime i talk to someone, i always end up talking about her no matter how hard i try not to. she’s everywhere in my mind. i thought i could stupidly talk to this girl..be a distraction? i don’t know, but i think i just really wanted her to be samy instead,” will admitted sheepishly.

“yeah..that happens after having such a history with someone,” gabe said.

“i know i fucked up. you don’t need to keep telling me that. i feel like shit about it,” will scoffed, rolling his eyes a bit.

“as much as i hate you for doing what you did and never wanting to see samy that hurt again, maybe you should talk to her,” ryan finally said, tone softening out.

“i can’t talk to her even if i wanted to. she blocked me on everything almost immediately,” the blonde frowned.

“look, we all make mistakes. it’s human nature. are you an asshole for hurting her? yes. am i still mad at you for it? yes. do i think you fucked up completely though? no. maybe give it some more time and then reach out. things are still fresh, emotions are still high. we all know samy and we know she doesn’t hold a grudge for that long,” gabe gave his two cents about it as well.

“i wouldn’t blame her if she did hold a grudge for a while though,” ryan cut in.

“jesus, shut up, leno. i get it,” the blonde rolled his eyes.

“look, we’re always here for you, will. I’ll be in boston next, so i’ll see you and we can talk more, yeah?” gabe spoke again before ryan and will started fighting or something.

“yeah, thanks. sorry for bothering you guys,” will frowned a bit.

“don’t sweat it. love ya, smitty,” that made will smile again.

“yeah, love you i guess. just try to have a good time for the rest of the week,” ryan said and will nodded even though they couldn’t see him.

“thanks, love you guys too. talk later,” they hung up after that.

will pushed himself back to his feet, splashing water on his face to hopefully get rid of his red and flushed cheeks. he carefully pushed the bathroom door back open, surveying the restaurant for rutger’s table.

the boy made his way over, nudging rutger’s arm when he was closer. the older boy looked over, “thanks,” will said.

“of course. you okay, now?”

the blonde nodded. he glanced to his table where a few of the guys met his gaze, waving him over. he walked towards them, already having decided he wasn’t all that hungry anymore and just wanted to be alone for a bit.

“there you are! you good?” zeev asked seeing his friend.

“yeah, not feeling too well. i think i’m gonna head back. sorry,” will muttered out his excuse.

“oh, okay. feel better man. text me,” zeev said and will nodded before making his exit.

he didn’t even look cassidy’s way. the only girl on his mind was samy and it was gonna stay like that for a long time.

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jamdoughnutmagician · 9 months ago

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Tiny Match-maker

Bucky Barnes x Single mom!Reader Fluff

Adjusting to his new life outside of the superhero business, Bucky makes the acquaintance of a very young, inquisitive girl.

Just a meet-cute scenario with Bucky, that I might just write a part 2 for if people are interested in it.

Word count:1,853.

Masterlist // Bucky Barnes Masterlist

It wasn’t often that Bucky found time for himself. Between the busy and at times chaotic line of work he found himself in, it didn’t leave a lot of time to do the things that the average person could do.

Doctor Raynor suggested that taking a step back from the heroic, android, alien, wizard-crime-fighting lifestyle might be just the thing that he needed. To take some time to do the things that the everyday person took for granted.

So that’s why Bucky found himself for the first time in a long while browsing the aisles of his local grocery store, standing in the middle of the dairy aisle, pondering if there’s any real difference between getting oat milk or almond milk.

He’s brought out of his thinking when he feels something collide with his shins. Something, or rather someone. A young girl, she couldn’t have been more than three, maybe four years old. Her hair that is tied up into two bunches on either side of her head bounce slightly as she crashes into him.

He looks around himself, apart from him and this little girl, the aisle was otherwise empty.

What was he supposed to do? He’d rescued thousands of civilians time and time again, but this little girl was just standing there, wide-eyed and innocently looking up at him.

“Hi! My name’s Lottie!” the little girl introduces herself with a big gap-toothed smile.

Bucky crouches down ever so slightly to meet her smaller stature.

“Hi there, Where are your parents, huh? Are you lost?” he asks, keeping his voice soft when talking to her.

Just as the little girl opened her mouth to answer, a woman came running down the aisle, slightly out of breath and with a look of panic on her face.

As she gets closer, Bucky takes in her appearance, she's pretty. Really pretty. The kind of effortless beauty that has a faint blush rising to his cheeks.

“Charlotte!” the woman calls out as she comes closer to the little girl before scooping her up in her arms and hoisting her on her hip. “What have I told you about running off like that?” you gently scold her, although the scolding is more out of your own worries about your little girl.

“Sorry mommy.” she murmurs quietly as she tucks her head into your shirt.

“I’m so sorry, sir, I hope she didn’t bother you too much.” you smile apologetically at the man in front of you. He was tall, broad and far too handsome for his own good. With soft dark brown hair that fell along his jaw, pretty pink lips, the most beautiful stormy grey-blue eyes, and just the right amount of stubble grazing across his angled jaw to have you blushing as he looked your way.

“Oh, hey, no harm done, she seems like a sweet kid.” he smiles, his voice is deep and rich, with a slight raspy gravel.

“Yeah, she is, although it would help if she wasn’t so much of an explorer, it’d be a lot easier to keep my eye on her otherwise.” you laugh.

“No, the world needs more explorers I say!” the handsome stranger joins in with a friendly chuckle of his own.

“Well, I can see you’re busy, so we won’t keep you any longer..” you string out the end of your sentence, when you realise that you don’t actually know your new friend’s name.

“James. My name’s James.” he says, gesturing to himself. You tell him your name in return with a friendly smile.

“Well, it was nice talking to you, James.” You smile before turning back down the aisle.

Bucky watched as you walked away from him, and he couldn't help but hope that he might run into you again.

“Look, all you gotta do is go down there, tell a few old man war stories, answer some questions, maybe have your picture taken a few times and that’s it” Sam explained.

Sam had signed Bucky up to tell a few stories to the kids at the school downtown. A few about his life back in the day, and his life now. Sam thought it might be good for his public image.

“Just because you’re Captain America now, doesn’t mean you get to tell me what to do, Sam.” Bucky grumbled.

“When Steve gave me the shield, he did warn me it came with the custody of one grumpy super-soldier.” Sam laughed a wide, gap-toothed smile at his friend.

“..And that’s why you don’t let your best friend sign-up to be a government ordered science experiment.” Bucky smiled, as he finished his talk with the assembled group of young students in the small, but colourful classroom.

“Wonderful, and does anybody have any questions for Sergeant Barnes?” The teacher asked, as she stepped out beside Bucky.

“How did you lose your arm?” a young boy blurts out, quickly raising his hand.

“Timothy!” The teacher is quick to gently scold the young boy, but Bucky quickly steps in before she can make her point.

“It’s quite alright, I don’t mind answering this question.” He assures the teacher, before turning to the young boy. “I-uh-I kind of lost it when I came up against a bunch of bad-guys, who weren’t very nice at all.” Bucky thinks carefully about how he was going to word his answer, especially for this 5-year old kid. “..But it’s all good now, because I’ve got the super-strong metal one.” he shows off by rolling up the sleeve of his deep-red henley shirt.

“Are you and The Falcon really friends?” another young boy asks from where he’s sat cross-legged on the carpet in front of Bucky.

“Well, we’re team-mates, so I guess I’d call him a friend, but really he only hangs out with me because I make him look cool.” Bucky jokes with ease.

“Mr. Sergeant Barnes.” A tiny hand shoots up amongst the group.

Bucky looks out and there sat at the back of the class is the little girl who ran into him at the grocery store at the weekend. Her bouncy curls tied up in two bunches on either side of her head.

“Yes, Lottie, you have a question for Sergeant Barnes?” The teacher prompts.

“Are you single? I think my mommy would really like you.” She smiles in that innocent way that children do, unaware of the slightly impertinent question she was asking.

Bucky flushes scarlet all over, a blooming heat settling over his features.

With a laugh and a nervous scratch to the back of his neck, he gathered himself together enough to answer the young girl.

“I am, and I’m sure your mommy is a wonderful lady, but I think it's best that we don't talk about her private life when she's not here.” Bucky stutters out, chosing his words very carefully.

The school bell suddenly rings into life, signifying the end of the day, and the children are all quick to get up from the carpet and make their way towards their coats and bags that are stowed away in their cubby holes.

“Ah ah, kids! What do we say to Sergeant Barnes?” The teacher prompts

“Thank you Sergeant Barnes.” The children say harmoniously.

Bucky shrugs on his dark leather jacket as he makes his way out of the school, watching as all of the kids rush off to find their parents.

He was just about to head off to the school’s parking lot, where he’d parked his motorbike, when he sees the same girl from the classroom, the very same one who had bumped into him at the grocery store, this time her tiny hand tugging her mother across the playground and straight towards him.

“Mommy! This is the man who came into class today to tell us stories!” Lottie bubbled excitedly.

You stepped closer to Bucky and he swears that you got even more beautiful than when he last saw you for that fleeting moment.

As you get close enough to him to fully see his face you are met with the piercing blue eyes of the familiar stranger who you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about since you’d bumped into him at the supermarket.

“Mommy! This is Mr. Sergeant Barnes! He told us all about working with his friend Captain America!” Lottie blurts out.

You had recognised him from the moment you saw him in the store, but out of courtesy to not embarrass him, you pretended that you didn't know about his life as an avenging super-soldier.

“Mr. Sergeant Barnes?” Your voice raises in a teased question.

“Just James is fine, Ma’am.” Bucky clarifies, extending a warm hand out in a friendly greeting.

In return you shake his hand and tell him your name.

“So, it seems that we’re meeting again, James” You smile

“Hah, yeah.” He smiles back fondly with a warm chuckle.

“So you’re the one who’s been telling my daughter all these fantastical stories?” you pose, eyebrow arched.

“Just something I do as a way of working with the local community. Helping young kids to learn about their history from first-hand accounts.” he explains.

“Well, that's a very sweet thing to do.” you smile.

“Mommy.” Lottie whispers as she tugs at the sleeve of your jacket. “He said he was single too!”

“Sorry about her, she likes to play match-maker.” you apologise, hoping that things hadn’t taken a turn for the awkward.

“It’s okay.” he laughs it off. “She’s a cute kid.”

“Yeah it’s just been me and her from the start, it’s been tough at times, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Oh? Well she seems like a wonderful young girl, and that’s only testament to having you as her mother.” he says with an earnest smile tugging at his pink lips.

“Come on now, Lottie, let’s head home, and let Mr. Sergeant Barnes get back to his life.” you say to your daughter as you begin to make your way out of the school’s playground.

“Wait!” He jogs across the school years to catch up with you before you can leave. “and you can absolutely tell me if I'm just reading this whole situation all wrong, but I'd be a fool if I didn't at least ask you if you perhaps fancied meeting up and getting coffee..at least meeting on purpose this time.” he blushes adorably.

“You know what, I'd like that actually.” You nod. “Let me give you my number and you can text me whenever you're free and we can set something up.”

He hands you over his phone and you enter your number in and text yourself so you have his number on your phone too.

“Here you go,” you say as you hand him over his phone. “It was nice seeing you again, James.”

“Bucky.”

“Hm?”

“My friends call me Bucky.”

“Well, Bucky, I hope to see you again, sooner rather than later.”

“You can count on it.” He grins back with a cheeky wink.

Bucky walks back to his apartment with a confident stride, he'd have to thank Sam for signing him up for this gig, that's for sure.

@penguinsandpotterheads @paybacksawitch @impmunson

#bucky x reader #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky x reader fluff #Bucky Barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes fluff #Bucky Barnes fanfiction #marvel fanfiction

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criminalmindswhore · 1 year ago

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Playlists Tell All

Tara finds your playlist titled Prentiss and looks through it while you drive. She and JJ tease you about it until Emily finally finds out.

BOTH HANDS ON THE PHONE AT ALL TIMES 🤨 Also, this is long bare with me, also not proofread, oops.

TW: SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT

It was no secret you were gay. It was apparent from the day you walked into the BAU wearing docs and a septum ring. Tara was the first to notice, lesbians find each other. You were never closeted to them but never shouted it in the bullpen either. If they asked, you told.

"Hey, Y/n can I ask you something?" Emily asked as you two went down the elevator. "Sure, what's up?" You smiled at her. "Are you gay?" She looked puzzled, "Miss BAU Unit Chief was the last to notice?" You chuckled and she looked offended, her mouth falling open. You were almost too distracted by your thoughts, 'I wonder if that's the face she makes when she-', to notice the elevator stop. "So like only women or?" She stepped out of the elevator, you following suit. You cringed at thinking of being with a man, "Only women." She chuckled, "I knew it." She stopped walking signaling you were parting ways for the night. The cold Virginia air made a chill run down your spine, or maybe you noticed the few shirt buttons undone on the way to the parking lot. "I'll see you tomorrow Y/n." She smiled at you and grabbed your bicep for a moment. The touch lingered in your brain, your skin on fire, "See you tomorrow Unit Chief of the gayest FBI unit." She laughed loudly at your comment as she walked away, her grey hair swaying with which step.

Your talks with Emily to your cars became a nightly thing, on purpose from your end but she didn't need to know that.

After a case in Northern VA, Tara, JJ and you were in an SUV driving back to Quantico. Tara deemed you the driver as you were a 'young sprite who would stay awake longer'. Your phone became the AUX phone and Tara sat up front scrolling through your music creating the perfect queue. Her eyes widened as she came across a playlist titled, 'long talks with Prentiss'. She sat straight up and looked at you. You turned your head to glance at her, then back at the road, "What?" She leaned back against the seat, "Nothing." JJ's interest was now peaked, "Tara, you gotta tell us now." Tara scrolled through the songs:

She - Dodie

girls - girl in red

1950 - King Princess

She's My Religion - Pale Waves

I Wanna Be Yours - Arctic Monkeys

Call Out My Name - The Weekend

and on and on and on...

Tara came up with a genius plan, queuing up all the songs. The second girls came on, it clicked. "Tara, I can explain." She just laughed, "Explain that you have a huge crush on someone almost 30 years older than you?" JJ put down her Cheetos, "Wait? Emily?" Your grip on the wheel tightened and your cheeks turned bright red. "Can you two just not?" Tara chuckled, "Oh no miss thing, you have to spill now." JJ laughed from the backseat.

You weighed your options, either tell them and they tease you about it, or you don't and they tease you even worse until you spill, "Fine," the two women high-fived, "but it doesn't leave this car. Clear?" JJ saluted at you and Tara nodded. "She's just so hot dude. How could I not find her attractive and she does that stupid thing when she's focused where she licks her lip and then bites it." You were gushing like a high school girl at this point. "And don't get me started on her hands." JJ cringed slightly. "Okay, but she's 1, your boss, and 2, old enough to be your mom." You sighed and grimaced, "Why do you think it lives in my head? I have a playlist and that's it. She will never know and no one else will." Tara shook her head, "Honey she probably already knows. Emily is one of the best profilers in the world, not only that she's got those super-secret spy skills. Has she been acting differently towards you?" You shook your head, "No, I mean we've been talking one-on-one a lot more but that's just because we usually leave at the same time." Tara hummed and JJ laughed loudly, "What JJ?" You were still horrified at the current situation and her finding it humorous was not helping. "She did mention how she knows someone in her inner circle is attracted to her but didn't wanna bring it up." She leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms. "JJ! You can't just tell me that!" Tara was losing it, doubled over in laughter. "You both suck."

It didn't get brought up again during the case. You thought it had blown over until you were all standing in the bullpen after the case chatting while people packed up bags and files. "Hey guys, what are laughing about?" Prentiss asked as she joined the group, bag in hand. "Reid is so oblivious to how much his neighbor wants to get in his pants," Luke explained while still laughing. Emily licked her bottom lip before pulling it between her teeth, Taras's head shot around to look at you wiggling her eyebrows. You scoffed and smacked her arm. "What's going on there?" Emily asked while smiling at you two, "Oh god are two?" Tara laughed and you nearly threw up in your mouth. The whole team was now looking at you and Tara with their mouths open, "God no! Tara and I are not sleeping together!" The team erupted into laughter except for you and Emily, staring into each other's eyes. She smiled sweetly at you and your face got hot. "I am going home, you guys enjoy bullying Reid." You grabbed your bag and stood up off your desk, "Wait, I'll walk with you, let me grab my cup from the kitchen." Emily took off swiftly to retrieve her mug and JJ gave you the 'I know something they don't' look. You glared at her and went to wait for Emily by the elevators. She approached you and pressed the down button, "Ready?" You nodded and stepped into the elevator.

The following week was full of being teased by JJ & Tara and Emily knowing something was up. Emily entirely said, "If someone made a playlist based on me I would be honored," while working a case. Which earned a stare from JJ and a muffled laugh from Tara.

One night you and Emily were heading down together like you usually did, "Hey, have you been seeing someone? Tara and JJ seem to know something about you no one else does." As you unlocked your car you froze. "Um, no, there's just a running inside joke going." You shrugged your shoulders trying your best to control your microexpressions. She seemed happy with your answer and wished you goodnight. You got in the car and turned on the playlist, your phone screen still open to it when someone knocked at your window. You rolled it down and Emily glanced at your lap, "Hey did you notice if- is that my name?" Her face was shocked, yours was pure fear. You flipped your phone over, "No." She saw right through you, "Y/n, let me see." She was smiling in a way you've never seen before. You didn't budge until Emily reached through the window and snatched your phone, turning away from your car. You unbuckled yourself and jumped out, "Emily please." It was too late.

She turned around, mouth agape, "Y/n, is this how you feel about me?" Her voice was low and dropped an octave. It shot shivers through your body erupting your core. You didn't know what to say, the damage was done. She stepped closer, reached behind you, and slid your phone into your back pocket. She went to move her hands but you grabbed her arms, holding them on your ass. "Emily." Your desperation showing in your voice. It set something off in her. Before you could process it, Emily's lips were on yours and your back was hitting your car. Her hands are on your hips gripping you tight. You snaked your arms around her neck gripping her hair. Her lips moved furiously on yours, her tongue swiping against your lips. The action made you whimper giving her access to your mouth. You could feel her chest moving on yours as she breathed heavily. She pulled away but kept her face inches from yours, "Y/n," she sighed, "This can't happen." You dropped your arms from her neck, she didn't move. "Fuck it." She said in the hottest fucking voice you've ever heard, you moaned at the sound before she attached her lips to yours again.

As her apartment door closed, bags were dropped, jackets discarded. Her lips moved against your neck as you gripped her shirt, "Emily, please." She chuckled, "Already begging for me pretty girl?" You moaned at the praise and Emily lifted a brow, "Oh you liked that huh?" Her arm reached around you to harshly grabbed your ass, "You like being praised by your boss huh? Like the slut you are?" Your knees buckled under you and she gripped your hips to keep you upright. Emily continued her attack on your neck as she pulled you to her bedroom, dropping you on the bed with a thump. "Pretty girl I need you to verbally consent for me before I fuck you senseless." She unbuttoned her shirt as you spoke, "Yes Emily, please. I need you." She slipped her shirt off exposing her black lace bra to you and you stared in awe. She laughed at you and took a finger under your chin pulling your eyes back to hers, "Up here." She spoke sternly and you didn't dare disobey at the risk of her leaving you high and dry. She straddled your lap and started undoing your shirt at an agonizing speed. You squirmed under her from impatience, "Ah, patience sweet girl. I'll get there. Although I understand why you're so needy after months of wanting me exactly like this. On top of you getting ready to make you scream my name." She slipped off your shirt and leaned in close, "I believe it was, call out my name I saw on that playlist of yours?" She left a wet sloppy kiss behind your ear. You could feel the pool of wetness growing between your legs.

She kissed down your collarbones as she unclasped your bra, throwing it somewhere in the room. She kissed down to your chest until she reached your left nipple, swirling her tongue around it, "Mhm, fuck yes." You gripped her hair harder than you planned on eliciting a moan from her. It was music to your fucking ears. She discarded her slow and steady pace and reached down to unbuckle your belt, undoing your pants and slipping them past your ankles. They hit the floor with a metallic clink before she kissed down your stomach. She pulled off your underwear with her teeth, the sight nearly making you finish right then and there. "Emily, you're wearing too much, I wanna see you." Your voice was slurring, you were so drunk on every single thing you were feeling. She sat up and undid her bra, slipping it off, her perfect breasts falling against her chest. She was perfect. She stood for a second taking off her pants, revealing her perfectly toned legs.

She positioned herself between your legs and licked up your slit. The sensation making your head spin. Your hands gripping her sheets as she took your clit between her lips humming at the taste of you. "You are so in for it Y/n." Hearing her say your name like that was music to your ears. She started flicking her tongue against your clit and your back arched off the bed. She reached one of her hands up grabbing yours giving you something to ground yourself to this moment. You gripped her hands tightly as she teased you with the other hand. Emily removed her mouth from you looking up at you making eye contact, "Beg for it." Your words got caught in your throat causing Emily to completely move her hand away from you and harshly grip your thigh, "I told you to do something Y/n." You swallowed, "Please Emily. Please fuck me. Emily, I need you, please." She smiled devilishly before slamming two fingers inside of you setting a rough pace. "That's my pretty little slut." The cockiness apparent in her tone of voice. She maintained eye contact as she reattached her lips to your clit, pulling it between her teeth softly.

Emily's pace showed no mercy as she fucked you roughly. Her tongue and lips worked against your clit as she pumped her fingers in and out of you roughly. You were so close to coming undone and she could tell. She removed her mouth from you, still fucking you with her fingers, "Do you want to cum?" You writhed under her nearly screaming from pleasure, all you could muster was a nod. "I need words." You opened your eyes and looked into hers, "Yes. Please. I'll do anything." She smirked and let go of your hand, wrapping it around your throat. You moaned her name so loudly you swore the whole building would hear, but neither of you cared. She whispered against your clit, "Cum for me Y/n." She licked your clit once more before you came screaming her name and a slew of curse words. She continued her pace fucking you through the high until your body fell limp. She slowed her pace and slowly pulled her hands from you. She kissed up your stomach, "Such a good girl. You did so good pretty girl." She pressed a sweet kiss to your cheek before disappearing into the bathroom and returning with a warm, wet washcloth. She sat down at your feet, "Is it okay if I clean you up?" Her tone was gentle and slow. You nodded, not having feelings in your face. Your whole body felt like it was vibrating. She was soft and gentle, discarding the cloth into the dirty laundry.

She pulled a t-shirt over her head and laid one out at the end of the bed. She laid next to you, pulling you into her. You wrapped your arms around her waist before snuggling your head into her neck. She wrapped her arms around your shoulders and pressed a kiss to your head. "Emily, that was." You couldn't quite form the words as your nose was still tingling. "Awesome, amazing, perfect, I know." She giggled at her joke and you smiled. "Who would've known badass Unit Chief Prentiss likes to cuddle after sex." She scoffed, "Shut up! I can be soft!" You chuckled, "There's a shirt at the end of the bed if you want it. You can go to sleep, I'll get you up in the morning." You sat up and looked at her, "I'm kind of hungry." She smiled, her eyes wrinkling, "I'll grab you a snack." She left the room and you slipped on the shirt, never leaving the bed.

The playlist you regretted making, just got you the best sex ever.

#criminal minds #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #criminalmindsxreader #emily prentiss smut #smutwithprentiss #very gay

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nolita-fairytale · 1 year ago

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don't you worry, there's still time | chef luca x fem!reader, feat. marcus brooks

summary: after losing his mother, marcus searches for joy and stillness in copenhagen. you and luca, who are more than happy to host, decide to take a big next step in your relationship. a oneshot from the world of 'burn your life down.'

warnings: fluff, light angst, grief, death, light smut, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, off-canon connection to the storyline of the bear.

word count: 5.8k

listen to: the playlist

a/n: wow, i missed this world! who is ready for the reveal of chef's restaurant name?! while i don't think i have the bandwidth to write another full series (nor a linear story to tell) i'm thinking of creating a second part to 'burn your life down' where we just get to drop in and see what they're up to. thoughts??

chef luca masterlist | full masterlist

After a tumultuous holiday season, it doesn’t take long for Sydney to realize that her friend is in need of a little help. A reprieve, she so kindly explained to both Marcus and Carmy when she’d proposed the idea.

It was Sydney this time, who called Luca, knowing that she and Carmy would have to find something to do with Marcus. It wasn’t fair – that he’d lost his mom just before Thanksgiving – and they both agreed that Marcus needed to get out of dodge. Quick to act, Carmy set up a few stages in NYC for a week or so, which, while seemed to inspire Marcus, seemed to only plunge him further into a slump come Christmas. “I don’t know. I think we gotta send him on some kinda… eat, pray, love trip. The guy can only sulk on my couch for so long before I consider jumping out of the window,” Sydney says, her attempt to lighten the mood with humor still genuine. “It’s getting sad, Carm. Like… real fuckin’ sad.”

“You’re right. Uh… what about Copenhagen?” Carmy pitches with a shrug, because he knows what all consuming grief feels like.

“Again?” she asks, uncertain of whether it’s the best choice that they could make.

“Yeah,” Carmy shrugs in response. “Think he got a lot of it last time. Could be good for him to go back to somewhere familiar… work with Luca again. You don’t think it’s a-?”

“No I do! I just-,” Sydney hesitates, though she knows her business partner makes a good point. “Familiarity will be good for him. To be around people he can trust.”

“You want me to uh-,” Carmy begins to offer, figuring he’ll make the call.

“Probably best if I explain the situation. Just ‘cause, you know, I know more of what’s going on… just send me his info and I’ll call later,” Sydney interjects.

Carmy agrees with a curt nod before adding in:

“Uh… okay yeah. Yeah.”

You get plenty of time to prepare for Marcus’ visit, performing all kinds of fancy footwork to arrange a proper visit – a week’s worth of time spent staging and living in Copenhagen. When Luca finds out that the prolific houseboat, a chef retreat of sorts that’s always been an option for lodging, is booked for the week and a half that Marcus plans on visiting, you offer up your place without hesitation.

The arrangement goes as follows: while Marcus stays at yours at no cost, you’ll stay with Luca for the duration of the time.

This is how you find yourself at the massive Ikea on Dybbølsbro on a Saturday morning with Luca, in search of a set of fresh bed linens intended for guests.

“I really should host more. And Astrid said she and Lina were planning a trip out here so… why not kill two birds with one stone?” you’d reasoned to your boyfriend, making a strong case for why you and Luca should make this little shopping trip.

“What do you think of the blue?” Luca asks you, as you run your hand over a set of the display sheets, checking for softness.

“Don’t know if the blue is what I’m going for. I was thinking of something warmer. Maybe a yellow or… I don’t know. I’ve kind of been into that trendy rust color as of late,” you reply with a shrug, moving onto the warmer colors.

Luca chuckles and with a small shake of his head, he clarifies his previous questions with:

“No, I meant for me.”

“What do you mean?” you ask him curiously, his comment pulling all of your focus as you search his face for answers. “You just got new bedding.”

And expensive ones too.

But as your eyes follow his gaze, you realize that he’s not talking about sheets, focused on the XL Twin-sized duvets just above where the sheets messily fall along the shelf.

“I was thinking…” Luca trails off, checking in with you before he continues, with “... maybe it’s time I get two duvets… you know… for us.” He takes a beat, and a step towards you, and you know you’ll never stand a chance against his boyish charm as one side of his mouth turns up into a smile.

You’re no stranger to the Scandinavian duvet method – two twin duvets for one king sized bed – but it sounds like Luca’s suggestion is about way more than buying an extra duvet on this trip.

“I want you to feel at home… at my place."

“I do,” you reply, almost instantly, a warmth spreading through your belly as you take a step towards him.

“But I mean really… feel like it’s your home. Because it is. It could be. You know… if you want it to be,” Luca continues, this time with more insistence, a look of hopefulness in his deep blue eyes.

“Are you… are you asking me to move in with you?” you manage to get out, your heart skipping a beat.

“Why not? We could use this week to try it out,” he suggests so casually that you practically have to do a double take. “See how it goes while Marcus stays at your place?”

“Yeah I-... that sounds like a good plan, yeah,” you stammer out, the grin on your face undeniable as you nod enthusiastically in the middle of a goddamn furniture store.

“Besides,” Luca says, clearing his throat as his tone changes to one that’s much more playful. “You’re an absolute blanket hog and a repeat offender at that.” Luca winks your way as you roll your eyes with a laugh in response. “This could prevent some of our silly little quarrels, don’t you think, love?”

“Uh huh,” you sound, your face skeptical as you look his way again. “Preventative measures. Sure, babe.”

Luca chuckles before leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your lips, right then and there, in the Ikea bed linen section, the place you’ll now forever think of as the place your boyfriend asked you to move in with him.

Connection

When Marcus arrives in Copenhagen, you’ve arranged your home with the most comfort in mind, having already packed a week’s worth of things and left for Luca’s. You can only imagine what he must be going through, deciding that something like that – losing your mother – though inevitable, is your goddamn worst nightmare.

“Marcus,

Enjoy your stay and please reach out if you need anything. I can’t wait to meet you!”

…is the note that you leave him, along with a few morning pastries you picked up from your favorite baggeri across the street, and your number scribbled down at the bottom of the notepad.

As Marcus arrives, his eyes drawn immediately to your note and gift, Marcus smiles to himself, noticing that you left a very nice looking bottle of wine on the counter as well. He’s moved by your generosity, considering you’ve never met, and the fact that you’re willing to take so much care, extend this much kindness to a stranger, causes a wave of softness to wash over him.

Maybe, just maybe, he can find softness again – the last few months riddled with pain, grief, and numbness to get through the days.

While he came here to work, encouraged by his friends that a change of scenery may do his broken heart some good, it’s the first time Marcus has had a chance to be still. His feelings of grief sit heavier here and it catches him off guard, uncertain that he’s quite ready to sit with them yet. He pushes aside the thought, focusing on exploring your home and unpacking his bags. Marcus knows how to stay busy – he’s become an expert at it by now – reminding himself that he’s got work at 5 am sharp tomorrow.

“A little too much, chef. Take it down by about 15 grams,” Luca directs, his voice even and sure as he inspects the balls of dough that Marcus currently shapes.

“Yes, chef,” Marcus nods in understanding, plopping the ball of dough back on the scale to adjust the measurement.

The two of them work like this for the rest of the morning, Luca treading carefully while keeping things professional, while Marcus buries himself in the work – something that feels good, safe, right.

He’s missed this. While Marcus has one chef he works with directly at the restaurant, he’s the expert – the head patissier. He misses being surrounded by excellence, getting to be a student of someone who is just as driven, if not more, and inspired. It’s good, quiet, calm, yet there’s a focus and intensity in Luca’s kitchen that feels like a breath of fresh air.

His stage trip to New York has been more of a mess than beneficial. Maybe it had been the chaos of the city, or the chaos of the chefs he was working with. Maybe it was the fact that Marcus, though hungry for a distraction, hadn’t quite been ready to walk directly into the line of fire yet.

As Marcus’ practiced hands move with the dough, there’s a newfound confidence in the way that he works that's not lost on Luca. Luca watches his friend carefully, pride swelling in his chest as his mentee makes the adjustment with ease and diligence.

“Can I join you?” Luca asks, gesturing towards Marcus' workstation.

“‘Course, chef,” Marcus replies, his response short yet reverent.

As Luca joins him, finding a space to the right of Marcus, he busies his hands with rolling each perfectly measured ball of dough into mini boules, ready to proof. The two of them work quietly, side by side, the air between them heavy with words unsaid. He can feel it – the weight that lays so heavily on Marcus' heart – but Luca doesn’t want to bring it up, uninterested in forcing the conversation. Especially about something so painful, something he knows that Marcus has barely begun working through.

“Thanks, again. For uh… you know… letting me come work,” Marcus begins, momentarily checking in with Luca to gauge a reaction.

“‘Course,” Luca replies, his answer instantaneous. “You’re welcome here any time, mate.”

“Yeah?” Marcus asks, stealing a glance in Luca’s direction.

“Yeah,” Luca responds with a certain nod.

“And uh… shit. I can’t thank your girlfriend enough for letting me crash at her place,” Marcus adds, as he works through his discomfort and overwhelm from the wave of feelings that begin to bubble up in his chest.

“You can thank her yourself on Saturday,” Luca brings up, excited over the fact that Marcus will not only be meeting his girlfriend, but staging at her restaurant too. “She’s really looking forward to meeting you.”

Marcus nods slowly, his hands the only steady thing about him as he continues to focus on his work.

“I just mean-, well, she didn’t have to-. ‘S not like either of you owed it to me or anything and I-. You guys just really came through…” Marcus trails off, wanting to make his gratitude clear. It means more to him that he can articulate so instead he settles for, “So thank you. Again.”

Luca shrugs with an aplomb about him as he returns with, “We got you, mate.” He pauses before continuing, fully aware that Marcus isn’t quite comfortable with the feelings that have presented themself in this moment. “And the way I see it, I wouldn’t have met her if it weren’t for you – for our conversation the last time you were here – so we really do owe you for it.”

This time Luca makes an effort to check in with Marcus, gauging his emotional capacity as he concludes with:

“But that’s not what any of this is about: debts, who owes who what. We were both more than happy to host you. That’s what mates are for.”

It’s not till the end of the next shift that it hits him, and Marcus finds himself sitting outside of the restaurant on a bench across the street. He’s not sure whether it’s the jet lag or the exhaustion of the 5 am start time in another time zone, but it hits him all at once, like a ton of bricks. Suddenly consumed with the feelings that he’s been trying his best to avoid, all he can do is pause, completely caught off guard by the strength of them.

Quietly, Luca joins him, having spotted him on his way home, rerouting himself in Marcus’ direction instead.

All he can think of are the words you’ve asked him, and he you, time and time again – the ones that cut right to the core of you each and every time – that show you how much he cares.

“How’s your heart?” Luca asks Marcus, after a few minutes of sitting on the bench together in silence.

And how is his heart?

He’s not sure how to answer, considering it’s been a while since he’s really had a chance to check in, the crippling reality of this great loss is too much to bear alone.

His heart is broken, shattered into an infinite amount of pieces.

He, and his heart will never be the same again and he doesn’t know where or how he’ll ever put it back together.

His heart is… lost, in desperate need of finding a soft place to land.

Marcus takes a while to answer, racking his brain for any semblance of a cohesive answer.

He waits. And then he waits.

Until finally, he can answer.

“I uh… don’t know. But I’m hoping this trip will help me figure that out.”

Creativity

“do you remember the 21st night of september? love was changin' the minds of pretenders while chasin' the clouds away.” (earth, wind, and fire.)

Everything about the way you run your kitchen feels different than what he’s used to.

It’s sure as hell different from his last stage trip to New York, Marcus thinks to himself.

With Carmy and Syd, working with them, there’s a buzz of chaos that runs underneath even the most organized and efficient service. It’s something integral to what they have, gives an edge to The Bear that seems to make it hum in all the right ways. Even with Luca, who comes from fine dining and Michelin-starred restaurants, there’s a quiet and determined focus – an intensity to his work – even without the undercurrent of chaos.

But this. But you.

Your kitchen somehow teeters the line of organized chaos and reckless play so well that Marcus understands why this works – why it’s efficient.

Still, he watches as you and your staff dance – no, literally dance – around each other to the highly recognizable Earth, Wind, and Fire tune. Mathilde sings along while chopping chives for the brothy mushroom grain bowl, while, mid-phrase, manages to yell out a short command to a line cook in Danish. Out of the corner of his eye, Marcus catches Jesper working the dining room, while you finish plating two more dishes, ready to be walked out.

It’s as if you find focus in the center of all the noise, somewhere between the electric energy between you, Mathilde, and your staff, and the feel-good vibes and homeyness of the restaurant that you’ve created.

You had been more than welcoming when Marcus had walked through the doors of your restaurant, Kokuore, mere hours ago. You’d given him the tour, shown him which station he’d be working this evening, then warmly introduced him to your entire team before family meal started. Marcus can’t stop moving, too afraid to be still in fear of falling apart in the presence of how comforting you’ve been.

And this? Your kitchen. It’s all joy, connection, and artistry.

It’s not hard for him to see why Luca fell in love with you.

“Marcus, feel free to take a break,” he hears you say, as you nod towards the dining room through the open kitchen.

As Marcus follows your gesture, he notices that Luca’s arrived, remembering something about a standing Saturday date.

“You sure, chef?” Marcus asks, looking to you for approval.

“Positive,” you nod, reassuringly.

Marcus nods in return to confirm, before taking his apron off and making his way over to the dining room where Luca is exchanging a few words with Jesper.

“Wassup, chef,” he greets his mentor.

“You know, you can call me Luca,” Luca reminds him with a crooked smile. “At least when we’re off the clock.”

Marcus chuckles, “Uh… yeah alright. That’s gonna take some getting used to.”

Luca chuckles in return, before Jesper shows them to his table, mentioning something about Americans being so afraid of fluidity.

“She’s brilliant isn’t she?” Luca asks, in reference to you as his eyes catch yours from across the room.

“Nah for real. Like… mad scientist vibes,” Marcus concurs with a smile. “She can throw down for sure.” He pauses as they sit down at Luca’s table. “So you come every Saturday night, huh?”

“When I can, yeah, which is… most Saturdays,” Luca replies honestly, before beginning to list why he’s kept up this routine. “But it’s nice. Keeps me inspired. I get to see my girl, walk her home at night which makes me feel better.” Luca leans back in his chair this time, crossing his arms over his chest. “And I never mind helping close down at the end of the night.”

Marcus hums in response before one of the waitstaff comes to their table, with a glass of wine in hand, on the house. They chat for a little longer before Marcus returns to the kitchen, his excitement for what you’re doing here filling him to the brim.

As dinner service comes to an end, Marcus can’t help but notice the chemistry and how unique it is as you all work together in perfect harmony. There’s a warmth to it, something different, and he begins to understand why the name of the restaurant comes from the word, heart.

Luca is quick to get up from his table, quickly finishing his glass of wine as he offers to help close down. The music volume goes from underscoring the buzz of a busy night of service, to the main attraction, as a motown throwbacks playlist begins to blare from the speakers. You all work quickly and efficiently, eager to close down, get home, and begin your weekends, but it’s when an old Otis Redding track that Luca decides to put a pause on the progress.

“Dance with me, my love,” he says, offering his hand out to you as a huge gesture that earns a few looks and giggles from some of your staff.

“Luca,” you begin to protest, looking around.

“You can take three minutes,” he offers, exchanging a look with you this time.

You nod, taking his hand as you agree with, “Okay.”

And as Luca wraps you up in his arms, engaging you in a slow dance to Otis Redding’s “That’s How Strong my Love is,” you chuckle, relaxing into him.

“Oh, get a room, you two!” Jesper calls out after you, teasingly.

“She pretends – always puts up a fight – as if they don’t do this every single week,” Mathilde adds, as an explanation to Marcus.

“Every week?” Marcus asks, a little surprised by both you and Luca’s willingness to pause and revel in a moment with each other, instead of just pushing through.

“Yeah. Romantics, they are,” Jesper chimes in.

Marcus smiles to himself. It’s a reminder of slowness – something he hasn’t let himself experience in a long time – and for just a moment, he lets himself settle into the feeling.

You don’t even mind that you woke up an hour before your alarm the moment you feel Luca’s arms wrapped around you, and his lips against your soft skin. The low rumble of his voice resonates across your shoulders, sending chills down your spine as you arch into his hands, his arms wrapped around you.

“I know we’re only a few days in… of our little trial,” Luca begins, the bass of his voice reverberating through your shoulder blade.

“Our living together trial?” you clarify with your ask, letting out a gasp as he nibbles on your shoulder gently.

“Yeah. Just wonderin’ where your mind’s at,” Luca murmurs, his eager hands beginning to explore underneath the oversized shirt you put on before bed last night.

“Well… I really like this,” you reply, the sound that comes out of your mouth somewhere between a giggle and a moan.

“Hmmmm?” Luca sounds, innocently.

“This… Waking up to you thing.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm.”

Luca’s name escapes your lips as his fingers gently begin to play with your nipples, his erection hard against your back as you begin to grind your hips back against.

“And the access to round the clock sex is really a bonus,” you sigh, blissfully.

“Oh yeah?” he asks you again, a large tatted hand slipping between your legs.

“Yeah… I’d even be… interested in leaning into that part… right now,” you hiss in reply to his touch. “Considering you’re distracting me with sex.”

“Hmmmmm. ‘S not just it, love. Have I told you how grateful I am for what you’ve done for Marcus?” Luca asks, his mouth back on your neck. He presses your body against him, your back to his chest as he rocks his hips against yours.

“Luca!” you protest, unable to focus on the conversation.

“It’s your kindness. Your heart… I’m in awe of it,” he continues to praise you as the two of you begin to set a rhythm between your bodies.

It’s all heat, and soft sighs of pleasure, and foreplay.

“Well, I know a little something about what he’s going through,” you answer breathlessly. You begin to impatiently push the hem of your shirt higher so that you can give Luca more access to your body.

“That’s why I love you,” Luca murmurs into your skin, his hands all over you, his focus unbroken and your mind beginning to go blank. His hands are tearing your shirt over your head as he continues to praise you. “Your heart, the way you share it.”

“You helped me get there, baby,” you gasp, turning your head so that you can kiss your boyfriend.

Instead of answering, Luca nods knowingly, before crashing his lips into yours. His mouth on yours feels like heaven, and you can’t believe that you ever fought your feelings for him.

“Ah fuck it. Let’s do it. Let’s move in together,” you surrender to him, lost in the moment.

“Yeah?” Luca pauses, pulling away, as if almost can’t believe what he’s hearing.

“Yeah. I mean it, baby,” you nod, catching his gaze, certain in the way you answer. “I wanna wake up to you every morning.”

“Me too, my love,” Luca grins, before pressing his lips to yours again. “Now will you please let me fuck you, darling?”

“Fuck yes.”

Luca spends the next hour showing you just how grateful he is for you, while you in return, spend the next hour showing him just how sure you are about this decision.

And you are sure. If mornings like this are a constant for the rest of your life, you think you’ll die a happy woman.

You’ve found a home in him, and he, you. He’s the person you want to come home to at the end of the day. He’s the man that puts a smile on your face every single time he gets on his soapbox about how Beyonce is the performer of your lifetimes, and he is unequivocally the best, most unexpected thing in your life.

Luca Davies, in almost a year of knowing him, and eight months of getting to love him, has somehow become your favorite person.

By the time you and Luca are both showered and decent-for-company, you’ve begun your mise en place for brunch, completely content with the fact that you’re running a little behind schedule (and in all fairness, the sex was worth it – it’s always worth it). The smell of bacon sizzling away on your carbon steel fry pan fills the entire apartment, and you’re glad that Luca opened a window earlier. It’s not exactly window weather yet, but the air ventilation is a must when it comes to smoked meats.

While you play catch up with your brunch plan, Luca’s busy welcoming Marcus in, pouring him a cup of coffee using the extensive ten-step pour over he’s been fixated on ever since he purchased it, while they chat here and there about what else he’s explored in Denmark.

“Been too busy working, to be honest but… I don’t know. I might wander around today… see what kind of stuff I can get into,” Marcus answers frankly with a shrug.

“Ah, mate. We just had a walk at the Frederiksberg Gardens. Definitely something I’d recommend checking out,” Luca suggests, his eyes lighting up with excitement as he mentions it.

Luca continues moving through his list of recommendations, Marcus chiming in with places and things he did the last time he was here, excited to spend a few days exploring the city instead of just working.

“Wanderin’ around. I dunno. There’s something about it. ‘S good for the spirit, you know?” Luca concludes.

“Yeah,” Marcus nods in agreement, before turning his attention over to the French toast you’re working on. “Okay, I see you. What is that? Mascarpone?”

“Yeah, good eye. It’s just something new I’m working on: a mascarpone stuffed french toast. We’re actually talking about extending our hours… maybe doing weekend brunch,” you answer thoroughly, as you dip the stuffed pieces of bread into their egg batter, pre-cook.

“For real? That’s sick,” Marcus compliments, watching you carefully. “I mean… shit. You could have a whole brunch spot.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, looking up from your cutting board.

“A Brunch spot,” Marcus repeats, simply, the excitement in his eyes at the new idea, evident. “Yeah, you know. Luca could do the morning pastries. You work your magic on the rest of the menu.”

“That’s a novel idea! What do you think, my love?” Luca asks, intrigue in his voice as he searches your face for a reaction.

“I-,” you begin, looking from Luca to Marcus, then back to Luca again. “I… never thought about it like that.” You take a beat, eyeing Luca carefully. “We’ve never talked about going into business together.”

Marcus shrugs, before picking up his coffee mug, “Yo, it’s just a thought. I think you two would be unstoppable together.”

“Unstoppable, eh?” Luca asks, his eyes locked with yours.

You only hum in response, raising a quirked eyebrow in Luca’s direction before adding:

“It’s certainly one hell of an idea, Marcus.”

Kokuore

Monday afternoon, you find yourself at your restaurant with Marcus Brooks, on a day off.

“I might need a little extra help with something tomorrow. We’re closed tomorrow, but I want to get ahead on this special I’m working on. Could use the help of a pastry chef. What do you say?” you’d proposed to him, over one more espresso before he left.

To Luca’s dismay, (“ you silly Americans just can’t enjoy a day of doing nothing,” he’d teased the two of you) Marcus had given you an unwavering yes, reassuring you that he was down to learn everything he possibly could from you, especially while he was here.

And it’s true. You do need the help. But should he want someone to talk to – someone who gets it, even just a little bit – you want to offer him the space and the opportunity to do so.

“As a patissier, do you get tasked with pasta? At The Bear?” you ask Marcus, as you pleat a dumpling in hand with a speed that only comes with practice.

“Nah,” Marcus sounds, his focus on the dumpling he’s pleating too. His concentration on getting the pleats right is reverent and unbroken, even as he answers your question. “Our head chef, Carmy, he uh… he comes from an Italian American family so when we’ve done a stuffed pasta… he usually takes the lead on that.”

You nod in understanding, placing the dumpling you’ve just finished down on the full-sized sheet pan. The two of you sit across from each other, having pushed a few dining tables together as a makeshift workstation.

“Think Luca’ll take over this kinda stuff when you guys open a restaurant together?” Marcus asks, lightheartedly pushing his agenda from yesterday.

You laugh in response, your hands working quickly on yet another dumpling.

“For someone with no skin in the game, you’re really insistent on this idea,” you tease him in return.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it,” Marcus pushes right back, his tone still light.

“I…” you sigh, trailing off as you pause your work for a moment. “You know, we just said we’d move in together. That and a restaurant? Feels fast.”

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Like… a few hours before you came over for brunch,” you elaborate, earning a whistle from Marcus. The two of you exchange a look, and a laugh, as you pick up another dumpling wrapper that you and Marcus rolled out together earlier.

“It’s a good idea though,” you add, stealing a glance his way so that he knows that you’re serious.

“Well, when you two inevitably do open a restaurant… I want ten percent,” Marcus jokes, earning another laugh from you.

“Deal,” you agree with him.

You and Marcus work like this, exchanging a few words, the conversation light, underscored by a softer acoustic soundtrack from one of your Spotify radio stations.

“So how’d you learn to cook like this?” Marcus asks you curiously.

“Uh…” you hesitate, treading carefully as you realize this conversation could open a can of worms.

“I don’t know how much Luca’s told you about me… but I was married… before him,” you begin, cautiously. “And… well, I learned a lot of this… a lot of traditional Japanese cooking from my mother-in-law.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. These are her dumplings actually – her recipe. She passed away last Fall and… well, it was important to me to celebrate her – to celebrate her life – by creating a few dishes for her,” you continue, and it’s as if all of the air has been sucked out of the room. “We’re bringing this one back as a special this month but um… yeah. I’m… still very much grieving and… it helps me remember her. Cooking her food helps me feel close to her, you know?”

“Yeah,” Marcus sighs, his heart heavy as he exhales.

He waits a beat.

And then another, having paused his work as he watches you pleat, head down, with expert hands.

The silence between you and Marcus is full, heavy, connected by shared experience. You wait for Marcus to say something, and when he doesn’t, you decide to continue.

“This restaurant… has so much of my heart in it: it’s got my love for Italian food from growing up in my best friend’s family’s restaurant, and it’s got my love for her – for Aiko – and everything she taught me,” you begin to explain. “And lately… it’s got a fresh perspective… inspired by the love I have with Luca, I think. Well, I know. Inspired by him… how this place brought us together.”

“The name itself is… totally made up, but means a lot to me. The Japanese word for heart is, kokoro, and the Italian word for heart is, cuore. Somehow an homage to my past… and was… Prophetic in so many ways too.”

As Marcus listens, Luca’s previous question lingers in his head:

How’s your heart?

At the time he didn’t know how to answer, and after five days in Copenhagen – after five days of doing what he loves in a place that he loves – his heart is somehow so full, yet so broken all at once. He’s filled with deep sorrow and with the spark of creativity all at the same time, and he’s just not sure how to hold all of this feeling inside of him.

Marcus waits a beat, opens his mouth, then lets the words fall out.

“It’s evident. In your food,” is all he manages to say. “It’s got soul. It’s got heart. I-, it’s inspiring. That’s for sure.”

“I made a dish. For Michael,” Marcus adds, his eyes on the dumpling he works on, but the guard on his heart beginning to fall away. “He was uh… well, he was the old owner of the restaurant, called The Beef back then. Carmy took over after he died. Felt right to honor him and his life, you know? When we reopened as The Bear.”

“Food is… it’s our art, you know?” you agree. “Sometimes it’s the only way I know how to express myself and… sometimes it’s just the thing that makes sense.”

“Yeah.”

A beat.

“Maybe one day I can make one for my mom,” Marcus says, his voice stuck in his throat as he admits, “I don’t know if I’m ready yet. But I think… I think I’d like to eventually.”

“Of course,” you reassure him gently. “You don’t have to be ready now. You don’t have to be ready ever. But when you are, your art will always be there.”

“Thanks,” Marcus nods solemnly.

You get up this time, realizing the sheet pan is full, and ready to be placed on the baker’s rack. As you return to the table with a new empty sheet pan, lined with parchment paper, Marcus finally asks you, his eyes soft, the heartbreak in them present.

“How’d you get through? You know. Losing her? Your mother-in-law?”

You return to your chair with a heavy sigh.

“I’ll let you know when I do,” you answer, letting up a soft chuckle. “It helps to have good people and… from what Luca’s told me, you do. But… I had to let ‘em in, let ‘em help me. Let ‘em love me. And in all honesty, most days I’m still just… taking it day by day.”

“Yeah, I-. I do. I got some really good people. Back home,” Marcus drags out slowly.

“Then that’s all that matters. Your people and your heart. The rest… you just-,” you start.

“Take day by day?” Marcus interjects, pausing to catch your eyes.

You and Marcus exchange a knowing look, the recognition of each others’ pain is met with empathy.

“Yeah. I think that's all we can do.”

By the end of your work session with Marcus, you’re ready to head home so that you can spend the rest of the day with Luca.

“What’re you gonna do with the rest of your day?” you ask Marcus, curiously.

With a sigh, and then a shrug, and a heart that feels just a little lighter, he answers with:

“Think I might wander around a bit. Someone once told me it’s good for the spirit.”

#chef luca #will poulter #luca the bear #the bear season 2 #the bear headcanon #luca x reader #the bear hulu #the bear fx #the bear fanfiction #chef luca x reader #pastry chef luca #burn your life down

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vimbry · 7 months ago

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*if you've heard a couple songs but don't really know much about them, or haven't listened in a long while, you can play!

update: the highest votes went to gudetama. but was it correct? here are the full titles and albums.

❌ "put your hand inside the puppet head" - they might be giants

the opening verse makes reference to leaving one's job and how "it's sad to say, you will romanticise all the things you've known before. it was not, not, not so great". according to flansburgh, "the lyric revolves around the idea that looking back on anything colors it in sentimentality".

❌ "I'll sink manhattan" - they'll need a crane (ep)/miscellaneous T

this is a flansburgh song, but linnell explained its meaning in a 1989 interview with NME as "a song about a guy who somehow figures out how to sink the island of manhattan just to kill his ex-lover, so it's his apology to the other people he's gonna kill in between. he's just gotta do it!"

❌ "meet james ensor" - john henry

it's about james ensor (belgium's famous painter).

❌ "wicked little critta" - mink car

from the tmbg unlimited collection: "forged in the crucible of an eastern massachusetts junior high, this song expresses the dreams, fears and hopes of a new england young adult" the lyrics seem to suggest said young adult fantasising about being a sports star alongside bobby orr and john havlicek while goofing off outside.

❌ "working undercover for the man" - mink car

from flansburgh: "it's more a meditation on the "mod squad" [a 1968 crime series about cool undercover detectives] than anything else. the idea of the narc just seems... like, those episodes of "dragnet" where they have the young undercover dress in a hippie suit."

✔️ "talent is an asset" - kimono my house

the lyrics illustrate an overly-cautious family shielding their very gifted child from others, to keep him studious and soak in all the glory, and is heavily implied to be little albert einstein through puns on relatives and relativity. it's not by them, tho. it's by the band sparks. it came 2nd, so I think many of you recognised it (or really wanted to see the results!)

❌ "bee of the bird of the moth" - the else

"this is a song about a creature called a hummingbird moth, which imitates another creature, which imitates yet another creature. it's completely fucked up, and can only be explained in song!" so they did.

❌ "2082" - join us

thewrap's review of the album describes this song as, "a science-fiction short story (...) a protagonist who travels into the future, finds himself hobbled but still unhappily alive all the way into the next millennium, and travels back to the title year to smother himself with a pillow in a mercy killing". fun!

❌ "call you mom" - nanobots

referred to by linnell as an "oedipus pan" song, the lyrics follow an unfortunate young man beginning a relationship with a woman, getting dumped due to his behaviour of treating her like a mother figure, then infantilising a possibly younger woman in a different relationship and in turn leaving her, who goes on to experience the same issues. fun! (altho, the final chorus actually still refers to her Mom leaving, not her dad, I got the details wrong there in the poll).

❌ "gudetama's busy days" - dial-a-song / my murdered remains

yes, that's a real song. quote flansburgh: "(...) it is really just about feeling isolated from the world, even if you are in a crowded place and manically trying to keep up with your life. the character of gudetama appealed to me because he is such a mopey sad sack."

❌ "marty beller mask" - album raises new and troubling questions

this is real, too! it's just about how marty beller was actually an alter ego of whitney houston the whole time. he's not, but wouldn't that be interesting. the song name-checks multiple of her own in the lyrics. it was temporarily retired out of respect following houston's death (4 months after its release), returning to live performances ten years later in 2022.

#I know this minor detail might make one obvious but I can't let it slide!#sorry everyone. would you kindly delete any old versions and pass it around again. <3 #tmbg

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gremlinmodetweeker · 23 days ago

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König's Haunted House Disaster

Inspired by @machveil 's post HERE and my little blorbo of König punching out recruits HERE, I figured that for the day before Halloween I should write about just what exactly went down on the night Horangi, Hutch and Askel took König to a haunted house.

Art from This Post

12:00 - Ten Hours Before the Ban

"Hey König! You gotta check this out!" Horangi called across the cafeteria, enthusiastically waving his phone as he jogged over.

König, already tired of what Horangi was about to say, simply grunted when the Korean man slid into the seat beside him. He tried his best to convey just how tired he was, but it was to no avail as Horangi eagerly crowded into his personal space to show him his crack phone screen.

"You really should get that replaced," König grumbled as Horangi shuffled closer.

"You sound like my Mom," Horangi commented before pressing play on the video.

König winced at the volume as Horangi hurriedly turned it down with a whispered 'Sorry!'.

"You really are a useless-"

"Look!" Horangi jammed his finger at a small sign in the video.

König leaned in and squinted.

"Horangi, my eyes are good but they're not that good. Can you just tell me what it says?"

"This place is near our base!" Horangi explained, "let's get a few guys and we'll go!"

"You want to go to a... A scary house?" König asked curiously.

"A haunted house König," Horangi sniffed, "seriously you moved from Germany over ten years ago and you still don't know what a haunted house is?"

König huffed, "My mind blanked. I know what they are."

"Yeah sure, keep telling yourself that," Horangi drawled before switching tabs to get to a poorly formatted website, "now look, tickets are cheap here. It's only five euros to get in!"

For a moment, König's eyes sparkled.

"Only five euros?" he muttered, "that's not too bad... I could be convinced."

"If we go to the shwarma place fist would that help?"

"... Maybe."

"Alright I'll tell Hutch," Horangi swung his legs from out of the bench.

König watched, slightly stunned, as Horangi swaggered away to the other cafeteria.

"Aren't you going to have lunch with me?" König asked.

Horangi turned to look over his shoulder and scoffed, "Nah, I've got shit to do. I wanna go, but if we don't get enough of a crowd it's just not worth it."

König narrowed his eyes, "Was I only asked to boost numbers?"

Horangi shrugged, "Why are you worried?"

"Don't you consider me a friend?" König asked bitterly.

"Yeah," Horangi said, "but you always push the chair back in the car until it hits my knees."

"Then drive," König stated.

"I don't need you on my case too," Horangi grumbled and walked away, leaving König to sit with an empty tray in front of him.

He glared at the gleaming steel.

"Did I really eat it all that fast?"

17:00 - Five Hours Before the Ban

Hutch took a long swig of water before dropping his arm to his lap. He waved at König fondly, "Hey there."

König waved back curtly and picked up a dumbbell before sitting on a bench and starting his bicep curls.

"You doing another set?" Hutch asked.

"Why not?" König shrugged.

"That's what I keep telling myself, but then I strain something," Hutch laughed, "you best watch yourself old man."

"I am not old!" König grumbled, "I only just turned thirty a month ago."

"You're in your thirties. You're old," Hutch smirked.

"You're what, twenty-nine?" König huffed.

"Twenty-seven and eleven months, thank you," Hutch replied.

"Oh so you'll be old soon enough," König snorted.

Hutch shook his head and wiped a blue towel over her forehead, "Nah, once I hit thirty then thirty-five is old."

"Oh," König rolled his eyes, "I see. So I won't be old for long."

"Did I say thirty-five? I meant thirty-one" Hutch took another sip of water.

"You're worse than Horangi," König puffed as he neared the end of his rep.

"König," Hutch glared down his nose at the bigger man, "nobody's as bad as Horangi."

König put the dumbbell by his feet and set his timer before he admitted, "Maybe not."

"Speaking of Horangi though," Hutch started stretching his arms over his chest, "I heard that he invited you to come out with us?"

"Word really does go around fast here," König muttered.

"When it's with Horangi? Sure does. But seriously man," Hutch eased into a good stretch, "are you coming?"

König drummed his fingers on his thigh as he felt his heart rate relax. He turned his head from side to side and then said, "Why not. I don't have anything else to do."

"Then I guess we got you on a good day," Hutch smiled.

"'We'? I thought this was a Horangi thing," König glanced over at his friend.

"Well, I gave Horangi the idea, but he was the one who really made it happen," Hutch explained, "I was hoping we might schedule something for next week or whatever, but Horangi's too impulsive to wait."

"Strange. When we were out in Iraq I saw him line up a shot for three hours," König shook his head, "but that man works in weird ways. I don't think I'll ever understand him."

"Funny, 'cause he says the same things about you," Hutch commented.

König was about to say something when his timer went off.

"Another rep, big guy?"

König nodded and picked up the dumbbell again, "Always another."

20 :00 - Two Hours Until the Ban

"Oh my God this is so good."

"See? I told you it would be."

"Okay but I saw you flicking mould off a peach last week," Horangi rolled his eyes as he stuffed another forkful of shwarma in his mouth, "your definition of 'good' is fucked."

König bristled as Hutch and Aksel laughed quietly behind him. He glared at the two, but it only served to worse Aksel's giggling.

"It was just a tiny bit," he explained.

"It was not a tiny bit," Aksel snickered, "that was the peach that Stiletto forgot in her locker."

König paled, "Was it really?"

"Yeah?" Aksel shook his head mirthfully, "I mean, it was set out on the counter for a reason."

"I thought..." König trailed off as he turned to glare at his hands.

"Whatever you thought," Hutch interjected, "it was just stupid. Like come on man, it was smellin' and everything!"

König wrinkled his nose, "I don't think it smelled that bad."

"You know you nearly gave Stiletto a heart attack," Horangi added on.

König smiled beneath his hood, "Well, I suppose I'll have to tell her I'm sorry."

"Oh cut the crap," Horangi gruffed, "you just wish you saw her face too."

König nodded from side to side as the others laughed.

It wasn't often that the men could get off base for a bit, but by pulling König's rank card (Horangi swore that wasn't the reason he was invited) and explaining a few things away, they managed to be able to get some time out to look around and enjoy the city. It took about an hour to drive to the shwarma shop, but at least it seemed to be a hit with the whole team. König was glad to at least provide something to the trip. He hated to admit it, but even then he was anxious about appearing good enough for his team.

"So," Horangi put his plastic fork down, "In about fifteen minutes, what do you guys think about heading out to the haunt?"

"Fine by me," Aksel nodded as Hutch swallowed a bite of his wrap, nodding in agreement.

"Alright. König? You cool with that?" Horangi turned to look at the tall Austrian.

"Should be fine," König nodded, "I mean, it might be a bit late, but..."

"We'll be fine," Hutch shut him down quickly, "don't worry about it man."

"I mean, it's just it's a long drive, and-"

"König! If the numbers guy says it'll be fine, then it'll be fine," Aksel sighed.

Horangi patted his shoulder, "Trust us. It'll be fine."

König sighed and relaxed into the seat. He didn't trust them, not in the slightest, but the least he could do was pretend.

21:00 - One Hour Until the Ban

The group of four man stood outside the farmhouse, looking up and down at the dilapidated building. Fog rolled from the windows with winding screams into the night. Occasionally, a bright red flash would come from the top left window. Cheap cobwebs were woven over the ground, littered with tiny plastic spiders that glowed in the green light coming from the front porch.

"You gettin' scared at all?" Horangi grinned as he looked between the others.

"Pft, it looks cheap," Aksel crossed his arms, "saw way better when I was a kid."

"I think that's positivity bias there, Aksel," König muttered, earning himself a short nod from Hutch.

"I think we might've wasted our time honestly," Hutch frowned as he gave the building another once-over.

"Oh come on," Horangi groaned, "we haven't even been inside. It might be a lot of fun!"

"Fun?" Askel shook his head and tutted condescendingly, "in this place? I doubt it."

Hutch glared at the offending building behind a pair of sunglasses.

"The website made it look so much better," Hutch complained bitterly as he squared his shoulders back.

Watching Horangi's face fall, König couldn't help but kick himself for being so negative to the place. Without another word, he put a hand on Horangi's shoulder and cocked his head to the side.

"Maybe it might be better on the inside, don't you think?" he offered his friend.

Horangi smiled back brightly, "See! König has the right idea!"

König shrivelled under the judgmental glare of the others. He hated how they looked almost disappointing in him for trying to stand up for Horangi. Really, even if the haunt was just for kids, what was the harm in having fun with it?

"Well hey, they say there's only groups of two here," Horangi pointed at a poorly painted sign, "so I'll go with König and you two buzzkills go with each other."

Aksel rolled his eyes, but threw an arm around the taller man to his left, "Alright, looks like we're together."

"Get your arm off of me," Hutch grumbled.

Not keen to be dragged down by the others, König decided to follow Horangi to the front steps of the home.

Strangely, as König drew closer, he couldn't help but feel that age-old familiar tingle in his chest. Something about the house set him on edge. He didn't want to admit it, but the house certainly unnerved him. He had the feeling something horribly dreadful waited for him inside.

"You know, now that the other two are gone, I'm really digging the vibes here," Horangi elbowed König lightly.

"Ja," König replied stiffly, "it is different without them."

Horangi looked up at his friend skeptically. After observing him carefully, a sly smile slid across Horangi's face.

"Getting a bit spooked, big guy?" Horangi asked.

König snorted, "No, of course not."

"Sure," Horangi drawled, "whatever you say."

König turned to glare, but they were already being called up.

As he stepped up to the ticket taker, he noticed the man turning to an actor and whispering. He tried to ignore how they both seemed to focus more on him than Horangi before the smaller scare actor was shooed off.

As they walked into the house, Horangi worsened his fears when he blithely commented, "They really seemed to be looking at you back there. I wonder why."

König felt positively dreadful.

21:30 - Half an Hour Until the Ban

König looked around him nervously. About five minutes ago, Horangi had disappeared from his side. He could hardly believe it. One minute Horangi was chatting away and the next he was gone. He didn't even really know when he lost the man, he'd long-since tuned out his rambling. Now, he wished he were paying more attention.

Now that he was alone, König couldn't help but notice all the sounds more. The screams pressed on his ears as the rattling of chains snaked through his feet. Sometimes he swore he heard someone panting in his ear, but when he turned there was only the low green light guiding him forwards.

With each step he took, he felt like he was passing through thick webs. Occasionally, thick tarps would block his vision and he'd have to push forward. He tried his best to not let his heart rate spike, but something had him on edge.

A part of him was kicking himself for being in any way, shape or form affected by the house. It was just a haunted house, it was all fake. He'd seen real horror, so why did this get to him? What was it that had his skin crawling?

He didn't know but it just kept getting worse.

König pushed past a curtain of rusted chains to enter what looked like the remnants of a kitchen. In the strobing red lights, he could see blood splatters cake the walls. The shine of metal on the walls clued him in to the knives wallpapering the room. His knees felt weak when he finally noticed the centre of the room.

There, lying down strapped to the dining room, a woman watched him with bright white eyes.

König couldn't help himself as he dashed into the next room.

Those eyes, bright white, staring directly at him, they petrified him like no other. He felt them boring into him, even as he left. He spared a glance behind him and nearly collapsed when he saw the woman turn her head 180 degrees to follow him.

He slammed the next door shut behind him, swallowing him in darkness.

21:45 - Fifteen Minutes Until the Ban

König panted as he slumped against the door. He held his chest tightly, welcoming the darkness around him. Finally he could get away from those eyes. In this darkness, nobody could ever see him.

König closed his eyes and sighed.

When he opened them, a small candle lit the room, revealing the contents to him for the first time.

When he looked around, he wanted to scream.

Mirrors. There were mirrors everywhere. Some as big as him, some smaller than his thumbnail. Ton and tons of mirrors all glinting back at him.

He could see his form slowly distorting in the candlelight. Old memories rushed through him and he trampled forth, knocking down a couple of mirrors in the process and shattering them on the ground.

21:50 - Ten minutes Until the Ban

König ran until he collided into a wall and stumbled back. Now in the low red lights he could see everything around him.

From the room of mirrors he'd walked into a small pioneer classroom. To his horror, every single pair of eyes was on him. He tried walking one way, and the 'students' turned their heads. He walked the other way and they followed him. He glanced around in widening horror as he realized the only exit was at the back of the room.

Without another thought, he pushed forth.

21:55 - Five Minutes Until the Ban

König didn't know why he ever agreed to come here. This place was nothing but a house of torture. He wanted to scream, he wanted to cry, he wanted to do anything he could to escape. Any exit he saw only took him further and further into the maze.

How was a small farmhouse so big? It felt endless in here. Each turn brought him new horrors, new eyes staring at him. He tried to get away, but he could feel their eyes on him constantly, watching him run, watching him stumble, watching him as he desperately tried to find an escape.

He barely took in his surroundings as he charged through the building. He could hear something being shouted, could hear footsteps crashing down behind him but he just kept pushing forth. He needed to do anything he could to get away. He could feel his throat tightening and his heart pounding as he ripped down a curtain to get by.

He stumbled through into another black room and felt himself shut down.

21:58 - Two Minutes Until the Ban

The room was silent. Nothing from the outside came in. It was cold, terribly cold. Never had he been so cold. Why was he so cold?

He heard a door unlock, and footsteps step in.

21:59 - One Minute Until the Ban

"Uh, hello?" he heard a quiet voice, "um, is anyone in here?"

A bright flashlight turned on in his face, momentarily blinding him.

König didn't think as he punched into the light. He only heard a squawk and a curse as the light dropped down to the ground. He stumbled back and all the lights turned on.

22:00 - THE BAN

"Dude!" he looked down to find a straggly teen.

"Shit he got Johann," a woman yelled out.

"I told you this was a bad idea," a man grunted as he stepped forth and hauled the teen up to his feet. He gave König a sharp glare and jabbed a finger in his direction.

"Me?" König could feel the panic draining from his system.

"You! Go follow her and get out of here," the man yelled.

König didn't need to be told twice. He quickly found the tiny purple-haired woman and scurried to her side. She eyed him with disgust.

"Seriously dude, that wasn't cool," she sighed, "like, I know we're an extreme haunt, but you can't punch the actors. That's like, the number one rule here."

"Ah, sorry," König muttered weakly.

"Your friend is outside waiting for you," she grumbled as she led him through the back, "I told the guys not to push you too far, but they just wanted to scare the big guy and I guess they went too far. Still," she opened the final door, "you're banned from the haunt. Permanently."

"Why?" König asked meekly as he stepped by.

"You punched the actors dude," she glared at him, "number. One. Rule."

With that she slammed the door in his face, leaving him to join Horangi outside.

Horangi only had to take one look at his friend to figure out what had happened.

"You punched an actor?" he crossed his arms over his chest, "that's like, the number one rule."

"I panicked," König explained weakly.

"You? You panicked?" Horangi frowned, "what the hell did they do to you?"

König shook his head as he leaned over, "Eyes. So many eyes."

"Eyes?"

"And mirrors."

"And mirrors!? König, what sorta haunt did you go to?" Horangi quizzed him, "I just got led around a haunted barnyard!"

"After they split us up," König sucked in another breath, "it was... I didn't think that it would be that bad." Horangi scrunched his eyebrows together, but thankfully only clapped a hand on his back and helped push his friend forward, "Alright, well, I saw some sorta candy place. Looked like dragonsbreath, so I wanted to check it out. Wanna come with?"

König wheezed.

"I'll take that as a yes," Horangi shrugged and dragged König over to the cotton candy vendor.

Konig Dump

Konig Regular Fanfics

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