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allhandsonhotch · 2 months ago

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Yes, Coach! | A.H

pairing: married!soccer mom!reader! x soccer coach! hotch

warnings: reader is married.. her husband sucks tho! i hate my husband final boss. mentions of cheating, comparing incompetent husband to hotch? mentions of what shitty fathers do to their daughters. daddy issues in kids. pre relationship pining (if you close one eye and squint) reader wants hotch bad. i think that’s all? lmk if i missed anything! not proofread bc im lazy.

word count: idk this is so long tho

The early morning sun beamed on your face as you dragged your husband through the soccer field.

Your daughter Luci clinging to your other hand as she happily skipped towards her team, oblivious to the tension between her parents.

Brian— your husband was a pity excuse for a man in your opinion, he thought the world turned because he spun it— he thought he painted the stars with his ass and he couldn’t be a worse father if he tried. You practically had to force him off of the computer to get him here and he complained the whole way there.

You’d gotten into a fight that morning as well, you caught him talking to his secretary in a way that went far beyond professional and you (reasonably) had called him out on it.

Brian never cared though— he always thought you didn’t have the courage to find better yet every time he threw cash at you to get you off his back— you pocketed it in hopes of collecting enough to take Luci and leave him.

He was a lawyer, a very well off one and when you asked to have a job he’d told you no. Plain and simple he just said no. Of course it wasn’t his call but you were just 22 at the time, he was 45 you just assumed he’d had a reason to want it that way but as you grew up you realized it was nothing but an excuse to keep you helpless.

You set up one of the folding chairs you’d been forced to carry by yourself, feeling eyes on you from afar. “Sit here— im gonna take her to her team.” You spat, damn near shoving him into the chair and walking her over to her team. As you approached the team, you raised your sunglasses to rest on the top of your head, making direct eye contact with him.

Aaron Hotchner.

In all of his coaching glory.

When you couldn’t get Brian to coach Luci’s team, he had— alongside his colleague David, who you now knew as a famous author/ FBI agent.

His son Jack was Luci’s age, they went to the same school and you knew enough about him to know just how many people felt the same way you do.

He was your favorite fantasy. In your head he was perfect— a real man. He had everything Brian didn’t. He was a good dad— enjoyed helping out and he even brought the half time snacks.

“Luci! How are we feeling today?” Aaron’s enthusiastic voice boomed, once you stepped up to him. Luci giggled and wrapped her arms around his leg, your apologetic smile earning a chuckle from him. “I wanna play!” Luci cheered before running off to run drills with Jack and the other kids who’d gotten there early.

“How are you feeling today coach?” You chirped, which made Aaron roll his eyes. “Like it’s 7 am and I cannot wait for this to be over..” He said, his voice stoic. “Of course it’s Mr. FBI who gets stuck coaching little kids soccer..”

That made him grin, his tired eyes meeting yours once again. “Well it’s not like anyone else wanted to..” He chuckled, his gaze flickering over to Brian who was most likely texting his secretary.

“I could barely even get him here..” She groaned. That got his attention and his gaze snapped from Dave over to you.

Aaron’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, but you caught it. He had that way about him—quiet, observant, always noticing the things people tried to hide. His eyes flickered back to Brian, who was still glued to his phone, oblivious to the way his wife stood here, exhausted and exasperated, practically begging for someone to just see her.

“He doesn’t seem very invested,” Aaron said carefully, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

You huffed a humorless laugh. “Brian’s only invested in himself and his barely legal secretary.”

Aaron didn’t reply right away. He just studied you, as if trying to decide how far he could push before he overstepped. He must have settled on just enough, because his voice was softer when he finally spoke.

“You deserve better than that.”

Something about the way he said it made your throat tighten. Maybe it was the certainty in his voice, like it wasn’t just an empty platitude but a fact—one that he believed, even when you struggled to.

You forced a smile, shifting your weight uncomfortably. “Yeah, well… I can’t exactly afford to leave him— not yet anyways.”

Aaron’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, like he wanted to say something else. But before he could, Luci called out to you from across the field, waving wildly.

“Mommy, look!”

You turned just in time to see her send the ball flying into the net, her little face lighting up with pride. You laughed, clapping your hands. “Great job, baby!”

Aaron smiled at her enthusiasm, then looked back at you. “She’s got a good support system. That counts for a lot.”

You swallowed hard. You weren’t sure if he meant Luci or you. But either way, the weight of his words settled deep in your chest.

It was then that you wondered if maybe—just maybe—someone did see you.

You smirked, tilting your head as you let your sunglasses slide back down over your eyes, shielding the way they lingered on him. “You think so, Coach? That sounds a lot like a compliment.”

Aaron huffed a small chuckle, shaking his head as he crossed his arms. “Just stating the truth.”

“Well,” you drawled, shifting your weight onto one leg and allowing your hip to jut out just slightly, “I don’t hear it very often. So maybe you should keep talking.”

His eyes flickered to you, then briefly over to Brian—who was still hunched over his phone, completely uninterested in his own daughter.

“You’re married,” he reminded you, voice low but firm.

You let out a breathy laugh, tapping a manicured nail against your chin. “Legally, yeah. Happily? That’s debatable.”

Aaron’s jaw tightened. You could tell he was trying to stay neutral, but you saw the way his fingers flexed against his arms, like he was holding something back.

“Still,” he said, meeting your gaze, “It’s a line I don’t cross.”

You stepped closer—just enough that he’d notice, but not enough to cause a scene. “You ever think about it, though?”

His eyes darkened, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. He didn’t answer right away, but the silence between you was heavy, charged. You knew he was fighting something—whether it was you or himself, you weren’t sure.

Finally, he exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head as if to clear it. “You should go sit down,” he muttered, nodding toward the field.

You grinned, leaning in just slightly before you turned on your heel. “Sure thing, Coach.”

As you walked away, you swore you could feel his eyes on you. And that? That was a win.

After a little while of watching the game you decided to move your chair closer to where Aaron was so you could watch Luci better and get away from your no good husband who hadn’t even acknowledged that you were back.

The second half of the game started, and for a while, you let yourself actually enjoy watching Luci play. She was fast—small but determined, her little legs carrying her across the field with everything she had. You caught Aaron watching her with something close to admiration, his arms crossed as he called out encouragements.

Then came the moment that made your heart swell. Luci went for the ball, trying to pass it to Jack, but another kid bumped into her, knocking her down. It wasn’t a hard fall, but she sat there for a second, fear written all over her face.

Before you could even react, Aaron was already moving.

He crouched beside her, his voice gentle but firm. “You okay, kiddo?”

Luci pouted, looking down at her scraped knee. “I fell.”

Aaron smiled, reaching out to brush a stray curl from her forehead. “Yeah, but you’re tough, aren’t you?”

She sniffled, then nodded.

“You wanna know a secret?” he asked, leaning in conspiratorially.

Luci’s big eyes widened. “What?”

Aaron’s expression turned serious, but there was a glint of something playful in his gaze. “The best soccer players fall all the time. It just means you’re trying your hardest.”

That got a small giggle out of her. “Really?”

“Really.” He stood up, offering his hand. “Come on, let’s show ‘em how tough you are.”

Without hesitation, Luci grabbed his hand, letting him help her up. She wiped her eyes quickly, then ran back into the game like nothing happened.

You felt something catch in your throat.

And then, as if that wasn’t enough, Jack came up beside Aaron, looking up at him with a grin. “You didn’t tell me that secret.”

Aaron ruffled his son’s hair. “Didn’t need to, buddy. You already know you’re tough.”

Jack puffed out his chest, clearly proud.

Your chest tightened in a way that had nothing to do with Brian sitting just a few feet away, ignoring all of it. You swallowed, blinking a few times before looking at Aaron again.

He must have felt your eyes on him because he turned to meet your gaze and for the first time all morning you had to tear your eyes from his.

You watched as Luci dashed across the field with renewed energy, her eyes constantly searching for the ball, her little legs moving as fast as they could go.

She practically lit up when Aaron spoke to her, the way she smiled up at him when he praised her, or even when he simply acknowledged her presence. It wasn’t the kind of admiration a child typically had for a coach—it was something more, something pure and you found yourself upset that you hadn’t noticed it sooner.

She adored him— in a way you were kind of scared of.

As Luci ran past you, her face flushed with excitement, you caught her eye and waved. “You’re doing great out there, lovey!” You cooed at her.

She barely even glanced at you. Her eyes were locked on Aaron, who was standing on the sideline, coaching Jack on positioning. “I’m gonna score, Momma! Watch me!” she shouted, her voice full of pride.

Your heart softened, the words sticking in your throat. You hadn’t seen her this alive in a while. Luci had always been a bright kid, full of imagination and energy, but there was something different about her when she was playing soccer and Aaron was around. He had a way of drawing out her best qualities—the things she sometimes got too shy to reveal.

You could see the way Aaron’s eyes softened as he watched the team, the way his face, usually so composed, broke into a small but genuine smile.

Luci and Jack scored goal after goal together and he watched with eyes full of pride. Luci thought they were for her but you knew it was mostly for his son Jack.

The thought made you sad— she hadn’t looked over at Brian the whole game, she didn’t even care that he was there.

You swallowed hard, a mixture of sadness and something else settling in your chest. You were happy that Luci had found something so fun that she adored but the thought of her forming an unhealthy bond with her soccer coach did frighten you a little.

Luci adored him. She looked up to him, trusted him, and believed in him in a way she never did with Brian. And, if you were being honest, you couldn’t blame her.

The realization hit you harder than you expected. For all the times Brian had failed, Aaron had stepped in—not just as a coach, but as a role model, as someone Luci could turn to without hesitation.

And as you watched them now—her running to make a play, him giving her a thumbs-up from the sideline—something inside you stirred. Luci’s adoration wasn’t just something normal; it was deep— it ran so incredibly deep that you didn’t know what you were going to do when the season ended.

Later, as the game wrapped up and the kids started to gather around for the final huddle, you leaned against the fence, your arms crossed as you watched Luci chatter excitedly with the others. Aaron was kneeling, talking to the kids about teamwork and how proud he was of all of them. Luci was practically glowing as she stood beside him, her eyes fixed on him like he was the most important person in the world.

You smiled softly, but there was a slight pang in your chest. All the parents— minus Brian of course made the tunnel for the kids, your hands reaching up and resting against Aaron’s as if they belonged there.

Once you all pulled away, Aaron gave everyone a high five and walked over to pack up the cones on the field while the parents started to leave.

Your eyes never left his frame besides to check on Luci who was playing with Jack.

You’d never been able to deny the kind of man Aaron was. He was strong, compassionate, and quietly self-assured, never forcing attention but always commanding respect.

Your gaze softened as you noticed Luci nudging Jack, her eyes wide as she whispered something to him. Aaron caught her at the corner of his eye, and his lips tugged upward into a soft, knowing smile.

You didn’t realize you’d been so obvious until you felt someone stand next to you. It was Aaron, of course.

“You know, she really looks up to you,” you said before you could stop yourself.

He glanced at you, a little surprised, then nodded. “She’s a good kid.”

“She’s crazy about you,” you added, keeping your tone light, but there was a tenderness in your voice you couldn’t hide.

Aaron’s gaze flickered to Luci, his expression softening as he watched her laugh with Jack, her whole face alive with excitement. “She’s got a lot of love to give if you let her..” he said quietly, his tone a little different than before, less professional and more personal as he glanced over at Brian who seemingly hadn’t noticed the game was over.

You could tell he meant it. His voice had a warmth to it now, a little more genuine than it had been earlier, when he was still trying to maintain that distance. The way he looked at Luci wasn’t just as a coach—it was something more.

“She loves you,” you repeated, your voice almost a whisper now.

Aaron shifted slightly, his gaze still on Luci. “She’s a special kid,” he said, his voice thick with something that sounded almost like affection.

There was a pause between you, the air thick with something unsaid. You felt the warmth of his words settle in your chest, but there was also something else—something that made your heart flutter. It was hard not to notice how much Aaron had come to mean to Luci, how much he’d become a part of her world.

For a brief moment, you allowed yourself to imagine a life where it wasn’t just Aaron coaching Luci—where maybe, just maybe, he was part of your life in a bigger way.

But just as quickly, you pushed the thought away.

Aaron looked back at you then, his eyes meeting yours in a way that made you feel like he saw more than just the surface. You swallowed, trying to keep your composure.

“I think she’s lucky to have someone like you around,” you said, your voice soft but steady, the guilt evident in your voice as you thought about every time you’d begged Brian to show her an ounce of care— Aaron had, and he was a stranger.

Aaron’s gaze lingered a moment longer before he cleared his throat, his usual stoic expression falling back into place. “I’m just doing my part,” he replied, but there was a slight edge to his tone now—something that told you he wasn’t entirely convinced by that statement.

You smiled, but this time it felt more sincere. “Well, we’re both lucky to have you around, Coach.”

Aaron didn’t say anything for a moment, but you saw a flicker of something in his eyes—something that wasn’t just about the kids, about coaching, or even the game. It was about you, too.

He’d seen you every week for the past month, 4 nights a week. You were the only parent who helped run drills when Dave wasn’t there— you cheered on every kid, not just your own and when he asked you’d bring half time snacks.

Every conversation, every glance, every time you had unintentionally made his day better with your careless flirting and witty remarks.

“Come to lunch with me— this week, there’s this place by the office I’ve been wanting to try and—” His words caught you off guard but your expression didn’t waver, in fact you smirked, holding up your left hand to flash your wedding ring.

“Well as a very smart man reminded me— I’m married…” You trailed off, your tone playful as you stared at him, dropping your hand back down at your side.

Aaron’s eyes rolled for a moment before he spoke again. “Could’ve fooled me— here I thought you were flirting with me all this time.” He grinned and something about it told you that he didn’t do that often.

“Oh I was!” You giggled, using your hand to cover your mouth as if you were a child telling a secret. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I’m not very happy in my marriage..” You whispered childishly.

“So you’ll come?” He asked hopefully which made you grin and nod. “Text me?” You smirked, before calling Luci and Jack over.

“Momma can we play at Jack’s house?” Luci asked innocently, her little voice tugging at your heartstrings like it always had. “Maybe next time— Daddy probably wants to go home and—” Luci pouted and you had to try your hardest to remain in control.

She had the tendency to use her cuteness to get what she wanted from you. “Next time okay?” You smiled sadly, grabbing her hand.

She grumbled, her expression dropping slightly. “I wish Jack’s dad was my dad too.” She frowned and just like that your heart had shattered. You sent Aaron an apologetic frown and picked her up.

“We’ve gotta go honey— say bye to Jack and Coach Hotchner..” You said shakily and reluctantly she did, and the two of you walked away, leaving Aaron and Jack behind and you hoped that someday you wouldn’t have to.

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #thomas gibson #aaron hotch fluff #aaron hotch x reader #hotch x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #hotchner x reader #soccer!mom!reader!#aaron hotch angst #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch fanfiction #hotch x you

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elllisaaa · 9 months ago

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in ur last svt post (which made me fold btw) you mentioned you love doing bf thoughts (and we love reading them!!) so i’m gonna be the one to do it… any dirty bf!wonwoo headcanons sweetie? 🫣

not me dropping two wonwoo asks in one day like i’m not hansol biased i’m gonna run away 🏃‍♀️ he’s so husband material tho (getting back into my svt phase is fun 🙂‍↕️)

lmaoo honestly it's valid being whipped for wonwoo, i am too even though i'm a seokmin and chan girlie (hansol is coming at me these days though...)

BF!WONWOO who's a silent lover, but who loves you so much that everyone can see who smitten by you he is.

another member of seventeen that i think is a very good listener. wonwoo is always ready to listen to you when you need to talk, be that because something funny happened to you or because you had a bad day. and he's also really good at giving you advice when you have a problem. he strikes me as someone who's emotionally smart, so it isn't difficult for him to know that you're sad without you having to tell hims. sometimes he'll notice that you're not doing well and he will prepare you a little snack and deliver it with a kiss and a sweet "i love you, i'm here if you need to talk." that almost makes you tear up from how caring he is. also, wonwoo's hugs must feel incredibly good, like being engulfed in a warm bubble of love that's so soothing you immediately relax in his embrace. you could literally spend your whole life hugging him because it's genuinely the best feeling in the world.

"it's okay darling, i'm here now. everything is going to be alright."

wonwoo would love to play video games with you. it's good if you are already into it, but it would be even better if you don't because he would love to teach you how to play his favourite games. he would even use it as an excuse to make you sit on his lap while he's trying to show you how to play. from there, you would often play together, but it's also not rare for you to simply sit in wonwoo's lap and watch him play, or take a nap there, lulled to sleep by his breathing and heartbeat. one of his favourite ways to spend a date night at home with you is playing board games. you'd pick out one or two games together, make yourself some tea and prepare snacks and then you'll spend your night playing together. the members often joke about how the two of you are like an old couple but you don't care because what matters is that you're having fun during these game nights. also, wonwoo loves to just stay at home with you, all cozy in your matching pajamas and getting to see you all relaxed. he obviously loves it when you're dressing up when the two of you are going out, but you're the most beautiful to him with only a big beautiful smile on your face.

"let's just watch a movie tonight, i don't want to see other people, only you."

he's adamant on reminding you of how beautiful you are every single day. and that's the way he says it that makes you blush - like it's the most natural thing ever and that it's obvious. however, when it's your turn to praise wonwoo, he gets shy and bashful, and you literally have to fight him to get him to accept the compliment. but wonwoo loves your insistence on adoring him and he loves the attention - he's down bad for you, but it's good to know that you're down bad for him as well. he would often take photos of you without you noticing when he thinks you look particularly pretty. he won't show these pictures to you, but he has folder of them on his phone and on his computer too, and he looks at them when he's away from you and that he misses you. wonwoo would put all these secret photos into a pretty album he made and decorated himself, and he would gift it to you for your anniversary. overall, he would gift you a lot of mindful things like these, and you keep all of them in a little box under your bed.

"when did you take this one nonu ?" - "when we went to the botanical garden, you were so pretty that day."

BF!WONWOO who's a service top and who loves to please you, but who can also get a little bit mean when he wants to.

wonwoo definitely loves cockwarming with you. when you sit on his lap while he's playing video games, it's not impossible that he'll end up pushing your panties to the side and slipping his cock inside of you, not moving at all. he just loves the intimacy of it, how much you trust him and relax into his touch immediately. but it's impossible to not get hard when your pussy feels this wet and this warm, nor when you're sometimes clenching around him. wonwoo usually gives up pretty quickly, because he loves the feeling as much as you. most of the time, he would grip your hips and help you drop down on his cock slowly until the both of you cum. but when he's feeling more needy, he would bend you over his desk and fuck you rough from behind until you're screaming his name. but sometimes, you can stay like this for a long time, even managing to fall asleep because it feels so warm and safe to be so close to him. it's the way you feel so comfortable around him that gets him going mostly.

"just sit on my cock for while baby, then i'll fuck you, okay ?"

overall, wonwoo just loves to please you in every way he can. he's inflexible about foreplay because he loves to have you cumming at least once before he fucks you - his girl should get as much orgasms as possible because you only deserve the best. he woul often keep his glasses on while eating you out, because even if it's the most comfortable for him, he knows how crazy you go when he looks up at you through the fogged lenses and how hot you think he is when he has them on. wonwoo prefers positions where he can see your face as he fucks you, so missionary is a must with him. he loves to see your face contort when you're close to the edge, and he loves to watch you as he brings you to your orgasm - your pretty expressions and the sounds you make often enough to trigger his own release. again, he loves how close he can be to you in this position, chest and forehead pressed against each other's, whispering praises and love confessions against your lips while he ruts his hips into you deep.

"you're so pretty darling… so fucking pretty like this."

despite him being very romantic, he also knows how much you like it when he shows you how strong he is. wonwoo would definitely manhandle you into bending over for him if that's what you want - and he's not gonna lie by saying that he doesn't like it when you become all putty in his hands because he's holding your hands firmly behind your back. it's quite good for his ego too to hear you gush about how attractive he is, how hot his strength and his muscles are. wonwoo also uses it to his advantage when you've been a little tease or that he's frustrated. all these hours spent at the gym are worth it when it allows him to hold you down against the mattress while he pounds into you until you're crying out his name and that tears are running down your face. of course, he's always mindful of any signs of discomfort when he's rougher, but you both love it when wonwoo doesn't hold back and ruins you. it feels rewarding to know that he can make his girl scream his name so loud that the neighbors complain the next day.

"i'm not gonna let you go until you're dripping baby, i need to have you again."

#the wonwoo brainrot is real #eli answering your questions #eli's moots #dinna's asks #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #seventeen hard hours #seventeen hard thoughts #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo smut #wonwoo hard hours #wonwoo hard thoughts #jeon wonwoo

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mxstellatayte · 11 months ago

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hiiii ! could you write a part 2 for the charles and the vibe fic?

YIPPEE!!

i was gonna write it anyways but now i have an excuse to do it!

warnings: this is pure filth, threesome (mmf,) p in v sex, unprotected sex (DONT DO THAT,) mirror sex, carlos is an ass guy, charles is a boobs guy tho, kinda exhibitionism?, creampie, sex under the influence kinda?, it's all consensual though!

all you wanted to do was tease charles. all you wanted to do was see how much you could tempt his resolve before it would crumble. you had no idea it would result in getting eaten out in the bathroom and then promptly realizing that carlos had heard the whole thing and had covered for you and charles.

in exchange, carlos wanted to make even on a bet that he and charles had made at the start of the 2023 season.

monaco. february 10th, 2023.

"what do you think the odds are that one of us wins a race this year?"

charles looked up from the chessboard, his eyebrows furrowing. "what do you mean?"

"i was looking at the red bull and mclaren numbers and our car splits them. we have a fighting chance this year, so do you think one of us will get a win this year?" charles moves a rook, taking one of carlos' pawns.

"it depends. if my entire radio just sounds like 'we are checking, we are checking' and i have to make my own strategy and tyre calls, maybe. if xavi learns basic engineering and communicative skills or gets replaced altogether, i'd say yeah, there's a chance."

"you wanna bet?"

"what are we betting?"

carlos hesitates, then looks up when he hears the door opening. something clatters in the closet before you can be heard cursing quietly, then rearranging the fallen shoes onto the rack. eventually, you come through the doorway to the living room, and, when you see carlos, your face lights up.

"carlos! cómo estás?" (how are you?) you walk over and lean down, kissing his cheek in greeting.

"bien. un poco nervioso para bahrain, pero el carro maneja fantástico este año. y vos?" (good. a bit nervous for bahrain, but the car drives amazing this year. what about you?) you walk over to the kitchen while he's talking and pull out ingredients to make yourself a bowl of yogurt and berries- your favorite snack to have after work before you take your pit bull out for a walk.

"i'm alright. the marketing team made a stupid mistake so i had to do some damage control that took way longer than it should have, but i know martin is going to give them absolute hell tomorrow for it, so at least it doesn't reflect badly on me." your bowl clinks on the countertop as you sit down at the island and take out your computer, your headphones that were previously resting around your neck being slipped over your ears. "i've got some emails to write for an upcoming content creator collab we're doing, so i'll be in my zone. you guys know the drill?"

charles nods. "hermit mode?"

you smile, slipping the second speaker over your ear. "hermit mode."

a few moments pass before carlos speaks again. "are you okay with betting her?"

charles' eyebrows raise. "what do you mean?"

carlos makes his move on the chessboard. "if i win more races than you this year, i get her for a night. if you win more races than me, you can use me for a night. however you want."

the thought of his teammate and closest friend getting to fuck you lights a fire inside of charles, and while he wants nothing more than to agree to the bet purely for the stakes of it, he needs to check in with you first. "can i run it by her and get back to you on that?"

carlos nods. "just get me an answer by bahrain so we can figure something else out if she doesn't want to do that."

italy. february 3rd, 2024.

you had forgotten about the bet. charles and carlos had not.

now, just minutes later, you find yourself with your back once again against the wall, but this time you're staring into carlos' eyes while he fingers you gently, your legs wrapped around his waist and charles leaning against the vanity facing both of you. your eyes unintentionally flick over carlos' shoulder to your boyfriend who is an absolute mess. he's palming himself over his slacks, and you can tell just from the flush in his face that creeps down to his neck and the way his eyebrows are pinched together that he likes what he sees. before you can eye-fuck him the way you know he likes, carlos pulls his fingers out of you and you whine, but he carries you over to the vanity and taps your ass to get you to let go. "spin around, amor. let me see that beautiful ass of yours."

this is a side of carlos that you've never seen before, and it would be a lie to say that it's not hot. without a second thought, you spin yourself around so that your back is resting against his chest and your ass rests against his crotch. "come on, hermosa. bend over." as slowly as you can, you lean forward, resting your hands on the vanity and grinding yourself against him and you swear you can feel his dick twitch inside of his own black slacks. as soon as your forearms are fully resting on the granite vanity, carlos runs his hands down your back and to the front of your legs where he pulls the scarlet fabric of your dress to gather on your left side, the slit opening so that your entire ass is exposed. "no panties?" oh. you forgot about that.

"i kept them for good measure," charles says, pulling them out of his pocket. "you want 'em? you might have to shut her up. she never stops moaning."

"i know. i heard everything. you two are lucky i was the one outside and not anyone else. now," carlos says, taking your panties from your boyfriend and shoving them in his pocket, "do you feel like returning the favor?"

the whiskey you'd downed earlier is taking its effect, and you can't help but bite your lip and nod. normally, you wouldn't be nearly as confident as you are now with someone other than your boyfriend having you in the position you're in right now, but you trust carlos and frankly, you're too turned on to care. charles is in the same room and you're both comfortable enough in your relationship that it's okay. "yes, carlos. i'll return the favor. whatever you want." as you're talking, you can hear carlos unbuckle his belt and unzip his slacks, and when there's finally one layer of fabric between the two of you, carlos reaches into his jacket packet and pulls out a condom. before he opens it, though, you pipe up, your voice embarrassingly breathy and high. "i'm clean and on the pill. don't waste it if getting me pregnant is your only concern."

"are you sure?" carlos says, glancing over at charles. your boyfriend only responds with a shrug and points his thumb at you.

"whatever she says. you're the one fucking her."

carlos doesn't waste a second setting the condom on the vanity, pulling his slacks and underwear down his thighs just enough so that it's comfortable, and pushing into you. you have to bite your lip and cover your own mouth to prevent yourself from moaning too loudly, the stretch from carlos being so different to the one you're accustomed to with charles.

when you look up, carlos' head is thrown back and his hands grip your hips so tight his knuckles are white. it might be the hottest sight you've ever seen. "carlos." your voice is whiny, and you're shocked you can even get his name out.

"hm?"

"fuck me, please."

"are you sure?" his voice lilts in the way you're used to hearing, but this time, there's something slightly different about it. maybe it's the fact that he's currently buried inside of you, his hips flush with your own, or maybe it's the fact that every time you move your head to look up at him, your cunt squeezes around him so perfectly he fears he might cum within three thrusts, but either way, you feel so, so perfect.

"positive. now please. fuck. me." slowly, carlos pulls his hips back before pushing into you, slowly increasing his pace until every time his body meets your ass, you're shoved forward slightly on the counter and your breasts bounce forward, almost falling out of the low neckline of your dress.

"mierda, amor, tienes un coño hecho para mi," (shit, love, you have a cunt made for me,) carlos groans out, pulling your arms back and holding them with one hand while the other goes to hold you up by your neck. the restriction to your windpipe makes your head spin and the new angle has carlos' entire cock running against your g-spot with every thrust. you're able to wiggle your hands free, your left hand reaching back to tug at carlos' hair and your right goes down to rub circles around your clit, making you tighten around carlos' dick, and the combination of the pain from his hair being pulled and your cunt spasming around him makes him tip over the edge.

the feeling of carlos filling you up in turn sends you into your own orgasm, and as you cum, you look to your left, where charles jerks himself off watching you. when you make eye contact with him, though, it's the last straw and he spills into his hand with a quiet groan and his head thrown back.

the three of you catch your breaths and carlos pulls out of you gently, then shoves his cum back inside of you. the forgotten egg vibrator in charles' coat pocket is reinserted into your cunt and you whine at the overstimulation, slightly anxious that charles might tease you again, but he whispers a quiet promise in your ear that you've been good tonight, he won't turn it on anymore.

eventually, carlos slips out of the bathroom and you follow shortly after, walking back down the large hallway to return to the event. later that night, after speeches have been made, hollow promises have been spoken, and many, many bottles of expensive champagne have been toasted with, you make your way back outside, your arm linked with charles' as he calls his car to be pulled with the valet service. carlos walks up and stands next to the two of you, his car already on its way up, and turns to you.

"i'd say the bet is settled, no?"

there you have it folks :D

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reidmarieprentiss · 7 months ago

Text

Lost in Translation: Part Two

Summary: Penelope hosts a brunch, Derek tells Spencer not to force you to talk to him. You make a new friend with a client, they convince you to go to the brunch.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: comfort, angst

Warnings/Includes: alcohol consumption, regret of past decisions, Penelope playing match maker

Word count: 8k

a/n: Spencer and you finally talk!!!

main masterlist prologue part one part three part four

You’ve been avoiding every time Derek invites you to go out with the BAU team since the embarrassing incident at the bar. Each time you decline, you can hear the disappointment in his voice, but the anxiety bubbling up in your chest whenever you think about seeing Spencer again is enough to keep you from saying yes. The embarrassment of that night still haunts you, and every time Derek mentions the team, you feel your heart squeeze with panic.

To keep your mind off everything, you throw yourself into your work, accepting new clients and piling on extra projects. You stay late at the office, ensuring your schedule is so packed that you don’t have time to think about anything but deadlines, designs, and color schemes. It’s easier to focus on creating beautiful spaces for other people than it is to deal with the mess inside your own head.

Meanwhile, Spencer is struggling. Ever since that night at the bar, the memory of you running out haunts him. He keeps replaying the look on Derek’s face, the way you bolted the second he walked in, and it twists his gut with guilt. But it’s not just that moment—he’s also haunted by the memory of how he left you all those years ago, how he slipped out of your bed without a word, too scared to stay and too ashamed to face you. The weight of those two moments presses down on him, making it hard to focus on anything else.

Spencer's work starts to suffer. During cases, he’s distracted, zoning out during briefings and losing his train of thought mid-sentence. Hotch notices first, his brows knitting with concern as he watches Spencer fumble through his notes during a meeting. JJ, too, picks up on the change, her subtle glances in his direction filled with quiet worry. They don’t push him—yet—but Spencer knows they’re watching, waiting for him to say something. But he doesn’t. He just keeps burying it, trying to push it all down.

Spencer also finds himself trying to be around Derek more often, finding excuses to stop by his desk or catch him after work. He never outright asks about you, but it’s clear that’s why he’s hovering. Whenever Derek casually mentions having seen you, Spencer’s eyes light up, a flicker of hope in the midst of his guilt. But Derek’s updates are always brief, never giving away too much. He knows you’re still hurting, and he’s not about to let Spencer think everything is fine when it’s not.

Spencer hovered near Derek's desk, tapping his fingers nervously on the edge as Derek typed away at his computer. The bullpen was quiet for once, just the low hum of conversation in the background. Spencer cleared his throat, but didn’t say anything right away, trying to come up with something that didn’t sound too obvious.

“Hey, uh, Derek,” Spencer started, his voice a little too casual. “You have any plans this weekend?”

Derek didn’t even look up, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. He knew exactly what this was about, but he played along. “Yeah, got a few things going on,” he replied, his fingers still tapping at the keys. “Why, you got something in mind, Pretty Boy?”

Spencer shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his eyes darting around the room as if he wasn’t really sure what to say next. “No, I just... thought maybe we could grab a drink or something.” He paused for a beat. “Or, you know, if you’re hanging out with anyone else...?”

Derek chuckled softly, finally glancing up at Spencer with a knowing look. “Anyone else, huh?” he said, leaning back in his chair. “You mean, like Y/N?”

Spencer’s face flushed immediately, his hand rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck. “I mean... I wasn’t... just curious,” he stammered, avoiding eye contact.

Derek sighed, leaning forward on his desk and crossing his arms. “Look, man, she won’t just magically want to see you. You know that, right?”

Spencer’s face fell, the small flicker of hope that had sparked just moments ago snuffed out. He swallowed hard, nodding. “Yeah, I know,” he muttered, his voice barely audible. “I just... I guess I wanted to make sure she’s okay.”

After a long silence, Derek finally spoke up again. “Look, man,” he said, his voice a little gentler now. “You can’t keep hovering around me, hoping I’ll tell you she’s suddenly okay with everything. It’s gonna take time. And you’ve got to give her space.”

Spencer exhaled shakily, running a hand through his hair. “I know,” he whispered.

Derek gave him a small nod, watching as Spencer turned to leave, his shoulders slumped under the weight of everything left unsaid. But just before Spencer walked away, Derek called after him.

“Hey, Pretty Boy,” Derek said, his tone a little softer now. “For what it’s worth... I think she’ll come around. But you’ve gotta be patient. Let her come to you when she’s ready.”

Spencer looked back at Derek, a faint glimmer of hope in his eyes again, but this time tempered with the understanding that it might take more time than he’d like. “Thanks, Derek,” he said quietly, before turning and walking back to his desk, his mind still racing with thoughts of you.

At this point, the rest of the team is fully aware of why you keep declining their invitations and why Spencer’s been so off lately. Penelope, in particular, can’t stand seeing anyone so miserable. After hearing about your history with Spencer from Derek, she’s taken it upon herself to figure out how to fix this mess. Penelope’s always been a sucker for a happy ending, and she refuses to believe that this is how your story should end.

So, she starts plotting. She ropes Derek into her schemes, convincing him that if anyone can get you two to reconcile, it’s them. Derek, though hesitant at first, agrees. He knows you, and he knows Spencer, and as much as he wants to stay out of it, he also wants both of his friends to be happy.

Penelope sat at her desk, typing furiously away, when Derek walked up, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed, watching her with a raised brow.

"Alright, Penelope, spill it," Derek said, voice low with suspicion. "What are you up to?"

Penelope’s fingers paused on the keyboard as she slowly turned to face him, her lips curling into a mischievous grin. “I have no idea what you mean,” she said sweetly, though her eyes betrayed her scheming.

Derek sighed, shaking his head. “Come on, don’t play dumb with me. I know you too well. You’ve been up to something ever since that mess at the bar.”

She sighed dramatically, leaning back in her chair. “Okay, fine. Maybe I’m plotting just a little, but it's for the greater good.” She sat up straighter, eyes gleaming. “I mean, you want Y/N and Spencer to make up, don’t you?”

Derek hesitated, running a hand over his head. “Look, it’s not like I don’t want that, but... you’ve met Y/N. She’s not going to be happy if we force them together.”

Penelope waved her hand dismissively. “Pish posh! I’m not forcing anything. I’m simply creating a situation where fate can do its thing.” She leaned in closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Picture this: we invite Y/N to one of my brunches, or maybe to your next team gathering, and oh! Surprise! Spencer’s there. They bump into each other, sparks fly, and—boom! Reconciliation.”

Derek raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “You really think it’s that simple?”

Penelope's eyes widened in exaggerated innocence. “Of course not. But it’s better than both of them moping around like lovesick teenagers.”

Derek sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Mama, I want them to figure it out, but Y/N’s... she’s been through a lot. I don’t want to push her too hard. If she finds out we’ve been scheming, she’s going to be pissed. You have no idea how stubborn she can be.”

Penelope leaned forward, placing her hands flat on her desk. “Which is exactly why we need to be subtle about this, my sexy, sculpted cupid. We’re not going to push them. We’re just going to nudge them in the right direction. And if it doesn’t work? Then we back off. But I refuse to sit by and watch Spencer be miserable, and know she’s miserable too, when we could help.”

Derek looked down at her, his jaw tightening as he considered it. “And what if Y/N doesn’t want to see him? She hasn’t exactly been jumping at the chance to hang out with the team since that night.”

Penelope shrugged, giving him a hopeful smile. “Then we let it be. But Derek, what if this is the closure they both need? Or better yet, another chance? We owe it to them to try.”

Derek groaned, knowing she wasn’t going to let it go. “Alright, fine. But if this backfires, Garcia, you’re taking the blame.”

Penelope grinned triumphantly, clapping her hands together. “Trust me, Hot Stuff, it won’t backfire. This is going to work.”

Derek shook his head, laughing under his breath as he turned to leave. “You better be right.”

Penelope’s voice followed him as he walked out. “Oh, I’m always right when it comes to matters of the heart, Derek Morgan. Just wait and see!”

Derek muttered under his breath, “We’ll see about that.” But deep down, he couldn’t help but hope she was right.

Their plan starts simple—just trying to get you both in the same room again, even if it’s by accident. As the wheels of their plan start turning, both you and Spencer remain blissfully unaware of their scheming. You’re too busy drowning in work, and Spencer’s too tangled up in his own guilt to notice the subtle nudges Penelope and Derek are starting to orchestrate.

—

The lunchtime crowd hummed quietly around you as you sat across from Derek at your favorite corner table. The restaurant had always been your go-to, a cozy, familiar space where you could relax and enjoy the food without worrying about the outside world. Today, though, you were feeling anything but relaxed. Derek was giving you that look—the one that said he was about to bring up something you’d been trying to avoid.

“So,” Derek began, cutting into his sandwich, his voice casual, but his eyes watching you carefully. “Penelope’s throwing one of her infamous brunches this weekend. Thought you might want to come.”

You sighed, already knowing where this was going. “I don’t know, Derek. I’ve been really busy with work, and—”

Derek held up a hand, interrupting you gently. “I know, I know. You’ve been taking on a lot of new projects lately.” He paused, his tone softening. “But you’ve been avoiding hanging out with the team since... well, you know.”

Your heart tensed a little, but you quickly pushed the feeling away, forcing a smile as you sipped your drink. “I’m just not ready to jump back into all that. It’s been nice keeping my head down and staying focused.”

Derek leaned forward, his eyes full of understanding but also a hint of concern. “I get it, sugar. I’m not saying you should force yourself into anything. But maybe... maybe it’s time to let yourself have a little fun again. No pressure, just brunch with some really cool people. Penelope’s dying to see you again, and so is the rest of the team.”

You hesitated, your fingers tapping lightly against the rim of your glass. The thought of seeing everyone again made your stomach twist. But what if Spencer was there? What if you had to see him? You weren’t sure if you could handle that yet.

“Is Spencer going to be there?” you asked, your voice quieter than you intended.

Derek paused, his fork hovering over his plate. He looked at you thoughtfully before answering, not wanting to lie but also not wanting to overwhelm you. “Honestly? Probably not.”

Your brows furrowed. “Probably?”

Derek shrugged, setting his fork down. “I haven’t heard anything about him coming, and knowing Spencer, he’s been pretty distracted lately. I doubt he’ll make it. But... even if he did, it wouldn’t be about him. It’d be about you. Hanging out with people who really want to get to know you better.”

You bit your lip, torn between wanting to stay in your bubble and knowing Derek was right. You’d been keeping yourself so busy with work that you hadn’t given yourself much time to just... exist outside of it. And as much as you hated to admit it, you really did like hanging out with Derek and Penelope and the rest of the team.

But there was still that nagging worry—what if seeing them all again just brought back memories of Spencer? Of what happened at the bar, and everything that came before it?

Derek seemed to sense your hesitation, and he reached across the table, placing his hand on yours. “Hey, you’re not gonna be alone in this, alright? We’ve got your back. And if it gets weird or uncomfortable, we’ll bail. No questions asked.”

You met his gaze, seeing the sincerity there, the way he genuinely wanted to help you move past this. And honestly, maybe he was right. You couldn’t keep avoiding the world forever. Eventually, you’d have to face things—even the parts that hurt.

After a long moment, you sighed, leaning back in your chair. “Alright,” you said, though your voice still held a trace of uncertainty. “I’ll think about it.”

Derek grinned, clearly pleased with your response, even if it wasn’t a solid yes just yet. “That’s all I’m asking, sweetheart. Just think about it.”

You smiled, though your mind was still turning over the idea. It wasn’t a decision you were ready to make just yet, but the fact that you were even considering it felt like a step in the right direction.

—

Derek found Spencer sitting at his desk, flipping through a stack of papers, though it was clear his mind was miles away. His usual hyper-focused energy was absent, replaced by an air of distracted tension that had been hanging over him for weeks now. Derek knew it wasn’t just the cases that had Spencer like this. It was you.

“Hey, Pretty Boy,” Derek said casually as he leaned against the side of Spencer’s desk, crossing his arms. Spencer looked up, startled out of his thoughts, blinking rapidly as if he hadn’t even noticed Derek approach.

“Oh, hey,” Spencer replied, a faint smile flickering on his lips. “What’s up?”

Derek didn’t waste any time. He leaned in a little closer, his voice lowering so their conversation wouldn’t be overheard by the rest of the team. “Listen, man, I wanted to give you a heads-up about something.”

Spencer sat up a little straighter, already sensing that this wasn’t just a casual conversation. “What is it?” he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

Derek rubbed the back of his neck, weighing his words carefully. “Y/N might be coming to Penelope’s brunch this weekend,” he said, watching Spencer’s reaction closely.

Spencer’s eyes widened slightly, his breath catching as he processed the news. “She is?” His voice was quiet, a mixture of hope and nerves in his tone.

“Yeah, but here’s the thing,” Derek continued, his tone more serious now. “You’ve gotta give her space, man. Let her come to you when she’s ready. She’s not gonna want you chasing after her or trying to force a conversation. If she shows up, it’s a big deal for her.”

Spencer gave Derek a sharp look. "I'm not a child, Morgan. I can handle this."

Derek nodded, lowering his hands. "Fair enough. I wouldn’t expect you to. Just... give her the space she needs, alright?"

Spencer sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Understood. I know I messed up, and I’ll give her space. But I’m not going to act like she doesn't exist. I care about her too much for that."

Derek gave him a small, encouraging smile. "That’s all I’m asking, man. Just be ready when the time’s right." With a final pat on Spencer’s shoulder, Derek straightened up. “See you at brunch, man. Just... take it easy.”

Spencer watched as Derek walked away, the weight of the conversation settling heavily on his chest. He knew it wasn’t going to be easy. But for your sake, he was willing to wait.

—

On your most recent job, you quickly hit it off with Austin, the person you’re helping redesign their living space. They’re warm, funny, and easy to talk to, and the two of you click almost immediately.

After finishing up the day’s discussion on design plans, Austin smiles and offers, “How about a cup of coffee before you head out? I make a mean brew.”

Grateful for the break and their company, you nod. “I’d love that.”

Austin heads to the kitchen, and you follow, feeling like you’ve made a new friend as much as a professional connection.

As you sit in the newly remodeled kitchen with Austin, the atmosphere feels warm and cozy. The soft glow of sunlight through the windows highlights the potted plants neatly arranged on the shelves, while the scent of fresh coffee fills the air. Austin hands you a mug, their smile easy and comforting as you settle into a chair.

You and Austin chat aimlessly for a while, exchanging stories and making easy, lighthearted conversation. The topics flow naturally—favorite movies, travel dreams, and funny stories from work. Eventually, the conversation shifts when Austin starts gushing about their partner, eyes lighting up as they tell you about the recent proposal and how they’re working to finish the house before their partner officially moves to Virginia.

“So, they proposed right there in the park,” Austin says with a dreamy grin. “I swear, I didn’t even see it coming. I was still thinking about what we were going to have for lunch, and then bam, ring in my face!”

You smile, warmed by their excitement. “That’s amazing. It sounds perfect.”

“It was,” Austin beams, looking star-eyed thinking about their fiance. Then, they turn to you with a curious glint in their eye. “Okay, so spill. Anyone tickling your fancy lately? I don’t see a ring.” They gesture to your bare hand with a teasing grin.

You laugh lightly, rubbing your ring finger absentmindedly as you sigh. “Yeah, maybe, well, no. There’s this... guy. But it’s complicated.”

Austin’s grin widens as they lean in, clearly intrigued. “Complicated, huh? Oh, now you have to tell me. What’s the tea?”

You take a breath, then dive into the story. You don't name names—you never know who’s going to know Spencer now—but you tell Austin about the guy from your past who broke your heart, the one who ghosted after everything. You explain how, years later, he's suddenly back in your life, and how seeing him has stirred up all those old feelings again, leaving you confused and unsure of what to do.

Austin listens intently, nodding as you talk. "That sounds rough," they say softly when you finish. "It’s totally valid to feel hurt, and it’s understandable if you don’t want to rush back into anything."

"Yeah, thank you—but... it’s been years. Shouldn’t I be over it by now?" you ask, feeling the familiar frustration rise in your chest. "I’ve been ignoring him, avoiding anything or anyone that might bring him back into my life, but now I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing."

Austin leans back, resting their mug on the table. "It’s not about how long it’s been; it’s about how it affected you. It’s okay to still feel hurt. But maybe... hearing him out could give you some closure. It doesn’t mean you have to forgive him or let him back into your life, but it might help you move forward."

You bite your lip, considering their words. "I don’t know if I can face him. What if he just makes things worse?"

Austin smiles, their expression soft but encouraging. "Only you know what you need. But remember, this isn’t about him. It’s about you. What do you need to feel at peace with all this? If hearing him out helps, then maybe it’s worth considering. If not, that’s okay too. Just make sure you’re doing what’s best for you, not what’s easiest."

Their words settle over you like a comforting blanket, making you feel understood. Austin seems to have a way of turning serious conversations into lighthearted moments, and you’re grateful for it.

"Plus," Austin adds with a grin, "if it goes badly, you can always stage a dramatic exit at the brunch. I’m talking about flipping tables and storming out—full soap opera style."

You laugh, the weight of the situation lifting just a bit. "You know, that might actually make it worth going."

"Exactly!" Austin beams. "But seriously, I think you should go. If nothing else, you'll get some great brunch food, and maybe—just maybe—you'll get the closure you're looking for. Worst case, you can leave and we’ll plan the perfect revenge."

Feeling more confident with their support, you finally nod. "Alright, I’ll go to the brunch."

Austin claps their hands together excitedly. "Good! And I’ll be here, ready to hear all the details afterward."

With that, the two of you spend the rest of the afternoon chatting and laughing, the heavy weight of indecision lightening with each joke and bit of encouragement. Austin’s easygoing nature and advice give you the nudge you need to face the upcoming brunch—and Spencer.

—

That night, as Spencer lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, his mind began to wander, slipping into the memories of a time he hadn’t let himself revisit in years—college, the late nights in the library, the quiet moments spent with you.

He could still remember the first time he saw you on campus, walking across the quad with your head down, focused on a book you were balancing in your arms. You hadn’t noticed him then, but he had noticed you—how could he not? The way you carried yourself, the quiet confidence in your demeanor. At first, he admired you from a distance, his heart catching whenever you passed by in a hallway or sat near him in the library. You had no idea, and he was too shy to ever approach you.

Then came the nights in the library, when fate—or maybe just a shared dedication to studying—brought you together. The quiet hum of the fluorescent lights above, the rustle of pages being turned, and the way your pens would scratch in unison over notebook paper as you both worked. He remembered how, over time, you grew comfortable with each other’s presence, exchanging little smiles, shared inside jokes, and eventually conversations that lasted longer than either of you planned.

There was one night, in particular, that stuck in his memory—a night when you two had stayed so late that the library lights started to dim, signaling closing time. The campus was quiet as you both walked out together, the cool air brushing against your faces. You had laughed about something, your eyes lighting up in the moonlight, and Spencer remembered how his heart had fluttered in that moment, wondering how someone could make him feel so at ease. He never thought he’d get to know you, let alone be someone you’d spend your nights with, even if just for studying.

And then came the night that changed everything. The night you had invited him over after finals, and things became more than just studying. He hadn’t expected it, didn’t even dare to imagine it, but when it happened, it felt... perfect.

You had fallen asleep on his chest that night, your soft breaths a rhythm against his skin. He remembered lying there, tracing small patterns on your back, feeling the warmth of your body pressed against his. It should have been the best night of his life—and in many ways, it was—but his mind, his insecurities, had taken over. He remembered thinking that you were too good for him, that someone like you wouldn’t want to stick around for someone like him. And that fear, that crushing fear of losing you, had driven him to leave.

Spencer swallowed hard as the guilt washed over him again. He had been so lovesick, so desperate to protect himself from the inevitable heartbreak he assumed would come. But in doing so, he had created a heartbreak that had lasted for years—for both of you.

Now, on the eve of seeing you again, the weight of it all pressed down on his chest like a heavy stone. The regret was unbearable, but so was the longing—the memory of your laughter, your smile, the way you looked at him when you thought he wasn’t paying attention. Spencer felt a deep ache in his chest, his heart pounding with the knowledge that he might never get the chance to tell you how much you had meant to him, how much you still did.

He had been infatuated with you all those years ago, and now, he realized, that feeling had never truly gone away.

Unable to sleep, Spencer tossed and turned, his mind refusing to quiet. Every memory, every regret, kept replaying on a loop. With a sigh of frustration, he finally threw the covers off and dragged himself out of bed, padding down the hall toward his office.

He knew it was pointless, but something inside him—maybe it was curiosity, maybe guilt—compelled him to open his laptop. His fingers hovered over the keys for a moment before they moved almost automatically, typing your name into the search bar.

Within seconds, your business page appeared. Spencer hesitated before clicking, his heart racing, his palms suddenly clammy. It felt intrusive, like peeking into a part of your life he no longer had the right to know about, but he couldn’t stop himself.

As the page loaded, his eyes immediately went to the gallery of your work—beautiful, thoughtfully designed interiors that gave him a glance into you, your mind. He scrolled through the images slowly, taking in the details. The colors, the arrangements, the way you made spaces feel both warm and elegant. He had always known you were talented, but seeing the breadth of your work now, years later in a professional sense and not just sketches for class, filled him with a sense of pride.

And then he saw it—your headshot, nestled at the top of the page alongside your name and title. His breath caught in his throat as he stared at the picture. There you were, smiling, your eyes bright, your expression so familiar it made his heart ache.

Spencer leaned closer to the screen, his gaze fixating on the details of your face. He studied every line, every angle, as if trying to memorize you all over again. It had been so long since he’d seen you up close, but here, on this screen, you felt so near and yet so far.

His fingers grazed the edge of the trackpad, hesitant, before he clicked on the image, enlarging it until it filled the screen. He stared, lost in the sight of you—how much you had grown, how much you had changed, but still so much the same. The emotions welled up inside him, a mixture of longing and regret, so intense he could hardly breathe.

He had left you, walked away when he was too afraid to face what he felt, and now, all these years later, here you were, thriving in a world he no longer shared with you. Spencer wondered if you had moved on, if you had someone else in your life now, someone who appreciated all the beauty and warmth you brought into the world.

But even more than that, he wondered if you would ever forgive him.

Spencer stared at your picture until the screen blurred, the weight of his emotions pressing down on him. He didn’t deserve your forgiveness—he knew that much. But as he sat there, in the silence of his office, staring at the face he had missed for so long, he couldn’t help but hope that maybe, just maybe, you would give him the chance to try.

—

You showed up to Penelope’s place early, just as promised, with Derek by your side. He immediately went to help her hang up string lights while you and Penelope stayed together, fussing over the final touches. The atmosphere was lively and fun, and you were glad you came today.

When you entered her kitchen, Penelope lit up. "Oh my God! Look at you! I am in love with your outfit!" she exclaimed, her hands clapping together in excitement. You grinned, feeling the compliment ease some of your nerves.

“You’re one to talk,” you gestured towards her own colorful ensemble, the vibrant red and playful green perfectly matching her quirky style. “You look like you stepped out of a fashion magazine—one that I desperately need a subscription to."

Penelope twirled dramatically, her beret perched at the perfect angle, making the charm bracelet on her wrist dangle and jingle. "Stop it, we’re just the most fashionable duo, aren’t we?" She winked at you before handing you a mimosa. "Okay, now drink up. We've got some brunch magic to make happen."

As you sipped the bubbly drink, you couldn’t help but feel the knot of anxiety loosen in your chest. You and Penelope moved around the kitchen, arranging pastries and fruit trays, talking about everything except the one thing you knew was still looming in the background—Spencer. But for now, with the lights twinkling outside, the mimosas in hand, and Penelope by your side, you allowed yourself to feel a small sense of peace.

As the morning drifted into late brunch hour, the doorbell chimed, signaling the arrival of the first guests. You exchanged a quick, encouraging glance with Penelope before taking another sip of your mimosa, the fizz tickling your nose as you set the glass down.

“I’ll get it!” Penelope sang, already halfway to the door. You watched from the kitchen as she swung it open with her signature flair. “Elle! JJ! Look at you gorgeous queens!”

Elle was the first to step inside, her calm confidence radiating as she gave Penelope a warm hug. “You’re too much,” Elle smirked, though you could see the affection in her eyes as she gave Penelope a squeeze.

JJ, all smiles, followed closely behind, her sunny personality lighting up the room the second she entered. “Garcia!” she exclaimed, leaning in for her own hug. “This place looks amazing, as usual.” She cast a quick glance around the room, taking in the string lights, the vibrant color scheme, and of course, the immaculate spread of food that had been lovingly arranged.

Penelope didn’t miss a beat. “Girls, you remember Y/N!” she called over, practically skipping as she gestured towards you. “She’s my stylish new partner-in-crime today.”

Elle and JJ turned toward you with warm, inviting smiles. JJ was the first to step forward, her kindness evident in her expression. “Y/N! Of course we remember. I’m glad you’re here!” She opened her arms for a quick, friendly hug, which you returned, grateful for her easygoing energy.

Elle followed suit, her smile softer but no less welcoming. “Good to see you again,” she said, giving you a nod of approval as she took in your outfit. “You’re definitely keeping up with Penelope in the style department.”

You laughed lightly, feeling the tension start to ease as you hugged Elle too. “I had to step up my game, knowing she’d outshine all of us,” you joked, throwing a playful glance at Penelope, who was already bouncing back towards the food to check on the platters.

Derek, meanwhile, appeared from the other side of the room, finishing up with the string lights. He clapped his hands together, grinning as he walked over. “Ladies! Looks like we’re in for quite the brunch.”

JJ raised her glass in response, smiling. “Cheers to that. It’s been way too long since we’ve had a proper get-together.”

Elle nodded in agreement. “Let’s hope the food tastes as good as it smells. You and Penelope outdid yourselves this time.”

Penelope shot her a cheeky grin. “Oh, honey, just wait until you taste it. Y/N’s been helping too—she’s a natural!”

You felt a small flush creep into your cheeks at the compliment, but the easy laughter and casual conversation swirling around you made it hard to feel too self-conscious. It was starting to feel like maybe this day wouldn’t be as nerve-wracking as you’d feared.

Next to arrive, in a much more subdued manner, were Hotch and Haley. Hotch entered with his usual calm presence, while Haley smiled warmly, her arm linked with his. She radiated a gentle energy that put you at ease immediately. As they approached, Hotch offered a small nod of greeting, his serious demeanor softened just slightly by the casual setting.

“Penelope, this place looks amazing,” Haley said, her voice filled with admiration as she took in the setup. “It’s so cozy and beautiful.”

Penelope beamed, twirling slightly as she accepted the compliment. “Why, thank you! Y/N helped with all the setup. We’re a dynamic duo today,” she said, sending you a proud wink.

Haley turned her attention to you, her smile genuine as she extended her hand. “Y/N, it’s great to meet you. I’m Aaron’s wife, Haley. Penelope mentioned you have an eye for design, and I can definitely see it.”

You shook her hand, grateful for her easy manner. “Thank you, Haley. I’m glad you like it. It’s nice to meet you too.”

Hotch gave you a polite smile as well. “Good to see you, Y/N,” he said simply, his voice carrying its usual quiet authority but without the edge it often had in more formal settings.

“It’s good to see you too, Hotch,” you replied, matching his composed tone.

The group began to chat casually, the energy shifting to a more relaxed rhythm with Haley’s calm presence balancing Penelope’s excitable nature. You found yourself blending in more easily than you expected, the unease you felt earlier starting to fade away as the conversation flowed naturally.

You couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief that, so far, everything was going smoothly. The brunch was shaping up to be a success, and for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to enjoy the moment without worrying about what—or who—might come next.

But then, just as you were starting to relax, there was a knock at the door. The sound sent a jolt of anxiety through you, your breath catching in your throat as the lighthearted atmosphere suddenly shifted. You choked on a breath, your fingers tightening around your glass.

Derek, noticing the slight change in your expression, patted your shoulder reassuringly before heading to the door. He swung it open with his usual confident ease, his grin widening as he greeted the new arrivals.

“Gideon! Reid!” Derek’s voice was full of his usual warmth, but when your eyes caught sight of Spencer standing just behind Gideon, your pulse spiked.

Gideon stepped inside first, laughing as he shook Derek’s hand. “You know how much Spencer hates driving. He practically begged me to pick him up,” he joked, casting a sideways glance at Spencer, who was lingering just outside the doorway.

Spencer offered a small, awkward smile, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket as he gave Derek a polite nod. "Yeah, driving... not my favorite thing."

Your heart hammered in your chest as you saw Spencer—looking the same, yet different. His hair was longer, his expression a little more weathered. He seemed hesitant, as if unsure of his place in the room, but when his eyes quickly scanned the space and landed on you, they widened ever so slightly.

Derek caught the momentary tension between you and Spencer, his jaw tightening subtly. He turned to the rest of the group, his tone trying to smooth over the sudden shift in energy. “Alright, everybody, make room for these two. Brunch is waiting to be devoured.”

Penelope quickly stepped forward to greet Gideon and Spencer with an exuberant smile, acting oblivious to the quiet storm brewing between you and the man now standing only a few feet away.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to breathe, and turned away, praying no one could see the turmoil swirling in your chest.

Gideon, ever the perceptive one, glanced around the room, his eyes briefly scanning each face before they settled on you. He tilted his head slightly, the hint of a curious smile playing on his lips. Without missing a beat, he broke away from the small group forming near the entrance and made his way over to you.

“Hello,” Gideon greeted you warmly, extending a hand. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Jason Gideon.”

You blinked, momentarily startled by the direct introduction, but quickly reached out to shake his hand. "Y/N," you replied with a polite smile, though your voice wavered slightly, the nerves still simmering beneath the surface. "It’s nice to meet you."

Gideon’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he studied you for a moment, seeming to pick up on the tension you were trying so hard to conceal. “Derek speaks highly of you,” he added kindly, his tone gentle, as if sensing that you needed a little bit of reassurance.

Your stomach twisted, but you nodded in response. “He’s a good friend,” you said, glancing in Derek’s direction for a split second before focusing back on Gideon.

The conversation had inadvertently drawn Spencer's attention. From the corner of your eye, you could see him turn slightly, his gaze shifting from Gideon to you. His posture stiffened, and though he remained rooted to his spot near the door, his eyes were now locked on you, a flicker of recognition passing through them.

There it was—the moment you had been dreading. You didn’t have to look directly at him to feel the weight of his gaze on you. Spencer, standing just a few feet away, realizing that you were here.

Gideon seemed to notice too. He glanced over his shoulder toward Spencer before turning back to you, his expression a little softer now, as if understanding something unspoken.

“Well,” Gideon said after a brief pause, “it was a pleasure to meet you, Y/N.” He gave you a final smile before turning to rejoin the others, leaving you standing there with your pulse racing and the unmistakable feeling of Spencer’s eyes still on you.

You exhaled slowly, trying to steady yourself. This was exactly what you had been trying to avoid, but now there was no escaping it. You made brief eye contact, nodding in acknowledgement as Spencer gave you one of his infamous tight lipped smiles.

Spencer stood frozen in place, his breath catching in his throat the moment Gideon’s conversation with you drew his attention. The sight of you—standing there, laughing politely at something Gideon said—was like a punch to the gut. He had been preparing himself for this, trying to steel his nerves, but nothing could’ve braced him for the actual moment of seeing you again.

You looked incredible, more radiant than he remembered, and the sight of you stirred up everything he had been trying to push down. The memories flooded back—the long nights in the library, the gentle teasing, the way your hand had felt in his, and the soft sound of your laugh. You should say something, he told himself. But his feet remained firmly planted on the floor, rooted in the swirl of emotions tightening his chest.

Spencer felt a wave of heat rush over him. You looked so good—better than he’d ever allowed himself to imagine in the countless nights he’d lain awake thinking of you. That plaid dress you wore, the way it cinched at your waist, how your hair framed your face perfectly—every detail made him dizzy. He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry as he tried to focus, but all he could do was stare.

God, what am I supposed to say? You hadn’t looked at him again since the brief glance. The thought gnawed at him. Does she hate me? Is she angry? Does she even care that I’m here?

His mind spiraled deeper, the insecurity choking him like a vice. Every possible scenario played out in his head: You turning around, glaring at him with the bitterness you were more than entitled to feel; you ignoring him completely, dismissing him as though he didn’t matter. Both options made him feel sick.

I don’t deserve to talk to her, he thought miserably.

But he wanted to. He wanted so badly to close the space between you, to say something, anything that might take back the years of silence and cowardice. His hands fidgeted nervously at his sides, his mind screaming at him to move, to walk over, to apologize, to finally make things right. But Spencer stayed where he was, staring at you like a man drowning, desperately reaching for the surface, for something to anchor him—but unable to find it.

You shifted slightly, turning in his direction for just a second. Your eyes flickered toward him once more. The briefest glance, and then you quickly looked away.

It was enough to make his heart drop.

She can’t even look at me.

Spencer clenched his jaw, the painful mix of regret and longing clawing at his insides. He could hear Derek’s words echoing in his head—give her space, let her come to you on her terms. But the problem was, he wasn’t sure he could wait anymore. How could he, when just seeing you from across the room was this overwhelming?

He stood there, drowning in his own thoughts, desperate to say something, to do something that would fix it all. But he couldn’t. Not yet. And it was tearing him apart.

As the brunch carried on, Spencer couldn’t tear his eyes away from you, even though he was seated far enough that any chance of a conversation seemed impossible. You were right there, at the opposite end of the table, laughing, talking, and enjoying yourself with everyone else. Each time you laughed, it felt like a tug on his heart, reminding him of what you two had shared all those years ago.

The way you joked with Derek so easily, the way your banter flowed naturally—Spencer couldn’t help but feel that pang of jealousy creep in. It was irrational, but he couldn’t ignore the small voice in the back of his mind whispering that maybe, just maybe, you had moved on with Derek. He tried to shake the thought, knowing how close you and Derek were as friends, but the insecurity was there nonetheless, gnawing at him.

Maybe that’s why Derek doesn’t want me to push things, Spencer thought bitterly, feeling the weight of his suspicions grow. Maybe he wants her for himself.

Spencer’s hands tightened around his glass, the icy chill of his now cold tea doing nothing to cool the heat rising in his chest. He knew he was being ridiculous, but the thought wouldn’t leave him. It stuck in his mind, festering as he watched Derek’s casual affection toward you. It didn’t help that you smiled at Derek the way you used to smile at him.

When you excused yourself to make more tea, Spencer’s mind was spinning too much to stay seated. He couldn’t let the jealousy take control, but it was too late; it had already wrapped around his thoughts, suffocating any sense of logic. Before he realized it, his legs had carried him from the table, following you into the kitchen.

The moment you walked into the cozy kitchen that you'd helped Penelope prepare, the warm smell of the tea leaves filled the air. The clink of teacups and the sound of water boiling were the only things breaking the quiet of the room. You didn’t notice Spencer following you at first, too caught up in refilling the teapot and enjoying the brief solitude from the table’s conversations.

Spencer hesitated at the entrance to the kitchen, watching you from behind as you moved gracefully between the counter and the kettle. His heart was pounding, the thoughts racing in his mind, torn between his guilt over the past and the irrational jealousy clouding his judgment.

Finally, he spoke, his voice soft but thick with everything he was holding back. “Y/N.”

You turned at the sound of his voice, surprised to see him standing there, clearly not expecting this moment. The tension between you two was palpable, hanging in the air like a weight neither of you was ready to address.

"Spencer," you acknowledged softly, your hands still on the teapot as you stared at him. The awkwardness was undeniable, but there was something else too—years of unspoken words, regrets, and emotions neither of you had faced.

Spencer swallowed hard, his throat tight as he stepped further into the kitchen. "I... I just wanted to—um, I need more tea," he said, fumbling for words, clearly not sure how to approach the conversation.

“Oh, okay,” you replied, surprised that was all he said but pleasantly relieved at the simplicity of it. "I can make you a cup if you want."

Your offer seemed to melt some of the tension in Spencer’s demeanor. His expression softened as he realized you were still the same kind person he’d fallen for all those years ago. “Thank you, that’s really kind of you.”

You nodded, reaching for the teapot. "Milk and sugar? Honey?"

He let out a small chuckle. "Yeah, all of it, please. I like it sweet."

“I know,” you mumbled, the words slipping out naturally. You’d seen Spencer drink his overly sugary coffee so many times back in college, his sweet tooth no secret to you.

Spencer rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, fidgeting with his hair as he tried to keep the conversation light. "Do you still drink coffee? Or is it all tea now?"

You shrugged, pouring the tea into his cup. “I do both. No need for all that caffeine today.” You laughed softly. “For work, though? That definitely requires coffee.”

Spencer smiled, feeling a little more at ease. "Yeah, I get that. My body’s probably made up of pure coffee by now," he joked, happy he’d chosen to stick with casual conversation rather than diving into the deep, painful history between you two again.

Maybe Derek was right—maybe you would come to him when you were ready. But as soon as the thought crossed his mind, his heart sank. Derek. He remembered the way you laughed with him, how easily you’d fallen into a rhythm with him at the table.

The jealousy he’d managed to suppress earlier crept back in, though he did his best to push it down again. You were being kind, and he didn’t want to ruin this moment. But still, the thought lingered—was Derek the one holding you back from wanting to talk to him?

But you’d already turned around, catching the pensive look on Spencer’s face. "Everything alright?" you asked, a little concerned by the way his expression had shifted.

“Yeah,” he said quickly, looking up at you with a soft, almost hesitant smile. "So, uh, you and Derek, huh?"

You blinked, tilting your head in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Spencer’s fingers fidgeted with the edge of his cup as he mumbled, “How long have you guys been... seeing each other?”

You burst out laughing, surprising him. "Me and Derek? No, no, no," you said, waving your hands dismissively as you continued to chuckle. "He’s my best friend. That’s all."

“Oh," he nodded, clearly unsure. "I just thought—”

But you cut him off before he could finish, handing him his tea with a small smile. “Tea’s ready. Here.” Your voice was soft but awkward as you backed out of the kitchen. “See you out there.”

With that, you made your way back to the brunch party, leaving Spencer standing in the kitchen, processing what had just happened.

That was the end of your conversation for the day, but it was enough for him. Spencer’s heart felt lighter than it had in weeks.

He could work with this.

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

tag list <333 @yokaimoon @khxna @noelliece @dreamsarebig @sleepey-looney @cocobean16 @placidus @criminalmindssworld @lilu842 @greatoperawombategg @charismatic-writer @fxoxo @hearts4spensco @furrybouquettrash @kathrynlakestone @chaneladdicted @time-himself @mentallyunwellsposts @sapph1re @idefktbh17 @gilwm @reggieswriter @loumouse @spencerreidsreads @i-live-in-spite @fanfic-viewer @bootylovers44 @atheniandrinkscoffee @niktwazny303 @dead-universe @hbwrelic @kniselle @cynbx @danielle143 @katemusic @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @laurakirsten0502 @geepinky @mxlviaa @libraprincessfairy @fortheloveofgubler @super-nerd22 @k-illdarlings @softestqueeen @eliscannotdance @pleasantwitchgarden @alexxavicry @ill-be-okay-soon-enough @criminal-spence @navs-bhat @taygrls

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annafayeink · 3 months ago

Text

All I Ever Wanted

Summary: After weeks of late nights and playful banter, Lu and his project partner find themselves drinking a little too much on Valentine’s Day and spilling some unfiltered truths.

Warnings & tags: Friends to Lovers, Fluff, College AU, Mutual Pining, Drunken Confessions, Truth or Dare Gone Wrong (or Right?), STEM Nerds in Love, One-Sided Pining (but not really)

Wordcount: 11217 (it's a long one for me...)

Read on AO3

The hum of the computer lab had become their second heartbeat through weeks of late-night debugging sessions, endless energy drinks and heated debates over syntax errors.

Lu leaned back in his chair. The flickering glow of monitors cast a tired haze over his face as he stretched his arms over his head with a groan. “I swear, if I have to debug one more line of code, I’m gonna start throwing things,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes.

Across the table, his project partner smirked, barely glancing up from her screen. “That’s funny. I was just thinking about how much fun it would be to fix your broken code for the third time today.”

Lu scoffed, spinning in his chair to face her. “Excuse me, but my code is art."

She snorted. "Your code could be catching flames in a paper bag on someone’s porch, and you know it."

He laughed out loud, but exhaustion weighed on both of them. The project was nearly done, but the stress of perfecting it had left them both frayed at the edges.

“Alright, I think… I think that should do it,” she muttered, sitting back and running a hand down her face. Her hair was slightly disheveled, and the oversized hoodie she wore had slipped off one shoulder, revealing the strap of her tank top. “Run the test again.”

“You say that every time. You’re like an optimist with Stockholm Syndrome.”

She threw a crumpled candy wrapper at him. “Just do it.”

He smirked and hit the compile button. The two of them leaned in, watching the lines of code execute. A pause—then the program ran cleanly. No errors. No warnings. Just success.

For a moment, they just stared at the screen, the weight of weeks of sleep deprivation, stress, and too much caffeine finally culminating in this single, victorious moment.

Lu grinned. “Holy shit, we did it.”

“We did it!” she echoed, and then to his surprise, she flung herself at him, arms wrapping around his neck in an exuberant hug.

He caught her easily, laughing as he steadied them both. She smelled like vanilla and old books, and for a second, Lu had the ridiculous urge to close his eyes and just breathe her in. Instead, he let his hands settle briefly at her waist before she pulled back.

Then he shook his head, still grinning as he looked at her—really looked at her. The spark in her eyes, the way her nose scrunched slightly when she smiled too hard, the pure, unfiltered joy radiating from her. He felt something settle in his chest, warm and steady, and almost too easy to ignore—if he were the kind of guy who ignored things like this.

“This wouldn’t be possible without you, Pip.”

Her smile softened at the nickname, one he’d given her ages ago when she’d admitted, in passing, that she’d always loved Great Expectations as a kid. Something about underdogs, she’d said. Something about wanting to prove people wrong.

Now, she rolled her eyes but didn’t try to hide the way her lips twitched at the edges. “That’s a lie and you know it.”

“It’s not,” he said, nudging her shoulder with his. “You’re kind of a genius, you know that?”

She scoffed. “Oh, so now you think that? Not when I was sleep-deprived and rambling about recursive functions at 3 AM last week?”

“I mean, that was terrifying, but still impressive.”

“We deserve a break,” she declared, gathering her things. “And since it’s technically still Valentine’s Day…” She checked her phone. “Yeah, not midnight yet. We should celebrate.”

Lu arched a brow. “You wanna celebrate Valentine’s Day?”

“No, dummy.” She shoved her laptop into her bag. “I want to celebrate not wanting to throw myself off a bridge because of this project. Come on, let’s go get drinks. First round’s on me.”

He chuckled, shaking his head, but there was no way he was saying no to spending more time with her. Not when she was already pulling him to his feet, eyes bright with excitement.

“Alright, alright,” he said, letting himself be dragged toward the door. “But if you end up drunk and sobbing about your ex, I’m leaving you at the bar.”

She laughed. “Joke’s on you—I don’t have an ex to sob about.”

Lu paused, watching her for half a second longer than he should have.

Interesting.

They walked side by side through the nearly empty campus streets, the occasional couple passing them, hand in hand, lost in their own little Valentine’s Day world. Pip made a show of gagging at a particularly sappy-looking pair sharing a scarf, and Lu nudged her.

“What, jealous?”

Of that?” Pip made a face. “Please. That’s a level of codependency I aspire to avoid.”

Lu smirked. “Says the girl who texted me at 2 AM last week because she couldn’t decide if an array or a hash table was the better choice for our sorting algorithm.”

“That was important,” she said, pointing a gloved finger at him. “And you were awake, don’t even pretend you weren’t.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, because I knew you’d overthink it until sunrise otherwise.

She sighed dramatically. “See? This is why I keep you around. You know how to manage my spirals.”

Lu smiled fondly at her back as they turned the corner onto the main street where their favorite little bar was tucked between a bookstore and a laundromat. The neon Open sign glowed warmly against the dark, and the window was fogged up from the heat inside.

The bar was just off-campus, a warm little hole-in-the-wall that smelled like whiskey and old wood. It was quieter than usual, probably because everyone with actual Valentine’s Day plans had gone somewhere fancier.

They slid into a booth near the back, ordering beers to start. Then Pip tucked her hands into the pockets of her hoodie, shrugging with a sort of distant look in her eyes. “I just think some people get way too into Valentine’s Day. Like, it’s all manufactured romance, you know? What, you need an official day to be romantic? Either you love someone or you don’t.”

Lu arched a brow. “So what, if you ever fall in love, you’re gonna refuse to celebrate Valentine’s Day out of sheer principle?”

“Obviously.” She shot him a pointed look. “If my hypothetical future partner ever tries to do some over-the-top grand gesture on February fourteenth, I’ll just break up with them out of spite.”

Lu let out a low whistle. “Harsh.”

“Necessary,” she corrected. Then, after a pause, she added, “Though, I guess, if someone really knew me, they’d probably just take me for drinks and let me rant about AI ethics or something.”

Lu laughed. “Ah, yes, the way to your heart—alcohol and an existential crisis.”

“See? You get it.” She grinned at him. “Maybe you should be my Valentine.”

Lu gave a laugh, deciding against analysing why that idea just felt right.

“Okay, but for real,” she said, after their drinks arrived. “If you had a partner, what would you do?”

Lu glanced at her over his beer. “You mean for Valentine’s Day?”

Pip nodded. “Yeah. Say you actually had someone. What’s your move?”

He thought for a second, fidgeting with a peeling corner of the label on his bottle. “I don’t know. I feel like grand gestures are overrated. I’d want to do something that actually means something to them.”

“Like what?”

Lu shrugged. “Depends on the person. Maybe cook for them, or take them somewhere they’ve always wanted to go but never had the time. Or just… spend the day doing nothing together, but in a way that still feels like everything.”

Pip was quiet for a beat, then let out a laugh. “God, that’s disgustingly sweet.”

“You asked,” he pointed out with a shrug.

She took a sip of her beer, and suddenly her eyes lit up with an idea. “Okay, Lu, truth or dare?”

He huffed a laugh. “What are we, twelve?”

“Come on, it’s a classic. And since we don’t have exes to sob about, we might as well make the night interesting.”

He tilted his head, considering. “Fine. Truth."

Pip leaned back, swirling her drink as she considered her options. Then, with a small, mischievous smile, she asked, “What’s something you’ve never told anyone?”

Lu arched a brow, taking a slow sip of his beer. “Damn. You’re going straight for the deep cuts, huh?”

She shrugged. “We’ve been in the trenches together for months now. I think we’re past the what’s your favorite color phase.”

He tapped his fingers against his bottle, thinking. There were plenty of things he didn’t talk about—most of them too boring or too complicated for a casual drinking game. But then, without really meaning to, he found himself saying, “I almost dropped out last year.”

Pip’s brows lifted, her expression shifting from playful to surprised. “Wait. What?”

Lu exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. I mean, I didn’t tell anyone, obviously. But I was seriously thinking about it. Everything felt like too much, you know? The pressure, the expectations, all the shit I thought I was supposed to be able to do but couldn’t. I started wondering if maybe I was just—” He made a vague gesture. “—burning time on something I’d never actually be good enough at.”

Pip didn’t say anything right away. She just watched him, her head tilted slightly, like she was seeing something new in him. Then she said, “What changed your mind?”

He let out a quiet chuckle, taking another sip of his beer. “You, actually.”

Pip’s eyes widened. “Me?”

“Yeah. You remember that night we pulled an all-nighter working on that neural net assignment? I was this close to just walking away from it all. But then you—” He shook his head, grinning at the memory. “You showed up with, like, three energy drinks, a bag of gummy bears, and a completely unhinged rant about how we were not going to let a buggy dataset ruin our futures.”

Pip laughed. “God, I barely remember that. I was so sleep-deprived I think I started speaking in binary at one point.”

“You did. And you know what? It was weirdly inspiring.” Lu smirked. “Somewhere between you threatening to ‘personally fight every faulty training model’ and the moment you fell asleep face-first on your laptop, I figured—yeah. Maybe I should stick around.”

She was quiet for a second, then softened. “I had no idea.”

“Yeah, well.” He shrugged, suddenly feeling a little exposed. “Not exactly my usual small talk.”

Her expression softened, something unreadable flickering behind her eyes. She took another sip of her drink, then pointed at him. “Well, now I feel like my question was too deep. I should’ve just asked what your go-to shower song is or something.”

“Oh, that’s easy. Careless Whisper by George Michael.”

She nearly choked on her beer. “What?”

He shrugged. “I like a little drama in my life.”

Pip burst out laughing, shaking her head. Then, after a beat, she nudged his foot under the table. “Hey, Lu?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m really glad you stuck around.”

Something about the way she said it made his chest feel too small for his ribs. He swallowed, forcing himself to keep his tone light. “Yeah, yeah. You just didn’t want to do all the work yourself.”

“Obviously.” Pip rolled her eyes, but she was smiling.

“Alright, your turn. Truth or dare?”

Pip tapped her nails softly against the neck of her bottle, considering. Then she lifted her chin, a lazy smirk curling at the edges of her lips. “Truth.”

Lu took a sip of his drink, thinking. There were plenty of things he could ask—light, teasing things. But the way she’d looked at him when he admitted almost dropping out was still sitting heavy in his chest. He wanted to ask something real.

So he set his glass down and asked, “What’s something you regret not doing?”

Pip hesitated. For the first time that night, she didn’t immediately have a comeback. Instead, she bit her lip, looking down at the condensation sliding down the side of her bottle.

Lu tilted his head. “Too deep?”

She let out a short laugh. “No, it’s just…” She exhaled, swirling her drink. “I think I regret not being braver about the things I want.”

Lu’s brows lifted slightly. “Like what?”

Pip’s fingers curled around her beer, but when she looked up at him, her gaze held something just out of his reach. “Like saying things when I should.”

Something in his chest tightened. He could feel it—the edge of something unspoken between them, something that had been there longer than either of them had probably wanted to admit.

But then, just as quickly, Pip rolled her shoulders back, shaking it off. She raised her drink in his direction. “But hey, that’s what alcohol is for, right? Liquid courage.”

Lu chuckled, but the moment wasn’t entirely gone. He could still feel it, humming beneath the surface.

“Your turn,” she said like she was in a hurry to change the subject.

He studied her for a second longer than he should have, trying to read the things she wasn’t saying. Then, deciding not to push—not yet, at least—he leaned back with a smirk. “Dare.”

Pip exhaled, looking relieved at the shift in topic. But then a slow grin took over her face, and she leaned in, eyes dancing with mischief. “Alright, Lu. I dare you to go up to the bartender and ask for a Valentine’s Special—without knowing what’s in it.”

Lu chuckled. “That’s the best you’ve got?”

“Oh, you’ll regret saying that,” she teased. “Now go. Let’s see if you can handle whatever monstrosity they serve you.”

He shook his head, pushing himself up from the booth. “If I end up drinking something pink and covered in whipped cream, I might throw up on you.”

She just grinned, watching him go. But as he crossed the room, she caught herself staring at his back a little too long, her fingers still absently tracing an abstract pattern on the condensation on the bottle.

God. She was in trouble.

They kept drinking, falling back into their usual rhythm—trading stories, daring each other to say ridiculous things to the bartender, laughing too loudly. The bar started to blur at the edges, warm and hazy. Pip’s laugh got looser, her touches lingered longer—fingers brushing against his wrist, knees touching under the table.

Pip wasn’t completely gone, but tipsy enough that she was a little too loose, a little too open. And she had a habit of getting sentimental when she drank—something Lu found stupidly endearing.

“Go on,” Lu said. “Which one?”

She hummed, tilting her head like she was having trouble making a decision. Then she flashed him a lazy grin. “Dare. But make it like… Something that would make future-you cringe when you think about it.”

He let out a low chuckle, swirling the last of his drink. “Alright. I dare you to tell me a secret.”

Pip narrowed her eyes. “That’s too easy.”

“Oh, I’m not done.” Lu leaned forward, his smirk turning sharper. “I dare you to tell me a secret… about me.”

Pip faltered.

She opened her mouth, then closed it, rolling her lips together like she was physically stopping words from spilling out.

Lu watched her, pulse ticking up just slightly. He hadn’t planned this to be a trap, but suddenly, it felt like one.

Pip let out a slow breath, tapping her nails against the rim of her glass. Then, carefully, she said, “You’re a lot more important to me than I let on.”

Lu didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.

Pip gave him a small, almost hesitant smile. “That count as a secret?”

He should laugh. Tease her. Turn this into something easy and light, the way they always did.

But he couldn’t.

Not when her words were still hanging in the air between them, too big, too real.

He swallowed. “Pip…”

“Wait.” She lifted a hand. “There’s a second part.”

Pip swirled her glass around as if she was trying to find the answer on the bottom. “Dare.”

“I dare you to tell me something you’d only say if you weren’t worried about what happens next.”

Pip blinked with heavy eyelids. This was a dangerous dare. But wasn’t it exactly what she was hoping for?

Her fingers tightened slightly around her empty, and for a moment, she didn’t speak. The bar noise seemed to quiet around them, everything narrowing down to just her and him, the warm glow of the lights reflecting in her eyes.

Pip let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. Then she reacher for his drink and took a long sip, trying to gather her thoughts and get some of that much needed liquid courage.

“Alright,” she said, set the glass down in front of him again. Her voice was quieter now, almost thoughtful. “I think about you. More than I should.”

Lu stilled, as if the tiniest movement could shatter the moment.

Pip traced the rim of her coaster with her fingertip, not looking at him. “Like, when something good happens, you’re the first person I want to tell. And when something bad happens, I wonder if you’d make me laugh about it. And when I see something stupid—like a weird-looking pigeon or a meme so dumb it makes me lose brain cells—I think, Lu would get this.” She let out a quiet chuckle, finally meeting his gaze. “And I don’t know what that means, but it’s been happening for a while.”

Lu’s throat was dry. His fingers curled into fists beneath the table.

It took everything in him to keep his voice steady when he said, “That’s a pretty good answer.”

Pip smiled, just barely. “Yeah?”

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping lower. “Yeah.”

Her breath hitched. Just a little.

And then, before he could think too hard about it, before he could do something reckless, Pip abruptly stood up.

“I need another drink.”

Lu blinked. “Pip—”

But she was already heading to the bar.

Lu let out a long breath, dragging a hand down his face. His heart was pounding, and not from the alcohol.

When she came back, Pip took a very long sip of her drink even before she sat down. Then she asked him something else in a lighthearted tone.

But her eyes weren’t quite meeting his anymore.

Lu could see it—how she was trying to brush past what she’d just said, how she was treating it like some offhand joke. But her fingers were tapping against her glass, and her lips were pressed together like she was thinking too hard.

Pip had gone quiet. Not her usual, thinking-through-a-bug kind of quiet, but something else. Something heavier. She was staring at her drink like it held the answers to the universe, absentmindedly tracing patterns with her fingertip. Lu watched her, feeling the weight of whatever was about to happen settle in his chest.

He let it sit for a moment, waiting to see if she’d say something else.

She didn't.

She just exhaled and kept playing, making sure the truths and dares turned playful for a while, like an entirely different conversation.

Somewhere between another round of drinks, another round of questions—some deep, some ridiculous, some only half-answered through laughter—Pip started leaning into him more. At first, it was casual. Her shoulder brushing against his when she laughed too hard. Her fingers catching his arm when she emphasized a point. But then her head dipped onto his shoulder, and instead of pulling away, she stayed there.

Lu went still.

He should move. He should say something.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he turned slightly, just enough to glance down at her. Pip, eyes half-lidded, hair falling over her cheek, looking content and maybe just a little drunk.

“You good, Pip?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

She hummed. “Mhm.”

“You wanna call it a night?”

She shook her head. “Not yet.”

Her fingers played absently with the hem of her sleeve, and for a moment, she was silent.

“You wanna stop playing?”

“No, no, we haven't embarrassed ourselves enough,” she slurred slightly, with a smirk. “Truth or dare?”

Lu, also feeling warm from the alcohol, smirked. “Truth.”

She squinted at him like she was trying to focus. “Would you ever—” She cut herself off, frowning. Then shook her head. “No. Wait. I don’t wanna ask that.”

Lu arched a brow. “You can’t start a question and not finish it.”

Pip groaned, dropping her head onto the table. “Ugh, I don’t know. My brain-to-mouth filter is completely broken right now.”

Lu chuckled, watching Pip war with herself, her forehead still pressed against the table. She let out a dramatic sigh, then lifted her head, squinting at him through slightly unfocused eyes.

“Okay, fine,” she mumbled, waving a hand in his general direction. “Would you ever… I mean, have you ever thought about…”

Lu leaned in slightly, resting his chin on his hand. “Thought about what?”

She let out a frustrated groan, scrunching up her face like she was trying to will the words out of her mouth. Then, suddenly, she blurted, “Would you ever date me?”

Suddenly it felt like there was not enough oxygen in the room. Lu took a deep breath, but it was shaky and didn't quite fill his lungs.

Pip immediately sucked in a breath, eyes widening. “Nope. Nope, that wasn’t—I mean, not that it’s a bad question, it’s just—”

Lu tilted his head, watching her completely spiral.

“Would I ever date you?” he repeated, pretending to consider it.

She groaned, covering her face with her hands. Then she peeked at him through her fingers, scowling.

Lu exhaled, leaning back against the booth. He swallowed, throat feeling like sandpaper. “You want an answer or not?”

Pip hesitated, then nodded once, slowly.

His smirk faded just slightly, and when he spoke, his voice was quieter. More certain. “Yeah. I’d date you.”

Pip blinked. She seemed to short-circuit for a second. Then she narrowed her eyes, suspicious. “Are you just saying that to mess with me?”

Lu shrugged. “I don’t say things I don’t mean.”

Pip just stared at him. Her mouth opened slightly, then shut again. Then—she grabbed her drink and downed about half of it.

Lu raised a brow. “Something you wanna say?”

She set the glass down a little harder than necessary. “No. I just—” She exhaled, shaking her head. “You can’t just say things like that.”

“Why not?”

“Because!”

“That’s not an answer.”

Pip scowled at him—kinda. Her eyes were hazy, but searching. “Okay, but like—why?”

Lu frowned slightly. “Why what?”

“Why would you… you know.” She gestured vaguely between them. “Date me.”

Lu considered her for a moment. Then he leaned forward, resting his arms on the table, and said, “Because you’re you.”

Pip inhaled sharply.

Lu shrugged, playing it off like his heart wasn’t suddenly racing. “You’re smart. You’re funny. And you make me feel like I actually know what the hell I’m doing—even when I don’t.” He met her gaze, steady and unflinching. “So, yeah. I’d date you.”

Pip was completely silent.

For a long, stretching moment, she just stared at him, her lips slightly parted, as if she’d forgotten how to speak. Lu couldn’t tell if she was about to laugh, call him a liar, or throw her drink in his face.

“…That’s not fair,” she finally muttered.

Lu smirked. “What’s not fair?”

She exhaled, shaking her head, staring at the table like it held the answers. “You. Saying stuff like that. Being like that.”

“Like what?”

Pip let out a short, breathy laugh, rubbing a hand over her face. Then, before she could stop herself, she said, “Like someone I can’t imagine my life without.”

Lu blinked.

Pip groaned, shaking her head. “God, I should not be drinking right now.”

Lu leaned in, curiosity sparking, his heart thrumming like it wanted to escape his chest. “What does that mean?”

Pip hesitated, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass. “It means—” She sighed, then looked up at him with a kind of tired fondness. “It means I like you, okay? I like… how you always act like nothing gets to you, but you care so much it’s ridiculous. I like that you always notice when I’m stressed before I even say anything. I like that you walk me home when we stay late at the lab and pretend it’s just because ‘you needed air.’”

Lu exhaled slowly, dizzy, heart hammering in his throat and ears and just everywhere.

But Pip wasn’t done.

“I like that you’re secretly the biggest softie,” she went on, her words getting a little looser, a little warmer, like the dam had finally broken. “Like when you always give the stray cat outside the library part of your sandwich, even though you pretend you don’t like cats.”

Lu huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “It’s not my fault, he just looks at me like that.”

Pip chuckled, looking down at her drink. “I like how you talk with your hands when you’re explaining something. And when you’re focusing really hard, you do a little pouty thing with your lips, it’s adorable.”

Lu just stared. He didn’t know if he was breathing.

Pip leaned forward slightly, propping her elbows on the table. “You remember last semester, when my laptop crashed the night before that huge deadline?”

He snorted. “Yeah. You were ready to fight God.”

She pointed at him. “Exactly. I was losing my mind. But you just—” She shook her head. “You showed up with your old laptop, somehow got my files recovered, and then you stayed up with me the whole night just to make sure I finished everything.”

Lu shrugged like it was nothing. “Well, yeah. What was I gonna do, not help?”

“That’s the thing,” Pip said softly. “You don’t even think about it. You just do things like that.”

Lu exhaled, breath ragged like he just ran a marathon, and shifted slightly in his seat. “I mean, you do the same for me.”

Pip sighed. “Yeah, I would do it for you. But you do it for anyone who needs it. You don't mind staying up all night helping people study or finish their projects. You bring them snacks and drinks. You never let anyone sit alone in the lab when they look stressed. ”

Lu was speechless, just staring at her with his mouth slightly opened in surprise.

“Or—” she gestured vaguely, her voice softer now, “—how you knew I was about to crash last semester and left a stupid energy drink in my locker with a note that just said ‘Don’t die, Pip.’”

His mind scrambled for a response but words failed him. He didn’t even remember doing that. Lu opened his mouth, then closed it, caught completely off guard.

Pip kept going, oblivious to the fact that she was absolutely wrecking him.

“Do you even know how stupidly likable you are? You’re just— You walk into a room and people like you. And..” She hesitated for a heartbeat. “And I like that you’re way too competitive about stupid things. Like Mario Kart. Or rock-paper-scissors.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle, both at what she said and as a nervous reaction to her entire speech. “That’s called having integrity, Pip.”

She rolled her eyes but kept going. “I like the way you say my full name when you’re being serious.” She swallowed. “I like the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”

His eyes widened at the revelation. Pip let the words sink in for a moment. Then she picked up her metaphorical shovel and kept digging the hole.

“Yeah, I really like your eyes. Which is annoying because when you look at me a certain way, my brain just turns into the blue screen of death, and—” She broke off, shaking her head. Then she let out a small, slightly tipsy laugh. “Also I really like your hands.”

Lu’s brain felt like a completely fried motherboard. He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply, buying himself a second to think.

Pip smiled, just slightly. Like she wasn’t just putting all of this out there, months—maybe years—of pent up feelings she had hidden from him.

“You have, like, objectively nice hands,” she continued, frowning slightly like this was important information. “They’re big but not, like, weirdly big, and you do this thing where you crack your knuckles when you’re thinking and—”

“Pip,” Lu interrupted, his voice slightly strained.

She blinked up at him, like she hadn’t noticed she was rambling. “What?”

Lu exhaled, scrubbing a hand down his face. “You can’t just say all that.”

“Why not?”

“Because—” He hesitated, shaking his head. “Because it means something.”

Pip stared at him. Then, very softly, she whispered, “It does.”

Lu’s chest tightened.

Pip suddenly looked like she wanted to shrink into the floor. “I should shut up now.”

Lu huffed a breath, shaking his head. She was drunk. Really drunk. She probably didn’t even know what she was saying. “You should.”

But she didn’t. Instead, she let out a breath, barely above a whisper.

“You’re kind of the best person I know,” she murmured.

Lu blinked. “What?”

Pip glanced up at him, eyes a little too bright, a little too earnest. Vulnerable. “You’re a really good person, Lu.” And then, after a pause. “…You’re all I ever wanted." She looked down and shook her head. "I’m sorry I can’t say it sober.”

Silence.

The bar noise felt distant, like it wasn’t even real anymore. Just the sound of her breathing, unsteady, and little too fast.

Lu gripped his drink like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

She wasn’t laughing anymore.

She wasn’t playing anymore.

The words hung in the air between them, delicate and irreversible.

Then, as if realizing what she’d just said, Pip sucked in a sharp breath, eyes going wide, glassy and slightly unfocused. “Oh, shit,” she whispered.

Lu just stared at her.

Pip covered her mouth with both hands, looking absolutely horrified. “I should not have said that.”

Lu blinked, dazed, still processing the fact that she had said that.

Pip groaned, dropping her head onto the table. “Lu, forget what I said”

“Yeah, that’s not happening.”

Pip let out a pained noise.

Lu exhaled, scrubbing a hand down his face. His chest felt too tight, his mind spinning too fast. He should say something, acknowledge it, tell her—

No.

He couldn’t let himself answer. Not here. Not now. Not while she was like this.

He needed to think. He needed to get those drinks away from her and get her home.

Lu stood abruptly, tossing some cash onto the table. “Come on, drunkie. Let’s get you back before you start reciting poetry or something.”

Pip groaned, still face-down on the table.”I regret all my choices.”

Lu smirked, despite the storm raging in his chest. He bent down and grabbed her hand, tugging her up. “Come on, you need to get some rest.”

She groaned again but didn’t resist when he pulled her to her feet, steadying her with an arm around her shoulders.

And as they stepped out into the cold Valentine’s night, biting and sobering, Lu kept hearing it over and over again.

You’re all I ever wanted.

And fuck if that didn’t ruin him.

Pip shivered, wobbling only slightly before leaning into Lu’s side without thinking. He tightened his grip around her shoulders, steadying her as they made their way down the quiet street.

The city had started to wind down—most people already home, tucked away with their dates, their lovers, their Valentine’s plans.

Lu exhaled, his breath curling white in the air. His mind kept looping back to her words.

She probably wouldn’t even remember saying it. And maybe that was a good thing. Maybe he should pretend he didn’t hear it. But fuck, it was hard when she was right here, pressed against him, trusting him enough to lean her weight into him like he was something solid, something safe.

She let out a soft sigh, tilting her head against his shoulder.

“You’re warm,” she murmured, burrowing against him. “Like a space heater.”

Lu huffed a quiet laugh. “From project partner to household appliance. Quite a step up!”

“Totally.” Her fingers curled into the fabric of his jacket, her cheek resting against his shoulder.

Lu swallowed hard, forcing himself to keep his focus on the sidewalk ahead, on getting her home. Not on the way she felt pressed against him, or the way her voice had wrapped around those words in the bar—You’re all I ever wanted.

It wasn’t far to her dorm, but every step felt like both too much time to think and not nearly enough. Pip was quiet, her usual sharp wit dulled by the alcohol, but she was awake enough to hum under her breath as they walked, something soft and aimless, the way she sometimes did when she thought no one was paying attention.

But Lu always noticed.

When they reached her building, she fumbled in her bag for her keys, her movements slow and uncoordinated. Lu reached over, steadying her hand before she could drop them into the snow.

“Here,” he murmured, plucking them from her fingers. “I got it.”

She hummed in agreement, watching him through half-lidded eyes as he unlocked the door. “Such a gentleman.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He nudged her inside, following her up the stairs to her dorm.

Once inside, Pip immediately beelined for her bed, flopping onto it face-first with a dramatic groan.

Lu chuckled, closing the door behind him. “I see subtlety is dead.”

“Mmhmm,” she mumbled into the pillow.

Lu crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. “So this is how you treat your personal chauffeur, huh? No thank you, no you’re my hero, Lu?”

She lifted a hand lazily and gave him a thumbs-up without lifting her head. “You’re my hero, Lu.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Unbelievable.”

He glanced around the small dorm. It was cluttered but in a way that felt lived-in—books stacked on her desk, a blanket draped haphazardly over her chair, half-finished notes scribbled on sticky pads. It smelled like her.

He sighed, crouching beside the bed to untie her boots.

Pip let out a breathy chuckle. “Wow, I’m getting the royal treatment.”

Lu shook his head, pulling off one boot, then the other. “Don’t get used to it.”

“You always take care of me, Lu.”

His chest ached.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Always.”

She didn’t reply.

“C’mon, Pip, at least get under the covers.”

She let out a grumbling noise but didn’t protest when he pulled the blanket over her.

When he started to move away, she reached out blindly, catching his wrist. “Stay.”

Lu froze.

Pip’s fingers were warm, loose from the alcohol but still firm enough that he knew she meant it.

He swallowed. “Pip—”

“Just… stay,” she murmured. “For a little bit.”

Her gaze flickered over his face, lingering on his lips for a split second too long.

For one agonizing moment, he thought—maybe. But he couldn’t. He was kinda drunk. She was very drunk. Kissing, confessing hidden feelings, cuddling until morning pretending they were just cold—none of it was an option.

Lu exhaled through his nose, running a hand through his hair. He shouldn’t even stay. He should go. He should definitely go.

Instead, he let out a quiet sigh, picked up a spare pillow from her bed and settled onto the floor beside her bed, leaning against the frame.

Her fingers slid from his wrist to his hand, her grip easy and unthinking. Lu glanced down, watching their hands, her palm against his, their fingers brushing.

He should let go.

But he didn’t.

He let his thumb trace over her knuckles absently, grounding himself in the quiet darkness.

And as the room settled into soft breathing and silence, as Pip's fingers curled around his just slightly in sleep, Lu let his head tip back against the bed frame.

Just for tonight.

He could pretend.

Pip stirred with a soft groan, burying her face deeper into her pillow. The room was too bright, the warmth of sleep fading into the slow, creeping realization that her head felt too heavy.

Right. Drinking.

She exhaled, blinking blearily at her dorm ceiling, willing herself to piece together the night before. There had been drinks, laughter, Lu teasing her—

Her fingers twitched, brushing against something solid.

She frowned. Turned her head.

Lu was on the floor beside her bed, slumped against the frame, his breathing slow and even, his hand still loosely tangled with hers.

Pip’s heart stopped.

The pieces of the night were blurry, but this—this was new. Unexpected.

She stared at their joined hands, at the easy way their fingers fit together, like they’d done this a hundred times. A small thrill curled through her chest before panic squashed it.

What the hell happened last night?

Her brain scrambled, reaching for memories that felt just out of focus. The bar. The walk home. Him helping her inside.

She swallowed hard.

Suddenly everything sharpened. The warmth of his hand. The quiet in the room. The way Lu’s breathing shifted just slightly, like he was surfacing from sleep.

And then—his eyes fluttered open.

Pip stiffened.

Lu blinked, slow and groggy, squinting against the morning haze, before turning his head slightly. For a second he just looked at her, his gaze still heavy with sleep.

Then his lips curled, soft and lazy. “Morning, Pip.”

Her stomach flipped.

She cleared her throat, shifting to sit up, head still a bit heavy. “Uh. Morning.”

Slowly, like he didn’t really want to do it, Lu released her hand. Then he stretched, wincing slightly as he rolled his shoulders. “Damn. I think my spine is permanently shaped like your bed frame now.”

Pip let out a breathy laugh, but it was weak. “What… uh. What are you doing here?”

He gave her a look. “You really don’t remember?”

Pip hesitated. “I remember drinking.”

Lu huffed a quiet laugh. “Yeah, no kidding.”

She rubbed her temples. “Did I… did I say anything stupid?”

For half a second, Lu didn’t answer. Then he smirked, tilting his head. “Define stupid.”

Pip groaned again, finally dropping her hands to look at Lu. There was something almost hesitant in the way she studied him. Like something was off.

“…Did I?” she asked, quieter this time.

Lu hesitated.

Because he could tell her. He could say yeah, Pip, you told me you loved me and wrecked my entire existence in three seconds flat.

Or—

“Nah,” he said instead, stretching his arms over his head, stomping all over the memories like he wanted to grind them into dust. “Just your usual brand of nonsense.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You’re lying.”

“Am I?”

“You do this thing with your face when you’re lying.”

His heart was starting to speed up. “Pip, I’m literally just existing.”

She groaned, rubbing at her temple again. “Whatever. I feel like I got hit by a truck.”

“That truck was three vodka sodas and a bunch of other bad decisions.”

She let out a quiet laugh, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Lu noticed, but didn’t mention it.

Pip yawned, pulling the blanket over one shoulder. “You didn’t have to stay, you know.”

“Yeah, well. Didn’t trust you not to roll off the bed and die.” He shrugged, trying to keep his voice light. “Plus, you asked me to.”

She blinked at him, something flickering across her face. “I did?”

“Yeah.” He smirked. “Clung to me like a baby koala, too.”

She groaned. “Great. Love that for me.”

Lu chuckled, but it sounded hollow even to his ears.

Pip didn’t remember. And she had no idea she was breaking his heart.

He exhaled slowly, still blinking sleep away from his eyes. His head was clearer now, last night’s haze dulled to a manageable ache, but his chest still felt tight, weighted by the words that kept replaying in his mind.

You’re all I ever wanted.

She had said it like it was the simplest thing in the world. No hesitation, no doubt. And now she didn’t even know she’d said it.

Lu swallowed it all down. “You should eat something.” His voice was steady, but he was already pushing himself to his feet, removing himself from the situation before she could ask anything else. “I’ll grab you some water.”

And just like that, the moment passed.

But while Lu moved toward the tiny dorm kitchen, Pip frowned slightly, like she was trying to piece something together. Like some part of her knew something had happened, even if she didn’t remember it yet.

Pip sat on the bed, fingers idly rubbing against her palm, as if chasing the phantom feeling of Lu’s hand in hers.

He returned a moment later, setting a glass of water on her nightstand with a pointed look. “Drink slowly. If you throw up all over the place I am not cleaning it up.”

She rolled her eyes but obeyed, taking small, careful sips. The cold water helped clear the fuzziness in her head, but the feeling in her chest—the vague, off sensation, like she was forgetting something important—remained.

For a moment, she just watched Lu move around her room like he’d done this a hundred times before. Something about it felt too easy—like they had always existed in this quiet rhythm, like it wasn’t strange for him to be here, like the warmth still lingering in her hand wasn’t something she should be questioning.

But she was questioning it. Because something was definitely off.

She tried to focus, tried to sort through the messy blur of last night. Bits and pieces surfaced—laughing over drinks, teasing, a conversation about some girl Lu liked.

Her stomach twisted.

Right. That.

She barely noticed Lu setting an energy bar on the nightstand. “Love that you don’t seem to have any real food around here,” he said, casually, before going back to the kitchen.

Pip swallowed hard, watching him move around like nothing changed. Like he wasn’t acting different. Like he wasn’t avoiding looking at her for too long.

He was bracing himself for something. And that—more than anything—confirmed it. She had said something huge. And he heard it, remembered it, and was probably thinking about it.

Pip opened her mouth, then closed it again, her throat too tight. Then she set the water down. “Hey, Lu?”

He looked at her with an unreadable expression. “Yeah?”

She bit her lip. “I did say something stupid last night, didn’t I?”

Lu stilled. It was subtle—so subtle. But Pip knew him well enough to see it. The slight pause. The careful, almost imperceptible shift in his expression.

Pip’s stomach dipped.

Then he exhaled, rolling his shoulders like he was brushing something off, before walking back to her.

“…Define stupid,” he said, echoing his words from earlier.

Pip narrowed her eyes. “You’re so full of shit.”

He had that infuriating smirk on his face again, like he was perfectly fine. Like nothing was wrong when she knew that wasn’t true. “You think I’m just gonna hand over blackmail material that easily?" He scoffed. "Please.”

Pip stared at him, searching his expression for something. A crack, a tell—anything. Because she knew there was something to find.

Lu didn’t flinch. Didn’t look away. But he was still keeping his distance. And very deliberately avoiding a straight answer to her question.

“I feel like… I forgot something important.” She forced a small, shaky breath, tilting her head, testing the waters.

Lu let out an exaggerated sigh, dragging a hand through his hair. “Pip—”

“Lu,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt as she got up from the bed. “Tell me what I said last night. I’m serious.”.

Something flickered in his expression—hesitation, uncertainty. But then he forced a smile, leaning back against the wall next to her bed. “Well, let’s see. You said I’m warm, which is accurate—”

Pip narrowed her eyes. “And?”

“And you threatened to fight a snowman.”

Pip snorted. “Okay, that tracks.”

But she knew that wasn’t the whole truth.

“Oh, and you confessed your undying love for me.” He crossed his arms and smiled at her, like none of this was a big deal.

But Pip just froze.

Lu said it so casually, so playfully, like it was just another one of their jokes. She couldn’t quite tell if he was telling the truth or not.

Her heart stuttered. He’s joking, right? Instinct took over because deflecting was easier, and she let out a half-laugh, shaking her head. “I did not.”

His smile widened. “Oh no, you definitely did. Got down on one knee, proposed right there in the snow. Very dramatic.”

She let out a breathy laugh, shoving his arm. “Shut up.”

Lu grinned, but there was something careful behind his eyes. Something guarded. He let the moment stretch, like he was waiting for something.

Then he shrugged. “Nah, I’m messing with you.” He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, testing her reaction. “But you did ramble about how I have nice hands, which, honestly? The most unnecessarily intimate thing anyone has ever told me.”

Pip blinked. “I what?”

“Oh yeah. Full monologue. Went on for a while.” He glanced at them like he was genuinely contemplating their appeal. “Not gonna lie, I was flattered.”

Pip groaned, pressing the heels of her palms against her eyes. “I hate myself.”

Lu chuckled. “I thought it was sweet.”

She peeked at him through her fingers. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Immensely.”

Pip groaned again, but her mind was racing. Because she knew Lu. She could tell he was doing this on purpose, avoiding the real thing she had said.

She saw it now. Lu wasn’t acknowledging it because he was protecting her—like he always did. He was giving her an out. Letting her brush it off so she wouldn’t have to deal with it.

For a long moment, there was just silence—thick and heavy, wrapping around them like neither of them knew how to break it.

Then there was more—hazy, warm, something heavier curling in her chest. Flashes of cold air, of Lu’s arm around her, steadying her as they walked. Of his voice, softer than usual, saying You can’t just say all that.

Of her saying—

Pip sucked in a breath.

You’re all I ever wanted.

The words crashed over her like a wave, and suddenly, she was too aware of everything—the way her heart was hammering, the way Lu had hesitated when she asked if she’d said anything dumb, the way her fingers could still feel his wrapped around them.

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

Pip didn’t move. Because suddenly, she knew.

Suddenly, she wasn’t just remembering saying it. She was remembering how it felt. And the way he had held her.

The way he had not said it back.

And that was enough to realize that she had said something really very real that changed everything. Something she had never let herself say out loud, even when it was clawing at the edges of her thoughts.

Whatever this was—whatever was sitting heavy between them, waiting to be named—wasn’t something she could brush off.

It had always been there. And for the first time, she wasn’t sure if she could pretend otherwise. It wasn’t something she could take back.

She swallowed hard, fingers twisting in the blanket on her lap. No. Maybe... she could let this slide. She could laugh it off. She could let him keep pretending, keep protecting her from words she’d already said.

Or—

Pip inhaled sharply. “Lu.”

His smirk faltered, just slightly. “Yeah?”

She looked at him, really holding his gaze. Her heart was a hammer in her chest, but she forced the words out. “I meant it.”

Lu’s breath hitched. For the first time since she woke up, he looked thrown. His lips parted slightly, but no words came out.

She inhaled deeply, gathering the courage that felt like a live wire beneath her skin, and just kept going because if she stopped now she’d never say it.

“I remember,” she admitted, voice quiet but firm. “I remember saying that, and I—” She exhaled, gripping the fabric in her lap. “I meant it, Lu.”

For a second, he just stared at her, like he couldn’t believe she had actually said that out loud.

Lu flexed his fingers slightly like he was trying not to react, but she could see it. She knew that movement. It meant he was thinking too hard, feeling too hard.

She bit her lip, her chest tightening. “You didn’t say anything back.”

His gaze flickered to the floor.

Pip swallowed. “Was it because I was drunk?” She hesitated. “Or… because I’m not the girl you were talking about last night?”

Lu let out a breath—sharp, unsteady. His fingers twitched, his jaw tensed. He was still trying to hold something back.

Then, finally, finally, he ran a hand through his hair, looking away for half a second before muttering, “God, Pip.”

She waited.

Something broke in his expression—something raw, something wrecked.

“It was you.” His voice was rough, unsteady. “It’s always been you.”

It felt like the floor was escaping from under her feet.

“I didn’t say anything back because you were drunk and I didn’t think you meant it,” he admitted, voice lower now, rougher, like the words were dragging out of him. “And because… I didn’t think I could handle it if I let myself believe it.”

Pip’s breath caught.

Lu shook his head, exhaling sharply, and looked at her like she was the only thing in the world. “I’m in love with you, Pip. I have been for—God, I don’t even know how long. But I never said anything because I genuinely didn’t think you’d feel the same way.” He hesitated. “I thought if I told you, I’d just lose you.”

Pip felt something break open in her chest. Her pulse thundered like mad in her ears. “Why?”

He let out a small, breathy laugh, shaking his head. “Because of the way you talk about love and relationships. Like it’s something that happens to other people. Like it’s something you don’t care about.”

He paused, and Pip could see the way his chest rose and fell too quickly for someone who was just standing still.

“Because I’ve watched you go on a date with someone, get bored, and never text them back. I just… I figured if you wanted something like this, you would’ve already—”

Pip’s breath hitched. “Lu.”

He exhaled. “Yeah?”

She swallowed. “I didn’t want something like this with anyone else.” Pip let out a nervous laugh, running a shaky hand through her hair. “I mean, look at me. I am horrifically bad at feelings. And I avoided dating because no one ever felt right. And I told myself I wasn’t that kind of person, that I didn’t care about romance, but—” She exhaled. “Maybe I was just lying to myself. Because it wasn’t until you that I started wanting something real.”

Lu inhaled sharply, like he’d forgotten how to breathe properly. His expression had shifted entirely, something new burning behind his eyes.

Pip felt breathless. “And now I’m saying all of this, and I don’t know how to shut up, so if you’re—”

Lu surged forward and kissed her.

Pip gasped against his mouth, barely processing before she was kissing him back, her fingers gripping his shirt, dragging him closer, tilting her head to let him deepen it.

And Lu just melted into it.

His hands found her waist instantly, his lips parting against hers like he had been waiting for this—like he had spent a lifetime holding it back, not letting himself have this, not letting himself want this.

But now she was right there. And she meant it.

And Lu—Lu was so in love with her, he didn’t really know how to breathe anymore.

It was slow and warm and perfect. Like every touch they had ever shared had led to this.

When they finally pulled back, neither of them moved for a second. Their breathing was uneven, their foreheads pressed together, hands still fisted in each other’s clothes. The moment stretched between them, enveloping them, shielding them from the world.

“I love you, Philippa,” he said, barely a whisper.

Her heart skipped a beat.

Lu exhaled, brushing his nose against hers. “And I am so fucking mad at myself for not telling you sooner.”

“Yeah,” she murmured, “you’re a real idiot.” Pip let out a breathless laugh, pressing a soft, almost disbelieving kiss to the corner of his mouth. And then, whispering right against his lips, “I love you too, Luigi.”

Lu chuckled, tilting her chin up to kiss her again, slow and deep, fingers threading into her hair.

And this time—

There was no reason for them to hold anything back.

---

Click here for the tag list! ✨

@straw8erry @belncaldern @starlightslvtt @number1yearner @fancyyanci

#luigi mangione fanfic #luigi mangione fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #my fic #one shot

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hoe-days · 1 month ago

Note

LISTEN UR PROBABLY SICK OF ME BUT I HAVE MORE THOUGHTS AND ILL PUT EM IN A LIST OF NO PARTICULAR ORDER

•so senku’s s/o probably did the whole giant hug thing with him once they broke out of the stone, we all agree. I wholeheartedly think that he took that opportunity to also grab a giant handful of their ass

•senku doesn’t feel insecure per say but I feel like he’s a teeny lil bit bitter if his s/o is ever compliments someones(TSUKASA) strength because he’s like “excuse you now where’s my compliment”

•senku loves any body part that’s squishy, Stanley is an ass or thighs man, xeno isn’t all that interested but he’d probably like boobs/chests or maybe even he’s a waist guy 👀, RYUSUI LOVES EVERYTHING OBVIOUSLY

•ryusui has approached senku and s/o with the proposal of them having a three way relationship but like it’s those two dating her and not each other and senku was just like NOPE because he’s kinda greedy frfr

•Yo is a literal dingus so he probably didn’t even realize s/o and senku were together and tried to be “smooth” with her multiple times

•Stanley likes to leave bite marks, xeno probably leaves one or two hickies, senku lets s/o leave hickies on him SOMETIMES

Okay anyways I’d love to hear your opinions on all these BYEEEEEEE -🐌

I WILL NEVER GET TIRED OF YOU SNAIL ANON I LOVE WHEN PEOPLE SEND THESE TO ME

——

OKAY SO Senku would do that, just to be annoying. He wouldn’t make a big scene, but he’d pinch it and be like “Now that you’re here let’s get to work. We’ll get things done 2x faster.”

Senku for the most part won’t care, but he’d be a bit annoyed, at the end of the day he’s a man with pride. He’d somehow turn it into teasing you and would just be like, “If you like Tsukasa so much why don’t you ask him and his muscles to make sodium carbonate for you.”

“I don’t even need baking soda right now, what are you on about?”

Senku loves the squishy bits for sure, he’s spent countless days just lying his head on his s/o’s lap to rest his eyes because he stared at his computer too long while running calculations.

Stanley is from the south that man loves himself a nice ass. He can and will smack it when you least expect and that shit will sting. And for Xeno I can see him being a leg man. He’s a big fan of sitting down with his s/o’s legs across his lap so he can rub them while he works. Also legs are elegant. Ryusui is the type to kiss and nibble all over. He leaves nothing untouched.

Senku would 100% stare at Ryusui crazy for walking up to him and saying something like that

At first he’d ask if Ryusui is serious, then he’d tell him S/O has their hands full enough with him and science. (Though it’s possible under certain circumstance)

Yo def tries to get fresh with S/O, even if he gets ignored. He’d absolutely think it’s working too💀 S/O would ask him to do something and he’d just be like “Yeah they want me.” Senku just deadpans. Cause on one end S/O is getting Yo to do more, but on the other end S/O isn’t trying to in the first place.

Stanley bites and will be a shit about it. You could just be lying in bed, looking at your phone while on your stomach and he’d bite the hell out of your ass cheek. Then walk away like he didn’t do anything.

As I mentioned earlier, Xeno likes legs and he loves to kiss them when he feels like it. While rare, most marks he leaves would be on your thighs.

I can’t decide with Senku😭either he wouldn’t want you to or he wouldn’t care and would gaslight anyone that pointed it out. He wouldn’t even have a reason to, he would just to mess with them.

(My mind went blank on the Senku ones ngl, but they make sense too😭)

#dr stone #ishigami senku #senku x reader #stanley snyder #xeno houston wingfield #dcst brainrot #xeno x reader #stanley x reader

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0097linersb · 7 months ago

Text

DESPERADO

Pairings: Jaehyun x Reader

Genre: Idk tbh kind of drama kind of angsty probs smut

Summary: Sitting in an old Monte Carlo.

A/N: GUYS gUESS WHAT!! I wrote this when I was like 17, over 7 years ago lol but I found it on my old computer and I kind of like it for some reason???? BUT THIS IS SUCH A CLICHE OMG A MAFIA AU SHOWSTOPPING NEVER BEEN DONE BEFORE!! Alsoo this will be really short, 3-4 chaps max

Chapter 1

You could feel all eyes on you, burning holes into your skin as you entered the Diner. The whole room suddenly went quiet as soon as you closed the glass door behind you – But that could also be an illusion caused by the loud thumping deep in your ears.

You force yourself to walk to the farthest booth available, praying your wobbly legs would not fail you like you felt they would, trying to ignore the whispers from the workers; It was kind of indecorous, but you could understand it given the situation. A young woman, in her pretty pink uniform, carefully approached your table. She looked kind, even worried maybe.

“Can I get you something?” She nervously asked and you felt thankful she did not ask you any personal questions.

“A chocolate milkshake, please.”

Your voice was trembling and barely there but the waitress excused herself as you went back to ripping a napkin into dozens of small pieces, unable to get your hands to stop fidgeting. You probably wouldn’t be able to hold anything down in your stomach but you just needed to try and get your mind to stop screaming for a few minutes. The sun was setting and the darkness taking over the sky made you even more anxious, letting you know they already had enough time to realize what was going on. Every car that passed outside made you nervously look up and slide even further down your seat like it would help you hide. You should have changed, you would attract less attention then - At the same time, it’s not like you had an option, really.

You jumped when the waitress, Moira said her nametag, placed the brown drink in front of you. You felt like throwing up at the sight but slowly forced yourself to swallow the cold liquid, despite your body’s complaints. It was a small town, not far enough, news of your whereabouts wouldn’t take long to reach their ears. You had to go somewhere, soon.

 You didn’t have enough money for a ticket out of state - You barely had enough money to pay for the milkshake you ordered. The car you had stollen didn’t have enough gas to take you anywhere and even if it did, you didn’t have the ability to drive it any farther than you had already struggled to do. You hands shaked as you cursed yourself for not thinking things through.

You wondered about your mother; she was most likely crying.

No, she was definitely crying. You would be too in her place. If the adrenaline wasn’t rushing through your body to keep you alert, you would probably be in tears right now. It was not like you to cry, but you could find an excuse for yourself considering you were facing a life or death (mainly death) situation. You just hoped they had enough consideration for you to give you a simple death, enough for your mom to be able to look at your lifeless body without screaming in panic - Something about knowing you were minutes away from a gun barrel pointed at your head brought out the cliché poet in you.

“You should follow the road up north; it doesn’t have a pretty scenery but it’s by far the fastest way to get to the Interstate,” Moira’s conversation with a man three booths down from yours suddenly caught your attention, ears perking up.

“Is there a hotel close by?” The owner of the deep voice asked.

“There’s only one downtown, we don’t get many tourists around here. There are also some motels around two cities up.”

“Perfect, thank you.”

Your eyes widened when the stranger stood up, you didn’t have much time to think. You hurriedly went through your bag, trying to find some coins to leave in the table beside your half-finished drink before running out of the door as fast as you could, tripping more than once over your long dress as you crossed the parking lot after what seemed to be your last hope.

“Wait!” You screamed at the man opening the door of his car.

He stared at you in surprise and you tried to catch your breath, managing to let out a tangled “Take me with you.”

“Excuse me?” His eyebrows furrowed. He didn’t look very pleased to be interrupted.

“Please. I need to get out of state,” You pleaded.

“I’m sorry. I can’t get caught in a runaway bride’s drama at the moment,” The stranger apologized with a dismissive nod of his head before resuming the motion to enter his car.

“Wait. I have a car, an expensive one. You can have it!”

“I already have a car, as you can see. Good luck, though.”

“Please,” Your voice breaks as you beg, volume barely above a whisper. That man was all you had. “They are going to kill me.”

The tall male in front of you examined you from bottom to top in silence and you felt yourself cowering under his tense jaw, which was ironic considering the people you were used to being around. It was when you felt tears starting to sting your eyes that the man took a deep annoyed breath and ended with a cold, “Get in.”

“Thank you so much,” You finally let out all the air you were holding, hurrying to the passenger seat before he could change his mind.

You were silent as the man started the car and drove out of the Diner’s parking lot, his harsh gaze showing you he didn’t want to be bothered. You closed your eyes and tried to regulate your breathing, repeating to yourself it was all going to be fine; they wouldn’t be able to catch you if you kept moving. When you felt your heart rate slowing down, you finally let your eyelids fly open, watching the white skirt of your dress (which was now black from dirt) in disgust. It was a beautiful dress, big and flamboyant, you were sure it cost a lot of money – You just wished you were someone who wanted to wear it.

You realized you still had the veil positioned carefully on your hair, although it was probably crooked and ripped by now. You harshly untangled the pins from your strands and rolled the window down, throwing the white fabric out on the road before closing the glass again. The man next to you watched in amusement but still didn’t say a word. You wished you could sleep, something you haven’t done in weeks – But you didn’t think you would be able to for a while. Your quick naps out of exhaustion were getting you through the days. Barely.

At least the sky was pretty, a dark purple with little shiny dots all over. The moon was nowhere to be found, maybe it was ashamed of you too.

“Ugly fiancé?” The man’s voice surprised you. It was clear he was trying to humor you, but his expression didn’t match his tone.

“I wish,” You sighed, leaning your head back in the seat and forcing your voice to work. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Jaehyun.”

“Nice to meet you, Jaehyun. Please don’t be a serial killer.”

“It seems like that would be the least of your problems.”

“I guess you’re right,” You smiled, but it did not reach your eyes. You took another deep breath before asking, “What are you running away from?”

“Who says I’m running from something?”

“Why would you ask what’s the fastest way out of town if you weren’t?”

“Maybe I don’t like traffic.”

“Traffic in this area? I’m desperate but I’m not stupid. Did you actually kill someone? I was only joking -”

“My personal business concerns you as much as yours concerns me.”

“I’m not frugal with my secrets.”

“Entertain me then.”

“It’s barely as fascinating as it seems: My family’s business had me entangled with some dangerous people who forced me into a commitment I was not interested in partaking in, none of the parties will be very happy with my little rebellious act.”

“Are you really putting your life at risk just to not be part of society’s patriarchal plot?”

“This is hardly about that, although I wouldn’t expect you to understand, as a man. Plus, my life would be at stake anyways; At least like this, I can worry from a distant beautiful beach, with a sweet cold drink in hand, instead of being fucked by a man who wouldn’t mind killing me one bit. I was thinking about Mexico.”

“If they are anywhere as powerful as you describe, it would not be hard to find you there.”

“Right. Maybe Brazil then, who knows?” You shrugged, knowing these were all insane dreams you were probably never going to be able to experience. It was fun to amuse yourself. “What about you, where are you going?”

“Far.”

“So mysterious,” You roll your eyes. “It’s not like I can afford going out babbling about your plans.”

“I’d rather not give you the chance.”

“Suit yourself. Thank you once again for the ride.”

Jaehyun only nodded.

As you watched the cities pass in silence, you noticed your throat was very dry, but you imagined you must be arriving at your destination if the man next to you was following Moira’s tips. It was already late and your whole body ached, the adrenaline’s effect fading bit by bit as you tried to fool yourself that you were safe.

“Why are you helping me, knowing I’m involved with dangerous people?” You wondered. Truthfully, you knew it was a stupid question since you were the one begging for his help, you just wanted to hear him talk more, his deep voice made your vision stop spinning for a few seconds.

“I can fight,” He shrugged. Again with the toneless jokes.

“I don’t think fists would be very useful against the Kim family,” You chuckle at the absurdity, you probably had all local thugs looking for you as you spoke.

Who would have thought this is how your life would turn out?

“Who said I don’t have guns?” He smirked at you for the first time, and you just stared at him, an unreadable look on your face that made him slightly nervous. “Don’t act surprised, you’re the one who entered a stranger’s car.”

“I’m not. I was about to marry Kim Doyoung, weapons don’t shock me,” You sigh, hiding the fact you had a handgun (which you had stolen from your fiancé's collection) in your purse - Maybe you would need it, Jaehyun could turn out to be, in fact, a serial killer after all.

“Kim Doyoung, huh? You really got yourself in a big mess. His father isn’t someone to play with.”

“Do you know him?”

“I met him briefly for a business transaction a few years back.”

“Your line of work just keeps sounding shadier and shadier, should I be worried?”

“You tell me, you’re the mafia’s doll.”

“You’re really thinking about handing me over and asking for a reward, aren’t you?” You squeezed your eyes at the man.

“Maybe,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone but you knew he wasn’t being serious, as you were indeed, heading North. Regardless, growing up with your family taught you to never trust anyone.

You caught yourself pitying your mother once again when Jaehyun slowed his car into a Motel’s parking lot with a simple “We’re here.”

You languidly nodded and got out of the vehicle, stretching your sore limbs before staring at the man in front of you in expectation.

“Don’t look at me like that,” He shook his head and opened the trunk of the car to get his luggage. “I’m booking myself a room and you can go on your merry way; it was nice meeting you.”

“I have nowhere to go.”

“Luckily for you, we are in the perfect place for you to spend the night.”

“Do I look like I have any money?” You rolled your eyes.

“Well, not my problem,” He shrugged, closing the trunk and making his way towards the building’s reception. “I’m sure you can find a gentleman that would be very happy to pay to spend the night with you.”

“Can’t I just sleep with you?” You ignored his suggestion of prostitution, not judging it worthy of your attention.

“And have the Kims knowing that not only did I help their pretty bride in her escape, but also shared a bed with her?” He quickly turned around so you could see how his chest rumbled with laughter before going back on his way. “Funny.”

Why was he being so complicated?

You quickly looked around to see if anyone could possibly be watching, but decided it was dark enough for your foolish just-thought-out plan. You were not really proud of what you did next but, in your excuse, you truly were desperate and the way your mind was all over the place didn’t help you make much sense of the situation.

“Jaehyun,” You called, purse briefly discarded on the floor next to you.

The man sighed and turned back once again, but he stopped laughing when he saw you – Jaehyun’s face flashed in shock for a single second before it morphed into an amused expression instead. Head cocked to the side; he surprised you as he leisurely started approaching your figure once again.

“Oh, princess,” He lowly chuckled at your shaking grip on the gun’s handle. “If you’re going to point that at me, you better know how to use it.”

“Take me wherever you’re going with you,” You demanded, ignoring his remark. You weren’t actually going to shoot him, you just wanted to, to… - this really wasn’t a well-thought-out plan.

“I truly can’t, but I appreciate the passion,” He smiled, raising his hand to calmly aim the gun at the floor instead of at his chest.

 You simply used the side of the weapon to slap his hand away before pointing it back where you wanted it, “Why not?”

“I’m heading across the ocean.”

“That sounds perfect, I’m sure you can manage to get me some fake documentation like you probably did for yourself.”

“And what do I get out of it?”

“My company. Also, I do know how to shoot.”

“Do you really?” He raised an eyebrow at you, staring at you like you were the most entertaining thing he had ever seen in his whole life.

It was unnerving.

“Yes. I can help you with whatever dubious business you have, I’m a fast learner,” You inform, not really knowing what you were offering yourself for, but figuring anything would be better than being the mafia’s bitch.

“C’mon,” He rolled his eyes, but let out a delighted chuckle anyways when he turned around. You knew he was making fun of you, but it didn’t matter, it got you what you wanted. “And put that thing away.”

You hastily picked up your purse and shoved your gun back inside, running after Jaehyun to catch up to him.

                              _______________________

You learned after a few days that Jaehyun wasn’t a man of many words. He also refused to share a bed with you, always asking whatever motel you passed by for a room with double beds, and if they didn’t have one, he would just sleep on the floor despite your complaints. It was frustrating that you still didn’t know what it was that he did to make money, and every time you asked, he simply said it was no job for women, which you knew was something he said just to annoy you.

You could tell he didn’t put much faith in your offer to help him, but he still entertained you, letting you know he would give you a chance to participate when the day came. Honestly, if he wanted to drag you around the country for free, you weren’t going to complain.

Jaehyun was incredibly annoying with all of his superiority sense. When he spoke, only back-handed remarks or teasing comments left his mouth, it was clear he didn’t take you seriously and it was slowly driving you insane – If he called you doll one more time, you wouldn’t think going back begging on your knees to Doyoung would be such a bad idea.

But, despite his whole attitude problem, Jaehyun was nice to you in silence: He lent you his clothes when you didn’t have any and took you to a store downtown to buy new ones when you passed through a city he has been to before, not complaining about having to pay for all of it. You remembered how he silently watched as you set your wedding dress on fire in the parking lot of the random motel you chose for the night, or how he took you to the movies after you tried to call your mother from a payphone and ended up sobbing for the first time in years.

The man left you alone during most of the days, running whatever business he had in the different cities you visited. He sometimes came back with cuts and bruises and you cleaned him up with a harsh look on your face, but at the end of the day, you had no right judging him when he was the one bringing food and putting shelter over your head. He eventually taught you how to do the guns’ maintenance and at least now you had a role, getting the weapons tidy and ready for the next day. You wondered for how long he would accept carrying you around without asking for anything in return, he didn’t seem all that interested in bedding you and he knew you were as poor as one comes; Maybe he would just kill you.

“Have you ever killed a man?” You had asked one day as you cleaned the inside of your gun’s barrel, on the little table at the corner of your rented room.

The man had simply looked up from the newspaper he was reading on his bed and raised an eyebrow, “Have you?”

“Can you ever answer anything I ask?”

“Can you ever pay for your own stuff?”

You dropped the subject after that.

As cold as Jaehyun was, it was clear he was beginning to grow fond of you. At first, he had treated you like some sort of charity project to acquire his pass to heaven, but as time passed, he started unfolding layer by layer. One day he brought a wine bottle to celebrate something, he didn’t tell you what exactly, but he did tell you all about how his mother used to study French and he learned it just by hearing her practice. He also told you how they used to plan on moving to France when he was little, how he and his mother spent hours talking before going to bed about how their little house would be, him promising her he would help take care of the garden so they could have many beautiful flowers. Both of you sat on cheap wooden chairs in the motel’s parking lot, drinking the wine under the stars as if you lived inside poetry – Jaehyun started smiling after the fourth glass and you did believe life was art in that moment.

“My family has some property in France, I’ll take you and your mother there one day to show you my gratitude,” You offered with an easy smile.

The man turned his head to look at you, you could see his dimples but his eyes looked sad, “Your family´s really rich, huh?”

“Old money.”

“How are you adjusting to this new side of life, princess?” He joked, meaning all the cheap rooms and dirty bathrooms your life had become.

“It has been… An experience,” You laughed lowly, like being loud would disrupt the universe above you. “I’d trade my old life for showering in a gas station’s sink any day.”

Your quickly developing bond was made clear when one-night, Jaehyun got back to your shared room to find you trembling on the floor, hugging your legs as blood stained you all over. Jaehyun didn’t even look at the body next to you on the floor, he just silently picked you up and took you to the bathroom.

“Are you hurt?” He asked after placing you on the toilet and turning the hot water on to fill the tub.

You shook your head in denial, eyes lost on the floor.

He didn’t ask you any questions that night, he simply undressed you and placed you on the warm water, softly rubbing all the blood from your skin and hair for hours. After emptying and refilling the tub for the third time so the water wouldn’t be red anymore, Jaehyun left you soaking and when you finally had the strength to get up and go back to your room, the sun was up and Jaehyun had already taken care of everything. You didn’t have it in you to ask what he had done with the body, but that day he drove for hours to get you out of there. You could see he was exhausted but with a tense jaw, he ignored as you cried for him to stop, only parking the next night when he felt you would be safe for the time being.

 That night he did sleep with you, held your hair up while you threw up and forced you to eat whatever he managed to find in the reception.

Eventually, the shock of playing God became bearable and Jaehyun started pestering you about your gun. You had tried leaving it behind on 4 different occasions but he had always picked it up and brought it with him, hiding it in your purse just in case you needed it. You just didn’t feel comfortable carrying it around anymore, the feeling of warm blood on the palm of your hands was not something to be taken lightly.

“Now that we know for sure they’re after you and catching onto us, you should always have your gun,” He had lectured and you simply closed your eyes, not needing to be reminded.

Some nights later, he got to the motel of choice to an empty room and completely panicked, heart almost jumping out of his throat as he saw the silent space until he eventually found the note you had left on the bedside table.

Went into the woods, will be back late.

He didn’t wait, immediately locking the door and rushing into the trees behind the motel. He felt like he walked for hours but it was probably what his nerves made it feel like, cold sweat running down his neck. When he did find you, all the screaming about irresponsibility he had prepared and the desire to tie you up somewhere so you would just behave, were forgotten at the sight in front of him.

“You have a bad left eye; you should always aim a little bit more to the right.”

You jumped in surprise at the sudden voice but followed the instructions. You had always been a good shooter, even before Doyoung - but Jaehyun was right, you did have a bad left eye.

“The carnival is in town,” You had excitedly informed a busy Jaehyun on a Friday afternoon. “Saw it on the newspaper.”

“Hm.”

“Can we go?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“Do you perhaps enjoy having a target on your face?” He looked up at you from the bag he was organizing.

“We’ve been running for weeks, there’s no way they know where we are. Please?”

“Stop whining, you’re not a child and it’s not cute.”

Later that day, he took you to the carnival.

He was tense the whole night and only agreed to stay for an hour, but you managed to convince him to ride the Ferris Wheel and buy you some game tickets. You knew you would have to leave behind all the prizes once you had to skip town and hit the road again - You sure complained about that, earning an eye roll and silence in response, but a few days later you found the plushie elephant you had liked the most hidden in the trunk of Jaehyun’s car.

You had lost track of the time a long time ago, days started losing their meaning to all the different rooms and cheap restaurants. Your location was a mystery that didn’t really intrigue you, but you figured you had probably already crossed around half of the country by the change of scenery. Jaehyun didn’t leave you every day, he once in a while stayed “home” and you were surprised to find yourself hoping for those moments when he would read his French books out loud from his bed and you would enjoy the sound of his voice as you stared at him – But pretended to be sleeping every time he looked up.

On days he did have to leave though, he didn’t always wake up paranoid. Occasionally, he gave you some money to go explore whatever town you were staying in for the next day or two. You always returned with a little trinket you thought he would like, and he always scolded you for spending money on useless things, but you were way past the point of feeling like a child under his gaze anymore – You just had to learn how to hide the smile on your face when you caught him wearing one of the things you had “gifted” him.

You imagined he was happy at not being bothered by your constant whining over being left alone and bored every day.

“You know what I miss the most?” You lightly kicked some water at the man sunbathing next to you, ignoring his annoyed groan. “From being rich, I mean.”

“Having servants who were obliged to put up with you?”

“The Balls. They were quite boring at first, but at the end of the night when most guests had already left, the band always started playing better music for me and I had so much fun dancing,” You smiled fondly at the memory, eyes lost deep into the pool. “Doyoung was an excellent lead.”

“Did you love him?”

“Sometimes,” You shrugged. “He was a gentleman, but at the end of the day we had many fundamental differences.”

“Like torturing people.”

“Like torturing people,” You nodded. “He tried teaching me how to drive, you know how a woman driving is viewed by society.”

“What a good man,” Jaehyun rolled his eyes sarcastically.

“Never said he was. But he treated me well, besides the whole trying to make me his property thing.”

“Do you think there is such a thing as being morally grey?”

“You, caring for my opinion?” You raised an eyebrow at him, even though he couldn’t see it behind the funky sunglasses you had bought the day before.

“You’re the only person I have to talk to,” He shrugs. “Entertain me.”

“Your luck. But I guess I do, yeah.”

“Why?”

“Well, I’m not sure. I used to think people were either good or bad, but now I see that as with most situations in life, there is no such thing that is completely black or white. Look at yourself, for instance.”

“And what do you mean by that?”

“Exactly what I said, I still have no idea what you do with your life, but I’ve gathered enough to know it’s not accounting. But you’re nice to me. Also – At the end of the day, I did abandon my fiancé at the altar and killed a man, but I don’t feel like I’m a bad person. I think.”

“You’re wearing heart-shaped pink glasses, you don’t have much to worry about,” He smiled at you, his eyes squinting - You hadn’t noticed they did that (It’s not like Jaehyun smiled much).

“Is this the face of a killer?” You joked, pressing your palm to your cheek.

“You kill one man and start acting like you’re going to dethrone the Kims,” He rolls his eyes amusedly and you laugh. “Want some lessons on torture next, princess?”

“As if you could teach me,” You provoke, trying to get him to finally tell you about his line of work.

“You’ll need to be smarter than that,” He winks at you and you huff in disappointment.

You stared at him quietly for a while, he looked relaxed for once, even happy if that wouldn’t be pushing it too hard.

Jaehyun was lying down next to the pool, one arm behind his head and his eyes closed. The golden light of the soon-to-set sun hit his skin and made it look like honey and his ashy bangs messily hit his eyelids. For once in your life, you felt your heart warm, like if you could spend the rest of your years staring at Jaehyun looking this peaceful, you would. He just felt familiar, like home – It was you and him alone against the world.

“We need to cut your hair,” You smile fondly, reaching your arm out to move his strands away from his face.

…………………………………………………………….

Even though on most days you felt your heart burst in joy at the jiggling sound of the door handle when Jaehyun got home, you often found your heart feeling the same at the angry bang of the door behind his leaving form after a fight. You sometimes felt guilty over screaming at the man who was most literally keeping you alive and giving you everything in exchange of nothing, but he was just so simply infuriating and his patronizing little “princess” and “doll” remarks didn’t always sit well with you, especially after a restless night filled with anxiety and worrying that one of the Kims' men could just burst into your room and stab you to death.  

Jaehyun was not a soft man, he had no problem with throwing things in your face or making comments that could almost literally pierce you when he was angry, but thankfully, after everything that you had to go through and almost being sold to strangers, neither were you. If the Kims didn’t get to you first, you were sure the two of you would kill each other one day, there was only so much of hearing about how you were a spoiled brat with absolutely nothing in life that you could take.

One of these days, Jaehyun came back way after midnight, thankful you were already asleep because he could still feel the fire in his veins ready to burn you if you gave him the chance. He was already stressed enough with work businesses; he didn’t need you to throw him over the edge with your sarcastic comments.

Jaehyun quietly took a shower and got on his bed, throwing the covers around in annoyance until he heard you sniffing. His whole body tensed, alert.

“Y/N?”

Silence.

You tried to be quiet, not wanting to deal with Jaehyun in that moment but wanting him to hold you at the same time. It was the fourth time that week that you had woken up desperate after horrible dreams, ranging from your maid being tortured to Jaehyun never coming back home. That night, you had dreamed about your mom begging you to come back or else the Kims would kill her, she looked bloody and puffy from crying, bruises and scratches all over her body as she sobbed and screamed in pure panic at the sight of her torturer.

“I need to go back,” You whispered after a while, eyes glued to the ceiling.

Next chap soon

#jaehyun #nct jaehyun #jung jaehyun #jaehyun nct #jaehyun smut #jaehyun angst #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun fics #jaehyun fanfic #jaehyun scenarios #nct smut #nct fanfic #nct 127 #jaehyun au

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nightxcreature · 7 months ago

Text

Roadhouse Rendezvous

Summary: Reader and Dean have a little fun in the Roadhouse Bathroom.

A/N: Number 3? For @jacklesversebingo 2024! I’m having so much fun writing these, I hope you enjoy this one! This is for the prompt, “I’ll give you $50 to forget what you just saw.” Prompt is in bold.

Warnings: Slight Smut, sexual innuendos for sure, cursing because I like that, caught in the act

My hands were lost in the flannel around his torso, pulling him hard against me as his tongue danced between my lips. His right hand was wrapped tightly around my throat causing the silver ring on his finger to cut deliciously into my skin. The irony of Ten Seconds to Love by Mötley Crüe playing on the jukebox out front isn’t lost on me when he suddenly shrugs off the flannel and shoves me against the door.

“Want you so bad, Baby.” He mumbles against my lips, the hand formerly around my throat making its way to the hem of my shirt, “Need you.”

I gasp as he nips my neck, slowly running his tongue over the sting, “Take me.”

A guttural groan leaves his lips and his kisses me deeply. I feel a tap on my arm as he instructs me to lift them above my head and my shirt soon finds itself on the floor. His big hands cup my breast and I can’t stop the moan that leaves me, “Hurry, Dean. I don’t have long before Jo realizes I’m gone.”

“She can run the bar alone for a while.” He mumbles into my neck as he reaches around to unhook my bra, “You’ve taught her well enough.”

I gasp again as he lifts me into his arms, placing my back against the door, “Besides,” he starts, a shit-eating grin on his face, “I want to take my time and enjoy this meal. It’s not everyday that I get to fuck my girl in her mom’s bar.” He winks and drops to his knees, sliding the skirt up my legs as he places them on his shoulders.

My hands find themselves in his hair at the feeling of his breath against my core and I slam my eyes shut, “Please.” I whisper.

I hear the chuckle before I feel him shake his head, “Oh, she’s beggin’ now? I thought you had to get back to work?”

With a roll of eyes I shove his face into me and he groans loudly as I snap, “Shut up and eat me.”

“Yes, ma’am” He says with a smile, reaching up my skirt to pull my panties aside, “Gladly…”

He slowly lowers his lips to my entrance when suddenly the toilet in one of the stalls flushes. I rush to jump off of him while he slams into the counter to grab his gun.

“Where the fuck is my shirt?!” I whisper yell, “I thought you scoped this bathroom out before bringing me in here!”

He shrugs sheepishly and hands me my shirt from where it fell under the counter, “The place is dead, who was gonna be in here?!”

I slip my shirt on just before Ash steps out of the stall, “Hey, I’m all for a little lovin’, but I think you ladies should find a room. Preferably, not a public restroom.”

I roll my eyes again and sigh, “Ash, I’ll pay you $50 to forget what you just saw.”

He gives me a shrug and turns to Dean, “And you?”

“And me, what?”

“Listen, my tall, handsome friend, $50 may cover what I did or did not see, but I’m going to need a little extra to cover the things I heard.”

The blush heating my neck is slowly making its way up my face and I could melt into the floor when he quotes back to us, “‘I want to take my time and enjoy this meal’ Really? It isn’t everyday you get to fuck your girl in her mom’s bar, and it won’t be today either if I happen to go out there and slip up to Ellen.”

Dean digs $100 out of his wallet and places it in Ash’s hand, “Just forget we were ever in here.”

“Oh, this moment will live in my nightmares forever. But I won’t tell anyone what I saw, your secrets are always safe with Dr. Bad-Ass.” He says with a wink, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a pretty lady waiting on me in my office.”

“Your fucking computer doesn’t count!” I yell as he bows out the door with a laugh, “How fuckin’ embarrassing.”

Dean snorts and I hear Jo yelling for help as the Roadhouse regulars start rolling in, “Get out there,” he says smacking my ass and pushing me toward the door, “I’ll steal ya on your break and we can do it in the parking lot.”

I grin and kiss his lips as I head out the door and behind the bar, “Your usual, Bobby?”

——-————————————————————————

A/N: A fun one for Jacklesverse Bingo! I’m working on Part 2 of Don’t call Me and should hopefully have it out tomorrow! 🫶🏼

Taglist: @lmhf1 @whimsyfinny @k-slla

#jacklesversebingo24 #supernatural #spn fanfic #spnfandom #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester #dean winchester x you #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles fanfiction #spn smut #spn

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magiccath · 1 year ago

Text

5 times the Doctor loved you, and one time he actually did something about it

tenth doctor x GN!reader

Summary: as it says on the tin!

The Doctor slammed the door behind you, the booming footsteps of the Cybermen closing in.

“What’s the plan?” You asked, slightly breathless from running.

The Doctor didn’t know what to say. He didn’t have a plan. He couldn’t think of a single way out of this situation.

He had told you traveling with him was dangerous, but you always insisted on coming. The only thing he could do was promise to keep you safe. To keep you alive, no matter the cost.

As the footsteps neared, he began to fear he couldn’t keep his promise.

“Doctor?”

He hoped his eyes didn’t show the panic he was feeling inside.

“Do we have a plan?”

He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. A small part of him hoped it might shut everything out.

The Cybermen neared your hideout, their metal fists banging on the wooden doors. Between the thick wood and the metal lock, the two of you had minutes at best.

“The Cybermen are all connected through a network, correct?”

The Doctor opened his eyes, looking at you in confusion.

“And if I can get into that network…” you scanned the room quickly, your eyes instantly settling on a computer.

“It’ll be practically impossible,” the Doctor argued.

“They could have it under lock and key, and there would still be a way to break into it.” You smiled. “You just have to know what you’re doing.”

The Doctor watched in awe as your fingers danced across the keyboard, typing endless strings of characters that he couldn’t understand.

“See, I already hacked into the database,” you leaned closer to the computer, absentmindedly chewing on your bottom lip. The Doctor tried not to let his eyes linger on your lips too much.

“I just need to hack into the executive level.” You turned to look at the Doctor.

He couldn’t think what you would need him for. You knew how computers worked, he didn’t really.

Silently, you held out your hand.

Confused, the Doctor took it. He wasn’t complaining. Your hands were soft and warm. He’d make any excuse to hold them.

You laughed, the sound like music to his ears.

“No, silly.”

The Doctor blushed, but he didn’t remove his hand from yours.

“I need the sonic,” you explained.

Embarrassed, he slid the object into your hands.

You handled the sonic with expertise. The Doctor didn’t think you had been listening all of those times he rambled on about the machine.

Sure enough, you flicked to the correct settings in a matter of seconds. Using it appeared to be second nature to you.

“Done!” You clapped your hands excitedly. Sure enough, the commotion outside the door halted, silence settling between the two of you.

The Doctor’s eyes darted between the door and you, trying to process what had just happened.

Once he did, he wasted no time scooping you into his arms.

You laughed and wrapped your arms around his neck happily.

The Doctor was practically buzzing with joy. He swung you gently from side to side as he hugged you, your feet dangling from the ground.

He didn’t want to let you go.

“Brilliant!” He grinned, “You’re brilliant!”

He pulled back slightly, planting a firm kiss on your forehead.

In the end, you didn’t need him to save you. You could more than do that yourself.

The Doctor was plagued with thoughts. Endless, troublesome thoughts swirled about his head.

Almost nothing was certain. Except for one truth the Doctor held close to his heart. At the end of the day, it was just him.

The last of the Time Lords. Floating through time and space, alone.

Always alone.

In his head, it was only a matter of time before you left. No one ever really stayed. Be it sickness, life, love, or fear, his companions always left him.

He raked his hands across his face, hoping the action could silence the incessant chatter in his head.

Truthfully, he didn’t have the strength to fight it off today. Why even bother?

You bounded into the control room, a smile plastered across your face. You had a way of bringing light into any room. Most days, it was impossible for the Doctor to be upset in your presence. Today it was just too much for the alien to handle on his own.

He tried to hide his hurt, plastering a sad smile on his own face.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, catching on instantly.

“I’m fine,” he lied.

You frowned, not falling for his lie.

His hands clutched the console, his knuckles white from the force. Gently, you ghosted your fingers across his hand. Convinced he wasn’t going to run away, you placed your hands over his. Almost instantly they eased up, suddenly aware of the force in which he was clutching the console.

“What’s going on up there?” you asked, your gentle hands moving to cup his face. You gave his head a light wiggle, the action causing the corners of the Doctor’s mouth to curve upwards.

“How long are you going to stay with me?” He whispered, almost too scared to say the words aloud.

You furrowed your brows, not out of anger, but rather confusion.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You smiled, your thumbs rubbing circles against his cheeks softly.

The Doctor didn’t really believe you. They never wanted to leave, until they did. Perhaps you were happy at the moment, but that wasn’t going to last.

He forced himself to pull away from your grip. The sooner he let you go, the less it was going to hurt. At least, that’s what he told himself.

“Doctor?”

You grabbed the sleeve of his coat, tugging lightly. The Doctor closed his eyes, trying to demonstrate some level of self-restraint. You weren’t making it easy.

Without warning, you wrapped your arms firmly around the man. Your grip was unwavering, your hands clutching at his clothes desperately.

The Doctor was taken aback at first, unsure what to do. Eventually, he relaxed into the hug. Giving in, he allowed his arms to wrap around you, pulling you closer to him. If he had it his way, he would stay like this forever.

“I don’t ever want to leave,” you gasped, your breath hot against his neck. You buried your face in his shoulder, attempting to get as close as possible.

For a second, the Doctor allowed himself to think that you might feel even a fraction of the way he felt about you.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you beamed, pulling back to look at the Doctor.

Your eyes were mesmerizing up close. Their color glistened in the TARDIS light, and he found it impossible to look away.

“You can’t get rid of me that easy, Spaceman,” you laughed.

“The name’s Captain Jack Harkness,” The dashing man in front of you smiled, holding out his hand confidently.

You took it warily, exchanging your own name awkwardly. You didn’t exactly share the Captain’s confidence. His smile clearly had you flabbergasted, a scarlet flush creeping onto your cheeks.

He flashed you an overly cocky grin, his hold on your hand unwavering.

“Stop it,” the Doctor growled from behind you.

“I’m just saying hello,” Jack said innocently, practically batting his eyelashes.

“It’s never just hello with you,” the Doctor continued groaning. He was used to Jack’s antics, the man flirted with anything that moved. He usually had no issue with it. That was, until the flirting was directed at you.

“I don’t mind,” you grinned, looking up at the Captain sheepishly. You seemed to get lost in his eyes. From the Doctor’s point of view, you practically had heart eyes bursting from your head.

Jack smiled back, charming as ever. His eyes traveled across your face, taking in each and every feature.

“You’re gorgeous,” he whispered.

You let out a nervous giggle, clearly taken aback by the compliment. Had the Doctor never called you that before? He was almost certain he had. You had never reacted that way when he did.

“T-thank you,” you stammered. It was clear to just about anyone that you were interested in the Captain. Between the way you looked at him and the bright red of your face, you were practically screaming it.

It drove the Doctor crazy. He couldn’t express how badly he wanted you to look at him like that. Yet here you were, ogling over none other than Captain Jack Harkness.

“Do you want to grab coffee?” Jack asked, his words pulling the Doctor from his thoughts.

The Doctor had to suppress a scoff. Of course, the captain was asking you out at a time like this. The world could be crumbling and he would shag the nearest complying individual.

The Doctor didn’t want to think about you and Jack together. In fact, he didn’t like to think about you with anyone but him. Maybe it was selfish, but a small part of him wanted you all to himself.

He didn’t stick around to hear your answer. It would only break his heart more to hear you say yes.

Unfortunately, the Doctor didn’t know that you never said yes to the Captain. If he had stuck around, he would have found that out.

Rage.

That was the only thing coursing through the Doctor’s mind as he pointed the gun at the woman in front of him. Pure, unbridled rage.

His hands shook as he cocked the gun, fully preparing himself to pull the trigger. He could do it. He had every means to take the woman’s life.

“Doctor?”

He didn’t need to move his gaze to know you were by his side. He could feel the gentle pull of your fingers on his coat.

“Go back to the TARDIS,” he growled.

“Doctor,” you repeated, hurt riddling your voice.

He couldn’t bring himself to lower the gun, but at the same time, he couldn’t fire it either.

The woman before him was an awful person. She had killed hundreds and didn't even feel a shred of remorse. Even further, he had killed your friend. He should kill her. You should want him to. But you didn't.

“Doctor.” Your hand crept towards his.

He shook his head. He wanted to scream, he wanted to cry. But instead, he just stood there.

“She doesn't deserve this,” you pleaded, your hand closing around his own.

“Yes she does,” he said, shakily. He wasn’t sure if he fully believed himself.

“If you kill her, are you any better than her?” You asked, guiding the hand holding the gun away from the woman.

The Doctor didn’t stop you, but he didn’t agree either. His eyes remained trained on the woman at his feet.

You eased the gun from his hand and disarmed it before throwing it across the room.

You took his face in your hands gently, pulling his gaze towards you.

“You are better than this,” you reminded him.

The Doctor was fighting back tears. It was all he could do to shake his head no.

“Yes, you are,” you reiterated, resting your forehead against his.

The TARDIS was cold. Realistically, it was the Doctor’s fault for breaking the heater. In his defense, he didn’t intend to.

It wasn’t an issue for the Time Lord, temperature wasn’t really an issue for him. He could wear a suit in the desert or shorts in the winter, it didn’t really matter.

You, however, were obviously cold.

“Are you going to fix the heating?” you asked, clutching your arms for warmth.

It wasn’t that he wanted you to suffer. Quite the contrary. He couldn’t figure out how to fix the heater. He just didn’t want to admit it.

“If you go up the stairs and to the left, you’ll find yourself in the TARDIS closet,” he explained.

“I hardly think an 18th-century dress that smells of mothballs is going to fix the heating.”

The Doctor chuckled.

“No, but there are sweaters and other normal clothes in there.”

While you went searching for something warm, the Doctor continued his banging under the TARDIS console. It shouldn’t be this hard to figure out.

He sat cross-legged on the floor, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He ducked his head downwards so he could read the book that lay open on the floor.

“How to fix your spaceship at home!” wasn’t much help at the moment. He slammed the book shut and resumed his pointless banging. He was probably doing more harm than good, but he figured if he hit enough stuff the ship would fix itself.

The TARDIS groaned in protest.

“I think this will work,” you interrupted, walking back into the control room.

You were rolling the sleeves of a green sweater up so you could use your hands.

His green sweater.

“It doesn’t smell like mothballs!” You jested.

The Doctor turned his gaze away from you, hoping you wouldn’t notice the bright red color creeping into his cheeks.

“It actually smells a bit like leather and sweets,” you continued, smelling the sleeve.

“That used to be mine.”

“Yours?” You asked, almost as if you were shocked.

“Well, it didn’t belong to this face,” he shrugged.

“But it was yours.”

“Yeah.” The red was taking over his face now. There was no way you hadn’t noticed.

“You can have it back,” you said, interpreting his silence for displeasure.

“No! I don’t wear stuff like that anymore. You can have it,” he rambled, scratching the back of his head anxiously. He wanted to say so many other things. How you looked infinitely better in it than he ever did and how happy it made him to see you in his sweater.

“Thank you!” you grinned before bounding back down the hallway.

The Doctor smiled to himself. He’d completely forgotten about the heating. All he could think about was how much he liked you in his clothes.

The one time he did something about it.

You threw the doors of the TARDIS open, rushing into the open field.

“It’s beautiful!” You laughed as you danced through the tall sapphire grass. You stopped to examine every strange and new plant littered throughout the meadow, encountering each with a new kind of enthusiasm.

The biome in front of him could be the most magnificent thing ever, and he would still be looking at you. Especially when you were this happy.

You bounced around the meadow, picking up flowers you liked as the Doctor followed behind you.

You rambled on about your day happily as you moved about. You were more than content to just be in the Doctor’s company without an imminent threat looming over you.

He stopped your ramblings suddenly with an utterance of your name.

“Yes?” You asked, wide-eyed.

“I love you,” he whispered. He couldn’t hold it in anymore.

Wide-eyed, you blinked at him.

“Please say something,” he said, pained.

You remained silent, still processing the Time Lord’s words.

The Doctor began to panic. Thoughts tumbled about his head, doubt seeping into his mind.

Then, without warning, you dropped your flowers and threw yourself into the Doctor’s arms.

He fell over from the force, landing in the cushion of the plush foliage.

“I’m sorry,” you laughed, a grin taking over your face.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

The Doctor brushed a stay strand of hair from your face, tucking it gently behind your ear. Color flushed into your cheeks from the simple action.

His eyes darted between your eyes and your mouth, silently asking permission to kiss him. You nodded your head lightly, inviting him to do so.

Slowly, he brought his lips to yours. You smiled against his kiss, relishing in the warmth.

When he pulled away, you pulled him back. Plastering a series of kisses against his mouth, you demanded his attention.

This made the Doctor laugh, his arms snaking comfortably around your waist, truly securing you against himself.

You drifted from his lips to his cheek, planting one final kiss there.

“You love me!” you laughed, poking him playfully.

“I do,” He laughed, resting his hand against your cheek. You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes in tranquility.

“I love you too,” you whispered against his palm, your breath warm on his hand.

Truthfully, that was all the Doctor could have ever asked for.

#10th doctor x reader #10th doctor/reader #tenth doctor x reader #tenth doctor/reader #tenth doctor #10th doctor #the doctor #jack harkness #doctor who #fanfic #doctor who fanfiction #fanfiction #david tennant

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eringetter · 4 months ago

Text

Smoky Confidence

Stardew Valley Sebastian x first person fem!reader

word count: 3.4k

cw: cannabis usage, unprotected sex, I think two curse words

author’s note: This is from a dream I had a while back and couldn’t not write it down.

🖤💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤

I had just moved to Stardew Valley. My first Summer had come to an end, and I was crushing on Sebastian. Hard.

I was friends with Maru, his half-sister, who knew of my crush and always tried to encourage me to just say something to him. She had gotten the conversation started a few times, but both of us were too awkward and shy to really talk too much. She tried to make me feel better, saying that she thought he had a crush on me, too, but I didn’t believe her. Otherwise, why would every attempt at a conversation end the way it did?

It was the first cool day of Autumn, so Maru had planned for some friends to meet at the Stardrop that afternoon for a coffee get together. Leah and Penny were there, and we were all having fun until I saw Seb walk in with Sam and Abby. All interest in anything happening at my table was gone. Penny asked if I was okay, and Maru, noticing where my attention was, casually mentioned my crush.

“Don’t you ever talk to him when you’re over there?” Leah asked.

“I… can’t,” I blushed.

“You try getting the two shiest people in town to talk!” Maru laughed.

Our small party continued around me, even though I couldn’t take my eyes off of the tall boy with black hair back in the corner of the pub. Leah excused herself eventually, and Penny whispered something to Maru before doing the same. As we gathered our things to head out, Maru invited me to dinner at her house with her family. My face felt hotter at the suggestion, but I finally agreed.

“Hey, Seb!” she called on our way out the door. “Don’t be late tonight!”

Sebastian waved his hand her way to acknowledge her, and his eye briefly caught mine. I felt my heart catch, and decided to run home for a change of clothes first.

Once I made it to the home of the carpenter’s family, I found Maru outside on her patio waiting for me.

“Perfect timing!” she beamed. “Seb just got home a few minutes ago.”

I laughed nervously. “Okay…”

“You can’t go all night and not say a word to him. It’s painful to watch you two pine for each other.”

I scoffed. “He barely knows I exist.”

“Then why did his face turn redder than Gus’ pasta sauce when I told him you were coming tonight?”

I couldn’t fight the smile that took over my face. “Really?”

Maru giggled. “Mom’s in the kitchen making dinner. I convinced Dad to help her. If you were to go in the front and slip down the stairs, you could hang out with him a little.”

I froze. “I don’t know if I could,” I replied, feeling my fear coming back.

“Oh, come on,” she insisted, grabbing my arm to lead me around the front of the house.

“Your parents are expecting me though.” I tried to think of an excuse.

“I’ll tell them you had to ask Seb a computer question.” There was no shaking her.

We quietly made our way through the front door and down the basement stairs without so much as a creaky floor board, a testament to Robin’s skill.

Maru rapped her knuckles on the door. “Hey, Seb?”

There was a light thud followed by the sound of something spraying. “Hold on!” he called from the other side. The door opened slightly. “What do you need?” he asked, again catching my eye. I saw pink flush his cheeks before we both looked away.

“She has a question about—God, Sebastian. Smoking before dinner?” Maru waved her hand around to clear a cloud of smoke and air freshener as she entered the room, pulling me in behind her.

“Sorry,” he shrugged.

Maru covered her nose once entering. “I’m going to get some air so I don’t catch a contact high. I’ll leave you to it,” she shot me a smile on her way out.

Unable to think of anything to say, I pleaded for her to stay with my eyes wide and mouth agape. She closed the door behind her.

Sebastian and I stood in silence for a few moments. I swallowed hard, trying to find something to talk about.

“So, you had a question?” Sebastian asked me. His voice was rich and deep. I often imagined him to have a smooth singing voice, and wondered if he ever sang any of the songs in Sam’s band.

My mind raced for something to ask him about computers, eyes darting around the room frantically before they fell on the ash tray. He noticed where I was looking.

“Sorry,” he apologized again, taking a step to put the joint out.

“No—it’s okay,” I said. “I don’t mind.”

“You smoke?” he asked, offering it to me.

“I’ve had some… baked goods… before,” I laughed nervously.

He smiled. “Cool.”

His hand was still stretched out.

“Why not?” I said, hoping it would help me relax. It was supposed to work quicker than edibles anyway, and I could use that at a time like this.

He sat down on his couch, and offered me a place next to him. I sat and took a drag, coughing instantly.

“Whoa, easy,” he said.

“That doesn’t happen with brownies,” I laughed, handing the joint back.

He laughed as well, “I guess it doesn’t.”

His laugh was so beautiful, I thought my heart would melt and leave me for dead right there. Trying to regain my composure, if I ever had any, I looked around the room again. My eyes settled on a stack of games in the corner.

“You play?” Seb asked.

“No.”

“Oh.”

“Not that I don’t want to. I just never had any friends back in my old town who liked those kinds of games,” I added quickly.

“‘Nerd games’?” he grinned.

“That’s what they’d call them. I never had the heart to say I actually wanted to play. So I mainly did online gaming, where I could play alone or with people who didn’t know me.”

He perked up. “You still play anything?”

“I wanted to, but I can’t seem to get my computer hooked up to anything on the farm. I think I’m too far out.” I realized that was my opening. “I… Maru said you’re good with computers. Maybe you could help me out sometime?”

“Yeah,” he said taking another drag. “I can look at it. I have some old parts lying around that I may be able to use to get a stronger signal out your way.”

“That’d be great!” I beamed. I cleared my throat and tried not to look too eager. The weed was doing its job, and I definitely felt more relaxed talking to him now. “So what do you do anyway?” I motioned to his set up.

“A little bit of everything,” he said, standing up.

I followed him to his corner where he had his computer set up. All kinds of gadgets were in a pile off to the side.

“I do programming for people, mostly. I also build websites and PCs occasionally.” He pulled up a screen filled with code. “I know it doesn’t look like much to other people…” he trailed off.

“No, I think it’s amazing that you can do all of that. You must be insanely smart.”

He blushed. Noticing I didn’t have a place to sit, he reached by me to pull over a stool, bushing my leg in the process. “Sorry,” he blushed again.

“You’re fine,” I said, taking the seat next to him. “Show me some more.”

He seemed surprised that someone took an interest in his work because it took him a moment to respond. “Uh, sure. Here’s one I’m working on now. This guy’s starting a small business and needs systems to keep track of everything from inventory to employees’ hours.” He clicked through a few windows before typing. “So, for example, if I type in this line of text…”

Suddenly, he stopped typing and sat frozen in his chair.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

His face got red again, and I realized that I began leaning on his chair arm at some point, and our arms were pressed together.

“Oh!” I jumped back. It was my turn to apologize. “I didn’t mean—“

“No, it’s… okay,” he smiled softly.

The time seemed to stretch as we sat there smiling at each other like two fools. I was grateful that my high was keeping me from panicking and running away, but still completely unable to break the silence around us. I opened my mouth, hoping something would just come out when his lips were suddenly on mine.

He pulled away just as suddenly. “Oh, my god…” he said in disbelief of himself.

“Wow,” was all that came out of me.

“You’re not mad?”

“Mad?” I laughed. “I have had the biggest crush on you since I first saw you!” My hands clasped over my mouth. I was very aware that my heart was thumping loudly. What had I said?

“Really?” The biggest smile I’ve ever seen caressed his face. He nervously rubbed his neck. “So have I. On you, I mean.”

It took all I had not to burst into tears of joy. I couldn’t believe Maru was right. My mind was racing with ways to thank her without making it weird when I felt Sebastian’s hand around my waist, pulling me into his lap. His lips were back on me, and I eagerly returned them. My hands ran through his dyed hair as he pulled my knees up to straddle him on the chair. Once as close as we could get to each other, his hands latched onto my hips, squeezing as though he thought I would disappear any moment. Suddenly sharing his feelings, I sucked on his bottom lip. I felt his tongue brush against my mouth, and I welcomed it in. The taste of the sweet smoke was still on his breath, and I breathed him in deep.

I felt his fingers reaching for the hem of my hoodie when a knock on the door yanked us back from our bliss.

“Sebby!” his mom called from the other side of the door.

Panicking, I slid off his lap and ducked under the desk at his feet.

“Uhm… yeah, Mom?” Sebastian replied nervously.

I heard the door open, and I crouched lower.

“Hey, Maru told me her friend was coming over for dinner tonight,” Robin said.

“Oh?” Sebastian moved his chair in a little further.

“She said she was down here with you?”

“Oh!” He finally understood the situation. “She’s uh, just in… the bathroom.” I saw him point across the room where I assumed he had a private bathroom.

“Oh, well, when she gets out, can you send her up? I want to make sure her home is ready for winter. It gets cold here in the Valley.”

“I’ll do that.”

She took a step away, and I thought we were in the clear. “Are you still on that computer this late?”

“Umm…” Sebastian looked at his computer and pretended to return to typing. “Yeah, the client moved up the deadline, so I’m putting in extra hours.”

“You’ve been on there so much lately. Why don’t you spend more time with your friends instead of cooped up all day?”

“Mom, I just got home from seeing them for lunch.”

“And now you’re working while you have a visitor.”

“I said she’s in the bathroom!”

“And you still can’t take…” She went silent. “She’s been in there a while. Is she okay?”

Sebastian’s pale face lighten a bit more. “Um…”

I started miming to him from under the desk, catching his attention.

“She’s uh… washing her face…” he said slowly.

“Why?”

“I didn’t ask.” He tried to cut off any more questions. “Mom—when she’s out, I’ll let her know you want to see her. But please, I really need to get this done.”

Robin sighed and crossed back to the door. “Alright. Please don’t work too late, Seb.”

“I won’t,” he told her as the door closed. His shoulders slumped forward as he exhaled. “Holy shit,” he sighed down at me.

I climbed out from under the desk and stood in front of him.

“Why did you say washing your face?” he asked me.

“It was the only thing I could think of that sounded normal.” I rubbed my head. “I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have…”

“No,” he stood up. I’d never looked at how tall he was until he was right in front of me. I gazed up into his dark chestnut eyes. “It was my fault. But I liked it,” he offered.

“So did I,” I admitted.

“Do you maybe wanna stay a little longer?” he whispered with a half-smile.

“Kinda,” I nodded.

He motioned me towards the bed as he slipped by to lock the door. “Can’t have her walking in again.”

We sat on the bed next to each other, both remembering how awkward our sober selves are. Laughing it off together, he pulled my face close to his. We kissed as we inched further back on his bed. He laid down next to me, cupping my face in his hands. My tongue found its way back inside his mouth, desperate to pick up where we left off. His hand started to trail down my chest, lightly grazing my breast as he made his way back to the hem of my hoodie once more. I broke the kiss, pulling a soft groan from him in the process. Propping myself up, I slipped the sweater over my head. My shirt had clung to it and came half off with it.

“Hell with it,” I whispered as I threw off my shirt too.

Sebastian stared for a minute as I now lay in front of him in my bra. Barely audible, I heard him whisper “yes” and he returned to kissing me.

His hands now explored new grounds. I felt him pause as he neared my breast again, so I gently moved his hand there for him. Waiting for that permission, he gave it a firm squeeze. I hummed in approval. His kisses traveled down my jaw and neck, reaching my chest. I rolled flat on my back for him. Kissing me through my bra, he finally looked up, thumbing one of the straps.

“May I?” he asked politely.

I grinned at how shy he still was, fighting himself to do what he desired. It made me feel better about feeling the same. I nodded at him. “Please,” I answer, lifting my back so he can reach the hooks.

As he unhooked my bra, he kissed me two more times with a quick, “Thank you,” causing me to smile harder.

His mouth closed over one of my nipples while his hand caressed the other. I closed my eyes, lost in the feeling of finally being with Sebastian after months of thinking he didn’t know I existed. He sat up and removed his own hoodie and shirt in one quick movement, tossing them to the floor.

“Wow,” I remarked, taking him in.

“What?” he asked self-consciously. “Pale?”

“No,” I laughed. “Hot.”

He blushed again before situating himself between my legs. Our bare torsos were hot against each other. I ran my hands along his side and back, feeling every inch of him. His black hair fell like a curtain against my face, softly tickling my cheek.

“Seb!” Robin called from the stairs.

We both sat upright.

“Kind of busy!” he yelled back. “I am so sorry,” he mouthed to me.

“Dinner is ready. Is she still here?”

“I am,” I call out.

“Are you okay?” she asked with a hint of concern.

“Fine. Allergies,” I blurted out.

“Allergies?”

“Im not used to the mountain yet, I guess.” I tried to keep my voice steady. “I took an antihistamine, and I’m… lying down for a minute.”

“Okay. I hope you feel better,” Robin replied.

“Actually, Mom?” Sebastian added. “Go ahead and eat without us. Once I’m done… working, I’m going to take her out for dinner.”

“That’s nice of you, Sebby!” she called though.

Sebastian looked down with embarrassment. “Yep…” He begged silently, “Please leave now.”

We waited a moment more after her footsteps disappeared.

“This is why I lock the door,” he stated.

“It’s okay, really,” I insisted.

“I mean it, though. I’d like to take you out. I know we only have the one place, but we could go into the city if you want.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know the city too well.”

“I’ll show you around, then,” he offered with a hint of confidence. “Do you think…” he considered for a minute. “Do you think I could be your boyfriend?”

“After all this? I sure hope so.” We laughed.

He leaned forward to kiss me again. “Should we continue, or is it ruined for good this time?” he asked.

Sitting against him as I was, I could feel how hard he was in his jeans. “I think I’d like to continue,” I whispered against his lips.

We kicked off our shoes and socks, and his hands flew to my belt. He slowly slid off my remaining layers, saving it all to memory. Any fear I had of how I looked naked washed away when Sebastian looked over me with adoration. He seemed hesitant to remove his own jeans, but finally sat bare in front of me.

Lying on top of me to kiss me again, he reached to touch me, letting his fingers feather over my folds. As he placed kisses on my neck, I opened my legs further to allow him access. I felt two slender fingers dip in and swirl my opening, pulling the wetness from inside. He pulled back up, circling my clit before going back down to repeat the motion. His fingers slowly slid all the way inside of me as he nuzzled into my neck.

“Are you sure?” he asked dreamily.

“I’m sure,” I told him, kissing his hair.

He pulled his fingers out and placed them in his mouth, sucking my juices off with an “mmm.” He moved to line himself up, and I took in the sight of his penis, long and pale as he was, with the tip matching the color of his cheeks when he blushed. There was precum beading at the tip of it, which he swirled along his head and shaft before moving it to my entrance. Slowly, he thrusted in. I shuddered from the sensation of him raking along all the right places. He gripped my waist, keeping a steady pace, the sounds of my wetness slowly being drowned out by the sound of his hips hitting my thighs.

The sight of him before me, fucking me in the dim corner of his room was too much. “Seb… I think I’m… oh—“

Warmth gushed out of me and dripped down his cock. He froze and stared at me.

“I didn’t mean to…” I started to apologize.

“Can you do that again?” he cut me off.

He leaned down to cover me with his body. I wrapped my legs around his waist. He moaned as he started to thrust with even more passion than before, sucking my neck and mumbling praises to me.

“You’re too good, Sebastian,” I called back to him. “You just feel so good.”

He reached his hand between our bodies and started to rub my clit with purpose. He locked his mouth onto mine as our tongues snaked around each other. I moved my legs more, allowing him maximum penetration. A few more thrusts and I felt myself start to come undone. I moaned into his mouth as I came. His hips stuttered at the feeling of me tightening around him, and he pumped me full of his hot cum.

He laid on my chest, rubbing my sides and I lazily played with his hair, both of us still panting. After a moment, he raised his head to peer into my eyes.

“I think I saw Yoba,” I laughed.

“I think I’m in love with you,” he said with a straight face.

“W—what?”

Sebastian sat up, staying inside of me. He moved closer to my face. “I think I’m in love with you,” he repeated.

“Are you still high?” I asked him.

“No. Not the least bit,” he assured as he kissed me.

#sebastian stardew valley #stardew sebastian #stardew sebastian smut #stardew valley sebastian #stardew valley sebastian smut #stardew valley sebastian x reader #stardew valley smut #EG writes #EG Sebastian #stardew valley #sdv sebastian x farmer #sdv sebastian #sdv sebastian x reader #sebastian sdv #sebastian x farmer #sebastian x reader

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blueishspace · 6 months ago

Text

Hero, Villain, God 10

(Prev) (Next) (First)

*Cub's pov*

Scar keeps staying out as HotGuy over his limit over and over, you tell him to be careful and he listens for two or maybe three days and then he's back and It's worse.

You worry about him, you really do, you don't like showing it ... You are hardly the...expressive type but the signal you give are clear, you hope he can understand it.

You are... tired of the limbo you are stuck in, he keeps overdoing it and you patch him up as best as you can and he does it again... each time you have to work harder and harder to make sure he's ok and It's taking It's toll on you.

You are frustrated too, he just doesn't listen, he says he values your work and knowledge and yet he keeps ignoring you!

... You have certain doubts sometimes.

You worry that he may be doing it on purpose, at least subconciously, that he in some way wants his situation to get worse so he has an excuse to rest... So that he doesn't have to feel guilty for it... You know that would never work on Scar though, he would find a way to feel bad about himself regardless.

...

You could never hate Scar for it, no matter how you feel about how little he listens... The Hero Association however...oh, you would burn it to the ground if you could.

They listen even less, they don't listen at all even, you told them HotGuy couldn't manage as much work anymore and they shut you up... They said Scar was being lazy and when you insisted they just responded with a "he can still run can't he?"... Whatever issues Scar might have are their fault and you hate them for what they have done to him, you would sue their ass for all of their funding... But Scar tells you to stay quiet about it and you do so because he cares.

But that's the past now and the present is a much bigger can of worms, things have devolved quickly in the last month...Scar is being especially distant ever since you told him to leave Poultryman alone, Sheriff and Ocean Queen fumbled the sibling situation especially badly and are still mobbed by the media and Poultryman has a growing fanbase other vigilantes could only hope of having...

...And now there seems to be someone new entering the stage, someone who's mark is...

...brutal.

"What do you mean they found mushrooms in his lungs!?"

"He's still alive but... It was horrible, I didn't even know powers could do something like this. The damage is extensive but precise, whoever did this did so in a way to create the most pain with the smallest amount of damage"

"Is he saying anything about what happened!? Have you got a statement from him?"

"Not ...yet"

"Why not? He could hace vital information"

"I... We tried to interrogate the man after he woke up but he's... Not exactly coherent enough for that... I doubt we'll be able to get anything out of him anytime soon... He's just blankly staring out the window... "

Great, amazing, fucking fantastic even. A new super powerful villain and no clues.

"What about the others?"

"Still unconcious, whatever knocked them out must have been strong. There was nothing inside their mouths and their body lack injection spots and blunt force trauma... we are thinking it was some kind of gas or airborne substance."

"... Like spores?"

"Indeed... I'm sorry one second, apparently the man said something"

"What did he say?"

"It wasn't very... uh...useful but he did say something. Mother Spore? Does that ring any bells?"

"No... Send me everything"

After you print everything out you quickly delete the files from the computer, better to be safe then sorry.

Scar comes to visit by soon after, you didn't have time to read over everything yet so you hide the papers, he asks if there's anything new going on around he should know about.

You say there isn't, it isn't a lie, it isn't something he should know about... You don't know enough, you aren't going to risk his safety and you know what will happen if he hears of this mysterious new villain... He nods and leaves.

Now back to the-... the files, they are gone... Scar...

*Scar's pov*

You hate having to steal from Cub but... You needed to know what's going on, you are the top hero, you can't be out of the loop.

You know he'll forgive you and maybe you are a tiny bit taking advantage of it but... You need to make up for your previous mistakes and if that means taking on a creepy mushroom themed villain then that is what you are going to do.

You look down at the file...it is scary how powerful this new villain seems to be and the file mentions the possibilty that they could be working with someone else... You push down the dread and something else takes It's place.

You are the number one hero and maybe if you can do this you'll feel like you deserve it...

...

Cub didn't tell you any of this, he said there was nothing...it hurts a bit, to know he would lie to you like so.

You know you have your limitations and you know you embarass yourself a lot ...but...does he think you are that incapable?

You haven't managed to catch Poultryman but you aren't a failure...

you aren't a failure...

...Are you?

End of Chapter 2

#trafficblr #traffic smp #hermitblr #hermitcraft #grian #cubfan135 #goodtimeswithscar #mother spore #hotguy #hero villain god au

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minniesmutt · 8 months ago

Text

⭐︎ ━━━ GRANITE

⭐︎ ━━━ SS + WC: 2 + 0.6K

⭐︎ ━━━ CW: drugs, arguing, crying

“Fuck,” Hyunjin groaned from the kitchen

“What’s wrong?” Y/n asked from the couch, not looking away from her computer screen.

She was eternally grateful to Felix for getting her website up and running. Now she didn’t have to worry and could just work.

“Nothing. Just remembered something I was supposed to do earlier.”

“Okay.”

Y/n kept on working. Believing her boyfriend. It’d been a couple weeks since she found the molly he left out and they hadn’t talked much about it since. Nor did she think much when he walked down the hallway and into the bathroom. However, she did get concerned after about fifteen minutes of him being there.

“Hyun!” Y/n yelled

No response.

She set her laptop to the side and walked down the hallway. She knocked on the door, “Hyunjin.”

Nothing.

She gave it another couple of seconds before grabbing the handle, then she heard the flush of the toilet and then the sink. She still opened the door and looked at her boyfriend. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?” Hyunjin said and walked past her

“Because you were in there for almost twenty minutes…” Y/n followed her boyfriend into the living room.

“Lunch didn’t settle well with me. I’m fine.”

Y/n nodded and just sat back down to work. Hyunjin sat with her, turning on the TV and watching an anime they had started while she worked. Work she could barely focus on because her boyfriend was fidgeting.

“What’s wrong?” Y/n asked him as she set her laptop to the side.

“Nothing,” the singer said

“You’re fidgeting like you’re hiding something.”

“Just drop it.”

Y/n stood up and walked to his bathroom, Hyunjin on her tail. “Y/n.”

“Either you tell me what’s wrong or I'll find out what’s wrong.”

The latter seemed to be what happened. Pulling out a hidden baggie of pills and looking at him. Hyunjin avoided her gaze.

“You didn't toss the drugs.”

“Be a waste of money.”

“So you decided to say fuck your sobriety? After how many freakouts you’ve had about using again?”

“Why are you mad about this?”

“I’m more concerned than anything.”

“Well, take the concern elsewhere,” Hyunjin scoffed and walked back to his living room, Y/n following behind him

“Excuse me? What happened to the guy who was so worried about what I would think?”

“Y/n, just leave.”

”No. We’re talking this out.”

“I don’t want to talk this out.”

“What do you want then?”

“I want you to get out of my apartment and not come back!”

Y/n looked at the man in front of her, blankly, “What the fuck is wrong with you.”

“Nothing wrong with me Y/n! It’s you and everyone else that thinks something’s wrong with me!”

“Because you’ve been thinking of it and now have relapsed! We’re fucking worried!”

“I’m a fucking grown man! I don’t need people to worry about me!”

“We worry because we care!”

“Well stop! I’m fucking done with all this! With us!”

“Hyun—“

“Get out!”

Y/n grabbed her things as quickly as she could and walked out of his apartment, slamming the door behind her. The tears started to roll down her cheeks. She practically ran to her car and got inside.

She sat back and took a breath before it hit. All the heartbreak settled as she fumbled for her phone. Needing someone to ground her. “Lix…”

“Are you okay? You sound like you’re crying.”

“Are you home?”

“Yeah… Y/n, what —“

“Hyunjin and I got in a fight.”

“Wait what?” Jisung’s voice came.

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gucciwins · 2 years ago

Text

something new

wembley brings love and celebration

Word count: 5190

A/N: posting something for the first time in months (since april) and I am very excited for you to read. please let me know what you think. I enjoyed writing and promise I'm already working on the next thing 💜 asks

_____

Wembley Stadium.

It’s a place you had heard many stories about and even attended a show in 2019 as a gift for your father to watch his favorite band, Fleetwood Mac. This entire week has been remarkable, but tonight is the final night. You are here supporting your boyfriend, Harry, and because it’s the last night, there will be a celebration after with the attendance of everyone who knows Harry from family, friends, and workers.

When you first met Harry, you didn’t know he was Harry Styles. Many people would ask how you could not recognize the Harry Styles, but when you met him, he had a full beard and hair full of messy curls. He was dressed in mini running shorts wearing a black jumper and bright running shoes. The reason you spoke to him was his shoes. This brand is known for its style of color combination and lightness in weight, making it the running shoe. You had been debating buying a pair, and his looked well-loved. It wouldn’t hurt to hear an opinion from someone who wasn’t an online user.

“Excuse me,” you called out softly behind him.

He jumps and moves away from the counter. “Sorry, was I in your way?”

You do your best not to melt hearing his deep voice; it was comforting for some odd reason. You smile and shake your head. “No, uh, actually. I’m sorry to bother you. This is actually such a silly question now.” You pause, debating walking away while you can, but he encourages you to continue. “It’s about your shoes. Are the Hoka’s worth it? The online reviews have not been able to convince me, and I’ve read too many articles at this point. Yours look like they’ve seen a few miles,” you point out.

Harry looks down at his shoes and laughs, “so they do.” He meets your eye, stepping closer and away from the counter. “I’m on my fourth pair,” he confesses sheepishly.

You wince, knowing the price for these shoes is not cheap. “Are you constantly running? Are they easily worn out?”

His face reddens, and he fiddles with his necklace. “No, uh…I like having more options to match my outfits.”

You laugh, “that makes sense.” You pause. “Does that mean picking my first pair will be harder? I saved for one pair, and my pocket will hurt if I decide to bite the bullet.”

“I debated a few choices at my computer and ultimately bought two pairs. They were orange and yellow. Bondi are a good first choice.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You notice the barista, Lily sliding a coffee on the counter and gesturing it’s his, meaning it’s time for you to go. “Sorry for bothering you, but this was very helpful. Sorry, I never got your name. I’m Y/N.”

“Harry. It was no bother.”

You doubt that.

“Bye, Harry.” You collect your bag and walk out, knowing you were going to overthink buying these shoes, and Harry would never leave your mind.

To no surprise, you’re back at your favorite coffee shop the following day, but this time dressed in your favorite jeans and a cardigan your grandma helped you knit over the summer last year. It’s pastel pink with flowers placed randomly all over. You didn’t dress cute for a guy. You dressed cute for yourself. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself. Lily is a good friend, and after walking your iced latte to your table, she sat down for a moment.

“Nice conversation yesterday?” She ponders.

“Mhm…nice fellow.”

“Was surprised you bothered him?”

You look at her, confused. “Was it rude of me?”

“Some would say so.”

“I’m confused. We talked about shoes. What did I do wrong?”

Lily stares at you, trying to see if you’re joking. “Y/N, be serious.”

“I am.”

She looks around, leaning closer. “You spoke to Harry Styles. Popstar sensation. Most loved man on the earth.” Lily sees you processing her words, and before you can make rebuttals, she pulls her phone out and shows you a photo of Harry, the guy you met, under a Harry Styles update page.

“Well, shit!”

“Yeah, he at least looks interested in your conversation.”

You roll your eyes, “geeze, Lily, thanks for making it seem like it’s awful to talk with me.”

“Not what I meant,” she apologizes.

“It’s fine. The beard threw me off.”

“He’s a regular here. Comes every other day.” Lily excuses herself needing to get back to work, and with that reassurance, he wouldn’t be coming in; you enjoy your coffee.

You took out your laptop and began to work while keeping an eye on the door. Pretty soon, you got deep into your research and didn’t even notice when the door chimed, signaling someone knew had entered.

“You look really focused. Are you working?” Harry had walked up to your table, startling you.

The truth was you were not working, although you should have been; it was a Wednesday morning. You feel your cheeks warm up, knowing you’ve been caught. “Won’t lie to you, Harry. I’m looking at shoes.” You turn your screen to let him see you have a page pulled up for running shoes with multiple open tabs.

Harry laughs in surprise and gestures to the empty seat to join you. You move your bag, and he happily slides in. You move your laptop closer to him, giving him a better view.

“Those are cute.” You had been looking at a lilac pair.

“Right! But look at these.”

Harry frowns when you switch the screen to display a cherry-pink design. “Now, that’s a tough choice.”

“Ugh…I know. I’ve been alternating back and forth.”

“Okay, close your eyes,” he orders.

You look at him skeptically but do as he says.

“It’s a sunny day which is just a miracle here in London,” you laugh, and he continues. “You’re out on a walk deciding where to go for the day when a stranger points out your shoe is untied. You bend down to tie it. Now what color are your shoes?”

“Purple,” you answer without thinking.

“Well, there you go.”

“That was helpful, Harry. Thank you. Are you a therapist or something?”

“In another life, I would be.”

“Well, what do you do now?” You ask, genuinely interested.

Harry looks at you, confused as if you’re really asking the question. “I sing for a living. Uh…” he feels embarrassed sharing this for some reason. “I go on stage and perform.”

You frown, looking at him closer. “From my eye level, you look like a rugged Harry Styles.”

Harry looks amused. “Rugged. Huh, I thought the beard was good.”

“It is,” you quickly agree. “Sorry, I’m used to seeing videos of him—well, you clean-shaven.”

“I’m on a break. It’s a nice way to let go.”

Right.

You were at a crossroads now because you liked Harry. He was friendly and easy to speak with, but would this new information change everything for you?

“Maybe we can go on a run when your shoes arrive?” Harry suggested.

Your eyes lit up, “really?”

“Mhmm…I like running around the park.”

“Oh, I love finding new trails,” you gushed. “I bet you have found the best-hidden roads.”

Harry shrugs, “we’ll have to see.”

“Uh… I’m sorry for not recognizing you. I don’t know if that was weird or not.” You decide to apologize.

“You’re fine, Y/N. When you came up to me, I thought you wanted a photo, but clearly, my shoes were more interesting,” he teased. “It was nice being just Harry.”

You smile sheepishly at him, “you’re still Harry to me. Feel like you’ll turn into Harry Styles when you’re clean-shaven on stage.”

“Not for a few weeks, then. I have shows in Los Angeles at the end of January,” he tells you because he wants to bask in being just Harry for a few weeks more.

“Oh, fun,” you wiggle your eyebrows at him.

“Mhmm…” Harry waits for you to ask more, but instead, you turn the conversation to his workout routine.

From then on, conversation flows easily. You tell Harry you’re the oldest of three. Two younger brothers who live to embarrass you whenever they get the chance but love when you drive them around. You tell him about your job in publishing and that you worked your way up to being an editor. It’s a job you love dearly. Harry lets you ramble on, asking questions and wanting to learn more. He learns you’re allergic to mushrooms. Your first tattoo was a cherry you got at eighteen on an impulsive night out. That you’re the only family member in generations to be born left-handed.

Harry shares that he loves to travel because it gives him a place to miss and come home. He loves his sister and calls her his best friend. That he’s too competitive and loves a long game of Scrabble. He dreams of having a pet dog but does not want to commit when his life is on the road. You mention your family dog, Woodstock, named after the iconic yellow bird from the Peanuts comics. A yellow Labrador who runs up to strangers, always asking for belly rubs. You promise to take him to visit.

Your friendship with Harry grew from there. You would meet most mornings outside the coffee shop for a run and then for a coffee that turned into hours of conversation. You liked Harry and reckoned you liked him more than a friend, but there was no way you would change that dynamic and instead settle to be his friend. When Harry showed up one day clean-shaven, you were taken aback because it made him look younger, and it was as if you were seeing him for the first time.

“Don’t recognize me anymore,” he teases.

“I could spot those green eyes in a sea of people,” you promise him.

Come April, a shift in your dynamic happened. Harry wanted you to work out with him and his trainer. You thought he was crazy, but really Harry was dying for you to meet his friends. They couldn’t stop teasing him that you were made up.

“Harry!”

You both turned and found a man in a white shirt and shorts, similar to Harry, approaching you. Harry welcomed him in a hug before going to stand next to you. “This is Y/N. Y/N, Brad.”

Brad shot you a smile, “pleasure to meet you.”

“You as well.”

“It’s nice to put a face to a name. He can’t shut up about you,” Brad confesses.

“Oi! Stop that.” Harry frowns, but you can tell he doesn’t mind.

You end up having the worst workout of your life. Brad, not taking a moment of pity for you until he finally called it quits an hour later. You threw yourself on the grass, closed your eyes, and took slow breaths. You heard Harry laughing above you but did not acknowledge him.

“Come on, petal. I’ll buy you a coffee,” Harry offered.

You peeked one eye open, “and a scone?”

“I’ll get you all the goods you want,” Brad chimes in. “You were a trooper out there.”

“Fuck, I never want to work out with you again,” you huff.

“Don’t think we will if he has a say,” Brad points to Harry. “Never seen him so angry.”

“She’s my friend. Didn’t want to explain her death to her parents.”

After that, it seemed you only saw more of each other until one night at your home, Harry made a move you didn’t see coming. After the film finished, Harry turned serious.

“Y/N?”

“Harry, what is it?” You ask, concerned.

“I like you.”

You sigh in relief, “gosh, you scared me. I like you too, silly. You’re my best friend.”

Harry shakes his head. “You’re not listening to me.”

“Heard you loud and clear.”

He sighs, frustrated. “These last few months as your friend have been amazing. I feel so lucky you approached me to talk about shoes. While I enjoy being your friend every time we get together, these feelings I have continue to grow, and I can no longer keep them to myself. I like you, and I want to see where this goes.”

You sit there shocked because you never expected Harry to reciprocate your feelings, but he is pouring his heart out for you. “Harry,” you breathed out. “I-I-I like you too. I have for some time, but I didn’t want to lose you.”

“Me either, but Brad said a person as amazing as you would not wait around for me.”

You laugh, “tell him I’m a fool because I think I would have waited a lifetime for you.”

“I know it’s too soon to ask you to be my girlfriend seeing as we haven’t been on a date, but—”

You interrupt him. “Why can’t we say this is our first date? If we think about it, every time we have spent together could be considered a date.”

“Do you end a first date with a kiss?” He asks sheepishly.

“Only if it’s you,” you promise him.

When your wine-stained lips meet his, you feel a wave of peace surround you knowing that it might be soon, but the universe sent Harry to you. He was your other half. He made you better. You pulled him closer, loving the closeness this kiss brought you. Harry sighed, ending the kiss. You went in for a second kiss needing more of him for a little longer.

“Petal, baby. I’m here,” he spoke against your lips.

You giggled out of breath. “Sorry, I think I like you a little too much.”

Harry leaned his forehead against you. “I feel the same.”

“Good, let’s kiss some more and then have a sleepover.”

“Don’t you think it’s too soon, petal?” Harry asked.

You frowned, “you slept here two nights ago.”

Harry sighed, “you’re right.”

It wasn’t until a week later you made it official. Life was perfect, and you were happy. Harry knew starting a relationship as he began touring wasn’t the smartest option, but he was close to home and promised to check in at every chance. In each city he visited, he picked up a souvenir for you as a reminder he was thinking of you. It was cheesy, but he wrote you postcards from each city because even though they wouldn’t arrive quickly, they would remind you of him when you did receive them. It only made you like him more and knew you were falling in love quickly. There was no stopping it.

While you joined him at his special show at Slane Castle, you didn’t have the chance to meet many of his family, mainly only the band. They welcomed you with open arms, and how Harry never stops talking about you. It made you nervous. You hoped to live up to his words because these people and his band members meant the world to Harry.

____

Now being here to celebrate four sold-out nights at Wembley, it felt overwhelming knowing Harry’s entire family and friends from his childhood would be here. You’ve known Harry for months but loved him like he’s always been yours. It was a joyous day, but even that wouldn’t take away your nerves for the final night of seeing Harry shine on stage.

“No one is going to believe I didn’t recognize you when we first met,” you tell him as the driver drove down a road that arrives at the back of Wembley, away from the crowd.

“Course they will.”

You give him a deadpan look, “you’re basically the face of the UK. A prince, some would say.” You sit up and clear your throat. “Oh, how’d we meet. Well, I met him at a coffee shop and asked him about his shoes.” You rolled your eyes, “sounds fake to me.”

“Good thing it’s the truth. Plus, I thought you were cute. Would have never worked up the courage to walk up to you, though.”

“Stop. You’re only saying that.”

“Nope, I mean it. Brad and the band like you.”

“I hope they do,” you muttered. “Only people I’ve met now. I’m meeting everyone.”

“You met Mum and Gem,” Harry reminds you. “Spent time with them for three nights.”

You sigh because, for a moment, you feel Harry doesn’t understand how overwhelming this is. Everyone here knows Harry. They know Harry from Holmes Chapel, and they know the amazing person he is. You feel happy to know and love him, but they’ve got a lifetime of Harry, and you’ve got months. It differs for everyone because you would move mountains to ensure he was happy. Except, everyone doesn’t know that. They don’t know you.

“Y/N, petal will you look at me,” he begs softly.

You take a deep breath and allow yourself to meet his emerald eyes. Harry takes in the worry shining bright, and smiles. “Petal, I love you. I know you love me. You remind me every moment we’re together and when I’m away. I don’t doubt it. My family knows you, maybe not your physical form, but they have heard stories and seen endless pictures. They will love you because I love you. If you get overwhelmed, you can always sit back and watch, they’ll understand. Most importantly, I will understand. I wish I could hold you as Mum introduces you to everyone. I told her to hold off, but she’s excited. Brad will be on the floor, and I know you enjoy that. You’re in safe hands.”

“I love you. Thank you. I know it’s your day, and I’m making it all about me.”

Harry shushes you, “hey, hey. We’re a team. Your feelings are just as important as mine. Now give me a kiss.”

You loved him, simple as that. He was the missing piece in your life.

___

The show was like no other. Harry, from the moment he got on stage, radiated happiness. The fans were the loudest they had been all week, filling you with so much joy. Anne told you to join her at the family box, but you decided to be on the floor as close to Harry as possible by the Jonny pod; you noticed Harry favored the side more, knowing his dear friend was in the audience tonight. From surprise songs to dancing and Mitch receiving his Grammy, you knew it would be a night you would never forget. As Harry began his encore with “Sign of the Times,” the rain started falling, and so did your tears. The fact that over 90 thousand people were here for Harry said enough. They chose to spend their evening with him, and he delivered to make it memorable.

You didn’t even notice that Brad captured a photo of you staring at Harry on stage with a giant smile and hands over your heart you would only see later when Harry made it his lock screen. Harry thanks the crowd for a magical night stating over and over again that he’s never been happier.

Brad wraps an arm around you and walks you towards Harry, who’s sharing long hugs and meaningful words with his bandmates. This is the man you love, and there’s nothing you’d change about it. You followed Harry to the dressing room, wanting a moment alone before the madness. Harry bounces around quickly to change, removing the overalls and shimming them down his waist. He slips on shorts, throws on a random shirt, and puts on his new Adidas Love on Tour sweater with his initials.

You lean against the door admiring him in all his glory. He didn’t bother for a shower, too eager to see everyone.

“I’m proud of you,” you whisper. “I know it might not mean much, but I am.”

Harry pauses, finishes tying his shoe, and walks over to you. He stops before you, his hands finding a home on your cheeks. “It means the world. Don’t ever think it doesn’t. We might only have been together for two months, but my heart has loved you my entire life. You being here is enough. I could feel your love from the stage.”

He connects your lips together, and you melt against him. Harry breathes life into you, and you never want him to stop. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, Harry. So much.”

“Good. Let’s go mingle.” You move away from the door and make your way outside when he tugs you back in. “Forgot one last thing.”

He hurries over to his bag, pulls out an identical sweater, and hands it to you. You accept it moving and look it over. Your eyes quickly find your initials on the right side, similar to his.

“Harry—this isn’t necessary.”

Harry shrugs, “it was your idea.”

You don’t fight him as he slips off your red leather jacket and helps you slip on the thin material. He fixes the collar making sure none of your hair is tucked under. Harry decides you look good, giving you a pat on the butt. “Now we can go.”

Harry held your hand as you walked over to the area Jeff had set up for the celebration. He mentioned there would be another location later in the night, but it would be good to let the crowds outside die out. On your walk over, Harry told you about outfits and signs he saw in the crowd. How overwhelmed he came when the rain came down. He felt at home.

You expressed how much fun you had, told Harry how Jeff and Tommy taught you the boot scoot during “Treat People,” and assured him many videos of your failed attempt were taken. Harry paused outside the door where you could hear the loud chatter, and you knew what was waiting for you behind those doors. Harry shoots you a look, and you give him a reassuring smile letting him know it’s okay to go in.

The cheers are loud when the man of the hour walks in. Everyone was quick to gather around him. You try to sneak away, but his grip on your hand stays tight. Every person who thanks him, he makes sure to introduce you.

“Love, go celebrate. It’s alright. I’ll be fine,” you tell him in a low voice.

Harry shakes his head, instead kissing you and pulling you along to meet and chat with new people. You felt a bit overwhelmed, but everyone has been so sweet. They asked where you were from? Scotland. What was your job? An editor. How did you meet? Coffee Shop. How proud were you? Immensely.

You kept trying to hang back, but Harry seemed to notice when you drifted away. He would kiss you and ask for your input in the conversation. You told him you were getting a drink and would be back momentarily, except you got a vodka cranberry and hid in a corner. Harry found you when your drink was half gone.

“Babyyy,” he called out. “Missed you.”

You felt your cheeks heat up as he wrapped himself around you. He moved you away from the wall, making you face the crowd, his hands around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“I love you,” he whispered.

You lean against him, happy to be wrapped in his arms, feeling safe. “I love you, bub.”

Harry takes a sip of your drink and hums at the bitterness of the cranberry. He knows you’re a social drinker because it allows you to relax and not be as anxious. You and Harry get lost in your world as you let him talk your ear off. He tells you about people around the room, who they are, and how they’ve helped them. Surprisingly, Harry can name everyone in the room, though it shouldn’t shock you much. It’s just the type of person he is.

Your boyfriend is an affectionate person. He loves having a hand on the small of your back or your hand in his. He wants to be close because he says he wants makeup when he’s away. Some would say it makes him look clingy, but lucky for you, you love his touch; it’s comforting. You could feel his smile against your skin as he planted kisses on your face.

Even while in your corner, people come up to you. When they see Harry begin to kiss your shoulder or whisper in your ear, they excuse themselves. You can’t help but feel you are keeping Harry from celebrating with everyone, not realizing he’s happy to celebrate with you in his arms.

“Harry! Sue!” Is yelled from across the room. You see a short, dirty-haired blonde yell and wave for him, but Harry is too busy peppering kisses all over your neck to realize.

“Bubby, love. They’re calling for you.”

He hums against your neck. “I’m perfect here.”

You sigh because the yelling continues, and you’re starting to feel overwhelmed because he’s not celebrating. Instead, Harry is ensuring you’re not nervous, which seems like the most boring job in the world. He should be taking shots with friends and telling stories about the last four nights.

“Go on, I’ll be right behind you,” you promise him.

Harry tightens his hold on you, “baby, you sure?”

“Yes, no go. I’ll even bring you a drink.”

“Te–”

“Tequila neat,” you tease. “I know you.”

Harry pecks your lips once, twice, and a third time before making his way across the room, but not before looking over his shoulder one last time at you. You shoot him a wink and exaggerate, looking at his bum and making him laugh. He moves his hips a little extra just for you. As Harry easily falls into the conversation, you use this moment as an opportunity for a breather.

You were alone for around five minutes when you heard footsteps coming your way. You were in a corridor that led you out to the stage if you continued walking down but stopped halfway, knowing no one would come this way. You were wrong.

Harry is who you expected to see, but to your surprise, it’s Gemma, his older sister.

“Hi,” you greet softly. The conversations with Gemma have been short, but from what you can tell, she’s wise beyond her years and always ready to listen.

“You okay?” She asks, straight to the point.

“A bit loud,” you gesture towards the hallway where the music can still be heard.

She nods, “I get that.” Gemma looks around before moving to stand next to you shoulder to shoulder. “Are you okay?” She asks again.

You sigh, “I—i-i.”

“A bit much for a family gathering.”

“A bit,” you exhale, knowing Gemma understands what you might be feeling.

“It’s the perfect opportunity, I feel. I did forget how overwhelming it was. I don’t even remember my boyfriend’s first family gathering.”

“Are you saying I won’t remember this in a few years?”

“Oh, you’re never forgetting tonight.” She smirks, “unless you keep drinking.”

You scrunch your nose at the thought. “Better not.”

The two of you stand in silence, and you know it’s because Gemma is giving you a minute to gather your thoughts.

“I just—I love Harry. I do. I hope you don’t doubt that, but I don’t know how to celebrate when you’ve all been here for him every step of the way. Year after year.”

Gemma deflates, “oh, Y/N.”

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have—” Gemma cuts you off.

“It’s okay,” she assures you. “It’s difficult because of his job, not because of who he is. But trust me when I say he loves you.” Gemma’s words are firm, and you believe her. As an older sister, you would do anything to protect your siblings but never lie to someone important.

“Harry talks about you every chance he gets. Did you know Y/N ran a marathon? She’s swam with sharks in a reservation center. Y/N’s CPR certified. She edited and helped publish five number-one books this year,” Gemma rambles off. “We all know so much because he’s proud and wants to share it with those close to him.”

“I-I didn’t know.” You let all of this process, but it’s a shock because some of the things Gemma listed mean nothing, but clearly, to him, mean everything.

“Everyone in that room,” Gemma points over her shoulder, “knows who you are and what you mean to him.”

“Everyone?” You whisper. It doesn’t feel real. You’d never been so loved, and it might be why you’re feeling overwhelmed because he wants to bask in your love. It’s not a show; it’s simply his way of showing he loves you in front of everyone he cares about.

“Celebrate how you want but know all we want is to see him happy. It’s clear as day that you make him happy. This is the happiest I’ve seen him, and it’s because of you. Maybe even happier than selling out Wembley.”

“Thank you, Gemma.” She hugs you tight, and it’s so familiar yet different from Harry’s. His is light and full of love, while Gemma’s is tight and warm. “He wrote you a beautiful song.” You’re referring to “Sweet Creature,” which he dedicated to her tonight.

“It’s a special one. Don’t worry. I hear you’ll be getting yours soon enough,” she teases. “I’ll see you inside.”

A few seconds later, someone else joins you. It’s as if your body knows who it is without seeing them because you feel the familiar flutter in your stomach as his smell wraps around you.

“Baby, where did you go?” Harry whines. Baby is a term of endearment that comes out a lot when he’s had more than one to drink. It’s your favorite during these times.

“I’m here,” you open your arms, and he happily falls in your embrace. “I’m proud of you, love.” You run a hand through the back of his head, keeping him close.

“Thank you, baby.”

“Like really proud. You’re so loved. What you do is incredible. I feel so lucky to be able to love you.”

Harry pulls back, and you see his beautiful eyes glistening with tears threatening to fall soon. “I love you.”

You press your lips against his and put all your love into the kiss. You wish you could spend the rest of the night kissing him, but there is more celebrating to do. Harry doesn’t let you pull away, instead deepening the kiss. You melt against him, forgetting your worries and enjoying this moment with him. A moment only for the two of you to remember.

“Let’s keep celebrating, my love,” you whisper against his lips.

“Still nervous?” He checks.

“Only a smidge.”

Harry smiles, “that’s okay. I’ll hold your hand.”

“You won’t let go?”

“Never,” he promises.

As you return to the party holding tight to his hand, he asks an important question. “Can I keep kissing you?”

Your laugh rings loud, echoing through Harry’s heart. You bring your hand up to rest at the back of his neck and pull him down for a kiss. “As much as you like.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #harry blurb #harry styles concept #harry styles fluff #harry styles love on tour #love on tour Wembley #love on tour blurbs #harry styles girlfriend #fluff

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maudie-duan · 5 months ago

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Series Summary: Harry has been fighting to keep his relationship with Olivia afloat for nearly two years. At what point does he choose to either endure or let the strain of the world defeat his ambitious hopes of a lasting relationship? Or will a single night and a fleeting encounter be enough to change the projection of Harry’s path? Maybe our ‘Mystery Girl,’ Shiloh, will happen to be in the right place at the right time.

Word Count: 3.3K

Warning: SLOW-BURNER, Strong Language, Major Angst, Eventual Smut, Emotional.

If you were to ask me when I fell in love. I could have said, “the moment I looked into her eyes,” but that would be a lie—it wasn’t that I didn’t feel everything all at once; trust me, I did, but I was too swept up in the moment to pin down any one particular feeling.

Tell me, has there ever been a time when something so unexpected happened that it stilled the tick of the clock? When everything in the room disappears, and the only thing that exists is you and this one person—your mouth going dry, heart pounding, the kind of moment that you have to remind yourself to breathe.

When you look into their eyes, and all you can see is every possibility that could ever coexist between the two of you— it’s like your whole body goes numb, your breath slows, and maybe someone is saying something to you, but you can’t comprehend anything other than what’s laid out before you—and there’s that split second when you know you should respond, but suddenly, you can’t even remember how to form words, let alone a coherent sentence to save your life.

“It’s missing something,” Alessandro says, looking up from the screen. This photoshoot isn’t going well, and I think he’s being kind by not directly stating the problem—and that’s me.

I stand from the cushioned chair and watch Alex and the photographer bounce ideas back and forth, but I’m only getting bits and pieces since they’re so far away, and I’m still working on my Italian. Alex’s phone rings, and he turns away, calling out to the person on the line in English. This takes me by surprise because when we’re in Italy, he rarely switches between the two.

“No, no, please come, Darling. I would love to say goodbye—” he says, turning back to the screen, “No, it’s not interrupting. We’ll take a break. They’ll show you to the studio.”

He laughs, glancing up at me, and puts a hand over the speaker. “Tempo di pausa,” he says to me as he continues the conversation. That’s when I take the break as an excuse to lock myself in the bathroom to throw myself a little pity-party—all day, I couldn’t shake the feelings from last night between Olivia and “Mystery Girl.” I just couldn’t catch a break mentally.

And I know it’s wild to be hung up on a girl I’ve never even met, but have you ever come across someone you feel like you’re destined to meet? So rarely does it happen in life that you recognize the feeling—the pull—before you’re already confusing it with desire, maybe lust, mistaking wants with need, deeming it unattainable before it even has a chance to cultivate into something lasting.

She was unattainable, and I knew the moment I left the party, I would have to let her go—at least not use this as an excuse to run from my life and everything pushed to the forefront, specifically Olivia—because she was the biggest challenge I was facing and after last night. We’ve been at a standstill, neither of us wanting to call it quits first.

“Ahh, yes, yes…here he is—” Alex bellows out as I round the corner, and I nearly trip on my own two feet when I see ‘Mystery Girl’ standing next to him, a smile on both their faces.

“Oh, hey there,” I say, trying to play it cool because no fucking way is this happening, that I could be this lucky. Their gaze flicks to the computer screen, and all I want to do is run and hide. I haven’t even gotten a chance to look at the screen, and I’m sure the work isn’t great. I’m already dreading the fact that we have to continue with the shoot, but this is work, and I need to suck it up.

Suddenly, I’m aware of everything, like how quiet the room has become except for the faint murmur of Alessandro’s voice that I can hardly hear over the ringing in my ears, or how it could be so cold that I’m stifling a shiver. Yet somehow, my whole body is aflame, and when I glimpse down, I’m reminded that I’m not wearing anything but a pair of silk Gucci underpants—because, of course, this is my luck that the first time I meet her. I’m shooting an underwear campaign.

Glancing back, I see Alex waving over one of the assistants on the set as he and the photographer huddle close to ‘Mystery Girl.’ How do I not know her name? Alex has that look in his eye, the one he gets when he’s onto something creative. “Harry?” He calls, barely turning to wave me over. His gears are turning, filling the room with excitement as people begin to rush around.

‘Mystery Girl’ peeks over her shoulder as I walk over, but her expression is neutral. Alex wraps an arm around my waist, a friendly gesture he does often, and when I see the smile on his face, I know I’m in for it—that whatever he has decided to do is final.

“No, I think this could work,” he says, once in English, then again in Italian, directing his words toward the photographer, except he adds “They’re both beautiful” to the end of the last sentence, and I lock eyes with the beauty herself standing across from me.

She gives me a shy smile, and I have to look away, my eyes darting to the floor, “Harry-” Alex says, “We work together—”

“The two of you can make this beautiful, No?” He pushes as a nervous laugh bubbles up, and I swipe the corner of my eye, catching a brief glimpse of everyone’s face before my eyes are back on the ground, and I’m kicking myself for not holding my composure better. I can feel the heat rising to my cheeks, and I know I’m giving myself away.

“Yeah��yeah…that’s fine..are you fine with this?” I ask the girl, and when I look up, I can’t help but smile, a giddy sense of joy rising at the thought that we’re not only meeting, but now I get to work with her—I mean, what are the odds, really?

“I’m Harry, by the way,” I say, reaching out to greet her.

There’s a slight grin, the corners of her mouth barely tilting. “Shiloh…it’s nice to finally meet you,” she says, and my heart soars with this new bit of information. I repeat her name several times in my head, mulling the syllables around like I’ve never heard the name before, and then it dawns on me that I have definitely heard her name—my sister is one of her followers, and I’m so caught up in this knowledge that I forget to let her hand go.

They’re all staring at me, Alessandro trying to hide his amusement, and I reluctantly let go and watch as she clasps her hands in front of her. When I brave a look at her face, she doesn’t look disturbed—in fact, I can’t tell what he’s thinking. She’s not looking at me, and as she runs a hand through her long, wavy hair, she smooths her lips together, holding the same neutral gaze as before.

That’s when the assistant rolls in a rack of pieces for Alessandro to sort through—a mix of lace and silk, the pieces both men and women, barely any material, and it’s like it’s clicking for the first time that we’re both going to be in our underwear.

Together.

My eyes flash to Shiloh; if she’s feeling anything, I couldn’t tell you. She’s like a stone fortress—impassive—and I’m trying to rack my brain for anything I remember about her. I do know she is an up-and-coming influencer who made it big on YouTube. I only know this because my sister has sent me several videos telling me that this is one of the people I need to promote my nail polish.

Gosh—I knew her face looked familiar. Gemma sent me her last video. She has a segment every Monday, and she invites friends, but more recently, various celebrities, into her home and gives them manicures while she interviews them. She usually does a live on Instagram, giving her followers a peek at this week’s guest, where they are also allowed to ask questions.

I only remember this because I thought it was very clever—smart even—how she worked the personal aspect of it—an intimate setting that allowed anyone filming to relax and feel like they were catching up with an old friend. I had thought about reaching out to her people, but got sidetracked with life and never got around to it.

How bizarre that we’re coming full circle.

“I think we start with... hmmm…maybe matching,” Alessandro says, holding up a set in front of Shiloh. She looks down at the pieces, and maybe there’s a faint look of nervousness, but it passes as her full lips press together.

“Okay, we try this…”— and Alex hands the set over to Shiloh, placing a hand on her shoulder to pivot her in the direction to change. I walk back over, trying to stay out of the way as people maneuver the set around, taking direction from Alessandro, who looks overly excited.

Shiloh…Shiloh…—I think, forging her name to memory as if the second she leaves, I’ll forget, but I know that’s not true because now I could never forget. How could I? When it seems like the universe is at hand here, and what humor the universe has? Because I could never have Shiloh right now, even if I tried.

Olivia…

I have to force myself to think of her, and only her—and then Shiloh is standing before me in a silky, blush-colored number, and I lose it because she has to be the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, and it’s not just the curves of her body. There’s a humble grace about her—that she could walk out into a room full of people looking as good as she does and not bid for their attention, and she is breathtaking enough. Surely, Shiloh feels her power? She didn’t even have to try to command an audience.

She had it; she had me.

Alessandro calls out to us, but I can’t take my eyes off Shiloh as they retouch her makeup. Someone yells, “Lipstick or no?” and Alex shakes his head no, waving his hand back and forth, “Soft lips are sexy. We want sexy. We want intimate, yeah?” He looks at the photographer, and they share a few lines.

“Palo says—Think like you’ve been together for a long time.” He smiles, walking over. “ Think soft, think intimate…you know, sexy.”

Alex grabs each of our hands, joining them together, and Shiloh lets out a timid laugh. I can’t help but laugh to myself. Her hand is stiff in mine, and I have to apologize for my sweaty hand. She shakes her head, brushing it off, and I feel her grip tighten when Alessandro steps back.

He examines us. “Maybe you guys hug? I need you loose. Your bodies are tight, “ he tells us. Shiloh glances over at me but hesitates at first. I make the first move, pulling her closer. She staggers a few steps, a nervous look etching into her features as she draws her lips together. I’m starting to think this is her thing, and when they smooth against one another, she swallows, taking another step forward.

When her eyes meet mine, they’re so familiar. She’s so close, close enough to see every detail, and I can’t help but let my eyes roam—roam over the features I want to commit to memory because what if I never have this opportunity again?

What if this is my only chance to study the tiny freckles sprinkled across the bridge of her nose or the way her cheeks flushed when I pulled her closer? And still, I can’t wrap my brain around this being the first time I’ve looked into those eyes.

How can this be true? When I swear, I’ve seen this face thousands of times—the way the light catches the gold flecks in her green eyes, the defined curve of her cupid’s bow, the set pout of her perfectly full lips—lips I would give anything to feel against mine.

Shiloh squeezes my hand, snatching my attention, “Hi,” she says, a smile ghosting her pretty mouth. She’s studying my face, trying to figure out our next move.

“Hi,” I whisper back, feeling the smile stretch across my face—that thoughtless feeling is back when Shiloh drops my hand and raises her arms, coming up to the tips of her toes to envelop me into a tender hug, burying her face in the crook of my neck.

I don’t pause; I press her warm body to mine, my arms wrapping tight around her tiny waist as I breathe her in, and she presses into me, her grip around my neck firm, and I feel her body relax as she releases a hot breath against the flesh of my neck— and all I want to do is hold her tighter, flush against my body until we’re one—until this is the most normal thing we’ve ever done and there would be no room for second-guessing.

Her hand travels up my neck, treading her fingers in the hair at the nape of my neck, and this time, I’m burying my face into her, pulling her as close as I can. “Yes, that’s perfect…” The photographer yells in Italian. I hear the click of the camera lens, and we both pull away from each other, stunned by whatever just happened—because something just happened. I can feel it humming throughout my entire body—and she won’t look away. The crease between her brows says she’s just as confused as I run a hand over the goosebumps prickling my arms.

Alessandro moves to the screens, “We start in the chair—” Shiloh surveys the chair, then me, “Harry, you sit—okay?” Alex says, directing the first shot.

I proceed to the chair, forcing my stiff body to comply because I think I know what they want—I’m just not sure Shiloh does. “Okay, Shi—you’ll sit on Harry’s lap, okay? Think sexy, think maybe—like he’s your lover, okay?” he coaches.

Shiloh silently nods her head and peeks back at me. “And remember to relax, guys. This is fun.” He cheers.

And yes, this is all fun—until Shiloh is standing before me, and reality sets in, and my first reaction is to scoot my hips forward on the chair, needy for her already—This is what they want…I think, trying to convince myself as I reach out a hand. She places her hand in mine, licking her lips, and climbs onto my lap. I swallow down hard as she gazes down at me, not knowing if I should touch her or stay completely still.

I bit my lip, trying not to buck my hips up to meet her, but all I want is for her to be closer. She places a hand on either side of my head, now pressed against the chair’s plush cushion. It dips as she cages me in, my whole body going numb, my hands limp by my sides. She’s hovering over me, not lowering herself any further, and then she smirks down at me.

“Hi,” she whispers playfully.

I’m grinning like a schoolboy, losing track of everyone else in the room. She pulls back, running a hand through my hair, tossing it to the side. A few strands fall into my face, and she smiles then, a bashful smile that has her second-guessing herself. When she tries to move her hand back, I grab it, lacing my fingers through hers.

This catches her off-guard, and she searches my face, her eyes moving to our hands now intertwined. My eyes sweep to the ring on her finger, noticing the unique layers of yellow and grey swirling together with thick black lines. It almost looks like a bumblebee is perched, and I run my index finger up the smooth stone, taken by its oblong shape. When I stroke the tip of my finger back down the ring, she squeezes my hand to nab my attention.

When I focus back on Shiloh, her expression is unreadable. I wish more than anything I could hear what she was thinking, “Can you sit lower, Shiloh?” Alessandro requests, “Like into his lap…don’t be afraid. Harry won’t bite,” he jokes. She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. She’s gripping my hand tighter, maybe trying to hold back nerves, and I give her hand a few squeezes to let her know I’m here.

“Hey,” I say with the most gentle tone I can muster, “It’s just you and me, okay…” I lean up, pushing my words into her ear.

“It’s just me and you; just pretend like we’ve done this a million times. I’m just a person, you’re just a person, and we’re acting out our roles. I feel safe, if you feel safe, and if you want to stop at any time, we can, okay?” I tell her, drifting away to see her face.

She blows out a shaky breath, her face flushed, “Okay…” she breathes out, her eyes surveying mine, and my heart sinks because I really want this to work for her, me, and everyone in this room.

When she slowly lowers herself, the instant heat of her core fills my lap, and I exhale, straining to hold as motionless as I can, “ I think we should kiss,” she offers, and my whole body is ablaze, buzzing because I couldn’t agree more, but I don’t want to weird her out.

“Is that what you want?” I ask, my mouth going dry.

Then the corner of her mouth turns up, “I think it will break the ice,” she tells me, and I laugh because it’s so hot in here, and when she brushes a thumb over my warm cheek, she swallows, drawing a slow breath in through her nose. She leans forward, cradling my face, her eyes never leaving mine—and I cannot believe this is happening. I couldn’t think of a single thing I wanted more than to feel those soft, plush lips move against mine.

This was the unexpected—the stilled tick of the clock—and as her lips pressed into mine, she exhaled a weighted breath, filling my lungs with her scent. I’m desperate, but I move at her pace, my hands gradually inching down her waist to her hips, dragging her forward on my lap, lining her up with mine—I need her close—and when she deepens the kiss, I wrap my arms around her, trying to bring her closer; so close that she’s pressed against my growing bulge.

She must like this because now she’s wrapping her arms around my neck, pressing into my bulge so delicately that maybe no one notices; the pressure is thrilling, getting me harder, fast, and I strain with all my might to attempt to suppress the faint moan building in the back of my throat, but it reaches my parted lips, filling her mouth with the vibration and she slows the kiss down—Our lips moving together slowly, and when she releases another prolonged breath, it’s like she aches with it, with this—and I’m savoring every second of it, every shared breath.

“Okay!—Yes, this is what we need, now that is sexy! We love that! And we both break away from the kiss abruptly. I can’t look anywhere else but at Shiloh, and when she laughs, it slows my racing heart because this is the only sound I want to hear.

A/N: Hey guys! I hope you got swept up in this one. Let me know in the comments if you would like to get tagged in future updates for this series!

LET'S TALK ABOUT IT: Wow! was anyone expecting that? The universe is tricky! What will happen next?? Tell me your thoughts!!

->chat with me<-

Tag List: @sassamanda77 @babegoalsreads @howling-wolf97 @palmettogal508 @indierockgirrl @lizsogolden @sexymfharriet

PART FOUR

All Chapters Here<-

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writingfanfiction · 11 months ago

Text

“Ten things I hate about you” - Chapter One

Pair: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Modern High School AU. Skinny sophomore Steve Rogers is new in school. After meeting fellow sophomore Natasha, he quickly develops a crush on her. However, Steve finds out he can’t ask her out because her dad won’t allow Natasha to date if her older sister, the senior Y/N, doesn’t date first. The only problem is: Y/N has no interest in dating whatsoever. With the help of his new friend Sam Wilson, Steve comes up with a plan to find Y/N a suitable match. The best candidate? The most dreaded senior in school, Bucky Barnes.

A/N: Loosely based on the movie of the same name.

“Ten things I hate about you” masterlist | Main masterlist

*****

You weren’t usually a violent person. Far from it actually. You truly believed violence was the very last resort to deal with any issue. However, John Walker not only wasn’t someone you could reason with, but he also brought the worst in you. Which was why you had barely sat foot in school property when your knee went straight between his legs. You were sure most people wouldn’t blame you even if they didn’t know why you had attacked him. It was John Walker after all. The only problem was that Mr. Coulson wasn’t like most people, so all he saw was you kicking the school’s star running back, and he didn’t bother to learn why you had resorted to violence. “Nothing is an excuse to be violent towards a fellow student, Miss Y/L/N,” he said. And that was the reason why you were on your way to the principal’s office even before your senior year had officially started.

Right outside of Principal Hill’s office, May Parker, the principal’s secretary, sat at her desk typing away in her computer. Upon seeing you, she smiled brightly at you. “Good morning, Y/N! I see we are starting the year at full throttle,” she chuckled. May liked you, and she had said so on multiple occasions. She liked your no nonsense attitude, and believed most of the time you had good reasons to behave like you did. To her that meant that most of the time you shouldn’t have been sent to the principal’s office.

“Always a pleasure, May!” You smiled in greeting.

She adjusted her big frames at the top of her nose and asked you, “How was your summer, Y/N?”

“Oh, you know. Your ordinary teenage summer.” You shrugged.

May smiled knowingly. “I hardly think you had an ordinary teenage summer!”

You chuckled. She knew you too well! “Well, it was my ordinary summer and I’m a teenager, unfortunately, so...” You shrugged. “How was yours?”

“Good! Peter and I went to the beach for a couple of weeks.”

“I’m glad you had a good time.” You smiled at her. You were genuinely happy for May. It was good to see her managing to get back on track after the untimely death of her husband.

“Thank you, dear.” May smiled again, understanding what you left unsaid. Before she could dwell too long on sad thoughts, she continued, “Please, do be seated. Principal Hill will be with you in a moment.” She pointed to the waiting chairs, where you were surprised to find a seated Bucky Barnes.

Bucky had disappeared from school during junior year, never having returned after winter break. Multiple rumours abounded as to the why of that. They went from clearly believable possibilities to the most absurd hypotheses. You were quite sure he had neither become a hair model in Japan nor become part of some motorcycle street racing gang. You weren’t friends with Bucky Barnes, but you knew the guy pretty well not to believe the absurdities you heard through the teenage grapevine.

Bucky had been your classmate ever since kindergarten, and ever since you could remember the two of you had been competing for the title of best student in your class. You were both highly competitive, and had been trying to best each other at everything. Although he was extremely annoying to you due to your competitiveness, just as you were to him, Bucky had been a sweet, sort of golden boy until ninth grade. He had been genuinely nice to everyone, a model student and a model teenage boy. He was like a ray of sunshine, short shiny hair perfectly combed, colourfully but tastefully dressed and all smiles. He had been a star football player who had made it to the varsity team in ninth grade. Even though he had made it as a benchwarmer, no other freshman had made it to varsity. Then, something happened during summer, before sophomore year, and Bucky became this unapproachable loner who let his hair grow, wore a great deal of black and leather, and who was trying to kill himself by smoking too many cigarettes and driving a vintage Harley. After whatever had happened, to most people he was clouded in an aura of mystery that made most people afraid of him, while at the same time most girls fawned over him. The only thing that hadn’t changed, however, was his competitiveness to be the top student in your class. You never understood why. Sure, there were rumours that he was just naturally gifted and didn’t even have to study to get good grades, but you knew that wasn’t true. You were there to witness his presentations, that guy put effort in his school work.

You and Bucky had a strange relationship. While you wanted to best each other, you still didn’t really hate each other. Moreover, you were probably the only person who wasn’t afraid of him, why would you be, and you friendly bantered. There were also times when your competitive nature made you two end up together in Principal Hill’s office.

It seemed he was back from wherever, though, as for some reason he was also waiting for Principal Hill on the first day of senior year. What could he possibly have done so soon? You paid a moment’s attention to him. His already long hair seemed longer, his face had a couple of days stubble, and he looked bigger than before. But what struck you the most was the fact that he looked more man than a teenage boy now. Sure, he was eighteen, lawfully an adult, but most seniors didn’t look manly.

“Y/L/N.” Bucky said by way of greeting and nodded his head at you.

“Barnes.” You sat down next to him, dropping your backpack on the floor.

“Did you miss me?” He smiled mischievously at you and wiggled his eyebrows.

“Every single day!” You answered sarcastically in a high pitched voice and put a hand over your heart.

He laughed at that and you couldn’t help but smile. His genuine laugh had always been lovely. Not that you would ever say that out loud. Bucky continued, “What are you doing here before the first class of the school year had even taken place?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

“Yeah, but I asked you first.” He smirked.

You had no problem sharing what had happened, and you and Bucky had been in those same chairs many a time, so you just let the smirk slide and answered, “Walker.”

“Say no more!” Bucky put his hands up.

You chuckled and asked him, “How about you?”

“Walker.” He winked at you.

“Now, don’t make me wish to best you at that as well, Barnes!” You joked.

He smiled again. “I don’t know… I punched him in the face. How can you best that?” He challenged you.

You were the one smiling mischievously this time. “I kicked Walker’s genitals.” Bucky made a face and squeezed his legs together. You heard May chuckle in her desk and you sent her a smile. She also didn’t like Walker.

“You know, I concede this round. You bested me this time, Y/L/N.”

“How gracious of you!” You smiled sarcastically.

“You know, I thought you were adept of non-violence.” Bucky smirked at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He knew all about your opinions. Well, most of the school did, since you were quite vocal about them.

“Well, sometimes violence is the only way, Barnes. Like when a jerk crudely comments on your best friend’s rear.”

“The Carol Danvers wasn’t the one who kicked him in the nuts?” Bucky’s eyes were wide open.

“I was closer to him.” You shrugged.

“Of course.”

After a moment, you asked him, “How about you? Why did you punch Walker? Did he crudely comment on your ass as well?” You smirked.

“Ha. Ha.” Bucky said in a monotone. “Funny, but no. He was harassing some poor freshman in that alley at the other side of the street.”

You put both of your hands over your heart and sarcastically asked him, “The Bucky Barnes protecting the weak and oppressed?!”

Bucky shrugged. “Consider it my good deed of the year.”

“Of course.” Bucky smiled at you and, once again, you couldn’t help but smile back. At that moment, you realised you had kind of missed bantering with him.

You heard Principal Hill’s door open and you looked at it. “… And remember, anything you need, we are here for you.” She took a step out of her room and, upon seeing you and Bucky, she sighed, forgetting all about the scrawny blond boy behind her, effectively preventing him from leaving the office and making him witness your interaction. “I cannot believe this.” Principal Hill threw her arms up. “What are you two up to already? You hadn’t even had your first class of the school year, you can’t possibly have exploded the chemistry lab again!” The blond boy behind her was suddenly scared.

“We didn’t explode the chemistry lab!” You defended yourself.

“Yeah, we exploded a couple of beakers and test tubes…” Bucky shrugged.

“Maybe an Erlenmeyer flask…” You added.

Principal Hill sighed. “What are the two of you doing here?”

“We are here separately. We caused different, totally unconnected ‘problems’” You air quoted the word problems. John Walker was the real problem.

Bucky nodded and added, “Although, we are here coincidentally because of the same object in our acts of violence.” You nodded.

Principal Hill pinched the bridge of her nose. “What. Did. You. Do?”

“John Walker-” You and Bucky started in unison.

Principal Hill lifted her hand to interrupt you. “I see. You are free to go. No matter what you’ve done to Walker, I’m sure he’s also at fault.” The blond boy behind her was shocked the principal was letting trouble makers off the hook. You and Bucky smiled, grabbed your backpacks and got up.

Bucky walked to Principal Hill, and in a low tone said, “You know, Hill, I’ve turned eighteen while I was away. You know what that means, right?” He wiggled his eyebrows. You rolled your eyes. The guy really enjoyed playing with fire.

Principal Hill tilted her head and smiled at him before firmly saying, “James Buchanan Barnes, get your ass off my office before I sent you to detention on your first day back!” Bucky only chuckled.

“Goodbye May!” You waved at her on your way out.

“Always a pleasure, May!” Bucky saluted the secretary before following you.

In the hallway, your friend Carol awaited you. You opened your mouth to talk to her when you heard Bucky behind you. “I’ll see you around, Y/L/N. You won’t have it easy like you had last semester.”

“I’m not worried, Barnes. You’ll just be lagging behind me, exactly like you’ve been since High School started!” You tilted your head to the side and gave him a fake sweet smile. He repeated the gesture and walked away.

“I didn’t know he would be back.” Carol said as you two started walking. You shrugged. She continued, “You know, you two have great OTP potential.”

You looked at your friend as if she had grown another head. “Did you smoke something while I was in there? That’s Barnes you’re talking about.”

“I know.” She smirked at you. “But now that I think about it, you guys had always had this super weird, but strong, chemistry…” You rolled your eyes and pinched your friend. “Ow! What are you doing, Y/N?!”

“I’m just checking if you’re not an alien shapeshifter who’s pretending to be my best friend.” Carol didn’t look amused.

*****

Next chapter coming soon

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic

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